#listen to me you can bet they have all co-ordinated outfits

[caveiratimida]

In honour of the spooky season and the two outfits I found that felt very 80's and very appropriate for this father and son duo.

[artificialqueens]

Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 11 (Branjie) (and background everyone) - Ortega

a/n: omg HI u lovely lot i’m so sorry this update took so long!!! thank you all so much for your lovely feedback on the last chapter and for being so patient with me. hope this chapter’s worth the wait- it’s BLACKPOOL BABEYYYYY!!! will Vanessa and Brooke get that perfect score???

fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.

And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.

***

21st November 2020

“Someone was havin’ some nasty-ass sex this mornin’.”

Vanessa watches Crystal almost spit out the water she’s currently glugging down after their full cast dress rehearsal. If she hadn’t just finished her own bottle Vanessa would’ve probably done the same. Akeria’s comment is casual but Vanessa knows her enough to work out its intentions; she wants to know who’s banging, specifically who did so in the last eight hours.

Crossing her legs, Vanessa thinks back to the day she’s spent with Brooke Lynn so far. Obviously the events of the morning are still playing on her mind, fresh and still searing hot like lava. But after that it was almost as if they had been on another date. They’d headed out into the crisp, bright morning and grabbed breakfast at a nearby cafe, where the tables were sticky and the menus were stained and the ketchup bottle had rings of old sauce around the outside. They had both ordered matching fry-ups and Brooke had tried black pudding for the first time, claiming it didn’t taste as bad as it looked.

“If we get picked for the tour just wait. I’m gonna make you try haggis when we get to Glasgow. It’s fuckin’ horrible,” Vanessa had teased her, Brooke fake-gagging and making her laugh.

Then they’d had a walk along the beach, the cold stinging their faces and the wind whipping at their hair and making Vanessa wish they could just hold hands without the fear of being caught by someone videoing them on their phone. It had still been nice to share it with Brooke, though, and before they’d had to be at rehearsals they’d gone to the arcade and played on the penny falls machines, Vanessa laughing at Brooke as she got way too excited because “it’s like real life Tipping Point!”.

And now Brooke is sitting beside her, calm and composed as Akeria brings up the sex that Vanessa is still recovering from which was apparently so noisy and loud that it managed to wake her up.

“I didn’t hear anything,” Gigi says all too quickly, which piques Vanessa’s interest and makes her wonder why she’s so quick to rush to denial.

“Nope. Neither,” Jan shakes her head, the clear attempt to make her face look impassive not fooling Vanessa in the slightest. Narrowing her eyes, Vanessa casts an eye over a guilty-faced Monique and Monet.

She’s starting to question whether or not she and Brooke were the only ones that got some action this morning.

Brooke herself has got a small smirk on her lips as she opens her mouth to speak. “How did you guys not hear that? It was so loud. Sounded like somebody having the best sex of their life.”

Vanessa almost chokes on her own tongue in her desperate attempt not to react. Akeria is nodding emphatically.

“This morning? I must’ve been out for my run,” Jackie shrugs nonchalantly. She’s got the best poker face out of them all.

“It was somebody really whiny,” Brooke adds casually. Vanessa slowly turns her head and narrows her eyes at her. Brooke raises her eyebrows, tilts her head innocently. “You hear it, ‘Ness?”

Vanessa kind of wants to melt because she that’s how she feels every time Brooke calls her that and she loves it, but also she’s winding her up too much and Brooke must know Vanessa wants to clap back about how Brooke wasn’t complaining at the time, or how whiny she’d been when Vanessa had been teasing her with her fingers and whispering in her ear.

“Jeez, I mean, I must’ve been in the shower.”

“No, I think you would’ve been able to hear it.”

“What name’d they call out?” Asia shrugs. Brooke’s reaction is visceral- Vanessa watches her give a sort of panicked cough.

“What?”

“Well. You girls hear ‘em yell a name? That’ll give a lot away.”

Most of the girls are silent and holding their breath. Crystal, Gigi, Jan, Jackie, Monet, Monique, Vanessa, each one hoping their own worst or best-kept-secret isn’t spilled. Even Brooke who was gleefully winding Vanessa up moments ago has fallen mute and is looking at Akeria quietly. Vanessa’s brain is flicking through a rolodex of snapshots of the morning she and Brooke shared, trying to pinpoint any specific moment where either of them had begged the other just a little too loudly.

Akeria, for her part, gives a sniff and a shrug. “Hmm. Nah. Just moaning.”

“Well whoever it was, I hope they had some lovely sex,” Crystal babbles, her face guilty as sin as she finishes buckling up her dance shoes. She’s laughing nervously as she desperately tries to move the conversation along. “God, when will this band be ready? Like, how long does it take to tune a trumpet? Right?!”

Monique enthusiastically jumps in and agrees, and the conversation is dropped. Although Vanessa still tilts her head at Brooke questioningly and, as the girls become embroiled in a new conversation, she leans into Brooke’s side and whispers to her.

“If you think I ain’t gonna make you pay for that later, you’re wrong,” she murmurs, keeping her eyes trained on the other girls.

“Cute that you think you’re going to make me pay for anything, it took me what, two minutes to make you crack?” Brooke replies, and Vanessa can hear the smile in her voice. Vanessa, once again, can’t resist (it’s becoming a theme) and she turns her head to meet Brooke’s eyes, the twinkle in them still sparkling relentlessly.

“Whiny? Really, bitch?”

Brooke tips her head back casually. “I know we’re dancing to Let’s Get Loud but you know that’s just a song title, not an instruction, right?”

Vanessa tries to stifle a giggle, attempting to maintain her unimpressed charade. When Brooke looks at her again the endeavour fails, and they both end up laughing together. As their laughter dies down, Brooke sighs and Vanessa watches her pick a little at her outfit. They’re both in co-ordinated showgirl costumes- Vanessa’s green, Brooke’s pink- and even though Brooke objectively looks incredible Vanessa can tell she doesn’t feel entirely comfortable.

“Hey. You good?”

