Chapter 8
The next day's debrief was scheduled early in the morning as she walked into the room, halting in her step when she found herself in Arvin Sloane's line of vision. The older man's only response was a smile that left her wanting out of her own skin. Instinctively Sydney turned her head and met Vaughn's eyes, smiling briefly at him as she took her regular seat. Silently she acknowledged her father, Weiss and Marshall with a nod before she turned her attention to Kendall.
"Sydney, since you weren't here, this is Arvin Sloane," Kendall gestured to the man she was all too familiar with. Politely she stood and reached over to shake his hand, wiping her palm on her slacks once her hand was back under the table.
"It's a pleasure to be able to work with you Sydney. Your father used to talk about you often. So often I feel as though I know you myself," he chuckled. Her only response was a smile, forced and silent as she waited for Kendall to continue.
"Sloane will be working with us for however long we need him. He's an expert on Rambaldi and maintains contacts inside the Covenant which we can and will exploit when necessary," Jack explained.
"How is it that you have contacts inside the Covenant?" Sydney inquired.
"I worked with the CIA for many years Sydney, under a variety difference aliases," Sloane easily explained. "For the benefit of the CIA, several of these contacts are ones I've maintained to insure that any critical information which may be passed to me ends up in the right hands."
"Then what's the Covenant's end game?" she challenged.
"Rambaldi," he shrugged. "While it's never been proven, many who study Rambaldi believe that forty-seven of his key artifacts come together to form something called Il Dire -"
"The Telling," Vaughn cut him off. "What's so special about the Telling that the Covenant's willing to go to such lengths to acquire it?"
"I'm not entirely convinced the Covenant's first concern is acquiring it," Sloane added. "I think perhaps their first priority is making sure the CIA doesn't get all the necessary material to put together Il Dire."
"What does the woman Rambaldi prophecizes about have to do with Il Dire?" Sydney demanded.
"You have everything to do with it Sydney. You're critical to Rambaldi's prophecy. If his prophecy is to come to happen, you're essential."
"We don't know for certain that Sydney's the woman in the drawing," Vaughn defended.
"Who else do you suggest it is Agent Vaughn?" Sloane looked at the younger, a challenge in his eyes that made even Sydney flinch. "Do you know of someone else who bares such a resemblance to Sydney who could somehow be the woman Rambaldi speaks of?"
Sydney watched him, watched a silent struggle on Vaughn's face, confused when he dropped his eyes and shook his head. "No," he said quietly. "I don't."
"Then we work on the assumption that the woman in question is Sydney," Sloane continued. "Our first step will be to set up a meeting with one of my contacts. It's likely the Covenant is distressed by your disappearance Sydney, perhaps even monitoring you from time to time. I'd advise you to be cautious."
Sydney bit back a remark and remained quiet, only nodding.
"How can we be sure they'll trust you?" Vaughn questioned.
"They'll trust me Agent Vaughn," Sloane met the younger man's eyes, sending him a look that sent Sydney's skin crawling.
"I think that's all for now," Kendall realized. "We'll update again today if we learn any new information," he dismissed as they all went their separate ways.
"Are you okay?" Vaughn asked Sydney quietly, walking quickly to keep her pace as they walked out of the conference room.
"I should trust him," she mused softly, glancing quickly back at Sloane through the conference doors as he spoke to Jack and Kendall.
"Why? He's given you absolutely no reason to trust him."
"The CIA trusts him. My father trusts him," she reminded him. "You should trust him too," she pointed out, feeling frustrated. This cycle was neverending, with Sloane behind the wheel there were moments when she wondered if the fight was worth it. He'd somehow managed to once take everything away from her piece by piece, and now he'd done it again in one swoop. There were days when Sydney grew tired of it, moments when she was simply too exhausted to fight it.
"That's not going to happen," he quickly answered her, his voice low and fierce.
"Sydney," Jack spoke, stepping out of the conference room and towards them. Vaughn stepped away and smiled quickly at Sydney before he returned to his work area. "I was told you met with Dr. Barnett yesterday," he began as they walked towards her own desk.
"Actually, I met with Dr. Cox."
"How did it go?" he asked easily, his voice taking a paternal warmth that had once seemed so foreign to his personality. Except in this world he was used to being her father - Sydney just needed to adjust enough to let him.
"I'm going to be okay dad."
"Did Dr. Cox say that?"
"No, I did, but I'm sure she'd agree with me," she replied. "Right now there's nothing more I can do other than wait for my next mission."
"Good," he nodded. "Sloane would like to speak to you."
"Dad -"
"I think it would be a wise idea Sydney. He's a valuable asset to the CIA; he can be a valuable asset in helping us work to take down the Covenant and understand more about the last two years of your life," he pointed out. Then Jack moved in closer and dropped his voice, "use him Sydney. We are going to use every conceivable option the CIA offers, Arvin Sloane included, to get the answers you need."
"I'll to speak to him," she spoke curtly and walked back into the conference room. Sloane glanced up at her briefly before he went back to organizing his things back into his folder. "My father said you asked for me."
"Yes," he shut the folder and looked at her, a smile on his face. "I've been curious as to how you've been doing since our last . . . meeting."
"I've been fine."
"I've wondered if you look forward to us working together as enthusiastically as I do."
Sydney regarded him with a cold eye before she spoke, her voice low and threatening, "It's unlikely."
"We're allies again Sydney. Personally, I regard it as a nice change of pace. Perhaps we can be what we used to be to each other . . . I saw it in your eyes Sydney. I regarded you as a daughter just as strongly as you regarded me as a father."
"Nothing you've done or will ever do will convince me that you're my ally."
"I hope one day that'll change Sydney. I'll always be here for you," he walked towards her and placed a hand briefly on her arm. Before she could respond with her instincts, he pulled away and walked out of the room, leaving Sydney with goosebumps on her skin and a bitter taste in her mouth.
The day ended with no real progress regarding the Covenant and Rambaldi. Sloane was leaving Los Angeles the following night to meet with an apparent Covenant contact in Rome. Despite Sydney's adamant suggestion, they were sending him alone with only a wire for the CIA to observe the meeting. The work day had left her with nothing but annoyance and a horrible feeling in her gut made worse by the knowledge that there was nothing she could do to stop whatever Sloane was up to, not in her current position. It was difficult enough to take down Sloane with the entire CIA as her back up. Doing it without a single ally was unimaginable.
Whatever plans she hoped to have with Will and Francie were cut short when she checked her voicemail. Apparently it was one of their many anniversaries and Will was taking her best friend out of town overnight as a surprise. As much as she disliked the lack of company, Sydney was happy for her friends, glad they still had in each other what they so desperately deserved. The only thing she hated was that her missing two years had prevented her from watching their love truly bloom, just as the clone had robbed her of that opportunity in her other world.
The dinner choices at her apartment were slim. After a long shower, hot enough to burn away her daily aggrivation and constant annoyance with Sloane - at least for a little while - she was back out the door. There had been a time, not so long ago, when home was where she always wanted to be. It was her only comfort and sanctuary in the world, but try as she might, her new apartment didn't yet feel like it had become her real home. Needless to say, there were many opportunities when she didn't mind getting out of the house. Instead she drove around the neighborhood, looking for a place to find some coffee.
