Three Words

Danuta

Cadet
Hello everybody. This here is my second fic and I’m very, very nervous. I really hope that you’ll like it. It’s totally different than “Maroon”, but I love this story so much. Okay, I won’t continue to talk too much, so simply: Enjoy! And please review. This story is already finished (Prologue, six chaps and epilogue) so it won’t take too long to update.

Love, Danuta




Title: Three words
Author: Danuta
Couple: Syd and Vaughn (not really a surprise)
Rating: PG-13 and R-16
Spoiler: Up and including vaguely episode 2x01 “The enemy walks in“
Summary: Words are connecting and separating them. But these three words have destroyed her heart and now she was on her own again.
Chapters: Prologue, 6 chapters and epilogue
A/N: Changing Second person POV (Syd and Vaughn)
This was just a little idea and I needed to write it down. I know that it’s not very extraordinary or fantastic, but it’s one of my many ‚what-if‘-thoughts. And sometimes it’s better to write the words in your mind down. Believe me, you will understand the sentence after you’ve read the story=)
Soundtrack (the songs I’ve listened to during the writing): La tortura – Shakira; If I fall – Tara McLean; Bruised – Sugarbabes; Losing Grip – Avril Lavigne; Because of you – Kelly Clarkson; Rinse – Vanessa Carlton; Everything – Lifehouse; Can I go now – Jennifer Love Hewitt; Stupid – Sarah McLachlan


Prologue
Syd POV

Three words. The most important sentences in life consist of three words. All important feelings can be caught in just three simple words.

“I love you”
“I hate you”
“I want you”
“I despise you”
“I am happy”
“It is tragic”
“It is wonderful”
“I like you”
“I believe you”
“I distrust you”


The most important sentences in your life have consisted of three words.

“Mommy is dead”
“Daddy is away”
“Do not cry”
“Quit the bank”
“Danny is dead”
“Mom is alive”


You prefer short sentences by now. Their meaning is clear. No place for misunderstanding or misinterpreting. They are clear and simple. Most of the time. Too many words confuse you by now.
You hear them. You hate them. And you live on.
Endless briefings. Avoiding subjects by creating a dive of words that choke you. And you live on. Try to decipher the hidden meanings and answer in the same cryptic way. People prefer the torrent of words. Like to choose which they want to hear and which they will ignore. But your life is hard enough. You have enough to think about, so the only thing you want is that they only open their mouths to tell you the important things.

You stare blankly at the crisp white wall. He talks to you. Tries to explain to you the difficult situation. You have stopped listening to him hours ago. His words go straight through your body. Nothing can help you anymore. Not even his presence. But as he continues to rattle on and on, you just hear the single letters. You have lost the ability to connect them, to hear the words, to understand the meaning of what he is saying. The abundance of insignificant details he is giving you, nerves you.

“Are you even listening to me?“

Is it hurt you can feel erupting from his words? Or anger? Pain? You would love to hear him yelling. Telling you that he hates you. Not these declarations of nothing.
Justredeemmehatemekillme.Pleasepleaseplease. You want to scream at him. You want to give him your gun, close your eyes and wait for the shoot that would end your meaningless life.
But he would be frightened. The most people are when you tell them the truth straight into their faces. They‘re afraid because their world of explanations and paraphrases is endangered. So you keep your mouth shut. You bit your lip until the metallic taste of your own blood fills your mouth. And it’s the first time you smile in ages. Because it is the first time you forget the other pain that is growing inside of you for only a second. But the second is over too soon and the hurt that lies so much deeper inside of you are killing you again.

“Sydney. Come on. You’re frightening me. Say something.“

A wry grin settles on your face. You know that. But you’re not punishing him with your silence. You would punish him with your words. You would tell him your deepest secret, would spill every tragic detail of your weird life, would cry about all the people who have left you, would scream at him that he has found you. And that, yes, that would be the living hell for him. It’s time to realize that there’s nothing to talk about. Nothing worth talking about.

