Chapter Seven: Slings and Arrows
"Ten bucks says the first thing he brings up is the Nepal op."
Marshall Flinkman flinched and steadied his coffee cup as Eric Weiss elbowed him in the ribs. "Wh-what?" He followed Weiss's gaze, a knowing smile crossing his lips when he noticed Michael Vaughn enter the conference room and come their way.
Vaughn slid into a seat next to his colleagues, a wan smile on his lips. "Good morning," He nodded to each of them. "How are you?"
"Great," Weiss shuffled a few of the documents on the table before him.
"Fine," Marshall offered. "Actually, I'm good, thanks for asking. I mean, I'm kinda upset that it's raining, cuz I was really hoping to be able to test this new solar powered propulsion device that I designed, but it can wait, I guess, until-"
"That's fascinating, Marshall," Weiss turned and gave him a pointed look.
"Oh, right! Right," Marshall nodded vigorously, turning his attention to the coffee cup in his hands.
The brief silence that followed was broken when Vaughn cleared his throat as he opened the notebook he carried and distractedly ran his eyes down a page of handwritten notes.
Casually, he ventured, "Any news about the Nepal mission?"
"Hey!" Marshall shouted, hot coffee splashing his hand as Weiss, again, elbowed him sharply in the ribs.
"Oh, man, Marshall, I'm sorry," Weiss was trying desperately to keep from laughing outright. He grabbed the handkerchief from his back pocket and offered it as penance, dabbing at the coffee splatters on Marshall's shirt.
Marshall, never one to hold a grudge, accepted the assistance with a smile as Vaughn looked on in bewilderment.
"What is up with you guys this morning?" He asked, shaking his head. "Looks like I'm not the only one who didn't get enough sleep."
After refusing Marshall's attempt to give him back his now coffee-soaked handkerchief, Weiss turned to Vaughn with a smirk.
"Didn't sleep much last night, eh?"
Vaughn cast him a weary look. "Any news about the Nepal mission?" He repeated his original question, knowing Weiss did not need him to connect the dots.
"Well, she's back, and in one piece, if that's what you're wanting to know," Weiss busied himself with his paperwork, pulling a pen from his breast pocket.
"And the objective?" Vaughn prompted.
Weiss sighed, meeting Vaughn's eyes as he laid down his pen. "C'mon, man, you and I both know the mission objective is not really what you're concerned about."
"Whoa, hey, look at the time," Marshall jumped in, animatedly checking his watch. "The meeting should've started five minutes ago and we're the only ones here. I'd better go find out what's going on." He was halfway out of his chair when the door opened and Will Tippin stepped in.
"Meeting's been postponed, guys," He said apologetically.
Weiss sighed and slapped his notebook closed, gathering up his paperwork before getting to his feet. Vaughn was close behind, trailing Weiss and Marshall as they headed for the door. Before Vaughn cleared the doorway, Will grabbed his elbow and pulled him to the side.
The look in Will's eyes immediately set Vaughn on edge. "What's up, Will?" He asked, his brow furrowing with concern.
Will glanced around furtively before finally meeting Vaughn's eyes. "I'm not sure if you want to know this or not," He said, fidgeting with the employee badge and lanyard around his neck.
Vaughn was trying hard not to be impatient. "Know what, Will?" He supplied, gesturing for Will to continue.
Will sighed. He wanted to let Vaughn in on what was happening, knowing that if the situation was reversed, he'd want someone to do the same for him. His loyalty to Sydney, however, didn't make it easy.
"Look, man," Will glanced around again, making sure there was no one around to overhear. Before going on, he reached over and pushed the door shut. "I don't know what kind of relationship you and Sydney have right now, if any at all. But if you still care about her, and I suspect you do, I think you'll want to know this."
Moments later, Weiss was just hanging up the phone when the conference room door swung open and Vaughn passed by, his brow knit with worry.
"Hey, Mikey - what's up?" Weiss got to his feet, following Vaughn to his workstation.
Vaughn stopped long enough to drop off his notebook before he turned and nearly jogged as he headed for the long corridor leading out of the main work area of the ops center.
"I have to get to med services," He called over his shoulder, purposely avoiding Weiss's eyes.
"Hey!" Weiss yelled after him. "I think you should know - your wife just called!" The extra emphasis on the word "wife" had no impact - Vaughn didn't stop or turn around and Weiss soon lost sight of him as he darted around a corner.
Weiss dropped his hands to his sides and exhaled sharply as Marshall approached, a fresh cup of coffee in hand.
"Unbelievable," Weiss said bitterly, his dark eyes stormy. "He's got two women who'd basically do anything for him and I can't even get one to give me the time of day."
Marshall nodded in sympathy, blowing gently across the surface of his steamy beverage. "Some guys, you know, they're just lucky like that," He narrowed his eyes in feigned disgust just as his cell phone began to ring. He pulled it from his belt, answering it quickly. After listening for a moment, he asked the caller to hang on and gave Weiss an apologetic smile. "Excuse me, Eric - it's my wife."
