Title: Trying Normal Chapter 3
Author: UConn Fan (Michele)
E-Mail: LoveUConnBasketball@yahoo.com
Story Summary: "Can I be normal?"
He shrugged, "what does normal mean anyway? You can be happy though, and that's about as close to normal as anyone can hope for." (Sequel to "Coming to Terms")
This Chapter: A wedding date is set, the engaged couple bond & Ben & Jack have a chat.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own ANY of these characters; they belong to Bad Robot, ABC, and the brilliant J.J. Abrams. Nor do I own anything recognizable. Don't sue.
Authors Note: IMHO this is a short chapter, and I apologize for that, but I thought I'd made you guys wait long enough. I'll TRY to post another by Christmas, BUT I'm sick & busy so I make no promises. Also I'm working on the first chapter of my next big story - don't expect that until this one's done. Keep in mind that I never INTENDED on writing a sequel to "Coming to Terms" - I really never even thought I'd finish that. Originally the ending was going to be this page and a half long summary that tied up everything by being a retrospect of when Sydney's fifty. I was going to put that as the last chapter of CtT, but if I did that now you'd probably all maul me. So work with me here.
Also, if anyone knows anything about Armenia or was in the Peace Corp. or knows anything about the California real estate system, please feel free to e-mail me because I might need some help sometime soon.
"Syd, c'mon, we're going to be late!" Michael called over his shoulder in a hushed voice. He watched as Sydney finished adjusting the soft baseball cap on Jackie's head. Content that their daughter was warm, she shut the passenger's door and walked over to him, their daughter nestled next to her in the snugli.
"How are we going to be late? Did you make an appointment with the sun gods?" she teased as their fingers intertwined.
"You're not funny," he playfully insisted, handing her a decaf _mocha from Starbucks - her favorite.
"I'm funnier than you," she smirked and took a sip of the coffee. "This place is even more beautiful before the sun rises," she noticed as they walked along the familiar pier. This time there was no emergency, no fear of being watched or keeping their covers intact; instead, it was just the tiny family of three, enjoying the Los Angeles sunrise from the pier. "Do you have any idea," she paused to yawn, "how early this is?"
"This was your idea," he shot back, his free hand carrying his own Styrofoam Starbucks. "You're the one who kept us out late playing hockey."
"You're just mad because I won two games and you only took one," she teased.
"I'm sorry," he said seriously.
"For what?"
"This is what we should have been doing…This would have been a good six month anniversary date… But we're already engaged and I've never even taken you on a proper date."
"So?" She smiled and shrugged. "You don't consider breaking into the Vatican together or when you broke into SD-6 to save us a romantic escapade?"
Mike laughed and shook his head. "It's not what you deserved Syd."
"We didn't date. We courted."
"Courted?" His eyebrow rose at the term, his eyes scanning the pre-dawn sky.
"You were there for me and took care of me in the sweetest ways. You romanced me in such a sweet way…" she trailed off thoughtfully. When he saw the blush slowly rise to her cheeks, his face broke out in a wide smile. No matter how he viewed their relationship, it was obvious she had no disappointments.
"I'm not done yet," he reminded her.
After she smiled and nodded, she looked down at her feet as they walked along the wooden pier. "It's still weird for me, not getting up and going to Credit Dauphine… I have so much clothes in my closet that I'm certain I'll never wear again. I'm thinking about giving them to Amy. Or maybe Maya and Jackie could use them for dress up one day," she suggested lightly. Mike smirked with a nod. "I've been thinking about it though… About that life… I don't regret it. Sure, there are parts of it that I regret," she added and met his eyes. "If we had waited… Or if I had never found out the truth about SD-6… I wouldn't have either of you," she explained as her eyes briefly cast down to their daughter. "What do you think about June 19th?"
"Hmm?" he asked, yawning and confused.
"It's probably too soon, I'm not sure… I just thought June 19th would be a nice day to get married…"
Looking at his watch, he realized that the date was in exactly a month. Meeting her eyes, he was unable to quench the excitement he saw there. It wouldn't be easy, but if she wanted it, he knew the strings to pull to make it happen. "It's probably too soon… I don't have a dress or a location and we need a priest and a license - " she started to ramble when he didn't immediately respond.
"Syd, I've already put in the papers to make you my emergency contact. I've also started the necessary papers to have Jackie added as my dependent and to have myself added to her birth certificate and change her last name. It's not too soon for me. I can get us a location, if you think you can find a dress that you want and take care of what you need to take care of."
"You don't think I'm being ridiculous?"
"No," he smiled and shook his head. "Eric's sister is a photographer, I could probably get him to ask her to help us. Plus, I think I know a great spot for a wedding that I'm positive is available."
"Where?"
"It's a surprise," he smiled. "You'll find out soon enough."
Sydney nodded, trusting his promise. "I want the reception at Francie's restaurant."
"If it's what you want," he agreed with a shrug. When his sister had been frantically planning her wedding to Patrick, he had watched his brother-in-law sit back and allow his sister to plan the entire thing. In the end both Charlotte and Patrick were pleased with the result.
"This is the first place where I realized we were in trouble," she confessed as they stopped walking, leaning up against the side rails. Standing closely to him, she let her body rest safely against his, his arm coming around her shoulder as the sun started to rise.
"When you told me you were pregnant?"
"No," she laughed and shook her head. "A long time before that. The night that my father stood me up for dinner… God, I just called and you were there. You were on a date or something too, weren't you?" she remembered in horror. He had never mentioned what he had been doing that night, but when he had met her at the pier it was obvious he hadn't just been at home watching a hockey game.
"Yeah. With Alice. She wasn't too happy with me after that," he remembered.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be," he shook his head. "I'm not. I'm not what she wanted. We tried to work through everything . . . Last I heard she was engaged to some lawyer from Palisades."
"I should call Dixon today to see if we're still okay for Saturday."
"Do you think you will be?"
"I hope so," she shrugged. "I hope that if Diane did something drastic like kick him out he'd come to me. He's my friend Mike, if he needed something I'd give it to him."
"I know," he nodded. One of the things he admired and loved best about her was the way she treated those she cared about.
"Is your mother going to like me?" she asked softly, drawing him out of his contemplations of the many reasons why he loved her.
"I told her I was bringing a woman to dinner on Sunday. That's all I told her," he confessed as her face fell slightly. "I want to tell her everything Syd, and I will… I just couldn't do it over the phone."
