Chapter 4: A Shadow for a Shimmer

A/n: All right, this chapter is, like, the whole reason I wanted to write this fic. Sort of. I hope you all enjoy! And muchas gracias for your reviews.

Disclaimer: Yeah yeah, we know it's not really mine. Except for a certain new person...

* * * * * * *

The door to the storage garage screeched as Vaughn and Weiss lifted it open. He coughed as clouds of dust misted out through the gap, filling his lungs in painful gasps. Finally when the coughing fit subsided, he took a thorough look around.

Well, here it is. Everything we didn't sell. Er, most of it, Eric Weiss said, also surveying the area. Dang, it's been a long time since I've seen some of this stuff. Look at that couch! Remember that weekend when I was house-sitting for you? I had this girl over... Oh, that couch.

You didn't have a girl over.

Okay... So I had Donovan. Him growling at me can count, though, right?

Vaughn chuckled at his friend. Even in the two years he was missing, Weiss hadn't changed a bit. He still loved showing off magic tricks and he still couldn't get a date if his life depended on it. Vaughn was slowly beginning to catch up with each of his friends. Most of them had stayed almost exactly as he remembered them all. Marshall's mouth was still faster than his mind, but he had married Carrie Bowman. Dixon was the same trustworthy, save-your-ass-in-the-nick-of-time friend, and he was doing well as a single parent. Yet Vaughn had yet to see Sydney. It had been days since he last saw her in the airport. He was dying to see her angelic face, hear her sweet voice, touch her soft skin...

Not much had happened since his first hypnotic regression. There had been no new information – at least none that Vaughn knew of – and he hadn't started looking for a place to live yet. He didn't want to. He felt that if he found a new place to live it would mean he was really starting over; creating a new life without Sydney. And that was something he never imagined he would do. In fact, his life greatly resembled a soap opera. A crazy plot, where everyone talks and talks. It feels like there's no real substance, but the worst part is, you can't control the characters.

Look at that box! Remember when I had that date that –

You never had a date, Eric.

I know, he sighed. I was just hoping you would have forgotten. You know, cause you were gone for so long. Never mind, it wasn't working. Oh, there's a deck of cards in this box. Want to see a card trick?

Not really, Eric, it's not the time. Vaughn had just sighted his bed frame and mattress; something he was surprised to see still around. There were many great memories with Sydney on that mattress... Sydney. Why did everything have to remind him of Sydney? He loved to think of her, but he hated how her memory made him think of Corey Peterson; a person he now hated for stealing his love. He was already ruining everything and Vaughn had never met him. A perfect image of Sydney would settle in Vaughn's mind, only to be overpowered by a shadow of Corey. Vaughn could only imagine what he actually look liked. For some reason Vaughn thought Corey would be the pretty boy from your high school, the star quarterback of the football team, homecoming king, with his curly blonde hair waving in the wind... Vaughn knew he had too much time on his hands. Finally he asked Weiss what Corey looked like.

Corey? He's... Um... His hair is blonde and uh, he's tall? Maybe. I can't remember.

Thanks. That helps a lot.

What? It's not like I stare intently at him. I don't even see him that often.

Vaughn nodded. All right, I didn't really expect to have this much of my stuff here. But that helps, I mean, I won't have to buy that much when I actually get my own place.

My advice: Stay in the safehouse as long as possible. Those things are nice. And you have a jacuzzi tub.

Do I ever take your advice? Weiss shook his head, somewhat proudly. Now that I know what I have here, I want to know what Sydney has... He already knew she had his grandmother's ring and his dog. It was really just an excuse to go over to her house... He was dying to see her. Desperateness was taking over. If he went over to her house, then he could see what she had of his, get his dog back, and see Sydney. A decision had been made. We should go and see what stuff Sydney has.

Whoa, maybe we should eat first.

Haven't changed a bit – always thinking of your stomach! Weiss shrugged. What ever happened to Francie's restaurant?

