Chapter Eight: The Nearness of You
As Sydney Bristow slowly surfaced from a deep ocean of sleep, she became aware that she was cold, her toes icy beneath the blankets. Searching for warmth, she scooted towards the center of the bed, hoping for a warm body to press against. Dismayed and surprised to find herself alone, Sydney opened her eyes a little, squinting against the sunlight that poured into the bedroom.
"Vaughn?" She asked, her voice weak from sleep. Sitting up a little, she tugged on the sheet and blanket until they were bunched up around her, tucked under her legs. She considered getting up and putting on some clothes, but that would mean she'd have to leave the bed and the little bit of warmth she had left.
Sydney looked around the small room, her eyes falling on the rustic furniture and Native American-themed decor. She had often wondered what the inside of a log cabin looked like and had been delighted to see that this one resembled the images inside her head. It was full of character, something right from the pages of a wilderness magazine.
"Vaughn!" Sydney called again, louder this time. She heard movement in the next room followed by footsteps in the hall. The door opened and Vaughn entered the room in nothing but his boxer shorts, his teeth chattering as he quickly dove for the bed.
"Sorry," He said, grabbing at the blanket. "I know it's cold. The fire went out in the middle of the night."
Sydney watched Vaughn slide under an edge of the covers, pulling the blanket from around her legs. Speaking of the fire, she said matter-of- factly, "You have to get up a couple of times and stoke it."
"Stoke?" Vaughn echoed, smiling as he settled back against his pillow, pulling the sheet up to his chin. "Listen to you with the technical terms. I'm impressed."
"Technical?" Sydney scoffed, snuggling against Vaughn's chest as he drew her into his arms. "Hardly. I've been hiking a few times, but as far as the wilderness stuff, I really don't know much."
Vaughn was amused. "Really? Then why do we call you `Mountaineer'?"
Sydney couldn't suppress a laugh. "Hey, you're the one who should know this stuff," She said pointedly. "You're `Boy Scout', remember?"
Vaughn nodded, waiting until Sydney's chuckles abated. "Funny," He told her sarcastically. He slipped his arm around Sydney's waist. "So our fire went out during the night. I seem to recall I was a little too busy to remember to stoke it."
Something about that phrase deeply amused Sydney, and a deep belly laugh escaped her lips. Vaughn was fascinated by it and waited for her to finish, her giggles tapering off before he reached up to rest his hand on her cheek.
"I love that," He breathed before placing a gentle kiss on her mouth.
Sydney pulled back a bit, puzzled. "Love what?" She asked.
"Your laughter," Vaughn replied, trailing a fingertip across her lips. "I hope I'll be hearing a lot more of it." He kissed her again, holding her tight with one hand while using the other to pull the blanket closer around his body. Sydney grabbed the edge of it and tugged, her face breaking into a wide, mischievous grin.
"Hey," She teased. "You're taking more than your share."
"Am not," Vaughn insisted, smiling himself as he yanked at the covers, leaving Sydney naked from the waist up. She gasped and sat up, stifling a laugh as she lunged at him, gripping the bed sheet in her fists.
"Are too!" She said, emphasizing each word with a pull on the blanket.
"Am not!" Vaughn pulled right back. The game was now on, the stage set for competition.
As Vaughn reached towards her to get a better hold on the bed covers, Sydney deflected him with her pillow, whapping him upside the head. He groaned playfully and rolled back onto the mattress, leaving the sheet and blanket fair game. Sydney swiftly scooped them up and then leapt out of bed and out of Vaughn's way as he lunged forward once again.
Sydney wrapped the covers around herself, securing them just under her arms, tucking the ends in like she would a towel after a bath. Smiling smugly at Vaughn, her eyes dared him to come after her and continue the game. He kneeled on the mattress, folding his hands and shaking his head as he smiled.
"I bet you never imagined when you took martial arts training that it would come in handy when playing bedroom games," He said. "You can now consider yourself a super spy and a master sheet stealer."
"Hmmm," Sydney pretended to mull this over. "Master sheet stealer. I like that," She suddenly raised her arms and struck a strongman pose, flexing her biceps while grinning victoriously. She was taken completely by surprise when the bed covers came untucked, dropping to the floor around her ankles and leaving her completely naked.
"Oh, yeah," Vaughn cheered. "That's what I'm talkin' about!" He moved to the edge of the bed and then grabbed Sydney around the waist, pulling her back onto the mattress. She screamed playfully, resisting him half- heartedly in an attempt to keep up the game. But it was no longer as fun as letting him kiss her, something he was doing now with an intensity that warmed them both, rendering the bed covers unnecessary.
A little more than two hours later, after Sydney and Vaughn had bathed and dressed, they stood in the kitchen together, gazing into the freezer. The refrigerator was empty, the cabin having been unused for some time. But in the freezer there were several items wrapped in unmarked aluminum foil and two bags of frozen peas.
"We could have peas," Vaughn offered, trying to be helpful.
Sydney groaned, rubbing her stomach. "I'm hungry, but not for peas," She said, frowning. "What's in those packages of foil?"
"I don't know," Vaughn grimaced, removing one from the freezer shelf and turning it over in his hands. "I don't know if I want to open it and find out. When Weiss calls, I'll ask him."
"I can't wait that long," Sydney protested, reaching past Vaughn and moving a few things around on the freezer shelf. "Maybe they've got something hidden in the back, like a box of waffles or Pop-Tarts."
Vaughn looked at her sideways. "Who keeps Pop-Tarts in the freezer?"
"The same people who have electricity and a water heater but not a furnace," Sydney shivered, her damp hair giving her chills. Neither one of them had packed a hairdryer nor had they been able to locate one anywhere inside the cabin.
