Uncommonly Intelligent Chapter 9: The Meryton Assembly, a pride and prejudice fanfic

A/N: The POVs move around in this chapter, and the timeline may back up a bit when a new POV starts. Please let me know in your reviews if this makes the sequence of events hard to follow.

There are a few lines in the middle of this chapter that are taken almost verbatim from the original, as an homage to Miss Austen. They don't quite fit seamlessly with my own writing style, but they are too iconic to change, and I suppose she did her best.

Chapter 9: The Meryton Assembly

Longbourn, Hertfordshire, September 30, 1811

"Lizzy!" shrieked Mrs. Bennet. "What is taking you so long?"

Elizabeth Bennet sighed as she put the final touches on Jane's hair. As if her beautiful older sister needed her help! Jane always looked perfectly coiffed, even when she first got out of bed in the morning. In contrast, no matter how long she spent on it, Lizzy's own hair rarely waited two minutes before it began to escape its bonds. Already she noticed a curl out of place. She wet her fingers and tried to smooth it back, to no avail.

"We are coming, mama!" She made one last effort, but the curl fell back as soon as she released it. She gave up and stuck her tongue out at the mirror.

All they needed now were their ribbons. She moved a small stool from the corner and put it near the window, stood on it, and reached up to retrieve the ribbons she had hidden by draping them over the rod behind the curtains. She hadn't dared to leave them in her closet, or they likely would have been stolen by Lydia for a friendly prank.

This was to be her youngest sister's unofficial coming out, and Lydia was over the moon. Though she was barely 16, Mr. Bennet had decided to make an exception for this assembly, as almost everyone there would be familiar to the family, and with the harvest moon only two days away, it would be one of the merriest events of the year. He did not have the heart to leave her sitting home alone - even her governess, Miss Landers, had left shortly after Netherfield had closed two years earlier - while the rest of her family was partying and dancing, but he warned her strictly to be on her best behavior, or her next assembly would be a long time coming. Even though Lydia's body was maturing much faster than her mind, she was still aware that her father was serious about this.

Lizzy handed Jane a ribbon of palest yellow, and tied her own emerald green ribbon around her waist. She might not have the overflowing charms of Lydia, or the face of a goddess like Jane, but she did have the smallest waist in the family. She briefly chided herself for being vain about such trivial matters, when the good Lord had blessed her in so many other ways. With a quick final inspection of each other, Lizzy and Jane went downstairs to their mother.

"Let me see you, girls. Stand here," ordered Mrs. Bennet. Lizzy felt like a soldier on parade as her mother inspected her daughters minutely. "Oh Jane, you look very well!" Mrs. Bennet gushed. You shall certainly capture Mr. Bingham's eye, and dare I say, his heart?"

Lizzy said quietly, "I believe I heard Charlotte say his name is Bingley, mama."

Fanny, not liking to be corrected, turned her attention to Elizabeth. "Lizzy, you might have given some attention to your hair, but it will have to do, for there is no time now," she said as she turned and headed for the door. "Come, girls, everyone else is ready."

Elizabeth shook her head in frustration, but Jane smiled and took her arm. "Lizzy, do not let her spoil your evening. In truth, you look very well, and the men at the assembly will agree, I am sure."

While Mrs. Bennet's overt hostility toward Lizzy had waned several years ago, she still clearly preferred Jane and Lydia, and to a lesser extent, Kitty. That was one reason that Mary was the closest sister to Lizzy after Jane. Another was that Mary had the most philosophical bent of her four sisters, and along with her father and Charlotte Lucas, was one of the few people she knew who enjoyed discussing deep subjects. She had learned over the years that at best, most people did not enjoy it, and at worst, they thought she was showing off.

Lizzy looked for Charlotte as soon as she entered the assembly hall, but it seemed that Charlotte had also been looking for her, for she appeared in front of Lizzy almost instantly. "Well, Lizzy, are you ready to meet the nabobs from Town?"

"Oh, are there to be people from Town tonight? I wonder why my mother didn't mention it," said Lizzy, and they both laughed, for Mrs. Bennet had talked of nothing else as soon as the word got around that Mrs. Nicholls was hiring servants.

