Well, we have reached the end of the week soooo today I bring you the tried and true Friday Free For All. This is the time when you can request that one story that just didn't seem to fit in with a prompt during the week. Maybe you are jonesing for a story from a forgotten fandom. Maybe you are just craving a crossover. Go ahead and promt it.
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Fancy
She’d crafted her persona - personas - well, so very well over the years. No one would ever guess that she was really just white trash from New Orleans. No one would ever suspect that her name was really Fanny Rae Baker, not Annie Croix, Sophie Devereaux, Charlotte Prentiss the Duchess of Hanover, nor any of those other people she has “been.”
No, the only person who could ever suspect is the one person who doesn’t remember because he’d been so little when she’d left, when Mama had made her go out into the world to make her fortune by any means necessary.
“Just be nice to the gentlemen, Fancy, and they’ll be nice to you,” she’d said to her as she combed her long, dark hair and made her up and dressed her in the red velvet dress with a slit up to her hip that had been bought with the last of the money ( ... )
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He looks around her apartment (flat, the British part of her brain automatically corrects) and says, “Fancy,” as if in an off-hand comment on the decor.
And then there he is checking out her reaction.
Sophie completes the charade. She walks over to the window and opens it. “There’s a bakery nearby. I just love the smell of fresh-baked bread in the morning. Something about the sun’s rays mixing with that smell ( ... )
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Sophie smiles softly. “But she’s in here somewhere. I pull her out once in a while to air. A scared, half-grown woman-child, going out into the big world, leaving everything familiar behind her.”
“Sounds like the beginning of an adventure,” Eliot remarks.
“Oh, it was,” Sophie says, “It was. Do you want to hear about it?”
“No tall tales now,” Eliot warns, and seats himself on her sofa.
“I would never!” protests Sophie, his...Aunt Fancy.
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