Ship: S/V of course!!!!
Disclaimer: All characters belong to good o'l J.J Abrams, but the plot and Angela Theriault/Angela Vaughn is MINE!!
Emotional Content: High. I am a total drama queen. High Vaughn and Sydney angst due to the whole post Lauren issue, but Vaughn will also experience the angst of learning the sister he thought was dead is in fact....alive
A/N: Okay, so KUDOS to J.J for actually giving Agent Vaughn more issues than just wrinkling his forehead and worrying about Sydney, and instead torture us S/V shippers for weeks by making Lauren Reed his "snookums." (But that led to some intense scenes of how Vaughn dealt with the betrayal which Mr. Vartan executed marvelously!!)
But truth is...the only thing he left us with at the end of season 3 was Jack betraying Sydney (AGAIN!), Lauren dropping into a pit after being shot by her hubby, and the blessed moment of S/V PDA!
But then...where did the handsome agent with the green eyes, lopsided grin and wrinkled forehead go to? I think he deserves a story line, don't you?
So here you go then...
Part I"Prologue"
JTF CIA HQ, Los Angeles CAMost of the JTF was empty, most of the agents had done the smart thing and gone home to get some rest so they could start tackling the new dangers and defend the nation they loved again tomorrow.
Of course there were the few agents who were returning from Operations overseas and others who just were forced to stay because of their scheduled graveyard shift.
But one agent's desk was still on and everyone who passed by didn't say a word to him, in fact it was like he didn't exist. But he did exist, and they all knew what he had gone through, what kind of life this handsome agent had led for the last two years.
Agent Michael Vaughn, returned only hours before from his "Operation," in the middle east, could barely keep his eyes open as he struggled to finish typing his report. Director Dixon had requested he turn it in before he left for the night.
Considering the fact that he was fresh from learning about his now dead wife's betrayal, getting himself almost killed when he'd attempted to assassinate her the first time, and then going on a crazy goose chase to keep Sydney's life from being compromised while severely injured, he knew that he should have objected.
Had circumstances been different, he would have.
He closed his eyes for a moment to remember the last thing that had happened that last fatal moment where he'd sealed his wife's fate as well as his and Sydney's.
Lauren had called out some kind of code while she fell into the pit, claiming that it was important information for Sydney.
More importantly, he remembered what happened right after they'd shared their first "back together," embrace on that deserted camp.
(Flashback)
"Syd, come on, she's dead. She's out of our lives," Michael urged Sydney as he let her out of his embrace to bend down and put a hand to his bandage to curb the pain. "And I think I need to get back and see a doctor."
Sydney knelt down and pushed Michael's hand away. Michael obliged and let her open up his shirt. She gently touched the bandage and watched Michael wince.
"You'll be fine, but you should get back to L.A. You need to make sure you clarify with Dixon that you weren't really taking Weiss hostage, not to mention you have a hell of a report to write and an explanation for breaking what...50 rules of conduct," she chuckled as she helped Michael to his feet.
"But, everything I did...down to getting Lauren, was worth it. It'll take some time but I have you back in my life now. I can get through anything," Michael had told her as he laid another kiss on her mouth. Then he headed toward the chopper that was currently landing, only to turn around and not see Sydney standing there.
"Syd?" Michael had called out as loudly as he could while covering his face with his jacket. "SYDNEY!"
Vaughn was about to go ballistic but he calmed down long enough to answer his cell phone as it trilled in the pocket of his cargo pants. "Syd?"
"Hey Vaughn, sorry but...I'm not going to be going back with you tonight."
"WHAT?! Syd, where are you?"
"Don't worry, I have transportation set up. If Dixon asks where I am, tell him there's something personal I had to take care of."
"Syd, you're insane. Whatever it is, it can wait till we get back to L.A!" Michael shouted as he helped the extraction team load up whatever they could find on the site.
"No, Michael...you don't understand. I need to do this."
