/N: We get to meet Vaughn's sisters! And you think the Bristows have
secrets? You ain't seen nothing yet!
The woman in the room stood almost as tall as anyone else. She was five feet nine with long chestnut colored hair that was swept back into an elegant twist. Her eyes were focused on the courtyard below her, with the beautiful flowers littering the green carpet outside. The clothes she wore hung on her as if they were made for her but she felt empty. Her hand rested on the lower part of her abdomen and ached from the lost of only three months ago. But now a new part of her ached. She had run out of tears a long while ago, having to identify her mother's body or more likely, what was left of her body. But now, standing in the living room of her youth, she felt all of those memories coming back to haunt her. The sunlight cascaded down upon her as she shut her hazel colored eyes. Her personal life was crashing down before her. Not only was she empty of her baby but now her marriage was seriously on the rocks.
"What are you thinking about?" a soft voice carried behind her.
"Nothing in particular." Isabelle replied, crossing her arms in front of her chest defensively, moving her eyes away from the window and spoke slightly over her shoulder, cloaked in black.
The second woman laughed slightly as she floated into the room. "You were always a horrible liar."
"Says you." She turned around, letting her black skirt flail along her legs. She was cloaked head to toe in black, as was her sister.
"Michael's the one whose the liar in the family." The little sister responded, walking in from the doorway. Her pale features had been hidden by the shadows and as she entered the light, the resemblance between the two sisters became absolutely undeniable. With the exception of hair color, the sisters looked almost identical. Claire had gone through more hair colors than boyfriends and now, was single and had deep auburn, almost eggplant, colored hair. Her hair reached below the middle of her back but had been pulled up in an elegant twist with a few pieces cascading down. She had few freckled dotting her high cheek bones and a little cleft in her chin. Her eyes glowed a warm green.
Isabelle crossed quickly to the blue floral couch, "When is Michael coming?" Her bare feet were quiet against the cool wood floor. She had seeked refuge outside beneath the willow tree of her youth but found it too hot.
"Any minute now." Claire paused for a moment but kept pondering something for a moment. "Your accent is getting strong again. Where have you been touring?"
Isabelle sighed heavily and sunk deep into chair, crossing her legs and throwing her arms over one side of the couch. "All over." She really didn't want to talk about it. It had been a painful month and a half of touring Europe. David, her estranged husband, had opted to stay home while she went off to find himself. He didn't understand why it had been so difficult for her and why she hadn't recovered as quickly as the "women on television." So, she had packed her things up and departed for her early childhood home. Fleury was more of her home than the states had ever been. A week in Fleury led to a week in Bordeaux and from there, she jumped across the pond to England and spent two week there.
"Your accent was never that strong when we were kids." Claire responded, desperate to make conversation with her older sister. She missed conversation with her and loved her more than anything else in the world. Izzy had truly been her mother growing up and she was the one that gave her advice on clothes and dating and boys and other matters of teenage life.
"Mom kept us over in the states so much." Izzy responded coldly.
"And you hated her every moment for it."
"No, I didn't."
"You hated Dad for joining the CIA." Silence. "I know I always have. If he hadn't joined, he wouldn't have been murdered and neither would have mom."
"How can you speak of the dead in such a way? Have some respect! I know you were only a baby when Dad was killed but G-d, Claire!" She rose to her feet and started to scream. She started to wave her hands wildly and she switched back and forth between French and English. "Have some respect!"
"It's hard to! I mean, c'mon Izzy-"
"Stop calling me Izzy! I grew out of that name a long time ago!" Isabelle snapped.
"Fine-Isabelle! It's because of Dad's job that we were all put in this situation! If he had been something safer, like a teacher or something, we would still have a mother and a father and Michael wouldn't have joined the CIA." Her voice hissed the disdain she felt about her brother's job.
Isabelle narrowed her eyes at her little sister and stepped up towards her, "You're afraid that Michael is going to be killed, like Dad." She hushed her voice and felt absolutely horrified at her discovery.
Claire wouldn't look at her in the eye, "What if I am?"
