"I have a bad feeling about this mission, Syd."
It was a week after the disappearance of Sark, time for yet another "business trip." Vaughn was watching himself to make sure he stood at least five feet away from Sydney Bristow at all times. He had considered referring to her as "Agent Bristow" again, but realized that that would have been way too weird at this point. Still, he was trying hard to maintain distance. Lately it had seemed that if he got too close to Sydney, she would swallow him whole, and he would never be able to get out again.
Still, inside he worried about her as much as ever, and he couldn't manage to keep his worries about her latest mission inside his head. An UNSUPERVISED mission with her mother, an ENEMY OF THE STATE, to be conducted while a SOCIOPATHIC ASSASSIN who seemed to have great interest in Sydney was STILL on the loose. Why don't we just save the trouble and shoot Sydney in the head ourselves? he thought.
Wait a sec . . . Sydney's saying something to me. He loved the way her lips formed her "O"'s . . . . . . . . If I could just-no, we'd agreed it was too dangerous. But . . . . . . No-Stop Vaughn, he told himself-Think Professional, you are her handler. She's counting on you to be PROFESSIONAL. Now, what was she talking about?
"I'm sorry-what did you say?"
Sydney gave him an odd look. "I asked you what you thought the problem was." she said, shortly. Tension was building up between both of them. There was so much balled up emotion between them, but it never came out the way they wanted it to.
Vaughn noticed she seemed to be using the same tactic the he was using-- keeping distance, not going too deep into conversation. She had her arms crossed over her chest in an effort to build up defenses. Vaughn shook his head. We're both hopeless, he thought.
"Well, for one thing, Sark is still on the loose, and it's obvious he has some plans for you considering his recent-er. . . 'interest' in you. And not to mention, your mother's not exactly on my list of people to trust." Vaughn was starting to really get going. He had had this list of 'reasons to cancel the mission' compiled in his head for quite some time.
"Vaughn-I can take care of myself." she said irritated. He knew that she hated being thought of as a helpless damsel, but that didn't stop him from worrying.
"Syd," he started, patronizing. She never listened to any voices of reason. It was only luck that she had survived this long considering how reckless she was. "We can't afford to bring in an extraction team into the facility-the security's too tight. It'll just be you and Irina. If you get into to trouble, there's not going to be anybody to back you up. I'm just afraid that-" Vaughn stopped himself. He was starting to go over that line again.
"Afraid that what?" Sydney's voice had grown deadly soft. Vaughn didn't look at her.
"I'm just afraid that one of these days I'll watch you die on that stupid black and white surveillance monitor." Vaughn was beginning to feel claustrophobic in this tiny space. He had to get out. He couldn't breathe with Sydney in the room-it hurt too much to be around her and not to have her.
Brusquely walking over to her, he shoved the file he had been holding in her face.
"That covers all the details of the op," he said as he walked out the door, leaving her sitting alone in the room. As an afterthought, he mumbled, "I'll see you when I get back."
__________________________________
When Sydney boarded the private jet to Moscow with her mother, bad feelings unresolved still sat balled up in the pit of her stomach. She had snapped at her mother a few times since boarding, but thankfully, she hadn't commented on Syd's bad mood. Instead, she just smiled in that all- knowing way of hers, and went back to studying her files. Not much else was said.
Five hours into their journey, Sydney alerted her mother that it was almost time.
"We're almost over the facility. You ready?"
"Of course." Irina said, almost regally, "Are you?"
"Yes." Syd said, trying her best to sound convincing. She was hoping against hope that her mood wouldn't affect her performance. In this business, if you aren't completely focused, you're dead.
Mounting on their parachutes and heading towards the rear of the plane, Syd welcomed the blast of cold air that hit her when the back of the plane opened. Nodding once to her mother she jumped out.
It had not taken Syd long in this job to get addicted to the adrenaline rush she felt during moments such as this. Blood coursing through her veins, wind whipping around her body-the ground coming at her a mile a minute. If Syd's muscles hadn't solely been concentrating on the effort of keeping her body rigid, she would have smiled. It was during moments like these she felt truly free.
Irina landed on the roof of the facility just a few seconds after Syd had parachuted gracefully down. She had already stripped off her gear to reveal a stunning red dress that was all curves and cleavage. This always seemed to be the dress code at government parties, Syd thought. You would think that they would be more professional, but no. She still had to endure the high heels and the skintight clothing. She sighed as she walked over to her mother, who was wearing something equally elegant in black.
"I know." Irina said, comfortingly. They had lately been having more and more silent conversations, where words were not needed, there was just instant understanding. "Let's just crash this party and get it over with."
"Sounds like a plan." Syd said, grinning a little. It was almost like old times.
Upon entering the building, Sydney could feel every eye on her and her mother. They obviously didn't mind that Syd had no invitation. All they seemed concerned about was her ass, which they stared intently at as she walked across the ballroom. She was searching for one corrupt politician in particular-- Ah, there he is . . . she thought. The one with the code key. Josef Khirschinov. Irina winked at her, making sure she'd spotted him.