"In truth," said Charlotte, "we don't really know. My father rode over to Netherfield today to invite them, but they had not yet arrived, so all he could do was ask Mrs. Nicholls to tell them they were welcome. A fine coach was seen going through Meryton late this afternoon, and everyone assumes it was them, but we have not heard whether they will attend."

"Has Sir William met them before?"

"Only two of them, and only briefly, a few weeks ago when they were looking around Netherfield and Meryton. My mother would not leave him alone until he admitted that he believes they are both single and both handsome. And just by the way, both are rich. One of them is supposed to be closely related to a duke or earl or something. But some of the people who saw the coach come through town today said that there was more than one woman in it."

Lizzy giggled. "Oh, how it would vex mama if they were betrothed! But no, surely they would not be staying at the same house if they were betrothed. Perhaps they have sisters?"

Charlotte was about to reply, but then both ladies noticed that a change in the timbre of conversation was rippling from the entrance as people observed the arrival of a party of strangers. Charlotte, standing on her toes to see over the people in front of them, said, "So they did come, after all. I must join my parents and greet them. Would you like to come with me?"

"No, you go ahead," said Lizzy. Charlotte smiled in farewell and walked quickly toward the entrance.

Lizzy drifted toward the side of the room, and almost behind a group of people. She wanted to be as inconspicuous as possible so that she could observe the Netherfield party closely without them noticing her. She reminded herself that since they were complete strangers, and from a different level of society, she could not put too much weight on her first assessment of them. Nevertheless, she wanted to see their faces as they met her friends and neighbors, for with her near-perfect recall she would be able to compare their expressions now with what she learned of them later. She saw Charlotte and John Lucas converge from different directions on their parents as Sir William and Lady Lucas stepped forward to greet the newcomers.

It turned out that her talents were wasted on the first couple who entered. They were practically caricatures - the woman as snobbish as if she were the queen herself, and the man as excited and friendly as a puppy. The woman was dressed in a bright orange gown that was exquisitely tailored, but it was cut lower than was commonly seen in Meryton, and it did no favors for her complexion. She was tall and slender, her height exaggerated by the long plumes in her turban. She had a pretty face, if slightly sharp cheekbones, but the way she looked about with disdain, as if neither the hall nor its inhabitants had any right to occupy the same planet as she, rather spoiled her looks.

The jovial blond man beside her could not have been more different. He had a broad smile on his boyishly handsome face as he greeted Sir William warmly. Lizzy could not hear what was said, but from the gestures it was obvious that he was introducing himself and his party with geniality.

The second couple was much less animated. The man was short and stout, and it seemed as if he were looking for something, for his head swiveled about until his eyes settled on the table where the beverages were kept, and he rarely looked away from it after that. His companion, a woman who was unmistakably the first woman's sister but with softer features, looked as if she were not especially interested in anything.

Bringing up the rear was an unaccompanied gentleman who, Lizzy noted with some mirth, could only be described as tall, dark, and handsome. Despite his impressive frame, he seemed to move gingerly, and Lizzy wondered if he might be in some pain. A recent injury, or perhaps a headache?

Ah, but now came the moment she was waiting for. Her mother was approaching Sir William to be introduced to the newcomers, not quite dragging Jane with one hand, and Lydia with the other, while Kitty trailed behind them. Mrs. Bennet had apparently favored speed over courtesy, for she had not even bothered to collect her husband, let alone Lizzy and Mary. But all Lizzy cared about was that Jane was about to meet the Netherfield party.

A very important component of how Lizzy judged a new male acquaintance was his reaction upon first seeing Jane. She cautioned herself yet again that these were strangers, and that she could not be sure that a look was lascivious, but the fact remained that she had rarely been wrong about that type of first impression.

But again, her talent was not needed. The tall handsome man's eyes flickered over Jane as if she were part of the furniture. The stout man still seemed more interested in the beverage table than the people around him. And the smiling, friendly man looked as if he had been struck by lightning.

Mary saw what Lizzy was doing, and edged up to her. "Well, Lizzy, what is your verdict?" she asked.

Lizzy grinned at Mary. "I imagine it would be the same as yours, for I see no disguise in that group. Mostly, their attitudes are quite apparent. I do not get on with the very tall man, though, for something physical seems to be bothering him. Shall we go over and be introduced while mama is still there?"

