Chapter Text
Kimberly Hart's seventeenth birthday was always destined to be the social event of the season, and thus the occasion demanded pomp and circumstance beyond the standard which Kimberly was all too happy to supply. With her parents out of town for the weekend she had free rein of the house, and (with some generous financial support from guilty parents) she'd taken it upon herself to transform it from a household into the ultimate teen hot spot.
Balloons festooned the ceiling, Ernie's juice bar had been tapped to cater the event with a personalized menu of bottomless refreshments (all non-alcoholic, of course), a light up dance floor was installed accompanied by a state of the art sound system complete with a dj spinning all the hottest tunes; the setup put homecoming to shame. The mandatory semi-formal dress code lent the gathering an air of sophistication, a clever technique which Kimberly cooked up to keep the evening on the side of good clean fun (because, she insisted, no one would want to risk ruining a nice dress). Attendees received individually personalized gift bags, but in lieu of gifts Kimberly requested donations for a local women's shelter.
(Billy had donated, but there was also a custom made hair dryer in a neatly wrapped package under his bed to be delivered later.)
It was the quite the bash; extravagant and personal at the same time, but there were certain expectations placed on Angel Grove High's golden girl and she aimed to please. The young woman had promised her closest inner circle that they'd do something more intimate together on another day, but tonight? She belonged to the people.
Billy, being the supportive friend that he was, was in attendance at the party. Whether or not he was deriving any enjoyment from it was incidental.
He'd been having a splendid time earlier when it was just the six of them setting up– Tommy had complimented him on his starry blue button down, he'd helped Trini coordinate setup with the staff (because a Kimberly Hart party had staff), and Zack had inhaled some helium and done a spot on impression of Alpha that was going to provide Billy with sensible chuckles for weeks. All in all, a perfectly pleasant afternoon with friends. But then other people showed up and the music began playing and crowds began to form and Billy found himself slowly being pushed to the margins of the event, powerless against the unstoppable tide of a teenage house party.
One by one his friends had been pulled away by one thing or another (Jason had stuck by him the longest until Billy had at last sighed and told him to stop glaring at the girl dancing with Trini and just join them) until Billy was alone in the corner, rooted to one spot like a bright blue wallflower. Perhaps a forget-me-not, he mused ironically. But he wasn't offended because it wasn't as if his friends abandoned him; he was the stick in the mud, the rogue variable, the one out of place.
He wasn't a fan of parties like this. He saw these people every day, he knew who they were. Why should everyone have to behave so differently just because a dj was pumping his hands in the air while a playlist blared through the speakers?
From his hiding spot his eyes fell on Kimberly and he watched as his friend mixed and mingled, a touch jealous of the ease at which she navigated the crowd. Kimberly at a party was like a shark in the water, a miracle of evolution perfectly adapted to dominate the ecosystem. Currently she was circulating the event making sure to greet everyone (the ideal host, she explained to Billy while they stuffed tissue paper into gift bags, doesn't have fun until she knows everyone else is having fun) and Tommy trailed behind her like a dutiful boyfriend should, though Billy got the sense that he was maybe a bit more uncomfortable than he let on... perhaps Billy could make room for him in the anti-social corner later.
Kimberly locked eyes with him across the room and for a moment something like concern flashed across her face, but perhaps it was just a trick of the light because a moment later Marleau and her friends swooped in to greet the birthday girl and Kimberly plastered on what Billy knew to be her fakest smile and that was the last he saw of her before she was swallowed up by the crowd.
Billy chuckled– at least being on the lower end of the social scale meant he didn't have to play nice with everyone. Sometimes there was a pleasure in anonymity, in being able to be faceless in the crowd. After all, nobody was checking for Billy Cranston on a night like this.
He tried his best to look invisible as he sipped bright pink punch from a plastic cup and attempted to discern what the exact combination of flavors was supposed to be. Passionfruit? Cherry? Corn syrup? His mind drifted to thoughts of using his lab equipment to reverse engineer the chemical makeup of the beverage to unravel its secrets, and he was so distracted by daydreams of using a centrifuge that he didn't even notice someone slide up next to him until their arm slid across his shoulders; he jolted in surprise, nearly splashing the punch all over his nice shirt.
“Some party, huh dude?” Zack panted into Billy's ear. Billy extracted himself from Zack’s grip (he didn’t mind physical affection from his friend but Zack’s armpit was not an ideal place to be located after the boy had spent an hour dancing) and took another sip of the punch to buy himself time as he tried to come up with a diplomatic answer.
“There is certainly energy in abundance,” he offered, his eyes roaming over the throngs of people making fools of themselves on the dance floor. “And the sound system is quite robust. Very high fidelity speakers.”
