-First and foremost thank you SO MUCH for the fantastic reviews! Keep them coming!

-OK, before you read this chapter, you have to understand my point of view. Due to the finale I am angry, therefore making Sydney angry. I know that she may or may not have reacted the way I have written, but that's what fanfic's for, right? And also, Vaughn is like, the worst husband ever in this story. But by the time I get to the main plot it will make more sense. And if not, keep in mind that she IS NOT SYDNEY therefore he I cannot allow him to express any feelings of intimacy or compassion towards the woman because it is impossible for me to right. Don't blame me, my fingers just won't type it. So there you go.

-Alright, I know that I said that most of the quotes would be from Evanescence, but I threw a few in from Coldplay, because, well, I love them. Enjoy:)

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Oh no, I see . . . This spider web is tangled up with me . . . And I lost my head . . . At the thought of all the stupid things I'd said . . . -Coldplay, Trouble

*

As she pulled her new black CIA issued jeep up to the warehouse, she silently laughed when at the sight of his car waiting for her. He had always been there before she had, no matter how fast she drove. And on most occasions, she had broken the every damn speed limit to get here. She never had been one to follow the rules.

The entire drive here she had fought with herself over weather or not she should have called him. He had told her once that whenever she needed to talk, she had his number. But things were different now, she was no longer his top priority. He had a . . .

He had a wife.

The word still stung, and nearly brought tears to her eyes. She wondered what all she knew about his occupation, if he had said anything about her. How could he have explained rushing off in the middle of the night? The thing was, she didn't feel guilty for calling him. She knew she should, that he had a new life now and wasn't at her beck and call, but she deserved this much. Who ever she was, she got to spend the rest of her life with Michael Vaughn; the least she could do was let her see him for just one night.

She saw his head snap at the sound of her footsteps in the still warehouse. It had been a long time since she had been here, ignoring the fact that she had been missing for two years. After the fall of the Alliance, there was really no need to meet at the warehouse, and she had to say that she had missed it.

When she finally reached him, he was the first to speak, and quite panicked at that.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, Vaughn, I'm fine. Well, physically speaking. I just . . . I wanted to talk. I know that I probably woke . . ."

"I wasn't sleeping. I'm glad you called me."

"I wasn't sure you would come."

"I will always come, Sydney."

And it was silent again. They both sat leaning with their backs against the desk, as they had done so often in the past. But now it was different, there were no longing glances and tentative looks, there was no wishing for what they couldn't have. The difference was, they *could * have it, and he had screwed that up.

"Weiss and I . . . we've become close."

"He told me."

"I moved into his complex tonight, he helped me unpack and we ordered Chinese . . ."

"You're favorite."

She looks over at him, a hint of surprise in her eyes. She hadn't expected him to remember such minute details.

"Yeah, it is. Well, we . . .we talked."

"About Emily."

"Well, yeah. About Emily."

She lets out a small, sarcastic laugh and he responds with a questioning look.

"I just, it's funny to think I hate someone I don't even know. I have never considered myself a jealous person, but every time I hear her name, or even the word 'wife' for that matter . . ."

"Sydney . . ."

"No, Michael, just let me talk for a minute. He told me everything that happened after I disappeared, quite descriptively at that. And when he was done, he told me that someday I would have to talk to you about this, that it was the only way to get any answers. After what he had said, I just couldn't get to sleep. So I figured that today was as good as any day."

"I'm glad you called."

"You're sure she wasn't upset?"

"She didn't even wake up."

"So what if she wakes up to find you missing?"

He stops for a moment and the wrinkles on his forehead begin to appear.

"I hadn't really thought of that."

"And to think you were a spy."

They both shared a smile, and things got silent once again. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he looked up at her.

"Sydney, do you have any idea what kind of hell I went through after that night? You were my whole world, and you were gone. Just gone. There was no mission, there was no big battle you were scheduled to take part in, there was no warning. For a while, I kept blaming myself. If only I had gone upstairs with you, I could have stopped it from happening. Eventually I figured that that theory was getting me no where. I won't go into details because I'm sure that Weiss did that for me, but you have to know that before I go to sleep and when I wake up, you're my first thought, and when I dream it's your face I see. And I *know * that it's wrong, that I'm married and I should be thinking of . . .her. But the thing is, I don't care. I don't want to stop loving you, and I don't think I can."

She just looks at him, and for the first time since she had returned she gives him a smile. Because there is nothing she can say. There are no words that would fit, because while she wants to tell him to leave his wife, that she's back and she wants him, she knows she can't do that. When it was with Alice, things had been different; there were no vows or rings.

"As much as I want to, I can't ask you to be unfaithful to your wife."

"And as much as I want you to, I know that you can't, I wouldn't be able to do that to her."

"I feel like such a horrible person for the thoughts going through my head. I am going to hell for this."

He gives her a laugh, and the fact that she isn't the one that wakes up to his smile every morning stings.

"I think you have a few freebies considering the fact that you've single handedly saved the world more than once."

"Not single handedly, you guys tell me what to do, and I just do it."

"You can never just take that as a compliment, can you?"

"I guess not."

And again, there is silence. And before she knows it, words are spilling out of her mouth before she has a chance to comprehend them.

"Can we, I don't know, get together some times? I know it's a lot to ask but I . . ."

"Sydney, I would like that. A lot. I haven't seen you in two years, I wouldn't give up and chance to spend time with you."

