Chapter 11: Prior Engagements, Part II
A/n: Muchas gracias for reviewing/ e-mailing me!! Really, it makes me soooo happy when I get reviews. I'm nearly to fifty! SO excited. That's like a milestone. I should buy myself something in celebration when I hit it. Or maybe I'll just go hunting for a new Vaughn pic. Sexy... Anyway, I want to warn you in advance that Sydney has a swearing fit later in this chapter. And I'm pretty sure that is how she would react to the person she is swearing at, so I don't think it's out of character. This one turned out to be a lot longer than I expected... Probably because I added some flashbacks (gotta love them).
Disclaimer: I do not own Alias. But if I owned Vaughn I would not marry him off like some other crazy person did (cough, JJ Abrams, cough!).
* * * * * * *
As reluctant as she was to leave Vaughn's apartment, she had to know what the big emergency was. As she slammed the door to her car shut and drove away, tears formed in her eyes, but didn't fall. Why did she just leave her Michael in the midst of his question. It wasn't just any old question, after all. It was *THE* question. The one she would have been asked if he hadn't been shot that night. The one at which she should have shouted yes, thrown her arms around his neck and kissed him silly. The one that they should be calling people about and telling them the great news.
But no. She had to stupidly say To be continued' and walk out the door.
God, Vaughn must feel awful, she thought. Why? WHY? Why did I have to be so stubborn sometimes? He went through all this trouble just for me, and I walk out the door. Maybe I should call him on his cell phone and tell him... No. I can't do that over the phone. She tried to shake her head of these thoughts, though she felt horrible for just leaving Vaughn hanging.
She parked her car and stepped out into the cool, humid air. The fall weather was just beginning, though warm breezes still filled the atmosphere. She quickly and neatly pulled her hair back into a ponytail and began to jog out towards Headquarters. Even as she jogged, however, she felt anger at herself growing. Really, why did do that to him?
She dropped a quarter into the cup that the fake homeless man held out to her and she continued to run past him. He signaled to Headquarters to let her in. She soon came to the phone booth and plugged in the numbers. Next she entered through the door and found Weiss waiting there for her.
He had a look of sorrow on his face. I'm really sorry that I interrupted dinner with Vaughn and everything. I don't know exactly how far he got but...
Sydney cast a quick glance to the ground. So Eric had been following her around today with Francie. She had a feeling he was trailing her, but now she was sure that he knew of Vaughn's intentions. He got as far as he needed to go. It was me who didn't get far enough. Eric looked confused, but Sydney did not want him asking right now. So what's up?
Follow me, he said all too abruptly before leading her into the heart of the CIA. There were many people rushing around, and screaming on phones. She saw Dixon deep in thought staring at his computer screen writing down notes now and then. She saw Marshall typing away at his computer.
Director Kendall walked up to Sydney. Agent Bristow, there's been a complication while your father was on a mission –
Sydney was roaring with questions immediately. What do you mean? Is he all right? Where is he?
Kendall sighed briefly. Your father was intercepted by an unknown source. We are currently unaware of his location.
The color began to drain from Sydney's face. Sure, she hadn't had the best relationship with her father, despite the fact that she loved him. How could he be gone, just like that?
Kendall attempted to give her a reassuring look. We're doing everything in our power to find him. All she could do was give a gentle nod. He walked away briskly to supervise elsewhere.
Sydney spotted her father's desk and made her way over to his desk. She collapsed in his chair, and covered her face with her hands in despair. she softly mumbled to no one.
Everything is just so screwed up right now, she thought. Could this day get any worse?
Uh, Syd? a nervous voice came from behind her. She turned her head and found Weiss. Kendall has something he wants you to do – to help find your father – but I don't know if you'll want to do it.
I'll do anything, she said sincerely.
He wants you to go talk with your mother.
She immediately closed her eyes and tried to find any strength left in her. She tightly gripped the arm of the chair and stood up. Guess I spoke to soon... It could get worse. I'll talk to her. Even after her mother's recovery, Sydney wasn't too comfortable around her. She often found herself arguing with her; an event she had missed as a teenager that was coming back to haunt her now.
Weiss raised his eyebrows and said, Ok, well I still have work to do. Are you sure you'll be all right?
she said, though she didn't quite believe it herself. But I have a question first. Weiss nodded. How do they know he was intercepted?
