Tangled Lies

by Tayce Skye

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Rating: PG-ish.

Spoilers: All of Season 1 and maybe the first episode or two of Season 2 (based on info from spoiler sites).

Summary: Post ATY. Will be AU after Season 2 starts. My version of what might happen in (and after) Taipei. Last time on "Tangled Lies"... Irina got caught, Sydney's distraught. Vaughn is numb, Tyler acts dumb. Sark sees something bad, Katrina gets extremely mad. And this is why I don't write poems.

Pairings: Major Sydney/Vaughn.

Distribution: Sure, but don't forget to email me first at teague1350@hotmail.com. I'd also appreciate a link.

Disclaimer: I own this story along with Katrina Hunt. Alias is not mine. It belongs to JJ Abrams, Bad Robot, ABC, etc. No copyright infringement was intended.

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Katrina stands calmly on the sidewalk, her small hands gripping the weapon at her side. She lifts the gun and pulls the trigger three times.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Her aim is perfect and the Buick is sent into a spin. There is another movement, ignored until now. A little girl. Freckles, bare feet, huge eyes. The toddler chases a giant red ball.

"Get back! No. Stop!"

"No, stop. Stop! No!" She bolts up in bed. The door swings open, light floods into the room. A familiar voice breaks the silence and a gentle hand strokes her sweat-drenched hair.

"It's okay, Trin. Just a dream. It's gonna be alright," Michael says soothingly. She suddenly feels cold and wraps her arms around his neck.

But it's not going to be okay. And it wasn't just a dream. The little girl with blonde pigtails, dressed in yellow gingham. She was real once, years ago. The first person Katrina killed. A ghost who has haunted her sleep since that fateful day in April.

* * *

Michael stepped out of the bathroom and was hit with the delectable scent of blueberry pancakes. His cousin was in the kitchen. She handed him a plate.

"Good morning, Mike. Help yourself."

"Great! Yesterday it was French toast and last night you made cream of broccoli soup. What's next?"

"Pasta, maybe? Depends on how much money you're giving me for groceries. You sleep okay last night?"

"Actually, I had some things on my mind and I wasn't even asleep when you... uh, yeah." His face turned about three shades redder.

"Sorry about that. Stupid nightmares." Katrina was refreshingly cheerful. Unbeknownst to Michael, she had gone through his briefcase while he showered and found out that Irina Derevko was incarcerated.

Of course, the teenager wasn't sure what this meant. Would she work for Alexander instead? Nothing was certain until someone from the organization got in touch with her. Katrina smothered her breakfast in maple syrup and took a gigantic bite.

"Hey, pace yourself! When you first got here, I thought sharing a bathroom would be hard. Now, I'm worried you're gonna eat up my paycheck," Michael joked. She rolled her eyes and gestured at the clock.

"Oh! I'm gonna be late. See you later! And here's a fifty for food." He slapped a crumpled bill on the table, pressed a kiss into her temple, and raced out the door. Katrina shrugged, pocketing the money. Then she slowly finished her pancakes.

* * *

When Sydney got the call from Joey's Pizza, a strange mix of emotions ran through her. The most prominent one was dread. Not that seeing Michael Vaughn was ever a terrible thing, but she was scheduled to talk to her mother today. Meetings with Irina weren't known for their predictability.

After swapping banter with Francie and making a plausible excuse, she arrived at the warehouse. The place was comforting to Sydney, a constant in her hectic life. She sees Vaughn.

He is slumped over. Panic invades the previously tranquil atmosphere.

Not again. Please, not again. Her mind is a broken record, the same thoughts over and over. I love you. Never got to say it. I love you. Please, don't go. Don't leave me like everyone else. I love you. Please...

Sydney rushes over to him. He sighs. Relief washed over her. Alive. Just sleeping. Not gone. I love you. I'm going to love you forever. Never gonna leave you. Not again.

She lifts his head up tentatively. So beautiful. Those wrinkles on his forehead, ever present. Never realized how sexy they were. I know now. I love him. Love, love, love...

"Sydney..." Her hand almost drops. He continues to doze. And is, apparently, dreaming about her.

