You can run you can hide and I'll be with you! Time after time. --And update, I shook my piggy bank out and got the money for that cinnamon roll. >} dun dun dun MONEY! And I WILL BE WAITING! Time after time.

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Shay had never been in a club before. Sure she'd seen lots of movies, mainly Buffy the Vampire Slayer, that had the club scene going down, along with other more risky scenes that she had skipped out of embarrassment. But the whole let's get drunk and make fools of ourselves had never really appealed to her. Yeah, she could bust a good dance move, but that had been to more...tasteful music with actual depth, not this repeating DADADADADADA monstrosity. The school dances she went to had been enough.

And right then, standing in the club, fog machine rolling, epilepsy-inducing lights swimming about, bodies bouncing, she'd rather be back home with a good book and a cup of hot cocoa.

Gal, it's been forever since I've been able to read, let alone taste chocolate.

That thought confused her. Where else would she have been?

So she stepped towards the softer lights of the bar hoping to find the exit. Something told her Neara had been dragged along with her, probably by one of their old high school mates. Some last hurrah before college.

The stools at the bar were empty, with green, leather tops.

"Hey, uh, bartender? I know this is going to sound stupid, but where's the exit? These lights and fog are getting me turned around."

As she spoke, she couldn't help but admire the fine angular shape the bartender made with his broad shoulders and narrow waist. Not many grown men had that anymore. Fat was in high supply and muscle not so much.

When he turned to answer her with a half-cocked grin, her jaw dropped.

"Ryan? Since when do you work here?"

Looking ever like a dark prince from Arabian Nights, Ryan leaned a hand onto the bar, cocking his hips out. Her gaze followed his shoulder down to the chocolate, well-muscled forearm revealed by his rolled-up sleeves.

"Since forever," he said, his low voice richer than the heartbeat of the room. "You never asked where I worked."

"I...I find that hard to believe..."

They lived together, after all.

His grin widened, flashing straight, white teeth.

"What I should be asking is what my little lady is doing in this scene." He lifted his hand off the bar to reach underneath it, bringing up a clear bottle of even clearer liquid. As he talked, his hands moved on their own, pulling out fruity mixes and a stainless steel shaker. "Surely it wasn't because you wanted to get laid."

"People go to clubs for other reasons than that," she said flatly. "Though that's yet one more reason why I've never gone to one. My chastity happens to be important to me, you know."

"Oh, I know. I only tease. Maybe." He pulled a clear case of strawberries from a little black fridge. "Though I can't say the same for the men in this joint. If you had wanted to go out dancing, I would have been happy to oblige you." He dropped the strawberries into the pretty glass he'd been working on and topped it with a gorgeous blue daylily that he somehow pulled out of nowhere.

"I came over here asking for the exit, should that tell you enough?"

He slid the drink before her.

"For you, my sweetling."

"I don't drink."

"This is very sweet and light. It's practically just juice. Come on, I know my wife's tastes, and you could use some help calming down. I won't let anything happen to you."

She still eyed him suspiciously as she took her first sip. Ryan could be cunning, especially if it meant getting her alone.

"My shift will be over soon," he said, reaching out across the bar to pat her head. "Stay with me till then and I'll give you a ride home."

And since she hadn't been all that energetic from the get go. "Alright."

The drink was exactly to her tastes. It reminded her of a flower she had eaten once that had tasted like a mango and strawberry smoothie, in a way, softened with something like milk. She missed them. It had been a long winter.

She watched Ryan work as she drank. Girls who came to the bar gave him hooded looks and made sure to drop their chests down to flash some cleavage. But he hardly paused to give them a glance, moving away to fulfill their orders. He certainly wasn't the sit and chat kind. It helped relieve a tension in her chest she hadn't realized she had when she had learned he worked here.

Behind her, the music changed, and the crowd noised like a gale through the trees. Having finished her drink, she turned to see what was happening.

