I decided to publish some stories I read and liked. They can't be find online anymore (I think). I had them on my computer and I thought it would be nice to put them online ! I do not own these stories, this one was written by omg. If you are the author of this story and you're not okay about this, you can contact me and I'll delete it immediately ! I hope these great stories will make some people happy !

Title: Cold Hands, Warm Heart

Author: omg
Rating: PG-13
Timeline: I'm thinking early Season 2, sometime before the whole quarantine in medical services.
Summary: Um… I'm not sure what this is actually. There's a mission, and injuries, and a safehouse… This is a long one-parter. It is posted here in its entirety.
Disclaimer: I did not create and do not own Alias or its characters. No infringement intended. See additional product disclaimers at the end of the story.
A/N: If you've read my other stories you might have noticed they each have a central issue or theme, usually with serious undertones. Well, this one… not so much. I don't know what the heck it is. Not really angst, not really fluff. But I will tell you: if you don't like detail, you probably won't like this.

I hope you enjoy it!

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

For the third time in as many missions, it occurred to Sydney that she should perhaps reconsider her policy of going unarmed on her undercover missions.

"Boot Camp, we may have a slight problem," she said into her comm link. She had been on her way out of the office and research building, walking briskly through a lobby full of people attending a benefit being held for some benevolent purpose, probably to counteract all the malevolent secret dealings of the CEO. But now she chose to slow her steps until she had a better grasp of the situation. Rather than leave her face exposed, she turned her back on the crowd. While she waited for a response from Vaughn, she kept her eyes on the large window before her, using the reflection she saw there to scan the crowd of men and women in their formal attire.

"Go ahead, Syd."

"I just spotted Anna Espinosa."

"You call that slight?"

"Well, it could be worse; I could be freezing my ass off in the van with you."

"Very funny. Has she seen you?"

"I don't think so. I just spotted her coming in from the catering area. She's using the waitress cover tonight." Sydney's eyes followed the reflected image of her nemesis in the dark glass. "She's making her way toward LaRoche. She must still need to get the codes off of him."

"Well then, that puts us a few steps ahead of her. You've just got to get out the door, and you'll be home free."

"Yeah well, she's kind of between me and the door."

"Oh."

"Okay. Here's the plan. I'll try to stay out of sight until she gets the codes. Once she gets the codes, she'll make her way to the secured area, I'll make my way to the front door, and then I'll be—"

"What?"

"Busted."

"What?"

"Anna has at least one friend stationed by the front door."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah."

"You think he'll recognize you?"

"Well, I broke his finger last year."

"Which one?"

"The little one on his right hand, I think."

"No, I mean, which guy? I'm trying to locate him on the security feed."

"Oh." Sydney turned her head a little to get a better view. "Standing to the left of the door, six foot three, two hundred twenty pounds, wavy blond hair. Tux, black tie, no vest. Chatting up the bimbo in the lime green dress." She glanced once more at the goon only to see that he was staring right back at her. She tried to nonchalantly look away, but she knew it was too late. It occurred to her that this was payback for the bimbo comment. She didn't think karma was supposed to work that quickly. "I've been made," she said a little less calmly than she had been speaking. She kept an eye on the reflection again. "He just signaled Anna."

"Okay. I'm on my way."

"No, you can't. She knows I work with Dixon. If she sees me with someone else she might get suspicious. K-Directorate finding out I'm a double is just as bad as SD-6 knowing." She followed Anna's progress and noticed she was speeding up in her approach toward LaRoche. "She's still going for the codes. She doesn't realize I already have the disk."

"Good. What about The Muscle?"

"He's making his way toward me. He looks like he wants to settle the score," she added, watching the man clenching the fingers of his right hand into a fist. For a split second, she realized that something didn't seem quite right, but she couldn't put her finger on it, and didn't have time to dwell on it now. "I don't know how many others are here. I've got to find another way out. I'm on the move." She turned and started walking back toward the door she had so recently exited. "I'm heading back toward the secured area. At least they won't be able to follow me until they get the codes. That'll give me a little time. Are the hallways still clear?" She paused near the alcove which led to the security door and while Vaughn checked the monitors in the van, she checked the room to make sure the angry Russian was the only one keeping an eye on her.

