Chapter Text
Tim should know better than to make bets with Angela, and even more bets that he will definitely lose, because now he is standing at the door of a dance studio, of all places, to start his first evening class.
He'd rather do Angela's year worth of paperwork than be here.
Tim could lie and say he went to the class even if he didn't, but Angela, being his best friend for close to a decade and an excellent detective, would figure it out sooner than later. And besides, she's waiting for him in his truck right outside the studio like an overbearing mother, so there's really no way to escape. As if sensing his hesitation, when he turns to look at the truck while he considers leaving, he sees Angela give him a thumbs up with a teasing smile through the windshield.
She just wants to help, Tim knows. She wants for him to have a healthy distraction from the mess that was his divorce some months ago. He just wished she'd picked something different.
He turns again to his truck, finding Angela's smile taking a menacing edge now as she holds the phone to her ear. As if on cue, his phone vibrates in his pocket. He doesn't need to know who's calling before he picks up.
"Do I have to go up there and get your ass inside the studio, or are you going to put your big boy pants on and go in yourself?"
Tim just sighs, knowing she's very capable of dragging him by the ear if necessary. "I'm going, mom."
The curse words Angela uses in Spanish are enough to finally get his feet moving and enter the studio.
------
Miss Chen– or Lucy, as she insists on being called– is not what Tim had expected his dance instructor to be at all. When he signed up for the class a couple days ago, he pictured someone like Mrs. Komar– his younger sister's old ballet instructor from back when she was around eight years old. Mrs. Komar was a grouchy and petite woman in her seventies who wore her hair in a definitely headache-inducing tight bun and had a collection of burgundy shawls. She could kill you with a look and used a cane to walk that she loved to hit against the wood floor every time one of the girls wasn't doing something the right way, making Tim jump out of his seat everytime it was his turn to take Genny to class.
Lucy, on the other hand, isn't any of that.
She is much younger, for starters, in her late twenties or just about thirty if Tim has to guess. From what he can see in the way she taught the class before his, she's the opposite of grouchy, all smiles and enthusiastic energy as she directs everyone through the steps of a dance routine, gently but firmly correcting stances, giving constructive criticism and encouraging people to go out of their comfort zone. Lucy wears her dark hair in a tight bun just like Mrs. Komar, but there's a couple strands of hair falling from it, framing her face, a different kind of perfection to her, more relaxed. Her dance clothes are different too, leggings that hug her curves and toned legs and a loose graphic shirt that says "don't worry, just dance".
If she weren't his dance instructor, and if Angela hadn't forced him into this situation in the first place, Tim could readily admit that Lucy is gorgeous. If someone ever asks for his opinion, that is.
Soon enough, the lesson ends and Lucy approaches him, her brown eyes shining as she gives him a welcoming smile. Tim thinks that maybe just gorgeous is an understatement.
Tim hastily stands up from the bench as she stops in front of him, extending her hand towards him.
"Hi, you must be our new student. Tam told me about you," she says, her voice just as friendly as her smile is.
Friendly and bright, blindingly so, enough to throw him off balance for a second.
"Uh, yeah," Tim scrambles to say, extending his hand towards her. "Name's Bradford. Tim Bradford."
Lucy shakes his hand, a strong grip from her smaller one before letting go.
"Nice to meet you, Tim. I'm Lucy Chen, owner of Nova's Dance studio, and also your instructor. You signed up for ballroom and social dance, yes?"
"Unfortunately," Tim blurts out and Lucy lifts an eyebrow.
"Excuse me?"
Crap.
He clears his throat. "Uh, no– I meant– Yes, I signed up for those."
Lucy narrows her eyes at him, clearly not being fooled by his lame save, but makes no remarks about it either.
"Ok. Before starting, I always ask my students if they can share what motivated them to take my classes, so I can adjust the lessons towards the goals they have. What brings you here today, Tim?" Lucy asks.
Again, for whatever reason, he seems to lack a proper filter in front of this woman he just met.
"The fear of a five foot five woman with excellent aim and access to high caliber guns?"
Lucy's eyebrows lift, barely concealed shock behind her brown eyes.
"Is your wife into hunting?"
Tim almost laughs while he shakes his head. Bad joke.
"No, that would be my best friend, Angela. She and her fiancee are taking lessons for their wedding and she kind of forced me to sign up. Said I could use a hobby that didn't include guns."
At this, Lucy nods slowly. "So I take it you're a cop too?" She asks, pursing her lips.
It's weird to be asked this many personal questions all of a sudden, Tim thinks. These are things she could easily check on his subscription questionnaire, yet here she is maintaining a full conversation with him.
"Yes, ma'am. I'm a field training officer."
This seems to amuse her. "So, we're both teachers."
Tim would like to differ, but he shrugs anyway. "In a sense."
And then, something in Lucy's gaze changes, challenging him as she crosses her arms over her chest. "Listen, Tim, obviously this isn't the streets, so you probably think that your job has more relevance than what we do here."
"You cannot seriously compare them–"
"I'm not," Lucy says sternly, her voice raising just a little. "I'm just saying, you shouldn't judge something until you've tried it."
"Come on, it can't be that hard," Tim says, rolling his eyes.
