Part 6

The briefing room was uncommonly full as Kendall and her father detailed the operation. They had found the name of the person the Alliance had been using to store and transport Rambaldi artifacts from the information gleaned in Luxembourg. As luck would have it, the man in question was having a soiree at his estate in northern England just after three of the newly uncovered artifacts had been transferred. According to the information, they were to be in the basement holding facility beneath his 17th Century mansion.

"Agents Weiss and Vaughn – you'll infiltrate the party and then access the secure storage facility. We can't risk removing the artifacts so you'll have to take detailed photographs for analysis. It's not a step ahead but at least we won't be behind. Agent Bristow, you'll be in the tactical van a few miles out. I don't need to explain how hidden you need to stay, but you have the most experience here with Rambaldi items and I want your eyes on those artifacts as soon as possible. Questions?" He paused, continuing when no one spoke up, "wheels up in an hour."

Sydney's cover story with Sloan was a vacation to London. He was oddly ecstatic that she was finally taking time for herself after everything in the last three weeks.

"He actually said he was happy for me and that I deserved it because of all the brilliant work I do for the American government," she growled, her father driving her to the airport for her separate flight out of L.A.X.

"He's not wrong," Jack stated with a pause, "he just...doesn't know how right he is."

She sighed and nodded. "Thanks for the ride, dad."

"Be careful when you get there. This is Alliance hierarchy and they know all of the cells' top agents. If you get spotted it'll get back to Sloane faster than we can plan. No going into the party, and no heroics."

"I know, dad. I'll be careful."

"The drive to the tactical van is just over two hours which should be plenty of time and distance to shake a tail if you find you have one – and Vaughn and Weiss will be staying at the hotel across the street from you. We didn't want to risk you all being in the same location."

"I know all of this. What's going on?"

Jack parked the car and let it idle, Sydney's eyes burning into the side of his face. "I think we're close, Sydney."

"To…"

"To the end of the Alliance. With everything we've gained in the last month, I feel that I could put together an operation with your help that could have far-reaching consequences for the twelve."

The hope that sprang into her eyes was quick. "Really?"

He finally turned and met her eyes before he set his hand over hers. "I've tried for almost a month to have this conversation with you, and while it's possible no one else can see the sideways glances during briefings and secret corner conversations, I'm not that naïve." He paused. "It may be that you're my daughter and I have a...habit of being overprotective, but I can't unsee these details."

'Shit.'

"What are you talking about?" Trying to play it off, she attempted to appear confused.

"You and Vaughn." Jack tossed out watching her suddenly honest face. His warm-up with information about the Alliance had pulled her from agent-mode and dropped her guard, and the first emotion to hit her eyes in these instances was always the truth. She panicked.

"You cannot have that relationship with this job, Sydney." He looked away at the blush that rose from her neck as she turned her head and squeezed her eyes closed.

"Dad-"

"Make good decisions from here on out. Whatever happens could get you both killed. Don't forget that." They finally made eye contact and Sydney expected to see anger turning his eyes dark, but she saw simply weariness.

She nodded, "Okay."

"I must say, Mr. Arnaud, you certainly do know a great deal about Milo Rambaldi." A rotund man's German-accented English bounced around the ornate library.

Vaughn, posing as famed historian and Rambaldi enthusiast Renee Arnaud, stood feigning deep interest in the conversation. The real Renee Arnaud was being held by French authorities until the operation was complete.

Weiss was standing off to the side acting as his translator, the German man not speaking French yet determined to have a conversation with the Frenchman.

Michael found his window to escape, a man stepping onto a small stage set up at the front of the ballroom and calling everyone's attention. Handing his glass of wine off to Weiss he excused himself and headed toward the bathrooms at the back end of the villa. The guard standing near the entrance merely nodded in greeting as the green-eyed man flashed a smile and continued past.

Access to the off-stage areas was easy and the items were prepped on several ornate and heavy wooden tables. Peeking around and seeing no physical presence he did, however, note three or four added security cameras around the room focusing on the artifacts.

