Hey! Wass up! I have to say the premire bombed!!!!!!!!! What was up with Michael? One moment he's crying and then he's like, yeah, I'm married. I hope J.J knows what he's doing!!!!!! Anywho, for those suffering, if you've been reading you know Sydney and Michael are about to take a turn for the sigh.good!

Wanted to thank Sheep lover and alpine racer for being so consistent! But really next time I'm not updating until I get five reviews! Just wanted to let ya'll know that, lol!!!!!!!

SO PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Part XIV The Other Side of the Story Leo's l'il sista

Sydney slowed her steps when she saw Kendall, looking at her expectantly as she came in that morning. Judging by the relief on his face, she assumed he'd been anticipating her entrance for a while.

She wanted to prevent it but her heart fell to her stomach. She wanted to question his appearance as though she didn't know what was happening and trying to deny she had caused this herself,

"Agent Bristow?"

"Director Kendall."

They shared an identical glance of terror on anxiety.

"What do you want with me sir?" Sydney inquired, assuming an all- professional, no emotion demeanor, or least was trying her darnest to.

"You know exactly what I want with you," his glare thundered, but when he spoke, his voice was considerably lower and delicate. "I assume you have no obligations today."

Sydney shook her head.

"Good answer," Kendall boomed. "Will you come with me please."

Kendall didn't give Sydney a chance to answer and did a half-face and began walked, Sydney only a few feet away from him. She was so absorbed in worry of what was to come that she didn't notice Agent Vaughn had seen her and was now cautiously following them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sydney sat, shaking in her seat as she watched her boss shift in his executive chair. She shouldn't be shaking, this was what she'd wanted, what she'd decided was the best thing to do. But she was all mixed up after hearing Will's confessions about Michael, and with her own feelings. She hadn't exactly closed things with Michael, if there was a liable explanation, she'd been avoiding it.

So was it really her wanting to go?

It didn't matter now, Kendall had received her request and she was sure as greedy and without personal relationships with his employees he was, she was sure that her particular plea was not something that he could sign off on and forget about.

She felt like she was at God's door on the day of judgement. Whatever Kendall decided and voiced would indicate whether Sydney Bristow would exist, or "die," and be gone from the face of the earth.

She stared impatiently, placing her hands in her lap as they started to sweat; the same moisture glistened on her face and neck. She could careless what the answer was, she just wanted one. If she was declined, she could still go to England and rethink things without the drama of wondering whether Michael was just around the corner or lurking in the shadows. And as much as she loved Will, she didn't know how many more "you and Michael are meant to be," speeches she could take before completely losing it with him.

And if her request had been accepted, she could forget about this drama and start a new one with a new name and new life. And if that was the case she just wanted to hear those words and shoot off to the country where the last living royal family lived. Trudging through her last weeks as a CIA agent with the L.A office would be a lot easier to if she was thousands of miles away from it.

Though of course part of her wished Michael would swoop in, prevent her from leaving him and face her to the fantasy that was itching to become reality. But she'd made Will swear and Michael had to have gotten the message by now that they were over. And if he didn't, he wouldn't have any chance but to, especially if he could no longer find her on the database.

Sydney could distinctly hear each second tick. As the minutes passed, it got more deafening. God, what was Kendall doing? Waiting for her to pee in her pants. He had the decision, didn't he?

"Uh, sir?"

Kendall didn't stir at that comment but a few seconds later he grew more relaxed and it appeared as though he'd finally collected his thoughts into audible words.

"Excuse me for being a bit anxious, more than usual but what you asked was not standard. I believe it's the first time in my career to come across a young lady who requests herself that her identity be slashed."

"Skip that," Sydney groaned, knowing Kendall's speech could be a lot longer than that if she just let him go on. He was stalling that much Sydney could understand, but for what, she couldn't understand.

"So, I mulled it over, got some expert cause from a psychiatrist and made the best decision I could think of," Kendall informed her in a warning tone.

This made Sydney feel even uneasier. The first thing was this was supposed to have remained confidential and he'd informed someone else in the CIA, and the only "psychiatrists," she could think of was Agent Cowell.

Kendall must have seen the alarm on her face for he quickly added, "don't worry, Agent Bristow, I used hypotheticals."

Sydney tried to smile.