The mission was yesterday morning. He hasn't made any contact to us, and we haven't been able to contact him. Sydney nodded solemnly in acknowledgment. Just as Weiss turned to walk away, Sydney swore she saw an idea forming in his head. She thought nothing of it and prepared to go talk with her mother.
Meandering aimlessly though the busy hallways, she finally found herself waiting for the barred gates to open then close, sealing her and Irina Derevko off from the rest of the world, or so it seemed. She didn't even notice when she passed by the prison cell of Arvin Sloane.
her mother said before turning around, letting her instinct take over. She turned and found her usual brazen daughter looking frail and scared. What's the matter, is something wrong?
Sydney drew in a deep breath. Dad was on a mission earlier. Simple, nothing much. Not too risky. Though something went wrong, and he was kidnapped. Irina's face showed sudden sympathy. We don't know where he is, or who has him, she added shakily, but we have to find him.
Do you have any idea who could have him? Irina was silent for a while, and Sydney grew more impatient as the seconds passed. Do you know anything?! she shouted.
Nothing. I know nothing. Were those tears beginning to well in her mother's eyes? I haven't been in contact with anyone else but you, or your father, or Kendall, or anyone else from the CIA. I don't know what's been going on with the world, or with you, or with any of the people I used to be associated with. I've been here. So if you think I know who it could be, then you would think that I've been disloyal to the CIA. Is that what you think, Sydney?
Sydney stepped back away from the glass, frightened by her mother's explosion. No, that's not what I think at all. I...
I wouldn't keep it from you if I knew where he was!
I know! Sydney finally shouted back at her mother. Irina looked back at her daughter, shocked. I know? How do I know? I'm scared, Mom.
Then and there, Sydney leaned her forehead on the glass and cried, letting out everything she had held in for that day. Vaughn, then her father. Irina could only place her hand on the cold glass and reminisce in the days when she could hold her daughter lovingly, in comfort. She used to make all of Sydney's problems go away. Now all she could do was lay her hand across glass. Was there something she could say that would help? Irina bit her lip as her daughter let her emotions get the better of her.
He has to come back, Sydney managed to whisper. He can't leave me now.
Irina had never wished so hard in recent months that she could hold her daughter once more. A few tears trickled down her cheek. You may not believe me, and your father certainly wouldn't believe me, but I truly did love him. Sydney looked up at her mother as her tears began to ease. As much as the KGB didn't want me to fall in love with him, I did. And as much as they didn't want me to have you, I did. More quietly she added, And as much as I didn't want to leave you, I did. Sydney looked deep into her mother's eyes as she pondered where this conversation was going. Irina's eyes averted away momentarily, but returned Sydney's gaze with strong hope. I came back. Jack will too.
Sydney wanted to ask how she knew; how she looked so sure; how she could stare straight into Sydney's eyes and tell her that wholeheartedly. I wish I believed you, but I don't think he's coming back. Why did Irina look so sure? Could she know something? No, she was only looking strong for Sydney's sake. Now Sydney saw the fear slowly creeping into her mother's eyes.
Irina set her hand along the glass, and Sydney let her hand fit over it, covering Irina's fingers with her own, only letting the glass separate them. She didn't even notice the footsteps that lingered nearer. Finally she felt a tap at her shoulder.
Sydney turned her head and found Vaughn standing behind her, still in his suit. Hey... did you drive here? You aren't supposed to drive, and –
Syd. Please, he raised his hand into the air to plead for her to stop. Weiss called me back and told me what happened. I'm sorry. Sydney let her eyes wander up to his green ones. She saw sorrow, and hurt. She had caused that hurt. The guilt suddenly washed over her body like a wave to the shore.
She wanted to make his pain go away. Vaughn, I want to answer you now, but... but I - I just, I can't right now. Tears threatened to spill again and Vaughn rushed to her side and pulled her into a hug. He stroked her back lovingly as she leaned her head on his muscular shoulder.
I don't need an answer, Syd. I'll wait. Vaughn sighed silently as he realized that he stood just outside of Irina Derevko's cell. Sydney lifted her head off his shoulder and tried to give him a smile. So, do you have any information? he asked, casting a glance to Irina.
No, not yet, said Sydney oppressively.
Maybe you should try talking to Sloane, he suggested, though hesitantly.
Sydney didn't even answer him. She was already through the barred gates racing to the glass in front of Sloane's cell. Wow, he thought. He had thought she wouldn't want to speak with him ever again. However, this was a rare circumstance, and Sloane may really know something. Vaughn began to leave and stand with Sydney.
