Warning: This is not my usual story. Really, after all that tension in the series, this is my take on what it finally comes down to.

And the fic was randomly inspired by "Just Dance" by Lady Gaga (not my usual taste of music, but hey, can't ignore where inspiration comes from).

Just Dance

The music pulsed through the room. She danced in the thick of the crowd, eyes closed, body moving to the rhythm. She'd let her lovely auburn hair grow out of the short professional cut he remembered and into a longer style, one that reminded him of a time when it had been just the two of them. Just two people and nobody else, nothing else—no rules, regulations and boundaries.

He hadn't expected to ever find her in such a place—a club in the middle of France. He'd moved to the area after his previous relationship hadn't worked out. The club was one of the few in which he felt comfortable, the patrons not all below the age of thirty. He'd been having a solitary drink on the raised level above the dance floor when he'd seen a flicker of a face not seen in a while but never forgotten and he'd been arrested at the change in her.

His eyes moved down her petite frame as she swayed. Gone was the black-and-red that served as a protective barrier. His heartbeat, already pounding in time to the music, doubled as he took in the silky layers of her dress. The wine-colored cloth seemed to cling to her shoulders as the front dropped between her breasts, a hint of cream-colored skin showing. The length just covered her thighs, revealing slim shapely legs encased in black tights.

As she brought her hands up to pull back her hair, the cloth covering one curve seemed to almost slip, the glimpse of the bare skin of her breast sending a jolt through him, instantly sending all his blood from his head down into the more instinctive parts of him.

And he knew that he had to be near her now and say those things she had refused to hear for so many years.

All she wanted to hear, was the music, the heavy drums, the rhythmic song.

All she wanted to feel, was the tempo that set her blood pulsing in tune.

She didn't want to think about the past, the might-have-beens and regrets. She didn't want to think of him. All she wanted to do was just dance. Lose herself in the music.

Nothing really alerted her to his presence, not a word or a touch, but as she opened her eyes and met the dark ones set in a painfully familiar face, she had known he would be there.

He stood still. She stopped moving. With the mass of bodies still dancing around them, she felt like they were in the eye of a storm. But she knew that this was just an illusion as there was nothing at all calm about this meeting of long-time friends with many unspoken things between them.

He hadn't said a word. The flashing lights alternately hid his face in shadow and highlighted him. The markings above his left eyebrow, a symbol of his heritage, seemed to now add a dangerousness to him in the dim lighting. Her body reacted instinctively to it, her heart picking up its beat, her blood heating up.

He seemed to sense it as a flame of satisfaction lit his eyes. He brought one hand up to her face but didn't touch. She couldn't breath as she felt the heat of his hand as it moved down, leaving that hairsbreadth gap between his skin and hers. He didn't touch the skin left exposed by the drop of her dress but she felt him. Her breasts ached, her nipples came to attention. That small knowing smile of his formed on his face. He knew what he was doing.

His hand stopped at her waist and slowly, almost carefully, moved to her side to grasp her. She bit back a moan as her eyes shut for a brief second at his touch, the heat from the contact seeming to lick at the smoldering desire that had formed inside of her. He started to move, the beat of the drums guiding him.

Never taking her eyes off him, she followed his movements. They didn't move any closer, didn't close that half a foot of space between them. The air was thick, the heat bringing a flush to their skin, the tension almost solid.

She lifted the hair off the back of her neck, trying to let some cool air bring her body temperature down. The movement nearly revealed herself to his eyes and she saw his hot gaze flick down to her chest, the swallowing of his throat. Her lips curved. She dropped her hair and moved her arms above her head, moving her hips faster to the beat.

His eyes collided with hers. That hand on her waist pulled her closer to him, closing the distance between them until there was barely any space left between them, the sensitive skin of her breasts, already being rubbed by the cloth of her dress and sending tremors through her, nearly touching the soft fabric of his dark shirt and sending her over that fine edge of ecstasy.

She brought her hands down to land cautiously on his shoulders. She heard the sharp intake of his breath. The blood pounded in her ears as she felt his broad shoulders, his warm skin through the thin fabric. She was doing something she had longed to do for many years but never had been able to. Her small hands moved to his upper arms, both of his hands having made their way to her waist. They were barely moving now, a shuffling of feet, as each was lost in this touch, what almost felt forbidden for no other reason then their own restrictions held onto so tightly for so long.

Her hands moved back up to his shoulders, coming around to his collar, fingers slipping underneath, a small exhalation of breath leaving her, too small to be called a sigh, more like a release, this longed for touch of skin on skin almost too much to bear.

His hands tightened around her waist, bringing her eyes back up to her face. Her breath rushed out of her lungs at the craving, the need in his eyes.

And his lips were suddenly on hers. This first kiss between two people having been starved off each other for too long was not gentle. It didn't inspire poetry; it wasn't a soft click as two halves of one whole finally met.

It was dark and needy and passionate. It was a battle being waged between two people who had been lovers long before this kiss. It was hot mouths fused together, tongues meeting and sucking, the moistness of her mouth echoing the wetness she felt. It was two bodies trying to mold themselves together, desperate to finally be one. No longer were they moving to the beat of the music that rocked the other bodies around them, no, they were moving to a rhythm all of their own making.

His hands had lifted her against him, his arms were across her back, hands lost in the tangle of her hair. She had her own hands in his soft dark hair, her arms tightly around his neck as he slanted his mouth across hers, finding a spot that tingled all the way down to her toes. She wrapped one leg neatly around his waist, bringing his hardness right against her. He groaned into her mouth, his large hands moved down her back to grasp her bottom, a shiver running through her.

A bump from behind brought him back to his senses. They were still in the middle of the dance floor of a club, humans and other species enjoying the evening together. He slowly lifted his head from hers, not wanting to break contact. His kiss gentled, a last lapping of her mouth before their mouths separated. His hands moved back to her waist, her leg dropping back to the floor. Dark blue eyes raised to his, searching his eyes as they had often done in their shared past, but this time, the desire for him not hidden from view.

Seeing this, he grinned, that smile not often seen but when it appeared, always causing a warm glow inside her. She smiled back and moved up on her toes to kiss him, this time gently and with no hurried and frenzied need. Her body was soft and ready for him, the passion still there but now she knew, as he took her hand and moved towards the exit, he wasn't with her for just a dance, just this night.

He was hers now and she was his.

Author's Note: I know it's a bit hotter than my other fics…but I thought, eh, what the hell?