Twenty minutes later she found herself in line at an unassuming coffee shop. The simplicity of the place had caught her attention, and she stood behind a woman who appeared to be ordering the entire shop. Meanwhile was was debating the merits of a mocha versus a french vanilla latte. Behind her she heard a small group of college students talking quietly among themselves as she felt her stomach rumble and wondered if she should leave and find someplace to eat some dinner.
"Sydney?" a familiar voice asked as she turned around and smiled.
"Hey Vaughn," she replied, delighted to see him as the annoyed clerk waited impatiently to serve her. With only a second glance at him, she stepped up and ordered, feeling him close behind her. After she ordered, Sydney stepped aside and waited patiently as Vaughn ordered the brew she always remembered him drinking. Once he had his coffee in hand, he turned towards her, his face in a half smile.
"Would you mind if I joined you?" he inquired.
"No, not at all," she shook her head as they walked over to a quiet table in the corner.
"Are you okay?" Vaughn asked, his voice dipping intimately as they took their seats.
"I'm fine," she replied instinctively. When ( delete extra word "all") he tossed her was a skeptical look she was all too familiar with, Sydney took a sip of her coffee and elaborated. "I'm as well as can be expected. I need to move on, Vaughn. What I had then . . . I don't know if I can ever get it back, but I can't just stop, because then they win."
"There's a chance we'll make a breakthrough in Rome."
"I doubt it," she mumbled into her caffeinated drink.
"Me too," he replied. "Do you have any plans?" he questioned casually.
"No. My friends went away. It's there anniversary," Sydney explained, sitting back in the chair.
"Francie and Will?"
"Yeah," she smiled, amazed at how he took the time to remember something as insignificant as her friend's names. Surely the information was in her dossier, but it amazed her that he remembered. "I thought maybe we could have dinner tonight or something, but I didn't even realize it was their anniversary . . . These are things I should know Vaughn, they're two of my best friends and I don't even know their anniversary."
"Not everyone remembers anniversaries," he pointed out gently.
"I do," she softly shot back, candidly remembering their various anniversaries. October 1st, 2001, the day they met, to February 7, 2003, the first morning she woke up in his arms after the take down of the Alliance. Those days had meant something to her, and there had been a time when she'd known all the important days in her friend's lives as well.
"You'll learn them again. I'm sure your friend's don't mind that you don't remember."
"You're right," she realized. No matter how much it bothered her, Will and Francie were still so simply happy she was alive to care whether she remembered their anniversary. "What about you? Isn't there a Kings game tonight?"
"No, not yet," he chuckled. After a moment, Vaughn's eyes met hers, curious, "How did you know -"
"Your pen," she answered, hoping that he still carried a Kings pen and used it at work. "I saw the pen and just assumed."
"I have tickets to their first game, but that's not for another week," he explained.
"That sounds nice," Sydney smiled.
"I always try to make the first game," he shrugged. "They're not always victories, but they're always good games. The crowds are excited . . . The first game my father ever took me to was a Kings home opener," Vaughn explained.
"That's a nice memory," she commented.
"Yeah, it is," he whispered before his voice returned to it's normal tone. "Have you ever been to a Kings game?"
"A few times," she smiled, unable to meet his eyes as memories of their earlier time together resurfaced. "There are moments when those events feel like they're someone else's life," she whispered as he caught her attention.
"They're your memories Sydney, even if they don't make sense, you shouldn't lose them just because there's no one left to share them with."
"Sometimes I wonder if they mean as much though."
"Why would you wonder that?" Vaughn questioned, legitimately curious.
"Memories are supposed to mean something. They're supposed to lead to where you are in a relationship with someone . . . My memories don't do that."
"You don't know that Sydney. They're important to you, that's enough for them to mean something."
"Thank you," she smiled at him. "I'm sorry Vaughn, you've already done more than enough -"
"No one's forcing me to be here Syd," he stopped her. "I'm here because I want to be."
Sydney grinned and ducked her head, her face flushed from his intense gaze. For a moment she considered asking why, but decided it was too much to risk her luck. Vaughn was there with her and she wasn't interested in tempting fate. "So, when you're not drinking coffee, working or watching the Kings, what else do you do?" she asked, eager to learn of any differences between the man across from her and the version she'd known so well.
"I play hockey," he shrugged. "I play pool when I can," he confessed, his face nearly red as he took a sip of his coffee. "I have a dog."
"Really?" she asked, wondering what had become of Donovan the adorable bulldog. Admittedly she'd only seen him a handful of times once they began dating, but once she'd even taken the little guy to the vet and she'd felt a bond with him. Both, afterall, thoroughly and completely loved and were loved by Michael Vaughn. Sydney figured it was enough of a bond for anyone.
"What? Really do I have a dog or really I play hockey and pool?" he teased.
"Both," Sydney chuckled.
"Yes. He's a bulldog named Donovan. Not as fast as he used to be, but I've discovered that means I have more shoes than I did before," he grinned. "I've probably spent too much time playing hockey and pool for them to be considered hobbies."
"Obsessions?" she grinned.
Vaughn laughed and nodded, "Pretty much. What about you?"
"Honestly?" she asked. Sydney wasn't surprised when he turned serious and nodded, as interested in her as he'd ever been. "I really don't do anything else right now but work. I read, but most of that's work related. I liked to watch movies when I can. Mostly old ones, black and white versions of Shakespeare are some of my favorites," she explained as he smiled.
"You studied English, that's not a surprise."
"One of my friends used to love to garden," Sydney added, her voice dropping slightly as she thought of the woman who had been the closest thing to a mother that she could remember. "She's passed away now, but I used to help her garden. I always thought when I was older and had my own yard I'd like to give it a try," she shrugged.
"I'm sorry about your friend," he whispered, his voice sincere.
"I miss her, but she was suffering," she remembered. "This world . . . the life she was leading, she deserved better than what she had."
"Most good people do," he added.
"Yeah," she agreed, her lips curved into a small smile as she wiped away the moisture from her eyes. "I'm sorry Vaughn," Sydney glanced at her watch. "I should go. I haven't had dinner yet -" she explained as she began to gather up her few belongings.
"You should come," he blurted out as she slowly stood.
"Excuse me?" Sydney paused as he stood as well.
"To the Kings game. You should come with me."
"Vaughn -" she felt her skin burn as he began to protest.
"It could be fun Sydney. The first game of the season is always a great one to go too. It'll get you out of work," he pointed out practically. "I've been told the zamboni's fun if you don't really like hockey," Vaughn quietly added.
She studied him for a moment, his earnest expression as she battled her emotions. "I couldn't," she shook her head. "I don't want to take the ticket away from Weiss or anyone else -"
"The ticket doesn't belong to anyone else," he stopped her. "We should go Sydney."
This was, Sydney knew, a very bad idea on several different levels. Even so, her number of friends wasn't exactly overwhelming, not that it had ever been. Vaughn made her happy, even if just as a friend. After all she'd gone through, after all she now knew they had both gone through, maybe that was enough. There didn't need to be any guarantees or promises. They made each other happy and that was enough for now.
"We should," she agreed after what seemed to Vaughn to be silence that lingered for far too long.
"Great," he grinned widely, unable to hold back his enthusiasm.
"I should go now," she repeated.
