Title: Don't
Author: ReeCee
Feedback: If you'd like to give it, then I'd love to get it. lol No pressure.
E-mail: dangerous_angel@2die4.com
Distribution: Here! lol I'm not sure if my stuff is really up to par with everyone else's so I have no idea WHY you'd want to. . . but if you do. Thanks! Just email me and tell me where.
Disclaimer: Do I really need to? . . . (sigh) NOT MINE. Capiche? Besides, JJ Abrams is God to my Alias world.
A/N: Haven't gotten the beta-ed version back yet. . . so all mistakes are mine to brood over. Feel free to point stuff out.
He sat inconspicuously in the last booth of a small, homey café. His eyebrows were knit together; his green eyes clouded over to a mere a shadow of their usual bright color. To anyone who had even noticed him, he was the epitome of concentration.
In reality, he was stewing in his own jealousy and confusion, two elements that when thrown together as haphazardly as they had been for him in the last six months or so, unfailingly brought out the worst in people.
Two nights ago, he had met her at the warehouse. Two nights ago, she had cried to him over yet another lost love. Two nights ago he has held her close as sobs ravaged her body. Two nights ago she had buried her head in the crook of his neck, clutching him, melting into him and making him melt for her.
Two nights ago, he had snapped.
He had certainly never meant to lash out at her the way he had, but his heart had suddenly grew tired of playing second string, dropping everything for her at the sound of her broken voice and tears.
"Don't I deserve more than that?" he had asked her. "Can you possibly be so blind to the fact that I care a lot more for you than an average handler would?" She had remained silent as she backed away from him step by step, tears threatening to spill over onto her cheeks yet again. His heart had clenched when he realized that this time, it was him who had caused the pain.
"Syd, I - Don't cry."
"I'm sorry, Vaughn," she had whispered when she finally reached the opposite side of the room, her fingers locking desperately to the chain- link fence behind her for support.
He had simply shook his head: "Don't. Don't apologize unless you really mean it." He turned away from her then, busying himself with packing up his briefcase, a futile attempt at hiding his misty eyes.
Almost all the papers that had been spread out on the table concerning her counter-mission had been shoved into his briefcase before she spoke again. "I'm sorry, Vaughn. I'm so sorry." Before he could respond, she was gone in a whirlwind of brown hair and the hurried clicking of heels.
She had walked away from him, breaking his already bleeding heart.
He shook his head, breaking out of his reverie, suddenly returned to his booth in the café. "I'm sorry, too," he whispered, earning him curious look from the waitress waiting to take his order.
He smiled weakly at her, softly ordering, "Coffee. Black."
The waitress raised an eyebrow at him before nodding her head. She tucked her brown hair behind her ear before turning and walking away.
Brown hair.
//Like Sydney's.//
Frustrated, he shook himself mentally and closed his eyes. After taking a few cleansing breaths, he opened them again and looked out the window, intent on occupying himself with the outside world.
//Yellow car. Black motorcycle. Woman pushing a baby stroller. Blue bike. Sydney. Old lady. Green. . .
Wait. . . Sydney?//
All of a sudden, his cell phone was pressed to his ear, Sydney's voice coming across the line loud and clear.
"Hello?" she asked.
He answered with silence.
"Um, hello?"
He could see her face clearly from where he sat. She had her eyebrows furrowed, waiting impatiently for an answer.
"I'm gonna hang. . ."
He took a deep breath. "Syd."
Silence.
"Vaughn?" she asked timidly. He saw her stance change and predicted the anger that was to follow.
"Are you insane? Are you trying to get us both killed?" she hissed. "What if I had been with my friends? God, you just don't THINK sometimes!"
"You aren't. With someone, that is," he replied coolly. "I can see you from where I am." He watched amused as her head shot up and craned around to look for his familiar face. "I don't see you." she started.
"Coffee's great on a day like today," he replied before hanging up on her.
She stared dumbfounded at her phone before glancing up to figure out his clue. She smiled smartly when her eyes found the café's little sign swinging in the slight breeze: "Home Style Coffee."
She pushed the front door open, alerting the lone waitress to a new customer. Acknowledging her with a nod, Sydney turned to scan the sparse crowd, not seeing him. Sighing, she began to walk slowly towards the back where she had a feeling he would be, sitting in the soft shadow of the setting sun.