"It's bad enough that he's constantly looking over his shoulder. You don't need to be looking over it for him."
"Someone does." She hissed back, sinking down and glaring at her sister.
They sat like that for a long moment, neither knowing what to say. The wake was going to begin in a few hours and Vaughn hadn't arrived yet, leaving both of them to worry terribly about his safety. The younger sister was different than the other. She was as tall but her hair was long and blonde. She had a different glow to her. A different spirit. She was always feisty and never back away from a fight. She was loud and loved talking, singing, dancing..any form of movement or communication. The wild child had no job and chose to travel about the world, doing odd jobs for fun before traveling off like a gypsy. She had spent a great deal of time in the Europe, especially Britain. But after a recent turn of events, she took up residence in Arizona. The dry air soothed her, or so she said.
The peasant skirt floated around her ankles as she straightened up on the couch. Years of intense ballet training was evident in her every movement. But behind the perky and loud exterior, a quiet, hurt child was hidden beneath. Her last relation, lasting the longest to date, ended in the bitterest of heartache that she kept concealed from her family. As far as they knew, he was a British born banker that had treated her well and then suddenly decided to call an end to the affair. But that was far from what happened. True, he was British born but he was not a banker to say the least. He worked for Her Majesty's Secret Service. Yes, he worked for MI- 5 and was constantly traveling about the United Kingdom and Europe, with Claire peacefully waiting at home. They were happy as can be when disaster struck. Samuel had been off on a mission when a secret organization abducted him and he vanished from the face of the earth. Emily, his partner in MI-5, brought Claire in for a debriefing, explaining what had happened. Claire knew of his agent status due to her father's and brother's status in the CIA. If she had been British born, they told her again and again, they would recruit her. But alas, there was a certain clause in their code that prevented such an action. On the other hand though, they did pul that one string...
"You don't understand." Claire said at last. It was nice to free to move finally without the restraint around her waist. But now being around her family again, she had a heavy chain around her heart. "I wish you would."
"What don't I understand? Tell me. I want to." Isabelle pleaded desperately.
Claire sighed heavily and found solace by covering her eyes with her hand. "There are things that have happened in my life that no one would understand and now, I have to spend the rest of my life looking of *my* shoulder. I know how Michael feels and no one should have to go willingly into that. G-d knows I didn't." The first piece of her little puzzle was revealed.
Silence coated them again. "There are things in my life that no one should ever have to go through. Losing Zoe was the most difficult thing." Zoe was her daughter that was still-born. Not wanting to cause her family any more grief that necessary, she lied and told everyone she miscarried. David was furious at her but she had her own beliefs. She had seen her family go through its period of mourning and she never wanted to witness it again. Little did she know her black garb would be brought out again in only three month's time. Isabelle leaned forward and embraced her dear little sister tightly, releasing the flood gates on their tears. Both sisters, one in her thirties, the other in her twenties, held onto each other for life as they sobbed endlessly.
"This is it." Vaughn whispered, starring out the tinted window of the private car. The IV was absent and he was obviously feeling much better now that he was hydrated.
Sydney leaned over him to look out the window as the black car started down the long winding driveway full of fresh orchids and roses. There was a beautiful white house sitting atop a small hill, covered with beautiful Cyprus trees, green in all their glory. Ivy grew from all corners, covering corners that were not tread on by man. A brick footpath led from the driveway to the front door. There was a sense of old world charm with crackled white paint and overgrown flowers. It was absolutely stunning. The country house was two floors with beautiful lace curtains hanging delicately in the fragile window frames. "It's beautiful." She whispered back, as if afraid to hear her own voice after such a long time of silence.
Vaughn smiled his lopsided smile as his green eyes looked back to her and kissed her lightly. He pulled back slightly, with their lips almost touching. "It's my favorite place in the world." She swallowed his words and pressed further to feel his lips against hers. It was no doubt why she loved him so much.
"Yeah, it's really nice." Weiss piped up from the other side of the car. They quickly parted, a scarlet hue apparent on both of their faces. "Thank you." He finished, tired of seeing his best friend and his girlfriend sticking their tongues down the others throats.
