A/N: SO sorry that I haven't updated here in AGES!! I finished this story a long time ago, AND wrote and finished a sequel, so I'll try to be faster about posting updates and will post several at a time, whenever I have the chance.

Thanks for the reviews so far! I'm glad you are all enjoying this story, and I hope you're still around to read the rest!!

Enjoy!!

Em :)

Chapter 10:

Sydney woke up before dawn to the sound of her cell phone ringing from within the dresser drawer. She pulled herself out of Vaughn's sleeping embrace, causing him to wake up, and then fumbled around in the dark to retrieve the phone and answered it; her voice scratchy with fatigue, "Hello?"

"Sydney, why didn't you tell me that the painting was in the Louvre??"

She blinked when Vaughn turned on the bedside lamp behind her, and then leaned on her elbow on the dresser and held her head in her hand. "Dad?" she asked sleepily.

"Yes, it's me! I'd like to know why you didn't tell me when I was there!" he repeated. "I could've helped you!!"

"I knew I could do it, and I…I-I didn't want you to worry," she proclaimed at a lame attempt to put him off. Before he could argue, she rushed on, "It was okay, though. I got the painting and got out okay."

She heard him sigh with relief, although he was trying to hide it as usual. "Well, that's good, I suppose. Were there any complications?"

"No, it was easy," she lied again and changed the subject. "I'll be switching them tomorrow before the dead drop."

"Sydney," his voice was a little softer. "If you ever need any help, I would hope by now that you could trust me enough to ask. Help with anything…including something like your current assignment…"

She knew he was talking about Vaughn, and she turned around to lean against the dresser to see Vaughn watching her; propped up on his elbow with his other palm resting flat against the bed where her body had been, waiting for her to return. "I know, Dad. If I feel like I need help, I promise you that I'll call."

There was a long pause before Jack said quietly, "I trust you, Sydney."

Saying their goodbyes, she hung up and put her phone away again, and then walked over to turn off the lamp and crawl back into bed. Vaughn stayed in the same position with his head on his hand as she lay on her back on her unused pillow. "Was your father worried about you?" he asked her.

"Yeah," she nodded. "I didn't tell him about the Louvre earlier, and he apparently just found out."

"And he didn't know that I went with you, right?"

"Right." She rolled her eyes behind her lids. "I can't imagine what he'd do if he knew that." She rubbed her palm against her forehead and sighed as she let it plop down on the mattress, staring back at the ceiling. "Even I know that probably wasn't the best decision I've ever made."

Picking her hand up again off of the mattress between them, he held it, saying, "We made it out, so don't worry about it now." That made her smile a little so he rested her palm on her stomach, and weaved his fingers through hers, making her heart speed up a little as she felt the skin of his rough hands tickling the valleys between her fingers.

Vaughn watched her eyes blink in silence as she mentally relived her conversation with her dad, and waited a moment before softly commenting, "You and your father seem really close."

Sydney felt like laughing. If only he knew… "We didn't used to be. In fact, he was absent for most of my life—so much so that I hardly knew him until a few months ago, when I found out he and I were in the same business."

"You didn't know what he did for a living?"

"Not exactly. I thought he sold airplane parts," she smirked and then sighed.

Vaughn didn't question her about what airplanes were because he had learned all about them in a documentary about the history of aviation on television while Sydney was getting the gear the day before. He simply nodded and she continued.

"And I'm still having a little trouble understanding him. I mean, he wants to have a relationship with me, and I do too, but it's just…hard, you know?"

He nodded but he didn't completely understand. "Why do think that is?" he asked to keep her talking.

"I don't know," she sighed again, honestly trying to figure that out for herself. And although she probably wouldn't have admitted it, talking to Vaughn was therapeutic. "I guess it's because of my mother. When she died, he… he fell apart."

"He loved her that much," Vaughn replied and Sydney turned her head to look at him.

"Yeah. I guess so," she nodded and then turned her face and looked up to the space above their bed. "I just hope I find that kind of love again someday," she murmured and then turned on her side away from him, feeling flushed with embarrassment that she'd divulged that kind of emotion. Or was it that she was already starting to feel that with Vaughn?

Vaughn didn't answer her comment, and simply slipped an arm around her waist and spooned up against her back. "You will," he told her honestly, believing that there was no way that a woman as wonderful as she would never find love like that again.

When they awoke later that morning after sleeping in, and made the switch and the dead drop, they spent the rest of the day visiting more of the popular sites of Paris, studying the outside of the buildings and monuments as they had on Sunday without venturing in. By lunchtime, Sydney was feeling almost like a typical tourist. "Have you ever been inside the Louvre?" she asked him over their desserts.

He gave her an amused look as his answer, so she leaned slightly across the table.

"Besides last night, I mean," she whispered.

He nodded, letting his amusement fade. "I used to visit it often," was his real answer.

"I took an art history class in college," Sydney told him, "and I've always wanted to go in. You think we could do that today?"

