So, since one person put this on their alerts list (thank you cyn23!) and I know that Alias has been over for a while and I'm not too sure that there's as much activity in this fandom than in some of the other ones I write for, I figured I may as well put up the next chapter because I have it written! This one is much longer than the prologue, and has much more going on in it and will probably explain a lot of things that may have been confusing in the giant note I had at the beginning of the last chapter. There are a couple of other things I didn't mention that are out of order, like the fact that Sydney's still in school, and Nadia is more of a freelance agent and grew up in contact with her aunts in Russia (namely Katya).

ANYWAY, I think that's all you really need to know. Happy reading!

I love reviews, but if you prefer to silently observe, that's okay too. At least people are interested! :)

CIA Headquarters

Los Angeles

09:30

One month later

WALKING IN THROUGH THE FRONT door of the CIA headquarters in Los Angeles was one of the strangest moments of Sydney Bristow's life. It had been almost four years since she had set foot in this building, and she'd honestly thought she'd never set foot in it again. This time, however, was different from all the other times. She'd never had to come in with an escort before, and, though the two suited men walking slightly behind her could easily be two other men walking around, their presence was extremely disconcerting. It made her feel like a criminal. The curious stares she attracted didn't help either. Sydney knew that she was a little bit of a CIA legend; the story of the girl who pretty much single-handedly brought down one of the most powerful terrorist cells in the Northern Hemisphere had caused her to become an office celebrity. Very few people actually got to see the fabled Sydney Bristow in the flesh, since she never actually came through the main entrance, and they all seemed to be taking full advantage of the opportunity.

Thankfully, the friendly face of Agent Eric Weiss was waiting for her in the hallway. He took one look at the guards following behind her and said, "I've got it from here, gentleman."

For a second, Sydney thought they would ignore him, but after a moment they disappeared with a curt nod at Weiss and an accusing glare at Sydney.

"What's going on?" she hissed, as soon as the guards were out of earshot. "They met me at the door like I'm some kind of criminal. Didn't they read my statements? Can't they see that I'm actually doing them a favour by joining? They should be thanking me, not placing me under armed guard." She lowered her voice, aware that people were beginning to stare. "And where's Vaughn? I thought he was going to meet me. That's what we agreed on Tuesday when I came in to write my statement."

"Change of plan," Weiss replied. "Vaughn was in Havana, trying to pick up the trail of a former arms dealer linked to The Covenant. He just got back this morning; he's still being debriefed. They sent me instead. I hope you don't mind."

Sydney smiled. "Of course not. I'm always happy to see you, Weiss. But what's with the escort?"

Weiss looked around, then grabbed her arm and pulled her off down a more private hallway. "Listen, Syd, I'm not actually supposed to be telling you this, but I think you deserve a fair warning. I agree with you, we're extremely lucky to have you back, given the circumstances—your father and Vaughn agree with me on this as well—but Kendall doesn't seem to be convinced. He still thinks that you're a traitor to the country, and he doesn't buy your whole 'I didn't know what The Covenant was really doing' story, so he's put you under surveillance. Don't be alarmed if there are people outside your house too."

"People outside my house?" Sydney exclaimed, outraged. "Who does this guy think he is? Does he think I'm some kind of terrorist?"

"Apparently so," Weiss said quietly. "He's taking no chances with you."

"Well if he thinks I'm such a threat, then why did he reinstate my clearance? Why not just throw me in a cell?"

"Well, apparently your father pulled some rank. Rumour is that Vaughn stuck his neck out quite far for you too. We all had to do psych evaluations, me, your father, Vaughn, anyone from the office that you'd been close to last time, to see if we really believed that you'd knowingly be part of a terrorist organisation. We all said no, of course. After that, Kendall couldn't really shut you out, but he's not willing to take any chances." Weiss smiled. "He may not have operational control, but he pulls quite a bit of rank with Langley. Even so, amongst the upperclassmen here, he doesn't have as much power as he wants. After all, he's the odd one out. All the other senior staff members have been working together for years."