After Francie died, or her double, Will took over the restaurant. It's very successful. Syd helps him out there now and then.

Then that's where we should go, he stated, his eyes filled with determination. He hoped that he might just see Sydney there, and if not, he could at least talk to Will.

All through the car ride, he could only think about what he'd say to Sydney. He wanted their conversation to go perfectly, not that he completely expected that it would. First, he would say, Sydney, we need to talk. She would refuse to meet his gaze, then deny the need to speak. He would reply with, Syd, I know about Corey. This would force her meet his gaze (at least he believed it should), and then... He wasn't sure what would happen next. How would she react? Would she utter a simple, or would she ramble an explanation? It didn't matter what she said next; Vaughn would lean in and kiss her; kiss her like he'd never kissed her before; kiss her so hard that she'd collapse in his arms. He would carry her off into the sunset and she would be all his for all time...

Eric screeched the car to a stop. Sorry about that, he mumbled. Vaughn shook his head from his daydream. What was he thinking? Of course Sydney would never comply with his wishes. He sighed. Two years ago, Vaughn thought he and Sydney would be living happily ever after by now. But Sloane had to screw things up and throw deep potholes into the mix.

Once they were parked, both Eric and Vaughn stepped out of the car. Vaughn noticed that the restaurant had barely changed from the outside, and realized after walking inside that it hadn't changed either. The only difference he saw was a special wall dedicated to Francie, with her picture in a deep auburn frame, a plaque, and many flowers.

They were soon seated and had ordered they're food. Vaughn pretended to listen to Weiss's pointless stories while he scoped the area for Sydney or Will. He found neither.

It wasn't until Vaughn was picking at the remainder of his dinner when he looked towards the bar. Weiss was still telling stories, though this time Vaughn caught something about Marshall's bachelor party. Vaughn allowed his eyes to wander lazily across the bar. A few men in dressed in suits sat with each other, all laughing and buying more rounds. His eyes soon settled on a woman in a red sweater talking to the bartender, who reminded Vaughn of a younger, bald Dixon. But for some reason his attention was captured by the woman with the red sweater. Her sleek brown hair was hanging just below her shoulders in a way that made Vaughn want to touch it. She began to laugh, and turned so Vaughn could see her face better.

It was Sydney.

Vaughn was suddenly aware why his attention was all hers. It became hard to breathe. Every ounce of oxygen was trapped in his lungs; his heartbeat pounded in his chest. He couldn't move. Vaughn wanted with all his might to go talk to her, yet he was motionless in his seat.

She was absolutely gorgeous, and she was within a football field's distance. Why couldn't he move!? Weiss didn't even notice Vaughn's struggle; he simply continued to talk. But Vaughn couldn't hear what Weiss was saying. Sydney was talking casually with the bartender. By the looks of it, no flirting, and no drinking. But she was only saying hello to him. Vaughn quickly found her walking into the lobby, and she was almost around the corner. If he didn't move soon, he may never see her again.

So the stripper takes out her handcuffs and –

Excuse me a minute, Eric, he mouthed hastily, standing up and running into the lobby. he called. She turned around immediately at the sound of her name, not recognizing Vaughn's voice. Syd, I was wondering –

Vaughn!? What are you doing here? her eyes narrowed instinctively to his, but darted down to the ground after brief hesitation.

He was taken aback by her reaction. Her voice said that she was surprised and confused, but her eyes were screaming with joy. Yay, Vaughn! they called. He straightened his shoulders, finding new confidence in himself. Eating dinner... But your dad told me that you had some of my stuff. I was going to swing by later and –

No, that's okay, swinging by won't be necessary, she argued back too fast, shooting a glance into his penetrating green eyes.

The proximity was unbearable to Vaughn. How could she be so resistant? She didn't move, her breathing seemed normal, and he was almost positive that is he felt her heart beating against his chest that it would be a normal rate. But as the silence between them slowly grew, Sydney didn't back away from him. She stayed, sparking a shimmer of hope inside of him. Soon the silence was deafening despite the background rustling of restaurant customers. He had to ask the question he knew they were both attempting to dodge. Why are you avoiding me, Syd?

