TITLE: Inspired by Beauty

SERIES: Scene 15.Take 4.Action.

AUTHOR: Angelina

EMAIL: angelina2006@hotmail.com

FEEDBACK: Most appreciated.

PERSONAL ARCHIVE: http://members.aol.com/bufpop/default.html

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DISTRIBUTION: Take it, just drop me a line.

SUMMARY: A couple of scenes from the movie.  Lil's POV.

RATING:  R - language

DISCLAIMER: Characters belong to Touchstone Pictures and Gina Wendkos.  Not me

NOTES: Set during the bar-brawl scene and afterwards.  The series title comes from the fact that these two scenes are Chapter 15 on the DVD.  Not that it's scene 15 of the movie.  Cuz it's not.  And 'Take 4' is because there are (or will be) 4 different 'takes' on the proceedings.  You see what I did there?  Sometimes my cleverness astounds even me.

This place is wild tonight!  Just the way I like it.  The booze is flowing fast.  Almost as fast as the money's pouring in.  Rachel and Cammie are whipping the kids up into a frenzy on the bar.  Shit, if they think this is hot they should see the pair of 'em when the doors are shut.  And then there's whatever they do when they get home.  I think a few of these guys might just die happy if they knew that they weren't just work colleagues.

Jersey and I are holding the fort while the other two cavort on top of the bar.  Jersey's making a good attempt at bartending...sorta.  She's still not all that quick and she hasn't quite got the confidence of Rachel or Cammie's flirtatious manner.  But she's definitely got something.  What it is I don't know.  I watch her struggle to get the cap off a bottle of beer for the umpteenth time tonight and I'm really trying to remember why I decided to keep her on after that first night.  On Rachel's first night she waltzed in here like she owned the joint.  And on Cammie's she had the men eating out of her hand within ten minutes.  Jersey wasn't quite like that.

Then I see a guy who's been waiting at least fifteen minutes to get served smile warmly at her as she apologises for the wait.  I think that's her secret weapon.  You just have to look at her and you fall for her.  You know she hasn't got a single bad bone in her body and that she really is trying her hardest at everything she does.  And you can't get mad at her for it.  Even if she does screw up on a nightly basis.

The only person who hasn't fallen under Jersey's spell is Rachel.  That doesn't surprise me though.  Rachel likes a total of five people in the whole world.  And two of them are her parents.  It takes a while to win Rach over, but when she likes you she'll be loyal to the end.  The only person I've ever seen her take to immediately was Cammie.  Talk about love at first sight.  Cammie walks in the door and 'bam!' Rach turns into a lovesick teenager.  It was quite sweet actually.  Nice to know she's not the bitch she'd like everyone to think she is.  Jersey definitely thinks she's a bitch.  I think she's a bit scared of her.  I don't blame her...most people are scared of Rachel.

Oh God! The fucking cops just walked in and I'm at least 70 people over the maximum capacity of this place.  Shit! Shit! Shit!

"Shit!  Cops are here."

I vault over the bar and try not to think about the fact that I just left Jersey all on her own to deal with the crowd.  I force my way through the hoards of horny guys watching Rachel and Cammie and try to get to the cops before they can get a good look at the room

"Look at this place!  There's nothing we can do here.  You're fifty people over max."

Conservative estimate, pal.  I know these guys.  Some gentle persuasion and they'll leave quietly.  They know they don't get a lot of trouble from us.  They just feel like they gotta keep their eye in every now and again.  And of course, they would pick the night I decided to let Lou be a bit lenient with his people count on the door.  Fuck.

"You try to shut us down they'll tear this place apart!  Come on, let's go outside and talk.  I'll take care of it."

Ain't that the truth.  You try telling a roomful of drunk, horny people to leave quietly before closing time and see what happens.  A fucking riot is what happens.  And it's not like there's anything happening.  People are just having a good time.  I shove the guys towards the door.

We get outside and I take a minute to let the cool air sweep over me.  Nice.   I open my eyes and see the cops looking at me like I'm some fucking naughty little school girl who's been called to the principal's office.

