New Fic: Appointed Hours (Alias)
Dec. 16th, 2003 10:27 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
vaznettiFirst and foremost, Happy Birthday SEP! I hope you feel well soon.
Next, a new Alias story. I was bound to start writing about Sloane sooner or later, since he's my new secret boyfriend. Three drabbles over three years.
Title: Appointed Hours
Author: Vanzetti (vanzetti@populli.net)
Rating: G
Summary: The role of bereaved husband comes easily to Arvin Sloane.
Disclaimer: JJ, Bad Robot, ABC. I simply borrow what's theirs.
Distribution: Cover Me, list archives, otherwise with permission
1.
"She was cremated," Irina says.
Sloane tastes ash on his tongue. Jack's decision, he thinks. Sydney wouldn't understand his horror: Emily's body reduced to ashes and tossed about on the winds. Jack might, had he considered it.
Beneath Irina's sympathetic mask, he can see that she guesses what he feels, perhaps why as well. She has asked little of him since they left Tuscany, and he of her, but he is aware of Irina's growing impatience. Time has not, in fact, stopped for everyone else. There are plans, schedules, appointed hours yet to come.
"Thank you," he responds, swallowing bitterness.
2.
Ashes in the wind. He returns to Tuscany precisely one year later, listening for Emily's voice in the rustling olive-leaves. The American government is wary, but Sloane is a master at playing on his countrymen's sentimentalism. The role of bereaved husband comes easily.
The garden is untended: red dust and green-black cypresses. Emily would see its beauty and dream of ways to improve on that beauty; he sees only a weed-choked ruin, peaceful as an empty tomb. It has been a dry spring, in Italy. A lizard runs along a cracked paving-stone, a hawk wheels overhead.
She is not here.
3.
The villa burns to the ground in December; Sloane hardly notices. On the second anniversary he closes the office; his staff eye him with confused sympathy and thank him for the holiday.
He considers returning to the monastery, but knows that this is not the time. Instead he stands on another mountainside, not quite half a world away. There are wildflowers everywhere, blue and white and yellow, bright against the bright grass the way the white clouds are bright against the shining blue of the sky. He takes a deep breath, tastes ash on the mountain air.
She is everywhere.
end
Thanks to Rez for looking it over and helping me fix a few problems.
Next, a new Alias story. I was bound to start writing about Sloane sooner or later, since he's my new secret boyfriend. Three drabbles over three years.
Title: Appointed Hours
Author: Vanzetti (vanzetti@populli.net)
Rating: G
Summary: The role of bereaved husband comes easily to Arvin Sloane.
Disclaimer: JJ, Bad Robot, ABC. I simply borrow what's theirs.
Distribution: Cover Me, list archives, otherwise with permission
1.
"She was cremated," Irina says.
Sloane tastes ash on his tongue. Jack's decision, he thinks. Sydney wouldn't understand his horror: Emily's body reduced to ashes and tossed about on the winds. Jack might, had he considered it.
Beneath Irina's sympathetic mask, he can see that she guesses what he feels, perhaps why as well. She has asked little of him since they left Tuscany, and he of her, but he is aware of Irina's growing impatience. Time has not, in fact, stopped for everyone else. There are plans, schedules, appointed hours yet to come.
"Thank you," he responds, swallowing bitterness.
2.
Ashes in the wind. He returns to Tuscany precisely one year later, listening for Emily's voice in the rustling olive-leaves. The American government is wary, but Sloane is a master at playing on his countrymen's sentimentalism. The role of bereaved husband comes easily.
The garden is untended: red dust and green-black cypresses. Emily would see its beauty and dream of ways to improve on that beauty; he sees only a weed-choked ruin, peaceful as an empty tomb. It has been a dry spring, in Italy. A lizard runs along a cracked paving-stone, a hawk wheels overhead.
She is not here.
3.
The villa burns to the ground in December; Sloane hardly notices. On the second anniversary he closes the office; his staff eye him with confused sympathy and thank him for the holiday.
He considers returning to the monastery, but knows that this is not the time. Instead he stands on another mountainside, not quite half a world away. There are wildflowers everywhere, blue and white and yellow, bright against the bright grass the way the white clouds are bright against the shining blue of the sky. He takes a deep breath, tastes ash on the mountain air.
She is everywhere.
end
Thanks to Rez for looking it over and helping me fix a few problems.
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no subject
Date: 2003-12-17 11:14 am (UTC)Like the Italy touch, too.
Just bought the Alias S2 DVDs and am watching like mad. But I don't think I'm going to finish before I leave for Oxford on Fri. Aargh! I really wanted to see them before I try to embark on that Sark fic (am still wondering what was I high on when I said I would do that).
Do you happen to know whether one can play U.S. DVDs on U.K. DVD players? My guess would be no, one can't, because how would that benefit capitalism?
no subject
Date: 2003-12-17 12:09 pm (UTC)That cracks me up, but only because it's so very, very true. I think that if one happens to own a multi-region DVD player, one can, but I'm not really good with that kind of thing. There is apparently some way that really clever people can re-program their DVD players (no, really!) to make this happen. I still can't use my VCR, which should give you an hint about my capacities.
I'm glad you liked this. Have fun with the S2 DVDs. You will be fine. Send me an email if you have thoughts/want to discuss anything.