Sydney juggled her purse and a bag of pastries as she tried to slip her key into the lock. When the keys fell out of her hand and to the ground, she could feel the tears of frustration, anger, and sorrow welling up once more.
Swiping furiously at her eyes, she leaned over and picked up her keys. She took several deep breaths before placing the key in the lock and opening the door.
"Francie? You up?" she called out, trying to sound upbeat, surprised by her success.
"Thank God, you're finally home. I thought I was going to have to leave you a note," Francie called from her bedroom.
"Why?" Sydney called back as she walked into the kitchen and placed the bag of croissants on the counter.
"I have to go up to the lake," she began, stopping when she spotted the bag. "Oh! Did you get the ones with the chocolate-cinnamon filling?"
Sydney smiled, the first genuine smile so far that hideous morning. "Yeah, I did." Taking the still warm pastry she was being offered, she took a bite. "So why do you have to go to the lake?" she asked.
Francie took a bite of her croissant and leaned back against the counter. It was sinful, rich, and absolute heaven. She swallowed. "These are divine. It reminds me of the time when..." Francie continued as Sydney stared into space.
"Um, Syd? Earth to Sydney," Francie called.
Sydney jumped. Focus. She smiled weakly. "Sorry," she said sheepishly. Grabbing a glass from the cupboard, she walked to the refrigerator and poured herself a glass of milk. "So why do you have to go to the lake?" she asked.
Francie shook her head. Sometimes, talking to Sydney was like talking to a wall. "Dad was out on the dock and there was a loose board. His foot went through and when he tried to stop himself from falling, he twisted in the opposite direction and broke his ankle. Then when he landed on the ground, he did so awkwardly and broke his arm as well."
"Is he going to be ok?"
Francie laughed. "Yeah, but he's already driving Mom nuts. It's his left ankle and right arm so mobility is an issue. You know what they say about doctors making the worst patients?"
Sydney nodded. She did indeed.
"Well my dad is the reason that particular phrase was coined," she laughed, popping the remainder of the croissant in her mouth. "I told Mom that I'd drive up this afternoon."
Francie swallowed the last bit of croissant, an idea popping into her head. "Hey, why don't you come with me? I mean you don't have a trip or anything, right?"
Sydney stared at her friend. Why couldn't her life be about simple choices? "Actually, I might be going out of town."
"What? Where are they sending you this time?"
"It's not really a bank trip. And I'm not even sure I'm going anywhere."
"Ohhh. Is Sydney going out of town with someone new she hasn't told me about?"
Sydney was dumbfounded. "No. Why would you think that?"
Francie stood there for a moment. What wasn't Sydney telling her? Suddenly, it hit her. "Oh My God. It's Picture Frame Guy, isn't it? You're going out of town with him?"
"Who?" she asked as she took a drink of her milk.
"You know, the guy from work who gave you the picture frame at Christmas that you keep saying wasn't a big deal, but then I catch you just holding it while you stare off into space. He finally asked you out, didn't he?" she asked coyly, nudging Sydney's shoulder as she did.
Sydney choked on her milk, the guilty expression frozen on her face. When Francie looked at her, she started laughing. Trying to regain her composure, she shouted, "Fran! Stop laughing!"
"Lighten up, Syd! I'm just kidding," she answered, still laughing.
She could feel the blush spreading across her face. Yes, she was going on a trip and yes, Vaughn would be there, but it wasn't that kind of a trip. Not that she'd mind that kind of a trip. What the...? Where the hell did that come from? she wondered, knowing, with that thought, her face had turned a deeper shade of crimson.
Looking back at Francie, she became even more embarrassed when her friend just pointed at her and doubled over, laughing even harder. If that was possible.
"Um, Francie, what time do you have to leave?" Sydney asked, trying to change the subject.
Francie was still doubled over, although the laughter was slowing. Preferring to continue looking at the floor, rather than at Sydney for fear that she'd start all over again, Francie was finally able to answer her. "I'm just about ready to leave now. All I have to do is put the suitcase in my car and grab a couple of CDs for the drive up."
"Do you need any help?"
Francie finally stood back up, taking a deep, slow breath as she did. When she looked at Sydney, whose face was still beet red, she almost started laughing again, but she was able to refrain herself. "Nah. I can manage."
Patting Sydney's shoulder, a small chuckle escaped. "I think I'll just go get them now and be on my way."
Sydney remained where she was, nodding her assent as Francie left the room. Taking her glass to the sink, she almost dropped it when she heard Francie start laughing again. The blush that had started to go down came back full force. She rinsed the glass out slowly, taking several calming breaths as she did.
Walking to her room, she poked her head through Francie's door. "I'm gonna pack just in case I do have to go. If I do, I'll call and leave a message on your cell."
Francie didn't even raise her head. "Ok."
"Ok, then. I'll see you in a few days. Hope your dad feels better soon."
