DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ALIAS, OR IT'S CHARACTERS although I'm sure that's obvious

A/N: So this was a bit of a challenge for me, and I had a bit of trouble staying in character and vocalizing my point. It's not my best work, it didn't really feel like it came together for me, but I think it turned oout alright. You be the judge.

Common Ground

Chapter two: Time will Tell

Things were slow, unnaturally and dully quiet in the JTF, and the desks that usually flurried with urgent matters of national security were buried beneath bland manila folders filled with equally boring documents. But reprieve lurked, unassuming, beneath the cover of a nondescript file he had surreptitiously placed on the corner of her desk as he passed, his eyes focused ahead of him, not on her. She sighed, opening the file, the sunny colored post-it note catching her attention amidst the drab papers. Written in the slanting scrawl that so embodied the strong but unimposing man she was slowly coming to know more about were the words, 'Let's play hooky. Santa Monica Pier. Noon. -V.'

A smile blossomed on her lips, and she didn't try to repress it, glad to be free of the slackened expression that had fallen upon her features as the work had progressed. Removing the note, she slipped it into the pocket of her charcoal suit jacket before returning to her work, glancing furtively at her wristwatch. It was already eleven forty-five, and she swore inwardly, wishing she had checked the file he had given her first, foreseeing his gesture. 'But it wouldn't have been a surprise then,' she thought wryly. Pulling her cell phone from her pocket, she hit his number on the speed dial, listening to the rings with growing anticipation.

"You're going to be late, aren't you?" His voice was warm, laced with a hint of amusement, and the dullness of the day faded as she heard his easygoing tone.

"How on Earth did you get out so early?" she answered, stashing her unfinished papers unceremoniously in her desk drawer.

"As far as Kendall is concerned, my mother is taking her terrified pitbull to the vet and she needs someone to carry him in for her."

She laughed, the sound odd in the stifled and somber office. "If only my mother had a pitbull."

A sharp silence deflated the easygoing conversation, and she inhaled tiredly. 'We really need to talk about this, no matter what he says.'

"Anyway..."she trailed, her usually quick mind suddenly empty. She stowed the last of the dossiers in her drawer, desperately searching for something to break the awkward stalemate.

"Why are you still on the line? Get out here, Bristow." His was back to his good-natured teasing, and she was relieved that her thoughtless comment hadn't ruined the conversation completely.

"Bye."

"Bye, Syd."

She ended the call, spotting an opportunity to escape. A coughing fit suddenly overcame her, and several concerned co-workers tore themselves away from their debriefs and reports to check on her. With a noncommital lifting of her hand she dismissed them, and they turned back to their computer screens. A few minutes later, the coughing returned, and again she waved away any sympathetic glances. The final wheezing attack was upon her when her target approached her desk, observing her with mild amusement.

"Something the matter, Agent Bristow?" Kendall stood beside her, his hands on his hips in what she assumed what supposed to be an imposing stance.

"I think I might have caught a bug on that last mission to Fiji. I'm a little jet-lagged too, I guess. Nothing I can't handle, I just hope I'm not contagious. I wouldn't want to expose any of the other agents..."She tried not to overdo it, but she had a feeling that he saw through her ploy anyway.

"You never were one for paperwork, were you? You've been on seven missions in the past three weeks, and who knows when we'll need you to be out there again. I suppose that you could do with a break. Go home, Bristow." He gestured with a wave of his hand, bidding her to abandon her tedious paperwork.

"Thank you, Director." She gathered her things, coughing once more for effect as she stood. She had only taken a few steps when she heard, "And tell Agent Vaughn that his report is still due first thing tomorrow morning."

She grinned and kept on walking.

-----

He leaned over the railing, his sandy brown hair tousled by the caress of the gentle breeze, his face serene as he gazed out onto the Pacific. He looked years younger, and she loved the boyish quality the day had brought out in him. All that remained of the suit he had worn to the office was the powder blue oxford, unbuttoned slightly with the sleeves rolled up. His jacket and tie had disappeared, and his stiff black slacks had been replaced by gently worn khakis. She watched him for a while, letting the peace of the moment flood her with truth. She had fallen in love with the man before her. She took a few more steps forward, and, sensing her presence, he turned to face her, his calm expression changing into one of pure joy.

His arms encircled her, the scent of his cologne engulfing her in the moments before his lips met hers. They kissed softly, remaining in an embrace and he took her in. "You look great."

A quick stop at home, and her drab suit was in the hamper, exchanged for a white and pale pink patterned tank top with a pair of tan capris. Although she was dressed simply, to him, she looked great in anything. 'Or nothing.' He tried to extinguish his more impure thoughts, wanting to spend some rare time in public with her. She blushed, avoiding his eyes, never knowing how to take a compliment. They stepped apart, and he took her hand, the motion so natural, even after such a short time together.

