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Let Loose

Summary:

DWC prompt: Let loose

In this fic a familiar looking Morty has a word with the reader after she causes Zeta-7 undue anxiety

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Every year, as you had come to find out not that long ago, the Mortys had their own event very similar to RickCon, called MortyCon; how original. Unlike Ricks, Mortys were very sweet, good-natured, and impressionable. You couldn't deny that you preferred their company over Ricks, but it wasn't often that you found one without the other; how sad. Now, you found yourself standing next to Zeta-7 at the after party, who was one of the chaperones; you came as his date. He might of thought he was the lucky one when he picked you up, seeing you in your little black dress, but you were all the more blessed, and couldn't keep your eyes off him, since he was dressed like a dream in his navy, three piece suit, colorful tie, and his hair slicked back. And with the music blasting through the speakers, and song choices courtesy of Miami Morty who liked to dj as well as party, you wanted nothing more than to see him strut his stuff on the dance floor.

“Come on Rick,” you cooed, pulling on his tie to grab his attention. “won't you dance with me?”

Being the respectable, but even more responsible grandpa/employee, he took his job very seriously. “I'm sorry, but I-I should really make sure the M-Mortys behave themselves.”

“Oh, they'll be fine. Look, they're too busy dancing with the Jessica holograms.”

Which for the most part was true, though there were a few that tried to do more then dance. Ew.

“Gosh, I'd love t-t-to but,” he paused, watching the various Mortys dance their little hearts out, smiling with a bittersweetness which reminded you of what he didn't have. He continued. “I need t-t-to keep them safe.”

“Couldn't you keep them safe and dance? I'm sure it wouldn't hurt to dance a little.”

“B-but….”

You almost had him where you wanted him, and you knew it was wrong to try to persuade him so, but sometimes you couldn't help but feel inclined to do so. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you gave him a sweet kiss that made a few Mortys curious, and giggled at his reluctance to reciprocate, even though he seemed to enjoy it. “Come Rick, let loose, live a little. Don't tell me I dressed like this for nothing.”

Pressing your body a little closer, he looked down, then straight up. He chewed on his bottom lip, ruminating a little, and sighed as he pulled away. “You - you really are b-beautiful, but I-I can't. I have t-t-to make sure everything goes a-as planned. Please try t-t-to understand.”

“Fine,” you pouted. “be that way. I'll be over there dancing with the Morticia's.”

“M-Mi corazón, y-y-you don't have to go.”

“It's whatever. I know you're supposed to be working, but honestly, I just want to dance. And I'm gonna. It'd be bad if I was a distraction now wouldn't it?”

You walked off, annoyed, but disappointed. Not by Rick. Okay, maybe a little, but mostly with yourself. Whatever expectations you had, you tried to swallow them down with a few drinks, and dancing with everything you had.


All evening, you felt Ricks eyes follow you about the room. He was anxious, worried, and distressed. You thought that maybe it was about time you apologized. It wasn't fair to do this to him. Zeta-7 wasn't the kind of man who'd refuse you unless he had a good reason, and perhaps he had spoiled you in way that made you believe you had claim to him whenever you had a whim, but that wasn't right. And you were about to make your way towards him, until you were pulled into a dance by a familiar looking Morty; eyepatch Morty. “Don't I know you?” you asked. 

With an eye roll, he answered. “That's not important. You came with Zeta didn't you?”

“Yeah.”

“Then, what are you doing to him?”

“Me?”

“Yes, obviously. Don't you see it's killing him? You know he's only going to worry about it.”

You didn't know what to make of this. One, this was only your second meeting. And two, how did he know Zeta-7 well enough to know that?

“Look, I don't know why it's important to you, but I was about to apologize. ”

“You better.” He stressed with a coldness which made you shiver; this morty acted more like a Rick then a clumsy teenager. 

Twirling you around, he dipped you, before pulling you back up, and effortlessly waltzing with you. All his movements were controlled, and his moves and skill reminded you of a certain a Rick you knew. And if you were correct, it could only mean that he'd probably learned from your Rick. When the dance was over, he bowed, and left without a word; his glare a final warning. And you didn't waste any time running back to Zeta-7, latching on to him, seeking his comfort as you apologized. For his part, he held you tight, sorry that he had upset you, but you stopped him. “No Rick, I shouldn't have acted that way. I hate to tell you, but you've spoiled me a little too much, and now I'm only turning into a fool. I wanted you all to myself, but that's not what's most important to you at the moment.”

“Y-y-y-y-you don't have to apologize,” he softened, happy to have you near him again. “I um - I feel th-the same, but it's - we'll get our chance soon. When the dance is over, w-we can have this place all t-to ourselves if you like.”

“No, I'll do whatever you want Rick. If you can forgive me.”

Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he smiled. “O-o-okay.”

Finding his form in the crowd, eyepatch morty flashed you what could almost be called a half smile before he disappeared amongst the hundreds of others that looked just like him. And hiding your face, in Zeta-7s sweet smelling chest, you listened to him hum, as you tried to forget who it was that gave you the warning.