Slamming shut his car door, Vaughn approached the bar entrance. What was
Sydney doing in a place like this?
Upon entering, Vaughn's senses were bombarded as the thick scent of smoke and booze reached his nose. Onstage, a woman was crooning various torch songs. Where was Sydney? Vaughn couldn't find her among the people gathered. Wondering vaguely if this was a setup, Vaughn was just about to leave when he spotted a figure, huddling in the corner by the bar. She was shivering.
"Oh, Syd. . ." Vaughn said to himself. She looked pretty messed up.
Walking quickly towards her, Vaughn became increasingly worried. In adversity, Sydney acted angry, defiant, stubborn, and frustrated, but she never seemed broken like she was now. What had happened?
At first, it appeared that Sydney hadn't noticed that Vaughn was now standing next to her. She didn't look at him, she just continued shivering.
"Hi." she finally mustered, her voice soft and heavy. Slowly her body uncurled from its position, and she leaned against the wall, looking up at him. She has such expressive eyes, he thought. It was easy to tell how they were holding back tears.
Vaughn slid his back down the wall and sat next to her, their arms just barely touching.
"Hey." he said softly. How he wanted to just hold her, shield her in his arms. Over her shoulder he noticed that she seemed to be taking up a collection of empty shot glasses.
"What happened, Syd?"
"Sark and I had a conversation."
"What did he say to you?" Instantly he became protective.
"It's just. . . Francie and I had a fight because I've been too distant, and. . . Oh, everything he said was true. . ." Vaughn wasn't following-she was too drunk.
"Except what he said about Francie. . . I would never hurt Francie. . ." her voice was cracking. She had definitely had too much to drink.
"Syd, listen. . . Syd!" she had begun to bury her head in her hands. Vaughn cupped her face in his hands and forced her to look at him. In the background, soft jazz music eased the tension of the conversation somewhat.
"They asked me how I knew. . . My true love was true. . ."
"Tell me what happened, Syd." He continued looking at her. Sydney took a breath.
"When Francie left after we had this fight, Sark showed up. I told to him stop using Francie to get to me. Then he accused me of using Francie. He said that I didn't care about any of them. . . not even Danny. . . he said I was just using them to make me feel like I had a family." she paused.
"Because I never had a family in the first place. They never loved me."
"Syd, you know that's not true. Your mother-" Vaughn started. Sydney didn't give him the chance to finish.
"My Mother what, Vaughn?? My mother loved me?!" Sydney laughed bitterly. Vaughn looked at her surprised. This could not be Sydney Bristow. She was too cynical, too uncaring. In one conversation with Sark, all of her pent up emotions had come seething to the surface.
Sydney looked at him, her expression unreadable. They sat staring at each other for some time, and Vaughn began to watch her eyes well up with water, slowly but surely. She couldn't hold it back much longer. Reflecting the dim lights in the bar, every second her eyes seemed to grow wider, deeper.
Finally, she blinked. One stubborn, defiant tear appeared and arced down her cheek. Tentatively, Vaughn reached up and brushed it away; wishing with everything in him that he could brush away her problems just as easily.
"I of course replied. . . Something deep inside, cannot be denied. . ."
His hand still rested on her face, caressing her cheek. Suddenly, Sydney's eyes widened in realization of what was happening. Vaughn quickly withdrew his hand, and Sydney looked down in embarrassment. A moment passed before she spoke again.
"Face it Vaughn. My entire childhood-It was all an act! And," she added, "When my mother left, all my father did was keep up appearances."
"Syd, just because you had a bad childhood doesn't give you the right to ruin your life forever. I won't let you."
"What do you know about it, Vaughn?" she snapped. "Bartender, could you get me another one of these?" she asked, waving the shot glass in the air. The bartender looked at Vaughn sitting next to her. Vaughn shook his head in response. Sydney would not be consuming anymore alcohol tonight.
He turned his attention to Sydney.
"You think I don't know what it's like to have a rough childhood? May I remind you that your mother put my father into and early grave? Don't even try pulling that defense tactic on me, Sydney."
She looked at him, surprised for a moment. He didn't usually talk back. Vaughn could tell he was throwing her off guard.
"I'm sorry." she said, simply. It was enough.
"Why has this shaken you up so much, Syd? It's just Sark."
"That's just it. . . Sark's figured me out. He totally understands everything that's going on in my head, and it scares the hell out of me Vaughn!" she said, raising her voice.
"The worst part is that everything he said had a ring of truth to it, you know? Half the time I am using Francie and I am using Will. I'm afraid they're going to turn into one of my missions, with me lying and exploiting them; not caring about them. . . I used to think I was being a hero-Now I'm starting to realize it's just another alias."
Vaughn didn't know what to say. He felt the same way half the time. Especially with Alice-God, he hated himself for that.
"And then when Sark kissed me. . ."Sydney continued. Alarm bells rang in Vaughn's head.
