Grocery Musings
I love grocery shopping. Strolling the aisles, picking out the best fruits and vegetables, deciding what brand of cling film to buy. It's so utterly domestic; the complete opposite of my life at the CIA. It's not often that I'm home long enough to have time for this domestic bliss, and today is a rare occasion.
When I announced I was making a trip to the grocery store, Will eagerly volunteered to accompany me, and I didn't refuse. Most of time, I like shopping by myself. It gives me time to relax, and gives me an anonymity that I relish. I don't have to lie. But I don't mind Will's company. In a completely platonic sense, of course.
We wander around the crowded aisles and stop in the produce section. Will is trying to decide between Hot House or Roma tomatoes and asks me my opinion. But all of a sudden, I'm speechless. Not because the tomatoes are so completely captivating, but because I spot something else that is.
I make some excuse about needing honeydew melon and casually walk over to Aisle Three, Will watching me quizzically as I leave.
I stand beside him, more closely then necessary, and pick up a melon, feeling it's weight in my hands. I can feel the suede of his coat against my bare forearm and it makes me shiver. He looks over at me nonchalantly and smiles one of those smiles that make my knees go weak, complete with dimples. I gently lean against the stand for support and return the grin.
"Do you know how to pick the best ones?" he asks.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I watch as Sydney turns to leave in disbelief. Did she just blow me off for a honeydew melon? But then I notice him. Tall, lean, and fair, with a tousled hairstyle and slight stubble that he miraculously pulls off, but that makes me look like I have no personal hygiene. He looks like he just stepped out of the latest J. Crew catalogue, from his flat front khakis, to his thick, charcoal, Shetland sweater and chocolate coloured suede coat. I can't believe Syd would fall for a pretty boy like that.
But there they were, standing a little too close, laughing as Mystery Guy helps Syd weigh the melons, their hands overlapping underneath the curve of the fruit. I can't help but feel jealous.
Now Mystery Guy has leaned over, completely violating Syd's personal space, to whisper something in her ear, but she doesn't seem to mind. I assume he said something perfectly witty and charming because Syd starts to giggle like a teeny-bopper and gives him a full fledged grin before blushing and looking down at her chosen melon. What? Is this Junior High? I thought it was a grocery store.
But then I realize that I'm the one that's here with Sydney, and I start to push my cart in their direction. This guy has spent a total of 4 minutes, 26 seconds with her (but who's counting?) and will probably never see her again. I appreciate the fact that I get to spend time with her whenever I want. I could ask her to dinner tonight and not be thought of as presumptuous. I've even kissed her. Twice. Ha!
But I know I'm just fooling myself. There is a reason I've only kissed her twice. Once, it was alcohol. But now I understand that she'll never feel for me what I will always feel for her. I don't accept it, but I understand it. And as much as I hate to admit it, whatever it is that was missing between Syd and I, seems to currently be taking place between Syd and the "handsome stranger."
No matter how much time I have been privileged enough to spend with Syd, this man has managed to capture her heart for longer than I ever have. And in the end, that's all that really matters.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I watch as a scruffy looking guy pushes his cart to rest beside Sydney's. She turns to acknowledge him with a small smile. I assume this is Will.
"Hey Syd," he says, as he walks up to stand beside her, possessively. "I'm done here. Why don't we check out the bakery?"
The bakery is on the other side of the store. Subtle.
"Sure," she replies slowly before turning back towards me. "Thanks for your help with the melon. I'm sure it will be delicious."
She grins at me flirtatiously and I can't help but briefly touch her arm as I mutter, "You're welcome."
I watch as she and Will push their carts in the direction of the bakery, talking and laughing, then stopping as they examined a kiosk of sale items being promoted.
I wonder if Will realizes how lucky he is. How blessed he is to have the freedom to roam around Bennett's Food Mart on a Saturday morning with her, without having to worry about bugs, or SD-6, or breaking protocol. Even during the brief moments we shared with the honeydew melons I felt like the luckiest guy on the planet. Every smile, every word, every touch was cherished. And for those 4 minutes and 26 seconds we didn't have to lie. We were just Sydney and Michael, grocery shopping on a Saturday morning.
I keep my eyes on them until they turned down Aisle Nine, and out of sight. And hope to God that someday, that will be me by her side, and I know she feels the same. I should probably consider myself lucky to even share that unspoken, but powerful love with Sydney Bristow, but I'm selfish. It's not enough.
I sadly accept that we might never be able to leisurely wander around the grocery store or spend and night out at a favourite restaurant, and I guess, in the end, that's all that really matters.
This is my first Alias fic. Please R&R!