Reaching up to straighten his tie, he pressed the small button behind the knot that turned on the high-resolution camera. While things didn't usually stay as easy as they seemed, he was pretty hopeful that this was going to work out perfectly. Gripping his hands behind his back he leaned forward, making sure the cameras could see that he was just looking - just inspecting.

Sydney's voice chimed into his ear from her spot a few miles out in the tactical van, "camera is good," click-clack, "the first images are coming through now."

She studied the items closely, recognizing two while two others were something new. "The corroded one on the left, ignore it. That's the music box from the ice cave," she ordered, Vaughn taking a moment to finish his once-over of the artifact before turning to study a manuscript page between it and the strange invention to the right.

"I don't recognize that page. Give me four seconds and scan top to bottom."

Vaughn complied, repeating the process for anything on the table she said she didn't recognize.

Kendall watched the multiple screens in the ops center, nodding in satisfaction. "Good work team, now get out of there. Vaughn and Weiss, I expect a report before you land tomorrow. Bristow, make sure you print those high-resolution photos and get them to us. Keep studying and see if you recognize anything uniquely Rambaldi. We'll see you in a couple of days."

The blare of a car horn outside the hotel jarred Vaughn from a deep sleep, a rumble in his chest as he tried to remember where he was. The bedside clock read 19:30, and his heart and stomach switched places as he realized he'd missed his flight out of London.

"Damnit!" Throwing off the blankets he turned on the lamp and tried to shake the sleep away.

"Weiss, wake up." When his friend didn't answer he turned and found the second bed empty and made, the other agent's bags gone. "What the hell?"

A piece of scrap paper with scrawled handwriting caught his attention next to the light and alarm clock.

Oh no! You missed your flight! I have no idea how that happened (sarcasm)

Take a taxi and circle the block. Get dropped off at the staff entrance. Take the back elevators to the 3rd floor. Room 347.

Your new flight is at 1 am. Don't miss it...this excuse won't work a second time.

-W

His guts instantly filled with butterflies that were a moment later crushed one by one, and while he owed Weiss his thanks, he couldn't do it. He and Sydney had agreed a week and a half ago that an occasional kiss in the corner of the warehouse was all they'd give themselves until the Alliance wasn't a threat. So he'd spent a miserable week and a half seeing her once at the briefing and then nothing as they had no interaction in London whatsoever.

They were dating with big air quotes around the word dating. Sighing and dropping his head into his hand, he tossed the note back onto the nightstand and got up, heading into the bathroom.

Flipping on the light, he saw another note taped to the mirror.

For your information, this was difficult to set up. Don't talk yourself out of it because you and Syd made a pact or some shit.

On the counter was a red velvet jacket, complete with a name tag attached: Steve. The logo for Sydney's hotel was prominent on the rectangular piece of plastic.

"Weiss," he grumbled, shaking his head. He picked the coat up and heard a clatter as a small piece of tech fell out of the folded fabric into the sink, along with another note folded into a tiny cube.

Unfolding it with an annoyed growl:

Okay. I had more fun with this than I probably should have, but the mission was too easy and I get bored when things go right.

This is a bug-killer. Turn it on before you leave and it'll go until the battery dies. Like 15 hours. Which...if you can go 15 hours, you'll be expected to teach me your ways when you get home.

Vaughn sighed, his hands leaning against the counter as he pushed down the ball of excitement in his fluttering chest.

'A cold shower. That's what I need.'

Turning around, he spotted red on the sliding glass door. Rubbing his finger across a small part he recognized it as, "lipstick?"

If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm not that willing or honestly smart enough to do all of this by myself, and this shade of red doesn't work for me. And she is very mad that I've used 90% of this tube of probably expensive lipstick to write much too long of a message on the shower door. Well...she will be when she gets it back. Also, housekeeping is gonna be pissed.

A long red line tipped with an arrow pointed to the small ledge inside the shower door where the tube waited for him to find it. He realized that his heart was beating hard and fast and that ball of excitement was wedging it's way back up to his throat.