"He WHAT?? Sydney, why weren't you telling me this part before??" Vaugh knew he was acting incredibly unprofessional, but he couldn't stop himself. Then again, he mused, Syd and I crossed that line a long time ago. What's a few steps further?
"I can't believe he-"
"Will you shut up?" Sydney was laughing. "Quit acting jealous. . ."
"I wasn't. . ." Vaughn muttered, but couldn't finish. He was too honest to pretend he didn't care. Looking up, he noticed Sydney wasn't laughing anymore. She didn't seem particularly sober anymore, either.
"It's funny, I know. . . but that's what scared me the most in that entire conversation," she said, "He had made me feel so alone. . . and then he kissed me."
Just then she tipped her head back in startled realization.
"And you know what Vaughn? For 2 seconds, I kissed him back. For 2 precious seconds, I gave in. I wanted so desperately to give in." she looked at him.
"I don't want to be alone anymore, Vaughn."
"They said someday you'll find, all who love are blind. . . When you're heart's on fire, you must realize. . . Smoke gets in your Eyes. . ."
Leaning in, looking straight into his eyes, she caught her lips with his own. Vaughn suddenly understood what Sydney had meant when she talked about wanting to give in. As the kiss deepened, all he could think about was how much he needed her. He didn't want to be alone anymore either. It didn't matter how many friends he had, he couldn't tell anyone-but Sydney understood him. With Sydney, he was never truly alone.
But there was always that other tiny little voice deep inside. The voice of rationality. A war began waging inside his head.
She's drunk. I can't take advantage of her like this. . .
But she's right here. . . I can't let her go. . . Sydney was running her fingers through his hair as she continued kissing him. The kiss was deep and tender at the same time. Just like I imagined it would be. . . Vaughn thought.
This will not answer your problems, Vaughn, only create more. . .
But then again, I may never get the chance again. . . Holding her felt so right, he noticed. They fit together.
You'll blow Sydney's cover, Vaughn. . . It's too dangerous for Sydney.
That convinced him.
Slowly, gently, he held Sydney's face and pulled away. He could see the confusion in her eyes, searching his for an explanation.
"Vaughn?" she said softly.
Still inches away from her face, he whispered, "I can't. . ."
Holding her face in his hands, he rubbed his thumb slowly over her lips. She closed her eyes.
I've got to get out before I can't stop myself, Vaughn thought. It won't happen like this.
Sydney didn't look at him as he got up to leave, just kept her eyes closed.
"Love you. . ." she whispered, almost inaudibly, as soon as he walked out the door.
"So I smile and say. . . When a lovely flame dies, Smoke gets in your Eyes. . ."
Upon entering, Vaughn's senses were bombarded as the thick scent of smoke and booze reached his nose. Onstage, a woman was crooning various torch songs. Where was Sydney? Vaughn couldn't find her among the people gathered. Wondering vaguely if this was a setup, Vaughn was just about to leave when he spotted a figure, huddling in the corner by the bar. She was shivering.
"Oh, Syd. . ." Vaughn said to himself. She looked pretty messed up.
Walking quickly towards her, Vaughn became increasingly worried. In adversity, Sydney acted angry, defiant, stubborn, and frustrated, but she never seemed broken like she was now. What had happened?
At first, it appeared that Sydney hadn't noticed that Vaughn was now standing next to her. She didn't look at him, she just continued shivering.
"Hi." she finally mustered, her voice soft and heavy. Slowly her body uncurled from its position, and she leaned against the wall, looking up at him. She has such expressive eyes, he thought. It was easy to tell how they were holding back tears.
Vaughn slid his back down the wall and sat next to her, their arms just barely touching.
"Hey." he said softly. How he wanted to just hold her, shield her in his arms. Over her shoulder he noticed that she seemed to be taking up a collection of empty shot glasses.
"What happened, Syd?"
"Sark and I had a conversation."
"What did he say to you?" Instantly he became protective.
"It's just. . . Francie and I had a fight because I've been too distant, and. . . Oh, everything he said was true. . ." Vaughn wasn't following-she was too drunk.
"Except what he said about Francie. . . I would never hurt Francie. . ." her voice was cracking. She had definitely had too much to drink.
"Syd, listen. . . Syd!" she had begun to bury her head in her hands. Vaughn cupped her face in his hands and forced her to look at him. In the background, soft jazz music eased the tension of the conversation somewhat.
"They asked me how I knew. . . My true love was true. . ."
"Tell me what happened, Syd." He continued looking at her. Sydney took a breath.
"When Francie left after we had this fight, Sark showed up. I told to him stop using Francie to get to me. Then he accused me of using Francie. He said that I didn't care about any of them. . . not even Danny. . . he said I was just using them to make me feel like I had a family." she paused.
"Because I never had a family in the first place. They never loved me."
"Syd, you know that's not true. Your mother-" Vaughn started. Sydney didn't give him the chance to finish.
"My Mother what, Vaughn?? My mother loved me?!" Sydney laughed bitterly. Vaughn looked at her surprised. This could not be Sydney Bristow. She was too cynical, too uncaring. In one conversation with Sark, all of her pent up emotions had come seething to the surface.
