A/N: Just as warning, there is lots of swearing in this chapter. I got a little swearing happy. And yes, the first part of this chapter really is in Lauren's POV. Seriously...if you don't like it, just don't tell me. It adds to the story's plot. Tis a good thing.

Lauren's POV

I have never truly hated anyone. I can't think of a single person that I have ever hated with a passion or not. I didn't hate my superior at the Covenant when he told me that I had to seduce and marry a CIA agent. I didn't hate Michael when I realized that he would never love anyone besides that Bristow woman. I didn't hate Sydney Bristow when she came back from the dead and almost ruined my marriage. I didn't hate Michael when I found out that he and Sydney had an affair and she got pregnant as a result of it.

I didn't see any reason to hate either one of them. It's not like I married Michael for love or anything. My marriage to him was an order from my superior. Nothing more. And that was how I intended to keep it.

That is, until I made the stupid mistake of letting jealously take over me and I messed up. I knew the CIA was on another of their mole hunts but I thought since I survived the last three, I was safe. Fuck was I wrong.

I don't know what came over me. But one night as I lie awake, I couldn't stop thinking about the picture Sydney sent Michael of her and the twins –I can't believe that woman had to go and have twins- and I just snapped. I would never have that. Children, that is. I've wanted children (with Michael or not, that didn't really matter to me) since I can remember. But when I was sixteen, the doctors told me that I would never be able to have children. Why, they never exactly found out. I just couldn't and when that woman announced that she was pregnant with my husband's child, I was jealous.

For the next twelve hours, I couldn't get that Goddamn picture out of my mind until finally I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted the bitch dead. And soon.

That's when I made the fatal mistake of contacting one of the Covenant's assassins on my CIA account at work in the middle of the day. Normally, personnel's accounts weren't so closely monitored but like I said, the CIA was on a mole hunt. However, I wasn't able to ever seal the deal.

A half hour later, I was detained and on my way to federal prison for three years.

Sydney and her damned twins were still alive and Michael was suddenly the pity of the CIA. They both made me sick.

I've had three years to do very little but go over my fatal mistake and all that led up to it. I don't know what made me give into jealously and try to have Sydney killed. It made no sense to me at all. Everything was going according to plan. Michael had perfectly set himself up to allow me to finally bring that divorce against him and get me out of that hell. But I backed out at the last second.

I had the papers all ready to go, all I needed was his damn signature and I was a free woman once again. But that bitch had to send that stupid photograph and I choked. I saw her with her twins and all the bitterness from my own lack of children came back for a visit and I couldn't do it. I couldn't hand him the papers though that night probably would have been my best chance to do so.

But I didn't and I paid dearly for it.

A couple hours ago, I was brought in front of a judge for my final sentencing hearing. Three fucking years and they still couldn't fully decide what to do with me. But finally, they came to their conclusion and they gave the worst they could.

Death by lethal injection.

They set the date at July 21st, a little more than seven months from now.

Fucking wonderful.

Though one perk of being out in the world (in a sense) again, is hearing all the gossip of the pitiful CIA workers around the water cooler. At first, I only caught bits and pieces of what was said and my fist impression was they were still talking about my shame of a marriage to Michael that is until I heard the words "Sydney Bristow" and I froze. As it turns out, Michael went to some hick town that Sydney had run off to try and convince her to come back with him to L.A.

I had to laugh when I heard that. I can't believe that it took him almost three years to go after the little bitch. Was he just stupid or did I really shake him up that badly? That would give me a kind of satisfaction knowing that I messed up that man so badly that he couldn't even go after the woman who gave birth to his children immediately after I was thrown in prison. I might be more fucked in the head than I thought but as I have about seven months to live; I don't give a shit.

Knowing Michael and his persuasiveness and Sydney's chronic inability to say no to the man after his stubborn pushing, they will end up coming back to L.A. with their perfect little twins in tow.

And then I get to have some real fun.

Vaughn's POV

"Mommy!"

I groaned and tightened my arms around…someone. Wait a minute. Did I just hear a little girl yell 'Mommy' and who the hell am I snuggled up next to? I opened one eye, only to be blinded by sunlight coming from a window and let's just say, my eye didn't stay open long after that.

Okay, try number two because I'm really confused at the moment. I opened both eyes and immediately relaxed. It was just Sydney I was holding.

Wait…Sydney? How did that happen?

Oh shit! How could I forget about last night? How the hell could I forget about Sydney agreeing to giving us a second chance and then asking me to accompany her and our twins on a Disney cruise to…somewhere (I'll ask later)?

"Mommy!" Anya yelled again. From the sound of it, she was still in her room. That's probably best. I don't want her or Chris to walk in on me and Sydney spooning on the couch. That would be hard to explain.

