Part 2   -  Eighteen Hours

Vaughn left the room for a few minutes and, when he returned, he had an armful of clothes, a couple of wigs, and a make-up case which he placed on the bed.  In a professional tone, he stated, "Sorry that there's not a better selection, but this is all San has on hand and we really need to get going.  I'll be right down the hall getting ready.  I'll be back in a half an hour.  Do you think you have everything you need?"

"Yeah, but Vaughn…", she hesitated before continuing, "can't I go with you?"

Vaughn hesitated, having been caught off-guard by her request, "I… I don't think that's a good idea".  His awkward demeanor told Sydney that he had misinterpreted her concern, although she did feel the need to be near him.

"You're going to leave me in here with them?" she whispered, shrugging toward the tapestry.

Vaughn blushed at his error.  "God Syd, I'm sorry.  I don't know what I was thinking", he fumbled over his words as he walked toward the wall and ripped down the fabric.  Just as he picked up an ashtray and was about to smash the lens of the small camera, the cell phone rang once again.  Vaughn simply looked at the camera and said, "Have it your way, it's either this or she comes with me right now."  The phone immediately stopped ringing.

After smashing in the camera, Vaughn stuffed a scarf in the hole he had created, just to make sure she had privacy.  Then, he turned to her and whispered, "See you in half an hour" and left the room.

Sydney took a deep breath and headed over to the bed.  She shook her head in dismay over the wardrobe selection.  She realized that it really shouldn't have surprised her though.  After all, the district of Tsim Shat Sui in Kowloon wasn't only known for its shopping, it was also the red light district of Hong Kong.  She had stuck out like a sore thumb when she had come in wearing those jeans and that sweater last night.  Foraging through the pile, she settled on a shoulder-length platinum blonde wig, a black leather mini slit up both sides, fishnet stockings, thigh-high boots and a pink off-the-shoulder top that left little to the imagination.  She wasn't thrilled with the outfit, but at least she'd blend in.

A half an hour later, she was just putting the finishing touches on her make up when she heard a knock on the door.  "May I come in", Vaughn inquired.  "Of course, I'm all set" was her reply.

She barely recognized Vaughn when he came in.  He had put blonde highlights in his hair and spiked it all up.  He was wearing tight black jeans and a long-sleeved black T-shirt.  He was carrying a short black leather jacket which had some silver chains on it.  Conspicuous by its absence was the gold band he had been wearing earlier.  She couldn't fault him – Dixon had often removed his ring when on a mission.  Anyway, given the way she was dressed, having a married pimp would seem odd.  As a final touch, he had put in blue contacts and was wearing small rectangular eyeglasses.  She found it hard to suppress a laugh.

"People in glass minis…" was all he said when he saw the look on her face, although he did give her outfit an appreciative glance.  Snapping back to business mode, he continued, "Anyway, you should really change your eye color.  Just to be safe."

Sydney nodded in agreement and selected a blue/violet set of contacts out the makeup case.   As she placed them in her eyes, there was a knock on the door.  It was San, the manager of the safe house.  "I just wanted to let you know that your car is here.  It's the same one that brought you from the airport."  Vaughn gave an appreciative nod and turned to Sydney, "Time to go".

When they got downstairs, Sydney was heading to the front door when Vaughn stopped her.  "We should go out the back door and then down the alley just in case anyone tracked you here."  Of course, he was right.  Maybe it really had been two years.  She was losing her touch.

Walking down the alley toward the street, they passed a local parking his motorcycle.  When they neared the entrance to the alley, Vaughn held her back by the elbow.  "Wait a minute.  There's our car, the taxi, but the driver is talking to someone.  Let's wait until they finish up."  They ducked back slightly.

The man who was talking to the driver had leaned down and seemed to be showing him something.  It looked like a photo.  The man was older, Caucasian and seemed to be dressed like a missionary or priest.  The driver shook his head and shrugged.  Another much taller and younger man joined him and they both faced toward the alley.  Vaughn heard Sydney's breath catch in her throat and asked, "What is it?"

"I know them.  I don't know how, but they seem very familiar…"

"Well, we're not taking any chances", Vaughn replied, pulling her back down the alley.  He paused by the motorcycle.  "Are you up for a little ride?"

After he had finished hot wiring the bike, he rummaged through the storage compartment and pulled out the helmet, handing it to her.  "Here put this on and, while you're at it, put this on too…", he said while shrugging off the leather jacket.

"Vaughn...", Sydney interjected, "Pimps aren't exactly known for being chivalrous…". 

"Just do it !" , he barked at her, catching her off-guard, and then he climbed on the bike.

