When I worked at that cheap-assed Seafood place I always smelled of fish. Life is a winding road.

Our pathetic DJ, the Splendid Master of Spin, Neelix the Fuzzy Furry Bushy Hairy one, went into his spiel as Belle Anna did her final split and lift, letting all the rubes get a last look at her splendid groin that they ain't never gonna get a taste of, nosirree.

End of music, "Give Chanel a big round of applause, ladies and gentlemen, and in just a moment the Queen of Cool, the Mistress of Menace, The Spider Woman, Andrea, will be strutting all of her Icy Perfection out here and shaking it at you."

I'll Icy Perfection him some day. I'll gut him with a dull icicle and garland the bottles back of the bar with his giblets. And Andrea, also Spider Woman, is my stage name. I'm Miss Parker.

Chanel, aka Belle Anne Torres, came by, bundling her meagre few dollar tips before getting her RC and some generic take-out steak down her throat. She smiled at me, standing there alongside Birgit, pausing for her regular ego boost.

Birgit let her hand juggle one cheek of that perfect little butt, then the other. Birgit hungrily sucked on Belle Anna's dark nips. Birgit's her girlfriend. Chanel, Belle Anna keeps doing those big steaks she might not have an ass to die for in ten years. However, they looked and jiggled just fine today.

How did I wind up here?

Belle Anna's ex-girlfriend had more than once threatened to break her neck if she didn't start letting the straight girls alone. ANY girls. The upshot was whatshername was an ex and Birgit was on-site to watch out for her new girlfriend's straying hands. Belle Anna still strayed. The slut figgered what Birgit didn't know, nah, nah, nah, nah.

My turn to show skin and I was late. Scum-Neelix was saying "she'll be right out folks, maybe she has to make sure her G-string isn't in a knot".

A VERY dull icicle.

Show time. I waltzed through the hanging strips with my teeth showing like a shark prior to enjoying a good healthy muscular swimmer. In his fifties. Aged meat is tastier.

That reminded me immediately of Good Old Daddy and I shut that thought down immediately. Daddy was behind me. Ahead of me were twelve or fourteen hypnotized males and Gabrielle and Xena working the 'crowd' for a quickee 'personal' close-up dance and a buck tip. Jeez, what cheapskates the afternoon customers were. What cheapskates men were.

Fuzzy Face was playing Hip-Hop for my dance. I stood there glaring at him, trying to force my telepathic mind control to make him play something better. Christ, even Korn would be better. The Side-Burned One studiously avoided my eye.

That's all right. I can dance to anything. And I'll do it to avoid having to have that weasel's prick down my throat.

Rotate, swirl ,kick, swirl, climb the fucking cold brass-plated pole, just listen to the underlying beat of the discordant black music. Ignore the rest of it. Normally I didn't listen to hip-hop unless I had my car window down.

Another character waving a folded dollar, do an extra twirl, kick, deep bends. Show those gorgeous legs, slink over to the Big Spender. I squat in front of him, presuming he had eyes under that baseball cap of his, and let him inspect the crotch. Shake it a little, squeeze my thighs back and forth, tilt the hips, like as if I was hot and ready. I twisted a bit and put a thumb in the waist band of my G-string, allowing him to give me a quick pat on my hip-ass. What I put up with for a dollar.

He tilted his head to look me in the eye, smilng that sly grin of his I knew so well from so many past years.

"Hi, Sis," Jarod crooned loud enough for me to hear over the music.

"How's our kid doing?"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

After the paralysis started wearing off, I sat down real ungraceful like. Legs spread out, staring at my nemesis and hoping like hell I was on something that was going to wear off and Jarod would be gone magical like afterwards.

I blinked and he was still there. Grinning fit to smile clear around his skull, he looked so pleased with hisself. His mistake was he put both hands on my thighs, and ran his palms up to my crotch, his thumbs caressing me through my Cinnamon panty hose. My legs jumped in ticklishness as much as anything else, and the motion woke me up.

