02//Out
- - -
I'm lifting you up
I'm letting you down
I'm dancing till dawn
I'm following around
I'm not giving up
I'm making your love
This city's made us crazy and we must get out
"Must Get Out" - Maroon 5
- - -
The sudden beeping of the alarm clock woke Sydney from a sleepy stupor. She reached over and slammed the snooze button. It was 6 am on a Tuesday morning; the week was slowly creeping by in front of her. She felt a pair of strong arms stir and wrap themselves around her. The actions of last night dripped back into her memory. They had made love again but it was nothing special, nothing like the first time. This time it seemed so mechanical in a sense. Like it was a chore that must be done instead of an experience that should be remembered. Indeed Sydney and Vaughn's relationship had reached it's slump. Now, it was looking for something to revive itself.
Sydney untangled herself from Vaughn's embrace and walked to the bathroom to take her morning shower. In this process: Vaughn snorted, turned over, and slept on.
As Sydney let the warm water soak her, she thought about how boring her love life has become. She had always desired one that consists of random getaways, whether it is to the local coffee shop or to Rome, Italy for a short but sweet vacation. Vaughn had his moments, but nothing that could satisfy Sydney. You could call her stubborn but it wouldn't matter to her. It was what she wanted most out of her relationships.
15 minutes later, Sydney stepped out of the shower and wrapped a large towel around her small frame. She walked out of the bathroom to see Vaughn sprawled out on the bed, her comforter covering the necessary parts. She let out a small smirk before shaking him.
"Come on Vaughn, its time to get up." She cooed gently into his ear. He shifted slightly but made no other attempted to wake up. Sydney wasn't close to giving up. "Come on Vaughn, You need to take a shower." She coaxed but he still remained dead to the world. Sydney sighed and stood up straight. She could steal secret plans from any alien government, kick the ass of practically any threatening agent, but she couldn't get her boyfriend out of bed. She seized the comforter and yanked it off of him. Leaving him stark naked and sprawled out on her bed. "Get up!" Sydney told him in a blatant voice. She walked out of the room, knowing her last action was sure to complete the task. She walked into her kitchen and grabbed a muffin. After a few moments of silence, eating her muffin, she heard the sound of the shower beginning to run. She gave a satisfied grin and continued eating her muffin.
- - -
It was now 9 o 'clock in the morning and Sydney was in her first meeting. All the usual suspects were in the room; Vaughn, Marshall, Kendall, Will, and her father. She sat in her premium leather chair at a slight incline, becoming very bored with it all. She felt like a jaded girl with nothing to neither excite nor please her. She listened to Kendall's voice drone on and on about the process with capturing Sloane and her mother. Then something snapped her back into reality; a picture of Sark flashed on the computer screen in front of her. Suddenly she was very interested in what Kendall had to say.
"There will be a party at the Drake mansion in London, England. Our good friend," he gestures to the large screen at the front of the room," Mr. Sark, will be in attendance as well. We have received Intel that hiding on the second floor library are passwords to get into a Rimbaldi vault. The party is this Thursday. Miss Bristow will be leaving tomorrow," Kendall informed her, but Sydney stood up in protest
"Sir, I just got back from Rome. Can't you se-" Sydney tried to say but he words were cut short.
"Miss Bristow, you are most knowledgeable of Mr. Sark then anyone else here. You've dealt with him more and know his fighting technique well." He told her in his usual strict voice. He picked up a few folders that were in front of him. "End of discussion." He said and briskly walked out of the conference room. Sydney froze in that position: still and her mouth slightly agape. How dare they, the CIA was working her like a dog and she gained no respect. She felt a hand rub her lower arm. Sydney didn't have to look; she knew it was Vaughn. As everyone left the room Sydney sat down in her chair again and began to rub her temples in a circular motion.
"Syd," Vaughn coaxed in a low voice, "I'm sorry about this. I know how stressed you've been lately and,"
"You have no idea how stressed out I've been," She muttered in return, continuing to rub her temples.
"You're right. I don't ." he said in a defeated voice. Silence fell between them as Vaughn thought of another plan of attack. "Why don't we head over to Francie's at break? We can take an early lunch, we can just sit and enjoy ourselves."
Not until this point Sydney realized how tired she was. Another plane trip might kill her or might as well kill her. She agreed to the lunch date with Vaughn. He gave her a smile, it was a weak one but it was something Sydney appreciated. She tried to look at the bright side of things. For a few hours while at the party, she'll be someone else. Maybe a rich businesswoman looking to finalize an investment with the host of the party or maybe a snobbish wife accompanying her husband on another boring business trip.
Oh, the possibilities.
