-Taking Action-

The next hour seemed to drag on forever. Vaughn had too many thoughts racing through his mind to sit idly exchanging pleasantries with Sydney and Weiss. His head was a confusing jumble of new information and unanswered questions. His wife was working for the enemy. She was the enemy. How long had this been going on? Had she always been Covenant? Did she ever love him? Did he ever love her? Was their marriage no more than a mission? Lauren and Sark obviously had some form of relationship. How long had that been going on? How had he been so stupid? How many times had he led the enemy right to them? How many lives had he jeopardized with mere pillow talk? How much damage had he done?

And Sydney. Oh God, Sydney. How could he have treated her so horribly? He had given up on the woman who made his world spin and married an evil, traitorous, cheating witch. And when given the opportunity to have her again – when she had come back from the dead – he had turned her away because he felt that he owed it to his wife! Would he ever be able to fix this? Would she ever forgive him?

Vaughn looked over at Sydney. She was sitting on the couch in jeans and a tee shirt, her head thrown back in laughter at a story Weiss was telling. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. And she had no clue as to his true feelings. He'd told her that he had moved on.

"Well," Sydney interrupted his rambling cogitation, "I think I'm going to head home." She stood up and stretched, stifling a yawn.

"I'll walk you," Vaughn offered impulsively as she hugged Weiss goodbye.

Sydney shook her head, bemused at his over-exuberant protective streak. "Vaughn, I live next door."

"I know," he confessed a little sheepishly, "I just… thought it'd be nice."

She smiled, "Well, who am I to refuse a little chivalry?"

The walk was predictably brief, but Vaughn could not help but take the time to notice how beautiful the evening was. The stars shone brightly in the darkness of the night sky – such peacefulness struck a sharp contrast to the chaos that was his life. He inhaled the brisk night air and a cleansing cold saturated his lungs.

As Sydney strolled beside him she couldn't fight a wistful smile. Wondering if things would ever feel normal between them, trying to recall a time when their relationship hadn't been awkward on so many levels, she resisted the urge to lean into him, to take shelter from the cold in the warmth of his body.

They arrived on her doorstep and she silently slid her key into the lock. As she opened the door she turned to Vaughn. There was something there – a small spark. Of what, she couldn't tell. Whatever emotions battled behind the penetrating gaze of Michael Vaughn, she was no longer privy to their expression. She was merely an outsider.

"Thank you for the escort," she said as she stepped through the threshold. She nodded slightly in a gesture of appreciation and began to close the door.

"Actually," he leaned forward, placing his hand on the door jam in an effort to stop it from closing, "my intentions might not have been completely selfless. I was hoping to talk to you for a minute."

She hesitated, searching his face for answers. The present grasp she maintained on her emotions was tenuous at best. She could ill afford to spend more time in the presence of this man who held so much power over her. A tinge of suspicion slipped out with her words, "Talk about what?"

His voice wavered slightly, "Can I come in?"

"Sure," she replied, dismissing her reservations as foolish as she switched on the light. "Come inside. Coffee?" she offered as she walked into the kitchen.

"That would be nice," Vaughn said as he eased onto the barstool and leaned against the counter. While Sydney prepared the coffee he struggled to sort through his thoughts and to plan what he would say – something I should have done earlier, he chided himself.

"So, what's up? What did you want to talk about?"

He sipped his drink for a moment, searching for a way to ease into the conversation. His eyes remained on the warm liquid, as if focusing on it would imbue him with the words he needed to convince her. When he finally looked up he saw that Sydney's body was stiff with tension, while her expression gave away nothing. "Sydney," he began in a low voice, "I wanted to apologize."

His words startled her. Any remaining hope that she could steer their conversation back to friendly inanities had fled the moment he had asked for her permission to come in; but standing over her stove, busying herself making coffee, she had attempted to prepare herself for what he had to say, for whatever lay ahead. Clearly, her efforts were woefully inadequate. She hadn't anticipated the raw pain she saw in his features. She hadn't expected his humble apology. She stood rooted to the spot.

Vaughn shifted helplessly in his seat, still laboring over his explanation. "Ever since you came back, I've… well, I've treated you horribly. I know that we aren't in the best situation, and I know I'm the one who put us here." He held up his hand to forestall any protest. "And before you say that I wasn't, hear me out." He sighed heavily, dragging his fingers through his hair in frustration. "When you came to tell me that you were okay with me returning to the CIA, I told you two things."

Sydney nodded. She still felt the bruising from those fateful words. Unbidden, the entire conversation played through her head.

Before you tell me you can handle me coming back to the CIA, there are two things you need to know. First... is that I was so in love with you... it nearly killed me. And second... that I don't regret moving on with my life.

No, he didn't need to remind her of that exchange. It had been burned into her from the moment he had uttered it.

