A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed! I really appreciate it. Now,
the twist starting a little bit but the bulk of it is in the next chapter!
And just remember, nothing is like it seems in the world of aLiAs!
They reached the door but Sydney quickly broke away from Vaughn's grasp. "My bag, my gun, and our colored contacts." She tore away from him, ripping away from. She really didn't want to but she needed to. Their characters weren't quite complete. He stood in the doorway, watching her with intent green eyes. She was thinking something and he couldn't exactly figure what she was thinking or doing. He tried very hard not to laugh at the new side of Sydney. He was used to the Sydney that memorized his cell number in maybe thirty seconds, if that, the Sydney that could take down 200 pound men in three inch heels and a mini-skirt but this was a frazzled Sydney, hopelessly trying to find what she was looking for. "Bag, gun, contacts." She repeated again and bent over the suitcase. It was now partially collapsed black fabric and piles upon piles of high class fashions folded over and through each other. It was a mess. She rummaged through it, piling new things on the bed until she came to a fresh pair of green contacts, in their once-a-day case. She tossed Vaughn his box and took hers in her hands. She reached forward and place the box on the long dresser. She stood up and quickly set off to mask her eyes. Portia was her alter-ego. She was passionate, fun loving, and knew how to get what she wanted. Well, Portia was Sydney or vice versa. She knew what she wanted and all she needed to do was go after it. Her hands opened the packaging, tossing the cardboard into the garbage and leaned forward towards the mirror. She quickly applied her green eyes, taking a moment to breath in her new character. It was a magical moment for her when she became someone else and took her last breath as her. Sydney held her breath as Portia let hers out. Her face was still blotchy with tears and dark circles were beginning to show underneath her eyes. Her lack of sleep and food was catching up with her body. She would have to use a little concealer to fix that. No problem. She and Vaughn would go downstairs, as husband and wife and have lunch or breakfast or whatever time it was and talk. No big deal. She turned away from the mirror, someone new but with the same smile. Her newly applied green eyes rested on Vaughn as he made his way into the room to grab his gun and his cell phone, which laid in a smaller black bag right outside the bathroom door. He had bent over slightly to grab the gun and cell and place them in their appropriate pocket. His athletic body stood up and glanced around the hotel room, double checking in his mind that he now had everything.
She sniffled slightly and let her green eyes dance around him. Finally, they rested on his and it was a familiar warming feeling that filled her body. She got the chills and went into a sweat whenever Vaughn looked at her. She had to repress a horribly goofy smile that she got whenever he would wrinkle his brow or say her name. It rolled off his tongue so seductively and he never said it often enough. She smiled sweetly as she thought of him saying her name, Sydney or Syd or Moutineer or whatever she was called these days. She always wanted to scream, 'just say my name and take me now!' or 'I'm yours! Do what you wish!'
He cleared his throat, feeling the presence of her eyes on his body. "What made you think of that?" He asked genuinely. "I would love to know what you're thinking sometimes." He normally could read her thoughts or at least guess pretty close to where she was going with something. He ran his hands over the box as he watched her for a split second.
"You think you know, but you have no idea." She tilted her head to the side a little, showing a hint of weakness almost and crossed her arms. Now, that could be taken a number of ways. She had almost wished that it was taken literal but knowing too many men in her lifetime, it would get twisted around in his mind. But maybe, Vaughn wasn't like those other men who only thought of which girl he could score with by weekend or how many drinks he could consume in two hours. No, Vaughn was too down to earth and dedicated for that. When they had gone out, he had only had two glasses..right? Maybe there were more. She had a few too and after a while, a couple of details got a little fuzzy.
"You watch MTV?" Vaughn laughed as he ducked into the bathroom and started to apply his contacts. "You have time?"
She laughed and made her way towards the bathroom to see Vaughn bent over backwards, not allowing his eyes to accept the brown disks. He started to swear every time the disk slipped from his fingertips. "I never have time but hey, I used to." Vaughn grunted a reply and continued to make his attempt. "Do you?"
"Yeah, until I met you." He let it slip as he tried furiously to get his eyes back into place.
That was a weird thing to say. He gave up a normal life just to protect her. She "What does that mean?" She stood up straight and got defensive.
She had completely taken that completely wrong. He liked working those extra hours. It had allowed him to meet the most amazing girl in the world. He wouldn't trade all that work for all the money in the world or all the time in the world. He tried to brush her comment off, "I just work more since I became your handler."
Pure dread. She took away a normal life for him. "Yeah, cause I call you at unG-dly hours! I really am sor-"
"You only did that once and I'm sure as hell not complaining." I'm in love with and want you, right here, right now. "I'm not an MTV fan."
"Oh." She was entirely satisfied with this answer but didn't care. She was having to good of a time watching him suffer of these contacts. "Are you having a problem with those or something?"
"Why does Peter have to have brown eyes?" He groaned aloud.
"Because Portia has green and if you have green eyes then we'll look like brother and sister not husband and wife. And quite frankly, I don't think we would do well as brother and sister." She looked at him, blinking her eyes, attempting to be seductive.
Well, it worked and Vaughn cleared his throat, trying to rid the images of him and her together from his mind. He straightened up and sighed. "They could have given you blue."
"Since when do you complain? I'll admit it, a few hours sleep and everything just sets you off." Sydney leaned deeper into the door jam and smiled. She was joking but it was true. He was always honest with her and never said anything going wrong in his life.
Vaughn groaned again and turned towards the mirror like a three year old dreading the dentist. He grumbled and moaned as his fingers fumbled with his contacts. Finally, after much ado about nothing, he had brown eyes. "It's about freaking time!" He declared into the mirror. This sent Sydney into a burst of hysterics. It was a long time since she laughed and it was a good feeling over her bones. "Now, are you ready to go?"
She caught her breath and stumbled from the room to grab her black bag, the same from yesterday. It was placed next to her suitcase. "Do you have your ring on?" She cried a little louder.
"Never took it off. You have yours right?"
"Never took it off." Sydney threw her bag over her shoulder and walked towards the door. "I fell asleep with it on." She ran her hand, subconsciously, underneath her eyes and wiped away any tears that could have fallen or any make-up smudged. Her chest swelled with a deep inhalation and collapsed back down again with its exhale.
"Are you okay?" Vaughn asked, finishing up in the bathroom. He had always liked his hair done in the morning even though by lunch it was always a mess from running his fingers through it. He was in a hotel room with Sydney Bristow, it finally hit him. How many endless nights did he dream about an op like this? He was allowed to show affection for her and maybe, she could show something back. He met her outside of the bathroom door and wrapped his arm around her slender waist.
