"Syd!" Vaughn yelled as he raced to catch up with her. "Hey. I haven't seen you all day."

"Dixon has kept me busy researching a new development in one of the many boring areas the CIA is concerned with. I tried to tell him that researching wasn't my thing. I'm more of a disguise and fight kind of gal."

"But he still made you do the research," Vaughn added.

"Yeah. So, what's up?"

"Well, I was wondering if you were up to anything tonight."

"Why? Is there a mission you think we should volunteer for?"

"No, it's just that Lauren has some NSC mission to go on, and so I figured it might be a nice night for you, me, and Weiss to just kick back and unwind. I thought it could almost be like old times."

Sydney swore to herself. She was getting a little tired of pretending that she was all right being in Vaughn's presence without being able to touch him. It killed her almost every time he was near not to reach out and run her fingers over his lips and through his hair. "I'm sorry, Vaughn. I can't. There's this thing that I promised one of my friends that I'd do with him."

"Will?" Vaughn asked. "Because I'm sure you could get him to let you out of that commitment."

"No, Will's babysitting Grayson for Kaylee tonight. I think she might have a date because she wouldn't tell me where she was doing."

"So, if it's not Will..." Vaughn pondered for a moment. "Is it that mystery guy Andrew that Weiss keeps going on about? Because if it is, you can tell me."

"Okay." Sydney held her hand up. "I'm getting a little tired of Eric trying to dig through my personal life. Has he ever heard of giving a person space?"

"No, I don't think he has."

"Anyway, I'm really sorry that I can't do that whole relaxing thing with you and Weiss tonight. Sorry!" Sydney smiled at him and made her way back to her desk where the dreaded research was still waiting to be completed.

Vaughn just watched her walk away and cursed himself for pushing her. He knew she had to be dating that guy. The way Weiss explained the manner she talked with this Andrew she definitely had something invested in him. He should have known that she would give up on him just as he had given up on her.

"What's the matter?" Weiss asked as he saw his best friend staring in the general direction of Sydney. "You really shouldn't be staring at her. People will start to question how happily you're married."

"And what would be wrong with that?" Vaughn asked.

"What's wrong?" Weiss asked again.

"I was trying to set up a little alone time with Sydney, and it didn't work."

"You used the whole you-me-and-Weiss-can-hang-together-like-old-times approach, didn't you? I told you that wouldn't work."

"It would have work. As long as I could convince you not to actually show up."

"Another con against that whole scenario, Michael. You shouldn't be alone with Sydney. And you know that."

"I know, I know. But I just can't help but want to spend time with her. Our relationship is practically non-existent anymore."

"Whose fault is that?"

"The CIA's!" Vaughn yelled. "It's always the CIA's fault that my life gets turned upside down. First, my father dies in their service. Then they assign me to debrief a new walk-in agent. Third I almost die from a flood in a closed corridor in Taipei and by a biological weapon in the same year. And now they're keeping me from throwing this marriage dow--"

Weiss slapped his hand over Vaughn's mouth. "I know you need to rant, buddy. But you know that you can't finish that sentence." He lowered his hand off of Vaughn's mouth when he was sure his friend had calmed down. "So what went wrong with your genius plan?"

"She has somewhere else to be with some guy who she refused to tell me the identity of. And then I accused her of having a boyfriend and not telling me. Then she tried to change the subject by being mad at you."

"She probably was mad at me," Weiss admitted. "Do you think I should hide for the rest of the day?"

"I think that might be best." Vaughn smiled at his friend. "In fact, knowing Sydney, you probably shouldn't show your face for at least a week."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Later that day, Sydney found herself staring at her reflection in her mirror back at her house. She still wasn't comfortable going to this party that Simon Walker was holding, but Sark seemed to think that whatever was going to happen there, they couldn't afford to resist. The front door clicked open, and Sydney could hear someone enter her house. Sighing, she threw a bathrobe on over her dress while reaching for the gun she had placed on her night table.

"Is someone there?" she yelled right before she darted out of her room and across the hall. If this was someone trying to hurt her, she wanted him or her to think she was still standing in her bedroom.

"It's just me, Syd!" Sark called from the front of the house. "Please put the gun I know is in your hand down. Blood doesn't go too well with my suit."

She sighed and shrugged off her bathrobe, throwing on the bed in the spare bedroom. "I keep saying you need to start calling before you let yourself in."

"I know. It's such a pain though." Sark caught his first look at Sydney. "Wow. You look beautiful, Agent Bristow."

Sydney stared at him in confusion as he broke eye contact with her and left the room. "Did I do something wrong, Andrew?" she asked.

"No. It's just... where did you get that dress?" he asked.

"Well, I didn't want to wear a dress the CIA had provided me and all of my own eveningwear was not fancy enough for what you said this gathering would be. So I borrowed a dress from my sister. Oh."

"She wore that dress on our fifth date," Sark whispered.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I could change. I'm sure there was some dress I overlooked which would be appropriate."

"Don't. I've already gotten used to the idea of you wearing it. Besides, I think that it will bring just the right amount of attention to you. I was thinking that we might need a distraction at some point this night. Now I see that you in that dress works quite well for that purpose."

"As long as it means I get to slap someone, I'm happy," she joked.

"Are you ready to go?"

"No, I'm not ready. I don't think I'll ever be ready to freely walk into the hands of the man who kidnapped me and sold me like a slave. But we have to go, so I guess I'm prepared to leave."

Sark nodded and offered his arm to her. "I hope you don't mind. I parked my car a few streets over. We have to cut through your back yard and your neighbor's too, but it will keep us from being detected together."

Sydney nodded. "I wish you had told me. I may have worn more sensible shoes."

"Sydney, we both know that you do your best work in amazingly high, uncomfortable shoes. Besides, I recall those particular ones." He pointed to her feet. "They definitely hurt when they're being slammed into one's head."

She laughed and linker her arm in his. "Let's go."

The drive to the address Simon provided them was surprisingly short. It made Sydney suspicious of who might be at the party. "Awfully convenient that this gathering is being held in such close proximity to my place of employment," she whispered in Sark's ear as they headed to the front door of the building.

"Are you scared that you're going to run into some of your co-workers?"

"Terrified. But like you keep telling me, the end product of tonight might make all this fear and questioning worth it."

"That's my girl." Sark padded Sydney's hand lightly.

"Here we go," Sydney whispered as the guards pulled the massive doors open for them to enter.