Title: Beyond Transgression, 2/10
Author: Chocolatequeen
Email: g_chocolatequeen@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: ~Sigh~ I don't own any of it, not a bit.
Rating: PG
Archiving: Just ask
Summary: The timeline for this story falls within ATY, and each section leads to the next. However, it is primarily a series of flashbacks and introspectives.
Congress: "The act of coming together or meeting" (American Heritage Dictionary)
Chapter 2: Congress—Vaughn's POV
This time when I pull up to the warehouse, she's already there. Bursting through the doors, I see her sitting on a crate, her head in her hands. "Sydney, I'm so sorry about this but there's no reason to assume the worst. They used tranquilizers on the security team, which means they weren't out for blood. If this is a kidnapping, they'll contact us," I reassure her as I pace the length of the room.
I'm a little nervous to look at her, for fear of what her reaction is going to be. Sydney is such a take charge, gung ho person that I know it'll take me forever to talk her out of whatever she has planned. It was hard enough to convince her not to kill Khasinau before, but this is her friend. Sitting down, I brace myself and look her straight in the eye and find exactly what I was afraid of—the wild determination that is so much a part of who she is. This is why her next words take me by surprise.
"I'm just so scared for him. You'll contact me if you hear anything?"
She sounds… almost docile. I look at her a little closer and realize that this is completely countered by the fire in her eyes. But what concerns me the most is what I don't see. Always before I could see everything in her eyes, but today there is a wall there, as if she is saying "You can only know this much."
"Vaughn," she says, a little confused by my scrutiny. But as I look in her eyes, I see a flash of vexation, as if she's afraid that I saw too much, and is upset with herself for hiding something.
"What's going on?" I ask her, giving her a chance to level with me.
"What do you mean?" she replies, almost innocently. She's hiding something all right.
An hour later, I'm still contemplating what it could be. Unable to come up with anything, or maybe just not liking what I do come up with, I head for Eric's office. Even though he ripped into me last week for allowing my attachment to Sydney to affect my job performance, he's still my friend.
Once again, I'm pacing while I think out loud. "I haven't known Sydney that long, but I feel like I have. Like I know her well enough to know that she doesn't just accept problems. She tries to fix them."
"So, you think she'll try and get her friend back by using back channels?" he asks casually.
Almost too casually. Suddenly, I'm on my guard, trying to remember if I've said anything that could be used against Sydney. "Maybe," reply carefully.
"And why wouldn't she tell you?"
"The safe house was compromised. She doesn't exactly trust the CIA right now. Would you?" The question is pointed, designed to reveal his true intentions.
"Trust is a tricky thing," is his only response
I feel a hole open in the pit of my stomach and my heart falls through it, straight to my shoes. "What does that mean?"
Finally he shoots straight with me. "I think you need to fill Devlin in on what you've been thinking about Sydney."
"Not a chance," I tell him tightly.
"Michael—" he starts but I cut him off angrily.
"What, fill him in on conjecture?"
"I know this is a difficult time for you—" he tries again.
I don't believe this. Is he actually saying…? "What are you saying?" I ask, giving him the benefit of the doubt.
"Do not let your concern for Sydney get ahead—"
Exasperated, I sigh and shove my hand through my hair. "Eric, that's not—"
"—GET AHEAD of your responsibility to the Agency!"
"That's not what I'm doing here!" I shout at him just before Haladki pokes his head in the door. For once, I'm glad to see the weasel, or I might say something I would later regret.
That ended my "meeting" with Eric. I went straight to my office afterwards, and I've been here ever since, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. I know I haven't heard the last of this. But it's closing time now, and nothing has happened. For the first time all day I let myself take a deep breath. Walking down the hallway, I relish the relief of not being turned in. I step onto the elevator just in time to see my secretary come racing around the corner after me.
"Agent Vaughn! I'm so glad I caught you!"
"What is it?"
"Mr. Devlin wants to see you in his office right away," she answers, slightly out of breath.
I'm not sure if the "thud!" is my heart hitting the floor, or the sound of that other shoe dropping. Either way, I know exactly what was going on. Turning around, I make my way into Devlin's office and take a seat next to Weiss.
Looking around, I spy Haldki seated on the other side of the room. What in Hades is he doing here? "So, I'm confused. Why was I called in here?" I ask, playing it close to the vest.
Devlin answers before anyone else can. "Mr. Weiss mentioned that you were suspicious of Sydney Bristow."
Glancing over at Weiss, I toke a moment to think of the best way to undue the damage my loose tongue had done. "When I mentioned I was suspicious, I simply meant that Sydney seemed troubled," I say carefully.
"But that isn't the word you used, is it?" Haladki questions.
The weasel has always been resentful of my position in the SD-6 case, especially since my promotion came through. I'm fine with that, as long as he directs it at me. But when he aims it at Sydney… that's just too much. With measured calm, I answer, "What I said was I feel I have an understanding of Sydney Bristow and that she doesn't just accept problems, she tries to fix them."
"And that perhaps Ms. Bristow and her father are trying to secure release of Mr. Tippin on their own?"
That calm is fast disintegrating with every word that comes out of his mouth. "It was just a conversation. I have—"
Finally Devlin cuts in. "Is it your opinion, Mr. Vaughn, that Ms. Bristow is hiding something from you? Hiding something from the Central Intelligence Agency?"
Talk about cutting to the heart of the matter. As much as I don't want to answer the question, or don't like what the answer means, I have no choice. I shoot one last look of betrayal at Weiss, who studiously avoids my glance "Yes, sir," I tell him, knowing that I may have just signed Will Tippin's death warrant, as well as ended the careers of two fellow agents. Man, I hate these meetings.
