Nyota Uhura (
nyota_uhura24) wrote2010-10-27 05:53 pm
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[SOL! Verse - Walk a Mile in My Shoes]
Nyota couldn't wait to get out of the house. The atmosphere had been tense ever since Kamau had come home bruised and bloody on Saturday night. She'd heard him arguing with their father the day before, but went into the room she shared with Sadiki and closed the door, not really wanting to hear anymore. They seemed to have reached a tentative truce, and she wanted to believe that the matter was over, but some part of her knew that even if they could let go of this particular incident this wasn't really the end. It wasn't the first time Kamau's choices had caused tension, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.
In any event, she was more than happy to bid farewell to her family for the evening. It wasn't even a lie to say she was going to meet a friend, even if there was no reason to inform her family that she was going to see Jim and he was going to teach her to dance. She shook off the feelings of guilt and focused on the fact that she was finally going to do something she'd been dreaming about since she was a little girl. Dancing with him in the diner was more fun than she'd ever imagined it could be. It simply felt right to move that way to the music, to be held in his arms. She wanted to feel that way again, slightly breathless but completely comfortable. In the process, she knew she'd have the opportunity to learn more about the man whose music spoke to her before they'd even introduced themselves. There was no denying that Jim was unlike anyone she'd known before; she looked forward to him constantly surprising her, and to how much she smiled when he was around. Seeing him always made her day a little brighter.
She tried to ignore the little fluttering in her chest as she got off the 2 subway at the stop closest to his house. She didn't go to the Bronx often, so she couldn't help looking around curiously as she walked to his apartment building, high heels clicking softly on the pavement. They seemed like the right shoes for dancing. When she got to the top floor she took a deep breath, feeling suddenly slightly nervous, and knocked.
In any event, she was more than happy to bid farewell to her family for the evening. It wasn't even a lie to say she was going to meet a friend, even if there was no reason to inform her family that she was going to see Jim and he was going to teach her to dance. She shook off the feelings of guilt and focused on the fact that she was finally going to do something she'd been dreaming about since she was a little girl. Dancing with him in the diner was more fun than she'd ever imagined it could be. It simply felt right to move that way to the music, to be held in his arms. She wanted to feel that way again, slightly breathless but completely comfortable. In the process, she knew she'd have the opportunity to learn more about the man whose music spoke to her before they'd even introduced themselves. There was no denying that Jim was unlike anyone she'd known before; she looked forward to him constantly surprising her, and to how much she smiled when he was around. Seeing him always made her day a little brighter.
She tried to ignore the little fluttering in her chest as she got off the 2 subway at the stop closest to his house. She didn't go to the Bronx often, so she couldn't help looking around curiously as she walked to his apartment building, high heels clicking softly on the pavement. They seemed like the right shoes for dancing. When she got to the top floor she took a deep breath, feeling suddenly slightly nervous, and knocked.
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Her eyes were fixed on him as he took a few steps away and started to move. This time her staring was perfectly justified, and she watched him fly across the floor with movements much quicker than any dance she'd previously seen. The dance seemed to fill up the whole room, and she couldn't have looked away even if she'd wanted to. A little thrill went through her at the thought that maybe someday she'd be able to move like that. Not maybe. Definitely. I can do this. She took careful stock of the rhythm of his steps, wanting to learn the basics as quickly as possible. The movements suited him so well, and as he slid across the floor on his knees to stop in front of her, his exquisite eyes were alive with something completely captivating.
She smiled down at him, obviously impressed, though there was still a challenge in her eyes. “I'd say there's no question that you do an impressive quickstep, Jim. Now I just need to know whether or not you can teach it.”
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Before showing her the steps, he started the music again and moved to stand in front of her. It was so freeing somehow to be doing this, to be dancing like this, even if he'd spend most of the night teaching and not dancing.
"Okay, so here are the basics. Watch my feet, I'll do it slowly to start with." Without touching her, he showed her the very basic steps once, then caught her eyes again. "You should have those down before we break for dinner. After that, I'll show you some more. I hope you don't mind working up a sweat, because I'll keep upping the pace every time you've gotten used to it. Now, again."
