Nightmare Girl. Alias. R. Sydney/Lauren.
Title: Nightmare Girl.
Author: lafemmedarla
Recipient: smut_queen
Fandom: Alias
Pairing: Sydney Bristow/Lauren Reed
Rating: R
Word count: 1180
Disclaimer: Not my characters.
Summary: And yet sometimes, Lauren not only wants Sydney Briwstow. She wants to be Sydney Bristow.
Written for femslash07
Lauren remembers one particular time she saw Sydney outside CIA headquarters. The pretty brunette was wearing cream slacks and a light green top. Her hair fell over her face is soft, gentle waves. She looked delicate, sweet. The kind of girl a boy took to meet his parents. The kind of girl boys married…that is, if the girl wasn’t presumed dead and the boy ended up marrying the next best thing.
There’s nothing sweet or delicate about the Sydney of Lauren’s nightmares. This Sydney is all about the impossibly tight leather (Lauren could swear Sydney once wore something like on an assignment to Essen. Or was it Rome?). Sydney’s lips are glossy with cherry red lipstick, the pink tongue sneaking out just a little. Such a dark, dangerous vision.
It shouldn’t be attractive at all. Lauren shouldn’t enjoy watching this woman smile seductively, hands running over her body. She also shouldn’t enjoy starting these dreams with a punch to Sydney’s face, but Lauren can live with tat one punch.
“Has anyone told you hit like a girl?” Sydney asks, wiping the blood away from her mouth and looking up. Such a cliché thing to say and yet it works for Sydney.
Lauren says nothing. Sydney holds a hand towards the blonde woman. When Lauren makes no effort to move Sydney can’t help but roll her eyes. “You’re just delaying the inevitable, Lauren. And may I remind whose dream this is?”
“Just shut up,” Lauren says as she reaches out, helps Sydney to her feet. Then Lauren spins her around, pushes her up against the wall. Their first kiss is brutal, teeth and tongues clashing, Lauren is the one to break the kiss, hands reaching out, finding Sydney’s throat and squeezing as hard as they can. Despite the killing pressure, Sydney’s voice is perfectly clear.
“Oh, but where is the fun in that?”
Lauren hates that voice. She hates everything about Sydney: the good
The Amazing Sydney Bristow! She of the heroic missions and the Rambladi Prophecies. Lauren will never be Sydney.
The bad
He loves Sydney. Two years and one wife later and he still loves her. Does he think of Sydney while making love to Lauren?
And the ugly
Of all the women in the world, Lauren has to dream about Fucking. Sydney. Bristow.
And yet sometimes, Lauren wonder if things would be easier if she were Sydney Bristow. She could be the Good Sydney, the one Vaugh loves, the one that saved the world on a daily basis and who got the love and devotion of Michael Vaughn. Or she could be Bad Sydney, the Sydney of her nightmares; dangerously beautiful, bent on total domination and able to get man or woman she desires with just a smile.
Yes, sometimes, Lauren not only wants Sydney Briwstow. She wants to be Sydney Bristow.
But more than anything right now, Lauren wants to smash Sydney’s head against the wall until it breaks and Sydney Bristow is dead and gone for real. Of course, killing Nightmare Sydney isn’t gonna keep Real Sydney from screwing up Lauren’s life. But it would sure feel good.
Too bad this Sydney has other plans.
Al it takes is a head butt and a swift kick to send Lauren to the floor. Then Sydney is straddling Lauren, leaning closer, her breath so warm against the blonde’s cheek and Lauren hates herself just a little for loving it.
“Is killing you, isn’t it?” Sydney says, licking Lauren’s cheek. “No matter how good you are, no matter how bad you are, no matter who Daddy is… I still win.”
Despite everything, Lauren manages a chuckle. “No you don’t. You know Michael…”
“Will never leave you?” Sydney laughs. “You don’t really believe that. Do you?”
Lauren’s reply is cut short by another kiss. Against her best judgement, her hands tangle on chestnut hair and her body arches into the one above her. One hand snakes under Lauren’s skirt, reaching between parted thighs and finding aroused flesh to tease and enjoy.
In a perfect world, maybe this would be a reality. No more masks, no more acts. Just Lauren being herself, Sydney at her side. That would show Michael and everybody else.
Clothes are soon discarded in a messy heap, lips and hands exploring this newfound bare bodies, nails digging hand enough to leave half moon marks on pale, perfect skin. Theirs is a restless coupling, raw and hard, a fight for dominance without a clear winner in sight. Even Sydney, in all her “I’m the best one” attitute seems to be melt at times when Lauren applies a few well chosen flicks of the thumb here and a little nibbling over there...
