Disclaimer: Same as before. Don't own anything of value except a brain, and even that is under speculation. Don't sue!
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Chapter 2
You know, they say that you can discover more about a person in an hour of play than in a year of conversation. But what if you never get to play?
Well, I shouldn't say never: Nice was as close to playing as Vaughn and I have ever gotten. Despite the uncomfortable and mortifying beginning (and incessantly calling him "Vaughn"), it was one of the most wonderful nights of my life. Ah! But I'm getting ahead of myself now.
James Baldwin is one of my heroes. Not really: I've only heard of him once or twice during literature classes. But I remembered one thing about him: he said/wrote some really profound stuff. James Baldwin once said, "One can only face in others what one can face in oneself." And I'd have just one question to ask him. What if you can't face yourself? Because I certainly can't.
I hate my abilities: my ability to lie, to cheat, to steal. If I took the Bible literally (black and white, no grey area), I would be so damned to Hell. Damned to the deepest, most fiery pit: the rock bottom. See, there would be rock bottom, SD-6 torture, fifty feet of crap, then me. Can't you just feel the love?
Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to vent for a while, get up on my soapbox, if you will. I know what you're thinking and yes, I probably should be spending my once-in-a-blue-moon time off doing something more productive. But you know what I say? Why the hell not? I do it all the time, especially when I'm bored; thinking about the what-ifs is kinda like my equivalent of doodling or picking the dirt from fingernails. This is my most valued time, the time that I can be completely truthful and honest, so you'll forgive me if I branch off onto miscellaneous thoughts or memories. I'm not sure how much "down time" I'll have before my next wrong number, so I'll try not to bore you with details and be frank. I would start at the beginning, but there seems to be some controversy as to when that actually was. So…judgement call time! (Don't you just love those? Not.) I'll spin around in a circle, close my eyes, point my finger, and stop randomly…
What if I hadn't taken up SD-6's offer? Yeah. I believe this is a possible starting point; pretty much everything went downhill from here. If I hadn't taken the job at SD-6, I would probably still be in college or even grad school; I haven't had a lot of time to dedicate to my studies, what with being a double agent and all. But I guess I would've gotten swept up into this whole government-conspiracy mess in the end. Dad, with his irrepressible need to involve me and complicate my life, would have found a way to include me in the takedown of SD-6. No ifs, ands, or buts about it; he knows I'm smart enough for the job. I mean, come on! Project Christmas ring a bell, anybody? It's my freakin' destiny to be able to serve this country. If I hadn't, though, Danny would be alive and, hey, we could probably be married by now. Now that I think about it, I'm not quite sure how I feel about that. If I had followed through with the engagement and gotten married, where would Michael Vaughn be in all of this? Oh, but I forgot: if I hadn't accepted SD-6 employment, I wouldn't have felt compelled to become a double agent and, therefore, no contact with Vaughn. Wow. That puts a whole new spin on things.
Along the same vein, what if Sloane hadn't had Danny killed? What if I hadn't told Danny? Or what if I had just explained to him that we could only talk about my "situation" face to face in a secure location? I always sigh when I think about this; my immense stupidity just astounds me. I couldn't have just kept my mouth shut or lied through my teeth like I do to everyone else who's close to me: no, that would have been too easy. But I won't dwell on that; you know what they say: hindsight is twenty-twenty. If Danny was still alive (and I was still pulling the wool over Sloane's eyes), there is no doubt in my mind that we would no longer be engaged. Danny was the type of person who couldn't be lied to for long without knowing something was up. And he would not have stuck around if he had the knowledge that his fiancée had been keeping him in the dark at every turn. Then there's the V.F.: Vaughn Factor. Now that I think about it, he would have definitely had a say in how my love life played out. I would have probably been too reluctant to wear my engagement ring around him, leading Vaughn on with the pretense that this strange "Danny" person I kept blabbering about only really existed in my head.
Speaking of ring, where did I put that sucker? I can't remember. I know I did not sell it or throw it away: there was way too many unresolved issues with that article of jewelry to just pass it on to some unsuspecting victim. Oh, yes, it's coming back to me. It's probably still wedged under my mattress next to my diary that I haven't touched in God only knows how long. I've really got to start writing in it more…Oh yeah…Right…
I've wondered about this next one quite often. What if my family was different? Okay, now take what you're thinking and toss it out the window; that's not what I mean. What I'm talking about is mostly my family's behavior and how it affects/affected my view and selection of men. If my father hadn't incessantly betrayed me (first by including me in Project Christmas and then lying about it later), would I be less wary of the men in my life? Less prone to asking questions about loyal intimacy? Maybe. Perhaps I wouldn't have this nagging feeling radiating from my gut every time Vaughn promises something. I know I wouldn't have been as guarded as I was on our date in Nice; while on the outside I was the picture of composure and coldness, inside Sydney was pushing through all the walls and trying to surface. I say "Sydney" because that's what I call my honest, straightforward, true self. I really didn't want to seem as arrogant as I did: Sydney was enjoying being in his company more than anything, even though I couldn't show it. I also wonder if my inability to show my (gulp) feelings for the men in my life has to do with my mother's treatment of the opposite sex. Let's take an example: say…Vaughn. I suppose that somewhere, deep inside, I'm afraid that if I allow myself to get too close to him, I'll desert and destroy Vaughn like Irina did to my father. And I love him too much to permit that to happen. Yes. If my parents were different, there is no doubt in my mind that I would be nowhere near as prudential as I am today. I've had no success in dating since I've realized my feelings for Michael; my heart just wasn't in it. They say that success is someone else's failure. Well, if that's true, then I've inherited all of Bill Gates's hoards that have built up over time.