This was the lying shit who fucked me so often in the ass that I still can't abide anyone to touch me there. This was the lying shit who took eighteen hundred of my hard-earned dollars to go off to Atlantic City with that sleazy other brother of mine, Lyle. This was the lying shit who took my pregnant ass to a highway south of Cold Harbor and left me in the john of a Mr. Burger.

I made a fist and slugged him right in the nose.

God, but he bled a lot!

He sat down hard, then he popped back up like a jack-in-the-box and slugged me a good one alongside the head. GOD! did that hurt! I crumpled and he followed me down to give me another good hit in my eye.

About then our Native American bouncer, Chakotay, got hold of him and threw him onto a table, which he slid off of. Chak followed him down and was set to give him another good one, but Jarod did something and Chak bounced off a chair and hit the floor himself.

Out of nowhere a mostly naked Xena threw herself at Jarod, and bounced off him enough to distract him. Maybe he stopped a second to admire those big tits of hers waving in front of his face.

"Chakotay!" she was screaming, and enveloped the fallen bouncer. Then, her tits jiggling around like small soccer balls, her girlfriend Gabrielle hit Jarod from the other side with a chair. This was a real chair. Not a hand-crafted thing that would last a century or two, but pretty solid nonetheless. It didn't fly apart like in the movies.

That distracted Jarod from the pair on the floor. Gabby backed and danced, keeping an enraged Jarod at arm's length with the chair like she was a naked female lion tamer at the circus. Wasn't going to work, not for long, for Jarod grabbed one leg of the chair. Then he got that mean smile on his lean long-nosed face that told everyone he was going to enjoy what he was going to do next.

He never got to do it.

Xena had actually fallen down with Chakotay to get at the velvet and leather professional sap he carried in the small of his back. I'd never known Chak had it.

The big black-haired dyke swung that little-looking blackjack like it was a fly-swatter and I think I heard it when that lead-shot filled thing connected with the backside of Jarod's head. Xena got the other side of his head in a nice backhand with that sap even as he was folding towards the floor.

By that time Tom Paris had made it to the scene. Vaulted that bar like a stunt guy in Hollywood, Tasha told me later. At the time Jarod wasn't finished bouncing yet when Tom did a savant thing, and kicked Jarod a really good one with the point of those shiny boots he wore. Right in the side. Lifted him off the floor. That one must have hurt. If a rib or two didn't crack, something else must have, because I heard something go.

After that it was post-disaster time.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

In a few minutes Scotty, the other bartender, was stanching my cuts, and making professional Mother noises at me with the First-Aid kit in one hand. I cried a little, my head hurt and he fondled my ass good. Scotty always did have an eye for a pretty tush.

Nobody was doing anything to assist Jarod in his unconscious misery, though when Janeway showed up, she detailed her girlfriend to watch over 'the troublemaker'. Annika Hansen with a half-yard of antique walnut Billy club in her hands looked quite capable of either handling Jarod or beating him to death. Accidentally, of course.

Making soothing noises and patting me on the arms, the owner of the club carefully spoke into my ear. Talking to me without making it obvious.

"You know this rube?" Janeway asked. I admitted I did. "Who is he, and don't lie," she continued.

"Bad news. Old bad news. I thought I was rid of him, and now he showed up here."

Janeway makes one decide to be economical of words and truthful. She's that sort of a Alpha female.

"How bad?"

I considered for a second or four until I saw those eyes get dark blue at me.

"He got me pregnant and dumped me alongside a highway in Virginia," I admitted.

"Virginia," she said. "That's bad. And?"

"Nothing. Not till a few minutes ago." Pause while I steeled my nerves. "So I slugged him."

"You hit him?"

"Hard as I could."

*sigh*

"Okay," she said, "here's the story. Admit he's an ex-lover, the rest of it we needn't mention unless you really like telling the cops everything.

"And he struck the first blow. Got it? Maybe you called him something, but you can't remember doing that now."

"Got it."

"Okay, good, we'll get past this, don't worry about it. We can talk later, if you wish, but for now I'd better make sure the other witnesses saw the same thing."

What surprised me was Gabby and Xena got telepathic or something and asked the men they'd been shaking their tits and ass at; "Did they see that big redneck hit the leggy brunette?"

As a matter of fact they had.

