-Making a Move-

Click. Click. Click. Vaughn's breath caught in his chest as he heard the familiar footfalls echoing down the corridor. It was all he could do to keep from grinning like a fool when she pulled back the chain link fence and walked toward him. Just seeing her…

"Hi."

"Hey," Sydney smiled. There was a moment of awkward silence before she continued, "Déjà vu."

Vaughn's eyes scanned the familiar crates that surrounded him, triggering memories of things that had happened years ago, as well as things that he once wished had happened. The latter images were just as vivid. The recollection of one of his steamier cage fantasies made blood suddenly rush to his cheeks.

Without acknowledging Vaughn's obvious discomfort, Sydney began with business. "I picked up the item from Marshall," she said as she reached into her bag and pulled out a syringe that looked like it could take down a horse.

Vaughn's eyes widened and he sputtered helplessly, "How am I going to inject her using that thing without her knowledge?"

"You won't," Sydney stated simply as she continued to rummage through her bag. She found what she was looking for and held it out to Vaughn, along with the syringe. "This a sleeping pill. Dissolve it in Lauren's drink and it should knock her out cold for five hours, maybe six. As long as you inject the tracker in a location where she can't see the insertion point, we should be fine. So that just leaves one thing. We're going to need to find out where the artifact is being held."

"Today," Vaughn explained as he gingerly took the syringe from Sydney's outstretched palm, "during the briefing. I'll break into Dixon's office and get what we need."

Sydney knew it was risky, but she also knew that it was the only way. No one else had the clearance to access that information. Reluctantly she agreed, "Alright then. Today."

""

The meeting had been underway for a little over ten minutes when Sydney looked over at Vaughn and knew instinctively that he was about to make his move. Well, if she were honest, instinct really had little to do with her assessment. He looked like he was going to throw up. His face was unusually pale, he was sweating, and he had apparently developed a cough. Wondering if he was a truly amazing actor or if he had forced down rotten food in preparation for this moment, she refocused her attention on her father.

Vaughn's body was racked by another loud fit of coughing, this one nearly doubling him over the table, forcing Jack to pause in the middle of his explanation.

Dixon spoke up, "Agent Vaughn, are you alright?"

"Actually," he choked out, then stopped abruptly as his hand flew to cover his mouth.

"Why don't you take a break," Dixon suggested. "Go home if you need to."

Vaughn nodded and slowly rose to his feet. As he made his way to the door, Sydney silently wished him luck.

Five minutes later, the meeting was wrapping up. As agents began gathering papers and stood to leave, Sydney shifted nervously. Vaughn had yet to call her to let her know that he had safely cleared Dixon's office. She would have to stall.

Dixon glanced over at a slightly distraught looking Sydney, "Is there anything else?"

She searched her brain for an effective way to extend the meeting. "Marshall… " she said a little too loudly, promptly halting the mass exit and drawing the focus of ten pair of eyes. Sydney cleared her throat nervously.

He looked awkwardly around the room and slowly pointed to himself, "Mmm…me?"

Sydney nodded, "I was wondering if you could talk more about your efforts at finding the artifact."

Marshall looked startled and flattered at the same time. It was rare that anyone actually requested that he expand on something. Not one to turn down the chance to talk, he explained, "Well, it might help if I told you what inspired me. You see, Carrie was in the kitchen one day during her pregnancy and she couldn't get to the higher cabinets… you know, because of her stomach. I mean, not to say that she was fat… she was… well, fat stomached, but - but it comes with the pregnancy. She was no fatter than any other pregnant woman. Not that pregnant women are fat. I mean… uh…wow…could we maybe not tell Carrie that I used the f-word? It kinda makes her grumpy. Oh! Don't tell her I used that word either…"

As Marshall stumbled on, Sydney's phone vibrated silently in her hand. Now for the next step.

""

"The CIA has three locations in Azerbaijan that they suspect as possible covers," Vaughn explained as he handed Sydney a file. "Each is a likely site of Covenant activity."

