Some vocabulary for those who wish to understand!

VOCABULARY LESSON

Barre: French for bar - it is also called a ballet barre - it is the bar dancers use to warmup and stretch (not just for ballerinas/os).

Lead: in a paired dance, the male is called a 'lead' (L-ee-d)(Not 'Led')

Follow: in a paired dance, the female is called a 'follow'

Tendu: barre exercise - working leg points forward, to the side, and behind

Relevé: rise up - from a flat foot to pointe or demi-pointe

Grande Plié: it's just a really deep plié

Demi-pointe: to stand on the balls of your feet

Pointe: literally to stand on the tops of your toes

DANCE LESSON

The lead's job is to lead his follow through the choreography.

The follow's job is to follow the leader. She 'reacts' to what the lead wants her to do.

So, say there is an opening in the choreography for an improvisation. It is the lead's job to fill that opening with what he feel's they can do AND DO WELL.

End Lesson.
=)


Chapter 1

"Juvia's sorry, Mira. Juvia can't keep doing this."

Fairy Tail Studio's had recently acquired a female gold medalist dancer from Phantom Lord mere weeks ago in the hopes to bring in more talent to the studio.

"Juvia? What happened?!"

The blunette hobbled out of the studio in anger, her bag over one shoulder and her dance shoes in hand. Mira stepped around her desk and down the hall to the studio doors. She stomped through the entry, confronting their abusive instructor.

"Gajeel! What did you do?!"

The perpetrator stood leaning against the barre, a scowl on his face.

"Hell you want, demon?"

The studio administrator marched up to her most recent thorn, stabbing her finger into his chest.

"How many more dancers are you going to injure? Juvia makes three in a month! You cannot toss them around like rag dolls you—"

She cut off her insult when she noticed the studio actually held a class.

"Relax, demon. Just hire a new girl."

She snorted at his superficial resolution.

"Gajeel, there aren't anymore girls willing to partner with you. You'll have to sit this competition out until—"

"What?!" he interrupted.

"UNTIL we hear back from the other applicants." If there are any left, she added mentally.

He grew furious and moved to stand over her, a physical show of intimidation. The white-haired girl stood her ground and crossed her arms in front of her, unafraid of the hulking man.

His expression broke into a 'tsk' as he stormed out of the studio, rounding the corner towards the showers.

Mira appointed Lisanna as substitute instructor for the remainder of their class while she turned to follow the combatant, preparing to give him a thorough scolding. She had exhausted her resources to pull talent in from anywhere Master Makarov told her too, but even he had to admit there were not many places left to scout.

The office bell rung and Mira rushed to her post, forgetting Gajeel had eluded his reprimand. She first thought that Juvia had come back, but when she had to look down to see the blunette, she realized her mistake.

"Hi, can I help you?" she asked, approaching the counter opposite the girl.

"Hi, I'm Levy McGarden. I received an email that Fairy Tail had an opening for an Instructor?" she inquired.

The timing couldn't have been more perfect. Mira gave her a dazzling smile in response and said, "We do have an opening! We usually finish the paperwork online, so since your here now, would you be willing to warm-up a class?"

The blunette was surprised at the sudden offer of work and accepted without hesitation.

"I still have my clothes in the car, would it be okay if I dressed out?"

Levy was currently in the process of moving back to Magnolia since graduating college. If it weren't for her cat, Pantherlily, spilling her drink over her computer she would have accepted the job days ago instead of waiting to move into town to accept in-person.

The white-haired employee gave her consent and Levy left to collect her dance clothes.

Gajeel had been out of the shower with his gear in hand within minutes. He waited in the hall behind the front desk, the optimal locál for eavesdropping. A new instructor? He had to see. He seized the moment and walked past the desk, halting when no such person was present.

"Yes, Gajeel?" the match-maker demon queried, a tone of false sweetness in her voice.