"I will be." His touch was warm and tingled her body. His touch was additive and as his hand rested over her hip, a list was quickly made in her head with questions she had been dying to ask him since they met. With each step, another question was added. They walked out the door and closed it tightly behind them. Vaughn double checked the door, removing one hand from her body but promptly return it to its place. He wanted to ask her what she was thinking but he figured that it would be a questioned served over breakfast, whatever that might be. There was no conversation made between them. Both of them needed to think of what they wanted to say. The perfect looking couple made their way down the hallway, with gold and sage carpeting with matching faux painted walls. Everything was gilded and glowed from the yellow lights against the walls. There was a perfect glow that showed each of their features. The light shined over her eyes and the accents of her face and on him, the wonderful cleft in his chin and that dimple that only showed when he was happy. Things were too perfect. Perfect. The gilded elevator was next and they were alone. She pulled herself closer into him, resting her head on his shoulder. He opened his mouth to say something be promptly decided against it. Her emotions were like a roller coaster no one wanted to ride. He didn't force her close but just awkwardly patted her back and made one soft soothing sound.
He cleared his throat, "The dream again?"
She stood up straight and pretended like nothing had just happened. "Just making sure you're here." Liar. She wanted to smell him, make a scent memory into her head, what Michael Vaughn smelt like after waking up. That would be tucked into a good place and revealed when she was awfully depressed, a characteristic that she had been feeling much too much of lately.
They made their way downstairs, her wrapped in his arms the entire way. They looked like they belonged together and allowed themselves to act on the feelings they had kept held and bottled for such a long time. His skin lit hers afire and she enjoyed getting burned. They walked past the front desk and suddenly, Sydney remembered what her father had said. "My mom is sending us something. I'm gonna check the desk." She whispered into his shoulder.
"Oh, okay." Vaughn replied quietly, not wanted to let go of her for a moment. His arms fastened tighter as they approached the heavy set man at the counter. Sydney stepped in front of him a little and he felt an unforeseen rush of pride for her. She wasn't just his asset or his agent. She made life start living and she had cleared the highest hurdles and killed the most disgusting demons. She was Super Woman.
"Yes, hello. Is there a package for Mr. or Mrs. DeMarco?" Sydney leaned her elbows across the counter as the man eyed her. Vaughn allowed his attention to wander slightly, turning his body away from Sydney.
"Mr. and Mrs. DeMarco?" The man had a heavy Spanish accent.
"Yes." Sydney was so good at her part. The accent, the clothes, she nailed it all. Vaughn walked closer towards her and wrapped his hands around Sydney's thin waist. He had to control himself not to kiss the small patch of skin that was screaming for his lips to touch. He was a romantic and loved small ways of showing public affection. He managed to bite his tongue to resist the urge. "A package arrived for you and your husband an hour ago." The man quickly produced a small package, about the size of a standard notebook. "I was told to give it to you the moment I saw you. The man who dropped it off said it was urgent. It was a good thing you came up to this. Very, very good."
Vaughn took the package in his hands, releasing his grasp on Sydney. He turned it over in his hands before he extended his gratitude to the man. It was a small package, the size of an average high school textbook but considerably lighter. He started to walk towards the café, Sydney followed closely behind. It was elegantly called, "The Celestial." Everything was done in blues, golds, and silvers that caught the Spanish light from large windows that overlooked a river below them. "You're most secluded table, please?" Vaughn as the greeter, dressed in a long black dress with a white flower tied around her neck.
"Of course." She murmured in Spanish. She walked through the rows of tables, filled with people chattering in different languages. Sydney's eyes were caught by one man who looked up at her and had that recognizing look in his eye. She opened her mouth to tell Vaughn to look but looked away. This was just a man looking at an attractive girl. That was something new, a foreign man checking her out. Please note sarcasm. They continued across the restaurant that seemed so much larger than it looked. Their feet were muffled by a tan carpet that was still plush, probably new.
Finally, they reached an area, cornered off by Spanish screens. There were three other tables pushed against the kitchen wall and the rest of the restaurant was invisible from the table. Sydney and Vaughn were placed at a table that was cornered off almost completely. There was a wall on the back and left side, the screen was pressed flush against the front chair and the right side was exposed. The screen was large and completely concealed the table. Sydney sat down first and leaned forward on her elbows. She watched Vaughn melt into his seat, his eyes were wide and focused on the package. Sydney leaned over and found her cell phone with a bug killer on it. Vaughn set the package in the center of the table and leaned back into his chair. His eyes darted back and forth between Sydney and the package, her eyes did the same.
"What do you want to do first?" Vaughn finally asked, his heart pounding so quickly in his chest he kept waiting for it to expel onto the yellow linens in front of him
"I need to talk." She whispered, leaning deeper into her forearms.
"Let's talk about whatever you want to talk about." He leaned in close and matched her tone. His breath stopped waiting to hear her reply. He was suddenly aware of heartbeat, every movement, every dust particle.
She bit her lip and a little and lost eye contact with him. Her eyes memorized every inch of the crystal water glass in front of him. She suppressed the tears with gasp and tried to talk, "You know about the dreams."
He nodded his head solemnly. "Do you want to talk about them?"
She looked at him and gave him a blank stare as the words tripped and flowed out of her mouth, "I've seen your death in my mind so many times since Tai Pai. I cried myself to sleep every night you were missing and woke up crying. You have no idea how worried I was. I've never felt that fear before." She finally brought her tearful eyes up to his and tried to watch for his reaction. He tipped his head down and started to speak softly.
He didn't like to look at her when she was like that. She was so vulnerable and sometimes it was easier to talk to his shoes. Now, he spoke to the table cloth, "Every time you're out on a mission, I don't sleep. There have been nights that I've slept with my cell on my chest-" His soul was splashing out of his mouth.
"Please don't go on. My mom said-" She immediately stopped his fountain with a raised hand. Her eyebrows knit together like a careful net and new worry lines formed on her forehead.
"Your mother?" His lines went up as soon as Irinia was mentioned.
"But in the last week or so, these dreams have been getting worse." Sydney continued on her thought train. "And I can't help but think..but think if I lost you." The tears were coming back now, "I don't you at all."
He didn't know what to say. He didn't know why and he didn't know how. Sydney Bristow wasn't suppose to be like this. He let his arms out and held onto both of her hands tightly. She needed to be coddled right now, whether she would accept it or not.
"I don't know you. I work with you everyday and I don't know you. Tell me everything about you." She said looking at him with the purest eyes. She licked her lips, dry from her heavy breathing that had started when she had accidentally let it slip about her mother.almost letting it slip about how Irinia knew how Vaughn felt about her and had told her indirectly. It was so confusing.
His brow wrinkled with surprise and he started to trip and fall over his words. "What-uh-and I um, what do you want to ya know? What-do you."
"I want you to start at the beginning and tell me something I can't find in your profile."
"Well.."
"Your first girlfriend."
