Chapter Thirteen - This Can Be Our Secret, We Can Keep It Good
Visiting is pretty
Visiting is good
Seems that all they ever wanted was a brother
This can be a secret
We can keep it good
Even all the ever wanting had a problem
This is a call to all my
Past resignations
This is a call to all
"This is a Call," Foo Fighters
[Syd's POV]
Saturday Evening
It's Saturday night and I'm sitting in a bowling alley watching twenty five Elvis impersonators trying to win Priscilla's hand in marriage. And by Priscilla, I mean Shirley.
Yeah, I definitely never thought I'd ever be in this situation. Ever.
"Is this what they call fun, here in Stuckeyville?" Will whispers, leaning toward me. I can't hide my laughter as I turn towards him.
"As much as I hate to say it...Yes."
"Hey! We heard that!" Carol exclaims nudging Will's shoulder away from mine. "This isn't how we usually spend our Saturday nights, just so you know. We just thought this could very possibly rank in our 'strangest nights ever' list. You gotta admit watching these guys fight over Shirley is hysterical."
"I guess so, but an hour straight of twenty five semi-bald, middle aged, Elvis impersonators' renditions of 'Love Me Tender', 'I Can't Help Falling in Love', 'Unchained Melody', and 'Teddy Bear' get really old really fast."
"Trust me, I feel your pain, Will. Just be thankful you don't have to deal with this every weekend." Ed adds, shaking his head sadly.
I'm about to speak up when I sense Michael coming back. Will turns his head towards him and gives him a nod. Michael smiles, then makes his way over to me.
"Hey," I say, standing up as I place my hands on his chest and give him a brief kiss.
Yeah, this'll never get old. I can't help but love the extra attention he's been giving to me for the past day or so. Hey, I may be an independent, strong woman who doesn't need any man's appreciation to live a happy and successful life, but when it's Michael Vaughn...I don't even need to go on. Let's just say, these past few days have made up for the year or so that I had to spend lusting after him and not being able to act on it.
I think he's been extra possessive because of Will. I have absolutely no idea why, but something's definitely up. I've never seen Michael as the possessive type, but seeing that he dueled a teenager for my affections, maybe I've just had him wrong this whole time.
There's no reason to be jealous of Will. I mean, he's Will. And Michael is Michael. There's no contest whatsoever.
"Boo! Get a room!" I smile against his lips as I hear Ed's mocking voice and feel popcorn hit our faces. We pull apart and all I see is Michael's sparkling green eyes.
"We would, but some of us aren't as lucky as Mr. Tippin over here," Michael says grinning at Ed then turning to Will. I still wonder why the CIA decided not to give Will a new name and identity, but I guess they know what's best.
Good lord. What has happened to me?!
But yeah, how Will got his own place, I don't know. And yes, he does look a bit uncomfortable when me and Michael have our moments of PDA, but I have a feeling it's more of a getting used to a new situation thing, rather than burning jealousy thing. Will isn't that kind of guy. He's my best friend, he'd never be jealous.
"Yeah, I know. Jack really hooked me up down here." Will jokes.
"Hooked you up?" Michael asks, shaking his head. "Okay, Will, never say that again."
"Hey, what's so wrong with getting hooked up in the hizzouse?" Mike asks, straight faced.
All of us suddenly burst out into hysterical laughter.
"What?" Mike asks, in mock confusion. Nancy places her hand over her eyes and just shakes her head sadly.
"Mike, remember how I told you to think before you say?" She asks.
"Hey! Quiet down over there. We've got a competition going on in case you fools didn't realize it." Phil calls out.
"Speaking of which, Phil, it's time for you to wrap this show up," Ed replies, standing up and stretching his arms.
"What do you mean, 'wrap this show up'?" Phil asks, hurt. "No one ever told Shakespeare to 'wrap' Macbeth 'up.' No one told Bach to 'wrap' his music-playing 'up.' No one told that Britannica dude to 'wrap' his encyclopedia 'up'--"
"Okay, I get the point, Phil. All I'm saying is that it's getting to be ten fifteen and there's nobody here but us. Clearly, it's been a slow night so why don't you just wrap this up and we'll all head out of here so we can show Will here what Stuckeyville night life is really about."