Sydney mumbled something in her sleep but didn't wake up. She never was a morning person when she didn't have to get up. Carefully, I sat up and untangled my arms from her, doing my best not to wake her. She didn't wake. Thank God. Though, why am I going to see what Anya wants instead of waking Sydney up? Fatherly instincts? Let's go with that.

Though, I'm not entirely sure that Anya and Chris know that I'm their father. By the sound of the conversation we had yesterday, I wouldn't put money on it. Okay then…we'll leave that one for their mother to explain. And that'll be when she wakes up…whenever that is.

I pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over Sydney's sleeping form. I watched her sleep for a moment before kissing her forehead and going to see what Anya wanted.

I knocked on the twins' door and both of them replied with, "Come in!" I thought only Anya was awake. So Chris is quiet a lot of the time apparently. That's good to know.

I opened the door and was greeted with two loud "Vaughn!"s and instantly was attacked by two four year olds. Well, maybe not attacked per say, but they both have a very firm grip when they hug you.

"Shh…Mommy's sleeping," I told them in a loud whisper sounding very fatherly. Maybe this father business just comes naturally.

"Sorry," They said in the same loud whisper at the same time. I think twins have a sort of psychic link. I knew a pair of twins back in my college hockey days. Damn, they were near impossible to beat because they always knew what the other was going to do. I lost a great many games to those twins.

"What do you need, Anya?" I asked, following the twins back into their room. Chris went back to his Legos –are four year olds allowed to have Legos? Isn't that dangerous?- while Anya plopped on her bed.

"I'm hungry," She responded.

I laughed softly. "Do you want something to eat?" She nodded happily. "What?"

"Um…" She started to contemplate. "Pancakes?"

Little did she know that pancakes were my specialty, at least, in the breakfast food group. "I could do that." I replied casually.

"Really?" Anya asked excitedly.

"Really," I confirmed. "So you want pancakes too, Chris?" I asked turning to him.

Chris nodded. "Yeah."

"Alright. Let's go make pancakes."

Sydney's POV

The smell of something cooking woke me. For about a half of a second when sleep still had a hold on my mind, I thought that it was six and a half years ago and Francie was in the kitchen making breakfast and my life wasn't so complicated.

Then reality hit and I realized that Francie was dead, I had two children, and their father who I recently decided to reconcile with was here and I sat up pretty quickly. Not a really good idea, I got a head rush but that didn't bother me long. Who was cooking something? Oh God, please tell me the twins didn't decide they wanted to cook something. I would like to keep my house. I worked hard for it.

I threw the blanket that I didn't remember from last night –Vaughn probably put it there- off and stood up quickly, pausing only to stretch my sore arms. Sleeping on the couch was not one of my brighter ideas and my muscles agreed whole heartedly.

I heard Anya giggling in the kitchen –that didn't calm my nerves any- and Chris laughing about something as well. What the hell did those two do now? And where the hell is Vaughn? Did he just decide to leave or something? I didn't like the fact that I didn't hear or see him.

"Anya, don't touch the stove," Vaughn ordered. Alright, that solves two problems. Vaughn is still here and in the kitchen, meaning he's the one making breakfast and not the twins. Now, what am I going to tell the twins?

Definitely have to tell them that Vaughn is their father, and that he's coming with us on the cruise that we leave for today. Thank God for my decision to pack early, or else I would be a nervous wreck right about now. We had a few hours before we had to think about going to the airport, so I didn't worry about that. I did, however, worry about how I was going to tell them that Vaughn was their father. Maybe they already figured it out and saved me from a very awkward conversation. That would be nice and completely unrealistic.

"Why?" Anya asked back. I lounged in the doorway watching the trio. Chris and Anya were standing about two inches behind Vaughn at the stove and none of them noticed that I was suddenly in the room. I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Why would you want to touch the stove? It's hot.

"You might burn yourself," Vaughn answered, patiently. I have to give him props. He's really good at the parental thing.

"Oh yeah," Anya replied like it had suddenly dawned on her that the stove was hot. I was pretty sure that was a show. She was one smart girl, and she knew the stove would burn her. She figured that out two years ago after the boiling water incident where she got a third degree burn when she slipped under my watch and tipped a small pot of boiling water on her arm.

I shuddered just at the memory of the incident and cleared my throat. "Good morning."

All three of them turned around to face me. Anya and Chris abandoned their post from right behind Vaughn and ran to hug my legs like they did every morning. "Mommy!" They chorused. "Vaughn's making pancakes!"

"Is he now?" I asked, sounding interested. I looked to Vaughn who shrugged and gestured at the pan in front of him with the spatula in his hand. "Well, you two are in for a special treat then."

"We are?" They asked. I've found that twins have a sort of psychic link with each other. Or maybe just my twins do. Either way, it was creepy at times. "How?"

"Vaughn makes excellent pancakes," I answered. I had found that out in the two months I shared with Vaughn after the Alliance collapsed. Breakfast in bed had been a regular practice during those days. God I missed that.

