Scary-girly: Sorry to confuse you! Here's a brief update on where the story stands right now. Basically, the CIA is in possession of the Rambaldi prophecy that says Sydney will render utter desolation unto mankind or whatever (can't remember the exact wording). You know the one...it has a picture of her from like the 14th century...in season 1 (or possibly early season 2) she has to undergo all kinds of weird physical & mental tests so they can find out whether or not she's really the girl in the prophecy. Yeah, so the CIA has that, and Vaugh & Weiss have been put on a mission to find out whether Sydney really is the girl in the prophecy. Originally they were just supposed to bring her straight into custody at the CIA, but Vaughn felt bad doing that, so he convinced Kendall to instead allow him the chance to get to know Sydney, gain her trust, and get her to voluntarily give them some info about herself that might prove she's not the one in the prophecy. Meanwhile, SD-6 is suspicious of Sydney because they know she's getting friendly with Vaughn, a CIA agent. So the mystery man who attacks Vaughn in the parking garage (5 guesses as to who HE is) tells Vaughn not to meet Sydney in secret, because if SD-6 sees that Sydney's meetings with Vaughn are secretive, then they'll automatically suspect she's trying to hide something, namely that she's a double agent for the CIA, which, at this point, she isn't, because she thinks SD-6 is the CIA. And if SD-6 thinks she's a double agent, they'd have to kill her, which would be a real downer. Hope that helped.
Aliaschickita47: Bug killers to kill bug killers! I dont know - that would be all kinds of crazy. Thanks for reading :)
Everyone else out there - thanks so much for reading my story! Please review! If you hate it & think it's the absolute worst, most pathetic, sorry excuse for a fanfic that you ever read, TELL ME! Thank you.
Chapter 4
"Oh my God," Sydney exclaimed as she and Will sat down on the bleachers beside Vaughn and Eric. "What happened to your face?"
Vaughn had tried to cover up the cut he had received from the mysterious man in the parking garage that afternoon, but it was still fairly swollen.
"Oh, this little thing?" he said lightly. "It's nothing. Eric refused to give me the remote earlier today…and, uh…it got ugly."
Vaughn looked at Eric to confirm the story. For a split second, an expression of confusion spread over Eric's face, but a moment later it was replaced by the usual joking look.
"Yeah, but do you see any scratches on me?" Eric asked boastfully. "Not-a-one! I keep telling him, don't mess with the Weiss. But he won't listen. I had to teach him a lesson."
Sydney laughed, but Eric's momentary confusion had not escaped her. Clearly Vaughn was hiding something, but what? Maybe he'd had an embarrassing accident – he could have fallen down and slammed his head onto the corner of a counter. No, that wasn't it. Sydney had seen the kind of mark Vaughn had on his face on her own face too many times. Those kinds of marks didn't come from sharp corners. They also didn't come from playful fights over the remote controller with your roommate. They came from being smacked over the head with a metal object. A gun. What if Vaughn didn't really work for a bank? After all, banks were popular cover jobs for spies…
Shut up! screamed the ever-present voice in her head. You think nearly half the people you meet are spies! Stop being so paranoid! The boy has a scratch on his face, that's all. Can't you just allow yourself to relax and have fun, for once?
Sydney sunk into a temporary gloom. She was only 21 years old, but she knew that in some ways her work at SD-6 had aged her exponentially. Young people were not supposed to be so cynical, so untrusting. Everyone she met, nowadays, she felt was a potential enemy, someone she might have to kill. She sighed. Vaughn noticed it.
"What's up with you?" he asked her quietly so no one would hear. "You look like someone just died."
"It's nothing," she lied. Then, picking up on a different tangent, she said, "I was thinking of my mom, actually. She used to take me ice skating. I haven't been to a rink since before she died."
Vaughn nodded understandingly. He reached over and placed his hand over hers for a brief moment. Sydney felt the warmth of it long after he had removed it.
"You must think I'm a total sap," she said, looking up at him. "Two of the three times I've hung out with you, I've ended up getting emotional about my dead mom."
"Don't say that, Sydney," Vaughn said seriously. "I know exactly how you feel, grieving for a parent that died so long ago you don't even know if your memories of them are real. You feel almost stupid being sad about it still, but you can't help it. Some hurts go too deep for healing."
