Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.
"This is so weird."
"Don't worry, this should feel natural after a little while."
"…is your hand supposed to be there?"
"Yes, it is. Otherwise, we lose connection, and you won't be able to tell what we're doing."
"I'm pretty sure I'll know exactly what we're doing."
"You know what I mean."
"And you know what I think? This whole conversation could be taken out of context very easily."
Henry shook his head despairingly, but he pulled on a playful grin. "And how would this be taken, Rika?"
Arching a delicate eyebrow as she settled herself more comfortably in Henry's arms, Rika responded dryly, "If it were Takato, like a heart attack."
Laughing, Henry replied, "Double entendre, much?"
"Yes, he would be both scandalized and jealous. Now, standing here like this without doing anything is getting awkward, so if you don't mind, I'd like to get this show on the road. Though, coming down to it, I don't remember why I agreed to this in the first place…"
"I asked nicely," Henry answered with a smirk. "And don't think that I didn't see the look in your eyes when I suggested that you could do this with our good friend Takato once he got back."
"You saw no such thing. And, on that note, I'm offended that you only offered to me because Jeri's not getting home until Friday."
"It's an opportunity to teach someone else before I try it with Jeri."
"Practice makes perfect, then?" Rika asked with a wicked smirk. "And you know you walked right into that one."
Rolling his eyes, Henry broke away. "Well, it's obvious that this isn't going to go anywhere beyond lewd puns, so I'll just take my music and—"
"Alright, alright," his companion interrupted, still wearing an impish look. "I'll be serious."
"Good," Henry responded, stepping back up. "Okay, your right hand in my left, your left on my shoulder—no, not on top, along the collarbone—my right on your waist. And square up. Not like a box, our feet need to be staggered. Yeah, that's it."
"Got it. Now what?"
"I step forward with my right, and you move back on your left. Yes, like that. Now, we shift to the right."
"Whose right, my right, or your right?"
"Mine, I'm the lead. Okay, feet back together, and we move back again. No, we step back on the right like before."
"You're stepping back, I'm moving forward."
"You already said that."
"No, I said—okay, I see. Yes, what you said is correct. Happy?"
Rika snorted. "As happy as any woman can be in your arms, Henry."
"Ouch," the young man winced. "That was a low blow. And don't go there."
"Wouldn't think of it."
"That's Jeri's job."
"…damn it, Rika."
Shaking his head—which was beginning to hurt, and Rika's snickering didn't help matters in the slightest—Henry asked, "What have you been learning at college? Mind you, it's good to hear you laugh so easily, but I'd think that you could have picked up a more tasteful sense of humor…"
Shrugging, Rika responded equally, "And what about you, Mister Harvard? You're the one bringing back American dance styles. What have you been up to on the other side of the world?"
"Finding a good many reasons to transfer, which yes, I am doing, I'll explain some other time. Otherwise, I can teach you Blues swing dancing later, if you really want to know what I've been picking up."
"Sounds like fun," Rika stated lasciviously, drawing her fingers across her partner's shoulder before settling her hand back in its proper position. "But let's stick with this until I've got it."
"Formal it is." Heaving an exasperated sigh, Henry queried, "Okay, where were we?"
"You expect me to remember? I barely know what we're doing."
"Uh huh. We'll start over, then. Step forward, to the side, back—now we step left, starting on my left."
"Yeah. And that's the basic step. Easy enough."
"It still feels weird."
"Let's do it again a few times. One, two. One, two…"
"You didn't explain that part."
Sighing again, Henry said wearily, "That's the count. The beat. Two beats to a step, which gives us eight for the basic."
"Ah, that makes sense. So…okay, I see."
"One, two. One, two. One, two. One, two."
"Yeah, got it."
"That's good. You're picking it up pretty quickly, I suppose."
"Let's keep at it," Rika replied, stepping backwards.
"No, hang on."
"What is it now?"
"You stepped on your own. That's not how you do it."
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm the lead. You have to follow my movements, which is the point of having connection through our arms—"
"I thought Americans were big on gender equality and all that? How does that fit in with such blatant sexism in dancing?"
"It doesn't, and yes, that raises some hackles over there. But I'd rather not think about that right now. Trust me, it's much more enjoyable if we play our roles the way we're supposed to."
"If you say so," came the response, complete with waggling eyebrows.
"…who are you, and what have you done with the real Rika? I'm having a hard time believing that you're the Ice Queen from our earlier years, no matter how much thawing out you've done in the intervening period."
"People change, Henry. It's a fact of life. Did you not expect college to have such an impact on us?"
Starting into another series of steps, Henry said slowly, "No, I knew it was going to happen. It's just strange to see what we become, knowing what we were like before…"
"Yeah. I know that feeling." Chuckling a few times, Rika replied lightly, "Still, some things never change. Kazu's still a doofus, and Ryo's still got an inflated ego."
"I'll grant that. Kazu's seeing a nice girl, though, from what I hear. And Ryo seems to be settling down comfortably with what's-her-name…"
"Heh. He seems to like strong-willed girls who don't hesitate to verbally abuse him."
"It's his thing, I guess," she snorted.
As they stepped into another basic, Henry asked, "What about Takato? How's art school treating him? I haven't heard from him directly for a while."
"He's enjoying it. It's the literature and history classes at the community college that are really grabbing his attention now, though. Some good professors there, he says." Nibbling at her lower lip, Rika said more thoughtfully, "He's really growing up. You remember when he used to daydream incessantly, and doodle all over his school notebooks? He's thinking bigger thoughts now, really. The stuff that comes out of his mouth…it's deep. I mean, really deep."
"Surprisingly so, then?"
"Yeah. Then he starts quoting people I've barely heard of to back up his points. And he does it so unconsciously that it's bizarre. I don't think any of us, he included, would have taken him for a scholar."
"I think I've got the step down. You want to turn the music on?"
"Sounds good." Breaking off, Henry strode over to his laptop and pulled up a slow song.
"I think I recognize this."
"It's kind of a waltz, so it works for our purposes."
"Okay, so we step in time with the beat. One, two. One, two…yeah, that's it."
"Just like this?"
"Yeah, that's right."
"I guess it doesn't feel quite so weird now."
"Like I said, you get used to it. You just have to move with it…"
"…I suppose so."
"Old fashioned ringtone. I like it."
"Thanks. And…yes, that's Jeri. Guess that'll cut this short."
"That's fine. We can do this again in a few days when I'm off work. The others will be back by then, too."
Henry chuckled. "Party on."
A/N: A tribute to that sacred art of dance, as well as to the approximate age our favorite Tamers would be about now. Heck, it's been almost a decade since the show was on…where has the time gone?