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Is he seriously going to caw? God she hoped so. She was running out of targets to fight, which was good and bad. Good that he was less likely to run into trouble getting the target out. Bad that the pile of bodies unconscious and bleeding out made it harder to maneuver. Hearing the shots, she spared a moment to check her partner, making sure he was the shooter and not the shot. 

  Clary was his way of sneaking away for a break of acting. As a victor, he   had to maintain a certain image while in the Capitol, saying only certain   things and acting a certain way. when he was speaking privately with Clary,   at least his smiles and laughs were genuine and not forced.

        “If I step on your toes, I’ll kiss it better.”

  He pulled the man out onto the dancer floor, holding on hand and putting   his other arm around Clary’s waist. In this close proximity, no one was   likely to overhear their conversation, not with the music booming around   them and people spinning and twirling on either side of them, making   eavesdropping difficult.

         “Is it just me, or are these parties getting longer?”

  He was aware of why the victor had taken him aside to dance. Even he   needed a break from the constant smiles and cheerfulness every now and   then. Dancing was as good excuse as any and due to their close working   relationship, it was easily ignored by everyone else. He chuckled, shaking   his head, mostly because he knew he’d let Jameson kiss him better if he   wanted to.

    “Good because I’m actually a good dancer. Surprising, I know.” 

  It was easy to fall into step, one arm resting around the victors shoulders.   The steps came easy, ones he had danced a thousand times before. It was   difficult to ignore the tingling sensation Jameson’s hand caused on his back   but that wasn’t what this dance was about. It was an escape and a chance   to speak candidly amongst the busy crowd.

       “They do feel like they’re becoming marathons but I hate to tell          you, we’ve only been here an hour.” 

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   Jameson let out a laugh, a skill he was practiced in over the last few years.    Capitolites were people who needed to be assured that whatever they were    saying had relevance, though it rarely ever does. Draining the remaining    liquid in his glass, he sets it on a passing tray and turns to Clary, easily    taking his arm. 

       “Come, let’s dance.”

        “Dance? With me?” 

  Confusion lilt his tone as he was whisked away by the victor. Not that he   would ever complain. Capitol parties were drab and seemingly all the same,   Jameson’s company was definitely preferred. Yet, they were not normally   so open and focused on being more professional rather than friendly. Still,   he was willingly lead away from a conversation that was going nowhere   because it meant spending time with James.

        “What if you step on my toes?”