Chapter Text
“Great work today, ladies! Always remember that no one is allowed to touch you without your consent, regardless of how much they pay you. Oh, before I forget, reminder that if there’s anything you want added as a discussion point in next month’s agenda, please make sure to tell Wanda before you go get ready for your shift so she can make note of it in today’s minutes. Meeting adjourned,” Agatha closed out, clapping her hands together once to signal that today’s proceedings had officially ended.
The horde of beautiful, recently-empowered women got up from their folding chairs, placed them against the rack on the back wall behind the stage and moved in a pack to the dressing rooms to start getting ready for their shifts. Contrary to public opinion, dancers don’t wear lingerie and eight inch stilettos in their day-to-day lives so getting into their club characters takes quite a bit of prep work. In fact, most strippers Agatha knew were pretty low key in their non-club appearance—preferring athleisure or cute matching sweat sets to anything particularly revealing.
Pushing her oversized, wire-framed glasses up into her hair like a headband and sighing heavily, Agatha sunk down onto the edge of the stage, all of the adrenaline from the monthly union meeting bleeding out of her at once. She loves her job, she really does, but wrangling a room of twenty women and trying to convince them not to speak over one another while discussing serious topics like healthcare, labor protections, and decriminalization was a fruitless endeavor. Strippers are not known for being “shut up and take it” kind of women, and the crew at The Darkhold was no exception.
When Agatha first approached the girls about forming a union back in 2024, it took her a long time to win the trust of her fellow dancers. While she was not actively stripping anymore, she spent many years in the scene and was intimately familiar with the struggles that the dancers, as well as other adult entertainment workers faced, especially in terms of harassment, exploitation, and financial instability. As a labor organizer, it’s her job to work her understanding of the system to see the power at play keeping these women down and then use collective action to disrupt it to directly benefit the workers.
Her mind was going a million miles a minute thinking of everything she didn’t get a chance to bring up during today’s meeting when a familiar flash of scarlet hair moved in her periphery and sat down at her side.
“Other than Dottie wanting to add a discussion point about if g-strings are considered full bottoms, it seems like we’re all set for a normal agenda next month,” Wanda explained with a chuckle, snapping her red notebook closed and turning to face her friend. “You alright, Ags?”
“Yeah, I’m good, just tired. There’s so much going on right now between the CBA negotiations and the upcoming protest, I just feel like I can’t catch my breath. But we keep moving forward—you and these girls deserve the best and I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you get it.”
“I know you will, babe, we all do. And we’re so grateful that you’re here helping us. Just make sure you’re not burning yourself out, okay hun?” Wanda pleaded lightly, urging her friend to practice a bit more self care.
It was then that the side door opened, letting a bright beam of sunlight crack into the otherwise dim space.
“Club opens at 7, can’t you read?” Agatha barked at the suited figure making their way into the club.
“I can read just fine, thank you,” the woman replied, taking off her sunglasses and slipping them into the front pocket of her blazer. “I’m looking for a…” she looks down at the clipboard in her hand, “Victor Doom?”
Agatha scoffed and rolled her eyes making her disdain for the sketchy club owner well known.
“Doom? Yeah, you’re not gonna see that dickhead while the sun’s still up. He doesn’t usually show face until well after midnight. He likes everyone to have a nice buzz going so no one notices how utterly repulsive he is,” the organizer spits with disdain.
“Understood,” the other woman replied curtly.
She was gorgeous and Agatha couldn’t help herself from giving her an obvious up-down, her tongue coming out subtly to wet her lips. The suit she wore was tailored to perfection, highlighting her naturally-toned physique, though it was clear that her musculature was not only for show. She carried herself like someone who knew her own strength and wasn’t afraid to use it. Agatha likes that trait in a woman, especially when they’re presented to her like this on a silver platter.
“What do you want with Doom anyway?”
“My name is Rio Vidal. I work for the City as a Licensing and Regulatory Enforcement Officer. We’ve gotten a few anonymous tips recently that the Darkhold is not up to code, so I’m here to perform an unannounced inspection. Standard procedure, I’m sure you understand Miss…” Rio hesitated, waiting for Agatha to fill in the blanks with her name.