The fog had settled to the corners and the lights had steadied as well. From the ceiling of catwalks and bars was a cage, big enough to fit a man--and fit a man it did. Dressed in fuzzy leopard cat ears, an animatronic leopard tail, and impossibly tight leather pants, was someone she knew.

She spat out the soggy strawberry she'd been munching on. "Parker?"

As though he somehow heard her say his name from across the huge room, his eyes found her and a cocky, fanged smirk spread across his face. He cocked his head to the side, licked his fingertips, grabbed the bars---

And began to dance in a fashion she was sure she'd never known could happen. Hell, she could hardly call it dancing, it was more like--like--

"Upright sex in a cage to music?"

"Yeah, like--Curtis?"

But the man next to her was very unlike the Curtis she had been expecting.

For one, he wore a black suit that screamed money, with not a crease or line out of place. His long, straight-as-rain red hair had been pulled back into a glassy ponytail tied with a neat, small black bow. His sharp red eyes with his thin smile and powerful posture, leaned against the bar on an elbow, made something sleeping and sane within her start to riot.

"Since that cat just came down, I will not suppose the worst, my love." He turned more towards her, sliding onto the barstool beside her so smoothly it could have been down an invisible slide.

Her face flamed. "For the last time, I don't even want to be here! I came over to ask Ryan for the exit--"

"And to drink," he said, gesturing to her empty glass with a playful glint to his blood eyes. "Tell me, are you drunk yet? I've always wanted to see that."

"No!" Not that she'd even know, having never been drunk before. "It was really light and--"

A howl from the hanging cage jerked her attention away. Just a glance made her regret it, as Parker had business in his leather pants that was obvious to the crowd below. His chest and arms already gleamed with sweat, and he was still looking her way.

She blocked the side of her face with a hand. "How is he not embarrassed?"

"Nothing for you to be concerned about," his eyes were also to Parker, though they had turned sharp as knives and his mouth had thinned to the point it turned white. "I should sue whoever brought you here."

"What are you doing here?"

"Getting you. What else? If nothing else I didn't want to miss out on the fun listening to idiots in some dry meeting. They understand nothing."

Ryan's dark figure suddenly leaned across the bar.

"Don't you have big bad CEO business to attend to?" he asked, his expression hardened into a barely concealed glare.

"Tut tut, like the blue-collar worker could even guess at what business I do anyways."

"Guys," said Shay, more like groaned. "Can you at least try to fight where I don't have to get involved?"

"We aren't fighting," said Curtis with a sniff, though Ryan's burning eyes said otherwise. "This is our usual greeting between fellow husbands. Isn't it?"

Ryan slapped a rag he'd been holding onto the bar. "I should poison your beer someday."

"Good thing I don't drink beer. Aside from that, why haven't you done something about that public offense?" Curtis gave a lazy, pale-fingered gesture towards the cage-dancing Parker.

"I man the bar, not the entertainment." Ryan wrinkled his nose at said cage. "Trust me, if I could I would. Ugh, he's looking right at her."

Curtis leaned his chin against his knuckles, eyes still to the background of the club. "More than him. It's a good thing I came."

Against her better judgement, Shay turned. At first she didn't know what Curtis was talking about. There was only the bodies, bouncing, dancing, girls, men, and fog--

And eyes. Eyes bright as a cat's in the night, meeting hers with a feral excitement.

Fear struck her heart and she stood. "Curtis, take me home."

"With pleasure."

He took up her elbow, like the gentleman he was, and proceeded to escort her about the bar. Ryan, for once, gave Curtis a grateful nod.

They moved through a haze of fog, lights, and silhouette, leaving the steady, warm light of Ryan's bar behind.

"When we get home, let's read together," said Shay.

"That sounds wonderful," said Curtis, his mouth now relaxed and softened as he gazed at her.

