Massage

Summary: Vaughn gives Sydney a massage, and soon they both realize that the topic of discussion is very different from what it seems. Set somewhere in the first few episodes of season four.

"Ouch."

"Sure you're all right, Syd?"

Sydney straightened her back, wincing as she did so. "Yeah, I'm fine." Vaughn continued to look unconvinced, and finally Sydney gave in. "During that fight in West Siberia, the son of a bitch almost threw me off the roof. I think I pulled my left shoulder while hanging onto the ledge, and it's hurting quite a bit."

"Have you been to medical services?" Vaughn asked in concern.

Syd smiled. "It's nothing serious," she assured him. "It's just a minor muscle strain, as far as I can tell."

"Let me see." Gently, Vaughn unbuttoned the top few buttons of her blouse to reveal the offending shoulder. "It doesn't look that bad. Did you stretch beforehand?"

The brunette raised her eyebrows, and Vaughn pulled a face in response. "Yes mother, I stretched beforehand," she answered, grinning.

Vaughn seemed to consider something for a few seconds. "You know, I actually took a course in massage, back in college," he said thoughtfully.

"You're kidding," she replied, and saw that he wasn't. "God, I've been doing this for too long. That doesn't even surprise me anymore."

"So...you wanna give it a go?"

"Well," Syd pursed her lips mockingly. "I do quite like the idea of you waiting on me, but then again, medical insurance won't cover the damage you'll cause."

Vaughn laughed. He loved the rare moments when Sydney stopped being serious and simply had fun with life. "Come on. I promise not to mess it up too much."

She was grinning widely by this point. "All right then, if you insist."

Five minutes, three cushions and a massage oil kit Sydney didn't even know she owned later, Syd was feeling decidedly better. "You're really good at this," she complimented genuinely.

"Thank you," Vaughn replied, smiling. "Did you ever doubt me?"

She tilted her head up, but chose to give a playful smile instead of an answer. Vaughn shook his head slightly, and continued in silence for a few more moments.

"I still can't believe my contact in West Siberia double-crossed me," Sydney piped up, shifting into a slightly more comfortable position as Vaughn protested. "I mean, I'm all right, but you'd think the CIA would give us some more reliable contacts."

"Well," Vaughn replied, ever reasonable, "we can't afford to be associated with known CIA contacts, and there's always a risk factor when you're on a mission."

"I know. I guess..." She fell silent for a few moments, and Vaughn wondered if she planned on saying anything more. "I just hate being betrayed. It's silly, but I still have so much faith. I still hold the ideal that everyone should be able to trust everyone else. Which, before you say it, is naïve and given our line of work practically insane. I just..." she trailed off.

"Wish things were simpler?" he suggested.

She nodded. "And I wish I could still trust, even after all the most important people in my life, the people I most trusted, seemed to turn on me in some way or another. Sloane. Mom. Francie. Y—" she realized what she had been about to say, and fell silent abruptly.

His gentle pressure on her shoulder didn't change, her shoulders didn't tense one bit, but the atmosphere in the room changed drastically. Suddenly, they both realized that they'd been talking about a very different and far deeper issue all along. Faith.

"I'm scared of being betrayed, I suppose. I don't even like the idea of it. I don't like not knowing who to trust, or even worse, if I'm even capable of trust anymore. I really want to be. I really want to have faith."

He leant down and kissed her tenderly, wishing she could feel even a fraction of what he wanted to say. "I love you."

"I know."

"And I'll try my best to make sure nobody betrays you again."