"You've never seen the inside?" he asked in surprise. The way she maneuvered around the city, not to mention the museum, was as though she knew it well.

She shook her head. "I've studied enough maps and floor plans enough to know where I'm going," she answered his silent question instead. Then as she took another bite, she asked, "Well?"

Vaughn set his fork down and leaned forward a little. "Would you mind if we did that tomorrow? I'm…I guess I'm kind of tired from last night."

"Sure," Sydney agreed easily. "I've heard it takes about two full days to see everything in it anyway." She took another bite and watched as he started studying something far off in the distance over her shoulder.

"What is that?" he stared, and Sydney turned to see what he was looking at.

It was a Ferris wheel that was still under much controversy in the city of Paris. Having been built temporarily on the Place de la Concorde for the city's millennium celebration in '99, it still remained, much to the chagrin of the more old-fashioned lovers of the city, who thought it was an eyesore. The fight to move it still continued even two years later. "Oh, that's the Big Wheel," she said, looking back at him. "Do you want to ride it?"

He met her eyes, and Sydney sensed a little fear along with the excitement she saw there.

An hour later, Vaughn was acting really nervous as they sat down in the car and the Ferris wheel started to turn, taking them high up in the air. Sydney almost laughed when he reached for her hand and gripped it tightly; while she had a hard time keeping the smile from cracking her face.

Once the reached the top, however, Vaughn relaxed quite a bit and sat in awe, staring at his beautiful birth city as if it were the first time he'd ever seen it. "Look," Sydney pointed down below to the outskirts of the city. "There's your house."

He leaned over her and nodded. "It looks so different," he mumbled. "Trees…" He pointed to the area surrounding his old estate as the wheel began to descend again.

His cheek was so close that Sydney could smell the aftershave she'd bought him. Of course, she just had to have picked out her favorite brand without thinking about the ramifications at the time. Her heart was pounding with the combination of his closeness and the scent, and it was all she could do to keep from pulling him to her lips.

When he turned to look at her because he could feel her eyes on him, he too fought the internal desire, and instead leaned back again. Sydney suddenly realized that her hand was sweating between their entwined fingers, and was actually thankful when her cell phone rang in her pocket and she had to release it to dig the phone out to answer.

"Hello," she choked out once she had to her ear.

"Sydney," spoke the familiar voice of her friendly handler. "How's your assignment going?"

"It's…good," she smiled. "Of course, this assignment wasn't exactly part of the original plan, remember?"

"Ah, that's okay. You're flexible," he teased back. "Listen. I suppose you heard your father was over there yesterday."

"Mm-hmm. He came to visit me after his assignment. But he didn't tell me what it was."

She could practically hear him nod. "Well, Sloane sent him to find a vial of fluid designed by Rambaldi, that was believed to be stored in a basement of an old cathedral, but it wasn't there. However, the agency's received some new Intel that Michel Vaughn once owned it."

"Really?" she looked to Vaughn beside her who was watching her have her conversation between glances at the city below as the wheel continued to turn. "Do you want me to ask him about it?"

"Yeah. When you get a chance. He might know what he did with it."

"Hang on," she told Woods and then turned to Vaughn with the phone pressed to her stomach. "Vau—Michael," she corrected herself. "Did you have a vial of Rambaldi's?"

He furrowed his brow and then answered, "A little bottle of liquid? Yes. I still do."

"You do?" He nodded and Sydney put the phone to her ear again. "He still had it before he came back with me—us," she covered.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Woods seemed confused. "I didn't know you were with him right now."

Sydney rushed to explain, "Oh, we're sightseeing. We're actually on 'The Big Wheel' at the moment."

"Oh," he said suspiciously. "Okay. Well, um, does he have any idea what he might've done with it?"

She repeated the question to Vaughn and he shook his head. "I wouldn't have gotten rid of it."

"Could you have hidden it somewhere?"

"Maybe," he shook his head as their car came to a stop and they were allowed to get off.

Sydney told Woods to hold on a moment as they got up and walked away from the ride, and then returned to her conversation with her handler. "He's not sure, but if he thinks of anything, I'll call you."

"Thanks, Sydney," Woods told her, and then hung up.

She sighed and looked back at Vaughn with a smile as she pocketed her phone again. "Wanna walk some more?"

"No," he shook his head unenthusiastically. "Is it alright if we just go back to the hotel?"

"Sure. Are you okay?" she touched his arm in worry.

He answered by lifting her hand up off of his arm and kissing the back of it and then smiled. "I'm fine. I'm just tired."

She smiled a genuine smile and then led him by hand to where they could get a cab to go back.

Once they reached their hotel room again, Sydney suggested that Vaughn take a nap, and she would order dinner later and wake him up when it arrived. He agreed and within ten minutes of laying his head to the pillow, he was asleep.

