3am
Author: juliet_ip_31 (juliet_ip_31@yahoo.com)
Part 1/?
Summary: Sydney has been having nightmares. Will she be able to prevent the events from happening?
Spoilers: Takes place before "Masquerade" but I may slip up and reference something later in the season.
Rating: PG
Archive: Credit Dauphine, and if you like the story and want to archive it, just let me know.
Disclaimer: Alias belongs to J.J. Abrams, Bad Robot Productions, Touchstone, and ABC.
Chapter 1 Notes:
I started this before I knew that Vaughn had Donovan. So please forgive that fact.
Special thanks to Lara for betaing and going above and beyond the call of duty. To Amy, who has encouraged me throughout the ordeal and was the first to read the story. To Steph and Karen for making a few more suggestions. And to Jeff who will never know how much he inspires me (and will kill me if he ever reads this sentence).
'3 a.m., right on the nose,' Sydney thought, as she sat up quickly. This had been going on for three months now; it was getting ridiculous. It was always the same dream.
She was on a simple mission. Grab Sloane's latest toy of request, and get back out. It was so simple there wasn't even a CIA countermission. Everything went fine, until she got back to the office. Sloane was the one who told her the bad news. It was Dixon, again. He'd been sent out with a newer agent on what had appeared to be a similarly simple mission. There had been an explosion; he was presumed dead.
It was like clockwork, it always woke her at 3 AM. It always went the same way, and it always ended with the explosion.
She picked up the phone. She hadn't wanted to tell him; she was afraid he'd think she was a freak or something. She lowered the phone, but paused as she rethought her reasoning. He would never think she was a freak. He'd just listen to her cry and hold her in his arms until the tears stopped. She slowly drew the cradle up to her head, and pushed the soundless buttons. One… two… 'What was she doing, calling him this early?' Then she remembered, "When you're at your absolute lowest, at your most depressed, just remember that you can always... you know. You've got my number."
"Awake," he mumbled after about the tenth ring.
"It's me. Meet me in twenty." Security was much tighter lately; it wasn't safe to talk on the phone.
Vaughn slowly shook his head and glared at the red numbers on his alarm clock. '3:03' he thought. 'This can't be good.' He slowly rose from his bed and looked at his companion. Her head rose slightly, at the loss of warmth from the bed, but lowered again just as quickly, after assessing the situation around her.
"Go back to sleep Sydney." He smiled as he rubbed the golden retriever's head, then headed for the bedroom.
**********************************************************
She had been there for thirteen minutes. She knew she shouldn't have sped over there, but enough was enough. She had to tell someone. He opened the gate for her and she immediately began pacing.
"I've been having this dream. It's the same dream. Over and over, always the same…" Okay, so she was rambling. She stopped to clear her head. "Do you remember the mission to France? The Monet painting? That's when it started. I'm on a really simple mission. I don't even know why Sloane picked me to do it; one of the lower level agents could have easily done it. Dixon's not with me. He's with some new agent named Angie. They're after a Rambaldi artifact. It's almost like Sloane wanted them to mess up. Why put me on the easy one and this new agent on a Rambaldi?"
She paused to take a breath and looked up at his eyes. She knew that if he had to, he would listen to her go on and on, forever. He nodded his head to reassure her that he was following.
"The next bit's a little hazy. I can see myself getting off the plane and heading to Credit Dauphine. Sloane knows about my arrival and meets me at the elevator. He guides me into his office and invites me to sit down. I don't remember any of the details; it's as if I'm not supposed to know what really happened. All I can remember is that there was an explosion, and that he's gone."
Vaughn walked over to her and bent down so they were at eye level. He slowly reached up for her head and pulled it to his chest. She knew that he didn't mind the ruined shirts. Her mind flashed back to three years ago, when they had been told the truth about her mother.
After ten minutes, the crying finally stopped. She tilted her head up to catch a glimpse of his eyes. He averted hers and slowly stood up, pulling her with him. He simply guided her to a table and indicated that she should sit down. He went to pull up a chair, but she clutched at his hand and pulled him back to the table, telling him with her eyes that she couldn't bear to be alone just yet.
She could tell, from the look in his eyes, that he was not really sure what to say. "I think." He stopped. "I think you should talk to Barnett."
