More Star and Hero. In which Danny is basically me when it comes to dancing, except I never got up the nerve to learn to lead when I took dance classes with the 50+es.
Anyway, onto the story.
It wasn’t the sort of place I expected to find myself face to face with Detective Danny H. Marsh. She looked equally surprised to see me. No doubt I hadn’t struck her as the type of woman who frequented marginally shady night clubs. She also seemed surprised to see that I was not alone.
Gabi, the daughter of Rush–one of our most trusted human caretakers–had wanted to go out; Rush and her mother, Rosario, had wanted to say no, but I’d volunteered to accompany her. There was no arguing about that from any of them. They knew Gabi would be safe with me, and Gabi knew I would still let her manage to have some actual fun. Minus alcohol, because while I had no qualms with taking a twenty-year-old to a club, I was not going to let her get intoxicated. Not there, anyway.
And now we’d run into the intriguing Detective Marsh, who was leaning against the wall near the dance floor, nursing a half-consumed bottle of water. It was intriguing to see a slightly dressed-down version of her. She wore dark jeans, those same sensible boots, and a light blue striped shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Her eyes went from me to Gabi–who at six feet rivalled Rush for height–and back to me.
“Detective!” I said with a smile, leaning in closer to make myself heard above the music. “I can’t say I expected to meet you here.”
Danny shifted her weight from one foot to the other, squeezing the water bottle slightly as she did so. “Have’ta say I’m surprised to see you, too.” She paused for a moment, eyes flicking up to Gabi again. “And please, just Danny’s fine, as much as we keep…bumping into each other.”
I offered her a smile. I could almost feel Gabi smirking above us. No doubt she had picked up on my interest in the detective; it was a hazard of her having been raised around vampires–she could read most of us like books, and never let us forget that fact. “So this is Danny,” she said. A flicker of surprise registered on Danny’s face a second before Gabi reached out to shake her hand. “I’m Gabi. And no, I’m not her girlfriend. She’s like…an older sister or a youngish aunt.”
Danny looked like she wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or, as the saying goes, “busted.”
“Um, thanks. For that,” she said, extracting her hand from Gabi’s. “I wasn’t going to ask, but…” She trailed off, glancing back at me. “So what brings you here?”
“This one,” I said, nudging Gabi, “wanted a night out, and I’m tagging along so she’s not on her own.” Danny seemed relieved to hear the explanation.
“I’m kind of doing the same,” she said. She held up and shook the bottle of water. “I’m tonight’s designated driver.”
I grinned at her and leaned in a little closer. “Does that also keep you from the dance floor?”
Danny shrugged, looking slightly uncomfortable. “I’m not really good at dancing to most of what they’re playing tonight.”
“Would you dance with me if I convinced the DJ to play something…more your speed?” The look on Danny’s face was definitely worth it–managing to ruffle the detective seemed to result in her making adorable, if slightly confused, faces. “You can manage a slow dance, yes?”
“It’s been a while, but yeah, I can manage a slow dance without making a fool out of myself.” Still she looked half afraid that she might do exactly that.
I tugged Gabi down and whispered the song I had in mind in her ear. She looked from Danny to be and gave out a decidedly unladylike laugh–another thing besides her height that marked her as Rush’s daughter. Danny looked a little like a deer caught in the headlights; I rolled my eyes and swatted Gabi’s arm. “Go. Bribe the DJ if you have to, but get him to play that song next.”
Gabi left us, laughing again as she went. Danny downed the rest of her water and threw the bottle away. She ran a hand through her hair and looked at me. “Should I be worried?”
“Not in this case,” I said, smiling. I took her hand and led her toward the dance floor, just onto the edge at first, until the current song ended. The music swelled, and I rested a hand on Danny’s shoulder. Her right hand immediately came to rest, gently but firmly, just below my shoulder blade. A sign of a decent lead, which made me wonder if she didn’t have at least a little ballroom training. I would have to look into that more later.
She raised her eyebrows slightly at my song selection, but eased into the rhythm of the music almost effortlessly. She had said it had been a while since she had danced. Admittedly, it had been some time since I had danced like this as well. We glided effortlessly along in our little corner of the dance floor. Thankfully no one bumped into us. If they had, I would have been sorely tempted to throttle them for interrupting a rather delightful moment.
When the song came to an end, Danny didn’t let go of my hand. She took a deep breath, glanced away for a moment, then looked back at me.
“So…was that…” She took another breath. “Sorry, I’m not good at this. Was there some kind of flirtation involved in that song choice? Because the lyrics are–”
I cut her off by laying a finger against her lips. “If you’re asking if that was my way of asking you on a date, Danny H. Marsh, then you would be correct.”
Danny grinned slowly, and looked like she was half tempted to duck her head or look away for a moment. “Okay. Good. I was hoping that it meant something.” She gave my hand a squeeze, and we began walking off the dance floor. “I’m not always good at telling when something like that means something and when it doesn’t.”
I cupped her cheek gently with my free hand, and for a moment I was afraid I’d somehow short circuited her. She relaxed after a moment, however, and I smiled. “In that case, I’ll be sure to make my feelings obvious.”
Kirkwall Was Totally Built On a Hellmouth 
