Considering I'm publishing this story long after Alias has wrapped up and in a pairing that is non-traditional, I'm really glad to see that this story has some regular visitors. Thank you for reading! Second to last part of this story. Enjoy the ride... If you would kindly live a review, I'll be the happiest writer of them all! :-)

Part 9: From Algeria, with Love

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It was Friday night before the long President's Day weekend, and Weiss had every intention of enjoying this mini-vacation.

It had been some time since he'd had a bachelor's night all to himself, complete with ice-cold beer, Lime Tostitos and Mamacita Homemade Extra-Hot Salsa. There was more beer in the fridge, and several helpings of his personal favorite: Cincinnati Chili con Carne with dark cocoa and a dash of habanera for good measure. That was for later, during the second movie.

Right now, he was rediscovering the undeniable "qualities" Ursula Andres could display when she put her body to it. It was the scene where she emerged from the surf in that oh-so-hot white bikini that showed just enough to spark Weiss' adolescent fantasies anew. God, she was beautiful. Curvy in all the right places, with the perfect blend of sweetness and temerity.

Since he'd first watched "Dr. No" (and decided he'd be James Bond when he grew up), he'd been entranced by that little moment of cinematic heaven where his feminine ideal of the time had come out of the ocean like a modern siren. She was the natural heir to Wonder Woman and Barbarella, and that appealed to his comic book junkie side. She was a dream come true. The woman off the page, fleshed out from the drawing. He could almost touch her, smell her. Almost.

Weiss sighed contentedly as he took a swig of the Corona. There was a lot to be said for the classics. As Ursula laid down on the beach, her body bathed in sunlight and glistening with salty water drops, he let out an appreciative: "Oh yeah... Home sweet home." Eyes half closed, a barely disguised predatory smile playing on his lips, Weiss reveled in the delicious fantasy that had inhabited most of his mid-teens. Nothing like a trip down that particular memory lane to bring out his true self again.

And he needed that, right now. To remember who he was and what he wanted out of life. In fact, he planned on many more sessions this weekend to remind himself of what he stood for and believed in. "The Breakfast Club" for honesty and true friendship; "Mutiny on the Bounty" for team work and ethics. "Like Water for Chocolate" for general indie culture and sensual cooking tips. And finally, all of the first five seasons of the "X-files" for lessons in restraint towards attractive colleagues in the work environment.

That last one might have to play continuously for a while. He took another sip, his eyes straying away from Ursula just as Bond was about to compromise her virginal image.

Damn, he really didn't want to go down that road again.

He sighed. If Ursula, lemon Corona and Mamacita salsa weren't enough to distract him from those other thoughts, what the hell was he going to do?

He gave it another try. But his interest was lost, and soon after, he was brooding again over the "thing."

This couldn't go on. He had to get Sydney, her hair, her smiles, all of her out of his head. He couldn't be thinking of her this way.

Why was he doing this to himself? How could he even contemplate it? This infatuation was a bad idea on so many levels. It was obvious! Anything beyond friendship, any… relationship with her had disaster written all over it. It didn't matter how you looked at it. It was all wrong.

…Because despite what she said, she clearly wasn't over Mike. Because the two of them had unfinished business. Because she was Mike's ex-girlfriend. Because an Eric Weiss was best friend material, not dating material. Because she was sad and lonely, and he was there and willing. Because a friendship like theirs would only turn into something more in a Harlequin book. Because…

He buried his face in his hands for a moment. He sure knew how to pick them. In the World's Best Romance Flopathon, he had a shot at making it to the top. Roadie Girl, Guitar Girl, and now Spy Girl. Always reaching for the wrong gal who would abandon him in the end. And Syd? She was the best of them all. With her baggage, he could pick and choose one of a thousand ways a relationship with her would end. It ranged from suicide to going back to Mike, and it was all guarantied to be very painful.

Over the past week, with Vaughn and Syd gone, he'd had plenty of time to replay the "moment." Why he had let himself get so personal with her he couldn't fathom. He took pride in his smarts, and that move was probably the dumbest thing he'd done in his entire adult life.

Of course since that day, he'd come to recognize what he had been living in denial of 'til then.