The door had been left open just enough that the serious, hushed voices in the hallway floated in and fell upon Sydney's ears, whispering words to her she didn't have the strength to hear. The strength she lacked most, however, was that which was needed to get up and close the door. She chose to remain on the white-sheeted cot in the medical services exam room, curled up in a ball, her fists clutching tissues she'd used to dab at her own tears.
The gynecologist had been and gone, leaving marks upon her psyche although none remained on her skin from the pushing she had done on Sydney's abdomen, the pressure made worse by the full bladder she'd been forced to maintain so the ultrasound pictures could come out clear. The images captured had passed her by; the monitor had been turned from her view and the digital readouts were passed to Dr. Wick without so much as a cursory glance.
Dr. Wick had come in to explain, of course; every step of the testing was laid out for her. Although she understood the words, she didn't grasp the full significance. The name of the drug found in her system, the scar on her belly, the ultrasound, the scheduled MRI; it all made sense mentally, but emotionally it was beyond comprehension.
Sydney heard her father's voice, louder and more insistent than the rest. "What does it mean?" He was asking, each time growing more impatient when the answers weren't enough.
Sydney rolled over and faced the wall, tucking her hands beneath the thin pillow, closing her itchy eyes and squeezing out fresh tears. They dripped noiselessly to the pillowcase, little salt rivers running down her flushed cheeks.
"Sydney, sweetheart," Her father's hand was on her shoulder, his palm warm through the paper-thin medical gown she wore. "Are you all right?"
Sydney sniffed and rolled onto her back, looking up at her father with watery eyes. She dabbed at them, the tissues in her hands beginning to disintegrate. Seeing this, Jack reached into his pocket and retrieved his handkerchief. When he pressed it into Sydney's waiting palm, she closed her fingers around his and held on, silently pleading for comfort.
"Dad, I don't understand," She admitted, her voice lost in the midst of a sob.
Jack's brow furrowed, his lips turning from a hard line into a helpless frown. He turned, and without releasing Sydney's hand, pulled a chair to her bedside so he could sit with her for a while.
"Dr. Wick said he explained-" Jack began, stopping when Sydney gripped his hand harder, tears flooding her cheeks once again.
"No, Dad, I understand the testing, I just don't understand why," She paused to catch her breath, waiting for her sobs to subside. "How does this fit in? What place does this have in anything that happened to me in the last two years?" Sydney pulled her hand back, unfolding her father's handkerchief to wipe her eyes.
"I wish I had answers for you, Sydney," Jack said. He watched her try to compose herself yet again, startled when she suddenly let out an angry, frustrated shout.
"I'm so pissed off that Mom got away!" Sydney slammed a fist down on the thin mattress. The whole bed rattled beneath her. "I know she has answers for me. I know she knows what all of this-" Sydney waved her hands over her stomach. "-is all about."
"Sydney, I wasn't sure I should tell you this," Jack began cautiously. "I don't want you to think I'm abandoning you while all this testing and uncertainty is going on."
"Tell me what?" Sydney pleaded, hopeful for good news. She rolled onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow, reaching out to her father, gripping his hand once more. "Please, Dad."
"I've gotten Kendall's approval to pursue your mother to Moscow," Jack lowered his eyes, gazing at his daughter's hand as it rested in his own. The fingernail polish she had applied as part of her "Natalya" cover had been hastily rubbed off by a med services nurse; streaks of color remained at the edges of her nails, vestiges of ruby red not so easily erased.
"Moscow?" Sydney puzzled. "Why Moscow?"
"Mujari had dealings with Russian intelligence going back more than thirty years. My suspicion is that Derevko wanted to use Mujari's connections to reacquaint herself with those within Moscow who could help her."
"But Mom was Russian intelligence," Sydney still did not fully understand. "Why would she need Mujari?"
"Mujari had a direct inroad to those within the intelligence community who were willing, much like your mother, to compromise ethics to get things done," Jack sighed, his distaste for Derevko's dealings evident in his eyes. "When she went rogue, became known as "The Man", many of those channels were cut off to her. There was too high a price to be paid for assisting Irina Derevko."
"And now?"
"And now things are different," Jack nodded. "It doesn't take long for information to circulate. Irina Derevko went into hiding, her organization was fractured. If Mujari were to go to his contacts with Irina along for the ride, they would be much more willing to help now. They'd want to be a part of Derevko's return, hoping to tag along when she regained control of her 'empire'."
Sydney released her father's hand and rolled onto her back once more, lost in thought. Her eyes narrowed as she turned this information over in her mind, putting pieces into place one by one.
"Mujari's dead," Sydney told her father what he knew too well; the bullet in Mujari's brain had been fired from his gun.
Jack shifted in the chair, the memory fresh in his mind. "It seems unreasonable, but I think your mother will try to use that to her benefit."
"I don't understand how she got away," Sydney shook her head. "I saw her get shot, I witnessed her go down. It wasn't a flesh wound, Dad. She took a solid hit." She met her father's eyes and immediately read his thoughts. "I know, I know," She relented. "It would take a lot more to keep her down."
"Somewhere between you diving into that shaft and me coming upon the scene, she escaped," Jack muttered in consternation. "But it won't happen again, if I can help it."
