A/N – Sorry for the delay! I actually had this chapter done sometime last week but during a final edit, I found that parts of it just wasn't working so I had to do some major rewriting. And then RL interfered. Anyway - thanks to the regular readers who consistently review – it means so much! And also thanks (and a welcome!) to those who have just discovered this story. I am so glad y'all are still enjoying this story! I'm also very flattered by those who think that my little story is good enough to actually be a viable plot for the show itself. Talk about high praise! :-] This chapter is gonna contain a bit of S/V fluff because well, for one thing – I'd like to have a little calm before the storm. And for another thing, reading the spoilers for the upcoming S3 has me not happy with the state of the S/V ship so I figure a little fanfic tweaking was needed.
Usual disclaimers apply. Reviews are always appreciated so please leave some. :-]
[ ] denotes Sydney's thoughts
**********Santa Monica, Nondescript Motel, May 10th, Evening**********
"Hey."
"Hey," she returned his greeting as she opened the door wider to grant him access.
"Sorry it took so long," he said as he set a take-out bag down on the small table in the room. The room itself was typical of many nondescript, 'highway motels.' It had a bed, a table with some chairs, a small dresser with a TV on top and a bathroom. Functional, yes. Aesthetically appealing, no.
"It's okay," she said, looking around the room nervously. Since she had ambushed Vaughn on the pier earlier that day with all her personal knowledge about him, the tension and awkwardness between them had skyrocketed. If it had been uncomfortable before between them, it was downright unbearable now. Neither knew what to do and their attempt at ignoring the 'big, pink elephant' that stood between them was only adding to the already tense situation. But since she didn't know what else to do, she continued to play the 'game.'
He cleared his throat. "Uh. . .I, uh, checked in with the CIA."
"And?" she prompted, bracing herself for the news.
"The CIA knows you flushed the tracker so now they've asked the NSA to loan its surveillance experts to find you."
"Great," she mumbled. Not only did she have the CIA after her, she would probably have the NSA, the FBI and other assorted alphabet agencies after her as well. It was like she had leap-frogged to the top of the 'Most Wanted' list in the world. "You're NSA, what do you think my chances are?"
Vaughn sighed tiredly. "Maybe you should turn yourself in. You haven't done anything wrong. You can just say you got scared. They'll understand. I mean you went missing for 2 years, with no memory of it and then had to undergo invasive and painful tests. . .it's only reasonable that you'd panic."
She was already shaking her head long before he finished. "And how would I explain the memories I *do* have?" She looked at him calmly. "There's no way I'd be able to hide those forever. When they come out, what do I say then? And what about Rambaldi? They already suspect that I'm the one in the prophecy." She shook her head again. "No, last time I cooperated, I was gonna end up a lab rat."
"Last time?"
She sank down on the edge of the bed. "You know. . .from before."
"The CIA wanted you in custody then too?"
She nodded. "Ironic isn't it?"
He rubbed his face tiredly before he sat down in one of the chairs. "This is. . . .I just can't. . .believe it all. I-I mean I believe you and I have this. .instinct that you're telling the truth about everything, but I just. . .it's hard to believe. It's hard to understand."
She looked at him. *Really* looked at him for the first time. And she didn't like what she saw. He looked. . .ragged. The creases in his forehead seemed deeper. His hazel eyes seemed to have lost their sparkle. The lines on his face, always barely visible, were clearly evident now. Those lines had given his handsome features some character. They had added sophistication and an air of wisdom to his boyish good looks, but now, those lines simply made him look tired. . .and old.
Suddenly, she knew she what she had to do. She didn't want to do it, but she owed Vaughn that much. She drew in a deep breath, and stared at the thin, beige carpeting as she gathered up the courage to do what she needed to do. What she should have done in the first place.
[It's not fair to him. I shouldn't have dragged him into this.]
Vaughn had always been the person that she had leaned on. He had always been her rock. But that was when he *could* play such a role. And if she were honest with herself, she had relied on him playing that role too much. She could be demanding, selfish and self-absorbed at times. Never caring about anything, or anyone, besides her own needs, her own plans, her own goals.
