Years later, when the grandchildren would ask him, "Tell us again, the
story of how you met Grandmama!", he always began it like this.
It started out like any "normal" day at the CIA. Meaning, the usual: crisis after crisis, the latest internet joke (not that anyone told him the joke directly), backbiting, gossip about who was dating whom, complaining about the boss, chatting about last night's episode of Survivor, and who got wounded on the last terrorist infiltration: you know, just your regular coffee hour conversation. Of course, if he had bothered to go to coffee hour with everyone else, he might have had a clue, might not have been blind sided. Blind sided by a flick of fuschia, no less.
That flick of fuschia going around the corner. It must have been some presentiment of disaster -- that was all he saw out of the corner of his eye -- the edge of what must have been a skirt and he knew, knew, what was coming. "Aw, geez, not her, not her." There was only one woman at this level of the Agency who would wear such a color.
The skirt had gone into the conference room where he was to meet with Sydney, Devlin, Kendall, Vaughn, Weiss and assorted other agents. They were meeting about what they hoped would be the final planning stages for the destruction of SD-6. Syd had now been a double agent for over three years and he, he had trouble remembering when he wasn't leading a double life. Devlin had told him he was bringing in a few specialists from other offices to deal with the (and with the grandkids, he always just used Syd's favorite euphemism) "bad guys." And this woman wearing hot pink was, he just knew it, going to be one of those specialists. A specialist in "persuading" people to give up their secrets.
And that was what made him nervous.
Here the kids would always giggle, "Grandpapa, you never get nervous!" He always had to reply, "The only person who ever makes me nervous is your grandmother. She's scary!" They would giggle again and say, "Oh, no! You are the scary one. Daddy says so." And here he'd have to shoot a dirty look at their father and say, "Oh, really? We'll have to see about that," in an arch tone, just to make the kids laugh harder.
Coming down the hall, he heard Syd squeal, "Viv! Are you in on this mission? I am so excited!" Great, now he'd never be able to get rid of her.
And then from Vaughn, "Tante Viv -- what are you doing here?"
Syd said to her non-boyfriend, "Viv is your aunt?"
"Yes. I'm his mother's sister. Sorry we couldn't tell you before. But once people see us together, there's no longer any need for secrecy. Our eyes give it away." Viv said with a smile. Of course, SHE was smiling, (he could hear it in her voice). She didn't have to put up with herself. Wait a minute - did that make any sense?
"Actually my father recruited her into the Agency," Vaughn said.
"You're kidding! What a small world -- my dad was one of the senior officers assigned to train her. That's how I know her. Of course, I thought she was just another airplane parts salesperson," she laughed.
"No way!" Vaughn said in amused shock. "I didn't know that."
This was as good a moment as any to walk in. "As usual, Agent Vaughn, there is much you don't know. Actually, entire volumes could be written on what you don't know. " Well, that felt good, anyway. What good was a day without annoying the crap out of Michael Vaughn? One had to take the small pleasures in life....And finally forced himself to look at the woman he knew would just...
God, she was still gorgeous. Black hair, green eyes full of mischief. She was years older than the last time he had seen her and still looked fabulous. He knew he had put on a few pounds. But the color of that suit? Maybe, if he were lucky, he could develop blindness from looking at that hot pink though -- there was still hope. Well, he had to say something.
"Vivienne".
"Jonathan," she growled in a perfect imitation of his voice and with an identical cold stare. Syd giggled,Vaughn smiled. The other agents looked shocked, someone had mocked Jack Bristow? And was still alive? He knew it. Her mission in life was to drive him nuts.
"Really, Devlin, I did not need this." Had he actually said that aloud? See, this was what he hated about her -- she got him to open his mouth before he actually considered what words were going to trip out. He had so little control around her.
"Need what, Jack?" Devlin asked, oh so innocently.
"Viv here -- she can't ...."
"What, Jack? You think I can't do the job?" Viv confronted him.
"Really, Jack, there is no justification for that idea. You know Viv is one of the best. I mean, after all, you trained her and then worked with her, on and off, for several years. " Devlin said complacently.
"I know she excels at her work but..."
"But what?"
Couldn't he just scream, "But she drives me nuts! She jokes around and doesn't take life and the Agency as seriously as she should, she wears bright colors and worse, she isn't afraid of me!" Really, just once, he'd like to lose it. He could feel his face turning red, with anger he convinced himself, while everyone just stared and waited for the answer to Devlin's question.
"But nothing. It's my problem and I need to get over it. Excuse me. Let's just get on with it," he finally growled and sat down at the conference table. Everyone else exchanged glances and sat down as well. Did he get points for exercising such tremendous self discipline and not running down the hall screaming? Maybe he could do this, maybe it wasn't as bad as it was before. After all, they were both older, right?
The rest of the meeting went just as he knew it would. He had, after all, been in countless meetings with Viv before, though not for the last several years. She never strayed from the point, always asked incisive questions, gave clear answers, contributed good suggestions, but and this was what made him nuts, she infused humor whenever she could. He always thought it was inappropriate, but he could see how it relaxed everyone and made the team more cohesive. As lacking in self awareness as he was, Jack knew his frustration with her stemmed in part from jealousy. He was much more relaxed in the field, but tensed up at the office. Viv fit in everywhere and always found it easy to fit in while he so often felt like an outsider.
Then he felt guilty for his jealousy. She had so much about which to feel bitter and yet had never let herself choose that route.
Afterwards, Syd was introducing Viv to some the agents who had not needed to be at the meeting, but would have reason to interact with her. She was finishing up with Vicki by telling her that, "This is the woman who sends me the 'SpyBarbie on Assignment' pictures." Vicki shrieked with delight, "I love those! Will you do any while you're in LA?"
And that was another thing he just could not stand. She not only had a hobby -- where did she get the time? -- but it was such a girly hobby. She collected dolls, not only dolls, but Barbies! Couldn't she collect knives or guns or other instruments of death and destruction, like a normal agent?
Oh no, not her! Once Viv had been informed that Syd was a double agent, she had begun sending Syd digital images via the CIA secure lines of "SpyBarbie on Assignment". She had customized a doll and dressed it up in costumes and wigs, according to what Syd told her she wore on a particular mission. She would then create a little vignette complete with furniture, accessories and other people, depicting some point or several moments in the mission. When it was finished she would send jpeg images to Syd, complete with captions. He hated to admit it, but they were often pretty funny. His personal favorite was the vignette of the big red ball in Taipei, but instead of the ball, she had used a large stuffed Clifford the Big Red Dog and had it chasing Syd down the hall. He'd had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing aloud. Too bad all of the images and vignettes had to be destroyed for security reasons. Ye gods, had he actually thought that? He looked around and no one was staring at him, so at least he hadn't said it aloud. Thank God for small favors.
He still wanted to know, "Vivienne, can I ask you how you found out about Syd being an agent, anyway?"
Devlin interjected, "C'mon Jack, you know her sources of information are as good as your own. In fact, she is the only person who has ever even come close to your ability to gather information. Surely we have enough to do right now that we don't need to rehash ancient history."
Viv smiled. "Yes, and Jack, I manage to acquire my information without bugging every bathroom in the place too." Fabulous, now everyone was looking at him funny. Thankfully she laughed, so everyone thought she was just joking.
Argh. Could he clamp his jaw shut any tighter? His blood pressure must be through the roof. He was going to need to play squash tonight to wind down. Maybe he could con Sloane into a game. That would be good way to kill some tension and with any luck Sloane might drop dead of a heart attack.
Here Syd would always insert, "Kids, keep in mind that we don't actually wish anyone dead." Jack would always roll his eyes at her behind the kids' back at that notion. Syd had never really been ruthless enough for their line of work. It had always struck him as odd that Syd, who had so much field experience and had seen so much evil, could be so squeamish about termination, while Vaughn, who was so laid back and relatively naïve, had no problems pulling a trigger at point blank range. People. Go figure.
Well, he played lots of squash. Sloane survived, too bad. The plans proceeded along for weeks and weeks, about as smoothly as could be expected given the fact that Irina, who had escaped custody earlier during a transfer, had dropped out of sight. Everyone was nervous. Everyone except Vivienne. She kept saying that Irina's fatal flaw - her arrogance - would be her downfall; it was just a matter of time. Syd was getting antsy about Sark who was still working with SD6; she had endless questions about his origins, motivations and goals. She and Vivienne spent a goodly amount of time trying to trace information on him.
Eventually, Vivienne took a trip to Ireland and apparently found out something. He could tell when he saw her face when she came into the Op Center. She looked sad and angry at the same time. She quickly controlled her facial muscles when she saw him.
"What is it?" he found himself asking quietly.
"What are you talking about?" she parried.
"Vivienne, don't try and fool me, of all people."
"Jack, I just need some time to process what I've learned. I am going to tell Sydney first, since she was the one who instigated this intel op. Then we'll decide what to tell you and everyone else."
"What do you mean, decide 'what' to tell? Are you planning on not telling the whole truth?"
"Jack Bristow, do you even know the meaning of 'the whole truth'?" And they were off arguing as always, and it was only later that he realized that she had effectively diverted him from the issue of the intel. He did not recall his questions until it was too late.
Well, he did not really want to get into the story of Sark with the kids. Luckily, they knew what came next and prompted him. "Tell us about when you saw her in THE black dress." Vivienne would always say, "I will never understand what it was about that black dress." Jack would always respond, "I know and let's keep it that way. You know too much already. But you still have that dress don't you?" "Like I'd ever get rid of it?" she'd laugh.
"Is THAT what you are wearing?" Jack roared as Vivienne came into the Op Center several weeks after her trip to Ireland. They were meeting at the center before heading out for tonight's mission. Then he heard himself. Oh, no. Had he actually raised his voice? Maybe he did need to see Dr. Barnett again about control issues. Of course, she thought he was too obsessed about control, while he thought he needed to exercise more control, so maybe that wasn't the best idea. Viv interrupted his thoughts.