Father and daughter sat in silence for a few moments, each one thinking dark thoughts. Sydney finally rolled back onto her side, facing her father, tucking her hands beneath her head.
"Make her tell you about Madagascar," Sydney said, reminding her father of the conversation she and Irina had shared in the kitchen storeroom in Nepal. "I have a feeling it has a lot to do with what's going on right now."
Before Jack could answer, the door to the exam room opened fully and Dr. Wick stood in the doorway, a smile on his face that belied the serious set of his eyes.
"Jack, I'm glad you're here," He said, coming to the bedside. "I have some test results that I'm sure you'll both want to hear."
Sydney pushed herself up to a sitting position, rearranging the thin bed sheet over her bare legs. She and Jack watched expectantly as Dr. Wick reviewed the medical chart in his hands before he began to speak.
"The lab analysis came back, and I was right about the drug we found in your blood," Dr. Wick paused, thinking of the best way to explain things. "It's a reproductive supplement called Ovathalcyline. It's designed to stimulate the ovaries to produce multiple eggs, at which point the eggs are harvested for fertilization-"
"Wait, wait, wait," Sydney held up both hands, her mind screaming for clarification. "This is a drug for fertility? Like in-vitro procedures?"
Dr. Wick looked slowly from Sydney's stricken face to that of her father. Jack's eyes were dark, his face a mask for emotion he was struggling to hide.
"Yes," Dr. Wick answered slowly. "The thing about it, though, is that it's no longer used much in this part of the world, due to the side effects, one of which we believe led to the previously unexplained scar on your abdomen."
"Where is it used?" Jack inquired quietly, looking up at the doctor's face. He felt himself unable to meet Sydney's eyes.
"Some of the more underdeveloped regions in and around Asia and Africa," Dr. Wick replied.
"Madagascar," Sydney said, her voice barely audible. It was then that she and Jack locked gazes, both of them thinking the same thing. Sydney finally tore her eyes away as another question nagged at her mind. "What was the side effect?"
"The gynecologist, Dr. Malloy, believes there is some scar tissue on your right ovary," Dr. Wick again consulted the medical chart. "It is most likely the result of surgery performed to remove a benign tumor that would have formed as a result of the drug."
As if in a vacuum, Sydney felt all of the air suddenly sucked from her lungs. She struggled against a wave of panic that threatened to crush her, her mouth agape as fresh tears spilled over her cheeks. Instinctively, Jack reached for her hand and held on tight.
Clearly unsettled, Dr. Wick cleared his throat. "In my opinion, Ms. Bristow, this tumor has no bearing on the workings of your reproductive organs. In fact, the gynecologist saw no reason for an exploratory surgery, which was initially suggested-"
"That's enough," Jack barked suddenly, sensing that his daughter could take no more. "We appreciate your hard work here, Sam, but I think Sydney needs some rest now. If there are further tests needed, she can return tomorrow."
"Of course," Dr. Wick was quick to agree. "I'll just attend to the paperwork and come back for your signature." With a cursory nod, Dr. Wick turned and was gone, closing the door as he exited the room.
"Dad," Sydney could barely speak, the word a sound that left her throat with much effort.
Jack didn't have words to comfort his daughter. He simply leaned in and allowed her to crumple against him, sliding his arms around her back as she buried her face in his shoulder. After a few minutes of tear shed, Sydney sat back, her eyes red and puffy.
Jack cleared his throat. "Sydney, if you don't want me to go to Moscow-"
"Get her," Sydney whispered hoarsely. "Get her and bring her back so I can understand what the hell is going on."
After she had signed the required paperwork, Sydney had been asked, yet again, to wait. Dr. Wick was planning to write her a prescription to help her relax; it was Jack's idea, and even though Sydney didn't want it, she knew better than to argue.
After Jack had gone to make preparations for his trip to Moscow, Sydney redressed and then sat alone in the exam room, solemnly picking the remnants of polish from her fingernails.
Nearly a half hour had passed when Sydney looked up at the clock on the wall and sighed heavily. The longer she waited, the easier it became to unlock the compartment in her head where she had stored the day's startling events. She didn't want to revisit them, especially not now when the memory was so painfully fresh. Sydney wanted a hot shower and a soft bed. It had been an unbelievably long 24 hours.
Glancing down at her lap, Sydney frowned at a dark stain on the right knee of her blue jeans. She winced when she touched it, the rough denim against her damaged skin. She'd forgotten about the cut on her knee; the loose bandage she had applied on the way back from Nepal must have come loose as she'd changed her clothes.
Sydney was busy rolling up the leg of her jeans as the door opened, quiet footsteps on the polished tile floor.
"Dr. Wick, I forgot to ask you to take a look at-" Glancing up, Sydney stopped abruptly as her eyes fell upon the concerned face of Michael Vaughn. "Hi," She said, startled.
"Hi," Vaughn slid his hands in his pockets after gently pushing the door closed. He caught sight of Sydney's injured knee. "What happened?"
"Nothing," Sydney answered with a dismissive shake of her head as she quickly unrolled her pant leg. She pretended to occupy herself with retying her shoelace. Anything to not have to look into his eyes. "If you're here about the mission, I'm sorry to say it was a huge failure."