“Harkness. Agatha Harkness. I represent the Darkhold Dancers Union, which is part of AEA. You just caught us wrapping up our monthly union meeting. The girls just went back into the dressing room to get ready for tonight, but we have about an hour before the doors open. Will that be enough time to complete your inspection, Miss Vidal?” she husked, suggestively.
“An inspection of a club this size usually takes two to three hours. Assuming there are no major violations that lead to a more substantial shut down, the club is going to need to have a delayed opening tonight,” she stated plainly.
“What? You can’t do that!” Agatha growled. “These women depend on the money they make working the floor of this club. Losing two hours for something that isn’t their fault could be the difference between making or not making rent this month. Do you want that on your conscience, Miss Vidal?”
The officer’s expression didn’t change. It’s not that she doesn’t have empathy for the situation the workers get put in when she goes in to conduct her inspections, but they are a necessary part of keeping not only the public, but those same workers safe in the club environment.
“I understand your concern, Miss Harkness, however city policy dictates that it is within my rights to conduct a thorough inspection during off-hours when the club does not have any patrons so I may complete my investigation unimpeded. Please let the workers know about the potential delayed opening,” she delegates calmly.
Agatha simply stares at Rio, unwilling to move on from this conversation without some kind of compromise. Rio remained stone-faced and unmoving, seemingly immune to Agatha’s charms, however the organizer is pretty sure she’s never seen a straight woman wear a suit tailored so specifically to show off her muscles before, so she makes a big bet on Rio being gay and tries to curry favor the old fashioned way—using her sexuality.
“Are you sure there’s no way we can resolve this ourselves like big girls?” she pouts, exaggeratingly sticking out her lower lip and making sad puppy eyes at the smoking hot city official standing across from her.
“I don’t see what you mean, ma’am. You’re not even an employee of the club,” Rio replies, clearly trying to follow Agatha’s train of thought, however her eyes keep getting drawn down towards her pouting lips.
Bingo, Agatha thinks to herself.
“I’m not an employee anymore. Ex-dancer, hun. Can’t you tell from my legs?” Agatha husks as she kicks one of her legs up and over her head, showing off her flexibility.
Rio swallows hard and steels her gaze. She wasn’t expecting such a blatant display of flirtation while on the clock. “I’m not here to size up ex-club employees, Miss Harkness. I’m here to do my job,” she choked out, fighting for her life not to look down at Agatha’s long legs.
“C’mon handsome. Why don’t you just come back tomorrow a little earlier in the day and we’ll try this again. I’ll even try to get Doom to show his stupid ugly mug so you can take it out on him. Huh, what do you say, stud?” Agatha purred in the best bedroom voice she could muster, sauntering slowly over to where Rio stood with her arms crossed in front of her chest.
She reached out and lightly grabbed one of the lapels of the suit, running her thumb up and down the well-tailored fabric. She tilted her pelvis forward so her hips were leaning slightly into the other woman’s space, daring her to make a move or meet her in the middle.
Rio held firm resisting the temptation to pull the alluring seductress in by her hips. “This isn’t how it works, Miss Harkness. The point of an inspection is that it’s random. If I come back tomorrow, Doom will have notice and be able to cover his tracks. This is happening right now, I’m sorry. If you could please notify the workers, I’d really appreciate it.”
Agatha huffed out an indignant laugh, stepping back from the city worker with a patronizing pat to her sternum. “Yeah, no, if you're closing us down for a few hours, you’re going to need to look everyone in the eyes and tell them you’re taking money out of their pockets yourself. I’m not your little messenger, sweetheart.”
“Fine, Miss Harkness. As you wish. Can you at least go into the dressing room and ask everyone to come out here? I don’t make it a point to enter a space where women are changing without their consent,” Rio asked, taking a deep breath in through her nose in an effort to quell the frustration building.
“Ugh whatever, fine. I guess I’ll go get everyone together,” she said, rolling her eyes as she walked away.
Rio caught Agatha mumbling under her breath as she walked away, “never thought I’d see a day that a city worker in Mamdani’s New York would try to take money from the working class, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.”
“Hey! This is not my fault,” Rio barked back. “Contrary to what you might think, this inspection will ultimately protect the workers in the long run. If you want to blame someone, blame Doom. I’m on your side.”
