Chapter 7: Embraceable You
A/n: So this is my other favorite chapter. And well, chapter eight is my other other favorite, hehe. Anyway, do enjoy.
"Embrace me, my sweet embraceable you, embrace me, you irreplaceable you."
– – – – – – –
Sydney had dreams over the weeks following her mother's visit and her father's warning (she was certain they were dreams- they were often in a cave, and her father fashioned a handlebar mustache). Despite the mustache, the dreams left her feeling drained and sleepless, a difficult predicament for someone forced to dance all day long.
Kerri helped her in that department. Her youthful spirit and incessant need for coffee trips contributed to Sydney's energy. And when she felt truly down, Desmond could on occasion cheer her up. Weiss could make her laugh at anything, but Vaughn would walk by and her heart would flutter.
Then he would walk up to his wife, and her heart would shatter.
One Sunday, Sydney slept in later than usual, finally having a dreamless night. Her eyes snapped open, however, when she heard a knocking on her door. She rose from her bed sleepily and trudged to the door. She opened the door and rubbed her eyes.
"Happy birthday!" Kerri shouted, pushing the door open further and barging inside. Sydney reset her feet and gained more balance. She glanced at the calendar on the wall in the kitchen; sure enough, it was December 14, Sophia's birthday.
"What are you doing here… so early?" Sydney yawned.
Kerri giggled, sitting down at the table with her legs crossed. "Silly! It's almost one!"
"PM?"
She nodded before getting a look on her face that expressed, 'Oh! I just remembered something!' Scavenging her purse atop the table, she pulled out an envelope. "Look, I have pictures from Thanksgiving." She handed Sydney the envelope as she joined her at the table. She scanned through the family photos. "God, I'm so much whiter than my sister and brother. They actually look half-Vietnamese."
"They look just like your dad."
"Well, he'd be the foreign one. Oh, look, it's one with my mom and the dog. I think she prefers the dog to us kids, I couldn't get any pictures of us together." She rolled her eyes.
Sydney couldn't help but think of her family. Her mother, she never was around, and Jack's presence was faded. Now it seemed reversed: Jack too involved and Irina showing up at inopportune moments. Not to mention telling her to do things she refused to–
"So, can I throw you a giant birthday bash, or what? You plan on getting dressed any time soon?"
Sydney stared down at her pajamas. "Oh. I guess I better do that."
Later, after a fun filled afternoon of shopping and girl talk, Kerri insisted on throwing a big party, but Sydney curtly declined. Instead, she opted for an evening out with Kerri, Desmond, and Weiss.
The four of them were all talking openly (and slightly drunk) after their meal. Weiss was telling a story about "his son."
"That's a good one, Nick," Desmond smiled, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arm around Sydney's back. Desmond met her gaze and lifted his glass. "Well, Sophia, happy thirty-second birthday."
Weiss interrupted. "May the next thirty-two be just as fun as the last," he slurred, gulping down his last swig of beer.
Her friends seemed to be enjoying themselves except for Sydney. Sophia may have been turning thirty-two, but Sydney was really thirty-three. She found it odd that she had missed her thirty-second birthday, and now was making up for lost time.
Suddenly her cell phone rang. "Hello?"
"Syd, it's Dixon," his deep voice canted.
"Hi, Mom, thanks! I can't believe I'm thirty-two either." She pulled the phone away from her ear and covered the mouth piece. "Excuse me, guys," she told the table, excusing herself to the lobby. "Hi Dixon, what's up?"
"We just received big intel, it couldn't wait until tomorrow." Sydney furrowed her brow in confusion as he continued. "There have been rumors surfacing about a new leader of Omega, and with Echelon and other sources, we have just confirmed its truth."
"That's probably why activity has been laying low for a while."
"Exactly, he's still determining his position. He calls himself the Black Russian."
"Do we have any leads as to his actual name?"
