***I know, I KNOW. I left you hanging in Sorry and haven't bothered to
update it in forever. And I cannot apologize enough. But I want it to end
just right. I started out doing something a bit off the wall but it didn't
work how I wanted it to. So I have started the whole chapter all over
again. So it may take a while. SO . . . in the meantime, I have provided
you with this extremely fluffy S/V shipper piece. Be sure to R/R! You know
how I love my reviews;)
-
-
-
-
It was seven o'clock in the evening and Sydney Bristow lay sprawled across her comforter with an open book in her hands. It was a Robert Ludlum novel, she had always been able drown her self in his spy stories because, well, lets just say she could relate. One might think that someone like Sydney would spend her time trying to get away from the life she lead, but the difference between her life and the fictional Jason Bournes is that he was guaranteed a happy ending, something she most certainly was not. And this was the reasoning behind the anticipation she felt with the turn every page, the thrill she was normally given when she found herself predicting his every move to a tee. But not tonight. Tonight was different.
47. She had been lying there for nearly three hours and all she had managed to accomplish was 47 pages. And to tell the truth, she had read page 47 nearly three times and had not retained a word of it. Part of that was probably due to the fact that she hadn't a clue as to what was going on, the plot was still unknown to her and the characters she should have over- analyzed by now were still nameless.
Sighing in defeat she finally shut the book and threw it across the room; allowing it to crash nosily into her dresser mere inches from an empty picture frame. This, of-course, was done purposely; Sydney would never do anything to harm the particular frame. It had not always been empty, up until last night it carried a photo of a beautiful young woman and her daughter. But that photo was no longer in tact, but lie on the ground out back with a bullet hole strategically placed in the woman's arm. She had meant to replace the picture a long time ago, knowing full well that the photograph formally residing in the frame had no business anywhere near something she held so dear to her heart (not to mention whom it was she had received it from), but had never really found the time to do so. Last night, she found the time.
Normally, when someone removes a picture from its frame, another picture soon replaces it. But Sydney was by no means a normal person, and she had purposely left the frame empty. The frame was a reminder to her; the emptiness of it gave her strength. It pushed her harder, because she knew that the picture that belonged in the frame could not even be taken until she had accomplished her goals. It reminded her of the happiness that she might find at the end of the struggle.
Pulling her eyes from the frame she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and couldn't help but laugh. Here she was in her favorite jeans (you know, the ones you wear until there are holes in them and then search for the same pair, because they just look so darn good on you), her favorite white turtleneck (the kind that hugged you in all the right places) and the perfect pair of boots (not to tall, not too short, and the perfect shade of brown); all for the pizza boy.
The pizza boy, the man that knew her inside and out, the only person who even knew half of what she was going through. He had known everything there was to know about her, until now. Because now there was something that she just could not talk to him about. Something that she herself had not even realized until Taipei and that something hit her like a ton of bricks. More like a ton of water. When she got back from hell earlier this week, Francie asked her and Will to take a group vacation, go to a beach somewhere and just relax by the water for week or two. But she would not go. She could not be that close to something that had begun to haunt her dreams. Her worst nightmares used to be of Danny, lifeless and bloody in her bathtub. But now they came in the form of a forceful wave crashing down on the man that meant more than the world to her. And when she woke up after these dreams she was always caked in sweat, tangled in her sheets and on the verge of tears.
Will had graciously offered to go with Francie, suggesting it as an opportunity to help him 'recover' from his 'addiction'. She hopes that Will hates her, even if it is only a little part of him that does. Because if he doesn't, he is an idiot. Because of her, he lost his job and more than a few of his teeth. That is not something a good friend does to you.
She begins to wrestle the idea of ordering some pizza. One part of her begs her not to, tells her that if he really wanted to see her than he would make the call, he knew her number as well as she knew his. But the other part of her says what the hell, he himself said that she could call him when she needed to talk, and she did. Finally, the selfish part of her won out, and she reached for the phone and began to dial her lifeline.
The ringing lasted what seemed like hours, and finally she heard his voice, and surprisingly it sounded more anxious than tired.
"Hello?"
She surpressed a laugh and answered in a bubbly voice.
"Joey's Pizza?"
"I.Uh.wrong number."
She could feel him smiling on the other end.
"Well if you aren't Joey's Pizza, shouldn't you be asleep this time of night?"
"I've had someone on my mind. What about you, what brought on the sudden urge to order pizza so late?"
"Ah.well.you see, I realized that I hadn't had delivery pizza in at least two days and was feeling separation anxiety."
His infectious laugh made her smile widen, it wasn't every day that they shared such meaningless banter.
