Author: Kityye
Summary: Instead of Counseling, Sydney has to keep a journal. This chapter is on Julia.
AN: Three or four bad words. Sydney has a dirty mouth! I'm sorry I didn't update earlier – I tried to give you better quality to make up for its lateness.
Disclaimer: I do not own them.
Spoilers: Season 3, Episode 4
~:~:~:~
10/19/03
"Julia. He said Julia before he died." I knew it, recognized it, wasn't surprised when the name slipped comfortably off of Simon Walker's lips right before he devoured me from the inside out. The alias sparked memory of a certain posture. Julia was dark, seductive, and deceptive. She drawled her words lazily. She was confident to the point of danger. She was a murderer. She wanted back into the game. It was like following in the trail of an evil twin. The genes are the same in me as they are in Julia; I just had to release them to act like her. I added an extra sashay in my hips as we left.
The game… seven minutes for a necklace. It felt right, it felt perfect, and it felt excellent to be back. The perfect mix of danger and adrenaline and self assurance that is my high helped. Walker knew it was my strength, this breaking and entering under pressure. Cocky bastard.
Too cocky. I played Simon Walker well. I didn't think of Vaughn and Weiss listening to my words from their van. They heard the double-meaning in the seductive questions I asked. Walker didn't know me long, or else he would have heard it too. Maybe he was distracted by our foreplay. His body was familiar to me. (Why did I have sex with somebody not Vaughn?! Shit, what drugs did they use on me?!)
Algeria. I improvised the part about not being able to keep our hands off each other, hoping he wasn't trying to trick me. Hell, I was distracted by our foreplay or I would have read him and known he was going to pull a stunt on me. I thought he'd caught me by my words when he flipped me over and pulled out that knife. I couldn't think of a way out.
Instead, he pulled out that picture of Vaughn. I told him the truth and trusted the safety net. Thank God for Marshall, who filled me in before I left, and got that record on Vaughn up fast.
Sark is in on it. I can follow him and find the goods, if I have to.
The job was easy. We never met anyone, beyond that first guard. Even the lock was easy… I finished with one second to spare. It was easier than the lock in SD-6, back when Dad and I were trying to rescue the place from the insane guy who cut off Sloane's finger, not that Sloane didn't deserve it.
How Vaughn got himself caught, I don't know. I thought up a story to get him off, but there was no way to tell it to him, and he would have had to tell it to Walker to make it convincing. All Vaughn would have had to do was claim that the CIA stuff was stolen, or sold to him, or something. Instead of using his brain, though, all Vaughn did was beg me with puppy-dog eyes to save him.
They wanted to kill Vaughn; it was easy to get Walker to let me do the job. Julia took the knife from Perez; Julia told Vaughn he never should have betrayed her. Sydney used slight-of-hand to make it a flesh wound – in the dark it was easy; Sydney left the tracing device on his clothing. Simon kicked him down the mountainside. Facing the dark, where no one could see me, I felt my eyebrows draw together in worry. I hoped that the CIA figured out my ploy and picked him up fast, so he didn't bleed to death. And then, Julia turned back to the men and got in the jeep without a backwards glance.
Summary: Instead of Counseling, Sydney has to keep a journal. This chapter is on Julia.
AN: Three or four bad words. Sydney has a dirty mouth! I'm sorry I didn't update earlier – I tried to give you better quality to make up for its lateness.
Disclaimer: I do not own them.
Spoilers: Season 3, Episode 4
~:~:~:~
10/19/03
"Julia. He said Julia before he died." I knew it, recognized it, wasn't surprised when the name slipped comfortably off of Simon Walker's lips right before he devoured me from the inside out. The alias sparked memory of a certain posture. Julia was dark, seductive, and deceptive. She drawled her words lazily. She was confident to the point of danger. She was a murderer. She wanted back into the game. It was like following in the trail of an evil twin. The genes are the same in me as they are in Julia; I just had to release them to act like her. I added an extra sashay in my hips as we left.
The game… seven minutes for a necklace. It felt right, it felt perfect, and it felt excellent to be back. The perfect mix of danger and adrenaline and self assurance that is my high helped. Walker knew it was my strength, this breaking and entering under pressure. Cocky bastard.
Too cocky. I played Simon Walker well. I didn't think of Vaughn and Weiss listening to my words from their van. They heard the double-meaning in the seductive questions I asked. Walker didn't know me long, or else he would have heard it too. Maybe he was distracted by our foreplay. His body was familiar to me. (Why did I have sex with somebody not Vaughn?! Shit, what drugs did they use on me?!)
Algeria. I improvised the part about not being able to keep our hands off each other, hoping he wasn't trying to trick me. Hell, I was distracted by our foreplay or I would have read him and known he was going to pull a stunt on me. I thought he'd caught me by my words when he flipped me over and pulled out that knife. I couldn't think of a way out.
Instead, he pulled out that picture of Vaughn. I told him the truth and trusted the safety net. Thank God for Marshall, who filled me in before I left, and got that record on Vaughn up fast.
Sark is in on it. I can follow him and find the goods, if I have to.
The job was easy. We never met anyone, beyond that first guard. Even the lock was easy… I finished with one second to spare. It was easier than the lock in SD-6, back when Dad and I were trying to rescue the place from the insane guy who cut off Sloane's finger, not that Sloane didn't deserve it.
How Vaughn got himself caught, I don't know. I thought up a story to get him off, but there was no way to tell it to him, and he would have had to tell it to Walker to make it convincing. All Vaughn would have had to do was claim that the CIA stuff was stolen, or sold to him, or something. Instead of using his brain, though, all Vaughn did was beg me with puppy-dog eyes to save him.
They wanted to kill Vaughn; it was easy to get Walker to let me do the job. Julia took the knife from Perez; Julia told Vaughn he never should have betrayed her. Sydney used slight-of-hand to make it a flesh wound – in the dark it was easy; Sydney left the tracing device on his clothing. Simon kicked him down the mountainside. Facing the dark, where no one could see me, I felt my eyebrows draw together in worry. I hoped that the CIA figured out my ploy and picked him up fast, so he didn't bleed to death. And then, Julia turned back to the men and got in the jeep without a backwards glance.