What question was she talking about? Irina asked almost as an afterthought when Vaughn waited for the barred gate.
Irina thought he didn't hear her, but just as he walked away he said, You don't deserve to know.
He found Sydney pounding her fists angrily against the glass. What do you know!?! Tell me now! The fire in her eyes reflected off the glass, Vaughn noticed. He then saw Sloane smiling smugly from his bench.
What are you talking about, Sydney? he asked, calm as could be.
Sydney erupted at that moment. You know damn well what I'm talking about! Now where is my father?!
Vaughn wanted to rip that smug grin off his face, and he was sure Sydney would have been glad to do it for him. Oh, Jack? I don't know, why don't you ask Mr. Sark?
Suddenly the words that Sloane said to Sydney the day they took down SD-6 replayed in her head...
You watch out, Sydney, because you don't know what's coming.
She slammed her clenched fists against the glass. What are you doing to him!?!
Sloane simply laughed. So naive... And to think, Sydney, I always thought of you as my daughter.
Shut the hell up! Now tell me where he is!
I told you, ask Sark.
Sydney made a quick move towards the door to Sloane's cell, but Vaughn grabbed hold of her shoulders and pulled her back. Even though he wished she could go in Sloane's cell and beat the answer out of him, he knew she couldn't. Let go of me, Vaughn, Sydney said through gritted teeth.
he replied defiantly. Sydney's body was shaking beneath his grip. She turned her neck to look back into his eyes, hoping he'd change his mind. Instead, Vaughn saw the rage she felt, and continued to hold her tightly. She, however, melted at his strong gaze. He began to carry her away, though she struggled at his movement.
You will tell us, you son of a bitch, she spat at Sloane before she finally collapsed completely in Vaughn's arms. He carried her all the way back to his office, despite disapproving stares from other agents and worried looks from Weiss, Dixon, and Marshall in particular. He finally sat her down in his chair and went back to shut the door. He came back and squatted down on the ground next to her.
You want to talk? he asked her quietly.
At first she didn't answer, and Vaughn sighed and put his hand reassuringly on her knee. She scared him half to death when she broke out in a small laughing fit. Why is it that bad luck always comes in threes? He wasn't sure if this question was rhetorical, so he remained silent. First you were shot, then your proposal was interrupted, now my dad is missing. At least we know things can only get better from here. He looked deeply into her eyes and saw that she only believed herself halfheartedly. She finally returned his gaze. If you don't mind, Michael, could I just be alone for a while?
He nodded, gave her a light kiss on her forehead, and walked out the door. When he closed it behind him, he leaned against it and rubbed his temples. After a few seconds he realized that he should tell Kendall that they know Jack was with Sark, wherever that might be.
* * * * * * *
Jack Bristow felt a sharp, painful twinge in his shoulder and he slowly opened his eyes. He went to rub his eyes, but found his wrists, ankles, and abdomen were all strapped tightly the his chair. A small groan escaped as she yearned to rub his sore shoulder. Now he was fully awake, and he slowly speculated his surroundings. He was in a miniscule windowless room, with one flickering florescent light. The air smelled dank and musky, and made Jack feel dizzy. But worst of all, Jack found he was attached to machines of all sorts, all of which he assumed would be and may have already been used as torture devices. He shuddered at the thought.
His disturbing thoughts were broken when he heard the noise of the doorknob twist. The light brown door on the other side of the small room opened with squeaky hinges, though no one appeared in the doorway. He sighed heavily, as had expected someone to appear so he may get an idea of where he was... Or let alone who had him.
He pulled away from the chair as much as he could, struggling against the thick leather strap at his chest. He only managed to pull away a few centimeters. As the strap seemed to become tighter, he dropped the idea of catching a glimpse outside the room. All he had seen was an empty, windowless hallway with yellow dingy walls.
The cell phone at his hip vibrated. Immediately out of instinct he tried to lift his hand to it, yet another strap would not permit him to. He glanced at his watch nervously. How long had he been here? He could barely recollect how he got to where he was. He was on his mission in Los Angeles in the morning, which he had completed. Wait, did he complete it? Now everything was too fuzzy to recall. The last thing he remembered...
~Flashback~
He took a seat in the thin, metal-framed chair across the table from Harold Belinski; whom he would soon be pumping information out of. Mr. Belinski sat with his toe nervously tapping in a steady stream on the ground. His round glasses were slowly sliding down the bridge of his nose, and he quickly brushed a longer strand of gray hair out of his eyes. He believed he was meeting with a Mr. Reginald Montgomery, whom would be selling him airplane parts.