"He does!?" Anya asked excitedly. I started to get the feeling she was only putting on this show for Vaughn because she figured out that he was her father. That would be more Anya like. Now what about Chris?

"Yes, he does." I answered, smiling.

Anya grinned impishly and turned around to face Vaughn. "Make those pancakes faster. I'm hungry." She ordered in her cute childish way.

I laughed and rumpled her hair, "Patience, Anya. We've been over this."

She pushed my hand away –she absolutely despised me messing up her hair- and pushed out her bottom lip. "But I'm really hungry."

"Me too," Chris piped up.

I laughed and shook my head warily. "They'll be ready when they're ready." I said firmly. "Now does Vaughn have an estimate of when they'll be ready?"

"Whenever I find a plate or four to put them on," Vaughn answered, turning the stove off.

"Top cupboard to your left," I replied, pushing Anya and Chris towards the kitchen table. They went and sat down as I went to help Vaughn get stuff on the table for dinner. We worked in silence and without ever once running into each other. That was another thing that came from our two months together.

Finally we got the plates, glasses with orange juice, butter, syrup, and silverware on the table and Vaughn and I were finally able to sit down. I got Chris's pancake, poured on the syrup and cut up some of it for him while Vaughn did the same for Anya though she demanded butter on hers.

"Syd, where's the cinnamon?" Vaughn asked, making the move to get up to get fetch it.

"I'll get it," I replied, getting up and going for it before he could protest. I had forgotten that Vaughn loved his pancake with cinnamon on it. Though I had to admit, it was good. I grabbed the cinnamon container and set it on the table by Vaughn, pausing to rest my hand on his shoulder for a second.

He noticed it and reached up and squeezed my hand reassuringly. I smiled and sat back down. He had noticed that I was planning on telling the twins the truth about him without me even saying anything related to the topic. I loved that about him.

"Why are you putting cinnamon on your pancake?" Anya inquired, after swallowing a huge bite of her own pancake.

"Because it tastes good," Vaughn answered. Yeah, he was definitely better at the parental thing. It had taken my awhile to get used to it. Vaughn seemed like a natural. "Want to try it?"

Anya studied the cinnamon before shaking her head.

"I do," Chris piped up.

Vaughn smiled and handed the cinnamon container to me and I sprinkled some on Chris's pancake. He chewed it thoughtfully before grinning and swallowing –he apparently remembered the conversation yesterday at lunch- quickly. "It really is good." He admonished. "You should try it, Anya."

"I don't want to try it," Anya snapped angrily. I sighed inwardly. After four years, I was used to my daughter's sudden mood changes. Vaughn, however, was not, and he looked confused.

"Anya…" I started, warily. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Anya replied moodily. Her teenage years were going to be a royal pain in my ass if she stayed temperamental like this.

"Then apologize to your brother for snapping at him."

Anya sighed and looked at Chris. "Sorry," She mumbled before going back to her food.

I gave Chris a look and he sighed as well and mumbled, "You're forgiven, Anya." I swear, just because they're twins, they think that they don't ever have to apologize to each other. While they probably don't, if I don't install the need for them to apologize to people now, they'll never learn it. And that would probably mean a crapload of principal calls in the future.

Vaughn glanced at me, silently asking me what the hell that was all about. All I could do was shrug and start to eat my own pancake. Ten minutes and six moody sighs from Anya later, I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted to know what the hell got into that girl. "Anya. What is the matter?"

"Nothing," She mumbled.

"Don't give me 'nothing', young lady." I commanded. Oh shit, did I just say 'young lady'? My father used to say that to me when I was younger. That means I'm turning into my father. Shit.

Anya put her fork down and looked up at me placidly. "Vaughn's our father, isn't he?" She asked, simply.

Well, this was it. I could lie to her and say no but that would come back to bite me in the ass if I did that. Besides, Chris heard Anya's every word and was now looking at me expectantly. I don't think he figured it out like Anya had but he probably had a strong suspicion about Vaughn's true identity.

"Yes, he is." I answered, simply.

Chris smiled happily. My confirmation had obviously made him happy. Well, that's one down. Anya nodded slowly and looked at her plate before looking back up and glancing between me and Vaughn. "I thought he left us because he couldn't handle being a father," She said seriously.

"What?" Vaughn asked.

Oh God…was this whole thing about the lie I told people when they asked why the twins' father wasn't around? Now it's making much more sense. Since she'd figured it out, Anya had thought that Vaughn was a mean person who left her mommy because he couldn't handle fatherly duties. No wonder she got moody all of the sudden.

And Vaughn…oh shit, he heard all that. Maybe I should've told him about the little white lie beforehand. Oh well, too late now. Now for some damage control.

"No, Anya, he didn't leave us," I replied.

Anya's eyes narrowed. "So you lied?"

I nodded slowly and reluctantly. "Yes."

Anya was silent for a long time before she pushed her chair back from the table and ran from the room.

Shit.