Title: Through the Sands of Time
Author: "Me, der, if it wasn't mine, I wouldn't be posting it." - Aradia aka Jen
Couple: Rambaldi/Sydney
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Alias characters. If I did, I'd be a lot richer and a lot happier.
Author's Notes: This was written for a fanfiction competition on aliasboards.com. It was an "Unconventional Couples" competition and I won first place.
Story:
Rome – 1491
The dusty workshop floor was littered with spare parts. He had to shuffle through springs and cogs to walk from one desk to another and his constant movement had created a pathway in the dust for him to walk in. He mumbled to himself and scribbled with a feather pen on the dry parchment paper, ignoring the sound of the church bells just outside his window.
"Ah! I've done it," he gasps. He continues to mutter and stare at the drawings in front of him, memorizing them, before making his way over to a shelf. He gingerly pulls off the essential piece he needs to complete his work. With a triumphant stride, he inserts the final piece into his current project. It springs to life almost immediately. The gears crank, the springs spring, and he climbs inside, sitting in the small chamber he had designed. "I, Master Rambaldi, have finally done it."
He turns a crank on the panel in front of him and the floor of his workshop begins to rumble with the power of his machine. A flash of blinding light emits from somewhere deep inside the machine, knocking Rambaldi unconscious.
Los Angeles – today
Sydney Bristow tosses and turns in her bed, the early morning light creeping through her shades casts an angelic glow to her strong form. She awakes with a gasp and sits upright, panting heavily, the face of the man from her dreams burned into her retinas. She feels she will never forget that face. Calming herself down, she glances at the clock on her nightstand and realizes if she doesn't move now, she'll be late for work.
During her whole morning routine, her thoughts were plagued by the man from her dreams. He was so handsome, and they were so… intimate with each other. How could she be so in love with a man she's never met? Walking through the Ops Center, she tries to push it out of her mind, but he is ever present in the back of her mind.
She sits at her desk, typing up a report on her most recent assignment when Dixon and Marshall rush over to her. Marshall's face is flustered, and he looks extremely pleased with himself.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The conference room is the same as always. Vaughn sits to her left, her father to her right. Dixon and Marshall sit at the table opposite of them. Marshall is standing up, explaining his discovery from this morning, and Sydney's thoughts drift in and out from the conference, for the first time ever in her spy history.
"Sydney, Vaughn, you leave tonight." Her eyes meet Dixon's, slightly surprised.
Leaving? Tonight? I don't even know what we're doing.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Their mission was simple. Once in Rome, check out the site of what seemed to be a geological disturbance. Sydney wasn't sure why they were sending in the CIA, but Vaughn offered the tidbit that was revealed in the conference room.
"It's supposedly a site where a Rambaldi workshop existed."
No guards, no security system to get in their way, just an empty building. And that's what it was. Vaughn and Sydney stand outside the building, both with an almost confused look on their face. Shrugging, Sydney pushes the door aside with her weapon drawn, just in case. They make their way deep into the heart of the building. They come across a door, burned with the Rambaldi symbol: 0 Syd tries to push the door open, but it won't budge. Standing back, she kicks at it's weakest point and it swings open with a creak.
What's inside the room makes them stop cold. Stunned, they slowly make their way into the room, which was around 10 degrees hotter than it was in the hallway. A machine sits in the center, definitely a Rambaldi design. But what caused them the greatest shock was the man unconscious inside the machine. Holstering her weapon, Syd and Vaughn rush over and pull him out of the tangled iron work.
Thinking quickly, she checks his pulse and breathing, both of which are normal.
"You keep trying to get him conscious, I'll call it in." Vaughn tries to use his sat-com radio, but there was too much interference and Marshall can barely understand him. He leaves the room to get a better signal. Just after he leaves, the man on the floor coughs and begins to open his eyes. It's only then that Sydney actually looks at him.
"It's you," she mutters. "The man from my dreams this past week."
The man smiles weakly and slips back into unconsciousness. Vaughn rushes back in and announces that a helicopter is on it's way.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The CIA hospital was a place Sydney was all-too familiar with. She had been there numerous times herself and to visit others who were injured in the line of duty. This time, she had gotten clearance from Dixon to visit the guarded wing, where the man was being held. As she walked down the hall, flashing her badge for clearance to the security officer, Dixon's words rang through her head.
"Syd, we don't know who he is, so be careful."
She didn't have to be careful. She had been dreaming of him all week and knew he wouldn't do anything to hurt her. The door to his room hisses as it opens, allowing Sydney to be close to the man again. He is fully conscious and sits wide-eyed in the hospital bed. Newspapers are strewn around him and he flicks through the TV stations, watching the screen intently.
At her entrance, his jaw drops. "I knew I could find you," he says.
Sydney stares at him, unsure of how to react. "Who are you?"
"I am known as Rambaldi. I'm sure you know me. I have come to your time to bring you back with me. Your destiny is with me."
Tears well in Sydney's eyes. Deep in her heart, she wanted to go with him, she knew she had to go with him. She walked over to the hospital bed and lay down next to him, resting her head on his chest. Every movement felt so natural, so predetermined, like she had no control.
As the tears spill over and down her cheeks, she whispers, "I know."