"No problem." Sydney responded, placing her hand on Vaughn's around her waist. "We'll wait until later to finish." She raised her neatly plucked eyebrows suggestively and grinned.
"No comment." Weiss grumbled back, crossing his arms over his chest and started to sulk.
The car continued to grind up the gravel road and soon stopped. Vaughn unwrapped his body from Sydney's as the car lurched to a stop and stepped outside. He breathed in deeply, inhaling the fresh French air that he missed so much. A different type of smile crossed his lips. It wasn't that type of seductive smile that made Sydney's knees go weak so quickly. It was that smile of finally being home after being away so long. It was a smile of finally getting over that homesickness that plagued him in the back of his mind for so many waking hours. The child in him kept waiting for his mother, dressed in a floral sundress to open the aged door and open him in with open eyes as his father waited with coffee in the country kitchen. He turned away from the car, looking towards and house and then away towards the beautiful view of the trees and wild forest below him. Before the plane had landed, he had changed into a black suit. Actually, it was the same black suit that he had worn to Alice's father's funeral. He turned away from the house and felt tears spring to his eyes as he pushed his unbuttoned jacket away from his body as he placed his hands on his hips, revealing his well placed hip holster.
Sydney quickly followed out, smoothing the wrinkles out of her three quarter sleeve dress that reached a conservative length at her knee. Her hair was pinned back into a high class ponytail. She looked picture perfect and the air of sophistication surrounded her. The poise of a dancer was relevant as her eyes scanned the horizon and finally settled on Vaughn.
Weiss was the last man out of the car as he slammed the door loudly and murmured instructions to the driver as he started to drive off. It came out more like wild tongue swears of plain English and CIA code words.
"Oncle? Oncle?" A little voice rang out from behind an overgrown weeping willow tree. A beautiful little black hair girl appeared, dressed in a black dressed that reached beneath her knees. Even from yards away, the smile and the excitement was easy to see. She ran, full force at Vaughn as he slowly turned around at the sound of hearing the familiar word.
He turned around, the smile radiating from his body. He hadn't seen the little girl in months and loved her more than life itself. She was the one female in the world that held his heart unconditionally. She was also the key to many secrets in Vaughn's life. These were the secrets that he was determined to reveal to Sydney by the time they returned home. "Maisie? Maisie!" His body crouched down as the little girl came running at him as fast as her little legs could carry her. In a matter of a few moments, the little four year old was swept into her loving uncle's arms and twirled around, much to her delight. She squealed loudly and held onto his neck for dear life.
"Oncle! Oncle!" She giggled and laughed even harder as Vaughn turned her on back in his arms and started to kiss all over. She was most definitely a Vaughn. Her eyes were a glowing hazel color with the same creamed peach and bronze complexion. There was a delicate little cleft in her chubby little face. The only thing that set her apart was her long dark, nearly black hair that trailed behind her as she spun.
He set her upright in his arms and grinned happily, "Hello Miss Maisie! How are you?"
"I'm good!" the four, almost five year old responded proudly.
"Good!" He spun her around once more, balancing her on his stomach, "I have someone I want you to meet." He took his free hand and motioned to Sydney for her to come closer. He couldn't remember the last time he was so happy. He forgot about the death and the cancer and just focused on the love he felt pounding in his head and in his heart. He swung her around so that she balanced on his hip as he extended his hand out for Sydney to take. She gingerly walked over and took it tightly.
The little girl was overjoyed by seeing a woman near her beloved uncle. She was precocious child who easily put two and two together. She wasn't stupid: she heard her mother whispering with the others in her family about how Uncle Michael should settled down. "I have a tante?" That was another thing that made her a Vaughn. She used French constantly, including the word for aunt (tante.)
He wished. He wished he had come here to announce his engagement to the love of his life. "Noooo."
"Noooo." She mocked him and overlapped him, pressing her lips into an O shape.