"Hello." she said to him, in a voice much deeper and breathier than her own. He smiled at her, undressing her with his eyes.
"I don't believe I have met you at any of these other functions before. Might I have the pleasure of knowing your name, Madam?"
"Cassandra Smith. And who might you be Sir?" Sydney wanted to puke. This man was way to greasy for words. Why didn't her mom hurry up and pickpocket him already? Looking over his shoulder as he talked on about his own importance, Syd saw her mother was waltzing with someone. Way to go Mom- she thought. Way to keep your focus. Syd would just have to take matters into her own hands. The key card was in his breast pocket . . . .
"Would you care to dance?" she asked, trying to move things along.
"It would be my pleasure." he said, eyeing her again.
Dancing with her hand on his shoulder, all she had to do was pretend to trip once and have him catch her, and before he noticed a thing, the key was in her hand. A few more minutes, and the waltz was over.
"Thank you, Ms. Smith." he said with an oily smile.
"No, Thank you, Mr. Khirschinov." Before he could advance any further, Syd turned and walked away with the code key, grabbing her mother by the arm along the way.
At the top floor, they casually sauntered in, and Irina began the task of finding her way through the labyrinth of halls and rooms in the facility.
"Thanks for all the help back there." Syd commented sarcastically as the made yet another turn down another white hallway.
"I recognized one of Khirschinov's bodyguards from a previous encounter. I couldn't have gotten within twenty feet of that conversation before being recognized. Besides, I knew you could pull it off on your own." Syd sighed. She always managed to have a good excuse. They stopped in front of one of the many identical doors that lined the hallways. The hard part was over.
From there on it was cake. Irina accessed the codes through some leftover voice identification she still had with the KGB, and they were out of the facility within the hour. Sydney loved it when things went according to plan. It was so much simpler, and she got home faster. It seemed that was hardly the case anymore though.
But surprisingly, as planned, they checked into their hotel for the night without any hitches. It had been so long since an operation had run smoothly, Sydney wasn't sure she trusted it. Her suspicions were pretty much dissipated, however, when she turned off the lamp, smiling at her mother in the next bed over.
"Goodnight, Mom."
"Goodnight, Sydney."
_____________________________
At 3 AM Sydney woke up, feeling the icy blue eyes upon her before she even opened her eyes. She looked over-her mother was still asleep, thank God.
"What are you doing here?" she whispered.
"I've come to collect on a favor you owe me."
It was a week after the disappearance of Sark, time for yet another "business trip." Vaughn was watching himself to make sure he stood at least five feet away from Sydney Bristow at all times. He had considered referring to her as "Agent Bristow" again, but realized that that would have been way too weird at this point. Still, he was trying hard to maintain distance. Lately it had seemed that if he got too close to Sydney, she would swallow him whole, and he would never be able to get out again.
Still, inside he worried about her as much as ever, and he couldn't manage to keep his worries about her latest mission inside his head. An UNSUPERVISED mission with her mother, an ENEMY OF THE STATE, to be conducted while a SOCIOPATHIC ASSASSIN who seemed to have great interest in Sydney was STILL on the loose. Why don't we just save the trouble and shoot Sydney in the head ourselves? he thought.
Wait a sec . . . Sydney's saying something to me. He loved the way her lips formed her "O"'s . . . . . . . . If I could just-no, we'd agreed it was too dangerous. But . . . . . . No-Stop Vaughn, he told himself-Think Professional, you are her handler. She's counting on you to be PROFESSIONAL. Now, what was she talking about?
"I'm sorry-what did you say?"
Sydney gave him an odd look. "I asked you what you thought the problem was." she said, shortly. Tension was building up between both of them. There was so much balled up emotion between them, but it never came out the way they wanted it to.
Vaughn noticed she seemed to be using the same tactic the he was using-- keeping distance, not going too deep into conversation. She had her arms crossed over her chest in an effort to build up defenses. Vaughn shook his head. We're both hopeless, he thought.
"Well, for one thing, Sark is still on the loose, and it's obvious he has some plans for you considering his recent-er. . . 'interest' in you. And not to mention, your mother's not exactly on my list of people to trust." Vaughn was starting to really get going. He had had this list of 'reasons to cancel the mission' compiled in his head for quite some time.
"Vaughn-I can take care of myself." she said irritated. He knew that she hated being thought of as a helpless damsel, but that didn't stop him from worrying.
"Syd," he started, patronizing. She never listened to any voices of reason. It was only luck that she had survived this long considering how reckless she was. "We can't afford to bring in an extraction team into the facility-the security's too tight. It'll just be you and Irina. If you get into to trouble, there's not going to be anybody to back you up. I'm just afraid that-" Vaughn stopped himself. He was starting to go over that line again.
"Afraid that what?" Sydney's voice had grown deadly soft. Vaughn didn't look at her.