Vaughn's next words, however, were new. "I lied," he confessed as he forced her eyes to meet his. "I did and I do regret moving on. If I'm honest with myself, there was not a moment when I didn't regret it. Yes, I was in hell when you died, Syd. Of course I was. 'Hell' doesn't even begin to describe it. But just because I started dating again, just because I married Lauren – that hell didn't go away. And when I said that I was so in love with you that it nearly killed me, I lied too. It did kill me. I died when you disappeared, Syd. My soul shriveled up and I died, and marrying Lauren did nothing to bring me back to life. I need you to know that."

Her eyes filled with unshed tears but didn't waiver from his, absorbing everything that he had said, unsure of how to respond. This was a man she loved more than life itself. This was a man from whom she had ached to hear those very words. This was a man who was married.

Sydney felt her face flush with embarrassment, guilt immediately swamping her. She had no right to accept his declarations; she couldn't surrender to temptation, the fallout would be catastrophic.

Space. She needed space to think about what this meant. Space in which she could logically assess the situation; where her every intake of breath wasn't laced with his aftershave, with his nearness. Awkwardly she started to withdraw, attempting to put some distance between them.

"Syd," he breathed unsteadily, destroyed by the possibility that he was already too late, "somewhere in the mess of counter missions and secret meetings I fell in love with you. And I've been in love with you ever since. There's nothing I regret more than the fact that I've never said the words to you.

"Sydney, I love you."

He reached across the counter and placed his hand on top of hers. He hesitated and swallowed hard when she flinched at his touch. "I'm not trying to win you back. I know that I've probably missed my chance. But I still need you to know – need you to believe. I love you with all my heart."

As he gently squeezed her hand Sydney felt the pressure of a cold metal band against her skin. She found it hard to swallow. Too many emotions clogged her throat. Her heart constricted, hardening against the love and desire that clawed desperately at her insides. Outwardly, she kept her shoulders rigid, unwilling to succumb. She took a step back, away from Vaughn, pitifully thankful for the bar that separated them, and gave voice to the question that had to be answered. "But, Vaughn, what about Lauren?"

Though spoken softly, the words struck him like a blow to the gut. He withdrew his hand and examined the ring for an endless moment. Slowly, eyes locked with Sydney, he removed it and set it on the table with grim finality. "It's been over for a long time. Since before it began. It just took me too long to admit it. And when I finally did manage to be honest with myself, I felt bound to her. I felt obligated to honor the vows that I had made." Vaughn's gaze lowered to the table, ashamed. "I didn't want to hurt her, Syd. But that doesn't matter anymore."

"Why not?"

Vaughn looked up at her beautiful face. Her eyes were so deep and haunted that he was sure he could see straight into her soul. He had not planned on telling her tonight. He did not want to bring her into this. But then, he realized, he already had. Vaughn braced himself before speaking what he had only recently acknowledged as truth. "Lauren is Covenant."

Sydney's eyes widened in shock. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words could find purchase on her lips.

Vaughn continued in an effort to explain, "She's been acting out of character recently and doing odd things. Things like lying about where she was going, and changing from extremely angry to uncharacteristically sweet without explanation. For a time I thought maybe she was having an affair, so I did some investigating. I went to see Marshall today and he made a program that allowed me to eavesdrop on Lauren's phone conversations."

The pieces were rapidly falling into place. "So that phone call tonight…"

Vaughn nodded. "Lauren got a call from Sark."

"Oh my god," Sydney breathed. "What did he say?"

"They've moved the artifact to a site in Azerbaijan so they could work on decoding its text."

Grateful for the distraction, she pounced on it, seized it, and forced everything else to the back of her mind. "So you don't know anything else? How long has Lauren been Covenant? What all has she told them?" She began to pace and spoke rapidly. "So Greece? And Denmark?" Sydney shook her head as she continued back and forth across the kitchen. "Lauren is the mole. We have to call Dixon," she insisted. "We have to do something."

"I'm going to do something," Vaughn affirmed. He tried not to think about how she had not yet acknowledged his declaration, about how she had so clearly pulled away from him. How foolish was he to try to press her for more while they were still struggling to regain pieces of their friendship? Resolutely he vowed to give her time, and give himself time to prove to her that for him there was no going back. She was his future. "I'm not going to tell Dixon. Not yet. This is my mistake, Sydney, and I'm going to fix it."

"What do you mean you're not going to tell him?" she asked, the pitch of her voice rising commensurate with the level of her incredulity. "We have to tell the CIA, Vaughn. They need to know."

"I understand that," he insisted, "but I want my chance to fix the mess I've made first. I'm going to retrieve the artifact. I'm the reason we don't have it."

"Vaughn, that's ridiculous. It's not your fault," she admonished.

"Yes it is. Please, Syd. You have to let me do this. Promise me that you won't tell anyone until I get back."

The pain etched in his face told her that further protests would be dismissed out of hand. She drew a deep breath and took a step forward, "Alright," she agreed. "I promise." Looking him straight in the eyes, she spoke her next words deliberately. "But I'm coming too."