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Distribution: Anywhere - I'll say yes, just ask first.

Disclaimer: Surpise - Alias doesn't belong to me! Or else I wouldn't be searching for hours just for some Starbucks money. And Will would've died a long time ago. Everything belongs to J.J. Abrams, ABC, Touchstone, and Bad Robot.

Summary: Just a little peek into Sydney's head. or how I want it anyway. (

Rating: G

Classification: Angst/Romance

Falling.

Such a strange word.

Falling.

It brought feelings of hardness, of pain.

Falling.

Losing control, spinning through space.

Falling.

She hated it. And loved it.

Falling.

The first thing she always thought of was black space.

Falling.

Then came a hard, concrete floor.

Falling.

Her head, striking the ground, the pain ringing through her body.

Falling.

And then something else came.

Falling.

It wasn't physical anymore. Well, not really.

Falling.

Soft, fuzzy, warm.

Falling.

Light filling a dark room.

Falling.

A slight smile here, a grazing touch there. Sending shivers down her spine.

Falling.

How ironic it was that she, Sydney Bristow, controlled, strong, super-spy, was falling for the one man she couldn't - wouldn't - let herself have.

Falling.

For someone with no first name.

Falling.

For someone who didn't even have green eyes.

Falling.

For an enigma she didn't know how to decipher.

Falling.

For the ever-clichéd enemy.

Falling.

For Sark.