Excuse me?

I haven't seen you since the airport, and that night in Hong Kong. And we barely talked then.

What's our point?

What's my point? What's my point!? Syd, if I haven't kissed you in two years, we're long overdue. He wanted to step in. He wanted her to look him in the eye. He wanted her lips to crash into his. Yet instead her eyes fluttered to the floor and she slowly backed away.

she began, while he hoped she would say something that he wanted her hear, ... should give you your ring back. He looked at her hand. She still bore his ring! His shimmer of hope was erupting inside of him.

No, that's okay. I want you to keep it. I already told you I was going to give it to you anyhow. She still has my ring! he sang to himself. It took all his strength to keep from smiling. But why did she look so skeptical?

Dammit, Vaughn, you're making this really hard for me.

Hard for you? Hard for you? Of course the hope was too good to be true. The good things never lasted in his life. You aren't the one who lost two years of his life for God knows what reasons to the most evil man in all the world. You aren't the one who sits alone in a safehouse and wonders where the hell his life is going to go. You aren't the one who was brainwashed or whatever. But you are the one living it up with your best friend and boyfriend.

So this is about Corey?

No. This is about you and me. And where we stand. It was as simple as that; he knew it and she knew it. But whether they knew the answer was unpredictable.

She paused, drawing in a deep breath before meeting his gaze – much to Vaughn's pleasure. I don't know, she whispered. His eyes were beginning to take her over, a power Vaughn could always obtain. She was falling prey to him; she would lose complete control; her knees would weaken and her body would beckon for whatever he needed. But over the years she had developed a resistance...

Okay. Then this is about Corey. Soon he was the uncontrollable one. All of his anger sifted out and pulled forth into the void of angry energy. Everything he had been angry about over the last week escaped, and he was taking it out on Sydney. It was something he couldn't contain; something he would have had to do eventually, no matter who he was taking it out on. But it had to be Sydney of all people. How long have you been seeing him, Syd? Are you two serious? Is he better than me?

Vaughn, please stop. It's not like that...

But it wasn't something that could be stopped. It was a tumultuous force in which was unquenchable. He wanted to stop himself, he really did, yet nature had stepped in and replaced his usual self with a cold person, an anger filled person. Did you two ever spend the weekend in Santa Barbara? Huh, Syd?

That's it! she shouted, and Vaughn knew he had taken it too far. She didn't understand that he couldn't repress what he said, nor did she fully understand where all his bottled up anger sourced. But she did understand Santa Barbara, and the symbolism behind it. But he couldn't take back what he said, and now he would have to face the repercussions. You can have your ring back, Michael Vaughn. I don't need it anymore. Because I lost my guardian angel. She lifted her hands together, and swiftly ripped the diamond off her finger and whipped it at Vaughn's chest.

She stormed out of the restaurant while Vaughn fingered the ring, slowly placing it in his pants pocket. He looked to the spot on the floor where Sydney was standing only moments ago. The moments when he still had a shimmer of hope; when she was wearing his ring; when they were having a (somewhat) civilized conversation. But he had ruined it with his daydreams. Why did he bring up the subject of Corey when he knew she wouldn't react like his daydreams? He couldn't even look at her as she pulled his ring from her delicate finger and ran out the door. Had he looked at her, however, he would have seen her tears and the sadness and regret in her eyes.

But the shimmer had pulled Vaughn into a shadow of angst.

In a daze, he returned to the table where Weiss was waiting impatiently. Vaughn sat down without thought and buried his face in his hands.

What was that all about? Are you okay? Weiss asked immediately.

he hissed, and I... Are officially over. The statement resounded in his head with an agonizing bite. Through it all, his normal thought process wearily returned. Could you tell me about her relationship with Corey?

Are you sure, because –

Yeah, I'm sure, he said, gripping the tablecloth in his fist.