Vaughn closed the freezer door. "Go sit by the fire," He coaxed, steering Sydney in that direction. "I'll keep looking. Maybe there are some canned goods in the pantry."
Sydney did as she was told, feeling the temperature in the hallway rising steadily the closer she got to the living room. Once she was there, she walked over and sat down on the wide brick hearth, her back to the fire. She shook out her hair and looked around, noting that the cabin looked the same in the daylight as it had the night before, but perhaps a little less romantic.
Sydney and Vaughn had reached the log cabin, owned by Weiss' family, close to midnight after driving north through California before finally ending up in the Oregon wilderness. Although it hadn't been used much in the past year, Weiss knew the bed sheets and towels were clean and the cabin would be comfortable for one night as long as they lit a fire. Vaughn had done just that soon after they had arrived and hauled their bags in from the car.
Sydney stirred from her quiet reflection to put another log on the blaze, watching the sparks disappear up the chimney as the other, half-consumed logs settled in under the weight of the new one. She turned to see Vaughn come into the room carrying two bowls of what appeared to be soup.
"Chicken noodle," Vaughn explained, handing one to Sydney. She brought the bowl close to her face and inhaled the aroma.
"It's not what I had in mind for breakfast," She confessed, accepting a spoon as Vaughn handed it over. "But as long as it's warm, I don't care."
"The microwave works," Vaughn nodded. "It's warm."
The couple settled onto the couch and began to eat, their hunger seeming to grow with each bite they took. Dinner the night before had been potato chips and peanut butter crackers they'd bought from vending machines at a highway rest stop.
Sydney had to admit to herself that so far, the trip had been almost fun. With rest stops and a log cabin, she was able to pretend, albeit briefly, that this was just a lovers' holiday. Thoughts to the contrary were pushed out and compartmentalized as soon as they appeared on her mind's horizon. As she ate her breakfast, she tried to concentrate solely on the good things: the warm fire, the tasty soup, and most importantly, Vaughn.
Vaughn finished his soup first and set the empty bowl on the coffee table before getting to his feet and wandering over to a bookcase across the room. He perused the titles, pausing every once in a while to pull a book out and flip through its pages before returning it and continuing on. After a little while of this, he had reached the bottom shelf and suddenly let out a burst of laughter.
Sydney looked up from the empty soup bowl she cradled in her lap, absorbing the last of its warmth with her fingers. "What?" She asked.
Vaughn pulled a photo album from the bookshelf, grinning. "It's Weiss's baby book," He said, his eyes gleaming. "This is gonna be good." Vaughn came back to the couch and opened the album on his lap. Sydney leaned into his shoulder to get a good look. The first page was a copy of Weiss's birth certificate. Vaughn was about to turn to the second page when his cell phone rang, startling them both.
Vaughn handed the book to Sydney and reached into his pocket for the phone. After answering, he laughed heartily. "We're fine," He said. "Thanks for asking. That reminds me - why didn't you tell me your middle name was Eugene?"
Sydney couldn't hear the other side of the call, but she was sure that Weiss was not happy that Vaughn now had this piece of information. She just smiled and turned pages in the book, her heart warming as she came across photos of Weiss with his first haircut, his first lost tooth, his first Halloween. She lost herself in the memories as Vaughn carried on the conversation beside her, getting vital information for their escape.
When the phone call ended, Vaughn turned to Sydney and smiled, watching as she reached the end of the album, her expression wistful. Vaughn reached out to her and swept a strand of hair back from her face.
"What?" He asked softly, sensing there was something behind her eyes.
Sydney just shook her head and handed the book back to Vaughn. "What did Weiss have to say?"
"He said that the picture of him in the bathtub was taken against his will," Vaughn joked, chuckling. Sydney smiled and shook her head. She knew she would miss Weiss's sharp sense of humor. Vaughn got up off the couch and returned the book to the shelf. "He also said," He went on. "We need to drive to Seattle. He gave me a number to a locker in the airport that will have plane tickets and credit cards in our new names and also a new cell phone, one that Weiss claims is untraceable."
"I believe it," Sydney said, getting up from the couch and gathering the bowls and spoons. She carried them into the kitchen and set them in the sink, then started to hunt through cabinets for dish detergent.
Vaughn appeared in the doorway, his wallet in hand. He pulled out his new drivers license and studied it. The CIA contacts Weiss had used were excellent at their jobs. The reproduction was flawless.
"From now on," He said. "For a while, at least, I'll be Nick Spencer." Vaughn thought for a moment. "That sounds like a sports reporter, doesn't it?" He put on a fake, announcer-style voice. "And now, live from the locker room, it's Nick Spencer with the results of tonight's big game."
Sydney laughed out loud while rinsing the soup bowls, her search for detergent unsuccessful. She cleaned them as thoroughly as possible and then set them in the drying rack next to the sink.
"If you're the sports reporter," She said, drying her hands on her jeans. "Then I'm the cheerleader." She held out her right hand for Vaughn to shake. "Hi, Kelly Callen. Nice to meet you."
Vaughn laughed and shook her hand before pulling her into his arms for a kiss. "Hmmm," He said. "A cheerleader, eh?"
Sydney swatted at him and pushed him away, laughing. "It's too early in this relationship for role-playing," She teased. "Besides, you've already seen my best costumes." She started down the hallway towards the bedroom. "We'd better get packed up and get on the road. What time is our flight?"
Vaughn followed, tucking the license back in his wallet. "Two-ten a.m." He entered the bedroom and watched for a moment as Sydney opened one of her suitcases on the bed and tucked in her clothes from the day before. "Syd, wait for a second," Vaughn reached out to her and grabbed her hand, pulling her away from the suitcase.
