What would you W*I*S*H for? -Jared-

[idreamofgenie]

OUTFIT OF NOT MUCH

She had been directed to go into the back room to change, by a scantily clad blond who apparently worked there. Luckily, Ziva was somewhat prepared for this. She removed the excess accessories she had styled herself in that day, as well as the cornflower blue blouse and short, leaving her only in the bowed black bra and black lace panties.

Checking herself in the mirror, she wanted to make sure there was not a flaw on her body. Her coppery frame was slight, but free of blemishes. Despite having a child she was fit and toned, having never lost her passion for dance, even during the four years with David. Her rich, dark, hair fell down her back, and her eyes were enhanced by proper make up application. But it was light, almost natural. Despite the fact that she was in fact applying to a strip club, Ziva didn't want to look trampy.

Wrapping a satin robe around her body, she tied the sash snugly around her waist, and headed back to the bosses office.

He couldn't be that bad.

He ran a tight ship.

His staff was, thus far, friendly.

No bad comments, no this or that. In fact, the word on the street (or on the floor, technically), was that he was engaged. Which meant that she would be minus dealing with a lecherous grab ass player. Strictly professional, which was what she wanted. In fact, if Ziva could be minus a stressed out, fucked up, relationship of any sort... that would be great.

Knocking on the door, she shook out her hair a bit. Yes, smile brightly, not too big, let the personality shine through. Djinn whispered into her ear encouragingly. 'You'll do great kid.' With a small wiggle of his nose, Djinn looked at the doorknob, which clicked open, much to Ziva's horror. How would that look? Her barging into the office? Shit.

Peeking in, suddenly shy, Ziva saw the man that could be her boss if she played her cards right. "I'm sorry... It kind of popped open."

[theo22]

Jared's life was a wreck. It was a complete and total mess and work seemed to add to the mayhem. The weight of the wedding, baby, and Sahara were riding on his shoulders and he had lost a few strippers. Today was auditions for a few girls and the last few days were not much for Jared to work with like at all. He needed a girl that would take the stage and demand the audience's attention the whole show, but Jared hadn't seen that and he doubted he'd see it anytime soon.

He was working on paper work regarding bills when he heard the knocking. Before he could speak, his door was creaking open, and the face of a gorgeous girl. She was young and quite sexy...Wait, no no... He cleared his thoughts before speaking, "Ziva, right?" He asked as he looked for her file. "So, is it normal for you to just barge in?" Jared being a bit rude, but he had a right to be or thought he did. He rubbed his temple a bit, before getting up from his desk.

Jared opened the door completely before pointing towards the stage. "Did you bring music?" Jared's question was a bit rhetorical, but a few girls before asked if they needed to have a routine and music.

[idreamofgenie]

Ziva wasn't sure what she was expecting to be sitting behind the desk. But it wasn't this. When she pictured a New York strip club owner, the image had ranged from a bespectacled and balding creeper to a deeply spoken pimp like figure. This man seemed... normal. Good looking, sure. But normal. Ziva nodded as he asked her name, and took the note of irritation. The urge to scowl at Djinn was overwhelming, but she resisted. She kept her cool. "Well, you know, one has to make an entrance." She replied sarcastically. There was a nagging voice in the back of her head, and no not Djinn, was telling her that perhaps, that maybe, that just maybe, being cheeky with her maybe-boss wasn't a great idea. Perhaps, not the best first impression. Or, maybe, the best first impression she could make.

Who knows, right?

He was quickly on his feet, directing her to a stage where she could preform her audition. Hell, he was pushy. Quickly, she grabbed his hand, shaking it firmly, making direct, confident, eye contact. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name. I'm Ziva Saladin. It's a pleasure to meet you." There was an air of mischief to her, instead of a brown nosing gush. Her grin said that she was bold, her grin said she was daring, her grin said that she meant business.

At the inquiry of music, Ziva's eyes widened. Shit. She had known she had forgotten something. "Music... Oh, I-" Over in the DJ's booth, the sound of Pachelbel playing in the club. Looking up, Ziva saw Djinn giving her an encouraging thumbs up from behind the dazed looking disc jockey. "I- I do have music." She recovered, pointing up to the noise filling the room. Sometimes it was good to have ones own personal genie. "I hope you don't mind the curious music selection. I know it's a bit unorthodox, but I promise: If nothing else, you'll find it interesting."