All you gotta do is suggest something and suddenly everyone believes it.

By the time the police arrived, it was all over except the trouble Jarod was in. The cops carefully told the male (and probably married) witnesses that they didn't think they'd need a statement from them seeing as how the two gals saw the whole thing. Xena and Gabrielle'd been rubbing their butts on their customers thighs at the time so they WERE facing the stage at the time.

What we did there for a few bucks.

Me? Chakotay and I went to the hospital in a separate ambulance from Jarod. He rode with two cops. We got X-rays, they gave me a shot for the swelling in my face, an ugly giant band-aid over the bridge of my nose, and a caution to put an ice pad on my eye. Chakotay they tucked away for the night, just in case. Janeway told me the "Treasure Chest" had insurance and to just go ahead and take the day and night off. With pay. The pay wasn't much, the tips was what we came in for. But still...

What surprised me was the Ice Goddess waiting for me in the anteroom of the ER.

I was the Ice Princess, but Annika Hansen was without doubt the Glacier Queen of the titty bar. Annika had an even bigger pair of breasts than Tepol or Xena did. She told me Janeway had asked her to drive me home. She even brought my clothes to me from the club. Very thoughtful.

We took her Chrysler VOYAGER van, after she sat in the parking lot for a few minutes to let me enjoy the sight of the interior. The damned van was a passion pit.

There were fuzzy walls and a fuzzy carpet, a mini-refrigerator and a cold bar in the middle. And a sliding moonlight panel in the ceiling middle. Four big speakers and a five-disc player from Phillips. Annika spun out a carousel and told me to pick out something to listen to. I picked out The Eagles Greatest.

Annika was hungry, and was buying, so we stopped at a Chinese place down by the river, and I picked out the sweet and sour pork. Annika got Shrimp and showed me how to work the passenger chair to recline.

I'm feeling much much better and my eyes are easing closed and I feel this long boned hand on my arm.

"What?" I reflexively say. I look over at Annika and asked; "Won't Janeway get a little unhappy if she thought you were trying to put the moves on some other gal?"

"Just testing the waters," she said.

"And if I don't test back?"

"Oh," she smiled, "I'll test again some time. Or my sweetie will."

We did a few more blocks in the early night.

"I've some Heineken in the fridge. Or a bottle of Napa. If I promise not to rape you, will you invite me in so I could eat my dinner in comfort?" The thought came to me that what she'd really like to eat would be my neatly trimmed and very dark-haired quim, but at this point in my life I no longer got offended if someone made a pass a me. Everyone did. I imagined grandmothers in wheel chairs leered at me when I was in one of my better short skirts.

No brag. Just truth. To some I might just be a viper-tongued life-support system for a vagina, but it's a damned first-class support system and I know it.

Annika brought up the Heineken, and I kicked off my shoes and pants suit and pulled up a chair for my Chinese dinner. I always had a cigarette first. I gotta quit. I gotta quit. I gotta quit.

Fucking habit gonna bankrupt me.

Then I did supper, the egg roll and Won-Ton soup first. Annika came back from the john in panties and bra and popped a pair for us. Girl thought a lot like me. Don't even risk getting a good dress stained if you can shuck it and make do with scanties. She did the tea and rice first. THEN the batter-dipped Shrimp. Perfect contradiction in terms, I thought. Jumbo Shrimp.

About two bites of pork did me. Medicine and uproar was murder on my appetite.

"So tell me about the scuzz-ball," she asked. I blew smoke rings, trying to figger out what to say. Annika watched me mentally debate how much to tell her and didn't push.

"I got a daughter, and he's the father."

Annika pointedly looked around, letting me know she noticed I didn't have all the stuff one associates with having a kid underfoot.

She took a long non-genteel drag on the cold Dutch beer and then asked; "With your Mama or sister?" She didn't even hint she thought I might have tossed the baby away. I mentally thanked her for thinking that well of me.

"Not an amicable divorce I take it," she added.

"Fucker left me minus everything I owned, five months pregnant, and in the john of a restaurant in Virginia." No, not amicable.

"Gee," Annika said. "That's too bad. Virginia, I mean."