Vaughn broke the chain and turned to Sydney. "Sydney Bristow, meet Maisie Marie Vaughn, my one and only niece." There was a deep secret pitted in that sentence that started to jab at his heart as he introduced them. He wanted to tell her so badly but as soon as the words were emitted, they would unravel everything he had ever worked for.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Maisie." Sydney smiled and nodded her head slightly towards her. "She's beautiful, Vaughn." She walked closer to the picture perfect pair and put her hand on his shoulder. Her heart was beginning to swell at the thought of Vaughn holding their own child one day.
"Thank you." Vaughn whispered under his breath, not really wanting her to hear it. She didn't need to know this.
The girl started to grow shy and gripped her uncle tighter, "Hello, Miss Bristow."
"Call me Sydney, Maisie." She grinned and tilted her head to the side.
Maisie curled up closer and starred at Sydney with wide, child fearing eyes. She looked so grave and so serious, much like her uncle during times of stress. She rested her head on his jaw line, "You're prickly, Oncle."
Vaughn laughed causing Maisie to bounce slightly. "It has been a while since I've shaved. You think I need it?" The little girl laughed a reply, instantly returning to the life she had exuded not thirty seconds before .
"She looks just like you, Mike but with darker hair." Weiss walked towards the happy looking picture and smiled but his eyes were focused on the child. "She almost looks like-what was her name? The one you dated for a while?"
Vaughn felt his eyes bug out of his head at the mention of the girl he had dated. All he wanted was Weiss to shut up and forget it. The last thing he wanted to think about was Jeanette the woman he had dated for two years. He attempted to silence him with his not so obvious facial expressions.
"What?" replied a clueless Weiss.
Vaughn abruptly changed to subject by turning back to his niece. He couldn't stand the looks he was getting from Sydney. "You're my favorite little girl in the whole wide world!"
"It's a good thing Zoe's in heaven or else I wouldn't be your favorite." She replied simply, in a sing-song voice.
Vaughn drew in a sharp breath, "Maisie, who's Zoe?" His mind started to race of the possibilities of what she was talking about. Granted, four year olds make up stories all the time and Maisie was exceptionally bright for her age but to find a name for the miscarried baby? What was going on? His exhausted mind rummaged through the possibilities and couldn't think of any.
Maisie rolled her eyes in frustration, "The baby Maman had in her belly but when she came out, she was already in heaven."
"Where is Maman?" Vaughn questioned, feeling his brow wrinkle in concern.
"She's with Tante Claire." Maisie started to worm around, eager to start playing tag or tickle monster or something. Her bare feet were tickled by the day's dew from the lawn.
He immediately grasped her hand in his, still keeping Sydney's in the other. This was the first time in his life that he held the hands of the women he loved at one time. "And Tante Claire?"
She rolled her eyes impatiently, "In the house, silly!"
"We need to get into the house. Is that okay, Syd? I haven't seen my sister-"
"Vaughn, it's okay. I want to see more."
"Michael's here." Claire moved away from the window of her childhood bed chamber. It was a beautiful lilac colored room that smelled of fresh sprayed perfume and dried laundry. "and he's brought that new girlfriend of his." She returned to her vanity and finished applying a light brushing of make-up.
Isabelle thought about this for a moment. "Do you think she knows about Maisie?" She was starring down at her shoes and felt her brow wrinkle in concern. The skeletons of the Vaughn closet. Even though Claire and Vaughn were the closest to each other, Vaughn and Isabelle shared a secret that could destroy all of them. Okay, so maybe it wasn't that bad but it was bad enough that it could destroy all of their personal relationships.
Claire opened a fresh compact of make-up, smelling its fresh smell before taking a black brush and sweeping it over her face. Almost instantly, her face began to shine with a false sense of radiance. A creamed rose colored powder followed and she started to look more and more alive. "I don't know but I almost hope that she doesn't. It'll be much easier to get away with. The only ones that knew are you, me, Michael, and mom."
"David doesn't even know. As far as he knows.." Isabelle let her voice trail off, as if she was afraid that she couldn't speak the truth.
"It's better this way. We need our secrets." Claire responded, knowing full well her share of secrets needed to be shared by the time she went home. She knew the truth about Vaughn but now he needed to know the truth about her.
