Chapter 7: Dances with Saltat

A/N: Sure, Alexa and Doug can chat some more, but there are better things to do when stuck on a mission. (Get your mind out of the gutter and into the stars, please.) And then something weird happens.

Swears, spoilers, sorrow, and then something else again. I'm telling you, I want this as an indigen tyrant DLC so bad, I don't even know where to begin. All the good stuff belongs to the geniuses of MONOLITHSOFT. (Oh, and I'm not sure I got Doug's geographic history right, please send in corrections.)

Alexa watched Doug for a long time after he stopped talking. As far as she was concerned, Lao was trash and didn't deserve any of Doug's sorrow. But it wasn't her heart that was broken. So she'd ignore her fury at Lao (because when stealing the precious and darling ProgAres, the inspiration for little Speedy, when that is the least of your crimes, well, that can only be the mark of a true villain, because honestly what can be lower than skellnapping? Trash. Garbage. Skunkratbastard.) She'd be a big girl and ignore it and maybe try to cheer up Doug. Because she honestly didn't want to see him any unhappier.

"Tell me something good about him. Something from before any of this hoohah happened."

"I can't, Alexa. I just can't."

"Sure you can. Finish this sentence: Back on Earth, Lao really helped me out that time he…"

"He didn't really help, much. Mostly got me into trouble."

Ah, but that was promising. A ghost of a smile flickered on Doug's face. She could work with that. "Okay, so how about this one." She cleared her throat and made a really bad imitation of Doug's voice. "There was this one time that Lao really busted me when…"

"What was that supposed to be?"

"You starting the sentence."

Doug groaned, but it wasn't a sad groan, not exactly.

Alexa grinned. "I can keep this up all night. Not that there's much left, and don't get me started on how much I hate this waiting. Ahem." She dropped her voice again. "Dear Diary. It was the most embarrassing thing. There was this one time…"

"Enough. I give." Doug took a deep breath. "I was short on cash, just a little, but I really needed a side job to tide me over. The administration wasn't looking kindly on pay-day loans just then. Anyway, Lao said he'd hook me up with something, working at a local party. I thought it was a waiter job."

Alexa started to grin. She had a guess.

"It wasn't a waiter job."

Alexa grinned even more broadly. No, she was not going to say her guess.

"It was a bachelorette party." He was having trouble meeting her eyes.

Alexa could barely control her glee. "Say it! Say it!" she thought silently

Doug squirmed. "It was an exotic dancer gig.'

Alexa laughed so hard she thought she'd pass out. "Doug! You didn't."

"I kind of did."

"Kind of did or totally did?"

"Just did, okay? I was there and everything. Didn't want to break a promise."

"Did, didn't, whooo, you are the end. And the administration was okay with this instead of a loan?"

"Not after they found out the second time."

"Oh Doug, does this mean you did and didn't more than once?"

"Just twice. Second time, there was a niece of the commander at the event. Very pushy and not happy when I was strictly professional. I'm pretty sure she ratted me out."

Alexa could almost hug herself with delight. Square as 90 degrees Doug with a crazy past. Loving it. He was laughing a little too.

When they'd calmed down, she looked at him. His face wasn't quite so haggard. "And that's why you…" she started to say softly.

"Yeah, dammit, that's why I still miss him. Because only Lao could get me into that kind of trouble. And get me out again. He'd found another job for me, a real one, even before the shit hit the fan. He came in and proved, PROVED, that it had all been a horrible mistake, very natural but regrettable, and that I had only been responding in the most gentlemanly way possible, not to be repeated.

"There was a local dance club. Fancy stuff. Salsa, Latin, even the waltz. They were always hiring extra dancers for patrons without partners. He'd gotten me a job there. Made it look like the party gig had been an accidental mis-booking. I kept it up, the real job, until we got transferred. Worse ways to earn a few bucks on a Friday night."

"Oh my god, Doug, you were a private dancer."

"I believe taxi dancer is the proper phrase, if you want to get insulting."