"Stuckeyville nightlife? We have a nightlife?" Molly asks.
"Ha ha, real funny." Ed says, sitting back down.
"So wait, let me get this straight. You and Vaughn here went to college together?" Will asks, changing the subject.
Now I love Will, but sometimes he's so incredibly clueless. Time to shoot him the death stare of his lifetime.
"Michael Saunders," Michael says quietly as he leans toward him.
"Oh, sorry, man," Will apologizes immediately.
"It's no problem, but just make sure it doesn't happen again when we're out in public."
"Yeah, yeah, sorry." Will says regretfully.
"Me and Ed did go to college together though. Columbia, actually." Michael continues. Sigh. You gotta love it when your boyfriend wants to be nice to your best guy friend, and actually become chummy chummy despite his suspicion. Michael is like the best boyfriend any girl could ever like, have. Now if only I had the gum, pink t-shirt and high ponytail...I could rock the valley girl like no other.
My name is, like, Sydney, and my favorite things are like boys, Duran Duran, and boys that like Duran Duran.
"I had no clue you went to Columbia!" Will exclaims. "My sister went there! It's a beautiful campus."
"I thought Amy was down at USC?" I ask, getting back into the conversation.
"Well, yeah, she is now, but she went to Columbia for undergrad."
"Oh yeah," I respond, as it all comes back to me. "Amy's so cool, Michael, you'd love her." I say, looping my arm through Michael's. He just laughs.
"I'll have to meet her one of these days," he says, looking down at me, then back at Will.
"Definitely." Will responds.
"What about you, Will? Where did you go for college?" Ed asks, curiously.
"I actually went to Georgetown. Yeah, I was a hardcore English Lit major." He replies, scratching his head. Wow, college. It seems like a lifetime since college -- since my life wasn't the giant pile of sh-t it was before I came here.
"So did you know you wanted to become a journalist slash reporter from the beginning or did you have other things in mind first?" Carol asks, incredibly interested.
Whoa there. Carol's not allowed to show interest in Will. I will not let Carol show interest in Will! Carol has the hots for Ed and that's final! Me and Mikey-Bear really need to formulate some plan to get those two lovebirds together.
Yes, I did just say "Mikey-Bear." I'm allowed to call my boyfriend whatever the Hell I want to. It's my mind, isn't it?
Okay, fine, "Mikey-Bear" is out.
"Actually, that's a crazy story...I always wanted to become an actor. Not like a TV or movie actor -- I wanted to become one of those off Broadway, Shakespeare in the Park, 'acting is my life's work' kind of actor. But I fugred the best way to ease myself into it, was to really get behind what I saw as an actor's inspiration: literature. Before I knew it, my hopes of becoming an actor were gone and I was ready to hit the 'writing' road. I thought journalism would help inspire me, let me really develop my skills before getting into it. And I figured, if Hemingway started as a journalist, it couldn't be that bad. And then I fell in love with writing, and I guess that's what really stuck."
"Wow, how deep," Michael said, sitting back. "You are quite an impressive intellectual, my friend."
"Why thank you. Let me just say, that's the first time anyone has ever said that to me in my life."
Awww, they're bonding! THEY'RE BONDING!
"That's incredible," Carol says, googly eyed. This girl isn't allowed to fall for Will. Damn his intellect and blue eyes! I bet if he actually bothered to make his hair, shave, and wore smelly clothes, none of this would have happened. We need a plan ASAP. "That's how I wish my life turned out."
"What do you mean?" Will asks.
"Yeah, what do you mean?" Ed repeats, suddenly serious.
Carol quickly wipes the look of disappointment off her face and plasters a smile back on. "Oh nothing. I love teaching, I'd never give it up for the world."
Now that's sketchy. Ed clearly has some insight into what that little microscopic breakdown was about. This is a step. Him showing interest is excellent, now we just need her to stop oogling over Will and have some sort of conflict with Ed that needs a resolution. Fast.
There's tension. I feel it for sure. Tension is perfect.