Sliding into his arms, Sydney looked into Vaughn's eyes, her heart melting as it did every time he drew her close. Vaughn pressed his lips to her forehead and then just held her, his arms tight and secure. They stayed that way for a long time, blocking out the world outside for every precious moment that they could.
Francie Calfo leaned back against the house, her face warm, her eyes wet and rimmed with tears. She hugged herself, rubbing away the goose bumps on her arms as she gazed out into the backyard, her eyes adjusting slowly to the night.
Hearing the back door creak as it opened, Francie glanced over as a triangle of light spilled out onto the porch. Will Tippin stepped timidly outside, temporarily blinded in the darkness. He waited there for a moment, listening, finally closing the door behind himself. He saw her at the same time she looked away, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.
"Francie," Will took a few steps towards her, stopping a foot or so away, sensing that she did not want him to hug her or even come any closer. He slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans, words escaping him.
Francie's voice, shaky and broken, filled the space between them. "It's crazy, Will," She said. "I mean - do you know how crazy it sounds?"
"I know."
Francie was in a state of disbelief. "She's my best friend, and all this time I didn't know. I never even suspected."
"I know," Will repeated, helpless to say much else.
"And you," Francie suddenly turned to him. "You've known for six months, and now you're even working for them?"
"I do research," Will interjected quickly. "That's all."
"No, that's not all," Francie said pointedly, anger bubbling to the surface. "You know all about Sydney's other life and you're involved in it. I know nothing, absolutely nothing, and yet you both claim to be my friend."
"Francie," Will reached out and caught one of her hands between his own. "Syd lied to me for a long time, too," He told her, his voice low. "The only reason I know anything is because she had to rescue me after I went digging in places I had no business being. I was almost killed because I didn't back off, even when she and her father told me to."
"Her father," Francie pulled back from Will and walked to the far end of the porch, her eyes tearing up again. "That man has been in my house, in my restaurant," She fought to control her emotions. "You've all lied to me."
Will hung his head for a moment, the truth of her words cutting like a knife. "Francie," He said. "We had to do it to keep you safe. Sydney's letter explained that and about Danny, about me. It's for your protection." Will's eyes darted out to the backyard, scanning the perimeter, looking for shadows in the bushes. "In fact, Fran, we probably shouldn't be talking about this outside."
Francie spun around to face Will, her eyes wide. "What?" She asked, clearly spooked. "Why? Is someone listening?" Looking out into the yard, she backed away from the edge of porch, stopping only when she bumped into the side of the house.
Will walked to her and took her by the elbow, gently steering her towards the door. Francie allowed him to guide her inside, but then she pulled away and left him, walking quickly to the dining room where dinner was still on the table. She stood and stared down at her plate of uneaten food and the letter that lay next to it. She was about to reach for it when Will appeared at her side and picked it up, folding it in half just before unceremoniously dropping it into the water pitcher in the center of the table.
Francie's eyes grew wide again as the letter instantly dissolved, drifting down to the bottom of the pitcher like grains of salt.
"C'mon," Will said as he gently touched her arm. "Let's go talk in the living room."
Francie stood her ground, her emotions a tumbling mess, her thoughts racing too quick for her to catch them in a framework of words. She simply nodded and followed Will over to the couch where they sank down in the cushions, Will pulling Francie's hand into his lap and holding it tightly.
Francie's eyes were dark, her expression troubled. "Is it even safe in here?"
Will smiled, giving Francie's hand a squeeze. He pointed across the room at a light fixture on the wall. "That has an anti-bugging device in it," He revealed. He then pointed towards the hallway. "There's one in each bedroom, too."
Francie followed his gesture, her face going blank, her eyes wide and wild. She suddenly jerked her hand back from Will and jumped to her feet, anger swelling and pushing her shock and fear aside.
"I don't even know who you are," She said, her voice hard. She backed away from the couch as Will slowly rose to his feet. "I have to get out of here. I have to go," Francie went quickly to her bedroom where she grabbed her purse and a sweater.
"Francie!" Will called to her as she breezed through the house, not stopping as she made her way to the front door. "Francie, don't go. Let's talk about this!" Will followed her. She paused briefly in the doorway to glare at him, her eyes aflame. Then she was gone, slamming the door hard enough to make the windows rattle.
Hours later, around one a.m., Francie had still not returned. Will paced the house once, twice and then a third time before finally deciding to go to bed. As he climbed under the covers, his body tired and his mind weary, he reassured himself with thoughts of Francie at the restaurant, finishing paperwork or drowning her sorrows in a drink or two at the bar.
Will flopped back against his pillow, resting an arm under his head as he stared up at the ceiling. He didn't blame Francie for running out; it had taken several days for the shock to wear off when he had first learned the truth. Although her circumstances had been less extreme, it hadn't served to soften the blow. Will understood that Francie felt betrayed; he had been one of her betrayers and had struggled with it from day one.
As tired as he was, it didn't take Will long to drift off to sleep. He was awakened, however, when he felt someone slip into bed with him and he reached out to take Francie's hand as she scooted close to his body.
"Will," She said, sniffing quietly. She was crying, large tears rolling down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Will."
Will slipped his arms around her as she settled in against him, her head on his chest. "It's okay, Francie," He murmured. "Everything is going to be okay." And as he drifted off to sleep again, Francie safely at his side, they both believed that what he said was true.
The afternoon breeze off the ocean ruffled the curtains and fluttered the pages of the newspaper spread out on the table. Vaughn reached up to hold them down, his eyes never leaving the story he was reading. He'd had to walk quite a distance to get a hold of an American newspaper, but it had been worth the trip.
