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Chapter or Story
Disclaimer: The characters depicted in the following are not mine. I am simply borrowing them for a piece of fan fiction for which I have not, nor will I ever, receive monetary compensation. No infringement is intended.
Author's Note: The following contains a direct quote from The Pretender, a snippet of dialogue spoken by the character Sandi in the season three episode, "Parole." The title of this fic comes from Jarod's response to her remarks.
I Would Remember Something Like That
By Ginger
"Well, hello there, sugar!" drawled the amply-endowed coat check girl, who wore little more than the women on stage. "Welcome to Naughty Nannette's!"
"Thank you," Jarod replied with a smile then continued, "I've just arrived in Clearwater and was wondering if you happen to know..."
"Okay, buddy, move it along and let Bunny do her job," interjected the doorman. He was several inches taller than Jarod, not to mention several inches wider. And, by the looks of it, every single inch was solid muscle.
"Oh, give it a rest, Tiny," the bubbly blonde shot back. "Nobody's waiting and he's the cutest guy that's come in all evening."
"Thank you!" Jarod chirped, although a quick sideward glance into the club indicated that it wasn't much of a compliment.
"You know the rules, Bunny. You're here to check coats, period. It upsets the dancers when you start fraternizing. They think you're horning in. And the last thing we need tonight is any..."
"Never you mind," the girl interrupted. "I can handle them. Just you worry about your job and I'll worry about mine."
The doorman muttered something inaudible then turned his back to them, leaving Jarod in the capable hands of Bunny.
"So, sugar, you were saying?" She batted her eyelashes at him. She wasn't a day over twenty.
"That's an interesting name you have."
"Oh, that." She rolled her eyes. "A nickname my daddy gave me. I used to hate it but it's pretty convenient for this business. When I was a girl, I just loooooved bunnies."
"Is that so?," he remarked, raising an eyebrow. "I once knew a girl who loved bunnies."
"Once, huh? Well, if you don't mind my saying so, if she doesn't know you anymore then she's a damned fool, sugar!"
"Jarod," he stated with a smirk. "My name is Jarod and, actually Bunny, I'm in town looking for a fr..."
"Oh, shit!" the girl exclaimed then blushed and guiltily clasped her hand over her mouth before continuing, "Um, excuse me, I really should send you on your way. I assume you're here for the main event and her second show is about to start. If you want a seat anywhere near the stage then we'd better have Suzy seat you now. Hey, Suz! Over here!" She motioned to another scantily-clad blonde who indicated with a nod of her head that she'd be right over.
"Main event?" Jarod inquired, perplexed.
"Miss Starr," the girl replied reverentially. "She's here for one night only. I can't really watch while I'm working but I saw her at rehearsal today." She gazed dreamily off into the distance and sighed. "She's a real class act... so regal."
"I'm sure," he commented wryly. "But the main reason I'm here is to hook up with an old friend while I'm in town and I was told that he..."
"Suzy," Bunny spoke over Jarod's shoulder and he turned to find another blonde standing behind him. "This is Jarod."
"Well, hello there, Jarod," the other woman greeted in a salacious tone.
"Take good care of him, Suz. He's a doll!"
"Don't you worry, honey. We'll take extra special care of him. Follow me, sir."
He was about to protest when he was interrupted by loud applause as the current *act* drew to a close. Shrugging, he followed the hostess into the club and allowed her to seat him relatively close to the stage.
Leaning in to speak directly into his ear, Suzy advised, "I'll send Candy over to take your drink order. Have fun, baby doll."
*They are rather fond of pet names in this place,* Jarod observed as he drummed his fingers on tabletop, which he tended to do when he was feeling impatient or restless. In this case, he was feeling a little of both. He had come in looking for information and was rather hoping to get it at the door and move on. Instead, he was destined to witness *Miss Starr's* second show of the evening.
*Lucky me,* he thought ruefully. He really wanted to get moving. He needed to find...
"And now..." a deep male voice accompanied by a tinny electronic drum roll boomed over the sound system, breaking his reverie. "The moment you've all been waiting for. Direct from her villa on the French Riviera..."
He raised his eyebrows, faintly amused.
"The management of Naughty Nannette's is both proud and honored to present..."
There was a moment's pause and Jarod glanced around to find virtually the entire audience perched on the edge of their seats.
