Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me.

Summary: Sydney has plans for Valentine's Day with Vaughn. Hopefully, some humor and romance.

Review if you like.  Be kind…my first fanfic ever…

Los Angeles

Sydney and Francie were doing a typical best-girlfriend thing on a sunny winter day.  They were out shopping for Francie's trousseau and they happened to drop in to a very exclusive store that sold the most spectacular cocktail dresses.  Francie didn't know where Charlie was planning to take her on their honeymoon (he had insisted on making all the arrangements), but she figured she would need at least one new evening outfit.

While Francie was in the dressing room, Sydney browsed through a rack of dresses.  She wasn't really looking for anything special as she wasn't exactly Miss Party Girl these days, but it was something to do to pass the time.

That's when she saw it.  A wispy little red slipdress that looked as if it had been made just for her. The fabric felt like silk against her fingers and the color was a very becoming scarlet.  Nothing like her "Bozo" hair as Vaughn liked to call it.  Why had he suddenly popped into her head? She wondered. Then she let herself think about if Vaughn ever saw her in this dress.

"Oh, Syd, that is adorable!" Francie suddenly appeared over her shoulder.  "You have to buy it!"

"You think?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Definitely." Francie said firmly. "It would look fabulous on you and besides, it's on sale for Valentine's Day. How can you go wrong?"

"Valentine's Day…" Sydney murmured, suddenly remembering that the holiday was in the not-too-far-distant future.  Should she get something for Vaughn?  Or would it seem too forward of her? After all, they weren't a couple nor had there ever been even a hint of a romantic encounter between them.

Still, she felt that she had to do something.  She knew there were feelings between them. So why not push the envelope to see where they might lead?

That brought up another dilemma.  What kind of gift would she give to him? With a start, she realized she knew virtually nothing about the man. She knew he'd recently broken up with a girlfriend, she knew where he worked and that his father had been a CIA agent killed when he was eight years old.

But what did he do when he wasn't working? Did he jog or play the guitar or paint? Did he like biographies or mysteries or science fiction? God, she didn't even know how he took his coffee or his favorite food.

With a determined look on her face, Sydney marched up to the cash register with the red dress in hand.  There was some serious interrogation to be done and she was just the woman to do it.

That evening she'd gone to the warehouse about half an hour before their scheduled meeting time, looking like your typical student, dressed in sweats and a tank top, a backpack on her back.  She slipped into the warehouse unnoticed by the cover of darkness and walked noiselessly along the concrete floors to her destination. Their place, she thought wryly. Some couples have a favorite restaurant; others had a favorite nightclub.  Her favorite rendezvous spot was a cold, dimly lit warehouse stacked so high with wooden crates that she didn't even want to think about what they held. The ambience was definitely lacking and she would ditch the crates in favor of a cozy sofa in a heartbeat, but hey, beggars can't be choosers.

Sydney hopped up onto a crate and slipped the backpack from her shoulders.  She unzipped the pocket and took out a notebook and a pen.  She'd already come up with a few questions to ask Vaughn, but she wasn't exactly sure how to slip them into casual conversation. They didn't exactly have casual conversations, which made it doubly difficult.

She supposed she could tell him she was doing a survey for a sociology course. Did he know what she was studying? She couldn't remember if she'd ever told him.

How about telling him the truth? That she wanted to get to him better. Would that freak him out or would it please him?

Once she started her list, she couldn't stop and she was so engrossed in writing down her questions, she didn't hear the footsteps until he was practically in front of her.

"Sydney?"

She started, even though she normally wasn't a jumpy person. She looked up and found Vaughn looking at her in that calming way he had.

"Hello," She closed her notebook and put down her pen.

"You're here early." He observed. Usually, he was always the one waiting for her and it unnerved him a bit to have her already there when he arrived. Now there was no time to compose himself, get the mask in place, so to speak.

"I was just making notes on a paper I have due next week." She explained.

"And the library was closed?" Vaughn raised an eyebrow. She looked adorable in her tank top and sweats, her hair pulled back in a high ponytail and her face devoid of any makeup.  He suddenly had a glimpse of the tomboy she must have been when she was a kid.

"It just seemed easier to come here." Sydney shrugged carelessly.

"Okay," He dropped the subject. "Now about Geneva. The CIA would like you to--"

"Vaughn, what do you eat for breakfast?" She interrupted.

Vaughn was so thrown by her question, he completely lost his train of thought. "Huh, what?"

"What do you eat?" She repeated her question as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Dry toast, cold cereal, bagels with cream cheese…"

"I think I know what a breakfast food is, Sydney." Vaughn cut her off before she started in on all the different types of omelets.

