a/n I'm a huge SOA fan and a university student who actually dances in order to cover tuition. The other night a group of bikers came into the bar I work in and this idea just popped into my head and wouldn't leave me alone. All characters you recognize do not belong to me and all characters you don't recognize do belong to me and are completely fictional. I have used my experience as a dancer to create more realistic characters but that is all. This is AU after season 4 because sadly I haven't been able to see season 5 yet and my idea when in another direction. So read, enjoy and please review! songs mentioned are Maybe by the Sick Puppies, You're Going Down (acoustic version) by the Sick Puppies an Smooth Criminal By Alien Ant Far
Maybe it's time to change
And leave it all behind
I've never been one to walk alone
I've always been scared to try
Leah let the music wash over her as she moved her body to the slow rock melody on stage. Wrapping her hands around the smooth metal pole she went through the motions of lifting her body upside down and wrapping her torso around the metal. As she spun in a slow upside down circle she glanced around the bar. Five men of various ages sat along side the stage, dollars in front of them, waiting for her to come take them. Lowering herself to the ground she gracefully rolled off the pole and crawled to the nearest man.
"So what's your poison tonight love?" She asked as she wiped the dollars away from him. She planted a seductive smile on her face as she danced in front of him waiting for his answer.
"Well right now it looks like you are." He leered at her.
"I think I can handle that, can you?" She threw over her shoulder as she moved on to the next customer along the tip rail.
"And how about you love, what's your name?" She asked the next man as she swiped his hat off his head before putting it on her own.
"Walter." He replied, fixated on her bare breasts, "Yours doll?"
"Delilah." She responded before flipping his cap back to him in a practiced arch. She continued to dance and visit each tipper on the rail. After her stage set Leah walked over to the bar and plunked herself down in one of the stools kicking her 8in heels off and underneath her.
"Chris!" She called down the bar to the bartender.
"One sec." He yelled back glancing up at her. She nodded and settled in the stool looking around the bar for a bit. Half naked girls littered the small bar, some chatting with other dancers, others with customers. Every now and than a girl would stand up and lead her customer to the back room for a private dance or back to the VIP room.
"Whatcha need?" Chris asked as he got to her.
"Just a juice." She said with a smile. The forty something ex cop crossed the back of the bar where the juice and soda tap sat.
"Here you go." Chris slid a concoction of different juices in front of her. Two straws sticking out of the liquid so her lip stick wouldn't smudge on the glass.
"You're amazing Chris. What would I do with out you?" She asked with a smile, one of her few genuine ones.
"I'm sure you'd get by kid."
"Perhaps, but lets ponder that later. I gotta go take money from idiots fro a bit." Leah slipped back on her shoes and slid off the barstool.
"You go do that Delilah." Chris said as a deep laugh rolled out of his barrel chest.
Plastering a cheerful smile on her face Leah got up and walked over to a group of men sitting at one of the high top tables.
"Come on boys time to blow off a bit of steam." Bobby said as he led the group to the front door of the club.
As they walked into the club they slowly split off, half going to the bar for beers the other half grabbing some of the high top tables clustered near the stage. Right now a worn out woman a decade past her prime twirled in tired circles to some current pop song. The only thing remarkable about her was her poorly done boob job, leaving a jagged scar down her sternum. The Sons barely spared her a glance before going about their boisterous behavior. The guns were going well, the cartel hadn't stirred up any new shit and all allies were still allies or well mostly. It was a night to celebrate, to relax a bit. The one strip joint between Charming and Oakland seemed like the perfect spot to go to for a bit, what with the final touches of the remodel being done to the club house that night. Newly patched Filthy Phil and Ratface stayed behind with the new prospects to finish the job. Jax wanted everything ready and finished now that he was taking the presidents seat.
Leah glanced over from the group she was currently chatting with. A table away were a very large group of loud men, all in leather. Leah sighed less than excited, she hoped for a lazy Tuesday, one where she could make her money and go home. She really didn't want to deal with a bunch of ass holes. Hell she really didn't want to work tonight in the first place. She turned and glanced over again. The back of their leather vests held patches reading Sons of Anarchy. Fuck, she'd heard the other girls talking about them. Local motorcycle club, loud obnoxious but apparently they tipped well if they liked you. Right now she didn't give a right damn if they tipped the kings ransom, she wasn't in the mood to deal with idiots. Though, she had to admit she hadn't heard anything bad about them. According to the other girls while they were at least semi-respectful and could understand the word no.