"What's wrong with what I am wearing? It's just a simple black dress. You said you didn't want anything 'flamboyant'." Viv inquired looking down at her "simple" black dress.
In his mind it was simply devastating. It was shocking to see her in black, when she was so fond of bright colors. She called them jewel tones; he called them "bright." (Agents don't wear bright colors - wasn't that in some rule book somewhere? He'd have to ask Vaughn - he thought the kid slept with the friggin' rule book under his pillow.) But in the silky black dress, with only discreet diamonds at her neck and ears, you saw Vivienne, not her clothes. In his opinion, you saw a little too much of Vivienne with that neckline and the slit up the right thigh. Great, if he had known how she would look if she took his advice and dressed in "normal" colors, he would have kept his big mouth shut.
"You know, Jack, you've had an issue with Viv's appearance ever since you met her. Isn't it time you got over it?" Devlin interrupted.
"What do you mean, you've had an issue with my appearance?" Viv demanded. Geez, now her eyes were spitting mad. This was going to be a rollercoaster. He hated this. He liked everything under control.
"Vivienne. It's obvious. You dress so flamboyantly." There, he had done it, said only what was obvious. That was always safe.
"But, Jack, that's not why you recommended that she not be a field agent, if I remember correctly." Devlin inserted. Thanks a bunch, you prick, was the look Jack shot at him.
He said, "stupid idiot" in front of the kids. Syd wasn't too fond of that, but considering the alternative, let it go.
"Wait a minute -- you recommended that I not be a field agent? Would you mind telling me WHY? Did I or did I not pass every test with flying colors?"
"Well, yes."
"And did I or did I not successfully complete my missions, with or without you?" she continued.
"Well, yes."
"And did I not dress appropriately for the assignments, to blend in or attract attention, as the needs of the mission demanded it?"
"Well, yes." He knew he sounded like a broken record, but his brain was engaged in trying to figure out how to deflect this conversation before her unassailable logic would lead her to ask the question he did not want to answer. And he knew her and knew his own weakness - she would get him to answer.
"So, if I dressed appropriately for the assignment and blended in, what difference did it make if I wore a purple suit or a grey suit or navy blue to the office?" Whew, dodged a bullet on that one.
"Viv, that was never the issue." Devlin inserted. Really, that fool was going to pay for this, big time. Time to pull out the ol' Devlin dossier and start thumbing through it for ideas on payback.
And here the grandkids would ask, "Would you really have done something bad to Mr. Devlin?" The adults would all roll their eyes and laugh at the question. Syd would say, "Jack Bristow, engage in payback? Never."
"Okay, then what was the issue with my appearance if it wasn't the way I dressed?" Viv demanded.
She just stood there and stared at him. He had never met anyone else who could stare as long and with such intensity as well as he could until he met Vivienne. That was one attribute that made her so good at her work. Maybe he could just refuse to answer. Yeah, that was it, just shut up, Jack, just keep quiet and act dignified and...
Suddenly her green eyes narrowed. Oh, no, she has an idea. He had spent enough time with her to recognize the signs.
"Uh-oh, Grandmama had one of her ideas. You never know what's going to happen next!" The kids would shriek in delight. "You're not kidding! That's one thing that makes her so scary," Jack would agree and pretend to shiver. The kids would laugh harder.
Well, this did not bode well. Perhaps a strategic retreat? Or maybe a good offensive move?
"Vivienne, what difference does it make? You went on to become a field agent until you decided to specialize, so my recommendation meant nothing. Why hold a grudge?" Jack thought he had acted quite rationally, using his best cold and dismissive voice.
She laughed at him. Laughed at him, Jack Bristow, who had made more junior agents sweat through their shirts with just a look than anyone else in the bureau. "Let me get this straight -- Jack Bristow, the man who can't let anything go, ever -- has just advised me to drop the topic? That tells me that it would be worth my while to pursue it, doesn't it?" She knew him too well.
There is a God, after all, he thought as their beepers went off. He'd even rather meet with that pompous ass ("jerk" he said to the kids) Kendall for a final run through than continue this conversation.
"Jack Bristow, don't even entertain the notion that this conversation is over." Vivienne warned him with a glare. Great, now he just had to wait for the other shoe to drop. He could use the time to try and find a way to extricate himself from the mess that fool Devlin had thrown him into. And time to figure out what to do to Devlin.
"Oh boy, when Grandmama says 'don't even entertain the notion', you know your goose is cooked," Syd's son said wisely. "Jack's sure was," his father agreed, snidely Jack thought. "I don't remember you getting off scot free, either, "Jack shot back.
The mission tonight was relatively easy. The plan was very similar to the time Syd had snuck into Sloane's home office while visiting Sloane and Emily for dinner. Sloane had invited a bunch of the SD-6 high level officers to his house for a celebratory dinner after the successful completion of a long-term mission. The women in the office had suggested that it be a formal party, since there were so few chances to dress up. The officers had all been invited to bring their spouses or a date to the party to actually make it festive and not totally work oriented, another of Jack's ideas to make the premises more difficult to secure. Even Syd had agreed, but she wasn't able to attend due to another assignment. What he hadn't realized at the time was that HE would have to bring a date. In fact, Sloane himself had encouraged Jack to bring a "real" date as part of "the healing process after Irina". Here he wanted to imitate the kids and pretend to gag. Like Sloane could care less about Jack's "healing process."
When he told the team about the party and his plan to use it as a cover to plant bugs to feed the SD-6 security intel from the house to the CIA, he hadn't expected that everyone would immediately assume that Vivienne would play the part of his date. If he had thought it through, he would have found another way to accomplish the job. He didn't want to go on a date with Viv. He found himself saying, "Forget it. I still have scars from the last time." Everyone gaped. Jack and Viv had been on a date?
Vivienne saved the day. Okay, he owed her for that one. "No, he's referring to a mission he and I went on in which we had to play a married couple. Long, long time ago."
When everyone just stared, she continued, "You know -- so long ago that Jack and I didn't mind wearing swimsuits in public!" He couldn't imagine what she had to worry about - she didn't look a pound heavier than she did back in the day.
Weiss, that wisemouth, opined, "I just cannot imagine Jack in a swimsuit."
Everyone laughed and agreed. See, this is what came of having a friendly relationship with junior officers. Snarky, insubordinate comments.
He shot her a look. "Oh, Jack, don't shoot me that look of death. I have a photo, you know, of you in those swim trunks. And I'm willing to use it." He blanched. Sydney hooted. He would kill her later.
"Viv, I would pay good money for that," Syd snickered some more.
"Well, I'm thinking I'll put it up for the office's charity silent auction at Christmas this year." Now everyone was laughing. Arggh. He was going to kill both women.
"How much would it fetch?" Weiss asked. Jack thought seriously about winding the string of that stinking yoyo around his neck.
"How much would you pay for a photo of Jack Bristow in smiley face swim trunks?"
Could he die NOW? Sydney was laughing so hard he thought she would have a seizure. Vaughn - well, he would get that kid later. Weiss had tears running down his chipmunk cheeks.
Vaughn finally took pity on him. Jack didn't like that - now he'd have to back off on him for a day or two. "Hey - we've all had to wear stupid outfits on assignment. Syd - I can think of a few SpyBarbie outfits that you might not want to show your kids someday. Like that blue rubber dress?" That set them all off again, laughing and joking about various stupid costumes they'd all had to wear when they should be discussing the assignment, but at least they weren't sitting around imagining him in those ridiculous swim trunks.
He remembered opening his suitcase when he and Viv got to Florida, where they were playing the parts of an average Midwestern couple taking a well- earned vacation. To his shock he saw that his regular, nondescript swim trunks had been replaced with red trunks with huge, bright-yellow smiley faces on them. The minute he saw them, he knew what Vivienne's little trip to the cargo area near the end of the flight had been about. He would kill her. She always had to play some practical joke and usually it had been at the expense of his clothes, because she knew how picky he was about them.
Well, it had been funny looking in the mirror. Even he had to admit it. He had to stop himself from grinning the whole way out to the beach where they were to meet with the contact. Then he had seen her standing there waiting for him (looking pretty fantastic in her own swimsuit, no smiley faces for her) and he knew from the look of anticipation on her face that she was waiting for him to explode. After all, what is the point of a practical joke if the jokee doesn't react? So, he said nothing.
"That's the best thing to do when someone plays a practical joke on you, isn't it? Just act like nothing happened?" asked his oldest granddaughter. "Well, that's my goal whenever Weiss is around," her father quipped.
It was great payback for all the times she had gotten his goat. It was just killing her. They sat on the beach and she kept shooting glances at the trunks and then back at his face. This was the hardest he had tried not to laugh in, well, years. Finally, she caught on and laughed herself, "Well, you got me. You better let out that grin before you give yourself a hernia." He did more than grin, he laughed and laughed. Their backup was astonished and actually dropped his com unit in the water. He'd had to run back to the base and get a new one, while he and Viv hung out on the beach waiting. That was when Viv had pulled out her camera and he thought, pretended, to take photos.
Remembering, he began to grin again and caught Vivienne's eye. They both cracked up, while the rest of the table had stared in astonishment. Had the world titled on its axis? Had Kendall admitted he was wrong about something? Was Jupiter aligned with Mars? Jack Bristow laughing? "You had to be there," they said simultaneously.
"Well, here we are," Jack said unnecessarily as they pulled up to Sloane's house. Vivienne had said almost nothing on the way there, which made him nervous. When Viv was silent, that meant she was thinking. And when she was thinking, she was usually devising a plan to find out information from someone who would rather keep his secrets. And he had plenty of them.
