Title: Rainy Days and Mondays Chapter 2

Author: Karin (Bailsgal)

Email: celtic_7@hotmail.com

Feedback: Live for it!

Summary: When Vaughn can't handle seeing Syd with Noah any longer, he accepts a posting to the American Embassy in London. However a bad mission and unsaid things lead Sydney to his door.

Disclaimer: None of this is mine. All the Alias characters belong to the very talented mind of JJ Abrams. Emma Brody and Doug Roach and the rest of the London Embassy crew belong to the cancelled Fox show The American Embassy, produced by Jersey Televison., Michelle Fox and Danny DeVito

Distribution: Whoever wants it just ask and it's yours.

Rating : PG to start.

Classification: Angst/Adventure and Romance….what could a person ask for?

Author's Note: I'd o like to thank my dear friend and beta girl extraordinar Anne-Marie, without her this would be a huge mess! And I'd like to thank all the wonderful people who have taken the time to give me feedback!



Since Vaughn and Emma had left the Embassy, the sky had opened up in a steady torrent of water, drenching them both. Emma grabbed the umbrella from Vaughn's hand, making him shout in surprised protest.

"What are you doing?" he blinked at her through the rain coursing down his face.

"Why bother with umbrellas? It's not like its doing us any good. It's raining so hard it's dripping right through the material," Emma elbowed him.

"Well there was this one spot on the top of my head that was still on the dry side," Michael argued.

"You need to loosen up Michael, dance in the rain," she said swinging their hands as the walked.

"It's against CIA protocol," he smiled as he watched her jump in a large puddle.

"So how was your day? Anything new on the terrorist attack?" she asked walking backwards so she could watch his face as he talked. Emma loved the way his face was so expressive. He was so passionate about his job.

"Nothing as of yet but I'm hoping that with Doug back from Kuwait, he'll have something new from our sources there," Vaughn told her. He knew the bombing had marked Emma. He'd had to wake her up a couple times from nightmares. It had only been her first week when the bomb went off killing ten, including Dewey Johnson, Emma's first case at the Embassy. The man had stripped naked in the middle of the Embassy's formal front hall and refused to put his clothes back on until the American government agreed to send him home. Emma had told Vaughn about an interesting conversation she'd had with Johnson later. It was something that had changed her life. Dewey had helped her see that where ever she ran away to, she always took herself and her problems with her. Johnson told her to learn to deal with her issues before they runined her life and she ended up by herself and miserable. It was funny how that little piece of wisdom spoke volumes to Vaughn as well.

"I hate it when he goes away like this," Emma grumbled.

"I know, I know it's all part of the CIA agent's job…" she continued quickly when she saw Vaughn open his mouth to say something, "but it's still nerve wracking."

"I was going to say that I know how hard it is to sit and wait for people you care about to come back from a mission," he said softly, remembering all of the sleepless nights he'd had worrying about Sydney.

"Sorry Michael, I forgot for a minute who I was speaking to," Emma replied and then was quiet for a moment. "Michael, do you every wonder how she is?"

Emma had found out about Sydney thanks to Doug's big mouth but Vaughn was actually grateful to have someone to talk to about her. Emma was a born romantic and she really loved the whole star-crossed lover thing.

"Occasionally," he shrugged.

Who was he kidding? He only thought about her on rainy days and days that ended in 'Y'. Vaughn sighed quietly. Weiss was right he was obsessed.

"So how was your day? Anything new on the duty desk?" Michael asked, changing the topic.

"I hate my job sometimes, have I told you that? And I think 'Q' hates me. He gives me all the crappy cases," Emma groaned.

"What happened? Do I have to go take care of your nasty boss?" he demanded in his most intimidating CIA voice. "Come on tell Uncle Mike."