"I know you will," she smiled up at him, all of her faith in him evident on her face. "Are you going to tell her about my mother?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "She's had to cope with it for nearly twenty five years… She still visits him every week, still talks about him like he's only been gone a week… She's my mother Syd, she deserves to know."
"You're right," she agreed. "Your mother deserves to know."
"But?" he gently urged, squeezing her hand and reading her obviously troubled _expression.
"What if she holds it against me?"
"Syd," he breathed out as his arm tightened. "You're not your mother, nor are you responsible for her sins. Anyone who knows anything about you knows that you would never betray your government."
"Your mother doesn't know me," she feebly reminded him.
"She will soon enough," he encouraged with a smile.
"At least we know my father likes you."
"Yeah," he smiled, hoping his _expression didn't betray his thoughts. One detail he vividly remembered of his first meeting with Jack Bristow was seeing the wrong end of a gun barrel. Luckily, the two men had come a long way in the years that had passed, having developed a mutual respect and understanding. Truth be told, he couldn't guarantee that Jackie's first serious boyfriend wouldn't face the same fate, although he prayed the circumstances would be far removed from the life they had lived.
"What is it?" She easily read his gaze, having grown far too adept to seeing his concerned _expression over the years.
"It's nothing… I was just remembering the first time I met your father."
"Let me guess, Jack Bristow lived up to his reputation."
"All that and more," he agreed.
"Sorry you had to go through that."
"He's your father, he didn't know who I was or what I wanted, I would have been disappointed if his reaction was anything less." In truth, Jack hadn't been entirely wrong that first day they met. Even early on, a tiny part of him enjoyed the thought that part of what got her up in the morning was meeting with him. "I might not have always agreed with your father's tactics Syd, but he is brilliant at what he does."
"Yeah," she nodded. "When I told him we were getting married, he didn't seem at all surprised."
"Were you trying to surprise him?"
"I don't know," she shrugged, briefly lost in thought. "I don't know what I was expecting… He said he had expected that we'd get married, especially since Jackie, but I still thought he'd have more to say. At least he agreed to walk me down the aisle. Then he asked if you made me happy."
"And you said?" he teased as she laughed.
"I said yes!"
"We should probably expect the opposite from everyone else we tell," he advised.
"By that you mean everyone else will gladly let us know what a mistake they think we're making?"
"Oh yeah," he playfully agreed. Once their laughter died down, they locked hands and continued to walk the pier.
Later that morning Jack walked down the familiar halls of the CIA headquarters. Walking into Devlin's office, he bypassed the secretary with a slight nod and knocked on Ben's door. "You wanted to see me?" He slipped into the room and looked at his old friend.
"Yes Jack. Please come in and sit down."
"Ben, is something wrong?"
"This appeared on my desk today," he said as he handed Jack a folder. Flipping through it he saw that it was paperwork, all filled out in Agent Vaughn's sloppy hand, to make Sydney Bristow his emergency contact. Underneath that were the necessary forms to start the process of adding himself to Jacqueline's birth certificate and changing her surname to Vaughn, all while making her his dependent.
"Yes?" Jack's eyebrows rose slightly as he put the folder back on Ben's desk.
"This is not good Jack."
"Why not?"
"Agent Vaughn was your daughter's handler throughout the majority of her duration as a double agent for the CIA. These documents would indicate that the office suspicions are correct and that Agent Vaughn breached the contract of agent and handler relation. This could result in serious implications for him."
"My daughter is no longer an employee of the CIA. All these documents indicate is that Agent Vaughn has offered to be my granddaughter's father and is close to my daughter. It indicates nothing more," he said sternly. "I suppose to some that it could *imply* that they broke the agent-handler contract, but if they did, neither of them let it alter their job performance."
"What do you suggest I do with Agent Vaughn?"
"Nothing," Jack said blankly. "There's no need for disciplinary action when there is no evidence that the agent-handler contract was breached. These documents are simply evidence that they are now good friends. Confidants supposedly. We both can agree that it's not unusual for an agent and handler to remain in contact even after one or both of them retire."
"Naming a former asset as an emergency contact is a little more than remaining in casual contact through Christmas and birthday cards."
"You asked me for my suggestion. My suggestion is to do nothing. I firmly believe that Agent Vaughn, regardless of any appropriate or inappropriate attachment he has to my daughter, is an asset to this agency. His work has been consistently exceptional, and without him as her case handler, I question whether Sydney would have been able to achieve as much as she did."
Jack knew Ben was technically above him, although barely a superior. His words were true however; he saw no reason to punish Agent Vaughn, particularly when his daughter was no longer an agent at the CIA. Plus, he firmly believed that the improper - and he admitted to himself that it *was* improper - attachment that his daughter and future son-in-law had shared as employees of the CIA had only been beneficial to all involved.
"What do you know?" Ben questioned.
"Pardon me?"
"What do you know Jack? You were never Agent Vaughn's biggest supporter, and here you are telling me it's basically pointless to punish him for breaking a *very* crucial rule regarding handler-agent behavior."
"Agent Vaughn has shown consistently good work and was effective as my daughter's handler."
"What else is there?" Ben pressed. After so many years of friendship it was obvious there was something Jack wasn't letting on.
"I'm not entirely convinced I should be the one to tell you this, but I suppose now is as good of a time as any." He readjusted his position in the chair and then looked up at his friend. "Sydney and Agent Vaughn intend to marry."
"Come again?"
"Agent Vaughn will be my son-in-law one day soon. So perhaps my suggestions are founded on a personal desire to see my daughter happy, but it is also my professional opinion that whatever bond they shared prior to the destruction of SD-6, was beneficial to my daughter and to the agency."
"And you're okay with this?"
"I want my daughter and granddaughter happy," he shrugged. "Ben," he met the man's gaze, hoping to plead with the emotional side that he knew lay underneath the firm exterior of the CIA Director, "My daughter and Agent Vaughn were competent professionals when the situation called for it, I assure you. However, I can tell you on good authority that you can't always control your emotions, or stop loving someone even when your head is telling you it's not what you should feel."
"You can assure me that Agent Vaughn is not going to form an emotional attachment to another agent under his supervision?"
"I can assure you that if the opportunity arises where Agent Vaughn is shown to have an emotional attachment to another asset - especially a *female* asset - I will handle him myself."
