Alias - Stalking the Truth
by theONLYone -|therealonlyone@yahoo.com|-
(key:) = - scene change, [xy:] - voiceover by xy, /*/*\*\ - flashback, \*\*/*/ - end flashback
=====
Sydney pushed open the glass door and stepped into line behind Vaughn, swinging her purse on to her right shoulder. She had timed everything precisely. A strange feeling from somewhere near her stomach caused her to smile stupidly at him, cursing inwardly at the same time. He gave a curt nod and looked through the window in front of them. For a few moments they stood, watching doughnuts being made on the other side of the glass.
[Sydney: Don't get me wrong, I love Krispy Kreme doughnut stores as much as the next person. I love how you can watch how the doughnuts are made, everything from maiking the dough to baking perfect circles to showering glaze on them. The rotating oven. And the conveyer belt that the doughnuts go on when they're cooled and glazed. But the absolute best part is eating them: feeling the doughnut smush under your teeth, licking the glaze off your fingertips. Classic. Everything would—and could, possibly—be comfortable, even with Vaughn here. Except it isn't. Whatever happened to the warehouse? Someone better tell me.]
"Would you like a sample?" Sydney spun around, startled. Lo and behold, there was a young bleached-blonde boy decked out in a signature Krispy Kreme green apron offering her a doughnut.
"No thanks," she replied, smiling at him. She heard Vaughn accept the hot pastry as she watched the sampler hit on several other women her own age (which caused her to wonder why he hadn't attempted to flirt with her) before reaching the start of the line and going back to the end for any new customers.
"Call this giving in to temptation, but the smell of the glaze is making me wish I had a doughnut. Could I have some of yours?" Sydney asked suddenly, feeling totally out of character and wishing she could take it back. This is not Will, she told herself.
Vaughn held out on her for a moment, most likely wondering if this breach in anonymity was worth it. "Sure." He held it out to Sydney, who blew on it before she took a bite—her teeth un-puffing the doughnut, her tongue melting the hot and fresh sugar. It gave her an 'everything's gonna be alright' feeling and a warmth that reached out to her fingertips. She looked up at Vaughn.
Apparently, Vaughn had been expecting her to take half or something because a look of surprise crossed over his face as Sydney said a quick, "Thanks," and licked her lips, giving Vaughn a slight smile. His uptight self relaxed then—Sydney could see his shoulders loosen. He bit into the hot doughnut and walked forward in the line.
"Sorry for leaving so suddenly after dinner," Vaughn said suddenly, staring at a row of doughnuts moving under a waterfall of glaze. "My beeper went off." He crumpled up the baker's paper his doughnut had been in.
"Mine did too," Sydney replied, "so you don't have to apologize." She remembered that she had closed the door on his retreating figure, almost sighing as she locked it.
"I should have said something like I'll call you or something like that."
"No, really—it's okay. Unless Francie hadn't hit the sack ten seconds after she walked in; then she would have grilled me on your 'goodnight kissing' abilities." She grinned to herself, imagining Francie actually asking her, 'So, how does he kiss?' Her cheeks went pink. She slid her purse down her arm and grasped the handle with both hands.
"You did well in Beijing. We now know who and where their contacts are."
"Good."
There they stood in silence, until Vaughn was finally next in line.
"May I help you?" asked a short brunette with a green apron on.
"Six original glazed, please."
The girl filled a small box and handed it to him, reminding him to pay at the counter. She then went to the customer standing behind Sydney and smiled.
"Escuse me?" Sydney said. The girl looked back at her, confused. So did Vaughn, who had stopped momentarily. "I'd like to order." Vaughn continued.
"Oh, I'm so sorry! I thought you were with him... Sorry. What would you like?"
Sydney gave the flustered girl a grin. "It's ok. I'd like two devil's food." After a second, she added, "In a bag." She was handed a small bag and headed toward the counter, stepping into a line next to the one Vaughn was in. It seemed to be moving too slowly.
/*/*\*\
Ophelia, Greece; the Ophelia state capital building—
"The press office is just down that hall, miss," said the receptionist in English, with only a trace of a Greek accent.
"Thank you." Sydney spoke with a Englander's lilt.
"Would you like an escort?"
Sydney knew what she was really saying was, 'These parts are not safe for a lone foreigner, even on business.'
"No," Sydney replied. "I've brought another reporter with me. Giles?" Dixon looked up from the newspaper he was reading. Sydney nodded, and he set the paper down.
Dixon tilted his head slightly. "Ready?" he asked once he had reached her, also speaking like a Brit.
"Of course."
\*\*/*/
By the time she started towards her Jeep, Vaughn had disappeared. When she opened her purse to find her keys (they hadn't been in her coat pocket) she found a note.
"So, how do I kiss?"
