A/N: Aaand I'm back. Yet another story that just kept bugging me to be written. As always, I own none of the characters in this story (except one very irrelevant OC) and Glee belongs to FOX.

This fic was inspired by The Soho Dolls - Stripper (which we all know from the famous Gossip Girl scene in the burlesque club with Chuck and Blair. If you don't you have some catching up to do.)

Some blurring of the lines with rating. Could be borderline M for maturity ;)

But regardless, enjoy the fic and as ever, PLEASE review :D pwease.

"Right, I'm off to work – I'll see you girls later." Santana called, picking her coat off the sofa and shrugging it over her body.

"Santana!" Kurt protested, feeling indignant at her name-calling.

"Love you!" Santana blew him a kiss and left the apartment, the sliding door banging shut behind her.

She would have gotten to work earlier if the train hadn't been delayed, but it was just her luck that there would be unrest on her way into town. And that wasn't even mentioning the people on the train. There were businessmen on their late night commutes, eyeing her over their newspapers, rustling the pages and each emitting a strong smell of a hard day's work. There was a gaggle of girls, in stiletto heels and tiny dress, giggling about the prospect of a great night in town. Santana envied them, except for the fact that she was going to a club like them, to dance like them, and she'd be getting paid for it. There was a couple sat opposite Santana and this was what disgusted her most. Couples. Who had time for a relationship these days?

Santana was content with a good lay and in her line of work that was always readily available. She screwed around with male patrons and the occasional female that found their way into her club. She still felt an extra special zing after a night with a beautiful lady, but she didn't complain about the men – they had to be good for something. She eyed the couple across from her and curled her lip. Noticing the woman looking away from her boyfriend and fiddling inattentively with her ring, Santana felt a little smugger. Who needed a relationship with all the troubles it brought?

Eventually she arrived at the dingy club and slipped through the side door, into her backroom to change. The lights flickered around the dirty mirror and she took a shot of vodka left out for her by one of the other girls. Her boss, Kevin, was a robust man with a cigarette constantly hanging out of his mouth. He burst into the dressing room, uninvited, and snapped his fingers at her as she pulled her coat off.

"Come on Santana, I've got customers waiting!"

Santana rolled her eyes and curled her lip at the boss as she turned away from him, throwing another shot back with the bottle she left under the vanity table. She pulled on a pair of fishnet tights, tight black shorts and a bedazzled bustier with long black boots. Kevin pushed her forcibly out of the dressing room door just as she was applying her strong red lipstick and brushing her long, straight black hair. The lipstick fell to the floor and she knew she'd never see it again.

Luckily it was only a cheaply branded one she used solely for work - in her job she could afford amenities like two lipsticks. Santana enjoyed her work; that was true. Being in the spotlight, dancing and losing all her inhibitions for money – this was easy and enjoyable work for her. But Kevin treated her, and all the other girls, like dirt and made her feel as cheap as the red lipstick rolling around on the sticky floor of the club.

She opened the door of her cage and stepped inside, waiting for the music to consume her, to escape within it, and get the recognition she deserved - even if her boss wouldn't give it to her.

Sebastian Smythe was getting desperate. His emotions and hormones were riding high and he was looking for release. It had been almost a week since his last rendezvous and he wasn't sure how much longer he could contain himself. He knew there was a dance club near his apartment but he rarely ventured there. It wasn't that he was put off by the scantily-clad girls dancing – on the contrary, he found them equally appetising. It was the voyeurs that were the problem – they weren't really his type if they were going to stare at women rather than him.

Nevertheless, he was in need of a drink and maybe, just maybe, he could coax someone back to his apartment. Male or female – right now he wasn't picky, as long as they were up for it.

He pushed open the swinging door into the dark club and made his way to the bar. He ordered his speciality, a Tom Collins, and downed it in one before signalling the bartender for another. He picked the drink up and weaved his way through the crowds seeing what the club had to offer.

A redhead here, a tall blonde male there and a fat guy with a cigarette looking down on the peons below him as he overlooked his workers; it was looking like slim pickings from where Sebastian was stood.

Perhaps the girls in the cages would be more enticing. He pushed his way through the sweaty men staring up at the girls and found a spot right in front of the bars of one cage. A tall, tanned girl was sashaying around at the other side of the cage, her long black hair flowing down her back. He was desperate for her to come to where he was so he could get a look at her face. From the way she moved her hips in those tight, black shorts, he knew this was something he'd be interested in.

