Dancers and Escorts - Lou/Karen
Title: Dancers and Escorts
Pairing: Lou/Karen
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Shed's characters, not mine. No profit is being made.
Words: 459
Spoilers: A great deal of series 8
A present for greenovalfruit in time for Valentines. Tried to write it to a prompt at the femslash_today Love Bites porn battle, but alas, it turned out less than porn-tastic. My ficcing skills are atrophied.
She hadn’t gone to the club since starting her position at Larkhall months ago. She’d been to plenty others, mind. Just not that particular one. Lou had enough on her plate without going to strip clubs merely for recreation, so she had stayed clear of the one with a certain pole dancer. Yes, that one. The one at the front of the stage, making a lazy circle with her shoulder. That one; with her legs wrapped round a poll, moving slowly - down, up, down to the appropriately seedy music. That one, who put on a glazed expression while Lou stared at her.
Yeah, it was frivolous and shallow and plenty more of the kind of behaviour Lou would probably indulge in naturally, if it weren’t for the state of her sister.
These places were such a mindfuck. She liked the way they gave a spin to simple words; where the women were referred to as ‘dancers’, as if they were a few dips away from a stint on Strictly Come Dancing. Dancer is to stripping, what Escort is to prostitution.
And now she was right back where she started. Thinking about her sister was such a turn-off.
She’d been in the club for a few hours. Well, to be quite blunt, it was the early hours of the morning and she was there without the excuse of a missing sister. She was shallow. She was bored. She was a trifle drunk and embarrassingly alone. The good doctor hadn’t turned out to be so good after all.
“What are you having?”
Lou turned to the woman who’d addressed her; a blonde like the ‘Dancer’. No, not like the dancer. Older and well-dressed, in a business suit that showed off her legs.
“Gin.”
The woman nodded at a man next to her, "And a scotch on the rocks as well, alright?"
The man shuffled off towards the bar and the woman commenced staring at the dancer; Lou’s mouth quirked.
"Thanks. Your partner, I take it?"
"My employee."
"Right," she wasn't convinced. “You don’t often see a lot of ladies in this place,” she held her hands up. “Just an observation.”
The woman raised an eyebrow, “Call it an investment of sorts.”
“Ah…” Lou let out a laugh. “So...I'm cavorting with the owner, am I?”
“Well, only as of last month," she said. "I know it seems like an unlikely investment…”
“Only slightly.”
“I have it on good authority that you’re one of our regulars," the woman smirked. "You’re just here for the music, then?”
“Touché.”
The drinks arrived, and the woman refused Lou's payment.
“Consider it a perk of being a regular.”
“I’m not a bloody regular.”
“Denise will attest to the contrary.”
“Denise?”
The woman nodded towards the dancer, clearly hiding a smile.
“That’s not to say I blame you.”
“Right.”
Lou shook her head in amusement as they continued to watch the dancer move through her routine. The woman next to her licked her lips, and crossed her legs before getting up abruptly.
“Well, it was nice meeting you...”
Lou stood, and put out her hand, “Lou Stoke.”
The woman offered her a polite smile.
“Karen Betts.”
Pairing: Lou/Karen
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Shed's characters, not mine. No profit is being made.
Words: 459
Spoilers: A great deal of series 8
A present for greenovalfruit in time for Valentines. Tried to write it to a prompt at the femslash_today Love Bites porn battle, but alas, it turned out less than porn-tastic. My ficcing skills are atrophied.
She hadn’t gone to the club since starting her position at Larkhall months ago. She’d been to plenty others, mind. Just not that particular one. Lou had enough on her plate without going to strip clubs merely for recreation, so she had stayed clear of the one with a certain pole dancer. Yes, that one. The one at the front of the stage, making a lazy circle with her shoulder. That one; with her legs wrapped round a poll, moving slowly - down, up, down to the appropriately seedy music. That one, who put on a glazed expression while Lou stared at her.
Yeah, it was frivolous and shallow and plenty more of the kind of behaviour Lou would probably indulge in naturally, if it weren’t for the state of her sister.
These places were such a mindfuck. She liked the way they gave a spin to simple words; where the women were referred to as ‘dancers’, as if they were a few dips away from a stint on Strictly Come Dancing. Dancer is to stripping, what Escort is to prostitution.
And now she was right back where she started. Thinking about her sister was such a turn-off.
She’d been in the club for a few hours. Well, to be quite blunt, it was the early hours of the morning and she was there without the excuse of a missing sister. She was shallow. She was bored. She was a trifle drunk and embarrassingly alone. The good doctor hadn’t turned out to be so good after all.
“What are you having?”
Lou turned to the woman who’d addressed her; a blonde like the ‘Dancer’. No, not like the dancer. Older and well-dressed, in a business suit that showed off her legs.
“Gin.”
The woman nodded at a man next to her, "And a scotch on the rocks as well, alright?"
The man shuffled off towards the bar and the woman commenced staring at the dancer; Lou’s mouth quirked.
"Thanks. Your partner, I take it?"
"My employee."
"Right," she wasn't convinced. “You don’t often see a lot of ladies in this place,” she held her hands up. “Just an observation.”
The woman raised an eyebrow, “Call it an investment of sorts.”
“Ah…” Lou let out a laugh. “So...I'm cavorting with the owner, am I?”
“Well, only as of last month," she said. "I know it seems like an unlikely investment…”
“Only slightly.”
“I have it on good authority that you’re one of our regulars," the woman smirked. "You’re just here for the music, then?”
“Touché.”
The drinks arrived, and the woman refused Lou's payment.
“Consider it a perk of being a regular.”
“I’m not a bloody regular.”
“Denise will attest to the contrary.”
“Denise?”
The woman nodded towards the dancer, clearly hiding a smile.
“That’s not to say I blame you.”
“Right.”
Lou shook her head in amusement as they continued to watch the dancer move through her routine. The woman next to her licked her lips, and crossed her legs before getting up abruptly.
“Well, it was nice meeting you...”
Lou stood, and put out her hand, “Lou Stoke.”
The woman offered her a polite smile.
“Karen Betts.”