“Sydney. Tell me. How are you? Really. I’m your friend. I love you so much. Please tell me.“

You look up. That was surprising. You have never realized that his feelings for you are that deep. Can’t he see that you‘re a demon? You would haunt him. Every day. Every night. You are the downfall for every man.

“They killed Danny”
“Noah was Snowman”
“Will was abducted”
“Jack has lied”
“Vaughn is missing”


Again three words that have changed your life. Funny how life seems to work against your happiness. An icy laugh escapes your throat. He looks at you with a questioning look on his boyish features.
He approaches you. Like you’re a wild animal. And you can bite, if you want. And right now you feel all your senses are on overload, not knowing how to react. Following his movements with your eyes, you see him lifting his hand to your face and feel him tracing the outline of your skin with the back of his fingertips. A gesture of love. But love is pure, innocent and beautiful. You aren’t.
Jerking away, your hand tight around his wrist, you know that you are hurting him.

“Don’t touch me.”

Your voice is dangerous low. A groan. A scream. A whisper. A threat.
Only then he realizes. His eyes meet yours and he sees it clearly. He’s known you for too long. Playing “hide and seek” isn’t possible with him.
Tears are brimming at your lashes and you wonder that after all the crying you are able to produce even more drops of sorrow and sadness. There’s no bravery left inside of you. So you let him go and see the red impression on his wrist. No regrets are flooding through your body. You aren’t better as the villains you wanted to fight. You are the same. The hate, the pain, has eaten your soul away. There’s only a black hole left now. You aren’t standing at the edge of the abyss anymore, you have fallen into a long time ago. And all your ghosts of the past are laughing at you, are threatening you.

“I thought it’s forbidden.”

It is. You nod and see his furrowed brow. Gogogoleavemealone. Don’t try to help me, you want to say, but you can’t form a coherent sentence anymore. Your heart can’t possibly break because of what has happened.

“You are strong”
“No I am not”
“You will survive”
“Not without you”


He is interrupting your thoughts by whispering your name. He is afraid of touching you anymore. Because you are not his possession. The man who has loved you, who has left you, who has destroyed you, isn’t him. The love for the man, who has left only the hollow shell of the old Sydney Bristow, was never his.
Standing up, you take the folded letter out of your bag. It isn’t long. It isn’t full of false promises and unrealistic wishes. It’s pure and simple. Like you always wanted to be. But that’s not who you are. That’s not who you both are.

“Could you give it to him?”


He isn’t sure. So you use your last acting-abilities and present him with a look that would even melt your own father.

“Okay.”

The moment you give the piece of paper from your hands, is like you can’t breathe anymore. It’s like you can’t think anymore. He has destroyed you. He has shattered your broken heart and soul.
You slip your black coat on and glide your fingers through the fine strands of blonde hair. Removing the big sunglasses out of your bag you stalk away.
Away from this life. Away from him. Away from your hopeless dreams. Goodbye is never easy. But you know that you will do good by leaving them. They deserve to live a life without you.

“Bye Will“, you whisper, but he can’t hear you. The cold walls wouldn’t echo your words. The only sound is his irritated breathing and the clicking of your heels on the cement-floor. Will deserved better. You have never deserved a friend like him. Reaching the door, you push it open and feel the fresh breeze of air.

“Wait Sydney. What should I tell Vaughn if he asks me about you?“

You pause. Mere seconds. Your breath hitches.
One. Two. Three. No words anymore.

You walk on.

Life has changed. And it definitely doesn‘t include Michael Vaughn anymore.

***
tbc...

Please review! You know, just click on this little button and wirte a few words down ;)

Love, Danuta
 
Life has changed. And it definitely doesn‘t include Michael Vaughn anymore.
:( Way to make me sad...

I love this fic already! :D Please PM me when you update!

I really like the 'three words' concept. Because it's different and true.

