Title: Raw Precision
Author: UConnFan (Michele)
E-Mail: LoveUConnBasketball@yahoo.com
Story Summary: Post "The Telling"; be warned, it picks up immediately where ep leaves off.
DISCLAIMER: Don't own. Never will. Dream job is a writer on this show, but I'm only seventeen so I'll stick to fanfiction.
Dedication: To my new friend & beta Linda - thank you so much for everything.
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"She was pregnant."
Vaughn looked up from his desk to see his wife standing expectantly in his doorway. "I see news travels fast," he murmured as he turned his attention back to his work.
Becky sighed and walked into the room, sauntering into a chair across from his desk. "Neither one of you knew."
He looked up at her, the wrinkles creasing his forehead. "Of course not, don't you think I would have mentioned that to someone?"
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really Becky," he groaned. Not with her at least.
"Perhaps you and Sydney could have a joint session with me, once she's released, to talk about this."
"Excuse me?" His eyebrow rose at the suggestion. Something told him that if he were in the same room as Sydney and his wife, he'd inevitably end up in some sort of physical discomfort. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"You two need to talk about this. *You* need to talk about this -"
"We will, okay?" he snapped. "Just not now and *not* together."
"Michael, I can't help you if you don't let me."
"I don't want help, okay?" he shot back, his eyes still on his computer screen.
"So you want to wallow in misery again?"
Yes, damn it, for awhile he *did* want to wallow in his misery again. Still, that wasn't an answer she'd accept. "I just don't want to talk about this right now."
"Whether either of you wants to talk about this, eventually you're going to have to," she advised. When he didn't respond she sighed, "You're thinking about how it would have been."
This time he sent her a brief glance. "What do you mean?"
"If Sydney hadn't gone missing, if she hadn't… lost your child. You're imagining how it would be."
"I love you Becky," he softly reminded her.
"I know you do," she agreed. "I love you too, but I'm not, nor will I ever be, Sydney Bristow."
"I never expected you to be Sydney." With a detachment that only came from years of training, she folded her hands in her lap as she spoke. "You still say her name in your sleep."
"I don't," he shook his head.
A controlled laugh broke the room's uneasy silence. "You do Michael. I don't hold it against you because frankly I wonder if I don't do the same thing with Brandon sometimes. I want to help you, but you need to remember that *I'm* your wife. We're in this together, so don't you dare shut me out."
"I won't," he promised, although they both sensed it would be a promise he'd break.
"I should go, I have a session in a few minutes." She stood and adjusted her blazer. "I'll see you at home?"
"Yeah," he waved his hand. "I'm not sure when I'll be back."
"I don't expect you to be early," she answered as she quickly kissed him.
Directors Kendall and Devlin and Agent Jack Bristow arrived at medical services later that afternoon. To all three men's surprise, Sydney had requested the guard get them for her. As the three men entered the room, Sydney stood, looking far more put together then she had at their earlier meeting.
"Sydney, is everything okay?" Jack asked. Even his poker face couldn't hide his obvious concern.
"I need a week." She pressed her lips together.
"Excuse me Miss Bristow?" Kendall looked both amused and confused by this sudden development. Out of nowhere, it appeared that a tiny piece of the former Sydney Bristow was back and, as before, demanding control.
"A week. I need a week to do a few things for myself, outside of here, and then I'll do whatever you want. Therapy, hypnosis, whatever, but I need a week."
"I'm going to have to warn you Agent Bristow, if this is a ploy to track down your mother or Arvin Sloane -" Kendall started.
Sydney barely bit back her disgust. "This is about *me* I need to do a few things for *me*, to start to make peace. I'm not doing that in here. I don't think I can effectively retrieve my memories unless I'm comfortable with how my life now is. I swear to you that this is not a ploy for justice, this is something I need to do for *me*, for my own state of mind."
Kendall and Devlin looked wearily over at the elder Bristow. "Jack, what are your thoughts on this?" Kendall demanded.
Jack shrugged and looked at his daughter. "I don't see how it can do any harm."
"We'll have to give you a tracking device and I'd like to have someone from security keep track of you, for your own safety," Devlin added.
"Fine. I'm going to need a car too," she realized.
