Title: The Lightkeeper
Author: UConn Fan (Michele)
E-Mail: LoveUConnBasketball@yahoo.com
Story Summary: Sydney's been gone for two years, and Vaughn is married to Alice. What happens when Sydney returns and is forced to accept the new changes that await her in Los Angeles.
Disclaimer: Don't own Sydney or Vaughn (don't I wish I did?! Who doesn't?!) or Will or Francie, Jack, Irina, Amy, Danny Eric, Alice (does anyone actually want to claim her?) or Amy. I do own Sarah and Miss Harper, but go ahead and use them if you feel the need. Don't own the Yankees or Mets or LA Kings. No affiliation with George Steinbrenner or Robin Ventura or Derek Jeter (oh, can I have him *and* Vaughn?! Oh and don't forget Mike-the-UConn-benchwarmer!). Let's be real here, I don't own anyone. I'm having fun. If JJ wants to offer me a job, go head! I'd move to California! Don't sue me though, all you'll get is a lot of UConn, Yankees & Alias/X-files stuff that probably means very little to anyone but me. Oh, and lots of video tapes and books.
A/N: UConn Men are no longer ranked sob - keep your fingers crossed they win tonight; Steinbrenner is not a nice man (who says mean things about my Derek?!! One day he'll be captain pretty pretty please); Spring Training has begun :) ; Trying Normal (my god you guys are persistant, seriously) was worked on *today* and should hopefully have a chapter up by the end of the week (IF I don't go away to Vermont tomorrow afternoon, in which case it'll be up next week; Vermont's still in the air, so I'm not sure); I love my Father but the man can infuriate me like no other on earth; There are reference to the Yankees & Mets here, they're not mandatory to understand, but amusing if you get them; I've never lost a child (I've never *kissed* a guy) and I did my best to handle the situation appropriately & how I thought the characters would. Alice is not meant to be the devil here, no one is, but I needed a reason for him to feel as though he was obligated to stay when his marriage was clearly in the toilet but at the same time I needed to feel comfortable when/if the time comes (I haven't written it yet so I don't know) to take him away from Alice and that was the only way to do it.
**PLEASE** Read & Respond! Even if you hate it, please be constructive and tell me where I went wrong!
Dedication: To Lainie. Thank you for your super-sweet words & encouragement!
"Hey!" Sydney called out the following morning. Hesitantly she walked into the house she used to share with Francie, now the home Will and Francie shared. "Hello? Is anyone here?"
"Why am I wearing heels?" Francie asked, walking into the room in obvious discomfort. Sydney laughed when she noticed Francie was walking around in the shoes she intended to be married in. "This isn't funny Syd! Everyone keeps saying that I should break the shoes in, but my feet are *killing* me!"
"I think the point is to break them in now so they don't kill you then," she suggested as she sat down on the sofa. "Where's Will?"
"He's at work. You know the only good thing about this job at the travel magazine is that we were able to get a really good deal on our honeymoon," she sighed as she pulled out a binder and sat down next to her friend.
"Where are you going?"
"France," she smiled widely. "I've never been and it's going to be *so* romantic."
Sydney smiled and nodded, remembering that the most romantic night of her life had taken place in France. Nice, to be exact, although she certainly hoped Will and Francie's evenings would end far more peacefully. "You're going to have a great time," she assured her.
"I need your help so much though!" She sighed. "See, I still have to finalize seating arrangements," she showed as she flipped through the thick binder. "I need to pack . . . Will you help me practice my make up?" She asked as her friend nodded. "Hey, do you have a car because then you could pick up the cake for me!"
"Sure, I'll pick up the cake," she smiled in agreement. "Your doing fine, everything is going to go wonderfully," she promised her friend.
"I really don't know how I'd go through these last days without you Syd, I'm so glad your home."
Leaning over to hug her friend, she nodded in agreement, "so am I."
Francie certainly kept her busy in the days to come. They spent hours going over seating arrangements, placing it so members of Will's family sat with members of her family that they got along with. Together they went over Francie's make up half a dozen times, including a few failed attempts to mix colors and different shades on her best friends skin. Sydney was the one who made sure all of Francie's plans - including the honeymoon and her pre-wedding hairdressers appointment. As the week progressed they picked up the wedding dress, confirming plans with Francie's other attendants, and on Thursday, two days before the big day, Sydney picked up the wedding cake and delivered it to Francie's restaurant for safekeeping.
Late Friday morning Will hurried to answer the door. He was busy packing his duffel bag, since his fiancée had insisted that they spend the night before their wedding apart. Pulling the door open, he smiled when he saw Sydney waiting there. "Hey Syd," he greeted her with a hug.
"Hey, is Francie ready to go?" She asked, stepping inside the warm home. They were going to the hairdresser together, meeting Amy and Sarah, Francie's restaurant manager, who had promised to be there when they arrived.
"I'm ready," Francie replied, smiling as she slung her jacket on and walked into the living room. Walking over to her fiancé, she smiled and kissed him, "I'm going to miss you."
"I'm going to miss you too," he whispered as Sydney laughed and rolled her eyes.
"You two will see each other in," she paused to glance at her watch. "Approximately six hours at the rehearsal!"
Will shrugged and looked back at Francie, "love you," he whispered as they kissed one more time.
"Okay, okay! I'm coming, let's go!" Francie agreed, laughing as the two girls walked out of the house.
Sydney met Sarah that afternoon and instantly felt comfortable around her. The four women sat discussing weddings, work and life in general as they flipped through magazines and had their hair done. Francie was having the hairdresser come to the house the following day to do the finishing touches, but the four had fun nonetheless. Sydney hadn't seen Amy in years and listened to her complain about men, school and being a single woman in Los Angeles, something she knew more then a little bit about herself.
That afternoon Michael finished tying his shoes and looked up as he heard the door to the bathroom opening. Alice slid out, still dressed in her previous nights bedclothes, scrutinizing him as he stood and slid on his jacket. "I promised Will I'd be at the church in a half hour. Do you want me to pick you up after the rehearsal and you can come to the dinner?" He offered. The truth was he would just as well prefer that Alice not attend the evening's festivities.
"No thank you," she muttered as she slid back onto the bed and turned on the bedroom's television. "Have fun," she muttered as he stiffly kissed her cheek. Silently he grabbed his keys and walked out of the house, patting Donovan's head as he passed and disgusted at the relief he felt to be out of her presence.
They were holding the wedding at a nondenominational church in the exclusive section of Los Angeles. Michael pushed the door open and stepped inside just as Francie was on the verge of realizing her entire wedding party was *not* present. Reading the look of panic on both Will and Sydney's faces, he was glad he hadn't waited another moment to leave the house. "Hey," Francie smiled and walked over to him. "I'm so glad your here!" She hugged him.
"I'm sorry if I'm late," he apologized, shaking his head. Then he allowed his eyes to briefly linger on Sydney as she stood in the front of the church, quietly talking to the minister.
"Your not late! C'mon, you have to meet Sydney!" Francie eagerly took his hand and lead him to the front of the church. Will stayed a few steps back, using his keen journalists eye to watch the scene unfold. Somehow, despite his logic, he doubted it was the first time they would have seen each other since her arrival. Knowing them as well as he did, he found it difficult to believe they could have stayed away from one another for so long.
Michael remained silent as Francie dropped his hand and tapped her best friend's shoulder, drawing her attention from the minister. All he could do was politely smile and nod at Amy and Sarah, both whom he had seen at various social gatherings that Will and Francie had thrown. Bracing himself he turned and met Sydney's eyes, unable to stop the smile from his face.
"Michael Vaughn, this is my best friend and maid of honor, Sydney Bristow. Syd, this is Will's best man," she explained before looking back at the tall man. "Syd's been in the Peace Corp the last couple of years. She's been teaching in Armenia!" She glowed in pride at her best friends accomplishments.
"That's fabulous," he smiled and shook her hand, silently thrilled to see the giddy look cross her features. "It's nice to meet you."
"It's great to meet you too," she commented, her smile growing even wider. Will stood back and shook his head, wondering what they had once again stumbled upon as Francie glowed. She had been right - they *were* perfect for each other, she silently awed.
"We should get this started," Will spoke up while taking the opportunity to break the moment. There was no one who wanted Sydney happy more then him, but Michael was still a married man and *someone* had to remind them of that fact.
