Title: Captured Moments: 12 Days of Christmas
Author: Kira [kira at sd-1 dot com]
Genre: Romance/Fluff
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: We all know the drill. I don't own Alias, so please don't sue me. I'm already in debt. And even if you did sue me, it would come off my credit card and I'd still be in debt. So, right. You're better off leaving me be.

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Part Four: Four Calling Birds

On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me:
4 Calling Birds
3 French Hens
2 Turtle Doves
and a Partridge in a Pear Tree


Sometimes I feel like my childhood was shorter than it should have, that, like an alien, I grew faster and reached maturity at a multiplied rate. Literally, I did, my mother's death shooting me from a five year old happy girl with lace dresses and dolls to a mature girl who packed her own lunch and checked in on her father on the nights he was home. I never had the large family parties; no one celebrated the milestone of my 16th birthday and the ability to drive on my own. I'd taken the bus to the DMV and gotten it myself, my handwriting sharp and clear on the paperwork.

I lived envious of others with their smiling families. My father never came to the events and plays I was in during high school, never paid attention to my report card or scholastic achievements. I was alone, an island isolated from the world.

So, I hadn't been skating for years. The one time at the rink barely counted, I'd been called away before ten minutes had passed and had only just found my footing. It was amazing how easily things came to me, and skating wasn't any different.

But Vaughn, wow. He was like a bird on the ice, skating and spinning like he'd been born with skates instead of feet. In the time it took me to lace the beat up rentals, the dark grey skin on them scuffed and scratched, he'd rounded the rink at least three times, huge grin on his face as he weaved in and out of slower skaters with ease.

"Hey!" he grinned, skidding to a stop just in front of me. Ice shavings sprayed off onto the black rubber as he stepped onto it and towered over me. "You've got to get out there, it's awesome."

I laughed and finished double tying the laces, peering up at him through my lashes. His face was windblown, his cheeks red and rosy as he sniffled and rubbed the bottom of his nose with his hand.

"You're like speed racer out there," I commented, standing. I wobbled a bit, ankles taking a moment to get used to the blades, Vaughn's arm shooting out to steady me, as cold as ice.

"Yeah, well, I've got a bit of practice," he grinned sheepishly. "Ready?"

I nodded, my hand slipping easily into his. He pulled on it slightly, leading me to the ice. My ankles buckle a bit, but I easily fell into the swing of things, slowly circling the ice hand in hand with my boyfriend. Scenes from countless romantic comedies pour into my head; never once had I believed I'd actually be able to act one of them out.

My own fairy tale.

The Brothers Grimm always had grotesque villains and complicated, depressing storylines. I'd like to think my own life is that kind of fairy tale, and I've come through to the happy ending. Girls can take their fluffy tales of a prince in shining armor and a white horse. I'll take my sleep-deprived government employee any day.

I frowned. Wasn't there one final confrontation with the evil villain at the end of their tales? Right when life was perfect and happy? He or she would show up out of the blue and throw life off-balance for one last fight. And didn't someone die in their tales?

"What's wrong?"

I looked up at Vaughn, his gaze set on me and not where we're going, yet still able to guide us around the curve of the ice rink without a hitch.

"Sometimes I wonder if this is too good to last," I confessed. "You know what they say, 'too good to be true.' I've wanted to be normal for so long, I don't even know how to feel."

"Tell me something," he said. "What is everyone else doing?"

I glanced around the rink quickly, taking in the happy couples and laughing children. No one's sad or worried, their thoughts aren't on unfinished projects at work or hanging deadlines. The bills were tucked away home in desk drawers and organizers and money wasn't an issue.

"They're all doing the same thing as us," he supplied, swirling around to skate backwards, hands holding mine. Our speed slowed, the part of me constantly craving adrenaline saddened by the change in pace. "Normal people doing normal things, right?"

I nodded dumbly.