"I know, I ran into your father in the hallway," Vaughn replied, motioning over his shoulder toward the corridor. "I hear he's going to Moscow," He added conversationally.
"Yeah, he is," Sydney finally raised her eyes, meeting Vaughn's for a moment before the sound of thunder outside gave her a reason to shift her gaze to the frosted glass window. "I'd be going too if it weren't for-" She stopped herself short of revealing too much, things she didn't want Vaughn to know for reasons too deep to even be measured.
Vaughn sensed Sydney's discomfort and was silent for a moment, searching for something to say. His eyes danced around the room, finally coming back to rest on Sydney's face, an image that warmed him someplace within. No matter what happened between them, hers would still and always be the most beautiful face he had ever seen.
"Vaughn."
Vaughn snapped to, suddenly aware that her eyes were meeting his own. "What?"
"Why are you here?" Sydney didn't feel the need to ask the question delicately. She studied Vaughn's face as he searched for a reply and could see him struggling for an answer. "Please," She said. "The truth."
Vaughn sighed, hanging his head for a moment. She was right, of course. She was too intelligent to be fooled into thinking his interest went no further than the botched operation in Nepal.
"Will told me you were down here," Vaughn finally spoke, slowly raising his eyes. "He knew I'd be concerned about you because-" He stopped, watching as Sydney's eyes widened.
"Will told you what?" She demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. She suddenly felt vulnerable and exposed.
Vaughn cleared his throat, uncomfortable. "He told me about the drug they found, and how you were going through all these tests."
Sydney sucked in her bottom lip, biting back tears. She knew Will's intentions had been good, but she couldn't help feeling betrayed. The feeling ebbed and fed into Sydney's growing anger, which she directed wholly at the man standing before her.
Sliding off the gurney, Sydney took a few steps toward Vaughn, stopping just beyond arm's length. She narrowed her eyes, her jaw set.
"And what? You thought you'd come down here and be strong for me? Console me?" Her voice was harsh, venom on her tongue. "Aren't you the one who said that our relationship was now completely professional? Strictly business?"
"Syd-"
"No, Vaughn, you can't just change the rules like this. Make up your mind. Professional or personal - not both, and certainly not just when it's convenient for you!" Sydney blinked hard, a few rogue tears hot on her cheeks.
Vaughn looked away from her, gathering his thoughts, keeping his anger in check.
"I can't just turn it off, Sydney," He said finally, his voice low. "No matter where we are in our lives, I will always be concerned about your well being."
"How noble of you," Sydney spat. She turned her back on him, angry with herself for letting him see her tears. She scrubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand, sniffing loudly.
"Dammit, Syd, do you think this is easy for me?" Vaughn suddenly erupted, his temper flaring. "I thought you were dead. Just walking around with that knowledge devastated me. I had just started to put the pieces back together, to get the strength to make a life for myself after being utterly- "
Vaughn abruptly halted, his eyes meeting Sydney's as she turned to face him, hanging on each word he spoke. It was clear to him in that moment that he could not have conversations like this, could not confess these things to the one woman who was dangerous to touch. Vaughn had a wife and a baby on the way; personal, emotional ties to Sydney Bristow were out of the question.
He had worked too hard to untangle the memories of her from his heart.
"Utterly what?" Sydney prompted, her voice husky, tears balancing on edge of her dark eyes.
Vaughn pressed his lips into a thin line, willing himself silent. "Nothing," He finally answered, shaking his head. With renewed resolve, he drew himself up, taking a deep breath. "You're right. I have to make up my mind, and it's best if we keep things professional."
Sydney drew in a sharp breath, a wound reopening within her. She sniffed, nodding slowly as she averted her eyes. "Right," She agreed, although her heart was nowhere close to being in it.
As soon as she turned away from him again, Vaughn squeezed his eyes shut, pushing back the ocean of regret swelling behind his strong façade. He knew his words had hurt her; he recognized the pained look in her wide eyes. He wished desperately to say something, anything to make it better, but he knew there were no words. He had made his decision, and it had to stand. It was for their own good.
"Sydney, regarding your mother, if there's any information I can help you find, just let me know. I still have most of those files I created when I was independently investigating her, and-"
"Thanks," Sydney turned, smiling weakly as she slid her hands into the pockets of her jeans. "That might be-"
Sydney was interrupted as Vaughn's cell phone chirped loudly. He smiled apologetically and retrieved it from the inside pocket of his dark blue suit coat.
"Hello? Oh, Alice, hi," Vaughn cast a furtive glance in Sydney's direction and turned his back to her, lowering his voice. "I can't talk now. No, it's okay. No, really, Alice - it's fine. Can I call you back? I'm kinda in the middle of something. No, nothing hugely important, just a work thing. Yes, I promise. Me, too. Yes. Okay. Bye."
Returning the phone to his pocket, Vaughn sighed and turned back around, stopping short when he found himself face to face with an empty room.
******
A/N: Whew - two chapters in one week! Must be some kind of miracle! Thanks to all for the warm reviews. I appreciate it more than you know - and probably more than is healthy. Keep 'em coming. Please.
