***All right, here it is. The much anticipated fifth installment. As
promised, it is S/V packed and subsequently super-shippy, not to mention
much longer than the other chapters. I realized after writing this chapter
that once I get started on these two, I just cannot stop.
***Also, I am sorry about Weiss's minimal, boring role in this chapter, I just cannot seem to fully capture his character. A wise man once said 'all I am is your conduit to Vaughn', and that basically sums up his part.
***Note to reviewer concerned with the authenticity of Vaughn's crying in 'Say the Word': I was not trying to imply that he was 'crying', per-say, but simply attempting to express the pain he was going through. One cannot stop tears from forming when your life is in the hands of your fathers murderer and certain things have been left unsaid to everyone's favorite spy, no? I thought I would justify that because I too at first questioned including that aspect, but in the end finally decided to go with it.
***I HATE the title of this story. You will understand the meaning behind it upon finishing this particular chapter, but I wanted to use something a little more appropriate. Sorry just doesn't seem to work. Let me know if you have any ideas . . .
***And of course, this would not be an Alias story without reference to the mystery that is 47. So here ya go. Enjoy!
***I do not own Alias or any of its characters.
-
-
-
I spot Weiss's car and park ten to the left. He doesn't turn to look at me, but sticks a key into a mail box and before closing it lets a piece of paper hang out. He shuts it and begins up the stairs. The clock reads 12:46.
So here I am. Vaughn's apartment complex. It's odd, being here, where he is just Michael Vaughn, not Agent Michael Vaughn.
Now that I think about it, Francie and I actually considered renting here. Francie liked the view of the room we have now better. If we had moved here, I could see Vaughn outside of work every day. It's not like they could make either of us move or anything. Damn Francie.
This is not how I imagined visiting Vaughn's apartment. There had been more smiles and nervous laughter than frowns and worried curses.
Why the hell is he doing this to me? I wonder if he ever stopped to think, 'if I don't show up to work today, what is Sydney going to do'? Does he honestly think he's the only one here with sleepless nights?
The clock finally flicks to12: 47.
Checking for tails one last time; I grab my purse and open the door. I walk past the mailboxes and read 203J off the box Weiss marked. I want to run up the stairs and burst through the door, but the neighbors might think it odd that a woman they had never seen was bounding into Vaughn's apartment. After what seems like hours I reach 203J. Taking a deep breath I open the door.
"Hey! How have you been?"
I smile giddily at Weiss and then turn to shut the door. Before he can reply to my sugarcoated greeting I throw down my purse.
"Where's his room."
"Second door to the left."
I want to take the time and absorb everything in here, but instead I leap down the hallway and start banging on his door.
-
*Honey you are a rock, upon which I stand. And I come here to talk, I hope you understand. *
-
"Vaughn open the door!"
Nothing.
"Vaughn! I don't know what the hell is wrong with you but you are going to open that door and get your ass out here."
Nothing. My voice is stern and I feel like a parent scolding their child.
"You and I both know I can pick this lock in under 15 seconds so I suggest you open the door before I have to do it myself."
I hear a muffled cough from Weiss's seat on a barstool in the kitchen in an attempt to get my attention.
"There's a chair against the doorknob."
You have got to be kidding me.
"You wedged a chair against the door? What are you, ten?"
He is still not answering me. I really did not think it would take this long to get him out of there.
"All right then, that's fine. Ill just shoot the door down. I wonder what your neighbors would think of that. Gunshots in the middle of the day can raise a few eyebrows."
Of course I'm kidding, it's all just to get a rise out of him. And it is not working as I planned. I soften my voice because yelling isn't doing it.
"Vaughn? Vaughn, I need you to open the door for me. You don't have to talk I just. . . I want to see you."
I hear movement inside the room. But its just on the bed, the door is still wedged shut. Something is seriously wrong, and I don't know what to do.
"Um . . .Weiss?"
He looks up at me from the kitchen and nods his head.
"You'll call me if . . ."
"Of course."
"Good luck Sydney."
"Thank you."
He gives me one last glance and the leaves.
"Vaughn? Did you hear that? Weiss left, it's just me now. Please, just open the door? Or at least say something."
Nothing.
