Author's Note: Here's part three of "The Morning's Story"...enjoy.

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. They belong to the geniuses at ABC. Just writing for fun.

Archive: Yep, just let know, 'kay?

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Jealous Accusations
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Damn French breakfast food.

Completely horrified: the only words that can accurately describe his feelings at this moment.

"Oh Jesus," he mumbles, rubbing his mouth harshly, like a Brillo pad on a greasy pan. Take that, you stupid croissant, he thinks angrily. The thought of punching himself in the face flashes through his mind suggestively (and quite crazily). Sure, it would hurt like hell, but it couldn't begin to compare to the turmoil that is bubbling inside his mind right now. Plus, it would probably take his mind off the nausea.

He stands suddenly, throwing his hands up in defeat. "Okay, this is stupid." Once those words are out of his mouth, he doesn't know what else to say. He
doesn't even have the vaguest idea what he's calling 'stupid' -- the croissant, the situation, himself. So he just stands there, his hand rubbing
his forehead. As if that action would rub out all thoughts and feelings for Sydney.

"Will, we need to talk," she reaches up and grabs his arm, pulling him back down on the couch. He's never noticed how strong she is. He wonders how much
she could bench press.

Resistance is futile. Take it like a man, Will Tippin, and you might just (maybe) have some pride left when you walk out of this apartment today.

"About what you just said a few minutes ago...." she starts, concentrating on her hands. Will has always thought her hands, with their slim, agile
fingers, would've given even Michaelangelo pause. His eyes narrow as he notices dark bruises covering her fingers. How the hell...?

"I shouldn't have said anything, Syd," Will blurts out, his voice painfully strained with emotion. "Let's just forget about this, OK?"

She looks up from her hands and their eyes meet. And he knows. His questions about her true feelings have all been answered.

His heart breaks.

He pictures himself jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge, headfirst, arms stuck fast to his sides. He pictures the first time he's introduced to Syd's mystery man. He pictures himself hurling punch after punch at his smirking, but nondescript face. His fists clench.

Then he takes a deep breath and the words come gushing out.

"I know, I know...I'm a jackass. You'd think after getting shot down twice before, I'd get the picture," he smiles ruefully. "But sometimes I can be
surprisingly dense, I guess."

"Will, you know that's not true," she says softly. He can tell she's trying to select her next words very carefully. She wrings her hands (he can't help but stare at those bluish-purple bruises) and bites her lip for a second. "I do love you, really, just -"

"Don't even say it," he interrupts, his forehead wrinkled in hurt. Just not in that wayjust as a friend.just like a brotherit turns his stomach to even think of how she was going to end that sentence.

Tears form in her eyes and now he's mentally kicking himself for putting her in this position. Damnit. Why is he always fucking things up between the two of them?

He should leave. It would be easier for him, perhaps even for her if he did so. But there is still one issue unresolved. And damn him, he can't let it go.

"So who is he?" Shit. You had to go and say it. You can't just let it go, you've got to get all worked up and jealous about it.

Shock registers on Sydney's face, her perfectly arched brows rising. "What are you talking about?"

Will sighs heavily. This is going to be difficult. "Please be honest with me. I know you, Syd, I can see the look on your face. For the past few weeks, you've been beamingexactly like you were when you first met Danny."

Her face falls at the mention of her deceased fiancé. "Seriously, Will, I'm not dating anyoneyou know that."

"I didn't ask if you were dating someone," he shot back immediately. "You are in love with someonewith some guy you've been hiding from Franciefrom all of your friends." Some guy you've been hiding from me, he wants to shout. "I just want to know who it is."

"You sound a little paranoid," she replies, her voice calm but cool. Her brown eyes lose their warmth as she proceeds to stares him down.

God help him, he's actually a bit scared of her.

"No, I just hate the feeling that my best friend is hiding something from me," he says. He reaches for her hands. She winces.

"What happened to your hands? He didn't do that to you, did he?" Shut up, Will, just let it be! Stop digging away at this! He can't; he is lusting after the truth, which means getting to the bottom of this puzzle.

"I hurt them when I was running," she says, stubbornly holding his gaze. "I tripped, fell and my hands luckily broke my fall."

He doesn't believe her. He knows he should just nod and apologize and let this whole embarrassing nightmare end already. "I don't believe you," he says instead. "Tell me what really happened, Sydney.please," he adds in an effort to placate her.

"Fine, do you want to know the complete truth?" she responds, pulling her hands out of his grasp. She stands, towering above him now.

He nods, his lips parted in anticipation. Finallythe whole story.

"The truth is that you're trying to interrogate me here, trying to pry information out of me like I'm one of your sources. I don't like that. I told you the truth, but you elect to doubt me. And if I did have some mystery man, like you insist, then maybe it's none of your business, Will. And I care for you.you're one of my best friends, but I will not let you badger me."

He is defeated. She is so right, he finally realizes. He hangs his head in shame. Who did he think he was to demand Sydney divulge such personal information, then not believe her when she does?

"God, I don't know what to say except I'm so sorry," he begins, standing. Her hard expression dissolves into a warm smile and she puts her arms around him. He squeezes. She squeezes back. "Let's just forget this ever happened."

"It's okay," she whispers in his ear. "Just don't do this again or I'll kick your ass."

This time he believes her. And the embarrassment is back...flashbacks of his foolish admittance of love, his jealous accusations. He thinks he totally sucks as a friend...and as a journalist. He cannot wait to leave.

"I'm gonna' get goin', Syd," he says after she breaks off the hug. "Sorry for -"

"It's already forgotten, 'kay?" she insists, kissing him on the cheek. His fractured heart flutters one last time and he leaves, carefully shutting the door quietly behind him. He remembers it's not her front door that squeaks. Just an hour and a half ago, your relationship with Sydney was still strong. You had not attacked her, you had been nothing but a supportive friend. Now, at 8:35 a.m., your friendship has been battered and you don't know if it'll ever be the same.

Another fine mess you've made, Will Tippin, he thinks as he starts toward his SUV. His feet are dragging, his eyes are sore and he suddenly wants to get the rest of his coffee that's sitting on Sydney's kitchen table.

He dashes up the stairs and opens the door quietly.

He hears her talking to someone. "I'm sorry to bother youno, really, I feel bad about calling you like this.no, I'm okaydo you have time to talk sometime today?"

Will peers around the partially ajar door and sees her standing in the kitchen, her back to him, her hand on her slim hip. He can hear her smile. "Yeah, I can be there in twenty minutes.yeah. Okay. That's fine." A pause, during which Will debates whether or not to say something. "Hey, Vaughn? Thanks."

Will's jaw clenches. He is careful, yet again, to close the door silently behind him.


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Note: I'm thinking of continuing this story, but from Sydney's POV...rife with S/V shippiness....but I haven't decided. What do you think? Let me know!