"So how are Uncle Jean and Aunt Sophie doing?" Vaughn asked as a waiter set drinks on the table he was sharing with his mother.
"They're both fine," Elise Vaughn smiled. "They want to know when you're going to visit them."
Vaughn smiled, remembering how he had promised Sydney that he would one day take her to the vineyard owned by his mother's family. "Soon, maybe even sometime this year."
"Good, they miss you so much, the whole family does. They never see you anymore."
"They realize that there are planes that fly from France to the United States, not just in the other direction, right? As much as they claim to miss me, they've never come to visit me in L.A. They act like the United States begins and ends with the D.C. metro area," he smirked
Elise laughed. "You have a point. But really, you have to go see Nathalie's new baby. He's the most beautiful baby I've ever seen, except for you, and Jean and Sophie spoil him rotten. I suppose that's how it is with your first grandchild -- not that I would know from personal experience," she said with a wistful sigh.
Vaughn shook his head. "Mom, you are so many things, but subtle is not one of them. I'm well aware of how much you want to be a grandmother, and you know what your problem is? You have too many friends who are grandparents."
"Yes, and I have to live vicariously through them, apparently," she chided, giving her son a knowing look. "What kind of mother would I be if I didn't constantly pressure you to settle down?"
"I don't know, but you wouldn't be *my* mother, that's for sure," he laughed. "Mom, I promise you, one day you will have grandchildren, even if I have to go to a store and buy them."
"Michael, you are terrible! Though I have to say that I missed you and your strange sense of humor while I was gone. It figures that when you finally came home for a while, I'd be the one who had to go on a business trip. We both work too hard," she sighed. "Speaking of which, how is work?"
"It's good, but it's definitely keeping me busy." He knew that was a generic answer, but he also knew that he couldn't tell her any details about the Alliance project. "It looks like I'll probably be here for another two or three months."
"Two or three months isn't very long at all," Elise frowned. To Vaughn, it seemed like an eternity, but he didn't want to tell his mother that.
"Perhaps when your project is completed, you could stay at Langley instead of going back to Los Angeles," she suggested innocently, as if she hadn't already floated the idea on more than one occasion.
"Mom," Vaughn groaned, "we've had this conversation -- repeatedly. I can't stay here in Washington when my life is in L.A."
"What life? All you do is work, sweetheart -- work and play hockey," she corrected herself. "You could do that here *and* come to dinner at the house every week."
"Mom, you spend half your time flying back and forth between here and Paris," Vaughn protested. "We wouldn't see each other nearly as often as you think we would."
"Excuses, excuses, Michael. The only reason I can imagine why you'd want to stay in L.A. is because of a woman . . . "
"Here we go again," Vaughn said with an amused roll of his eyes. He loved his mother dearly, but she was relentless when she was fishing for information.
"Yes, here we go again, Michael," she sighed. "This would all be so much easier if you would just tell me the truth, but since you refuse to do that, I can't help but pester you. I *know* that you're seeing someone even if you won't tell me anything about her."
Vaughn shrugged and looked away. "I told you I was seeing someone," he said weakly. It was taking all the self control he had not to tell his mother everything about Sydney. He desperately wanted to spill his guts to someone, and ever since Eric had flown back to L.A., there hadn't been anyone for him to talk to. But he knew that if he started telling his mother about Sydney, she would ask all kinds of questions that he couldn't answer right now.
"Michael, is this woman married?" Elise cautiously asked.
"No! Why would you ask that?"
"Because you've been so secretive about her. What am I supposed to think? Until now, you've always told me about your girlfriends, even the ones that I've disliked."
"Mom, the woman that I'm seeing is *not* married, and there's nothing wrong with her that I'm trying to hide from you. It's just that our situation is complicated, and it will be until my work here is finished. So can we just leave it at that for now?"
"I suppose -- for now," she reluctantly agreed. She smiled reverently at her only child as she leaned back in her seat.
"What?" he asked self-consciously.
"You remind me so much of your father sometimes. I've never met two men better at keeping secrets. It's no wonder you were both so drawn to the CIA." She looked down at her wine glass and shook her head slightly. "I can't believe that I ever tried to talk you out of working for the agency. Now, I think that it was your destiny."
"Really?"
"Yes," she nodded. "Your father used to always talk about how much he hoped that you would follow in his footsteps, and I always wanted that too until he died. After that, I didn't want you anywhere near that life, but I should have known I couldn't stop you."
"You tried." He said it as a fact, not an accusation, remembering how she had urged him during his senior year of college to apply to law school rather than the CIA.
"I know and I'm not proud of that, but I was scared -- terrified, actually -- at the thought that I might lose another man I loved to that job. And I almost did a few times," she said with a small smile and a raised eyebrow.
"That was years ago, mom. My job's not that dangerous anymore."
"I know. One of the happiest days of my life was when you came back from Paris and decided to take a desk job at Langley. And since then, you've advanced so fast," she said in awe. "Your father would be just so proud of you and the man you've become."
Vaughn looked down at the table cloth, deep in thought. He often wondered how his father would feel about his career. He assumed that he would be proud, but hearing his mother say so was validating, even though it wasn't anything she hadn't told him before.
"Of course," she smiled slyly, "your father would be even prouder if there were children to carry on the Vaughn family name."
"Mom! You never give up, do you?" he asked, laughing as she shook her head no in response.
