Michelle

A

Agent Hanna Bendal

Cadet
Okay, this was my first ever Alias fic, posted on sd-1.com and fanfiction.ne, just seeing how well it'll go down here.

Please bear in mind that this was written before I'd seen any episodes of series 2.


Disclaimers: …have you seen this on TV? No? Then you know that I have absolutely no influence with anyone who works on Alias.

A/N: This will probably switch from 1st to 3rd person perspective in some places. Also, it kinda re-tells part of the story, so you can skip over that part if you want, OK?


<u>Title:</u> Michelle

<u>Rating:</u> Probably PG, maybe PG-13

<u>Author:</u> Agent Hanna Bendal

<u>Genre:</u> Action/Adventure

<u>Spoilers: </u>None


*****


<u>Prologue:</u>


Michelle Sydney Vaughn. Not a taken name, even though I’m adopted, but a given name. A name given by my parents, whoever they are. All I know about them is what I’ve been told.

I was named Michelle, the female version of Michael, after my father, and Sydney after my mother. I don’t even know if they’re still alive. I wasn’t put into the WPP when they were captured; I was too young, only about a few months old, I wouldn’t even remember my old life.

I was moved from LA to London and put up for adoption, keeping my old name. The reasoning behind this was that only my parents knew I actually existed, so they would be the only ones who would recognize my name. If their (and my) enemies ever knew my name, and who I really was, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill me.

At the moment, I live with a woman, about thirty-five years old, and her two cats. She’s called Sarah Watson, but has insisted that I caller her ‘mum’, just to keep up the act of being a family. She’s got wavy blond hair, reaching down to her shoulders, and deep, chocolate-brown eyes. Her two cats are both female, once called Dallas, (the pure-black one) and the other Charlotte (the tortoiseshell).

We live in the suburbs of London, not too far away from the city, but not too close to the country-side either. Most of the houses in our estate look pretty much the same, the only difference being in color; a white one here, pale yellow, even a robin’s-egg blue somewhere.

I don’t have many friends at the local school, probably because I’m not with the ‘in’ crowd. Unlike most of the people in that crowd, I actually want to get a good education, maybe work with animals or robots, if I can. I’ve given up my dreams of becoming a vet, because I’m not that good at most of the subjects I do (I can just scrape through with B’s and C’s) and I need to get A’s and such to be able to become a vet.

If you saw me walking down the street, you wouldn’t think that I was anything special at all. All you’d see would be a fairly tall thirteen year old, with shoulder-length hair, mid-way between blond and brown, and piercing green eyes. Normally, I’d be wearing jeans and a tee shirt, possibly a jacket, but not that often. I have a few close friends, but no one knows the whole truth about me, or my parents.

That is because of three people. Three people had ruined any chances of me growing up with my biological parents.

Sark.

Sloane.

Irina.

I know this from Sarah, who occasionally still works for the CIA, even after being located with the WPP. She had only been there a few months before she had to be relocated, courtesy of Sark.


<i>~Flashback~

They stormed the building. The CIA building. There had been no warning: this was a top-secret mission. Only one person knew that it was ever going to happen before that day. That was Sark.

A few agents, determined to stop Sark, tried to defend against his attack, but ended up being shot, injured, left to die. Sarah was one of the injured; shot in her arm. Sydney and Vaughn were, fortunately, on a mission, and didn’t hear about the break-in. Until they came back. All of the surviving agents were relocated on the WPP, but it didn’t save either Sydney or Vaughn.

*****

No one ever knew what happened to both of them; they were just never seen again. Michelle was found, huddled in the corner of the house, sobbing and crying out for her parents, but there was no sign of either Sydney or Vaughn.

~End Flashback~</i>


The thing which really makes me laugh about my family, or what used to be my family, is the truth about my grandparents. My paternal grandfather was murdered by my maternal grandmother, which in itself sounds like it could be a good basis for a soap opera.

My parents had met through circumstance, after my mother had told her fiancé about SD-6, supposedly a section of the CIA, and he was then killed. She then went to the real CIA, and there met my father, who became her handler. You can probably guess the rest from there.


“Michelle, get the door!” Sarah yelled at me through the house, after the doorbell had been ringing for five minutes flat.

“OK, OK, I’ll get it, jeez!” I muttered, dumping the book I was reading onto the floor and walking towards the door. I glanced out of the living room window, seeing if I recognized the person who was standing at the door. He was tall, possibly about 6’1” at the most, and had short spiky blond hair with light brown, more like hazel eyes.

