A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews and I apologize for the length of time it took me to post this chapter but unfortunately time is against me…among other things, but anyway here's the next installment! Enjoy!
Agent Elektra: Love the name! I thought that Jennifer Garner was great in that movie!
J. Dy: I'm sorry that you feel that I have changed Vaughn for the worst. Trust me, that was not my intention. I decided to go down a different path in this story. Vaughn told only because he understood the oath he had taken as a husband. If Sydney had been the one he had married and a similar situation had come about, wouldn't you want Vaughn to tell her the truth? Vaughn's broken protocol before and once again he thought he was doing it for an honest cause. Vulnerable? I apologize if my words offend you in anyway but I would hardly call Sydney Bristow vulnerable, even after she has lost two years of her life. Vaughn may not have approved of Lauren's decision, but there hardly seems to be anything that Vaughn chooses Sydney over anymore, at least when Lauren is in the room. In the helicopter it was Lauren who Vaughn sat next to comforting while Jack comforted Sydney. Granted, I wouldn't have wanted Lauren to be comforted by Jack Bristow either, but as far as we know, Vaughn showed no real emotion following Sydney's rescue. Vaughn was upset at his wife's decision to transfer Sydney, perhaps I did not portray that clearly enough, but I hope that this chapter will squash any fears that Vaughn is still the devoted CIA agent that J.J. Abrams has created him to be. Thank you for reviewing! I told you I like the good the bad and the ugly, and I look forward to the your feelings about Vaughn after this chapter! :)
Chapter 7
Sydney Bristow decided to stay in Paris, hoping that the NSC would have assumed that she had left. However, she knew that she couldn't stay there long. She could only stay till her father's next call and even for that she was unsure of how long she had to wait. So for the time being, she had a taxis drive her around the city. Already she had purchased hair dye, new clothes, and a powder that made her look much whiter and much older.
She sat in the back of the cab while the driver chattered on in French about the scenery when she finally got an idea. She told the cab to drop her off at the nearest street where she paid him and stepped out on the sidewalk. When she was sure that he had pulled away, she flagged down yet another taxis and told him to take her to the opposite side of town. For her intended location, she was heading in the wrong direction, but in case anyone tried to follow her tracks, no one would have any idea of where her final destination was.
She had the driver pull over onto le rue de blu where she got out and continued her journey on foot. She kept her walking trail away from the road and tried to stay away from populous streets as much as humanly possible. The remaining distance she had to cover was at least five miles, and she knew she wouldn't reach her destination until after sundown, but that was fine. Night would prove to be more to her advantage.
As she walked she couldn't help but wonder what had happened only mere hours ago. Their intended source with intel had obviously been a set up, but by whom? The NSC? The Covenant? And there was the question of how Lauren had found out about her involvement in Lazarey's murder. Lauren, of course, could have discovered that answer by herself, but there was another way that Sydney was not willing to believe so she instantly shut it out from her mind and switched her questions back to the mission.
It was possible that it all could have been arranged by the NSC but that depended on how long the NSC had known about her involvement. Her dad had found out today, which meant, she hoped, the NSC hadn't known long enough to arrange the meeting. The only other option was the Covenant, unless of course there was another organization that she didn't know about.
Sydney sighed. The streets of Paris were quieting and the lights of the city could be seen even from behind the trees Sydney used for shelter from the people. She wished she could be sitting here in Paris, having a romantic candlelight dinner with Vaughn, but so many things impaired that vision that she was forced to erase that dream from her mind.
The house was in sight now. It was a beautiful light blue house, painted in the greatest regards of the nature that surrounded it. Smoke billowed from the house's chimney and made Sydney realize for the first time that she was cold. She walked up to the door and looked hesitantly around before knocking softly on the door.
An elderly woman took a few minutes to open the door, but she answered nonetheless. She had white hair that fell loosely to her shoulders at shoulder length, and dashing green eyes. Her skin was wrinkled in the areas where the face normally showed age, but it all depicted kindness just the same.
"Bonsoir, Madame Vaughn," Sydney greeted.
