The Way It Should Be

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:

Oh my god people… I can't believe you guys are actually reading! Thanks so much, your support has given me inspiration to pop out the next chapter… hope you enjoy it~

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:

2.

Flashback

The strange thing was that he actually felt like whistling as he made his way up the small path towards the door. It was strange having that emotion there hanging over him… only it wasn't hanging; if anything it floated over him.

He hadn't felt this peaceful in a long time. It was as if he was finally sure of his place in the world. His place with her.

Michael knocked on the door, pressing his weight back on his heels, barely able to suppress the soft smile that overcame his features as he waited for her to come out with that slight glint in her eye that made him strain to believe that there had ever been any sadness in her life at all. It was nice to believe that he was the cause of her smiles.

Santa Barbara was waiting with its cool breeze and the balcony that was already calling their name from the top floor of the hotel. La Superica. Beach-side. He had been there three times so far but always on business and had always wondered what it would be like to be on the top. What it would be like to have a reason to ask for the room on the top floor, the one with its icy marble balcony and the lightweight white curtains… what it would be like to have someone so special that that would be the only room that would be able to suit.

And now he had it.

Brow furrowing slightly, he rang the doorbell, wondering if at least Francie would answer if Syd was busy primping or packing.

After a few more moments, his forehead wrinkled with an emotion that he could not yet identify. For some reason there was a fear that gripped his heart even though he knew that Sydney was perfectly able to take care of herself. Something told him that things were not right.

All thoughts of Santa Barbara flew from his mind as he turned to count the cars in the driveway.

It was then that he noticed the way the light bounced off a shard of glass lying there peacefully on the grass. He stepped off the stairs and bent down to pick it up only to find that there were many more pieces of glass littering the small yard, making it sparkle with a kind of gruesome beauty.

He followed the trail until he reached the window at the side of the apartment and stopped. It was as if all emotion had been drained from him. He lifted a hand to the jagged edges of what once had been a window and lightly ran a finger over the scraped edges as if doing so would somehow bring Sydney running back to him.

He pulled his finger back as he felt the sudden prick of pain run through his body and end as a spot of pure red blood dotting his finger. With that blood staring back at him, he suddenly remembered what it was and total panic overcame him and he looked through into the room and saw the destruction that lay there waiting for him to see.

Swallowing hard, he backed away, filled with an urgency that he only ever felt in those lonely nights when she was on duty in some foreign country… too far for him to hold or comfort. Those nights where he was unable to sleep, as if his blinking eyes and haggard breathing could keep her alive somehow.

He found himself and rushed towards the door, turning the knob for the first time. The door gently swung open and the whole picture was staring him in the face. Nothing was hidden, not the shards of glass and china that were scattered across the wooden floor, not the broken table and the clear indications of a fight that had used the entire house as its terrain, not the sole lamp that stood in the middle of the room, as upright as it ever had been shining its light in the dimness of the room.

Michael's barely beating yet simultaneously jumping heart stilled as he saw a puddle of liquid on the floor but as he took a step towards it, he saw that it was light brown. Upon sniffing it, he discovered that it was coffee ice cream.

"Syd?" His voice was wary and broken even as his body tensed now in waiting. If Sydney wasn't here and her attacker still was… he stood upright, grabbed a hold of his cell phone and pressed speed dial #4.

"Kendall."

"This is Agent Vaughn, I am at Agent Bristow's house and there seems to be serious disturbance- a fight—I don't know exactly. I need men here right now."

There was a hesitation that conveyed a thousand unasked questions before Kendall's voice came through again. "Done."

"Soon. As fast as you can."

"I'm aware of what 'soon' is, Agent Vaughn. ETA 15 minutes."

He hung up but, on a whim, pressed another button. And heard the familiar resulting sound of Sydney's cell phone ring coming from the room; he pulled out his gun from his shoulder holster before bending down to pick up the ringing object.

Turning his own phone off, he quickly dialed the number to access Sydney's messages. Hoping against hope that there was something there.