Sydney moans and buries her head between Lauren’s breasts. Fuck yeah.
Their hands quicken their pace, an angry battle to see gets the other off first. Sysney wins this one, her nails scraping hot flesh and making Lauren scream and see stars. Memories are fuzzy afterwards, but Lauren knows she never stops moving. For soon Sydney throws her head back and calls out a name as she comes.
Is never Lauren’s name.
Afterwards, Sydney stands up and walks away, stretching lazily. “You are such a sick, sick girl.”
Lauren follows. “Of course I am,” she says, her hands wrapping around the other woman’s waist. She kisses Sydney’s ear, her neck, her shoulder. Sydney closes her eyes and purrs.
Lauren doesn’t feel sorry about what comes next. She doesn’t even question how the knife comes into her hand at that exact same time.
Sydney only groans and her eyes widen a little when the knife plunges in her back. She tries to reach out for Lauren but the blonde takes a step back to admire her work.
Such a beautiful sight this blood. Pouring down Sydney’s back, over her clothes, pooling at her feet. She should be lying on the floor, writhing in agony. Instead she stands in front of Lauren, predator grin even a she bleeds to death.
Yes, Lauren thinks with a smile. Just when Miss Bristow thinks she can trust Mrs. Vaughn...
Someday, Lauren Reed, Mrs. Michael Vaughn, will be part of something bigger, something powerful. And when the time comes, when Sydney Bristow least expects it, the knife will be real.
She doesn’t notice Sydney has gone the distance between them until she feels one bloody hand on her shoulders and the dying breath on her ear. She doesn’t see it but knows the bloody knife is being raised by the other hand, ready for the killing blow.
“Enjoy this while you can,” Sydney says, oh so sweetly even in death. “You and I both know how this is really going to end when the time comes.”
This is Lauren’s cue to wake up, soaked in sweat despite the cool temperature of the bedroom, sheets tangled around her ankles.
And she just lies in bed, catching her breath and relieving every single detail of her dream.
Except for the ending. No matter what the girl of her nightmares says, Lauren is gonna make things go her way when the time comes.
Author: lafemmedarla
Recipient: smut_queen
Fandom: Alias
Pairing: Sydney Bristow/Lauren Reed
Rating: R
Word count: 1180
Disclaimer: Not my characters.
Summary: And yet sometimes, Lauren not only wants Sydney Briwstow. She wants to be Sydney Bristow.
Written for femslash07
Lauren remembers one particular time she saw Sydney outside CIA headquarters. The pretty brunette was wearing cream slacks and a light green top. Her hair fell over her face is soft, gentle waves. She looked delicate, sweet. The kind of girl a boy took to meet his parents. The kind of girl boys married…that is, if the girl wasn’t presumed dead and the boy ended up marrying the next best thing.
There’s nothing sweet or delicate about the Sydney of Lauren’s nightmares. This Sydney is all about the impossibly tight leather (Lauren could swear Sydney once wore something like on an assignment to Essen. Or was it Rome?). Sydney’s lips are glossy with cherry red lipstick, the pink tongue sneaking out just a little. Such a dark, dangerous vision.
It shouldn’t be attractive at all. Lauren shouldn’t enjoy watching this woman smile seductively, hands running over her body. She also shouldn’t enjoy starting these dreams with a punch to Sydney’s face, but Lauren can live with tat one punch.
“Has anyone told you hit like a girl?” Sydney asks, wiping the blood away from her mouth and looking up. Such a cliché thing to say and yet it works for Sydney.
Lauren says nothing. Sydney holds a hand towards the blonde woman. When Lauren makes no effort to move Sydney can’t help but roll her eyes. “You’re just delaying the inevitable, Lauren. And may I remind whose dream this is?”
“Just shut up,” Lauren says as she reaches out, helps Sydney to her feet. Then Lauren spins her around, pushes her up against the wall. Their first kiss is brutal, teeth and tongues clashing, Lauren is the one to break the kiss, hands reaching out, finding Sydney’s throat and squeezing as hard as they can. Despite the killing pressure, Sydney’s voice is perfectly clear.
“Oh, but where is the fun in that?”
Lauren hates that voice. She hates everything about Sydney: the good
The Amazing Sydney Bristow! She of the heroic missions and the Rambladi Prophecies. Lauren will never be Sydney.
