A/N: Greetings!

This little baby created is a one-shot, songfic which was inspired by Madonna – Take a Bow. Slightly different approach as this fic, chops and changes so there are multiple points of views from both characters. It could be argued that this fic is femslash or implies such themes but that's up to you guys to decide. So don't like? Don't read! *only warning*

Also, even though I have uploaded this fic, I cannot take full credit!

This fic was a collaboration of my self and the wonderfully talented GloriaNewt.

This was a wee sweet fic as the lyrics of this song fit perfectly as we discovered and agreed. Please note, maybe worth your time to skip away and listen to the song prior to reading (just a wee suggestion) Lyrics is in bold font.

We own nothing. Song is the property of Madonna and characters of that of Jill Murphy. Blah, blah, etc etc...

So just read and enjoy! Reviews and pm's are good

Of Fire and Ice

Fire and ice two opposing elements of nature. All powerful in their own realm. Fire to cleanse and bring about destruction, ice to forever preserve and solidify. Together, neither can exist without the destruction of the other…..

Take a bow, the night is over
This masquerade is getting older
Light are low, the curtains down
There's no one here
(There's no one here, there's no one in the crowd)

Constance Hardbroom sighed softly as she stared back into the mirror that had been propped carefully against the wall, still trying in vain to fix her glistening tiara in place, her hands trembling in a mix of growing frustration at her own fumbling ineptitude, but more so at the devastating exchange that had led to the development of the bleeding gash within her heart, grateful for the protective darkness of the low lighting of the backstage, free to merge into the shadows once more, free to slink away and lick her wounds like an injured animal in the wild.

A couple of third years ran past, shrieking loudly, positively fizzing with the effervescence of pent up adrenaline and excitement, but she was too numb to even consider raising her voice angrily in her customary style, staring blankly at the empty hall which would soon be occupied by the entire student body, expecting to see the pantomime that had been so eagerly anticipated for weeks. She felt like a lioness in the circus, forced into the degrading fairy costume and expected to parade around in a choreographed routine for the enjoyment of the gawping eyes that would be fixed upon her in savage delight. Surely, seeing the wicked HB cast as the Fairy Godmother would be like seeing a dog walking upon its hind legs, a freak show in which the goggling public would pay to line up and take a shot at her pride with their laughs and jeers, pride which was already lying in bloody tatters thanks to the words of one Lavinia Crotchet…

Say your lines but do you feel them
Do you mean what you say when there's no one around (no one around)

Lavinia's words or rather failed attempt to explain why she had been cast as Fairy Godmother had only reinforced what her brooding mind had been debating about for some time, the dark, negativity rolling around within her aching temples like a thunderstorm of pessimism, firmly stuck in the doldrums of her own damning reflections. Granted, it had pained her harshly, Lavinia's character assassination so cutting that she wanted nothing more than to vanish from the prying eyes that were spying mercilessly upon her, disappear into the comforting world of invisibility where nobody, hostile or not in their intentions could see her. For someone to actually voice what everyone had thought was devastating

'In your case that is someone who is kind, sensitive, generous, warmhearted…' her voice punctured my consciousness and for the first time in years, I could feel the sensation of tears.

Rather than wait, she decided, I could take calm, logical action. I would sever her warm hands that offered me nothing but comfort. I would sever everything, in order to protect myself. It should be easy, after all a cold heart is a dead heart and I knew what everyone thought about me, constantly belittled in the shadows as the ice maiden cometh. For so long, I had been alone that I was unreachable, unable to feel or comprehend the want or warmth of human touch.

Watching you, watching me, one lonely star
(One lonely star you don't know who you are)

Then, she happened!

She had been nothing but a troublesome and persistent splinter that aggravated my nerves but she eventually wore me down. No matter, how cruel and patronizing I was, she was always there, to forgive and forget. The sight of her began to melt my heart and defrost my soul; my heart fluttered which was a reminder that even I possessed such an organ and I felt alive again, but it was that trust that had left the door open for pain, lowering my iron-clad defenses to the cruel rebukes and stinging words that the world had to throw at me.

For so long, I ached and craved for such affection, I wanted someone else's hand instead of my own pale, cold hand in which to grant me a release but now...

Now everything had all changed, clouded and confused. Everything had become complicated and chaotic and I felt as if I were slowly drowning, my screams silenced and burden so overwhelming, the immense pressure to make this relationship was too great.