Weiss sighed. Well, I guess they've been dating for seven or eight months now. I think they met here. Maybe Will introduced them. I can't remember. But I know he helped her a lot. She wouldn't talk to anyone about anything. We were all worried that she was bottling up everything inside. It was a little relieving to know that finally she could talk to someone.

... Are they serious?

He wobbled his head.

How serious?

Pretty serious? I don't know. Weiss raised his eyebrows.

Vaughn let go of the tablecloth. He closed his eyes for a moment before saying, I'm ready to go back to the safehouse now. He needed to get away from everything here. He couldn't even remember why he wanted to come here in the first place. Everything was one big blur; one concoction of confusion and mixture of mayhem. And all he wanted to do was forget everything.

* * * * * * *

The following Monday at work was not an ordinary day. Vaughn sat at his new desk, waiting for his hypnotic regression appointment. His elbows rested on top of many ignored papers while his head lazily fell into his palms. It was a slow day. Again. There was no urgency in anyone's walk, nor was there the excitement in the atmosphere of receiving fresh intel.

And all he could think about was the fight he had with Sydney. He played the moment over and over again in his head, analyzing every movement, and sound. He cherished the second of eye contact, and despised the uncontrollable anger he possessed. Vaughn knew his suppressed anger would erupt from him eventually, however he never thought it would be taken out on Sydney. Deep regret washed over him like a wave upon the shore, the tide sweeping up old memories of when he and Sydney were happy.

Checking his watch, he realized that he was late for his appointment. He hurried up from his chair and started down the hallway. He passed Marshall typing away at his computer and Dixon reading something off the screen. He passed Weiss discussing something with Carrie Flinkman. He passed Jack Bristow in the hallway (with an odd sense that he was giving Vaughn another sympathetic stare). He passed Director Kendall talking at the corner with a woman. He passed Director Kendall talking at the corner with Sydney.

He almost tripped. It was Sydney. Here. At work? She must have returned. This morning? That was the only explanation. She took no notice of Vaughn, somewhat to his relief. He had started to speed walk awkwardly away, and the sight of him moving looked rather peculiar. As soon as she was out of sight he leaned against the wall to pause and breathe. He was just outside Dr. Kerr's office. It had to be Sydney, he thought. Had he not seen her, his head wouldn't be a jumbled mess. It was already a place hard to concentrate, with him constantly reminded of their fight. Now seeing her countered all the anger he had inside him before. Just the sight of her was enough to make him want forgiveness. But no! He was mad at her! He wasn't supposed to want her back now. Except that he wanted her more than ever...

Michael, you're late, Dr. Kerr said, poking her head out of the door. He nodded and followed her inside, and immediately made his way to the leather chair. Dr. Kerr hooked him up to the electrodes, and said. All right, you know the drill. Tell me where you are after I count backwards from three. Three... Two... One...

He opened his eyes, finding himself in the usual hospital like bed, his wrists, legs, and torso bound with leather straps. Calluses were forming under their tight grasp, and much of the physical pain had subsided, however a headache was coming on.

The door at his right opened, and he prepared himself for Sloane or Irina to enter the room. His eyes widened as Sydney stepped inside. She wore a red sweater...

You can have your ring back, Michael Vaughn. I don't need it anymore. Because I lost my guardian angel, she said, tearing the diamond ring from her finger and chucking it at Vaughn's chest.

Vaughn opened his real eyes, glad to be back in Dr. Kerr's office. She looked at him sternly. she sighed.

I know, I know, just let me concentrate harder.

Three... Two... One...

Again he opened his eyes in the same room, on the same bed. The door clicked open once more, and instead of Sydney, out came Sloane. It's done, he said, with a twist of excitement.

What is?

Sloane simply laughed. We've finished it, he delighted, because I lost my guardian angel. His usual vile voice had changed mis sentence to a sugary sweet voice; that of which belonged to Sydney.