He parked the car and gave her his arm as they walked up the drive. He knew she could walk perfectly well in those ridiculous heels, but for the sake of appearances...They both plastered big smiles on their face when Sloane opened the front door. "Jack! Just who is this lovely woman and where have you been keeping her?" Sloane said jovially. Honestly, if you did not know he was the devil incarnate, you would think he was a swell guy. Quite the host, as he ushered them in and over to the buffet table and bar. Except for the fact that he kept glancing at Vivienne's cleavage, that is. Jack started to get really ticked about that. He tried to clamp down on it and then realized that were he really Viv's escort he would, in fact, want to punch Sloane's lascivious eye.
He caught Viv's glance, flicked his own eyes at her cleavage and then back to Sloane. She would get the message. As they talked she managed to keep her cleavage on constant display and any minute Jack thought Sloane would start to drool. But no, with Sloane, it would be an inappropriate touch, no doubt. Sure enough, there went the paw onto her arm. Viv merely glanced at it and then up at him, giving a moue of distress at the "look" on Jack's face. Sloane looked over and blanched ever so slightly. "Arvin, let's have a little talk, why don't we? Darling, excuse us?"
While Vivienne circulated, Jack told Sloane to back off. Knowing Sloane that would mean that he would feel compelled to seek Viv out constantly. She would keep him busy while Jack planted the bug. It was ridiculously easy. Viv was ridiculously talented at keeping a man's eye upon her. It made him ridiculously grumpy. Viv saw him come back into the room and caught his nod. She engaged Sloane's attention for several more minutes - God, she could sparkle when she wanted to - and then Jack came over. "Darling, where did you disappear to?" she asked. "Oh, I went to the car to fetch your evening wrap," he replied as he possessively placed the sheer fabric around her shoulders and covered the worst of her cleavage.
They spent the rest of the evening circulating together and separately. Vivienne was much better at this work than he was - she was a wonderful raconteur and knew how to make small talk with anyone. She was probably enjoying herself while working, for crying out loud. He had spent too much of his life being a double agent and living in the shadow of Irina's evisceration of his trust in people to feel comfortable revealing anything about himself, even something so innocuous as his taste in music. But with Viv, he was actually having a good time - she knew how to draw everyone in and no one felt like an outsider. It felt - he did not know how to describe it.
He left her for a moment to freshen her drink and got caught in a conversation with Marshall.
"Oh, no, that takes forever," his youngest granddaughter said solemnly.
Yes, it did. And when he got done listening to some bizarre exposition on Marshall's fascination with polar bears and penguins- the guy had been talking about them for years - he made his way back to Viv and felt his heart drop. Dixon's wife had just asked her if she had any children.
Without thinking, he quickly put an arm around her and handed her the drink. She said calmly, "I had a little boy and he and my first husband were killed in an accident." Everyone exclaimed sympathetically and Viv was the one to change the subject and remove the awkwardness of the moment.
They stayed for about an hour longer and followed Dixon and his wife out the door. Once they got to Jack's car, he opened the door and handed her in with a concerned look at her face.
"Jack, I'm fine," she said quietly as he ran the car for bugs. She tossed her lipstick onto the dashboard to serve as a bugkiller.
"Are you sure?" he asked just as quietly.
"It's been ten years now."
"But still."
"Let's not talk about it. I'll call in our report."
After she had finished, neither said anything for a minute. Then, Vivienne opened her purse and pulled out a cd case. Curious he glanced over and raised an eyebrow. "Well," she said, "I knew that your car would have a cd player and that you would never have any cds in here because, heaven forbid, that might reveal something about yourself. I knew I'd want time to think on the way home and music always helps me do that. So, I brought along a cd that I know you'll like. Broadway cast doing 'Sweeny Todd.'"
"We're quite a pair - listening to the story of a murderous barber on the way home from a 'date'." Jack chuckled, quite inadvertently.
As Jack turned the car into his driveway - the team having decided that it would be best for security reasons that Viv appear to stay at Jack's overnight in case SD-6 security was following them - Viv said, "Jack, it's good to see you laughing." Just when he began to relax, she continued, "Of course, once we get inside and I start asking you questions, you won't be laughing."
Well, he had known, after all, she would not forget the whole issue of the dress and his recommendation. Now, he had to prepare himself to try to withstand her. She was, after all, quite good at her work, obtaining secrets.
As they went into the house, he saw with a sudden flash of insight, that he was tired of keeping secrets. Maybe.
Always exquisitely sensitive to other people's moods - another attribute that made Viv so successful -- she said nothing as he poured them each a glass of wine and wandered into the living room. She raised an eyebrow when he sat down on the couch, instead of a chair, but said nothing, just watching as she sat down on the couch as well.
Finally, she asked, "So, have you come to a decision?"
"About what?" he stalled.
"About whether you are going to tell me about why you had an issue with my appearance since we met-"
"Devlin misspoke."
"Oh, really?"
"Oh, really? That means Grandmama knows you are lying," said the little boy. "Be quiet, and let him tell the story, already!" snarled his older sister.
Jack sat there for a moment. She was onto him. What was the use? She'd get the truth out of him eventually. She had never failed. And he was tired.
If the truth be told, really tired of keeping secrets.
The truth hurts sometimes - usually when it makes one vulnerable. If there was one thing he did not like to be was vulnerable. But with another flash of insight - he guessed tonight was the night for facing uncomfortable truths - he realized that barring himself off from people, like Sydney, had not made him happy or even, necessarily, a more effective agent. He took a deep breath. Then another.
"Okay. The truth is that I wrote in my recommendation, that your choice of clothing aside, that I felt you were too attractive to be a field agent. That you really could not blend in successfully because any man who saw you would notice you and remember you." Jack avoided looking in her eyes, it was bad enough to tell the truth without having to meet her eyes.
Finally, however, the silence wore on him. He was sure she meant it to do so. But to his own astonishment, the look on her face was not the look of someone trying to persuade another to tell their secrets. Rather it was a look of stunned surprise.
He had to ask, "What are YOU thinking now? Say something, I just about -"
"Killed yourself telling the truth?" she asked with a soft smile.
"Yeah."
"But see - you did survive. Okay, I admit I am stunned. I never really knew you thought that way, I mean I would occasionally sense-"
"What? The fact that I could hardly keep my eyes off of you?"
"Is that why you requested that we no longer work together?" she asked.
"I felt our missions were compromised because you were just too - much. And I thought that surely any male agent or even an inadvertent witness would feel the same."
"And that's what led to your recommendation?"
"Yes. And Devlin told me I was being ridiculous and I have never understood why, to be honest." Here he did look up at her and had to smile at the amusement in her face.
"Well, Jack, for the same reason that you thought that this dress was too much tonight. We tend to project our own feelings onto others."
Jack raised an eyebrow. She continued, "You know, how Vaughn thinks every man Sydney meets is in love with her."
"Or how Sydney thinks every woman Vaughn meets must think he's perfect?" They both began laughing.
"They are so pathetic," Viv chuckled.
To her astonishment, Jack disagreed, "Not as pathetic as me, however."
"What do you mean?"
"I should have realized years ago -"
"Don't beat yourself up about it - we all heal at our own rates."
"When did you get to be so wise?"
"When I had to live through my family being killed by a turncoat informant." Jack put his hand on hers and held tight. This was the first time she had ever talked with him about that tragedy. Although he had attended the funeral, it was not the time then to converse about it.
As usual, she could read his mind, "Did I ever thank you for attending the funeral? That period is -- kind of a blur."
"I don't remember if you did or not. Surely it doesn't matter."
"It does matter that you were there, though. I knew you, of all people, would know what it feels like to be betrayed on such a level."
"Yes, that's why I came. But - you seemed to have gotten your life back much, well, I would hesitate to use the word, 'easier' because I am sure it wasn't easy in any way. But, your way of approaching life did not seem to change, the way mine did."
"Don't forget, Jack, you were betrayed by your wife, by the woman with whom you'd had a child. While my family was killed, the person betraying us was only an informant - a trusted one to be sure - but not the person to whom I had pledged my love and honor."
"You're too easy on me."
"And you give me too much credit. To be perfectly honest-" and here he winced because
"Grandmama sometimes tells you things you don't want to hear!" the kids chorused, followed by the adults chorusing, "You're not kidding!"
"Watching how you had shut yourself down and avoided dealing with emotions was well, kind of an example of what not to do."
"Glad to know I came in handy in some fashion," Jack snarked. Then he caught her eyes and began to smile. "You know what really irritates me about you?"
"Let's see - my bright colors, the way I don't take life or the Agency seriously enough, the way I always joke around, the fact that you have NEVER ever scared me, or the fact that.."
"Alright already! How about the fact that you can always make me laugh!"
"How is that a bad thing?" she asked, chuckling.
"It just is!" Jack knew he sounded like a petulant three year old.
"See! It's just like Mom always says - men can be such babies when it comes to dealing with emotions!" the oldest girl announced. Which led to an argument between her parents, which Viv stopped by telling them to "Take it to the warehouse, please".
Seeing the look of amusement on Viv's face, Jack stopped. He realized he was pouting, which was so ridiculous in a man of his age, it was---
"Worth the price of admission just to see you act like a three year old," Viv finished his thought.
"And that's another thing - just how do you know what I am thinking?" Jack asked.
Viv said evenly, though her eyes were dancing with amusement, "To tell you the truth, Jack, I've never understood why everyone thinks you are so difficult to read. You seem like an open book to me and always have." She sat quietly and waited for him to digest that thought, which would surely be difficult for him to accept. It was so important for Jack to keep his secrets, so she could give him the space he needed until----
But with a gasp, Viv felt Jack lift her up by the waist and settle her back down on his lap. Gee, guess he didn't need that space, after all. "Okay, if I am so easy to read, what am I thinking now?"
"Well, judging by - the obvious - I am not so sure your brain is actually engaged in a thinking process, Jack," Viv laughed.
