Title: Trying Normal Chapter 4
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: Mike meets the Dixons, Sydney meets the Vaughns.
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: I'm sorry . . I was sick. UConn lost to Oklahoma last night ::sob:: so be happy that your getting anything at all. OMG, how LOVED Sunday's episode! ::screams into a pillow!::. Everyone in my families sick, I'm sick, so I'm not 100% on my game. Good news is I finished my novel a few days ago and it's EXCELLENT! I'm SOO happy guys; of course my sister cried when she read it (it's sad, your SUPPOSED to cry) and my sister's boyfriend (okay, not offically, but they've both liked one another for years) gave me a title so now I'm happy! :) Hopefully now you can all be happy with this!
DEDICATION: Okay . . Whoever it is that wrote a 65k review composed of UPDATE! UPDATE! over and over again, this is for you! You made me smile & proved to me that, regardless of what I may think, "Trying Normal" is far from forgotten.
"Michael is bringing a woman to dinner?" Charlotte asked, the phone balanced between her ear and her shoulder as she spoke to her Mother late Saturday afternoon.
"Yes. I'm just as surprised as you are. Hopefully this mysterious date won't back out at the last minute."
"You believe he's made this up?"
"I believe that your brother is determined to make sure I never see the Vaughn name carried on!" Brigitte sighed as her daughter laughed.
"Maman you know that's not true. Michael just doesn't want to settle. You were never particularly fond of Alice anyway."
"I suppose your right," she relented. "I'd rather never have grandchildren then see your brother end up with Alice."
"Alice was very nice," she defended.
"Alice was a very nice young woman, but she wasn't the right woman for Michael. They dated for years and she never once went with him to a hockey game, not once. It was understandable in the beginning, but after such a long relationship how could you at least not try to attend one game when you know the person you love is so passionate about it? Remember Michael attended 'Phantom of the Opera' for her and never complained about it once?"
"He complained about it," Charlotte amended and chuckled. "Just never to you or Alice. I'm curious Maman, who *do* you want to see Michael with?"
"Someone as smart as he is, someone who can challenge him. Alice was never as intellectual as Michael was and we both know it. Someone who inspires Michael to actually want to start a family . . . Preferably someone who's Catholic," she finished feebly.
"That's it!" Charlotte laughed. "You could never forget that Alice was Lutheran, could you?"
"It would have been very difficult to balance if they had had children. You children can't very well ignore thirteen years of Catholic school - seventeen years in your case, Charlotte. Nor can you ignore the fact that Uncle Charles is a very respected local priest. Any person's religion can play a very important part in one's life, and I would want the same to go for my grandchildren."
"Neither Michael nor I has ever been particularly religious Maman."
"You've become more so since college and you've been married. I always hoped the same would go for your brother, at least when he has children of your own. As inactive as you may be in your religion, it's something you want to pass on to your children. Alice was Lutheran, it would have been natural for her to want to pass that to her children and it would have created an unavoidable conflict of interest."
"Well I don't think its Alice. It's someone entirely new."
"Her name is Sydney," Brigitte corrected. "We met a girl named Sydney a few months ago at the mall, did I tell you about her?"
"Yes. You mentioned she had her baby shortly before I had William."
"Exactly," Brigitte remembered. "She seemed like a wonderful person . . I just worry that Michael's missing out on so many wonderful women because of the possibility of them having children."
"You don't think he wants to be a stepfather?"
"Given his upbringing I'm not sure he knows how," she sighed. One thing she never regretted was the fact that she had never remarried; her children had done fine without a Father and she had never found anyone that sparked in her half of what she had felt with her late husband. Instead she had had her children to raise and her work to keep her busy. She just hoped that if the opportunities arouse that Michael wouldn't back out of a relationship due to the possibility of being a stepfather.
"Maman no one knows how to be a step-parent until it happens. I've never known Michael to willingly back out of anything if it's something he's passionate about."
"Law school?"
"He went for two and a half years. Then he got his security clearance for the agency and didn't want to work for the Office of General Council. He wanted to be slightly more hands on. At the time you thought it was wonderful, remember? Less travel, less danger?"
"I suppose," she sighed. "Does Michael resent me for wanting grandchildren?"
"No Maman," Charlotte laughed as she sat down to feed her youngest child while Maya snored softly on the living room floor; she had fallen asleep playing with her sleepy baby brother.
"He'd be a wonderful husband and Father . . . Perhaps I should invite Charles to dinner, he could counsel - "
"Maman Michael doesn't need counseling. He's only thirty five!"
"By then your Father was already married with two children!"
"Things are different now Maman, men get married for the first time at forty! Bringing a girl to dinner can only be a good sign. We need to trust that he knows what he wants in life. Some men never even marry or have children."
"Yes, I know . . I just always thought your brother would."
"So did I," Charlotte agreed. "He still might Maman. He's hardly an old man. Plus we don't want him to rush into something and marry someone that we all hate and he'll regret, do we?"
"I want you and your brother happy, you know that," Brigitte scolded.
"Michael was always very fussy when it came to dating women and you always said he wasn't picky enough. Maybe he'll surprise us tomorrow."
"I certainly hope your right."
At the same time the topic of their conversation was patiently abiding by Sydney's driving directions, strumming his fingers against the steering wheel in an attempt to remain calm. The last few days they had allowed themselves to ignore the rest of the world. They had watched television together, gone grocery shopping together and had taken Jackie to Story time that morning at the library. Both knew that it couldn't last; eventually it would be time to return to the real world. Dinner with the Dixon's was just the beginning of that, and he tried to remain calm. If he were that nervous about meeting her former SD-6 partner he couldn't imagine how difficult the next day would be for Sydney.
"Are you okay?" She asked gently, the nervous tension radiating from him reminded her of heat coming from a furnace.
"I'm fine," he smiled at her.
"Diane and Dixon are going to love you," she assured him. "Turn right," she directed as he pulled into the driveway of a modest albeit handsome house in a suburb of Los Angeles. "We're here," she unnecessarily pointed out as she unbuckled her seatbelt.
"I'll get Jackie," he nervously croaked as he got out of the car. Walking around to the passenger's side of the car, he opened the door and unclipped the car seat from the holder as his daughter continued to sleep.
"This is going to be fun," she took his hand and gently squeezed it. Smiling up at him she reached up and pushed his sunglasses back up his nose before leading him towards the front door. "It's lasagna," she whispered. "You love Italian food."
Before Mike could reply the front door opened. Diane Dixon was a petite, attractive woman in her mid-forties dressed in a casual slip dress with her hair pulled back out of her face. The moment she saw Sydney, a smile crossed her face and she pulled the younger woman into a hug. "Sydney! You look so good sweetheart!"
"Thank you Diane, you look great too," she sincerely complimented. Pulling back she reclaimed Mike's hand and gently pulled him towards her. "Diane Dixon, this is Michael Vaughn. Mike's Jackie's Father."
"Well it's wonderful to meet you!" She smiled and shook his hand. "You've been the topic of much speculation! I must say your daughter looks an awful lot like you!"
"Thank you," he smiled with slight hesitation.
"Take that as a compliment because she doesn't give many," Dixon said as he stepped into the doorframe behind his wife. "You must be Michael Vaughn."
"Marcus Dixon?" He asked as the men shook hands. "I've heard a lot about you."
"I wish I could say the same about you," Dixon smiled back.
"Well what are we doing?" Diane laughed as she moved out of the door. "Come on in, I know Deirdre's been going crazy asking when she'll get to play with Jackie again!"
"I'm sure Jackie's ready to play," Sydney smiled as they walked into a living room, surrounded by warm, soothing earth tones and comfortable, overstuffed furniture.
"I have to say you look wonderful Sydney. Jackie's not even two months old and you already look like you were never pregnant!" Diane complimented as she motioned for all of them to sit down.
"Thank you, I wish I could say I felt that way," she explained as she took a seat on the loveseat next to Mike and across from Diane and her former partner.
"So, Michael, what do you do for a living?" Diane asked as Deirdre walked into the room. After a brief introduction to Sydney's new beau, she sat down on the sofa and impatiently watched Sydney unbuckle the baby and then hand Jackie to her.
"I work for the government," he hesitantly explained. Given the recent revelations regarding SD-6 and Dixon's profession he was unsure of how the pair would take the news, but they seemed unfazed as they continued the conversation.
"Will you be working with Marcus?" Diane questioned as she motioned for them to try some of the appetizers.
"I'm not sure yet," he admitted. "I've been on vacation for the last week to be with my family."
"How long have you two been together?" Dixon asked, curious to the nature of their relationship and how long his former partner, who he still felt was family, had been with this man.
"Well . . " Sydney glanced at him and pushed hair behind her ear. Dixon smiled at what he recognized to be Sydney's 'thing'. If any of their enemies had ever wanted to see through Sydney's myriad of sophisticated aliases it would have been the ear tuck that gave her away.
"*Officially* we've been together about a week," Mike chuckled. "Unofficially for about a year and a half."
Next to him she nodded, estimating that it had begun about a year and a half before. The beginning of their relationship had been bumpy - one step forward and two tiny steps back, dancing around protocol and unspoken emotions and the complications that arose from such a life. There had been periods where they'd had to step away, misreading each other or just needing space. They'd always ended up back with one another, sharing what no one else could appreciate.
"Do you intend on helping Sydney and taking on your role as Jackie's Father?" Dixon soberly questioned.
"Marcus!" Diane hissed, the embarrassment obvious on her face before it ever reached her face.
"What?" He looked at his wife and whispered. "Officially or not, we love Sydney and I want to make sure she and Jackie are taken care of!"
"For the record," Michael spoke up and drew their attention off of one another towards him. "I have every intention of being Jacqueline's Father and assuring that they're both taken care of."
"Good," Diane smiled and stood up. "Well, he's passed my test," she confessed and looked at her husband as Sydney laughed. "I just hope you like lasagna," she looked at Michael.
"I love lasagna," he complimented.
"Great," she smiled. "I should go get dinner ready."
"Here, let me help you," Sydney insisted as she stood up and followed Diane out of the room.
That left Michael alone with Marcus. Looking over at Deirdre playing with his little girl, he racked his brain for some topic of conversation. "I owe you an apology," he realized as Marcus looked at him in confusion.
"Pardon me?"