“I always blame Doom, that’s not new,” she called over her shoulder, slipping Rio the finger. If Rio took a mental picture of how long those fingers are, well that’s her secret to keep.
After a few minutes of waiting, Agatha arrived back in the main club space followed by a crowd of women in various states of dress and make-up. Rio cleared her throat and stepped forward to address the workers.
“Hi everyone, I’m Rio Vidal with the City. I’m going to be conducting an inspection of the Darkhold, which will delay the opening tonight by probably an hour or two. I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause, but I promise that a thorough inspection to ensure this club is up to code is vital for your safety as workers. I don’t plan to inspect the dressing room—that’s your private space—so please feel free to continue getting ready for your shift. If you have any questions, I’m available. Thank you for your patience.” Rio explained the situation clearly and calmly, leaving no room for discussion.
How wrong she was. Immediately, the second she stopped talking, all of the women started whisper-shouting at the same time. Some were worried about losing money, some about losing customers who might be scared off if they thought the club was at risk of shutting down—it was pandemonium.
Wanda immediately stepped up and began providing comfort to the dancers. “Ladies, take it from me. I’ve seen plenty of inspectors come through these doors in my time. Rio here isn’t doing this to spite us. She’s probably on our side. This is just her job, so let’s stay out of her way as much as possible so she can do what she needs to do and we can open doors as quickly as possible.”
Wanda’s words helped a bit, calming down the nervous energy, but it was clear that Rio was not a welcome face in the club. Even if she were no longer the enemy, she was certainly no friend to these women at this moment.
Having seen Rio’s apathetic attempt to assuage the team’s fears, Agatha took it upon herself to put her worker’s rights hat back on for a second to make a secondary announcement that would make the women feel at least a bit better about their predicament.
“Ladies, a reminder that you are no longer contract workers. New York law states that you are entitled to an hourly wage and overtime. You all clocked in for your shifts on time so you will at least be making seventeen bucks an hour before tips for the time Rio conducts her inspection. If Doom keeps anyone here late tonight to make up for lost time, please log those hours on your timecards. If you work over 40 hours this week, you get overtime regardless of what he says. And if he refuses to pay it, he has to answer to me,” she said haughtily, flipping her long hair over her shoulder and shooting Rio a cheeky wink.
“Exactly what Miss Harkness said,” Rio echoed. “Additionally, if anyone would like to report instances of wage theft anonymously for the official inspection record, please let me know. You all are stakeholders in my investigation, not suspects, I promise.”
Rio spotted a raised hand from the back of the pack. She immediately recognized the woman to whom it belonged—Jen Kale aka @that_potions_bitch on TikTok, head bartender at Darkhold and social media influencer. She had gone super viral when clubs were closed during the pandemic for teaching her audiences how to make cheap drinks taste good, all while wearing a teeny tiny hot pink bikini.
The tall, ethereal Black woman strode forward, her large gold earrings catching the club’s dim lights as she got close to Rio’s personal space, “Yeah, so you say you’re on our side, but I don’t buy it. Where are we supposed to work when you shut us down for good?”
“No one’s shutting anyone down, Miss Kale. This is just an initial inspection to identify areas of improvement. Unless I find something that puts all of you in imminent danger, you’ll all be able to work tonight, do not worry.”
A collective exhale echoed across the room as Rio’s words sunk in with the workers. Was getting delayed a few hours annoying as hell? Yes, of course, but a bag is still a bag and the night will still be young when the doors to the Darkhold open to the cold Queens evening and there is plenty of money to be made.
Jen’s scoff was somehow louder than everyone else’s relief. “I’ll believe it when I see it, Rio. And if you mess with the order of any of the bottles in my well, I promise Agatha won’t be the biggest bitch you encounter tonight.”
She turned on her heel and strutted back to the dressing rooms in a huff. If she had any hair to toss over her shoulder, Rio’s sure she would have received a face full.
Rio shook out her shoulders, letting Jen’s words roll off of her. This wasn’t the first time she’d had workers express their frustration at a surprise inspection and it certainly wouldn’t be the last—it came with the territory of the job. She has tough skin, she can handle a little back and forth. Rio cares about her work, about making sure that workers in the adult industry receive the same standards of safety and dignity as all other businesses in the city. It is not her prerogative nor her intentions to harm anyone, she simply assesses violations and enforces the laws.