"The lovely and talented..."
It seemed as though everyone in the room were collectively holding their breath. Jarod was fascinated. *This might turn out to be interesting after all,* he concluded, cocking his head.
"Miss Starr!"
The crowd erupted at the first beat of the music, catching him off guard so it was a moment or two before he glanced up at the stage. When he did, his first instinct was to close and rub his eyes. It was hardly the first time such a thing had happened to him. He'd driven through the night and had been on the move all day and it did tend to happen when he was fatigued. Still, this particular context was more than a little disturbing and would probably warrant a phone call to Sydney. He sighed heavily and opened his eyes, fully expecting all to be well.
Only it wasn't.
His heart pounding mercilessly in his chest, he closed his eyes one more time, assuming that he must have nodded off and was dreaming. Or perhaps Sydney's dire predictions about sleep deprivation were finally coming to pass and he was hallucinating. Whatever the case, he'd snap out of it. He would calmly make his way out of the club, go back to the motel to catch a few hours rest, and return the next day when he was feeling better. He slowly opened his eyes and looked up at the stage. Jarod's mouth dropped open as his eyes grew impossibly, comically large.
"Hey, buddy, we can't see through ya! Will you sit the hell down, already?"
He glanced around, disoriented. He didn't remember rising from his seat but, sure enough, he was standing.
"Hey, are you deaf? I said sit down!"
He felt a hand on his shoulder and jerked his head around.
"Whoa there, sweetie, let's take our seat, okay? We don't want the natives getting restless. What can I get you, big boy?" a petite brunette bearing a tray advised, doing her best to sound gracious over the din of the music and the crowd's enthusiasm. Jarod reluctantly sank into his seat then waved her off. He needed to think. He needed to...
Shimmer. She shimmered. Her thick hair shimmered; her flawless skin shimmered. There were tiny little rhinestones adorning her face and framing her beautiful eyes, which shimmered too. Her clothing, such as it was, was all silver. Her six inch heels were silver. She moved and it was like sunlight catching water, so natural and liquid. She was a goddess; amazing.
She grinned and the look of pure mischief dancing in her eyes made his heart skip a beat. Then she unhooked her long silver skirt with the glorious slit that, like the exquisite leg it revealed, seemed to go on forever, and slowly pulled it away from her body before tossing it playfully aside to reveal a pair of shiny silver tap pants.
"Yeah, baby, show us what ya got!"
The obnoxious voice bellowing from behind him reminded Jarod that he - that they - were not alone. There were literally dozens of eyes trained on her, drinking in her shimmering form; unworthy eyes seeking nothing more than a cheap thrill. His chest constricted as bile rose in his throat. Anger appeared to be displacing confusion but before he could decide what to do about it, she spun around, and around, and around.
His head moved side to side as he tracked her movements around the pole; up and down and around and around until, to his astonishment, she flipped upside down, her lethally long legs snaking up around the shiny metal. He felt beads of cold sweat running down his back as he struggled to have a coherent thought. The room got even louder; the whooping and hollering now constant. He couldn't think and he needed to... desperately.
When she tore her blouse open, the roar became deafening, which was compounded by the sound of blood thundering in his temples. When she began to teasingly inch her tap pants down her hips to reveal the strings of a shiny silver thong, he could smell blood. When she began to work her tap pants down her tortuously shapely legs, he could taste it. When she kicked them completely off and into the audience, the room appeared to be tinged red.
She was now clad only in a skimpy shiny silver bikini top, the matching thong, and death-defying heels. With one eyebrow perfectly arched and an enigmatic smile gracing her lips, she coolly approached the front edge of the stage, where several men were crowded around the wooden bar that ringed it. Every inch of her nearly-nude body shimmered and there were more tiny rhinestones arranged in a star around her perfect little belly button. Momentarily transfixed by the twinkling star, Jarod felt a yearning that bordered on agony.
As she smiled invitingly and crouched down in front of a man waving a bill of indeterminate denomination, the words of a young woman Jarod had met on a pretend some years earlier suddenly burst into his consciousness.
*Naked women... swinging around metal poles... strange men... cramming sweaty wads of money into strange women's panties...*
His hands balled tightly into fists, Jarod finally managed to assemble a complete thought.