Zack laughed and shook his head, like Billy had made a joke, then uncapped the bottle of water he was holding and took a greedy swig. He gulped and leaned back against the wall, a comforting presence at Billy’s side, the two of them stood in warm silence for a moment.
Then Zack said something absurd. “You should get out there and dance.”
Billy sputtered, choking on his punch, and Zack broke out laughing again. Red faced, Billy pushed his glasses up.
“And why would I do that?” He asked, half disbelieving, half embarrassed for reasons he didn't want to articulate.
“Uh, because it would be good for you? Everybody’s gotta move now and then and– this is a crazy idea –you might actually have fun.” Zack wiggled his eyebrows as he said that last word, and Billy fought back a smile. Zack took the encouragement. “You ever tried that? Fun? Could be interesting.”
“An intriguing offer but I’m perfectly content to remain as I am,” Billy deferred politely, leaning back and crossing his arms just to emphasize how comfortable he was. He gestured with his free hand towards the dance floor. “Don’t let me restrain you from enjoying yourself though!”
Zack, however, stayed firmly planted. “Come on, you’ve been glued to the wall all night,” he whined. “You’re telling me that letting loose just a little bit doesn’t interest you at all?”
Billy’s eyes examined the party around him and considered it. The room smelled of vanilla (because Kimberly was fantastic at throwing parties and thought of everything down to olfactory detailing) and the strobe lights cast the party in a welcoming pink glow; some loud pop song was thumping and while Billy didn’t know the name of it, he didn’t find it entirely unpleasant either. It seemed like half of the school was in attendance and familiar faces dotted the crowd, all of them smiling. Everyone seemed so happy to be sharing the space and freeing their bodies to the music and Billy felt a twinge inside his chest.
It was a picture perfect tableau, a photo could accompany the word “party” in the dictionary, but when Billy envisioned himself stepping forward and joining them, having people stare at him as he stood around awkwardly without a clue of what to do…
“Unfortunately I’m not really a dancer,” he finally admitted. Combat, battle maneuvers, he could handle those, but dancing? It felt more alien than the actual aliens he knew. As far as Billy was concerned, everyone was better off if he remained in his little corner.
“Hey!” Zack snapped with an intensity that caught Billy off-guard, and he found himself on the receiving end of a rapid one armed hug that felt vaguely vindictive. Like Zack thought he could squeeze the doubt out of Billy's shoulders, but he had to be quick about it. “Never say that you’re not a dancer- everyone’s a dancer, they just don’t know it yet.”
“Everyone except me, I have two left feet,” Billy shrugged and looked down at said feet. Then he issued a correction. “Metaphorically, of course. That would be a horrific genetic deformity.”
“You can dance with two left feet, two right feet, no feet at all!” Zack declared with an easy confidence, as if the action were really as simple as speaking it aloud. "It's just about expressing yourself. Anybody can do that!“
Billy hummed noncommittally, not really seeing the sense in arguing; Zack's statement was technically correct, just devoid of the necessary context. Sometimes his didn't understand that not everyone possessed the same bottomless well of confidence, much less the same gregarious attitude and effortless charisma. But sensing that Billy didn't believe him, Zack squared up his shoulders in the way he always did before a big game or a fight; he was getting ready for a challenge.
"Okay, you're a scientist, right?" Zack began, and he responded to Billy's nod with a grin. "Then let's look at this from a scientific perspective, because there's a lot you can learn from watching someone move."
“Hold on, body language analysis isn't a real science," Billy protested. “It’s only practiced by television detectives and charlatans on YouTube.”
Zack brushed him off, undeterred. “This isn’t about science, this is about people, and I know all about people.” He pushed off the wall and turned so he was facing Billy, rolling his neck to stretch as he spoke. “Movement is a form of expression and whether they know it or not, everybody’s got their own style. You just gotta know how to look! For example, this is Trini.”
Zack began to sway side to side, rocking his shoulders in fluid motions up and down like a wave; Billy was momentarily taken aback by just how strange it was to see the usually excitable Zack move in such a restrained way. His head leaned back slightly and drifted serenely, not missing a beat even when he began to speak again.
“She’s the hidden serpent of the dance floor- subtle and smooth. She knows what she’s got and she works it.” When Billy looked over at Trini on the dance floor he could see exactly what Zack described: his friend was flowing like water, head tilted to let her long black hair cascade down her back like her own private waterfall.
“That’s incredible,” He breathed out in awe. Zack dropped the impersonation and puffed up a bit, a roguish smile crossing his face.
