Vaughn walked into the safe house carrying two brown paper bags full of
groceries and two bottles of wine, one white and one red. He hadn't known
which Syd preferred, so he'd got one of each. The same went for food- he'd
simply wandered through the rows, picking up items at random. He'd been
working for 12 straight hours and just wanted to see Syd and then sleep for
10 straight hours. In that order. He set it down on the large kitchen table
and walked quickly through the apartment, looking for Syd. He found her in
the bedroom, looking at the day's newspaper. The agent in him noted that
she was reading the society pages.
"Hi." She said, eyeing him carefully "rough night at work?" she asked "You could say that." He answered wearily, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. Syd moved over on the bed, making space for him to sit down. He accepted with a ghost of a smile.
"So, what happened that they had to drag you in at midnight?" she said, folding the newspaper in half and leaning over to drop it to the floor. He saw her wince in pain as she sat up, but didn't question her. If she wanted to tell him if something was wrong, she would.
"Oh, not much. Except that one of our senior agents dies last night in a car crash." He said heavily. He hadn't known the agent personally, but knew of him. He'd been a good field agent.
"Was it an accident?" Syd asked instantly. She knew how easily car crashes could be set up.
"That's what we're trying to find out." Vaughn said. "I got some groceries on my way here. I didn't know what you liked. So I just got some basics. Milk, bread, eggs, bacon, chocolate.." He never finished his sentence. Syd got the impression that he was teasing her slightly, so she smacked him playfully on the arm. He pulled her arm gently, sending her sprawling across his lap. Their faces where just inches apart. Vaughn lowered his head slightly as she closed her eyes, hoping that he'd kiss her.
The phone on the bedside table rang shrilly, shattering the cosy atmosphere that had been building. The two agents sprang apart like they'd been shocked. She reached over and picked it up, then handed the receiver to Vaughn without a word. As he took the phone, she left to room, shutting the door firmly behind her.
When Vaughn came out of the bedroom a few minutes later, his face was ashen. He found Syd in the kitchen, drinking a cup of strong black coffee from a thick white cup. A little steam rose from the surface of the drink. Vaughn noticed that the groceries had been put away. He looked at her as he sat down and she looked away from him, studying her slowly re-growing nails.
"Syd." he began awkwardly. "That was White on the phone."
"What does he want?" she asked tiredly.
"He wants you to go back to Russia. Back to Moscow." Vaughn said "Artis will only talk to you." He reached out his hand to touch her arm, but she pulled away, refusing to accept the comforting gesture. "No. Vaughn, I can't." she said desperately. "It'll. I can't." she had gone deadly pale and was shaking slightly. She spilled some coffee onto the table as she put the cup down.
"It's okay. It's okay." Vaughn said, taking her into his arms to comfort her. This time, she accepted the gesture. "I understand. It's fine. It's fine."
"No, it's not!" she exploded, shoving herself away from him so that she could pace round the kitchen. "I'm supposed to be one of the best agents, right? No mission to hard." she asked bitterly, but continued before he could answer her question. "And I can't even do my job properly because of what the bastard did to me."
"Syd." Vaughn said, standing up.
She continued as if she hadn't heard him. "And now they want me to talk to him but I can't." Silent tears were rolling down her face. She made no move to wipe them away.
"Syd..." Vaughn said again. She turned to look at him with bloodshot eyes from crying.
"Yes?" she asked formally.
He was saved from answering by the doorbell ringing.
"Hi." She said, eyeing him carefully "rough night at work?" she asked "You could say that." He answered wearily, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. Syd moved over on the bed, making space for him to sit down. He accepted with a ghost of a smile.
"So, what happened that they had to drag you in at midnight?" she said, folding the newspaper in half and leaning over to drop it to the floor. He saw her wince in pain as she sat up, but didn't question her. If she wanted to tell him if something was wrong, she would.
"Oh, not much. Except that one of our senior agents dies last night in a car crash." He said heavily. He hadn't known the agent personally, but knew of him. He'd been a good field agent.
"Was it an accident?" Syd asked instantly. She knew how easily car crashes could be set up.
"That's what we're trying to find out." Vaughn said. "I got some groceries on my way here. I didn't know what you liked. So I just got some basics. Milk, bread, eggs, bacon, chocolate.." He never finished his sentence. Syd got the impression that he was teasing her slightly, so she smacked him playfully on the arm. He pulled her arm gently, sending her sprawling across his lap. Their faces where just inches apart. Vaughn lowered his head slightly as she closed her eyes, hoping that he'd kiss her.
The phone on the bedside table rang shrilly, shattering the cosy atmosphere that had been building. The two agents sprang apart like they'd been shocked. She reached over and picked it up, then handed the receiver to Vaughn without a word. As he took the phone, she left to room, shutting the door firmly behind her.
When Vaughn came out of the bedroom a few minutes later, his face was ashen. He found Syd in the kitchen, drinking a cup of strong black coffee from a thick white cup. A little steam rose from the surface of the drink. Vaughn noticed that the groceries had been put away. He looked at her as he sat down and she looked away from him, studying her slowly re-growing nails.
"Syd." he began awkwardly. "That was White on the phone."
"What does he want?" she asked tiredly.
"He wants you to go back to Russia. Back to Moscow." Vaughn said "Artis will only talk to you." He reached out his hand to touch her arm, but she pulled away, refusing to accept the comforting gesture. "No. Vaughn, I can't." she said desperately. "It'll. I can't." she had gone deadly pale and was shaking slightly. She spilled some coffee onto the table as she put the cup down.
"It's okay. It's okay." Vaughn said, taking her into his arms to comfort her. This time, she accepted the gesture. "I understand. It's fine. It's fine."
"No, it's not!" she exploded, shoving herself away from him so that she could pace round the kitchen. "I'm supposed to be one of the best agents, right? No mission to hard." she asked bitterly, but continued before he could answer her question. "And I can't even do my job properly because of what the bastard did to me."
"Syd." Vaughn said, standing up.
She continued as if she hadn't heard him. "And now they want me to talk to him but I can't." Silent tears were rolling down her face. She made no move to wipe them away.
"Syd..." Vaughn said again. She turned to look at him with bloodshot eyes from crying.
"Yes?" she asked formally.
He was saved from answering by the doorbell ringing.