"Great. Now we just have to figure out which one is our target," she replied distractedly as she scanned the pages. "Okay, the first site appears to be a training ground. They wouldn't keep the artifact there."

"With all of the new faces coming and going, it would be too easy to penetrate," he agreed, peering at the list from over her shoulder.

She raised her head to respond and was immediately cut short by his proximity. Sydney's every movement stilled as her eyes darted from his lips to his eyes, then back again. His mouth hovered achingly close to hers. His warm breath fluttered against her cheek, nearly obliterating her rapidly unraveling control. If I just moved a little… No! Focus. With all of the self-discipline she could muster, Sydney swallowed past the lump in her throat and pulled back. "Right," she said on a shuddery breath.

Vaughn's voice faltered as he attempted to refocus on the files, "And the second one is a medical facility, which…"

"…would have little to no security," she finished for him. With regained composure she continued, "So it looks like we are left with only one option."

He nodded, "The downtown office building."

""

Vaughn walked into the bedroom carrying two cups of tea. Lauren sat up in the bed and accepted hers graciously. "Thank you, darling. Though I do feel guilty – you are the one who is sick. I should be serving you."

"It's no problem. I was getting some for myself anyway," he said as he joined her on the bed. Vaughn watched intently as she cautiously sipped at the scalding beverage. She was taking very dainty sips for someone with such a large mouth.

They sat in silence for a moment before Lauren struck up the conversation. She was saying something about her day, but Vaughn had no clue what it was. He was absolutely incapable of focusing his flagging attention on anything other than watching for signs that she was about to keel over. Damn. Drink faster, woman! He should have given her milk. Something she could drink quickly. Why tea?

"Michael, are you listening to me?" Lauren's irritated voice brought him back to the present.

"Yes, of course I'm listening... and I agree." He took a shot. Looking over at Lauren, he could see that he had missed. Luckily, his phone chose that precise moment to ring. "It's Ella," he informed her, looking down at the display. "I'm going to take it in the other room." Vaughn picked up his tea and breezed out the door.

Plopping onto the couch he answered his phone. He bypassed traditional pleasantries and went straight for the jugular, "I can't believe you."

"Hey you," she responded, ignoring his opening remark. "What's up?"

"You've been leaking information," he accused. It didn't really bother him, but he had to needle her about it. He couldn't let her off the hook without any confrontation. That simply was not how the game was played.

"What am I, a spy? I don't 'leak information.' I told your special friend some embarrassing stories about your childhood. I can hardly be judged for that. It is my lot in life, after all. I am your younger sister."

"Special friend?"

"Ah," she smiled, "I have hit a nerve, yes?"

Vaughn sat up defensively, "She is not my 'special friend.'"

"What is she?"

He thought for a moment. None of the descriptions that came to mind were suitable for public dissemination. He went for the generic, "She's just a friend."

Ella scoffed dismissively, "And you expect me to believe that? What do you think I am, a referee? I'm not blind. I can see what is in front of my face, thank you very much."

"What are you talking about? I am a married man. I do not have a 'special friend,'" Vaughn argued stubbornly. "And for the record, I can't believe that we have managed to work that phrase into this conversation so many times."

"Well, we wouldn't have to use the phrase if you didn't have a 'special friend.'" She forged ahead, unimpressed by his lackluster denials, "And don't tell me you don't. I haven't seen you smile for the past two years, Mike. But when we were out to dinner with Sydney you barely ate a bite because you couldn't wipe that shit-eating grin off your face long enough to open your mouth. And don't think I don't see the subtle ways you touched her. That 'let me help you hold your hockey stick' routine is textbook. Textbook, my friend."

Vaughn winced uncomfortably. He struggled to come up with an acceptable excuse but knew instinctively that she wouldn't buy any of them. He opted instead for a shift in topic. "Alright, Kiddo. Did you call for a reason, or…"

"Actually, I did. Not that I should need a reason to call my loving older brother, but I suppose I can let that rather egregious error slide."

"The reason?" he prompted.

