Ok, so I decided to publish this chapter a little early, just to compensate for the fact that previous one was rather short. I hope you enjoy it. This was a schezophrenic chapter to write: the Syd part was re-written to death to get it where it is, while the last scene came to me almost as you see it here. Such is the life of the writer, I guess. Some stuff flows out of you. Other stuff just takes everything you have, including your guts, your patience and you capacity/willingness to give it your all.
Let me know if you think it paid off. XX00
Part 8: Awakenings
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Vienna, Austria
Previous night
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They'd landed only 3 hours ago, after a very long day of preparation in LA. This op was of the utmost importance: if everything went as planned tonight, they would have an exhaustive list of Covenant operatives and transactions. After a short drive from the private airport where their plane had landed, Sydney and Weiss arrived in their CIA-secured hotel suite located in the heart of Vienna, and started preparing for the evening.
The mission was simple. A rendezvous with their informant at a predetermined time. The delivery of the item containing the data. Nothing they hadn't done before. Yet, like any mission, perfect timing and reviewing of the op specs could mean success versus failure in case something went wrong. After one last run-through, both agents left the common sitting room and went to their respective bedrooms to get dressed.
Half-an-hour later, Sydney was just coming out in a long spaghetti-strap, black evening dress, matching diamond earrings and necklace, and natural brown hair up in a French twist when she heard an expletive shooting out of Weiss' bedroom. The door opened a moment later, with Eric holding a cuff link. "Hey Syd, could you help me with this? I left my third hand in LA."
He walked over and handed her the offending object, all the while still trying to put it on. When she didn't take it right away, he looked up and caught her staring at him like she'd never seen him before.
Sydney's brain was slowly catching up: Wow… Who knew that regular, Dockers and t-shirt Eric had it in him to make a tuxedo that attractive? He looked really amazing with his hair gelled and peeking up, fresh-shaven…
"Syd?" He asked again as she had yet to answer.
His pressing tone finally got to her. "Um, Sure." She'd blurted out, plastering her "everything is alright" smile on to cover up her astonishment. She took the cuff link and concentrated on clipping it on; under the double effort, a wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows. What was wrong with her? Hello! This was Weiss. Her partner, tequila buddy and best friend since she'd been back. It's not like she hadn't seen him in a suit before. She hadn't seen him in a tuxedo since he'd slimmed down, however. That must be it. The elegant tux cut accentuated his solid shoulders and narrower waistline. He'd never lacked self-confidence and ease. But tonight, his whole silhouette oozed of it. Quite the eye magnet…
The cuff link finally settled, Sydney turned away to hide the blush she could feel creeping up her cheeks. What on earth had suddenly come over her? Weiss was almost like a long-lost brother to her. Which made this whole train of thought very unsettling...
For once oblivious to her struggles, Weiss checked his watch. "Ready? Let's hit it."
They left quickly, their minds immediately caught in the mission's inner rhythm.
Thirty minutes later, they were beyond the security check-point and inside the German embassy. Almost immediately, both of them separated and started to mingle as they waited for the time of contact, some 20 minutes away.
"Retriever, I'm going in. Turning off comm link for two minutes." Sydney spoke in a low voice when time was up.
"Copy that, Mountaineer." Weiss answered in the same hushed-up tone.
While Weiss stayed in the ballroom as backup, Sydney went into the adjacent buffet room to retrieve the intel. Amazingly, everything was going according to plan: no need to ruin her beautiful dress in a fight; her contact was there at the assigned time, leaving on a side table the small disc she artfully slipped under her beverage napkin. She was back in the ballroom before the two minutes were over and ready to collect her partner.
That was when she spotted him dancing a waltz (quite expertly too) with a young woman whose face was vaguely familiar.
Intrigued, she asked around and found out the girl was Alicia, Princess of some remote German province and a jet-set socialite with a particular penchant for intriguing, non jet-setters that could hold their own on the dance floor. And by the looks of it, she'd decided Weiss' dashing, unconventional charm and dancing talents were just the thing for her tonight.
