Thunder cracked out Sydney Bristow's window, reminding her of the spring storm that was brewing over Los Angeles. Caught off guard by the sudden noise, she looked up from the leather bound book she was reading. She half expected to see a ghost in her own living room. Instead she saw only the rain pelting the window.

The house that night was not unusually cool, but the rain had driven in dampness that Sydney did not like and she had lit a fire in the fireplace in front of her sofa. With nothing better to do on the rare occasion she had a night off, she had taken to reading classic literature in old, stuffy books she found at the old bookstore around the corner from her house. She had made her way through Emma and was now working on another of Jane Austen's masterpieces.

Ever since she had started these reading sessions, she had also started a new tradition. She had a glass of wine as well. At first she preferred to drink a bottle of 1975 vintage red wine her father had given her upon moving into her new house, but she had quickly finished that and moved on to the other bottles in her meager liquor cabinet. She was at last down to the remaining bottle: a clear glass bottle of Vodka that was a gift from Weiss. Instead of her fluted wine glass she had used before, she now carried the Vodka bottle and shot glass into the living room when she prepared to sit down for a good night of reading.

She had started on chapter 10 of her latest book when she had realized it was raining that night. After finishing half of the first page of the chapter, her doorbell suddenly rang. She poked her head over the side of the couch and peered at the door. Who would be visiting on a night like this when it was this late? Suspicion rose within Sydney as she slowly got up to walk towards the door. She put her book down, still open to the page she was reading, on the couch. She walked over to the door and peered through the spyglass. At first she didn't see anybody on her front porch, but then she saw a figure turning to leave. Even through the rain she could tell who was visiting her so late at night. After two years working with him, Weiss's shape was unmistakable.

Syd quickly undid the lock on the door and whipped the door open, sending rain droplets that had collected on the sash into her face.

"Weiss! Sorry about that. I was reading," she shouted above the thunder crack just then.

He turned around in mid stride and just stood there for a second. Completely soaked from the downpour, his hair was matted against his forehead. His dark brown raincoat was shiny from the rain coming down.

"Hey, Syd. Just thought I would come by for a visit," he replied to her apology.

"That's fine. Come on in. You're getting soaked out there in the rain. I've already got a fire going in here, so you'll dry out in no time," she said while quickly ushering him into the house. She took his coat from him and laid it down on the chair next to the door, not caring about how the water would affect the upholstery at the moment. Underneath his jacket he still had on the day's blue suit. He had obviously been working late into the night.

Sydney directed him over to another chair, this one directly next to the raging fire. From the look on his face, she gathered that he had something troubling him.

"Come on Weiss. I know you wouldn't come all this way in the rain just to 'make a visit.' What's on your mind?" she asked him.

"I had paperwork to fill out tonight, but I couldn't keep my mind on it. I kept trying to think of all the things that just don't fit about Lauren. Incident after incident. And detail after detail. And then I started thinking about Vaughn. He's so opposed to believing anything unpleasant about his perfect wife. One day I'm just going to start punching if he asks me another stupid question about her. He always asks what I think of her. At this point, I think I've made my position in the matter quite clear to him," he said and then sighed.

Eyeing the bottle on the table, Syd picked up the shot glass and put it down on the corner of the table closest to Weiss.

"After my two already tonight, I think you need this more than I need a third one," she said while pouring the clear liquid from the bottle into the glass. She filled the tiny glass up to the rim and noticed that she still had over half a bottle left of her precious Vodka.

"Thanks. I could use one of these right about now," Weiss said. He reached for the full glass, brought it up to his lips, and downed the entire thing in under a second. "Good stuff, huh? It's my favorite kind. Good and strong. Those Russians know how to make a good Vodka. Hit me again, bartender."

Once again, she filled the tiny glass up to the rim and watched him swill the entire glass down. This time though, he slightly shook his head when he finished.

"I just don't get it. Your dad's already been after him about Lauren. I get it, you get it, anybody with a brain could get it. But Vaughn, all he sees when he looks at her is her huge lips and that hair, which couldn't possibly be her real hair color."

"I'm done talking about Lauren. It's just, I can't. I just can't talk about her. When I do, I need another shot. And then I get more depressed. It's a sad cycle really," Sydney said with her head down. When she put her hand up to her face like she was about to burst into tears, Weiss realized this was possibly not the best topic to talk about when drunk.

He got up from his warm chair beside the fire, took three short steps, and sat down on the couch next to Syd. Sensing she needed a hug, he put his arm around her, enveloping her into his big, warm embrace. As he hugged her, he realized exactly why he loved her so much. It was everything about her put together. There was no single part of her that made her spectacular. Every piece, every feature worked together in harmony to create the perfect symphony that was Sydney. The way she always smelled like vanilla or in this case the Vodka she has consumed earlier. The way her freshly shorn bangs hung down into her eyes just enough to make him want to reach out and brush them slightly aside every time he saw her. And the way her jaw line stood out. He loved that most of all about her. He always had to resist the urge to trace along that magnificent jaw line with his finger.

