Title: We're Never Gonna Be Ok
Author: ReeCee
Feedback: If you'd like to give it, then I'd love to get it. lol No pressure.
E-mail: dangerous_angel@2die4.com
Distribution: Here! lol I'm not sure if my stuff is really up to par with everyone else's so I have no idea WHY you'd want to.. but if you do. Thanks! Just email me and tell me where.
Disclaimer: Do I really need to? (sigh) NOT MINE. Capiche? Besides, JJ Abrams is God to my Alias world.
A/N: Ooo! This chapter is READY BABY! lol Fun to write and I'm excited to post.
Umm, in regards to the last chapter.. I noticed a whole lot of mistakes, but I was too lazy to upload a revised version. Sorry! lol I hope I did a better job this time around!
And one last thing! I'm sitting pretty at 45 Reviews! Please make me a happy camper and get me to 100 before the end of this series! Lol Yeah, I know.. Wishful thinking. How about small goals?? Get me to 50! LMAO But seriously, thanks for all the reviews you've sent in so far! They were lovely and greatly appreciated! Hope you enjoy!
His mind was completely occupied as he unlocked his front door, Sara trailing closely behind him. He didn't say a word to her as he crossed his living room floor to his shelf, where all his movies were housed.
"Anything in particular he wants?" he asked offhandedly, trying to rope her in and trap her.
"Umm.. He said you'd know exactly what to give me."
//Slick. Nice lie.//
"Yeah, he probably wants his favorites then." He plucked his James Bond Collection off the top shelf and handed it to Sara. "A little inter-office irony," he added wryly.
She giggled good-naturedly and took the box from his hand. "Thanks a lot, Mike."
"No problem. But.. can I ask you one question before you go? How the hell did you get into Inter-Op and why were you standing outside my office?" She stood silent and open-mouthed.
"You're not a lawyer, are you Sara?" he asked, though it came out more of a statement than a question.
She shook her head defiantly and readied herself to protest, but Michael just held up his hand. "You better make sure what comes out of your mouth isn't a lie."
Her eyes widened, then she sighed and took a deep breath. "My name really is Sara Stevens. No, I'm not a lawyer. The reason I had clearance at Inter- Op is because I'm looking to take over your director's spot."
"George? George Blackwell?" he cried incredulously. "What the hell has he done wrong?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "Nothing really. I'm just gonna make things better."
Michael just laughed bitterly at her naïveté. "If it ain't broke, don't fix it," he muttered, turning away from her.
She ignored him. "I have clearance because they're looking into my file and reading up on my credentials. They're far enough along to have given me access to the File and Records room. That's why I know some of the things I know."
Michael shook his head in disbelief and disgust. "So you read classified files to get the goods on the Agency? On me? That's low Sara. What'd you do, beg Matt to set you up with me?"
"This place.. My God! Don't' you think that it could be more efficient? I mean, you guys are good and all, but take a look around, Mike! You guys are all so damn attached to each other that you call each other by first names! Whenever there's a death on a mission, you guys actually mourn when you should be pulling off some hell of a lot more important missions! It's your job, for Christ's sake! Do it!"
"Did you ever wonder why we were so good in the first place?" He fumed. "It's because we work well together! The fact that we're so close gives us an advantage! And of course we mourn when there's a death! We just lost a freakin' family member! We're not robots, Sara! We're fuckin' human!"
"You see that!" she yelled at him. "You're BENEATH me and you're disrespecting the hell out of me! When I'm new director -"
"If," but she continued on as if he hadn't interrupted her.
"This attitude WILL disappear."
"And how do you propose you do that, huh?"
"With attitude refinements. It's amazing what drugs can do these days."
Michael shook his head, laughing at her. "That's illegal, and you know it. You can't use drugs to superficially re-write someone's sub-routines! Especially within a U.S. government agency! As soon as word got around, you'd be booted out of here before you can say 'Michael knows best.' 'Cause I do, you know."