Quite rapidly, an idea made its way through to Sydney's conscious mind. Completely aware that he wouldn't be able to respond, she reopened the comm link.
"Retriever, I'm done here. I'm going to turn in. I see you're got your work cut out for the evening. Have fun! Catch you later at the hotel."
Her smiled widened as she saw him frantically scanning the room for her. She left quickly for fear of giving him an out.
It was high time Eric got an evening to himself. He looked like he was enjoying the dance with his partner. Life was too short not to take advantage of all its opportunities, as she knew too well. Sometimes, you could die, and then come back to an existence where everything you loved had crumbled. Better enjoy it while you could.
Try as she may, however, she couldn't convince herself that her intentions were purely altruistic. The fact of the matter was that if she hadn't escaped while Weiss' hands were-so to speak-full, he would have come back to the hotel with her. Not that there was anything wrong with that. Except that after five weeks of constant surveillance on his part, the independent side of her had just decided it was time she graduated from his particular brand of care.
She appreciated the sentiment, she really did. Weiss was an unending source of strength, laughter, and moral support in her new life. He was honest and loyal, and for some reason, he could read her like an open book. He was the only person, besides her father maybe, who knew exactly that her claims that she was "fine" were just a smoke screen to hide her still healing wounds. Being able to share some of that burden with him made going through the day that much better, no doubt there.
But tonight, she was ready for some "alone time."
And anyway, it would do him good to talk to another female beside herself.
Convinced she was doing the right thing, Sydney got a taxi. Twenty minutes later, she was back in her room, alone at last. Rapidly, she sent the content of the disc over the secure line Marshall had established, and locked the precious item in the safe.
In her bedroom, she tossed off the awful stiletto pumps that killed her feet, slid out of her dress, and walked to the bathroom. She started the shower running while she finished undressing and taking the pins out of her hair. A minute later, she stepped into the hot water jet. She stayed there for a little while, trying to think of nothing and enjoy the moment. Eventually, she turned off the shower, feeling somewhat relaxed from the tension of the last 36 hours. She dried herself and donned the bathrobe that was hanging on the door.
Even after a two-year disappearance, her bathing ritual had endured. It was a necessary step when she came back from a mission. As if she were cleansing the spy skin off of her, so that she could relax and enjoy her day-to-day life. Ideally, she preferred to soak in a bathtub for half-an-hour, but that wasn't always possible. Tonight, she was tired and the shower would have to do.
She poked around her overnight bag to find her pjs. No more glamour for her tonight. What she needed right now was comfort. In a way, it had always been like that, even back when Will and Francie, and Vaughn to some extent, used to greet her at home. They'd be there, waiting for her to return, ready to talk about everything and nothing. They were regular people in a way she couldn't be. And for the love and comfort they gave her, she woke up every morning and tried to make the world a place where those sentiments still counted for something.
The bathrobe thrown aside and her pjs on, a glass of water on the nightstand, Sydney climbed into the queen size bed and turned the light off. She settled in a comfortable spot between the white sheets. Intent on sleeping, she closed her eyes and waited.
And waited.
After half-an-hour, she was already worn out at the thought of the long sleepless night before her.
Since her return from wherever she had been, insomnia had been plaguing her more or less severely. If she managed to fall asleep at all, she would usually wake up in a panic after a couple of hours of fitful rest, her breathing labored, her hair damp with sweat. The dreams always vanished when she was conscious. All she knew was that she couldn't go back to sleep, for fear that something bad might happen. Like losing everything and everyone she loved by the time she woke up. She'd tried to fight it on her own, with relaxation, pills, workouts that left her barely standing. And she succeeded some of the time. And many times, she did not.
Turning on her left side and readjusting her pillow, Sydney reflected that her sleep deprivation would have landed her in a home for the mentally ill, if it hadn't been for Weiss. Since her return, he'd made sure she knew to count on him. And she had. He'd been her only rock to hold onto in the tempest of her emotions and doubts. It was discreet in the first few months. He would occasionally come for dinner or a few rounds of tequila. Often, the evening would last until pretty late.
