A/N: So this is the part where, before I say anything else, I say:
THANK YOU, SANDPIPER!!!!!
My wonderful beta and plot-deviser-helper for this story, without whom I... literally... would not have even started to write this chapter till next year lol. You rock, hun.

Anyway, once again, sorry for taking so long. But it's really long and S/V filled to make up for it! lol

Chapter Twelve- "Out of Sight"

Hand in mine…
And then I'd say to you,
We could take to the highway
With this trunk of ammunition, too.
I'd end my days with you
In a hail of bullets- My Chemical Romance- "Demolition Lovers"

The plane taking us to Italy left that evening. Dixon and I strapped Vaughn into a single seat by a window and handcuffed his wrists to the armrests, then headed to the back of the plane to spec out details of the op.

My head wasn't focusing on the outline, though. It kept pulling out all these annoying little worries, like whether Vaughn was cold being seated so near the air conditioning, or whether the handcuffs were digging too far into his skin, or if the restraints were keeping him from scratching an unbearable itch on his neck. My brain jumped at the chance to worry about the tiniest problems he might be having, just so I wouldn't have to think about where he'd be at the end of the flight.

The plane landed eventually, as all planes do, and after strapping Vaughn into a car in a similar fashion that we had on the plane, we headed to Giovanni's lab. I wished I could have just a minute or two alone with Vaughn, to reassure him, or even to just look at him without forced animosity in my eyes, but I wasn't as fortunate this time as we had been back in the SD-6 basement. We weren't ten feet into the building when we were approached by a short, dark haired man. I recognized him from his photo as Ugo Giovanni himself.

"Mr. Ugo Giovanni?" Dixon queried.

Giovanni did not ask for our names or offer a handshake. No time for formalities when you're getting ready to torture innocent men, I suppose. "You have been sent here by Arvin Sloane to retrieve items from my Rambaldi collection, I understand?"

"Correctly understood," I replied.

His eyes swept over me in a way that I couldn't identify. It wasn't quite the way those dips men leer at me in night clubs… it seemed more as though he were recognizing me.

I didn't have the chance to ponder this for too long. His eyes had fallen on Vaughn next, who was now being held into place by Dixon. "Ah. Mr. Vaughn. I have so been looking forward to meeting you."

"Yeah, the date's starred on my calendar, too," Vaughn retorted. I bit back a scoff.

"No need to be insolent, Mr. Vaughn. Considering the trouble you're already in with your government, you should be grateful that Mr. Sloane is treating you so generously. I think we'll be able to learn a lot from each other."

I trained my eyes on the floor.

"I'm sure we will," Vaughn muttered.

"We're here to make a trade, Giovanni," Dixon cut in, "Where are the artifacts?"

"They are not quite ready for travel," Giovanni explained. "They are very old and delicate, you see, they require certain preparations. I was not expecting you so early or I would have taken care of this earlier."

"How long will that be?"

"Takes at least ten hours to have everything in the protective containments-"

"Ten hours? Our flight leaves in three, this was supposed to be a simple trade-off, Giovanni," Dixon objected as I did the same in my head. There was supposed to be a private jet waiting to bring Vaughn to safety in two hours.

Giovanni was silent for a moment, still staring at Vaughn with ill willed eyes. "Well this seems like a perfect opportunity to examine the merchandise."

Did that demonic little bastard just refer to Vaughn as 'merchandise'?

"I will take Mr. Vaughn for some basic questioning. You two may have a look around my lab, find what it is that Sloane needs to satisfy the terms of the deal. In forty-five minutes we will meet here again and see if we can't find a solution to this little predicament then."

Dixon and I glanced at each other, considering the proposition. I was completely set to protest, not trusting his words at all when it came to Vaughn's safety, but realizing there wasn't much I could say to logically discourage the situation. I gave a short nod, which Dixon returned.

"Alright," I said to Giovanni. "Forty-five minutes."

