He was a trained professional.
He could do this.
He could act like a professional.
He could think about the mission without spending all of his time thinking about Sydney in a bikini on the beach. Or in the hotel room next door. All alone in that bed...
Yeah, and pigs would fly. Jack Bristow would call him "son" and welcome him to the family with a big hug. And Weiss would grow up. All likely events.
In an alternate universe. On the planet Krypton. In the year 2525.
On the way to the airstrip, his cell phone beeped. It was Weiss, of course. "So, where are you? We're waiting!"
"What do you mean? I'm right on.." he trailed off as he saw the time on the car's clock. What the hell?
"Let me guess. You went back to your apartment to pack and spent who knows how long sitting on the bed doing what? Imagining Syd in a bikini?" Thank the gods above Weiss wasn't here to see his mouth hanging open.
"Weiss..."
"Or wondering which shirt would perfectly match your eyes and make her drop whatever revenge scenario she might have cooked up?"
"Argh. I don't even own a green shirt! Please tell me she isn't sitting right there listening to you. Please."
"Nah. I'm not that cruel. Although if you don't show up soon, everyone is going to start asking questions and you know me, honesty is the best policy." Weiss finished in a sing-song voice that made Vaughn want to pop him.
"I'm on my way. Ten minutes if I speed."
"Well, speed then. Hey, Syd, guess what---" Weiss hung up. Vaughn broke out in a cold sweat.
By the time he arrived at the airstrip he was a wreck. He threw his bag into the cargo hold and greeted everyone, sat down and then got back up to grab a soda. Then sat down and opened the soda. Then got back up to get a napkin or two or twenty because he spilled the freakin' soda. Then threw away said napkins. Then had to get himself another soda. Then noted to himself that maybe he needed a caffeine-free soda, given the fact that he had the jitters already. So he got back up and exchanged the soda for another one. Then sat back down. Opened it. Carefully. Then gave Weiss a dirty look for cracking up at him. Then turned his head when Weiss wandered over and asked, "A little nervous, are we? Don't blame you. Not at all. Not at all."
Hours later, he thought, okay, he could do this. Maybe Weiss' fears were unfounded. Nothing seemed to be happening. Syd was polite, professional. Somewhat cool, but only those who had known them "Before" (he always thought of it with a capital 'B' in quotation marks) would notice anything wrong. But then again, probably everyone on this assignment knew that he had been her handler and that she had requested reassignment to Weiss. If they did not know the full story, (and he hoped to God that they did not), they probably thought he must be incompetent, especially if she repeated her comment about needing more field experience. So great, he was either the world's biggest fool for going out with Alice when he could have been having some kind, any kind, of a relationship with Sydney or he was incompetent. What a choice. Fabulous.
Vaughn spent the entire flight just waiting for the other shoe to drop. But Syd never engaged him in any conversation other than about the mission nor did she make any snide comments to Weiss or the other two agents, Barclay and Washington. She looked like the consummate professional. He probably looked like he was coming down with something what with the constant light layer of sweat on his forehead. Every time Weiss handed him a tissue, he smiled, a huge mocking smile that Vaughn vowed he would someday, someday soon, punch right off of his face.
He hated to admit it, but Weiss was right, he had mishandled the situation. He'd had time to think about it. He should have been honest from the beginning. Although he still didn't really know why he'd done what he'd done. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Maybe he could just blame it on common, classic male stupidity? Yeah, great idea. That would make her forgive him. Not. That idiotic excuse would just up the ante. And Sydney Bristow out for blood would not be pleasant. But so far, he could handle it. Really, he could.
"Weiss, maybe you were wrong. I mean, she didn't do anything on the flight."
"Yeah, and you looked like you were handling that oh-so-well. She has you down cold, man."
"What do you mean?
"You may love her, but in some ways you don't know her. She, however, knows you and has probably spent the last 6 months analyzing your weaknesses. She knew you would just be waiting for her to do something on that flight. Instead she did nothing, knowing it would just kill you by raising your anxiety level every minute. Perfect."
Silence.
"So, am I right?"
Grunt. Then Vaughn asked, "So what do you think she'll do next?"
"Ha. Who knows?"