"I'd think that anyone walking by would think we're just as normal as them," he continued, grinning as he swerved around a family of four. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"Yeah…"

"Good. Normality's a state of mind, anyway," he said cryptically. "Like sane. Or ordinary. Or good. At…things." It was obvious he had a strong starting point but had lost it by the time he'd reached the end, his brow furrowing as he attempted to pick it up again. Of course, he wasn't paying attention to where he was going, his mind deep in thought as he idly skated backwards, and I was amazed we didn't run into anyone.

Then the curve came.

"Vaughn!" I cried, but too late. He snapped back to reality just in time to barrel into the scarred white wall of the rink, sliding down onto the ice with the grace that comes with years and years of ice-related accidents. I ran right into him, falling practically atop him at the crook of the curve, hands splashed on either side of him. The ice bit into them, and I yelped before jumping, hands now resting flat on his chest.

"Oh my God, are you all right?"

He laughed and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Just my pride," he replied. "What about you?"

"Fine. I've had worse, really."

"I believe it," he remarked, sliding up into a sitting position. I found myself straddling his legs, knees digging into the ice.

"What about you?"

"Hrm?" His lips pursed into a flat line on his frost-tinted face.

"Oh, c'mon, Vaughn, I'm sure you've gotten hurt while skating before."

He blushed and shifted, hands unaffected by the freezing slab of ice. He pushed up on them, expecting me to move and allow him to get up, but I stayed still, head cocked to the side as I awaited an answer.

"Syd, I'm freezing here," he practically whined. I found it strange, and slightly appealing, his mood shift. At work, he could be precise, to the point, demanding and closed off. His patriotism was worn on his sleeve, displayed for all to see and take at face value. He wore it like a badge of honor, some selfish fact of elitism he carried with him in the same pocket as the memories of his dead father. It was this persona I fell in love with, the shining moments of truth and humor he allowed me to see only sealing the deal.

Here, now, sitting on an ice rink in downtown Los Angeles was something I cherished. Him. Perfect and open. His heart sat over his armband of patriotism, his face always cheerful and grinning. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders and he was ready to spend all his waking moments working on making me content and happy. It was for that reason I knew I could trust him. Depend on him in my moments of need without worrying about the repercussions.

I put on a pouting face and slid my hands down to rest on his thighs. I could trust him to the ends of the earth, but didn't know much about him past what small bits of his past shot through his shield. It was unfair. Totally unfair. He probably had a file five inches thick on me in his office and I had a few measly scraps.

"I'm not the most coordinated person, Syd," he responded, rubbing the bottom of his nose. "Why do you think I'm stuck behind a desk most of the time?"

"You seem fine in the field," I frowned, confused.

"It's just because I have the best field agent in fifteen years as my back up," he laughed. "I've had lots of accidents on the ice. Let's just leave it at that."

And he tried to get up again. Won't this man ever learn?

"Why do you say you're not coordinated?"

He sighed and ran a hand down his face, frustrated. Wait a second –

"You're just saying that so I'll let you up!"

Vaughn gave a 'who, me?' look of innocence and held up his hands in surrender, palms red from sitting on the ice for so long. I playfully punched him in the chest and pushed myself up in one motion, skating backwards a bit and narrowing a collision with a small boy who obviously had more experience on the ice than me. Vaughn used the gray marked white wall to push himself up, giving a low whistle when he saw the damage to the temporary barrier our run-in had caused. With more confidence than before, I skated up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Smooth, Agent Vaughn," I whispered in his ear. He turned slightly, giving the slight smile that alluded to something bigger going on in his head.

"I'm an icicle."

"Who's fault is that?"

"Yours."

Did he just blame me? He just blamed me, didn't he.

"Uh-uh."

"There was this one time," he started, hand snaking up to grip the one I'd laid on his shoulder. "When I couldn't really skate. I'd been climbing trees with friends, trying to find the best one for a tree house. My dad had promised to build us one when he came home next."

He paused and pulled on my hand, bringing us back into the steady flow of traffic lethargically circling an oval center where children danced and played on narrow skates. Our hands were cold, unprepared for the low temperatures radiating off the slab of artificial ice, but I tightened my grip on his, feeling the warmth return to my stiff fingers as he squeezed it back.

