Alias - Stalking the Truth
by the only one -|therealonlyone@yahoo.com|-
(key:) = - scene change, [xy:] - voiceover by xy, /*/*\*\ - flashback, \*\*/*/ - end flashback
=====
Sydney Bristow got out of her car. She saw her handler, Michael Vaughn, waiting for her on a park bench. Walking towards him, she wondered why her father warned them to meet at the park instead of the Taco Bell they were supposed to meet at. A lot of this had been going on; just the past week Muligany had sent them to a—
"Sydney!" She stopped in place, standing in the middle of the parking lot, less than one-hundred feet from her car.
She jolted from her trance to see Dixon and his daughter. Vaughn had turned in his seat as well, and must have recognized the man as Sydney's partner in SD-6 for he had turned back around by the time Sydney ended her conversation with Dixon and was on her way towards the bench again, coming around his right.
She sat next to Vaughn stiffly, staring into the sunset coming across the water. "You noticed Dixon."
"Yeah; was that planned?"
"No." She relaxed; regular Vaughn, to ask questions like that. She put her purse next to her.
"Alright. I'm going to put my arm up; it's twitching. So, what's our status?"
His hand brushed against her shoulder and settled just past her bare arm; she was wearing a tank top, being in Los Angeles and all. He, on the other hand, was wearing suit. She hardly saw him in anything but. "Headquarters is paranoid for once. Sloane actually brought my father in at the same time as me to, quote, save time."
"It's nice to see that SD-6 is worried. Back at the CIA, they're probably proud of you."
"You know, that's what I'd like to know. How do they get my information before I tell you? Except for dad, no one else is a double. Luckily, Sloane trusts my father too much to let go of me."
"He's afraid."
"Partly. He also knows that I'm one of the most successful agents at SD-6 and he doesn't want to lose me. After Dixon reported my stature when he blew up the plant, Sloane was a little suspicious. I should have been overjoyed that Dixon used his head and brought a secondary detonator. Instead, I was frozen in place. He almost got out of me that I was the one who diffused—"
Vaughn was squeezing her shoulder—not that she had anything against it, but it was a different kind of squeeze. It wasn't a 'good job' agent-handler squeeze. It was too intimate, too comfortable. She liked it too much.
"Excuse me? Is there a reason you're doing this?"
"Just playing the part. We're a guy and his girlfriend, meeting for the first time in a few weeks due to a business trip to Sao Paulo. I know you got the message."
/*/*\*\
Badenweiler, Germany; the Schiller plant—
"You know Vaughn? He likes you."
She looked up, a tiny smile playing at her lips. "Yeah?"
"He respects you." A moment of silence.
"Well, I've got a bomb to diffuse."
\*\*/*/
"That's what I don't get." Vaughn suddenly bent down and kissed her neck. The sucking at her neck rushed something through her as she tucked her hair behind her right ear, comfortable yet uncomfortable. This wasn't something she was supposed to be doing. But it felt—
"What?" Vaughn's voice against her bare skin caused another ripple to go through her system.
"Why the hell is the CIA sending you and me to these crazy-ass places to give reports? What's wrong with the old casual meeting at the gas station?"
"I don't know. I guess it's because there's a lot more people here to cover up any microphones." He spoke just below her ear, in a deathly low whisper. Almost to prove his point, an unmistakably Italian family suddenly walked past, talking loudly.
"You are supposed to be my superior. You have to know."
"Not anymore. They promoted you; now we're equals."
"They what? Why wasn't I informed?"
"That's how it works at the CIA. You find out for yourself by an agent, not a supervisor." There were a few seconds of a silence.
"Oh." What's my position called? she wondered. And how can you promote a double agent?
"What?" He looked up a little, lips off her neck. She turned her head swiftly, her chin hitting his forehead hard. Vaughn winced, his head going back up from under her hair.
"Oh my god, are you alright?" She put her hand on his temple, a light pink showing already.
"Yes. Is your chin?" Vaughn asked with a straight face.