"Good, then you can answer the question." She gazed at him expectantly.

"Why?"

"Why, what?"

"Why should I answer the question?"

"Because what you eat for breakfast tells a lot about a person." She replied in a most serious manner. "I mean, some people eat the same thing everyday, which is sort of boring, don't you think?  I'd hate to be in that sort of a rut, wouldn't you?"

"I…guess so." Either she was losing her mind or he was losing his. "What is this all about, anyway?"

"Are you the type of person who eats the same thing everyday?"

"Are you going to think I'm in a rut if I say yes?"

"Will you quit answering my questions with another question?" She scolded him. "Now is it yes or no?" She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow.

"Yes…no—I mean, I don't." He stammered out, a bit flustered. "I don't even remember what  I'm saying yes or no to, but for your information, I eat whatever's in my house." He finally blurted out. "Can we get back to your mission now?"

"Oh, sure." Sydney said in her most blasé fashion.

Sydney was leaving for Switzerland in the morning.  BG Laboratories, one of the world's leading research facilities in biotechnology, had recently developed a method of cloning animals and then speeding up the process of aging them to adulthood. Sloane had received intel that K-Directorate was in the market to "acquire" the top secret plans in order to try a little human experimentation and their aim was to do so during a press conference the lab was holding two days from now to announce their great discovery to the world.  Sydney's mission was to get there first.

"Sloane only wants me to download the lab's computer files. He doesn't really plan to do anything with the them because I think that sort of thing unnerves him, but he just doesn't want K-Directorate to get their hands on the plans."

"But the lab's computer only contains half of the formula. Their security system is set up so that the other half of the formula is on the director's personal computer at home." Vaughn told her.

"Rather risky, don't you think?"

"You should see the security at his house." He replied. "Infrared sensors, security cameras covering every inch of the grounds, attack dogs…"

"Let me guess," Sydney gave him a droll look. "The CIA wants both halves of the formula."

Vaughn gave her a little smile. "Sorry, I don't make the decisions. I just make sure they get carried out."

"And how am I supposed to get into the house with all that security?"

"The Lab's Director, Jakob Lindt, is holding a reception the night before to celebrate his discovery.  We've arranged to have you put on the guest list."

Sydney and Vaughn discussed the logistics of her getting into Lindt's office and downloading his personal files into the CIA's computers. When it appeared he was winding down, she hit him again with one of her questions.

"Vaughn, do you watch old movies?"

He did another double take. "Sure, if it's one I like." He said slowly, unsure where their conversation was headed next.

"What's your favorite?" She threw in. "And it has to be made before…oh, say 1950."

He gave her a strange look. What was with all the questions today? Then he realized she was waiting for his answer. He racked his brain.

"Casablanca." He said the first movie that popped into his mind. It actually was one of his favorites; he wasn't just trying to keep her happy by making up an answer. There must be some sort of method to her madness, so he'd play along until he could figure it out.

"Good choice." Sydney nodded approvingly. "Although I'm partial to Bette Davis movies myself. There's just something about her, you know?"

Vaughn was beginning to think the same thing albeit not about Bette Davis. "Sydney." The way he said her name was a statement rather than a question.

"Yes?" She looked up at him oh-so-innocently.

"What's with the Twenty Questions bit?"

"Oh, you caught on to that, did you?" She grinned, showing off her dimples and melting his insides in the process.  "I thought I was being so discreet."

He struggled to hide a smile. "You'd never make it as a spy, Sydney." He teased her. "You better stick to your day job." Sydney laughed out loud and then his face did break out into a heart-stopping grin.

"Okay, the truth is, I was thinking the other day how much I didn't know about you." She said, feeling awkward.

Vaughn was surprised but pleased by her answer.  It made him feel good to hear that she thought about him in ways other than the context of their jobs. He decided to cut her some slack.

"So that's what all of your out-of-the-blue questions were about?" He said in a gentle voice.

"Yeah," She said, a bit embarrassed.

"Well, okay, then ask whatever you want." He hopped up onto the crate opposite her.

"You don't mind?" Sydney gave him a surprised look. "You don't have to be anywhere?"

Truth was, there was no place on earth he'd rather be than in a dingy warehouse with Sydney, but he played it cool.

"I have some time."

Sydney smiled happily. "Okay, we'll start out with an easy one." She opened her notebook.

"You wrote them down?"

She gave him an impish look. "Once I got started, I realized there was a lot I don't know about you." Sydney gave him a dazzling smile. "Favorite ice cream?"

