Note: This fic was written for the Valentine's Day fan fic challenge.
TITLE:Death of a Cynic
AUTHOR: me ie. jess
DISCLAIMER: Don’t own it. Don’t sue. All belongs to J.J. Abrams & Co.
RATING: PG...eh, G, it’s a clean fic.
SHIP:S/V
SPOILERS: Set in season 3.
SUMMARY: Sydney's thoughts during Valentine’s Day.
A/N: I wrote this for the Valentine’s fanfic challenge. I must apologize for the title, I was having a major writer’s block and that’s the best I could come up with. Hope you enjoy!
“The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved.” – Victor Hugo
‘To my angel, you are my one and only, you are my everything.’
“Empty words.” I think out aloud, “It isn’t romantic, it’s kinda cheesy.” I scoff cynically at the clichéd personal ads dominating today’s newspaper, carelessly tossing the paper on the coffee table.
I return to my half eaten tub of double-fudge-mint-chocolate ice cream, gazing out the window to see the streetlamps illuminate patches of the dark street and the moon glow reflecting off the polished surfaces of parked cars. My apartment is bathed in comfortable stillness, sounds of normalcy wafting in from a distance occasionally interrupting the serenity but I do not notice as my mind is elsewhere.
Valentine’s Day…Alone on Valentine’s Day…
I hate Valentine’s Day.
Honestly, Valentine’s Day is a farce; it is one of the biggest commercial gimmicks created by ridiculously rich corporate owners who insist the only way to express one’s love is through money. Of course, they proclaim this fallacy with such conviction and charm because they are reaping all the profits. So, the majority of society spends a whole month’s worth of pay to buy over-priced gifts while the remaining people buy comfort food, rent all the romantic comedies available and spend the whole day reminding themselves that they don’t need to be loved to be happy.
Yeah, that’s me. I bought every flavour of ice cream available at the convenience store, made the pubescent, pimply, plump video store clerk struggle by renting half the store, and now I sit alone in my apartment remembering that the man I love is spending all his money on another woman.
Damn.
I finished the double-fudge-mint-chocolate ice cream.
I sigh heavily, wallowing in my solace, detesting the fact that I am alone on the most romantic day of the year. I finally will my apathetic body into movement as I stand up from my comfortable spot on the couch to retrieve a new tub of ice cream. Shuffling slowly into the kitchen I glance up to the clock hanging in the hallway informing me that it is half past seven. I rummage through the refrigerator; finally I settle on the cookies-and-cream flavoured ice cream and quickly grab a glass of water before returning to the living room.
‘Vaughn loves cookies-and-cream ice cream’ I remind myself causing me to cringe inwardly, my face twisting in pain as an old, emotional wound re-opens. Another sigh escapes my lips as I realize that I have eaten two tubs of ice cream, watched five consecutive movies and thought about Vaughn endlessly since nine o’clock this morning.
I am the ideal consumer on Valentine’s Day: lonely, unrequited love, desperate to show feelings. Why not say ‘I love you’ to that special someone with a special heartfelt personal in the paper? If words are not enough, why not send a bouquet of roses, or maybe a box of exquisite chocolates, or perhaps giving your loved one a memorable, passionate kiss?
The corporate owners never thought someone could be in love with a person who is happily married to another woman because he thought that the love of his life had perished in a fire.
Do you think they make a Valentine’s Day card for that?
However, what the corporate owners have failed to realize or maybe are too ignorant to acknowledge is that love…true love…is sacred. Chocolate does not stimulate the same sensation of ecstasy of a kiss…a dozen roses does not emulate the elation of falling asleep in the arms of that special someone…words in a card cannot explain the phenomenon of seeing your past, present, and future in one person.
‘Yeah, I know that kind of love.’ I think solemnly, but quickly correct myself, ‘No, I knew that kind of love.’
I hate Valentine’s Day.
They should make a badge. They have birthday badges: ‘I’m eight!’ or something similar. There should be one for Valentine’s Day: ‘I hate Valentine’s Day don’t ask me why.’ Sure it wouldn’t be as popular as flowers, chocolates and stuffed animals but at least people who are not loved and do not have a Valentine’s date are considered…me included.
