I probably should fore-warn that few people will actually like this. All the N/R's will dislike it because it's a "Kit's infatuated with Nita" fic, and the N/K's will hate it because Kit's miserable the entire time.

I thought about having Kit show up at the dance in my fic, but changed my mind for several reasons. However, after I wrote the 8th, 9th, and 10th chapters like I did, Mark McGuinn's "She Doesn't Dance" came on the radio, and I thought it was incredibly fitting and started wondering "What if he had followed her....?" This was just so perfect... Well, several weeks later, I finally got the words and wrote this little bit. Hope you enjoy it, and review anyway!

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She was in the middle of an empty dance floor,

Wrapped up in a tall dark stranger's arms.

She didn't see me slipping through the shadows,

And sit down at the end of the bar.

Kit cursed himself. He never should have followed her. He almost wished she hadn't told him she was going— once he knew, there was an element of worry, and the undeniable urge to follow. He had considered following her mentally, through what he and Nita called "illegal brain tapping", but now that he was watching Nita and her date, he was glad he didn't. Kit really had no desire to overhear Nita's thoughts about the guy that had her engulfed in his arms with the half-melted look on her face. Kit didn't think he could handle knowing— just seeing this repugnant sight was almost too much.

She was kissing him all over,

Where she never kissed me.

I knew it was her in a heartbeat,

But I knew it couldn't be.

She doesn't dance.

She hates dark smoky places.

She doesn't own any fancy high heel shoes, or short sexy dresses.

Her hair would be up, the way that I love,

No, never that down and crazy.

Believe me, I know my baby.... and she doesn't dance.

As Kit watched Ronan's hand slip a little lower than it should have and Nita's lips go up to meet Ronan's, he wondered what had happened to Nita. She was wearing less clothes the the cheerleaders at school. Was this really the same girl who asked, "Could their skirts get any shorter, and still cover anything?" at pep assemblies? That red, one shoulder tank top, the small black skirt. Perhaps it was her Kit had seen at school a few months ago.

And the hair. When Nita had shown up at school this morning with her head covered in tiny braids, Kit nearly had a coronary. Nita never wore her hair in anything more exotic than low ponytail or perhaps back in a clip.

Bartender said, "Can you believe it?

Man, some guys have all the luck.

In a cold old world so full of pain and heartache,

It's good to see somebody so in love."

Kit was still having trouble believing that it was, indeed, Nita out there. With a different guy. Looking adoringly into his face, dancing closer than Kit would have thought possible.

They walked out together,

I just sat there all alone.

I thought, "God, I hate that woman,

But I love the one at home."

She doesn't dance.

She hates dark, smoky places.

She doesn't own in fancy high heel shoes or short sexy dresses.

Her hair would be up, the way that I love,

No, never so down and crazy.

Believe me, I know my baby.... and she doesn't dance.

The Nita in the so-tight-it-might-as-well-be-spray-painted-on outfit grinding against Ronan out on the dance floor was not the Nita Kit knew and loved. Apparently, Nita had an alter-ego that enjoyed places such as this. Kit didn't enjoy it, and he didn't like this Nita. The Nita he'd known since his first month of wizardry would not let herself be groped. She would not wear something that revealing voluntarily. She would not be with Ronan. She would not be here at all. Kit hated her for all of it, all of tonight.

But, that small, devil's advocate of a voice, had to pipe up and point out, "Would you mind so much if it was you Nita was with?"

It like a bad movie that's blasted too long,

It's all about her, but it has to be wrong.

She doesn't dance.

She hates dark, smoky places.

She doesn't own in fancy high heel shoes, short sexy dresses.

Her hair would be up, the way that I love,

No, never so down and crazy.

Believe me, I know my baby.... and she doesn't dance. Believe me, she doesn't dance.

"Yes." Kit argued with himself, as he slowly snuck out of the pub and back home, though he knew it wasn't true.

"The Nita I love and care about is not this crazy party goer. My Nita is calm, in control, serious, but with a sense of humor. She is beautiful in spite of her opinion— or lack there of— of fashion. She's not the next American Eagle bikini model."

The little annoying true voice of reason popped back up, "Stop lying to yourself." Kit sighed, and obeyed.

So Nita looked good in the shirt and skirt. So what.

So her hair was cute. So what.

So she could dance. So what.

So he would have given almost anything to be in Ronan's place. To have Nita wear that for him, to have her dance against him, safe and secure in his arms, to have her look at him with that adoring expression on her face. So what.

So Kit loved her. So what.

He still did not like this new Nita, the unpredicted insta-flapper. But, he discovered something.

You don't have to like someone to love them.

So Kit loved her whether she was the ideal or average teenager.

Despite everything, Kit couldn't quite bring himself to "So what." that.