Burgundy-
As Sydney Bristow stood in line to get through security at LAX, she didn't know that Michael Vaughn was speeding across the freeway after hijacking an ambulance.
As tears slid down her pale cheek, she didn't know that he had jumped out of the moving ambulance just in front of the airport doors.
As she passed through the metal detector, she didn't see him run to the other security check.
-
The woman working the x-ray machine was sympathetic. She told her that it would all be okay and—judging by Sydney's sleek, curve-hugging business suit that it had been a man who had moved her to tears—that he would rot in hell for leaving her.
"Thank you," she managed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, thinking that the other woman knew nothing of what really happened. A chocolate brown curl fell and blocked her vision, shocking her before she remembered that she had curled it for him.
For him. How many of her actions are for him? How many of her thoughts are of him? How many times has she seen a couple walk past her and wish she was with him? He was the past.
His marriage to Alice had been expected. After dating for years and living together for months, there wasn't much less expected of their relationship. Sydney had always hoped his torch for her would cause him to brush Alice aside, come to Sydney to tell her that she was the only woman for him. But that sort of thing only happened in sappy movies and romance novels.
Wasn't her life like a sappy movie already? Woman living a double life within a double life after her fiancé is killed, but ever attracted to her new superior. All she needed was a bit of dramatic orchestral music and some rain, and it'd be a feature film.
She pulled her small black carry-on behind her. It bounced as the ground changed from linoleum to carpet. After spending too much time sitting in her bathtub staring at the wall opposite her, she had remembered that she had a mission. Frantically packing, throwing on one of her own suits, she had made it to the airport just in time to miss her flight. The next, ironically, was twenty minutes later, causing Sydney to seriously wonder exactly how many people flew to South Africa on a daily basis. But she had had enough time to wait ten minutes in a line for the security check.
And she discovered that ten minutes was just enough to reevaulate her entire situation and realize that she and Michael Vaughn had no chance of ever acting on their love for one another. The dance had been anything but harmless; both had felt the intense heat of one another. She only wished—
She fell on a chair located in some random gate. She only wished she had kissed him. A tear drifted past her blinking eyelids, and another soon followed. Oh god how she wished she had kissed him and held him and kept him from—
No. She sat up straighter and blinked the last of the tears out before roughly wiping them away, forgetting about her mascara. Vaughn had chosen to marry Alice, not Sydney. But it wasn't like that was even a possbility. She contemplated ruining the wedding and bursting through the doors as the priest said to "speak now or forever hold your peace." She knew that she couldn't hold her peace for a second, much less eternity. There was nothing left but to hold her head high and complete the mission in South Africa and return to the warehouse, discs in hand. And pretend like nothing had ever happened between them.
-
Vaughn pushed past people, searching for her face. For the second time that day, he was running on adrenaline and it was because of her.
Angry voices exclaimed, his cell phone rang incessantly, but he kept running, hoping he would find a trace of her somewhere in the entire airport. Did he really think she was there? No. But the something inside that he knew was a connection between them told him that this was where she was.
The echoes of his footsteps were all he could hear through the tumult of the airport. The white carnation in his lapel fell off, and he left it, along with his time spent with Alice.
He had figured it out when he had jumped out of the ambulance. The love he had for Sydney was too dangerous to live for, but too addictive to live without. He knew that she felt the same way. Why else would she appear to only him dressed in that gorgeous burgundy with her hair in those curls that made him stop thinking? She knew.
But right now, the only thing he could think of was her (when wasn't it?) and finding her and rescuing her from whatever horror she was going through.
As Sydney Bristow stood in line to get through security at LAX, she didn't know that Michael Vaughn was speeding across the freeway after hijacking an ambulance.
As tears slid down her pale cheek, she didn't know that he had jumped out of the moving ambulance just in front of the airport doors.
As she passed through the metal detector, she didn't see him run to the other security check.
-
The woman working the x-ray machine was sympathetic. She told her that it would all be okay and—judging by Sydney's sleek, curve-hugging business suit that it had been a man who had moved her to tears—that he would rot in hell for leaving her.
"Thank you," she managed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, thinking that the other woman knew nothing of what really happened. A chocolate brown curl fell and blocked her vision, shocking her before she remembered that she had curled it for him.
For him. How many of her actions are for him? How many of her thoughts are of him? How many times has she seen a couple walk past her and wish she was with him? He was the past.
His marriage to Alice had been expected. After dating for years and living together for months, there wasn't much less expected of their relationship. Sydney had always hoped his torch for her would cause him to brush Alice aside, come to Sydney to tell her that she was the only woman for him. But that sort of thing only happened in sappy movies and romance novels.
Wasn't her life like a sappy movie already? Woman living a double life within a double life after her fiancé is killed, but ever attracted to her new superior. All she needed was a bit of dramatic orchestral music and some rain, and it'd be a feature film.
She pulled her small black carry-on behind her. It bounced as the ground changed from linoleum to carpet. After spending too much time sitting in her bathtub staring at the wall opposite her, she had remembered that she had a mission. Frantically packing, throwing on one of her own suits, she had made it to the airport just in time to miss her flight. The next, ironically, was twenty minutes later, causing Sydney to seriously wonder exactly how many people flew to South Africa on a daily basis. But she had had enough time to wait ten minutes in a line for the security check.
And she discovered that ten minutes was just enough to reevaulate her entire situation and realize that she and Michael Vaughn had no chance of ever acting on their love for one another. The dance had been anything but harmless; both had felt the intense heat of one another. She only wished—
She fell on a chair located in some random gate. She only wished she had kissed him. A tear drifted past her blinking eyelids, and another soon followed. Oh god how she wished she had kissed him and held him and kept him from—
No. She sat up straighter and blinked the last of the tears out before roughly wiping them away, forgetting about her mascara. Vaughn had chosen to marry Alice, not Sydney. But it wasn't like that was even a possbility. She contemplated ruining the wedding and bursting through the doors as the priest said to "speak now or forever hold your peace." She knew that she couldn't hold her peace for a second, much less eternity. There was nothing left but to hold her head high and complete the mission in South Africa and return to the warehouse, discs in hand. And pretend like nothing had ever happened between them.
-
Vaughn pushed past people, searching for her face. For the second time that day, he was running on adrenaline and it was because of her.
Angry voices exclaimed, his cell phone rang incessantly, but he kept running, hoping he would find a trace of her somewhere in the entire airport. Did he really think she was there? No. But the something inside that he knew was a connection between them told him that this was where she was.
The echoes of his footsteps were all he could hear through the tumult of the airport. The white carnation in his lapel fell off, and he left it, along with his time spent with Alice.
He had figured it out when he had jumped out of the ambulance. The love he had for Sydney was too dangerous to live for, but too addictive to live without. He knew that she felt the same way. Why else would she appear to only him dressed in that gorgeous burgundy with her hair in those curls that made him stop thinking? She knew.
But right now, the only thing he could think of was her (when wasn't it?) and finding her and rescuing her from whatever horror she was going through.
