Sydney sat in the corner of the safe house room, curled into a fetal position with her back against the wall. 'Vaughn... where are you?' Sydney's internal clock told her she would soon be entering her fourth day in this room. Of course that could not be confirmed, there was no window to the outside and the caretaker stopped bringing food and water when he realized that Sydney was not eating. 'Vaughn... the flight to Hong Kong is only about 16 hours. You should have been here at least two full days ago. There's something wrong. I have to get out of here.' Sydney heard footsteps in the hall. She rose and moved toward the door as it opened... the caretaker entered and Sydney attacked him, turned him and threw him against the wall.
"You will give me information or let me out of here. Where am I? Who have you called about my being here? Why has my contact not arrived?"
"Missy... please... they come... please don't hurt me." Sydney removed her hands from his throat, but her stance suggested that if he tried anything, she would be back at his throat instantly. "Missy... you are at CIA safe house... you came here..."
"That may be, but you have me locked in here, you won't tell me anything and it doesn't take four days to send an agent from LA."
"Your agent is here now... at airport. He will be her... two hours at most... please... you eat this now... no worries."
Sydney looked at the plate of food, mostly rice and fish. She had been trained not to eat when in custody. Enemy food could be hazardous to your health, she reminded herself. "I will eat when I know what is going on. If my handler is not here in two hours... I'm outta here. Tell your bosses that."
"Missy... I see you capable of leaving now. If you no like here... why not leave?"
Sydney thought about his question. She called the distress line, she entered the code, and she followed instructions... Why did she feel so uncomfortable about being here? She looked at the caretaker. "Two hours. That's it."
Sydney continued to pace the room. Hunger and the availability of the food overcame Sydney's training. She ate the rice from the plate the caretaker left. She did not smell or taste anything unusual, but that was no indication... Sydney froze... did she hear someone in the hall?
Vaughn entered the safe house and greeted the caretaker, "I'm looking for Emily."
"No Emily here... How about Simon?"
"I'm looking for Rene."
"You show me ID." Vaughn flashed his CIA badge. "Come this way, agent Vaughn. It is about time. You be careful. She no eat... no sleep... and she ready to snap."
"I'll be careful," he said, knowing Sydney would do more than snap when she saw him.
Coming to the door, I knocked quietly. Not hearing any protest, I opened the door carefully and entered. I saw her, eyes wild from confusion and inactivity. "Vaughn..." She talked as if trying to get five different thoughts into one sentence.
"Yes, we know Francine is the double... Will is OK... he was hurt, bleeding, but OK now..."
She tried to hug and kiss me again. I took her by the wrists and stepped away from her. Her face showed more confusion now. I made her sit in the chair; I sat on the bed. "Sydney, listen to me."
"Vaughn, what took you so long to get here? I've been here four days..."
Vaughn was really nervous now. His speech became as quick and stuttering as Sydney's. He tried to explain, using his hand to talk, as he did when he was nervous.
"Sydney, you have been missing for two years, there has been no indication of your existence. We were told you were dead..." Vaughn stopped talking and looked at his 'asset,' her face had turned an ashen white.
"Two years... No... I have been here only four days... I called the distress line right away..." Sydney rose; her face was very pale now. "Vaughn... we are going on vacation next weekend... to Santa Barbara... We have reservations..."
"Sydney... that was two years ago." At that moment, the contents of her stomach, what little there was, decided to flip and come up. She ran to the sink and threw up. I walked up behind her. Saw the glass of water on the tray. "Drink this..." My hand touched her back.
Frightened and relying only on instincts, she twirled around, knocked the glass from my hand and my other hand from her back. I stepped away from her and raised my hands to show her I was not a threat. Her eyes that had been focused on my face, took in my stance and my hand, my left hand in particular. An eerie quiet permeated the room. Her eyes, now filling with tears, moved back to mine, searching for understanding. She took my left hand in her right. She looked at the ring, touched it and looked back into my eyes. She backed up against the wall, pushing my hand away from her.
"You're married." The statement was more of an accusation than anything else.
"Sydney... you have to understand."
In that instant, I saw her demeanor change. Her eyes, that had been wild in confusion, were now irate. They were darker than I had ever seen before. In her confused state, she had backed up against the wall, but now irate, she struck out, pushing me away from her. In the small room, I tripped over the bed and fell onto it. She stood over me. "I don't have to understand anything. I don't see you for four days... two more than it should have taken for you to get here. You tell me that you are back at CIA... means that you left... you got married..." She stops suddenly. I can almost see and feel her mind at work, putting two and two together.
I try to jump in, "Sydney..."
"Why? Why did they have to bring you back? Why not send my Father, Dixon or even Weiss to retrieve me. Why you Vaughn? Why bring you back?"
The silence in the room was deafening. "The directors... believe there is another machine out there, to create doubles." I was having a hard time even looking at her, but I had to keep eye contact.
"They could have sent someone over to complete a retinal scan... Still don't know why they sent you."
"Retinal scans didn't help us with the first two doubles we encountered... now did it?" That came out a little too defensive, so I really toned down the next statement. "They wanted a more... uh... phys..."
She didn't even let me finish. She may have been out of it for two years, but her alert mind and agile body were not evidence of it. "They wanted physical proof... something that does not double because of DNA. They wanted you to inspect my scars... because... well... you have had the most recent and intimate knowledge of me."
Her beautiful eyes bored into my soul. Everything I felt for her, all the worry and sadness I felt over the two years she was gone, all the love and admiration I felt prior to that, swirled in my stomach and I felt nauseous as well. I could not speak, but my eyes showed assent.
"FINE!" I wasn't sure what she was doing at first, but quickly understood. I sat back on the bed, not knowing how to stop this.
She flung off her shirt, up over her head and threw the garment at me. She pointed to her abdomen. "How about this one? Oh... I'm sorry. This is the cut I got while fighting my best friend, Francine. But that won't help will it? You never saw that scar! How about this one... She pointed to her shoulder. "... This is the one my mother gave me. Remember that? This one you used to caress while we lay in bed together. You occasionally gave me kisses there when I was feeling bad about my mother. Is that enough? NO?" She looks at me, no words would come out.
"OK then..." She begins to unbutton her pants and they are quickly removed.
"Sydney..."
"No... This is what you came here for... isn't it?" She throws the pants at me. She is standing in front of me dressed only in her underwear. She began pointing out scars from her years as an agent. Every scar has a story of how I would touch it, kiss it during intimate times. I remembered each story, each scar. Each memory spurred her onto the next. "Is that enough? Now? Because I can always remove all my clothes then you can really fuck me and get all the proof you need!"
I stood. I knew nothing I could say at that moment would make anything better. I held her pants and shirt out to her. "Get dressed, Sydney, I'll take you back to LA. I'll be at the front desk, just come out when you're ready." I left her there... coward that I now know I am... I left here there crying. As I closed the door, I heard her body slam against it. I heard her sobbing as she sunk to the floor. My hands lay flat against the door and my head fell between them. I cried... for her... for me... for the life we would never share. I prayed for the strength to leave her at the end of the two weeks.
A/N: Well, it's up to you. Since this is where the show actually left off at the end of the season, my "Two Years" is up. Do you want me to continue this story? I have a few more ideas, but want to know if you are willing to read them. So please review so I know the good, the bad and the ugly opinions. BTW: Sorry about the swearing. The situation, again in my opinion, was highly charged and I could see Sydney swearing at that moment. I am sure the real owners of ALIAS and Bad Robot (None of which I am affiliated with) would never have Sydney swear. But, I am very anxious to see how they get her out of this situation (and how she got there.)