“Does anyone else have a loosely veiled threat they’d like to toss my way? No? Great. I’m going to start my inspection. I appreciate your cooperation and hope to be out of your way shortly,” Rio announced, dismissing the workers to return to their pre-shift routines.
As the women cleared out of the main hall of the club, Agatha waltzed back over to where Rio was tightening her ponytail, preparing to start conducting the necessary safety and compliance checks.
“Anyone else’s night you want to ruin before you get going, hot stuff?” Agatha teased.
“Enough, Miss Harkness. I get that it’s your job to protect these women, and that’s admirable, but you shouldn’t worry about protecting them from me. I’m not some evil force out to get them. We’re just both trying to do our jobs, okay?” Rio pleaded, already at the end of her rope.
“Jeez, I was just trying to have a little fun. God, what crawled up your ass and died?” Agatha huffed before turning and stomping off to the back with the rest of the workers.
Finally, Rio was left alone to begin, save for the single security guard posted up at the front of the club watching her warily.
“I assume we’re not going to have any problems here?” Rio called across the room.
“Nope,” the guard replied. “You’re all good. I’m here to stand watch and offer my protection. The name’s Alice, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you, Alice. I’m going to start with the health & compliance checks and then we’ll move onto safety. When it’s time, I’d love it if you could walk me through the staffing protocols and procedures when it comes to patron misbehavior.”
“Can do, officer. Lemme know when you need me and where.”
Rio responded with a curt nod, pulling on her rubber gloves as she made her way over to the bar. Luckily Darkhold didn’t serve food, so she was only required to do the requisite inspection of the bar, stage, VIP rooms, and bathrooms.
For all her drama earlier, it seems like Jen keeps her bar in tip-top shape. Everything was orderly and clearly labeled. Her garnish prep was neat and organized in sealed food storage containers and there wasn’t a single trace of spilled alcohol anywhere to be found. Rio lifted the bar mats expecting them to be damp and sticky as they often are, only to discover that they were fully dry and clean, as if they had been recently sanitized. Rio checked the required boxes on her clipboard confirming that the bar was in good shape and moved on to the main area of the club.
Moving over to the stage, the inspector pulled a tape measure out from her bag to measure the distance from the lip of the stage to the first row of seating and the height of the platform from the ground. The whole reason for the unannounced visit in the first place was that her agency had gotten an anonymous tip that Doom allows his customers to have illegal and inappropriate access to his dancers in exchange for cash under the table. Come to find out that the stage is in fact too close to the nearest row of seating, putting the dancers easily within grabbing distance if they approached the edge during their sets. Rio makes note of this discrepancy and decides to move onto the private rooms.
The VIP rooms at the Darkhold are much more intimate than those at other clubs. Instead of being small spaces fortified by only a curtain or thin wall, these rooms seem almost soundproof to Rio’s observations. No matter where she looks, she cannot find a panic button in the room anywhere. Unless Doom is the greatest interior designer of all time, that means he’s been willfully subjecting his staff to potential danger in favor of more money into his own pockets.
Rio is scribbling down all of her findings furiously as she opens the door to the VIP room and walks smack into someone coming down the hallway, her hands reaching out to steady them both.
“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you at all. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going,” Rio stammered out, feeling the embarrassment flush high in her cheeks.
Looking up from her clipboard, she made eye contact with the most piercing blue eyes she’d ever seen in her entire life. She momentarily got lost in them, failing to realize to whom those eyes belong before she registered a mean chuckle coming from low in the other person’s throat.
“Watch where you’re going, Miss Vidal. Wouldn’t want anyone to think you were putting your hands on me in the VIP rooms without my consent, now would we?” Agatha teased.
“Miss Harkness,” she breathed. “What are you doing back here?”
“The floor was completely empty. I couldn’t find you in the bathrooms or behind the stage, so I wanted to know if you’d gone home and the girls could open for the night. These rooms are so quiet, I had no idea you were even back here,” the organizer admitted.
“These rooms are weirdly quiet. Are they actually soundproof?” Rio asked, not really wanting the truth.
“Remember when I said Doom is repulsive? That picture coming in a bit more clearly now, hun?” Agatha replied with a grimace.
