Chapter 13: Damn, Vaughn's Sexy
A/n: Thanks for your reviews! Ok, guys, school's out and I'll have a lot more time to write this summer. I made it to high-school!
Just to let you all know, I'll be on vacation *without my computer.* If you update and I usually review your fics, then I'll review when I get back (I'll be back on the 21st, but I'll be reading Harry Potter, teehee).
Disclaimer: The plot is mine, the characters are JJ's. But we are all wondering who owns Michael Vartan. If he's for sale, I'll be sure to buy him.
* * * * * * *
She clicked on the link for the name Macklem, Tracy.' She began to read about simple things, like D.O.B. 9/05/73,' tonsils removed 1/14/84,' and speeding ticket 8/22/93.' Her eyes scanned down the page until she found –
Oh my God...
Immediately she picked up the phone and dialed for her old apartment. Please tell me Will hasn't left yet, please, she thought while the rings echoed in her head. Finally Will picked up the phone.
Will, it's Sydney. You want to have lunch today? Sydney bit her lip, for she hadn't managed to hide her urgency.
Sure, Syd. Is something up?
Kind of. I'll meet you at your apartment. Just because that's a safe place to talk, she mumbled.
Ok, something's wrong. What is it? Sydney could hear Will's concern through his voice, but she knew she couldn't tell him about Tracy over the phone.
See you at noon. She hung up the phone. She didn't realize that Will was mid-sentence when she did so, but she felt terrible later. She couldn't hurt him like that over the phone...
Quickly she closed the window on the computer screen, not being able to take in what the computer was telling her. Reaching her hand into her pocket, she found some strength by rubbing the velvet box of her mother's prized earrings.
As the morning progressed, Sydney continued to fiddle with her ring and rub the earring box while she sat through meetings about her new mission to Russia. Finally, just before her lunch break, Dixon pulled Sydney aside.
Are you okay? You seem, rather distant, he said in his deep raspy voice. Concern washed over his face.
Sydney debated whether to tell him. I just really need to talk to my friend. After I do, I should be fine. Dixon still looked worried. Really, Dixon.
Dixon scratched his neck. I'm not sure if I should be telling you this, but I don't know if Jack will ever come around to it.
What do you mean?
Dixon sighed. No, no. I really shouldn't say anything –
Well now it's too late. Dixon, is there something wrong with my dad that he wasn't telling me?
Dixon's eyes averted to the floor. Sydney waited for an explanation but found none. Sydney, I really don't want to be the one to tell you. You need to hear it from him. Kendall called him over to another meeting. I have to go. Please, talk to your dad. And I hope everything works out with your friend.
Dixon turned to leave. Wait, Dixon, is it something serious? But Dixon hadn't heard her, and he kept on walking. Syd shrugged her shoulders and proceeded to go to her old apartment.
When she walked through the front door, it was like pulling on her favorite sweatshirt; the comfort and warmth was perfect. She hated to be the one who accidentally shrunk that sweatshirt in the wash.
Will greeted her after she entered. I already got us some stuff to eat. I stopped by Francie's restaurant earlier and grabbed us some food, because you said you wanted to talk somewhere safe. So what is it? He folded his arms.
Will, I think you may want to sit down. Will gave her a confused look before leading her to the awaiting food in the kitchen. He took a seat at the table, Sydney across from him. He raised his eyebrows expectantly. After you and Tracy came into Francie's restaurant yesterday, I made myself a mental note to run a background check on her. Just as a precaution. I didn't expect to find anything, but... she bit her lip as she noticed Will beginning to comprehend what she meant.
What did you find on her? he asked eagerly, one of his hands clutching the table.
Sydney let out a deep breath. She's been sighted with Sark and Sloane in the past.
If a picture says a thousand words, Will's picture at that moment was at least a million. He first turned pale and looked like he might get sick. His clutching hand, now sweaty, was trembling as it slipped from its tight grasp. He slid back into his chair. His eyes were wide with shock. Finally he opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He blinked idly before shaking his head. No, I don't believe it. I'm calling her.