After showing her the basic steps twice more, this time taking her right hand in his and resting his left one on her shoulderblade, he let go. "Good. Now keep repeating those while I watch." He stepped away from her, but not before, almost as an afterthought, he leaned in and muttered conversationally. "And I guess I'll just have to find something else to unwrap if Santa doesn't come through."
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He told her to watch his feet, and she did so, recognizing the movements and committing them to memory. The next words surprised her slightly, as she'd completely forgotten about dinner, but now wasn't the time to worry about it. “I'd be disappointed if I didn't work up a sweat. I want to learn this correctly,” she said firmly, moving her feet in an attempt to imitate the steps he'd demonstrated. The first time it wasn't quite right, but she tried again and again, and gradually it started to feel a little more natural.
She moved with him as he took her hand and demonstrated the steps again, eyes fixed on his feet again. Her mind was completely focused on learning the moves, until his muttered words sent another little shiver down her spine. He couldn't possibly mean... She felt the blush creeping up her cheeks again. She already knew he was a bit of a flirt, but if he was going to tease her she didn't want her reaction to always be blushing and embarrassment. There was no reason to treat the comment any differently than their usual banter. "That isn't the sort of comment that's going to earn naughty boys presents," she chastised, throwing him a smirk before she looked down at her feet and repeated the steps again.
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"In my experience, presents aren't always the most interesting things to unwrap. And by your earlier statement, I'm not getting them either way, so I might as well stay naughty." There was a slight undercurrent of something far less innocent than their playful banter in his voice and he stepped closer as she kept repeating the steps he'd shown her.
"Keep going," he instructed her and put his hand on her lower back, applying a bit of pressure. "Unlike the rumba, you arch your back in this one. If I was in front of you, you'd arch your midsection into me and keep your face turned away." As she followed his instructions, he gradually increased the pressure of his hand until she did an acceptable arch. "Good, now hold that and keep going." He removed his hand, but let it hover just behind her and just as he'd expected, she straightened her back a little after a few more steps. "Ah-ah, keep the arch," he tapped her back with his fingers. "More... Little more... I know it's a strain, but it'll pass. Eventually. Now keep it there. You don't need my hand to keep your posture, do you?"
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And then his hand was on her back, and she nearly jumped at the touch and then chastised herself for being ridiculous. She was a little grateful that he was standing behind her and didn't have a clear look at her face, because she wasn't entirely sure what her expression was revealing. It was getting difficult to ignore her reactions to him. She could admit to herself that he was uncommonly handsome, but that didn't really explain the fact that his hand on her back was making her heart race a little. She shouldn't be reacting this way, and she made a firm vow to simply continue ignoring it and focus on the dancing.
Slowly arching her back under his touch and repeating the moves felt slightly unnatural, but she tried anyway, raising her arms so that she could try to approximate the full stance. “Turn my face away? Like this?” she asked, turning her head to the side and continuing to repeat the basic steps. When he removed his hand she tried to preserve the arch, but a moment later he was tapping her back again, and she returned to the slightly straining position. When he asked if she needed the hand, she replied, “No, I think I've got it.”
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So he did his best to focus on the dancing. It was why they were there after all, and he didn't really mind the opportunity to get to know her better.
He trailed his eyes over her discerningly as she corrected her stance, smiling at her stubbornness to get it right herself. "Not bad for a beginner," he commented, then stepped in front of her. His one hand took hers, the other went to rest on her shoulder blade. With the way the dance was, they ended up being rather closely pressed against each other, but it couldn't really be helped. Not if she wanted to learn. "Now when we start picking up the pace, you'll want to use me for balance, and I you. Especially when I do this," he grinned and turned them both in a fast, small circle, making sure she didn't actually trip, but giving her a taste of how fast she needed to move.
