AN: I am not in love with this chapter. However, I liked it just enough not to throw it out. I may revise it later on.


"Cold and Boring"

The sidewalk cafe was crowded but only just. In spite of it's full capacity, it seemed to retain a sense of calm as the pre-dusk hours settled themselves in expectation of evening. "So I can't believe of everywhere we've been that we have never had dinner in Paris," Sydney stated in amazement.

"It is pretty amazing," Vaughn agreed allowing his smile to announce his high spirits.

"That we're here? Or that this is the first time?"

"Mmm, both."

"You know my favorite thing about France?"

"The company?"

"Okay second favorite. They have really, really great wine," she said lifting her glass to take another sip. He laughed at her nearly tipsy state.

"That's your favorite thing?"

"Yeah, it's so much better when it doesn't come from a liquor store. And look. Look at this Vaughn." She held the cork out to him for his perusal. "It's not that plastic looking thing that's in there sometimes. It really looks like it came from a cork tree."

"You know, you can buy wine with real corks in Los Angeles," he informed smiling.

"But why should I? Why should I when I can come here?"

"You shouldn't."

"I know. I like it here. Maybe I'll live here someday," she mused carelessly as she watched passersby strolling leisurely with seemingly nowhere else to be.

"Yeah? What happened to that island you wanted?"

"I still want it. But I'll have to come here for the wine."

"Well, you'll have to bring some back for me because I will refuse to leave the island."

"So you're coming?"

"Yeah, I'll be there."

"That's a relief. My coldness wasn't too much of a turn-off?" she asked alluding to an assessment by the apparent curator of Liberty Village.

"Only if I'm boring you to death," he answered recalling their dinner with Weiss and Nadia.

"Not boring. The cited offense was a lack of spontaneity. Either way, they're wrong you know."

"Absolutely," he agreed a little dubiously.

"We are totally hot and exciting. Look at us. We're having dinner in Paris."

"We are."

"And it's amazing."

"And original too," he stated sarcastically with an upraised brow.

"Good point," she conceded. "So what else is there to do in Paris?" He smiled at her enthusiasm.

"You mean you don't want to be cold and boring? You said you liked us."

"I do like us. And one of the things that I like is that we cannot be labeled. We're multi-faceted, well-rounded people capable of having a variety of experiences whether planned or unplanned. Now," she finished her defense, "What the hell is there to do in Paris?"


An hour later, after a satisfying meal and another glass and a half of wine, they strolled aimlessly down the streets of Paris.

"Okay, so there's the obvious stuff, of course," he offered.

"Eiffel Tower, Arch de Triumph, I know. What else?" She answered in rejection.

"The Louvre."

"A museum? I thought we were trying to move away from cold and boring?"

"Hey a museum can be a very stimulating experience," he defended.

"Oh my God, you are boring."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," she replied, "I like 'em too."

"I know." They strolled along looking for something to strike them as bold, daring, or unique, but nothing seemed to present itself so they continued happily on getting further and further away from their waiting plane and further into Montmartre.

"It's gonna be 7 AM by the time we get back," he began glancing at his watch, "I'm thinking half-day tomorrow."

"Half-day?" she asked incredulously. "You are such an over-achiever."

"Agent Bristow," he addressed her in mock scorn, "Your lack of dedication is unacceptable."

"No, Agent Vaughn," she challenged in return, "What is unacceptable is the fact that we are in Paris, and you are talking about work."

"That's unacceptable? Even though I'm suggesting that we neglect it?"

"Yes. Remember, we're not supposed to plan those things. We're supposed to just do them. That's what Eric said."

"Screw Eric. If we don't plan it, things will be left undone and we'll end up getting dragged back in. I don't care anymore. I like our way. Don't you?" She smiled at his mildly annoyed tirade.

"Yeah, I do."

"So, if we're happy with it, why does it matter what he thinks?"

"Okay, okay. So when are you taking off?"

"Probably around one. Come with me to the rink?"

"Yeah?" she asked with a smile that consumed her. "I'd love to. If I can remember how."