~Anja
 
hi danuta,
wow that was intense! yes different written. i would say" eine didaktische meisterleistung" "hammer!".
so i`m not sure is this a oneparter or are you updating?
if you do so, please pm
suzy
 
Next part!
Thank you for the feedback and please enjoy!

Love, Danuta


Chapter 1

5 months ago

Syd’s POV

Words have only been a burden between you and Vaughn. Your relation has been built upon longing looks, hopeful touches and unspoken promises. But in your job it’s necessary to talk about the harsh reality. No place for short sentences of affection. So the moments in which you truly felt connected with Vaughn were the one’s you spoke not much. Where your mouth said only three words and your heart added so much more.

“My guardian angel.” Smiling up in the sky, you wonder if he can see that you are glowing. You are sincere for the time since....since everything began.

“So, you're Bristow.”
“Yeah.”
“Vaughn's told me about you. He likes you”, he tells you, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“What about -- is it Alice?” You don’t know why you are bringing this topic up. It’s none of your business. It shouldn’t interest you. You shouldn’t know her name by heart. Why do you even pretend like you don’t know her name?
“Yeah. We broke up.” He interrupts your thoughts and looks down and you just can’t suppress the smile that is growing on your face. Inwardly, you feel satisfaction and could it be...a spark of hope? Because he always speaks the truth to you.

“Are you romantically interested in anyone?” You give him a look. What’s with that for a question?
”Could be a question”, he defends himself.
Your breath hitching, you tell him “No, I'm not”
The stupid machine beeps loudly, echoing your lie. And that’s the first time you think that maybe you’re so good at lying that you have lied to yourself all the time.
“Interesting…” He nods slowly and a smile is plastered on his face.

“What's that?” Will asks, pointing at the present Vaughn has given to you. You haven’t opened it. And seriously, you don’t know why you are so afraid of opening it.
“Oh, nothing. That's...some guy at work gave it to me”
“Oh, yeah? Not Dixon?”
“No, he's still recovering. Just...some other guy” And instantly you know, he is not. He is more. And that’s your ulterior motive of lying to everyone.

“Maybe he likes you.” Sometimes Will can be such a child.
Shaking your head, you forbid yourself to think of Vaughn as something more.
“No!”
“Maybe he does.” And this ‘maybe‘ disturbs you. Makes you want to believe in another lie.

“You're amazing.” And the worst of all is, you are so good at lying, that you believe his lies too.


And then he was stolen away from you. Not only him, but the chance of another life too. Seven days. Seven days, four hours and fifteen minutes to be exact, you have you laid in your soft bed with the blue linen sheets and have cried. The windows and curtains have been closed, the world has turned on without you and not even Francie’s blueberry pancakes with vanilla sauce have tempted you to leave the cozy hole you’ve created for yourself. And all because of him. Michael Vaughn.

“Anything from Vaughn?”
“Nothing.”


And this one word ‘Nothing’ has destroyed you the minute it left Weiss’s mouth. To know that you have lost someone without ever having him really, was too much for you to take. You ran home through the pounding rain, too desperate to drive your car. You needed the cold fresh air, the wet drops gliding down your skin, the leaves dancing in the storm, the rhythm of the rain that has been dropping, coinciding with the beating of your heart. And when you came home and the rain stopped, so did your heart.

And then you have hid yourself from everybody and anyone. Your friends were worried. Your father has murmured something about ‘too emotionally attached’ and told Sloane that you were ill. Probably he thinks that emotions are an illness, you think while looking in the rear view mirror of your jeep. No one is following you, and you are more relieved than ever before. You want to see him, need to see him. Because after these seven days of balancing on the thin line separating hope and desperation, you have realized the one thing you hoped to suppress until everything was over. You are in love. Yes, you love Michael Vaughn – the one man you can’t have.

