Snapdragons

A Strange Dance

Late 1800s in an ever-evolving atmosphere. Lights dangled from great heights, mesmerizingly framing the grandness of the scene. Alistair stood at the edge of the slightly lower brick circle in which a couple's dance took place.

A good dozen pairs twirled around, hand in hand, feet stepping around each other in nail-biting proximity. Bright red and bronze dresses twirling and suit tails rippling through warm night air, you might think this stately sight was one joyful, carnival night to behold...and it was. Except for the fact that twenty-three year old forensics scientist, Alistair Fairfax, was staring right at his arch nemesis from across the dazzling night and ring of bright.

Twenty-five year old Edwin Deighton was a detective who somehow always got assigned the same cases as Alistair. However, it would be far too much work to explain the backstory now.

Edwin had his eyes fixed right on Alistair's, even as he pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, slid it between his lips and struck a match so close to himself that most would have done a double take to make sure he wasn't being consumed by flames. His dark brown locks of hair shone a rust auburn as his crooked smile disappeared partially with the flick of the match.

Alistair had learned to look as unamused as possible, as to not erupt any more fire in the enemy's pupils. Though, as music trembled between their shared gaze, he couldn't help the twitch that tugged on his lips, either wanting him to break under the pressure with a cry or a smile. Both would be unacceptable under the circumstances.

Eventually, Deighton turned on his heel and was eaten by the crowd. But that wasn't the last of him for the night.

The current song had ended and a new beat picked up, another organ piece so nostalgic that you could practically feel each caress of the musicians hands on the ivory keys. Alistair had allowed his body to relax. He pushed away a few annoying strands of purplish black hair from slightly sweaty skin that glowed a lustrous tan in the illuminated breeze. He let a sigh escape his lips and briefly shut his eyes before hearing a firm stomp.

Slowly glancing down at the wobbling smoke spewing from a smashed cigarette, he got a clear view of ashes dispersed over brick patterns engraved on the solid ground. The young scientist didn't know whether to look up or just turn and walk away as quickly as possible, but he willed himself to start raising his gaze up polished shoes, crisp pant legs, and a rather nicely ironed coat for such a loose dress shirt that lay underneath.

Before him stood Edwin Deighton, yet not from across a 30 foot circle. Right before him. And, as the organ music ended abruptly, he slid his hand out of his pocket and posed it as if he expected Alistair to return the gesture.

"May I have this next dance?"

Several people peered at them, surprised and confused. Couples shifted out of the ring and were replaced by new pairs, ready for the music to begin. Alistair couldn't help but turn a bit red in embarrassment and frustration. Yet his words were cool and collected.

"Is this a joke?"

No response but Deighton's look was deadly serious. So, not having much time and not knowing what would happen if he declined, or accepted, Alistair reluctantly reached up and let his fingers settle on Edwin's.

At that moment, you could practically feel the gossip expanding through the crowd. Gasps rose along with some laughter. They would look odd among the swirl of radiant gowns, but young Fairfax allowed himself to be led towards the center of attention. There were no written rules about who could dance...and he just had to figure out exactly what Edwin's plan was.

He was either going to get killed or he was going to get killed. There was no other reason for such a festive swing with such a suspicious man.

Alistair automatically took what was normally the women's position, as he was the one who accepted the offer. Edwin intertwined their fingers and lined them up with everyone else.

He looks happy to finally be finishing me.

Weird glances and disgusted glares were shot at them. The music commenced, ringing off the organ's keys with joyful grandness. The dance started fairly slow, so it wasn't hard for Alistair to follow the steps around without tripping. His nemesis was actually a rather great dance partner, swaying them around easily and neatly. Though things went awry as the music sped up.

Edwin smirked as he spun them around wildly. When it came time for all the ladies to do an elegant spin and get pulled back to their partner, Alistair was forced into double the rotation. Carousels and bright neon lights blurred past his vision, making him dizzy and disoriented. He was shoved back inward, almost pushing his companion backward.

Deighton was trying to burn him out, make him so dazed and perplexed that he would become easy prey. But, as Alistair nearly collapsed several times and the audience somehow still watched with wonder, something glossy reflected in the detective's pocket. Some sort of weapon lay under folds of fabric, waiting to be grasped and thrusted through the chest of an enemy. Alistair was no spring chicken to the world of crime and his quick thinking was about to save him.

Though fatigued and wondering why the dagger was so blatantly visible, as the two turned in a circle, wrists delicately twisting around each other, Alistair quickly reached his other hand into his partner's pocket, took out the sharp knife, and slipped it in his own coat just as fast as he had removed it. Edwin must have felt the dagger being seized and spun Alistair around again, shoving his hands back to his waist, trying to grab the weapon.

Everyone saw them fighting, yet no one seemed to have seen what they were fighting over. As the music slowed down, coming toward an end, Alistair took out the dagger. Edwin tried grabbing it again...but the last notes fluttered out and Fairfax forced them into a dip, lifting the knife high in the air, swinging down with his body, and dropping it with a clatter covered by the thunder of organ notes. Some saw the weapon, but with the music covering the clattering crash, it could have been worse.

Alistair Fairfax had just danced with his sworn enemy and almost been killed, yet the only words he had been able to mutter out the entire time were "This is quite scandalous, huh, dear?" In his best teasing tone.

~~~

"Come now, Theo. I don't want to miss the ballet performance."

"Hold on, Sylvia. I believe...that's my...ha! That's my nephew. Look at that."

"What...where?"

"Where do you think?"

"Dancing with that other gentleman?"

"Yes, that's him."

"Wow. Are they...fighting?"

Miss Theophania Endicott, a lively 27 year old aristocrat, was brought along to the carnival with her friend, Sylvia, to see a "once in a lifetime" ballet. She had no idea that she was going to recognize her nephew, Edwin Deighton, amongst the crowd of fancily dressed strangers. But, just as always, he seemed to be up to something odd.

"Oh, Edwin. What have you let yourself get into this time?"

Theophania had told Sylvia to head to the ballet without her, promising that she would find her in the crowd and enjoy the show as soon as possible.

As soon as the dance was finished, Theophania watched as the other gentleman confusedly left the area before quickly catching Edwin. He looked offended briefly, to be grabbed and brought to a halt. But underneath the fleeting offense there was an upset quality. He immediately softened with realization.

"Theophania?"

"Yes, hello. What in the hell was that?"

Edwin wore a blank expression. He turned to further leave the scene (as there was still a weapon laying for all to see if they wished) but allowed Theophania to chase after him. They walked for minutes before finally coming to a stop outside of the carnival fantasy and out in the dirty city streets. Edwin hailed a carriage.

"Did your father make you do this?"

The question was met with silence. At first.

"I could still never do what he proposed."

And, at that, he gave a departing look and clambered into the carriage. A clock tower marked midnight in the distance.

"Goodbye, Theo."

"It was nice seeing you."

And so Miss Endicott attended the once in a lifetime ballet.