Dance With Me, Sway With Me (Closed, Ep 2)

[Knock Out]

Knock Out didn't blame her for not speaking out with what she really thought back then. Then again in that line of work she probably couldn't have, even if she were brave enough – as it would've looked bad on her troupe. Just like Knock Out couldn't complain about any of his clients, nor could he really berate them over some rather questionable choices in designs that they made - as much as he wanted to, and he was sure brave enough to do so – but he knew when to hold his tongue. It was their money, they were paying for a product, and he had to deliver. Same with Rotary - while the upper class snobs didn't say what they really thought half the time? They did it in other ways. Like bitching about it to their friends after the show, or on the opposite side of the spectrum? Raving how good the performance was. It wasn't like a party in a seedy club, and Knock Out figured that the fake enthusiasm and clapping from the audience was probably as much a part of the show as the dancing itself.

But what did he know.

He hadn't really changed much since those days, however. Still speaking his mind, still thinking he was above and better than everyone. The only thing that'd really stopped was his frequenting of the seedier clubs and the things he partook in while at said clubs – and even that was because Earth had no such thing. He tried to fill the void some with racing. While it was fun and all, it wasn't that exciting in the grand scheme of things.

This was nice though. The drinking part, anyway. It'd been too long. Being the sole competent medic on the Nemesis had its downsides, but he wouldn't complain – it kept him off the frontlines. Something he never wanted to do again.

As he led Rotary to the middle of the room, he would smile and do a half bow while still holding her servo in his.

“Something like that! I'm sure we can work it out.” His smile widening into a subtle but sly grin. His other servo didn't need much guiding once the music had changed, and he'd rest it gently on her side – resisting the urge to cringe at the fact he was touching an Autobot. The high-grade helped. It really did.

At her question, he'd tilt his head just slightly in thought.

“Can't say I've heard of it, but I'm a quick learner – or so I'm told.” He'd flash her another wink, before sidestepping gently and hoping she would follow his lead.

At least if he were doing it wrong? She could lead on. She was the trained dancer here, after all!

[Deleted]

Making her troupe, which had been like a second cohort of hers, would have made her cringe. The two mecha who had her commissioned would have felt...Betrayed, and while they and the older mecha of her cohort were certainly some of the higher caste snobs that those of the lower castes stereotyped - they were still family. Without them she would not be alive, and she had always held respect for the pair – for despite all of their snobbery? They certainly made sure she knew how to be polite to those 'beneath' their station in life.

As for audience reaction, Rota and the other dancers also knew that many were fake in their enthusiasm and how clapping was as much part of the show as the performance itself was. Those truly serious about their path, like Rota and some of her cohort, had the implants to somewhat read the fields on other mecha. Because in order to improve? They did not need the 'kind socially acceptable' praise that many saw fit as appropriate, they needed proper feedback!

The implants, helped considerably and of course, they helped Rota merge into a different line of work as a counselor. They also helped her simply read others, and the situation. Just like she could read that he was enjoying a little downtime, but at the same time? A slight hesitance, maybe even disgust, emerged through his field. It wasn't extreme by any means, nothing to make her excuse herself suddenly – instead she nodded when he mentioned that he had not heard of it, and that he was a quick learner.

Follow his lead she would, and the femme did not correct him often outside of slight step correction. After the two mentions of where he needed to step? The pair were dancing, and dancing rather well for a pair of rusty things! Rota was enjoying this, there was a smile on her faceplate and she was light on her feet, like the proper little dancer she was. As the song came to the end, she gave the mech a proper little dancer's bow. “You were a lovely dance partner.” Rota mentioned, her tone light, cheerful. “But I am sure you have plenty to do, I know my way around Haven well enough to search for Altruous on my own, with thanks to you.” It was less wanting to be alone, and more she was positive he had better things to do than to continue playing tour guide to the enemy (even if they were currently in a truce).

[Knock Out]

Knock Out was good at winging things. It was, after all, how he became a medic. Sure – the fact he knew his way around a mech due to his position at the body repair shop had probably helped, as did the fact the Decepticons were no doubt desperate and didn't question his lack of qualification. But it was what got him as far as he had. He'd never had any official training – aside from the occasional time he helped with one of the higher ranking medics with surgery in the very early days of the war. He was lucky that he had some natural talent for the profession he'd launched himself into to get out of any fighting – and even luckier that it'd carried him as far as it had. Chief Medical Officer? While he always had high aspirations for himself, he never would've dreamed he'd have such a prestigious position.

Winging it was what he planned to do here with the dance. He'd never heard of the dance that she'd asked of – nor was this really his style of doing things. But how hard could it be? He looked damn good at most everything he did, and this would be no exception to that rule.

He wasn't aware that she noticed his slight hesitation or disgust. As a medic, he had learned well to hide his true emotions – although now in this downtime when he was relaxing, he may have been a little lax. The high-grade probably didn't help any. Even though he'd slipped some, he did find Rotary's company to be tolerable despite knowing if it wasn't for the truce, he would've taken great pleasure in disposing of her.

So far so good on the dancing thing. This was actually quite enjoyable. Early on he'd taken a little misstep or two and had to be corrected, but he was – as he said – a fast learned, so soon there were no more errors or stumbling of pedes.

Just when he actually started having fun with this – the song came to an end, and Rotary bowed. He would give a gentle but polite bow in return, smiling to her.

“As were you.” He replied, straightening himself up some. “It was my pleasure. I am only sorry that we did not find the mech you were looking for!” He chuckled. He did have plenty of things to do, but he had no sense of urgency to actually be doing said things. Breakdown would call if things got too hectic back on the Nemesis. “I will bid you farewell. Good luck on your search for the Priest. Until next time, Rotary.”

He waited until she had excused herself and made her way from the room, before making his way back to the bar. Free high-grade was free high-grade, after all, and it'd been far too long since he'd got to relax like this. As such, he would reach across to pour himself another cube.

::Breakdown, don't wait up for me. Things here are a mess and need total reorganization. Close up the Medical Bay when you're done with the Vehicons for the day, and get some recharge, alright?::

He'd comm back to Breakdown, at least having the courtesy to tell him what was going on – even though what was going on was a blatant lie. He wouldn't wait for a reply, lowering his servo back to his cube and taking a long, much-needed sip.

Here he would stay for a while longer, downing the contents of several cubes - before slowly making his way back to the Nemesis to catch up on all the paperwork that'd no doubt be waiting for him back in the Medical Bay. A lazy evening was just what the Doctor ordered, after all!

-End-