"Alright, alright…", she conceded, straddling the bike behind him after donning the helmet and jacket.

After she had climbed on and had grabbed him by the waist, he seemed to stiffen and hesitate.  "Vaughn??" she queried.  With that, he broke out of his reverie and started the bike.

They proceeded to the head of the alley only to find that the two men who had been talking to the cab driver were now obstructing it – deep in conversation.  Vaughn leaned on the horn in an attempt to get them to move, which they did.  Then, as he paused momentarily for a break in the street traffic, the younger man turned toward Sydney and uttered a disbelieving, "Suzanne??"  Sydney gave the man a startled look, but before he or his companion could come any closer, Vaughn gunned the motorcycle into traffic.  Sydney looked back to see the two men scurrying towards a car.

"Are they following us?" cried Vaughn.

"They're in their car, but not in traffic yet."

"Hang on!" he yelled as he revved the bike and started weaving in and out of the heavy traffic.  Before long, the car and its occupants were well out of sight. 

As they drove out of Kowloon, across the Tsing Ma Bridge, and onto the Lantau Link, Vaughn started to relax slightly, still marveling at the unreality of the situation.  The day before yesterday, he believed that she was dead and he was getting on with his life as best he could.  Now, two days later, here she was, the warm length of her leaning into him, with her arms wrapped around his waist.  The night was mild, there was a full harvest moon, and the wind felt good through his hair.  The beautiful Hong Kong skyline was lit up across the water.  Granted, this could all still be an elaborate set up, but for the moment he had decided to enjoy the ride.

Within the hour, they had reached the airport, hidden the motorcycle, and were settling themselves in the cabin of a private jet.  The co-pilot came into the cabin carrying a large duffel and handed it to Vaughn.  "We were beginning to worry about you.  Your ride called and said you were a no show.  We'll be taking off in about 10 minutes.  Here's everything she'll need when we arrive – clothes, passport, etc.,..  You might as well settle in.  Including the layover on Midway, it'll be 18 hours before we reach the Seattle area."

"I remember…", said Vaughn rolling his eyes.

"Sorry, the other crew said one of the passengers had just come over a few hours ago.  You must be him."

"Yeah, lucky me…"

"Well, the galley's fully stocked and, if you didn't already know it, that isn't a closet.  There is actually a shower back there, though I won't claim it's much good.  Water pressure stinks and, be warned, there's only a 15-minute supply of lukewarm water.  Any port in a storm though, eh?"

"Thanks.  We'll let you know if we need anything."

The co-pilot headed back to the cockpit.

Sydney looked over to Vaughn, "Seattle?" 

"Yeah", Vaughn replied, "They want to keep a low profile on this so you're going in through a CIA-enclave in the San Juan Islands".

"Why not Bainbridge?"

"We don't have that one anymore".

"Oh", she paused before continuing, "Will my Dad be there?"

"No, I doubt that they've been able to reach him", said Vaughn averting his gaze.

"What does that mean?"

"Listen, after takeoff, why don't you get changed into some more comfortable clothes before we start talking.  There's a small bedroom at the back.  I'm not trying to be evasive, but explaining things is going to take a while.  Besides, I can't imagine that you want to be wearing that for the duration."  Not to mention the fact that he did not need to see her wearing it.  She nodded in agreement and he handed her the duffel. 

After takeoff, Sydney headed back to the bedroom with the duffel.  It was just big enough to fit a full-size bed.  At the foot of the bed, there was a set of built-in shelves.  There were also three pieces of carry-on luggage crammed into them. "This must be where the crew changes too", she thought to herself.  She knew that one of the bags must belong to Vaughn.  She also knew she shouldn't, but she had the overwhelming temptation to go through it.  Their exchanges at the safe house had been stilted, especially with Kendall interrupting every 30 seconds.  Maybe she could find out some answers here.  After all, it wasn't like he was her boyfriend anymore, as that ring back at the safe house had clearly indicated.

She looked for luggage tags, trying to determine which bag was Vaughn's.  Of course, there were none, seeing as they all worked for the CIA.  She quickly checked each of the bags without disturbing their contents.  Save for a couple of books and magazines, she found nothing of interest except for a prescription bottle.  It was for one Evan Markham - Dilantin with Phenobarbitol, 2 capsules, 2 times daily.  It had a slew of those little warning labels on it.  She was none too happy to think that either the pilot or co-pilot was taking the stuff, until a realization hit her.  These could be for her.  Although she had no idea what Dilantin did, she was well acquainted with the uses of phenobarbitol in extracting information.  If Vaughn had doubted her identity, would he have used it on her?  Could he still?  Not that she had anything to hide, but the discovery disturbed her.

