Disclaimer: I do not own ALIAS, my mind, or my body. I do however, own
this idea, and Catherine Rossakoff. ALIAS belongs to bad robot, and
various other things I cannot remember, my mind belongs to my evil,
overbearing school, and my body belongs to my phone. The phone belongs to
Samsung, and I think Samsung belongs to Cingular, which belongs to some
parent company (probably Coca-Cola).
A/N: I would like to thank LilSuferSango and E*Milzon for reviewing. (
Catherine glanced around the airport terminal. She was use to flying, but it never ceased to amaze her at how many, well, FREAKS there were in an airport.
Sark kept glimpsing at Catherine. He wasn't sure how she felt about flying, mostly because the two of them never talked. She was an accessory. An amazing fighter, but an accessory none the less.
"If you glance at me one more time, Julian, I am going to slit your throat with my knife." Catherine muttered, loud enough so that only he heard.
"Nice to know that American transit authority can detect actual terrorists" Sark murmured.
"Oh, shut up." Catherine ordered.
"You don't give the orders, I do." Sark replied, cross.
"Mmm hmm, I'm sure. If that's true, then why am I the one that keeps coming up with all of the plans?" Catherine asked.
"You do not!" Sark protested.
"Someone's in denial, someone's in denial." Catherine teased.
"Shut up!" Sark yelled. A woman and her three children turned and stared, making him blush.
"Hello!" Catherine waved. The woman turned around.
"Come on, children, it's not nice to stare." She told them.
"Well, that was rather rude." Sark commented, his face returning to its normal color.
Catherine laughed. "You know, I was thinking..."
"You? Thinking? That's a shocker." Sark mocked.
Catherine stuck her tongue out at him. "Anyway... I was thinking that there's got to be something that you had that you just loved that it just kills you that you don't have it anymore."
"Well... now... that's a rather peculiar question." Sark mused.
"Thank you!" Catherine replied.
"I think that, at one point, I would have liked to respond to that with my innocence. However, now I don't know what to say." Sark told her.
"How very strange of you to bring that up..." Catherine began.
"Well, what's your answer?" Sark asked, annoyed.
"I think... I think that it would have to be my sister." Catherine replied.
"You have a sister?" A surprised Sark asked.
"Yes, a younger sister. She was off to her first year of school when I left home." Catherine replied, a far away look in her eye.
"Final Boarding Call for Euro Air Flight 492 to Moscow, Russia" The P.A. system announced. Sark and Catherine jumped up.
"You know... if you weren't so busy asking questions..." Sark muttered.
"Shut up!" Catherine ordered, hitting him as they were running to the plane.
"I'm telling your mother!" Sark threatened.
"You don't even know my mother!" Catherine exclaimed.
Sark and Catherine sped up, as if racing each other. (And, knowing them, they probably are.)
A/N: I would like to thank LilSuferSango and E*Milzon for reviewing. (
Catherine glanced around the airport terminal. She was use to flying, but it never ceased to amaze her at how many, well, FREAKS there were in an airport.
Sark kept glimpsing at Catherine. He wasn't sure how she felt about flying, mostly because the two of them never talked. She was an accessory. An amazing fighter, but an accessory none the less.
"If you glance at me one more time, Julian, I am going to slit your throat with my knife." Catherine muttered, loud enough so that only he heard.
"Nice to know that American transit authority can detect actual terrorists" Sark murmured.
"Oh, shut up." Catherine ordered.
"You don't give the orders, I do." Sark replied, cross.
"Mmm hmm, I'm sure. If that's true, then why am I the one that keeps coming up with all of the plans?" Catherine asked.
"You do not!" Sark protested.
"Someone's in denial, someone's in denial." Catherine teased.
"Shut up!" Sark yelled. A woman and her three children turned and stared, making him blush.
"Hello!" Catherine waved. The woman turned around.
"Come on, children, it's not nice to stare." She told them.
"Well, that was rather rude." Sark commented, his face returning to its normal color.
Catherine laughed. "You know, I was thinking..."
"You? Thinking? That's a shocker." Sark mocked.
Catherine stuck her tongue out at him. "Anyway... I was thinking that there's got to be something that you had that you just loved that it just kills you that you don't have it anymore."
"Well... now... that's a rather peculiar question." Sark mused.
"Thank you!" Catherine replied.
"I think that, at one point, I would have liked to respond to that with my innocence. However, now I don't know what to say." Sark told her.
"How very strange of you to bring that up..." Catherine began.
"Well, what's your answer?" Sark asked, annoyed.
"I think... I think that it would have to be my sister." Catherine replied.
"You have a sister?" A surprised Sark asked.
"Yes, a younger sister. She was off to her first year of school when I left home." Catherine replied, a far away look in her eye.
"Final Boarding Call for Euro Air Flight 492 to Moscow, Russia" The P.A. system announced. Sark and Catherine jumped up.
"You know... if you weren't so busy asking questions..." Sark muttered.
"Shut up!" Catherine ordered, hitting him as they were running to the plane.
"I'm telling your mother!" Sark threatened.
"You don't even know my mother!" Catherine exclaimed.
Sark and Catherine sped up, as if racing each other. (And, knowing them, they probably are.)