Brooke sighs. “This is just very…out of my comfort zone. I’m a TV presenter, God, I’m pretty sure the BBC would rather I was just a floating head half the time. No limbs, no boobs, no butt, no skin. Maybe a skeleton, actually. I’m just not used to getting my legs out. Or…anything out, really.”

Vanessa feels herself frowning in concern, a little embarrassed at how quickly she rushes to boost Brooke’s confidence. “Hey, listen. If you don’t feel like you’re fuckin’ sex on legs after this morning- shit, scratch that, every damn day- then I’m not doin’ my job right. You look perfect.”

Under the orange lights of the ballroom and the sparkle of the glitterball Vanessa swears she sees Brooke blush a little. She smiles and touches Vanessa’s arm gently. “Remind me what I did to deserve you?”

“Nothin’, you just ran off with my heart on that induction day an’ never gave it back,” Vanessa sticks her tongue out at her. Brooke grins and Vanessa wants nothing more than to lean in and kiss her right there and then, in fact she swears that Brooke’s edging closer to her and maybe they could just give each other a small kiss, maybe everyone else would be too distracted, maybe-

“And here we have one couple who keeps saying that they’re Definitely Not Romantically Involved With Each Other At All,” comes a voice, and Vanessa realises who it is as Yvie sits herself down on the chair beside her, filming a video on her phone. Vanessa covers her face in embarrassment.

“Delete that,” Brooke says, and just by her tone Vanessa can tell she’s rolling her eyes.

“Why? Too on the nose?” Yvie laughs, and as Vanessa looks up again she can see Brooke fixing her with an unimpressed glare. Yvie sighs, sulks and stops filming. “Fine! Fine, God. But you know if you had nothing to hide, you wouldn’t want me to delete it.”

“Listen, you just think everybody is as loved up as you are because you’re so happy with Scarlet. How is she, by the way? She coming up to watch you or has she got filming?”

Vanessa relaxes, impressed with Brooke’s ability to steer the conversation off course as Yvie is happily distracted by talking about her girlfriend. While Yvie speaks about Scarlet and gushes about how amazing she is and how lucky she feels to be with her and how she never thought she’d find a girlfriend through a TV dance show, Brooke makes sure to bump her knee a little bit against Vanessa’s with each new compliment, a little gesture that speaks so many words without Brooke having to say anything at all and lights Vanessa up from the inside out, so much so that she feels like the glitterball hanging from the ceiling, sparkling and dazzling.

Rehearsals soon end and the girls all move into the green room backstage to chat about nothing in particular, laugh at the top of their lungs like teenagers at the back of a bus, and eat tiny amounts of pizza that they’ll finish after their performance when it’s cold. Vanessa’s heart is so full she feels as if it might burst because she’s here, she gets to dance in the tower ballroom on the biggest TV dance show in the country. Okay, she’s danced here before- for competitions and showcases- but tonight she’s getting to do it with Brooke. Vanessa feels silly for having that mean so much to her. They’ve only been seeing each other for about a fortnight and she shouldn’t feel this deeply, but every time she tries to self-regulate and pull her feelings back Brooke ruins her plans with a smile, or a burst of laughter, or a squeeze of her shoulder or her leg that turns Vanessa to jelly and puts her right back in her feelings again.

Again. As if she could ever possibly be out of them when she’s with Brooke.

It’s not long until the audience all file into their seats and the ballroom lights go down, and Vanessa’s heart is almost beating out of her chest as Brooke gives her a quick kiss on the cheek for luck in the dark of the heavy curtains backstage. As she makes her way to the middle of the dancefloor with the other pros ready to begin their dance, Vanessa can’t even bring herself to wonder if anyone saw the moment they’d just shared because under the hot yellow lights and the huge glittering orb hanging from the ceiling and surrounded by the ornate gold that seemed to decorate every inch of the ballroom, Vanessa simply feels giddy and light just like any other infatuated girl.

“Live from the Tower Ballroom…this is Strictly Come Dancing!”

The music from the band blares, the audience breaks out in cheers, and even though she’s in Blackpool Vanessa feels as if she’s home. The pro dance this week is full of joy and sparkle, and as she dances Vanessa’s smile reflects on the faces of the five other girls she’s dancing with. It’s not her performance smile, nor is it a fake one; her face is radiating genuine joy, sunbeams that she hopes light up even the living rooms of whoever’s watching. When Brooke and the other celebrities join them for the last part of their dance Vanessa gravitates towards her and they snap together in hold. She can feel the excitement pulsing through Brooke’s veins as she takes her hand, and they’re smiling at each other with such ferocity that they end up giggling for the last section of the dance. On the final beat of the song they all freeze together, and Vanessa rests her head on Brooke’s chest as she relaxes. There’s golden confetti raining down on them and a little piece nestles itself in Brooke’s blonde locks of hair that Vanessa never wants her to brush out.

“Blackpool,” she hears Brooke murmur above her, so nearly inaudible she’s panting so much.

Vanessa looks up at her, cheeks hurting from her grin. “Blackpool.”

The girls all run off to get changed into their individual dance costumes they had worn before. Vanessa is glad that Brooke seems a little more confident in her outfit; she doesn’t know whether her new-found self-assuredness is down to Vanessa’s pep talk earlier or the adrenaline rush of performing, but she’ll take happy Brooke over nervous Brooke whatever the reason. Brooke looks the best out of all the girls- okay, Vanessa knows she’s biased, and in fairness everyone looks amazing. Crystal and Gigi are done up as little astronauts for their Salsa to Cosmic Girl, huge perspex space helmets over their heads with their faces covered in glittery highlight and little stars. Asia and Akeria look like early 00’s girlband members in matching green camouflage cargo pants and black bodysuits. They’re doing some sort of cool thing with aerosol cans for their Commercial dance to Scandalous and Vanessa’s promised Kiki that she’ll get into a good position in the auditorium to watch them both.

Although as everybody begins to dance, Vanessa slowly becomes less excited and more nervous. She mentally repeats each couple’s score in her head like some sort of meditational mantra- Yvie and Jaida 29, Akeria and Asia 37, Jan and Jackie 36. They range from unthreatening to panic-inducing, and as she and Brooke make their way backstage while Crystal and Gigi’s VT plays, Vanessa can feel the anxiety climbing in her throat, can feel her feet shaking in her shoes with every step.

