allie g. (pamplepoose) wrote in variorum,
allie g.

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Simplicity of a Song

Fanfiction? Why yes, it is.

A/N: This is not the best piece of fiction. In fact, it might just be the worst Alias fan fiction out there. I wrote it on a whim, and if it sucks I truly do apologize. I hope that you can find something to enjoy about it!

Disclaimer: Don't own Alias. J.J. (that lucky bastard) owns it. (By the way, I have nothing but pure admiration for that man) So please...don't sue me. I'm poor. Very poor.


"This has to be one of the most depressing songs, ever."

"Now what would make you think that?"

"Just...just listen to it! How much more depressing can you get?"

"I'm rather found of it and don't find it a bit depressing in the least."



"That's pretty surprising. What do you feel it is then?"




"Your outlook on life must be pretty screwed then. And your choice of music so far is depressing. Next time I get to bring a cd to put in your car."

"Whoa. First you insult my choice in music, and now demand a space in the c.d. player. I don't know, doesn't sound too appealing to me."

"Oh come on!"


"Score one for the girlfriend."

Banter like this was extremely unusual for Sydney Bristow. Very rarely was she able to argue about something so little and minute as a taste in music. If only all her arguments were like this.

"So, do you mind picking me up tomorrow also? Hopefully my car will be out of the shop pretty soon." She steps out of his car, picking up her purse , and looking down as she is standing on the curb, ready to close the door to his car.

"I don't mind at all. So, I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early?" He smiles at her with that unique smile of his.

"Bright and early!" she takes the step down from the curbs and reached bent inside to give him a small kiss.



Once at home, Sydney Bristow retreats into her room and decides to draw a bath and, well, relax. It had been a stressful week, and she owed it to herself to just stop and enjoy something like a bubble bath.

The hours went by, and slowly she realized that her roommate, Francie, was out of town. It had slipped her mind that she had left to see family for the weekend. Sydney had the house to herself, which meant all the time in the world (well, at least the evening before Saturday-yes Saturday- at the office) She decided to go through her ever growing collection of cds in her room. Each cd was kept in its case inside an old storage box underneath her bed. Peering under the bed and holding her breathe as to not choke on the dust, she pulled out the box that she had bought her freshman year of college out and realized how heavy it had become over the years. Inside she found a milleu of cds, ranging from Nancy Sinatra to the soundtrack from American Pie.

Could her taste be more eclectic?

After searching for what seemed like hours, she found the absolutely perfect cd to play in the car.

"Vaughn will adore this."


"So what do you have this morning?" after a quick peck on the cheek, her driver and boyfriend, Agent Michael Vaughn, peers over into what she has in her hands. Obviously a cup of coffee, her small purse, and as promised, a cd. "So, who would that be?

"Not telling. You probably haven't heard of them anyway."

"Oh." Eyebrows raised, his devilish smile appears, causing dimples to show. She loved his dimples. "I'm sure I've heard of whoever it is."

"Vaughn, I promise you, you've never heard of them." She brushed her hair behind her ears. She was nervous and excited, a mixture of emotions running through her on this ride to work.

"Well...put it in."

Sydney fiddled with the CD case, pulling out the CD while trying to keep the artist's name hidden from her intrigued partner. She pulled out the CD and pushed it into the began reading the tracks, and she turned up the volume.

Is this the real life-
Is this just fantasy-
Caught in a landslide-
No escape from reality-
Open your eyes
Look up to the skies and see-
I'm just a poor boy,I need no sympathy-
Because I'm easy come,easy go,
A little high,little low,
Anyway the wind blows,doesn't really matter to me,
To me

"You're joking, right?" Vaughn was perplexed. This whole time he thought it would be a meaningful touching song. "A band I've never heard of....this is Queen!" He muttered under his breath, in shock of what his girlfriend, Agent Sydney Bristow, a genius with the ability to kill had chosen!

"Shh! I'm singing!"

I see a little silhouetto of a man,
Scaramouche,scaramouche will you do the Fandango-
Thunderbolt and lightning-very very frightening me-
Galileo Galileo
Galileo figaro-Magnifico-

"You've got to be kidding me!" Vaughn was beyond perplexed at he stared at his girlfriend singing to the top of her lungs.

"What? It's not depressing!"

"Yes it is. What is this?" Vaughn inhales and sings along to the final verse of the song:

Nothing really matters,
Anyone can see,
Nothing really matters...nothing really matters to me....

"Vaughn, you can't sing."

"Shh, wait! Here's the best part, and it's more depressing than the last line!"

Take me where the wind blows...

"Vaughn, seriously, you can't sing." She tries to hold in the fit of laughter thats building up inside. He had to be joking. The poor man couldn't sing if his life depended on it.

"What? You can't sing worth anything either."

A moment passed, as the next track came on, then laughter.

Both laughed hard. They laughed at each other, at the song, and at the irony of events.

How one song on a "normal" drive to work, and a "normal" office could mean so much, they couldn't explain. Moments like these were rare, and soon they were both in silence.

Five minutes passed, then ten, and finally Vaughn's voice broke the silence.

"So next time how about I bring in a song...another "non-depressing" song."

"That would be lovely."
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