"Well I am sorry if I couldn't help, but if you don't mind my asking, what exactly was it that you were hoping to order tonight?"
"A medium with everything."
"Good choice. I hope you have better luck with you next call."
"Well that's very nice coming from a complete stranger."
"Maybe I'm just a nice guy."
"Goodnight nice guy."
"Goodnight."
It was amazing how such a pointless conversation could mean so much to two people. Normally, that kind of thing happened daily, but normal people don't meet in clandestine warehouses and underground government offices.
Sydney grabbed her keys and put on her precious pea coat (the kind you splurge on because it isn't often that you find something that not only do you love, but keeps you more than warm) And heads out the door. Glancing in her rearview mirror, she smiles at the sudden change in her demeanor. Her sulky eyes had that sparkle back, and her pout had turned into a wide grin.
It was then that she realized that she could not survive without pizza.
To an outsider, the warehouse would have seemed dark and gloomy, and most definitely not a place someone would look forward to spending their Friday nights in. But as Sydney's wheels crunched to a stop she couldn't help but feel silly for the grin that was growing wider on her face. This warehouse had become so important to her, not long ago she had finally let her self admit the attachment she had formed. Of course, that could very well have something to do with whom it was she met in the warehouse that made her feel so.happy.
She climbed out of her old jeep, not without glancing in the mirror and mentally slapping herself for doing so, and made note of the fact that she had to walk softer. It had become a habit of hers to make as little noise as possible to delay the realization of her arrival. He was always watching her, whether it was over a satellite camera or just yards away hidden in a corner, and it was not often that she could return the favor.
-I have a smile stretched from ear to ear To see you walking down the road We meet at the lights; I stare for a while The world around us dissapears-
As Sydney made her first muffled step onto the solid concrete floors, she was immediately bombarded by the smell of food. Good food, the kind of food that makes you forget your former plans, such as a silent entrance. Quickening her gate, she eventually found herself staring at Vaughn, who was grinning like a Cheshire cat balancing a slice of pizza in his hand. Slowly she walked so she was hovering over a box.
"A medium with everything."
"Its what you ordered, isn't it?"
"I am so lucky to have such an efficient handler."
She smiled and took off her coat, lying it on the nearest crate, then joining him on the table with her own slice.
"And I'm lucky for having an asset with such good taste in pizza."
She laughed and looked over at him, watching with curiosity as he finished his off with nearly three bites.
"Well, someone was hungry."
"Near death can do that to a guy."
Now, in a normal conversation, someone might think of this topic as morbid and would steer as far away from it as possible. But Sydney and Vaughn, who were quite far from normal, burst out in laughter. She handed him another slice.
"Thank you."
"Anything for a 'nice guy'."
Agent Vaughn began to chew on his pizza, not concentrating on just how good it was but instead on the woman sitting next to him. Over the years, he had noticed that most woman were very particular with how they ate. They found it 'embarrassing' to chew any form of food in front of a guy, and with a food that was loaded with everything this practice became tricky. But as Sydney Bristow chewed on her pizza, she showed no inhibition. No hand immediately flew to her face to conceal the fact that she was in fact chewing it, and her bites were not smaller than that of a mouse. She was perfectly content with eating the pizza they way pizza should be eaten, without hesitation.
-Its just you and me on my island of hope A breath between us could be my last Let me surround you, my sea to your shore Let me be the calm you seek-
Suddenly, a frown formed on his face. They had known each other for over a year now, and this was the extent of what he knew about her, outside the fact that she could become anyone she wanted to at a moments notice and proceed to fool anyone she pleased, kicking ass in the process. Hell, they hadn't even shared a meal together! The thought angered him. Sure, it was 'frowned upon' to have a close relationship with your asset, but he and Sydney had pretty much thrown that idea out the window.
"Favorite ice cream."
"Excuse me?"
"I asked you what your favorite ice cream was."
"Sounded like more of a statement to me."
She grinned at her sarcasm, but finally relented to his pleading gaze and finished her last bite, reaching for another piece.
"Butter pecan."
"Favorite food."
"I do believe it's my turn, Agent Vaughn."
"Excuse my rudeness, Agent Bristow, go ahead."
"Favorite TV show."
"Friends. Favorite food?"
"At the moment, I'd have to say pizza. Favorite Friend?"
"Rachel."
She interjected before he had a chance to counter her question.
"Rachel? Your favorite friend is Rachel?"
"You asked a question and I answered it. How about you, favorite friend?"
"Definitely Ross."
"What! You jump on me for Rachel when your favorite is Ross? Come on!"
"Ok, I hate to break it to you pal but Rachel is just not funny at all."
"But..."
"Favorite country?"
"France."