The rehearsal went as smoothly as one could imagine. Over the rehearsal Sydney was relieved to watch Francie grow more and more comfortable with the next days events. That's when she wasn't doing her best to avoid looking into Vaughn's eyes, or even in his direction. In her mind she reasoned that she'd be meeting his wife in a few scant hours and it was best to sidestep the feelings she had so she could act pleasantly to Alice. She had done it once, and she would do it again.
Will's family had rented out a beautiful historic mansion in the same Los Angeles neighborhood as the church for the reception. Sydney sat back and enjoyed watching Francie and Will's families intermingling. She could see how relieved her best friends were - their parents got along well, but not *too* well. The restaurant had done a fabulous job of catering the small reception, and Sydney enjoyed the food and conversation. That evening she was able to catch up with Amy but also Eric Weiss, who was one of Will's groomsmen and someone she hadn't seen since she left for Armenia. Later on Sydney even found herself talking to Mrs. Calfo about wedding dresses and her experiences over the past two years.
Stars were already shining brightly over Los Angeles when she slipped out of the reception hall onto a small terrace overlooking a garden. Sitting down she was grateful to be out of the warm, busy room and by herself with her thoughts for a while. Avoiding Vaughn had been her prime objective for the evening, and it was turning out to be far more difficult then she imagined. Not once that evening had she looked at him, quite a feat when you recalled that he was the best man and she was the maid of honor. If he was there with Alice, which she fully suspected was the case, she would just assume avoid introductions. After several years she doubted Alice would still remember her as Rita from the State Department, but aside from worries about national security she knew she wanted to avoid seeing the one thing in life she wanted but would never have.
Sinking farther back into the comfortable lounge chaise, she let her mind wander back over the past few days. With Francie and Will leaving on their honeymoon, she knew that she'd have time to spend with her Mother and to hit the Los Angeles pavement looking for employment. Surely her Mother would allow her to stay for as long as she wished, since their time together had been enjoyable for both, but she knew she needed a job and even wanted one. There'd still be time to spend with her a Mother. Despite all the anger and bitter feelings that had swarmed her soul after Irina Derevko turned herself into the CIA, she now looked forward to being with her Mother, doing things regular Mothers and Daughters did. Perhaps her Father would even come over for Sunday dinner.
"You forgot this," a familiar male voice pointed out. Looking over her shoulder she was surprised to find Vaughn standing there, holding her wine glass out to her. Sydney wondered where her formerly finely tuned espionage skills had gone since she hadn't even heard the terrace door open and shut.
"Thank you," she smiled and took it from him as he sat down in the only other chaise lounge on the terrace. Running her finger over the edge of the wine glass, her smile faded away. Looking over the gardens, she tried to decipher which flowers had been planted there while she felt his eyes on her face. Daring to look back at him, she rounded up the courage to do what had been nagging her mind since she had seen him again in the CIA building. Somehow she could battle a man twice her size without flinching, but having a heart to heart with Michael Vaughn had the power to terrify her.
"I've wanted to tell you how sorry I am," she said in a low voice, grateful that he couldn't clearly meet her eyes in the darkness. "My Father . . . . He told me about Henry when I was in Armenia . . . . I just wanted you to know how sorry I am. I know it's been seven months, but if there's anything I can do, for you or Alice . . . Well, I'm here," she trailed off awkwardly.
Vaughn swallowed back his tears and wasn't surprised to hear that Jack had told her about his son. Henry Charles Vaughn, named after both his and Alice's late Fathers, had been born far too early and lived for only a few short hours. Alice's pregnancy had been difficult from the get go, whether because she was over thirty five or because of India's less then stellar medical care no one could be certain. Henry was going to be their new start, he had felt that their son's birth could help their marriage, but it was a futile thought. He was too early, too sick and lived less then one day in October. It was the worst day of his life. Not only did he lose his son, but he had also lost the woman he had thought he married.
Even in the darkness she could see the dampness in his eyes. Searching for her voice she finally spoke, "are you alright?"
The question bought a smile to his lips, baffling her. He could vividly remember the first time he met her. The accusatory look in her eyes - anyone and everyone could have been out to get her, and for a while everyone seemingly was. The stupidest thing he remembered asking was if she was all right, and the slight grimace that followed. When they had met the very last thing Sydney Bristow had been was all right, and now he was the one who was furthest from all right as anyone one person could be.
"I will be," he assured her as best he could. His companion nodded. Of all the people on earth she would best understand that the one thing that was best for healing was the passage of time. "I wanted to ask you how you were doing," he turned the tables on her. He'd always been more comfortable in his role as her protector instead of the other way around. At the question in his eye he continued, "with your parents?"
"It's going pretty good," she smiled and shrugged, taking a sip from her glass. "It's still weird," she confessed as they laughed. "You were right though. We're never going to be normal . . . Whatever that means," she looked down at her wine glass and sighed.
"Are you okay with that? With things never being quite as you imagined?"
"I think so," she smiled and met his eyes again. "I have my life back. I even have my family back, which is more then I expected. Will and Francie are together and happy . . . I've been thinking about what you said, and I do belong here, and I'm even sort of lucky," her dimples flared as he nodded. "That must sound ridiculous," she laughed self-consciously.
"No, it makes sense."
"Really?" She laughed, feeling better when he nodded. Seconds later she grew more serious and looked back at her wine glass. With another quick glance up at the stars, she allowed her eyes to drift back to him. Even with the light aging he had undergone since her departure, how she noticed that the laugh lines around his eyes had obviously gone through more use, along with his frown lines. Regardless of his aging, he was still beautiful and had the most amazing eyes she'd ever seen. "Where's Alice?"
The question changed the air on the terrace, causing him to look down at his own glass, searching for courage. "She's not here," he explained. "I don't know if Francie mentioned it but . . . They really don't get along," he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and kept his eyes firmly planted to the ground. "Even if they did, I'm not sure she'd want to spend an evening out with me," his forced laughter sent a chill down her spine.
Vaughn's self-deprecating comment left her briefly speechless. "Francie really seems to like you."
"Yeah," he smiled. "She's a great person," he finally met her eyes as she nodded.
"Did you know Will and Francie are going to France for their honeymoon?"
"I did," he chuckled at her surprised expression. "They're going to stay at my Aunt and Uncle's place . . . It's not exactly the Ritz, but it's in a nice part of the country and they'll have all the privacy they could want. Plus my Aunt promised to stock up the kitchen before they left."
"Aunt Trish's house?" She grinned as the surprised expression transferred to his face. He had mentioned his Aunt Trish only once, off-handedly, years ago. Nevertheless, Sydney remembered, just as he recalled every conversation they had and every little nugget of her life that she shared with him.
"Aunt Trish's house," he nodded as she laughed. "Her only stipulation was that if Francie and Will spot any UFO's they have to take pictures for her, since it's supposedly peak time for UFO sightings," he eyebrows rose as they both laughed.
"I thought your Aunt was more interested crop circles?" She asked as he laughed.
"Oh, she's still interested crop circles, but someone in the nearest town claimed to have saw a UFO about a year ago and now my Aunt's hell-bent on seeing one too. She doesn't like to be outdone, especially when it comes to the paranormal."
Sydney laughed and tried to imagine what his Aunt Trish must be like. "She sounds wonderful."
"She is," he agreed before tearing his eyes away from her, afraid to look at her for too long. "In her own unique way, she is wonderful."
Vaughn sat back in his seat and tried to imagine Sydney meeting his only Aunt. Somehow he could even imagine them getting along. Sydney would appreciate his Aunt, even with her passion for Wicca and the calendar of Witchcraft she kept on her desk. Trish would enjoy Sydney's company, glad that her nephew had finally strayed away from his usual taste in petite blondes. Although Trish was a petite blonde herself, she had warned Michael away from them for years, but to no avail. One quality he had inherited in vengeance from the Delorme side of his family was stubbornness.
In contrast Alice hated Trish and Trish wasn't all that keen on Alice. One quality his Aunt and Mother shared was that they could both make you believe they liked you while in fact they despised you. It was that skill that led Alice to believe that Trish loved her even though in private all his wife could say were not-so-kind word about his eccentric Aunt. Trish had her faults, but he loved her and thought Alice would step up her effort to get along with his Aunt once they married, but so far no such effort had been made.
"Where will your Aunt and Uncle be for Francie and Will's honeymoon?"
