***

Five minutes have come and gone and he still isn't here. Maybe he told Devlin. Maybe he decided that there was no way he could help me and called on someone else to do the job. Maybe SD-6 caught him on his way here and now they're busy trying to get information from him.

Ding-dong. Maybe he's right here.

"Hey," I greet as I open the door to let him in. "What took you so long?"

"Traffic."

Right. Traffic. Why didn't I think of that?

"Vaughn, before you say anything, I just want to say that I didn't mean to tell him. I…I was just so tired of lying to him all the time and before I knew what happened, it was out and he knew. And then he became weird. Like he started babbling and Will doesn't babble unless it's serious."

"Ok."

That's all he has to say about this? I might have just ruined all our lives and he's saying, "ok"?

"That's all?" I ask, unable to stop the disappointment from sounding in my voice.

"Syd, what do you expect me to say? You want me to tell you that it isn't the smartest of moves to tell a civilian that you're a double agent---"

"I didn't tell him I'm a double agent and he's not just a civilian. He's one of my best friends," I say, feeling my anger rise up.

"You think SD-6 is going to care if he's your friend or not? You think the CIA lets it go when you tell people you know that you don't exactly work at the cheese factory? No, Syd, they don't give a damn who he is if he knows."

"I know. Maybe better than you do," I say. "He's in the den."

He follows me into the den. I realize then that it's the first time he's ever been in my house. Too bad it couldn't have been under better circumstances.

"Will, this is---"

He was gone. I leave the guy alone for one moment to gain composure and he bails. Perfect.

"Great," he mutters from behind me. "Explain to me how Regular Joe can get away from kick ass Sydney Bristow?"

I'd smile at the compliment if I weren't so busy wondering where he went.

"He probably went home," I suggest. "Maybe we should let him think about it. Put everything into perspective."

"We have to find him. If he tells---"

"Let's go," I say before he can finish his sentence. "I don't want to face any 'ifs'."

***

It's quite uncomfortable driving in a car with a CIA agent when you've infringed CIA rules. There's only one thing on both of our minds at this very moment: finding Will. All we needed was a little animosity and it would be like the father-daughter bonding activities I have with Dad.

"What if we can't find him, Vaughn? What if he's not home?" I ask, breaking the silence.

"Let's hope he is," he answers calmly.

He'd probably do really well on those fancy lie-detector tests that he trained me for. Michael Vaughn aces test. The prize for his troubles: his life.

"Would you mind if we stopped by one place really quickly?" he asks, breaking through my thoughts.

"Not at all."

"I just have to drop something off," he explains.

"No problem."

I turn to glance at him and take in that he's not in a suit. A hooded Kings sweatshirt and jeans.

"Was it your night off?"

I'm afraid, he'll say, "Why yes, Sydney it was. My one and only night off, ruined because of your stupidity."

"It's no big deal," he says. He gives me a little smile before turning his attention back to the road.

"I didn't mean to take your night off away from you."

"I've got other nights off."

No, he doesn't---none this week anyway.

"Sorry," I say again.

"Don't worry about it."

We stop in front of this brick-house-resembling-apartment place.

"I'll be right back," he says before running out into the pelting, heavy rain.

He knocks on the door and waits in the freezing cold for someone to open it. Weiss opens it a couple of seconds later and he hands him a piece of paper.

"Tickets," I say out loud to no one in particular.

The Kings are playing tonight and he had tickets to the game. Tickets that he has given because of me. Now I feel really bad.

"You had tickets to the game?" I ask when he comes back in.

"Yeah, but it's no loss when you already know what's going to happen."

"You're psychic too?"

"They'll win. Everyone knows it."

"You speak the words of a true fan," I say with a smile.

Before he can respond, my cell phone rings. It's Francie.

"Hey Francie."

"Syd, where are you? It's crazy outside," she says.

I can just picture her pulling the shades aside a little and looking out our rain-smeared window. I probably should've left a note or something.

CIA calls. Out to find Will before he opens his mouth and gets killed. I'll grab something to eat while I'm running from SD-6. Don't stay up. -Sydney

"Some stuff with the bank came up. I might not get home till really late---or early---whichever way you want to look at it."

"As long as your safe."

As safe as being in a car during a storm is…

"Yeah, I'm good. I'll see you later."

I disconnect with a sigh. I want to be at home, sitting on our warm, dry couch. I want to be pigging out on popcorn and beer while Francie and I watch Sleepless in Seattle.

"You ok?" Vaughn asks.

"Yeah, just thinking about the cold that rain brings."

He turns the heater up to a higher level.

"Better?" he ask.

"Much," I say.

He smiles at me and I feel a tingle go through my body.

No, not tingly. Friends don't feel tingly about friends. Tingly is a big, fat 'no'. The cold air is making me cold. That's it. That's all.

"Syd, I think we're here," he says and suddenly I feel my body temperature lower.

"I hope he's here."

For all our sakes, he better be here.