"Really? I have always pinned you as a true blue American."
"Well I wasn't born in America now was I?"
This makes her nearly drop the slice of pizza on her white sweater. She gaps at him in shock.
"You WHAT! I had no idea that you."
"Favorite movie?"
At this question she flushed a bit, looking down at her pizza crust, contemplating weather or not to tell the truth.
"Come on now Miss Bristow, you can't lie to me and you know it."
She smiles at the reality of his comment and after releasing an over- exaggerated sigh she relents.
"Moulin Rouge."
She stopped and waited for his response. But all he gave her was a smile.
"You don't look surprised."
"Should I be?"
"Don't tell me you thought I was a sap."
He laughed at the accusation and shook his head.
"Not a sap, per-say, just a hopeless romantic."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I guess I just pictured you coming home from one of your death- defying missions and curling up in front of the TV to some old classic romance."
"You know me too well Vaughn."
His smile disappeared and he looked deep into her eyes.
"Not even close Syd."
She closes her eyes at the personal sentiment, knowing it rang too true. There were so many things they hadn't shared.
"That was the only thing running through my mind in Taipei. If.if anything would have happened, there is such a big part of you that I don't know. So many things."
-And every time I'm close to you There's too much I can't say And you just walk away-
He stopped, afraid to finish the sentence, not knowing where it would lead the conversation.
"I know."
Silence filled the warehouse as they both stared at their shoes. Sydney was the first to speak up.
"Favorite movie?"
"Mighty ducks."
She laughs at the confidence in his voice at such a childish movie.
"Now I should have been able to guess that one."
"Favorite sport?"
"Well, while I am a hockey fan I'd have to say my favorite is baseball. It *is* Americas pastime. I don't believe I need to ask you the same question."
"Don't get me wrong, I love baseball, but hockey is definitely my favorite. Favorite baseball team?"
"Yankees, without a doubt."
"Really?"
"Yeah, why?"
"I don't know, I just always pictured you as the kind of person to route for the underdogs."
"Well, they weren't always the best you know. Plus, how can you not love a team with Derek Jeter at second."
"You have a *thing* for DJ!"
He looks at her in awe, and she shakes her head with a smile on her face.
"Guilty."
He stares at her and laughs in disbelief.
"What?"
"You don't seem like the kind of girl to have a crush on a baseball player."
"What can I say, the guys cute. What about you, celebrity crush?"
His cheeks flush red and he shakes his head, looking towards the ground.
"Vaughn! Come on! You have to tell me, its part of the game. You can't cheat."
"Fine. Audrey Hepburn."
"Why on earth would you feel the need to keep that from me?"
"I dunno, Weiss always enjoys getting a good laugh out of it."
"Well, I am not Weiss, and I find it . . . endearing."
"Endearing?"
"Well yeah, most guys these days go for the young slutty girls who can't seem to keep their clothes on, a la Brittany Spears."
"I am guessing you wouldn't be surprised to know that was Weiss's answer to the question."
They share a small laugh and Vaughn reaches across her to grab another slice. In the process, he finds himself mere inches from her face. He looks up, shivering from the feeling of her breath on his cheek. They sit for a moment just like that, knowing that's as close as they can be for the time being. Eventually Vaughn gives her a warm smile and grabs his pizza, realizing it is his turn to ask a question.
"Biggest fear."
She swallows the last bite of her slice and looks him straight in the eye.
"Water."
-And I forgot To tell you I loved you And life's to short and Cold here without you-
He stops and again they find them selves just taking in the sight of each other. He knows what it was like to be the one in the water, but he never thought about what it was like on the other side looking in. She shakes her head and continues, grabbing another slice in the process.
"Francie wanted me to go to the beach this weekend to get away, but I would not go. There was no way I was getting into the ocean after what happened. Will understood, he took my place and now Francie is treating it as rehab for the addiction he never had. I think that every shower I have taken since we returned hasn't been longer than three minutes, when normally I'm in there for almost fifteen."
He continues to stare at her, wishing he could make the pain in her voice go away, knowing that he couldn't.
"I tried so hard Vaughn. I knew the glass wouldn't break, I knew it, but I just couldn't let you go like that." Her voice was smaller than a whisper now. "I wouldn't have been able to go on, knowing it was me who . . ."
"No, Sydney, don't say that, don't do that to yourself. I'm here aren't I? You got me out, you saved my life."
-I grieve in my condition For I cannot find the words to say I need you so-
She gives him that smile, and he damns protocol for keeping him away from this woman, for not letting him be there for her every second of every day.
"I wouldn't be able to do this without you, you know that right. I would have quit a long time ago, I would have given up."
