"Aren't you just the busy little beaver tonight," Scotty commented in his snarky tone while he grabbed empties off of Abby's tray.

"I think the birthday table is in competition over who can throw up the prettiest colors tonight," she replied tiredly. Crossing her arms on the bar, she rested her head for a moment. The throbbing in her feet started to resonate in her head and the constant giggle fest wasn't helping.

"Awe to be 21 again," Scotty said wistfully as he started whipping up another batch of different daiquiris and other umbrellaed concoctions.

Abby rolled her eyes and snorted. "You're only 25 Scotty."

"Don't remind me," he sighed dramatically.

"We better have Trevor start lining up taxis outside," she mumbled into the crook of her arm, far too tired to pet his self-esteem tonight.

"You rang?" A thick muscled arm reached across the bar in front of her and Abby made eye contact with the scantily clad pinup girl straddling a bomb which was tattooed on Trevor's forearm.

"We didn't ring the damn dinner bell you barbarian!" Scotty shrieked as he slapped at him. "Get your hairy palms out of my garnish trays!"

Pulling his arm back with a handful of maraschino cherries, Trevor draped his cherry free arm over her shoulders, bent down and winked at her while he popped the fruit into his mouth. "Don't get your pantyhose in a wad," he replied in his deep tenor at Scotty's continued squawking.

"Goes to show what you know," the bartender sniffed indignantly. "No self-respecting woman wears pantyhose."

"You're not a woman."

"Oh honey, bless your heart. I'm more of a woman than your momma ever was." And with that, Scotty placed the rest of Abby's fancy drinks on her tray and huffed off to the other end of the bar.

"Can you believe that guy," Trevor chuckled as he chewed on another cherry.

Abby rose up and smiled at the huge bouncer. The man was gigantic with a body a professional wrestler would envy. Mix that up with his dark buzz cut hair and sparkling hazel eyes and you had a combination that women drooled over. Hell, to be honest, half the men who worked here were jonesing after him too. Well, him or his brother Jack. They were twins after all. Double the looks and double the trouble, but she loved them both dearly. They were like the big brothers she never had. Really...big...brothers. "I'm not standing up for you, it's your own fault. You make it a mission to push his buttons because you enjoy ruffling his feathers."

"Yeah, I do. Although, I think you mean ruffling his feathered boa." He laughed popping another cherry into his mouth. Abby jabbed him in the ribs with her fist and only ended up with sore knuckles for her effort. Seriously, it was like punching a suit of armor. Trevor only beamed wider and popped more cherries into his mouth. "What were you needing kitten?" he asked as he worked the stems out and tossed them on the bar.

"I think you need to start calling some taxis for my birthday girls."

"Yeah, I figured." He looked over at the table and rolled his eyes as another burst of cackling commenced. "Jack's already working on it." Another stem was added to the growing pile. "We cutting them off anytime soon?"

"I told them this was their last round," she said indicating the rainbow array of alcoholic beverages.

Nodding his head, he cocked it to one side and set his hazel peepers on her. A full no nonsense attitude focused straight at her. "Everything else alright?"

"Jim dandy."

He narrowed his gaze at her. "You sure? Looked like those suits might have been giving you a hard time earlier."

"Nothing I can't handle," she assured him. Abby wasn't willing to admit they made her nervous. If she said anything, undoubtedly the two would be escorted out in a heartbeat and not gently either. Trevor and Jack took their jobs extremely seriously and technically the suits hadn't done much more than make innuendos. The whole blackmailing scheming was none of her business, though it set her on edge. Really it was her own paranoia and anxiety issues that were the problem. Unfortunately, the constant feeling of being watched didn't calm her twitchy frame of mind. The older suit's eyes followed her around the club. Every agonizing step was monitored by his steady surveillance. It was nerve wrecking and it freaked her out. Taking a deep breath, she set her shoulders powering mentally through the dread that was trying to take over. "They're your typical suits," she said much more light heartedly than she felt, not sure if she was reassuring him or herself.

Tossing the last of the cherries into his mouth, he chewed slowly as he searched her face for any trace she was anything other than fine. "Okay, but you holler if you need anything," he warned tapping the tip of her nose with his beefy finger. "You hear me?"

