A/N: Hey, so sorry this chapter took longer to post, but here it is. Seriously, thanks for all your wonderful reviews. They're really a lot of help. So please, read, review, and enjoy!

Catherine: "one of the best and most intriguing Alias Fanfic out there right now"? Wow, what a compliment. Thanks so much, really means a lot. Hope we don't disappoint in the future:)

vaughnloveralwaysandforev: Thanks for your kind words. Yeah, the different storyline is part of the reason I was willing to actually give it a try and write this thing.

jennycraig10: I'm glad to hear that it seems like a real story to you. That is our intention. As for other stories, Ellie (the co-author) does have a few works over at (okay, I don't know why, but this thing won't let me write the actual website, so I'll just spell it out) s d - 1 . n e t. I also have one other story there that I had started, but decided to discontinue after about 12 chapters; it's called If Only. Thanks so much for the encouragement!

Rica18: Hey, thanks for your awesome review. The missions I write myself, so thanks for the compliment. I try my best to make them seem as real as possible. It's almost like a dance, in a way, that you plan out move by move... but yeah. "Torn and confused" is exactly how we want to describe the main characters, so I'm happy you get that feeling. :) Seriously, can't wait for the sequel to Red Rain!

dandan2300: To answer your question, it is on another site. I would've mentioned it before, but for some reason the url won't show up with the rest of the chapter. But I'll just spell it out. s d - 1 . n e t. It's there, under the S/V fanfiction section, of course. Thanks for the review!

electric pancake: Lol, you're right. I do see the fights taking place in those white hallways... or the opposite dingy, dark halls/tunnels. No clue as to where this is going? Well, we'll see with future chapters. Ellie and I plan to take this story pretty far. So thanks, and enjoy!


Disclaimer: We own nothing: not Alias, and not the quote or the title of the chapter, both of those belong to Zero 7 and their song 'Distractions'.

Chapter Three: Distractions

I only make jokes to distract myself from the truth.

"And I'm Evening Gown Barbie," Syd and Francie chorused in unison as Will groaned loudly.

The pair sat beside each other in comfortable pajamas on the beige couch, a bowl of popcorn between them. Will stood in the kitchen in a rumpled suit and messy hair. Grabbing a beer from the refrigerator (he had a feeling this would be a long night), he walked into the living room and lay opposite them.

"I don't see why we have to watch this again," he asked, closing his eyes and shaking his head in dismay.


"Because it's our favorite film," Francie replied, reaching into the bowl and taking a handful of popcorn.

"And it's not like you don't make us watch His Girl Friday every other week," Syd answered with a smug smile, weakly throwing a few pieces of popcorn in his direction.

Trying in vain to catch some of them with his mouth, Will picked up the rest and quickly ate them. "But that's a good film."

"In your opinion," Syd corrected, "But there's no denying the fact that our choice is a hundred times better than yours."


"Never Been Kissed?" He rolled his eyes and chewed another handful of popcorn. "It doesn't even compare," he snorted as he rose from the couch and strolled into the kitchen once again.

"Shhh," Francie said with a mischievous smile, "This is the best part."

As Drew Barrymore fled from the prom on the screen, Sydney found herself drifting away on the couch.

Since her life had been saved by her (damnit, she had to stop doing that. He was not her green-eyed stranger! How many times did she have to tell herself that? It'd been what…three weeks now since she last saw him, and she was still thinking about him? Get over it already! She's not seventeen any more, she's not Josie Geller, and this was real life, not high school. She had to forget about him.

Since (…that man…) had saved her life three weeks ago, she had been completely unable to erase him from her mind, and her inner monologue was proving to be useless. Though her reason told her he was no one – just some guy who happened to be at the right place at the right time, some guy was grateful (attracted?...) to–something (…love?) kept tugging at her heart.

And…

truth be told…

she wasn't all that unhappy about it.

Of course, she was a loyal CIA agent and he was the enemy who worked for God knows who… still, it piqued her interest.

No, she shouldn't be thinking that. Despite the nagging feeling, she had a love boyfriend who didn't deserve to be set aside for a complete stranger.

Danny Hecht was one of the sweetest men she knew. He bought her flowers, took her out to dinner in fancy restaurants, and called her when he was going to be stuck at work. He was training to be a paediatric cardiologist, and he loved his job. He talked about marriage and kids – he definitely wanted kids – and he'd never forgotten an anniversary or a birthday. All of this was great, wonderful, the kind of relationship every woman dreamed of.

But she couldn't help but think that it was missing one vital element:

Passion (true love)

When their relationship first began, there had been those butterflies, that longing to see him, but, well, to be honest, that had disappeared after the third cancelled date in a row. The relationship was caring and warm and gentle and safe. Safe was what she had thought she wanted, what with her jet-setting life as an international spy. But after the second meeting with this man who so totally consumed her heart and mind, she was beginning to see that maybe safe wasn't what she wanted. Or maybe…well, it didn't really matter how that one worked. What did matter was that she wanted something more exciting from a relationship than flowers and romantic dinners.

