~a/n: I know that in most of my other fics I've ignored the issue of VFD
altogether, and for the longest time I've been itching to sit down and do a
fic that deals with nothing but the aforementioned organization.
F o r t h e S i l e n c e o f t h e W o r l d
C h a p t e r O n e : C o n t a c t
Isadora Quagmire looked nothing like her old self. Her short dark hair was covered with a blonde wig, which had in turn been died green with blue streaks so as to blend in with her surroundings.
She had been standing in the bathroom, wearing nothing more than the short, black top and blue skirt of the waitresses at this particular hangout, for an hour.
She glanced in the mirror and, sure enough, a familiar face met her eyes. She turned.
And it was a good thing she recognized the face too, because otherwise Isadora would have had no idea who this woman was. By staring at her face she knew it was R, her contact, but otherwise she too looked like one of the waitresses.
"Is there something I can help you with?" she asked, raising her eyebrows like she always did when delivering a code.
"The world is quiet here," Isadora responded, approaching her and holding out her hand.
"I don't see why I always have to meet you in a bathroom," R huffed, handing her the small envelope.
"Because it's illegal to have surveillance cameras in a bathroom." Isadora slipped the disk into the side of her skirt, holding it there with her hipbone.
"Take care," R said as she walked into the tiny, graffiti-covered stall to change into Isadora's street clothes and get out of there. Isadora herself strolled out into the bar, leaving the bright silence of the bathroom for the dark club. She could feel the music from the speakers vibrating in the floor and up through the ridiculously uncomfortable shoes she was wearing.
She saw Klaus almost immediately, as despite his disguise he still looked extremely uncomfortable in that room. She slid into the seat next to him and tucked the envelope in the pocket of his black trench coat. "Can I take your order?" she asked, giving him a meaningful look.
"No thank you," he said with a mild wave. "I've seen all I need to see here." He stood and reached into his pocket. "See you around."
He turned and left, and as he receded she stared after him. "Damn is he attractive," she whispered to herself before returning to work.
F o r t h e S i l e n c e o f t h e W o r l d
C h a p t e r O n e : C o n t a c t
Isadora Quagmire looked nothing like her old self. Her short dark hair was covered with a blonde wig, which had in turn been died green with blue streaks so as to blend in with her surroundings.
She had been standing in the bathroom, wearing nothing more than the short, black top and blue skirt of the waitresses at this particular hangout, for an hour.
She glanced in the mirror and, sure enough, a familiar face met her eyes. She turned.
And it was a good thing she recognized the face too, because otherwise Isadora would have had no idea who this woman was. By staring at her face she knew it was R, her contact, but otherwise she too looked like one of the waitresses.
"Is there something I can help you with?" she asked, raising her eyebrows like she always did when delivering a code.
"The world is quiet here," Isadora responded, approaching her and holding out her hand.
"I don't see why I always have to meet you in a bathroom," R huffed, handing her the small envelope.
"Because it's illegal to have surveillance cameras in a bathroom." Isadora slipped the disk into the side of her skirt, holding it there with her hipbone.
"Take care," R said as she walked into the tiny, graffiti-covered stall to change into Isadora's street clothes and get out of there. Isadora herself strolled out into the bar, leaving the bright silence of the bathroom for the dark club. She could feel the music from the speakers vibrating in the floor and up through the ridiculously uncomfortable shoes she was wearing.
She saw Klaus almost immediately, as despite his disguise he still looked extremely uncomfortable in that room. She slid into the seat next to him and tucked the envelope in the pocket of his black trench coat. "Can I take your order?" she asked, giving him a meaningful look.
"No thank you," he said with a mild wave. "I've seen all I need to see here." He stood and reached into his pocket. "See you around."
He turned and left, and as he receded she stared after him. "Damn is he attractive," she whispered to herself before returning to work.