"The Banana Things"

It was almost 6:45 AM, and she knew he would be early. He was always early. It was really annoying. Especially since she was only just finished with her hair and still needed to do some face work. Battling the clock she put on a quick layer of make-up and wondered why she had told him 7. It seemed like a good idea last night. They would have an hour and a half till they needed to leave for the office giving them plenty of time to talk, or yell, or whatever they would end up doing. She had just finished her eyes and it was 6:55. She was amazed to find he still wasn't here. Shutting off the bathroom light and walking toward the kitchen she gave a long glance to the front door.

Reaching to a top cupboard she pulled down her cookbook and opened to the page that was still marked with his favorite. It had been an experiment a long time ago. She had wanted to make something different, and he was her guinea pig. They had come home exhausted only to find that there was no food in the house except some speckled bananas, a few nuts, and the basics for baking. She had fought it saying they could not have pancakes for dinner, but he insisted. It was nice. There was nothing spectacular about that night except him discovering his favorite pancakes. But it was easy. It was exactly what he had said last night. It was comfortable to be with him. She missed that. She missed the way that being with him could turn ordinary pancakes into something memorable. The doorbell rang, startling her from her reverie. 7:04 AM. He was late.

She opened the door to a Vaughn she had not seen in a while. He looked happy. It was a pleasant sight, but at the same time disconcerting to realize she had not seen his smile in so long.

"Come in," she offered. He did, shedding his now standard leather jacket, just one of the visible things that had changed about him. She wondered if he even noticed. She did. She noticed all of the physical things that had changed—his clothes, his hair, his face. He looked older. It was not surprising, but it was evident. His now smiling eyes looked at her and he was struck with the awkwardness of the situation again. Should he hug her? Kiss her? How do you say hello to someone you were in love with, but did not know? She felt it too and stepped away, taking his jacket with her and giving it a toss toward the back of the couch. "You're late."

"Yeah it's, it's a bad habit."

"Really?" Interesting. "Well, I was running behind anyway, so would you slice the bananas for me?" He did not answer; he just moved to the counter next to her where she had the cutting board and bananas poised for their demise. He tested the sharpness of the knife with his thumb, and set it down to choose another one from the knife block, and repeating the process twice more. She giggled at this, causing confusion in him.

"What?" he asked.

"Vaughn, seriously? They're bananas. You could cut them with a butter knife."

"Right. Occupational hazard." He smiled picking up the original knife again.

"Just make sure they're all the same size or they'll cook differently."

"For which I will need a sharper knife."

"Just do it, Vaughn." She was already laughing. She could barely remember the last time she had laughed this early in the morning. As of late, mornings had been the worst part of her days. This was not going to be one of those days.

"Oui, Mademoiselle." he smiled and impulsively and innocently kissed her lips. He stopped short of vertical and a guilty mask came down over his face. "Sorry, I didn't... Sorry."

"It's okay." she answered. He looked down to the bananas and began his task, refusing to meet her eyes. "Vaughn?" she said quietly. "Michael, look at me." He did so, but with difficulty. He reminded her of a child about to be grounded, and she smiled softly.

"I didn't mean to, I'm sorry," he repeated again.

"I know, and I mean it Vaughn, it's really okay."

"It's so hard, Syd. To be with you, here, in your kitchen for God's sakes, and not be the way we used to be."

"I know. That's why I'm telling you, it's okay." His guilty face was replaced with one of confusion as he tried to understand what she was saying.

"Are you saying that—" he was interrupted by her soft smile colliding with his words as she kissed him sweetly but briefly. "So you're saying, you liked it?"

"Always did. Some things don't change." She went back to her flour and sugar and he turned down to his bananas. They worked in silence for a few minutes as each of them processed what had just happened. They had already shared their first mission at APO and the night that had followed. It was inevitable she reasoned, but it was not the same. She had needed to be with him, but it was not like being with him. He was a stranger in so many ways now. Physically, everything was the same, but then lying there with him afterwards, she had felt uncomfortable. He asked her a personal but simple question. It was a question she never would have hesitated to answer before her disappearance, and was saddened to notice that she did not feel safe telling him the answer. He had felt it too, she knew. He did not stay. She came back to him dressing and they had parted awkwardly with "I'll see you in the morning." Since then there had been an unspoken moratorium on physical contact. There was a lot to work on, and she had told him so. He had agreed telling her that he would call her. This morning's breakfast was the result. But now there were some questions as to what was happening.

