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. Case closed. Sue at your own risk.

Dedication: To everyone who's reviewed - your all wonderful.

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The rain that had pitter-pattered her to sleep the previous night was all but gone by the time she rose Saturday morning. That was the day of her highly anticipated move, as Dixon and Will arrived early to assist her. Despite her condition, even Carrie arrived with Marshall, determined to help with what she could. Although she was hardly Francie, Sydney was still glad that she had been able to strike up a friendship with the quirky woman who had stolen Marshall's heart.

Moving Sydney's belongings out of her father's house and taking what remained in storage to her new condo took up most of the day. Furniture she hadn't seen in two years was finally removed from storage and set around her apartment per her instructions. Carrie helped her wipe away the dust from photos and helped her unpack some of her more used clothing. By the evening she ordered pizzas; her friends sat around her partially composed living room, eating dinner before she sent everyone home for the night. Her bed was made, and while the majority of her boxes needed to be unpacked, she could do that for herself. Thanking all of them for their help, she locked the door behind them and went to take her first shower in her new home.

Early the next morning she went for a jog through the grounds of her new complex, taking the opportunity to introduce herself to some of her new neighbors. To her relief, everyone she ran into was friendly and they all seemed relatively harmless. By the time she returned to her house, she knew five of her neighbors by name and even had a standing invitation for coffee with one of them. Unlocking her door, she stepped inside her warm condo and headed towards the bathroom.

A few hours later she sat in the living room. Boxes surrounded her as she went through them, trying to decipher what she wanted and where she wanted to put it. Carefully, she unwrapped a photo of Danny, studying the aged image before her. As much as it pained her to say it, the joy on her face in that picture couldn't even begin to compare to the look on her face when she stood outside the Staples Center, cold and impatient, with Vaughn by her side. Still, it was a memory she didn't want to lose, a person she could never completely forget, and she looked around the nearly empty room for a place to set it.

As she stood, the doorbell rang. Cautiously she set the picture frame back on the table. Then she approached the door, silently hoping it wasn't a well-intentioned neighbor wanting to greet her with something horrendous, like a green Jell-O mold. Slowly she opened the door, seconds later smiling her surprise as her guest came into view.

"Hey."

Irresistible was the word that came to mind. In his dark blue jeans, matching dark T-shirt and brown suede jacket, any woman would have been insane to not look at him at *least* twice.

"Hi," she grinned, pushing hair behind her ear.

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah," she smiled and moved out of the way, softly apologizing for her rudeness.

"So, this is your new place..." He surveyed it as she stood close to him. Mindful of their non-status, she resisted the urge to step closer, to allow her arm to brush up against his.

"This is my new place."

"I like it." He looked back at her, his smile nearly as wide as hers.

"Thanks," she replied. As their eyes met, she wondered if it would be too presumptuous to give him a drawer. Her subconscious suggestion only forced her smile to grow.

"What?" he chuckled.

"Nothing," she insisted. "Do you want something to drink? I was about to make lunch -" she started towards the kitchen. Gently he stopped her, grabbing her wrist before she turned towards him.

"Do you want to go out and get something?" he asked, reluctantly letting go of her wrist.

"What?" She smiled as one blossomed across his face.

"Are you hungry? If you're not, we don't have to -"

"I'm hungry," she stopped him. "Let me just get my coat."

"That's a good idea," he complimented as she briefly disappeared. "Ready?" he questioned as she reappeared.

"Ready," she agreed.





Lunch was nothing fancy. They ate at a restaurant near what had once been Francie's. The pizza was the best in the area, his favorite, and she had to bite back the irony. After all of that time, they were finally sharing something that resembled Joey's Pizza. Nothing monumental was exchanged between them. Conversation was light, discussing pizza toppings, the Kings' chances during the upcoming season, and seemingly endless debate over whether or not she'd buy a new sofa. Still, she enjoyed it, enjoyed being light with him again, and was slightly sad to see the meal end.

