The Shanachie Theater was quiet, dark, filled with the ghosts of characters played and applause given. Even the cleaners had finished their work for the night, leaving the shell of the building in darkness. Only in the attic, where space had been converted to rehearsal rooms fit for stars to learn how to shine, was there life and light and music, flowing from the walls to accompany the delicate strength of pas de deux in play. They had only been supposed to stay for a couple of hours, to discuss the next ballet and begin the task of casting it, yet somehow Tony and Anya had fallen into step with one another, neither dressed for the moment or particularly ready for it. But whenever they were alone, and there was music, they always seemed to dance.
It wasn't the pas de deux from Romeo and Juliet that they were famous for, but one that was just as elegant, just as stirring, just as lovely. This dance wasn't for any performance or rehearsal, but for the sheer joy of dancing, one with the other. Anya's Aurora was graceful and lovely as she danced her way in and out of her Prince's arms, both of them knowing the dance by heart, having danced it numerous times together in the past. It was almost as though they were one as they moved together in the dance, knowing precisely where the one ended and the other began, flowing as softly and smoothly as water. Though there was no audience, it was mesmerizing to watch as they moved with the music, bringing the story to life through the dance, almost as if they were Aurora and her Prince.
Though there was nothing ambitious in the steps, nothing that might cause harm to muscles unwarmed, to bare feet unprotected against the hardwood floor, there was beauty in the sheer simplicity of their interpretation. They didn't need tricks and lifts to draw the eye, and truly, neither really cared. It was an honor and a privilege to dance together, and Anya never passed up that opportunity. And here, alone, where no one saw and no one knew, Aurora kissed her Prince as she passed into his arms, sharing a smile that was only his.
The kiss they shared as part of the dance was no staged kiss, the warmth that passed between them genuine and from the heart. It was part of the magic they had always shared whether it be the ballet or the dance that took place in private between lovers. There was a spark between them that could not be denied, apparent from the very first time they'd been partnered - a spark which had been quickly rekindled as if they had never been apart. The music crested and flowed around them, they moved together as one, made for each other, made for the dance, until the music finally faded, and the Prince held his Princess in his arms, both of them as weary as if they'd just made love, and just as enraptured.That was what it was like when they danced together - it was as if they made love to each other there on the stage in front of an adoring crowd of onlookers.
Swaying in his arms as the music faded and the click of the CD player announced it had turned itself off, Anya smiled, her lips parting to open that smile further for Tony's eyes. It was the work of barely a moment to slip from the stylized pose of their ending into a truer embrace, brushing her lips against the side of his neck as her arms wound about him. "Lyubimaya."
"Ti amo," he replied to her Russian in his mother's Italian, smiling at the brush of lips against his neck. That was not a choreographed part of the dance, but he enjoyed it just the same. His arms held her close, circled about her waist, close enough to feel her heart thumping in her chest and taste her breath. "I miss dancing with my ballerina," he admitted with a small, serious frown. As much as he enjoyed directing, he would always be a dancer first and foremost and she would always be his favorite partner.
Her smile became a soft laugh as she lifted her head, shaking it just a little in denial of the prima title he'd always afforded her, even when she had not had even a scrap of experience to make a start toward it. "I am not a ballerina," she reminded him fondly. "I am your danseuse principale, and I am happy to be so." Her fingers tenderly stroked down the line of his cheek. "But I do miss dancing with you, lyubimaya. The music never feels the same without you."
He shrugged, smiling fondly. She was splitting hairs. As far as he was concerned she was still his ballerina, no matter what her official title was within the company. "They are asking for us in the press. I heard from New York. They miss us, Anya."
She paused a moment, considering this news. They couldn't return to New York, not yet anyway. Until Elena's problem was resolved one way or the other, it was simply too dangerous, even with Anya's own father making noises about some kind of retribution for the damage done to his daughter. "Then perhaps we should invite the press here," she suggested softly. "For Ondine, maybe?"
He knew they couldn't go back to New York, not now anyway. It was too dangerous, especially after what had happened to her there, not until the mess with Elena was cleaned up, if it was ever cleaned up. Tony was starting to have his doubts. "Ondine..." Tony echoed, with a chuckle. "And here I was going to cast you as Beatrice." He brushed an affectionate kiss against her cheek before breaking away to fetch them both a towel.
"Will you not dance Palemon, then?" she asked curiously, lowering to her heels to follow him, bending gracefully to fetch a bottle of water from her bag. "You have reduced me to tears with him before, you know. And that was before I was ever allowed to dance with you."
"You have already killed me with a kiss," he teased back, though she didn't seem to be teasing. "No, I won't dance Palemon without you. I was going to dance Tirrenio, though it might be good for us to dance together now and then. It would be good publicity, and I miss it." He threw a towel around his neck and handed one to her.
She pouted laughingly at his tease, catching the towel he handed her to wipe her face and neck dry. It was just as well she always carried a change of clothes; she'd fallen easily back into old habits with Tony, and those old habits always seemed to include dancing in clothes that had not been made for that exertion. "I did not want to ....to push myself forward," she admitted a little reluctantly, "but I should dearly like to dance Ondine. I have always been passed over when I have auditioned for her, but I would not like to take the role from someone more deserving of it. Xenia or Lauren, they may both be far better suited than I."
