“There,” Trixie declared, closing the tray of the CD player. She waited for the first song to begin before turning up the volume loud enough to cause the floor beneath her to vibrate. “Well?” she invited, striding toward the centre of the living area, where she had cleared an open space. Her round blue eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. “What are you waiting for?”

Honey and Diana exchanged amused glances before slowly joining their friend. Already wriggling to the beat of the pounding bass line, Trixie drew her friends closer, and soon, the three were giggling and dancing the only way possible when Trixie was involved—with complete abandon.

Honey frowned when the second track of the compilation CD began. “I thought we put Ace of Base on our no-play list.” She raised an eyebrow and attempted to catch the attention of the already-dancing Trixie.

“Nope.” Trixie tossed her hair and looked over her shoulder to address her dubious dance partners. “We put in on the Maybe-In-Ten-Years-We-Won't-Be-So-Sick-Of-This-Song List. And by my calculation,” she glanced at the clock on the wall, “those ten years ended last summer.” She smiled in triumph as she played her trump card. “Besides, I'm the one who put it on the list, so if I choose to take it off early...”

“Okay. But you realize it's going back on the list after today, right?” Diana grinned and joined Trixie with good humour, pulling Honey with her.

The girls continued to dance, oblivious to the world around them. The sun sank behind the mountains. A scattering of clouds glowed pink, orange, and magenta while the sky rapidly shifted from pale winter blue to aqua marine, and then indigo.

Night was coming.

Several songs later, the girls collapsed onto the beige suede couch, panting for breath.

“Trix, where did you learn to dance like that?” Honey demanded, as soon as she could breathe freely.

“Like what?” Trixie asked, pushing her hair back from her face and holding it in a make-shift pony tail.

“Like, like...” Honey gestured ineffectually toward the cleared space where they had been dancing.

“Like you were born doing it,” Diana supplied. “Because we all know you weren't,” she concluded, her violet eyes twinkling.

Trixie laughed good-naturedly and casually redirected the conversation. “Remember when we went dancing in New York? Now that was fun.”

“Which time?” Di asked, her cheeks flushed from exertion.

“The first time,” Trixie specified.

Her friends smiled. “It sure was fun,” Honey said fondly, remembering Barbara Hubbell's excitement, the way it had felt to dance with Brian, and Trixie's attempt to teach Dan to dance. She raised an eyebrow. “Where did you learn all those new moves?”

Trixie hesitated. “University, mostly. Maria and I would go dancing on the weekends.”

Honey and Di exchanged looks. “Maria as in...”

“My roommate. We were even roommates at school for a while. That's how we met.”

“And she liked to dance?” Di asked cautiously, eager to learn more about Trixie's friend and co-worker who had been killed, but not sure that Trixie was ready to talk.

Trixie snorted. “Liked to? More like lived to dance.” Trixie finally faced her friends, determined to focus only on the happy memories of Maria. “When we started working together, it became a stress reliever. Other people on the team would go out drinking; we'd go out dancing.”

“Sounds like fun,” Honey offered.

“Oh, it was! I haven't danced for a long time, though. Not since...” She stopped, and found she could no longer meet their eyes.

“Let's go tonight,” Di suggested impulsively. Her earlier fatigue forgotten, she sat forward and grasped both Trixie and Honey's hands. “What do you say?”

“I'm in,” Honey immediately agreed, in tune with Diana's plan. “Trix?”

Trixie blinked back sudden, unwanted tears. “You guys are the best, and I would love to go out dancing with you.” She frowned. “But...”

“The guys.” Honey nodded, understanding.

“What about them?” Di demanded. “If they don't want to go, they just miss out seeing us in our stunning new outfits.” She glanced to the bags waiting at the foot of the stairs. Her eyes gleamed with mischief. “I don't think it will be a problem to talk them into dancing. Besides, we can always bribe them with food at a good restaurant. I'm sure they'll be hungry after skiing all day.”

Honey nodded. “And the kitchen is still a mess. Convincing them to go out won't be a problem.”

Trixie looked toward the stereo as a new song began. “In that case, I have an idea.”

An hour later, the girls had completed their plan, and were back to dancing. The unmistakable sound of the Bangles filled the chalet as the girls enthusiastically performed the familiar actions of “Walk Like an Egyptian”. Glancing over her shoulder, Honey was the first to notice that the male Bob-Whites had returned. She jumped, her exclamation of surprise muffled by the blaring music. Diana turned, still moving gracefully to the music. The soft glow of the lone lamp caused her hair to gleam, and glinted off her jewellery. Smirking at the four speechless men, she touched Trixie's arm. “They're back,” she mouthed, knowing her voice would never carry over the music.