“Hello?” I said opening the door, freezing when I recognized him. . .

TBC…
 
wooooooooooooooooooow!!!
you flipped the appearance of v and s aound haven't u???
lol
love it can i get a pm wen u update?
thanx!!!
can't wait 4 more!
 
Okay, I seriously hope you can forgive me for the lateness of this!


Title: Michelle
Rating: Probably PG, maybe PG-13
Author: HoneyB
Genre: Action/Adventure
Spoilers: None (All I can spoil is Season 1, because it’s the only one I’ve seen!)


Chapter 1:

“Hi,” he said simply, just looking at me.

No, this can’t be possible! I thought to myself. He’s dead! He can’t be standing here!

“Sorry.” I replied eventually, moving so that I wasn’t blocking the door. “Would you like to come in?” I asked, trying not to look like a complete idiot.

“I suppose so.” He replied, walking in.

“Michelle, honey, who is it?” Sarah asked, walking down the stairs, wrapped in a bath robe and drying her hair with a towel.

“Oh, it’s…just a new neighbor.” I said, glancing at him. “He just came round to say hello.” I commented, while in my head, it was a different matter. Appearing calm on the outside, inside I was panicking.

He can’t be standing here, he’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead. I thought to myself, repeating it over and over again like a mantra. Since Sarah knew who I was, how can she fail to know who he is? She’s bound to know!

“Oh, that’s nice.” Sarah replied, walking into the kitchen without even bothering to look at him.

“Do you drink tea, coffee or soft drinks?” She asked him, and I heard the familiar clanking of china against the worktop.

“A soft drink would be fine.” He replied. “Preferably Coca-Cola if you have it.”

“Michelle?” Sarah asked.

“I’ll have the same.” I replied quickly, wanting to get this confrontation over with. I walked into the living room, picked up my book, and started reading. Or pretending to. My eyes kept flicking over to the new-comer, who was busy looking out of the windows into the back garden, where Dallas was trying to catch a bird or something similar.

I sighed, giving up reading after only a minute, and switched the TV on, turning it over to MTV.

How can he just sit there so calmly? I thought, glancing over at him. He knows everything I do, so why isn’t he beginning to freak out already? My thoughts were interrupted when Sarah walked into the room, carrying two glasses of coke, and promptly dropped them when she noticed who our guest was.

“William?” she gasped, not noticing that a large part of the cream carpet was now being stained brown, and glass shards were scattered all around her.

“What are you doing here?” I hissed at him, talking freely since Sarah knew who he was.

“Looking for you.” He replied calmly, as if the events of the past few minutes hadn’t happened.

“Well, why didn’t you…” I was interrupted by Sarah who, by now, had regained her senses.

“Well, this is a nice surprise. Unexpected, but nice all the same.” She said, walking over to the sofa and sitting down.

“It would be better if we knew how all of this happened.” I replied, turning my head from looking at Sarah to now looking at William. “I thought you were dead!” I said, tears beginning to form.


~Flashback~


“Where is he?” Michelle heard voices say all around her, and she glanced up, tear marks still visible down her cheeks, clutching her teddy bear as if it were her only life-line.

“I can’t find him or Michelle, either.” Another voice replied, seeming nearer than the first one.

“What would they want with them?” The first voice asked, puzzled. Michelle started sobbing again, the noise drew the people towards her.

“Michelle?” A male voice said, and she recognized it as her grandfather’s. Holding her bear, she crawled over to him, and Jack picked her up. She turned her face away so that she couldn’t see anyone else.

“I’ve found Michelle.” Jack said into his communicator. “But, so far, there’s been no sign of William.”


~End Flashback~


There had been no sign of him after the attack on the house, and everyone had thought him dead. Until now.

“Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.” He said, with a small smile.

“Why now?” I asked, and he knew what I meant. Why show up now, years after the attack? Why make everyone think that you’re dead, and then they find out you’re not?

Sarah was staying out of the conversation, knowing that it was especially personal to me.

“I honestly don’t know.” He replied, and with that, I calmly walked out of the room and into the garden, pretending not to care. Night had fallen, and I sat in the old swing that was in the garden, staring up at the stars, attempting to loose myself in my own world.

A world where there was no SD-6, where there was no attack, where my parents were still alive, where…

William walked outside, and stood by my side, looking up at the stars, like I was. I sighed, and began thinking again.

Where my brother was still my brother, and not a stranger to me.


