Title: Wish List
Author: Donna donna__rose@hotmail.com
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: They're not mine, if you think they are you are obviously either insane or a very dumb lawyer.
Summary: Syd wishes, Vaughn delivers, a happy ending. I dunno, read it and then you can write my summary for me.
Notes: Well, I'm not notorious for finishing fics, but reviews will get me moving. I really like them whether they are mean or nice just as long as I know that someone is reading this. It will have a happy ending, I promise. Um, also I live in Australia so if I make mistakes or spell mom mum (which I won't on my end of year English exam I spelt mom mom and my teacher just thought it was great.) don't get made. Also I don't think I'll try to incorporate any of the real show's plot because it's too hard to keep up. Also anyone wanna e-mail me, just do it, I don't mind, I'd actually love for you to, makes me feel wanted. Donna__rose@hotmail.com Anyways, R and R please and enjoy. Well, I have another story going now, please go and read that one. And keep reviewing or I will stop writing.
Chapter three
A Little Less conversation...I wish
She was leaning against the table when he finally arrived. A car pile up on the freeway had caused him to be immobile for a good half hour and despite his best efforts, he hadn't been able to contact Syd on her cell phone. It had rung, but she hadn't answered.
Sydney looked up as he jogged in shaking his head before smiling in his own unique kind of goofy way. 'It was an apology and a thank you all in one,' Syd decided. She remained steely, wanting to get whatever it was he'd called her about over.
Vaughn lifted a hand in welcome, taking in the grey suit she was wearing, high necked white shirt underneath, the coat buttons all done up and her hair tied back in a bun. On a Sunday. He began, "I'm sorry I'm late, traffic jam, huge pile up on the free way. I tried to call you." He lifted an eyebrow in question. She shook her head, allowing a small fake smile to grace her lips. Vaughn frowned noticing the change in her behaviour from their normal openness. "Anyway, I wanted to talk to you."
"I figured since you called me at nine on my day off that you wanted something." She stood up straight and made to sit down on the chair. Vaughn's hand grazed her arm ever so slightly and Syd could do nothing to stop the sharp intake of air. She flinched away and sat down; pretending the electricity that Vaughn had felt hadn't touched her.
Suddenly embarrassed, he joined her in his seat, moving it forward until their knees were mere centimetres apart. "Syd, I didn't call you here for work," he watched as she crossed her legs and looked at him in confusion.
"What then? Is this pleasure or business." She was trying to put him off what ever it was that he wanted to discuss. It wasn't the time or the place to do anything rash and she was slightly scared of the possibilities. She smirked at him trying to scare him off, desperately wanting to leave.
His forehead creased into their normal lines and he looked up at her, obviously put out. "Sydney, what's the matter." He stood up, worried for some unknown reason. "You look pale."
"I'm fine," flat, like her father. Dull and indifferent, shut down.
He walked over to the cage door and shut it. "Sydney, what's going on? You're different, I need you to tell me, what were you doing here last night?" He sat down again, leaning forward, trying to look her in the eye without forcing her with human contact.
"You're not going to leave me alone until I tell you?" In her heart Sydney wanted to talk about it. So when he shook his head playfully smiling but the wrinkles still in place, she responded: "I was thinking."
"You came all the way out here to think," he wasn't stupid enough to tell her it was against the rules. "What about?" Straight direct, that's what she lov.liked about Vaughn.
"Normality. What it would be like to have all my friends able to meet and talk about everything. Even if it was about me bring a spy, just able to talk about it. I mean, there have been some funny moments." Sydney wanted to kick herself, why did she always find it so easy to forgive this man. She was hopeless at holding a grudge, and now look, she was opening up to him about things she'd promised she would never, ever discuss.
He nodded, sitting back, 'Thank God' because she was getting hot. "You wish you could talk?" he clarified.
"Yes."
"So it's not about being normal, it's about being able to talk." Vaughn was acting like Dr Barnett, analysing her and telling her exactly what he thought she thought. For some reason Sydney found this funny. She nodded and motioned for him to continue his assessment. "No, I'm serious Syd, You like the idea that you're doing good for your country. You like the rush, but you don't like the lies, the lack of truth in your everyday life."
