-Fate-

The plane had been in the air for over an hour, and Sydney was still caught in an awkward limbo between physically exhausted and mentally wired. The combination made her restless. She glanced across the cramped space and found that Vaughn was obviously not suffering the same difficulty. She sighed as she tapped her fingers on the arm of the seat and reviewed the day's events. God, it had been a great day. She could still feel the after effects of the adrenaline that had pulsed through her body as she and Vaughn retrieved the artifact and skillfully evaded capture. The two of them worked so well together, and they had such a good time doing it. No one could pull off playful banter in the midst of life and death situations as well as the Bristow-Vaughn team. She smiled as her eyes lingered on his sleeping form. The man was sexy. She wanted desperately to close the distance between them and crawl onto his lap. Oh, if it were only that easy. Vaughn may be married to a traitorous witch but he was still married, she reminded herself. And even if he weren't, there were a lot of things they would have to work through before any physical contact would be in order.

As her eyes continued to scan the room Sydney's attention fell on the black bag that she had carried during their mission. Looking at the spherical bulge protruding from the lower left side, it occurred to her that she still had no idea what exactly this 'Golden End' was. Sydney rose from her seat and, crossing to her bag, slowly removed the artifact. Holding the cool orb in her hands, she examined it. It weighed roughly eight pounds and was about five or six inches in diameter. As far as she could tell, the artifact was made entirely of bronze. The surface had been intricately engraved to resemble the earth's topography and was amazingly accurate considering most 16th century maps. She gently ran her hand over the façade and felt the bumpy texture on the pads of her fingers. Stopping abruptly, she investigated more closely and discovered a deep fissure that ran from the North to the South Pole, dividing the eastern and western Hemispheres. Pulling a screwdriver from her bag, she thrust it into the crevasse and pried the two pieces apart. A small hinge that had been hidden on the inside allowed the two halves to swing away from each other easily. Her eyes widened as she studied the interior of the orb. Oh my god.

""

"Agent Bristow, Agent Vaughn. Please come in," Dixon smiled as he held open his office door. Sydney and Vaughn entered the room and slid quietly into the chairs across from the director's desk. Dixon sat down and leaned back in his seat, his hands loosely steepled. He exhaled comfortably, "What can I do for you two?"

Instead of answering, Sydney opened her bag and retrieved the orb. She slid it slowly across the surface of Dixon's desk and sat back in her chair. The director studied the sphere for a moment before his eyes widened in recognition. "Is this…" he breathed.

"Yes," Sydney answered. "It's the 'Golden End.'" Dixon looked up and waited for her to continue, but the explanation came from Vaughn.

"A few days ago I acquired information that led me to believe that the artifact was being held at a Covenant base in Azerbaijan. Yesterday, Sydney and I went to retrieve it."

Dixon's eyebrows shot up and then came crashing down. "How did you acquire this information? And why wasn't I notified?" he demanded, gathering steam.

Vaughn resisted the urge to squeeze his eyes shut, "I found our mole."

""

"You have got to be shitting me."

Weiss, warming to his subject, began to pace around his living room, gesticulating wildly as he spoke, "Lauren is the mole. Lauren. Your wife Lauren?"

"Yes." Vaughn's voice sounded brittle and his eyes pleaded with Weiss to let it drop.

Softening, Weiss eased onto the couch next to him and sighed. "Oh, man. I'm sorry buddy. That really blows."

"And the worst part is that in order to use this to our advantage, I need to pretend that I don't know. I have to share my bed with a Covenant spy," Vaughn concluded raggedly.

"Well," Weiss studied his friend for a long minute, "it's not like you haven't been doing it all along." He saw the flash of hurt in Vaughn's eyes and an intense guilt shot instantly through him. "I'm sorry… I…"

Vaughn dismissed the apology as his gaze hardened, "No, you're right."

Weiss' cell phone rang. He listened for a moment before responding, "We'll be right in."

""

Twenty minutes later, Weiss and Vaughn took their seats as Dixon entered the conference room.

"Alright people, we have a situation."

Marshall looked around the room and then spoke up awkwardly, "Shouldn't we…uh…aren't we going to wait for Ms. Reed?"

"No we're not." Vaughn delivered the single sentence in a low, intense tone, causing Marshall to take a nervous step backwards and stumble into his seat.

Dixon cleared his throat, drawing the room's attention, "We have recently come to suspect that our failures as of late have not been coincidental. We were led to believe that there is a mole in our department. We were right."

Emotion flickered in Jack Bristow's eyes and Vaughn fought to contain a smile. The man was never caught off guard like this. He looked over at Sydney to see if she had noticed her father's surprise, but it was clear that she hadn't. She appeared to be deep in thought. Something obviously had her bothered and it wasn't the news that Lauren was a Covenant mole. An elbow in his side courtesy of Weiss made him redirect his attention to the meeting underway.

"… we will be holding another debrief tonight detailing our recovery of the 'Golden End.' Ms. Reed is bound to know about the missing artifact, so there is no use trying to deny it was the CIA. Jack will explain that there were undercover agents working in Azerbaijan and they effected our retrieval. We will also lead her to believe that the artifact is being held in one of our facilities. When Ms. Reed makes contact with Sark we will be able to either track her using the device implanted by Agent Vaughn, or listen to their plans on Marshall's phone tap. Either way, we will know when they have taken the bait."

Weiss spoke up, "What have we learned about the artifact?" Vaughn perked up at that. It hadn't occurred to him that the significance of the artifact may have already been discovered.