"We'll give you one with a GPS. We trust you Agent Bristow, but I'm not willing to take any chances," Kendall explained. "I'm going to make an appointment for you to see Dr. Vaughn starting next week Agent Bristow."
"That's fine," she agreed.
"Miss Bristow, are you sure your prepared for this?" Devlin asked cautiously.
"I just need some time."
Ben Devlin looked at the two other men, most relieved to see Jack Bristow's slight nod of approval. "I suppose given your recent past, that's understandable."
Kendall sighed, "I'll go start the paperwork. We should be able to release you by dinnertime."
"Thank you." Sydney offered him a tiny smile as the two directors started to leave. Jack made an off-handed promise to join them in a moment.
"Sydney, are you certain about this?"
"There are things I need to do, and I can't do them here," she explained. "Dad, I *promise* you it has nothing to do with tracking down Sloane or Mom."
Jack studied her for a moment before he nodded. "I'll wait for them to release you and then you can follow me home."
"Thank you," she smiled at him, relieved to have his trust as he disappeared from the cell.
The sun had already set when Michael Vaughn once again set foot in medical services. For appearance sake he made small talk with Dr. Nichols for a few moments, holding tight onto his brief case as they discussed sports and the weather. Finally, as the seconds ticked away like hours, he got to the chase. "Actually, I'm here to see Sydney."
"Yes, I suspected as much." Dr. Nichols smiled at him. "However Miss Bristow left about an hour ago."
"Excuse me?"
"She was discharged from my care. Director Kendall signed off on it."
"Are you sure that was such a wise idea?"
"Miss Bristow said she needed a week to get her life in order, before she began the hypno-regression sessions and counseling. Since her father and Directors Devlin and Kendall agreed, I had no choice."
"Do you know where she went?"
"I would expect she'd be at her father's."
Vaughn internally grimaced. There was no way he was going to Jack Bristow's now. He and Jack had made strides since Sydney's disappearance, but he suspected with Sydney now there, he'd be an unwelcome guest. That was if Sydney didn't whip his ass the moment she saw him. Understandably he was not her favorite person in the world at the moment, no matter how desperately he might have wanted to be or how badly he felt they needed to talk. She was going to have none of him any time soon, and he knew it.
"Do you need anything else Agent Vaughn?"
The doctor's question broke through his thoughts as he shook his head. "No, thank you," he said. With no other option he turned around and left medical services. All he could do was wonder when - or even *if* - he'd see Sydney again.
Fresh air, even in Los Angeles, felt significantly better then the stale, sterile oxygen that had surrounded her in medical services. The CIA had supplied her a non-descript-looking sedan along with a tracking device that she wore along her ankle. Once in her car she followed her father to his residence. Even though he could no longer drive due to his condition, Jack Bristow had a driver who took the short route towards the home Sydney hadn't seen in years.
Before her disappearance it had been years since she'd been to the home she'd grown up in, and was surprised to see her father even still lived in the home. The house was empty of anyone ("The housekeeper is off," he explained) when they first walked in. Sydney offered to help her Father around but it was obvious that even in a wheelchair Jack Bristow was in no need of assistance. Instead, he directed his daughter to go get comfortable and that he had taken steps to put some of her former clothes into her former bedroom. Free to take a shower and get comfortable, she padded around the house, in awe of the memories that still appeared when she was there. Almost two hours later she arrived in the kitchen, relaxed and comfortable in loose pants, a tank top and a loose windbreaker. Wherever she'd been, she fully suspected she'd lost some weight since her 'disappearance'.
"I hope you're hungry. Dinner will be ready momentarily," Jack explained as he directed her to sit.
"Dad, I can -"
"Sit Sydney, I'm fully capable of making and serving dinner," he instructed. "I hope you still like chicken."
"I love chicken." She smiled as he managed to wheel himself and two dinner plates over.
"My cooking skills are adequate Sydney, but I assure you Rose will be back tomorrow to prepare the meals."
"This is great," she promised him. They began the meal in silence, both eager to ask questions but neither wanting to push. Finally Jack broke the silence. "You said you wanted to do some things. What did you have in mind?"
"I might go away for a few days. Go up the coast… Just to get away, collect my thoughts. I was planning on taking a vacation when… When I disappeared."
"That sounds nice," he approved.
"Will you be okay by yourself?"
He looked up at her. "I'll be fine Sydney."
