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crack_van2004-12-11 09:42 pm
brigid31.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2004-12-11 09:42 pm
Bristow's 11 by Yahtzee (NC-17)
Fandom: ALIAS
Pairing: Jack/Irina, Jack/Katya, Sark/Lauren, Sydney/Vaughn
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
yahtzee63
Author Website: Here
Why this must be read: I love heist stories, it's one of the reasons I love Alias. This is a great heist fic and would work as a wonderful episode. I mean they have gone to Vegas already. This isn't a crossover but rather uses the premise of Ocean's 11 and tweaks it for Alias. I haven't had so much fun reading a story in a long time.
Jack Bristow stood in the center of the restaurant that topped the Xanadu Casino and Resort in Las Vegas, taking in the spectacle that lay before him. Beyond the restaurant's windows stretched the city in all its gaudy splendor: the Eiffel Tower in pink, the Great Wall of China in blue, the canals of Venice to his left, the Great Pyramids to his right, all of it spotlighted and aglow in the darkness.
If only it were really all this close, he thought. I'd have a hell of a lot less jet lag.
Stepping around various tables to get closer to the glass, he slipped his cell phone from the chest pocket of his tuxedo. Of course, this particular cell phone had a few extras - one of which he needed at the moment. Jack tapped what looked like an ordinary redial key, then murmured: "Final call. Check in."
One by one, they answered.
**
Sydney was standing in a dressing room, staring at breasts.
At first she'd been embarrassed, then asked herself a few questions about her orientation, then realized that, no - when you were surrounded by breasts this enormous, this fake, this plentiful, and this abundantly decorated with rhinestones, there was nothing to do but stare.
At her father's voice, she tilted her head, pretending to adjust the heavy, feathered headdress she wore. "Checking in. Situation normal."
He didn't reply; she didn't expect him to. Just as well - there was something unnerving about trying to think of her father in a room with three dozen half-naked showgirls.
Make that three dozen OTHER half-naked showgirls, Sydney corrected herself, glimpsing her own outfit in the mirror. She had a silvery bikini top, like the other girls who would be out on the floor instead of onstage. At first, when she'd gotten that assignment, she'd been relieved. But now, staring at C and D cups that levitated unnaturally, she found herself looking down and musing, Is this just a hint to get a Wonderbra?
To hell with it. She checked her look in the mirror once more - long, feathery brunette wig, platinum lipstick, fake lashes that glittered and about ten square inches of strategically placed silver spandex. Sydney smiled and whispered, "Showtime."
"This your first time, honey?" one of the other dancers said.
"Oh, you know," Sydney said. "Not exactly."
So enjoy this weekend and this fic. If you do enjoy it be sure to check out the soundtrack.
Bristow's 11
Pairing: Jack/Irina, Jack/Katya, Sark/Lauren, Sydney/Vaughn
Author on LJ:
yahtzee63Author Website: Here
Why this must be read: I love heist stories, it's one of the reasons I love Alias. This is a great heist fic and would work as a wonderful episode. I mean they have gone to Vegas already. This isn't a crossover but rather uses the premise of Ocean's 11 and tweaks it for Alias. I haven't had so much fun reading a story in a long time.
Jack Bristow stood in the center of the restaurant that topped the Xanadu Casino and Resort in Las Vegas, taking in the spectacle that lay before him. Beyond the restaurant's windows stretched the city in all its gaudy splendor: the Eiffel Tower in pink, the Great Wall of China in blue, the canals of Venice to his left, the Great Pyramids to his right, all of it spotlighted and aglow in the darkness.
If only it were really all this close, he thought. I'd have a hell of a lot less jet lag.
Stepping around various tables to get closer to the glass, he slipped his cell phone from the chest pocket of his tuxedo. Of course, this particular cell phone had a few extras - one of which he needed at the moment. Jack tapped what looked like an ordinary redial key, then murmured: "Final call. Check in."
One by one, they answered.
**
Sydney was standing in a dressing room, staring at breasts.
At first she'd been embarrassed, then asked herself a few questions about her orientation, then realized that, no - when you were surrounded by breasts this enormous, this fake, this plentiful, and this abundantly decorated with rhinestones, there was nothing to do but stare.
At her father's voice, she tilted her head, pretending to adjust the heavy, feathered headdress she wore. "Checking in. Situation normal."
He didn't reply; she didn't expect him to. Just as well - there was something unnerving about trying to think of her father in a room with three dozen half-naked showgirls.
Make that three dozen OTHER half-naked showgirls, Sydney corrected herself, glimpsing her own outfit in the mirror. She had a silvery bikini top, like the other girls who would be out on the floor instead of onstage. At first, when she'd gotten that assignment, she'd been relieved. But now, staring at C and D cups that levitated unnaturally, she found herself looking down and musing, Is this just a hint to get a Wonderbra?
To hell with it. She checked her look in the mirror once more - long, feathery brunette wig, platinum lipstick, fake lashes that glittered and about ten square inches of strategically placed silver spandex. Sydney smiled and whispered, "Showtime."
"This your first time, honey?" one of the other dancers said.
"Oh, you know," Sydney said. "Not exactly."
So enjoy this weekend and this fic. If you do enjoy it be sure to check out the soundtrack.
Bristow's 11
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