It Takes Three to Tango--or Ten || Carmen; Vash; Open - MI6

[Nesia Notonegoro]

332 WORDS @femspain; Vash Alois Zwingli; MI6

S low, slow, slow, quick, slow... Knees closed, feet opened. In her small apartment, Nesia had moved her furniture closer to the wall to create more space on the floor. Her laptop was placed at the table, showing a basic tutorial video about tango dancing. She observed and mimicked the woman's steps before doing it by herself. It looked easy. Once Nesia was confident that she had memorized enough, her curiosity prompted her to she clicked another video about tango. This time, it wasn't a tutorial. The dance didn't look as simple as she thought. The choreography was more intricate and difficult, but Nesia had been dancing since she was young; she just needed to practice a lot to master it. Yet her confidence gone when she realized just how close the dancing pairs were in the video. Never in her life she got that close physically to a man, and she felt she wouldn't be able to do it without blushing at all. Before the video ended, Nesia closed the browser and turned her laptop off. Well, at least her instructor would be a woman. As part of her (extra) training, her mentor advised her to fix her nervousness during social interactions, especially with men. Ms. Carmen Fernandez-Carriedo was chosen to teach Nesia, and she had said that they would learn tango during the lesson too. Maybe she offered it because Nesia did list dancing as her hobby and skill in her agent profile. Ms. Carriedo herself seemed to be a good dancer. This is going to be fun. Nesia arrived early at the SIS Building; a rare occasion that may had been fueled by her excitement. A room that was usually used for martial arts training had been reserved for today. She headed to that room, not surprised when she found it empty. Nesia did a little stretching, then decided to pass the time by repeating the steps in the tutorial video, humming a song softly to help with the rhythm.

LAIKA OF GS!

[Vash Alois Zwingli]

'cause tonight's the night
the world begins again

He most certainly was not a dancer. Certainly, he has been forced into some mandatory lessons by the MI6, and certainly, he has had to use such skills in the field (not that he enjoyed it at all), but damn it, he is an agent, not a dancer. He lacked the passion of the Romance countries in the sense of dancing, and if he ever did dance, he tried to stay away from any Latin ballroom dance. His mandatory MI6 training made him capable of leading a lady on the dance floor, be it of the Latin variety or not, but that didn't excuse the natural awkwardness he had when he danced.

Of course, though, he'd follow orders well enough. Just as long as he wasn't really teaching, it should all be fine... in theory, at least.

Carmen was an admirable co-worker of his, who was often in a similar position as him. She was an exceptional agent in fields and skills that he wasn't so exceptional at (like dancing... and flirting, as it seemed), and because of the excellence in those skills, she was often tasked by the MI6 to train novices and better their skills. Of course, when it came to dancing ballroom, she needed someone to demonstrate. That's where Vash comes in. He agrees to it for the good pay... and to keep Carmen appeased. A cranky Carmen was frankly not a pleasant thing to have in the SIS Building.

He never really learned the fact that her timing was always going to be off. He'd mull over how she would never be on time, and she would mull over simply how much too early the Swiss man always came. No matter for today. He couldn't come an hour early as usual due to a separate obligation.

He was earlier than the time Carmen had told him to come, and so he was somewhat surprised to see the door already open. He usually waited around until the trainee came in. He quietly entered, to see someone already in the room. Nesia Notonegoro. 

So this is who is getting training today. God, please let Carmen be easy on both of us.

She seemed to be preoccupied with her own little dancing, and so he didn't bother her. He sat himself by the wall, crossed his arms, and closed his eyes. Carmen would take a while. She always did.

made by nette of gs!

[Nesia Notonegoro]

321 WORDS

T he basic steps weren't that difficult. Just in a mere minutes after she started, Nesia's confidence had started to return. She quickened her pace, while her arms remained stiff and motionless in the air. If she had someone to practice with, Nesia believed she would do it even better by the time Ms. Carriedo arrived. Keeping her arms up when she had no one to hold to felt uncomfortable after a while, too. Tired, the woman stopped and stretched her arms, letting her blood flowed freely to her fingertips. When she turned around, she saw that she was no longer alone. How come she didn't hear the door opened and closed? "Er... good morning, Mr. Zwingli," she greeted the Swiss man, feeling a bit embarrassed because he must had been seeing her practicing by herself. Silence passed between them, until Nesia awkwardly averted her gaze. Why he was here? She thought he entered the wrong room, but Nesia doubted it. Vash Zwingli was famous for his precision in shooting and his punctuality in appointments. His position indicated that he had been there for a while, and if Vash had not expected her to be here, he would have said something. So that means there's only one explanation left... "Were you waiting for Ms. Carriedo?" Nesia asked, didn't dare to directly voice her thoughts. "She borrowed this for... erm, a training session. She will arrive soon, I believe," the woman added as she walked to her belongings, grabbed a water bottle and seated herself across of the blond man. There was no way her supposed mentor had appointed him to teach her instead, right? Vash didn't seem to be the type of man who enjoyed dancing, let alone a dance as intimate as tango. Sighing, Nesia closed her bottle cap and leaned on the wall. She hoped he's only here waiting for Ms. Carriedo and would left before they started the lesson.

LAIKA OF GS!

[Vash Alois Zwingli]

HE LEARNED HOW TO DANCE FOR STRICTLY BUSINESS PURPOSES.

If there was anything that truly irritated him, it was he fact that Carmen had a bad habit of being late. Nesia as well, but if you were to account the relative degree of severity in tardiness, Carmen was definitely the biggest offender. Sometimes, he wondered whether it was worth it to arrive at his customary fifteen minute grace period. It wasn't as if he had to prepare anything of any sort, after all. 

"Er... good morning, Mr. Zwingli," she greeted.

