It's Prom Night and Prue can't stop smiling.
Grams agreed to spring for her to get her hair and make-up professionally done, and she's wearing a dress that makes her feel beautiful. Piper and Phoebe did plenty of oohing and aahing when she made her way down the stairs at the Manor and the way Andy's eyes lit up when he saw her has got her feeling pretty good too. He's been as attentive as any boyfriend could be, brought flowers for Grams, chocolates for Piper and Phoebe and a wrist corsage for Prue - his fingers had lingered on her wrist when he'd put it on her and she'd been sure that he must have been able to feel her pulse racing.
Maybe Grams knew that too because when she kissed Prue at the door, she whispered a quick, "Be careful," into her ear. Prue had pulled back, surprised but Grams had looked perfectly calm, perfectly serene and only the warning twinkle in her eye told Prue that she hadn't imagined the whole thing.
But she'd let Prue walk out the door, Andy's hand in hers, and Prue knows that's as close to blessing as she's ever going to get.
The prom goes off without a hitch, if you don't count one set of paper decorations falling from the ceiling, the chicken meal being rubbery in the extreme and the punch being spiked several times over. Which Prue doesn't, because she's with her friends and there is fun and laughter and dancing and Andy at her side, looking so handsome in his tux, so happy as he smiles down at her.
The night, Prue thinks, could not get any better.
Except, she realises as a flash of desire runs down her spine, it can.
She knows Andy has a room reserved upstairs because he'd told her so. Just like he'd told her in the very next breath that he wasn't expecting anything, that they didn't have to, that he was perfectly happy to keep waiting, that he'd do whatever she wanted. He'd stumbled over his words and his cheeks had flushed scarlet and Prue had laughed and kissed him but had made no promises she hadn't been sure she'd keep.
But here, now, in his arms as they sway to something slow, she knows.
"Andy?" He looks down at her, brow furrowed. "I'm ready."
He blinks, brow furrowing even more and she would have sworn that that was not possible. "Ready? For what?"
She feels a different sort of smile creep across her face, feels her cheeks darken too. "No," she says, pressing herself a little closer against him. "I'm ready."
She places all her emphasis on the last word and she knows when he figures it out because his eyes widen to an almost cartoonish effect before slamming back to normal in a vain effort to look cool and unaffected.
She laughs, but not unkindly.
He laughs too but then he leans in and kisses her and laughter is far from either of their minds.
Sneaking away proves easier than she might have expected and when they arrive upstairs, when they kiss and touch and explore each other, her perfect night gets even better.
It's Prom Night and, as night turns to morning, her make-up faded, her hairstyle ruined, her dress in a pile on the floor, Prue still can't stop smiling.