Butdhu [It's an inside joke, Screech, Jen and I are the only ones to
understand]
Author: Queenie47
Beta: The one and only Screech! [And you're the betterer one! ]
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters -- wish I did -- that'd be lovely, but I don't, they belong to J.J. Abrams, Bad Robot and ABC.
Rating: PG-13 to be safe
Pairings: Is that a rhetorical question? S/V of course!
Summary: Jack is a powerful man in the government and has recently been getting threats about harm being done to his daughter. Sydney is his 20- year-old daughter who is attending college. He's afraid someone may try to get to him by hurting her, so he hires her a bodyguard. Most definitely AU!
Dedication: To Screech because she knows why!
Author's Note: The title is a inside joke between Screech, Jen, and I. In no way will this fic be a weird one, just one showing the building relationship between Sydney and Vaughn. So I present to you the first chapter, I hope you like it, and let me know what you think.
[1]
Senator Jack Bristow sat at his desk, going through his mail, when his eye caught an envelope with no return address, one that was addressed to a Mr. Jack Bristow.
He opened the envelope; it was rather large and had him wondering what could be in it.
He pulled a piece of paper out of the envelope, but set it down when he noticed that it was still unusually thick.
Dumping out the rest of the contents of the envelope, he gasped, picking up the objects and leafing through them.
Picture after picture, all of the same thing: Sydney.
Sydney around campus, at her home, out with her friends, walking down the sidewalk, talking on the phone, driving her car. Sydney doing everything imaginable.
Someone had been stalking his daughter.
He fingered the note before picking it up, and opening it.
*If you want your daughter to stay safe, you'll meet our demands. You'll be contacted soon. Don't alert anyone, or she's dead.*
His hands started trembling as he picked up the phone, he knew just the person to call.
"May I please speak to Michael Vaughn?" he asked quietly?
When said man got on the phone, he said one simple thing, "I need your help."
****
Michael Vaughn sat in his office staring at the phone. He had been contracted by Jack Bristow before, but never to protect someone as precious to the man as his daughter.
It had always been an ambassador to the United States or someone like that, but never the man's daughter.
The conversation played through his mind again.
**"I need your help."
The pleading note in the man's voice sent shivers up Michael's back, and he nodded, even though he couldn't be seen, "Of course Mr. Bristow, anything."
"Today I received a letter, threatening my daughter, and if I thought this threat wasn't real, I would have contacted a bodyguard service Mr. Vaughn. But this I believe it's real, you've protected the president before, I need you to protect my daughter."
"What makes you think this is serious?" Vaughn asked.
"It appears whoever sent this note to me has been stalking her, there are pictures of her everywhere in here, at her school, at her home, out with her friends. Whoever did this knows where to find her."
"I understand," Vaughn replied, "When do I start?"
"Tomorrow morning, I'll have her meet you at the UCLA campus."
"Sounds good to me sir."
"And Mr. Vaughn, if anything happens to my daughter, I will hold you responsible," he threatened.**
And then he had hung up.
He was still lost in his thoughts when his best friend, Eric Weiss walked into his office, plopping down in the seat across from him.
"Hey Mike, buddy, you look all depressed, what's up?"
"Jack Bristow just called," Vaughn sighed.
"As in Senator Jack Bristow?" Weiss questioned, and upon Vaughn's nod, he continued, "What did he want?"
"He wants me to protect his daughter."
His best friend laughed, giving him a slap on the back and wishing him good luck, before he walked out the door.
He didn't know what to expect.
'She'll probably be a spoiled rotten little princess,' he thought with a wry laugh. What had he gotten himself into?
****
The next day...
Sydney Bristow was still sulking about the phone call she had received from her father the night before.
He thought she couldn't take care of herself, that she needed a bodyguard to look after her just because he was on the other side of the country.
At the word 'bodyguard,' her face scrunched up, she could just imagine the guy her father had hired.
Probably some 40-something year old guy with a beer belly and a gun, thinking he was some gun-slinging outlaw from the old west.
No one she would trust with her life.
So lost in her thoughts, she didn't hear the person approach her until he was standing in front of her.
"Are you Sydney Bristow?" he asked quietly.
She nodded, not looking up at him as he thrust his hand out to her, "My name's Michael Vaughn."
Her eyes connected with his, and she looked at him, 'Oh wow!'