He found himself back in Dr. Kerr's office. I'm really sorry, Dr. Kerr.

We'll try again tomorrow. In the meantime, Michael, I suggest you do whatever you can to clear your head. She raised her eyebrows, and he nodded.

As he exited the office, he missed her flash a quick smile, and he began to wander aimlessly through the halls. Would Sydney still be here? He wasn't sure if her presence would be a good thing. But he knew that if he was going to clear his head before tomorrow, that he needed to fix things with Sydney. He wasn't going to be able to take it much longer. Just the thought of her being angry with him... He couldn't stand it.

He sat down at his desk again, leaning back in deep concentration. Soon, he found himself analyzing their fight again. Her mixture of emotions confused him so much. She seemed surprised to see him, yet her eyes were glad. And then the eye contact moment... What had she said before the eye contact? Oh yes, that he shouldn't swing by. But why shouldn't he? He had every right to go see her or Will. Even Donovan. He could get back his dog. At least he would have something to look forward to after work besides a new episode of a TV show. It was settled then. After work, he would head to Sydney's apartment and get his dog back.

It was a simple affair, and an easy cover, but could he bring himself to drive to Sydney's house? After all, the last time he was there, he disappeared for two years.

* * * * * * *

He turned off the ignition. How long had he been sitting in front of Sydney's apartment? He couldn't tell. But Vaughn needed to work up his courage and knock on her door. A battle commenced in his head: to knock, talk to Sydney and possibly work things out, or coward out, go home, and solve nothing. He knew the obvious choice – it was the road less traveled – yet he also knew which one he'd rather take.

Sighing, he opened the door and stepped out. He locked the door and started up the path to Sydney's front door. Not much of the exterior of the house had changed. He was sure the inside would be different, what with all the fighting that Francie's clone and Sydney did. He wondered how both Will and Sydney could still live there after all that happened...

His finger was mere centimeters away from the doorbell when suddenly the door swung open, and Will's face appeared through the growing crack. Syd's asleep, he said, I don't want to wake her. She doesn't get to sleep much these days...

Will remained standing in the door. He didn't ask Vaughn inside, nor did he open it more than his body width. Vaughn started. His plan managed to fail somehow. Sydney wasn't supposed to be asleep! She was supposed to be at the door, and they were supposed to forgive each other. And then she would dump Corey and live happily ever after with Vaughn. The end!

Alas, no. Kinks were always thrown in the mix; wrinkles were always in the blanket of life. They were also the reason why there were Plan B's. Could you tell her that... That I'm sorry for everything I said at the restaurant? That would have to do.

he flipped his head urgently behind him, then checked his watch. Look, why don't you come back around seven, all right?

Vaughn said, somewhat unsure. He planned to interrogate further, but Will closed the door in his face in a rush. Vaughn blinked in shock. Why did Will just do that? Maybe the accident that he and Francie's clone were involved him had somehow affected his brain. Or maybe, Will didn't want to talk to Vaughn because Sydney didn't want to talk to him. No, that was too juvenile a game for them to be playing. He sighed. Everything was so confusing right now, and all he wanted to do was clear his head.

Without thought, he slipped into his car and began to drive, unaware of where it was taking him until he was parked. He found himself at the pier. Stepping out of his car, he went to the railing, allowing the cool March breeze to whip across his face. Every aspect of his life confused him. Absolutely everything. Inside he was screaming, and he wanted to scream on the outside; to let everybody hear his pain. He had no one to comfort him, and the one person he wanted comfort from refused to speak with him.

Why couldn't it all be different? Why did this have to happen to him? Had he not been taken, so many things in his life would be better. He could have helped Sydney through her time in the hospital, been with her for her recovery, and helped her deal with losing Francie. Even just to be there while Will recovered would have helped. His relationship with Sydney would have blossomed to something even greater than what it had been. They would have gone to Santa Barbara together, gone to that great restaurant – he couldn't even recall the name now – seen that giraffe with the crooked neck, they would have revealed their love for one another... Hell, he and Sydney could have even been married by now. Married. Perhaps they would have had kids, too, and of course Donovan. The American Dream.

