A/N: Thanks for the reviewwwwwws...and since I have a bit of time on my hands, I'm going to respond to some of them individually.

Twinnie & Alatriel97 - sorry about my spanish suckage. i'm pretty mortified about that. i used to be damn good at spanish, but like i said, its been about 3 years since i took a class in it. i should just off myself.

Meighan - i hear ya about dragging it out more with syd & vaughn. i wish i had the willpower to do it. i hadnt really planned on their feelings for each other developing so quickly, but ahhh what can you do! i love them! they have to love each other!

me - i'm glad you've enjoyed my story so far. do you think you could be a little more specific about your criticism of vaughn and jack's dialogue? do the characters just not sound like themselves in that section, or do you think they wouldn't really talk to each other that way, or is the whole scene just kind of awkward and out of place? thanks : )

Thanks also to timeisonyourside, irionelissa, dandan, and everyone else who's read and/or reviewed my story.

One more tiny thing, then I'll shut up, I promise. I just have to say, I'm pretty excited about this chapter. It's kinda juicy. But I'm also nervous about your reactions. Please be brutally honest with me. If you think it's too sappy or fluffy at parts, let me know. Thankssss!

Chapter 6

"Syd," said Vaughn as they sat at a small table in one of the local coffee shops, sipping on their beverages, "I need to say something, just so it's out there. Ok?"

Sydney nodded nervously, encouraging him to go on. She was pretty sure she knew what he was going to say, and she knew that it would be extremely awkward for them both.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Alice. It was really inconsiderate. I – "

"Vaughn, stop," said Sydney, cutting him off. "You don't have to apologize. I mean we hardly knew each other…you don't have to tell me every detail of your life."

Vaughn placed his hand over hers without even realizing he had done it. She looked up at him, slightly startled, but made no effort to move her hand.

"It was wrong of me not to mention it. We were very honest with each other about other things…I know it must have been hard for you to tell me about your mother's death. It's hard for me to talk about my dad all these years later…I don't just open up about that to anyone. The truth is, Sydney, I didn't tell you because…"

"You don't have to explain yourself," Sydney interrupted. She didn't want him to think she was some kind of psychopath woman that would demand an explanation for everything he did. In fact, she was feeling quite amazed at herself. Thirty minutes ago she was determined to end her friendship with Vaughn forever because he had concealed his relationship with Alice from her. But now she couldn't care less about all that.

"No, I want to explain myself. Here, look at this," he said, taking his watch off and placing it in her hand.

"It's broken…"

She looked up at him confusedly. Was he asking her to fix his watch? Not that she wouldn't be glad to help him…but if that's all he wanted from her, it would be a disappointingly unromantic turn of events.

"Yes. It was my dad's. He wore it for years…said it kept perfect time."

"You should take it somewhere to get it fixed," said Sydney. "I'm sure your dad would want that."

Vaughn took a deep breath. "My father used to say you could set your heart by this watch."

"Oh…well, all the more reason to get it fixed! We certainly don't want your heart to break," said Sydney, chuckling at her own stupid joke.

"Sydney. The watch stopped the day I met you."

She stopped laughing at once, her heart thumping as understanding dawned upon her. Was he saying his heart was tied to her now? She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. She knew it was her turn to say something, but the words wouldn't form themselves.

"Syd," said Vaughn after a pause, letting go of her hand. "You don't have to say anything. I just wanted to tell you. I probably should have waited…"

Sydney sat there silently, staring at the floor. How was it that she had enough courage to throw herself into life-threatening situations every week, but when it came to telling someone how she felt about him, she was too cowardly to say a word?

After what seemed like hours to Vaughn, Sydney lifted her head and looked into his eyes, almost timidly at first. But as her gaze deepened, her barriers faded, and her eyes revealed a soul that was pure, womanly, and completely vulnerable. In her expression he read the truth that her lips were too scared to utter, and a flood of happiness washed over him. He was almost frightened by it.

"Shit," said Weiss. "You told her about the watch! Are you retarded?"

"I thought I might be at first, but I think it went ok, actually," said Vaughn, still beaming, even though he had dropped Sydney off at her apartment an hour before. "I'm pretty sure she feels the same way as I do."

"She feels the same way! Hey man, that's great. Really great. But have you stopped to consider which way she's going to feel when she finds out your entire relationship is a big fat lie! That you're actually being paid to hang out with her!"

Vaughn buried his head in his arms. He had been trying all night not to think about that. Leave it to Weiss to remind him.