A/N:
So, what do you think about Maisie?
The woman in the room stood almost as tall as anyone else. She was five feet nine with long chestnut colored hair that was swept back into an elegant twist. Her eyes were focused on the courtyard below her, with the beautiful flowers littering the green carpet outside. The clothes she wore hung on her as if they were made for her but she felt empty. Her hand rested on the lower part of her abdomen and ached from the lost of only three months ago. But now a new part of her ached. She had run out of tears a long while ago, having to identify her mother's body or more likely, what was left of her body. But now, standing in the living room of her youth, she felt all of those memories coming back to haunt her. The sunlight cascaded down upon her as she shut her hazel colored eyes. Her personal life was crashing down before her. Not only was she empty of her baby but now her marriage was seriously on the rocks.
"What are you thinking about?" a soft voice carried behind her.
"Nothing in particular." Isabelle replied, crossing her arms in front of her chest defensively, moving her eyes away from the window and spoke slightly over her shoulder, cloaked in black.
The second woman laughed slightly as she floated into the room. "You were always a horrible liar."
"Says you." She turned around, letting her black skirt flail along her legs. She was cloaked head to toe in black, as was her sister.
"Michael's the one whose the liar in the family." The little sister responded, walking in from the doorway. Her pale features had been hidden by the shadows and as she entered the light, the resemblance between the two sisters became absolutely undeniable. With the exception of hair color, the sisters looked almost identical. Claire had gone through more hair colors than boyfriends and now, was single and had deep auburn, almost eggplant, colored hair. Her hair reached below the middle of her back but had been pulled up in an elegant twist with a few pieces cascading down. She had few freckled dotting her high cheek bones and a little cleft in her chin. Her eyes glowed a warm green.
Isabelle crossed quickly to the blue floral couch, "When is Michael coming?" Her bare feet were quiet against the cool wood floor. She had seeked refuge outside beneath the willow tree of her youth but found it too hot.
"Any minute now." Claire paused for a moment but kept pondering something for a moment. "Your accent is getting strong again. Where have you been touring?"
Isabelle sighed heavily and sunk deep into chair, crossing her legs and throwing her arms over one side of the couch. "All over." She really didn't want to talk about it. It had been a painful month and a half of touring Europe. David, her estranged husband, had opted to stay home while she went off to find himself. He didn't understand why it had been so difficult for her and why she hadn't recovered as quickly as the "women on television." So, she had packed her things up and departed for her early childhood home. Fleury was more of her home than the states had ever been. A week in Fleury led to a week in Bordeaux and from there, she jumped across the pond to England and spent two week there.
"Your accent was never that strong when we were kids." Claire responded, desperate to make conversation with her older sister. She missed conversation with her and loved her more than anything else in the world. Izzy had truly been her mother growing up and she was the one that gave her advice on clothes and dating and boys and other matters of teenage life.
"Mom kept us over in the states so much." Izzy responded coldly.
"And you hated her every moment for it."
"No, I didn't."
"You hated Dad for joining the CIA." Silence. "I know I always have. If he hadn't joined, he wouldn't have been murdered and neither would have mom."
"How can you speak of the dead in such a way? Have some respect! I know you were only a baby when Dad was killed but G-d, Claire!" She rose to her feet and started to scream. She started to wave her hands wildly and she switched back and forth between French and English. "Have some respect!"
"It's hard to! I mean, c'mon Izzy-"
"Stop calling me Izzy! I grew out of that name a long time ago!" Isabelle snapped.
"Fine-Isabelle! It's because of Dad's job that we were all put in this situation! If he had been something safer, like a teacher or something, we would still have a mother and a father and Michael wouldn't have joined the CIA." Her voice hissed the disdain she felt about her brother's job.
Isabelle narrowed her eyes at her little sister and stepped up towards her, "You're afraid that Michael is going to be killed, like Dad." She hushed her voice and felt absolutely horrified at her discovery.
Claire wouldn't look at her in the eye, "What if I am?"
"It's bad enough that he's constantly looking over his shoulder. You don't need to be looking over it for him."
