Stranger Things
Hey! Long time no see, eh? An idea just whapped me at 12:36 in the morning, so, here it is! I decided to do a one shot from Viper's POV. Yes, I hate her. But there is a depth to her character that beckoned. Besides, she's kind of unsung.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this fic. It all belongs to Jackie Chan himself, KidsWB, and/or Sony Pictures.
- - - - -
There is no city like New York. I've been to many, and only this maze of alleys and side-streets makes me feel truly at home. Maybe it's the feeling of being lost even on the busiest avenue, or the slightly gruff tell-it-like-it-is warmth of those who live here.
Or maybe cause it's in a museum right across the way that I met the man I love.
He doesn't know it, of course. I'm not even sure if I want him to.
Isn't it strange the way things work out?
I never imagined that I would end up going legit. Especially not for the reasons I did.
Not for some...guy.
Back when I was younger, I would have been disgusted at my actions now, giving up the thrills of the chase for a simple man like him.
But he's not simple. Not at all.
And it wasn't as if I wouldn't have given up crime anyway....
But it is. I had no superior. There was no thief in the world that compared to me. But I did what was right.
Remind me to do so more often. It feels nice.
Anyway, back to my point.
Jackie Chan is not simple. He's one of the most complex people I've ever met. At one turn he's stand-offish, looking down his nose at me because of what I do, and the next, he's compassionate, understanding, and...sweet.
But it's his warmth that makes me care for him the way I do. He doesn't have a mean bone in his body-even when he tries to. He's untarnished by the world around him.
That's a real rarity these days.
I grew up on the dirty streets of NYC. I ran away from home when I was 13-Let's just say I didn't have the best of families. I learned pick-pocketing within a year, but I could never be happy with just that. I began shoplifting slowly, beginning with the junky jewelry, then making my way up to the REAL heists.
I was only 17 by the time I had perfected breaking and entering.
But...
My glory days are gone now. I'm not a criminal. At least, not technically.
There are times when all I want to do is just slide that bracelet up my sleeve, feel the rush of knowing that I got away with something I shouldn't have. To know in my heart of hearts that I fooled them all.
But whenever I hear Jackie's voice, I melt.
I'm supposed to phone him tonight. He's probably worried-this will be the first time in a while that I've contacted him. The first time since Paris, actually...
I still can't believe I had the nerve to kiss his cheek like I did. After all, just a little while before he considered me nothing more than a simple ex-criminal.
But it doesn't change the fact that I did it. And it's certainly too late to take it back now.
I inhale deeply, and dial the number. I can almost feel his presence when the call goes through. Putting on my best show of bravery, I say sweetly:
"Hi there baby-face..."
We slide into conversation almost immediately. For once I don't feel the need to put on an air. He sounds genuinely happy to see me. I hope so. I can really see myself with him someday, if we ever get it out in the open.
Hey; stranger things have happened.
~*~*~*~
Not my best work, I know. But for some odd reason, I've been writing from POVS of people I dislike. My songfic 'Limp' is the other time I did so. It wasn't that bad though, was it? R and R, and ja ne!
Hey! Long time no see, eh? An idea just whapped me at 12:36 in the morning, so, here it is! I decided to do a one shot from Viper's POV. Yes, I hate her. But there is a depth to her character that beckoned. Besides, she's kind of unsung.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this fic. It all belongs to Jackie Chan himself, KidsWB, and/or Sony Pictures.
- - - - -
There is no city like New York. I've been to many, and only this maze of alleys and side-streets makes me feel truly at home. Maybe it's the feeling of being lost even on the busiest avenue, or the slightly gruff tell-it-like-it-is warmth of those who live here.
Or maybe cause it's in a museum right across the way that I met the man I love.
He doesn't know it, of course. I'm not even sure if I want him to.
Isn't it strange the way things work out?
I never imagined that I would end up going legit. Especially not for the reasons I did.
Not for some...guy.
Back when I was younger, I would have been disgusted at my actions now, giving up the thrills of the chase for a simple man like him.
But he's not simple. Not at all.
And it wasn't as if I wouldn't have given up crime anyway....
But it is. I had no superior. There was no thief in the world that compared to me. But I did what was right.
Remind me to do so more often. It feels nice.
Anyway, back to my point.
Jackie Chan is not simple. He's one of the most complex people I've ever met. At one turn he's stand-offish, looking down his nose at me because of what I do, and the next, he's compassionate, understanding, and...sweet.
But it's his warmth that makes me care for him the way I do. He doesn't have a mean bone in his body-even when he tries to. He's untarnished by the world around him.
That's a real rarity these days.
I grew up on the dirty streets of NYC. I ran away from home when I was 13-Let's just say I didn't have the best of families. I learned pick-pocketing within a year, but I could never be happy with just that. I began shoplifting slowly, beginning with the junky jewelry, then making my way up to the REAL heists.
I was only 17 by the time I had perfected breaking and entering.
But...
My glory days are gone now. I'm not a criminal. At least, not technically.
There are times when all I want to do is just slide that bracelet up my sleeve, feel the rush of knowing that I got away with something I shouldn't have. To know in my heart of hearts that I fooled them all.
But whenever I hear Jackie's voice, I melt.
I'm supposed to phone him tonight. He's probably worried-this will be the first time in a while that I've contacted him. The first time since Paris, actually...
I still can't believe I had the nerve to kiss his cheek like I did. After all, just a little while before he considered me nothing more than a simple ex-criminal.
But it doesn't change the fact that I did it. And it's certainly too late to take it back now.
I inhale deeply, and dial the number. I can almost feel his presence when the call goes through. Putting on my best show of bravery, I say sweetly:
"Hi there baby-face..."
We slide into conversation almost immediately. For once I don't feel the need to put on an air. He sounds genuinely happy to see me. I hope so. I can really see myself with him someday, if we ever get it out in the open.
Hey; stranger things have happened.
~*~*~*~
Not my best work, I know. But for some odd reason, I've been writing from POVS of people I dislike. My songfic 'Limp' is the other time I did so. It wasn't that bad though, was it? R and R, and ja ne!