I forlornly gaze out the window again, silently berating myself for being so bitter about an occasion that I once treasured. Taking a glimpse at the time I realize that half an hour has passed by without my acknowledgement, the time resting now on eight o’clock. I try to hinder thoughts of Vaughn invading my mind but I succumb in futility knowing that I have been thinking of him all day. I envision Vaughn and Lauren enjoying a delectable dinner at a luxurious restaurant, gazing into one another’s eyes and incessantly interrupting the dinner with ‘I love you’ and other loving words.
My love life parallels all those romantic comedies with one exception my life isn’t all that romantic…more emphasis on the comedy…my life is a joke. Who loses two years of their life and wakes up in a filthy, miserable alley in a foreign country?
“Speaking of jokes,” I think out aloud, breaking the silence of my apartment, “where’s Weiss?” After a few moments of pondering a smile creeps along me lips as I remember Weiss explaining his plans for Valentine’s Day to me yesterday.
***Flashback***
“Hey Syd.” I tear my gaze away from the computer screen to see Weiss leaning on my desk with a friendly smile.
“Hey,” A smile also gracing my face, “what’s up?”
“Dixon wants us in the conference room for a quick debrief.” Weiss explains while twirling his keys around his index finger absentmindedly.
“Okay.” I stand up and retrieve my suit jacket from the back of my chair before following Weiss to the conference room. “So, what are you doing tomorrow?” I ask curiously, knowing Weiss is as successful as me in getting a date these days.
“Oh, Valentine’s Day” Weiss returns his keys to his pocket and continues talking, “never liked the occasion.” I smirk at his comment glad to know that I am not alone in despising Valentine’s Day but I stay silent sensing he wants to say more. “However, this year is different,” Weiss states cryptically, raising his eyebrows suspiciously, “this year I have a date.”
Weiss’ comment stops me in my tracks leaving him walking down the hallway alone until he finally notices the lack of my presence, causing him to retrace his steps to where I am standing flabbergasted. His face contorts in bewilderment; my lack of explanation piques his curiosity, but before he can interrogate me I speak. “You have a date?”
“If you tried to act not surprised you did a good job.” Weiss states sarcastically. “Why is so hard to believe for everyone that I can actually get a date once in awhile?”
“I wasn’t surprised.” I try to reason but Weiss sees right through me and gives me a knowing look. “Okay, maybe a little. I was going to invite you to my place to eat junk food and watch movies since we both have the day off.”
“Oh, sorry I would love to but I made plans already…obviously.” Weiss states sheepishly.
“No that’s okay.” I rush to counter, silently disappointed that I will be spending Valentine’s Day alone but I do not expose my disappointment to Weiss. “So, you have a date, huh?” Continuing the conversation, I sound considerably more cheery and prod Weiss in revealing details about his personal life. “Anyone I know?”
Weiss hesitates slightly and it doesn’t take a CIA agent to know that he is considering lying but decides against it knowing about my interrogation skills. “Actually, I’m spending the day with my mum.” Weiss blushes furiously causing me to smile sweetly at his sincerity. “Don’t tell anyone though. All the guys think I have a hot date.” Weiss hastily adds before turning away and blushing furiously again.
“Just when I thought I had you figured out.” I pat Weiss reassuringly as we continue the journey to the conference room.
***End Flashback***
I sigh heavily, sinking into the couch further, feeling significantly better thanks to Weiss’ quirkiness. Since Weiss is unavailable I contemplate calling my dad but I remember his insistence to work overtime even though he has been working tirelessly to resolve the mystery surrounding my disappearance. I thought my return from the ‘dead’ would result in more quality time with my dad but that has yet to happen.
My mood slowly becomes melancholic and I reach for the remote control lying among an array of videos on the coffee table, I begin channel surfing to entertain my mind but it is in vain as my mind is still heavily occupied by weighty thoughts.
‘I miss Francie’ I try to hold back the tears but surrender allowing trails of sorrow to stain my face. After more than two years of her death, I still mourn the lost of my best friend knowing that her presence in my life is irreplaceable. I wish Francie were here so we could spend Valentine’s Day together. We would recount tragic dates, share past Valentine’s presents received and finally rectify our gloomy mood by having a romantic comedy movie marathon.