"Someone does." She hissed back, sinking down and glaring at her sister.
They sat like that for a long moment, neither knowing what to say. The wake was going to begin in a few hours and Vaughn hadn't arrived yet, leaving both of them to worry terribly about his safety. The younger sister was different than the other. She was as tall but her hair was long and blonde. She had a different glow to her. A different spirit. She was always feisty and never back away from a fight. She was loud and loved talking, singing, dancing..any form of movement or communication. The wild child had no job and chose to travel about the world, doing odd jobs for fun before traveling off like a gypsy. She had spent a great deal of time in the Europe, especially Britain. But after a recent turn of events, she took up residence in Arizona. The dry air soothed her, or so she said.
The peasant skirt floated around her ankles as she straightened up on the couch. Years of intense ballet training was evident in her every movement. But behind the perky and loud exterior, a quiet, hurt child was hidden beneath. Her last relation, lasting the longest to date, ended in the bitterest of heartache that she kept concealed from her family. As far as they knew, he was a British born banker that had treated her well and then suddenly decided to call an end to the affair. But that was far from what happened. True, he was British born but he was not a banker to say the least. He worked for Her Majesty's Secret Service. Yes, he worked for MI- 5 and was constantly traveling about the United Kingdom and Europe, with Claire peacefully waiting at home. They were happy as can be when disaster struck. Samuel had been off on a mission when a secret organization abducted him and he vanished from the face of the earth. Emily, his partner in MI-5, brought Claire in for a debriefing, explaining what had happened. Claire knew of his agent status due to her father's and brother's status in the CIA. If she had been British born, they told her again and again, they would recruit her. But alas, there was a certain clause in their code that prevented such an action. On the other hand though, they did pul that one string...
"You don't understand." Claire said at last. It was nice to free to move finally without the restraint around her waist. But now being around her family again, she had a heavy chain around her heart. "I wish you would."
"What don't I understand? Tell me. I want to." Isabelle pleaded desperately.
Claire sighed heavily and found solace by covering her eyes with her hand. "There are things that have happened in my life that no one would understand and now, I have to spend the rest of my life looking of *my* shoulder. I know how Michael feels and no one should have to go willingly into that. G-d knows I didn't." The first piece of her little puzzle was revealed.
Silence coated them again. "There are things in my life that no one should ever have to go through. Losing Zoe was the most difficult thing." Zoe was her daughter that was still-born. Not wanting to cause her family any more grief that necessary, she lied and told everyone she miscarried. David was furious at her but she had her own beliefs. She had seen her family go through its period of mourning and she never wanted to witness it again. Little did she know her black garb would be brought out again in only three month's time. Isabelle leaned forward and embraced her dear little sister tightly, releasing the flood gates on their tears. Both sisters, one in her thirties, the other in her twenties, held onto each other for life as they sobbed endlessly.
"This is it." Vaughn whispered, starring out the tinted window of the private car. The IV was absent and he was obviously feeling much better now that he was hydrated.
Sydney leaned over him to look out the window as the black car started down the long winding driveway full of fresh orchids and roses. There was a beautiful white house sitting atop a small hill, covered with beautiful Cyprus trees, green in all their glory. Ivy grew from all corners, covering corners that were not tread on by man. A brick footpath led from the driveway to the front door. There was a sense of old world charm with crackled white paint and overgrown flowers. It was absolutely stunning. The country house was two floors with beautiful lace curtains hanging delicately in the fragile window frames. "It's beautiful." She whispered back, as if afraid to hear her own voice after such a long time of silence.
Vaughn smiled his lopsided smile as his green eyes looked back to her and kissed her lightly. He pulled back slightly, with their lips almost touching. "It's my favorite place in the world." She swallowed his words and pressed further to feel his lips against hers. It was no doubt why she loved him so much.
"Yeah, it's really nice." Weiss piped up from the other side of the car. They quickly parted, a scarlet hue apparent on both of their faces. "Thank you." He finished, tired of seeing his best friend and his girlfriend sticking their tongues down the others throats.