"Syd," He called into the next room. "The Kings are in the middle of a winning streak."
Sydney Bristow rounded the corner of the bedroom and entered the modest kitchen with its sunny dining room where Vaughn sat at the wide, square table. Pulling out one of the chairs, she put down the laundry basket she had been carrying and looked up expectantly.
"Is there any important news in that paper?" Sydney teased, shaking out a bath towel. She folded it and set it on the table before moving on to another.
"Funny," Vaughn observed sarcastically before turning his attention back to the newspaper. He read a few more articles, scanning over most of the business and entertainment news. He lingered over a political page, then flipped over to the comics. They seemed funnier to him now than they ever had before; he decided that six weeks overseas could make any American humor seem hilarious.
Vaughn and Sydney were currently settled on the Greek island of Evia, in a small ocean side town. They had been living in a rental home near the shore for almost four weeks. After spending two weeks in Switzerland in a ski chalet in the mountains, a cold, snowy place that left them both homesick for California, a Greek island had been an easy choice.
The couple had settled into the small, comfortable home, unpacking almost all of their meager belongings even though they knew they'd have to move again in a few short weeks. They spent the majority of their time reading, relaxing and treating their time there as a vacation. Vaughn knew, however, that there would come a day when the money they'd pooled into the secret account that fueled their credit cards would run out and he'd need to find work. Until that point, however, they decided they'd just enjoy their time together and their life without demands.
Vaughn finished with the paper and carefully refolded it before setting it aside. He grabbed a grape from a fruit bowl on the table and popped it into his mouth, tipping his head back to catch a breeze as the curtains billowed in the window behind him.
At the other end of the table, Sydney stood, still folding the laundry. She took pleasure in simple tasks like this; she never seemed to have time for it in her life before. She seemed not to notice that Vaughn was watching her, a smile slowly spreading across his face.
The weather was especially pleasant that day, and Sydney had dressed comfortably in a pair of off-white gauzy cotton drawstring pants and a powder blue sleeveless t-shirt that ended an inch or so above her waist. Vaughn's eyes lingered on the succulent curves of the body he now knew so well, the feminine rise of her hips, the womanly slope of her belly. It was here that Vaughn's eyes lingered, studying the smooth skin peeking out below her shirt.
His smile fading a bit, Vaughn cocked his head and leaned in a bit, studying her closer. This she noticed, looking up and catching him staring at her waist. Sydney glanced down and then back up again to meet Vaughn's inquisitive eyes.
"What?" She questioned.
Vaughn shrugged. "I don't know," He said, his eyebrows furrowed. "Something just looks different."
Sydney glanced down again, this time allowing her eyes to linger on her stomach. She turned her attention back to the laundry, her eyes revealing nothing. "Different in a bad way?" She asked off-handedly, as if the answer to the question meant nothing to her.
Vaughn shrugged. "Not good or bad," He said. "Just different." Grabbing another grape, he looked once more at her stomach before dismissing the subject. "It's probably just that I'm not used to seeing you so relaxed."
Sydney smiled privately, finishing with the bath towels and moving on to the kitchen dishtowels. She folded them carefully, deliberately, taking pleasure in the simple act of it. There was something wonderful to her in keeping a house and making a home; it was basic and good and she took to it naturally. She told herself that it was because she was with Vaughn and because she loved him. But truthfully, it was all that and more. It was hers, a life she was choosing, a place she wanted to be. And that made her happy.
"Speaking of relaxed," Vaughn said as he got up from his chair. He grabbed a stack of folded dishtowels and returned them to their place in a kitchen drawer. "Where did you go early this morning while I was still sleeping?"
Sydney turned back to the laundry basket so Vaughn would not see her grinning, a rush of color in her cheeks. "I went to get something new for the fridge," She replied quietly, pulling out more clean towels.
Vaughn rubbed his hands together, anticipating a stellar evening meal. There was a fresh fish market not far from their house and Sydney often walked there early in the morning to find something to make for their supper. Impatient as he was, Sydney knew Vaughn would have to take a peek inside the refrigerator. She had been counting on this, and Vaughn did not let her down.
"You know I can't wait," Vaughn told her, taking a step towards the refrigerator. "When it comes to dinner, I hate to be surprised." He reached for the door handle and suddenly stopped cold, his eyes riveted to a photograph on the refrigerator door, something he'd never seen before. It was on a square sheet of paper, about the size of a postcard, fastened to the refrigerator door with a magnet shaped like the state of California, one that Sydney had brought from home.
Carefully, Vaughn reached out and removed the paper from beneath the magnet. He brought it close to his face, studying the grainy image. When he finally raised his eyes, they were wide with wonder.
"Syd," He said, his voice reverent. "Is this an ultrasound?"
Sydney left her laundry and came to Vaughn's side, her eyes rimmed with tears. She nodded, and Vaughn dropped his eyes to her stomach, his face changing from shock to amazement.
"That's what's different," He said, reaching out to gently touch her belly. "Oh my god, Syd," Vaughn smiled. "You're pregnant."
"You're happy, then?" Sydney asked, sliding into his arms. Vaughn embraced her tightly, kissing her forehead, kissing her lips.
"Happy?" He asked, pulling back to look into her eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks. "Are you kidding?" His grin was wide, his eyes dancing with light. "I'm thrilled, Syd."
"This is going to complicate things," Sydney said, folding herself into his embrace once again. Vaughn shook his head, stroking her hair, kissing her ear.
"Only in the best way," He assured her, glancing over her shoulder at the ultrasound in his hand. He kissed her again, his love for her overflowing his heart. "Only in the best possible way."
*******
A/N: Still more to come! I'm having a blast - I hope you are, too.