"Saying that I'm going to just jump into the answer I've thought of to accept or decline your request," he stared hard at the young woman then after a beat he spouted, "I have decided to grant you your request~~~"

Sydney didn't know what she'd expected to feel but her present emotion was not relief. It was more a door slamming in her face. Michael had once told here there was a grave for her, the actual words had been something to make sure you weren't forgotten," but it was in the cemetery next to real gravestones. A passer by wouldn't be able to tell the difference plainly it wasn't something to be enthusiastic and therefore she wasn't.

"~~~however, I have offered a few conditions."

Conditions? Kendall was making it appear he was generous. But what could he possibly offer? To let the CIA pay for her funeral so her parents wouldn't have to deal with even their daughter's death?

"I'm listening," Sydney told him, trying not to think the worse.

"I know what you wanted to do," Kendall told her gently, a trait he rarely showed. "You felt out of place and I realize that's partially felt out of place, after all, we are the ones who got you into the whole thing with Sloane."

Was that an apology? It didn't sound formal, but coming from Kendall, it would have to do.

Sydney was about to mouth, "how, " and Kendall answered it by giving her of application.

"These are you mission orders," Kendall clarified. "You will see this the standard. Things haven't changed in the paper business."

Sydney took the paper and skimmed it. She felt a cold chill. She'd never seen these papers before because before it had come from Vaughn. He'd been through the paper work and he'd debriefed her and made sure she was okay.

But here she was because she no longer had an Operations Officer, Kendall hadn't re-assigned Vaughn and Cowell didn't count.

She handed it back to him.

"Now this is transfer order but I'm going to do something I usually won't do and give it to you."

Sydney was overswept puzzlement.

"I'm not going to sent it to London. But I'm giving you my permission."

"Thank you, but what am I supposed to do with this?"

"You are under my clock and the CIA payroll as long as you're on this mission, but after that you're on your own. If you want to proceed with your present decision, hand this in to London and then Cowell will return with a copy for me," Kendall shrugged. "If you decide you want to come back, our door is always open."

Sydney was at a loss for words.

"Maybe you will want to stay?" Kendall grimaced. "You might become the next Shakespeare."

"Sir, this is not a joke."

"I am aware of that, Agent Bristow. I'm just giving you a chance to change your mind."

Sydney knew very well Kendall was being extremely generous, which of course struck her as odd since she believed her boss had been born without a generous bone in his body. She ought to be grateful. She was welcomed, she was wanted, her existence acknowledged and not to mention loved by the only man she would consider a husband.

So what was she doing?

Why didn't she want Kendall to go ahead with everything and leave her without a choice? Was she going to admit if she couldn't do it herself?

"I know you expected a full serviced report but I thought this would be the best say. Think about it, Agent Bristow. And if you haven't reached an answer by the end of your mission, inform me of that and we will see what we can do."

Compassion? Was that even allowed to be in Kendall's voice, let alone, body?

Sydney saw the Director was staring at her, obviously waiting for an answer. Maybe he was being this way because she reminded him of his first love, a surrogate daughter he never had, whatever the case Sydney was moved.

"Thank you, sir. This is very surprising, I didn't expect you to be so generous," Sydney stuttered like a bad cassette.

"I've never done this before and as you can see, I'm still learning. There's a first thing for everything Agent Bristow, even reincarnation."

Sydney had never felt like she was part of the CIA than this very moment. She could feel the tears burning, realizing today could be it.

No more seeing Michael in the hallway. No more, Weiss fixing Michael up with her, no more of Michael's handsome smiles, bittersweet kisses or arms to hold her and tell her everything was all right, or would turn out that way. No more shy stammering or sarcastic conversation. No more of feeling content, knowing she'd found her meant to be.

"Agent Bristow, is there anything you want to say?"

Sydney took a relaxing breath, rolled her shoulders back and looked Kendall in the eye.

"No sir."

Kendall nodded his head then went over to the door to escort her out.

"I'll be hearing form you soon?"

"1800 hours, Monday in London."

With that Sydney bowed her head politely then walked as quickly as she could while maintaining her professional demeanor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I never thought this would be so hard," Sydney cried, tears blinding her sight as she stuffed her personal belongings into a box.

More than a few memorable things had come spilling out of it.