Sydney couldn't stop her mouth from falling open and her eyes from darting down to the oil stain as she searched for an answer. "You know me so well."
"I like to think that I do," Vaughn was completely off track, this wasn't how their meeting was meant to go. But he liked it, at least she wasn't as closed as she had been when he'd first arrived. "I spend most of my time here with you."
"No you don't," she was quick to pull him up on his mistake, "We hardly spend any time together. And most of the time I'm either emotionally distressed or here about a mission."
"I still know you, don't I?" She nodded and so he pressed on, "I think about you. Over analyse you, everything." Then he went on to add, "It's my job to know you, so I take everything I have and work with it."
"Ahhh," silence as she waited. "You have a firmer grasp on what I want than I do. You would make a great shrink." He laughed
"A shrink? Perhaps, but you realise Dr Barnett has to put up with me, you, your dad hell, she would have had to put up with Haladki. That is not a job I particularly want, I'm perfectly happy here." He repositioned himself in his chair, cracking his neck as he moved it to the side. "How's your graze?"
She laughed, the mood lightening, "It's fine, it's really nothing. I had totally forgotten about it until you brought it up just then." 'Liar' she thought. Sydney hadn't forgotten about one of the most amazing experiences in her life. She scoffed slightly, eliciting a raised eyebrow and down-turned mouth form Vaughn. She Sydney Bristow, a woman who had been bombed, shot at with every known gun, attacked in most of the countries a normal person could name, worn tiny dresses while jumping off very tall buildings, broken into giant safes, been shot by her mother and met quite a few very interesting people along the way and she considered gaining a graze and then having it treated by her handler as one of the most amazing experiences in her life.
Vaughn coughed slightly and she snapped back from her thoughts. He smiled, clearly interested, "What were you thinking about then?"
Sydney squinted slightly and bit the inside of her lip, searching the room for a response that wouldn't be an all out lie. The walls, crates and small windows offered no help, "It doesn't matter?"
"Right, stay away from that one. Note to self, Sydney seems to be losing concentration, find out what she was thinking about." He looked up from where he had been playfully writing on his hand with that goofy grin back on his face. "I will eventually find out what you were thinking about. That's a promise."
"Ohhh," Sydney was playful, Vaughn hadn't seen her like this very often and he was savouring the moment. But he was desperate to find out what she had been thinking about, "I doubt I'll ever tell you, and there is no other way to find out."
"Lie detector test?" He wasn't making a suggestion; he wanted to see her reaction. "Remember those?" Obviously she did. Her mouth quirked up as her eyes once again fazed out. Suddenly she came to and hit him playfully, "You're doing that on purpose." He shrugged as her hand rose from the bare skin of his lower arm. She was eyeing him over, carefully and out of the corner of her eye, but she was defiantly slowly becoming aware as to what he was wearing.
Jeans, tight ones, too tight, it should have been considered a crime. Sydney stopped at her thoughts before realising that he wouldn't be able to hear her anyway. A shirt. I've never seen him in a shirt. Never seen his arms except for in France. His shirt was green, deep, deep green, like the colour that reflects off rocks in a deep rock pool, like his eyes. "You're not wearing a suit."
"No, it's Sunday." It was a question, he was asking her about her choice of clothing.
"This was supposed to be a formal meeting." Her words were strong and the only reason Vaughn had for knowing that she was kidding was the slight glint in her eyes.
He grinned, "Sorry." They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, looking around the room and stealing glances at each other every few seconds. Eventually Vaughn spoke again, "Well, I'd better be going."
Sydney shut her eyes as she thought for a moment and when she opened them again he was up and moving for the door. "Hang on, I thought you called this meeting."
"I did." His eyes dropped.
"You didn't have a reason?" she stood up and walked over to stand between him and the only means of escape.
"Well, I wanted to talk to you, to tell you something." Vaughn shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. They became even tighter as his hands stole the loose material.
"What?" Sydney tried to coax him out, changing her voice to suit the aim of the conversation. "What Vaughn?"
"Nothing, I...I changed my mind. It's not important." He moved to walk out. But she blocked him getting so close that he had to either move back into the room, stop breathing or feel the length of her body against his. He moved back and leaned against the wire fence. He stared at her and his forehead creased.