Who said she couldn't act? Oh yeah, that would have been her ninth grade teacher, Mrs. Wiggam, who not so delicately told her that she possessed the acting skills of a rock. With the stuff she was pulling tonight she deserved an Oscar. Abby gave him a playful salute. "Aye, aye captain."

"I mean it kitten." Giving her a quick hug, he turned his head in the direction Scotty bustled off to. "Hey, Scotty!" he bellowed. "Clean up on aisle six!" Winking at her, he tossed the last of the stems on his little pile and sauntered off to patrol the room.

Scotty gaped in disgust at the debris left on his spotless bar top. "He is such a pig!" he complained. "I keep telling Mike we can replace both of them with a couple of trained chimps."

"But then you'd have to worry about your bananas," Abby laughed as she hoisted her tray and started off towards twittering women.

"Everybody's a damn comedian tonight," he grumbled picking up the trash can and swiping the discarded stems into it with a flick of his rag.

After reaffirming that this was their last call and easing over any hard feelings by offering them taxis, Abby turned away from the birthday table and was about to take off in the direction of another group, when somebody reached out and snatched her arm squeezing tightly. Yelping at the pain and shock, she roughly jerked, ripping her arm free. She knew immediately by the flinty pinkie ring who had grabbed her. "Don't touch me!" she hissed.

Bruce smiled coldly; his hand still hanging in the air as if he was debating trying it again. Stepping back she put more distance between them. "Well now....it seems you do have some spit and fire in you after all. I like that, I like that a lot," he purred regarding her with a new glint to his eyes.

"Touch her or any member of the staff again and you'll be pulling back a mangled stump." Trevor bent low and put his face directly in the line of vision so the suit couldn't miss the truth behind the statement. "And wouldn't that be a real downer for your next date night with yourself."

Abby had no idea where Trevor had come from, but she was sure as shit grateful he appeared. It was hard to tell if he'd overheard the comment the man had made, but she did. Not only did she hear him clear as day, but she also knew what the little extra twinkle in his eye was all about and her legs started to tremble. A flood gate of unwanted memories and emotions started to deluge into her brain.

Panic made her sight fizzle and the room began to spin. Breathing grew more difficult and she began to pant. Her palms tingled becoming slick with sweat and she could feel beads of it forming on her forehead. Her stomach made a nauseating roll and she swallowed hard. The urge to run pulsed along her spine and she fought the overwhelming urge. NO! She shouted to herself slamming her eyes shut. It's not him! It's not him! It's NOT him! Over and over she repeated the mantra. Using the steps she'd learned from a pamphlet at a free clinic, she started to struggle to regain control.

It's just anxiety. It'll pass. It doesn't rule me. It's outside of me and I'm letting it go. As she repeated the steps under her breath, she sucked in cleansing air concentrating hard on breathing right down to the bottom of her lungs and then letting out through her nose slow and steady. Everything is fine. I am normal, she thought. I'm at work. There is nothing here to be scared of. Abby took a few more deep breaths and then reopened her eyes.

The room wasn't acting like a tilt-a-whirl, the buzzing in her ears passed and everything came back on-line. A last shudder of adrenaline passed through her body before the exhaustion came knocking. It was always the same after an episode, she felt drained from the intensity as if she'd run a marathon full bore, but this was neither the time nor place. Looking quickly around she gauged nobody noticed her near melt down. Sighing in relief, she locked her knees, pulled herself up to her full height, which was much more impressive in the damn boots, and tried to portray to the entire world there wasn't a damn thing wrong and she wasn't the tiniest bit intimidated. Focusing back on the heated conversation in front of her, she lifted her chin in defiance. Show no weakness was her new motto.

"You need to back off Paul Blart." A round of, oh no you didn't, echoed in the back of her brain as she felt her jaw drop open. Nobody could be stupid enough to talk to someone the size of Trevor that way, surely. As if to prove her theory wrong, the suit reached up and pushed the bouncer in the chest to remove him from his personal space, but it would have taken a bulldozer to remove the wall of muscle currently glaring him down. When that failed, he took the initiative and stepped a few paces back, straightening his tie. Maybe he wasn't as dumb as she thought.

