<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic">An invitation to a dance, testing the waters and softening the tension</span></div><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-family: Palatino Linotype;"><span style="color: #8080BF">“You see, Signorina,” she listened to him say, “the distinction between right and wrong is quite blurry in our time and age, but especially our reality ... but again, every problem can be solved if approached wisely. Your leader believes in the greatness within his people, my brother fought for that cause. Fanaticism is present in the way your Fuhrer carries his business, but we can assume that his fanaticism is guided by the greatness he has for his country and the victory he promised his people.”<br/><br/>The glare in Officer Wojcik’s eyes wasn’t watered down but balanced out by her smile.  There was an opposition in his connotations, but his words held no proof or true conviction except where his brother was concerned.  Even then, she could beg the question of his location at the time of his brother’s demise.  There was no use in that but rendering the man whom she still needed answers from, and she could trust herself to express the thoughts without the vindication she was feeling, which some deep part of her knew was just a form of denial in any case.<br/><br/>The man’s conversation with himself, aloud with her as audience but clearly not meant for her response, put her back into wariness with him.  The captain - which she had to refer to him as, for anything else was too reminiscent of his twin - downed the tumbler and began to pace, an obvious attempt at regaining control.  Yvonne couldn’t help but snicker a little.  It was always such an easy thing for men to lose, yet it was somehow considered a strength amongst men of the world.  Men of the Word would know better.<br/><br/>Finally fed-up with himself, the captain turned to her and held out his hand.  She stared at it in surprise for a moment, confused about this turn in events and what he meant by the gesture until he said the words.<br/><br/>“Would you like to dance?”<br/><br/>Hers widened at him.  If he’d simply told her, made commentary on the music or those already on the floor, or if he had stayed silent, she would’ve countered the underlying question smoothly.  However, the direct question, especially with such a heavy posture before her, gave her pause.  She could not find a way to gracefully reject him.  “I would be most obliged,” escaped her mouth as her fingers laid across his own.  He lead her around the path which first brought them to the booth<br/>and  back toward the wooden surface, then pulled her close, leaving enough space between the to fill with uncertain heat.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Oh God</span>, she thought.  How had she gotten into this mess?<br/><br/>Motioning to the side, she barely followed him, and any other motion after she turned her chin downward so she could stare at her feet and order them away from his own.  Whatever questions or commentary he shared, she missed.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Oh God!</span> she thought again. <span style="font-style: italic">How</span> had she gotten into this mess?!</span><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;">_____________________________________________</div><br/><br/><span style="color: #BFBFBF">With one hand of hers on the arm he had around her, and her other holding his, Luciano grasped the latter and lifted their hands to shoulder level. He began to lead the dance in agonizing slow movements. He assumed that Yvonne could have been against the idea of dancing because she simply did not want to refuse the offer so that she does not come off as rude, perhaps she did not know how to dance, but it did not matter to the man. Yvonne was not utterly powerless to say 'no' to something she did not want, perhaps she felt it was only polite to accept his hand. For all he knew, she did well carrying herself the way she thought felt comfortable for her. Motioning to the side, Yvonne barely followed him, and any other motion after she turned her chin downward so she could stare at her feet and order them away from his own.<br/><br/>She continued being silent.<br/><br/>When the woman looked down, Luciano stared past her face with an amused smile that threatened to touch his face but which he controlled by forcing his lips tightly together. It did not matter if she knew how to dance, nobody needed professional skills to slow dance to Jazz and Piano, but the man sought to test her. Trust was necessary during business transactions, be it a share of information or a deal. If she could not trust him in a dance, he would not be able to exchange information with her. Truth be told, he might have taken her by surprise with his dance invitation. It might have been a horrifying experience for the woman, equal enough to a meteor falling over her backyard. His mindset believed that trust was owed to no one, it was earned.<br/><br/>The man smoothly glided her form gracefully along with his. He was aware of the heat forming between their bodies. Even the three inches space in between was not a sufficient enough of a number to block this uncertain fervency. There was something about the woman he could simply not put his finger on. Innocence perhaps? But that ‘something’ could also be the fact that she was ‘different’ than most of the women at the Cabaret. Yvonne was military. Looking no further, he shifted his eyes from the shoulder of this liberated female to this warrioress’ face, searching for the  eyes he could not find and which she hid by staring down at her feet. He was not looking to make her blush, or to make her uncomfortable. He barely knew anything about the woman. His hand slid from her upper back to her left hip, correcting his arm position. It allowed for even more freedom and space between them. As much as he wanted to test the woman's trust by coming the night, he did not wish to create unnecessary distraction.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">''Frau Wójcik?''</span> Came a low yet deep voice with a breathy quality to it. Luciano moved his head to the right while Yvonne's was to his left. He briefly looked at her out of the corner of his eyes. A silent chuckle escaped his mouth as he guided their frames around painfully at a snail's pace – literally - one step for every slow beat. <span style="font-style: italic">''You have not answered my question. I believe that I have lost you there for a moment.''