=====
"Francie! I have doughnuts," Sydney called from the doorway. After her trip to Krispy Kreme's, she had stopped by the Credit Dauphine building for a few hours, filling out paperwork. It was now 9:45 in the evening.
She slung her coat over her arm and walked into the rest of the house.
There was Vaughn in jeans and a t-shirt, sitting next to Francie on the couch. He stood up when he saw Sydney walk into the living room with her eyebrows raised questioningly. Uncomfortable as she felt, she gave a huge smile and laid her coat over the arm of an armchair, placing the bag of doughnuts on the table. She couldn't think of anything to say as she fixed the collar of her black blouse.
Francie stood as well. "Before you can say anything, I invited Michael over." Sydney had half a mind to ask Francie who Michael was before she realized that he was Vaughn. "He called and I picked up. He didn't know that we're roommates, but he said he had doughnuts and I immediately said that he was a saint and could come over any time he felt like it." She gave Sydney a vulnerable smile. "Is that okay with you?"
"Yeah, it's fine." Of course it wasn't. Sydney could not mix her work life and private life. SD-6 would find out about his repeated visits to her house, and do a background check on him. They would find out he was CIA, possibly get rid of him.
She couldn't put his life in danger.
As if he could read her thoughts, Vaughn looked up at Sydney and said, "I won't come that often, with work and all." Meaning: 'I'll probably never come back.' Sydney relaxed a little bit.
"What do you guys do in that place?" Francie asked. Vaughn and Sydney looked at each other, the look plainly saying 'You don't know the half of it.' Francie shook her head before speaking of a much lighter subject: "Let's have some doughnuts!"
=====
Will sat at his desk, somehow uncomfortable in surroundings that now felt like home. He repositioned himself in his chair. The hustle and bustle around him was tuned out as he closed his eyes and leaned back, trying to relax.
Sydney had not called him in three days. No problem, she was probably on a trip or something. His shoulders tensed up—usually she at least left a message when she left. So he didn't come by while neither she nor Francie was home and ring the doorbell like an idiot.
A voice stopped his random thoughts.
"Okay, Tippin—let's have your article." His advisor. She might as well have been called his boss.
"My what? Oh. Right, right. I don't think I did one."
"What are you talking about? That tiny thing on that park opening you couldn't get around to doing? That's what you get paid the big bucks for, Mr. Tippin, but I can make them turn into small bucks, or even no bucks."
"Gettin' Warbucks..."
"Excuse me?"
"Annie. The play? Movie? Er, never mind."
"That I will. But I expect that article done by tomorrow."
"Yes ma'am." Will looked down at his desk and shuffled some papers around, looking for the sheet his assignment was on.
"At ease, soldier." Rebecca, standing at his desk.
"Hello, Rebecca. Have you seen my—"
"Assignment sheet? Got it right here." She handed it to him.
"Where would I be without you?" he replied, skimming the paper.
"Stalking the Bristow character." He glanced up sharply, but she was smiling.
"Right. I'm sure I would be." Will scratched his head and turned to his computer.
=====
"We have received some intel regarding Viral Vidal." Sloane looked at Sydney and smiled. "Thanks to Miss Bristow's good work in Beijing, we now have his list of recent contacts. Now, Agents Bristow and Dixon, you are going to Tokyo. We need to infiltrate Vidal's cover: a factory."
He pressed a button and stood up. The pictures on the screens changed to a large white building with two walls covered with what seemed to be cartoons. "To be specific, a cartoon factory. One level of this building is where top animators in Japan work, the other is where the top agents of Vidal's agency work. You will stay there as security guards for four days gathering intel—no more, no less." He watched Dixon and Sydney, looking for something that would show that they were opposed to staying in one place that long. Neither moved. However, Sydney had shared a sharp glance at her father, who suddenly spoke up.
"Sir, Sydney has school. She can not miss that many classes or she will be forced to drop them, losing all the hard work she has put in all semester."
"This mission will take place during the Columbus Day weekend." Two weeks ahead.
Jack Bristow silenced. He really needed to look at a calendar. Sydney shifted in her seat. She knew Francie was going to be pissed because she had promised they would go on a shopping spree that weekend. Dixon stared at the computer screen. He couldn't stand cartoons, least of all japanimation. An excited vibe flowed from the other side of the room.
