A/N: By the way, this story takes place probably around the same time as The Telling, except I really like Francie so she's not a double agent. Sloane is evil, Irina Derevko isn't exactly trusted, just like the end of S2.
Chapter 2: On An Un-Assignment
"Sydney, you do realize that we're breaking about a dozen laws, right?" Weiss spoke into the comm lodged in his ear as he looked through the binoculars into the Italian manor.
"Eric, Dimitri had intel that could lead us to Vaughn. I, for one, am not going to pass that up."
She walked down the main hallway, seeing a light shining underneath the closed door.
"Promise me that you're just going to chat. Promise me that it won't end like it did before," Eric begged, holding still as he heard footsteps outside the "abandoned" van. They moved on, leaving Weiss talking to "himself" once more as he heard the door fly open over the static of his comm.
"Tu chi sei?" [Who are you?] The man sat up quickly, the book abandoned in his lap as he reached for what she assumed to be a gun underneath the large fluffy mattress. The click of a hammer made him stop mid-grab, seeing Sydney's weapon already directed at his head.
"Stai per rispondere alle mie domande. Tutti loro." [You are going to answer my questions. All of them.] Sydney closed the door behind her and walked over to the edge of his bed.
"Quali domande? Chi diavolo sei e cosa stai facendo a casa mia?" [What questions? Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my home?]
"Agente Vaughn."
"Who is this Agente? Why is America in my home?" he asked in broken English. Sydney lowered the weapon as she heard Dixon's abort code in her ear.
"Is he alive? You were last seen with a man named Arvin Sloane and the CIA has reason to believe that he has taken one of our agents. We need any information you can provide," Sydney asked the man.
"Ho una scelta in questa materia? Sloane è un uomo molto importante con molti alleati. Perché dovrei sacrificare la mia vita a favore della CIA?" [Do I have a choice in this matter? Sloane is a very important man with many allies. Why would I sacrifice my life to the favor of the CIA?]
He crossed his arms over his chest as he stared down the female agent.
"Because if you don't give me what I want, you'll beg for Sloane when I'm through with you. Dimmi cosa sai, dannazione, e non mentirmi!" [Tell me what you know, damn it, and don't you lie to me.] She snarled, crossing the space between them quickly, shoving the barrel of her gun underneath his chin.
"Syd, let's go. We're out of time, the alarm will be triggered in thirty seconds. You gotta get out!" Weiss shouted at Sydney.
"I know not, I give my word. Sloane is not loose with his words. He was never mentioning an Agente, I swear." Sweat beaded on his upper lip as he cowered sideways from the angry stare of the fiery-eyed woman.
The alarm sounded, making her jump as she heard footsteps pounding down the hallway. She ran to the center of the room, Weiss's angry voice thumping through her comm as he called her practically every name in the book.
"You know, Weiss, this isn't a good time right now."
"You f… sonova…damn it, Sydney! I'm on my way!" Eric snarled and threw open the door to the van, hearing it slam as the hinges groaned in protest. He ran to the northwest side of the house, his eyes immediately finding the lit window. Hearing gunfire erupt, he radioed in. "Sydney! You okay? Answer me!" he ordered, looking up as the glass from the window shattered. She dropped the two and a half stories like a lead balloon, hitting the grass ten feet away with a grunt and a thud.
"You are going to kill me, you know that?" he heard her slight moan and hefted her into his arms, running her back to the van. He unceremoniously tossed her into the back as bullets ricocheted off the equipment, leaving gaping holes in the metal as he revved the engine and took off.
He looked back in the mirror as Sydney held her stomach, several cuts and scratches littering her face as she groaned, sliding into the closed doors. He reached over and hit the lock button, hearing them all click simultaneously.
"Wouldn't want you to fall out."
"Thanks…" her voice was breathy, winded, and semi-strangled as she slid into the wall of the van.
…
"Ouch."
"Shut up. You brought this upon yourself." Eric snarled as he pushed the sharp needle through the skin of her shoulder, sealing up the wound with dental floss from the nearly empty safe house's medicine cabinet.
"What is your problem?" she asked, turning her head to look over at him.
"Sydney, it's been seven months since Vaughn. . ."
"Went missing, I know."
"Died, Sydney, just say it. You know that's the outcome of all this. Sloane didn't do anything to him, Syd, he doesn't still have him. He's…gone."
Tears filled her eyes as she looked forward, focusing her eyes on the raging fire place, the heat filling the living room with a hollow warmth.
"I refuse to believe that, Weiss, and neither should you. There wasn't a body. There's no way he's gone," she growled and pulled away as he finished cutting off the piece of floss, the needle dropping to the floor.
"Okay, look, I don't want to fight about this anymore. But you know you're still under investigation after shooting, ruthlessly, I might add, a nearly innocent man."
"Cross fire."
"He wasn't in the crossfire, Syd. It's gotta end sometime, and if you keep doing what you're doing, then it's going to end with you in jail. Kendall's mighty pissed about the mission tonight as it is."
"I managed to get the disc, so he should be happy. I completed the mission successfully, and found an opportunity to get information for myself." She walked away from him, reaching into the bag she'd brought with her, and pulled out a light shirt and a pair of sleep pants. "I'm going to bed; I'll see you in the morning."
