L.A. Connaissance
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Title: L.A. Connaissance
Author: Jennifer a.k.a. “Jenn”
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I wish I owned Michael Vartan but alas it is not to be… at least not in my dreams. When it IS my dreams… he’s usually waiting for me… completely salivating for me of course.
Summary: I wanted to get away from the dramatic Post “The Telling” storylines (despite the fact that I wrote one of those…) and write some light, romantic, AU, and hopefully slightly humorous.
For all the drama-ridden S/V lovers out there. This is for you as well as therapy for me.
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1.
I thought that I would always be alone. It wasn’t that I had any particular physical disfigurements, any life-threatening diseases, any commitment issues, or any lack of common sense.
Or at least I hope not.
I hate to sound like the stereotypical overly-emotional female who believes that love will elude her for the rest of her life and that she will end up a spinster… but I think that there are times when you can’t help but embrace your destiny. Your fate. So here I am. I don’t think that it’s me anymore. Or at least I realize that it wasn’t me looking back.
But… I was looking for someone who was emotionally capable of… well me.
And when I found him, I just about bowled over. Because there he was… all six feet of him, looking down at me with that bemused smile crossing his face. I just about died right there.
He told me later that he felt the same thing when he saw me, that he even felt what people say they feel in the movies. I can’t help but smile when I think that perhaps, upon seeing me, his knees felt a little unsure of themselves. So, after 29 years of life, after 11 years of actually caring about what would happen in my romantic life, here I am. Whole again. Ready for whatever life will toss at me.
Hopefully.
~:~ Flashback… which is the actual story anyway…
“Hi.”
The voice was soft to my ears and perhaps a touch embarrassed or nervous but I think that I must be mistaken for who would be silly enough to be nervous when talking to a back teller?
Now, for the first time in 3 years, I am actually working in the very building where so many people associated me with in their minds. Marcy from Boston had caught a cold and had gone home sick… though I suspect that Rob from Accounting is waiting for her in her apartment with Chicken Noodle and a condom.
So here I am, filling in for her because there’s nothing else to do and then a voice greets me with nervousness and I’m curious. Either curious or overanalyzing.
And when I look up from the incredibly tedious and concentration-needing (and yes, I’m being slightly mocking. You don’t know what tedious is until you realize that you’re trapped under a metal desk in a laboratory and have to stay in your crouched and cramp-inducing position for 2 hours because the guy sitting at the desk has realized that he can’t remember where exactly he left his car keys and so has to retrace every step he has ever made starting from conception) jumble of doodles that cover the notepad, my mouth falls open. Well not literally, I hope not literally, because that would be embarrassing to say the least.
But you don’t understand. You truly do NOT understand what I was looking at. This absolutely gorgeous man was standing in front of me. I judged that he was about six feet tall, with beautiful tousled blond hair and these piercing green eyes that I couldn’t help but fall into.
“H-hi.”
Yeah.
That’s me.
That is my incredibly eloquent, sexy, seduce-me-now response to his greeting.
He said hi to me, maybe hoping that I would say something charming and witty and then he could sweep me off my feet and carry me to a plane headed for Tahiti where, upon landing, he would propose marriage and, after my acceptance, would run, laughing with me, into the perfect waves of the ocean…
… and instead received a stutter.
Maybe he thinks I’m retarded.
Great compartmentalizing. I’m the best agent ever. Keeping cool.
Smile. Smile Now.
I smile. “Hi. Can I help you?”
He smiles back (he’s so cute), and gives me an envelope. “I’d like to cash in a check.”
“Oh. Alright.”
Because of my amazingly stealthy super-spy skills, I see that his name is Michael Vaughn. It’s nice to know that I’m literate and able to read a check. And then I realize that despite my intelligence, which I think is pretty high, I have no idea how to do this. Or maybe I did but I don’t now. Spotlight on me, he’s watching me, measuring my competence… and my eyes are glued to the check, completely frozen.
I turn and grin. “I’m really sorry… it’s my first day working as a teller… this might take awhile so if you want to go to someone else-“
“That’s alright. I have time.”
I grin, a little uneasily. “Okay.”
Cashing a check is easy, cashing a check is easy.
(1) Enter the account number.
(2) Extract stated amount of money.
(3) Retrieve money.
(4) Hand it in an envelope, after recounting, to the smiling handsome man on the other side of the counter.
“Here you go.”
“Thanks.”
I’m a little over eager and, because I know that I will probably never see this man again, I allow myself to think perhaps he’s a little sad that I have finished.
He turns, pauses, and turns back. “My name’s Michael by the way.”
Grinning, I nod. “I know. Michael Vaughn.”
Despite the obvious, he has a little “blonde moment” himself (not to deprecate blondes… God knows that I’m been one enough times) and looks thoroughly confused.
“How…”
“Your check. Says your name…”
He grins. Definitely embarrassed now. SOO cute when he’s embarrassed. “Right. Bye.”
I call out to his retreating figure. “SYDNEY!” He turns. “My name is Sydney.”
He nods his head with that shy smile again and walks out of the room.
Oh dear heart.
I’m in love.
TBC…
more?
Okay, so this is out of character, alternate universe, could never happen, not very dramatic stuff.
But how was it anyway?
It’s fun to write, hopefully it’s fun to read.
Review and let me know~ love y’all.