"Don't say that, it's not true. You have your friends, your father . . ."
"No. They don't count, Vaughn, and you know that. My friends don't have any idea who I really am and my father, he doesn't know how to be a father. It's you. You're all I have. Without you, none of this would matter to me anymore."
"What about Danny, Syd. Danny is why you do what you do, he is why you're here."
He curses himself for the tinge of jealousy in his voice. How dare he be jealous of a dead man?
"The fuel of revenge only lasts for so long. Danny is what got me into this, and you're who is going to get me out. I will never be able to thank you enough for that."
"You won't have to. You are the most amazing person in the world Syd, and being given the opportunity of knowing you is enough thanks.
She snorts a bit and he gives her a look of amused confusion.
"What?"
"Did you hear that on a movies or something? Because Vaughn, I think that is the first time I have ever heard sound cheesy."
"Come on Syd, what do you expect. I'm not a writer or anything, you can't expect everything I say to be clever."
She looks at him and smiles, remembering how clever he has been in the past. He is just about to grab another slice when she reads his mind and hands one to him.
"What about you?"
He gives her a confused frown.
"What about me?"
"What's your biggest fear?"
He stops for a moment, staring at his pizza, searching for the right words. Finding them somewhere among the pepperonis and olives, he looks into her eyes with a reply that melts her heart.
"Loosing you."
Somehow, she wills the tears from forming in her eyes. Silently she wonders what crime she committed to force this sense of irony upon her. The one man she trusts, the one man she needs, the one man she wants, she cannot have.
"And I know that I shouldn't be saying this to you, that if anyone knew I ever even considered uttering those words, I would immediately be taken off your case. But you know what, I don't really get why. I mean, look at us, look at what we've done. I think it is safe to say that we work pretty damn well together, am I right?"
He looks at her, and she can see the nervous glimmer in his eyes. And she understands. This is not just a question, this is a reassurance. The answer to this question will make his sleepless nights that much harder, but at the same time, that much easier. So she puts on a smile, the one that's just for him, and answers with confidence.
"Absolutely."
And he returns the smile. It could be months, it could be years, but someday they'll be ok. Someday her evil, their evil, will fall. And they're willing to wait.
After taking another moment to take in the site of each other (for those sleepless nights and long missions), both eyes turn towards the pizza box only to find it empty. Suddenly their once radiant smiles become defiant frowns. Because an empty pizza box only means one thing.
"I . . .I better be going, I guess."
"Yeah, it is getting pretty late."
Reluctant to getup, she stares at his shoes, shinny and black. Her eyes eventually make their way past his suit pants, past his white dress shirt, cuffs rolled up and first two buttons undone (as always) and back to his eyes. His beautiful green eyes. She doesn't want to leave. But she knows, they both know, that they can only allude reality for so long. So she hops off the table and grabs her coat.
"This was . . . this was fun, Vaughn. In fact, it was the most fun I have had in a long time."
He smiles at her and nods his head knowingly.
"I'll see you soon Sydney."
-Oh and every time I'm close to you There's to much I can't say And you just walk away-
Once again, they stand there smiling at each other silently hoping for something, anything, to change the way things are at that moment. Realizing that the possibility that either of them will receive a phone call announcing plans to destroy their evil are very slim, she turns on her heels, smile fading, and walks towards her car. Very, very slowly at that. And then she hears him call her name and finds herself spinning back towards his voice at an impossible speed.
"Syd! Syd!"
He has found his way off the table and jogs toward her, stopping not more than a foot away. Stuffing his hands into his pocket, he smiles at the ground, unable to look at her for the moment.
"Yeah?"
"You know that thing that we aren't supposed to talk about? That thing we aren't supposed to feel?"
She nods her head, silently willing him to look her in the eyes. He does.
"Well, I do. Always will."
She can feel her cheeks turn crimson red, and shakes her head at the immature grin tugging at her lips.
"I do too, Michael."
And there it is. She knows, he knows, and without really compromising anything. And it will be enough. Not because they want it to be, not because it has to be, but because it is. The knowing, it's all they've ever needed.
Again she turns and walks away, and this time the smile stays on her face, and remains until she falls asleep that night. For the first time, her dreams are not filled with bloody bathtubs and slamming doors, but with visions of her future . . .with the pizza boy.
-
-
-
***Kudos to anyone how caught my Friends reference! In case you didn't, this piece was kinda sorta inspired by the episode guest staring Charlie Sheen. He plays Phoebes sailor love interest and when he has to ship out, she doesn't want to say I love you because it hurts much. Hence the 'you know that thing we aren't supposed to say' line. I never thought I would ever be able to relate Friends to Alias, but hey, it works.