She still winced when she thought about how cavalierly she had once asked him to help find her mother. The woman who had killed his father. She was ashamed to admit that she hadn't considered his feelings at all then. And that hadn't been the only incident where she had pushed his feelings aside in pursuit of her own aims.
Even though the Vaughn sitting across from her now hadn't experienced any of that, she had. If she couldn't change where she was now, at least she could change things about herself. So, now, despite being in possibly the worst situation in her life, she had to consider others' feelings. Particularly Vaughn's.
And she had to admit, looking at him, he was in no shape to be her rock. He was going through a divorce. His job with the NSA would be put at risk. She had just dropped into his life, literally, and in the last few hours, she had managed to turn his life upside down. And now she was asking him to risk everything to help her?
[No, it's *definitely* not fair.]
She drew in another deep breath before finally looking up. She was surprised to find him looking at her, as if he had been studying her the same way she had studied the motel's carpet. She cleared her throat nervously. "Uh. . .you know what? M-maybe it's best if you uh, if you went back to the NSA."
His expression didn't change but she caught the shift in his tone. "What do you mean?"
"I just. . .it might be best if you weren't around. . .I-I mean. . .with me. . .now." She cringed inwardly at the way she had stumbled over her words.
He looked over at the door for a moment before turning his gaze back to her. "Are you saying you want me to go?"
[No, I don't *want* you to go!] "I think it would be. . .better if you left."
"Better? For who?"
"You, of course."
He rubbed his face agitatedly. "How would it be better for me exactly?"
"Vaughn, I-"
"Because nothing's been better since you. . .came back."
She felt a flash of anger. "Look, I'm sorry. It's not like I had a choice in this!"
"Neither did I!"
"I'm giving you that choice now!"
"No, you're not! You're trying to take the easy way out of this!"
That flash of anger had ignited now. "Easy! *Easy*? Nothing's easy about this! Do you think it was easy coming back and finding out that you were married? Or that my father's missing? Or being wanted by the CIA, FBI and who knows who else because they think I'm the person in some obscure fifteenth century prophecy?"
"Well it hasn't been easy for me either!" he countered, just as angry. "Finding out that you're alive. And then that you actually are some. . .version of yourself in the future! You think that's been easy? Or to know that you're running while almost every intelligence agency in the world is after you?"
She jumped off the bed. "That's why I want you to leave! I don't want to drag you into this any further!"
"No! You want to get rid of me so that you don't have to worry about what happens between us. If I'm not here, you don't have to be reminded about us. About what you remember. And just for the record, it's too late to be worrying about how you don't want to drag me into this any further!"
She winced. He was right of course. Yes, she wanted to protect him, but a part of her was almost relieved to know that if he did leave, she wouldn't have to deal with her feelings or her memories.
"It's true, isn't it?" he asked. His anger was still evident, but his voice was calm and quiet now. "You don't want to deal with. . .us."
"There's no us," she said tiredly. "You're. . .a different person altogether. You aren't Vau--. . .I mean you aren't. . .him."
"'Him'"? He looked at her for a beat. "Am I that different from what you remember?"
[No! And that's the problem damn it!]
She looked at the window, hoping a few seconds would clear her mind. Of course, it didn't. "Look, Vaughn, this is. . .it's impossible, OK? I. . ." She stopped and sighed loudly in frustration. "I can't even articulate it! I don't know what's going on between us so how am I supposed to deal with it?"
"By letting me help," he said quietly.
"How can you help? You just said it yourself. . .you can hardly believe the whole thing."
"So we help each other." He got up and moved to where she stood. "You and I. ..we're both confused about things. It seems like we're the only two people who know about Sloane and his Rambaldi device. So wouldn't it be better for us to work through this together as opposed to alone?"
"I just. . .I don't want to mess up your life anymore than I already have."
He shook his head. "You don't get it. My life hasn't been the same since you. . .disappeared two years ago."
His words caught her off-guard. She could only stare at him as her mind tried, unsuccessfully, to come to terms with what he had just said. "Vaughn, I. . ."
