A/N: Thanks to charlotte, lec, pigeonofdoom, Jackie, TheUptownGirl, arco iris, tine, LaFilmeMichelle, Fair Cate, and Aliasa. I'm seriously running out of words to describe such reviewing awesomeness. And as for calling him Michael, I will do that from time to time because that is, after all, his name. But it felt weird writing it too, hehe. Oh, and if the title changes it's because the song title I used as the story title really doesn't fit any more with my recent plot change epiphany, so sorry if that's confusing. And the whole "this will be the last chapter of description" thing from before, well, again, bear with me.

DATABASE SEARCH: SYDNEY BRISTOW

Michael's hand hovered over the mouse, finger resting across the clicker. All he had to do was push his finger down ever so slightly and the computer would, in a manner of seconds, pull up her file and maybe he could put himself at ease. Now all he needed to do was convince himself that there was nothing wrong with what he was about to do. That was the part that was taking the longest.

"Hey." Eric said from behind him and Michael clicked off the screen quickly.

"Um, hey." Michael replied casually, turning around in his chair, hoping that Eric hadn't seen what he'd been up to.

"So, are you going to tell me what you're doing or are we going to sit here in uncomfortable silence until one of us cracks?"

Michael frowned, knowing he'd have to spill eventually, "While I was gone, did Sydney seem a little…well, funny, I guess?"

"Funny like 'ha ha' or funny like you're being right now?" He asked, pulling up a nearby chair.

"Funny like out of the ordinary, odd. Just not…Sydney-like."

Eric shook his head, "I don't know, it's hard to tell with her sometimes. Why, what's wrong? You look worried about something."

Now it was Michael's turn to shake his head, "Probably not, but-" He shrugged, "I think I'm just being paranoid."

"No problem, paranoia comes with the job." Eric said, patting Michael on the shoulder, "Come on, we've got to get to the meeting."

He got up and headed towards the office, leaving Michael behind looking at the blank screen on the computer for a moment before he got up and followed him in.

------

There was light chatting in the room as everyone settled in and waited for Arvin and Jack to come. Michael found Sydney and took the chair next to her as she tapped her pen on the desk.

"Sleep well?" He greeted and, when no response came, cleared his throat.

Sydney started in surprise, "Hmm, sorry, what was that?"

"I was asking you if you slept well, but I think I know the answer now." He answered with an amused smile.

Sydney grimaced and then glanced around, the corners of her lips barely turning upward as she whispered over, "Is it that obvious?"

"No, don't worry. I'll vouch for you if you can't stay awake." He offered, grinning

"Ha ha, very funny." She muttered and rubbed the corners of her eyes with her fingers, "I think I'm going to need an IV of coffee if they expect me to stay awake all day."

"Maybe Marshall will whip one up for you if you ask nicely." He lightheartedly suggested and they both sat quietly for a moment, listening to the buzz of other voices before Michael decided to venture, "Hey, Sydney, is there anything-"

At that moment Arvin and Jack came in followed by another man, cutting off the chatter. Michael caught a curious glance from Sydney out of the corner of his eye and waved it off, mouthing something he hoped looked like never mind.

The screen at the front of the room clicked on, showing a middle aged man with prematurely graying hair. As Michael read the brief stats on the side, he could see why. For someone who had a criminal record as long as he did, it was a miracle he looked as healthy as he did.

"Mr. Emil Portner." Arvin explained as he stepped to the front of the room and paused momentarily before continuing, "Former freelance smuggler turned hit man, he has been a thorn in the side of the CIA for too many years now. Our sources have also given us reason to believe that he may actively be opening business connections again for unknown purposes. Thanks to the intel gathered off the CD last night, however, we believe we may have found a way to locate him before he becomes an even greater hazard to the country.

"According to the information we extracted, one of Portner's close contacts can be found here: The Art Institute of Chicago." The screen flashed and a picture of an almost temple like museum came up with more statistics as Arvin continued, "Mr. Liam Quinlin has been teaching at the art school there for roughly four years and co-managing for two now and frequents the museum itself often after class hours. We know he was one associated with Portner before being captured and pardoned by the government but we suspect he may be concealing something for his partner again."

Arvin turned to face them all, "We need to interrogate Quinlin who, since his release and duty fulfilled, has been very unhelpful in the locating of other criminals. Unfortunately, if we bring him in to headquarters, Portner may suspect we are digging for information on him. Sydney, you and Vaughn will be working undercover ops, first, for Sydney to befriend Quinlin, and then for both of you to access his underground facility where he may have something of Portner's. Eric and Dixon, you will be on op-tech with Agent Stroud and Marshall, who will both be stationed here." He said, nodding to the man who had followed them in and was now sitting in the corner, who nodded back, "He is from the Directorate of Intelligence and the mission head. Any questions during the mission should be sent directly to him."

"The plane leaves in an hour. Marshall will set you up with the necessary equipment. Agent Stroud has a few words to say before we dismiss." Arvin finished and then sat down as the man stood up.

Agent Stroud was tall with what would be called chiseled facial features and as soon as he spoke, Michael glanced at Sydney who raised her eyebrows curiously. It was clear he was quite used to being respected and expected no less there.

"As Arvin has made clear, it is of up most importance the CIA finds whatever object or information Quinlin may be concealing. This should be a two day, in and out mission. Any problems and the CIA has promised they will become more… involved. At this point, that is something we would all wish to avoid."

Arvin nodded and stood again, passing out the mission binders, "Dismissed. Sydney, please stay for just a moment."

Sydney frowned, questioningly, but stayed seated, turning to Michael and nudged her briefcase with her foot lightly, "Vaughn, would you mind dropping this off on my desk?" Glancing over at Sloane and Agent Stroud she grimaced, "I don't think I'm going to have time to before we have to go. Oh, and watch out for the one latch, it pops sometimes."

"No problem." Picking up the bag, he squeezed her hand with his free one and left the room.

------

The room was humming with activity as Michael turned the corner to the office. Nodding to other agents as he passed, he didn't notice as the briefcase bumped up against her desk. With a click, the lid popped open, sending a flurry of manila folders, a binder, and various other things at the floor by her chair.

"Good job." Eric complimented with an amused smirk, "That definitely deserves a nine point five, if not a ten even."

Michael swore and stooped down, picking up the folders and stacking them back in a neat order, "Ha ha."

Eric smiled and began to help and quickly, he moved on to picking up the loose items when suddenly his hand stopped on something.

"Uh, Michael…"

"Yeah?" He asked, sliding papers back into one of the piled folders. It was amazing how much stuff she'd managed to cram into that little briefcase. No wonder the latch didn't work.

There was a longer pause instead of an answer.

Michael looked up curiously, "What?" He eyes moved down to what Eric was holding in his hand, "What is it?"

"I think I know why Sydney's been so moody lately…"