TITLE: The Gift
AUTHOR: Teresa Getes
CATEGORY: G, POV Vaughn
SPOILER: "Spirit", season one
INTRO: Ever thought about what Agent Vaughn was thinking when he
bought that gift for Sydney?
DISCLAIMER: I wish I owned them but this person named JJ Abrams
thought of them first…GRRR!
DEAREST READER: This is my first fanfiction ever. Pls. be kind and
send me any feedback: positive or negative to help me improve my
writing skills in honor of the best secret agents in TV history.
SYDNEY/VAUGHN 4-ever!!!
======================================================
"THE GIFT"
What was I doing?
I should have slowed down. I mean, walking that fast, as if my feet
couldn't wait to bring me to the meeting place, was just likely to
attract too much attention. Not really the action of a good CIA
handler. Under the circumstances, it was something I should have
avoided.
It's not like I was running late for that rendezvous with her.
In fact, I was a good fifteen minutes early when I sat down at this
table beside the flower stand.
I looked at the slightly crumpled newspaper I was clutching in my
hands, and beside them, on the table, was the gift. The one I bought
from that antique store. The one I eagerly placed inside the gift
bag with little snowmen on it.
Surprisingly, this feeling of uncertainty broke into my thoughts just
when I should have been doing last minute checking if the place was
clean.
I took the object of my distracted sight and placed it at my feet.
Time enough to worry whether she'd like it or not later.
However, it was no use trying to read the paper. My mind kept
returning to that quaint little antique store.
I couldn't even remember why I went there. I just found myself
inside, looking around that shop. I instantly noticed the
furnitures, their polished surfaces still had that shine after all
those years; the metallic gleam of silver candelabras, some a bit
tarnished; and the glassy white smoothness of porcelain cups and
plates.
She seemed to occupy my mind a whole lot more nowadays, but I
couldn't really explain why that place reminded me of her so
strongly. Maybe it was the atmosphere: classy and elegant. Or, it
could also be the feeling I got being around all those antiques. The
same feeling I get whenever she talks to me. Warm. Inviting. The
very words I would use to describe the way she looks, the way she
moves, the way she speaks.
Oh, and yes…beautiful.
My eyes then fell to that picture frame. At the time, I felt
absolutely sure she would love to put some treasured memory in it. A
classic gift for a classic lady.
I wrenched myself away from my reveries back to the present. Back to
the harsh, dangerous realities we both face every day of our lives.
I had to. She can't afford a moment's loss of my concentration. She
called me her guardian angel once and I guess that is the best gift I
could give her. To keep her alive and well to fight another day.
From a distance, I spotted her right away as she walked towards the
flower stand, that distinctive gait all too familiar to me now. Even
though she seemed to stroll casually, I could tell from the
preoccupied frown on her face that something was bothering her.
In a few more moments, she'll be telling me what that was, and I'll
be trying to reassure her with our latest intel, and then we'll be
doing our own individual worrying. Me about her. Her about SD-6.
Still, as I watched her approaching figure, that feeling
uncontrollably came over me again. It was as if I was back in the
middle of that quaint little antique store.
Classy but warm. Elegant but inviting.
And so, so beautiful.
I forgot. I shouldn't be staring at her.
THE BEGINNING.
AUTHOR: Teresa Getes
CATEGORY: G, POV Vaughn
SPOILER: "Spirit", season one
INTRO: Ever thought about what Agent Vaughn was thinking when he
bought that gift for Sydney?
DISCLAIMER: I wish I owned them but this person named JJ Abrams
thought of them first…GRRR!
DEAREST READER: This is my first fanfiction ever. Pls. be kind and
send me any feedback: positive or negative to help me improve my
writing skills in honor of the best secret agents in TV history.
SYDNEY/VAUGHN 4-ever!!!
======================================================
"THE GIFT"
What was I doing?
I should have slowed down. I mean, walking that fast, as if my feet
couldn't wait to bring me to the meeting place, was just likely to
attract too much attention. Not really the action of a good CIA
handler. Under the circumstances, it was something I should have
avoided.
It's not like I was running late for that rendezvous with her.
In fact, I was a good fifteen minutes early when I sat down at this
table beside the flower stand.
I looked at the slightly crumpled newspaper I was clutching in my
hands, and beside them, on the table, was the gift. The one I bought
from that antique store. The one I eagerly placed inside the gift
bag with little snowmen on it.
Surprisingly, this feeling of uncertainty broke into my thoughts just
when I should have been doing last minute checking if the place was
clean.
I took the object of my distracted sight and placed it at my feet.
Time enough to worry whether she'd like it or not later.
However, it was no use trying to read the paper. My mind kept
returning to that quaint little antique store.
I couldn't even remember why I went there. I just found myself
inside, looking around that shop. I instantly noticed the
furnitures, their polished surfaces still had that shine after all
those years; the metallic gleam of silver candelabras, some a bit
tarnished; and the glassy white smoothness of porcelain cups and
plates.
She seemed to occupy my mind a whole lot more nowadays, but I
couldn't really explain why that place reminded me of her so
strongly. Maybe it was the atmosphere: classy and elegant. Or, it
could also be the feeling I got being around all those antiques. The
same feeling I get whenever she talks to me. Warm. Inviting. The
very words I would use to describe the way she looks, the way she
moves, the way she speaks.
Oh, and yes…beautiful.
My eyes then fell to that picture frame. At the time, I felt
absolutely sure she would love to put some treasured memory in it. A
classic gift for a classic lady.
I wrenched myself away from my reveries back to the present. Back to
the harsh, dangerous realities we both face every day of our lives.
I had to. She can't afford a moment's loss of my concentration. She
called me her guardian angel once and I guess that is the best gift I
could give her. To keep her alive and well to fight another day.
From a distance, I spotted her right away as she walked towards the
flower stand, that distinctive gait all too familiar to me now. Even
though she seemed to stroll casually, I could tell from the
preoccupied frown on her face that something was bothering her.
In a few more moments, she'll be telling me what that was, and I'll
be trying to reassure her with our latest intel, and then we'll be
doing our own individual worrying. Me about her. Her about SD-6.
Still, as I watched her approaching figure, that feeling
uncontrollably came over me again. It was as if I was back in the
middle of that quaint little antique store.
Classy but warm. Elegant but inviting.
And so, so beautiful.
I forgot. I shouldn't be staring at her.
THE BEGINNING.