*****
On Wednesday, Vaughn sat in his office and stared at his computer screen, thinking about dinner a few nights before and the almost comical way in which his mother had tried to trick him into opening up about his personal life. He had deftly avoided falling into her traps, but not without a concerted effort on his part. However, the end result of her probing was that he spent the entire night thinking about Sydney, not that he hadn't spent *every* night for the past month doing that. After a month apart from her, he had come to an undeniable conclusion: he had been a fool to resign as her handler. Rationally, he knew that he had done the right thing because their involvement was making it nearly impossible for them to effectively do their jobs. That realization had been painful, but nowhere near as painful as making the decision to resign as her handler. The only thing that allowed him to stick to his decision was the fact that he didn't want to be a liability to her. Besides, he had told himself that it would be easier to sleep at night knowing that she was working with someone who could handle her objectively.
The reality, however, was that he *wasn't* sleeping at night. He had always had difficulty sleeping when Sydney was away on missions, but now that he no longer knew when she was on a mission or when she wasn't, it was impossible for him to sleep. The almost total lack of information about her whereabouts and well-being was more than he could endure and as a result, he had turned into a complete insomniac, as evidenced by he accumulation of useless informercial products in his temporary home.
Though he had initially convinced himself that it was a smart professional decision for him to resign as her handler, by the end of his first week at Langley, he had completely changed his mind. The project he was working on was mentally stimulating and it was exciting to know that he was actively involved in planning the demise of the Alliance. So far, his superiors at Langley had been impressed with his work and he knew that it might possibly lead to a promotion when the project was over. But he couldn't deny how much he missed the excitement and challenge of working with Sydney. He missed their partnership, the feeling of working together to bring down SD-6, and the exhilaration every time she was successful in one of her countermissions. He always believed that his need to be with Sydney was primarily personal and emotional, but he now understood that it was professional, as well. He realized that he had never been more focused than when he was working with her and he had never worked with an agent as good as she was.
That said, as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling every night, he knew that his professional need for Sydney didn't even begin to compare to the emotional ache that he felt for her in every corner of his soul. At times, he missed her so much that he could hardly breathe, thinking about her smile, her laugh, the way her eyes flashed when she was upset or angry, the way she could make his heart skip a beat just by walking into a room, the feel of her body when she was next to him. He was so hopelessly in love with her that being without her was complete and utter torture, so much so that he would have sold his soul to the devil just to spend five minutes with her.
That had been the impetus for asking Eric to give her the tickets to the Maldives. He wanted her to know that he was thinking both of her and their future together. He needed her to know that he was still committed to her, and that when this was over, he was going to fulfill every promise he had ever made to her, starting with the deserted island, then meeting his mother, and then seeing the vineyard in France. But those were just the promises he had spoken aloud. Though she wasn't aware of it, he had made hundreds more promises in his heart, and he had every intention of fulfilling those too.
Vaughn's musings about Sydney were interrupted by a loud, booming voice in the hallway outside his office. "Mike, come on, man. It's quitting time!"
Vaughn looked up and saw his friend Thomas Carter standing in the doorway. As much as he missed Sydney, he had to admit that the Langley assignment had a few benefits, among them, the opportunity to spend time with his mother and the chance to reconnect with old friends, some of whom he'd known going back to their days as new Langley recruits and others he'd worked with when he returned from the Paris field office. Tom was a friend going back to their days at the Farm.
"Hey, Tom. I'm just waiting for my computer to shut down, but I'm sure they'll save some drinks for us, don't worry," Vaughn teased his friend.
Tom laughed and unloosened his tie. "I need a *few* drinks after nearly getting my ass capped in the Caymans yesterday."
"The Caymans?" Vaughn shook his head and laughed. "Gee, Tommy, they give you all the toughest assignments, huh?"
"You know it. I don't understand why I never get the easy ones, like Croatia."
"Maybe 'cause Briggs knows you're the only agent who could almost get shot opening a safety deposit box. That takes talent most of us don't possess," Vaughn smirked.
"Yep, that's why they pay me the big bucks. So how's the Alliance thing coming?"
"It's coming," Vaughn said as his computer finally shut down and he stood up from his chair and grabbed his briefcase. "Right now, we're in the process of cleaning out some of SD-1's bank accounts."
"And stashing the money into your own bank accounts?" Tom laughed as they made their way to the parking lot.
"Hey, no one's supposed to know about that. Who's meeting us at the bar?"
"The usual crew -- Dave, Alex, Nina, Johnson, Chris, and Melissa," Tom said, watching Vaughn for a reaction.
Vaughn looked at Tom quizzically. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"No reason," Tom said with a shrug.
Ten minutes later, they entered Riley's, a bar popular with CIA agents for both its proximity to headquarters and its relaxed atmosphere. Vaughn followed Tom to a round booth in the corner where their friends and two pitchers of beer were already waiting for them.
"Damn, it's about time you guys got here," crowed Vince Johnson. "You've gotta stop making the rest of us look bad by working so late."
"I wasn't working late," Tom laughed. "You know me better than that. I was fooling around in my office waiting on Mike, since I was giving him a ride. He's the reason we're late."
"Sorry," Vaughn shrugged nonchalantly.
"Hey, don't apologize for being dedicated to your job," Nina Marquez smiled. "That's why Mike's a senior officer and no one else at this table is," she smirked.
"Mike's a senior officer 'cause he slept his way to the top," Vince cracked. Even Vaughn had to laugh at that. Technically, he had been promoted because Sydney demanded it, and he *was* sleeping with her now, though their relationship had been strictly platonic and only slightly friendly when he received his promotion.