"We're thinking possibly Sark." Or my mother, Sydney thought, but couldn't bring herself to say. "Sydney, I really need to you to find out about Desmond's activity…"
"I'm working on it."
They shortly ended their conversation and Sydney returned to the table. Why hadn't she mentioned her mother? She knew she should have, she had known it ever since it happened. There was something that restrained her, an uncontrollable force within herself that wanted to protect her mother. But why?
She found Weiss alone at the table. "Kerri saw some guy she knew, and Desmond went to the bathroom," he explained.
"Good," Sydney said, sliding into her seat. "That was Dixon, it turns out there's a new leader of Omega. Calls himself the Black Russian."
"Okay, I know that's the name of a drink."
She ignored him. "We really have to watch out now, or so Dixon says."
Desmond rejoined them, prompting what felt like an awkward silence to Sydney. Kerri quickly followed. "God, that guy is such a bastard!"
"Wait," said Weiss, "you just said he was like your best friend a few minutes ago."
"Yeah, that was a few minutes ago?" she replied, in a "duh!" manner. "Whatever, I'm over him. Well, Soph, boys, this evening has been fun, but let's get some chocolate."
The foursome chatted a while longer, waiting for the bill to arrive. Suddenly Kerri's eyes lit up from across the table. "Well, look who it is."
Sydney turned. Oh. God. Help me now. It was Vaughn. And… Lauren. "Chris, Denise, hi," she greeted, pretending to be cheerful.
Lauren smiled around the table, but seemed to skip meeting Sydney's glare. Vaughn seemed to do just the opposite. "Oh, it's Sophia's birthday, isn't it? Happy birthday."
She held her cheeks in, hoping desperately they were not turning crimson. "Thank-you," she managed to mutter. Did he have to look so attractive tonight? Did he have to be so perfect and kind to her all the time? Did he have to go and marry that horrid blonde British bitch?
"Christopher, I'm getting hungry," Lauren uttered softly.
"Okay," he replied quickly. "Well, see you tomorrow at rehearsal."
They said their good-byes, but Sydney could hardly wave. No one appeared to be noticing her current state of anguish, luckily. She quickly darted her eyes at Vaughn, then brought them back to Desmond. She thought of her mother, her father, and their messages, she thought of Vaughn and the pain he caused her, and she thought of Rose's words.
"But things change. You can't always go back to the way things used to be."
She couldn't take it anymore. She would not stand for having her heart broken anymore. Why was she chasing this dream with Vaughn? He was married, that was it. And here was Desmond right in front of her: cute and sweet. A bit mysterious at times, but altogether not bad.
If she was going to get through this mission, she had to try to give up on Vaughn, once and for all. It sounded right in her brain, but did her heart truly agree?
– – – – – – –
Sydney became extremely goal oriented for the next week or so. She worked hard in every rehearsal and sang her heart out at every chance. Her improvement was eminent to everyone. All of her focus went into her work, and she hardly thought about Vaughn.
…Until the Christmas party.
Many of the actors had gotten to know Dixon (as Aaron Lapeer) because of his security guard status. He decided to host a Christmas party in which he invited much of the cast, crew, and coworkers of the theater. This included all of the agents.
When Sydney arrived she was pleasantly surprised to find many people she knew. She spotted Marshall and a very pregnant Carrie in a corner chatting with Dixon's daughter as Kerri popped up to greet Sydney.
"Hey there! Merry Christmas," she said, giving her a hug. "Looks like you're stuck with me. Desmond's out east with his parents and Nick's with his son."
"Yeah, I know," Sydney added, cringing slightly as James Jones, who played Polly's father, gave her a peculiar smile as he passed her by. When he left, she asked, "Does he creep you out as much as he creeps me out?"
"Yeah, just a little bit," she giggled. "Come on, we need to get you a drink!" Kerri pulled her through the house, and Sydney flashed a quick smile at Marshall and Carrie before entering the kitchen. Inside she saw Jack and Dixon talking; they looked serious. They noticed Kerri and Sydney enter and the appearance on their faces softened. Dixon let out a hearty chuckle, pretending to be laughing at something Jack had said.