"Well," Ella cleared her throat dramatically, "as you know by now, I thoroughly enjoy the company of one Ms. Sydney Bristow, and Andrew and I would like to double date again. I use the term 'date' loosely of course, since we are all very aware of the fact that you are not even remotely attracted to her in any inappropriate way…"

Though he realized immediately that this scenario would only provide more ammunition for his sister's biting wit, there was no way that Vaughn would pass up an opportunity for the four of them to spend another evening together. "I'll talk to Syd and see what I can…"

"'Syd', huh? Do you call Lauren 'Lo' or do you only have cute little nicknames for your platonic friends?" she asked with devilish persistence.

"You are so funny," Vaughn's eyes slid to the ceiling affectionately as he countered disingenuously, "I am busting a gut over here. Hardy har har."

"Alright, Mr. Snarky Pants. But just so you know, Syd's a big beer and pizza fan."

"I know what she likes."

"Oo… already catalogued her likes and dislikes, eh?" Ella asked smugly.

"You're hopeless," he shook his head and reached for his tea. As he placed the cup to his mouth he realized that it had turned cold. Lauren had almost certainly finished her drink by now and would be fast asleep. "El, I've got to get going."

"Aye aye, Captain. Call me later."

"Will do." Vaughn disconnected and trudged toward the bedroom. Lauren was sprawled inelegantly across the bed, unconscious. He reached under his mattress and pulled the bag from its stellar hiding place. He removed the syringe and slid Lauren's nightgown off her shoulder to bare the center of her upper back. With a satisfying pop, the needle pierced her skin.

""

"So Lauren thinks you're at your mom's?" Sydney asked as she zipped up her jacket.

Vaughn nodded as he strapped himself into his harness. "Yeah, I told her I needed some space." He cinched the final buckle and looked up, "Ready."

"Okay, let's go."

They stepped out of the shadows and silently approached the office building. The surrounding bushes combined with the dark of night would keep them well hidden until they could get inside. As they crouched low to the ground, Sydney removed a gun from her satchel. She looked up the side of the building, took aim and fired. Vaughn watched as the nylon cord unraveled and the suction cup fastened to the sixth story window. Sydney repeated the action with a second cord.

Vaughn scowled as he relieved her of the first rope. "Are you sure these can hold us?"

"They better," she answered simply.

"That's reassuring," Vaughn retorted skeptically as he followed Sydney's lead and clipped the cord onto his harness. She gave the length a tug to test the hold before pulling herself up, one hand on top of the other, pressing her feet against the building for leverage. He watched her ascend the side of the building and soon followed suit. Once they reached the sixth floor they dangled precariously as Sydney removed a hand-held laser cutting tool from her bag.

"So," Vaughn began casually, as if they weren't hanging from a suction cup sixty feet in the air, "Ella called yesterday. She mentioned that she and Andrew would like to… go out with the two of us again."

Sydney remained focused on her task, cutting a large circle in the window as she spoke, "We'll have to see about that. I think now might not be the best time." She looked up from the red beam in time to see his shoulders slump in defeat. She went on, her voice firm but gentle in its sincerity, "You wouldn't want Lauren to become suspicious. Plus, we've got other things we need to focus on." With those last words Sydney completed the circle.

Deflated, Vaughn nodded in agreement. He reached past her, carefully removed the glass and placed it inside the window before entering the room. Sydney followed close behind.

Once inside, Vaughn crept cautiously through the darkened office and flattened himself against the door. He eased upright, peering through the small window and into the hallway. Ducking back down, he gestured to Sydney that no guards were visible.

Heading straight to the computer, Sydney began to take the requisite steps to disable the building's security system. "It looks like the highest security area is a laboratory in the east corner of the ninth floor. That's where the artifact will be," she said as she turned to see Vaughn place his hand on the doorknob. "Vaughn!" she hissed frantically as he began to twist. "Not yet!"

She was too late to halt his movement. A blaring alarm pierced through the night, destroying any hope of completing their mission without incident.