"Thanks," she smiled, her arms crossed as they stepped onto the sidewalk outside the pizza place. Silently he shrugged and smiled, his own hands in his pockets. "I probably should go home," she realized as Vaughn's smile slowly faded.

"Actually..." He looked down at his feet, brushing his finger past the underside of his nose as his other hand dipped into his back pocket for something. Without a word, he handed them to her, watching her dimples reappear with a vengeance as she read them.

Sydney laughed and shook her head, "I should warn you, I'm a horrible mini-golfer."

"You can't be that bad," he protested. In his mind's eye he could still clearly recall watching her mini-golf with Francie and Will, what seemed like a lifetime ago. She hadn't been *that* bad - at least she hadn't been as bad as Francie.

"Okay," she laughed. "Let's do it."

Surrounded by teenage couples and families with young children, they spent nearly two hours that afternoon playing. Neither was particularly good at the game, but the smile on Sydney's face made up for any embarrassment he felt. Conversation was mostly about the game, playfully jostling one another for how they were performing. The best part of the escapade for Vaughn was seeing her dimples deepen, her eyes sparkle and that she wasn't purposely avoiding the small touches that passed between them without effort. Steadily, she was letting him back in, letting down her guard again, and it made the worst game of mini-golf in his life worth it.

Conveniently, the mini-golf course was not too far from the observatory. Although it was a slightly chilly day in late November, with overcast skies and rain expected by sun down, they somehow ended up sitting on a bench there. In companionable quiet, they remained next to one another, watching the occasional person pass and the clouds continue to steadily gather overhead.

Sydney looked down at the Styrofoam cup of frozen yogurt in her hands. Next to her, he was seemingly consumed by his attempt to find his cherry among his frozen yogurt. Shaking her head, she smiled and took another bite. A second later, she dropped her plastic spoon against the Styrofoam, briefly looking at his profile as she considered her words. Somehow Vaughn managed to sense her discomfort, looking over at her with a lopsided grin. Finally, she returned the smile and delved into the questions that surged through her mind.

"How was your Thanksgiving?" she inquired. Truthfully, what she had wanted to know was *where* he had been on Thanksgiving, but she didn't want him to think she was attacking him.

"Good," he nodded, looking again at his Styrofoam cup. "I spent it with my mother," he added.

"That's nice," Sydney agreed. "Just... Dixon mentioned that he'd invited you to join them. You weren't there," she explained with a shrug. "I was just curious."

Slowly he curled his lips and looked quickly at her. "Did you see your father?"

"He was there, actually. So was Will. It was... nice." She shrugged. "I hadn't given it much thought until Dixon invited me. I don't think I could have put everything together myself... That was usually what Francie did, although she *did* have a tendency to burn turkeys," she laughed. At her side Vaughn smiled, glad to see the memory of her departed friend now brought a smile, even though her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

"Sarah is a good cook, and it was nice to be around the kids and Carrie," she explained. As much as she enjoyed her budding friendship with the increasingly round technical agent, being around Carrie was a double-edged sword. With Dixon's children, she could play with them and wasn't constantly reminded of what she'd lost. During one of her restless nights her mind had easily done the math - her baby would have been born in the previous spring, meaning their child would have been roughly one and a half by that Thanksgiving 2005.

"Good," he quietly nodded.

Smiling brightly, Sydney nodded and looked down at her ice cream. Vaughn gently nudged her arm with his, and to her surprise, held a spoonful of frozen yogurt out to her expectantly. By then, both were grinning as she allowed him to give her the small spoonful of chocolate before she returned the gesture. Easily they slipped back into a comfortable silence, another question racing through her mind as she played with what remained in her Styrofoam cup.

"Syd?" Vaughn gently spoke her name, drawing her out of her reverie.

When she lifted her head she only met his eyes briefly before she found the fuel to say what was on her mind. "You took off your wedding ring," she quietly pointed out.