Ben smirked. He was familiar with all of Jack's methods. Silently he hoped that Jack was right, and that no emotional attachment would be formed again. Not only because he liked Sydney Bristow and would be saddened to see her hurt, but even he was hesitant to consider what would happen to Agent Vaughn if another one of his handler-agent relationships ever turned personal.
"You have my word on that Ben," Jack vowed. Both men stood and shook hands.
"Congratulations," Ben said as Jack's eyebrow rose. "I hope that Agent Vaughn makes Sydney very happy."
"Yes, as do I," he politely smiled before exiting the office.
"Do you want to start telling people?" Mike asked as Sydney looked up curiously. Early that evening Jackie was slouched in her swing sleeping while her parents were stretched out on the floor. Sydney lay on her belly, chin in her hands while Mike lay across from her on his side, his head held up by his hand. A massive jigsaw puzzle - one depicting the Eiffel Tower - was spread out on the floor in front of them.
"Huh?"
He laughed and clicked two pieces together. "I think it's safe to assume that Francie, Charlie, Will and Jennie will probably stop by tonight. Should we tell them about our engagement?"
"We should tell your mother first," she reasoned, brushing a piece of hair back behind her ear. "I want to tell Francie and Will, but Will plans on asking Jennie to marry him on Saturday. I don't want to steal that from him, especially when your family doesn't even know."
"Once my mother is over her shock, she'll want to throw an engagement party," he mused, remembering the massive party that she had thrown when Patrick and Charlotte became engaged almost ten years ago.
"What were your parents like?" she asked softly. "When you were little, what do you remember them being like?"
"My mother was only nineteen when they were married, barely twenty when Charlotte was born. When my sister got married, I remember her saying that she wondered if her Honeymoon baby would come back with a Honeymoon baby," he remembered as she smiled. "Then she was almost twenty two when I was born."
"You and Charlotte are that close in age?"
"February of '67 to November of '68," he explained. "My father was a few years older than my mother… Nothing too drastic, he was twenty-five or twenty six when they were married. He was a tall guy, everyone says I look a lot like him…" he trailed off, as Sydney's smile grew small, searching his face for resemblance to the one black and white photocopied picture she had seen of William Vaughn. "They were great together… They were always laughing. Dad would complain about work and then Mom would complain about work and then they'd spend the rest of the night making bad jokes about one another's occupation…" His lips cracked into a smile as he recalled the long-buried thoughts. "I remember one time, I was probably four or five… My mother could be a real workaholic. She was a wonderful mother, she still is, but she loves her work… She also loves to nap," he laughed at the memory. "My mom is a champion napper, she always has been. One time Mom fell asleep in the living room and Dad couldn't get her to wake up. He tried everything, then he left the room. Charlotte and I had no idea what was going on, until he returned with some water in a pan."
"Oh, he didn't!" She laughed as she tried to imagine William Vaughn with his younger wife in earlier, easier, playful times.
"My father was a former frat boy, he was actually the president of his fraternity senior year. From anything I've ever been told, he was a consummate professional at work, but at home he loved a practical joke. So, in an attempt to wake my mother up, he dumped the cold water on her."
"What did your Mother do?" She laughed.
"My mother is not one to be outdone. They ended up in a water fight in the kitchen, she used the sink hose and he found my water gun. By the end of the day the floor was soaked, it was a disaster," he chuckled at the memory. "They were always goofing off. If we went someplace in two cars for some reason, on the way home Charlotte would go with my mother and I'd go with my father and they'd race one another to see who would get home first. My father came up with some of the most incredible short cuts, all in an attempt to get home first."
"Who won?"
"Most of the time Mom and Charlotte did," he confessed. "One thing that my father did not possess was a good sense of direction, and most of his short cuts ended up getting us lost for a few moments along the way."
"They sounded like they were really happy."
"They were," he agreed. "They both loved old cars and ghost stories… Hockey, they both loved hockey," he smiled. "We moved here from France when I was two or three… But I remember that my mother was so excited about moving to America and my dad was so nervous that she wouldn't do well."
"I'm assuming your mother did fine."
"She was more popular with our neighbors than he was," he explained.
"What does your mom do?"
"She's a nurse. It took her six years to get her degree, since she was going part time, but she got it. She worked part time while we were growing up, and she stopped working when Maya was born."
"Your mother must be a great grandmother."
"She loves it," he grinned. "It's going to work out Syd. We've worked too hard to have all of this fall apart when it should just be coming together."
"What's your favorite CD?" she asked, a delicious grin spreading over her face as she clicked a few puzzle pieces into place.
"Syd, not this game again!" he playfully groaned. One of her favorite things to do during their secret late night rendezvous, while lying in his arms and fingering the light dusting of hair up and down his arms, was ask him inane questions. The more inane, the more she seemed to enjoy asking them.
"Mike, it's not a hard question," her _expression was blank, although he easily noticed the mischievous twinkle in her eye.
"Fine. Springsteen's Greatest Hits."
Her lips curled, and somehow he suspected she had known ahead of time what he would say. Some wonders, such as Sydney Bristow, would never cease to amaze him.
"Least favorite book?" he shot back.
"Steinbeck's 'The Pearl'. I must have read it three times in eighth and ninth grade and I hated it more each time," she recalled. "Why did you name your dog Donovan?"
Mike looked over as his dog slept curled up next to the swing. "I'm pretty sure he's Jackie's dog now." They laughed at his correction. "Are you sure you want to hear this story?"
"After three years of sharing my boring anecdotes with you, Agent Vaughn, my ears are wide open."
"Alice was with me when I got him in 1996. That was the same year that she had this ridiculous crush on a Canadian Olympian named Donovan Bailey. Now it's a little known fact that Alice is allergic to dogs, so when she showed up one day and I had a dog, she wasn't too happy. To appease her I let her name the dog, and Bailey just seemed so… girly." His nose wrinkled as he continued, "I didn't want Donovan's dog buddies picking on him for having a girly name, so I allowed her to name him Donovan."
"There was a guy on Party of Five named Bailey."
"Still sounded girly to me," he huffed. "Donovan is a *boy* Syd, and I *know* he's a dog, but I didn't want some well intentioned stranger questioning my dog's masculinity."
This time Sydney was unable to stop her laughter. Rolling over onto her back, she hugged her stomach as her laughter filled the room. Eventually Mike's lips cracked into a smile, silently relenting that it was a slightly ridiculous take on how he named his dog.
"Are you going to be terribly disappointed if we ever have a son and he's not the quarterback of the football team?" she asked as she got back into her former position, wiping away the tears of laughter that had sprung into her eyes.