***I always threw a few 47's in there, because it wouldn't be an Alias fic without the elusive number, now would it?
***Song is Sarah McLachlan- I Love You
***Just a reminder . . .Be sure to review!
-
-
-
-
It was seven o'clock in the evening and Sydney Bristow lay sprawled across her comforter with an open book in her hands. It was a Robert Ludlum novel, she had always been able drown her self in his spy stories because, well, lets just say she could relate. One might think that someone like Sydney would spend her time trying to get away from the life she lead, but the difference between her life and the fictional Jason Bournes is that he was guaranteed a happy ending, something she most certainly was not. And this was the reasoning behind the anticipation she felt with the turn every page, the thrill she was normally given when she found herself predicting his every move to a tee. But not tonight. Tonight was different.
47. She had been lying there for nearly three hours and all she had managed to accomplish was 47 pages. And to tell the truth, she had read page 47 nearly three times and had not retained a word of it. Part of that was probably due to the fact that she hadn't a clue as to what was going on, the plot was still unknown to her and the characters she should have over- analyzed by now were still nameless.
Sighing in defeat she finally shut the book and threw it across the room; allowing it to crash nosily into her dresser mere inches from an empty picture frame. This, of-course, was done purposely; Sydney would never do anything to harm the particular frame. It had not always been empty, up until last night it carried a photo of a beautiful young woman and her daughter. But that photo was no longer in tact, but lie on the ground out back with a bullet hole strategically placed in the woman's arm. She had meant to replace the picture a long time ago, knowing full well that the photograph formally residing in the frame had no business anywhere near something she held so dear to her heart (not to mention whom it was she had received it from), but had never really found the time to do so. Last night, she found the time.
Normally, when someone removes a picture from its frame, another picture soon replaces it. But Sydney was by no means a normal person, and she had purposely left the frame empty. The frame was a reminder to her; the emptiness of it gave her strength. It pushed her harder, because she knew that the picture that belonged in the frame could not even be taken until she had accomplished her goals. It reminded her of the happiness that she might find at the end of the struggle.
Pulling her eyes from the frame she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and couldn't help but laugh. Here she was in her favorite jeans (you know, the ones you wear until there are holes in them and then search for the same pair, because they just look so darn good on you), her favorite white turtleneck (the kind that hugged you in all the right places) and the perfect pair of boots (not to tall, not too short, and the perfect shade of brown); all for the pizza boy.
The pizza boy, the man that knew her inside and out, the only person who even knew half of what she was going through. He had known everything there was to know about her, until now. Because now there was something that she just could not talk to him about. Something that she herself had not even realized until Taipei and that something hit her like a ton of bricks. More like a ton of water. When she got back from hell earlier this week, Francie asked her and Will to take a group vacation, go to a beach somewhere and just relax by the water for week or two. But she would not go. She could not be that close to something that had begun to haunt her dreams. Her worst nightmares used to be of Danny, lifeless and bloody in her bathtub. But now they came in the form of a forceful wave crashing down on the man that meant more than the world to her. And when she woke up after these dreams she was always caked in sweat, tangled in her sheets and on the verge of tears.
Will had graciously offered to go with Francie, suggesting it as an opportunity to help him 'recover' from his 'addiction'. She hopes that Will hates her, even if it is only a little part of him that does. Because if he doesn't, he is an idiot. Because of her, he lost his job and more than a few of his teeth. That is not something a good friend does to you.
She begins to wrestle the idea of ordering some pizza. One part of her begs her not to, tells her that if he really wanted to see her than he would make the call, he knew her number as well as she knew his. But the other part of her says what the hell, he himself said that she could call him when she needed to talk, and she did. Finally, the selfish part of her won out, and she reached for the phone and began to dial her lifeline.
The ringing lasted what seemed like hours, and finally she heard his voice, and surprisingly it sounded more anxious than tired.
"Hello?"
She surpressed a laugh and answered in a bubbly voice.
"Joey's Pizza?"
"I.Uh.wrong number."
She could feel him smiling on the other end.
"Well if you aren't Joey's Pizza, shouldn't you be asleep this time of night?"
"I've had someone on my mind. What about you, what brought on the sudden urge to order pizza so late?"
"Ah.well.you see, I realized that I hadn't had delivery pizza in at least two days and was feeling separation anxiety."
His infectious laugh made her smile widen, it wasn't every day that they shared such meaningless banter.
"Well I am sorry if I couldn't help, but if you don't mind my asking, what exactly was it that you were hoping to order tonight?"
"A medium with everything."
"Good choice. I hope you have better luck with you next call."
"Well that's very nice coming from a complete stranger."
