Hope that you enjoy this latest instalment. There is more to come. And I would like to thank SmilingDiana for reminding me of the perfect song for this chapter. "The old fashioned way" by Charles Aznavour. I have included some lyrics.
Arthur woke slowly. His eyes reluctant to open as he felt something curled up under his arm. Something warm and soft that he was sure would vanish if he looked at her. He could remember the night before. He could remember how he and (Y/n) had spoken about everything. About how she had been so interested in his life despite how uninteresting it was compared to hers. Yet even though he had not travelled the world like she had. Not seen anything but Gotham. Even though they were poles apart in so many different ways, there seemed to be a connection between the two of them. And (Y/n) had been so attentive and fascinated by all that he had said, that for once Arthur had actually felt important. Felt special. And it was a felling that he was more than happy to admit that he enjoyed.
Cautiously he opened his eyes as he felt (Y/n) move. Her arm wrapping itself around his waist as she moaned quietly in her sleep. He couldn't believe that this was happening to him. This was the kind of thing that happened to other men. The kind of thing that happened in the movies. But most certainly not to him. Most of the time women seemed to run the other way. And when his laugh began, they definitely avoided him like the plague. Yet when he had summoned up the courage to reveal his condition to (Y/n), instead of her pushing him out of the door and slamming it in his face, she had been accepting. Asking him questions about it and wanting to know if there was anything that she could do to help, if he had an episode.
Arthur could truthfully say that he had never met anyone like (Y/n) before. That she really was one of a kind. That her soul was as beautiful as she was.
"Good morning." A soft voice suddenly said. Arthur looking down into (Y/n)'s perfect, yet still sleep filled eyes.
"I am so glad that you could stay. It felt safer having you with me. If those guys had been following me. Knew where I lived, then........ Anyway, thank you for staying. It was so sweet of you." (Y/n) added, as she looked up into Arthur's emerald eyes.
"Er.......would you like some breakfast? Tea, coffee?" (Y/n) asked with a yawn, as she got to her feet. Arthur already missing her warmth as she moved towards the kitchen. (Y/n) knowing that if she had stayed in the sweet clowns arms any longer, that she would have kissed him.
"No. I don't eat much. It's the medication it messes with my appetite. And if I don't leave now, I'll be late for work." Arthur replied, as he saw the time on the little clock on the table next to the sofa. Arthur wishing that he didn't have to go anywhere. That he could stay right there. Take (Y/n) up on the offer of breakfast whether he wanted it or not.
"Oh.....yeah. Of course, you don't want to be late for work." (Y/n) sighed sadly, as Arthur slowly and reluctantly pulled on his jacket.
"I don't suppose.......I mean if you aren't busy later. I will be at the studio this evening. When you get off work, you could come and start those lessons if you like. Better to start sooner rather than later. And to be honest you will be doing me a favour. If you are there, I won't have to put up with that insufferable arse, Michael. And I would much rather dance with you than him." (Y/n) chuckled as she and Arthur made their way to the door of her apartment.
"I.......I'd like that. I mean, only if you really want to. You don't owe me anything. I..........."
"I really want to, Arthur. And I do owe you something. You came to my rescue, and I can never repay you for that. Dance lessons are the least I can do. And it means that I get to spend more time with you. So, I will see you this evening. Ok?" (Y/n) interrupted. Hoping that the quiet knight in a tan jacket and black pants would agree to be there.
"Ok. I'll see you this evening." Arthur assured. His eyes growing wide as (Y/n) kissed him on the cheek.
"That's great. I'll see you later." (Y/n) smiled. Slowly closing the door as Arthur made his way to the elevator.
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"Why are you so happy?" Michael scoffed as he walked into the studio. The dancer preening himself in one of the multitude of mirrors that surrounded the room, as he waited for (Y/n) to explain why she was singing so cheerily to herself.
"What? Isn't a person allowed to be happy around here? And for your information, I have a new client coming for lessons soon. And he happens to be a real gentleman." (Y/n) informed Michael, as she continued to look though the LPs for something just right for her first dance with Arthur.
The whole day seemed to have dragged. She had done her usual errands. Gone to see the old folk at the community centre to help organise their weekly dance. (Y/n) always enjoying watching as the older couples would dance around the floor. A smile always coming to her lips when she put some Glen Miller on the record player. The hands of the clock seeming to turn back, as elderly men and women regained a youthful sparkle in their eyes. Now she was at the studio and (Y/n) had hoped that Michael wouldn't be there that evening. That she and Arthur would have the whole place to themselves. But despite her hopes, Michael was there, the only consolation being that (Y/n) knew that she would be able to kick him out into the next room. Thankfully not having to watch him look at himself all night.