"Sydney . . . We met through the CIA," he explained. "I was her handler. I was the one who told her under no uncertain terms could she tell you the truth about the organization you worked for," he explained. Reaching out he almost touched his nostrils with his finger, well aware that it was what he did when speaking of something uncomfortable.
"Sydney must really trust your judgment to follow your orders," he cracked a smile as Mike laughed.
"Not at first, but soon enough she did."
"You've got an amazing woman on your hands."
"Thank you, I know," he smiled.
"Are you ready for the challenge?"
"I sure hope so," he admitted as they both laughed.
"Take care of her. Take care of both of them," he warned the younger man in a tone devoid of humor.
"I will. That's all I've wanted to do for a long time," he confessed.
"Your daughter does look like you."
"She looks like Sydney," he insisted. "Which is how I wanted it to be."
"Has Jack met you?"
"Yes," he nodded. "I met him shortly after I started working with Sydney. He makes an . . Interesting first impression."
"Despite his reservations, I'm sure your aware that Jack is fiercely protective of his daughter and as a result his granddaughter as well."
"Yes," he recalled the barrel of a gun being Jack's way of introduction.
"I've worked with Sydney for years, and as a result I am also fiercely protective of her."
"I have no intention of letting Sydney go or hurting her."
"So you intend to make her an honorable woman by marrying her?"
"If she'll have me," he smirked as Dixon laughed.
"I trust Sydney's judgment," he explained before meeting the younger man's eyes. "I like you."
"I've heard a lot about you over the years, the feelings mutual," he smiled as they reached out to shake hands again, this time in understanding.
"So gentleman, are we ready for dinner?" Diane asked as she walked back in the room, accompanied by Sydney.
"I'm always hungry," Dixon stood up as his wife laughed.
"Deirdre, why don't you give me Jackie and go wash up?" Sydney suggested.
"Okay," she agreed as she handed the baby back to her. Cuddling her baby close, Mike watched as Sydney softly spoke to Jackie as she arranged the baby in her arms. "What are you looking at?" She smiled at him, as they were briefly alone in the living room.
"You with Jackie," he smiled. For him it was still a gift to be able to openly watch him; he'd even found himself not sleeping at night, instead watching her soft breathing and checking on his daughter as she snored in her slumber.
"Do I have something on my face?" She asked as he shook his head. "Diane likes you," she whispered as he approached her.
"Dixon really cares about you," he told her as she nodded.
"I really care about him too," she agreed as she rubbed her daughter's back. "Are you hungry?" She questioned as she gently placed her daughter back in the car seat.
"Yes," he smiled as she took his hand.
"Good, your going to need all the appetite you have. Diane makes the *best* lasagna on the west coast."
"Then I guess it's a good thing I came," he teased as they walked into the dining room.
Sydney hadn't been wrong when she said that Diane liked him; both Dixon and Diane seemed to like him. Deirdre was so preoccupied with checking on Jackie and begging her parents for a little sister that she barely noticed the new guest that her parents' friend had bought. The conversation had flowed easily; Diane and Dixon had honeymooned in the same area of France that he had grown up in and they spoke in depth about the area as Sydney listened eagerly. Perhaps her former occupation had taken her all over the world, but she'd never really traveled to just see or experience something, and she was eager to begin.
They returned to Sydney's home late Saturday night. After feeding Jackie a bottle, Mike offered to change her and put her down for bed so she could enjoy a bath. After a slight discussion, in which she insisted that she was capable of putting their daughter down and he assured her that he just wanted her to relax, he walked away with a rare win. Smiling to himself he started to change his daughter as he heard the water in the bathroom running as she prepared her bath.
Sydney opened her eyes when she felt a breeze of cool air entering the bathroom. Looking up from her bubble bath she smiled as Mike walked in. Barefoot with the top buttons of his shirt undone and his sleeves rolled up to his upper arms, she couldn't help but notice how attractive he was as he plodded down on the tile floor next to the bathtub.
"Did she go down?" She asked as he reached out to take the loofa and began to soap up her arms.
"Yep, out like a light. Something about the car puts her out," he noted.
"Only highways," she explained, leaning forward to allow him access to her back. A smile appeared on her face as he pressed a kiss right under her ear.
"I love you," he whispered before returning to his work. "Why only highways?"
"Something about stopping agitates her."
"Then L.A. traffic should kill her by the time she's driving," he noted as she laughed. "You know your going to be fine tomorrow," he reassured her as he cupped some of the bath water in his hand and rinsed the soap off of her back.
"Actually, I was thinking about Will."
"You were thinking about Will in the bath tub?" He leaned back on his feet to look at her as she nodded. "Should I be concerned?" He teased.
"No; I was wondering if he asked Jenny or not."
"That's right, he was going to pop the big question tonight," he remembered. "Do you think she'll say yes?"
"I hope she says yes," she sighed. "It was difficult enough for the three of us to make the change when Francie got married," she remembered. "Now that I'm getting married, I don't want Will to be the odd man out," she explained as she let out another heavy sigh. "My Father and I are close now, but Will and Francie will always be my family."
Michael smiled, his body devoid of any jealousy. It had taken him awhile to come to the realization that whatever special relationship Sydney shared with Will, it was closer to the type of familial relationship she shared with Francie then the relationship she shared with him. The relationship meant a great deal to her, but it was no cause for jealousy or worry of any kind on his part.
"I don't know Will or Jenny well, but they seem happy together. I just hope Jenny doesn't feel it's too soon."
"It's going to drive me mad not knowing," she admitted, turning around in the tub just in time to see him laugh.
"You'll find out soon Syd, I'm sure once Will and Jenny get out of bed you'll be one of the first people they call."
"Please don't mention Will in bed with anyone!" Her nose wrinkled in disgust as he continued to laugh. "Do you want me to mention Charlotte sleeping with her husband?" She pointed out as his laughter died down.
"That's not fair," he shot back as she grinned.
"I'm getting out, could you get me a towel?" She asked as he stood up and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around her as she stood. "Thanks," she smiled as he pressed a kiss against the side of her neck. "It hasn't been six weeks," she regretfully reminded him as he started to plant a trail of kisses towards her shoulder.
"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" He muttered as he continued to torture her with his lips.
"There are rules," she explained, quickly forgetting her words as he started to kiss back up her neck.
"Haven't you noticed we break a lot of those?" He teased as she laughed. Pulling away he gave her a dry expression. "Six weeks?" He asked as she nodded. Taking her hand he started to lead her out of the bathroom.
"Where are we going? I'm only in a towel!" She laughed as he continued to pull her towards the kitchen. Opening a random drawer, he pulled out a yearlong calendar.
"Our daughter was born?" He prompted, although she knew he was well aware of the date.
"April 11th."
"Today's date?"
"May 22nd."
Pointing towards April eleventh, he started to count aloud, "one. . Two . . . Three. . Four . . Five . . Six," he groaned when he realized that six landed him on the 23rd of May. Looking over at Sydney, he started to pout at the mischief in her eyes. "Tomorrow's the twenty third," he groaned as he buried his face in the side of her neck, resting his hands possessively on her hips.
"Are you implying that you want me to break my doctor's rules, Agent Vaughn?" She teased as he looked up at her.
"I'm *begging* you," he whispered as she laughed. Her hands went up to cradle the sides of his face before she leaned up to kiss him.
"You put Jackie in her room, right?" She whispered as he eagerly nodded. Laughing she took his hand and led him towards the bedroom.
"Thank god we're rebels," he muttered as she laughed and shut the bedroom door behind them.
Early Sunday afternoon Brigitte Vaughn stood in her kitchen. Making her son's favorite dinner - chicken cordon bleu - was something she enjoyed, but it wasn't the easiest meal to prepare. Looking up from her preparations she smiled as her eldest daughter walked into the room. "What's the score?"
"The Dodgers are beating the Diamondbacks, 3-1 in the third inning," Charlotte reported. "When is Michael due to arrive?"
"He should be here shortly," she sighed.
Michael sat behind the wheel of the Jeep and turned off the intersection, driving in the familiar direction of Woodmont Haven. Looking over at Sydney, he smiled, in awe of her ability to keep on her game face. Apparently she's more Jack Bristow's daughter then I thought, he mused.
"This is a pretty area," she noted, as the houses they passed by grew larger. They had driven for forty-five minutes down the coastline until they reached the shoreline city of Newport Beach.
"We're actually about fifteen minutes from the house," he explained. "We grew up in the Woodmont Haven section of the town," he explained. If he was expecting a reaction from his admission, he received none. "I should probably warn you that my Mother comes from a very well to do family in France. I still have cousins in France, my family runs very successful wineries throughout the country."
"Okay," she smiled, still unsure of where he was heading with the conversation. Her smile disappeared when they pulled to a stop in front of a security gate. A white security booth was set up outside and a security officer stepped out to meet them. Eyeing the black Iron Gate, she forced herself not to be nervous when she realized that they were at the entrance to Woodmont Haven.
"Hello Mr. Vaughn, it's been awhile since we've seen you," the guard smiled as he handed Michael a clipboard to sign in on. "Bringing some guests up to the house?"
"Sydney, this is Mr. Walters. Joe, this is my fiancée Sydney and our daughter Jacqueline."
"Daughter?" The aged guard asked before letting out a low laugh. "OOh, Mrs. Vaughn ought to have a good time with this one! Good luck!" He called as he opened the gates and allowed them entrance.
Mike looked over at Sydney and smiled sheepishly. "I'm fine," she insisted with a smile. Her eyes, however, betrayed her fears to him, just as they always had.
As they slowly drove by the massive estates, he turned onto a rounded driveway. Sydney's breathe caught when an Italian Mediterranean estate came into view. There was a large garage attached to the house and he came to a comfortable stop behind a Lexus Sports Utility Vehicle. Assuming it was Charlotte and Patrick's car, Sydney felt suddenly unprepared for what was head.
The sound of a car in her driveway had caught the attention of Brigitte's well-tuned ears. Standing at the sink she watched as her son got out of an unfamiliar red Jeep. Slamming his own door shut, she smiled at her son's manners as he went around the passenger's side door. Seconds later her jaw dropped when a woman she instantly recognized got out. Charlotte noticed her Mother's reaction seconds later as Brigitte's mouth remained wide open as her son grabbed a baby seat carrier out of the back seat of the Jeep.
"Maman, what's wrong?"
Shutting her mouth and setting down her towel, she turned and smiled at her daughter. "It appears your brother and his guests have arrived."