"Yes, you're clear."

As soon as she got the confirmation, Sydney slid into the alcove and used the keypad by the door to enter the first set of codes from memory. She heard the lock disengage and pushed the door open so that she could just barely slide through. She made sure it was closed completely and listened for the lock clicking back into place before she took off in a run down the long hallway. Intentionally heading in the direction opposite of LaRoche's office, she turned right at the next corner and then stopped for a few seconds to remove her shoes. With her shoes in one hand and her purse in the other, she set off again, this time a little faster, grateful that at least the floor was carpeted.

"Have I ever told you my theory about high heels?" she asked while trying to maintain a steady breathing rhythm.

"Maybe later."

"What? You've got something better to do?" She turned another corner.

"Yeah, I'm kinda busy." Sydney grinned, knowing Vaughn was having to switch between multiple cameras and multiple monitors. "Right at the next hallway, then the second hallway on the left. Anna is heading toward the security door. She must have the codes."

"Copy that." As Sydney turned right at the next hallway, she heard Vaughn's voice come through again.

"She's in the secured area. She's bringing The Muscle with her. Once they realize you're not in the office, they'll be looking for you."

Sydney kept running, trying to get as far as possible from LaRoche's office while getting closer to a safe exit.

"They just gained access to the office. Anna's going in, but the guy's heading back out into the hallway. He's armed, Syd."

Right now, Sydney was more concerned with the maze-like quality of the building. She took her second left. She hoped the maze would at least keep Anna and her goon occupied for a while, but she wondered how the workers ever found their way back to their offices. Just as she was imagining a trail of bread crumbs, Vaughn's voice sounded in her ear, giving her more directions.

"Right at the next – wait! Stop!"

Sydney froze. Her "normal person" instincts told her to scream "What?" but her spy instincts told her to keep her mouth shut just as she heard the sound of a door closing nearby. It sounded like it was coming from the hallway about twenty yards ahead and on her right, the hallway Vaughn had just told her to turn down.

"A guard just came out of an office and into that hallway. He's heading your way. He's maybe forty yards from the intersection of the two hallways."

Sydney hugged the right wall and did the quiet tip-toe run that had been so useful on many a previous mission, not to mention the one time she had snuck out of the house when she was sixteen. She tried to open a few office doors, but they were locked. A few feet from the intersection she realized she would have to face him, so she carefully placed her shoes and purse on the floor and pressed her back against the wall, waiting. She could hear the guard now, his pants making a kind of swishing sound. He started to hum.

"Five more feet," Vaughn whispered, as if he were in the hallway, too, and feared the guard might hear him.

His warning helped her time it perfectly. She saw the tip of the guard's black boot and flung her arm out, clothes-lining him. The humming stopped. Sydney looked down to see the guard slack-jawed and clearly knocked out. Retrieving her purse and shoes, she slipped her forearms under the guard's arms and started dragging him back the way he had come. Four doors down the hall she saw a sign indicating a supply closet. This door was unlocked so she pushed it open and entered, pulling the guard in with her while she propped open the door with one leg. She closed the door quietly behind her so she could search the guard for a weapon.

"No gun," she muttered. She did find an ASP baton*, though, and was about to leave the closet when something else caught her eye. She was staring jealously at the guard's military-style sweater, a new plan taking form, when Vaughn's voice burst in on her.

"Syd, come on! What are you doing in there? Get moving."

"How close is The Muscle?"

"He's on the other side of the building, but Anna's just exited the office and seems to be heading in the right direction so far."

"Keep an eye on them for me."

"What are doing?"

"I'm stripping the guard."

"What?"

"I can't risk walking around the building to the front where the cars are, so I'm going straight to the back of the property, then I'm going to circle back through the forest to the van. I can't do that in this dress in twenty-degree weather."

"Okay. Just hurry."

