Author's Note: Just like to thank all the people who take the time to review- you guys really are amazing. Thank you so much. Oh, and to apologise to people in advance for any mistakes made about Montreal, or in my French, as it's very limited.
Vaughn blinked blearily in the early morning light and reached up to wipe his eyes, hitting himself fairly hard with his cast. He glared at it, then leaned over to glance at the clock. It was hard to believe that this was his third day in the safe house. He looked out the window at the beautiful clear day outside. He nodded decisively, swung his feet out of bed and pulled on a pair of sweat pants and a shirt. Then he laced up a pair of jogging shoes awkwardly and stood up.
He walked into the kitchen, grabbed a banana and was about to leave when he heard Sydney in the other room. He glanced inside and saw her doing some kind of yoga style work out. Watching her stretch her body that way seemed vaguely pervy, so he jogged quietly out the front door.
Vaughn walked back inside the door, his face sweaty from the jog he'd just taken. He pulled his shirt off awkwardly with one hand and threw it into a laundry basket. A single trickle of sweat dribbled down his chest, and he wiped it off irritably. Then he poured himself a drink of water and walked into the lounge area. Sydney was sitting on the floor, normal clothing replaced with lightweight tracksuit pants and a singlet top. Vaughn settled himself on the floor in front of her.
"How was it your jog?" she asked. She splayed her legs out and in front of her. Her hands grasped her feet and she folded until her chest sat flat against her legs. Vaughn winced slightly and she frowned up at him.
"Scenic," he replied simply, still staring at her. He frowned and cocked his head to one side.
"There is something inherently wrong about that," he stated. Sydney smiled at him, then spun one leg across the floor and rolled over herself, momentarily spreading her legs in horizontal splits, before finishing the contortion, face down. Her legs bent at the knees and she lifted her lower legs behind her. At the same time she pressed her torso off the floor until her toes touched the back of her head. Vaughn frowned at her as if she were some kind of optical illusion. Or a human pretzel.
"Doesn't that hurt?" he asked plaintively. Sydney grinned at him, eyes laughing.
"Only if you don't know what you're doing," she replied. She unfolded herself and stood in one fluid motion. Vaughn looked up at her, and she stretched her calf muscles. After a few minutes she settled herself back down on the floor, breathing deeply and regularly. Vaughn looked sheepish.
"I see why you're the field agent and I'm not," he cracked. Sydney laughed, then started to rise.
"What are we going to do today?" she asked. Vaughn's face sobered.
"Devlin rang while you were asleep. We're to brush up on our French," he said. Sydney frowned curiously.
"Why?" she asked. Vaughn shrugged.
"He didn't say," he replied, his face puzzled.
*
Francie looked around her new hotel room and sighed. The flight over had been hell. She'd been stuck next to an elderly woman who didn't speak a word of English and a four year boy who kept asking questions. If she heard another "Pourquoi?" again she was going to scream. It wouldn't have been as bad if she could have spoken to Eric, but he couldn't be seen with her. Security reasons or something. Francie sighed and walked to the window.
Montréal. Francie had never been to this part of Canada before, and a small part of her was excited. A very small part. The idea of staring the Alliance in the face and lying scared her more than she would ever admit. She turned away from the window at the sound of her phone ringing. She sighed and picked up to answer it.
"Allo?" she said, hoping her accent was passable. It obviously was.
"Francie? C'est toi?" came what was obviously Weiss' voice. Francie struggled not to laugh at his atrocious accent.
"Yes, it's me. Didn't recognise me huh?" she joked. Weiss chuckled.
"You do that nearly as well as Mike, and he's a native speaker," he said. Francie blushed.
"Merci beaucoup," Francie giggled, then became serious.
"Francie, Jack just rang me. A representative of the Alliance is going to meet you at Rue St Cathèrine. You're to wear a red blouse and a blue scarf. Someone will approach you and ask where the Café Musain is. Tell them to go up to the second street, then turn left. After that, take the next taxi that arrives- it will take you to the meeting place. Did you get that?"
Francie nodded, then realised that he couldn't see it down the phone.
"Yeah, I got it," she replied, her voice shaking slightly. She hoped Eric hadn't noticed.
"You'll do fine," Eric said. So much for him not noticing. Francie sighed, then looked at her suitcase.
"I suppose I had better go and find the right clothing," she sighed. There was a short pause.
"Promise me that you'll take care," Eric whispered. Francie smiled in spite of herself.
"I promise," she said before placing the phone gently on the receiver. She turned to her suitcase, her face grim.
Author's Note: Still doing those exams, but nearly finished! Then I can spend some more time actually doing stuff other than study! Anyway, feedback is always welcome J and thank you again to everyone who has reviewed.