"Sure," he nodded, still smiling. "We'll finalize the details at work . . . Or you have my number," he realized quickly.
"I do," Sydney smiled, taking this as silent permission, perhaps even something more, to call him. Vaughn smiled at her as she nodded and walked out of the shop, a goofy smile on her face.
"Do you believe in soul mates?"
Francie all but choked on her coffee as she looked up at her best friend. Monday night Sydney had arrived on the doorstep of the apartment Francie and Will shared, the place that had once belonged to Francie and Sydney. Her friends had been back from their trip for nearly a day, and she had allowed them their time to unwind from their trip before she dropped in on them. Francie had been thrilled to see her, pulling her down onto the sofa to chat and getting her coffee. With Will working on an assignment the two were alone and she was eager for some girl talk.
"Excuse me?" Francie took a smaller sip of the caramel liquid.
"Do you believe in soul mates Francie?" she asked again, her voice devoid of any expectations.
The other woman shrugged, "I don't know. Once, a long time ago, I thought Charlie might have been . . . " she snorted. "That certainly wasn't the case though, was it?"
"No," Sydney shook her head. "It wasn't."
"Is this about Danny?" she asked sympathetically.
"No," she assured her. In fact Sydney hadn't thought about Danny in days. Work had kept her busy - today she'd been informed that she wouldn't be on the team accompanying Sloane to meet his contact in Rome. In fact neither would Vaughn. Instead Weiss and her father would be amongst those to travel with him and observe the meeting on location. What angered her even more was learning that her father had been the one to insist she stay in Los Angeles and observe via video in the rotunda. While Sydney knew logically her father wanted what was best for her, Jack's best intentions had only annoyed her.
Still, she had plenty to look forward to. Sloane was meeting with his contact Wednesday night, Los Angeles time, while the first game of the Kings season was the following night. They had agreed upon details just an hour before while Vaughn walked her to her car, sharing her frustration in being unable to be more hands on in working with Sloane. When they reached the car, he'd held her door open for her and smiled at her before she pulled out of the parking garage.
"What's this about Syd?"
"Michael," she whispered as her friend's eyes widened. "We're going out tomorrow."
"Way to go Syd," Francie smiled and gently patted her friend's leg.
"It's really not a big deal," Sydney protested, despite the butterflies of anticipation fluttering throughout her body. "We're just going to a hockey game."
"I still think it sounds great."
"It does, doesn't it?" she grinned as Francie laughed.
"Wonderful even."
"I don't want to rush Francie . . . "
"He sounds like a nice guy Syd, I'm sure he won't hurt you -"
"I don't want to hurt him," she explained. Not once had it crossed her mind that Michael Vaughn would hurt her. At least not intentionally. Perhaps it was faulty on her part - this Michael Vaughn wasn't entirely the man she once knew, but idea was one that seemed as unlikely as anything ever had.
"You're not rushing him into a relationship, remember he asked you."
"I remember," she smiled.
Francie smiled and took a sip of her coffee. A moment later her gaze turned confused, "Do you even like hockey?"
"It's not bad," she laughed. "I've been to a few games."
"Really?" she was clearly surprised as Sydney nodded.
"Really."
"I don't remember that."
Probably because you weren't there, Sydney thought. "It was awhile ago," she said instead. "Plus, I like the zamboni."
"The zamboni?" Francie laughed. "The ice machine?"
"It's neat!" she protested.
"You must really like him," she commented. "You know, after the game, you might get hungry . . . You could always -"
"Francie," Sydney laughed. "Isn't our first date a little early for you to determine whether or not he passes inspection?" she teased.
"It's never too early," Francie insisted. "Seriously Syd," she started. "Have fun with this guy. This is your first date in well . . . a long time," she realized as her friend nodded. "I want you to have a great time. Just when you get home, call me and give me every little detail," she broke out into a grin as Sydney did the same.
"I will," she promised. "How was the weekend away?" she questioned, eager to change the subject.
"It was wonderful Syd. We went to this little bed and breakfast in the Napa Valley . . . We had such a nice time," she added and then shook her head.
"What?"
"Sometimes I think it should be weird, you know?" Francie looked to her friend, hoping she would understand. "Will and I were friends for so long . . . Now we're more, and I always thought it would be harder. I don't know, I guess I assumed if this ever happened it would you and Will, not Will and I . . . It's so easy to be with him like that. We have so much fun, and he really is so sweet."
"I'm happy for you," she reached out and squeezed her hand. "For both of you. I think it's wonderful."
"It has been so great," she agreed. "Now all we need is for you to find that with Michael."
Sydney ducked her head as a small smile briefly graced her features. "Yeah."
"Who knows, maybe a double wedding is in our future," Francie teased.
She looked up and laughed, "A double wedding?" she questioned, images of The Brady Bunch floating through her consciousness. "No."
"No," she agreed, both laughing good-naturedly. "Every detail?"
"Every detail," Sydney vowed.
"Work won't be a problem?"
"Nope," she shook her head. "Not yet at least . . . We really haven't even gone out on a date yet."
"You're a professional Syd. He must be too. I don't think it'll be a problem."
Sydney smiled and nodded.
Much to her amazement, Tuesday's workload allowed her to leave work at a reasonable time. Sydney paused only a moment at Vaughn's work station to say goodbye before she departed, looking forward to the night ahead of them. With plenty of time, she went languidly through the steps of her preparation. The music from the stereo in her living room carried in the apartment and even into the bathroom where she took the opportunity to enjoy a nice soak in her relatively unused bathtub. Thoughts of Sloane and his meeting in Rome, all the concerns that had trailed behind her through the work day evaporated into the air along with the bubbles she'd poured into the water in excess.
Due to her "death", most of her wardrobe was new, but for that particular night she'd gone out and bought something to add to her already updated closet. As the minutes ticked by to his arrival, Sydney dressed and stopped herself from spending more time on her hair or applying make up than she usually did. This was Vaughn, and while it was the first date she'd had with him in two years - and the first date he'd ever had with her - she was determined not to present herself as anything she wasn't. Vaughn knew her well enough already, the good and the bad, even from the brief time they'd spent together since he'd retrieved her in Hong Kong. He would get her, just the basics of who she was, whether what developed between them would mirror what they'd once shared remained unseen, but Sydney refused to use smoke and mirrors to force their relationship to blossom.
When the doorbell rang at quarter after six she almost jumped, although she'd been anticipating him all afternoon. Sydney walked to the door and only briefly checked the peephole before opening the door. "Hey," she smiled, meeting his eyes to find her expression mirrored there.
"Hi."
"Come on in," she moved over as he took a few steps into her place. "Did you find it okay?"
"You have a beautiful place," he noted, looking around briefly before turning back to her. "I found it fine," Vaughn answered.
"We should probably go."
"Right," he grinned. He waited as she locked up her home and then fell into step beside her as they walked towards her car. "Are you alright?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" she glanced over at him.
"Sloane," he spoke the word quietly, with a venom Sydney didn't fully understand.
"I'm fine," she promised. "Are you?"
"Yeah," he nodded.
"We'll know more soon," Sydney spoke, perhaps with more optimism than she felt. "I don't even believe it."
