He could smell her before she opened the door. It was not just the normal scent of the amazingly beautiful Sydney Bristow – some sort of flowery scent that Weiss could not identify – but also the musk of alcohol that hung in the air around her this Friday night.
"Eric," she exclaimed with a wide grin on her face. It was obvious that she was pretty blasted as she wobbled a little against the door, using it as support. Why hadn't she waited for me?
Weiss was never a heavy drinker – in college or out – but recently he'd taken it up as an activity to share with Sydney. There were probably better things they could do, things he would have enjoyed more; like bowling or movies. He didn't ever want to push her though; she was depressed after two years of being presumed dead and upon her return having to come to grips with the fact that the man she deeply loved was married to another woman. Not a very nice one, at that. So they just sat at her place and talked.
It had started out as a few innocent beers, and they never drank for the sole purpose of getting drunk. Mostly, they did it because they both needed the company. He hadn't had a girlfriend in quite a few years. He was lonely. That was the excuse for spending countless nights drinking beers with her. He kept telling himself that that was truth. He was also there to be her shoulder to cry on. He was her friend after all and that's what friends do. Most nights, it was just casual banter, commiseration and a pair of Bud Lights. However, tonight she had been into the harder stuff, tequila
"Oh look, tequila!" He exclaimed sarcastically, rolling his eyes and snatching it from her hand. He walked into the living room and she shut the door.
"Have some!" She smiled at him. He had never acquired the taste for tequila. Tonight wouldn't be the night that that changed. He sat down on her large, tan sectional couch and sunk in immediately. She slammed down next to him, her momentum bouncing her back up slightly before coming to rest.
"What happened today, Syd?" He could tell she was bothered about something.
"Nothing." He wasn't convinced. "I just really hate Lauren, you know?"
"I know."
"It's been a few months now. I can't wish that their marriage is going to break up. I just need to face it, I got kidnapped at the wrong time and Vaughn got married to another girl. Hazard of the job I suppose."
"Sydney, it isn't unreasonable for you to still be in love with him. It was two long years for him, but it didn't seem like that to you."
"I know. But he's changed so much. He's so much darker and quieter now."
"That's because he lost you. Believe it or not, he didn't do so well either after we thought you were dead. He spent quite a few lonely, depressed nights. He couldn't keep feeling that way though, it was affecting his ability to live. He had to let you go. It was hard but he did. Now he is the man you see today. I think he's doing pretty well for going through all that. I know I'd be devastated if I lost a beautiful girl like you, the woman I loved."
"Aww, Eric," she snuggled against him. He now noticed she was wearing only a floral slip dress with high heels. The dress was surprisingly thin and silky against his arm. "Can I have some more?" She was of course referring to the tequila.
"I think you've had enough for the night," Weiss laughed, setting the bottle far away on a glass table.
"No, I'm good. I really am. I can still say the alphabet backwards. Z – Y –X – W," she stopped.
"How about we talk about something else," he suggested.
"Why don't you have a girlfriend, Weiss?" It was not a question he expected her to ask. If it were anyone else, he wouldn't have answered, but this was Sydney. Talking about personal issues was their thing. He supposed the alcohol did him no favors either.
"Wow, I don't know. I guess I just don't know any girls who are interesting enough, or better yet who are interested in me. Benjamin Franklin said that. "The most interesting girl is the one who is interested in me." It's true, very true." He smiled, feeling pleased to have mostly avoided the precariousness of the question.
"There are plenty of interesting girls at the CIA. You are telling me you don't have a crush on any of them?" She idly tapped her fingers lightly up and down his arm. It took all his strength to sit still and act as if the feeling of her skin on his didn't make him want to do bad things to her.
"I'm a little old for crushes, Syd." He let out a nervous chuckle. She was getting incredibly close to making him say something he feared he would regret.
"Come on, there has to be one," she giggled.
"There is one," he sighed deeply.
"What's her name? Do I know her?" She lit up.
"Yes," he nodded. "You know her very well." He attempted not to make eye contact, which was hard, because she was right next to him. Hell, she was nearly on top of him.
"Weiss, it's not Lauren is it?" He looked at her.
"No, it is not Lauren. I am not lusting after Vaughn's wife. He's one of my closest friends!"