She realized that she had been gone quite some time.  So, she quickly returned the bottle to its location and replaced the bag on the shelves.  Then, she rummaged through the duffel Vaughn had given her, pulling out an acceptable outfit, and quickly changed.  After a quick trip to the bathroom to scrub off the pound of makeup she was wearing, she was ready to return to her seat.

When she finally returned, she plopped down across the aisle from Vaughn only to see that he had fallen asleep.  She took the opportunity to look at him closely.  She hadn't noticed it before, but now she could see that he'd lost some weight, about 10 pounds.  He had always been slender, but was now even more so.  In addition, despite his relaxed state, she could see a few more lines in his brow and around his eyes.  Finally, she noticed he was wearing a gold chain around his neck.  At first, she thought it was part of his disguise, but it was out of place.  It was actually quite tasteful.  She found it odd though, as Vaughn had never been the type to wear one.  She also noticed that it actually had some sort of charm or tag.  She was just leaning in for a closer look when he woke with a start.

"Jesus, Syd!  What are you doing?!"

"Sorry, Vaughn, I didn't mean to startle you, but you fell asleep.  I was just about to wake you when you woke yourself."

She didn't feel badly about the little white lie.  She had originally intended to wake him.  She had a lot of questions that she needed answers to and she had been more than patient.

"Don't worry about it.  I'm sorry I snapped at you.  This is all still a little surreal to me."

"You and me both"

Vaughn nodded.  "Okay then, let me splash a little water on my face and we'll get started…"

When he returned, he had removed the tinted contacts and lost the glasses.  That's when he took a good look at her in the outfit she was now wearing.  She too had removed her contacts and scrubbed all the makeup from her face.  The wig and the hideous, yet incredibly sexy, outfit were gone, replaced by a pair of khakis and a tasteful black twin set.  She now looked like the Sydney he remembered and loved, his Sydney.  He realized that he had been staring too long when she began to squirm under his scrutiny.

"We should get started", he mumbled as he averted his eyes.  "Where would you like me to begin?"

"Let's start from the beginning.  Most importantly, tell me why everyone thinks I'm dead."

Vaughn took a deep breath and nodded.  "Okay, I'll start from that night…"

"After I left your place, I headed straight to the Ops Center.  Kendall, your father, and I had just started to review what happened in Mexico City when Weiss came in and interrupted us.  He said that there had been a local police call to a CIA agent's address because shots had been fired.  Then, he looked to your dad and I and said it was your apartment.  I don't think I've ever run so fast in my life. "

"Your father and I jumped in his car and I immediately started calling the apartment and your cell. I got no answer.  When we finally got to your place, there were police cars everywhere and they were loading Will into an ambulance.  We flashed our ID's and they told us he had been stabbed and was critical.  I asked about women and they said there was only one and she was DOA."

"We ran into the apartment.  God, it was a war zone.  We ran back toward your bedroom because that's where they said the DOA was.  We were both relieved and horrified when we saw that it was Francie instead of you.  There was blood everywhere.  Then, I saw your gun on the floor next to the shattered mirror and knew for sure you were there when whatever happened went down."  He paused before continuing, "There was blood all over that mirror."

"We identified ourselves to the lead investigator and talked to the CSI's, letting them know that there was someone else missing.  Their first impression was that it had been a home invasion by some gang.  Our first thought was that Sloane had abducted you and that Francie and Will simply got in the way.   Your father assumed control of the scene and called a CIA team in."

"While your dad kept talking to the investigators and called for a CIA team to come in, I checked the rest of the apartment and outside to see if they'd left any clues as to how they got you out of there without your neighbors noticing.  That's when I noticed that your truck was gone.  We immediately put out an APB on it and you.  Your father also put alerts out at the airports and notified the Coast Guard."

"When the CIA team arrived, we returned to the Ops Center and everybody started working every contact they had.  I'd never felt so helpless in my life, but we got lucky recovering your Dad so I had hope." 

"I immediately went to visit Sark to try and get information out of him on any locations where Sloane might have gone.  I told him that you had been abducted, Will stabbed, and your other roommate killed so that I was in no mood for any of his games.  It was strange.  He actually freaked out and swore that he knew nothing about it.  He also swore he had no idea where Sloane could be.  Needless to say, I didn't believe him and, before I knew it, the guards were pulling me off of him.  He was in medical services for a week."

"Our first break came the next day when the police contacted us to let us know they had found your car.  It was up at the Pallisades, where you used to go sometimes when you needed to think.  Your father and I got a team up there immediately.  We searched both your car and the area.  The driver's seat was covered with blood, especially the back.  Then, we sent some guys repelling over the cliffs to see what they could find."