"Rambaldi?" he questioned as she nodded. "Me either," he agreed, holding the car door open for her. A few moments later Vaughn slid into the driver's side and twisted the keys in the ignition. "This whole cross between Nostradamus and Da Vinci sounds like something my Aunt Trish would tell me. Don't get me wrong," he spoke casually, turning out of her parking lot as she listened attentively. "I love my Aunt Trish, but I find it difficult to believe most of what she tells me."
"She worships crop circles?" she grinned.
Vaughn looked over at her and chuckled. "Something like that," he confirmed.
"The CIA believes it."
"I think whatever Rambaldi prophesized has the CIA so scared that they can't risk not believing it," Vaughn theorized. "Not you Syd -"
"I know," she nodded. "Have you read what Rambaldi said about me? Or at least the woman the CIA and the Covenant believe is me?"
"Yes," his voice was strained. "You're not capable of it Sydney. It's not who you are."
"How can you be sure Vaughn?" Sydney turned to study his profile. Sometimes, as she fought with insomnia and the twilight brought with it her fears and the weight of missing what she'd once had, Sydney wondered if perhaps Rambaldi was right.
Vaughn turned his head to capture her gaze, "I believe in you," he said simply before he turned back to the road. Sydney sat back and closed her eyes briefly, remembering the car jarring over a speed bump as she struggled to get changed in a trunk while the man next to her raced her out of the country during a time that happened in another life. "C'mon Syd, I wouldn't give just anyone my second ticket to opening day," he jostled as she opened her eyes and laughed.
There was something about the atmosphere at the Staples Center on opening day that was never quite duplicated at any of their other regular season home games. Vaughn parked the car and they made their way through the crowds. When he reached slightly behind him for her hand, Sydney tried only for a moment to convince herself it was a gesture to prevent them from losing each other in the crowd. After a moment whatever excuse she tried to feed herself failed and instead enjoyed the tiny intimacies that had so recently been commonplace.
Sydney enjoyed the game, but more importantly she enjoyed the company. They laughed and joined in with their fellow fans, and for the walk into and out of the arena he held her hand in his. As they waded through the crowds back to the car, she listened as Vaughn began to deconstruct the game in a manner she remembered so fondly. His exuberant commentary continued throughout the car ride back to her house. By the time they arrived back in the parking lot, walking the pathway towards her front door, he'd winded down enough to turn to her and inquire about her favorite part.
"The zamboni's your favorite part?" he laughed. Sydney grinned, opening the front door and turning back towards him, her free hand still holding his.
"I like the zamboni," she shrugged happily. Under the fluorescent porch light their laughter died down as she briefly weighed her options. "Would you like to come in and have some coffee?"
"Sure," he nodded, allowing her to gently tug his hand and walk with him into the dim apartment.
"I'll start it," she offered, ending their contact as she walked over to turn on a lamp, the light in the room still dim. "Sit down," she waved off his silent offer to help as Vaughn shrugged off his jacket and took a seat at her compact kitchen table. "I set it up before I left, so it should only take a few minutes to perk," she explained. "Francie's going to kill me for not taking you to the restaurant for coffee," she murmured as she grabbed two coffee mugs out of the cabinet.
Vaughn chuckled from his seat at the counter, his eyes following her as she moved around the room. "Why?"
Sydney paused as she set the creamer down and looked at him. "She wants to meet you," she admitted, feeling her skin burn at how ridiculous it must sound. Before it had made sense, before he'd heard about Francie a million times and was as eager to meet her as Francie had been to meet him. This time around, her friend's rush to meet the mysterious guy from work seemed a bit silly.
"Sure, when?" he replied casually.
She was pouring the hot liquid into their respective mugs when she stopped to look at him. "Vaughn, really, Francie's just being -"
"Francie's being Francie?" he pointed out. Vaughn stood and walked over to help her prepare their coffee. "Sydney, she's your friend. Everyone spent the last two years believing you were dead. It's justifiable that they are being a little overprotective," he assured her as they took seats next to one another at the counter.
"She's being nosey, Will will be overprotective," she corrected, taking a small sip of her coffee. After a moment she looked over at him and caught his eye. "Really Vaughn, I don't want to push you . . . this," she gestured to the small space between them. "Actually, everything in my life right now is so new. Will and Francie can come on strong, I don't want -"
"You're not pushing me Syd," he stopped her. "What about dinner this weekend?" he suggested. Less than a moment later Vaughn quickly continued, "Unless this is too fast for you. After everything with Danny, and you are still adjusting to being back -"
"No," Sydney shook her head. "It's not about Danny," she briefly looked down at the warm coffee in her hands and considered her words. When she continued, her voice was low and he leaned slightly closer to hear. "I've learned a lot, being back. As horrible as it sounds, it's really helped to put things into perspective. One thing I've learned is that some connections last," she turned, finding his eyes as soft as she ever remembered them being. Despite her mixed emotions, Sydney smiled and realized he was different around her. Even in the beginning Vaughn had been different around her than the rest of the world. He'd hold her gaze a bit longer, his eyes would find hers without hesitation and his gaze would rarely be anything less than warm. Even his voice would alter when he spoke to her, something so unconscious that meant so much. "Francie and Will . . . my parents . . . They're the relationships that have held up, that two years really can't destroy," she continued, her voice still low. "Danny . . . two years just proved that in the end it wouldn't have worked out anyway."
"I'm sorry," he spoke softly and reached for her hand.
Sydney smiled and shook her head, "don't be. What I meant to say Vaughn is I'm fine. Really. Danny and I . . . We're through," she spoke the words far easier than she thought she would. "I'll always care for him, and I only want the best for him, but we're not a part of each other's lives anymore. There's not a place for me in his life now, or a place for him in mine and maybe it's best that way."
"Okay," he nodded.
"So, Saturday?" she grinned, aware that to Francie the less than weeks wait to meet him would seem to stretch out for a lifetime.
"Saturday," Vaughn nodded. She took a sip of her coffee again and looked over as he chuckled uneasily. "I never really met any of Lauren's friends," he conceded. Sydney put down her mug and gently squeezed his hand, listening as he spoke. "She never really met any of mine either, besides Weiss. We had very separate lives," he conceded, his head dropping as he quickly squeezed the bridge of his nose. "We were married but our lives were so separate. Hell, we worked together and at times we still seemed to have entirely separate lives," he realized. "I loved her," he whispered, "but our marriage wasn't what I always imagined my marriage would be."
"Vaughn -"
"Syd," he looked at her, easily reading her concern. "I'm fine. Lauren's gone. I loved her, but she's gone and the world goes on. I'm fine," he repeated. "I want to meet your friends."
"Okay," Sydney smiled brightly. "We'll go to Francie's restaurant. She likes to have home court advantage," she playfully remarked as he laughed.
"Good," he nodded. Regretfully he looked at his watch and back at her. "I should probably -"
"Yeah," she agreed as they stood. "Thank you," she said as they walked to the door.
"Thanks for coming," he turned as they stopped in front of the door and faced each other. Vaughn reached out, this time taking both of her hands into his. Sydney's eyes slid shut as he leaned closer and pressed his lips to her forehead. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers as her eyes opened.
"Tomorrow?" she whispered, the smile on her face small but her features glowing.
"Yeah," he smiled, squeezing her hands one more time before he pulled back and she let him out the door.