As it rang in his ear, he slowly made his way to the hallway, striding in long steps while his heart screamed.

One message was from a Mary Beth. He attached the headphones to the phone before proceeding.

The bedroom door had been kicked; he could see the splinters that ran along the length of it, ending in a jagged edge that for some reason put the fear of God into him. He dialed the next number as he took a deep breath and entered the doorway. Despite what he had already seen, the state of the room shocked him and still managed to spread a thrill of fear throughout his system.

But not more than the sight of Francie Calfo lying strewn on the grown in a mangled heap. Clenching his jaw in order to keep it from dropping, he raced towards her side, noting the beads of sweat that dotted her face along with the blood that spattered and spread from three large bullet holes. As if she had been exercising at the time of death.

When Will's harried voice entered his ears from the headphones, his blood turned to ice. "Syd… I know you're not going to believe this but… I just found provacillium in the bathroom." His fingers trembled as the pieces came together and, almost jerking, he stepped away from her body.

Francie had been the double. He couldn't believe the irony. "I want Francie to be assigned to a protective detail. If Sloane is targeting my friends, she could be next."

His head whipped around, tracing the battle with his mind and his eyes, looking at the destruction that skewed the room until the saw the mirror.

The jagged pieces scattered across the polished wood. And made a clear outline of a body.

His arms began to tremble as he realized that Sydney was not in the house, not any longer. Kneeling down, he touched his hand to the spot where her body had lain.

It was still warm.

His body was already compartmentalizing the emotions that raged his system as he began to lose control. The gun dropped from his limp fingers as he realized that the enemy, the danger, was not in the house anymore. The last strains of Will's message began to die away. "Just listen to me… I think that the double is Fran-"

There was a beep.

End of messages.

He heard the distant sound of cars parking in front of the house. And though he had only walked through two of the rooms, the deepest portions of his heart told him that there was no use. Every single room would be in the same state of despair. Every single room would be empty of the one thing he was looking for.

Slumping towards the bed, he placed his head in his hands, eyes shut tightly in complete denial of what had been so rudely snatched away from him.

But at the sound of guns cocking and the door being pushed open, he stood, his eyes suddenly dry. Bending, he picked up the gun and walked out of the room and away from the stiffening body. He had to find her and it was not too late.

And even if it was, it wouldn't matter. Because eventually he would find her; that's how the story had to end. Otherwise, it wasn't over. She was waiting for him.

As he walked out into the yard and ended up face to face with Jack Bristow, his gaze told him everything he needed to know. Jack's shoulders visibly fell and he stopped moving for a second.

"Agent Vaughn, what happened?" Kendall's voice was behind him.

"Will Tippin was not the double; Francie Calfo was."

Jack's surprise was nearly audible.

"Tippin found provacillium in the bathroom and called Sydney to warn her. By the time she found out, it was too late. They fought through the entire apartment and now Francie's dead in the bedroom, three bullet holes to her torso." Until then, his voice had been mechanical, his words a spouting of facts. Now- now he paused, unable to voice the words that would be the birth of his fears.

Kendall paused, understanding the implication but unable to circumvent the question. "And Agent Bristow?"

He swallowed heavily.

"She's gone."

TBC…

You know the drill—thanks for any feedback~ sorry for those of you who wanted this chapter to be a direct continuation of the preceding one but I'll get there. I promise.

I just thought I'd fill in some of the gaps.

For those of you who are waiting for updates for my other fics. ::blushes with embarrassment at the long wait::…here's what I'm planning for the next lineup of updates:

Remembrance chapter 5 Vivian Heights chapter 5 (I'm revamping this one so that it is also Post "The Telling" but will be a VERY different storyline… Guess who Vaughn's married too?) A Lesson in Humility chapter 5

Hopefully I'll get around to other older fics once Gracie is sufficiently rested; until then, I'll try to keep this one coming strong.

An Undefinable Sweetness is complete! It's like the end of an era! (For me at least.)

I'm blabbing.

Leave me love,

~Jenn