Chapter 4
Follow You Down
"Sydney, are you sure you want to do this?"
"Yeah, I'm sure Dad. And Dad, don't worry, it'll be fine," Sydney spoke in hushed tones as Michael stirred slightly in the bed.
"Why are you whispering?"
"I don't want to wake Francie."
"Syd? A sleepy and confused Michael asked.
Shit!
"I gotta go. I'll talk to you later Dad."
Sydney hung up the phone before her father even had time to question the voice in the background. She forced a smile and crawled back into bed, snuggling against Michael. She desperately needed to feel safe and comfortable as she only did when she was in his arms.
"Was that your dad?"
"Yeah," she whispered, hoping her voice didn't falter too much.
She knew better than to try to hide something from him. He could sense there was something wrong by the way her body tensed against his and the way the breath held in her throat.
"Syd, what's wrong?"
"Mmm.?" She tried distracting him with a kiss.
"What did he say?"
"Talking about my dad while we're in bed together isn't very sexy Agent Vaughn. Didn't they teach you anything at Langley?"
"Well now you've corrupted a perfectly good Saturday morning," he rolled over, pretending disgust.
"Good. It's time to get up anyway."
Michael groaned and pulled the pillow over his face. Sydney grabbed his face and began pulling him up.
"What happened to the Sydney that liked to stay in bed all day?"
"That was just the beginning. I didn't know how disappointing you would be in bed," she teased.
"That's not what you thought last night." He raised an eyebrow seductively, almost turning her to mush even though he was kidding around.
"Well I didn't want to hurt Mikey's wittle..." she paused deliberately from her baby talk. "Ego."
"That hurts!" He feigned anger and turned his face from hers.
She playfully punched his arm. "I'm kidding baby. You know I think you're hot stuff."
"Well just for that you're not getting anymore of THIS hot stuff."
"You wouldn't!"
He turned and ran his eyes over her body. "You're right. I wouldn't. But you were worried for a second." Suddenly he reached over and pulled her on top of him. He began to tickle her and she squealed. She tried to get away but he pulled her back. "Take it back!"
"Never?"
"Sure about that?"
"Ok ok! I take it back!"
"What was that? I couldn't quite hear you!"
"You, Michael Vaughn, are a GOD."
He released her. "Much better."
"Now come on. Get up."
He groaned again. "Why do you always win?"
She leaned in and kissed him in response.
"Right. I forgot. Fine, I'll get up."
"I'll fix breakfast."
Michael smiled as she bounded from the room, knowing what Sydney's idea of making breakfast was.
THIS was happiness. This was what he had been waiting for. All of his problems melted away when she lay in his arms. Nothing could be better than waking up next to her, her features relaxed in sleep and her lips turned upwards in a slight smile of contentment. Sure, there were the nightmares. There were screams of terror in the night, not only screams of passion. Her terrified shrieks chilled his blood, but she always calmed when he spoke soothing words and held her close. It gave him a surge of pride that the amazing Sydney Bristow needed him for comfort and to chase away the demons in the night. It made him love her that much more for letting him into her world. The bad nights made the good nights that much more incredible.
"Michael," she sang from the kitchen, breaking his thoughts.
He pulled his shirt over his muscled chest, smoothed down his sandy hair, and went to join her.
Two bowls of cereal sat on the table in the airy kitchen. He chuckled slightly.
"What are you laughing at?"
He grabbed her by the waist and kissed her hair. "Just that your idea of making breakfast is pouring Golden Grahams into a bowl."
"You like Golden Grahams!" she protested.
"Yes, they're wonderful. Especially the way you make them."
She swatted the back of his head. "Eat before your gourmet breakfast gets soggy."
He smiled and went to work on the cereal. Sydney had already picked up the newspaper and laid out the sports section for him, the front page for her. Already they were settling in and learning each other's habits, beginning a routine together. Everything fit perfectly into place.