Climbing up the stage, Ziva stretched out her legs to a point, limbering up. Ignoring the butterflies filling her stomach, she looked directly at her surly maybe-boss, linking eye contact as she removed the satin robe from her frame. Despite the current lack of cloths, Ziva was too filled with adrenaline laced anticipation to feel vulnerable. "When you are ready..." She said, motion the music to be stopped and restarted on her que. Of course, had the poor disc jockey not been Djinn's current temporary puppet, these motions may have been meaningless. Luckily, due to her and Djinn's connection, this was not the case.

Returning to her eye contact with her maybe-boss, she waited by the pole for his go ahead. Because, and of this Ziva was positive, he wouldn't want to miss this.

It might not ballet.

But Ziva was going to show him art.

[theo22]

Jared quirked a brow and would have smiled if today hadn’t been so wretched already. He simply huffed a half chuckle/ half scoff. She had sarcasm towards the man that could just possibly make her dance, go through an interview, then wait a week before telling her to ‘Get The Fuck Out,’ but Jared was generous and she was pretty. Then as he trying to walk her towards the stage, she greeted him as if he was a CEO of some company and she was looking to score the dream job. He returned the handshake, “Jared. Jared Carson.” His voice was smooth and collected, but his eyes were analyzing almost everything about this girl. Something about her, aside from her looks, made Jared just like her, sort of like magic. You know, the prospect of a potential new friend leaves you feeling a bit more full on the inside, well he was feeling that feeling.

However, his professional side came rearing it’s ugly head and he snapped at Ziva about her music. She seemed like she had just been asked if she had murdered anyone in the past twenty-four hours. Jared was about to scold her for a bit, when he heard Pachelbel playing. Immediately, his interest was peaked and he gestured her to get on the stage. “I imagine so.” Jared stated as he sat down in the booth across the room from the stage. The lights went off except over his booth, “Light color preference?” He called out to her. The girls were given only the outfits and then they produced their routine from moves to lighting. Jared leaned forward a bit, almost nervous to see her dance. “Impress me.” He stated while his mind pictured her in a full house.

[idreamofgenie]

Yo! Ziva's moves, Bro.

"White is fine." Ziva replied coolly, stretching a little. The pole didn't look quite so intimidating anymore, as her confidence grew. She didn't need any sort of color, not for the audition. Sure, when she got out there, if she got out there, and was entertaining men, she would surely indulge in a bit of theatrics. But right now, at this moment, she was here to impress on skill alone.

Feeling limbered, Ziva gave a focused nod at the DJ booth, as her hand wrapped around the cool bar, and a deep breath escaped her. As Pachebel's Canon in D Major began to fill the club, Ziva gracefully began to do a sort of pirouette around the pole. Centripetal force was on her side, as she managed to twirl in an almost weightless way. Her mind thought of incense smoke. Of course, this was for the eyes of men, so Ziva was sure to add a little sex appeal. Her thumb tugging teasingly at her panties, the intensely smoldering eye contact she would make with her audience (much easier, when it was an audience of one).

Slinking lightly to the floor, her hand still on the pole as she slid down, her long creamed coffee legs separated into an impressive set of splits. Her arms could not help the instinctive billowing that years of ballet drilled into you. Be light, be pretty, be ethereal. These were ground into your mind with a large, metaphorical, cinder-block from the age of three.

Ziva's near black hair swayed as she moved, a coy grin crossing her lip, as her left foot slid up the pole, and her right stayed firmly on the floor. Did he find vertical splits to be 'wow worthy'? The tongue and cheek thought made her grin become more mischievous, the impish sparkle glinting in her crisp blue eyes. Back arching backwards, she wrapped her left leg around the pole, returning to the spinning. It was lucky that she was not easily made dizzy.

Then came some acrobatics. It was much easier on this pole, than the wobbly one she had at home. Of course, it was only wobbly because it was cheap. Again, centripetal force was on her side. But Ziva was also strong, though she may appear to be otherwise. Her body hid muscle definition like a well kept secret. And so, she appeared soft and fragile.

The rest was repetition, with small twists here and there to keep it interesting. Pole adapted pirouettes and acrobatics, various impressive feats of flexibility, a continuation of the weightless illusion. And when it was over, she gave a final pose, and one final sensual look, before that Ziva vanished and professional Ziva returned. The music was over, and she waited, standing straight, confident in her performance.

"So," She spoke, her voice light and casual, with only an undertone of how serious she was actually taking this. "Did I impress you then?"