Vaughn had to grin at the simplicity of her question.  She could have asked him his philosophy of life or where he planned to be in five years, but instead she got down to what was most important in life.

"Rocky road."

"Hmmm, I wouldn't have pegged you as a marshmallow lover." She commented absently. "Favorite color?"

"Blue."

"Favorite food?"

"Italian." He couldn't believe she was taking notes.

"Favorite kind of music?"

"I can't say I have a favorite. I like classical, jazz." He replied and then wondered if that made him sound like a nerd. "I like the Stones, too. Mostly their older stuff." He added quickly.

"Interesting combination." She observed. "Favorite sexual position?" She asked with a completely straight face.

"What?!?" He choked out.

Sydney shot him an amused look. "That was a joke, Vaughn." She laughed. "We were just on such a roll with the questions that I thought I'd throw that one in to shock you."

So she was playing with him, huh? Vaughn thought to himself. He wondered what she'd say if he turned the tables on her.

"You know, I don't mind answering the question." He said in a husky voice, looking sideways at her.

Her head jerked up from the page she was reading and she met his gaze, a flirtatious glint in his eyes. The mood in the room suddenly turned electric.

"Why, Agent Vaughn, if I didn't know it was against company policy, I'd think you were flirting with me." Sydney said coyly.

"Actually, I don't think it says anything about that in the CIA handbook." He bantered back.

"Well, I'll have to check my copy and get back to you on that." Sydney felt her face grow warm and looked down at her notebook.

"If you say so, Syd." He said blithely, delighting in the fact that he hadn't turned into a blithering idiot under Sydney's scrutiny.

There were a few moments of silence. Vaughn was the first to break it.

"Next question, Sydney?" He said in a gentle manner.

"Um, yeah," She cleared her throat. "Did you have a pet when you were a kid?"

"Yeah, I had a dog." He replied. "My mother got him for me a few months after my dad died. I guess she figured it would…help me. You know, being responsible for an animal would give me something to take care of, so that I wouldn't keep thinking about my dad."

Sydney nodded, the topic of their parents always a touchy subject between them. "What was his name?"

"Bear." Vaughn replied, a little smile on his face as he thought of his beloved pet. "He was a golden retriever puppy and he had these huge paws. He reminded me of a bear cub."

She smiled. "He must have been adorable." In her mind, she was picturing a laughing little boy with a faithful canine companion running after him. "Do you play sports?"

"I played soccer and hockey and baseball when I was a kid." Vaughn answered. "You already know I like the Kings and I try to catch a few baseball games every summer."

"Who's your favorite team?"

"Only the best team in baseball." He said boastfully. "The Mets, of course."

"Oh, please," She scoffed, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly.

"What?" He wrinkled a brow at her, even though he knew why she wasn't exactly impressed. "They went to the World Series two years ago." He said defensively.

"Yeah, but they didn't win."

Vaughn opened his mouth to argue, but abruptly closed it. What he could he say? She was right. "Please don't tell me you're a Yankee fan."

"Would you hold it against me if I said yes?" Her eyes twinkled mischievously.

"Oh, man!" He groaned. "It would change the way I felt about you forever." He said without thinking and then flushed when he realized how that sounded.  Luckily, the shadowy warehouse hid the color in his face.

"Well, don't worry because I'm not."  She scribbled in her notebook.

Vaughn waited a few beats for her to continue, but when she didn't, he became a little suspicious.

"So who is your favorite team?"

"Mine?" She hedged.

"You are the only other person in the room." He pointed out unnecessarily.

Sydney's nose wrinkled and then she threw her face into her hands. "Oh, don't make me say it!" Her voice was muffled. "If you know, then I'll never be able to hold the Mets over your head ever again!"

He suppressed a grin. "Now you have to tell me."

She sighed. "All right, the only thing I will say is that I'm a hometown girl."

His eyes widened. "You mean…"

"Yes, yes, don't say it!" She cut him off. "It's embarrassing how far they've fallen."

Vaughn brought his hand to his mouth to stifle his chuckle at her antics. "That Piazza trade was the worst." He choked out.

"Oh, my God, don't remind me of that!" Sydney sputtered. "That's the reason why I haven't been to a game in 5 years!"

Vaughn could no longer hold in his laughter. He gave a roar and a snort and when Sydney looked at him, she couldn't help but join in.

"Did we just spend 5 minutes talking about something as mundane as baseball?" Vaughn asked later as he wiped his eyes.

"Just like two normal people."

"Who are anything but." He finished soberly.