love, or something like it

Welcome to the latest edition of Love, or Something Like It.

A/N: Man, I hate the title now, I sure wish I could change it. :confused: Well, anywho, let's get on to why you all are really here...



Vaughn watched Weiss' car until it vanished around a corner behind the thick forest. He sighed heavily and turned back toward the house. He was startled to see Sydney in the doorway, watching him. She looked up at him and smiled.

"You know, I didn't get a chance to thank you," she said, idly running her finger over the door handle.

"Syd-"

"No, I'm serious Vaughn. What you did for me... I could have...and, I just-well, I wanted to..." She struggled with the words, and couldn't look at him. She removed her finger from the door handle and hugged herself. Why can't I just open up to him? she thought.

"Sydney, you know that I would have-"

"Vaughn, listen, there's no way that I could ever repay you for what you did for me, what you always do for me. You're always there when I need you, but I can't say that I'm always there for you, and I-" she was rambling now. Get to the point! she reprimanded herself mentally.

"Syd, I know," he said simply, as he approached her, "you don't have to tell me. I already know."

"But-"

"No Syd. You repay me every time you smile at me, every time you rely on me, whenever you laugh, and your eyes do that...that thing, that gives me goosebumps. You've repaid me for fifty lifetimes," Vaughn proclaimed, now standing right in front of her.

"Goosebumps?" was all she could muster, she was so utterly speechless.

He flashed a smile and agreed, saying, "Yeah, every time."

"I get them too," she admitted, "whenever you run your hands through your hair."

He seemed pleased. "Really?" he asked, surprised. He ran his fingers through his hair, in mock Fabio-fashion. "You find it, sexy, do you?" he asked, flexing his muscles.

"As a matter of fact-"

He stopped her, grabbing her shoulder. To her, it felt like a bolt of electricity ran through her body, but she was worried when she saw Vaughn's expression. Something behind her had caught his eye. He extracted his gun from his back pocket and pulled Sydney towards him. "Don't move, you son-of-a-bi**" he uttered, holding his gun steady.

"Don't be so hasty to shoot me, Agent Vaughn," replied the questionable Sark, no weapon drawn. "You do want to know where your father is, don't you?"
 
wait wait wait wait wait! this is the end!!>!?!?!? and sark juss walked through the door!?!?!? and vaughn and syd!>?!?!!?!? wait!!! u cant stop there!!!! ahhh!!!
 
:jawdrop: :cuss: :banghead: :angry: <_< :madfire: :angry2: I hate Sark!!!!! He should just die, along with Will!! He always has to ruin things, doesn' he?? You have to post more!! ASAP!!

~Shammi~ :love:
 
OMG!!!!!! Write more, this is great. The characters are so real. I can't believe I didn't see this till now. I read it all, and it's great. Post more!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
 
Vaughn couldn't, and didn't believe what he was hearing. There was no way...his dad was gone, killed by Sydney's mom years ago. He couldn't be...

"Who are you?!" Vaughn roared, the first thing he could think of.

"The name's Matthew, Matthew Sark," he replied cooly, smiling wrly at the two's baffled expressions. He repeated his question, "You would like to know where your father is, wouldn't you?"

Sydney now had the dead Sark's gun drawn. "Why should we even believe that you're telling the truth? I'm sure you're just as evil and heartless as your..." she trailed.

"Ah yes, my brother. Stupid, he was. He, ironically, fell flat on his face in love with you," said Matthew, gliding expertly over to his late brother's form. He bent down saying to him, "You stupid, stupid boy." He patted him on his lifeless cheek and stood up again.

Matthew glanced at Sydney, saying, "I personally don't see what he saw in you."

A dull click-click sounded from Vaughn's gun. "Do not talk to her that way."

"You might want to be careful with that gun, Agent Vaughn," said Matthew, grinning again. "I, unlike my unfortunate brother, am not stupid. There are, oh, I'd estimate six high-powered rifles trained on both of you right now." He kept on smiling. Sydney could tell that Vaughn was becoming extremely ancy.

"Well, I'll only ask you once more, do you want to know your father's whereabouts or do you just want me to say the word and have you both dead before you even hit the ground?"

That smile is getting extremely annoying thought Sydney.

"I'm going to blow your head off you stupid piece of-"

"Now really, Agent Bristow, there's no need for swearing," said Matthew coyly. "If you'll just come with me," he gestured toward a car that had appeared out of nowhere, "there will be no problem."

"Unlike you or your brother, I'm not a complete lunatic. I will never, ever set foot in a vehicle going to God knows where with you!" Sydney retorted, losing her temper.

Why can't the Sark family line have a collective fatal heart attack and all go to hell where they belong? Sydney pondered irrationally.

