Thank you for waiting so long and please enjoy!
The flight from Chicago to Houston was relatively quick, though Hardison had to restrain Parker a few times; she thought it would be a great idea to open the cabin door and go skydiving. When Hardison had asked her where she was going to get a parachute, Parker had called for blankets from the flight attendants. Just another reason the adjective used to describe Parker was usually this one: insane.
The club wasn't easy to find, even with Hardison's help. It was in the middle of nowhere, only technically in Houston, within a huge gated community. There was a main road going down the community, with three lanes on both sides of the large median in the middle.
The houses on the right side of the road were large and sprawling, with immaculately groomed lawns; they were Victorian-style, and practically smelt of money. The left side of the street was fenced in, accessible by a single large gate, one of wrought iron, the spikes at the top of the fence made of a silvery material. A dense line of trees down the length of the fence made it nearly impossible to see the houses within the gate. As they drove past, they could see the words, 'Hunter's Creek' above the gate.
They drove for another half-hour, passing through what seemed to be a commerce center; there was a health center, a gym, a small grocery store, and, oddly enough, a store that sold hunting equipment.
Finally, Nate drove down a narrow side-street, pulling up in front of a large, plain building. There was no sign outside or anything to set it apart from a storage facility. But Nate insisted that it was the club, so the others followed him inside, if a bit hesitant.
Inside was cool, low-lit, and quite ordinary. It was a long rectangle of a room with not a lot in it. Poles for dancers were set on raised platforms that were lit from below. There was a bar in one corner, various liquids in colorful bottles lining the wall behind it; spindly chairs and tables were scattered in the area near the bar. A narrow stage was set against the wall opposite the entrance, framed by red velvet curtains.
"Mr. Ford, you came!" Nate turned to see Michelle standing there, dressed in the clothes he had last seen her in, minus the hoody; instead, she wore a grey turtleneck. Not waiting to exchange pleasantries, Nate cut straight to the chase.
"Where's Starla, Michelle?" He asked, voice low. Michelle only smiled and walked away, glancing back to make sure they were following.
"I am not liking this, man. Who knows where she's leading us?" Hardison said in a low voice, following nevertheless. Eliot shrugged.
"Don't know. Nate seems to trust her." He said simply. He wasn't really worried; he had walked out of worst situations before. He just hoped this 'Starla' lady wasn't one to carry guns.
"Just through here." Michelle said, opening a dark wooden door. They stepped through the doorway, the thieves flinching when the door shut behind them with a sharp click.
The room was large and dark, with dim lighting and dark navy walls. The floor was black granite that sparkled with reflected light; looking up, the ceiling was littered with tiny, pale yellow lights that looked like stars. A single large white light at the center of the ceiling was partially covered, making it look like an almost-full moon.
"So, Nathan Ford, we meet again." A soft voice said from right behind Nate. He turned around to find himself face to face with Starla. She was dressed in a slinky little black dress that hugged her body, the low light hitting her every curve perfectly, making her the picture of beauty. Her long black hair looked like a professional hairstylist had been involved, the loose ebony curls falling down her back like a dark gleaming river. When she moved, she moved silently, deliberately, her hips swaying in a hypnotizing manner, as though she was on a stage and the entire world was watching.
"You haven't aged a day, Ms Starla." She waved a hand dismissively, blue nails flashing, but it was true. Starla was just as sexy as she had been three years ago. And she knew it, too, which made her all the more dangerous. She wrapped his hand in hers, her touch ice-cold.
"Oh, don't call me that, Nicky." Starla said with a pout, dark red lips curling into a playful smile. "I know we haven't seen each other for a while, but there's no need to get…" She stepped closer to him, close enough that he could feel her breath on his cheek, smell her light perfume, see the streaks of silver in her otherwise blue eyes. "formal." She whispered. She smirked when he shivered a little, and stepped away, apparently satisfied by his reaction. Yes, Nate decided, Starla hadn't changed a bit.
"I take it your pets know all about my little business?" Starla didn't wait for an answer, silencing the thieves' protests with a glance.
"Hardison did some research."
"Ah, we have a sparker, do we?" Starla asked softly, coming to stand before Hardison, who was looking more than a little nervous. Nate wondered if any man could not be nervous around Starla; even he was wary of the woman, and she considered him a friend. Nate didn't want to imagine how she acted around her enemies.
Starla raised a hand to lightly trace Hardison's jaw, smiling when he flinched. "I thought you knew my opinion on them, Nicky." Starla said, a flint edge in her words, though she never looked away from Hardison.
"If you want the job done, he stays." Nate said, trying to appear confident. Starla looked at Hardison for a few more seconds, then turned to Eliot, who was as relaxed and calm as he always was. Starla circled him, eyes gleaming in the low light.
"Ah, my type of man, this one. Is he mine to play with?" Starla asked, smiling.
"No, he's on my team." Nate said. "Look, Starla, I know you're a busy woman, so why not tell us about this job?" Nate said, trying to distract the woman from Eliot.
"Later, Nicky, later. You must be tired from your long trip down here." Starla moved silently away from Eliot. "I think all of you should take a break before I tell you everything." She said.
"I know you, Starla. Even after we get the details of the job, you won't tell us everything. You never do. You always have a little secret or two hidden away." Nate said; he'd forgotten how frustrating Starla was when it came to work.
"Who are they?" Someone said in a low, gravelly voice. They turned to see a man standing at the doorway, arms folded over his chest. He was large and nicely muscled, enough to scare even the bravest man away. He looked like he was in his mid-thirties, but his silvery hair said different, maybe late forties. Dressed all in black, his shirt tight against his body, he was quite a menacing sight. But Starla was at his side in an instant, laying her head against his arm.
"Nothing, they're nothing, just a new shipment of feedbags for our nighttime friends." She said, completely at ease, like Sophie was when breaking the law. "Now go away, Daryl." The man growled, but he soon left. Starla stared at the closed door for a moment; with her back to them, the thieves couldn't tell what she was thinking. She sighed and seemed to deflate before them, sagging slightly, as though a great invisible weight was pressing down on her shoulders. When Starla turned around to face them, she managed a weak smile, but it had lost its sexy, dangerous edge. She looked tired to the bone.
"Retire, all of you. Rest easy, you won't be disturbed. When I need you, I'll call." She said before disappearing into the shadows.
Hey everyone, sorry I haven't uploaded anything in a while. I haven't seen any Leverage episodes lately, so the characters might be a bit off. Also, I've been bitten by the CSI bug and that's distracted me a lot. Anyway, let me know what you think. I'm having a hard time with Parker's character; I'm one of those people who are creative, but like order and rationality. I can't write crazy too well, so if you have any suggestions, tell me!
Thanks for reading!