“And check out Jason- well, don’t actually check out Jason, I don’t know how much Trini would like that,” Zack winked at Billy and the two shared a knowing chuckle, then he continued to explain. “But seriously, Jason is always a fighter, even when he’s dancing. It’s all punch and thrust with him, he’s a bit stiff, but you can’t teach that kind of power.“
Billy watched with fascination as Zack’s movements became sharper, constantly shifting between levels, his arms more involved now. When Billy sought out Jason in the crowd he saw that once again, Zack was right: Jason’s hands were balled up into fists and he was tucking and weaving to the music, almost as if he were shadow boxing with the song.
“Kim’s kinda tricky to pin down–“ Zack continued, switching gears effortlessly to a new form of movement. “She’s got her finger on the pulse of pop culture so she’s always got the hottest moves in her vocabulary, but if you look a bit closer, you can see that she’s putting a spin on them that’s all her own. I’ll do my best but keep in mind I’m not half as flexible as she is.” Suddenly Zack’s dance moves became more flashy, Billy suspected he was echoing actual choreography, but there was life in the way that he shook his head side to side and that seemed so uniquely Kimberly that Billy was almost convinced the two of them had switched bodies.
“And Tommy… Tommy is like this,” Zack stopped moving for a second then with his back ramrod straight and pushed his neck out forwards and back, looking so much like a chicken that Billy couldn’t help but laugh. Mischief shone in Zack’s eyes. “Don’t tell him that I did that, okay?” Billy nodded conspiratorially, and Zack returned to something resembling seriousness. “The point is that Tommy is all in the head; you can tell there’s a lot going in there. He’s thinking carefully about every movement that he makes but when he cuts loose, man does he know how to move.” Zack paused. “Also I think he kinda wants to look like a dinosaur.”
Billy's eyes scanned the crowd for Tommy to confirm but his friend was nowhere to be found; still, Billy had no doubt in his mind that Zack was correct. He did, however, recognize two more familiar faces in the crowd.
“And what about those two?” Billy pointed over at Bulk and Skull, who had cleared out a space for themselves on the dance floor with their wild and erratic dance moves. Bulk seemed to be attempting to crunk (unsuccessfully) while Skull had somehow figured out how to head bang to the mid tempo pop song, and Billy had to restrain himself from rushing over and grabbing the boy by the neck before he hurt himself.
“Ah yes, those two…” Zack chuckled fondly, and Billy paused for a moment to marvel at how neatly the duo had crossed from being enemies to friends. “Absolute knuckleheads. They move how they wanna move, and the rest of the world can either get with the program or get out of the way. But let me ask you– do you think they can dance?”
The two friends watched as Skull flung himself into Bulk’s arms Dirty Dancing style and Bulk spun him around haphazardly, causing the people around them to scatter in a desperate attempt to avoid being kicked. Billy winced and shook his head. “Absolutely not.”
“Honestly I don’t think they can either,” Zack admitted, but then he held up one finger triumphantly. “But the difference is that they doesn’t let that get in the way of them having a good time, and I gotta respect them for that.”
Zack took another swig of his water and stopped talking, relaxing against the wall and watching the party thunder around them. Billy waited patiently until his curiosity got the best of him. “And what about me?” He asked. “What’s my dance?”
“Oh, you?” There was a mock innocence to Zack’s voice and a barely concealed smirk on his face. “I seem to remember someone saying you weren’t a dancer. Have I made you curious?”
“I mean– yes.” Billy admitted, flushing red, and Zack glowed at him. Like always, he reached out to ruffle Billy's hair.
“Well Billy, that’s something you need to figure out for yourself."
Zack shot him a salute then pushed off the wall and disappeared into the crowd.
Billy stood alone for a moment and went for another sip of his drink, only to find that the cup was now empty. Across the room he watched as Zack sought out Jason and Trini, who sprung apart when they noticed him and tried to pretend like that hadn’t been grinding. Kimberly and Tommy joined them a minute later, having apparently finished their compulsory tour of the party, and they’d picked up Bulk and Skull along the way so now it was all of Billy's closest friend's hanging out without him.
Now that Zack’s mind had set Billy down a certain path he couldn’t help but try to analyze the way they danced and with a critical eye he was able to pick out all the subtle ways that the seven of them seemed to almost move as a unit, constantly shifting and adjusting to accommodate the group and balance each other out. Billy sighed wistfully at the sight; if he tried, would there even be room for him? Or would he just be in the way?
Skull caught his eyes from across the room and waved, a big movement so sincere and enthusiastic that it cracked right through Billy’s resolve. He shouted something imperceptible to the others and suddenly they were all looking at him, smiles on their faces, beckoning him over.
“Oh, what the heck!” Billy exclaimed, and he stepped out to join his friends.