Vaughn had been staring off over Sydney's left shoulder while talking, with his voice becoming increasingly choked off by emotion.  He had to pause for a few moments before continuing, "When they came back up, they had found your keys, one of your shoes, and part of the jacket you'd been wearing on a ledge covered with blood."  At this point, he had to stop and held his head in his hands.  When he finally continued his voice was almost a whisper, "We sent another, larger team down, but high tide had been earlier that morning and nothing else was found".

"You and my father thought I'd killed myself?"

"We didn't know what to think!  The evidence was pointing in a million different directions at once.  It wasn't until Will woke up later that day that we realized that Francie was the double.  We ran tests to confirm it.  Then, all the blood tests from your apartment, car, and jacket came back.  Your blood was everywhere, particularly on the mirror, in the car, and on the jacket.  Then, we talked to Dr. Barnett and asked her what she thought.  She told us that we had to consider the possibility that this had been the event to finally break you.  With everything that had happened to you over the previous couple of years, we had to consider that it had all been too much, especially when considering the location.  You once told me that the only person that you ever told you liked to go up to the Pallisades was me…"

Vaughn paused and looked up at Sydney.  She could see the tears in his eyes and the pain in his voice. She couldn't even imagine what they must have been going through at that point.  After a few moments, Vaughn managed to compose himself and continued.

"Even then, your father and I refused to believe it entirely.  We checked every hospital in Southern California, every Jane Doe across the nation, dead or alive, for months.  We realized that the scene at the Pallisades could have been staged, that perhaps you might have mentioned going up there to the double over the months that the she was living with you, and that maybe Sloane had abducted you.  As crazy as it sounds, that became our best hope for your being alive!"

"Unfortunately, the rest of the CIA didn't share our hopes.  Kendall and Devlin posted you as missing and presumed dead.  They and the other brass humored us in terms of allowing us to check out Jane Does and the like, but unless we were trying to track down Sloane or your mother, they refused to give us any additional resources.  They told us to focus our energies on finding the people responsible for driving you off that cliff."

"So when was it that you finally gave up on me?"  Sydney's voice was barely audible and tears were glistening in her eyes.

Vaughn reached over and briefly cupped her cheek with his hand.  She could still see the tears shining in his eyes.  He took a deep breath and stated, "When we realized that Sloane was looking for you as hard as we were…"

"What?"

"After Mexico City, Sloane laid low for several months.  He wasn't sighted anywhere.  It was like he too had disappeared off the face of the planet.  At the same time, your mother had been in contact with us, with your father to be exact.  She was no longer with Sloane.  She claimed that, although she knew that the double was in LA and was manipulating Will, she had no part in what happened to you or Will.  She knew that the double was getting nervous about being exposed, but had thought that she would simply flee, not do anything to harm you.  She felt that Doren must have been acting on new orders from Sloane, but had no idea who could have helped them as they were no longer working with either her or Sark.  She told us that she would work her contacts and send us any intel she could get on Sloane."

"After several months, Sloane resurfaced.  He was building a new organization.  Your mother sent us intel occasionally that helped us track his activities, but we were always a few steps behind.  Finally, about ten months ago, we got a break on a current location for him.  Unfortunately, the team infiltrating the facility was discovered and Sloane used the opportunity to abduct one of the operatives on the mission.  Among other things, he wanted information on you.  He tried to get information from the operative directly, but when he didn't like what he heard, that you were presumed dead, he decided to use him as a bargaining chip with the CIA.  Sloane believed that the CIA had staged your suicide at the Pallisades and wanted confirmation that you were still alive - confirmation that the CIA couldn't provide and wouldn't even if they could.  He'd been unable to find you too."

"What happened to the operative?"  Vaughn could tell by the concern in Sydney's voice that she was already feeling guilty about yet another person being killed because of Sloane's obsession with her.

"After eight weeks, your mother was able to give the CIA a location on him and he was extracted."

"He was alive?"

"Yeah.  He was pretty messed up, but he recovered."

Sydney paused, pondering everything Vaughn had told her.  "So that's when you and my dad decided to accept that I was dead?"

Vaughn nodded solemnly, "our last shred of hope was gone".

"Vaughn, where's my dad?"

"He left the CIA a few months after that.  He decided that the CIA wasn't up to the task of finding and eliminating Arvin Sloane.  He was tired of playing by any of their rules.  It became about revenge.  So, he went off to try and join forces with your mother and hunt down Sloane."

"When was the last time anybody heard from him?"