An outside observer would view the scene as a normal every day morning for a young couple. Silence over breakfast as they sat in companionship reading their paper. But as much as Sydney tried to carry on that charade, Michael knew something was different this morning. Sydney was an excellent actress, but he was also trained as a spy and had over the years learned her silent cues and slight nuances in behavior when she wasn't being fully honest.
She was trying too hard to concentrate on the paper in front of her. She was eating slowly, and from her eyes he could tell that her mind was elsewhere. She covered it well with her playful antics this morning, but now he needed the truth. Unfortunately, Sydney was stubborn, and he knew he was going to have to catch a flaw in her mask before she would confess.
He glanced over at the paper she was pretending to read.
"Another fire downtown, huh?"
"Yeah."
She was good. Didn't even flinch. Too bad everything on the front page was about politics.
"Anyone hurt?"
He watched her eyes suddenly focus on the print. And then he saw her react and understand what was going on. She folded the paper and put it aside but did not meet his gaze.
"Syd, you know you can talk to me. You don't have to pretend everything's fine," he said gently, noting the pain in her eyes. "Did I do something wrong?"
Sydney shook her head sadly. "No. No of course not. I'm sorry. I've just.I've been thinking, a lot, about my mom. Wondering.if this can ever work, you and me, knowing who she is."
Immediately Vaughn rose and went to her side, gathering her in his arms.
"Syd, your family is a part of who you are. But this isn't about your parents.or mine, or any combination of the two. It's about us. And about me.loving you. I love you. And that's what matters. Not something you had nothing to do with."
Here eyes welled up with tears; tears of joy at his words of love and acceptance, as well as tears of pain at lying to him. She had only lied to him once before and she had now idea how painful betraying his trust would be.
"I love you too."
He held her for a few more minutes and then pulled back.
"Let's put all this aside. Just for a weekend."
"What do you have in mind?"
"Let's drive up the coast. I know this great little inn, right on the beach. It'll take us most of the day to drive up there but we can get there in time to watch the sunset. It's so beautiful. It'll just be you and me. No work, no CIA, no cares."
If only he knew how untrue that was. But it sounded perfect, and Sydney couldn't think of a better way to spend her last weekend with Michael.
"You're quite the romantic you know."
"The Frenchman in me."
"I'll drive home and pack my stuff."
"Can you be ready in an hour?"
She shot him a look.
"Right. I'll pick you up in 30 minutes."
At her apartment Sydney threw a few outfits in her suitcase.
"Hey Syd."
"Oh, hey Will!"
"Not another trip?"
"Just up the coast. Michael and I are going up to some little inn. We'll be back tomorrow evening."
Will raised his eyebrows. "You two are getting serious!"
Sydney thought about denying it, but it was true. She could hide a lot of things, but the way she felt about Michael Vaughn was not one of them.
"Yeah. We are."
"Well in that case, can I give you a word of advice?"
"Sure."
Will walked to her closet and pulled out a dress. It was Sydney's favorite dress, a light linen sundress. She had only worn it a few times years ago when she was with Danny. Life had been so chaotic she rarely had the opportunity.
"Will, we're just going to be in the car all day."
"Come on Syd. Dress up for him. I know for a fact he'll enjoy it."
Sydney thought for a moment. Usually she didn't try to impress Michael, she was so comfortable with him. He'd certainly seen her in every outfit imaginable. He even asked her on a date when she had that holy terror in France. That was love. But she loved the dress, and she had a pretty good idea he wouldn't mind it too much.
"Ok."
Not surprisingly Michael was right on time.
"Always the boy scout," she teased as she opened the door.
His mouth comically dropped open as he drank in the sight of her.
"You like?"
"I love."
He pulled her into a kiss.
"Michael." she laughed, trying to pull away. "Vaughn! Come on. We'll end up in bed again!"
"So?"
"So I didn't get all dressed up just for you just to take it off again!"
"One more for the road."
He pulled her out on the front porch and closed the door.
They drove for a while, content to sit in companionable silence, hand in hand, the radio setting the rhythm of the road. Inwardly both were in deep thought. One trying to phrase a question and gather the courage to ask it, the other trying desperately to justify hiding the truth.
