Part 22
Frankie glanced up as Alex and Wil scrambled through the door, grinning at
him sheepishly. "You're late," he said tonelessly.
Alex brushed his hands on his pants awkwardly. "Yeah, sorry boss. There was
this...and then the...well, we slept late...and the shower thing..." He
broke off, blushing faintly.
"Uh-huh." Frankie considered them closely, noting their nervous shuffling
and the way their hands kept brushing together as if they were itching to
hold on tight. He shrugged. "No harm. Just don't let it happen often."
"Right. Thanks, Frankie." Alex directed a relieved smile at his boss, then
turned back to Wil. "So..."
Wil grinned at him, eyes shining with happiness. He pulled Alex's head
toward him and gave him a less-than-chaste kiss. "Meet ya on our first
break, pet."
"Mmm. Ok." Alex snuck another kiss, then made his way over to the bar to
start setting up.
Frankie reached out and tapped Wil's arm as he sauntered by. When the
vampire turned to him with an inquiring look, he asked, "Shower thing?" He
held back a grin as Wil turned a few shades pinker than normal. "Is that a
blush, Wil? I never figured vamps could blush."
Wil turned even redder. "Sod off," he muttered half-heartedly, even as a
rueful grin tugged at his lips.
Frankie shook his head in amusement. "Go on, get to work," he said, jerking
his thumb toward the back room. He snickered quietly as Wil walked away.
-----
"H2O. Umm, and a screwdriver for my friend."
Alex nodded pulled a bottle of vodka off the shelf behind the bar. He had
just started to mix the drinks when something across the room caught his eye.
He frowned when he finally picked out what had drawn his attention. One of
the dancers, Jon by the flash of red hair, was being rather rudely tugged
through the crowd by a bulky -- and rather slimy-looking -- demon. On closer
inspection, Alex could see that Jon's back was tense with anger, and that he
was pulling back against his captor's insistent grip.
Worried now, he scanned the club until he managed to locate Wil. Catching
his boyfriend's eye, he indicated the possible spot of trouble brewing.
Wil looked over, got an idea of what was happening, and nodded sharply at
Alex. He pushed his way through the crowd with an air of authority, quickly
crossing to stand in the path of the behemoth who was manhandling Jon.
Jon yanked his arm again, trying to get free. "Look, man," he said harshly.
"I don't know *what* your deal is, but I am not going *anywhere* with you!
Let me go!"
The demon spun around and growled at him. "Just want a private little party
with the dancer boy. See what kind of...*moves* you got."
"Hey, I'm a dancer. *Dan-cer*. You want a private dance, you talk with the
boss. But that's *all* you get. A *dance*." Jon's face was red with anger
as he continued to struggle.
The demon leered, leaning in close. "I bet I can make you change your mind.
How much will it take?"
His green eyes flashing with suppressed rage, Jon hissed out, "This ain't
that kind of joint, man. Try the Dragon down the street." Again he jerked
his arm back, blanching as the demon's grip tightened, making the bones of
his wrist grind together.
The demon reeled Jon in, wrapping his other arm around him and stroking down
his back and over his ass. "But I want *you*, pretty boy."
Jon flinched, twisting his head to the side as the demon moved in to kiss him.
"Excuse me, is there a problem here...mate?"
Still clutching Jon, the demon whirled around to face a cruelly smirking Wil.
He snarled. "Out of the way, vampire. The boy and I have places to go."
Wil cocked an eyebrow. He looked the demon up and down, sneering. "Don't
look to me like 'the boy' wants to go anyplace with the likes of *you*.
So...I'm thinking you need to cart your slimy ass right on out of here, and
leave the dancer alone."
The demon narrowed its eyes. "Who's gonna make me? You?" He snorted in
disbelief as he looked the comparatively small vampire over. With a roll of
his eyes, he shifted Jon around and, with a slobbering lick to the side of
the dancer's face, once more started for the door.
Wil growled deep in his throat, his eyes flashing golden with fury over being
so casually dismissed. Everyone within a few feet of the vampire drew back
in fear at the palpable aura of violence that he exuded. Without warning, he
pounced, landing on the demon's back. He reached around and clawed at the
demon's eyes
Startled and in pain, the demon finally lost his grip on Jon, who stumbled to
the floor and used his newfound freedom to scuttle backwards. The dancer
watched wide-eyed as Wil viciously attacked the demon.
With almost graceful movements, Wil struck. His actions were practically a
blur as he led the demon in a deadly dance. Each blow he landed coaxed a
delighted laugh from him, and the demon became increasingly frustrated and
confused by his inability to lay a hand on the vampire.
So far, the bloodshed was at a minimum. With the exception of the initial
attack that had torn long gashes in the demon's face, Wil had contented
himself with merely pounding ferociously on the demon every chance he got,
leaving a battlefield of bruises. He knew he had to end it soon, though.