‘I miss Will.’ My tears subside with the comfort of knowing that Will is alive and safe, but I am still enveloped in despair. If Will were here he would be obediently listening to Francie and me taking turns to reiterate our stories, intermittently interrupting with a sarcastic comment showing his boredom but silently enjoying the anecdotes.
My moment of reminiscing is disrupted by soft knocking at the door. Puzzlement shows on my face as I search my mind for who could possibly be at the door. My mind races through the usual suspects but after confirming their improbability I am left with a visitor without a face or name.
Turning off the television, I rise from the couch and cautiously approach my front door; my instincts advising me to reach for my pistol hidden in my bedroom just in case. Waiting for a few moments the door lays dormant, no knocking or any other sounds can be heard beyond the threshold so I warily open the door slightly with my pistol poised.
Wine. Roses. Card.
The bundle sitting obediently on my doorstep catches me off-guard and I gawk in disbelief. My mind fumbles at receiving such a romantic gesture that it takes a few minutes to register that I am pointing my pistol at the inoffensive package, ready to take it into custody and imprison it in the CIA cell for interrogation.
No wonder why I never received a home warming gift from the neighbours.
I hastily holster my pistol and clumsily pick up the innocuous gift, amazed that after moping about the lack of attention bestowed on me on the most romantic day of the year I am presented with a generous gift. I stand on my doorstep letting my eyes survey the contents of the gift; the freshly cut roses, the expensive red wine and the elegant card nestled between the two. Carefully, I pick up the card, seeing it has my name written neatly on the envelope, I remove the card.
To love is to receive a glimpse of heaven.
- Your Guardian Angel
Tears spring into my eyes and for the first time since my return from Hong Kong my tears are borne out of pure joy…pure love.
I return the card to its place and retreat into my abode with a genuine, euphoric, dimpled smile adorning my face. But with the tears of happiness blurring my vision I fail to notice the pair of sharp, jade eyes gazing at me from a distance.
Even though I did not see the owner of the mysterious, emerald eyes I know that the bearer of the gift is the only person who can see my soul…can touch my soul…can complete my soul.
I love Valentine’s Day.
Fin.
*~*~*~*~*
So, what do you guys think? And thanks for reading. ^_^
Edited to add: the quote in the card is by Karen Sunde
TITLE:Death of a Cynic
AUTHOR: me ie. jess
DISCLAIMER: Don’t own it. Don’t sue. All belongs to J.J. Abrams & Co.
RATING: PG...eh, G, it’s a clean fic.
SHIP:S/V
SPOILERS: Set in season 3.
SUMMARY: Sydney's thoughts during Valentine’s Day.
A/N: I wrote this for the Valentine’s fanfic challenge. I must apologize for the title, I was having a major writer’s block and that’s the best I could come up with. Hope you enjoy!
“The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved.” – Victor Hugo
‘To my angel, you are my one and only, you are my everything.’
“Empty words.” I think out aloud, “It isn’t romantic, it’s kinda cheesy.” I scoff cynically at the clichéd personal ads dominating today’s newspaper, carelessly tossing the paper on the coffee table.
I return to my half eaten tub of double-fudge-mint-chocolate ice cream, gazing out the window to see the streetlamps illuminate patches of the dark street and the moon glow reflecting off the polished surfaces of parked cars. My apartment is bathed in comfortable stillness, sounds of normalcy wafting in from a distance occasionally interrupting the serenity but I do not notice as my mind is elsewhere.
Valentine’s Day…Alone on Valentine’s Day…
I hate Valentine’s Day.
Honestly, Valentine’s Day is a farce; it is one of the biggest commercial gimmicks created by ridiculously rich corporate owners who insist the only way to express one’s love is through money. Of course, they proclaim this fallacy with such conviction and charm because they are reaping all the profits. So, the majority of society spends a whole month’s worth of pay to buy over-priced gifts while the remaining people buy comfort food, rent all the romantic comedies available and spend the whole day reminding themselves that they don’t need to be loved to be happy.
Yeah, that’s me. I bought every flavour of ice cream available at the convenience store, made the pubescent, pimply, plump video store clerk struggle by renting half the store, and now I sit alone in my apartment remembering that the man I love is spending all his money on another woman.
Damn.
I finished the double-fudge-mint-chocolate ice cream.
