Remember WENN and its characters are copyright Rupert Homes, Howard Meltzer and AMC, not that they deserve it...) The story's mine.

I started writing this story near the beginning of this past season... I kind of borrowed the idea from all the convos about who was doing what, and it came off of my fervent wish to see Jeff & Hilary do a tango. :-) The first paragraph was written way back in June (I think) and the rest was spontanously written in a couple hours today. :-) The story itself takes place somewhere in Nov 41, probably near Thanksgiving. Comments as usual are welcome... really!

Last Tango in Pittsburgh
By Michele Savage

Scott Sherwood sat at the desk in his office at WENN and looked over the schedule Betty had just handed him. It was time again for the annual charity live Thanksgiving show that the WENN troop of actors did for the Pittsburgh Hospital. He groaned when he noted item four. "That's not going to go over well," he muttered to himself.

He looked at his watch. Well, everyone else should have their schedules. He gave it about ten seconds before he caught hell.

His door was thrown open and a very indignant Hilary stormed in. Okay, five seconds.

"A tango?!" She seethed waving the schedule in front of her.

"Hilary, calm down," Scott said, trying to defuse the situation.

"Calm down?" She slammed the paper on the desk. "I am not doing a tango with ... my ex-husband!"

"I thought you two were working things out."

"That's what he'd like to think." She pointed angrily at the offending paper. "This was his idea, wasn't it?"

"No, it wasn't." Scott stood and walked around his desk, "Look, Hilary, I understand why you don't want to do this, but, it's out of my hands. I can't change it."

"Why not?" She snapped.

He picked the memo up off the desk. "This is Mr. Ingram's idea of something to represent Bedside Manor," Scott explained. "Because it's a sponsor's request, I can't change it."

She crossed her arms in a huff, "Well then let Mr. Ingram do a tango with Jeff if he wants one bad enough." She pointed to herself. "I refuse to do this, Scotty. This is the last I'm saying about it!" She grabbed the memo from Scott, turned and stormed back out of his office.

He let out an audible breath and sank onto the edge of his desk. "Oh, great."

Hilary stormed down the hallway toward the front door. Jeff walked past her as he'd just entered the station. As she passed him, she slammed the > memo against his chest. "Don't hold your breath!" She stopped at the front door and turned to look at the confused Jeff. "Better yet, do hold your breath!" She turned and pushed through the front door.

"I love you too!" Jeff yelled at her retreating form. He heard the angry growl as she moved down the hall and the door closed completely behind her. He laughed slightly and looked at Gertie whoherself was holding back laughter.

He shrugged and looked at the paper Hilary had shoved at him, wondering what she was talking about. He smiled when he realized what made her angry. A tango. He chuckled as he walked down the hallway and entered the green room. His mind was already working on a plan to get Hilary to agree to the dance. If he could get her to dance with him--well, he knew where that would lead. Thank you Mr. Ingram!

As the Saturday event rolled around, no amount of talking to Hilary that week had done any good. Scott had elected Betty to give it one more try on that afternoon.

"No!" Hilary said again, tiredly throwing her arms up in frustration. "Why can't any of you accept that answer!"

Betty shut the writer's room door behind her as she handed Hilary the shimmering red-black gown she was to wear that night. "Hilary, please. What is one dance with Jeff going to hurt?"

Hilary tossed the dress over the desk and leaned against it. "What part of n-o can't you spell! N as in Not again in the rest of my lifetime and O as in Over Jeff's dead body. Preferably de-boned!"

"Hilary, it's for charity!"

"Betty, it's for my sanity!"

The slight woman took a deep breath and crossed her arms. Both women regarded each other warily, waiting for the other to continue the argument.

"Betty, if Mr. Ingram wants a tango so bloody much, YOU do it with SCOTT!"

"No!" It was out of her mouth before she could stop it.

Hilary smiled wickedly, "I rest my case." And calmly left the room.

"Swell." Betty slunk into her chair and toyed with the hem of the dress laying across her desk.

The door to her office opened and Jeff peeked in. "Any luck?'

"Sure," she smiled sarcastically, "and Scott Sherwood is a saint."

"Would you do that tango with me, Betty?" Jeff asked with a sheepish grin.

She laughed. "Jeff, the last time I did anything with you, you ended up with a black eye."

He looked crestfallen, "Oh, yeah." Then his eyes lit up, "Yeah! That gives me an idea." He walked into the room. "Is that Hilary's dress?"

"Yes," Betty said with confusion in her voice. She watched as he took it. "What are you up to?"

"Betty, watch the master at work," Jeff smugly replied as he started out of the office.

"Watch the master get another black eye," She mumbled under her breath.

Jeff walked into the green room an hour later, having set his plan in motion. Maple promised she'd help only if it looked as though he'd roped her into something. She didn't want Hilary any angrier with her than usual. He had changed into the tuxedo he'd planned on wearing for that evening's show and carried the dress. Hilary sat on the couch and Maple was at the table, eating a snack.

"Hilary, you don't have to worry about tonight," he told her. "I talked to Scott and he agreed that since we are no longer married, it would be better if I did the tango with the maid." He lay the dress on the table. "So, I'm dancing with Maple."

Both women looked up at him. "What?!"

"The maid?" Maple stood, "Do I look like a maid?" She glanced at Hilary. "Don't you say a word."