Ever so briefly, he struggled with discomfort before he looked away. Then he nodded and shot her another momentary glance before he spoke. "Yeah, I did," he confirmed, swiftly wiping the tip of his nose before his free hand returned to his plastic spoon. "I'm sure you already know this, but Becky left me... I suppose I should thank her. Send her a basket of mini-muffins," he smirked, catching her soft laugh out of the corner of his eye. A few seconds later he soberly continued, "I kept it on for a while after she left, after she'd taken hers off... I love her Syd, I do," Vaughn confessed. "But I'm not sure I was ever *in love* with her. We're getting divorced. Annulled," he corrected himself. "So I took it off. My heart wasn't in the marriage anymore... I'm starting to think it never was. So we ended it," he finished.

In her mind, Sydney knew the polite thing to do was to tell him she was sorry that it was ending. However, that wasn't entirely the truth, and she refused to lie to him, especially to preserve something as gossamer as pleasantries. Instead, she nodded and looked down at what was left of her ice cream, allowing the silence to capture them again. So wrapped up in the thoughts surging through her mind, she was unaware of Vaughn's attention until he reached over to gently tug her nose. Finally, she laughed and looked over to find him smiling before She offered him another bite of her ice cream.

Quietly, each lost in their own contemplation, they finished their ice cream. The sun was already growing low in the Los Angeles sky when he pulled up into her new condominium complex. To her surprise, he was at the passenger's door, opening it for her before she could. Smiling at him, she stood and then led him to the door. Momentarily the possibility of inviting him in popped into her mind, but Sydney quickly discarded it. The situation would be far too tempting - the last thing she wanted was to make any mistakes as they re-charted what had once been an easy path for them. Anxiously she searched for her keys while they stood on her front stoop. Behind her, Vaughn stood so close that she swore she could feel the heat radiating off his body on to hers. The result was a warmth that she hadn't felt since her return.

Finally she turned, smiling at him under the dim front porch light. When Vaughn smiled back, she found herself embracing him before she could consider the ramifications. Instead, he held her close, allowing her body to mold against his as her eyes slid shut.

"Thank you," Sydney whispered, her head still nestled comfortably against his shoulder.

For a second his own eyes shut before he replied, his voice hoarse, "Thank you Syd."

Despite his own wishful thinking, he knew there was no way they could stand there all night. Eventually, they pulled apart as he watched Sydney smile and brush a stubborn lock of hair behind her ear. "I'll see you tomorrow, at work?" she clarified.

"Right," he smiled, slightly tilting his head.

As she jingled her keys into the lock, Sydney's finely tuned ears heard his slow retreat to the car. A handful of moments later she turned around and called his name. Abruptly his steps stopped, as Vaughn looked at her over his shoulder, unable to stop a smile to match her own beautiful grin.

"Happy birthday," she wished, meeting his eyes in the descending darkness.

Although it hadn't seemed possible, Sydney watched his grin blossom even further across his face. "Thanks Syd," he called back before retreating to his car.





The rain that had briefly disappeared on Sunday appeared with a vengeance during Sydney's drive to work Monday morning. Stepping into the Joint Task Force Center, slightly damp, she smiled when she caught Vaughn entering from the opposite direction. Before they could approach one another, Kendall appeared, postponing any chance they had to talk.

"Agent Bristow, Agent Vaughn, I'm glad you're here. We were finally able to read that disk you discovered in Georgia."

"What's on it?" she crossed her arms and asked.

"We don't know. We're about to find out," Kendall replied, leading the two of them to a computer. Marshall sat, twitching his hands uncomfortably, next to a younger technical agent who Sydney recognized.

"Well? What is it?" Vaughn demanded as both men shrugged. The younger agent double clicked on the only program that the computer could read off of the disk as they waited to see what happened.

The screen went black before a seemingly harmless image popped up onto the screen. It reminded Sydney of a child's cartoon or animated greeting card, a blue sky with white puffy clouds and a field of grass. Then a pink bunny rabbit hopped onto the screen as she heard Kendall mutter, "What the hell..."