The next day's debrief was scheduled early in the morning as she walked into the room, halting in her step when she found herself in Arvin Sloane's line of vision. The older man's only response was a smile that left her wanting out of her own skin. Instinctively Sydney turned her head and met Vaughn's eyes, smiling briefly at him as she took her regular seat. Silently she acknowledged her father, Weiss and Marshall with a nod before she turned her attention to Kendall.
"Sydney, since you weren't here, this is Arvin Sloane," Kendall gestured to the man she was all too familiar with. Politely she stood and reached over to shake his hand, wiping her palm on her slacks once her hand was back under the table.
"It's a pleasure to be able to work with you Sydney. Your father used to talk about you often. So often I feel as though I know you myself," he chuckled. Her only response was a smile, forced and silent as she waited for Kendall to continue.
"Sloane will be working with us for however long we need him. He's an expert on Rambaldi and maintains contacts inside the Covenant which we can and will exploit when necessary," Jack explained.
"How is it that you have contacts inside the Covenant?" Sydney inquired.
"I worked with the CIA for many years Sydney, under a variety difference aliases," Sloane easily explained. "For the benefit of the CIA, several of these contacts are ones I've maintained to insure that any critical information which may be passed to me ends up in the right hands."
"Then what's the Covenant's end game?" she challenged.
"Rambaldi," he shrugged. "While it's never been proven, many who study Rambaldi believe that forty-seven of his key artifacts come together to form something called Il Dire -"
"The Telling," Vaughn cut him off. "What's so special about the Telling that the Covenant's willing to go to such lengths to acquire it?"
"I'm not entirely convinced the Covenant's first concern is acquiring it," Sloane added. "I think perhaps their first priority is making sure the CIA doesn't get all the necessary material to put together Il Dire."
"What does the woman Rambaldi prophecizes about have to do with Il Dire?" Sydney demanded.
"You have everything to do with it Sydney. You're critical to Rambaldi's prophecy. If his prophecy is to come to happen, you're essential."
"We don't know for certain that Sydney's the woman in the drawing," Vaughn defended.
"Who else do you suggest it is Agent Vaughn?" Sloane looked at the younger, a challenge in his eyes that made even Sydney flinch. "Do you know of someone else who bares such a resemblance to Sydney who could somehow be the woman Rambaldi speaks of?"
Sydney watched him, watched a silent struggle on Vaughn's face, confused when he dropped his eyes and shook his head. "No," he said quietly. "I don't."
"Then we work on the assumption that the woman in question is Sydney," Sloane continued. "Our first step will be to set up a meeting with one of my contacts. It's likely the Covenant is distressed by your disappearance Sydney, perhaps even monitoring you from time to time. I'd advise you to be cautious."
Sydney bit back a remark and remained quiet, only nodding.
"How can we be sure they'll trust you?" Vaughn questioned.
"They'll trust me Agent Vaughn," Sloane met the younger man's eyes, sending him a look that sent Sydney's skin crawling.
"I think that's all for now," Kendall realized. "We'll update again today if we learn any new information," he dismissed as they all went their separate ways.
"Are you okay?" Vaughn asked Sydney quietly, walking quickly to keep her pace as they walked out of the conference room.
"I should trust him," she mused softly, glancing quickly back at Sloane through the conference doors as he spoke to Jack and Kendall.
"Why? He's given you absolutely no reason to trust him."
"The CIA trusts him. My father trusts him," she reminded him. "You should trust him too," she pointed out, feeling frustrated. This cycle was neverending, with Sloane behind the wheel there were moments when she wondered if the fight was worth it. He'd somehow managed to once take everything away from her piece by piece, and now he'd done it again in one swoop. There were days when Sydney grew tired of it, moments when she was simply too exhausted to fight it.
"That's not going to happen," he quickly answered her, his voice low and fierce.
"Sydney," Jack spoke, stepping out of the conference room and towards them. Vaughn stepped away and smiled quickly at Sydney before he returned to his work area. "I was told you met with Dr. Barnett yesterday," he began as they walked towards her own desk.
"Actually, I met with Dr. Cox."
"How did it go?" he asked easily, his voice taking a paternal warmth that had once seemed so foreign to his personality. Except in this world he was used to being her father - Sydney just needed to adjust enough to let him.
"I'm going to be okay dad."
"Did Dr. Cox say that?"
"No, I did, but I'm sure she'd agree with me," she replied. "Right now there's nothing more I can do other than wait for my next mission."
"Good," he nodded. "Sloane would like to speak to you."
"Dad -"
"I think it would be a wise idea Sydney. He's a valuable asset to the CIA; he can be a valuable asset in helping us work to take down the Covenant and understand more about the last two years of your life," he pointed out. Then Jack moved in closer and dropped his voice, "use him Sydney. We are going to use every conceivable option the CIA offers, Arvin Sloane included, to get the answers you need."
"I'll to speak to him," she spoke curtly and walked back into the conference room. Sloane glanced up at her briefly before he went back to organizing his things back into his folder. "My father said you asked for me."
"Yes," he shut the folder and looked at her, a smile on his face. "I've been curious as to how you've been doing since our last . . . meeting."
"I've been fine."
"I've wondered if you look forward to us working together as enthusiastically as I do."
Sydney regarded him with a cold eye before she spoke, her voice low and threatening, "It's unlikely."
"We're allies again Sydney. Personally, I regard it as a nice change of pace. Perhaps we can be what we used to be to each other . . . I saw it in your eyes Sydney. I regarded you as a daughter just as strongly as you regarded me as a father."
"Nothing you've done or will ever do will convince me that you're my ally."
"I hope one day that'll change Sydney. I'll always be here for you," he walked towards her and placed a hand briefly on her arm. Before she could respond with her instincts, he pulled away and walked out of the room, leaving Sydney with goosebumps on her skin and a bitter taste in her mouth.
The day ended with no real progress regarding the Covenant and Rambaldi. Sloane was leaving Los Angeles the following night to meet with an apparent Covenant contact in Rome. Despite Sydney's adamant suggestion, they were sending him alone with only a wire for the CIA to observe the meeting. The work day had left her with nothing but annoyance and a horrible feeling in her gut made worse by the knowledge that there was nothing she could do to stop whatever Sloane was up to, not in her current position. It was difficult enough to take down Sloane with the entire CIA as her back up. Doing it without a single ally was unimaginable.
Whatever plans she hoped to have with Will and Francie were cut short when she checked her voicemail. Apparently it was one of their many anniversaries and Will was taking her best friend out of town overnight as a surprise. As much as she disliked the lack of company, Sydney was happy for her friends, glad they still had in each other what they so desperately deserved. The only thing she hated was that her missing two years had prevented her from watching their love truly bloom, just as the clone had robbed her of that opportunity in her other world.
The dinner choices at her apartment were slim. After a long shower, hot enough to burn away her daily aggrivation and constant annoyance with Sloane - at least for a little while - she was back out the door. There had been a time, not so long ago, when home was where she always wanted to be. It was her only comfort and sanctuary in the world, but try as she might, her new apartment didn't yet feel like it had become her real home. Needless to say, there were many opportunities when she didn't mind getting out of the house. Instead she drove around the neighborhood, looking for a place to find some coffee.
