I'm going to ruin the "surprise" up front and say this is a PIKE story. Because let's face it, if you're familiar with my work, that's never really a surprise. This was my original idea as to how I would write Paige into the pilot episode, since Serinda Swan wasn't cast at that point. I still consider it mostly in canon. (Yes, I obsess over canon too much. I don't see the fun in writing fanfiction if I'm not seeing how far I can stretch the rules without breaking them)

I actually came up with this idea over a year ago, and I was going to have another writer help me write it because I'm not good at smut, but then I realized I couldn't write with other people because I'm too much of a control freak. So I had to let my first rough draft sit for a while so I could get back to my original vision while I attempted to forget the second draft the other writer sent back to me that I discarded. (Don't get me wrong, I like this other writer's work, it just wasn't in line with my vision and I'm oddly picky about tone of my characters)

And in answer to the questions- yes I will finish my other stories I have on this site hopefully soon. These little projects are just a tad more manageable for me, and I'm a little out of practice/out of the zone where I hear the characters talking, so editing these side projects from my vault help me get back into it.

Warnings: Poorly written smut will occur at some point.

Mike's breath fogs the glass of the car as they drive down the road. He can do this. The car pulls over in the parking lot of a building with no windows in a rough side of town.

"Let's go Frankie." Ludwig, the man who has been riding in the backseat with a gun trained on Mike, calls back to him to get out of the car. Mike swallows hard and with a shaky hand reaches for the handle. This is it.

"I'm ready. Just tell me who I'm gonna kill." Mike says nervously. He just needs a name so he can get out of here. He hopes Briggs and a dozen cop cars will show up out of nowhere at any second, but the night is silent.

"That can wait. We are ahead of schedule. You look like you could use drink. We won't be long." Benjamin, the more friendly Russian who was driving the car, advises him.

Mike realizes it's a bouncer guarding the door, and the other men hand him their ID's. The bouncer looks sceptically at Frankie's ID and Mike's hands begin to sweat. Still he's allowed to pass with no problems.

Mike's eyes widen as they enter the club. The whole place is a world of velvet, silk, and dark lighting. Mike's one of the youngest patrons there, and everywhere he looks he sees scantily clad young women. It's his first real mission, and the Russian's have brought him to a strip club. He is never gonna live this down.

"What is this place?" Mike asks, trying to get intel for Briggs on his location.

"It's called The Clam." One of the Russian's says, hopefully loud enough that Mike's watch can pick up the name through the pounding of the bass.

"Classy." Mike scoffs, looking around.

"Best kept secret in town. The vodka is cheap and so are girls." Benjamin says, wrapping his arm around a passing waitress and placing an order. Ludwig gestures for Mike to follow him and Benjamin to what is apparently their normal table.

Mike starts to follow, but something stops him in the middle of the floor. On stage wrapped around a pole is the most beautiful woman Mike has ever seen in real life. She has short red hair, a toned tanned body and her hips move in a hypnotic fashion that mesmerises Mike. For a moment he forgets where he is, who he is, he just stands and watches in awe. Benjamin calls to him, and it brings Mike out of his trance. He's not sure how long he was standing there gaping, but he knows the drinks beat him to the table.

He sits down and stares at the bottle of vodka and three glasses. Mike points out a girl on the opposite side of the bar to the other men who turn, allowing Mike to cut his vodka with water. There is way too much riding on this for him to let his senses dull.

His eyes dart back up to the stage, but the girl is gone and in her place is a topless asian girl in a blue wig. Mike's eyes come politely back to his drink. The two men he's with are laughing and speaking in Russian back and forth leaving Mike to sit and contemplate. He's feeling fidgety. He just wants to get it all over with. This waiting is making it worse.

Suddenly the two Russian men turn to stare at Mike and his heart drops into his stomach. He should have been paying more attention to their interaction. Had he done something wrong? Just then Mike feels hands on his shoulders, and hot breath in his ear and he realized they weren't staring at Mike. They were looking behind him. Mike relaxes, but only a bit, because there's hands touching him. The girl behind him is rubbing his shoulders, and admittedly if stripping doesn't work out for this girl she should become a masseuse, but Mike has a job to do and he can't allow himself to lose focus.

"I'm sorry I'm just here to drink. I'm not here for…" Mike's voice trails off when he turns to see the hands on his shoulders belong to the beautiful redhead he saw dancing up on stage before. She seems even more gorgeous up close, if possible. Her green eyes are covered in dark smudged eyeliner, with a twinkle in them like she's up to go good. Mike's mouth is dry.

"What a coincidence, so am I." The redhead takes the glass from Mike's hand and walks around him until she's straddling his lap staring down at him from where she stands. She takes a sip of his drink, and then sets it down on the table behind her making a face. "We need to get you something stronger."

She leans over so her hands are on the back of the chair and begins to dance above him, her breasts hanging tantalizingly in his eyesight. Mike doesn't need to see to know that the two Russian men's eyes are glued to the girl's fantastic ass. Mike closes his eyes uncomfortably. He's not sure what to do with his hands and the girl dances lower and lower until he can feel her undulating in his lap. His fingers clench helplessly into the chair he holds on to. She suddenly arches her back so far that her hair brushes the floor and her entire body is displayed beneath Mike's eyes. His hands instinctively come to her hips to keep her from falling off him, not that she needed it, and when she slowly and sensually brings herself back up a seated position, her eyes lock with Mike's. His heart is beating tightly in his chest, and she continues to a seated position until her lips are mere centimeters from Mike's ear.

"Pay for a room…" She whispers. and Mike at first doesn't understand because his entire world has shrunk to just her and him in this chair and he didn't realize there were such things as rooms. Her hot breath in his ear promises, "I'll make it worth your while."

"I can't- I don't-" Mike can't think with her so close and his fingers clench into her hip.

The red head takes charge sensing Mike's complete inability to do anything at the moment and turns her head to the other two men. Mike is a puddle beneath her.

"Hey can I steal your friend for a minute?" The redhead asks the two Russians as Mike sits terrified. Unable to do anything but stare at the beautiful woman in his lap.

"You know what? I will pay for lap dance. What da hell? You've had hard day, right?" One Russian clapped Mike on the back.

The girl takes Mike's hand and drags him away from the table. Mike has no choice but to reluctantly follow. He has to keep his cool and keep his cover. He keeps reminding himself that Felix and his family are depending on him. He needs to focus. He's Frankie Bout.