The young agent hid his excitement. At one time these could have been his peers, but he disregarded the notion. His true peers would surely reward him greatly for his luck. A young girl (Catelyn? Catalina? It didn't matter) ha, in her innocence, bubbled over with her plans to the undercover agent as he changed his tire in a gas station parking lot 20 miles away. What luck!
He now played the angle, looking for drugs to buy in order to confirm the illicit deeds. His target was Boss Ross. Oh he would never actually touch the drugs himself, of course, but they could arrest his associates and break up the party. The agent worked quickly, letting it be known he was looking for distribution quantities. The name Darla was whispered. You can't miss her, he was assured.
Sure enough, he found her. A performance artist turned con artist. She still did aerial shows as a sign of respect for the big boss, but her main business was facilitating connections between distributers. Darla towered over most, and insisted on wearing obscenely heeled boots. As a result, the officer quickly spotted her, standing on the side of the sound stage directing a confused looking man holding lighting fixture.
The officer approached, determined to make a buy from this woman. He readied his pitch as he rubbed shoulders to breach her inner circle.
Danny, a seasoned vet of the underground, paused when a fine linen shirt brushed past him. He went to inform Boss Ross, shoving some beaded scarfed hippy on his way.
The bead clad burnout continued looking for his lost whiskey friend who had been last seen in a ditch. The drugs buzzing around his mine kept interrupting his task as he wanted to hug every new acquaintance made. His newest friend was seemingly made of metal, jewellery clanking together as he walked. The titanium man admired a passing tattoo, tracing the lines. "Whose the artist man, that's a fuckin beauty!"
Terran proudly showed his arm off to the stranger. "Fuckin right? My girlfriend did it, don't know where she is..." He turned and both metal man and Catalyn were nowhere to be found. "Well fuck!"
He spotted her by the tallest woman he had ever seen. Terran sighed. His young lady friend had no tact, always approaching the powerful with utterly inane babble. The woman waved directions to a crew of men finishing the lights assembly. Catalyn chatted happily beside her, and then exclaimed, "There he is!" loud enough to reach Terran's ears. He assumed, wrongly, he was the subject of her diatribe. He reached her in three steps and touched her arm as Catalyn reached up to tug Darla's sleeve like a lost child.
Darla froze and looked in the direction the ignorant waif was pointing. She loved the blissfully self unaware. So full of information they did not know was valuable. The approaching stranger was just as the lighting lead Danny had described. Linen too fine for dancing in the mud. Pride instilled by an academy. She shooed Catalyn and her friend away and pretended to be surprised when the man she correctly identified as an officer approached.
"Are you Darla? I heard you have what's good." His practiced lingo sounded forced. Darla responded with a cautious, "Depends what's good."
They haggled. Darla stonewalled, enjoying her catch. They made an agreement. The man, satisfied the whole ordeal was caught on tape, exchanged a bundle of money for her shrink wrapped bundle. He suppressed his glee and headed towards his vehicle, carelessly brushing against all manner of newly arrived patrons. Darla smiled and began her acrobatic routine.
A colourful chain of people all laughed, danced, kissed, traded, and hugged as the music began. Outside, two dancers dressed as furry blue monsters giggled as a man in a white linen shirt forcefully tore open a plastic package, erupting in a shower of glitter and curses.
"I wonder what that was about?" One fur clad lady asked the other. "No idea. Let's dance!"