"I don't want to rain on your parade, man, but you're only making things harder for yourself. And for Sydney. You know that, right?"

Vaughn didn't say anything. His face was still hidden behind his arms. He knew Weiss was right, though. Finally he raised his head and looked at Weiss.

"I know. I just don't know how to bury my feelings for her. I've never met anyone like her in my life, Eric…I mean you should have seen her in Madrid. She was incredible."

"I thought you said she didn't even have a chance to talk to Lee?"

"She didn't, but she would have gotten the info from him in a matter of seconds, I'm sure of it. I've never seen anyone look so confident, so sexy…but then on the other hand, she's got the whole adorable girl-next-door thing going for her. It's really something more than that though. I can't put my finger on it. God – why do I have to work for the freaking CIA, of all places?"

"I'm sorry, Michael. I really am. I don't know what to tell you," said Weiss sympathetically.

"Eric, I'm going to tell her the truth," he said resolutely.

Weiss stood up abruptly and slammed his fist on the table.

"You can't do that," he said heatedly. "You'll get us both fired if you do that."

"You don't know that…"

"Michael! I am not losing my job because you developed a crush on some wench! If you tell her, I'll have to report you."

Vaughn slumped back into his seat wearily. He knew Weiss was right. And of all the dangerous missions he'd been on – many of which had come within an inch of claming his life – he thought that lying to Sydney, a woman he'd known for less than two weeks, was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do.

Weiss sat back down too, still fuming. But after a few minutes, sympathy for the difficult situation his friend was in overcame his frustration.

"Hey," he said in a friendly voice. "It's gonna be okay. You know that right?"

Vaughn smiled weakly. He didn't know anything of the sort. But he was glad Eric wasn't mad at him.

"Not to add insult to injury or anything," said Weiss delicately, "but Kendall's gonna kill us if we go much longer without any advances on Sydney's case. Have you thought of how you're gonna start questioning her?"

Vaughn's jaw tightened. "I'm taking her out tomorrow night. Maybe we'll discuss it over a nice bottle of wine."

Tomorrow night…

"Francie!" cried Sydney frantically, "Get in here now and help me figure out what to wear!"

Francie obediently followed her roommate's command. It's not like she had a choice – God knows Sydney had come to her rescue in countless pre-date wardrobe catastrophes.

"Want some chips? I just made the most delicious bean dip," she said between swallows as she walked into Sydney's room.

"Are you serious? I'm gonna have a hard enough time fitting into one of these outfits as it is! What kind of 'best friend' tempts her roommate with carbs just minutes before she has a hot date? Wait, did you say bean dip?"

Francie grinned and passed Sydney the chips and dip.

"Syd, I thought he told you to dress casually?"

"He did."

"Then why do you have all these fancy clothes lying out?"

Sydney let out an exasperated sigh. "Francie, I'm not gonna look like a hobo on my first date with Michael Vaughn."

Francie raised an eyebrow, but declined to comment.

"Oh God," Sydney moaned, staring at the skirts, dresses, and tops that were scattered across her bed. "These are all too fancy, aren't they! Being overdressed is like the worst thing you can do – he's going to think I'm too eager! Shit. Do you think we have time to make a quick mall-run?"

"Calm down, honey," said Francie soothingly. "I'm sure there's something here. Hey, what about this one?"

She held up a simple sundress made out of a brown crinkly material.

"That dress was my mom's," said Sydney softly.

"Try it on," Francie encouraged.

Sydney slid the dress on over her shoulders and looked at herself in the mirror. Well, Francie had done it again. The dress was perfect…casual, but not at all hobo-esque. It brought out the brown in her eyes and made her skin look creamy and tan.

"Wow," said Francie.

Just then the doorbell rang.

"Oh my God, is it already 7:00?" Sydney wailed. "It is! Ahhh! I don't even have any makeup on!"

"Shhh, calm down, I'll answer the door, you go put on makeup. But not too much!" Francie cautioned. "Remember, less is more. Just a touch of lip gloss and some mascara should do it for you. You know you look better with the natural look."

Sydney thanked her and rushed into the bathroom, while Francie went to answer the door.

"Hey!" she said cheerfully as she opened it. "Come on in!"

Vaughn started to follow Francie inside, but then remembered Jack's warning. As far as Sydney is concerned, her apartment is a private, secretive meeting place, and therefore you must never go there again. It was bad enough that he was standing on the doorstep. If he went inside, he could risk both Sydney's and Francie's life.

"Oh, that's alright, I'd rather just wait out here," he said lamely, leaning against the arm rail.