“Hey,” Brooke stops suddenly in the darkness, her tone concerned and a little worried frown set on her face. “I can feel you worrying. What’s the matter?”

Brooke is beginning to thread her hand in Vanessa’s own, and she accepts. She already feels it grounding her, but her breathing is still shallow and her stomach is still in knots. “Just these scores…fuck, Brooke Lynn, I want us to be on top so bad. I want you to be on top so bad.”

“Yeah, you seemed to like it earlier,” Brooke winks at her, as Vanessa instantly realises what she’s said. She splutters a laugh, clamps her hand over her mouth in case they’re picked up over the microphones even though Vanessa knows there’s no way they could be. Brooke’s smile softens as she takes Vanessa’s other hand, swings them a little.

“Look. Do I care about being top of the leaderboard? Sure! But this, this whole thing has become less about the competition for me and more about getting to dance with you every week. Knowing we can go out there and be amazing no matter what the judges say, knowing I can showcase your amazing choreo and bring it to life, and being able to show you off and watch you be talented and incredible and clever. If we get the scores, we get the scores. But even if we don’t I want you to know that there’s nobody else I’d rather dance with, nobody else I’d rather be sharing this journey with. You’ve made it so special for me just because you’re you.”

Vanessa feels herself lean into Brooke’s touch as she takes a little curl that’s framing her face and tucks it behind her ear. She can feel something tumble and fall gently inside her- maybe she’s developing more feelings or maybe it’s a barrier breaking, she doesn’t know- and in that moment she throws caution to the wind and pulls Brooke in, their lips meeting softly as Crystal and Gigi start their dance through the curtain beside them. Vanessa’s heart thuds in her ribcage as she thinks about the fact that that’s all that’s separating them from the ballroom and the cameras and the millions of viewers. If the curtain were to fall…

She melts into the kiss and she can feel her anxieties melting away; Brooke is a gentle wave on the shore and Vanessa is sand and the occasional broken piece of shell, shifting under her and allowing herself to be drawn in. As Brooke pulls away Vanessa pouts her lips in disappointment, so Brooke gives her one, two, three little pecks before stepping back for good this time.

“Better?”

Vanessa can feel her pulse racing, but this time it’s excited nerves rather than anxious ones. She fixes Brooke with a little smile. “Yeah. Better.”

“Okay. That being said, let’s go get that top spot.”

The audience cheer Crystal and Gigi, and Vanessa’s skin prickles as she realises she and Brooke Lynn are dancing soon. They make their way to the wings where they’re met by a runner who eventually shows them out onto the floor. Vanessa takes a deep breath in her spot on the lacquered wood underneath a spotlight. She looks over to Brooke who’s on a little plinth, all lit up with a wall of halogen bulbs behind her, and gives her a little wink and a thumbs up. Brooke looks just as nervous as she is, but the smile she gives Vanessa goes some way to reassure her.

And then, a few seconds which feel like minutes later, the commentator’s voice booms overhead.

“Dancing the Cha Cha Cha…Brooke Lynn Hytes and Vanessa Mateo!”

The halogen lights behind Brooke blind Vanessa as she looks at her, suddenly confident and poised, a huge smile on her face on the stage. She looks like a real professional. Fuck, Vanessa’s so proud of her.

“Blackpool!” Brooke yells as loud as she can. “Let’s…get…loud!”

Pyro goes off behind the wall of light as the music starts, and the audience screeches as Brooke descends the stairs and practically runs to Vanessa, holding her hands tightly as they start their dance with matching smiles on their faces. A cha cha cha is a technical one, all about the footwork and arms, and they can’t really hide behind their obvious chemistry this time. But they’ve worked hard, so fucking hard, and Brooke can do it without a single mistake, Vanessa knows this.

Vanessa jumps up into a lift, Brooke holding her in her arms and spinning her round and making her giggle involuntarily. Maybe Brooke is right, Vanessa thinks, as she is gently deposited down and they jump back in hold again. Maybe none of this matters any more; the competition, the scores, the TV show. Maybe all this has to be is Vanessa dancing with Brooke and having fun, the pair of them growing closer with every passing second, and Vanessa coming dangerously close to falling for someone again with every passing day.

As Brooke faces forward and Vanessa does the same, then drops to the floor and wiggles her way up Brooke’s legs, it also occurs to her that it could also be about the great fucking sex they’re having. Well, have had. But Vanessa knows there’ll be another time, maybe probably very soon judging from the way Brooke’s now gliding her hands down Vanessa’s body.

She can’t let her concentration wander, however, so Vanessa’s brain is back in the game as they step, twirl each other round, Brooke dips her confidently before they go back to stepping quickly again, twirling effortlessly into a New York. As the horn section from the band blasts, Vanessa gauges the audience reaction. They’re cheering and clapping along and the judges are leaning forward, engaged and impressed. Even Bianca’s got a little smile on her face. In spite of everything, Vanessa feels her heart begin to rise.

“Ain’t nobody gotta tell ya what you gotta do…”

As the song ends, Vanessa holds Brooke’s hand as they whip out their final party piece- Brooke drops to the floor in an effortless split, and the crowd raises the roof. Shangela is screaming from her position behind the judges’ table and Brooke is screaming too as she swings her legs round and stands up, crushes Vanessa in a hug who’s already got her own arms out waiting for it. Vanessa mutters praise into Brooke’s chest and she can feel her planting a kiss to the top of her head in response, their little tradition that she’s glad Brooke hasn’t stopped.

As they cross over to Michelle Vanessa is grateful that Brooke is carrying the interview, as she can hardly speak out of her own gripping nerves. She knows that dance went well, she knows it’s the best they’ve ever done it. So when Michelle hands over to Shangela, Vanessa isn’t sure that she breathes for roughly ten seconds.

“I…thought…” Shangela starts, and Vanessa’s lungs almost give out. “…that that was the best we’ve ever seen you dance, Brooke Lynn.”