I've always been in love with you (always with you)
I guess you've always known it's true (you know it's true)
You took my love for granted, why oh why
The show is over, say good-bye

I smiled and waved but she turned her back on me. At first, I thought it was stage fright after all Lavinia had cast her as the role of Fairy Godmother, gone was her usual black attire and in place was a shimmering white angel. I blushed when I saw her for the first time at dress rehearsal, she looked perfect.

But, I was too busy maintaining the peace backstage with hormonal teenage students, a stage production and a niggling sensation at the back of my mind however I would have to ignore my instinct that something was brewing on the horizon and focus to make Lavinia's version of Cinderella, a success.

"Imogen...Imogen," panted Lavinia as she quickly grabbed my arm, leading my to a quiet corner

"Is everything alright? Not another disaster?"

She shamefully looked at her feet before speaking, "Oh Imogen! I can only apologize...I fear, I may have said something!"

"Said something? I haven't spoken to you since supper.."

She shook her head impatiently and glanced over her shoulder nervously, "No! not to you...to Constance. I think...in fact, I'm sure I've hurt her feelings."

"Oh, how so?"

"She was getting distressed about the show and seemed out of sorts...distracted so I tried to reassure her about her character...that she should look deep within and find someone warmhearted and kind..."

I closed my eyes, I knew that Constance put on a brave face but in all honestly, she was more fragile and sensitive than she would allow people to witness. Yes, she was strict but these were not just any students. They were young witches and some would try to undermine the rules of the school or unwittingly let a spell get out of control. Constance was strict because she had to be, to prevent any student from injuring themselves or others and teach them that for everything act there are direct consequences, like dropping a pebble into a calm body of water. The spell was the pebble and the everlasting ripples were the fallout from that spell.

"I'm sorry, Imogen...I know that she has come on leaps and bounds...I hope what I've said won't affect your relationship?"

How could I stay angry at Lavinia? Of course, I was slightly annoyed but she was a scatterbrain but lovable like an aunt plus she was the only one that I truly trusted to share my deep, most inner thoughts with. At first, I was apprehensive about exposing mine and Constance' newly forming relationship but I was blissfully happy, my spirit was soaring high into the atmosphere and felt even more so when Lavinia wished us the best, of course, I could never tell Constance that someone else knew about us!

"I'll speak to her after the show...I'm sure everything will be alright."

Say good-bye (bye bye), say good-bye

But deep down, that feeling returned. An ominous sense of dread...

Make them laugh, it comes so easy
When you get to the part
Where you're breaking my heart (breaking my heart)

Standing patiently in the shadows, Constance flinched involuntarily at the sight of Maud Moonshine striding viciously around the stage in her flowing black dress, the "Evil Potions mistress" becoming the "Evil Stepmother" in one fluid transition, played with a savage glee by the downtrodden student, seizing her chance to gain public revenge against all those cruel words and detentions, all her scathing remarks and criticisms lapped up with glee by the audience, a baying pack of wolves howling for her blood. All her trademark details from the tight bun to the jangling key chain slung around the young girl's waist copied to perfection and turned against her, a figure of fun, the cruel figure of authority tormenting Mildred Hubble and bullying the popular heroine of the school beneath her sneering contempt. No change there then.

"Is that really how they see me?" she breathed hoarsely, her lip trembling at the volley of boos that greeted the appearance of her doppelganger. A tear slipped unnoticed down her pale cheek in a frozen trail as she stared unseen at the audience, nothing more than a ghost in her snowy white gown, a stranger with their nose pressed to the window of the joyous family scene, shut out in the cold as she heard the raucous laughs ringing heartily from the assembled audience, even Amelia clutching her sides in mirth as she watched the ritual execution of Constance's character. Even betrayed by the woman who had cared for her like a mother, every hearty laugh from the headmistress freezing in its tracks and turning into shards of ice which penetrated Constance's despairing heart like glass daggers.

Hide behind your smile, all the world loves a clown
(Just make 'em smile the whole world loves a clown)
Wish you well, I cannot stay
You deserve an award for the role that you played (role that you played)
No more masquerade, you're one lonely star
(One lonely star and you don't know who you are)

She gritted her teeth and waltzed triumphantly onto the stage, so detached from reality that it almost felt as if she were still watching from the wings as the Fairy Godmother floated gracefully away from her across the stage. Still acting the part, still unable to betray her darkest thoughts or fears to anyone, nothing more than a clown with her painted face, the bogus smile daubed on widely in greasepaint, gaudy enough for people to miss the tears falling unnoticed from her eyes, a front to hide behind.

