Chapter Four: Spy Games

Sydney took a deep breath as she closed the door to her mother's office, horrified to realize that she was shaking. Had her mother noticed? Had her mother been able to sense her nervousness, smell the fear she was wearing like a cheap perfume?

She was going to be sick. She was literally going to be sick. "I'm sorry, Mother. It won't happen again, Mother." She shuddered. She should win an Academy Award for having to act respectful and subservient to that woman.

The thing that made her the sickest, though? Not everything in that room had been an act. She had been quite satisfied with the way things had gone with Michael the night before. Her lover, her mother had called him. Sydney smiled. She supposed that was what he was, now.

God, she was fucked up. For as pleased as she was at how she'd played things with him the night before, he could still make her giggle and blush like a school girl. She smiled as she thought of the way he'd stroked her cheek…the feel of his lips on her neck…lower… He was so strong, so kind, and she was so in love with him. She'd told him so the night before, even before the lovemaking.

He'd been heading to the shower, and she'd been heading out to do the shopping. She smiled and hugged herself at the thought. Heading out to do the shopping. It sounded so domestic. She loved it. For as much as she hated the way she'd found him the night before, she was glad that she'd been able to make it better. That she'd been able to take care of him for once, instead of the other way around.

"I'll make you something to eat," she'd said as he'd started towards the shower.

"Oh," he'd said, running a hand back through his hair. "I don't think I have any food at home."

"So I'll go buy some things. And I'll make dinner, and clean up around here."

He'd smiled, and his eyes had softened. He'd liked the sound of it, too. The domesticity of it. The normalcy. He'd said it then. Said it first. "I love you, Sydney."

She'd returned his smile, though she'd wanted to cry. He was so sweet. "I love you, too, Michael. So much."

In the morning, she had left without waking him. She hoped he wasn't upset about that. It was never nice to wake up alone when you'd fallen asleep with someone beside you. She'd left a note: I had an amazing time last night. Be back this afternoon. I love you. Nice, she thought. Something to make him feel all warm and fuzzy while she was off selling her soul to the enemy.

Pretending to sell her soul. She was just pretending to be on her mother's side, after all. It was just a hard thing to remember right then, when she and Michael only knew that they wanted to take down her mother's operation, and not how they would do it.

But at least things were going according to plan so far. Part One had gone well, though she hadn't even known precisely what she was planning at that point. When she'd heard that Michael had been asked to leave the CIA, she had gotten in touch with her mother without really knowing why. Her mother had suggested that they talk in person, and a driver had picked Sydney up, blindfolded her, and taken her to her mother's headquarters, taking so many twists and turns along the way that Sydney would never have been able to memorize the route. Well, maybe she could have. Truth be told, she hadn't really tried.

"Well," her mother had said when Sydney had told her she was ready to join her side. "I'm pleased, of course. But I'd like to ask why."

And Sydney had held her head high, brown eyes full of fierce determination. "I think you can help me as much as I can help you," she told her. "I think you can help me bring down SD-6 much more quickly and efficiently than the CIA can."

Her mother raised her eyebrows. "Oh, really? And what makes you think that?"

Try as she might, Sydney hadn't been able to keep from looking away. "The CIA doesn't want Vaughn working for them anymore," she said. "And I don't want to work for the CIA."

For just a moment, Irina looked genuinely surprised, then her face returned to its usual expression. Blank. Impassive. "So will Mr. Vaughn be joining us, as well?"

It was then that Sydney had faltered. She'd wanted to say something like, "Only if you decide he'll be valuable to us." But of course Irina would have known that was a lie. If Sydney had refused to work for the CIA without Vaughn, why would Irina believe she would work for her?

And she thought of telling her mother, "He will if I ask him to," but at that point, she wasn't sure if that was true, either. Irina had killed his father. What could possibly convince him to work for such a woman? Did Sydney even want to convince him to work for her?

That's when it had hit her. They wouldn't just take down SD-6.

They would take down Irina's operation from the inside.

It had been hard to keep the smile from her face after that. Her mother hadn't seemed to notice.

"You haven't even talked to Mr. Vaughn about this, have you," she said scathingly.

Sydney looked at her confidently. "It doesn't matter," she said. "He will if I ask him to."

Irina smirked. "Because he loves you so much." She said love as if it were an imaginary thing.

"I--" Sydney began, but Irina would have none of it.

"When has he ever given you the impression that he has those kind of feelings for you?" she demanded. "I've been watching the two of you, Sydney. He's never kissed you, never laid a hand on you except to offer comfort. If I were to judge, I'd guess that he thinks of you as nothing more than a co-worker. At best, a friend."

For a moment, Sydney was speechless. Could that be true? "He got fired for breaking too many rules to help me," she whispered.

Irina shrugged. "So he feels protective of you. I don't think that means he's ready to work for a woman he hates just to be with you."

And then Sydney's resolve had returned, and a smile had flickered across her face. Because Vaughn wouldn't be doing it just to be with her. There were better reasons. Most of which Irina couldn't know a thing about. "You know what?" she told her mother. "If he feels anything at all for me, he'll do it. Because as of the minute the CIA gave him the axe, he officially has nothing to lose. Nothing to live for. Except me."

Irina actually laughed, a cold, heartless laugh. "Please. He has plenty to live for. There are other games to be played besides spy games, other professions besides intelligence that I'm sure he'd be well suited for. Other women besides you."

In spite of herself, Sydney had felt her blood run cold.

"He probably can't see that now," Irina continued. "But he will in time."

That had stopped Sydney short. Maybe that was true. Maybe Vaughn didn't need what she was about to give him. Would her desire to have him with her always keep him from living a different life, a better life?

She thought about that question for a long moment. And she looked her mother square in the eye when she gave her the answer.

"So I guess I'll have to get to him quickly, won't I?"