TITLE: Dissonance
AUTHOR: Lillian
RATING: PG for language mostly
SUMMARY: The Telling aftermath
SPOILERS: All the way through season two, post-episode for The Telling.
DISCLAIMER: The characters all belong to JJ, in whom I trust until September. If I owned them, I wouldn't be working a 2nd job.
A/N: A friend wrote a fic post Telling and it inspired my own bit of madness. This is my first non-humorous fan fiction that I've written all by myself. More Vaughn is its own animal. No beta for this one yet. Changes may occur later but for now this is it!
Chapter 5
The pain inside grew until she couldn't stand it and she cried, tears pouring from her eyes as her body was racked with sobs. She knew Sark was evil, knew that given the chance she would kill him without hesitation. Yet he had given her sexual pleasure such as she had never experienced before. How could she have enjoyed that? What kind of person did that make her? And this had been while Vaughn was still hers. Trying to reconcile f****** Sark, and liking it, with her love for Vaughn was driving her insane.
Vaughn. She was still in love with him. As far as her internal timeline was concerned, she had only fought with Francie's double a few days ago. She and Vaughn had been planning to go to Santa Barbara. Sydney closed her eyes and saw Vaughn's face. His beautiful green eyes, full of love for her. He had loved her, more completely than anyone. How could he have forgotten that, given her up for dead and married someone else in only 2 years? Sydney knew that if the roles had been reversed, she wouldn't have rested until she'd found him, alive or dead. She would have needed that closure. Moving on after Danny had died had been a natural progression. The finality of his death had allowed her to grieve, left her free to find love again.
And she had found love. Love that she had never known and would never know again. Vaughn was her soul mate. That he could have moved on so quickly cut her deeply. Sydney couldn't process it. The entire idea was absurd.
All of these thoughts swirled through her brain as her tears subsided. She had finally cried herself dry. She didn't think she had any more tears left inside of her. Thinking of Vaughn filled her with a dull pain that constricted around her heart. She knew she was going to have to face this, the fact that Vaughn was married to someone else.
She picked herself up off of the floor and went to the bathroom. She filled the sink with cold water and, pulling her hair back with her hand, submerged her face. The water felt good against her tear ravaged eyes. She released the stopper in the sink, dried herself off, and walked out through the bedroom and living room and into the kitchen. She hadn't eaten yet today and looking at the clock, saw that it was after 1 p.m. There hadn't been time when her father had come to take her to Dr. Barnett that morning.
She wasn't hungry but knew that not eating wasn't going to help her. She rummaged through the cupboards and found some soup. Nice, bland chicken noodle soup and perfect for the time being. She busied herself with the mundane tasks of opening the can, heating the soup and pouring it into a plain white bowl. She sipped the hot soup and felt the heat from it all the way down to her stomach. It was familiar and soothing.
She felt a bit calmer after she finished eating. While she washed the bowl and spoon, she decided she needed some answers. She needed to find out what had happened with Vaughn over the past 2 years. Unfortunately, for that she needed to talk to Vaughn. She wasn't sure that would be such a good idea. On one hand, she wanted nothing more than to hear him, to wrap herself in the cadence of his voice. On the other hand, it would be torture. Exquisite torture, but so painful nonetheless.
She wasn't sure what to do and hated it. Indecision never sat well with her. It made her angry. Angry was better than this indecisiveness. The hell with this s***, she thought.
She turned and walked into the living room. She picked up the phone and heard a CIA operator come on the line.
"How may I help you, Ms. Bristow?" The cool, efficient voice asked.
"I'd like to speak to Agent Michael Vaughn please." Points to me for being polite, Sydney thought.
"I'm sorry, Michael Vaughn is no longer with the CIA, Ms. Bristow."
The ache in Sydney's heart was turning into despair. "Not with the CIA? Ok." Sydney's mind raced as she tried to think who would know where Vaughn was. "May I speak to Director Kendall please?"
"Certainly. Please hold while I transfer you." The line clicked and was silent except for the occasional tone that let Sydney know she hadn't been disconnected.
"Director Kendall's office, Mary Beth speaking. How may I help you?"
"I'd like to speak to the Director please."
"May I ask who's calling?"
"Sydney Bristow. Please, it's important."
"Of course, Ms. Bristow. Please hold for a moment while I see if the Director is available." The line clicked again and once more Sydney was listening to the computer generated beeping.
Sydney wrapped the phone cord around her fingers as she waited for Kendall to come on the line. Come on you bald headed bastard, Sydney thought, answer the phone. More beeping. Sydney was about to yell at the phone in frustration when Kendall finally picked up.
"Sydney. How are you doing?"
"I'm fine, Director. I need a favor, please. Could you please tell me how I might get in touch with Michael Vaughn?" I said please, so you better tell me before I come down there and beat your face in, Sydney thought.
She heard Kendall sigh as though she was asking for the world. And in a way, she was. She was asking for the key to her world. "I can't do that, Sydney. Mr. Vaughn's whereabouts are classified and you're not cleared to have access to that information."
"Director Kendall. I've just been through some of the worst days of my life. All of them caused by the CIA. The least you can do is to give me Vaughn's phone number." The anger and frustration were evident in her voice and she didn't care as long as she found out what she needed to know.
"Sydney," Kendall exhaled loudly into the phone, "I can't do that. I'd give you the information if I could, but I can't." And with that, he hung up.
Sydney almost screamed as she slammed the receiver down. She had furiously paced the living room 5 times before she calmed down enough to realize what Kendall had said by emphasizing the fact that he couldn't tell her. He couldn't give her the information but someone else could.
Sydney picked the receiver up again. When the operator came on the line, Sydney asked for the one person she knew would tell her what she needed to know.
"Can you get me Jack Bristow please?"
