I do not own Dirty Dancing.

Chapter Thirty Four

POV Baby

The Cha-Cha

"2, 3, cha-cha-cha- Hey!" I shout, at the sensation of Johnny's hand slipping down to my butt. What a hypocrite! He spends weeks yelling at me for such things, and now that we were a couple, it was okay? I don't think so. "My frame, where's my pleasing arc?"

Johnny leaned foreword, attempting to kiss me. Gleefully, I tease him, "Spaghetti arms! Would you give me some tension, Please?" Johnny growled at me. It was a lover's growl. Not a warning. A growl of desire and passion and lust. He pulled me close to him. I felt his lips all over me, on my belly, my neck and shoulders, and the skin exposed on my chest. "You're invading my dance space," I say, pushing him away from me. My words mock his earlier lessons, but it was too much fun to care. Johnny moved to grab me while I spoke. I gesture in front of me, "This is my dance space," I gesture in front of him, "That's yours. Let's Cha-Cha,"

Johnny nodded politely as we started to dance again. He quickly dismissed what I had said, and resumed kissing my chest. "Don't look down," I tease. I point to my eyes. "Look right here,"

Gracefully, I Cha-Cha away from Johnny. "Sylvia?" His voice called from across the room.

I turn to see him laying in a provocative position on the floor. "Yes, Mickey?"

"How you call your loverboy?"

As I disappear behind the room divider, I answer, "Come here loverboy,"

"And if he doesn't answer?" Johnny asked, moving from his side to his knees.

"Oh, loverboy,"

Still on his hands and knees, Johnny asked again, "And if he still doesn't answer?"

I fall to my knees and crawl over to Johnny, whose dark clothes contrasted deeply with the white tile. "I simply say, 'Baby, oh, baby," I stopped with Johnny halfway through this room. He rose to match my height. "My sweet baby. You're the one,'"

Johnny's hands slip over my hips. mouth pressing lips to my skin. I touch his jaw, holding on as we rose together. "Baby, oh, baby,"

"Johnny!" A voice called from the stairway. We spring apart.

"Yeah?" Johnny responded, hurrying over to the record player. If Neil caught us together, it wouldn't be good. We would be screwed. It would be the end of our secret relationship. Suffice it to say, we weren't going to let that happen.

My sweet baby,

You're the one,

"Baby, you're taking dance lessons?" Neil asked. I nod at his words, while continuing to do Cha-Cha steps. "I could teach you, kid," Neil suggested. The thought was laughable, not lessened by his doing a few dance steps.

Johnny cut the record, and the smile fell from Neil's face. Johnny and I were well aware that Neil had been attempting to flirt with me ever since I got here. And while Neil didn't know about us, and we couldn't really stop him, it still bothered Johnny to see Neil do it. Especially right in front of him.

Neil walked over towards Johnny purposefully. Johnny hated Neil, and no doubt wanted this over with as soon as possible. Finally he spoke, "Uh. Johnny, my Grandfather put me in charge of the final show. I want to talk to you about the last dance?" Johnny gave a nod, but said nothing. Neil continued in a sly voice, one that, had he used on me, would've made me very uncomfortable. "I'd like to uh... shake things up a bit,"

"Yeah?"

"You know, move with the times?"

I could hear the excitement in Johnny's voice. He'd been wanting something like this to happen for a while now. "Yeah, I've got a lot of ideas! I've been working with the staff kids on this like cross between this Cuban rhythm, and the- and the soul dancing," He adds, "Like those-" Skilfully, Johnny demonstrated a step.

Neil stopped Johnny before his hopes could get too high. Like I knew he would. Johnny deserved more than anyone to have his opinions heard. But Neil didn't care. "Woah, boy, it's way over your head here. Now I thought, you always do the Mambo. Huh? Now why not dance this year's final dance," Neil looked to me with a sly smirk. "To the Pachenga."

"Right." Johnny answered in a bitter voice. I didn't know what the Pachenga was, but judging by Johnny's tone, it wasn't anything good.

"Well, you're free to do the same tired number as last year if you want, but uh... next year, we'll find another dance person who'll be only too happy to-"

"Sure, Neil," Johnny spat, "No problem. We'll end the season with the Pachanga. Great idea."