I sigh heavily, wallowing in my solace, detesting the fact that I am alone on the most romantic day of the year. I finally will my apathetic body into movement as I stand up from my comfortable spot on the couch to retrieve a new tub of ice cream. Shuffling slowly into the kitchen I glance up to the clock hanging in the hallway informing me that it is half past seven. I rummage through the refrigerator; finally I settle on the cookies-and-cream flavoured ice cream and quickly grab a glass of water before returning to the living room.
‘Vaughn loves cookies-and-cream ice cream’ I remind myself causing me to cringe inwardly, my face twisting in pain as an old, emotional wound re-opens. Another sigh escapes my lips as I realize that I have eaten two tubs of ice cream, watched five consecutive movies and thought about Vaughn endlessly since nine o’clock this morning.
I am the ideal consumer on Valentine’s Day: lonely, unrequited love, desperate to show feelings. Why not say ‘I love you’ to that special someone with a special heartfelt personal in the paper? If words are not enough, why not send a bouquet of roses, or maybe a box of exquisite chocolates, or perhaps giving your loved one a memorable, passionate kiss?
The corporate owners never thought someone could be in love with a person who is happily married to another woman because he thought that the love of his life had perished in a fire.
Do you think they make a Valentine’s Day card for that?
However, what the corporate owners have failed to realize or maybe are too ignorant to acknowledge is that love…true love…is sacred. Chocolate does not stimulate the same sensation of ecstasy of a kiss…a dozen roses does not emulate the elation of falling asleep in the arms of that special someone…words in a card cannot explain the phenomenon of seeing your past, present, and future in one person.
‘Yeah, I know that kind of love.’ I think solemnly, but quickly correct myself, ‘No, I knew that kind of love.’
I hate Valentine’s Day.
They should make a badge. They have birthday badges: ‘I’m eight!’ or something similar. There should be one for Valentine’s Day: ‘I hate Valentine’s Day don’t ask me why.’ Sure it wouldn’t be as popular as flowers, chocolates and stuffed animals but at least people who are not loved and do not have a Valentine’s date are considered…me included.
I forlornly gaze out the window again, silently berating myself for being so bitter about an occasion that I once treasured. Taking a glimpse at the time I realize that half an hour has passed by without my acknowledgement, the time resting now on eight o’clock. I try to hinder thoughts of Vaughn invading my mind but I succumb in futility knowing that I have been thinking of him all day. I envision Vaughn and Lauren enjoying a delectable dinner at a luxurious restaurant, gazing into one another’s eyes and incessantly interrupting the dinner with ‘I love you’ and other loving words.
My love life parallels all those romantic comedies with one exception my life isn’t all that romantic…more emphasis on the comedy…my life is a joke. Who loses two years of their life and wakes up in a filthy, miserable alley in a foreign country?
“Speaking of jokes,” I think out aloud, breaking the silence of my apartment, “where’s Weiss?” After a few moments of pondering a smile creeps along me lips as I remember Weiss explaining his plans for Valentine’s Day to me yesterday.
***Flashback***
“Hey Syd.” I tear my gaze away from the computer screen to see Weiss leaning on my desk with a friendly smile.
“Hey,” A smile also gracing my face, “what’s up?”
“Dixon wants us in the conference room for a quick debrief.” Weiss explains while twirling his keys around his index finger absentmindedly.
“Okay.” I stand up and retrieve my suit jacket from the back of my chair before following Weiss to the conference room. “So, what are you doing tomorrow?” I ask curiously, knowing Weiss is as successful as me in getting a date these days.
“Oh, Valentine’s Day” Weiss returns his keys to his pocket and continues talking, “never liked the occasion.” I smirk at his comment glad to know that I am not alone in despising Valentine’s Day but I stay silent sensing he wants to say more. “However, this year is different,” Weiss states cryptically, raising his eyebrows suspiciously, “this year I have a date.”
Weiss’ comment stops me in my tracks leaving him walking down the hallway alone until he finally notices the lack of my presence, causing him to retrace his steps to where I am standing flabbergasted. His face contorts in bewilderment; my lack of explanation piques his curiosity, but before he can interrogate me I speak. “You have a date?”
“If you tried to act not surprised you did a good job.” Weiss states sarcastically. “Why is so hard to believe for everyone that I can actually get a date once in awhile?”