"Look, I know it looks a bit rowdy in there but c'mon guys, cut me some slack huh?"

I raise my eyebrows and offer them a conspiratorial smile.  The little one...I can't remember his name...looks away for a sec.  He looks back at me and I can see he's almost decided to overlook my little infraction.  I stretch up and put my hand flat against the wall, displaying my toned arm and pushing my breasts forward slightly.  Hey, I'm not above a little titillation if it means I can get to run my bar they way I want to.  Hell, titillation's pretty much a buzzword around these parts.

The little one looks at...the big one, shit, I wish I could remember their names...and shrugs.  Yes!  He's gonna leave.  He turns back to me and opens his mouth to speak.

And just at that moment the noise from the bar, which has been rising steadily for the past minute or so, suddenly turns into the unmistakable sound of a fight.  Or several.  Not tonight.  Please, not tonight.  I point at the little one on my way back into the bar.

"Hold that thought!"

The scene that awaits me when I get back in is chaos.  Total and utter chaos.  Fights have broken out everywhere.  Glasses and punches are being thrown.  Lou's in the middle of it with about three guys hanging onto various bits of him.  Jersey's behind the bar.  Thank God.  And Rachel and Cammie...aren't behind the bar.  Or on top of it.  Or anywhere in sight.

"Lou! Where's Rachel and Cammie?"

"I don't know!"

Oh no.  My stomach just turned to ice.  That means they have to be in that crowd somewhere.  Which probably means that someone did something to Cammie and Rachel's beating the crap out of them.  Or getting the crap kicked out of her.  This is one of my few fears about this place...one of my girls getting hurt.

Jersey's climbing onto the bar.  For one heart stopping moment I think she's going to join Rachel and Cammie in the fight.  Then she hoists the bucket of ice up and throws it over the worst brawlers, right in front of the bar.  It doesn't make a blind bit of difference.

I hate this.  I feel so impotent.  But I can't move, I can't get to the bar and I still can't see Rachel or Cammie.  This is *my* bar and these fuckers are wrecking it.  Stomping all over my dream.  Bastards.  Looking around I see I'm near a pillar so I pull myself up onto it.  I open my mouth to scream to Jersey but nothing comes out as I see a bunch of men jumping over the bar.  Invading our sanctuary.

I turn away from that horrid spectacle just in time to see some guy get rammed into my jukebox.  Blondie starts playing.  Fucking Blondie.  Usually in this kinda scene is some big hard rock tune that pumps along with the fight.  But no, it's Blondie.  I turn back to the bar, I have to get Jersey's attention.

"Jersey!  They're tearing this place apart!"

Quite what I expect her to do about it is beyond me.  But she's in a better position than I am right now.  Desperately I search the crowd again for a glimpse of Rachel or Cammie.  A flash of blonde hair catches my eye.  It's Cammie.  A bunch of men have her and are grabbing her.  She looks terrified.   She's screaming for Rachel.  And there she is.  She's reaching up, she's almost got her.  Damn, the crowd pushed her back again.  I've never felt this helpless in my entire life.  I'm standing here as my life's work is ruined and while two of my closest friends are in very real danger.

And Jersey's singing.  Jersey's singing?  She's picked up a microphone from somewhere and is singing along with the music.  And the crowd are watching her.  It's like a wave effect.  They're all turning around to see what's happening.  Punches are stopping mid-swing.  Fights are breaking up.  Rachel's finally got to Cammie and they're hugging.  And Jersey's singing.

I feel like I'm in some weird dream-sequence or something.  A full-on, knock down bar brawl has just stopped, halted, ended.  Because Jersey's singing.  I'm looking around in wonder because I just cannot believe it.  But it's true.  And the girl's got some moves!  She's strutting up and down the bar like she owned it.  And right now she does own it, it's in her hands.

How come she never did this before?  She's sliding up and down the pole at the end of the bar like an old pro.  This certainly didn't come across in her interview.  Suddenly the shy, demure kindergarten teacher is gone and replacing her is a confident, sexy young starlet.  And that thing I was talking about earlier...about how you just have to look at her and you fall for her?  Well consider me fallen baby.  I think I'm in love.

