A/N: I borrowed the chapter title from Keane. Enjoy the fluff while it's here, because I'm planning for some angst. Enjoy, and please review.
Part 4 – Why Don't We Go Somewhere Only We Know
Blink.
After a week of dead ends when it came to finding your mother and Sloane, you were desperately in need of that dreamy weekend in Santa Barbara. But there was something else to attend to – Francie's funeral.
The CIA decided that it would be best if Francie's death was explained in the same way Danny's was. That way the confidentiality of your job could be maintained to those who would be affected by the death. You protested heavily, despising the thought of having to continue to lie to the people not directly involved in your insane world, but in the end, the higher-up won. When it became apparent that double would have to be the body in Francie's casket, you nearly exploded with anger. But there was no other option to take.
So, you greet the solemn and still-shocked Mr. and Mrs. Calfo with a quick, tearful hug, and then hurry to your seat, afraid that your barely contained infuriation over this deception of all deceptions would spill out into the open.
More tears come when you listen to the eulogy, but they are mostly tears of anger. Allowing Francie's murderer to be the recipient of this final, loving goodbye while your real friend is God-knows-where makes your blood boil. You want to scream. This is just… wrong. You know that your allowing this to even take place dishonors Francie's memory more with each second. But, the truth is far too complicated, far too dangerous for the likes of the people around you. The clash between the innocent and the dark, secret worlds would create too great a mess to clean up. So, the façade is back up in full force. But with you now is someone who is allowed to see past all of the lies; he is a part of both your worlds now, and you don't know what you would do without him.
He sits beside you and squeezes your hand reassuringly every time he can feel you tense up. He is literally the only thing keeping you from abruptly leaving this disgrace of a memorial.
You're thankful, but drained when it's over, and you ask Vaughn to make a stop before you head home. You open the glass door and step inside, not sure what you were expecting to feel when you came here, but you felt that you needed be here now.
The restaurant wasn't too busy right now – it usually didn't reach its peak until the evening – but you were mildly surprised to see one person who was here too. Although, you probably should have figured that he would also want to be here right now, especially since he, too, knew the truth about Francie.
Will was seated in his wheelchair with his sister standing next to him, their backs turned to you. You approached them and laid a hand on Will's shoulder, and Amy helped him turn around to face you. Neither of you knew what to say at the moment, so you just leaned down to give him a hug, tears not unwelcome springing to your eyes.
This place had been Francie's dream, one that she had worked so hard to achieve. It was where you spent what time you had with her being as careless and free as you could, discussing only lighthearted topics, catching up on your girl-talk. But really, it had all been a lie. She never knew what you actually did with your life; you never got to explain everything to her, never got to know if she would ever forgive you for deceiving her, never got to introduce her to "Michael." But, being here now was your apology to her – a small start, but a start at least.
You run your hand over the cool counter at the bar, and in your mind you ask her to forgive you, and you promise her that you won't let her murderers go unpunished.
Blink.
You jump on the newest lead on Sloane. You father unearthed it; while he was drugged and in Sloane's custody, he had heard bits and pieces of Sloane's conversations with his men. What he could and couldn't remember had been eating at him for the past week, but he finally remembered hearing about a location, another safehouse, the place they would be going when Il Dire had functioned and completed its task. Your father assumed that that's where Sloane had gone with the device when the CIA raided the building.
So, you and Vaughn were on the next plane to the remotely located safehouse. What you found there… well, you couldn't believe what you found there. The place was empty, all except for the Rambaldi device. This didn't make any sense. Sloane had worked for over thirty years to build this device; he wouldn't just suddenly abandon it. But it appears that that is exactly what he had done.
You examine the device for any clue as to why Sloane had not taken it, wherever he had gone now. The thing is massive – it nearly fills the entire room in which it is placed – intricately designed, and complexly put together. On one side near the bottom is where you find your only clue.
You tear the blank, scrap of parchment that appears to have been left when a longer page was torn from the mouth of what looks like a printing device. It's not much help, but it offers an explanation as for why Sloane left his magnum opus behind. The device performed its function, and was now useless. The scrap left behind indicates that the machine had been used to deliver a printed message. What it could be, you had no idea, and now you've once again reached the end to the leads on Sloane. You crumple the piece of parchment in a frustrated fist. Sloane had escaped again.
Blink.
It had been a few weeks of dead ends at the CIA before you and Vaughn realize that this time would be a perfect opportunity to get away for a weekend. So you go on your dream vacation to Santa Barbara; and what a dream it was.
It was a warm night, so you drove with the windows down, your hair tickling your face as it was blown around, you loving every minute of it, feeling free and excited as you anticipated a weekend full of pure, uninterrupted fun. Vaughn laughed happily, seeing you in such carefree state, and your grin only widened in return. It was late when you arrived at the Biltmore, so you both decided that it would be best if you went to bed. Of course, that didn't necessarily mean that you two got a lot of sleep…
The hotel itself was beautiful – the Spanish style architecture caught your eye, and the wonderfully decorated rooms and patios with sunlight streaking in all the right places gave the place a heavenly aura. You could probably make a full weekend without leaving the hotel, but you had plans to do everything you said you wanted to do while you were there and more. And so, you relaxed on the sunny beach, bought ice cream cones from a nearby vendor and took a walk along the sand, had fabulous tacos at La Superica Taqueria, visited a museum of art, and of course went to the zoo that you could not stop talking about.
You bought a disposable camera, and Vaughn snapped a picture of you in front of your giraffe with a crooked neck. He lowered the camera, smiling, with a look in his eyes that you couldn't place. He just said that he loved you, but you could tell that he was holding something back; there was something more in his eyes than love. But you let it slip by for now, not wanting even the tiniest argument to ruin the day.
It wasn't until you were seated together at a candlelit dinner at the hotel's La Marina that Vaughn admitted that he had been holding back some of his feelings earlier that day. You remember that he took a deep breath before placing his hand over yours, and still to this day can you recollect every word said…
"Sydney, I've loved living with you the past few weeks…"
"I have too," you answered immediately.
He squeezed your hand gently in response. "Please, let me finish." He looked down briefly before he met your eyes again and continued. "And this weekend has been incredible, but I'm realizing now that it isn't enough. I love you, Syd… And I want to marry you. Will you be my wife?"
He looked at you expectantly, witnessing the blush rise on your cheeks as excited surprise registered on your features. You maneuvered your hand in his so you could squeeze it. "I… Wow, I don't know what to say other than yes. Yes!"
Completely oblivious and uncaring about the other people in the restaurant, you stood up and he followed your lead, and you launched yourself into his arms, a few happy tears being shed free with the relief of knowing for certain that you would never be alone in the world again.
TBC