"Paris. They go once or twice a year, and decided that May was as good of a time as any," he shrugged.
"They'll all have a great time," Sydney commented.
They remained in comfortable silence for a while, watching the sky darken and the stars brighten, both unwilling to acknowledge the occasional passing glance in the others direction. When he leaned forward in his seat, he instantly drew her attention. "Do you plan on staying?" He met her eyes and asked softly. "Here? In LA?"
The painful truth was he wasn't sure how emotionally involved he could become if she had no intention of staying. Perhaps she had plans to rejoin the Peace Corps, or for all he knew she could so something bizarre like move to Connecticut or Maine to a life far removed from Los Angeles. The last thing he wanted was for her to leave again. Now that she was back he wanted to be in her life, regardless of how small a role she might cast him in.
"Maybe not Los Angeles, my Mom found some listings in Sherman Oaks that look promising," she informed him as he let out a silent sigh of relief. "Know anyone looking to sell an apartment?" She teased.
"I'll keep my ears open," he promised warmly.
"How's Donovan?"
A smile crossed his face at the mention at one of the few good things in his life. Donovan his overweight, far too intelligent and extremely loyal four-legged pal. "A few months ago I brought him to the vet and the vet very seriously sat him down and said 'Donovan, you need to lose a pound or two or else your going to exceed your weight limit', so I went out and I bought every expensive diet dog food and vitamin in the LA metro area," he explained, one eyebrow rose and a half smile on his face as he wove his story. "Now I'm watching him every day and we still go jogging together but I don't think Donovan knows how to lose weight, I don't think he had the necessary metabolism. Last week we went to get his booster shots - I swear the vet costs me more then my monthly car payment," he rolled his eyes as she laughed. "Anyway, they put him on the scale and not only has he not *lost* any weight, he's actually ten pounds heavier then he was at the last appointment."
"Poor Donovan," Sydney managed to squeak out in the midst of her laughter. "I guess you just can't teach an old dog new tricks," she shrugged.
Vaughn shook his head and chuckled, "tell me about it. He's a great dog though."
"I've been thinking about getting a dog," she confessed and took a sip of her wine.
"Really?" There was surprise evident on his features.
"Really," she laughed and nodded. "It can't be until after I live on my own though. My Mom's not too keen on dogs, she's more of a cat person."
"Somehow," he muttered with a raised eyebrow, "that doesn't surprise me."
"There is something uniquely cat-like about my Mother, isn't there?" She realized as he nodded. "What am I talking about, getting an apartment and a dog . . . I don't even have a job," she shook her head and sighed. "I'm getting ahead of myself."
"You'll get a job," he quickly assured her.
"I've decided I want to teach high school," she confessed. "For the entire duration of graduate school I thought I wanted to be a university professor . . . Just like I thought my Mom was," she said softly as he nodded. "Now though . . . I can do more in a high school, I can reach more kids and do more then just give lectures and grade essays. I can *help* people. By college you either love literature or you hate it," she shrugged, "but in high school I can get them and help them love it."
"Private or public?"
"I don't care," she smiled with deep dimples. "I just want to teach."
"I can barely remember two of my college professors but I remember any high school teacher I ever had - substitutes included."
"No you don't," she teased as he nodded.
"Oh yeah, especially the pretty ones," he cast her a long glance before looking down at his wine. "I even wanted to marry one teacher my sophomore year."
"Oh no," she laughed as she waited for him to continue.
"She was my sophomore typing teacher. Physically I thought she was attractive although she wasn't my type. Everyone loved her, the entire student body. She was only twenty four and at fifteen I didn't think that was an insurmountable gap," he chuckled. "We became friends. I probably could have learned how to type with my eyes closed in two weeks but I was determined *not* to learn so I could go after school for extra credit. She was a huge Mets fan and we would hang out and watch golf on television or baseball games. Of course there were other students in the room, but I didn't care," he shook his head at the memory. "You know I still e-mail her once in awhile, and my sister still threatens to tell her that she was the first woman I ever thought I loved."
"So what became of this fabulous teacher?"
"Same old story," he sighed fondly. "My freshman year of college she married the man she'd been dating since before she ever met me. She actually sent me pictures; they were the first things in my mailbox when I came back from Key West with a hangover. Needless to say I learned then to never open my mail hung over," he laughed. "Eventually I bounced back," he sighed as he remembered the woman he had met short months after receiving those pictures and subsequently married years later.
At two pivotal times in his life Alice had been his rebound. Of course he'd never actually *had* Miss Harper, but in his mind they'd already been married with children. Deep in his mind he knew not only did he deserve better, but so did the young blonde who'd brought him back to his former taste in petite blondes, never mind that Miss Harper had been a tall brunette.
"I was actually thinking about becoming a Coach too," she spoke up. "You know, maybe I could Coach cross country or track, I have plenty of experience," she smiled.
"You could start a kickboxing club," he suggested as she laughed.
"I don't want to have to explain that to a future employer."
"Thought about the world of international banking?" He joked as a look of mock terror crossed her face.
"*Never*! Any actual aspirations I had dealing with finance are long over!" She shook her head before growing serious. "So, will Alice be going with you tomorrow?" She questioned, instantly kicking herself for bringing up his wife. Neither one of them wanted to talk about it, but the martyr in her wouldn't let it rest.
"I don't know," he looked away from her. The mere mention of Alice and he was unable to meet her eyes. "I don't think so, but I'm not sure."
"Tomorrow should be wonderful though," she smiled as he nodded. Laughing she continued, "I still can't believe Will and Francie are getting married."
"No one will tell me, what's the dress like?"
"No," she shook her head with an impish grin. "A maid of honor never tells. I do promise that she'll look beautiful, Will has no reason to worry."
"I think he's more worried about forgetting his vows then not approving of the dress," he chuckled. "Have you started sending out resumes for jobs?"
"I just finished writing up my resume. Dad said I could come in next week and use his fax machine to send them," she shrugged as he made a mental note that she'd be in the building the next week.
"The Kings have been horrible since you left," he muttered, as if the Kings misery had some correlation to her departure. In his mind they did, both caused him to be miserable.
"Really?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "They're not deep, and their main scorers keep getting banged up," he shook his head in digest. "It's really become painful to watch and it's embarrassing to admit being a fan."
"All good teams have down years."
"Even the Yankees?"
Moving her eyes to her wine glass her dimples once again flared as she nodded. "Yes, even the Yankees."
"Do you realize the Mets have taken twelve of their last eighteen meetings?"
"I was wondering when you were going to bring that up."
"Jeter's overrated."
"Look what happened to Ventura when he came over from Shea!" She protested before laughing at their absurd conversation, the levity at which they could talk and the wonder that they had something to talk about outside of international espionage and national security.
"When we win our World Series - and we *will* - it will be because we *earned* it not because Steinbrenner bought it."
"We win ours too, it's not like he goes out and *buys* the World Series, they play!" She weakly pointed out.
"That's a poor argument Syd," he chuckled.
Before she could present a stronger case the terrace door slid open and Eric Weiss walked out. "Hey guys," he greeted, having caught up with Sydney earlier in the evening. "Sydney, Francie's getting ready to go and wants to know if you plan on going with her."
"Yes, of course," she stood and looked at the men. "I'll see you both tomorrow."
"We'll be there," Eric playfully shot back as Michael nodded.
Although it was late when Sydney walked into her Mother's front door, she wasn't surprised to see Irina waiting up in the living room, attempting to look engrossed in another thick novel. Irina looked up, as her daughter walked in and smiled at her, "how was the rehearsal?"
"It was fine," she smiled and sat down next to her Mother with a sigh. Setting her book down on the table she turned to face her daughter.
"How's your friend holding up? Her name's Francie, right?" She questioned, placing a gentle hand on her daughter's knee.
"Yes, Francie," she smiled and nodded. "She's doing fine. I'm supposed to be at the house at seven tomorrow to help her get ready," she explained. Leaning down she kicked off her shoes and scooted off of the coach.
"Who else is in the wedding party?"
"Well Sarah and Amy are going to be the maids of honor." As she spoke she grabbed a throw pillow and lay on the floor, resting her elbows and forearms on the pillow. "Sarah is the manager of Francie's restaurant and Amy's Will's sister."
Irina nodded and bent over to brush hair off of her daughter's face. "The best man and groomsmen?" She asked and sat back comfortably.