"Yes," said Sydney thoughtfully. "But in some strange way, I'd rather feel this pain than nothing at all. I'm glad you understand."
"I do understand. And any time you feel sad about it and need someone to talk to – someone who will understand – well, you've got my number."
Sydney smiled. She'd never had a friend who could relate to her over the death of her mother. She was feeling foolish already for having ever doubted Michael Vaughn.
"At any rate, I've got something for you that I think might cheer you up a bit."
Sydney looked at him questioningly. Vaughn reached down underneath the bleacher and grabbed a plastic shopping bag. He handed it to Sydney. She put her hand inside curiously and pulled out a pint of coffee ice cream and a plastic spoon.
"Vaughn!" she cried, flinging her arms around him in a spontaneous hug. "How did you know to get coffee?"
"Francie told me it was your favorite," he said, laughing. He was glad her face was pressed up along side of his so she couldn't see how red he was. Sydney released him from the hug and leaned back in her seat, beaming. The 21 year old cynic was gone, for the time being, and had been replaced by a giddy, dimpled girl with a new crush, who had the entire world at her feet.
"Thank you so much," she said seriously, wiping her eyes, which had watered up a bit for some reason she couldn't tell.
"Hey, hey," said Vaughn, placing his hand over hers, and this time leaving it there for a few moments. "It's just ice cream, Syd. If I were a real gentleman I would have got you flowers or something."
"No, this is much better. After all, you can't eat flowers. Want some?" she asked, holding an ice cream-loaded spoon up to his lips. He began to protest, but she was too fast for him. She jammed the spoon into his mouth, and he laughingly attempted to swallow the ice cream, but a good portion of it ended up dripping down his chin.
"This is bad," said Weiss, as he and Vaughn drove home that night.
"What?"
"You know what."
"No, I don't," said Vaughn with irritation.
"'Francie told me it was your favorite,'" he said, doing a mock imitation of Vaughn giving Sydney the coffee ice cream.
"Oh, come off it," Vaughn said angrily. "The ice cream cost like two bucks. I spent twice that paying for your toilet paper last week. What's the big deal?"
"Ok, let's just forget about the whole Sydney-Bristow-is-a-potential-enemy-of-the-state-and-it's-our-job-to-bring-her-into-custody-before-she-renders-utter-desolation-unto-us-all thing for now -- "
"We don't even know if she's the girl in the prophecy!" Vaughn cut in.
"Right, right, exactly. So let's talk about the Alice side of things."
"What? What 'Alice' side of things? What the hell are you talking about."
"Can you honestly tell me that if Alice knew you took the time to buy Sydney Bristow – keeping in mind that Sydney is an incredibly hot, single woman – her favorite flavor of ice cream, for absolutely no reason, and that you two shared a teary hug afterwards, she would be completely okay with it?"
"Ok, we did not share a 'teary hug'" Vaughn said heatedly, "and yes, I think she'd be perfectly fine with it, not that it's any of your business."
"Hey man, cool down. We're just having a friendly talk here, man-to-man. And since we're on the subject, let me just say one more thing. If it weren't for all that prophecy crap about Sydney being the antichrist, or whatever, I'd say totally go for it."
Vaughn looked at his friend, a grin slowly creeping over his face.
"Yeah?" he said after a few moments.
"Yeah," Weiss said, smiling. "Definitely. I mean, we never had this conversation, but Sydney is great. She's funny, cute, smart – and sexy…"
"Yeah, I get the point. But I'm with Alice."
"Right," said Weiss, raising his eyebrows. "Well, here we are." He unbuckled his seatbelt as Vaughn parked the car. "Does Sydney know about you two, by the way?"
Vaughn climbed out of the car, slammed the door shut, and walked inside.
"I guess not then," said Weiss to himself.
"Sydney spoon fed Vaughn! Sydney spoon fed Vaughn!" Will cried in a sing-songy voice as he and Sydney walked into her apartment.
Sydney gave him a hearty whack in the stomach with her purse, but the damage was done. Francie came running out of her bedroom.