'Sydney helped set this up? But...she...we…'

Checking his watch, he saw it was almost 8 pm, and he would have to be at the airport by midnight to get on his flight. That would really only give them a few hours.

'And? It's better than five minutes in the warehouse corner!' He wasn't sure which part of his brain was the horny thirty-something, but it was currently the only voice lending anything to his predicament.

'Sydney helped set this up. She did this for a reason. What if she's been over there waiting in that red dress, and you've been sleeping!?'

"Okay then," he decided, quickly dressing and throwing things into his bag. He grabbed the coat, bug-killer, and ruined tube of lipstick, and double-checked the room for things he didn't want left behind.

Pocketing his wallet and phone, he switched the device on and made his way into the hallway with the carry-on. Forcing himself to walk slow and casual, he headed down to reception and turned in his room key, checking out. A taxi was parked out front, Vaughn giving him instructions to take him up the street a few blocks away and drop him off at a cafe. The driver gave him a curious look that asked why he needed a cab for a distance that could be walked in five minutes, but the man shrugged and left the front of the hotel with his passenger.

The second cabbie was equally as confused, Vaughn donning the red coat of hospitality staff yet carrying luggage. Again, they didn't ask, merely agreeing to take the man three blocks to his hotel, the staff lot empty save for two vehicles. Two service workers were smoking in the back on a covered landing, the drizzle wetting Michael's face as he stepped out from the cab, paid and tipped the driver, and made his way into the staff entrance.

Finally getting to the elevator, he had gotten out of three duties assigned from supervisors by claiming that a cabbie had dropped off someone's luggage that they'd left behind. Not one follow-up question was launched.

"Get it to their room and then get back down here."

His stomach was a mass of excited energy, the numbers lighting up on the panel as the lift rose.

1

2

3

Ding.

The doors opened, and Vaughn straightened his velvet coat and stepped onto the plush and padded carpet. A woman with a heavy suitcase was leaving her room in the direction he needed, and he gave her a nod and let her go first. He wanted to create distance and buy time until the hallway was empty, but the woman was taking forever trying to pull the oversized luggage as well as search through her huge purse for something. So, he stopped in front of a random door a few away from Sydney's and knocked.

A gruff man opened after a moment, bleary and bloodshot eyes glaring into the brightly lit hallway from the dark recess of the room.

"I'm so sorry, but you left your bag, was it?" Adopting what he thought was a well-crafted British accent, the man snarled with a grumble and slammed the door in his face. Looking at the blank scrap of paper in his hand and moved down the hall, the gold numbers 347 shining in the light. Looking left and right, he noted that the camera at the end of the hallway no longer had a red light, the bug-killer working perfectly. The woman was also nowhere to be seen and the hallway was empty.

He knocked, semi-confident but not knowing what to expect. As the door opened, he spotted soft eyes and a warm smile, one of her camisoles twisted around her waist and a pair of incredibly short shorts on her hips. Her hair was a loose chocolate wave sweeping over her back and her legs were long, tan, and bare.

"You're late," she mumbled behind a whisper.

"Apologies, miss," he chuckled, stepping into the room. Crossing his arms over his chest after locking the door behind him, he focused a smirking curious look in her direction."What happened to, 'it's too risky, isn't worth it, and we should know better'?"

They stared at one another for a few seconds, Sydney shrugging, "If there are times we can...shouldn't we?"

"Part of your plan should have been Weiss setting an alarm - I could have been here hours ago." He unfolded his arms and shrugged out of the hot, scratchy jacket, tossing it to a chair a few feet away. Their eyes didn't part as he loosened the tie and cast it on top of the red velvet, and he saw the purple seeping into the center as he began to undo his oxford.

It had been a month - a very long month filled with pent up desires and emotions, but for whatever reason, she didn't want to rush. She set out to memorize every single inch of his tan chest being slowly exposed. Her eyes took in the deft and practiced motion of each button released from the tiny slit in the fabric, sweeping across the muscles beneath as he shrugged the shirt off and it joined the growing pile on the chair.