"Don't be retarded, Vaughn, come on inside. It could be a minute before Sydney's ready. Plus, we got a new couch since the last time you were here. Don't you want to see it?"

"Um, yes, I do, actually. But not right now."

Francie looked at him skeptically. Vaughn cursed himself for failing to think up a good cover story to explain all this beforehand.

"It's just, well…I left something in my car. Yeah. I better go get it. I'll be right back!" he said, dashing off to his car.

Francie raised her eyebrow quizzically, but decided to let him have his way. If Sydney wanted to question his odd behavior, that was one thing, but Francie knew it wasn't really her place to do so. She went inside to check on Sydney.

"You about ready?" she asked as she walked into Sydney's room.

"Just a sec," Sydney replied.

"Well hurry up! Your lover refused to wait inside for some reason…he's standing out on the staircase. Oh my God, do you think our apartment has a smell?"

"Ok, I'm ready," said Sydney, emerging from the bathroom. "No, it smells fine. Well, maybe it smells a little like bean dip right now. Anyway, how do I look?"

"Hot," said Francie. "If I was a lesbian, I'd totally do you."

"That's comforting. Ok, I'm off. Don't wait up!"

She gave Francie a quick hug and walked out the door.

"Sorry I made you wait – I lost track of the time," she said to Vaughn as soon as she was outside. But Vaughn didn't hear a word of it. He stood there gaping at her for a few moments, unable to say anything. She looked like she'd just walked out of a dream. How could it be that she had actually agreed to go on a date with him?

"You look…beautiful," he said, recovering himself. She smiled and followed him to his car. He walked around to the passenger's side with her and opened the door for her, shutting it carefully once she was inside.

"So, where are we going?" Sydney asked as Vaughn pulled out of the apartment complex.

Vaughn looked at her sideways and chuckled nervously. "Well, I had this perfect evening planned. I was gonna make you this incredible steak dinner, which we could eat by candlelight on the balcony of my apartment."

"That sounds amazing," said Sydney.

"Yeah, it would have been. But Weiss came down with a stomach virus and has been puking all over the apartment. As you can imagine, it's not the most romantic setting."

Sydney couldn't help laughing.

"So what are we going to do?"

"Well, this is L.A. after all. There are tons of excellent restaurants with chefs who could grill you a steak much better than the one you would have eaten at my place."

"Vaughn," said Sydney, brushing her hand across his arm, "I don't need a fancy dinner. Why don't we have a picnic somewhere? We could go to the beach…"

Vaughn thought for a minute. The gentleman in him felt like it was his duty to take her somewhere special…or at least make sure she ate a fine meal on their first date. But the penis-bearing part of him, which, after all, always wins out, had a different take on it.

Hmm, he thought. Sydney. Me. Alone. Nighttime. Beach.

"Yeah, the beach sounds great," he said.

An hour later the two were sitting on a blanket by the ocean, sharing a bottle of light Chianti and chowing down on pizza.

"Mmmm," said Sydney, swallowing a mouthful. "Nothing quite measures up to a good hot pizza. Not even steak."

"You haven't tried my steak yet," Vaughn said jokingly.

"You'll have to give me a rain check on that."

A rain check! Vaughn thought his stomach was about to explode with all the butterflies flying around in it. She wanted to see him again – the date was going well. It was then that he heard Weiss' voice in his head.

Do it now! Ask her some prophecy questions! She's had half a bottle of wine, she's staring dreamily into your eyes…she won't suspect a thing. Do it!

His lips began to form the words, but at the last moment, he stopped himself. She looked so peaceful as she sat there hugging her knees, sipping on his wine. He couldn't do it.

Without knowing what he was doing, he took one of her hands and pulled her over to him. He gently brushed a strand of hair back from her face, his heart racing as he realized their lips were only inches apart. She seemed to have had the same realization, for her eyes, which had been staring intently into his, faltered, and she looked down at the ground with a mixture of shyness and vulnerability that tore at Vaughn's heart. He wanted to kiss her more than he'd ever wanted anything, but his conscience forbade him. He sighed and contented himself with wrapping his arms around her and drawing her closer to him. Surely there was nothing wrong with that.

As she curled up against him, her hand slipped and she spilled her wine all over his shirt.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" she cried. "I'll buy you a new shirt, I promise!"

"Shh, Syd, it's fine. It'll come out. Don't worry about it."

"No, I'm going to fix it. Hold still," said Sydney, as she began to blot the stain with a dampened napkin.