Author: Chocolatequeen
Email: g_chocolatequeen@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: ~Sigh~ I don't own any of it, not a bit.
Rating: PG
Archiving: Just ask
Summary: The timeline for this story falls within ATY, and each section leads to the next. However, it is primarily a series of flashbacks and introspectives.
Congress: "The act of coming together or meeting" (American Heritage Dictionary)
Chapter 2: Congress—Vaughn's POV
This time when I pull up to the warehouse, she's already there. Bursting through the doors, I see her sitting on a crate, her head in her hands. "Sydney, I'm so sorry about this but there's no reason to assume the worst. They used tranquilizers on the security team, which means they weren't out for blood. If this is a kidnapping, they'll contact us," I reassure her as I pace the length of the room.
I'm a little nervous to look at her, for fear of what her reaction is going to be. Sydney is such a take charge, gung ho person that I know it'll take me forever to talk her out of whatever she has planned. It was hard enough to convince her not to kill Khasinau before, but this is her friend. Sitting down, I brace myself and look her straight in the eye and find exactly what I was afraid of—the wild determination that is so much a part of who she is. This is why her next words take me by surprise.
"I'm just so scared for him. You'll contact me if you hear anything?"
She sounds… almost docile. I look at her a little closer and realize that this is completely countered by the fire in her eyes. But what concerns me the most is what I don't see. Always before I could see everything in her eyes, but today there is a wall there, as if she is saying "You can only know this much."
"Vaughn," she says, a little confused by my scrutiny. But as I look in her eyes, I see a flash of vexation, as if she's afraid that I saw too much, and is upset with herself for hiding something.
"What's going on?" I ask her, giving her a chance to level with me.
"What do you mean?" she replies, almost innocently. She's hiding something all right.
An hour later, I'm still contemplating what it could be. Unable to come up with anything, or maybe just not liking what I do come up with, I head for Eric's office. Even though he ripped into me last week for allowing my attachment to Sydney to affect my job performance, he's still my friend.
Once again, I'm pacing while I think out loud. "I haven't known Sydney that long, but I feel like I have. Like I know her well enough to know that she doesn't just accept problems. She tries to fix them."
"So, you think she'll try and get her friend back by using back channels?" he asks casually.
Almost too casually. Suddenly, I'm on my guard, trying to remember if I've said anything that could be used against Sydney. "Maybe," reply carefully.
"And why wouldn't she tell you?"
"The safe house was compromised. She doesn't exactly trust the CIA right now. Would you?" The question is pointed, designed to reveal his true intentions.
"Trust is a tricky thing," is his only response
I feel a hole open in the pit of my stomach and my heart falls through it, straight to my shoes. "What does that mean?"
Finally he shoots straight with me. "I think you need to fill Devlin in on what you've been thinking about Sydney."
"Not a chance," I tell him tightly.
"Michael—" he starts but I cut him off angrily.
"What, fill him in on conjecture?"
"I know this is a difficult time for you—" he tries again.
I don't believe this. Is he actually saying…? "What are you saying?" I ask, giving him the benefit of the doubt.
"Do not let your concern for Sydney get ahead—"
Exasperated, I sigh and shove my hand through my hair. "Eric, that's not—"
"—GET AHEAD of your responsibility to the Agency!"
"That's not what I'm doing here!" I shout at him just before Haladki pokes his head in the door. For once, I'm glad to see the weasel, or I might say something I would later regret.
That ended my "meeting" with Eric. I went straight to my office afterwards, and I've been here ever since, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. I know I haven't heard the last of this. But it's closing time now, and nothing has happened. For the first time all day I let myself take a deep breath. Walking down the hallway, I relish the relief of not being turned in. I step onto the elevator just in time to see my secretary come racing around the corner after me.
"Agent Vaughn! I'm so glad I caught you!"
"What is it?"
"Mr. Devlin wants to see you in his office right away," she answers, slightly out of breath.
I'm not sure if the "thud!" is my heart hitting the floor, or the sound of that other shoe dropping. Either way, I know exactly what was going on. Turning around, I make my way into Devlin's office and take a seat next to Weiss.
Looking around, I spy Haldki seated on the other side of the room. What in Hades is he doing here? "So, I'm confused. Why was I called in here?" I ask, playing it close to the vest.
Devlin answers before anyone else can. "Mr. Weiss mentioned that you were suspicious of Sydney Bristow."
Glancing over at Weiss, I toke a moment to think of the best way to undue the damage my loose tongue had done. "When I mentioned I was suspicious, I simply meant that Sydney seemed troubled," I say carefully.
"But that isn't the word you used, is it?" Haladki questions.
The weasel has always been resentful of my position in the SD-6 case, especially since my promotion came through. I'm fine with that, as long as he directs it at me. But when he aims it at Sydney… that's just too much. With measured calm, I answer, "What I said was I feel I have an understanding of Sydney Bristow and that she doesn't just accept problems, she tries to fix them."
"And that perhaps Ms. Bristow and her father are trying to secure release of Mr. Tippin on their own?"
That calm is fast disintegrating with every word that comes out of his mouth. "It was just a conversation. I have—"
Finally Devlin cuts in. "Is it your opinion, Mr. Vaughn, that Ms. Bristow is hiding something from you? Hiding something from the Central Intelligence Agency?"
Talk about cutting to the heart of the matter. As much as I don't want to answer the question, or don't like what the answer means, I have no choice. I shoot one last look of betrayal at Weiss, who studiously avoids my glance "Yes, sir," I tell him, knowing that I may have just signed Will Tippin's death warrant, as well as ended the careers of two fellow agents. Man, I hate these meetings.