Author: Donna donna__rose@hotmail.com
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: They're not mine, if you think they are you are obviously either insane or a very dumb lawyer.
Summary: Syd wishes, Vaughn delivers, a happy ending. I dunno, read it and then you can write my summary for me.
Notes: Well, I'm not notorious for finishing fics, but reviews will get me moving. I really like them whether they are mean or nice just as long as I know that someone is reading this. It will have a happy ending, I promise. Um, also I live in Australia so if I make mistakes or spell mom mum (which I won't on my end of year English exam I spelt mom mom and my teacher just thought it was great.) don't get made. Also I don't think I'll try to incorporate any of the real show's plot because it's too hard to keep up. Also anyone wanna e-mail me, just do it, I don't mind, I'd actually love for you to, makes me feel wanted. Donna__rose@hotmail.com Anyways, R and R please and enjoy. Well, I have another story going now, please go and read that one. And keep reviewing or I will stop writing.
Chapter three
A Little Less conversation...I wish
She was leaning against the table when he finally arrived. A car pile up on the freeway had caused him to be immobile for a good half hour and despite his best efforts, he hadn't been able to contact Syd on her cell phone. It had rung, but she hadn't answered.
Sydney looked up as he jogged in shaking his head before smiling in his own unique kind of goofy way. 'It was an apology and a thank you all in one,' Syd decided. She remained steely, wanting to get whatever it was he'd called her about over.
Vaughn lifted a hand in welcome, taking in the grey suit she was wearing, high necked white shirt underneath, the coat buttons all done up and her hair tied back in a bun. On a Sunday. He began, "I'm sorry I'm late, traffic jam, huge pile up on the free way. I tried to call you." He lifted an eyebrow in question. She shook her head, allowing a small fake smile to grace her lips. Vaughn frowned noticing the change in her behaviour from their normal openness. "Anyway, I wanted to talk to you."
"I figured since you called me at nine on my day off that you wanted something." She stood up straight and made to sit down on the chair. Vaughn's hand grazed her arm ever so slightly and Syd could do nothing to stop the sharp intake of air. She flinched away and sat down; pretending the electricity that Vaughn had felt hadn't touched her.
Suddenly embarrassed, he joined her in his seat, moving it forward until their knees were mere centimetres apart. "Syd, I didn't call you here for work," he watched as she crossed her legs and looked at him in confusion.
"What then? Is this pleasure or business." She was trying to put him off what ever it was that he wanted to discuss. It wasn't the time or the place to do anything rash and she was slightly scared of the possibilities. She smirked at him trying to scare him off, desperately wanting to leave.
His forehead creased into their normal lines and he looked up at her, obviously put out. "Sydney, what's the matter." He stood up, worried for some unknown reason. "You look pale."
"I'm fine," flat, like her father. Dull and indifferent, shut down.
He walked over to the cage door and shut it. "Sydney, what's going on? You're different, I need you to tell me, what were you doing here last night?" He sat down again, leaning forward, trying to look her in the eye without forcing her with human contact.
"You're not going to leave me alone until I tell you?" In her heart Sydney wanted to talk about it. So when he shook his head playfully smiling but the wrinkles still in place, she responded: "I was thinking."
"You came all the way out here to think," he wasn't stupid enough to tell her it was against the rules. "What about?" Straight direct, that's what she lov.liked about Vaughn.
"Normality. What it would be like to have all my friends able to meet and talk about everything. Even if it was about me bring a spy, just able to talk about it. I mean, there have been some funny moments." Sydney wanted to kick herself, why did she always find it so easy to forgive this man. She was hopeless at holding a grudge, and now look, she was opening up to him about things she'd promised she would never, ever discuss.
He nodded, sitting back, 'Thank God' because she was getting hot. "You wish you could talk?" he clarified.
"Yes."
"So it's not about being normal, it's about being able to talk." Vaughn was acting like Dr Barnett, analysing her and telling her exactly what he thought she thought. For some reason Sydney found this funny. She nodded and motioned for him to continue his assessment. "No, I'm serious Syd, You like the idea that you're doing good for your country. You like the rush, but you don't like the lies, the lack of truth in your everyday life."