"Ten bucks says the first thing he brings up is the Nepal op."
Marshall Flinkman flinched and steadied his coffee cup as Eric Weiss elbowed him in the ribs. "Wh-what?" He followed Weiss's gaze, a knowing smile crossing his lips when he noticed Michael Vaughn enter the conference room and come their way.
Vaughn slid into a seat next to his colleagues, a wan smile on his lips. "Good morning," He nodded to each of them. "How are you?"
"Great," Weiss shuffled a few of the documents on the table before him.
"Fine," Marshall offered. "Actually, I'm good, thanks for asking. I mean, I'm kinda upset that it's raining, cuz I was really hoping to be able to test this new solar powered propulsion device that I designed, but it can wait, I guess, until-"
"That's fascinating, Marshall," Weiss turned and gave him a pointed look.
"Oh, right! Right," Marshall nodded vigorously, turning his attention to the coffee cup in his hands.
The brief silence that followed was broken when Vaughn cleared his throat as he opened the notebook he carried and distractedly ran his eyes down a page of handwritten notes.
Casually, he ventured, "Any news about the Nepal mission?"
"Hey!" Marshall shouted, hot coffee splashing his hand as Weiss, again, elbowed him sharply in the ribs.
"Oh, man, Marshall, I'm sorry," Weiss was trying desperately to keep from laughing outright. He grabbed the handkerchief from his back pocket and offered it as penance, dabbing at the coffee splatters on Marshall's shirt.
Marshall, never one to hold a grudge, accepted the assistance with a smile as Vaughn looked on in bewilderment.
"What is up with you guys this morning?" He asked, shaking his head. "Looks like I'm not the only one who didn't get enough sleep."
After refusing Marshall's attempt to give him back his now coffee-soaked handkerchief, Weiss turned to Vaughn with a smirk.
"Didn't sleep much last night, eh?"
Vaughn cast him a weary look. "Any news about the Nepal mission?" He repeated his original question, knowing Weiss did not need him to connect the dots.
"Well, she's back, and in one piece, if that's what you're wanting to know," Weiss busied himself with his paperwork, pulling a pen from his breast pocket.
"And the objective?" Vaughn prompted.
Weiss sighed, meeting Vaughn's eyes as he laid down his pen. "C'mon, man, you and I both know the mission objective is not really what you're concerned about."
"Whoa, hey, look at the time," Marshall jumped in, animatedly checking his watch. "The meeting should've started five minutes ago and we're the only ones here. I'd better go find out what's going on." He was halfway out of his chair when the door opened and Will Tippin stepped in.
"Meeting's been postponed, guys," He said apologetically.
Weiss sighed and slapped his notebook closed, gathering up his paperwork before getting to his feet. Vaughn was close behind, trailing Weiss and Marshall as they headed for the door. Before Vaughn cleared the doorway, Will grabbed his elbow and pulled him to the side.
The look in Will's eyes immediately set Vaughn on edge. "What's up, Will?" He asked, his brow furrowing with concern.
Will glanced around furtively before finally meeting Vaughn's eyes. "I'm not sure if you want to know this or not," He said, fidgeting with the employee badge and lanyard around his neck.
Vaughn was trying hard not to be impatient. "Know what, Will?" He supplied, gesturing for Will to continue.
Will sighed. He wanted to let Vaughn in on what was happening, knowing that if the situation was reversed, he'd want someone to do the same for him. His loyalty to Sydney, however, didn't make it easy.
"Look, man," Will glanced around again, making sure there was no one around to overhear. Before going on, he reached over and pushed the door shut. "I don't know what kind of relationship you and Sydney have right now, if any at all. But if you still care about her, and I suspect you do, I think you'll want to know this."
Moments later, Weiss was just hanging up the phone when the conference room door swung open and Vaughn passed by, his brow knit with worry.
"Hey, Mikey - what's up?" Weiss got to his feet, following Vaughn to his workstation.
Vaughn stopped long enough to drop off his notebook before he turned and nearly jogged as he headed for the long corridor leading out of the main work area of the ops center.
"I have to get to med services," He called over his shoulder, purposely avoiding Weiss's eyes.
"Hey!" Weiss yelled after him. "I think you should know - your wife just called!" The extra emphasis on the word "wife" had no impact - Vaughn didn't stop or turn around and Weiss soon lost sight of him as he darted around a corner.
Weiss dropped his hands to his sides and exhaled sharply as Marshall approached, a fresh cup of coffee in hand.
"Unbelievable," Weiss said bitterly, his dark eyes stormy. "He's got two women who'd basically do anything for him and I can't even get one to give me the time of day."
Marshall nodded in sympathy, blowing gently across the surface of his steamy beverage. "Some guys, you know, they're just lucky like that," He narrowed his eyes in feigned disgust just as his cell phone began to ring. He pulled it from his belt, answering it quickly. After listening for a moment, he asked the caller to hang on and gave Weiss an apologetic smile. "Excuse me, Eric - it's my wife."