Vaughn couldn't help laughing slightly as Sydney sat there scrubbing his shirt as if the survival of the universe depended on it.

"Hold still!" she said, giggling. "It's almost out."

"Great," said Vaughn, looking down at the massive wet spot on his shirt. "Now I look like a sweaty pig."

"It's okay. I like my pigs sweaty."

Vaughn laughed, as Sydney leaned over, gently blowing on his shirt in a hopeless attempt to dry it.

"Hey! That tickles!" Vaughn yelled, collapsing onto the blanket.

"That tickles!" Sydney exclaimed. "Blowing on your shirt tickles? You must be the most ticklish person alive. Oh man, you are so dead…"

She climbed on top of him, pinning him down with her legs, and began digging her knuckles into his ribs until he laughed so hard he thought he would die. At long last, after countless pleas for mercy, Sydney relented. She made a motion to climb off of him, but he applied the slightest pressure to her torso, as if to say, You can climb off of me if you want, but I'd really like it if you stayed just where you are. Sydney needed no further encouragement.

Her lips curved into a sweet smile as she looked down at him, and his heart melted. Without thinking of what he was doing, he reached out his hand and stroked the back of her hair, guiding her face closer to his. She closed her eyes, but just as his lips were about to brush against hers, the sound of gunfire pierced the air. Two men had appeared out of nowhere and opened fire on them.

Sydney dove in front of Vaughn to shield him from the bullets. She had no idea who those men were, but she knew the attack must have something to do with SD-6. This was all her fault…because of her involvement with SD-6, an innocent man, a man who had begun to win her heart, was going to die. All these thoughts rushed through her head as she attempted to drag Vaughn off towards the shed a few yards away. She felt a bullet puncture her shoulder, but she kept moving toward the shed, ignoring the white-hot pain.

Then something unexpected happened. With surprising force and dexterity, Vaughn got his arms around Sydney and hurled her through the air so that she landed safely behind the shed. Sydney stared, open-mouthed, as Vaughn reached in his pant pocket, pulled out a gun, and began firing at the men.

Strangely, the first thought to run through her head was How could he have had a gun in his pocket that whole time I was tickling him, and I never noticed? But she didn't have time to muse over that specific point. From watching him in the last few moments, Sydney saw enough to confirm that he was not the innocent, honest man she had taken him for. He was clearly a spy, though for what agency she couldn't say. In a matter of seconds, he had disarmed both men and had them on their knees, facing him, with their hands up.

"Who do you work for?" he asked roughly.

One of the men whimpered. Vaughn smacked him over the head with his gun.

"Who the hell do you work for?"

"We work for God and country," said the other man, laughing bitterly. "Just like you."

"You're CIA?" Vaughn asked, bewildered. "No. That's impossible. Since when is it standard procedure for the CIA to attack its own agents?"

"It's not. We weren't after you. We were after her," said the man, indicating Sydney, who was watching the scene wide-eyed from behind the shed. "And if you had half a brain, you'd have killed her yourself, rather than flirting with her like some pathetic pimple-faced middle schooler."

That was it. Vaughn raised his gun and shot both of the men in the head, killing them instantly. Then he rushed over to Sydney, who had slumped to the ground, clutching her shoulder.

"Syd, are you alright?" he asked hoarsely.

"Who the hell are you?"

"I'll tell you everything, I swear to God, but there's not time now, they'll be sending backup, you've got to come with me now…"

Sydney stood up slowly, wincing with pain. Her dress was now soaked with blood.

"What makes you think I'd go anywhere with you?" she panted, gripping her shoulder to slow the blood-flow.

"If you don't come with me right now, you're going to die," Vaughn said seriously. Sydney didn't budge. "Look," he continued, "I'll tell you this much. SD-6 is not a part of the CIA. Its part of the Alliance. You work for the very enemy you thought you were fighting. If you don't come with me right this second, both the CIA and SD-6 are going to send people to kill you."

Sydney stared at him with a look of weary repulsion. She heard the words, but they didn't register. She was in spy mode. She knew her life was in danger, and she knew she couldn't trust Michael Vaughn. If she was going to make it out of this alive, she had to depend on herself, and herself alone.

"Syd, let me look at your shoulder," said Vaughn slowly, stepping forward. Sydney reached under her dress and in one swift motion whipped out the gun that had been strapped to her thigh and pointed it at Vaughn's head.

"Get away from me," she said icily.

"Syd, don't do this, you're making a mistake…"

Sydney fired the gun three times, turned, and ran off into the night. She didn't look back.