Will, no –
It was too late. Will was already out of his chair and dialing the phone. Answer, dammit! he hissed into the phone while Sydney sat quietly in her seat. Finally he slammed the phone back on into the base, and headed for the living room. Confused, Sydney followed him.
He was looking for something in the closet, then pulled out his jacket. He went for his car keys sitting on a nearby table, but Sydney got to them first.
No, Will, I'm not going to let you go out. You can't do this.
Will was breathing heavily. She isn't answering her phone, I was just going over there to make sure everything is all right.
Are you crazy? You can't do that!
Why not? he spat back at her. It didn't stop me before! He made a grab for his keys, though Sydney pulled them out of his reach. Sydney, give me my keys.
No. I can't let you go over there. What if she's planning to kill you right then and there?
What's the difference of knowing and not knowing. She could have done that when we didn't know.
Well, now we know! Sydney made a tighter hold on his keys. What if she is still in contact with Sark? Now that she has met Vaughn and me, I'm sure she knows we're CIA. She waited until Will would meet her gaze. It's too risky now. I'll get a team to go tonight. For now, just... Go someplace with a lot of people, where she can't do anything to you. Be careful.
By now, Will had dropped his jacket on the leather chair next to him and he looked much more sober. Sydney could tell he was taking in all she had just said to him. He met her gaze once more. Fine. I'll go to Francie's restaurant, hang out there for a while. If you want, you can meet me later. He smiled at her weakly. I was really getting to like her, too.
Sydney gave him a consoling hug and handed him his keys. If she calls you, call me immediately after.
I promise. Sydney smiled at him and they walked out the door together.
* * * * * * *
Sydney finally returned to Vaughn's apartment after that long day. She was starving, and hoped Vaughn had cooked something. Somehow, she managed to forget to eat lunch while arguing with Will. Though for now, she would be content for a little loving from Vaughn.
She slumped through the door and found her fiancé on the couch watching an old, taped hockey game. He was at the part where the Kings were about to score (Sydney knew the tape well), and she could see Vaughn's anticipation growing, as it always did when he watched this game. It was one of his favorites.
And the pass, the shot, IT'S GOOD! he shouted, standing up and jumping up and down with excitement. He turned mid-jump and found Sydney laughing at him. Hello, honey, how was work? He walked calmly around the couch to greet Sydney with a kiss. He was still in his boxers and white undershirt (A/n: damn, it's so sexy).
Work? Where to begin... He led her back to the couch, put the game on mute, and wrapped her shoulders in a blanket. There may be something seriously wrong with my father... health wise, I mean, and Will's girlfriend, Tracy, is working for Sark.
Vaughn's jaw dropped. Sark? And Tracy? He paused.
Sydney nodded. Oh, shoot! I was so busy thinking about Will that I forgot to tell Kendall. Do you think he's still at work? What am I saying? Of course he's still there. She ran to the phone and began dialing. When she finally got through to Kendall and proceeded to tell him her earlier plans to send in a team, Vaughn had turned off the hockey game and started to rub Sydney's tense shoulders. She hung up the phone. All set.
Now, what was this about your father?
Sydney rubbed her forehead. I saw him this morning... He looked terrible. His collar bone is broken, his ankle is sprained, his face is still swollen from his bad cut, and he's in a wheelchair. Michael, my dad has never been sick a day in his life, and when I see him like that I expect him to jump up and shout, Just joking!'
Except he doesn't joke.
A small smile emerged on Sydney's sullen face, but it slowly faded away. He said he was fine... I can't believe him now. Dixon told me that Dad was hiding something from me. I don't know if it's serious or not, but the way Dixon talked it I do think it is serious. She brushed away behind her ear and closed her eyes briefly.
Whatever it is, you know we'll go through it together, Vaughn whispered in her ear, pulling her in for a comforting hug.
She clung tightly to her guardian angel. I tried all day to think about what it could be. I'm so tired of thinking now! Vaughn kissed the top of her head.
Maybe that's why he congratulated us on our engagement, Vaughn said. Maybe it's because he's crazy now.
Sydney chuckled. I think he was just congratulating us.
Vaughn shook his head. I was so sure he was going to be pissed when we told him.
No, he'd only be pissed if you got me pregnant.