Honey and Di exchanged winks as Trixie made her way to the stereo, still dancing to the music. With a flourish, she removed the CD and returned to its case.

“Good! You're just in time,” Trixie beamed at her unsuspecting prey.

“In time for what?” Brian asked with trepidation, rubbing his ringing ear. “Helping you destroy that CD?” he asked hopefully.

“Nope.” Trixie placed the disc securely in her purse. “You're just in time to get cleaned up so you can take three gorgeous women out for dinner and dancing.”

The guys exchanged looks. “I think she means them,” Mart said in a deliberately audible aside, and was rewarded with muffled chuckles from his friends.

Ignoring the taunt, Di said, “And by clean up, Trixie really did mean clean up.” She directed a pointed glance at the dirty dishes in the kitchen. “We would have considered making you supper, but...” She let her voice trail off, her hands fluttering vaguely toward the kitchen.

Brian nodded. “Of course, it would have been out of the question for you to do the dishes.”

“Of course!” Honey said, her hazel eyes widened for maximum effect. She inspected her classic French nails. “New manicures. You wouldn't want us to chip our nails, would you?”

Mart groaned. “They've gone feminine on us,” he lamented. “Wait.” He stepped toward his sister. “You got a manicure?” He let out a yelp of surprise as he inspected her delicate iridescent polish.

Enjoying his discomfiture, Trixie drew his attention to her feet, revealing the same polish on her toes. Honey and Di likewise offered their pedicures for inspection.

“Dinner in half an hour?” Trixie asked, giggling at the suddenly tongue-tied males.

Dan shrugged. “Whatever you say. You know, if you girls helped in the kitchen, we would be done even sooner,” he coaxed.

Di shook her head. “We'd like to help. Really, we would, but we still need to get ready ourselves.” She gestured to her bare feet and jeans. “Ladies wear dresses for dancing,” she informed them airily.

Mart hooted. “Ladies, yes. Trixie, no.” He pulled at his sister's arm. “Come on, Trix. You know you didn't even pack a dress. Come help us in the kitchen and show off all those domestic skills Dan says you've acquired.”

Trixie shook off Mart's hand and linked arms with Honey and Diana. Her eyes twinkled as she replied, “Then I'll just have to spend my time trying to come up with something appropriate.” Leaving the room, she called over her shoulder, “Have fun with those dishes!”

A short time later, Mart and Dan waited in the living room. Pulling at the collar of his white dress shirt, Mart complained, “I don't see why we need to get dressed up. Just because the girls feel like getting all gussied up shouldn't mean that we have to. What was wrong with my jeans?”

Dan shrugged. “Nothing, if you want to sit at the table and watch the girls' purses all night.”

“What?”

Sinking back against the cool leather of the couch, Dan asked, “Are you hoping to dance with Di tonight?”

Mart's flushed face answered for him.

“Then it's a good idea to dress as if you actually belong with her,” Dan continued. “There will be plenty of well-dressed guys waiting in line to get a chance with the girls. Plus,” he grinned cheekily, “chicks dig it when guys dress up.”

“I guess you're right,” Mart said. “Wait. You think they'll dance with strange guys?”

Dan snorted. “They just spent an entire day being all girlie. Believe me, they're out to have fun, and lots of it.”

Mart was silent, remembering the high-spirited dancing they had interrupted.

“Well, Honey might not,” Dan amended, “but Trixie and Di...” He left the sentence hanging as Jim and Brian entered the room.

“A suit, Jim?” Mart shook his head. “You brought a suit on a ski trip?”

Jim shrugged and adjusted his tie. “The tux was at the dry cleaners.”

With a laugh, Brian sat down in an easy chair. Away from the stress of the hospital, the dark circles under his eyes had faded to pale shadows. “I think Jim is banking on the theory that girls like to see a guy dressed up,” he speculated.

Jim grinned, his emerald eyes mirthful. “Well, it doesn't hurt.”

“What doesn't hurt?” Honey asked as the three girls entered the room.

Brian was at her side in an instant, taking the arm exposed by her slim gold dress. “We were just saying how much we're looking forward to an evening on the town. Right, guys?”

He received little to no response as Jim, Mart, and Dan rose to greet the girls. Diana's lavender bias-cut dress swirled, flared, and clung as she moved, subtly drawing attention.