"Vaughn? Please?"
Still nothing. I notice that my voice has gotten a little uneven. I laugh a little at myself.
"Do you hear what this is doing to me Vaughn? I can travel around the world and effortlessly steal from the rich and famous, but I have to remind myself to breathe straight right now."
Another shift.
"Alright, be a baby about it. You are acting so immature!" I notice a slight change in the pitch of my voice again but I can't help it. "You act so brave, so strong, but you don't even have the courage to let me in your room! And the fact that you won't talk to me isn't helping either. I can't help you unless you tell me what's wrong!"
-
*Green eyes, yeah the spark light shines upon you How could anybody deny you? *
-
I am appalled to find tears forming in my eyes. I did not intend on crying. I am not the one who is in trouble this time. My hands immediately fly up to my eyes and rub the tears away.
"Vaughn, please? Do you hear this? Do you hear me! I'm crying damnit!" Now I find that nearly all of my sentences end with a sniffle. I slowly sink to the ground leaning against his door. "You can't do this to me; you can't push me away! You're.you're me rock and I'm trying to return the favor but you won't even let me!"
Another shift. But no words. Suddenly it dawns on me why I might not be the person he wants to talk to right now. And my eyes grow painfully dry.
"Oh God Vaughn, I'm so sorry. I know I look like her, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Will you please just . . ."
Theres another shift, but this one comes from the door. The chair.
I immediately jump to my feet and find the doorknob is loose. I open it slowly and gaze upon something I thought I would never see. His room is a light green with a darker trim. All of his furniture is a deep oak and there is a large window on the far wall. It's a fairly large room, and finally my eyes find him sitting with his back to the headboard staring at his feet. His sheets are all white, and the downy comforter is dented where he sits. I notice it's the first time I've seen him outside of work attire (which ranges from a suit, janitor jumpers, and the lone leather jacket). He is wearing black sweats and an over-used king's T-shirt, no socks on his feet. I would smile if it weren't for the lost look on his face.
I notice for the first time that I have taken off my shoes and removed my suit jacket. I still feel insanely over dressed. But I guess now is not the time to be concerned with attire.
I walk nonchalantly over to the bed and sit mirroring his position, staring at my feet as well. And I am shocked to finally hear his voice.
"You don't look like her."
"You don't think so?"
"Not even a little."
He acknowledges my presence for the first time and flashes me a weak smile. It's a smile none the less.
"You know, this isn't how I imagined you visiting my apartment for the first time."
"Me neither. But I didn't really have a choice, did i."
He frowns and turns his gaze to an imaginary spot on the comforter.
"I didn't mean to worry you."
"Well you did."
"I'm sorry."
"It's a little to late for that now isn't it."
"It's really not a big deal Sydney."
Ok that was uncalled for. I move my head so I am staring right at him, silently willing him to face me.
"Not a big deal? It was big enough to leave me out there at your door for half an hour near tears!"
"Sydney, I didn't mean to. . ."
"No Vaughn! You scared me to death! When dad told me you hadn't contacted him I thought you could have been dead! Do you understand that? I had no idea what was wrong with you! Do you honestly think you're the only one who worries here? There are times I can't sleep at night too. Do you have any idea how hard it is to know your very existence puts someone you love in danger?"
Oh good Lord. I did not just say that. I can feel my expression drop and I suddenly jerk my head in the other direction.
"Well you didn't make someone you love kill their mother!"
Not only did he ignore and reciprocate my huge slip, but he snapped at me. I cannot believe *he* just snapped at *me*.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard what I said Sydney. Because I am a coward you put about seven bullet holes in your mother."
The venom in his voice is insane. I cannot suppress my laughter.
"What? What the *hell* is so funny?"
"You are ridiculous Vaughn. Do you hear yourself?"
"I am serious Syd."
"Well I haven't a clue why. Laura Bristow died in a car accident thirty years ago. The woman I killed in Taipei was Irina Derevko. They are two very different people."
-
*I came here with a load and it feels so much lighter now that I met you Honey you should know I could never go on without you. *
-
He shakes his head and returns his gaze to the imaginary spot.
"You know what I . . ."
"I don't care what you meant. That woman was nothing to me."