He watched as she pulled out her cell phone and pressed a button, holding the phone to her ear. Suddenly, his phone was dancing around on the table beside his hand, alerting Sydney to his whereabouts. He grabbed it, attempting to silence it by shoving it back in his pocket.
Smirking, she glided towards him, slipping into the seat across from him.
"Hi," she said, looking straight into his eyes.
"Hey yourself," he replied, before averting his gaze.
"About the other night," Sydney started, before being interrupted by the waitress.
"Anything for you, miss?"
"Uh, you wouldn't happen to serve chai tea here, would you?" The waitress nodded, before walking away.
"Um, as I was saying. . ."
And then he scared her, scared himself with the vehemence in his voice. "Don't."
She stopped short, lowering her head like a student caught talking in class.
"You know," he sighed wistfully, "I never expected to get an agent like you. Hell, I never expected to get an agent, period. I was Vaughn, the desk guy. The smart one. The one who had all the answers. And then all of a sudden Devlin's sending me to you, telling me to shape up and get into handler mode. Handler mode! It had been almost 5 years since the last time I even had remote experience as a handler." He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, rubbing them furiously before taking a chance to look at her. She was watching him intently, chewing silently on the edge of her finger.
"Don't do that," he said before shifting in his seat. She immediately dropped her hand into her lap, opening her mouth to speak. But he was shaking his head. "I'm not done."
Turning to look out the window, he continued, "From the moment I saw you, I knew. I KNEW, Sydney. I had no doubt in my mind whatsoever that you were going to change my life. I knew that I would fall far you, if I hadn't fallen for you already." He snuck a glance at her by way of the window's reflection. She was struggling to hold back her tears.
"I should have known better. I should have dropped your case the second I knew I couldn't separate my two lives. I'm forbidden by CIA protocol to mix business with pleasure. I just ignored it every time someone hinted at my 'growing emotional attachment.' I ignored it all. All because I fell for you and wanted to make sure you came back in one piece. London, Calcutta, Montreal, Taipei, Paris. . . I needed to make sure I could bring you home. I didn't trust anyone else to do it."
At that moment, a steaming mug of chai tea was placed in front of Sydney. "Everything alright here?" the waitress asked.
Sydney looked up at her with tearful eyes. "Yeah, uh. . . " - Checking her nametag - "Mandy. . . We're. . . umm, breaking up, so to speak." Mandy nodded sympathetically before walking away again.
Turning back to him, Sydney began to speak before he could start up again. "I know. I knew what you felt. I felt it too, but I didn't want to at first. I started to question my sanity to try and find love so. . . . So soon after losing Danny. It almost felt like I was betraying him. This. . . connection between us? It used to hurt me so much. But I'm ready now. I want to pursue this. I want to meet with you in little cafés so we can just be together. I want to look you in the eyes and tell you exactly what I'm feeling, thinking." She blushed then, but continued. "But until SD-6 is taken down, I can't risk our lives like that. We're risking everything just by being here right now."
Vaughn nodded. "I know." Another sigh escaped his lips. "Sydney, the CIA's beginning to question my emotional stability, whether or not I can handle being your handler. They're right to do so. I can't even stay objective anymore when I've got you on comm. I risk your safety and compromise our mission every time I oversee your counters. I can't. . ." sighing deeply, he looked directly at her for the first time that day, holding her gaze. "I can't be your handler anymore."
"Shut up. Don't fuck around with me," she whispered before looking down at her tea and swirling it around with her cinnamon stick.
Shaking his head and reaching across the table for her hand, he replied, "I can't. I won't do it anymore. I refuse to endanger you any more than I already have. One of these days, if I stay on as your handler, I'll get you killed."
She closed her eyes and pulled away from him defiantly.
"Anyway, it doesn't matter. There's no going back. I withdrew my position as your handler and requested a transfer this morning." Her eyes shot up to meet his, her tears forming streak marks as her mascara began to run.
