A/N: Nope, don't own a thing. R/R! Please!

Michael Vaughn entered Slankster's at midnight. He was there meeting a contact of his, one whom he had never met before, but this man had contacted him and told Michael to meet him at the club at midnight. Michael didn't like the location of the club, and had tried to change it, but that man had persisted that it be this club in which they were to meet. He would be at the bar, wearing a black coat, Michael wasn't sure how he was supposed to know it was him, but he just had a feeling.

Walking down the winding stairs Michael looked at the mass of people dancing together, writhing together like they were literally attached. Sighing he pushed his way over to the bar, looking around, he ordered a beer, but didn't drink it. All he could think about was Sydney. What she had said to him, the depth behind her words. The hatred and he couldn't even think of the person whom, no doubted, had been watching the tapes at that specific moment in time.

All he knew was that an hour before he left, he had gotten a call saying that Sydney had left, and they didn't know where she was. He was worried, someone should've been following her too, but no one would listen to him worry about her, because they all saw something different. He was in love with her, and a man who was in love would do anything to protect that person, even if it was unnecessary.

When a man sat down next to him, then was Michael brought out of his depressing thoughts. Looking over at the man who had sat next to him, he took a long glance at his features. He was a roughly handsome man, with dark hair. It wasn't until he spoke that Michael realized that this was the man he was to meet here. "Ah, you must be Mr. Vaughn, no?"

Michael glared at the man, "It seems you know my name, but, excuse me for being blunt, who the hell are you?"

"Me? Why, I'm just a humble English man, wanting to do some business, Mr. Vaughn." The man chuckled, "You have a man in custody. A Mr. Sark, I'm here on account of my employer." Michael was about to ask him who his employer actually was, but he spoke before Michael had a chance to figure it out, "My employer's name cannot be known to you yet."

Michael just nodded, he had a feeling that he wasn't going to get anywhere with arguing with the man. "What about Sark?" He said with a sneer, he hated Sark, with a passion, and it wasn't only that he was a terrorist; Michael hated Sark because of something else, if only he knew exactly what it was.

"As you know, there was recently a kidnapping of two CIA agents, I know where they are. And I am willing to set up a deal between the CIA and my employer. We give you your men back, and you give us Sark."

"No, I-"

"Let me warn you, your men die if we don't get Sark, and we have tabs on ten other CIA operatives around the world. They die too, so let me rephrase this offer. You give us Sark, and we leave you alone."

Michael had to agree, he was on comps, and Dixon was telling him that he needed to agree, it was the best thing, they would figure out what to do about Sark, later, but now, all the men were the important thing. Nodding slowly, "Alright, we'll make the trade."

Michael watched as the man suddenly grinned. "Good, my employer will be pleased. Now, I will contact you with the information on when and where." Michael was distracted as a woman with long dark hair covering her face, sat down on the other side of Simon. She was beautiful, yet was strangely familiar at the same time. "I enjoyed this meeting, we should do it again." Michael knew it was time for him to leave when the man ordered two drinks.

Taking his beer in hand, Michael pushed himself up and started to walk off, stopped by the sound of the man's voice. "The name's Simon, Simon Walker." He said with a nod, before turning back to the woman at the bar.

That name, he had heard that name before, if only he knew where. Dixon had reassured him that they were going to pull any and all fills on Simon as he walked away without a glance at the dark haired woman who was starting at his retreating form.

"That went well," Simon mused to Julia.

"I'd say so," replied the 'beautiful woman' who sat at Simon's right hand. "What an idiot." She muttered, about Vaughn no doubt. She just ignored the look that Simon gave her. Taking the drink he had bought her in hand.

"Can I ask you something, Jules?"

Julia thought for a moment. "You can ask anything, you know that. But I might not answer."

Simon sighed, and nodded, thinking of how to form his question. "Why do you want Sark? And why now?"

