A/N: WOW! Over 600 views, 9 favorites and 20 followers! I'm flattered, thank you all! I'm glad you're enjoying the story! *is very excited, does a little happy-dance* I'm really, really sorry I felt the need to cut this chapter short. I'll post the 2nd half when it's finished, I just had to get this up! So it's in two parts. Sorry guys! And though it is split, it's still longer than my previous chapters. I hope you enjoy it regardless!

I own nothing! Except everything…but the names and borrowed visages.

Balance

Chapter 4: Nights in white Satin pt1

Mr. Blake re-emerged several minutes later and sat with Daryl at the empty table he'd chosen. Across from them, the curtain drew aside again and a man in a light grey suit emerged, straightening his jacket. He scanned the room and walked toward them. "My apologies," Blake said to Daryl, "There is yet more business that needs attending. You're welcome to linger if you wish, or head to your room. Which reminds me," he opened his jacket and pulled a key out of a hidden pocket, holding it out to him. "This is yours, room 208 at the Hilton just eight blocks south."

Daryl took them with thanks. "I'll be arranging your apartment tomorrow, so you can stay there until everything's been cleared." Grey Suit had reached them but Blake waved him away, continuing quietly, "Stick around, if you wish, but we'll continue your 'orientation' before we open tomorrow. It'll be easier without all of the distractions. Pleasure." Dismissed, Blake took his leave, jovially greeting the Suit and taking him by the elbow to the corridor.

Daryl watched as the blonde emerged, looking more relaxed than when he'd first seen her. When she realized the two men were in proximity and headed for her, she quickly stepped out and pressed her back to the wall to avoid them, keeping her eyes on the floor. Blake paused, giving her a significant look and tilting his head slightly toward the other man at his side. She pursed her lips and her chin moved laterally, giving half a shake. Blake responded with a small smile and arched eyebrow but nodded, satisfied. Bewildered, Daryl just stood beside the table, watching her walk slowly toward the stage and what he could only assume was the entrance to the ladies dressing rooms.

"I need a drink," Beth announced to the room once she entered. The other girls rolled their eyes or chuckled at her quiet proclamation.

"You always need a drink," said a young sable-haired woman in a pink and black tight getup.

"Does not, Jolene," said a blonde in a corner.

Beth rolled her eyes and listened to them bicker while she shrugged and stood in front her station, grabbing a small duffel bag and pulling out her street clothes. She pulled on the jeans without removing her robe and turned her back to the room while she shifted out of it and pulled on her bra and a black shirt. The jeans hugged her curves but the shirt didn't, loose in the bodice and tight in the shoulders and arms. It gave the getup a baby-doll look if she wore her hair wrong but she didn't, opting to pull her hair back in a low tail.

"Anyone want to join me out tonight?" she asked casually, "I'm calling it quits early." There was a chorus of agreement and a few dissenters. Jolene and most of the others opted to stay behind, Abigail; the corner-blonde said she'd meet up with her after she was done for the night.

She knew she shouldn't. The responsible thing, financially, would have been to stay and work for as much tip money as she could fit into her clothes. Given the conversation she'd just had with her boss, she just didn't care.

The music thrummed through her body as she swayed and tossed herself in time to its beat. She smiled, lips warm with whiskey and that warm feeling it brought, allowing herself to finally forget herself, forget her night, in its impermanent embrace.

She felt a body pressed firmly to her back and she snaked an arm behind her, using it as a guide to her movements. A brief, firm squeeze around her wrist let her know it was alright. She turned, waving her arms sinuously as she did so, taking in her partner. Rosita was in a different shirt, a bright blue that sparkled in the dim bar's light. She smiled over Beth's shoulder at the large man she felt coming close behind her. Beth slipped to one side as her friend launched herself forward.

Of course it was the large redhead, Abraham, who scooped Rosita up in his arms and gave her a quick and warm-looking kiss. Beth's smile grew as she watched them together. She loved watching them, their casual affection and confidence with one another.

She stayed back and left the floor as the music changed to a slower song, heading for the bar. Jimmy and Eric were there and gave significant glances between her and the dance floor. She shook her head and held up a hand to the bartender, who started pouring her another shot.

Jimmy was cute in a farm-boy-attractive kind of way. Rosita often ribbed her for it, saying the two of them would make a cute couple. And for all that she did find him pleasing to the eye, the thought of doing anything about it made her stomach roil. So they stayed friends, as much as his chasing allowed them to. It was why she kept him at arms length.

Eric on the other hand, was the epitome of college-guy charm. His black hair curled when he slicked it back from his sloping forehead and thick-lipped smile. He had also entertained a crush on Beth but didn't do or say anything about it, content with the quiet not-competition between him and his best friend. Especially since they were both losing.

After the song had ended, Beth sat in the corner of the table, laughing at a joke Abraham had just told. He was sitting across from her with his arm around Rosita and his face reflected contentment as he gave a soft kiss to his girlfriend while Beth watched. She glanced away, eyes falling on Jimmy and Eric, his arm was flung around Jimmy's shoulders. They all laughed, though Beth hid her façade behind her glass as she took another drink.