"Of course not Syd. Just… Imagine that Jackie is a few years older, but her hair is short. Would you really want someone to come up and ask you if your toddler is a boy or girl?"
"You realize Jackie's our *daughter* and Donovan's our *dog*?" she teased as he grumbled.
"When was the first time you slept with someone?" he asked as her eyes widened.
"What?"
"What?" he asked innocently. "It was a perfectly reasonable question, Agent Bristow," he teased.
"Listen… I wasn't really popular in high school, and I went to the all-girls part of the school. Then in college I was busy with work…." she trailed off nervously.
"Syd, it's okay," he said sincerely. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want."
"No, it's okay," she smiled. "I *wanted* to sleep with Sam my senior year," she recalled.
"The guy from senior prom?" Mike clarified as she nodded. "But?"
"But… I didn't know him that well. Growing up, Mandy was the one to give me the sex talk. Obviously that wasn't something I could address with my father," she explained. "She explained to me that it might just be an act, but you're only going to have your first time *once*. You can't take it back or fix it. The first time, any time really, should be a *gift* of myself to another person. Everything about it seemed terrifying. Really, I was terrified of the entire thing until I was in college. As much as I was interested in Sam, I was just as relieved that it didn't happen… Plus, I *was* raised going to church regularly, and there was a point where that was extremely important to me. I even had a religion minor for three semesters."
"And?" he gently prodded. The last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable; he hadn't expected the question to make her so nervous.
Sydney brushed hair behind her ear and smiled. "His name was Dan. He was really sweet; he was always on the injured list on the baseball team because of this reoccurring foot injury. We had gone to the same prep school but never really met until Francie and her boyfriend Baxter set us up sophomore year."
"Francie dated someone named *Baxter*?"
"Baxter was on the basketball team and at the time, Francie felt 'so very lucky' to have him," she smirked at the memory. "Anyway, Dan was a business and communications major… He was so sweet. We didn't even kiss until we'd been together for seven months," she laughed at the memory. "We slept together March of my junior year. I was almost twenty one."
"Whatever happened to Dan?"
Sydney let out a heavy sigh and continued, "April of my senior year I told Dan I was going to Russia for two weeks on a business trip. Oddly enough, I *was* actually going to Russia that week. There was this big bank forum that was meeting there and it was all over the news so none of my friends thought it was unusual. Anyway, the day before my birthday Dan arrives at my hotel. Luckily, we had completed a major part of the op and he didn't jeopardize our cover. He took me out on one of the most beautiful nights I had ever seen. Then he proposed to me."
"You said no?"
"I said no," she agreed. "I wasn't ready… I loved Dan, and he was so wonderful, but I just couldn't promise anyone my life yet. So how old were you Agent Vaughn?" Her eyebrows lifted as he looked down at the puzzle.
"Nineteen. We'd won a hockey game to take the conference title that year and that was… Um... "
"Your congratulatory present?" she smirked.
"I was nineteen!" he reminded her.
"Age is always a great scapegoat," she agreed. In truth, she wasn't the wisest at nineteen either. That age would always be marked in her mind as the age she joined SD-6.
"Honestly I was just glad to get it over with. Every other guy I knew had - or at least claimed to have - slept with someone at least once. I could only handle being called 'Vaughny the Virgin' for so long."
"They actually called you that?" She laughed as his cheeks burned.
"I was an athlete," he reminded her. "Most college guys, never mind college athletes, aren't too hesitant when given the option to get into someone's pants."
"So you were a ladies man," she teased.
"Not exactly; I just knew a lot of them."
"Sure," she skeptically appeased him.
"C'mon! How would I have had time to play hockey, take the courses I was taking *and* get into Michigan Law if I was a ladies man?" he pointed out as she silently conceded defeat. "So what were you like in college?"
"Ugh," she groaned. "My social life can be summed up in three words - dorm salad bar," she confessed as he laughed. "I was so busy with work and the only friend I really had was Francie. She thought I was nuts, since I was taking every foreign language offered at UCLA. Did you know they offered eighteen languages?"
"Now I do," he grinned. "Were you always good at languages?"
"No," she rolled her eyes at the idea. "Would you actually believe I nearly failed Spanish during my freshman and junior years of high school? Both times it literally came down to me passing the final to actually pass the course."
"I guess we know that moving to Spain is out of the question."
"I could do it," she confidently insisted. "I can speak it, fluently, but sometimes it takes more thought process as opposed to when I can just open my mouth and it'll naturally come."
"How did you manage to learn all of those languages *and* get your credit courses *and* the necessary credits for the English degree all while working for the bank?"
"I never stopped," she sighed. "I was *always* taking classes - intersession, summer sessions; if they offered the opportunity to take a course during a break, I'd jump on it. That's probably part of the reason why my social life revolved around the salad bar," she sheepishly grinned.
"So of those eighteen, how many do you know?"
"All of them," she shrugged. "There are some - such as Hebrew and Armenian - that I can only carry on a very basic conversation or read something crucial in. The others that I'm fluent in."
"You're amazing," he complimented.
"So are you," she smiled. "I'm sure you were amazing in college."
"Not like you were. I wasn't saving the world," he joked.
Sydney's face fell as she clicked two more pieces into place and sighed, "Neither was I."
"Hey," he gently beckoned, silently kicking himself in the ass for his seemingly harmless comment. She met his eyes, her brown ones full of regret. "Sydney, you thought you were doing good, you thought you were working for the good guys. Eventually you were, and you won."
"I wish I could see me like you do," she whispered.
"Syd," he reached out for her hand. "I'm always going to be here. You'll see yourself like I do one day, I promise, even if it's the last thing I achieve."
Her face broke out into a smile. Precariously bending over the puzzle, her lips met his, their exchange broken by Jackie. Quiet fusses quickly turned into full-blown screams, as she demanded her parents' attention.
"I think I smell a Jackie gem," he smirked as he moved to stand.
"A 'Jackie gem'?" Her eyebrows rose as he shrugged. Sydney's brown eyes remained watching as he unbuckled and picked their daughter out of her swing, making an exaggerated face of disgust as he sniffed the back of her onesie.
"Did my little girl do a big number two?" he asked her as Sydney laughed. "C'mon sweetie, let's go get changed."
"Are you sure you got it?" she called as he started to walk down towards the nursery.
"I got it Syd!" He promised as he walked out of sight.