"Well, la de dah. A gentleman. Going up in the world, (Y/n). Better than your usual nerds with two left feet that think a couple of dance lessons will turn them into Casanovas down at the local disco." Michael chuckled, as walked over to her and placed his hand over hers. (Y/n) quickly snatching hers away.
"God, you are such a creep, Michael. And left footed nerds are better than your usual clientele. Sex starved housewives whose husbands are too busy screwing their secretaries to care about the high maintenance woman at home. Willing to pay for lessons with you so that they can get the old ball and chain off their backs. You know, I know what you get up to with those women. And its tantamount to prostitution. You are a disgusting pig." (Y/n) hissed. Wishing she could wipe the smug smile of her dance partners face.
"Since when have you been such a prude, (Y/n)? And anyway, I never hear them complain. Looking this good doesn't come cheap. And what is a little gift here and there to them? Most of their husbands are rolling in dough." Michael chuckled. (Y/n) letting out an exasperated sigh and rolling her eyes as watched him thankfully leave the room. (Y/n) hoping that that would be the last time that she would have to lay eyes on him for the rest of the night.
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Arthur made his way quickly down the street. It was beginning to get late, and he didn't want (Y/n) wondering whether he would be turning up or not. The whole day had dragged. The children at the parties he had performed at, seemed to be far more obnoxious than ever before. The clown sure that they were getting worse, as he got older. Randall had been in good form, bullying and belittling him every chance that he had got. But the one saving grace. The one thing that had made all those terrible things disappear, was the thought of seeing (Y/n) again. To have a chance to hold her in his arms. To sway to some wonderful music. And as he took a deep breath, and nervously pushed open the door to the dance studio, his eyes were met with the vision that he had been looking forward to seeing all day. The smiling face of (Y/n).
"Oh Arthur. You made it. I was worried that you weren't going to come." (Y/n) said cheerfully as she made her way over to him. Taking his arm and leading him further into the building. Arthur trying to ignore the tall handsome man that looked him up and down disdainfully, as he and (Y/n) passed.
"Ignore the idiot, Arthur." (Y/n) said, scowling at Michael as they went to their room.
"Come on. I have found the perfect record for us to start with. I though that we would start slowing and work our way up. Maybe I will have you jitterbugging by the end of the night." (Y/n) laughed, as she closed the door behind them and helped Arthur off with his jacket.
"I.....I'm not very good, (Y/n). What if I stand on your feet?" Arthur asked nervously, as (Y/n) made her way over to the record player.
"Nonsense, Arthur. I am sure that you will be ten times better than the men I normally help. Half of them have no rhythm. The other half don't know their left from their right. And my feet are tougher than they look. Now, we are going to start with the basic box step, and if you don't cripple me by the end of the song, then we will move on to something a little more complicated." (Y/n) replied, as she placed Arthur's arm around her waist and took his hand in hers. The dulcet tones of Charles Aznavour beginning to drift through the room.
Dance in the old fashioned way
Won't you stay in my arms?
Just melt against my skin
And let me feel your heart
Don't let the music win
By dancing far apart
Come close where you belong
Let's hear our secret song.
Arthur couldn't help but listen to the words of the song, as he and (Y/n) moved slowly around the floor. The great French crooners subtle accent seeming to talk to him. Telling him that he should bring the dancer closer. Arthur's hands moving to bring (Y/n) nearer. The quiet man's heart beating quicker as (Y/n) lay her head delicately on his shoulder.
Dance in the old fashioned way
Won't you stay in my arms?
And we'll discover highs
We never knew before
If we just close our eyes
And dance around the floor
That gay old fashioned way
That makes me love you more.
As the song continued. It was if Arthur and (Y/n) had forgotten all about the dance lesson. Arthur ignoring his usual reserved nature, as the pair moved instinctively together. Slowly, intimately. As if the only things that existed were the two of them. The rest of the world disappearing as Charles Aznavour spoke softly.
Come closer
Forget about the others
It's nice to be like this, cheek to cheek
In the old fashioned way
Hahaha, it's funny, but
I have the feeling that we dancing as our parents used to do
Well, maybe they weren't wrong
The world changes, love stays.
And then, as the final words of the song disappeared into the ether. (Y/n) looking up into his eyes. Arthur took a chance. The clown's lips gently meeting those of his ballerina's, in a tender kiss.