This was my favorite time of the year when I was a little girl, and for this particular reason. I was a die-hard ballerina from the time I was 7, and the Nutcracker was something I always enjoyed watching. And obviously, as every hopefully dancer, dreamt of one day dancing in it. So things like the prompt today stir something very personal in me.

Hope you all had a Merry Christmas/holiday, and have a happy and safe holiday season :)

Penname: kyla713
Creative Original or Derivative Fiction: Derivative Fiction

Rating/Warning(s): T

Notes:

Disclaimer: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

Prompt: Musical Mastery: Tchaikovsky - The Nutcracker - Dance Of The Sugar Plum Fairy http://www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=HSQ3ZRmkmy4

With one last bobbypin set in place, I smiled into the mirror. This had been one of my biggest dreams since I was a little girl and slid on my first pair of ballet slippers.

I was performing the lead role of Clara in the Christmas day performance of 'The Nutcracker'.

As I heard the opening notes of the Overture begin, I stood and made my way to stage right. My eyes met his and I rolled them as I looked away.

Most of the male dancers I had worked with over the last few years here in New York had been incredible, and contrary to popular belief, not all gay. However, his was a presence I would prefer to ignore, yet was never allowed.

Mr. Cullen. Our instructor. One of the most renowned, talented dancers in the entire company… and he knew it too.

As if having to spend hours upon hours a day in grueling rehearsals with him was not enough, it was even more difficult to ignore him when he insisted on making a spectacle of me during every class.

Always me, only me.

It was far easier to be in front of a crowd of hundreds of faces. Those you could look above their heads and keep a smile on your face, and they were gone in an hour or two.

A room filled with fifty or more of your colleagues you saw on a daily basis… not so much.

"Break a leg, Miss Swan," he said, moving up beside me as I was about to walk out on stage, but never meeting my eyes as I glanced over to him.

Who the hell ever came up with that phrase of good luck for a dancer anyway, is beyond me.

"Thank you, Mr. Cullen," I replied flatly and moved out onto the stage.

It was easy to keep the smile on my face as the melodies that had played in my head since I was little echoed around me. And the smiling, handsome face of my dance partner, Mike, moving around me certainly didn't hinder it. He had always been my first choice for any performance the company did, as he was the only dancer I had ever worked with that always seemed to be in tune with me, my other half in my profession.

With one exception… but that would be a cold day in hell.

The first act couldn't have flowed more smoothly, and as the curtain drew and the lights faded, I quickly made my way backstage to change.

Upon returning, I looked around for Mike, but he was nowhere to be found. Instead, Mr. Cullen stood beside me suddenly, in costume.

"Where's Mike?" I hissed, returning my eyes to the stage just beyond the curtain.

"On his way to the hospital," he replied in a calm voice, and my head spun sharply to stare at him wide-eyed. "He collapsed in the dressing room moments after the last act, and his understudy is home with the flu. Looks like you're stuck with me. The show must go on, after all."

Before I could reply in my shock, his right hand took mine, extending my arm across his chest while his left set on my waist, and the music signaled our return to the stage.

I attempted to focus my attention on the dance, and nothing else. Yet every touch left my skin ablaze, and watching his graceful movements was mesmerizing. We moved together with precision, his strong arms holding and lifting me agilely and effortlessly.

As we neared the end of Act II, I began counting down minutes before I could finally leave the stage. As we were finishing the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy, and nearing the end of the ballet… came the most intense and emotional sequence. Something I could always pull off flawlessly with Mike, but had never attempted with Mr. Cullen.

Our eyes locked as we circled around the stage, and for the first time in the entire act, no other dancer existed on that stage. Not even Eric, who was enacting Drosselmeyer. With every leap and pirouette, we drew closer, and as the final notes began to sound, our sharp movements echoed it.

However, instead of my head resting on his shoulder, his lips came to meet mine. The moment the lights dimmed, I shot up off his knee and hurried off the stage as quickly as my feet would carry me.

"Miss Swan, get back out there," he whispered harshly, following me behind the curtain. "There are still two more dances."

"What the hell was that?" I spat as I spun on him sharply. "That was not part of the choreography, sir."

He said nothing, only advanced on me again and crashed his lips against mine, weaving his fingers into the loose portion of my hair at my neck. My fists pressed against his chest to push him away for a moment, but as his lips caressed mine, I suddenly felt desire course through me and my arms slid around his neck.

I have no idea what changed in that moment, or if anything had truly changed at all. For as long as I live, I I doubt I will ever figure it out.

Yet, I've never danced with another man since, on or offstage.

Not that it makes a whole ton of difference, but the performance I used for visual aid for this particular dance routine was the 1977 performance by Mikhail Baryshnikov and Gelsey Kirkland, which had been my favorite since I was very young.

Merry Christmas everyone!