The door had been left open just enough that the serious, hushed voices in the hallway floated in and fell upon Sydney's ears, whispering words to her she didn't have the strength to hear. The strength she lacked most, however, was that which was needed to get up and close the door. She chose to remain on the white-sheeted cot in the medical services exam room, curled up in a ball, her fists clutching tissues she'd used to dab at her own tears.
The gynecologist had been and gone, leaving marks upon her psyche although none remained on her skin from the pushing she had done on Sydney's abdomen, the pressure made worse by the full bladder she'd been forced to maintain so the ultrasound pictures could come out clear. The images captured had passed her by; the monitor had been turned from her view and the digital readouts were passed to Dr. Wick without so much as a cursory glance.
Dr. Wick had come in to explain, of course; every step of the testing was laid out for her. Although she understood the words, she didn't grasp the full significance. The name of the drug found in her system, the scar on her belly, the ultrasound, the scheduled MRI; it all made sense mentally, but emotionally it was beyond comprehension.
Sydney heard her father's voice, louder and more insistent than the rest. "What does it mean?" He was asking, each time growing more impatient when the answers weren't enough.
Sydney rolled over and faced the wall, tucking her hands beneath the thin pillow, closing her itchy eyes and squeezing out fresh tears. They dripped noiselessly to the pillowcase, little salt rivers running down her flushed cheeks.
"Sydney, sweetheart," Her father's hand was on her shoulder, his palm warm through the paper-thin medical gown she wore. "Are you all right?"
Sydney sniffed and rolled onto her back, looking up at her father with watery eyes. She dabbed at them, the tissues in her hands beginning to disintegrate. Seeing this, Jack reached into his pocket and retrieved his handkerchief. When he pressed it into Sydney's waiting palm, she closed her fingers around his and held on, silently pleading for comfort.
"Dad, I don't understand," She admitted, her voice lost in the midst of a sob.
Jack's brow furrowed, his lips turning from a hard line into a helpless frown. He turned, and without releasing Sydney's hand, pulled a chair to her bedside so he could sit with her for a while.
"Dr. Wick said he explained-" Jack began, stopping when Sydney gripped his hand harder, tears flooding her cheeks once again.
"No, Dad, I understand the testing, I just don't understand why," She paused to catch her breath, waiting for her sobs to subside. "How does this fit in? What place does this have in anything that happened to me in the last two years?" Sydney pulled her hand back, unfolding her father's handkerchief to wipe her eyes.
"I wish I had answers for you, Sydney," Jack said. He watched her try to compose herself yet again, startled when she suddenly let out an angry, frustrated shout.
"I'm so pissed off that Mom got away!" Sydney slammed a fist down on the thin mattress. The whole bed rattled beneath her. "I know she has answers for me. I know she knows what all of this-" Sydney waved her hands over her stomach. "-is all about."
"Sydney, I wasn't sure I should tell you this," Jack began cautiously. "I don't want you to think I'm abandoning you while all this testing and uncertainty is going on."
"Tell me what?" Sydney pleaded, hopeful for good news. She rolled onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow, reaching out to her father, gripping his hand once more. "Please, Dad."
"I've gotten Kendall's approval to pursue your mother to Moscow," Jack lowered his eyes, gazing at his daughter's hand as it rested in his own. The fingernail polish she had applied as part of her "Natalya" cover had been hastily rubbed off by a med services nurse; streaks of color remained at the edges of her nails, vestiges of ruby red not so easily erased.
"Moscow?" Sydney puzzled. "Why Moscow?"
"Mujari had dealings with Russian intelligence going back more than thirty years. My suspicion is that Derevko wanted to use Mujari's connections to reacquaint herself with those within Moscow who could help her."
"But Mom was Russian intelligence," Sydney still did not fully understand. "Why would she need Mujari?"
"Mujari had a direct inroad to those within the intelligence community who were willing, much like your mother, to compromise ethics to get things done," Jack sighed, his distaste for Derevko's dealings evident in his eyes. "When she went rogue, became known as "The Man", many of those channels were cut off to her. There was too high a price to be paid for assisting Irina Derevko."
"And now?"
"And now things are different," Jack nodded. "It doesn't take long for information to circulate. Irina Derevko went into hiding, her organization was fractured. If Mujari were to go to his contacts with Irina along for the ride, they would be much more willing to help now. They'd want to be a part of Derevko's return, hoping to tag along when she regained control of her 'empire'."
Sydney released her father's hand and rolled onto her back once more, lost in thought. Her eyes narrowed as she turned this information over in her mind, putting pieces into place one by one.
"Mujari's dead," Sydney told her father what he knew too well; the bullet in Mujari's brain had been fired from his gun.
Jack shifted in the chair, the memory fresh in his mind. "It seems unreasonable, but I think your mother will try to use that to her benefit."
"I don't understand how she got away," Sydney shook her head. "I saw her get shot, I witnessed her go down. It wasn't a flesh wound, Dad. She took a solid hit." She met her father's eyes and immediately read his thoughts. "I know, I know," She relented. "It would take a lot more to keep her down."
"Somewhere between you diving into that shaft and me coming upon the scene, she escaped," Jack muttered in consternation. "But it won't happen again, if I can help it."