That he was hopelessly falling for Sydney Bristow. That it was probably already too late to step back, and that, consequently, he was in real danger here. The danger of having his heart trampled on. And that couldn't happen. Because when others had problems with love, they'd come to him. But he didn't have anyone to talk to. Except Sydney and Mike… And therein laid the danger.

He glanced at the now tepid beer, the half-eaten chips and salsa. That was it. Just the thought of her had effectively sucked all the fun out his evening. Right now, he was so depressed even work felt like it would be a relief.

Suddenly determined, he got up, happy he hadn't yet changed out of his day clothes. He grabbed his jacket, keys and badge, forgetting his cell phone that was hidden behind the chips bowl. He took one last sip of beer, and headed out the door. If examining the latest data on the takedown of several key Covenant facilities didn't keep his mind busy enough, he could always hit the gym and agonize over lifting weights and outrunning the treadmill.

And if that wasn't enough, he could still come home, take a couple of pills and sleep it off.

Either way, he was going to obsess over something other than the proximity of his neighbor, Agent Sydney Bristow, who had just come back from a week-long assignment and would probably be in her apartment any minute now.

He could endure the daydreams, the unbidden thoughts, even the sickeningly sweet sighs and goofy smiles he couldn't always control. But he didn't think he could handle meeting the object of his thoughts and trust himself not to kiss her the very moment he saw her.

At least, not until he'd exhausted his body enough that sleep would be the only thing on his mind.

.*.*.

.*.*.

.*.*.

When he got in the Rotunda, Weiss could tell something was happening. It was 7:30pm on a Friday night before a long weekend. But there were still a bunch of people milling around as if nothing was the matter. Undoubtedly a repercussion of the Algerian op.

As he approached his desk, he caught a glimpse of a familiar silhouette. Vaughn was still here, probably wrapping up the debriefing.

Weiss quickly scanned around. No Sydney in sight. At least he was safe from that awkwardness.

From the other side of the room, Vaughn caught his attention and started walking towards him.

"Hey, Eric, what are you doing here at this hour?"

"Hey. Nothing, just…getting a head start on the most boring long weekend of the year," he said while sitting at his desk. "You?"

"We just finished the debrief. I'm going to head home…" Vaughn's brow furrowed. "Oh, did you see Sydney? She was looking for you earlier. It seemed important. Something about finalizing the report on your Vienna mission?"

Weiss' brow furrowed a little, not sure what this was all about. "Uh, no, haven't seen her." Keeping the worry out of his voice and innocently shuffling paper on his desk, he asked. "Is she still around?"

"No. She went home a little while ago," Vaughn confirmed. "Maybe she thought she'd find you at your place. She seemed very intent on closing up that report," Vaughn added, joking slightly.

Weiss breathed out a small sigh of relief at the close call.

As Eric missed his cue to joke back about Sydney's obsession for expediting paperwork, Vaughn observed his friend briefly. "Are you ok, Eric? You… don't seem so great…"

"I'm fine." Weiss lied, looking up at Mike to reassure him with a quick smile. "Really."

Vaughn looked at him some more, sensing something was out of sorts with his friend. Which reminded him of an incident earlier in the week…

"Hey listen, I wondered if you knew… um…" He stopped, slightly uncomfortable to pump his friend for information, then started again. "Sydney and I had plenty of time to talk during the mission." He smiled in that painful way he did every time he talked about her. "We… We've come to an agreement. And she's decided to move on…" he said somewhat dejectedly. But he caught himself. "…Which is great. For her…" His voice trailed, his thoughts getting lost in the labyrinth of old and new feelings. "Anyway, we were talking one night, and I got the feeling that she might have someone new in her life… Do you, do you know anything about this? Who this guy is?"

As Weiss remained frozen, Vaughn added: "I… I know what you're thinking, and it's not that, I promise you. I want her to be happy. I really do. And I know it's not going to be with me now… But she seemed so distracted. She wouldn't say anything, but I could tell something was bothering her. I just want to make sure she doesn't, you know… end up with some jerk out of desperation or misjudgment." He finished, worry etched in the lines barring his forehead.

Weiss' eyes widened at what his friend just implied. Who the hell did he think he was, that Sydney couldn't get over him without ending up with a degenerate?