“Yeah, this guy seems like a scumbag.”
“There’s a reason I don’t dance anymore and it’s spelled D-O-O-M,” Agatha admitted, her voice not carrying its usual haughtiness. “After I left here, I took some pre-law classes and got my Associate’s. Learned a lot about institutional power and the way the system works against women like me, so I decided to get into union organizing to try and give back to the girls who were still stuck in this hellhole."
Rio looked at Agatha with more sympathetic eyes. She could see the hurt and the fire behind those bright, blue eyes no longer hiding behind her mask of sexuality and superiority.
“I’m with you. When my parents moved to the city from PR, they had nowhere to stay so they had to scrap for every single cent. My mom worked in the sex industry for awhile and had the most horrific stories about how she was treated as an immigrant woman of color. It’s actually why I got into this gig in the first place. I want to make sure that workers are protected and people like Doom don't profit off of exploitation like what my mom had to face.”
Agatha hummed her approval, re-cataloguing everything she thought she knew about the woman across from her.
“I may have misjudged you, Miss Vidal.”
“Please, call me Rio. Miss Vidal is so formal. I’m like everyone else in here—just a woman trying to do her job.”
“Rio,” she responded, feeling the weight of the name on her tongue. She liked how it felt.
“Hey, since you used to work here, I’m guessing you know where all of the mandatory signage is posted in this place. Mind showing it to me?” Rio asked sheepishly.
“Of course, hun. Right this way,” Agatha replied, cocking her head over her shoulder and beckoning Rio to follow behind her.
Agatha led Rio to the dimly lit backstage area where the mandatory signage was technically posted, although it was in such bad shape that the regulatory and safety information on them was almost unusable.
“Yeah, this checks out,” Rio laughs, taking out her phone to capture evidence of the barely-there compliance.
“Look, no one’s working here because of the rave reviews on Glassdoor,” Agatha’s snort answered.
The two fell into an easy rhythm after that, Agatha following Rio around for the rest of her inspection. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, Rio was happy to have Agatha’s experience to inform her findings. It seems like this Doom guy is a real piece of work and having first-hand testimony makes her own discoveries even more damning. Rio is going to greatly enjoy slapping him with a hefty fine and mandatory compliance updates that she’s sure he’s going to fight tooth and nail.
As the final step in her review, Rio called Alice over to ask about safety—arguably the most important part of the inspection.
“Alice, thank you for your cooperation. On average, how many security guards work per night?”
“We have a five-to-one ratio policy at Darkhold, which means that for every five girls that are out on the floor, there is one security guard keeping watch. We also have two bouncers at each of the club’s two entrances, but they never come inside the club unless we were to escalate into an all-hands situation.”
“And how many guards are present in the VIP space?”
“None, ma’am,” Alice stated clearly.
Rio’s jaw dropped. Agatha looked down and away, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation she knew was about to happen.
“Alice, what do you mean there’s no security in VIP?” Rio asked cautiously, completely dumbfounded.
“Darkhold policy is that VIP is a luxury experience for clients and their entertainers. All of the negotiations and transaction of money are handled out on the floor in full view of security before the sessions begin and once the cash exchanges hands, the dancer escorts the client to the room and they conduct their business privately.” Alice explained, a tinge of sadness in her voice.
“Are there cameras in the hallways or rooms? Anything to provide a bit of safety for the workers? I couldn’t find a panic button anywhere in the room I was in,” the officer admitted to the other two women.
“Doom insists that cameras would make the clients feel like they’re being exploited or scammed, so no, there aren’t any.”
Rio lets out a long exhale. She was so jacked up, she hadn’t even realized she was holding her breath while Alice was explaining. This situation was rapidly moving from regulatory compliance fine territory to something with a much more felony feel to it and her heart was pounding as each new piece of evidence was revealed.
“Is there any formal complaints or banishment process for customers who inappropriately touch staff or abuse them in any way after the fact?” Rio pushes one last time, already fearing that she knows the answer.
“No, ma’am,” Alice answers with a finality that puts the last nail in Doom’s coffin in Rio’s eyes.