There was nothing subtle about Trixie's dress. A splash of vibrant red combined with a flash of exposed skin that dazzled the eye. She stood silently, almost unrecognizable in her transformation. Red would never be her colour. It did nothing for her skin tone. She would never be entirely comfortable in revealing clothing. She didn't enjoy being the centre of attention because of her appearance. On this occasion, however, even the most critical observer would testify that the red of her dress and the daring cut only highlighted her inner fire and vibrant personality.

Jim swallowed hard and took her elbow. “I see you managed to come up with something appropriate,” he teased.

Trixie laughed and did a small twirl, happy in his obvious admiration. “I do my best.”

Noticing his sister for the first time, Mart did a double-take. “Appropriate might be pushing it,” he corrected, “but you do clean up well.”

Trixie brushed the compliment aside. “You look pretty good yourself,” she told him.

Mart glanced down at his plain trousers and button-down shirt, then at Diana's dress.

“She's dying to dance with you,” Trixie whispered.

Mart narrowed his eyes, watching Diana as she laughed at something Brian said. Before he could question Trixie, Dan appeared with three coats. He handed one to Brian and one to Mart, and approached Trixie with the third. Since it was obvious that Dan had no intention of relinquishing Trixie's coat to him, Jim reluctantly stood aside as the dark-haired man settled the coat on her shoulders.

Suddenly nervous, Trixie searched Dan's face for a different sort of approval than her family, other friends, or Jim could provide. A flicker of uncertainly crossed her uncharacteristically serious face.

“Jim's right,” Dan murmured. “I can't think of a more appropriate dress.”

In silent communication, they shared the memory of the friend they would always associate with red dresses and dancing. With a nod of approval, Dan moved aside to allow Jim to take her elbow, and they were off.

Trixie dropped into a seat across from Mart, exhausted from dancing. Though her hair was tousled and her cheeks flushed, her eyes were bright with excitement.

“Taking a break?” Mart asked, an edge to his voice.

Still catching her breath, Trixie studied her brother's stiff posture. “Yup.” She took a sip of ice-cold Coke and watched various emotions play across Mart's face.

He's angry, she thought. And since his eyes kept drifting to the dance floor, she could only assume that the source of his irritation was there. She casually scanned the room. Aha, she thought, and struggled to keep from smiling. Diana was dancing with a tall and impossibly handsome Greek god. Moving smoothly, the pair drew attention from several people other than her brother. I wonder if he realizes he's more frustrated with himself than with Di, she mused. Keyed up from the evening of social interaction, Trixie decided to do some prodding.

“So, have you danced yet?” she asked, noisily clanking the ice in her glass.

Mart grunted without bothering to change his point of focus.

Undeterred, Trixie plunged on. “Dan said to tell you he'd be happy to take your place watching the purses.”

His attention captured, Mart regarded her through narrow eyes. “Oh, he did, did he?”

“Why not? He's had plenty of experience.”

It took only a moment for Mart's good humour to return. “He's done it more than once, I take it?”

They both watched Dan across the room as he picked up a drink at the bar. Trixie smiled affectionately. “It's a calling. Most guys just act sucky.”

Mart laughed without mirth. “You wouldn't be referring to me, would you?”

“Of course not! Especially since you're about to get out there and ask someone to dance.”

“I am?”

“Yes, you are. Or...”

“Or what?” Mart asked, frowning as Trixie turned a speculative glance to a point somewhere over his shoulder.

“Or you might want to sit the next one out.” Trixie smiled as Diana joined them, fresh from her dance with the Greek god. “Hello, Di!”

Without asking permission, Diana took a long drink from Trixie's glass. Closing her eyes in relief, she gently eased her feet out of her frighteningly high heels.

“Better?” Mart asked.

“Much,” Diana agreed, eyes still closed.

Mart and Trixie exchanged amused glances. “I needed a break, too,” Trixie said, and kicked off her own shoes.

This forced Di to open her eyes and laugh. “Sure, you did. Good grief, Trixie! This is my third break, and I bet it's only your first. How do you do it?”

“Do tell,” Mart encouraged. “Secret nights of marathon training? Caffeine high? Dr. Scholl's insoles?”

Trixie snorted and thought about her throbbing feet. “Certainly not the insoles. But a caffeine high never hurts.”

Diana, who was taking a second sip of Trixie's drink, blushed and pushed the drink back toward her friend. “Sorry,” she apologized.