Turning her attention away from the scene unfolding in front of her, she glanced over at the weasel who was sitting ramrod straight and unmoving in his chair thanks to Jack's burly hand squeezing his shoulder. The poor fellow looked like he was about to have an accident. Good thing his suit was brown. "It's all a misunderstanding," Bruce's schmoozing voice brought her back front and center. He waved a hand dismissively. "I simply wanted to get her attention so that I could send a congratulatory round to the birthday girl." He gave Trevor one of his patented sneering smiles.

"Is that why my girl is sporting a bruise on her arm?" Trevor growled. Looking down she absently rubbed the sore spot that was indeed starting to change colors before her eyes. She hadn't even noticed.

"She did it to herself by over reacting."

"Cut the crap!" Trevor angrily slashed the air in-between them. Catching the breeze from the gesture, the suit smartly took another step back. "I've been watching you and your little buddy all night and I think it's time for you to leave." Pulling himself up to his impressive height, Trevor crossed his massive arms over his barrel chest and narrowed his eyes at the indignant man. "You can walk out of here on your own, or I can assist you." Leaning over, he gave him an evil grin. "Between you and me, I really hope you choose assistance."

"Lay one finger on me and I'll own your ass, your bosses ass and have your mommy begging on her knees." The suit took a step closer, but paused momentarily when he got a gander at the thunderous expression on the bouncer's face. The man has a death wish, Abby thought to herself. She hoped he'd made peace with his maker, because he was about to meet him.

"Is that a threat?" Trevor murmured quietly closing the distance and bumping his chest into the man's face. The muscle above his eye twitched madly. Abby started forward to put a stop to all this, but one look from Trevor and she stepped quietly back. At least she could say she tried, it's not like the man didn't have it coming to him.

"It's not a threat, asshole," Bruce said, but his voice cracked and lost a lot of the bravado it was sporting earlier. Clearing his throat, "I want to speak with whoever is in charge of this dump," he demanded stepping back bumping into the table. His hand shook as he grabbed the edge.

"That would be me," Mike responded. Abby whipped her head around to see Mike walking up to the table, the scowl on his face making him appear formidable and showing he was not pleased. Gone was the handsome look from earlier and in its place was a whole lot of pissed off. "What seems to be the problem?" he asked, but before the suit could answer he held up his hand. "Keep in mind that this, what did you call it?"

"Dump," Trevor supplied with a growl.

"Oh yes, dump. I would like to bring to your attention that this dump has a state of the art security system." He pointed up to one of the many tinted bubbles that decorated the ceiling. "So before you start pulling accusations out of your ass, coglione, keep that in mind." Mike's Italian accent got thicker when he was angry and he sounded like a mob boss.

"I've never been so..." Flashes started to strobe light around the suit efficiently cutting him off.

"I'm so gonna hashtag this as asshole gets beat down!"

"I'm going to Instagram mine to major hotties!" More flashes and giggling ensued. Abby groaned, the birthday girls decided to join the party.

"Are you going to whip his ass?" One of the blonds asked. "You should! He offered me twenty bucks to show him my tits!" she slurred pointing to the weasel.

"As if!" One of them huffed, the rest of agreeing in varying forms of totally and seriously.

"I know, right!" The blond agreed shaking her head like a bobble doll. Her eyes darted between Trevor and Jack; a mischievous smile appeared on her overly frosted lips. "But I'd show you my tits for free," she drunkenly cooed to Trevor, lifting up the edges of her tank top.

"Whoa! Nope, let's keep that down shall we." Steph came flying in for the rescue, quickly grabbing the girls top and jerking it down. "We are all out of Jerry beads for tonight."

"Jerry! Jerry! Jerry!" The girls shouted jumping up and down fist pumping the air. Steph rolled her eyes heavenward and started trying to herd them towards the exit. Success was in her grasp, until the lights on the stage blazed. Pyrotechnics erupted in a curtain of cascading lights and out stomped Britney in a ridiculously tiny school girl outfit followed by her back up dancers as the beginning of the yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah part of 'Oops I Did it Again' came pulsing out of the speakers. "Britney! Britney! Britney!," the group screamed clambering up to the stage dragging a less than amused Steph with them.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story. I hope to have updates every other week, so keep coming back for more.

Any comments you may have will be greatly appreciated. It helps me to see how you are responding to the story and encourages me to keep going. Also, any critiques are helpful!

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