Author: "Me, der, if it wasn't mine, I wouldn't be posting it." - Aradia aka Jen
Couple: Rambaldi/Sydney
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Alias characters. If I did, I'd be a lot richer and a lot happier.
Author's Notes: This was written for a fanfiction competition on aliasboards.com. It was an "Unconventional Couples" competition and I won first place.
Story:
Rome – 1491
The dusty workshop floor was littered with spare parts. He had to shuffle through springs and cogs to walk from one desk to another and his constant movement had created a pathway in the dust for him to walk in. He mumbled to himself and scribbled with a feather pen on the dry parchment paper, ignoring the sound of the church bells just outside his window.
"Ah! I've done it," he gasps. He continues to mutter and stare at the drawings in front of him, memorizing them, before making his way over to a shelf. He gingerly pulls off the essential piece he needs to complete his work. With a triumphant stride, he inserts the final piece into his current project. It springs to life almost immediately. The gears crank, the springs spring, and he climbs inside, sitting in the small chamber he had designed. "I, Master Rambaldi, have finally done it."
He turns a crank on the panel in front of him and the floor of his workshop begins to rumble with the power of his machine. A flash of blinding light emits from somewhere deep inside the machine, knocking Rambaldi unconscious.
Los Angeles – today
Sydney Bristow tosses and turns in her bed, the early morning light creeping through her shades casts an angelic glow to her strong form. She awakes with a gasp and sits upright, panting heavily, the face of the man from her dreams burned into her retinas. She feels she will never forget that face. Calming herself down, she glances at the clock on her nightstand and realizes if she doesn't move now, she'll be late for work.
During her whole morning routine, her thoughts were plagued by the man from her dreams. He was so handsome, and they were so… intimate with each other. How could she be so in love with a man she's never met? Walking through the Ops Center, she tries to push it out of her mind, but he is ever present in the back of her mind.
She sits at her desk, typing up a report on her most recent assignment when Dixon and Marshall rush over to her. Marshall's face is flustered, and he looks extremely pleased with himself.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The conference room is the same as always. Vaughn sits to her left, her father to her right. Dixon and Marshall sit at the table opposite of them. Marshall is standing up, explaining his discovery from this morning, and Sydney's thoughts drift in and out from the conference, for the first time ever in her spy history.
"Sydney, Vaughn, you leave tonight." Her eyes meet Dixon's, slightly surprised.
Leaving? Tonight? I don't even know what we're doing.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Their mission was simple. Once in Rome, check out the site of what seemed to be a geological disturbance. Sydney wasn't sure why they were sending in the CIA, but Vaughn offered the tidbit that was revealed in the conference room.
"It's supposedly a site where a Rambaldi workshop existed."
No guards, no security system to get in their way, just an empty building. And that's what it was. Vaughn and Sydney stand outside the building, both with an almost confused look on their face. Shrugging, Sydney pushes the door aside with her weapon drawn, just in case. They make their way deep into the heart of the building. They come across a door, burned with the Rambaldi symbol: 0 Syd tries to push the door open, but it won't budge. Standing back, she kicks at it's weakest point and it swings open with a creak.
What's inside the room makes them stop cold. Stunned, they slowly make their way into the room, which was around 10 degrees hotter than it was in the hallway. A machine sits in the center, definitely a Rambaldi design. But what caused them the greatest shock was the man unconscious inside the machine. Holstering her weapon, Syd and Vaughn rush over and pull him out of the tangled iron work.
Thinking quickly, she checks his pulse and breathing, both of which are normal.
"You keep trying to get him conscious, I'll call it in." Vaughn tries to use his sat-com radio, but there was too much interference and Marshall can barely understand him. He leaves the room to get a better signal. Just after he leaves, the man on the floor coughs and begins to open his eyes. It's only then that Sydney actually looks at him.
"It's you," she mutters. "The man from my dreams this past week."
The man smiles weakly and slips back into unconsciousness. Vaughn rushes back in and announces that a helicopter is on it's way.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The CIA hospital was a place Sydney was all-too familiar with. She had been there numerous times herself and to visit others who were injured in the line of duty. This time, she had gotten clearance from Dixon to visit the guarded wing, where the man was being held. As she walked down the hall, flashing her badge for clearance to the security officer, Dixon's words rang through her head.
"Syd, we don't know who he is, so be careful."
She didn't have to be careful. She had been dreaming of him all week and knew he wouldn't do anything to hurt her. The door to his room hisses as it opens, allowing Sydney to be close to the man again. He is fully conscious and sits wide-eyed in the hospital bed. Newspapers are strewn around him and he flicks through the TV stations, watching the screen intently.
At her entrance, his jaw drops. "I knew I could find you," he says.
Sydney stares at him, unsure of how to react. "Who are you?"
"I am known as Rambaldi. I'm sure you know me. I have come to your time to bring you back with me. Your destiny is with me."
Tears well in Sydney's eyes. Deep in her heart, she wanted to go with him, she knew she had to go with him. She walked over to the hospital bed and lay down next to him, resting her head on his chest. Every movement felt so natural, so predetermined, like she had no control.
As the tears spill over and down her cheeks, she whispers, "I know."