And here is Chapter 3. Sorry it's taking so long. I've been busy, as well as fresh out of inspiration. Thanks once again to my beautiful beta and you who reviewed. I really appreciate the support!

-Falling from Grace-

Less than ten minutes later, Sydney watched as Vaughn emerged from his car. He looked incredible as always, clad in a tight gray t-shirt and jeans that appeared to have been made just for him. She silently hoped that her mutinous eyes would not be caught staring as she assumed her position on the pitching mound. Seriously, could the man please just have one bad hair day or something?

"Hey guys." Vaughn tried to act casual as stepped onto the field. Sydney looked delicious in her track pants and tank top. He loved her in sporty clothes. He loved her in formal clothes. He loved her in no… damn it. He reigned in that train of thought. What are you doing? You're married, remember? Wife. Wife. Wife. His new mantra, however, soon fell victim to Sydney's backside as she bent over to retrieve a ball. Vaughn firmly clenched his jaw to keep it from hanging open.

"Hey there, Teary," Weiss drew his attention, "You better get ready. These rockets that I'm about to hit are going to give you a workout." Weiss swung his bat at the air in a rough pantomime of a grand hit, following the fictional ball with his eyes. Apparently, the crowd went wild. "That is, if Bambi over here thinks she can throw the ball all the way over the mound."

Sydney's quick throw hit Weiss solidly in the gut. He inhaled sharply, causing Vaughn to laugh. "You know better than that, Eric. I think it was Confucius who said, 'Don't taunt those who can kick your ass'."

Weiss groaned and Sydney smiled proudly as she picked up another ball. "You ready, boys?"

Twenty minutes later, it was Sydney's turn at bat. Vaughn stepped up to the mound as Weiss reluctantly made his way into the outfield. Sydney hit each pitch with the solid swing of a veteran ball player. The satisfying crack as bat met up with ball was doing wonders for her mood.

Vaughn dodged to the left as another ball whizzed within a foot of his head.

"What's up, Syd?" Weiss called from the outfield. "You usually hit them all out of the park. What happened to that infamous ball control?"

"Just and off day, I guess." Crack. The next swing sent a high pop over the left fence. "Huh. You must have done something to my rhythm… Don't hurt yourself crawling over that fence, now."

Weiss snorted indignantly and clamored awkwardly into the briar patch that was far left field.

"Amazing recovery," he mumbled to himself as he picked a thorn out of his sock. "Note to self, harness Syd's powers for good, rather than evil."

Vaughn was up next. As he picked up the bat, they heard the unwelcome sound of three pagers going off in unison. Sydney reached hers first.

"Looks like we're done here," she sighed as she looked at the number on her pager. Vaughn and Weiss groaned audibly as they grabbed the equipment and trudged toward the cars.

""

Lauren was the first to arrive at the meeting. She sat patiently in her chair and watched as Jack strode purposefully through the door and took in his surroundings with a cursory glance before seating himself on the opposite side of the room from Lauren. The ensuing silence seemed to suck the air from the room and leave in its wake only awkward tension. Thankfully, Marshall soon stumbled into the room, followed by Dixon. It was still silent, but Lauren felt much more at ease when she was not alone with the elder Bristow. Dixon looked at his watch and sighed. Almost as if on cue, Vaughn, Weiss and Sydney poured into the room stifling their laughter at whatever they had been discussing on their way in the door. Lauren rolled her eyes.

"Now that we're all here," Dixon began, "we can get this meeting started." Sydney, Vaughn and Weiss took the three remaining seats and waited for Dixon to continue.

"We have recently become aware of the existence of a pivotal Rambaldi artifact. Intel suggests that the message contained in this device is of great consequence, and rumored to be called his 'Golden End.' Other than its importance and its name, however, we know nothing about what it might hold or what it could possibly mean. We must obtain this artifact." Dixon tossed folders to Sydney, Vaughn, and Weiss. "Agent Weiss, you will be on surveillance. Agents Bristow and Vaughn, you are to retrieve this 'Golden End'."