Father and daughter sat in silence for a few moments, each one thinking dark thoughts. Sydney finally rolled back onto her side, facing her father, tucking her hands beneath her head.
"Make her tell you about Madagascar," Sydney said, reminding her father of the conversation she and Irina had shared in the kitchen storeroom in Nepal. "I have a feeling it has a lot to do with what's going on right now."
Before Jack could answer, the door to the exam room opened fully and Dr. Wick stood in the doorway, a smile on his face that belied the serious set of his eyes.
"Jack, I'm glad you're here," He said, coming to the bedside. "I have some test results that I'm sure you'll both want to hear."
Sydney pushed herself up to a sitting position, rearranging the thin bed sheet over her bare legs. She and Jack watched expectantly as Dr. Wick reviewed the medical chart in his hands before he began to speak.
"The lab analysis came back, and I was right about the drug we found in your blood," Dr. Wick paused, thinking of the best way to explain things. "It's a reproductive supplement called Ovathalcyline. It's designed to stimulate the ovaries to produce multiple eggs, at which point the eggs are harvested for fertilization-"
"Wait, wait, wait," Sydney held up both hands, her mind screaming for clarification. "This is a drug for fertility? Like in-vitro procedures?"
Dr. Wick looked slowly from Sydney's stricken face to that of her father. Jack's eyes were dark, his face a mask for emotion he was struggling to hide.
"Yes," Dr. Wick answered slowly. "The thing about it, though, is that it's no longer used much in this part of the world, due to the side effects, one of which we believe led to the previously unexplained scar on your abdomen."
"Where is it used?" Jack inquired quietly, looking up at the doctor's face. He felt himself unable to meet Sydney's eyes.
"Some of the more underdeveloped regions in and around Asia and Africa," Dr. Wick replied.
"Madagascar," Sydney said, her voice barely audible. It was then that she and Jack locked gazes, both of them thinking the same thing. Sydney finally tore her eyes away as another question nagged at her mind. "What was the side effect?"
"The gynecologist, Dr. Malloy, believes there is some scar tissue on your right ovary," Dr. Wick again consulted the medical chart. "It is most likely the result of surgery performed to remove a benign tumor that would have formed as a result of the drug."
As if in a vacuum, Sydney felt all of the air suddenly sucked from her lungs. She struggled against a wave of panic that threatened to crush her, her mouth agape as fresh tears spilled over her cheeks. Instinctively, Jack reached for her hand and held on tight.
Clearly unsettled, Dr. Wick cleared his throat. "In my opinion, Ms. Bristow, this tumor has no bearing on the workings of your reproductive organs. In fact, the gynecologist saw no reason for an exploratory surgery, which was initially suggested-"
"That's enough," Jack barked suddenly, sensing that his daughter could take no more. "We appreciate your hard work here, Sam, but I think Sydney needs some rest now. If there are further tests needed, she can return tomorrow."
"Of course," Dr. Wick was quick to agree. "I'll just attend to the paperwork and come back for your signature." With a cursory nod, Dr. Wick turned and was gone, closing the door as he exited the room.
"Dad," Sydney could barely speak, the word a sound that left her throat with much effort.
Jack didn't have words to comfort his daughter. He simply leaned in and allowed her to crumple against him, sliding his arms around her back as she buried her face in his shoulder. After a few minutes of tear shed, Sydney sat back, her eyes red and puffy.
Jack cleared his throat. "Sydney, if you don't want me to go to Moscow-"
"Get her," Sydney whispered hoarsely. "Get her and bring her back so I can understand what the hell is going on."
After she had signed the required paperwork, Sydney had been asked, yet again, to wait. Dr. Wick was planning to write her a prescription to help her relax; it was Jack's idea, and even though Sydney didn't want it, she knew better than to argue.
After Jack had gone to make preparations for his trip to Moscow, Sydney redressed and then sat alone in the exam room, solemnly picking the remnants of polish from her fingernails.
Nearly a half hour had passed when Sydney looked up at the clock on the wall and sighed heavily. The longer she waited, the easier it became to unlock the compartment in her head where she had stored the day's startling events. She didn't want to revisit them, especially not now when the memory was so painfully fresh. Sydney wanted a hot shower and a soft bed. It had been an unbelievably long 24 hours.
Glancing down at her lap, Sydney frowned at a dark stain on the right knee of her blue jeans. She winced when she touched it, the rough denim against her damaged skin. She'd forgotten about the cut on her knee; the loose bandage she had applied on the way back from Nepal must have come loose as she'd changed her clothes.
Sydney was busy rolling up the leg of her jeans as the door opened, quiet footsteps on the polished tile floor.
"Dr. Wick, I forgot to ask you to take a look at-" Glancing up, Sydney stopped abruptly as her eyes fell upon the concerned face of Michael Vaughn. "Hi," She said, startled.
"Hi," Vaughn slid his hands in his pockets after gently pushing the door closed. He caught sight of Sydney's injured knee. "What happened?"
"Nothing," Sydney answered with a dismissive shake of her head as she quickly unrolled her pant leg. She pretended to occupy herself with retying her shoelace. Anything to not have to look into his eyes. "If you're here about the mission, I'm sorry to say it was a huge failure."