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She grinned a little at the praise and redoubled her efforts to hold the uncomfortable arch. The basic steps were already ingrained in her mind, but she had to focus to keep her body in the proper position. He took her hand and moved into the stance with her, and she resolutely ignored the way a shiver went down her spine at having him so closely pressed against her. “Use you for balance?” she repeated, not quite understanding. It caught her slightly off guard when he turned them in a fast circle, and she very nearly tripped over her own feet. Her grip on him tightened slightly in surprise, but his body pressed against hers was also supporting her. “Ah,” she said, the balance comment making more sense now. “Do that again?”
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He kept to the basic steps, but gradually increased the tempo, just as he'd said he would. Whenever her stance slackened a little, he'd slide his hand down her back and tug her back into the right one.
It was only when they were both more than warmed up and breathless, her more than him, that he paused. "You're getting the hang of it," he noted and leaned on the kitchen counter to take pour them both a glass of water. "How're your feet doing? Sore yet?"
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Jim gradually increased the pace, and she couldn't seem to stop smiling even though it was sometimes hard to keep up. This dance was so different than what they'd done before – it felt as if they were literally running around the room – but she loved feeling a little breathless. She told herself firmly that it was only the exercise that made it difficult to catch her breath; Jim being so close to her had nothing to do with it.
Occasionally her stance slipped, and each time she resolved that she wouldn't let it happen again again. It invariably did, and gradually she accepted that she wouldn't always be able to do everything perfectly the first time. That didn't mean she wasn't going to try.
When he stopped, she took a moment to catch her breath and gratefully accepted the glass of water. “Thank you." She was still grinning even though she was tired. When he asked about her feet, she replied, "Not at all," then considered for a moment and amended her reply. “Well, maybe a little, but it's nothing I can't handle.”
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"I'm sure you can handle a lot more than people give you credit for," he smiled at her and downed the rest of his water. "You don't give up easily. Which is good if you really want to learn. You're going to be feeling it tomorrow, though."
Moving to the fridge, he got out a few things to start on dinner. "But for now, I'm getting hungry. Keep going while I cook, though, you need the practice. Maybe I can show you something else after we eat."
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It was far nicer than it should have been to have someone recognize that she could do more than just wait tables and make coffee. “I don't have a lot of opportunities to do things like this, so I'm not going to waste this one. And if I feel it tomorrow, it'll just remind me that I actually learned something tonight.”
She'd forgotten about dinner, but her stomach suddenly reminded her that she hadn't eaten anything since lunch. She raised a curious eyebrow when he said he was going to make dinner. “You're sure you don't want me to cook? You are giving me free dance lessons, after all.”
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He filled a pot with water and put it on the small stove, then pointed a stern finger at her, humor evident in his eyes. "Don't you dare. You've got dancing to do, so get on with it."
With a wink, he turned back to his cooking, grateful for a break from trying to distract himself from the feeling of her in his arms and the way she looked at him when they danced. It still sent little thrills through him, and it was becoming a problem. That she expected to do something in return for the dance lessons struck him as slightly absurd. He'd offered because he wanted to teach her, because he wanted to keep seeing that smile on her face, so it was hardly a selfless act on his part. "This isn't quid pro quo, Uhura. I'm teaching you because I want to, I don't expect anything in return."
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He forbade her to cook, which just made her laugh. “All right, no more offering to cook when I'm supposed to be dancing,” she replied, finishing the water and setting down the glass. “Can you actually cook, Jim?” she asked, voice teasingly incredulous as she stepped out onto the floor and resumed the quick step position. It felt different without Jim to support her, but she didn't let that stop her from dancing across the room and spinning herself around. She pretended he was still holding her in his arms even though she was dancing alone.
Jim assured her that he was teaching her because he wanted to, but she still felt slightly guilty. She didn't entirely know what to make of his kindness, but it wasn't as if she had anything to teach him in return. “I still wish I could do something for you,” she said quietly, "but thank you."
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With a mischievous grin, he tossed a tomato up in the air and speared it with the knife, then studied it curiously. "Huh. I guess you do."
