Title: Dream With Me

Author: Drake

Category: Drama/Romance

Disclaimer: Don't own anything, because if I did, ABC would never have Sundays when they didn't show Alias.

Rating: G

Summary: They wake up and their lives are perfect. Nothing stands between them and a life of normalcy. But can something so ideal and complete be real? S/V.

Feedback: Very welcome. I need something to base improvements on.

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Dream With Me

~ Prologue ~

She looked so peaceful when she slept, so at ease, with no turmoil or unrest impending on her mind. Just the state of great calmness one knows in respite. He enjoyed simply watching her rest, so every morning - when he habitually rose at five o'clock - he would, silently and without waking her, turn off the alarm and prop himself against the headboard, content on just sitting there on the mattress to marvel at her serene beauty. Once in a while he might lean over to kiss her softly on the cheek, or to envelop her smooth, tanned hand in his own. But save for this occasional quiet show of emotion, he was stagnant - unmoving - until the faint thud of the daily newspaper hitting the front step roused him from his reverie.

It was on a morning such as this that the familiar noise reached his sensitive ears. He glanced at his watch. Six o'clock, on the dot. It was the same everyday, never untimely or belated. In some ways it chagrined him to realize he had done nothing the past hour but watch her sleep. But always he came to the conclusion that it was an hour well spent.

He threw the covers back from his body, careful not to disturb her slumber, and swung his legs onto the floor, feeling the coldness of the wood on the soles of his bare feet. He silently stole from the bedroom and, knowing exactly where the floorboards creaked, stepped over them and made his way to the bathroom.

By the time he reemerged from the shower, the bed was empty and made. Small streams of sunlight peeked from the tiny cracks in the blinds. He quickly pulled on a pair of loose denim jeans and shrugged a dark red tee over his undershirt. He frowned at what he had chosen to wear and glimpsed at his wardrobe. Dark. What wasn't black was navy blue, burgundy, or gray. He decided that the next time they went shopping, he'd be adventurous and buy a white polo shirt.

The distinct aroma of coffee wafted into the room, and he realized how hungry he was. Running a hand through his damp hair, he left for the kitchen, where she was busy unfolding the paper to the 'Arts and Entertainment' section.

"You turned off the alarm again, didn't you?" she asked, sipping from her mug, her eyes still trained on the page in front of her.

He smiled and made his way past her to the cupboard. "You don't have to ask," he said, pulling out bowl and a spoon. "It's always me. Besides, I don't see why it matters. It's our day off." He poured some cereal into the bowl and opened the refrigerator to get milk.

She shrugged and turned the page. "So what do you want to do today?" she asked.

He glanced over her shoulder at the newspaper, noisily munching on his breakfast. "We could go watch a movie," he suggested around his mouthful of cereal.

She studied the print on the page for a moment. "Which one?"

He pointed. "That one's been getting pretty good reviews."

"It just came out two days ago," she said, turning to face him. "The crowd will be horrible."

"It's six-thirty on a Saturday morning. Not many people are up right now."

"We are."

"Well, we're different."

She turned her attention back to the paper. "Whatever. In any case, the theater isn't even open yet, so the fact that we're both awake is irrelevant."

The phone rang. He set the bowl on the counter and picked up the handset.

"Hello?"

"Hi," the caller said, sounding somewhat perplexed. "Is Pete there?"

"Sorry, wrong number," he said and hung up. He looked at her, saw the smirk on her face as she watched him pick up the bowl again. "What?"

"Wrong number?"

"Seriously, it was."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

She raised her eyebrows and nodded. "Okay."

"Really."

She held up her hands. "I believe you. I was just making sure it wasn't someone calling for pizza."

He snorted into his bowl. "Who would be ordering pizza at six-thirty in the morning?"

She groaned good-naturedly and rolled her eyes. "We are not starting that again."

"Starting what?"

She shook her head and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm going to go take a shower." She set her mug down and handed the paper to him, walking past him in those new slippers she purchased last week.

He looked at the newspaper in his hands. "Movie starts at nine," he called to her retreating back.

"Then I'll be ready in two and a half hours," was her reply before she disappeared into the bathroom.

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Well, that was the end of the first chapter. OK, so a "prologue" isn't really a chapter, but.Anyhoot (like that word?), you interested yet? It was a horrible piece of crap, those two pages. Horribly horrible. But, you know, that's what you get for fifteen minutes worth of writing. Anyway, for those of you who somehow managed to like that, second chapter (or first, however you want to see it) is coming up soon. But in the meantime, please R/R! I'd really appreciate it!