'Are we taking things too quickly?'she wondered abruptly. But she dismissed the thought, reaffirming what she had known for a long time. They hadn't had time to get to know each other the way other couples had, facing the drawback of being in mortal peril if they were ever seen together. But even though she didn't know all about his favorite books, type of music, or even past, she knew him. She knew who he was, a caring, gentle, strong, humble man who gave everything and asked for nothing. And they had the rest of their lives to learn the little things. 'The rest of our lives...I like the sound of that.' With her hand in his, she set off towards the beach, not wanting to waste another second of her future with him.

"So, what is your favorite book anyway?"

----

The sun was nearly setting by the time they had finished their stroll on the beach, hands clasped, eyes only on each other. They had decided to conclude the end of their date at a small seaside restaurant that Vaughn had discovered, and after a couple glasses of wine and two delicious meals, the laughter was even more abundant. Part of Sydney kept nagging her to bring up the issue he had been so reluctant to confront: what had happened between their parents. But she couldn't bring herself to ruin the happiness they were sharing. Just as she had worked up the courage to address the problem, he spoke, taking away her opportunity.

"I've been wanting to do this for awhile, but with..." 'Your mother betraying us again' the cynical part of his brain was tempted to add in. "With everything being the way it is, it never felt like the right time. I want you to have this." He pulled a shiny key from his shirt pocket, holding it out to her nervously. The sincerity and hopefulness in his voice made her forget her plans. They would have time to talk eventually. Right now, she wanted to enjoy this. She smiled, reaching across the table to accept the key to his apartment. She opened her mouth to reply to his gesture, but just as she did, her cell phone went off, ruining the moment.

"Sorry", she apologized, fumbling in her pocket for the mobile. "Hello? Oh, hey Fran."

"What's the matter?"

"How did that happen?"

"I'll be home in fifteen minutes."

She stared, frustrated, at the device before slipping it back into her pants pocket. She smiled apologetically, and he sighed.

"You have to leave."

"Yea..." She heard the disappointment in his voice, and wished that their date didn't have to end.

"I was hoping we would test out that key tonight. You know, just to make sure that it works." His cheeky response lightened her mood and she explained, "The construction near our house temporarily disabled our plumbing. We're going to need to evacuate for a few days."

To her surprise, his smile had returned, in full blast. He smirked at her before stating matter-of-factly, "Well, I guess we will get to try out that key tonight after all."

She stood, smiling at how he always managed to find the silver lining. "I'll be there as soon as I can." She kissed him gently, twice, before departing home.

-------

"So this is what it takes to get you home."

She heard Francie's voice from behind her as she packed an overnight bag for her stay at Vaughn's. "What does that mean?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as she folded a couple of pajama tops, musing vaguely how often she would actually sleep in her pajamas at his apartment.

"I mean we hardly ever see you anymore. If you're not working, which you usually are, you're out with Vaughn." Francie slumped on the edge of the bed, upset evident in her body language.

"You're the one encouraged me to tell him how I feel, remember? And I'm not the only one who's in constant work-mode nowadays." Her tone rose, slightly accusatory, as she zipped her case more roughly than necessary.

"That's just my point. You and Will are always being called in, and I'm always at the restaurant, we never get to spend any time together anymore. And with Vaughn, our schedules are even more stretched." She sighed as Sydney sat beside her, trying to organize her thoughts.

"I don't have anything against him, I think he's a great guy and I'm glad you've found someone again. I just miss my best friend, that's all."

Sydney looked her in the eye, trying to spot something tangibly different about her roommate. The argument was hardly new, but it seemed almost forced. She brushed it aside, speaking softly and genuinely to her friend.

"Fran, you're my best friend. I don't know what I'd do without you. We're all always busy, but I'm always going to have time for you. You're a part of my life."

This seemed to reassure her slightly as she asked, "Are you staying with Vaughn?"

"Yea...where are you and Will headed?"

"Amy's place. It'll be a little crowded, but it's only for a few days."

They sat in an almost comfortable silence before Sydney revealed shyly, "Vaughn gave me the key to his apartment today at dinner."

Francie smiled, a knowing look on her face before lifting Sydney's bag off of the bed. "Well then, you'd better get over there."

------

She stood before the door to his apartment, the key still in the palm of her hand. She knew he had given it to her so that she could share his apartment as her own, but she couldn't help but feel awkward. Giving herself a mental shakedown, she forced the key into the lock, and opened the door hesitantly. She was surprised at how good it felt, natural, as if she'd been coming home to him for years. He looked up from his spot on the couch, his joy evident on his face. He was at the door in seconds, her bag discarded on the floor as they kissed. Their greeting was slow and soft, her hands on his face, his on her waist. As they finally broke the kiss, he brushed her nose with his playfully, whispering in the quiet almost shy way that he did in their most revealing moments.