He ran his hand through his hair. "And I don't think it's ever going to be the same again."
"I'm sorry," she whispered, not knowing what else to say.
"It's not your fault." He went over to the window and peered out. He stood there for a long time, saying nothing. Finally, he turned back towards her and she was taken aback at the pain she saw in his eyes. "Have you ever thought about what happens when you do find Sloane?"
"I-I don't know," she said with a shrug. "I guess I either take the device or destroy it."
"And then what? You go back? To the world you remember?"
"I guess."
He nodded. "But what happens to everyone. . .here? Do you disappear all over again?"
And for the first time, she finally understood. Vaughn's anger. His reluctance to leave her. And what he meant when he said his life would never be the same again. She had been so focused on 'returning' that she hadn't considered what would happen *here*. To the world she was going to leave 'behind.' Did it disappear? Did the memories of her here survive? Would everyone have to deal with her disappearance all over again? She had never asked Marshall any of this, and to be honest, she hadn't cared. Until now.
"I don't know," she said softly, sitting on the bed again. "I guess I didn't really think about it."
"I have," he said with a look that bored into her very being. "Every moment that you've been back, I've thought about what it was like to lose you."
"Vaughn-" she managed to choke out before her emotions overwhelmed her.
He came over and sat down next to her on the bed. "Two years ago, when you disappeared, that was the. . .worst I've ever felt in my life. The only other time I've ever felt like that was when my father died." He looked at her, the pain starkly naked in his eyes. "We weren't. . .close then but my feelings for you, they weren't entirely, strictly professional either. I told you I had an instinct about you and the more we worked together, the harder it was to just be your handler." He smiled wryly. "I guess my instinct was right since you and I did end up together. . .in a way."
She bit down on her lip to keep the tears she felt welling behind her eyes from spilling over. What could she say? No matter what. . .there was already too much pain. . .for both of them.
"Were we happy?" he asked abruptly.
"What?"
"When we were together. . .from before, were we happy?"
She nodded. "Despite a lot of obstacles and the craziness of our jobs, yes. Very happy."
He smiled. "Did we fight a lot?"
She returned his smile. Remembering her times with Vaughn was oddly comforting at the moment. "Not really. Sometimes we did. I, uh, picked a few fights."
He chuckled. "Figures."
"Hey," she said, mild indignation in her voice. "You started your share of arguments too you know!"
"Where did we go on our first date?"
"Um, as a couple? Or before we became a couple?"
"What's the difference?"
"Well, as a couple, our first date was at a Kings game." She grinned at his soft laugh. "But before that, we did go on a date in France."
"In France?" he asked, looking pleased.
She nodded. "It was. . .interesting." She grimaced. "Didn't end well."
"Why not?"
"Uh. . .I was still at SD-6 and my father was being investigated by the Alliance, in the form of a woman named Kane. She had sent some of her goons to tail me in hopes that I'd lead them to my father. I led them straight to you instead. Which of course led to a shoot-out." She looked at him and smiled. "You were very cool in that by the way."
"Was I?"
She nodded. "I was handcuffed so you took out both of our captors, *after* you threw away your gun."
He grinned, enjoying her description. "Were our lives always that crazy?"
"More or less," she answered. "But we managed to have fun. Sometimes a little too much."
He laughed. "What does that mean?"
"Yeah, we, um," she stopped, feeling the heat creeping up her cheeks as she recalled that night. "Well, we were in this *really* long briefing. I mean it was the briefing from hell. And you kept looking at me. . .well, you know. So by the time we finally got out of there, we were, uh, a little. . .impatient. So we ended up, well let's just say we didn't quite make it to my room. So anyway, in the midst of it all, we lost track of time and Will and Francie ended up coming home and catching us. . .well, actually *you* in the altogether since I had managed to make a mad dash down the hall."
He laughed. "You hung me out to dry?"
She grinned. "Funny you should say that because Will made some crack with the word 'hung' in it when he saw you then."
