CIA headquarters
Los Angeles
Vaughn put down the phone. Thirty-three years old, and damned if his palms weren't a little sweaty from making a phone call to a girl. And the only thing he'd had to say was "Joey's Pizza?"
He didn't know what the hell he was going to do the first time he saw Sydney again. He knew what he *wanted* to do, but pulling her into his arms and kissing her for three days was the last thing he *should* do.
They *should* go back to their working relationship, the way it had been before their one night in France. Their one glorious, passionate, soul-searing night that could still take his breath away just by thinking about it.
The problem was, he needed to stop thinking about it. They needed to be able to go back to being just an agent and her handler. It was too dangerous not to.
But could they? Was it possible? Did he even want it to be possible?
Vaughn cursed silently to himself. Why couldn't they just be normal people with normal lives who could go on normal dates and have normal -- OK, mind-altering -- sex? Of course, he sighed, if they had normal lives, they would never have met and she would be happily married to someone else.
"Going to see Sydney?" Weiss' voice almost made him jump. Vaughn hadn't noticed him standing just inside the doorway to his office.
"Yeah, she is my agent, you know. Occasionally, I am required to see her." He regretted the sarcasm in his voice the second the words left his lips. "Sorry."
Weiss raised his eyebrows. Then, without a word, he shut the door to Vaughn's office and sat down in front of his desk. "OK, Michael, what really happened in France?"
Vaughn stiffened. "What do you mean, 'what *really* happened'?"
"I read your report -- now don't get all pissy about that -- and there was something different about it. It was as thorough as usual -- until the end. I doubt anyone else would notice, but I got the impression that you'd left something out."
"Why would I do that?"
"That's what I'm asking you. You've been completely bipolar every since you got back. One minute you're grinning like a fool at nothing in particular, and the next you're biting some temp's head off for taking the last Krispy Kreme. I'd lay odds it has something to do with Sydney Bristow. It usually does."
For just an instant, Vaughn wanted nothing more than to tell Weiss what had happened. God knows he could use somebody to talk to about this. But ... definitely not here. "What the report says is what happened. Period." He stared at Weiss steadily. Weiss stared back. They sat like that for several moments before Weiss finally relaxed his posture.
"OK, no more third-degree. Just promise me that you were careful. That you'll *be* careful."
Vaughn blinked. Was he projecting, or was Weiss actually giving him a lecture on safe sex? It suddenly struck him that they had been far from "careful," and he had no idea whether Sydney was on the Pill. Which meant that he had one more thing to worry about. If he thought their lives were complicated *now*.... "Careful?" He hoped that his voice didn't sound as strangled to Weiss as it did to him.
"The last thing you need is for Haladki to wind up with any more ammunition against you."
For once, the subject of Haladki was a relief. "He won't."
Weiss grunted. "Take a signal disrupter."
"What?"
"When you meet with Sydney. Go by Tech and get a signal disrupter. Just in case."
"You think Haladki is surveilling our meets?" The concept made Vaughn at once furious and nauseated.
"I don't know. I'm just saying, if you and Sydney have something to talk about that you sure don't want anybody else to hear, it wouldn't hurt."
Vaughn blew out a breath and sat back in his chair, running his hand through his hair. "Thanks, Eric," he said with sincerity.
Weiss nodded and stood up. He started to leave, then turned and glanced at Vaughn. "You're gonna tell me someday, you know that, right?"
Vaughn couldn't keep a small smile from playing about his lips. "Yeah."
"Just so we're clear. Now go see her before I have to take you out for the good of the office."
He did.
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Author's Note: I apologize for the brevity and lateness of this update. My muse plopped down on the sofa and refused to do any inspiring whatsoever during the Olympics, and she's only now beginning to recover from all the figure-skating angst. You will get their first warehouse meeting eventually.
Los Angeles
Vaughn put down the phone. Thirty-three years old, and damned if his palms weren't a little sweaty from making a phone call to a girl. And the only thing he'd had to say was "Joey's Pizza?"
He didn't know what the hell he was going to do the first time he saw Sydney again. He knew what he *wanted* to do, but pulling her into his arms and kissing her for three days was the last thing he *should* do.
They *should* go back to their working relationship, the way it had been before their one night in France. Their one glorious, passionate, soul-searing night that could still take his breath away just by thinking about it.
The problem was, he needed to stop thinking about it. They needed to be able to go back to being just an agent and her handler. It was too dangerous not to.
But could they? Was it possible? Did he even want it to be possible?
Vaughn cursed silently to himself. Why couldn't they just be normal people with normal lives who could go on normal dates and have normal -- OK, mind-altering -- sex? Of course, he sighed, if they had normal lives, they would never have met and she would be happily married to someone else.
"Going to see Sydney?" Weiss' voice almost made him jump. Vaughn hadn't noticed him standing just inside the doorway to his office.
"Yeah, she is my agent, you know. Occasionally, I am required to see her." He regretted the sarcasm in his voice the second the words left his lips. "Sorry."
Weiss raised his eyebrows. Then, without a word, he shut the door to Vaughn's office and sat down in front of his desk. "OK, Michael, what really happened in France?"
Vaughn stiffened. "What do you mean, 'what *really* happened'?"
"I read your report -- now don't get all pissy about that -- and there was something different about it. It was as thorough as usual -- until the end. I doubt anyone else would notice, but I got the impression that you'd left something out."
"Why would I do that?"
"That's what I'm asking you. You've been completely bipolar every since you got back. One minute you're grinning like a fool at nothing in particular, and the next you're biting some temp's head off for taking the last Krispy Kreme. I'd lay odds it has something to do with Sydney Bristow. It usually does."
For just an instant, Vaughn wanted nothing more than to tell Weiss what had happened. God knows he could use somebody to talk to about this. But ... definitely not here. "What the report says is what happened. Period." He stared at Weiss steadily. Weiss stared back. They sat like that for several moments before Weiss finally relaxed his posture.
"OK, no more third-degree. Just promise me that you were careful. That you'll *be* careful."
Vaughn blinked. Was he projecting, or was Weiss actually giving him a lecture on safe sex? It suddenly struck him that they had been far from "careful," and he had no idea whether Sydney was on the Pill. Which meant that he had one more thing to worry about. If he thought their lives were complicated *now*.... "Careful?" He hoped that his voice didn't sound as strangled to Weiss as it did to him.
"The last thing you need is for Haladki to wind up with any more ammunition against you."
For once, the subject of Haladki was a relief. "He won't."
Weiss grunted. "Take a signal disrupter."
"What?"
"When you meet with Sydney. Go by Tech and get a signal disrupter. Just in case."
"You think Haladki is surveilling our meets?" The concept made Vaughn at once furious and nauseated.
"I don't know. I'm just saying, if you and Sydney have something to talk about that you sure don't want anybody else to hear, it wouldn't hurt."
Vaughn blew out a breath and sat back in his chair, running his hand through his hair. "Thanks, Eric," he said with sincerity.
Weiss nodded and stood up. He started to leave, then turned and glanced at Vaughn. "You're gonna tell me someday, you know that, right?"
Vaughn couldn't keep a small smile from playing about his lips. "Yeah."
"Just so we're clear. Now go see her before I have to take you out for the good of the office."
He did.
---------------------
Author's Note: I apologize for the brevity and lateness of this update. My muse plopped down on the sofa and refused to do any inspiring whatsoever during the Olympics, and she's only now beginning to recover from all the figure-skating angst. You will get their first warehouse meeting eventually.