"Well, you've got to admit there aren't too many senior officers in the company who are as gorgeous as Mike is."
Vaughn looked up from his beer to see Melissa Banks smiling back at him flirtatiously. He gave her a weak smile in return as the other agents in the booth shot each other knowing looks. After he returned from Paris, Vaughn spent the better part of two years working at Langley and flirting with Melissa. They had been good friends and were obviously attracted to each other, but professionalism, timing, and circumstances had conspired to keep them apart and just after they finally acknowledged their attraction to each other, Vaughn received the promotion that took him to Los Angeles. Initially, he and Melissa had kept in touch, but the distance between them proved too great, and they had both moved on with other people. Since his return to Langley, they had hung out a few times in a group with the other agents, but hadn't spent any significant time alone with each other.
Vaughn looked back down into his beer, uncomfortable at the way that Melissa was openly staring at him in front of everyone else. Maybe it was the alcohol that was making her bolder than usual, but it unnerved him nonetheless. He quietly excused himself from the booth, claiming that he needed to make a phone call, then walked outside. Once he was outside, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, enjoying the feel of the cool March air on his face. Seeing Melissa looking at him that way had only made him start thinking about Sydney again and how much he missed her. Right now he wished that instead of being at a bar with his friends, he could be alone with Sydney anywhere else in the world. He was lost in that fantasy when he was startled by a familiar voice behind him.
"You okay, Mike?" He turned to see Melissa looking at him with obvious concern. "You said you were making a phone call, but you've been out here for so long that I offered to check on you."
"Yeah, I'm fine. I just needed some fresh air," he said with a small smile.
"Not on account of me, I hope? I didn't mean to embarrass back in there. I forgot how modest you are," she smirked as he ducked his head and smiled self-consciously. "It's so weird that you've been here for a month and we've hardly spent any time together.
"You've been out of town a lot," he shrugged.
"Yeah, I have, but things are settling down now, and I don't think I have to go back to London until next month. So," she said, taking a deep breath, "I was hoping that maybe we could get together sometime. You know, maybe go to a movie one night or a hockey game. The Kings are playing the Caps in couple of weeks, and I *know* you don't want to miss that," she teased.
Truthfully, he didn't, but he knew that there was no way that he would go to the game with Melissa. Ever since the day he and Sydney learned the truth about her mother and she asked him to a hockey game, he had sworn to himself that he wouldn't go to another hockey game unless it was with her. He was willing to wait as long as necessary for that day to come, and he was in the home stretch now.
"Yeah, maybe we could go to a movie sometime," he said, nonchalantly.
"Gee, Mike, try not to sound so enthused," she said ruefully.
"Mel, I'm sorry," he said shaking his head and smiling at her. "I didn't mean to sound like that. I just . . . I'm in a weird mood tonight."
"It's okay. I know you've been working really hard since you got here. Trying to impress the higher-ups, are we? One of the things I used to admire so much about you was how ambitious you were and I guess it payed off, huh, Mr. Senior Officer?"
"You just live to tease me, don't you? You always did," he laughed.
"I just like seeing the way that you blush and smile when I do it," she grinned as he proved her right. "I really missed you, Mike," she said softly. "One of my biggest regrets is that we never fully explored whatever it was between us. I know that you're only here for a few months, but I was hoping that we could do that while you're here."
Vaughn was stunned by Melissa's admission. The last thing he had expected to hear was that she was still carrying a torch for him, especially since they had both moved on and had other relationships since he moved to L.A.
"Melissa, I . . ."
"I know," she interjected. "We've barely spent ten minutes together since you've been back and I dropped this on you out of nowhere. It's just that the moment I saw you again, all those old feelings from a few years ago came back to the surface. I always felt like you were the one who got away. Maybe you could be the one who came back," she said with a flirtatious smile.
"Mel . . . I used to always wonder what would have happened between us if I had stayed here, whether we would have ever gotten our act together and moved past the flirting stage. But I don't think I'll ever find out the answer to that question, because I'm seeing someone," he said gently.
"Oh," she said with a shocked expression before she covered her face with her hands. "Oh my god, I can't believe I just did that! I didn't think you were seeing anyone. I asked around and no one had heard you mention a girlfriend. Oh god . . . this is so embarrassing!"
"Please don't be embarrassed," Vaughn said, using his hands to pry her hands from her face. "I haven't mentioned my girlfriend to anyone at the office, so no one knows."
"Oh. Why wouldn't you mention her to your friends?" she asked curiously.
Vaughn sighed. "It's complicated . . . I had my reasons."
"Are you happy? Is it serious?" she asked when he nodded in response to her first question.
"Yes, it's very serious, and she's amazing."
Melissa took a long look at the blissful but far away expression on his face. "Is she an agent? Never mind, that's none of my business," she said when she saw Vaughn's face briefly cloud over. She briefly looked down at the ground, then back up at Vaughn. "I can't believe that I'm saying this, but I'm happy for you if you're happy."
"Well currently, I'm miserable because I miss her so much, but when I'm with her, I'm incredibly happy, so thank you. One day, you're going to meet someone who feels the same way about you."
"Yeah well, I'm not holding my breath waiting for that day to come," Melissa muttered. "So I hope I haven't made so big a fool of myself that we can't still be friends. I would hate it if you felt uncomfortable around me."
"I don't," he reassured her as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her cheek. "We'll always be friends, even if some of us are too busy to call every now and then."