"Maybe I'm just a nice guy."
"Goodnight nice guy."
"Goodnight."
It was amazing how such a pointless conversation could mean so much to two people. Normally, that kind of thing happened daily, but normal people don't meet in clandestine warehouses and underground government offices.
Sydney grabbed her keys and put on her precious pea coat (the kind you splurge on because it isn't often that you find something that not only do you love, but keeps you more than warm) And heads out the door. Glancing in her rearview mirror, she smiles at the sudden change in her demeanor. Her sulky eyes had that sparkle back, and her pout had turned into a wide grin.
It was then that she realized that she could not survive without pizza.
To an outsider, the warehouse would have seemed dark and gloomy, and most definitely not a place someone would look forward to spending their Friday nights in. But as Sydney's wheels crunched to a stop she couldn't help but feel silly for the grin that was growing wider on her face. This warehouse had become so important to her, not long ago she had finally let her self admit the attachment she had formed. Of course, that could very well have something to do with whom it was she met in the warehouse that made her feel so.happy.
She climbed out of her old jeep, not without glancing in the mirror and mentally slapping herself for doing so, and made note of the fact that she had to walk softer. It had become a habit of hers to make as little noise as possible to delay the realization of her arrival. He was always watching her, whether it was over a satellite camera or just yards away hidden in a corner, and it was not often that she could return the favor.
-I have a smile stretched from ear to ear To see you walking down the road We meet at the lights; I stare for a while The world around us dissapears-
As Sydney made her first muffled step onto the solid concrete floors, she was immediately bombarded by the smell of food. Good food, the kind of food that makes you forget your former plans, such as a silent entrance. Quickening her gate, she eventually found herself staring at Vaughn, who was grinning like a Cheshire cat balancing a slice of pizza in his hand. Slowly she walked so she was hovering over a box.
"A medium with everything."
"Its what you ordered, isn't it?"
"I am so lucky to have such an efficient handler."
She smiled and took off her coat, lying it on the nearest crate, then joining him on the table with her own slice.
"And I'm lucky for having an asset with such good taste in pizza."
She laughed and looked over at him, watching with curiosity as he finished his off with nearly three bites.
"Well, someone was hungry."
"Near death can do that to a guy."
Now, in a normal conversation, someone might think of this topic as morbid and would steer as far away from it as possible. But Sydney and Vaughn, who were quite far from normal, burst out in laughter. She handed him another slice.
"Thank you."
"Anything for a 'nice guy'."
Agent Vaughn began to chew on his pizza, not concentrating on just how good it was but instead on the woman sitting next to him. Over the years, he had noticed that most woman were very particular with how they ate. They found it 'embarrassing' to chew any form of food in front of a guy, and with a food that was loaded with everything this practice became tricky. But as Sydney Bristow chewed on her pizza, she showed no inhibition. No hand immediately flew to her face to conceal the fact that she was in fact chewing it, and her bites were not smaller than that of a mouse. She was perfectly content with eating the pizza they way pizza should be eaten, without hesitation.
-Its just you and me on my island of hope A breath between us could be my last Let me surround you, my sea to your shore Let me be the calm you seek-
Suddenly, a frown formed on his face. They had known each other for over a year now, and this was the extent of what he knew about her, outside the fact that she could become anyone she wanted to at a moments notice and proceed to fool anyone she pleased, kicking ass in the process. Hell, they hadn't even shared a meal together! The thought angered him. Sure, it was 'frowned upon' to have a close relationship with your asset, but he and Sydney had pretty much thrown that idea out the window.
"Favorite ice cream."
"Excuse me?"
"I asked you what your favorite ice cream was."
"Sounded like more of a statement to me."
She grinned at her sarcasm, but finally relented to his pleading gaze and finished her last bite, reaching for another piece.
"Butter pecan."
"Favorite food."
"I do believe it's my turn, Agent Vaughn."
"Excuse my rudeness, Agent Bristow, go ahead."
"Favorite TV show."
"Friends. Favorite food?"
"At the moment, I'd have to say pizza. Favorite Friend?"
"Rachel."
She interjected before he had a chance to counter her question.
"Rachel? Your favorite friend is Rachel?"
"You asked a question and I answered it. How about you, favorite friend?"
"Definitely Ross."
"What! You jump on me for Rachel when your favorite is Ross? Come on!"
"Ok, I hate to break it to you pal but Rachel is just not funny at all."
"But..."
"Favorite country?"
"France."
"Really? I have always pinned you as a true blue American."
"Well I wasn't born in America now was I?"
This makes her nearly drop the slice of pizza on her white sweater. She gaps at him in shock.
"You WHAT! I had no idea that you."