</span> Luciano allowed the tone of his reminder to come as direct but sanguine nonetheless, questioning yet playful enough; a man's hope to disarm the atmosphere from any tense feelings and for once, it was not about taking full control of a situation like he always attempted to do in his dominant nature. Fair play.<br/></span><br/><div style="text-align: center;">_____________________________________________</div><br/><br/><span style="color: #8080BF">The woman turned her face up at his inquiring one.  He looked at her from the corner of his eyes, the corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly.  Was he laughing at her?<br/><br/>''You have not answered my question. I believe that I have lost you there for a moment.''<br/><br/>He was!  Oh, that simply would not do. Yvonne straightened her back and cooled her expression, something placid and professional, but she couldn’t hide the bit of warmth behind it for his reaction.  She couldn’t exactly blame him.  With an internal sigh, she put more confidence into her steps, deciding however, that she would not let him get away with it by pushing into her right, brushing their bodies less than gently and rotating her foot behind that side, so he would be forced to turn with her as she pulled on his hand.<br/><br/>The problem wasn’t that she didn’t know how to dance, it was simply that she didn’t know how to follow.  She had practiced quite a bit for such situations, but all the forms she found directed the male partner, and that only helped her when dancing with someone more inept than she who knew the exact same patterns or did not mind giving up the reins.  Captain Grazzienelli did not seem to be that sort of man, so she would have her fun.  So she continued to push and pull him into the spin, likely disturbing the others on the floor, but she paid them little mind as she replied to his point, unable to remove the smart grin from her lips or even the chuckle in her voice as she was too unaware of them.<br/><br/>“If you were to lose me, you would  never be able to find me again, Captain.  Now tell me, what question is that?”  And she bit down on her snarky tongue behind closed lips, smiling sweetly up at the man, as innocent as ever.  Her lashes may or may not have fluttered once or twice to emphasize it.</span><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;">_____________________________________________</div><br/><br/><span style="color: #BFBFBF">The man’s hand slid slightly down the woman’s hip in response to the movement of her back straightening, her expression cooling. Her searched her face, the smirk he forcefully attempted to conceal flourished within his irises and found form on his lips. Did he just get himself in trouble? Just as he wondered, amused, the lead was taken away from him. He found himself stepping backwards as the woman stepped forward; at times forced to turn with her, pulled into her spins; chests brushing up less than gently. He felt like a sailor fighting over the control of his boat regardless of the storm. An endless battlefield combat on the dance floor. His eyes narrowed. He exchanged a challenging smile with her, lifting a questioning brow in disbelief. The man had known fierce opponents in different circumstances, and this dance had made his adrenaline spike just as high would he have facing these individuals again, friends and foes.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">“If you were to lose me, you would never be able to find me again, Captain. Now tell me, what question is that?”</span> And she bit down on her snarky tongue behind closed lips, smiling sweetly up at the man, as innocent as ever. Her lashes may or may not have fluttered once or twice to emphasize it. Luciano’s eyes glinted with mischief as their forms resumed to move slower again to the slow beat of the music. He found himself shaking his head, watching as the woman opened up to her surroundings like a flower. For now, he decided not to remind her of the question, allowing her to have her enjoyment instead - while it lasted. <br/><br/>The woman had way with words, he noted. He would return the favor soon enough, he thought, to give her a taste of his venom in return. Luciano noticed the looks on the faces of some men with hungry eyes planted on Yvonne. The Italian was not one to put up with these type of men, so disrespectful with their stares even though they could clearly see that she was in the company of another. The floor was marked as his territory the moment he decided to inhabit it with his body and soul. If they were the coyote, he was the bold lion.<br/><br/>Legs apart, Luciano brought his left forward for balance, and he moved his hand from the woman’s hip to her upper back, focusing a good percentage of his strength into that one particular hand as he calculated his next move successfully. Without signalling to the other what he was about to do, he continued to slow-dance with her until a certain rise in the beat. He swiftly but gently lowered Yvonne, dipping her forme further back to the left while supporting her arching body with a hand tightly behind her back. The support naturally brought forth her abdomen into contact with his groin. His right leg found a relaxed shelter between her thighs and Luciano voiced his laugh for the first time that night as he stared down at the Polish female with a glistening, undivided attention.<br/><br/>His other forgiving hand slid down the woman’s waist to her left thigh which he curled his hand gently around. Mercilessly, he brought her leg naturally into a forward and up lift, and it curled over his right hip. His eyes blinked to a dissipating vision of her neck arching back. In that position he answered her, <span style="font-style: italic">“I have crossed oceans, Frau Wójcik. There is no place in the world that I cannot reach should I lose you.”</span> A decisive smirk curled up one corner of his lips, his greys momentarily lingered from Yvonne’s neck to catch her eyes as he looked down at her. Their forms have taken the spotlight and bathed in the flashing lights of the cameras. <span style="font-style: italic">“I would not want to lose the valuable information and answers I assume you have for me - unless you decide to dive into the Bermuda Triangle, then I might not be able to conduct a search for you in there.”</span> Luciano added in a mock-friendly chuckle and an arch of the left brow.<br/><br/></span></span>