Chapter Two: His Chance

"Come on," Sydney Vaughn encouraged as she pulled her car up in front of the restaurant. "You dad's so anxious to see you."

Jack smiled; he had been touched, actually, by the warm reception he had gotten from his mother. She didn't even seem to care that they hadn't parted on the best of terms and that he rarely returned her calls. She was just glad to have her little boy back.

"Oh," Jack said with surprise as Emily and his mother started toward the front of the restaurant. "Dad's not back in the kitchen?"

"Not tonight, sweetie," his mother said, ruffling his hair affectionately. She had done that since he was a kid; she still did it, even though he was taller than her now and practically an adult. "He's hosting."

"Schmoozing," Emily translated.

"Something like that," Sydney laughed. "Come on, he's going to need our help."

They entered the restaurant to the sound of music and raucous laughter. Jack's eyes popped. He had never seen the place so busy. He caught sight of his father in the corner, deep in conversation with a waiter, and he felt an unexpected surge of happiness. His father had never been anything but great to him, and in spite of their recent disagreements, Jack had missed him a lot.

"Jack," Michael Vaughn said when he caught sight of his son, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Welcome home."

Jack felt a flood of relief as his dad reached out to shake his hand, feeling like maybe he really was home.

"Doesn't he look great, darling?" Sydney enthused, smoothing an imaginary wrinkle from her son's shirt.

"He sure does," Michael agreed, slipping an arm around his wife's waist. Sydney responded by resting her head on his shoulder. "So, I guess school must be keeping you pretty busy, huh, Jack? We hardly hear from you."

"Michael--" Sydney admonished.

"No, it's okay," Jack cut in sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Dad."

"It's certainly understandable," Sydney said smoothly. "Michael, darling, where do you need my help?"

Michael offered her an apologetic look. "Would you mind too terribly if I asked you to help Sam out behind the bar?"

"Of course not," Sydney said, kissing him warmly.

Jack watched his parents, feeling the same rush of comfort he always felt when he saw them being affectionate. Only now, watching them also made him feel a little regretful. He'd left behind an amazing girlfriend when he'd left for school, completely broken her heart. Of course, he wasn't stupid enough to think he'd loved her like his parents loved each other, but, well-- "How long did you guys know each other before you got married?" he blurted, before his mother had a chance to head for the bar.

Sydney and Michael exchanged a glance. Of course. Jack was asking about a time before the island, before the Organization. Of course this required some deliberation. "A little over a year, wasn't it, baby?" Sydney asked, trailing her fingers along the front of her husband's dress shirt.

"Yeah," Michael agreed. "A year and a few months."

"How long did you know each other before you knew you were in love?" He'd known Delia since he was eight years old, and he still wasn't sure.

Michael smiled in response. "I loved your mother from the first minute I saw her," he said, pulling his wife closer.

"Oh, you did not, you liar," Sydney said, letting out a peal of laughter. "You were still going out with-- what was her name? Alice?"

"She never held a candle to you, sweetheart," Michael promised. Jack rolled his eyes as his father pulled Sydney in for another kiss before she finally headed across the room to slide behind the bar.

"I'm in love," Emily announced.

Jack looked at her in surprise. He'd almost forgotten she was still there.

"Emily--" Michael began, green eyes flaring in a mixture of impatience and irritation.

"I think I'll go see if Jason needs help with the dishes," Emily cut in sweetly, standing on her toes to kiss her father's cheek.

"Oh, no, you don't, young lady," Michael admonished. "Why don't you get to work bussing tables?"

"Daddy--" Emily protested.

"I'm serious, Emily," Michael said, giving her a look that Jack knew meant business. He had never known his father to direct that look at Emily, but then, he'd never known Emily to wear skimpy clothes and talk about being in love, either.

"Fine," Emily pouted, stomping off.

"What was that all about?" Jack wondered aloud.

"I don't know what to do with her lately," Michael rolled his eyes. "I'd like to lock her in her room till she leaves for college."

The comment hit Jack hard. What, he'd had to fight to leave the stupid island, now it was just expected that Emily would? "You think she'll want to go?"

Michael and Jack locked eyes for a moment. It was Michael who spoke first. "Hey, Jack, all that stuff before you left-- you know your mother and I were just worried about you, right?"

But why? Jack wanted to scream. Millions of kids left home for college every year. Why was it such a big deal that he'd wanted to do the same?

A nagging thought told him that it had something to do with the Organization. Something to do with things that had started even before he was born.

"Dad--" he began.

"Mr. Vaughn, we have a crisis." Jack rolled his eyes as Henry, a man who had waited tables at the restaurant for years, hurried up to them. "Oh, hi, Jack."

"Hi," Jack said impatiently. Looked like now wasn't the best time to ask his father all of the questions that had been burning inside of him for so long.

The only question was whether he'd ever get his chance.