Author's Note: Thank you SO MUCH for all your kind reviews! *happy sigh* Nothing better than coming home after a tiring day at uni and finding out that Alias fans are actually enjoying this story!
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They say that right before you die, your whole life flashes before your eyes. I beg to differ. My last thoughts were more along the lines of 'Sark', 'kiss', and 'whyyy'.
'Do you have a headache?'
I slowly open one eye and see him looking at me strangely.
EXHALE!
'A little,' I say a tad too enthusiastically, pressing on my temples. Oh pleaseplease please let him not realise what I was doing before he woke up, said my name, and saw me jamming my eyes shut and grimacing. Why did he say my name when he woke up anyway? What if he did see me take the photos and is simply putting up an act because he enjoys playing with my already tortured mind? Oh man. I think I really do have a headache.
'Here,' he says, offering me two tablets and a glass of water (where'd he get those from??), 'this should help.'
My stomach does a loop-the-loop. He…actually looks concerned.
'Thanks,' I mumble, horrified that I'm blushing. I carefully pick up the tablets, trying ohsohard not to notice how warm his skin is and how utterly perfect his hand is - palm fingers nails everything. Everything. Perfect. I'll just ignore the fact that those same hands have fired guns/strangled necks/slit throats etc.
I swallow quickly, trying to wash these disturbing thoughts down with the painkillers.
He's watching me, smiling. I am melting. Hear that? Melting.
'What are you looking at?' I say weakly. That was meant to sound authoritative, by the way. Not happening.
'You,' he replies simply, before returning to his Suspicious So-Called Sleep.
I sigh.
*
'Good job, Sydney. The duplicates are being analysed as we speak.'
I nod absently.
'Did the mission go well?' he asks. I nod again.
I vaguely register his furrowed eyebrows. 'Nothing…out of the ordinary happened?'
I blink. Define 'ordinary' sweetheart. Besides, as IF I'll tell him anyway! 'No,' I say slowly, 'why are you asking?'
He gives me the mournful-sad-eyes-wrinkled-forehead look. 'You seem…distracted.' I shrug.
'I did what you told me to do. That's all there is to it.'
He hesitates before saying softly, 'We need to talk.'
Oh oh.
'About Alice -'
I cut him off, raising my hand and looking at him warningly.
'Sydney, please -'
'Vaughn, we've already covered this. You don't owe me an explanation. Your personal life is your business. You're allowed to date, you know. I'm not stopping you.' I rush on, knowing that I'm really explaining things to myself, 'I'm…I'm okay with that. Totally. I don't want to hold you back. You've helped me through so much, and I'm grateful, but we don't owe each other anything. Just - be happy Vaughn.'
Wow. I actually did it. He looks at me with what can only be tired resignation. 'Yeah. You too, Syd.'
I say goodbye and know that now, there's no turning back.
*