God, it felt good to laugh and be himself again. The last year in L.A., his life had been filled with so many regrets and so much pain, it hadn't left him a lot of room for anything else. He had begun to forget what the real Michael Vaughn had been like. Somewhere along the way his bi-weekly hockey games had taken a back seat to sitting in his office and planning Sydney's counter missions. Gone were the nights spent bar-hopping with friends, picking up beautiful, young, (mostly untalented) starlets who'd be waiting tables in the morning and let's not forget how the yearly trip to Vegas had been put on the back burner because Sydney had to go to Jerusalem. Vaughn sighed again. At least he was living now. Emma made him laugh…made him forget about things he couldn't have and renewing his friendship with Doug reminded him of his wilder days when he knew how to enjoy himself. Despite what it had cost him, London had been a good move.

"I had to deny this couple a sponsorship," Emma continued as if Vaughn hadn't just been a million miles away. "They met while they were backpacking through Europe and now she wants to marry this guy and bring him back to the States. She says it was love at first sight."

Emma snorted in obvious disgust at this display of rampant romanticism.

"Am I hearing this correctly?" Vaughn gasped in mock horror. "The world's biggest romantic, Emma Brody, doubts that love at first sight exists! My God is there no hope for the rest of us!"

"Shut up! And yes… er, no…I don't know!" Emma laughed at Vaughn's ridiculous reaction. Vaughn lifted an eyebrow at her and cocked his head.

"Well? Which is it? Yes or no?"

"I do, really but for some reason this case just doesn't seem right. Do you?" she asked watching his smile disappear and regretting instantly that she'd asked.

"What? Believe in love at first sight? I used to think it didn't exist, but when Sydney walked into my office that first day in her clown school reject hair, well I changed my mind. I just didn't realise it until later," Vaughn shrugged, thinking back to that day when she'd first walked into the CIA offices. She had seemed like a bit of head case at first, but there was just something about her that intrigued him. Now, looking back on that day he remembers his heart doing that little flippy thing. He hadn't stood a chance.

"What about Doug? Was it love at first sight?" Vaughn asked Emma, turning the tables.

"Doug? Hell no!" she laughed and then turned an interesting shade of pink. "I ended up making out with him in the bathroom on a plane…nope, not what I'd call love at first sight. More like a mild sexual attraction coupled with a lot of free booze."

"You what? You and Doug?" Vaughn howled in laughter.

"Yeah and the door came flying open and well… there was this line up. Why I'm telling you this, I'll never …Doug!" she cried excitedly.

"Wasn't he there?" Vaughn asked in confusion.

"No stupid"! she said pointing to where a man was getting out of a car. "Doug!"

Vaughn watched as Emma jumped into his arms, kissing him passionately. Doug didn't seem to mind that Emma was soaking wet, instead he seemed to relish in it. Frowning, he looked away. Vaughn hated feeling like a third wheel and it hurt seeing people so obviously in love when he himself was forced to keep a distance from the woman he loved.

"Michael!" Doug said, slipping his arm around Emma's waist. It was weird in London, Vaughn reflected, he was always Agent Vaughn, Mr. Vaughn, Michael or Mike, no one called him by his last name here.

"Doug, how'd it go?" Vaughn smiled his friend.

"Got the information and I dropped it off to be translated on my way here. Said they'd have it ready for us tonight about seven," Doug said as they headed into the grocery store, totally oblivious to the death glare that Emma and Vaughn were getting from a bag boy who'd been ordered to mop up the wet floor.

"You two so did not make that kids day." Doug laughed.

"What are you getting at?" Emma frownedshe hated upsetting others.

"The two of you dripping all over his nice clean floor." He pointed to the kid with the mop.

"Sorry." She grimace, but only got another glare in return.

The three of them moved further into the grocery store, putting work behind them for awhile and concentrating on the festivities planned for the next evening.

"So how many people are you guys having over tomorrow?" Doug asked as they grabbed a grocery cart.

"According to your girlfriend, the whole damn embassy," Vaughn cracked.

"Ha, ha," Emma said sticking her tongue out at Vaughn. "For your information, I didn't invite the night shift or the Marines."

Vaughn laughed and marvelled at the sound of it. It was something he'd done a lot since moving to London and meeting Ms. Brody. There was something about her that made him want to get out of his self-imposed prison. She helped him realize that sometimes loving someone just isn't enough and that it was okay to get on with life. He had struggled with that for a long time, even after moving to London.