Kerri shoved a cup into Sydney's hand. She hoped they would leave, but Kerri took a seat at the table to Sydney's dismay. And it seemed that Dixon and her father were not leaving any time soon. Sydney sighed to herself and sat, praying Kerri would not say anything about Desmond. Luckily, before she could speak, Vaughn entered the room carrying a bottle of wine. He set it onto the table, his arm brushing against Sydney's back. Shivers tickled her body, but she told herself no, she could not let herself do this.
"Hello, Mr. Garth," Dixon greeted him. "Where's your wife?"
"Aaron, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Chris?" he grinned, taking off his coat. He wore a sleek black shirt and that pair of jeans that made his butt – No! She couldn't do it, she had to stop. "And I think Denise is in the living room talking with Becca Green."
"Whoa, Becca's here? Interacting with us not during a rehearsal?" Kerri asked in shock.
"I know, it's odd," Vaughn replied, turning his gaze to Sydney and Kerri. Sydney stared at his feet. "But she and her husband are here." He shrugged and helped himself to drink at the table and leaned casually against the wall.
Sydney's eyes turned to her cup. Why didn't he leave already? Didn't he want to go be with Lauren? She noticed Kerri eyeing her suspiciously, probably wondering why Sydney was glaring a hole into her cup. She quickly downed the alcohol, setting the empty glass on the table. She would have to act civil. And friendly. To everyone, including Vaughn and Lauren.
Would someone please say something and break the silence? It began to echo in Sydney's ears, a dull ringing reverberating throughout her mind. Jack cleared his throat. Well, it was start.
Finally, Dixon spoke. "So how goes the big Finale act? Opening Night is only about a month away."
"It's so much dancing!" Kerri exclaimed. "Wait, Damien Bruggman's not here, is he?" Dixon shook his head. "Okay, because he's insane."
"He just wants it perfect," Sydney added, "but sometimes he can be… a little over the top about it."
"She means he's psycho." Kerri winked at her.
"I think 'I Got Rhythm' is much more difficult," Vaughn said.
Sydney turned to face him. "You don't have a big singing solo there, either."
"Yeah, so I'm not a little sharp."
Sydney pretended to act hurt. "Ah! Well maybe you're a little off on your tap solo."
He simply laughed in reply. As Sydney's smile faded, she realized… Did she and Vaughn just flirt a little? No no no, that couldn't happen! But he even started it. What was wrong with the world? She wished she did not have to endure this severe mental torture.
Kerri was ignorant of her mental breakdown. "It's a lot longer that the Finale, that's for sure."
Eventually the party had all meandered back into the living room. Sydney mostly sat with Kerri, and someone would occasionally join them in conversation. She kept a careful eye on Vaughn, meanwhile. He never seemed to be with Lauren. Ever. Not once throughout the entire party did she see them talking, let alone standing together. Could there be something wrong? Another fight, perhaps?
Her lips curled into a slight smile, though it did not go unnoticed by Kerri. "What are you smiling about?" she asked, settling against the arm of the couch.
"Oh, I'm just thinking…" she trailed off. What about, what about? "About Desmond." Desmond. Hm…
Kerri smiled smugly. "Sophia Tamas, Got a ring to it, doesn't it?" Sydney rolled her eyes. "I mean, it doesn't sound as good as Kerri Wood, but Elijah just doesn't know he's meant for me yet."
Sydney and Kerri continued to laugh and chat with each other, still talking with others on occasion. Funny how Lauren never made her way around to them, huh? The next time Sydney glanced over at Vaughn he was walking towards the door. Lauren already had her coat on and waited impatiently for him. He opened the door and she turned abruptly and walked out at a brisk pace. And Vaughn slowly followed, closing the door behind him.