I love grocery shopping. Strolling the aisles, picking out the best fruits and vegetables, deciding what brand of cling film to buy. It's so utterly domestic; the complete opposite of my life at the CIA. It's not often that I'm home long enough to have time for this domestic bliss, and today is a rare occasion.
When I announced I was making a trip to the grocery store, Will eagerly volunteered to accompany me, and I didn't refuse. Most of time, I like shopping by myself. It gives me time to relax, and gives me an anonymity that I relish. I don't have to lie. But I don't mind Will's company. In a completely platonic sense, of course.
We wander around the crowded aisles and stop in the produce section. Will is trying to decide between Hot House or Roma tomatoes and asks me my opinion. But all of a sudden, I'm speechless. Not because the tomatoes are so completely captivating, but because I spot something else that is.
I make some excuse about needing honeydew melon and casually walk over to Aisle Three, Will watching me quizzically as I leave.
I stand beside him, more closely then necessary, and pick up a melon, feeling it's weight in my hands. I can feel the suede of his coat against my bare forearm and it makes me shiver. He looks over at me nonchalantly and smiles one of those smiles that make my knees go weak, complete with dimples. I gently lean against the stand for support and return the grin.
"Do you know how to pick the best ones?" he asks.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I watch as Sydney turns to leave in disbelief. Did she just blow me off for a honeydew melon? But then I notice him. Tall, lean, and fair, with a tousled hairstyle and slight stubble that he miraculously pulls off, but that makes me look like I have no personal hygiene. He looks like he just stepped out of the latest J. Crew catalogue, from his flat front khakis, to his thick, charcoal, Shetland sweater and chocolate coloured suede coat. I can't believe Syd would fall for a pretty boy like that.
But there they were, standing a little too close, laughing as Mystery Guy helps Syd weigh the melons, their hands overlapping underneath the curve of the fruit. I can't help but feel jealous.
Now Mystery Guy has leaned over, completely violating Syd's personal space, to whisper something in her ear, but she doesn't seem to mind. I assume he said something perfectly witty and charming because Syd starts to giggle like a teeny-bopper and gives him a full fledged grin before blushing and looking down at her chosen melon. What? Is this Junior High? I thought it was a grocery store.
But then I realize that I'm the one that's here with Sydney, and I start to push my cart in their direction. This guy has spent a total of 4 minutes, 26 seconds with her (but who's counting?) and will probably never see her again. I appreciate the fact that I get to spend time with her whenever I want. I could ask her to dinner tonight and not be thought of as presumptuous. I've even kissed her. Twice. Ha!
But I know I'm just fooling myself. There is a reason I've only kissed her twice. Once, it was alcohol. But now I understand that she'll never feel for me what I will always feel for her. I don't accept it, but I understand it. And as much as I hate to admit it, whatever it is that was missing between Syd and I, seems to currently be taking place between Syd and the "handsome stranger."
No matter how much time I have been privileged enough to spend with Syd, this man has managed to capture her heart for longer than I ever have. And in the end, that's all that really matters.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I watch as a scruffy looking guy pushes his cart to rest beside Sydney's. She turns to acknowledge him with a small smile. I assume this is Will.
"Hey Syd," he says, as he walks up to stand beside her, possessively. "I'm done here. Why don't we check out the bakery?"
The bakery is on the other side of the store. Subtle.
"Sure," she replies slowly before turning back towards me. "Thanks for your help with the melon. I'm sure it will be delicious."
She grins at me flirtatiously and I can't help but briefly touch her arm as I mutter, "You're welcome."
I watch as she and Will push their carts in the direction of the bakery, talking and laughing, then stopping as they examined a kiosk of sale items being promoted.
I wonder if Will realizes how lucky he is. How blessed he is to have the freedom to roam around Bennett's Food Mart on a Saturday morning with her, without having to worry about bugs, or SD-6, or breaking protocol. Even during the brief moments we shared with the honeydew melons I felt like the luckiest guy on the planet. Every smile, every word, every touch was cherished. And for those 4 minutes and 26 seconds we didn't have to lie. We were just Sydney and Michael, grocery shopping on a Saturday morning.
I keep my eyes on them until they turned down Aisle Nine, and out of sight. And hope to God that someday, that will be me by her side, and I know she feels the same. I should probably consider myself lucky to even share that unspoken, but powerful love with Sydney Bristow, but I'm selfish. It's not enough.
I sadly accept that we might never be able to leisurely wander around the grocery store or spend and night out at a favourite restaurant, and I guess, in the end, that's all that really matters.
This is my first Alias fic. Please R&R!