Twenty minutes later she found herself in line at an unassuming coffee shop. The simplicity of the place had caught her attention, and she stood behind a woman who appeared to be ordering the entire shop. Meanwhile was was debating the merits of a mocha versus a french vanilla latte. Behind her she heard a small group of college students talking quietly among themselves as she felt her stomach rumble and wondered if she should leave and find someplace to eat some dinner.
"Sydney?" a familiar voice asked as she turned around and smiled.
"Hey Vaughn," she replied, delighted to see him as the annoyed clerk waited impatiently to serve her. With only a second glance at him, she stepped up and ordered, feeling him close behind her. After she ordered, Sydney stepped aside and waited patiently as Vaughn ordered the brew she always remembered him drinking. Once he had his coffee in hand, he turned towards her, his face in a half smile.
"Would you mind if I joined you?" he inquired.
"No, not at all," she shook her head as they walked over to a quiet table in the corner.
"Are you okay?" Vaughn asked, his voice dipping intimately as they took their seats.
"I'm fine," she replied instinctively. When ( delete extra word "all") he tossed her was a skeptical look she was all too familiar with, Sydney took a sip of her coffee and elaborated. "I'm as well as can be expected. I need to move on, Vaughn. What I had then . . . I don't know if I can ever get it back, but I can't just stop, because then they win."
"There's a chance we'll make a breakthrough in Rome."
"I doubt it," she mumbled into her caffeinated drink.
"Me too," he replied. "Do you have any plans?" he questioned casually.
"No. My friends went away. It's there anniversary," Sydney explained, sitting back in the chair.
"Francie and Will?"
"Yeah," she smiled, amazed at how he took the time to remember something as insignificant as her friend's names. Surely the information was in her dossier, but it amazed her that he remembered. "I thought maybe we could have dinner tonight or something, but I didn't even realize it was their anniversary . . . These are things I should know Vaughn, they're two of my best friends and I don't even know their anniversary."
"Not everyone remembers anniversaries," he pointed out gently.
"I do," she softly shot back, candidly remembering their various anniversaries. October 1st, 2001, the day they met, to February 7, 2003, the first morning she woke up in his arms after the take down of the Alliance. Those days had meant something to her, and there had been a time when she'd known all the important days in her friend's lives as well.
"You'll learn them again. I'm sure your friend's don't mind that you don't remember."
"You're right," she realized. No matter how much it bothered her, Will and Francie were still so simply happy she was alive to care whether she remembered their anniversary. "What about you? Isn't there a Kings game tonight?"
"No, not yet," he chuckled. After a moment, Vaughn's eyes met hers, curious, "How did you know -"
"Your pen," she answered, hoping that he still carried a Kings pen and used it at work. "I saw the pen and just assumed."
"I have tickets to their first game, but that's not for another week," he explained.
"That sounds nice," Sydney smiled.
"I always try to make the first game," he shrugged. "They're not always victories, but they're always good games. The crowds are excited . . . The first game my father ever took me to was a Kings home opener," Vaughn explained.
"That's a nice memory," she commented.
"Yeah, it is," he whispered before his voice returned to it's normal tone. "Have you ever been to a Kings game?"
"A few times," she smiled, unable to meet his eyes as memories of their earlier time together resurfaced. "There are moments when those events feel like they're someone else's life," she whispered as he caught her attention.
"They're your memories Sydney, even if they don't make sense, you shouldn't lose them just because there's no one left to share them with."
"Sometimes I wonder if they mean as much though."
"Why would you wonder that?" Vaughn questioned, legitimately curious.
"Memories are supposed to mean something. They're supposed to lead to where you are in a relationship with someone . . . My memories don't do that."
"You don't know that Sydney. They're important to you, that's enough for them to mean something."
"Thank you," she smiled at him. "I'm sorry Vaughn, you've already done more than enough -"
"No one's forcing me to be here Syd," he stopped her. "I'm here because I want to be."
Sydney grinned and ducked her head, her face flushed from his intense gaze. For a moment she considered asking why, but decided it was too much to risk her luck. Vaughn was there with her and she wasn't interested in tempting fate. "So, when you're not drinking coffee, working or watching the Kings, what else do you do?" she asked, eager to learn of any differences between the man across from her and the version she'd known so well.
"I play hockey," he shrugged. "I play pool when I can," he confessed, his face nearly red as he took a sip of his coffee. "I have a dog."
"Really?" she asked, wondering what had become of Donovan the adorable bulldog. Admittedly she'd only seen him a handful of times once they began dating, but once she'd even taken the little guy to the vet and she'd felt a bond with him. Both, afterall, thoroughly and completely loved and were loved by Michael Vaughn. Sydney figured it was enough of a bond for anyone.
"What? Really do I have a dog or really I play hockey and pool?" he teased.
"Both," Sydney chuckled.
"Yes. He's a bulldog named Donovan. Not as fast as he used to be, but I've discovered that means I have more shoes than I did before," he grinned. "I've probably spent too much time playing hockey and pool for them to be considered hobbies."
"Obsessions?" she grinned.
Vaughn laughed and nodded, "Pretty much. What about you?"
"Honestly?" she asked. Sydney wasn't surprised when he turned serious and nodded, as interested in her as he'd ever been. "I really don't do anything else right now but work. I read, but most of that's work related. I liked to watch movies when I can. Mostly old ones, black and white versions of Shakespeare are some of my favorites," she explained as he smiled.
"You studied English, that's not a surprise."
"One of my friends used to love to garden," Sydney added, her voice dropping slightly as she thought of the woman who had been the closest thing to a mother that she could remember. "She's passed away now, but I used to help her garden. I always thought when I was older and had my own yard I'd like to give it a try," she shrugged.
"I'm sorry about your friend," he whispered, his voice sincere.
"I miss her, but she was suffering," she remembered. "This world . . . the life she was leading, she deserved better than what she had."
"Most good people do," he added.
"Yeah," she agreed, her lips curved into a small smile as she wiped away the moisture from her eyes. "I'm sorry Vaughn," Sydney glanced at her watch. "I should go. I haven't had dinner yet -" she explained as she began to gather up her few belongings.
"You should come," he blurted out as she slowly stood.
"Excuse me?" Sydney paused as he stood as well.
"To the Kings game. You should come with me."
"Vaughn -" she felt her skin burn as he began to protest.
"It could be fun Sydney. The first game of the season is always a great one to go too. It'll get you out of work," he pointed out practically. "I've been told the zamboni's fun if you don't really like hockey," Vaughn quietly added.
She studied him for a moment, his earnest expression as she battled her emotions. "I couldn't," she shook her head. "I don't want to take the ticket away from Weiss or anyone else -"
"The ticket doesn't belong to anyone else," he stopped her. "We should go Sydney."
This was, Sydney knew, a very bad idea on several different levels. Even so, her number of friends wasn't exactly overwhelming, not that it had ever been. Vaughn made her happy, even if just as a friend. After all she'd gone through, after all she now knew they had both gone through, maybe that was enough. There didn't need to be any guarantees or promises. They made each other happy and that was enough for now.
"We should," she agreed after what seemed to Vaughn to be silence that lingered for far too long.
"Great," he grinned widely, unable to hold back his enthusiasm.
"I should go now," she repeated.
