Dance With Me
"It's the heart afraid of breaking that never learns to dance."

~Bette Midler

She sat nearby, watching them. No, not them.

Her.

The beautiful woman was the only reason why she started looking that direction, the gorgeous features made her settle her eyes on her, the elegant movements made her fascinated and she watched. He just happened to be sitting next to her. The blonde woman was full of energy that night and she was laughing, throwing her head back and leaning into her partner. His hand was resting on her arm, his thumb gently caressing the exposed skin.

Constance imagined how good the soft looking skin must feel under the touch. She imagined how it would feel against her own skin, under her gentle touch, on her lips.

The witch shook her head, trying to come to her senses. Imogen Drill looked happy in Serge's arms, she looked content and very, very straight. The deputy focused her attention on the dancing students instead of stalking Imogen and the very moment she looked she saw Merlin spinning Mildred and pressing her back against his chest. Any other time Constance would interfere but this was their senior prom and they had the right to dance even if it was a little too passionate for her liking. Ethel and Gas were dancing right next to the worst witch and her friend, grinning about the way Merlin messed up a few steps. Even though she planned not to look at the breath-taking PE teacher again (for at least ten minutes), she heard a melodic laugh and automatically followed the sound, her eyes finding Imogen again. The woman was laughing about something her companion said and Constance frowned, not approving of such an unprofessional, loud behavior. She also did not approve of Imogen's boyfriend being so hilarious. It annoyed her that he was able to make her smile and all she was able to get from Imogen were angry looks and frustrated sighs. For a moment, Constance closed her eyes and the idea of pressing the blonde against the cold castle wall and kissing her senselessly crossed her mind. The band was playing tango and it fitted perfectly into her little fantasy. She could almost feel Imogen's hot breath against her skin, whispering inappropriate (but oh, so stimulating) words.

"I am surprised you haven't ruined their fun yet," she heard someone say.

Constance quickly snapped out of her fantasy but it took her a moment of confusion to realize that Imogen was really standing next to her and talking to her - that it was not yet another dream. The woman was dressed in a short black dress, too revealing for a school prom and not revealing enough for Constance's liking. Her arms were exposed as well as her collar bone and it took the witch a great deal of self control not to trace her fingers along it. The dress was made from silk, making the blonde look elegant and girly even with her short hair. A red flower in her hair perfectly contrasted with the dark eye shadows she wore and the dark dress.

"I was tempted, I admit," Constance answered in a voice that did not give away any of her lustful thoughts.

"I can imagine," Imogen grinned. "Come, dance with me."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "I don't dance."

"Not even if I promise to keep my mouth shut for a week in exchange for one dance?" the younger woman batted her eyes and a devilish smile appeared on her red lips.

The witch did not understand why on earth Imogen would want to dance with her. She understood why she longed to take the blonde's hands in her own, to put her palm on the curvy hips and to be just inches apart from her radiating body – because that was all she dreamt of all evening, after all. But why would Imogen want that?

"That is quite a lucrative offer. However, I am suspicious of your intentions, Miss Drill. I thought that young man sitting over there is your dancing partner for the night, not me."

Imogen sighed and waved her hand in the air: "Serge doesn't feel like dancing tonight. All he wants to do is go home and…" She stopped and blushed, realizing who she is talking to. Constance found the way Imogen felt embarrassed the most adorable sight ever.

Wait, adorable? Did that word really come to her mind? She did not even know she had those four syllables in her vocabulary.

"Anyway, he doesn't want to dance. And it's not like I can go and ask any of the students to dance with me, Davina is already dancing with Amelia so naturally, I came to ask you," the PE teacher explained and shrugged, looking not exactly lady-like. No matter how much make up she put on, no matter how girly she dressed – she was still the same sportswoman as always. Constance smiled at this realization.

"Is that a yes?" Imogen reacted on the witch's mysterious smile. The witch considered the offer once again. She looked around the Great Hall and saw Davina dancing tango with Amelia, looking completely ridiculous and yet no one as laughing at them. The two women seemed to have fun and a daring thought of allowing herself to let go a bit crept into Constance's mind. She looked at Imogen again and then nodded and rolled her eyes for the effect (after all, she couldn't let her colleague know that she'd been wishing to dance with her for ages!).

"Yay!"

"Please refrain from using any three letters long modern expressions of joy in my presence, I am not very keen on such irritating behavior," Constance informed her as she took her hand and led her to the dance floor.

Miss Drill was just about to ask the brunette whether she knew how to tango but the moment they were about to start dancing, the song ended and everyone stayed still, looking awkwardly at their partners, waiting for the next song. Constance let go of Imogen's hand.

Seeing all the couples around she suddenly realized that they could never be one of them. Were Imogen and her friends – like Amelia and Davina were – it would be different but they were not like that. What were they exactly? Surely not only colleagues - for colleagues don't have such fantasies as she had about the non-witch. They were not lovers either - for they never expressed any romantic feelings towards one another. And they certainly were not friends – they did not laugh about the same matters or supported each other in their decisions. They were Constance and Imogen; a witch and a non-witch; traditionalist and a liberalist. Whatever Constance wanted, whatever she desperately craved for, she simply could not have. She could not dance with Imogen because it would not be fair towards the beautiful woman. No matter what Constance's feelings were she could not take advantage of Imogen's friendly offer and dance with her, knowing that it would mean much more for her than the younger woman.

"I am sorry, I can't," she whispered, her heart breaking into million little pieces.

Miss Drill did not say anything. She didn't understand, yet she felt it was not her place to stop the witch from leaving. There was more to the decision than she could see and she knew it. Still, she couldn't stop the hurt from reflecting in her eyes as she saw Miss Hardbroom leave.

They never danced.

AN: Something I wrote the other night when I came from prom (not mine). Half-based on my experience with pretty ladies. I wanted to stick to the characters and how they would act in this one rather than adjusting them to what I would like them to do...and all of you know what I would want them to do! teehee! I apologize for all the grammar mistakes, they are all mine and I am not proud of them. They always hide from ME though! Pfft! Anyway - Enjoy & remember that Amelia Cackles loves cakes and reviews!