Okay, today I've taken a break from writing Destination, Unknown (which I will update soon, for those who care) and a lot of scribbles are just springing into my mind and hacking away at my resolve... figuratively.
I'm listening to Wild Horses by The Sundays (the one that Buffy and Angel danced to in The Prom) and I got to wondering just how Buffy would feel as they danced. I wrote a short thing like this in The Way We Were, but I wanted to lengthen it. Enjoy, comment if you like.
Warning: it's damn cheesy.

He held me in his arms and the music gave us permission to just… be.

We swayed gently, without thought, without pain, without anything except for each other. We were all that was, and that crowded dance-floor fell away, leaving only the bittersweet comfort we found in our embrace. I knew it would end and that it couldn't be, but while this music suspended us into a place beyond time, I forgot. For just a few simple minutes, I forgot.

That was my graduation present.

My hand was resting in his, placed over his long silent heart; the peace in his chest perfectly mirroring the peace on his face. He felt my gaze and opened his eyes, his lips brushing my ear gently.

"You look beautiful."

My first response was to grin and say 'you don't clean up so bad yourself', but for once I stemmed the flow of words. There was nothing to say that my eyes didn't tell him every time I looked at him, every time I touched him, so I simply smiled up at him and rested my head on his chest once more.

I silently begged a higher power to let this go on forever, and for once it felt like they had heard me.

For what could have been seconds, minutes or hours, we continued to sway in perfect and automatic synchronisation. He realised that the song was finished before I did, and – as always – he was the one to pull away first. I rigidly held myself in place and refused the gravitational pull that was luring me back to him.

Something in his gaze responded to mine, and he took an involuntary step towards me. Determined to be strong however, I stepped back and allowed him leave.

With one last longing look, he turned and walked away. His shoulders were strong, but I could almost feel his brow creasing.

I knew the second that he'd left the building; it felt like all essence had been sucked out of it. My mind was conflicted and I wasn't sure whether to smile or cry, but instead I took a seat at the sidelines and happily watched my friends enjoy their much-deserved night.

They asked me if I was okay, offered me drinks, tried to make me dance, but I was fine where I was. I had lost, but there was a part of me that felt whole. There was a part of us that would always be together, beyond time; suspended in the air;

Dancing.