Take me in your arms

"Please, Jerry? I don't want to be the only person there without a date! It's an important day...please?" Her dark green eyes gazed imploringly up at the fifth year, the closest thing to a boyfriend that Bethel had ever had, despite her current engagement. It was her cousin's engagement ceremony, and Bethel didn't want to walk in feeling like a seventeenth wheel, simply because her own betrothed had not opted to come. For his part, Jerry knew deep down that he couldn't deny the girl in front of him much of anything, particularly not something to seemingly innocent.
"Sure, Bethel. It sounds like fun."

The party was in full swing, and not long ago, Bethel had moved from her chair to his lap, to make room for one of the many couples that had needed seats. It would seem that it was normal for more people than were invited to attend these things. Not that Jerry was complaining. Bethel was a pleasant weight on his thighs, and he would use any excuse to wrap his arms around her, to lean close to her hair, and smell her shampoo. It was terrible, and wonderful all at the same time. She was a forbidden temptation, and one that he desperately wanted to sample. Almost abruptly, she slipped from his lap, tearing him from his thoughts as he turned to her, startled.

She still stood near him, holding out one beautifully shaped hand. Oh, man. It made him want to roll his eyes, that he was thinking of how beautiful her hand was. He remained seated, raising an eyebrow.
"Come dance with me, Jerry."
"I can't dance."
"Oh, come on!"
Bethel grabbed his hand, and pulled him to his feet. He was surprised by the strength she hid in that compact little body. Thanks to his runaway thoughts, he was again taken by surprise when he was dragged out to the dance floor. He'd been right, he couldn't dance. But he had fun, pretending for Bethel's sake.

----------

Saturday afternoon naps were the best, in Bethel's opinion. Though she'd spent the last four years living in the United States, she'd never truly lost much of her Spanish heritage, and early afternoon naps were one thing she didn't believe she'd ever want to give up, simply as a principle. So there she lay, basking in the light that seeped through the blinds, wrapped up in her blankets, clothed in sweats, curled on her bed. Everyone knew about her precious Saturday afternoon naps, and so most were kind about it, and chose to let her relax and enjoy it. So when she heard the dorm room door open, she snuggled into her blankets with a groan.

Jerry smiled at the little ball curled up on the bed, and tried to move as quietly as he coud, before he sat on the edge of the bed. He was dressed to kill today, wearing a suit, though he'd lost the tie, and the top buttons managed to come undone. He'd tossed his amazingly attractive fedora hat to the bed next to Bethel's. Slowly leaning over, he spied an expanse of exposed neck, and tenderly pressed his lips to it. Emboldened by the small squeak that he could hear from under the blankets, he gently pried the duvet away, kissing more of her neck.
"Bethel....wake up."

Well, how could she say no to that? Slowly she sat up, feeling like a poor bag lady with her old pajamas and mussed hair, while Jerry looked so nice and put together. She rubbed at her eyes, and scowled because she knew Jerry was thinking how cute she looked, when she clearly didn't look cute at all. She lowered her hands, and tilted her her head, waiting for him to say something.
"Bethel, come dance with me."
She blinked at him for a few minutes, completely taken by surprise.
"But you can't dance...."
"Come on, Beth."

About an hour after Bethel had tossed Jerry out of her room to get ready, they were stepping through the doors of a latin dance club. Jerry had no idea where she'd gotten a dress that....for lack of a better word, hot - but he did know he was going to thoroughly enjoy it. As they walked out to the dancefloor, and Jerry took her hands in his, Bethel knew something was different. He lay her hand on his shoulder, and placed his on her back. He'd had dancing lessons. As he pushed off, begininning the basic rumba step to the music, he grinned at her.
"Follow my lead."

The dance that followed was a passionate one, improvised and unique. It just made the experience all the better, and later that night, with Bethel curled at his side, sleeping soundly, her breath soft against his skin, Jerry knew that he'd made the right decision, and that dancing lessons had been well-worth what he'd paid Juliet Morhan for them.

-------

It seemed as though she was going to smile so broadly, that her face would fall off. As quickly as she could, she rushed out of the bathroom door, and down the hallway where Jerry had been helping Mireille with her homework. The eight year old raised an eyebrow as her mother came flying through the livingroom.
"Jerry!"
Hearing his name, Jerry looked up at his wife, and smiled, catching her hand and spinning her into his embrace.
"What is it?"
"We're having another baby."
Shifting his grip on his wife, he began to sway with her, kissing her cheek. They'd been trying for a baby for two years now, and had been worried that they wouldn't be able to have one again.

Mireille, who'd been silently watching her parents, put her pencil down and walked over to them, tugging on her father's arm. Jerry looked over at her, and smiled.
"What is it, sweetheart?"
"Are you dancing?"
"Yeah- do you want to dance?"
The little girl nodded, her constantly serious blue eyes lighting up for a few minutes as her father dramatically to her hand, and spun her into his arms. His voice was soft, and gentle as he talked out the steps with their daughter.

Bethel stood to the side, moved to the point of tears, and wiping at her eyes. After all that she'd been through, life was starting to work out- and she had her wonderful husband to thank for it.