"Are you just gonna watch? Because that's not how I'm used to doing this," he echoed her comment from the cabin, the dimpled smile hitting her cheeks as she bit her lower, smiling lip. Stepping forward until her hands touched his warm skin, she slid up his pecs to his shoulders, one wrapping around to cling at his shoulder blade as the other dove up into the hair at the nape of his neck, he felt a shiver ripple across his skin as warmth radiated outward from her hands.

His arms slid under hers as she claimed his upper body and he her lower, wrapping around her completely and burying his face into the crook of her neck and shoulder.

"When do you have to leave?" Her words were a hint of a whisper.

"Shhh," he ordered softly, peppering kisses to the perfumed skin. She tucked her nose into his throat with a sweet sigh and closed her eyes.

His mouth continued the journey to the side of her neck, Sydney sinking into the familiar feeling of being held and the flutter in her lower stomach. His hands slid around her waist and down her hips before skimming her backside and settling at the top of her thighs.

"C'mere," he mumbled against the pulse point while gripping with his hands, Sydney getting the cue and clung to his shoulders, lifted her legs, and hooked them over his hips. Toddling over to the bed he leaned forward until she felt the cool, rumpled comforter behind her back.

Releasing his shoulders her hands cupped his jaw pulling their mouths together, the kiss sensual and slow as her tongue caressed his reorienting herself to the taste and feel of being with him. They paused for a second, foreheads pressed together and breath mixing, her legs still around his waist as his hands propped himself up to the right and left of her sides. The suddenness of the flames erupting in her stomach settled between her legs as a pulse beating in time with her heart, and she realized that as much as she was enjoying taking things slow, her body was staging a mutiny against her heart.

"We have...we have time for more than once, right?" Her words were rushed and breathy, his avid nod bouncing the tip of his nose against hers.

"Plenty," he replied as his lips hungrily claimed hers.

Pulling apart with a gasping smack, Vaughn rose with his hands already undoing his belt as Sydney sat up and quickly lifted the hem of her shirt until it was tossed somewhere behind her. His hungry green eyes sparkled in the low light as his ran them from her pouted lips, across her perky breasts, and down her toned abdomen until it stopped at the shorts.

Reaching and hauling her up, his hands were at the hem as hers tackled his tented trouser button and zipper, the belt already hanging to the sides. Sydney laughed as his pants hit the floor, her shorts following a moment later until he lifted her by her hips and pulled their bodies together. She quickly wrapped her legs back around his waist and his hands gripped her thighs to hold her up, Michael tilting forward landing them back on the bed.

He needed to be inside her more than he needed his next breath, and the way her lower stomach was pushing up against his straining erection, she felt the same. Her hand reached between them as their mouths locked once more, fingers wrapping around his hardness and pointing him at her moist center. In a long smooth stroke he was in to the hilt and held still, his eyes closed as a shuddering breath squeezed out from his chest.

Sydney pressed a kiss against his dimpled chin with a smile. "Michael, we can go slow later."

He groaned and pulled his hips back for another long, quick thrust. "God I love it when you call me Michael."

Their pace was hurried and hands seemed to be everywhere at once. Sydney felt the boiling low in her stomach catch fire as she came moaning into his mouth. The tightness of her contractions brought stars to his eyes, and though he wanted to see how many times he could make her shudder around him, he wasn't going to last any longer. He followed just behind her with a groan fanning hot air against her throat.

Their overheated bodies trembled, her fingernails loosening from the dug-in crescents in his shoulder blades, his hands planted to the left and right of her body. Pushing his torso up she kept his lower half close with her arms and still wrapped legs.

The growling of his stomach broke the mood, the two sharing a laugh as he stood, slipping from her warmth, and pulling her up. As she moved to the bathroom he grabbed his boxers and slid them on before moving to the nightstand and lifting the room service menu.

"Well, I can't take you out, but I can bring dinner here. Fancy or junk food?" He asked flipping the menu about reading the options.

Two hours after having a mix of good and bad-for-you food, and another round of mind-blowing sex, Vaughn rested against the headboard with Sydney tucked into his side, the sheet draped up to their waists. Her hand rested against his chest feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm, her head on his shoulder with his hand rubbing random patterns against her side.

