Title: Nothing but the Best
E-mail: eli @ popullus.net
Rating: PG-13
Posted: Feb. 15, 2004
Spoilers: Sometime early S3.
Summary: Sydney had always known Weiss was a good man.
Disclaimer: Take up any real complaints with JJ and ABC. Read.
A/N: What had started as a response to "need smut, now!" from Celli, but turned into angst in between one sentence and the next. Silly characters. You could've had falling-off-the-couch sex, but noooo...




Sydney was trying to get a grasp on the finer points of football. Actually, she'd settle for a slippery hold on the fundamentals. The thing was, Weiss loved the sport, and he was not only there for the third weekend in a row to keep her from counting the planks of wood in her floor, but he had brought alcohol.

Watching the mud and the piling-on and the looong pauses between short bursts of action, though, she really missed the echoing comfort and sharp ice-smell of a hockey rink.

"It's just not the same. I can't tell what half of these guys are supposed to be doing, other than standing there and being huge," Sydney said, throwing her arms open to approximate the width of the shoulders of #78, who was currently filling the television screen as he bumped chests with another behemoth.

Weiss choked on his beer, so Sydney reached a little further and thumped him on the back. Once he stopped wheezing, Weiss offered an apologetic smile.

"Well, yeah, that's about what they're supposed to be doing." Sydney rolled her eyes and Weiss quickly said, "Think of them as bouncers, or hired muscle -- they just stand there and look all intimidating. Hell, they intimidate me, and I've got a gun."

"But most of it's fat," Syd protested. "Seriously, look at those guys." She pointed at the line of men trying to crouch down despite the...they couldn't really be called pot-bellies; the flesh stretching the material of their uniforms was more the size of cauldrons. "That's disgusting. How do they not fall over?"

"Hey. They're finely-toned athletes competing in the top sport in America," Weiss proclaimed.

"Ha!" Sydney thrust her index finger in his face. "You admit that it's not the best sport."

"I didn't say--"

"Yeah, you pretty much did," she said with a laugh.

He dropped his chin to his chest, but that didn't help hide his wince. He looked so cute that Sydney just had to throw her arm around his shoulders and lean her head against his. "I promise not to tell anyone that you betrayed the brotherhood."

"Gee, thanks." He nudged her head back a bit, and her amusement faltered when she found herself looking at a very serious expression.

"What?"

He was close enough that his breath blew the hair that had fallen between them against her cheek, making her flinch slightly at the tickle. With a small smile, he raised his hand to tuck the hair back into her ponytail. "It'd be worth letting that secret out if it meant you'd keep laughing like that."

Sydney's chest tightened. She shrugged, turning away to focus on the television so she didn't have to look at him while she figured out what the hell to say to that. "Weiss--"

"No, Syd, this is the first time I've seen you really enjoying yourself, instead of forcing yourself to." He let out his breath in a huff. "And now I've screwed it up by mentioning it. Great. How about I go find something in your fridge to soak up the three beers I've had, not to mention keeping my mouth too busy to talk?"

Weiss stood, but she grabbed his hand and yanked, knowing she couldn't just let him walk off. As he fell back down on the couch beside her, some of his beer sloshed out of the bottle and pooled on the floor. He let out an exclamation and reached for the napkins they'd tossed on the coffee table to use as coasters, but Sydney tugged on his hand again, bringing him around to face her.

He wouldn't look her in the eyes, instead fixing on a point somewhere between the television and her right shoulder. Letting him pretend to pay attention to the game, she took a moment to examine him, examine his face, which was leaner than it had been, but still not as obviously handsome as Vaughn's. But that wasn't the point. He'd do this -- take a day, a weekend, when he most likely had other things he could be doing, people he could be seeing that he'd met and bonded with over the past two years, and he'd spend it with her, just to make sure she was okay. And now there was a line of worry between his eyebrows, worry that she had to make him understand wasn't necessary.

"You're a good man, Eric."

He jolted, shock widening the eyes that finally met hers. Sydney frowned. Had no one told him that in all the time she was gone?

"You were always the best person out of all of us," she said, holding up her other hand to stop him from interrupting. "You have no idea how much of a difference it makes just knowing that hasn't changed."

He shook his head slowly, opening his mouth to voice what she was sure would be a protest. She let go of his hand to cup his face and lean in for a quick kiss to shut him up. Quick, because that was what was appropriate between friends. But she pulled back even faster than she had meant to because of the slice of sensation that went through her at the feel of his dry lips against hers. Oh, my.

Weiss blinked at her. "Well, um, thanks. Here I am trying to cheer you up, and you make my day by being even sweeter than--"

She kissed him again, a full caress that deepened when she opened her mouth to wet her own lips and the beer-tinged taste of his pushed her forward to sample even more -- the softness inside his upper lip, the ridges of his teeth, then suddenly, the slick slide of his tongue curling against hers. She gasped, and felt him draw in that breath before he gave it back to her as a soft groan that settled deep in her chest.

This is Weiss, part of her muttered. The rest of her simply sagged against him and sighed at how right it felt.

Just as she was getting lightheaded, his hands slid from where they'd been rubbing along her spine to tighten on her jaw, pulling them apart.

"Syd?" Her name blew across her closed eyelids and suddenly it wasn't right. It was, but it wasn't, but she didn't know, and he deserved someone who knew. She had to know.

"Can we just...sit here?" she whispered. "Try to teach me enough about this stupid game that I won't sound like a complete idiot next week?"

Silence. Afraid she'd screwed things up this time, she carefully opened her eyes.

It was a relief to not see anger on his face, to see what might even be a smile. And she prayed that really was understanding in his eyes.

##

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