SpygirlAmy
Cadet
aww that was great!
cant wait for more
cant wait for more
That Summer
- Thread starter SkyGirl5
- Start date
fieldstation
Cadet
why did sydney suddenly come to her home town? weird. :lol:
gtwallichs
Cadet
Excellent update!
farliieansds225
Cadet
Syd4Vaughn
Cadet
Ohh I sense love in the air
great update
great update
Michael_Vartan_Rocks
Cadet
yay shes staying with him
AliasSydney502
Cadet
haha, ride. :naughty:
sorry, it just came off dirty.
great update! syd's staying with him, thats so cute.
sorry, it just came off dirty.
great update! syd's staying with him, thats so cute.
vaughn4eva24
Cadet
OOO she is going to stay the night
Addicted 2 Alias
Cadet
and they lived happily ever after...
?
haha i can try
?
haha i can try
mbellsdiva
Cadet
I figured the accent would return. That happens to people quite often.
I'm glad they actually talked and she is going to stay wih him.
I'm glad they actually talked and she is going to stay wih him.
scullymulder1234
Cadet
Tsk tsk. What will the townsfolk think? lol. Anyway....wonderful job! I love it.
SkyGirl5
Cadet
Chapter 5
“Michael, are you sure you don’t mind me staying?” she asked for what seemed like the hundredth time. She gave me a very concerned look as she lifted her second piece of luggage out of her trunk and placed it on the ground beside her car.
“Seriously,” I said, hoisting up the bag. “It’s fine. I insist that you stay. Besides, really, you’ll be doing me a favor. My house gets rather lonely at night and it’s nice to have some company.”
“Well, in that case, I’m glad to be of service,” she smiled. I smiled back. Then, I made sure I had a firm grip on her luggage before carrying it towards the house. She must have either packed everything she had or owned abnormally heavy luggage because I was practically dying carrying those bags. It must have showed, too, because she asked, “Are you alright?”
“Fine,” I grunted, though I was beginning to wish she had parked closer to the house.
“Always the gentlemen, Michael. Your mama’d be proud,” she smiled when she passed me. She then jogged to the door and held it open so I could get inside.
“Thanks,” I told her. “You’re right, she would be proud… that she whipped it into me.” Really, my mom never whipped me (although she did give me a few rather nasty verbal lashings when, on occasion, I’d slip out of my ‘gentlemanly’ behavior), but Sydney smiled at this anyway.
“You want me to carry these straight upstairs?” I asked her, gesturing towards the steps with one of the heavy black bags. She gave a single nod and I began to trudge up the stairs, suffering less since I was out of the beating sun but still struggling since I was, in fact, going up.
“You have a guest bedroom?” she asked.
I laughed softly at her tone. “I love that you sound shocked I’ve actually managed to keep a roof on the place.”
“NO! No, of course not!” she said adamantly. “I just didn’t peg you as the type that would keep a guest room completely prepared with those fancy little soap things and lace curtains.”
I had no idea what ‘soap things’ she was talking about and, while there are lace curtains, they belonged to my mama and are, thus, not my doing. “Not quite. I just kept my mama’s room pretty much the same,” I told her.
Sydney’s never really been upstairs in my house, at least not that I can remember, so I led the way down the hall towards the main bedroom. I put her things down at the foot of the bed with a groan, glad to have that weight off. “So… this is it. You need anything?” I asked.
She shakes her head as she looks around. “You still sleep in your childhood room?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, I just didn’t have the heart to move mama’s stuff out yet, you know?”
She nodded. “Yeah, same way with my father’s stuff. I just… I don’t know what to do with it, but… I’ll deal with it tomorrow I suppose.”
For a moment, I almost took the mention of her father as a door opening into that conversation. Then, I realized that bringing up such a subject would have been entirely rude and ungentlemanly of me, so the best course of action was to forget that comment was ever made and continue on with our conversation. “Right, so, if you need anything you can let me know. I can make us dinner if you like; I got food.”
“Dinner sounds nice, but I think I’m going to take a little nap first. I’m kinda tired,” she said. I nodded to her before backing out of the room, closing the door behind me.
I walked downstairs and stood in my kitchen for a few moments, wondering what exactly I had gotten myself in to. Sydney Bristow was upstairs sleeping in my mama’s former bedroom. How did that happen exactly?
Oh. Right. I’m a gentleman. But what exactly was I going to do with her? I mean, in theory, I had created a very awkward situation. For starters, she was a woman and I a man. Two people of different genders platonically sharing a house was bound to cause a few tense moments between us. Not to mention it was probably only a matter of minutes before neighbors began showing up on my doorstep wondering about her. Then, once they found out she was staying here – oh boy look out. Not only would the rumor mill be buzzing about the apparently estranged Bristow daughter who didn’t have the sense to show up at her father’s funeral, but they’d be all a twitter about the fact that, obviously, behind these closed doors we were having a heated affair. Obviously.
