Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade or any of its characters, merchandise, TV rights, ect… (I think you get the point.)

Summery

Dancing – The vertical expression of a horizontal wish. (Bryan/Queen)

Like all of my work this is just something that happened to float through the empty void inside my head. Like it or hate it please R and R as honest opinions are always welcomed, as are random acts of worship.

Muse: Two parts in two days? What's going on with you Lamb?

Lamb: Not a clue. Anyway you're the muse, all the ideas come form you.

Dedi: Good point. Well this drabble is dedicated to dong-chun-mei, cus we no how much she likes this pairing. So dong-chun-mei this is for you.

Lamb: As always sorry for any bad spelling and if you feel the need to throw things at me please wait until I've hidden behind the sofa kay!?

Muse: On with the fic!

With a taste of poison paradise,
I'm addicted to you,
Don't you know that you're toxic,
And I love what you do,
Don't you know that you're toxic,

Centre Stage

Normally Bryan Kuznetsov wouldn't be seen dead in a sleazy strip club, such as the one he was now in. Under normal circumstances no power in heaven, hell or any place in-between would have gotten him with in a stone's throw of this sort of place.

But there was nothing normal about the feelings that filled him as he watched the lithe figure currently taking centre stage.

Her skin was so pale, almost a ghostly white, and covered a hard lean body with no more curve to it than that of an adolescent boy. Ebony hair was cut short, the longest strands just managing to whisper against her jaw and left visible the bar-code tattooed on the base of her neck. Her face was all hard lines and dramatic angles, with thin, potentially cruel lips.

But all this was dominated by a pair of eyes so dark that they seemed inky black. Strange really, he thought, as he watched the way her hands caressed the cold metal pole around which she danced so provocatively, that of all the things about the exotic dancer, it was her eyes that captivated him most.

Not that he was immune to anything about her, and time after time he had found himself feeling jealous of that cold hard steel. Jealous of an inanimate object, because of the way her body, clad only in scraps of black leather and silver chain, would rub so sensuously against it.

The sound of 'Toxic' by Britney Spears, filled that air, and silver eyes watched entranced as the girl on stage swung and dipped her body in time to the pulsing beat. It was the perfect song to describe her and whatever it was that was going on between them.

Slowly, tantalisingly she leaned forward allowing him a better view of what little cleavage she had, her dark eyes never once leaving his face. Her look was a combination of triumph and disgust, it said that he was hers and that they both knew it. She was a bitch and a whore, and he was completely hooked without any hope of escape.

As soon as the song changed, the dark haired female slipped off stage only to be instantly replaced by yet another dancer. But this one held no interest for Bryan who swiftly vacated his seat and headed out of the door and into the cool of the night. For a few moments he simply stood in the darkness drawing in great lung-fulls of the slightly damp air, hoping that it would soothe the heat in his flesh, though he knew there was little chance it would.

Then slowly he began to walk along the sidewalk until he came to a narrow alleyway, that he knew from experience backed onto the club he had just left. Taking care to avoid puddles and the feted garbage that littered the ground, he made his way deeper into the darkness.

From the gloom a figure appeared and seizing fistfuls of his silver grey hair pulled him down into a harsh, bruising kiss. As he backed her roughly against the hard cold stone wall Queen smiled, knowing that pole dance she had just performed for a packed club, would be nothing to the one she would do in this back alley for an audience of one.

Muse: At times Lamb, I wonder about your way with words.

Lamb: You mean how I can twist them?

Dedi: Twisted is not the word. We hope you liked it dong-chun-mei.

Please R and R I'd love to know what you thought.

Big luv see ya

Lamanth