– – – – – – –
Rehearsals resumed on the twenty-sixth. The director had only allowed them two days off for Christmas, and he told them ahead of time that they wouldn't be getting any off for New Year's.
By New Year's Eve, many of the agents were stressed by the intel of the Black Russian, particularly as they struggled to collect audio evidence from the planted microphones.
After a lazy day of rehearsing non-dancing scenes, Damien Bruggman suddenly burst into a fit of rage. The majority of the cast was present, including Sydney, Vaughn, Lauren, and Weiss. "We have barely three weeks before opening night! Three weeks, people! Smith and Garth," he snapped, looking at Sydney. "The 'Embraceable You' scene is under-prepared. 'I Got Rhythm' and the Finale are garbage too. The remainder of our rehearsal time will go to the latter two numbers. You will work on Embraceable You in your spare time." In the harshness of his tone, many stood silent, merely blinking. "Forget it! Go home, you lackadaisical thespians."
Oddly, the director himself was the first off the stage despite the stampede of the cowboys and showgirls. Vaughn approached Sydney as the remaining others collected their belongings and slowly filed offstage. "Um… I think we should just get through with it tonight and not later."
"I agree," she concurred, but glanced over at Lauren buttoning her black tea coat.
Vaughn saw where her gaze landed. "I'll tell Lauren we'll be rehearsing a while. Why don't you take a quick break right now? Get some water, I'll meet you back here in a sec."
"Okay." She watched him walk over towards Lauren, however the angle of her eyes to his body blocked her from view, so she was unable to watch his wife's expression. Deciding to adhere to Vaughn's suggestion, she headed for her dressing room and grabbed two bottles of water for them. When she returned to the stage, she was alone with Vaughn.
"Ready?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.
Hmph, he looked so cute. No! Bad Sydney, bad… "Yeah. Where do we start this scene?"
"You are… stage right, and I'm approaching you from stage left." Sydney took her place, and Vaughn cleared his throat. "'Polly, ve have important talk now, yah?'" he asked, adopting a Hungarian accent as Bobby Child pretended to be Bela Zangler.
"'Sure. What's up?'" she replied smoothly with a slight southern accent.
"'I vould like to speak to you about Bobby Child.'"
She turned her back to him. "'Oh, him…'"
"'Polly, he has told me that he is… crazy for you.'"
Sydney turned back to face "Bobby/Zangler." She knew they were only acting, but he had such sincerity on his face. Did she look like that too? She wondered. "'Well, I can't help that. I'm already spoken for.'"
"'You are?'"
"'Yeah. In my heart, anyway.'"
"'It's that Lank person, yah?'" he roared angrily. "This is where the music starts right?" Sydney nodded. "Okay. 'I tell you, I don't like him! He is totally wrong for–'"
"'It isn't Lank.'"
"'Moose?'"
"'You just don't understand anything, do ya? Dozens of men would storm up, I'd have to lock my door / Somehow I couldn't warm up to one before/'"
Bobby was supposed to ignore Polly's singing, still guessing names. "'Pete? Sam?'"
"'What was it that controlled me/ What kept my love life lean/'"
"'Lank, Moose, Pete Sam,'" he counted on his fingers, turning more towards the non-existing audience.
"'My intuition told me you'd come on the scene/'"
He turned back to her in total shock. "'Me?'" Sydney couldn't help but laugh at his expression. "What?" he asked, breaking from character.
"Sorry, your face, you look so horrified," she attempted to stifle herself.
"Well… Bobby is horrified. Polly's supposed to fall in love with him, not Zangler."
Hm, he was right. "Okay. Let's keep going. 'Mister, listen to the rhythm of my heartbeat/'" she grabbed his hand, and pressed it to her heart, managing not to realize its proximity to… herself.
"'Uh oh.'"
"'And you'll know just what I mean/'"
"'Polly, you are making big mistake here.'"