As Sydney Bristow slowly surfaced from a deep ocean of sleep, she became aware that she was cold, her toes icy beneath the blankets. Searching for warmth, she scooted towards the center of the bed, hoping for a warm body to press against. Dismayed and surprised to find herself alone, Sydney opened her eyes a little, squinting against the sunlight that poured into the bedroom.
"Vaughn?" She asked, her voice weak from sleep. Sitting up a little, she tugged on the sheet and blanket until they were bunched up around her, tucked under her legs. She considered getting up and putting on some clothes, but that would mean she'd have to leave the bed and the little bit of warmth she had left.
Sydney looked around the small room, her eyes falling on the rustic furniture and Native American-themed decor. She had often wondered what the inside of a log cabin looked like and had been delighted to see that this one resembled the images inside her head. It was full of character, something right from the pages of a wilderness magazine.
"Vaughn!" Sydney called again, louder this time. She heard movement in the next room followed by footsteps in the hall. The door opened and Vaughn entered the room in nothing but his boxer shorts, his teeth chattering as he quickly dove for the bed.
"Sorry," He said, grabbing at the blanket. "I know it's cold. The fire went out in the middle of the night."
Sydney watched Vaughn slide under an edge of the covers, pulling the blanket from around her legs. Speaking of the fire, she said matter-of- factly, "You have to get up a couple of times and stoke it."
"Stoke?" Vaughn echoed, smiling as he settled back against his pillow, pulling the sheet up to his chin. "Listen to you with the technical terms. I'm impressed."
"Technical?" Sydney scoffed, snuggling against Vaughn's chest as he drew her into his arms. "Hardly. I've been hiking a few times, but as far as the wilderness stuff, I really don't know much."
Vaughn was amused. "Really? Then why do we call you `Mountaineer'?"
Sydney couldn't suppress a laugh. "Hey, you're the one who should know this stuff," She said pointedly. "You're `Boy Scout', remember?"
Vaughn nodded, waiting until Sydney's chuckles abated. "Funny," He told her sarcastically. He slipped his arm around Sydney's waist. "So our fire went out during the night. I seem to recall I was a little too busy to remember to stoke it."
Something about that phrase deeply amused Sydney, and a deep belly laugh escaped her lips. Vaughn was fascinated by it and waited for her to finish, her giggles tapering off before he reached up to rest his hand on her cheek.
"I love that," He breathed before placing a gentle kiss on her mouth.
Sydney pulled back a bit, puzzled. "Love what?" She asked.
"Your laughter," Vaughn replied, trailing a fingertip across her lips. "I hope I'll be hearing a lot more of it." He kissed her again, holding her tight with one hand while using the other to pull the blanket closer around his body. Sydney grabbed the edge of it and tugged, her face breaking into a wide, mischievous grin.
"Hey," She teased. "You're taking more than your share."
"Am not," Vaughn insisted, smiling himself as he yanked at the covers, leaving Sydney naked from the waist up. She gasped and sat up, stifling a laugh as she lunged at him, gripping the bed sheet in her fists.
"Are too!" She said, emphasizing each word with a pull on the blanket.
"Am not!" Vaughn pulled right back. The game was now on, the stage set for competition.
As Vaughn reached towards her to get a better hold on the bed covers, Sydney deflected him with her pillow, whapping him upside the head. He groaned playfully and rolled back onto the mattress, leaving the sheet and blanket fair game. Sydney swiftly scooped them up and then leapt out of bed and out of Vaughn's way as he lunged forward once again.
Sydney wrapped the covers around herself, securing them just under her arms, tucking the ends in like she would a towel after a bath. Smiling smugly at Vaughn, her eyes dared him to come after her and continue the game. He kneeled on the mattress, folding his hands and shaking his head as he smiled.
"I bet you never imagined when you took martial arts training that it would come in handy when playing bedroom games," He said. "You can now consider yourself a super spy and a master sheet stealer."
"Hmmm," Sydney pretended to mull this over. "Master sheet stealer. I like that," She suddenly raised her arms and struck a strongman pose, flexing her biceps while grinning victoriously. She was taken completely by surprise when the bed covers came untucked, dropping to the floor around her ankles and leaving her completely naked.
"Oh, yeah," Vaughn cheered. "That's what I'm talkin' about!" He moved to the edge of the bed and then grabbed Sydney around the waist, pulling her back onto the mattress. She screamed playfully, resisting him half- heartedly in an attempt to keep up the game. But it was no longer as fun as letting him kiss her, something he was doing now with an intensity that warmed them both, rendering the bed covers unnecessary.
A little more than two hours later, after Sydney and Vaughn had bathed and dressed, they stood in the kitchen together, gazing into the freezer. The refrigerator was empty, the cabin having been unused for some time. But in the freezer there were several items wrapped in unmarked aluminum foil and two bags of frozen peas.
"We could have peas," Vaughn offered, trying to be helpful.
Sydney groaned, rubbing her stomach. "I'm hungry, but not for peas," She said, frowning. "What's in those packages of foil?"
"I don't know," Vaughn grimaced, removing one from the freezer shelf and turning it over in his hands. "I don't know if I want to open it and find out. When Weiss calls, I'll ask him."
"I can't wait that long," Sydney protested, reaching past Vaughn and moving a few things around on the freezer shelf. "Maybe they've got something hidden in the back, like a box of waffles or Pop-Tarts."
Vaughn looked at her sideways. "Who keeps Pop-Tarts in the freezer?"
"The same people who have electricity and a water heater but not a furnace," Sydney shivered, her damp hair giving her chills. Neither one of them had packed a hairdryer nor had they been able to locate one anywhere inside the cabin.
