Chapter Nine
Never had the Credit Dauphine building looked more menacing. Around Sydney, employees were scurrying into the structure, looking for all the world like busy bankers on their cell phones sealing multi-million dollar deals. Parking her car in the garage, Sydney joined the few who didn't work in the building, but under it. She clutched at her purse strap tightly, preparing herself for what would occur when she stepped from the elevator.
Like she'd imagined, Sloane emerged from his office just as she put a booted foot outside of the elevator. He smiled disarmingly at her and beckoned for her to enter. Smiling, relaxed for all to see, Sydney went into his office.
"Good morning," she said.
"Good morning, Sydney," Sloane said, sitting on a corner of his desk. "Please, take a seat."
Keeping a small smile on her face, Sydney took the seat directly in front of him, the move meant to show that she wasn't worried about what he had to say to her. That he would ask her about Vaughn was inevitable and something that he knew she was aware of. It was all about the delivery.
"So, what's this I hear about you dating someone?" he said, cocking his head to one side curiously.
Here goes nothing, she thought.
Smiling sheepishly and hoping that he took the flush at her cheeks to be embarrassment instead of heightened blood pressure, Sydney clasped her hands on her lap and played it the way she planned.
"His name is Michael Vaughn," she said, her voice containing the right amount of breathlessness. "We're not quite dating. We just met last night at a pub. I wanted to get a quick drink before going home and he was there. He introduced himself and we got a table. We saw Dixon there."
"I heard," Sloane said. "Will you be seeing him again?"
"I'd like to. He gave me his phone number and it's up to me to call him."
Sydney could tell by the way that his eyes zeroed in on her face that Sloane was about to deliver a crippling blow.
"Are you aware that he works for the CIA?"
She didn't have to pretend to look contrite. "Yes, I learned that last night."
"Yet, you wish to continue seeing him? I question the soundness of that decision."
Nor did she have to pretend to be torn by this. "I realize that there is a conflict in that area, but...there's something about this man, Sloane," she said, meaning every word. "We haven't known each other for that long, but I just feel this connection with him." She stood up and began to pace. "I realize that it would be difficult for me in the long run because of SD-6 and the CIA, but we're all part of one big happy family right? Our affiliations may differ, but we're working towards the same goal. Michael is a good man and I've never met anyone like him."
Sloane regarded her thoughtfully. "I've never seen you this passionate about something before."
"I'm lonely, Sloane. I know this life that we're leading isn't supposed to be easy and most of us are alienated from the rest of the world, but...I just want someone for a little while. You have Emily and Dixon has Diane...I have no one. My father and I are too distant and scarred to be any closer than we already are." Her lips twisted bitterly. "And my mother...after what happened this past month, I'm surprised I haven't had a nervous breakdown. I need this."
Sydney paused, noticing how pale Sloane suddenly got.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"Emily...Emily died," he murmured.
Sydney felt the blood drain her face and she sat back down again, hard.
"I thought she was in remission," she said, more stunned than saddened. "I thought she was fine and that she'd gone home. What happened?"
Sloane cleared his throat. "She died in her sleep last week."
Sydney embraced him, tears in her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Sloane. I wish that you'd told me sooner, but know that I'll be here for you."
He patted her back awkwardly. "Thank you, Sydney. I've been working overtime for the past week because it's too hard to stay at home alone. You were right...sometimes you do just need one other person to be there and Emily was all that and more."
"When's her funeral?"
"She wanted a private burial. I buried her three days ago."
"Alone?"
"Yes."
Sydney wiped her eyes. "I'd like to visit her gravesite."
Sloane nodded. "That's not a problem. Now...about Michael Vaughn..."
"Give me a chance to have what you had with Emily."
Sydney took a gamble by saying that, hoping that she could appeal to the more emotional side of her boss, and to her utter relief, she could see that it worked. His barriers lowered somewhat and along with his natural propensity to favor this particular SD-6 agent, he nodded.
"Alright, Sydney," he said resignedly. "Have your fun with Agent Vaughn, but don't take it much farther than you have to. Anything past the dating stage for either of you would be disasterous."
