Paso Doble	  Paso Doble by Viviana  
 

'Look out!' he yells, as the sleek black sedan halts, screeching, across
our path, and I brake lethally hard. Instinct ingrained, we spring, each
from our doors, crouch, draw and fire. 

They return full force, bullets pinging metal round our heads, burying in
concrete. I glimpse the flash of gold from the corner of my eye as he
dives for the railing and vaults, aiming to circle around the enemy. 

I give covering fire, pinning them hard. My heart is with him now, beating
harder with every step, every chance he takes. My heart is all I can
spare. 

'Clip!' he shouts, and I throw it, arcing, hearing it hit. I know, without
seeing, how he loads, rolls and fires, and coolly takes out his mark. 

No signals required, for this is like breathinghe's cleared a path for me.
My mark's gun jamsI break for the ramp side, drop and round the pillar,
chopping down the gunman with a blow, and covering the men inside. 

This is us. This is how we work. One day it simply happenedrehearsal
evolved into becoming, and we were partners. Impressive apart, together...
we danced. 

No words, few signs. A glance perhaps, if there's time. An instinctive
awareness, each of the other's body, and the shape of the spaces between.
Knowing each other's abilities like our own, how to bend and stretch them
without breaking, the nature and thrill of tension and release. Faith,
that where one leads, the other will follow. That when there is a fall,
there will be a catch. 

I accept it, accept him, as part of myself, the grace, the force, the
agility. Everything fits, even the mistakes, the style and swiftness of
recovery somehow better than preparedness. Wit and character beat stale
perfectionour connection is pristine, and that's what matters. We both
know, after this, there is no other partner. 

We dance around the world and each time the dance is new. We have our
favourites, though, and when we execute them well, we smile, secretly,
inside. It's drama, alright, carnal and ruthless, pulsating with the
desire for life, redolent with the smell of gunsmoke and the taste of
blood. 

Our agents converge to mop up. We take their breath away, I know it. They
can't see how we mesh so perfectly together. Neither can I. 

For too much awareness of one's partner spoils the symbiosisthe dance is
all. And so we make our moves in silent trust, never looking for the
other, until the end. 

From nowhere, he appears at my shoulder and we exchange quipsa final
flourish. The dance is over now, the move complete. 

Not until we are safely alone do we truly look at each other. 

The look does what a kiss does. 

 
DISCLAIMER: Not for profit. All characters are the property of their
rightful owners.  


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