"Look, Mike, I know rebound relationships aren't the best... But give the girl some credit, man! And get over yourself while you're at it. She's gonna be fine. She's Sydney. She dodges bullets for a living. She sure can dodge a guy or two…"

"It's not rebound." Vaughn stated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"What?" Weiss stared at him, not understanding.

"She's already done that." Vaughn looked down, uneasy. "She… She told me she slept with Will."

Again, Weiss remained silent, stunned by the news. Thinking he wasn't remembering , Vaughn added: "Will Tippin, her frien…"

"Yeah, I know who Will is." Weiss countered, his voice clipped… Well, she did say she'd done something to prove to herself that she was over Vaughn…

At the tension in Weiss' tone, Vaughn scrutinized his friend's face. He'd probably been too preoccupied to notice earlier, but Eric looked tired. Two dark circles under his eyes suggested little or no sleep. Come to think of it, he seemed rather subdued, which in and of itself told him that something was really affecting him.

The more he looked at Eric, the more details he observed: the three-day stubble; the fact that he was constantly fidgeting as if he were uncomfortable. What a contrast in just a week. Over the last couple of months, Vaughn had noticed how relaxed and happy Weiss seemed to be. He'd even teased him about it and asked if the lucky gal was anyone he knew. Weiss had given him an odd look and laughed it off with this mysterious remark: "Nah, I've just been sleeping better."

At the time, Vaughn had felt a little hurt that the man he'd long considered his best friend didn't trust him enough anymore to confide in him about his love life. He figured, in his own way, Weiss was trying to protect him by not parading his present bliss. So he'd left it at that.

Then he'd gone to Algeria for a long grueling week. The mission had been very tough, with long hours of surveillance in rough terrain. They'd been lucky enough to scout a deep cave that gave them relief from the elements and allowed one of them to eat and rest while the other continued to watch over the movements in the Covenant's complex. Unfortunately, Sydney hadn't been able to sleep…

Vaughn's train of thought came to a screeching halt, as if it had hit a snag that stopped it dead in its tracks. He looked at Weiss who was turning his computer on. Then he looked to the right at Sydney's desk and her empty chair.

He looked back at Weiss.

Weiss who definitely looked exhausted.

His friend's rumpled appearance reminded him of himself, back in the SD-6 days, when he wouldn't sleep at all while Sydney was on a particularly dangerous assignment… Just like the one she had been on this past week.

Weiss hadn't slept.

She couldn't sleep *either*…

Suddenly, like pieces of a puzzle assembling before his eyes, Vaughn started putting two and two together. Weiss, Sydney, neighbors. Weiss unattached. Sydney lovely and vulnerable. Friendship. Missions together. And Sydney immediately upon their return asking for Weiss under a pretext and going home, presumably to…

God, had he been so blinded by his own grief at losing her forever that he hadn't even noticed the glaring clues on display? Memories of moments he'd observed between Eric and Sydney came back at once: shared jokes, hugs, rides to and from home, fond glances, secret conversations and smiles… He'd seen it all, but had chalked it up to the renewal of their friendship… 'til now.

And now, he wasn't sure if he was angry, or relieved, or what the hell he was thinking.

Weiss had returned to the papers on his desk and was copiously ignoring him…

"You…" Vaughn murmured. "It was you."

"Me what?" Weiss asked distractedly.

Vaughn paused a second, remembering under what pretext Sydney had asked to talk to Eric. "Something happened during the mission in Vienna, didn't it?"

As Weiss looked up with a startled expression on his face, Vaughn knew he'd hit the nail right on the head. "What was it? Did you have a fight? She couldn't sleep in Algeria… Nothing would do. I mean, she's had insomnia in the past, but never like that. She said she'd left the only thing that worked at home… What happened? How long have you two…?"

"We haven't! There is nothing, alright? And there's not gonna be, ever. We became a little too friendly, but that stopped before we could regret anything." Weiss sighed in frustration. "For god's sake, Mike, she still loves you, can't you see it?

"I'm not so sure about that..." Vaughn started.

"Well, I am. She's told me all about how she misses you and she's not sure she can go on without you."

"But she was finally finding sleep again…"

"Yeah, she was sleeping every time I sta…" Weiss stopped, berating himself for letting on to more than he wanted to.

