Author : Amelie (user Iselia)
Email: amelia_aurora(AT)hotmail.com
Disclaimer: Anything Alias is not mine, never will be.
Distribution: Want it? Take it! Just let me know! (
Rating: PG13
[I]love is natural and real
but not for such as you and I, my love -I Know It's Over - The Smiths[/I]
No longer acutely involved in the SD-6 project, Sydney's second official day at CIA was to be spent skimming files and answering questions. She was excluded from the interview process, and was not able to speak to those in protective custody without another agent present. People who had only been on the sidelines for the past years were now busier than ever. Sydney, on the other hand, was left all but twiddling her thumbs and sticking gold stars on accurate reports- or at least her signature. Unlike Sydney, Jack remained actively involved in the aftermath, speaking with those in protective custody and meeting with other interviewers to ascertain innocence or guilt. It was Jack who would assist in preparing the evidence that would bring Sloane down. Sydney would just be giving evidence in court.
There was something in Jack Bristow's eyes that she hadn't seen for a long time, if ever. She'd never considered the weight that her father had carried all these years. He'd been a double agent much longer then she had, and his role was even more important. He was also a long way past twenty- nine.
They met in the office they now shared, Sydney with a cup of creamy latte and muffin, her father with his second strong, short black.
"I noticed you arrived with Agent Vaughn this morning,"
Sydney adjusted her suit self-consciously. She'd had the presence of mind to stop by her house on the way home to change. The rest of her, however, looked more relaxed then usual. Her hair was just overdue for a wash and her makeup was far lighter than usual. But even more telling was her scent. The only perfume she wore was a tiny dab of Vaughn's cologne, having decided it was better then nothing.
She didn't need to reply.
"I didn't think I'd need to remind you that your safety is still compromised, Sydney. It is possible that you remain a potential target. Other branches of the Alliance may become aware of your role and feel threatened."
She had known this. Blood rushed to her face and she blushed in embarrassment. In their desperation last night, they had ignored the thought.
"I know. But it's safer now, and it's unlikely that they would focus specifically on me. Other CIA agents are likely to become the targets," she glanced out the window. "And I can't just disappear. Not now,"
Jack exhaled briskly. "I'm not suggesting you disappear, Sydney. I'm suggesting that you ensure you take a break and to remain alert. Take a holiday and give things time to settle. There's no point in risking your life now, not after-"
"And there's no point delaying it, either," they glared at one another.
"At least consider it," he said finally. "Devlin will undoubtedly make you an offer of employment. You need to know how you'll respond,"
Sydney brushed back her hair and tugged at each sleeve. "I will." She promised.
Late that afternoon, just before three fifty nine became four o'clock, Sydney was called to Ben Devlin's office. He smiled as she walked in and invited her to sit. She wished she hadn't; clearly the director got much better chairs than the 'lowly' special agent Sydney Bristow. Her back had been aching all day.
"I've said it before, but I'm going to repeat myself. Congratulations, Sydney, and thankyou. You've done extremely well. The agency is very proud of you,"
She nodded and smiled in way of thanks. She'd wanted to be out of the office by four so she could head home, spend an hour with Francie and then sort out something with Vaughn. Michael, now. By the look on Devlin's face, this wasn't going to be a brief chat.
"You're a very valuable member of the CIA, Sydney, and we don't intend on letting your skills go to waste. However, Jack informed me that you were looking forward to getting off the front line, so to speak. In light of that, I've spoken with the other directors, and we've organised an offer to make you. Are you interested in remaining with the CIA, Sydney?"
She hadn't expected the question to come so soon. In her mind, she hadn't expected Devlin to be so active about retaining her, after all, it wasn't as though she was likely to suddenly skip out and get another job like hers; unless she was intending to commit serious acts of treason, which was highly unlikely. But she had spent any free moments considering the future, and not just the warm and fuzzy daydream future.