Trixie slid the drink back toward her. “I've had plenty. Help yourself.”

Fortified by sugar and caffeine, Diana asked, “So, why are you taking a break? Half the guys here are lined up, waiting to dance with you.”

“They are not,” Trixie protested, her accompanying arm gesture coming dangerously close to knocking over the glass a waiter was setting beside her.

“From the gentleman in the far corner,” the waiter said in response to her puzzled look.

“What is it?” Trixie asked, suspicion stamped on her freckled face.

“I told him you'd been ordering water or Coke. He opted for Coke,” he added unnecessarily, looking at the dark beverage.

Trixie turned away from the young blond man who had nodded at her, then joined his waiting friends.

“Thank you,” she told the waiter as he left.

“Hmmm. Not bad,” Diana commented, still watching the man across the room. “Have you danced with him?”

“I don't think so,” Trixie replied, knowing full-well she had not. She pushed the drink aside. “Oh! Justin's playing another good song!” She thrust her feet back into her shoes and began moving her body to the beat of another eighties pop tune.

Before she could desert them, Mart asked, “You're on a first name basis with the deejay?” He glanced at the trendy man in charge of the music. Even from across the room, light flashed and reflected off the myriad of earrings he wore.

Trixie laughed at the pained expression on Mart's face. “You bet I am. How else do you think we could manage such great music tonight?” Ignoring Mart's obvious opinion of the greatness of the music, Trixie assured him, “And the best is yet to come. Right, Di?”

Diana nodded, her dark hair swinging. “He said it wouldn't be long. That's why I took a break now.”

Mart's face fell. “There's more?”

Diana patted his hand. “Don't worry. I think you'll enjoy it.”

Hiding a smile, Trixie left the table and was soon lost in the fun of the up-beat music. Several songs later, the deejay caught her eye and nodded. Trixie gathered her partners, and the fun began.

I come home in the morning light,
My mother says “When you gonna live your life right?”

Moving together with shameless shimmying and exaggerated hand actions, the girls quickly caught the attention of not only the spectators, but also the other dancers. Though their movements weren't always perfectly in sync, they moved with such style and obvious enjoyment that their audience was completely captivated. It wasn't long before Trixie, Honey, and Di were the only people dancing.

When the working day is done,
Oh, girls just wanna have fun

Trixie glowed as she threw herself into the dance, her complete enjoyment making any self-consciousness impossible. Pure and simple fun added a breath-taking fizz to her already attractive appearance.

When the song ended, the girls were treated to enthusiastic applause and whistles. Flushed from exertion, they gladly joined the male Bob-Whites and fought their way back to their table.

“Well, Mart, was that worth waiting for?” Trixie asked, her eyes dancing with mischief. Jim stretched his arm against the backrest of her chair, but Trixie was leaning forward, too keyed up to relax.

Mart reluctantly directed his attention away from Diana. “I'm not sure. I'm beginning to think you're a bad influence on your friends,” he teased.

Brian snorted. “You're just figuring this out now? Have you forgotten our teenage years?”

“True,” Mart conceded. “But Trixie certainly wasn't teaching them any moves like that back then!”

“I'll have you know I've done plenty of dancing since high school, Martin Belden,” Diana said tartly, tossing her hair as she turned away from him. Mart frowned in confusion at the unexpected sting behind her words, but was distracted by Honey's legendary tact.

“And, as for our teenage years, didn't she teach Dan to dance?” Honey's eyes twinkled. “Who knows? Maybe she's been leading us down unwholesome paths for years!”

Jim pushed back his chair and held out a hand to Trixie. He smiled down at her, and the noise of their squabbling friends disappeared. “May I have this dance?”

She placed her hand in his, feeling as if they were the only people in the room. It wasn't until they were on the dance floor, and she was in his arms, that she recognized the song to which they were dancing.

I've never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight

She focused suspicious blues eyes on him and detected the faint smirk of victory. Amused, she asked, “So, how much did you give Justin to play this song?”

Jim's smile grew and he pulled her closer. “It was worth every penny,” he whispered in her ear.

The lady in red is dancing with me
Cheek to cheek
There's nobody here
It's just you and me
It's where I wanna be
But I hardly know this beauty by my side
I'll never forget the way you look tonight

Laying her cheek on Jim's chest, Trixie had to agree. The song ended all too soon for both of them. Reluctant to release her, Jim kept his hand firmly on the small of her back.

“Thirsty?”