Despite her own reserves she nodded. She ate some more of her meal, complimenting her Father on his cooking. "Dad, what's wrong?" she asked finally as he glanced up at her. "Vaughn said… He said you were dying."
"I see that Agent Vaughn's become quite a pessimist," he noted with slight amusement. "Yes, Sydney, I've been ill since you disappeared. For awhile there was some question of my general health. While I no longer have use of my legs, I assure you that I'm not going to die anytime soon."
"What happened?" she asked softly, sipping from her water and giving him her full attention.
"Before you disappeared, Arvin made me an offer. He wanted us to be… partners again; to realize what Rambaldi was trying to create. Needless to say he didn't enjoy my answer of no. During the time he had me in custody, before the CIA raided the offices and found me, he injected me with something. The CIA labs still haven't been able to identify the substance. For about a year I was in and out of the hospitals. There were… complications, concerns on my health. All of that eventually culminated in the loss of my legs. Thankfully we've been able to treat the complications I've had with my cardiac and vascular systems."
"So you're not dying?" she whispered in obvious relief.
Jack was amused as he shook his head. "My health is, of course, an issue, but it usually is with a man my age. I'm fifty-five now Sydney, and probably should not be doing the job I do. However, I refuse to give up. I will not let whatever he masterminded end my life. More importantly I refuse to see my grave until I see Arvin Sloane in his."
"What about my mother?"
"Leads on your mother have been as elusive as they are on Sloane. The last time I actually saw her was seven months ago in Madrid. Since then we've had reported sightings, contacts who claim to have been in touch with her, but nothing concrete."
"Why haven't they killed Sark?"
"On the off-chance that his Intel might become useful one day. Or there were hopes that we might be able to keep him in custody to one day trade for you." She nodded and looked back at her plate, finishing off her rice. Cautiously Jack broached the next subject. "Sydney, you should know that Agent Vaughn came to me before he was married," he said as her eyes flashed up to his. "At the time… I just thought you should know that I gave him my blessing. Looking back on my actions I regret them. If I had known that -"
"It's fine Dad," she stopped him and removed her eyes from his. "You had no way of knowing."
"I never intended for my actions to come back to hurt you Sydney, nor did Agent Vaughn."
"Vaughn's made his decision now," she spoke softly. "All I can do is live with them."
"You said you wanted to go away for a few days. When would you leave?"
"Tomorrow night, if I can get a reservation," she explained.
"I'd like to give you a cell phone to take with you. Kendall's an ass, but I agree that no precaution is too much to keep you safe. Especially now. We have no idea who's watching or what they might want."
"I assume that the CIA will trail me wherever I go."
"They won't interfere with your plans Sydney, but yes, they will. They'll also have orders to bring either Arvin Sloane or your mother into custody if they approach you, and permission to shoot to kill if necessary," he explained. The idea of watching her Mother die before her eyes was not appealing, but she mutely nodded. "Would you like company on your trip? I could arrange to take -"
"Dad," she cut him off. "Thank you, for everything. For supporting me and letting me stay here, but what I need to do, I need to do alone."
After a moment of deliberation he nodded. "Perhaps while you're gone I could arrange for your things to be removed from storage."
"Thank you," she smiled at him.
"I'm your Father Sydney. I know my skills as such are… barely adequate, but if you need something I will make sure you have it."
"I can't believe you still live here," she mused as she looked around the kitchen. The kitchen where she first learned how to bake and where her Father had walked his then-five year old daughter through how to make spaghetti. At the time, pasta had seemed to be the most complicated meal in the world. It was the room where her mother had made every birthday cake she had for the first six years of her life, and where her parents had shared every anniversary dinner that she ever recalled.
"Yes, well, once you left home I decided that it was just easier to keep it," he explained with slight unease. Then he continued in a softer voice, "Eventually it became apparent that the house had more good memories for me than bad."
"Dad, you should know that I want to come back to the agency. I'm not sure when, or in what capacity… But I can't imagine doing anything else. Not now, and maybe not ever."
"Yes, I fully suspected that would be the case," he sighed. "I don't disapprove of your choices Sydney, but I wanted you to have a safe, normal life," he explained as she nodded. "For what weight my opinion holds, you would be a fabulous asset to linguistics and you'd still be able to have a normal life."