Marshall raised his hand timidly, "I uh… actually, I can answer that. I had a chance to study it earlier today." He looked at Dixon and received a nod of approval. Marshall stood as he began to describe his findings, "The artifact is a bronze globe which… wow… is amazingly accurate considering the time in which Rambaldi lived. I mean, this man was pure genius," he grinned widely. "You know how people ask who you'd like to have lunch with whether they're alive, dead or fictional? Well, let me tell you… my answer would be Rambaldi. Hands down. Over a nice pepperoni calzone I would ask him how he…"

"Marshall," Weiss interrupted, "does this train of thought have a caboose?"

"Right…good one, by the way," Marshall continued, "Uh, anyway, the globe opens on its North/South axis to reveal a picture and some text. The image is the same one found on page forty-seven of Rambaldi's manuscript," he looked at Sydney. "It's uh... it's the picture of you."

Vaughn glanced up quickly at that, attempting unsuccessfully to connect with Sydney. Her gaze was focused straight ahead, and strangely, she didn't look surprised at the new information. He saw only fatigue and quiet resignation in her bearing. He, on the other hand, was fuming. The last thing Sydney deserved was a dead prophet sticking his nose into her life again.

"The picture is surrounded by some code that I have not yet been able to break. It's like nothing I've seen before, and though I may be smart… like I said, Rambaldi was a genius, so…" he looked at Dixon, "I will work on it." Marshall began to sit down but jumped back up before he had settled. "Oh! And the other half of the sphere, the one opposite Agent Bristow's picture is in Italian. So, you know… that was no problem. It reads:

'You cannot fight fate. You can only fulfill your destiny.'"

"Thank you, Marshall. We will reconvene in two hours for our debriefing with Lauren. Remember, we must all act as though we are unaware of her true allegiance. This meeting never took place."

Sydney stood quickly and strode purposefully toward the door with her head down. She knew that she would face a myriad of questions if she didn't get out of there fast enough, and while she appreciated her friends' concern, she was in no mood to deal with it. She managed to make it out of the room and almost to her desk before she felt a hand on her arm, accompanied by a familiar voice.

"Sydney," it was a sound that combined concern with desperation.

Though she stopped, she spoke without turning, "Not now, Vaughn. I… can't."

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked softly.

Sydney whipped around and jerked her arm from his grasp. Her voice wavered as she struggled to control her volume. "Tell you what, Vaughn," she hissed. "Tell you that some psychopath fortuneteller has decreed that my life is not my own? Tell you that I am doomed to destroy the world?"

She had to stop to swallow the lump in her throat. Eyes cast downward in defeat, she fell from irate to resigned in the span of a moment, "Unless prevented at vulgar cost, this woman will lead the greatest power unto utter desolation." In a voice so strained he barely heard her, as though she were carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, Sydney continued, "That's what he's referring to. That is my fate, Vaughn. Desolation." She lifted a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose as if to ward off a headache, or maybe tears. With her hand covering her face, Vaughn wasn't sure which.

Watching her shoulders hunch, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, he realized that this idea, this awful concern was killing her and had been for quite some time. That knowledge caused his chest to tighten. But before he could formulate a response, she had spun on her heel and taken two long strides toward the door.

"Sydney," he tried again, this time almost frantic. He couldn't let her bare this burden alone.

Turning to face him she faltered, her throat tight and dry, eyes focused on a point on his chest, refusing to make eye contact. "What do you want, Vaughn?"

His green eyes were pleading as he cautiously approached her, afraid she might bolt if he moved too quickly. "I don't want you to leave like this," he breathed brokenly, forgetting their current location and reaching out to touch her. It wasn't until his hand cupped her cheek that he remembered where they were, who they were.

She shook him off, her tone biting, "Go back to your wife."

The unexpected outburst burned him. "That's not fair, Sydney, and you know it."

Meeting his eyes for the first time in the conversation, she spoke with conviction, "No, Vaughn, it's not."

Outwardly frozen, agony wringing his chest, he watched her walk away.

""

"Had better days, huh?" Andrew observed as he opened the door to greet his brother-in-law.

"You could say that," Vaughn answered weakly.

Andrew stepped aside and gestured toward the back of the house, "She's in there."

Vaughn entered and crossed to the kitchen, finding his sister toiling laboriously over a cutting board full of vegetables. She looked up and smiled as he entered the room.

Turning to her husband Ella offered, "Sweetie, why don't you go finish watching your game. I'll call you when dinner is ready."

"You don't have to ask me twice," he grinned as he kissed her on the cheek before slipping quietly out of the room.

Once they were alone, Ella's eyes narrowed. "Alright, spill."

Vaughn shook his head ruefully as he lowered himself onto a barstool, "I don't even know where to begin."

"Try the beginning," she quipped.

He looked up and caught her gaze. Feeling awkward and ineffective as he so often did when faced with having to discuss his feelings, he ran a hand through his hair. "Well," he began, "I suppose I'll start with the fact that I never loved Lauren."

"Tell me something I don't know," she said casually as she popped a piece of celery into her mouth.

Annoyed with her perceived omniscience, he decided to throw a curveball. "I'm in love with Sydney," he announced defiantly.

Ella only rolled her eyes playfully and laughed. She spoke between bites, "I said 'something I don't know.'"

Not wanting to perform the Heimlich, he waited for her to swallow. "Lauren is an enemy spy and Sydney is fated to destroy the world."

""""""""""

Bad news, my dear readers. Today is a day of grieving, for I will lose my cable internet connection. Yes, you read right. I am no longer steadily connected to the world wide web of wonder and instant gratification. I'm very distraught about this and am convinced I will have trouble breathing if not properly connected to the net.

With my beta in the next state (instead of the next room), and my internet found only at the local Starbucks, updates will not be as rapid. I apologize profusely.

I have a few chapters already written, so fret not… this is not the end. The saga continues…