Do you prefer three blade propellers, or two, Mr. Belinski? Jack asked him casually, sipping his wine. The restaurant his had decided to meet at was shabby, he thought, and served bitter wine. But he was playing a man without such a refined taste as Jack had, so he acted along. Though, may I add, I find my selection of three blades more appealing. I brought some in the back of my truck, if you would like to see.
Mr. Belinski pushed his glasses up his nose. Yes, I p-prefer th-three blade propellers, he managed to stutter. May I s-see them? Little did he know, he wouldn't be looking at three blade propellers; Jack would be pushing him for information on Sark's whereabouts.
Jack pretended to look excited by Mr. Belinski's decision. Follow me, sir, he whispered kindly as he stood up from his seat, and proceeded to lead him outside. Just as he was leaving, a young blonde waiter caught his eye. He seemed vaguely familiar... though he never got a proper view of his face.
Once finding a tall SUV and walking behind it – out of view – he slammed Belinski against the car. You know very well that I'm not trying to sell you any three blade propellers, he hissed as he pushed the small man to the car door.
Suddenly, Jack found it strange that Belinski would be smiling at a time like this, but he was, however. He heard fast-paced footsteps behind him, and suddenly a blonde someone in a waiter's uniform punched his face. The last glimpse of anything before he hit the ground, was indeed Sark.
~End flashback~
Of course, it had been Sark, though at the time he hadn't made any connection with him. Damn! If only he knew where he was, and could contact the CIA. However, there was no way he could get to his phone. Suddenly, the florescent light above flickered out, leaving Jack alone in the darkness.
For a moment he could hear the shuffling of feet outside in the corridor. Then there was a deafening silence. Again, he felt the vibrate of his cell phone.
The door slammed shut, causing a quick thrust of air to flow Jack's way. Still, he couldn't see anybody. The light blinked quickly, though Jack had his face turned away form the door, quite stupidly, he later thought. The light blinked again, several times closely together, making the effect of a strobe light though only lasting a few seconds.
Yes, there was another person in the room with him.
It was only another second before the light fully returned, though slightly dimmer, Jack noticed. His eyes immediately turned to see his supposed capture. The other man was fiddling at one of the torture machines with his back turned. He noticed the unmistakable messy blonde hair...
Sark turned to Jack with an amazingly evil grin. Agent Bristow, how nice of you to join me! he toyed with Jack. His fists clenched into tight balls as his wrists were restrained.
What do you want, Sark? he hissed. A cold sweat dripped down his temple, running over a bloody gash that Jack just now noticed. He held in his grimace, careful not to show any emotion to Sark. Whatever it is, I won't say anything.
Sark raised his eyebrow cunningly. You've always been rather straightforward, haven't you? he chuckled to himself. Always been delegating all your life, have you? We'll see if you don't say anything... He walked to the machine he had previously been puttering with. He flipped a switch.
A jolt of electricity surged through Jack's body. He couldn't contain his emotions anymore, and he grimaced in pain.
Sark said, tell me all you can about Project Christmas!
Jack panted, but clearly shouted the single word, A stronger jolt seared his body.
Wouldn't you like to rethink that never' now? Sark seemed to be enjoying watching people suffer. In fact, that was half the reason he became a bad guy, after all. Sark noticed Jack's cell phone still attached to his side. Quickly he snatched it into his fingers. Let's just see who's been calling you, shall we? He pressed the buttons, which he noticed Jack was already reacting angrily. A vein in his forehead was slowly bulging.
Sark listened to the first message.
Hello Agent Bristow, this is your assistant, Ms. Lowell. Your meeting with Director Devlin has been changed from noon to two o'clock.
Nothing of any importance to Sark. He waited for the next one.
Agent Bristow... an irritated Kendall announced, I don't know where you are, but you're late for a meeting with me.
Again, he waited for the next one.
Jack, get your ass down here! Kendall ordered.
Sark chuckled lightly as this one. Jack shot him a threatening look, though Sark took no precaution.