The first time she'd woken up the next day, still on her couch but somehow more rested, she'd been mortified to have dozed off on him like that. He, of course, was long gone, the throw covering her the only testimony of his presence the night before.
When she saw him next, he wouldn't hear her apology. As with everything, he made light of it, calling her Snow White and pointing out how he'd managed to be the seven dwarves all by himself. As she insisted, he hinted that he knew she struggled to sleep, and her dozing off was fine with him. In fact, he seemed quite touched she'd been comfortable enough to let herself fall asleep while he was around. In the end, what should have been awkward and rude became a measure of their mutual trust and friendship.
All of his care hadn't been enough to prevent her breakdown, though. Poor Eric… She'd probably scared the living daylights out of him, the night he walked in on her almost-catatonic body in the shower. Since then, he'd given up any pretense at discretion and started hanging around all the time.
In the darkness of the bedroom, Sydney smiled fondly as she thought of the long hours they'd spent talking. Make that: she talked about how miserable she was and he listened, never complaining about what had to be the most boring, potentially embarrassing, topic of conversation for him: life after her death in a world without Vaughn. He listened and he answered, even encouraged her to get it off her chest, always making sure she would laugh at herself and her fears and worries by evening's end.
Tequila helping, they'd even managed to exchange a few chapters of their respective life stories. They'd bonded and crossed into an undefined territory where friendship was the foundation and sharing, the cement. And thanks to his support, she was beginning to find her way in this strange world that was now hers.
She sighed, turning once more in the already tangled sheets. She'd wanted to be alone. Well, she'd gotten more than she bargained for. Loneliness and insomnia to boot. Plenty of time to rehash her crazy situation. Great.
Tired of tossing and turning, she got up and put on the bathrobe she'd left on a nearby chair. In the half-shadow bathing the room, she walked to the window and peered down at the city below. There was something serene about a million little lights twinkling and defining the darker valleys that made up the streets.
She sighed again, loneliness wearing on her. For some reason, she kept coming back to the fact that Weiss wasn't next door, as he was back at home.
And she missed him, she suddenly realized. She missed knowing she could call him, and he would be there in a minute. She missed the sarcastic banter she'd grown fond of. And, sleeplessness helping, she found herself wishing the solid shoulder he often lent her was there to fall asleep on.
It was embarrassing to admit, but it was true. Forget the occasional times when she'd dozed off at the end of an evening spent with him. Since the shower incident, she'd hardly gone to sleep without him being around. At this point, it was like an unscripted routine they replayed almost daily.
They'd hook up for dinner or after, for a beer or a movie, sometimes a game of cards. She would eventually lie down on the couch. He'd be sitting on the ground, fussing over something, and the next thing she knew, it was morning and time to get up.
Every once in a while, after a particular difficult time on a mission or a long talk that made her blue, she would even swallow her pride like she had done the night of the shower, and ask him if he would please just hold her until she fell asleep.
He never said yes. He just smiled and nodded in silent understanding. It wasn't long before she figured out those were her more restful nights.
He was never there the next morning. She didn't expect him to be. And yet, she couldn't help but feel a pang of regret that he wasn't around to help her slip back into the land of the living just as he had soothed her into the oblivion of sleep.
They were walking a tight rope, though. It was funny how both of them had made a point never to cross the fine line between physical presence and what could lead to something more intimate.
Or so she thought until tonight.
Not that Weiss had given her any indication that he was acting out of anything but friendship.
Rather, it was she who was looking at him differently. She thought back to earlier this evening, when she first saw him coming out of his room. Like a VCR that had been on pause all night, her mind picked up where she'd felt foolish for reacting so strongly to his entrance in the room.
Smiling at the memory, Sydney left the window, walked back to her bed and sat down. Despite herself, her eyes peered into the darkness to make out the door to the common sitting room. As the reason why she'd been embarrassed earlier slowly became evident, she couldn't help but blush again.
It was simple, really. It was bound to happen one day.