Going back to his cooking, he glanced over his shoulder at her from time to time. Just to see how she was doing, really. "Alright, if you really want to do something, then promise to dance with me on New Year's, and we'll call it even." It was an innocent enough suggestion, but he couldn't help feeling just a little guilty that she probably didn't know just how much he enjoyed holding her in his arms when they danced. And while he'd never have actual ulterior motives for asking her to dance, he wasn't quite able to deny himself this.
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And that's precisely what she did, letting herself get lost in the music and the steps. She'd already memorized the space, so occasionally she let her eyes drift closed and just moved with the rhythm. It stopped feeling strange to dance alone, though she was still imagining dancing with Jim. The request about New Year's surprised her a little, because it seemed both unbelievably simple and slightly complicated. Her family would be there... but surely there was no real harm in one dance? They wouldn't realize that he'd been teaching her. “All right, I promise,” she replied. "Though I think I'm getting the better end of the deal, because all this means is that I have another chance to dance with you."
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"Funny, that's what I was thinking, too," he muttered and shook his head to clear it and at least try to keep his mind on the right track. She wasn't interested and there was really no point in deluding himself into thinking otherwise. And even if she was, it would only spell trouble for them both to act on it. Maybe it was time to take one of the foxtrot furies up on their offers, just to get it out of his system, though he wasn't sure he was ready to resort to that kind of drastic measures. Once burnt, twice shy and all that.
"It's a deal, then," he said, slightly louder and got out some plates and cutlery to set the table. It was still in the corner, but they'd manage. They weren't done with her lesson yet.
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Jim mumbled that he was thinking the same thing, and she flashed a smile in his direction even though he seemed focused on the cooking. “I'm always happy to dance with you,” she replied, twirling around. It wasn't the same without him to support her, but she was getting accustomed to the movements. “So yes, it's a deal. I'm glad you're coming to the New Year's party. A lot of my family from New Orleans and Philadelphia will be in town. They're going to love your music, though don't be surprised when my aunt tries to tell your fortune."
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On his way back to the kitchen space, she twirled again, and he almost bumped into her. It was close, but he managed to catch her before they both fell over. Once more, he looked into her eyes and seemed to lose himself in them, in the way his arm fit around her waist and how this was a much more intimate position than when they'd danced. Because it wasn't part of a dance. They were so close that all he had to do was lean in and... He sucked in a breath as the timer for his pasta went off. Talk about saved by the bell, he thought wryly and let her go.
"I, uh--" he cleared his throat and focused on draining the pasta. "I was thinking that we could do a couple of songs together at Christmas. If your dad will let you sing at the diner. A few carols, a few more modern ones, stuff that fits the holiday. I don't write stuff like that, and it's usually what people wanna hear, so... If you're up for it too, of course."
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The near collision made her lose her balance, and for a split second she was afraid she'd fall over, but then his arms were around her to hold her steady. The apology she was about to utter died on her lips as her eyes met his. She was instantly lost in the blue of his eyes, in the feel of him so closer to her, and she could neither move nor look away. He seemed almost to be leaning closer, and she was certain she'd even forgotten how to breathe.
The sounds of the timer actually made her jump slightly, and then he was moving away. What just happened?! “I'm sorry,” she managed. “I wasn't watching where I was going.” She forced herself to focus on what he was saying, and not the fact that he'd been so close she could feel his breath against her lips. The idea of singing with him brought the smile back to her face, helped her to focus on something besides the strange moment they'd just had. “I'd love to,” she replied, already excited about the idea. “I'll have to ask my dad, of course, but I think he'll say yes. He likes carols.”
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It was an idea he'd toyed with, and while Uhura's diner was doing relatively well, Jim was sure Mr. Uhura wouldn't mind the extra cash in his till. "We could even talk your old man into doing a late afternoon special with mulled wine and those sticky cinnamon buns. Hot cocoa for the kiddies, refills are half price. What do you think?"
He turned and put the pot he'd mixed the pasta and sauce in on the table, then gestured for her to sit.
