The Camera Never Lies

Rating: PG

Pairing: Sydney/Weiss

Spoilers: I’ve seen up to Season 3 Episode 2, so up till then only.

Notes: For the LiveJournal Writer’s Choice “Photographs” challenge. I’m spoiler free for everything beyond 3X02, please remember if you’re commenting… Christine, you asked for it, you got it!

 

One thing Sydney doesn’t miss from her old life is the photographs.

 

She used to have literally hundreds of them, in boxes in closets, in albums on shelves, in frames on the walls, on tables. Pictures of good times, good memories, pictures that would make her smile.

 

But those photographs are gone now; two year old ash, floating on the breeze.

 

She could have replaced them of course. Her father let her rummage through his belongings and she found some that were very close to ones she’d lost. Ones of her as a child, either her mother, or father, or both smiling out at her, the very image of a happy family. Ones of her parents’ wedding day, the very image of a couple in love. One of her and Danny from their engagement party, both of them smiling, her ring finger shining diamond bright. Her and Will and Francie, taken not long before she went missing, at a party at Francie’s restaurant.

 

She sat in her father’s living room, and she wanted to take them, but she couldn’t. Because she’d always heard that the camera never lied, but those pictures were the living proof that that was wrong.

 

Because her family was never really that happy.

 

Her parents were never that in love.

 

She was lying to Danny when that picture was taken, about her job, her life.

 

And the woman standing beside her in the last picture wasn’t Francie, but a doppelganger, and Sydney never even knew the difference.

 

She thinks of those pictures now, those happy, smiling pictures, and they sicken her, because all she can see are lies.

 

She only has one photograph in her living room now, but it’s one that makes her smile. It was taken on her first New Year’s Eve back from the dead, and she was alone. Her father wasn’t celebrating, Vaughn was off with his wife, Will was in Witness Protection, Francie was dead. She was expecting to spend an evening in with videos and junk food when there was a knock at the door.

 

She was surprised to see Weiss there, looking as if he was all ready to hit the town, was even more surprised when he asked her what her plans were. She opened her mouth, all ready to lie to him when he stopped her. “You’re not staying in – you can come to my sister’s party.” It was a statement, not a question, and she was all ready to protest, but he didn’t let her. “Syd, she’s got a big house, cast of thousands, I’m hardly going to know anyone there, so do me a favour, get some glad rags on and come keep me company, huh?”

 

It doesn’t sound like much, but it was an offer she couldn’t refuse, so she donned her classic little black dress, did something with her hair and makeup, and joined him at the party. He hadn’t been kidding about the amount of people there, but he seemed to know a lot of them, made sure that she was introduced, that she wasn’t left out of conversations.

 

His sister, Sydney discerned at once, was a female Weiss, something very evident when she looked at the two of them, asking, “So, how long have you two been together?”

 

Sydney looked up at Weiss in surprise to see him narrowing his eyes at his sister. “I told you Chrissie,” he said, in a tone laced with warning. “We’re friends.”

 

“Uh-huh.” There was such scepticism in the tone that all Sydney could do was look down, blushing. She didn’t look up until Chrissie spoke again. “OK fine… but how about you two just friends let me get a picture?”

 

So they smiled for the camera, Weiss slipping an arm around Sydney’s waist, her stepping close to him, resting her hand on his chest. Chrissie took the picture, shaking her head as she inspected the LCD monitor. “You two really do make a good-looking couple, you know,” she told them mock-mournfully, and Weiss’s response, a growled “Chrissie…” silenced her, had her moving off in the opposite direction.

 

Weiss apologised, and Sydney told him honestly that it was fine, that Chrissie wasn’t the first person to make that assumption that night. Nor was she the last, and eventually, Sydney just stopped correcting people.

 

Especially when Weiss’s hand only ever after moved from her waist to rest on her back.

 

When they found themselves dancing together as the clock approached midnight.

 

When his arm once more slipped around her waist, pulling her close to him as the countdown began.

 

With everyone else hugging and kissing one another as Auld Lang Syne rang out, it seemed only natural that they should do the same. What was a surprise was when Weiss’s lips met hers in far more than just a friendly kiss, when Sydney closed her eyes and kissed him back.

 

When she opened them again, it was like she was seeing him for the first time. Not Weiss, Vaughn’s friend, her colleague. But Weiss, her friend. The man who helped her move into her house, who talked to her about what had happened during her two year absence with only slightly flinching honesty. Weiss, who made her laugh, backed her up, helped her keep her sanity. Weiss, who had dragged her out that night, who, since her return, had been there for her every step of the way.

 

Weiss, who was stuttering apologies until she pulled him close and kissed him again.

 

He stands behind her now, watching her place that photograph on the mantelpiece, slides his arms around her and kisses her cheek. “We do make a good-looking couple,” he tells her, and she just smiles, turns in his arms and kisses him again.

 

In old photographs, all she can see are lies.

 

In this one, she looks at the two of them and their matching smiles, and she sees only truth.

 

It is the only photograph she needs.

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