Author: UConn Fan (Michele)
E-Mail: LoveUConnBasketball@yahoo.com
Story Summary: "Can I be normal?"
He shrugged, "what does normal mean anyway? You can be happy though, and that's about as close to normal as anyone can hope for." (Sequel to "Coming to Terms")
This Chapter: A wedding date is set, the engaged couple bond & Ben & Jack have a chat.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own ANY of these characters; they belong to Bad Robot, ABC, and the brilliant J.J. Abrams. Nor do I own anything recognizable. Don't sue.
Authors Note: IMHO this is a short chapter, and I apologize for that, but I thought I'd made you guys wait long enough. I'll TRY to post another by Christmas, BUT I'm sick & busy so I make no promises. Also I'm working on the first chapter of my next big story - don't expect that until this one's done. Keep in mind that I never INTENDED on writing a sequel to "Coming to Terms" - I really never even thought I'd finish that. Originally the ending was going to be this page and a half long summary that tied up everything by being a retrospect of when Sydney's fifty. I was going to put that as the last chapter of CtT, but if I did that now you'd probably all maul me. So work with me here.
Also, if anyone knows anything about Armenia or was in the Peace Corp. or knows anything about the California real estate system, please feel free to e-mail me because I might need some help sometime soon.
"Syd, c'mon, we're going to be late!" Michael called over his shoulder in a hushed voice. He watched as Sydney finished adjusting the soft baseball cap on Jackie's head. Content that their daughter was warm, she shut the passenger's door and walked over to him, their daughter nestled next to her in the snugli.
"How are we going to be late? Did you make an appointment with the sun gods?" she teased as their fingers intertwined.
"You're not funny," he playfully insisted, handing her a decaf _mocha from Starbucks - her favorite.
"I'm funnier than you," she smirked and took a sip of the coffee. "This place is even more beautiful before the sun rises," she noticed as they walked along the familiar pier. This time there was no emergency, no fear of being watched or keeping their covers intact; instead, it was just the tiny family of three, enjoying the Los Angeles sunrise from the pier. "Do you have any idea," she paused to yawn, "how early this is?"
"This was your idea," he shot back, his free hand carrying his own Styrofoam Starbucks. "You're the one who kept us out late playing hockey."
"You're just mad because I won two games and you only took one," she teased.
"I'm sorry," he said seriously.
"For what?"
"This is what we should have been doing…This would have been a good six month anniversary date… But we're already engaged and I've never even taken you on a proper date."
"So?" She smiled and shrugged. "You don't consider breaking into the Vatican together or when you broke into SD-6 to save us a romantic escapade?"
Mike laughed and shook his head. "It's not what you deserved Syd."
"We didn't date. We courted."
"Courted?" His eyebrow rose at the term, his eyes scanning the pre-dawn sky.
"You were there for me and took care of me in the sweetest ways. You romanced me in such a sweet way…" she trailed off thoughtfully. When he saw the blush slowly rise to her cheeks, his face broke out in a wide smile. No matter how he viewed their relationship, it was obvious she had no disappointments.
"I'm not done yet," he reminded her.
After she smiled and nodded, she looked down at her feet as they walked along the wooden pier. "It's still weird for me, not getting up and going to Credit Dauphine… I have so much clothes in my closet that I'm certain I'll never wear again. I'm thinking about giving them to Amy. Or maybe Maya and Jackie could use them for dress up one day," she suggested lightly. Mike smirked with a nod. "I've been thinking about it though… About that life… I don't regret it. Sure, there are parts of it that I regret," she added and met his eyes. "If we had waited… Or if I had never found out the truth about SD-6… I wouldn't have either of you," she explained as her eyes briefly cast down to their daughter. "What do you think about June 19th?"
"Hmm?" he asked, yawning and confused.
"It's probably too soon, I'm not sure… I just thought June 19th would be a nice day to get married…"
Looking at his watch, he realized that the date was in exactly a month. Meeting her eyes, he was unable to quench the excitement he saw there. It wouldn't be easy, but if she wanted it, he knew the strings to pull to make it happen. "It's probably too soon… I don't have a dress or a location and we need a priest and a license - " she started to ramble when he didn't immediately respond.
"Syd, I've already put in the papers to make you my emergency contact. I've also started the necessary papers to have Jackie added as my dependent and to have myself added to her birth certificate and change her last name. It's not too soon for me. I can get us a location, if you think you can find a dress that you want and take care of what you need to take care of."
"You don't think I'm being ridiculous?"
"No," he smiled and shook his head. "Eric's sister is a photographer, I could probably get him to ask her to help us. Plus, I think I know a great spot for a wedding that I'm positive is available."
"Where?"
"It's a surprise," he smiled. "You'll find out soon enough."
Sydney nodded, trusting his promise. "I want the reception at Francie's restaurant."
"If it's what you want," he agreed with a shrug. When his sister had been frantically planning her wedding to Patrick, he had watched his brother-in-law sit back and allow his sister to plan the entire thing. In the end both Charlotte and Patrick were pleased with the result.
"This is the first place where I realized we were in trouble," she confessed as they stopped walking, leaning up against the side rails. Standing closely to him, she let her body rest safely against his, his arm coming around her shoulder as the sun started to rise.
"When you told me you were pregnant?"
"No," she laughed and shook her head. "A long time before that. The night that my father stood me up for dinner… God, I just called and you were there. You were on a date or something too, weren't you?" she remembered in horror. He had never mentioned what he had been doing that night, but when he had met her at the pier it was obvious he hadn't just been at home watching a hockey game.
"Yeah. With Alice. She wasn't too happy with me after that," he remembered.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be," he shook his head. "I'm not. I'm not what she wanted. We tried to work through everything . . . Last I heard she was engaged to some lawyer from Palisades."
"I should call Dixon today to see if we're still okay for Saturday."
"Do you think you will be?"
"I hope so," she shrugged. "I hope that if Diane did something drastic like kick him out he'd come to me. He's my friend Mike, if he needed something I'd give it to him."
"I know," he nodded. One of the things he admired and loved best about her was the way she treated those she cared about.
"Is your mother going to like me?" she asked softly, drawing him out of his contemplations of the many reasons why he loved her.
"I told her I was bringing a woman to dinner on Sunday. That's all I told her," he confessed as her face fell slightly. "I want to tell her everything Syd, and I will… I just couldn't do it over the phone."