She laughed a little, her hand still on his forehead. "It's fine."
"That's good." His forehead wrinkled for a second. They sat like that for another moment. Then he leaned in and kissed her on the lips.
Sydney wanted to pull out, to turn her head ever so slightly so his kiss landed on her cheek—but she couldn't.
=====
"She's at the park? What's she doing there?"
"I don't know, I just tell you these things."
"You're sure it was her? License plate—"
"Relax, it's her. Who is she?"
"A friend of a friend's. Alright, thanks James."
"Anytime, Will."
Will Tippin hung up his phone and sighed. "What is she doing at the park?" He stood up and called for his assistant, a previous intern. She had finished college a few months earlier and was now working here. "Rebecca, I'm leaving."
She walked up to his chair. "No overtime tonight? Must be a record. Following that Kate Jones person?"
"Er, no—Sydney."
"You haven't asked her out yet?" She placed some papers on his desk.
"I wasn't planning on it."
"Are you stalking her?"
"No! Why do I tell you these things?"
"Because you have no one else to talk to. Besides, you haven't called her recently."
"Who?"
"Sydney!"
"Oh, right."
"Okay, I'm confusing you. Go ahead and stalk her. I'll forward your calls to your cell phone."
"Thank you. That's all I needed."
Grabbing his cell phone from atop his desk, he stood up and finally headed out.
Will arrived at the park in just a few minutes. He had just passed rush hour traffic; of course, it was rush hour all day long in LA. Parking his sedan in the first row of parking spaces from the path, he opened his window and turned off the ignition. He pulled a newspaper from the passenger seat and pretended to read as he looked out the driver's side window and the front windshield.
Sydney was talking to a black man and his daughter a bit away from her car. Someone from the bank, he concluded. He noticed someone, a guy in a suit sitting on a park bench, watching their exchange and turning back to the sunset after a moment.
The conversation ended. Sydney walked forwards—and sat next to the guy who had been watching her and her colleague. They spoke for a while, and his arm went around her.
Who was this? Why hadn't Will seen him before? If it was Sydney's boyfriend, he would have been at the Halloween party. He could have talked to him instead of snacking on candy corn, but he hadn't been there. Nah, it was probably her long lost brother. He couldn't help but wonder what kind of relationship with your brother caused him to start kissing your neck.
It wasn't her brother.
They stayed like that for a bit more, when Sydney suddenly jerked her head a bit and the man sat up. Her hand went up to his forehead and he kissed her.
/*/*\*\
Los Angelos, California; Sydney Bristow's living room—
"You go on a lot of trips."
"It's the bank. I love to see other countries, so it's okay."
"The bank. I see. ...Sydney, why do you think the kiss was so weird?" He toyed with the nametag on her suitcase.
"Weird? In what way?" She took the suitcase away and sat on the couch next to him.
"I think it was because you don't usually kiss someone you're that close to."
"Yeah."
He turned his head and kissed her.
"I have to meet my father for dinner."
"I am so sorry; god, I'm so stupid."
"No, it's okay."
\*\*/*/
Will started up his car. The noise of it surprised Sydney and the man—they separated. He shifted the car into reverse and drove home.
=====
CIA headquarters in LA; Agents Muligany and Vaughn, along with Sydney and her father, are in a meeting. They are discussing what happened just before the detonation of Schiller's plant.
[Sydney: I figured out why the CIA is sending me and Vaughn out to meet a lot more than we did before—almost once a week, unlike the after-mission chat we used to have. Unless Vaughn is a double agent and I don't know it, they're either trying to check and see if my information is correct or they're trying to get us together. I mean, would it be a reason for us to meet just so I could find out that I was promoted? All I could have done was hang out here for a while and someone would come up and congratulate me. And Taco Bell would have been just as good as a park bench. At least there I could have gotten a Chalupa.]
a/n: after editing part this chap on 11-20-02, i laughed when i read the syd/spymom hair tuck i had originally. good eye for details, huh?
by the only one -|therealonlyone@yahoo.com|-
(key:) = - scene change, [xy:] - voiceover by xy, /*/*\*\ - flashback, \*\*/*/ - end flashback
=====
Sydney Bristow got out of her car. She saw her handler, Michael Vaughn, waiting for her on a park bench. Walking towards him, she wondered why her father warned them to meet at the park instead of the Taco Bell they were supposed to meet at. A lot of this had been going on; just the past week Muligany had sent them to a—
"Sydney!" She stopped in place, standing in the middle of the parking lot, less than one-hundred feet from her car.
