Written November 2003 on livejournal.com, after staying up too late and letting Celli talk me into it. Mostly her fault. But I also blame the creators of Alias for making Weiss more interesting to me than Vaughn.

When Stavros Met Sofia
by C.L. Kamnikar
copyright 2003

The expression on Weiss's face did not fill Sydney with confidence. Especially not when he flipped a notepad over and began scratching out a message to her. She leaned over his shoulder, and nearly choked at what he'd written.

"Marshall says room is under surveillance. Managed to disconnect video, can't reach audio. New system. Have to stall for next 15 minutes. Continue scenario verbally as established until he signals us."

She grabbed the pen from him and wrote back: "Please say you're kidding."

Aloud, Weiss's voice took on the smarmy tones and language of the Greek banker he'd been impersonating all evening. "Sofia, my dove, you were exquisite tonight. Come over here."

Then wrote back: "Do I sound like I'm kidding?"

Sydney shook her head incredulously, and answered him in the same language, sweet enough to cause cavities: "No, Stavros, you were the unbelievable one."

Weiss gave her a sardonic look and kept writing. "Try to make it convincing, will you?"

"Have I mentioned that your dress must have been designed to be ripped off your body at the first opportunity?"

Bitterly regretting the lusty lovers act they'd used earlier to distract their potential contacts, Sydney glared at Weiss, and grabbed the pen. "Which is why I wore it for you, agapi mou." "This isn't easy, you know!"

"Oh, please. It's not like you haven't done this before. I know the stats. Women fake it all the time."

"Excuse you!"

"And that effort is appreciated, princessa. Indeed." Eric's eyes widened in panic as he abruptly ran out of words, and Sydney would've felt smug except that if they stopped talking, they were going to be in serious trouble. She made 'come on, come on' motions with her hands, and he blurted out, "And your skin glows like diamonds, koukla. More beautiful naked than clothed could ever be. Let me help you rid yourself of that-- garment."

"Oh, please, yes." She was not going to giggle. Weiss was nearly blushing, he looked so embarassed. He grabbed the pen and wrote down, "What the hell do I say now?"

"You're asking me?" she wrote back. "Oh, Stavros. You're so... masterful. Kiss me."

Weiss goggled at her, then smothered a snort of laughter as Sydney made kissing noises as she smooched the back of her hand. Very convincing ones.

"Cut it out. I'm going to laugh, and then we'll die."

"Your turn, and don't you dare laugh, I'll kill you myself."

"Paloma ma," he growled, faking a gasp. Sydney nearly choked trying not to laugh and blush at the same time. That voice? The one he was using right now? Was not fair to her overworked nerves and under-used hormones. No. This was a deadly serious situation, and she should not be getting turned on. Especially by Weiss, who was her friend and Vaughn's best friend and occasionally a real pig. Right. Priorities back in place. Survival, mission, shreds of dignity.

Weiss grinned at her wickedly, then purred, "Let me show you what you mean to me." Ack. She was shivering again. Not fair, not fair, not fair....

And then she had to hold her hand over her mouth and clutch her diaphragm to choke down the hysterical laughter as Weiss started slobbering over his own arm, calling it his beauty, his darling, his princessa, his only true love. She got herself under control, and managed to join in, smacking her lips against her hand enthusiastically, moaning a little as she got into it.

She made the mistake of meeting his eyes, and they both nearly lost it from repressed hysteria. She waved her arms at him, then hit him on the shoulder, backing away with both hands over her mouth for a second as Weiss's entire body shook with silent laughter, hoping the invisible listeners interpreted their gasps as whimpers of passion and not the verge of a joint nervous breakdown. She grabbed the pen and wrote, "How much time left?"

Eric held up one finger, tapped his link, waited a second, then rolled his eyes and wrote, "Marshall says eight more minutes. And nice moaning. He wants you to call me your 'bitch.'"

"I'm so telling Carrie he said that."

"Stavros, beloved, take me!" Sydney flopped down on the bed, and began bouncing up and down, still kissing her arm. "Do for me the things that only you can do!"

Um. Hey. What was that look Weiss was giving her? And why the hell were her toes curling?

"Sofia, paloma, koukla, agoupi ma..." No, no, no, not the Voice. Shut up, damn you Weiss, that wasn't funny, that was hot, that was bad, that was... oh god.

Sydney snorted, almost choked, and kept bouncing up and down on the bed as she bit down on the side of her hand, hard, to push back the giggles that rose up as Weiss attacked a pillow, bouncing on the other bed and yelling out, "Yes! Yes! Yes! More, my princessa, more, give in to me!"

"Stavros!"

"Sofia!"

"Stavrosaki!" Sydney shrieked, torn between wild giggling and hysterical embarassment. Oh god. The guys at HQ would never, ever let her hear the end of this. Eric was rubbing his face and looked mildly ill, then accidentally met her eyes and dissolved into that silent laughter again, pounding his hands on the bed, not in an imitation of passion, but as a way to try to get the hysterics under control.

"My Greek god!"

Weiss jumped up, grabbed the pen, and wrote while Sydney bounced and moaned, "Five more minutes. This sucks. And don't call me a god, I'm gonna blow this completely."

"Don't write things like blow. Or suck. Or I'll lose it right with you."

"Jesus, Syd. You report to Dixon with that mouth?"