Or maybe she didn't.

She was so confused. A man she'd only met twice, yet she couldn't stop thinking about him. This was ridiculous. She loved Danny, and that (her) stranger was just some guy she'd never see again…

She loved Danny…

Right?

"…even listening to me?" Syd was brought back from her thoughts by Francie's irritated interjection.

"Sorry," she apologised quickly, briefly dropping her gaze into the bowl of popcorn before looking back at her. "What were you saying?"

"That's exactly my point!" Francie exclaimed, wearing an expression that showed more concern than annoyance. "Ever since you came back from that last business trip, it's like you've been on a different planet or something. Seriously Syd, what's going on with you?"

Though Francie stared at her friend, Will's eyes remained on the screen. Apparently, he had nothing to say about this.

"I'm just tired," she answered, bringing up the old excuse she had employed so many times before. "We've got this new client at the bank," she elaborated, "And he's really particular about everything, which just puts everyone under so much pressure. We get into so much trouble if things aren't perfect."

"I've told you this before, and I'll tell you it again," Francie began, "You…"

"Should quit," Syd finished for her with a smile that lightened the mood. "I know, but I can't. My job is important to me, Fran, you know that."

"But, Syd…"

"Francie," Will interrupted, his eyes on the movie but his mind on the conversation, "she wouldn't quit before; she's not going to quit just because you keep yelling at her." Francie sat back against the couch, slightly shocked by Will's outburst.

Sydney felt uncomfortable, suspecting that his comment sprung from his desire to appeal to her and win her favor. She knew how Will felt, but she didn't have the heart to turn him down face-to-face.

Great, that's another thing she had to worry about. Will was one of her best friends, so how was she supposed to tell him that she just wanted to be his friend? God, that sounded so awful – so cliché – but it was the truth. Every time she mentioned Danny, he got this hurt look on his face.

She knew she would have to deal with that one day, but for now she had to get her mind (and emotions) under control.

She sighed, ignoring the thought that invaded her brain and turned back to focus on the television.

Was Danny the right man for her?

"…my first real kiss." As Josie Geller stood on the pitcher's mound waiting for Sam, Sydney's mind wandered once more to the forbidden thought of what it would be like to kiss her green-eyed stranger.

She couldn't help but wonder what he was doing at that moment.

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Surrounded by several papers, Vaughn was sprawled on the floor of his living room with his back to the couch. So far, he had found out nothing about the mystery woman who had captured his heart... or, at least, his attention. Though he had carefully searched any intel regarding the past two missions, there was no indication of which organization his enticing enemy worked for. After carefully studying the documents for a number of hours, Michael had spent the last few days acquiring and examining any surveillance tapes that would provide a hint as to her entrances, escapes, or partners.

Nothing.

Whoever these people were, they knew what they were doing. They knew how to cover their tracks--a fact which only seemed to confirm his dismal supposition as to the morality of the association that employed her. The only hope of discovering her identity lay in the partial fingerprint he had been able to remove from his gun after the last mission. But after four days of patiently waiting, there was still no word from his contact. And so it was that Vaughn, drained and discouraged, sat motionless on his apartment floor, gazing blankly at his television.

His reason was eager to disclose the simple and obvious truth: he was at a dead end. And, normally, he would have agreed but for the fire of curiosity (...love?) that burned within him.

There was no way to explain it. He just had to find out who she worked for (an evil organization? a black ops division?), where she lived (had he passed her on the street, in a store?), and who she was (a moral person?). But he wouldn't admit to himself that he also sought the answer to the question that inflamed his very soul.

How did she feel about him?

That was, of course, assuming that she felt anything at all. But he didn't have any doubt about that. Not that he was cocky or conceited, but he was sure that he had correctly interpreted the look of indecision when she did not pull the trigger... not to mention the lustful gaze that gleamed in her beautiful brown eyes when he had nearly kissed her on that first mission...

What would have happened if he had kissed her? Naturally, that led him to contemplate the more important question: wou--

Someone was pounding on his door, and by the escalating vibrations, that person had been knocking for a while. Languidly rising, Vaughn slowly approached the door, hardly thinking twice about his nearly naked state. His guest would simply have to deal with him wearing only a pair of light blue boxers. Opening the door, he was surprised to find a casually dressed Weiss pacing back and forth like a starved lion.

"Hey, Mikey!" Eric shouted with a bright smile before stepping into the apartment, completely missing the annoyed expression on his friend's face at the sound of the childish nickname.

At least Eric knew better than to call him that in public... or, worse yet, at work.

Vaughn had barely closed his door and turned around before Weiss bombarded him with questions.