* * *
Vaughn didn't know how he did it, but he managed to turn his back away from Lauren's question. Lauren however, was unable to see that the conversation was over so quickly as she reached out and pulled his arm to hold him back.
"You are not walking away from this. You are not walking away from me till I have a straight answer," she said. Vaughn pulled his arm from her touch feeling burned. He wanted to slap her, he wanted to throw something, he wanted to trash every inch of the CIA for making his life this way, but he resisted all of that and faced her.
"You are asking me to never speak with someone I love, someone I've cared about for years. You're asking me to lose her again, willingly. I can't do that," Vaughn said simply.
Tears of hurt and betrayal showed on Lauren's cheeks. "But you are willing to lose me," Lauren said with a whisper.
"Willing? No," Vaughn said shaking his head. "I'm forced. Since Sydney's come back into my life, you've become suspicious and jealous of all of my actions, turning into a woman I hardly recognized as my wife. A wife who broke a promise with her husband. It's all too obvious you can't trust me, and now I don't trust you. You got everything you wanted Lauren," Vaughn said turning away. This time, Lauren let him go.
* * *
"Do I know you?" Ms. Vaughn asked her in French.
"My name is Sydney Bristow, I am a friend of your son's," Sydney said, unable to whisper his name right now.
Ms. Vaughn shook her head animatedly. "No, you can't be Sydney, Michael told me she died two years ago." Sydney reached into her wallet and pulled out her driver's license. Mrs. Vaughn looked back and forth between the two. "You bear a close resemblance, but you have black hair and blue eyes. This picture has brown hair and eyes."
"I had to have them dyed. I need a place to stay for a few hours, maybe days," Sydney said, knowing that Vaughn's mother knew where Vaughn and she worked. "I don't want to put you in any danger, so I would understand if you say no."
Mrs. Vaughn looked at Sydney wearily and with a quick look around motioned Sydney inside after handing back her license.
"Make yourself comfortable," Mrs. Vaughn said as Sydney took a seat on the couch. "Can I get you anything?"
Sydney shook her head and Mrs. Vaughn took a seat across from her. "Not to sound rude," Mrs. Vaughn apologized in advance, "but how is it that the CIA thought you were dead?"
"It's a long story, but the basis of it is that I went missing for two years and the CIA thought I was dead," Sydney explained, bracing herself for the question she knew she was going to be asked next.
"Where were you during those two years?" Those very words had echoed in her head so many times and yet she was still no closer in answering them.
"I don't know," Sydney said looking away. Mrs. Vaughn watched her in sympathy.
"I'm sorry," she said. "Look you must be tired," she said rising from her seat. "I'll show you to your room." Sydney nodded a followed Mrs. Vaughn up the stairs into a nice simple room with flowered wallpaper and a bedspread to match.
"Thank you, I really appreciate this," Sydney said with a smile.
"No problem, dear, goodnight," she said as she closed the door. As Sydney sat down on the springy mattress she couldn't help but wonder what room Vaughn had stayed in as a child. It was like she had stepped into Vaughn's past and she had a chance to view him in the days of his innocence. She lay down on the bed and looked up at the brown fan on the ceiling. The sound a voice talking downstairs floated through the thin floorboards and was then she realized that Mrs. Vaughn was calling her son.
Sydney suddenly knew she couldn't stay. She didn't know where, who, or how the phone lines may be tapped, but Vaughn's phone, depending on which one Mrs. Vaughn had just called, was most likely unsafe. Sydney sighed as she rose from the soft bed and creaked the door open a little. She waited until Mrs. Vaughn had hung up and had settled herself in a nearby bedroom before opening her door and stepping lightly down the stairs. Now that the NSC most likely knew of her location she couldn't remain in Paris anymore. Silently she thanked Mrs. Vaughn for her short but willing generosity as a hostess and prayed that nothing would happen to her.
* * *
"Sydney's there?" Vaughn asked in quiet disbelief.
"She says she is Sydney, but Michael, did not you tell me she was dead?" his mother asked.
"Yes I did, but she's not anymore," Vaughn whispered. "Thank you, Mama, I'll be there as soon as I can."