Say good-bye (bye bye), say good-bye

Still carrying her prop wand, she stared at it with disgust and malice. Completing her task of performing, pretending to be something that she was or never could be. Her hands gripped the prop and effortlessly snapped it into two before viciously throwing the offending object as far out of sight as she could manage.

As the applause and cheering continued, marking the outstanding success of Cackle's first pantomime, Constance wanted nothing more than to escape, she played her part and now it was time to return to reality.

Cold, harsh reality, no second chances or rehearsals.

Then, a voice called after her

'Not her...anyone but her.' she thought before attempting another performance of a lifetime, the sad story of her life.

Imogen's beaming smile could barely contain her mood, trapped in her own little bubble, immune to what was truly happening, her hand automatically reaching out for my arm.

"You were fantastic...enticing to watch."

"So you did not laugh?" I asked tentatively, deep down I already knew the answer, they all laughed, I was nothing but a joke, a figure of ridicule.

"I laughed...Constance, you do know that a pantomime is theatre comedy. Everyone gets laughed at!"

All the world is a stage (world is a stage)
And everyone has their part (has their part)

"Could I trouble you for an autograph?" joked Imogen, sensing the heavy tension but still not understanding the underlying current of emotions.

"Are you making fun of me?" came the snarled reply as Constance brushed past into her dressing room, desperate to shed the sparkly fairy wings as quickly as humanly possible.

She sighed, used to my sometimes defensive and erratic mood swings althought a small smile still remained on her lips

"It was my feeble attempt at a joke, humor...Constance!"

"Stop...please, I need to be alone."

Imogen felt the dread suddenly return and Lavinia's apology echoing loudly in her ears. Was this the beginning of the end? She had to stop it, make Constance see sense.

She cleared her throat, following me persistently into the dressing room, "I thought we could celebrate the success of Cackle's first pantomime?" she suggested

"Leave me alone, Imogen..."

"I can't, I'm afraid." she finally confessed.

Had it been that obvious? Constance had thought playing this part in her life was a role she could win an award for, instead of the false Fairy Godmother but even in reality, she was not convincing.

Her eyes could not even face her.

Weak!

Instead she stared down at the ground, "I cannot do this anymore, Imogen..."

She gasped, filled with pain, her heart was breaking in front of me and I had caused it. But it was for her own good, my own good.

"Constance...don't. I'll do anything, say anything. But don't do this."

Instead, I chose to remain silent, locking myself back into my shell and shrugged away from her hand. I pulled away from her warmth, pulled away from her love, pulled away from her heart.

But how was I to know which way the story'd go
How was I to know you'd break
(You'd break, you'd break, you'd break)
You'd break my heart

I swallowed my anger hastily, "You can't even look at me, can you?"

Constance paused momentarily but stubbornly refused to turn to look at me.

The coward.

"You owe me a better explanation than that! Common courtesy would dictate a civilized conversation between the two of us...you forget, there are two people in this relationship..."

The silence was deafening. Gone were the pathetic pleas, I was determined to have my voice heard and be dammed what the great Constance Hardbroom thought. She could not be allowed to just do that! Walk out of the carefully constructed relationship without any thought about me! I existed too, I was in this failing relationship and yet she failed to acknowledge me.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me that you don't love me, that you feel nothing towards me! Go on, say it!" snapped Imogen, her green eyes ablaze, "Because if I mean nothing to you, what on earth have the past three weeks been- a dream? Nothing but a glorious daydream? Are you telling me that none of this is real, that I can't feel my heart beat that little bit faster whenever I see you? Her voice softened as she stepped closer, a slight break of emotion cracking within her voice, "That I can't think of anyone else but you?" She lowered her voice to an urgent whisper, "Don't do this Constance, please don't do this to me…" She reached forward to brush an unruly dark curl of hair away from the taller woman's forehead, the feather-light touch of her warm fingers sending a sudden shiver through the witch who frantically tried to pull herself away from the contact, her eyes filled with fear, unable to categorize the alien feelings that were racing within her. "I need you…"

Imogen was close, far too close, she could see every one of her long, golden eyelashes, feel the warmth of her breath upon her neck which was causing little goosebumps to raise themselves upon the swan-like skin, her heart thudding as the non-witch leaned ever closer, her slightly parted cherry lips brushing hungrily against Constance's, a soft, welcoming embrace that conveyed far more feeling than words could ever hope to as the velvety lips caressed her own.

