Time After Time

So say, what are you waiting for?

Kiss her, kiss her.

I'll set my clocks early, cos I know I'm always late.


Sharon tore from the room before Dennis could even think what to say in reply.
He found her in the toilets, chest heaving, staring at her reflection in the mirror, water dripping off her face as she steadied herself against the sink. She flinched as she saw him, propping himself up against one of the cubicles.
"You didn't?"
"No I didn't."
"Why not?"
Sharon tore some towels from the dispenser, drying her face. "Because I did exactly what I said I'd do. I thought about you sat in that soddin' playground, getting wasted and I couldn't."
"Why not? If I'd been thinking about me, I'd have done him."
Write me off, give up on me

Cos darlin', what did you expect?
"Which would make you a raving homosexual."
"Yeah, didn't think about that."
She smiled weakly at his reflection. "How long were you sat there in the end?"
"Long enough."
She turned, just in time to watch him stumble. "God Dennis, look at you, you can barely stand up."
"Don't matter."
"Yes it does." she murmured, reaching out to touch his arm and maybe steady him a bit. But he lurched away, bolting into the cubicle and throwing himself to the floor, gripping the sides of the bowl as he coughed.
"Jesus.... are you... being...?"
"Not.... yet-"
"Well, what have you been drinking?"
"Whiskey."
"And two bottles of vodka? Bloody hell, why aren't you unconscious?"
"Think I m-" Splutter. "-might be in-" Cough. "-in a bit." Gasp.



"You idiot." she sighed, squashing next to him and, teasing the curls in the nape of his neck for a moment, before slipping her hand down his back and rubbing circles to encourage any vomit that was to surface. "Know they tell you not to mix your drinks?"
"Ugh?" Cough.
"This is why."
"Was.... desperate."
"Don't say that."
"S'true."
I'm just a lost cause, a long shot

Don't even take this bet
"Look, are you gonna throw up or not?"
"Not."
"Then get up."
She backed out of the cubicle and back against the sink, curling her fingers round the basin as she watched him drag himself up. It was almost painful to watch, he was such a mess.
"So.... what did you and..."
"Paul."



"Yeah, him. What did you get up to?"
"We talked mostly. And drank."
Dennis looked at her doubtfully. "And you didn't screw him?"
"No! It's possible for me to spend time with a bloke and not wanting to "screw him" y'know Dennis."
"But that's what you went there for wasn't it?"
"Yes, but I've already told you, I couldn't."
"Because of me?"
She nodded slowly, closing her eyes, feeling heat prickle in her cheeks.
"Because of you."
"How close did you get?" he asked, stepping towards her. She tightened her grip on the sink, feeling her heart beginning to pound.
"That doesn't matter."
"Yes it does." And he kicked her legs apart, pressing himself against her and she gasped, closing her eyes and trying to regulate her breathing, it suddenly seem too heavy and painful to expel. "Did you get this close?"
You can make all the moves

You can aim all the spotlights
She nodded, barely aware of her own fingers pulling back the curtain of her hair and revealing an angry purple mark at the base of her neck.
"Oh," he murmured, admiring it. "you did. That's bad."
She could only whimper in reply, biting down on her lip and waiting to see what he would do next.
"Did you beg hard baby?" Another whimper. "No? Oh, that's very bad."
And he lifted her up onto the counter, pulling her dress up from around her as her back hit the tiling under the mirrors extremely hard. But she didn't care, almost screaming as his mouth crashed down against the tender mark, pulling the flesh hard into his mouth, sucking her, biting her, making sure she knew she was his.
"Oh fuck! Dennis please-"
"What?" he asked, pulling back and admiring the furiousness of the mark he had left burnt upon her skin. "Want me to stop?"
"No! Just..." And unable to find the words to describe what the friction in his jeans was doing to her when he was so close - she was going nothing short of crazy - she began tugging at his fly. "Please?"
Get all the sighs and moans just right

I'm just always

Sleeping on your folks' porch again, dreaming

She said, she said, she said

"Why don't you just drop dead?"
"Are you begging me?"
"I'm doing whatever I have to! Just.... please.... now....?" He just gazed at her, humour playing on his lips as he saw the hunger in her beautiful eyes. "Yes, alright, I'm begging you!"
"Are you sure?"
"Aren't you?"
And she scanned his face, just waiting.
"Are you drunk?" he managed finally.
You said you'd keep me honest

But I won't hold you on it.