"Very well," he said simply, pulling out a gun so fast and firing that neither one had time to react. Sydney only had time to see blood gushing from Vaughn's head and him collapse to the floor before she was grabbed by someone, and blacked out.
 
::maojor gasp:: U SHOT VAUGHN IN THE HEAD!!!!!!!!!! U SHOT VAUGHN IN THE HEAD!!!!! U...U....U SHOT VAUGHN IN THE HEAD!!!!!!! HOW COULD U!?!?!!?!?! HOW!?!?!?!!AHK!
 
You shot Vaughn?!?!? :blink: You can't do that! Your story is amazing, but now you have to post the next part right away so we know what happens. Evil cliffhangers... ^_^
~kate
 
Ditto, how could you he cant did i want vaughn to live. You cant just kill him thats like killing Syd in the middle of the season! Sad!
~ASH~
 
[A/N: All righty, here's the deal- don't freak out. Let's leave it at- I'm having a Brittany Murphy moment... "I'll never te-ell!" (kidding, kidding. Let's just say, Vaughn lovers, no need to worry.)]

Sydney awoke, pain shooting through her body. She squinted against the bright light bouncing off of the white walls that surrounded her. Where am I? she thought.

Then, she flashed back to...what was his name? Matthew, Sark's brother. That's right.
She could barely remember a thing. How long have I been out? she wondered. She felt odd, like she existed outside herself somehow. Like she had just gotten up and had a MAJOR head-rush, that didn't go away. Her body tingled, and her left pinky was twitching. What did he do to me?

She was dressed all in white, chained to a white chair, that was bonded to the floor. She was twenty feet from everything. No possible escape. Her captor definitely was not Giovanni. He was smart. Even smarter than his brother, who had held her captive in Vaughn's villa, surrounded by things that could have aided her escape.

Here, there was complete and utter nothingness.

No door, no vents. How am I breathing? How'd I even get in here? Am I dreaming? Thoughts swirled in her aching head, the light from the room was blinding, although she couldn't find the source. Her left pinky continued to twitch. She wanted to cry, but no tears would come. She felt empty, hollow.

Then she remembered Vaughn.

A sob rose in her throat. She remembered the blood, the way he just crumpled, like a disgarded piece of notebook paper.

She continued to cry her tearless lamentation until music began to play. Softly at first, then it became louder and louder, deafening.

Very superstitious
Writing's on the wall
Very superstitious
Letter's bout to fall

Thirteen month old baby
Broke the looking glass
Seven years of bad luck
The good things in your past

When you believe in things
That you don't understand
And you suffer
Superstition ain't the way

"Stevie Wonder?" Syd rasped, she could barely speak.

Very superstitious
Wash your face and hands
Let me go the problem
Do all that you can

Keep me in a daydream
Keep me going strong
You don't wanna save me
Sad is my song

When you believe in things
You don't understand
And you suffer
Superstition ain't the way

"Why are you doing this?" Sydney whispered to no one, barely audible. The song merely continued:

Very superstitious
Nothing more to say
Very superstitious
The devil's on his way

Thirteen month old baby
Broke the looking glass
Seven years of bad luck
Good things in your past

When you believe in things
That you don't understand
And you suffer
Superstition ain't the way

Sydney half expected the song to continue on and on, but it just stopped. And left absolute silence.

She then continued to sob, her shoulders heaving. Surely this was a dream. This place was an awful quasi-heaven, white and silent. She continued to try to convince her brain that she was dreaming, but the sharp pains that persisted to torture her body assured her that this was most definitely not a dream.

Unexpectedly, three lines appeared in the wall as a door opened. How could I have not seen that door there? Sydney marveled, in utter shock.

There stood Matthew.

"You," Sydney whispered, trying to lift her head high, to show him she wasn't afraid.

"Yes," he said, grinning from ear to ear.

"What kind of sick, perverted lunatic enjoys other people's pain?" Sydney managed; long sentences were not a good thing right now.

"I do," he said simply, sparking another smirk.

"If you don't wipe that smile off your face," Sydney rasped, sucking in her breath, "I'll be happy to wipe it off for you."

"Oh, Agent Bristow. Empty threats will do you no good. You've got more drugs pumped in your system than an addict," Matthew retorted.

He was right. No wonder she felt so strangely. She glanced down at her pinky, which was still twitching away.

"Why did you just play that song?" she asked, her voice seeming to come back, little by little.

"Ah...in good time," he said, looking pensive. With that, he turned on his heel, and walked out the door. As he was walking out, Sydney could see a blue hallway, and a man walk by, shackled and surrounded by guards.

"Vaughn?!" Sydney yelled, as loud as she could. It only came out as a whisper. The door closed, without a sound, the three lines disappeared and seemed to melt back into the wall.

And Sydney was left, alone and hollow, watching her left pinky twitch.
 
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