She jolted from her trance to see Dixon and his daughter. Vaughn had turned in his seat as well, and must have recognized the man as Sydney's partner in SD-6 for he had turned back around by the time Sydney ended her conversation with Dixon and was on her way towards the bench again, coming around his right.
She sat next to Vaughn stiffly, staring into the sunset coming across the water. "You noticed Dixon."
"Yeah; was that planned?"
"No." She relaxed; regular Vaughn, to ask questions like that. She put her purse next to her.
"Alright. I'm going to put my arm up; it's twitching. So, what's our status?"
His hand brushed against her shoulder and settled just past her bare arm; she was wearing a tank top, being in Los Angeles and all. He, on the other hand, was wearing suit. She hardly saw him in anything but. "Headquarters is paranoid for once. Sloane actually brought my father in at the same time as me to, quote, save time."
"It's nice to see that SD-6 is worried. Back at the CIA, they're probably proud of you."
"You know, that's what I'd like to know. How do they get my information before I tell you? Except for dad, no one else is a double. Luckily, Sloane trusts my father too much to let go of me."
"He's afraid."
"Partly. He also knows that I'm one of the most successful agents at SD-6 and he doesn't want to lose me. After Dixon reported my stature when he blew up the plant, Sloane was a little suspicious. I should have been overjoyed that Dixon used his head and brought a secondary detonator. Instead, I was frozen in place. He almost got out of me that I was the one who diffused—"
Vaughn was squeezing her shoulder—not that she had anything against it, but it was a different kind of squeeze. It wasn't a 'good job' agent-handler squeeze. It was too intimate, too comfortable. She liked it too much.
"Excuse me? Is there a reason you're doing this?"
"Just playing the part. We're a guy and his girlfriend, meeting for the first time in a few weeks due to a business trip to Sao Paulo. I know you got the message."
/*/*\*\
Badenweiler, Germany; the Schiller plant—
"You know Vaughn? He likes you."
She looked up, a tiny smile playing at her lips. "Yeah?"
"He respects you." A moment of silence.
"Well, I've got a bomb to diffuse."
\*\*/*/
"That's what I don't get." Vaughn suddenly bent down and kissed her neck. The sucking at her neck rushed something through her as she tucked her hair behind her right ear, comfortable yet uncomfortable. This wasn't something she was supposed to be doing. But it felt—
"What?" Vaughn's voice against her bare skin caused another ripple to go through her system.
"Why the hell is the CIA sending you and me to these crazy-ass places to give reports? What's wrong with the old casual meeting at the gas station?"
"I don't know. I guess it's because there's a lot more people here to cover up any microphones." He spoke just below her ear, in a deathly low whisper. Almost to prove his point, an unmistakably Italian family suddenly walked past, talking loudly.
"You are supposed to be my superior. You have to know."
"Not anymore. They promoted you; now we're equals."
"They what? Why wasn't I informed?"
"That's how it works at the CIA. You find out for yourself by an agent, not a supervisor." There were a few seconds of a silence.
"Oh." What's my position called? she wondered. And how can you promote a double agent?
"What?" He looked up a little, lips off her neck. She turned her head swiftly, her chin hitting his forehead hard. Vaughn winced, his head going back up from under her hair.
"Oh my god, are you alright?" She put her hand on his temple, a light pink showing already.
"Yes. Is your chin?" Vaughn asked with a straight face.