He nodded. "The room you are looking for is down the hall and to the left. Oh, and I would not suggest attempting to leave this building with anything before our deal has been made. Do not be so naïve to think I will not know about it."

"We had no intentions to do so," Dixon assured him. We shook hands and I hid my breath catching as Giovanni led Vaughn into a small room down the hall, and left us to carry out our terms.

The room we entered was small and cold, and there was not a square inch of wall visible through the sketches, sticky notes, and photographs that decorated it. Three long, wooden tables stretched from corner to corner, upon which were placed an abundant array of oddly shaped structures of various colors and materials, all encased in thick glass boxes.

"Looks like we're in the right place," Dixon commented.

"Uh-huh."

For the first ten minutes, Dixon and I wandered from glass case to glass case, examining the artifacts and each correlating document.

After ten minutes, we came to a notable sketch. It sat innocently against the wall, basking in the shine of a thin glass case and the dim red glow of a crimson bulb above it. I leaned more closely to it, slowly deciphering its Italian scrawling several times in my head to be sure of what I was reading.

"'When all is brought together, the inferno may blaze…'" I read aloud.

"It's like some kind of microwave… one that can be used… on humans," Dixon voiced what I had feared. "We should take this one to Sloane. It could be hell in the wrong hands."

"Yeah, definitely," I nodded, concealing my shudder. Under my breath, I muttered, "Wouldn't want it in the wrong hands."

Dixon retrieved a pen from his pocket and clicked it three times, discreetly taking photographs with one of Marshall's gadgets.

I made a guilt-ridden mental note to mention to the CIA that Sloane may soon be in possession of an extremely dangerous weapon. A split second later, I remembered why we were here in the first place, and felt sick again.

Fifteen more minutes passed, and Dixon and I had made note of two more artifacts to discuss with Giovanni. My curiosity and worry were becoming unbearable. I couldn't stay in this room while Vaughn was at the mercy of a psychologically unstable cultist down the hallway. "Dixon, I think we should go. It's been over a half an hour, we don't have tons of time to kill."

Dixon nodded and, after snapping several more photos, followed me out into the hallway and back to the main room. A guard promptly moved in front of the door that Giovanni had entered with Vaughn. "It has been only thirty six minutes."

You have got to be kidding me.

I looked up at Dixon to see if his feelings were the same. A subtle roll of his eyes told me he did.

"A strict time window is preventing us from upholding the exact terms of the agreement, which only included nine more minutes. So if you'll excuse us—" I stepped past the guard and Dixon grabbed his arms before he had the chance to make an attempt to stop me.

I lifted my fist to the bolted door and pounded on it. "Mr. Giovanni, we are through here. Release Mr. Vaughn back to our custody if you expect any type of final deal to be made."

"I'm sorry, but I need a few more moments-"

"If you haven't found anything to your satisfaction yet then it seems your decision is made already anyway. My partner and I cannot waste any more time here, and we will use force to prevent it if necessary."

A minute and a half later, the door swung open and I jumped back. Giovanni exited the room, is scowl embedded more deeply onto his face than when Dixon and I had first arrived. Vaughn followed slowly. As he entered the light, I inhaled sharply. Those two bruises on his left cheek and right jaw line had not been there an hour ago. His features were still set in stone, though. He showed no hint of pain or brokenness.

Roughly Giovanni shoved Vaughn into our direction. Dixon did the same with the guard. Giovanni cleared his throat. "I trust you found something to comply with your side of the deal?"

We nodded. Dixon specified the artifacts we had decided upon, then said, "Make whatever preparations are necessary then send them to Mr. Sloane. When we have the artifacts, we'll return Mr. Vaughn."

Giovanni nodded. "We have an accord, then." He held out a hand to each of us. We shook, and confirmed the deal. I flexed my fingers several times behind my back after releasing his hand, already eager to scrub an entire bottle of anti-bacterial soap onto them.