"I'm just afraid that one of these days I'll watch you die on that stupid black and white surveillance monitor." Vaughn was beginning to feel claustrophobic in this tiny space. He had to get out. He couldn't breathe with Sydney in the room-it hurt too much to be around her and not to have her.
Brusquely walking over to her, he shoved the file he had been holding in her face.
"That covers all the details of the op," he said as he walked out the door, leaving her sitting alone in the room. As an afterthought, he mumbled, "I'll see you when I get back."
__________________________________
When Sydney boarded the private jet to Moscow with her mother, bad feelings unresolved still sat balled up in the pit of her stomach. She had snapped at her mother a few times since boarding, but thankfully, she hadn't commented on Syd's bad mood. Instead, she just smiled in that all- knowing way of hers, and went back to studying her files. Not much else was said.
Five hours into their journey, Sydney alerted her mother that it was almost time.
"We're almost over the facility. You ready?"
"Of course." Irina said, almost regally, "Are you?"
"Yes." Syd said, trying her best to sound convincing. She was hoping against hope that her mood wouldn't affect her performance. In this business, if you aren't completely focused, you're dead.
Mounting on their parachutes and heading towards the rear of the plane, Syd welcomed the blast of cold air that hit her when the back of the plane opened. Nodding once to her mother she jumped out.
It had not taken Syd long in this job to get addicted to the adrenaline rush she felt during moments such as this. Blood coursing through her veins, wind whipping around her body-the ground coming at her a mile a minute. If Syd's muscles hadn't solely been concentrating on the effort of keeping her body rigid, she would have smiled. It was during moments like these she felt truly free.
Irina landed on the roof of the facility just a few seconds after Syd had parachuted gracefully down. She had already stripped off her gear to reveal a stunning red dress that was all curves and cleavage. This always seemed to be the dress code at government parties, Syd thought. You would think that they would be more professional, but no. She still had to endure the high heels and the skintight clothing. She sighed as she walked over to her mother, who was wearing something equally elegant in black.
"I know." Irina said, comfortingly. They had lately been having more and more silent conversations, where words were not needed, there was just instant understanding. "Let's just crash this party and get it over with."
"Sounds like a plan." Syd said, grinning a little. It was almost like old times.
Upon entering the building, Sydney could feel every eye on her and her mother. They obviously didn't mind that Syd had no invitation. All they seemed concerned about was her ass, which they stared intently at as she walked across the ballroom. She was searching for one corrupt politician in particular-- Ah, there he is . . . she thought. The one with the code key. Josef Khirschinov. Irina winked at her, making sure she'd spotted him.
"Hello." she said to him, in a voice much deeper and breathier than her own. He smiled at her, undressing her with his eyes.
"I don't believe I have met you at any of these other functions before. Might I have the pleasure of knowing your name, Madam?"
"Cassandra Smith. And who might you be Sir?" Sydney wanted to puke. This man was way to greasy for words. Why didn't her mom hurry up and pickpocket him already? Looking over his shoulder as he talked on about his own importance, Syd saw her mother was waltzing with someone. Way to go Mom- she thought. Way to keep your focus. Syd would just have to take matters into her own hands. The key card was in his breast pocket . . . .
"Would you care to dance?" she asked, trying to move things along.
"It would be my pleasure." he said, eyeing her again.
Dancing with her hand on his shoulder, all she had to do was pretend to trip once and have him catch her, and before he noticed a thing, the key was in her hand. A few more minutes, and the waltz was over.
"Thank you, Ms. Smith." he said with an oily smile.
"No, Thank you, Mr. Khirschinov." Before he could advance any further, Syd turned and walked away with the code key, grabbing her mother by the arm along the way.
At the top floor, they casually sauntered in, and Irina began the task of finding her way through the labyrinth of halls and rooms in the facility.
"Thanks for all the help back there." Syd commented sarcastically as the made yet another turn down another white hallway.
"I recognized one of Khirschinov's bodyguards from a previous encounter. I couldn't have gotten within twenty feet of that conversation before being recognized. Besides, I knew you could pull it off on your own." Syd sighed. She always managed to have a good excuse. They stopped in front of one of the many identical doors that lined the hallways. The hard part was over.
From there on it was cake. Irina accessed the codes through some leftover voice identification she still had with the KGB, and they were out of the facility within the hour. Sydney loved it when things went according to plan. It was so much simpler, and she got home faster. It seemed that was hardly the case anymore though.
But surprisingly, as planned, they checked into their hotel for the night without any hitches. It had been so long since an operation had run smoothly, Sydney wasn't sure she trusted it. Her suspicions were pretty much dissipated, however, when she turned off the lamp, smiling at her mother in the next bed over.
"Goodnight, Mom."
"Goodnight, Sydney."
_____________________________
At 3 AM Sydney woke up, feeling the icy blue eyes upon her before she even opened her eyes. She looked over-her mother was still asleep, thank God.
"What are you doing here?" she whispered.
"I've come to collect on a favor you owe me."