Turning towards the group, the bunny smiled as a banner popped up over his head. Sydney felt her stomach drop as she saw "Nice Try" pop up onto the banner. Only seconds later, the painfully familiar voice of Mr. Sark filtered through from the computer's speakers.

"Honestly I applaud your persistence," Sark's voice started. "Not only of Ms. Bristow, but the entire CIA. Still, someone as intelligent and highly regarded as Agent Bristow should know better. You couldn't possibly believe I wouldn't have left this behind on purpose," he suggested as his laughter floated out. "Sydney, you should know by now than to expect it to be this easy," he pointed out, before the voice disappeared along with the image on the screen.

"I want you to start running a system analysis immediately. I want to catch *anything* they could possibly want to put into our system. There is no way in hell we're letting them get a leak," Kendall demanded as Marshall and the younger agent quickly got to work. "What the hell does Arvin Sloane think he's pulling?"

"I think my father would be better equipped to answer that question," Sydney reminded the director.

Kendall turned around and yelled at the nearest available agent, "Where the hell is Jack Bristow?"

"I-I-I don't know s-s-sir," the young agent stuttered, nearly tripping over his feet as he answered.

"Yes?" Jack wheeled up to join the group.

The FBI director looked over at the other man and spoke, "We've decoded the disk that Sark left behind in Georgia," he explained. Both men then shifted their attentions to Marshall, who was anxiously twisting his hands and looking at the two directors. Finally, Kendall snapped, "Marshall, the computer program."

"Oh, yes, of course, one second," he stuttered and quickly opened up the program. Jack silently watched the program play briefly across the screen before he looked up at the other director. One thing he despised about the loss of his legs was not his inability to walk; he'd never been much of an athlete anyway, but that he had to look up to face Kendall.

"Have you checked the system for any leaks or viruses?" Jack inquired.

Nodding his chin, Kendall answered, "I've got technical services on it."

"Clearly, the strategy behind this is to temporarily throw us off of the trail. Sark also hopes to discourage Sydney from her search by flaunting the CIA's shortcomings as her own. Which," he pointedly glanced at his daughter, "they are not."

"Are you implying that the CIA is not doing everything in its power to locate Irina Derevko and Arvin Sloane?" Kendall's voice rose slightly as his question progressed.

"What I'm implying is that Sark wishes for Sydney to see our failure to apprehend them as her own. We've had over two years to find them; she's had less than two months. We should have found Sloane and Derevko, along with Sark, years ago," Jack snapped back.

"All of our available, appropriate resources are being utilized," Kendall reminded him.

"Can't we get anything else off the disk? A time frame when it was made? Some idea of what country it was made in?" Sydney suggested, glancing briefly at Vaughn then at Marshall, who wrung together his visibly shaken hands.

"Some programs do leave that mark on a disk, but it's encoded," he nodded. "I could look."

"Why don't you," Kendall suggested as the gadget whiz quickly went to work. "As soon as we have *anything* on where this disk was manufactured, I'm going to want both of you on a plane." He looked pointedly at Sydney and Vaughn. "Now, if no one here objects, I have to go make sure that Mr. Sark's little stunt didn't put a leak in our system." He turned and left them.

"Dad -" Sydney began.

"None of this is because of you Sydney," Jack stopped her.

"How can you say that? This... message from Sark and Sloane was clearly directed at me."

"One thing Sloane shares with your mother, one quality I would assume Sark must share, is that there's always a reason. Always a strategy. It's rarely obvious, and it's rarely what you'd expect," he reminded her. With those as his parting words, he turned around and wheeled himself out of her line of sight.

"Are you okay?" Vaughn asked softly, standing near her side.

"Yeah," she nodded and looked briefly at her shoes. "What if we never catch him alive? What if he outlives us all? That's what Rambaldi was searching for, isn't it? Eternal life? What if Sloane's somehow figured out how to decode Rambaldi and given himself eternal life?"

"Maybe that's what he did with you," he quietly offered. "Maybe you're the one with eternal life."