She spent the time quietly watching some TV, and then deciding what to eat for dinner and ordering it, she took a bath, not allowing herself to fall asleep this time.

She was out again by the time the food arrived, now comfortably dressed for bed. Vaughn was still asleep, so she picked up his plate, set it on the nightstand, and sat down beside him, gently stroking his face to wake him. "Michael," she whispered, absolutely loving the way his name felt on her tongue. Stroking his cheek again, he turned his face into her palm, and she tilted her head parallel with his and smiled when he took a deep breath and sighed.

"Syd…" he mumbled sleepily, and her heart jumped with the familiarity of her nickname on his lips.

He blinked a couple of times, but his eyelids were still heavy, so she leaned over to kiss his forehead and whispered, "Dinner's here."

"Mmm…" Reaching first one arm around to her back and then the other, he pulled her down until she was lying in his arms again, and she felt him breathing in her hair.

"Michael," she whispered again, thoroughly enjoying the moment. His hand slipped under her hair to her neck and stopped, so she repeated, "Michael? Are you awake?"

She wasn't sure when he didn't move or answer, so she lightly pushed on his chest to look at his face. He was trying to stifle a grin as he looked at her through the tiny openings of his nearly closed eyes, and Sydney smirked. "Hey, don't you want to eat?"

He blinked another time and answered honestly, "Not now," tightening his arms around her again.

Resting her head back into the crook of his neck, Sydney sighed in content, and looked out at the lights illuminating the outline of the Eiffel Tower. "Did you have fun today?" she asked to keep him awake, but quietly enough to keep from breaking the comfortable mood.

"Yes."

"What was your favorite part?"

"Hmm…" she could tell he was seriously thinking about it. "Seeing my house again."

"Do you miss it?"

"Mm-hmm. It's the only home I've ever known. I was born there."

Sydney could see his arrival into the world in her mind, and even pictured the happy faces of his parents. Then, as if it were a movie, she could see what his life might've been like, from an infant to a happy toddler to a playful child, and her mind stopped, lingering on how it really was for him then. "What was your childhood like?"

He shrugged his free shoulder. "Like any others, I suppose. I was a quite mischievous and caused my mother a lot of grief. I'm amazed she continues to choose to live with me," he chuckled at his own joke.

Sydney smiled, "What's the worst thing you did to her?"

"Oh…" he blew out a puff of air. "I used to hide things from her—her favorite things. Her silver, her jewelry—once I even took my father's watch that she used to keep in her armoire, and put it--" he stopped abruptly for a moment, so Sydney leaned up slightly to look at him.

"What's the matter?"

"The vial," he thought out loud. "I had a hiding place in the wall that no one would know about but me. That's probably where I hid the vial."

"You think so?" Sydney asked hopefully.

Vaughn nodded. "I wouldn't have gotten rid of it, or sold it, and it's a likely place for me to have hidden it."

"We could go tomorrow and see if we can find it," she told him.

"Really?" he asked curiously. "That wouldn't be a problem because of the time…?"

"You mean, you think it might ruin the space-time continuum?" She thought about that for a moment. "I don't see how it could. As long as we keep you safe."

"Hmm," he grunted, "Okay." He ran his fingertips down the back of her arm, essentially tickling her.

Sydney tried not to flinch or pull away, and said instead, "We should eat before it gets cold."

"I'm not really hungry."

His arms tightened around her and she could tell that he was content to stay exactly in that place. But for how long? she wondered. "Michael," she said softly, her voice laced with regret. "I want to say something…just so that one of us is saying it, okay?" There was so much that she wanted to say, and so much that he should hear, but there wasn't time.

It seemed unfair that time was such a plague on her life. There were years lost to her relationship with her father because of her mother's death; there was time spent at work when she should have been spending it with her friends; there were decades lost to Danny because of her lies followed by the truth he should have known from the beginning. And now Vaughn: a man out of his time, and the one she was quickly falling for, knowing there was only six more days left with him before he would go back to his life, and she would have to go back to hers.

Vaughn didn't answer, waiting for her to speak, so Sydney just forged ahead. "I-I like you…a lot. And I wish we were from the same century," she said dryly, despite the tears building in her eyes, and the lump forming in her throat. "But since we--" she paused, completely unable to say only one of the reasons that they couldn't be a couple, and then she swallowed to be able to continue. "I just want to enjoy you…us…being together while we can, okay?"

"As friends," he assumed and Sydney nodded slightly into his chest, moving her hand to her face to wipe away a stray tear.

"It would be too hard to say goodbye if we tried…anything more…" she didn't bother finishing the statement, knowing Vaughn would understand.

There was a long, comfortable moment of silence as they listened to each other breathe, trying not to listen to the almost audible sounds of their hearts breaking. "Why don't we eat now?" he suggested, and Sydney physically relaxed with relief that he understood what she'd been trying to say. So the two then sat up and leaned up against the headboard to eat in bed, planning the final days ahead to make the best of them.