Sydney smiled thinly. "As nice as it is to know that most of the senior staff is still the same, I want to have a word with Kendall. I haven't even met him, and he's already crossed a line." Without waiting for Weiss to reply, she strode down the hallway towards the Ops Centre. As she was walking, something occurred to her. "Weiss, the arms dealer Vaughn was tracking in Havana. Who was he?"

Weiss sighed. "Technically, I'm not supposed to be sharing this with you, but I don't believe in keeping secrets from friends, and I think, as a senior staff member, you should be kept posted. His name is Vladimir Leibovski. He's a Bulgarian munitions dealer who was known to have supplied The Covenant with a number of weapons over the years. He no longer works for them, but Kendall thought he might have some intell. Vaughn went with a tactical team to apprehend him. They got nothing. Leibovski wasn't there, despite sources that confirmed he was. Kendall was, as you can imagine, furious."

Sydney smiled. An idea had just occurred to her. "Let this be my first test then. I want a meeting with all the senior staff in twenty minutes. I know why you couldn't find Leibovski. He wasn't in Havana."

"Then I take it you know where he is?"

Sydney grinned. "Of course."

The minutes Sydney spent sitting aimlessly at her desk seemed like hours. She was still waiting for Weiss to let her know whether or not Vaughn was out of debrief so they could have the meeting. She was desperate to prove herself, to gain Kendall's trust. She just wanted to get it over with, to get to work. Sitting idly didn't do her any good; in fact it was the spare moments where her mind had a tendency to wander…

The weather was uncommonly warm for the end of the summer, which only made the funeral even more unbearable. Within minutes of sitting down, everyone was stifling, but, of course, none of them would admit it. The reverend's droning was forgotten amidst the heat; it felt more like July than August.

From where she was sitting in the front row, Sydney could feel everyone's eyes on her. She knew they were looking at her for many reasons: 1) she was the girlfriend of the deceased, 2) she was the only survivor of the fatal "car accident" that had taken Danny's life, and 3) she was battered and bruised from the incident. She had thought about wearing cover-up to hide all her bumps and bruises, but hadn't felt like going to the hassle of putting it all on in the morning. Besides, she didn't want to look too perfect at Danny's funeral. The large bruise on her cheekbone was beginning to fade; the unhealthy purple had become more of a sickly green. The hairline cut above her right eyebrow was almost healed; it was really only her hip that was still sore. It was one of the worst injuries she'd had in a while; the seatbelt had left a deep cut surrounded by purpley-blue bruising with the veins spiralling away from it like spider webs. The other minor scrapes—caused mostly by the rolling of the Jeep, and the explosion of the windshield—had healed, but her hip still throbbed every time something touched it. Even the light pressure caused by her fitted black dress was enough to override the painkillers.

The sharp elbow in the ribs from her best friend Francie Calfo—who was sitting beside her—brought her back to the present.

"You've got to say something," she hissed.

Sydney gave Francie a tiny nod to indicate her thanks before getting up and walking towards the front. All eyes followed her up and stared expectantly as she turned to face them. Her speech seemed to have glued itself to the inside of her pocket; it took a bit of tugging to get it out. Why she'd even written a speech was beyond her; she'd known Danny well enough to do his eulogy without anything written down.

She paused, before finding the courage to speak.

"Danny Hecht was a kind, intelligent man, and perhaps one of the best people I ever had the honour to know. I probably haven't known him as long as many of you who are gathered here, but I think I can say I knew him well. He was someone that I cared about very much, someone who was taken from us too soon. I know how much his career meant to him, and how much he wanted to be able to help other people. In fact, Danny was one of the most helpful people I knew. Having to live without him…" The tears finally flooded her eyes, and she could feel her throat closing over. She didn't want to cry now, not in front of everyone. She tried to take a few shaky breaths, to calm herself, but the tears pressed forward. Her eyes frantically roved the crowd, looking for someone who wasn't crying of teary-eyed. At the back of the crowd, Sydney found him. She'd invited him; wanted him to be there; carefully slipped the note under a file folder on his desk where she thought it would be seen, but she hadn't thought that he'd actually come. There was too much bad blood and old history between him and Francie. And yet, he'd come anyways.