"Oh, I don't know about that - I am thinking, quite hard, as it were, about how this dress unfastens and how quickly I could get you out of it." Jack was grinning - how often did anyone get to see that?
"I see --- you hate this dress so much, you can't wait to remove it?" she asked archly.
"No, I love this dress so much I can't wait to see what's under it. Hmm, where should I start?"
"How about with a kiss? I've been waiting-"
"Forever, it seems?"
"See - now you're the one reading my mind!" With smiles, they reached for each other.
It didn't take Jack long to ascertain how to remove that little black dress. He began chuckling again, when he found the small knife strapped to her right thigh. "Geez, Viv, do you go anywhere without that knife?" he asked as he lifted her up. Well, those squash games with Sloane were apparently worth more than a way to keep his blood pressure in check if he could still lift her at his age.
As he carried her through the kitchen, his security light flashed. Both stiffened and Jack placed her on her own feet while he dashed over to the security panel. By the time he turned back, Viv had her knife out. He began laughing, "Really, Viv, you are too much. It's only ---"
But before he could finish the sentence, the door opened and Sydney and Vaughn strolled in. They stopped first at the rare sound of Jack's laughter and then their eyes widened at the sight before them. Viv had smoothly slid the knife into her thigh holster by the time he turned around and he belatedly realized that she was clad only in that knife and her lingerie. Beautiful lingerie, as a matter of fact, but probably not how she wanted to appear before Syd and her own nephew.
He threw his shirt toward her. She snatched it up. H e had to admire her aplomb. He knew his cheeks must be red, but she was not blushing as she stuck her arms into the shirt. Luckily, it covered her to mid thigh - knife height, he thought with a smile.
"For crying out loud, Viv - my eyes, my eyes. Can't you get dressed any faster?" Vaughn chortled. Really, that kid was getting annoying.
"Shut up, Michael." Even Viv sounded annoyed now. "What are you two doing here, anyway?"
"Well, Syd's mission was aborted and we both wanted to know how tonight's op went."
"What, our verbal reports from an hour ago weren't good enough?" she inquired, sweetly. That could mean nothing good - for Vaughn. "Or you thought that we could screw up such a simple op?"
"Um, well, no. It just, we wanted to know what, how you two - it was Syd's idea." Syd was looking at her non-boyfriend incredulously.
"My idea? What a weasel. That is so ridiculous!" she protested.
"Children, stop it." Jack said firmly.
Viv asked, in a vaguely curious tone, "So, just how did you two get here? Sydney obviously has reason to visit her father, but how did you get Michael here?"
As Syd and Vaughn launched into an explanation of their complicated scheme to get to Jack's house, Jack and Viv looked at each other. Luckily the younger couple were too occupied with their story (and each other, of course) to notice the conspiratorial looks between the older couple.
"So, how often do you two meet outside the CIA offices and how do you manage it?" Viv asked nonchalantly.
Like fools, Jack thought, they just accepted the question and gave Viv the answers.
"And you've never been caught by anyone at these meetings, correct?" Jack asked, helping Viv along.
"Correct," they answered simultaneously with identical tones of offense.
"Well," Viv said in the tone of voice that had it been directed at Jack would have sent him running for cover, "If you two are able to meet all over LA, to say nothing of spots around the world, with no one the wiser, I have one question." Pause. (She was good with the timing, Jack smiled inwardly, he did appreciate someone who understood the importance of precision in timing.) "Just what the hell is keeping the two of you from getting together?"
Shock, dismay, comprehension flowed across both Syd and Vaughn's faces. But before they could speak, Viv continued. "And please don't insult anyone's intelligence by pretending that there is nothing between the two of you. Everyone within a mile of you two-"
"-with the possible exception of Kendall," Jack interrupted.
"Okay, I'll amend my statement - anyone not totally self-absorbed with their own self-importance within a mile of you two can feel the vibes. To say nothing, Michael, of those looks you give Sydney and to say nothing, Sydney, of those smiles you give to Michael. So, here's the way I see it. One, the two of you obviously have strong feelings for each other. Even if I were blind, I could tell that from what you've done for each other. I've read your files after all."
"What? You've read our files? That's -" Vaughn stuttered to a halt.
"A total invasion of privacy? Absolutely. Breaking protocol? Certainly. Meddling? Of course. That's what family is for, Michael."
"My God, Vaughn! Viv and my dad are so alike it's scary." Syd whispered.
Viv continued, "Yeah, get over it. And, Michael, speaking of getting over it, you need to get over your"
"naïve sense of morality," Jack finished.
"Exactly, Jack. Rule book, smule book. And my original point. Work around the rule book. For two otherwise highly-intelligent people, I can't believe that you haven't figured out the obvious. If you can plan clandestine meetings for years for work, why can't you plan clandestine meetings for your personal life?"
In the face of their incredulous silence, Jack interrupted, "I agree. You two are agents, after all. It's the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen. And Lord knows, I've tried--" Jack stopped. Perhaps he should shut up at this point.
"Dad, what do you mean by that?" Sydney asked him with that glint in her eye that meant she was onto him.
Vaughn spoke up. "Wait a minute - I know. All of those situations in which you threw us together alone in the past two years - saying we could handle it on our own, which I never really believed by the way - was just your way of meddling, wasn't it?"
"You were trying to throw us together, so that ---" Sydney squeaked to a halt. Silence reigned momentarily.
"So that you two could get together and end the world's longest session of verbal foreplay." Viv could always be counted on to fill in the blanks.
At the word, "foreplay," both Syd and Vaughn's faces had frozen in shock. Well, that certainly shut the two of them up. Viv, however, had something more to say.
"Honestly, the characters in Jane Austen take less time to get together than you two!" She knew Sydney would understand the insult.
Vaughn recovered faster, judging by the speed with which his face turned a really unattractive shade of red. Well, Jack thought it was unattractive. Sydney probably liked it - she liked everything about the way Vaughn looked; he may have been her father but he could read her face when she was looking at Vaughn. And the way Vaughn looked at her, it made him extremely uncomfortable as her father. Really, how the two of them had kept out of each other's arms was a mystery. But maybe the level of frustration explained the anger in Vaughn's face and voice. In a torrent of rapid-fire French, he had begun berating his aunt. As usual, Viv remained calm, which of course only served to irritate her nephew even more.
She was good at this. Jack smiled as she calmly leaned against the counter, oblivious to her appearance in his shirt, stockings and a knife strapped to her thigh. He thought he'd like a photo of her like that, forget the smiley- face swim trunks.
Jack's smile seemed to irritate Vaughn even more as the younger man gestured angrily in his direction and began to speak even more rapidly. Luckily, both Bristows were more than fluent in French, although Jack thought Sydney might not know some of the more, well, crude, vernacular Vaughn was using right now. Then noting the look of confusion on Syd's face as they watched Vaughn gesture toward the knife and then continue his diatribe, he decided he needed to intervene.
"That's enough, Vaughn!" Jack said with quiet menace. "You will not talk to Vivienne like that. Take your frustration out in more appropriate and constructive ways with someone who can help you alleviate it." He heard Syd gasp.
"Now, the two of you should have better things to do than talk to us. We certainly have better things to do." Jack walked over to the door and opened it. "Take my advice and actually have an honest conversation - soon. Don't waste any more time."
"Did you notice that my dad didn't even ask why my mission was aborted?" Syd asked as they left.
"I think he's got other things on his mind, Syd." Vaughn answered sullenly. "And really, what's on their minds is way more than I wanted to know about either of them."
Syd inquired, "What was that last bit about, anyway? I couldn't quite catch- "
"Forget it, Syd, you really don't need to know, you really don't," Vaughn said as the door began to close behind them.
Viv said, "Stop talking about us, for crying out loud! Why do--"
"Do you always have to get the last word?" Jack asked.
"Well, I can think of situations in which I wouldn't mind having you have the last word." She answered slyly.
Jack walked over to the security control panel and reset it, shaking his head in bemusement. "Really, Vivienne, don't you think it was a bit much to tell the boy that we use your knife in foreplay?"
"Don't you think he needed a jolt or two?"
"Yeah, for years. But still, I hope he doesn't elaborate for Syd. I don't think, well, I hope she didn't really catch the drift of what you two were saying." He shuddered slightly as she laughed.
"Speaking of foreplay, you've got to admit that the looks on their faces when I accused them of years of verbal foreplay was priceless. Talk about deer caught in the headlights." She laughed again, then stopped at the startled look on Jack's face. "What?"
"Well, isn't that we did to a certain extent? Engage in years of verbal foreplay?" Jack asked.
"The problem isn't the amount of foreplay, darling, it's the follow- through," she smirked.
"I'll show you follow-through. And do you still have that knife on you? You gave me an idea or two," he laughed as he swung her up in his arms.
Needless to say, the grandkids got a cleaner version of the story. No one needed to know that much detail about their parents or grandparents, no matter what some New Age freak parenting guides might say. But then, they were all good at making sure the grandkids did not have an accurate idea of just who the four of them really were or had been. Jack would always say that the kids need never know just how scary any of the adults in their lives could be.
They had long ago worked out standard responses for the kids' questions. They always told the kids that Grandmama, for example, had been a "negotiator". When they were young and asked what "negotiator" meant, their dad had explained, "It's someone who can convince another person to do something or say something they would rather not do or say." Well, that was as good a description as any, he supposed. But, the kids didn't need to know that Grandmama was renowned for her ability to "persuade" recalcitrant captives to surrender information. When it was just the adults reminiscing, Jack and Viv often argued about which of the two of them was the scariest. Vaughn always irritated Jack by agreeing with him that Viv must be the scariest, by virtue of the fact that she was able to get Jack Bristow to talk. Vivienne would always have to get the last word, though. She would always say, "And Jack did I ever make you do anything you didn't really want to do?" He would always say with a smile, "Never. But then you were always good with that knife."
