Disclaimer: I do not own CR characters. I DO own The Cathouse and Ruby, the stripper.

A/N: Please note, I wrote Caitlyn as having a dance background just like Alison Stoner (the girl who plays her). The gymnastics I just added, no clue if Alison ever did them, haha. Mitchie is...yeah, not that graceful. Pretend there was NO dancing in the CR movies. Not exactly the most realistic when people are randomly dancing in a cafeteria (unless you're in a flash mob).

Thanks!


Chapter 2

A few days had passed on since that odd day. Once the weekend approached, Caitlyn had dragged dear pedantic Mitchie to The Cathouse. Donning a black and white tank top with wide, flowy pants, the young lady sat in the passenger seat of Caitlyn's navy blue Acura as the said young lady drove. In an absent minded fashion, she twirled a low pigtail of dark cacao waves between her fingers. She did not exactly feel nervous, per say; but she did perceive this as one of the oddest forms of exercise. 'Can I even stay on the pole? I can barely climbing a fucking tree..'

Arriving at The Cathouse, Mitchie noticed the same purple script above the entrance double doors. The strip club was composed of black stone, glitter embedded and glistening in the late morning sun rays. The double doors were a shade of brilliant red. Apparently, this place had been standing for about a year, so the paint had not chipped away at the corners just yet. From what the young ladies could see, there were no windows (perhaps to conceal the fantasies swimming within).

"Shall we?" chimed Caitlyn, parking the car along the curb.

"Do I have a choice?" Mitchie responded with a partial smile.

The curly q shook her head, and grinned at Mitchie's slightly amusing behavior. 'She'll love it. She'll see..'

The pair of youths exited the vehicle, walking toward the strip club. The double doors were unlocked, granting easy entry. The entrance hall was short, a host's podium standing at the end where a small lamp was lit. The wallpaper was exquisite with amethyst hues and black painted vines dancing a minuet of swirls and interconnected limbs. The doorway at the end of the hall had been concealed by scarlet velvet curtains hanging by golden rings, one curtain held open by a gold laced rope. Ms. Torres had to admit: the interior design was rather…classy. Entrancing even. 'Maybe that's the point,' she concluded.

She followed Caitlyn past the curtains as her friend called out," Hello? We're here for the lesson?"

"Right here, darlin'."

A smooth, soprano voice captured their attention; they sought out the source with darting eyes. All that could be found was a tall woman sitting a few tables away from the young ladies. Her curvy mocha legs were propped up on another chair as her tan fingers tapped away on a dazzling pink cellphone, "Tap, tap, tap."

"Oh, hi," greeted Caitlyn. "I called a week ago about a pole dancing lesson."

"Yes, I remember you. You spoke to me, silly," the woman grinned, her copper rust colored bangs whisping her long lashes.

"Oh, you're Ruby! I thought I recognized your voice. You sound southern.."

"Yes, yes," the woman, Ruby, nodded enthusiastically, adoring the mention of her hometown roots. "I grew up a southern belle, you could say. Then, I came here to Cali all by myself. I'm working a second job as a dancer to help pay for bills and all, ya know."

"Well, it's finally nice to meet you.."

Caitlyn advanced forward to shake hands with Ruby, who rose from her seat on a polished black chair. The young lady with the dark cacao waves remained where she stood, a bit shy.

"Is this your friend? The one with the graduation?" questioned Ruby, nodding her head of copper silk towards Mitchie.

"Yup. Mitch, c'mere."

"Darlin', don't be shy! Aww," Ruby cooed sweetly.

Mitchie smiled a little, slowly making her way towards the other women as if she were a cautious doe, wary of her new surroundings. She had meant to shake hands with Ruby, only to be embraced by the friendly woman who was, amusingly, almost a foot taller than she! Her breasts were rather large, almost suffocating Mitchie. Once the woman pulled away, Ms. Torres composed herself, straightening out her wrinkled top.

"Now, let's get started, girls! We'll start off simple, so yall won't have to do crazy acrobatics or nothing."

The pair of young women began with instruction on the pole itself. Ruby stood atop an elevated stage, artificial sunlight of pink shades pouring down onto her.

"Now, the dancin' pole here is going to be your friend. It'll support you when climbin' on it and swingin' 'round. It takes a lotta strength, girls. Most of it will come from your limbs and your abs."

'Abs? Me? Ha ha ha..' Mitchie mused.

"First off, I want yall to try holdin' on to the pole as you walk 'round it with a sexy kink in your legs."

The woman showcased exactly what she referred to, a hand curled around the pole as she walked in fluid movements around it. Her hips swayed slowly and sensually, a gypsy in tight-fitting clothing. Stopping in her tracks, Ruby looked to the young ladies.

"Who wants to go first?"

"She will," Mitchie immediately sputtered, pointing at her friend enthusiastically.

"Fine, fine," Ms. Gellar said, stepping up to the elevated stage. "Watch and learn, Torres."

Ruby stood aside, presenting the pole with open mocha palms. Caitlyn seized one observing look at the pole before curling her hand around the chilling metal. She began a simple walk, her hips swaying as ocean waves; a natural. Of course, Ms. Gellar had once be a dancer (not an exotic one, mind you!), converting to music and producing in later years. It appeared that she had not lost her touch. Mitchie had bit into her lower lip. 'Aahh..I can't do that!' She shook her head, silently scolding herself for being so insecure.

Once Caitlyn finished two completed circles around the pole, Ruby praised her for such inborn grace.