Weiss nodded, still sitting in place with the string of semi-bloodied floss between his fingers and a confused/concerned glare clouding his features.
She'd never actually been the same since Vaughn went "missing." The CIA investigation had ended months ago, the agency decreeing that Agent Michael C. Vaughn had been killed and his body disposed of, but Sydney wasn't so easy to give in. Weiss knew it was the connection between them. They'd always had it; it was present the very first moment she'd walked into the CIA building with crazy red hair and an even crazier attitude.
After all, it wasn't every day when a young woman offers herself over to the United States government for double agent duty to try and bring down a worldwide terrorist organization.
It was as if life for Sydney didn't matter any longer, and that was something he wasn't going to put up with. For weeks he'd been trying to get her to cool off, cut back, and in general – relax and move on. No matter how many people she'd accumulated to her wanted list, none of it was going to bring Vaughn back. Dead or alive. He knew she didn't want to think that way, but that had always been Sydney's way of coping with disaster. Positive thinking was the only way she knew to get through whatever obstacle entered her path. Ingenuity wasn't in short supply either.
In the last seven months, Eric had gotten to know Sydney better than he ever thought. She was arrogant, sometimes self-detrimental, but at the same time, she always knew exactly where he was at all times during a mission which showed some responsibility for someone other than herself. The way she broke the rules wasn't a new thing by any means. She and Vaughn were always all too happy to toss the rule book out the window and make it up on the fly.
As much as he hated to admit it, he had been a bit more depressed than he'd let on. Vaughn had been his best friend.
No, scratch that.
Closer. Vaughn had been his brother, and after his death, or supposed kidnapping, he'd felt so alone. The only other person who was going through the exact same thing, and happened to live within the city of L.A., was Sydney.
They'd gotten closer over the last few months, always going on missions together – some sanctioned and others rogue. For some reason the agency, save for Kendall, turned their heads. Many of the higher-ups knew Vaughn's father, or was in some direct connection with Michael himself, and would therefore not mind a few fellow agents desperately not wanting to give in to their mutual friend's demise.
Weiss shook his head, trying to rid himself of his pensive mood as he rose and stalked into the kitchen. There was little to no food, and thought his stomach was growling, he ignored the rumbling and decided that Sydney's idea of sleep was a pretty good one.
He made sure all the windows and doors were locked before flopping down on the tattered old couch for the night. Around three o'clock in the morning, which is only what the microwave in the kitchen said, he heard padded footfall headed his direction. Sydney's soft, broken voice filled the dark silence.
"Eric?" she whispered, reaching out and poking his arm. He could hear a hint of a hiccup in her voice and figured she'd been crying.
"Yeah?" his voice was groggy, laced with sleep as he cracked his eyes open once more to see her kneeling down beside the couch.
He saw the dim light from the kitchen reflect off of her tear stained cheeks and reached out, brushing one of the saline drops away with his thumb. She turned her face into his hand, briefly letting a small smile slip out.
"Do you really think he's gone, Weiss?"
"Syd, I think that you should go ahead and move on with your life."
"How?" the single question was half sobbed as she sat down on the floor, bringing her knees up to her chin.
"Hell, Syd, I don't know. Everyone moves on in their own way. It's really up to you to decide how you're ready to get over him. He'll always be a big chunk of you, just like he will me, but it's time to let go." He sat up and reached out, dragging her up onto the couch with him.
"Eric, I just don't want to let him go yet. He was so important to me." He tipped over, resting her head on his shoulder for the millionth time since that night.
"It's gonna be hard to get over him, I know it will. I've just about killed myself at the gym trying to keep him from my mind, and keep you sane." He grinned, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders in an attempt to help her heal faster. "But you're not alone; you know that right?"
"Yeah."
"Right?"
She sobbed a chuckle and he kissed her temple. "Yes, sir."
"We need some rest if we're gonna make it back to L.A. tomorrow."
"Technically, you mean today."
"Right, whatever. Today. Let's sleep, huh?" he asked, seeing her look up at him.
"Weiss…"
"Yeah?"
"Will you help me get over him? I know for a fact that I'm not strong enough to do it on my own." She looked down into her lap, unable to make eye contact with him.
He cupped her face with both hands, forcing her to look up at him.
"Sydney, you're the strongest person I know. You can definitely get through this. But I would be happy to help. Besides, I'm at your place seven nights a week anyway, might as well continue the tradition of tequila night." He grinned, seeing her stand and hold out a hand to him.
"Come on, this couch can't be too comfortable. The bed is a king size, so you'll have one whole side to yourself." He accepted quickly, standing as his twisted back protested with a loud pop, making her laugh again as her dimples came out on her cheeks.
"There they are. Haven't seen those dimples in a while. Good to know your face is still complete," he joked, jumping onto the bed as it creaked with his forced weight.
"You know, I never mentioned it, but you look great. I guess making sure you kept up with me every time we went running has really paid off." She grinned, sliding in next to him as he mumbled whatever before rolling away from her. "Thanks, Eric," she whispered and flopped onto her own pillow, her mind still settling on Vaughn, the memories painful, but hopefully in time she'd be able to let go of the past and move on.
She knew it wouldn't be easy, but Weiss had become one of her closest friends, and she knew that with his help, coupled with Francie and Will on the side, she'd always have a cushion to fall back on if she slipped.
…