Remembering Danny, Sydney's lips tightened. She read Sloane's message between the lines; there would be no confessions on this relationship or else...
"I don't know why I'm doing this," he said, standing. "But I think it's something Emily would have approved of. You do need this Sydney. You've been walking around here with a cloud over your head and because you're one of the best, I'll let this one pass. Whatever you do, do not get too close to Agent Vaughn. That's all I can say."
"Yes, sir," she acknowledged, rising. "You don't know what this means to me."
With a parting smile, she left the office only to run into her father. Jack Bristow looked positively thunderous and he stared down at his only daughter.
"We need to talk," he said. "I'll come by your desk for lunch."
"Dad..."
"Later, Sydney."
He brushed by her and went into Sloane's office. Sydney took a deep breath to gather herself. It wasn't even nine o'clock in the morning and already she was wishing that the day was over. News of Emily's death saddened her because she had truly liked Sloane's wife and Sydney often wondered how she ever got stuck with a monster like Sloane. Fighting back a fresh onslaught of tears, she went to her desk and sat down. Across from her, Dixon was sitting back in his seat.
"You heard about Emily," he said kindly. "I'm sorry. I know you were close to her."
"Yeah," Sydney said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "I wish I could have gone to a funeral to say good-bye, but Sloane didn't have one."
"I see."
Sydney shuffled papers on her desk and Dixon picked up a report he was reading.
"Dixon, the man you saw me with last night, he's CIA," Sydney said, not looking at him.
She heard him put the report down, refusing to meet his eyes.
"What?" he demanded, an edge to his voice.
"He's a CIA agent."
"Jesus," her partner sighed. "What possessed you to date a CIA agent? Sloane knows, doesn't he? That's why you were in there."
"Yes."
"What does he have to say about all this."
"He gave me his blessing."
Dixon blinked. "You're joking."
"No."
"He must have taken a leave of his senses. Do you know how many ways we can be penetrated simply by you dating a CIA agent?"
"Yes," Sydney muttered, getting tired of this conversation. "I also know that I want to keep seeing him. The last man I was with was Danny and I...I'm lonely, Dixon."
Although he looked sympathetic, Sydney could tell Dixon was none too happy about this turn of events.
"Just trust me, please," she said.
Trust. She could see the word rang in Dixon's head and belatedly, she remembered how shaky his trust for her was.
"Okay," he said cautiously. "Just be careful, alright? He looked like a nice guy, Syd, and I'm just afraid that things might go beyond your control."
She reached across her desk and patted his hand. "I'll be fine. Don't worry."
* * *
Jack felt like his head was going to split open right in the middle, that was how bad his headache was. After hearing about Sydney taking Vaughn out the night before, it started to hurt right at his temples. Then, learning that Dixon had seen them, the pain had moved behind his eyes. When he figured out on his own that Sloane would find out, it just exploded until he was afraid he would black out and seeing Sydney emerge from their boss' office nearly made him lose it.
But Jack Bristow was one of the best in his field and he kept his cool. As Sloane discussed new intelligence reports they had just received, he listened intently, though a part of his mind continued examining Sydney's situation. Still, his anger at his daughter for being so careless was making him clench his fists until his knuckles turned white. He made it a point not to keep on glancing at his watch every second, but like clockwork, he checked in thirty minute increments. Finally, noon rolled around and he got up from his chair, leaving reports that he hardly read, to find Sydney.
She was already standing when he saw her, her purse slung on one shoulder. Not saying anything, Jack took her elbow and lead her to the elevator. She tensed under his grip, but kept her mouth shut, though her eyes were shooting darts at him. They walked to his car and got in.
Sydney waited for her father to say something, but he stayed obstinately silent. He kept his eyes on the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. She could see a vein pulsing in his temple and hoped they were going somewhere public so that he didn't dress her down. Her own temper flared up.
By the time they reached Sara's Deli, they were both breathing harshly and barely looking at each other. They sat down and glared for a few moments before the server arrived to take their order. When he was out of an earshot, Jack finally spoke.
"Have you lost your mind?" he hissed, leaning forward, lessening the space between them.
"Dad, I know," she returned between gritted teeth. "I know the consequences and I know what could happen."
