Disclaimer: I do not own Alias…or an umbrella…or much of anything! Don't sue! I'll have nothing to give you! But reviews are always nice…I wonder if you can sue for reviews…
*~*
What If?
You know, they say that you can discover more about a person in an hour of play than in a year of conversation. But what if you never get to play?
Syd and I never get to play. Agent Bristow and Agent Vaughn have the conversations while Sydney and Michael struggle not to let themselves burst out and, God forbid, actually speak their minds. Agent Vaughn and Agent Bristow talk about how the last mission went and possibilities for yet another counter-mission; Michael and Sydney sit quietly by, twiddling their thumbs, waiting for a time when counter-missions won't be necessary. The handler informs his asset of the newest security threat, and Mike tries to resist the urge to sweep everything off the table and throw Syd upon it, ravishing her body for hours. Play? I think not.
They also say that if you think about the what-ifs, you'll never get around to what is. Right now, I'd rather stick with the what-ifs: they're a lot more pleasant than what actually is. So, if you don't mind, I might just dabble into the fantasy world for a while, soak in my own self pity until I find the courage to dial up that number and ask for yet another Joey's Pizza. Don't mind the occasional random thoughts; I'm just saying whatever pops into my head, and if that includes needing to get fabric softener on the way home, so be it. Let's start at the beginning.
What if I hadn't met Miss Sydney Bristow? What if she had never come running into the CIA with her Valentine's-red hair? Would I still be in love with Alice? Would we be married? Or would I still be longing for that perfect someone? Knowing she was just around a corner, but knowing which one was a different story. I can't just assume that Syd and I would have met each other, CIA or no CIA; in my line of work, you learn quickly that there is no such thing as fate or destiny. Nothing happens for a reason, but because of a choice someone made at one point in time. Sydney made the choice of becoming a double agent, and I decided to join the CIA as a result of my father's demise. Only after those choices did we even have a chance at meeting. It would have been just as easy for Devlin to have assigned her to Weiss instead of me. But I thank God every day that did not happen.
This is my theory: if I did not meet Sydney Bristow when I did, my watch wouldn't have stopped. Before that fateful day, I had made a pact with myself. My father said that a person could set his heart by this watch, and I intended to. I said to myself, I said: the day Dad's watch stops is the day that I meet the person I'll spend the rest of my life with. If my watch never stopped…well, I'd be a creepy old bachelor who stayed up late at night looking up pictures of Britney Spears on the Internet. I won't settle for second place, the consolation prize; never have, never will. When it comes to the most important decision in life, I was not going to leave it in the hands of something other than my watch. I may not believe in fate, but I am extremely superstitious.
Number two: what if Syd and I had been just one foot closer after my rescue in Taipei? Now, I bet you were expecting a question about winding up needing a rescue in the first place. Yes, I did wonder about that, but not needing deliverance and making it out of that place with Sydney had a less favourable outcome, so I didn't dwell on it long. If I had escaped with her, it would have ended like any other mission: "Good job, Syd. See ya back in LA for your debriefing." As it is, the reality of the matter was unpleasant enough: I was one foot away from tasting her sweet lips, thanking her in the primal, hormonal way I wanted. I can't even remember what I said (damn adrenaline; made everything go so fast and not the way I would have preferred), but it was nowhere near what I was thinking. Now, I'm not one for flowery speeches, but I definitely would have sacrificed all of my testosterone for one uninhibited minute alone with her.
Every time that thought comes up in the back of my mind, I remind myself of one thing: if I had totally lost it and tried to jump her blonde bones, she would have failed in her mission, been found out, and subsequently killed. Gee, when you think of it that way, self-restraint is not that bad.
Speaking of which, I need to get a new leash for Donovan. Got to write that down…
So far, we've been having the yearlong conversation. Stop me when you see the playing begin.
Now where was I? Oh, yes. Perplexity number three. What if Sydney's mother had never turned herself in? What if she had never found out about Project Christmas? See, these come as a packaged deal because…well, because they're Sydney's parents, and each has as profound an effect as the other regarding her mental state. Let's start with her mother.