The audience erupts and Vanessa looks up at Brooke and beams, squeezing her tightly and refusing to let go. Brooke’s eyes are still on the judges as Shangela’s compliments continue. “Your footwork and your synchronicity with Vanessa…it was all just so, so polished, I mean a lot of celebrities when they come on this show, they can find the syncopation really difficult and you just- I mean it was like asking you to count to ten! You had a great night tonight, well done.”

The audience cheer her comments, and then it’s Kennedy’s turn to give her feedback.

“Yeah, I agree with Shangela. You are at your peak in this competition, and that was your best night yet. That was absolutely flawless, I just…I don’t have anything left to say at this point.”

Vanessa’s breath is heavy and laboured, trying to calm her rising hopes at all this praise Brooke is receiving. After Kennedy is Laganja, and she’s practically on top of the table as she yells about the pair of them, how much chemistry they have and how faultless Brooke’s performance was and how their Cuban breaks were perfection incarnate.

“And if this doesn’t get the score it should-” she finishes, shooting Vanessa’s pulse through the roof with a catapult. “- then I’m leaving the show!”

As the audience laugh and applaud Laganja’s comments, Vanessa feels Brooke’s grip on her waist tighten as it reaches Bianca’s turn. The crowd is silent, and if Vanessa squints she can see Brooke’s rapid breathing beside her.

Come on…come on…

The whole room seems to hold its breath. Bianca’s face is impassive as she opens her mouth to speak. “I couldn’t fault that if I tried.”

Vanessa’s face drops in shock and she feels Brooke lurch beside her, the levels of praise they’re receiving from Bianca Del Rio hardly registering. The audience is almost deafening at this point and Vanessa’s ears are straining to hear the rest of the judge’s comments.

“The Cha Cha Cha…I mean it’s a fun dance, it’s a cheeky dance, but it’s so rarely a showstopper, and that just stole the show. Shangela is right, there are so many things that meant you could’ve butchered that entire dance- hello, you’ve got one of the best Latin specialists in the country coaching you, hard not to be a little intimidated- but you took it all in your stride and it was like watching a fish swim, the effortlessness of it all. But one of the things I loved most about it all was just how much fun the pair of you were having. It was like neither of you seemed to realise that you were dancing in a competitive setting, and it felt as if we were all here to watch you on tour or something. Really well done tonight, Brooke Lynn, you did yourself proud.”

As the crowd claps for them both and Michelle sends them up to the Divinatorium, Vanessa clutches Brooke’s hand tightly. She sneaks a look at her as they run up the stairs and giggles as she finds Brooke’s eyes already on her. As Divina talks to them both and Vanessa feels Akeria squeeze her shoulder from behind her, she can barely concentrate on anything as her whole body vibrates in anticipation. Vanessa does manage to tune in, however, when she hears her name mentioned.

“Bianca did say it must’ve been intimidating for you to have Vanessa coaching you on a Cha Cha Cha- did you feel the pressure this week?” Divina asks Brooke, and Brooke just laughs, puts an arm around Vanessa’s waist and pulls her close.

“I mean there’s always that little bit of pressure when you’ve got someone like Vanessa coaching you, because she’s so talented and perfect at what she does,” Brooke smiles down at her, and Vanessa’s heart feels completely stuffed full of affection. “But she’s never intimidating, and she never puts pressure on me. In fact she puts way more pressure on herself, which she needs to stop doing, because look how well we both did tonight!”

Vanessa feels herself blush and all she can do is wrap another arm around Brooke’s waist as Divina continues to speak.

“Well, Brooke Lynn, I can confirm the judges’ scores are in. Let’s see what they thought.”

And then there’s the all-consuming feeling of holding her breath and gripping Brooke’s side as if she’s her lifeboat. Vanessa’s heart is just going and going and going because maybe, maybe, maybemaybemaybe…

“Will the judges please reveal their scores. Bianca Del Rio.”

“Ten.”

“Kennedy Davenport.”

“Ten!”

“Shangela Wadely.”

“It’s a ten!”

“Laganja Estranja.”

“TEN!”

They have done it. Forty out of forty.

Brooke has wrapped herself around her like an octopus with half its limbs cut off and is screaming in much the same matter. Vanessa can feel her nails dig into her back, a few tears drop down onto her shoulder and something inside her just breaks, and before she knows it she is simply holding Brooke and crying and Brooke is doing the exact same to her. The cheers from the other couples on the balcony turn into awws, and a box of tissues is shoved towards them. Vanessa soon realises that Divina is attempting to talk to her so she takes a tissue, sweeps it under both her eyes quickly.

“Sorry…that was a big reaction, it just meant a lot to the both of us. Brooke Lynn’s been working so hard every week so to get that sort of acknowledgement means the world to me. I just want everyone to think she’s as amazin’ as I do.”

As Divina reads out their voting details then signs them both off, everyone claps and Vanessa takes Brooke’s hand again. This time her grip is gentle as if Brooke will crumble apart on contact. When Brooke pulls her into her dressing room, there’s not the fire and heat that there had been last week; instead they hold each other softly, and Brooke rubs her back slowly while murmuring quiet, affectionate words into her hair in between pressing kisses to her forehead.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” she says after a pause, and Vanessa’s stomach does a bungee jump.

“Stop it,” she replies quietly, if only to deflect from the fact that she’s thinking the exact same thing about Brooke but doesn’t dare say it back; she’s scared to say it out loud because the last time she felt this way about someone it all ended up in heartbreak and hurt and mess.

“It’s true,” Brooke insists simply, but she doesn’t push it or overdo it- her statement is her statement, and Vanessa’s glad she’s letting it be.

The perfect score, being top of the leaderboard, everything Brooke’s said to her tonight- Vanessa’s on cloud nine. That is until the results show is filmed, and one of Vanessa’s worst fears about being on the show comes true.

“I can now reveal that the second couple in the dance-off and joining Yvie and Jaida are…”

Drum beat. Drum beat. Vanessa’s ribcage is tight and constricted, and she daren’t let herself relax even though their scores were so perfect, even though they did exactly what they’d set out to do because maybe their fans could get complacent, maybe they didn’t vote as much this week…

“Monet and Monique.”

