Author's note: I've decided that I want to let each one of you make your choice on who Sydney should pick. So I wrote out three different endings with corresponding headings. Personally, I would pick the Sark ending, but that's just me! ;) I hope you enjoy!

Sydney sat up with a start. Her lungs were struggling for air, and she felt as if she had almost drowned. She was drenched in sweat for head to toe. Sighing loudly, she leaned over to check the time.

"It's 5:29 in the morning in St. Petersburg. And I'm scared because I've had a nightmare," she said to herself. "The silliest nightmare in the world that wasn't scary at all. And yet I'm more upset by it than any of my previous dreams. How's that for karma?"

The normal reaction, the reaction she would have had on any other day, would be to reach for the phone and call Vaughn. He always was there to pick her up whenever she managed to fall. But something had changed between them earlier that night. And she no longer was sure if he was the one to turn to for support, if he would be willing to offer her that support.

She dropped the clock out of her hand as that thought raced through her head. The world must be ending if she actually believed that Michael Vaughn wouldn't be there when she needed him. He was the kind of guy who would be there for her even if he hated her more than any other person on this earth.

She pulled herself out of bed and slid out of the dress she was still in while walking over to her suitcase. "Gotcha!" she exclaimed as she found the pair of sweatpants she had packed. Her excitement went away quickly when she remembered what sweatpants they were.

They were Vaughn's. Two sizes two big with the Kings logo wearing off from too many washings, she had fallen in love with them and stolen them four weeks earlier. They had quickly become her favorite piece of clothing, only because he cherished them so much. And they personified everything about him that she loved the most.

She pulled them on and rifled through her suitcase for a sports bra which she promptly put on too. Sighing she looked at her appearance in the mirror. She was supporting some major bed hair and her makeup from the mission earlier that day hadn't been properly wiped off.

"You are one piece of work, Sydney Bristow," she said to her reflection. "Moping around a Russian hotel room in clothes you've stolen from a man who might never want to talk to you again."

Thinking about the magnitude of what had happened, she felt the tears begin to fall down her cheeks again. She knew that she had hurt him so much. If he had told her that he had slept with Anna Espinosa, she knew she would have been crushed. So betrayed that she probably never would have wanted to talk to him again, let alone see him at dawn in a Russian hotel.

"Especially not looking like this," she muttered as she made her way to the bathroom to try to scrub off the now running mascara and leftover make-up.

The worst thing that Michael Vaughn had ever done to her was three years earlier when he tried to blackmail her to turn her father into the CIA as a KGB spy. And he didn't even go through with that. Then, there was this whole undercover assignment. It was just like Vaughn to try to give up his whole life to find answers. How many times had he risked his job and his neck to assist Sydney in her search for the truth about every single aspect of her life? He was completely selfless.

And she? She couldn't have been more selfish. Forgetting everything she had spent years fighting to have, she had let her body take over for her mind. She had lived in a moment that she had never wanted, never dreamed about, never wished for. That little indiscretion had the power to ruin her whole life. That one slip in judgment could ruin the best thing she'd ever known.

She had slept with the one man Vaughn despised more than anything, and he still had the decency to say that he loved her and wouldn't leave her side, no matter how long it took her to work this dream junk out. That was classic Michael Vaughn, something that would never change.

"If that's not a sign, I don't know what is." She smoothed her hair back into a ponytail and wiped the tears from her eyes. Smiling bravely, she nodded to her reflection.

For the first time ever, the knowledge that she was breaking about a hundred and one different CIA protocols didn't bother her in the slightest. She made her way down one floor and across to the other wing, ending up in front of the door to Room 236. The most logical thing would have been to knock and wait for his answer. Well, at least hope that he answered when he saw her image through the peephole. But she couldn't get herself to pick up her hand and make contact with the door. It was just too hard to do.

"What do I tell him?" she mumbled. "I slept with Sark, but it was a huge mistake. Please don't hold it against me?" She shook her head in disgust. "That's horrible."

"My mother told me I had two soul mates and I would have to pick between them. Congratulations! I picked you." She stuck her tongue out. "So lame!"

"Can we just forget about what happened?" She threw her hands up in the air and started pacing. "Never going to happen."

"I'll forgive you if you forgive me." She rolled her eyes. "What am I, in fifth grade?"

"You're the only man who has put up with my phone calls at midnight, crazy rants, and the unending list of psychotic family members." She sighed. "That's the truth, but why remind him of all my faults?"

The sound of a lock being turned made her stop the pacing and turn around. Vaughn's sleepy figure was silhouetted in the moonlight streaming in from his hotel room windows. "What are you doing out here at five in the morning, Syd?"

Seeing his face and knowing that he probably was too asleep to remember what had gone on, she burst into tears. "I love you," she managed to spit out between soft sobs.

After a minute, she got control of herself and looked up at him. He hadn't moved. His face looked so shocked that she didn't know what to do. He took a step back and held the door open for her to enter without saying a word or looking her in the eyes. She did that, choosing also to stay silent, and sat down on the bed. She couldn't help but think about the fact that seven hours earlier she had been having the worst fight of her life right here in that same position.

True to form, he took up his spot leaning on the dresser and continued to stare at her in shock. She could see him try to formulate something to say, and finally, he found the words he had been searching for. "Did you just tell me that you loved me?"

