A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! This is, believe it or
not the sequel to BLUEBIRD. First, we flashback to this mission that will
given the mystery man at the end of BLUEBIRD 's identity. Flash forward to
the present, find out what happens with Sydney at Vaughn's place and then
finally, flash forward once more to the future where Portia Vaughn,
daughter of Sydney and Vaughn, and our two favorite spies get in over their
heads with an international affair that shows the mystery that is 47. So,
just bear with me while we sort out this business of the past op and by the
end of chapter 3, we'll be back up at the present and by chapter 4, the
twists and turns that I love to write will start to show. I'll try not to
make my chapters too too long and if they get too wordy or obnoxious, let
me know. I take the reviews very seriously and love them!
Just remember there are clues everywhere and at least one character death before the end of Forty-Seven. And I'll give you hints all throughout the chapters....and remember, you think you know but you have no idea.
He walked into his bedroom and sighed rather loudly. The door shutting behind her filled the familiar silence. He was used to being alone and have the void of stillness being filled with only the whimpers of a hungry or tired dog. The green eyes scanned the room with satisfaction. His room was comfortable and he knew that it was okay that she was going to see it or hell, she already saw it. His hands were brought up to his face and ran over the sweat drawn brow and cheek bones. His breath was slow and steady as his heart began to race. This whole thing felt doomed to fail. His house felt as though it was closing in on him, no matter how comfortable it was, and he kept waiting up for the door to come flying open and there would be Alice or Jack Bristow or anyone for Alliance. He shouldn't have brought her to his home. His legs collapsed on his bed and reclined fully to look at the ceiling.
The room felt like it was spinning as his thoughts drifted to places that it shouldn't go. Another deep sigh filled his chest as he sat up, shaking his head in defeat. He needed to concentrate and find some sweats for him and for her. Why was he in love with her? He knew everything about her, memorizing her case file within the week that she first came. Her case number was USS-CI-2300844. She knew that she was trained in martial arts, surveillance, high risk retrieval, firearms, driving techniques, pursuit and evasion, track & field, pilates, linguistics and theatrical arts. She knew too many languages for him to count and she had an R01 molar extraction. He grinned slightly at the thought of her coming up, practically running through an entire supply of pens or that horrible red hair. She could kill him in a heartbeat without a second thought and was probably more intelligent than he would ever hope to be. Probably valedictorian or highly honored. She was so beautiful that he couldn't get that image out of his mind. The crazy thing about it was that the forces that had brought her into his life were tearing it apart and keeping them from being together. Okay, that was sort of a lie. Their occupations and the little thing called his girlfriend kept them from being together.
His body was forced to a standing position and he disappeared into a walk in closet and found a pair of gray sweatpants with a drawstring waist for her and a pair of jeans for him. An old college sweatshirt was quickly found to complete her outfit and he was now sweating so profusely that he chose a black t-shirt for him. He heard the door open once more and familiar feminine footfall reach his door. He had finished placing the clothes on his bed and turned around to face her, soaking wet.
The white robe was tied tightly around her waist and her hand held the top closed tightly to her neck with her ugly clothes tucked beneath her arm. Her other hand was crossed tightly around her waist as a way to put up another barrier. Her hair was dark from the water and pulled tightly into a braid. Her cheeks were flushed from the scalding water. And now, she stood before her crush's bedroom. A slight smile crossed her lips, "That felt good." She finally said after a moment of starring into each others eyes. He had straightened up and just stood there.
Quite honestly, he didn't know what to do or say after that. He started to stammer and grabbed the clothes off of his bed and extended them out to her. "Here ya go." Their hands touched for a brief instant and she caught her breath up in her mouth. He backed away for a moment, starring at her perfectly painted peach toenails and grabbed his own clothes, "I'm gonna go take a shower. I'll only be a few minutes." He walked towards the door and to the other side of her. "If you want, you can help yourself to whatever you want. Make yourself at home. Grab a book off the shelf, make yourself a sandwich, smoothie, sleep whatever. You can use my room to change into those if you want." His body moved almost as fast as his tongue as he walked towards the bathroom. He finally ran out of room and out of words. He stood outside his bathroom and looked at the floor again, "I'll only be a few minutes."
The smile crossed over her lips again, "Hey, take your time." And she was alone again. Loneliness was becoming something was used to. *If you think hard enough, you can be all alone in a crowd* Her thoughts drifted ruefully. But her head shook back and forth softly, banishing the thoughts from her brain. Right now, she was in Michael Vaughn's bedroom. Only a select number of women had ever seen his Mecca and now she was added to the list, although she wished she could have seen it under different circumstances. Her wet hair still clung to the back of her neck and her body was still rather damp from the scalding hot water. But she was here now and almost safe. It would just take a few moments to get changed, then she would make herself something to eat or drink (even though she wasn't really hungry or thirsty) and she and Vaughn would talk about this like two responsible adults. End of story. She needed to get changed first. She quietly slipped out of his bedroom and found her bag sitting peacefully near his door. Just as quietly as she had slipped out, she walked back into his room.
