Disclaimer: Proud to say, have no claim over The Wrinkle.

A/N: A certain computer program, that shall remain nameless, seems to have something against ‘fragments’. I, for one, love fragments and shall continue to write using them. I’ll show that PROGRAM.

The Wrinkle

No matter when. No matter where. It is there. Always watching. Always waiting. Biding its time, existing for the right opportunity. Just waiting for the chance to come out.

In the beginning, it was harmless, endearing even. It appeared at all the right points in time. It was sweet, how it could care so much. It could make your heart yearn; make you feel like you wanted to die. In a good way of course.

It was what made Vaughn so loveable. She would turn and walk away and he would look so longingly after her. He would look so concerned, so believable. But if you think about it, it was a bit disturbing.

Time passed and its charm started to wear away. It became more noticeable and a little less likeable. The ‘I love you but I can’t have you’ look was starting to grate. The look of concern became less sweet, more needlessly worrying. The Wrinkle was starting to take over.

Then, finally, everything went right. They were together and The Wrinkle looked to be gone forever. Or so you would think.

It had gotten a taste for fame and it wasn’t going to give up easy. It started to appear at random times, when it wasn’t needed. It was a little confusing. It made Vaughn seem like, well, a wuss. What now you would say when again it made an appearance. It was gaining hold.

That night, that fateful night when Sydney seemed to be... dead. That was when The Wrinkle won. What happened during the next two years could only have made it stronger. Who knows if at his wedding he frowned worriedly during the whole ceremony? Perhaps people in the pews, the ones who didn’t know him too well, whispered, “What’s wrong with Michael? He looks as if he’s at a funeral, not getting married. Why is he frowning?

And perhaps Weiss would reply, “Don’t worry about Vaughn, that’s how he always looks”

All we know is that the night Sydney returned, The Wrinkle was there. Permanently. It was there in the office, it was there on the missions. But not just there sometimes. It was always there. It had become ingrained. Time and The Wrinkle had done its work. There was no escaping it now.

Now it made you want to scream. Frequently it succeeded. “You wuss! You weedy, worrying pipsqueak! Stop frowning! Stop looking worried! Stop it STOP IT!!!”

But there was no stopping it. There was nothing you could do.

It would never leave his forehead. The Wrinkle was Vaughn.

Hehehe. I feel so happy now.