"I am,"
This pleased him immensely, and it showed. He sat back, his hands folded on the desk. Obviously, others had considered this a much more difficult task. "That's very good news, Sydney. What I am proposing to you, is that you take leave until the 21st, when we will have a formal offer to present to you. As it stands at the moment, we're expecting to be able to offer you a desk position assisting in the planning of operations. If you are no longer willing to work in the field, at least here your skills will not be wasted. Obviously, you will be required to work in other areas should the need be shown,"
"That sounds good, Agent Devlin," she said softly. It did. "I'll definitely need that time to make up my mind. There are a lot of things I need to consider,"
"Including your relationship with Agent Michael Vaughn," he nodded. "We are not blind here, Sydney. These things happen, and are discouraged. However, we feel that if necessary, you and Agent Vaughn will be able to conduct yourselves professionally. It's unlikely that you will be working in the same areas," He leant forward, his expression suddenly deathly serious. "You are too talented for us to let you go just because you are in a relationship with an Agent who used to be your handler. Don't let that idea sway your decision, Ms Bristow,"
--
"So, Romeo. Hockey; not exactly your typical second date with a woman like Syd," he frowned. "And I still haven't heard what a first date with Syd was like,"
Vaughn lead them to their seats, counting across the row and finally, after pushing past countless pairs of legs, sat down. He had half expected Syd to be here by now; the queues for these games were always hideous, and it paid to arrive early if you wanted to catch the pre-game stuff. Eric and Mike, being hardcore sports fans, always wanted to catch the pre-game wind-up. It was crucial in setting the mood for the evening. They both knew Will wasn't a hockey fan, so even he wouldn't be able to help them.
"And I'm still not going to," he said, taking the half-spilt beer from Eric and dropping the soaked cardboard tray to his feet. "Do you think it was such a good idea for us to go separately?"
"Five people in one car? I know there's room, but, really; there's no room," he patted his mate's shoulder. "Good idea. Great one. Now about you and Bristow."
In a twist of chance that was proving Fate may just be on their side, the Kings were playing in LA that Friday night. This prevented Vaughn and Sydney with a dilemma: Vaughn always, without fail, went to the hockey with Eric. It was their thing; they went, got the best seats they could pay for and shelled out too much money on beer that ended up spilling as they walked to their seats anyway, all while screaming themselves hoarse. Sydney, on the other hand, had sworn she would celebrate her 'resignation' with Francie and Will.
An offhand comment from Eric suggesting that Vaughn introduce Sydney to the hockey had set the night in motion. He hadn't really expected the enthusiastic response from Syd and Vaughn. He'd expected Vaughn to be eager - any girlfriend was forced to watch the games on TV with them, if not attend games - but Sydney's almost desperate approval had surprised him. And so, here they were, waiting for Sydney and her two friends to show up to watch a hockey game. For some reason, Vaughn didn't mind that their date wasn't going to be private. In fact, he seemed thrilled.
"What about me and Sydney?" Vaughn grumbled irritably as someone spilled Coke behind him, sending it gushing beneath his feet; he hated sticky flooring.
Weiss knocked back the rest of his beer and wiped his lip. "Come on, Mike. I put up with a lot for you guys, and I spent enough time distracting you whenever she went away, so that makes me privy to any information. She's not here yet, so talk, buddy, talk."
Vaughn grinned as he watched Will battling his way past the rows of feet. "Yeah, she is,"
"Damn it," Weiss muttered as he waved to Will and Syd. There was someone following them, a woman he didn't know.
"Hey," Sydney said brightly, looking only at Vaughn. She took the vacant seat beside him, throwing Eric a quick smile. "Sorry we're late. Francie got caught up at the restaurant," She glanced over at Francie's expectant face. "Oh. Francie Calfo, this is Eric Weiss.a friend of Vau- Michael's,"
Eric stretched in front of the couple and shook her hand. "Hope you like hockey, Francie," he nodded at Will. "Want a beer, man?"
