For all my ff.net readers who were distressed by the angsty-ness of the last chapter because I said that I wrote my best fluff after a buttload of angst… I should probably define "buttload"…

buttload: adj. a whole bunch of; a fic-full of

Title: Chat
Author: Jenn
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: Abgefegt Swept Off
Language requirements (I apologize in advance if myJ: German  German is off… I've been taking it for 2 years so it might be… er… not perfect )
Dedications: valley-girl2, Alias_Fan1122, alli, tessa
Lyrics:
RESPECT- Aretha Franklin
Trouble- Coldplay
Shine- Clay Aiken

Mission Tools: (haha… I'm a dork) w w w. dictionary . com / translate     (I have to put the spaces in between because ff.net will not let me post the chapter otherwise)

Suggested Soundtrack: Go to this site: http : // w w w. michaelgiacchino. com / aliasmusic. html   (once again, take out the spaces)

and listen to "Bristow and Bristow" for the beginning mission part and then er… I dunno… something else for the later bits~



Abgefegt


She walks briskly down the hallway, the slight breeze rushing past her legs as the slit of her evening gown rushes open and closed with every step she takes. She smiles at the guard. "Guten Abend."

"Guten Abend, Fräulein…"

She smiles at him before correcting his mistake. "Frau. Frau Mendel. Mein Mann ist jetzt zu Hause aber er wird später kommen. Ist dass OK?"

The guards nods and allows her to enter. "Jawohl. Haben Sie ein gute Zeit, Frau Mendel."

"Danke."

She finds her way through the crowd, glances once into a mirror hanging from the wall, making sure her coifed hair is in place and using the opportunity to nod slightly at the man standing next to the fountain.

Michael Vaughn turns as soon as she's out of sight. "Mountaineer has confirmed entry."

"Use the coin."

Nodding, he walks over to the waiter, obtains a glass of champagne. Drops a coin next to the wall separating the room from the security men on the other side.

"Drop completed."

"Be ready to get out of there, Agent Vaughn. In 5… 4… 3… 2… 1"

The lights fizzle and go out, followed by a collective "ooh" from the party guests… and then utter pandemonium as it is realized that the lights are not part of some show.

Vaughn speeds through the crowd, not noticed by anyone in the total darkness and reaches the hallway. Pulling a pick from the sole of his shoe, he bends down in front of the door and deftly twists it in the lock until there is a barely audible click.

He quickly slides a paper-thin device under the door and waits for 20 seconds until he hears 5 thuds, the noise that comes from bodies hitting floors, and then opens the door.

Moving all the guards into a corner of the room, he ties them together before re-locking the door and adjusting himself into the chair and looking at the screens in front of him. "Mountaineer, we're in the system. Five cameras on the third floor, the safe should be behind a painting of Boticelli's Primavera."

Spinning to another monitor, he speedily enters a code, turning the lights back on. "Herr Jager, es tun uns Leid. Wir hatten ein kleines Problem aber es ist jetzt ganz OK."

The voice on the other line grunts assent and Vaughn watches as the host of the party stands in front of the crowd, apologizing for the small glitch and inviting them out to the garden for some music and refreshments.

Nodding, Agent Michael Vaughn turns back to the third floor monitors. "All right Sydney, there are three guards around the perimeter of the main room, each armed with tranqs. And an additional handgun. It should be fine."

He watches as she slinks across the wall, her evening gown discarded in the corner of the wall- now clad in the same outfit she was wearing when he first saw her. Minus the red wig.

"I'm not trying to play you."

"We'll see."

"Do you need the name of a dentist?"

She looks directly into the camera and nods, a slight movement of her chin before she disappears from the camera angle. He follows her steadily with his eyes for a moment before setting up the PDA system and hooking it to the computers.

"Sir, uploading the security system to the CIA computers now."

"Copy that, Boy Scout. Jager uses a Bonvinci system but has a Tschievyzc for the safe itself."

