For a single second, Bella's body stiffens. It's the span of a missed step on the dance floor, most idiots would attribute it to the wine and nothing else. Not the sudden tensing of her legs that makes her put her foot down harder than she needs to or the way her back goes ramrod straight. She draws her next breath as sharp as a whip, and a scowl darkens her face just as a messy wave of synth beats crash their way into her sensitive ears. 

She snatches Vasilia's hand from her neck with the speed of Zeus grabbing for her thunderbolts. She squeezes, and she steps into the next beat as though she hadn't just bobbled the last. She holds that hand in place as they dance, substituting the graceful waltz of their earlier number for a more wild thrashing more in tune with the shifting of the cassettes. But through every jerking motion and dangerous twirl, she keeps Vasilia pressed close against her body, half forcing and half trusting her legs to keep pace as she holds that hand right where it is about her neck. She squeezes, and she smirks. She raises her eyebrows with a note of suggestion, and she pulls that hand forcefully up to her own cheek to feel the other cat's fingers caressing her.

"Oh, is [i]that[/i] what you wanted to talk about? I had no idea you felt that way! What a jealous, grabby little paw you've got. Does the Princess know how much her captain wants a collar?"

Bella's muscles tense again, but this time with liquid smoothness and perfect grace. She lifts Vasilia into the air and leaps up after her, carrying the two of them suspended in the air for long and intimate seconds where there's nothing for them to do but stare into each other's eyes and count on Bella's training when they crash back to the floor with a possessive sweep that turns at least half the heads in the hall. Bella dips lower, and lower. She leans until Vasilia's foot lifts off the floor and nothing is keeping her prisoner from toppling to the ground except her mercy and the strength of her arm.

She pushes herself closer. Her bells jingle as they dangle off her hip, and her blue-black hair tumbles carelessly around her face to tickle Vasilia's. Like this, they're pressed almost nose to nose. Like this they're not even a crane of the neck away from kissing. Bella's lips are wet enough. They're painted red and inviting. But Aphrodite pulls them into a toothy grin, instead.

"Don't worry little pet, I have plenty of collars for you back on my ship. You can submit as many times as you like. Everything the scriptures sing of, I'll permit. I wonder, with your backwoods scrapyard 'education', how many am I going to have to teach you myself?"

Bella twists her body like a serpent and yanks her dance partner along, and with a sudden surge the pair comes rising up to a standing position again. Finally their bodies separate, all the way to the length of their respective arms, still linked by the hand that Bella hasn't let go of. 

Applause breaks out across the dance floor. This time when Bella bows, she doesn't add the curtsy. She lifts her neck and turns it back toward Vasilia. With the angle of her face and the tumble of her hair, the shadows swallow almost all her features. Her painted lips shine through, like her glinting teeth. The shape of her nose is visible too. The last feature to be seen, and the first to be noticed, is her glowing, empty red eye. 

"Sing, canary. This stays fun for exactly as long as you keep being useful to me."