Agent Bristow? Everyone's really worried here... I don't know why you aren't picking up your cell phone, but Sydney's not doing well. You've been gone too long, sir, Vaughn's uneasy voice rang into Sark's ear. As soon as you get this message, I suggest you call her.
the next one came on. Sark listened intently to the voice of Sydney Bristow. Dad, no one knows where you are. I'm sure Sark has you. No surprise there, thought Sark. I'm really worried about you, so please, please call me back if you get this. Sark could hear the fear in her voice. Sydney's was the last of the messages.
Hm, Jack. It seems a lot of people are worried about you. Especially that daughter of yours... She's awfully pretty –
Don't you dare touch my daughter! he shouted back, anger undoubtedly showing on his face.
Then tell me about Project Christmas!
* * * * * * *
Sydney, Weiss, Vaughn, Dixon, and Marshall all sat together at one table, each slowly sipping their fourth or fifth cups of coffee in silence.
Sydney slammed her empty paper cup into the table. We've been here six hours! I want to know something. Everyone gave her a consoling look, though she took no notice. It's well past one A.M. Agh! I just wish we could get some information.
Vaughn rubbed his hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her. I'll ask Kendall if we can go home and get some sleep. I'm sure if they hear anything they'll contact you first. Sydney's sleep depriven eyes looked up into his drowsy green ones. She nodded faintly.
Vaughn walked away to go find Kendall, and Marshall stood up and stretched his arms into the air, thrashing them about violently. Suddenly his mouth started racing wildly. Should I go do something at my computer? Because I really feel that I should be there. I mean, what if I get an e-mail or I find a bug, or some crazy idiot tries to hack me, or what if the CIA gets infiltrated, or a bomb goes off, or a hurricane –
Marshall continued to babble on. Weiss leaned towards Dixon. So this is Marshall on caffeine?
– or a Ghostbusters type deal with the giant marshmallow man (*sound effect*), or a real live Harry Potter is born, or –
Vaughn finally returned. Syd, Kendall say it's all right if you want to go home. She nodded. Ok, come on, I'll drive you.
No, no, you aren't supposed to drive, she said, standing up and trudging to the door.
Vaughn smiled wearily at her. You're exhausted. I'm driving.
She first looked at him with disapproval, but found it too exhausting to fight him – let alone drive. (A/N: When they left Marshall was still going, hehe!)
When they reached Vaughn's apartment, Sydney immediately toppled onto the bed, and fell asleep with all her clothes and shoes still on.
Though Vaughn was exhausted, he couldn't help but watch Sydney. He sat on the bed next to her and stroked her silky hair. This day had to be emotionally draining for her, he thought. He wished he could make it so her father had never been kidnapped. He wished that he they could have celebrated their engagement, instead of postponing it as if it were a soccer game called off on bad weather. He wished that Sloane hadn't ruined her life. He wished that her mother had been there for her childhood. He wished that Irina hadn't murdered his father. He wished now that they could find Jack safely.
He wished so many things, that he indeed fell asleep wishing. Though just before drifting off to sleep, he slipped the small velvet box out of his pocket and onto the bedside table.
Sydney awoke the next morning with sun shining too brightly in her eyes. She groaned and rolled so her back faced the window. When she reached to find Vaughn, she found a pillow and opened her eyes. Vaughn was not there anymore. She looked at the clock. 10:45. Vaughn must have convinced Kendall to let her stay home.
Already she noticed a headache beginning in her temple. She massaged it gently and she noticed a piece of paper sitting on the table, along with the small velvet box.
Sydney froze as she saw it. Immediately her headache began to worsen. There was the box, sitting on the table haunting her. She was sure Vaughn hadn't meant to haunt her with it, but he had put it there, and it was haunting her. Finally, with trembling fingers, she reached or the paper, carefully trying not to touch the box, as if it were poison to the touch.
The folded paper had Syd' written on the outside. She opened it fully and began to read.
Syd- I'm sorry, I had to leave early. Kendall wanted me down at HQ. I didn't want to wake you. There isn't any new information on your father, only that we have confirmed that he's in Sark's custody.
Sydney swore mentally, though she knew it was true when Sloane told her.
Don't worry, we're going to find your dad soon. We'll talk when I get back – you don't need to come in to work today. Just wanted to say that I love you.
~Michael
She smiled genially at his his last sentence and folded the note back up, setting it on the table. She tried to ignore the haunting velvet box as she got out of bed and went into the kitchen to make herself some breakfast.
Her brain was still in shambles from last night's activities, so she only made herself a bowl of Cheerios. Just after she poured the milk, the phone rang. She ran immediately to pick it up.