Memories filled her head of sitting between Curtis's legs on the bed with a quilt over them, her back against his chest, as they read the same book together. Occasionally Curtis's long arm would reach over to the nightstand to grab the mug of warm chocolate (because he absolutely detested anything 'hot') and take a sip. Despite being so close and with a blanket over them, Curtis never overheated her. He naturally ran cool. And it made it all the better for a good book. Though winters were exclusive for Ryan cuddles, as he worked like a natural heater.

In the darkness, a door materialized, lit by an artificial orange glow. The bouncer standing next to it stood rigid and straight, probably to take advantage of all the height he could manage since he only came to Shay's shoulder. However, it was the thick arms stuffed with muscle that really made it up.

Shay stopped to give him a smile, since she recognized him. "You should be proud of having as few freckles as you do as a ginger, Joseph."

Joseph gave her a crooked grin. "Don't you know? Every freckle is a soul a ginger has stolen. I'm falling behind."

"What do you do, suck it out with your buck teeth?"

Joseph did a mock wince. "Owie, girlie, that hurts. It's the teeth that reels them in, you know."

"Yes yes, enough playing, the night's getting old," Curtis nudged her shoulders.

"Hold on, let me check," Joseph reached towards the door, as though to pull it open and peek outside.

"Check for what?"

Curtis's arm tensed beneath her fingers.

Another hand, tight and damp, grasped her other arm. Before she could look to see who had her, they yanked her back, with a strength sudden enough to slip her out of Curtis's reach.

Curtis whirled about, reaching for her, a snarl twisting his handsome features.

But as though she'd become as light as a sheet, the hands pulled her off her feet and back into the fog. Lights dotted her vision, making it difficult to see. She could hear Ryan a ways off, shouting for security.

When she finally was dropped, the shaded forms of the dancers had cleared just enough for her to see parts of rabbits. A set of rabbit ears here, a fluffy tail there, a playboy bunny on a tight-fitting shirt to the right.

Up above, Parker hung his head through the bars, his eyes dilated and faraway. He didn't look right. She wondered if it was even her he was seeing.

"Such a waste," said a dancer.

"Get up, join us, don't leave."

"Let me get a closer look."

"Just a kiss could save me. Don't you know what kind of shit I have to live with?"

"Do it for us." A hand pulled her to her feet, only to press their body against hers.

"Who said you first?" Another pulled her away too fast. She stumbled and caught herself against a playboy bunny shirt.

A commotion started up in the back, pierced through by a roar of fury from Ryan.

"Hands off my wife!"

"Let me through or I'll kill you all," shouted Curtis. "And no law will be able to save you!"

"Joseph! What the hell!" cried Ryan.

The heads turned, their smiles growing. More hands and arms wrapped about her. She was pulled back down to the floor, her clothes torn away, her screams ignored.

Parker's empty eyes watched like a spotlight to the horror. A clawed hand hung out, reaching towards her.

Flesh smothered her, cold like mint, nasty as orange juice on a toothpaste flavored tongue. Tears poured out, blinding her.

I just wanted to go home!

An air-shattering clang broke through.

"Police! Hands in the air!"

The call was repeated like a gunshot, sweeping aside the crowd. One by one the hands and other bits she didn't want to recognize were pulled off her. Someone called her name, but she couldn't hear them above the strength of her sobs.

"Lieutenant, I'm grateful, but I demand you turn these criminals over to me."

"I don't care how much power you have, Curtis. You won't stop me from fulfilling my duty to the law."

That made her catch on a hiccup. "M-Muir?"

A heavy trenchcoat dropped about her shoulders, tugged about her to cover her nakedness. Through her bleary vision, she saw a golden man crouching down before her, his blue eyes bright and gentle in the switched-on lights of the club. The fog had vanished.

Dressed in a button-up blue shirt and slacks, Harvey knelt before her.

Her bottom lip curled out, chin wrinkling.

"How--why--"

"A good detective is always a step ahead of the bad guys." His hand, so very clean and soft, brushed against her cheek. "Especially where you are concerned."

Ryan stepped up beside him, radiating fury. Harvey frowned, glanced at him, and backed away to be replaced by a frantic Ryan.