Sloane turned to his right. "Marshall?"
a/n this chap's been messed with, so it seems much better! Ophelia is made up, i bet greece is actually safe [hello olympics], and i dont even kno if they have states there, even if i did do a project on it some time in middle school [how i can remember that is beyond me]. ugh, i kno this chap is way too cutesy, even for me, so dont say anything about that. but if you liked it, you are obliged to voice your opinion. out here waiting for vaughn to have found his way through the vent system of that building and find sydney and start kissing her like some sort of lovelorn maniac: tOo.
by theONLYone -|therealonlyone@yahoo.com|-
(key:) = - scene change, [xy:] - voiceover by xy, /*/*\*\ - flashback, \*\*/*/ - end flashback
=====
Sydney pushed open the glass door and stepped into line behind Vaughn, swinging her purse on to her right shoulder. She had timed everything precisely. A strange feeling from somewhere near her stomach caused her to smile stupidly at him, cursing inwardly at the same time. He gave a curt nod and looked through the window in front of them. For a few moments they stood, watching doughnuts being made on the other side of the glass.
[Sydney: Don't get me wrong, I love Krispy Kreme doughnut stores as much as the next person. I love how you can watch how the doughnuts are made, everything from maiking the dough to baking perfect circles to showering glaze on them. The rotating oven. And the conveyer belt that the doughnuts go on when they're cooled and glazed. But the absolute best part is eating them: feeling the doughnut smush under your teeth, licking the glaze off your fingertips. Classic. Everything would—and could, possibly—be comfortable, even with Vaughn here. Except it isn't. Whatever happened to the warehouse? Someone better tell me.]
"Would you like a sample?" Sydney spun around, startled. Lo and behold, there was a young bleached-blonde boy decked out in a signature Krispy Kreme green apron offering her a doughnut.
"No thanks," she replied, smiling at him. She heard Vaughn accept the hot pastry as she watched the sampler hit on several other women her own age (which caused her to wonder why he hadn't attempted to flirt with her) before reaching the start of the line and going back to the end for any new customers.
"Call this giving in to temptation, but the smell of the glaze is making me wish I had a doughnut. Could I have some of yours?" Sydney asked suddenly, feeling totally out of character and wishing she could take it back. This is not Will, she told herself.
Vaughn held out on her for a moment, most likely wondering if this breach in anonymity was worth it. "Sure." He held it out to Sydney, who blew on it before she took a bite—her teeth un-puffing the doughnut, her tongue melting the hot and fresh sugar. It gave her an 'everything's gonna be alright' feeling and a warmth that reached out to her fingertips. She looked up at Vaughn.
Apparently, Vaughn had been expecting her to take half or something because a look of surprise crossed over his face as Sydney said a quick, "Thanks," and licked her lips, giving Vaughn a slight smile. His uptight self relaxed then—Sydney could see his shoulders loosen. He bit into the hot doughnut and walked forward in the line.
"Sorry for leaving so suddenly after dinner," Vaughn said suddenly, staring at a row of doughnuts moving under a waterfall of glaze. "My beeper went off." He crumpled up the baker's paper his doughnut had been in.
"Mine did too," Sydney replied, "so you don't have to apologize." She remembered that she had closed the door on his retreating figure, almost sighing as she locked it.
"I should have said something like I'll call you or something like that."
"No, really—it's okay. Unless Francie hadn't hit the sack ten seconds after she walked in; then she would have grilled me on your 'goodnight kissing' abilities." She grinned to herself, imagining Francie actually asking her, 'So, how does he kiss?' Her cheeks went pink. She slid her purse down her arm and grasped the handle with both hands.
"You did well in Beijing. We now know who and where their contacts are."
"Good."
There they stood in silence, until Vaughn was finally next in line.
"May I help you?" asked a short brunette with a green apron on.
"Six original glazed, please."
The girl filled a small box and handed it to him, reminding him to pay at the counter. She then went to the customer standing behind Sydney and smiled.
"Escuse me?" Sydney said. The girl looked back at her, confused. So did Vaughn, who had stopped momentarily. "I'd like to order." Vaughn continued.
"Oh, I'm so sorry! I thought you were with him... Sorry. What would you like?"
Sydney gave the flustered girl a grin. "It's ok. I'd like two devil's food." After a second, she added, "In a bag." She was handed a small bag and headed toward the counter, stepping into a line next to the one Vaughn was in. It seemed to be moving too slowly.
/*/*\*\
Ophelia, Greece; the Ophelia state capital building—
"The press office is just down that hall, miss," said the receptionist in English, with only a trace of a Greek accent.
"Thank you." Sydney spoke with a Englander's lilt.
"Would you like an escort?"
Sydney knew what she was really saying was, 'These parts are not safe for a lone foreigner, even on business.'
"No," Sydney replied. "I've brought another reporter with me. Giles?" Dixon looked up from the newspaper he was reading. Sydney nodded, and he set the paper down.
Dixon tilted his head slightly. "Ready?" he asked once he had reached her, also speaking like a Brit.
"Of course."
\*\*/*/
By the time she started towards her Jeep, Vaughn had disappeared. When she opened her purse to find her keys (they hadn't been in her coat pocket) she found a note.
"So, how do I kiss?"