"You're doing better," he commented.

"I've had a great teacher. Are you going to finish your story?"

"What? Oh."

"It's fine. I'm freezing, anyway," I replied quickly, noticing his crestfallen expression. We were out to have fun, to enjoy each other's company under the glow of the holiday spirit. To be normal for a night, and there was no way I was ruining that with my pestering curiosity.

I tugged on his hand, leading him away from the swaying traffic to the break in the wall leading to a rubber landing and benches. And our shoes. He was reluctant at first, and I felt that the ice was just as liberating to him as a nice bubble bath was to me, but laughed at that mental picture. Apparently, we were more alike that I'd thought, and he eventually followed my lead off the ice.

"I broke my leg," he said suddenly as I fell onto the bench, exhausted. My ankles were going to be burning the next day, that was for sure, years of stilettos unable to prepare them to cope with the twenty minutes of ice acrobatics I'd just performed. I looked up to him, following him with my eyes as he sat and began unlacing his skates.

"Fell straight out of the tree. Nearly gave my mother a heart attack. My dad built the tree house but I couldn't go up in it for 6 weeks. It was torture, seeing it outside my window and not being able to go play. So, I convinced my dad I was feeling good enough to skate in some, I don't know, kid-logic to let me climb into the tree house with my friends."

"Let me guess, you weren't exactly a star on the ice?" I asked, grinning. He slipped his feet into still shined dress shoes and bent down to help me untangle my laces.

"No," he laughed, "I wasn't. Complete lack of coordination, and I broke down crying after five minutes." He fumbled with my laces as I tried to untie them myself.

"I can untie my own skates," I growled lightly, pushing his hands aside.

"Yeah, I'm sure you can. But if we want to get something to drink before the end of the night?"

I playfully swatted his arm. "Did you get to play in the tree house?"

"No. The skating set me back. By the time I was healed, school had stared."

"That's too bad," I smirked, moving my attention to my other skate, leaving him to unlace the left one and pull it off my foot.

"Yeah," he muttered. He was quiet, and I let him finish untying the skate and slip it off my foot. I fully anticipated him slipping my gym shoes back on and become my Prince Charming through a reenactment of Cinderella. Instead, he patted my knees and threw the guarded and tied together skates over his shoulder. "I'm going to go put these in the car. Meet you in the Starbucks?"

I tried to hide my disappointment as he motioned to the corner cafe and set off for the car, leaving me to put my shoes alone without a prince to slip the glass slipper on and whisk me away to his castle. He disappeared around the corner, and I felt the temperature drop a few degrees with his absence. Pulling my coat tighter around me, I headed across the park to the Starbucks, eyes scanning the crowd unconsciously. I felt unusually exposed walking in downtown LA alone, the moment of normality and forgetfulness left behind on the rink.

I tossed a look at it over my shoulder, the people still skating around, colorful scarves swaying in their own artificial wind as smiling faces sped around. Once again it was the scene in a film, and I, a simple viewer. Sighing, I grasped the handle to the cafe and yanked it toward me, resigned to sit alone and wait.

And how bored was I? Leaning my head on my hand, I stared out the window with half-open eyes, mesmerized by a family struggling to get skates on their youngest child who looked more than a little frightened of the ice.

"Cinnamon, right?" A voice purred in my ear like liquid chocolate. My eyes widened as I turned. Had I been so completely wrapped up in watching the skaters across the way that I hadn't heard anyone else enter the cafe?

Apparently, I had, because standing over me was Vaughn holding two tall, no, grande hot chocolates. At least I was assuming so when I took the one he was holding out to me and gave it a try. Ah, yes, it was. Complete with the cinnamon addition I loved so much, the taste reminding me of baking gingerbread men with my mother at Christmas when I was little. The cup warmed my hands as Vaughn sat down across from me and drank his own.