"Oh." He drew quiet as he thought about Marie La Champ. "She was French and smart and funny and ugly as sin. I was twelve and she was thirteen. She was my next door neighbor and we played every Sunday after Church. One day, we were playing catch and she just ran towards me, knocked me over, and kissed me. She told me that I was her boyfriend. My reply? Don't hurt me."
Sydney smiled and laughed a little. She watched him seriously and was about to say something that would run along the lines of confessing her feelings but the damn waitress came and asked to take their order.
"Grapefruit and some coffee." Sydney ordered simply, raising her eyebrows letting him know it was his turn.
"Scrambled eggs, whole wheat toast and coffee." He took both menus into his hands and handed them to the waitress. As soon as she left, Vaughn smiled, "Grapefruit? That's not breakfast, that's a snack."
"It is a breakfast!" Sydney insisted, blinking away renegade tears. She shot him one of those 'take me seriously, damn it!' looks which made him instantly smile.
He could read her like a book, "There's something about grapefruit. Some story." His mouth parted in a wondering smile. "Get on with it."
It was her turn at the game of truth. "A funny story." Her cheeks began to glow a vibrant shade of pink.
"Then let's here it!" Vaughn replied, smiling. His favorite color was the blush on her cheek. It was a rose pink that glowed only in selective lighting. He wanted to touch her cheeks and feel the burning sensation beneath his dull finger tips.
Horrible and embarrassing flashbacks flooded her memory, causing her brow to wrinkle, in a good way, and her hand to cover her face, trying to shelter herself from the discomfiture she was facing. "Oh, I can't believe I even thought of that!"
Now he was truly interested. She was embarrassed of something and now, he was dying to hear what it was. "Come, on! Tell me!"
"Oh! Okay, okay. Promise not to laugh?"
"Scout's honor!" He lifted his left hand.
"Wrong hand!" She exclaimed.
"Oh, right sorry." He smiled broadly and switched his hand. His green eyes shone with such excitement that he was about to have a heart attack in anticipation. "So?"
"Fine. When I was in 3rd grade, I took French. The teacher was a real SOB and hated me. One day, I came into class late and she asked me a question in French. I thought she asked me what was my favorite fruit was but it was really what my nickname was." Vaughn started to snicker slightly, "I was 8, gimme a break. So, I replied pamplemoose."
"Grapefruit. You said grapefruit." His laughs were becoming contagious, catching into her speech.
Sydney began to giggle girlishly. "And from day I was known as Pamplemoose Bristow in that class."
Vaughn was beyond hysterics at that point. "Qu'est-ce c'est ton prenom is not qu'est-ce que ton favorite fruit." He managed to squeak in between fits of hysteria.
"Will you please keep it down? It's bad enough that during fourth grade I was known as Moose! I grew out of that nickname, thank goodness but I was scarred! No mother or technically father and a nanny, who bought into it! She called me Moosie until my high school graduation!" She hissed. She was way, way beyond mortified at this point. Her best friend and possible love interest was going to die from lack of oxygen from laughing. "You know, I'm going to put on your tombstone 'died laughing' if you don't quit it! Didn't your mother ever teach not to laugh at girls?" She hissed as he leaned over the table, still laughing. "I'm changing the subject!"
"Fine. Fine!" Vaughn cried for mercy. Tears of pure joy began to exorcise from his green eyes.
She laughed harder and tried to catch her breath after few minutes. She settled with excited gasp that left smiling lips. When was the last time she thought so deep into her past? She let her body grow serious and starred at the package, forgotten in the story. "Let's open the package from my mother."
Boy, if you ever want to see a man snap out of a laughing fit, there's the way to do it. He grew white out of panic and his brown eyes got as wide as saucers. Cotton mouth set in extraordinarily fast. He frantically tried to talk but his tongue wouldn't move, instead he nodded a pathetic little nod. He reached towards the package and careful tore it open with his knife. The brown packing material opened to reveal a white box. He open that and revealed two envelopes and a walkman with a tape deck. One envelope read, "READ FIRST" in bold lettering. Vaughn took it in his hands and read it aloud, shaking and a soft voice, "Please read and hear these separately. Give Bristow the tape and Vaughn the sealed letter." He read aloud.
"I don't think that's necessary." Sydney replied hastily, she opened her palm and waited for Vaughn to place the tape player in her hand. He did and without hesitation, she placed the headphones and hit play. Everything else was a blur. She heard her mother's velvet voice fill her mind. Even in the state she was in, Sydney could hear the tears in her voice when she said certain lines, "We became so close. I talked about you constantly and he spoke of his little boy, who was around eight. He spoke of love almost daily, love for his wife Nanette, his son who always remained nameless and his country. He had the most love for the CIA. Almost more than you or your handler or your father. But William was gorgeous in ways only you would understand. He and his father are identical.. William told the guards that he would be the one who would die..'Never say you killed me. Never regret this decision. I die for my country and I die for my son and your daughter.. It was the worst moment of my life. Almost as bad as faking my death or leaving you. Sydney, I was in love with him. Please, forgive. Please. I love you. I love you." The tape deck stopped spinning. Tears had flooded Sydney's face as she looked, absolutely horrified at Vaughn. She didn't know what to think first..how William had died or that her mother was in love with him or that her mother knew that Vaughn had feelings for her or what. She didn't know what to say. She muffled her sobs with her hands, trying to get her emotions back in check but there was no going back anymore. She had crossed a line somewhere. It was impossible to take in. That her mother had compared herself to her and that William was like Vaughn but.
"Sydney, what is it?" Vaughn hadn't read his letter yet. He was too busy watching her reaction. "Syd, you're scaring me. Is something wrong? Give me the tape!" His voice was hushed as he called her by her true name. His heart stopped for a moment, letting the fear overcome his body. He started to go into panic mode.
"Read your letter." She said clearly, shutting her systems down. She removed the headphones and starred at him. How could this be happening? How could her mother kill someone she loved? She could never kill Vaughn, she would die herself first. His death was too painful for her and she was positive, that if he ever did die, she would go within the week from a broken heart. Love changes everything, including a girl's view on death. She was in love with him. Sydney Eleanor Bristow was in love, love with Michael Christopher Vaughn.