The golden pocket watch she'd purchased to always remember Michael's golden watch and how it had miraculously stopped the day they'd met. A few snapshots of the two of them during rare breaks when their schedules had met. And of course anything French reminded her of Michael, his gorgeous all-knowing emerald pools that sparkled whenever their gazes met, his adorable lopsided grin, the way his words flowed smoothly whenever he murmured, "Tu est mon millieur copine. Je t'aime beacoup." (translation: You are my best friend, I love you very much) And then the way his tongue felt against hers.

"Oh God Michael, how am I going to go on?" Sydney sobbed as she pored over her photos. "How where do I start when I'm so in love with you?"

She gasped when she heard the sound of a door opening. She flipped around and gaped.

"My love."

"What?" Michael inquired as he stepped into the dark room. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone was in here," he apologized. "You shouldn't be sitting in the dark though, it's bad for your eyes, I'll leave the light on for you."

Michael's eyes grew wide as though he nearly was surprised to see her there.

"Syd, it's you."

"Yeah~~~me," Sydney winced, looking like a deer in the headlights with excellent reaction time. "What are you doing here? Because if you need the room, I'll leave."

"No, just stay where you are."

The amount of tension and pain in his tone was all the evidence she needed to figure out Michael knew. The question was how much.

"Must we do this now?" Sydney chuckled; thanking God for once that she hated mascara and rubbed away her tears. "I've been sick, Vaughn. If you want to burden me couldn't you choose tomorrow?"

"You liar!" Michael wanted to scream. "You're taking on a mission behind my back!" But he was able to control his anger almost as well as his irritation. "Oh, sorry, you're right, stupid me. I'll go now."

"That was it?" Sydney inquired a level of hope in her voice.

"What do you mean?"

"You didn't need anything? You came to bother e?"

"I guess," Michael shrugged.

"You're irritated with me, I know that much," Sydney stated as she moved her box under the table. "I want to know why."

"Maybe because I am. The last time we met you talked yourself out of talking to me. You've been avoiding me. Maybe I don't believe you were sick for two weeks, and that you've developed such an anger for me you can't stand to work in the same building as me."

So he didn't know.

Thank God she'd decided against blurting it out assuming he did!

"No, it's nothing like that. I really just had a bad touch of the flu."

Michael looked down, evaluating whether or not he should tell her he knew. But something stopped him. If this was her last day, he didn't want to fight.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I'm relieved you're doing better," Michael smiled as he walked over to his locker.

"Thanks, I didn't meant to worry you Michael."

"Bad habit, I guess. I've grown so accustomed to worrying about you, not sleeping a wink when you're on a mission, and then some nights I reamed of you, wondering if you felt the same way about me," he chuckled, very candid.

"I think you know the answer to that," Sydney grinned as she played with the latches of her briefcase.

"Yeah, I guess I do."

Michael and Sydney stared at each other, not knowing what to say.

"So uh, where's Agent Cowell?" Vaughn inquired, pulling a seat out and leaned onto the back of it.

"Who knows!" Sydney laughed incredulously, doing a double check of her locker.

"He sucks as an Operations Officer," Michael frowned disapprovingly. "I tried not to let you out of my sight."

"Tell me about it," Sydney sighed, but inwardly she was thankful that he did. After all, every moment she spent with him amounted to how much she loved him now.

"Don't worry, Cowell is not my Operations Officer."

"He's not?" Michael inquired confused. "Then who is?"

"No one."

"No one? Sydney, how can that be?" he interrogated. "Unless that's because you no longer have a position with the CIA. Is that it Syd? Is that why you're packing?"

"No, even if I wanted to, I can't afford to do that now. If the people who ruined my life are still looking for me, I won't stand a chance without you guys watching my back."

"You're right. It's just I saw you packing. I know you've got a box under the table."

Sydney began sputtering and turned red at the same time.

Michael sat silent for a moment and collected his thoughts before he murmured. "Syd?"

"Yes?"

"I know we've been through a lot, yet some how you've managed to be normal around me."

"Oh Stop there," Sydney pleaded to herself. She didn't know how much more of this "normal," she could keep up and how much longer she could be in Michael's presence and not tell him the truth.

"I guess what I'm asking it, we're friend right? I maybe be married but whenever you need me, I'll be there and I was hoping I could count on getting the same from you. I can trust you, right, Syd?"