"Are you hurt? Where does it hurt? Oh god, there are bruises already." He licked his thumb to rub at a smear on her cheek. His golden eyes grew bright. "I'll kill them. I promise I'll kill them and--"

"I'm standing right here," said Harvey wryly.

"Fuck you."

"Strong words to the one who brought the cops in the nick of time. If you worked here, shouldn't you have been aware of their plans from the get-go?"

"For the last time, I man the bar! I'm not the freaking manager!"

Past them, men in police uniforms went about cuffing the dancers one by one, wrestling with the more reluctant ones. Joseph had already been hog-tied face down to the floor, fluffy ginger hair disheveled.

Dang, they worked fast.

"Won't be manning the bar anymore." Curtis came up to Shay's other side, placing a cool hand on her frazzled head. "Consider your club out of business."

Something flickered off in Shay's head. "But--but how is Ryan going to pay for medical school?"

"I already offered him a grant--"

"And I already said I can pave my own way. What kind of man is made by taking handouts?" He cupped Shay's face, irritation at Curtis giving way to an appeasing smile. "Don't worry, sweet, there's always other jobs. I was going to quit anyway."

"If you're done, I'd like to verify the victim's state for the records," said a flat voice.

Ryan looked ready to tell Lieutenant Muir where to stick his report, but caught a look from Curtis, probably because those records were what Curtis would be using in court. Reluctantly, he eased around to Shay's otherside, draping an arm around her shoulder, as the sharp visage of Muir, dressed in black with his badge gleaming gold from his breast. The way he looked down at her past his nose, electric blue eyes piercing through what was left of the gloom, gave her the impression of a dark bird of prey ready to dive.

But then he crouched down before her, features softening, hanging his hands between his knees.

"Forgive me, Shay. I came as soon as the detective called."

She sniffed. Opened her eyes to thank him for coming at all, but her throat had closed up. She swallowed hard, hugging in the edges of the trenchcoat to make sure no sign of her nakedness showed through. Remembering her state of being brought the tears back.

"I just wanted to be home," she told him. "Why would they do this to me? I'm not anything special, so why?"

Muir's face crumpled with sympathy and warmth. He reached out, as though to stroke her hair, but stopped half-way and hung his large hand back on his knee. He took a deep breath.

"Tell me what happened. I'll make sure you never have to deal with them again."

She gave her story, which wasn't much, as best as she could. Harvey wrote down the report, which he handed to Muir over his shoulder. Once Muir had Curtis's and Ryan's statements as well, he folded them, stuffed it in his breast pocket, and stood.

"I'll let you two escort her home," he said, softly, which clashed with his bird-of-prey visage. "I'm afraid I don't have any officers to spare as an escort tonight."

"Don't bother," said Curtis curtly.

"What about Parker?" Shay looked up, only to find the dancing cage gone.

"I'll check with him," said Harvey. "Even from here it looked like he was on some kind of drug, so I'll get him to a hospital, just in case, so don't worry. You just get home to your babies."

Despite her raw and gutted out state of being, she perked up, ever so slightly.

That's right, waiting at home...

"Half of them have probably snuck out of their beds and into ours by now," said Curtis. She couldn't tell if he was irritated and affectionate. Probably a bit of both.

"Ugh, seriously?" Ryan, however, had no qualms. Pure irritation. "Sleeping with your kids is like sleeping in a nest of snakes."

"No one told you to sleep with them."

"I want to sleep with my wife!"

As they argued, they both helped Shay to her feet. Muir looked unimpressed with the both of them while Harvey looked amused.

"If you ever get tired of them..." said Harvey with a half-cocked smile.

"Don't you dare," hissed Curtis.

Harvey just put up his hands, still smiling.

"Why she even puts up with you two..." said Muir with a sigh. "Clear the way, men."

Shay had just taken her first bare step, clinging to the image of warm children and books and hot cocoa and home, home, home--

And woke up laying in an earthen cave, smothered in hide furs.