Wonderful Night – Fatboyslim
You're body's like a narcotic, the thought is autoerotic
.
He closes the hatch concealing the passage way down to his office then spins to search for them, his eyes roaving over the booth they'd just been occupying, then to the bar, excepting them to be awaiting refills.
Then he spots the flash of blue, the movement of her hair confirms it. He begins to weave through the movement of people, he wonders where all the people have come from. How long was he in the office? Not only has he now lost his partner and friends to the dance floor, but he also has to force his way through a small crush of people.
Then he's popped out the other side, on the edge of the dance floor. He can't keep his eyes off her, but his attention is caught by the pathetic attempts emitting from Esposito and Ryan as they have some form of dance off, a small circle forming around them and he loses sight of her. The long legs gone, her slim waist lost behind some heavy framed individual, he can't even spot a flash of blue, no sign of her movements from the crowd.
Then she's sliding her hands down his arm, her grip firm on his skin and she attempts to pull him back towards the others, not bothering to stop her movements in time to the music, the red flush across a nice contrast to her usual pale colour. But he doesn't follow, just catches her hip in his free hand, laces his fingers through hers, tugging her close. She doesn't resist, just regards him cautiously as he slides his hand further around her body, urging her to move her body in time with his.
Then he catches the eye of a man behind them eyeing her off and he spins them both so the man has little choice to stare at his own backside instead of hers. When he chuckles at the thought, she leans back a little, still curious.
"I never knew you could dance, Castle," she teases softly, her breath at his ear, an arm lopped casually around his neck, pulling herself closer.
He swallows. He can't really, not like this at least. He's just made a point of matching his rhythm to her own and hoping she didn't notice. She apparently hasn't.
"One of my many hidden talents," he says softly as he presses his cheek against hers. then she's laughing again, dropping his hand and sliding her hand up to lop it around his neck too.
Now it's his turn to regard her, silently questioning.
Her only response is to shrug a little. Their rhythm in no way matches the music anymore, they're basically just swaying. But he couldn't care less. He is completely mesmerised by everything about her.