"Mike, you ready?" There was a slight pause as he recognized that Michael was, indeed, not prepared at all. "Whoa! What's with you, Man? We've got practice in twenty minutes, and you look like you just got out of bed! Jeez, Mike, what the hell have you been doing all this time? It's like I've barely seen you these past few days. What's going on?" Weiss quickly questioned, amazingly able to finish his interrogation in two breaths.

Michael nervously rubbed his forehead and shut his eyes, waiting for the echoing questions to subside. Taking a deep breath, he looked up into the concerned eyes of his best friend and replied, "Sorry, Eric. I forgot about practice today, but I don't really feel like going. Just tell the guys I'm sick or something. They won't care."

Vaughn had to force himself not to recoil at Weiss' suspicious glare. Instead, he merely stared back, almost challenging him to question the veracity of his words. After a few seconds of this quiet battle, Weiss took a small step forward and asked with a calm voice, "What are you up to, Michael?" Upon hearing the inquiry, Vaughn cast his eyes upon the floor and shrugged.

He couldn't lie to him--not to his best friend. After years of friendship, that was the least that Eric deserved. But... should he tell him? Would he understand?

Before he could come to a decision, the silence was interrupted by words that resonated from the walls. "What the...?"

s---. He had found them. The papers, the tapes. How could he have been stupid enough to leave them out like that? What if someone other than Eric had shown up? How would he have explained that?

But it was time to tell him anyway. These thoughts had been bothering him long enough; he needed help.

Following Eric into the living room, Michael quietly began, "I've been... uh, doing some research on my own. I figured the Agency needs all the help they can get. We have absolutely no leads on this woman, and she's beat me to the artefacts twice. If I--I mean the Agency learns all they can about her, then maybe we can predict her next move and get there before she does. I'm just trying to do my job, Weiss," he finished lamely, all the while staring at the ground.

That was pathetic. Even he hadn't believed his own words, and he knew that Eric sure as hell wouldn't either.

Slowly lifting his head, Vaughn was met with Eric's open jaw and raised eyebrow. Without any hesitation, he quickly responded, "Mike, come on, it's me. I just want to know what the hell you're doing. I read your debriefs and, as far as anyone can tell, you did your job. You did everything you could," Weiss stated seriously before turning away from him. "I mean, Jesus, Michael, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you almost felt guilty about the whole thing."

Both men froze at these words.

Inhaling deeply, Eric turned to face his friend, who had taken a sudden interest in the couch beside them. He didn't need to see the pained expression on Vaughn's face to discover the truth of his words. Rooted to the floor, he stared in disbelief and calmly whispered, "You do feel guilty, don't you?"

Michael pinched the bridge of his nose before exclaiming, "Of course not! Where the hell did you come up with that? I'm just--"

"Cut the crap, Michael! I'm not stupid! I'm your best friend, and I think--"

"--trying to do my job better! Why the hell do you have to be so--"

"--you should at least tell me the truth instead of trying to lie to my face. I swear, it's like--"

"--suspicious about everything I do! This is my work, damnit, and I don't have to explain my actions to you or--"

"--you're trying to hide something from me! That's it, isn't it? You feel guilty because--"

"--ask your permission to do my job. I feel responsible for the failure of those two missions, that's--"

"--you must've let her escape, probably because you've fallen in love with her!"

"--all there is to it. For Christ's sake, it's not like I've fallen in love with her!"

Vaughn and Weiss immediately stopped talking upon hearing the same declaration escape from the other's mouth. Only the sound of heavy breathing could be heard in the room, but their eyes burned with rage and disbelief.

After an eternity filled with the void of silence, Eric slowly stepped up to his friend and proclaimed, "I know what you're doing. And if that's the case, then, fine; I won't stop you. But just remember which side you're on." With a final glance of confusion, pain, but also, understanding, Weiss walked away from Vaughn, opened the door, and shut (not slammed) it closed.

Rubbing his eyes, Michael stood still and waited for the pain to recede.

That had gone slightly better than expected. He had never argued so vehemently with Weiss, but, then again, he hadn't really anticipated Eric slapping his back and wishing him well. He was understandably pissed, but it was almost like Weiss understood why he was doing this--as if the idea of being in love (in love? Didn't he mean "attracted to?") with the enemy was not completely inconceivable.

Still, he would probably have to talk to Eric about the past two missions in detail and ask his opinion about what he should do.

For through all his endless meditations about this woman, he had forgotten that he might be betraying his country. And that was something he was not yet sure he could do, especially not for a simple attraction (love?).

His thoughts were once again suspended by the ringing cell phone on the table. Exhaling loudly, Vaughn reached over to his phone and studied the number: his contact. As he answered the call, he ignored the one question he refused to consider.

Would she kiss him back?

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So yeah, there's chapter 3. Like it? Hate it? Let us know. Thanks for all your support! First part of chapter 4 should be up sometime soon.

Liz