Disclaimer: I own this little diddy, but not ALIAS:
Why?
It's Apple pie,
Falling from the sky;
It's flying apple pie!
It's way up high,
It's going to die!
A/N: Deep thought... hurts... ah! This is a short chapter, be forewarned. (I put myself in this position, so hate if ya want, but just know that the next one should be longer)
Vaughn ducked and dodged his way out of the forest and parade if bullets by using his wits and brains... wait... what?! When did he get THOSE? Anyway! So, Vaughn was really saved by the mysterious stranger. Who is still mysterious, for that matter... Vaughn never found out who he was. Nor will he ever...
--
Sydney had gone back to her hotel after the medics had picked up Lauren. She was still confused and disoriented, but figured the best course of action was to sleep on it, and then try and talk to Sark tomorrow.
Sleep, however, would not come. His words just kept coming back...
"No, love, I'm not. But, you're trying to help Lauren."
"Why was I helping her?"
"This is the same whore that stole Vaughn away from you."
"Yeah, but he did think I was dead..."
"The same one who treated you like husband-stealing scum."
"While that might be true, I did try and take her husband."
"And the same one who is a traitor to the country you seem to love so dearly."
"How does he KNOW that? Are they, they must be... are Sark and Lauren working together?"
--
Vaughn sighed. He was sick of the safe house. So very sick of the safe house. Sick enough of the safe house that he wrote a poem about the safe house...
"This house makes me sick.
It makes me want to throw up.
Spill all my guts out.
But the gunmen outside,
They want me dead,
So I can't go outside,
And I'm stuck."
Needless to say, Vaughn was bored.