... things I almost remember...

The amazing thing about the dancing bear, the old quotation ran, was not how well it could dance, but that it could dance at all.

Sadly for the pride of the other attendees, the saying didn't hold true: Oberon and Ursula dominated the dance floor, and clearly not in the way one might expect of just under a quarter-ton of quick-moving bear — the common image of a bear as “lumbering” clearly failed to apply to either of the couple.

Yuliy muttered into his martini. "Must apologize. Have taken after students in calling Slava 'great bear of a man'."

I snerked, just quietly enough for Yuliy to hear. Vyacheslav Safronov, known for his imposing size and almost utter lack of grace, was currently towering over everyone in the far corner of the ballroom, tugging uncomfortably at his collar and watching the couple-of-the-moment with the most hangdog expression I have ever seen on the man — which was saying quite a bit, as I'd seen him frequently shortly after Ekaterina died.

"I should ask Oberon to recommend his tailor to Vyacheslav," I said, my Singapore Sling hovering vaguely near my lips as I looked over the glass's rim. "He doesn't look nearly as uncomfortable."

It was Yuliy's turn to snort at that. "Also does not look as cold as superfluid helium. Not difficult to be less uncomfortable," he said, mimicking my intonation, "than Slava in public."

"Mm," I said noncommitally. He was right, of course, but I wasn't going to give him the pleasure, not halfway through his third martini.

---

Edited 2009-03-17: Minor redescription.