"No problem." Sydney responded, placing her hand on Vaughn's around her waist. "We'll wait until later to finish." She raised her neatly plucked eyebrows suggestively and grinned.
"No comment." Weiss grumbled back, crossing his arms over his chest and started to sulk.
The car continued to grind up the gravel road and soon stopped. Vaughn unwrapped his body from Sydney's as the car lurched to a stop and stepped outside. He breathed in deeply, inhaling the fresh French air that he missed so much. A different type of smile crossed his lips. It wasn't that type of seductive smile that made Sydney's knees go weak so quickly. It was that smile of finally being home after being away so long. It was a smile of finally getting over that homesickness that plagued him in the back of his mind for so many waking hours. The child in him kept waiting for his mother, dressed in a floral sundress to open the aged door and open him in with open eyes as his father waited with coffee in the country kitchen. He turned away from the car, looking towards and house and then away towards the beautiful view of the trees and wild forest below him. Before the plane had landed, he had changed into a black suit. Actually, it was the same black suit that he had worn to Alice's father's funeral. He turned away from the house and felt tears spring to his eyes as he pushed his unbuttoned jacket away from his body as he placed his hands on his hips, revealing his well placed hip holster.
Sydney quickly followed out, smoothing the wrinkles out of her three quarter sleeve dress that reached a conservative length at her knee. Her hair was pinned back into a high class ponytail. She looked picture perfect and the air of sophistication surrounded her. The poise of a dancer was relevant as her eyes scanned the horizon and finally settled on Vaughn.
Weiss was the last man out of the car as he slammed the door loudly and murmured instructions to the driver as he started to drive off. It came out more like wild tongue swears of plain English and CIA code words.
"Oncle? Oncle?" A little voice rang out from behind an overgrown weeping willow tree. A beautiful little black hair girl appeared, dressed in a black dressed that reached beneath her knees. Even from yards away, the smile and the excitement was easy to see. She ran, full force at Vaughn as he slowly turned around at the sound of hearing the familiar word.
He turned around, the smile radiating from his body. He hadn't seen the little girl in months and loved her more than life itself. She was the one female in the world that held his heart unconditionally. She was also the key to many secrets in Vaughn's life. These were the secrets that he was determined to reveal to Sydney by the time they returned home. "Maisie? Maisie!" His body crouched down as the little girl came running at him as fast as her little legs could carry her. In a matter of a few moments, the little four year old was swept into her loving uncle's arms and twirled around, much to her delight. She squealed loudly and held onto his neck for dear life.
"Oncle! Oncle!" She giggled and laughed even harder as Vaughn turned her on back in his arms and started to kiss all over. She was most definitely a Vaughn. Her eyes were a glowing hazel color with the same creamed peach and bronze complexion. There was a delicate little cleft in her chubby little face. The only thing that set her apart was her long dark, nearly black hair that trailed behind her as she spun.
He set her upright in his arms and grinned happily, "Hello Miss Maisie! How are you?"
"I'm good!" the four, almost five year old responded proudly.
"Good!" He spun her around once more, balancing her on his stomach, "I have someone I want you to meet." He took his free hand and motioned to Sydney for her to come closer. He couldn't remember the last time he was so happy. He forgot about the death and the cancer and just focused on the love he felt pounding in his head and in his heart. He swung her around so that she balanced on his hip as he extended his hand out for Sydney to take. She gingerly walked over and took it tightly.
The little girl was overjoyed by seeing a woman near her beloved uncle. She was precocious child who easily put two and two together. She wasn't stupid: she heard her mother whispering with the others in her family about how Uncle Michael should settled down. "I have a tante?" That was another thing that made her a Vaughn. She used French constantly, including the word for aunt (tante.)
He wished. He wished he had come here to announce his engagement to the love of his life. "Noooo."
"Noooo." She mocked him and overlapped him, pressing her lips into an O shape.