"Morgan," he grunted, still unamused by the prospect of today's proceedings. 

"Were you waiting for Ms. Carriedo? She borrowed this for... erm, a training session. She will arrive soon, I believe," she said, seeming a bit in disbelief that Vash was here in the first place. And in truth, Vash was surprised that he was even here in the first place. He had somehow allowed Carmen to convince him to come as a demonstrative partner in an effort to teach dance to the less Latin dance-literate agents in MI6. Even if he perhaps wasn't the best dancer, nor was he the ideal partner in terms of chemistry. If there was one thing he learned through partner dancing classes he had taken as a trainee, it was that dances look better when the two participants have chemistry. They say dance is the point where souls touch, and unfortunately, he rarely let his soul make contact with other souls. Not that he wasn't half bad when he danced with Aoife. But he's never going to dance like that again, now is he?

"Of course she will. If your definition of soon is thirty minutes late," he grumbled, his arms crossed, his eyes to the mirror on the other side of the room. He certainly wasn't a stranger to dancing in this room. In fact, he had danced with Carmen before in this very room. Given that they often were charged with the task of training lower to mid-rank operatives, this was a course they seemed to have to take on from time to time, especially with the fact that people rarely learn how to social dance in this day and age.

He looked towards Nesia. Did she have any experience in the art of social dance? She didn't seem like the type... but it was a possibility. After all, she seemed to have a day job or two. He wasn't quite sure what her day job was, nor was he sure if she kept the same day job for long, but perhaps one of her day jobs was being a dance instructor. She was starting to really take on her role as an agent as they dropped her into more party scenes, and from the last operation review log, it seemed that she was even able to deal with a confrontation with a man who is suspected of being a hitman... with her smooth words. But because Donald wrote the report, Vash would have to see to believe.

"I take it you're here for Carmen's special training session. Have you ever... danced before?" he said, maybe a little too painfully with drawing out the word 'dance'. Dance was simply a word strange to the context of of an agent's work... but essential, all the same. With choreographed words and choreographed steps, they (most of the time) pulled through operations. Dance is nothing compared to the choreography an agent learns.

made by nette of gs!

[Deleted]

SPOILER: Click to show

{OOC Click me}

*BUSTS IN WITH MUSIC BLARING AND BODY MOVING*
A WILD SEBORGAN APPEARS!

Because apparently the Spaniards didn't make the cut or couldn't make it past clearance.

But no seriously, Vash Alois Zwingli and Nesia Notonegoro , let's get our tango on~ and hope that Marco doesn't trip over his own two feet.

---

It hadn’t been but a couple of days since he’d actually been summoned out of his hiding hole to take up some proper agent work, but Marco was ready. Ready as he could be. He had, however expected that among his first assignments, there would be something exciting and perhaps a bit dangerous, but, what he was handed today was far from the sort of action-packed mission that most movies were fond of romanticizing.

Instead, he had been called by some unknown number during the middle of rehearsal requesting he show up to HQ for a ‘special assignment.’ The lady’s voice on the other end sounded promising (though he was practically sure he could hear her smiling on the other end) and since it was his duty to heed the call, he bowed out of practice as politely and swiftly as he could and changed into his street clothes. Upon his arrival at SIS, however, he wasn’t handed any packet containing information for his latest assignment. Instead, he was told that he’d be teaching a dance class and pointed toward the proper room.

A dance class.

Apparently, the instructor that had been scheduled to teach fell into some—well they didn’t truly specify, but by the way the others acted and by the way it sounded, it seemed as if some sort of unfortunate circumstance had befallen the woman. Naturally, the brunette’s heart sank into the pit of his stomach as he received the news and as he walked to the designated room, he frowned to himself. He wasn’t sure if it was some sort of joke or if they were just easing him into real missions, but he didn’t find it altogether amusing. Still, they had said that at such short notice and because of his talents in theatre (where he undoubtedly had to learn a few dances for productions), he was one of only two or so agents left that could really offer any decent help in this situation. Really, he didn’t mind so much since: 1. He did love to dance; 2. He could have been given something much stupider like grunt work; 3. At least this was fun.

He could, however, have lived without it being a morning thing. If it wasn’t for the fact he was already up for rehearsal at the theatre, it was quite likely that the Seborgan would have slept in until noon or so.

With a small sigh, he shook his head and rolled his shoulders a bit. He really should have changed, but it’s not like he would have been graced with the time to do so—the secretary had informed him that the lesson was already running behind schedule and the least he’d be able to do is grab a cup of coffee on his way down the hall—at this hour in the morning he’d need it. Marco would make due, of course, and if anything perhaps there would be a few cute ladies in the class. They’re often more likely to take these sorts of lessons right? In his experience, at least.

With that in mind, he smiled softly to himself as he turned the corner and saw the door to the training-turned-dance room propped open. Lifting the cup of bitter coffee (straight black since he’d not had time to add any sugar or cream) to his lips, he pulled the door open with his free hand and stepped in tentatively. He was a bit let down that there wasn’t more people there, but hey, that just means he’d not have to stretch himself thin among a crowd.

“Bon giorno,” he smiled warmly over to the pair against the wall. Before he could introduce himself, he had to bring one hand over his mouth to cover a rather large yawn. “I-a guess I’ll be the one helping you with-a the lesson today. You-a can call me Marco.” His eyes fell on Vash first as he entered the room properly, recognizing the man from their encounter days before. An amused grin split his features since he certainly wouldn’t have expected the blond to attend. Next, his peridot gaze shifted toward the darker-haired woman. “So-a it looks like you and Scignôro Vash are-a the only ones so far, Scignôa…?” He paused for a moment and chuckled softly, offering a hand in greeting. “But-a it’s not so bad, no? Sometimes smaller classes are-a the best and-a you can learn more.”