This is the requested sequel to Easy as Life…sorry it took so long to get
out!! But here it is…hope you like it! Please tell me what you think!
A/N: This one's going to be longer than the first, so I'm not going to post it all at once – I have to finish it first! : ) But it will come along quickly, I think, so you won't have to wait long for another chapter.
1 Never Forget
God, she needed a shower. Needed to feel the hot water cascade over her, washing away memories as it washed away the sweat. Today had been especially difficult. She had returned from a hard mission in Egypt, only to be called to Credit Dauphine by Sloane. There, he had informed her that she was to leave tomorrow at dawn for Russia, in order to retrieve a Rambaldi artifact that had just been discovered. The CIA hadn't been too understanding, either. She had screwed up the counter mission in Egypt, and as her new handler, Agent Johnson, had made perfectly clear, they weren't too pleased. He had given her her new counter mission in his odd, abrupt manner, and coldly told her not to mess up this time. She had left blinking back tears – she refused to cry in front of this empty shell of a man. The only time she ever let herself cry anymore was when she was in the shower, where the scalding streams of water could drown her sobs and the sounds they made. She took a lot of showers these days.
Sweat trickled down her temple as she pulled into her driveway. The sight of her home almost made her break down, but she bit her cheek quickly and shook her head. Inside, she made herself unpack and put on a load of laundry for tomorrow before she let herself take a shower. She stepped in quickly, holding her face up to the shower head. Slowly, as the dirt and sweat accumulated in Egypt was washed away, she began to break down. Hot tears mingled with the water on her cheeks as she attempted to wash herself. Finally, she stopped her futile efforts, leaned against the wall, and sobbed. Long ago, she wouldn't have had to do this – she would have had someone who understood. Walking away from Vaughn was the hardest thing she had ever done in her life, and she thought about it every day, constantly remembering the way he looked when she last saw him, the last time he touched her.
Out in the apartment, she heard the door open. Francie was home – she would have to suck it up again and put on the façade that was harder and harder to maintain. She gulped back her tears, finished washing, and dressed herself. She went into the kitchen to find Francie making a late dinner.
"Hey, Francie!" she said with false cheer. Francie looked up, a smiling lighting up her face.
"Hey hon!" she replied, walking over to give Sydney a hug. "How was your trip to Boston?"
"It was okay," Sydney answered, picking up an apple and biting into it. "But I actually have to go back tomorrow – something they thought was finished has to be worked on more."
"Oh, no, Sydney. I swear, that bank's going to be the death of you someday! You really need to learn how to say no every once and awhile." Sydney shrugged, smiling ruefully.
"I guess," she said, sitting down to watch Francie finish making dinner. She wanted to help, but her legs wouldn't hold her up long enough to do anything useful. She was lost in her thoughts when the phone rang. Absently, she picked it up.
"Chinatown Delivery?" a male voice asked. Sydney woke out of her reverie, body tense.
"I'm sorry, you have the wrong number." She was answered by a dial tone.
"Who was that, Joey's Pizza or Chinatown? I swear, it was bad enough with one, but now there's a second. We really need to change our phone number," France rambled from the kitchen. Sydney didn't respond; she was still trying to figure out the CIA's reason for calling when they had already given her her counter mission. The code was Chinatown Delivery now – she wouldn't let them use Joey's Pizza anymore. In her mind, it was connected with seeing Vaughn, and hearing it was too hard to handle. She sighed, shook her head, and stood up slowly.
"Uh, Francie?" she called. "I'm going to go pick up something for my trip tomorrow…I'll be back in time to eat, okay?"
"Sure thing, hon," Francie answered. Sydney left reluctantly and headed to the warehouse.
She hated the warehouse now. It held too many painful memories of a life and a man she could never have. Every time she went there, she heard his voice in her head, felt his arms around her body. The contrast between Vaughn and Agent Johnson was remarkable – but so was the contrast between her work then and her work now. She had thrown herself into it after she stopped working with Vaughn – it was the only thing that kept her mind off him. Two long years had passed since she had last seen him, and she was giving up hope of ever seeing him again. Sloane was very pleased with her, though, and so was the CIA, even though every once and awhile she screwed up a counter mission. While she could care less about what either of them thought, she prayed that every mission helped her to get closer to destroying SD-6. Which, of course, got her closer to seeing Vaughn again.
She blinked and realized that she was at the warehouse. She climbed out of the car and entered the building, listening to her footsteps echo in the empty space. She turned a corner and went through the door of their meeting room. Stopping at the door, she leaned her head against the doorframe, kept her eyes on the floor, not caring enough to look at the man she was talking to.
"Agent Johnson, I fail to see why you felt the need to meet me again. I realize that I failed in Egypt, but I won't fail in Russia. You don't need to go over anything again. I only have one night to be home, and I kinda wanted to spend it at my house." When she didn't get an answer, she continued. "You have no faith in me, do you? Maybe I should have stayed with Vaughn – at least he believed in me. At least he cared!" Her voice rose slightly, "I'm perfectly capable –" She looked up, and her voice caught as she took in the scene before her. Agent Johnson was seated next to the table, doing paperwork, and standing next to him was a man with his back facing Sydney.
"Agent Johnson?" she asked uncertainly. He didn't look up from his work, and she shifted her eyes to the man next to him. Looking him over, she couldn't get over the fact that he seemed oddly familiar. Suddenly, a breath of air wafted past her, carrying a very familiar scent. She took a step forward, and paused, watching anxiously as the man turned around to face her. She gasped.
"Hello, Sydney," Vaughn said quietly.
There ya go…I'm hoping the ending will make you all review so that I'll update sooner! : ) Evil I know…but please, please review!! I love criticism, praise, I thrive on it! Please tell me what you thought!
