ext_29374 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
daera23.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crack_van2004-03-23 05:09 pm
daera23.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2004-03-23 05:09 pm
Do You Do Windows To? by autobadgirl (NC-17)
Fandom:ALIAS
Pairing: Sydney / Vaughn
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
autobadgirl
Author Website:
Why this must be read:
This is why NC-17 is written in fanfiction. It's all about finding that wonderfully dirty little moment in the show that is just begging to be expanded on, and letting the characters (emphasis on the word characters) act out that little fantasy.
Vaughn notices the shoes first; they stand sturdy and institutional next to a plastic caddy full of cleaning supplies. They lead to slim coltish legs where white athletic socks don’t reach quite high enough to hide the bruise on one shin. The hem of a black polyester maid’s uniform hangs at her knees; a starched, neatly pressed white apron gives some shape to the loose uniform, defining a trim waist. The heavy braid of blonde hair flips casually over one shoulder, as her head swings round. A pert face scrubbed clean of make-up looks at him, large black framed glasses outline wide guileless blue eyes, the lush mouth works at gum, Vaughn catches the scent of bubblegum as she dips her head shyly and smiles.
"Can I speak to Mr. Vaughn please?"
Vaughn gapes, stunned for a moment, so taken in by the disguise he responds automatically, "I’m Mike Vaughn—wait Syd what is this?" He shuts the door unlatches the chain and open the door again on her puzzled face.
"Sorry Mister but I don’t know anybody called Sid . . .My name is Wendy? I’m from Tidy Maid? She plucks at her uniform. "I’m here to clean your house?" The rising inflections coupled with the blue contacts strip years from Sydney, she could pass for a teenager the disguise is that good, never mind how deeply in role she is. Vaughn chuckles and opens the door wider. Either Sydney finished her business in Virginia early or there never was any meeting, just a ruse to throw me off. He plays along, tossing her an easy curve ball to see how she’ll react.
"Wendy was it? I’m sorry Wendy I never called any maid’s service. There must be some mistake . . ." He smiles apologetically and goes to close the door. Her hand reaches out to stop it; her cotton candy pink polished nails tapping nervously against the wood.
"Yeah, I know. I got a call from a woman - your wife maybe? She told me to come and do whatever needed doing." She blushes at the innocent intendre and hurriedly finishes. "Round the house like?"
Do You Do Windows To?
Pairing: Sydney / Vaughn
Author on LJ:
autobadgirlAuthor Website:
Why this must be read:
This is why NC-17 is written in fanfiction. It's all about finding that wonderfully dirty little moment in the show that is just begging to be expanded on, and letting the characters (emphasis on the word characters) act out that little fantasy.
Vaughn notices the shoes first; they stand sturdy and institutional next to a plastic caddy full of cleaning supplies. They lead to slim coltish legs where white athletic socks don’t reach quite high enough to hide the bruise on one shin. The hem of a black polyester maid’s uniform hangs at her knees; a starched, neatly pressed white apron gives some shape to the loose uniform, defining a trim waist. The heavy braid of blonde hair flips casually over one shoulder, as her head swings round. A pert face scrubbed clean of make-up looks at him, large black framed glasses outline wide guileless blue eyes, the lush mouth works at gum, Vaughn catches the scent of bubblegum as she dips her head shyly and smiles.
"Can I speak to Mr. Vaughn please?"
Vaughn gapes, stunned for a moment, so taken in by the disguise he responds automatically, "I’m Mike Vaughn—wait Syd what is this?" He shuts the door unlatches the chain and open the door again on her puzzled face.
"Sorry Mister but I don’t know anybody called Sid . . .My name is Wendy? I’m from Tidy Maid? She plucks at her uniform. "I’m here to clean your house?" The rising inflections coupled with the blue contacts strip years from Sydney, she could pass for a teenager the disguise is that good, never mind how deeply in role she is. Vaughn chuckles and opens the door wider. Either Sydney finished her business in Virginia early or there never was any meeting, just a ruse to throw me off. He plays along, tossing her an easy curve ball to see how she’ll react.
"Wendy was it? I’m sorry Wendy I never called any maid’s service. There must be some mistake . . ." He smiles apologetically and goes to close the door. Her hand reaches out to stop it; her cotton candy pink polished nails tapping nervously against the wood.
"Yeah, I know. I got a call from a woman - your wife maybe? She told me to come and do whatever needed doing." She blushes at the innocent intendre and hurriedly finishes. "Round the house like?"
Do You Do Windows To?