Jacob Peralta walked around aimlessly across the packed house. He didn't really know whose house it belonged to, nor did he really bother to care. His friend Gina convinced him to go the party, so he did.

It's not like he had anything better to do.

It had been a couple of hours since he arrived at the stranger's house, and he was still to drink something decent or hear some good music. These parties were never great to him, but he still came because Gina insisted so much on it.

"There's lots of cool people and sounds, dude." She'd said. "I swear you're gonna love it. Oh, and bring your leather jacket."

"Why?"

"It's 70's themed!"

And in fact, it was. Most people had that 70's vibe around them, the gelled-up hair, the pointy clothes, the grunge look. But the music (and the environment, really) weren't up to that generational theme.

So, Jake half despised that party, half liked it. It was fun seeing all these young people (himself included) faking to be part of another point of time, but it was also clashing hard with the mood of everything.

That is, until a slow ballad started playing.

So, you're on the prowl wondering whether she left already or not.

Leather jacket collar popped like antenna, never knowing when to stop.

Sunglasses indoors, par for the course,

Lights in the floors and sweat on the walls,

Cages and poles.

The previous song had been something loud and (to him, at least) slightly obnoxious, but it was something that got your body moving, and he could appreciate it. He was tapping his foot near the kitchen, trying to avoid the stares he got when people realised he was alone. This song, however, was moody and different from everything played. Around him, couples swayed to the melody, almost in a trance like state, keeping up with the beat of the drums.

Call off the search for your soul,

Or put it on hold again.

He went to the hallways of the house and saw someone sneakily smoking inside the house.

"Shit." The person had said. "Pretend you didn't see this."

It was a girl, about his age. She tried to open the window, but her hand was still holding the lit cigarette, and she couldn't really unlock it and throw the forbidden item outside.

"Let me give you a hand." He said.

He opened the window for her, and after a quick defusing of the cigarette, she threw it outside. Then, she sighed.

"I'm going to go pick it up."

"Want some company?"

"Are you trying to be nice or do you just want to get in my pants?" She eyed him suspiciously.

"Just trying to be nice." He grinned, and she regarded him with more suspicion. "Look. Cross my heart and hope to die." He did the gesture on his heart.

"Wrong side. You're swearing on your lung."

"What? No, the heart is on this side."

"Sure, bud. Whatever you say." She started moving. "Are you coming?"

He followed.

She's having a sly indoor smoke.

She calls the folks who run this her oldest friends.

Sipping a drink and laughing at imaginary jokes.

A few moments later, they were in the kitchen, and she threw her illegal cigarette in the trash can.

"There. Now the grass can't complain, and my consciousness is clear." She said.

"You think you have the moral high ground?"

"This isn't Star Wars, you don't have to act like Obi-Wan around me, sir."

"Nerd."

"Jackass."

They giggled.

"Hi. I'm Jake. Jake Peralta." He stretched his hand.

She shook it. "Amy Santiago."

"Nice handshake!"

"I took a seminar."

He looked bewildered, and she laughed.

"It was fun, actually."

As all the signals are sent, her eyes invite you to approach,

And it seems as though those lumps in your throat,

That you just swallowed have got you going.

"Is this song on repeat or is it just me?" He asked her, after a while.

She shrugged. "It's a nice song. I can't really complain. The other songs weren't bad, per se, but they weren't good either."

"Right?"

"It's the usual though, and I can't complain. It makes my body move."

"Did you even drink anything?"

"Not really."

"Same here."

Come on, come on, come on,

Come on, come on, come on,

Number one party anthem.

"Okay so, drink one! What are we dedicating this drink to-slash-for?"

"For slow ballads!" Amy said.

"For slow ballads!" Jake repeated.

They drank the contents of the cup quickly. Jake was surprised when Amy finished before he did.

"I thought I was the champion at this! It's not fair."

"Well, sorry champ. But you've just been… defeated."

"Awkward pause there. You okay? It was one beer."

"I just get a little…" Amy stopped to think. "Spacey. Yeah, that's the word. Spacey."

"With one drink?"

"There's a whole scale."

"Oh, I want to see that."

"Only if I see yours… Peralta."

Jake laughed.

"Treating me by my last name?" He was grinning. Amy thought he looked cute like that. "I'll take that, Santiago."

She's a certified mind blower,

Knowing full well that I don't.

May suggest somewhere from that you might know her,

Just to get the ball to roll.

Drunken monologues, confused because,

It's not like I'm falling in love, I just want you to do me no good.

"So, drink two. What's this Santiago going to bring."

"I DON'T KNOW!" Amy was shouting.

"Okay, got it." Jake rubbed his ears.

"SORRY. I REMEMBER NOW. LOUD. I'M LOUD."

