OMGOMGOMG!!! Can you guys believe what happened on Alias last Sunday because I can not get over it… seriously like was jumping up and down like a crazy madwoman.

And next week is the lover's mission…sigh I can't wait…Vaughn's shirt was all unbuttoned and everything…sigh~

Hey, you guys know what else is pretty cool? This chapter is now like a month and a couple days old? How exciting is that? It's like a birthday… okay, maybe it's only exciting to me but that's okay too.

Anyway; I think maybe I'll dedicate each chapter to like 5 people because then that's fun for me and I like to do things that are fun for me… and I won't be consumed by guilt for not dedicating this to everybody… so this is for donatellaMarks, Couch (I LOVED your review), Andi Horton, Samantha, and Martha Bigglesworth.

And sorry for the long wait but the computers at my house are going absolutely CRAZY! One of them has a screwed up Microsoft Work so I can't open any document, the other doesn't like to read my disk and just is really really mean, and the other keeps changing everything into mixed up Korean.

So~ that's my story that you guys didn't really want to know but do know (If you guys are actually reading this…)

Voila~ for your reading pleasure.

22.

Vaughn clenched his jaw as he looked at Sydney; he wanted to go to her and comfort her any way he could but Jack's arm was still restraining him. What was wrong with him anyway? What kind of father would let his own daughter stay sobbing and not do anything to help?

Then again, what kind of fiancé would let his almost father-in-law stop him from comforting the woman he loved?

He would obviously.

So he sat in his seat, wishing that he could hold her and comfort her and make her stop crying. But not really being able to do anything about it.

The silence was deafening. And time moved so slowly that Vaughn was sure he could hear the pain peeling on the other side of the country. He supposed that Kendall and Jack could also and, after a few more minutes, heard Kendall clear his throat awkwardly and speak to Sydney again.

"Agent Bristow, I understand that you are feeling distressed right now but I really need you to verify this information so that we can begin trying to understand why SD-6 would want to keep Daniel Hecht and how he was able to escape. So, I will tell you what information I garnered during our conversation and you tell me if it is correct. All right?"

Her nod was almost imperceptible but Kendall saw the slight movement of the hair the fell across her face and took it for assent.

"Okay. So, you were at home because you did not have any SD-6 meetings until 3 o'clock correct?"

A slight nod.

"So then you proceeded to relax, watch a movie, order some Chinese food. Then around 12:30, the doorbell rang and you proceeded to open the door and, instead of Wong Boys, you found Danny standing in front of your apartment?"

She began to nod but then froze.

She had completely forgotten one aspect. One very, very important aspect.

". . . Standing in front of your apartment?"

". . . your apartment?"

She looked up quickly, meeting Vaughn's eyes immediately and, for once, ignored the magnetic and electrical attraction that always surged through her when their eyes met. 

Vaughn knew what question was in her eyes before he even looked up to meet them. He knew she was asking him what she should say and the truth was, he didn't have an answer. This wasn't simple; wasn't like the decision to touch his leg with hers.

Because this one involved a serious consequence.

It was time to decide. Which was more important? Their relationship or the chance to catch Danny and see what he knew and who he was connected with. Could letting Danny go help SD-6?

What were their priorities?

He saw her looking at him, her stare piercing through the hair that was everywhere in front of her face and on her shoulders and flowing over her arms, damp where the tears had hit.

She needed an answer, a suggestion, an affirmation.

But he had nothing to give.

~:~

Jack Bristow, if nothing else, was a father and, though he admitted that he was not a supremely good one, still had some of fatherhood's inherent instincts.

And, even if Kendall didn't see the electricity and tension that suddenly came into the room when Vaughn met Sydney's gaze, he could.

And he knew that it was not a good thing. More than anything, it could not be a good thing. And he knew suddenly what was wrong. The information. Sydney had left out a pivotal piece of information.

She hadn't been at her apartment. She had been somewhere she had no business being.

~:~

"Are you certain?" Sloane could barely believe his ears. Believing that Emily was alive was one thing but believing that one of his best agents, and the daughter of one of his oldest friends, was staying at the residence of a CIA agent was preposterous. His mind was already running with ideas over what could have happened.

Because more than anything, he wanted to believe in Sydney's innocence.

And he had a right to. After all, he had doubted her in the past and yet she had passed all of his tests with flying colors. With better scores than any other agent had gotten. She had earned his faith. And so, at least in his mind in the minute that he was silent, he gave it to her.

Perhaps she didn't know that he was a CIA agent. Or perhaps she, since she believed herself to be one, had never felt the need to share this information or maybe even never have had the cause to doubt his word. He was, after all, like a grandfather to her and, even after what had happened with Daniel Hecht, she had found it in her heart to forgive him and continue working for him.

