The others

Nothing more than a Colleague

A/N Hey people! So turns out I had more energy than I thought I did and was able to finish off this chapter today! I hope you love it x

"Sorry guys, can you just do that again for me." The producer requested as he stole a glance over the cameraman's shoulder. His eyes focused intently onto a small screen playing back the footage they had just gathered. His fingers scratching curiously at the line of stubble covering his chin.

Taking in his furrowed eyebrows, scowling facial structure and overall demeanour, Dianne rolled her eyes subtly. Her patience beginning to wear thin as the broadcast team continued to waste both her and Joes time during a week which had already taken its toll on the pair. To their credit, the two of them had continued to act as normal. Well, as normal as they ever were in the eyes of the Strictly producers. With Joe attempting to crack jokes to the cameramen and to herself, Dianne had nothing but admiration for the man beside her, who's professionalism she had clearly misjudged at the beginning of the competition.

It had been an undoubtedly long week for Joe. With it starting on the Saturday night where he spat out questionably truthful words to the woman he was obliged to spend weeks upon weeks of his time with, to heading on dates with someone else. Only to later have his heart stomped upon by one, and the flame of his love live extinguished by the cruel words of the other. Not to mention the fact that he was tired, aching, struggling to pick up the American Smooth, and for the first time in a while, Joe felt truly alone. Yet here he was... In a studio on a Thursday morning, taking advice and instructions from a man three years younger than him, with more facial hair, who was fresh out of a high class university degree. The woman who he had cheated on his girlfriend with by his side, and by some miracle - a smile on his face as he continued to make those around him smile too.

"Okay, and if you're ready in three... two... one..." Watching the point of the young mans finger across to the two of them, Joe and Dianne faced one another once again. Their ironically romantic dance prompting the two of them to smile, look in one another's eyes and above all else pretend that everything was fine. Pretend that they hadn't slept with one another just over a week ago. Pretend that Joe hadn't confessed an erratic thought which changed the dimensions of their relationship. And to pretend that barely 24 hours before, Dianne hadn't spat on his words and kicked him to the curb of her private life. No... for the next two days they had to act as if they were hopelessly in love with one another. That they couldn't think of anything or anyone else. And that all they wanted to do was hold one another and never let go until the day that they died. The entire idea of which seemed to send both an eruption of that unrelenting bubbly feeling into the pits of their stomachs, and a simultaneously blood curdling, unwelcome shiver down their spines. But nobody, not even each other, could tell that's how they were feeling. As to everyone else they were just dancing. They were just two people arm in arm, who had taken it upon themselves to entertain the room, to create a moment, and to allow people to escape from the hustle and bustle of daily life outside of a quiet training room in central London. It wasn't much of a disguise, but to Joe and Dianne, two people who were yet to set free their emotions in a normal, undisclosed manor, it was something which the two of them were grateful to have with one another.

Dancing had always been Dianne's love. After watching her brother dance with the girls in the pretty dresses at the age of three, Dianne Buswell had never wanted to do anything but be on stage. Sure there had been other loves - such as her undying passion with hair dressing and a very brief foray into the world of music as a socially adaptive teenager - but in reality they were nothing more than for a way to earn the money which enabled her to continue perusing her one and true love. It was her top priority - her joy - her favourite thing in the world - and her one and only forever lasting love. And so, as she stood there in Joe's arms, her body and her feet working in perfect unison with his as they danced across the floor, she couldn't help but smile. She couldn't help but feel free... free from stress and scrutiny, and feel free from the all consuming awkwardness of Joe's unforgiving stare. And before she knew it, she was there in Joe's arms, her forehead pressed against his as he spun her around. Her entire body in his capable palms, and the sensation of brown meeting blue allowing her stomach to erupt in the way which she was still not accustomed to. The music coming to an end, as her chest rose and fell with breathless movements, and within split seconds - once her feet had touched the ground and she continued to look lovingly into Joe's glare - the dance had ended, as had the spell she had unashamedly been placed in.