Strike a Match Ending Three~

But this is the way it really happened…

"I choose bachelor number… two!"

Two was Nunzeo. I knew it. I felt it. It was true.

No matter what my true desires were, what my heart told me to do; I had to complete the mission. I had to bring down SD-6. If not for me, then for Danny and Vaughn and all the others who lost their lives to the demon.

I could go through the details of what happened next, but I don't want to bore you, so I'll give you the quick version.

Pearly Whites= Sark

Emerald Eyes= Vaughn.

Sydney Bristow= The single most oblivious and moronic spy to ever grace the planet.

My reaction to this scenario?

Let's just say that my first thought when I saw Sark's face was, "That damn son of a…"

My first thought when I heard Vaughn's name, "Mental note: Call the repair man to fix the dent in my bedroom desk that will soon be created due to numerous head bangings in the very, very near future."

I managed to calm myself down enough to be happy that phase one of the mission was completed, but that didn't mean I wasn't exuberant and bewildered at Vaughn's appearance.

I had no idea how I could face him again. But, judging by his absence for the past weeks, I wouldn't have to worry about that.

 Hong Kong Buffet, Los Angeles~ That night

"So, how did you get involved with marine biology?" Angel asked over his lo mein.

I twirled a strand of "my" long black hair. The wig was beginning to itch and it was burning my scalp.

"Oh, I don't know. Just grew on me, you know? He he," I answered in the high pitched, giggling voice I'd reserved for my character.

This is the way the night had preceded. He'd ask some "personal" question, and I would giggle and give a ditzy response, one which never really answered his inquiry.

Example:

"Lizzie, what's you favorite movie?"

"Hmm…" (More hair twirling and a deep-in-thought expression) "Dawson's Creek."

***

Finally, he led me outside.

Grinning widely, I grabbed his wrist. My hand felt the same way it would if I had been tossing out a dead rat by its tail.

"Let's go somewhere… more private," I whispered, feeling sick.

We ducked into an alleyway and after a simple bat of the eyes; I had him in my manipulation. That was too easy. I'd hate to have to think of the kind of agent he must've made.

"I want to tell you something…" I cooed.

He leaned in closer, and I belted him in the stomach. I pulled a set of hand cuffs out of my purse and locked his hands in them.

"What the hell?!" he exclaimed.

"Did you really believe I was a marine biologist, Angel Nunzeo? Well, sorry, I'm not you're girl. But there's plenty of other fish in the sea," I winced, pained at the horrible pun I'd just made.

I sighed, shook my head, and knocked him unconscious. He'd be out for a few hours.

This time, [i]he[/i] was the dead drop. That's right. I put him in the dumpster.

Quigley… (Ahem. Wheeze. Choke. Gag.)

Oh, sorry. I had a piece of dim-sun caught in my throat…

Anyway, Quigley would come disguised as a trash man in five minutes or so to retrieve Angel and take him into CIA custody. I had a cover story to tell SD-6 as to why I'd failed to get Nunzeo.

I pulled off the wig and threw it out as well, then headed back to the outside of the restaurant.

I gasped.

Vaughn was walking down the sidewalk.

He saw me.

He smiled and came towards me.

What did he think he was doing?

"Hey… aren't you the girl I was on the show with today?" he asked casually.

 What…

"Yes… Lizzie Cohen…" I answered, confused.

"Michael Vaughn. Excuse me for asking, but wasn't your hair darker this morning?"

I nodded, now not as unsure. "Yeah- I like to experiment with the color."

"Ah." He tried to look surprised at the fact that I was alone. "Date with the winner not go so well?"

"You could say that. He um… he had a trashy personality."

What was is with the God damned puns tonight?

Vaughn laughed. "Oh… well, if you're free now, do you want to go do something? I know you ate but maybe we can catch a movie. I know I didn't win but…"

"Oh, it's fine. I'd love to."

We began to walk the three blocks towards the movie theater.

Once we were out of anyone's view, he took my hand. "So… what are we seeing?"

Apparently, he's not one to talk about work in these situations. Good. Me either.

"Um… if you're in the mood for something immature, 'Stealing Harvard' is out."

He chuckled. "The movie with that guy from 'Mallrats'?"

I gave him an unclear look.

"Weiss loves that movie," he added quickly.

"Ah. Didn't see you as that type of guy."

"I'm not. Mallrats is okay but… it is so unrealistic."

"Why is that?"

"This girl goes on a dating game show and the guy who really likes her goes on with a fake name and ends up with her at the end. That kind of thing never happens in real life." He sent me a wink.

I laughed.

Is this what the slogan meant by "choose your fate"?

I hope so.

We didn't know what would happen next, or if it would be good or bad; if it would be easy or hard. We just knew it would be.

I guess we'd just have to tune in next time for "Strike a Match," California's most popular dating game.

THE END (FOR REAL, THIS TIME. SERIOUSLY.)

A/N: So, this story's come a pretty good distance since I first posted it in August. Honestly, I had no idea it would do this well. I thought it would be shrugged off and shoved to the back page. But I was proved wrong, and I'm really happy about that. (Even though I still have no idea why people liked this. Lol) Thank you to everyone who read this and enjoyed it and a special thanks to Penny and Elyse for helping me out tons with some of the plot lines. (Penny- did you like your "Mallrats" ending?)