Wooden planks were arranged in a square fashion. It was called a dance floor, they had said. Similar in structure and construction to the stage at the theatre, she hesitantly put a toe on the edge. Tapping it a few times with the satin of her shoe to test the give she felt confident enough to step in full on to the surface. Her black eyes had taken in the previous occupants as they moved and twisted about, their bodies making unconscionable angles. Bare arms at her side she stood there, facing out as the music began to play. Slowly she moved one shoe to the right. Inhaling she followed it with the other. “Shake it!” From beyond the edge of the wood the woman in the hat called out. Kylee glanced down to her hands. Empty and outstretched with her palm up as if to show the woman she replied. “But I have nothing on my hands.” “No, No, No. -Your- hips.” As if to demonstrate, the hatted one shook her own from side to side. When that didn’t make it clear enough she reached for Kylee’s. In an effort to mimic the motion Kylee jerked her tiny waist too and fro, Confusion clouding her thoughts. Irritated at her inability to feel whatever it was one was supposed to feel when thrusting their hips, she came to a stop and casually made her way off the dance floor thanking the woman as she went. Returning to her earlier position against the line of wooden barrels containing something called alcohol, she tried once more to move her hips as directed. Irritated more, her head jerked up causing her to come face to profile with the Time Lord. Instantaneously bowing her head in a submissive motion, she knew that if he were here, things were about to get much -much- worse than thrusting.