"Weiss radioed me on the way over that he had been contacted by your dad about three months ago.  He was trying to find me, but Weiss told him I was in witness protection and he had no way of finding or contacting me.  That's the last that they've heard from him."

"You're in witness protection?"

"Yeah.  I left the CIA around the same time that your Dad did.  They decided that, given the players involved, just leaving the CIA wasn't enough."

"Why did you leave??"

"Syd, it's really complicated", Vaughn paused and took a deep breath before continuing, "After I finally acknowledged that you had probably died that night on the cliffs, something inside me broke.  I felt so lost. I didn't know what to do.  I had lost faith in the CIA too.  After all, I had lost both my dad and you and the CIA seemed unable to bring either of the people responsible for your deaths to justice.  Later, when your father decided to leave, I felt even more alienated.  However, I knew that, if Sloane could be gotten, your father would likely be the one to do it.  I actually was considering joining him, but the thought of working with my father's killer, on her terms, disturbed me.  Then, fate intervened."

Sydney was just about to ask what he meant by that when the co-pilot came back and told Vaughn that he was wanted on the radio.  It was Kendall no doubt.  Vaughn gave her an apologetic look and promised to continue as soon as he returned.  He told her she should get something to eat and rest, nodding toward the small bedroom at the rear of the plane.

She was actually starving.  She had eaten some at the safe house, but it was pretty nasty stuff.  San ran efficient operation, but he was a lousy cook.  She rummaged around the galley and found fresh fruit, some croissants, and some cheese.  She also found a pretty good selection of juices, coffee, and teas.  Apparently, the CIA was doing a better job catering flights these days. 

As she sat wolfing down her second croissant, Vaughn returned.  He laughed at her chipmunk cheeks and fell into the chair across from her.

"It was Kendall, he said running his hands through his hair.  "He wanted to know why we missed our contact in Tsim Shat Sui in Kowloon.  I told him about the men and the name that the one guy called you.  He's dispatching a team to the area to see if they can pick anything up on them.  Have you been able to remember anything else about them?

"No, nothing", she replied shaking her head.  "I've been sitting here trying to remember anything.  How can two years have gone by without me remembering?  Where the hell was I?"

"Good question.  I don't know if I should even tell you this, but I also talked with Barnett.  She has a theory on what may have happened to you."

"A couple of days ago", she corrected herself shaking her head slowly, "years ago, I probably would have been upset with you, but now I'm willing to listen to anyone, even her.  What did she have to say?"

"She said that you may have experienced something called a dissociative fugue.  It's when someone experiencing extreme stress adopts a new identity and forgets about their previous identity. The person actually flees their location.  Some have been known to travel thousands of miles.  They are able to perform well enough to survive under their new identities. These "fugues" usually only last for a few days, but some have lasted for months. If it's what's happened to you, however, you may have set a new record.  When theses "fugues" end, the person is usually unable to recall what occurred during their time away."

"It sounds almost a little too perfect.  Why didn't she say anything about it before?"

"I asked her the same question.  She said it never occurred to her before for several reasons.  First, they're incredibly rare.  They mostly happen in wartime.  Second, given the extent of your suspected injuries, it didn't make sense that you could get very far without medical care.  In which case, your father and I would have picked you up in our search of the hospitals.  How you could have gotten across international borders is a complete mystery.  Finally, she admitted that the evidence at the Pallisades and her previous knowledge of all that you had been through had predisposed her to thinking that the pain had become too much for you to bear…"

"So she's saying that I'll never know what happened to me?!"

"No, she's not saying that", Vaughn paused.  "Judy believes that, if this is what happened to you and you undergo hypnosis and regression therapy, there's a reasonable chance that some of those two years can be recovered."

"Judy, huh?  When did the two of you become such close friends?!"

Vaughn looked down, choosing his next words carefully.  "You need to give her a chance to help you, Sydney.  She helped a lot of us after that night – Will, me, Dixon, and even your Dad to some extent.  She also helped me come to terms with things later on when I had problems coping.  She helped me get on with my life."

"And I'm supposed to thank her for that?" said Sydney remembering the wedding band that Vaughn had yet to replace on his finger.

Vaughn shook his head.  "You don't understand.  You have no idea the place I'd gotten myself into.,,  I know that this is all the day before yesterday to you, but let me assure you that those of us you left behind are more than aware of each day that has passed since that night.  We may have accepted your death, but I know that you wouldn't have wanted us to keep on mourning you.  You would have wanted us to be able to get on with our lives.  Judy Barnett helped us do that and, believe me, it was no insignificant feat for any of us."

