Lighten Up Mr.DeWitt!

It was your favorite past time, dancing. You always had a gift for the art of shuffling around the floor to the music. Most nights down here in Rapture you would twirl across the vinyl floor and dance with anyone whom wanted to. You didn't care if they were a professional or a novice, just dancing brought you so much joy that was contagious to your partners as well. They would often laugh and smile as you stepped to the beat and Lindy-Hopped around.

You were well known for your skills and had acquired a small fame around the Kashmir. People would come to watch you dance around with the patrons or even offer to dance with you for the next song.

But this night was different, as you spun around in place as the song ended, you noticed a man slumped over at the bar with whiskey in his hand. You didn't like seeing people so downtrodden in such a marvelous place like this, so you brushed down your skirt and trotted over to the sorry looking man at the counter.

Upon closer inspection, you noticed it was none other than Rapture's only Private Eye, Booker DeWitt. The man had a knack for getting into trouble from what you had heard and was often seen frequenting the races. Occasionally he would stop by to drink away his losses. A part of you wanted to drag him out onto the floor and dance the night away to relieve his stress like you often did after a long day.

He glanced over at you and forced a friendly smile, you smiled in return and giggled sweetly.

"Why so down?" You asked and cocked your head, leaning on the bar.

Booker ignored your question and downed his whiskey. You pursed your lips and grunted.

"Lose another race?" You persisted, the investigator twitched slightly and looked at you.

"That's none of your business Ms.(Surname)." He scowled, you looked at him in surprise at how he knew your name. Then again, that was his job to know about others.

"Well...Maybe not, but you look awfully stressed Mr.DeWitt. Can I make a suggestion?" You lean closer and rest a hand on his arm, Booker raises a brow, "Dance with me, one little song please?"

"No." He plainly answered and waved his hand to order another drink. You felt your eye twitch in annoyance, such a rude man.

"Please? I promise you'll have fun. You can even let me lead if you're so nervous." You scoot a little closer, the bartender laughs and leans over the counter.

"Yeah what've ya ta lose DeWitt?" The bartender laughs louder and slaps the aggravated investigator on the shoulder, "I'll even give ya a free drink if ya do." Booker seemed to like the sound of that as he straightened himself up and pushed himself off the stool and offered his hand out to you.

"Let's just get this over with." He grumbled and you took his rough hand as he led you out onto the dance floor where several other couples were swinging to the beat.

You grabbed his other hand and began to shuffle side to side in time with the upbeat music with a smile on your lips as Booker maintained his regular hardened scowl, "Do you know how to swing?" You asked and rocked back on your heel.

Booker shrugged and grunted, obviously not caring for the situation. You huffed and did your best to keep smiling, even if your partner was being a real downer. Then you got an idea.

"And spin~" You giggled and forced your hand up and around as you twirled the investigator away from you, making him stumble and cry out in surprise. A loud laugh erupted from the crowd as Booker regained his balance and sneered at you.

"C'mon mister Booker DeWitt, lighten up and get light on your feet!" You saw a spark ignite behind his forest-green eyes and his lips purse in determination as he switched his hands from following to leading. You smiled brighter and knew that you had him.

The band set up for their next piece and began to play the famous song "In the Mood". You swung side to side and rocked back and forth. Booker pressed his leading arm forward and you spun out quickly before spinning back into his arms. The pace picked up and before you knew it he had you by the shoulders then slid away and turned on a heel. You both rejoined hands and continued the basic shuffle.

"I didn't know you could dance Mr. DeWitt." You laughed as he twirled you one...two...three times.

"There's a lot you don't know." He responded, sounding a little more upbeat than before. By the way the two of you were now dancing, you could tell that he was becoming more and more relaxed, which was what you wanted.

With another press of the hand, you slid away then spun into his chest. Booker lightly placed his hand on your side and the two of you rocked side to side, the soles of your feet tapping out the beat. You looked up at the investigator to see the hints of a smile breaking his normal scowl making you smile again and laugh.

"What's so funny?" He asked, a soft laugh in his voice. You shook your head and kept smiling before hopping away from his hold and kicking your feet in time with his.

That night passed quickly, with Booker forgetting his troubles, and his free drink.

(line)

"That was...nice." Booker commented as you pulled on your jacket.

"I knew you'd like it." You giggled and flashed a grin.

The investigator smiled and held the door for you as the two of you left the premises. You thanked him and waltzed out with him following you.

"Yes? Can I help you?" You asked.

"Just...wondering if I could walk you home? With all those Splicer attacks and what not." Booker scratched the back of his head and chuckled nervously.

"Why of course you can." You linked your arm in his and slowly walked to the residential part of Rapture, in no real hurry to leave Booker's side any time soon.

As the two of you walked, you made idle conversation about nothing in particular. You learned that he could play guitar (in which you insisted that he play something for you) and that he learned to dance from an old friend of his. You told him how you loved to dance ("If it wasn't obvious already" he laughed), how you wanted to be an author at some point, and that you were working on a story.

"Really?" He asked, "I'd like to read it."

"Only if you play for me." You smiled.

"Deal."

Before you knew it, you were at the door step of the apartment complex, hands loosely intertwined.

"Well, thanks again Ms. (Surname)." Booker smiled slightly.

"(Name), just call me (Name). And it was no problem, as long as you had fun." You squeezed his fingers.

"I did..." He looked around as if he wanted to say something else.

"We can dance tomorrow night if you like?" You inquired.

"I...I'd like that."

"Tomorrow then."

Booker nodded and stood there awkwardly before tightening his grip and leaning forward. Your face grew hot as he pressed his worn lips to your burning cheek and smiled. He bid you a small "good night" and was on his way, leaving you stunned on the doorstep.

A goofy smile appeared on your lips as you lightly touched the tomato red cheek.

Now you really couldn't wait to go dancing tomorrow night.