Mistral-PG13, Alias-Vaughn
Peregrine (E. Klisiewicz)

Rated PG13 for language and sexual innuendo.

mistral: a cold, dry, northerly wind common in southern France and neighboring regions.

Summary: Vaughn's thoughts on Alice, office Christmas parties, and the meaning of life and death.

Actually, this all started more than two weeks ago when Martha accosted me. I usually manage to avoid her, because she's on Six and I get off at Five. But on one particularly unlucky morning, she catches me on the elevator.

"So how is Alice?" she asks as the doors close.

My mouth forms the right words but my brain disengages. You see, Martha and Alice have an unfortunate connection. Alice's mother is Martha's best friend, and Martha is the one who introduced us. At the time, I was young and even more stupid than I am now, so I didn't see the big picture. Because at every turn, there was Martha. Asking me how things were going so she could report back to her friend. Agonizing and intrusive to someone like me, who hates people prying into my affairs.

If you think that's bad, believe me when I tell you it gets worse. If you guessed that Syd is mixed up in this, you'd be right. But how can that be? She's a double, rarely seen in the office. And our meetings are clandestine enough to shut most everyone out. Except Martha, who handles all her paperwork. She knows every mission by heart, and knows when I fly out with her. OK, maybe she doesn't know about Taipei, but she knows the rest.

So anyway, she asks about Alice, and I talk about Alice's father and what he meant to her. And it should be nice and safe, right? But Martha manages to skate past that and dives right into romantic weekends in New York and getting away from certain people. Like Syd. Oh, she doesn't have to say it, but I know she's thinking it.

The sweat breaks out on my brow, because Alice and I only talked about this yesterday. And it's not like we decided anything, because quite frankly, I want no part of it. Romantic getaways are one thing, but New York in December is an anathema.

It reminds me of every bad thing in my life.

It's the city where my father died. Shot execution style, dumped in an alley like a bag of trash. Discovered amidst piles of wrapping paper and ribbon. Dying on the coldest day of the year. Left without dignity.

And it's the place where I met Sharon, the woman who turned me around and urged me to go back to college. For her, I gave it all up. Smoking, drinking, and gambling. All flushed down the toilet with my former life.

The last time I saw her was on the skating rink at Rockefeller Center. Twisting and turning like Dorothy Hamill, tongue out to catch the spray of fat snowflakes that spit from the sky. And then she was gone. Ripped from my life by a psycho that was never caught.

New York is a death trap. And it's the last place I want to be.

So can you blame me for changing the subject? I ask about the first thing that comes to my mind. The office Christmas party. Man, was that a mistake.

"Would you like to volunteer?" Martha sounds way too sweet and I know I'm caught.

"Volunteer?" I squeak.

"You can be my elf and hand out presents." Her smile widens at the thought of me wearing an elf hat.

There are pointy elf hats and reindeer hats with antlers. "I don't…you know, I think I'll be away that day."

She flashes her horse's teeth at me. "Actually, your itinerary is wide open through January."

When the doors finally spill me out onto Five, I am followed by her promise that she will add my name to the list.

Great. So I get to my office, and Weiss has his butt parked in my chair. He laughs at the look on my face. "Martha again?"

"Sort of." I sink into the folding chair and toss my briefcase on the couch.

Eric steeples his fingers and leans forward. "Spill."

How do I talk about what's really on my mind? It's always about Syd these days and the feelings that never escape me. And it's about guilt. Leading Alice on, making her think we have a chance. If I was half as honorable as she makes me out to be, I'd tell her the truth. But there's her father…so what do I do about that? "It's about Wally's."

Wally's was the bar where we ran into Syd and Will. And the look on her face. Crushed. Like maybe she could handle the thought of it, but the reality of seeing us together was more than too much. It devastated her. Oh, she talked a good game, but I caught the wounded look she threw over her shoulder.

"Andrews pulled the tape, but why did you…" His voice trails off when he sees the coin in my fingers. "You ran into Syd, didn't you?"

"Yeah," I admit raggedly, dragging my fingers through my already tousled hair as I perch on the edge of my desk.

Weiss sighs as he gets to his feet. "You know what you have to do."

Eric and I have gone to the mat on this one, and there's never a winner. "I can't. Not now."

He shakes his head at my attitude, but drops the subject. "Oh, I almost forgot. Secret Santa. I'm in charge this year."

The hat comes out and I thrust my fingers into a mountain of names. When I see my choice, I almost manage to laugh. "Great. And I'm one of the elves."

Now he smiles, but there's no joy in it. "Who'd you get?"

When I hold it up for inspection, his grin falls away as he backs out the door. "You're in deep shit, my friend. Once Martha finds out…you're so screwed."

It's not like this is anything new. Hell, I think it all ended on October 1st when she walked through that door. Crashing into my life and sending my heart skidding down the same dangerous path that takes me to Fifth and Broadway.

Where she waits for her next assignment.

Here with me.