He chuckled, even as he blushed. They both smiled into each other's eyes, her remembering her times with Vaughn and him, enjoying her memories. But then reality, their reality here, came roaring back. "It sounds like we. . .I mean you. . .it sounds great."
She heard the pain and longing in his voice and her heart began to ache all over again. This was an impossible situation. She loved him. . .and yet not him. He wasn't 'her' Vaughn. . .not the Vaughn that she shared all those memories with. But yet, he was Vaughn. He had the same qualities she admired, the same values, the same personality traits that she loved. And the attraction. . .that hadn't changed at all. It was the same, yet different. And it all just confused her. . .more now than ever.
"It was," she agreed softly.
He nodded and turned to look at the window. Silence descended on them as each retreated to their own thoughts. After a while, Vaughn finally spoke. "Have you thought about what happens if you. . .can't get back?"
His question threw her. Amidst all this insanity, it had never occurred to her that she wouldn't succeed in tracking Sloane and 'righting' things. But Vaughn did have a point.
"No," she said quietly. "It's never been an option for me. I guess I've always thought that this was fixable."
"But if it weren't?" he persisted. "Then you'd be here. . .with me."
She closed her eyes, as another wave of emotions hit. [God, this is hard.] "Vaughn-"
"Look, I know you want to. . .go back. But back where? To what? How do you know things there haven't changed?"
She got up in agitation. She didn't want to hear this. Vaughn had a point. Several points in fact. But she didn't want to think about them. Being able to fix this. . .that had been her only hope in all this. If that were taken away, then what was there?
"Sydney," Vaughn said gently. She didn't respond and kept her back turned. She didn't want him to see how upset she was. "Sydney." This time his voice was more persistent. When she didn't respond again, she felt his hand on her arm before he gently, but firmly, turned her to face him.
"I'm sorry," he said softly, looking into her eyes. She couldn't fight the attraction to him at this proximity, and not when all her emotions were bubbling so close to the surface. "I. . .I was reacting to the thought of losing you. It. . .scared me. I shouldn't have thrown all that at you. It wasn't fair. You have enough to deal with."
She was mesmerized by his eyes, which seemed to be shifting between green and blue, as if they couldn't decide which color was best for the situation. "It's OK. I've thrown a lot at you too. And you. . .you have a point."
"I'll help you fix this Syd. If you let me."
"You will?"
He nodded, never breaking the contact between their eyes. "If that's what you want, then of course, I'll help you."
She heard the pain in his voice, despite his calm demeanor and she involuntarily reached up to touch his cheek gently. Too late she realized that wasn't the best move in their highly charged 'moment' because touching him turned her attraction into a full-fledged flame of desire. And suddenly her head was no longer in control.
Only her heart. Her heart which had been dying a little inside since she had awoken in Hong Kong. The heart that remembered, vividly, what it was like to be with Vaughn. To touch him. To hold him. To be held by him. To kiss him. And to want him with a passion that was startling in its intensity.
For an instant, her head managed to seize control again. [You'll only make things worse! This isn't time *or* place.] But before she could react, her heart, fueled by desire, ruthlessly suppressed any form of logic or rationale.
For her, there was only Vaughn. Her beloved Vaughn. . .just as she remembered. Standing before her, looking at her with such tenderness in his eyes. She clasped his cheeks with her hands and gently, but firmly, lowered his head to hers. She felt a split-second of resistance from him and then he gave in willingly.
The kiss was different. This one had an urgency. . .a desperation to it that she had never experienced before. But the feelings were the same. Her lips fit into his as if she had never spent a day without kissing him. As if kissing him were as natural to her as breathing, although she was doing very little breathing at the moment.
They kissed hungrily, while their hands clasped each other tightly, pulling each other closer and closer. She could hear the blood rushing in her ears while her body, now firmly pressed against Vaughn's, ignited from her toes up, as if she were standing in molten lava. She moaned softly and felt Vaughn wrap one arm tightly around her waist as his other hand tangled in her hair. She felt her knees growing weak as her tongue tangled with his, and knew that she couldn't stand much longer.
And then she heard it. A distant siren. And just like that, her head seized control again.