TBC…











Title: Michelle

Rating: Probably PG, maybe PG-13

Author: Agent Hanna Bendal

Genre: Action/Adventure

Spoilers: None (All I can spoil is Season 1, because it’s the only one I’ve seen!)


Chapter 2:


“So, what made you come looking for me now?” I asked, gently swinging back and forth, waiting for his answer.

“I’m not sure myself, to be honest.” He said, shrugging and sitting down on the grass. “I guess I just wanted to know how my little sister was getting on. They gave me clearance.” There was no need to ask who they were, it was the CIA.

“No leads then?” I asked him, and he shook his head. I sighed. Our parents had been two of the best agents they could have and, in one short day, they had gone missing. Some people at the CIA were still looking for them, but had practically given up hope.

“So, how long have you been working there?” I asked casually, looking back up at the sky. There was a full moon out; bathing everything it touched in its dim silver glow, including the garden.

“Not too long, a month at the most.” He paused, and turned to look at me, and I stopped swinging.

“What?” I asked him suspiciously.

“They want to make you an agent.” He replied simply, as if we were just discussing the prospects of me getting a job at the local supermarket.

“What?” I shrieked, standing up and towering over him, a mixture of fear and anger apparent on my face. “Come on; tell me that you’re joking!” I pleaded, but his face was devoid of any hint of amusement.

“I wish I were.” He said, barely above a whisper. Hearing those words, I slumped down onto the grass, my hands on my knees, willing him to look at me.

“Will,” I whispered, and he looked at me. “They can’t be serious. I’m thirteen. I’m barely even a teenager! What help can I possibly be to them?” I said, my voice getting louder with every passing syllable. Will just ignored me, turning to look at the ground, pretending that I hadn’t even asked him anything.

“William Daniel Vaughn, look at me!” I half-screamed at him, and I got the desired result. His head snapped back up, and glared at me.

“Why are you asking me these questions? What makes you think that I know more about this than I should? They,” he swung an arm back, possibly to indicate both America and the CIA, “are offering you a chance to find your parents, and you’re refusing?!”

“They are not just ‘my parents’, they are yours as well!” I replied, just as angrily, standing up and looking him in the eyes. “I know I want to find them, but do you really think me entering into this profession will help?” Will flinched, seeing the anger and determination in my eyes, but managed to keep his voice more level than me.

“No, I don’t think it will help, I know it will.”

“For God’s sake Will, I’m only thirteen! How useful do you think a thirteen year old will be to anyone, let alone them?” I argued, remembering to keep my voice down, making sure that no one could over-hear.

“Very useful, because you’ll be less suspicious on a mission. You’ll also be trained for longer before going out onto the field, and so will have more practice.” He replied firmly, as if nothing I could or would say would change his mind.

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this!” I half-whispered to myself, looking at my brother in shock.

“You should. Parts of the Alliance are still functional, and we need all the help that we can get, including you if necessary.”

“So, tell me this, then: how many other thirteen year olds are they employing?” I spat, refusing to be pulled into this charade without further information.

“I don’t know. As far as I know, you’re the only one so far.” Before he’d even got to the end of the second sentence, I had walked off, refusing to hear any more of this.

“Michelle,” I heard Will saying, but I completely blanked him.

How could he come here after nearly thirteen years of not knowing if he was alive or dead, acting like nothing had changed, dropped this bombshell onto me, and expect me to accept it?

I felt someone grab my left arm mid-way between my elbow and my shoulder and pull me back, forcing me to look at him.

“Michelle,” he repeated, and I looked down at the ground, trying to evade his gaze. “You’re the only person they really trust to go through with this; they know you wouldn’t betray them.”

“What?” I said, my head snapping up to look at him. “Betray them? What are you talking about?”

“They think there’s a mole in the organization, and they think that’s how our parents were captured. Whoever it is, they must be working for the KGB or something similar.”

“So they’re bringing in new agents, agents that they can trust not to betray them.” I said, watching Will nod in agreement.

“That’s why I became an agent, they were finding people that they could trust, people whose relatives had worked for them, and not been under suspicion at all.”

“Like our parents.” I whispered simply, and watched Will begin to walk back into the house. “Wait!” I called out to him, and he did, just inside the kitchen. “How do I tell them my decision? How do I contact them?” I asked, uncertain.

“You have a week to decide, and then you will be contacted once again.” He stated simply, before walking out of the front door and disappearing down the road. Noticing a small box sitting on the kitchen table, I picked it up and opened it. Out fell two things; a silver cross on a necklace, and a note. I hastily picked up the note and began reading it.