She wiggled around a little more, running her hands along the bars, gripping them with both hands and leaning away from them. She arched her back and lifted a bended knee into the air, pushing her hips towards the bars. Her face tilted towards him for a moment but before he could see her properly, her dark hair had whipped across her face and she was stood statuesquely against the bars.

She moved away from the gawping men who had thrust dollar bills through the bars and she tucked them graciously into her shorts before slinking away from them and moving closer to his side.

She drew nearer and nearer and finally she dropped to rest on her heels in front of him. His jaw dropped.

"Santana?" cried Sebastian Smythe, looking back at her through the bars. His ever-vibrant green eyes were sparkling with a mix of shock and admiration.

"What are you doing here, Smythe?" snapped Santana, curling her lip and folding her arms on her bent knees.

"I live near here and I thought I'd come check this place out. You are very good, Lopez." He leered at her and reached through the bars.

"Hands off, no touching." Santana swatted his hands away and made to stand up and continue her routine.

"I think we should make time to catch up, Santana, don't you?" asked Sebastian with a smirk.

"Give me a tip and I'll think about it." Santana said sweetly, eyeing him with a challenging expression.

"I'll be at the bar when you're finished." Sebastian willingly handed her a twenty dollar bill and made his way out of the crowd to the bar.

Santana tucked the twenty into her bustier and strutted to the other side of the cage, smirking to herself. She flipped her long dark hair over her shoulder as she slithered down the bars, blowing pouting kisses to her admirers. She rose slowly and glanced behind her to see Sebastian watching her, a half smile on his face as he nodded his head to the music. He caught her eye and raised his half-filled glass to her in cheers.

She looked at him haughtily and inclined her head slightly to acknowledge him. Santana pressed one palm against the bars and popped her hips in time to the music, swivelling them in swift circles as she sank to the floor once more. She kept her eyes locked on Sebastian's as she continued to dance in the cage, letting the music flow through her as she progressed with the routine, never taking her dark eyes from his green ones.

She arched her back again, pushing her butt out as she stood, running a hand over the back of her thighs and behind, accentuating her curves. Holding one hand on her lower back, she removed the other from the cold, metal bars and embedded it in her thick hair as she swung it around in the classic hairography moves she'd learnt in high school. She pulled the hand through her hair and down her face. It caught her mouth as she drew the hand down and she felt the inside of her lip wet her hot skin. The hand landed on her chest and she felt her heart racing. She popped her chest a couple of times before moving into the centre of the cage to end her routine. She crossed her long legs over one another to reach the middle before sinking into her well-practised splits, running a hand across her forehead in mock salute and winking into the crowd.

A roar of applause ripped through the patrons as they threw money into her cage. She gathered it up appreciatively and allowed them to kiss her hands as they passed more bills into her palms. Once she had finally collected all she could in her hands, shorts, shoes and bra she rose as Kevin opened the door of the cage and created a path for her to get back to her dressing room.

Her eyes sought Sebastian who was still clapping approvingly and smirking as he did so. Santana disappeared into the dressing room and found her small black money tin. She undid it with the key she wore around her neck and emptied her monies into the box before locking it again. Kevin stood in the doorway and grunted,

"Good job tonight Santana. One of your best. See you again tomorrow."

She rolled her eyes as he slunk away to torture another of the girls. She had been good tonight and she knew it. And she would be getting her prize for it.

"I got you a drink," said Sebastian as she approached him at the bar. "I figured a strong, independent New York girl like you would be a Cosmo."

He pushed the pink cocktail towards her and she poured it down her throat, licking her lips enthusiastically.

"Actually, I'm more of a Sex on the Beach girl, but I'm not complaining." Santana shrugged, smirking as she continued to sip at the drink in front of her.

Sebastian raised his eyebrows and the corner of his mouth turned up, as he watched her lips purse around the glass and slightly stain with the pink colouring. As she finished the cocktail he signalled to the bartender and offered,

"Another? Or will it be a Sex on the Beach this time."

"Actually," replied Santana, putting her head on one side and fingering the key around her neck, "I've got a bottle of vodka in my dressing room."

She blinked at him, waiting and watching as his mouth formed a small 'o'. She bit her lip enticingly and he finished his drink in one swift gulp.