She had to love him to do that.

But then he told himself to stop being an idiot. Thinking that she never ever doubted anything he said to her, considering her circumstances, was insulting her intelligence.

He looked up and saw Randy's slightly scared gaze on him. He had been silent for too long.

"Tell me how you came to this conclusion."

Randy cleared his throat. He may have been scared of Mr. Sloane, and indeed he still was, but he had anticipated at least this question and had rehearsed it enough times to get it out without a glitch.

"The only thing that we aren't 100% sure about is whether or not the Michael who gave her roses is the same Michael Vaughn who owns the house. Besides that, we are absolutely positive.

"We checked on Mr. Vaughn's background and found an extremely vague profile and, in truth, that was what tipped us off in the first place. They are always either too vague or too detailed. Government Job. So, using several high profile programs along with researching electronic newspapers for articles and obituaries of any Vaughn within a 300-block radius of N. Mead Lane in the past 50 years, we narrowed the list down to 17.

"One of which was very interesting. Nearly thirty years ago, a William Vaughn was killed, also holding a very boring government job, leaving behind a wife and a small son. And I don't think that you need to think very hard to guess what the son's name was."

Sloane looked at him until he realized that Randy expected him to answer the "rhetorical" question. "Michael," he breathed.

"Yes. And, even though that may not have been enough by itself, we then came across a very interesting story. Not published but from the mouth of one of our own agents. Agent Mindy Parker. It turns out that her family and the Vaughn family have been friends for years, the mothers especially close.

"Because of their friendship, Mrs. Vaughn lowered her guard and told her that her husband, in reality, worked for the CIA."

Sloane looked at him with steely eyes. "You should know better than to go by word of mouth Mr. Dermott."

Flushing furiously, Randy continued. "But it was a lead. One that we had to follow. And it was a good thing we did too because, after hacking into the CIA directory, we found a listing for William Vaughn. And right above it, we made another startling discovery. His son: Michael C. Vaughn. The picture was identified by Agent Parker."

"Yet this could be another Michael C. Vaughn."

Randy looked at the man sitting in front of him. He knew that his information was not faulty. And even though there was a chance that the two Michael Vaughns did not match, the odds were very very low. "Sir, the age range, residence, and the names match."

"Was there an address listed on that directory, Mr. Dermott?"

"No sir."

"All right then. Thank you for your time." He made a motion with his hand towards the door as he picked up the phone.

Randy Dermott could not get out of the office fast enough.

He even forgot to ask about what to do with the Hecht situation.

Sloane waited until the door was closed before speaking into the phone. "I need to see Agent Sydney Bristow right now."

~:~

He sat on the bench, forgetting for a moment how relaxing it was to just sit. To relish every moment, to love the freedom of taking a step. Or to love someone.

He tossed a few crumbs at the pigeons that were apparently keeping him company. A mindless thing to do really. He had never understood the allure of feeding birds in a park. But he did now. Like he thought, it was a mindless thing to do. But it was something to do and it was easy and it gave him time to think.

Was it really worth it to love someone who doesn't love you back?

He knew that he had changed; that he was no longer the sweet doctor that he had been. But he wasn't lying when he had said that he could be that doctor once more. He knew that he could. But he did need her help. And he did love her.

And he wasn't lying when he said that she was the only thing keeping him sane either. That was true. The memory of her laugh or smile or even just the picture of her face was enough to lead him through the pain and to the next day.

If only he could have explained it better.

If only she would understand.

He could understand himself perfectly. And she had always been smarter than he was.

And that's when he felt the rage again. The same rage that had caused her to grab her and to kiss her. The person inside that he despised, finally finding a way to get out.

He didn't have to be a victim again. How could she love someone she had known for maybe a year more than she had loved him? They had dated for years before he proposed; how long had she mourned him after he died to her? How long had she kept him in her memory?

He could understand her dating again. But to promise to spend the rest of her life with another man. . . that drove him crazy.

He stood up suddenly.

No. No, he didn't love her. He couldn't love her. He wouldn't love her.

She was nothing to him.

He crossed the street with this resolve, the knowledge that he had the willpower to defeat love.

But it crumbled as soon as he reached the other side. The adrenaline from merely making that decision wore off and he was himself again. Alone again.

Of course it was worth it to love her.

Absolutely worth it.

TBC. . .

SO?????? Whaddaya think????? Review!~~~

(You guys are so super at reviewing I don't even know why I'm reminding you anymore but keep on doing it!!!)

I know this one was really long too and I apologize. . .  except to the people who like long chapters.

Okay… sorry it took so long but I had to retype it because my disk was going crazy and then ff.net shut down… it was ugly.

Take care~

-Jenn