Author: Edele Lane
E-mail: Edyn04@aol.com
Rating: PG-13/R (possibly)
Disclaimer: Everything "Alias"-related does not belong to me. It belongs to J.J. Abrams and probably 900 other people associated with him.
Archive: Nowhere yet, but if you want it, take it and then e-mail me so I'll know.
Feedback: Please;x
Summary: It is two years after SD-6 has been taken down, but Sloane is still alive. S/W romance, suspicious Francie, and heated confrontations between Sydney and other characters.
Dedication: This is for Ash who reads each part before it is posted here and is undoubtedly my best (and favorite) critic.
ONE
Sydney Bristow paced the hardwood floor of the apartment she shared with her best friend, Francie Calfo. She grabbed the cordless phone from the kitchen counter and placed a thumb on the first digit of her friend Will Tippin's phone number. She stopped herself and returned the phone to its home on the counter.
Sydney folded her arms over her chest almost defiantly and continued to pace. Thoughts zoomed through her mind and she seized the opportunity to ruminate each.
She figured she should call Will and fill him in on what she had learned less than an hour ago. She glimpsed the steaming cup of TheraFlu she had made and sighed. Then she once again swiped the phone from the counter but paused to reflect before she proceeded.
She had just gotten out of the shower when the phone rang. Assuming it was Francie calling from the restaurant to remind her they were having lunch, she picked it up.
Hey Francie, I'll be— she started.
A male voice on the other end cut her off. Joey's Pizza?
Sydney's heart thudded loudly in her chest. She started to choke up. Why was this happening now, two years after SD-6 had been destroyed and she'd officially resigned from the CIA? she said through her tears, wrong number. She disconnected the call and threw the phone as hard as she could. It hit the wall that faced her approximately ten feet from where she stood. The object hit the wall and broke into a few pieces. Sydney angrily pounded the wall adjacent to her before collapsing to her knees and surrendering to the sobs.
Somehow she had managed to get herself dressed. She picked up the pieces of the phone on her way to the front door. She grabbed her keys and marched out to her maroon Toyota Land Cruiser. She tossed the parts onto the passenger's seat carelessly and climbed inside, slamming the door loudly.
She started the engine and backed out of the driveway. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and called Francie. As the line on the other end rang, Sydney busied herself with trying to invent a reason for why she would have to cancel lunch.
came Francie's voice on the other end.
Hey. Look, uh— Sydney began.
Syd, where are you? You're late. Francie was clearly pissed.
Sydney cleared her throat. Um, I think I may have a case of the twenty-four hour flu. She tried to effect a groggy-sounding voice to support her claim.
All right, Francie said, as if she could care less.
Sydney continued in the groggy voice. I'm going right now to get some—you know—TheraFlu or something to—
Francie cut her off again. Yeah, yeah, fine. Hope you feel better. I have to get back to work, so I'll talk to you later.
Right, later, yeah.
Francie disconnected the call. Sydney sighed deeply, returned her cell phone to her pocket, and her attention back to the road. She may have learned—and grown accustomed to—how to lie through her teeth, but not being forced to do so in two years made it all the more difficult to accomplish now.
A tear stung her eye and she wiped it away with her sleeve. A few minutes later, she arrived at the warehouse. Once inside, she spotted Vaughn seated on a table. Vaughn looked up and slid off the table to greet Sydney.
he said in a voice that didn't reflect the slightest hint that anything bad was happening.
What the hell is going on? I quit two years ago, why am I being called in here? Sydney spat out angrily.
Vaughn sighed and motioned for her to take a seat.
No, I don't think so. I'm not going to follow the pathetic cliché. I'll stand.
Okay, then I'll sit, Vaughn said, resuming his position on the table.
Can we just get to the point, please? I already had to lie to Francie about why I couldn't meet her for lunch, so there better be a damn good reason why I'm standing here with you instead of sitting at a table with my friend in her restaurant, looking at a menu.
Vaughn looked a bit hurt and decided to get through the meeting as quickly and painlessly as possible. Sloane's still alive, he said flatly.
Sydney narrowed her eyes. Sloane is what?
He's still alive, Vaughn repeated. We called you, because once we iron out a plan to dispose of him so he can't resurrect SD-6—assuming he hasn't already—we figured you would like to, well, do the honors. A smile began to play on his lips.
Sydney cleared her throat. What do you need a plan for? How hard is it to go to his house, break in, and stick a bullet in his head? Where does he live? I'll go do it right now.
Vaughn shook his head. Sydney, you know as well as I do that it's not that simple. We don't know yet what kind of security set-up he has at his mansion.
Look, Vaughn, I was a spy for God's sake, I learned how to deal with risk-taking. Just point me in the direction of his house—I'm assuming he moved from where he was before—and I'll figure something out.
Vaughn started, shaking his head again.
Vaughn, just shut up with your bullshit, Sydney told him angrily. I don't want this job to take longer than it has to because I am not interested in making this a career—again.
Vaughn started again.
Vaughn, I told you— Sydney protested.
Sydney! Just shut up and listen to me, Goddamn it! Vaughn yelled.
Sydney was at a loss for words. In all the years she and Vaughn had worked together, never once had he yelled at her. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared into his eyes, as if to force him to continue.
Just hear me out, all right?
Sydney turned her head slightly and rolled her eyes.
I saw that.
Ask me if I care.
Vaughn licked his lips. Okay, do you—
Sydney muttered under her breath. I know that not being able to get to the point quickly is one of your trademarks, but could you just do it, please, so I can get the hell out of here?
We have a team examining his mansion as we speak for any kind of traps that you'll need to avoid. Once that's done, we'll send you to kill him, Vaughn said simply. Simplicity was another signature Vaughn trademark.
Okay, good, Sydney commented. And I expect I won't hear from the CIA until everything is planned out and that after I complete the task, I won't hear from them at all?
If that's what you want, then, yeah, Vaughn replied.
What do you mean, if that's what I want'? Sydney questioned.
No, I mean, if— he sighed. Not the CIA per se, but—
'But' what?
What I'm trying to say is, remember a while back when you said you wanted me in your life—outside of work? I know we haven't actually spoken in two years, but I was just wondering if—maybe—you still wanted something like that. Vaughn lowered his eyes to the floor and shoved his hands into his pockets.
Sydney smiled a little then sighed. I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but, I really don't think that would be a good idea. I mean, it's not you, it's just— She sighed again. —the whole work thing. I just want to be completely devoid of anything CIA-related. Somehow I just think that if we—I don't know—hang out, or go out, or just spend time together, that I might consider rejoining the CIA and I really don't want to do that. And also, if you're thinking about quitting for me, I don't want that either, because it's a big part of your life, and I don't want you to throw that all away because of me and my ridiculous reasoning for all of this. I'm sorry.
No, no, I understand. I mean, it probably wouldn't have worked out anyway. But, just for the sake of—I don't know—let's just keep the option open. In case you ever change your mind. He smiled.
Sydney smiled back. We'll do that—just in case. Listen, I have to get going. She laughed a little. I uh, kind of broke the phone when I got the call. I have to go out and get a new one.
Vaughn laughed along with her and stepped forward to give her a parting hug. So I'll get this all planned and then give you a call.
Sydney said, hugging him back. After a few seconds, she stepped back. I'll see you.
See you.
Sydney walked out to her Land Cruiser and hopped in. She started the engine and headed in the direction of a local department store to get a new phone and some TheraFlu.
Sydney snapped back to reality. She took the cup of TheraFlu that was resting on the counter near where the cordless phone had been resting and dumped it in the sink.