Michael Vaughn's eyes were dry when Sydney saw him, but his face was full of sadness and understanding. She remembered; his father had died when Vaughn was ten. He knew very well this grief she was feeling. How many funerals had he attended for agents who were gone, too? For a moment, it seemed inconsiderate to invite him, but Sydney needed him here. He was her tether, the one thing that pulled her back together when she teetered on the verge of falling apart.

Looking at him now, she could feel herself mastering the tears enough to continue.

"Danny was a friend, but he was also so much more than that. He was like a brother to me, a confidante." The tears were coming faster now, and looking at Vaughn did nothing. "I loved him so much, and I'll spend every day of my life wishing it was me they were burying instead."

Her legs trembled as she sat down. Francie put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. "That was beautiful, Syd," she whispered tearfully.

Sydney tried to smile, but her facial muscles wouldn't move. She wanted to get up and run into Vaughn's arms, and never have to think about any of this again, even though she knew it was impossible. Not only had he been gone for the last four years, but they had never really talked about what happened the night he left. She had no idea if he had dated anyone while he was gone; she certainly had.

The reverend said a prayer, and the pallbearers began to winch the coffin down into the grave. It hit Sydney then: she was never going to see Danny again. It seemed too much to bear, and a wave of revulsion rolled over her as Sloane's face flashed across her mind. She wasn't going to rest until he'd paid.

"Syd, they're ready."

The memories scattered like sand in the wind as Weiss approached Sydney's desk. She managed a small smile and stood up. "You sure you're okay?" Weiss asked.

Sydney nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine." She forced a bigger, more convincing smile. "Let's go meet the gang."

She started towards the briefing room, but was stopped when Weiss put a hand on her shoulder. Looking around, he lowered his voice and said, "We're meeting in one of the conference rooms upstairs. This is all off the record."

Sydney frowned, confused. "Off record?"

Weiss nodded and lead her down an unfamiliar corridor that lead to the elevators. "I wish I could explain it to you, Syd, but I can't. You'll just have to trust me on this one." There was an awkward pause before he continued. "Have you spoken to Vaughn at all?"

Sydney could feel her face tightening. "Yeah. He came to Danny's funeral."

"But you haven't talked about what happened."

"No." And I don't want to, Sydney thought.

"I don't know if you've looked at the records or anything," he began, "but Vaughn and I didn't have a choice about going to London. He fought tooth and nail to do it some other time, to get someone else to go, but Langley shut him down. He wanted to stay with you, Syd. He was miserable without you; for the first month I didn't think he'd be able to pull it together."

Sydney had read the reports. She knew they didn't have a choice. In fact, when she'd thought about it after the fact, she'd realized that he probably didn't have a choice. That was what made it so much worse: knowing that, by overreacting so much, she had ruined the best thing in her life. She opened her mouth to reply, but she wasn't really sure what to say. Thankfully, she didn't have to. Looking at Weiss, she could see he understood.

The conference room on the second floor was filled with familiar faces. In fact, if Sydney remembered correctly, they were all sitting in the same places around the oval shaped table that they had usually occupied in the briefing room four years ago. At the front, in the seat that would usually be occupied by Director Devlin, sat F.B.I. Assistant Director Kendall. On the other side of the screen was her father, Jack Bristow, the next most senior agent at the office. Sitting to Kendall's right was and empty seat that Weiss quickly slipped into, and the empty one next to him was obviously for her.

There was a tense silence as Sydney sat down, which was broken by the door opening.

Michael Vaughn slipped into the empty seat to Sydney's right, muttering apologies to Kendall as he did so. Their eyes met for a minute, and there was an awkward moment before Sydney looked away. She hadn't really spoken to Vaughn since the funeral; he'd been doing a lot of fieldwork, and she'd been busy with school. She'd also been avoiding him, in part, because she knew that at some point, they were going to have to talk about what was going on or was going to happen between them. They hadn't spoken about what had happened four years ago at all, and Sydney was dreading the day that that topic would come up. It had been the worst night of her life, and the thought of rehashing it was something that she didn't ever want to have to deal with.