He didn't know what exactly was going but he picked up his letter, sealed in a white virgin envelope and started to read:
Dear Mr. Vaughn,
I know you don't have the highest opinion of me and I can't say that I blame you. If I were in your position, I would hate me. I need you to be alone when you're reading this. This is going to be powerful and you're going to hate every word of it. I hate writing it but please, you need to finish it. I've never admitted half of these things aloud and there going to very difficult for you to read. Please keep that in mind. There are so many things that I need to tell you and I don't know where to start. Let me start with something you can control. I know how you feel about my daughter and before I go any further I think you should go ahead and make your move. If you have a fear of her not feeling the same way, she feels the same way. I must keep this short. I want to tell you to circumstances that led to your father's death. We were on separate mission in Pakistan and somehow or another, we ended up in the same general vicinity. At this point, you were barely two and I had received word to go and collect a document from a building in Pakistan. Apparently, I was the only one they trusted with this. I left on my vacation, leaving you in your father's care as I went off. The mission went off without any mistakes. I entered the library of the building I was in and encountered him. He was looking for a different document and had no knowledge I was going to be there. We barely had time to do anything but look at each other because guards came into both doors, one on each end of the narrow hallway and before I could turn, I was shot with a tranq dart in my hip. They had seen me enter. William suffered a similar fate. We were bound, gagged and transported to that prison. We were put in the same cell and assumed that we were partners. From that moment on for about three weeks, we spent every moment with each other. We ate whatever food they gave us together, slept across from one another and were tortured together. We became so close. I talked about you constantly and he spoke of his little boy, who was around eight. He spoke of love almost daily, love for his wife Nanette, his son who always remained nameless and his country. He had the most love for the CIA. You and your father are identical in more than one way. I'm so sorry to say this but somewhere along the line I developed feelings for him. I'll never know if he felt the same way but the guards picked up on my attraction to him. It was nothing more that a girlish crush. We tried to escape so many times, through the sewers, the mine field, everything you could possibly think of but we were always captured and horrifically tortured. One day, February 23, we were taken out of our cell and back into the torture room. They tortured us for hours until I was slipping in and out of consciousness from lose of blood. I was much worse off than he was. They didn't mind him as much as they hated a female spy. After the torture was finished, William was brought closer to me, I was strapped to a bed. His green eyes were so friendly and understanding. They were your green eyes at their purest. We were given a choice. They would kill us both, using the slow methods they were using or if one of us was the kill the other, they would let the other go and receive full medical attention I barely opened my mouth when William told the guards that he would be the one who died. I cried and screamed refuting him but he was solid and said that I had a baby girl to worry about. I remember screaming about his little boy and he said, I'll never forget it, he said that his son was destined to take on his work. He was going to be a CIA because of his death. I cried so. My confidant would die by my hand. I was un strapped, still bleeding horribly. I was handed a gun and William stood across from me. There were three guards on me, one with a gun to my head, one to my back, one to my abdomen and on William, there was a guard holding a gun to his back. There, they told me to pull the trigger. William told me something I was supposed to tell his son and my daughter. I practically tattooed it to my body. It was, 'Never say you killed me. Never regret this decision. I die for my country and I die for my son and your daughter.' I honestly don't know whether this makes the situation that much better or worse. I pulled the trigger and everything went black. I woke in a hospital, in the states. I never knew if he had died or if I, by some miracle missed. It wasn't until years later that I found out I had and that they had mutilated his body. It was the worst moment of my life. Almost as bad as faking my death or leaving Sydney. I don't expect you to forgive me but the only thing I ask of you is to not hold this against my daughter. She is in love with you and would do anything for you. I learned that the night in Tai Pei and then again through your little interactions. The antidote is a prime example. So, please Mr. Vaughn, destroy this letter when you are finished but don't destroy what you and my daughter have.
Irinia Derveko.
Vaughn set the letter down and he looked at Sydney with a matching expression of dread, sorrow and disbelief. He was overcome by emotion and wanted to die at that moment. He was now visibly shaking and couldn't even open his mouth to speak properly. His mouth kept dropping open and returning back.
Sydney returned the frightened gaze and got to her feet suddenly. "We need to get out of here-now." She grabbed any remains of the packaging and threw them into her bag. She tossed every article into her bag and threw some money on the table. She wasn't sure how much it was, just enough to cover the food probably. She reached for Vaughn's hand and pulled him past all of the people, giving them gaping looks and showing remorse on their face as the crying couple ran past. He wasn't even crying, he just starred like Francie did off. He had finally learned how his father died. It was the most horrific thing in the world. He couldn't form sentences let alone words. They just wouldn't come and didn't want to. He needed to be alone and just sort things out in his mind.
They made their way back up to their hotel room. Things started to blur together and the next thing she could clearly see was sliding the hotel room key into the door and walking in. Vaughn was in a deep state of shock and only moved when encouraged. She walked into the door and hoped he would follow. Sadly enough, he didn't. She walked back towards him, wrapped her arms around his middle and coaxed him towards the bed, where he sat down at the edge and she kneeled at his feet, taking his hands tightly in hers. "Vaughn, talk to me. You're scaring me. Say something, anything." She pleaded through her own tears.
Tears flowed freely from his face. "Why did my mother know the story?" He asked finally. He pulled his hands away from Sydney's grasp and covered his face. "Why did my mother know that story?"
Sydney got to her feet, shocked at his initial reaction. She stepped up towards him and let him sink his head into her stomach, where she ran her hand over his head and back. "We'll work it out. We'll work it out. You're just stunned. Relax. Relax."
They stayed like that for a long time and soon, they both ran out of tears. Vaughn pulled away from Sydney and stood up. The shock was suddenly erased from his eyes and replaced with anger. "I need to be alone." He walked sternly out to the balcony, sat down and locked it tightly behind him. There was a white rod iron chair out there and he collapsed into it, and gazed out into the pool below, full of laughing screaming children. He just shook violently and tried to block out any thoughts. Sydney's mother had fallen in love with his father and he was killed because of that love. What would happen if he fell in love with Sydney and then she followed in her mother's footsteps. Wait a minute, he was in love with Sydney. That's what made him so upset. That their love was doomed like the love between his father and Irinia was doomed but wait! He was married to his mother and he was eight! William couldn't fall in love with someone else! His father was almost having an affair! He wanted to put his fist through the wall so badly or do something radical. Instead, he just sat there, wallowing in his own self-pity. It had swallowed him whole and threw him into the lava pit. He was destined to be consumed like his father had been. He was destined to follow in his father's footsteps and that included being killed by his love. Maybe he would do it first, get it over with. But first, he need to let his love know, do something about it and then end the cycle. He started to make a plan in his head, how he would do it. The cycle would end now. He would force it to end. His thoughts drifted back towards Sydney. She had curled up on the floor and just starred at him with the most desperate look of longing on her face. He knew that she wanted to comfort him and erase all of this but it was impossible. He needed to be alone, couldn't go near her for a moment. It wasn't her fault that her mother did this but when adrenaline is running that high, you think stupid things. Somewhere along the lines, his chest stopped pounding and he was calm. Sydney would survive this and go on, with a new handler and take down SD-6, without him. She wouldn't die of a broken heart, she was too tough for that. Was this going to be suicide? No, it was ending a cycle that would destroy him and Sydney. He sat out there for hours, until his head finally cleared. He had a plan that would make this end by the midnight that night.