"I know you will," she smiled up at him, all of her faith in him evident on her face. "Are you going to tell her about my mother?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "She's had to cope with it for nearly twenty five years… She still visits him every week, still talks about him like he's only been gone a week… She's my mother Syd, she deserves to know."
"You're right," she agreed. "Your mother deserves to know."
"But?" he gently urged, squeezing her hand and reading her obviously troubled _expression.
"What if she holds it against me?"
"Syd," he breathed out as his arm tightened. "You're not your mother, nor are you responsible for her sins. Anyone who knows anything about you knows that you would never betray your government."
"Your mother doesn't know me," she feebly reminded him.
"She will soon enough," he encouraged with a smile.
"At least we know my father likes you."
"Yeah," he smiled, hoping his _expression didn't betray his thoughts. One detail he vividly remembered of his first meeting with Jack Bristow was seeing the wrong end of a gun barrel. Luckily, the two men had come a long way in the years that had passed, having developed a mutual respect and understanding. Truth be told, he couldn't guarantee that Jackie's first serious boyfriend wouldn't face the same fate, although he prayed the circumstances would be far removed from the life they had lived.
"What is it?" She easily read his gaze, having grown far too adept to seeing his concerned _expression over the years.
"It's nothing… I was just remembering the first time I met your father."
"Let me guess, Jack Bristow lived up to his reputation."
"All that and more," he agreed.
"Sorry you had to go through that."
"He's your father, he didn't know who I was or what I wanted, I would have been disappointed if his reaction was anything less." In truth, Jack hadn't been entirely wrong that first day they met. Even early on, a tiny part of him enjoyed the thought that part of what got her up in the morning was meeting with him. "I might not have always agreed with your father's tactics Syd, but he is brilliant at what he does."
"Yeah," she nodded. "When I told him we were getting married, he didn't seem at all surprised."
"Were you trying to surprise him?"
"I don't know," she shrugged, briefly lost in thought. "I don't know what I was expecting… He said he had expected that we'd get married, especially since Jackie, but I still thought he'd have more to say. At least he agreed to walk me down the aisle. Then he asked if you made me happy."
"And you said?" he teased as she laughed.
"I said yes!"
"We should probably expect the opposite from everyone else we tell," he advised.
"By that you mean everyone else will gladly let us know what a mistake they think we're making?"
"Oh yeah," he playfully agreed. Once their laughter died down, they locked hands and continued to walk the pier.
Later that morning Jack walked down the familiar halls of the CIA headquarters. Walking into Devlin's office, he bypassed the secretary with a slight nod and knocked on Ben's door. "You wanted to see me?" He slipped into the room and looked at his old friend.
"Yes Jack. Please come in and sit down."
"Ben, is something wrong?"
"This appeared on my desk today," he said as he handed Jack a folder. Flipping through it he saw that it was paperwork, all filled out in Agent Vaughn's sloppy hand, to make Sydney Bristow his emergency contact. Underneath that were the necessary forms to start the process of adding himself to Jacqueline's birth certificate and changing her surname to Vaughn, all while making her his dependent.
"Yes?" Jack's eyebrows rose slightly as he put the folder back on Ben's desk.
"This is not good Jack."
"Why not?"
"Agent Vaughn was your daughter's handler throughout the majority of her duration as a double agent for the CIA. These documents would indicate that the office suspicions are correct and that Agent Vaughn breached the contract of agent and handler relation. This could result in serious implications for him."
"My daughter is no longer an employee of the CIA. All these documents indicate is that Agent Vaughn has offered to be my granddaughter's father and is close to my daughter. It indicates nothing more," he said sternly. "I suppose to some that it could *imply* that they broke the agent-handler contract, but if they did, neither of them let it alter their job performance."
"What do you suggest I do with Agent Vaughn?"
"Nothing," Jack said blankly. "There's no need for disciplinary action when there is no evidence that the agent-handler contract was breached. These documents are simply evidence that they are now good friends. Confidants supposedly. We both can agree that it's not unusual for an agent and handler to remain in contact even after one or both of them retire."
"Naming a former asset as an emergency contact is a little more than remaining in casual contact through Christmas and birthday cards."
"You asked me for my suggestion. My suggestion is to do nothing. I firmly believe that Agent Vaughn, regardless of any appropriate or inappropriate attachment he has to my daughter, is an asset to this agency. His work has been consistently exceptional, and without him as her case handler, I question whether Sydney would have been able to achieve as much as she did."
Jack knew Ben was technically above him, although barely a superior. His words were true however; he saw no reason to punish Agent Vaughn, particularly when his daughter was no longer an agent at the CIA. Plus, he firmly believed that the improper - and he admitted to himself that it *was* improper - attachment that his daughter and future son-in-law had shared as employees of the CIA had only been beneficial to all involved.
"What do you know?" Ben questioned.
"Pardon me?"
"What do you know Jack? You were never Agent Vaughn's biggest supporter, and here you are telling me it's basically pointless to punish him for breaking a *very* crucial rule regarding handler-agent behavior."
"Agent Vaughn has shown consistently good work and was effective as my daughter's handler."
"What else is there?" Ben pressed. After so many years of friendship it was obvious there was something Jack wasn't letting on.
"I'm not entirely convinced I should be the one to tell you this, but I suppose now is as good of a time as any." He readjusted his position in the chair and then looked up at his friend. "Sydney and Agent Vaughn intend to marry."
"Come again?"
"Agent Vaughn will be my son-in-law one day soon. So perhaps my suggestions are founded on a personal desire to see my daughter happy, but it is also my professional opinion that whatever bond they shared prior to the destruction of SD-6, was beneficial to my daughter and to the agency."
"And you're okay with this?"
"I want my daughter and granddaughter happy," he shrugged. "Ben," he met the man's gaze, hoping to plead with the emotional side that he knew lay underneath the firm exterior of the CIA Director, "My daughter and Agent Vaughn were competent professionals when the situation called for it, I assure you. However, I can tell you on good authority that you can't always control your emotions, or stop loving someone even when your head is telling you it's not what you should feel."
"You can assure me that Agent Vaughn is not going to form an emotional attachment to another agent under his supervision?"
"I can assure you that if the opportunity arises where Agent Vaughn is shown to have an emotional attachment to another asset - especially a *female* asset - I will handle him myself."
