Burgundy-

The conversations somehow were all speaking of the same thing. At first, she had wondered if she was hearing things, but after several mentionings of "the madman" and "running through the airport," she stopped and inquired.

"Excuse me." Two stylishly dressed women eyed her bottom-up before settling on her face and smiling. "I'm sorry, I heard you talking about a guy running through the airport?"

"Yeah, that's right." The one on the left started her sentence-long explanation of the events. "Some guy jumped out of an ambulance and is running through the airport like it's fun or something."

"Oh." She wanted to ask if there was anything else, if the 'madman' was a handsome man with green eyes who upon seeing one labeled as the opposite of a madman, whatever that was. Instead she smiled, thanked them, and moved towards her gate. It was probably just someone who was off in the head. Security or the police will have gotten him before she saw him.

-

At first he had stopped every young woman he saw, assuming Sydney was wearing a wig. But when that wasn't giving results, his heart panicked and he grabbed at the wrist of brunettes of any age.

"Why isn't anyone stopping him?" he heard someone say to his left. Oh god, no, don't stop me. I need to find her. I need to find Sydney.

"Agent Vaughn!"

He turned reflexively and stopped. "Craig?"

"God, man, you gave us a helluva scare!"

"Me? Have you found Sydney?"

A flash of anger across Craig's face. "Sydney? Sydney is not your responsibilty, Vaughn. She is her own person, and if—"

"What if she's been kidnapped? If there's a madman holding a gun to her head somewhere?"

"She's not here, Vaughn! She has places to be, and she'll get there."

"She is!" The finality of his voice shocked even Vaughn. "She's here, Craig."

"What do you have some sort of telepathic connection?" he asked sarcastically. "She's not here, man. We've got agents panning the entire building. You need to get back to your wedding."

If people hadn't been stopping before, they were now. 'His own wedding?' 'That poor bride!' 'Damn that Sydney person!' 'Kidnapped?' 'Cool, a secret agent!' 'That lucky bastard, two women and I can't find one!'

Vaughn pushed past Craig, still headed in his original direction. He forced the conversation from his mind and continued, grateful that LAX was U-shaped; that is, if one started in one door they would eventually end up at the other entrance. He stopped accosting random women and walked briskly, looking for the woman in the body he'd touched just hours earlier.

-

Her plane was already boarding when she reached the gate, so she gave the attendant her ticket and followed the other travelers aboard. Since she had made a last-minute flight change, she had had to pay for the ticket out of her own pocket (at the moment, there had been other things on her mind than calling SD-6 for a new ticket). She made her way to the back of the coach section.

-

He began to slow down, muscles tired but mind racing. There were an infinite amount of places for her to be in the airport. Yet there still was that thing in him, the thing stating that there was a possibility that she was not in the airport. And he was beginning to believe it.

-

The place departed, ascending quickly. Sydney sat reading a British Vogue she had picked up from Francie's pile of magazines in their living room. She laughed just as the plane jumped a bit; she was probably the only person she knew who read Vogue for the articles.

-

He sat in defeat, allowing no one to bother him though nobody came within ten feet of him. He leaned forward and buried his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes to keep from drifting to sleep. He refused to believe that she could be on a one way flight to anywhere in the world.

-

Sleep wanted to claim her, steal her from consciousness. But she couldn't—wouldn't. Dixon didn't know that she was still coming. She looked out the window, trying to keep her eyes open by watching the sun set from highlighter yellow to dark burgundy to a velvety blue. She gasped inwardly at momentary realization; nobody knew where she was.