"I know that you think I'm doing this to hurt you, but I'm not. I'm trying to do what's best for me. It's been so long since I've thought about anyone else but you. But I need to take care of myself now, Sydney." Running his hands through his hair, he leaned back into the booth. "Weiss is going to be taking over your case. You will by no means ever have to worry about being left with Lambert. I'll still be around, checking up on you, but you will not be my prime objective anymore. I'll most likely be operating from another branch."
Sydney had somewhat calmed down, an occasional sob escaping from her lips. "I understand," she whispered. "You were right. What you said at the warehouse? It's true. I know you deserve more than this. . . More than me. I hope you. . . find someone who can take away the pain. Someone to love. Someone to live for."
He shook his head ruefully. "I'm not running away to be with some other woman, Syd. There's no one else for me but you. I just need to separate myself from you so that I can still be the man that you love. The longer I stay, the more I'll lose who I really am." Taking her hand again, he whispered, "You won't love what I've become. I promise you, Syd. The day SD- 6 falls I will be waiting for you to come out of Credit Dauphine. I am going to hold you and never let you go. That's what I'm looking forward to."
And then with a glance at his watch, he stood. "I need to get out of here." She stood as well, facing him but not looking at him.
"Goodbye, Michael." His heart stopped.
Breathing in deeply, he whispered, "Goodbye, Sydney."
Throwing a twenty on the table, he brushed past her. He only made it a few steps before she called out to him. "Michael. . ."
"Don't. . . don't say anything," he said, trying to keep his voice void of the overwhelming feeling of love he felt for the woman behind him, failing miserably.
Cautiously, she walked the few steps to stand in front of him. She put a hand on his shoulder and looked up into his eyes.
"Don't make this harder for us," he whispered.
She gently drew her finger across his lips before letting her own lips meet his in a fleeting kiss filled with a promise of a future together. She pulled away slightly and rested her forehead against his chest.
Vaughn wrapped her in a tight hug and held her for a few moments before pulling away. Nodding, acknowledging her silent vow, he turned away from her and made his way to the door. Pushing it open, he stepped out into the street, darkened by the absence of the sun.
Forcing himself not to look back at her, he shoved his hands into his pockets and began walking down the street before his last bit of resolve crumbled.
Author: ReeCee
Feedback: If you'd like to give it, then I'd love to get it. lol No pressure.
E-mail: dangerous_angel@2die4.com
Distribution: Here! lol I'm not sure if my stuff is really up to par with everyone else's so I have no idea WHY you'd want to. . . but if you do. Thanks! Just email me and tell me where.
Disclaimer: Do I really need to? . . . (sigh) NOT MINE. Capiche? Besides, JJ Abrams is God to my Alias world.
A/N: Haven't gotten the beta-ed version back yet. . . so all mistakes are mine to brood over. Feel free to point stuff out.
He sat inconspicuously in the last booth of a small, homey café. His eyebrows were knit together; his green eyes clouded over to a mere a shadow of their usual bright color. To anyone who had even noticed him, he was the epitome of concentration.
In reality, he was stewing in his own jealousy and confusion, two elements that when thrown together as haphazardly as they had been for him in the last six months or so, unfailingly brought out the worst in people.
Two nights ago, he had met her at the warehouse. Two nights ago, she had cried to him over yet another lost love. Two nights ago he has held her close as sobs ravaged her body. Two nights ago she had buried her head in the crook of his neck, clutching him, melting into him and making him melt for her.
Two nights ago, he had snapped.
He had certainly never meant to lash out at her the way he had, but his heart had suddenly grew tired of playing second string, dropping everything for her at the sound of her broken voice and tears.
"Don't I deserve more than that?" he had asked her. "Can you possibly be so blind to the fact that I care a lot more for you than an average handler would?" She had remained silent as she backed away from him step by step, tears threatening to spill over onto her cheeks yet again. His heart had clenched when he realized that this time, it was him who had caused the pain.
"Syd, I - Don't cry."
"I'm sorry, Vaughn," she had whispered when she finally reached the opposite side of the room, her fingers locking desperately to the chain- link fence behind her for support.
He had simply shook his head: "Don't. Don't apologize unless you really mean it." He turned away from her then, busying himself with packing up his briefcase, a futile attempt at hiding his misty eyes.
