French Kiss
Summary– This is a one-part fic taking place somewhere in the 2 years Sydney was missing. She is pretending to be Julia Thorne, but Sydney’s own sense of identity is becoming skewed as she is starting to think and act like a ruthless killer instead of herself. This is why I used two names for Sydney’s POV, for when she thinks either as Julia or Sydney. Make sense? If not, I’ll be happy to answer any queries.
Disclaimer– characters and such not mine.
BTW: This fic was inspired by the song “Before He Cheats” by Carrie Underwood. I’m going through an I Hate Boys stage right now, and I’m thinking this might be a product of my bitterness, lol.
Let me know what you think. Like it? Great! Don’t like it? That’s ok too, just tell me why.
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It was nearing 10 o’clock by the time Sydney finally walked into the hotel room she was sharing with her boyfriend and partner, Simon Walker. Their current job was in Paris, and the one before that was Berlin, and before that, Vienna....Sydney couldn’t remember having a permanent residence in over a year. She was utterly exhausted and was looking forward to a long, hot shower and curling up with a mug of her favorite green tea and the book she hadn’t had the time to continue reading lately.
As Sydney kicked off her too-high heels and hung up her coat, she checked her messages, but their was only one. It was Simon, calling from his cell phone. Sydney had been so focused on getting off her aching feet that she hadn’t even noticed her supposed lover wasn’t home.
“Julia, babe, it’s Simon. I won’t be coming home for a while tonight. We ran into a couple delays, and it’ll take some time to sort this out. I’ll see you later, ok?”
End of messages.
Sydney hit the delete button, annoyed. This was typical Simon. Always vague, never offering an explanation and never apologizing.
However, Simon had been more vague and distant lately, frequently coming home later with no particular reason. Normally, this wouldn’t have bothered Sydney, but this was not the only change in behavior she noticed in him.
When they had first met at a dinner with a client and Sydney was introduced to him as Julia Thorne, Simon had not hid the fact that he saw her as incredibly hot. His eyes lazily roamed over her body in that cocky way of his, and Sydney could only imagine the thoughts that were likely running through his mind of what he wanted to do to her, right then and there. And Sydney, as Julia, did the same to Simon, letting him know without words exactly what she thought of him. Simon had met his match, and she could tell he liked her boldness. Throughout the dinner, Sydney would catch Simon’s eyes resting on her breasts or the way her skirt draped over her crossed legs. Not long into the evening when Sydney had excused herself to go to the ladies room, Simon had followed her and the two wasted no time in showing what they thought of one another. This was Julia, though. Sydney herself didn’t find Simon to be anything special, but she went with it to keep up her facade.
And since then, Simon had never hesitated to let Sydney know, with stares or touches, what kind of an effect she had on him.
Until now.
Over the past two weeks or so, Simon had been offering less physical affection and always seemed to be distracted. Just the other day, Sydney had come into the bedroom from the shower with just a towel wrapped around her, and Simon, stretched out on the bed, talking on his cell phone, had hardly looked at her sideways. This had never happened before.
Considering all of this while in the shower, Sydney got the feeling that somehow, this time, this excuse was different. She sensed something in Simon’s voice that she couldn’t quite place, but she didn’t like it. Sydney quickly toweled off, got dressed and, ignoring the ache in her feet from an already stressful day, headed out the door.
At first she didn’t even know where to go, she just drove aimlessly. After about twenty minutes, frustrated, she pulled over and rubbed her temples, angry with herself. How did she expect to find out what Simon was up to by randomly driving down city streets? Then, either by listening to her gut instinct or women’s intuition, Sydney was somehow led to Simon’s favorite club in this part of Paris. She was parked outside for a good ten minutes before finally forcing herself to go in.
Staying inconspicuous was easy in this place, because of the lighting, or lack of it. Music pounded from the speakers around her, and couples grinded against each other while others were strewn on couches. Sydney scanned the room and her eyes rested on the bar, and what she saw shouldn’t have been a surprise, but it made her feel sick nonetheless.