Lauren rolled her eyes. She was convinced that if she did it one more time they would roll right out of her head. The Bristow-Vaughn team made her physically ill. How was she supposed to keep them apart when it seemed that everyone else in the world was trying to bring them together? She sighed inaudibly. She would be much more effective at her job if she wasn't constantly worrying that her husband would lose interest in her.

Dixon looked at Marshall, alerting him to the fact that it was his turn to speak.

"Uh… hey guys." Marshall smiled, "Looks like you were outside, huh? Your cheeks are a little pink, Syd, you know, from the sun. I mean, I assume that's what did it. Not that pink is bad. I, uh… pink is definitely a good color on you." Sydney was turning pinker by the second. "Come to think of it," Marshall continued, "all colors…"

"Marshall," Dixon interjected, "why don't you tell them about the Op Tech."

"Oh, uh, right. Okay. So, this little baby right here," he grinned as he held up an object the size of a golf ball and that bore a slight resemblance to a pacifier, "is so that you can breathe underwater. You put your mouth on it, like so," he demonstrated, struggling to continue this lecture around the object stuffed in his mouth. Sydney strained to make out the words. "And you're good to go for about sixty minutes." Marshall spit out the device before continuing, "And this," he picked up the next item, "is a diving mask." He put the mask on his face and smiled a big goofy grin. "I don't know what kind of conditions you'll be expecting, so it comes with night vision capabilities, oh, and I also built a laser into the side, in case this golden thing is locked or something. You know, always be prepared. You know that… right Agent Vaughn? That's why they call you…"

Again, Dixon was forced to interrupt. "Thank you Marshall." He then turned to Sydney, Weiss and Vaughn. "You better start packing. The plane leaves for Greece in three hours." And with that, the meeting adjourned.

Sydney walked to her desk, sat down, opened the file Dixon had given her and sighed. Another day, another alias.

""

Lauren walked out of the JTF building and headed toward her car. Once she was securely inside, she picked up her cell and dialed. Three rings later, he answered.

"Hello Love. I wasn't expecting a call from the likes of you until later this week. Though I understand your desire to hear my voice, for the sake of your cover we should keep these conversations few," said the cocky, British voice.

"Don't flatter yourself, Julian," she snapped. "There's been a development."

""

Three hours later Sydney, Weiss and Vaughn were sitting on the plane headed for Thessaloniki. Once there, they would drive to Olympiada and the nearby ruins of Ancient Stagira. Only they were no longer Sydney Bristow, Eric Weiss and Michael Vaughn. They were now Kayla Cooper, Jonathan Brandt and Aden West. Although, the small size of Olympiada rendered the aliases almost insignificant. The rare visitor to this remote location was either the intrepid philosopher bound to see the famed birthplace of Aristotle or the odd archeologist. No, she thought, this mission would be incredibly free of conflict. The profile was to appear to be three friends on a tour of Greece making a brief stop in Olympiada along their way. They would stay there tonight, grab the artifact tomorrow and be safely on their outbound plane by evening. This mission would be a walk in the park.

At least the recon part of it would be simple, she thought to herself. It was the rest of the dynamic that was going to be difficult. The part where she was supposed to spend time with Vaughn, and act as though nothing was wrong; act as though she maintained some semblance of propriety; act as though she didn't want to drag him into that tiny airplane restroom and have her way with him; act as though her heart wasn't breaking. Not that she didn't have a lot of practice at this, because she did. She did it all day, every day. Come to think of it, how could her heart continue to break each and every time she saw him? Shouldn't it be completely shattered by now? Wasn't it?

­Vaughn's voice shook her from her reverie. "Hey, Syd, are you okay?"

Startled, she collected every ounce of eloquence that she currently possessed and replied, "Uh, yeah, sure. Why wouldn't I be?" Practically Shakespeare.

"I dunno. You just seem a little out of it." Vaughn sounded genuinely concerned.

"Oh, no," she assured him, "No, I'm fine."

"Oh, okay."