"I can tell." The alcohol in Jake's system made him be braver than he usually was, daring to ask her a question he would never have said normally. "Have I seen you somewhere around? I feel like I have."

"I WOULDN'T KNOW."

"God, I have to give you another drink."

"WHAT?"

"I SAID I HAVE TO GIVE YOU ANOTHER DRIN- why am I shouting? You can hear me just fine!"

Amy laughed loudly. "IT WAS A GOOD JOKE."

"Well, it didn't make me laugh." But he was smiling.

"YOUR FACE TELLS ME OTHERWISE."

"You know what three drink Amy does? I hope it's not yelling."

"YEAH, I THINK I DO."

"What is it then? Wait, don't talk, let me cover my ears first." He did as he said. "Okay, go ahead."

"I WANT TO DANCE A LOT."

"Hey, I'm always in the mood for a dance. And covering my ears still didn't work! Damn it."

"I FEEL LIKE YOU'RE KIND OF TALKING TO YOURSELF. YOU KNOW WHAT THAT'S CALLED?"

"…train of thought?"

"MONOLOGUE."

"Nerd."

"VERY FUNNY."

Come on, come on, come on,

Come on, come on, come on,

Number one party anthem.

Come on, come on, come on,

Before the moment's gone,

Number one party anthem, yeah, yeah.

Amy was dancing like a lunatic, and Jake was falling hard for those moves. He wasn't thinking clearly as well, downing three drinks in such a short span like that. But he really liked how she moved, how she looked, how she talked. He was falling for this girl he'd just met.

Amy was trying not to process her feelings, choosing to dance them away. But the thoughts kept creeping in. He was cute, hell, he was hot. And charming. And she liked how he smiled, and when his hands brushed her hips when she looked like she was about to fall. He felt secure.

But they'd just met.

"So, what is this stage called?"

"I don't know." Amy gestured to the air, still dancing. "Anything come to mind?"

Just then, Gina showed up.

"Who's dance pants lady over here?"

"Amy dance pants!" Jake exclaimed. "That's perfect!"

Gina rolled her eyes. "You guys are clearly having a moment so…" She grabbed a random bottle from the fridge and disappeared back into the house.

"I hate this."

"Just stop dancing."

"I can't!"

"Then try to at least dance to the rhythm of the song!"

"I don't know how to!"

Jake, who was siting on the kitchen aisle, went up to Amy.

"Can I?"

"It's probably 'may I' you mean, not 'can I'."

"Stop being a nerd and answer the question."

"Depends on what the thing you want to do is."

"I want to guide your crazy dance moves."

"But you're drunk too!"

"I'm fine."

"That's what drunk people say."

He rolled his eyes. He was mad she was right.

"Look just, trust me all right? I'll promise not to do anything inappropriate."

"That just makes me more suspicious."

"What can I do to make you trust me?"

Amy's sporadic movements were the only thing breaking the silence.

"Okay, fine. Guide me."

He smiled.

"Okay, follow my lead."

Placing one hand on her hip and another on her shoulder, they both stood still. The music swelled to the bridge, and Jake tried to make Amy follow his logic.

The look of love, the rush of blood,

The "she's with me"'s, the Gallic shrug,

The shutterbugs, the Camera Plus,

The black and white and the colour dodge,

The good time girls, the cubicles,

The house of fun,

The number one party anthem, oh.

The dance went as well as expected. Being both slightly drunk, they tripped, they stepped on each other, they giggled, they laughed, they stopped dancing.

"Okay, you were right."

"Told you so."

"Why are you such a smart ass, anyway?"

Amy looked at him, with an inquisitive look.

"Smart ass?"

"Okay, I didn't mean to phrase it like that. I meant it more like, in a way that you seem to know everything." He laughed. "Except dancing, of course."

She blushed. "Hey, you couldn't dance, too!"

"I only couldn't dance because you kept stepping on my feet!"

"Hey! You know what, usually I'd say I'm a bad dancer, but you wouldn't stop swaying from side to side!"

"Did not!"

"Yes, you did!"

Come on, come on, come on,

Come on, come on, come on,

They were bickering, slowly approaching one another, without the other realising.

Come on, come on, come on,

Come on, come on, come on,

Their faces were closer than they'd ever been, but they kept talking.

Before the moment's gone,

And then they kissed. It wasn't a drunk kiss (though they were still somewhat drunk), but more of a natural attraction of two poles. They kissed, they giggled, they kissed some more, they talked.

Number one party anthem,

Number one party anthem,

They exchanged phone numbers, and they kept talking. A few months later, they began dating.

Number one party anthem, yeah, yeah.

"Give it a few years, and they'll get married." Gina said to someone that night. Little did she know, a few years after graduating college, she'd be at her best friend's wedding.