"I know, I ran into your father in the hallway," Vaughn replied, motioning over his shoulder toward the corridor. "I hear he's going to Moscow," He added conversationally.
"Yeah, he is," Sydney finally raised her eyes, meeting Vaughn's for a moment before the sound of thunder outside gave her a reason to shift her gaze to the frosted glass window. "I'd be going too if it weren't for-" She stopped herself short of revealing too much, things she didn't want Vaughn to know for reasons too deep to even be measured.
Vaughn sensed Sydney's discomfort and was silent for a moment, searching for something to say. His eyes danced around the room, finally coming back to rest on Sydney's face, an image that warmed him someplace within. No matter what happened between them, hers would still and always be the most beautiful face he had ever seen.
"Vaughn."
Vaughn snapped to, suddenly aware that her eyes were meeting his own. "What?"
"Why are you here?" Sydney didn't feel the need to ask the question delicately. She studied Vaughn's face as he searched for a reply and could see him struggling for an answer. "Please," She said. "The truth."
Vaughn sighed, hanging his head for a moment. She was right, of course. She was too intelligent to be fooled into thinking his interest went no further than the botched operation in Nepal.
"Will told me you were down here," Vaughn finally spoke, slowly raising his eyes. "He knew I'd be concerned about you because-" He stopped, watching as Sydney's eyes widened.
"Will told you what?" She demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. She suddenly felt vulnerable and exposed.
Vaughn cleared his throat, uncomfortable. "He told me about the drug they found, and how you were going through all these tests."
Sydney sucked in her bottom lip, biting back tears. She knew Will's intentions had been good, but she couldn't help feeling betrayed. The feeling ebbed and fed into Sydney's growing anger, which she directed wholly at the man standing before her.
Sliding off the gurney, Sydney took a few steps toward Vaughn, stopping just beyond arm's length. She narrowed her eyes, her jaw set.
"And what? You thought you'd come down here and be strong for me? Console me?" Her voice was harsh, venom on her tongue. "Aren't you the one who said that our relationship was now completely professional? Strictly business?"
"Syd-"
"No, Vaughn, you can't just change the rules like this. Make up your mind. Professional or personal - not both, and certainly not just when it's convenient for you!" Sydney blinked hard, a few rogue tears hot on her cheeks.
Vaughn looked away from her, gathering his thoughts, keeping his anger in check.
"I can't just turn it off, Sydney," He said finally, his voice low. "No matter where we are in our lives, I will always be concerned about your well being."
"How noble of you," Sydney spat. She turned her back on him, angry with herself for letting him see her tears. She scrubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand, sniffing loudly.
"Dammit, Syd, do you think this is easy for me?" Vaughn suddenly erupted, his temper flaring. "I thought you were dead. Just walking around with that knowledge devastated me. I had just started to put the pieces back together, to get the strength to make a life for myself after being utterly- "
Vaughn abruptly halted, his eyes meeting Sydney's as she turned to face him, hanging on each word he spoke. It was clear to him in that moment that he could not have conversations like this, could not confess these things to the one woman who was dangerous to touch. Vaughn had a wife and a baby on the way; personal, emotional ties to Sydney Bristow were out of the question.
He had worked too hard to untangle the memories of her from his heart.
"Utterly what?" Sydney prompted, her voice husky, tears balancing on edge of her dark eyes.
Vaughn pressed his lips into a thin line, willing himself silent. "Nothing," He finally answered, shaking his head. With renewed resolve, he drew himself up, taking a deep breath. "You're right. I have to make up my mind, and it's best if we keep things professional."
Sydney drew in a sharp breath, a wound reopening within her. She sniffed, nodding slowly as she averted her eyes. "Right," She agreed, although her heart was nowhere close to being in it.
As soon as she turned away from him again, Vaughn squeezed his eyes shut, pushing back the ocean of regret swelling behind his strong façade. He knew his words had hurt her; he recognized the pained look in her wide eyes. He wished desperately to say something, anything to make it better, but he knew there were no words. He had made his decision, and it had to stand. It was for their own good.
"Sydney, regarding your mother, if there's any information I can help you find, just let me know. I still have most of those files I created when I was independently investigating her, and-"
"Thanks," Sydney turned, smiling weakly as she slid her hands into the pockets of her jeans. "That might be-"
Sydney was interrupted as Vaughn's cell phone chirped loudly. He smiled apologetically and retrieved it from the inside pocket of his dark blue suit coat.
"Hello? Oh, Alice, hi," Vaughn cast a furtive glance in Sydney's direction and turned his back to her, lowering his voice. "I can't talk now. No, it's okay. No, really, Alice - it's fine. Can I call you back? I'm kinda in the middle of something. No, nothing hugely important, just a work thing. Yes, I promise. Me, too. Yes. Okay. Bye."
Returning the phone to his pocket, Vaughn sighed and turned back around, stopping short when he found himself face to face with an empty room.
******
A/N: Whew - two chapters in one week! Must be some kind of miracle! Thanks to all for the warm reviews. I appreciate it more than you know - and probably more than is healthy. Keep 'em coming. Please.