Jesus, this was awkward. Sydney looked over at Weiss, hoping he would throw her a life preserver – do something that would halt or at least slow her descent into this conversational quicksand. Damnit, she thought to herself as she gazed on Eric sleeping peacefully. She could almost feel Vaughn's appraising green eyes. He was waiting for something. A conversation? Maybe. But what should she say? She thought for a moment before speaking.

"How are you?" She winced mentally. Yeah, that was well worth the wait. Idiot.

"Oh, alright. You know, keeping busy."

This had to be one of the most mundane conversations that had ever taken place on the face of the planet. She cringed, knowing it was her turn to speak.

"That's good. I'm glad to hear it." She paused briefly, searching for the phrase that balanced enough interest in Vaughn with disinterest in personal issues that it could remain a safe topic. She had to handle this carefully. She had to choose her words so that there was no possible way the conversation could turn to the subject of Lauren. She wracked her brain. "Too bad they don't serve honey roasted peanuts on these CIA planes." And the hits just keep on coming.

Vaughn looked at her quizzically. Weiss stirred beside them and grumbled, "Did someone say something about food?"

Both Sydney and Vaughn chuckled awkwardly as Weiss immediately drifted back into dreamland. And here Sydney remained – in hell.

"I didn't know you were so good at baseball," Vaughn broke the silence. "But then, I guess you always are the best at everything you do."

"Whatever." Sydney countered lamely; shooting another imploring look at Eric that was wasted on his unconscious form.

"No, seriously. You're such an amazing athlete. You know, you remind me of my little sister. She always kicked my ass in sports. I guess that's why I got so into hockey. It's the only sport that I managed to excel in when she couldn't." Vaughn was smiling to himself. "You should meet her, Syd, she's great."

"I'd like that. I'll put her on my list of your family members to meet. Right along side your mother and your crazy Aunt Trish."

"Maybe you should take Aunt Trish off your list. You never know what could happen when she's involved." He grinned before continuing, "But you should definitely meet Ella. You guys would get along royally. Maybe when she gets back from her honeymoon, you, Andrew, Ella and I could go out to dinner or something."

Sydney was perplexed. Shouldn't Lauren be on the guest list? Not that she was complaining. She was fairly certain that the sight of Lauren across the table would ruin any meal… but still. She was his wife.

"Yeah, I'd like that," she offered finally.

The next hour or so flew by, as Sydney and Vaughn slowly fell into their old comfortable pattern. Connecting with him was beginning to feel familiar again. It felt so good to just talk. For a while, she almost forgot that everything had changed between them and that he was no longer Sydney's Vaughn. He was Lauren's Michael.

""

Desperate cries for help bounced off the walls of the small plane. Vaughn and Weiss were jolted awake, their ears assaulted with fits of hysteria.

"No! No! Please, please don't… No! Stay away!" Sydney screamed as she tossed and turned violently in her sleep. She was shaking uncontrollably and drenched in sweat.

"Syd! Syd, wake up! It's just a dream, you're having a bad dream!" Vaughn tried desperately to shake her from her nightmare. She continued to sob, "Please! Please just don't!" He looked helplessly at the fragile form in front of him. He wanted to save her. He wanted to take the pain away. He wanted to pull her into his lap and rock the nightmares away. But he couldn't. Somehow he didn't have the right anymore.

Weiss reached across the seat and wrapped his arms around her as he whispered, "Syd, Babe, you're okay, you're okay." He pulled her into his chest and gently soothed her to consciousness. "You're okay," he repeated soothingly. "Shhhh…"

Sydney slowly calmed her breathing and opened her eyes. She looked like a frightened little girl, so vulnerable and so incredibly helpless. Tears trailed silently down her face and Vaughn was wracked with guilt. Not because he had made her like this. He hadn't. Or at least, he was fairly certain he was not the cause. But he was not the one to comfort her. He was no longer the one she could turn to. For the first time, he was hit with the realization that he was no longer her guardian angel. He watched from a distance as Weiss eased Sydney back to sleep and let slumber take him as well, his arms still securely fastened around her. Vaughn's heart wrenched at the sight of his best friend and the woman he loved nestled safely in his embrace.