A/N: If I've posted this chapter, it means that over five people have reviewed. Please keep them going, because I promise it makes me write faster. If I don't have motivation I just lose interest. So please, I know some of you are reading and not reviewing, but I beg you to try! I'm done begging…. now. Anyway, I know I left you with a cliffhanger last time, just a bit, but I couldn't resist. Hopefully this will satisfy all your drooling tongues (even the non-reviewing ones!).

Katey Miller's dancing shoes were poking into her back.

The walk from her three bedroom house to El Ritmo, the dinner and dance bar she worked at, was long but not tiring. She liked a brisk walk for a warm up, so that the minute Marc walked through the door, five minutes late as always, she could jump right into things. Being a normally organized person with a well thought out plan, Katey was reckless in her dancing.

She passed the usual hordes of Mexican and Cuban men surrounding the restaurant's area at this noontime. All had been subject to a cruel government, and they had all wound up in Miami.

He really must have liked it there, she thought. Why else would he stay, even after, as she had predicted, Castro's new regime was just as horrible as Batista's?

"He" was not Frank. "He" was someone else.

Someone you are never going to see again, she reminded herself. Oh, well. There was no use crying over spilled milk.

Right?

There was work to do. Lots of it. She pushed her way into the restaurant.

"About time you showed, darling."

"Marc?" She looked up, startled. "What are you doing here this early?"

"They're looking for another bartender," Marc said, taking a quick puff from his cigarette. "I was supposed to open the doors in case anyone comes."

"Has anyone come?"

"Just one, and this is ridiculous, if you ask me. Who's ever heard of a dancer being forced to open the door to the unemployment? I'm not in charge of hiring them." Marc literally fumed from the mouth. "Two people are supposed to come and the first guy has been in there for an hour with Jess."

Jess, their employer, was a tough guy. He didn't take bullshit, and if some guy had been in there for an hour, Katey pitied him.

"Ouch," she said with a smile. "All right, you want to warm up?"

"Sure, let's stretch." He sat on the floor in a straddle.

Katey followed suit.

"How was school?" he asked with a smile.

"I hate how you ask me that," she said good-naturedly. "Like I'm a kid."

"Katey, you are a kid. You're still in school."

"I'm two years younger than you!" She laughed. "Try pushing your stomach into your knee, you get the stretch better. And school was fine."

He shifted. "Where did you learn that?"

"My parents," she said, shrugging in the best way one could when your nose was pressed between your legs. "They were dancers, I thought I told you."

"You did. I though they only danced classically?"

"They did. But you know. I danced my whole life, I've picked things up here and there."

"I love how you always skirt the question as to where you were trained. Is there a secret society of dance I don't know about or something?" Marc squinted. "Shit, this hurts, Katey."

She laughed. "It'll hurt the first few times, but I promise your thighs will thank you."

"So?"

"So what?"

"So is there some secret society?"

"No, Marc, there's no secret society, and you don't have to think that. I promise you I've never really been to a dancing school before." She sighed. "As I've told you at least a thousand times."

"You can't blame me for asking." He winked. "I'm really going to die in this stretch."

Katey stood up. "You won't. Lift your head. You get a spine stretch that way, too."

"So what are we going to do for Saturday night?" Marc said lifting his head. "Aaahh…. I really wanted to finish my cigarette and now you've got me in pain, Kate."

Katey ignored his latter statement. "I think we should just go with the first routine we had. Remember? When you came to El Ritmo the first time last year?"

"We haven't done that in ages. I don't even remember if you turn twice during the second half of the song or if I dip you. And can this band even play that?" Marc was standing up and looking at her skeptically.

"Well, I don't really know what else we can do. I mean, we can get back into the groove of things, and I'm sure the band knows the song. Jess keeps all the old sheet music around." Katey grinned. "If not, we can always just improvise."

Marc groaned. "Katey, please. I'm terrible at improvising."

She waved her hand impatiently. She understood the world Marc was trapped in, inside his head and following a routine. She could live in that world. Sometimes she hardly understood why she got so excited with the prospect of freedom. Life was easier when you knew what was coming.

"Don't worry," she said. "I was kidding. We can just follow the routine, Marc."

"Should we try it?" He glanced at the box of vinyls in the corner. "I think there's a record of the song in there somewhere."