Vanessa’s guts feel as if they’re plummeting to the floor. She breaks away from Brooke, cranes her neck and looks over at her friend whose spotlight has changed colour leaving both Monique and Monet bathed in a sickening red. Monique had told her their dance hadn’t gone great- they’d performed directly after her and Brooke, and the pressure of having to follow their perfect score had rattled Monet to the point where she’d made too many basic errors- but Vanessa didn’t for one second think they’d land in the bottom two. Monique catches her eye, gives her a helpless, sorrowful smile, and Vanessa feels her eyes fill with tears.

As the other dancers are led up to the Divinatorium to watch the couples, Vanessa and Akeria gravitate to each other like little magnets, take each other’s hands with grave faces and emotional eyes. Brooke rests a hand on her shoulder and leans down to whisper to her.

“It’ll be alright. Yvie got under 30, God love her. She’s great, but Monet’ll overshadow her. Monique isn’t out, don’t worry.”

Brooke can usually say all the right things to calm Vanessa down, but not this time. She, Akeria and Monique had been so excited the moment they found out they’d all have partners this year, and Vanessa remembers the drunken pact they’d made after the launch show that they’d be the last three standing in the competition, the best of the best. It had been a silly joke, but watching as Monique takes to the floor and holds Monet in her arms, it’s never meant so much to Vanessa to have her friend share this journey with her.

As the music begins and Vanessa watches Monet and Monique glide across the ballroom floor effortlessly as the sparkling glitterball casts its mirrors over their bodies, she feels Brooke wrap her arms around her from behind and rest her chin on her head. Without thinking they fall into a soft sway and even though Vanessa’s heart is still in her mouth- because the two girls can’t leave the competition yet, it’s not their time, and she, Monique and Akeria have to be in the final together- Brooke’s gentle rocking manages to ground her and calm her without her even having to say a single word. Vanessa thinks back to what she had said backstage, how much Brooke had completely lit up her heart, and she wonders if she truly meant it all. The song’s lyrics drift into Vanessa’s consciousness as she watches Monet lift Monique gently, spin her around like she’s the dancer twirling around in a music box.

“What you say you can’t take back, no takebacks, don’t take that back…‘cause your words mean the world to me…”

Vanessa feels like laughing. Ain’t that the truth.

Monet and Monique finish their dance well with only a couple of noticeable faults, and then Jaida and Yvie do their Tango once again. It wasn’t too strong the first time and the clear pressure that comes with being in the bottom doesn’t help Yvie, as she makes a few visible mistakes. If the judges have eyes, Vanessa knows they’ll save Monique and Monet. Then again…stranger things have happened on the show.

Michelle consoles both pairs as they take their places under another spotlight each on the dancefloor. Monique and Monet’s hands are joined together tightly, and Yvie has her arm around Jaida’s shoulders, a light smile of defeat on her lips as if she knows the result already.

“Judges, I am now going to ask for the name of the couple you want to save and take through to Musicals Week next week. Starting with Bianca.”

Bianca shuffles a few papers and fixes both couples with a calm stare that flips Vanessa’s internal organs. “Well Yvie, I think you’ll agree that there were a few mis-steps there that couldn’t really be ignored, and Monet, conversely, you managed to elevate your performance in the dance-off. So tonight, I’m saving Monet and Monique.”

Vanessa feels Akeria squeeze her hand, her grip damp from the nervous sweat on her palm.

“Shangela.”

Shangela frowns, a pained expression on her face. “I mean it’s hard, because both dances had some errors here and there. However I’m going to go with my gut and the person I think deserves to stay and improve is Yvie. So I’m saving Yvie and Jaida.”

Vanessa lets go of Akeria’s hand, brings both of her hands up to cup her cheeks and exhales heavily. As Kennedy is head judge her vote holds the most weight on the panel, and so Michelle next comes to Laganja.  

“Yes, as Shangela said, neither was a perfect dance. But I personally think one couple managed to improve on their initial performance, and so tonight I’m saving Monet and Monique.”

Brooke squeezes Vanessa’s waist and holds her tightly as finally, Kennedy makes to cast her vote. Vanessa feels ill. She can only imagine what’s going through Monique’s mind as she stands in her character shoes, gripping Monet’s hand with her gaze very firmly locked on the floor.

“For me…it comes down to the connection between one couple in particular, and the emotion and the storytelling behind their routine. The couple I’m saving…is Monet and Monique.”

Vanessa melts out of Brooke’s arms and instead turns to hug Akeria, holding her as tightly as she’s holding Vanessa back and feeling her heartbeat through her chest. Vanessa feels Brooke put a light hand between her shoulder blades reassuringly, and the double dose of human contact helps bring Vanessa right down to earth from the rafters her sky-high anxiety levels had perched her up in. When the show ends, Yvie and Jaida share one final dance, and the others are allowed to invade the dancefloor and say goodbye, it’s not the eliminated couple Vanessa runs to but her cherished friend instead. Akeria joins them and the three of them hold each other and shed tears, relief not even being able to cut it.

It’s Yvie’s idea to go for drinks after the show- she’s happy even though she’s been knocked out, though Vanessa thinks that’s got something to do with the fact Scarlet has travelled up to watch her after all. So it’s a pleasant feeling when Vanessa finds herself clambering off the emotional rollercoaster she’s been strapped into all night and instead beginning to take on a more mellow form of happiness induced by the three pornstar martinis she’s managed to knock back so far. Even though they arrived at short notice the dancers and celebrities have all managed to secure a huge booth near the back of Revolution, where it’s dark and private and everyone else is too glammed-up and full of flavoured shots to notice a huddle of TV personalities. Vanessa looks fondly over at Brooke who’s dancing with Yvie, Scarlet, Jaida and Jackie who collectively are making her wonder how they’ve managed to lose the co-ordination and grace they show on TV every Saturday. Gigi and Crystal are on the other side of the booth, sitting close and having what looks to be a deep, meaningful heart to heart, and Jan, Monet and Asia are nowhere to be seen (either smoking area or bathrooms is Vanessa’s best guess).

