Someone to hold onto

Sydney Bristow parked her car next to the black one already parked in front of the warehouse and got out. Out of a habitual sense of paranoia she checked her surroundings before walking up to the small door in the side of the building. With a little smile she realized that she had a particular little bounce in her step, one that only happened when she came here for her meeting with her handler.

Michael Vaughn.The smile grew wider as she tasted his name in her mouth. It tasted good, she thought, just like the words Sydney Vaughn.

It wasn't that she didn't know the futility of that thought. Michael Vaughn and Sydney Bristow, as a couple, existed only in her and his dreams. Dreams that neither ever talked about. They were professionals, had both devoted their lives to bringing down SD-6 and neither would give up on that goal until it had been achieved.

But that did not mean that Sydney Bristow couldn't look forward to these secretive meetings, to the trust she shared with Vaughn, to the little rituals that had somehow developed between them over the last couple of months. A ritual like the can of coke she carried in her shoulder bag and that they would share when the reporting and the instructing were over. It had been Vaughn who had started it on that blisteringly hot day last august when they had both felt like boiling in the balmy interior of the warehouse. And just when they had been about to take the enormous risk of stepping outside together to cool off in the gentle breeze Vaughn had remembered the can of coke in his glove compartment. It hadn't been nearly cool enough to dispel the heat, but every drop had been like honey as they had shared it, sitting side by side on a crate, not talking about anything terribly important. Just being.

The next meeting Sydney had brought another coke and the ritual had moved on from there. Just something they shared, no matter how dangerous it was.

Stepping into the warehouse Sydney had no trouble at all to paste the warm smile across her features. It came straight from her heart.

But her smile faded the minute she stepped around the last crates separating her from the small enclosure, her sanctuary. Michael Vaughn wasn't there.

Instead Eric Weiss stood there, waiting, leaning casually against the very crates Sydney often used when she made her reports to Vaughn. On seeing her Weiss stepped forward, offering her a disarming smile. He had probably seen the suspicion in her face.

"Where's Vaughn?" She asked as she stepped into the enclosure. This was the first time Vaughn had not shown up for a meeting and it unsettled her more than she cared to admit to herself. She only now realized how much she depended on these little meetings with Vaughn to keep her sane, to provide some semblance of normalcy. She lied to her friends on a daily basis. She played coy to the very man who had ordered her fiancé's death. She pretended to be devoted to SD-6 for the sake of her partner. But not with Vaughn. With him she could be completely honest and completely herself. What had happened that she could not have that with him now? Was he okay? He had to be. She looked up when Weiss cleared his throat.

"Vaughn couldn't make it this time. He had some urgent personal stuff going on. It couldn't wait." He grinned suddenly, "Looks like you're stuck with me for the moment."

Sydney offered him a smile in return, because he expected it from her, but her heart wasn't in it.

"So it seems, Agent Weiss. What's my counter mission?"

Sydney sat down in her usual spot on the crates and listened as Weiss explained.

***

The next four days were among the hardest Sydney had ever faced. Not because of the paper that was due in on Friday. Not because of the upcoming mission in France with Dixon. And not because of the dinner party Francie had suddenly decided to organize on Friday night. All of that Sydney could handle.

But the continued silence on the part of Michael Vaughn was troubling her more than she liked to admit. It made her unsure and edgy.

It played through her mind from the moment she got up in the morning until she went to bed at night. What reason had he had for departing so suddenly? At some point she even found herself wondering if he was coming back at all. No, that wasn't entirely fair. If that had been the case Vaughn would have let her know. Somehow.

If Dixon noticed her preoccupation he made no mention of it during their trip to France. He knew she was too much of a professional to let whatever was troubling her cloud her judgment. The mission in itself was straightforward enough. Break into the German Embassy in Paris, steal the documents on Rambaldi, copy them for the CIA (without Dixon noticing of course) and pull back out. She made her report to Eric Weiss an hour after landing.

It all went smoothly and she got home in time to make some last minute changes in her paper and to deliver it to her professor. And to wait for that one phone call. There was no real reason for Vaughn to call a meeting, but her gut told her that he would, that he would want to explain his sudden absence.