"Syd?"
Sydney jumped at his voice.
"What was that?" he asked.
"Sorry. You scared me."
"Thinking about something?"
"Just you."
He squeezed her hand. "Good. I was thinking of you too. And I was thinking.well I know the CIA wouldn't approve.but we could be discreet, I mean, we are spies."
Sydney laughed happily. "You sound like Marshall!"
His face flushed a furious red.
"I'm sorry. Go ahead Flinkman."
"You're ruining the moment here Syd."
"Oh ok. I'm sorry. Go ahead Balls of Steel."
"How the hell do you know about that?"
"I have connections."
"I'm going to kill him."
"Aww.I think it's cute!"
"Cute? CUTE??"
"Hot cute. Now go on. What were you going to ask?"
"Move in with me."
"Wow. Weiss was right about balls of steel. Was that a question or a command?" she teased.
"Depends. Which one turns you on?"
"Hmmm..command. I like the tough ass routine."
"So what do you say?"
"What took you so long? I've been dropping hints for weeks."
He picked up her hand and kissed it.
"This is like a dream Syd. I'm scared I'll wake up, something will happen."
"It won't," she said, even as she felt a pang of guilt.
They spent the rest of the drive discussing plans for moving in together. Tomorrow they would start packing and move all her clothes over. They wouldn't say anything to anyone that didn't have to know. Sydney assured him she could handle her father.
The sun was just beginning its descent across the sky as the pulled in next to the little inn. It sat facing the beach and was as quaint and picturesque as Sydney had imagined it.
Just then the strains of a song began on the radio.
"Follow You Down! Francie and I used to love this song."
"The Gin Blossoms are great."
"Dance with me."
"What??"
"On the beach! Come on!"
They got out of the car and kicked their shoes off in the sand. Sydney lead him down to where the water broke upon the beach. The sea breeze whipped through her hair and dress and a gentle mist rained against their skin as their bodies met. The spun in the sand, their feet bare against the warm grains.
"Anywhere you go." she sang softly. "I'll follow you down."
"God you have no idea how true that is Syd."
He pulled her down into the sand. "You're so beautiful," he breathed, blown away by love for her.
"Anyplace but those I know by heart." she continued.
He hummed along with her, punctuating each line of the song with sweet kisses.
"I love you so much Michael."
Her heart was ripping into a million pieces. She loved him so much it physically hurt and she could not bear keeping the truth from him any longer.
She pulled him close and clung desperately to his broad shoulders. Immediately he knew the moisture on her face was not from the ocean mist.
Instinctively he began to stroke her back, knotted with tension.
"What's wrong honey?" the endearment rolled off his tongue. He was startled by her sudden sadness.
"Michael." The firmness in her voice startled him even further. It was serious and grave. Yet there was a slight quaver. He pulled back slightly to examine her face. The expression was one he knew far too well. Her eyes were locked in steely resolved and her mouth pressed into a hard thin line. The lines of worry that had gradually disappeared over these weeks were back in full force. But this time, there was a hint of fear and a deeper sadness behind her determination.
"Sydney.please, no. Don't say what I think you're about to."
"Michael, I have to."
Michael pulled back and tears stung his eyes.
"Sydney, please. All that is over now. Let's move on!"
"Vaughn I have to go. I have to end this."
"Why?" he asked, sudden angry. "Why you? Why do you have to be the one to save the world? Why can't we just be happy?"
"Because we can't be until he's gone. He'll always be a shadow in our lives until he's DEAD and I couldn't bear that," she said bitterly.
"You knew all day didn't you? That's why your dad called this morning."
He turned his head, unable and unwilling to look at her and see the pain on her face. He was too hurt.
"Michael, I'm sorry. I just wanted it to be perfect. I, I wanted the time to be right."
"You lied to me Syd! And of all things you made up an excuse about your MOTHER?"
She sighed, exasperated. "You know I have to do this."
"No," he said firmly. "No. You don't." He turned slowly. "I'm going to the room. I need a little time."