TBC!!!
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They reached the door but Sydney quickly broke away from Vaughn's grasp. "My bag, my gun, and our colored contacts." She tore away from him, ripping away from. She really didn't want to but she needed to. Their characters weren't quite complete. He stood in the doorway, watching her with intent green eyes. She was thinking something and he couldn't exactly figure what she was thinking or doing. He tried very hard not to laugh at the new side of Sydney. He was used to the Sydney that memorized his cell number in maybe thirty seconds, if that, the Sydney that could take down 200 pound men in three inch heels and a mini-skirt but this was a frazzled Sydney, hopelessly trying to find what she was looking for. "Bag, gun, contacts." She repeated again and bent over the suitcase. It was now partially collapsed black fabric and piles upon piles of high class fashions folded over and through each other. It was a mess. She rummaged through it, piling new things on the bed until she came to a fresh pair of green contacts, in their once-a-day case. She tossed Vaughn his box and took hers in her hands. She reached forward and place the box on the long dresser. She stood up and quickly set off to mask her eyes. Portia was her alter-ego. She was passionate, fun loving, and knew how to get what she wanted. Well, Portia was Sydney or vice versa. She knew what she wanted and all she needed to do was go after it. Her hands opened the packaging, tossing the cardboard into the garbage and leaned forward towards the mirror. She quickly applied her green eyes, taking a moment to breath in her new character. It was a magical moment for her when she became someone else and took her last breath as her. Sydney held her breath as Portia let hers out. Her face was still blotchy with tears and dark circles were beginning to show underneath her eyes. Her lack of sleep and food was catching up with her body. She would have to use a little concealer to fix that. No problem. She and Vaughn would go downstairs, as husband and wife and have lunch or breakfast or whatever time it was and talk. No big deal. She turned away from the mirror, someone new but with the same smile. Her newly applied green eyes rested on Vaughn as he made his way into the room to grab his gun and his cell phone, which laid in a smaller black bag right outside the bathroom door. He had bent over slightly to grab the gun and cell and place them in their appropriate pocket. His athletic body stood up and glanced around the hotel room, double checking in his mind that he now had everything.
She sniffled slightly and let her green eyes dance around him. Finally, they rested on his and it was a familiar warming feeling that filled her body. She got the chills and went into a sweat whenever Vaughn looked at her. She had to repress a horribly goofy smile that she got whenever he would wrinkle his brow or say her name. It rolled off his tongue so seductively and he never said it often enough. She smiled sweetly as she thought of him saying her name, Sydney or Syd or Moutineer or whatever she was called these days. She always wanted to scream, 'just say my name and take me now!' or 'I'm yours! Do what you wish!'
He cleared his throat, feeling the presence of her eyes on his body. "What made you think of that?" He asked genuinely. "I would love to know what you're thinking sometimes." He normally could read her thoughts or at least guess pretty close to where she was going with something. He ran his hands over the box as he watched her for a split second.
"You think you know, but you have no idea." She tilted her head to the side a little, showing a hint of weakness almost and crossed her arms. Now, that could be taken a number of ways. She had almost wished that it was taken literal but knowing too many men in her lifetime, it would get twisted around in his mind. But maybe, Vaughn wasn't like those other men who only thought of which girl he could score with by weekend or how many drinks he could consume in two hours. No, Vaughn was too down to earth and dedicated for that. When they had gone out, he had only had two glasses..right? Maybe there were more. She had a few too and after a while, a couple of details got a little fuzzy.
"You watch MTV?" Vaughn laughed as he ducked into the bathroom and started to apply his contacts. "You have time?"
She laughed and made her way towards the bathroom to see Vaughn bent over backwards, not allowing his eyes to accept the brown disks. He started to swear every time the disk slipped from his fingertips. "I never have time but hey, I used to." Vaughn grunted a reply and continued to make his attempt. "Do you?"
"Yeah, until I met you." He let it slip as he tried furiously to get his eyes back into place.
That was a weird thing to say. He gave up a normal life just to protect her. She "What does that mean?" She stood up straight and got defensive.
She had completely taken that completely wrong. He liked working those extra hours. It had allowed him to meet the most amazing girl in the world. He wouldn't trade all that work for all the money in the world or all the time in the world. He tried to brush her comment off, "I just work more since I became your handler."
Pure dread. She took away a normal life for him. "Yeah, cause I call you at unG-dly hours! I really am sor-"
"You only did that once and I'm sure as hell not complaining." I'm in love with and want you, right here, right now. "I'm not an MTV fan."
"Oh." She was entirely satisfied with this answer but didn't care. She was having to good of a time watching him suffer of these contacts. "Are you having a problem with those or something?"
"Why does Peter have to have brown eyes?" He groaned aloud.
"Because Portia has green and if you have green eyes then we'll look like brother and sister not husband and wife. And quite frankly, I don't think we would do well as brother and sister." She looked at him, blinking her eyes, attempting to be seductive.
Well, it worked and Vaughn cleared his throat, trying to rid the images of him and her together from his mind. He straightened up and sighed. "They could have given you blue."
"Since when do you complain? I'll admit it, a few hours sleep and everything just sets you off." Sydney leaned deeper into the door jam and smiled. She was joking but it was true. He was always honest with her and never said anything going wrong in his life.
Vaughn groaned again and turned towards the mirror like a three year old dreading the dentist. He grumbled and moaned as his fingers fumbled with his contacts. Finally, after much ado about nothing, he had brown eyes. "It's about freaking time!" He declared into the mirror. This sent Sydney into a burst of hysterics. It was a long time since she laughed and it was a good feeling over her bones. "Now, are you ready to go?"
She caught her breath and stumbled from the room to grab her black bag, the same from yesterday. It was placed next to her suitcase. "Do you have your ring on?" She cried a little louder.
"Never took it off. You have yours right?"
"Never took it off." Sydney threw her bag over her shoulder and walked towards the door. "I fell asleep with it on." She ran her hand, subconsciously, underneath her eyes and wiped away any tears that could have fallen or any make-up smudged. Her chest swelled with a deep inhalation and collapsed back down again with its exhale.
"Are you okay?" Vaughn asked, finishing up in the bathroom. He had always liked his hair done in the morning even though by lunch it was always a mess from running his fingers through it. He was in a hotel room with Sydney Bristow, it finally hit him. How many endless nights did he dream about an op like this? He was allowed to show affection for her and maybe, she could show something back. He met her outside of the bathroom door and wrapped his arm around her slender waist.