AUTHOR: Lillian
RATING: PG for language mostly
SUMMARY: The Telling aftermath
SPOILERS: All the way through season two, post-episode for The Telling.
DISCLAIMER: The characters all belong to JJ, in whom I trust until September. If I owned them, I wouldn't be working a 2nd job.
A/N: A friend wrote a fic post Telling and it inspired my own bit of madness. This is my first non-humorous fan fiction that I've written all by myself. More Vaughn is its own animal. No beta for this one yet. Changes may occur later but for now this is it!
Chapter 5
The pain inside grew until she couldn't stand it and she cried, tears pouring from her eyes as her body was racked with sobs. She knew Sark was evil, knew that given the chance she would kill him without hesitation. Yet he had given her sexual pleasure such as she had never experienced before. How could she have enjoyed that? What kind of person did that make her? And this had been while Vaughn was still hers. Trying to reconcile f****** Sark, and liking it, with her love for Vaughn was driving her insane.
Vaughn. She was still in love with him. As far as her internal timeline was concerned, she had only fought with Francie's double a few days ago. She and Vaughn had been planning to go to Santa Barbara. Sydney closed her eyes and saw Vaughn's face. His beautiful green eyes, full of love for her. He had loved her, more completely than anyone. How could he have forgotten that, given her up for dead and married someone else in only 2 years? Sydney knew that if the roles had been reversed, she wouldn't have rested until she'd found him, alive or dead. She would have needed that closure. Moving on after Danny had died had been a natural progression. The finality of his death had allowed her to grieve, left her free to find love again.
And she had found love. Love that she had never known and would never know again. Vaughn was her soul mate. That he could have moved on so quickly cut her deeply. Sydney couldn't process it. The entire idea was absurd.
All of these thoughts swirled through her brain as her tears subsided. She had finally cried herself dry. She didn't think she had any more tears left inside of her. Thinking of Vaughn filled her with a dull pain that constricted around her heart. She knew she was going to have to face this, the fact that Vaughn was married to someone else.
She picked herself up off of the floor and went to the bathroom. She filled the sink with cold water and, pulling her hair back with her hand, submerged her face. The water felt good against her tear ravaged eyes. She released the stopper in the sink, dried herself off, and walked out through the bedroom and living room and into the kitchen. She hadn't eaten yet today and looking at the clock, saw that it was after 1 p.m. There hadn't been time when her father had come to take her to Dr. Barnett that morning.
She wasn't hungry but knew that not eating wasn't going to help her. She rummaged through the cupboards and found some soup. Nice, bland chicken noodle soup and perfect for the time being. She busied herself with the mundane tasks of opening the can, heating the soup and pouring it into a plain white bowl. She sipped the hot soup and felt the heat from it all the way down to her stomach. It was familiar and soothing.
She felt a bit calmer after she finished eating. While she washed the bowl and spoon, she decided she needed some answers. She needed to find out what had happened with Vaughn over the past 2 years. Unfortunately, for that she needed to talk to Vaughn. She wasn't sure that would be such a good idea. On one hand, she wanted nothing more than to hear him, to wrap herself in the cadence of his voice. On the other hand, it would be torture. Exquisite torture, but so painful nonetheless.
She wasn't sure what to do and hated it. Indecision never sat well with her. It made her angry. Angry was better than this indecisiveness. The hell with this s***, she thought.
She turned and walked into the living room. She picked up the phone and heard a CIA operator come on the line.
"How may I help you, Ms. Bristow?" The cool, efficient voice asked.
"I'd like to speak to Agent Michael Vaughn please." Points to me for being polite, Sydney thought.
"I'm sorry, Michael Vaughn is no longer with the CIA, Ms. Bristow."
The ache in Sydney's heart was turning into despair. "Not with the CIA? Ok." Sydney's mind raced as she tried to think who would know where Vaughn was. "May I speak to Director Kendall please?"
"Certainly. Please hold while I transfer you." The line clicked and was silent except for the occasional tone that let Sydney know she hadn't been disconnected.
"Director Kendall's office, Mary Beth speaking. How may I help you?"
"I'd like to speak to the Director please."
"May I ask who's calling?"
"Sydney Bristow. Please, it's important."
"Of course, Ms. Bristow. Please hold for a moment while I see if the Director is available." The line clicked again and once more Sydney was listening to the computer generated beeping.
Sydney wrapped the phone cord around her fingers as she waited for Kendall to come on the line. Come on you bald headed bastard, Sydney thought, answer the phone. More beeping. Sydney was about to yell at the phone in frustration when Kendall finally picked up.
"Sydney. How are you doing?"
"I'm fine, Director. I need a favor, please. Could you please tell me how I might get in touch with Michael Vaughn?" I said please, so you better tell me before I come down there and beat your face in, Sydney thought.
She heard Kendall sigh as though she was asking for the world. And in a way, she was. She was asking for the key to her world. "I can't do that, Sydney. Mr. Vaughn's whereabouts are classified and you're not cleared to have access to that information."
"Director Kendall. I've just been through some of the worst days of my life. All of them caused by the CIA. The least you can do is to give me Vaughn's phone number." The anger and frustration were evident in her voice and she didn't care as long as she found out what she needed to know.
"Sydney," Kendall exhaled loudly into the phone, "I can't do that. I'd give you the information if I could, but I can't." And with that, he hung up.
Sydney almost screamed as she slammed the receiver down. She had furiously paced the living room 5 times before she calmed down enough to realize what Kendall had said by emphasizing the fact that he couldn't tell her. He couldn't give her the information but someone else could.
Sydney picked the receiver up again. When the operator came on the line, Sydney asked for the one person she knew would tell her what she needed to know.
"Can you get me Jack Bristow please?"