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Not Her Body

by Gail (gem225@hotmail.com)

Alias

Michael Vaughn/Eric Weiss

Rating: adult

Sydney's gone. Vaughn isn't coping too well. Weiss tries to help.

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story do not belong to me, and I make no profit from this story.

Please do not archive this story without asking me first. It's more than likely that I'll agree, but I want to know where my stories are.

Spoiler: The Telling

Takes place during the second-season finale "The Telling".

Thanks to Tinnean, Celli, Christine, wistful_fever, simplelyric, and poohmusings for encouragement, with special thanks to Tinnean and Christine for betaing.

Celli most kindly made me this cover to go with the story.

*****

He sits at his desk - at least he thinks that's where he is - and tries to make sense of it all. Sydney's gone - they can't find her - glass and blood everywhere in that place, *her* place, and her blood...

Her blood. But not her body.

He clings to that as though it were everything, and for a while, it is.

*****

"Hey." Weiss's face looms, and Vaughn wonders how bad he looks after not enough sleep (dreams, nightmares - was it like this for her when he was missing? Did she think he was dead? No, he'd heard stories; she never stopped looking for him) and too much coffee and flying all over the world to follow up leads that turned out to be false.

Bad enough to have his friend worried.

"Hey," Weiss says again, and Vaughn realizes that he hasn't answered.

"Hey." He rubs his eyes. Maybe this is another dream. If it is, it sucks. "What's up?"

"Not you. You're leaving."

Weiss doesn't give him time to answer, just grabs Vaughn's arm and hauls him up and it's strange how Vaughn's body feels like it isn't really there, but what isn't strange now?

He's sure everyone's watching him - them. But no one does anything, or if they do, he doesn't catch it.

Weiss gets him in his car and, he guesses, drives them home, because when he opens his eyes he's not in the car any more. Not home. Weiss's place, but that's as good as home. Maybe better.

This isn't the first time he's ended up at Weiss's place and eventually in bed with him. They don't talk about it, but a beer and pizza can lead to two beers, three, and you don't drive drunk, and they both have couches for friends who've had too many.

The first time was on the couch. He can't remember how it started, blames it on the beers. Convenient excuse, but it'll do. He remembers taking out his dick and looking at it, stroking it, then looking at Weiss.

He'd never seen Weiss look so hungry before, and the look didn't go away until they were done.

It wasn't the last time he saw that look.

Better to remember that look now than her. Maybe he could get Weiss to look at him like that again.

"Any hockey on?"

"If you're going to get me to watch hockey, I need beer."

Weiss has to be tired too. He should ask how he's doing, be a friend, not whatever he is, which is probably more like a pain in the fucking ass, but he doesn't want to be a friend. He wants to stop thinking about her (where is she, is she all right, are they hurting her, is she screaming, is she screaming for him). He wants it to go away.

Maybe with Weiss's help he can make it go away for the night.

Why hadn't Rambaldi built a time machine? He'd get in it or attach it or let it suck out his blood, as long as it took him back. Maybe even back before she showed up.

"You got beer?"

Weiss smiles, and he decides that he likes Weiss's smile, but that's not a news bulletin. His smile's almost as good as that hungry look.

"Yeah, I got beer."

Weiss clicks on the TV, tosses him the remote, and heads for the kitchen. He sprawls on the couch and punches in the numbers for ESPN. Yeah, hockey, and beer on the way.

*****

It isn't her body he's touching, not her skin, not her bones, not her... but it's the best he can do without going into all the reasons he needs a body to hold onto.

His arm tightens around Weiss, and he shuts his eyes. He can sleep here, and tomorrow they'll go back and...

And go on. Look for her. Believe that she'll be found.

But tonight, he'll sleep, here, with his friend.

The End

Posted 9/19/03

Alias

Fiction