She laughed a little, her hand still on his forehead. "It's fine."
"That's good." His forehead wrinkled for a second. They sat like that for another moment. Then he leaned in and kissed her on the lips.
Sydney wanted to pull out, to turn her head ever so slightly so his kiss landed on her cheek—but she couldn't.
=====
"She's at the park? What's she doing there?"
"I don't know, I just tell you these things."
"You're sure it was her? License plate—"
"Relax, it's her. Who is she?"
"A friend of a friend's. Alright, thanks James."
"Anytime, Will."
Will Tippin hung up his phone and sighed. "What is she doing at the park?" He stood up and called for his assistant, a previous intern. She had finished college a few months earlier and was now working here. "Rebecca, I'm leaving."
She walked up to his chair. "No overtime tonight? Must be a record. Following that Kate Jones person?"
"Er, no—Sydney."
"You haven't asked her out yet?" She placed some papers on his desk.
"I wasn't planning on it."
"Are you stalking her?"
"No! Why do I tell you these things?"
"Because you have no one else to talk to. Besides, you haven't called her recently."
"Who?"
"Sydney!"
"Oh, right."
"Okay, I'm confusing you. Go ahead and stalk her. I'll forward your calls to your cell phone."
"Thank you. That's all I needed."
Grabbing his cell phone from atop his desk, he stood up and finally headed out.
Will arrived at the park in just a few minutes. He had just passed rush hour traffic; of course, it was rush hour all day long in LA. Parking his sedan in the first row of parking spaces from the path, he opened his window and turned off the ignition. He pulled a newspaper from the passenger seat and pretended to read as he looked out the driver's side window and the front windshield.
Sydney was talking to a black man and his daughter a bit away from her car. Someone from the bank, he concluded. He noticed someone, a guy in a suit sitting on a park bench, watching their exchange and turning back to the sunset after a moment.
The conversation ended. Sydney walked forwards—and sat next to the guy who had been watching her and her colleague. They spoke for a while, and his arm went around her.
Who was this? Why hadn't Will seen him before? If it was Sydney's boyfriend, he would have been at the Halloween party. He could have talked to him instead of snacking on candy corn, but he hadn't been there. Nah, it was probably her long lost brother. He couldn't help but wonder what kind of relationship with your brother caused him to start kissing your neck.
It wasn't her brother.
They stayed like that for a bit more, when Sydney suddenly jerked her head a bit and the man sat up. Her hand went up to his forehead and he kissed her.
/*/*\*\
Los Angelos, California; Sydney Bristow's living room—
"You go on a lot of trips."
"It's the bank. I love to see other countries, so it's okay."
"The bank. I see. ...Sydney, why do you think the kiss was so weird?" He toyed with the nametag on her suitcase.
"Weird? In what way?" She took the suitcase away and sat on the couch next to him.
"I think it was because you don't usually kiss someone you're that close to."
"Yeah."
He turned his head and kissed her.
"I have to meet my father for dinner."
"I am so sorry; god, I'm so stupid."
"No, it's okay."
\*\*/*/
Will started up his car. The noise of it surprised Sydney and the man—they separated. He shifted the car into reverse and drove home.
=====
CIA headquarters in LA; Agents Muligany and Vaughn, along with Sydney and her father, are in a meeting. They are discussing what happened just before the detonation of Schiller's plant.
[Sydney: I figured out why the CIA is sending me and Vaughn out to meet a lot more than we did before—almost once a week, unlike the after-mission chat we used to have. Unless Vaughn is a double agent and I don't know it, they're either trying to check and see if my information is correct or they're trying to get us together. I mean, would it be a reason for us to meet just so I could find out that I was promoted? All I could have done was hang out here for a while and someone would come up and congratulate me. And Taco Bell would have been just as good as a park bench. At least there I could have gotten a Chalupa.]
a/n: after editing part this chap on 11-20-02, i laughed when i read the syd/spymom hair tuck i had originally. good eye for details, huh?