She knew he was right.  She was still having more than a little trouble accepting what had happened, but she shouldn't minimize what any of them had gone through.  "I'm sorry Vaughn.  I just want to wake up and have this all be some sort of bad dream".

"I know.  Believe me, I know…  But tomorrow, when you wake up and find out that this is still for real, please give her a chance to help you and us find out what happened to you, okay?'"

Sydney nodded her assent.

"Not to get off the subject, Vaughn, but something you said earlier has been bothering me."

"What?"

"You said that both the back of my jacket and the back of the driver's seat of my car were covered with my blood.  The only significant scar that I've been able to find is on my stomach.  I didn't think to look for anything on my back at the safe house.  I tried to feel around and check my back out in that little circle they call a bathroom mirror, but I can't see anything.  Doesn't that prove that my presence at the Pallisades was probably some kind of set up"

Vaughn thought about this for a moment.  She had a point.  There was one way to find out, but he didn't think that that was such a good idea.  "When we get back, the doctors can check you out thoroughly."

"It'll probably be at least another day before that can be done.  Please Vaughn, I need to know.  I know this is awkward, but could you please take a look?"

Vaughn paused and took a deep breath.  "Okay, why don't you turn around and I'll take a look while you hold up the back of your sweater."

Sydney turned around and slowly lifted the back of her sweater.  Vaughn swallowed hard and took a look.  Three hairline scars, four to five inches long each crisscrossed the middle of her back.  Vaughn stared at them silently, replaying in his mind how hard she must have hit the mirror for the glass to slit through both her jacket and sweater before making those cuts.  He thanked God that they hadn't slit into her spine.  

"There are three scars", he whispered.  Then, without thinking, he slowly lifted his left hand and traced the scars.  As he did, he felt the last few doubts he had melt away.  When he was done, he removed his hand and Sydney turned to find tears streaming down his face.  His voice was strained with emotion as he looked down, "Whoever stitched them did a good job.  They're not elevated at all."

Sydney raised her right hand to his chin to raise his gaze and then cupped his cheek in her hand, brushing a tear with her thumb.  "It's OK, Vaughn.  I can't even feel them.  I don't remember ever feeling them."

He simply looked into her eyes, the pain evident in his.  "God Syd, I thought you were gone – we all did.  You have to believe me.  We would never have stopped looking if we thought you were alive…"  His breathing became ragged as he tried to regain his composure, but failed.  Sydney, too, became overwhelmed as the situation hit her once again.  Her hand slid from his face as tears welled in her own eyes and her face crumpled.  They embraced each other fiercely and finally let the emotions wash over them.  She buried her head in his shoulder while he wrapped his arms around her, clutching her to his chest.  They stayed that way silently for several minutes before either spoke. 

"Why don't we sit down", he finally eked out, "unless you want to stand the rest of he way to Midway?"

She choked out a small laugh and they sat down next to each other, no longer across the aisle.  After moving the armrest, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder while she leaned into him.  Neither of them felt like talking again just yet.  Before long, they both dropped off into a dreamless sleep.

Several hours later, Sydney woke first.  Her head was still pillowed on his shoulder.  She took a moment longer to enjoy his comfort before rising.  He stirred when she raised her head, taking a moment to reorient himself and glance at his watch.  "We should be touching down for refueling in about an hour.  Why don't I jump in the shower and change.  That way, they can refill the tank on Midway and you can take one on the next leg.  Unless you'd like to go first?"

"What, you getting tired of looking like a casting call reject from "RENT'?" she quipped.

"Ouch, that hurt!  And here I was thinking of staying with the look," he mocked.

"Wouldn't Kendall love that!"

"Kendall nothing!  Alice would absolutely freak out!"  He caught himself short, realizing what he had just said.

Sydney felt like she had just been kicked in the gut.  It's not as though the thought that it might be Alice hadn't occurred to her.  It was actually one of the few things that made sense.  However, actual confirmation hit hard and she slowly sank into a seat across the aisle.

"Syd, I'm sorry.  That's not the way I'd planned on telling you."

"No, it's Okay.  Well, actually it's not okay, but I don't think that there was ever going to be a good way for you to tell me who it was."  After she paused for a moment, she continued, "How long have you been married?"

"Five months."

"So when did the two of you get back together?"

Vaughn started running his hands through his hair, contemplating his next words.  "It wasn't like that, Syd.  We never really got back together per se.  It just sort of happened."

"What?!  You just called her on the phone one day and said, 'Hey, let's get married!'?"

"No!  Give me a chance, Syd!  It's not everyday that a guy has to explain to his dead girlfriend how he ended up marrying his ex!"