Here's the juicy stuff: what if Vaughn had escaped with me that night he was trapped behind that damn door? Simple answer: nothing. (Not as juicy as you thought, huh?) Not a thing would have resulted in the successful breaking of that door. The mission would have ended like any other: well, maybe an extra hug or lingering touch, but nothing more than that. (It's never more than that, damn it!) But…wait a second; hold on. If we had escaped and gotten back to LA together as planned, there would have been no need for Vaughn's hospitalization. Since I wasn't ill, he wouldn't have been either. And if his immune system hadn't broken down then…I would not have met Alice! What if I hadn't met Alice? Oh wow. This just got more complex than I could have imagined.
If I hadn't become acquainted with this extravagantly feminine creature, I would be still living under the illusion that Michael C. Vaughn was on the market and, therefore, fair game. I could have revealed my emotions to him in the slow, perpetual, almost painstaking way I had wanted to. It probably would have been harsh mental (and physical) torture for him, but I could have been completely at ease and thorough in my decision-making process. If only…I find myself sticking those two words into my heart's vocabulary whenever I indulge in what-ifs. If only this had happened, then this more favourable outcome would have resulted. But I've tried to limit the amount of time I delve into those; I've spent entire sleepless nights sitting on my windowsill and staring unseeingly down onto the street below, just thinking. I'd think so long and hard that I wouldn't realize that dawn had come, my alarm had gone off, and my temples were pulsating as if a high school drum line was "jamming" on my brain. On those days, I was goaded into meekly requesting two tablets from Vaughn's stash (or as it is more commonly called by Weiss, his "jar of happiness"), and I'd have to shake off confused looks and worrisome questions. I suppose if I hadn't met Alice, it wouldn't have been for the better. If "Rita" hadn't "run into" Alice at the hospital and been subsequently told that the latter and her "colleague" were dating, I wouldn't have felt the need to confront my feelings for my handler. If this convergence had never happened, I wouldn't have had the prerogative to de-compartmentalize my emotions and finally sit down to contemplate them at face value, no conditions, variables, or holds barred. The night after I walked away from Vaughn's feeble explanation of their relationship, I pulled one of those all-nighters to carefully sort out how I felt, meticulously picking apart each thought like strands in a thread. In short, I suppose I'm glad that I met Alice. Besides encountering a genuinely nice woman, I had the chance to evaluate what kind of a relationship I would like to have with Mr. Vaughn. And anyways, nice girls finish last, so I'm not hurting much.
Speaking of hurting, I wonder if Francie has discovered that we've run out of Band-Aids yet again. I mean, it was only last week that we had three full boxes; after my latest mission, I had to resort to the last of her cache without actually asking. Guess this means that I have to go to the store and pick up four more boxes: three flesh-coloured for me and one Loony Toones for Francie. Put that on my to-do list along with getting back to reality…
Alright, last stop on the what-if train. This one I've been turning over and over in my mind, gnawing on the raw, ruthless facts like a dog on a bone. What if Vaughn and I had made it up to that room in Nice? Would it have gone as far as we both knew we wanted it to? Would caution finally have been thrown to the wind so we could experience one blissful night of uninhibited passion? My answer is probably not. Don't get me wrong: if the circumstances were different, I would have been all over him like stench on a male teen's gym sock. But they weren't, so therefore I wasn't. See, my big hang-up was that technically, he was still going out with Alice. Call me old-fashioned, but I believe it's wrong to sleep with someone who is involved with someone else, no matter where the ardor is lacking or excelling. Now if he had broken up with his girlfriend before our trip to Nice (which, frankly, I would have found a little suspicious)…totally, totally different. Also, I don't know that if we had started to get involved that we would have been able to stop. With both of our suppressed sexual urges and tensed, raging hormones, we probably wouldn't have left that room for days. That just opens up a whole new can of worms with which I really don't want to deal with right now. You know what I've decided? This whole Vaughn-and-me conundrum would be a hell of a lot easier if Alice weren't involved at all. But of course, that would just be the easy was to go about things.
"Friendship is love made bearable." If this is bearable, then give me love; it can't be much worse.
You know, they say that you can discover more about a person in an hour of play than in a year of conversation. But what if you never get to play?
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Author's Note: You have no idea how proud I am that I was able to write out this second chapter. I have been so freakishly tired these past few days that I haven't been able to stay up past 11 without major pains. Well, last night I had to stay up 'til about Midnight to get this all typed up. And yet I still get up at 7:30 in the morning to proofread and post. I must be crazy. REWARD MY CRAZINESS WITH REVIEWS! LoL. Hope you enjoyed! Any other ideas for POVs? Weiss? Jack? Irina? Who do you want? No one; stop right here? TELL ME!!!
: ) Becky, the Dream Writer 4 Life