Frankie *really* didn't like fighting inside his club.
In a lightening fast move, Wil twisted around behind the demon, snatched up
one of the heavy hickory chairs, and bashed his opponent across the head.
The demon gasped, blinking stupidly for a moment. Then, his eyes rolled up,
and he toppled over.
Wil glared down at the unconscious demon, then carefully set the chair back
down. He touched the undamaged piece of furniture admiringly. "That's some
pretty strong wood," he commented, impressed.
At that, a soft snicker was heard. In seconds, the snicker had spread
through the onlookers and become a rippling laughter. With a triumphant
grin, Wil motioned for a couple of other bouncers to come and drag the demon
out of the club.
That taken care of, he quickly moved over toward Jon, crouching beside him.
"You ok?"
Jon chuckled. "Better than that guy. Thanks." He pushed himself off the
floor and to his feet, hand cradled gingerly in front of him. He was still
very pale though, and his eyes were bright with pain. Noticing this, Spike
gently led him back to the bar and seated him.
Alex ignored the next drink order, instead hurrying over to Wil and Jon.
"You go, Wil," he said quietly, pride obvious in his tone. Then he looked at
Jon. "Did he hurt you?"
Jon shrugged, holding out his arm. The wrist was visibly swollen, and
already starting to darken with bruises. He breathed in sharply when Wil
reached out to run his fingers lightly along the tender flesh.
"Nothing's broken," Wil said with relief. "Not even sprained, I don't think.
Gonna be damn sore for a bit, though."
Jon groaned, frowning miserably at his injured wrist. "I can't dance like
this," he complained. "I've still got one more set to do tonight. The It's
the last one of the night; the other guys have already pretty much bailed, so
I've got no one to cover for me. Shit, Frankie's gonna be pissed."
"Pissed about what?" Frankie came up beside Alex, who moved out of his way
so he could better see his dancer. The man scowled. "Is that what the fuss
I heard was about?" He gestured at Jon.
Wil nodded. "Some demon, not a regular I don't think, tried to get a little
insistent. I...convinced him he'd have better luck somewhere else."
"Frankie, I didn't do anything to encourage him," Jon said in a wavering
voice. "I just tried to get away. And he did *this*," he wiggled his arm a
bit, wincing, "and now there's no way I can do my last set!"
"Calm down, Jon," Frankie told him. "I know it's not your fault. We get
someone like that every once in a while." He sighed heavily. "Don't know
what I'm gonna do about a replacement for the night, though. Alvin just left
a minute ago, and he was the only other dancer still here."
"Bummer. That's gotta suck." Alex shot Frankie a sympathetic look, then
blinked as his boss stared at him measuringly. His eyes widened. "Oh no.
No. Not happening. No freaking *way*." He started to back away, hands held
up defensively in front of himself.
"Now Alex, you don't want to disappoint me, do you? Why, Jon here has tended
the bar when he's had to; it's only fair you should fill in for him in his
hour of need." Frankie gazed at the bartender levelly, and Alex cringed.
"I don't *want* to!" Alex threw Jon a panicked look. "Jon, you're good to
go, right? You don't need me. Right?" He kept shaking his head. "I can't
dance...I wouldn't know what to do!"
"I think he's right," Jon spoke up. He gave Frankie an apologetic shrug.
"Alex is cute and all, but I don't know if he'd have what it takes to look
good on stage."
Alex nodded frantically. "Yeah! Hey!" He glowered at Jon, not sure if he
was being insulted.
"Now *Wil* on the other hand," Jon continued. "Frankie, did you see him
move? He was like...liquid sex. It was almost beautiful watching him go at
that other guy. I mean, for other than the obvious reason." He treated Wil
to an appraising look. "Oh yeah, I *definitely* think you could do it.
You'd have the crowd begging for more."
Wil stood there, taken aback by this odd turn of events. "You...want me to
dance? On stage?" He glanced over to the platform where the dancers
performed. "In front of everybody?"
"That's the general idea," Frankie said drolly.
"I don't..." Flustered, Wil looked to Alex for help. Alex just shrugged,
leaving the decision up to him. Wil took a deep breath. "Ok," he agreed
softly. "I mean...sure. Why not?"
Frankie beamed. "That's the spirit! Jon, take him back to the dressing
room, find him a costume. There's about 20 minutes before he'll have to go
on. And get some ice on your wrist." Satisfied that catastrophe had been
averted for the evening, Frankie headed back to his office.
Jon clapped his hands excitedly, then almost whimpered as he jarred his
injury. He shook it off, though. "Babe, I am gonna make you look *fine*.
So, how naked do you wanna get on stage?"
"N-naked?" Wil squeaked. He tried to resist as Jon ushered him toward the
dressing room. "Can I change my mind now? Alex!"
Part 23
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