And since he is back, everything has changed. Nothing is the same anymore. Your feelings and hopes for the future have shifted ever so slightly – you didn’t even realize that. But that’s the problem with wishes; they come through the backdoor, invading your mind and take over your thoughts until you can’t think of anything different. You can’t even remember the life before Vaughn. You have lived, breathed, eaten, laughed and even loved. But it seems that you’re lost in his reflection now. For the woman inside of you who wants just to hide and forget everything, he is the perfect reason to keep fighting.
First it had been Danny, revenge for his death, seeking the pure pleasure of seeing Arvin Sloane in prison and hearing the word “Guilty” out of a judge’s mouth. But time, time has given you the opportunity to think, to make new impressions, to gain new information.

So, your thoughts have altered so slowly and tantalizingly that you haven’t even realized the change in your behavior, in your dreams. The dark feelings of revenge have been replaced by the hope of a future with him one day.
Not even one minute passes where demons aren’t haunting you. The picture of Danny, bloody and dead in the bathtub, was more than you could take. And now he visits you – in the night when you dream. When you dream about kissing Michael Vaughn, when you dream about your own happiness, he emerges and accuses you of killing him. That you would kill every man in your life, everyone who wants to make you happy. And every night you wake up screaming his name, imploring him to understand. He won’t.
Your father is the other voice of reason. He is a bad father, but after all he is your father and he has the ability to decipher the meaning behind your words. And you talk and talk, hope that the wave of words will choke him before he can see the blush on your cheeks. But he can read the three words that are well-hidden in all the distractions and debaucheries: You love him.

‘Forget him’, is his fatherly advice. And you have even thought about that. Have thought about the poor Danny, the left Alice, the tortured Will, your deceived father, his murdered father, your murderous mother, his poor mother and your own broken soul. He would be better without you. He could live a happily-ever-after. You can clearly see children and a nice blonde wife in his future. A dog, a house, a well-paid job. But who wants happily-ever-afters? You tried to erase the picture of Michael Vaughn from your future. But you cannot forget and even refuse to regret that you two have met. Because you have finally found someone who makes worth all the pain that you live through.

“Last week, when you talked about quitting SD-6-”
“I was being naive.”
“No, but, um, what you said about wanting to go to a hockey game... wanting me to be part of your life... I, uh, I think I wasn't clear about something. That it would be nice to be in public with you, to actually get to look at you. Grab a pizza or go to a hockey game. I-I just… I wasn't clear that I would really like that too.”


You park your car behind the old warehouse and shut down the engine. Taking a deep breath, you look into the small mirror and recognize the one feeling that is your downfall. Your eyes can’t deceive you. It’s clearly written in the reflection of your brown orbs – love and longing. Stepping out of the car you enjoy the darkness of the night. It makes you feel safe. Running the short distance to the warehouse you open the door. Throwing a last glance over your shoulder you are greeted only by silence.

Inside the grungy building, it is cold and a peculiar atmosphere is electrifying the air. Slowly your eyes are adjusting to the dim light and it takes you only a few seconds to localize Vaughn behind one of the fences. Taking a deep breath and building up your facadé, you make yourself perceptible.

“Syd”, he greets you reserved.

Sitting down on the crate next to him, you let your fingers brush his. He shivers. And there’s no doubt that this little shiver has been his answer to you.
He tells you something about a mission. Endless words. Foreign words. Explanations, declarations, statistics, instructions, directions, indications. And suddenly you wonder when you two have gotten so emotionless. Where is the man you have rescued in France?

“Where are we?”
“France.”
“France? Really! France!”
“There's too much to explain. I have to get back before Dixon comes after me. You can get back to Los Angeles, right?”
“What?”
“You saved my life.”
“See you back in LA.”


He had smiled. You had smiled. And damn, you should’ve kissed. That had been the perfect moment. He, so full of adrenaline, the CIA rule book long forgotten. You, so happy that your own fears have been erased.
But you’ve let the chance slip away from you. Once again.
Probably the spark that has been between you has left, like all the words that are leaving his mouth.

“Are you even listening to me?”