Almost all the papers that had been spread out on the table concerning her counter-mission had been shoved into his briefcase before she spoke again. "I'm sorry, Vaughn. I'm so sorry." Before he could respond, she was gone in a whirlwind of brown hair and the hurried clicking of heels.
She had walked away from him, breaking his already bleeding heart.
He shook his head, breaking out of his reverie, suddenly returned to his booth in the café. "I'm sorry, too," he whispered, earning him curious look from the waitress waiting to take his order.
He smiled weakly at her, softly ordering, "Coffee. Black."
The waitress raised an eyebrow at him before nodding her head. She tucked her brown hair behind her ear before turning and walking away.
Brown hair.
//Like Sydney's.//
Frustrated, he shook himself mentally and closed his eyes. After taking a few cleansing breaths, he opened them again and looked out the window, intent on occupying himself with the outside world.
//Yellow car. Black motorcycle. Woman pushing a baby stroller. Blue bike. Sydney. Old lady. Green. . .
Wait. . . Sydney?//
All of a sudden, his cell phone was pressed to his ear, Sydney's voice coming across the line loud and clear.
"Hello?" she asked.
He answered with silence.
"Um, hello?"
He could see her face clearly from where he sat. She had her eyebrows furrowed, waiting impatiently for an answer.
"I'm gonna hang. . ."
He took a deep breath. "Syd."
Silence.
"Vaughn?" she asked timidly. He saw her stance change and predicted the anger that was to follow.
"Are you insane? Are you trying to get us both killed?" she hissed. "What if I had been with my friends? God, you just don't THINK sometimes!"
"You aren't. With someone, that is," he replied coolly. "I can see you from where I am." He watched amused as her head shot up and craned around to look for his familiar face. "I don't see you." she started.
"Coffee's great on a day like today," he replied before hanging up on her.
She stared dumbfounded at her phone before glancing up to figure out his clue. She smiled smartly when her eyes found the café's little sign swinging in the slight breeze: "Home Style Coffee."
She pushed the front door open, alerting the lone waitress to a new customer. Acknowledging her with a nod, Sydney turned to scan the sparse crowd, not seeing him. Sighing, she began to walk slowly towards the back where she had a feeling he would be, sitting in the soft shadow of the setting sun.
He watched as she pulled out her cell phone and pressed a button, holding the phone to her ear. Suddenly, his phone was dancing around on the table beside his hand, alerting Sydney to his whereabouts. He grabbed it, attempting to silence it by shoving it back in his pocket.
Smirking, she glided towards him, slipping into the seat across from him.
"Hi," she said, looking straight into his eyes.
"Hey yourself," he replied, before averting his gaze.
"About the other night," Sydney started, before being interrupted by the waitress.
"Anything for you, miss?"
"Uh, you wouldn't happen to serve chai tea here, would you?" The waitress nodded, before walking away.
"Um, as I was saying. . ."
And then he scared her, scared himself with the vehemence in his voice. "Don't."
She stopped short, lowering her head like a student caught talking in class.
"You know," he sighed wistfully, "I never expected to get an agent like you. Hell, I never expected to get an agent, period. I was Vaughn, the desk guy. The smart one. The one who had all the answers. And then all of a sudden Devlin's sending me to you, telling me to shape up and get into handler mode. Handler mode! It had been almost 5 years since the last time I even had remote experience as a handler." He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, rubbing them furiously before taking a chance to look at her. She was watching him intently, chewing silently on the edge of her finger.
"Don't do that," he said before shifting in his seat. She immediately dropped her hand into her lap, opening her mouth to speak. But he was shaking his head. "I'm not done."
Turning to look out the window, he continued, "From the moment I saw you, I knew. I KNEW, Sydney. I had no doubt in my mind whatsoever that you were going to change my life. I knew that I would fall far you, if I hadn't fallen for you already." He snuck a glance at her by way of the window's reflection. She was struggling to hold back her tears.
"I should have known better. I should have dropped your case the second I knew I couldn't separate my two lives. I'm forbidden by CIA protocol to mix business with pleasure. I just ignored it every time someone hinted at my 'growing emotional attachment.' I ignored it all. All because I fell for you and wanted to make sure you came back in one piece. London, Calcutta, Montreal, Taipei, Paris. . . I needed to make sure I could bring you home. I didn't trust anyone else to do it."
