The click-clack of Emma's heels on the hallway floor mimicked the beats of her heart as she made her way to the choir room. All attempts at shaking off the fuzzy, nervous feeling creeping over her skin like a rash failed considerably. Carl's flowers were like a dead weight in her hands, a contradictory gesture of his love for her. She was so tempted to dump them in the nearest trash can, but vetoed the idea. The roses were very pretty, their mixed aromas the only reason why they were going to remain as they were and not potpourri.

Emma contemplated what waited for her inside the choir room.

Would they be alone? Could she trust herself? Emma, dubious about her future with Carl, committed herself to their relationship, unwilling to start anew with everything up in the air.

The frog in Emma jumped from conclusion to conclusion, leaping ahead for no rational reason other than her own over-thinking.

She stopped and placed an open hand on her diaphragm, taking a deep breath to bring her back to the present. There was way too much speculation for what could be an innocent surprise. For all Emma knew, Will had moved on and probably seeing someone else anyway. Prettier. A blond, perhaps. With no OCD issues. Surely he would have mentioned it at lunch. Or, being a new relationship, was keeping it quiet for the time being.

Stop it right now Emma! Frogs were jumping every which way. She had to stop cultivating these thoughts before a headache formed. It wasn't doing her any good.

The students were milling around, hanging off the chairs and casually chatting to one another when Emma entered the room. With trepidation, she placed her flowers on the nearest desk, tucking her hair behind her ears.

Casting her eyes upon Will, she smiled radiantly, watching him as he sat hunched, flicking through sheet music in his lap. Will lifted his head and, sensing he had an audience of one, turned around to confirm the warmth caressing at his back.

"Emma," Will said, casting a flurry of emotions in his own mind. How curious that one word, one name, could make him weaken. He returned her smile kindly, pleased she kept their 'date'. Dropping his collection of sheet music into their folder, his stomach somersaulted as he hurried to the blushing Guidance Counsellor, taking her gently by the arm and leading her to the single seat in the centre of the room.

"Hey guys, look who's here!" Will broadcasted to the room, eager to get the performance underway.

"Happy Birthday Miss Pillsbury!" Clapping and cheering, the New Directions' greeting reverberated around the choir room, startling Emma into sheer delight. Normally fraught with danger, being the centre of attention usually triggered a dash from the room, however this time, Emma savoured the love surrounding her.

Will pointed to the electric guitarist, whose blond mop of hair flopped about shoulders. "Hit it!" The teenager nodded and proceeded to pluck the riff, alongside Finn, who belted the drums in four swift movements to 'Birthday' by The Beatles.

As the instrumental intro began, the Glee Club students clapped and kept time to the beat, stamping their feet and dancing on the spot.

The girls took the first line of the song, alternating with the boys, the catchy tune rushing through their veins, taking over, filling them with the power of music.

They say it's your birthday

It's my birthday too, yeah

They say it's your birthday

We're gonna have a good time

I'm glad it's your birthday

Happy birthday to you

Will watched from the side, seeing the New Directions so enthralled with their routine. The feeling of performing, singing and dancing was like a drug, something unable to be contained and infectious catching. He saw Santana laugh with Mike, Tina and Quinn dancing together and Kurt and Rachel partnering up. Will revelled at how a song could bring everyone together, when normally Glee sessions were spent bickering and arguing.

Ah

Ah

Ah

Come on

Come on

Puck put his hand out to Miss Pillsbury. She put her hand in his, making a mental note to remember to sanitise afterwards and they started to dance. He spun her around, keeping an eye on Mr Schuester's whereabouts and boogied a bit closer. Emma was having a ball, and her childlike exultant smile stretched from cheek to cheek.

Yes we're going to a party party

Yes we're going to a party party

Yes we're going to a party party

A circle formed around Puck and Miss Pillsbury, with the Glee kids shimmying and weaving around one another. Artie cheered from near Mr Schuester and as Puck twisted Emma around for the final time, he let go, spinning her directly into Will's direction. With a push, Artie shoved Will towards Emma, and the two of them collided into each other's arms.

I would like you to dance (Birthday)

Take a cha-cha-cha-chance (Birthday)

I would like you to dance (Birthday)

Dance yeah

Frozen. Voices stretched and slowed. Music faded and the room darkened, erasing the desks, the chairs, the students, until only the two of them remained, a single dimmed spotlight their only companion. Emma attempted to look away, to step back; to run. Yet Will's warm grasp and the longing flecked in his deep green eyes compelled her to stay, to be close to him, to become lost in him. And it frightened her to death.

Breathless, Emma gulped in some much-needed air, certain she had stopped breathing some time ago. Hands, not her own, adhered at the curve above her hips, so at home and natural, they became a part of her, an extension of her body. A delightful buzz curled up Emma's spine, pure happiness adorning her face as she draped her arms around Will's shoulders, his return expression one of elation, taking pleasure that Emma was in his arms once more.