You nod. You lie. Tell him something he wants to know about Sloane’s newest artifact.
And he continues to talk. You wonder if you could stop him with a kiss. If this would stop his desperate attempt to destroy the intimacy between you. But even when you are brave in the field, you aren’t in real life. So you swallow all your feelings and hope that someday there’ll be a chance to do this right.

He looks at you. Something is clearly bothering him. Maybe your monosyllabic answers. Maybe the dark circles under your eyes. You question him with a quick glance that tells him not to ask further.
Instead of subtle and gentle words that soothe your torn soul, he stands up and watches the dust whirl around in the air.

“Syd”, he begins, his voice trembling slightly. His gaze shifts from your twitching hands to the broken look in your eyes. And this is possibly the first time he notices that you are as nervous as himself.

He has prepared a little speech. And by the look Vaughn sends you there is no chance that he will allow you to interrupt him. So you wait and listen. Phrases like “The CIA says...”, “Barnett told me...” and “Devlin wants me...” relieve one another. The more he speaks, the more you get the feeling that he isn’t speaking to you. It’s like he holds this little speech for himself, to regain some clarity.
After five minutes, he stops and pinches the bridge of his nose. Looking up, you lock gazes for a few moments.
And the truth is, that you know what he will say before he even opens his mouth. Shaking your head, tears brimming at your lashes, you can see how the last of the walls, called ‘Rules’, ‘Duty’ and ‘Responsibility’, that separate him from you, are crumbling down.

“I love you.“

These words change your world forever. It has been your deepest wish to hear these three words out of his mouth, but in the same moment you want to run away. It’s wrong. So wrong to follow this foolish want of being loved and loving someone back.
So you take a deep breath and look him in the eye. Opening your mouth, you want to tell him that it’ll be over before you can begin to feel something. That your feelings aren’t true, that you would kill him like everyone else you care for. You are dangerous.

Instead of vocalizing even one of these thoughts, tears are rolling down your pale cheeks and with each little drop, your doubts vanish. IwantthisIwanthimIwanteverythingIcanget. You want this. More than life.

‘That’s not fair’, you think regretfully and sink down onto the dirty ground. Your knees lifted up against your chest, arms holding them tight up to your body, you hide yourself from his burning gaze. You‘re too weak to prevent any of this.
Possibly, he will leave you alone if you wait a bit.

Soon enough you can hear his steps, but he isn’t walking away from you. Instead he kneels down in front of you and his thumb is brushing the never ending falling tears away.

“Syd“, he is whispering with a soft and velvet voice that grazes your skin, and tucks a strand of your chestnut tresses behind your ear. You close your eyes and enjoy the simple gesture of affection. The corner of his mouth is turning up slightly as you lift your eyes to meet his waiting gaze.

“Take the risk“ he says, barely above a whisper. It wasn’t necessary for him to voice his thoughts; you can read them clearly in his eyes. You will never be able to hide your feelings for each other. Swallowing hard to regain some control of your voice, you nod silently before adding a soft: “I will.“

His hands tangle in your shiny hair, you cling to each other desperately. You have chosen your own misery and nothing can stop you both now. Only death.
Tears brimming at your lashes, your breath hitches when you see him glancing at your lips. Leaning into him you brush your lips against his, signing the contract of your relationship. Pulling away slowly, pausing mere inches from your face, he waits a few moments, thinking about the consequences and the dangers.

“You know what could happen?“, he asks, his voice dark and low, making your body shiver.

“It’s dangerous“, you whisper as an answer, seeing him glancing at your lips once again.

“I don’t care.“ Closing the distance between the two of you, he kisses you softly, but now isn’t the time for taking things slow. Every moment could be the last you have, so you sneak your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. Your tongue tracing along his bottom lip, he opens his mouth to you like it’s an instinct. Drinking each other in, you can’t end this slow dance of feverish need. His hands wander from your face, to your waist, grasping your hips and pulling you more into him. A loud moan echoes through the cold halls of the warehouse, but you have no idea if it had been him or you. You don’t even care. Lying down on the dirty floor, you break this precious connection and your eyes remain locked for a few moments.