"Hey!" she protested, slapping him playfully on the arm. "I don't recall hearing *your* voice on my voicemail that often. Besides, I'm not so sure it will be a good idea to call you when you go back to L.A. I wouldn't want your girlfriend getting jealous," she said, making a face to let him know she was only joking.
"I don't think she'd be jealous," he said with grin.
"Ahh . . . she's secure in your feelings for her? Knows she has you wrapped around her finger?"
"Pretty much," he laughed. "She's got me right where she wants me."
"Well, I hope she's smart enough to keep you there, 'cause I've got first dibs if she's not."
"I'll tell her you said so."
"Good," she nodded. "So, since we're *friends* and all, I was wondering if I could take you to dinner sometime soon. That's something that friends do, right?"
"Definitely."
"Actually, I have an ulterior motive; I want to pump you for information about the Paris field office."
"Are you thinking about a transfer?" he asked with surprise.
"Yes. It's been something I've been thinking about for the past two months or so. I kind of pushed it to the back of my mind for a while, but I think it's time for me to really consider it, and who better to ask about the experience than you? I know you loved it there."
"Yeah, I did. I'd be happy to tell you all about it, so dinner sounds great."
"Good," she beamed at him. "Well, I guess we should probably go back inside before they send a search party for us."
"After you," he smiled as he held the door open and followed her back inside.
*****
Sydney handed money to the cab driver and closed the door behind her. She took a deep breath and watched the cab drive off, then turned to look at the handsome brick townhouse in front of her. She exhaled slowly and realized that she had actual butterflies in her stomach. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this way. She walked up to the door and knocked loudly twice. When no one answered, she set her luggage down and reached into her carry-on bag, pulling out an electric lock pick and an alarm descrambler. Sometimes it paid to be a spy, she thought with a small laugh. In a matter of minutes, she had entered the foyer of the townhouse and disabled the alarm. She placed her gadgets back in her bag and retrieved her luggage from the walkway outside. After she closed the door behind her, she walked into the living room, admiring its cream, navy and crimson decor. She had just turned to leave the living room and explore the rest of the townhouse when a chubby bulldog ran up to her feet and started barking.
"Donovan!" she exclaimed. She knelt down, held out her hand for him to smell, then petted him once he stopped barking. Soon, he was standing on his hind legs and licking her face. "Some guard dog *you* are," she said, laughing at his friendly demeanor. "I don't suppose your owner is home, huh?"
She stood back up and took a quick tour of the townhouse as Donovan trailed along behind her. It was just as well that Vaughn wasn't home, since it gave her more time to collect herself and figure out how she was going to explain her presence in the townhouse he was subletting from one of his former law school classmates. After spending a miserable day moping around her apartment, she had decided to take the risk of flying out to visit Vaughn. She first badgered Weiss into telling her where he was staying, then bought a seat on a flight to Washington, praying that she wasn't being tailed by SD-6. Honestly though, she couldn't have cared less if she *was* being tailed. Her need to see Vaughn outweighed every other consideration in her life, something she explained to Jack when he urged her to think rationally and stay in L.A.
Now she was here, anxious and excited to see him again for the first time in a month. She was already bracing herself for his inevitable reaction, knowing that he'd probably flip out about the risk she had taken in visiting him. She would just have to distract him with sex if he did flip out, she thought with a wicked grin. She grabbed her suitcase and carried it up to his bedroom. She was just about to turn off the light and leave his room when she noticed a t-shirt and running shorts tossed on the bed. She walked over and picked the t-shirt up, bringing it to her nose and inhaling deeply. It smelled like Vaughn, and it stirred a longing in her so intense that she was overwhelmed by the force of her emotions. She had missed him even more than she realized, and she could barely wait for him to get home so she could see and touch him and be reminded of how incredible it felt to be with him. She took a brief glance at her watch and saw that it was already 8:30. She had expected him to be home by now, but it was Friday night, so maybe he had gone out with friends, she reasoned. She knew she couldn't call him since her arrival was supposed to be a surprise, so she was just going to have to wait patiently for him to come home. She dug a book out of her carry-on and made her way back down to the couch in the living room, deciding she would read while she waited for him.
Two hours later, she was still curled up on the couch with Donovan, still waiting for Vaughn. She set her book down with a restless sigh and stood up to stretch. Looking down at Donovan, she decided to take him out in the small backyard. When she realized how cool it was, she went back inside to grab her jacket, coming to a halt when she heard a key turning in the front door. Her heart jumped and a huge grin spread across her face as she realized that Vaughn was finally home. She wanted to run into the foyer to greet him, but instead decided to stay in the living room and wait for him to appear.
"That's so weird. I could've sworn I turned the alarm on this morning," she heard him say as his footsteps approached the living room. Her heart practically stopped when he stepped into the room and they laid eyes on each other for the first time in a month. He looked even better than she remembered, despite the shocked expression on his face. She watched as the shock soon gave way to a joyful smile and she felt her own grin become wider. She was just about to cross the room to hug him when she heard a female voice coming from behind him.
"Michael, I thought you said . . ." the voice trailed off as a woman entered the living room and stared quizzically at Sydney. Sydney herself was so stunned that she could do nothing but stare back. The last thing she had expected when Vaughn came home was to find him with another woman. She looked expectantly at Vaughn, waiting for him to explain the situation. Apparently, she wasn't the only one who wanted an explanation.