Sydney knew this was her chance to break him in half and tell him no everything was not fine and that he should be sorry, but she wasn't going to give him the liberty of seeing her cry. She would have plenty of time for that tonight.

"Of course we're friends," she fibbed, flashing that smile which was all Michael needed to calm his nerves and know everything was okay. "And of course you can trust me, I used to trust my life to you and you did the same."

"How about trusting you not to break my heart," he thought to himself. It was selfish since he'd granted her his worst nightmare but he didn't know what he would do if he confessed his deep feelings for who he had thought would be his fiancée and have her slam the door in his face.

"M~~"

"Sydney," he cut in before he lost his nerve. He gazed into her beautiful brown eyes and tried to forget she was lying to him. "Y~you would tell me if you were leaving L.A, wouldn't you Mountaineer?"

Oh yeah, trust Michael to use the name that connected her to his "boy scout," the day she had to leave.

"Sydney?" Michael repeated anxiously.

"I just told you we're friends," Sydney teased him, twirling her hair. "And friends wouldn't do that to each other, would they?"

She saw Michael was seriously thinking and hurt. How could she do this, he loved her and he knew she loved him, so why was she leaving, why didn't she do something about Jessica? Why didn't Michael get a divorce from her?

"Yeah, you're right, Syd. Just insecure I guess. With all that our friendship has been through, I know I should trust you," Michael sighed, rubbing his face. "I just saw your box. I'm not ready to miss you for another two years, Syd."

"Then why did you have to do this to me?" she wanted to cry. "Why did you do something to make me think going away if the only way out?"

"I know, Michael, I was just uh~~~taking some stuff home, you know new start requires cleaning, in with new, out with the old."

"Right. You want me to help you take your stuff out to the car? Because I've really been dying to talk to you."

Now how could she deny Michael such a simple request?

"I think I can manage but I guess it couldn't hurt," Sydney answered, and lifted the box into Michael's awaiting arms.

'Yes," Michael thought as he secured his grip. At least he'd been invited, despite the risk he'd taken in making the comment about the talk.

"After you."

Sydney managed a small smile, a small stretch of her lips and exited her room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Okay, anytime now," Michael told himself, while trying to keep the weight of his box balanced in both hands. "Anytime now, confess your love and turn her head."

They'd been walking in silence and he was about at his wit's end. Of course things had been tense between him and Sydney for as long as he could remember. In the beginning he'd been in the same situation, wanting Syd to know he realized her feelings for him and that finally he could return them, but this was different. He'd have given anything not to be stuck in this situation.

"So, how is your wife? Have you finally made up with her?" Sydney asked innocently as she brought up the rear.

"Can't you talk about something other than my wife?" Michael shot out angrily, almost dropping the box.

"I have nothing else to say, Michael. It's not like we work together. You just pop up wherever I am and I'm running out of things to say," Sydney tossed off.

"Right. You missed two years of my life and the only thing you want to know is if I'm back with my wife? Honestly Syd, did you really love me?"

"You know I do!" she blurted out then added, "did," causing heads to turn. "But that's over now so let's not mention it anymore. I have a hard enough time making people believe I'm over you."

"I wonder why," Michael thought to himself.

But Michael chose not to say anything, leaving Sydney desperately wanting to know what was going through his head. She just became Michael's shadow and tried now to study his excellent backside, presently camouflaged by his coat. Was it her of could she still smell Michael's aftershave as though she were lost in a dream?

They reached her desk and Michael dropped the box on top of it. He was angry. She could tell by the way his brow twitched.

"Vaughn, you're here."

Sydney was awashed with love for her father. He may have screwed up royally in the earlier part of her life but it didn't take an idiot to figure out he was working hard trying to make it up to her.

Michael felt as though someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on him and felt the liquid was slowly trickling down, tracing his spine.

"Dad."

"Sydney," he sighed. It was obvious he'd gotten the news. "How are you doing?"

"The flu is gone. I'm back in business."

Jack nodded approvingly but he found he couldn't stare at his daughter for even a few seconds without his eyes welling up. "Your mother and I would like to talk to you after I finish a pending piece of business with Agent Vaughn."

Sydney bit her lip. She'd been hoping to go to her hotel room or spend a relaxing day actually seeing what Los Angeles had to offer. But she couldn't' disappoint her parents. This might be her last chance to have lunch together, who knew when her mother revealed she was still an enemy of the organization and her father, she never really knew what was going on with him.