"Eric and Kevin are going to be his groomsmen. He works with Eric and then he's known Kevin since grade school."
"And the best man?"
Sighing she looked down at her hands and conceded something she suspected Irina knew all along. "Vaughn's his best man."
"Interesting turn of events," she noted. "There was a time and place where I believed that Mr. Tippin was in love with you, and here he is best friends with his former rival."
"Will and Vaughn were never rivals," Sydney dismissed the thought. Had they ever considered one another rivals? That was a question she'd never be able to ask. In her heart, however, there had never been any question. "I love him," she sighed, resting her chin on her folded hands. Glancing up at her Mother, she was surprised at the look of calm acceptance on Irina's face. She had nothing left to lose telling her Mother; if the CIA was listening, so be it. She fully suspected Irina's phone was tapped, so they already knew she'd been in contact with him. Sydney was no longer an employee of the CIA, and it wasn't as though she was going to act upon her feelings. "There's a very real chance I will never be with him . . . . I don't know if I can be with anyone else though."
"You moved on after Danny," her Mother gently reminded her.
Regaining her posture, she sat up and pushed hair behind her ear with a nod. "I did . . . I know I'm still young, but what I shared with Vaughn . . . Even what I didn't share with Vaughn," she whispered before returning to her regular voice. "It was so much more then I had with Danny. For the longest time I thought that maybe that was wrong . . . That I shouldn't have found something more special then what I had with Danny, but I did. Vaughn knows . . *Knew*," she regretfully corrected herself. "Every part of my life, he was there with me for some of the lowest points of my life . . . There's never going to be another man in my life like him."
"There's no rule saying you can never have him," Irina smiled serenely.
"Mom, he's married."
"So?" She shrugged, her hair bouncing as she did so. "He'll get divorced."
"Vaughn's not like that . . Not after everything he and Alice have been through. He's not going to leave her."
"Yes, your right, Mr. Vaughn is an honorable man. "When it comes to love, however, even the mightiest have been known to fall."
"I don't want to ruin his marriage, I want him to be happy."
"Then don't ruin his marriage, but if you love him like you say you do, don't you dare give up your space in his life."
"I get the impression that that's going to cause complications with Alice."
"As long as Vaughn wants you in his life, then let Alice deal with her complications," Irina insisted.
"Are you sure that's the right thing to do?" She asked. Deep inside her mind she was wondering if she had lost her mind; two years before she never would have been sitting in her *Mothers* living room asking for love advice. However with a less then a day until Francie and Will's wedding, she had very little choice but turn to the woman she so desperately sought a real relationship with.
"Honestly?" She questioned softly as her daughter nodded. "No, Sydney, I'm not sure it's the right thing to do. I can tell you, however, if you walk away from his life without holding on to what you can have, you will regret it the rest of your life. You've gone through too much to add another regret to your list."
"You know," she started, pausing to take a sip of the water her Mother had been drinking. "I actually thought my life would be easier once SD-6 was gone."
"Well isn't it?"
"Not really," she shrugged. "I had built up this fantasy of how my life would be after SD-6 that I completely ignored anything that went against my fantasy."
Laying back down she once again rested her head on her chin. Once she was comfortable she gazed at her Mother and sighed. "I don't even know if he loves me."
"Oh, Sydney," she sighed with a wistful smile.
"He never said anything -" she softly protested.
"He never needed to," Irina laughed as Sydney sat up straight. "Sweetheart it was obvious to me from the moment I met him that he loved you. That he was *in* love with you and had been for a long time. Some things . . . Some things don't *need* to be said, they're just implied. Love is one of those things," she smiled and shrugged.
"I used to believe that maybe . . . . . He married Alice."
"The road to hell is paved with good intentions," she reminded her only to be met by Sydney's perplexed look. "Sweetheart, I haven't seen Agent Vaughn in several years . . . However, if I was forced to evaluate his actions, I'd have to say that they all lead back to you," she sat down across from her daughter and smiled. "You left Sydney. Both you and Agent Vaughn knew it was best, that you needed to give back for what you thought you had taken away. As trained professionals you both knew that it was best for your safety, but you still left. Men are foolish, and if Agent Vaughn has any flaws it's that he *is* a man. Not all, but many, believe that it's best to move past your feelings for someone instead of working through them. Alice was there. They had a history, one with far less pain and bumps in the road that what you two have. He's clearly miserable Sydney, and he's obviously been in love with you for years."
Laughing she shook her head and looked at her Mother. "You should have been a relationship counselor Mom."
"Maybe," Irina shrugged with a smile. "Maybe I just know my daughter."
That comment rendered her speechless for a few moments. Contradictory thoughts and notions floated through her mind, nearly making her dizzy. Finally breaking the comfortable silence she looked up at her Mother and broke it with her quiet words. "What do I do now?"
"Tomorrow morning you'll get up and go help your best friend prepare for making the biggest commitment of her life. You'll have fun because tomorrow your two best friends are getting married, and that's not something so wonderful that many people get to experience. Enjoy tomorrow Sydney, and don't avoid Agent Vaughn," she advised.
"How did you -" she started to ask, rendered speechless and wondering how her Mother knew her tactic for the evening.
"Don't avoid him Sydney, you'll only push him further away."
"How can I be sure he even wants to see me?"
"He always wants to see you," Irina corrected. "Just talk to him Sydney."
"What if Alice is there tomorrow?"
"She wasn't there tonight?"
"No," she looked down at her hands. "Alice and Francie don't get along that well."
"If she didn't make an appearance at the rehearsal I doubt she'll make one at the wedding. Even if she is, just speak to them. You were a spy for many years Sydney, and your an intelligent woman, you can handle this."
"Can I borrow the car again tomorrow?"
"Of course."
"I'm sorry to keep taking the car, you've been stranded here -"
"Nonsense Sydney. Tomorrow afternoon I'm going to a movie with your Father, he's picking me up and I have no need for the car. You're going to take the car, help your best friend through her wedding and then you'll have a lovely time at the reception."
"Maybe we could do something together on Sunday."
"That sounds lovely," Irina agreed. "Perhaps dinner with your Father again?"
Not bothering to hesitate she nodded, "sure."
"You should go to bed, you'll have to be up early to be at your friends house at seven," her Mother realized. "Are you getting ready there?"
"Yes. My dress is there and so is everything else I need. I'd be getting up at the crack of dawn if I was going to get ready before then!"
"What time is the ceremony?"
"The wedding starts at eleven. I'm going to be the first one there; Amy and Sarah are going to come by later in the morning. Francie's Mom will be there to help too, but I'm going to have to make sure the luggage is at the reception and that everything is in order for the honeymoon. Plus Francie's restaurant is catering the wedding and I *know* she'll be too nervous to take care of that, so I think I'm going to be overseeing," she laughed.
"Your friend is very ambitious to cater her own wedding."
"At least she didn't do her own cake, that would have been a disaster," she commented, amused.
"Do you have your speech ready?"
"I'm on the fifth draft already. Every time I think I have it done I come up with something better to add or something to take away."
"I'm sure Will and Francie will love whatever you say."
"I hope so," she smiled. "Plus I have to make sure I have Francie's vows memorized so if she forgets them I can remind her."
"You're all going to do fine, and the ceremony will be beautiful. When the photos come I'd love to see you in your gown."
"Well I'll be wearing it home," she reminded her Mother. "I just hope it doesn't rain tomorrow."
"It never rains in Los Angles," her Mother smiled. "Where are they going on their honeymoon?"
"France," she explained. "They'll be gone for ten days."
"Are they staying near Agent Vaughn's birthplace?"
Sydney looked up at her Mother, amazed that she knew where he was born. Her question left her to once more question how much her Mother knew about her and those in her life. "They're staying at his Aunt's house."
"It should be a fabulous time for them. We had our honeymoon in Greece and Italy and it was fabulous. Who knows, maybe you'll be an Aunt in a few months?"
"I don't think it'll be that soon," she smiled, imagining Francie and Will bringing their own child into the world. Seconds later her mind filtered over to Vaughn, trying to imagine the pain he and Alice suffered when they lost Henry. Her formerly upbeat mood was now lackluster as she offered her Mother half a smile and stood. "I think I'm going to bed now. I'll leave you a note before I leave."
"I should be up to see you off. Get some sleep Sydney, and sweet dreams," she called to her daughter as Sydney climbed the stairs and disappeared to her room.