Another female who's obviously lived in Virginia.

She looked towards the little table I kept photos on and got up to look at them more closely.

"Cute kid. Good bone structure, gonna look like her mother. That your mother she's with? Looks damned young. Cute runs in the family, but young."

"Sister. I send money and she manages."

Annika came back to nibble on another Shrimp or two. "I take it somehow Jarod has probably not found his kid?"

"Hopefully he never will," I commented.

Later on I was doing a little belated dish cleaning-up and Annika came in and leaned against my backside. Nice strong hands, something expensive as her scent, Lordy, could I feel those big breasts fitting themselves to my back.

"You're sure you won't consider a little recreation just between us girls? If not that, I give a wonderful massage, and I mean it, I give a great message. Relax all those muscles, make your spine bones pop, the whole bit, if you won't do sex."

I fought her off again and she soon left. She left four little gray pills to compliment the muscle relaxers the hospital gave me. Think of them as super aspirin, Annika said.

Staring at the apartment door I told myself that Annika was only being nice in an effort to get between my legs. But I didn't believe it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I had yesterday's coffee in the microwave when Janeway showed up. She bustled in like Sherman taking Atlanta, sitting me in a chair, throwing out yesterday's caffeine and starting a new pot in the Mr. Coffee. She even brought her own coffee, in a shiny bag that fairly screamed Fancy Snobbish Blend From Starbucks.

Smelled like heaven. She rummaged through the cabinets, told me to sit, and had eggs started in a poacher I'd forgotten I had. She threw out my old dry store bread and made Cinnamon Bread Toast with a small loaf she brought with her.

Eating the hot buttery toast and eggs I felt like proposing to Janeway and keeping her as my wife. She even brought her own apron. Suddenly I knew a lot about the relationship between her and the Autocratic Annika.

Whipped. Big muscular blond super-bitch was whipped. Thoroughly domesticated and thoroughly whipped by Super Mama.

Then I had another vision of her naked body face down, bound hand and foot to a bed and actually whipped. Janeway noticed me staring at her, but only smirked and continued on. She couldn't know what I had a vision of, but she could act like she did.

Janeway said she'd take me back to my car at the club.

I knew what was coming when I began dressing. Janeway followed me into the bedroom, chatting all the way, and when I was pulling on a pair of new panty hose there was this petite redhead behind me, her hands leaving hot trails up and down my body. Her breasts fit into my back under my shoulder blades, but it was a repeat of last night.

Whatever happened to committed and monogamous lesbian couples?

Nice breasts. Felt good. My nipples betrayed me and spiked when she caressed them through my bra. I debated slapping her hands away when she started caressing my belly from behind. Until she got into the waist band with both hands and I knew I was about to complicate my life a whole lot in a way I didn't want it to.

"Boss lady..." I began, knowing I meant the phrase in a number of ways. "Right now I get along fine with everybody except Mr. Potato head..."

"WHO!?" Janeway asked.

"Neelix. Mr. Potato Head. Because one of these days he's going to have to get a prosthetic nose, ears and eyebrows because I'm going to forcibly remove the ones he has right now."

Those fingers... She found my belly button and tickled it while one hand enjoyed my nipple.

"I get along great with everyone there right now, and I'd just as soon keep it that way, and I don't know what things might be like there if I start balling the boss.

"Or her girlfriend. Or both. Capisch?"

Her hands were still roaming on my hips and backside, but I'd broken her chain of thought.

*sigh*

Woman had the prettiest sigh I've ever heard from anyone.

"Okay," she said. "But I am going to do one thing I've been wanting to do since the first day you walked into my place and showed me the second greatest rear end in Missouri. You showed me, admit it by God, it's all your fault." First rated rear end probably being the phenomenally tight butt on Annika. Girl looks like she could straighten horse shoes with those cheeks.

Janeway rolled down my panty hose and kissed my ass. Both cheeks. More than once. It felt kind of good. I envied Annika just a teensy little bit right then.

