Stark Lost

Eight: One Dance

Pepper dragged Tony downstairs to work on one of his cars immediately after dinner.  This time I knew what her purpose for leaving me alone with Steve was.  She was trying to play matchmaker!  Ridiculous woman, thinking she could ever convince a man to fall for a brainiac woman like me by forcing us to spend so much time alone together.  I don’t do people very well.  I’m not nearly as social as my father.

Outside, the weather wasn’t letting up any.  I sat by a window, watching the rain drown what little grass was there.  A couple of squirrels were unfortunate enough to get caught in the storm and struggled to race towards the safety of the trees.

But watching nature was not one of my favorite pastimes.  I was growing more bored by the minute.  Steve was thoroughly being entertained by whatever shows Jarvis had been flipping through to create scenes from classic movies, currently Casablanca. 

I stared at Steve.  “Have you ever heard Elvis?  No, he was after the forties… I’ll introduce you to the King of Rock!  Should help pass some time.”

He watched me, amusement written across his face.  “Elvis…Presley, I believe?  I’ve heard of him but haven’t had the time to look into him just yet.”

“He was only the greatest musician of all time!  Next to Michael Jackson and, arguably, Madonna, of course, but those two came decades later.”  I picked a good, slow song and beckoned for him to come towards me.  He didn’t move from the couch.  I groaned and pulled on his hand until he stood.  “I’ll teach you how to dance, while we’re at it.”

“No, it’s okay, really-“

“I insist.”  He met my eyes and gave in.  “Good boy.  Now, put one hand on my waist and the other in my right hand.  This is a slow song, so the moves are simple.  Move back and forth, while turning slowly.  If you wanna get fancy, we can do a quick-step of sorts every- ouch!”

He let go of me immediately.  “I’m sorry!  I told you I shouldn’t dance!”

“No, you’re fine!  You think you’re the first man to ever step on my feet?” I asked.

“I – sorry – no –uh – I – we should get to bed,” he stuttered. 

I smiled softly.  “No.  Not until I get you to dance with me.  Besides, it’s hardly seven!”

He sighed.  “One dance.  And then it’s bedtime.”

I grinned. “Yes, sir!  I’ll make sure grandpa gets some rest for his creaky bones.”

We stood up again, returning to the proper dancing position.  We started to slowly revolve, barely moving at all.  I smiled at him.

“See, Steve?  You can dance!”

“I’m hardly moving.”

“Still counts.”

We made maybe two full circles before the song ended.  The moment it did, he dropped my hands and fell back onto the couch.  I sat next to him, a smile on my face.  The TV was still going, but barely audible.  The theme song of a show caught my attention: M*A*S*H.  How appropriate for the patriot sitting beside me!

“Ooh, have you seen this yet?” I exclaimed.

His head snapped up.  “No.  What is it?”

“It’s M*A*S*H!  It’s a TV show from the seventies – it’s really good!  It’s about the Korean War… I think you’ll really like it!  They’re on the front lines, but they’re a medical unit – the 4077.  That guy right there, played by Alan Alda, he’s the best surgeon they have, but he’s really snippy and witty and always has something to say!  Then there’s his buddy Honeycutt, who… why are you smiling?”