It was the oddest contraption that Ida Almario had ever seen: two small boats made out of leather, sitting in what looked like two wooden bowls.

"And I'm supposed to step into these?" she wondered aloud as she looked around the still empty studio. The clogs in their brown and red garishness seemed to taunt her as she looked back at them.

Sighing, the girl lifted the hem of the flowing red robe she wore as part of her costume. "I can't believe I was talked into this," she told herself as she hopped up on one foot to try to step into the right shoe. She found herself teetering dangerously as she tried to slide her foot in, and she found herself having to step back to reconsider.

Just then, the studio door swung open. Ida dropped the hem of her skirt. "What brings you here?" she asked the newcomer icily. It was as if all the blood in her body had gone to a standstill. "Which is surprising considering the effect he once had on me..." she mused.

Mark Lorenz uncrossed his arms as he leaned against the doorway. "I'm your partner, remember?" he said.

Ida gave him an exasperated look. "Aren't you supposed to be dressing up?" she blurted out.

"I am already dressed," he pointed out, indicating the black clothes he wore. "You on the other hand..."

Ida felt the heat rushing into her cheeks as she forced herself to look at the situation from his point of view. There was no point in hiding her predicament; in fact she suspected that he had come all the way here already knowing what she was going through. She pointed helplessly at the clogs. "Help me get into these, please."

"Thanks for being polite," Mark said as he sauntered towards her. He took her hands to help her retain her balance as she tried to step into the shoes.  Ida felt a little dizzy at the sudden change in height, and she grabbed onto his shoulders.

"Wait, stand up straight," Mark ordered.

"I have to tie the straps,' Ida said, glancing down towards her feet.

"I've got that covered," he replied. Before she knew what was happening, he was already bending down to fasten the soft leather over her feet. The sudden proximity of his slightly callused hands to her skin sent an odd thrill up her spine.

"Thanks," Ida murmured as Mark stood up again. She shifted her weight slightly and lifted her foot to take a mincing step, then another. At the third step, she nearly tottered over again. "Oh great."

"What do you say I guide you this time?" Mark suggested, catching her arm once again.

"Okay, just to get me used to this," Ida conceded, putting her hands on his shoulders. He stepped backwards, pulling her along as her shoes scraped the linoleum. She found her eyes riveted to the ground,watching her feet as they tried to move in their awkward position. Soon however, the scraping and shuffling stopped and were replaced by the clacking of the clogs against the floor as Ida's steps grew a little longer.

It was only when they had crossed the room that she was able to look up at him. "That was funny," she said, feeling her lips turn up in a grin at last.

Mark nodded as he opened up the door for her. "What's so funny? I was just dancing with you."

"...oh..."