Ever lie and say you don't like getting your ass kissed and you'll never get into heaven.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was an odd morning. We stopped for Janeway to get a few groceries at the Wiggly-Piggly and I got some fresh coffee for myself. There wasn't much trunk space in the Corvette, but then I didn't think she had to worry about packing all the toys and stuff for the three kiddies and hubby for their family vacation in the sporty car. Not this Janeway.

It had a lighter, so we paused while I lit a fresh one. She said something so I replied as usual.

"What?"

"Don't you miss her?" My kid she meant. "I knew you'd had a kid, you bend over and I don't care how much you work that lower abdomen, you're slack there. Didn't know how bad things were, though. By the way, I think your belly looks prime just the way it is. Very kissable"

And I didn't even know if Janeway was ever married or had a kid or anything. The original mystery woman.

"I get by," I said, being defensive, as usual. Janeway almost held my hand but thought better of it.

"What's her name?"

"Amity. Amelia Amity Catherine. Amy Parker. Catherine is my mother's name."

"She's with your mother?"

"Yeah. Smart as two whips, too. Fifth grade. Mom says she's gonna inherit the family legs. She's long-legged too."

"Hmmm," Janeway supplied. Then she let loose the shot I was half-expecting.

"Yesterday's asshole says he's a Parker, too. He says he's your brother. Any truth to the claim?"

I admitted it and she got a funny look on her face before continuing. "You told Annika he was the father to your girl." No answer from me. I was busy staring at my cheap Payless shoes.

"oh

"shit," she said.

No one spoke for five, eight minutes. This time she did hold my hand.

"I won't breathe a word," Janeway vowed. "I'll have to explain to Annika, so her fertile little brain doesn't get too busy and figure out something on her own, but that's IT!"

I felt like crying. But I'm strong. I grew up HAVING to be strong.

She suddenly spoke my first name and I glared at her. "What?"

"It's such a pretty name for a pretty woman, I can't think why you insist on being known as Miss Parker all the time."

"My Daddy gave it to me."

Janeway cocked her head and gave me a Look. "Not a hell of a lot of love lost, eh? Well, you're not the first, if it's any consolation. You ever get in touch with him? Or is he how this Jarod character tracked you down? He still living with your mother? Catherine sounds like a real nice name..."

Janeway stared at me. "Annika told me your girl is with your sister..."

Dry mouth. "She is."

"But if she's with your mother..."

The tears were flowing now, and my nose was running, and I was hiccupping and I just folded into her strong freckled arms. They better be strong or I was going to wind up draped all over a Corvette's interior.

"What?" she managed, holding me hard and trying to rock me. Not an easy thing to do in a Corvette. Then a spasm went through her.

"mother

"sister

"oh hell

"both mother

"and sister

"oh hell

"oh hell

"oh hell

"damn"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Jake woke me up. Jake's a humongous big Irish Setter. I had to stop and think for a few minutes, letting alternating waves of despair, relief, awareness and shame wash through me. Jake didn't care. He was a amicable dog and I was a sudden guest and that meant he could lick my face and wait for me to adore him and play with him and maybe feed him. Emphasis on the feed.

The spare bedroom smelled of disinfectant and lavender. With sudden prescience I lifted my pillow and found a crinkly sachet of what had to be fresh lavender. The disinfectant...

Oh sweet Jesus.

I was brought to Janeway's home, held and helped a lot, walked around a lot, held some more, and eventually a coupla shots of something called "Gretchen's Gold" was poured down my throat.

That last was a mistake. I was mostly undressed and rolled onto and into a very soft-firm bed and then I had to upchuck all that probably expensive Indiana Bourbon.

Now I had to go to potty and my bare feet found a big wet spot smelling to high Heaven of soap and disinfectant. Not only didn't I make it to the white throne last night, but my hostess cleaned up after me.

I was red-eared with shame but I think I was feeling very mellow towards my employer and sudden maybe new friend buddy pal. Anyone who'd clean up that had to rate somewhere in there. Super Mom.

A note stuck to the mirror directed me towards my clothes hanging up, and a big fuzzy green one-piece nightshirt in front begging me to wear it.

The windows were dark so it was night. In a minute a bedraggled me was exploring the hallway and looking in every open doorway as I passed.