Mary agreed, and they made their way over to the newcomers. Sir William said, "Ah, here are the last, but not least, of the Bennet sisters. May I present Miss Elizabeth, and Miss Mary. Ladies, this is Mr. Bingley, who has just hired Netherfield; his elder sister and her husband, Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, his younger sister, Miss Caroline Bingley, and his friend, Mr. Darcy."

Bows and curtsies were exchanged, but before any conversation could be had, the musicians struck a chord to indicate that the dancing was about to begin.

Taking this as a signal, Mr. Hurst headed for the beverages. Mr. Darcy winced, as if the sound were painful, but then recovered himself and after another bow in the general direction of Sir William, turned and walked away. Toward where, Lizzy could not say, for there was nothing in the direction he was headed but a blank wall.

Lizzy observed a flash of surprise, and then of anger, on the face of Caroline Bingley before it settled back into its lines of haughty disdain. Miss Bingley took Mrs. Hurst's arm and walked off toward one of the alcoves. She expected Mr. Darcy to dance the first set with her, Lizzy thought.

Mr. Bingley alone remained, but did not seem to be aware that he had been abandoned. Instead, he asked Jane, "Miss Bennet, are you engaged for this set?"

Jane blushed and shook her head. "I am not, sir."

"Then would you do me the honor of dancing it with me?" he asked, smiling so widely Lizzy wondered how he did it.

"It would be my pleasure, sir."

Lizzy saw triumph in her mother's eyes. No doubt she had maneuvered Jane around in such a way as to prevent her from being approached by other men for precisely this reason. Jane would dance the first set with Mr. Bingley.

Darcy had not expected much from the Meryton assembly hall, and he felt justified. The floor was dingy, the candles were smoky, and the discordant tuning up of the musicians implied that they were self-taught. He clenched his jaw and prepared for the worst as they walked in, and this time all his expectations were met. Following the initial hush as his party entered the hall, the murmurs began. "Ten thousand a year... Derbyshire... Grosvener Square... nephew of a duke..."

They were low in their estimate of his income and high in their estimate of his relations, Darcy reflected, but at least their real estate information was accurate. He idly wondered how even such a distorted picture of his situation had gotten to this out-of-the-way hamlet, but he supposed it was not so far from London that there could not be an active exchange of information and rumor. Just once, he thought bitterly, it would be nice to be appraised for my character, rather than my net worth. He knew he could not avoid being introduced to what passed for the leading families of the area, but he resolved to find a place to hide in plain sight after that. Remote enough to avoid the crowd, but not remote enough to allow a compromise. He began looking for a likely corner even as Sir William was introducing the Bennets.

Then the orchestra struck a painfully loud chord, and people began to pair off to dance. He briefly considered asking Miss Bingley, strictly out of courtesy to Charles, but he could not forgive her for making his day so miserable, so instead he bowed and left the group.

Darcy walked along the wall until he found a place out of the way to stand and reconnoiter. He looked for Miss Bingley, but only so he could avoid her. He was sure that she wanted to dance with him, but he wasn't in the mood to dance with anyone, let alone her. Then he saw her emerge from an alcove with her sister. She was almost directly across the room from him, and he made it his mission to maintain that separation. Whichever way she moved, he moved away from there, attempting to keep the distance between them at a maximum.

After the first dance, Charles approached his friend.

"Come, Darcy," said Bingley. "I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. Upon my honor, I have never seen so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening; and there are several of them, you see, uncommonly pretty."

"You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room," said Mr. Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.

"Oh, she is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable."

"Which do you mean?" and turning round, he looked for a moment at Elizabeth, till, catching her eye, he withdrew his own, and coldly said, "She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me; and I am in no humor at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me."

Mr. Bingley followed his advice. Darcy scowled down at the floor as he turned to resume his position against the wall, only to be brought up short by the sight of a ball gown nearly at his feet as a woman stood directly in front of him, blocking his path. "What now?" he thought to himself, raising his eyes to what he expected would be a simpering, empty-headed chit angling for a dance.

Instead, he beheld the woman he had just slighted, and far from simpering, she was glaring at him. He now recognized her as the second of the Bennet sisters - Elizabeth, if he recalled correctly. Strange, but when they had been introduced near the entrance, and she had her back to the room, her eyes had seemed dark brown. But now as she looked up at him, the light from the chandelier behind him illuminated golden flecks in her eyes that made them seem amber, and almost glowing. He barely had time to realize that they looked somehow familiar before she addressed him without curtsy or preamble.