"So, Agent Bristow, I presume you've called us here for a reason." Kendall's voice cut through the silence like a knife. Sydney had barely known this man ten minutes, and already she didn't like him. When she'd first met him that day she'd come to write her statement, she'd tried not to from an opinion until she got to know him, but now it was clear that they were two people who weren't going to get along.

"Yes," she replied tightly, before standing up. "I have been informed that you recently sent Agent Vaughn to Havana to retrieve Vladimir Leibovski. From what I understand, you were unable to apprehend Leibovski in Havana. Am I correct, Agent Vaughn?" She tried to control her emotions as she looked at him. He opened his mouth to respond, but Kendall interrupted.

"You have a point, Agent Bristow?"

"I believe the question was addressed to Agent Vaughn, sir," Sydney snapped, not appreciating his condescending tone.

"You're right, Syd," Vaughn said quietly, but firmly. "Leibovski wasn't in Havana."

Jack Bristow watched his daughter intently. "Sydney, do you know where he is?"

Sydney ignored her father's question. "When Leibovski used to supply weapons to The Covenant, he operated out of a warehouse in Havana. He—"

"We're aware of this, Agent Bristow," Kendall interrupted. "We sent Agent Vaughn to Havana based on your report." He glared at her, as if to indicate that Vaughn's failure to produce Leibovski was her fault.

"If you'd read my report, sir, then you'd already know that Leibovski left Havana after The Covenant finished with him," Sydney retorted. "Havana was a temporary set-up. His real operations centre is in Paris, where he operates under the name of Bernard Cousteau. I can phone him to set up a meeting, and then I can go in and apprehend him."

There was a tense silence. Jack spoke, "I think this is valid intell, Kendall."

"We may never get another chance to get Leibovski," Weiss added.

Kendall frowned. "What you've said is true, but I don't want to risk a set-up. Agent Bristow, Agent Vaughn, you're going to Paris. Find Leibovski, talk to him. Get a copy of his itinerary if you can. If he looks like he's got some interesting plans going on, let him stay where he is. If not, bring him in."

"Really, Director Kendall, I hardly think that's necessary," Sydney protested. "This is a one-man job. I'm perfectly capable of getting the itinerary and apprehending Leibovski by myself."

"Are you really so naïve as to think that I'm going to let you waltz in to see some old The Covenant contact by yourself?" Kendall's accusing glare made Sydney's cheeks flush angrily. She opened her mouth, outraged, but he continued. "I am aware that this is a one-man job, Miss Bristow, but none of our men know how to contact Leibovski, nor how he operates. So Agent Vaughn will be accompanying you. End of discussion." He paused and glanced around. "Any questions?" No one said anything. "Good." To Sydney and Vaughn, he said, "You leave in fourteen hours. Good luck."

Sydney tried to conceal her frustration as she left the room and headed back to the Ops Centre to get her purse. That Kendall still didn't believe she was loyal to the CIA was beyond frustrating. All this was beginning to give her the feeling that she was never going to fit in here, no matter what she did. There were still going to be accusing stares as she walked down the halls, condescending comments from Kendall, constant supervision to prevent her from contacting her old contacts at The Covenant.

As she was leaving, she noticed the memorial plaque on the wall that commemorated those agents from the LA office who had lost their lives in action. Seeing the commemoration made her think of how it could have easily been her name up on that plaque with the others, had Danny not been in the way…

It seemed like years before all the funeral-goers had left the house. As soon as the door closed behind the last guest, Sydney collapsed on the couch and closed her eyes. All she wanted was for this to be over, and her sad semblance of a life to resume.

"You okay?"

Sydney rolled over to face her best friend, Will Tippin, who was hovering by the kitchen island, looking concerned. She had noticed him watching her throughout the whole service. Though she'd only known him for four years or so, she trusted him more than many people she'd known longer.

"I'm okay," Sydney said, forcing a little smile. "Just tired."