The bad
He loves Sydney. Two years and one wife later and he still loves her. Does he think of Sydney while making love to Lauren?
And the ugly
Of all the women in the world, Lauren has to dream about Fucking. Sydney. Bristow.
And yet sometimes, Lauren wonder if things would be easier if she were Sydney Bristow. She could be the Good Sydney, the one Vaugh loves, the one that saved the world on a daily basis and who got the love and devotion of Michael Vaughn. Or she could be Bad Sydney, the Sydney of her nightmares; dangerously beautiful, bent on total domination and able to get man or woman she desires with just a smile.
Yes, sometimes, Lauren not only wants Sydney Briwstow. She wants to be Sydney Bristow.
But more than anything right now, Lauren wants to smash Sydney’s head against the wall until it breaks and Sydney Bristow is dead and gone for real. Of course, killing Nightmare Sydney isn’t gonna keep Real Sydney from screwing up Lauren’s life. But it would sure feel good.
Too bad this Sydney has other plans.
Al it takes is a head butt and a swift kick to send Lauren to the floor. Then Sydney is straddling Lauren, leaning closer, her breath so warm against the blonde’s cheek and Lauren hates herself just a little for loving it.
“Is killing you, isn’t it?” Sydney says, licking Lauren’s cheek. “No matter how good you are, no matter how bad you are, no matter who Daddy is… I still win.”
Despite everything, Lauren manages a chuckle. “No you don’t. You know Michael…”
“Will never leave you?” Sydney laughs. “You don’t really believe that. Do you?”
Lauren’s reply is cut short by another kiss. Against her best judgement, her hands tangle on chestnut hair and her body arches into the one above her. One hand snakes under Lauren’s skirt, reaching between parted thighs and finding aroused flesh to tease and enjoy.
In a perfect world, maybe this would be a reality. No more masks, no more acts. Just Lauren being herself, Sydney at her side. That would show Michael and everybody else.
Clothes are soon discarded in a messy heap, lips and hands exploring this newfound bare bodies, nails digging hand enough to leave half moon marks on pale, perfect skin. Theirs is a restless coupling, raw and hard, a fight for dominance without a clear winner in sight. Even Sydney, in all her “I’m the best one” attitute seems to be melt at times when Lauren applies a few well chosen flicks of the thumb here and a little nibbling over there...
Sydney moans and buries her head between Lauren’s breasts. Fuck yeah.
Their hands quicken their pace, an angry battle to see gets the other off first. Sysney wins this one, her nails scraping hot flesh and making Lauren scream and see stars. Memories are fuzzy afterwards, but Lauren knows she never stops moving. For soon Sydney throws her head back and calls out a name as she comes.
Is never Lauren’s name.
Afterwards, Sydney stands up and walks away, stretching lazily. “You are such a sick, sick girl.”
Lauren follows. “Of course I am,” she says, her hands wrapping around the other woman’s waist. She kisses Sydney’s ear, her neck, her shoulder. Sydney closes her eyes and purrs.
Lauren doesn’t feel sorry about what comes next. She doesn’t even question how the knife comes into her hand at that exact same time.
Sydney only groans and her eyes widen a little when the knife plunges in her back. She tries to reach out for Lauren but the blonde takes a step back to admire her work.
Such a beautiful sight this blood. Pouring down Sydney’s back, over her clothes, pooling at her feet. She should be lying on the floor, writhing in agony. Instead she stands in front of Lauren, predator grin even a she bleeds to death.
Yes, Lauren thinks with a smile. Just when Miss Bristow thinks she can trust Mrs. Vaughn...
Someday, Lauren Reed, Mrs. Michael Vaughn, will be part of something bigger, something powerful. And when the time comes, when Sydney Bristow least expects it, the knife will be real.
She doesn’t notice Sydney has gone the distance between them until she feels one bloody hand on her shoulders and the dying breath on her ear. She doesn’t see it but knows the bloody knife is being raised by the other hand, ready for the killing blow.
“Enjoy this while you can,” Sydney says, oh so sweetly even in death. “You and I both know how this is really going to end when the time comes.”
This is Lauren’s cue to wake up, soaked in sweat despite the cool temperature of the bedroom, sheets tangled around her ankles.
And she just lies in bed, catching her breath and relieving every single detail of her dream.
Except for the ending. No matter what the girl of her nightmares says, Lauren is gonna make things go her way when the time comes.