There was no way he'd reveal such naive curiosity to the paper-pusher, but the strange voice had a magnetic lilt to it: sincere and polite, but an undertone that belied her commanding nature. He liked this new girl.

"New hire?" he caved, eyeing the woman.

She gave a light chuckle and replied, "Yup, she came in early. She's taking over your class."

He stared at the scrawny child walking in through the main door with a well-worn gym bag. No, 'child' was wrong. Her curvaceous hips rocked him to his core, signally her maturity. He took in her physique; strong muscles, thin waist, and a fairy-like quality to her face and air. Her hair was cut in wild angles and he resisted the urge to tug on the strands.

His internal examination was interrupted when the object of his thoughts had tripped over an invisible item, widening her relaxed expression into surprise. His instincts took over and Gajeel stepped into her, catching her in an embrace and saving her head from a blow to the corner of Mira's desk.

Gajeel had already set the little woman on steady feet when Mira jumped up, a late reaction to the situation.

"Watch it, Shrimp," he grunted, releasing the clumsy girl a little too late.

"Thanks," she replied, slightly out of breath, recovering from her accident.

Levy rubbed the goosebumps off her arms and darted towards the signs that signified studio changing rooms.

The skin on Gajeel's arm tingled where the girl had touched him. He stared after her figure had disappeared behind the closed door. He should have been more clever, or asked her name, at least.

"That's Levy," Mira supplied.

"Levy...," he mumbled, filing away her name to remember later.

"Your replacement?"

"What?" he snapped.

"She's the new hire. She's taking over your class until the next competition," the white-haired female reminded him tiredly. Had he not been listening?

He straightened with her words and narrowed his eyes, accepting whatever internal challenge he had dared himself to defeat. He had definitely not been listening to her.

"Like hell she's my replacement," he retorted, swinging his bag off his shoulder and running back into the men's showers to revert back into his dance attire.

Mira could see the glimpse of cleverness that played before her eyes. Master was indeed a smart man to have picked such a girl to be Gajeel's partner.


Levy had finished outfitting herself in her dance wear. Her new tan tights lay snug beneath a layer of old thigh-high socks, the toes of which long since worn out and unraveled. She slipped on the black leather forefoot coverings. She didn't like the common restrictive slippers. She was much more free to dance this way.

She locked up her things in the #9 locker and walked out to the front desk to be pointed towards her awaiting class. There wasn't much to warming up. It was just basic stretches and movements to warm the body. She had done so many times before, but still felt anxious at the thought of having to lead a group. She didn't want to embarrass herself.

The kind woman at the desk was currently on the phone and did not notice Levy approach. She did, however, recognize her savior from before, but he was now dressed in black sweats and a white tank top. His binding muscles were mostly hidden, but she ogled what he allowed her to see. He leaned against the counter, appearing to wait for someone, facing the direction of the showers. Could he have been waiting for her?

"Yer the new shrimp?" he grinned maniacally.

His derogatory slur ruffled her feathers and she replied in a biting manner, "yes."

"Good. Yer with me."

He strolled down a long hall with many doors leading left and right. She assumed they were all studios. He approached an open door, and peeked inside to ensure it was empty. He walked up to the stereo first, selecting a playlist.

"I thought I was supposed to help with a class?" she backtracked. She certainly didn't want to get in trouble before she even started her new job.

"They start in an hour. This is where they meet. Studio G," he pointed to a spot over her head and she followed the direction, seeing both the sign and clock. She looked around the room and took note of the supplies in the studio. There was a wooden box filled with rosin shavings for the days the pointe slippers needed to be not so smooth. She did step into it though, twisting her ankle around to coat the padding. It was a ritual she felt necessary to perform for good luck.

She eyed her male companion suspiciously as he was taking a long while to select music. She sat on the floor and pulled herself into her usual floor stretches, holding each position for a count of ten. When she settled herself into a full center split did the music play. It was an odd electronic noise, but the music itself wasn't what she wanted. As a professional dancer, she liked the consistent beat it provided, like a glorified metronome.