I shook my head and made my way to the refrigerator to decide on what dinner would be. There was no sense in worrying ‘bout that, at least not then anyway. One step at a time – that was the motto around those parts and I needed to stick with it.
Forty-five minutes later, just as dinner was well on its way to being done, Sydney appeared at the foot of the stairs, yawning. “Good nap?” I asked her.
“Very,” she nodded. “Your mama’s bed is very comfy.”
“’m glad to hear it. I’m also glad to hear your southern way of speakin’ has returned,” I told her, smiling.
She laughed softly, flashing me a dimpled grin in the process. “That reminds me of a story I think you might enjoy, but first – can I help you with somethin’?” she asked, gesturing towards the stove and cutting board beside it.
“Of course not, you’re a guest. Besides, I’m nearly done,” I told her. “Can I get you something to drink? I’ve got water, lemonade, and tea… I’m afraid that’s all.”
“Some mint tea would be nice, if you have it,” she said. I confirm that I did indeed have it and she thanked me before continuing on the story she mentioned a moment earlier. Apparently, her roommate freshmen year in college wasn’t exactly the sharpest tool in the shed. She was a blonde wealthy girl from the north, who, apparently, had never heard of Alabama. Well, she had heard of it, but couldn’t figure out where it was and had a dreadful time understanding… well, everything about the way Sydney behaved. In addition to that, she thought Sydney’s southern drawl accent was some sort of disease of the throat.
By the time she had finished her tale, I was laughing painfully. “She thought it was a disease?!”
“Absolutely,” Sydney said, also laughing. “She kept asking if I wanted throat lozenges.”
“That’s bad. I had a similar, but opposite experience,” I told her. She looked intrigued so I continued on. “Well, my first roommate was from the north, so not only was he getting used to my ‘weirdness,’” I said with air quotes, “as he called it, but he was getting used to the whole southern atmosphere. He lasted a total of three weeks before he called his parents and they came and took him home,” I told her.
“You’re kidding!” she gasped, surprised. I shook my head. I was not kidding, although even I could hardly believe it at the time. “That’s nuts!”
“Yeah, but he was pretty unhappy. In fact, I think at one point he was crying,” I said, cringing slightly. I really did feel bad for the poor guy. Sydney cringed slightly, giving a sympathetic sigh.
Through dinner, we amused each other with a few more roommate horror stories. Then, after she helped me clean up, she retired back to my mama’s room, saying there was some legal papers she needed to review before going to bed. I bid her goodnight and organized some of my things before sitting myself down in front of the TV, where I would inevitably fall asleep, wondering what the rest of the weekend would bring me.
“Michael, are you sure you don’t mind me staying?” she asked for what seemed like the hundredth time. She gave me a very concerned look as she lifted her second piece of luggage out of her trunk and placed it on the ground beside her car.
“Seriously,” I said, hoisting up the bag. “It’s fine. I insist that you stay. Besides, really, you’ll be doing me a favor. My house gets rather lonely at night and it’s nice to have some company.”
“Well, in that case, I’m glad to be of service,” she smiled. I smiled back. Then, I made sure I had a firm grip on her luggage before carrying it towards the house. She must have either packed everything she had or owned abnormally heavy luggage because I was practically dying carrying those bags. It must have showed, too, because she asked, “Are you alright?”
“Fine,” I grunted, though I was beginning to wish she had parked closer to the house.
“Always the gentlemen, Michael. Your mama’d be proud,” she smiled when she passed me. She then jogged to the door and held it open so I could get inside.
“Thanks,” I told her. “You’re right, she would be proud… that she whipped it into me.” Really, my mom never whipped me (although she did give me a few rather nasty verbal lashings when, on occasion, I’d slip out of my ‘gentlemanly’ behavior), but Sydney smiled at this anyway.
“You want me to carry these straight upstairs?” I asked her, gesturing towards the steps with one of the heavy black bags. She gave a single nod and I began to trudge up the stairs, suffering less since I was out of the beating sun but still struggling since I was, in fact, going up.
“You have a guest bedroom?” she asked.
I laughed softly at her tone. “I love that you sound shocked I’ve actually managed to keep a roof on the place.”
“NO! No, of course not!” she said adamantly. “I just didn’t peg you as the type that would keep a guest room completely prepared with those fancy little soap things and lace curtains.”
I had no idea what ‘soap things’ she was talking about and, while there are lace curtains, they belonged to my mama and are, thus, not my doing. “Not quite. I just kept my mama’s room pretty much the same,” I told her.
Sydney’s never really been upstairs in my house, at least not that I can remember, so I led the way down the hall towards the main bedroom. I put her things down at the foot of the bed with a groan, glad to have that weight off. “So… this is it. You need anything?” I asked.