But every time he thought these things, he knew he had to hold back. She was not his to think these things about. She was his best friend's woman, and yet no man's woman at the same time. Sydney was waiting for a man who was too stubborn and obstinate to realize he had made a mistake during those two years she was gone. In his grief, he had turned to the first woman to make a pass at him and had ended up with the worst possible one: Lauren, a woman bent on his destruction in the end. And because of Vaughn's half-brained decision to move on with his life so quickly, Sydney was left to suffer in his wake. It was if they had stopped at a truck stop while traveling on the road to their future together. She had gone into buy a snack or go to the restroom, and he had simply driven on with a different woman in the passenger seat.

He realized that a hug that he had intended only to last a second had turned into a full minute and withdrew only to find Sydney reach to cover her sobs with her hand. Her deep, wrenching sobs cut him right down the center. His gut did flip-flops and if Vaughn had been anywhere within arm's length, he would have punched him until he was black and blue. How could he, the man who had professed to loving Sydney more than any man could possibly love a woman, not see her beauty and her magnificent soul? If he saw anything close to what Weiss was seeing at that moment, nothing else in the world would matter but Sydney. He would take her in his arms as Weiss always hoped he would be able to do one day and take her away from all her problems. But instead, there they were. Sitting in Sydney's living room with a shot glass and half empty bottle of Vodka.

And it was the Vodka that Weiss reached for to pour another shot for Sydney. If he couldn't take all her problems away, he would help her drown them in a sea of alcohol this stormy night.

He held the glass in front of Sydney and motioned for her to take it. With a quick sob, she grabbed it and downed it. She put it down and he poured her another one. Just as quickly as the first had disappeared, so did this second one. One more drink later, she had three shots of Vodka under her belt in fewer than five minutes. Weiss knew it was his turn to drink a few and quickly poured and downed three of his own drinks. It was quite obvious they were completely drunk at this point. Sydney had started to sway a little while Weiss was throwing back his own liquor, and he now felt like he was swimming in his own head.

"You know, Vaughn's an ass. That's it plain and simple. He doesn't recognize what you are, what you have become to everybody around you. Everything you've gone through, and you still manage to have more strength and character than everybody I've ever known. You're simply beautiful," Weiss said, suddenly having the courage to say what he would never say if he were sober. And with a motion of his hand, he reached up to brush her bangs aside and found himself taking his finger down to trace her jaw line, something he had dreamed about doing so many times.

She drew her hand up and put her own hand over his. Her eyes softened.

"Thank you Weiss. That is the nicest thing somebody has ever said to me. And I appreciate it even more coming from you," she replied, somewhat flushed by his sudden boldness.

She leaned towards him and put her head on his chest, still damp from the rain. Not knowing where to go from there, Weiss put his hand on her back. He breathed in the intoxicating aroma of her hair, a mix of flowers and rain. If he hadn't already been drunk, he could have very easily gotten himself intoxicated simply by smelling her hair.

And there they sat for several minutes. The alcohol had not fully kicked in and the rain was still coming down in a steady downpour outside Sydney's house. Moving away from the fire had made Weiss's shirt chilly from still being damp, and he wanted to take it off desperately. But he knew that one thing would lead to another if he did that, so he let it cling to him under her.

It was Sydney that made the first move. Thinking almost the same thing as Weiss, she wanted him to take off his wet shirt. His sport coat had already been placed over the chair by the door when he came in, so she didn't think about that. Her fingers went up to the buttons on his shirt, first the lower ones, and then she raised her head off of his chest to undo the top buttons.

With his white dress shirt now completely unbuttoned, his undershirt was clearly visible. She could see the scar where he had been shot during that mission two years ago and took her fingers and deftly traced it. A shiver went through him and he quickly covered her hand with his own. The Vodka had fully kicked in that that point, and his boldness knew no limits. He looked right into her face and moved in to kiss her. To his surprise, she did not shrink away. She leaned in as well and her lips met his.

They groped around on each other while they kissed, something that probably made them look like high schoolers discovering making out for the first time. In as awkward as this felt, it also felt natural for him. Many nights he had dreamed what he would do if he was ever in this position with her, and he had followed the plans up to this point.

Not one to let a plan dissolve, he grabbed for the simple V-neck shirt she had on. After gasping for air for a brief second, he once again found her lips and returned to not just kissing, but connecting with her. Daring to separate from her lips for a split second, he pulled her shirt over her head only to discover she had a simple black bra on underneath. The little scar on her stomach was visible only for a brief moment when she leaned back into his embrace.

Whether it was the alcohol or not, she didn't know. What she did know was that at that moment, there was very little that could have stopped her from doing this. She considered Weiss to be a good friend, one of her best. Now that Francie and Will were gone from her life, Weiss was all she had. Did she dare risk losing her friend over a few drinks and a lonely heart? Or was she simply delusional after not taking a breath in what seemed like minutes? Her lips withdrew from Weiss's, and she gasped for air. Could she really do this?