"You know, but you don't understand."
"I do."
"Then why are we sitting here talking about this?"
"Because...I need him," she confessed at a moment of weakness. She wanted someone to understand, anyone.
Jack sat back, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You don't need anybody, Sydney. You can want them, you can love them, but you don't ever need anybody."
"That's not true."
"In this line of work, you have to make it true. How many times do you have to hear this lecture before you get it? You can't have this relationship with Michael Vaughn. It can only lead to..."
"I know!" Sydney said, her voice loud enough so that people around them glanced their way. Self-conscious, she slouched in her seat and regarded her father much like a petulant child. "I've heard this spiel from Weiss, Dixon, and Sloane. I can hardly let a minute go by without thinking about what can happen if this doesn't turn out like it should. I know, Dad, and believe me, I'm not going to forget. Berating me now isn't going to help either."
That seemed to have pacified him for the moment. Jack took a sip of his coffee.
"Have you seen your friend, Mr. Tippin?" he asked conversationally as if they hadn't just been arguing.
Sydney groaned, closing her eyes and putting a hand to her forehead. "I can't believe it...I actually forgot about him. How is he doing?"
"He's scratching at the walls to get out. The last couple days, he's been driving his agents nuts asking for you."
A muscle in Sydney's jaw worked. "I'll go see him today."
"No, you can't."
"What?"
"Sloane is going to have you followed closely for however long you keep up this charade with Mr. Vaughn and a long time after that. You can't risk it."
"What do I do about Weiss? I don't want to drag him into this, too. Can you get word to him to not set up face-to-face meetings with me? I think we should start exchanging messages through another medium."
Jack nodded, warming to the idea. "Not e-mail, nothing that can leave a trail."
"I think I'll be picking up a lot of garbage in my future."
Their lunch came and Sydney realized she was starving. She hadn't been able to eat breakfast that morning.
"This won't end happily," Jack said, a gentleness in his voice that she hadn't heard before. "It will only get harder, Sydney."
"As long as SD-6 exists, nothing will ever be easy, Dad."
Never had the Credit Dauphine building looked more menacing. Around Sydney, employees were scurrying into the structure, looking for all the world like busy bankers on their cell phones sealing multi-million dollar deals. Parking her car in the garage, Sydney joined the few who didn't work in the building, but under it. She clutched at her purse strap tightly, preparing herself for what would occur when she stepped from the elevator.
Like she'd imagined, Sloane emerged from his office just as she put a booted foot outside of the elevator. He smiled disarmingly at her and beckoned for her to enter. Smiling, relaxed for all to see, Sydney went into his office.
"Good morning," she said.
"Good morning, Sydney," Sloane said, sitting on a corner of his desk. "Please, take a seat."
Keeping a small smile on her face, Sydney took the seat directly in front of him, the move meant to show that she wasn't worried about what he had to say to her. That he would ask her about Vaughn was inevitable and something that he knew she was aware of. It was all about the delivery.
"So, what's this I hear about you dating someone?" he said, cocking his head to one side curiously.
Here goes nothing, she thought.
Smiling sheepishly and hoping that he took the flush at her cheeks to be embarrassment instead of heightened blood pressure, Sydney clasped her hands on her lap and played it the way she planned.
"His name is Michael Vaughn," she said, her voice containing the right amount of breathlessness. "We're not quite dating. We just met last night at a pub. I wanted to get a quick drink before going home and he was there. He introduced himself and we got a table. We saw Dixon there."
"I heard," Sloane said. "Will you be seeing him again?"
"I'd like to. He gave me his phone number and it's up to me to call him."
Sydney could tell by the way that his eyes zeroed in on her face that Sloane was about to deliver a crippling blow.
"Are you aware that he works for the CIA?"
She didn't have to pretend to look contrite. "Yes, I learned that last night."
"Yet, you wish to continue seeing him? I question the soundness of that decision."