"Thank you," she whispered, unaccustomed to his compliments.
"May I offer you another bit of advice?" he spoke cautiously as she nodded. "Like it or not, you will, eventually, have to speak to Agent Vaughn. Avoiding him will not work forever, and might only make things more difficult for both of you."
"I know," she agreed. "Just… Nothing feels real right now." She looked around the house and conceded to her inner turmoil.
"Yes, I understand that," he nodded as she looked at him. "After your mother left… I used to watch you sleep. I was so sure you would disappear… That I would lose you somehow. I couldn't bear to go through that again, to lose you. It takes time, but eventually things feel real again. You feel more than just pain and anger. And eventually you'll be happy again."
"How? How do I get past this?"
"Time," he shrugged. "You're still young sweetheart, and vastly intelligent. There's only one promise I can make you Sydney."
"Yes?"
"This is not the end."
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A/N: Secret Agent Girl - HI!!! lol, I love your reviews, you know that?! you are awesome, and really I just love how you guys use my naem (I'm so easily amused). Syd's not going to kick Becky's ass (but man it's tempting) I'm still a little cautious of the pregnancy story line (didn't I kill that in Coming to Terms? Really guys, aren't you sick of me using that ploy by now? hell, I used a pregnancy in Lightkeeper too) but I've executed it before & I should do okay even though the circumstances are vastly different here.
Everyone who reviews - you guys are the greatest! seriously, my dream job is to work for Alias - how great would that be! They wouldn't even have to pay me (although if they could set up a trust fund to pay for my tuition to Southern Vermont College, it would be greatly appreciated), I'd just want to sit there and watch everyone. Seriously, I'd die (I can't even approach people I know, nevermind perfect strangers).
Oh, yeah, I think I found the biggest understatement of an Alias actor regarding their character in a recent interview. This has *got* to be the biggest understatement of the season. In his TV Guide interview (March 22-28, p. 45) Michael Vartan says "Something I do in the season finale puts a lot of stress on our relationship." Man, Vartan certainly knows how to give an understatement! okay, anyway, in hindsight I think it's a near humorous comment.
Okay, that's enough - review now please :) feed my soul :)
Author: UConnFan (Michele)
E-Mail: LoveUConnBasketball@yahoo.com
Story Summary: Post "The Telling"; be warned, it picks up immediately where ep leaves off.
DISCLAIMER: Don't own. Never will. Dream job is a writer on this show, but I'm only seventeen so I'll stick to fanfiction.
Dedication: To my new friend & beta Linda - thank you so much for everything.
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"She was pregnant."
Vaughn looked up from his desk to see his wife standing expectantly in his doorway. "I see news travels fast," he murmured as he turned his attention back to his work.
Becky sighed and walked into the room, sauntering into a chair across from his desk. "Neither one of you knew."
He looked up at her, the wrinkles creasing his forehead. "Of course not, don't you think I would have mentioned that to someone?"
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really Becky," he groaned. Not with her at least.
"Perhaps you and Sydney could have a joint session with me, once she's released, to talk about this."
"Excuse me?" His eyebrow rose at the suggestion. Something told him that if he were in the same room as Sydney and his wife, he'd inevitably end up in some sort of physical discomfort. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"You two need to talk about this. *You* need to talk about this -"
"We will, okay?" he snapped. "Just not now and *not* together."
"Michael, I can't help you if you don't let me."
"I don't want help, okay?" he shot back, his eyes still on his computer screen.
"So you want to wallow in misery again?"
Yes, damn it, for awhile he *did* want to wallow in his misery again. Still, that wasn't an answer she'd accept. "I just don't want to talk about this right now."
"Whether either of you wants to talk about this, eventually you're going to have to," she advised. When he didn't respond she sighed, "You're thinking about how it would have been."
This time he sent her a brief glance. "What do you mean?"
"If Sydney hadn't gone missing, if she hadn't… lost your child. You're imagining how it would be."
"I love you Becky," he softly reminded her.
"I know you do," she agreed. "I love you too, but I'm not, nor will I ever be, Sydney Bristow."
"I never expected you to be Sydney." With a detachment that only came from years of training, she folded her hands in her lap as she spoke. "You still say her name in your sleep."
"I don't," he shook his head.
