Email: jch114@hotmail.com
Website: none at this time
Feedback: Yes, this is my first POV fan fiction. I'm looking forward to some feedback; give me some constructive criticism if needed.
Distribution: I don't mind, but please email me and tell me the web address of your archival site
Disclaimer: Francie, Will, Charlie, Sydney, anything Alias related is the property of Touchstone, JJ Abrams, Bad Robot Productions, ABC. I don't own any of this at all. Don't sue me.
Summary: This is about a potential romance between Francie and Will. CONTAINS SPOILERS. If you have read Wanda from E Online's spoiler in regards to the Vegas episode, you get where I am going with this. If you haven't, this is the basic idea. Charlie's singing wasn't the only secret he was keeping from Francie.
A/N: Anything you see in italics is Francie or Will thinking to themselves. I know that these are short, but there is a method to my madness. Either way, I hope everyone is enjoying this. [b]Francie and Will are not hooking up right now while they are in Vegas. Yes they will hook up, but not now. [/b] If this sucks, tell me. Constructive Criticism is welcomed.
Rating: PG-13 for language, will change from Chapter to Chapter
I'm right on schedule for the seafood buffet. [I] Charlie and I used to… [/I][I] Stop it Francie, there is no 'Charlie and I' anymore. [/I] It may be only 10:45, but I'm craving crab legs. Sighing loudly, I wander over to the table. I'm so engrossed in the selection of my crab legs that I don't even hear someone walk up behind me.
"Francie?"
[I] Shit, Charlie [b]again.[/b] [/I]
"What do you want?" I say to him without turning around to face him. The selection of crab legs deems more important.
"Do you think we could talk?"
"What is there to talk about? You lied to me. My best friend knew before I did. End of story."
"You don't seem to be inebriated right now, so I figured you would be more receptive to my explanation."
"Inebriated? Why can't you just say I was drunk last night?" I say to him with my back turned, still very much engrossed in selecting crab legs. There's shrimp too.
"I didn't want to embarrass you further."
"Embarrass me further? I'm already there."
He puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes gently. My shoulder is a part of my body that is my weakest spot, some people are turned on by kisses to the neck-squeeze my shoulder gently, and I might marry you. "Francie? Please?" he says to me lowering his voice.
"Let me get some silverware, and I'll be right there".
When I finally get to the table and sit down, he's actually looking remorseful about his infidelity. [I] Amazing. [/I]
"So talk. What can you explain that would be so different from last night?"
He starts to get into his explanation about what happened. About five minutes in, I tune him out, nodding yes or no to his statements casually. I'll be damned if he commands any of my attention completely. [I] Wait a minute; he just said something that I should have heard. [/I]
"What did you just say to me?"
"What I said, Francie, is that if you had been there for me when I needed you the most, I wouldn't have gone out with him. I need companionship, and simply put you weren't there."
[I] Simply put? [/I] [I] Needed companionship? [/I]
I look at him and I feel the tears starting to form again. [I]Damn him. He will not see me cry. [/I], "You son of a bitch. You're actually blaming me for your mistake?"
Charlie looks at me with a smug look on his face. [I] Screw this. [/I] I reach across the table and slap him. Damn, that felt good.
"You son of bitch." I say again, barely containing my anger.
The waitress comes over the table cautiously. I gather by her slow movements, she's heard about my little tirade last night at the bar.
"Is everything okay over here?"
I look up at her, "Yes, everything is just peachy. Right, Charlie?"
He looks at me evilly, if looks could kill, I'd be dead and buried right here.
I have to get out of here. "Excuse me, could I get some of this to go? I know that it isn't policy, but I fear the company I'm keeping right now is making me lose my appetite."
The waitress looks at me and then looks back at Charlie, and smiles. She probably thinks that we are just having a lover's quarrel. "No problem, I'll be back with a to-go container for you."
"I don't know what's worse, the fact that you lied to me, or the fact that you actually have to nerve blame me for this mess that you have created."
"I was going to wait until we got back to L.A. to give you this back" I say to him twisting the ring off of my finger. "Now I just find it constricting." The waitress hands me the container as I stand up. "Go to hell, Charlie." I say as I walk away tossing the engagement ring at him.