*Over my dead body!*
He was up in a flash and when the Neanderthal behind him shouted, "Hey, I thought I told you to sit down!" he spun on him. Grabbing the man by the shirt collar, he yanked him out of his chair like a rag doll.
Glaring menacingly into the hapless man's eyes, he replied, "And I'm telling you to shut the hell up," before shoving him back into his seat and turning toward the stage just in time to see yet another slimeball pawing at her and attempting to untie her bikini top.
"Oh, no you don't!" he growled as he bounded toward the stage, vaguely aware of voices, some of which may have been addressing him, and commotion all around him.
He didn't care. The only thing that mattered was getting to the stage as quickly as humanly possible to peel that man's filthy hands off of her precious skin. He zeroed in on the two of them, not seeing or hearing anything else as his rage increased with every step he took. When they were within reach, someone must have shouted a warning of some kind because she looked up from her admirer and squinted through the glare of the floodlights to peer into the audience.
"Jesus!" he shouted. "You let these men touch you and you can't even see their faces!"
She gasped, her eyes growing wide as she frantically searched the faces in the shadows. Meanwhile, Jarod grabbed the man firmly by the shoulder and attempted to yank him back.
"Get off!" the man protested, shrugging out of Jarod's grasp. "I dropped a c-note for this spot and I'm not givin' it up for nobody! Come here, baby, don't let him scare you off!" he called out to the woman on stage who was now backing away and shaking her head warily.
Jarod jerked him violently around and demanded, "Are you going to get out of the way or am I going to move you out of the way?"
"Neither. I paid hard-earned money for a crack at the finest muffin in town and I hear this one's got the finest little..."
The man's reply was cut short by Jarod's fist connecting with his jaw. The music stopped abruptly, leaving only the sound of startled gasps and whispers as the sea of men at the bar parted, some backing away as others tended to their fallen comrade. Jarod ignored them all as he hopped up on stage and met her eyes for the first time.
"Ja..." was all she managed, instinctively closing her arms around her scantily clad body.
"W... what... w... why?" he babbled.
Her only response was to glare at him, shaking her head in disbelief until something on the periphery caught her eye and a look of anxiety swept across her face. He followed her gaze, turning just in time to see Tiny bearing down on him like a semi.
"Uh-oh," he muttered an instant before the inevitable connection with Tiny's meaty fist. The room went dark.
# # # #
Author's Note: The following contains a direct quote from The Pretender, a snippet of dialogue spoken by the character Sandi in the season three episode, "Parole." The title of this fic comes from Jarod's response to her remarks.
I Would Remember Something Like That
By Ginger
"Well, hello there, sugar!" drawled the amply-endowed coat check girl, who wore little more than the women on stage. "Welcome to Naughty Nannette's!"
"Thank you," Jarod replied with a smile then continued, "I've just arrived in Clearwater and was wondering if you happen to know..."
"Okay, buddy, move it along and let Bunny do her job," interjected the doorman. He was several inches taller than Jarod, not to mention several inches wider. And, by the looks of it, every single inch was solid muscle.
"Oh, give it a rest, Tiny," the bubbly blonde shot back. "Nobody's waiting and he's the cutest guy that's come in all evening."
"Thank you!" Jarod chirped, although a quick sideward glance into the club indicated that it wasn't much of a compliment.
"You know the rules, Bunny. You're here to check coats, period. It upsets the dancers when you start fraternizing. They think you're horning in. And the last thing we need tonight is any..."
"Never you mind," the girl interrupted. "I can handle them. Just you worry about your job and I'll worry about mine."
The doorman muttered something inaudible then turned his back to them, leaving Jarod in the capable hands of Bunny.
"So, sugar, you were saying?" She batted her eyelashes at him. She wasn't a day over twenty.
"That's an interesting name you have."
"Oh, that." She rolled her eyes. "A nickname my daddy gave me. I used to hate it but it's pretty convenient for this business. When I was a girl, I just loooooved bunnies."
"Is that so?," he remarked, raising an eyebrow. "I once knew a girl who loved bunnies."
"Once, huh? Well, if you don't mind my saying so, if she doesn't know you anymore then she's a damned fool, sugar!"
"Jarod," he stated with a smirk. "My name is Jarod and, actually Bunny, I'm in town looking for a fr..."
