Chapter Six: Where's Your Heart Now?
Sydney rolled over in bed the next morning, smiling sadly at her sleeping husband. She'd cried herself to sleep the night before, and he'd rubbed her back, an action that had nearly broken her heart. He loved her. Even if he didn't like her so much just then.
She leaned over to kiss his forehead, and his eyes fluttered open. "Hey," she whispered, smoothing his hair back.
"Hey." He didn't smile at her, but he didn't get up and walk away, either. "Did you sleep well?"
"Not really," she said truthfully. "You?"
"Not really."
They lay there in silence for a moment, not touching.
"So you're really going to do this?" he asked. "Run the Organization?"
"Yeah," she said, propping herself up on one elbow to look at him. She knew her words hurt him, but she wasn't willing to delude him anymore-- humor him, like he'd said the night before. "I really am."
He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, then opened it again. "Syd, I just think--"
"Don't start, Michael," she interrupted with a sigh. It was time for him to accept that things were the way they were. There was no escape. Never an escape.
"No, just hear me out," he insisted. "Sydney, you're in charge of the Organization now. Maybe you can't take it down, but you can change it. You can use it to do whatever you want."
"Oh, Michael, I--"
"Like bring down SD-6," he interrupted. "Syd, you can do that. You have the resources to do that."
"I know," Sydney said, eyes brimming with tears. She'd thought about that sometimes. Sending in a mole, like she had been. Slowly but surely breaking down their defenses. She'd thought about it, but something had always stopped her. Maybe it hadn't seemed important enough to her anymore. "I just--"
"Just what? Sydney, this beaten attitude of yours-- it isn't like you," Michael said, green eyes full of fire. "SD-6 is still up and running. The Alliance is stronger than ever. The same would be true even if we were still with the CIA, Sydney, but I can guarantee if we were back there, you'd still be in there fighting."
"I know," Sydney whispered, a single tear escaping down her cheek. That was true. Back in the CIA, she'd never have given up hope that she'd bring SD-6 down. As long as Michael was by her side.
"What I want to know is, what happened to that girl with the crazy red hair who stormed into the CIA ready to take on the world? The girl who sat in that blood drive van and told me she'd hand me SD-6 by Christmas?"
"I don't know, Michael," she said tiredly, standing and walking to the vanity table mirror. She looked so old all of a sudden. So tired. And actually, she did know. That girl had grown up. Her handler had gotten kicked out of the CIA, and she'd followed him. Talked him into joining her mother's Organization with the promise that someday they'd watch it crumble. Watched as that dream turned to rubbish. Watched as she became someone she despised. "I was naïve then. I didn't understand a lot of things."
"No, you didn't," Michael agreed. "But your heart was in the right place, Sydney. Where is it now?"
Sydney turned and walked back to the bed, touching her husband's cheek tenderly. It was a good question. One she didn't feel quite prepared to answer. "You always thought I was capable of doing anything."
"You are," he said, taking her hand and kissing it. "Now go do it."
She smiled. If he wanted her to, she would. She'd do anything he asked. Maybe the problem was that for the past ten years, she'd been the one doing all of the asking. Maybe that was where they'd gotten off track. "Will you help me?"
He pulled her down to him and kissed her lips. "Of course I'll help you."
Sydney perched on the bed, smiling down at him, feeling better than she had in a long time. This was the way they worked, her and Michael. She was always afraid she'd drag him down with her. Sometimes she did. But he always pulled her back up.
"What's your plan for today, baby?" she whispered, leaning down to kiss his forehead.
"Oh," he said, a smile crossing his face. "I told Jack I'd take him to the park, that we'd shoot some baskets. Want to come?"
"No thanks," she responded. "But do you mind taking Emily with you, too? I want to do some shopping, buy some new clothes for our trip."
"Sure, no problem," Michael replied, sitting up and running a hand back through his hair.
"Take a coloring book or something to keep her occupied," Sydney advised. "Or she'll be under your feet the whole time."
"Got it," Michael said, leaning over to kiss her before standing and heading for the shower. "Maybe we can do something tonight, take the kids to a movie. Or we could rent one, and I could make dinner."
"Sound good," she said, rising from the bed. "Go ahead and take your shower, I'll get the kids up."
"Oh, let them sleep, there's no hurry," Michael said. "You should go back to sleep, too."
"Maybe," she agreed, lying back on the bed as he headed for the shower. Maybe things really would be okay. She and Michael would go on their trip, and when they came back, they could start working on their plan to bring down SD-6 and the Alliance.
The Vaughn family got around slowly that morning. Sydney made pancakes and they sat around the kitchen table; she and Michael read the paper while Jack teased his sister and drowned his pancakes in syrup. Sydney thought it felt wonderful. Normal. Domestic.
Michael helped her with the dishes, then kissed her goodbye before leaving with the kids. She took a long, luxurious shower and dressed, humming to herself as she got behind the wheel of her car--
--And felt the nose of a gun press into her temple.
"Drive."
Sydney should have been scared, and part of her was. Except she'd have known that voice anywhere, even after ten years.
"Daddy?"