That can be arranged, Vaughn said with a suggestive smile before picking her up and slinging her over his shoulder. He carried her to the bedroom and lay her on the bed.
Wait, you can't do vigorous activity yet! I don't want to break the doctor's rules.
What? We already broke the CIA's. He pulled off his shirt (A/n: AHH!).
Sydney gave him a stern look. I don't want you go back to that hospital ever like that again!
he gave in, pulling his shirt back on. He plopped down onto the bed next to Sydney, lying on his stomach. So what's happening with the Tracy situation?
She tilted her head towards his body. Kendall is sending in a team to her apartment. Hopefully we can catch her and use her for information. God, I feel so bad for Will. I remember how I felt like Sloane's little pawn when I found out. It's just that nothing like this has ever happened before, and I feel it's partly my fault.
You couldn't have stopped this from happening.
Couldn't I? Sure, everything would be completely different if I could have stopped it. I would have never met Will, or Sloane, or you. Sydney sat up, and Vaughn quickly turned his body and did the same. I absolutely hate the fact that Will is now a pawn in Sark's lethal chess game.
Vaughn put an arm around her shoulders, and Sydney leaned her head against his warm, comforting body. We won't have to worry much longer. The team should arrive and take her into custody soon.
He felt Sydney's small sigh heave against his chest.
For what?
For just talking. I needed to get everything out... Let's watch the rest of that hockey game. I have to get my mind on something else.
He smiled at the suggestion of his favorite hockey game, and thought, That's my girl.
Several hours later, Sydney's mind had definitely wandered from her previous problems as she sifted into hockey mode, though occasionally her thoughts would tangent to her father.
During the final minutes of the game, Sydney's cell phone rang. She sprang off the couch and answered it.
Agent Bristow? This is Director Kendall. I have news for you on Tracy Macklem.
Sydney had recognized his stale voice from the moment the word agent' was uttered. Yes. Do you have her in custody? Does she know anything. Sydney was slightly disoriented by the trailing silence.
Finally his voice sounded again. She wasn't on the premises. And some of her belongings are gone. Her neighbors haven't seen her all day.
What if she has just gone out for a day trip?
We believe that she would have told Mr. Tippin, though since that is not the scenario, we have reason to believe that she has escaped.
I'm sorry, I don't think I follow. Escaped? Vaughn pulled his eyes away from the TV screen as he heard Sydney say this. He looked at her expectantly, waiting for an explanation. Sydney had not seen him, however, and had fixated her eyes on a single spot on the floor near the corner of the refrigerator.
Escaped to Mr. Sark. A few members of the team have stayed behind to watch the apartment in case she returns. Although that doesn't seem likely...
Thank-you for calling, Director. He heard him hang up and then did so herself. Still staring at the floor, she slowly walked back to the couch and sat down next to Vaughn.
Vaughn said, breaking the silence, and knocking Sydney from her trance.
A quick deer-in-the-headlights look flashed across her face. Tracy still isn't home. And Kendall thinks she's gone to Sark.
That's not good...
Sydney stood up and grabbed her coat from her closet. I'm sorry, Michael, I... I just feel like I need to go back to Headquarters and do something about this. Help in some way.
I understand. He smiled warmly at her, only to receive a not so warm frown. It's okay, really, go.
Sydney hesitantly kissed him good-bye and headed for the door. I'll try to be back as soon as I can. Promise.
* * * * * * *
Sydney stepped briskly down the hall in Headquarters and marched straight through to Kendall's office. He looked up from his desk with surprise.
Agent Bristow, what are you doing here?
Sydney had suddenly frozen with the question she hadn't yet addressed herself: what was she doing there? I'm not exactly sure. I simply feel I have an obligation to this Tracy Macklem case. I need to do something.
Kendall quickly eyed her up and down. I don't know what you can accomplish by this visit, but feel free to help your father. He's leading this case.
Sydney nodded and found Jack at his desk. He just hung up the phone. she asked in a timid voice; much like she used to when she was a small child and he was working.
He turned his head as much as he could, and saw his daughter through his peripheral vision. Sydney, why did you come back?