TBC...
~&~&~
Author: Queenie47
Beta: The one and only Screech! [And you're the betterer one! ]
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters -- wish I did -- that'd be lovely, but I don't, they belong to J.J. Abrams, Bad Robot and ABC.
Rating: PG-13 to be safe
Pairings: Is that a rhetorical question? S/V of course!
Summary: Jack is a powerful man in the government and has recently been getting threats about harm being done to his daughter. Sydney is his 20- year-old daughter who is attending college. He's afraid someone may try to get to him by hurting her, so he hires her a bodyguard. Most definitely AU!
Dedication: To Screech because she knows why!
Author's Note: The title is a inside joke between Screech, Jen, and I. In no way will this fic be a weird one, just one showing the building relationship between Sydney and Vaughn. So I present to you the first chapter, I hope you like it, and let me know what you think.
[1]
Senator Jack Bristow sat at his desk, going through his mail, when his eye caught an envelope with no return address, one that was addressed to a Mr. Jack Bristow.
He opened the envelope; it was rather large and had him wondering what could be in it.
He pulled a piece of paper out of the envelope, but set it down when he noticed that it was still unusually thick.
Dumping out the rest of the contents of the envelope, he gasped, picking up the objects and leafing through them.
Picture after picture, all of the same thing: Sydney.
Sydney around campus, at her home, out with her friends, walking down the sidewalk, talking on the phone, driving her car. Sydney doing everything imaginable.
Someone had been stalking his daughter.
He fingered the note before picking it up, and opening it.
*If you want your daughter to stay safe, you'll meet our demands. You'll be contacted soon. Don't alert anyone, or she's dead.*
His hands started trembling as he picked up the phone, he knew just the person to call.
"May I please speak to Michael Vaughn?" he asked quietly?
When said man got on the phone, he said one simple thing, "I need your help."
****
Michael Vaughn sat in his office staring at the phone. He had been contracted by Jack Bristow before, but never to protect someone as precious to the man as his daughter.
It had always been an ambassador to the United States or someone like that, but never the man's daughter.
The conversation played through his mind again.
**"I need your help."
The pleading note in the man's voice sent shivers up Michael's back, and he nodded, even though he couldn't be seen, "Of course Mr. Bristow, anything."
"Today I received a letter, threatening my daughter, and if I thought this threat wasn't real, I would have contacted a bodyguard service Mr. Vaughn. But this I believe it's real, you've protected the president before, I need you to protect my daughter."
"What makes you think this is serious?" Vaughn asked.
"It appears whoever sent this note to me has been stalking her, there are pictures of her everywhere in here, at her school, at her home, out with her friends. Whoever did this knows where to find her."
"I understand," Vaughn replied, "When do I start?"
"Tomorrow morning, I'll have her meet you at the UCLA campus."
"Sounds good to me sir."
"And Mr. Vaughn, if anything happens to my daughter, I will hold you responsible," he threatened.**
And then he had hung up.
He was still lost in his thoughts when his best friend, Eric Weiss walked into his office, plopping down in the seat across from him.
"Hey Mike, buddy, you look all depressed, what's up?"
"Jack Bristow just called," Vaughn sighed.
"As in Senator Jack Bristow?" Weiss questioned, and upon Vaughn's nod, he continued, "What did he want?"
"He wants me to protect his daughter."
His best friend laughed, giving him a slap on the back and wishing him good luck, before he walked out the door.
He didn't know what to expect.
'She'll probably be a spoiled rotten little princess,' he thought with a wry laugh. What had he gotten himself into?
****
The next day...
Sydney Bristow was still sulking about the phone call she had received from her father the night before.
He thought she couldn't take care of herself, that she needed a bodyguard to look after her just because he was on the other side of the country.
At the word 'bodyguard,' her face scrunched up, she could just imagine the guy her father had hired.
Probably some 40-something year old guy with a beer belly and a gun, thinking he was some gun-slinging outlaw from the old west.
No one she would trust with her life.
So lost in her thoughts, she didn't hear the person approach her until he was standing in front of her.
"Are you Sydney Bristow?" he asked quietly.
She nodded, not looking up at him as he thrust his hand out to her, "My name's Michael Vaughn."
Her eyes connected with his, and she looked at him, 'Oh wow!'
TBC...
~&~&~