He pursued Santana into the back room; the low lighting and flickering bulbs giving the room an element of dark and enticing indecency. He stood by the door as she fished out the bottle from underneath the vanity table. She grinned smugly at him over her shoulder as she trickled the clear, hot liquid into her mouth.

"Want some?" offered Santana, raising the bottle to him, her hip cocked to one side.

"Always," murmured Sebastian, looking her deep in the eye and running his eyes over her body.

She strutted towards him and pushed her body up against his as she leaned across him to lock the door with a click. She felt his body sink into hers as he wound a hand around her waist and held her close to him by her lower back. Santana took another swig from the bottle and raised it to Sebastian's lips pouring it into his open mouth. They remained that way, staring at each other, green eyes locked on brown, vodka moving from plush, pouting red lips to thin, pink ones.

Then, when the bottle was finally empty, they stared one moment more before Sebastian was pushing his mouth onto Santana's. She dropped the bottle to the floor, the glass crashing onto the dirty carpet and she wound her arms around his neck. His fierce, deep kiss tasted like vodka and fire as he ran his hands through her hair and sighed into her mouth. She pushed him fiercely up against the door and felt his body move with hers. She bit his lip hungrily and he moaned against her lips.

Santana scraped at Sebastian's neck, the baby hairs at the nape tingling with electricity. She continued to devour him with passionate, lustful kisses. He ran his hands down her body, over her bejewelled bustier and into her fishnet tights. He sank down and kissed her neck and her chest, lifting her into the air and returning his mouth to hers. She wound her legs around his waist and he propelled them towards the vanity table, dropping her roughly onto the hard, wooden surface.

He fumbled with the small buttons on her shorts, before dragging them down her long tanned legs and taking the thin tights with them. Sebastian swayed slightly, from the minor daze the alcohol had given him and from the sight in front of him of Santana Lopez, hot and heavy, her breathing uneven and ragged as she waited for him. She pulled her head up to look him in the eye and smirked, dragging him towards her by his belt buckle which she wrestled with before releasing him.

Sebastian forced his mouth onto hers once more, closing the gap between their bodies with heated touch that flowed from his core throughout both of their bodies, aching for the contact, repeated over and over again, slamming and crashing together like cogs in a well-practised machine finally finding a rhythm with which to move.

Santana's rough breathing intensified peppered with short, sharp gasps of pleasure with every push whilst Sebastian bit his lip so hard a small trickle of blood dotted his lips. He closed his eyes and swallowed, climbing higher and higher, dancing their wicked and sordid tango which would have fit well within the cages outside, if only it had been for decent eyes.

And suddenly, with a mutual cry, it was over.

Sebastian pulled back, his usually well-quaffed hair in a sweaty mess, mussed across his forehead. He grinned, a noise coming out of his mouth, somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. He ran his eyes over Santana again, her flushed cheeks and tangled hair as she panted, trying to regain her breath, her eyes closed blissfully, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.

Her eyes fluttered open and she smirked at the boy in front of her. She licked her lips and reclined regally on the vanity table. Sebastian climbed up onto the table and straddled her waist. She opened her eyes to see him looming above her. The light from the half flickering bulbs behind her created a halo effect around her body, making her seem more powerful and beautiful than before.

"This was fun," murmured Sebastian, smirking down at Santana. "We should definitely do it again some time."

He pressed a hot, fierce kiss against her mouth and slid off the table. He scrawled his number onto a restaurant business card he found in his back pocket, with an eyeliner pencil that was rolling around on the vanity.

"If you don't call me, I know where you work." Sebastian winked and unlocked the door, letting himself out and disappearing into the crowds.

Santana pulled herself up and lifted the card from the table. She let out the half laugh/half sigh and pursed her lips, smiling to herself.

After a shorter – but still long – train ride out into Bushwick, on an empty train with no men leering or couples to scowl at disdainfully, Santana finally arrived at her apartment. She pushed open the door, expecting it to be silent and dark and all to be sleeping.

But a light was on and Rachel was reading on the couch. She looked up as Santana entered and gave her half a wave.

"How was work?" asked Rachel, peering over a copy of Les Misérables.

Santana smirked to herself, fingering the business card in her coat pocket, her money tin swinging at her side.

"It was great thanks," she replied and she sashayed into her bedroom, the smell of vodka, sweat and Sebastian's cologne lingering on her skin.

Who needed a relationship with all the troubles it brought, when she had a good lay in her back pocket?

Hope you enjoyed - reviews are welcomed and encouraged!