"I will be." His touch was warm and tingled her body. His touch was additive and as his hand rested over her hip, a list was quickly made in her head with questions she had been dying to ask him since they met. With each step, another question was added. They walked out the door and closed it tightly behind them. Vaughn double checked the door, removing one hand from her body but promptly return it to its place. He wanted to ask her what she was thinking but he figured that it would be a questioned served over breakfast, whatever that might be. There was no conversation made between them. Both of them needed to think of what they wanted to say. The perfect looking couple made their way down the hallway, with gold and sage carpeting with matching faux painted walls. Everything was gilded and glowed from the yellow lights against the walls. There was a perfect glow that showed each of their features. The light shined over her eyes and the accents of her face and on him, the wonderful cleft in his chin and that dimple that only showed when he was happy. Things were too perfect. Perfect. The gilded elevator was next and they were alone. She pulled herself closer into him, resting her head on his shoulder. He opened his mouth to say something be promptly decided against it. Her emotions were like a roller coaster no one wanted to ride. He didn't force her close but just awkwardly patted her back and made one soft soothing sound.
He cleared his throat, "The dream again?"
She stood up straight and pretended like nothing had just happened. "Just making sure you're here." Liar. She wanted to smell him, make a scent memory into her head, what Michael Vaughn smelt like after waking up. That would be tucked into a good place and revealed when she was awfully depressed, a characteristic that she had been feeling much too much of lately.
They made their way downstairs, her wrapped in his arms the entire way. They looked like they belonged together and allowed themselves to act on the feelings they had kept held and bottled for such a long time. His skin lit hers afire and she enjoyed getting burned. They walked past the front desk and suddenly, Sydney remembered what her father had said. "My mom is sending us something. I'm gonna check the desk." She whispered into his shoulder.
"Oh, okay." Vaughn replied quietly, not wanted to let go of her for a moment. His arms fastened tighter as they approached the heavy set man at the counter. Sydney stepped in front of him a little and he felt an unforeseen rush of pride for her. She wasn't just his asset or his agent. She made life start living and she had cleared the highest hurdles and killed the most disgusting demons. She was Super Woman.
"Yes, hello. Is there a package for Mr. or Mrs. DeMarco?" Sydney leaned her elbows across the counter as the man eyed her. Vaughn allowed his attention to wander slightly, turning his body away from Sydney.
"Mr. and Mrs. DeMarco?" The man had a heavy Spanish accent.
"Yes." Sydney was so good at her part. The accent, the clothes, she nailed it all. Vaughn walked closer towards her and wrapped his hands around Sydney's thin waist. He had to control himself not to kiss the small patch of skin that was screaming for his lips to touch. He was a romantic and loved small ways of showing public affection. He managed to bite his tongue to resist the urge. "A package arrived for you and your husband an hour ago." The man quickly produced a small package, about the size of a standard notebook. "I was told to give it to you the moment I saw you. The man who dropped it off said it was urgent. It was a good thing you came up to this. Very, very good."
Vaughn took the package in his hands, releasing his grasp on Sydney. He turned it over in his hands before he extended his gratitude to the man. It was a small package, the size of an average high school textbook but considerably lighter. He started to walk towards the café, Sydney followed closely behind. It was elegantly called, "The Celestial." Everything was done in blues, golds, and silvers that caught the Spanish light from large windows that overlooked a river below them. "You're most secluded table, please?" Vaughn as the greeter, dressed in a long black dress with a white flower tied around her neck.
"Of course." She murmured in Spanish. She walked through the rows of tables, filled with people chattering in different languages. Sydney's eyes were caught by one man who looked up at her and had that recognizing look in his eye. She opened her mouth to tell Vaughn to look but looked away. This was just a man looking at an attractive girl. That was something new, a foreign man checking her out. Please note sarcasm. They continued across the restaurant that seemed so much larger than it looked. Their feet were muffled by a tan carpet that was still plush, probably new.
Finally, they reached an area, cornered off by Spanish screens. There were three other tables pushed against the kitchen wall and the rest of the restaurant was invisible from the table. Sydney and Vaughn were placed at a table that was cornered off almost completely. There was a wall on the back and left side, the screen was pressed flush against the front chair and the right side was exposed. The screen was large and completely concealed the table. Sydney sat down first and leaned forward on her elbows. She watched Vaughn melt into his seat, his eyes were wide and focused on the package. Sydney leaned over and found her cell phone with a bug killer on it. Vaughn set the package in the center of the table and leaned back into his chair. His eyes darted back and forth between Sydney and the package, her eyes did the same.
"What do you want to do first?" Vaughn finally asked, his heart pounding so quickly in his chest he kept waiting for it to expel onto the yellow linens in front of him
"I need to talk." She whispered, leaning deeper into her forearms.
"Let's talk about whatever you want to talk about." He leaned in close and matched her tone. His breath stopped waiting to hear her reply. He was suddenly aware of heartbeat, every movement, every dust particle.
She bit her lip and a little and lost eye contact with him. Her eyes memorized every inch of the crystal water glass in front of him. She suppressed the tears with gasp and tried to talk, "You know about the dreams."
He nodded his head solemnly. "Do you want to talk about them?"
She looked at him and gave him a blank stare as the words tripped and flowed out of her mouth, "I've seen your death in my mind so many times since Tai Pai. I cried myself to sleep every night you were missing and woke up crying. You have no idea how worried I was. I've never felt that fear before." She finally brought her tearful eyes up to his and tried to watch for his reaction. He tipped his head down and started to speak softly.
He didn't like to look at her when she was like that. She was so vulnerable and sometimes it was easier to talk to his shoes. Now, he spoke to the table cloth, "Every time you're out on a mission, I don't sleep. There have been nights that I've slept with my cell on my chest-" His soul was splashing out of his mouth.
"Please don't go on. My mom said-" She immediately stopped his fountain with a raised hand. Her eyebrows knit together like a careful net and new worry lines formed on her forehead.
"Your mother?" His lines went up as soon as Irinia was mentioned.
"But in the last week or so, these dreams have been getting worse." Sydney continued on her thought train. "And I can't help but think..but think if I lost you." The tears were coming back now, "I don't you at all."
He didn't know what to say. He didn't know why and he didn't know how. Sydney Bristow wasn't suppose to be like this. He let his arms out and held onto both of her hands tightly. She needed to be coddled right now, whether she would accept it or not.
"I don't know you. I work with you everyday and I don't know you. Tell me everything about you." She said looking at him with the purest eyes. She licked her lips, dry from her heavy breathing that had started when she had accidentally let it slip about her mother.almost letting it slip about how Irinia knew how Vaughn felt about her and had told her indirectly. It was so confusing.
His brow wrinkled with surprise and he started to trip and fall over his words. "What-uh-and I um, what do you want to ya know? What-do you."
"I want you to start at the beginning and tell me something I can't find in your profile."
"Well.."
"Your first girlfriend."