"Thanks, Syd. And if you have to go anywhere, I hope it's a good trip."
Me too, Sydney thought as she went into her room and got her small suitcase out of her closet.
********
Francie dragged her bag through the living room and placed it by the door. "Hey Syd, do you mind if I take the rest of the croissants with me? Mom and Dad love these."
"Sure. Just leave me one on the counter, ok?" Sydney called from her room.
"Ok," Francie shouted back as she pulled one of them out of the bag, placing it on a napkin.
Seeing Sydney's purse sitting beside the bag, a wild idea ran through Francie's head. Running back into her room, she rummaged through a drawer, finally finding the item she'd been looking for.
Going back to the living room, she grabbed Sydney's purse, opened it, and dumped the remaining contents of the box inside. Moving things around a bit, she covered the packets so that Sydney wouldn't find them. Well, not immediately, she thought wickedly.
Putting the purse back where she found it, Francie stuffed the empty box in the bottom of the trash. She grabbed her keys off the counter and tried to think if she was forgetting anything. Realizing she hadn't, she walked to the door, picked up her suitcase and opened the door. "Hey Syd, I'm going now."
Sydney moved out into the hall. "Drive carefully. Tell your Mom and Dad I said hi."
"Sure thing. Let me know if you go out of town."
Sydney smiled. "I will. See ya," she replied, waving goodbye and heading back inside her room.
Francie walked outside and closed the door behind her. Smiling mischievously, she dropped the bag in the trunk and got in the car. She hoped Sydney did indeed have a good trip.
********
Weiss walked into his apartment and slammed the door behind him. Shaking his head, he tried to push the memories of what he had seen and heard out of his mind, finding that it was impossible.
Grabbing a suitcase from the hall closet, he went into his bedroom and threw it on the partially made bed as he thought about the simple task that Vaughn had left up to him.
"Eric," Vaughn explained when they reached Zoe's so Weiss could pick up his car, "it will only take five minutes. I can't do it. I have to try and coerce my mom to take Donovan and if she agrees, I have to take him over there. I can't stop by the office and pick up the passports. Besides, it's on the way to your apartment."
Yeah, that simple five-minute task had taken him almost 20 minutes all because of Haladki. At the thought of that jackass, he threw the passports in the bottom of the case before he began angrily piling his clothes on top of them.
Stalking into the bathroom, he grabbed his razor, toothbrush, and comb and went back and tossed them on top of his haphazardly packed clothes.
He looked around the room, trying to decide if he was forgetting anything, then decided it wouldn't really matter. Wherever they were going, he was sure he'd be able to buy whatever it was that he'd left behind.
Closing and locking his suitcase, he dragged it out into the living room, depositing it by the door.
He went into the kitchen and grabbed a Coke out of the refrigerator and took a long swallow. He needed caffeine. He knew he'd probably get some sleep on the plane, if for no other reason than sheer exhaustion. It certainly wouldn't be because he was looking forward to pleasant dreams. No, those wouldn't come to him any time soon. Not now.
Without even realizing what he was doing, he grabbed the yo-yo off the counter and began playing with it while he waited for Vaughn to arrive. He was making a cat's cradle as he wandered through the apartment when the phone rang.
This had better be Mike. "Hello?"
"Hey, sweetie."
"Hi, Mom," he replied, his voice flat.
"I--I didn't wake you up, did I? Or, um, disrupt anything?" she asked worriedly.
"No, Mom, trust me, you didn't disrupt anything," he answered as her meaning hit home. "Just waiting for Mike to pick me up. We have to fly out on business this afternoon."
"I suppose you forgot you were coming over for dinner tonight," his mother pointed out. "It's been six weeks since you've been here, Eric."
"Sorry, Mom," he said in a voice that said he wasn't at all sorry.
"And it's been even longer since I saw Zoe. How's she doing?" she asked.
Weiss gulped.
"Please tell me she's not encouraging your silly yo-yo habit anymore," she continued. The cat's cradle crashed to the ground as his mouth opened wide, a silent scream coming from his lips.
"Eric? Dear, are you alright?"
His mother's words rang in his ears. "I'm fine, Mom," he lied. "It was just a really long night."
"Well, you be sure to tell Zoe that she's more than welcome to come over tonight, with or without you," his mother said as Weiss's head began to pound. "Do you want me to call her?"
"Um, no, don't call her," he said. Oh my god. Will this nightmare ever end?
"I don't think she would feel comfortable," he simply said. "I'll just tell her our plans have changed."
"Eric, I'm not that bad, am I?" she asked nervously. "I mean, I really do like her. Besides," she added, "we could spend tonight looking through all of your baby pictures. Maybe I can convince her that I need grandchildren. What do you think?"
