Summary: Sydney is a junior at UCLA and is just completing her training at SD-6. Vaughn is a graduate student at UCLA, and he has a secret whose telling could mean life or death for Sydney.
This is my first Alias fanfic. I recently became obsessed with the show. You see, I'm home from college for the summer, recently broke up with my boyfriend, and as a result have no social life. So what do I do? I rent alias from blockbuster! A sad existence, I know. But what can ya do. Sydney's life is much more exciting than mine. ANYWAY...I've pretty much got the plot worked out for this thing. It's gonna be CRAZYYY. Please read & review. Be brutally honest.
Oh yeah, if a character in any way resembles someone from JJ's Alias, then it is. Enjoy!
Sydney Bristow thought her life couldn't be going much better. She was living the dream. She was young, smart, beautiful, and had the whole world fooled. And she knew how to use a gun.
"Aren't you ever afraid it's all just going to come crashing down one day?" she asked her roommate Francie.
"Huh?" Francie grumbled, stretching and yawning. It was five thirty in the morning. To this day Francie had never been able to understand why her roommate insisted on keeping such bizarre hours. College students weren't supposed to come to life until eleven at the earliest. But Sydney was always up at five am sharp, even if she'd been out partying 'til four the night before.
"I mean it can't always be this perfect, you know?"
"Somehow the 'perfection' of being woken up by your chatty roommate at five thirty on a Saturday morning is escaping me right now, Syd."
"No, seriously, think about it. We have everything going for us. But how long can it last, realistically? I just have this feeling that it's all gonna come crashing down any day now."
Francie sensed that this was an issue her friend wanted to discuss in earnest. So she sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes, and tried to take an active part in the conversation.
"Syd, it's silly to talk that way," she yawned. "Plenty of people live their whole lives without any serious tragedy striking them. Plus, it's not as if your life has been a total dream up to this point. I mean – "
"I know, I know, my mom and Danny. But right now it just seems so perfect. It frightens me…I know it has to end sometime."
"Girl, did you meet someone at that dance party last night?"
Sydney rolled her eyes, but Francie noticed her tightening her lips as she tried to smother an involuntary smile. "No."
"Uh huh."
"Even if I did, what I'm talking about has nothing to do with guys."
"Of course."
Sydney sighed. "I guess there's no point hiding anything from you."
"Hon, from the minute you walked in the door last night I knew you met a guy. Your face hasn't glowed like that since…well, you know."
Sydney looked down for a moment, but in a second she was smiling widely again as she pressed her foot against the bed post to stretch her hamstring.
"Well, I better be going," she said, glancing down at her watch.
"What!" Francie exclaimed. "Don't you dare move an inch before you tell me every detail about this new man. I mean it Syd."
Sydney smiled, blushing lightly. "I've really gotta go – I want to get my run in before it gets too hot. How 'bout we go to breakfast when I get back? I'll tell you everything then."
The girls agreed to meet at the cafeteria at 7:30, though how she ever let herself become the best friend of a girl who would force her to be showered and alert at such an ungodly hour on a weekend was beyond Francie.
"All right," said Francie once they were comfortably seated with their food. "Spill it."
Sydney tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and thought back to the events of the preceding night.
She had reluctantly agreed to go to the dance party with her coworker Noah Hicks, despite being brutally tired from a full day of classes and SD-6 training. Noah was in her training class, and they were both juniors at UCLA. He was really the only person she had warmed to at SD-6 – everyone else seemed so cold and distant. She was eager to solidify their friendship outside of work. So when he called her last night asking her to hang out, she was thrilled. Though she would have preferred to watch a movie or go for a walk, Noah insisted on the dance party. His frat was throwing it. She threw on a sexy tank top and skirt and headed out to join him.
The party itself was obnoxious. If she had gotten more than two hours of sleep the night before, she might have been able to enjoy it, but as it was, the blaring music and sweaty, groping frat boys all around her made her feel nauseated. To make matters worse, Noah was completely wasted after about a half hour. Ordinarily, Sydney might have just laughed at him or joined in the fun herself, but her head was aching and Noah was beginning to get crude, so when he got up to pee for about the twelfth time in the last hour, she escaped onto the balcony to cool off for a minute.
She wasn't quite sure how it happened. One minute she was standing alone, resting her elbows on the rail of the balcony, and the next someone had come up behind her and wrapped his arms fiercely around her. His name was Skyler Banks. He was one of those cocky rich boys who had only gotten into the college because of his father's hefty alumni donations. But most people overlooked that. He had achieved his fame on campus for being a ladies-man. There had been a period during the last year when he tried to make Sydney one of his conquests – he had even sworn to her that he'd change his ways completely and never hit on another girl if she'd go out with him – but she wasn't tempted for a second. She had Danny back then.
"I've missed you, Sydney Bristow," he said. His breath reeked of beer. "But I haven't missed the fantasies."
"Get off me," she muttered, attempting to wrestle her way out of his grip.
"You know what your problem is, Bristow? You're too cold. You just need to warm up a little bit," he said, breathing heavily on her neck, and attempting to slide his hands under her shirt.
"I said get off of me." She squirmed away for a second but he was surprisingly forceful in his drunkenness. He grabbed her and pressed her up against the rail.
"Unfortunately, Bristow, I've never heard those words from a woman before. I'm not sure exactly what they mean."
"Let me show you," said a young man who had just appeared on the scene. Sydney had never seen him before. But whatever he had planned on showing Skyler, he didn't have a chance, for at that instant, Sydney threw her head back and then smacked it into Skyler's forehead. He was stunned – she took advantage of that moment to free herself from his grip, at which point she punched him once in the face and then promptly kicked him in the balls. She exhaled contentedly as Skyler slumped to the ground with a high pitched squeal.
