Part Six: Let's Give it a Try

A/N: The "golden thread" reference was inspired by the line "But threads that are golden don't break easily" in the Tori Amos song Horses on the "Boys For Pele" album.

No more broken hearts
We're better off apart
Let's give it a try
(Tell me, tell me, tell me lies)

A miasma of sorrow choked the hotel room with silence as Sydney and Vaughn dressed and readied themselves to face the world.

"Do you want any breakfast?" After tucking his shirt in, Vaughn walked over to the table where a leather bound folder lay. He picked it up and began leafing through the room service section. Syd finished buttoning her suit jacket and shook her head.

"I don't really feel like eating anything." Vaughn looked at her and nodded.

"You know what? Neither do I." He placed the folder back on the table.

The silence resumed as they packed their bags. Sydney finished the packing by placing the op tech in a bag specifically made for the purpose. She grabbed all the bags, and placed them next to the door. Vaughn watched her with wistfulness and regret, then turned his attention to the phone.

Syd watched him call the contact, and tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear. Her thoughts drifted not to the wild coupling of last night, but to the tender lovemaking of this morning. While in the darkness they evoked every physical pleasure to be found, in the light and the water they evoked every emotion.

Before entering the shower with Vaughn, Syd felt sure she could take this night in its proper context, and place it into that part of her mind where she placed all emotional thoughts and memories that could threaten her stability. Danny was there, Will was there, and she had even put her mother there. When she made the decision to give herself to Vaughn one final time, she also decided that afterwards, she would place him there as well.

It seemed like a sound decision, one that would help both of them endure their continued separation. And going through the night wearing their lies should've served to make enacting her decision easier.

But then they made slow, gentle love in the shower, and all the lies washed down the drain. Afterwards, when she sat in the tub with him wrapped around her, she discovered her folly. She would never, ever be able to compartmentalize Michael Vaughn. She thought the reason she hadn't before was due to her refusal to try, her irrational belief that he would be returned to her. But now she knew that she hadn't because it was impossible.

Vaughn wasn't just an emotion or a memory to her. He was a golden thread wrapped around her heart, as she was wrapped around his. And if ever that thread was removed, the heart would bleed to death. She realized that had already been happening to both of them; they had been slowly bleeding to emotional death.

This morning, they came together and stopped the bleeding. This morning they were sorrowful, but they were also heart-whole. This morning marked a new beginning. The thought buoyed Sydney's spirits.

Vaughn hung up the phone and turned to Syd in an echo of last night. Once again his eyes were filled with myriad emotions, which she identified as sadness, resignation, and dread anticipation.

"We're clear. There's a car waiting for us behind the hotel." Vaughn sighed heavily. "Ready?" Syd nodded and picked up the bags. Vaughn strode over and opened the door for her, then shut it behind them after exiting. He relieved Syd of his bag and the op tech bag, and silently led the way out.

Their contact would take care of the checkout and the rental car, so that they wouldn't have to be seen again. They simply had to meet their ride to the small airstrip outside of the city, and then take the jet waiting there home.

Just as promised, a dark sedan with heavily tinted windows sat in the alley behind the hotel. A small, wiry man with spectacles and a mustache leaned against the hood. Without any greeting, he opened the back doors for the two agents, and then the trunk. He got into the car himself, and started it, trusting the agents to take care of themselves. Syd and Vaughn deposited their bags in the trunk, and then got into the car.

It was another silent car ride to the airport. Though the driver was a CIA contact, and completely trustworthy, Syd and Vaughn had nothing mission related to say, and anything else they might speak about, they didn't want overheard.

The silence followed them, loyal as a shadow, as the driver parked at the airstrip, and the agents took themselves and their belongings out of the car.

As she and Vaughn headed to the jet's hatch, Syd looked up at the overcast sky. She found it somewhat appropriate. A first glance, and everything looked gloomy and darkened. However, she knew that soon they would be flying above the clouds where the sun shined and the sky blazed azure.

They boarded, tossed their bags into some empty seats, and found seats for themselves across from each other. They buckled themselves in per the pilot's instructions, and prepared for immediate takeoff.

Syd looked at Vaughn expectantly, but he seemed disinclined to eye contact, much less speech. He merely slumped in his seat and stared into nothingness. Every few minutes he would take his hand and run it across his face, or over his head.

Syd watched him do this during the plane's ascent, and for twenty minutes after it leveled off above the clouds.

That's when she decided that she'd had enough.

"You keep doing that and you're going to be noseless and bald by the time we get back." She looked at him very blandly, and prayed he took the joke.

Unfortunately, he just gave her a hard look. The anger had returned to his eyes, full force, and some of it was directed to her. Syd's face softened.

"Vaughn, what's wrong?" A look of incredulity came over his face, and the burning in his eyes intensified. However, his voice carried to her with deadly calm.