She had been expecting these questions to come up sooner or later. And now they had, she had been trying to form the perfect answers in her head for such a long time, but nothing had ever come up. "I," she paused, frowning, trying to find her words. "Sark once told me that one day we would work together. One day we would become allies. At the time I refused to believe him. Then, we actually did work together. When I was in SD-6, and I was a double agent." She knew Simon knew of her past, as she had broken down a year ago and told him everything. "He had something I needed, and he made a deal with me. Kill my superior and I would get the object. And so I agreed."

Taking a sip of the drink that Simon had gotten her she frowned before continuing. "We worked well together. As much as I would have hated to say that then, we really did. It just seemed natural. We had a deep respect for each other, no matter how much we hated each other." She didn't know what else to say, there really was nothing else to say. It was that simple, she wanted to work with the man who had caused her so much grief in the past. But she couldn't fully understand why.

And she desperately wanted to get off the subject. Simon could tell, too. "So, you're sure that you in no way can be tied to Julia Thorne."

The name sounded familiar on her lips, but saying as it shouldn't, she was a bit startled. No one who was listening in would know that she was talking about herself. And that sort of scared her.

"Yes, I'm sure, we were never caught on tape, we've never been together on a theft, and there should be no mention of you in any of my files. I wasn't that big a man until you came along, Jules."

She smiled, holding her drink out for the bartender to fill. "That sweet, Simon. But you flatter me." She grinned as she took another sip of her drink and looked at her watch. "But I need to get going. If I don't get home soon, the CIA will get worried. Maybe think I've disappeared again."

Chuckling Simon nodded, watching her as she downed the rest of her drink. She gave him a quick kiss on the lips before turning away from the bar. Simon watched her, that woman will be the death of us all, he thought to himself. Knowing it to true, Sydney Bristow, aka Julia Thorne, would bring all those whom she claimed to love to death. And she would do it like an expert.

Shaking his head he turned back around to the bar, preparing to get pissed drunk.


Sydney sighed as she parked in her driveway. She looked next door and saw that all the lights were off in Eric's place. Shaking her head she slowly made her way up to her front door.

She had changed back into the clothes she had left the house in earlier. Knowing full well that Michael would probably watch these tapes at sometime, and see the outfit she had gotten, putting the pieces together, realizing she was the woman in the bar.

Setting her keys down on the counter, Syd looked around, frowning. Something was wrong; something was not the same as when she had left it. Carefully she walked into the living room, she had no idea where her gun was, but she felt that she might need it. Walking into the bed room, she stopped in the doorway.

"What are you doing here?" She demanded of the man who now sat in her bedroom chair.

"Why, I'm just here to see you," Paul Jamison smirked at her. "I just wanted to see how you were doing, you know, how everything was going. With you coming back and all."

Sydney could see the gun in his jacket pocket. "I don't believe you." She told him through gritted teeth. She had always hated this man, and the only reason she would ever owe him anything was because of his help with her finding Allison Doren.

"You didn't think I was just going to give you the information, then you would never see me again, did you?" Paul shook his head and laughed. "You were always a smart girl Julia, I think coming back to your old life has changed you a bit." He shrugged, standing, walking around the chair, putting his hand in the pocket with the gun.

Sydney couldn't answer, as she knew in her heart that it was true. She shouldn't have gone to that meeting. "What do you want?"

"I want you to do something for me," he paused, looking around the apartment. "You killed Allison for yourself, and we gave you the information. Now, we want you to kill someone for us."

"Why do you think I would do that for you? I left the Covenant a year ago, I make no plans on coming back."

"You'll do it, because we can take out everyone you love. Will, Michael, Eric, Marshall, Dixon, Jack. We know everyone who was ever involved with you. And you know we won't stop until we get what we want."

Sydney never liked to admit to defeat, but she knew she was defeated. "Who do you want dead?" She asked in a small voice, knowing it was the only way out of this mess.

"Julian Sark."