A/N: This one's going to be longer than the first, so I'm not going to post it all at once – I have to finish it first! : ) But it will come along quickly, I think, so you won't have to wait long for another chapter.
1 Never Forget
God, she needed a shower. Needed to feel the hot water cascade over her, washing away memories as it washed away the sweat. Today had been especially difficult. She had returned from a hard mission in Egypt, only to be called to Credit Dauphine by Sloane. There, he had informed her that she was to leave tomorrow at dawn for Russia, in order to retrieve a Rambaldi artifact that had just been discovered. The CIA hadn't been too understanding, either. She had screwed up the counter mission in Egypt, and as her new handler, Agent Johnson, had made perfectly clear, they weren't too pleased. He had given her her new counter mission in his odd, abrupt manner, and coldly told her not to mess up this time. She had left blinking back tears – she refused to cry in front of this empty shell of a man. The only time she ever let herself cry anymore was when she was in the shower, where the scalding streams of water could drown her sobs and the sounds they made. She took a lot of showers these days.
Sweat trickled down her temple as she pulled into her driveway. The sight of her home almost made her break down, but she bit her cheek quickly and shook her head. Inside, she made herself unpack and put on a load of laundry for tomorrow before she let herself take a shower. She stepped in quickly, holding her face up to the shower head. Slowly, as the dirt and sweat accumulated in Egypt was washed away, she began to break down. Hot tears mingled with the water on her cheeks as she attempted to wash herself. Finally, she stopped her futile efforts, leaned against the wall, and sobbed. Long ago, she wouldn't have had to do this – she would have had someone who understood. Walking away from Vaughn was the hardest thing she had ever done in her life, and she thought about it every day, constantly remembering the way he looked when she last saw him, the last time he touched her.
Out in the apartment, she heard the door open. Francie was home – she would have to suck it up again and put on the façade that was harder and harder to maintain. She gulped back her tears, finished washing, and dressed herself. She went into the kitchen to find Francie making a late dinner.
"Hey, Francie!" she said with false cheer. Francie looked up, a smiling lighting up her face.
"Hey hon!" she replied, walking over to give Sydney a hug. "How was your trip to Boston?"
"It was okay," Sydney answered, picking up an apple and biting into it. "But I actually have to go back tomorrow – something they thought was finished has to be worked on more."
"Oh, no, Sydney. I swear, that bank's going to be the death of you someday! You really need to learn how to say no every once and awhile." Sydney shrugged, smiling ruefully.
"I guess," she said, sitting down to watch Francie finish making dinner. She wanted to help, but her legs wouldn't hold her up long enough to do anything useful. She was lost in her thoughts when the phone rang. Absently, she picked it up.
"Chinatown Delivery?" a male voice asked. Sydney woke out of her reverie, body tense.
"I'm sorry, you have the wrong number." She was answered by a dial tone.
"Who was that, Joey's Pizza or Chinatown? I swear, it was bad enough with one, but now there's a second. We really need to change our phone number," France rambled from the kitchen. Sydney didn't respond; she was still trying to figure out the CIA's reason for calling when they had already given her her counter mission. The code was Chinatown Delivery now – she wouldn't let them use Joey's Pizza anymore. In her mind, it was connected with seeing Vaughn, and hearing it was too hard to handle. She sighed, shook her head, and stood up slowly.
"Uh, Francie?" she called. "I'm going to go pick up something for my trip tomorrow…I'll be back in time to eat, okay?"
"Sure thing, hon," Francie answered. Sydney left reluctantly and headed to the warehouse.
She hated the warehouse now. It held too many painful memories of a life and a man she could never have. Every time she went there, she heard his voice in her head, felt his arms around her body. The contrast between Vaughn and Agent Johnson was remarkable – but so was the contrast between her work then and her work now. She had thrown herself into it after she stopped working with Vaughn – it was the only thing that kept her mind off him. Two long years had passed since she had last seen him, and she was giving up hope of ever seeing him again. Sloane was very pleased with her, though, and so was the CIA, even though every once and awhile she screwed up a counter mission. While she could care less about what either of them thought, she prayed that every mission helped her to get closer to destroying SD-6. Which, of course, got her closer to seeing Vaughn again.
She blinked and realized that she was at the warehouse. She climbed out of the car and entered the building, listening to her footsteps echo in the empty space. She turned a corner and went through the door of their meeting room. Stopping at the door, she leaned her head against the doorframe, kept her eyes on the floor, not caring enough to look at the man she was talking to.
"Agent Johnson, I fail to see why you felt the need to meet me again. I realize that I failed in Egypt, but I won't fail in Russia. You don't need to go over anything again. I only have one night to be home, and I kinda wanted to spend it at my house." When she didn't get an answer, she continued. "You have no faith in me, do you? Maybe I should have stayed with Vaughn – at least he believed in me. At least he cared!" Her voice rose slightly, "I'm perfectly capable –" She looked up, and her voice caught as she took in the scene before her. Agent Johnson was seated next to the table, doing paperwork, and standing next to him was a man with his back facing Sydney.
"Agent Johnson?" she asked uncertainly. He didn't look up from his work, and she shifted her eyes to the man next to him. Looking him over, she couldn't get over the fact that he seemed oddly familiar. Suddenly, a breath of air wafted past her, carrying a very familiar scent. She took a step forward, and paused, watching anxiously as the man turned around to face her. She gasped.
"Hello, Sydney," Vaughn said quietly.
There ya go…I'm hoping the ending will make you all review so that I'll update sooner! : ) Evil I know…but please, please review!! I love criticism, praise, I thrive on it! Please tell me what you thought!