Random Stories

Dancing On Light (Complex)

Maggie Provost loved the music of the world. The regal, sweeping orchestra of the sky, the piccolo of a robin redbreast, and the trickling flute of a stream. But even more, she lived for the winter music. The piccolo silent, and flute quieted. The harsh keyboard of a city smoothed into a thoughtful piano by frozen flakes of hope. Her feet followed the tune, and she gave up all the heavy obligations of society as she twirled along Paris boulevards, waltzed along the thoroughfares of New York, and finished with a sweeping curtsy in Berlin. People must have watched her, but for now she didn't care. Let them watch. Let them see their hero, the great Spectrum, dancing through the snow to a melody only she could hear. The thought dampened her enthusiasm, and she plopped down on a bench between Boston and St. Paul.

Why did it always come back to hero work? Couldn't she ever go back to being the Maggie she used to be, the one who could walk through light instead of into it, the Maggie that no one expected so much of? Power was a blessing and a curse, she mused as she pulled on gloves that had been placed in her pocket earlier when she had need to feel the air. If only one could turn them off, turn off the hero with a switch.

She shook her head, dismissing the thought. Better to focus on the music of winter. She stood a curtsy a mere taste away when a small buzz filled her senses. A mirage only she could see appeared before her, a mirage of another Spectacular. The mirage winked at her. "Hey, gorgeous." Maggie ignored the obvious flirting. "What is it, Relativity?" The mirage waved a hand, as if to dismiss a fly. "Nothing much. Phase has just been spotted near you, on the roofs of Quebec. Pretty sure that 60th connects with the street you're on, so get there and you should find Canada. Adios, mi amor!" He disappeared, and Maggie rolled her eyes as she pulled her ponytail up with her signature beaded hairband. "That's French and Spanish, moron." She muttered, pulling out a flashlight and setting it bulb up on the ground. She flicked it on, and grabbed the beam, sighing. Time to become the hero again.

She pulled herself adroitly up the solid beam of light, grateful again for the specially textured gloves that the otherwise annoying Relativity had given her. Otherwise, the light would be slick and smooth as glass. Once level with the building nearest her, she jumped and just caught the edge. Standing, she surveyed the roofs around her until she spotted the ones that looked Canadian. After a while, you begin to be able to tell them apart. Leaving her flashlight in Minnesota, she kept from rooftop to rooftop until she could see the villain she had been warned about. Hiding behind a vent and peeking out, she decided to do surveillance before engaging.

The colorless boy was simply standing there, staring off toward the North. Maggie shivered, both from cold and a twinge of fearful excitement. She crept a few more inches forward, ready to engage with the stock-still figure. But then something caught her eyes.

A tear.

A tear trickling down the face of the most heartless person she knew. Phase squeezed his eyes shut, another drop of sadness slipping down his usually impassive face. Maggie's breath caught silently and she watched with shock as her world turned upside down. The villain's arm went up, the other arm around. Hand clasped with air, posture precise. Dance position with a memory. Spectrum's hand went up to her mouth as the fearsome enemy started to waltz gracefully across the roof. Box, progressive, streamline, box, underarm turn. Turning box, another turn. But this time, a hand caught his and went under. His eyes opened in surprise as his enemy, the hero Spectrum, took up dance position with her hand in his and the other on his shoulder. Blue eyes met gray with almost a challenge. Phase froze up, not knowing what to do.

"The man leads."

Spectrum whispered, almost hopefully. He blinked a few times to clear away his tears, then nodded. Hand on back. Fingers curled around fingers. Forward, side, together. Back, side, together. And then the dancing was not so stilted as the two swept across the rooftop like they had been dancing together forever. Snow fluttered out of the way to watch, and the whole world seemed to hold its breath. One last turn, a spin and presentation to the unseen audience, a curtsy and a bow. Then they broke apart, almost not believing themselves what had just happened.

They flushed and looked away from each other. Phase sat on the edge of the rooftop, head in hands. Spectrum settled in the snow next to him. "Who was she?" Her voice was almost reverant.

"My sister."

"What happe-"

"She died."

"Oh."

"Murdered."

"You miss her?"

"Every day."

Hand on hand.

"I'm so sorry."

"...Thank you."

"You danced with her?"

"Every time I visited."

"She was good?"

"The best."

"What was her name?"

"Keisha."

"..."

"...."

"Do you want to dance?"

"...Very much."

"For Keisha?"

"For Keisha."