"Favorite movie?"
At this question she flushed a bit, looking down at her pizza crust, contemplating weather or not to tell the truth.
"Come on now Miss Bristow, you can't lie to me and you know it."
She smiles at the reality of his comment and after releasing an over- exaggerated sigh she relents.
"Moulin Rouge."
She stopped and waited for his response. But all he gave her was a smile.
"You don't look surprised."
"Should I be?"
"Don't tell me you thought I was a sap."
He laughed at the accusation and shook his head.
"Not a sap, per-say, just a hopeless romantic."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I guess I just pictured you coming home from one of your death- defying missions and curling up in front of the TV to some old classic romance."
"You know me too well Vaughn."
His smile disappeared and he looked deep into her eyes.
"Not even close Syd."
She closes her eyes at the personal sentiment, knowing it rang too true. There were so many things they hadn't shared.
"That was the only thing running through my mind in Taipei. If.if anything would have happened, there is such a big part of you that I don't know. So many things."
-And every time I'm close to you There's too much I can't say And you just walk away-
He stopped, afraid to finish the sentence, not knowing where it would lead the conversation.
"I know."
Silence filled the warehouse as they both stared at their shoes. Sydney was the first to speak up.
"Favorite movie?"
"Mighty ducks."
She laughs at the confidence in his voice at such a childish movie.
"Now I should have been able to guess that one."
"Favorite sport?"
"Well, while I am a hockey fan I'd have to say my favorite is baseball. It *is* Americas pastime. I don't believe I need to ask you the same question."
"Don't get me wrong, I love baseball, but hockey is definitely my favorite. Favorite baseball team?"
"Yankees, without a doubt."
"Really?"
"Yeah, why?"
"I don't know, I just always pictured you as the kind of person to route for the underdogs."
"Well, they weren't always the best you know. Plus, how can you not love a team with Derek Jeter at second."
"You have a *thing* for DJ!"
He looks at her in awe, and she shakes her head with a smile on her face.
"Guilty."
He stares at her and laughs in disbelief.
"What?"
"You don't seem like the kind of girl to have a crush on a baseball player."
"What can I say, the guys cute. What about you, celebrity crush?"
His cheeks flush red and he shakes his head, looking towards the ground.
"Vaughn! Come on! You have to tell me, its part of the game. You can't cheat."
"Fine. Audrey Hepburn."
"Why on earth would you feel the need to keep that from me?"
"I dunno, Weiss always enjoys getting a good laugh out of it."
"Well, I am not Weiss, and I find it . . . endearing."
"Endearing?"
"Well yeah, most guys these days go for the young slutty girls who can't seem to keep their clothes on, a la Brittany Spears."
"I am guessing you wouldn't be surprised to know that was Weiss's answer to the question."
They share a small laugh and Vaughn reaches across her to grab another slice. In the process, he finds himself mere inches from her face. He looks up, shivering from the feeling of her breath on his cheek. They sit for a moment just like that, knowing that's as close as they can be for the time being. Eventually Vaughn gives her a warm smile and grabs his pizza, realizing it is his turn to ask a question.
"Biggest fear."
She swallows the last bite of her slice and looks him straight in the eye.
"Water."
-And I forgot To tell you I loved you And life's to short and Cold here without you-
He stops and again they find them selves just taking in the sight of each other. He knows what it was like to be the one in the water, but he never thought about what it was like on the other side looking in. She shakes her head and continues, grabbing another slice in the process.
"Francie wanted me to go to the beach this weekend to get away, but I would not go. There was no way I was getting into the ocean after what happened. Will understood, he took my place and now Francie is treating it as rehab for the addiction he never had. I think that every shower I have taken since we returned hasn't been longer than three minutes, when normally I'm in there for almost fifteen."
He continues to stare at her, wishing he could make the pain in her voice go away, knowing that he couldn't.
"I tried so hard Vaughn. I knew the glass wouldn't break, I knew it, but I just couldn't let you go like that." Her voice was smaller than a whisper now. "I wouldn't have been able to go on, knowing it was me who . . ."
"No, Sydney, don't say that, don't do that to yourself. I'm here aren't I? You got me out, you saved my life."
-I grieve in my condition For I cannot find the words to say I need you so-
She gives him that smile, and he damns protocol for keeping him away from this woman, for not letting him be there for her every second of every day.
"I wouldn't be able to do this without you, you know that right. I would have quit a long time ago, I would have given up."
"Don't say that, it's not true. You have your friends, your father . . ."
"No. They don't count, Vaughn, and you know that. My friends don't have any idea who I really am and my father, he doesn't know how to be a father. It's you. You're all I have. Without you, none of this would matter to me anymore."
