AN: This is my first Alias fic, so please be kind. I'd love to get feedback
though, both positive and negative.
Disclaimer: Does anyone really think any of us owns this stuff? Because if you do, I'm sure Haladki could arrange a meeting with Dr. Barnett for you.
Sometimes I wish my life was simple. Go to work, come home, have a wife and a family… all the things that people think of when they think of normal, everyday life.
But it's not. I work for the CIA, which automatically puts me out of the running in the "How Normal is Your Life?" game show. I spend my entire life telling people that I do something besides what I spend my entire life doing. When a normal person says "I work at a bank/doctor's office/whatever else, it's the truth. When I say it, it's a cover—a story to keep people from finding out what I really do.
And that's not all. It's like one of those infomercials—"But wait! There's more!! Not only do you get to lie to your friends about your job, we'll throw in the incredibly beautiful double agent at no extra cost!" Yes, being Sydney Bristow's handler adds to the pile of confusion I have to cut through to figure out who I really am. I can't see her as just another agent, just another part of my job. As much as I hate to admit it, Haladki was right when he accused me of having an emotional attachment to her. My feelings for Sydney are by far the most complicated part of my life.
However, I seem to be the only one who does not believe that my "emotional attachment" is a bad thing. In my way of looking at things, it is the one thing that keeps her alive. It gave me the adrenaline rush that got my Devlin's signature in time for Hassan, it forced me to action when SD-6 had been taken over and everyone else was sitting on their hands waiting for "confirmation" whatever that's supposed to mean. I work harder to make sure that she comes home alive because it is important to me that I see her face one more time.
And I know that she needs to have someone in her life that she can trust. That's what she told me before we went to Rome last week… "I need a partner for this op, someone who I can trust." I looked in her eyes after I'd run down the list of problems we'd have to overcome, and I saw fear—fear that I would turn her down and leave her to do this alone. At that moment I realized she wasn't just referring to this mission, she was referring to her life. When she asked me if I'd go with her, I couldn't hold back the grin. "Yeah, I'll help you break into the Vatican," I told her, letting my expression convey the unspoken words of reassurance. Her answering smile of relief told me that the message had been received and understood.
I suppose it might have been this moment of understanding that gave me the nerve to ask her out while we were breaking into the Vatican. I wanted to be able to share just one evening with her, as Sydney and Michael, not agent and handler. But her reminder that just an innocent dinner could get us killed brought me back to reality. I replied flippantly, telling her it would almost be worth it just for the food, but she knew that the subject had been dropped.
And yet when we met back at the warehouse after our safe return on separate flights, I couldn't help but bring it up again. "Next time we're in Rome…" I told her, holding her gaze so she'd know I was serious. I had to let her know that I was looking forward to there being a next time—a time when we would just be tourists, free to do whatever we want.
This was what made it so much harder for me when the DSR picked her up. Even though I reassured her that I didn't believe she was dangerous and that I would do everything I could to get her out, I could still see the pain and the fear shining in her eyes. After a moment, I couldn't handle it. I had to look away.
My life is anything but simple. I'm in love with my agent and she is currently in the custody of the federal government on the say of a 500 year old prophecy which was pretty ambiguous, as prophecies are notorious for being. Why does life have to be so complicated?
Disclaimer: Does anyone really think any of us owns this stuff? Because if you do, I'm sure Haladki could arrange a meeting with Dr. Barnett for you.
Sometimes I wish my life was simple. Go to work, come home, have a wife and a family… all the things that people think of when they think of normal, everyday life.
But it's not. I work for the CIA, which automatically puts me out of the running in the "How Normal is Your Life?" game show. I spend my entire life telling people that I do something besides what I spend my entire life doing. When a normal person says "I work at a bank/doctor's office/whatever else, it's the truth. When I say it, it's a cover—a story to keep people from finding out what I really do.
And that's not all. It's like one of those infomercials—"But wait! There's more!! Not only do you get to lie to your friends about your job, we'll throw in the incredibly beautiful double agent at no extra cost!" Yes, being Sydney Bristow's handler adds to the pile of confusion I have to cut through to figure out who I really am. I can't see her as just another agent, just another part of my job. As much as I hate to admit it, Haladki was right when he accused me of having an emotional attachment to her. My feelings for Sydney are by far the most complicated part of my life.
However, I seem to be the only one who does not believe that my "emotional attachment" is a bad thing. In my way of looking at things, it is the one thing that keeps her alive. It gave me the adrenaline rush that got my Devlin's signature in time for Hassan, it forced me to action when SD-6 had been taken over and everyone else was sitting on their hands waiting for "confirmation" whatever that's supposed to mean. I work harder to make sure that she comes home alive because it is important to me that I see her face one more time.
And I know that she needs to have someone in her life that she can trust. That's what she told me before we went to Rome last week… "I need a partner for this op, someone who I can trust." I looked in her eyes after I'd run down the list of problems we'd have to overcome, and I saw fear—fear that I would turn her down and leave her to do this alone. At that moment I realized she wasn't just referring to this mission, she was referring to her life. When she asked me if I'd go with her, I couldn't hold back the grin. "Yeah, I'll help you break into the Vatican," I told her, letting my expression convey the unspoken words of reassurance. Her answering smile of relief told me that the message had been received and understood.
I suppose it might have been this moment of understanding that gave me the nerve to ask her out while we were breaking into the Vatican. I wanted to be able to share just one evening with her, as Sydney and Michael, not agent and handler. But her reminder that just an innocent dinner could get us killed brought me back to reality. I replied flippantly, telling her it would almost be worth it just for the food, but she knew that the subject had been dropped.
And yet when we met back at the warehouse after our safe return on separate flights, I couldn't help but bring it up again. "Next time we're in Rome…" I told her, holding her gaze so she'd know I was serious. I had to let her know that I was looking forward to there being a next time—a time when we would just be tourists, free to do whatever we want.
This was what made it so much harder for me when the DSR picked her up. Even though I reassured her that I didn't believe she was dangerous and that I would do everything I could to get her out, I could still see the pain and the fear shining in her eyes. After a moment, I couldn't handle it. I had to look away.
My life is anything but simple. I'm in love with my agent and she is currently in the custody of the federal government on the say of a 500 year old prophecy which was pretty ambiguous, as prophecies are notorious for being. Why does life have to be so complicated?