It was almost painful removing the white fluffy robe from her body. It felt almost as good as being wrapped Vaughn's arms, like she was for a few brief moments. She couldn't help but feel guilty. She was almost positive that this was gift meant for his girlfriend. It was wrapped in pink paper and hidden beneath his bed. She was wearing his girlfriend's gift and then, what was he going to do with it? Wash it and give it her? That would be kind of gross and impersonal. She banished these thoughts from her mind and started to get changed. The clothes smelled just like him. She pulled on the Boston College sweatshirt and then the gray sweatpants. Her eyes drifted towards the closed window near her bed and she caught her reflection. If anyone had seen her there, she would have thought she was one of his new girlfriends who stayed the night and needed clothes. No, if she was his girlfriend, she would be wearing his boxers. Another smile crossed her lips; her in Vaughn's boxers, sleeping in Vaughn's bed next to him. *Knock it off!* Her subconscious screamed in her brain, causing her to blush slightly. That was a rare trait of hers, she could make herself blush.
He sighed a little too loudly. He honestly needed to stop this habit of sighing. He was never tired before Sydney but then again, he didn't know if he could live without her in his life. This was going to be an incredibly long night, afternoon, twilight..whatever you honestly wanted to call it. The water pounded on every inch of his skin as he leaned his hands against the warming wall in front of him. He wished it would cool his mind not his body but no such luck. They had been through so much together. She had risked her own life and her father's life on finding a cure for the virus for him. She sat beside him at the hospital and cried when she thought no one was looking but he was fully awake and aware of her presence. But this was more difficult than he could ever imagine. More difficult than finding out that her mother killed his father or that..that...what could possibly be more difficult than that? But now, this was inhumane to be faced with this position. How was he going to get through this? Alice was probably going to show up unexpectedly. And why the hell did he tell Sydney to make a smoothie? A smoothie!?!? The water was turning obnoxious so he shut it off, abandoning any hopes of being calmed. Racking with guilt and regret, he turned off the shower and started to towel off and dress into his jeans.
She had finished dressing and padded towards the kitchen to get herself something to drink but somehow, she never managed to make it there. She felt as though her body stopped working and all she could do was concentrate on how incredibly comfortable his couch seemed. Her limbs moved a little more slowly now, tense and sore from her hard core bout. But before she collapsed, she glanced at the pictures hanging on the wall and rested on little shelves. They were of a blonde girl and Vaughn, smiling and sitting on a towel at the beach. Another was of Vaughn and an older woman outside a vine covered home. The last picture that stuck out was of a little boy clutching his father's hand outside of a sport arena. And as much as she wanted to continue, the desire to sit down grew greater and greater. She found the couch and propped her head up on her hand.
He finished dressing, feeling more at home and more comfortable and realized with sudden impact how quiet his house had grown. His instincts went into high gear but the logical part of his brain shouted loudly that she was probably just sleeping. Alice didn't barge in and kill her. Sloane didn't find them out and ordered a hit on her. They were safe. They were home. At his home. Him and AGENT SYDNEY BRISTOW. If he were a girl, he would be skipping down the hallway but then, that would given Weiss way too much ammunition for far too many jokes. But still, he couldn't stop the grin that formed over is lips. He made his way to his living room and caught his breath high in his throat. There was Sydney, curled up on his couch, fast asleep. He made his way over, wanting so badly just to take her in his arms and hold her there for a while. But that was possible. He grabbed a blanket off of his chair and decided to wrap her in it. His feet crept silently towards her and his hand was outstretched just to touch her cheek. He just needed to see if she was real. He hovered a few inches over her face, well aware that at any given moment, she was going to wake up and drop him, very hard and very fast. He recoiled his hand back and covered her with the blanket instead.
She felt a soft warming feeling cover her body and she stirred slightly. There was Vaughn standing over her, covering her with a green knitted blanket. He made a soothing sound and knelt in front of her.
"Hey, I'm sorry. I woke you up." He replied apologetically.
She yawned slightly and moved to sit up slight, "That's okay." And yawned. "How long was a sleeping for?"
He sat down beside her and grinned slightly, "I have no idea but I've been out of the shower for about ten minutes. So, over ten minutes?" He settled comfortably into his cushion on the couch. "When was the last time you slept?"