Sydney almost dropped the phone; it was her father. Dad! Oh my gosh, where are you?
I'm at home... but I don't have any idea how I could have gotten here.
Call headquarters; I'm coming over now. She hung up and ran into the bedroom to change into some new clothes.
* * * * * * *
Jack opened the front door to find his daughter standing outside. Sydney first stood frozen as she took in his sight. He looked like a train wreck. His usually neatly kept gray hair was sitting disorderly on his head. His right eye was swollen, and a bloody cut lined his eye from the center of his forehead down his temple, ending next to his eye high on his cheek bone. His left hand seemed to be twitching as it released the doorknob.
At once Sydney rushed into his arms and hugged her father tightly. Jack fully embraced his daughter; something he hadn't done since she was six. He shakily brought his hand up and stroked her hair. Suddenly his mind raced with memories of many of these hugs when Syd was a little girl, mostly when Laura was alive.
Sydney finally pulled away. Was it Sark? Jack nodded faintly.
A... government issued car will, will be here to pick me up, soon, he told her slowly. Sydney grabbed his hand and led him to the couch. He had a slight gimp. She continued to cling onto his hand, allowing Jack to find comfort in it.
Dad, what do you remember?
He paused, then turned his head to look at Sydney, but kept his eyes focused on the floor. He told her about his meeting with Harold Belinski, and how Sark had knocked him out and taken him prisoner. He told her about how he was locked in the tiny room where Sark tortured him for information. He didn't get anything out of me.
What information did he want? Jack remained silent.
He had purposely left the Project Christmas part out. He knew how she felt about it, and he didn't want to remind her of it. He wanted information on Project Christmas, he mumbled reluctantly, rubbing his sore shoulder. Syd's eyes closed just as three CIA men entered Jack's house. They assisted him to the car, where he would soon arrive at HQ.
I'll meet you there, Dad, Sydney told him before his head disappeared behind the car door.
When Sydney reached HQ, she ran through the building in search of Vaughn. She found him in his office, with the phone in his hand.
I was just about to call you – they found your dad, he said, putting the phone down.
I know. He gave her a confused look. He called me before he called HQ.
Vaughn nodded. Come on, he's in hypno-regression right now. Just to make sure he hasn't forgotten anything. She followed Vaughn to a familiar wing of the CIA. The last time she had been here, however, she was recalling her memory of Project Christmas.
Sydney looked through the glass at her father hooked up to wires. It looked like they just finished. She walked out to see him
He looked relieved. Sark... he threatened to hurt you if I didn't talk.
Sh, it's ok, Dad. Sydney had very few memories of comforting her dad.
He went on to tell her all that he hadn't told her yet, except how he had gotten back to his house. I remember blacking out, then waking up in my bed. Maybe he moved me there, or perhaps it was Belinski... I wouldn't know, I was unconscious then.
Sydney pulled him in for another hug. Wow, two hugs in one day, that has to be a record, she thought. But he definitely deserves it. The important thing is that you're safe now, she reminded him.
But now the question is, why did Sark want information on Project Christmas?
Sydney watched Vaughn walk over to them. I don't know...
Kendall and Devlin want to see you, then you'll need a physical examination, Vaughn told Jack. Jack stood up slowly and limped off to meet the two directors. Vaughn could see it was hard for Sydney to see her father in pain, but she still managed to smile at him. Kendall said since we were up so late last night, we get the rest of the day off. Wonder what made him so happy...
Also besides the fact that it's Sunday? Vaughn smiled, embarrassed.
So you ready to go home and... talk? he asked. She knew very well what they would talk about: the proposal.
Yeah, but there's something I want to do first. We'll take my car.
* * * * * * *
Vaughn watched her step out of the car into the chilly afternoon air (A/N: and when I say car, I mean the camera zooming in the Ford Focus' part). He had asked if she wanted him to go with her, but she politely replied this was something she needed to do alone. He was surprised that she held together this well after a long night. Her father would return to mint condition, though. And this was Sydney; who continued to surprise him.
His mind suddenly returned to just before she left his apartment last night – right when she was going to answer him. He'd give anything for her answer. He sighed to himself as he watched Sydney kneel down to the ground, in front of her destination.
He continued to watch Sydney before shaking his head in disbelief. He thought back to when he first felt a strong attraction to her, and he never would have seen this coming. It was hard for him to believe that SD-6 was gone and he and Sydney had the rest of their lives together (or so he hoped). He remembered back to a day when he was asking Eric for relationship advice...