Will looked at the empty and half full plastic beer cups. "Only if you're getting one,"
"Oh, I am," Weiss assured him. "I feel like I haven't had a drink in years,"
Vaughn snorted. "Or, you know, for at least a day or so," he drained the last of his, grinned at Sydney's look of faint surprise. "Get one for me, too," he glanced over at her. "Do you want anything?"
"Just a Coke, thanks,"
Francie snapped her fingers at Will, who nodded. "Come on, Syd, live a little. It's sport, remember? Will's first rule of sport is you drink beer if you're over eighteen, and get someone else to buy it for you if you're not,"
The guys laughed and Will stood to get the drinks. "I might need a hand to carry them, if you want them to drink and not to lick off the grandstand,"
Francie leapt up. "I'll come too,"
Will and Eric attempted to reassure her that they didn't need help. She looked at Sydney and Vaughn pointedly. "Oh."
The five, the most unlikely of companions at one time, had enjoyed the game. The Kings were playing well and everything was moving smoothly. But nothing stays smooth forever.
"I never thought we'd get here," Sydney confessed. Vaughn nodded in agreement. "I thought I'd just get to dream, and just have to make do with our park meetings or something," she said as they jostled their way to the exits. Will was lagging behind, talking on his phone while Weiss and Francie, who had struck a spark together, moved ahead. One particularly fierce shove sent Sydney pitching forward. Vaughn automatically reached out and grabbed her arm, saving her from embarrassment. He wasn't the only one, however. On her other side, a man dressed plainly, a cap hiding his face, also took hold.
"They're pleased SD-6 is gone. They won't be if you try anything else. Stay quiet, Sydney Bristow, or you'll be a target," the man growled in her ear. She attempted to grab him as his slid through the crowd, shoving people aside in haste.
Vaughn put an arm around her. "What was that about?" he asked, having missed the exchange. Her pale face was enough to raise his suspicions. "Is everything okay?"
"No. I think he works for the Alliance. He said something about them being happy SD-6 is down, and,"
"And?"
"That if I try and do any more, I could be a target,"
He swore. Things were just starting to look hopeful. The CIA would go nuts with this. A restful break was not looking likely now. "We should call Jack,"
"Eventually," she said slowly. "I don't think it was a threat, just a warning.the Alliance was always pretty competitive, and they're probably glad I knocked Sloane out of the way. But they'll all be terrified that the rest will crumble now,"
"Even so-"
"Not now, Michael," she said, forcing herself to relax and smile, enjoy herself. "If they wanted me dead, I'd be dead by now," she squeezed his hand. "It was just a warning,"
"Syd-"
"Not now, please not now," she whispered as they caught up to Francie and Weiss.
Eric grabbed Vaughn's hand and shook it. "I live closer to Francie and Will, so they're gonna drop me home. I assume you and Syd'll be kicking on awhile longer," He nodded. Weiss frowned. Something was off. He leant in slightly, spoke softly. "Everything okay?"
"Someone just bumped into Syd, gave her a warning about not trying anything else with the Alliance. She doesn't want to do anything now,"
Weiss sighed. "She's right, man. There's nothing we can do right now. Wait 'til morning, talk to Jack, get the security tapes and try and ID the guy. Try and relax, enjoy yourselves,"
Vaughn attempted to smile. The last thing on his mind now was relaxing. He took Sydney's hand, squeezing it tightly - almost too tightly, she thought as she took his hand in hers and kissed it. They walked through the emptying carpark to his car. His not-so-subtle check of the car did nothing to sooth her nerves. She watched in silence as he pretended to grope on the ground for dropped keys, checking beneath the car as he did so.
"Vaughn-"
He slammed the door and held her face gently. "Please don't say 'relax', Sydney, because you know I can't," she nodded silently. "Okay. We're going back to my place, and then first thing tomorrow you're going to call your father and I'm going to pull those surveillance tapes," he rubbed his thumb across her cheekbone. "This is just a bump in the road,"
"I know," she said, not even believing herself.