"Already been there. So you shuffled old ladies around the dance floor. Once again, you are a wild man."

"No way. This place was fine. People dressed to the nines, hot girls in hotter outfits, people getting their classy-ass groove on. Just not everyone had a partner all the time, and they knew the place had staff that could show them a move or two on the dance floor. I was pretty good, and I got better. You should have seen me tango."

"Where, exactly, did you get good?"

"High school. Mrs. Pearston ran the PE department, all one teacher of it, with an iron hand and an unholy thirst for social dancing, and I'm not talking the polka. We learned or ran laps. In North Dakota. In January. Outdoors."

"Dance or die, then."

"Pretty much."

Alexa looked at him, speculation once more filling and refilling her expression. "Tango, huh?"

"Yup. My specialty. Muy caliente."

She winced at his accent, but once again, she just needed bait to get what she wanted. She put on her best skeptical expression. "I just can't see it."

"Honest. I know my milonga from my waltz."

Time to present her credentials. Up the threat to his reputation. "Doug, Doug, pull the other one. You're no dancer. I can tell. I didn't become president of the Engineering Department Ballroom Dance Team because I was gullible. You're going to have prove it."

"Not likely to happen."

"Oh Dougie, it is happening now. I am calling you out, you lunk. Better dancer gets breakfast off the other one," she added slyly. "Now, lemme just get the right music." She pulled her comm device out and started swiping. It didn't take long. "Tango, accordion, nope, nope, got it." The first strains of the dance floated into the corridor, a dizzying series of scales up and down the keyboard of a battered instrument that had seen a thing or two.

Doug looked up in confusion. "Where's that coming from?"

"The skell outside. Didn't I tell you about the sound system? Lord, I love Speedy like no one's business."

Alexa got up and dusted herself off. She paused the music, then stood straight, proudly, her chin up, hands almost behind her back, waiting impatiently. She wasn't sure that he'd follow until he did. She was relieved when Doug got slowly to his feet. It never felt good to look like an idiot alone. She pushed play and tucked the comm device away. He stood at full height and extended his hand with exaggerated courtesy. She didn't rush to accept it, but when she did, he pulled her firmly towards him, a close but incomplete embrace that marked the start of their dance.

And so it began. Hands together, arms together, but neither quite at shoulder and hip, an offset v, and Alexa smiling with a wicked grin, Doug looking more determined. The first steps were nothing to write home about, but at a certain point Alexa swayed away to trace a detailed schematic in the sand with her foot before bouncing her toe playfully against the back of Doug's ankle. He nodded, almost imperceptibly, and swung her out and around in a very slight dip before drawing her in again. More steps, lengthened this time. Doug stayed mostly to her left, only occasionally stepping forward more deeply, but after that first dip he swung her plenty, if gently. For her part, she followed, adding little flutters as seemed necessary.

"Spin to sweetheart," he muttered. And they did, shifting to short little tripping steps that ended with them almost side by side, facing forward. The corridor was a little tight, but they were managing fine. Alexa turned to him and readjusted her left arm, off his shoulder and, slowly, back upon it, almost to his neck, and slanted into him. He stepped back and almost dragged her a few paces before beginning the standard dance steps again. Back, forward, sometimes small, sometimes long and quick. Another spin, this time with Doug doing all the spinning, his feet flicking with improbable kicks, and her tripping around in respectful orbit, ending with a very slow step that had his left foot and her right one sliding back and forth almost atop each other.

Damn, skippy, but Doug knew tango. So did she, her favorite dance. What more could they do? Good thing she was an Outfitter, ready with a checklist to run through.

She stepped a little closer to him, and their position shifted into a tighter embrace. This limited their movements a little, with respect to spins and twists, but allowed their feet to grow more playful. She tapped the back of his knee at one point, he made a nice pivot with her as the axle. She noticed that even as they took the simplest long strides, he'd flick his foot ever so slightly, almost tapping his toe in the sand. She responded with a flutter of her own.