"Guests?" Charlotte questioned as she followed her Mother towards the front foyer. When her Mother gave no reaction, she called for her husband to bring the children and meet them in the foyer.
Opening the front door Brigitte watched as her son and Sydney Bristow climbed the steps hand in hand. Upon closer inspection it was obvious to Brigitte's eyes that the baby in the carrier was her grandchild. If nothing else the eyes and the chin cleft that both Michael and Charlotte had inherited from William were dead give away.
"Maman," Michael greeted as his Mother allowed him access into his childhood home.
"Michael," Brigitte replied as she shut the front door and turned to look at him.
Despite the fact that all of the Vaughn's eyes were on her, Sydney was taken away by the home's traditional interior. There were shining hardwood floors for as far as the eye could see along with beautiful moldings and a massive staircase in the center of the foyer. The exterior had only been a brief indication of how handsome the home appeared to be.
"Unca Mike!" Maya screamed in delight, running into the foyer and going to hug her Uncle's legs. The little girl was oblivious to the tension that only increased as her Father walked in carrying baby William. Tearing herself off of her Uncle's legs, she looked at the baby her Uncle was carrying and the woman he was accompanying. Smiling up at him, she silently awaited the same explanation as the rest of the family.
"Mom, Charlotte, Pat, Maya, this is Sydney Bristow and our daughter Jacqueline," he introduced, bringing his finger up to wipe the bottom of his nose.
"Your daughter?" Charlotte asked numbly as her brother nodded. "Well this is certainly a surprise," she muttered.
"How about we go to the living room?" Brigitte suggested as she started to lead them to a cozy family room. "Please Sydney, Michael, make yourselves at home."
Sydney glanced nervously at her fiancé as they sat together on the loveseat. Placing the carrier on the floor, Sydney kept herself briefly busy by unbuckling Jackie and picking her up, carefully resting the baby in her arms. Once again sneaking a peak at Mike, she silently waited for him to begin.
Resting his elbows on his knees, he joined his hands and looked at his Mother, sister and brother-in-law. Maya was busy sitting in front of the swing where William was sleeping and eyeing her new baby cousin with obvious interest. "I met Sydney three years ago. Until very recently she was working as a double agent for the CIA, helping take down one of our largest enemies. Her cover was working at a bank downtown; no one, with the exception of her Father and the CIA, was aware of her true occupation. My job was as her handler," he explained as his sister snorted. "Her life was very dangerous and if anyone even knew that she and I had contact, the organization for which she worked for would have her terminated. Thanks to Sydney's work, the CIA was able to dismantle an entire organization that was spread throughout the world. Without Syd, it would have taken us years to accomplish what ended up taking us only three years."
"Jacqueline?" Brigitte asked, folding her hands in her lap.
"She was born April 11th. I wasn't even able to meet her until she was a few days old," he explained.
"She's a beautiful baby," Brigitte said softly as Sydney smiled her thanks.
"Maman, there's more," he said softly. His Mother eyed him closely, wondering what else he could say that would probably have her waking up the next morning with white hair. "Sydney's Father is a man named Jack Bristow. For years he was also a double agent for the CIA. During my work with Sydney, we learned that in the late 1960's the KGB sent one of their agents over to America. Her job was to get close to a CIA agent and gain information on a highly classified project that the United States government was working on.
"During her time in America she still performed several operations for the KGB. During her operations she murdered twelve CIA operatives. She was the woman who murdered Dad," he explained. Sydney found herself unable to look at the family across from her, instead focusing on her own child. Internally she wondered who would win if Brigitte gave him an ultimatum, whether he'd walk away from the family he had always known or whether she'd be left to raise Jackie on her own.
Swallowing back her tears, Brigitte locked eyes with her son. "Is there more?"
"Yes, it gets worse," he confessed. "During her time in America, in her efforts to gain classified information, she married a CIA agent. Her name was Irina Derevko, but her alias was Laura Bristow."
Biting her lower lip, Brigitte stood and ran her fingers over the fabric of the sofa. Charlotte remained silent, cuddled up next to her husband's side as she kept looking at her Mother. Her Mother walked around the room, eyeing the photos and family mementos that filled the room. It had always been one of her favorite rooms; it had been one of the children's favorite rooms to play in growing up, and William had always loved it.
Turning around she looked at her son and the woman he had brought onto her property. She didn't need her son to spell out the obvious implications behind his words. It was plainly written on his expression as well as the guilty expression of Ms. Sydney Bristow. "Laura Bristow was your Mother," she spoke as Sydney looked up. Her brown eyes were briefly startled but she nodded.
"I'm so sorry -"
"Don't," Brigitte waved a hand to stop her. "No one can expect you to amend for the sins of your Mother," she said quietly. Looking at her son she locked eyes with him. "If you don't mind, I'd like to speak to Michael alone for a moment."
"Of course Maman," Michael agreed as he stood and followed his Mother into the adjoining room. Brigitte closed the door and started to speak in a loud French, unaware that Sydney could understand everything she said.
"You now have a child who you not only kept a secret from your family but has one grandmother who killed her grandfather!" Brigitte scolded in French. In the adjoining room Charlotte sent Sydney an uneasy smile, which she returned.
"Jacqueline is a beautiful baby," Charlotte said softly.
"Thank you, William's adorable," Sydney returned. Maya walked over to the sofa and climbed up next to Sydney
"Maya, leave -" Patrick started to command her to leave the baby alone when Sydney shook her head that it was fine. Smiling she carefully placed her daughter in Maya's tiny arms and then returned to listening to Brigitte and Michael's conversation.
"When Jacqueline is older we'll explain -" he started to reply in a slightly softer tone.
"How long have you known about Sydney's affiliation with your Father's murder?"
Sydney could almost hear him hesitating before he replied, "most of our time working together. Probably two and a half years."
"I don't think there are words to describe how disappointed I am in you!" She angrily spat. "First you conceal the fact that your having a *child*, even after I met Ms. Bristow! Then you hide from your entire *family* that you know the truth behind your Father's death! It was entirely inappropriate for you to remain her close colleague after you knew the truth Michel! What could have possibly possessed you to behave as you apparently have been? To keep an entire part of your life hidden from your family?"
"I couldn't walk away from Sydney!" He hissed in French. "I couldn't let her handle this by herself, and I couldn't tell you anything because it would have put her in danger! I was *not* going to put her in danger!"
"You should have walked away years ago Michel!"
"I couldn't do that Maman!"
"Explain to me why not? Apparently you've only buried yourself in further trouble!"
"I love her Maman," he said in a resonated sigh. Squirming uncomfortably on the once comfortable sofa, Sydney smiled at Maya and touched her daughter's hand, for the first time in her life wishing she didn't know French.
Brigitte sighed and looked at her only son, her anger bleeding in to sympathy. "You love the child of the woman who killed your Father?"
"I loved her before that," he confessed as he ran his fingers through his hair. "I loved her the day I met her. Do you remember Dad's watch?"
"The one he gave you after your communion?"
"Yes, he told me I could set my heart to that watch," he reminded her. When he spoke again his voice was soft as he found a way to explain, "It stopped the day I met Syd."
"You had a child Michel, you told none of us any of this," she shot back. This time her voice lacked its previous harshness, instead a resigned reminder.
"I love Sydney and I love Jackie, I wasn't going to jeopardize them or you and Charlotte by telling anyone. They're my family Maman, don't make me choose between them and you."
Brigitte sat down and sighed, "I won't make you choose, since I know you wouldn't choose us."
"Please Maman, get to know Sydney. She's nothing like her Mother. No one feels worse about her Mother's actions then Sydney, and if she could go back and change them I know she would."
"She loves you too."
"Yes," he agreed as he cracked a smile.
"I don't know what to say Michel, this is *not* what I was expecting this weekend."
"You always wanted grandchildren," he pointed out helpfully as his Mother laughed. "Right now she's Jacqueline Michele Bristow, but soon enough she'll be Jacqueline Michele Vaughn."
"You had a child out of sin Michel."
"Sydney and I plan on getting married," he explained. "I'd like your permission to use the terrace on June 19th for our wedding."
"Oh Michel," she stood up and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she paced. "This is so much to take in at once."
"Yes, I know," he nodded.
Looking up, Brigitte brushed hair out of her eyes and gave her son a small smile. "Is she catholic?"
Michael stood as he laughed. "Yes, Sydney's catholic, and she even waited until everyone met so Uncle Charles could baptize Jackie."
Walking over to her son, she placed her hands on his elbows and looked up at him. "This woman means everything to you," she realized softly. Before he could respond, she continued, "I see it in your eyes Michel. I can kick and scream about this all I want, but you are going to do what you feel is right, which is always what I wanted you to do anyway," she smiled. "She must be a truly wonderful woman if she's made you feel this way and makes you this happy."
"She is Maman," he promised as he pulled his Mother into a hug.
"What do you do for a living?" Sydney asked Charlotte pleasantly in the adjoining room, reassured that the Brigitte and Michael's yelling had died down.
"I'm a marriage counselor," she explained as her husband smirked. Sydney laughed as Charlotte nudged Patrick in the ribs and rolled her green eyes. "What do you plan on doing?"
Deciding it was not a good idea to mention her sabbatical from the working place, she shrugged, "I haven't decided yet. I graduated with my Masters in Literature a year or so ago, and I'd like to be a literature professor one day."
"Where did you study?"
"UCLA, undergraduate and graduate," she smiled. "What about you?"
"Loyola Marymount, unlike Mikey I wanted to stay close to home."
"Mikey?" Sydney laughed at the new nickname.
"I wouldn't call him that. The first time I met him I called him Mikey and he damn near killed me," Patrick warned.
Sliding open the door to the adjoining room, Brigitte glided in followed by her son. "Sydney, I hope you can pardon our abrupt departure," Brigitte said as she sat down on the sofa next to her daughter.
"Yes, of course," she nodded and briefly met Michael's eyes. He sat down next to her and took her hand.
"Be careful Maya," he warned his niece, who smiled up at him.
"Well Sydney, I hope you enjoy chicken cordon bleu," Brigitte smiled.
"Sounds delicious," she smiled. "Mrs. Vaughn -"
"Please, call me Brigitte," she insisted.
"Brigitte," she corrected. "You have a really lovely home."
"Thank you, I've lived here since we moved to America. Are you originally from California?"
