Feedback: Positive or negative both welcome. celli@fanfic101.com
Category: Romance (S/V), challenge fic
Rating: R
Spoilers: Nothing major. I'd say up to and including "The Solution" just
to be on the safe side.
Summary: Vaughn/Sydney smut and (being me) moodiness.
Archiving: Credit Dauphine and my site (www.fanfic101.com); otherwise
just tell me so I can come visit.
Disclaimer: Alias belongs to JJ Abrams, ABC, and various other people
with lawyers. Sadly, this means Vaughn will never be mine.

Notes: Most of this was written before "Rendevous," so you can consider
it to take place in a mildly AU future. As always, much thanks to my beta
readers--JenC, Lizbet, and Gail, who had never even seen the show before
she read this for me. :)

***

Rain in LA
Part One: Low Pressure System
by Celli Lane

***

Low pressure systems have different intensities with some producing a
gentle rain while others produce hurricane force winds and a massive
deluge...

***

"It never rains in LA," Sydney said.

My head was on her shoulder, with one hand tracing the smooth skin of
her side. "Sure it does. Once every ten years." I stopped on a scar
that I think came from a knife wound the year before we met; my fingers
skimmed back and forth over it.

I could feel her breath hitch on a laugh as I bumped over the scar.
"Okay."

"Besides...I kind of like it." I did. It was a soft rain, no harsh
wind or thunder accompanying it, and it was a constant percussion
against the roof of my apartment. "It reminds me of Seattle."

She went still for just a second, but I'm obsessed with her. I noticed.
"Oh."

"Sydney?" I propped myself up on one elbow to look at her. "What?"

"Nothing!" She smiled brightly at me, but--I mentioned the obsession,
right?--I immediately recognized Fake Work Smile #4.

"Sydney."

She sighed. "Really. Just--I've never been to Seattle. I've been to
Kenya and Uzbekistan, but never Washington State."

"Lots of people have never been to Washington."

"I was accepted to a couple of universities there. But I wanted to go
to UCLA because my mother did."

There was a long pause while we both worked through the implications of
that. Never being recruited by SD-6, never meeting Danny, never meeting
me...I laid my head back on her shoulder. "Seattle's nice," I said into
her collarbone. "But I like LA. Rain or no rain."

Another long pause, while she toyed with my fingers underneath the
covers. "Vaughn?" she said finally.

"Yes?" I thought briefly about nibbling on her shoulder. We had at
least an hour before Francie was expecting her back at the apartment,
and I--

"Do you miss Alice?"

"Wha--what?" No nibbling. Possibly ever.

She shifted a little, dislodging me from her shoulder. "Do you miss
her?" *Do you miss your old life,* she didn't say.

"Sometimes," I said after a long pause. "She was...special."

More shifting. "It must be nice to have someone outside of work. I
mean, someone who knows what you do but isn't part of it."

I smiled. "Did I ever tell you how I met Alice?"

"No..."

"At work."

"What?"

"She was a new computer tech in our office. Unfortunately, her first
day was the same day my new secretary started."

"Assistant," Sydney corrected. She's never met Donna, my current
assistant, but they seem to have developed a bond anyway.

"Sorry, assistant."

"And you thought Alice was your new--?"

"Yes," I said hastily. "And it didn't go well."

"What did you do?"

I rolled over and buried my head in the pillow. "Mmmmf."

Sydney was giggling. She poked at my shoulder. "Vaughn, what did you
*do* to the poor girl?"

I rolled back over, trying to hide a grin. "Poor girl? Why do you
assume she got the worst of it?"

Her eyes were dancing. "What happened?"

I heaved a long sigh. "Let me just say first that I was having a really
bad day, and I'd had a couple of awful sec--assistants."

"Yeah, uh-huh."

"They were!"

She lifted an eyebrow. "Go on. You were having a bad day..."

"I'd left this long detailed note about how to work the coffeemaker."
That set off another round of giggles. "I like good coffee, should I
apologize for it?"

An eloquent silence followed. My views on properly made coffee are oft-
repeated--and oft-mocked.

"*So.* I walk into my office and there's a cup of coffee on the desk,
and a woman sitting at my computer. What am I supposed to think?"

Sydney was shaking with suppressed laughter. "The wrong thing, I
assume."

"I took one drink--and let me tell you, it was awful coffee. Sugar in
it up to--" I held my hand up to my eyebrows. "It was *bad* coffee,
Syd, I'm telling you."

"And so you said..."

I sighed again. Then I said in the flattest monotone I could muster,
"This coffee tastes horrible. I thought you knew the way I liked it. Now
go get me a new cup and make it quick."

Sydney exploded with laughter. I covered my face with both hands.

"Oh, God," Sydney said after a moment. "I think I broke something
laughing. You didn't say it like that, though, right?" She pried my
hands from my eyes.

"No, as I recall there were more exclamation points and...you
know...swear words." Sydney started laughing again, so I rushed through
the rest of the story. "And of course it was her coffee...and my brand
new Pentium computer ran slower than a calculator for six months. Alice
was good at revenge."

Sydney's giggles had subsided to the occasional snuffle. She wiped her
eyes. "So how did you end up dating Alice? I know the CIA
has...rules..." Rules we were currently violating by being naked in my
bed.

"She got a job working for a local insurance agency. Much better money,
and apparently cranky insurance adjusters are easier to deal with than
cranky intelligence officers. So I sent her flowers and a bag of coffee
beans..." I shrugged. "And the rest is history."

"How long were you together?"

"A year, year and a half."

"And you miss her."

"Sometimes," I repeated. I knew what I wanted to say, but I struggled
for the words. "I miss *her.* I don't miss being with her."

I moved to kiss her, but she dropped back onto her pillow and kept her
face turned away from me. The anger came more quickly than the laughter
had, but I closed my eyes against the blame I wanted to heap on her.
She never moved as I grabbed my jeans off the floor and stalked away.

My apartment has an opening that only an optimist or a real estate agent
would call a balcony. I stood on it anyway, letting the rain soak my
hair and my jeans and run coolly between my toes.

*Yeah,* I thought. *I miss her. I miss being the focus of someone's
attention--is that so bad? I miss hearing "Michael" from a woman's
lips. Damn it, with Alice I would say goodbye to her in the morning and
know she'd still be alive when I saw her that night. Don't I get to
miss that?*

Some days, I try so hard not to push my feelings on Sydney, I'm as flat
and falsely sweet as Alice's coffee. I want to scream at her when she
calls me "Vaughn" in that cool voice, when she comes back from a mission
with bruises and cuts--and someday it's going to be a bullet wound, if
my nightmares are any indication.

I walked back to the bed, pushing my dripping hair away from my
forehead. I squished a little when I sat on the bed, and Sydney looked
up at me with a tentative smile on her face.

"I have to be back in a little while," she said.

"Not too soon, I hope." I bent and kissed the side of her neck, and she
shivered where my wet skin touched hers. Her arms came around my neck.

"No, not too soon."

***

Coming next: Part Two, "Warm Front," a.k.a "Celli tries to write from a
non-Vaughn POV." *gasp*