Chapter 9: But Not For Me
A/n: Hey guys, thanks a bunch for your reviews! Enjoy Chapter 9!
It started off so swell, this "let's pretend." It all began so well, but what an end! The climax of a plot should be the marriage knot, but there's no knot for me.
Two weeks of nearly perfect performances passed by rapidly for everyone, agents and actors alike. For Sydney, that was another two weeks of real kisses, very few mistakes, and lot of remembering that flat in 'I Got Rhythm.' For everyone, that was two weeks of working under full houses or near full houses, which surprised Sydney considering it was off Broadway.
It was now the beginning of the last week of shows. Just to make sure no one got rusty over a few days' break, Damien Bruggman suggested that everyone come in and lightly run through some dance numbers. And with only a suggestion, about half of the cast showed up to "work."
Sydney and Vaughn were among them, so was Carrie Flinkman. The three stood backstage working on a microphone problem Vaughn had come across during the last performance. Sydney stood uncomfortably next to Vaughn, who was focused on Carrie fiddling away with the wires.
It was hard for Sydney to remember, for some reason, that Vaughn didn't know about her escapades with Desmond. Should he know? Would he think that Sydney was moving on for good? Would he stop kissing her so wonderfully each night? Yet there was only one more week left…
Suddenly Carrie dropped her pliers and the microphones, grabbing her stomach and bending over slightly. "Marie," Sydney asked, remembering to use her alias, "are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Sophia," she snapped back in obvious pain. "It's just these damn contractions."
Vaughn furrowed his brow at her. "Um, do we need to get you to a hospital?"
"No, no, they're just Braxton Hicks, I've been having them for a few months now. Don't worry about it." She smiled, picking up the wires again and inspecting them more closely as she straightened. Sydney sighed to herself, watching Vaughn as he stared at Carrie with concern. And before Sydney– or Carrie, really– knew it, there was a puddle beneath Carrie's feet. Her face contorted. "That would be my water breaking."
At first, they all were silent and still, their minds abruptly running blank. Then Vaughn's eyes widened once the idea settled in. "Okay, a hospital it is. Sy- Sophia, why don't you go get our coats, I'll start walking her out to the door."
Sydney nodded eagerly and hurriedly collected their coats. As she hustled to the door, she bumped into her father. "There's a wet spot backstage," she warned to him before reaching the door, where Carrie had stopped in another contraction. "Breathe, breathe," she reminded her while Vaughn hailed a taxi.
"Call Marshall," Carrie gritted through her teeth. Sydney tugged at her arm and led her into the backseat of the yellow car.
Vaughn sat up front next to the driver and whipped out his cell phone. "Is he at home?"
"No, Philadelphia."
Vaughn turned back and glance at Sydney; she shrugged. His eyes widened like before. "Why?" he asked slowly, observably confused why he would leave his nine-month-pregnant wife who was ready to pop at any given moment.
"Because the CIA… "she looked at the taxi driver and deemed him unsuitable for such knowledge. "They needed him there for computer stuff, he's the only one who knows the system- Ah!" She squeezed Sydney's hand.
Through the ride. Vaughn kept trying Marshall's cell phone while Sydney tried to calm Carrie. "Can we get there just a little faster?" Carrie asked the driver. "Maybe? JUST A LITTLE FASTER?"
Sydney tried to calm her more, to little avail. "Don't worry, ma'am, I've delivered two babies in my taxi, both very healthy little girls."
Carrie grunted loudly in the midst of a contraction. "Somehow I don't think that's what she wanted to hear," Vaughn commented.
A few contractions later, they arrived at the hospital with the baby still in Carrie's uterus. Unfortunately, Vaughn was unable to reach Marshall. He kept calling, but Marshall never answered. Sydney helped Carrie get a room and settled in her bed. Vaughn angrily punched the numbers on the phone. "Carrie, he's just not answering his phone."
"Well then leave a damn voicemail!"
He held the phone to his ear. "Okay, sh… Hey, Marshall, it's Vaughn, your wife's gone into labor, and–"
Carrie snatched the phone from his hand. "Marshall Flinkman, you get the hell over here!" she screamed into the phone, holding it upside-down in her palm.
Vaughn grabbed his phone back. "Hurry… Please hurry."
After a while, Carrie begged for an epidural and eventually fell asleep. That was when Sydney and Vaughn sagged into two visitor chairs nearby Carrie's bed, and Sydney finally had a moment to think. She and Vaughn, together at the hospital with Carrie. This certainly wasn't anything she had planned, but she was glad that it was Vaughn she was with. He was smart, and he could work under the pressure of a woman in labor. However, part of her wished it wasn't him. It brought her back to Desmond, which brought her back to her confusion…
Vaughn rubbed his eyes. "How many centimeters did the nurse say she was dilated?" he whispered.
