Challenge:Pairing: Vaughn AU: Secret Agents, Chelsea gets shot; Min: 1,000 words; Max: 10,000 words; One-shot; Ratings: Varies; Time to Write: 24 Hours;

Chapter 1: Jacey21


Vaughn sat at the stainless steel table, looking out over the lake where other early risers had already set out on their boats for the day. He sighed to himself as a steaming bowl of porridge was set in front of him, cinnamon sprinkled over the top. The silvered haired man let a small smile grace his lips, feeling familiar delicate arms wrap around his neck in a loving morning hug.

"You and your pickiness…" Chelsea giggled, kissing his cheek.

"I'm not picky, I simply know what I enjoy eating," he quietly said, smile widening. "What time is it getting to be?"

Chelsea stole a glance at her watch and told him: "Almost 7:15, which means I'll be heading out soon."

Vaughn frowned, letting her slide away and into the seat next to him.

"Wipe that frown away. We have three days to find her, and then we can go home," she reminded him. "Until then, we have to do our job the best that we can. And that means you staying here and watching my back while I'm finding, and then me having your back while you finish."

He nodded and stirred his porridge, thinking how they had gotten to this point.

Not much had gone right for Vaughn in his life, save for Chelsea. He had lost his family on the boat over from Ireland when he was three, and his Aunt and cousin, Julia, had raised him. When his aunt mysteriously passed away six years later, the two took to the street, though 16 hours later they were taken. Since Vaughn had never been formally registered in the United States, he was never reported missing. Julia, having been born in the States, had her face plastered on every paper from Boston to Los Angeles. Her body was never found because there was no body to be found. Having been seven years older than him, she had the power and knowledge to virtually disappear.

Their takers were nice, training them from day one. Julia knew what they were now a part of, and made special arrangements to keep the information from Vaughn. He soon figured it out, however, and accepted his new life, though he resented Julia for not trusting him and allowing them to take him.

He closed his eyes, not feeling hungry anymore as he remembered the day he confronted her in their shared room.

"What do you mean you 'know'?" She asked, setting down her hair brush.

"I know what all this is! I know you tried to keep it from me, and I know why!" He yelled, not caring if he sounded like a brat.

"You do, do you?"

"Yes, I do! You're a secret agent, I'm a secret agent, they're ALL secret agents! You let this happen! You were supposed to take care of me! You let this happen!" the small boy screamed at her. He had planned to go in and be calm, but being the ten year old he was, he didn't quite have control of his emotions.

"This is me taking care of you. Do you think I could've survived on the streets of Detroit by myself, not to mention having to take care of a nine year old!" Julia hadn't meant to, but she too had lost her temper. "Mom hardly made it by when you came around, we were about to lose the house." Her voice had dropped to a dangerous whisper.

Vaughn's eyes widened in shock at her words. "You did it… You killed her!" He ran out of the room, tears streaming down his cheeks.

He had only been ten when he came to that conclusion, and no one had been able to change his mind since. He became a recluse, throwing himself into training and missions, talking to no one, and avoiding his cousin.

A week after the argument, Julia vanished from the agency, and hadn't been heard from since.

Chelsea saw the glazed over look in his eyes and took his hand. She had seen the look many times before, and learned early on not to disturb him.

She stood up and moved to the bathroom, brushing her chocolate hair back into a tight ponytail, then slid on her glasses. Studying herself in the mirror, she smiled. Her loose yellow shirt and blue shorts made her look like a simple jogger, with red sneakers to complete the look.

Today was scouting to figure out the targets schedule, and tomorrow was close study, and the next day… Well, Chelsea didn't like to think about that. That was Vaughn's part, and she dared not interfere, let alone let the deed enter her mind.

Vaughn had taught her to hold her head high with confidence, and it was a part of her look she carried with her every day. She smiled at the thought of their first time meeting during their first mission together. She was in the scouting and information link, he in the assassin link, though no one was supposed to call it that.

From the first mission, he had changed her from the shy, geeky girl to the now radiant beauty that was neglected by puberty, and she had fallen for him. He continued to request her, and know they were official partners, and number one team in the agency.

"Chelsea." Vaughn stated, causing her head to snap out of her memories and towards the kitchen.

She walked back into the kitchen, confused as to what was going on. "What's up, I've gotta go soon-"

He words were caught in her throat upon seeing a tiny, unmoving dot on the center of Vaughn's forehead.

"They know we are here."

Calmly, through months and years of training, Chelsea sat down at the table in her pervious spot as if nothing was wrong. She glanced out the window opposite of Vaughn, noticing the same dot reflected through the double paned glass.

"The kinglet should be out today, or maybe the hummingbirds," she commented, glancing back over the bay and not daring to look at him.

"Hummingbirds are fast but not so clever to detect worms, rather they go for the sweeter things."

The kinglet was a pale yellow bird, which Vaughn had assigned for his cousin, as her hair once put the sun to shame, but no longer held its luster for him. Hummingbirds were the rival agency, otherwise known to the rest of the world as the government.

He knew it wasn't the others, but he didn't confirm the sniper was their target either.

Chelsea took her eyes off the window and transferred them to the silver haired man adjacent to her. Though she started to say his name, her words were cut off by the sound of shattering glass and a bullet lodging into her appendix. The force sent her out of her chair and half on to Vaughn, and half on to the floor. Within seconds her shirt was turning orange, then a dark red.

Vaughn grabbed at her, not letting his reflexes slow. He set her gently on the floor, cradling her upper body, careful to avoid the shards of glass that had sprayed the whole room.

A woman with a black pixie cut and light blue dress waltzed through the door as though it were part of her daily routine, her stilettos carelessly picking their way through crunching debris.

"Oh look at that, partner's bleeding out… Better take her to the hospital soon, that appendix isn't going to stitch itself," the woman mocked.

Vaughn would know that voice anywhere, no matter how much time had passed, and how much they both had changed.

"What the hell, you bitch! You have to take her away from me, too?" He hissed, holding on to his lover tightly.

Chelsea struggled to get a breath, her head pulsating and a strange pumping in her lower abdomen, like her heart was hooked up to a rock concert amp. She reached for something, anything, but found nothing. Vaughn took her hand and let her squeeze as tight as she wanted.

"Calm down," Julia said, rolling her eyes. "It's not going to kill her, simply hurt like hell. I'm here to deliver a message: Stop looking for me, because you'll never find me, and you'll never get your revenge. There is none to be had, and you're only endangering everyone, like Peppy here."

Vaughn growled and reached for the gun under the table, pulling it out and aiming in one swift motion.

Julia wagged a finger at him and then pointed down at the wounded girl in his arms, where a red dot had planted itself on where her heart was. "I go down, so does she." A pause. "I only ever wanted what was best for you, V."

And just like that, she was gone. Vaughn, remembering enough about her to know that she wouldn't come back, dragged Chelsea into the bathroom. He propped her head up with a rolled towel, and pulled out the operation kit from under the sink.

"Breathe, baby, slowly," he said, gaining back his composure. He began to remover the bullet, understanding a hospital wasn't an option where there would be thousands upon thousands of questions. "That's it, Chels, you're going to be okay. I'm here, and you're going to live."