It started out like any "normal" day at the CIA. Meaning, the usual: crisis after crisis, the latest internet joke (not that anyone told him the joke directly), backbiting, gossip about who was dating whom, complaining about the boss, chatting about last night's episode of Survivor, and who got wounded on the last terrorist infiltration: you know, just your regular coffee hour conversation. Of course, if he had bothered to go to coffee hour with everyone else, he might have had a clue, might not have been blind sided. Blind sided by a flick of fuschia, no less.
That flick of fuschia going around the corner. It must have been some presentiment of disaster -- that was all he saw out of the corner of his eye -- the edge of what must have been a skirt and he knew, knew, what was coming. "Aw, geez, not her, not her." There was only one woman at this level of the Agency who would wear such a color.
The skirt had gone into the conference room where he was to meet with Sydney, Devlin, Kendall, Vaughn, Weiss and assorted other agents. They were meeting about what they hoped would be the final planning stages for the destruction of SD-6. Syd had now been a double agent for over three years and he, he had trouble remembering when he wasn't leading a double life. Devlin had told him he was bringing in a few specialists from other offices to deal with the (and with the grandkids, he always just used Syd's favorite euphemism) "bad guys." And this woman wearing hot pink was, he just knew it, going to be one of those specialists. A specialist in "persuading" people to give up their secrets.
And that was what made him nervous.
Here the kids would always giggle, "Grandpapa, you never get nervous!" He always had to reply, "The only person who ever makes me nervous is your grandmother. She's scary!" They would giggle again and say, "Oh, no! You are the scary one. Daddy says so." And here he'd have to shoot a dirty look at their father and say, "Oh, really? We'll have to see about that," in an arch tone, just to make the kids laugh harder.
Coming down the hall, he heard Syd squeal, "Viv! Are you in on this mission? I am so excited!" Great, now he'd never be able to get rid of her.
And then from Vaughn, "Tante Viv -- what are you doing here?"
Syd said to her non-boyfriend, "Viv is your aunt?"
"Yes. I'm his mother's sister. Sorry we couldn't tell you before. But once people see us together, there's no longer any need for secrecy. Our eyes give it away." Viv said with a smile. Of course, SHE was smiling, (he could hear it in her voice). She didn't have to put up with herself. Wait a minute - did that make any sense?
"Actually my father recruited her into the Agency," Vaughn said.
"You're kidding! What a small world -- my dad was one of the senior officers assigned to train her. That's how I know her. Of course, I thought she was just another airplane parts salesperson," she laughed.
"No way!" Vaughn said in amused shock. "I didn't know that."
This was as good a moment as any to walk in. "As usual, Agent Vaughn, there is much you don't know. Actually, entire volumes could be written on what you don't know. " Well, that felt good, anyway. What good was a day without annoying the crap out of Michael Vaughn? One had to take the small pleasures in life....And finally forced himself to look at the woman he knew would just...
God, she was still gorgeous. Black hair, green eyes full of mischief. She was years older than the last time he had seen her and still looked fabulous. He knew he had put on a few pounds. But the color of that suit? Maybe, if he were lucky, he could develop blindness from looking at that hot pink though -- there was still hope. Well, he had to say something.
"Vivienne".
"Jonathan," she growled in a perfect imitation of his voice and with an identical cold stare. Syd giggled,Vaughn smiled. The other agents looked shocked, someone had mocked Jack Bristow? And was still alive? He knew it. Her mission in life was to drive him nuts.
"Really, Devlin, I did not need this." Had he actually said that aloud? See, this was what he hated about her -- she got him to open his mouth before he actually considered what words were going to trip out. He had so little control around her.
"Need what, Jack?" Devlin asked, oh so innocently.
"Viv here -- she can't ...."
"What, Jack? You think I can't do the job?" Viv confronted him.
"Really, Jack, there is no justification for that idea. You know Viv is one of the best. I mean, after all, you trained her and then worked with her, on and off, for several years. " Devlin said complacently.
"I know she excels at her work but..."
"But what?"
Couldn't he just scream, "But she drives me nuts! She jokes around and doesn't take life and the Agency as seriously as she should, she wears bright colors and worse, she isn't afraid of me!" Really, just once, he'd like to lose it. He could feel his face turning red, with anger he convinced himself, while everyone just stared and waited for the answer to Devlin's question.
"But nothing. It's my problem and I need to get over it. Excuse me. Let's just get on with it," he finally growled and sat down at the conference table. Everyone else exchanged glances and sat down as well. Did he get points for exercising such tremendous self discipline and not running down the hall screaming? Maybe he could do this, maybe it wasn't as bad as it was before. After all, they were both older, right?
The rest of the meeting went just as he knew it would. He had, after all, been in countless meetings with Viv before, though not for the last several years. She never strayed from the point, always asked incisive questions, gave clear answers, contributed good suggestions, but and this was what made him nuts, she infused humor whenever she could. He always thought it was inappropriate, but he could see how it relaxed everyone and made the team more cohesive. As lacking in self awareness as he was, Jack knew his frustration with her stemmed in part from jealousy. He was much more relaxed in the field, but tensed up at the office. Viv fit in everywhere and always found it easy to fit in while he so often felt like an outsider.
Then he felt guilty for his jealousy. She had so much about which to feel bitter and yet had never let herself choose that route.
Afterwards, Syd was introducing Viv to some the agents who had not needed to be at the meeting, but would have reason to interact with her. She was finishing up with Vicki by telling her that, "This is the woman who sends me the 'SpyBarbie on Assignment' pictures." Vicki shrieked with delight, "I love those! Will you do any while you're in LA?"
And that was another thing he just could not stand. She not only had a hobby -- where did she get the time? -- but it was such a girly hobby. She collected dolls, not only dolls, but Barbies! Couldn't she collect knives or guns or other instruments of death and destruction, like a normal agent?
Oh no, not her! Once Viv had been informed that Syd was a double agent, she had begun sending Syd digital images via the CIA secure lines of "SpyBarbie on Assignment". She had customized a doll and dressed it up in costumes and wigs, according to what Syd told her she wore on a particular mission. She would then create a little vignette complete with furniture, accessories and other people, depicting some point or several moments in the mission. When it was finished she would send jpeg images to Syd, complete with captions. He hated to admit it, but they were often pretty funny. His personal favorite was the vignette of the big red ball in Taipei, but instead of the ball, she had used a large stuffed Clifford the Big Red Dog and had it chasing Syd down the hall. He'd had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing aloud. Too bad all of the images and vignettes had to be destroyed for security reasons. Ye gods, had he actually thought that? He looked around and no one was staring at him, so at least he hadn't said it aloud. Thank God for small favors.
He still wanted to know, "Vivienne, can I ask you how you found out about Syd being an agent, anyway?"
Devlin interjected, "C'mon Jack, you know her sources of information are as good as your own. In fact, she is the only person who has ever even come close to your ability to gather information. Surely we have enough to do right now that we don't need to rehash ancient history."
Viv smiled. "Yes, and Jack, I manage to acquire my information without bugging every bathroom in the place too." Fabulous, now everyone was looking at him funny. Thankfully she laughed, so everyone thought she was just joking.
Argh. Could he clamp his jaw shut any tighter? His blood pressure must be through the roof. He was going to need to play squash tonight to wind down. Maybe he could con Sloane into a game. That would be good way to kill some tension and with any luck Sloane might drop dead of a heart attack.
Here Syd would always insert, "Kids, keep in mind that we don't actually wish anyone dead." Jack would always roll his eyes at her behind the kids' back at that notion. Syd had never really been ruthless enough for their line of work. It had always struck him as odd that Syd, who had so much field experience and had seen so much evil, could be so squeamish about termination, while Vaughn, who was so laid back and relatively naïve, had no problems pulling a trigger at point blank range. People. Go figure.
Well, he played lots of squash. Sloane survived, too bad. The plans proceeded along for weeks and weeks, about as smoothly as could be expected given the fact that Irina, who had escaped custody earlier during a transfer, had dropped out of sight. Everyone was nervous. Everyone except Vivienne. She kept saying that Irina's fatal flaw - her arrogance - would be her downfall; it was just a matter of time. Syd was getting antsy about Sark who was still working with SD6; she had endless questions about his origins, motivations and goals. She and Vivienne spent a goodly amount of time trying to trace information on him.
Eventually, Vivienne took a trip to Ireland and apparently found out something. He could tell when he saw her face when she came into the Op Center. She looked sad and angry at the same time. She quickly controlled her facial muscles when she saw him.
"What is it?" he found himself asking quietly.
"What are you talking about?" she parried.
"Vivienne, don't try and fool me, of all people."
"Jack, I just need some time to process what I've learned. I am going to tell Sydney first, since she was the one who instigated this intel op. Then we'll decide what to tell you and everyone else."
"What do you mean, decide 'what' to tell? Are you planning on not telling the whole truth?"
"Jack Bristow, do you even know the meaning of 'the whole truth'?" And they were off arguing as always, and it was only later that he realized that she had effectively diverted him from the issue of the intel. He did not recall his questions until it was too late.
Well, he did not really want to get into the story of Sark with the kids. Luckily, they knew what came next and prompted him. "Tell us about when you saw her in THE black dress." Vivienne would always say, "I will never understand what it was about that black dress." Jack would always respond, "I know and let's keep it that way. You know too much already. But you still have that dress don't you?" "Like I'd ever get rid of it?" she'd laugh.
"Is THAT what you are wearing?" Jack roared as Vivienne came into the Op Center several weeks after her trip to Ireland. They were meeting at the center before heading out for tonight's mission. Then he heard himself. Oh, no. Had he actually raised his voice? Maybe he did need to see Dr. Barnett again about control issues. Of course, she thought he was too obsessed about control, while he thought he needed to exercise more control, so maybe that wasn't the best idea. Viv interrupted his thoughts.
