Title: Work and Play
Author: AsianScaper
Fandom: Alias
Characters/Pairings: Lauren/Syd, Vaughn
Summary: A day in the office.
Spoilers: Season 3
Rating/Warnings: PG - for mature themes
Genre: General
Dedication: To slash writers everywhere.
Feedback/Archiving: Feel free to send me an email to
Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine, except for the Reaper and the IT guy Raimes; I don't own the show because if I did, a lot of naughtiness would ensue.

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Hers was a rather tensely modified office at this point, most everyone had shifted to neither talking nor interacting with her. This was the mood after every mission she concluded. Needless to say, there had been two since Sunday. It was Friday.

To Lauren, the office was on perpetual delay. Twenty hours after the ordeal, she was neither triumphant nor preening through her latest cavalcade, having gone through those motions in the comfort (and privacy) of her home. She spent last night watching an uncomplicated B movie and counting (offhand) the calories of buttered popcorn she was consuming.

Her particular space here, with her desk and computer and somewhat uncomfortable chair, possessed the dullness of routine; a harrowing succession that had gone uninterrupted for the past few days. The only real excitement to be had was the plethora of precarious missions she had succeeded in, almost brusquely, with unparalleled finesse. All in secret of course, but celebrated by parties far removed from the CIA.

She had garnered one very ugly gash on her palm from the last foray, burnt through by heated handle-bars while she'd hurried out of an escape hatch. Wrapped in bandages and the tell-tale sign of blood appearing ever so slightly at the area of her thumb, her hand made a move for her coffee mug.

Ouch. She shifted her mug to her better hand.

Sip.

"Ahhh," she sighed, puckering her lips as she flipped through another page of building schematics. Another sigh and she was tapping her foot to an imaginary beat.

Oh no, it couldn't be mistaken for simple boredom, these acts. Sitting at an office and reviewing all and possible scenarios in one sweeping, brown-envelope-report held a thrill in itself, no matter how technical it got and challenging to the imagination.

In a few minutes, however, Lauren Reed leaned back into her chair, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples, slapping the envelope onto her desk. She allowed her mug some breeze-laden minutes to render it more palatable.

"Ms. Reed, good morning," someone said, her voice dutifully neutral. The intruder gracefully (if not irritatingly) strode towards her in long, powerful legs, sporting a lacerating smile that neither brightened nor improved Lauren's day.

Lauren could see their mutual hearth of dislike lighting itself, boiling a verbal brew.

"Good morning, Sydney," Lauren returned, Bristow's first name slipping coolly and easily through the smiling arch of her lips.

"Good, is it? Glad to hear that," Sydney echoed, stopping right by Lauren's desk to examine the contents of her workplace. Sydney didn't seem too interested in anything except on (perhaps) erring against Lauren herself and (God forbid) cracking Lauren's façade to discover some form of treachery hiding beneath. Lauren, being as good as she was, didn't entertain the latter thought and didn't worry. She was supremely confident in her abilities to be covert.

"You seem to be working on something new," Sydney added, peering over to Lauren's brown envelope and then glancing at her injured hand.

Lauren, in the event of controlling her temper (and not at all soothed by that single sip of caffeine), held her own by calmly glaring at Sydney's coolly complacent eyes. They were chillingly dark and convinced her that this conversation was a low attempt at controversy.

"I hope you don't injure yourself cooking for Vaughn again." She indicated Lauren's blistered hand, her eyes laughing.

"Or not because I could've used this hand to wreak damage on more friendly," she bit the word and continued, "fronts." The truth of her words reeked but she made no indication of the fact.

"Oh?" Sydney chuckled, more amused than threatened. She stepped back nonetheless, making a show of checking her timepiece. "Half past ten. Better get going." She retreated in the flurry of a nicely tailored pant-suit and her brunette-embedded splendor.

Lauren couldn't help but mutter her aversion.

!-!-!-!-!-!

Lauren Reed, well into the confines of the small passageway which led to the comfort rooms, stole a minute glance at the brunette and frowned. There were certain things about her ethic that required her to hate Sydney Bristow; one, she was a hindrance to her plans, owning an intelligence that Lauren couldn't help but admire and two, Sydney had single-handedly driven a rather colossal stake between Vaughn and herself. That was certainly far from healthy.

Lauren's agenda included a whole lot more allure, at the thought of throwing a secret top agent off her pedestal and off balance. Though, she was careful to note that such daring underestimations would be paid for in blood.

"Ms. Reed, good morning," a colleague said.

"Hello, Raimes."

"You look rather apprehensive, Ms. Reed." Raimes raised a brow, his cheeks clinching in a half-smile. He left a pile of papers on her desk, and told her, "Does your computer need a bit of tweaking? I've heard some complaints over at division E."

"No, no. Everything's working fine." It was one thing to share an accent with Raimes, and quite another to impart details of her life. The IT shrugged and hurried off to his respective errand, aware that the blonde, femme fatale had nothing more to say.

Her cellular beeped. A call. From the Red Reaper.

Her hand began to throb.

"Hello, Reed here," she answered genially.

The Beer Hold Parking Lot, twenty two hundred hours. Tonight.

"Of course," she said, smiling widely, pretending that the person she was talking to at the other line was an old friend. "A drink couldn't hurt."

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Author's Notes: I haven't seen a single episode of "Alias" but I've always been very intriged by the idea of Lauren and Sydney. Adding to the pool of Lauren/Syd slash is a world of fun so I hope you enjoy this story as much as I love writing it. Be sure to give me your views! I love hearing from readers and writers alike.