Vaughn didn't say anything at first, as he was digesting the confirmation of what he'd begun to suspect. He was pained, of course, and this would take time to sort out. But above all, he thought he should clear up something that was all too evident to himself now, but not to Weiss.

"She couldn't sleep for the whole week, Eric." He looked his friend straight in the eye to drive his point home. "And there wasn't a damn thing *I* could do about it…"

Weiss stared at his friend, taking in what he had just said.

"She may still love me, but…" Vaughn paused, hurt by the admission. "… She's not in love with me anymore."

Weiss blinked a couple of times at this new development. But then he shook his head.

"It still doesn't change anything. I couldn't do this to you, Mike. I may not look it, but I follow some rules of conduct. And Thy shalt not covet thine ex-partner ex-girlfriend ranks pretty high right now."

"She's not mine anymore. And you don't owe me anything. Besides," he started, trying to inject some levity in their exchange, "you haven't set foot in a synagogue in twenty years. What the hell are you doing paraphrasing the Old Testament?"

That got a snicker out of Eric. "Yeah… Me, the unbeliever…" He sobered up quickly, though. "What I can't believe is that we're even having this conversation… This is unreal."

Vaughn smirked briefly, the mirth never reaching his troubled eyes. "Go home, Eric. She's probably waiting for you right now."

Weiss looked up, uncertain. "How can you be ok with this? And don't tell me she's not yours anymore, 'cause I know better…"

"She's not!" Vaughn protested, getting a little angry at his friend's insistence. "Look, if you're not sure about how you feel, then don't go. But don't put the blame on me because you don't have the guts to go through with it." He lowered his voice. "A minute ago, when I understood what was happening, I was thinking back to the times I've seen the two of you together lately… Look, she's going to move on anyway. She already has! And…" He tried to ignore the constriction in his throat. "…I'd prefer it be with someone I respect and trust rather than someone I don't." He finished, looking down at his shoes as his emotions caught up with him.

As Weiss stayed silent, he added: "Go. I'll be fine. Really. I have another life now. I could never have destroyed that, all of our hopes, to make room for a ghost from my past. No matter how painful…" His voice choked on the words. "I'm not gonna lie to you. Every day, I wish I could go back. Every day. But," he finished with renewed energy, "that time has come and gone. Come on, go home. She won't sleep until you get there… You know that."

"Neither will I." Weiss whispered, looking at Vaughn with emotion. He got up, closed the distance between them and briefly pressed Mike in a heartfelt hug. He stood back, not knowing what to do with his hands. "I'm sorry, Mike. I really am." He said in a choked-up voice.

"Just… Don't hurt her, or I'd have to kill you, ok?" Vaughn looked down, not completely sure his sentence didn't hold some truth.

"Never even crossed my mind."

"I know…" Vaughn reassured him.

Weiss quickly gathered his keys and badge, and with one last look of profound gratitude to his friend, he headed back to the parking lot and home.

.*.*.

.*.*.

.*.*.

Sydney had barely left the Ops Center when she was dialing #2 on her cell. One. Two. Three rings. "Hey, this is Eric's artificial brain. The shortest messages are the sweetest! You know the drill." Beeeep. "Hey Weiss, it's me. I've just come back. I'm heading home right now. I'll drop by in a few… if that's ok." She hesitated, uncertain she would still be welcome to drop by any time as she had been just last week. "Um… I'll see you then." And she hung up.

It had been 7 days since the trip back from Vienna, but it felt like a century had passed. A testing time of reflection, longing, and undefined hopes that troubled her so much that she'd hardly slept more than an hour a day.

Back at the Ops Center, Vaughn had insisted he should drive her home since she was so tired, but she'd found a pretext to sneak out on him. No need to complicate things any further.

Over the past week, she'd come to terms, excruciating as it was, with the fact that her feelings for Vaughn had slowly mutated into a profound fondness mixed with regret and sorrow. She'd talked to him about it. A little. It wasn't easy. Even though her feelings weren't as intense anymore, his proximity always elated a twinge of the old desire and love. She wasn't sure that would ever disappear. And in a way, she didn't want it to.

Despite how things had turned out, Vaughn was, after all, the first man she'd truly loved with all her being. She'd had loves and lovers before, but none, not even her relation with Danny, had reached the level of passion she had felt for Michael.