"Oh man, I would never be able to teach. Just ask--" Will is suddenly cut off by the shriek of the microphone.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a winner! Elvis number twenty two, come on up and claim your prize!" Phil exclaims from his makeshift stage. We all sit in utter confusion as "Elvis number twenty two" walks onto the stage and lets Shirley take his hand. "And we wish the new couple all the best! Remeber to tune in next week when we'll show how the couple has gotten along and check on the status of their relationship. 'Til then, goodnight from all of us here at 'Which Elvis Will Priscilla Pick?'"
My face drops and I turn to Ed.
"You couldn't even help him come up with a better title? You let all of this go on and the least you could do is come up with a good title. This is a sad, sad night in the history of the Stuckeybowl." I say sadly.
"Hey! You've only been here for a week or so. You haven't seen 'Jackass Night' and Eli and Phil's Birthday Song Competition." Molly adds in.
"Okay, I'm not even going to go there." I respond. All the Elvises file out of the Stuckeybowl and we all stand as Eli turns the camera off and Shirley slaps "Elvis twenty two" and sends him on his way.
"I suppose this is all a part of that new reality TV show you wanted me to star in?" Michael asks as Phil makes his way towards us.
"It's your loss, Michaelangelo. You could have had fame, fortune, and probably an E! True Hollywood Story under your belt, but you turned it all down."
"I'm pretty sure I'm cool with not being an Elvis impersonator."
Michael as Elvis? Good Lord. That would be beyond hot. And I'm not talking about Old Elvis, hopped up on his sleeping pills and running around in rhinestone studded jumpsuits. I mean lean, fit, sexy Young Elvis who had all the girls swooning.
Wow, I'm so hormonal.
"That's where you're wrong. This, my friend, is but a test. I guess you could say it's an audition. We're going to send this puppy to NBC and they will be shocked by our utter brillancee and come begging me for more. And that is where you would come in. It's called baby steps." Phil says, taking the tape from Eli.
"Baby steps, Phil?" Ed asks.
"You gotta learn to crawl before you can walk, Bosco."
"Eli, how could you agree to do this?" Ed asks, exasperatedly.
"I don't know how I got sucked into it, man. All I know is that if it works, I'll have a posse of my own and bling bling up the shizzle."
"See, that's how it's supposed to sound, honey." Nancy says, pointing to Eli.
"What did you say?" Eli snaps, defensively.
"Oh, nothing, Eli," Nancy responds sweetly, "Mike was just trying to get the ghetto speak down earlier, and it was horrible, so I was just saying..."
"I'm just playin'," Eli jokes, laughing.
Suddenly, Warren, Mark and Diane come through the doors. Just when I thought it couldn't get any crazier...
"Was it just me or did twenty five Elvis impersonators just come out of here?" Mark asks, looking behind him as he walks toward us.
These are the coolest teenagers on the face of this planet. If I had friends like them, I would have had the best high school experience in recorded history.
I exaggerate, I know.
"H-hi, Ms. Hanton," Warren says, nervously.
"Hey, Warren," I say nicely. Warren is the cutest.
"Mr. Saunders, I just want to say, once again, that it was a battle well fought and that I have nothing but respect for you, in my book." He walks toward Michael and reaches his hand out to be shaked. Michael laughs and shakes his hand in return.
"Battle?" Will asks. Will is so out of the loop. Geez, get with the times, man.
"And who is this?" Warren asks suspiciously moving towards Will.
"This is my friend, Will. Will, this is one of my students, Warren Cheswick." I say, introducing the two of them to each other. "And these two are Diane and Mark...Two more of my students."
"Hey, guys," Will says, shaking their hands individually.
Diane tries so hard to hide her inner-hormonal teenager, but there's no doubt about it: her and Michael and Will in the same room has put a blinding smile on her face. I know I've only been here for a week, but I've never seen her as happy as she is right now, and, quite frankly, I'm kinda scared.
"So what's this battle you guys are talking about?" Will asks once again.
"Oh, it was nothing. Warren and Michael here just dueled for Sydney's affections yesterday." Molly says, nonchalantly.
"It's a long story, I'll fill you in later," Michael says, shaking his head. I know he loved it. He may come off as a sweet, humble guy, but deep down inside, he's just as egocentric as the rest of them.