"Good bye, Mr. Giovanni. It's been a pleasure," I said as the three of us turned to leave. With me securing Vaughn's hands behind his back and Dixon trailing behind me, we exited the building and stepped outside to what would be a helpful darkness.

We headed back to the van in silence. I glanced at my watch. 9:52. Vaughn's plane was scheduled to leave at 11. His 'escape' from me was to happen at exactly 9:56. He would then enter a car owned by one of my father's trusted contacts, hidden behind an old farmhouse about a quarter of a mile from us. From there the car would take him to a private airplane strip and flown to his freedom, to a location that I did not yet know. The car would leave at 10:00, with or without Vaughn.

As I contemplated this, Dixon suddenly yelled out from behind me. "Sydney, look out!"

I instinctively jumped to the ground, Vaughn alongside me, only a split second before hearing the echoing shot that would have landed directly into my left calf.

Vaughn and I jumped up, diving instantly behind two trees as I yanked my gun out of its holster and started to leave my shield to help Dixon. Vaughn took a step to follow me. "Vaughn, stay here! You're unarmed." He gave me a look but nodded. I walked back out onto the path, only to find two of Giovanni's men standing there as if expecting me. s!

The first man went immediately for my gun while the second went immediately to where Vaughn and I had just been hiding. I gave the first a swift kick and knocked both guns from his hand, twisted his arm around his back before knocking him out altogether.

I looked up to see Dixon keeping himself busy, ducked behind a marble wall fencing the lawn, leaning out sporadically to hold off the shots of the guard who was still on his tail. He was handling himself. Now, I had to make sure Vaughn would get to safety before his missed his window.

I found him in the cluster of trees, flipping the guard that had followed him onto his back. The guard looked up, noticing me, staring at me for a moment, then looked at Vaughn again. "The man was a genius," he said, his voice holding a note of bewilderment underneath his breathlessness. "You look just like the pictures. Both of you." That was when Vaughn delivered a final kick to his head, rendering him unconscious.

You look just like the pictures… both of you…. "Giovanni knows I'm the Prophecy Woman…" I realized aloud, slowly, remembering the way he had stared had me upon first meeting me. He must have sent his guards out to capture me and recapture Vaughn. I shook my head, knowing this was not the time to deal with it.

"Vaughn, I've got to get back to Dixon." I looked quickly down at my watch. 10:02. He'd missed the car by two f minutes. "Look, the car will have left already, but you can still get out of here. Just keep running, find some way to get to a plane."

Vaughn nodded. "Alright."

Suddenly I remembered. This was it. This could be the last time I ever saw him again. And I had no time to say goodbye.

I looked up at him, allowing myself to stare for only a moment. "Bye, Vaughn. Good luck."

"Be careful," he told me, returning my gaze. I broke it first, knowing I couldn't wouldn't have been able to it if it had lasted any longer. I began to walk away. "I'll try to contact you," he promised.

"You have to go, Vaughn," I urged, and took one last look at him before turning around and running back up the path to help Dixon.

Vaughn POV

Goodness knows I saw it coming
Or at least I'll claim I did
But in truth I'm lost for words
What have I done? It's too late for that
What have I become? Truth is nothing yet
A simple mistake starts the hardest time -Snow Patrol -"Chocolate"

Sydney had told me to 'just go, just keep running.' It would have been the smart thing to do. But if there's one thing I've found over the past two years, it's that the supposedly 'smart thing' has never been what concerns me when Sydney's well-being is at stake.

After she left me alone, I waited only a moment before leaving my hiding place and turning around to check that she and Dixon were handling the situation. As usual, they were. It seemed they had taken care of all of Giovanni's men, and they were beginning to walk back down the path to the van.

Having eased my mind, I turned again and started to walk quickly through the trees, ready to break into a run when I reached the clearing. That's when I heard a sound that made my insides churn. The beginnings of Dixon yelling Sydney's name, followed by the dull thuds of two bodies hitting the ground.

