-1Title: Victim of Love
Author: Lilspy(sd-1)/Lilsurfersango "You're walking a wire, pain and desire, looking for love in between." (Victim of Love by the Eagles) Accompanying the emergence of new feelings is question of what the right thing actually is. Is it sacrificing and doing what everyone expects and wants you to do, or following your heart?
Disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah, I don't own Alias or any of it's characters. Yep, that's right, I. Own. Nothing. I don't even own a car (yet).
A/N: I haven't decided if this will simply be a one-parter or a fanfic, comments about this decision would be greatly appreciated. In order to understand this story you need to know: this takes place after the Series Finale, John is not yet born, and Syd and Vaughn are not yet married.
Dedication: To any reader who has cared enough to read even a chapter of any one of my stories, this is for you.
Suggested Listening: Victim of Love by the Eagles

Prologue(?)

Sydney's POV
The wind blew in through the windows of the house, brushing past my skin and blowing up my hair with in a quiet frenzy. I looked out onto my front yard- a section of the beautiful secluded beach. I was all alone in the house wearing a white peasant shirt and a floor length black ruffle skirt; Vaughn had gone with Isabelle to "pick something out for mommy." I didn't want to spoil their fun so I didn't let on that I was pretty sure what they were shopping for was a beautiful diamond ring to go on mommy's ring finger. The engagement had been put off, so that we could deal with all of the emotional situations that we had been handed. I had been waiting for this for a long time; had experienced it once before. However, this time around came hand in hand with a knot in the bottom of my stomach. I had, for the longest time, been attempting to assess my relationship with Vaughn, our relationship to the espionage world, my relationship to Isabelle and my love for normalcy and how it would all fit in together. Did we still want the same things? Would we still want the same things a year from now?

What kind of love have you got?
You should be home, but you're not
A room full of noise and dangerous boys
Still make you thirsty and hot

"Well, it's not exactly a white picket fence." a voice commented nearby. His suit showed a hint of a deep power blue shirt underneath.

I spun around on my heel, folding my arms with a sigh. I spoke softly following him with my eyes as he walked up to me. "You shouldn't be here."

I heard about you and that man,
There's just one thing I don't understand
He say he's a liar, and he put out your fire
How come you still got his gun in your hand?

He stopped a good 5 inches away from me, staring down intently. "I wouldn't be here if you didn't want me to be."

He awaited my answer, never faltering to continue this staring contest with me before he gently pushed away a rogue strand of hair in my face.

I closed my eyes briefly, uncrossing my arms. "You shouldn't be here," I repeated.

Victim of love, I see a broken heart
You've got your stories to tell
Victim of love, it's such an easy part,
And you know how to play it so well

I felt him trace the outline of my face. "You already know my answer to that statement."

I pulled away. A single tear slid down my cheek. "You shouldn't be here. Vaughn loves me."

"That's an interesting defense. One would think you would have stated it the other way around." he pointed out.

"Whatever, you know what I meant." I retorted.

"Of course I do, that's why I'm here, love." He responded confidently, inching forward. Pushing past my invisible barrier.

I could see amusement in those blue eyes.

Some people never come clean
I think you know what I mean
You're walking a wire, pain and desire,
Looking for love in between

He ran his thumb along the side of my face before he leaned in to give me a kiss.

I sighed in his mouth, running my hand through what little hair he was starting to growing again. He pulled me against him, gently.

After a minute I pulled away from him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, searching my eyes for an explanation.

"Isabelle," I replied pushing away from him. "I can't do this to her."

He stood, without a reaction for the longest time.

"This was a mistake, yesterday was a mistake." I told him.

Tell me your secrets, I'll tell you mine
This ain't no time to be cool
And tell all your girlfriends, your been-around-the-world friends
That talk is for losers and fools

"So it's a mistake to be happy?" he questioned softly. So softly I was not quite sure I had heard him properly.

I glanced at my watch. "Vaughn's going to be back soon. With my ring. He's gonna propose."

"I'd say congratulations, Miss Bristow, but you don't seem particularly happy." Sark pointed out, taking a step away from me.

"I am happy.. being in love with Vaughn." I insisted, stubbornly; mentally urging him to understand.

Victim of love, I see a broken heart,
And I could be wrong, but I'm not, no I'm not
Victim of love, we're not so far apart
Show me, what kind of love have you got?

"What kind of love is that? Not only do you not seem the least bit happy, but you were kissing another guy in your living room, while this guy that you "love" is out shopping for your engagement ring. Maybe you Americans have a different definition for it, but i wouldn't call that love."

"Sark," I warned, "Vaughn is going to be back any minute now. So, unless you can wave some magic wand and change everything so they're in the best interest for my daughter-white picket fence and all, I suggest you leave."

Silence followed.

"I didn't think so." I met his eyes, angrily.

"Did you ever consider for a moment that maybe you don't want a white picket fence? That normal might be a teensy bit boring? That Vaughn might not make you happy anymore? That you're attempting to hold onto the idea of him. This good guy, who's caring, the father of your child, knows exactly what you want; what if he no longer exists?" he questioned.

Victim of love, I see a broken heart,
And I could be wrong, but I'm not
Victim of love, we're not so far apart
What kind of love have you got?

"You have to go." I sighed.

"Syd?" a voice called from outside the house. "Can you come here for a sec, we've got a surprise for you."

"Coming!" I yelled before thinking about it and adding, "sweetie."

I glanced at Sark, and then at the area where Vaughn's voice had come from.

"Sydney," Sark surprised me by using my first name. His lips brushed across my briefly before he met my face. "Think about."

I stole a glance at him before I headed outside to meet Vaughn.

"Hey cutie!" I yelled.

"Hey yourself." Vaughn smiled, holding Isabelle. He leaned forward to give me a kiss as I flashed him a smile. I ran a hand through my hair and turned my head so that the kiss ended up on my cheek.

"Actually, I was talking to Isabelle. So, what'd you bring me?" I asked turning back to face him.

"I guess you'll have to open it to find out." he smiled.

What king of love is this? I asked myself.

I unwrapped it quickly and efficiently, revealing a little blue box in which I found a sparkling diamon ring staring back at me. I caught a glimpse of Sark leaving inconspicuously before I glanced down at the ring once more. Another victim of love.

"So, what do you say? Will you accept this proposal, Syd, again?"

Victim of love, you're just a victim of love
And I could be wrong, but I'm not, no I'm not
Victim of love, now you're a victim of love
What kind of love have you got?
What kind of love have you got?
What kind of love have you got?

A/N: I haven't decided if this should turn into a full blown story or remain a one-parter. Please leave an indication as to which you would prefer in your comment. plz. That was kind crap though ...