(Okay I kinda smushed two requests into one bot, so I hope my two lovely requesters don't mind. 😅)

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Burlesque shows at the Pink Pony Club were always fun. Davina only worked there as a barmaid (two left feet, unfortunately) but the energy of the place during a show always made her grin.

The performers, male, female, both, or neither, depending on the night, were always so talented. Their rhythm was always on point, and their acts were always so well-choreographed! Sometimes it was hard to believe that they weren't being manipulated on the stage like puppets on strings with their level of synchronization.

Tonight, though, was special. Tonight, you were up on stage. You were her favorite performer. You made her heart thump and the blood rise to her cheeks. You'd spoken before, just once or twice, and she'd gathered that while your mother didn't entirely approve of your choice of profession, you found it thrilling and proudly called yourself 'a Pink Pony girl'.

"I always tell her to look at it this way," you'd told Davina once, "| could be up there losing clothes during my routine, but I keep mine on. More power to anyone who enjoys that, but it's just a little too much for me."

Tonight, as she found herself staring at you from the bar, you crooked your finger at Davina in a come-hither gesture. She pointed to herself like 'me?' and you nodded.

"I might get in trouble with Mike later for pulling you away from the bar, but I think it's worth it," you whispered to her once she'd joined you on stage. "Dance with me? Nothing complicated, promise."

Her heart nearly burst in her chest. Really? Dance? With you? Her? Yes. Oops, she hadn't actually replied. "Yes!" she whisper-yelped. "Yes, yes, I'd love to. I'm sorry if I step on your toes."