Sydney thought about this whole-heartedly for a moment, " I honestly don't remember. I got home from the op and I just never stopped, ya know?"
He shifted his weight once more, "Do you think we could talk about it? The op, I mean."
He watched her chest rise and fall with her deep inhalation, "Okay."
And with that, she began to unravel the tale of the op that went so wrong that would damage her life, Vaughn's life, and her future daughter's life forever.
Just remember there are clues everywhere and at least one character death before the end of Forty-Seven. And I'll give you hints all throughout the chapters....and remember, you think you know but you have no idea.
He walked into his bedroom and sighed rather loudly. The door shutting behind her filled the familiar silence. He was used to being alone and have the void of stillness being filled with only the whimpers of a hungry or tired dog. The green eyes scanned the room with satisfaction. His room was comfortable and he knew that it was okay that she was going to see it or hell, she already saw it. His hands were brought up to his face and ran over the sweat drawn brow and cheek bones. His breath was slow and steady as his heart began to race. This whole thing felt doomed to fail. His house felt as though it was closing in on him, no matter how comfortable it was, and he kept waiting up for the door to come flying open and there would be Alice or Jack Bristow or anyone for Alliance. He shouldn't have brought her to his home. His legs collapsed on his bed and reclined fully to look at the ceiling.
The room felt like it was spinning as his thoughts drifted to places that it shouldn't go. Another deep sigh filled his chest as he sat up, shaking his head in defeat. He needed to concentrate and find some sweats for him and for her. Why was he in love with her? He knew everything about her, memorizing her case file within the week that she first came. Her case number was USS-CI-2300844. She knew that she was trained in martial arts, surveillance, high risk retrieval, firearms, driving techniques, pursuit and evasion, track & field, pilates, linguistics and theatrical arts. She knew too many languages for him to count and she had an R01 molar extraction. He grinned slightly at the thought of her coming up, practically running through an entire supply of pens or that horrible red hair. She could kill him in a heartbeat without a second thought and was probably more intelligent than he would ever hope to be. Probably valedictorian or highly honored. She was so beautiful that he couldn't get that image out of his mind. The crazy thing about it was that the forces that had brought her into his life were tearing it apart and keeping them from being together. Okay, that was sort of a lie. Their occupations and the little thing called his girlfriend kept them from being together.
His body was forced to a standing position and he disappeared into a walk in closet and found a pair of gray sweatpants with a drawstring waist for her and a pair of jeans for him. An old college sweatshirt was quickly found to complete her outfit and he was now sweating so profusely that he chose a black t-shirt for him. He heard the door open once more and familiar feminine footfall reach his door. He had finished placing the clothes on his bed and turned around to face her, soaking wet.
The white robe was tied tightly around her waist and her hand held the top closed tightly to her neck with her ugly clothes tucked beneath her arm. Her other hand was crossed tightly around her waist as a way to put up another barrier. Her hair was dark from the water and pulled tightly into a braid. Her cheeks were flushed from the scalding water. And now, she stood before her crush's bedroom. A slight smile crossed her lips, "That felt good." She finally said after a moment of starring into each others eyes. He had straightened up and just stood there.
Quite honestly, he didn't know what to do or say after that. He started to stammer and grabbed the clothes off of his bed and extended them out to her. "Here ya go." Their hands touched for a brief instant and she caught her breath up in her mouth. He backed away for a moment, starring at her perfectly painted peach toenails and grabbed his own clothes, "I'm gonna go take a shower. I'll only be a few minutes." He walked towards the door and to the other side of her. "If you want, you can help yourself to whatever you want. Make yourself at home. Grab a book off the shelf, make yourself a sandwich, smoothie, sleep whatever. You can use my room to change into those if you want." His body moved almost as fast as his tongue as he walked towards the bathroom. He finally ran out of room and out of words. He stood outside his bathroom and looked at the floor again, "I'll only be a few minutes."
The smile crossed over her lips again, "Hey, take your time." And she was alone again. Loneliness was becoming something was used to. *If you think hard enough, you can be all alone in a crowd* Her thoughts drifted ruefully. But her head shook back and forth softly, banishing the thoughts from her brain. Right now, she was in Michael Vaughn's bedroom. Only a select number of women had ever seen his Mecca and now she was added to the list, although she wished she could have seen it under different circumstances. Her wet hair still clung to the back of her neck and her body was still rather damp from the scalding hot water. But she was here now and almost safe. It would just take a few moments to get changed, then she would make herself something to eat or drink (even though she wasn't really hungry or thirsty) and she and Vaughn would talk about this like two responsible adults. End of story. She needed to get changed first. She quietly slipped out of his bedroom and found her bag sitting peacefully near his door. Just as quietly as she had slipped out, she walked back into his room.