For the first time in all the evenings they had spent together, she had looked at Eric Weiss as a man. She'd caught herself evaluating him physically, how attractive he was to her, the line of his broad shoulders, his solid set, the soft curves of his cheeks, the dead-gorgeous smile he got when something made him very happy, his brown eyes, so expressive, so caring, so enigmatic sometimes.
Her smile transformed into a quiet giggle. Was she crushing on Weiss? Eric? She was, wasn't she?
She giggled again, her insomnia momentarily forgotten. It was so strange to even consider it. She'd spent so much time with him as if he was the big brother she never had. Anything else felt out of place.
No, she couldn't be, her logical mind decided. They'd just been thrown together a lot lately. And she'd been emotionally vulnerable. And he'd been the only one there all along, listening and caring. And that was all there was to it.
Nevertheless, the thought of him relaxed her, and she shoved her logical voice to the side to make room for the teenager in her, complete with renewed blushes and silly grins. A little fantasy never hurt anyone. And it was so good to remember how…
A startling insight suddenly cut her daydreaming short.
Her old feelings.
Oh. God. Oh God.
She let out a whimper. Everything inside her, every stronghold of her mind and heart was dissolving under the shock of what she had just become conscious of.
Already, her face was grimacing as it did every time she was trying to hold her tears in. Soon, her hand came up to her mouth in a futile attempt to stop the sound of the first sobs already passing her trembling lips.
Oh God. How could it be? How? After all this time, the years… and now?
Her tears started flowing… Silently, she cried, overwhelmed by the swift assault of the precious emotions she hadn't felt in decades.
It had happened around the time of her mother's death. They said her mommy had gone with the angels, and her daddy was away. That was why she was staying with strangers all the time. They were nice, but they didn't know how to take care of her like mommy and daddy did. And that hurt so much inside. So one day when her heart was too heavy to go on being sad, she decided to do like in one of her stories, where the hero put his feelings in a bottle until he could use them again. And carefully, she'd hidden in her heart all her memories of being cherished, loved and protected. One day, maybe daddy would be back and then, they could uncork the bottle together.
But daddy had never been back. Not the way he was before he left. And all the feelings and caresses and love had stayed buried so that Little Sydney could go on living, ignoring a pain that would have crippled her if she hadn't protected herself.
As careful as she was, the feelings would sometimes emerge from the deepest recesses of her heart. She'd even thought they'd been revived on occasions: with Danny, with Vaughn, even when she renewed her relationship with her father. She'd tried to awaken them like a dormant genie when she took up house with Francie and Will.
But none of these relationships, as profound as they were, could fully rekindle the cozy, familiar warmth and calming proximity, the caring love and blind trust she'd felt as a little girl.
Nothing until now. She was feeling all of it right now. And it wasn't because she was thinking about her childhood.
It was because she was daydreaming about a shoulder a friend lent her to sleep on.
She remembered now how, most evenings over the past month, she was able to abandon all pretense. She'd been too preoccupied to notice it, but it was truly the little Sydney in her that had resurfaced. Somehow, her past and present had reconnected, bringing back the purity of her old feelings, the blind trust she'd put in the person whose arms were holding her tight as if she were the most precious, most unique thing in the world. At last, she was safe, calm and hopeful. She could sleep without the fear of waking up to another nightmare.
Fresh tears fell slowly along her cheeks. She'd been so touched when Weiss had replaced the lost copy of Alice in Wonderland that her mom had given her, all those years ago. It was such a thoughtful, optimistic gift, as if to tell her that nothing was completely lost that could not be rebuilt one way or another.
But it was only now that she also understood how incredibly appropriate the gift was. Like the days after her mom's accident, her return from the dead was a sort of jump down the rabbit hole. Since she'd woken up in Hong Kong, everything felt like a dream that called itself reality. In her mind's eye, like Alice, she was alternately big and small, perpetually out of place.
But slowly, Eric had become her anchor, her lifeline to the next day. He'd given her back her sleep and serenity. She trusted him to hold her back or jump in with her if anyone tried to make her disappear down the hole again. Day after day, he'd guided her through her chimerical regrets, dreams and wishes, until the true reality of her present life became familiar and she finally felt like she belonged here.