Her eyes of varnished mahogany clamped shut. Could this really be happening? Peeking out from under her long eyelashes, Emma tread carefully, afraid this good feeling, a cosy as sitting in front of the fire in winter, would shatter into nothingness.

"Shall we dance?" Will asked politely, with a gentlemanly dip of his black top hat. Gone were his jeans, vest and business shirt. A white bow tie finished off his tail suit, so dapperly handsome, so old-world romantic.

"What? Where did – oh my gosh!" a stunned Emma blinked twice, awakening to another world.

A black ostrich feather floated through the air. Where did that come from? She plucked it out of the sky, noticing her forearms wrapped in black chiffon, black beads peppering the fabric as it cascaded to the floor.

Magically transformed, no longer wearing her signature blouse and skirt, the guidance counsellor twirled herself around, her body enveloped by a strapless black ball gown, flaring out at the hips, the hem edged with black ostrich feathers. Diamantes, thousands of them, sprayed down her torso in a sparkling V.

Delicate strings of violins filled the air, their bows graciously drawing across the bridge arc, the wondrous melody of the Blue Danube Waltz swelling to life.

"You haven't answered my question," Will noted charmingly, almost teasingly, for he already knew her response. Although written within the sparks igniting between them, he wanted to hear it from her lips, to know that she yearned to be close to him, to rekindle the intimacy. Heavens, Will had never wished for something so hard in his life. He asked again. "Will you dance with me?"

"I'd be delighted to dance with you." Emma's coquettish reply slipped off her tongue effortlessly, eagerly, too eagerly for her liking. Sandpaper lined her throat as Will reacquainted his body with hers, holding on for a reason, clinging to hope.

"Are you ready?" He asked, admiring the way she blushed so easily, her eyelashes fluttering more when she did. Looking absolutely stunning, it became extremely difficult for Will to look elsewhere; his eyes determined to absorb every nuance, every part of her.

"I'm not sure I know the dance… or how to waltz," Emma admitted, forcing her left hand to remain on Will's shoulder and not play with the back of his neck, under his curled hairline. They were close, dreadfully close, breathing the same air, mouths mere inches apart.

"This is your fantasy; of course you know how to waltz. Follow my lead and you'll never go astray," Will imparted his wisdom thoughtfully as he listened to the music, feeling the beat and bowing to his partner as she curtseyed. With outstretched arms, they joined hands and took their first steps.

Oh how they danced! The polished timber floorboards laid the foundation of a flourishing connection between the dancing duo as they swirled and glissaded around the darkened room.

Feet fell into place. Turns met with ease. Not one toe squashed. Emma caught her breath, keeping time by repeating 'one two three, one two three' in her head, then exhaled, immersing herself in the music and the man with the pink rose boutonnière pinned to his lapel.

She felt herself relax in his arms, spellbound by the violins, the clarinet, the cellos and horns of the poignant melody. With her skirt swaying about her ankles from each step, Emma felt just like Ginger Rogers from an old black and white movie, dancing with her eternal partner, Fred Astaire. Will escorted Emma around the dancefloor, lifting her into the air with a gentle elegance, and then returning her safely to the ground. He turned her out and in again, dancing beside her, twirling her out and back in again.

Grinning at his pretty dancing partner, Will reminisced the last time they danced. He had fond memories of that evening in his apartment, slow dancing to Neil Diamond's Hello and falling in love in the candlelight after a home-cooked dinner. For the first time that night, he felt great love.

That same marvellous feeling returned with an aching desire.

Dancing held a certain truth, a trusting relationship. Fluid syncopation of two bodies interacting, joining as one, complementing, mirroring, working together to create magic in movement. Every second captured the essence of love and romance, a sight for the beholder. But they were dancing for themselves. All Will could see was Emma. And at that point, he wanted no one else.

Soon, the song would come to an end. Will wanted the dancing to continue forever, beyond the music. He rubbed his thumb across the curve of Emma's waist, sliding his hand to the arch of her back, pulling her close in their final moments. They crossed arms and joined hands, spinning, spinning, spinning to the climax of the concluding score. Will turned Emma out for the last time and she whirled back into his waiting arms. He dipped her, his chest heaving rapidly as he held her in position. Emma noticed the yearning in his eyes, the unmistakable passion causing a kaleidoscope of butterflies to flutter aimlessly under her skin.

She glanced at his supple lips, wondering if they were as soft to kiss as she remembered. Will tilted his head, closing the heated air between them. Emma shut her eyes, waiting for…

Nothing.

She opened her eyes, confused. Will was gone. No longer supported by the arms of her secret love, her pumps went from under her and she plunged to the ground, her world turning to black.