Standing at the bar was Simon, and some other girl Sydney had never seen before. Her skirt was alarmingly short, and there was a good two or three inches of bare skin showing between the skirt and her flimsy halter top. To top it off, she was wearing very high stilettos and a belly chain that showcased her navel piercing. In short, this girl was a floozy. But the way the girl was dressed was not what caught Sydney’s attention. All she could see was Simon’s hand moving lower and lower down that slut’s back, and the way she giggled when he whispered something in her ear and kissed her neck.
By now, everything was a blur of fury as Sydney quickly turned around and left the club. But once she reached the parking lot, the gleam of Simon’s black Lexus caught her eye. This car was Simon’s pride and joy. He had it washed nearly every day, and sometimes more, if a speck of dirt happened to land on it’s immaculate exterior.
The Julia in Sydney had taken over, and it was too late to stop herself. She reached into her handbag, pulled out her keys and enjoyed the satisfying scrape of the jagged edge of the key meeting the side of Simon’s car. She got around to the front of the car, and combining all her strength and rage, dug her Manolo Blahnik-clad foot into each headlight, puncturing both. Oddly, this gave Sydney a sense of calm, and she got another idea. After using the spare key Simon undoubtedly forgot he gave her, Sydney reached for the switchblade that was always with her and left one big rip in each of the soft leather seats. One neat slash in each tire later, and she was done. After surveying her work, Sydney dug into her bag once more and pulled out her favorite blood-red lipstick. She applied the lip color, leaned over, and pressed her lips to the driver’s side window, leaving a blood red lip print. That bastard had no idea who he was dealing with when they first met, and he clearly still didn’t.
Walking away, Julia smiled to herself.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
So that’s it. ^_^ This is my first fic, and the idea had been rolling around in my head for a while so I thought I’d try my hand at it. Hope to hear from you,
Chels
Summary– This is a one-part fic taking place somewhere in the 2 years Sydney was missing. She is pretending to be Julia Thorne, but Sydney’s own sense of identity is becoming skewed as she is starting to think and act like a ruthless killer instead of herself. This is why I used two names for Sydney’s POV, for when she thinks either as Julia or Sydney. Make sense? If not, I’ll be happy to answer any queries.
Disclaimer– characters and such not mine.
BTW: This fic was inspired by the song “Before He Cheats” by Carrie Underwood. I’m going through an I Hate Boys stage right now, and I’m thinking this might be a product of my bitterness, lol.
Let me know what you think. Like it? Great! Don’t like it? That’s ok too, just tell me why.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was nearing 10 o’clock by the time Sydney finally walked into the hotel room she was sharing with her boyfriend and partner, Simon Walker. Their current job was in Paris, and the one before that was Berlin, and before that, Vienna....Sydney couldn’t remember having a permanent residence in over a year. She was utterly exhausted and was looking forward to a long, hot shower and curling up with a mug of her favorite green tea and the book she hadn’t had the time to continue reading lately.
As Sydney kicked off her too-high heels and hung up her coat, she checked her messages, but their was only one. It was Simon, calling from his cell phone. Sydney had been so focused on getting off her aching feet that she hadn’t even noticed her supposed lover wasn’t home.
“Julia, babe, it’s Simon. I won’t be coming home for a while tonight. We ran into a couple delays, and it’ll take some time to sort this out. I’ll see you later, ok?”
End of messages.
Sydney hit the delete button, annoyed. This was typical Simon. Always vague, never offering an explanation and never apologizing.
However, Simon had been more vague and distant lately, frequently coming home later with no particular reason. Normally, this wouldn’t have bothered Sydney, but this was not the only change in behavior she noticed in him.