For the first time, he looks me straight in the eye. I speak up when he decides not to reply.
"Plus, I don't give a damn if it was the Pope himself, there was a gun pointed at your heart. I would never let you die Vaughn, never. When I saw you on the other side of that glass, my heart stopped." I look away from him and my voice gets softer. "I tried so hard to break the glass. I knew it wouldn't but I tried just the same. I couldn't leave, I couldn't let you go, not like that."
"It's not your fault. I have been avoiding my treadmill for quite some time now.""
Somehow by the way his T-shirt falls on his chest, I find that hard to believe. But I laugh anyway.
"So . . .are you gonna tell me what she said or are we going to sit here all day."
"Well actually . . ."
"Vaughn . . ."
He laughs a bit at himself, but gets quiet after a moment. He scratches at the invisible spot and hesitates before answering my request.
"She was so . . . sarcastic at first, everything she said was so smug. Every word was so planned, as if she knew it would get to me. But then I said something about her not being your mother, and she snapped. Her eyes, they went cold. She mentioned my father." He stops for a second takes a deep breath and continues. "She told me she would, and I quote, 'grant me the option of dying like my father did'. And I couldn't do it, I just froze."
"I should have let you shoot her a few times."
He gives me a small laugh but continues with a stern voice and I notice the unmistakable passion his eyes
" She was so adamant about being your mother, Sydney. It made me sick. You are not that woman's daughter. It almost got me killed but I couldn't let her get away with believing that."
"Thank you."
"You know I'd do anything for you."
I just smile, because I do know.
-
*Honey you are the sea upon which I float, I came here to talk I think you should know. *
-
"The feelings mutual."
We sit there for a moment, but this time it's my feet he's staring at. I thank God that I painted my toes on a whim the night before we left for Taipei and miraculously they remain a peachy red. His attention moves to my rumpled attire and then he makes it to my eyes, surveying my face for a moment. I sit in silence waiting for him to say something, anything. Because to tell the truth I don't know what to say. This handling thing, it's his job and he is much better at it then I am.
"She knew about us. It was weird, Syd, she knew you called me Vaughn, she knew we were more than your average handler and asset." He pauses and his beautiful green eyes capture mine. "She knew I was in love with you."
"I . . .umm . . .she, uh . . .you what?"
He chuckles and for some reason I don't find it quite as funny. Before I get the chance to comprehend what he said and reply, he speaks up again.
"What, did you think I was kidding earlier?"
Good question. I sit for a moment with a confused look on my face, which brings an amused smile to his lips.
"You said 'someone I love' Vaughn. Loving someone and being IN love with someone are two different things."
He looks at me questioningly.
"How so?"
"Well, I love Will, but I am most certainly not IN love with him."
I catch the repressed sigh that escapes his mouth and restrain myself from laughing.
"So, Sydney, who are you IN love with?"
He is flirting with me. Michael Vaughn is flirting with me. And to think this whole thing started with me threatening to shoot down his door.
-
*Green eyes, you're the one I wanted to find Anyone who tried to deny you must be out of their mind'
-
"Well, there is this guy."
"Do I know him?"
"Yeah, you do." A playful smile pulls at my lips. I realize that I never smile nearly as much as I do when I am with him. Funny, really, seeing as we aren't even supposed to like each other at all. "He's a really great guy, always there when I need him. And that is quite a bit."
He chuckles again. And I think I just may be getting addicted to that chuckle.
"Is that so."
"Oh yeah. He's good looking too, tall and handsome, a great smile and those eyes . . .they're this amazing green."
I notice he is blushing profusely and staring at his hands. I let out my own chuckle.
"And I think he likes me too . . ."
"He does." His answer is quick and catches me off guard. "A lot. How could he not fall head over heels for a gorgeous girl like you?"
All right, my turn to blush. I get compliments daily on my appearance, but that's 'call girl Sydney' and 'spoiled rotten snob Sydney'. It's not often that 'regular Sydney' gets called gorgeous. I quickly regain my composure.
"But there's this thing called protocol. It's a pain in the ass and seems to have gotten in the way of anything that could . . ."
He interrupts.
"Will."