The boys excused themselves as Eric dragged Jimmy to the bar to search for willing women and Abraham went with them to get another round of beer. "What's got into you?" asked Rosita.

Beth's eyes cut to her friend and then down into the glass, draining it on a muttered, "Nothing."

"Don't 'nothing' me Beth I've known you for months and haven't seen you this tense since you arrived. Is it that guy? From work?" They kept their voices down, not wanting to advertise for their business while out trying to have fun.

"Yeah," she lied, "but I just want to forget about it." Rosita blinked and frowned a little.

"Okay," she said simply, "If you need to, you know how to reach me." Beth laughed softly and reached out to playfully push the slender girls shoulder.

"I know."

Abraham appeared over that shoulder with another pitcher of beer and a smile beneath his bushy moustache. "Did I miss something? What do you know?" he asked Beth directly. She shook her head and smiled brightly as if nothing was wrong.

"I'm talking about the guys over there," she indicated Eric and Jimmy with her chin, across the bar. Eric was chatting up another pretty blonde and Jimmy's eyes kept darting between the girl and back to Beth while she pretended she didn't see it.

"What about 'em?"

"Their chances of actually getting to leave with one of the girls here." Abraham furrowed his brow thoughtfully and didn't bother hiding his stare as he took in the situation from several feet.

"Not happening," He said baldly. Beth arched an eyebrow and poured them all more beer.

"Why not?" she asked.

"This is how I can see it playing out: Eric'll chat up that girl, maybe one of her pretty little friends. I think the blonde is for him anyway." They all stole obviously-covert glances in their direction, seeing Eric draw in the attention of a couple other girls in pink and purple, hair of varying shades in the dim light at the corner of the bar. Jimmy stood behind him, looking interested in the conversation, the girls faces as they nodded and smiled, playfully reached out and touched Eric's arm. Jimmy began to shrink behind him, casually leaning against the bar with his back and draining his plastic cup.

"But Jimmy'll screw it up for him. Won't get himself laid with some random chick. Seen it too many times." One of the girls sidled around Eric and stood in front of Jimmy, sparking up a conversation of their own.

"Why is that?" Beth asked, already knowing the answer. The girl slides closer, smiling up like a cat with cream at Jimmy's blushing face.

"Because," continued Abraham, now looking at Beth, "He wants you." Jimmy drew himself back while the girl leaned in as if for a kiss. He jerked back when she leaned further, catching his balance on the edge of the bar. He pushed himself away and past her, muttering some excuse they couldn't hear to Eric as he left. He glanced at the trio where he'd left them but instead of making his way back, he made a beeline for the door, not looking at them as he walked out.

Glancing back, Beth noted the way the ladies there had closed ranks, talking to their pretty-but-rejected friend and Eric followed after Jimmy soon after.

"Why do you let 'em do that, honey?" asked Rosita. Beth looked back at the pair of them. "It's been, what, a few months since you've moved here and I still haven't seen you with one guy." She held out a hand, a look of quiet alarm on her face for a moment. "Not like that, not – not at work. I just mean, you could have a boyfriend honey, some of the girls do."

Beth spent a long minute looking at the door of the bar, considering. She wasn't girlfriend material, she thought, certainly not for some college guy she'd meet at a bar. Not for the kind of guy she'd find herself with who was okay with the stripping. With…what was coming.

"I'll admit I'm horny as hell sometimes. Drives me nuts," she said softly, ignoring the way Abraham was pretending to ignore their private conversation. She appreciated his attempt at tact as much as his continued presence. "But I can't do random sex." The thought had her shivering, arms circling around herself for comfort.

"So bed the boy," said Abraham, voice gruff if somewhat softened by his low tone at their table.

She shook her head. "I can't. Not Jimmy, not Eric, as much as he'd enjoy it." She glanced back at the door they'd exited from. "Hell, I'm sure either one'd make an excellent –

She faltered at the word 'lover' and found she couldn't say it, stuck in her throat.

"I just can't." She looked back at them, her heart in her throat, in her eyes as the affection she felt for these two shone there in the dim light of the bar lights. "It would change things, anyway." The two of them nodded mutely.

"Yeah, Rosita said, "It would."

"He wouldn't be able to let go," Beth continued. "I'm tired of losing my guy-friends over unrequited lust. I can't do that to them. I'm not in any shape for a relationship, either," she gives Rosita a look, "you know why. And I can't do strangers. Just makes me feel dirty…dirtier."

"So you're telling me you want sex so bad," said Abraham, "sometimes it's driving you crazy…but you won't have sex because you don't want to hurt anybody? Beth honey, you're crazy."

She chuckled at the short speech and shook her head. "Maybe. But it beats the alternative."

He shook his head and chuckled the word, "Martyr," at her. Rosita elbowed him playfully and rolled her eyes. They changed topics when Abigail joined them from work, Eric close behind her. Jimmy was noticeably absent, Eric giving her a look when Beth asked after him. But she stayed in her seat. No use following him.