Irina Derevko surrendered herself to the government for unknown reasons. But since then, Sydney and I have become profoundly closer, probably because of our mutual unfathomable hatred for this woman. She murdered my father and my hope for a normal job; she slaughtered Laura Bristow and the emotional side of Jack Bristow. With the disintegration of our respective families, we have no one to confide in but each other, Derevko serving as the pivotal screw in our similarly dysfunctional families. If the bitch hadn't turned herself in…well, we wouldn't be as close as we are now. Simple as that. The same goes for the revelation of Syd's participation in her father's Project Christmas. I can barely begin to imagine the betrayal she must have felt when she realized the full magnitude of what had happened. And she came to me: just me. Despite the dismal situation, that was definitely my cream filling. Or is the expression silver lining?
Numero quatre: what if "Rita" had never met Alice? Yeah, I'm gonna bring that up. This thought almost goes back to the second question. If I had made it out, then I would have been exposed to the virus as long as Syd, therefore not sending me to the hospital and allowing the opportunity for the two women in my life to meet. I've thought about this question long and hard, and I've only been able to come up with one remotely satisfying answer: it would have happened eventually. No, I'm not saying it was destined to happen, just that Syd would eventually find out about Alice. After all, she's my…girlfriend. Believe me, I'm starting to choke as much as you do when I say "Alice" and (gulp) "girlfriend" in the same sentence. The thing is, the situation wasn't exactly what I would've liked it to be. I had at least hoped I could be there to introduce the two, not in an operating room where they were trying to stabilize my vital signs. And the time at the restaurant…God, that was pure SD-6/Alliance-like torture. I wanted to rip my arm off for still gripping Alice's hand like a small, lost child. The look in Syd's eyes when she saw the two of us walk in…I would subject myself to perpetual, daily torture for the rest of my life before I ever want to see her eyes radiate that look again. And I yearned to wrap a nice, long strip of duct tape across Alice's flapping mouth; she was so sickly sweet and courteous in that obviously awkward situation. I've always wondered if she couldn't feel the tension; for Syd, Will, and me it was as palpable as the clothes we were wearing.
That reminds me. I need to get a new suit. I mean, it is pretty sad when your asset compliments you on your attire and that's only because you haven't worn it in ages. Yeah, that was pretty uncomfortable too. Maybe I'll get a suit in Sydney's favourite colour: green.
Now, the biggest and most thought-about conundrum of them all: the mother load. What if I had caught up to Sydney? You know, when I tried to explain about Alice and she ran away? That. See, I've spent many a sleepless night thinking about this, turning it over and over in my head, contemplating it so hard that I'd have a giant migraine in the morning and have to take my economy-size jar of aspirin to the office the next day. All that time and I've come up with…nothing. Not one thing. If I drew even with Syd that day, I'm not sure what I would have said; I could have made her listen, but she would have cleaned my clock so quickly that I wouldn't have even known that I got her attention. I could have told her the truth, but that might have lead to even more unpleasantness: broken jaw, missing teeth, permanent inability to have children. On the other side of that same vein, her face could have lit up in a haze of passion and proclaimed her undying love, laying claim to me by seizing my lips, literally taking my breath away and making my skin hum and yearn for more contact…YEAH RIGHT! Wake up, Vaughn! Dream's over! Back to reality! Yeah, I know it sucks, but what can you do? That's the way I wished it had gone down. But all work and no play makes Michael Vaughn…normal.
"All life is is four or five big days that change everything." Yeah. Tell me about it.
You know, they say that you can discover more about a person in an hour of play than in a year of conversation. But what if you never get to play?
*~*
Author's Note: Another one of my one-chapter stories. But…I could do another batch of what-ifs from Syd's point of view. I'd need some suggestions, though. I think I pretty much used the big ones in this story. Anyways…REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!!! LoL. I love them: 'tis my very food!
: ) Becky, the Dream Writer 4 Life