It's the Tracy Macklem case. I feel tied to it. Jack slowly backed his wheelchair out of his desk, and turned to face Sydney. As Sydney saw him more and more she remembered Dixon's words to her that morning.
Well, there isn't much you can do. We can only wait to see if she returns. If she does not, then we are pretty sure she has gone to Sark. There was something glinting in Jack's eyes that she didn't recognize; some emotion that he hadn't usually shown to the public.
Dad, there's something else. Sydney took a few heavy breaths of air to gain as much composure as possible. I was talking to Dixon this morning, and he said that you're hiding something from me.
Jack's eyes averted, and his eyes changed again to a different new emotion. Sydney could recognize it this time – it was plainly fear and pain. Yes, Sydney, I am hiding something from you. But I'm not ready to tell you yet.
Is it serious? Jack nodded. Sydney furrowed her brow at him. Why won't he tell me? she asked herself. Doesn't he understand that I could help him? Sydney looked into her father's eyes, which still had the remnants of fear in them. She sighed. Whenever you need to tell me, then. I'll be ready. Jack made no notion of changing his position, so Sydney turned to leave, and went home.
* * * * * * *
Sydney and Francie sat in the back of her restaurant sipping coffee. It had been a few days since she had last spoken to her father about his condition. He'd been avoiding her at work, and she began to wonder if he would ever tell her. Vaughn was still resting in his apartment under Sydney's orders. He suggested that she go take some time for her, and talk with Francie. Tracy had yet to return to her apartment, so the CIA believed she had gone to Sark's assistance. It was near closing time, and things had slowed down at the restaurant.
So have you had any applicants for a new chef yet? Sydney asked.
Oh! I can't believe I haven't told you. I got so many applicants!
That's great, Sydney smiled.
That's not the best part, Francie grinned at her best friend. I had some interviews that I did, like... two days ago, and then I had a few more yesterday. So, anyway, I was really annoyed with this obnoxious guy who came in, and I tried to get rid of him as fast as I could. He gave me this awful headache and I just kept telling myself that there were only two more interviews left. Then this huge lady walks in and sits down across from me. Her name was something like Gerda von Richtenstein, and man was she huge! I had to keep myself from laughing when she was trying to sit in that little chair! Francie smiled to herself in remembrance. But anyway, after that this guy came in. I'm telling you, Sydney, he was the hottest guy I've ever seen. And he was funny. And I told him to come back on Saturday so I could see how he cooks. God, he was cute!
I'm so happy for you! This is your first crush' since after the Charlie incident... Oh, this is going to be so much fun.
Francie laughed. Whoa, whoa, whoa. It's not anything yet. I just think he's got a great personality. And is funny. And so incredibly good looking... Francie bit her lip. Man, do I have it bad or what?
Sydney smiled genuinely. I'm going to have to meet him; make sure I approve, she said, winking.
Oh, trust me, one look and you'll approve! Francie looked around her restaurant. Looks like everyone's gone. Can you help me put up the chairs?
* * * * * * *
After a few weeks, Vaughn went to his doctors appointment. He was found to be very healthy, and could return to work, missions, vigorous activity...' With Vaughn's good recovery, he and Sydney began to plan their wedding. They decided to keep it small, and they found a perfect church that would hold them.
With the wedding plans going well, Sydney appeared very happy. Though her father continued to avoid her. She would only see him at a few meetings with Kendall and the other agents. She was very pleased when she heard he would be overseeing her mission to St. Petersburg tomorrow. It still pained her whenever she did see him. She noticed that he was out of his wheelchair (he had been since about two weeks ago), and his stitches had been replaced with a thin, jagged scar. She would have given almost anything to find out what was wrong with him.
She had finally packed, kissed Vaughn good-bye, and boarded the plane with Dixon. Where's my father? she whispered to him in the terminal.
He's coming later. He had something to do first...
Sydney nodded. There was a silent understanding between them. She knew whatever he was doing had to do with his condition. Lately she had been trying to get Dixon to accidentally let the news slip, but he was too strong.