"So, Michael, are you going to introduce me to your guest or not?" the other woman asked.
TBC . . .
"They're both fine," Elise Vaughn smiled. "They want to know when you're going to visit them."
Vaughn smiled, remembering how he had promised Sydney that he would one day take her to the vineyard owned by his mother's family. "Soon, maybe even sometime this year."
"Good, they miss you so much, the whole family does. They never see you anymore."
"They realize that there are planes that fly from France to the United States, not just in the other direction, right? As much as they claim to miss me, they've never come to visit me in L.A. They act like the United States begins and ends with the D.C. metro area," he smirked
Elise laughed. "You have a point. But really, you have to go see Nathalie's new baby. He's the most beautiful baby I've ever seen, except for you, and Jean and Sophie spoil him rotten. I suppose that's how it is with your first grandchild -- not that I would know from personal experience," she said with a wistful sigh.
Vaughn shook his head. "Mom, you are so many things, but subtle is not one of them. I'm well aware of how much you want to be a grandmother, and you know what your problem is? You have too many friends who are grandparents."
"Yes, and I have to live vicariously through them, apparently," she chided, giving her son a knowing look. "What kind of mother would I be if I didn't constantly pressure you to settle down?"
"I don't know, but you wouldn't be *my* mother, that's for sure," he laughed. "Mom, I promise you, one day you will have grandchildren, even if I have to go to a store and buy them."
"Michael, you are terrible! Though I have to say that I missed you and your strange sense of humor while I was gone. It figures that when you finally came home for a while, I'd be the one who had to go on a business trip. We both work too hard," she sighed. "Speaking of which, how is work?"
"It's good, but it's definitely keeping me busy." He knew that was a generic answer, but he also knew that he couldn't tell her any details about the Alliance project. "It looks like I'll probably be here for another two or three months."
"Two or three months isn't very long at all," Elise frowned. To Vaughn, it seemed like an eternity, but he didn't want to tell his mother that.
"Perhaps when your project is completed, you could stay at Langley instead of going back to Los Angeles," she suggested innocently, as if she hadn't already floated the idea on more than one occasion.
"Mom," Vaughn groaned, "we've had this conversation -- repeatedly. I can't stay here in Washington when my life is in L.A."
"What life? All you do is work, sweetheart -- work and play hockey," she corrected herself. "You could do that here *and* come to dinner at the house every week."
"Mom, you spend half your time flying back and forth between here and Paris," Vaughn protested. "We wouldn't see each other nearly as often as you think we would."
"Excuses, excuses, Michael. The only reason I can imagine why you'd want to stay in L.A. is because of a woman . . . "
"Here we go again," Vaughn said with an amused roll of his eyes. He loved his mother dearly, but she was relentless when she was fishing for information.
"Yes, here we go again, Michael," she sighed. "This would all be so much easier if you would just tell me the truth, but since you refuse to do that, I can't help but pester you. I *know* that you're seeing someone even if you won't tell me anything about her."
Vaughn shrugged and looked away. "I told you I was seeing someone," he said weakly. It was taking all the self control he had not to tell his mother everything about Sydney. He desperately wanted to spill his guts to someone, and ever since Eric had flown back to L.A., there hadn't been anyone for him to talk to. But he knew that if he started telling his mother about Sydney, she would ask all kinds of questions that he couldn't answer right now.
"Michael, is this woman married?" Elise cautiously asked.
"No! Why would you ask that?"
"Because you've been so secretive about her. What am I supposed to think? Until now, you've always told me about your girlfriends, even the ones that I've disliked."
"Mom, the woman that I'm seeing is *not* married, and there's nothing wrong with her that I'm trying to hide from you. It's just that our situation is complicated, and it will be until my work here is finished. So can we just leave it at that for now?"
"I suppose -- for now," she reluctantly agreed. She smiled reverently at her only child as she leaned back in her seat.
"What?" he asked self-consciously.
"You remind me so much of your father sometimes. I've never met two men better at keeping secrets. It's no wonder you were both so drawn to the CIA." She looked down at her wine glass and shook her head slightly. "I can't believe that I ever tried to talk you out of working for the agency. Now, I think that it was your destiny."
"Really?"
"Yes," she nodded. "Your father used to always talk about how much he hoped that you would follow in his footsteps, and I always wanted that too until he died. After that, I didn't want you anywhere near that life, but I should have known I couldn't stop you."
"You tried." He said it as a fact, not an accusation, remembering how she had urged him during his senior year of college to apply to law school rather than the CIA.
"I know and I'm not proud of that, but I was scared -- terrified, actually -- at the thought that I might lose another man I loved to that job. And I almost did a few times," she said with a small smile and a raised eyebrow.
"That was years ago, mom. My job's not that dangerous anymore."
"I know. One of the happiest days of my life was when you came back from Paris and decided to take a desk job at Langley. And since then, you've advanced so fast," she said in awe. "Your father would be just so proud of you and the man you've become."
Vaughn looked down at the table cloth, deep in thought. He often wondered how his father would feel about his career. He assumed that he would be proud, but hearing his mother say so was validating, even though it wasn't anything she hadn't told him before.
"Of course," she smiled slyly, "your father would be even prouder if there were children to carry on the Vaughn family name."
"Mom! You never give up, do you?" he asked, laughing as she shook her head no in response.