"Sydney, are you sure you want to do this?"
"Yeah, I'm sure Dad. And Dad, don't worry, it'll be fine," Sydney spoke in hushed tones as Michael stirred slightly in the bed.
"Why are you whispering?"
"I don't want to wake Francie."
"Syd? A sleepy and confused Michael asked.
Shit!
"I gotta go. I'll talk to you later Dad."
Sydney hung up the phone before her father even had time to question the voice in the background. She forced a smile and crawled back into bed, snuggling against Michael. She desperately needed to feel safe and comfortable as she only did when she was in his arms.
"Was that your dad?"
"Yeah," she whispered, hoping her voice didn't falter too much.
She knew better than to try to hide something from him. He could sense there was something wrong by the way her body tensed against his and the way the breath held in her throat.
"Syd, what's wrong?"
"Mmm.?" She tried distracting him with a kiss.
"What did he say?"
"Talking about my dad while we're in bed together isn't very sexy Agent Vaughn. Didn't they teach you anything at Langley?"
"Well now you've corrupted a perfectly good Saturday morning," he rolled over, pretending disgust.
"Good. It's time to get up anyway."
Michael groaned and pulled the pillow over his face. Sydney grabbed his face and began pulling him up.
"What happened to the Sydney that liked to stay in bed all day?"
"That was just the beginning. I didn't know how disappointing you would be in bed," she teased.
"That's not what you thought last night." He raised an eyebrow seductively, almost turning her to mush even though he was kidding around.
"Well I didn't want to hurt Mikey's wittle..." she paused deliberately from her baby talk. "Ego."
"That hurts!" He feigned anger and turned his face from hers.
She playfully punched his arm. "I'm kidding baby. You know I think you're hot stuff."
"Well just for that you're not getting anymore of THIS hot stuff."
"You wouldn't!"
He turned and ran his eyes over her body. "You're right. I wouldn't. But you were worried for a second." Suddenly he reached over and pulled her on top of him. He began to tickle her and she squealed. She tried to get away but he pulled her back. "Take it back!"
"Never?"
"Sure about that?"
"Ok ok! I take it back!"
"What was that? I couldn't quite hear you!"
"You, Michael Vaughn, are a GOD."
He released her. "Much better."
"Now come on. Get up."
He groaned again. "Why do you always win?"
She leaned in and kissed him in response.
"Right. I forgot. Fine, I'll get up."
"I'll fix breakfast."
Michael smiled as she bounded from the room, knowing what Sydney's idea of making breakfast was.
THIS was happiness. This was what he had been waiting for. All of his problems melted away when she lay in his arms. Nothing could be better than waking up next to her, her features relaxed in sleep and her lips turned upwards in a slight smile of contentment. Sure, there were the nightmares. There were screams of terror in the night, not only screams of passion. Her terrified shrieks chilled his blood, but she always calmed when he spoke soothing words and held her close. It gave him a surge of pride that the amazing Sydney Bristow needed him for comfort and to chase away the demons in the night. It made him love her that much more for letting him into her world. The bad nights made the good nights that much more incredible.
"Michael," she sang from the kitchen, breaking his thoughts.
He pulled his shirt over his muscled chest, smoothed down his sandy hair, and went to join her.
Two bowls of cereal sat on the table in the airy kitchen. He chuckled slightly.
"What are you laughing at?"
He grabbed her by the waist and kissed her hair. "Just that your idea of making breakfast is pouring Golden Grahams into a bowl."
"You like Golden Grahams!" she protested.
"Yes, they're wonderful. Especially the way you make them."
She swatted the back of his head. "Eat before your gourmet breakfast gets soggy."
He smiled and went to work on the cereal. Sydney had already picked up the newspaper and laid out the sports section for him, the front page for her. Already they were settling in and learning each other's habits, beginning a routine together. Everything fit perfectly into place.