"What's wrong with what I am wearing? It's just a simple black dress. You said you didn't want anything 'flamboyant'." Viv inquired looking down at her "simple" black dress.
In his mind it was simply devastating. It was shocking to see her in black, when she was so fond of bright colors. She called them jewel tones; he called them "bright." (Agents don't wear bright colors - wasn't that in some rule book somewhere? He'd have to ask Vaughn - he thought the kid slept with the friggin' rule book under his pillow.) But in the silky black dress, with only discreet diamonds at her neck and ears, you saw Vivienne, not her clothes. In his opinion, you saw a little too much of Vivienne with that neckline and the slit up the right thigh. Great, if he had known how she would look if she took his advice and dressed in "normal" colors, he would have kept his big mouth shut.
"You know, Jack, you've had an issue with Viv's appearance ever since you met her. Isn't it time you got over it?" Devlin interrupted.
"What do you mean, you've had an issue with my appearance?" Viv demanded. Geez, now her eyes were spitting mad. This was going to be a rollercoaster. He hated this. He liked everything under control.
"Vivienne. It's obvious. You dress so flamboyantly." There, he had done it, said only what was obvious. That was always safe.
"But, Jack, that's not why you recommended that she not be a field agent, if I remember correctly." Devlin inserted. Thanks a bunch, you prick, was the look Jack shot at him.
He said, "stupid idiot" in front of the kids. Syd wasn't too fond of that, but considering the alternative, let it go.
"Wait a minute -- you recommended that I not be a field agent? Would you mind telling me WHY? Did I or did I not pass every test with flying colors?"
"Well, yes."
"And did I or did I not successfully complete my missions, with or without you?" she continued.
"Well, yes."
"And did I not dress appropriately for the assignments, to blend in or attract attention, as the needs of the mission demanded it?"
"Well, yes." He knew he sounded like a broken record, but his brain was engaged in trying to figure out how to deflect this conversation before her unassailable logic would lead her to ask the question he did not want to answer. And he knew her and knew his own weakness - she would get him to answer.
"So, if I dressed appropriately for the assignment and blended in, what difference did it make if I wore a purple suit or a grey suit or navy blue to the office?" Whew, dodged a bullet on that one.
"Viv, that was never the issue." Devlin inserted. Really, that fool was going to pay for this, big time. Time to pull out the ol' Devlin dossier and start thumbing through it for ideas on payback.
And here the grandkids would ask, "Would you really have done something bad to Mr. Devlin?" The adults would all roll their eyes and laugh at the question. Syd would say, "Jack Bristow, engage in payback? Never."
"Okay, then what was the issue with my appearance if it wasn't the way I dressed?" Viv demanded.
She just stood there and stared at him. He had never met anyone else who could stare as long and with such intensity as well as he could until he met Vivienne. That was one attribute that made her so good at her work. Maybe he could just refuse to answer. Yeah, that was it, just shut up, Jack, just keep quiet and act dignified and...
Suddenly her green eyes narrowed. Oh, no, she has an idea. He had spent enough time with her to recognize the signs.
"Uh-oh, Grandmama had one of her ideas. You never know what's going to happen next!" The kids would shriek in delight. "You're not kidding! That's one thing that makes her so scary," Jack would agree and pretend to shiver. The kids would laugh harder.
Well, this did not bode well. Perhaps a strategic retreat? Or maybe a good offensive move?
"Vivienne, what difference does it make? You went on to become a field agent until you decided to specialize, so my recommendation meant nothing. Why hold a grudge?" Jack thought he had acted quite rationally, using his best cold and dismissive voice.
She laughed at him. Laughed at him, Jack Bristow, who had made more junior agents sweat through their shirts with just a look than anyone else in the bureau. "Let me get this straight -- Jack Bristow, the man who can't let anything go, ever -- has just advised me to drop the topic? That tells me that it would be worth my while to pursue it, doesn't it?" She knew him too well.
There is a God, after all, he thought as their beepers went off. He'd even rather meet with that pompous ass ("jerk" he said to the kids) Kendall for a final run through than continue this conversation.
"Jack Bristow, don't even entertain the notion that this conversation is over." Vivienne warned him with a glare. Great, now he just had to wait for the other shoe to drop. He could use the time to try and find a way to extricate himself from the mess that fool Devlin had thrown him into. And time to figure out what to do to Devlin.
"Oh boy, when Grandmama says 'don't even entertain the notion', you know your goose is cooked," Syd's son said wisely. "Jack's sure was," his father agreed, snidely Jack thought. "I don't remember you getting off scot free, either, "Jack shot back.
The mission tonight was relatively easy. The plan was very similar to the time Syd had snuck into Sloane's home office while visiting Sloane and Emily for dinner. Sloane had invited a bunch of the SD-6 high level officers to his house for a celebratory dinner after the successful completion of a long-term mission. The women in the office had suggested that it be a formal party, since there were so few chances to dress up. The officers had all been invited to bring their spouses or a date to the party to actually make it festive and not totally work oriented, another of Jack's ideas to make the premises more difficult to secure. Even Syd had agreed, but she wasn't able to attend due to another assignment. What he hadn't realized at the time was that HE would have to bring a date. In fact, Sloane himself had encouraged Jack to bring a "real" date as part of "the healing process after Irina". Here he wanted to imitate the kids and pretend to gag. Like Sloane could care less about Jack's "healing process."
When he told the team about the party and his plan to use it as a cover to plant bugs to feed the SD-6 security intel from the house to the CIA, he hadn't expected that everyone would immediately assume that Vivienne would play the part of his date. If he had thought it through, he would have found another way to accomplish the job. He didn't want to go on a date with Viv. He found himself saying, "Forget it. I still have scars from the last time." Everyone gaped. Jack and Viv had been on a date?
Vivienne saved the day. Okay, he owed her for that one. "No, he's referring to a mission he and I went on in which we had to play a married couple. Long, long time ago."
When everyone just stared, she continued, "You know -- so long ago that Jack and I didn't mind wearing swimsuits in public!" He couldn't imagine what she had to worry about - she didn't look a pound heavier than she did back in the day.
Weiss, that wisemouth, opined, "I just cannot imagine Jack in a swimsuit."
Everyone laughed and agreed. See, this is what came of having a friendly relationship with junior officers. Snarky, insubordinate comments.
He shot her a look. "Oh, Jack, don't shoot me that look of death. I have a photo, you know, of you in those swim trunks. And I'm willing to use it." He blanched. Sydney hooted. He would kill her later.
"Viv, I would pay good money for that," Syd snickered some more.
"Well, I'm thinking I'll put it up for the office's charity silent auction at Christmas this year." Now everyone was laughing. Arggh. He was going to kill both women.
"How much would it fetch?" Weiss asked. Jack thought seriously about winding the string of that stinking yoyo around his neck.
"How much would you pay for a photo of Jack Bristow in smiley face swim trunks?"
Could he die NOW? Sydney was laughing so hard he thought she would have a seizure. Vaughn - well, he would get that kid later. Weiss had tears running down his chipmunk cheeks.
Vaughn finally took pity on him. Jack didn't like that - now he'd have to back off on him for a day or two. "Hey - we've all had to wear stupid outfits on assignment. Syd - I can think of a few SpyBarbie outfits that you might not want to show your kids someday. Like that blue rubber dress?" That set them all off again, laughing and joking about various stupid costumes they'd all had to wear when they should be discussing the assignment, but at least they weren't sitting around imagining him in those ridiculous swim trunks.
He remembered opening his suitcase when he and Viv got to Florida, where they were playing the parts of an average Midwestern couple taking a well- earned vacation. To his shock he saw that his regular, nondescript swim trunks had been replaced with red trunks with huge, bright-yellow smiley faces on them. The minute he saw them, he knew what Vivienne's little trip to the cargo area near the end of the flight had been about. He would kill her. She always had to play some practical joke and usually it had been at the expense of his clothes, because she knew how picky he was about them.
Well, it had been funny looking in the mirror. Even he had to admit it. He had to stop himself from grinning the whole way out to the beach where they were to meet with the contact. Then he had seen her standing there waiting for him (looking pretty fantastic in her own swimsuit, no smiley faces for her) and he knew from the look of anticipation on her face that she was waiting for him to explode. After all, what is the point of a practical joke if the jokee doesn't react? So, he said nothing.
"That's the best thing to do when someone plays a practical joke on you, isn't it? Just act like nothing happened?" asked his oldest granddaughter. "Well, that's my goal whenever Weiss is around," her father quipped.
It was great payback for all the times she had gotten his goat. It was just killing her. They sat on the beach and she kept shooting glances at the trunks and then back at his face. This was the hardest he had tried not to laugh in, well, years. Finally, she caught on and laughed herself, "Well, you got me. You better let out that grin before you give yourself a hernia." He did more than grin, he laughed and laughed. Their backup was astonished and actually dropped his com unit in the water. He'd had to run back to the base and get a new one, while he and Viv hung out on the beach waiting. That was when Viv had pulled out her camera and he thought, pretended, to take photos.
Remembering, he began to grin again and caught Vivienne's eye. They both cracked up, while the rest of the table had stared in astonishment. Had the world titled on its axis? Had Kendall admitted he was wrong about something? Was Jupiter aligned with Mars? Jack Bristow laughing? "You had to be there," they said simultaneously.
"Well, here we are," Jack said unnecessarily as they pulled up to Sloane's house. Vivienne had said almost nothing on the way there, which made him nervous. When Viv was silent, that meant she was thinking. And when she was thinking, she was usually devising a plan to find out information from someone who would rather keep his secrets. And he had plenty of them.