Fuck. Rio turns to Agatha, who is anxiously chewing on her thumbnail, “Agatha, I can’t allow this club to keep VIP open without any cameras or security presence. It’s dangerous for the workers, you know that,” she says softly.
“I know,” she replies, sadly. “Trust me, I know,” she says, still refusing to make eye contact.
Rio didn’t want to think too hard about what that “trust me” meant right now—she had bigger things to think about. She quickly made note of all of Alice’s admissions on her official inspection record and then quietly capped her pen.
“Okay I think I have everything I need, the inspection is officially over. I’ll write up my report and come back later this week to present my official findings to Doom, but I do have to shut down VIP for the foreseeable future until additional security measures are taken and validated by my agency.”
Agatha and Alice both nodded their assent.
“I’ll let the team know. Agatha, do you mind going to grab everyone one last time while I put a padlock on the VIP entrance?”
Agatha nodded again, seemingly unable to voice her thoughts out loud where Rio could hear them. What she wouldn’t give to know what the other woman was thinking at this moment.
A few minutes later, Agatha and the team—now in full glam—gathered once again by the mainstage. An anxious din settled over the room as the staff theorized about what the outcome of Rio’s inspection could be. Rio walked over to the small crowd, taking a deep breath before clearing her throat and standing tall.
“Thank you, everyone, for your patience and understanding while I conducted my inspection. I’m happy to report that Darkhold will be able to open tonight under one condition. Unfortunately, the VIP rooms do not meet safety and compliance standards and they have been padlocked until further notice. I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause, however this decision has been made exclusively for your safety. I will be providing my findings to your leadership, as well as the mandatory updates that need to be completed in order to re-open VIP. Once those updates have been made, I’ll return for another inspection and we’ll work to get everything back up and running even better than before. Once again, thank you for your patience and if you have anything you’d like to report in confidence, please come see me and I’d be happy to give you my card with my email.”
Before the crowd could fire back in uproar, Agatha immediately stepped in, her confidence and power from earlier having returned in order to put on a brave face for her friends and comrades.
“Just know, your union fully supports you through this time. In addition to the mandate from the city, DDU and AEA will be putting full pressure on leadership to make sure these changes are implemented in a timely and efficient manner. After all, there is no business without the workers, and we’ll make sure Doom feels it if he tries anything shady. Just hold steady, ladies. Our biggest concern is keeping you safe and we’re doing everything in our power to make it right.”
The workers were still clearly pissed off, but were beginning to see that this was not a punishment. They dispersed in grumbling clumps of women whispering heatedly to themselves, sneaking glances at Agatha and Rio over their shoulders.
“This is the worst part of the gig,” Agatha confessed. “I hate that I’m not 100% with them right now.”
“You’re doing everything within your power. They see that,” Rio comforted. “Sometimes doing the right thing is really, really hard.”
“Yeah, you’re right, I guess,” Agatha concedes. “You’re not too bad, Vidal.”
“Thanks, Harkness. You’re pretty swell, yourself.”
“Aaaaaaand that ruined it,” Agatha laughed. “To think I was going to offer to give you a show in one of the private rooms before you locked them up… pity…” she trailed off suggestively.
“I don’t take bribes from businesses I inspect, but nice try,” Rio snickered, a sly smirk making its way across her lips.
“Not an employee, remember?”
Oh shit.
Rio could feel her heart drop into her stomach. This gorgeous, fiery woman seems to legitimately be flirting with her this time, not just to protect her union.
Agatha continues, clearly enjoying the increase in Rio’s stress and horniness levels. “This dance I was gonna do just for me. I was gonna shake the rust off and see if I still got it,” she said with a wink. “Too bad you missed your shot.”
Rio’s hand shot out, her strong grip wrapping urgently around Agatha’s thin wrist.
“Woah, woah, woah. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. The night is still young,” she teased, desperately not wanting their interaction to end here.
“What are you asking, hot stuff?” Agatha replied, eyes glinting with lust.
“Have dinner with me,” Rio said, the ask evident in her tone even though she phrased it like a command. “I know a great late-night Indian spot not too far from here and you strike me as a woman who can handle a little spice in her life.”
“You know what, sure. Fuck it,” Agatha answered. “Lemme grab my purse from the back and I’ll meet you out front?”
“It’s a date,” Rio replied.