"Oh." He drew quiet as he thought about Marie La Champ. "She was French and smart and funny and ugly as sin. I was twelve and she was thirteen. She was my next door neighbor and we played every Sunday after Church. One day, we were playing catch and she just ran towards me, knocked me over, and kissed me. She told me that I was her boyfriend. My reply? Don't hurt me."
Sydney smiled and laughed a little. She watched him seriously and was about to say something that would run along the lines of confessing her feelings but the damn waitress came and asked to take their order.
"Grapefruit and some coffee." Sydney ordered simply, raising her eyebrows letting him know it was his turn.
"Scrambled eggs, whole wheat toast and coffee." He took both menus into his hands and handed them to the waitress. As soon as she left, Vaughn smiled, "Grapefruit? That's not breakfast, that's a snack."
"It is a breakfast!" Sydney insisted, blinking away renegade tears. She shot him one of those 'take me seriously, damn it!' looks which made him instantly smile.
He could read her like a book, "There's something about grapefruit. Some story." His mouth parted in a wondering smile. "Get on with it."
It was her turn at the game of truth. "A funny story." Her cheeks began to glow a vibrant shade of pink.
"Then let's here it!" Vaughn replied, smiling. His favorite color was the blush on her cheek. It was a rose pink that glowed only in selective lighting. He wanted to touch her cheeks and feel the burning sensation beneath his dull finger tips.
Horrible and embarrassing flashbacks flooded her memory, causing her brow to wrinkle, in a good way, and her hand to cover her face, trying to shelter herself from the discomfiture she was facing. "Oh, I can't believe I even thought of that!"
Now he was truly interested. She was embarrassed of something and now, he was dying to hear what it was. "Come, on! Tell me!"
"Oh! Okay, okay. Promise not to laugh?"
"Scout's honor!" He lifted his left hand.
"Wrong hand!" She exclaimed.
"Oh, right sorry." He smiled broadly and switched his hand. His green eyes shone with such excitement that he was about to have a heart attack in anticipation. "So?"
"Fine. When I was in 3rd grade, I took French. The teacher was a real SOB and hated me. One day, I came into class late and she asked me a question in French. I thought she asked me what was my favorite fruit was but it was really what my nickname was." Vaughn started to snicker slightly, "I was 8, gimme a break. So, I replied pamplemoose."
"Grapefruit. You said grapefruit." His laughs were becoming contagious, catching into her speech.
Sydney began to giggle girlishly. "And from day I was known as Pamplemoose Bristow in that class."
Vaughn was beyond hysterics at that point. "Qu'est-ce c'est ton prenom is not qu'est-ce que ton favorite fruit." He managed to squeak in between fits of hysteria.
"Will you please keep it down? It's bad enough that during fourth grade I was known as Moose! I grew out of that nickname, thank goodness but I was scarred! No mother or technically father and a nanny, who bought into it! She called me Moosie until my high school graduation!" She hissed. She was way, way beyond mortified at this point. Her best friend and possible love interest was going to die from lack of oxygen from laughing. "You know, I'm going to put on your tombstone 'died laughing' if you don't quit it! Didn't your mother ever teach not to laugh at girls?" She hissed as he leaned over the table, still laughing. "I'm changing the subject!"
"Fine. Fine!" Vaughn cried for mercy. Tears of pure joy began to exorcise from his green eyes.
She laughed harder and tried to catch her breath after few minutes. She settled with excited gasp that left smiling lips. When was the last time she thought so deep into her past? She let her body grow serious and starred at the package, forgotten in the story. "Let's open the package from my mother."
Boy, if you ever want to see a man snap out of a laughing fit, there's the way to do it. He grew white out of panic and his brown eyes got as wide as saucers. Cotton mouth set in extraordinarily fast. He frantically tried to talk but his tongue wouldn't move, instead he nodded a pathetic little nod. He reached towards the package and careful tore it open with his knife. The brown packing material opened to reveal a white box. He open that and revealed two envelopes and a walkman with a tape deck. One envelope read, "READ FIRST" in bold lettering. Vaughn took it in his hands and read it aloud, shaking and a soft voice, "Please read and hear these separately. Give Bristow the tape and Vaughn the sealed letter." He read aloud.
"I don't think that's necessary." Sydney replied hastily, she opened her palm and waited for Vaughn to place the tape player in her hand. He did and without hesitation, she placed the headphones and hit play. Everything else was a blur. She heard her mother's velvet voice fill her mind. Even in the state she was in, Sydney could hear the tears in her voice when she said certain lines, "We became so close. I talked about you constantly and he spoke of his little boy, who was around eight. He spoke of love almost daily, love for his wife Nanette, his son who always remained nameless and his country. He had the most love for the CIA. Almost more than you or your handler or your father. But William was gorgeous in ways only you would understand. He and his father are identical.. William told the guards that he would be the one who would die..'Never say you killed me. Never regret this decision. I die for my country and I die for my son and your daughter.. It was the worst moment of my life. Almost as bad as faking my death or leaving you. Sydney, I was in love with him. Please, forgive. Please. I love you. I love you." The tape deck stopped spinning. Tears had flooded Sydney's face as she looked, absolutely horrified at Vaughn. She didn't know what to think first..how William had died or that her mother was in love with him or that her mother knew that Vaughn had feelings for her or what. She didn't know what to say. She muffled her sobs with her hands, trying to get her emotions back in check but there was no going back anymore. She had crossed a line somewhere. It was impossible to take in. That her mother had compared herself to her and that William was like Vaughn but.
"Sydney, what is it?" Vaughn hadn't read his letter yet. He was too busy watching her reaction. "Syd, you're scaring me. Is something wrong? Give me the tape!" His voice was hushed as he called her by her true name. His heart stopped for a moment, letting the fear overcome his body. He started to go into panic mode.
"Read your letter." She said clearly, shutting her systems down. She removed the headphones and starred at him. How could this be happening? How could her mother kill someone she loved? She could never kill Vaughn, she would die herself first. His death was too painful for her and she was positive, that if he ever did die, she would go within the week from a broken heart. Love changes everything, including a girl's view on death. She was in love with him. Sydney Eleanor Bristow was in love, love with Michael Christopher Vaughn.