Eric felt like she had just shoved a hot knife in his chest and was slowly twisting it around. How could he tell her that they had actually discussed it, once or twice late at night when they were snuggled next to each other? Now there would be no more discussions of the future. There would be no children with her eyes and her smile. He swallowed hard. "Mom, look, I've gotta go, okay? I'll call you when I get back," he said hurriedly, trying to keep his voice from wavering.
"Fine," she said in a resigned voice. "I love you."
"Love you too. 'Bye Mo--"
"Oh, Eric!"
"Yes?"
"Forget the message I left on your machine, okay? I was just asking about dinner tonight, that's all."
"When did you call?"
"Oh, sometime last night. I think it was around ten o'clock, because the early news was coming on as I left the message. Why?"
"Nothing. I just forgot to check the machine," he mumbled.
"Have a safe trip," his mother chirped.
"Thanks. 'Bye, Mom."
"'Bye."
Weiss held the receiver for a few minutes before hanging up the phone. The answering machine. They already knew that Sark was sadistic enough to make sure the microphones were working before he spoke, they knew that Sark knew Vaughn's code phrase for his meetings with Sydney--could Sark have left something on his machine?
Weiss rushed to the living room and picked up the answering machine, a red "5" blinking at him. With a shaking hand, he pressed "Play."
"Five messages. Message one, received at 7:35 p.m.," the mechanical voice said.
"Hey, Mr. Leave A Message After The Beep. I just wanted to let you know that I work for the world's biggest jackass. First thing Monday morning I'm making Devlin transfer me so you can be my boss. You think he'd go for that? Yeah, probably not. Okay, I'll see you later. I love you!"
Zoe. She mentioned when she left the office that she had left a message on his machine at home before she realized he was still buried in work. He had forgotten about it until now.
He hit the "save" button and continued.
"Message two, received at 8:19 p.m."
"Hello, you have been pre-approved for a credit card at our all-new low rate of 18.9%," a computerized voice said. "We will call you again in the next 48 hours. Thank you and have a nice day."
He rolled his eyes and quickly hit "delete."
"Message three, received at 8:42 p.m."
"Hey, me again. Just wanted to say that I hope you finish your work soon, because there's this Victoria's Secret bag in my car that is just dying to make its way into your bedroom." He could hear the smile in her voice, the slight giggle as she teased him. "So hurry home--it'll be worth your while." Pause. "Damn, there's jackass again. Gotta go. Love ya!"
Once again, he hit the "save" button and continued.
"Message four, received at 9:58 p.m."
"Eric, it's your mom. I guess you're out with Zoe tonight--" He quickly hit "delete."
"Message five, received at 10:02 p.m."
"Hey, me again. Sorry about all the messages tonight. Just tried the office and you're not answering that phone or your cell. I hope you've finally finished all of that paperwork for Devlin."
Weiss stared at the machine in horror. 10:02??? Oh my God, this has to be right before . . . before . . . .
"I must have been in Archives," he said out loud in the empty room. "Why didn't I take my cell with me?" he said angrily.
"Anyway, just wanted to let you know about a change in plans. I'll meet you at your place tonight, okay? It seems only fair since you've spent so many nights at my place. And I know you'll be tired after the last few days at the office, so you'll probably sleep better in your own bed. Well," she amended with a giggle, "once I let you go to sleep, that is."
He held the answering machine in his hands, his face inches from the speaker, straining to hear her voice.
"I'm going to assume that you're on your way home but playing your music too loudly to hear your cell ring. If I get there first, I'll let myself in and put that Victoria's Secret bag to use . . . damn," she muttered.
Uh-oh.
"Sorry about that, Eric," she apologized. "I'm outside the safe house--don't know if I mentioned that before. I was all set to leave when jackass made me copy more stuff for his pointless Monday morning meeting that no one attends. But I promise, I was a very careful girl," she ended on a teasing note. "No bad guys in sight, just a silly woman who must have left her car keys inside and is now locked out of her car. Crap. Johansson and Parker are never going to let me live this down... Oh well. I'll say good-bye for now, since I can't get a signal inside and I'm sure your machine is going to cut me off in a second anyway. I love you! Hurry home!" she teased. The message clicked off, and Weiss jumped into action, repeatedly hitting the "save" button.
As he sank to the ground, the answering machine cradled in his hands, he wondered if his heart would ever feel whole again.
He was still sitting there, tears streaming down his face, when Vaughn burst through the front door.
"Eric, where the hell are you? You've gotta remember to keep your cell phone on--" he stopped short. "Eric? Are you okay?" Good one, Mike. Of course he's not okay--he's just been to hell and back.
Weiss remained silent as he wiped his eyes.
"The cab's waiting," Vaughn said.
Weiss stood up and returned the answering machine to its resting place. He carefully removed the cassette as if it were the most precious, most fragile thing he'd ever touched. Placing it in his front pocket, he grabbed another tape from the package next to the machine and put it in, closing the lid when he finished.
"I have the passports and tickets," he told his friend. His gaze hardened.
"Let's go get that bastard."
********