When they had first met at a dinner with a client and Sydney was introduced to him as Julia Thorne, Simon had not hid the fact that he saw her as incredibly hot. His eyes lazily roamed over her body in that cocky way of his, and Sydney could only imagine the thoughts that were likely running through his mind of what he wanted to do to her, right then and there. And Sydney, as Julia, did the same to Simon, letting him know without words exactly what she thought of him. Simon had met his match, and she could tell he liked her boldness. Throughout the dinner, Sydney would catch Simon’s eyes resting on her breasts or the way her skirt draped over her crossed legs. Not long into the evening when Sydney had excused herself to go to the ladies room, Simon had followed her and the two wasted no time in showing what they thought of one another. This was Julia, though. Sydney herself didn’t find Simon to be anything special, but she went with it to keep up her facade.
And since then, Simon had never hesitated to let Sydney know, with stares or touches, what kind of an effect she had on him.
Until now.
Over the past two weeks or so, Simon had been offering less physical affection and always seemed to be distracted. Just the other day, Sydney had come into the bedroom from the shower with just a towel wrapped around her, and Simon, stretched out on the bed, talking on his cell phone, had hardly looked at her sideways. This had never happened before.
Considering all of this while in the shower, Sydney got the feeling that somehow, this time, this excuse was different. She sensed something in Simon’s voice that she couldn’t quite place, but she didn’t like it. Sydney quickly toweled off, got dressed and, ignoring the ache in her feet from an already stressful day, headed out the door.
At first she didn’t even know where to go, she just drove aimlessly. After about twenty minutes, frustrated, she pulled over and rubbed her temples, angry with herself. How did she expect to find out what Simon was up to by randomly driving down city streets? Then, either by listening to her gut instinct or women’s intuition, Sydney was somehow led to Simon’s favorite club in this part of Paris. She was parked outside for a good ten minutes before finally forcing herself to go in.
Staying inconspicuous was easy in this place, because of the lighting, or lack of it. Music pounded from the speakers around her, and couples grinded against each other while others were strewn on couches. Sydney scanned the room and her eyes rested on the bar, and what she saw shouldn’t have been a surprise, but it made her feel sick nonetheless.
Standing at the bar was Simon, and some other girl Sydney had never seen before. Her skirt was alarmingly short, and there was a good two or three inches of bare skin showing between the skirt and her flimsy halter top. To top it off, she was wearing very high stilettos and a belly chain that showcased her navel piercing. In short, this girl was a floozy. But the way the girl was dressed was not what caught Sydney’s attention. All she could see was Simon’s hand moving lower and lower down that slut’s back, and the way she giggled when he whispered something in her ear and kissed her neck.
By now, everything was a blur of fury as Sydney quickly turned around and left the club. But once she reached the parking lot, the gleam of Simon’s black Lexus caught her eye. This car was Simon’s pride and joy. He had it washed nearly every day, and sometimes more, if a speck of dirt happened to land on it’s immaculate exterior.
The Julia in Sydney had taken over, and it was too late to stop herself. She reached into her handbag, pulled out her keys and enjoyed the satisfying scrape of the jagged edge of the key meeting the side of Simon’s car. She got around to the front of the car, and combining all her strength and rage, dug her Manolo Blahnik-clad foot into each headlight, puncturing both. Oddly, this gave Sydney a sense of calm, and she got another idea. After using the spare key Simon undoubtedly forgot he gave her, Sydney reached for the switchblade that was always with her and left one big rip in each of the soft leather seats. One neat slash in each tire later, and she was done. After surveying her work, Sydney dug into her bag once more and pulled out her favorite blood-red lipstick. She applied the lip color, leaned over, and pressed her lips to the driver’s side window, leaving a blood red lip print. That bastard had no idea who he was dealing with when they first met, and he clearly still didn’t.
Walking away, Julia smiled to herself.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
So that’s it. ^_^ This is my first fic, and the idea had been rolling around in my head for a while so I thought I’d try my hand at it. Hope to hear from you,
Chels