Hilary sarcastically smiled. She lay the magazine down that she'd been reading. "Well, apparently any maid will do."

Glaring at Jeff, Maple picked up the dress. "How do I know this dress even fits me? I would like to have had enough warning, so I could have had it fitted." She looked it over. "Gee, it's a pretty dress. This woulda looked really good on you, Hilary."

"It probably would have." She replied with certainty.

"Excuse me, Jeff," Maple said, nodding her head in the direction of the door. He caught her meaning and left the room. "Hey, Hilary, would you do me a favor?"

"What?" She asked.

She walked closer to Hilary and lowered her voice as if she were embarrassed. "I've never really worn a dress this fancy. Could you, you know, try it on for me, so I know what straps go where? You know, in case I need to pin it. I don't want to look dumb."

Hilary started to say no, but the serious look in Maple's eyes made her agree. "All right. Come on." Both women walked to the ladies' room and Maple waited in the small lounge while Hilary changed.

As she put on the black dress, Hilary smiled. It was a beautiful gown. The four delicate straps crossed on the low back, forming a double x shape; the full skirt swung wide. She draped the simple black scarf across her neck, letting the ends hang long down her back.

She walked to the mirror in the lounge to get a good look. "Maple this is--" She froze when it was Jeff's image she saw behind her instead of the woman she'd expected.

"Beautiful," He finished her sentence.

She turned. "What are you doing in here?" Realization dawned. "You tricked me!"

"I heard Maple ask you to try the dress on," he explained. "I just wanted to see you in it."

"Well, you've seen me in it. Now go away."

Rather than turning for the door, Jeff walked toward her. She backed up automatically, but was stopped by the wall. She swallowed, noticing the temperature in the room had just gone up by several degrees. Or was that her? "Jeff, please," she whispered as he drew nearer.

"Please what?" he asked, pulling her into his arms. He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her softly.

As soon as his lips touched hers, Hilary realized what she'd just let happen. She placed both hands on his chest and pushed him to arm's length. "That was a nice try, Singer, but I'm not falling for it again."

He held her hands, keeping her arms against him. Hilary heard a clicking sound as he grabbed her right wrist. Recognizing the sound instantly, she knew she'd been had. She pulled her arm away to find that, yes, he'd just handcuffed them together.

"Jeffrey Singer," she seethed, "of all the low--"

He gave her an innocent look, "Turnabout is fair play, Pumpkin."

"Argghh!" She growled frustratedly, "I am NOT dancing with you!"

"Well, darling, it would look awfully strange. Me doing the tango with two women."

She straightened and retorted sharply, "Well, I don't know about that, dear, you've been doing it half your life!"

"Hilary, what is so bad about doing a simple dance with me?" he questioned. "You are a big girl, can't you handle," he lowered his voice to a passionate whisper, "a very sensual dance with me?"

She clamped her jaw shut, not trusting herself with the answer.

"That's what you're afraid of, isn't it?" He said, "You're afraid of giving in. Afraid you'll get hurt again."

"That's ridiculous!" she snapped.

"Mittens, I never meant for you to get hurt. If you'd just read my letters..."

"Well, that's all in the past, isn't it?" She pulled her defenses back into place and stepped as far away from Jeff as their handcuffed wrists would allow. "I did get hurt. You have no idea what I went through." She tried to keep the emotions out of her voice, but failed. "You may as well have driven a stake right through my heart." Once she opened up, she couldn't stop herself and everything poured out, "It took me years to trust you enough to let you in, and when I finally do..." She drew in a breath. "Jeff, I know what you did was for a good reason; I can recognize that. But the way you did it, the way it turned out, I don't think I can ever fully trust you again."

Jeff took a step closer, but she put her arm out and he kept his distance. "Mittens, please, please believe me when I tell you how truly sorry I am that she did that to you, to us. I never should have trusted her in the first place. But when she knew about Victor, I had to do something to keep him safe. I was stupid to trust that she'd keep her word."

Hilary leaned back against the wall listening to him speak, her actions stretching their handcuffed arms out straight. Jeff walked closer, noticing that she no longer objected.

"Yes, you were stupid to trust that she'd keep her word," Hilary responded. "Jeffrey, you are too trusting. I guess that's part of why I love you; that little idealistic boy that you have locked inside you that would take candy from strangers." She glanced downward to the floor briefly and then back to his face. She stood straight, nearly closing the gap between them, "the part of you that needs . . . me."

"There's a lot of parts of me that need you." He smiled, glad that she did too. "Hilary," he asked hesitantly, "can I please come home?"

She paused before answering, "I don't think I am ready for that yet." Seeing the way his face fell slightly, she lifted her hand to caress his cheek and brushed a kiss across his lips. "Why don't we get through this tango first, and then see, all right?"

He smiled. "Thank you, Hilary."

"Okay, so get these handcuffs off. I'll voluntarily dance with you." She lifted her wrist expectantly.

He hesitated. "Umm..."

"Ummm?" she repeated. "Exactly what do you mean by 'ummm'?

He gave her a sheepish grin, "I don't have a key."

"You don't have a key," she repeated calmly. "That's rich." She raised her voice. "Exactly HOW do you think we are going to dance like this?"

"Like this." Jeff pulled her suddenly against him, extending their handcuffed arms, and wrapping the other arm around her waist. He tangoed them through the door of the ladies room and down the hall into the green room.

The End

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