Ben smirked. He was familiar with all of Jack's methods. Silently he hoped that Jack was right, and that no emotional attachment would be formed again. Not only because he liked Sydney Bristow and would be saddened to see her hurt, but even he was hesitant to consider what would happen to Agent Vaughn if another one of his handler-agent relationships ever turned personal.
"You have my word on that Ben," Jack vowed. Both men stood and shook hands.
"Congratulations," Ben said as Jack's eyebrow rose. "I hope that Agent Vaughn makes Sydney very happy."
"Yes, as do I," he politely smiled before exiting the office.
"Do you want to start telling people?" Mike asked as Sydney looked up curiously. Early that evening Jackie was slouched in her swing sleeping while her parents were stretched out on the floor. Sydney lay on her belly, chin in her hands while Mike lay across from her on his side, his head held up by his hand. A massive jigsaw puzzle - one depicting the Eiffel Tower - was spread out on the floor in front of them.
"Huh?"
He laughed and clicked two pieces together. "I think it's safe to assume that Francie, Charlie, Will and Jennie will probably stop by tonight. Should we tell them about our engagement?"
"We should tell your mother first," she reasoned, brushing a piece of hair back behind her ear. "I want to tell Francie and Will, but Will plans on asking Jennie to marry him on Saturday. I don't want to steal that from him, especially when your family doesn't even know."
"Once my mother is over her shock, she'll want to throw an engagement party," he mused, remembering the massive party that she had thrown when Patrick and Charlotte became engaged almost ten years ago.
"What were your parents like?" she asked softly. "When you were little, what do you remember them being like?"
"My mother was only nineteen when they were married, barely twenty when Charlotte was born. When my sister got married, I remember her saying that she wondered if her Honeymoon baby would come back with a Honeymoon baby," he remembered as she smiled. "Then she was almost twenty two when I was born."
"You and Charlotte are that close in age?"
"February of '67 to November of '68," he explained. "My father was a few years older than my mother… Nothing too drastic, he was twenty-five or twenty six when they were married. He was a tall guy, everyone says I look a lot like him…" he trailed off, as Sydney's smile grew small, searching his face for resemblance to the one black and white photocopied picture she had seen of William Vaughn. "They were great together… They were always laughing. Dad would complain about work and then Mom would complain about work and then they'd spend the rest of the night making bad jokes about one another's occupation…" His lips cracked into a smile as he recalled the long-buried thoughts. "I remember one time, I was probably four or five… My mother could be a real workaholic. She was a wonderful mother, she still is, but she loves her work… She also loves to nap," he laughed at the memory. "My mom is a champion napper, she always has been. One time Mom fell asleep in the living room and Dad couldn't get her to wake up. He tried everything, then he left the room. Charlotte and I had no idea what was going on, until he returned with some water in a pan."
"Oh, he didn't!" She laughed as she tried to imagine William Vaughn with his younger wife in earlier, easier, playful times.
"My father was a former frat boy, he was actually the president of his fraternity senior year. From anything I've ever been told, he was a consummate professional at work, but at home he loved a practical joke. So, in an attempt to wake my mother up, he dumped the cold water on her."
"What did your Mother do?" She laughed.
"My mother is not one to be outdone. They ended up in a water fight in the kitchen, she used the sink hose and he found my water gun. By the end of the day the floor was soaked, it was a disaster," he chuckled at the memory. "They were always goofing off. If we went someplace in two cars for some reason, on the way home Charlotte would go with my mother and I'd go with my father and they'd race one another to see who would get home first. My father came up with some of the most incredible short cuts, all in an attempt to get home first."
"Who won?"
"Most of the time Mom and Charlotte did," he confessed. "One thing that my father did not possess was a good sense of direction, and most of his short cuts ended up getting us lost for a few moments along the way."
"They sounded like they were really happy."
"They were," he agreed. "They both loved old cars and ghost stories… Hockey, they both loved hockey," he smiled. "We moved here from France when I was two or three… But I remember that my mother was so excited about moving to America and my dad was so nervous that she wouldn't do well."
"I'm assuming your mother did fine."
"She was more popular with our neighbors than he was," he explained.
"What does your mom do?"
"She's a nurse. It took her six years to get her degree, since she was going part time, but she got it. She worked part time while we were growing up, and she stopped working when Maya was born."
"Your mother must be a great grandmother."
"She loves it," he grinned. "It's going to work out Syd. We've worked too hard to have all of this fall apart when it should just be coming together."
"What's your favorite CD?" she asked, a delicious grin spreading over her face as she clicked a few puzzle pieces into place.
"Syd, not this game again!" he playfully groaned. One of her favorite things to do during their secret late night rendezvous, while lying in his arms and fingering the light dusting of hair up and down his arms, was ask him inane questions. The more inane, the more she seemed to enjoy asking them.
"Mike, it's not a hard question," her _expression was blank, although he easily noticed the mischievous twinkle in her eye.
"Fine. Springsteen's Greatest Hits."
Her lips curled, and somehow he suspected she had known ahead of time what he would say. Some wonders, such as Sydney Bristow, would never cease to amaze him.
"Least favorite book?" he shot back.
"Steinbeck's 'The Pearl'. I must have read it three times in eighth and ninth grade and I hated it more each time," she recalled. "Why did you name your dog Donovan?"
Mike looked over as his dog slept curled up next to the swing. "I'm pretty sure he's Jackie's dog now." They laughed at his correction. "Are you sure you want to hear this story?"
"After three years of sharing my boring anecdotes with you, Agent Vaughn, my ears are wide open."
"Alice was with me when I got him in 1996. That was the same year that she had this ridiculous crush on a Canadian Olympian named Donovan Bailey. Now it's a little known fact that Alice is allergic to dogs, so when she showed up one day and I had a dog, she wasn't too happy. To appease her I let her name the dog, and Bailey just seemed so… girly." His nose wrinkled as he continued, "I didn't want Donovan's dog buddies picking on him for having a girly name, so I allowed her to name him Donovan."
"There was a guy on Party of Five named Bailey."
"Still sounded girly to me," he huffed. "Donovan is a *boy* Syd, and I *know* he's a dog, but I didn't want some well intentioned stranger questioning my dog's masculinity."
This time Sydney was unable to stop her laughter. Rolling over onto her back, she hugged her stomach as her laughter filled the room. Eventually Mike's lips cracked into a smile, silently relenting that it was a slightly ridiculous take on how he named his dog.
"Are you going to be terribly disappointed if we ever have a son and he's not the quarterback of the football team?" she asked as she got back into her former position, wiping away the tears of laughter that had sprung into her eyes.