"'Embrace me, my sweet embraceable you/'" She moved his hand from her chest and held it before her, now singing directly to him.
"You're off key. 'I think ve gotta talk about this.'"
"I'm not. 'Embrace me, you irreplaceable you/'"
"Just a little. 'This is not vhat I vas planning.'"
"'Just one look at you my heart grew tipsy in me/'" She lifted one of his hands and stroked the side of his head.
"'No no no no no!'" he urged.
She pushed him down on one knee. "'You and you alone bring out the gypsy in me/" She lifted one leg upon his thigh and swung her hips once provocatively.
"'That's because I'm Hungarian–'"
"'I love all the many charms about you/'"
"'You are making big joke now, yah?'"
"'Above all, I want my arms about you/'"
Sydney slowly pulled him back up so he stood closely to her body. "'Okay, it's not a joke.'"
"'Don't be a naughty baby / Come to Polly, come to Polly, do / My sweet embraceable you.'" By then, they had arranged themselves so Vaughn swayed behind Sydney with his arms wrapped around her stomach, hugging her to him. She soon turned around and they properly adjusted to a dancing position.
"'Now just imagine if I vas Bobby.'"
"'You dance even better than he does.'"
"'No, I don't think so.'"
They continued to dance, and Vaughn began to hum the music. His perfect intonation and rhythm lulled Sydney to a peaceful state. Here she was, all alone in the theater, dancing with Vaughn. But that's when the realization struck. They still had to perform a stage kiss. It was obvious they both had been stalling on it. When would it finally happen?
Sydney had hoped they could perhaps ignore it until opening night, when it would just… happen? She knew that would never work. And something had to be practiced. No, no, she couldn't do it. She couldn't bear the torture of kisses here, kisses there, all meaningless stage kisses. However, that was exactly what she wanted and did not want at the same time: their meaninglessness.
She felt his warm, comforting hand gripping hers, holding it gently as he hummed. He was nearing the end of the musical interlude. Why? Why, oh why couldn't they stay and dance like this forever?
They danced their way to center stage, where they came to a stop but held their position. "'In your arms I find love so delectable, dear/'" She grabbed one of his hands and stepped in front of him, facing the audience. She dragged it down her side slowly, his fingers lightly brushing her breast. "'I'm afraid it isn't quite respectable, dear / But hang it! Come on, let's glorify love/ Ding dang it! You'll shout "Encore!" if I love/'" She reluctantly separated from him and wandered stage right. "'Don't be a naughty baby / Come to Polly, come to Polly, do…'" She lifted her eyes to his. They met, and they edged toward each other.
Their outstretched arms met, and he pulled her to him. Together, they sang, "'My sweet embraceable…'"
Sydney's eyes never faltered from his. "And this is the part where we… kiss…"
"Yeah."
Suddenly before she knew it, his head was leaning in towards hers; their lips met together softly at first, then grew more hungry. Sydney's head was swirling, was this really happening? Was she really kissing Vaughn?
At a loss for breath, both parties pulled away, their heads lingering closely together. "I…" Dear God, what was she going to say? That was not a stage kiss; that was the farthest thing from a stage kiss. If anything, it was the most real experience she had had since two years ago. "Have to go now." She backed away from his arms, confusion bubbling over like a frothing cauldron. She turned sharply and briskly walked back to her dressing room to fetch her coat.
What the hell was she going to do?
She was going to go to the New Year's party at Weiss's apartment. And she was going to pretend like nothing happened. And she was going to lick his taste on her lips all night long.
A/n: Ah, sweet revenge. Revenge on what, I have not a clue. Revenge is just a fun word. Revenge. Mwahaha. Now say it aloud with a deep, dark voice. Now laugh evilly. I seriously hope someone walked by and called you weird while you just did that. Hm. Did you not LOVE this chapter? Please review! And for their choreography during the song I used the stuff from when my school did this musical last year.