At that moment, a steaming mug of chai tea was placed in front of Sydney. "Everything alright here?" the waitress asked.
Sydney looked up at her with tearful eyes. "Yeah, uh. . . " - Checking her nametag - "Mandy. . . We're. . . umm, breaking up, so to speak." Mandy nodded sympathetically before walking away again.
Turning back to him, Sydney began to speak before he could start up again. "I know. I knew what you felt. I felt it too, but I didn't want to at first. I started to question my sanity to try and find love so. . . . So soon after losing Danny. It almost felt like I was betraying him. This. . . connection between us? It used to hurt me so much. But I'm ready now. I want to pursue this. I want to meet with you in little cafés so we can just be together. I want to look you in the eyes and tell you exactly what I'm feeling, thinking." She blushed then, but continued. "But until SD-6 is taken down, I can't risk our lives like that. We're risking everything just by being here right now."
Vaughn nodded. "I know." Another sigh escaped his lips. "Sydney, the CIA's beginning to question my emotional stability, whether or not I can handle being your handler. They're right to do so. I can't even stay objective anymore when I've got you on comm. I risk your safety and compromise our mission every time I oversee your counters. I can't. . ." sighing deeply, he looked directly at her for the first time that day, holding her gaze. "I can't be your handler anymore."
"Shut up. Don't fuck around with me," she whispered before looking down at her tea and swirling it around with her cinnamon stick.
Shaking his head and reaching across the table for her hand, he replied, "I can't. I won't do it anymore. I refuse to endanger you any more than I already have. One of these days, if I stay on as your handler, I'll get you killed."
She closed her eyes and pulled away from him defiantly.
"Anyway, it doesn't matter. There's no going back. I withdrew my position as your handler and requested a transfer this morning." Her eyes shot up to meet his, her tears forming streak marks as her mascara began to run.
"I know that you think I'm doing this to hurt you, but I'm not. I'm trying to do what's best for me. It's been so long since I've thought about anyone else but you. But I need to take care of myself now, Sydney." Running his hands through his hair, he leaned back into the booth. "Weiss is going to be taking over your case. You will by no means ever have to worry about being left with Lambert. I'll still be around, checking up on you, but you will not be my prime objective anymore. I'll most likely be operating from another branch."
Sydney had somewhat calmed down, an occasional sob escaping from her lips. "I understand," she whispered. "You were right. What you said at the warehouse? It's true. I know you deserve more than this. . . More than me. I hope you. . . find someone who can take away the pain. Someone to love. Someone to live for."
He shook his head ruefully. "I'm not running away to be with some other woman, Syd. There's no one else for me but you. I just need to separate myself from you so that I can still be the man that you love. The longer I stay, the more I'll lose who I really am." Taking her hand again, he whispered, "You won't love what I've become. I promise you, Syd. The day SD- 6 falls I will be waiting for you to come out of Credit Dauphine. I am going to hold you and never let you go. That's what I'm looking forward to."
And then with a glance at his watch, he stood. "I need to get out of here." She stood as well, facing him but not looking at him.
"Goodbye, Michael." His heart stopped.
Breathing in deeply, he whispered, "Goodbye, Sydney."
Throwing a twenty on the table, he brushed past her. He only made it a few steps before she called out to him. "Michael. . ."
"Don't. . . don't say anything," he said, trying to keep his voice void of the overwhelming feeling of love he felt for the woman behind him, failing miserably.
Cautiously, she walked the few steps to stand in front of him. She put a hand on his shoulder and looked up into his eyes.
"Don't make this harder for us," he whispered.
She gently drew her finger across his lips before letting her own lips meet his in a fleeting kiss filled with a promise of a future together. She pulled away slightly and rested her forehead against his chest.
Vaughn wrapped her in a tight hug and held her for a few moments before pulling away. Nodding, acknowledging her silent vow, he turned away from her and made his way to the door. Pushing it open, he stepped out into the street, darkened by the absence of the sun.
Forcing himself not to look back at her, he shoved his hands into his pockets and began walking down the street before his last bit of resolve crumbled.