It is wrong. And they both know that.

He has a wife; he is a married man.

But neither seems to care. All they want is to spend time together, now what's the harm in that?

That's a question they both know the answer to. Because while it isn't as obvious as it was before, the connection between them, the passion, the look in their eyes when they are with each other, it's still there. And it's only a matter of time before they can no longer ignore that.

~

She had left a good thirty minutes ago, and he had remained another thirty after that. He sat in the silence of the warehouse, of *their * warehouse, and did what he could to try and tell himself that he was looking forward to going home to his wife. That he would go home to find her sound asleep and he would smile because *she * was the one in his bed.

But after thirty minutes he came to the conclusion that it was *ok * to have these kind of thoughts here in the warehouse. After all, it was *their * warehouse. Plus, he was well aware that he could not push Sydney from his thoughts entirely, that would just be impossible. So he made a pact with himself. He would allow himself to ponder the what-ifs, but only here. No where else would he consume himself with regret and longing and other thoughts that would betray his wife.

It took much convincing on his part, but finally he made his way out to his car. The drive home had been long and he reveled in the irony of the situation. He was leaving his *true * love for his . . .love. Because he did love his wife, he would not deny that. But it wasn't the kind of soul- consuming, passionate, blinding love he had with Sydney.

And then he told himself to shut up. Because his car was not the warehouse.

Finally he made it back to their apartment. He figured they should have owned a home by now she hadn't brought it up and he most certainly wasn't about to.

As softly as he could he unlocked the door and made his way inside, dropping his keys and wallet on the table. Silently he crept his way into their bedroom, removed his shoes and slid into to bed. And for some reason, he was shocked to hear her voice.

"You're back."

He could see her gentle smile even in the dark.

"I, uh, yeah."

Again she smiles and then turned back to the position she was in.

"Emily? Aren't you going to ask where I was?"

"I figured that if you wanted me to know, you would tell me."

After a moment of not responding he heard her yawn and presumed that she had fallen back to sleep. And while part of him was thanking God that she hadn't brought up the subject, another part of him was furious.

Why didn't she want to know?

Wasn't she curious?

If she had been the one creeping out in the middle of the night he would have jumped down her throat about it. Yet she didn't question him at all. Now, he wasn't one to start fights. But once he thought about it, they had *never * fought about *anything *. Not about movies, restaurants, work . . .come to think of it, he seemed to always get his way. At first he had just notched it up as another compatibility factor, they had the same taste in everything. But that was just *too * ironic. Wasn't it?

Before he had time to answer the question, the logical side of him kicked in. --Just consider yourself lucky Mikey, and get some damned sleep. - So he did.

*

"So."

"So."

"Still nothing?"

"Nope."

Eric Weiss sat fidgeting in his chair, trying to figure out how to word what he really wanted to ask her the right way. Not that he didn't want to know how the regression-therapy had gone, because he did. A few days after she moved into his complex she began working with the therapist. But they had made no progress at whatsoever, and her answer was the same every time he asked. And if they did have some kind of a break through, he knew she would have told him the minute she saw him.

Asking her was just his way to add filler to the conversation, to post-pone what he really intended on talking to her about. But considering the topic, he knew very well that 'talking' was not what they would be doing, and there was no way in hell she wasn't going to leave his office completely pissed off.

"Sydney?"

"Yeah?"

"I, uh, I talked to Mike the other day."

"Oh really? How is he?"

"I think you know very well how he is, considering the fact that you saw him just yesterday."

Immediately her teeth clenched and he watched as her fists slowly curled into a ball. He was used to her reacting like such when things weren't going her way.

"He told you."

"Yeah, cause, you know, that's what friends do. They tell each other when they start spending time hanging out with their married ex."

"I don't need this from you Eric."

"Well you need it from somebody."

"As a matter of fact I don't. I am perfectly capable of handling the situation on my own. And if I remember correctly, it was you who told me I needed to talk to him in the first place!"

"Sydney, meeting on a weekly basis in a clandestine warehouse for hours at a time is not the same as trying to move on! In fact, I do believe it is exactly the opposite."

"Well, I think we both know that any attempt at moving on from Vaughn would be futile. So don't give me your 'married man' crap because I am reminded daily by the RING ON HIS FINGER. I don't need you to reiterate the obvious."

"Sydney, I didn't want to start something, I'm just trying to look out for you."

"Trying to keep me away from the man I love is not helping me! And you know what, I really am NOT in the mood to be having this conversation right now. So if you'll excuse me, I have two Goddamn years to remember."

She shot him one last death stare and proceeded to stomp her way out of his office, not hesitating to slam the door on her way out.

"Yeah, well, YOU GO DO THAT."

Somehow he knew that this conversation would end with him getting his last word in with the freaking door. The thing was that whether or not she wanted to admit it, he was right. And it may take a day or two, knowing Sydney it may even be a week, but she would apologize. That's how she was, she would turn into tough-ass Sydney and spit out words and accusations only to return to her calm self shortly afterwards.

The only thing was that in time in between she was known to act . . .impulsively. And in the current circumstances that may not work out to anyone's advantage.

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-See . . . told you Syd was going to be a little on the upset side. And also, just got finished watching Two Weeks Notice so a little bit of classic Hugh Grant sarcasm may have rubbed off. Adorable movie, by the way. Now go and let me know what you thought, and I may get 7 up early tomorrow. That is if I wake up before noon . . .