Michelle,

If you can read this, then you are now a CIA agent, and something has happened to me and your mother. Keep this safe, as it is your link to us.

Love you

Michael and Sydney Vaughn


TBC…















Title: Michelle

Rating: Probably PG, maybe PG-13

Author: Agent Hanna Bendal

Genre: Action/Adventure

Spoilers: None (All I can spoil is Season 1, because it’s the only one I’ve seen!)


Chapter 3:


“Hello? Michelle? Are you even alive in there?” Someone asked me and, getting no reaction whatsoever, jabbed me in the ribs.

“Huh? What? What was that for?” I asked, confused, jerking my head up from the desk.

“It might help, Miss. Watson,” my names Vaughn, not Watson “if you didn’t fall asleep in my lessons.” The teacher, Mr. Miller commented, and the whole class turned around to stare at me. Mumbling something that vaguely sounded like an apology, I looked up at the board, hoping that I looked like I was ready to work, not collapse at the first chance I got.

“What was he talking about?” I whispered to my friend, Dinah. “I didn’t hear him.”

“That was pretty obvious, especially when you started snoring.” She said playfully.

“I do not snore!” I replied, full of indignation.

“Yeah, you do. And you drool as well.” Dinah finished, trying her best to smother a smile.

“So, what was he telling us?” I asked again. Absent-mindedly, I began to fiddle with my necklace, once again thinking about my parents, my brother, and the CIA. One thought kept on coming back to me time and time again: how were they going to make sure that I could go on missions, if that was what they wanted, unless I was going to be a desk-jockey.

I was shook out of my stupor when the bell rang, signaling the end of lessons, and, this time, the end of a school day. Grateful, I gathered up all of my stuff, and hurried out of the door, wanting to get home to some sort of normalcy in my life. Slowing down, I ticked off the days in my head, and swore silently.

Do I accept, or don’t I? I thought to myself, knowing full well that my week of deciding was up today, and I had to choose how I was going to live my life.

“I’ll accept.” I said silently to myself, hoping that no one had heard me. I walked out of the main entrance, shielding my eyes from the glare of the sun, praying that I was about to make the right decision about my life.


*****


“Are you sure you want to do this?” Sarah asked me for the millionth time that evening.

“Yes, I’m sure.” I replied, picking up Charlotte and beginning to stroke her. “If this is one of the few ways that I’m going to be able to find my parents, then so be it. They’d do the same for me.” At least, I think they would, judging from what I’ve heard.

“Alright, if you’re certain about this.” She replied, standing up and answering the door.

Take a good look around, Michelle, I thought to myself, looking around the room. I took in every single detail that I could: the framed photos on the mantle piece of me and Sarah, some of the cats, one of when we went to Chessington and went on a rollercoaster (“Never again!”), the fireplace that was nestled in the corner of the room, the keyboard that I’d got when I was ten, a couple of books lying around the room (James Patterson, The Beach House, Martine Cole, Maura’s Game), and more items that I can’t even begin to mention.

This will probably be one of the very few times you’ll see this place, if at all. You’ve made your choice, for better or worse, now we’ll just have to see how it plays out.

“OK, since when did I start talking about myself in the third person?” I muttered to myself, oblivious to the fact that Will was standing in the doorway, waiting for me.

“Ready?” He asked, once I’d finally noticed him.

“Yeah, I’m coming.” I replied, diving upstairs to grab my bags. I’d packed everything that I thought I’d need the night before for a new life half-way across the globe.

Walking into my room, I picked up a small photo that I’d had ever since I was a baby. It was a picture of my parents, Will, and me. My mother was holding me in her arms, and looking at the camera, smiling. My farther had his arm around her shoulders protectively, and his free hand on Will’s shoulder (he’d been about five back then). They were all smiling at the camera.

Did you know? Did you know that in a few months all of our lives would be ruined, our family split up, not knowing if any of the others survived?

I looked up, wiping the tears that were running down my face away, hoping that my eyes weren’t red, and turned around.

“You don’t have to join; you do know that, don’t you?” Sarah asked, hoping to change my mind.

“I’ve already decided, and nothing you or anyone else will say is going to change my mind!” I said forcefully, picking up my backpack and shoving the photo into one of the pockets, zipping it up and putting it on my back. “They’d do the same for us, so why shouldn’t we do it for them?” I said, pushing past her and walking down the stairs, bag in tow.

“You’ll find them.” Sarah said abruptly, and I turned around to look back up at her. “I know you will, if you believe you can.” Confused, I shook my head, and walked out into the car, to start my new life.


