Title: Proximity
Summary: Glint, glow, blaze. "And she can see all that, because she's finally close enough." S/V
Timeline: smack in the middle of "Phase One" in my (and many other people's) favorite part.
Distribution: i'd be honored to have it anywhere, just drop me a review (hee!) and tell me. thanks.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, JJ's the man, (but MV.. if you wanna give yourself to anything? I'm anything)... yeah and all that other I don't own anything stuff
Author's Note: okay read this story, but I would honestly like to say, I wrote it in 25 minutes flat. it's not great, I like my other work a lot more... I wanna thank everyone for the reviews and if I could get some on this one, even though it's not super htat'd be great. even a review just telling me what I should work on (or if I shoudl never work on anything again!). I know some people are waiting for the fourth chapter of "Shaant" which I have to say is quickly becoming one of my fave pieces of work, but as I said, I'm planning something REALLY nice and special for the finale sooo it might be two or three more days. anyway, back to this story. it was inspired by some great writing, in paticular Em Mindelan's "Penance" trilogy... S/Vers read that if you haven't. anyway, enough shameless propaganda... on with the story!
She looses herself in green and gold, and wonders who else gets a chance to see what she sees. Of course, she knows of one other person who does. But she still can't help but wonder whether that person has seen the real flecks in the past one and half years. She wonders if the person has seen the real flecks- ever?
This lady couldn't have seen that fleck of black-- pure and beautiful-- that relished the adventure, the feeling of living that came after dislodging Cole's attack, after breaking into the Vatican, after escaping Khasinau's clutches via a needle full of adrenaline... after taking down SD-6 and the Alliance. The danger was there, the worry was there, the fear was there, but after completing something successfully, that little ribbon of black would glint like the vivacious, living object it was.
The other one, that woman, she couldn't have seen that one fleck of brown. His father was killed when he was eight, and he joined the same agency that killed him to honor his father's memory, finish what he started, in a manner. That flecks is perpetually darkened with the heavy suffucation of loss.
That other woman, she couldn't have seen the pools of green that bear the burden of responsibility. He works for the CIA where no decision is without repercussion. He handles a double agent, where no mistake should go unnoticed.
That other woman can't see the miniscule triangle of hazel that resides in hatred for the woman that killed his father. She is living, sinfully and breathing, while his father is not, innocent and pure.
That lady can't see that thin, beautiful line of blue, that starts at the top, stops at the iris, and runs diagonally to the bottom, that line that dulls with forgiveness. That woman can't imagine the level of self-sacrifice that has been employed to pardon her of her mother's sins, to see her with those flecks, that pool and that triangle, and still take her into an embrace and quiet her sobs.
That other woman, she can't see that one all important fleck. That fleck that gives it that true green color. That fleck which glows in the sunshine, shine in dark, and show every emotion that runs through its owner. That fleck glints when bashful words are spoke, that darkens when those words are returned. That fleck that blazes in equal degrees when she is threatened or when she looks in just the right way. That other woman, she can't see that fleck that portrays every inch, every degree of the love he feels for her.
And that's why, she will never worry about anyone taking Michael Vaughn away. Because once they look at him, look close enough to count at least, they will see that fleck and understand that his eyes, like his soul, might as well bear the name "Sydney Bristow" on them.
And she can see all that, because she's finally close enough.
okay please tell me what you thought!!! i know it was short and kinda bad but thanks for reading!!! if you have trouble following it (i'm not always very coherent) just write me a review saying that, and I'll explain it.}
Summary: Glint, glow, blaze. "And she can see all that, because she's finally close enough." S/V
Timeline: smack in the middle of "Phase One" in my (and many other people's) favorite part.
Distribution: i'd be honored to have it anywhere, just drop me a review (hee!) and tell me. thanks.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, JJ's the man, (but MV.. if you wanna give yourself to anything? I'm anything)... yeah and all that other I don't own anything stuff
Author's Note: okay read this story, but I would honestly like to say, I wrote it in 25 minutes flat. it's not great, I like my other work a lot more... I wanna thank everyone for the reviews and if I could get some on this one, even though it's not super htat'd be great. even a review just telling me what I should work on (or if I shoudl never work on anything again!). I know some people are waiting for the fourth chapter of "Shaant" which I have to say is quickly becoming one of my fave pieces of work, but as I said, I'm planning something REALLY nice and special for the finale sooo it might be two or three more days. anyway, back to this story. it was inspired by some great writing, in paticular Em Mindelan's "Penance" trilogy... S/Vers read that if you haven't. anyway, enough shameless propaganda... on with the story!
She looses herself in green and gold, and wonders who else gets a chance to see what she sees. Of course, she knows of one other person who does. But she still can't help but wonder whether that person has seen the real flecks in the past one and half years. She wonders if the person has seen the real flecks- ever?
This lady couldn't have seen that fleck of black-- pure and beautiful-- that relished the adventure, the feeling of living that came after dislodging Cole's attack, after breaking into the Vatican, after escaping Khasinau's clutches via a needle full of adrenaline... after taking down SD-6 and the Alliance. The danger was there, the worry was there, the fear was there, but after completing something successfully, that little ribbon of black would glint like the vivacious, living object it was.
The other one, that woman, she couldn't have seen that one fleck of brown. His father was killed when he was eight, and he joined the same agency that killed him to honor his father's memory, finish what he started, in a manner. That flecks is perpetually darkened with the heavy suffucation of loss.
That other woman, she couldn't have seen the pools of green that bear the burden of responsibility. He works for the CIA where no decision is without repercussion. He handles a double agent, where no mistake should go unnoticed.
That other woman can't see the miniscule triangle of hazel that resides in hatred for the woman that killed his father. She is living, sinfully and breathing, while his father is not, innocent and pure.
That lady can't see that thin, beautiful line of blue, that starts at the top, stops at the iris, and runs diagonally to the bottom, that line that dulls with forgiveness. That woman can't imagine the level of self-sacrifice that has been employed to pardon her of her mother's sins, to see her with those flecks, that pool and that triangle, and still take her into an embrace and quiet her sobs.
That other woman, she can't see that one all important fleck. That fleck that gives it that true green color. That fleck which glows in the sunshine, shine in dark, and show every emotion that runs through its owner. That fleck glints when bashful words are spoke, that darkens when those words are returned. That fleck that blazes in equal degrees when she is threatened or when she looks in just the right way. That other woman, she can't see that fleck that portrays every inch, every degree of the love he feels for her.
And that's why, she will never worry about anyone taking Michael Vaughn away. Because once they look at him, look close enough to count at least, they will see that fleck and understand that his eyes, like his soul, might as well bear the name "Sydney Bristow" on them.
And she can see all that, because she's finally close enough.
okay please tell me what you thought!!! i know it was short and kinda bad but thanks for reading!!! if you have trouble following it (i'm not always very coherent) just write me a review saying that, and I'll explain it.}