Vanessa cheers as Monique returns to the booth with Akeria, carrying a stick of shots and a huge fishbowl of purple liquid respectively. The pair of them squash themselves down beside Vanessa and they grab a shot class each, toasting to them all surviving another week in the competition.  

“I can’t lie, my heart was in my damn asshole when Michelle said your name,” Akeria points at Monique, her turn of phrase making Vanessa snort out half her drink.

“Excuse me! You were the one panicking? I was the one that had to dance the damn thing all over again!” Monique clutches at her chest incredulously. Vanessa wiggles her eyebrows at her friend.

“Well ain’t it lucky you and Monet have that connection that managed to save you.”

Akeria jumps on Monique’s bashful expression like a cat on a mouse. “Yeah, how’s that situation goin’? Seems okay by the looks of things.”

“We had a long chat on Tuesday,” Monique brushes a bit of hair out of her face and looks at her lap. “I was honest with my feelings and so was she. Turns out she actually really likes me back. Crazy, ain’t it? My actual real-life celebrity crush likes me like that.”

Vanessa and Akeria squeal excitedly, and Vanessa sips from the fishbowl as Akeria asks where this leaves them both.

“Well, we’re both just focussed on the competition just now. Need to beat both you bitches, don’t we?” Monique sticks her tongue out, tinged blue from all the cocktails she’s been drinking. “But we’ve been doin’ more cute stuff, not just all the nasty shit. She came round to mine the night before we got the train up here an’ we had some wine and watched a movie an’ just talked an’ cuddled.”

“Ugh, puke. I don’t know what’s worse, havin’ to hear about your rehearsal-room bangin’ or havin’ to hear about all the diabetes-inducing shit you do now you’re both all in your feels,” Akeria gags jokingly, and Vanessa chuckles as Monique pushes her friend, unimpressed. Suddenly, something seems to occur to Akeria. “So wait. Was it you two I heard this mornin’ then?”

Vanessa’s tipsy and she doesn’t want to keep Brooke a secret any longer, at least from her two best friends. So as Monique shakes her head, she grimaces and gives a slow shrug.

“Uh…I think I can answer that.”

Akeria blinks at her and Vanessa can practically see the cogs turning in her brain. Monique gets there first though, and she emits a high-pitched shriek that soars above the speakers and makes Gigi and Crystal jump about twenty feet in the air from across the booth. Vanessa frantically shushes her, and that’s when Akeria catches on.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Lord Jesus. It was you an’ Brooke Lynn, wasn’t it? Tell me I’m right,” Akeria grabs Vanessa’s wrist, shaking her so excitedly and violently that even the table manages to shake too.

“You sorted your shit out? When?! Where is Jesus!” Monique squeaks at a pitch that, if Vanessa couldn’t make out herself, she would be convinced only dogs could hear.

“God, okay, it was after that night I came and stayed at yours. You know, when I kissed her and then she got weird with me and I told you both about it on the group chat,” Vanessa explains, starting from the very beginning. “Anyway it was that week we did the Argentine and it’s hard not to feel a way when you do that kinda dance, y’know? So it ended up happenin’ again an’ we actually talked this time. She told me she had this big crush on me, an’ obviously I felt the same. So…yeah. We’re…well, not together, but we’re a thing for sure.”

In the midst of Monique’s excited reaction, Akeria narrows her eyes. “What, when you did that Tango? Girl. That was what, a whole-ass week ago? More? Why’re we only just getting told about this?”

Vanessa pulls a face. “Well, we’re both trying to keep it low key. You know what happened with Kam, an’ I don’t wanna get too invested too fast. Plus if it gets into the papers…”

“That’s fair. Got it, girl. We’ll keep it all secret,” Akeria reassures her instantly, taking her hand and leaning into her side in her tipsy state. “This is dead cute, though. I’m happy for you, babe.”

Monique gasps in outrage. “Oh, so when Vanessa gets a girl it’s cute but when I get a girl you gag?”

“Yes. Because Vanessa don’t bang her girl on the rehearsal room floor,” Akeria frowns at her, and Vanessa explodes a laugh. She’s so full of love for her friends, and she’s beyond glad that tonight’s been her night. So when their song comes on over the speakers and Akeria starts yelling it out in her own off-key way, Vanessa drags them both up to join the clump of girls already on the dancefloor, and when she dances over to Brooke’s side she can’t help but feel a little warmth flow through her veins as Brooke’s vision sparkles at the sight of her.

They all end up dancing til closing time, and as they spill out onto the streets like the club has coughed them up Vanessa has to fight the drunken thoughts her mind is producing that are urging her to take Brooke’s hand on their walk back to the hotel. There could still be a camera anywhere, even at one in the morning, and Vanessa doesn’t want to risk the small beginnings of whatever it is she and Brooke are sharing.

Still, when they’re back in their hotel room they’re free to act as affectionately as they want, and Vanessa has never been more glad of the fact they’ve been given a double bed as they fall back against the mattress, giggling and kissing each other like the worst kind of honeymoon phase idiots the world has ever seen.

“Can’t be bothered to put m’ pyajamas on,” Brooke murmurs, her speech impeded by the espresso martinis she’s been drinking and the lethargy that’s rapidly taking over her. Vanessa laughs softly, turns over onto her side and tucks a strand of hair behind Brooke’s ear. Her lipstick is faded, one of her eyelashes is sticking up at the side, and there’s a little patch of smudged eyeliner at the corner of her eye, but Brooke’s still perfect to her.

“Jus’ sleep naked,” Vanessa says, attempting to sound seductive but getting betrayed by the yawn that escapes her mouth mid-sentence. Brooke laughs.

“You really know how to charm a woman into bed, Ms. Mateo,” she teases her, tapping her lightly on the nose with her finger. Vanessa bares her teeth at her, biting at the air and causing Brooke to dissolve into giggles.

“You’re a mess.”

“Hey, so are you!” Brooke laughs incredulously, and Vanessa has to concede. She watches as Brooke sighs wearily, sitting up against the pillows and pulling off her lashes one by one. Brooke leans over the side of the bed for the packet of makeup wipes in her bag and Vanessa can’t help but smack her butt that’s sticking in the air. Brooke responds by launching the makeup wipes at her, hitting her square in the face and causing the pair of them to burst out laughing again.

