The Dancer

Chapter 2: Behind Closed Doors

Authors Note: No Moulin Rouge song yet... it's coming though... this plot gets a lot more complicated later on so I'm working on getting things worked out. Sorry if there are still problems with grammar but I've been going through and fixing things as I can.

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The instant the wooden door to her rooms were locked Diana lit a single candle and was at work with her costume, wanting to get it off quickly. It wasn't that she didn't like the thing, hell she'd take it over a corset any day, she simply didn't enjoy being eye candy so to speak for the many unattractive and sexually frustrated pirates that entered this place. As she worked with the ties that held the fabric on she walked through the main room and headed into her bedroom for even more privacy.

She dropped the costume on a wooden chair in the corner of the crowded bedroom with a contented sigh. Without so much as a pause in her step she swept up the awaiting night gown that was over the back of the chair and put it on. Finally she stopped momentarily before a full length mirror to admire the black satin fabric of her nightgown as it fell around her body. It was far more comfortable for lounging around her room. Leaning forward she took her robe from its hook beside the mirror and pulled it on. It was also black with feather trim.

Moving over to her dressing table Diana removed the pins that kept her hair up. Gently she opened a small wooden jewelry box and set them within it. She owned very little jewelry but what she did have she took care of. She lifted the jewelry box off its place on the table and walked over to the large sea chest that held her clothing. Carefully she opened the lid and pushed some of the outfits aside before setting the box down where it was hidden from prying eyes.

Satisfied that everything was where it ought to be Diana finally settled herself onto the soft mattress of her bed. She didn't entirely mind being the star attraction of a pirate tavern in Tortuga; it did have its occasional good points... meeting interesting people, free board, fame, decent amounts of money... it just got a little old after a while; the same routines every week and the same dirty old men coming to see it. That young captain she met tonight had been at least a little interesting and had provided her with not only a drink but a semi-interesting conversation... well for a little while anyways.

A sharp knock on her door drew her swiftly out of her musings. She looked up from where she was reclining on her pillows. "Who's there?"

"It's me." A familiar voice called through the door.

"Come in." Diana called back. She heard the turning of a key and watched the old wooden door swing open on its hinges. A young man walked in holding a few things in his arms and was followed by one of the barmaids. The girl, who had long blonde hair shut the door before joining her companion at the table where he was setting down whatever was in his arms. "Hello Nathaniel... Celeste..." Diana greeted, nodding at each of them in turn.

"Wonderful performance Diana," Nathaniel told her. He set about lighting several more candles in the dark room. As light flared brighter Diana could see that there was a large flower arrangement, a note and a black velvet pouch on the table.

"Thank you."

"The audience keeps getting larger; you're a hit!" Celeste teased her friend good-naturedly as she leaned on the table.

"Larger, smellier, dirtier, drunker..." Diana trailed off making her friends laugh. Nathaniel was her piano player and the son of the barkeep, Celeste was her friend since childhood and also the barmaid who had warned her about Jack Sparrow. They were the two most trustworthy and honest friends Diana could ever hope to have in such a place.

"Well that may be... but they do still bring good money." Nathaniel pointed out and went to the table.

"What did you bring me?" Diana wondered and followed him with her eyes. He was picking up the velvet pouch.

"First of all, here's your pay for the week." Nathaniel told her and opened the pouch. He poured out several coins into his hand. When Diana nodded her satisfaction he returned them into the pouch and handed it to Diana who set it beside her. "The flowers are from the band and I."

"That's very sweet, be sure to thank them for me." Diana smiled.

"Of course; you're welcome."

"What about that note there?"

"I'm not sure..."

"Who's it from?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, father just said to take it up." Nathaniel shrugged.

"Hmm... Well thank you two; I appreciate the room service. I think I'm going to go ahead and get some rest now so I'll see you tomorrow." The red headed dancer told them without moving. She watched as her friends nodded their goodbyes and left, locking the door once again behind them. "Now let's see..."

With steps that were carefully timed to match the beat that was running through her head Diana walked to her chest once more. She opened it and slid the pouch of coins inside before continuing on towards the table. Slowly she inhaled the sweet scent of the Caribbean flowers that were left in a small vase.

"Mmm..." She sighed, enjoying the smell. "Lovely," her hand picked up the piece of paper on the table and without opening it she made her way back over to the bed. Slowly she slid under the warm covers and sat propped up against the pillow.

"Now who could this be from..." She mused aloud and unfolded the paper. Scrawled across the yellowish paper was a somewhat neatly inked handwriting.

"Expect to join me for another drink tomorrow.
-Captain Jack Sparrow"

"Who does he think he is..." Diana muttered but despite herself a small smile played on her lips as she held back a laugh. She set the paper down on the bedside table and lay down. Well, she could afford to play around with him a bit more... and play she would. A small chuckle escaped her as she closed her eyes. She knew just how to get him too...

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::NEXT::

Chapter 3: A Busy Day

Thanks:

Dawnie-7: You have no idea what your reviews mean to me. I worry more then anything about whether or not I'm keeping Jack (or whomever the familiar person in my story happens to be) within the boundaries of their character.