Chapter one:
Author's note: Hmm. I think the last chapter was a bit too ambiguous. Some tweaking might be in order. Anyway, enjoy.
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Time: 7:00 a.m.
Location: Gare Du Nord Station – Paris, France
As the creaky Eurostar train slowly jerks into motion, Sydney ignores the sounds of murmured French wafting slowly up and down the passenger seats of her train car, and stares out the window.
Though the Eurostar terminal had been on a completely different floor of the actual departure platform for the train, Sydney can swear she sees Vaughn – ("Michael", she corrects herself) – staring down at the train.
It's such a silly, fanciful thought, but as it's been such a weird and hard morning, Sydney's going to allow her mind some leeway. .
However, before she can really allow herself to start fantasizing about Michael actually joining her on the journey to London, a static-y voice comes over the intercom and interrupts her reverie.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. On behalf of the crew and myself, we'd like to welcome you onboard Eurostar. Our journey from Gare Du Nord to London's Waterloo Station will take approximately two hours and forty-three minutes, with stops in Calais and Ashford, London…"
As the captain continues to speak – both in English and in French – Sydney, having not slept well the night before, settles into the cushioned train seat and allows her mind to drift again.
Looking back, Sydney isn't sure if the whole "thing" (for her mind refuses to contemplate the possibility of an actual "relationship" when they're so far away from each other) is just a huge coincidence, or something that was meant to happen.
If she's honest with herself, she knows that she'd like to believe in the latter. A big believer in fate these days – something that can clearly be blamed on the mythology class she took last quarter – everything seemed to fall into place so perfectly – from their initial introduction, to their meeting, to…("Love?" – even now, Sydney can't really say the word) – all of it just fit together too well for it to have not been fated.