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His suggestion made her glance over at him a little curiously. It caught her off guard that he was thinking so much about business strategies for the diner, but she couldn't help smiling in approval. After considering for a moment, she replied, “I like it. Perhaps we could add spiked cider and traditional Kenyan tea to the holiday drink menu. A lot of people in our neighborhood have Kenyan roots, and the tea goes well with cinnamon buns. We should even be able to get it cheaply, since my uncle runs a tea shop."
She sat down, still mulling over the possibilities. “You don't mind being around the diner so much, even over the holidays?”
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He took her plate and served her some pasta before taking some for himself and tried to actually listen to what she was saying. "That's actually what I was thinking too. Only I was thinking we could both sing them. It'd be nice to have some company up on the stage." He picked up his fork and did a little wave in direction of her plate with it. "Dig in. It's not Signor Luciano's but it's eatable."
Her suggestions were good, and he nodded in agreement to them. Mr. Uhura would be wise to listen to his eldest daughter's ideas if this was the kind of thing she came up with. "You should definitely do that, it's a great idea. Mix the different traditions up a little."
After waiting for her to start, he took a bite, chewing it pensively, before casually admitting, "I don't mind. I like it at the diner, and it's not like I have somewhere else I have to be."
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When he suggested that they sing together in the weeks leading up to Christmas, she had to make a concerted effort to reign in her enthusiasm until she had her father's permission. “I'd much rather be singing than waiting tables... If it's only a few songs, my dad might agree, especially if they're Christmas carols.” He complimented her other suggestions, and her smile brightened a little. “I'll talk to him about all this first, if you don't mind.”
She twirled some spaghetti around her fork when he set the plate down in front of her. “Thanks,” she said, taking a bite. One eyebrow canted upwards in mild surprise. “It's good... Is there anything you can't do, Jim?” she asked, expression bemused. She'd definitely worked up an appetite dancing, and she happily took a few more bites.
Something about the overly casual tone of his admission gave her pause, but she certainly wasn't going to press the matter. “Well, we're very happy to have you and your music whenever you have time to be there.”
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He quickly took another bite of food before anything even more damaging could escape him and made sure he chewed slowly to buy himself some time to get his sudden foot-in-mouth disease under control. "Of course I don't mind, it's his business," he shrugged when he'd swallowed his food. And his little pause seemed to have worked because he didn't add that her father would be a fool not to implement the idea. Especially since he had a beautiful daughter with a great voice who'd shine on stage. Once word got out, Jim was sure they'd be packing full houses for the duration.
She complimented his food, and he smiled when he met her eyes again. "Plenty, believe me. I can't draw to save my life, in fact, I'm pretty useless when it comes to anything artistic, though I like going to the occasional museum. I can't keep my mouth shut about things I believe in. I'm also pretty useless at doing laundry which costs me a mint in new t-shirts when I get stains on them, but I'm too stubborn to stop wearing white ones."
There was a boyish grin on his face when he ended his little list of faults and flaws. "Oh, and I've never been able to turn down a challenge or a dare. Which has led to some both terrifically funny and incredibly tragic events."
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She shook her head a little at the next comment. “I just meant that I should talk to him instead of you. I know what his concerns will be, and he's willing to listen to me sometimes.” She knew her father was forward-thinking about a lot of things, including women's rights, but he still believed that to look after her he had to restrict her in a lot of ways. If her mother were alive, things would be different...
She shook off that train of thought and listened with open amusement as he described his faults. Her brow furrowed slightly when he said that his inability to turn down a dare had led to tragic as well as comedic consequences, but she didn't ask about it. Instead she tilted her head as if in thought. “I can actually draw fairly well, and I'm perfectly capable of getting stains out of white shirts,” she said slowly, and then a grin spread across her face. “I can't bowl to save anyone's life, and I'm terrible at shoveling snow, but I've never lost a snow ball fight. I try to keep my mouth shut about things I believe in, but it doesn't always work, and I have a feeling I'm going to get worse and worse at it around you.”
Her smile turned ever so slightly sly as she added, “As for the challenges and dares, I'm afraid we're out of luck, because I've never been any good at turning them down either.”
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