Written for a Writerverse challenge. Prompt: light on your feet

Jack had seen Sam running flat-out, simultaneously avoiding staff blasts flying through the air and tree roots on the ground. He'd seen her sneaking up on the enemy, silent and ghost-like; they never knew she was there until it was too late to make any difference. He had fond memories of picnics and cookouts where she played with Cassie, chasing the dog and flying kites, surefooted and grinning in the sun.

So, why was he so fascinated at how gracefully she moved tonight? For hours now, he watched as she practically floated from table to table, radiant in her floor-length white gown, talking and laughing with her guests. He couldn't take his eyes off her as she danced with almost every man there from General Hammond to Walter. She'd even danced with Felger, for crying out loud!

Now, finally, she was moving toward him, flushed and smiling. He handed his beer to Daniel, cutting him off mid-sentence.

"I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me," he said, even as she stepped into his arms and they moved slowly together in time to the music.

"Last dance of the night," she mused, her breath warm against his ear. "I reserved it especially for my husband." He could hear the giddy smile in her voice and pulled her closer, feeling their heartbeats echo against each other as they floated together on the dance floor.