"Excuse me, anything that will happen between us. And as much as I want to say to hell with protocol . . ."
"He won't. Because he knows that if anything happens he's a goner. Just once could never be just once for them. And that would get her killed which would strictly violate his duties as handler."
He stops and looks at me, letting his smile grow even wider.
"But when it's all over, when the devil is put to his grave, he promises to 'handle' her properly."
That's it. I can't stand it anymore and burst out laughing. I am laughing so hard I am almost crying. I haven't laughed that hard in a long time. He just watches me, not laughing at what he said but at my laughter.
He chokes out a "What?"
"It's just that, I've never met flirty Vaughn before."
"Oh well, all the stuffing you in my trunk, breaking into the Vatican and almost dying doesn't really allow much time for flirting."
"Then I guess we'll have to make time."
He gives me a playful smile, which I gladly return. I so wasn't kidding about those eyes. They are so green; I've never seen anything like it. And when he looks at me, not just out of the corner of his eye in the park somewhere or at a meeting in the task force, I mean really looks at me, something changes. The green becomes full of concern, friendship, what I now know is love and a spark of hope. And suddenly it dawns on me. I never returned his brave sentiment. I mean, I danced around it, but I never really said the words.
"So, Sydney, are you sure your okay about . . ."
"I'm in love with you."
"What?"
"Well, I know it was implied, but I never said the words. I am in love with you Michael."
His face is plastered with shock, and for a moment I am confused as to why. Did he really not know that I felt the same way?
"What?"
"I think that's the second time today you called me Michael."
I let out a laugh and nod my head.
"Actually, I think it's the second time *ever*."
"Does it bother you that I call you Vaughn?"
"Not at all, I don't think anyone has ever made my last name sound so, I don't know, personal. Plus, I have a feeling that the only time you'll use Michael is when your really upset with me, or your trying to tell me something extremely important and personal, or when . . ."
He stops and suddenly turns red. I realize where the conversation was going and I smile.
"I think your right about that." He lets out a sigh of relief that I am not offended by the implications, and his smile returns. "So, you were saying? Before I so rudely interrupted you."
"You can rudely interrupt me whenever you like." He smiles one last time before turning serious again. " I just want to make sure you're really ok about . . ." He stops momentarily searching for the right words. "About her. I know you are going to completely shoot this down like it is nothing, but even though neither of us would like to admit it, technically, or biologically I should say, she was your mother. And you killed her."
-
*Cause I came here with a load, And it feels so much lighter now that I met you*
-
I stop for a moment looking at him, trying to formulate the right words to convince him that I am in fact serious about my feelings on the subject. On a whim I scoot closer and put my arm around his waist, laying my head on his shoulder.
"I understand that it may seem odd to everyone that I am indifferent towards the situation, that I just treated her death as if she was another guard who got in my way. But Vaughn, I loved my mother. I idolized her for almost thirty years. And I want to remember her as the gentle schoolteacher, good wife and mother I thought she was. I do not want to remember her as the woman who killed nearly twenty CIA agents, mainly your father. I have to separate the two for my own sanity. Otherwise I would probably spend my time concentrating on the what-if's, which I am not fond of doing."
I finish my long-winded speech and look up to find him gazing down upon me, those amazing green eyes full of love, and dare I say passion. With that thought, I just cannot stand it any longer. I can resist in a government office full of colleagues, I can resist in our dark, secluded warehouse and I can resist at a rave where he is tastefully sporting a lovely leather jacket. But not today, not here in his room.
-
*Honey you are a rock, upon which I stand. *
-
Slowly, I lean in and close me eyes, fully aware that I just may be making the biggest mistake of my life.
-
-
-
***I know, I know, the suspense is killing you. I was going to end it here, I had planned on only having 5 chapters, but I realized that I like this plot too much for that. So I am giving myself an extra day or two to try and come up with some clever continuation. If not, 6 will be the last chapter.
***PLEASE REVIEW! I know when I was first reading this stuff I never bothered to give a review, but now that I finally gave in and started writing my own fic I am thrilled to receive reviews praising my work. I mean really, it gets me grinning from ear to ear. So go ahead, make my day. Let me know what you think!
