Chapter 9: Nothing To Tell

Disclaimer: I don't own Alias. Sigh…

A/N: This will all come together in the next few chapters, just bear with me a little longer…
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By Saturday, two other agents had been sent during the week to relieve Michael for short spells. Sydney had an uncomfortable feeling the first time that he had been to see an unhappy Jack Bristow, because when he returned he gave Sydney a look fit to kill. She wasn't sure later that she hadn't imagined the look, because he never mentioned it to her and he never acted angry other than that once. It occurred to her that he seemed to be guarding his expression carefully.

Lorrie's father had, predictably, been furious when Lorrie refused to tell him where she'd been. She must have been convincing, because he was sure that she'd been up to no good. He forbade her to leave the house after school, specifically to see people he didn't know. She had screamed, fully matching Taylor Miller's considerable temper, "You can't do anything about it if I want to leave the house and you're not here to stop me!"

Sydney was surprised when Lorrie told her during lunch one day shortly after that incident that she thought Michael Vaughn was really trying to help.

"What makes you say that?" Sydney asked, hoping to sound conversational.

"He looked really worried the other night when he asked if my dad might hit me. I think if I'd told him he would, he would have taken me over there himself to make sure I didn't get hurt or something." Lorrie shrugged as though the conversation were normal, every day, student-teacher lunchroom conversation.

"Really?" Sydney was surprised that, in spite of what they'd discovered, Lorrie had still managed to make observations like that. "I wonder if he has kids? He can't have any living with him alone, and I can't really picture our Mr. Vaughn married."

"I don't think he does," Lorrie said thoughtfully. "He might have mentioned not being married."

"When did he tell you that?" Sydney asked, looking at her in surprise.

"He didn't, not really. I think he just made a comment that made me think he wasn't married, I can't remember now. So I don't think he has kids."

"Oh." Sydney let it drop and instead sat there wondering why she should be so curious about this man.

That particular Saturday, Danny had been asked to word his usual weekday hours in the ER, as they were shorthanded. Knowing Sydney was uncomfortable staying there with the "CIA guy," as he still referred to him, Danny offered to stay home, but Sydney urged him to go ahead and work.

"I'm a big girl, Danny," she joked. "I can be around someone I don't like without starting a fight."

So Sydney found herself creating tasks to keep her and Jaime away from Michael Vaughn. She put Jaime in his crib with some toys and cleaned his nursery unmercifully. Then she took him into the den and put him in his playpen while she thoroughly cleaned that room, something she hadn't done since Jaime was born. All through this, Michael stayed conveniently holed up in the kitchen under the pretense of making important phone calls. As soon as Sydney sat Jaime in his high chair to fix his lunch, Michael migrated to the den. At that point, Sydney had become suspicious that he was avoiding her as avidly as she was avoiding him. As soon as that thought entered her head, she forgot about avoiding him and had the sudden urge to talk to him, find out what he was all about. Even as she told herself how unreasonable she was being, cornering a guy she didn't want to be near, she was making two sandwiches and putting them on plates to take into the den. She fed Jaime as quickly as he would allow, then somehow juggled Jaime and the two plates until she reached the den, where she let Jaime down.

Michael didn't even look up when she entered the room, just rose to leave. So much for coincidence, she thought with a grin.

"Where are you going? I brought you lunch," she said innocently, as though she'd be hurt if he didn't eat it.

"I…don't want to be in your way," he replied, still not looking at her. "I'm here to work. You don't need to entertain me."

"I'm not," she said shrugging. She weaved around furniture until she blocked his exit and stood facing him in front of the couch. "I just thought that since you've been here alone all week you might like some company."

Knowing he couldn't politely refuse her offer, and knowing she knew it too, Michael sat back down. Sydney sat of the other end of the couch and handed him a plate, sitting just far enough away that she wasn't too close, but he couldn't get between her and the table in front of them, either. She watched him carefully from the corner of her eye, noted him doing the same, and fished for a conversation topic.

"What made you want to join the CIA?" she asked curiously, deciding that had to be a safe enough topic. It surprised her when he visibly flinched.

"My father was an agent," he choked out gruffly.

Sydney nodded, trying not to show she'd noticed his reaction.

"Must have been tough. I guess none of the agents tell their kids what they do?" she asked, feeling guilty about keeping up with the obviously painful conversation.

"I was an adult before my mother told me the truth about my father's…" He stopped abruptly.

Sydney's eyes grew wide, and her voice reflected her genuine sympathy. "He wasn't…killed…was he?" she asked, horrified that she'd started this conversation.

Michael's lips stretched into a pale thin line, his eyes narrowed into slits, his hands clenched the ceramic plate so hard he was afraid he'd break it.

"I…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…to pry," Sydney stuttered, having taken note of his reaction.

"It's fine," he forced out from between clenched teeth, closing his eyes tightly to block the dizzying anger sweeping through him. Then he opened them to glare at her. "You didn't know," he said, but his eyes said different.

Sydney dropped her eyes, feeling horrible.