"Yo, Ed. We're gonna be heading out. We'll see ya tomorrow." Eli calls out as he, Phil and Shirley walk out of the Stuckeybowl.
"Thanks for letting me know, Eli," Ed calls out in response.
Right as the door closes, Diane speaks up.
"So, are you from LA, too?" Is that girl batting her eyelashes? What is this?! It's like she hasn't seen full grown men before!
And yes, I'm allowed to be possessive over my best friend and my boyfriend. That's just a part of the Bristow game.
"Yup," Will responds, sitting back down.
"Wait, so all of you guys just happened to move to Stuckeyville at the same time? Strange." Warren says, sitting next to Will. Will turns to me, unsure what to say.
"It's a long story," I say, moving back towards Michael.
"Yeah, and it's late guys. You should probably head out because I think I'm gonna lock up." Ed replies, stepping forward. Way to go, Ed. Taking charge of the situation.
"But we just got here and we don't feel like going back to our boring homes and watching lame Saturday night movies." Mark complains.
"Sorry, guys, but--" Ed is suddenly cut off by Michael.
"Hey, Ed, are you expecting any deliveries right now?" He asks suspiciously as he peers through the door.
"No, why?" Ed asks, suddenly concerned.
"Because I think we've got some company," Michael says, walking hurriedly back towards us. "Sark's here."
Holy f-cking sh-t. What do you mean 'Sark's here'? That's not humanly possible. Sark is not allowed in this world. He's not allowed, dammit!
"What?!" I exclaim, in shock.
"You've gotta be kidding me. What is that son of a bitch doing here?" Will asks, angrily.
"I don't know." Michael says, turning to me. "Syd, you have to stay out of sight, we don't want them to know you're here. Keep everyone out of danger. Ed? You're coming with me." Michael says, walking back towards the shoe rental island.
"Who's Sark?" Carol asks nervously.
"What's happening?" Diane asks, also scared.
"Why can't this guy know you're here, Ms. Hanton?" Oh God, my cover is gone. How am I going to make sure these kids don't blow it? That's beside the point, I have to keep them back.
"I'll explain everything to you guys later, right now, you just have to stay on this side of the alley." I say as the door suddenly opens.
"I'm sorry, but we were about to close up," Michael says walking towards the two large men who entered the door. Definitely two of Sark's men. I could recognize them anywhere. But what the Hell am I doing here? I should be out there kicking some ass.
"I don't think so," one man responds. Just as he reaches in his jacket, the other one makes a swing at Michael's head, but he ducks just in time. Ed goes after the unarmed one, and Michael elbows his guy in the chest before bracing himself for a fight.
Ed's got mad skillz. Seriously.
He's kicking ass like very few agents I have ever seen. It's sad that the CIA had to lose such a valuble asset.
They are fighting hand to hand, or fist to fist rather, because neither of the big guys are able to get ahold of their guns. Sh-t. I spoke too soon. What the Hell is Michael doing?! He's on the guys shoulders. Okay, maybe not exactly, but he has the guy in a headlock, but he's dangling off of his back. The guy has a gun and he's dangling off of his back. Is this what they taught him in CST?! Apparently, Ed has taken his guy down, and now he's giving Michael some assistance. Ed kicks the guy in the gut, prompting Michael to jump down and reach for something by his ankle. His Base Ops name isn't Boyscout for nothing. This man is always prepared. He reaches for his gun and hits the big guy with the butt of his gun briskly and roughly. Oh God, there are more--
Before I know it, I've raced out and I'm kicking ass beside Michael and Ed. All I know is that there are a lot of flying limbs and it's not pretty. Michael won't shoot his gun because it's too dangerous...There are too many people and he doesn't want to draw attention to us and the Stuckeybowl, I know it.
I don't know how long it is before we take all the guys out, but we do. I hear Will walk up towards me, but before I can tell him to go back, the door opens again.
"Well, well. I came looking for Mr. Tippin, but it seems as though I have found a diamond in the rough." Son of a British Bitch.
"Freeze!" Michael demands, pointing his gun at Sark.
"As you wish, Mr. Vaughn. I'm always willing to comply." Sark slowly raises his arms in the air, and begins to walk towards us.