"I could get used to this."

She teased back, her hands running gently down his shirtfront as she asked, "What, the kissing?"

"Well, that too. But I meant you, coming home here. I like it." He pulled her closer to him, their bodies flush against each other, her pulse racing. She knew where this conversation and their actions were leading, and as much as she wanted it, she knew they had to address their shared past. She pulled back, hating the confused and hurt look on his face.

"What's the matter?" he asked, his voice so compassionate that she felt bad for breaking away, even with good reason.

"It's not you. I just hoped that we could talk." She looked back up into his eyes, seeing only concern for her. And she felt her resolve breaking, wanting to pick up where they had left off and return this conversation to the back burner.

"Alright," he assured, his tone comforting. "What did you want to talk about?"

She sighed tiredly, not sure how to approach the subject now that it was in front of them. "I think you know."

She watched his face change as he realized what she was talking about.

"Sydney..we've talked, there's nothing to say. Would I rather it never happened, of course I would! But it did happen. And it's neither of our faults. It has nothing to do with us. You are not your mother. You..."

He stepped closer to her again, and it only now registered how close she was to the wall. He face was level with hers as he leaned over her, tilting her head to his with a docile but dominating gesture.

"You are beautiful..."

A lock of hair slid out of place, and he tucked it behind her ear, his fingers brushing the delicate skin of her neck, raising pleasant goose bumps all over her body. "...and gentle..."

His touch mirrored his words, one hand resting on the wall behind her, the other tracing the contours of her body with a touch so light she wanted to pull him to her and speed things up. But he wasn't finished.

"...and giving..." His body was against hers once more, and she wanted him more than ever, not caring if he finished his praise or not. She couldn't take his deliberate teasing any more, and he relented, his lips pressing against her in a hungry kiss. Wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, her fingertips buried in his mess of dark blonde locks. His breathing quickened as the kiss deepened, and he thought about how long they had waited for this. Over a year of knowing looks, suppressed fantasies and building tension, and they were here, in his home, with all the time in the world. Just remembering how much he had ached for this made the thought of what was to come even more desperately appealing. His hands explored her body, needing to have all of her, not caring about anything else. She was completely his, and their pasts didn't matter. It was just now, just them.

His arms snaked possessively around her waist, and in a fluid movement she was in his arms, her legs wrapped around him. They stumbled blindly into his bedroom, shoes and socks abandoned along the way, and her back hit the mattress a second before his body covered hers. She could feel his heat, and, thirsting for more, her fingers deftly undid the buttons of his rumpled shirt. He discarded it clumsily, his lips leaving hers for the first time as he sat up, straddling her, to remove his white undershirt. He took her hands, pulling her to him as he helped her lift her tank top sloppily over her head. He smiled, still grinning as he lowered his lips to her skin, the flirtatious movements of his lips and tongue drawing a moan from the back of her throat. The sound was only encouragement to him, and he pressed her against the bed once more, continuing his journey down her body. Every mark, every scar was tended to, his sweet nature breaking through his mischievous streak. He knew of her past, of the pain she had been through, and he wished that his kisses could heal her wounds, that his words would mend years of a broken heart. He had seen her insecurities, her struggles with her unfortunate background, and he knew she needed to be reassured of her goodness, her selfless love that made her nothing like her mother.She fumbled with his belt buckle, affirmations of her ecstacy reverberating around the room as he whispered loving words so quietly that they were a breath against her skin.

She brought his lips back to hers, biting them softly, eliciting a low groan from him. His chest was slick against hers, their pounding hearts and bodies beating together in a furious dance. They tore at the other's clothes, memories of a time when this was only a distant dream driving them on, and his eyes locked with hers, in a steady, powerful stare. She gasped and he let out a moan that was nearly a growl as his body rocked against hers. Her fingernails dug into his clenched back muscles, his strong arms cradling her tenderly in contrast to the powerful strokes that caused her back to arch against the bed. Their eyes never left each others, trapped by the power of everything that coursed through them. All that they had ever been, were now, would ever be was theirs to share, to give in this moment as they gave everything they were to each other. Each heavy thrust brought them closer and closer, the tension mounting until one final motion swept them over the edge.

Looking into her eyes as she gave herself entirely to him had drawn something from him, something deeper than he had ever known. He pulled her body back to his, mind still reeling as they came down from their high. He had never known anything like what he had felt at that moment: it was overpowering and all consuming, awakening emotion in him that he had never been able to feel before, not at that level. With that single act, she recreated him, what he could become. The faith and trust she had in him was so overwhelming, and he wasn't sure that he would ever truly deserve her. But he had the rest of his life to try.

-----

Thanks for reading!!!

-Tess