"Five," she whispered back.
He glanced at Carrie sleeping. "Come on, let's get out of here and let her sleep." Sydney nodded and followed him out of the room into the slightly noisier hallway. At first, they wandered slowly, unsure of what to do. How long had it been since they were just together hanging out? Sydney thought back to Thanksgiving when he came over after Lauren's fight.
"So," Vaughn began, breaking the comfortable silence, "can you believe there's only one more week of the musical?"
"No, it's gone by so quickly." She checked around the hallway for anyone, it was clear. "How many names have we collected so far?"
"At least twelve, maybe more. The planted microphones really helped. The last show… We're going to get them." Sydney nodded confidently. She wanted to go back to LA, get away from Desmond, get away from the new confusion created here. "You've, uh, been doing a fantastic job as Polly."
"Only because you're such a great Bobby," she smiled back at him. They stopped walking for a moment, simply smiling. But their smiles faded eventually, and they stood frozen in the middle of a hospital hallway. "It's been a while since we've talked," she admitted. "I mean, really talked." He didn't respond, and she found him studying wall behind her intently. "How are you?" she asked with solemnity.
He laughed lightly in response. "I've been better." His eyes darted from the wall to Sydney a few times before landing on Sydney. "Lauren and I have been fighting a lot lately."
"Is it…" She paused, refraining herself from finishing the question. Was it her? Was she the cause of their fights, like at Thanksgiving?
Vaughn seemed to understand what she wanted to ask anyway. "Sometimes," he answered quietly. "It's anything, really. But we're… We're working on it." An awkward pause settled in. Sydney couldn't determine her feelings on his news. "How are you?" he finally asked, noticing the awkwardness settling in.
Now Sydney laughed weakly. Where should she start? The misery, pain, confusion? How she was still in love with Vaughn? How she wanted to give up on him and at the same time try to win him back? "I slept with Desmond."
"You what?"
Shit. Oh shit. No, that was not supposed to happen! Did she really just tell him? "I… I slept with him." He had to know it wasn't because she had feelings for him; she didn't. He had to know the truth. He had to know she planted a tracker on his lap top…
He was stoic. "When?"
"After opening night." Vaughn looked sickened. "Vaughn, listen, it wasn't–"
"This was because Dixon told you to get closer? Don't you think that might be taking it a little far?"
She stared at him aghast. "Who are you to tell me how I should work? I think I know how to handle myself when Dixon gives me assignments."
"But that wasn't an assignment."
"And what if it was? What would you say then?"
"I'd say it was too dangerous, hell, he could be the Black Russian!"
She shook her head, wanting to laugh at him. "That wasn't the point…"
"No," he continued. "This… I…"
"Listen," she tried again, "in the morning I–"
"I don't want to hear what you did in the damn morning! What were you thinking? Desmond Tamas?"
He didn't understand, and it was evident that he didn't want to know. She stared back at him, fuming. "I was thinking maybe I could get a good one night stand!" she replied harshly, storming off into a series of hallways away from him. She marched down the hallway, a sour taste forming at her lips. If he did not want to listen to what she had to say, then she was not going to stay and talk to him.
He could have at least let her explain! He could have been understanding about it. But no. Obviously he didn't care about the truth. She didn't need him, she didn't want him. Dammit, why couldn't she stop loving him?
She made her way down an unfamiliar hall, finding herself outside the nursery. Her cheeks stung as she held back tears; she stared at the newborn faces behind the glass. She lifted her fingers to the barrier and peered inside. All this new, young life, problem and care free, no badness or dark places yet, all they knew was good and innocence…
They were all so calm, it soothed Sydney in her pain. So she slept with Desmond, and Vaughn knew. Vaughn and Lauren were having problems that they were working out. And there was only a week left before they returned to Los Angeles. Sydney sorted through everything in her head. Nothing made sense, she didn't know what she wanted anymore. She wished she had her old apartment, and that she could talk with Francie and Will and not have to worry about anything, or anyone, related to the CIA.
She felt him walk up next to her, yet they didn't acknowledge each other. It reminded her of the old days, when they met in public. Before SD-6 fell, before they kissed in its rubble, before she was taken for two years…
He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry for earlier… It's your life, and you know what you're doing. And… I'm glad you're moving on."