Had he not been taken, Sydney never would have tried to escape from her hospital room. She never would have been tortured. She wouldn't be dating Corey Peterson, and she wouldn't be avoiding Vaughn.

Basically, life would be perfect compared to the hell it was now.

He rubbed his eyes, and wiped his hand down the rest of his face. The sun had begun to lower itself across the horizon, arraying pinks, purples, oranges, and blues in a velvet blanket. He checked his watch; it was nearly seven. Should he even bother to go back? Would Sydney actually speak to him? He couldn't be certain.

He pictured the worst scenario: she wouldn't talk to him. Was that necessarily a bad thing? If he chose not to return, then she couldn't talk to him anyway. And they would accomplish nothing. Yet, if he went, he had the chance of seeing her perfect body in all her beauty. The opportunity was relentless. He might see her. She might talk to him... They might fix things between them. He might be able to sleep for once.

I'm going, he thought. I have to go... There's too many pros and not enough cons. I'm just going to get into my car, and drive, and see where it takes me. I'm not going to think about my pain. And I'm not going to think about what could happen when I get there. I'm just going to breathe, and let it all happen. Where am I? Everything looks so different. The scenery has changed, and the little shops and such. I'm in her subdivision. Oh no, what if she still hates me? No, I have to think positive. Stay positive. He sighed. Breathe in, breathe out...

He was in front of Sydney's apartment again, with his car stopped and ready for him to step out. Before he knew it, his feet had carried him out of his car, up the sidewalk, and finally in front of the door. He had no choice now; he had to ring the doorbell; it was now or never. Closing his eyes, he let his finger collide with the doorbell, a muted ring echoed throughout the apartment. Finally after what seemed like hours, a solemn Sydney opened the door. She leaned her head against the the corner, narrowing her eyes to Vaughn's body, but never meeting his eyes.

Look... Will told me to come back –

Yeah, I know, she sighed.

I'm sorry about –

It's ok. Will told me. And, I may have overreacted a little... She looked to the ground, as if for a loss of words. Would you come in for a minute? Please. There's... Someone I want you to meet.

He almost choked. Corey. She wanted him to meet Corey. Was she sick and twisted? Did she only want to hurt him more? Apparently. She was serious. She was meeting his gaze.

For one soul moment, everything was forgotten. All of the old emotions and memories were stirred up, and the love was thick in the air. The air was sucked from both their lungs, and the world stopped spinning. It all revolved around them, and them alone. Finally neither of them could breathe, and she stepped aside. Thoughtlessly, he entered, forgetting that it was the last thing he wanted to do; meet Corey. But if this was the only way he and Sydney could communicate, then this was the way it had to be.

She pointed to the couch wear a familiar, wrinkly dog slept. Vaughn happily plopped down next to Donovan, giving him a good scratch behind the ears. Donovan recognized the hand, and adjusted himself so his head rested on Vaughn's lap. Vaughn couldn't let his old dog get his guard down, however, and he had to brace himself for what was coming.

Sydney disappeared into the depths of the apartment. Vaughn heard Will's voice barely whisper, Are you sure? Fine, but are you ready? There was another moment of silence, and Vaughn dug his fingertips into Donovan's neck one final time before Sydney appeared again.

What he saw next shocked him.

Just over two feet, short and soft looking brown curls, bright green eyes, but the dimples and face to match that of her mother's...

Vaughn asked, in an utter state of confusion. This was the last thing he expected. No, it was something he never suspected.

This is Alyssa Michaela Vaughn, Sydney stated firmly, her eyes focused directly at Vaughn's. She's our daughter.



A/n: Nice twist, eh? YAY! I'm so glad I finally got to write this chapter... I've been waiting to forever! Please REVIEW! Please please please with ice cream and Vaughn on top...
~Whitelighter Enchantress