"Copy. Syd, did you get that?"

"Yes."

He watches as she takes out a guard without flinching, coming from behind him with an elbow to the head and slips into the room, using the security pass she took from the guard at the door.

There's a knock on the door. "Sicherheit? Warum hatte ich keine Statusbestätigung bekommen?"

Vaughn turns in his chair, fear illuminating his eyes for a second before welcome adrenaline runs through his body again, giving him the thrill he used to live for. "Entschuldigung, Herr Jager. Alles ist ordentlich."

"Wer bist du? Öffnen Sie die Tür sofort!"

Sh*t.

"Sir, Boy Scout calling for… help. Is it all right to take him out?"

There's a pause.

"Go for it."

"Komme ich."

He walks over to the device he had used earlier, turns it over and slides out the little generator attached to the bottom of the smooth metal.

Looks up when he hears the smooth unlocking of the door.

Looks into the face of Herr Jager.

Accented English. "Ah. I was wondering if you would come. But now that I know, I'm afraid that you won't be leaving."



---Three days earlier---



I spun a web, it's tangled up with me,
And I lost my head

Her eyes clash with his across the table, looking up into his as soon as she sees the words. s***. No matter how hard she tries to move on, how hard she tries to heal herself, it never works. She will never be free from him.

He sees the look in her eyes and another little part of him dies. It's impossible to keep track now, he's been hurting her for so long. His whole body aches, though not with any sort of physical pain. It's all psychological… and it comprises itself from guilt and shame. Why the hell couldn't he have explained it to her? What was it about her gaze that unleveled even the most determined man?

The thought of all the stupid things I said,
O no, what's this?
A spider web, and I'm caught in the middle,
I turned to run,
The thought of all the stupid things I've done

A glance at the report in front of him informs him as to why she looks so resigned.

They were going to Germany.

Together.

She clears her throat, measuring her actions carefully. Looks up at Kendall with a question in her eyes. "Sir… this mission has a duration for at least two weeks. How will my absence be explained to SD-6?"

Kendall looks at her with a swift upward glance. "SD-6 will soon find something of their own interest there. Your father will make sure that you are the one assigned to go."

"And how will I be able to dodge Dixon for the next two weeks?"

"Dixon's not going to go, Agent Bristow. This calls for a solo mission."

"A solo mission? SD-6 doesn't even assign those- there's always another person working surveillance-"

"-Agent Bristow… for once could you please trust that the information will come? That all your questions will be answered in time?"

She bites her lip in order to stop whatever retort was about to erupt from her mouth. "Yes sir."

"Good. Now as you all know, in addition to our extensive attempts over the years to shut down the SD-cells, there are about a dozen active and large-scale terrorist groups out there who have major contacts in the United States. Now we can say it's a baker's dozen."

Kendall slides the manila folder onto the desk. "A fledgling group led by someone so unreachable that we don't even have a name for him. The group calls itself 'The Covenant'. We don't know what they do, we don't know what they want, we don't even know what country they are based in. All we know is that they want the SSG."

Michael reaches over and takes the folder in his hands, regarding it. "System Strahl-Generator? What is it?"

"In English, it's the System Ray Generator. With this, they will be able to not only tap into our Echelon system, they will be able to convince any onlookers that the tap is legit. There is no limit as to how powerful and destructive this can be in the wrong hands."

Sydney looks up, clearing her throat. "Who's in possession of it now?"

"A man by the name of Johannes Jager. Our contact in Marburg has informed us of the sale of this generator off the black market last week. We have since tracked it to Jager's residence and," he smiled, "discovered that he's planning on throwing a party in three days."

Sydney looks over the mission specs, jaw clenching slightly at the information on the page. Gabrielle Mendel. Married to Jakob Mendel.

She looks across the table, sees the confirmation in his eyes.

She's married to Michael Vaughn.

-----

"So Sloane okay-ed the mission?"

She looks at his face, seeing his attempt to make conversation. "I don't think I would be here if he didn't."