An outside observer would view the scene as a normal every day morning for a young couple. Silence over breakfast as they sat in companionship reading their paper. But as much as Sydney tried to carry on that charade, Michael knew something was different this morning. Sydney was an excellent actress, but he was also trained as a spy and had over the years learned her silent cues and slight nuances in behavior when she wasn't being fully honest.
She was trying too hard to concentrate on the paper in front of her. She was eating slowly, and from her eyes he could tell that her mind was elsewhere. She covered it well with her playful antics this morning, but now he needed the truth. Unfortunately, Sydney was stubborn, and he knew he was going to have to catch a flaw in her mask before she would confess.
He glanced over at the paper she was pretending to read.
"Another fire downtown, huh?"
"Yeah."
She was good. Didn't even flinch. Too bad everything on the front page was about politics.
"Anyone hurt?"
He watched her eyes suddenly focus on the print. And then he saw her react and understand what was going on. She folded the paper and put it aside but did not meet his gaze.
"Syd, you know you can talk to me. You don't have to pretend everything's fine," he said gently, noting the pain in her eyes. "Did I do something wrong?"
Sydney shook her head sadly. "No. No of course not. I'm sorry. I've just.I've been thinking, a lot, about my mom. Wondering.if this can ever work, you and me, knowing who she is."
Immediately Vaughn rose and went to her side, gathering her in his arms.
"Syd, your family is a part of who you are. But this isn't about your parents.or mine, or any combination of the two. It's about us. And about me.loving you. I love you. And that's what matters. Not something you had nothing to do with."
Here eyes welled up with tears; tears of joy at his words of love and acceptance, as well as tears of pain at lying to him. She had only lied to him once before and she had now idea how painful betraying his trust would be.
"I love you too."
He held her for a few more minutes and then pulled back.
"Let's put all this aside. Just for a weekend."
"What do you have in mind?"
"Let's drive up the coast. I know this great little inn, right on the beach. It'll take us most of the day to drive up there but we can get there in time to watch the sunset. It's so beautiful. It'll just be you and me. No work, no CIA, no cares."
If only he knew how untrue that was. But it sounded perfect, and Sydney couldn't think of a better way to spend her last weekend with Michael.
"You're quite the romantic you know."
"The Frenchman in me."
"I'll drive home and pack my stuff."
"Can you be ready in an hour?"
She shot him a look.
"Right. I'll pick you up in 30 minutes."
At her apartment Sydney threw a few outfits in her suitcase.
"Hey Syd."
"Oh, hey Will!"
"Not another trip?"
"Just up the coast. Michael and I are going up to some little inn. We'll be back tomorrow evening."
Will raised his eyebrows. "You two are getting serious!"
Sydney thought about denying it, but it was true. She could hide a lot of things, but the way she felt about Michael Vaughn was not one of them.
"Yeah. We are."
"Well in that case, can I give you a word of advice?"
"Sure."
Will walked to her closet and pulled out a dress. It was Sydney's favorite dress, a light linen sundress. She had only worn it a few times years ago when she was with Danny. Life had been so chaotic she rarely had the opportunity.
"Will, we're just going to be in the car all day."
"Come on Syd. Dress up for him. I know for a fact he'll enjoy it."
Sydney thought for a moment. Usually she didn't try to impress Michael, she was so comfortable with him. He'd certainly seen her in every outfit imaginable. He even asked her on a date when she had that holy terror in France. That was love. But she loved the dress, and she had a pretty good idea he wouldn't mind it too much.
"Ok."
Not surprisingly Michael was right on time.
"Always the boy scout," she teased as she opened the door.
His mouth comically dropped open as he drank in the sight of her.
"You like?"
"I love."
He pulled her into a kiss.
"Michael." she laughed, trying to pull away. "Vaughn! Come on. We'll end up in bed again!"
"So?"
"So I didn't get all dressed up just for you just to take it off again!"
"One more for the road."
He pulled her out on the front porch and closed the door.
They drove for a while, content to sit in companionable silence, hand in hand, the radio setting the rhythm of the road. Inwardly both were in deep thought. One trying to phrase a question and gather the courage to ask it, the other trying desperately to justify hiding the truth.
