It took a few days, but here's the next installment! ENJOY!


Vaughn sighed loudly, his arms frozen at his sides. He remembered literally twisting Eric's arm to get her address, though he wasn't sure how he'd acquired the means to get here. He looked back toward the street. His car was not sitting there, so he assumed he must have taken a cab... or perhaps the bus. He shook his head. The mode of transportation did not matter; he was here standing on Sydney's doorstep. It seemed like only days had passed since the last time he had seen her, when in reality, it had been two years. He knew that Sydney was probably married. He had realized that as soon as Jack had told him she was pregnant. He knew this because Sydney wasn't the irresponsible type. She definitely would not have gotten pregnant unless she was starting a family with a man she loved.

These thoughts saddened and angered him all at once. He was not angry with Sydney for moving on. He understood it, although he was not sure he'd ever accept it. How could a person ever accept that they missed two years of a life they had planned on spending with Sydney Bristow?

Enough of this, he thought, just knock on the door. So he did. He waited for a few moments, and soon impatience got the best of him. He turned on his heel, walking down the steps in front of the door.

"Vaughn?"

He recognized her voice immediately, but hesitated to turn around. He closed his eyes, pushing away all emotion he felt, took a deep breath and slowly turned to her. All his efforts to remain calm were futile.

There she stood in the doorway. She was as beautiful as he had remembered, maybe even more so. He assessed that she was six, maybe seven months pregnant. A radiant glow surrounded her face, her eyes bright, her smile genuine. Tears were in her eyes, her bottom lip trembling, but she remained in her spot, not wanting to make a wrong move. He recognized her hesitation, and immediately loved her more for it. She had always cared more about him than herself.

"Syd," he spoke, voice trembling. Tears began to stream down his face. He ignored any rational thought and ran to embrace her. When he took off, she met him and they stood in a tight embrace for what felt like an eternity.

"Vaughn, I can't believe it..." she spoke, looking up at him, "they found a body. God, Vaughn...I'm so sorry," he followed her eyes to her stomach. He shook his head violently.

"Syd, don't apologize for moving on, for having a child...I was dead," he said, looking in here eyes. She turned away from him for a moment, wiping tears from her face. She put her hands on her hips.

"Vaughn, aren't you angry? I mean, God, you must be angry...I would be...livid," she stated, her voice nearly inaudible. He sighed, leading her to sit down next to him on her front steps.

"I'm angry at the circumstances, at whoever did this to me. I'm not angry at you," he said. She looked at him for a few moments. She seemed to be taking in his face, memorizing every feature as she had done years before. She began to cry again; how could she have forgotten his face already? It had only been two years. He draped an arm around her shoulder as he had done many times before and they sat in silence for a few more moments. She wordlessly stood up, slowly of course. He took her outstretched hand and followed her into the house.

"Would you like something to drink?" she asked, still wiping away tears.

"Yes, that would be great," he started to tell her what he would like, but she nodded her head and traipsed into the kitchen. She knew what he wanted.

He looked around what was obviously the living room and took a seat on a burgundy couch. He heard sounds of opening cabinets in the kitchen and smiled at the thought of Sydney once again. She was still very much the same...that comforted him. Now, obviously the bulge on her stomach was significantly different, but there were other subtle changes. Her hair seemed darker and it was now shoulder length. She was wearing a different scent, something that smelled more natural than the floral scent that he had previously committed to memory.

He was snapped out of his second set of observations when he heard a foreign noise, not coming from the kitchen. His CIA instincts immediately kicked in as he stood up to investigate. He followed the racket which consisted of (what sounded like) metal objects being thrown. He came to the door that it was coming from, hesitating a moment before he stepped inside. He opened the door carefully, relieved when it made no sound. He was in the garage. The hood of a car was propped up, and a man stood in front of it, his back to Vaughn. The man was tinkering with something; Vaughn did not like it. The man must have realized he was no longer alone, for he suddenly turned around. Vaughn gasped.

"Sark," he hissed. Springing into action, he flew across the room, grabbing Sark by the neck, slamming his head against a nearby table.

"What do you think you're doing?" he shouted, "I know you were not just sabotaging her car. I will kill you, you..."

"Mr. Vaughn," Sark spoke "I assure you, I was doing nothing of the sort," he managed, gasping for air. Vaughn immediately grew defensive. Not only was the man trying to hurt Sydney; he had the gall to deny it. Vaughn pulled out a gun and pointed it at Sark's head. Sark's eyes widened at the sight. And where exactly did you get a gun Mr. Vaughn, he thought.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't shoot you in the face!" he shouted, shaking the gun in the man's face.

"Vaughn!" a voice broke into their conversation, one that Vaughn recognized as Sydney's voice. He turned to look at her, his left arm still clinging to Sark's neck. She was in a state of panic, her hands outstretched in front of her body.

"Vaughn, where did you get a gun?" she demanded, "Let him go!"

What, he thought, Why?

"Sydney, why? This bastard is the one who took me for two years. He's going to pay," he hissed, turning again to Sark's frightened face.

"Look, Vaughn...I know nothing makes sense right now. I will explain everything to you...right now you need to put down the gun,"

"That's what everyone is saying," he spat out, turning to her again, "Everyone is saying that they'll explain later. Well, I want an explanation now. Why should I put the gun down?"

Sydney hesitated, but her eyes remained desperate. She shared a glance with Sark, who nodded, as much as he could in the tight headlock he was in. She sighed, looking into Vaughn's green eyes.

"Vaughn, Sark...Andrew...is my husband," she spoke in a whisper.