For a moment, I don't believe it. I couldn't believe that Johnny had given in to the likes of Neil. It couldn't be that hard to tell Neil what he thought should be done. He shouldn't have let Neil talk to him like that. Johnny wouldn't have taken that from anyone else. Not from me, Penny, Billy, or even Vivian Pressman.

Neil walked over to me. Cruelly, he says something that he knows Johnny can hear, "Sometimes he's hard to talk to, but the ladies seem to like him," I bite back the words that want to leave my mouth. I want to defend Johnny with all my heart. But I can't, because Neil can't know about us. He can't even suspect. "See that he gives you the full half hour you're paying for, kid,"

I hated Neil. He came in here, and flirted with me. Then, he was so cruel to Johnny, and made a point to insult him. And I couldn't even defend him. Then he assumed that Johnny would cut corners, or people would only be around him if they were paying for dance lessons. I hated Neil. But thankfully, he left, leaving Johnny and I alone in the dance studio.

Behind me, I hear Johnny slam the record player shut.

"That little wimp! He wouldn't know a new idea if it hit him in the Pachanga! If he wanted some new ideas, I could've told him some new ideas," Johnny railed as we walked through the woods. I knew from the moment the record player shut that Johnny was going to blow up. He knew it too. And so we were here, because that didn't need to happen in the dance studio.

"Well, why did you let him talk to you that way?" I ask. He didn't need to let Neil go without him hearing Johnny's opinion. He could've told him.

"What do you mean, fight the bossman?" Johnny asked in disbelief, as if the idea was preposterous.

"Yeah, tell him your ideas," I suggest excitedly. "He's a person, like everyone else, I'm sure he'd think they're great,"

Johnny will not have it. He refused to believe that maybe someone out there wanted to hear him. "Look, I know these people, Baby," He says. "They are rich, and they're mean. They won't listen to me,"

"Well then why not fight harder, make them listen?"

Johnny's answer is in a bitter tone, like the rest of this conversation. The voice he uses is like the one he used on the night I found Penny. A voice that was meant to say that I had it all wrong. Johnny answered, "Because I need this goddamn job lined up for next Summer. My Dad calls me today, he says, with good news, you know, he says 'Uncle Paul can finally get you into a Union,'"

I know just by his voice that it was nothing good. But I ask anyway. "Oh, what- what Union?"

Johnny stopped, and crossed his arms. He frowned down at me. "Housepainters And Plasterers, Local Number 179, at your service,"

I touch his shoulder. I would never know what that was like, to be told by a family member that all you were good for was grunt work. One of the many differences between Johnny and I. He was always going to have to fight for respect. But I would probably never have to. Johnny pulled away from my touch, something he'd never done before. Not even once.

Down the hill, there is a noise. I look, and see Lisa walking with Robbie and my Father. They cannot see us. Desperately, I pull Johnny down, hoping it stays that way. Lisa says, "You know, I've been thinking a lot about the domino theory. Now, when Vietnam falls, is China next?" My Father put an arm around Robbie's shoulder as the trio strolled along together. The moment passes as quickly as it came.

Johnny wears a cold smirk. "I don't think they saw us," I say. Wordlessly, Johnny stands. I follow, bracing for his next words, which would be nothing good.

"Fight harder, huh?" Johnny asked, voice cold. "I don't see you fighting so hard, Baby. I don't see you running up to Daddy, telling him I'm your guy," He spat.

"Look, I will. I... with my Father, it's complicated. I will tell him, I-"

"I don't believe you, Baby," Johnny shouted. He sounds angry. But that is not it. He is more hurt than anything. His expression is one of pain. Which was when I understood, for him, this was all too similar to what the Bungalow Bunnies had done to him. They had made him think they cared, and refused to take any real action towards a real relationship. My chest ached at the thought that he would ever feel that way because of me. Johnny pulled his pained, blue eyes from my face. "I don't think that you ever had any intention of telling him. Ever."

His words hurt more than any injury. More than my Father's cold shoulder. This is a pain worse than any I have ever felt before.

Johnny disappeared into the woods, not even giving me the chance to explain.