The call finally came during the afternoon, as Francie was out to buy groceries for the dinner party.

"Joey's Pizza." His voice, unmistakably, but without it's usual enthusiasm, the tone of his voice flat, controlled and emotionless.

"Sorry, wrong number." Sydney replied automatically, but her heart was racing as she hung up. She had never before heard Vaughn sound this way, this mechanical. It scared her. As a result she all but ran to her car, grabbing her coat and her car keys on the way out.

***

At the warehouse Sydney parked her car next to Vaughn's black one and she hurried inside. But coming around the last line of crates she slowed her steps.

Vaughn stood inside the enclosure, his back towards her and Sydney was able to tell a lot from his stance. His shoulders sagged like he was carrying the weight of the world and at his sites his hands were clenched into fists. He wasn't wearing his customary suit and tie, but old faded jeans and a dark blue sweater. He didn't hear Sydney approach and jumped when she softly spoke his name. Whirling around he pasted a smile around his mouth, but it did not mask the unveiled hurt in his green eyes.

"I didn't hear you come in." He apologized and Sydney smiled back.

"You were miles away. Hi."

"Hi." He replied slowly as if he was carefully choosing his words, "How was the mission?"

"Rather simple compared to the missions I usually get sent on. But that's not why you called this meeting, is it? I've already made a full report to Eric Weiss."

The minute she asked her question the smile on Vaughn's face faded to nothingness. All at once he looked scared, hurt and completely lost.

"What's wrong, Vaughn?" Sydney asked, worry for her friend sounding in her voice.

Vaughn didn't answer. Instead he turned away for a moment as if he was afraid to look her in the eyes. The silence stretched on, until Sydney could bear it no longer. She walked around him and looked up into his eyes and shock had her stand still for a moment. Tears threatened to burst forth from those incredible green eyes and when she reached out a hand to touch his arm she could feel him tremble all over.

"Vaughn? Talk to me, please. You're scaring me." She said softly and completely honestly. She was scared. This side of Vaughn she had never seen before. Normally he was the strong one, his shoulder hers to cry on. It should not be the other way around.

Vaughn took a couple of deep breaths and wiped a shaking hand across his eyes, brushing aside the tears, before staring at the concrete floor between his sneakers.

"My mother is dead." The words were spoken so softly that Sydney had to strain her ears to hear them, but their impact hit her all the worse.

Vaughn's careful control broke completely and he sagged to the floor, hugging himself as hot tears streamed down his face. Sydney dropped to the floor behind him and she put her arms around him to pull him tightly against her as she murmured soft comforting words that could do nothing for him at all. His tears flowed for a long time, soaking through the sleeve of her blouse as she rocked him.

Sydney felt her own eyes sting as she comforted her torn friend. This was how it had been like for her when her own mother had died all those long years ago. Night after night she had cried herself to sleep, all alone, as her father had been too caught up in his own grief to console his daughter. Now it was the same for Vaughn. His father had been killed a long time ago, Alice had left him and he had no family to speak off. But he had her and she would make sure he did not suffer the way she had.

She returned to the present as in her arms Vaughn shifted slightly and his crying became a muffled sniffling as he slowly regained some measure of control.

"Hey, are you okay?" Sydney whispered softly and Vaughn nodded.

Reluctantly she let go of him and together they scrambled back to their feet. Vaughn flashed her an embarrassed grin.

"Sorry about that." He said with a voice that still sounded thick with grief, "It's just.I had nobody else to turn to."

"Don't apologize, Vaughn. You've been there for me so many times over the past years. I'm glad I could finally return the favor." Sydney smiled and she moved closer to him to cup his damp cheek in her hand, "Back when my mother died I had nobody at all to turn to, not even my father. I had to deal with all that grief by myself. It was horrible." Here she lifted her other hand to cup his other cheek, so that she held his face as she pressed her forehead against his and looked up into his eyes, "I won't let that happen to you, Michael. I am here for you, whenever you want, day or night. You are not alone. Together we will get through this. Together."

Here words still echoed through the empty warehouse as they continued to hold each other for a long time.

The end.