“Would you like a drink?”

Speaking at the same time, they stopped abruptly and laughed.

“Let's try this again. Ready for a drink?” Jim asked.

They pressed through the crowed with ease, laughing when they reached their destination. Instead of avoiding their friends, they found Diana seated at the bar, awaiting an order of drinks.

Jim started to approach her, but Trixie laid her hand on his arm to stop him. He looked back at her in confusion, but her attention was on the young man seated beside Diana.

“Who is he?” Jim asked, his eyes narrow with suspicion.

Although her only response was an indifferent shrug, Trixie's mind was on full-alert. There's something not right about him, her subconscious warned, though for the life of her, Trixie couldn't say why. She watched as he attempted to engage Diana in conversation. Body language speaking volumes, Diana answered his question curtly and turned away, clutching her purse and moving as far from him as possible. The man, however, was not deterred. Seemingly amused by Diana's reluctance to enter into conversation, he tried again, his raucous laugh rising above the noise of the crowd. Trixie felt Jim stiffen, and instinctively held him back. For reasons she couldn't explain, Trixie wasn't ready to interrupt the conversation. Diana rebuffed the man's second attempt at conversation with a clipped and obviously non-encouraging response, tapping her fingernails impatiently as she waited for the bartender to return and finish filling her order. Angered, the stocky man seized Diana's hand and roughly pulled her to face him.

His red-hot temper flaring, Jim crossed the distance between them in two steps. In one motion, he forcibly removed the man's hand from Diana's arm and placed himself between Diana and her admirer. Out of nowhere, Mart, Brian, and Dan appeared to stand beside Jim.

The man rose to his feet, belligerence evident in his face and stance. Recognition of the cold fury in the eyes of the male Bob-Whites quickly overcame his inclination to pursue the matter, and with an arrogant swagger, he sidled away from the bar and disappeared into the crowd.

After one look at Diana's ashen face, Trixie was content to leave the decision of whether or not to pursue the forward man to the others. Supporting her friend with a strong arm, she led Diana back to their table, where they were met by a bewildered Honey.

“I came back from the restroom, and everyone was gone. What happened?” Noticing Diana's shaking hands, Honey's brow furrowed in concern. “What happened, Di?”

“It was nothing,” Diana protested, but her unsteady voice betrayed her.

“It wasn't nothing,” Trixie asserted, and laid her hand over her friend's.

Diana's violet eyes were troubled. “I hope the guys don't do anything rash. I'm sure he didn't mean any harm...”

Honey's patience was waning. “Who didn't mean any harm?”

“Just this guy at the bar. I told him I wasn't interested, but he kept talking to me. I don't know. Maybe he was being friendly.”

Trixie snorted. “I don't think he was interested in friendship, Di. If you ask me, there was something off about him.”

“Well, the guys certainly seemed to think so.” Diana frowned. “How did they know?”

“How did we know what?” Dan asked, sliding into the seat beside Diana.

Jim and Brian took seats beside Trixie and Honey, and Mart sat down across from Di.

“That the guy at the bar was a creep,” Honey supplied. “You certainly didn't mention it before I went to powder my nose.” Her voice held a hint of recrimination.

Brian put his arm around her shoulders and drew her to him. “I have no idea. I was watching for you, when Dan and Mart started acting funny. When they got up, I decided I'd better go along.”

All attention turned to Dan and Mart. “I noticed him hassling some girls at the bar earlier tonight,” Dan supplied.

“And he's been watching Di all night,” Mart said. He searched Diana's face. “Are you sure you're okay?” he asked, his blue eyes still concerned.

“I'm fine,” Diana declared. “And I don't want to hear any more about it. We're here to have fun, right?”

“Right,” Honey agreed, remembering that she and Di had suggested the evening out for the sole purpose of cheering up Trixie.

At that moment, the bartender arrived with the drinks Di had ordered. Placing a glass in front of each of them, he said, “This round is on the house. I'm sorry about the trouble at the bar. By the time I noticed the problem, your friends were already taking care of it.” He caught Jim's eye. “Security saw him leave, and they'll make sure he doesn't bother you again.”

Diana smiled at the attractive middle-aged man. “Thank you. I'm sorry to be such a bother.”

The bartender shook his head. “No bother at all. Have a good night, folks.”

Eager to put the unpleasantness behind them, Diana raised her glass. “Here's to good music, good friends, and to dancing to good music with good friends.” She caught Trixie's eyes. “Past and present.”