Website: none at this time
Feedback: Yes, this is my first POV fan fiction. I'm looking forward to some feedback; give me some constructive criticism if needed.
Distribution: I don't mind, but please email me and tell me the web address of your archival site
Disclaimer: Francie, Will, Charlie, Sydney, anything Alias related is the property of Touchstone, JJ Abrams, Bad Robot Productions, ABC. I don't own any of this at all. Don't sue me.
Summary: This is about a potential romance between Francie and Will. CONTAINS SPOILERS. If you have read Wanda from E Online's spoiler in regards to the Vegas episode, you get where I am going with this. If you haven't, this is the basic idea. Charlie's singing wasn't the only secret he was keeping from Francie.
A/N: Anything you see in italics is Francie or Will thinking to themselves. I know that these are short, but there is a method to my madness. Either way, I hope everyone is enjoying this. [b]Francie and Will are not hooking up right now while they are in Vegas. Yes they will hook up, but not now. [/b] If this sucks, tell me. Constructive Criticism is welcomed.
Rating: PG-13 for language, will change from Chapter to Chapter
I'm right on schedule for the seafood buffet. [I] Charlie and I used to… [/I][I] Stop it Francie, there is no 'Charlie and I' anymore. [/I] It may be only 10:45, but I'm craving crab legs. Sighing loudly, I wander over to the table. I'm so engrossed in the selection of my crab legs that I don't even hear someone walk up behind me.
"Francie?"
[I] Shit, Charlie [b]again.[/b] [/I]
"What do you want?" I say to him without turning around to face him. The selection of crab legs deems more important.
"Do you think we could talk?"
"What is there to talk about? You lied to me. My best friend knew before I did. End of story."
"You don't seem to be inebriated right now, so I figured you would be more receptive to my explanation."
"Inebriated? Why can't you just say I was drunk last night?" I say to him with my back turned, still very much engrossed in selecting crab legs. There's shrimp too.
"I didn't want to embarrass you further."
"Embarrass me further? I'm already there."
He puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes gently. My shoulder is a part of my body that is my weakest spot, some people are turned on by kisses to the neck-squeeze my shoulder gently, and I might marry you. "Francie? Please?" he says to me lowering his voice.
"Let me get some silverware, and I'll be right there".
When I finally get to the table and sit down, he's actually looking remorseful about his infidelity. [I] Amazing. [/I]
"So talk. What can you explain that would be so different from last night?"
He starts to get into his explanation about what happened. About five minutes in, I tune him out, nodding yes or no to his statements casually. I'll be damned if he commands any of my attention completely. [I] Wait a minute; he just said something that I should have heard. [/I]
"What did you just say to me?"
"What I said, Francie, is that if you had been there for me when I needed you the most, I wouldn't have gone out with him. I need companionship, and simply put you weren't there."
[I] Simply put? [/I] [I] Needed companionship? [/I]
I look at him and I feel the tears starting to form again. [I]Damn him. He will not see me cry. [/I], "You son of a bitch. You're actually blaming me for your mistake?"
Charlie looks at me with a smug look on his face. [I] Screw this. [/I] I reach across the table and slap him. Damn, that felt good.
"You son of bitch." I say again, barely containing my anger.
The waitress comes over the table cautiously. I gather by her slow movements, she's heard about my little tirade last night at the bar.
"Is everything okay over here?"
I look up at her, "Yes, everything is just peachy. Right, Charlie?"
He looks at me evilly, if looks could kill, I'd be dead and buried right here.
I have to get out of here. "Excuse me, could I get some of this to go? I know that it isn't policy, but I fear the company I'm keeping right now is making me lose my appetite."
The waitress looks at me and then looks back at Charlie, and smiles. She probably thinks that we are just having a lover's quarrel. "No problem, I'll be back with a to-go container for you."
"I don't know what's worse, the fact that you lied to me, or the fact that you actually have to nerve blame me for this mess that you have created."
"I was going to wait until we got back to L.A. to give you this back" I say to him twisting the ring off of my finger. "Now I just find it constricting." The waitress hands me the container as I stand up. "Go to hell, Charlie." I say as I walk away tossing the engagement ring at him.