It was her turn to laugh (condescendingly). "Who'd believe you over me? You have no proof!"
Michael was silent for a while, a sinister smirk playing across his face.
"Sara, Sara, Sara," he finally spoke. "How do you think Inter-Op keeps tabs on their Agents when they're off duty? Magic?" He chucked. "Or maybe home video and audio surveillance?"
Sara's face drained of color.
"You have NO chance of taking over George's job. None. He's been good for us, and Inter-Op hasn't been this successful in years. They wouldn't close the book on him, no questions asked, just because you said he isn't good enough. That, coupled with the information that they now have because of your big mouth, is reason enough to never even CONSIDER having you replace George." He grinned maliciously. "Should you be saying 'Michael knows best' right about now?"
She backed up from him, shaking her head slowly, a smug yet tense look on her face. "You're good, Mike. And I don't doubt that you're good at other things as well." she implied, giving him a blatant once over. "We could have been good together, you and me. Are you sure you'd rather bang that Sydney kid?"
He raised his eyebrow.
//She's running scared now..//
Running his hands over his face and through his hair, he focused on her again. "I'm absolutely certain. You couldn't even measure up to half of the woman she is, let alone lover."
Her eyes threw daggers at him before she turned and stalked out of the room. He listened as she slammed his front door and drove off in her car, tires squealing.
He stood there, facing the window, replaying the events carefully, and shook his head disappointedly. He had prided himself in being observant, yet had underestimated Sara in a major way.
He was so lost in thought, he never even heard his front door re-open, and he certainly didn't sense the presence of a person standing behind him.
Sydney took in his disheveled appearance, and remembered the harried woman who had left his house in a whirlwind.
She cleared her throat, causing Michael to spin around to face her. She stood there, the epitome of a calm person, yet her eyes were fiery.
She leaned against the doorframe and began to whirl a key ring (Mike's spare key attached to it) around her index finger.
"Care to explain?" she asked lazily, but he could feel the edge in her voice cut into him.
He just sighed and closed his eyes.
//We're never gonna be ok.//
Author: ReeCee
Feedback: If you'd like to give it, then I'd love to get it. lol No pressure.
E-mail: dangerous_angel@2die4.com
Distribution: Here! lol I'm not sure if my stuff is really up to par with everyone else's so I have no idea WHY you'd want to.. but if you do. Thanks! Just email me and tell me where.
Disclaimer: Do I really need to? (sigh) NOT MINE. Capiche? Besides, JJ Abrams is God to my Alias world.
A/N: Ooo! This chapter is READY BABY! lol Fun to write and I'm excited to post.
Umm, in regards to the last chapter.. I noticed a whole lot of mistakes, but I was too lazy to upload a revised version. Sorry! lol I hope I did a better job this time around!
And one last thing! I'm sitting pretty at 45 Reviews! Please make me a happy camper and get me to 100 before the end of this series! Lol Yeah, I know.. Wishful thinking. How about small goals?? Get me to 50! LMAO But seriously, thanks for all the reviews you've sent in so far! They were lovely and greatly appreciated! Hope you enjoy!
His mind was completely occupied as he unlocked his front door, Sara trailing closely behind him. He didn't say a word to her as he crossed his living room floor to his shelf, where all his movies were housed.
"Anything in particular he wants?" he asked offhandedly, trying to rope her in and trap her.
"Umm.. He said you'd know exactly what to give me."
//Slick. Nice lie.//
"Yeah, he probably wants his favorites then." He plucked his James Bond Collection off the top shelf and handed it to Sara. "A little inter-office irony," he added wryly.
She giggled good-naturedly and took the box from his hand. "Thanks a lot, Mike."
"No problem. But.. can I ask you one question before you go? How the hell did you get into Inter-Op and why were you standing outside my office?" She stood silent and open-mouthed.
"You're not a lawyer, are you Sara?" he asked, though it came out more of a statement than a question.
She shook her head defiantly and readied herself to protest, but Michael just held up his hand. "You better make sure what comes out of your mouth isn't a lie."