He parked the car and gave her his arm as they walked up the drive. He knew she could walk perfectly well in those ridiculous heels, but for the sake of appearances...They both plastered big smiles on their face when Sloane opened the front door. "Jack! Just who is this lovely woman and where have you been keeping her?" Sloane said jovially. Honestly, if you did not know he was the devil incarnate, you would think he was a swell guy. Quite the host, as he ushered them in and over to the buffet table and bar. Except for the fact that he kept glancing at Vivienne's cleavage, that is. Jack started to get really ticked about that. He tried to clamp down on it and then realized that were he really Viv's escort he would, in fact, want to punch Sloane's lascivious eye.
He caught Viv's glance, flicked his own eyes at her cleavage and then back to Sloane. She would get the message. As they talked she managed to keep her cleavage on constant display and any minute Jack thought Sloane would start to drool. But no, with Sloane, it would be an inappropriate touch, no doubt. Sure enough, there went the paw onto her arm. Viv merely glanced at it and then up at him, giving a moue of distress at the "look" on Jack's face. Sloane looked over and blanched ever so slightly. "Arvin, let's have a little talk, why don't we? Darling, excuse us?"
While Vivienne circulated, Jack told Sloane to back off. Knowing Sloane that would mean that he would feel compelled to seek Viv out constantly. She would keep him busy while Jack planted the bug. It was ridiculously easy. Viv was ridiculously talented at keeping a man's eye upon her. It made him ridiculously grumpy. Viv saw him come back into the room and caught his nod. She engaged Sloane's attention for several more minutes - God, she could sparkle when she wanted to - and then Jack came over. "Darling, where did you disappear to?" she asked. "Oh, I went to the car to fetch your evening wrap," he replied as he possessively placed the sheer fabric around her shoulders and covered the worst of her cleavage.
They spent the rest of the evening circulating together and separately. Vivienne was much better at this work than he was - she was a wonderful raconteur and knew how to make small talk with anyone. She was probably enjoying herself while working, for crying out loud. He had spent too much of his life being a double agent and living in the shadow of Irina's evisceration of his trust in people to feel comfortable revealing anything about himself, even something so innocuous as his taste in music. But with Viv, he was actually having a good time - she knew how to draw everyone in and no one felt like an outsider. It felt - he did not know how to describe it.
He left her for a moment to freshen her drink and got caught in a conversation with Marshall.
"Oh, no, that takes forever," his youngest granddaughter said solemnly.
Yes, it did. And when he got done listening to some bizarre exposition on Marshall's fascination with polar bears and penguins- the guy had been talking about them for years - he made his way back to Viv and felt his heart drop. Dixon's wife had just asked her if she had any children.
Without thinking, he quickly put an arm around her and handed her the drink. She said calmly, "I had a little boy and he and my first husband were killed in an accident." Everyone exclaimed sympathetically and Viv was the one to change the subject and remove the awkwardness of the moment.
They stayed for about an hour longer and followed Dixon and his wife out the door. Once they got to Jack's car, he opened the door and handed her in with a concerned look at her face.
"Jack, I'm fine," she said quietly as he ran the car for bugs. She tossed her lipstick onto the dashboard to serve as a bugkiller.
"Are you sure?" he asked just as quietly.
"It's been ten years now."
"But still."
"Let's not talk about it. I'll call in our report."
After she had finished, neither said anything for a minute. Then, Vivienne opened her purse and pulled out a cd case. Curious he glanced over and raised an eyebrow. "Well," she said, "I knew that your car would have a cd player and that you would never have any cds in here because, heaven forbid, that might reveal something about yourself. I knew I'd want time to think on the way home and music always helps me do that. So, I brought along a cd that I know you'll like. Broadway cast doing 'Sweeny Todd.'"
"We're quite a pair - listening to the story of a murderous barber on the way home from a 'date'." Jack chuckled, quite inadvertently.
As Jack turned the car into his driveway - the team having decided that it would be best for security reasons that Viv appear to stay at Jack's overnight in case SD-6 security was following them - Viv said, "Jack, it's good to see you laughing." Just when he began to relax, she continued, "Of course, once we get inside and I start asking you questions, you won't be laughing."
Well, he had known, after all, she would not forget the whole issue of the dress and his recommendation. Now, he had to prepare himself to try to withstand her. She was, after all, quite good at her work, obtaining secrets.
As they went into the house, he saw with a sudden flash of insight, that he was tired of keeping secrets. Maybe.
Always exquisitely sensitive to other people's moods - another attribute that made Viv so successful -- she said nothing as he poured them each a glass of wine and wandered into the living room. She raised an eyebrow when he sat down on the couch, instead of a chair, but said nothing, just watching as she sat down on the couch as well.
Finally, she asked, "So, have you come to a decision?"
"About what?" he stalled.
"About whether you are going to tell me about why you had an issue with my appearance since we met-"
"Devlin misspoke."
"Oh, really?"
"Oh, really? That means Grandmama knows you are lying," said the little boy. "Be quiet, and let him tell the story, already!" snarled his older sister.
Jack sat there for a moment. She was onto him. What was the use? She'd get the truth out of him eventually. She had never failed. And he was tired.
If the truth be told, really tired of keeping secrets.
The truth hurts sometimes - usually when it makes one vulnerable. If there was one thing he did not like to be was vulnerable. But with another flash of insight - he guessed tonight was the night for facing uncomfortable truths - he realized that barring himself off from people, like Sydney, had not made him happy or even, necessarily, a more effective agent. He took a deep breath. Then another.
"Okay. The truth is that I wrote in my recommendation, that your choice of clothing aside, that I felt you were too attractive to be a field agent. That you really could not blend in successfully because any man who saw you would notice you and remember you." Jack avoided looking in her eyes, it was bad enough to tell the truth without having to meet her eyes.
Finally, however, the silence wore on him. He was sure she meant it to do so. But to his own astonishment, the look on her face was not the look of someone trying to persuade another to tell their secrets. Rather it was a look of stunned surprise.
He had to ask, "What are YOU thinking now? Say something, I just about -"
"Killed yourself telling the truth?" she asked with a soft smile.
"Yeah."
"But see - you did survive. Okay, I admit I am stunned. I never really knew you thought that way, I mean I would occasionally sense-"
"What? The fact that I could hardly keep my eyes off of you?"
"Is that why you requested that we no longer work together?" she asked.
"I felt our missions were compromised because you were just too - much. And I thought that surely any male agent or even an inadvertent witness would feel the same."
"And that's what led to your recommendation?"
"Yes. And Devlin told me I was being ridiculous and I have never understood why, to be honest." Here he did look up at her and had to smile at the amusement in her face.
"Well, Jack, for the same reason that you thought that this dress was too much tonight. We tend to project our own feelings onto others."
Jack raised an eyebrow. She continued, "You know, how Vaughn thinks every man Sydney meets is in love with her."
"Or how Sydney thinks every woman Vaughn meets must think he's perfect?" They both began laughing.
"They are so pathetic," Viv chuckled.
To her astonishment, Jack disagreed, "Not as pathetic as me, however."
"What do you mean?"
"I should have realized years ago -"
"Don't beat yourself up about it - we all heal at our own rates."
"When did you get to be so wise?"
"When I had to live through my family being killed by a turncoat informant." Jack put his hand on hers and held tight. This was the first time she had ever talked with him about that tragedy. Although he had attended the funeral, it was not the time then to converse about it.
As usual, she could read his mind, "Did I ever thank you for attending the funeral? That period is -- kind of a blur."
"I don't remember if you did or not. Surely it doesn't matter."
"It does matter that you were there, though. I knew you, of all people, would know what it feels like to be betrayed on such a level."
"Yes, that's why I came. But - you seemed to have gotten your life back much, well, I would hesitate to use the word, 'easier' because I am sure it wasn't easy in any way. But, your way of approaching life did not seem to change, the way mine did."
"Don't forget, Jack, you were betrayed by your wife, by the woman with whom you'd had a child. While my family was killed, the person betraying us was only an informant - a trusted one to be sure - but not the person to whom I had pledged my love and honor."
"You're too easy on me."
"And you give me too much credit. To be perfectly honest-" and here he winced because
"Grandmama sometimes tells you things you don't want to hear!" the kids chorused, followed by the adults chorusing, "You're not kidding!"
"Watching how you had shut yourself down and avoided dealing with emotions was well, kind of an example of what not to do."
"Glad to know I came in handy in some fashion," Jack snarked. Then he caught her eyes and began to smile. "You know what really irritates me about you?"
"Let's see - my bright colors, the way I don't take life or the Agency seriously enough, the way I always joke around, the fact that you have NEVER ever scared me, or the fact that.."
"Alright already! How about the fact that you can always make me laugh!"
"How is that a bad thing?" she asked, chuckling.
"It just is!" Jack knew he sounded like a petulant three year old.
"See! It's just like Mom always says - men can be such babies when it comes to dealing with emotions!" the oldest girl announced. Which led to an argument between her parents, which Viv stopped by telling them to "Take it to the warehouse, please".
Seeing the look of amusement on Viv's face, Jack stopped. He realized he was pouting, which was so ridiculous in a man of his age, it was---
"Worth the price of admission just to see you act like a three year old," Viv finished his thought.
"And that's another thing - just how do you know what I am thinking?" Jack asked.
Viv said evenly, though her eyes were dancing with amusement, "To tell you the truth, Jack, I've never understood why everyone thinks you are so difficult to read. You seem like an open book to me and always have." She sat quietly and waited for him to digest that thought, which would surely be difficult for him to accept. It was so important for Jack to keep his secrets, so she could give him the space he needed until----
But with a gasp, Viv felt Jack lift her up by the waist and settle her back down on his lap. Gee, guess he didn't need that space, after all. "Okay, if I am so easy to read, what am I thinking now?"
"Well, judging by - the obvious - I am not so sure your brain is actually engaged in a thinking process, Jack," Viv laughed.