He could do this.
He could act like a professional.
He could think about the mission without spending all of his time thinking about Sydney in a bikini on the beach. Or in the hotel room next door. All alone in that bed...
Yeah, and pigs would fly. Jack Bristow would call him "son" and welcome him to the family with a big hug. And Weiss would grow up. All likely events.
In an alternate universe. On the planet Krypton. In the year 2525.
On the way to the airstrip, his cell phone beeped. It was Weiss, of course. "So, where are you? We're waiting!"
"What do you mean? I'm right on.." he trailed off as he saw the time on the car's clock. What the hell?
"Let me guess. You went back to your apartment to pack and spent who knows how long sitting on the bed doing what? Imagining Syd in a bikini?" Thank the gods above Weiss wasn't here to see his mouth hanging open.
"Weiss..."
"Or wondering which shirt would perfectly match your eyes and make her drop whatever revenge scenario she might have cooked up?"
"Argh. I don't even own a green shirt! Please tell me she isn't sitting right there listening to you. Please."
"Nah. I'm not that cruel. Although if you don't show up soon, everyone is going to start asking questions and you know me, honesty is the best policy." Weiss finished in a sing-song voice that made Vaughn want to pop him.
"I'm on my way. Ten minutes if I speed."
"Well, speed then. Hey, Syd, guess what---" Weiss hung up. Vaughn broke out in a cold sweat.
By the time he arrived at the airstrip he was a wreck. He threw his bag into the cargo hold and greeted everyone, sat down and then got back up to grab a soda. Then sat down and opened the soda. Then got back up to get a napkin or two or twenty because he spilled the freakin' soda. Then threw away said napkins. Then had to get himself another soda. Then noted to himself that maybe he needed a caffeine-free soda, given the fact that he had the jitters already. So he got back up and exchanged the soda for another one. Then sat back down. Opened it. Carefully. Then gave Weiss a dirty look for cracking up at him. Then turned his head when Weiss wandered over and asked, "A little nervous, are we? Don't blame you. Not at all. Not at all."
Hours later, he thought, okay, he could do this. Maybe Weiss' fears were unfounded. Nothing seemed to be happening. Syd was polite, professional. Somewhat cool, but only those who had known them "Before" (he always thought of it with a capital 'B' in quotation marks) would notice anything wrong. But then again, probably everyone on this assignment knew that he had been her handler and that she had requested reassignment to Weiss. If they did not know the full story, (and he hoped to God that they did not), they probably thought he must be incompetent, especially if she repeated her comment about needing more field experience. So great, he was either the world's biggest fool for going out with Alice when he could have been having some kind, any kind, of a relationship with Sydney or he was incompetent. What a choice. Fabulous.
Vaughn spent the entire flight just waiting for the other shoe to drop. But Syd never engaged him in any conversation other than about the mission nor did she make any snide comments to Weiss or the other two agents, Barclay and Washington. She looked like the consummate professional. He probably looked like he was coming down with something what with the constant light layer of sweat on his forehead. Every time Weiss handed him a tissue, he smiled, a huge mocking smile that Vaughn vowed he would someday, someday soon, punch right off of his face.
He hated to admit it, but Weiss was right, he had mishandled the situation. He'd had time to think about it. He should have been honest from the beginning. Although he still didn't really know why he'd done what he'd done. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Maybe he could just blame it on common, classic male stupidity? Yeah, great idea. That would make her forgive him. Not. That idiotic excuse would just up the ante. And Sydney Bristow out for blood would not be pleasant. But so far, he could handle it. Really, he could.
"Weiss, maybe you were wrong. I mean, she didn't do anything on the flight."
"Yeah, and you looked like you were handling that oh-so-well. She has you down cold, man."
"What do you mean?
"You may love her, but in some ways you don't know her. She, however, knows you and has probably spent the last 6 months analyzing your weaknesses. She knew you would just be waiting for her to do something on that flight. Instead she did nothing, knowing it would just kill you by raising your anxiety level every minute. Perfect."
Silence.
"So, am I right?"
Grunt. Then Vaughn asked, "So what do you think she'll do next?"
"Ha. Who knows?"