Sydney sighed. She wished he didn't have to think that. She wished he could know everything in immaculate detail how she felt: disgusted with herself, regretful, how it was Vaughn she longed for…
"I planted a device on his computer," she whispered to the babies. "If he is related to Omega, his computer will tell us."
"Syd." He turned to face her, and she reluctantly followed suit. She half-expected him to kiss her right there, she couldn't fight her lips lifting up… But Vaughn remained still. "I'm really sorry. I don't mean to be an ass, I know you can defend yourself and take anyone down, myself included." She chuckled. "But I just get worried. If you can't already tell, I don't really like Desmond."
She studied his furrowed brow; two deep ravines parallel to his hairline, wrinkling into streams flowing to his temples. His words reverberated through her mind. And the more she contemplated, a smile curled at her lips. "You know what? I don't really like him either." Her smile continued to grow until an effluence of laughter spilled into the hallway. At witnessing her sudden delight, he couldn't help but join in the outburst, and he draped his arm around her back as they walked back towards Carrie's room.
Unfortunately, upon arrival Carrie had woken, and they were bombarded with frustrated screams and cries of discomfort. So they felt it was best to wait outside. Sydney felt a new ease slip between them as their conversation perpetuated. Their relaxed state was something Sydney had missed dearly, but a chagrin grew deep in her mind. When they returned to LA would they be friends? She'd have to move on.
Could she do that? Could she be his friend, see him everyday, forget the feelings they once shared and move on? Maybe the reason she couldn't move on from him was because of that- seeing him every day and being reminded of what she lost. It had been five months since her return. Five! And still her heart argued with her brain.
She decided she'd wait until they got home; if she could move on despite their marriage, then great, but if incapability reigned supreme, then she would request a transfer. A transfer, she squirmed at the sound. But if that was what it took to be truly happy again… She was willing to go all out.
"Maybe one of us should go check on Carrie… I mean, we really shouldn't leave her all alone through this, even though she shrieked 'get out' at the top of her lungs."
"I'll go," Sydney volunteered.
"Good, because I think she's plotting to dismember any man she sees now that her epidural has worn off…"
Sydney rose from her seat, her feet tingling as the blood flowed back through her veins. Gingerly, she nudged the door open. "Carrie?" she asked calmly, stepping inside. "How are you feeling?"
She pressed her head harder against the pillow as Sydney approached the bed. "Like a constipated manatee. You?" She grabbed for Sydney's hand as another contraction started. Luckily for Sydney's hand, it was short, and Carrie quickly relaxed back into the bed. "Do you think Marshall will get here soon? He was supposed to come back today. I'll kill him if he misses this."
"He'll get here. You know him, he's probably called the hospital and downloaded all your stats into his computer."
Sydney was relieved when Carrie finally smiled. "Okay. You can bring Vaughn in here, I won't hurt him."
Sydney retrieved Vaughn (who sheepishly stayed in one of the seats out of Carrie's reach) and they commenced their chatter. Sydney helped Carrie through the occasional contraction, but eventually "it was time" and the pair was booted from the room. They had been outside the room for a few minutes when Marshall came running down the hall.
"Sydney, Vaughn, oh I'm so glad you're here! See, I went to the wrong hospital at first, and I was like, 'Where's Carrie?' and they said she wasn't there, so I said, 'What do you mean she's not here? Was is a false alarm, d-did she have the baby and leave?'"
"Marshall!"
"Right, where is she?"
Vaughn elbowed the door open and Marshall rushed inside. They could hear the wails of a tiny newborn infant waft through the air as the door swung to a close. Vaughn raised his eyebrows to Sydney, and they both leaned in and pressed their eyes to the rectangular glass window in the door.
His shoulder pressed against her back, but for once, she didn't notice. A small, blue bundle occupied her vision; Carrie held him so tenderly in her arms, staring down at him with tears in her eyes. Marshall stood with one arm clinging around his wife's shoulders, his other outstretched to stroke his son's cheek with one finger.
Sydney glanced up at Vaughn; she could see the longing in his eyes. She knew that had Vaughn glanced down at herself he would spy the same thing. The truth was, Sydney wanted precisely what the Flinkmans had in the room before her, but she wanted it with Vaughn. And she knew she could have it only with Vaughn.
A/n: I know this chapter was kind of short, but there was tons of randomness I deleted. I wish this was a DVD and I could add special features with like deleted scenes and behind the scenes extras. Yeah, I think about weird stuff like that. Hey, guess what: there's only three more chapters left! I know. Eeek, what's going to happen? (Bottom line: I know, you don't. Mwahaha!)