Vaughn hung up quickly and stood up from his seat abruptly trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Why was Sydney at his mother's house? He needed to know what was going on and he knew there was only one person to talk to for that, unfortunately Vaughn crashed right into him.
"Jack, I need to talk to you," Vaughn said once they had recovered from their collision.
"You certainly have a funny way of showing it."
"Sydney is still in Paris—" Vaughn began.
"Agent Vaughn, if you are even considering asking to get involved with my daughter's affairs at this time, I'll save you the time. No," Jack said with a hint of anger.
"I care about—"
"You care about my daughter?" Jacks scoffed. "I would have believed that more had you kept your silence, so you'll understand my unwillingness to believe you can keep any information concerning Sydney out of the hands of your wife."
Vaughn didn't know where he found the courage to say what he said next. Maybe it had been triggered by his argument with Lauren only minutes before. Maybe it was the stress of his job, or maybe it was just the idea of losing her, of not being apart of her life anymore. Whatever it was, this would become a moment neither man would ever forget. Vaughn rose threateningly from his seat and met Jack Bristow face-to-face.
"Don't pretend to know that you're the only one who knows how to protect someone you care about! I've cared for your daughter ever since she walked in those doors. Before the two of you were even on speaking terms. I made it my goal in life to see that she was okay. I have endured countless sleepless nights because I'm wondering if tonight will be the call. The call that will tell me that Sydney's mission was unsuccessful and that she won't be coming home this time. Dammit, Jack! When Sydney disappeared I wondered and hoped everyday she'd walk into my arms and tell me everything was okay. Because of the outcome, yeah, I regret telling my wife, but I will still hold the virtues of marriage. In this case, trusting my wife seemed to be the wrong decision, but I know that in the midst of love, trust comes naturally to those we love, and sometimes we get burned," Vaughn said eyeing Jack pointedly. "But no matter what happened or what's going to happen, I care what happens to Sydney and now I want to make things right. Now we can either work together quickly and efficiently or we can work separately and most likely cause more harm than good in Sydney's behalf?"
Jack eyed Vaughn carefully. No one in a long time had had the guts to confront him with the emotion Vaughn had just showed. He could see the pain and regret in the boy's eyes and he felt sympathy. He remembered the undying devotion he had for Laura back in the age when he had been oblivious to who she really was. He couldn't imagine still trusting his wife as he had so many years ago, but he could definitely see the situation that Vaughn had been in. He was partial to the feelings of his daughter and his over protectiveness may have resulted in his unwillingness to trust this agent who apparently was still in love with his daughter. At this moment, he decided to ignore the possible ends of the places Michael Vaughn's heart might lie and decided to submit to the fact that this man wanted to help his daughter.
"Meet me at the Memento Bar at nine o'clock," Jack said sternly.
"Thank you," Vaughn replied with weary relief as the older man gave him a brief nod before walking away.
* * *
Sydney's temporary place of settlement was a smoky bar on the border of Switzerland. It was after midnight, and not surprisingly the bar was starting to empty. Friends helped unsteady walkers out onto the street and into the cab while artificially beautified women went home linked in another man's arm. It wasn't a place Sydney would often associate herself with, but the open food serving developments were few at this hour.
A few unfocused men attempted to catch her eye, but Sydney continued to sip her beer in purposeful ignorance. The bartender, a short angry looking man with an Irish style beard, placed a napkin purposely in front of her. "Guy left this for you," he said gruffly. Sydney looked around as the he walked away to wipe dirt into more glasses and opened the napkin. It read: Meet me outside.
Sydney would have disregarded the note as a feeble attempt for a date if she hadn't seen a familiar symbol at the bottom corner of the page. Rambaldi's symbol. Sydney threw some money on the table and left out the back door, thinking that this may be her father's way of contacting her. A damp musty alleyway greeted her nostrils and no one else. Suddenly someone came up behind her and delivered a quick kick to her stomach that landed her at the opposite side of the alley wall. Before she could raise her head to greet her attacker she heard the cocking of a gun. Sydney didn't say a word as she angrily looked into the eyes of a person she knew all to well.