"Oh, I don't know about that - I am thinking, quite hard, as it were, about how this dress unfastens and how quickly I could get you out of it." Jack was grinning - how often did anyone get to see that?
"I see --- you hate this dress so much, you can't wait to remove it?" she asked archly.
"No, I love this dress so much I can't wait to see what's under it. Hmm, where should I start?"
"How about with a kiss? I've been waiting-"
"Forever, it seems?"
"See - now you're the one reading my mind!" With smiles, they reached for each other.
It didn't take Jack long to ascertain how to remove that little black dress. He began chuckling again, when he found the small knife strapped to her right thigh. "Geez, Viv, do you go anywhere without that knife?" he asked as he lifted her up. Well, those squash games with Sloane were apparently worth more than a way to keep his blood pressure in check if he could still lift her at his age.
As he carried her through the kitchen, his security light flashed. Both stiffened and Jack placed her on her own feet while he dashed over to the security panel. By the time he turned back, Viv had her knife out. He began laughing, "Really, Viv, you are too much. It's only ---"
But before he could finish the sentence, the door opened and Sydney and Vaughn strolled in. They stopped first at the rare sound of Jack's laughter and then their eyes widened at the sight before them. Viv had smoothly slid the knife into her thigh holster by the time he turned around and he belatedly realized that she was clad only in that knife and her lingerie. Beautiful lingerie, as a matter of fact, but probably not how she wanted to appear before Syd and her own nephew.
He threw his shirt toward her. She snatched it up. H e had to admire her aplomb. He knew his cheeks must be red, but she was not blushing as she stuck her arms into the shirt. Luckily, it covered her to mid thigh - knife height, he thought with a smile.
"For crying out loud, Viv - my eyes, my eyes. Can't you get dressed any faster?" Vaughn chortled. Really, that kid was getting annoying.
"Shut up, Michael." Even Viv sounded annoyed now. "What are you two doing here, anyway?"
"Well, Syd's mission was aborted and we both wanted to know how tonight's op went."
"What, our verbal reports from an hour ago weren't good enough?" she inquired, sweetly. That could mean nothing good - for Vaughn. "Or you thought that we could screw up such a simple op?"
"Um, well, no. It just, we wanted to know what, how you two - it was Syd's idea." Syd was looking at her non-boyfriend incredulously.
"My idea? What a weasel. That is so ridiculous!" she protested.
"Children, stop it." Jack said firmly.
Viv asked, in a vaguely curious tone, "So, just how did you two get here? Sydney obviously has reason to visit her father, but how did you get Michael here?"
As Syd and Vaughn launched into an explanation of their complicated scheme to get to Jack's house, Jack and Viv looked at each other. Luckily the younger couple were too occupied with their story (and each other, of course) to notice the conspiratorial looks between the older couple.
"So, how often do you two meet outside the CIA offices and how do you manage it?" Viv asked nonchalantly.
Like fools, Jack thought, they just accepted the question and gave Viv the answers.
"And you've never been caught by anyone at these meetings, correct?" Jack asked, helping Viv along.
"Correct," they answered simultaneously with identical tones of offense.
"Well," Viv said in the tone of voice that had it been directed at Jack would have sent him running for cover, "If you two are able to meet all over LA, to say nothing of spots around the world, with no one the wiser, I have one question." Pause. (She was good with the timing, Jack smiled inwardly, he did appreciate someone who understood the importance of precision in timing.) "Just what the hell is keeping the two of you from getting together?"
Shock, dismay, comprehension flowed across both Syd and Vaughn's faces. But before they could speak, Viv continued. "And please don't insult anyone's intelligence by pretending that there is nothing between the two of you. Everyone within a mile of you two-"
"-with the possible exception of Kendall," Jack interrupted.
"Okay, I'll amend my statement - anyone not totally self-absorbed with their own self-importance within a mile of you two can feel the vibes. To say nothing, Michael, of those looks you give Sydney and to say nothing, Sydney, of those smiles you give to Michael. So, here's the way I see it. One, the two of you obviously have strong feelings for each other. Even if I were blind, I could tell that from what you've done for each other. I've read your files after all."
"What? You've read our files? That's -" Vaughn stuttered to a halt.
"A total invasion of privacy? Absolutely. Breaking protocol? Certainly. Meddling? Of course. That's what family is for, Michael."
"My God, Vaughn! Viv and my dad are so alike it's scary." Syd whispered.
Viv continued, "Yeah, get over it. And, Michael, speaking of getting over it, you need to get over your"
"naïve sense of morality," Jack finished.
"Exactly, Jack. Rule book, smule book. And my original point. Work around the rule book. For two otherwise highly-intelligent people, I can't believe that you haven't figured out the obvious. If you can plan clandestine meetings for years for work, why can't you plan clandestine meetings for your personal life?"
In the face of their incredulous silence, Jack interrupted, "I agree. You two are agents, after all. It's the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen. And Lord knows, I've tried--" Jack stopped. Perhaps he should shut up at this point.
"Dad, what do you mean by that?" Sydney asked him with that glint in her eye that meant she was onto him.
Vaughn spoke up. "Wait a minute - I know. All of those situations in which you threw us together alone in the past two years - saying we could handle it on our own, which I never really believed by the way - was just your way of meddling, wasn't it?"
"You were trying to throw us together, so that ---" Sydney squeaked to a halt. Silence reigned momentarily.
"So that you two could get together and end the world's longest session of verbal foreplay." Viv could always be counted on to fill in the blanks.
At the word, "foreplay," both Syd and Vaughn's faces had frozen in shock. Well, that certainly shut the two of them up. Viv, however, had something more to say.
"Honestly, the characters in Jane Austen take less time to get together than you two!" She knew Sydney would understand the insult.
Vaughn recovered faster, judging by the speed with which his face turned a really unattractive shade of red. Well, Jack thought it was unattractive. Sydney probably liked it - she liked everything about the way Vaughn looked; he may have been her father but he could read her face when she was looking at Vaughn. And the way Vaughn looked at her, it made him extremely uncomfortable as her father. Really, how the two of them had kept out of each other's arms was a mystery. But maybe the level of frustration explained the anger in Vaughn's face and voice. In a torrent of rapid-fire French, he had begun berating his aunt. As usual, Viv remained calm, which of course only served to irritate her nephew even more.
She was good at this. Jack smiled as she calmly leaned against the counter, oblivious to her appearance in his shirt, stockings and a knife strapped to her thigh. He thought he'd like a photo of her like that, forget the smiley- face swim trunks.
Jack's smile seemed to irritate Vaughn even more as the younger man gestured angrily in his direction and began to speak even more rapidly. Luckily, both Bristows were more than fluent in French, although Jack thought Sydney might not know some of the more, well, crude, vernacular Vaughn was using right now. Then noting the look of confusion on Syd's face as they watched Vaughn gesture toward the knife and then continue his diatribe, he decided he needed to intervene.
"That's enough, Vaughn!" Jack said with quiet menace. "You will not talk to Vivienne like that. Take your frustration out in more appropriate and constructive ways with someone who can help you alleviate it." He heard Syd gasp.
"Now, the two of you should have better things to do than talk to us. We certainly have better things to do." Jack walked over to the door and opened it. "Take my advice and actually have an honest conversation - soon. Don't waste any more time."
"Did you notice that my dad didn't even ask why my mission was aborted?" Syd asked as they left.
"I think he's got other things on his mind, Syd." Vaughn answered sullenly. "And really, what's on their minds is way more than I wanted to know about either of them."
Syd inquired, "What was that last bit about, anyway? I couldn't quite catch- "
"Forget it, Syd, you really don't need to know, you really don't," Vaughn said as the door began to close behind them.
Viv said, "Stop talking about us, for crying out loud! Why do--"
"Do you always have to get the last word?" Jack asked.
"Well, I can think of situations in which I wouldn't mind having you have the last word." She answered slyly.
Jack walked over to the security control panel and reset it, shaking his head in bemusement. "Really, Vivienne, don't you think it was a bit much to tell the boy that we use your knife in foreplay?"
"Don't you think he needed a jolt or two?"
"Yeah, for years. But still, I hope he doesn't elaborate for Syd. I don't think, well, I hope she didn't really catch the drift of what you two were saying." He shuddered slightly as she laughed.
"Speaking of foreplay, you've got to admit that the looks on their faces when I accused them of years of verbal foreplay was priceless. Talk about deer caught in the headlights." She laughed again, then stopped at the startled look on Jack's face. "What?"
"Well, isn't that we did to a certain extent? Engage in years of verbal foreplay?" Jack asked.
"The problem isn't the amount of foreplay, darling, it's the follow- through," she smirked.
"I'll show you follow-through. And do you still have that knife on you? You gave me an idea or two," he laughed as he swung her up in his arms.
Needless to say, the grandkids got a cleaner version of the story. No one needed to know that much detail about their parents or grandparents, no matter what some New Age freak parenting guides might say. But then, they were all good at making sure the grandkids did not have an accurate idea of just who the four of them really were or had been. Jack would always say that the kids need never know just how scary any of the adults in their lives could be.
They had long ago worked out standard responses for the kids' questions. They always told the kids that Grandmama, for example, had been a "negotiator". When they were young and asked what "negotiator" meant, their dad had explained, "It's someone who can convince another person to do something or say something they would rather not do or say." Well, that was as good a description as any, he supposed. But, the kids didn't need to know that Grandmama was renowned for her ability to "persuade" recalcitrant captives to surrender information. When it was just the adults reminiscing, Jack and Viv often argued about which of the two of them was the scariest. Vaughn always irritated Jack by agreeing with him that Viv must be the scariest, by virtue of the fact that she was able to get Jack Bristow to talk. Vivienne would always have to get the last word, though. She would always say, "And Jack did I ever make you do anything you didn't really want to do?" He would always say with a smile, "Never. But then you were always good with that knife."