***If anyone was wondering, the song is "Green Eyes' by Coldplay for all of you who haven't already read a fanfic using the song . . .
***Also, I am sorry about Weiss's minimal, boring role in this chapter, I just cannot seem to fully capture his character. A wise man once said 'all I am is your conduit to Vaughn', and that basically sums up his part.
***Note to reviewer concerned with the authenticity of Vaughn's crying in 'Say the Word': I was not trying to imply that he was 'crying', per-say, but simply attempting to express the pain he was going through. One cannot stop tears from forming when your life is in the hands of your fathers murderer and certain things have been left unsaid to everyone's favorite spy, no? I thought I would justify that because I too at first questioned including that aspect, but in the end finally decided to go with it.
***I HATE the title of this story. You will understand the meaning behind it upon finishing this particular chapter, but I wanted to use something a little more appropriate. Sorry just doesn't seem to work. Let me know if you have any ideas . . .
***And of course, this would not be an Alias story without reference to the mystery that is 47. So here ya go. Enjoy!
***I do not own Alias or any of its characters.
-
-
-
I spot Weiss's car and park ten to the left. He doesn't turn to look at me, but sticks a key into a mail box and before closing it lets a piece of paper hang out. He shuts it and begins up the stairs. The clock reads 12:46.
So here I am. Vaughn's apartment complex. It's odd, being here, where he is just Michael Vaughn, not Agent Michael Vaughn.
Now that I think about it, Francie and I actually considered renting here. Francie liked the view of the room we have now better. If we had moved here, I could see Vaughn outside of work every day. It's not like they could make either of us move or anything. Damn Francie.
This is not how I imagined visiting Vaughn's apartment. There had been more smiles and nervous laughter than frowns and worried curses.
Why the hell is he doing this to me? I wonder if he ever stopped to think, 'if I don't show up to work today, what is Sydney going to do'? Does he honestly think he's the only one here with sleepless nights?
The clock finally flicks to12: 47.
Checking for tails one last time; I grab my purse and open the door. I walk past the mailboxes and read 203J off the box Weiss marked. I want to run up the stairs and burst through the door, but the neighbors might think it odd that a woman they had never seen was bounding into Vaughn's apartment. After what seems like hours I reach 203J. Taking a deep breath I open the door.
"Hey! How have you been?"
I smile giddily at Weiss and then turn to shut the door. Before he can reply to my sugarcoated greeting I throw down my purse.
"Where's his room."
"Second door to the left."
I want to take the time and absorb everything in here, but instead I leap down the hallway and start banging on his door.
-
*Honey you are a rock, upon which I stand. And I come here to talk, I hope you understand. *
-
"Vaughn open the door!"
Nothing.
"Vaughn! I don't know what the hell is wrong with you but you are going to open that door and get your ass out here."
Nothing. My voice is stern and I feel like a parent scolding their child.
"You and I both know I can pick this lock in under 15 seconds so I suggest you open the door before I have to do it myself."
I hear a muffled cough from Weiss's seat on a barstool in the kitchen in an attempt to get my attention.
"There's a chair against the doorknob."
You have got to be kidding me.
"You wedged a chair against the door? What are you, ten?"
He is still not answering me. I really did not think it would take this long to get him out of there.
"All right then, that's fine. Ill just shoot the door down. I wonder what your neighbors would think of that. Gunshots in the middle of the day can raise a few eyebrows."
Of course I'm kidding, it's all just to get a rise out of him. And it is not working as I planned. I soften my voice because yelling isn't doing it.
"Vaughn? Vaughn, I need you to open the door for me. You don't have to talk I just. . . I want to see you."
I hear movement inside the room. But its just on the bed, the door is still wedged shut. Something is seriously wrong, and I don't know what to do.
"Um . . .Weiss?"
He looks up at me from the kitchen and nods his head.
"You'll call me if . . ."
"Of course."
"Good luck Sydney."
"Thank you."
He gives me one last glance and the leaves.
"Vaughn? Did you hear that? Weiss left, it's just me now. Please, just open the door? Or at least say something."
Nothing.
"Vaughn? Please?"
Still nothing. I notice that my voice has gotten a little uneven. I laugh a little at myself.
