Chapter Three
Geneviève Vaughn could not believe what she was hearing. She had been so proud of Michael, of his important position in the legal department of the FBI. Although, she had been worried at first that he might follow the same path as his father, because the last thing she imagined Michael to be was a lawyer, but he seemed to be content with his work.
Now, she knew why.
Bitterness twisted her lips, tightened her lovely face, as she stood outside the hospital room, listening to Michael's close friend at the CIA, Agent Weiss. The young man seemed truly contrite and looked as if he wanted to be any place but here. She could see how hard it was for him to break the news, but it was a testament to his closeness to her son that he did it anyway. He also explained Michael's situation and her fists clenched at her sides at the thought of her son in danger. She could remember the day the men came to her doorstep to tell her that her husband would not be coming home. When she saw the same kind of men standing on her doorstep just that day, she thought that she had somehow gone back in time, her mind not allowing her to even think that Michael was in danger. She thought she would faint when they told her that they had come about Michael.
"How could he do this," she murmured, her French accent faint, but still present. "How could I have been so stupid as to not see?"
"He only wanted to protect you, Mrs. Vaughn," Weiss said. "He didn't want you to worry."
"I thought you said he was not a field officer," she said with a frown. "How is it possible that he has become injured?"
"It was a special assignment," he answered smoothly, but he flinched when she glared at him. "I'm sorry. I can't tell you more than that."
"So, you are telling me my son has amnesia, that he almost got himself killed in the line of duty, and you expect me not to want answers. Agent Weiss, I have lived without answers for far too long, and I have reached my limit."
Weiss sighed and shook his head. "Mrs. Vaughn, I'm sorry. It's classified information."
Piercing green eyes drilled into Weiss' skull. "Alright, Agent Weiss. May I at least see him?"
"Yes, of course, but I must warn you, he won't remember you. He doesn't remember anything."
"I will deal with that. I just want to see my son."
Weiss opened the hospital door for her so she saw the visitor already there before he did.
"Who are you?" Geneviève asked the young woman seated next to her son. Her eyes were suspicious as she saw the slender hand clutching Michael's tightly and the red rimmed eyes blinking fast.
Sydney saw Weiss glare at her from behind the woman's back, but she ignored him. She knew the second Geneviève had walked through the door that she was Vaughn's mother. Her eyes were the same shade of green, and she even had the same dimple in her chin. Nervousness seized Sydney and she stared at her for a moment before standing up. She had only thought to visit Vaughn for a little while, but that little while stretched to two hours, and now she was caught. He had been asleep the whole time, having been sedated by the doctors, so she didn't think there would be any harm in it. From the look on Weiss' face, she thought wrong.
"My name is..."
"Mrs. Vaughn, this is Sydney Mason," Weiss interrupted. "She's a friend of Michael's."
"Ms. Mason," Geneviève said tightly. "You are close to my son." It was a statement, not a question.
"Yes, I am."
"You do not work with him?"
"I do work with him," Sydney said, remembering that she told Vaughn they were coworkers.
"I see."
Seeing the stricken look on Geneviève's face, Sydney felt her heart constrict. "I'm sorry about all this."
"It was not your fault," Geneviève said tiredly.
"We'll leave you alone, Mrs. Vaughn," Weiss said, afraid of what Sydney would say next.
"Yes," she said, taking the seat Sydney vacated. "That will be best, but I would like to speak to Ms. Mason later on."
Sydney only nodded. Without a word, she walked past Weiss, but before the door closed, she heard Vaughn's mother whisper brokenly, "Mon petit fils. Mon pauvre Michel."
Then, the door swung shut. Weiss sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair as he regarded Sydney. Tension crackled between them and she had to fight the need to take a step back away from him.
"You can't keep coming around here," he admonished, not bothering to hide his annoyance.
"I care about him too, Weiss," Sydney said, bristling at his tone and feeling her own temper snapping. He had been short with her for the last two days and at first she had chalked it up to stress, but she was stressed, too. "You can't just tell me to stay away."
"Yes, I can," Weiss said, taking a piece of paper out of his suit pocket. "I'm your new handler."
The blood drained from Sydney's face and she couldn't seem to find her voice.
"Try not to get too excited," he muttered.
"Pardon me if I don't throw a party," she threw back. "I'm surprised you would even take the job considering how you feel about me."
"How would you know how I feel about you?"