Was it because they'd had to hide for so long, or maybe because of the danger, the excitement, and the very fact that, for the first time, she didn't have to lie about who she was? It could have been the way his green eyes reached into her soul, or the infinite care, respect, and trust he had shown her. Perhaps it was the many times he had gone to extremes to save her life. Maybe it had just been fate.

Whatever the cause, she knew Vaughn would always have the power to make her weak in the knees with one look. He would always be the one person who could pick up the phone and she'd be there to help before the conversation was over. Even the anger she had felt after she discovered he was married couldn't destroy the unique connection they shared. And from her conversations with him over the past week, she could tell he felt the same tug towards her.

She smiled, her eyes slightly misty as she thought back to the heart-to-heart she and Vaughn had had, one night of shared insomnia. It had been sweet, and quite tearful as they mourned the loss of their love.

That night was the one when Sydney finally realized the two most important things of her life so far: love comes under many different guises; and when it presents itself, you must have the courage to recognize it, the will to nourish it with all your soul and the faith to hope it'll last enough to be remembered with joy and not sorrow.

As she approached her building, she thought back to the long hours she had spent staring out into the darkness of the Algerian cave surrounding her. Images of her old life would replay before her tired eyes: happiness, pain, violence, love, sadness, faces, familiar or not. It was like a kaleidoscopic merry-go-round.

In the end, exhausted and depressed, she would doze off for an hour, sometimes two. It was then that the images finally stopped their dance and a few trusted faces would emerge: her father, her mom sometimes, Vaughn looking like he had when he was her handler, Will, Francie, and Weiss.

A couple of nights passed before she noticed that Eric had somehow made it into this very select group that constituted her only family. Since Vienna, a fundamental change had taken place in their relationship. It had been growing steadily for a few weeks, and in a way, for a few months before that. And it had culminated in the instant when the intense look of desire on his usually relaxed features proved they'd crossed the fine line they'd carefully stayed away from in the weeks before.

After this epiphany, the last few nights in the Atlas Mountains went by a little easier. Fatigue had a way of clearing out anything non-essential. The images became that of shared moments, of the gentle manner in which Eric had slowly chipped away at her loneliness, and his strong presence when she was at her lowest…

Her insomnia had turned to daydreams where she would smile in the dark, as she relived scenes where she'd noticed the warm way in which he looked at her. In retrospect, she even remembered several occasions where she'd had to suppress a shiver born from his staring at her, or the sensation of his hand on her arm or at the small of her back. She'd attributed it to her lack of human contact then. Denial was a beautiful thing.

No possible denial now: this was her moment of truth. And the truth was that she was inching her way to being smitten over her new partner. She couldn't use the "L" word just yet. But she wouldn't discount using it in the future.

When her exhausted mind would finally give into a few minutes of dreamless rest, it was always on Eric's shoulder she imagined her head resting. At times, she could have sworn she felt his fingers softly caressing her hair as they did whenever she slept in his arms. He didn't know she was aware of it. She'd been careful not to let on that she would sometimes wake up enough to realize what was happening around her. He'd have stopped, and she didn't wanted him to. To her, that simple gesture showed such a pure expression of selfless caring that it sometimes brought tears to her eyes. Harmony with nothing to mar its perfection...

Sydney parked in the lot behind their small building and got out of the car. Swiftly, she walked into the lobby and took the stairs up, too impatient to wait for the elevator. Two stories higher, she emerged in their hallway, anxious to reach the other end and knock on Eric's door.

When she got there, she paused, hesitant to find out how she would be received after their ill-timed separation, a week ago. Breathing deeply, she raised her hand and knocked. Knocked again.

No answer.

There was no light under the door. No sounds coming through. She hadn't spotted his car earlier.

He wasn't home.

Slowly, she turned back and headed to her apartment, all the while wondering why he had left the office early, as she'd been told, if it wasn't to come home and prepare one of their evenings. Another explanation was that he'd decided they should keep their distance after all, and that's what he was doing.

Worry etched on her forehead, she turned the key to unlock her place, and quietly closed the wood panel behind her slightly hunched-over form.

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tbc

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Next time, in Part 10, the conclusion of The Sleep of the Just: Rapid Eye Movement

"I had a dream that you slept through your entire life, only to wake up and declare there was nothing as beautiful as reality..."

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