"How can you ask me that? It's not like you don't know." Syd could've slapped herself on the forehead. Of course she knew. His eyes were telling her the same story that hers told him this morning. She had let go of her hopelessness and desperation, and he had taken it in.

"I'm sorry. So, so sorry." The flames in his eyes burned even brighter.

"For what? Last night?" Syd's eyes widened, and she quickly leaned forward.

"Oh no, no! Not at all!" The green fire banked slightly.

"For what then?" Sydney reached out and took Vaughn's hands into hers.

"For this morning," she squeezed his hands and continued before his anger could escalate again. "For how I was feeling. Ever since Hong Kong, and I saw you wearing that wedding ring," her eyes slid down to the gold band that now they both detested. "I've had hope. It was the first emotion I felt when I saw you that night. That, and love." Her eyes came back to his, and she was relieved to see that the burning there subsided to coals. Still there, but not in the forefront.

"Those feelings couldn't be put away, couldn't be defeated by a scrap of gold. They were still there when I was so angry with you. They were probably the reason why I was so angry with you. Because I still had hope and love."

Syd felt the memories and the moisture gathering in the corners of her eyes, but she couldn't stop.

"Then we started working together, and I felt like a piece of my life had been returned to me. Even though I couldn't have you to myself, you were still there to help me, protect me, and give me someone to trust. Then in North Korea," Syd paused, her voice choking up, the tears beginning to fall. "You told me that my hope and love wasn't in vain. Before then, I thought that I was just torturing myself, holding myself back, but it was for a reason. Even when you hurt me, every time you went back to Lauren, I never gave up."

Unable to speak at a normal volume anymore, Syd lowered her voice. "Then, we found out about her. I hurt so much for you. But I hurt so much for myself too. And even though Dixon and my dad told you it would only be until we found the Passenger, I knew better. You're a Covenant asset, if we take Lauren into custody, they might try to kill you. I knew that you might have to keep pretending until we were sure that wouldn't happen, and that could only be guaranteed by bringing down the Covenant. We don't know how long that'll take, we don't know what'll happen before then. I had to let you know how I feel, because it might've been my last chance."

She finished by breaking down completely, sobs long repressed tearing from her. Vaughn released his seat belt, and leaned over to embrace her, not noticing that he was crying too. They held each other for long minutes until Syd had no more tears. Vaughn whispered gently to her.

"What changed?"

She lifted her head from his soaked shoulder, wiped her face, sniffled, and then smiled at him.

"This morning, after the shower," her cheeks colored a bit, and made him smile. "I realized that I just couldn't shuffle what I feel away. That's what I was going to do, but I can't. But it's wonderful. It's wonderful that I love you and you love me," she paused, looking into his eyes, afraid she might be dreaming. But the way he looked at her didn't lie, and she continued. "And we'll be together. Maybe not together like we really want to be, but we'll be together, and that's enough to keep me going."

Though she'd stopped crying, the tears continued to slowly trickle down his cheeks.

"Yes, yes we will be." He hugged her, tightly enough to steal her breath, and kissed her temple. "Can you promise me something?"

"Probably not." He closed his damp eyes and pressed them to her shoulder.

"You're right. But, how about this - barring capture or death, will you stay near me?" She squeezed him back.

"What about undercover missions and reassignments?" He sighed heavily. This was too difficult, and she kept reminding him.

"Whatever you can give me Syd, I'll gladly take. Just promise to stay with me when you can, only go away when it's impossible not to."

"I always meant to. What about you?" His voice came breathy and desperate to her ear.

"Yes, always, always."

It was almost like a spy's version of a wedding vow.

They finally released each other, and shared a chaste kiss. The leaned back in their seats and spent a few minutes wiping eyes and noses, regaining composure.

After using Vaughn's handkerchief to clean her face, Sydney shook her head somewhat disgustedly.

"Look at us! We're so depressing. You'd think we're going to our execution." She unbuckled herself and stood up. "In fact, I think we were cheerier going before the firing squad!" She started towards the back of the plane.

"Where are you going?" Vaughn called after her.

"I'll be right back!"

He leaned his head into one hand, and tapped the armrest with the other. A few minutes later, Syd returned not to their seats, but a set of seats nearby facing a table. He rose to see what she'd brought.

Little bottles littered the table, at least two dozen of them. They were all full of various sorts of liquor. She turned to him and smiled, a small bottle of tequila already in her hand.

"The CIA stocks these jets well. Let's see, we'll have a stop in London to refuel before flying to New York, and then the flight to L.A. I think we have time for a good drunk."

Vaughn looked at her for a moment with disbelief. Then he shook his head and returned her smile. It was going to be a very long flight, and he could use "a good drunk." As he remembered, it was fun being drunk with Sydney. Of course, being drunk with her always led to other things, but they'd already taken care of that, right?

He picked up a little bottle of gin and tapped it to her tequila.

"Cheers."

"Cheers."