Author: UConn Fan (Michele)
E-Mail: LoveUConnBasketball@yahoo.com
Story Summary: Sydney's been gone for two years, and Vaughn is married to Alice. What happens when Sydney returns and is forced to accept the new changes that await her in Los Angeles.
Disclaimer: Don't own Sydney or Vaughn (don't I wish I did?! Who doesn't?!) or Will or Francie, Jack, Irina, Amy, Danny Eric, Alice (does anyone actually want to claim her?) or Amy. I do own Sarah and Miss Harper, but go ahead and use them if you feel the need. Don't own the Yankees or Mets or LA Kings. No affiliation with George Steinbrenner or Robin Ventura or Derek Jeter (oh, can I have him *and* Vaughn?! Oh and don't forget Mike-the-UConn-benchwarmer!). Let's be real here, I don't own anyone. I'm having fun. If JJ wants to offer me a job, go head! I'd move to California! Don't sue me though, all you'll get is a lot of UConn, Yankees & Alias/X-files stuff that probably means very little to anyone but me. Oh, and lots of video tapes and books.
A/N: UConn Men are no longer ranked sob - keep your fingers crossed they win tonight; Steinbrenner is not a nice man (who says mean things about my Derek?!! One day he'll be captain pretty pretty please); Spring Training has begun :) ; Trying Normal (my god you guys are persistant, seriously) was worked on *today* and should hopefully have a chapter up by the end of the week (IF I don't go away to Vermont tomorrow afternoon, in which case it'll be up next week; Vermont's still in the air, so I'm not sure); I love my Father but the man can infuriate me like no other on earth; There are reference to the Yankees & Mets here, they're not mandatory to understand, but amusing if you get them; I've never lost a child (I've never *kissed* a guy) and I did my best to handle the situation appropriately & how I thought the characters would. Alice is not meant to be the devil here, no one is, but I needed a reason for him to feel as though he was obligated to stay when his marriage was clearly in the toilet but at the same time I needed to feel comfortable when/if the time comes (I haven't written it yet so I don't know) to take him away from Alice and that was the only way to do it.
**PLEASE** Read & Respond! Even if you hate it, please be constructive and tell me where I went wrong!
Dedication: To Lainie. Thank you for your super-sweet words & encouragement!
"Hey!" Sydney called out the following morning. Hesitantly she walked into the house she used to share with Francie, now the home Will and Francie shared. "Hello? Is anyone here?"
"Why am I wearing heels?" Francie asked, walking into the room in obvious discomfort. Sydney laughed when she noticed Francie was walking around in the shoes she intended to be married in. "This isn't funny Syd! Everyone keeps saying that I should break the shoes in, but my feet are *killing* me!"
"I think the point is to break them in now so they don't kill you then," she suggested as she sat down on the sofa. "Where's Will?"
"He's at work. You know the only good thing about this job at the travel magazine is that we were able to get a really good deal on our honeymoon," she sighed as she pulled out a binder and sat down next to her friend.
"Where are you going?"
"France," she smiled widely. "I've never been and it's going to be *so* romantic."
Sydney smiled and nodded, remembering that the most romantic night of her life had taken place in France. Nice, to be exact, although she certainly hoped Will and Francie's evenings would end far more peacefully. "You're going to have a great time," she assured her.
"I need your help so much though!" She sighed. "See, I still have to finalize seating arrangements," she showed as she flipped through the thick binder. "I need to pack . . . Will you help me practice my make up?" She asked as her friend nodded. "Hey, do you have a car because then you could pick up the cake for me!"
"Sure, I'll pick up the cake," she smiled in agreement. "Your doing fine, everything is going to go wonderfully," she promised her friend.
"I really don't know how I'd go through these last days without you Syd, I'm so glad your home."
Leaning over to hug her friend, she nodded in agreement, "so am I."
Francie certainly kept her busy in the days to come. They spent hours going over seating arrangements, placing it so members of Will's family sat with members of her family that they got along with. Together they went over Francie's make up half a dozen times, including a few failed attempts to mix colors and different shades on her best friends skin. Sydney was the one who made sure all of Francie's plans - including the honeymoon and her pre-wedding hairdressers appointment. As the week progressed they picked up the wedding dress, confirming plans with Francie's other attendants, and on Thursday, two days before the big day, Sydney picked up the wedding cake and delivered it to Francie's restaurant for safekeeping.
Late Friday morning Will hurried to answer the door. He was busy packing his duffel bag, since his fiancée had insisted that they spend the night before their wedding apart. Pulling the door open, he smiled when he saw Sydney waiting there. "Hey Syd," he greeted her with a hug.
"Hey, is Francie ready to go?" She asked, stepping inside the warm home. They were going to the hairdresser together, meeting Amy and Sarah, Francie's restaurant manager, who had promised to be there when they arrived.
"I'm ready," Francie replied, smiling as she slung her jacket on and walked into the living room. Walking over to her fiancé, she smiled and kissed him, "I'm going to miss you."
"I'm going to miss you too," he whispered as Sydney laughed and rolled her eyes.
"You two will see each other in," she paused to glance at her watch. "Approximately six hours at the rehearsal!"
Will shrugged and looked back at Francie, "love you," he whispered as they kissed one more time.
"Okay, okay! I'm coming, let's go!" Francie agreed, laughing as the two girls walked out of the house.
Sydney met Sarah that afternoon and instantly felt comfortable around her. The four women sat discussing weddings, work and life in general as they flipped through magazines and had their hair done. Francie was having the hairdresser come to the house the following day to do the finishing touches, but the four had fun nonetheless. Sydney hadn't seen Amy in years and listened to her complain about men, school and being a single woman in Los Angeles, something she knew more then a little bit about herself.
That afternoon Michael finished tying his shoes and looked up as he heard the door to the bathroom opening. Alice slid out, still dressed in her previous nights bedclothes, scrutinizing him as he stood and slid on his jacket. "I promised Will I'd be at the church in a half hour. Do you want me to pick you up after the rehearsal and you can come to the dinner?" He offered. The truth was he would just as well prefer that Alice not attend the evening's festivities.
"No thank you," she muttered as she slid back onto the bed and turned on the bedroom's television. "Have fun," she muttered as he stiffly kissed her cheek. Silently he grabbed his keys and walked out of the house, patting Donovan's head as he passed and disgusted at the relief he felt to be out of her presence.
They were holding the wedding at a nondenominational church in the exclusive section of Los Angeles. Michael pushed the door open and stepped inside just as Francie was on the verge of realizing her entire wedding party was *not* present. Reading the look of panic on both Will and Sydney's faces, he was glad he hadn't waited another moment to leave the house. "Hey," Francie smiled and walked over to him. "I'm so glad your here!" She hugged him.
"I'm sorry if I'm late," he apologized, shaking his head. Then he allowed his eyes to briefly linger on Sydney as she stood in the front of the church, quietly talking to the minister.
"Your not late! C'mon, you have to meet Sydney!" Francie eagerly took his hand and lead him to the front of the church. Will stayed a few steps back, using his keen journalists eye to watch the scene unfold. Somehow, despite his logic, he doubted it was the first time they would have seen each other since her arrival. Knowing them as well as he did, he found it difficult to believe they could have stayed away from one another for so long.
Michael remained silent as Francie dropped his hand and tapped her best friend's shoulder, drawing her attention from the minister. All he could do was politely smile and nod at Amy and Sarah, both whom he had seen at various social gatherings that Will and Francie had thrown. Bracing himself he turned and met Sydney's eyes, unable to stop the smile from his face.
"Michael Vaughn, this is my best friend and maid of honor, Sydney Bristow. Syd, this is Will's best man," she explained before looking back at the tall man. "Syd's been in the Peace Corp the last couple of years. She's been teaching in Armenia!" She glowed in pride at her best friends accomplishments.
"That's fabulous," he smiled and shook her hand, silently thrilled to see the giddy look cross her features. "It's nice to meet you."
"It's great to meet you too," she commented, her smile growing even wider. Will stood back and shook his head, wondering what they had once again stumbled upon as Francie glowed. She had been right - they *were* perfect for each other, she silently awed.
"We should get this started," Will spoke up while taking the opportunity to break the moment. There was no one who wanted Sydney happy more then him, but Michael was still a married man and *someone* had to remind them of that fact.