"Sweep and dip," he warned her. But she didn't need warning. His foot went wide, an arc ending behind her own, and pulling her leg up towards him as he bent her backwards. He hadn't warned her about the slight spin he added after that, but she wasn't surprised by that either. He snapped her up, and she leaned into him again, dropping her hands from his shoulder and hand and lifting her arms slightly back behind her, low and straight, her weight resting entirely on his chest. After a pause, she swept them over and forward with an exaggerated motion.

Then back into postion, much more open, you could have fit Tatsu between them now, moving quickly with long strides, he let go of her hand as they flared into separate but linked twirls.

"Lift? Hip?" she asked. He nodded. The music was coming to a close, she knew it well, and she wanted a really good ending. He twirled her to his side, bent slightly then boosted her as he stood up, just enough so that she rode on his hip for a second before slipping back to her feet. One more twirl, four more steps, and a final attentive sway ended the song.

They stood, panting slightly, hands clasped, chests touching lightly. Doug looked as if he'd been hit on the head with a hammer, as if he'd found a million credits under a sofa cushion, as if he'd been the first man on the planet to discover tango. Which he was. Alexa was beside herself with happiness. Not as good as Speedy, but this was now a thing. Poor Doug had no say in this. She was going to build a dance floor somewhere in New LA and then proceed to use him to burn it down. Brilliant. People would applaud and lose their sanity. She could almost hear the clapping now.

"Oh God." Doug suddenly twisted Alexa around and behind him. As she turned, she looked over his shoulder, way up into the platter-sized eyes of two very attentive, very large saltat. At some point during the First Tango on Mira, they had stepped out of the safe corridor and into the open. And had kept going. Damn the hypnotic qualities of that dance!

"Honk."

"Hoo."

Clapping. Then bowing. Then…

Alexa had Speedy open and Doug had practically flung her into the capsule before launching himself into it as well. Their ill-conceived tango had not just wandered them into saltat territory, it had also gotten them pretty much right up to Speedy. Something about moving towards as well as to the music. Alexa would think about their luck later. She and Doug had enough to do, rearranging themselves in the tight space, along with more than the requisite number of elbows (certainly there were more than 4 flying around here).

"Do you need to check the engine?"

"I'll do it later," she replied. Speedy's gauges lit up, and the engine seemed to be running acceptably. She wouldn't push it to maximum, or even half maximum. The storm was ebbing, if it wasn't over. Time to go.

"Alexa, look." Doug's voice was weird.

Not more sand? Or bigger saltat? Or something even worse, because Mira always had worse?

Their rotund bellies made it difficult, and their short legs limited their stride. But, the two saltat were clearly dancing, bill to bill, one wing high, one wing curled low, an offset V formation, sliding backwards and forwards, a perfect indigen version of….

She looked over at Doug. He had his comm device up, recording the indescribable scene.

"If this doesn't go viral within a day, I don't know what would."

"Gonna monetize it?"

"Hell yes."

She watched as one saltat spun out and back into the other's embrace. "Or maybe we could not tell anyone."

"They'd find out."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"I'll think about it."

Epilogue: They got home safe. Alexa bought Doug breakfast. Speedy was okay, after an air filter change. Tika never came back from the mimeosome center that day, so Doug reluctantly agreed to let Alexa sub for one of his team members as a way to continue running her tests. Cool beans! And if you see something weird on Mira, please enjoy it. Enjoy it. Enjoy it.

A/N: The internet is full of tango videos, drool, but when I steal, I steal from the best. You want to see something amazing? Hunt for "tango Vienna 2013 Arce Montes." Watch it once, then again with Alexa and Doug in mind. Then again with saltat. Either way, it's amazing. If you are a hipster, you may prefer OK Go's Skyscrapers (once it goes green, especially), but good as that is, it can't lay a finger on it.

And, mercy, if you can't tell how much I love this game, you aren't paying attention. I. love. This. Game.