"I've had about three bottles less than you."



I don't blame you for being you

But you can't blame me for hating it
He chewed his lip thoughtfully. "So we can't blame this on drunken lust then?"
She peppered his shoulder with desperate kisses. "Oh, I don't know; I'm up for that if you are."
So say, what are you waiting for?

Kiss her, kiss her.

I'll set my clocks early, cos I know I'm always late.

It was only half past eleven and already Sharon's feet were killing and her head was pounding. Sighing, she stepped into the caff and ordered a loaded coffee to go, knowing she needed to be back at the club going over the details for the Ball before lunchtime.
"That sounds bad Sharon."
She turned obediently to the calling of her name from behind her, and saw Kate looking back at her, a glossy magazine open in front of her, and a concerned look on her face.
"I can see what the the ton of sugar's for though - you look shattered!"
"Feel it." she answered weakly, flopping heavily into the chair opposite without waiting for an invitation.
"It's not your fella is it? Keeping you up at all hours?"
Sharon barely had the energy to laugh. "Something like that."
"Why does that sound worse somehow?"
"Uh... we've not been having an easy time of it recently Kate."
She raised an eyebrow. "As recent as the day before yesterday recent? You were full of it then."
"I know. But I found out..... seems he slept with someone else a few days before me."
"What, and he didn't tell you that? Ech, what a scumbag."
"Yeah. I know. Though I think.... think we kinda made up-" Sharon felt herself blush and she lowered her eyes to the chequered cloth.
"Please tell me you didn't have sex with him." Kate whispered, leaning in to speak and shaking her head despairingly as Sharon looked back at her.
"Yeah....?"
"Sharon! He slept with someone else right?"
"Yeah...." she said again, unable to stop herself scowling. But that's all sorted-"



~*~



Though maybe it wasn't. Because when Dennis came into the club three quarters of an hour later to sign for the newest delivery, he found Sharon crouched on the stairs, her arms wrapped tightly round her knees.
"Hey you." he whispered, kissing her neck. But she pushed him away.
"Don't."
"Wha- why? What's wrong? Sharon?"
"I've been talking to Kate."
"Kate? Oh shit. Look, me and Kate-"
"Not about you and Kate, you idiot; I couldn't give a toss about that. I've been talking to her about you and me."
"You mentioned me? As in... me?"
The way she glared at him told him his words had come out wrong. But she answered him anyway. "I didn't mention you by name; I'm not that stupid. You're just "the bloke I'm shagging" alright?"
"Fine." he replied, settling himself next to her. "So how'd this conversation go?"
"I told her about Libby."
He winced. "Ah."
"And I told her about what happened here last night and she said...." Tearing her eyes away, Sharon nervously wrung her hands, searching for the right words. "Dennis, when you.... when you slept with her.... when you slept with Libby.... you did use protection, didn't you?"
Dennis stared back at her as uneasily as she looked at him, his mouth hanging open. When he finally allowed himself to register the seriousness in her face, he dared to laugh.
"Oh. My. God. You really did just ask that didn't you?"
"Well.... darlin', I have to know-"
"Don't! Don't you dare call me "darlin'" like you've just.... when you've just - Jesus, Sharon, of course I used protection, what the hell do you take me for?"
"W-W-Well, we never have...." she pointed out difficultly.
"Yeah, well I thought that was because we trusted each other!"
Her laughter mocked him. "Yeah, everything to do with us trusting each other and nothing to do with the fact there's no chance of me getting pregnant you mean! Hell, if she's sterile, then condoms are just one less thing to worry about, aren't they Dennis?"
"You're talking crap."
"Fuck off then if you don't like it!" she spat hotly. "I had to know alright? You coulda caught anything off the filthy little slag and you'd never have thought to tell me while you were getting some!"
Taking in a massive breath of air, Sharon sank heavily back onto the stair, muttering, "She thought I was a right whore."
"Who?"
"Kate. When I told her what we did here last night.... her face.... she was disgusted-"
"Yeah, well she didn't always think that, hypocritical bitch." His shoulders heaving, he went and sat next to Sharon again on the stair. "But she doesn't matter anymore - I don't care what Kate thinks. I care what you think."
She stared at him, her eyes taking in every detail of the face that haunted her every thought. "I think-" She laughed nervously. "I think we have a massive problem."
"Why?" he coaxed softly, tucking her hair behind her ear.
"Because I think I'm fallin' in love with you."