"Yes," she said. "I know that it's probably coming at the worst time when you hate even the sight of me. After what I've done, I don't think I'd ever want to see me again. But I couldn't hold it in, not now that I realize it's true. I've known probably since that moment you told me about your father's watch and how it stopped on the day we met. I was foolish not to tell you before, and I'm sorry. I was just scared of all the hurdles we would have to get around, and I didn't want to cause you any more stress. God knows how much I've ruined your life already. So, you see, that's why I never admitted it, to you or to myself. I thought it was best. But now I'm just thinking about all the time I wasted in not telling you." She looked up into his eyes. "And that's why I'm here."

Deciding that she was finished with her rant, Vaughn sat down on the bed beside her. "You know that you shouldn't have come here, don't you, Syd?"

"Screw protocol," she hissed. "I'm tired of the damn CIA or SD-6 or the Covenant or my mother or Sark getting in between us. This is where I want to be, so here I am." She looked up at him sincerely as a thought dawned on her. "But if you don't want me here, I will leave. Just say the word, and I'm out the door. Kendall can assign me to a new handler, and you might actually have a chance at a normal life without a crazy spy controlling it."

"I would never tell you to leave," he said with a small smile.

"I know. You're a world-famous pep talker. I learned that within days of meeting you. Always there to pick me up when my life becomes too depressing, which is quite often. You should have been a psychologist or therapist instead of a CIA handler. You missed your calling."

"Thanks. But that's not what I meant. I meant that I would never tell you, Sydney Bristow, to leave because every second I spend with you is the happiest second of my life. And not only that, but you happen to be wearing my favorite sweatpants. Sweatpants you told me I must have left at that hotel room in Quebec. Liar." He looked at her seriously. "I would never kick those sweatpants out."

She laughed. "Good. Because I'm never taking them off."

He ran a finger up her arm and cradled her neck in his hand. "Are you sure about that?" he asked suggestively.

She threw herself into his arms, effectively tackling him to the bed. "I'm so so sorry about all of this."

"I was wondering when you'd come around." He grinned at her. "And you know what I say?"

"What?" she asked.


"I saw screw protocol, too. Stay here with me until morning. We can go back to the normal hiding tomorrow. For now, let's just be together."

She nodded and snuggled in close to his side. They laid in silence until he heard her laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"I just realized what you were trying to do, Michael Vaughn. And it's not going to work."

"What do you mean?" he asked suddenly getting very somber. He thought she had worked out her mixed up daydreams and thoughts, but it seemed like she was implying that she was having doubts.

She looked up at him seriously, but soon cracked up with a smile. "You are so not getting these sweatpants. No way!"

Dropping his mouth in shock and pushing his silly doubts out of his mind, he tickled her side until she squealed for him to stop. As she tried to catch her breath, Sydney finally realized something. "You know this is what love really is. I love you, Michael Vaughn. You are my soul mate."

"Was there ever a real doubt?" he asked, as she shook her head no.

"Not a one."

"Would you do me a favor, Syd?"

"What?"

"Call up Sloane and tell him that you are going to be delayed in St. Petersburg."

She nodded in agreement because she recognized all the forgiving and understanding he had done for her in the past twenty-four hours. It was the least she could do. She reached for her SD-6 phone and called the office. One of the perks of being a spy was she really didn't have to give too elaborate of a reason for the delay. That would come when she returned.

Turning to face Vaughn, she asked, "So why did I do that?"

She didn't get an answer because he was also on the phone. Managing to pick up the end of the conversation, she realized that he had called the CIA office to say that they were going to be delayed. "What is going on?" she asked.

"I want you to come somewhere with me."

"Vaughn, you know that we can't just parade ourselves around together. We still need to follow a strict code of discretion."

"I want you to come to Vegas with me," he said, standing up and pulling on a pair of shoes.

"Las Vegas? Now?"

"Right now. Right this moment."

"Why?" she asked hesitantly.

"Because that's the easiest place for us to make it there and back to Los Angeles before too long a time has past," he said secretively.

Vaughn grabbed her hand and started pulling her out the door. "Why are we going to Vegas?"

"Because I want you to marry me, Syd. I want you to marry me right this second. I can't stand not having you in my life all the time."

"But our work…"

"The CIA can come up with some cover story somehow. We're so close to bringing down SD-6. It's a matter of weeks, days even. I think that, worse comes to it, we can keep our marriage a secret for a few weeks."

Sydney stopped in her tracks in the middle of the hallway and dropped his hand. "You're serious about this, aren't you?"

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I don't care what's happened in the past between us or any members of our family. I want you in my life, and I won't take no for an answer."

She smiled and slipped her hand back into his. "Who said I was saying no?"

"Good." He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss before they started moving again.

When they had reached the outside, Vaughn hailed a cab and told him to drive them to the airport. They snuggled in close to one another in the back seat, letting the whole idea of what they were about to do sink in completely.

"Sydney Vaughn has a nice ring to it," she said finally.

"I like the sound of it, that's for sure."

They sat in a calm silence for a few more blocks before Sydney began to talk again. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Syd. I always will."

After a moment, she added, "But you know you're still not getting your sweatpants back."

"I've got years to work on you. I'm not worried." He leaned down at kissed her lightly on the top of the head. "Lots and lots of years."