Vaughn closed the freezer door. "Go sit by the fire," He coaxed, steering Sydney in that direction. "I'll keep looking. Maybe there are some canned goods in the pantry."
Sydney did as she was told, feeling the temperature in the hallway rising steadily the closer she got to the living room. Once she was there, she walked over and sat down on the wide brick hearth, her back to the fire. She shook out her hair and looked around, noting that the cabin looked the same in the daylight as it had the night before, but perhaps a little less romantic.
Sydney and Vaughn had reached the log cabin, owned by Weiss' family, close to midnight after driving north through California before finally ending up in the Oregon wilderness. Although it hadn't been used much in the past year, Weiss knew the bed sheets and towels were clean and the cabin would be comfortable for one night as long as they lit a fire. Vaughn had done just that soon after they had arrived and hauled their bags in from the car.
Sydney stirred from her quiet reflection to put another log on the blaze, watching the sparks disappear up the chimney as the other, half-consumed logs settled in under the weight of the new one. She turned to see Vaughn come into the room carrying two bowls of what appeared to be soup.
"Chicken noodle," Vaughn explained, handing one to Sydney. She brought the bowl close to her face and inhaled the aroma.
"It's not what I had in mind for breakfast," She confessed, accepting a spoon as Vaughn handed it over. "But as long as it's warm, I don't care."
"The microwave works," Vaughn nodded. "It's warm."
The couple settled onto the couch and began to eat, their hunger seeming to grow with each bite they took. Dinner the night before had been potato chips and peanut butter crackers they'd bought from vending machines at a highway rest stop.
Sydney had to admit to herself that so far, the trip had been almost fun. With rest stops and a log cabin, she was able to pretend, albeit briefly, that this was just a lovers' holiday. Thoughts to the contrary were pushed out and compartmentalized as soon as they appeared on her mind's horizon. As she ate her breakfast, she tried to concentrate solely on the good things: the warm fire, the tasty soup, and most importantly, Vaughn.
Vaughn finished his soup first and set the empty bowl on the coffee table before getting to his feet and wandering over to a bookcase across the room. He perused the titles, pausing every once in a while to pull a book out and flip through its pages before returning it and continuing on. After a little while of this, he had reached the bottom shelf and suddenly let out a burst of laughter.
Sydney looked up from the empty soup bowl she cradled in her lap, absorbing the last of its warmth with her fingers. "What?" She asked.
Vaughn pulled a photo album from the bookshelf, grinning. "It's Weiss's baby book," He said, his eyes gleaming. "This is gonna be good." Vaughn came back to the couch and opened the album on his lap. Sydney leaned into his shoulder to get a good look. The first page was a copy of Weiss's birth certificate. Vaughn was about to turn to the second page when his cell phone rang, startling them both.
Vaughn handed the book to Sydney and reached into his pocket for the phone. After answering, he laughed heartily. "We're fine," He said. "Thanks for asking. That reminds me - why didn't you tell me your middle name was Eugene?"
Sydney couldn't hear the other side of the call, but she was sure that Weiss was not happy that Vaughn now had this piece of information. She just smiled and turned pages in the book, her heart warming as she came across photos of Weiss with his first haircut, his first lost tooth, his first Halloween. She lost herself in the memories as Vaughn carried on the conversation beside her, getting vital information for their escape.
When the phone call ended, Vaughn turned to Sydney and smiled, watching as she reached the end of the album, her expression wistful. Vaughn reached out to her and swept a strand of hair back from her face.
"What?" He asked softly, sensing there was something behind her eyes.
Sydney just shook her head and handed the book back to Vaughn. "What did Weiss have to say?"
"He said that the picture of him in the bathtub was taken against his will," Vaughn joked, chuckling. Sydney smiled and shook her head. She knew she would miss Weiss's sharp sense of humor. Vaughn got up off the couch and returned the book to the shelf. "He also said," He went on. "We need to drive to Seattle. He gave me a number to a locker in the airport that will have plane tickets and credit cards in our new names and also a new cell phone, one that Weiss claims is untraceable."
"I believe it," Sydney said, getting up from the couch and gathering the bowls and spoons. She carried them into the kitchen and set them in the sink, then started to hunt through cabinets for dish detergent.
Vaughn appeared in the doorway, his wallet in hand. He pulled out his new drivers license and studied it. The CIA contacts Weiss had used were excellent at their jobs. The reproduction was flawless.
"From now on," He said. "For a while, at least, I'll be Nick Spencer." Vaughn thought for a moment. "That sounds like a sports reporter, doesn't it?" He put on a fake, announcer-style voice. "And now, live from the locker room, it's Nick Spencer with the results of tonight's big game."
Sydney laughed out loud while rinsing the soup bowls, her search for detergent unsuccessful. She cleaned them as thoroughly as possible and then set them in the drying rack next to the sink.
"If you're the sports reporter," She said, drying her hands on her jeans. "Then I'm the cheerleader." She held out her right hand for Vaughn to shake. "Hi, Kelly Callen. Nice to meet you."
Vaughn laughed and shook her hand before pulling her into his arms for a kiss. "Hmmm," He said. "A cheerleader, eh?"
Sydney swatted at him and pushed him away, laughing. "It's too early in this relationship for role-playing," She teased. "Besides, you've already seen my best costumes." She started down the hallway towards the bedroom. "We'd better get packed up and get on the road. What time is our flight?"
Vaughn followed, tucking the license back in his wallet. "Two-ten a.m." He entered the bedroom and watched for a moment as Sydney opened one of her suitcases on the bed and tucked in her clothes from the day before. "Syd, wait for a second," Vaughn reached out to her and grabbed her hand, pulling her away from the suitcase.