She abruptly ended the kiss and stared at the door nervously, listening with all her might to see if the siren was getting closer. But she heard it fade away. She sighed in relief and leaned her head against Vaughn's shoulder as she tried to sort through her jumbled emotions.
"Syd?"
She pulled back and looked at him. She could see that their brief, but highly passionate, encounter had thrown him as well. His breathing was ragged and she could clearly see the play of emotions in his eyes.
"Vaughn-" she managed before the magnitude of the situation hit her. "Oh, God, I'm. . ."
She pulled away from him abruptly and moved to door, as if putting some physical distance between them would help her. But the room had now become so highly charged that it was a futile gesture.
She touched her kiss-swollen lips and drew in a shaky breath. It had been far too easy. Far too easy to get lost in her feelings for Vaughn. Far too easy to just let go and just to. . .feel. She knew there was nothing wrong in that. In normal circumstances. But this was anything but 'normal circumstances.' And now, instead of somehow resolving the conflicting, confusing emotions that she had for Vaughn, *this* Vaughn, she had only made things worse.
"Sydney." His voice was closer, as if he were standing right behind her. For that reason, she shifted so that her back remained towards him. She didn't know if she had enough control quite yet to look him in the face.
"Vaughn, I'm. . .I'm sorry. I-I shouldn't. . .God!" She ran her hand through her hair forcefully. "That was. . .I shouldn't have. . .kissed you. It just. . ."
"Sydney, could you please look at me?"
She wanted to say 'no' but she knew that was a childish response. She had to face, literally, the consequences of her impetuous actions. She drew in another shaky breath and then slowly turned to face him.
Instead of finding anger, disappointment or pain in his expression, she saw only resignation tinged with sadness. Anger, disappointment and pain, she could deal with. . .but this? This she didn't quite know how to handle.
"It's OK," he said softly. "I understand."
"You do?"
He nodded. "Like you said, I'm not. . .him." He smiled at her. "And you love him."
"I do," she said softly. "And you are him. . .in a way. Which is what makes this so hard. But it's not fair of me to. . .use you as him." She shook her head. "This isn't making a lot of sense."
"It is, in a weird way," he said. "I may look and even act like the Vaughn you remember, but I don't have those memories, those experiences. I might as well be a stranger to you. And you're. . .in a bad situation so it's understandable that things. . .got out of control."
"Vaughn, that's. . .it's not excuse." She looked at him sadly. "I should have-"
"Look, let's just say we made a mistake," he interrupted. "And leave it at that. Okay?"
She looked at him doubtfully but since she wasn't prepared to confront her feelings or this situation fully, she realized her best option was to take the 'out' that Vaughn was giving her. She nodded. "Okay."
He nodded and then sighed. "So do you really want me to leave? Let you go at this alone?"
"It's, uh, it's up to you. I shouldn't have tried to make that decision for you."
He smiled at her veiled apology. "OK. Then I'd like to help you. I can't go back to the NSA anyway."
"What! Why?"
"You know when I said I checked in?" She nodded. "It was with Weiss. He and I stayed friends even after I left the CIA. He told me Kendall talked to my superior at the NSA. They know I'm helping you. Weiss said they're gonna track us both."
"Oh, God, Vaughn. I'm. . .so sorry."
He shook his head. "This is *exactly* what I want to do."
Not knowing what else to say for the sacrifices he was so willing to make for her, she managed a soft, but heartfelt, "Thank you."
He smiled in understanding and they shared a deep, meaningful look before he nodded and then headed towards the door. "Listen, I'm going to, uh, get us some. . .gear. And check in with Weiss again. See where we stand."
**********Santa Monica, Nondescript Motel, May 10th, Later**********
Vaughn hadn't been gone that long when the call came. At first she was confused by the beeping sound and then she remembered the cell phone that her mother had given her. Quickly, she retrieved it and answered.
Her mother's voice was curt and business-like and the message was short and to the point. There was no greeting, no exchange of pleasantries. Only the message and then the call was terminated.
"Tomorrow, 9 am. Wait for instructions."