Innocence has gone. It is him and you. And maybe death. But right now, you swallow the tears and the sorrow and live. Live and breathe in the few precious moments of happiness God has granted you.

***
tbc….
 
“Are you romantically interested in anyone?” You give him a look. What’s with that for a question?
”Could be a question”, he defends himself.
Your breath hitching, you tell him “No, I'm not”
The stupid machine beeps loudly, echoing your lie. And that’s the first time you think that maybe you’re so good at lying that you have lied to yourself all the time.
“Interesting…” He nods slowly and a smile is plastered on his face.
loved that part.. brings back good memories of season 1. and where we learn how much they both really care for each other





“Take the risk“ he says, barely above a whisper.
thinking how this would send shivers up syd's spine.

this is getting good.. keep it up..
 
:D :D :D :D :D :D I WAS RIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!! I TOTALLY LOVE THIS ONE 2...

GOD UR SOOO TALENTED :clap: :clap:i can see a few :eek:scar: coming your way very soon :D
totally loved it
UPDATE SOON PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

:Please: can i have a pm 2

angels_fire :angelic:
 
Thanks for the kind words. I love them. That's why you are getting a double post.

Enjoy!

Love, Danuta


Chapter 2
Vaughn POV

”Sleep with me.“

As soon as you have said these words, you regret them. It had been too soon, too straight-forward, too brusque. And now she stares at you with impossible big and innocent eyes. Her lips flushed and her breathing ragged from your shared kisses. For an hour, you have been in this tiny motel room, enjoying the short amount of time together. Hours, months, years....with Sydney Bristow in your arms they fly by like a second, and when you two separate you crave her touch even more. Who would have thought that a Michael Vaughn could be addicted to one single woman? Surely not you.
But you want to give her more. More than clandestine meetings in grungy motel rooms and stolen kisses in the warehouse. But you can’t give her more. Not now. So you just have to live with the “one-hour-per-week“-meetings. Like you have done for the last three weeks.

Turning to the fallen angel on the soft linen sheets next to you, you notice that she is clearly in thought. So you weren’t the only one thinking about taking the next step in your relationship. Resting your head on your elbow you let your hand wander softly from her cheek, down her neck, her shoulders, until it lies on her breast. It is just a subtle, feather light touch, but you can hear her inhale sharply. This is a big part of your relationship. The passion to live and to breathe. Normal for people who are accustomed to death and darkness in their lives.

She grabs your hand and squeezes it lightly, not removing it. And you don’t need anymore words; her touch has given you the wanted courtesy. You can talk and talk for hours, moving back and forth, but in reality these words are only excuses for not acting on your feelings. You could tell her that you can’t live without her smile anymore, that you crave her touch in the nights, that it kills you, hearing her heavy breathing over the comms. Especially when you want to be the reason for her ragged breathing.

You lean down and kiss her gently on the mouth, your tongue tracing the contours of her full lips. It’s true what they say about the bedroom. Words don’t count here, it‘s how you show them that makes a good lover. So you devour her skin and hope that she understands the hidden meaning.
She sneaks her hands between you two and unbuckles your belt. An involuntary groan is your only answer. The power she has over you isn’t good. You have fell into the abyss called Sydney Bristow and now you would have to fall forever. Your clothes are quickly discarded, tension unbearable. You drink each other in; drown in the caresses of the other and loosing yourself. Nobody could explain the perfection between the two of you.

You feel the cool air drifting over your sweaty back as you drift into her. And you become one. One body, one soul, one heart. But you will never be close enough. You feel her with your hands and your lips, but the transition of this moment is killing you. Knowing that the woman under you could be dead after the next mission chokes you. And every move she makes, every moan that floats out of her mouth, lets your heart constrict once more.