"Do you hear what this is doing to me Vaughn? I can travel around the world and effortlessly steal from the rich and famous, but I have to remind myself to breathe straight right now."
Another shift.
"Alright, be a baby about it. You are acting so immature!" I notice a slight change in the pitch of my voice again but I can't help it. "You act so brave, so strong, but you don't even have the courage to let me in your room! And the fact that you won't talk to me isn't helping either. I can't help you unless you tell me what's wrong!"
-
*Green eyes, yeah the spark light shines upon you How could anybody deny you? *
-
I am appalled to find tears forming in my eyes. I did not intend on crying. I am not the one who is in trouble this time. My hands immediately fly up to my eyes and rub the tears away.
"Vaughn, please? Do you hear this? Do you hear me! I'm crying damnit!" Now I find that nearly all of my sentences end with a sniffle. I slowly sink to the ground leaning against his door. "You can't do this to me; you can't push me away! You're.you're me rock and I'm trying to return the favor but you won't even let me!"
Another shift. But no words. Suddenly it dawns on me why I might not be the person he wants to talk to right now. And my eyes grow painfully dry.
"Oh God Vaughn, I'm so sorry. I know I look like her, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Will you please just . . ."
Theres another shift, but this one comes from the door. The chair.
I immediately jump to my feet and find the doorknob is loose. I open it slowly and gaze upon something I thought I would never see. His room is a light green with a darker trim. All of his furniture is a deep oak and there is a large window on the far wall. It's a fairly large room, and finally my eyes find him sitting with his back to the headboard staring at his feet. His sheets are all white, and the downy comforter is dented where he sits. I notice it's the first time I've seen him outside of work attire (which ranges from a suit, janitor jumpers, and the lone leather jacket). He is wearing black sweats and an over-used king's T-shirt, no socks on his feet. I would smile if it weren't for the lost look on his face.
I notice for the first time that I have taken off my shoes and removed my suit jacket. I still feel insanely over dressed. But I guess now is not the time to be concerned with attire.
I walk nonchalantly over to the bed and sit mirroring his position, staring at my feet as well. And I am shocked to finally hear his voice.
"You don't look like her."
"You don't think so?"
"Not even a little."
He acknowledges my presence for the first time and flashes me a weak smile. It's a smile none the less.
"You know, this isn't how I imagined you visiting my apartment for the first time."
"Me neither. But I didn't really have a choice, did i."
He frowns and turns his gaze to an imaginary spot on the comforter.
"I didn't mean to worry you."
"Well you did."
"I'm sorry."
"It's a little to late for that now isn't it."
"It's really not a big deal Sydney."
Ok that was uncalled for. I move my head so I am staring right at him, silently willing him to face me.
"Not a big deal? It was big enough to leave me out there at your door for half an hour near tears!"
"Sydney, I didn't mean to. . ."
"No Vaughn! You scared me to death! When dad told me you hadn't contacted him I thought you could have been dead! Do you understand that? I had no idea what was wrong with you! Do you honestly think you're the only one who worries here? There are times I can't sleep at night too. Do you have any idea how hard it is to know your very existence puts someone you love in danger?"
Oh good Lord. I did not just say that. I can feel my expression drop and I suddenly jerk my head in the other direction.
"Well you didn't make someone you love kill their mother!"
Not only did he ignore and reciprocate my huge slip, but he snapped at me. I cannot believe *he* just snapped at *me*.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard what I said Sydney. Because I am a coward you put about seven bullet holes in your mother."
The venom in his voice is insane. I cannot suppress my laughter.
"What? What the *hell* is so funny?"
"You are ridiculous Vaughn. Do you hear yourself?"
"I am serious Syd."
"Well I haven't a clue why. Laura Bristow died in a car accident thirty years ago. The woman I killed in Taipei was Irina Derevko. They are two very different people."
-
*I came here with a load and it feels so much lighter now that I met you Honey you should know I could never go on without you. *
-
He shakes his head and returns his gaze to the imaginary spot.
"You know what I . . ."
"I don't care what you meant. That woman was nothing to me."
For the first time, he looks me straight in the eye. I speak up when he decides not to reply.