He had a good point.  "Sorry, Vaughn", she said apologetically.  "Please continue.  We might as well get this over with…"

God, this wasn't going well.  He hadn't really thought about how he was going to tell her about Alice.  He was still reeling from the fact that it was actually her.  Perhaps it was best to start from the beginning.  "About six months after you disappeared, my mom died.  Alice heard about it through mutual friends and came to the funeral.  She felt that it was the least she could do after I helped her get through her Dad's illness and death."

"Your mom died?"

"Yeah, she died of an aneurysm.  As things go, it's a pretty good way to die.  The doctor said she never felt a thing.  I actually had dinner with her the night before it happened and you would have never known anything was wrong.  The next day she was out gardening and it just happened."

"I'm so sorry.."

"It's okay, but needless to say, there are whole chunks of the last two years I would rather forget myself.

"Anyway", he continued, "Alice came to the funeral and back to the house afterwards.  We spoke for a while and sort of mended fences.  We hadn't really spoken since I broke up with her after the takedown.  She told me that she was sorry to hear about you too."

"She knew about me?"

"Everybody knew about you.  Enough of your neighbors had heard the commotion and gunfire at the apartment that the CIA couldn't really cover it up.  They decided to publicize the initial instincts that the police had.  All the papers and television stations carried the story of the home invasion where a young woman was killed, her boyfriend seriously wounded, and a beautiful young banker disappeared and was assumed abducted.  The media ate it up.  We figured it could only help in finding you and make it harder for Sloane to move you if he did have you."  He paused before continuing,  "Alice recognized your and Will's pictures on the 10 o'clock news right after it happened."

"Of course", he continued, "when she found out, she knew you as Rita Stevens, so she was more than a little confused.  She never said anything to me because we weren't really speaking. I had been honest with her when we broke up.  Even though we both knew it wasn't working, I told her that I also had feelings for a co-worker.  She immediately guessed it was you.''  Vaughn paused and gave her a small smile. "So, after my Mom's funeral, I had a little explaining to do.  I told her that you were actually an undercover agent for the Bureau of Arms Control and that was why we had lied about your name.  She asked if your job had anything to do with your disappearance and I told her that we suspected yes, but had no proof.   Will was there and he backed up my story.  It was nice to tell someone outside the CIA something approximating the truth for a change."

"After that, we got together occasionally – just as friends.  She was one of the last links that I had to my life outside the CIA.  It was good to pretend to be normal every now and then."  Vaughn took a long pause before continuing, "Later, when it finally hit me that you were gone, it felt as if I'd fallen into some kind of black hole.  I never thought I was going to come out of it.  None of my friends from the CIA were able to help.  They all just served to remind me of what had happened.  Alice was the only one who could get through.  She refused to give up on me."

"A couple of months later, when I knew I couldn't stay in the CIA, I had to choose between joining your father, and consequently your mother, or going into witness relocation.  I told her that I had to leave and why.  She actually offered to go with me if I chose relocation, seeing as she had no family left after her dad had died.  It was incredibly tempting, but I told her that I didn't want that sort of life for her.  I was trained to handle it, whatever choice I made.  She wasn't.   A few days later, we had dinner and I must have had too much to drink or something because we fell back into an old pattern and ended up sleeping together.  A couple of weeks later, she told me she was pregnant.  I couldn't leave her like that.  I did love her.  It may not have been the way it was with us, but I really did, and do, love her.  We were married a week later and went into witness protection."

Sydney sat in stunned silence.  What was there to say?  Not only was he married now, but there was a child on the way.  It felt as if someone had ripped the heart from her chest.  She just sat there in silence not knowing what to do.

"Syd, please say something", Vaughn pleaded while grabbing her hand.  She looked into his eyes, seeing the anguish there.  "Michael, I think that I may need a little time to myself.  I'm not angry, but I'm going to need some space to let this sink in".  He nodded understandingly and went and got his duffel from the bedroom and headed for the shower.  Sydney went back to the bedroom, locked the door, and cried herself to sleep.

It was several hours later when Sydney awoke.  The sun was already setting.  She guessed that she had slept through the refueling on Midway.  Vaughn had probably figured that he should give her a wide berth for a while.  Smart man.  Although she knew it really wasn't his fault and wasn't upset with him per se, she had clearly moved on to the anger phase.  The problem was that she wasn't sure where to focus it.  She wanted to hate Alice for taking him from her, but at the same time, she felt almost grateful to her for having been there for him when no one else could.  That's when she realized where she should focus her rage – Arvin Sloane – the bane of her existence.  He may or may not have had anything to do with her two-year disappearance, but he sure as hell was responsible for what happened that night.  He had sent the double and, for the second time, he had robbed her of the love of her life.