"Mmm." Will nodded. "It was a long day." He frowned, like he was trying to remember something. "That guy at the funeral, the guy standing at the back? Is he a friend of yours? Because he was watching you the whole time."

Sydney wondered how best to answer this. Technically, Vaughn wasn't a friend; he was so much more than that. But they weren't dating, so she wasn't exactly sure what to call him. "He's a…well he works at the brokerage with me."

"What brokerage? I thought you said that after the bank, you were done."

Sydney sighed. "I did, but the I realized that I really need the money. I know Francie would lend me some, or my dad would, but I want to have my own income, you know? Besides, I'm in my last year of grad school, and I don't think I'll go into teaching as soon as I'm done anyways. I need something to do in the interim. This is different from the bank. I like it."

"Oh." Will looked at her for a long time. She almost wanted to yell at him, to tell him to find something else to look at. The way he was staring at her, it made her feel strangely exposed, like he knew there was more to this story than what she'd told him. Which there was, but now wasn't the time to tell it. "It's complicated," she said.

"Okay. You don't have to talk about it."

Sydney smiled weakly. "Thanks." She paused for a second. "Is Francie still in the shower?"

Will nodded. "Yes. Why?"

Sydney shook her head. "Nothing. I'm going for a walk to clear my head. Tell Francie where I've gone, okay? I'll be an hour or so."

"Okay, Syd. You're sure you don't want company?" Will looked so eager that Sydney hated to shut him down, but she really needed the time to think. "Not today, Will. Maybe another time?"

"Sure thing." He smiled, the first real smile she'd seen all day…

…Clear her head. Sydney really needed to clear her head. She couldn't seem to focus on anything today; she was just stuck in the past. Still, looking at the memorial outside the Ops Centre reminded her of Danny's tombstone that day after the funeral…

The cemetery was peaceful. The symmetry of all the tombstones was beautiful, but Sydney didn't notice that until later visits. Today, all she could see was the shining granite headstone, the newest addition to a family of hundreds. Inscribed upon it was written: DANNY HECHT, 1973-2001. FOREVER WITH ANGELS.

Sydney could feel the tears welling up as she knelt down in front of the grave. The lump swelling in her throat blocked all the things she'd meant to say. This time, she let them come. Down they fell, like rain; rivers streaming down her cheeks, flooding her face and dripping off her chin. To have someone so beautiful, so perfect, be taken away, she could barely begin to imagine.

"I thought I'd find you here."

Vaughn's voice seemed to come from very far away.

"Syd, I'm sorry," he continued. "I meant to stay after the funeral, but, considering the way things are with Francie, I thought it would be better to give you guys some peace."

"Don't worry," Sydney said quietly, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "I didn't think you'd come at all."

He sighed. "Syd…"

"Don't," she whispered. "Not now, Vaughn. Please."

He said nothing. Slowly, she stood up and they stood together, side by side, facing the grave.

"I wasn't fast enough," Vaughn said softly. "Syd, if we'd–"

"It wasn't your fault." Sydney hated to see him blaming himself for any of this when he'd saved her life. "I should have known The Covenant would never let me go that easily, not when I was so valuable. My mistake was leaving, and now Danny's dead–" The tears started to come again, cutting off her words. There wasn't anything else to say.

Vaughn wrapped his arms around her. "I'm so sorry," he whispered.

Sydney didn't say anything. She didn't need to, because, even though she was crying by someone's grave, this moment was perfect.

"Hey. Are you okay?"

Sydney blinked, yanking herself back into the present. She was still standing in front of the plaque commemorating those who had been killed in action. She quickly reached up and brushed the tears out of her eyes before turning to face Vaughn. He frowned in concern, standing the way he always did, his hands slung in the pockets of his slacks.

"Yeah." Sydney brushed past him, keeping her head down. "I'm fine."

Vaughn strode after her. "Syd." When she ignored him, he sped up. "Sydney!" Again, she ignored him. "Hey!" He grabbed her arm and spun her to face him. He looked worried. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Sydney nodded, trying to conceal her frustration at Vaughn's persistence. Why wouldn't he just leave her alone? It was touching that he cared so much, even after everything that had happened, but now she wished he would just leave her alone. "That's all anyone seems to ask these days." She tried to force a smile, but it came out like a grimace. "I'm fine, Vaughn. Really," she added, when he continued to look dubious. "I should probably go. I'll be late for class." She gave him a tiny smile and left.