Michael didn't want to listen to this even though he knew that Sydney could take care of herself. Then it hit him. "Wait, Sydney...please tell me you're not going after that deposit box number. Come on Syd, Lauren lied to me for over two years, how in the world can you trust what she says?"
"I...I just have an instinct. I'll see you later, okay. I promise that I will call when I'm on my way back and I'll make you whatever you want for dinner my first night back in L.A, okay?"
Before Vaughn could answer Sydney had turned the phone off and that had been the last he'd heard from her.
(end of flashback)
Now he was in what Weiss called "Sydney-withdrawl" and the rest of the office knew it too. That was the reason they didn't tell him he should go home and take a nap. They knew when Sydney Bristow was not in the same country as he was that he couldn't sleep, he couldn't think, he was lucky if he could act sane.
Tonight though, there was another reason. He had no home. He had nowhere to go except the house that would only remind him of how gullible he'd been and the fake life he'd gotten himself into.
Vaughn got back to business and completed the last thought in his head.
"Former NSC agent, Lauren Reed was killed in self defense by myself. When I got to the camp, there was a disturbance there, it seems the woman who claimed to be Irina Derevko's sister was in charge of that Operation. I came upon Agent Sydney Bristow being brutally attacked by the Covenant informant Reed and I shot her several times. There is no way she could have survived."
Abruptly, he stopped typing then glanced at the blue screen of his monitor to check his report strictly for grammatical errors. He was still too emotionally distraught, his anger was still too real. And it was definitely too early to recap the events of the last two years and not want to make him strangle himself for being so stupid.
Somewhat satisfied, he hit the print button and waited for the file to come out. He then stuffed it into a professional-looking black folder, sent an e-mail version to Director Dixon's mail-box before he logged off the network.
He gathered up his trench coat and was picking up his briefcase when he felt a friendly tap on the shoulder. Vaughn huffed and turned around, hoping the party wouldn't be offended by his manners or short patience.
Standing there was Marshall Flinkman and Agent Eric Weiss.
"Guys, hey," Michael greeted, forcing a grin.
"Dixon told us you were back, thought we should come say hello," Weiss began and then shook Michael's hand. "Welcome back, and hey...no hard feelings with putting a gun to my temple."
Michael gave a good-natured grin. "Thanks, so...was that it? Cause I was just about to...'
"Actually Mike...I mean, Agent Vaughn..." Marshall began in his unintelligible banter. "Mr. Weiss and I were thinking that, you have been through a lot and I know that you have to learn to compartmentalize your emotions like you had to do with Sydney because you were married...which of course you're not now because you shot her yourself and"
"Marshall, I'm sorry but...does this have a point?"
Marshall brought out a bottle of Jack Daniels. "Mr. Vaughn, we would like it if you would join me and Mr. Weiss for a couple of shots of this so we can drink your worries away."
Michael smiled apologetically. He needed a drink, now more than anything but. "Sorry guys...but I really don't think that..."
"Mike, if you're worried about drinking because you just had major surgery, don't worry. Medical services say that if you can high-tail out of here and make it back in one piece, you're fine," Weiss chimed in, not willing to take no for an answer. "Plus we've got good reasons to drink, I know you and Sydney are back together now and we can FINALLY stop having to deal with this awkward love triangle we had going there for a while."
"Eric, I'm..."
"No objections, Mike. We know you have things you need to tend to now that you're divorced and...widowed, and after a night of partying, you are more than welcome to deal with whatever divorcees deal with."
Michael knew Eric meant well but tonight he was not feeling it. He felt betrayed, guilty, hurt, stupid. He wanted to punch himself in the stomach till he threw up. "Eric...I really really need to spend tonight alone. I just got back...I have unpacking to do...I have...things I have to take care of."
"Michael Vaughn, forgive my bluntness but you were betrayed by a member of the opposite sex and normal Americans, my friend, would consider this an opportune time to hang with the guys and let them bad mouth the traitor along with you," Eric insisted. "Come on, Flinkman even convinced Carrie to stay up with the baby tonight so we can do this."