"So is Jill coming?" Doug asked Vaughn quietly, hoping Emma had missed the question as she dropped a head of lettuce into the shopping cart.

"Why wouldn't she be?" Emma asked looking between the two men.

"We broke up."

"And you didn't tell me?" Emma stopped in the middle of the aisle, blocking traffic so she could glare at Vaughn and Doug.

"It just kind of happened," Vaughn answered.

"'It just kind of happened'," Emma mimicked Vaughn's clipped voice. She was about to start a tirade about their deceitful behaviour when her attention was caught by an older woman, shooting her a death glare because she was blocking the aisle with her cart.

"Go around. This is important," she snapped at the woman before turning back to Vaughn. Her normally friendly face had taken on a rather thunderous quality that had both Doug and Michael squirming.

"Look, I wasn't willing to move to Switzerland so she could take a posting at the UN and she wasn't willing to stay here in London so we split up in typical Michael-Jill fashion," Vaughn said matter of factly.

"You just broke up and you're acting as if it's nothing," Emma blinked up at him.

"Jill and I were just playing the same old game, Emma. We do the friend thing real well but we never seem to get the couple part right. Some people are just like that," Michael didn't know what to tell her, he just hated seeing the disappointment in her eyes.

"So what are you guys serving?" Doug asked, directing Emma and her cart down the aisle away from Vaughn and the potentially ugly conversation that was brewing.

"Sorry," Doug mouthed at him once he got Emma focused on something else.

"You'll pay later," Vaughn assured him.



Sydney stood under a little overhang across the street from the Embassy, waiting for a chance to approach the guards at the gate again. She needed to find a way to get Vaughn's address without breaking into the Embassy's HR files. She noticed that the young guard was back on duty and she hadn't been blind to the fact that he had been checking her out earlier.

Well it's now or never, she thought as she turned the collar up on her newly acquired beige trench coat. The blood from her wound had soaked her own clothes thoroughly and she'd had to steal the coat from a pub down the road.

"Hi! Remember me?" Syd smiled at the young man.

"Mr. Vaughn's friend," he nodded, returning her smile.

"Yeah. Please tell me he hasn't already left for the day," Sydney didn't have to fake her desperation she truly felt it.

"I'm sorry. You missed him by about an hour. He and Ms. Brody left together." As Sydney's face became even paler, the young Marine's smile faltered, "hey, are you okay?"

"Fine, just jetlag," she said through gritted teeth. "Look I'm in a bit of a jam. I'm a friend of Michael's from LA and I was supposed to meet him at his place but I forgot my address book and his number at home. I'm so embarrassed! I'm not sure how to find him now and I'm suppose to be there for dinner," Syd could feel her legs starting to shake. She wasn't sure if it was from the cold or blood loss.

"I'm sorry Miss, I can't be of any…hold on a minute," the soldier said seeing another man coming toward the gate in a black trench coat.

"Hey Mr. Peirson, can I have some help here?" he called waving over the other man.

"Sure Private what can I do?" the man smiled when he noticed Sydney standing there.

"This lady says she's a friend of Mr. Vaughn's and she's misplaced his address, can you help her with it?"

"David Peirson and you are?" he said holding out his hand to the beautiful redhead.

Mike can really pick 'em. And boy does he seem to have a thing for redheads!

"Alice Thompson," Sydney said, using Vaughn's ex-girlfriend's name, just in case.

"I've heard him mention you," Peirson said, holding her hand a little bit longer than was appropriate.

"Anyway I've not only left his phone number but also his address in LA on my kitchen counter and I'm suppose to be there for dinner in…" Sydney glanced at her watch as she disengaged her hand from Peirson's, "half an hour."

"Well I think I can help you then," he said as he pulled his palm pilot from the pocket of his coat. "Will you be at his and Emma's party tomorrow night?"

"Yes, tomorrow night," she nodded, her mouth dry. He was taking forever! She wanted to rip the planner from his hands and hit him with it.