He didn't know what exactly was going but he picked up his letter, sealed in a white virgin envelope and started to read:
Dear Mr. Vaughn,
I know you don't have the highest opinion of me and I can't say that I blame you. If I were in your position, I would hate me. I need you to be alone when you're reading this. This is going to be powerful and you're going to hate every word of it. I hate writing it but please, you need to finish it. I've never admitted half of these things aloud and there going to very difficult for you to read. Please keep that in mind. There are so many things that I need to tell you and I don't know where to start. Let me start with something you can control. I know how you feel about my daughter and before I go any further I think you should go ahead and make your move. If you have a fear of her not feeling the same way, she feels the same way. I must keep this short. I want to tell you to circumstances that led to your father's death. We were on separate mission in Pakistan and somehow or another, we ended up in the same general vicinity. At this point, you were barely two and I had received word to go and collect a document from a building in Pakistan. Apparently, I was the only one they trusted with this. I left on my vacation, leaving you in your father's care as I went off. The mission went off without any mistakes. I entered the library of the building I was in and encountered him. He was looking for a different document and had no knowledge I was going to be there. We barely had time to do anything but look at each other because guards came into both doors, one on each end of the narrow hallway and before I could turn, I was shot with a tranq dart in my hip. They had seen me enter. William suffered a similar fate. We were bound, gagged and transported to that prison. We were put in the same cell and assumed that we were partners. From that moment on for about three weeks, we spent every moment with each other. We ate whatever food they gave us together, slept across from one another and were tortured together. We became so close. I talked about you constantly and he spoke of his little boy, who was around eight. He spoke of love almost daily, love for his wife Nanette, his son who always remained nameless and his country. He had the most love for the CIA. You and your father are identical in more than one way. I'm so sorry to say this but somewhere along the line I developed feelings for him. I'll never know if he felt the same way but the guards picked up on my attraction to him. It was nothing more that a girlish crush. We tried to escape so many times, through the sewers, the mine field, everything you could possibly think of but we were always captured and horrifically tortured. One day, February 23, we were taken out of our cell and back into the torture room. They tortured us for hours until I was slipping in and out of consciousness from lose of blood. I was much worse off than he was. They didn't mind him as much as they hated a female spy. After the torture was finished, William was brought closer to me, I was strapped to a bed. His green eyes were so friendly and understanding. They were your green eyes at their purest. We were given a choice. They would kill us both, using the slow methods they were using or if one of us was the kill the other, they would let the other go and receive full medical attention I barely opened my mouth when William told the guards that he would be the one who died. I cried and screamed refuting him but he was solid and said that I had a baby girl to worry about. I remember screaming about his little boy and he said, I'll never forget it, he said that his son was destined to take on his work. He was going to be a CIA because of his death. I cried so. My confidant would die by my hand. I was un strapped, still bleeding horribly. I was handed a gun and William stood across from me. There were three guards on me, one with a gun to my head, one to my back, one to my abdomen and on William, there was a guard holding a gun to his back. There, they told me to pull the trigger. William told me something I was supposed to tell his son and my daughter. I practically tattooed it to my body. It was, 'Never say you killed me. Never regret this decision. I die for my country and I die for my son and your daughter.' I honestly don't know whether this makes the situation that much better or worse. I pulled the trigger and everything went black. I woke in a hospital, in the states. I never knew if he had died or if I, by some miracle missed. It wasn't until years later that I found out I had and that they had mutilated his body. It was the worst moment of my life. Almost as bad as faking my death or leaving Sydney. I don't expect you to forgive me but the only thing I ask of you is to not hold this against my daughter. She is in love with you and would do anything for you. I learned that the night in Tai Pei and then again through your little interactions. The antidote is a prime example. So, please Mr. Vaughn, destroy this letter when you are finished but don't destroy what you and my daughter have.
Irinia Derveko.
Vaughn set the letter down and he looked at Sydney with a matching expression of dread, sorrow and disbelief. He was overcome by emotion and wanted to die at that moment. He was now visibly shaking and couldn't even open his mouth to speak properly. His mouth kept dropping open and returning back.
Sydney returned the frightened gaze and got to her feet suddenly. "We need to get out of here-now." She grabbed any remains of the packaging and threw them into her bag. She tossed every article into her bag and threw some money on the table. She wasn't sure how much it was, just enough to cover the food probably. She reached for Vaughn's hand and pulled him past all of the people, giving them gaping looks and showing remorse on their face as the crying couple ran past. He wasn't even crying, he just starred like Francie did off. He had finally learned how his father died. It was the most horrific thing in the world. He couldn't form sentences let alone words. They just wouldn't come and didn't want to. He needed to be alone and just sort things out in his mind.
They made their way back up to their hotel room. Things started to blur together and the next thing she could clearly see was sliding the hotel room key into the door and walking in. Vaughn was in a deep state of shock and only moved when encouraged. She walked into the door and hoped he would follow. Sadly enough, he didn't. She walked back towards him, wrapped her arms around his middle and coaxed him towards the bed, where he sat down at the edge and she kneeled at his feet, taking his hands tightly in hers. "Vaughn, talk to me. You're scaring me. Say something, anything." She pleaded through her own tears.
Tears flowed freely from his face. "Why did my mother know the story?" He asked finally. He pulled his hands away from Sydney's grasp and covered his face. "Why did my mother know that story?"
Sydney got to her feet, shocked at his initial reaction. She stepped up towards him and let him sink his head into her stomach, where she ran her hand over his head and back. "We'll work it out. We'll work it out. You're just stunned. Relax. Relax."
They stayed like that for a long time and soon, they both ran out of tears. Vaughn pulled away from Sydney and stood up. The shock was suddenly erased from his eyes and replaced with anger. "I need to be alone." He walked sternly out to the balcony, sat down and locked it tightly behind him. There was a white rod iron chair out there and he collapsed into it, and gazed out into the pool below, full of laughing screaming children. He just shook violently and tried to block out any thoughts. Sydney's mother had fallen in love with his father and he was killed because of that love. What would happen if he fell in love with Sydney and then she followed in her mother's footsteps. Wait a minute, he was in love with Sydney. That's what made him so upset. That their love was doomed like the love between his father and Irinia was doomed but wait! He was married to his mother and he was eight! William couldn't fall in love with someone else! His father was almost having an affair! He wanted to put his fist through the wall so badly or do something radical. Instead, he just sat there, wallowing in his own self-pity. It had swallowed him whole and threw him into the lava pit. He was destined to be consumed like his father had been. He was destined to follow in his father's footsteps and that included being killed by his love. Maybe he would do it first, get it over with. But first, he need to let his love know, do something about it and then end the cycle. He started to make a plan in his head, how he would do it. The cycle would end now. He would force it to end. His thoughts drifted back towards Sydney. She had curled up on the floor and just starred at him with the most desperate look of longing on her face. He knew that she wanted to comfort him and erase all of this but it was impossible. He needed to be alone, couldn't go near her for a moment. It wasn't her fault that her mother did this but when adrenaline is running that high, you think stupid things. Somewhere along the lines, his chest stopped pounding and he was calm. Sydney would survive this and go on, with a new handler and take down SD-6, without him. She wouldn't die of a broken heart, she was too tough for that. Was this going to be suicide? No, it was ending a cycle that would destroy him and Sydney. He sat out there for hours, until his head finally cleared. He had a plan that would make this end by the midnight that night.
TBC!!!
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