The next day wasn't much better for Cece. Sure it was Sunday and there was no school, but she couldn't help but worry about what she'd said to Gunther. She made a decision that day. She'd at the very least apologize to him on Monday, even if she wouldn't be begging him to stay in Chicago.

Monday arrived and Cece went to school. Much to her dismay, the Hessenheffers didn't come to school. Cece was still fretting about their absence when she arrived at Shake It Up, Chicago for rehearsals.

"There you are Cece!" Tinka shouted rushing over to her with an expression that Cece could only interpret as relief. "You wouldn't believe how glad I am to see you here."

"Tinka?" Cece stared at this strange new side of Tinka she was seeing. "What's the matter?"

"It's Gunther!" Tinka grabbed both of Cece's hands in hers and looked pleadingly into her eyes. "Cece, you have to understand…."

"It's alright, Tinka," Cece interrupted, pulling her hands free of Tinka's. "I already know he's leaving Chicago. I thought that he said you were okay with it?"

"It's not about that," Tinka glanced behind her.

Cece followed Tinka's gaze and saw Gunther staring in rapt fascination at a small television screen as Gary looked on bewildered.

"Cece," Tinka swallowed deeply. "We have a legend in our country that if lovers are troubled by something that happened in a past life, the paths of their lives are intertwined and…"

"What are you talking about?" Cece didn't understand a word the blonde was saying. Past lives? Lovers?

"Cece, pay attention! You've got to listen to me!" Tinka pleaded.

Just then, Gunther glanced at the two of them. His face lit up with the most radiant delight Cece had ever seen. "Cecelia!" he cried out.

Before she could fully grasp the situation, Gunther was standing in front of Cece, holding her hand in both of his and kissing it gently. "Good morning, Milady. I trust your day has been as beautiful as you are?" he said in a smooth English accent.

Cece stared. This wasn't Gunther or at least not a Gunther she had ever known.


Meanwhile, in a different century, where dance tv shows or any tv show for that matter do not exist, in the country of England, Gunther Hessenheffer was peering down from a balcony in a lavish theater.

He couldn't figure out where he was, what he was dressed in, or why he was here. The thing he most wanted to know was why Cece was dancing a ballet solo on the stage below. Not that he couldn't help but notice that she was an absolutely brilliant ballet dancer, but still, why?

"Prince Gunther? Prince Gunther?" a voice nearby was calling softly.

"What?" Gunther turned to look at an older man behind him. He hadn't moved to the old country yet. That was next Saturday, he was sure of that. This was…this was Monday wasn't it?

"There's another letter from your father," the man bowed deeply to him. "I think he is most anxious to have you at home."

Gunther held up a folded piece of parchment with a red seal closing it. This was beyond Gunther's comprehension. It was like he was stuck in a fantasy movie.

Below him, the performance seemed to be over as the audience was standing up and applauding. The dancers took their curtain call and headed backstage.

"I need to speak with Cece. Now." Gunther scrambled up from his seat.

"Sir," the man grabbed his arm. "Miss Cecelia may still be upset with you after your last announcement."

Gunther grinned at him. This was one thing he understood. "That sounds just like Cece." Maybe they could sort this out together.

A/N: So, here's the second chapter. I know Gunther has an English accent and he isn't English, so before anyone tells me that, I have a reason, and I will explain later in the story. Hope you like the twist!

-CoS