It was almost painful removing the white fluffy robe from her body. It felt almost as good as being wrapped Vaughn's arms, like she was for a few brief moments. She couldn't help but feel guilty. She was almost positive that this was gift meant for his girlfriend. It was wrapped in pink paper and hidden beneath his bed. She was wearing his girlfriend's gift and then, what was he going to do with it? Wash it and give it her? That would be kind of gross and impersonal. She banished these thoughts from her mind and started to get changed. The clothes smelled just like him. She pulled on the Boston College sweatshirt and then the gray sweatpants. Her eyes drifted towards the closed window near her bed and she caught her reflection. If anyone had seen her there, she would have thought she was one of his new girlfriends who stayed the night and needed clothes. No, if she was his girlfriend, she would be wearing his boxers. Another smile crossed her lips; her in Vaughn's boxers, sleeping in Vaughn's bed next to him. *Knock it off!* Her subconscious screamed in her brain, causing her to blush slightly. That was a rare trait of hers, she could make herself blush.
He sighed a little too loudly. He honestly needed to stop this habit of sighing. He was never tired before Sydney but then again, he didn't know if he could live without her in his life. This was going to be an incredibly long night, afternoon, twilight..whatever you honestly wanted to call it. The water pounded on every inch of his skin as he leaned his hands against the warming wall in front of him. He wished it would cool his mind not his body but no such luck. They had been through so much together. She had risked her own life and her father's life on finding a cure for the virus for him. She sat beside him at the hospital and cried when she thought no one was looking but he was fully awake and aware of her presence. But this was more difficult than he could ever imagine. More difficult than finding out that her mother killed his father or that..that...what could possibly be more difficult than that? But now, this was inhumane to be faced with this position. How was he going to get through this? Alice was probably going to show up unexpectedly. And why the hell did he tell Sydney to make a smoothie? A smoothie!?!? The water was turning obnoxious so he shut it off, abandoning any hopes of being calmed. Racking with guilt and regret, he turned off the shower and started to towel off and dress into his jeans.
She had finished dressing and padded towards the kitchen to get herself something to drink but somehow, she never managed to make it there. She felt as though her body stopped working and all she could do was concentrate on how incredibly comfortable his couch seemed. Her limbs moved a little more slowly now, tense and sore from her hard core bout. But before she collapsed, she glanced at the pictures hanging on the wall and rested on little shelves. They were of a blonde girl and Vaughn, smiling and sitting on a towel at the beach. Another was of Vaughn and an older woman outside a vine covered home. The last picture that stuck out was of a little boy clutching his father's hand outside of a sport arena. And as much as she wanted to continue, the desire to sit down grew greater and greater. She found the couch and propped her head up on her hand.
He finished dressing, feeling more at home and more comfortable and realized with sudden impact how quiet his house had grown. His instincts went into high gear but the logical part of his brain shouted loudly that she was probably just sleeping. Alice didn't barge in and kill her. Sloane didn't find them out and ordered a hit on her. They were safe. They were home. At his home. Him and AGENT SYDNEY BRISTOW. If he were a girl, he would be skipping down the hallway but then, that would given Weiss way too much ammunition for far too many jokes. But still, he couldn't stop the grin that formed over is lips. He made his way to his living room and caught his breath high in his throat. There was Sydney, curled up on his couch, fast asleep. He made his way over, wanting so badly just to take her in his arms and hold her there for a while. But that was possible. He grabbed a blanket off of his chair and decided to wrap her in it. His feet crept silently towards her and his hand was outstretched just to touch her cheek. He just needed to see if she was real. He hovered a few inches over her face, well aware that at any given moment, she was going to wake up and drop him, very hard and very fast. He recoiled his hand back and covered her with the blanket instead.
She felt a soft warming feeling cover her body and she stirred slightly. There was Vaughn standing over her, covering her with a green knitted blanket. He made a soothing sound and knelt in front of her.
"Hey, I'm sorry. I woke you up." He replied apologetically.
She yawned slightly and moved to sit up slight, "That's okay." And yawned. "How long was a sleeping for?"
He sat down beside her and grinned slightly, "I have no idea but I've been out of the shower for about ten minutes. So, over ten minutes?" He settled comfortably into his cushion on the couch. "When was the last time you slept?"
Sydney thought about this whole-heartedly for a moment, " I honestly don't remember. I got home from the op and I just never stopped, ya know?"
He shifted his weight once more, "Do you think we could talk about it? The op, I mean."
He watched her chest rise and fall with her deep inhalation, "Okay."
And with that, she began to unravel the tale of the op that went so wrong that would damage her life, Vaughn's life, and her future daughter's life forever.