"So, I think I need some help here," he requested. She viewed his progress with the bananas and was surprised to find him finished.

"I think you got it. We shouldn't use more than three." He turned to address her again.

"No. Not the banana thing. This thing with us. Could you translate everything that just happened into male?"

"What?"

"I don't speak girl languages."

"You speak French."

"Very funny. I'm serious, Sydney. I don't want to screw this up, and it's bound to happen unless you tell me what's going on. Can you tell me what is, and what isn't allowed?"

"You mean the kiss thing?"

"What else?" becoming exasperated. She put down her spoon and turned to face him slowly.

"I don't really have a list. It just... it felt right, ya know?"

"I know. But does that mean that it is an acceptable gesture of affection from now on, or is this just an isolated occurrence?" he asked. "Because God knows I want to, but I don't want to make anything worse than it already is."

"Obviously we're in a delicate situation right now. I think we both know that." She placed a hand over his on the counter. His face was strained, trying to anticipate her words. "And I think we both know that we need to have some limits, at least for now." His eyes fell. "But I don't think it's very realistic for us to expect to spend time together and not bump into each other now and then. Sometimes intentionally." He looked up again, a smile beginning at the corners of his mouth. "I mean, I am your girlfriend, right? So, it'd be weird if we never touched at all. Or was that conversation a dream?"

"No, it wasn't."

"It wasn't, therefore, I am inclined to believe that kissing would be an 'acceptable gesture of affection' from now on," she finished mocking his formal verbiage earlier.

"Shut up."

"Make me," she replied, and was silenced by his lips on hers. No longer hurried, but warming, taking her back years to their ritual kisses after they got home from the office. They had been very careful about public affection given the problems their feelings had caused both of them early on. It was something that had been ingrained in their minds that you just do not do at the office. They were professional. And it did not escape her notice that he had no problems with kissing Lauren at the office, but she pushed this thought from her mind. This ritual kiss was not sexual, though depending on both of their moods, it could easily become so, and often had. More than anything, it was reassuring. A reminder that no matter how long it had been since the last kiss, that both of them had been thinking about it during the enforced separation. And she had been. Her arms had instinctively wrapped around his shoulders, and his were planted habitually on her hips. It felt good to slip into an old habit with him. All too soon, they separated and smilingly turned back to their breakfast tasks.

"Are there any other acceptable gestures I should know about?" he asked. She laughed out loud, and only continued to smile when she saw him looking happy again.

"Why don't we just treat this like we just started dating?"

"Do you remember when we just started dating?" She blushed, remembering just how quickly things had moved then.

"Yes, but we were... we had feelings a long time before then. At least I did. It was more a formality than an actual beginning."

"So when was the real beginning?"

"I don't know. When was the beginning for you?"

"Probably Taipai."

"Taipai?"

"At least that's the point in time that I knew it would be wrong for me to be with anyone else."

"But you were with Alice."

"Yeah, and I knew it was wrong. I've never been good at breaking up with women. They cry too much."

"Have you considered men?"

"No. But I have considered finding a woman I'll never break up with." He looked pointedly at her, and her gaze was forced down again.

"So Taipai? Let's see, we went on one date, which by the way, did not end with a goodnight kiss. So where does that leave us?"

"You're the one making the rules. You tell me?"

"Why don't we make the rules?"

"I don't think you want me to do that."

"I do. I trust you. You know what's at stake, and I believe that you will do what's necessary to protect us."

"You know I will."

"Okay, so one thing I just have to say. The next time we're 'together,' we should both be involved in the decision. Neither of us should be naked, or escaping from a near death experience."

"Syd, that's like never, in our lives."

"You know what I mean. No adrenaline decisions."

"So you think it was a mistake?" he asked quietly.

