"Recoil"

Author: Waterdancer aka AquarianLady

Email: jch114@hotmail.com or jch0578@yahoo.com

Feedback: Yes

Distribution: Cover Me, Alias Uncovered, and aliasfanfiction list. Anyone else please ask.

Disclaimer: Um. If I owned any parts of Alias, you'd know it. All Alias related material are the property of JJ Abrams, Bad Robot, ABC, Touchstone TV, and anyone else who has a claim. Diana Rochelle, Nikolai Ludin, Agent Lareby, and Patrick Williams are mine.

Summary: A woman from Vaughn's past comes back

Rating: PG-13

Classification: Action/Adventure, General

A/N: This is the final chapter and epilogue, folks. Thank you to everyone who encouraged me with this fic in one shape or another.  Big sloppy thanks to Robin for sticking by me with this fic from the very beginning. You have no idea how much it means. 

***

Vaughn looked out his office window as he had for the past forty-eight hours, hoping that Diana would walk in and tell him that she had been in some government hospital recovering.  That she was sorry for worrying him. He knew that it was impossible that she was alive, but he'd always felt like anything was possible where she was concerned.  Except for maybe them. Maybe they had never been possible.

After talking through the night with Jacques, he'd really started to wonder if he and Diana ever had a chance at a normal life.  He felt for her as Jacques recounted all her tales of her time in Russia.  She had become a killer for the Greater Good, and as much as he'd like to imagine that she hadn't changed, that she was still the same woman that he once felt that he would marry, he knew that it was a lie.  She wasn't the same woman anymore than he was the same man.  Life had changed them both. Maybe not for the better.

"Vaughn?" 

He turned from his window—and his thoughts of the past--to face his best friend. "Weiss?  When'd they let you out of the hospital?"

"They didn't, but when I heard what happened, I sort of snuck out.  It was hard to leave L.A.'s best nurses," Weiss said with a sad smile.  He was using a crutch since his leg had not had the time to heal from the bullet wound the sniper had given him. "How are you?"

"Been better," Vaughn said, pointing at his bandaged injury. He frowned as his friend seemed be holding back something.  "What's wrong?"

"Lareby was just out in the hallway with an envelope for you. He told me it was from the fire, and he wanted to give it to you.  I convinced him that it would be better for me to do it.  He said that the fire burned so hot that the technicians were surprised that they were able to find it."

Even as he remembered the heat screaming off the flames consuming the warehouse, a cold feeling rushed over Vaughn.  "Whatever it is, how can they be sure it's mine?"

Eric tossed the manila envelope on the desk. "Because it has your name on it."

Vaughn ripped open the envelope and let the contents fall out.  It was the engagement ring that he'd given Diana. 

Say 'Yes'.  –Michael

"I'm sorry, Michael," Eric said as he walked out of his office.

Vaughn continued to stare at the ring. "Me, too," he said quietly.

***

Greg Lareby walked towards his car, anxiously looking over his shoulder.  He cursed himself for being so paranoid.  "It isn't like I killed her," he mumbled as he reached his car.  "All I had to do was tell them where to find her, and I did."  He nearly jumped out of his skin as the loud shrill of his cell phone startled him.

He pressed the talk button on his phone and waited.

"This is Agent Lareby, I presume," the clipped English voice started.

"It is," Lareby said evenly.

"I wanted to call to tell you that I've received Agent Rochelle.  She's a little worse for wear, but she'll do.   I can assure you that you will be receiving your payment shortly, Agent Lareby."

"Th-thank you," he said, a frown etching his face.  "What type of p-payment?"

The man on the other end laughed.  "The agreed upon amount."

"Of course, the agreed amount," Lareby repeated, feeling silly for still being paranoid.  "If there's nothing else—"

"No, Agent Lareby, there isn't anything else.  I'll be in touch."

"I'll expect it," Lareby replied as he closed his cell phone. He silently got into his car, and sank down into his seat.  He tried not to think of her smile or her asking him for advice.  He didn't want to think of her as a human being. She'd just been an assignment.  It wasn't like he killed her; he just carried out his part of the bargain.