- - -
Sooner then Sydney would have liked, it was Thursday and she was in her stretch limo, on her way to the party. It was deep in the hills, she read the Drakes owned a very successful winery. She saw miles upon miles of vineyard fields. She turned her attention to the objective of her trip. She had picked the alias of Lisa Vintichoni, a businesswoman and wife of an Italian associate of the Drakes. Her hair was now a deep burgundy that lay on her shoulders. She wore a sleek, black dress; the slit was high enough to catch the attention of any men, yet long enough to hid a 9 mm pistol that was securely strapped around her upper thigh. As the mansion came into view, Sydney began to think of her and Vaughn's latest goodbye.
It was so brief; a quick kiss on the cheek, a "see you soon." and she was shuffled onto the plane. See you soon? As much as he knows, she could easily be killed and "See you soon" will become "good bye forever." Indeed, things with Vaughn were becoming more automatic. Is that the right word to use? Automatic? He does everything a good boyfriend should but maybe he followed the book a little too closely? Sometimes you need to disregard the book, color outside of the lines. Though, Sydney and Vaughn's relationship was against Protocol. It seemed like they were still following protocol.
The limo stopped in front of the large mansion. Sydney was impressed; the lights inside and outside gave the mansion a very classical yet eerie look. Almost like the castle was plucked from the renaissance age. Maybe her prince charming was waiting for her inside, she smirked to herself. The driver opened her door and bid her a good evening. Couples ranging in all ages made their way up the large staircase. Sydney felt slightly alone, now wishing Vaughn was with her but she pushed those feelings aside. 'Time to make the donuts' she thought to herself.
"Name?" the doorman stood at the front, looking large and threatening. His voice was deep with a pinch of a welsh accent.
"Vintichoni." Sydney replied, disguising her voice with a thick Italian accent. The man grunted and allowed her to pass. As she entered, she looked over the sea of people in the large entrance area. They stood in their circles chatting, a few bursts of laughter popped like popcorn every now and then. Women had drenched themselves in diamonds and other lavish jewelry. She watched as older men's eyes lingered on the petite women cutting through the crowd and served wine. Sydney helped herself to a glass and continued to watch. She was looking for a large Shahn portrait. Next to it will be the hallway heading to a secret staircase, that leading to the library. She saw a Hofmann piece, then a Giogrione portrait; many paintings were adorned on the walls. Sydney had to admit, the host had fine taste in art. She took another sip of her wine as she spotted him.
Sark.
He stood near one of the paintings, chatting with one of the young waitresses. "Mixing business with pleasure?" Sydney muttered to herself with a smug smile. Almost as if he had heard her, Sark's eyes drifted from the young girl to Sydney. Sydney raised his glass to him and downed the rest of it with one gulp.
The race was on.
- - -
I'm lifting you up
I'm letting you down
I'm dancing till dawn
I'm following around
I'm not giving up
I'm making your love
This city's made us crazy and we must get out
"Must Get Out" - Maroon 5
- - -
The sudden beeping of the alarm clock woke Sydney from a sleepy stupor. She reached over and slammed the snooze button. It was 6 am on a Tuesday morning; the week was slowly creeping by in front of her. She felt a pair of strong arms stir and wrap themselves around her. The actions of last night dripped back into her memory. They had made love again but it was nothing special, nothing like the first time. This time it seemed so mechanical in a sense. Like it was a chore that must be done instead of an experience that should be remembered. Indeed Sydney and Vaughn's relationship had reached it's slump. Now, it was looking for something to revive itself.
Sydney untangled herself from Vaughn's embrace and walked to the bathroom to take her morning shower. In this process: Vaughn snorted, turned over, and slept on.
As Sydney let the warm water soak her, she thought about how boring her love life has become. She had always desired one that consists of random getaways, whether it is to the local coffee shop or to Rome, Italy for a short but sweet vacation. Vaughn had his moments, but nothing that could satisfy Sydney. You could call her stubborn but it wouldn't matter to her. It was what she wanted most out of her relationships.
15 minutes later, Sydney stepped out of the shower and wrapped a large towel around her small frame. She walked out of the bathroom to see Vaughn sprawled out on the bed, her comforter covering the necessary parts. She let out a small smirk before shaking him.
"Come on Vaughn, its time to get up." She cooed gently into his ear. He shifted slightly but made no other attempted to wake up. Sydney wasn't close to giving up. "Come on Vaughn, You need to take a shower." She coaxed but he still remained dead to the world. Sydney sighed and stood up straight. She could steal secret plans from any alien government, kick the ass of practically any threatening agent, but she couldn't get her boyfriend out of bed. She seized the comforter and yanked it off of him. Leaving him stark naked and sprawled out on her bed. "Get up!" Sydney told him in a blatant voice. She walked out of the room, knowing her last action was sure to complete the task. She walked into her kitchen and grabbed a muffin. After a few moments of silence, eating her muffin, she heard the sound of the shower beginning to run. She gave a satisfied grin and continued eating her muffin.
