The way Mira moved was like a dream and the way that hooded man moved was like a nightmare. Mira circled the stage one last time ending in a spin and landing on her toes. The audience roared and applauded at the girl in the dark ballet garb. Mira bowed and was joined by her fellow dancers. There he is again...she thought when she spied the hooded figure moving towards the exit, a flash of a bright pink suit appearing as he turned. For a moment she forgot she was on stage and lingered while the floor manager tried to get her attention.
"Mira...Mira... MIRA" She heard the harsh whisper and bowed once more with her companions. She looked again for the man but he was gone. Here in Gotham, most would avoid trying to track down a man in a hood, but this was different. She exited stage left and practically ran to her dressing room striping as she went. This time she was going to catch him. It seemed that this man had a soft spot for either the dance or the star dancer, Mira. She couldn't tell but she knew he had been to every single performance of this particular piece, and tonight she would find out why. Mira flew into her dressing room, past congratulatory hugs and waving fans. She brushed through her dark long hair and scrubbed her makeup revealing her Carmel colored skin. She jumped into her street clothes and cleaned up as best she could. He's getting away. She flew again to the stage door hoping no one was waiting for her. She breathed deeply readying herself for a chase and opened the door.
At first she was disappointed, she was greeted by a crowd of fans waiting to meet her, but after plastering a smile and scanning the crowd, she saw him. He was waiting for her, hood still up. He was staring right at her with a smirk and a soft twinkle in his bright blue eyes that she hadn't seen till now. She was shaken back to reality when a little girl no more than 7 tugged at her jeans. She remembered herself and that her fans were what kept her going and without them she would still be living off of food stamps. She put on a genuine smile and greeted her fans, every few minutes glancing to the man making sure he hadn't escaped. He just stood there, leaning against a lamp post, hands in his pockets. His gaze would leave her periodically but would always return to her, to Mira. Every time she glanced his way, she would notice something different about him: his dirty blond hair just barely visible under his hood; his strong jaw that seemed perpetually clenched ready for harsh words; his pink suit jacket seemed so out of place compared to the rest of the dark night. Its pastel pink cloth reflecting light to his face making him seem more innocent. His hooded jacket and dark perfectly pressed slacks managed to conceal the rest of him, but even so, she could see that he was tense, intimidating with a dark sweetness that she couldn't quite place. She signed the last of the playbills and took the last few pictures and checked her phone out of habit. When she looked up the man was gone, she took a few steps toward the lamp post wondering if he had crossed the street when she heard a deep sultry voice behind her,
"Looking for me?" Mira whipped around to find herself face to face with this stranger.
"uh...'' She stuttered.
"Excuse me, that was terribly rude of me, my name is Sa...Swee...uh just call me ...S.T. I'm a big fan." He said extending a hand. The way he spoke, he sounded like a lush but at the same time his words were dripping with sarcasm. She shook his hand and replied
"I'm Mira... but I guess you already knew that" she said slightly embarrassed. The way he looked at her was so sweet, almost too sweet. Finally he dropped his hood revealing an even more distinguished face with high cheekbones and an even stronger jaw. He seemed older or tired; more like exhausted with life.
"You dance beautifully. I...guess you may have noticed me at previous performances." Mira nodded trying to speak but something wouldn't let her, something In her brain made her stop and listen to this man.
"Well I come to every performance of this... particular... piece .. because my mother was the original choreographer." His smirk faded at the mention of his mother and his gaze trailed off into the distance.
"You're mother was Emile Travis?" Mira blurted out without thinking. She suddenly remembered what happened to Emile Travis. It had happened years ago, but every dancer knows about it. She was murdered, in a hit and run.
"I'm sorry" she blurted again noticing that ST was cringing at the sound of his mothers name.
"It's alright ... sweetheart, you didn't kill her" He said with an awkward chuckle that any sane man couldn't have managed. ST saw the fear in Mira's dark brown eyes and decided to leave her...for now.
"Well, I should be going. But I will see you later, Mira Sisko." Just like that, he was gone. Mira stood in the soft glow of the lamp post wanting to go after him. Somehow though, she knew he would keep his promise, Mira would be seeing ST again very soon.
Mira was again shaken to reality by a few straggling fans begging for pictures. She obliged, but couldn't help but think about ST. She finally was on her way home and she searched every face for that smirk and the bright blue eyes. She made it home and was comforted by the familiarity of it all. Mira decided to try to take her mind off of ST, after all he was a complete stranger and nothing more than a fan. She finally manage to convince herself of this as she put on her favorite movie to fall asleep to: Spirited Away.