Trixie blinked back tears and raised her own glass. “To Maria Mendez. May you dance to your heart's content.” The ring of glass on glass filled her ears as she focused on the happy smiles of her friends. Trixie thought she noticed Jim stiffen, but when she turned to him, he was pushing back his chair and drawing Diana to her feet.

“Speaking of dancing with good friends, I don't believe I've had the honour of dancing with you yet tonight.” Jim's frank, charming grin was enough to help steady Diana's still shaky nerves.

“We should fix that,” she agreed.

Trixie smiled at their retreating forms. “Jim has the right idea,” she declared. “I'm definitely ready to dance with a friend.” She grinned wickedly. “And definitely not in the mood to dance with a brother. Dan?”

Dan set down his glass of dark ale, laughing as Mart and Brian rolled their eyes. “What can I say? Definitely.”

The song was neither fast nor slow, but Trixie didn't protest when Dan held her loosely, as if for a slow dance.

“Diana seems to be okay,” Dan commented, glancing past Trixie to watch Di and Jim.

Trixie shrugged. “She's always been a good actress.”

Continuing to watch his friends, he asked, “You think she's acting?”

“I think she wants to make sure we all have a good time tonight,” Trixie countered.

“You mean she wants you to have a good time.”

Trixie sighed. “You're right. We were having so much fun today, and I ended up talking about Maria a little. Honey and Di seemed to think dancing would be...”

“Good for all of us,” Dan finished. “And they were right.” He grazed the delicate sleeve of her dress with his finger tips. “It's good to remember her, Trixie.”

Trixie nodded, a pensive expression on her face. “I've tried so hard not to think about her. Because of the nightmares. It just seems strange to think about her, and not be thinking about how she died. For the longest time, the only way I could remember her was in that warehouse. Today, I remembered her dancing.”

She glanced past Dan's shoulder and saw that Mart had finally made his move, and had cut in on Jim and Di's dance. Honey was tucked snugly in Brian's arms, and glowed with contentment.

The song ended, and a new one began, but neither Trixie nor Dan made a move to leave the dance floor.

Sweet dreams are made of this
Who am I to disagree?
Travel the world and the seven seas
Everybody's looking for something

The music resonated with her somewhat melancholy spirits, and they danced in silence. At the thought of sweet dreams, she couldn't suppress a grimace. I'd settle for no dreams. And what about Diana? What will she dream tonight? Dan moved a little closer to her, and she tried to thrust aside her maudlin thoughts as she leaned her cheek against his chest.

The lyrics of the song washed over her. Well, I've certainly travelled the seven seas, and then some. Have I found what I was looking for? She recalled the thrill of dancing with Jim, and the knowledge that he was still attracted to her. Unexpected warmth coursed through her, and she knew that she had, indeed, found something special.

At the end of the song, Jim, Mart, and Di joined them.

“Well, Dan? Aren't you going to ask me to dance?” Diana teased playfully, and linked her arm through his.

Dan sighed. “I was, but this song...”

“You're not up for a fast dance? Where's your sense of adventure?” Di demanded, and gave his arm a tug.

“She's right, Dan. Where's your sense of adventure?” Trixie echoed, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You may as well dance,” Jim told him. “Once they gang up on you, you don't have a chance.”

“It's true,” Di agreed cheerfully. “Plus, you know you want to.”

Dan gave in with good grace, and was soon engrossed in matching Diana's moves.

Trixie and Jim watched with amusement. “He's pretty good,” Jim commented. “What was he worried about?”

“Oh, he's a good enough dancer.” Trixie's eyes remained on the dark, handsome couple. “He just doesn't enjoy it very much.”

“Really?” Jim questioned. “He didn't seem to mind dancing with you.”

Trixie grinned and tucked her arm through his. “That's different. It's much easier to sweep a girl off her feet during a slow dance.”

“It is, is it?” The spark of jealousy Jim had ruthlessly suppressed while Dan and Trixie danced resurfaced, stronger than ever.

“Definitely. And I should know.”

“Oh?” Jim bit back the cutting response on the tip of his tongue.

“There's something incredibly sweet about a guy bribing a deejay to play a romantic slow song, and then making a girl feel like she's the only person in the room.” Trixie's frank blue eyes held his stormy green gaze, and watched as the irritation disappeared.

He pulled her close and leaned down to whisper in her ear, “You really enjoy making me jealous, don't you?”