"No," she shook her head. "I was born in West Virginia, but I spent most of my life here."
"Well do you live near here?"
"I have a place in Los Angeles."
"Where are you working now?"
"Oh," she pushed a piece of hair behind her ear and remembered to keep a smile on her face. Meeting Danny's family had never been an issue, and she found herself briefly wishing that it hadn't been an issue with Michael either. "I'm not working at the moment, but I would like to be a literature professor."
"Do you plan on returning to work this fall?" Charlotte asked. Sydney glanced over at Michael, waiting for him to speak.
"Syd's going to take the next school year off, be a stay at home Mom to Jackie," he explained.
"It was very smart of you to put some money aside so you could take time off with Jackie," his sister noted as Sydney looked nervously at her lap.
"Actually, Char, Sydney and I are going to get married. Next month, actually."
"Really?" Charlotte asked as Michael nodded. "Congratulations!" She cried as she grabbed her husband's hand and stood up. Walking around the coffee table Charlotte and Patrick hugged the other couple. "Obviously this is sudden for the rest of us, but congratulations, I'm sure you'll be very happy together," she commented as they sat back down. "So what type of wedding did you have in mind?"
"Something small," Sydney smiled.
"Before we leave I want to show Sydney the terrace, I think it'll be a perfect location for a ceremony," Mike spoke up.
"If you want it, you two are welcome to use it," Brigitte said softly. Throughout the short dialect she found herself carefully studying Sydney, wondering what sort of resemblance she bore to the woman who had torn William from her. There was something in Michael's face, however, a gentle undercurrent to how he held her hand and smiled at their daughter that she found herself wanting to believe that this woman was who her son felt she was. "What about your family?"
"My Mother . . Left when I was six," she carefully worded. "Until recently my relationship with my Father was . . .Nonexistent. I have good friends, Will and Francie; I've known them since college. Francie's married to Charlie and Will's seeing a girl named Jenny. They're my family."
"Does your Father know of your . . Intentions to marry my son?"
"Yes," Sydney nodded.
"I've known Jack for a few years," Michael admitted, not backing down when Brigitte sent him another disapproving gaze.
"He was . . . Not surprised when I told him the news," she explained.
"That's nice," Charlotte spoke up, trying to ease along the conversation. "You said your relationship was nonexistent until recently. That's changed?"
"Slowly," Sydney agreed. "I can talk to him now, and he's a wonderful grandfather for Jackie, which is more then I expected," she smiled.
"Do you plan on selling your apartment Michel, and moving in with Sydney?" Brigitte questioned.
"We haven't worked out the details yet," he admitted. "I've brought Donnie over to her place though, and it's where I'm spending most of my time," he confessed.
Suddenly Jackie's cries broke through the awkward conversation. Looking over at the girl who would soon be her niece, Sydney tried not to laugh at the panicked expression on Maya's face. "It's okay, she's just hungry," Sydney assured the little girl as she took back her daughter.
"I'll go warm up the bottle," Mike grabbed a bottle out of the diaper bag and began to stand.
"I'll do it," Brigitte stood. After he handed her the bottle, her son smiled at her, realizing that it was her first step in accepting the way things now were.
"Michel . . . . It's going to take her some time," Charlotte whispered after their Mother had walked out of the room. Turning towards Sydney, she smiled at the family newcomer and at the infant she was attempting to calm. "Motherhood's a tricky thing, isn't it?" She asked as Sydney laughed.
"Actually I'm really enjoying it," she confessed, her voice raised to be heard over her daughter's cries.
"When was she born?" Patrick asked.
"April 11th," Michael answered. "She was eight pounds and twenty inches," he added proudly.
"How big is she now?" Charlotte questioned, internally relieved that her own son hadn't been disturbed.
"She was a little under nine pounds at her last appointment," he explained.
"She looks a lot like both of you," Patrick noted as they thanked him.
Brigitte walked back into the room seconds later, carrying the warm bottle. As she approached Sydney she kept the bottle to herself and smiled down at the younger woman. "Would you mind if I fed her?"
Glancing briefly at Michael she looked back at Brigitte and shook her head. "No, of course not," she agreed as she stood and gently placed her daughter in her Grandmother's arms. The room was quiet as Brigitte sat carefully down in a plush wing chair, her eyes on the baby as she adjusted the infant in her arms and started to feed her.
"What are you calling her?" Brigitte asked softly as she balanced the baby in her arms.
"We've been calling her Jackie," Sydney explained. "I named her after Michael and my Father."
"It's a beautiful name," the Vaughn matriarch cooed down to the infant in her arms. "Is she always such a champion eater?"
"Usually," Sydney laughed.
Looking up at her son and future daughter in law, Brigitte silently watched the way they held hands and the silent glances they shared when no one thought they were looking. They were striking couple and when they were together it was impossible to deny what they shared. How her son's superiors at the CIA had remained oblivious for so long was a mystery to her. Together they had found the rare gift that she had shared with her William; a gift that she had always wanted her children to find. Perhaps her Michel had not found discovered it in the type of woman that she had imagined, but he had discovered it. At the heart of the matter, that's all that mattered.
"You two have been very blessed," she said softly as Sydney and Michael shared soft smiles and thanked her. "How about a tour?" She suggested as they all stood and she allowed her daughter to lead a tour through the expansive home.
Sydney Bristow was, on all accounts, a perfect guest and Jackie was as well behaved as one infant could be. Maya loved her new baby cousin, and asked her Uncle on multiple occasions if she could come over and dress her up some time. The little girl even sat on the study floor after dinner, watching her brother and new cousin as they slept in a portable playpen. Then once she grew bored with that she climbed up onto her Uncle's lap and listened as her Uncle and Father debated the Mets play off chances.
After the sun went down Brigitte walked out onto the terrace to find Sydney standing there. The younger woman was looking out how the dusky sky painted over the beautiful view of the ocean. Looking at the beach Sydney had realized that months earlier Michael had taken her there to help pay her final respects to her Mother. Regardless of his own feelings towards Irina Derevko he had once again put them aside. Instead he had offered her a private sanctuary where she could say the goodbye and find the peace she had desperately needed. Her discovery was just another thing she had to add to the many reasons why she loved him.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Brigitte asked as the other woman whipped around, startled.
"Yes," she smiled. "It is."
"Would you like some tea?" She offered as she set down a tray with a pot of warm tea and a few mugs.
"That'd be nice," she agreed as she sat down and took the mug Brigitte offered her.
Looking at the younger woman, Brigitte saw a spark of herself in her younger years. A quick estimate helped her decide that Sydney Bristow was, at the most, in her early thirties. By that age, Brigitte was a widow while Sydney was just ready to begin her marriage. The look in Sydney's brown eyes, however, reminded her of her own reflection in the days of her engagement to William. A certain spark that no amount of acting or false enthusiasm could produce.
Taking a sip of her tea, Brigitte set her mug down on the table and looked at the young woman. "Your Mother caused our family a great deal of pain."
The look Sydney gave her was enough to break a thousand hearts. Her sons earlier words rung true in her heart; the young woman in front of her would have traded in nearly anything to correct her Mother's wrongs. "Brigitte, I can't -"
"You can't Sydney," she stopped her. "You can not be expected to bear the weight of your Mother's sins. Just as no one except Michael ever expected him to bear his Father's responsibilities to this country. I would be lying if I said that I'm disappointed and hurt by my son's non-disclosure of his life with you, of his unwillingness to share Jacqueline's arrival . . . Perhaps a little bit of disappointment in your lack of honesty at our chance encounter," she said softly as Sydney looked down at her hands. "The truth is my son loves you a great deal. Perhaps more then any woman deserves to be loved. I would know - my William loved me just that way," she remembered as Sydney smiled. "In one respect you are luckier then I ever was," she explained.
"How so?" Sydney asked softly.
"One of William's faults was that the one thing he loved more then me was this country. I don't believe that's the case with Michel. He'd betray this country before he'd ever let anyone go near you."
Sydney looked down at her tea and brushed hair out of her face, "that's not how it should be," she whispered.
"Perhaps not for two CIA operatives, but it is how it should be with a man and a woman," Brigitte calmly corrected. "I don't want us to get off on a bad foot Sydney, although Michel informed me that you're fluent in French so I suppose we already have," she smiled as the younger girl laughed and nodded. "I was starting to believe my Michel would never get married, and I told my daughter just the other day that he was determined to make sure I never see the Vaughn name carried on. That's obviously not the case. Instead he was waiting for you, and waiting until it was safe for you. As disappointed as I am in his . . . Deceit, I am proud of how loyal he is to you, and I appreciate his need for secrecy."
"Mike never wanted to hurt you," Sydney explained as the elder woman nodded.
"I know," she assured her. "As difficult as it was for us after my William died, I suspect it must have been even more difficult for you. You lived your life believing your Mother was this wonderful woman who died . . Then you learned that everything you believed in was a lie. I am sincerely sorry you had to experience that. For what it's worth, I'm sure you as a Mother know that regardless of the circumstances around a child's conception, once your a Mother you can't stop loving that child. I'm sure that there must have been something good in your Mother, just as there's something good in everyone, and a large part of who she was as a good person had to do with you."
"Thank you," she whispered as Brigitte smiled.
"Perhaps, next weekend, if you and my son aren't busy, you could come again. Perhaps bring your family this time? Your friends, Will and Francie, are of course invited to come. That way we could all get to know one another before the wedding."
"I'll speak to my Dad about it," she smiled gratefully.
"This place will be a beautiful place for a wedding," Brigitte noted as Sydney's smile widened.
"You don't mind us using the terrace?"
"No, I'd be insulted if you didn't," she insisted as Sydney smiled. "Your welcome to use the house for the reception as well."
"Francie owns a restaurant, I was hoping to have the reception there."
"That sounds wonderful," she smiled warmly.
Looking out towards the sky, Brigitte took a sip of her tea. Obviously deep in contemplation, she looked over at Sydney and sighed. "I don't suppose I know how to say this any other way."
"What's that?"
"Welcome to the family."
Next Chapter: Vaughn returns to work . . Did Jenny say yes? . . . . Oh, and the King of Evil makes a guest appearance! Please R & R! Last chapter didn't do as well as I was hoping, so maybe this one will do better! Even if you hate it (okay, don't flame me without a good reason; CONSTRUCTIVE criticism) please tell me!
