Lavi sounds confident when he says he knows how to dance, but Kanda's derisive snort raises Allen's suspicions enough that he asks Lavi to demonstrate.

"You know," Lavi says, his voice bouncing through the ballroom as he follows Allen in. "I recently read about a style of dance they've discovered the natives doing in the Pacific Islands. They wear grass skirts."

"Oh, no," Allen mumbles. Lavi begins a spastic parody of dance that involves an overabundance of hip gyrations. It's not as if Allen should be at all taken aback by it; he'd witnessed something like it performed for Cross's benefit in their travels when he was younger, but—

"Only if you want the ladies to faint," he points out, wincing a little when his voice echoes. He can feel the beginnings of a deep flush on his face, the kind that takes several minutes to subside. "Lavi, please, that's dreadful and you know it."

"I'll just do it here, then," Lavi says, grinning. "Your sensibilities aren't as delicate."

Allen looks at Kanda in desperation before he can help it.

"Stop," Kanda says sharply.

"Yuu doesn't know how to dance either," Lavi proclaims. Kanda shoots him a withering glare.

Allen sighs. "Fine. I'll just—I'll teach you both to waltz, then. It's very simple and very safe. Or it should be," he adds, giving Lavi a stern look. For once he has the feeling Kanda will be the more reasonable of the two. "You start by asking a lady for a dance." He swallows. "Kanda, may I have the honor of a dance with you this evening?"

Kanda's eyes sink shut as Lavi snickers.

"I was only showing how it is done," Allen says quickly. When Kanda opens his eyes Allen expects there will be anger in them, but his expression is neutral. "And then when it is time, you bow first. Then take her hand." He holds his hand out and Kanda’s fingers close around Allen’s. "And place your other hand on her waist. Here." He touches Kanda, steeling himself for some sort of reaction. Kanda merely nods. "Since you’ll be leading, it only makes sense for you to learn that way." The palm of Kanda's hand rests warm against Allen's side a moment later.

Allen looks up at Kanda, resting his own hand tentatively on Kanda's shoulder. There isn't as great a difference in height between them as there once was, and the only time he and Kanda have ever been this close is during the most heated of arguments. Now he only looks as if he is waiting for his next instruction. Kanda's gaze slides down to Allen's mouth and he frowns.

"Um," Allen says. Kanda hasn’t lost the ability to fluster him thoroughly, even if it isn’t with anger anymore. "It's really very easy. Always start with your left foot."

Allen had supposed Kanda would be stiff and awkward, but he only has to show Kanda once before they are gliding with relative ease across the floor and he can simply count off the steps. Allen's mind wanders to the way Kanda once moved, fluid with his sword as if it were an extension of his body, seamless in his reaction to every countermovement, and he discovers that he is not very surprised after all.

"That's good." The words are suddenly hard to come by, in a weaker voice than Allen had intended. He brings them to an abrupt halt. "You'll need to practice, but I think I should show Lavi now."

"Good luck," Kanda mutters, and goes to take a seat.

Lavi has been observing the two of them with an unnatural silence, but he jumps up at the sound of his name. "May I have the honor of a dance this evening, Miss Walker?" he asks.

Allen can’t imagine any girl being able to say no to Lavi’s smile. Lavi’s hand comes up to the spot Kanda's vacated. It is even warmer than Kanda’s was. Allen meets Lavi's eye gravely, but he has to look away before he can make the impression upon him that he intended. "Lavi. You mustn't grip a lady's waist like that with your whole hand. It's improper. Just lay your palm there lightly."

"It's a good thing you're not a lady, then."

"Lavi." Allen tries to frown disapprovingly and ends up with his mouth twisted in a wry smile instead.

"I'll be a model gentleman at the ball, I promise," Lavi declares. "Now. Let me see if I remember. Left foot first, and forward, side, together, back. Yeah?"

"Yes," Allen says. Lavi squeezes his hand excitedly.

Lavi's zealousness is a hindrance rather than any lack of grace. He nearly bowls Allen over on their first trip around the room.

"It isn't a race," Kanda observes dryly from his seat.

"You lack passion," Lavi informs him over his shoulder, and then grins at Allen.

"You lack form," Kanda retorts.

"Allen," Lavi says, his eye sparkling with mischief, "are you enjoying yourself?"

"You're terrible at this!" Allen wails, and then realizes that for the first time in as long as he can remember he is working harder to keep himself from doubling over in laughter than he is at trying to keep up.

"Nonsense," Lavi says. "It's because I need to feel the music." Kanda's snort is audible from across the room. "Allen, you should play something." He stops in front of the piano and lets go of Allen's hand. His other hand slides around to the small of Allen's back. "Go, something lively; Yuu likes a challenge."

"But waltzes aren't supposed to be lively!" Allen protests as Lavi pushes him toward the piano. "Not that lively, anyway!"

Lavi tugs Kanda out of his seat. "Get up; you’re not going to let Allen keep believing that I’m a better dancer than you, are you?"

"I didn’t—" Allen starts.

"You implied it," Lavi interrupts over his shoulder. "All right. And we’re off!"

"It’s not a race," Kanda repeats as Lavi drags him out onto the floor. "And no music; it would be a distraction."

"I’m leading," Lavi says.

"No you aren’t," Kanda says in a determined tone, and Allen isn’t sure if he imagined the smile that flickered across Kanda's face or not as he turns them midstep so that he is leading Lavi. Kanda looks at Allen. "Count. I don’t want this idiot blaming me for the fact that he can’t keep time."

"Sometimes," Lavi says between snickers, after attempting to wrest the lead from Kanda and failing miserably, "enthusiasm is more important than skill."

"It’s killing you that I’m better at this than you are," Kanda says matter-of-factly.

"I dress better than you, though," Lavi retorts, offering Kanda his most obnoxious smile.

Kanda rolls his eyes and sets his jaw. "Pay attention; you aren’t ready to talk and dance at the same time."

"But that is an important part of it! It’s exactly why I need practice. Oh, Yuu, you’re so understanding."

Lavi pats Kanda's shoulder fondly while Kanda glances at Lavi's hand and gives him a half-hearted glare. Allen falters in his one-two-threes, watching Kanda's perfectly measured steps and struck by the feeling that he isn't serving any useful purpose anymore.

"Oh, Allen," Lavi says loudly. Allen realizes that he has been inching toward the doorway and hopes his sudden discouragement wasn't that transparent. He tries to think of an excuse to leave the room, but Lavi continues before he can say anything. "Don’t you dare go anywhere. We need your count and your critique; specifically, I demand to know why Kanda is unable to make us look like the best dancers in the room. If you were really any good," he adds, giving Kanda a pointed look, "I’d look like a natural."

"You’re the only dancers in the room," Allen points out, forcing a smile, "so you must be the best."

"Enough," Kanda says, wrenching his hand out of Lavi's. "The only thing you're showing any aptitude for is being a jackass."

"Well, I never," Lavi huffs. "That was less than noble of you." He winks at Allen. "Allen, shall we, then?"

Allen notices with more clarity than usual the way Lavi's eye twinkles when he is teasing. He swallows, his mouth suddenly dry, and steps forward to take Lavi's hand again.