Sydney felt an urge to sit down, but fought against it. Her vision was blurring, and it was becoming a battle to keep herself upright. She swayed slightly into David.

"Hey you okay?" he asked steadying her.

"Yes, thanks. It's just jetlag," she smiled placing a hand on his arm. Turning slightly to the left to survey her exit route, Sydney noticed a dark car parked on the other side of the street and two men watching her every move. It had to be K-Directorate.

"Here let me write the address…"

"That's okay, you can just tell me. I'm good with stuff like that. Memory like a steel trap," she tapped her temple.

"Sure… it's, ah 1215 Park Manor Circle," Peirson said taken off guard by her sudden interruption.

"Alice are you sure you're okay?" he asked as she seemed to sway again.

"Who?" She answered distractedly watching one of the men get out of the car.

"You're name is Alice, right?"

"Yes it is. Look David, I have to get going. I'll see you at Michael's tomorrow night. Oh and thanks!" she said, pushing off of him as the man crossing the street walked faster toward her. He was reaching into the breast pocket of his jacket. She had to get moving!

"Alice I have my car. I could give you a lift," Peirson suggested as she began to turn away from him.

"I like to walk," she mumbled.

"Sure, well okay, tomorrow night then," David said as she stumbled down the street, and then broke into a run.

"Man, Mike dates some real hotties but talk about a flake!" David laughed as he watched her move quickly down the street. Shrugging, he turned to face the gatehouse and the young Marine guard.

"Hey Mr. Peirson, you're bleeding!" the guard said pointing to the front of his trench coat.

"What?" David panicked.

"It's not mine," he said with relief after quickly checking himself for wounds. He lifted his hand to a large blood stain on his coat and then cast a glance down the street after Alice.

"I think I better call Mike. Let me know if she shows up again," David said as he began to backtrack to the building he's just left. Peirson took the stairs two at a time and whipped open the door.

"Thought you left, Mr. Peirson," Seargent MacLeod said, alerted by the sudden gust of air.

"Seargent, I need all the surveillance tapes from the front of the Embassy for the last 24 hours. Can you pull them for me? I'll be up in the lab," David spoke sharply as he moved to the grand staircase.

"What have you gotten yourself into Michael?" he whispered to himself as he hit the speed dial on his phone. It rang once, twice, three times and after the fourth ring, the answering machine and Emma Brody's friendly voice spoke in his ear.

"Hi you've reached Michael and Emma. We're not home right now so leave us your name, number and a brief message and we'll call you back soon. Oh and if this is either of our parents, remember the time difference next time…beep."

"Mike, it's David. Look, something totally strange happened here so I need you to call me in at the lab ASAP. Understand? ASAP!" David said.

There wasn't much point in leaving too much information on the machine. After all, this could be a matter of national security.





"Are you sure we have enough food here Em?" Doug asked sarcastically as they dragged the shopping bags up the stairs to the loft's door.

"Keep this up and I'll make you sit between Liz and Q tomorrow night," Emma threatened flashing Doug an evil smile.

"Hey! I thought I won that honour when I refused to let you buy every piece of pastry the bakery had?" Vaughn frowned.

"Hey if you really want it, the seat is yours," Doug offered quickly.

"Just kidding, I'm not sitting between those two. I'm liable to lose body parts the way those two battle," Vaughn smirked placing his bags down to open the door.

"Actually from what I walked in on the other day, battling isn't at the top of the agenda these days," Emma grinned knowingly.

"No way! They've been at each other's throats since she got here," Vaughn howled moving aside to let Emma enter the loft.

"Foreplay!" Doug nodded wisely. "Right, Em?"

Emma blushed and Vaughn smirked

"There's a message Michael. Can you get? It's probably the Embassy calling for you anyway," she said moving through the loft to the kitchen.

"I'll get it in after we put the groceries away," Vaughn said.

"No, check the machine and then you and Doug go by and pick up the translation. I'll clean this up and start dinner," she said taking the bags from him. "By the time you get back, I'll have dinner ready and the beer cold."

"Are you sure? I thought we'd get take out," Doug called from the living room.