Eric shot Marshall an expectant glance but he was smart and decided against saying anything. He had noticed Vaughn's shoulders tense up and his knuckles turn white.
The next second Vaughn raised his steely gaze and pinned Weiss against the wall with energy he didn't think he had. Weiss looked into Vaughn's eyes and looked very uncomfortable. There was a darkness there, an anger that he knew he'd never felt.
"Eric, don't take this the wrong way, okay but...you don't understand. You...can't...understand! My wife never loved me. Our marriage was a lie yet somehow I had bought into it and wasted not only two years of my life, but of Sydney's!" Vaughn said in a gruff voice. "You haven't even had a girlfriend in the last three years!"
After Vaughn said that, he knew that he shouldn't have. Eric looked down, but the shades of his face was changing color. "Vaughn, man that's harsh. I know you have some damn issues but I didn't cause them. I let you point a gun to my head so you can save your girlfriend and this is how you repay me?"
"Damn it Weiss I never said..."
Too late. Before Vaughn could finish his sentence, Eric pulled Vaughn's arms down from his shoulders, then he shoved his fellow agent hard against his desk, sending items spilling all over the floor. Marshall just stood and watched for a second before he bent down to pick up a scattered pile of papers off the floor.
"Marshall, don't help him," Weiss ordered the innocent tech guy when he saw Marshall offer a hand to Michael to help him get back to his feet. "He knows he deserved it."
"But..." Marshall stammered, not sure what to do. His logical mind was telling him that the first thing he needed to do was get the stuff off the floor before someone tripped on it.
"No, Marshall...Eric is right. I did deserve it," Michael stammered as he held onto his desk and eventually regained his balance. He then gave his offended friend an apologetic glance, all the darkness now gone from his green irises. "I told you not to take it that way. It's not you...or you," he explained, looking at Marshall. "This just isn't something I can drink away, in fact, I think drinking is going to make this worse. I mean, look at what I just did? This is not me, I'm just so pissed off right now and...I'm not sure what I'd do if I get drunk."
There were no objections from the peanut gallery this time.
"Listen...I'm going to go hand this in and then I'm going to try and get some sleep."
Eric didn't say anything for a moment but then held his hand out to Michael and smiled. "I'll give it to Dixon," he offered and took the folder out of his hand. "You go and get some shut eye. I've got another hour to crash anyway, we're still waiting to hear from Sydney."
"Thanks Weiss," Vaughn said, looking grateful and held his hand out to shake. Weiss gave his hand a nice hard squeeze. "I'll see you two tomorrow."
"You got it," Eric called after him. "And don't worry Vaughn, if you start getting out of control and big headed, I'll knock you down a few notches."
Michael only nodded to him and Marshall then headed for the exit.
And Eric just watched him go with a heavy heart.
Marshall who's been quiet finally spoke up. "Mr. Weiss?"
"Yes Marshall."
"You know Mr. Vaughn more better than anyone. Do you think he's going to be okay tonight? By himself, I mean."
Eric shot Marshall a "his life has been a lie for two years, he just killed the woman he thought he loved, what do you think?" glare. But then he straightened his suit jacket, regained his professional demeanor as he said, "I should go turn this in."
11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111
Vaughn's vehicle, somewhere down in LA
The ride home felt a lot longer than usual for Michael Vaughn but he was sure that the reason for that was because he wished he was heading anywhere but his house.
He could feel his breathing get heavier as he grew closer and closer to the familiar roads that led to his neighborhood, the roads that led to his and Lauren's "happy-home." By the time he drove up into the quiet driveway, his breathing was so constricted he tore off his tie.
He stared at the building before him and sighed. Where was he? He certainly wasn't home. Home was somewhere you wanted to be, where you felt most comfortable in. He was just having a problem sitting in the driveway!
He laid back against his leather seat and huffed. Did he have to do this? Was he really going to sleep here?
