Disclaimer: Subject matter may be too risqué for sensitive readers.

Midnight Tango

Outside the snow was falling in fat, fluffy, flakes, covering the landscape with a lovely pristine blanket of purest white. Inside, Hitch and Isla were cuddled up in the loveseat in front of a roaring fire in the stone fireplace of the house he had inherited from his grandmother. Earlier in the day they had been skating on the frozen pond and enjoyed several runs on a toboggan down the hills. They built a snowman and after a brief snowball fight, they took refuge by the fire where they had roasted hot dogs and apples and made s'mores. The wine flowed freely, and they talked earnestly about their future plans.

It was New Year's Eve and Isla had returned home from England to spend the holidays with her extended family that included the Hitchcocks. She was performing with what would become the Royal Ballet and she and Hitch took turns flying back and forth on alternate months. He had completed several correspondence courses from Cornell and would begin regular classes next week, having only one remaining semester to complete his degree. He had met with Admissions at MIT and planned to begin classes in the summer to begin working on his Master's. He was determined to complete his degree as quickly as possible so he and Isla could begin their life together.

The long distance between them could be very difficult but neither wanted to be the cause of the other not fulfilling their lifelong dreams. Hitch had explored doing his master's at Oxford or Cambridge, but Isla wouldn't hear of it. He had wanted to attend MIT since he was twelve years old, and she insisted he do so. She continued to investigate opportunities to dance in New York or Boston. There were rumors of ballet companies being formed in those cities, but nothing was definite. At 5'9" when not on pointe, it was difficult to be cast in lead roles since she was taller than most male dancers. Still, she had a nice career in England but longed for a day when she could dance in the United States, so she and Mark would be closer.

Their appetites appeased, they were engaged in some gentle necking and simply enjoying the time together.

"I wish we could stay like this forever," she murmured at the end of a lingering kiss.

"Liar," he teased, kissing her neck. "Sooner or later, you'd make me dance with you."

"True," she agreed, "so let's just enjoy it for now, she returned her attention to his earlobe. They continued for a while when Hitch abruptly broke off a passionate kiss.

"We need to stop," he said firmly.

"No, we don't," she answered, kissing him again.

"Yes, we do," he insisted, drawing away, "or I'm going to have to go jump into the snow to cool down. "Come here," he pulled her head to his chest and wrapped his arm around her shoulder so they could talk.

"Mark," she said, "I don't want to stop. I'm ready to go further. I love you and we know we're going to be together. I want to love you fully and completely."

"I want that too, Zu's," he said, using his nickname for her, "but the answer is still no." She pulled away so she could see his face.

"You don't want to make love to me?" she asked.

"Of course I do," he said, "but not like this. I love you and I don't want to spoil things by rushing into something more."

"You sleep with half the women in the armed forces, North Africa and Europe, but you don't desire me?" she asked.

"Of course I desire you," he was hurt by her words. "I want you more than any woman I've ever known but we're going to wait. I'm not proud of my behavior up to now and I am not about to treat you like this would be meaningless. None of those other women mattered. You do. A great deal."

"I know you love me, Mark," she continued, "and I know it wouldn't be meaningless. We could never allow it to be."

"You have waited so long for the right guy and the right time," he began.

"And this is it," she insisted kissing him again.

"No, it's not," he stopped her. "I want our first time to be special, to have real meaning—not just something that happens because we've had too much to drink or get carried away on a wave of hormones." She looked in his eyes and saw how serious he was being.

"You sound like me. I've said similar things to you for years," she grew thoughtful.

"Exactly," he replied, "and I know how much you mean it. If we were to sleep together, I would feel like I was taking advantage of you, and I don't want that between us. I haven't been with a woman since before I was shipped home. I kept thinking about you and how I want to be with you the rest of my life. You only. I don't want anything to mess that up and right now, is not the right time."

"You really mean this, don't you?" she stroked his cheek.

"Very much," he said sincerely. "I know it's got to sound crazy considering my previous proclivities, but what we have is too special to risk at this point. Do you understand?"

"I understand, Tadpole, but I guess you're going to have to channel my energy into another activity," she sighed dramatically.

"Name it," he kissed her nose.

"I think it's time I taught you the tango so we can welcome 1946 in style," she said taking his hand and pulling him up from the loveseat.

"Well, I've been told it takes two, so lead on," he agreed and by the time the church bells rang, and fireworks went off at midnight, they were in the passionate embrace of the fiery dance.