Author's Note: There are too few Becoming Jane fanfics, so I hope that by posting mine, I will inspire others to do the same. I have a few more ideas for Becoming Jane fanfics, so stay tuned for more. This is my elaboration on the ballroom scene. The dialogue in most of the piece is directly from the movie, except for the dialogue that I added at the end. It is different from the movie in some places, I did that on purpose. I hope you all enjoy it, please leave a comment! I haven't written a fanfic in awhile, so any constructive criticism and praise is, of course, welcomed! I think this is a one chapter type deal, but who knows. (I'm sorry if this posted twice- I needed to fix the spacing.) Thanks for reading!


"You dance with passion."
"No sensible women would demonstrate passion, if the purpose were to attract a husband."
"As opposed to a lover?"

The words penetrated Jane as if he had shouted them. Their backs were to each other, and she dared not face him. Instead, she raised her eyes to Mr. Wisely, who was in conversation with relatives. He was not the man she had just danced with. He had led her to and off the dance floor, he had been her partner, yes, but her eyes had not been on him. Her eyes had been on Mr. Lefroy. Yes, she danced with passion. And it had been because of him. It had been for him. For Tom Lefroy.

"Pardon me," she said with a curtsey, and left the circle. She did not know where she was going, but Tom's words had moved her. She had to get away from Mr. Wisely, from the society that was imposing such formalities and barriers around her. She was not being sensible. Mr. Wisely's wealth spoke for itself, but her attraction to him was nonexistent. A lover was exactly what she longed for, but propriety would not let her show it.

Her thoughts raced. She had given up hope of seeing Tom at the ball; yet he had come. They had been inches from each other, centimeters. Their bodies had almost touched, his fingers had graced hers. She could still feel the gentle pressure of his hand on her back. It had made her feel alive. The cool night air surrounded her as she quickly stepped outside, down the steps and into the garden. It was dark; no one would see her there.

"What am I to do?" Jane said to herself. Her thoughts were filled now with only one man. Not a man of wealth, or a man of great esteem, but a man of passion. Passion. To be close to him had filled her with a longing she had never felt before. Her heart had stirred and had awakened desire with it.

Jane found that she had wandered into an elegant garden, surrounded by trees, and she faced a pond. She sighed heavily. Her affection for Mr. Lefroy had been evident. Their eyes had scarcely left each others. She knew the room sensed it; she knew Lady Gresham was angered that Jane had so obviously disregarded her nephew. Her mother would be livid. But, she found she didn't care. The cold was biting, yet she was filled with heat.

"You'll catch a cold out here, Miss Austen."

Jane froze. Her eyes closed and a small smile formed on her face.

"Your concern is greatly appreciated Mr. Lefroy, but it was hardly necessary for you to follow me." Immediately, she wished she hadn't spoken such harsh words. More than anything she had hoped that he would come to her. Their eyes met momentarily, and she turned back to the pond.

Tom glanced sideways at her. The very idea that he was alone with her made his heart ache. "I have learned of Mr. Wisely's proposal. My congratulations." he said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. Jane couldn't speak. It broke her heart to have Tom know of her circumstance. How could she tell him that she wanted nothing of Mr. Wisely and his money? She wanted nothing of the life she might be forced to live. She wanted him and only him, and everything in his gaze, in his touch, said that he wanted her as well.

"Is there an alternative," she replied, attempting to fight back the tears that were threatening to spill out, "for an educated young woman of small fortune?"

"How can you have him? Even with his thousands and his houses; how could you, of all people, dispose of yourself without affection?" he questioned. Jane was taken aback by the sudden harshness, the sudden disappointment in his voice. She turned her head to him. They were close. She hadn't noticed how little space remained between them.

"How can I dispose of myself with it?" she quietly replied. "You are leaving tomorrow." Jane raised her brown eyes to his stunningly blue ones. Tom opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a sound, Jane tilted her head upward and pressed her lips to his.

Tom was half stunned that innocent Miss Austen had closed the small gap between them, but he was grateful for it. He raised his right hand to her cheek, caressing her soft skin gently. The other hand found her waist, and he pulled her towards him. Jane pressed herself against him, her kiss escalating. Her hands touched his chest, and she longed to be closer to him, to feel his warm skin on hers, to feel his breath on her neck. Approaching voices forced them apart. Tom grabbed her hand and pulled her into the shadows that the hedges provided. As the voices moved away, Tom leant Jane against the hedge and kissed her again. His arms encompassed her, pulling her closer by her waist, and Jane didn't resist. He let his mouth move away from hers to explore her neck, wanting to taste every inch of her.

"I have no money, no property," he breathed between kisses, his hands wandering over her waist, his grip tightening on her hips. "I am entirely dependent upon that bizarre, old lunatic, on my uncle," His lips moved back to hers, their eyes focused on only each other. "I cannot yet offer marriage. But, you must know what I feel," He raised his hands to her cheeks, "Jane, I am yours. I'm yours heart and soul. Much good that is."

Jane laughed, her heart filling with happiness she had never know, "Let me decide that," she said.

Decorum was forgotten. No more need for society's rules, or its barriers. Unbridled passion answered only to the desire of lovers, not to the society that constrained them. Their noses touched gently as they stopped for air. His breath was warm on her face, and his thumbs gently pressed down on her hips. No one had ever touched her like he was touching her now.

"I think about you every second of the day, Jane, and with every moment I spend away from you, I realize that this world is a cold place without the warmth you fill it with," he said quietly. Jane kissed him gently on the lips.

"Are you real?" Jane whispered, her brown orbs searching for some sort of lie in his eyes. The world was before her, everything she had written about, everything she had dreamt but never believed would happen, was standing before her in the eyes of a young man. "Let me hold you; let me hear you breathing so I know you're real," she pleaded, her voice hardly above a whisper. Tom smiled, that coy smile that made his blue eyes shine.

Even through the semi-darkness, the moon provided enough light for Jane to gaze into Tom's eyes. They were a dazzling shade of blue, a color she had never seen before. There was truth in those eyes, truth, beauty, love and a new freedom. Freedom from the oppression of the society they lived in, freedom from the expectations her family placed upon her. The warmth in his eyes was a safe haven, one that she hoped never to take for granted. They were a pure blue, reflective of the pure love he was emitting. Amazingly, she could see a distinct change in the shade of his eyes as he spoke,

"I am real, Jane. My love for you is the most realistic thing I have ever felt. We will be together, I promise you," he kissed her on her forehead, and his hands moved from her hips to her back, longing to feel the little bit of skin that was exposed.

"We must go back," she whispered, her lips touching his slightly, just enough to feel him. "They will wonder where we are."

"Let them wonder," he replied with a smile, and he took Jane's hands in his. He gently brought each hand to his mouth and let his lips linger on them. With a sly look up at her, he then guided her farther into the shadows of the garden.