I gasped. Heart pounding, I raced back out. Four more guards had been called out, apparently taking Sydney and Dixon by surprise and allowing for an easy domination. I watched in helpless fear as the guards lifted the two partners and carried them in two different directions, Sydney towards the area of the house we had exited from- Giovanni's lab.

I crept closer, now able to see a clear image of the three figures on their way to the lab. Sydney's head twitched slightly, as though trying to force itself awake. One of the men cursed roughly in Italian and delivered a quick, fierce elbow to her temple, ceasing her movement again.

I felt my blood beginning to scorch, singing my veins as it rushed through them. I had to get her out of there. There was no way in hell she was staying in Ugo Giovanni's hands without a fight from me. I watched in seething anger as the door slammed shut behind them.

Recently twisted ankle be damned, I sprinted as fast as I had ever gone up to the entrance of the house. I took a half a moment to breathe, looking out over the distance I'd just run. My eyes fell on something small and dark in the grass. A gun! One of the guards must have dropped it while fighting and the others hadn't noticed.

I raced over to retrieve it, and immediately aimed it at the lock of the door. I let out one shot, and the door swung open. I rushed in, gun poised, prepared to take down the men that rushed at me after hearing the explosion. To my surprise, there were none. We must have kept them all busy, and I knew after having been inside of it that Giovanni's interrogation room was sound- proofed.

I crept down the hallway to it and leaned down to stare through the keyhole. It was much to small to see anything but blurred outlines, but I saw enough to be assured that Sydney would not be in the path of my bullet.

I placed the gun against the lock and shot. Giovanni instantaneously spun around and dropped the needle he'd been holding, reaching for a gun on a table a few feet away. Before he had the chance to touch it, I pulled the trigger of my own and released a bullet into his chest. He fell instantly.

I dropped the gun to the ground and rushed over to Sydney, quickly undoing the restrains that were holding her to the chair. "You alright?"

"You're supposed to be on a plane already. What the hell are you still doing here?"

"I saw them catch you… I couldn't just leave."

Sydney didn't argue with my reasoning, though I could tell she wanted to, as I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her gently towards the door. "Where's Dixon?" she asked instead.

"I don't know where they took him, but if we go back now we're both screwed. He'll be fine, it's not him they want."

Sydney nodded. When I was sure she was fully recovered from having been knocked out, I lifted my arm from around her and we raced down the stairs and pathway, pounding the gravel beneath our feet.

We escaped onto the public road beyond the house and kept running, refusing our legs' pleadings to stop. We ran for twenty minutes before deciding it was safe to hop a public bus. It was 11:03 when we boarded. Sydney called her father quickly and told him in code to tell the pilot of my plane that we'd run into some problems, and to reschedule takeoff for midnight.

Syd POV

I remember goodbye
I watched your plane out of sight
Love was over, time to close the book
Still I go back for one last look
There were moments in that lifetime
That my heart still replays
There were minutes, there were hours, there were days
There are moments I still love you that same way
When I remember L.A.- Celine Dion- "I Remember L.A."

It was raining when we exited the bus and made our way towards the tiny plane on the runway. Our muscles were tired and our minds were exhausted, but suddenly, neither of those grievances could compare with the glowing pain in my heart.

The plane's engines were screaming for us to separate, but we couldn't yet accept what their success would bring. More specifically, what it would take.

"Vaughn…" it was too hard to follow that one syllable with anything. He took my hands, our fingers kneading themselves together quickly.

"It's gonna be okay, Syd."

I'd been telling myself that for hours, days. Mentally preparing myself for this moment, one that had been inevitable and dreaded and only just barely worth the despair it brought for the hope it offered. Somehow though, when he spoke the words I'd been forcing myself to believe, they became slightly more convincing.

"We don't know how long it's going to be…" I reminded, the meaning behind the words obvious.

"I know."

If our contact moved further than our clasped fingers, I feared I'd never be able to accomplish this. "Take… take care of yourself, okay?"

"Of course."

Our eyes met through the humid mist and I knew there was no avoiding it.