“I wasn’t surprised.” I try to reason but Weiss sees right through me and gives me a knowing look. “Okay, maybe a little. I was going to invite you to my place to eat junk food and watch movies since we both have the day off.”
“Oh, sorry I would love to but I made plans already…obviously.” Weiss states sheepishly.
“No that’s okay.” I rush to counter, silently disappointed that I will be spending Valentine’s Day alone but I do not expose my disappointment to Weiss. “So, you have a date, huh?” Continuing the conversation, I sound considerably more cheery and prod Weiss in revealing details about his personal life. “Anyone I know?”
Weiss hesitates slightly and it doesn’t take a CIA agent to know that he is considering lying but decides against it knowing about my interrogation skills. “Actually, I’m spending the day with my mum.” Weiss blushes furiously causing me to smile sweetly at his sincerity. “Don’t tell anyone though. All the guys think I have a hot date.” Weiss hastily adds before turning away and blushing furiously again.
“Just when I thought I had you figured out.” I pat Weiss reassuringly as we continue the journey to the conference room.
***End Flashback***
I sigh heavily, sinking into the couch further, feeling significantly better thanks to Weiss’ quirkiness. Since Weiss is unavailable I contemplate calling my dad but I remember his insistence to work overtime even though he has been working tirelessly to resolve the mystery surrounding my disappearance. I thought my return from the ‘dead’ would result in more quality time with my dad but that has yet to happen.
My mood slowly becomes melancholic and I reach for the remote control lying among an array of videos on the coffee table, I begin channel surfing to entertain my mind but it is in vain as my mind is still heavily occupied by weighty thoughts.
‘I miss Francie’ I try to hold back the tears but surrender allowing trails of sorrow to stain my face. After more than two years of her death, I still mourn the lost of my best friend knowing that her presence in my life is irreplaceable. I wish Francie were here so we could spend Valentine’s Day together. We would recount tragic dates, share past Valentine’s presents received and finally rectify our gloomy mood by having a romantic comedy movie marathon.
‘I miss Will.’ My tears subside with the comfort of knowing that Will is alive and safe, but I am still enveloped in despair. If Will were here he would be obediently listening to Francie and me taking turns to reiterate our stories, intermittently interrupting with a sarcastic comment showing his boredom but silently enjoying the anecdotes.
My moment of reminiscing is disrupted by soft knocking at the door. Puzzlement shows on my face as I search my mind for who could possibly be at the door. My mind races through the usual suspects but after confirming their improbability I am left with a visitor without a face or name.
Turning off the television, I rise from the couch and cautiously approach my front door; my instincts advising me to reach for my pistol hidden in my bedroom just in case. Waiting for a few moments the door lays dormant, no knocking or any other sounds can be heard beyond the threshold so I warily open the door slightly with my pistol poised.
Wine. Roses. Card.
The bundle sitting obediently on my doorstep catches me off-guard and I gawk in disbelief. My mind fumbles at receiving such a romantic gesture that it takes a few minutes to register that I am pointing my pistol at the inoffensive package, ready to take it into custody and imprison it in the CIA cell for interrogation.
No wonder why I never received a home warming gift from the neighbours.
I hastily holster my pistol and clumsily pick up the innocuous gift, amazed that after moping about the lack of attention bestowed on me on the most romantic day of the year I am presented with a generous gift. I stand on my doorstep letting my eyes survey the contents of the gift; the freshly cut roses, the expensive red wine and the elegant card nestled between the two. Carefully, I pick up the card, seeing it has my name written neatly on the envelope, I remove the card.
To love is to receive a glimpse of heaven.
- Your Guardian Angel
Tears spring into my eyes and for the first time since my return from Hong Kong my tears are borne out of pure joy…pure love.
I return the card to its place and retreat into my abode with a genuine, euphoric, dimpled smile adorning my face. But with the tears of happiness blurring my vision I fail to notice the pair of sharp, jade eyes gazing at me from a distance.
Even though I did not see the owner of the mysterious, emerald eyes I know that the bearer of the gift is the only person who can see my soul…can touch my soul…can complete my soul.
I love Valentine’s Day.
Fin.
*~*~*~*~*
So, what do you guys think? And thanks for reading. ^_^
Edited to add: the quote in the card is by Karen Sunde