Sydney looked at him, her expression unreadable. They sat staring at each other for some time, and Vaughn began to watch her eyes well up with water, slowly but surely. She couldn't hold it back much longer. Reflecting the dim lights in the bar, every second her eyes seemed to grow wider, deeper.
Finally, she blinked. One stubborn, defiant tear appeared and arced down her cheek. Tentatively, Vaughn reached up and brushed it away; wishing with everything in him that he could brush away her problems just as easily.
"I of course replied. . . Something deep inside, cannot be denied. . ."
His hand still rested on her face, caressing her cheek. Suddenly, Sydney's eyes widened in realization of what was happening. Vaughn quickly withdrew his hand, and Sydney looked down in embarrassment. A moment passed before she spoke again.
"Face it Vaughn. My entire childhood-It was all an act! And," she added, "When my mother left, all my father did was keep up appearances."
"Syd, just because you had a bad childhood doesn't give you the right to ruin your life forever. I won't let you."
"What do you know about it, Vaughn?" she snapped. "Bartender, could you get me another one of these?" she asked, waving the shot glass in the air. The bartender looked at Vaughn sitting next to her. Vaughn shook his head in response. Sydney would not be consuming anymore alcohol tonight.
He turned his attention to Sydney.
"You think I don't know what it's like to have a rough childhood? May I remind you that your mother put my father into and early grave? Don't even try pulling that defense tactic on me, Sydney."
She looked at him, surprised for a moment. He didn't usually talk back. Vaughn could tell he was throwing her off guard.
"I'm sorry." she said, simply. It was enough.
"Why has this shaken you up so much, Syd? It's just Sark."
"That's just it. . . Sark's figured me out. He totally understands everything that's going on in my head, and it scares the hell out of me Vaughn!" she said, raising her voice.
"The worst part is that everything he said had a ring of truth to it, you know? Half the time I am using Francie and I am using Will. I'm afraid they're going to turn into one of my missions, with me lying and exploiting them; not caring about them. . . I used to think I was being a hero-Now I'm starting to realize it's just another alias."
Vaughn didn't know what to say. He felt the same way half the time. Especially with Alice-God, he hated himself for that.
"And then when Sark kissed me. . ."Sydney continued. Alarm bells rang in Vaughn's head.
"He WHAT?? Sydney, why weren't you telling me this part before??" Vaugh knew he was acting incredibly unprofessional, but he couldn't stop himself. Then again, he mused, Syd and I crossed that line a long time ago. What's a few steps further?
"I can't believe he-"
"Will you shut up?" Sydney was laughing. "Quit acting jealous. . ."
"I wasn't. . ." Vaughn muttered, but couldn't finish. He was too honest to pretend he didn't care. Looking up, he noticed Sydney wasn't laughing anymore. She didn't seem particularly sober anymore, either.
"It's funny, I know. . . but that's what scared me the most in that entire conversation," she said, "He had made me feel so alone. . . and then he kissed me."
Just then she tipped her head back in startled realization.
"And you know what Vaughn? For 2 seconds, I kissed him back. For 2 precious seconds, I gave in. I wanted so desperately to give in." she looked at him.
"I don't want to be alone anymore, Vaughn."
"They said someday you'll find, all who love are blind. . . When you're heart's on fire, you must realize. . . Smoke gets in your Eyes. . ."
Leaning in, looking straight into his eyes, she caught her lips with his own. Vaughn suddenly understood what Sydney had meant when she talked about wanting to give in. As the kiss deepened, all he could think about was how much he needed her. He didn't want to be alone anymore either. It didn't matter how many friends he had, he couldn't tell anyone-but Sydney understood him. With Sydney, he was never truly alone.
But there was always that other tiny little voice deep inside. The voice of rationality. A war began waging inside his head.
She's drunk. I can't take advantage of her like this. . .
But she's right here. . . I can't let her go. . . Sydney was running her fingers through his hair as she continued kissing him. The kiss was deep and tender at the same time. Just like I imagined it would be. . . Vaughn thought.
This will not answer your problems, Vaughn, only create more. . .
But then again, I may never get the chance again. . . Holding her felt so right, he noticed. They fit together.
You'll blow Sydney's cover, Vaughn. . . It's too dangerous for Sydney.
That convinced him.
Slowly, gently, he held Sydney's face and pulled away. He could see the confusion in her eyes, searching his for an explanation.
"Vaughn?" she said softly.
Still inches away from her face, he whispered, "I can't. . ."
Holding her face in his hands, he rubbed his thumb slowly over her lips. She closed her eyes.
I've got to get out before I can't stop myself, Vaughn thought. It won't happen like this.
Sydney didn't look at him as he got up to leave, just kept her eyes closed.
"Love you. . ." she whispered, almost inaudibly, as soon as he walked out the door.
"So I smile and say. . . When a lovely flame dies, Smoke gets in your Eyes. . ."