They looked at each other, both believing someone had turned out the light in the world. Things couldn't get worse; they wouldn't let it.
[I]love is natural and real
but not for such as you and I, my love -I Know It's Over - The Smiths[/I]
No longer acutely involved in the SD-6 project, Sydney's second official day at CIA was to be spent skimming files and answering questions. She was excluded from the interview process, and was not able to speak to those in protective custody without another agent present. People who had only been on the sidelines for the past years were now busier than ever. Sydney, on the other hand, was left all but twiddling her thumbs and sticking gold stars on accurate reports- or at least her signature. Unlike Sydney, Jack remained actively involved in the aftermath, speaking with those in protective custody and meeting with other interviewers to ascertain innocence or guilt. It was Jack who would assist in preparing the evidence that would bring Sloane down. Sydney would just be giving evidence in court.
There was something in Jack Bristow's eyes that she hadn't seen for a long time, if ever. She'd never considered the weight that her father had carried all these years. He'd been a double agent much longer then she had, and his role was even more important. He was also a long way past twenty- nine.
They met in the office they now shared, Sydney with a cup of creamy latte and muffin, her father with his second strong, short black.
"I noticed you arrived with Agent Vaughn this morning,"
Sydney adjusted her suit self-consciously. She'd had the presence of mind to stop by her house on the way home to change. The rest of her, however, looked more relaxed then usual. Her hair was just overdue for a wash and her makeup was far lighter than usual. But even more telling was her scent. The only perfume she wore was a tiny dab of Vaughn's cologne, having decided it was better then nothing.
She didn't need to reply.
"I didn't think I'd need to remind you that your safety is still compromised, Sydney. It is possible that you remain a potential target. Other branches of the Alliance may become aware of your role and feel threatened."
She had known this. Blood rushed to her face and she blushed in embarrassment. In their desperation last night, they had ignored the thought.
"I know. But it's safer now, and it's unlikely that they would focus specifically on me. Other CIA agents are likely to become the targets," she glanced out the window. "And I can't just disappear. Not now,"
Jack exhaled briskly. "I'm not suggesting you disappear, Sydney. I'm suggesting that you ensure you take a break and to remain alert. Take a holiday and give things time to settle. There's no point in risking your life now, not after-"
"And there's no point delaying it, either," they glared at one another.
"At least consider it," he said finally. "Devlin will undoubtedly make you an offer of employment. You need to know how you'll respond,"
Sydney brushed back her hair and tugged at each sleeve. "I will." She promised.
Late that afternoon, just before three fifty nine became four o'clock, Sydney was called to Ben Devlin's office. He smiled as she walked in and invited her to sit. She wished she hadn't; clearly the director got much better chairs than the 'lowly' special agent Sydney Bristow. Her back had been aching all day.
"I've said it before, but I'm going to repeat myself. Congratulations, Sydney, and thankyou. You've done extremely well. The agency is very proud of you,"
She nodded and smiled in way of thanks. She'd wanted to be out of the office by four so she could head home, spend an hour with Francie and then sort out something with Vaughn. Michael, now. By the look on Devlin's face, this wasn't going to be a brief chat.
"You're a very valuable member of the CIA, Sydney, and we don't intend on letting your skills go to waste. However, Jack informed me that you were looking forward to getting off the front line, so to speak. In light of that, I've spoken with the other directors, and we've organised an offer to make you. Are you interested in remaining with the CIA, Sydney?"
She hadn't expected the question to come so soon. In her mind, she hadn't expected Devlin to be so active about retaining her, after all, it wasn't as though she was likely to suddenly skip out and get another job like hers; unless she was intending to commit serious acts of treason, which was highly unlikely. But she had spent any free moments considering the future, and not just the warm and fuzzy daydream future.
