Disclaimer: I do not own Secret Diary of a Call Girl or Weeds. No profit made, no infringement intended.


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Nancy was taking a holiday. She'd had all she could take of drug lords, Freudian children and her brother-in-law. She was spending a weekend in London, and nothing sort of getting arrested again could stop her.

She'd left Andy in charge of the kids (if you dared to call it that). She told him that in an emergency, he was to call an ambulance, not her. Once the plane had finally taken off, she'd let out a sigh of relief.

It wasn't until she'd passed through customs that she truly relaxed. She counted herself lucky that she hadn't ended up with drugs hidden in her suitcase. Even considering she was a drug dealer, Nancy seemed to have really terrible luck.

She checked into some ritzy London Hotel that was big enough to give her the abnormity she craved, and expensive enough that she didn't feel like some seedy drug dealer or worse, some cheap tourist.

Rummaging through the mini-bar, she pours herself a G&T (because Tequila always ended badly, and what better way to experience British culture than drinking). She flops on the bed, grinning at the prospect of room service and uninterrupted TV time. Flipping through the channels, she finally ends up on one of those channels that are a preview for some adult channel with a silly name like "Spice". At first she laughs at the preview, the G&T adding to the fun. After a few minutes though, she starts to feel a bit turned on. Not by the overly tanned blonde with boobs that could cause brain damage if they hit you in the head. No, it's just thinking about anyone touching her... undressing her... God it had been a long time.

Blame it on the G&T (glass two if you're counting), but Nancy finds herself opening her laptop, doing Google searches her parental control at home would block. She soon finds a number and dials, feeling excited and naughty (though she's done much more illegal things many times).

"Hello, this is Belle," a woman answers, and the voice makes Nancy a little weak in the knees.

"Belle, Hi, I'm Nancy. I'd like to make an appointment, or… um, what do you call it?" Nancy replies, slightly flustered.

"I'm sorry Nancy, but I don't do women. I do threesomes occasionally, but that's all."

"Oh, I'm not gay or anything," Nancy replies quickly. "I just… I want someone who could understand… someone with no expectations or complications… and gigolos are just too creepy," she admits.

Belle pauses, thinking it over. Finally she replies, "Ok, but I need to run a background check on you."

"Nancy Botwin. You'll find priors on suspected drug dealing. It's all true. I'm not seedy though, just widowed and need the money."

"Don't we all," Belle replies, laughing. "As long as your background check clears, I'm free to meet you this evening, say 8ish? Will that work for you?"

"Yes," is all Nancy can manage to reply.

"Where shall I meet you?" Belle asks.

"I'm staying at the Sanderson, room 118."

"See you at 8 then, Nancy," Belle says, before hanging up.