"What about Danny, Syd. Danny is why you do what you do, he is why you're here."
He curses himself for the tinge of jealousy in his voice. How dare he be jealous of a dead man?
"The fuel of revenge only lasts for so long. Danny is what got me into this, and you're who is going to get me out. I will never be able to thank you enough for that."
"You won't have to. You are the most amazing person in the world Syd, and being given the opportunity of knowing you is enough thanks.
She snorts a bit and he gives her a look of amused confusion.
"What?"
"Did you hear that on a movies or something? Because Vaughn, I think that is the first time I have ever heard sound cheesy."
"Come on Syd, what do you expect. I'm not a writer or anything, you can't expect everything I say to be clever."
She looks at him and smiles, remembering how clever he has been in the past. He is just about to grab another slice when she reads his mind and hands one to him.
"What about you?"
He gives her a confused frown.
"What about me?"
"What's your biggest fear?"
He stops for a moment, staring at his pizza, searching for the right words. Finding them somewhere among the pepperonis and olives, he looks into her eyes with a reply that melts her heart.
"Loosing you."
Somehow, she wills the tears from forming in her eyes. Silently she wonders what crime she committed to force this sense of irony upon her. The one man she trusts, the one man she needs, the one man she wants, she cannot have.
"And I know that I shouldn't be saying this to you, that if anyone knew I ever even considered uttering those words, I would immediately be taken off your case. But you know what, I don't really get why. I mean, look at us, look at what we've done. I think it is safe to say that we work pretty damn well together, am I right?"
He looks at her, and she can see the nervous glimmer in his eyes. And she understands. This is not just a question, this is a reassurance. The answer to this question will make his sleepless nights that much harder, but at the same time, that much easier. So she puts on a smile, the one that's just for him, and answers with confidence.
"Absolutely."
And he returns the smile. It could be months, it could be years, but someday they'll be ok. Someday her evil, their evil, will fall. And they're willing to wait.
After taking another moment to take in the site of each other (for those sleepless nights and long missions), both eyes turn towards the pizza box only to find it empty. Suddenly their once radiant smiles become defiant frowns. Because an empty pizza box only means one thing.
"I . . .I better be going, I guess."
"Yeah, it is getting pretty late."
Reluctant to getup, she stares at his shoes, shinny and black. Her eyes eventually make their way past his suit pants, past his white dress shirt, cuffs rolled up and first two buttons undone (as always) and back to his eyes. His beautiful green eyes. She doesn't want to leave. But she knows, they both know, that they can only allude reality for so long. So she hops off the table and grabs her coat.
"This was . . . this was fun, Vaughn. In fact, it was the most fun I have had in a long time."
He smiles at her and nods his head knowingly.
"I'll see you soon Sydney."
-Oh and every time I'm close to you There's to much I can't say And you just walk away-
Once again, they stand there smiling at each other silently hoping for something, anything, to change the way things are at that moment. Realizing that the possibility that either of them will receive a phone call announcing plans to destroy their evil are very slim, she turns on her heels, smile fading, and walks towards her car. Very, very slowly at that. And then she hears him call her name and finds herself spinning back towards his voice at an impossible speed.
"Syd! Syd!"
He has found his way off the table and jogs toward her, stopping not more than a foot away. Stuffing his hands into his pocket, he smiles at the ground, unable to look at her for the moment.
"Yeah?"
"You know that thing that we aren't supposed to talk about? That thing we aren't supposed to feel?"
She nods her head, silently willing him to look her in the eyes. He does.
"Well, I do. Always will."
She can feel her cheeks turn crimson red, and shakes her head at the immature grin tugging at her lips.
"I do too, Michael."
And there it is. She knows, he knows, and without really compromising anything. And it will be enough. Not because they want it to be, not because it has to be, but because it is. The knowing, it's all they've ever needed.
Again she turns and walks away, and this time the smile stays on her face, and remains until she falls asleep that night. For the first time, her dreams are not filled with bloody bathtubs and slamming doors, but with visions of her future . . .with the pizza boy.
-
-
-
***Kudos to anyone how caught my Friends reference! In case you didn't, this piece was kinda sorta inspired by the episode guest staring Charlie Sheen. He plays Phoebes sailor love interest and when he has to ship out, she doesn't want to say I love you because it hurts much. Hence the 'you know that thing we aren't supposed to say' line. I never thought I would ever be able to relate Friends to Alias, but hey, it works.
***I always threw a few 47's in there, because it wouldn't be an Alias fic without the elusive number, now would it?
***Song is Sarah McLachlan- I Love You
***Just a reminder . . .Be sure to review!