"Oh, shit!" the girl exclaimed then blushed and guiltily clasped her hand over her mouth before continuing, "Um, excuse me, I really should send you on your way. I assume you're here for the main event and her second show is about to start. If you want a seat anywhere near the stage then we'd better have Suzy seat you now. Hey, Suz! Over here!" She motioned to another scantily-clad blonde who indicated with a nod of her head that she'd be right over.
"Main event?" Jarod inquired, perplexed.
"Miss Starr," the girl replied reverentially. "She's here for one night only. I can't really watch while I'm working but I saw her at rehearsal today." She gazed dreamily off into the distance and sighed. "She's a real class act... so regal."
"I'm sure," he commented wryly. "But the main reason I'm here is to hook up with an old friend while I'm in town and I was told that he..."
"Suzy," Bunny spoke over Jarod's shoulder and he turned to find another blonde standing behind him. "This is Jarod."
"Well, hello there, Jarod," the other woman greeted in a salacious tone.
"Take good care of him, Suz. He's a doll!"
"Don't you worry, honey. We'll take extra special care of him. Follow me, sir."
He was about to protest when he was interrupted by loud applause as the current *act* drew to a close. Shrugging, he followed the hostess into the club and allowed her to seat him relatively close to the stage.
Leaning in to speak directly into his ear, Suzy advised, "I'll send Candy over to take your drink order. Have fun, baby doll."
*They are rather fond of pet names in this place,* Jarod observed as he drummed his fingers on tabletop, which he tended to do when he was feeling impatient or restless. In this case, he was feeling a little of both. He had come in looking for information and was rather hoping to get it at the door and move on. Instead, he was destined to witness *Miss Starr's* second show of the evening.
*Lucky me,* he thought ruefully. He really wanted to get moving. He needed to find...
"And now..." a deep male voice accompanied by a tinny electronic drum roll boomed over the sound system, breaking his reverie. "The moment you've all been waiting for. Direct from her villa on the French Riviera..."
He raised his eyebrows, faintly amused.
"The management of Naughty Nannette's is both proud and honored to present..."
There was a moment's pause and Jarod glanced around to find virtually the entire audience perched on the edge of their seats.
"The lovely and talented..."
It seemed as though everyone in the room were collectively holding their breath. Jarod was fascinated. *This might turn out to be interesting after all,* he concluded, cocking his head.
"Miss Starr!"
The crowd erupted at the first beat of the music, catching him off guard so it was a moment or two before he glanced up at the stage. When he did, his first instinct was to close and rub his eyes. It was hardly the first time such a thing had happened to him. He'd driven through the night and had been on the move all day and it did tend to happen when he was fatigued. Still, this particular context was more than a little disturbing and would probably warrant a phone call to Sydney. He sighed heavily and opened his eyes, fully expecting all to be well.
Only it wasn't.
His heart pounding mercilessly in his chest, he closed his eyes one more time, assuming that he must have nodded off and was dreaming. Or perhaps Sydney's dire predictions about sleep deprivation were finally coming to pass and he was hallucinating. Whatever the case, he'd snap out of it. He would calmly make his way out of the club, go back to the motel to catch a few hours rest, and return the next day when he was feeling better. He slowly opened his eyes and looked up at the stage. Jarod's mouth dropped open as his eyes grew impossibly, comically large.
"Hey, buddy, we can't see through ya! Will you sit the hell down, already?"
He glanced around, disoriented. He didn't remember rising from his seat but, sure enough, he was standing.
"Hey, are you deaf? I said sit down!"
He felt a hand on his shoulder and jerked his head around.
"Whoa there, sweetie, let's take our seat, okay? We don't want the natives getting restless. What can I get you, big boy?" a petite brunette bearing a tray advised, doing her best to sound gracious over the din of the music and the crowd's enthusiasm. Jarod reluctantly sank into his seat then waved her off. He needed to think. He needed to...
Shimmer. She shimmered. Her thick hair shimmered; her flawless skin shimmered. There were tiny little rhinestones adorning her face and framing her beautiful eyes, which shimmered too. Her clothing, such as it was, was all silver. Her six inch heels were silver. She moved and it was like sunlight catching water, so natural and liquid. She was a goddess; amazing.
She grinned and the look of pure mischief dancing in her eyes made his heart skip a beat. Then she unhooked her long silver skirt with the glorious slit that, like the exquisite leg it revealed, seemed to go on forever, and slowly pulled it away from her body before tossing it playfully aside to reveal a pair of shiny silver tap pants.