*****
On Wednesday, Vaughn sat in his office and stared at his computer screen, thinking about dinner a few nights before and the almost comical way in which his mother had tried to trick him into opening up about his personal life. He had deftly avoided falling into her traps, but not without a concerted effort on his part. However, the end result of her probing was that he spent the entire night thinking about Sydney, not that he hadn't spent *every* night for the past month doing that. After a month apart from her, he had come to an undeniable conclusion: he had been a fool to resign as her handler. Rationally, he knew that he had done the right thing because their involvement was making it nearly impossible for them to effectively do their jobs. That realization had been painful, but nowhere near as painful as making the decision to resign as her handler. The only thing that allowed him to stick to his decision was the fact that he didn't want to be a liability to her. Besides, he had told himself that it would be easier to sleep at night knowing that she was working with someone who could handle her objectively.
The reality, however, was that he *wasn't* sleeping at night. He had always had difficulty sleeping when Sydney was away on missions, but now that he no longer knew when she was on a mission or when she wasn't, it was impossible for him to sleep. The almost total lack of information about her whereabouts and well-being was more than he could endure and as a result, he had turned into a complete insomniac, as evidenced by he accumulation of useless informercial products in his temporary home.
Though he had initially convinced himself that it was a smart professional decision for him to resign as her handler, by the end of his first week at Langley, he had completely changed his mind. The project he was working on was mentally stimulating and it was exciting to know that he was actively involved in planning the demise of the Alliance. So far, his superiors at Langley had been impressed with his work and he knew that it might possibly lead to a promotion when the project was over. But he couldn't deny how much he missed the excitement and challenge of working with Sydney. He missed their partnership, the feeling of working together to bring down SD-6, and the exhilaration every time she was successful in one of her countermissions. He always believed that his need to be with Sydney was primarily personal and emotional, but he now understood that it was professional, as well. He realized that he had never been more focused than when he was working with her and he had never worked with an agent as good as she was.
That said, as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling every night, he knew that his professional need for Sydney didn't even begin to compare to the emotional ache that he felt for her in every corner of his soul. At times, he missed her so much that he could hardly breathe, thinking about her smile, her laugh, the way her eyes flashed when she was upset or angry, the way she could make his heart skip a beat just by walking into a room, the feel of her body when she was next to him. He was so hopelessly in love with her that being without her was complete and utter torture, so much so that he would have sold his soul to the devil just to spend five minutes with her.
That had been the impetus for asking Eric to give her the tickets to the Maldives. He wanted her to know that he was thinking both of her and their future together. He needed her to know that he was still committed to her, and that when this was over, he was going to fulfill every promise he had ever made to her, starting with the deserted island, then meeting his mother, and then seeing the vineyard in France. But those were just the promises he had spoken aloud. Though she wasn't aware of it, he had made hundreds more promises in his heart, and he had every intention of fulfilling those too.
Vaughn's musings about Sydney were interrupted by a loud, booming voice in the hallway outside his office. "Mike, come on, man. It's quitting time!"
Vaughn looked up and saw his friend Thomas Carter standing in the doorway. As much as he missed Sydney, he had to admit that the Langley assignment had a few benefits, among them, the opportunity to spend time with his mother and the chance to reconnect with old friends, some of whom he'd known going back to their days as new Langley recruits and others he'd worked with when he returned from the Paris field office. Tom was a friend going back to their days at the Farm.
"Hey, Tom. I'm just waiting for my computer to shut down, but I'm sure they'll save some drinks for us, don't worry," Vaughn teased his friend.
Tom laughed and unloosened his tie. "I need a *few* drinks after nearly getting my ass capped in the Caymans yesterday."
"The Caymans?" Vaughn shook his head and laughed. "Gee, Tommy, they give you all the toughest assignments, huh?"
"You know it. I don't understand why I never get the easy ones, like Croatia."
"Maybe 'cause Briggs knows you're the only agent who could almost get shot opening a safety deposit box. That takes talent most of us don't possess," Vaughn smirked.
"Yep, that's why they pay me the big bucks. So how's the Alliance thing coming?"
"It's coming," Vaughn said as his computer finally shut down and he stood up from his chair and grabbed his briefcase. "Right now, we're in the process of cleaning out some of SD-1's bank accounts."
"And stashing the money into your own bank accounts?" Tom laughed as they made their way to the parking lot.
"Hey, no one's supposed to know about that. Who's meeting us at the bar?"
"The usual crew -- Dave, Alex, Nina, Johnson, Chris, and Melissa," Tom said, watching Vaughn for a reaction.
Vaughn looked at Tom quizzically. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"No reason," Tom said with a shrug.
Ten minutes later, they entered Riley's, a bar popular with CIA agents for both its proximity to headquarters and its relaxed atmosphere. Vaughn followed Tom to a round booth in the corner where their friends and two pitchers of beer were already waiting for them.
"Damn, it's about time you guys got here," crowed Vince Johnson. "You've gotta stop making the rest of us look bad by working so late."
"I wasn't working late," Tom laughed. "You know me better than that. I was fooling around in my office waiting on Mike, since I was giving him a ride. He's the reason we're late."
"Sorry," Vaughn shrugged nonchalantly.
"Hey, don't apologize for being dedicated to your job," Nina Marquez smiled. "That's why Mike's a senior officer and no one else at this table is," she smirked.
"Mike's a senior officer 'cause he slept his way to the top," Vince cracked. Even Vaughn had to laugh at that. Technically, he had been promoted because Sydney demanded it, and he *was* sleeping with her now, though their relationship had been strictly platonic and only slightly friendly when he received his promotion.