A controlled laugh broke the room's uneasy silence. "You do Michael. I don't hold it against you because frankly I wonder if I don't do the same thing with Brandon sometimes. I want to help you, but you need to remember that *I'm* your wife. We're in this together, so don't you dare shut me out."
"I won't," he promised, although they both sensed it would be a promise he'd break.
"I should go, I have a session in a few minutes." She stood and adjusted her blazer. "I'll see you at home?"
"Yeah," he waved his hand. "I'm not sure when I'll be back."
"I don't expect you to be early," she answered as she quickly kissed him.
Directors Kendall and Devlin and Agent Jack Bristow arrived at medical services later that afternoon. To all three men's surprise, Sydney had requested the guard get them for her. As the three men entered the room, Sydney stood, looking far more put together then she had at their earlier meeting.
"Sydney, is everything okay?" Jack asked. Even his poker face couldn't hide his obvious concern.
"I need a week." She pressed her lips together.
"Excuse me Miss Bristow?" Kendall looked both amused and confused by this sudden development. Out of nowhere, it appeared that a tiny piece of the former Sydney Bristow was back and, as before, demanding control.
"A week. I need a week to do a few things for myself, outside of here, and then I'll do whatever you want. Therapy, hypnosis, whatever, but I need a week."
"I'm going to have to warn you Agent Bristow, if this is a ploy to track down your mother or Arvin Sloane -" Kendall started.
Sydney barely bit back her disgust. "This is about *me* I need to do a few things for *me*, to start to make peace. I'm not doing that in here. I don't think I can effectively retrieve my memories unless I'm comfortable with how my life now is. I swear to you that this is not a ploy for justice, this is something I need to do for *me*, for my own state of mind."
Kendall and Devlin looked wearily over at the elder Bristow. "Jack, what are your thoughts on this?" Kendall demanded.
Jack shrugged and looked at his daughter. "I don't see how it can do any harm."
"We'll have to give you a tracking device and I'd like to have someone from security keep track of you, for your own safety," Devlin added.
"Fine. I'm going to need a car too," she realized.
"We'll give you one with a GPS. We trust you Agent Bristow, but I'm not willing to take any chances," Kendall explained. "I'm going to make an appointment for you to see Dr. Vaughn starting next week Agent Bristow."
"That's fine," she agreed.
"Miss Bristow, are you sure your prepared for this?" Devlin asked cautiously.
"I just need some time."
Ben Devlin looked at the two other men, most relieved to see Jack Bristow's slight nod of approval. "I suppose given your recent past, that's understandable."
Kendall sighed, "I'll go start the paperwork. We should be able to release you by dinnertime."
"Thank you." Sydney offered him a tiny smile as the two directors started to leave. Jack made an off-handed promise to join them in a moment.
"Sydney, are you certain about this?"
"There are things I need to do, and I can't do them here," she explained. "Dad, I *promise* you it has nothing to do with tracking down Sloane or Mom."
Jack studied her for a moment before he nodded. "I'll wait for them to release you and then you can follow me home."
"Thank you," she smiled at him, relieved to have his trust as he disappeared from the cell.
The sun had already set when Michael Vaughn once again set foot in medical services. For appearance sake he made small talk with Dr. Nichols for a few moments, holding tight onto his brief case as they discussed sports and the weather. Finally, as the seconds ticked away like hours, he got to the chase. "Actually, I'm here to see Sydney."
"Yes, I suspected as much." Dr. Nichols smiled at him. "However Miss Bristow left about an hour ago."
"Excuse me?"
"She was discharged from my care. Director Kendall signed off on it."
"Are you sure that was such a wise idea?"
"Miss Bristow said she needed a week to get her life in order, before she began the hypno-regression sessions and counseling. Since her father and Directors Devlin and Kendall agreed, I had no choice."
"Do you know where she went?"
"I would expect she'd be at her father's."
Vaughn internally grimaced. There was no way he was going to Jack Bristow's now. He and Jack had made strides since Sydney's disappearance, but he suspected with Sydney now there, he'd be an unwelcome guest. That was if Sydney didn't whip his ass the moment she saw him. Understandably he was not her favorite person in the world at the moment, no matter how desperately he might have wanted to be or how badly he felt they needed to talk. She was going to have none of him any time soon, and he knew it.