"Sure, I'll go put this in the car and then we could have lunch," Sydney suggested, staring at her father.

"Great, I'll collect your mother and then we can meet up at, oh, the Red Lobster in thirty minutes?" he replied and kissed her on the cheek.

"Yeah, see you there."

She picked up her box without a word then saw Michael's eyes were on her, boring into her as though she'd betrayed him, which she had but he didn't know it.

Or did he?

"Thank for your help, with the box, I mean."

Michael didn't say anything. He just stared at her and Sydney was afraid he could read her mind. And for a moment Sydney wished he could and save her the trouble of having to say what she wanted to so badly herself.

"Vaughn, now!" barked her father.

Michael sighed, his eyes filling with tears. He then glanced at the ground, and threw a really bad form of the good by wave and went on after Sydney's father.

Sydney's hands tightened as she tried to keep them from trembling but it was no use. She'd expected Michael to be angry but she hadn't expected this. She almost bought into her guy feeling that was telling her she had pushed him over the edge and would never get him back.

"Sydney, hi."

It was Marshall.

Sydney flashed a wan smile at the genius inventor, and his "side kick," Agent Stroban.

"I'm so glad you're back, since I didn't see you for two weeks I almost assumed you were gone, missing for another two years but that's impossible, two year hadn't passed~~~"

"Mashal?" Sydney cut in. "I'm not missing and thank you for caring. Some days I wake up and think I have nobody, that this is all because you pity me. But with you, I know it's genuine."

"No way, Syd!" Marshall corrected her "We're friends, or as close as co-workers can get, uh, not romantically because that would be unacceptable"

Sydney shook his hand, smiled and then exited the building. So her high for the day was meeting Marshall.

That was pathetic.

No, she was pathetic for feeling the way she did just because she couldn't handle what she'd wanted all along. To get over him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Agent Bristow, how may I assist you?" Michael inquired as in control as he could. He hated to admit it but just seeing Sydney's father made him tremble.

Jack puled out an official looking document and slapped it on his desk, then turned to walk off.

Michael snatched the paper up, read the letters in bad and was shocked. "Agent~~~Agent Bristow, what is this?"

"A document restraining you from my daughter," Jack answered wearing an oily grin.

"I know that but why? I haven't harassed her. I haven't seen her in two weeks. We don't even work together!"

"All stated statement are true," Jack acknowledged. "But this is between you and me, I'm shocked to see how surprised you are."

"I am shocked! I don't understand!"

'Do you recall a certain conversation we had a few weeks ago when I told you to convince Sydney not to take the mission. To either pursue her or drop out of her life?"

Michael did.

(Author's note: for those of you who don't' remember, the conversation is in Part V)

"Are you aware she'd taken on the mission?" Jack demanded, testy.

"Yes."

"Then you have given your answer, you have proven you don't want to be with my daughter and you've chosen a life with your wife."

"No!" Michael burst out. "I tried talking to her! She's been avoiding me! She wasn't sick for two weeks. She's been staying away from me! She evades my question, bolts when I approach her~~~"

"I never told you it would be easy, Agent Vaughn," Jack sang tauntingly. "But perhaps if you got a divorce from your wife you would have been more convincing."

It killed Michael to admit it but what Jack was saying was true. He claimed to love her, everyone around him had grown so tired of hearing it. But none of that mattered. It hadn't reached the one who needed to hear it.

"Director Kendall has received a copy to make sure this is strictly enforced. The penalty for not heeding these words can result in jail time and termination of your time as an agent," Jack continued severely. "Do you understand?"

Michael nodded, looking down at the document.

"Good, well I'm off to have lunch with my daughter," Jack announced, totally rubbing Michael's face in it. "Have a wonderful afternoon."

"Oh yeah, Michael groaned, slamming his arms on the table and rubbed his head with his hands. "If somebody'll kill me."

"Was this God's wonderful plan?" he cursed, hastily wiping away his tears. He currently felt like Romeo and Juliet gone wrong. "Because I don't' know how much more of this I can take!"

Hey ya'll!!! Please review if you want to know what happens next!!! Come on, stay with me!!! You are not going to believe what happens next!!! Lots of love for ya!!!! Please REVIEW!!!!!

Thanks and see you next week! Leo's l'il sista