Turning back to the smaller group she was chatting with she laughed in the right place, touching the arm of the man closest to her. After another five minutes that same man was following her to the couches where they did private dances. Four songs later she was eighty bucks richer. Tucking the twenties in to her bag she glanced at the stage to see Crystal rotating around the pole. No time for a juice break she walked over to the juke box to pick out the music for her next set. Glancing at the clock she figured that if she made another hundred bucks she could go home at midnight.
Define your meaning of war
To me its what we do when we're bored
I feel the heat coming off of the black top
And it makes me want it more.
Because I'm hyped up out of control
If it's a fight I'm ready to go
As she did almost every time she went on stage Leah let the music take over her. The acoustic rock song sunk deep in her bones and helped her body to move. She knew she danced differently than some of the other girls. Hell she was white, skinny and muscled. No matter how hard she tried she just couldn't make her ass jiggle. Instead of trying to be something she couldn't be she instead focused on what she did well, turning her dancing into a mixture of the modern ballet and salsa she knew and the gymnast she used to be. Thankfully years of practice assured she could do her tricks in her 7 inch heels. She couldn't afford a bad hangnail much less a broken ankle with her budget.
As she twirled and rotated her body on the stage she watched the crowd. Mentally placing the customers in to categories. The ones she wanted to try and talk to, the ones she didn't and the regulars. She noticed the group of bikers watching her from the tables. She ignored them for the most part. Right now she was dancing for herself, there was no one at the tip rail and no one looking her way. She just danced every now and then, a way to relieve the stress of the job. She sang the lyrics of the Sick Puppies song to herself as she danced.
As her slow song finished she heard a slow clap from the bikers table. Indulging them she took a little bow toward them while waiting for her second song to start up.
"You seemed a little too dressed right now." One of them called out, a handsome man with short blonde hair and a bit of stubble.
Leah glanced around the empty tip rail, then down at herself. She still wore her red cocktail dress she preferred to work in. She looked once again at the empty tip rail before looking back at the men.
"No reason to be any less dressed. Free show's don't pay my rent boys." She tossed the comment over her shoulder as the fast beat of Alian Ant Farm's Smooth Criminal started to play.
Once again she threw herself into the music. Some nights it was the only way she could get through a stage set or a lap dance, if she focused on the music alone and ignored the stares of the men at the tip rail or the feel of rough jeans beneath her thighs. She didn't mind her job- even liked it half the time, but some nights (or customers) made her hate it a bit. Gripping the pole tightly she started to climb the fifteen feet to the top. Setting herself in to a simple sit she teasingly waved over at the bikers who all were watching her now. With a self assured smirks three of them including the blonde stood up and moved to the tip rail each setting a couple bucks in front of them. Leah smiled at them satisfied her slight teasing worked. Locking her legs tighter she let go with her hands to hang upside down. She made quick work of slipping out of her cocktail dress and tossing it to the side before straightening herself up. Expertly she slid down the pole to fall into the splits on the wood stage floor. Not waiting for the reactions of the watching men she moved right into the music again. The stage set felt good. The three bikers at the tip rail each put enough up to keep her coming back to them and the music played just fast enough for her to work up a thin sheen of sweat.
After the final notes of her last song Leah bent down to retrieve her bra, purse and dress. Gathering the bills placed on stage she shoved them into her bag. Soon (hopefully) she'd have to go into the bathroom to organize them, she wouldn't though until that was the only way more would fit. Carefully walking down the stage stairs she sat at the couch placed there to re-dress.
After standing up and adjusting her dress she did her continuous observation of the bar. Who was there, who was spending money, who seemed to need her particular poison that night. Fuck what society said about dancing, it wasn't just getting her ass on stage and shaking it, a lot of it involved reading people and gaining understanding of them. Or at least enough of an understanding to find out what they wanted and if she could be that.