"I am,"
This pleased him immensely, and it showed. He sat back, his hands folded on the desk. Obviously, others had considered this a much more difficult task. "That's very good news, Sydney. What I am proposing to you, is that you take leave until the 21st, when we will have a formal offer to present to you. As it stands at the moment, we're expecting to be able to offer you a desk position assisting in the planning of operations. If you are no longer willing to work in the field, at least here your skills will not be wasted. Obviously, you will be required to work in other areas should the need be shown,"
"That sounds good, Agent Devlin," she said softly. It did. "I'll definitely need that time to make up my mind. There are a lot of things I need to consider,"
"Including your relationship with Agent Michael Vaughn," he nodded. "We are not blind here, Sydney. These things happen, and are discouraged. However, we feel that if necessary, you and Agent Vaughn will be able to conduct yourselves professionally. It's unlikely that you will be working in the same areas," He leant forward, his expression suddenly deathly serious. "You are too talented for us to let you go just because you are in a relationship with an Agent who used to be your handler. Don't let that idea sway your decision, Ms Bristow,"
--
"So, Romeo. Hockey; not exactly your typical second date with a woman like Syd," he frowned. "And I still haven't heard what a first date with Syd was like,"
Vaughn lead them to their seats, counting across the row and finally, after pushing past countless pairs of legs, sat down. He had half expected Syd to be here by now; the queues for these games were always hideous, and it paid to arrive early if you wanted to catch the pre-game stuff. Eric and Mike, being hardcore sports fans, always wanted to catch the pre-game wind-up. It was crucial in setting the mood for the evening. They both knew Will wasn't a hockey fan, so even he wouldn't be able to help them.
"And I'm still not going to," he said, taking the half-spilt beer from Eric and dropping the soaked cardboard tray to his feet. "Do you think it was such a good idea for us to go separately?"
"Five people in one car? I know there's room, but, really; there's no room," he patted his mate's shoulder. "Good idea. Great one. Now about you and Bristow."
In a twist of chance that was proving Fate may just be on their side, the Kings were playing in LA that Friday night. This prevented Vaughn and Sydney with a dilemma: Vaughn always, without fail, went to the hockey with Eric. It was their thing; they went, got the best seats they could pay for and shelled out too much money on beer that ended up spilling as they walked to their seats anyway, all while screaming themselves hoarse. Sydney, on the other hand, had sworn she would celebrate her 'resignation' with Francie and Will.
An offhand comment from Eric suggesting that Vaughn introduce Sydney to the hockey had set the night in motion. He hadn't really expected the enthusiastic response from Syd and Vaughn. He'd expected Vaughn to be eager - any girlfriend was forced to watch the games on TV with them, if not attend games - but Sydney's almost desperate approval had surprised him. And so, here they were, waiting for Sydney and her two friends to show up to watch a hockey game. For some reason, Vaughn didn't mind that their date wasn't going to be private. In fact, he seemed thrilled.
"What about me and Sydney?" Vaughn grumbled irritably as someone spilled Coke behind him, sending it gushing beneath his feet; he hated sticky flooring.
Weiss knocked back the rest of his beer and wiped his lip. "Come on, Mike. I put up with a lot for you guys, and I spent enough time distracting you whenever she went away, so that makes me privy to any information. She's not here yet, so talk, buddy, talk."
Vaughn grinned as he watched Will battling his way past the rows of feet. "Yeah, she is,"
"Damn it," Weiss muttered as he waved to Will and Syd. There was someone following them, a woman he didn't know.
"Hey," Sydney said brightly, looking only at Vaughn. She took the vacant seat beside him, throwing Eric a quick smile. "Sorry we're late. Francie got caught up at the restaurant," She glanced over at Francie's expectant face. "Oh. Francie Calfo, this is Eric Weiss.a friend of Vau- Michael's,"
Eric stretched in front of the couple and shook her hand. "Hope you like hockey, Francie," he nodded at Will. "Want a beer, man?"