"You are a Cambridge man, Mr. Darcy?"

Well now, this was certainly an unconventional approach. Of the fortune hunters he was accustomed to fending off, most talked about banal subjects, like the weather. The more subtle asked about people in the upper crust he might know. The more crass asked about his houses and acreages. No one had ever asked which college he attended. He wondered if she were trying to pass herself off as an intellectual, but at least she had done her research, if she knew that he had attended Cambridge.

"I am," he replied curtly. "May I ask how you knew?"

"I did not know," she denied, "I merely wanted to confirm my deduction. You see, my father attended Oxford, and he has always said that Cambridge men could not pour water out of a boot, even if the instructions were printed on its sole. I had assumed this to be an exaggeration, but now I see that they do not even teach mathematics at Cambridge."

Darcy was growing more confused by the second. "I assure you, madam, they do teach mathematics at Cambridge."

"Indeed? And does this instruction include counting?"

Darcy was now totally lost. "I am afraid I do not have the pleasure of understanding you."

"It's really quite simple, Mr. Darcy. If you could count, you would see that there are many more women here than men, which has been the common state at these assemblies since so many young men have either volunteered or been pressed into service." She looked at him dubiously. "You are aware that England is at war, yes?"

Darcy, half stunned and half thinking the question was rhetorical, gave no answer.

Lizzy sighed theatrically. "Oh dear, I am sorry to have broken the news to you so abruptly. But the relevant point is, there is a temporary shortage of men, and as we ladies are all friends here, we have agreed among ourselves to sit out some sets so that everyone who wishes to dance can do so."

Her eyes displayed amber fire again as she tilted her chin up. "A lady sitting out a dance is not necessarily slighted by other men, though she be only tolerable. As for my looks, you are of course entitled to your opinion, just as I am entitled to mine about your manners. Or lack thereof. Good evening, sir," she concluded, and after a curtsy of approximately a quarter-inch in depth, she walked past him, leaving him gaping.

Darcy stood there, mortified. Good Lord, she heard me! More, she all but cut me! He was used to women who simpered, fawned, and agreed with everything he said. He had never had a set down like this, that somehow made him feel as if he were the thickest dolt who ever lived. And the way those amber eyes seemed to glow with fury was just as remarkable.

And there was one more thing. A hint of scent lingered in the space Miss Elizabeth had vacated. Unlike the cloying sweetness of the perfume that Caroline Bingley used so liberally, it was subtle, and not so much sweet as tantalizing.

He collected himself and resumed his journey to the wall, but he could not get those eyes out of his thoughts. He was almost certain he had seen eyes like that before, but as he pictured all the women he had ever known, none of them seemed remotely viable as candidates. "Well, it will come to me," he thought.

It did come to him a few minutes later. In a way, he had been correct; it had been no woman of his acquaintance.

It was an animal he had once seen at the Tower menagerie. A lioness.

John Lucas and his friends had already started on the punch when the Netherfield party arrived, and were even generous enough to fortify it with some spirits they had smuggled in. There was a great deal of nudging and grinning as they observed the women of that party enter the hall, for they were both attractive, particularly the tall one, though she seemed rather high in the instep. John quickly strode over to his father to be introduced to the newcomers, then rejoined his friends by the punch.

"The blond man is Bingley," he informed them. "The women are his sisters, and the shorter one is married to the fat bloke, but his other sister is single." He noticed that his young friend Robert Stevens seemed especially smitten with that lady. Robert was attending his first assembly, and he was anxious to appear sophisticated.

"Here, Robert," John said, handing him a cup of spiked punch, then added in a confidential tone, though not low enough to prevent his other friends from hearing, "Robert, I think the one in the orange is looking at you." Robert quickly turned to see if this were the case, and John winked at his other friends, who caught on immediately.

Caroline Bingley, seeing a sudden motion in the corner of her eye, turned to see what it was, and saw one of the local oafs staring at her. She glared at him for a moment to put him in his place, then looked away.

"Did you see, Robert? She was definitely looking at you!"

Robert took another swallow of punch, and said, "Do you really think so?"

"It's obvious, Robert. I'm sure she wants to dance with you. It's too bad you can't just walk over and say hello, but maybe I can find my father and have him introduce you."

"You're a chum, John," Robert said, as John handed him another cup of punch. As Robert began to drink, another of his friends said, "She just looked at you again, Robert!"

Robert whipped around quickly, almost spilling his punch. This made Caroline instinctively look in that direction again, until she saw it was the same young oaf, and turned away in disgust. How long must she endure this rabble before she danced with Darcy?

"I think she must be shy, Robert. She keeps looking at you, but she's too proper to do it when you're looking back at her. Town women are very particular about introductions, you know. You stay here by the punch, so I'll know where you are when I find my father."

Robert nodded gratefully. He hadn't seen a woman so elegant and richly dressed since Lady Rutherford had left the neighborhood over two years ago. And Lady Rutherford had not been nearly as young, let alone pretty, as this woman. Her low-cut gown and high cheekbones made his throat dry. He gulped down another cup of punch.

John Lucas took his time finding his father, for the more drunk Robert became, the funnier it would be when he asked that snooty chit to dance. But he finally decided the time was right, and signaled to Robert to come over. He saw Robert take one final gulp of punch before he began weaving his way toward John and Sir William.

Sir William was happy to grant his son's request to introduce Robert Stevens to Miss Bingley, for he liked the Stevens family. After Robert joined them, the three made their way through the crowd to where Miss Bingley was standing with her sister.

Caroline looked up and noticed Sir William approaching with two young men. Then she looked more closely, and saw that one of them was the clod who kept staring at her. Oh, excellent, she thought. If that so-called Sir William tries to introduce us, I swear I will scream.

Robert could not keep his eyes off Miss Bingley, and his stomach did a flip-flop when he saw that she was looking at him, rather than his companions, even though John Lucas was older and more handsome. He also felt rather light-headed. Is this what it feels like to be in love? Then his stomach did another flip-flop, and another. Wait, something is wrong. Oh no...

The three men had almost reached Caroline when Robert's eyes suddenly became glassy, and his face turned greenish. Caroline began to step back, but not quite quickly enough. The boy cast up his accounts, and though most of it missed her, some splashed onto her gown.

Caroline shrieked, and every head in the room turned toward her. Darcy noticed that Elizabeth and Mary Bennet, along with Charlotte Lucas, immediately rushed over to Caroline with looks of genuine concern. He also noticed a group of young men by the beverage table laughing hysterically.

Charles Bingley rushed up to her and said, "Caroline, what happened?"

Caroline huffed. "One of these louts vomited, and some got on my gown. It is ruined! We must leave immediately."

"But you are not injured?"

"No, but I refuse to remain here another minute!"

"Then if you are uninjured, you may leave, but I will not. I am having a marvelous time here. Take Louisa and anyone else who wishes to leave, and send the carriage back for me. Darcy may wish to go with you, for he is in a foul mood."

Caroline had opened her mouth to argue, but it snapped shut when she thought that she might have another chance to be in Darcy's company without her brother. She therefore said, "Very well, Charles, I knew I could count on you to do nothing. Call for the carriage, and tell Mr. Darcy to join me at the entrance."

A few minutes later, she was irate to see Charles approaching her at the entrance with Louisa, but no Darcy. Before she could castigate him, Charles said, "Darcy and Hurst said they wish to stay, Caroline. There is no moving them. Louisa will accompany you to Netherfield."

Well, there was no help for it. She could not stay, and she could not compel Darcy to leave, so she would just have to write this evening off as a loss. With another huff, she flounced out of the hall and into the carriage without a backward glance at either Charles or Louisa. Louisa said goodbye to Charles and joined Caroline in the carriage.

Darcy had thought that Charles must be joking when he had asked whether he wanted to accompany Caroline home. As bad as the alleged musicians were, he would much rather listen to them than to Caroline's prattle. What he did not expect was that he was beginning to feel better. Pacing about the hall had helped loosen the kinks in his legs and neck from the coach ride, and now that he didn't have to watch out for Caroline, he was able to relax for the first time all day. His headache diminished.

