Author: melia

Title: Takedown

Rating: PG

Summary: A month after her job in Taipei, Sydney's life takes a complete turnaround.

Disclaimer: *disappointed sigh* I don't own anyone. Dang it. Maybe I'll marry J.J. Abrams… Then I'll own a little bit. :D

Author's Note: I wrote the first paragraph a month ago, and then was finally inspired to write the rest over the past three days. Which explains the change in tense and mood. It happens. Anyways. Enjoy the story, and please give me some criticism at the end. Thanks. ~melia

Responsibility. It's a word that most people know. Any CIA agent worth her salt knows all about responsibility. Any CIA handler knows his responsibilities. That's why it's my fault that Vaughn is dead. Barnett keeps telling me that his death wasn't my fault; that if anything it was his for "breaking protocol" the way he did. I guess that she doesn't realize how ineffective it is to tell me that; how little it comforts me. I know that Vaughn wasn't supposed to be in Taipei with me. Destroying Khasinau's lab was my responsibility, not Vaughn's. If I had just been faster, or told him before I went in not to follow me… Vaughn knew his responsibilities as a handler. He's supposed to give me my assignments, not follow me on them. He's supposed to wait for me to get back… He'll never be there, waiting for me, ever again.

Sydney sat up, sweat running down her forehead and back, tangled in her bedsheets, Vaughn's name on her lips. Every night for the past month she'd been having the same nightmare, reliving the night in Taipei when Vaughn had died. She knew by now that it was pointless to try to go back to sleep. She untangled herself from her bedding and padded, barefoot, to the bathroom. She splashed water on her face and dried it with a hand towel. As she wiped the last drops of water off her chin, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror. What she saw startled her. Her face was pale, sallow; and she had bags under her eyes. Her eyes were bloodshot, and now they were filling with tears. Looking away from her reflection, Sydney blinked rapidly to stop her tears from falling, and swallowed hard against the lump that had formed in her throat. She was too late, however, as one hot tear scalded a path down her face and seared her soul. Sydney crumpled into a ball on the floor of the bathroom and stuffed her fist into her mouth to muffle her sobs.

"Syd? Sydney, are you alright?"

Sydney rubbed the crumbs from her eyes and groaned softly. The ground beneath her was hard and cold, and as Sydney sat up, she opened her eyes and realized that she had fallen asleep on the bathroom floor.

"Syd?" Francie's voice was full of worry.

"Yeah, I'm ok." Even as Sydney croaked out her reply, she realized that she was not ok. Her head throbbed and her throat ached, likely from the crying she had done. All of her joints protested as she stood up. Moving as quickly as she could, Sydney splashed her face with water for the second time that morning. She completely ignored the mirror as she scrubbed her face dry with the towel. Opening the door, she saw Francie, whose face conveyed shock.

"Sydney? Are you sure you're alright? You look awful."

"Thanks, Francie." Sydney couldn't believe how cutting her tone was. As Francie's facial expression changed from shock to hurt, Sydney did her best to repair the damage. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean that. I'm so sorry, Francie. You're right, I don't feel well. I think I have a bug of some sort." It amazed Sydney that as crummy as she felt, she could still fabricate a lie as easily as breathing. "I think I'll call in sick."

By now Francie had gotten over her hurt, and had switched over into full-on mothering mode. "It's fine, Syd, don't worry about a thing. I'll stay home and take care of you-."

Sydney cut off her suggestion. "No, no, I'll be ok. I just need to sleep." Sydney smiled weakly at her friend. Finally, something that was true. A complete month of getting only three or four hours of sleep a night was really taking its toll on her. Sydney just hoped that she would be able to doze off, and that the nightmares would stop. Barnett had said that Sydney was suffering from "survivor's guilt", or something like that; that watching Vaughn being swept away by the water from the Circumference had affected her on a psychological level. Sydney snapped out of her rumination as Francie waved a hand in front of her face.

"You really are sick, aren't you?" Sydney nodded mutely. "Ok, well, let's get you into bed. You won't get any better just standing there." Francie wrapped an arm around Syd's waist and helped her back to bed. There, Fran tucked Sydney in and gently squeezed her hand before leaving to get ready for work. Sydney snuggled down under the covers. When she was sick as a child, Sydney had always wanted to be cared for, but with her mother dead and her father always busy, she had never had her wish fulfilled. Now that she was an adult, she realized just how comforting it was to know that someone was watching out for you. In spite of her worry and anxiety over Vaughn, Sydney slipped into peaceful sleep within minutes.

Several hours later, having slept until noon, Sydney emerged from the shower in a bathrobe, toweling off her hair. The hot water pounding down on her back had relieved some of the tension in her shoulders, but none of the guilt in her soul. Syd quickly decided that she didn't really feel like doing much of anything that day, so she dressed in comfy track pants and a sweatshirt, heated up some soup, and popped "Sleepless in Seattle" into the VCR. Meg Ryan's character had just missed Tom Hanks and his son when the phone rang.
"Hello?"

"Joey's Pizza?"

"Sorry, wrong number." Sydney had hung up the phone before she realized what had just happened. No voice on earth sounded quite like that. None but Vaughn's. Sydney ran to her bedroom and changed into clothes that made her look like a woman, as opposed to the clothes of a woman-who-has-no-man-and-no-prospect-of-getting-one. A quick brush of her hair, and she was out the door. The drive to the warehouse had never been longer.

