Title: Need To Destroy Author: hold_that_thought Email: apostmodernsleaz@aol.com Rating: NC-17 Summary: Answers aren't always worth the price of the questions. Spoliers: S3.9: 'Conscious' Ship: Syd/Lauren Disclaimer: The characters used within are the property of Bad Robot, and JJ Abrams. Notes: All for Dreamtree. She threw down the gauntlet, and I had to take it, as usual. Also for Minim Calibre and JennyO, who also looked at the episode and went, "Huh...slash!" (Completed 12/01/03) -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sydney used to wonder whether she'd ever sleep again. Not resting, which is all she'd been doing since waking up in Hong Kong, but actually sleeping. Closing her eyes and letting go. Dr. Brezzel had given sleep back to her, but in doing so had taken away her ability to sink into dreams without second-guessing what was a memory, what was a dream, a symbol or maybe a key to those missing two years. Most of it, Sydney managed to ignore. But one fragment pulled at her, even when she was awake. Baby-powder skin and pale blue sheets, hurried touches and cold whispers. It was horrible -- something so intimate that she could only grab the edges of. She'd be washing dishes, or watching videos with Weiss, and try to conjure up a face, a name, anything that would tie her dreams to reality. After two weeks, she called Brezzel. In-between the breathy rambling about potato chips and what a beautiful day it was outside, she gleaned the basics needed to get back into a semi-lucid dreaming state. Meditation, basically. Sydney could do that. She's picked up some tricks from Francie when she was on a big yoga kick a couple years back. The requisite Enya drifted out of the stereo, and patchouli-scented candles were scattered around the room as Sydney sat on the bed. Slowly, she leaned back into her fat pillows and fluffy comforter and shut her eyes. In, out, steady, even, she let the whooshing of her breath fill her ears. It became her own metronome as her arms and legs grew still, heavy. And she was back in the hallway, plastic strips hanging from the ceiling. The translucent barriers were slick against her hands as she pushed past them, moving towards the faint glow that seemed so far off. Finally, Sydney pushed through the last bit of plastic and came to a stop in front of a door. Beige, plain, marred only by an incongruously black doorknob. She twisted it, pushed the door open. The candles around the room cast a soft glow, and at the sound of Sydney's entrance, the blonde in the corner turned. "You're late," the soft, British voice sighed, as Lauren stood up to meet her. "C'mon, Syd, you're gonna be late to work." "Huh?" Sydney mumbled. "Wake. Up." Her eyes snapped open, vision filled with worried brown eyes and a frown. "Weiss?" "I stopped by to see if you wanted to grab breakfast. You know you fell asleep with your front door unlocked?" "I did? Oh." She rubbed her eyes and yawned. "You okay?" he said, walking over to the dresser and blowing out the last lit candle, which had been burned almost to the end. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." Sydney smiled. She had no confidence in that statement. The rest of the day dragged on, as the dream fragment nagged at her. In every meeting and conversation, her mind drifted back to that room with the candles and Lauren. She studiously avoided Mr. And Mrs. Vaughn the entire day, making herself scarce or preoccupied each time one of them entered the room. By the time the day was over and Sydney got home, it was all she could do to make herself take a shower and eat before retreating back into her bedroom. Sleep came even faster this time, hurried on by Sydney's desire to see as much as she could before morning came again. The candles around the room cast a soft glow, and at the sound of Sydney's entrance, the blonde in the corner turned. "You're late," the soft, British voice sighed, as Lauren stood up to meet her. "Julia, you know I want you to call me before going off on one of Lazarey's errands." "Sorry, there wasn't any time," Sydney said. Her voice tasted foreign in her mouth, and she moved automatically to the bed, just a passenger in her own body. "Are you ready for your big performance tomorrow?" Lauren asked, loosening the sash of her robe and letting the thin silk slip away and fall into a crimson puddle on the floor. "Of course. Helping the man fake his own death is easier than killing his enemies, like I've been doing for the past six months." She reached out and pulled Lauren towards her, both of them freefalling back onto the bed. "Well, you know how I worry," Lauren said, reaching down and pulling Sydney's top off with a mischievous grin. Sydney ran her hands up Lauren's back, feeling the strong muscles concealed under the slender, soft body. Just like she knew ruthlessness hid under that baby face and disarming smile. Lauren moaned and threw her head back, then bent forward and brushed a nipple against Sydney's cheek. Sydney nuzzled her breasts, tracing her tongue around the nipple. Lauren's skin was soft, smelling of baby powder and sweat. "Oh, Julia," she said, "you always know how to wake up to a beautiful day in Los Angeles. The weather outside is simply stunning. We go now to Kayla, in the chopper. Kayla's gonna tell us how the traffic is this