Sliding into his arms, Sydney looked into Vaughn's eyes, her heart melting as it did every time he drew her close. Vaughn pressed his lips to her forehead and then just held her, his arms tight and secure. They stayed that way for a long time, blocking out the world outside for every precious moment that they could.
Francie Calfo leaned back against the house, her face warm, her eyes wet and rimmed with tears. She hugged herself, rubbing away the goose bumps on her arms as she gazed out into the backyard, her eyes adjusting slowly to the night.
Hearing the back door creak as it opened, Francie glanced over as a triangle of light spilled out onto the porch. Will Tippin stepped timidly outside, temporarily blinded in the darkness. He waited there for a moment, listening, finally closing the door behind himself. He saw her at the same time she looked away, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.
"Francie," Will took a few steps towards her, stopping a foot or so away, sensing that she did not want him to hug her or even come any closer. He slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans, words escaping him.
Francie's voice, shaky and broken, filled the space between them. "It's crazy, Will," She said. "I mean - do you know how crazy it sounds?"
"I know."
Francie was in a state of disbelief. "She's my best friend, and all this time I didn't know. I never even suspected."
"I know," Will repeated, helpless to say much else.
"And you," Francie suddenly turned to him. "You've known for six months, and now you're even working for them?"
"I do research," Will interjected quickly. "That's all."
"No, that's not all," Francie said pointedly, anger bubbling to the surface. "You know all about Sydney's other life and you're involved in it. I know nothing, absolutely nothing, and yet you both claim to be my friend."
"Francie," Will reached out and caught one of her hands between his own. "Syd lied to me for a long time, too," He told her, his voice low. "The only reason I know anything is because she had to rescue me after I went digging in places I had no business being. I was almost killed because I didn't back off, even when she and her father told me to."
"Her father," Francie pulled back from Will and walked to the far end of the porch, her eyes tearing up again. "That man has been in my house, in my restaurant," She fought to control her emotions. "You've all lied to me."
Will hung his head for a moment, the truth of her words cutting like a knife. "Francie," He said. "We had to do it to keep you safe. Sydney's letter explained that and about Danny, about me. It's for your protection." Will's eyes darted out to the backyard, scanning the perimeter, looking for shadows in the bushes. "In fact, Fran, we probably shouldn't be talking about this outside."
Francie spun around to face Will, her eyes wide. "What?" She asked, clearly spooked. "Why? Is someone listening?" Looking out into the yard, she backed away from the edge of porch, stopping only when she bumped into the side of the house.
Will walked to her and took her by the elbow, gently steering her towards the door. Francie allowed him to guide her inside, but then she pulled away and left him, walking quickly to the dining room where dinner was still on the table. She stood and stared down at her plate of uneaten food and the letter that lay next to it. She was about to reach for it when Will appeared at her side and picked it up, folding it in half just before unceremoniously dropping it into the water pitcher in the center of the table.
Francie's eyes grew wide again as the letter instantly dissolved, drifting down to the bottom of the pitcher like grains of salt.
"C'mon," Will said as he gently touched her arm. "Let's go talk in the living room."
Francie stood her ground, her emotions a tumbling mess, her thoughts racing too quick for her to catch them in a framework of words. She simply nodded and followed Will over to the couch where they sank down in the cushions, Will pulling Francie's hand into his lap and holding it tightly.
Francie's eyes were dark, her expression troubled. "Is it even safe in here?"
Will smiled, giving Francie's hand a squeeze. He pointed across the room at a light fixture on the wall. "That has an anti-bugging device in it," He revealed. He then pointed towards the hallway. "There's one in each bedroom, too."
Francie followed his gesture, her face going blank, her eyes wide and wild. She suddenly jerked her hand back from Will and jumped to her feet, anger swelling and pushing her shock and fear aside.
"I don't even know who you are," She said, her voice hard. She backed away from the couch as Will slowly rose to his feet. "I have to get out of here. I have to go," Francie went quickly to her bedroom where she grabbed her purse and a sweater.
"Francie!" Will called to her as she breezed through the house, not stopping as she made her way to the front door. "Francie, don't go. Let's talk about this!" Will followed her. She paused briefly in the doorway to glare at him, her eyes aflame. Then she was gone, slamming the door hard enough to make the windows rattle.
Hours later, around one a.m., Francie had still not returned. Will paced the house once, twice and then a third time before finally deciding to go to bed. As he climbed under the covers, his body tired and his mind weary, he reassured himself with thoughts of Francie at the restaurant, finishing paperwork or drowning her sorrows in a drink or two at the bar.
Will flopped back against his pillow, resting an arm under his head as he stared up at the ceiling. He didn't blame Francie for running out; it had taken several days for the shock to wear off when he had first learned the truth. Although her circumstances had been less extreme, it hadn't served to soften the blow. Will understood that Francie felt betrayed; he had been one of her betrayers and had struggled with it from day one.
As tired as he was, it didn't take Will long to drift off to sleep. He was awakened, however, when he felt someone slip into bed with him and he reached out to take Francie's hand as she scooted close to his body.
"Will," She said, sniffing quietly. She was crying, large tears rolling down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Will."
Will slipped his arms around her as she settled in against him, her head on his chest. "It's okay, Francie," He murmured. "Everything is going to be okay." And as he drifted off to sleep again, Francie safely at his side, they both believed that what he said was true.
The afternoon breeze off the ocean ruffled the curtains and fluttered the pages of the newspaper spread out on the table. Vaughn reached up to hold them down, his eyes never leaving the story he was reading. He'd had to walk quite a distance to get a hold of an American newspaper, but it had been worth the trip.
