Alternate Infatuation
Sequel to Alternate Existence. We all know that certain people are simply destined to be together. When Syd finally gets out of the life of espionage she was drawn into at sixteen, how will she find her own destiny?
Chapter 4: Today It's Probably Lina
Disclaimer: Author does not own most of these characters. Said author does not wish to be sued. However, Jeffrey is all mine! This is also my original plot, and if anything resembling it ever shows up on Alias, I'm suing!
Another building. Another interrogation. Another day.
At least it's sans the ropes this time, Sydney thought, absently rubbing her rope burned wrists.
Her rescuer had loaded her up into the back of a van to bring her to their present location. He'd slipped her in a back entrance before she'd been able to place her surroundings.
Now the green-eyed man had her locked in an interrogation room, firing questions at her. Vaughn, the driver of the van had called him. She wasn't answering one damn question until she saw some proof that this was the CIA.
Vaughn leaned down, both palms flat on the table now.
"What is you name?" he bit out for the dozenth time.
"Name? You want my name?" she said, adopting an authentic Russian accent. "Today it's probably Lina. It's been one of those days, you know?"
"Good God, woman, I'm CIA! What is wrong with you?" Vaughn burst out, pacing to the wall and back restlessly.
"Oh, good! I've heard that one before!" she spit back sarcastically.
Frustration made Vaughn fumble for a moment before he grasped his CIA identification and threw it down on the table.
Vaughn took a moment to collect his thoughts, then leaned over that table, over her. As if to intimidate. Sydney didn't flinch.
"Let me get this straight. You are a civilian. You were kidnapped by a hostile agency. I saved you…"
"I was doing just fine on my own," she retorted. "In fact, I saved you."
"Fine," Vaughn snapped. "I came to extract you. Now you don't believe I'm CIA."
"IDs can be faked, and very effectively. Prove it."
Sydney had barely gotten the words out when a key clicked and the door flew open.
"Sydney Bristow!" Kendall barked. "What in the hell did you do?"
"You know her?" Vaughn growled. A flash of a memory assaulted him, of the awkward resolve of one sixteen year old. "Wait, Sydney Bristow?"
Kendall ignored Vaughn and looked at Sydney, a rare brief smile playing across his face.
"I see you've been giving Agent Vaughn a hard time," he said approvingly. "Do you believe him now?"
Sydney shot him a look, then chose to ignore the question. She frowned.
"What am I doing here? This is exactly what I wanted out of, Kendall. Tell me what I'm doing here," she demanded.
Kendall shook his head and gave her a stern look, one she'd long since grown immune to. Not since she was barely twenty had she ever been intimidated by Kendall.
"Talk to Vaughn," he ordered simply. Then he turned to Vaughn, who obviously still felt the pressure of Kendall's gaze. "Then you talk to her. Everything," he added, then left them alone again to figure out how to proceed, now that their shield of animosity had been yanked away, and each knew exactly who the other was.
Hehe! I love the banter, don't you? I mean, can you not see that actually happening?
Oh, for those of you that may be lost, or may have forgotten, Kendall is not the director, in the previous story he was Sydney's CIA handler. Just a reminder…don't want ya'll picturing an angry bald man in place of the mysterious director I've neglected to characterize in any way, shape, or form because he is completely unimportant to my plot.
Review, please!