As your movements quicken, you breathe in each other’s breath, praying to God that he would never steal this angel away from you. You’re afraid to close youreyes. Afraid that this is only your fantasy and you wake up in your bed, sweating and panting. Once again.

But she senses that something isn’t right with you, so she dips your face to her flushed and beautiful one and you begin the duel of mouths, lips and heat once again. And in this one moment, you know that nothing she will ever confess will make you love her less. Nothing could ever destroy the connection between the two of you. The golden band binding you forever. ‘Till death do us part.’

When it’s over, you both gasp for air.
Stroking your hair, she whispers with her sweet voice: “I trust you.“
One chest heaving against the other. One heartbeat beating against the other.

And you know that she has understood every word you have shown her.

***

Chapter 3
Sydney POV

Today is one those days were everything goes wrong. First your alarm-clock didn’t ring and that caused you to come too late to the 9:00 meeting Sloane wanted you to attend. The accusing gaze of your boss, the knowing gaze of your father and the suspicious gaze of Dixon. They all know that something is bothering you, or better, is distracting you. And they have their ways to find out what you're hiding.

Through questions...

“Sydney, what is this on your neck?”
“Oh nothing. Stupid me, fell out of the bed last night.” You laugh in a weird way, your fingers idly brush over the mark of your lover.


...through accusations...

“I know that you’re having an affair with Agent Vaughn. How can you be so stupid Sydney?”
“We aren’t having an affair.” We are in love, you add silently.


...or through observation.

“Please talk after the beep-tone.”
“Hey Vaughn, we can’t meet today. Sloane’s men are shadowing my house. I’m so sorry.” You hang up and curse Sloane for taking away from you the only thing that makes you feel alive.


And now your car has broken down in the middle of nowhere. Your body sweaty, hair a mess, clothes rumpled, you arrive 40 minutes too late at the warehouse. Vaughn paces back and forth in one of the cages. Like a wild animal that wants to escape from his prison. You wonder why he wanted to meet you here. Normally the warehouse is only for meetings concerning business. But the last Tuesday you used these fences for something different than work, you think, and a big smile is plastered on your face at the thought of your passionate encounter.

The old metallic door creaks when you open it fully, and he notices you coming in. Vaughn’s gaze is locked onto your lone figure immediately. You feel naked under his intensive stare and blush profusely. A deep shade of pink creeps on your pale cheeks, your hands brush over your sweaty forehead, trying to keep the drops of sweat from trickling down your face. That’s not exactly how you wanted him to see you. He has seen you as the mean vixen, the sexy club-kid, the elegant lady, the professional Agent, the passionate lover. But it is definitely too early for him to see you when you look like a mess. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, you notice how he stares at you. A lost glance.

“Is everything okay?”, he asks and you don’t know why, but the warmth in his voice, the gleam in his eyes is missing.

“Don’t ask.” You smile at him, crossing the distance separating you to kiss him. But he cuts it short, pushes you away from him. And now you panic. Search his eyes and find nothing. And this nothing disturbs you more than any hint of anger or hate could have done.

So you stumble back, waiting for him to speak.

And when he does, is destroys you.
“We should separate.”

“You are only a nice little fling for Agent Vaughn. He is with another woman. Sydney I really don’t want to tell you this, but this is the dream for every man. A beautiful woman and nobody is allowed to know about your affair. He is using you. You are not more than a mistress to him.”

You had slapped your father. Right in the face. And the pain in your soul stung more than the palm of your hand. And he had shaken his head. Like he had done when you were small. But the pain that is now choking you is so much harder to take.

“Is it Alice?” Her name burns your tongue.

He just nods. “It is her.”

And your world shatters. You look at the man you’re in love with and all the emotions you have seen so clearly in his eyes, his voice, his face, are gone. Only shallow words are left, and those are a torment and are teasing you.
Turning around you grab hold on the fence, ignoring the fact that it’s the same he had thrown you against the last time you have made love.