"Well, you've got to admit there aren't too many senior officers in the company who are as gorgeous as Mike is."
Vaughn looked up from his beer to see Melissa Banks smiling back at him flirtatiously. He gave her a weak smile in return as the other agents in the booth shot each other knowing looks. After he returned from Paris, Vaughn spent the better part of two years working at Langley and flirting with Melissa. They had been good friends and were obviously attracted to each other, but professionalism, timing, and circumstances had conspired to keep them apart and just after they finally acknowledged their attraction to each other, Vaughn received the promotion that took him to Los Angeles. Initially, he and Melissa had kept in touch, but the distance between them proved too great, and they had both moved on with other people. Since his return to Langley, they had hung out a few times in a group with the other agents, but hadn't spent any significant time alone with each other.
Vaughn looked back down into his beer, uncomfortable at the way that Melissa was openly staring at him in front of everyone else. Maybe it was the alcohol that was making her bolder than usual, but it unnerved him nonetheless. He quietly excused himself from the booth, claiming that he needed to make a phone call, then walked outside. Once he was outside, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, enjoying the feel of the cool March air on his face. Seeing Melissa looking at him that way had only made him start thinking about Sydney again and how much he missed her. Right now he wished that instead of being at a bar with his friends, he could be alone with Sydney anywhere else in the world. He was lost in that fantasy when he was startled by a familiar voice behind him.
"You okay, Mike?" He turned to see Melissa looking at him with obvious concern. "You said you were making a phone call, but you've been out here for so long that I offered to check on you."
"Yeah, I'm fine. I just needed some fresh air," he said with a small smile.
"Not on account of me, I hope? I didn't mean to embarrass back in there. I forgot how modest you are," she smirked as he ducked his head and smiled self-consciously. "It's so weird that you've been here for a month and we've hardly spent any time together.
"You've been out of town a lot," he shrugged.
"Yeah, I have, but things are settling down now, and I don't think I have to go back to London until next month. So," she said, taking a deep breath, "I was hoping that maybe we could get together sometime. You know, maybe go to a movie one night or a hockey game. The Kings are playing the Caps in couple of weeks, and I *know* you don't want to miss that," she teased.
Truthfully, he didn't, but he knew that there was no way that he would go to the game with Melissa. Ever since the day he and Sydney learned the truth about her mother and she asked him to a hockey game, he had sworn to himself that he wouldn't go to another hockey game unless it was with her. He was willing to wait as long as necessary for that day to come, and he was in the home stretch now.
"Yeah, maybe we could go to a movie sometime," he said, nonchalantly.
"Gee, Mike, try not to sound so enthused," she said ruefully.
"Mel, I'm sorry," he said shaking his head and smiling at her. "I didn't mean to sound like that. I just . . . I'm in a weird mood tonight."
"It's okay. I know you've been working really hard since you got here. Trying to impress the higher-ups, are we? One of the things I used to admire so much about you was how ambitious you were and I guess it payed off, huh, Mr. Senior Officer?"
"You just live to tease me, don't you? You always did," he laughed.
"I just like seeing the way that you blush and smile when I do it," she grinned as he proved her right. "I really missed you, Mike," she said softly. "One of my biggest regrets is that we never fully explored whatever it was between us. I know that you're only here for a few months, but I was hoping that we could do that while you're here."
Vaughn was stunned by Melissa's admission. The last thing he had expected to hear was that she was still carrying a torch for him, especially since they had both moved on and had other relationships since he moved to L.A.
"Melissa, I . . ."
"I know," she interjected. "We've barely spent ten minutes together since you've been back and I dropped this on you out of nowhere. It's just that the moment I saw you again, all those old feelings from a few years ago came back to the surface. I always felt like you were the one who got away. Maybe you could be the one who came back," she said with a flirtatious smile.
"Mel . . . I used to always wonder what would have happened between us if I had stayed here, whether we would have ever gotten our act together and moved past the flirting stage. But I don't think I'll ever find out the answer to that question, because I'm seeing someone," he said gently.
"Oh," she said with a shocked expression before she covered her face with her hands. "Oh my god, I can't believe I just did that! I didn't think you were seeing anyone. I asked around and no one had heard you mention a girlfriend. Oh god . . . this is so embarrassing!"
"Please don't be embarrassed," Vaughn said, using his hands to pry her hands from her face. "I haven't mentioned my girlfriend to anyone at the office, so no one knows."
"Oh. Why wouldn't you mention her to your friends?" she asked curiously.
Vaughn sighed. "It's complicated . . . I had my reasons."
"Are you happy? Is it serious?" she asked when he nodded in response to her first question.
"Yes, it's very serious, and she's amazing."
Melissa took a long look at the blissful but far away expression on his face. "Is she an agent? Never mind, that's none of my business," she said when she saw Vaughn's face briefly cloud over. She briefly looked down at the ground, then back up at Vaughn. "I can't believe that I'm saying this, but I'm happy for you if you're happy."
"Well currently, I'm miserable because I miss her so much, but when I'm with her, I'm incredibly happy, so thank you. One day, you're going to meet someone who feels the same way about you."
"Yeah well, I'm not holding my breath waiting for that day to come," Melissa muttered. "So I hope I haven't made so big a fool of myself that we can't still be friends. I would hate it if you felt uncomfortable around me."
"I don't," he reassured her as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her cheek. "We'll always be friends, even if some of us are too busy to call every now and then."