Trixie's heart skipped a beat at the intensity of his expression. “You handled the jealousy all by yourself. I do, however, enjoy watching your face when you realize you're being an idiot.” A small, shy smile played over her face. “It's kind of cute.”

“I'm glad one of us enjoys it,” Jim muttered, but Trixie could tell that deep-down, he didn't mind at all.

When Jim and Trixie returned to their table, they found the rest of their friends arguing companionably over a tray of appetizers.

“Leave some for the rest of us!” Diana admonished, and lightly slapped Mart's wandering hands.

Mart shook his head. “I have never seen anyone put away that many mozza sticks. How do you do it, Di?”

Di popped the last bite of the gooey, cheesy treat into her mouth. “Trixie has her dancing, I have my mozza sticks. And I don't think either of us indulges in our reprehensible dissipations very often. I can't remember the last time I went out for appetizers, and I bet Trixie hasn't danced for ages. Right, Trix?”

Distracted, Trixie responded without thinking. “Well, I did go dancing a few months ago, but since I was trying to seduce an arms dealer, I'm not counting it.”

Conversation at the table halted for a moment as her friends digested this information, but no one had the strength to comment.

Mart cocked his head to the side and studied Diana, looking for all the world like his almost-twin. “Reprehensible dissipations?” he asked, a pleased smile on his face.

Diana blushed and averted her eyes. “I've been reading too much Jane Austen lately. After about three books, I start talking in Austen-eze.” She looked back at Mart tentatively, relieved to observe that he was content to let the matter rest.

Conversation around the table picked up, but Trixie was oblivious. Her attention was focused on a stocky young man at the bar.

“Looks like Jim didn't give the security guard enough money,” Dan observed in a low voice.

Trixie nodded, her focus trained on the unpleasant man. “He's up to something,” she muttered. Though his stance was casual, it was obvious that he was watching someone. “Can you tell who he's looking at?” Trixie asked, trying to follow his line of sight without being obvious. From his position across from her, Dan had a better vantage point.

“Two girls that he tried to pick up about an hour ago,” Dan said shortly.

Trixie grimaced. “Some people just don't know when to give up.”

They watched the bar in silence, ignoring the conversation swirling around their table.

“I don't like this,” Trixie said suddenly. “There's something in his eyes that I just don't like.”

“What do you want to do?” Dan asked, putting his head close to hers.

Trixie gnawed her bottom lip, thinking. “I think maybe we should have a talk with Mr. Creepy.”

“Talk, or 'talk'?” Dan asked, surreptitiously cracking his knuckles.

Trixie's lips quirked. “The first kind. For now.”

Dan nodded. “Let's do this.”

With a whispered, “We'll be right back,” to Honey, Trixie excused herself from the table and followed Dan to the bar. They slid into the empty bar stools on either side of the creep.

Dan nodded shortly to the bartender, letting him know that everything was under control.

“Hey,” the creep said, his tone belligerent, his words slurred. “You can't make me leave. It's a free country.” He turned his attention from Dan to Trixie. “You're kind of cute. Not as hot as the raven, but you're okay.”

“Gee, thanks,” Trixie said. She leaned in close to him, her eyes hard. “It would be best for everyone if you left now. Alone.”

“It's a free country,” he repeated. “You gonna make me?”

Trixie and Dan exchanged glances. “If you stay here, are you going to leave the ladies alone?”

He snorted. “I didn't come here for the food. If I want to talk to a woman, I will. If she comes home with me, so much the better.” He stared at them defiantly.

Trixie sighed. He was right. Technically, he wasn't doing anything wrong. But she couldn't shake the feeling that he was a dangerous man, and that if he stayed at the bar, something bad would happen. In a snap decision, she leaned forward.

“Maybe you're right,” she said. “Maybe you're a perfectly nice guy just looking to meet a girl.” Her eyes hardened. “But I don't think so. I think that you're trouble, and I think that you should leave now.”

“Hey!” he protested, but Trixie's hand was on his shoulder, pinching. He winced as the sharp pain penetrated his alcoholic haze. “Okay,” he muttered. “I'm going.”

When he didn't stand up fast enough, Dan dragged him to a standing position. Hand still hovering over his neck, Trixie stayed on his other side to flank him, and together they propelled him toward the exit. Once he was through the door, they let go. He stumbled forward, rubbing his neck.

“You two are crazy, you know that?” he asked. Still muttering darkly, he took off down the darkened street.

Trixie and Dan watched until he rounded a corner. “Think he'll be back?” Dan asked.

