Behind Blue Eyes
Author: Brynne Summary: A songfic. Sydney contemplates Sark. S/S
Category: Angst Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Please don't sue. I have no money. Alias is not mine, neither is The Who.
AN: I thought it was a one-parter but I got an idea to put Sydney into the works.
Stupid Sark.
I so had that Rambaldi thingy...Whatever it was. Sigh. Probably some one hundred year old scroll with the secret for eternal life or something.
It doesn't really matter what it was, the point is I had it first. I was the one who had to wear the very revealing dress, seduce some old guy to get a key, beat up some bad guys, and very carefully get the stupid scroll or artifact or whatever without tripping some alarm. And then all of a sudden, he's right behind me, with that stupid grin and a gun. Says something cocky in that sexy (I mean...stupid) accent. Takes the...thingy. Leaves.
Stupid blue eyes.
Stupid Sark.
Stupid Sydney.
I've been sitting in my car for the last twenty minutes, brooding.
Banging my head on the steering wheel seems like a good idea.
Ouch.
Ok. Start the car. Drive. Listen to the radio. Listen to The Who's Behind Blue Eyes.
Wait. The Who is a little different than the blues my radio is set on. Guess the DJ wanted to try something new...
No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes.
Uhhh....ok breathe. Don't freak out because this song is exactly about the man you love...err...hate.
No one knows what it's like
To be hated
To be fated
To telling only lies
I wonder...does he really have feelings? I use to think of him as a cold-blooded killer. But is he really? Have I just misunderstood his actions? Maybe he's not so bad underneath...
But my dreams
They aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be
Does he even dream? If he does, are they happy? Are they nightmares? Does he wake up at night, sweating, and scared of going back to sleep? Or maybe he's an insomniac...
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free
He seems to love being sadistic. Vengeance is so much like a drug. Perhaps he has tasted that drug and is addicted...
No one knows what it's like
To feel these feeling
Like I do
And I blame you
I blame Sark for making me fall for him. He just has to have the most shocking, beautiful blue eyes and the sexiest accent. And yet I also blame them for forcing me into this world of masked agendas, no emotions, and spinning into the abyss.
No one bites back as hard
On their anger
None of my pain and woe
Can show through
I wear a mask. He does too. We both hide it all. But the question is, can he take his mask off?
But my dreams
They aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free
I love him. I can never show it, though. When I'm around him, walls go up. I'm not sure if they will ever crumble...
When my fist clenches, crack it opne
Before I use it and lose my cool
When I smile, tell me so bad news
Before I laugh and act like a fool
Sark is so intriguing. His past holds some deep secrets. I wonder how he got into this business, what his first name is, and if his accent is really British or maybe Irish.
If I swallow anything evil
Put your finger down my throat
If I shiver, please give me a blanket
Keep me warm, let me wear your coat
No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
Silence.
I shiver. In fact, I'm downright shaking. Chills run down my spine.
Whoa. When was I driving? And how long have I've been sitting in my driveway?
Ok. Breathe. Get out of the car and...
Wait.
Silence?
The car is still on but the radio isn't playing...
It wasn't the radio.
It's a cd.
A cd that isn't mine. An unmarked cd that only has one song on it...
Sark.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
So? Do you like it? And don't worry, I'll work on Bombshell.
PLEASE REVIEW!!! The little blue button is lonely...so click on it!
Author: Brynne Summary: A songfic. Sydney contemplates Sark. S/S
Category: Angst Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Please don't sue. I have no money. Alias is not mine, neither is The Who.
AN: I thought it was a one-parter but I got an idea to put Sydney into the works.
Stupid Sark.
I so had that Rambaldi thingy...Whatever it was. Sigh. Probably some one hundred year old scroll with the secret for eternal life or something.
It doesn't really matter what it was, the point is I had it first. I was the one who had to wear the very revealing dress, seduce some old guy to get a key, beat up some bad guys, and very carefully get the stupid scroll or artifact or whatever without tripping some alarm. And then all of a sudden, he's right behind me, with that stupid grin and a gun. Says something cocky in that sexy (I mean...stupid) accent. Takes the...thingy. Leaves.
Stupid blue eyes.
Stupid Sark.
Stupid Sydney.
I've been sitting in my car for the last twenty minutes, brooding.
Banging my head on the steering wheel seems like a good idea.
Ouch.
Ok. Start the car. Drive. Listen to the radio. Listen to The Who's Behind Blue Eyes.
Wait. The Who is a little different than the blues my radio is set on. Guess the DJ wanted to try something new...
No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes.
Uhhh....ok breathe. Don't freak out because this song is exactly about the man you love...err...hate.
No one knows what it's like
To be hated
To be fated
To telling only lies
I wonder...does he really have feelings? I use to think of him as a cold-blooded killer. But is he really? Have I just misunderstood his actions? Maybe he's not so bad underneath...
But my dreams
They aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be
Does he even dream? If he does, are they happy? Are they nightmares? Does he wake up at night, sweating, and scared of going back to sleep? Or maybe he's an insomniac...
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free
He seems to love being sadistic. Vengeance is so much like a drug. Perhaps he has tasted that drug and is addicted...
No one knows what it's like
To feel these feeling
Like I do
And I blame you
I blame Sark for making me fall for him. He just has to have the most shocking, beautiful blue eyes and the sexiest accent. And yet I also blame them for forcing me into this world of masked agendas, no emotions, and spinning into the abyss.
No one bites back as hard
On their anger
None of my pain and woe
Can show through
I wear a mask. He does too. We both hide it all. But the question is, can he take his mask off?
But my dreams
They aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free
I love him. I can never show it, though. When I'm around him, walls go up. I'm not sure if they will ever crumble...
When my fist clenches, crack it opne
Before I use it and lose my cool
When I smile, tell me so bad news
Before I laugh and act like a fool
Sark is so intriguing. His past holds some deep secrets. I wonder how he got into this business, what his first name is, and if his accent is really British or maybe Irish.
If I swallow anything evil
Put your finger down my throat
If I shiver, please give me a blanket
Keep me warm, let me wear your coat
No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
Silence.
I shiver. In fact, I'm downright shaking. Chills run down my spine.
Whoa. When was I driving? And how long have I've been sitting in my driveway?
Ok. Breathe. Get out of the car and...
Wait.
Silence?
The car is still on but the radio isn't playing...
It wasn't the radio.
It's a cd.
A cd that isn't mine. An unmarked cd that only has one song on it...
Sark.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
So? Do you like it? And don't worry, I'll work on Bombshell.
PLEASE REVIEW!!! The little blue button is lonely...so click on it!