~Flashback~
Vaughn sat distractedly playing with his pen. It was the kind that when you pushed the button on the top, the ink part clicked in and out. He began to click the pen non stop. Click, click, click; click, click, click. Weiss suddenly snuck up from behind him and grabbed the pen from his reach.
Whoa, what's up? he asked Vaughn.
What do you mean? Vaughn asked, trying to grab for his pen. Weiss held it out of reach.
You've been completely distracted all day long. He paused. There's a girl, isn't there? Vaughn stopped grabbing for the pen and averted his eyes to the papers in front of him on the desk. Weiss grinned like a gossiping school girl. I knew it! Who is she, do I know her?
Vaughn rolled his eyes. It doesn't matter. It wouldn't work out between us. I don't even think she'd go for me.
Weiss sat down across from him. No, really, who is she?
Like I said, it really doesn't matter because –
Yeah, yeah, it wouldn't work out. I've heard it. And frankly I don't believe it. You don't know it won't work out until you go for it.
Vaughn hushed his voice. I can't exactly go for it' either. Weiss gave him a confused look. It's this thing called protocol.
Weiss smiled quite smugly. It's Sydney isn't it?
Vaughn closed his eyes and whispered sharply, Damn protocol. I'm her handler, she's my asset. It just wouldn't work. Vaughn turned in his swivel chair.
But we all know you'd rather handle her ass, Weiss added.
What was that? Vaughn turned back.
~End flashback~
And not in a million years would he have imagined what it felt like to be loved by Sydney Bristow.
* * * * * * *
A crisp cool air filled her nostrils as she stepped into the cemetery yard. A cold wind brush across the field, causing goose bumps to spike up her arms. She found her way passed the older mossy gravestones to her final destination.
Sydney kneeled in front of the grave of Daniel Hecht.
I know I haven't been in here in a long time, Danny. She used to come to his grave more often, especially after he first died. Lately, however, she hadn't had the time. This was the only place she felt she could talk to Danny. So much has happened... But thank God that Vaughn and my father are all right.
I miss you, Danny, I really do. Has it really been three years since you've been gone? It feels like just yesterday that you were serenading me with show tunes to wake me up. She sighed and looked back at Vaughn's car. She couldn't imagine what he must be feeling right now... Confusion? Anger?
Danny, I have to admit something. When I first started seeing Vaughn I couldn't help but feel guilty. I knew you were dead, but I still loved you – part of me always will love you. But I think it's time that I move on for good. When I'm with Vaughn, I get this incredible feeling of love and happiness. I felt that with you, too, but it's seems that there is more of that with Vaughn, which is why I used to feel guilty. But I don't anymore. I realized that he is the one I'm meant to be with, and I know it in my heart.
I love him, Danny, and I don't care that Sark's still out there. He has a question for me, and I believe he wants his answer now.
She blew a kiss to Danny's grave at walked away finally feeling completely at peace about her relationship with Vaughn. She knew she couldn't answer his question earnestly without letting go of Danny.
Sydney opened the driver's side door and sat inside next to Vaughn.
Vaughn asked, empathy showing in his eyes.
Not quite, Sydney replied. I want you to ask me again. Vaughn furrowed his brow in confusion. Sydney pulled the velvet box out of her pocket and tossed it to him. I decided to bring it last minute.
Is it ok that I don't say the whole speech again? I'm not sure if I can remember it...
Sydney laughed. Just start at the good part.
Vaughn raised his eyebrows quickly. Sydney Bristow, I love you, will you be my wife?
she answered smiling, her face glowing.
Vaughn smiled ear to ear as he slipped the diamond ring on her left ring finger. Sydney fluttered her hand side to side and watched the light reflect off the diamond. She looked back at Vaughn and sighed contentedly while staring senselessly into his green eyes. Instantly she had no control over her body as she was pulled into one of his kisses.
Finally after reluctantly pulling away for air he whispered, So when do you want to get married?
She grinned and whispered seductively back into his ear, Whenever you can start doing vigorous activity.
A/n: Questions? Comments? Even if you don't have much to say, Review! I don't know if I'll update soon or not... I think I need some brain fuel. I know what I want to happen in the future, I just don't know how to go about getting there. Maybe I'll read Alias: Recruited again. Such a great book!!! I suggest it to everyone. (Sadly, no Vaughn in it, however.) Until chapter 12!
~Whitelighter Enchantress