Sydney couldn't stop her mouth from falling open and her eyes from darting down to the oil stain as she searched for an answer. "You know me so well."
"I like to think that I do," Vaughn was completely off track, this wasn't how their meeting was meant to go. But he liked it, at least she wasn't as closed as she had been when he'd first arrived. "I spend most of my time here with you."
"No you don't," she was quick to pull him up on his mistake, "We hardly spend any time together. And most of the time I'm either emotionally distressed or here about a mission."
"I still know you, don't I?" She nodded and so he pressed on, "I think about you. Over analyse you, everything." Then he went on to add, "It's my job to know you, so I take everything I have and work with it."
"Ahhh," silence as she waited. "You have a firmer grasp on what I want than I do. You would make a great shrink." He laughed
"A shrink? Perhaps, but you realise Dr Barnett has to put up with me, you, your dad hell, she would have had to put up with Haladki. That is not a job I particularly want, I'm perfectly happy here." He repositioned himself in his chair, cracking his neck as he moved it to the side. "How's your graze?"
She laughed, the mood lightening, "It's fine, it's really nothing. I had totally forgotten about it until you brought it up just then." 'Liar' she thought. Sydney hadn't forgotten about one of the most amazing experiences in her life. She scoffed slightly, eliciting a raised eyebrow and down-turned mouth form Vaughn. She Sydney Bristow, a woman who had been bombed, shot at with every known gun, attacked in most of the countries a normal person could name, worn tiny dresses while jumping off very tall buildings, broken into giant safes, been shot by her mother and met quite a few very interesting people along the way and she considered gaining a graze and then having it treated by her handler as one of the most amazing experiences in her life.
Vaughn coughed slightly and she snapped back from her thoughts. He smiled, clearly interested, "What were you thinking about then?"
Sydney squinted slightly and bit the inside of her lip, searching the room for a response that wouldn't be an all out lie. The walls, crates and small windows offered no help, "It doesn't matter?"
"Right, stay away from that one. Note to self, Sydney seems to be losing concentration, find out what she was thinking about." He looked up from where he had been playfully writing on his hand with that goofy grin back on his face. "I will eventually find out what you were thinking about. That's a promise."
"Ohhh," Sydney was playful, Vaughn hadn't seen her like this very often and he was savouring the moment. But he was desperate to find out what she had been thinking about, "I doubt I'll ever tell you, and there is no other way to find out."
"Lie detector test?" He wasn't making a suggestion; he wanted to see her reaction. "Remember those?" Obviously she did. Her mouth quirked up as her eyes once again fazed out. Suddenly she came to and hit him playfully, "You're doing that on purpose." He shrugged as her hand rose from the bare skin of his lower arm. She was eyeing him over, carefully and out of the corner of her eye, but she was defiantly slowly becoming aware as to what he was wearing.
Jeans, tight ones, too tight, it should have been considered a crime. Sydney stopped at her thoughts before realising that he wouldn't be able to hear her anyway. A shirt. I've never seen him in a shirt. Never seen his arms except for in France. His shirt was green, deep, deep green, like the colour that reflects off rocks in a deep rock pool, like his eyes. "You're not wearing a suit."
"No, it's Sunday." It was a question, he was asking her about her choice of clothing.
"This was supposed to be a formal meeting." Her words were strong and the only reason Vaughn had for knowing that she was kidding was the slight glint in her eyes.
He grinned, "Sorry." They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, looking around the room and stealing glances at each other every few seconds. Eventually Vaughn spoke again, "Well, I'd better be going."
Sydney shut her eyes as she thought for a moment and when she opened them again he was up and moving for the door. "Hang on, I thought you called this meeting."
"I did." His eyes dropped.
"You didn't have a reason?" she stood up and walked over to stand between him and the only means of escape.
"Well, I wanted to talk to you, to tell you something." Vaughn shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. They became even tighter as his hands stole the loose material.
"What?" Sydney tried to coax him out, changing her voice to suit the aim of the conversation. "What Vaughn?"
"Nothing, I...I changed my mind. It's not important." He moved to walk out. But she blocked him getting so close that he had to either move back into the room, stop breathing or feel the length of her body against his. He moved back and leaned against the wire fence. He stared at her and his forehead creased.