Let me just say this: I never claimed to be good at writing anything romantic (or something similar to it), so just bear with me :)

Disclaimer: I don't own this series, no.

Daphne had been waiting for well over an hour. Well, maybe because she'd arrived an hour and a half earlier than she'd told him she would, but she couldn't help it. Dancing! she thought with elation. Even if her dance partner was as foul-tempered as he was, she couldn't wait. She'd always wanted to learn how twirl elegantly like those ballerinas on TV. They looked so effortlessly beautiful and, like the girly girl she was, she couldn't resist being mesmerized by them. She and Pinocchio were only doing a simple dance, but still! This was the first time she'd been allowed to dance in front of people!

She'd been practicing alone ever since she'd seen the ballerinas on TV. There were probably plenty of people in Ferryport Landing who could've tutored her, but she'd resolved to get better bit by bit on her own by studying their moves on tapes. She couldn't wait to show her sister and mother her new moves! And what better way to start than during this play?

When she finally heard the door creak open, she had plopped down on the ground, breathing hard. She twisted around to see him poke his head in before cautiously letting the rest of him follow.

"Hello, Daphne." He said with melancholy. "I see that you've been practicing."

He cringed, and before she could reply, he added, "I didn't mean to point out something obvious. It's a bad habit that I've been trying to break."

"Hi, Pinocchio," Daphne said, laughing. He frowned momentarily, but then quickly seemed to brighten up.

"If you want, we can practice later since you look tired," he suggested.

"I'm not that tired," Daphne protested firmly. "Pinnochio, the play is in two weeks. We need to start practicing as soon as we can."

He sagged again at her words, before nodding. "You're right."

Daphne blinked. He'd just casually admitted that she was right, instead of starting a big argument over how she wasn't. He's changed a bit, at least, she thought.

"Though we should wait a few minutes. At least until you get your breath back."

"Thanks," Daphne acknowledged, standing up and heading over to the wall where she'd propped a towel and water bottle against. She picked up the towel and wiped off the sweat that had been glistening over her skin. Wow, it does look like I've been working hard, she thought. She gulped down some water before replacing them both against their former positions against the wall and turning around. Pinocchio had seated himself against the door, and was now in the process of staring at the ceiling silently. He sighed. Daphne almost sighed after him, but caught herself. This was supposed to be fun, she thought crossly. Instead, he's making me feel almost depressed.

"So... Pinocchio," she started. He looked up at her with the expression of someone giving attention to a child who had interrupted something important. She managed to barely keep on her cheerful smile. "What have you been up to for the past few weeks? After you moved out of the house, I haven't seen you too much. Well, except for school, I mean."

"Why do you ask? Is it because you really do want to know, or are you trying to keep up some sort of conversation? Because if it's the latter, both you and I have nothing at all in common, so I wouldn't bother."

Daphne paused and took a deep breath. Like Ms. White said, in... and slowly, out. There was no need to start an argument over something so trivial.

"No, I was just curious. If you don't want to answer me, you don't have to," she said, smiling sweetly.

"Okay then." He said, nodding. Then he resumed staring at the apparently fascinating patch of yellowish paint on the ceiling. Daphne resisted her urge to tell him to at least pretend to be mature and polite, but she knew the huge argument that had started the last time she'd said that wasn't worth it. Let's just get this practice thing over with, she thought, abandoning all thoughts of making the experience fun.

"I'm ready." She said. Pinocchio looked back down at her with a scowl, but then he sighed and stood up. He dusted the back of his pants off before nodding in resigned determination.

"Let's begin." He said, walking toward her. "Cinderella and the Prince meet eyes even though they're surrounded by many people and dancers. Then walk towards each other, mesmerized by the other's beauty. All we have to do is keep out of their way and look busy."

He paused a bit away from her and sighed again.

"Do we really have to rehearse? It's such a small part- no one is going to notice how well the other dancers are dancing. Besides, what if some of the dancers are naturally clumsy? It would fit in with the story, too. The Prince did invite many people of common birth, not just royals and- "

"Pinocchio, we both get graded on this. Do you really want anything less than a perfect score? You know you don't, so quit stalling and let's start already!"

He donned a sour expression and muttered something like "Don't pretend that you know me."

But he bowed anyway, and when he looked up, he had a strained smile on. Neither of them had lines, so they'd have to make do with expressions.

"You look like you just ate some lemons." Daphne commented, giggling. He scowled, but then he sighed and smiled again.

"Better," Daphne said, curtseying back. She stepped forward and accepted his proffered hand. All they really had to do was step forward, back, side to side and then have Daphne twirl while Pinocchio held her hand then repeat, but they'd been failing every practice session at school so far, and had only mollified their annoyed teacher by promising to do extra practice.

"Ow! Pinocchio!"

"I'm sorry!"

The pair stopped and stepped away, Pinocchio blushing furiously.

"It's step front, then- "

"I know the order," he snapped.

"Then why do you keep messing it up?" Daphne asked angrily. She hadn't wanted to accuse him like that, but this was probably the tenth time he'd done that!

"Because... "

Daphne waited, but he didn't continue.

"Because?" She asked, refusing to drop the question. He didn't move, but then he turned on his heel and stalked towards the door.

"Let's just ask to get different partners tomorrow," he said.