"I'll help you look."

They were on all fours searching through the records when Katey heard the back door slam and Jess's voice yelling, "WELL FINE JUST BE HERE AT SEVEN AND DON'T TELL ANYONE!"

"Jess?" Katey called. She turned to Marc. "Do you think he's all right?"

"He sounds pissed," Marc said with raised eyebrows. "I don't know if we should even try."

A young man with golden blonde hair and thick brown eyebrows walked out of the room with his hand on his forehead. "Jesus Christ… You try to get help these days…"

"Jess, what's wrong?" Katey asked, standing up again. So much for warming up.

"Nothing, nothing… It's nothing." He was faking tears.

Katey rolled her eyes and laughed. "Jess. Please."

"That loser just walked right in here and expected a job!" Jess threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Well, what was the problem?" Marc asked with a smirk. "I figured most people applying for the job would want it...?"

"Thank you, smartass," Jess snapped. "That's not the point. I thought he was kind of fishy, because his accent was still really strong and he didn't seem to know his way around town, but… I never thought…"

"What didn't you think?"

"He's not even an American citizen!" Jess sputtered. "I asked him for his birth certificate for verification and he told me straight out that he just floated up on shore two days ago!"

Katey had to suppress a laugh. Jess got so angry so easily. "Jess, it's not a big deal. Lots of people have illegal aliens working down here. The police doesn't even check up on you."

"YES, they do, Katey, YES they do." Jess shoved his pointer finger at her. "I am in charge of this establishment!"

"Okay, it's fine!" she said. "Calm down. It's up to you."

"I know. I hired him."

"What?" Marc looked at him incredulously.

"Why are you so shocked?" Jess looked defensive and a little hurt.

"You just made it pretty clear you hated the guy…" Marc trailed off.

"I hired him. He said he had bar experience in his native country, he can speak English, plus the other kid that called sounded like a teenager and I don't want any teenagers working here."

"I'm still nineteen," Katey piped. "I work here."

"But you're a dancer. The laborers need to be old enough to actually drink alcohol."

"I can drink." Why did everyone here treat her like she was a kid? This was worse than being with her parents.

"Anyway, he'll be here at five. He has a kid and he wants to meet you guys… Seems he's a big dancing fan, or something. I don't know. But be nice. Employee interaction is absolutely integral to the-"

"-success of a future business establishment," Katey and Marc finished for him together.

"Right. Good." Jess seemed flustered. "Well. I'm glad you got the point. I'm going to… You go rehearse. What are you doing this Saturday?"

"Do you still have the sheet music from our old routine? The first one from when Marc came?" Katey asked.

"It's in the back, I'll give it to the band." He looked at Katey. "Thanks for doing this for me. It's good money, I promise."

"Jess, I do this for fun. You know that." She smiled.

"Well, we all wish you'd take dancing more seriously," Marc said.

"Keep working guys, I have to get some paperwork done. Be here when the new guy comes in."

"Wait, Jess," Katey called. "What was his name?"

Jess paused. "I don't remember. It started with an 'h' I think"

"Let's get to work, Katey," Marc said, stuffing his feet into his shoes.

"Yeah, sounds great," Katey replied distractedly.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Javier and Rafael left the room around five o'clock.

The stupid white man at the restaurant told him that if he and Rafael wanted to watch the dancing they'd have to come two hours before the opening. He was a yeller, Javier could tell. He was very work oriented, and it was the least Javier could do to tell him the truth about his citizenship, or rather, the lack of it. The truth had cost him the job at the car mechanic, but he had stayed inside the man's tiny office and fought for one whole hour. He needed the money, that was the bottom line. Explaining to this man named Jess that he had to support his nephew, that he didn't even have enough money for a box of cereal, that he still knew how to make a margarita…The explanations had to be done.

Eventually, he knew, he would make a way for himself. This was the now, and the starting point was never the best. At least it can only go up from here, he thought.

El Ritmo was nothing like La Rosa Negra and that was the first thing he noticed when he stepped into the place with Rafael. Some saxophone music was playing, and there was only one couple on the dance floor. It was obviously a show of some kind.

