Dance

Bryce's trailer was literally rocking.

It was shaking rhythmically on its suspension and an electronic cacophony that was possibly music was pulsating from the inadvertent giant speaker. If she didn't know better, she'd have said Bryce was having a party. Or sex.

She shook her head good naturedly and moved on.

When they sat down to dinner not an hour later, Bryce was visibly in need of a shower. Hillary rolled his eyes but said nothing.

"It gets like an oven in that trailer."

"What were you doing?"

"DDR."

"Oh," said Lara, as if that explained everything.

"It's a game. Dancing. Jump on the arrows in time to the music."

"Oh," said Lara, as if that explained everything.

"There's a tournament at Comic Con next week."

"Oh," said Lara. That definitely explained everything.

"You'd be good," Bryce said. And then a wicked grin slowly grew across his face and Lara caught on to exactly what he was thinking.

"No."

"Yes."

"No, no, no."

"Doubles category!"

"No!"

Despite her protestations, three days later, the PlayStation was set up in the gym and Lara and Bryce were putting the finishing flourishes to their routine.

"Right. Right, left, 180. Right, right, left, right, forward!"

They each finished with an arm raised skyward, and, despite her protestations, Lara broke into a laugh as the game tallied their scores. More 'good' than 'perfect'.

"We are gonna win," said Bryce.

"We're not," said Lara, taking his hands, stepping him back off the play stage and pushing him into a clumsy, unaccompanied waltz, Bryce too clueless to realise she was leading.

"Yes we are. We're gonna win. Trophies. Trophies and hot geek girls."

"You showed me the video of last year's winners, Bryce. We're not going to win." She dipped him.

They didn't win. They didn't even make the top three. No trophies, and no hot geek girls. Bryce said Lara had frightened them away, that people had assumed she was his girlfriend. Lara smirked incredulously.

Their dance hall days didn't end there, though. In unoccupied, absent minded moments together, they'd bust a quick move, Bryce obliging Lara with his hand for a quick twirl, or she offering an impromptu lesson in simple ballroom.

Whilst the kettle boiled in one late night gym designing session, Bryce led Lara in a kitchen waltz.

"I think you should have a boulder on a ramp. The perfect practise for the next time you find yourself in an Indiana Jones style predicament."

"Not even I have the room or resources for that. I'll just set the pace higher on the treadmill."

"But you need to prepare yourself for the drama, the noise, the vibration."

"There will be no indoor boulders, Bryce."

"Pity."

He dipped her, and she would have laughed it off, but they were both too taken with the unexpectedly intense gaze between them. Slowly, he kissed her.

And then they came back to themselves and broke the eye contact and the kettle conveniently boiled and Lara straightened her top self consciously before going to pour the tea. And, staring after her, a wicked grin slowly grew across Bryce's face.

The End