A/N I was recently delayed at the airport for many hours, and found myself wondering how Sydney's mission would fail if she got stuck in a similar situation. It was going to be a funny story of airport woes, but when I started writing, it turned into this. Please let me know what you think. I've never written an "Alias" story before, though I am a HUGE fan of the show. There may be another chapter about their post visit, respective evenings- if there is any interest for it. Thanks for reading!

Delayed

She walked into the warehouse with quiet steps, trying to keep a hold on her racing heart at the sight of him. He was always there first, waiting patiently until she could get away from class, SD-6, or her friends. Lately, she had to admit to herself, he hadn't had to wait too long, as her eagerness to see him made for many abrupt departures from- well, anywhere.

"Hi"

"Hi. How was your trip?"

"Not good, we got delayed at the airport for 5 hours. K- Directorate got to Cairo first."

"What about the files?"

"After we searched the Museum of Antiquities and found nothing, we tried to trace the files to another location. We were unsuccessful."

"How do you know it was K- Directorate?"

"I ran into Anna at our hotel."

"What do you mean-"

"We went to the hotel to sleep, intending to retrace in the morning by 'borrowing' the Museum security tapes. I tried to go to sleep, but there was a lot of noise coming from the room next to mine. I knocked on their door to ask them to keep it down, and Anna answered."

"What did you do?"

"I went for her throat! I would've had her too, but her partner knocked me out from behind. When I came to they were gone, and the room had been cleaned."

"What did Dixon say about this?"

"I didn't tell him. The CIA can go after the files, and this way SD-6 won't be able to get their hands on them first."

"Syd, you should have told Dixon! You were hurt, you should've had him check you out, take you to the doctor, logged your injuries. Now SD-6 will think you're fine- they might send you back into the field before you're healed!"

"I'm okay, Vaughn. It's just a few bruises."

"Still, we need to get you checked."

"I can't go to the doctor now, SD-6 will find out."

"Sydney, I need to put this in your file, you know that! Besides, this could make you vulnerable- and Dixon too." He'd use whatever card he had to play, and he knew she wouldn't put Dixon in harm's way.

"I'm really okay. We probably won't even get another trip for a few more days."

He tried to adopt a more cajoling tone before he said, "Syd…", but when he put his hand on her shoulder, she flinched.

The charade was up. She stared at him for a long moment before she relented. "Okay, Vaughn, but I can't go to my doctor and you know it. You can check me out, to prove to yourself that I will heal, and I'll take some aspirin when I get home. I'll rest, I promise."

What was she doing? She had to chastise herself for even the thought of 'playing doctor' with Vaughn. Though on the surface she appeared calm and conciliatory, underneath she was cursing having suggested such a thing. What would he say? Maybe point out the obvious that he wasn't a trained and licensed medical professional?

Had he heard her right? Was she saying that she would disrobe for his careful and close inspection? 'Get a grip, Mike,' he told himself harshly, 'she doesn't think of you that way.'

"Alright, fine, but if you aren't feeling better within a few days, you're going to a real doctor. We'll stage a car accident or something, so SD-6 won't be suspicious."

"Fine."

"Promise me, Syd. You'll tell me if you aren't getting better in a couple days?"

"Yes, whatever you say- Agent Vaughn."

They stared at each other for a few seconds, and then burst out laughing; each silently admitting that they were both just acting like petulant children. Coming back to their current situation, Sydney slowly turned around and began unbuttoning her jacket. Behind her, Vaughn reddened and sternly reminded himself that he was a government agent, a handler, and that he was just protecting his asset.

Then he saw what she hid under her basic black, and the creases on his forehead doubled.

She was in dark red satin and lace, at least that's what he saw from the back. A camisole, he thought that's what they call it. Snapping back to himself, he suddenly became aware of violent black and blue marks all over her back and across one shoulder.

"Sydney, I thought you said it wasn't that bad?" he practically yelped.

"I'm okay. Trust me, I've been through worse."

It was the truth, and it pained him. She was always getting knocked down- figuratively and literally- and it hurt to never be able to protect her.

She blushed slightly and admitted, "It does hurt a little to touch, so I couldn't wear a bra…" had she really just said that out loud? To Agent Vaughn? Get a grip, Sydney!

"I'll be gentle." His hand shook as he reached out slowly to trace the pattern of her injured shoulder. So softly, so that she wasn't certain he had even touched her. A trail of goosebumps sprang up where she imagined his fingertips had brushed her skin. It distracted her from her surroundings, and she closed her eyes against the contact.

A sigh escaped her, and he froze. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, just… I'm fine." Better than fine.

He began his exploration again, trying to be even more careful. Her skin was so soft; he forced himself to complete his task before he did something he would surely get his ass kicked for.

"I need to see how far these bruises go, uh, is it okay if I, uh, lift this?" He made a gesture in the general direction of her top, not that she could see it.

She nodded; it was easier than speaking. She didn't know if she could trust her voice right now anyway.

His fingers edged her camisole up slightly, while he leaned in to see how bad the bruises on her back were. The material slipped, and he made direct contact with the silky skin over her ribs. She stopped breathing, but her heart raced at a ridiculous speed. The thought came against her will: if I turn slightly, right or left, I could feel his fingertips just beneath my breasts.

"Sorry," he righted the elusive material, using it as a barrier between her skin and his own. A small voice inside his head screamed at him in protest. He had to finish now, as quickly as possible, and get some distance between them. Back in inspector mode, he sighed heavily, and his warm breath caressed her back.

"Evil!" Had she said that out loud? Great, how could she play that off?

"What?" He straightened up, convinced that the bruises were ugly, but not fatal.

"Ah, nothing… just- nothing." Real articulate, Syd. "So, will I live, Doctor Vaughn?" She attempted a laugh, anything to change the subject and distract her already distracted mind.

"Yes, but I want to check you out again in 2 days. Those are ugly bruises, but I don't think they can do in the 'Great Sydney Bristow'." His tone was stern, but light. He convinced himself that the re-check was for her benefit, not his.

"I'm a pretty fast healer, so I should be much improved in 2 days' time. For now, I'm going to pop a few pills, and soak in a hot bath. Thanks for your help, Vaughn. I know I gave you a hard time, but I feel better now that you looked me over." Okay, that was a little obvious, Bristow.

Vaughn nodded, and turned to gather his briefcase and suit coat. He'd be heading home to a cold beer and an even colder shower, after this little encounter. At least before he didn't have a clear visual image of her soft, smooth skin to go along with his own imaginings; now he'd have to actively block the memory of touching her so intimately from his mind. He'd never be able to sleep again. As long as he stayed awake, he could control his thoughts.

When he turned back to face her, she was buttoned back up into her 'bank' suit. Somehow she looked sexier to him, as if knowing what she wore under her clothes was a secret they shared by choice. She leaned in and hugged him, but he was afraid of hurting her, so he settled for resting his hands lightly on her hips.

"Thanks Vaughn, for always looking out for me." It was a simple statement that held so much meaning. She left it at that. She needed to get out quickly; his hands were burning into her hips.

"I'll see you in a couple of days," he said, pulling back. "Call me if you need anything."

"Okay, see you." Turning, she walked out of the warehouse, into the slowly fading sunlight.

It's going to be a long couple of days.