Vanessa takes out two wipes and hands one to Brooke, and somehow the pair of them end up taking each others’ makeup off, their hands swiping at each others’ faces haphazardly like faulty windscreen wipers on an old car.

“This is the worst facial I’ve ever had,” Vanessa jokes disdainfully, and Brooke waggles her eyebrows.

“I’ll give you a facial later.”

Vanessa snorts ungracefully as Brooke breaks out into a ridiculous grin and ends up with the makeup wipe in her mouth. “Shut the hell up!”

They eventually end up in their pyjamas, but not before Brooke gives Vanessa the world’s worst striptease (Brooke attempting to take her pants off but instead getting them caught around her ankles and falling onto the floor, rendering Vanessa incapable of speech during a laughing fit that lasts a solid five minutes). Vanessa’s not sure what time it is when they finally turn off the lights, get under the covers and sleepily wrap themselves around each other, but she knows it’s pitch black outside and the seagulls are silent and she can just about hear the waves crashing onto the beach if she listens hard enough.

She’s so busy trying to hear the sea against the shore that she doesn’t register Brooke is saying something until she hears the tailend of her sentence, only aware Brooke’s lips have been moving against her skin when they stop.

Vanessa stretches a little. “Hm?”

She feels herself melt as Brooke pulls her closer, hugs her tighter and shakes her head a little. “Doesn’t matter. Night, ‘Ness.”

“Night, Brooke Lynn.”

It’s only once Vanessa is ever so close to falling asleep that she feels as if something was missing, like she wanted to say something more- but the words elude her and she is too tired to think too much about it, so she lets herself be carried off to sleep in Brooke’s arms, comfortable and relaxed inside and out.

[breakingdownsu]

A String of Pearls Chapter Ten

Continuing my burst of sudden free-time-having creativity, I bring you another chapter of this fic, as well as another spamming of my now-available-on-Amazon novel that I finally got finished and uploaded. The better I can do with my original work the more free time I'll have to work on both original and fanworks, so please excuse me for spamming the link. Also for a limited time, you can get it for free, I only ask that if you do get it for free that you leave an honest review after reading:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07BGSPPBY

And now, back to our somewhat regularly scheduled pearl-related shenanigans.

…..

Champion

It started as a joke. It was never meant to go so far.

The matches had been getting dull; the initial thrill of running something illegal right under the noses of Homeworld's higher ups ran out after a few dozen matches, and there were only so many times you could watch a big burly gem beat the stuffing out of another big burly gem before the shine wore off.

They had never had any problems sourcing the fighters; most of the time they were retired Jaspers looking for some action, or Amethysts stuck working boring jobs who missed out on breaking up riots and storming black market compounds. Occasionally a rogue Topaz or a collection of fused Rubies would join in just for flavour, but nine times out of ten the match was Jasper vs Amethyst.

The betting pool still brought in decent cash, but even the regular betters were getting tired of the same old thing. The Hematite running the operation was not a gem that tended to get stressed out, but this was worrying her. The betters were starting to drift away.

“I don't know, throw something in,” her companion Larimar had muttered after listening to her complain about it again and again. “Something they're not expecting. A pearl or something.”

Hematite stopped dead in her tracks.

A pearl?

A pearl had no chance of winning even if they wrapped it in protective layers and put an electron charge on it, but it would be something to see. Hematite knew there were certain subsections of Gem society that paid good money to see pearls destroyed. On a personal level she thought those gems were creeps, but their money was as good as anyone's.

“Yes, a pearl,” she mused out loud. “Why not? For the novelty....”

“Well, don't look at mine,” Larimar retorted, pulling her own pearl onto her lap. “I just had it redesigned.”

“Of course not,” Hematite scoffed. “I'm not going to use a good one. We can get some worn-out scrap from the black market, doll it up to look like new. The patrons won't know the difference.”

They found the 'worn-out scrap' two cycles later; it was a former barracks pearl, with its gem still miraculously intact. Hematite set Larimar up to make the pearl look as sweet and dainty as possible. She was given a redesign in shades of pink and aqua, her hair cut to a neat waifish bob and outfitted in a plain white frock with a single layer of ruffles on the edge. It looked harmless.

As expected, the first arena match of the night was sold out in parsecs, gems clamoured to see the pearl get smashed to pieces live and in person. Even the regular fighters begged to be the ones to do it; in the end Hematite chose a particularly large Jasper with deep battle scars to contrast the tiny pearl.

“Just...do your best,” Hematite said when the pearl asked what her orders were.

The fight started, and it looked like it would be over in parsecs when the Jasper swung an enormous hammer down on the pearl.

Except the pearl dodged out of the way, nimbly ran up the handle of the hammer and the Jasper's arm and drove a loose screw she had found somewhere into the Jasper's eye. The Jasper howled, pulled away, and the pearl swung around her head to the back of her neck and drove the screw in there.

The audience were silent, too dumbstruck to comprehend what they were seeing.

Once the Jasper's spine had been immobilized and she collapsed to the ground, the pearl dropped neatly to the floor, managed to pick up the hammer and brought it down on the Jasper's head, hitting her gem dead one.

Boom. The match was over.

Hematite couldn't find a single word. The pearl stood in the middle of the arena, in the dust of her conquered foe, waiting for instructions. The audience mumbled and stared. They had paid good money to see the pearl destroyed, but this was so unexpected they just didn't know how to react.

“Well, it looks like we have a winner,” Larimar said at last, striding with (fake) confidence and holding up the pearl's skinny little arm in victory.

For the next few cycles, as they wrestled with themselves over what to do, the pearl sat in a corner with Larimar's pearl, calmly waiting for more orders.

“It was a fluke,” Larimar hissed for what seemed like the hundredth time. “They are not made for fighting, for Core's sake! I slapped mine the other day and she fell over! It was just a defective Jasper.”

“That Jasper won fifteen matches,” Hematite hissed back.