"Sure," he nodded, still smiling. "We'll finalize the details at work . . . Or you have my number," he realized quickly.
"I do," Sydney smiled, taking this as silent permission, perhaps even something more, to call him. Vaughn smiled at her as she nodded and walked out of the shop, a goofy smile on her face.
"Do you believe in soul mates?"
Francie all but choked on her coffee as she looked up at her best friend. Monday night Sydney had arrived on the doorstep of the apartment Francie and Will shared, the place that had once belonged to Francie and Sydney. Her friends had been back from their trip for nearly a day, and she had allowed them their time to unwind from their trip before she dropped in on them. Francie had been thrilled to see her, pulling her down onto the sofa to chat and getting her coffee. With Will working on an assignment the two were alone and she was eager for some girl talk.
"Excuse me?" Francie took a smaller sip of the caramel liquid.
"Do you believe in soul mates Francie?" she asked again, her voice devoid of any expectations.
The other woman shrugged, "I don't know. Once, a long time ago, I thought Charlie might have been . . . " she snorted. "That certainly wasn't the case though, was it?"
"No," Sydney shook her head. "It wasn't."
"Is this about Danny?" she asked sympathetically.
"No," she assured her. In fact Sydney hadn't thought about Danny in days. Work had kept her busy - today she'd been informed that she wouldn't be on the team accompanying Sloane to meet his contact in Rome. In fact neither would Vaughn. Instead Weiss and her father would be amongst those to travel with him and observe the meeting on location. What angered her even more was learning that her father had been the one to insist she stay in Los Angeles and observe via video in the rotunda. While Sydney knew logically her father wanted what was best for her, Jack's best intentions had only annoyed her.
Still, she had plenty to look forward to. Sloane was meeting with his contact Wednesday night, Los Angeles time, while the first game of the Kings season was the following night. They had agreed upon details just an hour before while Vaughn walked her to her car, sharing her frustration in being unable to be more hands on in working with Sloane. When they reached the car, he'd held her door open for her and smiled at her before she pulled out of the parking garage.
"What's this about Syd?"
"Michael," she whispered as her friend's eyes widened. "We're going out tomorrow."
"Way to go Syd," Francie smiled and gently patted her friend's leg.
"It's really not a big deal," Sydney protested, despite the butterflies of anticipation fluttering throughout her body. "We're just going to a hockey game."
"I still think it sounds great."
"It does, doesn't it?" she grinned as Francie laughed.
"Wonderful even."
"I don't want to rush Francie . . . "
"He sounds like a nice guy Syd, I'm sure he won't hurt you -"
"I don't want to hurt him," she explained. Not once had it crossed her mind that Michael Vaughn would hurt her. At least not intentionally. Perhaps it was faulty on her part - this Michael Vaughn wasn't entirely the man she once knew, but idea was one that seemed as unlikely as anything ever had.
"You're not rushing him into a relationship, remember he asked you."
"I remember," she smiled.
Francie smiled and took a sip of her coffee. A moment later her gaze turned confused, "Do you even like hockey?"
"It's not bad," she laughed. "I've been to a few games."
"Really?" she was clearly surprised as Sydney nodded.
"Really."
"I don't remember that."
Probably because you weren't there, Sydney thought. "It was awhile ago," she said instead. "Plus, I like the zamboni."
"The zamboni?" Francie laughed. "The ice machine?"
"It's neat!" she protested.
"You must really like him," she commented. "You know, after the game, you might get hungry . . . You could always -"
"Francie," Sydney laughed. "Isn't our first date a little early for you to determine whether or not he passes inspection?" she teased.
"It's never too early," Francie insisted. "Seriously Syd," she started. "Have fun with this guy. This is your first date in well . . . a long time," she realized as her friend nodded. "I want you to have a great time. Just when you get home, call me and give me every little detail," she broke out into a grin as Sydney did the same.
"I will," she promised. "How was the weekend away?" she questioned, eager to change the subject.
"It was wonderful Syd. We went to this little bed and breakfast in the Napa Valley . . . We had such a nice time," she added and then shook her head.
"What?"
"Sometimes I think it should be weird, you know?" Francie looked to her friend, hoping she would understand. "Will and I were friends for so long . . . Now we're more, and I always thought it would be harder. I don't know, I guess I assumed if this ever happened it would you and Will, not Will and I . . . It's so easy to be with him like that. We have so much fun, and he really is so sweet."
"I'm happy for you," she reached out and squeezed her hand. "For both of you. I think it's wonderful."
"It has been so great," she agreed. "Now all we need is for you to find that with Michael."
Sydney ducked her head as a small smile briefly graced her features. "Yeah."
"Who knows, maybe a double wedding is in our future," Francie teased.
She looked up and laughed, "A double wedding?" she questioned, images of The Brady Bunch floating through her consciousness. "No."
"No," she agreed, both laughing good-naturedly. "Every detail?"
"Every detail," Sydney vowed.
"Work won't be a problem?"
"Nope," she shook her head. "Not yet at least . . . We really haven't even gone out on a date yet."
"You're a professional Syd. He must be too. I don't think it'll be a problem."
Sydney smiled and nodded.
Much to her amazement, Tuesday's workload allowed her to leave work at a reasonable time. Sydney paused only a moment at Vaughn's work station to say goodbye before she departed, looking forward to the night ahead of them. With plenty of time, she went languidly through the steps of her preparation. The music from the stereo in her living room carried in the apartment and even into the bathroom where she took the opportunity to enjoy a nice soak in her relatively unused bathtub. Thoughts of Sloane and his meeting in Rome, all the concerns that had trailed behind her through the work day evaporated into the air along with the bubbles she'd poured into the water in excess.
Due to her "death", most of her wardrobe was new, but for that particular night she'd gone out and bought something to add to her already updated closet. As the minutes ticked by to his arrival, Sydney dressed and stopped herself from spending more time on her hair or applying make up than she usually did. This was Vaughn, and while it was the first date she'd had with him in two years - and the first date he'd ever had with her - she was determined not to present herself as anything she wasn't. Vaughn knew her well enough already, the good and the bad, even from the brief time they'd spent together since he'd retrieved her in Hong Kong. He would get her, just the basics of who she was, whether what developed between them would mirror what they'd once shared remained unseen, but Sydney refused to use smoke and mirrors to force their relationship to blossom.
When the doorbell rang at quarter after six she almost jumped, although she'd been anticipating him all afternoon. Sydney walked to the door and only briefly checked the peephole before opening the door. "Hey," she smiled, meeting his eyes to find her expression mirrored there.
"Hi."
"Come on in," she moved over as he took a few steps into her place. "Did you find it okay?"
"You have a beautiful place," he noted, looking around briefly before turning back to her. "I found it fine," Vaughn answered.
"We should probably go."
"Right," he grinned. He waited as she locked up her home and then fell into step beside her as they walked towards her car. "Are you alright?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" she glanced over at him.
"Sloane," he spoke the word quietly, with a venom Sydney didn't fully understand.
"I'm fine," she promised. "Are you?"
"Yeah," he nodded.
"We'll know more soon," Sydney spoke, perhaps with more optimism than she felt. "I don't even believe it."