After showering and changing, Sydney decided to face Vaughn.  She still had a lot of questions that needed answers.  When she returned to the cabin, she could see Vaughn was busy in the galley preparing them dinner.  He looked up from his preparations and gave her a tentative "Hey", trying to gauge her demeanor.  She decided to put on a brave face and donned one of her famous false smiles.  "Hey yourself", she replied.

"Are we OK?" he asked tentatively.

"What 'we' there is left", she replied.

He nodded his head as he gave her sad smile.   He looked down at the food that he had just prepared and asked, "Hungry?"

"Not really.  How long was I asleep?"

"About five hours.  We have about six more before we land."

"Vaughn, exactly where are we going?"

"One of the San Juan Islands.  There's an old naval air station where we can land.  Then, we'll take a boat to one of the smaller islands in the wildlife refuge that the agency has a safe house on.  Actually, the whole island belongs to the agency.  It's really quite beautiful."

"You've been there?"

"Yeah, I spent some time there right before I left."

"How long do you think they'll keep me there?"

"Maybe a couple of weeks.  Barnett will be there and probably another doctor from medical services.  They'll check you out, debrief you, and make sure no one's tracked you.  After that, I honestly don't know". 

"Who else will be there?"

Vaughn smiled when she asked this question.  "Well, despite the fact that you'll probably have to endure Kendall's presence on and off, I found out a little while ago that they're sending Will up."

Sydney beamed, "Really?  Is he still with the agency?  How is he?  I still can't believe he survived."

As Vaughn grabbed the food and guided her back to the cabin to a small seating area with a table, he told her that not only was Will still with the agency, but he was a senior analyst.  The attack, her disappearance, and Francie's death and doubling had left their marks, but he was basically the same old Will.  He and Weiss had practically become inseparable.  Dixon was also still with the agency.  He had risen up through the Joint Task Force and had become Kendall's right hand man after her father left.  They spent the next few hours discussing the rest of their friends and how their lives had changed. 

The time passed quickly and pleasantly until Sydney could no longer bear some obvious questions.  "Vaughn, what can you tell me about Sloane?" 

Michael Vaughn visibly tensed and replied, "Not much, Syd.  You'll be better off waiting until they clear you and give you a full briefing."

"Vaughn, please…."

"Sydney, I've been out of the loop for over eight months.  Even if I could tell you, the information would be horribly dated."

"Wait a minute, I thought you said you'd only been in witness protection for five months."

Vaughn paused and looked down before answering, "I took some time off after we finally acknowledged that you'd probably committed suicide.  I was pretty burned out.  I took a leave while I sorted things out.  I never did go back before I left."

Sydney understood, remembering the time she took off after Danny had died and how she had planned on never returning to SD-6 until they forced her hand.  However, she couldn't help pressing the point.  "Okay then, tell me anything you can before that.  You still know more than I do.  You said he disappeared for a couple of months and then started building a new organization.  How?  How big is it?"

Vaughn was clearly becoming agitated.  "Sydney, I've already told you everything I can.  The rest of it has been classified Omega-17.  They'll probably tell you in a couple of days.  Be patient."

Sydney always hated it when he got that tone in his voice – the one that made her feel like a small child being admonished.  She wasn't walking away from this conversation without at least some information about Sloane.  "Fine, then", she bit out, "can you at least tell me what that thing was in Mexico City – the Rambaldi device, Il Dire?"

Sydney hadn't expected his response.   He visibly blanched and a variety of emotions flickered across his face, the most notable of which was panic.  After a few moments, he got his game face back on and deliberately stated, "I told you that it's Omega-17.  If you can't be patient and let this go for now, this conversation is over."

Sydney immediately backed off her line of questioning.  She had never seen him become so unnerved before.  They sat in an awkward silence for a few minutes, both of them staring out the windows.  Then, Sydney broached a subject that had also been gnawing at her – one to which she was dreading the answer.   "Vaughn", she began, "what happens to you when we get to the safe house?  Are you coming back in?"

Vaughn shook his head, "Syd, I can't.  I have other responsibilities now.  I have to keep my family safe.  I got them into this and I have to protect them as best I can."

"So you're just going to drop me off and head back to your new life?"  Now Sydney was the one panicking.

Vaughn closed his eyes and took his head in his hands, kneading his brow.  "Syd, it's not what I want to do, it's what I have to do.  After I get you to the enclave, I'll be debriefed, and then I have to leave.  It's the best way to keep both you and my family safe.  You're just going to have to trust me on this."