Might as well try. She thought to herself as she approached the bikers, all the other customers had dancers glued to their sides. Her bills didn't give a damn how she felt, they needed to be paid.
"And how are you gentlemen doing tonight?" she said as she slid up to the table gracefully in her heels.
The scruffy blonde who called out early gave her a long slow perusal before answering, "We're doing just fine."
Normally Leah would at the very least smile and puff her breasts out at least a bit at his obvious appreciation but tonight she just wasn't in the mood, fuck she was just going through the motions until midnight came around- she'd be cut from the list and than could get the fuck home. She met his gaze square on; telling him from the start her bullshit tolerance was minimal tonight. To soften the blow she tacked on a flirty smirk.
"Well isn't that lovely." She gave him a smirk before turning to the other men with him.
"And you boys?" She asked turning to the rest of the group. She quickly gave each of them a subtle glance remembering what they looked like. To the right of the blonde man sat a giant with long hair and a beard to match. Going around the table a bigger man with long, curly hair sat next to a Latino kid with a Mohawk, lightning bolts tattooed on his head. Mohawk boy sat next to attractive man with twin scars going up each side of his jaw, to the side of Scarface Jr. sat a wiry haired man with wild eyes and the final man sat bald, tattooed and silent. Seven men in total, Leah figured out that her odds couldn't be too horrible right now at making an extra hundred or so before calling it an early night.
"How are all of you gentlemen doing? Out for any special occasion?" She asked, smile still plastered to her face.
"Nothing too special." The mohawked man supplied. His face seemed more open and friendly than the rest.
Leah smiled a real smile back at him. "What's your name love?" She asked.
"Juice." He replied.
"So many dirty jokes, so little time…" She deadpanned quickly. "And the rest of you, what are your names- if a girl may be so bold." She quickly slid in to the script she went through almost every night. Smile here, eye bat there, flip hair now and laugh than- glance sneakily at the clock.
"Chibs." The scarred man said in a Scottish baritone.
"Tig." Tossed out the wire haired man.
"Opie." Said the bearded giant.
"Bobby." The plumper man said.
"Jax." Said the handsome smirk.
"Happy." The tattooed bald man rasped out.
Leah looked at the man who introduced himself as Happy. "So much irony right there it isn't even funny." She said looking at him.
Happy was intrigued. Not many bitches would say something so blunt to him. Hell most bitches at the club house didn't talk to him period unless it was wrapping their lips around his dick. This bitch here wasn't even pushing up on them yet, sure she just came over but she wasn't simpering or flattering, she was making god damn conversation. Of course it'd been years since he talked to anyone but brothers, porn pussy or crow eaters. Sure Luanne had girls that didn't do anything but go to work and leave after but most were up for a good friday night party if it involved a little extra cash.
"What's yours?" He rasped out.
"Delilah." She said with that same damn smile, just a bit to bright to be one hundred percent real. That bothered him for some reason.
"That your real name?" He probed.
"Is Happy yours?" She asked without a pausing a beat.
"It's the one I go by."
"Well, Happy, inside these walls Delilah is what I go by. But if it makes you happy you can call me what ever you want- so long as I get paid while you do so." She said giving him a half smirk that he could respect. Bitch stood her ground.
"And what do you get paid to do Doll?" Tig chimed in, enjoying the show.
"Aside from admiring your endless charm? I just happen to give the best lap dance you've ever had." She turned to Tig with just a hint of playful challenge in her voice.
"If I wanted more?" He pressed. The rest of the brothers just stood amused as they watched the tiny little thing of a dancer face off with their admittedly kinkiest/most perverted member.
"Try Craigslist?" Delilah said with just a bit too much innocence in her voice to be believed. After a beat the rest of the brothers burst out laughing as Tig just stared at the girl. Even Happy managed to crack a smile while Jax full out guffawed.
The girl looked around satisfied and gave the room a quick sweep when a quick grimace flashed across her face before that damn fake smile was plastered back into place. Happy's gaze followed hers and he saw some fat fuck across the bar waving to her.
"Well gentlemen as tantalizing as this conversation is I'm afraid my attention is being demanded. I'll swing back over in a bit." She paused a bit before turning to walk over to the fat fucker at the bar.