Sydney stared up at him in shock. She opened her mouth to speak.
He cut her off, "Let me finish. I think you should talk to Barnett, because I think you have every right to be worried. Yes it is just a dream, but I think you need to get the input if someone who knows what they're doing. I don't… I mean… I wish you had told me this sooner. I hate to see you go through such pain, all by yourself."
Her eyes, which had been dark and stormy, softened. No matter how much she resented the idea of going to Barnett, she knew that he wouldn't have suggested it if he didn't think it was really the best idea. "I'm scared Vaughn. I'm really scared. I can't lose someone else. Dixon's like a father to me." She found herself clinging to him again.
"I know," he murmured, as his head rested atop hers. "I know."
They sat like that, for a few more minutes, until her cell phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Syd, where are you? I woke up and went to get a glass of water, and your door was wide open and you were gone. Is everything all right?"
Sydney half-smiled and turned away from Vaughn. "I'm fine. I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep, so I went for a walk."
"But your car's gone." Francie didn't believe Sydney. This wasn't the first time this had happened.
"I decided to take a walk along the pier." She instinctively grabbed Vaughn's hand, remembering (for the second time that night) that cold, blustery night.
"Okay, well come back soon; the sun's about to come up. We could go grab a coffee and just… talk or something."
"I'd love that. Give me another half-an-hour or so, and I'll be back." She clicked the off button as she threw the phone back in her purse. "Francie says the sun's about to come up. Come watch it with me." It wasn't a question, but a demand.
As she headed out of the warehouse, she turned her head around and saw him lingering. Knowing what he was thinking, she called back, "It's a sunrise; no one will be around."
He reluctantly gave in and turned off the lights.
When he finally made it outside, she had already pulled a blanket out of her car and carefully spread it out on a nearby grassy knoll. She waved him over and he thought, 'What the hell, she's probably right.' He quickened his step and sat down.
She lowered her head to his shoulder, inhaling his (surprisingly) fresh scent. If she hadn't known better, she would have sworn he had taken a shower before meeting her. "Mmm," she unconsciously murmured.
"Comfortable?" He asked, letting out a short laugh.
"Very," she smiled. "But not comfortable enough. I can't get a good view from here," she looked up. "Everything's kinda hazy."
He, himself, was getting kind of hazy. Anyone who was watching would have thought they were lovers, enjoying the early morning. He felt his breath hitch, as she lowered her head to his lap. Within minutes she was sound asleep. Almost snoring.
Vaughn watched her carefully, enjoying both her beauty and the beauty surrounding them. Slowly a contented smile crept across her face. He wondered what she was dreaming about; what could cause her to look so content. He softly pushed a stray hair behind her ear.
"Michael," she murmured.
He looked down and saw that she was still sound asleep. He tried with every ounce of strength in him, but couldn't stop the grin that spread across his face. It was nice to know she had dreams about him, too.
**********************************************************
After an hour and-a-half, he decided he should rouse her from her unconscious state. It was around 5:30 and he knew that Francie would be waking up soon, and he didn't want Syd to get caught. He lightly shook her. When she didn't make any movement, he lightly tugged on her hair, feeling like he was in elementary school again.
When she still didn't wake up, he didn't know what to do. He eventually moved her head out of his lap, and she immediately woke up. It was nice knowing that he could provide enough comfort for her to relax so much.
"Vaughn?" She questioned.
"Hey Syd. It's twenty to six. I thought you might want to wake up."
"Oh, right." She was almost disappointed. She could have laid in his lap all day. Forget about SD-6, the CIA, her father, her mother, and even Francie and Will. "I can't believe you let me sleep for so long. You must be exhausted."
"It's okay. It was nice to see you actually relax. Besides, I can sleep at work," he laughed.
"Still. Thank you for everything. You don't know how much I needed that." She leaned over and gave him a quick hug. "I should go," she said, looking at her watch.
He reluctantly agreed. "Take care, Sydney," he called after her. He leaned back, on his elbows, and smiled. This might be an exhausting day, but it would be a good day.
******************************************************************
To Be Continued
Let me know what you think. I'm not going to be one of those people who demand reviews before they post another chapter, but it may be a while before I get the next chapter put up. I hope you liked the first part, but if not que sera.
