#harleyball

>There were three messages in your inbox that had been burning a hole there since you saw them. All of them were painful, and all of them were terrifying.

After some mild persuasion, and Dirk trying to make things more difficult but admittedly more awesome, a certain song began to play. Dirk was no real dancer by any stretch of the imagination, but when he fought he could be grace embodied, and this song brought something out of him. Which was the point, of course.

The beginning of the song started, and they got into position. Dirk took back his shades, but didn’t put them on just yet. They circled each other, one hand forward, the backs of their palms pressed together, as if they were about to fight in very close combat. They changed direction twice, and as soon as the music made its first pause, Dirk put his shades back on.

Together, they thrust forward, each faking a punch that blew past Roxy’s head and Dirk’s chest, spinning around each other and catching each other’s hand at the peak of the spin. Spinning back together, they danced aggressively. Whenever Roxy’s foot moved forward, Dirk’s mirrored it, moving back, and vice versa. His fist flew by her shoulder. Her leg stretched up past his head, and he caught her hand and spun her around till she was standing straight up again. They pulled apart, mirrored a punch, caught each other’s hand in the same hand that threw the punch, and spun in a tight circle.

Dirk pulled her close, then pushed her away as the music lessened just before the second crescendo. Breathing heavily, they circled each other one last time, the back of their palms pressed together again. Dirk gave Roxy a nod.