"Wow," said the stranger with surprise. Sydney looked down at the ground confusedly. Had it been wise to display her fighting skills in public? Sydney had no improper pride, but she knew that the average girl definitely wouldn't have been able to floor a big guy like Skyler Banks the way she just had. Suppose someone began to suspect the truth about her?
Stop being ridiculous, she told herself. Being able to defend yourself against a drunk frat boy in no way correlates to being a spy for a black opps division of the CIA. Calm down.
She looked up at the man who was still gazing at her and smiled shyly.
"I'm Sydney," she said at last, holding out her hand. He shook it eagerly.
"I'm Vaughn. Michael Vaughn. You should know, Sydney, I was about to rescue you just then."
"You were, were you?"
"Yes, I was," he said, grinning at her. "But as much as I would have liked to be your knight in shining armor, I have to admit it's probably better you took care of him on your own. I mean I'm not exactly a shrimp, but compared to Skyler Banks…he's gotta be 6'7" at least. My guts would probably be splattered across the pavement here if I'd tried to fight him."
Sydney giggled.
"How the hell did you do it?" he asked her.
"I've been taking some self defense classes lately," she answered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Well, I guess you got your money's worth."
Sydney shrugged, thinking of a way to change the subject.
"So, you go to school here?" she said lamely. The only way guys could get into frat parties – unless you were really sneaky – was to be a student at the university. You had to show your student ID before they'd let you in. Obviously Vaughn was a student.
"Yeah. I'm a grad student…trying to get my master's in French education."
"Trying?"
"Well, I also work full time at a bank. So it's hard fitting this in. But it's where my heart is, so I'm determined to see it through."
Sydney was stunned at how similar their lives were…except the one tiny detail that the "bank" she worked for was actually SD-6.
"Ah, I know all about that," she said.
"You do?"
"Ever since…well, it's always been my dream to be an English professor. But I actually work for a bank too, and lately it's been really hard fitting school into my schedule."
"What made you want to be an English professor?" Vaughn asked.
Sydney bit her lip and looked up at Vaughn warily. Normally she felt threatened when people tried to pry into her personal life. But as his green eyes smiled down on her, she felt a strange security. Something about him made her incapable of hiding her emotions. Sydney could live a double life with her best friend Francie, lying to her about potentially life-altering events ten times a day, but with this man, a virtual stranger, she found herself involuntarily opening up.
"My mother was an English professor," she said quietly. "She died when I was six."
"My father died when I was a kid too," Vaughn said solemnly. "It happened years ago, but I still think about him all the time. I'm constantly wondering if he'd approve of the choices I've made…the kind of man I've become."
Sydney nodded her head knowingly.
"I'm sure your mother would be proud of you, Sydney," Vaughn said sincerely.
"That's very reassuring," Sydney said, with a hint of good-humored sarcasm in her voice, "particularly from someone who's known me all of…what is it, five minutes?"
Vaughn looked down at his watch, his hand trembling slightly when he saw that it had stopped.
"I just have a sense about these things," he said after a moment. Then, more lightly, "But I could always be wrong. She might have been mildly horrified at the way you practically castrated poor Skyler over there."
Sydney laughed, and then looked up curiously as a tall, cheerful looking man walked over to them.
"Aw, look at you two, talking about castration. How romantic," he said.
Vaughn rolled his eyes. "Sydney, this is Eric Weiss. Weiss, Sydney. Weiss works with me. And I also have the misfortune of sharing my apartment with him."
"Nice to meet you," said Sydney, holding out her hand. He shook it eagerly.
"Well, I'm sorry to break up the party," Weiss said mournfully, "but Vaughn, we've gotta roll." He raised his eyebrows significantly.
Vaughn chose to ignore the hint. "That's okay man, I think I'll hang out here with Sydney awhile longer. You go on home – I'll see you later."
"But I don't have a car, Michael, I came with you."
"Then take these, Eric," said Vaughn, tossing Weiss his car keys.
"I'd love to take them, Michael, but I can't drive a stick."
"Then learn," Vaughn said, gritting his teeth.
Until this point, Sydney had stood off to the side quietly observing them. But it was becoming increasingly evident to her that Weiss wanted to talk to Vaughn alone, for whatever reason.
"Vaughn," she said, "Just go with him. It's fine, really – I was gonna leave the party soon anyway. It was really nice to meet you two."
Without giving Vaughn chance to argue, she smiled sweetly and headed back to her apartment. She figured Noah was probably too drunk to miss her.
Sydney told Francie pretty much everything that happened at the party, omitting, of course, any references to hers or Noah's affiliation with SD-6. Anyone who happened to be watching the scene would never have guessed that this giddy schoolgirl who babbled on so excitedly about her new crush was secretly a highly trained spy who could knock out half the students in the cafeteria single-handedly if she wanted.
"So that's it?" Francie asked, somewhat bewildered. "No raunchy sex, no kissing, no nothing? Just a five minute conversation, and you're glowing like it's Christmas morning? Good God, girl, Michael Vaughn must be quite a man."
"I don't know," Sydney said. "I just don't know. There was something about him, Francie – I can't put my finger on it. He's not like other guys."
"And you didn't get his number?"
"Well I left so abruptly at the end – I mean I don't know what was going on with his friend Weiss, but he really seemed to need to talk to Vaughn, and I didn't want to interfere with that. Anyway, if he likes me enough, he can look me up in the directory."
More coming soon (probably)! Tell me what you think!