The man dancing was oddly flamboyant, he noticed, but he moved well. However, he was stiff in a way that bothered Javier; like there was some kind of a game plan in his head that he could not stray from. His steps needed polishing, and the way he guided the woman was as though he was not guiding her at all.

In fact, she seemed like a free entity. Javier liked the way she danced, like she was full of passion. It seemed he had only encountered few people in his life who could dance the way she was, and only one of them had been a pale skinned blonde girl, as this one was. Perhaps there was a rare gene in their race that made itself scarce but for once in a while. The way she danced so strongly reminded Javier of Katey he had half the instinct to take Rafael away and never come back, but he reminded himself that Rafael would need dinner, and he would have to provide it.

Even from his far away corner where he could not see their faces, he heard the music stop and saw the man point to him. There was a gesture to tell the woman to wait, and he strode over the Javier and Rafael.

Suddenly Javier felt very small next to this man who was at least two heads taller than him. He clutched sleeping Rafael closer to him and smiled sheepishly.

"Hello," he said. "I'm Javier."

"I'm Marc," the man said, shaking his hand. "You're the new bartender?"

"Yeah," Javier replied. "We just came to see the dancing," he said, gesturing to Rafael. "We won't get in your way."

"Oh, no, it's no trouble," Marcus said. "Sit down, I'll show you the bar in a minute."

"You are very hospitable," Javier said. "I have dealt with many Americans and not all of them are very nice."

Marc raised his eyebrows. The implied question of, "Then why are you here?" hung in the air. Instead he said, "So how are you here?"

"I found my way around," Javier replied secretively. It was not this Marc's business to know how he came, or where he was from. He trusted no one in this country.

"And where do you plan to go? Eventually, I mean. Would you stay here in Miami?" Marc smiled. "We have fun here at El Ritmo. It's not much, but we have fun." He gestured in the background to his partner, who had lifted her leg in a stretch.

She looked so familiar. "I have thought about it. I would like to take Rafael to a good place where I can make a means."

"He looks just like you." Marc smiled again.

"He's my brother's," Javier replied coldly. "His name is Rafael."

"Oh, I see." Marc at least had the sense to seem embarrassed. But Javier did not regret his comment in a new workplace; the assumption made was far too big to correct. "Would you like to meet my dance partner?"

He shrugged. "Okay."

Marc turned around and gestured to the girl. She ran over.

And suddenly Javier realized why she was so familiar.

His eyes widened.

His jaw dropped.

She didn't even look at him.

"Hi, I'm Katey!" She tossed her hair back. "This is Marc, and you are?"

He swallowed. He looked at Marc, who was studying intently. He was sure that every emotion must have appeared point blank on his face. He couldn't lie. She had to know. But how could this be her? He had never been surer of anything in his life.

Javier cleared his throat.

"You know me."

And she looked up then, and it was like looking at an old life with new glasses. He could hardly stand. He wanted to reach out and make sure she was really there. He wanted to grab her, hug her, kiss her, something, anything at all. But he kept his hands drawn firmly at his sides, and as she looked at him, he knew she knew.

She studied him with an expression first of questioning, and then of understanding. "Javier?" she whispered.

It was all he could do to nod.

"What are you doing here?" She was confused. She wasn't happy to see him.

He smiled. "I'm here for a job."

"Wait," Marc said. "You two know each other?"

Katey stepped closer to Javier, still studying him. "Oh, God…"

He took her face in his hands then and looked at her, really looked at her, felt her hands on his forearms and remembered what things were like not so long ago when he was happy.

"I don't know what to say," she murmured as she started to smile. "This is… it's a lot."

"Yeah, it's a lot," he said with a laugh. He stroked her cheekbones gently. "But I'm here now. I'm here."

"This is a miracle!" Katey yelped as she started to cry.

He didn't know what to do. He could have cried himself but he was smiling so far and wide that he just couldn't seem to stop.

They hugged for what seemed like eons of things feeling right. "I've missed you so much," they murmured to one another and it was all he could do to stop himself from kissing her.

Marc's voice drew them back into the real world. "Would somebody please tell me what is going on here?"

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

A/N: I could end it here, but I've set things up as far as Frank is concerned and I have some plans for him. You might not hear from me for a day or so because I have some moving to do and things like that, but do expect another update in less than a few days. And remember: REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW.