Disclaimer: I don't own Alias, or any of the characters; although I SURE AS HELL wish Jack and Dixon were mine. They belong to JJ Abrams and co. Please don't sue; I'm in college.

Rating: PG-13 for now- just for language so far. I'll keep you posted.

Pairing: Syd/Vaughn- eventually. Not really a mushy romance, although it'll have it's sweet moments for you shippers- I always have respect for you guys.



Los Angeles

"Woo.mmmbbbop baby, yeah."

Sydney Bristow opened her eyes halfway, squinting at the early morning sun, which was viciously pounding down through her bedroom window.

"What the." she muttered, wondering why her radio was playing. Then she remembered- she'd forgotten to turn it off the night before. With a barely perceptible growl she rolled out of bed, groaning softly as her feet hit the floor.

"Yeah, baby.mmmbop."

With one smooth, fluid motion, Sydney silenced the alarm-clock radio on her bedside table with a vicious slap. Definitely not a good way to wake up. What kid of sadist would even play Hanson at SEVEN in the MORNING- on a Saturday, for that matter? She stood up and stretched, wincing as she felt her back constricting. A routine training session inside SD-6 had left her nearly crippled the night before, and now she'd felt as if she'd been run over by a herd of angry zebras. On top of that, she had some serious cramps. Sydney stumbled to the door, eyes still half closed. Usually she was quite a morning person- a trait that never ceased to amaze her best friend, Francie-but now she felt like crap.

"Need. Coffee," Sydney muttered, stumbling on the slick surface of her kitchen floor. After taking the huge can of Folgers from the cabinet, she stared at the shelf where she normally kept the coffeepot. It had never looked so high to her before.

"Damn."

The phone rang suddenly, its loud ringing grating on her already stressed nerves. Startled, she dropped the can of coffee, watching with the morbid fascination that only a tired person can manifest as the can hit the floor, bursting and spilling its contents.

"Shoot!" Sydney grabbed the phone, taking it down with her as she knelt in the middle of the floor, trying to salvage some of the coffee. "Hello?"

"Syd? Thank God." It was Dixon.

"Hey." Sydney gave up on trying to save the stuff and plunked down in the mess, trying to get comfortable. "What's up?"

"Are you even awake?" Dixon could barely hear her.

"Sure, I'm awake," Sydney said listlessly, scooping up the coffee grounds with her hands, allowing them to slip through her fingers. "Dixon, have you ever chewed raw coffee grounds before?" She popped a pinch into her mouth.

"Um, no. But, Syd-"

"Good. They're disgusting." She hoisted herself up in order to use the sink to rinse out her mouth.

"Well...okay. Anyway, I just called to tell you that Sloane called an emergency meeting for this morning. It's in thirty minutes. Mandatory."

Sydney was instantly awake. "What? Why didn't he call me?"

"He tried. You weren't picking up your phone. I've been trying to reach you for the past hour."

"I overslept. Some normal people do that on Saturdays, you know."

"Well, get yourself over here- you know how he is about lateness." With that comment, Dixon hung up.

Sydney sighed. Cursing under her breath, she left the mess on the floor and rushed into her bathroom to take possibly the shortest shower on record. After considering the strict business dress code of SD-6 for about a nanosecond, she pulled on the first outfit she saw- a black sweater and a pair of black drawstring pants. If Sloane wanted her dressed properly, he wouldn't call stupid meetings at the crack of dawn. Jamming her feet into a pair of black canvas slip-ons, she grabbed her keys and headed for the door.

***********

Will Tippen and Francie Calfo stood outside Sydney's door. Will stepped away from the knocker. "She's not home." Francie looked confused. "She said she'd meet us here so we could all go to breakfast- where is she? Its unusual for her to stand us up- unless, of course..."

Francie was interrupted by Will's ringing phone. Holding up a finger, he picked up. "Hold on a sec, Fran. Hello? Oh yeah, hi- we're here, where are...? What? On a SATURDAY? Yeah, I agree, he should be shot.no, it's okay..no Syd, really, we'll do it another time..it's no big deal, really- huh? Okay, bye.."

Will hung up, a bemused look on his face.

"That Sydney?"

"Yeah."

"Let me guess- something came up at work."

"Yup. Her boss called some surprise meeting or something. That job of hers is really weird. She gets called out for all kinds of crap at all hours." He pocketed his phone and took Francie's elbow, gently steering her towards his car. "I tell her to quit, but.." he shrugged. "It's just..weird."

Francie gave him a look. "William Tippen-"

"I know, I KNOW. Stay out of her business." Will rolled his eyes.

"I mean it, Will. She'll tell you what's up if she wants to."

"Yeah." Will's tone became contrite. "Let's go get some food, alright? I'll..stop. I promise. Come on, I'm starving."

Francie searched his face, still not satisfied. "Will. If you DO get involved, I personally will kick your-"

"Arraaggh! All RIGHT," said Will irritably, raking both hands through his sandy hair. "Come on."

Dixon looked at his watch for the third time. It was eight-fifteen- Sydney was VERY late. He glanced over at his colleagues. Sloane was impatiently tapping away at the glasstop desk with a silver Parker. His ever-present black leather briefing folder sat before him, untouched. Marshall, who'd been called down form the tech department, was doodling on his folder with a felt-tip pen that promptly exploded, sending splatters of ink all over the table. Sloane gave him a glacial look, then turned to Dixon, who was seated next to Jack Bristow, silently handing Marshall a handkerchief with a slight roll of his eyes. Sloane frowned at Dixon.

"Were my instructions unclear?"

Dixon sat up straight. "No, sir. I called her and informed her of the meeting time. She overslept, so she may be a little late."

Sloane nodded, still looking unconvinced.

Just then, as if she's heard his words, Sydney stalked into the room, banging the door open with an utter disregard for poor Marshall, who was behind the door throwing away his pen. With a brusque "sorry I'm late," she flounced over to her chair and plopped down. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she saw a drawn, tired, pale-faced woman with dark circles under her eyes, shower-damp hair pulled back in a stringy ponytail, and a gathering zit on her chin. Lovely. Altogether, she was the perfect portrait of PMS.

Sloane looked at her sternly. "Sydney, you are late. Luckily your partner was able to vouch for you."

No. Really? The words were at the tip of Sydney's tongue, but she managed to bite them back. "I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again."

Let's hope not." Sloane reopened his mouth, eager to mediate a lecture, but stopped short when he saw the expression on her face. Over twenty years of marriage had taught him one thing- never, EVER argue with a woman who looks like that. "Hem. Anyway, now that you have graced us with your presence, we can begin."

Taking his cue, the others all sat up straighter, pulling their folders towards them and turning their flat screen computer monitors on. Sloane waited a few seconds for the noise to abate, then began to speak.

"This meeting has actually been planned for quite some time, but for certain security reasons, was not announced till this morning. I regret any inconvenience this may have caused you."

Sydney smirked audibly, and Dixon kicked her underneath the table, flashing her a warning glance that was supplemented by one from Jack. She'd never been that rude before, at least to his face.

"Now, as you know, you have been working together for some time," Sloane continued in his monotone. "We are pleased with your combined work so far, although we may not say so as often as we should. Your loyalty and dedication to this agency has not been unnoticed. I do give praise where it is due, and I think you both deserve it." He gave Sydney and Dixon an actual smile.

Sydney wanted to puke. Her head was pounding, too.

Sloane continued. "Your status is about to change." He paused for dramatic effect.

Dork, Sydney thought irreverently, her loathing for the man increasing. I want my bed. What a bastard.

"A new member will be joining your usual team."

Sydney sat up straight, her headache forgotten. "What?"

Dixon looked equally surprised. Adding new team members was very rare- SD-6 usually tried to keep working partners together as long as possible. In fact, except when either was indisposed, Sydney couldn't remember working with someone as extensively as she did Dixon.

Sloan continued. "This new agent has been working with us since 1999. She's a brilliant young woman- a genius, really- who's been highly recommended for promotion in this agency. It may interest you, Sydney, that she was under Jack's direct training, and she is with us under his recommendation."

Sydney's head was spinning. Her father? Recommended an SD-6 agent to her team? His face was totally unreadable, as usual. No answers there.

"Agent Talia Carreras." Sloane opened his folder, and the others followed. A picture of a very young, unsmiling woman appeared on the screen in front of them.

"Age 21," Sloane continued. "She's achieved a great deal for being so young. She speaks over eleven languages, holds a degree in linguistics, and can assume nearly any language, disguise, or identity without suspicion."

A series of photographs, each of Agent Carreras, appeared, with her in a different disguise each time. "Miss Carreras is the only daughter of the late Supreme Court judge Marcus Carreras."

"That judge who was assassinated in the courtroom a couple years back by some deranged defendant?" Dixon wanted to know.

Sloane nodded. "The very one. His actual assassin was KGB agent McKennas Cole, sent to silence the man. As you know, Cole went rogue from our agency over six years ago. Cole disappeared, and SD-6 took her into a witness protection program as a precaution. After Cole's henchman was caught by our agency, she continued to work with us, out of gratitude.

"Her potential was discovered, and since then, she's become one of our most valuable assets, due to her father's connections. She is also an excellent agent.

"She's a unique young woman. In her first years with this agency, though, were weren't completely sure she'd work out."

"She got demerits- twice? For submitting reports in Pig Latin?" Dixon was incredulous, reading form his folder.

"Yes- that was an example of her former....childishness," Jack broke in. "She was quite a practical joker. Pranks were common, but she was not discharged, due to her exceptional skills and performances in training missions. After all, she was barely eighteen when she was recruited- and as you know, the pressures of this job negatively affect agents with years of experience."

Sloane nodded in agreement. "Your father, Sydney, saw something in her, and took her under his tutelage, with his other trainees. Since then, her maturity has been proven in many ways, and I feel she is ready to take her next step in this career.

"Agent Carreras will be joining you on your next mission. I will provide the details after she is introduced to all of you." He paused. "Are there any questions?"

When none were forthcoming, he turned to Jack. "She's your trainee- why don't you bring her in?"

Jack nodded briskly, then stood and strode out the door.

Feedback, please, y'all. I don't mind flames, just say SOMETHING! Constructive criticism is always appreciated, though. Oh, and does anyone know how to make italics show up on this website?