As the music resumed, he noted Miss Elizabeth Bennet dancing with a man whom he hadn't met, and saw that she cut a very graceful figure. He replayed their conversation - if you could call it that - in his head, and was chagrined. She had certainly taken no prisoners, but other than her insults of Cambridge, she had the right of it. Of course there was a shortage of men due to the war, and of course ladies would have to sit out some dances. And, he had to admit, she was far more than "tolerable." He should apologize and ask her to dance. But would she even accept him now? He didn't want to put her in the position of having to choose between being his unwilling partner, or being forced to sit out the rest of the assembly.

Lizzy, Mary, and Charlotte were comparing notes on the Caroline Bingley fiasco when Lizzy saw that Mr. Darcy was approaching them. She hoped that he just happened to be heading toward someone or something behind her, but no, he was looking directly at her, and he stopped in front of them. She steeled herself for another confrontation, but to her surprise he smiled, bowed, and said, "Miss Lucas, are you engaged for the next set?"

Charlotte, concealing her surprise, said, "It is free, sir."

Darcy smiled again and said, "Then would you do me the honor of standing up with me?" and offered his arm as the music began.

Mary and Lizzy watched them stroll off, and then looked at each other. They each raised an eyebrow simultaneously, and they each laughed when they saw the other doing it. Will wonders never cease?, thought Lizzy.

Lizzy danced the following set with John Lucas, who for some reason could not stop chuckling, though he staunchly refused to say why. She looked away from him in exasperation and was amazed to see that Mr. Darcy was now dancing with Mary. He saw her looking at him and smiled, more broadly than he had before. Good Lord, he has dimples!

At the end of that set, Darcy brought Mary over to Lizzy, and bowed. "Miss Elizabeth, do you happen to have a set free?"

She looked at him warily. "I am not engaged for the next set, sir."

"Then my I have the honor?" He smiled and showed his dimples again.

Smiling wryly in spite of herself, Lizzy accepted.

"Mr. Darcy, what are you about?" asked Lizzy as they began their dance.

"I will conceal nothing. I wanted to dance with you, but I knew you would not accept until I had shown myself to be reformed."

Her face warmed. "And why should you want to dance with me, after I abused you so abominably?"

"First, to give myself the opportunity to apologize, and offer an explanation, though I am fully aware that nothing could justify my rudeness." He gave her a brief and censored account of his terrible day. "As I said, I know that none of that is an excuse, but I pray you will believe me when I say that such behavior is not my custom. My remarks were intended only to make Bingley leave off, and bore no relation to reality. Helen of Troy herself could have been sitting where you were, and I would have said the same."

Lizzy was by now almost completely mollified, for his claim of a bad headache aligned with her earlier impression, and she became more comfortable with him. Dare she try teasing him? "Well, sir, I estimate that by now Miss Helen is rather past her prime, so I am not terribly reassured."

Bingley had been dancing with Kitty, and happened to look up to see Darcy not only dancing, but seemingly enjoying himself. He was astonished to see Darcy actually chuckling as he was speaking to Miss Elizabeth.

"Very well, Miss Elizabeth, let me be more specific. Helen of Troy as she looked in the full bloom of youth. Will that suffice?"

Elizabeth frowned, but there was a sparkle in her eye. "I was rather hoping for Aphrodite," she sighed, "but I suppose Helen shall suffice. Very well, Mr. Darcy, consider yourself forgiven."

She gave him a smile, a real one this time, and Darcy almost missed a step. She had been attractive even when angry, but when she smiled like that, she was bewitching. As the dance led them toward the central chandelier, Darcy could not resist saying, "Miss Elizabeth, now that the light is a bit better, I believe you are correct. Aphrodite is a most apt comparison."

Elizabeth blushed in spite of herself. The man really could be most charming, and she enjoyed their banter. "Nobly done, Mr. Darcy. But since we are dancing, could you not manage to work in some reference to Terpsichore*?"

Darcy chuckled again. "Indeed, I was just about to do so. And I hope you have noticed that by dancing, I am upholding the honor of Cambridge, and proving that I can at least count to four."

Elizabeth's laughter tinkled like a crystal waterfall. And Darcy found that his headache had completely disappeared.

*Terpsichore was the ancient Greek muse of dance.

A/N: Nice save by Darcy, but don't think it will all be smooth sailing for ODC.

As always, corrections of any magnitude are welcomed, and thank you to everyone who reviews, faves, or follows.