The rehearsal went as smoothly as one could imagine. Over the rehearsal Sydney was relieved to watch Francie grow more and more comfortable with the next days events. That's when she wasn't doing her best to avoid looking into Vaughn's eyes, or even in his direction. In her mind she reasoned that she'd be meeting his wife in a few scant hours and it was best to sidestep the feelings she had so she could act pleasantly to Alice. She had done it once, and she would do it again.
Will's family had rented out a beautiful historic mansion in the same Los Angeles neighborhood as the church for the reception. Sydney sat back and enjoyed watching Francie and Will's families intermingling. She could see how relieved her best friends were - their parents got along well, but not *too* well. The restaurant had done a fabulous job of catering the small reception, and Sydney enjoyed the food and conversation. That evening she was able to catch up with Amy but also Eric Weiss, who was one of Will's groomsmen and someone she hadn't seen since she left for Armenia. Later on Sydney even found herself talking to Mrs. Calfo about wedding dresses and her experiences over the past two years.
Stars were already shining brightly over Los Angeles when she slipped out of the reception hall onto a small terrace overlooking a garden. Sitting down she was grateful to be out of the warm, busy room and by herself with her thoughts for a while. Avoiding Vaughn had been her prime objective for the evening, and it was turning out to be far more difficult then she imagined. Not once that evening had she looked at him, quite a feat when you recalled that he was the best man and she was the maid of honor. If he was there with Alice, which she fully suspected was the case, she would just assume avoid introductions. After several years she doubted Alice would still remember her as Rita from the State Department, but aside from worries about national security she knew she wanted to avoid seeing the one thing in life she wanted but would never have.
Sinking farther back into the comfortable lounge chaise, she let her mind wander back over the past few days. With Francie and Will leaving on their honeymoon, she knew that she'd have time to spend with her Mother and to hit the Los Angeles pavement looking for employment. Surely her Mother would allow her to stay for as long as she wished, since their time together had been enjoyable for both, but she knew she needed a job and even wanted one. There'd still be time to spend with her a Mother. Despite all the anger and bitter feelings that had swarmed her soul after Irina Derevko turned herself into the CIA, she now looked forward to being with her Mother, doing things regular Mothers and Daughters did. Perhaps her Father would even come over for Sunday dinner.
"You forgot this," a familiar male voice pointed out. Looking over her shoulder she was surprised to find Vaughn standing there, holding her wine glass out to her. Sydney wondered where her formerly finely tuned espionage skills had gone since she hadn't even heard the terrace door open and shut.
"Thank you," she smiled and took it from him as he sat down in the only other chaise lounge on the terrace. Running her finger over the edge of the wine glass, her smile faded away. Looking over the gardens, she tried to decipher which flowers had been planted there while she felt his eyes on her face. Daring to look back at him, she rounded up the courage to do what had been nagging her mind since she had seen him again in the CIA building. Somehow she could battle a man twice her size without flinching, but having a heart to heart with Michael Vaughn had the power to terrify her.
"I've wanted to tell you how sorry I am," she said in a low voice, grateful that he couldn't clearly meet her eyes in the darkness. "My Father . . . . He told me about Henry when I was in Armenia . . . . I just wanted you to know how sorry I am. I know it's been seven months, but if there's anything I can do, for you or Alice . . . Well, I'm here," she trailed off awkwardly.
Vaughn swallowed back his tears and wasn't surprised to hear that Jack had told her about his son. Henry Charles Vaughn, named after both his and Alice's late Fathers, had been born far too early and lived for only a few short hours. Alice's pregnancy had been difficult from the get go, whether because she was over thirty five or because of India's less then stellar medical care no one could be certain. Henry was going to be their new start, he had felt that their son's birth could help their marriage, but it was a futile thought. He was too early, too sick and lived less then one day in October. It was the worst day of his life. Not only did he lose his son, but he had also lost the woman he had thought he married.
Even in the darkness she could see the dampness in his eyes. Searching for her voice she finally spoke, "are you alright?"
The question bought a smile to his lips, baffling her. He could vividly remember the first time he met her. The accusatory look in her eyes - anyone and everyone could have been out to get her, and for a while everyone seemingly was. The stupidest thing he remembered asking was if she was all right, and the slight grimace that followed. When they had met the very last thing Sydney Bristow had been was all right, and now he was the one who was furthest from all right as anyone one person could be.
"I will be," he assured her as best he could. His companion nodded. Of all the people on earth she would best understand that the one thing that was best for healing was the passage of time. "I wanted to ask you how you were doing," he turned the tables on her. He'd always been more comfortable in his role as her protector instead of the other way around. At the question in his eye he continued, "with your parents?"
"It's going pretty good," she smiled and shrugged, taking a sip from her glass. "It's still weird," she confessed as they laughed. "You were right though. We're never going to be normal . . . Whatever that means," she looked down at her wine glass and sighed.
"Are you okay with that? With things never being quite as you imagined?"
"I think so," she smiled and met his eyes again. "I have my life back. I even have my family back, which is more then I expected. Will and Francie are together and happy . . . I've been thinking about what you said, and I do belong here, and I'm even sort of lucky," her dimples flared as he nodded. "That must sound ridiculous," she laughed self-consciously.
"No, it makes sense."
"Really?" She laughed, feeling better when he nodded. Seconds later she grew more serious and looked back at her wine glass. With another quick glance up at the stars, she allowed her eyes to drift back to him. Even with the light aging he had undergone since her departure, how she noticed that the laugh lines around his eyes had obviously gone through more use, along with his frown lines. Regardless of his aging, he was still beautiful and had the most amazing eyes she'd ever seen. "Where's Alice?"
The question changed the air on the terrace, causing him to look down at his own glass, searching for courage. "She's not here," he explained. "I don't know if Francie mentioned it but . . . They really don't get along," he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and kept his eyes firmly planted to the ground. "Even if they did, I'm not sure she'd want to spend an evening out with me," his forced laughter sent a chill down her spine.
Vaughn's self-deprecating comment left her briefly speechless. "Francie really seems to like you."
"Yeah," he smiled. "She's a great person," he finally met her eyes as she nodded.
"Did you know Will and Francie are going to France for their honeymoon?"
"I did," he chuckled at her surprised expression. "They're going to stay at my Aunt and Uncle's place . . . It's not exactly the Ritz, but it's in a nice part of the country and they'll have all the privacy they could want. Plus my Aunt promised to stock up the kitchen before they left."
"Aunt Trish's house?" She grinned as the surprised expression transferred to his face. He had mentioned his Aunt Trish only once, off-handedly, years ago. Nevertheless, Sydney remembered, just as he recalled every conversation they had and every little nugget of her life that she shared with him.
"Aunt Trish's house," he nodded as she laughed. "Her only stipulation was that if Francie and Will spot any UFO's they have to take pictures for her, since it's supposedly peak time for UFO sightings," he eyebrows rose as they both laughed.
"I thought your Aunt was more interested crop circles?" She asked as he laughed.
"Oh, she's still interested crop circles, but someone in the nearest town claimed to have saw a UFO about a year ago and now my Aunt's hell-bent on seeing one too. She doesn't like to be outdone, especially when it comes to the paranormal."
Sydney laughed and tried to imagine what his Aunt Trish must be like. "She sounds wonderful."
"She is," he agreed before tearing his eyes away from her, afraid to look at her for too long. "In her own unique way, she is wonderful."
Vaughn sat back in his seat and tried to imagine Sydney meeting his only Aunt. Somehow he could even imagine them getting along. Sydney would appreciate his Aunt, even with her passion for Wicca and the calendar of Witchcraft she kept on her desk. Trish would enjoy Sydney's company, glad that her nephew had finally strayed away from his usual taste in petite blondes. Although Trish was a petite blonde herself, she had warned Michael away from them for years, but to no avail. One quality he had inherited in vengeance from the Delorme side of his family was stubbornness.
In contrast Alice hated Trish and Trish wasn't all that keen on Alice. One quality his Aunt and Mother shared was that they could both make you believe they liked you while in fact they despised you. It was that skill that led Alice to believe that Trish loved her even though in private all his wife could say were not-so-kind word about his eccentric Aunt. Trish had her faults, but he loved her and thought Alice would step up her effort to get along with his Aunt once they married, but so far no such effort had been made.
"Where will your Aunt and Uncle be for Francie and Will's honeymoon?"
