In The Air Tonight, Part 23

- - -

Well, Michael Vaughn could certainly say one thing: his luck for the day was staying true to form. To make up time, Vaughn had rushed through his daily grooming ritual, which got him out the door by 7:25 and gave him a decent chance of making it to work on time. But he quickly lost that advantage when he had to turn back after driving four blocks because he'd left the disc from Irina and his laptop sitting on his kitchen counter.

Then he found that his car's air conditioner had mysteriously stopped working, and on a sunny May morning, that was not a good thing. Still, he was able to cope by removing his suit jacket and rolling down the driver's side window. As long as he was at cruising speed, the breeze created made the heat bearable.

Vaughn's easy ride to work abruptly ended with the excruciatingly slow stop-and-go traffic he was now stuck in on the 101. Three exits from his turn-off and he was crawling along like a snail, seemingly inches at a time. Impatiently, he looked at his watch and then loosened his tie and rolled the sleeves of his oxford up to the elbow, uncomfortable in the heat.

When Vaughn had reached his exit, his watch read 7:58 am. By the time he accessed the restricted lot, parked, and jogged into the compound carrying his stuff, he was most definitely late…hot, sweaty, tired, and late.

The blast of cold air that hit him when he stepped inside the Ops Center felt so wonderful, Vaughn couldn't help but stop for a moment just to enjoy the sheer pleasure of it. He snapped out of his momentary lapse when someone jostled him from behind and he walked briskly around the outer edge of the rotunda to the entrance of the inner sanctum.

Just as Vaughn was slinging his suit coat onto the back of his chair and depositing his bags on the desk, Director Kendall marched straight up to him. "You're late," he said by way of greeting. "Did you not get the message as to what time I was expecting you?"

"No. I mean, yes I did, Sir," Vaughn replied with a tired sigh. "It's just that—"

"I want none of your excuses, Agent Vaughn," Kendall interrupted briskly. "I understand that last night was a setback, but you need to keep your head in the game. Your presence here is needed, and expected….on time."

Last night was a setback?!? Vaughn thought, nonplussed by Kendall's gift for gross understatement. "Yes, Sir. I understand, Sir."

"Good. Don't let it happen again." Nodding toward Weiss, seated at the desk next to Vaughn's, he said, "I'll expect both of you in the briefing room in ten minutes. We've got a lot to go over."

"Yes, Sir," Weiss replied dutifully, although when Kendall walked away, he made sure to make a face at his retreating back. "Man, that guy's a prick," he said conspiratorially, leaning forward in his seat, closer to Vaughn. "I wonder if he had to go to school for that or if it just comes naturally…"

Vaughn's weak smile was more of a grimace. He plopped himself bonelessly into his seat and laid his head back against the cushion for support.

Eric took a long look at his friend. He looked exhausted, mentally and physically…not to mention beat up, hot, and pale. "Mike, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you look like sh*t," Weiss informed him with concern. "Are you sure you're up to this?"

Vaughn wasn't at all sure he was up for anything that might happen today, but he also knew he didn't have a choice. He owed it to Sydney to try and find out what was going on and if Irina was indeed right about her part in the Rambaldi enigma. Forcing himself back into a more normal sitting position, he bluffed, "Yeah, I'm all right. I'll be fine."

Eric's look told him he was extremely skeptical of Vaughn's bravado. "Yeah, sure you are…and I'm Charlie Sheen."

Vaughn's mouth tilted up into a half-hearted smile. "Well, with your love of the ladies, you could be Charlie Sheen."

"Not unless I lost about fifty pounds," Eric admitted ruefully, placing both hands on his stomach.

"If you could just lay off a couple of those '99 Cent Beer & Nachos' nights at Starkey's, you'd be much better off," Vaughn replied.

"Yeah, yeah…but we were talking about you," Weiss quickly switched the focus back to Vaughn. "Seriously, man, you look like you had a bad night last night."

"Bad wouldn't even begin to cover it," Vaughn admitted tiredly, rubbing his forehead as if it would help his headache subside.

"Worried about Sydney, huh? Well, I could see that. Any word on how she's doing?"

"The same, according to Jack," Vaughn answered. For a moment, he couldn't decide if he wanted to tell Eric about his nighttime visitor, but decided he needed to if he were going to enlist his help. "But that's not what made my night so horrible."

"Oh?" Eric asked, surprised. "If it wasn't Sydney, then what did make it so awful?"

"That would be due to a certain unexpected visitor that called on me in my apartment last night," Vaughn began.

"What!?" Eric asked shocked. "Who!?"

"Irina Derevko, that's who."

"No way! You're pulling my leg!" Weiss accused.

"I only wish I were," Vaughn replied.

Eric studied Michael's face for a moment. It was obvious he was dead serious. "Oh, my God…you're not kidding, are you?"

"No, I'm not."

"Whoa… Mike, you gotta tell me everything. What the hell happened!?" Eric gasped.

"When I got home from the hospital, I was in no fit shape to notice anything," Vaughn started. "so I honestly have no idea if she was already there or not. I kind of just dropped everything inside the door and headed straight for the shower. I…" Vaughn did not want to go into detail about his breakdown, so he simply covered by saying, "I took a long shower to try to clear my head. She could have gotten in at that point, I don't know."

"Anyway, after the shower, I pretty much headed right off to bed. I was pretty exhausted."

"Uh huh…then what?" Eric prompted.

"Suddenly it felt as if I was being watched… I sat up and looked around; there was a movement by my closet. It was Irina, and she was packing a 9mm Luger."

Shocked, Eric said, "Sh*t! You mean she ambushed you in your bedroom!? While you were in bed!?"

"Did I mention that I was naked at the time?" Vaughn added wryly.

"Holy Oedipal complex, Batman!" Eric whistled. "Man, that is just…twisted!"

"Tell me about it," Vaughn agreed.

"Did she know you were naked, though?"

"Oh, yeah, she knew. She made a point of letting me know that she knew," Vaughn replied with revulsion.

"Ew, now that is messed up…" Weiss shuddered, but then his eyes lit up with a mischievous twinkle. "Not to mention it's got to be some kind of record. I wonder how many guys can say they've exposed themselves to both his girlfriend's parents in less than two weeks time?"

"Eric…" Vaughn warned darkly.

Weiss immediately sobered. "Sorry, sorry…go on. You were naked…she was checking you out…then what?"

Eric's irreverent summation earned him another dirty look from Vaughn. "What?" Eric asked innocently.

"Anyway…" Vaughn continued, perturbed with his friend's mirth over his predicament, "So she informed me she had information for me…about Sydney."

"And you said…" Eric prompted.

"I basically told her to go to hell because we both knew she didn't really care about Sydney, only herself," Vaughn replied.

"Which I'm sure went over reeeeaaaallly well with Ms. Derevko."

"Yeah, not. I've got the bullet hole in my mattress to prove it."

"She shot at you!?"

"Let's just say she missed on purpose," Vaughn explained. "A warning."

"Greeeaaaat. Then what?"

"She persuaded me to listen to her story."

"Yeah? Like how?"

"She made me handcuff myself to the bed," Vaughn mumbled softly.

"What? What'd she do? I didn't hear what you said," Eric asked with a smile, leaning in closer to hear. If Vaughn was mumbling, he knew it had to be good.

"I said," Vaughn said louder, angrily, "that she made me handcuff myself to the bed."

Eric Weiss kept a straight face for exactly a half a second before he burst out laughing.