'Enough!' screamed her logical mind in panic as all rationality threatened to abandon her senses as she unconsciously leaned into the kiss, the anxiety causing sparks of magic to repel the younger woman, pinning her harshly up against the opposing wall with her hands behind her back.

"I-Imogen..." she stammered awkwardly, almost apologizing for her actions, her usually porcelain features blushing a crimson red, tears glistening momentarily within her hazel eyes which were wild with terror, effortlessly betraying her usual calm facade.

"I-I can't…" she choked, turning on her heel and fleeing from the dressing room, slamming the door behind her, leaving nothing but a trail of glittering fairy-dust to ever betray that she had been present at all at the unfortunate scene.

I've always been in love with you
(I've always been in love with you)

Imogen rubbed her shoulder angrily where a bruise was already throbbing beneath the surface, staring obstinately at the closed door before coming to her senses and running decisively after the disappearing form of the elusive witch through the gloom of the deserted backstage.

"Constance Hardbroom, come back here!" she shouted furiously as she swept athletically through the abandoned mountains of clothing and scenery, winding an uncertain path through the steel racks, the terrain unfamiliar in the semi light, uncaring if anyone were to overhear her desperate pleas.

"Don't you dare run away from me again!" she demanded breathlessly, pausing to squint into the suffocating gloom, desperately seeking the powerful sorceress.

A sudden movement caught her eye and she wheeled around to face the main stage. Framed in a narrow spotlight of silvery moonlight that was trickling lazily into the dark, the mighty sorceress sat helplessly, somehow weaker when reduced from her impressive height, her bony knees hunched up beneath her chin, her swan like neck bent forwards elegantly to its full extent, the low cut back of the white dress revealing her milky alabaster flesh, her spine protruding uncomfortably from beneath the emaciated skin, her willowy arms wrapped tightly around her knees, her snowy ballet shoes untied and placed carefully in front of her, the embodiment of grace even within her melancholy and despair.

"Constance…"

Even the faint whisper was enough for the raven-haired beauty to whip around, her dark eyes red raw from crying, a crack in her voice as she retorted angrily, almost childish in the manner that she clenched her fists, nails digging tightly into her palms.

"Leave me alone!" she growled ominously, luminous sparks of red magic leaping threateningly from the tips of her bared fingers, ashamed of being seen in such a powerless state, prepared to retaliate if Imogen took a step closer.

"I love you..." breathed Imogen, stammering slightly, her voice catching huskily in her throat as she confessed her heart's desires to the echoing darkness, "I-I have always loved you, despite however hard you try to push me away, I will always be there…"

Constance stopped abruptly, "What? What? What, did you say?" she snapped urgently, her voice harsh and unforgiving, almost scaring Imogen.

"I said that I..."

"NO! No!...you cannot say that...do not say...under any circumstances can you utter those words!"

Imogen's bottom lips began to tremble, "But...it's true." she whispered, slowly reaching out for Constance's immobile form.

Guess you've always known
You took my love for granted, why oh why
The show is over, say good-bye

Constance shook her head, not wanting to believe what she had heard, it was just a cruel joke, similar to Maud playing her as the evil stepmother, "You don't know that...you don't know what you want...just...just leave." she muttered, turning her back on Imogen as she climbed wearily to her bare feet.

"But, I can't...I don't want to, please..." pleaded Imogen, her eyes wide and troubled.

"If I really loved you," began Constance firmly as she flinched away from Imogen's outstretched arm, "I'm doing the right thing by walking away right now!" She went quiet, a humorless snort of disgust passing from between her dark lips, "You don't deserve to be shackled to me, a bitter, lonely throwback! It would only be cruelty to you, and I want you to be free," she paused from her angry tirade, tears glistening in her hazel eyes, a desperate stress falling upon her next words, "So I'm asking you, pleading with you, for it to be over... for your sake if not mine as well..."

Say good-bye (bye bye), say good-bye
Say good-bye

As Constance walked away her heart was breaking in two, tears welling up without restraint in her hazel eyes as she padded softly towards the imposing double doors of the Great Hall, barely wincing at the contact with the icy floor. She knew that she had to keep walking, one foot in front of the other with not one backwards glance…. and yet, like a magnet, she found her head staring back over her shoulder at the beautiful woman in the shadows, her tanned hand running distractedly through her cropped blonde hair as she too remained staring, her eyes meeting Constance's forlornly, but with the ever present, abiding spark of love, the eternal flame that refused to be extinguished, faltering in the turbulence of the breeze but never dying…