"Paris. They go once or twice a year, and decided that May was as good of a time as any," he shrugged.
"They'll all have a great time," Sydney commented.
They remained in comfortable silence for a while, watching the sky darken and the stars brighten, both unwilling to acknowledge the occasional passing glance in the others direction. When he leaned forward in his seat, he instantly drew her attention. "Do you plan on staying?" He met her eyes and asked softly. "Here? In LA?"
The painful truth was he wasn't sure how emotionally involved he could become if she had no intention of staying. Perhaps she had plans to rejoin the Peace Corps, or for all he knew she could so something bizarre like move to Connecticut or Maine to a life far removed from Los Angeles. The last thing he wanted was for her to leave again. Now that she was back he wanted to be in her life, regardless of how small a role she might cast him in.
"Maybe not Los Angeles, my Mom found some listings in Sherman Oaks that look promising," she informed him as he let out a silent sigh of relief. "Know anyone looking to sell an apartment?" She teased.
"I'll keep my ears open," he promised warmly.
"How's Donovan?"
A smile crossed his face at the mention at one of the few good things in his life. Donovan his overweight, far too intelligent and extremely loyal four-legged pal. "A few months ago I brought him to the vet and the vet very seriously sat him down and said 'Donovan, you need to lose a pound or two or else your going to exceed your weight limit', so I went out and I bought every expensive diet dog food and vitamin in the LA metro area," he explained, one eyebrow rose and a half smile on his face as he wove his story. "Now I'm watching him every day and we still go jogging together but I don't think Donovan knows how to lose weight, I don't think he had the necessary metabolism. Last week we went to get his booster shots - I swear the vet costs me more then my monthly car payment," he rolled his eyes as she laughed. "Anyway, they put him on the scale and not only has he not *lost* any weight, he's actually ten pounds heavier then he was at the last appointment."
"Poor Donovan," Sydney managed to squeak out in the midst of her laughter. "I guess you just can't teach an old dog new tricks," she shrugged.
Vaughn shook his head and chuckled, "tell me about it. He's a great dog though."
"I've been thinking about getting a dog," she confessed and took a sip of her wine.
"Really?" There was surprise evident on his features.
"Really," she laughed and nodded. "It can't be until after I live on my own though. My Mom's not too keen on dogs, she's more of a cat person."
"Somehow," he muttered with a raised eyebrow, "that doesn't surprise me."
"There is something uniquely cat-like about my Mother, isn't there?" She realized as he nodded. "What am I talking about, getting an apartment and a dog . . . I don't even have a job," she shook her head and sighed. "I'm getting ahead of myself."
"You'll get a job," he quickly assured her.
"I've decided I want to teach high school," she confessed. "For the entire duration of graduate school I thought I wanted to be a university professor . . . Just like I thought my Mom was," she said softly as he nodded. "Now though . . . I can do more in a high school, I can reach more kids and do more then just give lectures and grade essays. I can *help* people. By college you either love literature or you hate it," she shrugged, "but in high school I can get them and help them love it."
"Private or public?"
"I don't care," she smiled with deep dimples. "I just want to teach."
"I can barely remember two of my college professors but I remember any high school teacher I ever had - substitutes included."
"No you don't," she teased as he nodded.
"Oh yeah, especially the pretty ones," he cast her a long glance before looking down at his wine. "I even wanted to marry one teacher my sophomore year."
"Oh no," she laughed as she waited for him to continue.
"She was my sophomore typing teacher. Physically I thought she was attractive although she wasn't my type. Everyone loved her, the entire student body. She was only twenty four and at fifteen I didn't think that was an insurmountable gap," he chuckled. "We became friends. I probably could have learned how to type with my eyes closed in two weeks but I was determined *not* to learn so I could go after school for extra credit. She was a huge Mets fan and we would hang out and watch golf on television or baseball games. Of course there were other students in the room, but I didn't care," he shook his head at the memory. "You know I still e-mail her once in awhile, and my sister still threatens to tell her that she was the first woman I ever thought I loved."
"So what became of this fabulous teacher?"
"Same old story," he sighed fondly. "My freshman year of college she married the man she'd been dating since before she ever met me. She actually sent me pictures; they were the first things in my mailbox when I came back from Key West with a hangover. Needless to say I learned then to never open my mail hung over," he laughed. "Eventually I bounced back," he sighed as he remembered the woman he had met short months after receiving those pictures and subsequently married years later.
At two pivotal times in his life Alice had been his rebound. Of course he'd never actually *had* Miss Harper, but in his mind they'd already been married with children. Deep in his mind he knew not only did he deserve better, but so did the young blonde who'd brought him back to his former taste in petite blondes, never mind that Miss Harper had been a tall brunette.
"I was actually thinking about becoming a Coach too," she spoke up. "You know, maybe I could Coach cross country or track, I have plenty of experience," she smiled.
"You could start a kickboxing club," he suggested as she laughed.
"I don't want to have to explain that to a future employer."
"Thought about the world of international banking?" He joked as a look of mock terror crossed her face.
"*Never*! Any actual aspirations I had dealing with finance are long over!" She shook her head before growing serious. "So, will Alice be going with you tomorrow?" She questioned, instantly kicking herself for bringing up his wife. Neither one of them wanted to talk about it, but the martyr in her wouldn't let it rest.
"I don't know," he looked away from her. The mere mention of Alice and he was unable to meet her eyes. "I don't think so, but I'm not sure."
"Tomorrow should be wonderful though," she smiled as he nodded. Laughing she continued, "I still can't believe Will and Francie are getting married."
"No one will tell me, what's the dress like?"
"No," she shook her head with an impish grin. "A maid of honor never tells. I do promise that she'll look beautiful, Will has no reason to worry."
"I think he's more worried about forgetting his vows then not approving of the dress," he chuckled. "Have you started sending out resumes for jobs?"
"I just finished writing up my resume. Dad said I could come in next week and use his fax machine to send them," she shrugged as he made a mental note that she'd be in the building the next week.
"The Kings have been horrible since you left," he muttered, as if the Kings misery had some correlation to her departure. In his mind they did, both caused him to be miserable.
"Really?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "They're not deep, and their main scorers keep getting banged up," he shook his head in digest. "It's really become painful to watch and it's embarrassing to admit being a fan."
"All good teams have down years."
"Even the Yankees?"
Moving her eyes to her wine glass her dimples once again flared as she nodded. "Yes, even the Yankees."
"Do you realize the Mets have taken twelve of their last eighteen meetings?"
"I was wondering when you were going to bring that up."
"Jeter's overrated."
"Look what happened to Ventura when he came over from Shea!" She protested before laughing at their absurd conversation, the levity at which they could talk and the wonder that they had something to talk about outside of international espionage and national security.
"When we win our World Series - and we *will* - it will be because we *earned* it not because Steinbrenner bought it."
"We win ours too, it's not like he goes out and *buys* the World Series, they play!" She weakly pointed out.
"That's a poor argument Syd," he chuckled.
Before she could present a stronger case the terrace door slid open and Eric Weiss walked out. "Hey guys," he greeted, having caught up with Sydney earlier in the evening. "Sydney, Francie's getting ready to go and wants to know if you plan on going with her."
"Yes, of course," she stood and looked at the men. "I'll see you both tomorrow."
"We'll be there," Eric playfully shot back as Michael nodded.
Although it was late when Sydney walked into her Mother's front door, she wasn't surprised to see Irina waiting up in the living room, attempting to look engrossed in another thick novel. Irina looked up, as her daughter walked in and smiled at her, "how was the rehearsal?"
"It was fine," she smiled and sat down next to her Mother with a sigh. Setting her book down on the table she turned to face her daughter.
"How's your friend holding up? Her name's Francie, right?" She questioned, placing a gentle hand on her daughter's knee.
"Yes, Francie," she smiled and nodded. "She's doing fine. I'm supposed to be at the house at seven tomorrow to help her get ready," she explained. Leaning down she kicked off her shoes and scooted off of the coach.
"Who else is in the wedding party?"
"Well Sarah and Amy are going to be the maids of honor." As she spoke she grabbed a throw pillow and lay on the floor, resting her elbows and forearms on the pillow. "Sarah is the manager of Francie's restaurant and Amy's Will's sister."
Irina nodded and bent over to brush hair off of her daughter's face. "The best man and groomsmen?" She asked and sat back comfortably.