It wasn't long before Sharon began to worry however. The way he had stared at her following that little admission had kept her from concentrating on anything all day. There had been a smile there somewhere, but he hadn't been able to let it claim his lips, his eyes too wide and doubtful to even let her hope. He'd gotten up and promised to see her later that night at the dance class, leaving without another word. She'd felt so stupid. It didn't get any better when she dropped a whole crate of mixers, intending on restocking, and instead having to watch, almost paralyzed as they smashed all over the floor.
She seriously considered not going to the community centre at all, but was growing increasingly desperate to see Dennis, whether or not he was willing to see her. She found herself there at quarter to seven, which felt embarrassingly early even though a lot of people were already there, practising a step or two. Clocking Paul with a new sense of unease, she went and sat on the floor at the far side of the hall, happily concealed by the table there, so she occupied herself with tracing circles on the floor with her finger, or observing the people already around her.
That's when she saw Libby, true, the very picture of teenage beauty. Her skin was perfectly clear and fair, her sleek black hair secured to her head, spilling playfully out as she moved. Sharon's envious eyes travelled down her form and took in her beautifully slender frame - she held herself so well, and suddenly Sharon realised exactly what Dennis had seen in this "twelve year old". Jealousy stirred in the pit of her stomach, and she found herself glaring at the poor girl more often than it was fair. Libby picked up on it quickly, looking uncomfortanly over her shoulder every once in a while and flinching as her eyes met with Sharon's angered own.
Sharon looked up every time the door creaked, admitting someone else to the room, praying each and every time that it would be Dennis. But it felt like an age until it was actually him, shuffling in, his shoulders tensed in that telling way they always were, his eyes fixed to an interesting spot on the floor.
Her gaze flew instinctively to Libby, who was nudging her friend, whispering excitedly behind the screen of her hand, tilting her head in Dennis' direction. Her friend pushed her forward and she stumbled a little, the sound of her heel clicking against the floor as she steadied herself bringing Dennis' eyes up from the floor. He looked panicked as he registered her hopeful look.
He glanced hurriedly around the room, and Sharon rose defiantly from the floor, lifting her chin, and daring him to go with what Libby's gaze was suggesting. She saw a lump slide down his throat as he gulped it back and he rushed towards her, barely managing to keep it to a desperate stride, and suddenly his arms were around her, pulling her as close as she could come. She recognised the sniff she heard, hardly allowing herself to embrace him too, although she could not help but do it, as a threatening sob, as a thick, quivering voice whispered;
"Oh God-"
"What? Sweetheart, what is it?"
He pulled reluctantly back from her, and she saw the tears making tracks down his cheeks.
"Oh...." She raised her thumbs and wiped them gently away.
"Did you mean it.... when you said-?"
She nodded dumbly.
He took her hand, sliding his quaking own over her palm and leading her out. Libby scowled as they walked past, and Sharon would have thought to smile smugly had she not been so mezmerized by the sight of tears pouring from his beautiful eyes.
Pulling her out into the freezing night air, he climbed down to sit against the step, saying nothing until he heard Sharon settle herself behind him and pulling on the curl in the nape of his neck, tilting her head so she could admire those eyes, still sparkling with tears.
"Is this what it feels like?"
"I hope so." she whispered, not thinking to question his meaning. "Why, what's it feel like to you?"