At this, Lucy's lips just curve into a sickly sweet– and definitely dangerous– smile.
"Let's see if you think that after the lesson ends, yeah?"
-----
An hour later, Tim plops down in one of the benches lined at the back of the room. Muscles in his body he wasn't even aware existed are aching, he's sweating all over, and he's still catching his breath.
Maybe he's not as young anymore, though he hardly thinks being in your late thirties counts as old. He's former military and he's currently in the police force, so his body has always been in top shape. He jogs almost every day, he goes to the gym regularly. He even shoots hoops on some weekends with the guys.
A lot of his life revolves around exercising, so he doesn't get how one single hour of dancing has him this exhausted.
It's not the first time Tim dances in his life, but he hardly remembers any other time where he had to do anything more than sway his body from side to side, that wasn't high school prom or his wedding. And with how he performed today, it's a miracle Isabel's feet survived their first wedding dance. He hasn't danced like that anymore since then, except maybe the times he used to grab his wife's–no, ex-wife's– hand and slowly guide her in a circle at the kitchen, a random jazz song playing on the radio.
It all started with the stretching. Who the hell stretches so much before exercising? And who said one's legs needed to be so separated from each other that much anyway? They're attached to the same body for a reason.
Then there's the issue of the basic steps. He isn't sure how he manages to excel at hand to hand combat, but just fails miserably while trying to coordinate his hands and feet as he moves. When he finally manages to go left, Lucy's already instructing him to go right. And at the tenth time his body spins on the spot, the room starts to spin with him even when he is static.
Although he's not the only student in the class doing badly, he still feels a tad embarrassed. Especially since he has a teacher like Lucy, who is patient and understanding, repeating each step as many times as needed until everybody gets a hold of it. Lucy, whose natural grace and beauty is already proving to be distracting in Tim's first class.
He can't seem to help following with his eyes every move her body makes. And what a body it is. Strong arms, thick thighs, toned legs. Her chest, hips and waist are the perfect combination of soft curves. And then that great ass–
"It's harder than you thought, right?" Lucy says with a satisfied smirk on her full lips, startling him as she suddenly sits to his right on the bench.
Tim feels his ears grow hot as he shifts in his seat, almost groaning. Shit, if he is to make it beyond one class, he really has to stop thirsting about his instructor. It doesn't help that he knows how her hands feel over his arms and his back, as she gently corrects his posture and form while he practices his steps.
Lucy's looking at him expectantly, her big brown eyes sucking him in. He doesn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing he was wrong, but he also doesn't want to be a complete dick.
"I can admit I was wrong about that," Tim says, crossing his arms.
"But?" Lucy asks, making Tim raise his eyebrows. "I can sense a but," she adds.
"Can I be honest?"
"You don't give me the impression of someone that holds back on opinions."
Tim tries holding back a smile at her knowing comment. "The music makes me sleepy," he confesses.
Lucy's eyes widen and then she explodes into laughter, making everybody around turn to look at them.
"Wait until we get started on Tango," Lucy says with a wink.
He doesn't even have time for his brain to come up with a response when Tamara, one of the younger teachers and the one who helped him sign up for class, approaches Lucy with a skip in her step. She whispers something in Lucy's ear and she nods, calling for a young man named Jackson, who turns to her with a smile and reaches behind the reception desk before walking towards Lucy.
He realizes what he brings when Lucy sits once again on the bench to take off her shoes and quickly slip on a pair of short heels, before she's off the bench and walking with Jackson towards the center of the classroom.
One of Jackson's hands holds one of Lucy's and the other settles lightly on her waist. Lucy mirrors him, her own free hand coming to rest on Jackson's shoulder as she smiles softly. They both straighten their spines and lift their chins, their bodies moving closer as they adopt what Tim supposes is a starting pose for dancing. Suddenly, the room goes silent and Tamara announces Lucy and Jackson will be giving a ballroom demonstration, as a way to motivate the new students.
As the slow music starts to flow from the speakers, Lucy and Jackson start to move, each movement graceful and practiced. Her feet follow his with each open step they take, letting Jackson gently take the lead, even when their heads are facing opposite sides. Their faces stretch into relaxed smiles, clearly enjoying the dance, and when Jackson slowly helps Lucy bend her body down and backwards into a dip, Tim feels as if he's watching a queen dancing. That's the level of elegance with which she's moving. They twirl on the spot before Jackson holds Lucy into another backwards dip, but this time, they're so close to the bench that Tim can see the sheen of sweat over Lucy's soft skin. As her head throws back, her hooded eyes lock into his, making his heart skip several beats quicker.
But just as quickly as he looks at him she's gone, pulled by Jackson into another series of steps that move them towards the center of the ballroom again. He leads Lucy into a spin that moves her away from him before they slowly bow in a salute to their public. Everyone claps around them as the music stops, and Tim hadn't noticed how much he had held his breath until then.
He feels like he just broke free from a spell that was casted upon him the moment Lucy started to slide her feet this way and that on the floor a minute earlier. He shakes his head, blinking as a smile grows on his lips. He feels warm all over, moved, his heart beating excitedly.
He'd come today with the intention of never setting foot in this studio after the class was over but, maybe, it wouldn't be so bad to come back for a second class. Or a third.