ALLOWED

Author's Note: Well, english is not my mother tongue, but I want to give this a chance... So, please don't be too hard with the mistakes and forgive me.
Disclaimer: None of this character are mine, I'm just borrowing them (But I'm totally considering keeping Arvin Sloane...)
Location: Indeterminate. Before Season 4, certanly. In the start of Season 3 sounds good.
Topic: Something like romance. One of the rarest couples that I've heard about.
(Rated M-16 for Chapter 2)
Dedicate to: Paly, niƱa, friend. Mecky the one with the idea. Lulita because she is a brown eyed angel saving me from my own mistakes (she's doing the beta-reading!)


Chapter 1.-

They had been working together for so many nights that they almost had get used to the mutual company. It wasn't good, but it wasn't bad either...
'It was all because of The Govement, that new bloody mutual agreement...'
Her mind stopped with the sound of the coffe maker. He got up and went for the hot mix of caffeine and sugar. She only accepted it, like the fact that they were working together, like the fact that she didn't hate him anymore... or that she hated him less...
It has been like that every single night since a month. Just they, the cold apartment and the coffee maker.

"I have to go" he said, getting up from his chair.
"O.k" she got up too, and followed him to the door, going two steps behind.
"Good Night, Sydney" he wishpered
"G' Night" she answered.
When his hand touched the latch, accidentally he rubbed hers. Sydney gave to him a puzzled look. He came a bit too clooser for her, their faces were just millimeters apart. They were breathing the same air, the same tense air
His body didn't give any chance of running, of moving away from him...
"What worries you moust, Sydney?" he said, with his mouth almost touching hers while he was speaking "What might your father think or say? What might they back at the CIA think or say? What Vaughn might think or say?... Are you imagining them, Sydney? Imagine the expression in their faces if they see you in this compromising position... with me, of all people..."
"Not" it went out of her mouth without rationalize it, but it was too late to move back "I'm scared of my own mind" this time she was whispering and it was her mouth the one that almost was touching, was hunting, his after every word "I'm scared of what I might think... What might I feel if I remembered why I hate you, or why I should hate you?... What might I feel after doing the simple mathematical calculation that would show the difference of our age... And more than anything I am scared of what I might feel and think if you kissed me... If you make love with me..."
He was amazed, certainly, because she had just said everything what he thought she would keep to herself. This was a possibility in a million, and he was going to take it... So he kissed her... There was neither love nor passion in that kiss, probably only was lust. It was not sweet... It was not delicate. It was strong. It was hard. It was wild. And, even, it was hurting.
In some moment they separated from each other's mouth, but it was again too late... And they allowed it...