She didn't want to vanish anymore. Not when the meanderings of the rabbit hole had just brought her home.
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.*.*.
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In the wee hours of the morning, Sydney finally dozed off for a while, until the background noise of Vienna waking up pulled her out of her light sleep.
Exhausted, she went to shower in the hope that it would give her a jolt. Soon after, she put on her running pants, shoes, and a t-shirt, and decided to go out for a little while.
Within half-an-hour, she was back. In and out of the shower, and she was ready to face the day ahead. She stopped to read her email. Marshall was gushing about all the encryption codes he was having to break. He informed her, however, that it was quite complex and would take several hours to resolve.
The rest of the morning was spent writing her report and examining the preliminary data that was available. All the while, the emptiness of Weiss' room behind her hurt like a burn.
When Weiss hadn't answered her phone calls to his bedroom earlier, she figured her improvised scheme might have worked a little too well. Which, after the soul searching and discoveries she had made last night, elicited mixed feelings in her.
By lunchtime, these unnamable feelings turned to slight worry.
When he finally showed up to collect his things, she felt downright bad. Exhausted, unshaven, still standing up out of sheer will power, he only had half an hour to spare before they left to catch their plane. Apparently, Alicia's determination, considerable means and private jet had forced Weiss to accompany her to St Moritz, Switzerland, for a quick run-by-candlelight down the slopes, then Trieste, Italy, to attend one of her friends' birthday bash. They'd finally landed back in Vienna around 2pm.
Weiss went straight into his untouched bedroom, leaving the door half open in his hurry. While he took out a change of clothes and stripped out of his tuxedo, Sydney could hear him swearing revenge on her. He went on mumbling all the way to the shower he needed so badly after being on his feet for more than 18 hours straight (apparently, they'd danced on the plane too.)
In the common sitting room, Sydney couldn't help but smile.
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.*.*.
.*.*.
.*.*.
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Somewhere over the Atlantic
Present time
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Her report finally finished, Sydney briefly checked her email and turned off her laptop. Still pondering, she kept replaying last night's sequence of events and the unexpected feelings they'd stirred up in her. She sighed, too tired to think anymore after her battle to find some sleep.
"Fe' God'sake, jus' lie down 'n tak' a nap, Syd." Weiss slurred, barely coherent in his state of half awareness. "You makin' me nervous."
Startled out of her reverie by the very object of her thoughts, Sydney's eyes went from half-slits to wide-open. She caught herself and smiled to cover her confusion.
"Yeah, I guess I could use some rest too. I didn't sleep too well last night either." She confessed before she could catch herself. Damn… So much for trying to spare him the nuisance of her insomnia.
Sure enough, his tired eyes opened and he scrutinized her face. She had dark shadows under her eyes. It was a telltale sign he'd come to recognize as an indication she hadn't slept at all. He sighed. As annoyed as he had been at her last night for planting him there with Her Majesty Alicia, Weiss had figured out what Sydney was up to: she wanted to stake her independence. Over the past few weeks, they'd hardly spent an evening apart. And last night, Sydney had decided it was time for her to go home and find sleep by herself like a big girl.
That had worried him on two counts: first, he'd wondered if she thought he was too much in her face and she wanted to gently tell him to back off a little; second, he'd worried about how well she would sleep, if at all. Lately, the excitement of missions tended to keep her awake. It usually took much cajoling on his part for her to finally let herself slip into a semblance of rest. And thanks to her conniving ways, he wouldn't be around to help her when sleep eluded her.
It was good his feelings weren't easily hurt, he thought with a half smile, or he might have been upset that she was able to fall asleep so quickly in his arms. But as it were, he was just content that his presence helped her find some peace and rest from the demented life that was hers. He would never own up to it, but he'd grown accustomed to her form next to him. It felt very empty and worthless to waste some sleep without the weight of her head on his shoulder these days.