Leah really didn't want to talk to Jimmy. But he was a regular and a for sure for the one hundred she wanted to make. You really can't say no to that kind of money. And he really wasn't that bad, he just had the annoying habit of asking her out and trying to pinch her ass. After the usual small talk she grabbed his hand to lead him back to the private dance area. As she passed the bikers table she couldn't help but catching Tig's eye and giving him a slow wink. His surprised face followed by his laugh definitely made it worth it. Once she settled Jimmy on the couch and herself on his lap she began to think of Jonny Depp and let herself move to the music.
The usual five songs later and Delilah was able to put her dress on again and she'd be damned if she didn't need a juice. She flagged down Chris for another one.
"So any luck?" Chris asked as he slid her glass to her.
"Three dinner proposals. Four ass pinches. One of these days I'm going to tug that beard of his right off you know." She shook her head a Chris.
"Or you could just have him tossed out for touching you. It is against the rules and all." Chris reminded her.
"Nah, he's good for a minimum one hundred to two hundred bucks a week. You don't just kiss that money good bye. As long as he doesn't push it I'll smile and think of England." She smiled at Chris. She liked the ex cop, he was a solid guy who watched out for the girls. The two sat and chatted for a bit before the bartender was called away with another customer.
Leah glanced at the clock, 11:30, one more stage set and the bouncer would cut her from the list if she asked if she ducked outside for the next twenty minutes no one would have time to approach her for another lap dance. Due to the fact her cocktail dress covered everything she didn't have to bother to slip on the robe most of the girls had to wear outside.
Stepping out on to the entrance stoop she took a moment to just close her eyes and breath in the peace and quite. Opening them she saw two of the bikers from earlier.
"Jax and Opie, right?" She asked.
"Good memory." Said Jax.
"Part of my job. Any chance you could bum a stripper a smoke?"
Jax fished out a cigarette from his pack and passed it to her. She held it up expectantly and waited for him to light it. Smiling he took a moment to fish out a lighter and held it up to her.
"Thanks."
"So it looks like you know how to handle yourself." Jax said, a bit curious.
"Part of my job again love. I don't deal well with being pushed around. Call it a character flaw." She quirked her mouth into her usual half smirk.
"Ever do private parties?" The prince asked.
"Depends." She said evenly.
"On what?" spoke up Opie.
"How far in advanced I'm asked, what's expected, the occasion, and who's all there." She said.
"Be bout a few days in advance. Nothing more than dancing on a stage. A few local MC's, planning a charity event." Jax couldn't help but smirk at the last bit. He needed to plan a sit down between black, Mexican and Sons an outsider made it less likely blood would be spilt and might relax the extra muscle to see something pretty dancing.
"Charity run my ass." Leah snorted, "Also not my business what side of the law your on, the law and I don't always see eye to eye either."
"Thought you only danced." Opie said.
"I don't shit where I eat or shoot up still leaves a lot of grey area for the law and myself. I suspect you know that grey area?" She smiled up innocently at the huge giant.
"How much do you charge?" Jax asked stearing the conversation back to where he wanted it.
"How long you thinking?" Leah shot back.
"Three hours, possibly more if you wanted to stay for the party, it'd be a Friday night."
Leah did a few quick calculations, she was usually cautious about doing private parties but tuition was due soon and she could use the cushion of extra chash.
"Six hundred for the whole three hours, plus tips while I dance. I bring my own bouncer, armed and she gets one hundred. I wont dance at the after party but for another two hundred my bouncer and I will stay and bar tend the whole night." She shot out her offer expecting them to bargain a bit.
"Done. Gotta number I can reach you at?" Jax asked.
"Yep." Leah pulled out the pre-paid phone she kept for work and looked up at the bike expectantly. They did the whole contact exchange before Leah went in to do her last set and go home.
Opie looked at his president expectantly.
"Think it might help to diffuse the tension when we sit down with Damon Pope. Might help ward off some unwanted blood shed."
Opie shrugged thinking that it wasn't the worst plan he'd ever heard. Either way they'd need all the help they could get. Both men snuffed out their cigarettes and headed back into the club to enjoy the rest of the night.