Vaughn broke the chain and turned to Sydney. "Sydney Bristow, meet Maisie Marie Vaughn, my one and only niece." There was a deep secret pitted in that sentence that started to jab at his heart as he introduced them. He wanted to tell her so badly but as soon as the words were emitted, they would unravel everything he had ever worked for.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Maisie." Sydney smiled and nodded her head slightly towards her. "She's beautiful, Vaughn." She walked closer to the picture perfect pair and put her hand on his shoulder. Her heart was beginning to swell at the thought of Vaughn holding their own child one day.
"Thank you." Vaughn whispered under his breath, not really wanting her to hear it. She didn't need to know this.
The girl started to grow shy and gripped her uncle tighter, "Hello, Miss Bristow."
"Call me Sydney, Maisie." She grinned and tilted her head to the side.
Maisie curled up closer and starred at Sydney with wide, child fearing eyes. She looked so grave and so serious, much like her uncle during times of stress. She rested her head on his jaw line, "You're prickly, Oncle."
Vaughn laughed causing Maisie to bounce slightly. "It has been a while since I've shaved. You think I need it?" The little girl laughed a reply, instantly returning to the life she had exuded not thirty seconds before .
"She looks just like you, Mike but with darker hair." Weiss walked towards the happy looking picture and smiled but his eyes were focused on the child. "She almost looks like-what was her name? The one you dated for a while?"
Vaughn felt his eyes bug out of his head at the mention of the girl he had dated. All he wanted was Weiss to shut up and forget it. The last thing he wanted to think about was Jeanette the woman he had dated for two years. He attempted to silence him with his not so obvious facial expressions.
"What?" replied a clueless Weiss.
Vaughn abruptly changed to subject by turning back to his niece. He couldn't stand the looks he was getting from Sydney. "You're my favorite little girl in the whole wide world!"
"It's a good thing Zoe's in heaven or else I wouldn't be your favorite." She replied simply, in a sing-song voice.
Vaughn drew in a sharp breath, "Maisie, who's Zoe?" His mind started to race of the possibilities of what she was talking about. Granted, four year olds make up stories all the time and Maisie was exceptionally bright for her age but to find a name for the miscarried baby? What was going on? His exhausted mind rummaged through the possibilities and couldn't think of any.
Maisie rolled her eyes in frustration, "The baby Maman had in her belly but when she came out, she was already in heaven."
"Where is Maman?" Vaughn questioned, feeling his brow wrinkle in concern.
"She's with Tante Claire." Maisie started to worm around, eager to start playing tag or tickle monster or something. Her bare feet were tickled by the day's dew from the lawn.
He immediately grasped her hand in his, still keeping Sydney's in the other. This was the first time in his life that he held the hands of the women he loved at one time. "And Tante Claire?"
She rolled her eyes impatiently, "In the house, silly!"
"We need to get into the house. Is that okay, Syd? I haven't seen my sister-"
"Vaughn, it's okay. I want to see more."
"Michael's here." Claire moved away from the window of her childhood bed chamber. It was a beautiful lilac colored room that smelled of fresh sprayed perfume and dried laundry. "and he's brought that new girlfriend of his." She returned to her vanity and finished applying a light brushing of make-up.
Isabelle thought about this for a moment. "Do you think she knows about Maisie?" She was starring down at her shoes and felt her brow wrinkle in concern. The skeletons of the Vaughn closet. Even though Claire and Vaughn were the closest to each other, Vaughn and Isabelle shared a secret that could destroy all of them. Okay, so maybe it wasn't that bad but it was bad enough that it could destroy all of their personal relationships.
Claire opened a fresh compact of make-up, smelling its fresh smell before taking a black brush and sweeping it over her face. Almost instantly, her face began to shine with a false sense of radiance. A creamed rose colored powder followed and she started to look more and more alive. "I don't know but I almost hope that she doesn't. It'll be much easier to get away with. The only ones that knew are you, me, Michael, and mom."
"David doesn't even know. As far as he knows.." Isabelle let her voice trail off, as if she was afraid that she couldn't speak the truth.
"It's better this way. We need our secrets." Claire responded, knowing full well her share of secrets needed to be shared by the time she went home. She knew the truth about Vaughn but now he needed to know the truth about her.
A/N:
So, what do you think about Maisie?