Right now, he could tell she would like nothing better than to rest, but it was too late for her to take a pill. And because of his terrible mood, and not-so-veiled threats of revenge for the stunt she'd pulled on him, she wasn't going to ask for what he knew she craved. With effort, he rose from his improvised bed to sit up, repositioned his makeshift pillow to support his back, and tapped the still-warm cushion next to him.
"Com'ere." He half-yawned.
"It's ok, Weiss. You don't have to do this." Her tone was a little clipped, as she grew slightly annoyed that he could read her so easily.
"Syd, I really don't want to get up from this nice warm spot and drag you back here Cro-Magnon style, but I will if you don't come and keep me company… please," he said, drunk with sleep and other undetermined substances he was forced to ingest earlier in the day that seemed to be catching up with him.
Keep him company? Sydney's eyes widened. In all the times that they'd fallen asleep in each other's arms, she'd never considered that he might depend as much on her as she did on him.
That gave her pause.
Finally, she just answered an "Okay," and she walked around the narrow white table that separated his seat from hers.
He'd already molded himself against the bunched up clothes at his back, and his left arm was outstretched, ready for her to take place in it.
She sat down and leaned into the inviting cushion his shoulder provided for her head. Out of habit, her hand came to rest across his chest. She let out a sigh of contentment. As always, her already foggy mind couldn't quite process why, as soon as she touched the reassuring solidity of his shoulder, she was overcome by a feeling of peacefulness. She got even closer to him when she felt his arm curl around her form and his hand rest on the small of her back. It wasn't long before they were both sound asleep, lulled by the muted purr of the airplane's engines.
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.*.*.
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A sudden noise jerked them out of their quiet slumber. Immediately alert, both of them sat up. It was only a moment before they realized the plane had simply landed a little hard and was now rolling towards the exit ramp. Both of them relaxed back into the seat, exchanging knowing glances as they laughed at their by-the-book reaction to the rough wake-up call. Finally, their laughs faded to faint smiles.
Then something shifted in the air.
They stood still, unable to avert their curious eyes from each other.
After what seemed like an eternity, Weiss's gaze glided slowly to her left. His right hand came up and, in a light caress, smoothed a few fussed-up strands of her hair back into place. Once. Twice. His breath was short but subdued as he strove to keep control over his runaway mind.
Without looking, he could feel the weight of her eyes on him as she watched intently. His chest contracted when she allowed her head to yield ever so slightly under the imagined pressure of his fingers.
Eventually, he let his hand fall back down. As he turned to look out the window, he said quietly: "I missed you last night."
An ancient, nameless emotion rekindled from deep within her heart. "Me too." She whispered, barely aware the words had passed her lips.
He looked back at her, convinced she was just being her usual nice self.
But her expression was unsure and so serious.
The sight of her sweet face drew him in. For an infinite second, his soft brown eyes looked down at her pale lips spread like a newly open rose bud. As he saw them tremble and part lightly under his gaze, he felt an overpowering urge to kiss her breath away.
"Folks, we're ready to disembark when you are," the Captain informed them as he passed through the only aisle of the short plane on his way to open the exit door, tactfully ignoring what was taking place between his two passengers.
At the rude interruption, both Sydney and Weiss moved back, an indefinable look on their faces. They quickly got up and gathered their belongings, stealing glances while carefully avoiding meeting each other's eyes.
The drive back to the office in the CIA-issued van was short and silent. When they arrived, all hell broke loose. It seemed Marshall had found some vital intel in one of the encoded files. Within the hour, Sydney had left with Vaughn on a recon mission in the Atlas Mountains of Algeria, where it was suspected that the Covenant housed its central operations.
She wasn't back for a full week.
She didn't sleep much.
Unbeknownst to her, neither did Weiss.
And in the dead of night, 8000 miles apart, both agents tried to ignore the fact that neither the stress of a highly dangerous mission, nor the worry it generated could make them forget the heart-stopping sensation of a soft hand weaving through a few strands of silky brown hair.
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tbc
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Next time, in Part 9: From Algeria, with love
It was Friday night before the long President's Day weekend, and Weiss had every intention of enjoying this mini-vacation...
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