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Too Perfect













more FanFiction









Blast From the Past
Fan fiction and fond (mostly) memories of soap days gone by


Too Perfect
by Princessilsa



A moment later Rachel took a deep breath and began to knock as loudly as she dared on Alistair's door.

There was no response. She knocked again, just a bit louder. A semi-angry Alistair flung the door open. "What part of Do NOT Distur-" he stopped abruptly.

"Rachel?" he hissed. "What are you DOING here?"

She smiled widely at him. "Do you want to go out and have some ACTUAL fun?"

He ushered her into his suite, quietly shutting the door behind them. "Do you realize it's past 11?" he demanded. She nodded. "And you're not worried to go out? What if we were to get caught? What if we were to be attacked? What if-"

"Alistair, we are not five year olds who would be scared to get caught - stealing cookies or something. And anyway, I'm not afraid of ANYTHING when I'm with you. Let's go out."

He looked at her curiously. "Where do you want to go?"

She shrugged. "I don't know yet," she answered, laughing.

He surveyed her closely. "Forgive my asking but - Rachel - are you drunk?"

She giggled. "No. Just happy and high spirited and - full of life and - will you take me out?" he seemed to waver. "Please? Who knows when we'll be in London again?"

He smiled, beginning to be excited. "Just let me go get changed."

Some time later Rachel and Alistair strolled casually down a dimly lit London street. There was fog but Rachel liked it. She felt like it added a mysterious, romantic air.

"Yes, and after the honeymoon in Europe?" she questioned, stopping and turning slightly to look up at him.

"After that," he said gruffly, "We'll have five or six children, never see one another and become desperately boring people-"

"No," she interrupted him, laughing, and reaching up to put her arms around his neck. "Be serious. How do you see us in - five years?"

He smiled down at her letting his hands rest loosely on her waist. "Like this. EXACTLY like this. Still very much in love. Hopefully still being a bit crazy. Perhaps with one child."

She raised an eyebrow. "Sounds practically perfect, actually."

"Only practically?" he questioned, slightly amused.

"Well," she murmured, licking her lips, "you didn't mention this," she whispered, placing a hand behind his neck and standing on her tiptoes to kiss him. He bent down slightly as their lips met and her feet lowered to the ground. The kiss was gentle but thorough and finally Alistair pulled away.

"Well," he murmured, "There will be a surplus of that. Make a note."

She laughed softly and reached upwards to kiss him, again very gently. A long moment later they pulled back again, and, holding hands, began to walk again.

"We can sail, too, right?" she asked suddenly.

"Of course you can sail if it makes you happy," he grinned. "You know I don't enjoy it as much as you, though."

She smiled. "But you'll come riding with me?"

"Of course. I'll come with you if you'd like, and I would never try to stop you're doing anything. But you know we'll have to attend balls, too right?"

"And dinner parties, and social engagements," she added nodding. "Yes I know." Suddenly she stopped again, grabbing his other hand. "Let's go in HERE!"

Alistair did a double take. "Rache, it looks very - well, very - "

"Isn't it wonderful?" she questioned, turning and descending the dimly lit stairwell into some kind of club. NOT the type of place her or Alistair had ever been in before nor, in all likelihood, would they ever be in again.

There was cigar and cigarette smoke everywhere and dimly lit small booths covered in red velvet where couples were unabashedly making out lined the walls. In the center was a dance floor and band. A small bar stood close to the entrance.

Rachel suddenly felt a lot less certain about being there. She knew that neither her mother OR sister would be caught dead in there, and though she was more impulsive and energetic than the two of them COMBINED and far less prissy, she had never been exposed to anything like this.

"Rachel?" Alistair shouted over the music. "We could leave if you want?"

"In a while!" she called back. "I want to dance!"

"I don't know this dance," he admitted bluntly.

She laughed. "Neither do I! That's why I want to learn it so much!"

He laughed even as he shook his head. "Rache - let's not and say we did!" he suggested. At that exact moment a man, shabbily dressed, but clearly kind hearted, stepped up to Rachel.

"Care to dance, ma'am?"

"I don't know this dance," she replied candidly.

"It's easy, I'll show you," he smiled.

She looked at Alistair who reluctantly nodded. Smiling, she reached down to yank off her heels and reached up to let her hair down. "All right," she replied, letting him lead her into the crowd.

"All you do," he said hurriedly, grabbing one of her hands and placing her other one on his back, "Is hop twice to the left, once back, twice to the right, once forward. It's called a polka."

"A POLKA?" she asked, laughing, as she began to get into the dance. After a few minutes they were dancing wildly quickly.

Out of no where Alistair tapped the man on the shoulder. "May I cut in?" The man shrugged reluctantly and Rachel smiled up at her fiancée, stepping into his arms.

"I thought you'd never come!" she exclaimed causing him to laugh. As they began to dance they forgot everything but the moment. Five short minutes later the polka ended. A very out of breath Rachel sank down into a booth.

"That wasn't so awful now, was it?" she questioned, taking off her shawl and letting it fall to the ground.

"No. Not SO awful," he admitted, laughing. She laughed too and they began to kiss, far more passionately than they had earlier. They grabbed at one another hungrily. She gasped as he pulled her onto his lap and let him deepen the kiss. Her mouth opened slowly as did his, and their tongues went to work for a few minutes. His fingers ran slowly through her hair. Slowly she pulled back.

"Promise you'll never come to London without me?"

"I promise," he said at once. She smiled, leaning in to kiss him softly and quickly.

"We should go back to the hotel," she murmured reluctantly.

"Yes, I suppose so," he answered, letting her stand and smooth out her dress. She grabbed her shawl.

"Alistair?" she questioned. "Where did my shoes go?"





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