Quickly she shook her head, "I wouldn't want to live forever."

"It's strange," he started, prompting her to meet his eyes. "When I was a kid, I used to want to live forever. To live to be a hundred and thirty five..." He smiled as she smiled back.

"And now?"

"What would be the point?" he shrugged. "I suppose there's always something to accomplish, always something to see, but what would be the point if everyone you loved couldn't be there with you?"

"Before she... left, my mom would take me to church. She'd tell me how the souls of everyone we ever loved, anyone who ever lived, were in the church. There were times when I couldn't even go in to church, I was so scared of all the dead bodies I thought were there," she laughed as he silently chuckled. "Somehow, in my mind, I had this image that there was this big room somewhere. That there were these boxes, each with an individual soul, and that if you opened them, somehow you'd get that person back. So I never wanted to live forever, I just wanted to find that room."

"Syd - "

"I was a kid Vaughn, maybe at the most nine. I'm fine now," she bravely smiled. Eventually she pried her eyes away from him, studying the computer screen where they'd first seen the animation. "I know it's completely self-absorbed and impractical..." She shook her head as his eyes were drawn to her profile. "But sometimes I swear Sark's only purpose in life is to make mine miserable."

"He's not going to win Syd. We had him once; we'll get him again. There's evidence to show he clearly has a flexible sense of loyalty. Sark's only interest in self preservation," he reminded her. "If we ever have the opportunity to corner him again, we'll easily apprehend him."

"Do you ever wonder why he does it?" Sydney asked. "He's young Vaughn, younger than we are. I was unwillingly forced into this business and he seems to be in it knowing exactly what he's doing and who he's doing it for."

"Maybe he doesn't care," Vaughn suggested. It seemed to him to be the most credible possibility. Some young men got their kicks out of sports or music; Sark got his in the world of international espionage.

"Hey, what'd I miss?" Weiss asked, walking up behind the two of them.

"Nothing," she shook her head.

Nodding, Weiss spoke, "Yeah, I ran into Kendall on my way in. He's not a happy man," he commented. "Are you holding up okay?" he looked at Sydney.

Forcing a smile, she lifted her brown eyes to look at both men. "I'll be fine," she insisted. "I should get to work," she realized as she walked away.

"She's so not fine," Weiss muttered under his breath.

"Tell me about it," Vaughn agreed, his eyes closely watching her as she returned to her desk.

"So, what are you going to do about it?" he finally asked.

Vaughn searched his best friend's face in exasperation and obvious confusion.

"C'mon, be a man. She's the one who gave you a drawer, along with this massive place in her life. Becky's gone. Isn't it about time you did something? Seriously, take her back to Nice. Relive your first date. Actually get to that damn hotel room this time; just don't forget my eclairs," he suggested, concluding with a gentle pat on his friend's arm before he walked away.





Sydney didn't see anyone again until the afternoon debrief. Walking in, she sat down and knew immediately what the meeting was about by simply reading the tensed _expression on Marshall's face. Moments later, when Kendall strode in with his face squeezed with wrinkles, her fears were confirmed. Turning to face the room, he began.

"Ladies and gentleman, unfortunately, even with the CIA's technology, we've been unable to gather any more substantial information off of the disk collected in Georgia. However, on a positive note, we were able to prevent any leak of information that Arvin Sloane may have been orchestrating. With that in mind, we're still no better equipped to pinpoint their location than we were before we retrieved the disk."

Resting her elbows on the table, she closed her hands and rested her chin on them, shaking her head in disbelief. "How is this possible? Between the two of them, my mother and Sloane must have contacts and resources on every continent, in nearly every country, and we can't get anyone to talk. There has to be someone, somewhere who's been blackmailed by these two, someone who wants them in custody as much as we do."

"Yes, but unfortunately Miss Bristow, these people are not likely to talk to the proper authorities."

"Then why let them know?" Vaughn spoke up. "Syd's got a point. I've posed as French Mafia before, the CIA's posed as other organizations in an attempt to gain information from an unwilling contact. If we can locate a contact, what stops us from posing as another organization to get the Intel we need?"