"Syd?"
Sydney jumped at his voice.
"What was that?" he asked.
"Sorry. You scared me."
"Thinking about something?"
"Just you."
He squeezed her hand. "Good. I was thinking of you too. And I was thinking.well I know the CIA wouldn't approve.but we could be discreet, I mean, we are spies."
Sydney laughed happily. "You sound like Marshall!"
His face flushed a furious red.
"I'm sorry. Go ahead Flinkman."
"You're ruining the moment here Syd."
"Oh ok. I'm sorry. Go ahead Balls of Steel."
"How the hell do you know about that?"
"I have connections."
"I'm going to kill him."
"Aww.I think it's cute!"
"Cute? CUTE??"
"Hot cute. Now go on. What were you going to ask?"
"Move in with me."
"Wow. Weiss was right about balls of steel. Was that a question or a command?" she teased.
"Depends. Which one turns you on?"
"Hmmm..command. I like the tough ass routine."
"So what do you say?"
"What took you so long? I've been dropping hints for weeks."
He picked up her hand and kissed it.
"This is like a dream Syd. I'm scared I'll wake up, something will happen."
"It won't," she said, even as she felt a pang of guilt.
They spent the rest of the drive discussing plans for moving in together. Tomorrow they would start packing and move all her clothes over. They wouldn't say anything to anyone that didn't have to know. Sydney assured him she could handle her father.
The sun was just beginning its descent across the sky as the pulled in next to the little inn. It sat facing the beach and was as quaint and picturesque as Sydney had imagined it.
Just then the strains of a song began on the radio.
"Follow You Down! Francie and I used to love this song."
"The Gin Blossoms are great."
"Dance with me."
"What??"
"On the beach! Come on!"
They got out of the car and kicked their shoes off in the sand. Sydney lead him down to where the water broke upon the beach. The sea breeze whipped through her hair and dress and a gentle mist rained against their skin as their bodies met. The spun in the sand, their feet bare against the warm grains.
"Anywhere you go." she sang softly. "I'll follow you down."
"God you have no idea how true that is Syd."
He pulled her down into the sand. "You're so beautiful," he breathed, blown away by love for her.
"Anyplace but those I know by heart." she continued.
He hummed along with her, punctuating each line of the song with sweet kisses.
"I love you so much Michael."
Her heart was ripping into a million pieces. She loved him so much it physically hurt and she could not bear keeping the truth from him any longer.
She pulled him close and clung desperately to his broad shoulders. Immediately he knew the moisture on her face was not from the ocean mist.
Instinctively he began to stroke her back, knotted with tension.
"What's wrong honey?" the endearment rolled off his tongue. He was startled by her sudden sadness.
"Michael." The firmness in her voice startled him even further. It was serious and grave. Yet there was a slight quaver. He pulled back slightly to examine her face. The expression was one he knew far too well. Her eyes were locked in steely resolved and her mouth pressed into a hard thin line. The lines of worry that had gradually disappeared over these weeks were back in full force. But this time, there was a hint of fear and a deeper sadness behind her determination.
"Sydney.please, no. Don't say what I think you're about to."
"Michael, I have to."
Michael pulled back and tears stung his eyes.
"Sydney, please. All that is over now. Let's move on!"
"Vaughn I have to go. I have to end this."
"Why?" he asked, sudden angry. "Why you? Why do you have to be the one to save the world? Why can't we just be happy?"
"Because we can't be until he's gone. He'll always be a shadow in our lives until he's DEAD and I couldn't bear that," she said bitterly.
"You knew all day didn't you? That's why your dad called this morning."
He turned his head, unable and unwilling to look at her and see the pain on her face. He was too hurt.
"Michael, I'm sorry. I just wanted it to be perfect. I, I wanted the time to be right."
"You lied to me Syd! And of all things you made up an excuse about your MOTHER?"
She sighed, exasperated. "You know I have to do this."
"No," he said firmly. "No. You don't." He turned slowly. "I'm going to the room. I need a little time."