"Plus, I don't give a damn if it was the Pope himself, there was a gun pointed at your heart. I would never let you die Vaughn, never. When I saw you on the other side of that glass, my heart stopped." I look away from him and my voice gets softer. "I tried so hard to break the glass. I knew it wouldn't but I tried just the same. I couldn't leave, I couldn't let you go, not like that."
"It's not your fault. I have been avoiding my treadmill for quite some time now.""
Somehow by the way his T-shirt falls on his chest, I find that hard to believe. But I laugh anyway.
"So . . .are you gonna tell me what she said or are we going to sit here all day."
"Well actually . . ."
"Vaughn . . ."
He laughs a bit at himself, but gets quiet after a moment. He scratches at the invisible spot and hesitates before answering my request.
"She was so . . . sarcastic at first, everything she said was so smug. Every word was so planned, as if she knew it would get to me. But then I said something about her not being your mother, and she snapped. Her eyes, they went cold. She mentioned my father." He stops for a second takes a deep breath and continues. "She told me she would, and I quote, 'grant me the option of dying like my father did'. And I couldn't do it, I just froze."
"I should have let you shoot her a few times."
He gives me a small laugh but continues with a stern voice and I notice the unmistakable passion his eyes
" She was so adamant about being your mother, Sydney. It made me sick. You are not that woman's daughter. It almost got me killed but I couldn't let her get away with believing that."
"Thank you."
"You know I'd do anything for you."
I just smile, because I do know.
-
*Honey you are the sea upon which I float, I came here to talk I think you should know. *
-
"The feelings mutual."
We sit there for a moment, but this time it's my feet he's staring at. I thank God that I painted my toes on a whim the night before we left for Taipei and miraculously they remain a peachy red. His attention moves to my rumpled attire and then he makes it to my eyes, surveying my face for a moment. I sit in silence waiting for him to say something, anything. Because to tell the truth I don't know what to say. This handling thing, it's his job and he is much better at it then I am.
"She knew about us. It was weird, Syd, she knew you called me Vaughn, she knew we were more than your average handler and asset." He pauses and his beautiful green eyes capture mine. "She knew I was in love with you."
"I . . .umm . . .she, uh . . .you what?"
He chuckles and for some reason I don't find it quite as funny. Before I get the chance to comprehend what he said and reply, he speaks up again.
"What, did you think I was kidding earlier?"
Good question. I sit for a moment with a confused look on my face, which brings an amused smile to his lips.
"You said 'someone I love' Vaughn. Loving someone and being IN love with someone are two different things."
He looks at me questioningly.
"How so?"
"Well, I love Will, but I am most certainly not IN love with him."
I catch the repressed sigh that escapes his mouth and restrain myself from laughing.
"So, Sydney, who are you IN love with?"
He is flirting with me. Michael Vaughn is flirting with me. And to think this whole thing started with me threatening to shoot down his door.
-
*Green eyes, you're the one I wanted to find Anyone who tried to deny you must be out of their mind'
-
"Well, there is this guy."
"Do I know him?"
"Yeah, you do." A playful smile pulls at my lips. I realize that I never smile nearly as much as I do when I am with him. Funny, really, seeing as we aren't even supposed to like each other at all. "He's a really great guy, always there when I need him. And that is quite a bit."
He chuckles again. And I think I just may be getting addicted to that chuckle.
"Is that so."
"Oh yeah. He's good looking too, tall and handsome, a great smile and those eyes . . .they're this amazing green."
I notice he is blushing profusely and staring at his hands. I let out my own chuckle.
"And I think he likes me too . . ."
"He does." His answer is quick and catches me off guard. "A lot. How could he not fall head over heels for a gorgeous girl like you?"
All right, my turn to blush. I get compliments daily on my appearance, but that's 'call girl Sydney' and 'spoiled rotten snob Sydney'. It's not often that 'regular Sydney' gets called gorgeous. I quickly regain my composure.
"But there's this thing called protocol. It's a pain in the ass and seems to have gotten in the way of anything that could . . ."
He interrupts.
"Will."
"Excuse me, anything that will happen between us. And as much as I want to say to hell with protocol . . ."