morning. Kayla?" Sydney hit the snooze button on her clock radio and buried her head in her pillow. She could still taste Lauren's skin against her tongue, feel hot breath against her neck. More disturbingly, she was incredibly turned on. By Lauren. Vaughn's wife. By someone who was definitely not Vaughn. She pushed herself up and padded over to the shower, cranking it on cold and scrubbing like a maniac. Again, she avoided Lauren and Michael in the office. When Lauren did catch her eye, Sydney blushed fiercely and quickly busied herself with the mug of coffee that was rapidly cooling in her hands. Lauren obviously symbolized...something. Sydney's jealousy. Wanting to be the one who held Vaughn at night. Or a representation of everything she'd lost in those two years. But it wasn't anything that would help recover her missing memories. Sydney had to...to exorcise that weird dream. Find a way to get it out of her system so she could get on with her life. That night, Sydney lit the patchouli candles and swore this would be the last time she dreamed of Lauren. Back in the hotel room, Lauren moaned and threw her head back, then bent forward and brushed a nipple against Sydney's cheek. Sydney nuzzled her breasts, tracing her tongue around the nipple. Lauren's skin was soft, smelling of baby powder and sweat. "Oh, Julia," she said, "you always know how to make my body hum. It's almost enough to make me forget you stood me up last night." Sydney bit her lip as Lauren's hands slipped beneath the covers, slithering into Sydney, rocking their hips back and forth together. "I'm sorry, Lauren. You know how Lazarey is. Can I make it up to you somehow?" Lauren nodded. "You can. And you will." She winked and twisted her hand, brushing across Sydney's clit and sending waves of warmth rushing through her body. Sydney clawed at Lauren's back, dragging her nails across the skin, almost enough to draw blood. Almost. When her hips stopped bucking, Sydney sighed and leaned back into the fat down pillows. "That's my girl," Lauren said, gently placing her lips against Sydney's. Sydney reached up, threaded her fingers through Lauren's hair, and greedily sucked on her lower lip, nipping at the other woman's mouth and smiling. Lauren pulled back and sat on Sydney's legs, looking down at her. "You know I'm leaving, right?" Sydney sat up. "When?" "The day after tomorrow. I'm going to Los Angeles to meet the CIA officer I'm to seduce." "When will I see you again?" Lauren shrugged. "I'm not sure where I'll be stationed." "I'll find you." "I know you will, Julia," she smiled, cupping Sydney's cheek. She awoke with a start, ten minutes before her alarm was set to go off. Her thighs were warm and still twitching. In a haze, Sydney stumbled into the bathroom and cranked the shower on, as hot as it would go. The water almost scalded her, and steam clouded the mirror. Which was fine by Sydney because she wasn't sure who'd be reflected back at her. Wasn't sure she wanted to see. She did, however, know one thing. It wasn't a dream. In the office, she waited only semi-patiently, tapping a pencil against her desk and biting her lip. Glancing around the room every few minutes. Finally, she saw Lauren go into the bathroom. A minute later, Sydney followed, carefully checked for anyone else inside, then locked the door. Lauren was in front of the mirror, pursing her lips as she smoothed a pale pink lipstick over her mouth. When she was satisfied with what she saw, she capped the lipstick and turned to leave, giving a small jump of surprise when she saw Sydney leaning against the door. "Oh, hello Sydney. I didn't hear you come in," she smiled. "Lazarey's not dead," Sydney said, careful to keep her voice steady and calm. "He's not?" Lauren frowned. "What in the world makes you say that?" "You know it's true." "I don't know what you're talking about." Sydney grabbed her by the wrist and backed her into the wall. "Ow! Miss Bristow, let go of me this instant!" Sydney leaned forward and crushed her mouth against Lauren's, snaking her tongue past that perfect pink lipstick, pressing their bodies together. Lauren struggled for only a second before melting into her, wrapping her free arm around Sydney's waist and pulling her close. When Sydney finally pulled back, Lauren beamed at her. "Julia. You came back to me." Desperate to make this a dream, Sydney pushed Lauren's skirt up, ran her hands up her thighs and brushed her fingertips over her panties. After all, Sydney Bristow wouldn't do this with Lauren Reed. She couldn't. And it didn't matter what happened in a dream, right? Lauren's breath hitched as Sydney grabbed at her, pushing and pulling and doing everything to make her scream. She finally did scream, softly, pulling Sydney towards her so she could bury her face in her shoulder. After Lauren's breathing slowed back to normal, she pushed Sydney away slightly and grinned. "That's my girl." Sydney felt cold, and her cheek stung as though she'd been slapped. She stepped back, stumbling slightly as she lurched towards the door. "Wait," Lauren said, reaching out to her. Sydney fumbled with the lock then wrenched the door open, blinking against the fluorescent lights of the office and surprised stares of her coworkers. Sydney used to wish for sleep. Now, she just wanted to wake up again. END