“Well, then, she must have taken damage,” Larimar retorted. “That hammer wasn't as solid as it should have been, otherwise the pearl would never have been able to lift it. She was on the verge of crumbling anyway and just didn't have the decency to say it to you.”

Reluctantly, they staged another match. This time, they chose an Amethyst who was relatively new to the arena, and proven to be strong.

Her strength didn't matter in the end; the pearl prised a long shred of metal from the fence and dug it in behind the Amethyst's gem, snapping it in two.

When they sent another Jasper in afterwards, the pearl managed to break both of its arms by dodging her throws at the last minute, then stepped neatly on her windpipe and kicked her gem until it was destroyed.

The audience were morbidly fascinated, and it kept them coming back every time. No matter who the pearl was set up against, she always managed to find a way to kill them.

Not beat. Kill.

Even in the roughest matches before the introduction of the pearl, a gem shattering was a rare occurrence. The loser usually yielded when they felt their lives were in danger, but going up against the pearl meant they had no time to yield.

It was frightening, too, how the pearl always managed to find something to turn into a weapon. Even when they removed as much debris from the arena as possible she found something; a piece of the flooring, a chunk of concrete, a shoe thrown by an audience member, even her own severed arm. Her preferred technique, it seemed, was the opponent gem's own manifested weapon.

She had no shortage of opponents. Hematite had worried that the pearl's vicious track record would stop other gems from wanting to fight her, but it had actually become a matter of pride for the fighting gems to be the one to finish her off. They died in their tens, and then twenties, and after a time in their hundreds.

Rumours were spread that the pearl was infected with a zoatox, and it still didn't stop gems wanting to fight or audiences wanting to watch. Hematite desperately wanted to end the matches and have the pearl liquidated but the proceeds made up so much of her income now that she couldn't afford it.

At the end of every match, she had to bring the pearl back to her home, perch it in the corner with Larimar's pearl, and hope that the pearl had decided not to target her.

Sister, you are doing well. Are you happy?

I am quite happy. Many are gone. I shall destroy many more.

Why did you do this? You said you wanted your gem destroyed. You gave me your memories.

She told me to do my best. And so I did.

…..

Distracted

It was a bad idea to bring a pearl with them. That's what they had been told, even though they all spluttered and insisted that they didn't have a pearl, it was against the rules.

(They did, of course. She was under the floorboards.)

The cycle before they were due to leave, five of them individually had the idea to take her out of hiding and stow her in the pipes of the ship. They happened to bump into each other on the way to get her, and swore each other to secrecy. The pearl, for her part, amiably crouched in the pipe for the entire journey with no more damage than a face full of soot upon landing.

The planet was meant to be mostly unoccupied. A handful of zoatoxes, that was what they had been told. When they were rushed, Jasper 72-BF panicked, grabbed the pearl and ran for her life. Somehow, they managed to get away.

Jasper co-ordinated with some of the others that had gotten away, but they were deep in zoatox territory now with no hope of getting out. The ship was overrun and they were a long way from the nearest warp pad.

“We go in shield formation,” the defacto leader told them grimly. “Everyone takes a turn on the outside, no exceptions.”

“What about the pearl?” Jasper 72-BF asked.

“Doesn't count,” the leader spat.

So they proceeded in shield formation, the main body of the group surrounded by the shield Jaspers looking every way possible for danger, and the pearl skipping nonchalantly three paces behind them. When they did trigger a nest awakening, the pearl moved out of the way to let them fight, as ordered.

Three cycles in, they were down to just seven individuals, worn out and wounded. The warp pad was still a good distance away.

“I don't think I can do this any more,” Jasper 72-BF mumbled, more to herself than anyone listening. “Just shatter my gem now. It's better than being taken by those things.”

The other gems groaned in agreement. Their leader had been taken during the last attack and their morale had been taken with her.

“Excuse me?”

The pearl's melodious trill was incongruous to their surroundings and their situation, so at first they thought they had imagined it. Some of them had even forgotten the pearl was still there, unharmed.

“Um...I think I can help? If you need it,” she insisted.

The Jaspers gaped at her. The pearl rarely spoke unless spoken to, and even then not much beyond stroking someone's ego or agreeing with something.

“Okay, whatever,” Jasper 72-BF muttered, sinking to the ground. “Let's hear it.”

“Zoatoxes are not interested in pearls, and I can communicate with them. I can lead them away from you if you like.”

The Jaspers looked at each other in stunned silence. This was an option?

“Why didn't you say anything before?” one of them finally asked.

“Jasper 46-BF ordered me to stay silent. She is gone now, and the order is nullified.”

That made an awful sort of sense. To think, they'd had a way out of this mess the whole time but one of them had screwed it up by throwing her weight around. Typical.

“Okay, sounds good to me,” Jasper 72-BF admitted. “I'm willing to try anything. But what happens if you lead them away and we get to the warp pad without you?”

“You leave me here,” the pearl shrugged. “I will be fine.”

They didn't like it, but it was better than nothing.

They continued in shield formation, but this time the pearl walked ahead of them, gesturing back for them to stop when she had located a hive. They watched from a safe distance as she made some odd movements with her limbs, and to their astonishment the zoatox got up and left.

“How did you do that?” Jasper 72-BF whispered when she got a chance.

“Pearl gesture-speak and zoatox language are very similar,” the pearl replied.

Pearls have their own language?

They located the warp pad, and as expected it was crawling with zoatox. The pearl readied herself to go to them, but before she did she gave Jasper 72-BF a small object made of cloth.

“Please give this to the next pearl you own,” she said, and then she was gone.

They warped out as soon as the last zoatox clattered away, landing to answer hundreds of questions about the planet, the infestation and how they had managed to survive. They explained about the pearl but it was laughed off as impossible, and they were all determined to be suffering from 'zoa-pox', the madness that usually hit after encountering the zoatox.

A new pearl was illicitly purchased for the remainder of the squadron, and on Jasper 72-BF's first night with her she gave her the little object.

“What is it?” she asked curiously, still thinking of the pearl wandering around alone on that planet surrounded by zoatox and shuddering.

“It is for pearls to know,” the new pearl answered, and no more was said.