Nor did she have to pretend to be torn by this. "I realize that there is a conflict in that area, but...there's something about this man, Sloane," she said, meaning every word. "We haven't known each other for that long, but I just feel this connection with him." She stood up and began to pace. "I realize that it would be difficult for me in the long run because of SD-6 and the CIA, but we're all part of one big happy family right? Our affiliations may differ, but we're working towards the same goal. Michael is a good man and I've never met anyone like him."
Sloane regarded her thoughtfully. "I've never seen you this passionate about something before."
"I'm lonely, Sloane. I know this life that we're leading isn't supposed to be easy and most of us are alienated from the rest of the world, but...I just want someone for a little while. You have Emily and Dixon has Diane...I have no one. My father and I are too distant and scarred to be any closer than we already are." Her lips twisted bitterly. "And my mother...after what happened this past month, I'm surprised I haven't had a nervous breakdown. I need this."
Sydney paused, noticing how pale Sloane suddenly got.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"Emily...Emily died," he murmured.
Sydney felt the blood drain her face and she sat back down again, hard.
"I thought she was in remission," she said, more stunned than saddened. "I thought she was fine and that she'd gone home. What happened?"
Sloane cleared his throat. "She died in her sleep last week."
Sydney embraced him, tears in her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Sloane. I wish that you'd told me sooner, but know that I'll be here for you."
He patted her back awkwardly. "Thank you, Sydney. I've been working overtime for the past week because it's too hard to stay at home alone. You were right...sometimes you do just need one other person to be there and Emily was all that and more."
"When's her funeral?"
"She wanted a private burial. I buried her three days ago."
"Alone?"
"Yes."
Sydney wiped her eyes. "I'd like to visit her gravesite."
Sloane nodded. "That's not a problem. Now...about Michael Vaughn..."
"Give me a chance to have what you had with Emily."
Sydney took a gamble by saying that, hoping that she could appeal to the more emotional side of her boss, and to her utter relief, she could see that it worked. His barriers lowered somewhat and along with his natural propensity to favor this particular SD-6 agent, he nodded.
"Alright, Sydney," he said resignedly. "Have your fun with Agent Vaughn, but don't take it much farther than you have to. Anything past the dating stage for either of you would be disasterous."
Remembering Danny, Sydney's lips tightened. She read Sloane's message between the lines; there would be no confessions on this relationship or else...
"I don't know why I'm doing this," he said, standing. "But I think it's something Emily would have approved of. You do need this Sydney. You've been walking around here with a cloud over your head and because you're one of the best, I'll let this one pass. Whatever you do, do not get too close to Agent Vaughn. That's all I can say."
"Yes, sir," she acknowledged, rising. "You don't know what this means to me."
With a parting smile, she left the office only to run into her father. Jack Bristow looked positively thunderous and he stared down at his only daughter.
"We need to talk," he said. "I'll come by your desk for lunch."
"Dad..."
"Later, Sydney."
He brushed by her and went into Sloane's office. Sydney took a deep breath to gather herself. It wasn't even nine o'clock in the morning and already she was wishing that the day was over. News of Emily's death saddened her because she had truly liked Sloane's wife and Sydney often wondered how she ever got stuck with a monster like Sloane. Fighting back a fresh onslaught of tears, she went to her desk and sat down. Across from her, Dixon was sitting back in his seat.
"You heard about Emily," he said kindly. "I'm sorry. I know you were close to her."
"Yeah," Sydney said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "I wish I could have gone to a funeral to say good-bye, but Sloane didn't have one."
"I see."
Sydney shuffled papers on her desk and Dixon picked up a report he was reading.
"Dixon, the man you saw me with last night, he's CIA," Sydney said, not looking at him.
She heard him put the report down, refusing to meet his eyes.
"What?" he demanded, an edge to his voice.
"He's a CIA agent."
"Jesus," her partner sighed. "What possessed you to date a CIA agent? Sloane knows, doesn't he? That's why you were in there."
"Yes."
"What does he have to say about all this."
"He gave me his blessing."
Dixon blinked. "You're joking."
"No."
"He must have taken a leave of his senses. Do you know how many ways we can be penetrated simply by you dating a CIA agent?"
"Yes," Sydney muttered, getting tired of this conversation. "I also know that I want to keep seeing him. The last man I was with was Danny and I...I'm lonely, Dixon."
