A biting wind chilled the late March air. Snow flurries dance through the breeze before peppering the ground. The snow─once a blanket of white covering concrete and grass alike─was almost non-existent on the sidewalks. Dust and dirt penetrated what was left of the once-pristine particles. Spring had come, bringing the flying white powder as a welcoming gift.

Crowds of shoppers, who weeks before had packed the street to buy Valentine gifts or purchase green for St. Patrick's Day, were sparse. Still, a small band prepared for the next year as they combed the leftover wares offered by various shopkeepers. Bargain hunters strolled down Westerville's small downtown, popping in and out of stores to find one last deal.

Two walkers ambled down the street. Dressed in an oversized duffle coat, Kristy had a bulky scarf wrapped around her neck and shoulders, her pink hair covered with a thick blue cap. She walked with her head down in obvious misery.

The young man at her side wore a light jacket with a colorful scarf draped around his neck. The chilly wind had little effect on him as he strode hatless down the street, his dark curling mop of hair bouncing in the wind. His gait was smooth and steady, even on the icy patches, as he gazed at the bopping flurries. A small smile tugged at the corner of his full lips. Victor breathed in the chilly air with something close to pleasure.

He glanced down at his miserable companion. "I told you to let me drop you off."

The scarf muffled her voice. "You lied. You said it was spring."

He grinned. "I warned you about late snow squalls, love."

Kristy gave a very unladylike snort in reply.

They skirted past two shoppers standing in the middle of the sidewalk, chattering away about the past holiday season.

"You wouldn't believe the crowd at the slopes," said a tall woman in a bright red coat. "Even in the chalet, we rented─"

"Well, we stayed in town to ski at Mount Brighton. Thank goodness it wasn't snow from the snow machines─" interrupted her companion.

"Did I tell you about the new ski instructor?" replied Red coat.

Victor and Kristy hurried past, spared from further details.

"How do they talk to each other? They don't listen," muttered Kristy. "That's a failing human trait. You guys don't listen, just talk, talk, talk."

Victor adjusted the dance bags on his shoulders. "Heaven knows the magi are great listeners. One big happy family, eh?"

Kristy ignored the reply. She shivered again before asking, "How much farther?"

"Almost there, love. Get ready. I want this performance to be your crowning achievement."

She peeped at him through the folds of her scarf. "Performing with you in the spring showcase will be my crowning achievement.... if we ever get real spring weather!"

"I don't want to get short shrift from you if you mess up and I nag. Nagging is my job."

Her eyes narrowed. "Short shrift?"

"Never mind." He walked several steps before opening the street door leading into the dance studio. Victor held it open and bowed. "After you."

They passed the pristine reception area and slid onto one of the comfy sofas in the empty ballroom. "Ally's not at the desk." Kristy gazed around the spacious room. "Where's everybody?"

"The studio opens in a couple of hours. Marta arranged this private session with her and Adam." He had tossed his coat on a nearby chair and was already lacing up his dance shoes.

Kristy removed her outdoor wear before resuming her seat. Her pink ponytail flowed down her back as she slipped off her boots and woolen socks, her toes curling on the low carpet. She pulled her dance shoes out of the bag, then glared at Victor. "What possessed me to get these walking stilts of death?"

Victor took the shoes, a small bit of magic warming the insides. "I'll strap them on for you." He slid a slender foot into each shoe, then expertly wrapped the straps and secured the buckles. "The three-inch heels do help your hip movements and toe leads. There." He stood up, bowed, then offered her his hand. "M'lady?"

She took his hand. "Let's do this."

Marta Trias and her second in command, the petulant Adam Sinclair, stood chatting near the sound system. Their conversation broke off as Kristy and Victor moved onto the floor.

Marta, ever the professional, strode toward the couple, hands out, a pleasant smile on her face. The neat gray bun and top-of-the-line dancewear accented her aristocratic air. She clasped hands with her prized student, then presented a rouged cheek for his kiss.

"Victor, I'm anxious to see what you and Kristy have in store for us," she said, giving the genie a warm smile.

Adam sauntered up beside her, his salt and pepper hair in its usual spiky array. He graced the couple with a sardonic smile. "This should be quite the show. Fancy taking a beginner to silver in less than six months." He slapped a manicured hand against his chest. "No one's that good unless trained by me, darlings."

Marta glared at him in mock anger. "Use your eyes before using your mouth, Adam." She turned to Victor and his scowling partner. "Proceed." The two went to take seats near the sound system as Victor led Kristy to the center of the floor.

It pleased him to see the resolved look on her face. Kristy wouldn't let Adam's boorishness get her down. "You got this." His touch was gentle as he cupped her chin, his thumb sliding over the softness of her cheek. "Showtime. Ready, love?"

Kristy gave him a mischievous grin. "I'll be ready for something else if you keep stroking my cheek like that."

Victor laughed at her saucy reply and took his place next to her, one hand resting on her waist. He nodded toward Marta. "Ready."

He waited for the opening sounds of the Doris Day version of 'Perhaps' to fill the ballroom. Most of Victor's younger clients would have thrown a fit about dancing to such an old song. But Kristy, a fan of old tunes, was thrilled from the first time he played it. Even with the arousing tones of the music, he'd had the hardest time getting Kristy into character. Rumba was a dance of passion, teasing, and flirting. It reiterated the tale of two people in love.

For weeks, Kristy's interpretation resembled the tale of two people at war.

"For the last time, stretch your fingers when you turn my face to yours. Think passion," Victor repeated during a practice session. "Elongated fingers evoke a mood. Balling your fist up looks like you're going to deck me."

"Don't tempt me," came her icy reply.