Will looked at the empty and half full plastic beer cups. "Only if you're getting one,"
"Oh, I am," Weiss assured him. "I feel like I haven't had a drink in years,"
Vaughn snorted. "Or, you know, for at least a day or so," he drained the last of his, grinned at Sydney's look of faint surprise. "Get one for me, too," he glanced over at her. "Do you want anything?"
"Just a Coke, thanks,"
Francie snapped her fingers at Will, who nodded. "Come on, Syd, live a little. It's sport, remember? Will's first rule of sport is you drink beer if you're over eighteen, and get someone else to buy it for you if you're not,"
The guys laughed and Will stood to get the drinks. "I might need a hand to carry them, if you want them to drink and not to lick off the grandstand,"
Francie leapt up. "I'll come too,"
Will and Eric attempted to reassure her that they didn't need help. She looked at Sydney and Vaughn pointedly. "Oh."
The five, the most unlikely of companions at one time, had enjoyed the game. The Kings were playing well and everything was moving smoothly. But nothing stays smooth forever.
"I never thought we'd get here," Sydney confessed. Vaughn nodded in agreement. "I thought I'd just get to dream, and just have to make do with our park meetings or something," she said as they jostled their way to the exits. Will was lagging behind, talking on his phone while Weiss and Francie, who had struck a spark together, moved ahead. One particularly fierce shove sent Sydney pitching forward. Vaughn automatically reached out and grabbed her arm, saving her from embarrassment. He wasn't the only one, however. On her other side, a man dressed plainly, a cap hiding his face, also took hold.
"They're pleased SD-6 is gone. They won't be if you try anything else. Stay quiet, Sydney Bristow, or you'll be a target," the man growled in her ear. She attempted to grab him as his slid through the crowd, shoving people aside in haste.
Vaughn put an arm around her. "What was that about?" he asked, having missed the exchange. Her pale face was enough to raise his suspicions. "Is everything okay?"
"No. I think he works for the Alliance. He said something about them being happy SD-6 is down, and,"
"And?"
"That if I try and do any more, I could be a target,"
He swore. Things were just starting to look hopeful. The CIA would go nuts with this. A restful break was not looking likely now. "We should call Jack,"
"Eventually," she said slowly. "I don't think it was a threat, just a warning.the Alliance was always pretty competitive, and they're probably glad I knocked Sloane out of the way. But they'll all be terrified that the rest will crumble now,"
"Even so-"
"Not now, Michael," she said, forcing herself to relax and smile, enjoy herself. "If they wanted me dead, I'd be dead by now," she squeezed his hand. "It was just a warning,"
"Syd-"
"Not now, please not now," she whispered as they caught up to Francie and Weiss.
Eric grabbed Vaughn's hand and shook it. "I live closer to Francie and Will, so they're gonna drop me home. I assume you and Syd'll be kicking on awhile longer," He nodded. Weiss frowned. Something was off. He leant in slightly, spoke softly. "Everything okay?"
"Someone just bumped into Syd, gave her a warning about not trying anything else with the Alliance. She doesn't want to do anything now,"
Weiss sighed. "She's right, man. There's nothing we can do right now. Wait 'til morning, talk to Jack, get the security tapes and try and ID the guy. Try and relax, enjoy yourselves,"
Vaughn attempted to smile. The last thing on his mind now was relaxing. He took Sydney's hand, squeezing it tightly - almost too tightly, she thought as she took his hand in hers and kissed it. They walked through the emptying carpark to his car. His not-so-subtle check of the car did nothing to sooth her nerves. She watched in silence as he pretended to grope on the ground for dropped keys, checking beneath the car as he did so.
"Vaughn-"
He slammed the door and held her face gently. "Please don't say 'relax', Sydney, because you know I can't," she nodded silently. "Okay. We're going back to my place, and then first thing tomorrow you're going to call your father and I'm going to pull those surveillance tapes," he rubbed his thumb across her cheekbone. "This is just a bump in the road,"
"I know," she said, not even believing herself.
They looked at each other, both believing someone had turned out the light in the world. Things couldn't get worse; they wouldn't let it.