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In our latest adventures in cracked-out AUs ('cause you know how we do) kel. and I came up with the Alias AU of our dreams. Just imagine it: Sark and Bristow Bristow and Sark Investigations.

For reasons not fully worked out but which are-- let me assure you-- extremely logical, former CIA agent Jack Bristow has started a private investigations firm. He has taken on as his partner former master criminal Julian Sark, a man who is putting his shady past to good use in pursuit of the more legitimate dollar. The men have a tentative trust and bicker a lot, but they're the best if you've got a problem you just can't take to the cops. The story would, of course, feature much in the way of post noir-ish narration courtesy Mr. Bristow and would probably start a little like:

It was another Tuesday. We hadn't had a case in three days and Sark was alternating between amusing himself by terrorizing our assistant with a loaded weapon and whining because the coffee from across the street tasted like swill and I was wondering what bitch I was going to have to choke. Then the door opened and everything changed.

Everything changed, of course, because a client walked in. A suave, rodent-like little man in round glasses and an expensive suit with a Mao-collar. Arvin Sloane. As fascinating as he is deadly. He would be bringing them a case. A problem involving three beautiful but deadly Russian women and a mysterious artifact. There might be a prophecy. But then, there might not, because Jack doesn't have a lot of time for bullshit. Sloane would need Bristow and Sark's help tracking the women down and recovering the artifact. Because kel. is partially in charge here and because there are conventions to be followed even in a cracked-out pseudo Sam Spade rip-off, Jack and Sloane would fall desperately in love, but resist and, of course, Sloane would betray Jack in the end, anyway.

Along the way, we'd meet Marcus Dixon, Jack's contact in the intelligence world and Marshall, their source for all things technological, weapon-like and cool. Jack and Sark would, of course, have a pleasant, straight-forward and witty assistant, Eric Weiss (yes, like Houdini). He'd always be trying to be more involved in their work and while a bright guy, he just wouldn't have the moral flexibility and ingenuity to be on Jack or Sark's level. But, (since I too have a wacky Alias OTP), Sark keeps him around because he's pretty and also fun to wave a gun at when he's bored. Throughout our story, we'd also come to find that Jack had a child from his mysterious marriage-- Sydney, a French caberet singer who works at a local bar. Sydney would visit the office occasionally on the way home from work in the morning and bring donuts and coffee from the shop across the street. Of course, this would all be a translucent excuse to spend time with the donut-boy, Michael Vaughn who is desperately in love with Sydney.

And so it goes in the world of wacky OTP-tastic AUs that our brains churn out like so much sawdust. Also, since I haven't posted in awhile, I feel that this is an opportunity to note that [livejournal.com profile] peter_and_fran (aka the wacky OTP-tastic AU that we're actually writing) was updated on Wednesday with a part that I like to refer to as "the weeping". I always cackle after this. Because I like to make people cry. Or something. It will, as usual, also be updated later today, but kel.'s on top of that and she's been galivanting around the NY, so I am unsure on the time. Still, watch out for that.

Quick Long, rambling and possibly overly defensive thoughts about Lost are also in order )

Now I have one more task and then I watch Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World. Mmmmm...relaxing day.

ALSO! imogen and I watched QAF 312-314 last night and they showed a new promo for the season 5 premiere. Want now, please and thank you. May 22, nownownownownownownow. Ahem.

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