Rachel and Cammie are making their way back to the bar, maybe my heart can stop going at double time now...or maybe that's caused by something else altogether.  People are singing along with Jersey and cheering her on.  And she's lapping it up.  She's loving it! And I'm not hating it myself.  The cops are back.  They're watching her too.  Even they can't resist her thrall.  Any other night and I'd be arrested.  But not tonight.

"Last call, Lil., start clearin' 'em out."

I don't take my eyes off Jersey when I reply.

"You got it."

I glance over at them.  The little one gives me a look and I just smile at him and slap him on the shoulder.  Nothing's gonna bring me down now.  From nowhere I get the urge to whistle at Jersey.  So I do.  What the hell?  I'm the fucking boss.

"Wooohoooo!"

I feel like I'm fourteen again, sneaking out to my first concert and being completely swept away by the atmosphere and the voice and the body.

But I'm not fourteen.  And this is my employee.  It's not my fault.  It's her fault.  Her and her smile, and her eyes and...oh yeah.  I'm gone.

*****

That was some night.  And we all made it through relatively unscathed.  I sit on the bar and sip a glass of water, watching Rachel closely over the rim of the glass.  Something's up with her.  She's been acting strangely since Jersey's song.  Now she's sitting across from me on the bar and pouting.  This usually means she's jealous.  But what should she have to be jealous about?

"Did you see their faces?  I mean, wow.  They all wanted you, honey.  Even the girls."

Oh, there could be that I suppose.  Cammie did seem rather enthusiastic about Violet's performance earlier.  And she hasn't stopped talking about it since.  But I hardly think Rach should be bothered by that.  When Cammie was in that crowd, the only one she wanted was Rachel, anybody could see that.  And anyway, what Cammie said was true...they did all want her...including yours truly.

"Not a dry seat in the house."

That was slightly overt.  And I'm sure Rachel just looked at me like she knew something.  There's nothing to know.  So I have a crush?  So what?  It'll pass.  It always does.  Usually.

"You guys, that was like a one time performance."

Huh?  If she thinks I'm gonna let her stand behind that bar every night knowing what she can do she's got another thing coming.

"Hmm?"

"...that I have to repeat, like, every night."

Now that's more like it.  Well, at least her employment is justified now.  She can't serve drinks to save her life.  But she can sing.

"She sang along with a juke-box, let's not start polishing a GrammyT"

Oooooh.  The New York Bitch is on form.

"Oh come on Rach, she saved your butt.  Admit it."

I throw a damp cloth at her, taking my life in my hands as I do so.  Her lightning reflexes kick in and she catches it before it hits her in the face though.  Why did I say that anyway?  Why did I feel the need to defend Jersey?  It's not like she can't talk for herself.  And to Rachel of all people.  My right-hand man.  She looks hurt by what I said.  Only for a second, then the mask comes back up.

"No.  She saved me from kicking the shit out of a couple of drunks.  That's it."

She jumps down from the bar and heads in the back somewhere.  Jersey bounds out of her seat, suddenly buzzing with energy.

"Where you goin'?"

I realise I don't want her to go.  I want her to stay here and talk to me.  Oh no, this is bad.

"I don't know, I gotta walk or celebrate or...pass out or somethin'"

So sweet.  And so Jersey.  She grins widely at me as she picks up a dirty, disgusting pair of tighty-not-so-whitey's and discards them.  I pull myself to my feet and stand on *my* bar.

"Hey ladies and gent, how about a big round of applause for the singing coyote from Jersey."

I start clapping.  I think I'm really hiding my admiration for her well.  Yeah right.  It'd be more subtle if I just went up to her and planted my lips on hers.

"So I'm a coyote?"

That smile again.

"Five nights a week."

And there we have it boys and girls.  Cast-Iron Heartless Bitch has fallen for a girl from New Jersey with a nice smile and the voice of an angel.  Oh yeah, this should be fun.

END

"The Stoics define love as the endeavour to form a friendship inspired by beauty"
(Cicero)