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: Mike meets the Dixons, Sydney meets the Vaughns.
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: I'm sorry . . I was sick. UConn lost to Oklahoma last night ::sob:: so be happy that your getting anything at all. OMG, how LOVED Sunday's episode! ::screams into a pillow!::. Everyone in my families sick, I'm sick, so I'm not 100% on my game. Good news is I finished my novel a few days ago and it's EXCELLENT! I'm SOO happy guys; of course my sister cried when she read it (it's sad, your SUPPOSED to cry) and my sister's boyfriend (okay, not offically, but they've both liked one another for years) gave me a title so now I'm happy! :) Hopefully now you can all be happy with this!
DEDICATION: Okay . . Whoever it is that wrote a 65k review composed of UPDATE! UPDATE! over and over again, this is for you! You made me smile & proved to me that, regardless of what I may think, "Trying Normal" is far from forgotten.
"Michael is bringing a woman to dinner?" Charlotte asked, the phone balanced between her ear and her shoulder as she spoke to her Mother late Saturday afternoon.
"Yes. I'm just as surprised as you are. Hopefully this mysterious date won't back out at the last minute."
"You believe he's made this up?"
"I believe that your brother is determined to make sure I never see the Vaughn name carried on!" Brigitte sighed as her daughter laughed.
"Maman you know that's not true. Michael just doesn't want to settle. You were never particularly fond of Alice anyway."
"I suppose your right," she relented. "I'd rather never have grandchildren then see your brother end up with Alice."
"Alice was very nice," she defended.
"Alice was a very nice young woman, but she wasn't the right woman for Michael. They dated for years and she never once went with him to a hockey game, not once. It was understandable in the beginning, but after such a long relationship how could you at least not try to attend one game when you know the person you love is so passionate about it? Remember Michael attended 'Phantom of the Opera' for her and never complained about it once?"
"He complained about it," Charlotte amended and chuckled. "Just never to you or Alice. I'm curious Maman, who *do* you want to see Michael with?"
"Someone as smart as he is, someone who can challenge him. Alice was never as intellectual as Michael was and we both know it. Someone who inspires Michael to actually want to start a family . . . Preferably someone who's Catholic," she finished feebly.
"That's it!" Charlotte laughed. "You could never forget that Alice was Lutheran, could you?"
"It would have been very difficult to balance if they had had children. You children can't very well ignore thirteen years of Catholic school - seventeen years in your case, Charlotte. Nor can you ignore the fact that Uncle Charles is a very respected local priest. Any person's religion can play a very important part in one's life, and I would want the same to go for my grandchildren."
"Neither Michael nor I has ever been particularly religious Maman."
"You've become more so since college and you've been married. I always hoped the same would go for your brother, at least when he has children of your own. As inactive as you may be in your religion, it's something you want to pass on to your children. Alice was Lutheran, it would have been natural for her to want to pass that to her children and it would have created an unavoidable conflict of interest."
"Well I don't think its Alice. It's someone entirely new."
"Her name is Sydney," Brigitte corrected. "We met a girl named Sydney a few months ago at the mall, did I tell you about her?"
"Yes. You mentioned she had her baby shortly before I had William."
"Exactly," Brigitte remembered. "She seemed like a wonderful person . . I just worry that Michael's missing out on so many wonderful women because of the possibility of them having children."
"You don't think he wants to be a stepfather?"
"Given his upbringing I'm not sure he knows how," she sighed. One thing she never regretted was the fact that she had never remarried; her children had done fine without a Father and she had never found anyone that sparked in her half of what she had felt with her late husband. Instead she had had her children to raise and her work to keep her busy. She just hoped that if the opportunities arouse that Michael wouldn't back out of a relationship due to the possibility of being a stepfather.
"Maman no one knows how to be a step-parent until it happens. I've never known Michael to willingly back out of anything if it's something he's passionate about."
"Law school?"
"He went for two and a half years. Then he got his security clearance for the agency and didn't want to work for the Office of General Council. He wanted to be slightly more hands on. At the time you thought it was wonderful, remember? Less travel, less danger?"
"I suppose," she sighed. "Does Michael resent me for wanting grandchildren?"
"No Maman," Charlotte laughed as she sat down to feed her youngest child while Maya snored softly on the living room floor; she had fallen asleep playing with her sleepy baby brother.
"He'd be a wonderful husband and Father . . . Perhaps I should invite Charles to dinner, he could counsel - "
"Maman Michael doesn't need counseling. He's only thirty five!"
"By then your Father was already married with two children!"
"Things are different now Maman, men get married for the first time at forty! Bringing a girl to dinner can only be a good sign. We need to trust that he knows what he wants in life. Some men never even marry or have children."
"Yes, I know . . I just always thought your brother would."
"So did I," Charlotte agreed. "He still might Maman. He's hardly an old man. Plus we don't want him to rush into something and marry someone that we all hate and he'll regret, do we?"
"I want you and your brother happy, you know that," Brigitte scolded.
"Michael was always very fussy when it came to dating women and you always said he wasn't picky enough. Maybe he'll surprise us tomorrow."
"I certainly hope your right."
At the same time the topic of their conversation was patiently abiding by Sydney's driving directions, strumming his fingers against the steering wheel in an attempt to remain calm. The last few days they had allowed themselves to ignore the rest of the world. They had watched television together, gone grocery shopping together and had taken Jackie to Story time that morning at the library. Both knew that it couldn't last; eventually it would be time to return to the real world. Dinner with the Dixon's was just the beginning of that, and he tried to remain calm. If he were that nervous about meeting her former SD-6 partner he couldn't imagine how difficult the next day would be for Sydney.
"Are you okay?" She asked gently, the nervous tension radiating from him reminded her of heat coming from a furnace.
"I'm fine," he smiled at her.
"Diane and Dixon are going to love you," she assured him. "Turn right," she directed as he pulled into the driveway of a modest albeit handsome house in a suburb of Los Angeles. "We're here," she unnecessarily pointed out as she unbuckled her seatbelt.
"I'll get Jackie," he nervously croaked as he got out of the car. Walking around to the passenger's side of the car, he opened the door and unclipped the car seat from the holder as his daughter continued to sleep.
"This is going to be fun," she took his hand and gently squeezed it. Smiling up at him she reached up and pushed his sunglasses back up his nose before leading him towards the front door. "It's lasagna," she whispered. "You love Italian food."
Before Mike could reply the front door opened. Diane Dixon was a petite, attractive woman in her mid-forties dressed in a casual slip dress with her hair pulled back out of her face. The moment she saw Sydney, a smile crossed her face and she pulled the younger woman into a hug. "Sydney! You look so good sweetheart!"
"Thank you Diane, you look great too," she sincerely complimented. Pulling back she reclaimed Mike's hand and gently pulled him towards her. "Diane Dixon, this is Michael Vaughn. Mike's Jackie's Father."
"Well it's wonderful to meet you!" She smiled and shook his hand. "You've been the topic of much speculation! I must say your daughter looks an awful lot like you!"
"Thank you," he smiled with slight hesitation.
"Take that as a compliment because she doesn't give many," Dixon said as he stepped into the doorframe behind his wife. "You must be Michael Vaughn."
"Marcus Dixon?" He asked as the men shook hands. "I've heard a lot about you."
"I wish I could say the same about you," Dixon smiled back.
"Well what are we doing?" Diane laughed as she moved out of the door. "Come on in, I know Deirdre's been going crazy asking when she'll get to play with Jackie again!"
"I'm sure Jackie's ready to play," Sydney smiled as they walked into a living room, surrounded by warm, soothing earth tones and comfortable, overstuffed furniture.
"I have to say you look wonderful Sydney. Jackie's not even two months old and you already look like you were never pregnant!" Diane complimented as she motioned for all of them to sit down.
"Thank you, I wish I could say I felt that way," she explained as she took a seat on the loveseat next to Mike and across from Diane and her former partner.
"So, Michael, what do you do for a living?" Diane asked as Deirdre walked into the room. After a brief introduction to Sydney's new beau, she sat down on the sofa and impatiently watched Sydney unbuckle the baby and then hand Jackie to her.
"I work for the government," he hesitantly explained. Given the recent revelations regarding SD-6 and Dixon's profession he was unsure of how the pair would take the news, but they seemed unfazed as they continued the conversation.
"Will you be working with Marcus?" Diane questioned as she motioned for them to try some of the appetizers.
"I'm not sure yet," he admitted. "I've been on vacation for the last week to be with my family."
"How long have you two been together?" Dixon asked, curious to the nature of their relationship and how long his former partner, who he still felt was family, had been with this man.
"Well . . " Sydney glanced at him and pushed hair behind her ear. Dixon smiled at what he recognized to be Sydney's 'thing'. If any of their enemies had ever wanted to see through Sydney's myriad of sophisticated aliases it would have been the ear tuck that gave her away.
"*Officially* we've been together about a week," Mike chuckled. "Unofficially for about a year and a half."
Next to him she nodded, estimating that it had begun about a year and a half before. The beginning of their relationship had been bumpy - one step forward and two tiny steps back, dancing around protocol and unspoken emotions and the complications that arose from such a life. There had been periods where they'd had to step away, misreading each other or just needing space. They'd always ended up back with one another, sharing what no one else could appreciate.
"Do you intend on helping Sydney and taking on your role as Jackie's Father?" Dixon soberly questioned.
"Marcus!" Diane hissed, the embarrassment obvious on her face before it ever reached her face.
"What?" He looked at his wife and whispered. "Officially or not, we love Sydney and I want to make sure she and Jackie are taken care of!"
"For the record," Michael spoke up and drew their attention off of one another towards him. "I have every intention of being Jacqueline's Father and assuring that they're both taken care of."
"Good," Diane smiled and stood up. "Well, he's passed my test," she confessed and looked at her husband as Sydney laughed. "I just hope you like lasagna," she looked at Michael.
"I love lasagna," he complimented.
"Great," she smiled. "I should go get dinner ready."
"Here, let me help you," Sydney insisted as she stood up and followed Diane out of the room.
That left Michael alone with Marcus. Looking over at Deirdre playing with his little girl, he racked his brain for some topic of conversation. "I owe you an apology," he realized as Marcus looked at him in confusion.
"Pardon me?"