"Do you need anything else Agent Vaughn?"
The doctor's question broke through his thoughts as he shook his head. "No, thank you," he said. With no other option he turned around and left medical services. All he could do was wonder when - or even *if* - he'd see Sydney again.
Fresh air, even in Los Angeles, felt significantly better then the stale, sterile oxygen that had surrounded her in medical services. The CIA had supplied her a non-descript-looking sedan along with a tracking device that she wore along her ankle. Once in her car she followed her father to his residence. Even though he could no longer drive due to his condition, Jack Bristow had a driver who took the short route towards the home Sydney hadn't seen in years.
Before her disappearance it had been years since she'd been to the home she'd grown up in, and was surprised to see her father even still lived in the home. The house was empty of anyone ("The housekeeper is off," he explained) when they first walked in. Sydney offered to help her Father around but it was obvious that even in a wheelchair Jack Bristow was in no need of assistance. Instead, he directed his daughter to go get comfortable and that he had taken steps to put some of her former clothes into her former bedroom. Free to take a shower and get comfortable, she padded around the house, in awe of the memories that still appeared when she was there. Almost two hours later she arrived in the kitchen, relaxed and comfortable in loose pants, a tank top and a loose windbreaker. Wherever she'd been, she fully suspected she'd lost some weight since her 'disappearance'.
"I hope you're hungry. Dinner will be ready momentarily," Jack explained as he directed her to sit.
"Dad, I can -"
"Sit Sydney, I'm fully capable of making and serving dinner," he instructed. "I hope you still like chicken."
"I love chicken." She smiled as he managed to wheel himself and two dinner plates over.
"My cooking skills are adequate Sydney, but I assure you Rose will be back tomorrow to prepare the meals."
"This is great," she promised him. They began the meal in silence, both eager to ask questions but neither wanting to push. Finally Jack broke the silence. "You said you wanted to do some things. What did you have in mind?"
"I might go away for a few days. Go up the coast… Just to get away, collect my thoughts. I was planning on taking a vacation when… When I disappeared."
"That sounds nice," he approved.
"Will you be okay by yourself?"
He looked up at her. "I'll be fine Sydney."
Despite her own reserves she nodded. She ate some more of her meal, complimenting her Father on his cooking. "Dad, what's wrong?" she asked finally as he glanced up at her. "Vaughn said… He said you were dying."
"I see that Agent Vaughn's become quite a pessimist," he noted with slight amusement. "Yes, Sydney, I've been ill since you disappeared. For awhile there was some question of my general health. While I no longer have use of my legs, I assure you that I'm not going to die anytime soon."
"What happened?" she asked softly, sipping from her water and giving him her full attention.
"Before you disappeared, Arvin made me an offer. He wanted us to be… partners again; to realize what Rambaldi was trying to create. Needless to say he didn't enjoy my answer of no. During the time he had me in custody, before the CIA raided the offices and found me, he injected me with something. The CIA labs still haven't been able to identify the substance. For about a year I was in and out of the hospitals. There were… complications, concerns on my health. All of that eventually culminated in the loss of my legs. Thankfully we've been able to treat the complications I've had with my cardiac and vascular systems."
"So you're not dying?" she whispered in obvious relief.
Jack was amused as he shook his head. "My health is, of course, an issue, but it usually is with a man my age. I'm fifty-five now Sydney, and probably should not be doing the job I do. However, I refuse to give up. I will not let whatever he masterminded end my life. More importantly I refuse to see my grave until I see Arvin Sloane in his."
"What about my mother?"
"Leads on your mother have been as elusive as they are on Sloane. The last time I actually saw her was seven months ago in Madrid. Since then we've had reported sightings, contacts who claim to have been in touch with her, but nothing concrete."
"Why haven't they killed Sark?"
"On the off-chance that his Intel might become useful one day. Or there were hopes that we might be able to keep him in custody to one day trade for you." She nodded and looked back at her plate, finishing off her rice. Cautiously Jack broached the next subject. "Sydney, you should know that Agent Vaughn came to me before he was married," he said as her eyes flashed up to his. "At the time… I just thought you should know that I gave him my blessing. Looking back on my actions I regret them. If I had known that -"
"It's fine Dad," she stopped him and removed her eyes from his. "You had no way of knowing."