"Honey, that was great! Have you danced before?" she inquired.

"Me? Oh, growing up, I danced. Not as a stripper, though! Not that it's a bad thing.." she rapidly spoke the last part, recovering from a potentially perceived insult towards the woman.

"It's all good, darlin'. I don't take offense, now! A job is a job, and I'm just fine and dandy."

Ms. Torres admired Ruby's confidence and content with herself. She had always imagined strippers being rather troubled and unfortunate with finances. This was not the case, it seemed. Perhaps some women were alright with dancing, earning a living somehow in this terrible economy.

"Good, good. Now..Mitchie, was it?"

"Yes," she responded calmly.

"Well, come on up here!" the woman with the copper mane called.

The young lady reluctantly stood up onto the elevated stage, her russet waves electrified with rose-colored artificial lights from above.

A stare-off occurred between the young lady and the metal pole. One versus the other. Mitchie swallowed, retaining a firm gaze onto the pole.

"It won't bite, ha ha. Just give it a try!" encouraged the woman, taking Mitchie's hand, and settling it onto the pole.

An odd sensation, the meeting of the chilling metal and the heat of her sweaty palm. 'Mitch, just do this! Stop whining, and get this over with! It's a frickin' pole, for Christ's sake!' Suckling in sweet air, puffing out her bosom, the young lady took hold of the pole, strolling around it. With very little luck, she ended up tripping over her own feet in the last circle around the pole.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she spat, retrieving an upright stance quickly.

Once that lesson was over, the next to be taught was climbing up onto the pole, and then sliding downward.

"Alrigh', yall. Now, I want you to try and leap up onto the pole, keepin' yourself steady with your arms and legs. Here's where the real strength comes in. Once you got that, I want ya to slide on down in a circle."

Of course, Ms. Gellar did just fine, latching onto the pole like that of a skilled feline, and embracing her limbs around it as she deescalated in a circular motion.

"You chose this place on purpose!" commented Mitchie, a smirk birthing upon her pale olive visage.

"I did not! I have a background in gymnastics as well!" Caitlyn defended.

"Of course you do," Mitchie murmured sarcastically.

Alas, it was her turn once again. Of course, her turn was just after her experienced and limber friend's. 'Caitlyn Gellar, I love you, but I truly despise you at the moment…'

First try: Ms. Torres slipped, her sweaty palms in no way perfect leverage. "Damnit," went the first curse.

Second try: Mitchie could not get down FROM the pole once latched on. "Sshhiiiittt…Help.." went the second curse.

Third try: She managed to spiral downward just fine. However, she dropped too fast for her senses to catch up and prevent her from landing onto her derriere. Too late. "Fuck! My ass…" went the third, and the most profound, curse of all.

'Can we go home now?' Mitchie pleaded in silence.

*Next Scene*

A young man of twenty-one years of age had been comfortably reclined on a plush sofa. In his apartment, nothing else was audible except the low murmur of the television set. His roommate, Nate Black, had been in the miniscule kitchen, searching for the perfect drink to indulge in the fridge.

"Yo, Grey! Where're all the Dr. Pepper's?" Nate called from the kitchen.

"The what?" the other young man questioned.

"Dr. Pepper, you deaf old fart!"

"Oh, those. I drank the last one!" the young man grinned to himself.

"You shithead.." mumbled the young man with the curly mop of dark hair.

Shane Grey chuckled at his friend's misery. Oh, how kind he is, no? He scratched his scalp of black river banks as Nate entered the living room, settling himself onto a reclining chair.

"Next time," Nate announced. "..I'm spitting on all those cans so you won't dare touch them."

"Oh lovely, spread your germs just for me. Best friend material right there."

"You bet, pretty boy."

The young men chuckled at their bickering, which was their usual way of getting along. Watching anything remotely interesting on television, Nate began conversation along the lines of his girlfriend.

"Oh, Caitlyn should be home with Mitchie sometime soon."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. We're heading out tonight for dinner, so I'm hoping she doesn't wander off for too long. Lessons can be exhausting, after all," the young man smirked, knowledgeable of where the young ladies were for most of the day.

"Lessons for what? Mitchie never mentioned anything about lessons."

"She didn't? I thought she did. I figured you'd be grinning like a madman if you knew she was getting pole dancing lessons."

Silence had occurred, anteceding a disturbingly calm response from the now disgruntled Mr. Grey.

"Wait…What'd you say?"

"Uhh…Pole dancing lessons. Caitlyn got her a gift certificate or something.."

Shane's eye twitched, his reclined body no longer limp and relaxed. Rising up into a sitting position, the young man's eyes narrowed in pure vexation.

"Give me your phone," he demanded.

"What? No."

"Give. Me. The. Phone," he emphasized coolly.

"You know what, you wanna yell at my girl, you go out, and find her yourself!"

"Aahh!"

Shane leapt off of the sofa, and tackled Nate, who wrestled for his possession of the silver cellphone. The young men shouted, their quarreling progressing from the chair to the hard wood floor. Nate held the cellphone out of Shane's reach as best as he could. Unfortunately, Mr. Black had been slightly ticklish on his side. Successful, Shane grabbed the phone, and dashed for the bathroom down the hall.

"You fuck!" called out Nate.

Shutting the door, locking it, the young man pressed a button on the cellphone that would dial Caitlyn's number automatically. Dial tone…

"Hey, babe," answered a voice, thinking it was her lover who had called.

"What the hell is your problem, Gellar?"


Someone's not too thrilled. Next chapter arriving soon!