"Sydney . . . We met through the CIA," he explained. "I was her handler. I was the one who told her under no uncertain terms could she tell you the truth about the organization you worked for," he explained. Reaching out he almost touched his nostrils with his finger, well aware that it was what he did when speaking of something uncomfortable.
"Sydney must really trust your judgment to follow your orders," he cracked a smile as Mike laughed.
"Not at first, but soon enough she did."
"You've got an amazing woman on your hands."
"Thank you, I know," he smiled.
"Are you ready for the challenge?"
"I sure hope so," he admitted as they both laughed.
"Take care of her. Take care of both of them," he warned the younger man in a tone devoid of humor.
"I will. That's all I've wanted to do for a long time," he confessed.
"Your daughter does look like you."
"She looks like Sydney," he insisted. "Which is how I wanted it to be."
"Has Jack met you?"
"Yes," he nodded. "I met him shortly after I started working with Sydney. He makes an . . Interesting first impression."
"Despite his reservations, I'm sure your aware that Jack is fiercely protective of his daughter and as a result his granddaughter as well."
"Yes," he recalled the barrel of a gun being Jack's way of introduction.
"I've worked with Sydney for years, and as a result I am also fiercely protective of her."
"I have no intention of letting Sydney go or hurting her."
"So you intend to make her an honorable woman by marrying her?"
"If she'll have me," he smirked as Dixon laughed.
"I trust Sydney's judgment," he explained before meeting the younger man's eyes. "I like you."
"I've heard a lot about you over the years, the feelings mutual," he smiled as they reached out to shake hands again, this time in understanding.
"So gentleman, are we ready for dinner?" Diane asked as she walked back in the room, accompanied by Sydney.
"I'm always hungry," Dixon stood up as his wife laughed.
"Deirdre, why don't you give me Jackie and go wash up?" Sydney suggested.
"Okay," she agreed as she handed the baby back to her. Cuddling her baby close, Mike watched as Sydney softly spoke to Jackie as she arranged the baby in her arms. "What are you looking at?" She smiled at him, as they were briefly alone in the living room.
"You with Jackie," he smiled. For him it was still a gift to be able to openly watch him; he'd even found himself not sleeping at night, instead watching her soft breathing and checking on his daughter as she snored in her slumber.
"Do I have something on my face?" She asked as he shook his head. "Diane likes you," she whispered as he approached her.
"Dixon really cares about you," he told her as she nodded.
"I really care about him too," she agreed as she rubbed her daughter's back. "Are you hungry?" She questioned as she gently placed her daughter back in the car seat.
"Yes," he smiled as she took his hand.
"Good, your going to need all the appetite you have. Diane makes the *best* lasagna on the west coast."
"Then I guess it's a good thing I came," he teased as they walked into the dining room.
Sydney hadn't been wrong when she said that Diane liked him; both Dixon and Diane seemed to like him. Deirdre was so preoccupied with checking on Jackie and begging her parents for a little sister that she barely noticed the new guest that her parents' friend had bought. The conversation had flowed easily; Diane and Dixon had honeymooned in the same area of France that he had grown up in and they spoke in depth about the area as Sydney listened eagerly. Perhaps her former occupation had taken her all over the world, but she'd never really traveled to just see or experience something, and she was eager to begin.
They returned to Sydney's home late Saturday night. After feeding Jackie a bottle, Mike offered to change her and put her down for bed so she could enjoy a bath. After a slight discussion, in which she insisted that she was capable of putting their daughter down and he assured her that he just wanted her to relax, he walked away with a rare win. Smiling to himself he started to change his daughter as he heard the water in the bathroom running as she prepared her bath.
Sydney opened her eyes when she felt a breeze of cool air entering the bathroom. Looking up from her bubble bath she smiled as Mike walked in. Barefoot with the top buttons of his shirt undone and his sleeves rolled up to his upper arms, she couldn't help but notice how attractive he was as he plodded down on the tile floor next to the bathtub.
"Did she go down?" She asked as he reached out to take the loofa and began to soap up her arms.
"Yep, out like a light. Something about the car puts her out," he noted.
"Only highways," she explained, leaning forward to allow him access to her back. A smile appeared on her face as he pressed a kiss right under her ear.
"I love you," he whispered before returning to his work. "Why only highways?"
"Something about stopping agitates her."
"Then L.A. traffic should kill her by the time she's driving," he noted as she laughed. "You know your going to be fine tomorrow," he reassured her as he cupped some of the bath water in his hand and rinsed the soap off of her back.
"Actually, I was thinking about Will."
"You were thinking about Will in the bath tub?" He leaned back on his feet to look at her as she nodded. "Should I be concerned?" He teased.
"No; I was wondering if he asked Jenny or not."
"That's right, he was going to pop the big question tonight," he remembered. "Do you think she'll say yes?"
"I hope she says yes," she sighed. "It was difficult enough for the three of us to make the change when Francie got married," she remembered. "Now that I'm getting married, I don't want Will to be the odd man out," she explained as she let out another heavy sigh. "My Father and I are close now, but Will and Francie will always be my family."
Michael smiled, his body devoid of any jealousy. It had taken him awhile to come to the realization that whatever special relationship Sydney shared with Will, it was closer to the type of familial relationship she shared with Francie then the relationship she shared with him. The relationship meant a great deal to her, but it was no cause for jealousy or worry of any kind on his part.
"I don't know Will or Jenny well, but they seem happy together. I just hope Jenny doesn't feel it's too soon."
"It's going to drive me mad not knowing," she admitted, turning around in the tub just in time to see him laugh.
"You'll find out soon Syd, I'm sure once Will and Jenny get out of bed you'll be one of the first people they call."
"Please don't mention Will in bed with anyone!" Her nose wrinkled in disgust as he continued to laugh. "Do you want me to mention Charlotte sleeping with her husband?" She pointed out as his laughter died down.
"That's not fair," he shot back as she grinned.
"I'm getting out, could you get me a towel?" She asked as he stood up and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around her as she stood. "Thanks," she smiled as he pressed a kiss against the side of her neck. "It hasn't been six weeks," she regretfully reminded him as he started to plant a trail of kisses towards her shoulder.
"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" He muttered as he continued to torture her with his lips.
"There are rules," she explained, quickly forgetting her words as he started to kiss back up her neck.
"Haven't you noticed we break a lot of those?" He teased as she laughed. Pulling away he gave her a dry expression. "Six weeks?" He asked as she nodded. Taking her hand he started to lead her out of the bathroom.
"Where are we going? I'm only in a towel!" She laughed as he continued to pull her towards the kitchen. Opening a random drawer, he pulled out a yearlong calendar.
"Our daughter was born?" He prompted, although she knew he was well aware of the date.
"April 11th."
"Today's date?"
"May 22nd."
Pointing towards April eleventh, he started to count aloud, "one. . Two . . . Three. . Four . . Five . . Six," he groaned when he realized that six landed him on the 23rd of May. Looking over at Sydney, he started to pout at the mischief in her eyes. "Tomorrow's the twenty third," he groaned as he buried his face in the side of her neck, resting his hands possessively on her hips.
"Are you implying that you want me to break my doctor's rules, Agent Vaughn?" She teased as he looked up at her.
"I'm *begging* you," he whispered as she laughed. Her hands went up to cradle the sides of his face before she leaned up to kiss him.
"You put Jackie in her room, right?" She whispered as he eagerly nodded. Laughing she took his hand and led him towards the bedroom.
"Thank god we're rebels," he muttered as she laughed and shut the bedroom door behind them.
Early Sunday afternoon Brigitte Vaughn stood in her kitchen. Making her son's favorite dinner - chicken cordon bleu - was something she enjoyed, but it wasn't the easiest meal to prepare. Looking up from her preparations she smiled as her eldest daughter walked into the room. "What's the score?"
"The Dodgers are beating the Diamondbacks, 3-1 in the third inning," Charlotte reported. "When is Michael due to arrive?"
"He should be here shortly," she sighed.
Michael sat behind the wheel of the Jeep and turned off the intersection, driving in the familiar direction of Woodmont Haven. Looking over at Sydney, he smiled, in awe of her ability to keep on her game face. Apparently she's more Jack Bristow's daughter then I thought, he mused.
"This is a pretty area," she noted, as the houses they passed by grew larger. They had driven for forty-five minutes down the coastline until they reached the shoreline city of Newport Beach.
"We're actually about fifteen minutes from the house," he explained. "We grew up in the Woodmont Haven section of the town," he explained. If he was expecting a reaction from his admission, he received none. "I should probably warn you that my Mother comes from a very well to do family in France. I still have cousins in France, my family runs very successful wineries throughout the country."
"Okay," she smiled, still unsure of where he was heading with the conversation. Her smile disappeared when they pulled to a stop in front of a security gate. A white security booth was set up outside and a security officer stepped out to meet them. Eyeing the black Iron Gate, she forced herself not to be nervous when she realized that they were at the entrance to Woodmont Haven.
"Hello Mr. Vaughn, it's been awhile since we've seen you," the guard smiled as he handed Michael a clipboard to sign in on. "Bringing some guests up to the house?"
"Sydney, this is Mr. Walters. Joe, this is my fiancée Sydney and our daughter Jacqueline."
"Daughter?" The aged guard asked before letting out a low laugh. "OOh, Mrs. Vaughn ought to have a good time with this one! Good luck!" He called as he opened the gates and allowed them entrance.
Mike looked over at Sydney and smiled sheepishly. "I'm fine," she insisted with a smile. Her eyes, however, betrayed her fears to him, just as they always had.
As they slowly drove by the massive estates, he turned onto a rounded driveway. Sydney's breathe caught when an Italian Mediterranean estate came into view. There was a large garage attached to the house and he came to a comfortable stop behind a Lexus Sports Utility Vehicle. Assuming it was Charlotte and Patrick's car, Sydney felt suddenly unprepared for what was head.
The sound of a car in her driveway had caught the attention of Brigitte's well-tuned ears. Standing at the sink she watched as her son got out of an unfamiliar red Jeep. Slamming his own door shut, she smiled at her son's manners as he went around the passenger's side door. Seconds later her jaw dropped when a woman she instantly recognized got out. Charlotte noticed her Mother's reaction seconds later as Brigitte's mouth remained wide open as her son grabbed a baby seat carrier out of the back seat of the Jeep.
"Maman, what's wrong?"
Shutting her mouth and setting down her towel, she turned and smiled at her daughter. "It appears your brother and his guests have arrived."