Her eyes widened, then she sighed and took a deep breath. "My name really is Sara Stevens. No, I'm not a lawyer. The reason I had clearance at Inter- Op is because I'm looking to take over your director's spot."
"George? George Blackwell?" he cried incredulously. "What the hell has he done wrong?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "Nothing really. I'm just gonna make things better."
Michael just laughed bitterly at her naïveté. "If it ain't broke, don't fix it," he muttered, turning away from her.
She ignored him. "I have clearance because they're looking into my file and reading up on my credentials. They're far enough along to have given me access to the File and Records room. That's why I know some of the things I know."
Michael shook his head in disbelief and disgust. "So you read classified files to get the goods on the Agency? On me? That's low Sara. What'd you do, beg Matt to set you up with me?"
"This place.. My God! Don't' you think that it could be more efficient? I mean, you guys are good and all, but take a look around, Mike! You guys are all so damn attached to each other that you call each other by first names! Whenever there's a death on a mission, you guys actually mourn when you should be pulling off some hell of a lot more important missions! It's your job, for Christ's sake! Do it!"
"Did you ever wonder why we were so good in the first place?" He fumed. "It's because we work well together! The fact that we're so close gives us an advantage! And of course we mourn when there's a death! We just lost a freakin' family member! We're not robots, Sara! We're fuckin' human!"
"You see that!" she yelled at him. "You're BENEATH me and you're disrespecting the hell out of me! When I'm new director -"
"If," but she continued on as if he hadn't interrupted her.
"This attitude WILL disappear."
"And how do you propose you do that, huh?"
"With attitude refinements. It's amazing what drugs can do these days."
Michael shook his head, laughing at her. "That's illegal, and you know it. You can't use drugs to superficially re-write someone's sub-routines! Especially within a U.S. government agency! As soon as word got around, you'd be booted out of here before you can say 'Michael knows best.' 'Cause I do, you know."
It was her turn to laugh (condescendingly). "Who'd believe you over me? You have no proof!"
Michael was silent for a while, a sinister smirk playing across his face.
"Sara, Sara, Sara," he finally spoke. "How do you think Inter-Op keeps tabs on their Agents when they're off duty? Magic?" He chucked. "Or maybe home video and audio surveillance?"
Sara's face drained of color.
"You have NO chance of taking over George's job. None. He's been good for us, and Inter-Op hasn't been this successful in years. They wouldn't close the book on him, no questions asked, just because you said he isn't good enough. That, coupled with the information that they now have because of your big mouth, is reason enough to never even CONSIDER having you replace George." He grinned maliciously. "Should you be saying 'Michael knows best' right about now?"
She backed up from him, shaking her head slowly, a smug yet tense look on her face. "You're good, Mike. And I don't doubt that you're good at other things as well." she implied, giving him a blatant once over. "We could have been good together, you and me. Are you sure you'd rather bang that Sydney kid?"
He raised his eyebrow.
//She's running scared now..//
Running his hands over his face and through his hair, he focused on her again. "I'm absolutely certain. You couldn't even measure up to half of the woman she is, let alone lover."
Her eyes threw daggers at him before she turned and stalked out of the room. He listened as she slammed his front door and drove off in her car, tires squealing.
He stood there, facing the window, replaying the events carefully, and shook his head disappointedly. He had prided himself in being observant, yet had underestimated Sara in a major way.
He was so lost in thought, he never even heard his front door re-open, and he certainly didn't sense the presence of a person standing behind him.
Sydney took in his disheveled appearance, and remembered the harried woman who had left his house in a whirlwind.
She cleared her throat, causing Michael to spin around to face her. She stood there, the epitome of a calm person, yet her eyes were fiery.
She leaned against the doorframe and began to whirl a key ring (Mike's spare key attached to it) around her index finger.
"Care to explain?" she asked lazily, but he could feel the edge in her voice cut into him.
He just sighed and closed his eyes.
//We're never gonna be ok.//