She hit him again, and this time the laughter escaped him, helplessly, and she almost broke down completely, but managed to start whimpering and moaning again instead. "Stavros!"

"Sofia!" Weiss bounced along on the mattress with her, like two demented X-rated six-year-olds, and the giggles leaked out despite everything she tried to keep them back. Hopefully, they'd just think Stavros and Sofia were really, really... happy. Or something.

"Come for me!" Eric roared, and that was it, she was squeaking, tears running down her face, she was gonna fall apart from arousal and hilarity and embarassment. This was like a tragic Greek train wreck, with the invisible Chorus probably commentating behind the walls. No, wait, that's what they had Marshall for.

Eric pinched her arm to get her attention, and showed her his latest message. "Please, Syd. If Meg Ryan can do it, so can you. Get us the hell out of this."

"If Marshall records it, I'm going to kill you both."

Sydney took a deep, deep breath, and moaned, "Stavros. Stavros! Stavrosaki! Ohhhhhh! My prince, my only one, my love, oh, oh, oh, oh, OHHHHHHHH, god, yes, Stavros, yes, there! Yes! Yes! God, my Stavros, yes, yes, YESSSSSSSSSSSS!!!" She flopped back onto the mattress with an excess of fake passion, and put her hands over her face, giggling helplessly through her fingers.

"SOFIIIIIA!" Eric yelled at the top of his lungs, operatic and over-the-top and loud, then crashed out on his back next to her, panting like a marathon runner. They both lay there, shaking with repressed laughter, hands slapped over their mouths to keep it as quiet as they could.

"Hee," she whispered breathlessly. "Heh."

"Don't, I can't take it," he muttered in Greek, shaking his head, eyes closed, hands clenched, his mouth drawn tight to hold the laughter in. She rolled over on her side to look at him, and grinned when Weiss batted her away and flopped an arm over his eyes, still wheezing from dramatics and silliness.

God, she couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed like this. A minute later he sat up and said in his normal voice, "Marshall says he's blocked the audio, and we have seven minutes to get out of here before he has to reconnect. And congratulations on your Academy Award."

"I couldn't have done it without my co-star," she said solemnly. "Stavros is a stallion, and--"

Weiss dissolved into real chortles of laughter then, and slipped off the bed onto the carpeting, holding his sides. "Christ, Syd, don't--"

"It wouldn't have been possible without his stamina, his passion, his focus--" She couldn't stop giggling now. "Oh god. Ohhhh, god."

"Don't, don't, *please*, you sound like Sofia."

Which pretty much finished her off, choking and wheezing and falling half off the bed, completely out of control. It took another two minutes for them to stop laughing, only an extra giggle or two escaping as they let it go. Eric wiped his eyes and staggered to his feet. "Damn. Okay. Time we left. Now. Get it together, Syd."

"Right. Good. Yeah." Sydney pushed herself to her feet, but lost her balance, half-falling against him, still weak from laughter and misjudging the distance.

Weiss gasped at the sudden contact, sharp and loud. Sydney's head shot up quickly, worried she'd hurt him.

And that look on his face? That was not pain.

Amazing how fast she could switch gears. Collate all the information, the way SD-6 and the CIA and her dad had taught her. Like: that was not the look of a guy who was just a friend. Like: that was a look that shot adrenaline into her bloodstream, the way it never had when Will had gazed at her the same way. Like: she desperately wanted to know what Weiss sounded like when he wasn't faking it.

Like: your timing sucks, Sydney. And don't think that word, get back onto the mission. Survival. Tiny shredded remains of what was once dignity. The CIA, remember them? "We should go. Now."

Eric's eyes-- just shut down, without twitching an eyelash at all. "Right."

No, don't do that, don't look like that, don't sound like that, be that other Eric, not Weiss, Eric, my friend with the voice and the eyes and the laugh that makes me stay in the moment, this great, happy moment....

"Eric?"

"Yeah?" He looked up from the case, his hand on the doorknob, all trace of that other guy with the warmth and charisma pulled back, tucked in as neat as a CIA suit.

What are you doing, Sydney?

Shut up, whoever you are. Julia or my conscience or my mom, this is my call.

"Do you like Greek food?"

Weiss paused, considering, not getting it. "Yeah, sure, who doesn't? C'mon, let's get out of here, Marshall's waiting."

As she brushed by him on the way out the door, she leaned just close enough to tell him, "You should ask me out for ouzo."

"I... what?" Weiss shook himself, locked the door and followed her down the corridor, hurrying to catch up.

"I was just thinking." She waited a beat. "Greek food. Meg Ryan movies. Maybe some badly dubbed soap operas." She raised an eyebrow at him. "Could be fun."

And now he was getting it. Yeah, Eric, keep looking at me. Just. Like. That. Don't see Vaughn's ex, don't see Sydney the Maybe- Psycho, see me.

"I could be up for that." He caught her reaction to his phrasing, and grimaced, laughing softly. "In fact, already am. Damnit."

"Ditto. Damnit. And do you report to Dixon with that mouth?"

"I can do a lot of things with this mouth."

And in between the lobby and the van, out of sight of Marshall and their pick up, he kissed her like Stavros would've kissed Sofia, if they hadn't been evil, imaginary, and not in love.

Fin

 

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