"What? You don't like my cooking?" she asked emerging from the kitchen to glare at Doug.

"I didn't say that. I thought you might want to come back to the Embassy with me and let Michael cook dinner," Doug said, trying to soothe Emma.

"You two decide," Vaughn shook his head as he moved to the phone.

"You have one message: "Mike, its David. Look something totally strange happened here so I need you to call me in the lab ASAP. Understand? ASAP.""

"Who was it?" Emma asked.

"David Peirson. He says he needs me to call him at the lab ASAP, says something totally strange is going on," Vaughn's forehead wrinkled in concern.

"He has a descriptive way with words. Look don't bother calling him back, we'll just head over there. I have to pick up that translation anyway," Doug said.

"Okay, just let me change out of these wet clothes and we'll go," Vaughn said moving up the stairs and pulling off his tie.



Sydney tried as hard as she could to lose the K-Directorate agents, but her body was starting to give up on her. She knew if she kept up her present pace, she'd bleed to death before she could get to Vaughn. She needed a doctor and she needed one soon. Then she saw her chance. A double-decker bus was preparing to pull away from the curb into the busy street. With her last bit of energy, Sydney sprinted to the bus, she caught the last step and stepped up onto the platform.

"Miss? Are you okay?" the conductor asked seeing her double over.

"Fine, just out of shape," she huffed looking out the window at the K- Directorate agents who were trying to catch their breath as they watched the bus leave them behind.

"I need to get to Park Manor Circle," she said looking up at the conductor.

"It's over near Surrey Quay," the conductor said, waving his hand in the quay's general direction.

"Does this bus go that way?"

"No, you may want to grab a cab. I can let you off here in front of the Regent Hotel, there'll be cab's there," he offered. She was such a beautiful young woman, she reminded him of his daughter.

"Thank you," she pressed her hand against her side hoping against hope that Vaughn would be home from shopping by now.



Vaughn bounded down the stairs dressed in jeans and a sweater, feeling not only dry, but far more comfortable.

"You ready?"

"Yup, let's fly," Vaughn moved to the closet to pull his leather coat from a hanger.

"Michael, where's your Diana Krall CD ?" Emma called from the kitchen.

"It's on the bookshelf in my room. See you in a bit," he shouted back as he closed the door.



"Evening gentlemen," Doug said as he pulled up to the Embassy gatehouse.

"Evening Mr. Roach, Mr Vaughn," the solider on duty said lifting the gate arm to give them access.

"You go grab the translation and I'll go see David," Vaughn said as he got out of the car and moved to the stairs.

"Meet you in the lab," Doug said as they entered the Embassy's front lobby.

"Pull the nightshift again MacLeod?" Doug cracked at they reached the security desk at the bottom of the grand staircase.

"Some of us just aren't as lucky as you, Roach. Mr. Vaughn, Mr Peirson is waiting for you in the lab. It seems really urgent," Sergeant MacLeod buzzed them through the gate.

Vaughn raced up the stairs two at a time. Moving down the empty hallway, he stopped at the CIA lab door and punched in his security code before he heard the door click open.

"Don't you check your messages Mike?" David said as soon as he saw Vaughn.

"What's up? It better be important to get me back out on a rainy night like this."

"Do you know an Alice Thompson?" David asked.

"You know I do. I told you all about her," Vaughn replied sliding up next to David Peirson. Peirson was sitting at a counter, a video screen in front of him.

"Is this her?" he asked flipping a switch. The screen filled with a picture of a red-headed Sydney.

"Syd," Vaughn breathed, his fingers itching to reach out and touch the screen.

"What's this all about?" he said turning to look at David.

"According to Private Carmichael this is the woman who was looking for you earlier this afternoon. I met her on my way out of here when she came back looking for your address," David replied leaning back in his chair.

"Hey Dave," Doug said entering the lab, a file stuck under his arm.

"Doug. How was Kuwait?"

"Fine. Isn't that Sydney Bristow?" Doug asked staring at the stilled video picture.

"Who's Sydney Bristow?" David asked looking from Doug to Vaughn.

