Disclaimer—Recognizable characters belong to Josh Schwartz and Chris Fedak. No copyright infringement intended. Any similarity to events or persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Author's Notes—Don't know where this little story came from, but it had to be written. Fairly certain it's breaking somewhat new ground... Many thanks to the wonderful and talented Brandywine00 for the beta and words of encouragement. (If you haven't experienced her phenomenal stories... Run, don't walk, go read!!) Warning, J/Ellie Valentine's Day Schmoop ahead...
Spoilers—Nothing critical. General Bartowski family knowledge.
Cinder-Ellie—A magical moment, all but forgotten.
She smiled softly as she unearthed the small jewelry box she'd had since she was a child from where it had been hidden after the move across the courtyard. It contained all of her memories from high school, things she hadn't looked at in years. It was practically a time capsule. She wasn't sure if she wanted to open it yet or wait another decade.
Biting her lower lip, Ellie Woodcomb couldn't resist.
Inside were hand-woven friendship bracelets. She, Heather, Wendy and Angie had made a whole set the summer before their freshman year. There was also a hall pass from her favorite teacher, Mr. Harris. They were normally mundane things unworthy of being a keepsake, but this one was different. It had her name listed as "Joan of Arc" and her destination as "enlightenment."
As she dug deeper, she chuckled softly to herself. She couldn't recall the importance of the green super-bouncy ball, but it must've meant something to her at the time. There were a few graduation cards, her last progress report and a handful of photographs.
She looked through the photos slowly. There was the cast from the sophomore class play after the opening night. There were several shots from basketball homecoming, which had turned out to be a delightful mess after one too many pranks gone awry. There was one of her pulsing something in the blender in her home economics class and one of her and her chemistry lab partner with safety goggles at the Bunsen burner.
It was the last photo that gave her pause, the last photo that transported her back in time more than the others. It couldn't be, could it? There was no way...
The brunette sighed heavily again.
He couldn't help but notice the way she watched every couple in the restaurant with a sadness, a longing in her eyes.
It wasn't hard to deduce what she was missing. Given the sheer number of teenagers in formal attire, it had to be prom night.
He remembered his vividly. Cassandra Miller had worn some pretty pink number, with entirely too many layers of tulle. He remembered the back of the dress, the way the bodice laced up her spine, the way her soft brown hair swung gracefully over her bare shoulders. He remembered that well because that was the last he saw of her before she met up with Derrick Elmore and he was left to man a post by the punchbowl the rest of the evening.
His waitress was a bottle blonde in her mid-thirties he guessed. Being a gentleman and a Marine, he'd never ask. She topped off his water glass before realizing he'd finished his meal. "Can I get you anything else, sugar?" she asked, clearing his plate.
He looked up at her. He was currently on a layover in L.A. While he was eager to leave the dirt of Costa Gravas as far behind as possible, his flight back to D.C. wasn't until the next morning. He had time to kill. "Can I get a little information?"
"Well, sure, I guess," she said. "What would you like to know?"
"The waitress at the tables in the back there," he began slowly. "She didn't get to go to prom?"
She shook her head, looking over at the girl. "No. She's such a sweet kid, too, y'know? It's too bad."
"Something happen?"
She shrugged. "She won't tell any of us. Believe me, we've tried to get the story out of her. My heart just breaks for her."
"One more question," he said.
"Mm?"
"Is there a florist shop around here?"
The restaurant had been busy up until seven, because that was when the senior prom started. She imagined what it would be like. Swirling across the dance floor with her own gorgeous dress. Looking down, however, at the black skirt and white oxford she wore, she felt very much like Cinderella.
Her coworkers had offered to chip in and get her a dress. While it would've been nice to have accepted the money, to buy the beautiful ice blue gown she'd seen in the store window at the mall, she just couldn't. Her father should've paid for it. Her mother should've been there to help her accessorize and fix her hair and makeup.
The thoughts of her parents, of all the things they "should've" done, made her sigh again as she pocketed the measly tip from the last of her classmates.
It was only a stupid dance, she told herself. A boring dance that would be dreadful. Not at all fun. Not something worth her time, energy, effort, or money. Despite all her efforts to convince herself of that, for the hundredth time since waking up that morning, she felt on the verge of tears.
Mentally, she chided herself. For what? Why was she crying over something that didn't mean anything, something that wouldn't last?
"Excuse me, miss..."
She wanted to turn around and snap. She didn't want to deal with people anymore. She didn't want to be at work anymore. She quelled her knee-jerk reaction with a slow breath. "Yes?" she asked as she turned to see him.
He was tall, with broad shoulders, a clean-cut young man in a black suit. He was older than she was, but he was dreamy. Once she was able to pull her hazel eyes from his blue ones, she noticed the plastic package in his hands. It wasn't one of their take-out containers. It held a gorgeous corsage made of white roses with green ivy, tied with a beaded silver and black ribbon.
"Wh..."
"I was wondering if I might have this dance?"
"Oh, I..." She glanced around, noticing that her coworkers had gathered near the kitchen door. Everyone lingered, from the cooks to the servers, even the manager. They were all grinning like idiots, nudging each other and whispering things she couldn't hear. She looked back up at him. She offered him the smallest of smiles. "I'd be honored," she murmured.
He removed the corsage from its box, sliding it on her left wrist when she hesitantly presented it to him. His gold and garnet ring caught the light briefly. "I didn't have a very good prom night either," he told her quietly. "Maybe one dance will make it up to the both of us."
She could only nod, trying to process that a handsome young man was asking her to dance. He'd even bought her flowers. She wasn't sure anyone ever had before.
The ambient music suddenly ended. A few seconds later, Ella Fitzgerald's soulful voice echoed through the silent restaurant, belting out the sultry standard, All the Things You Are.
Even the few remaining patrons stopped to watch as he pulled her gently into his arms. He stood a respectful distance from her, with one hand lightly on her hip, the other holding her hand gently.
She rested her left wrist, with the beautiful corsage, on his shoulder.
For the next few minutes, she wasn't at the restaurant where she worked, wearing her work clothes, dancing in the open space between tables with some light-on-his-feet stranger. For the next few minutes, she was in that ice blue gown, dancing with a prince in a castle ballroom.
Her shoes had to be made of glass instead of scuffed patented leather.
The magic was over almost as suddenly as it had begun, but it had done wonders. She no longer felt like she was missing out, like the only place to find happiness that night was at the school gymnasium with the rest of her class. Instead of being weighted down with pressures of real life, she felt like she was walking on air.
Her smile was genuine as he eased back from her, bowing slightly.
She managed a curtsey in return.
The manager rushed forward from where he'd taken up residence among the rest of the staff, a camera in his hands. "Can't have prom without a picture."
The younger man hesitated, but nodded after seeing the hope in her eyes.
She started to move closer towards him again, but stopped. She nervously ran a hand through her long dark hair.
"You look beautiful," he assured her as he wrapped his arms around her.
"I'm Ellie, by the way," she told him, settling against his chest.
"John," he said, mere seconds before the camera flashed.
She looked out the front window, into the courtyard of her apartment building. Two figures wandered in, chatting amiably. One was her brother. The other was tall, with broad shoulders, a clean cut man in blue jeans and a black polo shirt. The man with blue eyes and a distinctive gold and garnet ring on his right hand.
End.