"Rambaldi?" he questioned as she nodded. "Me either," he agreed, holding the car door open for her. A few moments later Vaughn slid into the driver's side and twisted the keys in the ignition. "This whole cross between Nostradamus and Da Vinci sounds like something my Aunt Trish would tell me. Don't get me wrong," he spoke casually, turning out of her parking lot as she listened attentively. "I love my Aunt Trish, but I find it difficult to believe most of what she tells me."
"She worships crop circles?" she grinned.
Vaughn looked over at her and chuckled. "Something like that," he confirmed.
"The CIA believes it."
"I think whatever Rambaldi prophesized has the CIA so scared that they can't risk not believing it," Vaughn theorized. "Not you Syd -"
"I know," she nodded. "Have you read what Rambaldi said about me? Or at least the woman the CIA and the Covenant believe is me?"
"Yes," his voice was strained. "You're not capable of it Sydney. It's not who you are."
"How can you be sure Vaughn?" Sydney turned to study his profile. Sometimes, as she fought with insomnia and the twilight brought with it her fears and the weight of missing what she'd once had, Sydney wondered if perhaps Rambaldi was right.
Vaughn turned his head to capture her gaze, "I believe in you," he said simply before he turned back to the road. Sydney sat back and closed her eyes briefly, remembering the car jarring over a speed bump as she struggled to get changed in a trunk while the man next to her raced her out of the country during a time that happened in another life. "C'mon Syd, I wouldn't give just anyone my second ticket to opening day," he jostled as she opened her eyes and laughed.
There was something about the atmosphere at the Staples Center on opening day that was never quite duplicated at any of their other regular season home games. Vaughn parked the car and they made their way through the crowds. When he reached slightly behind him for her hand, Sydney tried only for a moment to convince herself it was a gesture to prevent them from losing each other in the crowd. After a moment whatever excuse she tried to feed herself failed and instead enjoyed the tiny intimacies that had so recently been commonplace.
Sydney enjoyed the game, but more importantly she enjoyed the company. They laughed and joined in with their fellow fans, and for the walk into and out of the arena he held her hand in his. As they waded through the crowds back to the car, she listened as Vaughn began to deconstruct the game in a manner she remembered so fondly. His exuberant commentary continued throughout the car ride back to her house. By the time they arrived back in the parking lot, walking the pathway towards her front door, he'd winded down enough to turn to her and inquire about her favorite part.
"The zamboni's your favorite part?" he laughed. Sydney grinned, opening the front door and turning back towards him, her free hand still holding his.
"I like the zamboni," she shrugged happily. Under the fluorescent porch light their laughter died down as she briefly weighed her options. "Would you like to come in and have some coffee?"
"Sure," he nodded, allowing her to gently tug his hand and walk with him into the dim apartment.
"I'll start it," she offered, ending their contact as she walked over to turn on a lamp, the light in the room still dim. "Sit down," she waved off his silent offer to help as Vaughn shrugged off his jacket and took a seat at her compact kitchen table. "I set it up before I left, so it should only take a few minutes to perk," she explained. "Francie's going to kill me for not taking you to the restaurant for coffee," she murmured as she grabbed two coffee mugs out of the cabinet.
Vaughn chuckled from his seat at the counter, his eyes following her as she moved around the room. "Why?"
Sydney paused as she set the creamer down and looked at him. "She wants to meet you," she admitted, feeling her skin burn at how ridiculous it must sound. Before it had made sense, before he'd heard about Francie a million times and was as eager to meet her as Francie had been to meet him. This time around, her friend's rush to meet the mysterious guy from work seemed a bit silly.
"Sure, when?" he replied casually.
She was pouring the hot liquid into their respective mugs when she stopped to look at him. "Vaughn, really, Francie's just being -"
"Francie's being Francie?" he pointed out. Vaughn stood and walked over to help her prepare their coffee. "Sydney, she's your friend. Everyone spent the last two years believing you were dead. It's justifiable that they are being a little overprotective," he assured her as they took seats next to one another at the counter.
"She's being nosey, Will will be overprotective," she corrected, taking a small sip of her coffee. After a moment she looked over at him and caught his eye. "Really Vaughn, I don't want to push you . . . this," she gestured to the small space between them. "Actually, everything in my life right now is so new. Will and Francie can come on strong, I don't want -"
"You're not pushing me Syd," he stopped her. "What about dinner this weekend?" he suggested. Less than a moment later Vaughn quickly continued, "Unless this is too fast for you. After everything with Danny, and you are still adjusting to being back -"
"No," Sydney shook her head. "It's not about Danny," she briefly looked down at the warm coffee in her hands and considered her words. When she continued, her voice was low and he leaned slightly closer to hear. "I've learned a lot, being back. As horrible as it sounds, it's really helped to put things into perspective. One thing I've learned is that some connections last," she turned, finding his eyes as soft as she ever remembered them being. Despite her mixed emotions, Sydney smiled and realized he was different around her. Even in the beginning Vaughn had been different around her than the rest of the world. He'd hold her gaze a bit longer, his eyes would find hers without hesitation and his gaze would rarely be anything less than warm. Even his voice would alter when he spoke to her, something so unconscious that meant so much. "Francie and Will . . . my parents . . . They're the relationships that have held up, that two years really can't destroy," she continued, her voice still low. "Danny . . . two years just proved that in the end it wouldn't have worked out anyway."
"I'm sorry," he spoke softly and reached for her hand.
Sydney smiled and shook her head, "don't be. What I meant to say Vaughn is I'm fine. Really. Danny and I . . . We're through," she spoke the words far easier than she thought she would. "I'll always care for him, and I only want the best for him, but we're not a part of each other's lives anymore. There's not a place for me in his life now, or a place for him in mine and maybe it's best that way."
"Okay," he nodded.
"So, Saturday?" she grinned, aware that to Francie the less than weeks wait to meet him would seem to stretch out for a lifetime.
"Saturday," Vaughn nodded. She took a sip of her coffee again and looked over as he chuckled uneasily. "I never really met any of Lauren's friends," he conceded. Sydney put down her mug and gently squeezed his hand, listening as he spoke. "She never really met any of mine either, besides Weiss. We had very separate lives," he conceded, his head dropping as he quickly squeezed the bridge of his nose. "We were married but our lives were so separate. Hell, we worked together and at times we still seemed to have entirely separate lives," he realized. "I loved her," he whispered, "but our marriage wasn't what I always imagined my marriage would be."
"Vaughn -"
"Syd," he looked at her, easily reading her concern. "I'm fine. Lauren's gone. I loved her, but she's gone and the world goes on. I'm fine," he repeated. "I want to meet your friends."
"Okay," Sydney smiled brightly. "We'll go to Francie's restaurant. She likes to have home court advantage," she playfully remarked as he laughed.
"Good," he nodded. Regretfully he looked at his watch and back at her. "I should probably -"
"Yeah," she agreed as they stood. "Thank you," she said as they walked to the door.
"Thanks for coming," he turned as they stopped in front of the door and faced each other. Vaughn reached out, this time taking both of her hands into his. Sydney's eyes slid shut as he leaned closer and pressed his lips to her forehead. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers as her eyes opened.
"Tomorrow?" she whispered, the smile on her face small but her features glowing.
"Yeah," he smiled, squeezing her hands one more time before he pulled back and she let him out the door.