[theo22]

Jared nodded slightly and signaled for the spotlight. When it came on and lit the stage, Jared smiled a bit. He loved this. Aside from the girls being in their skivvies and dancing one a pole for him to watch, he also had those few girls that looked like they loved making their dances a form of art. He could tell immediately which girls were in it for the money and which girls had enjoyment from the idea of making their dance an artwork. This girl looked like she was there to make Jared scoot to the edge of his seat in amazement.

Then she started her routine. It was so eloquent, sophisticated, and purely art in the form of dancing on a pole. She was marvelous the way she used Centripetal force to her advantage. She was doing gravity defying moves that Jared had never seen before..well in person. This girl was good... no she was great. Her performance was flawless to the T. He would had clapped, but there were things to be said, especially after her little comment. "Ziva. Good Show, but if you must ask if I was impressed then you have doubt about your performance." Jared stated bluntly before continuing, "I understand that you were showing off your skill, but it is far easier to accomplish difficult moves to a slower pace. Can you, if you get hired, do those stunts , but to a faster pace?" His voice scrutinizing. He approached the stage and leaned casually on it , while watching Ziva.

[idreamofgenie]

Yo! Check out this wicked awesome tune that Ziva is dancing too, Homez.

To be honest, she had been confident in her performance, as far as her taste went. But, taste was a fickle thing. Her tastes could very well not be her tastes in the slightest. All the same, through his mask of indifference, Ziva had a feeling that he was at least a tiny bit pleased in finding her. Not that she was one to gloat, but talent she had. This was not vanity or pride, but fact. Still, the comment of the pace of her movements was a fair one. She'd be hard-pressed to find an average joe looking to listen to Pachelbel.

As he approached the stage, Ziva knelt down to the face him. Eye contact, it was something Ziva herself had never really shied away from. "Ah, so... you are wanting more sexy then." She thought for a moment, knowing deep down she had nothing really prepared. "I do not really have a faster paced dance organized, exactly." Dammit, she should have prepared more than one. Ziva had gotten cocky. "But, you will find that I am quite good at improvising."

Standing back up to her full height, Ziva re-approached the pole. At that moment, she was almost meditating. Sexy, sensual. Ziva could do that, no problem. She had this. Ziva had the look, the skills, and the drive. And, even if he would not admit it, she had her maybe-probably-bosses attention. Nodding, her moment of thought collection was over, and she looked up at the Disc Jockey booth as if familiar. "Surprise me!" Ziva smiled, her mischievous grin curling on her cheek, the dimple showing through.

The music started, with a fast and steady beat, and an almost cliche retro pop to it. Now, when she asked for a surprised, she had expected something a bit more... typical. The words moved so fast in this song, one had to be quick to do little cues here and there. To make it a show, instead of just future chicken choking material. Ziva took only a second to get acquainted with the beat and rhythm, falling into the music easily. Freestyle, improve. It had been frown upon in her ballet school, but when Ziva was alone and practicing, she would indulge. Thus, her body moved with an easy wave and flexibility, as it was not foreign to her body.

And subtle changes were made, as she moved. The obvious was that she moved faster, though the movements themselves were similar to before. There was more of a grind to the movements now, to assist the generally limited imagination of male viewers. Her face had been quite sobered in the first dance, but here Ziva wore a flirtatious, near bubbly grin. Again, centripetal force was on her side, as she rotated easily around the bar. As she moved, beads of sweat began to form on her caramel skin, adding an almost seductive sheen. Yes, her movements were easy, but the technique was rather complicated. The pirouettes around the pole, the fluttering movements, her seemingly weightless body. It was not her enemy, and Ziva was not averse to using it to her advantage. Slinking her frame down it gently, a coquettish wink at Mr. Carson, her grin wide.

Honestly, no one back home would have believed it.

The song died down, and Ziva slipped into a graceful set of splits, her face pointed up at the ceiling, and long dark hair spilling down her back. Her heart raced, her breathing was quick, and Ziva felt so... ALIVE. Looking back down at the man she was sure was going to become her boss, Ziva grinned. It was no longer professional and worried about making a good impression. Honestly, there was nothing more that she could do, that had not already been done. So, from here on out, it was in Mr. Carson's hands. Her legs folded against each other, off to the side, as she waited for his critique. "I think that was sufficient, as far as speed, yes? Though, the music could have lacked a certain sensuality. If you want, I can try again." He wanted her to have pride and assurance in her performance? Fine. She could do that. No problemo. Smirking, Ziva did not avert her eyes as she spoke. "I have a great deal of stamina, Mr. Carson."