"Was that Sydney?" Weiss ambled up to join Vaughn in the hallway.

Vaughn just continued staring after her. She worried him, especially now, seeing as she wouldn't talk to him, or anyone else, for that matter. There was only so much one can keep bottled up inside before they exploded. Vaughn didn't intend to find out how much Sydney could take before that happened to her.

"I don't think she'd field ready. After all that's happened…"

Weiss rolled his eyes. "Michael, in case you haven't noticed, she hasn't been doing a whole lot of field work yet. Kendall doesn't trust her any further than he can throw her, and she's not supposed to know about APO yet—since they haven't determined whether or not she's worthy—so there's not much else she can do. Besides, I think a normal routine is exactly what she needs to take her mind off things. Give her some time. Syd's strong. She'll be all right."

Vaughn frowned. "Regardless of what he thinks, Kendall's going to have to send her out into the field more and more often. She's the only one who knows anything substantial about The Covenant She's the key to bringing them down, and Kendall knows it. Trust is not an issue here. These are terrorists we're dealing with."

"Yeah, but this is Sydney we're talking about. Normal rules don't apply to that kid," Weiss replied. "I think she's more than capable of taking care of herself. Besides, I think The Covenant has seriously underestimated what they're dealing with, since they haven't come after her again. You'd think the wouldn't want to use such a valuable asset."

"At twenty-six, she's hardly a kid, Weiss," Vaughn reminded him gently.

"Right," said Weiss. "You all set to go?"

Vaughn nodded. "From what I understand, the contact protocol is pretty lengthily. We may be gone a couple days. Listen; do you mind looking after Sergeant for me if we're gone more than a day? I'll leave his food out."

Weiss sighed. "Do I mind looking after his dog, he asks. Have I ever had a choice? You know I feed that dog more often than you do anyways, even when you're home. The perks of being you're housemate."

Vaughn smiled. "Hey, I'm not the one who agreed to live with me. You could have turned the offer down."

"Yeah and have to do my own cooking? Do you have any idea how much of my paycheck would be spent on food? Take-out is expensive these days." He shook his head. "By the way, does Kendall know you're going to be gone that long though? He'll have Sydney's head if he thinks she's playing us."

"Of course he knows," Vaughn snapped, the tension returning to his tall, lean frame. "Sydney included the contact protocol in her statement. If Kendall doesn't know, Jack will be able to remind him. And even if he didn't, Sydney would never betray us, because she's trying to earn Kendall's trust. She wants to belong here."

"What's going on with you?" Vaughn turned away, but Weiss followed. "Did Lauren call you?" Again, Vaughn said nothing. "Is that what this is about: the fact that you feel guilty about not telling Sydney about Lauren? Because you don't normally jump down my throat every time I open my mouth, Michael."

"That's not what this is about," Vaughn replied stiffly, but the muscle jumping in his jaw indicated otherwise. "Besides, I don't have to feel guilty about not telling her. She didn't tell me about Danny."

"Yeah, because she'd left the Agency, you were on a deep-cover, and she'd sworn she was never going to see you again. This is a totally different scenario."

"How does that make it a different scenario?" Vaughn cried in exasperation. "Besides, Sydney doesn't need anymore complications in her life right now," he added with quiet finality. "I'd like to leave it that way."

"Ultimately, it's your choice," Weiss warned. "But the longer you let this sit, the worse it's going to be for you. If you don't tell her yourself, she might find out in less than favourable circumstances, and then all hell will break loose."

Vaughn sighed. "I'll tell her, all right, just not now. Let's get this mission over with first."

"Suit yourself."

Vaughn cast a glance around. People were beginning to look at them. Feeling self-conscious, he turned to Weiss. "We should get out of here. We've quit the CIA remember? We can't exactly hang around."

Weiss nodded. "You're right. Let's go."