In half a second, I was in his arms. His hand ran soothingly through my hair, damp and rippling from the light drizzle gently crying around us.

"I'll miss you," I managed to free the strangled words from my throat.

"I'll miss you too."

Minutes went by, crashing to the ground with each new drop of rain. Finally I pulled away, just enough to say into his ear, "The plane's taking off in five minutes."

He nodded against my hair. "I know."

Slowly, we both leaned away. He lifted his hands from my sides and brought them gently to my face, his thumbs stroking softly.

I placed my hands over his where they rested on my cheeks, on guard to wipe away any escaping tears. "I'm so sorry, Vaughn…. I'm so sorry all this had to happen."

"Sydney, please don't. Don't you dare start to blame yourself for things that were entirely out of your control. Especially not this. I could never blame you for this."

I was sorry anyway, but I bit it back. There was something more important I had to say, something I would regret holding back for the rest of my life if I didn't say it right then. "…Vaughn?"

"Yeah?"

"I…."

"I know," he stopped my words before I could even think of how to form them, "I know, Syd. Please don't… it'll be impossible if you do."

I smiled a little through the battle I was fighting with my stubborn tears and nodded. He was right, of course he was right. If I had heard him say the three words I'd been about to confess, I would have never been able to say the two that were hastily and forcedly approaching.

Wanting to prove the statement without having to voice it, Vaughn began to lean in, and I mirrored his movements. Gently, he pressed his lips to mine. I responded quickly, moving my arms to wrap around his neck as his slid around my waist, both of us desperate to eliminate any hint of space between us.

The kiss deepened as each of us tried to communicate every emotion and every memory through it. We tried to convince ourselves that it was not the last and yet, I did not want myself to forget. I didn't want to pretend that this wasn't goodbye, to fill my heart with false hopes. Finally, I gave up on the battle and just let myself dissolve into the kiss, let it speak all the words that we were afraid to.

I thought I heard a muffled shouting coming from behind us, but my ears would not recognize it for whatever it was. I didn't want anything to come between us at this moment, and I was determined to delay the inevitable for as long as possible.

That wasn't long enough. Seconds later, a tap on Vaughn's shoulder forced us apart and back into reality. "Excuse me, Agent Vaughn? The plane is prepped for take-off, we have to leave now."

Vaughn didn't turn around, he kept his eyes on mine, only acknowledging the pilot by replying shortly, "Alright. Be right there."

The pilot nodded and turned to go back to the plane. Vaughn reached up again and tenderly eased several strands of soaked, limp hair from my cheek and tucked them behind my ear. "I'll find a way to let you know where I am," he promised, then leaned forward and kissed my forehead. "Goodbye, Syd."

I wasn't sure anymore if my vision was being blurred by the rain or my own tears. "Bye, Vaughn."

He leaned forward and placed one last kiss on my lips, swift, but soft and bittersweet. Leaning his forehead against mine, he gently squeezed my hand and I tried to give him a tiny smile. Then, silently, we moved very slowly apart.

He began to walk towards the plane, facing me until he reached the steps leading up to the cabin. I quickly swiped away the newly gathering tears and stood and watched the first window as his figure filled it then sat down. I couldn't see the details of his face from this distance, but his hand lifted in the tiniest of waves. I returned the gesture.

I remained in that spot, motionless and drenched, as the plane began to glide across the runway, dragging my heart along the cold cement with it, and took off into the air.

"I love you, Vaughn…" I whispered into the drone of the engines and the whirring of the propellers, now fading into the pendulous clouds above. I love you.

The seams of the clouds ripped open as the plane tore through them, but they quickly stitched themselves back up behind it and it disappeared from my sight. It was gone.

He was gone. Forever.

Aw. Tear.

Will they ever see each other again? Where will Vaughn go? Did Dixon get home safely? What of Rambaldi's prophecy? Will that guard dude get therapy for his obsessive compulsive attention to detail? You'll never find out if ya don't click the happy little "submit review" button!