"Hey!" she protested, slapping him playfully on the arm. "I don't recall hearing *your* voice on my voicemail that often. Besides, I'm not so sure it will be a good idea to call you when you go back to L.A. I wouldn't want your girlfriend getting jealous," she said, making a face to let him know she was only joking.
"I don't think she'd be jealous," he said with grin.
"Ahh . . . she's secure in your feelings for her? Knows she has you wrapped around her finger?"
"Pretty much," he laughed. "She's got me right where she wants me."
"Well, I hope she's smart enough to keep you there, 'cause I've got first dibs if she's not."
"I'll tell her you said so."
"Good," she nodded. "So, since we're *friends* and all, I was wondering if I could take you to dinner sometime soon. That's something that friends do, right?"
"Definitely."
"Actually, I have an ulterior motive; I want to pump you for information about the Paris field office."
"Are you thinking about a transfer?" he asked with surprise.
"Yes. It's been something I've been thinking about for the past two months or so. I kind of pushed it to the back of my mind for a while, but I think it's time for me to really consider it, and who better to ask about the experience than you? I know you loved it there."
"Yeah, I did. I'd be happy to tell you all about it, so dinner sounds great."
"Good," she beamed at him. "Well, I guess we should probably go back inside before they send a search party for us."
"After you," he smiled as he held the door open and followed her back inside.
*****
Sydney handed money to the cab driver and closed the door behind her. She took a deep breath and watched the cab drive off, then turned to look at the handsome brick townhouse in front of her. She exhaled slowly and realized that she had actual butterflies in her stomach. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this way. She walked up to the door and knocked loudly twice. When no one answered, she set her luggage down and reached into her carry-on bag, pulling out an electric lock pick and an alarm descrambler. Sometimes it paid to be a spy, she thought with a small laugh. In a matter of minutes, she had entered the foyer of the townhouse and disabled the alarm. She placed her gadgets back in her bag and retrieved her luggage from the walkway outside. After she closed the door behind her, she walked into the living room, admiring its cream, navy and crimson decor. She had just turned to leave the living room and explore the rest of the townhouse when a chubby bulldog ran up to her feet and started barking.
"Donovan!" she exclaimed. She knelt down, held out her hand for him to smell, then petted him once he stopped barking. Soon, he was standing on his hind legs and licking her face. "Some guard dog *you* are," she said, laughing at his friendly demeanor. "I don't suppose your owner is home, huh?"
She stood back up and took a quick tour of the townhouse as Donovan trailed along behind her. It was just as well that Vaughn wasn't home, since it gave her more time to collect herself and figure out how she was going to explain her presence in the townhouse he was subletting from one of his former law school classmates. After spending a miserable day moping around her apartment, she had decided to take the risk of flying out to visit Vaughn. She first badgered Weiss into telling her where he was staying, then bought a seat on a flight to Washington, praying that she wasn't being tailed by SD-6. Honestly though, she couldn't have cared less if she *was* being tailed. Her need to see Vaughn outweighed every other consideration in her life, something she explained to Jack when he urged her to think rationally and stay in L.A.
Now she was here, anxious and excited to see him again for the first time in a month. She was already bracing herself for his inevitable reaction, knowing that he'd probably flip out about the risk she had taken in visiting him. She would just have to distract him with sex if he did flip out, she thought with a wicked grin. She grabbed her suitcase and carried it up to his bedroom. She was just about to turn off the light and leave his room when she noticed a t-shirt and running shorts tossed on the bed. She walked over and picked the t-shirt up, bringing it to her nose and inhaling deeply. It smelled like Vaughn, and it stirred a longing in her so intense that she was overwhelmed by the force of her emotions. She had missed him even more than she realized, and she could barely wait for him to get home so she could see and touch him and be reminded of how incredible it felt to be with him. She took a brief glance at her watch and saw that it was already 8:30. She had expected him to be home by now, but it was Friday night, so maybe he had gone out with friends, she reasoned. She knew she couldn't call him since her arrival was supposed to be a surprise, so she was just going to have to wait patiently for him to come home. She dug a book out of her carry-on and made her way back down to the couch in the living room, deciding she would read while she waited for him.
Two hours later, she was still curled up on the couch with Donovan, still waiting for Vaughn. She set her book down with a restless sigh and stood up to stretch. Looking down at Donovan, she decided to take him out in the small backyard. When she realized how cool it was, she went back inside to grab her jacket, coming to a halt when she heard a key turning in the front door. Her heart jumped and a huge grin spread across her face as she realized that Vaughn was finally home. She wanted to run into the foyer to greet him, but instead decided to stay in the living room and wait for him to appear.
"That's so weird. I could've sworn I turned the alarm on this morning," she heard him say as his footsteps approached the living room. Her heart practically stopped when he stepped into the room and they laid eyes on each other for the first time in a month. He looked even better than she remembered, despite the shocked expression on his face. She watched as the shock soon gave way to a joyful smile and she felt her own grin become wider. She was just about to cross the room to hug him when she heard a female voice coming from behind him.
"Michael, I thought you said . . ." the voice trailed off as a woman entered the living room and stared quizzically at Sydney. Sydney herself was so stunned that she could do nothing but stare back. The last thing she had expected when Vaughn came home was to find him with another woman. She looked expectantly at Vaughn, waiting for him to explain the situation. Apparently, she wasn't the only one who wanted an explanation.
"So, Michael, are you going to introduce me to your guest or not?" the other woman asked.
TBC . . .