"What is a mistake, really? I think it was inevitable. I think it was a result of a really scary operation. I think it may have been premature. And I think it was incredible." She smiled in spite of herself. And glanced over to see him smiling as well.

"So not a mistake. Just a mixture of positive and negative feelings."

"I'd say probably positive and confused feelings."

"Okay, so no sex without rationally clothed decisions. What else?"

"I think probably, nothing that will make us want to break that rule."

"But otherwise unrestricted?"

"I'd say so. Just don't do anything that's going to make your life too difficult." she smiled. "So, you're kind of leaning on my stove, and if you want breakfast, you'll have to move." He moved away and watched from the kitchen island as she intently poured batter into the giant skillet and carefully placed the banana slices into each one.

"So, you really enjoy this? Cooking, I mean?"

"Yeah." she smiled. "It's like going to the grocery store. It's normal. It makes me feel normal. Like being with you."

"Syd, you are a lot of things, but you are not, nor will you ever be normal."

"You had better be nice to me, or I'm going to eat all of these things right here in front of you. And let me tell you mister," She stared him down with a spatula pointed at his head, "I will not share."

"I'll be nice later."

"Promise?"

"Mm-hmm. So when do I get to do the dishes?"

"We don't have dishes yet. We just started."

"What a drag."

"I know, but anticipation can be exciting."

"No kidding?"

"I'm serious. Like right now, on the outside, I'm making pancakes, but on the inside, I'm thinking about bringing you back here after work."

"Really? Were you going to invite me at any point, or are you just assuming I'm at your beck and call? 'cause I might have plans."

"Do you?"

"No. But I might have. Or might have made them before you asked."

"Well, the plan was to ask you right now, so I really doubt it. Weiss doesn't get up this early. So, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"

"I would like that. Then what?"

"I don't know. Acceptable gestures of affection?" she was laughing again, and he was mildly annoyed.

"That's it. I'm outta here," he headed toward the door smiling and she followed him out, laughing.

"Don't go. I'm sorry. Please stay. I hate these pancakes." He turned around, surprised by her last statement.

"Then why are you making them?"

"You like them."

"You hate them? Like, you really hate them? Syd, we used to eat these once a week."

"I know."

"And you never told me you didn't like them."

"But you did, and I wanted you to be happy."

"Syd, I don't know how to tell you this. They're terrible."

"What?"

"Can't stand 'em. They're awful. But you were having such a bad day, and I didn't want to make it worse." She looked up at him, stunned, and slowly they both began laughing. She stepped into him with a hug, and he reciprocated.

"You know something? You're really great," she said, and kissed him on the cheek.

"So, what about breakfast?"

"I think we should eat them anyway."

"Even though we both hate them?"

"Yep. It's our penance for not being honest."

"Masochist." She blushed a little at that.

"It's irrelevant. We're eating the damn pancakes."

"Okay. Let's make it quick." They were finally sitting down to eat the aforementioned pancakes of doom.

"So, why were you late?" she asked.

"It's—no reason."

"You do realize that we're eating these godawful pancakes because we both lied to each other? So tell me why you were late." He smiled, then his face fell. She was instantly sorry, but was unsure why.

"It was Lauren."

"What? Lauren?"

"She was ridiculous about punctuality. It pissed her off when people were late so I sort of, after you came back, I started being late all the time. It's juvenile, I know, but it stuck with me." She looked at him and smiled sadly.

"Well, sucks for her, but from my perspective, it's kinda sweet."

"Come on, you know it's stupid and childish."

"Well, it's over now. So if you want to be on time, it's okay. You don't have to; just in case you wanted to."

"Wow."

"What?"

"There are just no words for how terrible these are."

"I know, right? I could never understand why you liked them so much."

"Can we have chocolate chips next time?"

"God yes! I thought you'd never ask."

"So, when's next time?"

"Well, next time is tonight, but next breakfast, I don't know."

"So we can have them tonight."

"What? I'm not eating pancakes for dinner."

"Why not?"

"Because it is a breakfast food. And with chocolate chips, it's a dessert food. Neither one of those is the same as a dinner food."

"It's just food. Flexibility is your life. Try it."

"It's not just food. Every meal is an opportunity for a culinary experience."