Within hours of landing in Russia, they entered the old building. It seemed to be deserted, but as Sydney explored more and more through it's hallways she found signs that someone had been there recently. She stepped out of the hallway on the fifth floor, and went through the red steel door. It wasn't locked, like her mother told her. She filed through more hallways and found the bookcase her mother talked about. She found the copy of The Brothers Karmatzov and pushed it inward. She stepped back as the bookcase moved aside and revealed a small hidden door.
When she stepped through and hit a button to close the bookcase, she found herself at the top of the alleged stairs that would lead the the floor that was occupied by the KGB. Found the stairs, Dixon, they're right where my mother said they would be. She was glad to announce that her mother helped her on this mission; Irina Derevko cooperating with the CIA meant she could get more rights for herself as a U.S. prisoner.
She suddenly found herself in a long abandoned area that was once the rustling bustling KGB. Several desks were overturned and papers covered the slate gray floor. It was dark, and smelled quite dank, Sydney noticed. How she would ever find the clue of Sark's appearance here, she had yet to figure out.
she whispered into microphone. She also had an attached camera hidden in a pin she was wearing. He could see everything she was seeing. Where should I start? She turned her body slowly in a circle for Dixon to watch the feed.
Do you see that wall in the back – the one with the big cracks in it? I think there's an office or hidden room back there. Try that.
Sydney did as Dixon told her and made her way through the mess of papers, desks, chairs, books, etc. She narrowly missed tripping over an old typewriter hidden under papers. When she arrived at the broken wall, she began to tear at the biggest pieces she could. After a few minutes, she had enough wall pulled away to slither through, and discovered that she was in a secret meeting room.
Though it was small, there was a large table located in it's center, with seven leather chairs surrounding it. The room seemed to have remained intact for all the years that it had been there.
Dixon, how did you know that there'd be a room back here?
We saw there were some rooms like that at SD-6.
Sydney continued to look around. An old Oriental looking tapestry hung on one wall; Sydney realized there must be a hidden passage behind it. That had to be the way people got in and out of here, she thought.
I don't think anyone's been in here for a long time, Sydney finally concluded. It would be... messier, for one. I don't think anyone had a clue this room existed.
Your call, Syd. Back to the mess, then.
Sydney heaved a small sigh, then turned and squeezed out the broken wall. She scanned the premises for anything conspicuous. The typewriter she almost tripped over caught her eye... Jumping over a fallen chair, she squatted down next to the typewriter. She opened the top, as if she were to change the ribbon, and found a small piece of paper tucked into where the ribbon would normally lie.
She began to read it aloud:
I'm sure that when you have found this I will have been long gone. I've retrieved what information I can from this place and will put it to excellent use. Jack Bristow was of no help. He'll be in his place soon enough...
Sydney's mind slowly surged with anger. What could he have possibly done to her father? She tried to calm herself and continued to read the rest of the note.
I suggest the CIA not try to find me, for I have hidden myself well. My assistant and I will be working on our project. We'd appreciate if you don't disturb us. Arvin Sloane got us off to a good start.
Ok, Syd, let's go, Dixon's voice echoed in Sydney's ears.
She safely concealed the paper in her pocket and retraced her footsteps out to where she would meet Dixon. He was not there yet. Sydney squinted her eyes at the dark rain clouds that loomed overhead. A drop splashed on her cheek, then another, then another, until it began to rain hard. The rain left Sydney shivering in the cold, though she made sure to keep one hand over her pocket (where Sark's note was). Finally a large white van pulled up, and the side door slid open. Sydney almost fell out when she saw that it was not Dixon in the car, but her father.
Where's Dixon? she managed to say. This was the only words she had spoken to him since their conversation weeks ago. She became worried when he didn't answer. Suddenly the van swerved to a stop.
I'm ready to tell you what's wrong with me, Sydney.
A/n: dun Dun DUN! Am I evil, or what? And you're all going to have to wait a longer time than usual because I'll be on vacation for a week without my computer (we really need to get a laptop). I might be able to hand write some stuff. Oh, does anyone know what the name of Francie's restaurant is?
And, by the way, the title of this chapter is just because I couldn't think of a better one. Doesn't really have much to do with the actual plot, but hey – there is that one shirtless scene...
~Whitelighter Enchantress