"Guests?" Charlotte questioned as she followed her Mother towards the front foyer. When her Mother gave no reaction, she called for her husband to bring the children and meet them in the foyer.
Opening the front door Brigitte watched as her son and Sydney Bristow climbed the steps hand in hand. Upon closer inspection it was obvious to Brigitte's eyes that the baby in the carrier was her grandchild. If nothing else the eyes and the chin cleft that both Michael and Charlotte had inherited from William were dead give away.
"Maman," Michael greeted as his Mother allowed him access into his childhood home.
"Michael," Brigitte replied as she shut the front door and turned to look at him.
Despite the fact that all of the Vaughn's eyes were on her, Sydney was taken away by the home's traditional interior. There were shining hardwood floors for as far as the eye could see along with beautiful moldings and a massive staircase in the center of the foyer. The exterior had only been a brief indication of how handsome the home appeared to be.
"Unca Mike!" Maya screamed in delight, running into the foyer and going to hug her Uncle's legs. The little girl was oblivious to the tension that only increased as her Father walked in carrying baby William. Tearing herself off of her Uncle's legs, she looked at the baby her Uncle was carrying and the woman he was accompanying. Smiling up at him, she silently awaited the same explanation as the rest of the family.
"Mom, Charlotte, Pat, Maya, this is Sydney Bristow and our daughter Jacqueline," he introduced, bringing his finger up to wipe the bottom of his nose.
"Your daughter?" Charlotte asked numbly as her brother nodded. "Well this is certainly a surprise," she muttered.
"How about we go to the living room?" Brigitte suggested as she started to lead them to a cozy family room. "Please Sydney, Michael, make yourselves at home."
Sydney glanced nervously at her fiancé as they sat together on the loveseat. Placing the carrier on the floor, Sydney kept herself briefly busy by unbuckling Jackie and picking her up, carefully resting the baby in her arms. Once again sneaking a peak at Mike, she silently waited for him to begin.
Resting his elbows on his knees, he joined his hands and looked at his Mother, sister and brother-in-law. Maya was busy sitting in front of the swing where William was sleeping and eyeing her new baby cousin with obvious interest. "I met Sydney three years ago. Until very recently she was working as a double agent for the CIA, helping take down one of our largest enemies. Her cover was working at a bank downtown; no one, with the exception of her Father and the CIA, was aware of her true occupation. My job was as her handler," he explained as his sister snorted. "Her life was very dangerous and if anyone even knew that she and I had contact, the organization for which she worked for would have her terminated. Thanks to Sydney's work, the CIA was able to dismantle an entire organization that was spread throughout the world. Without Syd, it would have taken us years to accomplish what ended up taking us only three years."
"Jacqueline?" Brigitte asked, folding her hands in her lap.
"She was born April 11th. I wasn't even able to meet her until she was a few days old," he explained.
"She's a beautiful baby," Brigitte said softly as Sydney smiled her thanks.
"Maman, there's more," he said softly. His Mother eyed him closely, wondering what else he could say that would probably have her waking up the next morning with white hair. "Sydney's Father is a man named Jack Bristow. For years he was also a double agent for the CIA. During my work with Sydney, we learned that in the late 1960's the KGB sent one of their agents over to America. Her job was to get close to a CIA agent and gain information on a highly classified project that the United States government was working on.
"During her time in America she still performed several operations for the KGB. During her operations she murdered twelve CIA operatives. She was the woman who murdered Dad," he explained. Sydney found herself unable to look at the family across from her, instead focusing on her own child. Internally she wondered who would win if Brigitte gave him an ultimatum, whether he'd walk away from the family he had always known or whether she'd be left to raise Jackie on her own.
Swallowing back her tears, Brigitte locked eyes with her son. "Is there more?"
"Yes, it gets worse," he confessed. "During her time in America, in her efforts to gain classified information, she married a CIA agent. Her name was Irina Derevko, but her alias was Laura Bristow."
Biting her lower lip, Brigitte stood and ran her fingers over the fabric of the sofa. Charlotte remained silent, cuddled up next to her husband's side as she kept looking at her Mother. Her Mother walked around the room, eyeing the photos and family mementos that filled the room. It had always been one of her favorite rooms; it had been one of the children's favorite rooms to play in growing up, and William had always loved it.
Turning around she looked at her son and the woman he had brought onto her property. She didn't need her son to spell out the obvious implications behind his words. It was plainly written on his expression as well as the guilty expression of Ms. Sydney Bristow. "Laura Bristow was your Mother," she spoke as Sydney looked up. Her brown eyes were briefly startled but she nodded.
"I'm so sorry -"
"Don't," Brigitte waved a hand to stop her. "No one can expect you to amend for the sins of your Mother," she said quietly. Looking at her son she locked eyes with him. "If you don't mind, I'd like to speak to Michael alone for a moment."
"Of course Maman," Michael agreed as he stood and followed his Mother into the adjoining room. Brigitte closed the door and started to speak in a loud French, unaware that Sydney could understand everything she said.
"You now have a child who you not only kept a secret from your family but has one grandmother who killed her grandfather!" Brigitte scolded in French. In the adjoining room Charlotte sent Sydney an uneasy smile, which she returned.
"Jacqueline is a beautiful baby," Charlotte said softly.
"Thank you, William's adorable," Sydney returned. Maya walked over to the sofa and climbed up next to Sydney
"Maya, leave -" Patrick started to command her to leave the baby alone when Sydney shook her head that it was fine. Smiling she carefully placed her daughter in Maya's tiny arms and then returned to listening to Brigitte and Michael's conversation.
"When Jacqueline is older we'll explain -" he started to reply in a slightly softer tone.
"How long have you known about Sydney's affiliation with your Father's murder?"
Sydney could almost hear him hesitating before he replied, "most of our time working together. Probably two and a half years."
"I don't think there are words to describe how disappointed I am in you!" She angrily spat. "First you conceal the fact that your having a *child*, even after I met Ms. Bristow! Then you hide from your entire *family* that you know the truth behind your Father's death! It was entirely inappropriate for you to remain her close colleague after you knew the truth Michel! What could have possibly possessed you to behave as you apparently have been? To keep an entire part of your life hidden from your family?"
"I couldn't walk away from Sydney!" He hissed in French. "I couldn't let her handle this by herself, and I couldn't tell you anything because it would have put her in danger! I was *not* going to put her in danger!"
"You should have walked away years ago Michel!"
"I couldn't do that Maman!"
"Explain to me why not? Apparently you've only buried yourself in further trouble!"
"I love her Maman," he said in a resonated sigh. Squirming uncomfortably on the once comfortable sofa, Sydney smiled at Maya and touched her daughter's hand, for the first time in her life wishing she didn't know French.
Brigitte sighed and looked at her only son, her anger bleeding in to sympathy. "You love the child of the woman who killed your Father?"
"I loved her before that," he confessed as he ran his fingers through his hair. "I loved her the day I met her. Do you remember Dad's watch?"
"The one he gave you after your communion?"
"Yes, he told me I could set my heart to that watch," he reminded her. When he spoke again his voice was soft as he found a way to explain, "It stopped the day I met Syd."
"You had a child Michel, you told none of us any of this," she shot back. This time her voice lacked its previous harshness, instead a resigned reminder.
"I love Sydney and I love Jackie, I wasn't going to jeopardize them or you and Charlotte by telling anyone. They're my family Maman, don't make me choose between them and you."
Brigitte sat down and sighed, "I won't make you choose, since I know you wouldn't choose us."
"Please Maman, get to know Sydney. She's nothing like her Mother. No one feels worse about her Mother's actions then Sydney, and if she could go back and change them I know she would."
"She loves you too."
"Yes," he agreed as he cracked a smile.
"I don't know what to say Michel, this is *not* what I was expecting this weekend."
"You always wanted grandchildren," he pointed out helpfully as his Mother laughed. "Right now she's Jacqueline Michele Bristow, but soon enough she'll be Jacqueline Michele Vaughn."
"You had a child out of sin Michel."
"Sydney and I plan on getting married," he explained. "I'd like your permission to use the terrace on June 19th for our wedding."
"Oh Michel," she stood up and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she paced. "This is so much to take in at once."
"Yes, I know," he nodded.
Looking up, Brigitte brushed hair out of her eyes and gave her son a small smile. "Is she catholic?"
Michael stood as he laughed. "Yes, Sydney's catholic, and she even waited until everyone met so Uncle Charles could baptize Jackie."
Walking over to her son, she placed her hands on his elbows and looked up at him. "This woman means everything to you," she realized softly. Before he could respond, she continued, "I see it in your eyes Michel. I can kick and scream about this all I want, but you are going to do what you feel is right, which is always what I wanted you to do anyway," she smiled. "She must be a truly wonderful woman if she's made you feel this way and makes you this happy."
"She is Maman," he promised as he pulled his Mother into a hug.
"What do you do for a living?" Sydney asked Charlotte pleasantly in the adjoining room, reassured that the Brigitte and Michael's yelling had died down.
"I'm a marriage counselor," she explained as her husband smirked. Sydney laughed as Charlotte nudged Patrick in the ribs and rolled her green eyes. "What do you plan on doing?"
Deciding it was not a good idea to mention her sabbatical from the working place, she shrugged, "I haven't decided yet. I graduated with my Masters in Literature a year or so ago, and I'd like to be a literature professor one day."
"Where did you study?"
"UCLA, undergraduate and graduate," she smiled. "What about you?"
"Loyola Marymount, unlike Mikey I wanted to stay close to home."
"Mikey?" Sydney laughed at the new nickname.
"I wouldn't call him that. The first time I met him I called him Mikey and he damn near killed me," Patrick warned.
Sliding open the door to the adjoining room, Brigitte glided in followed by her son. "Sydney, I hope you can pardon our abrupt departure," Brigitte said as she sat down on the sofa next to her daughter.
"Yes, of course," she nodded and briefly met Michael's eyes. He sat down next to her and took her hand.
"Be careful Maya," he warned his niece, who smiled up at him.
"Well Sydney, I hope you enjoy chicken cordon bleu," Brigitte smiled.
"Sounds delicious," she smiled. "Mrs. Vaughn -"
"Please, call me Brigitte," she insisted.
"Brigitte," she corrected. "You have a really lovely home."
"Thank you, I've lived here since we moved to America. Are you originally from California?"