"I'm not an idiot. I can tell when someone doesn't like me and you sure as hell don't."
He took a step towards her and they stood nose to nose in the corridor. Sydney refused to give him any ground, and she looked straight into his eyes.
"Get this straight, Agent Bristow, I am going to do my job right," Weiss hissed. "Whether or not we have a good relationship is not relevant. This is not personal, got that?"
"We're way past personal, Agent Weiss, but I'm going to do my job right as well. I'm also going to visit Vaughn whenever I want to, but I'll be sure to check with you first. Got that?"
"You're putting him in danger by being here."
Sydney had considered that, but her need to be with him distracted her from living her life as if nothing had happened. She took a step back from Weiss and relaxed her face even though she wanted to throttle him.
"I just want to check up on him once and a while," she said, holding her hand out. "Can't I have that?"
He sighed, seeing the desperate look in her eyes.. "Alright, Sydney, but not every day and you have to check with me first or else we'll have a repeat of today. You lay low."
"Thank you."
Sydney didn't let him answer. She turned on her heel and left. Weiss stared at the closed hospital door for a few moments before going back in. Vaughn was up and he was chatting casually with his mother as if they were having lunch or something. She was telling him a story about his childhood, a childhood he couldn't remember, but what caught Weiss' attention was that they were speaking French.
"It's strange that his language skills have not been affected," Geneviève said, looking at him.
"The doctor says that it was mental trauma that wiped my memory clean," Vaughn said.
"Agent Weiss told me. When will you be able to go home?"
"In a couple days. Where's home?"
"You live in a condo in the city, but I want to take you home with me," Geneviève said firmly. "I will take of you."
She glanced at Weiss as if expecting him to protest, but he merely smiled.
"Good. It is settled. We have much to discuss if we are to find your memory. Starting with Sydney Mason."
Vaughn's forehead knotted, but before he could speak, Weiss jumped in.
"Uh, yeah, Mike, Sydney was in here visiting you but you were out cold."
There was no mistaking the disappointment on Vaughn's face. "Damn. I wanted to talk to her."
"She is special to you?" his mother asked.
"I think so," Vaughn answered after a brief hesitation.
"Good. We will have her over for dinner."
Weiss wondered if the Fates were playing a colossal joke on him.
Geneviève Vaughn could not believe what she was hearing. She had been so proud of Michael, of his important position in the legal department of the FBI. Although, she had been worried at first that he might follow the same path as his father, because the last thing she imagined Michael to be was a lawyer, but he seemed to be content with his work.
Now, she knew why.
Bitterness twisted her lips, tightened her lovely face, as she stood outside the hospital room, listening to Michael's close friend at the CIA, Agent Weiss. The young man seemed truly contrite and looked as if he wanted to be any place but here. She could see how hard it was for him to break the news, but it was a testament to his closeness to her son that he did it anyway. He also explained Michael's situation and her fists clenched at her sides at the thought of her son in danger. She could remember the day the men came to her doorstep to tell her that her husband would not be coming home. When she saw the same kind of men standing on her doorstep just that day, she thought that she had somehow gone back in time, her mind not allowing her to even think that Michael was in danger. She thought she would faint when they told her that they had come about Michael.
"How could he do this," she murmured, her French accent faint, but still present. "How could I have been so stupid as to not see?"
"He only wanted to protect you, Mrs. Vaughn," Weiss said. "He didn't want you to worry."
"I thought you said he was not a field officer," she said with a frown. "How is it possible that he has become injured?"
"It was a special assignment," he answered smoothly, but he flinched when she glared at him. "I'm sorry. I can't tell you more than that."
"So, you are telling me my son has amnesia, that he almost got himself killed in the line of duty, and you expect me not to want answers. Agent Weiss, I have lived without answers for far too long, and I have reached my limit."
Weiss sighed and shook his head. "Mrs. Vaughn, I'm sorry. It's classified information."
Piercing green eyes drilled into Weiss' skull. "Alright, Agent Weiss. May I at least see him?"
"Yes, of course, but I must warn you, he won't remember you. He doesn't remember anything."
"I will deal with that. I just want to see my son."
Weiss opened the hospital door for her so she saw the visitor already there before he did.
"Who are you?" Geneviève asked the young woman seated next to her son. Her eyes were suspicious as she saw the slender hand clutching Michael's tightly and the red rimmed eyes blinking fast.