When Sydney arrived at the warehouse, she was surprised to find that Vaughn's car wasn't there. She proceeded cautiously into the warehouse, checking for anything that looked suspicious or out of place. When she didn't see anything odd, she ran over to Vaughn and threw her arms around him. She breathed in his scent- a clean smell, soapy and warm, with undercurrents of toothpaste and aftershave- before stepping back and smiling hugely at him. He grinned back in response, and pulled her back into a hug. Both of the CIA operatives closed their eyes and smiled, content just to be together. Sydney rested her head on Vaughn's shoulder and closed her arms more tightly around him, and Vaughn rested his cheek on her head, also tightening the embrace. After a few minutes of just standing there, Sydney sighed and stepped back.

"Vaughn." Had his name ever sounded so good?

"Sydney." Had her name ever sounded so good? Tears filled Sydney's eyes and one brave little drop rolled over her lower lashes onto her cheek. Vaughn reached up and brushed it away with his thumb. "Don't cry. Everything is fine."

Of course, this made more tears escape. "Vaughn. I thought that you were gone for good. I was so-." Sydney couldn't continue. She simply stepped forward and held Vaughn again.

Vaughn smiled softly, rubbing Sydney's back and smoothing her hair. "Shh, shh, it's ok now. It's alright. I'm fine; you're fine. Everything is fine. It's ok." Sydney continued to weep gently against Vaughn's shoulder, her tears seeping into his suit jacket, cleansing her from the inside out. When she had finished crying, she stepped back and turned around, wiping her face with the back of her hand. She was sure that she looked like a holy terror, but when she turned back around Vaughn thought that she was more beautiful than she had ever looked. He smiled at Syd, and she smiled shakily back at him. They stood in silence for a moment longer before Vaughn explained their meeting.

"I'm so sorry that you had to wait so long for me. I managed to escape from the hallway by a furnace duct in the wall. Once I was out of there, I tried to contact you, but I'd lost my comm. unit somewhere along the way. I was in Taipei for a week before I could find the American Embassy, and then it was a struggle to get them to cooperate. All of my I.D. had gone the way of the comm. Anyways; I got back a week ago, and the CIA ran a battery of tests. Drugs, foreign bodies, viruses. Devlin refused to let me contact you until they were sure that everything was fine." Vaughn held his arms out to the sides. "I'm fine."

Sydney giggled. "Yes, you sure are." Vaughn realized the implications of what he had said, and Sydney was sure that she saw him blushing in spite of the shadows in the warehouse.

"I didn't mean it like that."

"You don't have to make excuses." Sydney couldn't stop smiling. Vaughn was back. He was ok; he was fine. He was alive. He was standing right in front of her, smiling back at her, a look of love in his eyes. Sydney blinked rapidly. Love? Where had that idea come from? Was she projecting her love for him… no, he definitely looked like he loved her. Now he was moving closer to her. Sydney's eyes moved from Vaughn's eyes to his lips and back again. His gaze was similarly moving from her eyes to her lips and back again. Before either of them could protest that they should definitely not take this next step, that it would jeopardize their handler/agent relationship, they were kissing. Sydney acknowledged the softness of Vaughn's lips before she smoothed her hands over his jacket, still damp with her tears, into the hair at the base of his neck. Vaughn emitted a slight groan as he pulled Sydney closer and deepened the kiss.

The kiss only ended when Sydney and Vaughn couldn't go without air for another possible second. The two stood in each other's arms, smiling at each other for what seemed like forever. A discreet cough made them both whirl towards the door of the warehouse. Jack stood silhouetted in the afternoon light.

"Agent Vaughn. Sydney." He nodded at each of them in turn. Surprisingly, his voice held no tone of discouragement or reproach. "I have some news for you. The CIA has received some information… SD-6 has no idea that we know what we do. As a result, today will be their last full day of existence."

Sydney and Vaughn looked at Jack in shock. Could it be true? Could all of their dreams be becoming reality in one day? Sydney began giggling from pure joy, and ran over to her father, hugging him enthusiastically. Jack smiled at her exuberance, hugging her back. Soon, though, he disengaged himself from her grasp. "I assume you two want to know how everything will work?"

"Yes!" came the reply from both adults.

"Devlin has had a team of agents working around the clock looking for a way to dismantle SD-6. They found it half an hour ago. Both of your cell phones have been called, but for some reason, neither of you answered." Jack's tone held a hint of reproach, and both Syd and Vaughn looked at the floor, slightly shamed. Jack allowed himself a small smile before continuing. "Tomorrow, at 1:45 PM, SD-6 will be receiving a major load of armaments and drugs. At 1:46 PM, the CIA will raid every sector of SD-6 America-wide. All the heads of the branches will be arrested and placed in jail to await their trials for terrorism and attempts to overthrow the American governments. Workers and lackeys of these branch heads will be imprisoned until their innocence or guilt can be ascertained. By 2:00 PM tomorrow, SD-6 will no longer exist."

Sydney was ecstatic. In less than 24 hours, she would be free. Free from Arvin Sloane, free from waking up aching with bruises, but most importantly, free to be with whomever she wished. Namely, one Michael Vaughn.

Vaughn reached the same conclusion at the same time that Sydney did. Grinning, he turned towards her. "So, there's a Kings game tomorrow night…"

The takedown of SD-6 went off exactly as planned. In L.A. one CIA agent was shot in the arm, and two members of the SD-6 office were killed, but apart from that, everything went off without a hitch. At 1:58 on a sunny Tuesday, nine years after she had begun her work there, Sydney left of the Credit Dauphine building, never to return. She let the door swing shut behind her as she walked straight into the open arms of the man that she loved.

The End