"Eric and Kevin are going to be his groomsmen. He works with Eric and then he's known Kevin since grade school."
"And the best man?"
Sighing she looked down at her hands and conceded something she suspected Irina knew all along. "Vaughn's his best man."
"Interesting turn of events," she noted. "There was a time and place where I believed that Mr. Tippin was in love with you, and here he is best friends with his former rival."
"Will and Vaughn were never rivals," Sydney dismissed the thought. Had they ever considered one another rivals? That was a question she'd never be able to ask. In her heart, however, there had never been any question. "I love him," she sighed, resting her chin on her folded hands. Glancing up at her Mother, she was surprised at the look of calm acceptance on Irina's face. She had nothing left to lose telling her Mother; if the CIA was listening, so be it. She fully suspected Irina's phone was tapped, so they already knew she'd been in contact with him. Sydney was no longer an employee of the CIA, and it wasn't as though she was going to act upon her feelings. "There's a very real chance I will never be with him . . . . I don't know if I can be with anyone else though."
"You moved on after Danny," her Mother gently reminded her.
Regaining her posture, she sat up and pushed hair behind her ear with a nod. "I did . . . I know I'm still young, but what I shared with Vaughn . . . Even what I didn't share with Vaughn," she whispered before returning to her regular voice. "It was so much more then I had with Danny. For the longest time I thought that maybe that was wrong . . . That I shouldn't have found something more special then what I had with Danny, but I did. Vaughn knows . . *Knew*," she regretfully corrected herself. "Every part of my life, he was there with me for some of the lowest points of my life . . . There's never going to be another man in my life like him."
"There's no rule saying you can never have him," Irina smiled serenely.
"Mom, he's married."
"So?" She shrugged, her hair bouncing as she did so. "He'll get divorced."
"Vaughn's not like that . . Not after everything he and Alice have been through. He's not going to leave her."
"Yes, your right, Mr. Vaughn is an honorable man. "When it comes to love, however, even the mightiest have been known to fall."
"I don't want to ruin his marriage, I want him to be happy."
"Then don't ruin his marriage, but if you love him like you say you do, don't you dare give up your space in his life."
"I get the impression that that's going to cause complications with Alice."
"As long as Vaughn wants you in his life, then let Alice deal with her complications," Irina insisted.
"Are you sure that's the right thing to do?" She asked. Deep inside her mind she was wondering if she had lost her mind; two years before she never would have been sitting in her *Mothers* living room asking for love advice. However with a less then a day until Francie and Will's wedding, she had very little choice but turn to the woman she so desperately sought a real relationship with.
"Honestly?" She questioned softly as her daughter nodded. "No, Sydney, I'm not sure it's the right thing to do. I can tell you, however, if you walk away from his life without holding on to what you can have, you will regret it the rest of your life. You've gone through too much to add another regret to your list."
"You know," she started, pausing to take a sip of the water her Mother had been drinking. "I actually thought my life would be easier once SD-6 was gone."
"Well isn't it?"
"Not really," she shrugged. "I had built up this fantasy of how my life would be after SD-6 that I completely ignored anything that went against my fantasy."
Laying back down she once again rested her head on her chin. Once she was comfortable she gazed at her Mother and sighed. "I don't even know if he loves me."
"Oh, Sydney," she sighed with a wistful smile.
"He never said anything -" she softly protested.
"He never needed to," Irina laughed as Sydney sat up straight. "Sweetheart it was obvious to me from the moment I met him that he loved you. That he was *in* love with you and had been for a long time. Some things . . . Some things don't *need* to be said, they're just implied. Love is one of those things," she smiled and shrugged.
"I used to believe that maybe . . . . . He married Alice."
"The road to hell is paved with good intentions," she reminded her only to be met by Sydney's perplexed look. "Sweetheart, I haven't seen Agent Vaughn in several years . . . However, if I was forced to evaluate his actions, I'd have to say that they all lead back to you," she sat down across from her daughter and smiled. "You left Sydney. Both you and Agent Vaughn knew it was best, that you needed to give back for what you thought you had taken away. As trained professionals you both knew that it was best for your safety, but you still left. Men are foolish, and if Agent Vaughn has any flaws it's that he *is* a man. Not all, but many, believe that it's best to move past your feelings for someone instead of working through them. Alice was there. They had a history, one with far less pain and bumps in the road that what you two have. He's clearly miserable Sydney, and he's obviously been in love with you for years."
Laughing she shook her head and looked at her Mother. "You should have been a relationship counselor Mom."
"Maybe," Irina shrugged with a smile. "Maybe I just know my daughter."
That comment rendered her speechless for a few moments. Contradictory thoughts and notions floated through her mind, nearly making her dizzy. Finally breaking the comfortable silence she looked up at her Mother and broke it with her quiet words. "What do I do now?"
"Tomorrow morning you'll get up and go help your best friend prepare for making the biggest commitment of her life. You'll have fun because tomorrow your two best friends are getting married, and that's not something so wonderful that many people get to experience. Enjoy tomorrow Sydney, and don't avoid Agent Vaughn," she advised.
"How did you -" she started to ask, rendered speechless and wondering how her Mother knew her tactic for the evening.
"Don't avoid him Sydney, you'll only push him further away."
"How can I be sure he even wants to see me?"
"He always wants to see you," Irina corrected. "Just talk to him Sydney."
"What if Alice is there tomorrow?"
"She wasn't there tonight?"
"No," she looked down at her hands. "Alice and Francie don't get along that well."
"If she didn't make an appearance at the rehearsal I doubt she'll make one at the wedding. Even if she is, just speak to them. You were a spy for many years Sydney, and your an intelligent woman, you can handle this."
"Can I borrow the car again tomorrow?"
"Of course."
"I'm sorry to keep taking the car, you've been stranded here -"
"Nonsense Sydney. Tomorrow afternoon I'm going to a movie with your Father, he's picking me up and I have no need for the car. You're going to take the car, help your best friend through her wedding and then you'll have a lovely time at the reception."
"Maybe we could do something together on Sunday."
"That sounds lovely," Irina agreed. "Perhaps dinner with your Father again?"
Not bothering to hesitate she nodded, "sure."
"You should go to bed, you'll have to be up early to be at your friends house at seven," her Mother realized. "Are you getting ready there?"
"Yes. My dress is there and so is everything else I need. I'd be getting up at the crack of dawn if I was going to get ready before then!"
"What time is the ceremony?"
"The wedding starts at eleven. I'm going to be the first one there; Amy and Sarah are going to come by later in the morning. Francie's Mom will be there to help too, but I'm going to have to make sure the luggage is at the reception and that everything is in order for the honeymoon. Plus Francie's restaurant is catering the wedding and I *know* she'll be too nervous to take care of that, so I think I'm going to be overseeing," she laughed.
"Your friend is very ambitious to cater her own wedding."
"At least she didn't do her own cake, that would have been a disaster," she commented, amused.
"Do you have your speech ready?"
"I'm on the fifth draft already. Every time I think I have it done I come up with something better to add or something to take away."
"I'm sure Will and Francie will love whatever you say."
"I hope so," she smiled. "Plus I have to make sure I have Francie's vows memorized so if she forgets them I can remind her."
"You're all going to do fine, and the ceremony will be beautiful. When the photos come I'd love to see you in your gown."
"Well I'll be wearing it home," she reminded her Mother. "I just hope it doesn't rain tomorrow."
"It never rains in Los Angles," her Mother smiled. "Where are they going on their honeymoon?"
"France," she explained. "They'll be gone for ten days."
"Are they staying near Agent Vaughn's birthplace?"
Sydney looked up at her Mother, amazed that she knew where he was born. Her question left her to once more question how much her Mother knew about her and those in her life. "They're staying at his Aunt's house."
"It should be a fabulous time for them. We had our honeymoon in Greece and Italy and it was fabulous. Who knows, maybe you'll be an Aunt in a few months?"
"I don't think it'll be that soon," she smiled, imagining Francie and Will bringing their own child into the world. Seconds later her mind filtered over to Vaughn, trying to imagine the pain he and Alice suffered when they lost Henry. Her formerly upbeat mood was now lackluster as she offered her Mother half a smile and stood. "I think I'm going to bed now. I'll leave you a note before I leave."
"I should be up to see you off. Get some sleep Sydney, and sweet dreams," she called to her daughter as Sydney climbed the stairs and disappeared to her room.