They'd set out to finish the conversation from their terrible date in Nice and learn those little elusive things about one another everything dating couple should know.

So far, the questions hadn't gotten too deep, but Vaughn was beginning to prod a bit. "What's your biggest fear?"

He felt her body tense a bit, though she didn't speak up. Peeking down he saw the frown on her forehead as her wide eyes blinked a few times.

"I honestly don't know how to answer the question," she admitted quietly.

"What? Why not?"

She shrugged, his pointer finger swirling the crown of her shoulder as it moved up and down. "It's different every day, Vaughn."

"How can your greatest fear be different every day?" He didn't think it was that hard of a question, but he wanted to push a bit and see where she ended up.

She sighed, and in that sigh he heard a myriad of emotions. "I mean...a couple of months ago it was that my father was KGB. Then it was my mother being alive and a criminal, and then a walk-in, and everything surrounding all...all of that."

He suddenly realized what she meant by 'different every day' and that he'd accidentally kicked a hornet's nest.

"I genuinely thought you were going to assign someone else to be my handler when we learned the truth about my mother. So...for those few days, that was the fear. And when that didn't happen, it just got replaced by something else."

"Like what?" Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he was excited that she was letting him into her soul a bit, but also a bit scared of what he might learn.

"If things had gone differently with Will, I would have lost him; and if Francie ever figures out that I don't work at a bank, I'll lose her. And...if you'd drowned behind that door in Taipei, I would have lost you. I," she paused, taking a deep breath in a stalling attempt to articulate for the first time out loud what had truly been her fear over the last year. "I'm terrified of losing more people that I love to this job. I can't quit, I'm just...stuck, and I'm a risk to everyone around me and I hate it."

"Wow...I," he stuttered, searching for a response. "I mean...I was thinking like, spiders? Clowns?" He cast a sideways smile peering down, the frown on her forehead juxtaposed with the smile on her lips.

"Damnit, Vaughn," she growled, the hand over his palm slapping his skin with a smack.

Feigning injury he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her mouth, cupping her cheek. "Look, seriously - I'm not going anywhere."

"You don't get to decide that," she reminded ruefully, Vaughn losing some of his bravado though his response was to brush his thumb against her cheekbone.

"It's your turn," she whispered.

"Bees."

"Huh-uh," she shook her head, "greatest fear."

"Have you ever seen a bee? They're terrifying," he admitted, suddenly not wanting to share and hoping she'd let him off the hook.

"Michael," she growled, her eyes serious.

He paused, stalling for a few moments. "My current greatest fear?" At her nod, "is losing you."

"Me?"

"You go to work in the morning and...every day there's a chance I'll never see you again. And if something were to happen, I'd never get to say goodbye, and I may not even know in time to prevent anything." he swallowed against the emotion rising in his chest. "I wasn't kidding when I said you were all I think of every day, Sydney, and part of that daily thought process is what I'd do if you never came home from one of your missions."

"I'm not going anywhere," she stated.

"You don't get to decide that," he repeated, the worry lines on his forehead reappearing despite having been missing in action for two, blissful hours.

"Maybe you shouldn't have gone so deep," she mumbled settling her head back to his shoulder and staring off at the ugly flower painting across the room.

A half-grin split his lips, "that's the first time you've said that to me in bed."

She laughed, "out of two times? Yikes."

"Well, out of two beds," he corrected, turning his head to peek at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was just after 11:30, Sydney catching his gaze.

"You never did tell me when you had to leave," she reminded.

"Yeah," he muttered, looking back down and seeing the soft resolved smile on her face.

"You gotta go now," spoken more as a statement than a question, he replied by nodding. "That's okay. Some time is better than no time."

They rose and dressed slowly, Sydney walking him to the door as he slid on the scratchy bellhop jacket, luggage in hand.

"I'll see you back in L.A.," she whispered, Vaughn leaning in for another kiss that left her breathless.

"Love you," he mumbled against her mouth, her smile breaking their lips apart, Michael checking the small device before leaving.