"Wait! Are you saying that I'm the problem?"

"Yes, I am."

"Stop being a jerkazoid! What did I do? You're the one whose been messing up over and over again! It's a simple little dance!"

He froze.

"'Jerkazoid' is a childish word made by an even more childish person."

Daphne tried to calm down before she said anything rash, but the words flew out of her mouth before she could help it. "As if you're not childish. The more you pretend you're not, the more you are."

"I'm not childish!" He snapped, turning around.

"Just tell me why you can't do a little dance right, then! All you have to do is- "

"It's not my fault I'm clumsy! You're just too distracting! You act like a child, but you're a great dancer!"

Daphne stared at him, her mouth open, half-way through coming up with a retort.

"Wha- " was how far she got before she just stared blankly at him. Pinocchio had complimented her? Was that even possible?

"What? Don't tell me you didn't know. I saw you practice at the gym once, after all the rehearsals for the play were over. You were doing Cinderella's part way better than what Bella was doing herself."

Daphne continued to stare at him, before clearing her throat. "Thanks."

"That wasn't a compliment! I was simply stating an obvious observation. It's the only talent you have, besides being ridiculously optimistic and doing your best at everything."

And he was still complimenting her? Was he even aware that he was? It didn't matter, because Daphne was smiling at him, now. She laughed.

"And you're honest and blunt all the time, and even though it gets you into trouble, I think it's awesome. You're a really hard worker, too, and- "

He held up a hand to gesture her to stop and glared at her.

"I said they weren't compliments! You don't have to start being nicer to me or start listing the things you like about me. I'm still getting a new partner tomorrow."

He turned away again, but before he could pull the door open, Daphne crossed the room to him and put a hand on the door before she leaned against it.

"No way. You're my partner, so you should get used to it. It'll only create confusions if you tell everyone that you don't want to partner up with me."

He glowered at her. "Daphne, move out of the way."

"Fine. But only after you dance with me one more time."

He paused. He opened his mouth as if to protest, but then closed it again. Then he nodded.

"Okay. But I want you to know that you shouldn't think that you'll somehow change my mind."

"We're going to do the dance for Cinderella and the Prince."

"What?!"

Daphne looked at him impatiently. "I said we're going to- "

"I know what you said. But why?"

Daphne shrugged. "You should have the Prince's moves memorized by now, right?"

"Yes, but- "

"Then, come on." Daphne said, grabbing his hand and dragging him to the middle of the room. "Let's start. Just close your eyes and pretend I'm not here."

"Then I'll obviously do the dance completely wrong!"

"You have a perfect memory. You won't."

Pinocchio gave her an exasperated look before sighing. "You'll let me leave as soon as we're done?"

"Yep." Daphne said, already rewinding the song back to the beginning. She stood up and then ran back to him.

He scowled at her, but didn't comment at her choice of wording. Then he closed his eyes, and laid one hand on her shoulder while offering the other one to her. She took it, smiling.

"Just forget the place around you," she advised. "Just picture yourself in the Prince's place and pretend that you are him, finally finding the girl that you'd been searching for."

"How is that supposed to help?" He muttered, but seemed to comply. At least he straightened his back and his expression changed. He smiled, and it looked real, this time. Daphne almost stumbled. Woah. That is the first time I've actually seen him smile, isn't it? He looks completely different. But she didn't stumble, and she was glad. He would've opened his eyes and then scowled again.

They swept into the first move perfectly, and Daphne forgot herself for a moment and closed her eyes, too. The dance went smoothly against all odds. Daphne could picture herself in a glittering ball gown, twirling and moving smoothly in step with the music, staring lovestruck into her Prince's eyes. It felt wonderful, as if she'd just stepped out of her reality and into one completely different, where Pinocchio smiled openly at her and forgot all the bitterness that he'd been holding ever since he'd been turned into a never-aging boy.

She laughed at one point, delighted by how flawlessly they were dancing, but she was barely aware of it. I wonder if I look beautiful, like those ballerinas? Maybe as beautiful as Cinderella herself?

But the song came to a close and she had to reluctantly open her eyes. Pinocchio stepped back, looking smug.

"You didn't think I could do it, did you?" He asked. "You were treating me like a child needing to be tutored."

She blinked at him, confused for a second, wondering what had happened to that beautiful smile.

"I knew I could do better that that. I've been to many of the balls that took place back then."

He frowned when Daphne didn't say anything.

"Why did you close your eyes, too? We could've collided or stumbled."

"Because it was magical enough to make me close my eyes." Daphne said, finally regaining her senses.

He looked disbelievingly at her, but didn't say anything. As Daphne stared after him, he turned on his heel and headed towards the door again.

"Fine, I won't ask to change partners. I didn't think we could dance together so smoothly. Bye."

Then Daphne was left staring at the closed door. She tried to shake herself out of her daze. But the floor had spun below her so smoothly! And it had felt magical. She couldn't understand how Pinocchio hadn't paused to marvel at how amazing their dance had been. Instead, he'd treated it like something he'd needed to prove himself as professional in.

"I don't understand you at all, Pinocchio." Daphne said, sighing. She glanced at the clock above the door, and would've laughed. It was twelve. In the noon, though, not in the night. Fate was playing with her. If it had been midnight, she'd have been tempted to say something corny like 'It looks like I've found my prince.'