Although he looked sympathetic, Sydney could tell Dixon was none too happy about this turn of events.
"Just trust me, please," she said.
Trust. She could see the word rang in Dixon's head and belatedly, she remembered how shaky his trust for her was.
"Okay," he said cautiously. "Just be careful, alright? He looked like a nice guy, Syd, and I'm just afraid that things might go beyond your control."
She reached across her desk and patted his hand. "I'll be fine. Don't worry."
* * *
Jack felt like his head was going to split open right in the middle, that was how bad his headache was. After hearing about Sydney taking Vaughn out the night before, it started to hurt right at his temples. Then, learning that Dixon had seen them, the pain had moved behind his eyes. When he figured out on his own that Sloane would find out, it just exploded until he was afraid he would black out and seeing Sydney emerge from their boss' office nearly made him lose it.
But Jack Bristow was one of the best in his field and he kept his cool. As Sloane discussed new intelligence reports they had just received, he listened intently, though a part of his mind continued examining Sydney's situation. Still, his anger at his daughter for being so careless was making him clench his fists until his knuckles turned white. He made it a point not to keep on glancing at his watch every second, but like clockwork, he checked in thirty minute increments. Finally, noon rolled around and he got up from his chair, leaving reports that he hardly read, to find Sydney.
She was already standing when he saw her, her purse slung on one shoulder. Not saying anything, Jack took her elbow and lead her to the elevator. She tensed under his grip, but kept her mouth shut, though her eyes were shooting darts at him. They walked to his car and got in.
Sydney waited for her father to say something, but he stayed obstinately silent. He kept his eyes on the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. She could see a vein pulsing in his temple and hoped they were going somewhere public so that he didn't dress her down. Her own temper flared up.
By the time they reached Sara's Deli, they were both breathing harshly and barely looking at each other. They sat down and glared for a few moments before the server arrived to take their order. When he was out of an earshot, Jack finally spoke.
"Have you lost your mind?" he hissed, leaning forward, lessening the space between them.
"Dad, I know," she returned between gritted teeth. "I know the consequences and I know what could happen."
"You know, but you don't understand."
"I do."
"Then why are we sitting here talking about this?"
"Because...I need him," she confessed at a moment of weakness. She wanted someone to understand, anyone.
Jack sat back, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You don't need anybody, Sydney. You can want them, you can love them, but you don't ever need anybody."
"That's not true."
"In this line of work, you have to make it true. How many times do you have to hear this lecture before you get it? You can't have this relationship with Michael Vaughn. It can only lead to..."
"I know!" Sydney said, her voice loud enough so that people around them glanced their way. Self-conscious, she slouched in her seat and regarded her father much like a petulant child. "I've heard this spiel from Weiss, Dixon, and Sloane. I can hardly let a minute go by without thinking about what can happen if this doesn't turn out like it should. I know, Dad, and believe me, I'm not going to forget. Berating me now isn't going to help either."
That seemed to have pacified him for the moment. Jack took a sip of his coffee.
"Have you seen your friend, Mr. Tippin?" he asked conversationally as if they hadn't just been arguing.
Sydney groaned, closing her eyes and putting a hand to her forehead. "I can't believe it...I actually forgot about him. How is he doing?"
"He's scratching at the walls to get out. The last couple days, he's been driving his agents nuts asking for you."
A muscle in Sydney's jaw worked. "I'll go see him today."
"No, you can't."
"What?"
"Sloane is going to have you followed closely for however long you keep up this charade with Mr. Vaughn and a long time after that. You can't risk it."
"What do I do about Weiss? I don't want to drag him into this, too. Can you get word to him to not set up face-to-face meetings with me? I think we should start exchanging messages through another medium."
Jack nodded, warming to the idea. "Not e-mail, nothing that can leave a trail."
"I think I'll be picking up a lot of garbage in my future."
Their lunch came and Sydney realized she was starving. She hadn't been able to eat breakfast that morning.
"This won't end happily," Jack said, a gentleness in his voice that she hadn't heard before. "It will only get harder, Sydney."
"As long as SD-6 exists, nothing will ever be easy, Dad."