“I got his nerve pretty good,” Trixie told him. “I don't think he's going anywhere other than his bed tonight.

Dan nodded. “You want to tell me what that was all about?”

Trixie shrugged, staring into the inky night. “I just had a feeling.”

“A feeling,” Dan repeated.

“He was bad news,” Trixie said, her voice firm. “I don't know how, but I know.”

She could feel Dan studying her. Trixie wanted to explain, but couldn't even really explain it to herself. All she knew was that the man was trouble, and that she wanted him far, far away. Finally, Dan nodded. “Okay,” he said.

“That's it?” Trixie asked, surprised. “My actions were totally unjustifiable, and you think it’s okay?”

Dan shrugged. “I trust you. And I didn't like him, either. Personally, I wouldn't have minded having the other kind of talk with him.”

Trixie laughed and turned back into the bar, pulling Dan along with her.

Back at the chalet, Trixie sat rigidly on the couch as she watched her friends out of the corner of her eye.

“Stop stealing my drink!” Diana exclaimed, snatching a glass away from Mart.

“Oops,” Mart said, a sheepish grin on his face. He glanced down at his own empty glass. “I got them mixed up?” he offered.

Di rolled her eyes. “Yes, I'm sure you thought this glass, which, I might add, is covered in lipstick, was yours.”

Honey stepped in, holding a bottle of soda. “Refill, Mart?” she asked, laughing as Diana pointedly put her drink on the table as far away from Mart as she could reach.

Dan and Brian joined them, carrying a tray of chips and dip.

Through it all, Jim sat in the easy chair, his face stony.

Trixie jumped as Dan settled on the other side of her and Diana on the couch. Her eyes darted to Honey and Brian on the love seat, and then back to Jim. He hadn't moved, and his jaw was tighter than Trixie had ever remembered seeing it.

“So,” Diana said, shifting closer to the end of the couch and pulling Mart with her so that everyone would have more room on the couch, “was it worth a night of dancing to see Trixie and Honey and I in action?”

Mart raised an eyebrow. “If it's action you want, you're in luck, Di,” he said, eager to dispel some of the tension even he could feel. “I believe we have several movies to choose from, all of the action variety.”

Honey groaned. “We walked into that one. But I suppose it wouldn't hurt us to watch one of their movies.”

“It also won't hurt if I bring a book to help me through all those car chase scenes,” Di retorted, and left to find her book.

They settled in to watch the move, but Trixie's concentration lasted only a few minutes. Jim was mad. And he wasn't talking. The longer she sat and pretended to watch the movie, the more uncomfortable she grew. The thought of Jim being upset with her was enough to cause a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, but she couldn't bring herself to confront him. Not in front of all of their friends. She swallowed, thinking of the disaster at the clubhouse on Christmas Eve, and knew that she would do anything to avoid a similar scene. She and Jim needed to talk, but not until he had calmed down.

Her mind made up, Trixie noiselessly left the entertainment room, stopping in her room long enough to change into a bathing suit. Just as quietly, she slipped out of the French doors and sank into the pleasantly warm hot tub. She wiggled until the jetted water pulsed against her back in just the right spots, and tried to relax. It took considerable effort, but she thrust aside thoughts of what Jim might be upset about. With Jim, it was best not to make assumptions. And, based on his behaviour at the bar, she was fairly certain that he would talk to her when he was ready.

More at ease, she was able to enjoy the beauty of the nature surrounding her. Tall pines stretched to touch the midnight sky, their branches heavy from a recent snowfall. She searched in vain for the stars that had greeted them on the night of their arrival, but the cloud cover was complete. Instead of the individual pin pricks of stars, the sky was bathed in a hazy glow, the reflection of the town lights.

She sank further into the water.

As her mind cleared, her sense of hearing improved. The voices from the neighbouring chalet drifted thickly through the barrier of trees. Closer still was the sound of the movie playing in the Bob-White's chalet. Further away was the distant wailing of a car alarm. Closer again was the unmistakable sound of footsteps crunching in the powdery snow.

Her body perfectly still, Trixie listened as the cautious footsteps crossed the deck and came to a halt directly behind her. Her stomach once again a mess of unsettled nerves, Trixie pivoted slowly to see two good-sized bare feet just outside of the hot tub. In excruciating slow motion, her gaze slowly travelled higher, taking in the well-formed masculine legs covered with a smattering of hair.

She turned back to the hot tub, leaned back, and closed her eyes.

“Come on in. The water's fine.”