"Well, who is it then?" He noticed that she seemed to have sobered up a little in the time he had been there.
"His ex-girlfriend," he whispered.
"Alice?" He turned to face her and didn't reply to that. Why would she have guessed Alice? Sydney never knew Alice well. Did she know what he meant and she was just being coy? He caught her gaze, their eyes locking together and allowed it just stayed there for a moment. He looked away sheepishly. "It's me, isn't it?"
"Of course it is you, Sydney." His eyes remained on the carpet, all the better to hide the fear which now filled them. This is a moment he hoped would never come, at least not like this.
"Eric, I never knew," she leaned close, placing her hand on top of his. Before he knew it, he had turned his hand palm up and had laced his fingers through hers. It seemed somehow normal. "How long," she asked gently.
"Months," was his response. He didn't really know when it had happened. It was somewhere between her first day at the CIA and this very moment. Truth be told, it was probably right after she and Michael got together. He had found himself feeling jealous sometimes.
"Weiss," she started. Why had she chosen Weiss rather than Eric? Was it more or less formal? He decided it was of little consequence.
"Syd, it's alright." He let go of her hand. "You don't have to say anything. I know you don't feel the same way." She could just barely see his eyes. They were sad. She hooked her index finger under his chin and brought his gaze to hers.
"Just because I might not feel exactly the same way, doesn't make your feelings any less important. I spent so much time pining for Vaughn that I don't even know if what I thought I felt for him is real anymore. It certainly isn't realistic. He's a married man. But you are real. The truth is that I enjoy the time we spend together, I like it very much." She paused. "I like you very much."
"Yeah, you and every other girl. I've heard that speech before. I appreciate the sentiment Syd, but really, I'm fine. You asked." He looked away. "Besides you've been drinking. You aren't thinking straight."
"I'm not drunk, Eric. I'm a spy. You don't think I can act? I've had a little but not as much as you think. Certainly not enough to be saying things I don't mean."
"But you were almost falling over when I came in here." He shot a confused look at her.
"It's fun to pretend. It makes you stay longer," she smiled.
"You were playing the whole time? Taking advantage of me. That's not very nice." So that's what the silk dress and the touching had been about. She had this on her mind all night. He was only semi-serious in his frustration. The fact that she was playing at being drunk to get him to stay with her longer was sort of cute. "Why didn't you just say that you wanted me to stay? We could have done something else. I would have stayed."
"Yeah, I guess. I didn't know that for sure. I have thought about us romantically once or twice, you know."
"You have?"
"Sure, it's a logical possibility. We're close friends and these past few months you have been amazing. You've made me feel so safe and comfortable and," she stopped.
"And what?"
". . . loved."
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Was she really saying this? Maybe he had drank some of her tequila and was now, in fact, passed out on her couch and dreaming all of this. He was, however, very much sober and awake.
"I care about you, Sydney." He hesitate, but kissed her on the forehead. She looked up at him with her gorgeous bright eyes.
"Kiss me, Eric." It wasn't really a question or a demand. It was just a string of words that floated out of her mouth and into the air around them.
"What about Vaughn?"
"Have you been listening to me, Eric? Maybe I was pining after the wrong guy all along. It should have been you. You were the one who was here listening to me whine and cry. You, with your big strong arms and your warm embraces. It was you, not Vaughn. I guess what I'm saying is, I'd like to try. You and me." She blinked once or twice and repeated herself. This time it was a demand. "Kiss me, Eric."
He smiled and turned in to face her fully, wrapping his arms around her waist. It felt amazing to hold her. Slowly but surely he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. They felt like velvet and he welcomed her arms as she threw them around his neck. He stopped and pressed his nose against hers. He looked into her eyes and breathed in. She noticed and they took the next breath together. He moved his right hand from her waist to her face, caressing it gently, savoring the freedom with which he could do this. She closed her eyes, almost shivering in response. He smiled. His breath felt warm on her face.
"It's my turn," she smiled and captured his lips with hers.
At some point, several hours later, Weiss awoke – fully clothed on the couch – with Sydney asleep nestled inside his arm. He looked at her and breathed in deeply. God this was amazing.
As it turned out, this was not the night that Eric Weiss realized his loved for tequila, but it was the night that he realized he loved Sydney Bristow.