Next came the facial expressions. The move called for Victor to hold her close as they spun while gazing into each other's eyes. "Kristy, the mood is sensual. Look at me like you want me," he'd said, struggling to keep cool. "Gritting your teeth is not sensual."

"Oh, I want you all right," she countered. "I want to knee you right in the—"

Victor had released her and stepped back. "Break time!"

His woolgathering ended when the first bars of the song filled the ballroom. He slid behind her, placing his hands on her forearms as he whipped Kristy around to face him, his expression teemed with desire. Victor was delighted to see her look mirrored his.

The dance was progressing better than he had imagined. The genie's hip action was perfect. They danced the routine with a closeness and with intimacy. With every spin and gliding step, Kristy's eyes found his, her touch soft and exaggerated. She wrapped her leg around him during a challenging spiral move, her form perfect as he twirled them both, faces inches apart. Victor almost believed they would get through this and earn Marta's much-coveted approval.

Near the end, he spun the crouching girl four times before pulling her up into his arms. Kristy stuck to him like Velcro. She placed her feet down and leaned her body against his as they swayed, tilting her face toward his, their lips close as if they would finally end the teasing and give in to desire. His right hand swept upward, his fingertips slowly grazing up her leg, hip, then her side...

And stopped when Kristy broke into unexpected peals of laughter.

Victor stepped back and groaned, the mood ruined. "Not again!"

But Kristy chortled on, hand slapping her knee, body heaving.

Victor sighed before turning to Marta and Adam, who watched, somewhat disturbed. "She's super ticklish when nervous. I must have run my fingers on her lighter than usual. Unfortunately, she might get—"

Hic! Hic! Kristy gave him an apologetic smile before the next one slipped through her lips. Hic!

"The hiccups next." He groaned as she shuddered with each spasm.

Adam placed a hand to his chest and whistled. "I was hot and bothered during the routine. Now, I'm just bothered."

Marta held back her titter. "I felt the intimacy. The storytelling was exquisite, and the choreography was some of your best." She motioned to Kristy with a graceful twist of her wrist. "Come with me to the office. I have an old Hungarian remedy for hiccups."

"Sorry, Vic," said a sorrowful Kristy. Hic!

"Get rid of the beastly things. We'll have another go later." Victor watched as she and Marta walked across the wood sprung floor, heading for the second-floor office.

Adam turned to Victor as soon as they were alone, a bright smile plastered on his narrow face. "I'll admit it since no one is around. That was fantastic! And, I was hoping for a chance to talk to you alone."

"What gives?" he asked, still disgruntled about not finishing the routine.

"Victor, you're a damn good dancer. You're the best of all our male teachers, next to me." Adam took a moment to preen before continuing. "That's why I've chosen you to dance a number with my newest silver student, Daniel Sanchez. I'm sure you're absolutely flattered and extremely grateful to me."

Victor's eyes widened. It would be his first same-sex dance pairing, something the other teachers had practiced but not him as he worked limited hours. He'd taught males plenty but dancing as partners would be new. 

Adam, although prickly and rude, was a world-class choreographer. Plus, the irascible instructor taught his sister, Rosetta, so Victor did his best to play nice. "Thanks for asking me."

Adam sauntered toward him, hand extended. As they shook, he accepted Victor's thanks with a gracious nod. "Don't mention it. I'll tell Marta you're taking Danny on as a permanent partner."

Victor released Adam's hand. "I've been training Kristy for that purpose."

"Hmm? Oh, I'll pair her with Lorenzo Tate. He finally signed on with us. He's twenty and some change, tall, slender, and I'm positive he's had a nose job, but the wretch lies about it. But he's good."

Victor sighed. "No, I'm sorry."

Adam narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

Victor cringed, remembering Adam's notorious temper. It could go from zero to prison in seconds. "I'm hoping Marta will pair me with Kristy."

"So, Lorenzo isn't good enough for your holier than thou wishlist? Kristy will be fine with him." Adam's tone became moody and aggressive. "Danny is your new partner, end of discussion."

Victor stared at him in disbelief. Why get angry at him for following his dream? "Adam, I'd like to partner with someone I've trained."

"Oh, you're blowing this out of proportion like you do everything!" Adam sputtered, his finger jabbing angrily at the teen. "I've been here five years, and in all my time here, you're always trying to circumvent my authority. You continuously ignore my orders and shamelessly use your relationship as Marta's golden child to get your way!"

"That's not true! You've been here five and a half years, and you've ignored my existence unless you had an inkling to criticize or use me!" snapped Victor. "I give you respect, but you refuse to respect me in turn."

Adam snorted. "Don't make me laugh! You walk around here with your posh British accent, thinking you're better than the rest of us. But in reality, you're just another wannabe dancer who needs to get over himself!"

Adam's words were like sharp jabs stabbing at him, and an angry Victor wanted no more, especially after the humbling experience with the Duo. Still, smashing Adam like a bug would do the world good! But the professor had been right. Just because he could do something with magic did not mean he should.

"I'm done." Victor turned, heading for the reception area.

He'd made it halfway across the floor when a spiteful Adam released his last dig. "Run and whine to Marta, Sir Whines-a-Lot. Hey, I know why your 'daddy' died happy. He got away from the mewling freeloader he was forced to house. If only we could be so lucky."

That was the last straw. Adam had gone too far!

His temper soared to incredible heights. Victor whipped around, teeth bared as his eyes glowed a fiery red. The rage burned hot and heavy at the soul-destroying words.

"Shut your gob!" he screamed, spittle flying from his lips as an aura of hot fury surrounded him. Victor's blazing red eyes pierced Adam's churlish soul. The instructor screamed, then screamed even louder when a large chunk of ceiling detached from above and hurled down toward him.

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