“Are you happy?”

And the silence is the worst answer you could receive.

You can’t see the tear rolling down his cheek.

You cannot cry anymore. Tears are a sign of weakness.

So you run out of the building. And run and run and run....
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Exhale.

....until your lungs burn, your feet are aching and you can’t breathe anymore.

Day goes, night comes. And you just sit there and watch the stars. You had begun to believe in soul mates. You had thought that something so pure and innocent like the love between you two was destiny. But you had been wrong. And if you think back, you should have seen this coming. Love has been your enemy since the beginning. Your mother, Noah, Danny...he is just one addition to the list.

And now your heart is broken once again, and this time there’ll be nobody to pick the pieces up.

So you sit and cry his name.

When you come home, there’s a message that your father will be your handler from now on.

And that he has heard that Vaughn will marry his girlfriend.

***
tbc…


Now you all hate me, right? *ducks her head and runs away*
 
o.k, ich bin verwirrt. funny wir ihr writer es immer wieder schafft, dass man am ende des kapitels steht und denkt, was ist gerade vorgefallen. ich mußte noch mal das erste kapitel lesen und ja ich bin verwirrt. da wird über liebe und trau dich, geh das risiko ein gesprochen und dann ...ist schluß?? vielleicht hat vaughn sich ja auch die regeln ins gedäächtnis gerufen und handelt kopfgesteuert. ja, dass muß es sein, weil das er verliebt ist, wissen wir ja. tja ja so ist das mit dem kopf und dem herzen. und da gibst du alles für eine nacht und hoffst, und dann heist es , war schön aber wir sollten uns nicht mehr sehen und dann auch noch alice ins spiel bringen.
excellent. wirklich wiedereinmal ein herausragendes chapter.
ich freu michimmer über deine updates. weiter so
suzy
 
o.k, ich bin verwirrt. funny wir ihr writer es immer wieder schafft, dass man am ende des kapitels steht und denkt, was ist gerade vorgefallen. ich mußte noch mal das erste kapitel lesen und ja ich bin verwirrt. da wird über liebe und trau dich, geh das risiko ein gesprochen und dann ...ist schluß?? vielleicht hat vaughn sich ja auch die regeln ins gedäächtnis gerufen und handelt kopfgesteuert. ja, dass muß es sein, weil das er verliebt ist, wissen wir ja. tja ja so ist das mit dem kopf und dem herzen. und da gibst du alles für eine nacht und hoffst, und dann heist es , war schön aber wir sollten uns nicht mehr sehen und dann auch noch alice ins spiel bringen.
excellent. wirklich wiedereinmal ein herausragendes chapter.
ich freu michimmer über deine updates. weiter so
suzy
I wish I could understand whatever the hell that says. :eek: German is a cool language!

So, you're right. I do (temporarily... until you fix this) hate you.

~Anja

Update soon!
 
hmmmm i dont hate u...i just dont like u very much right now

gr8 update

fix this soon!!!!!!!!!! lol

hav to admit im liking how this isnt all fluffy
 
da war ich doch gerade drüben bei sd-1 verwirrt., ich war mir so sicher ein review abgegeben zu haben. naja habe ich ja auch , eben nur hier. ich war doch so stolz endlich mal richtig geantwortet zu haben. :smiley: .
drüben hast du gerade deine story abgeschlossen und ich habe das letzte kapitel gelesen und nichts verstanden, weil ich diese story immer nur hier gelesen habe und mir also die kapitel dazwischen fehlen.
ich geh also gleich noch mal rüber und lese alles in ruhe.
soviel schon mal, du bist eine der writer die etwas geheimnisvoll und offen abschliessen.
fand ich gut
so jetzt lese ich das ganze aber erst noch mal.
suzy

ups. sorry 6helterskelter6 for talking german again. german ins`t that cool i think, but speaking diffent languages is and creating such great fictions as danuta does in a forgein language ...that rocks!!
 
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