His key was still in the ignition and for a second he debated on whether he should go and find a motel or something. He had a packed suitcase in his trunk. But he found himself yawning and it was clear his vision and judgment wasn't to be trusted.
He felt incredibly stupid but he wasn't about to risk his life. He pulled the key out and turned his car off before he forced himself to get out of the car. It was even harder, he found, to step up to the front door. But he managed by constantly telling himself that Lauren was the one who screwed up, that he'd been just a nice guy and had tried to be an honorable husband.
Lauren, God, even if he's shot her, even if he knew she was dead, he wished that he could still strangle her. Finally he understood what had made Jack so bitter, what he saw every time he saw Irina.
Only he wouldn't have that problem because his traitor wife was dead.
He paused only long enough to turn the lock then trudged up the stairs with his suitcase. He paused again, right before the door to the master bedroom.
He was not ready for this. He didn't think he would ever be ready for this.
"Oh get a grip, Vaughn,"he scolded himself as he pushed the door open. He wasn't going to let Lauren overpower him now that she was gone. He'd purchased the house anyway. And how, he thought as he pulled a pair of sweats from his suitcase and changed into them, how was he supposed to move forward with Sydney if he couldn't start putting the past behind him?
Oh no, he was going to get through this. It was the only way he would be able to do Sydney justice. Even when he'd been married, he'd told Sydney that some things changed and some things hadn't. Now he had to prove himself by showing her that the divorce had been finalized. In fact, his plan for tomorrow was going to do his best to rid himself of everything that reminded him of that conniving slut, so that if when Sydney returned, she was willing to start spending the night, there would be no awkwardness.
They had to catch up on two years of missed time, heaven knew they didn't need any more of this separation crap.
He spent about two minutes in the bathroom, just long enough to pop some aspirin and soothe his face with warm water. He wanted to get out of there before he smelled Lauren's flowery body lotion or her 100 cream face wash. If he did pick up on anything of the sort, he was afraid he'd start shoving the crap on the floor and start destroying anything that she'd picked out (he certainly hadn't chosen the baby blue theme for their bathroom)
The only reason he hadn't torn the place apart was because he had no energy, and he hadn't bothered to turn on the lights so it wasn't like he could see any of their wedding pictures or the his and her mugs they'd received on their wedding day.
He took one look at their bed and decided there was no way he was going to sleep there. The bed looked unmade, just the way he'd left it the last time they'd gotten out of the bed together.
He was going to have to do some serious laundry before he ever touched those sheets again.
For now he would have to settle for the couch. He grabbed his pillow and a quilt blanket before he padded down the stairs.
A funny thought struck him. Didn't husbands sleep on the couch when they screwed up and their wives kicked them out of their bedroom?
And wasn't that exactly where he was heading?
But another thought struck him as he punched his pillow and settle down onto the cushions of his favorite piece of furniture. He couldn't relate because there'd been no marriage. And tomorrow, he'd make sure that everyone who known about the faux union would swear to him that they'd never mention it again because he would make it look as though it had never happened.
Starting with this, he thought as he yanked the golden band from his left wedding ring finger then this let it drop onto the floor. Instantly he felt a weight was lifted off his shoulders, but at the same time he felt an awkward emptiness. In the last two years, he'd only taken it off to take a shower or to occasionally wash the dishes.
But the only thought he would allow himself to be troubled by as he closed his eyes was not having Sydney by his side. He fit the quilt snuggly around his trembling body and drifted off to what he hoped would be a peaceful slumber, praying God would give him a break and let him be happy for a while.
The guy upstairs had to know Michael C. Vaughn didn't need any more life-altering changes right now.
So what did you think? No sister yet? Well, I had to write an explanation to where they left us off. But lots of Vaughn angst, hee hee. Aren't you loving it?
Please let me know what you think okay? I'm already working on the next chapter so it shouldn't be too long.
Stay tuned for the next chapter: Part I: A Message from Lauren
Kris (Total Vaughn Lover)