"At the moment, the only contacts we know the location of are dead," Jack explained. "We are, however, keeping a close track on Echelon and any financial transactions," he added. Then, meeting his daughter's eyes across the conference room he spoke again, "We're going to find them."

For the first time since she entered, she forced a smile and a nod. Deep in her mind, she hoped more than any other time in her life that it was a promise her father could keep.





Contradicting the meteorologists, the skies hadn't opened up by the time she stepped out of headquarters early that evening. Will had sat with her during lunch, listening to her vent her frustrations regarding her mother and the general condition of her life. At the end of her tired spiel, he explained that he was going out that night with Elise. Thanks to some slight groveling to Jack Bristow, he'd managed to get the CIA's tickets to the Staples Center to see the Lakers play. At her obvious worries, he'd explained that he'd left the managerial duties to one of their more experienced waitresses and insisted on multiple occasions that there was no need for her to go work.

"Hey!" Vaughn called, quickly running up to her as she approached her car.

Abruptly stopping at the sound of his familiar voice, she turned around and smiled, patiently waiting as he approached. "Hey."

Growing serious, he lowered his eyes to hers. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Sydney insisted, pushing hair behind her ear.

"Are you going to the restaurant?" he asked. A moment later her face flashed confusion so he added, "Will told me about his date tonight. Elise. Sounds pretty serious."

"It's becoming that way," she agreed. "I'm not going to the restaurant, one of the waitresses will be managing tonight," she explained

"So..." He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at her hopefully. "Where are you heading?"

"I have no food in my apartment, so I should probably go pick up a few things," she explained. "Why, do you need me to pick you up a few things?" she teased.

"I could go with you," he offered.

Sydney laughed under her breath and smiled. "Grocery shopping."

"Yeah," he grinned. "Why not?"

"Do you even need to?" she laughed.

"I must need something," he shrugged.

Laughing and shaking her head, she put her bag in her car and faced him. Unwilling to give up the offer to see more of him, she proposed, "Do you want to meet me at the grocery store?"

One thing they had never been together was conventional. Michael Vaughn had had over two years of attempting to be normal on his own, and knew better than to expect happiness from apparent normalcy. Needless to say, he was more than happy to meet Sydney on their pseudo-date at the grocery store. He'd changed into jeans and a T-shirt while Sydney had donned comfortable dark slacks and a baseball shirt. Nearly two hours later he found himself next to her side as she pushed a grocery cart through the fairly empty supermarket.

"What are you doing?" he laughed as he watched her pick up an apple and start to carefully examine it. Holding it between her pointer finger and thumb, she felt for bruises, bumps and any possible irregularities.

"What?" She looked up, grinning at his own wide smile. "I want to make sure I don't buy a bad apple."

"I didn't realize buying fruit was that difficult." He picked up an apple from the barrel, giving it a quick look over before he put it back in the barrel.

"I have to be careful," Sydney explained, tying the bag of apples and putting it in the cart. "I don't know when I'll have to leave, so I need to make sure I buy fruit that won't go bad in two days."

Vaughn nodded as they turned into an aisle of baked goods. He watched as she reached for a brand name bag of soft chocolate chip cookies, pausing when he said her name. "Those are not as good as these," he insisted, picking up a bag of store-brand chocolate chip cookies.

"You want me to believe that store brand is better than the brand that has the commercials with all the cute elves?" She grinned as he nodded. Sydney rolled her eyes but took the store-brand cookies, placing them in the cart. Again pushing the cart she questioned, "So, when are the Kings in town again?"

Before he could respond, their smiles faded as her cell phone rang. Impatiently, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the offensive item. "Hello."

"The Alliance once owned a warehouse on the outskirts of Paris; they stored documentation of weapons sales, drug trades, and blackmail there. Be there tomorrow night at quarter to eight."

Sydney felt the lump rise in her throat as the volume of her voice dropped, "Mom."