"Let me guess, soy milk?" I mocked. He gave a fake laugh.

"Haha. Very funny."

"I call 'em as I see 'em. Weiss was right - you really are an easy target."

"Trading gossip with the best and brightest, I see," he smoothly retorted, taking a sip of his own. "And no, it's a plain hot chocolate with extra whipped cream."

"Hallelujah," I grinned. He raised an eyebrow.

"Questioning my masculinity? I'm wounded, Syd. My pride's still recovering from falling on the ice."

"It was kinda funny."

"Thanks," he replied dryly. "How's it going?"

"Hrm? Fine. Why?"

"You always wanted to be normal," he replied. "I just…I'm trying my best. I haven't exactly had the most normal life, but I've been closer than you. It is Christmastime, after all, and if you can't get your wishes now, when can you?"

I swear, I had sparkles in my eyes. How incredible is this man? Not only does he have the best auditory memory for the small things I've ever encountered, but he goes out of his way to rectify the wrongs I've had with the small, quickly uttered solutions I'd blabbered between tears. I hadn't even thought of that, and that's what made his execution flawless. He brought me what I wanted so smoothly I didn't even notice, like they were parts of my life that I'd had all along.

"And what's your wish?" I asked in return. It was only fair.

"To be with you. I thought that was obvious," he stated honestly.

"There has to be something more, Vaughn. You had to have wishes before you met me."

"Sure I did." He glanced out the window, then back to me. "I still do. They're just…unimportant."

"Why would you think that?" I inquired, leaning forward. Was he really that selfless as to disregard what he was feeling, wishing for, just to make sure I was content and happy? We all have a degree of selfishness inside all of us, and I'm worried because I've yet to discover his.

I waited for his answer, but never heard it, both our pagers going off in a stereo symphony of punctuated beeping, blending in with the beat of the mellow Christmas carols pouring from the overhead speakers. Conversation and surroundings forgotten, we checked the displays and sighed at the same time.

"I swear, I haven't had a full day to myself in…years," I remarked, stretching my arms above my head. Vaughn nodded in agreement and stood, grabbing my hands from behind my chair and planting a kiss upon my lips. They tasted like his extra whipped cream – light and sweet, his tongue warm like hot chocolate. His kiss lasted longer than I expected, but I'm not one to complain about such things.

Eyes grinning when he pulled away, I finally stood and took another sip of my drink, hoping to recapture his warm taste with my own confection. He pointed to it as he pulled his keys from his coat pocket.

"I have a new appreciation for cinnamon."

I laughed.

––-

"Simple reconnaissance," Kendall classified it as, throwing the folder to me a little harsher than necessary. Was it my fault he was here this late? No. So there was no need for him to take his anger out on those of use who had a life outside the JTF and the world of international espionage no matter how much he didn't want us to.

"Chance Gunther, bankroller for Bank Austria. Recently, the bank opened a branch in Switzerland promising the highest security for the more shady of clients. We'd like for you to go in and evaluate his security systems."

"Any specific reason?" I asked.

"He already has contracts with several men on our most wanted list, including Arvin Sloane. Getting information on his security before the bank is opened could save us time and intel in the future."

"Why not take Gunther down now before anything's placed in his care?" Vaughn piped up next to me.

"Marshall has op tech. Place bugs and cameras and come home."

I sighed and leaned back in my chair, glancing over to Vaughn with a despondent look on my face. This certainly put a kink in our Christmas plans, a huge, mission-oriented one that I'm sure the normal people at the ice rank didn't have.

I could literally feel the Christmas spirit leaking from me as my arms hung over the sides of my chair, the feeling of the season dripping from my fingertips onto the floor. Vaughn grasped my hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Don't worry," he remarked, smirking, "I hear Switzerland's wonderful this time of year."

Right. But not as wonderful as drinking hot chocolate with you.

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Reader Responces:

I'm starting with the last few chapters.

anonymousthinker: Wow! Thanks for the compliment and the boost in reviews. *hugs*

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