"Yeah, baby, show us what ya got!"
The obnoxious voice bellowing from behind him reminded Jarod that he - that they - were not alone. There were literally dozens of eyes trained on her, drinking in her shimmering form; unworthy eyes seeking nothing more than a cheap thrill. His chest constricted as bile rose in his throat. Anger appeared to be displacing confusion but before he could decide what to do about it, she spun around, and around, and around.
His head moved side to side as he tracked her movements around the pole; up and down and around and around until, to his astonishment, she flipped upside down, her lethally long legs snaking up around the shiny metal. He felt beads of cold sweat running down his back as he struggled to have a coherent thought. The room got even louder; the whooping and hollering now constant. He couldn't think and he needed to... desperately.
When she tore her blouse open, the roar became deafening, which was compounded by the sound of blood thundering in his temples. When she began to teasingly inch her tap pants down her hips to reveal the strings of a shiny silver thong, he could smell blood. When she began to work her tap pants down her tortuously shapely legs, he could taste it. When she kicked them completely off and into the audience, the room appeared to be tinged red.
She was now clad only in a skimpy shiny silver bikini top, the matching thong, and death-defying heels. With one eyebrow perfectly arched and an enigmatic smile gracing her lips, she coolly approached the front edge of the stage, where several men were crowded around the wooden bar that ringed it. Every inch of her nearly-nude body shimmered and there were more tiny rhinestones arranged in a star around her perfect little belly button. Momentarily transfixed by the twinkling star, Jarod felt a yearning that bordered on agony.
As she smiled invitingly and crouched down in front of a man waving a bill of indeterminate denomination, the words of a young woman Jarod had met on a pretend some years earlier suddenly burst into his consciousness.
*Naked women... swinging around metal poles... strange men... cramming sweaty wads of money into strange women's panties...*
His hands balled tightly into fists, Jarod finally managed to assemble a complete thought.
*Over my dead body!*
He was up in a flash and when the Neanderthal behind him shouted, "Hey, I thought I told you to sit down!" he spun on him. Grabbing the man by the shirt collar, he yanked him out of his chair like a rag doll.
Glaring menacingly into the hapless man's eyes, he replied, "And I'm telling you to shut the hell up," before shoving him back into his seat and turning toward the stage just in time to see yet another slimeball pawing at her and attempting to untie her bikini top.
"Oh, no you don't!" he growled as he bounded toward the stage, vaguely aware of voices, some of which may have been addressing him, and commotion all around him.
He didn't care. The only thing that mattered was getting to the stage as quickly as humanly possible to peel that man's filthy hands off of her precious skin. He zeroed in on the two of them, not seeing or hearing anything else as his rage increased with every step he took. When they were within reach, someone must have shouted a warning of some kind because she looked up from her admirer and squinted through the glare of the floodlights to peer into the audience.
"Jesus!" he shouted. "You let these men touch you and you can't even see their faces!"
She gasped, her eyes growing wide as she frantically searched the faces in the shadows. Meanwhile, Jarod grabbed the man firmly by the shoulder and attempted to yank him back.
"Get off!" the man protested, shrugging out of Jarod's grasp. "I dropped a c-note for this spot and I'm not givin' it up for nobody! Come here, baby, don't let him scare you off!" he called out to the woman on stage who was now backing away and shaking her head warily.
Jarod jerked him violently around and demanded, "Are you going to get out of the way or am I going to move you out of the way?"
"Neither. I paid hard-earned money for a crack at the finest muffin in town and I hear this one's got the finest little..."
The man's reply was cut short by Jarod's fist connecting with his jaw. The music stopped abruptly, leaving only the sound of startled gasps and whispers as the sea of men at the bar parted, some backing away as others tended to their fallen comrade. Jarod ignored them all as he hopped up on stage and met her eyes for the first time.
"Ja..." was all she managed, instinctively closing her arms around her scantily clad body.
"W... what... w... why?" he babbled.
Her only response was to glare at him, shaking her head in disbelief until something on the periphery caught her eye and a look of anxiety swept across her face. He followed her gaze, turning just in time to see Tiny bearing down on him like a semi.
"Uh-oh," he muttered an instant before the inevitable connection with Tiny's meaty fist. The room went dark.
# # # #