On a large bed a very naked little redhead had her legs twined around the legs of a very big naked blond and they were each holding a knee and an arm as they ground themselves into the groin of the other.

They saw me. Annika smiled a big sloppy grin, waved, and continued full throttle. Janeway looked over her shoulder and managed a dainty little wave of HER hand before continuing with what she was doing. NOW I could finally hear the bed making noises in concert with a lot of panting and moaning.

About a quarter hour later I think my ears were still a flaming red. I'll get over it. By this time I was desperate to find my purse and get a cigarette. Coffee was on, but I couldn't find the damned fags!

Janeway was psychic. As soon as she stepped into her kitchen she said; "Your purse and cigarettes are on top of the refrigerator."

Salvation!

I was soon knocking ashes into a makeshift ashtray (a soup bowl) and feeling quarter human again.

Annika was lounging against the doorway, her robe open and a lot of nordic lesbian on display. Nothing I hadn't seen before, but it didn't feel quite the same. I imagined I could see her entire groin glistening with moisture. Or not imagining.

Janeway, very proper in her own yellow and red robe, noticed.

"You shouldn't tease the straight girl, dear."

"She's not straight," Annika replied.

"Has she fallen swooning into those big Norwegian arms and cried passionately in the night while you had your wicked, wicked way with her unresisting and dripping feminine flesh?"

"Point taken," Annika said. "Okay then. She's straight." With that she belted her robe closed. "Probably a vanilla too."

We had Stouffer's Lean Cuisine ham steak for supper and no one said a word about Jarod, or my daughter, or my mother-sister Catherine Elizabeth, or anything. It was eerie and eventually I had to say something. So I told them to ask me about Jarod and Daddy and my girl.

Janeway asked why no one had ever shot the men in my family dead? I replied they'd been shot a few times.

"What a shame," Annika added. "All those shooting lessons the NRA gives out and STILL no one in America can shoot worth a damn." Interesting perspective.

"How much older than you is your sister?" Janeway finally asked. A polite way of asking when Daddy started breaking in his daughter.

"Mama is twelve years older than I am," I managed to say. I couldn't lift my eyes. They both got up and held me.

"It's not your fault," Annika whispered. "And it's not hers."

"Don't blame yourself, and not for that scuzz ball brother either. It's not your fault", Janeway added. "Don't be a jerk and don't be a victim. I've seen you operate. You're stronger than that."

"I know this guy in Cairo, Illinois," Annika explained, "and I think if I asked nice he might know someone..."

I firmly scotched that idea. No hit men.

It was a long night, and this time when I tossed chunks, I made it to the throne in time.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Afternoon the next day, this time, Janeway and I made it all the way to the "Treasure Chest".

But that morning first off I got a restraining order on Jarod. He hadn't made bail, so he was still awaiting his day in court on the assault and disorderly charges.

I was introduced to a smooth older gent named McCoy, who it developed was my lawyer. His accent reeked of Good Old Boy Southern Aristocrat. He was called "Bones" by my boss and they seemed a lot closer than client-mouthpiece. He actually kissed my hand. He smelled faintly of Bourbon and exquisite cologne and discreetly patted me on my rump a few times.

It was closed chambers. Jarod and his freebie lawyer was there with some guard called "Icebox" Archer standing behind him all the time. McCoy greeted "Icebox" like an old friend, and maybe they were. Bones introduced me to Archer with all the apolmb only lifelong Aristocrats can manage. Mr. Smooth. "Icebox" reminded Jarod how patient he was and Jarod should remain seated except when Her Honor entered or left.

It took about twenty minutes. I produced photos of me and my girl, the judge asked quietly if he was the father and was he also the brother, and her dark brown face got tired looking when I whispered he was. After that most of the next ten minutes was Her Honor pointing out to Jarod how unhappy he would be if he got within five hundred yards of me and she learned of it. I tried not to feel vindicative and I couldn't meet Jarod's eyes.

On the way out "Icebox" told Jarod he knew eleven different ways to break his arms.

By then I was calling the lawyer Bones also. He surprised me by following us to the "Treasure Chest". Hot rodder. He was driving a Corvette like Janeway's. Old men and sports cars.