"I used to be her handler. She's a double agent for the Agency. What happened tonight?" Vaughn explained unable to take his eyes of the screen.

"Carmichael thought that I could help her, give her your home address. When she told me who she was, I flirted with her, thinking she was your ex. Anyway I gave her your address and then something spooked her and she took off but before that happened she stumbled into me and after she was gone I found the blood," David said moving to his trench coat that was thrown over the lab counter.

"Blood? How much blood? Christ, she's hurt and they're onto her," Vaughn paled noticably. Syd was in trouble and she'd come looking for him.

"You said you gave her my address?" Vaughn's stomach flipped.

"Emma!" Doug said quietly.

Both Vaughn and Doug raced to the door.

"What can I do?" David yelled.

"Nothing until you hear from me," Vaughn called over his shoulder.

Why hadn't he realised that the 'redhead' who'd come looking for him was Sydney? Jill wouldn't. She hadn't returned his phone calls since last week, when he'd told her he wasn't going with her. Syd had come to him for help and he'd missed her. Where the hell was Dixon or god forbid, Noah.

"Mike, they'll both be fine," Doug said, not sure if he was trying to convince himself or Michael.

"If anything happens to her, I'll never forgive myself," Vaughn sighed, closing his eyes and shaking away the image of Emma in a puddle of blood, or worse Emma and Sydney both dead on the loft floor.

"It's not your fault…this is not your fault," Doug said honking his horn loudly at the slow car in front of them.

"Buddy! Move it!" Vaughn yelled out the window.

"Relax will you? We're a block away," Doug tightened his own grip on the steering wheel.

"I can't! You don't know what these people are capable of! SD-6, K- Directorate, they are brutal, ambitious groups who don't know the meaning of life. It's all about money and power," Vaughn spit out, his anger mounting, but who was he angry at? Himself? SD-6? K-Directorate or Sydney…he didn't know.

Pulling up in front of Vaughn and Emma's flat, Doug double-parked the car and the two men jumped out, racing for the building's front door. Fumbling with his keys, Vaughn managed to unlock the front door, and that's when he saw the drops of blood leading up the stairs to his door.

Oh God Syd! his heart leaped into his throat at the thought of her being hurt, or worse dead.

As they reached the landing, Vaughn looked up. The door to his flat was wide open.

"Shit," he whispered. He wanted to call out to Emma but realised that if anyone was still in there, they'd have the advantage. Grabbing Doug's arm to stop him, Vaughn pointed up at the open door.

"Em," Doug's breath caught in his throat and he suddenly understood Vaughn's panic in the car.

Vaughn pulled his gun from his holster and slowly moved up the stairs with Doug close behind. As the neared the door, he could hear Diana Krall's husky voice playing in the background. It was Emma's favourite CD to listen to when they cooked dinner. Suddenly his last words to Emma rang through his brain… 'It's on the bookshelf in my room. See you in a bit'… how could those possibly be his last words to Emma? They were so common, so unimportant.

As they approached the open door, Vaughn couldn't avoid seeing the blood that smeared the doorframe. It was Syd's, he knew it. Poised, with his gun ready, he entered the apartment, Doug watching his back. Vaughn noticed a trail of blood, from the hallway to the livingroom, that was lit by the lights from the kitchen.

"Em?" Vaughn called, but he got no answer. A sudden memory of a picture he's seen of Danny Recht's body in the bathtub after he'd been shot to death ran through his mind. He knew theof the havoc that SD-6 could wreak, and from Syd's mission reports, he knew all about K-Directorate's penchant for death.

"Em?" he called again, as he stepped through the doorway of the livingroom. He could hear what sounded like someone whimpering, but he couldn't see anyone. His eyes followed the trail of blood that led behind the couch.

"Em? Em, it's Michael and Doug. It's going to be okay," he said quietly, his eyes searching for anything out of the ordinary.

As he rounded the couch he found Emma, sitting on the floor holding his spare gun in her hand and holding an unconscious and bleeding Sydney Bristow in her lap.

"Mike? Help her."

TBC