Sydney saw Weiss glare at her from behind the woman's back, but she ignored him. She knew the second Geneviève had walked through the door that she was Vaughn's mother. Her eyes were the same shade of green, and she even had the same dimple in her chin. Nervousness seized Sydney and she stared at her for a moment before standing up. She had only thought to visit Vaughn for a little while, but that little while stretched to two hours, and now she was caught. He had been asleep the whole time, having been sedated by the doctors, so she didn't think there would be any harm in it. From the look on Weiss' face, she thought wrong.
"My name is..."
"Mrs. Vaughn, this is Sydney Mason," Weiss interrupted. "She's a friend of Michael's."
"Ms. Mason," Geneviève said tightly. "You are close to my son." It was a statement, not a question.
"Yes, I am."
"You do not work with him?"
"I do work with him," Sydney said, remembering that she told Vaughn they were coworkers.
"I see."
Seeing the stricken look on Geneviève's face, Sydney felt her heart constrict. "I'm sorry about all this."
"It was not your fault," Geneviève said tiredly.
"We'll leave you alone, Mrs. Vaughn," Weiss said, afraid of what Sydney would say next.
"Yes," she said, taking the seat Sydney vacated. "That will be best, but I would like to speak to Ms. Mason later on."
Sydney only nodded. Without a word, she walked past Weiss, but before the door closed, she heard Vaughn's mother whisper brokenly, "Mon petit fils. Mon pauvre Michel."
Then, the door swung shut. Weiss sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair as he regarded Sydney. Tension crackled between them and she had to fight the need to take a step back away from him.
"You can't keep coming around here," he admonished, not bothering to hide his annoyance.
"I care about him too, Weiss," Sydney said, bristling at his tone and feeling her own temper snapping. He had been short with her for the last two days and at first she had chalked it up to stress, but she was stressed, too. "You can't just tell me to stay away."
"Yes, I can," Weiss said, taking a piece of paper out of his suit pocket. "I'm your new handler."
The blood drained from Sydney's face and she couldn't seem to find her voice.
"Try not to get too excited," he muttered.
"Pardon me if I don't throw a party," she threw back. "I'm surprised you would even take the job considering how you feel about me."
"How would you know how I feel about you?"
"I'm not an idiot. I can tell when someone doesn't like me and you sure as hell don't."
He took a step towards her and they stood nose to nose in the corridor. Sydney refused to give him any ground, and she looked straight into his eyes.
"Get this straight, Agent Bristow, I am going to do my job right," Weiss hissed. "Whether or not we have a good relationship is not relevant. This is not personal, got that?"
"We're way past personal, Agent Weiss, but I'm going to do my job right as well. I'm also going to visit Vaughn whenever I want to, but I'll be sure to check with you first. Got that?"
"You're putting him in danger by being here."
Sydney had considered that, but her need to be with him distracted her from living her life as if nothing had happened. She took a step back from Weiss and relaxed her face even though she wanted to throttle him.
"I just want to check up on him once and a while," she said, holding her hand out. "Can't I have that?"
He sighed, seeing the desperate look in her eyes.. "Alright, Sydney, but not every day and you have to check with me first or else we'll have a repeat of today. You lay low."
"Thank you."
Sydney didn't let him answer. She turned on her heel and left. Weiss stared at the closed hospital door for a few moments before going back in. Vaughn was up and he was chatting casually with his mother as if they were having lunch or something. She was telling him a story about his childhood, a childhood he couldn't remember, but what caught Weiss' attention was that they were speaking French.
"It's strange that his language skills have not been affected," Geneviève said, looking at him.
"The doctor says that it was mental trauma that wiped my memory clean," Vaughn said.
"Agent Weiss told me. When will you be able to go home?"
"In a couple days. Where's home?"
"You live in a condo in the city, but I want to take you home with me," Geneviève said firmly. "I will take of you."
She glanced at Weiss as if expecting him to protest, but he merely smiled.
"Good. It is settled. We have much to discuss if we are to find your memory. Starting with Sydney Mason."
Vaughn's forehead knotted, but before he could speak, Weiss jumped in.
"Uh, yeah, Mike, Sydney was in here visiting you but you were out cold."
There was no mistaking the disappointment on Vaughn's face. "Damn. I wanted to talk to her."
"She is special to you?" his mother asked.
"I think so," Vaughn answered after a brief hesitation.
"Good. We will have her over for dinner."
Weiss wondered if the Fates were playing a colossal joke on him.