Satisfied with her loose muscles, she approached the barre and stepped into first position. She stretched the arches of her feet before centering her body and dipping into a grande plié. She resolutely ignored the unsettling stare the muscular man was yielding, but when she repeated her tendus en demi-pointe relevé, it became offensive.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you it was rude to stare?" she quipped, still following her barre routine.

A small smile flashed across his face before he resumed his dour look, "This ain't ballet. It's ballroom."

She furrowed her brow, "I'm just warming up."

"What can ya do?" he asked, seemingly interested in speaking to her now.

"A lot."

He raised a pierced brow at her as if to say, prove it. He was actually asking what she danced.

She rolled her eyes and clarified, "I applied for this position to teach the ballet classes. But I also know some ballroom. Waltz and Latin mostly."

"Do you compete?"

His question distracted her and she lost count of how many grande battement tendus she had done.

"No," she snapped.

It was a simple answer, but he seemed to wilt when she said it. She did not like the idea of being compared to other dancers. Levy danced to feel good, not to be the best. She felt a little regret for the way her answer made him react.

"I'm Levy," she offered more gently, still in relevé. She held out her hand to the grumpy dancer.

He took her little hand, and gave it a light shake. An odd warmth settled in her chest when he did so. She liked this man.

"Gajeel."

Levy relaxed her pose, letting her heels come down and touch the floor in fifth position. At her normal height, she was a few inches shy of his shoulder. It was a noticeable difference to have to look up at him.

The grip of his hand changed and he lead her to the center of the empty studio. He fumbled in his pocket for the stereo remote, pushing a series of buttons before returning it to his pocket. A dark, gentle piano came over the speakers and she immediately recognized the triple time of a waltz. So he really wanted to see what she could do?

He turned to her, holding her in a distant embrace. Gajeel was not a gentle partner. Quite the opposite. He was aggressive and demanding, giving signals that were too fast or too hard. They usually ended up falling and when left exposed, injured by another couple, like in Juvia's case. He was angry and impatient and it showed in his abuse. He wanted to be recognized, to be seen as a formidable dancer, but his follows never obeyed. They did not trust him.

Gajeel wanted to test this new girl. She appeared capable and she already knew the core of the dance he had been preparing. It was now a matter of whether or not she was willing to trust him.

Levy watched Gajeel's mouth count off the beats. The intro wound down and she rose onto the balls of her feet. Ballroom dances usually required high-heeled dance shoes, but since she wore none today, it would have to do. Not to mention, it helped mend the difference in their heights. She felt his hand under her right shoulder, raising her arm into proper form. She tilted her head to the side, baring her cheek to him.

There was an impish grin on his face when he looked down at her. She had not specified what type of waltz she knew, but if she was good, it didn't matter.

He stepped forward in beat to the music, and turned them in half as much time as Levy prepared. She was taken off-guard, but did not let it show. He was testing her, after all. It took all of Levy's strength to keep up the speed at which he lead them. It was not a waltz in the conventional sense, but a Viennese Waltz, which was purposefully fast and exaggerated. He signaled for her to spin and she did, acting as an extension to his imagination. When he leaned into her for a dip, she responded accordingly. The dance excited Levy. It felt right to be in his arms. She liked the feeling of his hands on her. But more importantly, he danced divinely. She could tell he tried to be gentle, but he had too much passion to restrain himself. She smiled to herself, feeling as though she was the epitome of grace.

Gajeel was impressed, she had listened to him thus far. The song was coming to a close and he wondered if she could come up with her own movements if he set her up for it. He lead them in graceful arcs around the studio and when he moved to spin her in his arms, he let her go.

The artist in Levy was not phased by her partner's lack of presence. In fact, she soared at the opportunity and continued to spin until she naturally stopped in a classical pose.

"Be my partner."