"It's okay. I'll take care of you."

You always do, she thought to herself but only nestled closer under his arm and continued to walk. They walked a block more in silence until he stopped her. She looked up to see him grinning with a look in his eye that claimed evil as it's next of kin. She questioned him with her eyes and a tilt of her chin.

"Do you really want to do something unexpected?"

"Like what?" she asked a sudden hesitancy gripping her boldness at the intensity of his eyes.

"I mean something that will shut Weiss up for good."

"Vaughn, what?"

"Turn around," he ordered. She slowly complied and his hand reached over her shoulder to signify the round, red sign above the entryway. Two gold statues sat on either side of the door, and she turned to look at his vast smile.

"You've gotta be kidding me."

"Why? It's definitely something I've never done before. Have you?" he said enticingly.

"No, but, Vaughn. Seriously? Musée de l'Erotisme?"*

"It's perfect. Not only is it a museum, but I think Weiss would approve."

"Ya think?" She debated for a moment. "Fine. Let's do it."


Sydney and Vaughn tumbled out of the museum hours later with laughter pouring forth.

"I think my absolute favorite was the masturbating pig," she giggled.

"I don't know. The contortionists were pretty amazing," he offered.

"Amazing? No way. I could do half that stuff."

"I look forward to it."

"I bet you do," she laughed. "Did you see a post office on the way here?"

"Airport now. I'll drop it in his box when we get back."

"Good idea," she held the postcard up for him to see, "What do you say we try this out on the flight back?"

"I'm definitely not going to say no."


Eric Weiss had stopped by the mailbox on his way into the office, and carelessly tossed the contents onto the seat next to him. Entering the office he scooped it up just as carelessly in a haphazard pile and upon arrival set it on his desk. He really needed to start checking the box more frequently. One item caught his attention and he pulled it from the pile. He stared confusedly for a moment. Two Swiss Army Knives graced the front of the postcard with all of the blades and accessories unfolded. He turned the postcard over, and was confused to find it was written in French and unsigned. His name and address were the only things written in English. He looked around the office expecting to be able to use Vaughn or Sydney for translation, but they were no where to be found. He turned the card back over staring again at the depiction, but was unable to grasp it's significance.

"Agent Weiss, you're needed in the briefing room," Jack interrupted his decryption, "Since Vaughn and Sydney are absent, I will have the unprecedented privilege of running scenarios with you for tomorrow's operation."

"They're not in today?"

"They arrived early this morning. Took the afternoon off," Weiss looked down at the postcard again, a little disappointed. "Is there are problem, Agent Weiss?"

"No," Weiss answered snapping back to the moment. "Just don't parlez-vous French very well."

"May I?" Jack offered extending his hand for the postcard. Weiss handed it over and Jack flipped it over to the text. He read briefly as his posture grew more erect. Flipping the card over, he glanced quickly at the picture before handing it back to Weiss and turning away.

"Hey!" Weiss called out. "What's it say?" Jack turned back to him and managed a reply.

"Briefing room in ten minutes." Weiss turned his attention back to the picture and noticed symbols on the side of the knives. Apparently one male and one female symbol. Taking an even closer look at the arrangement of the knife blades and attachments with this knowledge, it suddenly occurred to him that the female knife was actually kneeling in front of the male knife in the midst of a very intimate activity. His mouth opened briefly in shock before he burst into an amused chuckle. Now he just had to figure out where the hell the thing had come from. Sitting down to his desk he opened up the translation program. The text appeared in the screen in English:

"Weiss, just wanted you to know that you missed out on Paris. Planned? No. Incredible? Absolutely. In case you are wondering, the picture may or may not be a representation of the least spontaneous people you know. Hope you had a good time bowling without us."

That settled the question of where it had come from. Now Weiss was looking forward to telling Vaughn that Jack had seen it. But maybe that would serve him better another day.


*Museum of Eroticism

AN: Should you wish to see the postcard that made me laugh so much I had to write about it, you can find it on the museum's website under "postcards" as of 12/2/10.