"Of course not Syd. Just… Imagine that Jackie is a few years older, but her hair is short. Would you really want someone to come up and ask you if your toddler is a boy or girl?"
"You realize Jackie's our *daughter* and Donovan's our *dog*?" she teased as he grumbled.
"When was the first time you slept with someone?" he asked as her eyes widened.
"What?"
"What?" he asked innocently. "It was a perfectly reasonable question, Agent Bristow," he teased.
"Listen… I wasn't really popular in high school, and I went to the all-girls part of the school. Then in college I was busy with work…." she trailed off nervously.
"Syd, it's okay," he said sincerely. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want."
"No, it's okay," she smiled. "I *wanted* to sleep with Sam my senior year," she recalled.
"The guy from senior prom?" Mike clarified as she nodded. "But?"
"But… I didn't know him that well. Growing up, Mandy was the one to give me the sex talk. Obviously that wasn't something I could address with my father," she explained. "She explained to me that it might just be an act, but you're only going to have your first time *once*. You can't take it back or fix it. The first time, any time really, should be a *gift* of myself to another person. Everything about it seemed terrifying. Really, I was terrified of the entire thing until I was in college. As much as I was interested in Sam, I was just as relieved that it didn't happen… Plus, I *was* raised going to church regularly, and there was a point where that was extremely important to me. I even had a religion minor for three semesters."
"And?" he gently prodded. The last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable; he hadn't expected the question to make her so nervous.
Sydney brushed hair behind her ear and smiled. "His name was Dan. He was really sweet; he was always on the injured list on the baseball team because of this reoccurring foot injury. We had gone to the same prep school but never really met until Francie and her boyfriend Baxter set us up sophomore year."
"Francie dated someone named *Baxter*?"
"Baxter was on the basketball team and at the time, Francie felt 'so very lucky' to have him," she smirked at the memory. "Anyway, Dan was a business and communications major… He was so sweet. We didn't even kiss until we'd been together for seven months," she laughed at the memory. "We slept together March of my junior year. I was almost twenty one."
"Whatever happened to Dan?"
Sydney let out a heavy sigh and continued, "April of my senior year I told Dan I was going to Russia for two weeks on a business trip. Oddly enough, I *was* actually going to Russia that week. There was this big bank forum that was meeting there and it was all over the news so none of my friends thought it was unusual. Anyway, the day before my birthday Dan arrives at my hotel. Luckily, we had completed a major part of the op and he didn't jeopardize our cover. He took me out on one of the most beautiful nights I had ever seen. Then he proposed to me."
"You said no?"
"I said no," she agreed. "I wasn't ready… I loved Dan, and he was so wonderful, but I just couldn't promise anyone my life yet. So how old were you Agent Vaughn?" Her eyebrows lifted as he looked down at the puzzle.
"Nineteen. We'd won a hockey game to take the conference title that year and that was… Um... "
"Your congratulatory present?" she smirked.
"I was nineteen!" he reminded her.
"Age is always a great scapegoat," she agreed. In truth, she wasn't the wisest at nineteen either. That age would always be marked in her mind as the age she joined SD-6.
"Honestly I was just glad to get it over with. Every other guy I knew had - or at least claimed to have - slept with someone at least once. I could only handle being called 'Vaughny the Virgin' for so long."
"They actually called you that?" She laughed as his cheeks burned.
"I was an athlete," he reminded her. "Most college guys, never mind college athletes, aren't too hesitant when given the option to get into someone's pants."
"So you were a ladies man," she teased.
"Not exactly; I just knew a lot of them."
"Sure," she skeptically appeased him.
"C'mon! How would I have had time to play hockey, take the courses I was taking *and* get into Michigan Law if I was a ladies man?" he pointed out as she silently conceded defeat. "So what were you like in college?"
"Ugh," she groaned. "My social life can be summed up in three words - dorm salad bar," she confessed as he laughed. "I was so busy with work and the only friend I really had was Francie. She thought I was nuts, since I was taking every foreign language offered at UCLA. Did you know they offered eighteen languages?"
"Now I do," he grinned. "Were you always good at languages?"
"No," she rolled her eyes at the idea. "Would you actually believe I nearly failed Spanish during my freshman and junior years of high school? Both times it literally came down to me passing the final to actually pass the course."
"I guess we know that moving to Spain is out of the question."
"I could do it," she confidently insisted. "I can speak it, fluently, but sometimes it takes more thought process as opposed to when I can just open my mouth and it'll naturally come."
"How did you manage to learn all of those languages *and* get your credit courses *and* the necessary credits for the English degree all while working for the bank?"
"I never stopped," she sighed. "I was *always* taking classes - intersession, summer sessions; if they offered the opportunity to take a course during a break, I'd jump on it. That's probably part of the reason why my social life revolved around the salad bar," she sheepishly grinned.
"So of those eighteen, how many do you know?"
"All of them," she shrugged. "There are some - such as Hebrew and Armenian - that I can only carry on a very basic conversation or read something crucial in. The others that I'm fluent in."
"You're amazing," he complimented.
"So are you," she smiled. "I'm sure you were amazing in college."
"Not like you were. I wasn't saving the world," he joked.
Sydney's face fell as she clicked two more pieces into place and sighed, "Neither was I."
"Hey," he gently beckoned, silently kicking himself in the ass for his seemingly harmless comment. She met his eyes, her brown ones full of regret. "Sydney, you thought you were doing good, you thought you were working for the good guys. Eventually you were, and you won."
"I wish I could see me like you do," she whispered.
"Syd," he reached out for her hand. "I'm always going to be here. You'll see yourself like I do one day, I promise, even if it's the last thing I achieve."
Her face broke out into a smile. Precariously bending over the puzzle, her lips met his, their exchange broken by Jackie. Quiet fusses quickly turned into full-blown screams, as she demanded her parents' attention.
"I think I smell a Jackie gem," he smirked as he moved to stand.
"A 'Jackie gem'?" Her eyebrows rose as he shrugged. Sydney's brown eyes remained watching as he unbuckled and picked their daughter out of her swing, making an exaggerated face of disgust as he sniffed the back of her onesie.
"Did my little girl do a big number two?" he asked her as Sydney laughed. "C'mon sweetie, let's go get changed."
"Are you sure you got it?" she called as he started to walk down towards the nursery.
"I got it Syd!" He promised as he walked out of sight.