Letting Go

Five hours later and not even half way through their flight, Sydney and Vaughn sat side-by-side, laughing and reminiscing.

"How about that time...when we had to go... to that club. You know, the one... the one... with all the scary Goths." Sydney said, struggling to gasp for air, as she laughed.

Vaughn laughed harder, remembering the ridiculous amount of eyeliner Sydney had applied to his face so that they would fit in.

"Don't remind me!" Vaughn exclaimed. "It took me a week to wash that gel outta my hair!"

At this the pair laughed hysterically. Sydney with her eyes closed began rocking back and forth struggling for air. Her laughing was ceased when her head came painfully in contact with Vaughn's. In her rashness she had not realized that she was so close to Vaughn and head butted him, with such a force, that she immediately felt the onset of a migraine.

Rubbing her head, Sydney apologized profusely. "Oh, Vaughn, I'm so sorry. You poor thing. Are you Okay?" she asked with concern in her voice.

"Oh, don't worry Syd. I inherited a hard head from my mother. Are you okay?"

Sydney smiled to reassure him and then answered, "Yeah, I'm fine, just gonna have a headache for a while, that's all."

Vaughn wasn't convinced however and reached for Sydney's hand, which was still covering the bruise slowly appearing on her forehead, obstructing his view of the damage.

"Syd, it looks really red. It must hurt alot!" Vaughn said worriedly.

But Sydney could not reply. Vaughn's hand had made it's way to her forehead and was softly stroking the developing bruise. She stared into Vaughn's eyes as his scanned her face and his hands began to trace her prominent jaw line. With his palm on her cheek, Vaughn stroked Sydney's lips with his thumb, finally letting his eyes meet hers.

Sydney could think of nothing but her desire for Vaughn. Her desire to pull him closer and kiss him. But she knew she couldn't, she wouldn't as long as he was with Lauren. She refused to become the other woman.

Vaughn finally broke the silence. "I miss this. Us. I miss being able to touch you. Being able to look at you longingly from across the room. This...situation, reminds me of when you first came to the CIA. Our love was forbidden because I was you handler. It was just as frustrating then as it is now."

Sydney pulled away from Vaughn, letting his hand drop from her face. "There's a difference though Vaughn. There's someone else involved now. Your wife. And as long as she is involved, there can be no us, like there was before. We should just keep things strictly professional. Any missions that we are assigned to must be carried out with strict professionalism and nothing more."

Sydney was surprised at her sudden change of tone, and from the look on his face, so was Vaughn.

"Okay, Syd. If that's what you want, then i respect that."

"Yes," replied Sydney, "that is what I want."

At this, Vaughn averted his eyes from Sydney's and stared out of the window behind her. Opening his mouth to speak, he found that there was nothing he could say or do in such an awkward situation.

He wanted to protest, to at least add in a 'but.' Looking back at Sydney, he managed a meager smile, which Sydney returned uncomfortably.

She knew that neither of them wanted their relationship to be strictly professional, but if she wanted to be with Vaughn, it would have to be legitimate. Not secretive, and in no circumstance was she going to let Vaughn hurt Lauren. Even though she despised the woman, she would never wish that kind of pain upon anyone. She knew from experience that losing the love of your life was like losing a piece of your soul that could never be replaced.

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Ten hours later and severely jet-lagged, Sydney and Vaughn checked into their Hotel, just around the corner from Sark's headquarters, and the sight of a major million dollar car show, being held by Sark that very evening.

Sydney had been able to find out from a source in Bosnia, that Sark was using the event to mask his true agenda. The countries most rich and famous figures would be there this evening, supposedly to be another fast car. Their true reason for attending however was to be given a private tour of Sark's labs and no doubt, his impressive Ramabldi collection. By impressing the millionaire's he would convince them to invest in his cause, no doubt. And then run off with their money. That was the thing with Sark; he was unloyal, as he'd proved on a countless number of occasions.

The hotel that Sydney and Vaughn had chosen was one of the best and most expensive in this region of Bosnia. Thankfully the CIA was paying for the stay.

After collecting the electronic key to their rooms, Sydney and Vaughn made their way to the seventh floor.

They walked in silence along the corridor to their rooms, which were next door to each other. Since Sydney's final statement on their relationship, Vaughn had not spoken unless it was absolutely necessary. Thinking that Vaughn was holding a grudge, Sydney did the same.

But that was not Vaughn was not speaking to Sydney. It was just that he didn't know what to say to her. If he opened his mouth, he wouldn't be sure about what was 'professional' and was was not. Realising he didn't know how to just be professional, Vaughn decided it was best to not say much at all.