Author: juliet_ip_31 (juliet_ip_31@yahoo.com)
Part 1/?
Summary: Sydney has been having nightmares. Will she be able to prevent the events from happening?
Spoilers: Takes place before "Masquerade" but I may slip up and reference something later in the season.
Rating: PG
Archive: Credit Dauphine, and if you like the story and want to archive it, just let me know.
Disclaimer: Alias belongs to J.J. Abrams, Bad Robot Productions, Touchstone, and ABC.
Chapter 1 Notes:
I started this before I knew that Vaughn had Donovan. So please forgive that fact.
Special thanks to Lara for betaing and going above and beyond the call of duty. To Amy, who has encouraged me throughout the ordeal and was the first to read the story. To Steph and Karen for making a few more suggestions. And to Jeff who will never know how much he inspires me (and will kill me if he ever reads this sentence).
'3 a.m., right on the nose,' Sydney thought, as she sat up quickly. This had been going on for three months now; it was getting ridiculous. It was always the same dream.
She was on a simple mission. Grab Sloane's latest toy of request, and get back out. It was so simple there wasn't even a CIA countermission. Everything went fine, until she got back to the office. Sloane was the one who told her the bad news. It was Dixon, again. He'd been sent out with a newer agent on what had appeared to be a similarly simple mission. There had been an explosion; he was presumed dead.
It was like clockwork, it always woke her at 3 AM. It always went the same way, and it always ended with the explosion.
She picked up the phone. She hadn't wanted to tell him; she was afraid he'd think she was a freak or something. She lowered the phone, but paused as she rethought her reasoning. He would never think she was a freak. He'd just listen to her cry and hold her in his arms until the tears stopped. She slowly drew the cradle up to her head, and pushed the soundless buttons. One… two… 'What was she doing, calling him this early?' Then she remembered, "When you're at your absolute lowest, at your most depressed, just remember that you can always... you know. You've got my number."
"Awake," he mumbled after about the tenth ring.
"It's me. Meet me in twenty." Security was much tighter lately; it wasn't safe to talk on the phone.
Vaughn slowly shook his head and glared at the red numbers on his alarm clock. '3:03' he thought. 'This can't be good.' He slowly rose from his bed and looked at his companion. Her head rose slightly, at the loss of warmth from the bed, but lowered again just as quickly, after assessing the situation around her.
"Go back to sleep Sydney." He smiled as he rubbed the golden retriever's head, then headed for the bedroom.
**********************************************************
She had been there for thirteen minutes. She knew she shouldn't have sped over there, but enough was enough. She had to tell someone. He opened the gate for her and she immediately began pacing.
"I've been having this dream. It's the same dream. Over and over, always the same…" Okay, so she was rambling. She stopped to clear her head. "Do you remember the mission to France? The Monet painting? That's when it started. I'm on a really simple mission. I don't even know why Sloane picked me to do it; one of the lower level agents could have easily done it. Dixon's not with me. He's with some new agent named Angie. They're after a Rambaldi artifact. It's almost like Sloane wanted them to mess up. Why put me on the easy one and this new agent on a Rambaldi?"
She paused to take a breath and looked up at his eyes. She knew that if he had to, he would listen to her go on and on, forever. He nodded his head to reassure her that he was following.
"The next bit's a little hazy. I can see myself getting off the plane and heading to Credit Dauphine. Sloane knows about my arrival and meets me at the elevator. He guides me into his office and invites me to sit down. I don't remember any of the details; it's as if I'm not supposed to know what really happened. All I can remember is that there was an explosion, and that he's gone."
Vaughn walked over to her and bent down so they were at eye level. He slowly reached up for her head and pulled it to his chest. She knew that he didn't mind the ruined shirts. Her mind flashed back to three years ago, when they had been told the truth about her mother.
After ten minutes, the crying finally stopped. She tilted her head up to catch a glimpse of his eyes. He averted hers and slowly stood up, pulling her with him. He simply guided her to a table and indicated that she should sit down. He went to pull up a chair, but she clutched at his hand and pulled him back to the table, telling him with her eyes that she couldn't bear to be alone just yet.
She could tell, from the look in his eyes, that he was not really sure what to say. "I think." He stopped. "I think you should talk to Barnett."
