Author: Kityye
Summary: Instead of counseling, Sydney has to keep a journal. This chapter is on Lauren.
Disclaimer: Still don't own them
Spoilers: Season 3, Episode 3
~:~:~:~
10/12/03
Nothing I think is right is correct and everything I think is wrong is what they tell me is right. Vaughn with Lauren is definitely a wrong in my book, but Weiss insists they're a right. Sloane is such a big wrong that I'm shocked everyone is able to work with him. I was all for letting the CIA run their tests and give me their drugs – I'm surprised they already haven't! – but Dad won't let me. Trying old techniques to follow Sark so obviously won't work, but apparently Sark doesn't remember basic procedures and Dixon was right in that case. Heck, Marshall told me the music I listened to was wrong, even though he was sweet about it, and just trying to help me.
I don't feel anything when I think of Lauren. Vague curiosity. When I think of Lauren and Vaughn, then I feel jealousy. In our meeting, we argued, but I think I would have argued anyone with that viewpoint. So, inconclusive.
When she came to me on the plane, with that peace offering about hate… she was right. I didn't realize that we *could* hate each other, but I understand it. And, I told her the truth – I don't hate her. I wanted to know everything about her, but I didn't hate her. I'm far more angry with Vaughn than anybody else; *HE* should have known better. I don't even hate him; I love him.
I think Lauren and I are equals now. She convinced me she was okay in how she worries about him, how she trusts him around me. I think I surprised her when I blurted the truth about how I don't hate her. We have an uneasy truce, anyway.
Vaughn is trying to make it easier on me. He barely touches her when she's around. The tension is always thick enough to cut away with a knife. He didn't even relax on the mission, in Moscow.
I went to get us glasses of champagne, for no good reason other than semblance of normalcy. I thanked the waiter, and took the last two on the tray. Then, I looked back at Vaughn. I smiled as I remembered other times we'd gotten dressed up on missions… and then our first date, which involved nice clothing and guns… and then our first kiss amidst the ruins of SD-6… and hockey games played in heavy sweatshirts and jeans. I nearly laughed aloud at the contrast. Vaughn, meanwhile, was giving me a strange mix of looks – unsure, faintly amused, maybe a bit of drooling. He didn't know what I was thinking. Because… before my adrenaline got pumping and we were off to steal Medusa… I was preparing to let him go.
We do work well together, because we forget everything except what we're doing. Well, I do, anyway. He trusts me, and I trust him. Outside, there was only the one look of relief, and then back to business.
I detangled our souls. Yes, I know he'd already taken his back, but I was clinging to the shell, and I finally gave it away. His wife would keep him safe through the night, now, not me. I only get him on missions. "Goodnight. I'll see you tomorrow." It was normal, yet it hurt so much because with my goodnight, I meant goodbye.
As I walked back to my desk, I tried not to cry. All those wrongs that are really rights aren't really rights; they are just screwed up wrongs that nobody but me seems to be able to see. But, I'm trying to adjust my position on that.
~:~:~:~
AN: Hint, hint: reviews are a good thing!
Summary: Instead of counseling, Sydney has to keep a journal. This chapter is on Lauren.
Disclaimer: Still don't own them
Spoilers: Season 3, Episode 3
~:~:~:~
10/12/03
Nothing I think is right is correct and everything I think is wrong is what they tell me is right. Vaughn with Lauren is definitely a wrong in my book, but Weiss insists they're a right. Sloane is such a big wrong that I'm shocked everyone is able to work with him. I was all for letting the CIA run their tests and give me their drugs – I'm surprised they already haven't! – but Dad won't let me. Trying old techniques to follow Sark so obviously won't work, but apparently Sark doesn't remember basic procedures and Dixon was right in that case. Heck, Marshall told me the music I listened to was wrong, even though he was sweet about it, and just trying to help me.
I don't feel anything when I think of Lauren. Vague curiosity. When I think of Lauren and Vaughn, then I feel jealousy. In our meeting, we argued, but I think I would have argued anyone with that viewpoint. So, inconclusive.
When she came to me on the plane, with that peace offering about hate… she was right. I didn't realize that we *could* hate each other, but I understand it. And, I told her the truth – I don't hate her. I wanted to know everything about her, but I didn't hate her. I'm far more angry with Vaughn than anybody else; *HE* should have known better. I don't even hate him; I love him.
I think Lauren and I are equals now. She convinced me she was okay in how she worries about him, how she trusts him around me. I think I surprised her when I blurted the truth about how I don't hate her. We have an uneasy truce, anyway.
Vaughn is trying to make it easier on me. He barely touches her when she's around. The tension is always thick enough to cut away with a knife. He didn't even relax on the mission, in Moscow.
I went to get us glasses of champagne, for no good reason other than semblance of normalcy. I thanked the waiter, and took the last two on the tray. Then, I looked back at Vaughn. I smiled as I remembered other times we'd gotten dressed up on missions… and then our first date, which involved nice clothing and guns… and then our first kiss amidst the ruins of SD-6… and hockey games played in heavy sweatshirts and jeans. I nearly laughed aloud at the contrast. Vaughn, meanwhile, was giving me a strange mix of looks – unsure, faintly amused, maybe a bit of drooling. He didn't know what I was thinking. Because… before my adrenaline got pumping and we were off to steal Medusa… I was preparing to let him go.
We do work well together, because we forget everything except what we're doing. Well, I do, anyway. He trusts me, and I trust him. Outside, there was only the one look of relief, and then back to business.
I detangled our souls. Yes, I know he'd already taken his back, but I was clinging to the shell, and I finally gave it away. His wife would keep him safe through the night, now, not me. I only get him on missions. "Goodnight. I'll see you tomorrow." It was normal, yet it hurt so much because with my goodnight, I meant goodbye.
As I walked back to my desk, I tried not to cry. All those wrongs that are really rights aren't really rights; they are just screwed up wrongs that nobody but me seems to be able to see. But, I'm trying to adjust my position on that.
~:~:~:~
AN: Hint, hint: reviews are a good thing!