"He won't. Because he knows that if anything happens he's a goner. Just once could never be just once for them. And that would get her killed which would strictly violate his duties as handler."
He stops and looks at me, letting his smile grow even wider.
"But when it's all over, when the devil is put to his grave, he promises to 'handle' her properly."
That's it. I can't stand it anymore and burst out laughing. I am laughing so hard I am almost crying. I haven't laughed that hard in a long time. He just watches me, not laughing at what he said but at my laughter.
He chokes out a "What?"
"It's just that, I've never met flirty Vaughn before."
"Oh well, all the stuffing you in my trunk, breaking into the Vatican and almost dying doesn't really allow much time for flirting."
"Then I guess we'll have to make time."
He gives me a playful smile, which I gladly return. I so wasn't kidding about those eyes. They are so green; I've never seen anything like it. And when he looks at me, not just out of the corner of his eye in the park somewhere or at a meeting in the task force, I mean really looks at me, something changes. The green becomes full of concern, friendship, what I now know is love and a spark of hope. And suddenly it dawns on me. I never returned his brave sentiment. I mean, I danced around it, but I never really said the words.
"So, Sydney, are you sure your okay about . . ."
"I'm in love with you."
"What?"
"Well, I know it was implied, but I never said the words. I am in love with you Michael."
His face is plastered with shock, and for a moment I am confused as to why. Did he really not know that I felt the same way?
"What?"
"I think that's the second time today you called me Michael."
I let out a laugh and nod my head.
"Actually, I think it's the second time *ever*."
"Does it bother you that I call you Vaughn?"
"Not at all, I don't think anyone has ever made my last name sound so, I don't know, personal. Plus, I have a feeling that the only time you'll use Michael is when your really upset with me, or your trying to tell me something extremely important and personal, or when . . ."
He stops and suddenly turns red. I realize where the conversation was going and I smile.
"I think your right about that." He lets out a sigh of relief that I am not offended by the implications, and his smile returns. "So, you were saying? Before I so rudely interrupted you."
"You can rudely interrupt me whenever you like." He smiles one last time before turning serious again. " I just want to make sure you're really ok about . . ." He stops momentarily searching for the right words. "About her. I know you are going to completely shoot this down like it is nothing, but even though neither of us would like to admit it, technically, or biologically I should say, she was your mother. And you killed her."
-
*Cause I came here with a load, And it feels so much lighter now that I met you*
-
I stop for a moment looking at him, trying to formulate the right words to convince him that I am in fact serious about my feelings on the subject. On a whim I scoot closer and put my arm around his waist, laying my head on his shoulder.
"I understand that it may seem odd to everyone that I am indifferent towards the situation, that I just treated her death as if she was another guard who got in my way. But Vaughn, I loved my mother. I idolized her for almost thirty years. And I want to remember her as the gentle schoolteacher, good wife and mother I thought she was. I do not want to remember her as the woman who killed nearly twenty CIA agents, mainly your father. I have to separate the two for my own sanity. Otherwise I would probably spend my time concentrating on the what-if's, which I am not fond of doing."
I finish my long-winded speech and look up to find him gazing down upon me, those amazing green eyes full of love, and dare I say passion. With that thought, I just cannot stand it any longer. I can resist in a government office full of colleagues, I can resist in our dark, secluded warehouse and I can resist at a rave where he is tastefully sporting a lovely leather jacket. But not today, not here in his room.
-
*Honey you are a rock, upon which I stand. *
-
Slowly, I lean in and close me eyes, fully aware that I just may be making the biggest mistake of my life.
-
-
-
***I know, I know, the suspense is killing you. I was going to end it here, I had planned on only having 5 chapters, but I realized that I like this plot too much for that. So I am giving myself an extra day or two to try and come up with some clever continuation. If not, 6 will be the last chapter.
***PLEASE REVIEW! I know when I was first reading this stuff I never bothered to give a review, but now that I finally gave in and started writing my own fic I am thrilled to receive reviews praising my work. I mean really, it gets me grinning from ear to ear. So go ahead, make my day. Let me know what you think!
***If anyone was wondering, the song is "Green Eyes' by Coldplay for all of you who haven't already read a fanfic using the song . . .