You can dance
Author: wanderingsmith
May 13, 2016
Summary: The ice-calm voice and
throwing knife suddenly pointed at his dance
partner from over his shoulder were
unmistakably familiar and Barney would have
shaken his head in amusement if that sharp
blade wasn't quite so close.
slightly cracky
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and
nobody'd be daft enough to pay me for this. As
it is thought, so let it be said; you make the
toys, I play with 'em..
AN: Another that was written probably
a year ago and just isn't getting longer.
I know it feels like they're OOC on the
edges... so.. take it in good fun, yeah?
Lee went to get fresh beers and get
away from the weird vibe he was getting off Gunner
as the crazy Swede kept sending Expendables out to
dance with the crazy Spaniard who'd attached
himself to the team. Seriously, who did the man
think was going to judge? If Gunner wanted to
dance with Galgo, he hardly needed to go through
this rigmarole.
Frowning unseeing at the bar's counter as he
waited for the drinks, he decided he was going to
have to pull a Barney and have a 'talk' with
Gunner when he got back to the table. Not right he
should think he couldn't be himself with his
teammates.
Then he'd have a talk with *Barney* for missing
his cue to take care of the emotional needs of his
team. Lee Christmas was *not* the team's
counsellor, for fuck's sake!
Halfway back to the table, his eyes automatically
took stock of the occupants. Locating both Gunner
for his chat, and Barney's jacket. And Lee's chair
next to it, still empty. Good. Damn kids had
learned quick; Doc: not so much.
"Galgo, *no*. Hands *here*...... *Galgo*."
By the second repeat of the Spaniard's name, Lee's
eyes had zoomed in on Barney's twitching shoulders
in the crowd.
Barney was silently swearing, and debating where
and how hard he could hit Galgo without doing
*entirely* permanent damage; 'cause no fucking way
was he was dealing with hands for more than 5.
More. Sec-
"Hands *off*, Galgo, or I'll take 'em off
*permanently*."
The ice-calm voice and throwing knife suddenly
pointed at his dance partner from over his
shoulder were unmistakably familiar and Barney
would have shaken his head in amusement if that
sharp blade wasn't quite so close. "Christmas-"
"Mister Christmas-"
"Shut up, Galgo, just let him go and go convince
Gunner to stop being a stupid fuck and just dance
with you. Otherwise go find someone else who
*wants* to 'dance'."
Between Lee's words and watching the weird mix of
emotions crossing Galgo's face, Barney suddenly
had an idea of just what the fuck the evening's
nonsensical theatre had been about. And he was
definitely going to have to have a talk with
Gunner. Once that man got an idea in his head,
he'd gnaw it like a fucking bone if it wasn't
derailed.
"Barney?"
He turned to meet Lee's curious look with a wry
smirk, "Yeah?"
"Didn't think the guy could actually do damage,
but you're reacting a bit slow."
Barney snorted at the implication in Lee's teasing
grin, "Fuck off, Christmas. Was trying to figure
what to do about Gunner."
He watched his old pal look around with a frown
like he'd lost track of something, then look back
at Barney with a shrug, "Just tell him none of
us'll judge 'im for hooking up with a guy. Though
you might want to have a chat with the kids to
shut them up ahead of time. I'm more worried that
it looks like our beers got stolen whole I rescued
you from Handsy."
Barney didn't have time to catch his brief guffaw
at the image, "*Handsy*??"
That got him one of Lee's full grins, "You looked
like you were wrestling with a hydra rather than
dancing."
"Hydra?"
Lee's smile softened, "Greek mythical creature
with a shitload of snaky arms."
Barney shook his head, old familiar surge of
affection sending his arm around Lee's shoulders
in what already felt natural after just a few
repeats. Most people, he couldn't care less what
the crazy words they used meant. Lee, he actually
enjoyed listening to the explanation. No matter
how crazy. Made him feel like they were at his
place, sitting back with snifters of something
Scottish (and unpronounceable) and picking at each
other over anything and everything.
"How'd he get you out here, anyway?"
He'd been about to aim them at the bar to replace
the lost drinks, but the intimation nipped his
pride a tiny bit. "Let me guess, you think I can't
dance?" It was more rag than question; Lee must
have seen him dance at some point over the years.
Trying to shove the bad idea poking at him back of
his brain back in its box, he was only half aware
of the frown Lee threw him, "No. I think you don't
*like* to dance."
For some reason, that drew him up short and he
stopped moving. There was a voice at the back of
his head saying Lee was right, he *didn't*.. but
there was another, closer by, that said that to
ears that knew him as well as Barney did, Lee
sounded very faintly wistful.
Lee was looking at him in surprise for jerking
them to a stop halfway through the crowd to the
barkeep, "What?"
Hell, what could it hurt? *Lee*'d been making
statements about Gunner and Galgo.. "I don't like
to dance alone in public and I certainly can't be
bothered to invite a stranger to dance. And I
won't be letting Galgo within reach this decade. I
do *not*, as a matter of fact, mind dancing." He
stared at Lee for a minute, thinking of the edge
in his voice when he'd scared off Galgo. He was
used to accepting the jealousy when people pulled
Barney's attention at work, but that.. That had
been personal. He kept his face as casual as he
could and nodded at the half-full dance floor, "If
you promise to keep your hands where they belong,
you want to take a spin?"
Wasn't often he got to shock Lee.
Lee knew that self-satisfied grin was for making
him gawk like a cadet, but there'd been no way he
could help the surprise. He really didn't think
Barney would willingly dance...