Sydney stared up at him in shock. She opened her mouth to speak.
He cut her off, "Let me finish. I think you should talk to Barnett, because I think you have every right to be worried. Yes it is just a dream, but I think you need to get the input if someone who knows what they're doing. I don't… I mean… I wish you had told me this sooner. I hate to see you go through such pain, all by yourself."
Her eyes, which had been dark and stormy, softened. No matter how much she resented the idea of going to Barnett, she knew that he wouldn't have suggested it if he didn't think it was really the best idea. "I'm scared Vaughn. I'm really scared. I can't lose someone else. Dixon's like a father to me." She found herself clinging to him again.
"I know," he murmured, as his head rested atop hers. "I know."
They sat like that, for a few more minutes, until her cell phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Syd, where are you? I woke up and went to get a glass of water, and your door was wide open and you were gone. Is everything all right?"
Sydney half-smiled and turned away from Vaughn. "I'm fine. I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep, so I went for a walk."
"But your car's gone." Francie didn't believe Sydney. This wasn't the first time this had happened.
"I decided to take a walk along the pier." She instinctively grabbed Vaughn's hand, remembering (for the second time that night) that cold, blustery night.
"Okay, well come back soon; the sun's about to come up. We could go grab a coffee and just… talk or something."
"I'd love that. Give me another half-an-hour or so, and I'll be back." She clicked the off button as she threw the phone back in her purse. "Francie says the sun's about to come up. Come watch it with me." It wasn't a question, but a demand.
As she headed out of the warehouse, she turned her head around and saw him lingering. Knowing what he was thinking, she called back, "It's a sunrise; no one will be around."
He reluctantly gave in and turned off the lights.
When he finally made it outside, she had already pulled a blanket out of her car and carefully spread it out on a nearby grassy knoll. She waved him over and he thought, 'What the hell, she's probably right.' He quickened his step and sat down.
She lowered her head to his shoulder, inhaling his (surprisingly) fresh scent. If she hadn't known better, she would have sworn he had taken a shower before meeting her. "Mmm," she unconsciously murmured.
"Comfortable?" He asked, letting out a short laugh.
"Very," she smiled. "But not comfortable enough. I can't get a good view from here," she looked up. "Everything's kinda hazy."
He, himself, was getting kind of hazy. Anyone who was watching would have thought they were lovers, enjoying the early morning. He felt his breath hitch, as she lowered her head to his lap. Within minutes she was sound asleep. Almost snoring.
Vaughn watched her carefully, enjoying both her beauty and the beauty surrounding them. Slowly a contented smile crept across her face. He wondered what she was dreaming about; what could cause her to look so content. He softly pushed a stray hair behind her ear.
"Michael," she murmured.
He looked down and saw that she was still sound asleep. He tried with every ounce of strength in him, but couldn't stop the grin that spread across his face. It was nice to know she had dreams about him, too.
**********************************************************
After an hour and-a-half, he decided he should rouse her from her unconscious state. It was around 5:30 and he knew that Francie would be waking up soon, and he didn't want Syd to get caught. He lightly shook her. When she didn't make any movement, he lightly tugged on her hair, feeling like he was in elementary school again.
When she still didn't wake up, he didn't know what to do. He eventually moved her head out of his lap, and she immediately woke up. It was nice knowing that he could provide enough comfort for her to relax so much.
"Vaughn?" She questioned.
"Hey Syd. It's twenty to six. I thought you might want to wake up."
"Oh, right." She was almost disappointed. She could have laid in his lap all day. Forget about SD-6, the CIA, her father, her mother, and even Francie and Will. "I can't believe you let me sleep for so long. You must be exhausted."
"It's okay. It was nice to see you actually relax. Besides, I can sleep at work," he laughed.
"Still. Thank you for everything. You don't know how much I needed that." She leaned over and gave him a quick hug. "I should go," she said, looking at her watch.
He reluctantly agreed. "Take care, Sydney," he called after her. He leaned back, on his elbows, and smiled. This might be an exhausting day, but it would be a good day.
******************************************************************
To Be Continued
Let me know what you think. I'm not going to be one of those people who demand reviews before they post another chapter, but it may be a while before I get the next chapter put up. I hope you liked the first part, but if not que sera.