~Jenn
~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:
Title: L.A. Connaissance
Author: Jennifer a.k.a. “Jenn”
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I wish I owned Michael Vartan but alas it is not to be… at least not in my dreams. When it IS my dreams… he’s usually waiting for me… completely salivating for me of course.
Summary: I wanted to get away from the dramatic Post “The Telling” storylines (despite the fact that I wrote one of those…) and write some light, romantic, AU, and hopefully slightly humorous.
For all the drama-ridden S/V lovers out there. This is for you as well as therapy for me.
~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~::~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:
1.
I thought that I would always be alone. It wasn’t that I had any particular physical disfigurements, any life-threatening diseases, any commitment issues, or any lack of common sense.
Or at least I hope not.
I hate to sound like the stereotypical overly-emotional female who believes that love will elude her for the rest of her life and that she will end up a spinster… but I think that there are times when you can’t help but embrace your destiny. Your fate. So here I am. I don’t think that it’s me anymore. Or at least I realize that it wasn’t me looking back.
But… I was looking for someone who was emotionally capable of… well me.
And when I found him, I just about bowled over. Because there he was… all six feet of him, looking down at me with that bemused smile crossing his face. I just about died right there.
He told me later that he felt the same thing when he saw me, that he even felt what people say they feel in the movies. I can’t help but smile when I think that perhaps, upon seeing me, his knees felt a little unsure of themselves. So, after 29 years of life, after 11 years of actually caring about what would happen in my romantic life, here I am. Whole again. Ready for whatever life will toss at me.
Hopefully.
~:~ Flashback… which is the actual story anyway…
“Hi.”
The voice was soft to my ears and perhaps a touch embarrassed or nervous but I think that I must be mistaken for who would be silly enough to be nervous when talking to a back teller?
Now, for the first time in 3 years, I am actually working in the very building where so many people associated me with in their minds. Marcy from Boston had caught a cold and had gone home sick… though I suspect that Rob from Accounting is waiting for her in her apartment with Chicken Noodle and a condom.
So here I am, filling in for her because there’s nothing else to do and then a voice greets me with nervousness and I’m curious. Either curious or overanalyzing.
And when I look up from the incredibly tedious and concentration-needing (and yes, I’m being slightly mocking. You don’t know what tedious is until you realize that you’re trapped under a metal desk in a laboratory and have to stay in your crouched and cramp-inducing position for 2 hours because the guy sitting at the desk has realized that he can’t remember where exactly he left his car keys and so has to retrace every step he has ever made starting from conception) jumble of doodles that cover the notepad, my mouth falls open. Well not literally, I hope not literally, because that would be embarrassing to say the least.
But you don’t understand. You truly do NOT understand what I was looking at. This absolutely gorgeous man was standing in front of me. I judged that he was about six feet tall, with beautiful tousled blond hair and these piercing green eyes that I couldn’t help but fall into.
“H-hi.”
Yeah.
That’s me.
That is my incredibly eloquent, sexy, seduce-me-now response to his greeting.
He said hi to me, maybe hoping that I would say something charming and witty and then he could sweep me off my feet and carry me to a plane headed for Tahiti where, upon landing, he would propose marriage and, after my acceptance, would run, laughing with me, into the perfect waves of the ocean…
… and instead received a stutter.
Maybe he thinks I’m retarded.
Great compartmentalizing. I’m the best agent ever. Keeping cool.
Smile. Smile Now.
I smile. “Hi. Can I help you?”
He smiles back (he’s so cute), and gives me an envelope. “I’d like to cash in a check.”
“Oh. Alright.”
Because of my amazingly stealthy super-spy skills, I see that his name is Michael Vaughn. It’s nice to know that I’m literate and able to read a check. And then I realize that despite my intelligence, which I think is pretty high, I have no idea how to do this. Or maybe I did but I don’t now. Spotlight on me, he’s watching me, measuring my competence… and my eyes are glued to the check, completely frozen.
I turn and grin. “I’m really sorry… it’s my first day working as a teller… this might take awhile so if you want to go to someone else-“
“That’s alright. I have time.”
I grin, a little uneasily. “Okay.”
Cashing a check is easy, cashing a check is easy.
(1) Enter the account number.
(2) Extract stated amount of money.
(3) Retrieve money.
(4) Hand it in an envelope, after recounting, to the smiling handsome man on the other side of the counter.
“Here you go.”
“Thanks.”
I’m a little over eager and, because I know that I will probably never see this man again, I allow myself to think perhaps he’s a little sad that I have finished.
He turns, pauses, and turns back. “My name’s Michael by the way.”
Grinning, I nod. “I know. Michael Vaughn.”
Despite the obvious, he has a little “blonde moment” himself (not to deprecate blondes… God knows that I’m been one enough times) and looks thoroughly confused.
“How…”
“Your check. Says your name…”
He grins. Definitely embarrassed now. SOO cute when he’s embarrassed. “Right. Bye.”
I call out to his retreating figure. “SYDNEY!” He turns. “My name is Sydney.”
He nods his head with that shy smile again and walks out of the room.
Oh dear heart.
I’m in love.
TBC…
more?
Okay, so this is out of character, alternate universe, could never happen, not very dramatic stuff.
But how was it anyway?
It’s fun to write, hopefully it’s fun to read.
Review and let me know~ love y’all.
~Jenn