Janeway took us in the front. Chakotay was there, and the waitress Kes bustled over to give me a big hug. Along with a nice sloppy kiss that was far from platonic, I discovered her hands were on my butt. Acting like they were there to stay.

I must own the magic rear end. Everyone wants a handful of it. With Kes I didn't object if she wanted a good fondle. I liked Kes, mind you, she always had a great shy smile, and a killer rear end of her own.

But weren't there any straight girls in this place? And if not, did the customers even come close to realizing how hopeless their dreams of dating the gals in this place were?

Thursday afternoon and you wouldn't have been able to shoot fifteen people, total, if a maniac came in right then.

A bare-chested Uhura came running from the back and threw herself at Bones. He responded by sweeping the black gal off her feet and hugging her tight. We all quickly retired to a side table and Uhura settled into Bones' lap. Kes brought him a tall mint julep without being asked. I stared and looked Janeway in the eye, and she just smiled instead. Uhura wriggling in her lawyer's lap could get this place busted, but Janeway looked unfazed. She spoke into my ear during a break in the music.

"See the big muscular guy with the short beard, over on the other side of the stage? The one with Jadzia Dax rubbing her chest into his smile? Jadzia had a nice chest on her svelte frame. At least I thought it was svelte when I looked.

Did I ever say I never looked at the other gals here?

"His name's Riker, and he works in Vice. Every two months or so he comes by and somehow fails to bust any of my gals for a minor infraction. With his help most cases against me get thrown out on a technicality. He's inside the system, and he can tell me when the 'T's aren't dotted and the 'I's not crossed. This way no one gets hurt, his bosses are happy, and the blue noses think sin is being repressed.

"No money ever changes hands. He just thinks it's a crock to give this place a hard time."

I didn't ask what other favors Riker might be given.

I watched Bones enjoy our local Nubian Damsel and watched Riker enjoy getting a skinny rear end rubbed into his Magic Johnson. Her sister Ezri was up at the moment, and the shorter-haired brunette was putting on a pretty good show for the cop and everyone else.

It struck me that it's a lot more fun on this side of the stage. And it got even more fun when Kira appeared in front of my face. For some reason this little redhead never got that broken nose of hers fixed. Personally, I thought it gave her a dangerous look, exotic maybe, certainly not soft and dainty. Before this moment I thought she didn't care for me all that much. We never fought, but that's something else.

"Want a dance, stranger?" she asked. She had a real sexy smile when she chose to use it. Always did like brunettes more than redheads, but Kira had audacity on her side. She didn't wait for an answer, but went into the dance for me. Only it wasn't the usual I-am-bored-but-my-smile-is-painted-on thing I did myself when I was milking a few more bucks out of the male customers. When Kira began massaging my own breasts through my bra, I glanced at Janeway, but she was leering and enjoying herself as Kira literally rubbed her nipples into my face.

"Kira..." I began. She said shut up and I should suck her nipples or she was going to rip my ears off.

Presented politely like that how could I refuse?

They tasted of talc and Emeraude and sweat. Damn. They fit in my mouth perfectly. New datum; I enjoy nipples between my lips. Why not enjoy? I wasn't THAT straight.

When I started chewing, Kira responded by shivering, fondling my head and running her fingers in my hair, and making loud noises. Everyone was watching. Everyone in the club, with no dissenters. Even Ezri had stopped and was staring. When I tried to stop, Kira grabbed both my ears in grips of steel.

I got really embarrassed and pushed her away, overwhelmed by it all. Janeway hadn't noticed. Yeah. She also didn't notice when Kira stuck her tongue in my ear. Right.

I wondered if Kira had a thing for me? And maybe the National Debt is more than I could pay off with my paycheck.

Everyone was welcoming me back. I tried like hell to be blase or cynical about it, but it felt damned good as Xena and Gabrielle joined me. Gabrielle like to give me a hickey on my neck she kissed it so hard, and Xena forced her big breasts into my hands. Tried to fight like the devil. Sure. But Xena succeeded into placing them there anyways. I felt them harden into my palms.

Yep. I was being welcomed.

-----To Be Continued-----

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