"I love you, Agent Michael Vaughn. Do you love me?"

"Sydney..." Her handler smiles but is still asleep. His facial muscles twitch slightly and those adorable dimples make a surprise appearance.

She gazes at his face. He loves me. I think he loves me. Their mouths meet and the rest of the world melts away.

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Michael:

I've turned into an insomniac. Well, it was just one uneasy night, but still. I felt like a zombie.

When I got to the warehouse, I realized that I forgot to stop for coffee. Bad move. My eyelids felt like bricks, so heavy. I told myself, just one minute. I'll rest them for one minute.

And I had the most wonderful dream. There was a beautiful woman. Sydney. She came to me and said, "I love you."

We were kissing. Soft lips that crushed eagerly against mine. She tasted sweet. Raspberries, I think. Our tongues danced, desperately searching for more. Hands, hungry to touch. Struggling for more contact.

Silky hair, delicate skin. Moaning with desire, needing each other. Jacket, gone. Blazer, lost. Breaking apart for oxygen only to crash together once more, passions even higher.

Bliss.

And I woke up. There was no one. My suit was more rumpled than usual.

Tried calling her cell phone. She was in traffic. Ten minutes later, and here we are. Sitting across from each other. Sydney seems flustered. I don't know what to say.

I wish it had been real.

* * *

Sydney:

When Vaughn started to stir, I ran. It's almost funny, I can take on three armed Russian mobsters but not the man I love.

He called me, sounding weary. I lied to him. Hate that, hate lying. Especially to Vaughn. 'Cause I love him. Love, love, love...

I did return to the warehouse, praying I didn't seem embarrassed. Don't think it worked, he kept looking at me funny.

Does he know?

Told him he looked tired. He says, a little. Mentions that he had a great dream, though. I think I blushed, which is a definite no-no. Bad Sydney. I want bad... uh oh, did it again. Inappropriate Vaughn thoughts. That holster doesn't help matters...

This is not good. I mean, the actual kissing itself was fantastic. Tingles and turns. Spinning and sparks. Pleasure, paradise, and perfection.

Bliss.

However, the ramifications--not so great. For one thing, it almost went to the next, highly forbidden, level. Plus, turning bright red every time we meet doesn't help my complexion. All this has regressed me to my high school days. Blush and look away shyly. Blush and...

And logic. What if Devlin finds out? What if Sloane finds out? What if Dad finds out? Don't know which is worse. Actually, I do. Whichever results in Dead Vaughn is the worst. He needs to be alive, with me. Or else, I'll die.

I should feel guilty about kissing him. And I do. But I don't regret it. How can I regret it when I've been longing for this feeling since forever? When I want more?

I love him. Love, love, love...

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Jack:

How in the world am I going to handle with this? I already have to deal with my wife who, by the way, is supposed to be dead. And now our only child is putting herself in danger.

At least Michael Vaughn is a man of his word. So far, Sydney's the only one who has engaged in anything. In fact, he thinks it was all a dream.

But I know the truth. I was watching.

I was watching, as his head drooped and my daughter entered.

I was watching, as her face contorted with horror only to relax when she discovered he was only napping.

I was watching, as she loved him and two people joined together in an intimate moment.

Now, I watch silently as they talk. I don't know what to do.

Sydney will always be my little girl and I love her. I want her to have the fairy tale ending, complete with a knight in shining armor that rides up on a white horse. I want her to live happily ever after in a castle surrounded by clouds.

But she can't have that. This may be the only ending she'll ever get.

I don't want her to suffer, like me. If she falls in love, I can't guarantee a single thing.

That's what scares me more than anything else.

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Author's Note: In the next chapter, Jack confronts Sydney. Sydney interrogates Irina. Will questions Francie and talks with Syd. But our favorite characters are in the dark about several important developments.

Questions, comments, suggestions, speculation, constructive criticism... I'll take what I can get. I really appreciate feedback! It's like sugar... highly addictive and I absolutely need it!

Shelly, Shelly, where can you be? My beta reader went AWOL so this chapter was edited thanks to Jannah. I'm extremely grateful for your opinions... Baja sounds so good right about now!