"Or survival."

"I love how you're such a man sometimes."

"Sometimes? Should I be offended?"

"What do you think?"

"I think I cannot eat another bite. I can't believe you ate these every week just for me."

"So did you."

"Yeah, but you are really cute."

"So are you."

"So since I'm 'really cute', if I asked a favor of you, do you think it would do any good?" He took on a serious tone.

"Maybe. What is it?" She mirrored his concern.

"I know this is asking a lot. Especially considering how things are right now." He reached over and took her hand in his. He attentively stroked the length of each of her fingers before looking up to continue. "Syd, you don't have to say yes, but..." he stroked her left ring finger again, and she could feel his hand shaking. She took note of the specific finger he was attending to, and sheer internal panic overtook her. She was not ready for what he was about to say; surely he knew that. "Syd, do you have any cereal?" She pulled her hand out of his and attempted to restrain her blush. She looked at him to see the ridiculous grin on his face. He had her, and he knew it.

"God, you're an ass."

"I am not, you're just gullible. I can't believe you bought that. It was like a scene straight out of one of those sappy movies you used to make me watch. In fact I think it was one of those scenes. Was it Robert Redford? I can't remember."

"Toasty Oats or kid cereal?"

"Please? You know this one."

"The more marshmallows the better."

"Thanks." She set the box and bowl down in front of him hard and grabbed both of their plates. She turned her back and began quickly cleaning up breakfast. He poured his cereal and looked up to notice she was filling the sink with water.

"Syd?" She ignored him. "Sydney?" Clearly, she was not amused. He got up and moved to stand next to her at the sink. "Can I help?"

"No," she answered brusquely.

"I'm sorry. I guess I am an ass."

"Damn straight." The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her again. But he had. He leaned against the counter to watch her furiously washing dishes.

"Do you want me to go?" he asked quietly.

"I don't want you to go," she said turning to face him as she started to cry, "I just want it to be exactly like it was before when we were together, and it's not. It's just not, and I don't think it ever will be. Will it? I mean, it only makes sense that if you're a different person and I'm a different person, that we will be different people together, but that doesn't mean I have to like it." They were both silent as her words rang over and over again.

"Are you sure you don't want me to go? Because from what you just said, it sounds like you're not too happy when I'm around."

"Don't go," she answered definitively as she wiped away a few tears, and pulled herself from her uncontrolled state. "Please, don't go."

"But Sydney," he swallowed hard, nearly unable to finish, "If us being together and spending time together is making you unhappy, then I don't want it. I've seen you unhappy long enough. I won't be the cause of that anymore."

"You're not. God, you're not, Vaughn. Could you," she started crying again. Reaching out her hand, he took his cue and pulled her close. There they stood for a long time, holding one another. He wallowed in the irony of the fact that he was comforting her when he was the one that had hurt her. It was bad enough when Lauren had been alive and was causing a rift between them. But now Lauren was gone, and he was the one making Sydney's life hell. Her head came up and she slipped out of his arms.

"It's not that I don't like you now, Vaughn, you have to believe that. I do. You're just different. And every time you do or say something that you wouldn't have done before, it reminds me of... of how much I've missed. How much I've missed that I can never get back. And then I think about those two years that I'll probably never even remember... It's just a lot sometimes."

"Sydney..."

"Please, don't give up on us."

"You know I won't." He drew her close again. He tried to understand her pain, but the only comparison he had was knowing that those three years without her were three years he could never get back either. Three years wasted.

"Promise me. Even if I tell you to go. Promise me." She wished fervently that a promise would make her believe it, but she knew it was a vain hope.

"I promise. Don't worry. I promise."

She lifted her head to kiss him, and was happy to find that it felt natural, not awkward. She kissed him again, and planted her hands on his chest, and noticed the wreck that her makeup and tears had made of his shirt. "Damn. You're a mess."

"You're not so perfect yourself," he responded wiping off her face.

"Yeah, but I live here. You'd better finish your cereal if you need to go back home and change."

"Thank you, no. I'm a little angry at the cereal right now."

"Now that's childish. I could make more pancakes."

"Cereal it is."