"Nonsense. There is enough room in the company to share the lead, and I would love to dance with you again. I will give one of them Beatrice, and the other can have Cinderella in the fall." He had decided and as director, that was, as they say, that. He smiled over at her as he wiped the sweat from his face and neck. "Unless you'd rather dance with Jamie. You might give him a heart attack. I think the poor boy is crushing on you."
It wasn't the pas de deux from Romeo and Juliet that they were famous for, but one that was just as elegant, just as stirring, just as lovely. This dance wasn't for any performance or rehearsal, but for the sheer joy of dancing, one with the other. Anya's Aurora was graceful and lovely as she danced her way in and out of her Prince's arms, both of them knowing the dance by heart, having danced it numerous times together in the past. It was almost as though they were one as they moved together in the dance, knowing precisely where the one ended and the other began, flowing as softly and smoothly as water. Though there was no audience, it was mesmerizing to watch as they moved with the music, bringing the story to life through the dance, almost as if they were Aurora and her Prince.
Though there was nothing ambitious in the steps, nothing that might cause harm to muscles unwarmed, to bare feet unprotected against the hardwood floor, there was beauty in the sheer simplicity of their interpretation. They didn't need tricks and lifts to draw the eye, and truly, neither really cared. It was an honor and a privilege to dance together, and Anya never passed up that opportunity. And here, alone, where no one saw and no one knew, Aurora kissed her Prince as she passed into his arms, sharing a smile that was only his.
The kiss they shared as part of the dance was no staged kiss, the warmth that passed between them genuine and from the heart. It was part of the magic they had always shared whether it be the ballet or the dance that took place in private between lovers. There was a spark between them that could not be denied, apparent from the very first time they'd been partnered - a spark which had been quickly rekindled as if they had never been apart. The music crested and flowed around them, they moved together as one, made for each other, made for the dance, until the music finally faded, and the Prince held his Princess in his arms, both of them as weary as if they'd just made love, and just as enraptured.That was what it was like when they danced together - it was as if they made love to each other there on the stage in front of an adoring crowd of onlookers.
Swaying in his arms as the music faded and the click of the CD player announced it had turned itself off, Anya smiled, her lips parting to open that smile further for Tony's eyes. It was the work of barely a moment to slip from the stylized pose of their ending into a truer embrace, brushing her lips against the side of his neck as her arms wound about him. "Lyubimaya."
"Ti amo," he replied to her Russian in his mother's Italian, smiling at the brush of lips against his neck. That was not a choreographed part of the dance, but he enjoyed it just the same. His arms held her close, circled about her waist, close enough to feel her heart thumping in her chest and taste her breath. "I miss dancing with my ballerina," he admitted with a small, serious frown. As much as he enjoyed directing, he would always be a dancer first and foremost and she would always be his favorite partner.
Her smile became a soft laugh as she lifted her head, shaking it just a little in denial of the prima title he'd always afforded her, even when she had not had even a scrap of experience to make a start toward it. "I am not a ballerina," she reminded him fondly. "I am your danseuse principale, and I am happy to be so." Her fingers tenderly stroked down the line of his cheek. "But I do miss dancing with you, lyubimaya. The music never feels the same without you."
He shrugged, smiling fondly. She was splitting hairs. As far as he was concerned she was still his ballerina, no matter what her official title was within the company. "They are asking for us in the press. I heard from New York. They miss us, Anya."
She paused a moment, considering this news. They couldn't return to New York, not yet anyway. Until Elena's problem was resolved one way or the other, it was simply too dangerous, even with Anya's own father making noises about some kind of retribution for the damage done to his daughter. "Then perhaps we should invite the press here," she suggested softly. "For Ondine, maybe?"
He knew they couldn't go back to New York, not now anyway. It was too dangerous, especially after what had happened to her there, not until the mess with Elena was cleaned up, if it was ever cleaned up. Tony was starting to have his doubts. "Ondine..." Tony echoed, with a chuckle. "And here I was going to cast you as Beatrice." He brushed an affectionate kiss against her cheek before breaking away to fetch them both a towel.
"Will you not dance Palemon, then?" she asked curiously, lowering to her heels to follow him, bending gracefully to fetch a bottle of water from her bag. "You have reduced me to tears with him before, you know. And that was before I was ever allowed to dance with you."
"You have already killed me with a kiss," he teased back, though she didn't seem to be teasing. "No, I won't dance Palemon without you. I was going to dance Tirrenio, though it might be good for us to dance together now and then. It would be good publicity, and I miss it." He threw a towel around his neck and handed one to her.
She pouted laughingly at his tease, catching the towel he handed her to wipe her face and neck dry. It was just as well she always carried a change of clothes; she'd fallen easily back into old habits with Tony, and those old habits always seemed to include dancing in clothes that had not been made for that exertion. "I did not want to ....to push myself forward," she admitted a little reluctantly, "but I should dearly like to dance Ondine. I have always been passed over when I have auditioned for her, but I would not like to take the role from someone more deserving of it. Xenia or Lauren, they may both be far better suited than I."
"Nonsense. There is enough room in the company to share the lead, and I would love to dance with you again. I will give one of them Beatrice, and the other can have Cinderella in the fall." He had decided and as director, that was, as they say, that. He smiled over at her as he wiped the sweat from his face and neck. "Unless you'd rather dance with Jamie. You might give him a heart attack. I think the poor boy is crushing on you."