Drabble Meme results 4/5
Apr. 30th, 2009 04:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
The always lovely dream_mancer requested Leverage, preferably with Parker. So, I present a little snippet of Parker's first meeting with Nate.
One more to go after this. If you want another one, feel free to leave a comment at the original meme post. There's five more "slots" to fill, and I've been having fun.
He wasn't what she had expected. The infamous Nathan Ford. She'd seen him before, seven years ago, after the Berlin thing. He's almost caught her then, but she'd still taken the time to stop, to study him.
Slicked back hair, pressed suit. He had looked just like all the other corporate world suckers.
He'd gotten Adamson six months before. Adamson was stupid, though. Too cautious. Caution got you caught, in this business. And Nate Ford was anything but stupid.
The Nate Ford that stopped in front of her only resembled that Ford of before, and not because he was seven years older. His hair was long and unkempt. He stunk of alcohol. At least it smelled more expensive than the rot gut her fourth foster father had drank. Or was it the fifth? She couldn't tell what kind it was. She had never cared to distinguish by smell or taste. Alcohol was for getting drunk, not for enjoying.
He looked at them all, his face dismissive. She could tell he didn't like them, and her eyes narrowed in irritation. Yes, they were criminals, but that didn't mean that they weren't nice people.
Hardison, for example. He was all... OK, she had no idea if he or Spencer were good people. And she strongly suspected that she wasn't. She didn't like puppies or kittens or anything like that. She liked cash. And pretty, pretty things. Ford was the only person she knew who could be classified as "good people".
"Let's get this done," he said, turning away from them and towards the plans stretched across the table behind them.
One more to go after this. If you want another one, feel free to leave a comment at the original meme post. There's five more "slots" to fill, and I've been having fun.
He wasn't what she had expected. The infamous Nathan Ford. She'd seen him before, seven years ago, after the Berlin thing. He's almost caught her then, but she'd still taken the time to stop, to study him.
Slicked back hair, pressed suit. He had looked just like all the other corporate world suckers.
He'd gotten Adamson six months before. Adamson was stupid, though. Too cautious. Caution got you caught, in this business. And Nate Ford was anything but stupid.
The Nate Ford that stopped in front of her only resembled that Ford of before, and not because he was seven years older. His hair was long and unkempt. He stunk of alcohol. At least it smelled more expensive than the rot gut her fourth foster father had drank. Or was it the fifth? She couldn't tell what kind it was. She had never cared to distinguish by smell or taste. Alcohol was for getting drunk, not for enjoying.
He looked at them all, his face dismissive. She could tell he didn't like them, and her eyes narrowed in irritation. Yes, they were criminals, but that didn't mean that they weren't nice people.
Hardison, for example. He was all... OK, she had no idea if he or Spencer were good people. And she strongly suspected that she wasn't. She didn't like puppies or kittens or anything like that. She liked cash. And pretty, pretty things. Ford was the only person she knew who could be classified as "good people".
"Let's get this done," he said, turning away from them and towards the plans stretched across the table behind them.