She shakes her head as she looks around. “You still sleep in your childhood room?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, I just didn’t have the heart to move mama’s stuff out yet, you know?”
She nodded. “Yeah, same way with my father’s stuff. I just… I don’t know what to do with it, but… I’ll deal with it tomorrow I suppose.”
For a moment, I almost took the mention of her father as a door opening into that conversation. Then, I realized that bringing up such a subject would have been entirely rude and ungentlemanly of me, so the best course of action was to forget that comment was ever made and continue on with our conversation. “Right, so, if you need anything you can let me know. I can make us dinner if you like; I got food.”
“Dinner sounds nice, but I think I’m going to take a little nap first. I’m kinda tired,” she said. I nodded to her before backing out of the room, closing the door behind me.
I walked downstairs and stood in my kitchen for a few moments, wondering what exactly I had gotten myself in to. Sydney Bristow was upstairs sleeping in my mama’s former bedroom. How did that happen exactly?
Oh. Right. I’m a gentleman. But what exactly was I going to do with her? I mean, in theory, I had created a very awkward situation. For starters, she was a woman and I a man. Two people of different genders platonically sharing a house was bound to cause a few tense moments between us. Not to mention it was probably only a matter of minutes before neighbors began showing up on my doorstep wondering about her. Then, once they found out she was staying here – oh boy look out. Not only would the rumor mill be buzzing about the apparently estranged Bristow daughter who didn’t have the sense to show up at her father’s funeral, but they’d be all a twitter about the fact that, obviously, behind these closed doors we were having a heated affair. Obviously.
I shook my head and made my way to the refrigerator to decide on what dinner would be. There was no sense in worrying ‘bout that, at least not then anyway. One step at a time – that was the motto around those parts and I needed to stick with it.
Forty-five minutes later, just as dinner was well on its way to being done, Sydney appeared at the foot of the stairs, yawning. “Good nap?” I asked her.
“Very,” she nodded. “Your mama’s bed is very comfy.”
“’m glad to hear it. I’m also glad to hear your southern way of speakin’ has returned,” I told her, smiling.
She laughed softly, flashing me a dimpled grin in the process. “That reminds me of a story I think you might enjoy, but first – can I help you with somethin’?” she asked, gesturing towards the stove and cutting board beside it.
“Of course not, you’re a guest. Besides, I’m nearly done,” I told her. “Can I get you something to drink? I’ve got water, lemonade, and tea… I’m afraid that’s all.”
“Some mint tea would be nice, if you have it,” she said. I confirm that I did indeed have it and she thanked me before continuing on the story she mentioned a moment earlier. Apparently, her roommate freshmen year in college wasn’t exactly the sharpest tool in the shed. She was a blonde wealthy girl from the north, who, apparently, had never heard of Alabama. Well, she had heard of it, but couldn’t figure out where it was and had a dreadful time understanding… well, everything about the way Sydney behaved. In addition to that, she thought Sydney’s southern drawl accent was some sort of disease of the throat.
By the time she had finished her tale, I was laughing painfully. “She thought it was a disease?!”
“Absolutely,” Sydney said, also laughing. “She kept asking if I wanted throat lozenges.”
“That’s bad. I had a similar, but opposite experience,” I told her. She looked intrigued so I continued on. “Well, my first roommate was from the north, so not only was he getting used to my ‘weirdness,’” I said with air quotes, “as he called it, but he was getting used to the whole southern atmosphere. He lasted a total of three weeks before he called his parents and they came and took him home,” I told her.
“You’re kidding!” she gasped, surprised. I shook my head. I was not kidding, although even I could hardly believe it at the time. “That’s nuts!”
“Yeah, but he was pretty unhappy. In fact, I think at one point he was crying,” I said, cringing slightly. I really did feel bad for the poor guy. Sydney cringed slightly, giving a sympathetic sigh.
Through dinner, we amused each other with a few more roommate horror stories. Then, after she helped me clean up, she retired back to my mama’s room, saying there was some legal papers she needed to review before going to bed. I bid her goodnight and organized some of my things before sitting myself down in front of the TV, where I would inevitably fall asleep, wondering what the rest of the weekend would bring me.
Spydrummer06
Cadet
It shall definitely be an interesting weekend for them.
I wanna know why she didn't go to her dad's funeral still.
Great update
I wanna know why she didn't go to her dad's funeral still.
Great update
texasalias2004
Cadet
Michael is being such a gentleman. Great update. Thanks
texasalias
texasalias
Chicketepee
Cadet
love it
can't wait for the rumours to start
i wonder why syd didn't come back for her dad's funeral tho
thanks for the update
can't wait for more
luv Chicketepee ^_^
can't wait for the rumours to start
i wonder why syd didn't come back for her dad's funeral tho
thanks for the update
can't wait for more
luv Chicketepee ^_^