- - -
It was now 9 o 'clock in the morning and Sydney was in her first meeting. All the usual suspects were in the room; Vaughn, Marshall, Kendall, Will, and her father. She sat in her premium leather chair at a slight incline, becoming very bored with it all. She felt like a jaded girl with nothing to neither excite nor please her. She listened to Kendall's voice drone on and on about the process with capturing Sloane and her mother. Then something snapped her back into reality; a picture of Sark flashed on the computer screen in front of her. Suddenly she was very interested in what Kendall had to say.
"There will be a party at the Drake mansion in London, England. Our good friend," he gestures to the large screen at the front of the room," Mr. Sark, will be in attendance as well. We have received Intel that hiding on the second floor library are passwords to get into a Rimbaldi vault. The party is this Thursday. Miss Bristow will be leaving tomorrow," Kendall informed her, but Sydney stood up in protest
"Sir, I just got back from Rome. Can't you se-" Sydney tried to say but he words were cut short.
"Miss Bristow, you are most knowledgeable of Mr. Sark then anyone else here. You've dealt with him more and know his fighting technique well." He told her in his usual strict voice. He picked up a few folders that were in front of him. "End of discussion." He said and briskly walked out of the conference room. Sydney froze in that position: still and her mouth slightly agape. How dare they, the CIA was working her like a dog and she gained no respect. She felt a hand rub her lower arm. Sydney didn't have to look; she knew it was Vaughn. As everyone left the room Sydney sat down in her chair again and began to rub her temples in a circular motion.
"Syd," Vaughn coaxed in a low voice, "I'm sorry about this. I know how stressed you've been lately and,"
"You have no idea how stressed out I've been," She muttered in return, continuing to rub her temples.
"You're right. I don't ." he said in a defeated voice. Silence fell between them as Vaughn thought of another plan of attack. "Why don't we head over to Francie's at break? We can take an early lunch, we can just sit and enjoy ourselves."
Not until this point Sydney realized how tired she was. Another plane trip might kill her or might as well kill her. She agreed to the lunch date with Vaughn. He gave her a smile, it was a weak one but it was something Sydney appreciated. She tried to look at the bright side of things. For a few hours while at the party, she'll be someone else. Maybe a rich businesswoman looking to finalize an investment with the host of the party or maybe a snobbish wife accompanying her husband on another boring business trip.
Oh, the possibilities.
- - -
Sooner then Sydney would have liked, it was Thursday and she was in her stretch limo, on her way to the party. It was deep in the hills, she read the Drakes owned a very successful winery. She saw miles upon miles of vineyard fields. She turned her attention to the objective of her trip. She had picked the alias of Lisa Vintichoni, a businesswoman and wife of an Italian associate of the Drakes. Her hair was now a deep burgundy that lay on her shoulders. She wore a sleek, black dress; the slit was high enough to catch the attention of any men, yet long enough to hid a 9 mm pistol that was securely strapped around her upper thigh. As the mansion came into view, Sydney began to think of her and Vaughn's latest goodbye.
It was so brief; a quick kiss on the cheek, a "see you soon." and she was shuffled onto the plane. See you soon? As much as he knows, she could easily be killed and "See you soon" will become "good bye forever." Indeed, things with Vaughn were becoming more automatic. Is that the right word to use? Automatic? He does everything a good boyfriend should but maybe he followed the book a little too closely? Sometimes you need to disregard the book, color outside of the lines. Though, Sydney and Vaughn's relationship was against Protocol. It seemed like they were still following protocol.
The limo stopped in front of the large mansion. Sydney was impressed; the lights inside and outside gave the mansion a very classical yet eerie look. Almost like the castle was plucked from the renaissance age. Maybe her prince charming was waiting for her inside, she smirked to herself. The driver opened her door and bid her a good evening. Couples ranging in all ages made their way up the large staircase. Sydney felt slightly alone, now wishing Vaughn was with her but she pushed those feelings aside. 'Time to make the donuts' she thought to herself.
"Name?" the doorman stood at the front, looking large and threatening. His voice was deep with a pinch of a welsh accent.
"Vintichoni." Sydney replied, disguising her voice with a thick Italian accent. The man grunted and allowed her to pass. As she entered, she looked over the sea of people in the large entrance area. They stood in their circles chatting, a few bursts of laughter popped like popcorn every now and then. Women had drenched themselves in diamonds and other lavish jewelry. She watched as older men's eyes lingered on the petite women cutting through the crowd and served wine. Sydney helped herself to a glass and continued to watch. She was looking for a large Shahn portrait. Next to it will be the hallway heading to a secret staircase, that leading to the library. She saw a Hofmann piece, then a Giogrione portrait; many paintings were adorned on the walls. Sydney had to admit, the host had fine taste in art. She took another sip of her wine as she spotted him.
Sark.
He stood near one of the paintings, chatting with one of the young waitresses. "Mixing business with pleasure?" Sydney muttered to herself with a smug smile. Almost as if he had heard her, Sark's eyes drifted from the young girl to Sydney. Sydney raised his glass to him and downed the rest of it with one gulp.
The race was on.