"Right." There's a moment of silence where he tries to collect his thoughts. "Syd-"

"-Vaughn," she turns sharply so that she is facing him. "Don't. Just… just don't."

He nods, a little too quickly, a little too sharply. "Okay."

They both turn back so that both look forward, able to see the other out of the corners of their eyes.

He reaches out the inches between them and covers her hand for a moment before standing up. "I'll see you soon."

She's still stiff from the sudden contact. All she can manage is a nod before she crosses her arms.

You can try to hide away
From every drop of rain
That's hanging over you
And you can say it's all a waste.
Lost your time in space.
There's nothing left to lose.
Like a broken angel on the ground, like a symphony without a sound.
Turn around.

She watches silently as his familiar silhouette walks away and out the door, leaving her alone in the warehouse. The place of pain. The place of hope. She bends over slowly until she's leaning her cheek against the surface of the tiny table, still sitting down on the crate under her.

Everybody knows
Shadows fall across the sun sometimes

She closes her eyes, taking it all in, preparing herself for what's to come.

In the mirror of your soul
I know that you know, you are not forsaken.
Hey butterfly open up your weary eyes,
and realize it's a trip we're taking.
And the world will turn around again.
And your shattered heart is going to mend.
In the end.

Taking a deep breath, she stands up and walks out to her car.

----

She sits down in her seat, fastening her seatbelt before quickly glancing at the blonde head of Jakob Mendel 8 rows in front of her. 8 more hours.
Hey butterfly, open up your weary eyes.




… MARBURG…

There's a knock at her door.

"Who is it?" It's a stupid question. She knows who it is. The only person it could be at this time.

"It's me. I have your outfit."

She walks over and opens the door joining their two hotel rooms and runs a hand through her hair. No doubt it will be another color within the next hour. He walks into the room, a little hesitative, and hands her a garment bag.

She wishes that she could look at him without reacting but he's standing there in his tux, an expectant look on his face… and she can't truthfully say that there is ever a time when Michael Vaughn is not gorgeous. She unzips the bag and takes out the dress. "I'll be ready in a few minutes. You can stay here if you want to."

Michael nods and she walks into the bathroom.

The dress is silky, a deep maroon that clings and releases in all the right places, comes with matching shoes and a slit up the right side.

What you want, Baby I got it.

Takes her curling iron and plugs it in.

What you need, you know I got it.

Slips on the shoes, careful not to step on the bottom of her dress.

All I'm asking, is for a little respect
when you come home.
Yeah, Baby.
When you come home

0

"Michael?"

He looks up from the television, unable to stop the slight smile that comes over his face when he sees her in the doorway. He picked the perfect dress. "You look beautiful, Sydney."

"You… you look really pretty."

She flushes, forcing herself to ignore the sudden panic that comes over her as the memory hits. "Thanks."

"Did you call the car?"

"Jawohl, mein Liebling," he smiles a little and offers his arm, "Kann ich dich zum Auto eskortieren?"

She tells herself that it's all right because they're in character.
That it's normal and natural for her to take his arm.
For her to look at him like she loves him.
For her to act like she's his wife.
Because she's Gabrielle Mendel.
And Gabrielle is allowed to love this man.

"Danke… so you're going to go in first right?"

"Yeah. Let me know when you're in okay?"

She nods, hearing his earnestness.

"And be careful."

She smiles softly. "I always am."
If only on missions.

~:~

She walks briskly down the hallway, the slight breeze rushing past her legs as the slit of her evening gown rushes open and closed with every step she takes. She smiles at the guard. "Guten Abend."













tbc…


more?


okay okay... i know i know... it's really different... it's really weird... and I'm not entirely sure why I did it and I don't think that I even like it that much... the only reason I'm posting this JJ-esque plot change is because I'm too lazy to change it.

So I'm sorry if it sucks... i'm not going to delete it... but I'll try to salvage what there might be left to salvage

-jenn