She already had the guard stripped down to his underwear, undershirt, and socks. Unfortunately for Sydney, said underwear were bikini briefs. As she peeled off her dress and pulled on his pants, she couldn't help thinking that the color of his underwear was an exact match for the bimbo's lime green dress. She rolled the waist of the pants so that they wouldn't fall off or trip her. As her head was emerging from the neck of the sweater, she noticed a box of discs, each one packed separately in a plastic case, on a nearby shelf. She pulled one out, her eyes searching the rest of the shelves for one more item. Finding it and grabbing the duct tape from its shelf, she let out a quick blessing of all things MacGyver, then used the tape to bind the guard's feet and hands before putting a strip over his mouth for good measure. She switched the new disk with the one in her purse and used the tape to secure the original in what she hoped would be a safer place. She stuffed her dress and shoes behind the shelves before pulling on the heavy boots, which were too big but would have to do. After whispering a quiet apology to the guard (mostly for the humiliation he would experience at having his choice in underwear become common knowledge around the office), she grabbed her purse and the baton and turned toward the door.

"Vaughn, is it clear?"

"Yeah, but hurry, Anna's making quick progress. Turn right into the hallway, then left the first chance you get. The exit is at the end."

Sydney opened and closed the door as quietly as possible. With one look behind her, she started down the hall as fast as she dared, hoping not to make too much noise since she knew that Anna wasn't too far away.

"Syd, I don't have access to the cameras outside. You'll have to take your chances."

"Copy that." She approached the door and, hoping it wouldn't sound an alarm, pushed the bar to open the door a few inches. With no blaring alarm and no guards in sight, she slid through the opening and closed it quietly behind her. The cold air hit her full-force and she was faced with a large expanse of snow-covered ground that eventually was broken up by a thin forest. Beyond the trees were mountains, a gray sky, and a full moon. "I'm outside. Making my way to the tree line." She tried to walk casually, as if she were on patrol, hoping that any other guards in the distance would assume she was one of them. The boots sank a few inches into the snow with each step. She could see her breath drifting through the air in front of her. After only a minute she could already feel the cold taking its toll on her fingertips.

"Anna's almost at the exit," Vaughn informed her.

She set out in a run, more concerned now about her nemesis than about any potential guards seeing her. It didn't take her long to realize that the ill-fitting boots were making her clumsy and slowing her down, so she kicked them off, knowing she would later regret the decision, but thinking that she might not live to regret anything if she didn't pick up some speed. She flinched when her bare feet hit the snow, but took off running again, this time a little faster, but still not anywhere near her usual speed.

"She's at the door," her handler warned. "Are you clear?"

"No. Still thirty yards out." She turned her head just in time to see Anna stepping out into the snow. Hoping that Anna wouldn't shoot for fear of drawing the guards, she kept struggling forward, trying to put some distance between them. One more glance back showed her that Anna was closing in on her quickly. Apparently, being trained in Russia had its advantages, while Sydney's latest disadvantage was that she couldn't seem to catch her breath. She immediately knew the reason and cursed herself and her stupid plan. Instead of ensuring a safe escape, it had resulted in her being frozen, barefoot in the snow, unable to breathe, with an undoubtedly armed enemy much too close for comfort. She should have just dumped the guard and run straight for the exit. Then again, she still would have been exposed to the elements, practically barefoot in her strappy heels, even more unarmed than she was now. But she wouldn't have wasted so much time, and she might have been safe by now, with Vaughn in the van, and she would have been able to breathe, and … She wondered why she couldn't feel her feet anymore.

She was only ten feet away from the tree line when she fell, feeling very much like a ditz in a horror film. Anna was so close that Sydney could now hear her footsteps. She got to her feet just as she heard Anna's voice.

"Don't move."

"Crap," she heard herself say under her breath.

She heard Vaughn's sharp intake of breath. "Syd?"

While she still had her back to Anna, she slid most of the baton's handle up into the sleeve of her sweater.

"Turn around," Anna growled. Sydney complied and saw her rival less than twenty feet away, gun aimed. "Give me the disk."