"Weiss, we shouldn't be doing this," she gasped, choking on her words.

"I don't care," he said, chest heaving also from lack of air.

"Okay, I just wanted to make that clear," she said and leaned back into him.

Just as she was about to undo his pants, light from a car's headlamps shone into the living room from the driveway. Sydney managed to convince herself that they were simply the lights of a wayward driver, lost in the great storm that seemed to be enveloping Los Angeles. She dismissed any thought of the lights when they quickly disappeared as soon as they had appeared. She leaned even farther into Weiss, knowing exactly where this would take them.

Just as she went in for another kiss though, the doorbell rang for the second time that night. No, it's impossible, she thought. One visitor during a storm was unusual. Two was unheard of, even more so because of the time that elapsed between when Weiss had first arrived and now.

But they were too far along in what they were doing to stop now, and both Sydney and Weiss did not make any move to get up to answer the door. Instead they kept groping at each other wildly, each time getting closer and closer to what they both know was going to happen.

The visitor outside though was too insistent on his visit and rang the doorbell again, this time three times in a row. Desperately hoping that the last night visitor wasn't her father, Sydney knew that even though she did not want to extract herself from Weiss's arms, she was going to have to.

She half rolled off of Weiss and grabbed her shirt that he had flung unto the table to cover herself up. She quickly ran over to the door, not having enough time to properly put on her shirt so she simply held it in front of her.

She quickly undid the lock on the door that her father had been so insistent she got when she moved into her new house. She swung the door open and for the second time that night had rain droplets fly into her face.

Standing on the stoop was the most unlikely of people. It was Vaughn, holding a black wig that looked suspiciously familiar. He was completely soaked with rain, even with having only stood there for a few short seconds. The look on his face was one of pure desperation. It was one of a man on the last few threads of his dignity. He looked crushed, but ecstatic to see her at the very same time. He pushed his way into her house and just stood there.

"Sydney, I'm so sorry. You were right all along. Everybody was. Your father, Weiss, everybody. I don't know how I could have missed it. All the signs were there, but I was too blind to notice the, much less put them together," he managed to say in one breathe.

She just stood there, stunned. She had known that Lauren was bad news all along. She had even tried to check up on her, but nothing had looked like it was all that far out of place. All she had had was her suspicions, and it now looked like those had been right all along.

Through all of this, she hoped that Weiss had enough brain to stay down below the side of the couch. She hoped that in his emptiness that Vaughn would not notice the sport jacket next to him or the white dress shirt hung haphazardly over the side of the couch.

It took her a very long moment to realize what he had said and what it meant to everything between them.

"Vaughn, it's okay. Everything is going to be okay," she cooed, dropped her shirt, and reached to give him a hug to comfort him. The moment of togetherness was cut short though when Vaughn withdrew with a confused look on his face.

"Sydney, why is there a jacket on that chair? And the shirt on the couch? It looks too big to be yours. Syd, what is going on here? Is somebody else here?" Vaughn questioned with a desperate look in his eyes.

Sydney did not want to break his heart for the second time that night, but she knew she would have to confess what had gone on between her and Weiss that night. Not to mention that he was still on her couch.

At that very moment, Weiss popped his head over the side of the couch and slowly rose from the couch. Still in his undershirt, but now a lot more sober due to Vaughn's arrival and disclosure, he too knew that Vaughn would have to know about the night's activities.

"Vaughn, you should know what's going on here so you don't get the wrong idea. I came over to talk to Sydney, we got really drunk, and you can obviously tell what was about to happen. That's what went on. Plain and simple," Weiss confessed, knowing full well that this was the last thing that Vaughn needed after discovering his wife's true nature.

"Oh my god. I don't understand... I just... I can't deal with this right now," Vaughn managed to stammer after having a minute to process this new information. He turned and ripped open the door. He ran out into the rain to get into his car. Sydney moved to run after him after a brief second, but he had a head start on her and was already at his car by the time she was on her driveway.

He started the car and quickly backed out. The car's headlights cut through the downpour. Vaughn put his foot to the accelerator and sped away. Sydney was left standing on her driveway in the rain, crying. She slowly walked back into the house and closed the door. Dripping wet, she just stood in front of the door. Her bangs were hanging down in front of her eyes, and her bare arms had goosebumps from the cold rain. She was more sober than she had ever been in her life, even after the evening's five shots of Vodka.

During the time Sydney was running after Vaughn, Weiss had grabbed his shirt and coat, redressed and waited for her to come back inside the house. When she got inside, he was standing there, fully dressed, waiting for her.

"Syd, I think I have to go," he bluntly said to her.

He breezed right past her standing in front of the door and quietly exited into the rain again.

Sydney was left standing in her living room. The fire was still going in the fireplace and the now empty Vodka bottle was sideways on the table. In the heat of the moment between her and Weiss, her book was knocked off the couch. The leather cover of Sense and Sensibility shone in the firelight.