"I never intended for my actions to come back to hurt you Sydney, nor did Agent Vaughn."
"Vaughn's made his decision now," she spoke softly. "All I can do is live with them."
"You said you wanted to go away for a few days. When would you leave?"
"Tomorrow night, if I can get a reservation," she explained.
"I'd like to give you a cell phone to take with you. Kendall's an ass, but I agree that no precaution is too much to keep you safe. Especially now. We have no idea who's watching or what they might want."
"I assume that the CIA will trail me wherever I go."
"They won't interfere with your plans Sydney, but yes, they will. They'll also have orders to bring either Arvin Sloane or your mother into custody if they approach you, and permission to shoot to kill if necessary," he explained. The idea of watching her Mother die before her eyes was not appealing, but she mutely nodded. "Would you like company on your trip? I could arrange to take -"
"Dad," she cut him off. "Thank you, for everything. For supporting me and letting me stay here, but what I need to do, I need to do alone."
After a moment of deliberation he nodded. "Perhaps while you're gone I could arrange for your things to be removed from storage."
"Thank you," she smiled at him.
"I'm your Father Sydney. I know my skills as such are… barely adequate, but if you need something I will make sure you have it."
"I can't believe you still live here," she mused as she looked around the kitchen. The kitchen where she first learned how to bake and where her Father had walked his then-five year old daughter through how to make spaghetti. At the time, pasta had seemed to be the most complicated meal in the world. It was the room where her mother had made every birthday cake she had for the first six years of her life, and where her parents had shared every anniversary dinner that she ever recalled.
"Yes, well, once you left home I decided that it was just easier to keep it," he explained with slight unease. Then he continued in a softer voice, "Eventually it became apparent that the house had more good memories for me than bad."
"Dad, you should know that I want to come back to the agency. I'm not sure when, or in what capacity… But I can't imagine doing anything else. Not now, and maybe not ever."
"Yes, I fully suspected that would be the case," he sighed. "I don't disapprove of your choices Sydney, but I wanted you to have a safe, normal life," he explained as she nodded. "For what weight my opinion holds, you would be a fabulous asset to linguistics and you'd still be able to have a normal life."
"Thank you," she whispered, unaccustomed to his compliments.
"May I offer you another bit of advice?" he spoke cautiously as she nodded. "Like it or not, you will, eventually, have to speak to Agent Vaughn. Avoiding him will not work forever, and might only make things more difficult for both of you."
"I know," she agreed. "Just… Nothing feels real right now." She looked around the house and conceded to her inner turmoil.
"Yes, I understand that," he nodded as she looked at him. "After your mother left… I used to watch you sleep. I was so sure you would disappear… That I would lose you somehow. I couldn't bear to go through that again, to lose you. It takes time, but eventually things feel real again. You feel more than just pain and anger. And eventually you'll be happy again."
"How? How do I get past this?"
"Time," he shrugged. "You're still young sweetheart, and vastly intelligent. There's only one promise I can make you Sydney."
"Yes?"
"This is not the end."
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A/N: Secret Agent Girl - HI!!! lol, I love your reviews, you know that?! you are awesome, and really I just love how you guys use my naem (I'm so easily amused). Syd's not going to kick Becky's ass (but man it's tempting) I'm still a little cautious of the pregnancy story line (didn't I kill that in Coming to Terms? Really guys, aren't you sick of me using that ploy by now? hell, I used a pregnancy in Lightkeeper too) but I've executed it before & I should do okay even though the circumstances are vastly different here.
Everyone who reviews - you guys are the greatest! seriously, my dream job is to work for Alias - how great would that be! They wouldn't even have to pay me (although if they could set up a trust fund to pay for my tuition to Southern Vermont College, it would be greatly appreciated), I'd just want to sit there and watch everyone. Seriously, I'd die (I can't even approach people I know, nevermind perfect strangers).
Oh, yeah, I think I found the biggest understatement of an Alias actor regarding their character in a recent interview. This has *got* to be the biggest understatement of the season. In his TV Guide interview (March 22-28, p. 45) Michael Vartan says "Something I do in the season finale puts a lot of stress on our relationship." Man, Vartan certainly knows how to give an understatement! okay, anyway, in hindsight I think it's a near humorous comment.
Okay, that's enough - review now please :) feed my soul :)