Sydney watched the white fog of Anna's breath dissipate into the air before answering, "I don't think so." Her lungs had decided to cooperate, but she still felt short of breath. Anna raised an eyebrow and made a show of cocking her pistol. "You won't shoot me."

She heard Vaughn's response in her ear first. "Oh God. Sydney, I'm on my way."

"You overestimate my fondness for you," Anna said with an evil grin.

"If you shoot, the guards will hear the shot. You and I both know you don't want that. Besides, I think you'd miss having me around."

"I don't think I would grieve too long. Enough chatting now. Give me the disk."

Sydney knew the real disk was safe, so she was tempted to just toss the purse, fake disk and all, but Anna would see right through her if she handed it over without too much of a fight. She would have to keep up appearances, but she knew that in her current state she wouldn't last long once they came to blows. Still, she had at least one trick hidden up her sleeve, and it was a doozy.

"Well, we seem to be at an impasse. You can't shoot me, and I'm sure as hell not going to just walk over there and give it to you. If you want it, you'll have to come and get it," she said, wiggling the purse in her left hand, hoping that would get Anna's attention without raising too much suspicion. Anna narrowed her eyes but didn't move. She was probably calculating her options, of which Sydney hoped there were very few. "Come on Anna. It's cold. I can't feel my feet. Let's get this over with."

Anna finally took a few cautious but confident steps forward, looking as if she expected Sydney to run any second now. Playing her role, Sydney turned slightly and took a few quick steps toward the tree line, which prompted Anna to break into a run, coming right at her. Instead of picking up speed, Sydney let Anna catch up with her, which actually wasn't difficult considering her own burning lungs and numb feet. When Anna was just a few feet behind her, Sydney jerked her right arm straight and flicked her wrist. The baton extended to its full length. She'd never heard a better sound than the click of each piece sliding into place. In one fluid motion, she spun around and slammed the baton into Anna's forearm, causing her to cry out in pain and drop the gun into the snow. She recovered quickly, though, and Sydney's next shot, which was aimed at her opponent's other shoulder, was only a glancing blow.

Sydney's grip on the baton was suffering due to the cold, and her lungs were screaming for air. She needed to end this now. She took one kick to the ribs and a punch skimmed her temple before she swung the baton at Anna's upper leg, bringing her down to one knee. Unfortunately, as she pulled the baton back once more, it slipped from her frozen hand and went sailing into the forest. Anna took the opportunity to spin on her downed knee and sweep a leg at Sydney's feet, which sent her flailing through the air. It was then, in mid-air, that Sydney saw the perfect time to put the final step of her plan into action. She let the purse fly out of her hand, having the presence of mind to aim the toss away from the tree line. She landed hard on her back which, incidentally, didn't help her breathing problem. She watched Anna's eyes follow the trajectory of the purse. By the time the purse landed, they were both staring at it. Anna glanced back at Sydney, who made a show of scrambling to her feet. Just as she hoped, Anna aimed a kick at her chest. Sydney didn't resist. She let the kick send her backwards, intending to either feign being knocked out or to slink off into the forest while Anna focused on the purse.

Her intentions, however, were no match for the plan nature had in store. Instead of landing safely in the snow, Sydney found herself skidding backwards on a downward slope of hard-packed snow at the edge of the tree line. She tried to dig her hands and feet into the snow to stop herself, but before she knew it, she felt cold air replacing the snow beneath her. She had run out of ground. She was soaring. Then she was dropping. In reality it had only been a second or two, six or seven feet at the most, but it felt like an eternity. She prepared herself for weightlessness. She was waiting for the freefall. Just when the image of Alice in the rabbit hole started creeping up on her, but before it really had a chance to take shape, she hit hard ground, a rocky embankment. She rolled. She felt skin tearing. She came to a sudden stop on level ground. She was on her back. She looked up into the snowy treetops. Everything hurt. Everything else was cold. Someone asked for her by name. She was hearing things. No one in the forest knew her.

Oddly enough, the last thing she thought of before she passed out was The Muscle's hand clenching into a fist. She realized what it was that had seemed strange. She closed her eyes.