"I said don't move." Michael repeats.
"If I recall correctly, Mr. Vaughn, you said 'freeze.' You Americans really do have quite a fascination with old and hackneyed phrases, do you not?"
"What the Hell do you want?" I ask, walking towards him.
"Sydney, don't." I hear Michael say as I continue to walk.
"Well, Ms. Bristow, you're disappearance has really sent the world of espionage into a mess. We don't know what to do without you." Sark says sarcastically.
"I'm sure," I respond harshly. "What the Hell do you want? Tell me now or we will kill you with absolutely no hesitation. And I'm fairly certain you're presence won't be missed."
"By 'we' do you mean your boyfriend? Or is he still your 'handler'? I guess agent-handler protocol bears no importance in this Stuckey-land you two have taken shelter in."
I walk within inches of Sark and begin to check for arms. I pat him down and pull out two guns from his jacket and pants. I take one and toss the other to Ed.
"Oh, please continue, Ms. Bristow. I rather enjoyed it." Sark sneers. I would spit in his face, but I think it'll put a bad impression on the Stuckeyville gang. Yeah, I'm going to protect them, and yeah my cover has been blown with the kids, but I still have my self respect I need to maintain.
"Who sent you here?" I say.
Silence.
"Who sent you here?" I scream into his face.
He flinches slightly, then a smile grows.
"If you're asking whether SD-6 or Arvin Sloane knows where you are, they don't. I cut all ties shortly after you and you're little CIA friends failed in overtaking SD-6. I really would have thought that the CIA would have been a little more careful with such an important mission. But I guess even the best screw up once in awhile, don't they?"
That's it.
I don't know how my fist ends up in his face, I really don't.
"Yeah, sometimes." I respond. "Now, who knows we're here. Tell me know or you're really going to regret it."
"No one." He says seriously. "Like I said, I'm on my own now. I don't work for anyone. I was curious as to what happened to you and you're little boy toy over there, and I figured I might as well look you up. But the CIA did a good job at covering your tracks. So I turned to your friend over there. He didn't know it but I had been tailing him since the day after you two left. That's why your father sent him here. I'm suprised you didn't put two and two together sooner. You're mother would be disappointed."
Whoa, there really must be something wrong with my fist, because it somehow found his face again.
He puts his hands down and touches his face. There is a fairly steady stream of blood coming from his nose, and I can't help but smile.
"Yeah, she probably would be," I retort, grinning.
"You little bitch..." He says, inspecting his hand, sticky with blood.
Suddenly I see the butt of Michael's gun hit Sark in the jaw, and he falls to the ground, limp.
"Nobody calls her a bitch." He says, kicking his lifeless body in the ribs. "Nobody."
I take a deep breath and slowly open my eyes. I turn to Michael, then to Ed.
"What do we do?" I ask, tiredly.
"I'll tie these guys up. They won't be up for a few hours, atleast." Ed says, moving towards the the big guys, checking their pockets, then Sark's.
I turn back to Michael, who is already on his cell, with Weiss apparently.
"Yeah, Weiss? Our cover's blown. Sark found us and he knows Syd's CIA. He said he was alone, but we don't know if he was lying or not. Check it out and make sure Devlin makes a call to Langley now so that we can get these guys out of Stuckeyville before sunrise. There's no way we can get someone from LA here in time."
Oh God, this is all happening so fast.
Will looks frightened, but is still in control. He's seen worse, and he knows everything will be alright. But Carol, Molly, Nancy, Mike, Warren, Diane, and Mark? I'm not so sure.
"Um...Warren, Diane, Mark...I have something to tell you guys." I say slowly, as I walk back towards seven individuals who look like they have just looked death in the eyes. All they need is their hair to be on end. That would be funny. Or not. Because this isn't a funny situation at all. Oh God.
"Hell yes, you have something to tell us!" Warren exclaims, shaking his head. "CIA?! SD-6?! Langley?! Sark?! Vaughn?! Bristow?!"
"Who are you guys?" Diane asks wearily.
I look back at Michael as he puts his cell away and walks towards me.
"I know this will be hard to believe, but...We work for the CIA..."
Here we go again.
END CHAPTER THIRTEEN