=====
"Francie! I have doughnuts," Sydney called from the doorway. After her trip to Krispy Kreme's, she had stopped by the Credit Dauphine building for a few hours, filling out paperwork. It was now 9:45 in the evening.
She slung her coat over her arm and walked into the rest of the house.
There was Vaughn in jeans and a t-shirt, sitting next to Francie on the couch. He stood up when he saw Sydney walk into the living room with her eyebrows raised questioningly. Uncomfortable as she felt, she gave a huge smile and laid her coat over the arm of an armchair, placing the bag of doughnuts on the table. She couldn't think of anything to say as she fixed the collar of her black blouse.
Francie stood as well. "Before you can say anything, I invited Michael over." Sydney had half a mind to ask Francie who Michael was before she realized that he was Vaughn. "He called and I picked up. He didn't know that we're roommates, but he said he had doughnuts and I immediately said that he was a saint and could come over any time he felt like it." She gave Sydney a vulnerable smile. "Is that okay with you?"
"Yeah, it's fine." Of course it wasn't. Sydney could not mix her work life and private life. SD-6 would find out about his repeated visits to her house, and do a background check on him. They would find out he was CIA, possibly get rid of him.
She couldn't put his life in danger.
As if he could read her thoughts, Vaughn looked up at Sydney and said, "I won't come that often, with work and all." Meaning: 'I'll probably never come back.' Sydney relaxed a little bit.
"What do you guys do in that place?" Francie asked. Vaughn and Sydney looked at each other, the look plainly saying 'You don't know the half of it.' Francie shook her head before speaking of a much lighter subject: "Let's have some doughnuts!"
=====
Will sat at his desk, somehow uncomfortable in surroundings that now felt like home. He repositioned himself in his chair. The hustle and bustle around him was tuned out as he closed his eyes and leaned back, trying to relax.
Sydney had not called him in three days. No problem, she was probably on a trip or something. His shoulders tensed up—usually she at least left a message when she left. So he didn't come by while neither she nor Francie was home and ring the doorbell like an idiot.
A voice stopped his random thoughts.
"Okay, Tippin—let's have your article." His advisor. She might as well have been called his boss.
"My what? Oh. Right, right. I don't think I did one."
"What are you talking about? That tiny thing on that park opening you couldn't get around to doing? That's what you get paid the big bucks for, Mr. Tippin, but I can make them turn into small bucks, or even no bucks."
"Gettin' Warbucks..."
"Excuse me?"
"Annie. The play? Movie? Er, never mind."
"That I will. But I expect that article done by tomorrow."
"Yes ma'am." Will looked down at his desk and shuffled some papers around, looking for the sheet his assignment was on.
"At ease, soldier." Rebecca, standing at his desk.
"Hello, Rebecca. Have you seen my—"
"Assignment sheet? Got it right here." She handed it to him.
"Where would I be without you?" he replied, skimming the paper.
"Stalking the Bristow character." He glanced up sharply, but she was smiling.
"Right. I'm sure I would be." Will scratched his head and turned to his computer.
=====
"We have received some intel regarding Viral Vidal." Sloane looked at Sydney and smiled. "Thanks to Miss Bristow's good work in Beijing, we now have his list of recent contacts. Now, Agents Bristow and Dixon, you are going to Tokyo. We need to infiltrate Vidal's cover: a factory."
He pressed a button and stood up. The pictures on the screens changed to a large white building with two walls covered with what seemed to be cartoons. "To be specific, a cartoon factory. One level of this building is where top animators in Japan work, the other is where the top agents of Vidal's agency work. You will stay there as security guards for four days gathering intel—no more, no less." He watched Dixon and Sydney, looking for something that would show that they were opposed to staying in one place that long. Neither moved. However, Sydney had shared a sharp glance at her father, who suddenly spoke up.
"Sir, Sydney has school. She can not miss that many classes or she will be forced to drop them, losing all the hard work she has put in all semester."
"This mission will take place during the Columbus Day weekend." Two weeks ahead.
Jack Bristow silenced. He really needed to look at a calendar. Sydney shifted in her seat. She knew Francie was going to be pissed because she had promised they would go on a shopping spree that weekend. Dixon stared at the computer screen. He couldn't stand cartoons, least of all japanimation. An excited vibe flowed from the other side of the room.
Sloane turned to his right. "Marshall?"
a/n this chap's been messed with, so it seems much better! Ophelia is made up, i bet greece is actually safe [hello olympics], and i dont even kno if they have states there, even if i did do a project on it some time in middle school [how i can remember that is beyond me]. ugh, i kno this chap is way too cutesy, even for me, so dont say anything about that. but if you liked it, you are obliged to voice your opinion. out here waiting for vaughn to have found his way through the vent system of that building and find sydney and start kissing her like some sort of lovelorn maniac: tOo.