"Big."
"Is that good....?"
He laughed, pushing the tears away with the back of his sleeve. "Course it's good - it's fucking amazing - this is you I'm talking about."
"So.... you're not freaking out then?"
"I was. Never.... actually.... been in.... y'know-"
"Love?" She kissed her way along his neck. "That's alright. I've got the time for you to get used to it."
He placed his hand over hers and smiled. It gave her butterflies, so intense that she couldn't stop herself murmuring
"I do, y'know. I love you so much."
"Don't. I don't deserve it. I'm the "lying cheating bastard" you can't stand the sight of, remember?"
"True. But you're my lying, cheating bastard."
And she giggled, resting her forehead against his, comforted as she listened to him regulate his breathing.
"Alright?"
"Mmmm." he answered dreamily.
"Soooo....." came an inquisitive voice behind them that made Sharon scream in surprise (God, she had to stop that!) and jump back from Dennis. Simon. "....now you've sorted that out... and bloody hell, it took you long enough.... are you two coming in here or what?"
Sharon laughed and then grinned at Dennis, who pulled himself up, straightening his back, silently praying his face wasn't blotchy. "Are you asking?" she questioned.
"Argh! Enough of the sexual tension already! I can't take it anymore! Bollocks to him asking Sharon - I want you two back on that floor as soon as! So.... are - you - dancing?"
Dennis offered her his hand, and Simon didn't even bother to try and suppress his cry of "Oh, hurrah!" jumping up and rushing inside. Sharon's eyes slid dubiously to Dennis, and knew what she read in his bemused face, because she was thinking it too.
Christ, could Simon be any more gay?

They walked into the hall, and their mouths simultaneously fell open at the sight that greeted them.
"Jesus!" Dennis yelped, springing back and rubbing his eyes.
"Do not adjust your optic nerve!" Sharon chuckled, out the corner of her mouth. "It really is that bright in here!"
And she wasn't lying; pink and red heart shaped balloons had swamped the room like an alien invasion, and Jill was still rushing round the edges of the room, lighting candles, and if you had managed to stand back far enough to admire it, you would have seen that was in a heart shape too.
Dennis' face was a picture, he looked terrified, the hand that gripped Sharon's began to quake desperately.
"I dare you to stay."
He smiled, his lips trying to push out words of protest he could not find, so he stared at the floor instead, shaking his head in defeat.
"Right ladies and gents!" Simon cried, clapping his hands to draw the attention of the masses, as Jill straightened up behind him, extinguishing the tiny flame left on the splint. "As you may have guessed, tonight is our last class together, and you've all achieved so much. Some of you have done a bit of back tracking-" Dennis couldn't help but feel that his eyes were searching for himself and Sharon. "-but you've gotten there and Jill & I are very proud of you. So tonight, practise your new moves ready for that dancefloor, breakdance, do the bloody conga, I couldn't care less, just enjoy yourselves!"
And he turned away, running his hand across his face.
"Is he crying?" Sharon asked, craning her neck to see.
"Bender." Dennis muttered, rolling his eyes.
"Oi! He's talented."
"Yeah alright. A talented bender."
Patting Simon on the arm, Jill turned back to them all, laughing nervously. "You'll have to excuse my partner here. This is a massive moment for a dancer - like your kids finally flying the nest. And of course, being helplessly homosexual, he's totally overemotional about it all."
A ripple of warm laughter flew back at her as she wrapped her arms around him. Sharon felt admiration flood through her - she really liked those two.
"Oh, and also, as a gorgeous man as Simon may be - girls, happily a lot of dancers that look this good are actually straight - and as brilliant a dancer as he is - his taste in music is appallingly bad and I want it known that I had absolutely nothing to do with the song selections here, so I apologise for the extreme likelihood of Doris Day and Abba! Do help yourselves to whatever you like-" She waved aimlessly to the several crates of alcohol stacked up against the wall "-we got a temporary licence for tonight so-" But Simon was crying so hard, she didn't bother to finish her sentence. Not that it mattered, everyone was already huddled around it, pulling out bottles like they'd never see another.
Apparently, the idea of watching Ian Beale get off his face and then try and dance to Waterloo didn't appeal to Dennis.
"Please-" Dennis whispered through gritted teeth. "Please get me out of here."
"No chance."
He tried to step back as music filled the room, but with a wicked smile, she hung on tight to his hand, drawing him back. His arms instinctively came around her waist, sighing as he pulled her close and they gently began to move from side to side, hip against hip.
"How do you always do this to me?"
"Skill."