"Syd," He called into the next room. "The Kings are in the middle of a winning streak."
Sydney Bristow rounded the corner of the bedroom and entered the modest kitchen with its sunny dining room where Vaughn sat at the wide, square table. Pulling out one of the chairs, she put down the laundry basket she had been carrying and looked up expectantly.
"Is there any important news in that paper?" Sydney teased, shaking out a bath towel. She folded it and set it on the table before moving on to another.
"Funny," Vaughn observed sarcastically before turning his attention back to the newspaper. He read a few more articles, scanning over most of the business and entertainment news. He lingered over a political page, then flipped over to the comics. They seemed funnier to him now than they ever had before; he decided that six weeks overseas could make any American humor seem hilarious.
Vaughn and Sydney were currently settled on the Greek island of Evia, in a small ocean side town. They had been living in a rental home near the shore for almost four weeks. After spending two weeks in Switzerland in a ski chalet in the mountains, a cold, snowy place that left them both homesick for California, a Greek island had been an easy choice.
The couple had settled into the small, comfortable home, unpacking almost all of their meager belongings even though they knew they'd have to move again in a few short weeks. They spent the majority of their time reading, relaxing and treating their time there as a vacation. Vaughn knew, however, that there would come a day when the money they'd pooled into the secret account that fueled their credit cards would run out and he'd need to find work. Until that point, however, they decided they'd just enjoy their time together and their life without demands.
Vaughn finished with the paper and carefully refolded it before setting it aside. He grabbed a grape from a fruit bowl on the table and popped it into his mouth, tipping his head back to catch a breeze as the curtains billowed in the window behind him.
At the other end of the table, Sydney stood, still folding the laundry. She took pleasure in simple tasks like this; she never seemed to have time for it in her life before. She seemed not to notice that Vaughn was watching her, a smile slowly spreading across his face.
The weather was especially pleasant that day, and Sydney had dressed comfortably in a pair of off-white gauzy cotton drawstring pants and a powder blue sleeveless t-shirt that ended an inch or so above her waist. Vaughn's eyes lingered on the succulent curves of the body he now knew so well, the feminine rise of her hips, the womanly slope of her belly. It was here that Vaughn's eyes lingered, studying the smooth skin peeking out below her shirt.
His smile fading a bit, Vaughn cocked his head and leaned in a bit, studying her closer. This she noticed, looking up and catching him staring at her waist. Sydney glanced down and then back up again to meet Vaughn's inquisitive eyes.
"What?" She questioned.
Vaughn shrugged. "I don't know," He said, his eyebrows furrowed. "Something just looks different."
Sydney glanced down again, this time allowing her eyes to linger on her stomach. She turned her attention back to the laundry, her eyes revealing nothing. "Different in a bad way?" She asked off-handedly, as if the answer to the question meant nothing to her.
Vaughn shrugged. "Not good or bad," He said. "Just different." Grabbing another grape, he looked once more at her stomach before dismissing the subject. "It's probably just that I'm not used to seeing you so relaxed."
Sydney smiled privately, finishing with the bath towels and moving on to the kitchen dishtowels. She folded them carefully, deliberately, taking pleasure in the simple act of it. There was something wonderful to her in keeping a house and making a home; it was basic and good and she took to it naturally. She told herself that it was because she was with Vaughn and because she loved him. But truthfully, it was all that and more. It was hers, a life she was choosing, a place she wanted to be. And that made her happy.
"Speaking of relaxed," Vaughn said as he got up from his chair. He grabbed a stack of folded dishtowels and returned them to their place in a kitchen drawer. "Where did you go early this morning while I was still sleeping?"
Sydney turned back to the laundry basket so Vaughn would not see her grinning, a rush of color in her cheeks. "I went to get something new for the fridge," She replied quietly, pulling out more clean towels.
Vaughn rubbed his hands together, anticipating a stellar evening meal. There was a fresh fish market not far from their house and Sydney often walked there early in the morning to find something to make for their supper. Impatient as he was, Sydney knew Vaughn would have to take a peek inside the refrigerator. She had been counting on this, and Vaughn did not let her down.
"You know I can't wait," Vaughn told her, taking a step towards the refrigerator. "When it comes to dinner, I hate to be surprised." He reached for the door handle and suddenly stopped cold, his eyes riveted to a photograph on the refrigerator door, something he'd never seen before. It was on a square sheet of paper, about the size of a postcard, fastened to the refrigerator door with a magnet shaped like the state of California, one that Sydney had brought from home.
Carefully, Vaughn reached out and removed the paper from beneath the magnet. He brought it close to his face, studying the grainy image. When he finally raised his eyes, they were wide with wonder.
"Syd," He said, his voice reverent. "Is this an ultrasound?"
Sydney left her laundry and came to Vaughn's side, her eyes rimmed with tears. She nodded, and Vaughn dropped his eyes to her stomach, his face changing from shock to amazement.
"That's what's different," He said, reaching out to gently touch her belly. "Oh my god, Syd," Vaughn smiled. "You're pregnant."
"You're happy, then?" Sydney asked, sliding into his arms. Vaughn embraced her tightly, kissing her forehead, kissing her lips.
"Happy?" He asked, pulling back to look into her eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks. "Are you kidding?" His grin was wide, his eyes dancing with light. "I'm thrilled, Syd."
"This is going to complicate things," Sydney said, folding herself into his embrace once again. Vaughn shook his head, stroking her hair, kissing her ear.
"Only in the best way," He assured her, glancing over her shoulder at the ultrasound in his hand. He kissed her again, his love for her overflowing his heart. "Only in the best possible way."
*******
A/N: Still more to come! I'm having a blast - I hope you are, too.