"What? Vaughn? From the other night? Oh my god! You spoon fed him! Wait, I don't get it."
"Yeah, it was hysterical," said Will, ducking behind the counter as Sydney took another swing at him with her purse. "He got her this carton of coffee ice cream cause you told him it's her favorite, and then she was spoon feeding him all night, only he kept trying to get away, so it ended up dripping all over him, and she'd wipe it off his face with a napkin, it was the cutest thing…"
"I swear to God, Will Tippin, one more word and this purse will make sure you never have a chance to procreate," Sydney said in a disturbingly serious voice.
She held the purse out threateningly, aiming it at his lower region. Will considered the predicament and quickly decided that his future children were more important to him than taunting Sydney. He slumped onto the couch in bitter defeat, but unfortunately for Sydney, Francie was not about to give the matter up.
"So you still like him, then?" Francie asked her eagerly once Will was out of earshot.
Sydney hesitated. It was not in her nature to be open about personal things, but somehow, with Francie, who she lied to every day about very serious issues, she found it almost impossible to hide matters of the heart. That girl was always the first one to notice when Sydney had had a bad day or needed a hug, just as she was the first to notice when she was on top of the world. Sydney sighed.
"I barely know him at all, Francie, so I feel dumb saying this. But he really seems like the perfect guy…"
Francie threw her arms around her friend. "I'm so happy for you, Syd. You really need this."
"Well, it's not like anything's settled between us. I don't even know if he likes me. Like I said, I barely know him."
"Oh, he likes you honey," said Francie, squeezing Sydney's hand. "Anyone can see that. And I know you don't know him all that well, but for some reason, I have a really good feeling about him."
The next day at the C.I.A.
"Agents Vaughn and Weiss, I need to see you in my office," said Kendall sternly. "Now."
Vaughn and Weiss exchanged dark looks as they followed their boss into his painfully sterile office.
"Tell me now, where do we stand on the Bristow case?"
"It's going well, sir," said Weiss deferentially.
"That's comforting, Agent Weiss. But, you see, here at the CIA, we need more detail on our cases than simply hearing that they are 'going well.' So if one of you two would be so kind as to tell me exactly how well it's going with Ms. Bristow, I'd be much obliged, as I'm sure your families would be, when they hear you haven't been fired."
"We're still working on gaining her trust," said Vaughn, suppressing the urge to spit on Kendall's shiny bald head. "It's hard to gauge such matters as these with precision, but Weiss was right when he said it's going well. If things continue progressing as they are, I think we'll be able to start asking her some questions about the prophecy within a week or two without raising her suspicions."
Kendall eyed them skeptically.
"Very well," he said. "But don't waste any time. The sooner we get these results, the better. Remember, if there's any change in her behavior at all – anything that leads you to believe she suspects you're more than just two goofy college guys – you bring her in straight away. Any slip-ups and I'm transferring you both directly to the mail room, do you hear?"
Sydney, Noah, Marshall, and Sloane were gathered around a conference table at the SD-6 office.
"There has been a development with regard to the Rambaldi artifact," said Sloane. Sydney didn't know why, but something about the strange sparkle that flashed in Sloane's eyes whenever he spoke of Rambaldi made her feel a bit uneasy.
Sloane continued, "We have reason to believe that this man – " he flicked a switch so that each of their computer screens showed the photo of a middle-aged, rather shady looking Asian man, "has knowledge as to who is currently in possession of the artifact. The man's name is Young Lee, and he will be at a club in the Moncloa district of Madrid tonight at 23:00. Our objective is simple. Get him to tell us who has the artifact."
"He's just going to offer that information freely?" Sydney asked doubtingly.
"It's unlikely," Sloane replied. "Whoever purchased the artifact from Lee would probably not be overly enthusiastic at the idea of him sharing their identity with a competing firm. But, I'm sure with the help of Marshall's op-tech, you'll be able to think of something creative to get the information you need."
Sydney did not look or feel quite so confident.
"Sydney," said Sloane encouragingly, "I know you haven't had that much field experience outside your training, but I think you're ready for some new challenges, which is why I've assigned you to this mission. Your plane leaves in two hours. Noah will be your partner."