"I really am sorry," she mumbled again, studying her hands.

Michael glanced at her and instantly knew it was a mistake; he saw emotions reflected in her brown eyes that he's have been better off thinking her incapable of. What he saw scared him. Tears had formed in her eyes, and he saw the genuine compassion, and the regret that she'd asked him about his father, and…guilt? Did she feel guilty about what had just occurred? It wasn't her fault…

"I'm sorry," she said again quietly.

Michael sighed and tried to relax.

"It's fine," he said again, more gently. "I shouldn't let it all get to me again," he continued, knowing he was going to tell her things her shouldn't. "It's not your fault." He was getting too comfortable. "It's not you. It's your m-" Damn, he though, clamping his mouth shut.

"My…what?" Sydney said, looking at him in confusion.

Michael stood abruptly and paced around the room, but he didn't leave like she'd expected. Instead, he can back to stand in front of her.

"Did it ever occur to you to wonder why I took this assignment? I told you this was recruit work, but I'm not a recruit."

Sydney nodded. "I wondered. But I didn't think it was any of my business."

"Neither do I. But if I'm going to be around you, and Lorrie, and act the way I do, you should at least know why."

"Is it the same reason you won't look at me?" Sydney asked quietly.

He looked surprised, then seemed to realize that he should have expected her to notice. He nodded, somewhat guiltily, before he paced around the room again.

"Mrs. Hecht…"

"Sydney," she corrected automatically.

"Sydney…" Michael looked at her a little uncertainly, seriously doubting whether he should tell her. "Your mother…she was the one who killed my father," he said quietly. He turned away to blink back tears he hadn't expected.

Sydney sat in stunned silence for a long time. Only one thought penetrated her consciousness.

"I look like her," she said. "That's why you've hated me from the moment you walked through my door. Lorrie looks like her too, but she's still just a little girl."

"I don't hate you," Michael defended softly, keeping his back to her. "I don't even know you."

"You hate that I look like her. Why did you take this job?" she asked before he could object.

"Because, if that woman shows up I want to be the one to take her in or take her down," he said gruffly, his voice so full of passion that it was scary.

Sydney could only stand up and stop Jaime from pulling an entire stack of books down on his head, Michael watching her carefully the whole time.

"You said Derevko seemed like the perfect mother?" he asked at last.

Sydney looked at him curiously before she answered. "Yes," she said defensively. She did everything a mother should do, and she always seemed genuinely happy."

"You were six years old."

"Exactly."

"I can't see her that way. I hate to think of her as a good mother, because then it seems wrong to think of her as a murderer," Michael said as they both returned to the couch with amazing calm.

"I hate to think of her as a murderer," Sydney said softly, holding Jaime on her lap and hugging him. "Because then it seems wrong to think of her as a mother. As my mother. Especially now," she added.

They sat in an uncomfortable silence, both thinking it was at the very least, safer than conversation. Probably even more comfortable. But Sydney couldn't leave it alone. She'd come to talk to Agent Michael Vaughn, and she did not intended to pass up this opportunity.

"Tell me about yourself," Sydney said companionably. "You can see for yourself what my life is like. Tell me about yours."

"Nothing to tell," he said shortly. "I'm not married, no kids, no dog, only relative I know of is my mother. I spend a lot of time working. My job is pretty much 24/7," he concluded. "As you can see."

"You're an only child?"

"Yes."

"So am I. Well…until now," she said, grinning weakly. "Did you ever wish when you were a kid that you had siblings?"

He shrugged. "Actually, no. I saw how annoying siblings were when I was a kid. I was in high school before I ever wished I had a brother."

"Growing up, I always saw kids my age with little brothers and sisters…" She did some quick math. "I'd have loved to have a baby sister when I was fourteen," she concluded.

"It must be strange to find out you have a sister after all," he said, appearing much more relaxed now that they were talking about her life.

"It's even stranger to realize her father doesn't want her to see me, but he doesn't know I exist, let alone that I'm her teacher, and that my father knows all about it but hasn't so much as called me since we talked last week and I said something that sent him over the top, but I have no clue what," she babbled, thoroughly irritated with her father.

For the first time since Sydney had met him, Michael cracked a genuinely amused grin. He was laughing at her! She stared at him for a moment, trying, wanting to be furious, but then she smiled too.

"I sound insane, don't I?" she laughed.

Michael smiled wider. "Only to a normal person. I was able to make sense of most of it. It's a gift," Michael joked.

Sydney smiled and allowed Jaime to wriggle to the floor. She had come looking to find out more about the mysterious man living in her house, and she'd done that. Somehow, she felt confident that in the process she'd made a friend. She'd not only found out why he looked at her so strangely from time to time--something she doubted many people had heard from him--but also gotten to see a lighter, almost playful side of him--something she doubted he'd shown to many people.

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Aw, how sweet…unfortunately I had to unravel that friendship in the next chapter. I'm a S/V shippie all the way, but I don't want Syd cheating on Danny. May be I'm kill Danny off, get him out of the way…