He finally got himself under control enough to
grin back. "Who decides where they belong?" he was
already sneaking his arm to Barney's back to guide
him to the open area as he spoke, half an ear to
catch the music playing and hoping it was
something easy. *He* sure as fuck didn't enjoy
dancing, but hell if he'd turn down a challenge.
Or turn down Barney if he actually enjoyed
dancing. Man didn't do near enough shit just for
the sake of enjoyment.
Other than the enjoyment of shooting shit up, of
course. Or beating the crap of bastards. But the
pain generally involved in those things kinda made
him want Barney to have some more pleasant
pastimes.
"I take it you're going to insist on leading?"
"Leading?"
Barney blinked at him, "Yeah, leading. Picking
target, direction, speed?"
Their discussion notwithstanding, Barney's hands
finally landed in Lee's hand and on his shoulder
and he took a step with the slow country song
playing.
"Why exactly do you think that?"
"...Because you put your hands in lead position?
And are," Barney's hand, held in his, waved.
"Leading us?"
Lee just stared at him blankly, turning them to
avoid another couple, then looking where Barney's
hands were and thinking about it. "So for you to
lead I'd have to move my hands?"
Barney chuckled low, smiling with clear affection
that it made Lee's day to see. "You'd also have to
*let* me lead."
Feeling oddly at ease, Lee tugged them closer with
the next step, clumsy with his partner's eyes
level with his; with staring at Barney's eyes so
close. "When have I *not* let you lead?"
It was damned rare that he saw Barney actually
laugh; and never from this close. Never saw the
pleasure glow in his eyes before it pulled the
rest of his face into a wide grin without a hint
of sarcasm; just plain old joy. Even his voice
sounded different so close: deeper, even rougher
than usual, more uneven.
It was probably a good thing he wasn't usually so
close. And a good thing his hands were currently
busy. Because wanting to kiss him when he was like
this, calm and cheerful and.. *happy*, this
*wasn't* new. Was still as strong and unexpected
as the first time he'd felt it. But was not new.
Instead, he kept staring and he kept smiling. And
depended on familiarity keeping Barney from
reading what he felt.
And they danced.
Barney's temple came to rest against Lee's when he
was done with the last of the snickers that Lee
didn't bother asking an explanation for. He just
kept them stepping and swaying through a couple of
quiet songs.
"You're not bad for someone who didn't even know
he was leading."
Lee huffed, barely resisting the urge to raise his
right hand an inch to a spot he knew he could
pinch and get the man to *almost* squeal. It'd
probably result in a *real* wrestling match. And
he was kinda enjoying this weird, undemanding
closeness. "I think you're better at this than
anyone else that's dragged me to dance floors. You
say I'm leading, but you're already moving before
I have to make you."
He felt the choked laugh against his chest as well
as heard it. "You're not supposed to have to
*make* the person move. Your hands tell me where
you want me without any manhandling required."
Uh. Out of curiosity, he deliberately focused on
NOT doing *anything* with his hands.. and Barney
tripped over Lee's feet, shaking his head without
a word as Lee kept him from falling and stopped
freezing his hands.
And they went back to stepping around the floor,
Lee aware, this time, of how alike it was to the
battlefield: step and step, hands instead of eyes
exchanging unconscious signals, step and circle
and meet again. If there weren't others around
whose movements he couldn't predict, he could
close his eyes and circle the room without ever
worrying about hitting anything...
Keep feeling the warm body in his arms, flexing
and moving with him. Let himself enjoy the way
Barney's eyes had closed and their foreheads just
leaned together; too intimate, really, but if
Barney was good with it, no one else would really
dare give the two of *them* trouble.
When another slow song started, Lee found himself
curious enough to ask, "If you show me how, you
can lead if you want."
He watched Barney's eyes slowly open and focus on
him, looking faintly amused, "If you want." He
rearranged their hands, Lee trying to make himself
stay still and let himself be shifted.
Then Barney looked at him steadily, starting to
sway, only slightly at first, Lee feeling himself
stiff and out of the sync they'd had. "Close your
eyes," once Lee did as ordered, still stiff, his
voice softened, slowed to almost the beat of the
music, "Come on Lee, trust me. That's it. Just
shut your brain off. Feel my body and follow what
it says. You already know how to dance and you
know how I move. Just let your body put it
together without your brain. And trust me."
Lee couldn't stop a grunt at that last, but Barney
kept repeating himself, on and off, and Lee
finally felt himself start to relax.
They managed to step slowly around for a bit, but
then Lee frowned, "The hell's wrong with your
leg?"
"Um?"
"You said feel your body. Well your body flinches
every time you step back," his eyes opened to
glare, "You didn't say you hurt your leg!"
The quiet ease on Barney's face shifted into
exasperation as he grumbled, "It's just bruised."
Lee pulled back to run his eyes up and down the
moron's body, knowing he wouldn't *see* anything,
"If you got knifed-"
Barney's arms let go of Lee to jerk in defence, "I
*didn't* get knifed!"
Ignoring the words, Lee grabbed one of the arms
and started tugging him across the dance floor,
muttering under his breath. Knowing he was
overreacting. But he was still annoyed at Barney
and his patience just wasn't up to its usual. And
neither was his trust in the man's missing sense.
"Where the hell are we going, Christmas??"
He sent another glare at the man, "Restrooms.
Since you didn't just admit to it when it
happened."
Barney snorted, smirking at him, the lack of more
resistance giving Lee hope he actually *wasn't*
hurt bad, "Expecting a man to drop his pants after
just a dance? Kinda rude, Christmas."
It took a couple heartbeats, but Lee finally felt
his shoulders relax enough that he leered back,
"That was more than *one* dance."
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