"No," she shook her head. "I was born in West Virginia, but I spent most of my life here."
"Well do you live near here?"
"I have a place in Los Angeles."
"Where are you working now?"
"Oh," she pushed a piece of hair behind her ear and remembered to keep a smile on her face. Meeting Danny's family had never been an issue, and she found herself briefly wishing that it hadn't been an issue with Michael either. "I'm not working at the moment, but I would like to be a literature professor."
"Do you plan on returning to work this fall?" Charlotte asked. Sydney glanced over at Michael, waiting for him to speak.
"Syd's going to take the next school year off, be a stay at home Mom to Jackie," he explained.
"It was very smart of you to put some money aside so you could take time off with Jackie," his sister noted as Sydney looked nervously at her lap.
"Actually, Char, Sydney and I are going to get married. Next month, actually."
"Really?" Charlotte asked as Michael nodded. "Congratulations!" She cried as she grabbed her husband's hand and stood up. Walking around the coffee table Charlotte and Patrick hugged the other couple. "Obviously this is sudden for the rest of us, but congratulations, I'm sure you'll be very happy together," she commented as they sat back down. "So what type of wedding did you have in mind?"
"Something small," Sydney smiled.
"Before we leave I want to show Sydney the terrace, I think it'll be a perfect location for a ceremony," Mike spoke up.
"If you want it, you two are welcome to use it," Brigitte said softly. Throughout the short dialect she found herself carefully studying Sydney, wondering what sort of resemblance she bore to the woman who had torn William from her. There was something in Michael's face, however, a gentle undercurrent to how he held her hand and smiled at their daughter that she found herself wanting to believe that this woman was who her son felt she was. "What about your family?"
"My Mother . . Left when I was six," she carefully worded. "Until recently my relationship with my Father was . . .Nonexistent. I have good friends, Will and Francie; I've known them since college. Francie's married to Charlie and Will's seeing a girl named Jenny. They're my family."
"Does your Father know of your . . Intentions to marry my son?"
"Yes," Sydney nodded.
"I've known Jack for a few years," Michael admitted, not backing down when Brigitte sent him another disapproving gaze.
"He was . . . Not surprised when I told him the news," she explained.
"That's nice," Charlotte spoke up, trying to ease along the conversation. "You said your relationship was nonexistent until recently. That's changed?"
"Slowly," Sydney agreed. "I can talk to him now, and he's a wonderful grandfather for Jackie, which is more then I expected," she smiled.
"Do you plan on selling your apartment Michel, and moving in with Sydney?" Brigitte questioned.
"We haven't worked out the details yet," he admitted. "I've brought Donnie over to her place though, and it's where I'm spending most of my time," he confessed.
Suddenly Jackie's cries broke through the awkward conversation. Looking over at the girl who would soon be her niece, Sydney tried not to laugh at the panicked expression on Maya's face. "It's okay, she's just hungry," Sydney assured the little girl as she took back her daughter.
"I'll go warm up the bottle," Mike grabbed a bottle out of the diaper bag and began to stand.
"I'll do it," Brigitte stood. After he handed her the bottle, her son smiled at her, realizing that it was her first step in accepting the way things now were.
"Michel . . . . It's going to take her some time," Charlotte whispered after their Mother had walked out of the room. Turning towards Sydney, she smiled at the family newcomer and at the infant she was attempting to calm. "Motherhood's a tricky thing, isn't it?" She asked as Sydney laughed.
"Actually I'm really enjoying it," she confessed, her voice raised to be heard over her daughter's cries.
"When was she born?" Patrick asked.
"April 11th," Michael answered. "She was eight pounds and twenty inches," he added proudly.
"How big is she now?" Charlotte questioned, internally relieved that her own son hadn't been disturbed.
"She was a little under nine pounds at her last appointment," he explained.
"She looks a lot like both of you," Patrick noted as they thanked him.
Brigitte walked back into the room seconds later, carrying the warm bottle. As she approached Sydney she kept the bottle to herself and smiled down at the younger woman. "Would you mind if I fed her?"
Glancing briefly at Michael she looked back at Brigitte and shook her head. "No, of course not," she agreed as she stood and gently placed her daughter in her Grandmother's arms. The room was quiet as Brigitte sat carefully down in a plush wing chair, her eyes on the baby as she adjusted the infant in her arms and started to feed her.
"What are you calling her?" Brigitte asked softly as she balanced the baby in her arms.
"We've been calling her Jackie," Sydney explained. "I named her after Michael and my Father."
"It's a beautiful name," the Vaughn matriarch cooed down to the infant in her arms. "Is she always such a champion eater?"
"Usually," Sydney laughed.
Looking up at her son and future daughter in law, Brigitte silently watched the way they held hands and the silent glances they shared when no one thought they were looking. They were striking couple and when they were together it was impossible to deny what they shared. How her son's superiors at the CIA had remained oblivious for so long was a mystery to her. Together they had found the rare gift that she had shared with her William; a gift that she had always wanted her children to find. Perhaps her Michel had not found discovered it in the type of woman that she had imagined, but he had discovered it. At the heart of the matter, that's all that mattered.
"You two have been very blessed," she said softly as Sydney and Michael shared soft smiles and thanked her. "How about a tour?" She suggested as they all stood and she allowed her daughter to lead a tour through the expansive home.
Sydney Bristow was, on all accounts, a perfect guest and Jackie was as well behaved as one infant could be. Maya loved her new baby cousin, and asked her Uncle on multiple occasions if she could come over and dress her up some time. The little girl even sat on the study floor after dinner, watching her brother and new cousin as they slept in a portable playpen. Then once she grew bored with that she climbed up onto her Uncle's lap and listened as her Uncle and Father debated the Mets play off chances.
After the sun went down Brigitte walked out onto the terrace to find Sydney standing there. The younger woman was looking out how the dusky sky painted over the beautiful view of the ocean. Looking at the beach Sydney had realized that months earlier Michael had taken her there to help pay her final respects to her Mother. Regardless of his own feelings towards Irina Derevko he had once again put them aside. Instead he had offered her a private sanctuary where she could say the goodbye and find the peace she had desperately needed. Her discovery was just another thing she had to add to the many reasons why she loved him.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Brigitte asked as the other woman whipped around, startled.
"Yes," she smiled. "It is."
"Would you like some tea?" She offered as she set down a tray with a pot of warm tea and a few mugs.
"That'd be nice," she agreed as she sat down and took the mug Brigitte offered her.
Looking at the younger woman, Brigitte saw a spark of herself in her younger years. A quick estimate helped her decide that Sydney Bristow was, at the most, in her early thirties. By that age, Brigitte was a widow while Sydney was just ready to begin her marriage. The look in Sydney's brown eyes, however, reminded her of her own reflection in the days of her engagement to William. A certain spark that no amount of acting or false enthusiasm could produce.
Taking a sip of her tea, Brigitte set her mug down on the table and looked at the young woman. "Your Mother caused our family a great deal of pain."
The look Sydney gave her was enough to break a thousand hearts. Her sons earlier words rung true in her heart; the young woman in front of her would have traded in nearly anything to correct her Mother's wrongs. "Brigitte, I can't -"
"You can't Sydney," she stopped her. "You can not be expected to bear the weight of your Mother's sins. Just as no one except Michael ever expected him to bear his Father's responsibilities to this country. I would be lying if I said that I'm disappointed and hurt by my son's non-disclosure of his life with you, of his unwillingness to share Jacqueline's arrival . . . Perhaps a little bit of disappointment in your lack of honesty at our chance encounter," she said softly as Sydney looked down at her hands. "The truth is my son loves you a great deal. Perhaps more then any woman deserves to be loved. I would know - my William loved me just that way," she remembered as Sydney smiled. "In one respect you are luckier then I ever was," she explained.
"How so?" Sydney asked softly.
"One of William's faults was that the one thing he loved more then me was this country. I don't believe that's the case with Michel. He'd betray this country before he'd ever let anyone go near you."
Sydney looked down at her tea and brushed hair out of her face, "that's not how it should be," she whispered.
"Perhaps not for two CIA operatives, but it is how it should be with a man and a woman," Brigitte calmly corrected. "I don't want us to get off on a bad foot Sydney, although Michel informed me that you're fluent in French so I suppose we already have," she smiled as the younger girl laughed and nodded. "I was starting to believe my Michel would never get married, and I told my daughter just the other day that he was determined to make sure I never see the Vaughn name carried on. That's obviously not the case. Instead he was waiting for you, and waiting until it was safe for you. As disappointed as I am in his . . . Deceit, I am proud of how loyal he is to you, and I appreciate his need for secrecy."
"Mike never wanted to hurt you," Sydney explained as the elder woman nodded.
"I know," she assured her. "As difficult as it was for us after my William died, I suspect it must have been even more difficult for you. You lived your life believing your Mother was this wonderful woman who died . . Then you learned that everything you believed in was a lie. I am sincerely sorry you had to experience that. For what it's worth, I'm sure you as a Mother know that regardless of the circumstances around a child's conception, once your a Mother you can't stop loving that child. I'm sure that there must have been something good in your Mother, just as there's something good in everyone, and a large part of who she was as a good person had to do with you."
"Thank you," she whispered as Brigitte smiled.
"Perhaps, next weekend, if you and my son aren't busy, you could come again. Perhaps bring your family this time? Your friends, Will and Francie, are of course invited to come. That way we could all get to know one another before the wedding."
"I'll speak to my Dad about it," she smiled gratefully.
"This place will be a beautiful place for a wedding," Brigitte noted as Sydney's smile widened.
"You don't mind us using the terrace?"
"No, I'd be insulted if you didn't," she insisted as Sydney smiled. "Your welcome to use the house for the reception as well."
"Francie owns a restaurant, I was hoping to have the reception there."
"That sounds wonderful," she smiled warmly.
Looking out towards the sky, Brigitte took a sip of her tea. Obviously deep in contemplation, she looked over at Sydney and sighed. "I don't suppose I know how to say this any other way."
"What's that?"
"Welcome to the family."
Next Chapter: Vaughn returns to work . . Did Jenny say yes? . . . . Oh, and the King of Evil makes a guest appearance! Please R & R! Last chapter didn't do as well as I was hoping, so maybe this one will do better! Even if you hate it (okay, don't flame me without a good reason; CONSTRUCTIVE criticism) please tell me!