TBC…


OK, the next chap will jump to about four or five years into the future so that Michelle will be old enough to be a proper agent.



Sorry to leave you hanging, but I think three chapters will be enough for now :P

Update next Thursday, unless something goes wrong!

Hanna 🦊
 
Guess what? It's Thursday

Guess what? I've got an update

Guess what? It's got a cliffhanger!





Title: Michelle

Rating: Probably PG, maybe PG-13

Author: Agent Hanna Bendal

Genre: Action/Adventure

Spoilers: None


Chapter 4:


~Five years later~


“It should be somewhere in the next room.” A voice told me over the comm. link and I nodded on instinct, knowing full well that he couldn’t hear me. Hearing some guards walking along, I flattened myself against the wall, trying to make myself invisible.

“Will, I thought you said all of the guards had been taken care of!” I whispered into the comm. link as soon as the guards had disappeared down the adjoining corridor.

“So did I.” He replied, and I could hear the tapping of fingers on a keyboard. “Apparently the item’s still in the same room, you just need to get there in one piece.”

“I know the drill.” I replied, whispering before moving from my place next to the wall and into the corridor, still scanning for possible threats.

“Michelle,” I heard someone say, and I instantly sprung into a defensive stance.

“Will, did you hear that?” I asked nervously. Agents should not be hearing things!

“Hear what?” He replied, confused.

“That whispering.”

“Michelle, just ignore it. We need this Rambaldi piece before anyone else can get to it!” That shook me out of my stupor, and I quickly came face to face with the door.


~~~~~


“Now, this looks like a credit card, right? The kind of thing teenage girls carry around all the time, you know, to pay for clothes and stuff when they hand it over to the shop assistants…” He trailed off when he say the look on Michelle’s face; a mixture of annoyance and amusement. “Well, anyway, if you come to a door that’s locked with a key, not a keypad, because you know that cards don’t work on those…anyway, you just slide it through the crack between the door and where the lock would be and, voila, it opens!”


~~~~~


I pulled the card out of my pocket, glad that this person didn’t use much security apart from a few guards, and slid it through the slit in the door. It immediately opened, and I entered the room, unsure of what to do now.

“Will? I’m in.” I whispered, glancing around the room briefly.

“Good. Now, do you see that painting of the tigers?”

“Yeah, I see it. Now what?”

“The Rambaldi piece should be behind it, held in place by the frame there. You just need to grab it and run.”

“Fine, piece of cake, not that it’ll stay that way for long…” I muttered to myself, walking over to the painting. Even though I don’t have much of an eye for art, this was a brilliant piece of work. Placing a hand at either end of the frame, I braced myself for the weight, and lifted it, pausing slightly.

“Piece. Of. Cake.” I repeated, ignoring the nagging feeling in my mind that it couldn’t, shouldn’t be this easy. Leaning over the frame, I could see the Rambaldi piece that we were looking for, and pulled it out carefully.

“Ok, maybe next time I shouldn’t be so optimistic!” I said sarcastically, as a deafening alarm screeched throughout the entire building, alerting the guards to my presence. Hurriedly, I replaced the painting, knowing that it wouldn’t do much other than buy me a few seconds of time, and looked around the room, panicking.

“Try the air vents!” Will all but screamed at me through the comm., and I glanced up. Just above the desk was a conveniently-placed air vent. Not one to complain, I jumped up onto the desk, took out a screwdriver, and took off the grate. Climbing in, I took the grate with me, placing it over the entrance. Hopefully, by the time they realized that it was un-screwed, I’d be long gone.

“There’s no one here, sir.” I heard one of the guards say, and I breathed a silent sigh of relief. I crawled along the air vent silently until I was sure that they’d left, and collapsed, glad that I’d managed to do the mission successfully.

“Did you get it?” Will asked, and I just realized that he’d been asking me for the past three minutes.

“Yeah, I got it.” I replied breathlessly, but with a small smile playing on my lips. “Mission successful.”


*****


The small video screen replayed the last movements of Michelle; unscrewing the air vent and climbing in.

“This time I let her go, that piece was not important to us. Of course, you know how close they came to finding her. I’d say she’s a bit of a risk-taker, wouldn’t you agree?” A man asked in a British accent, his face hidden in shadows, looking at the person who was tied up in the chair. It was a woman, but she was hanging her head, her brown hair obscuring her face from view.

“No answer? Well, I never expected one anyway.” He replied, as the video began its loop of the mission again. “Now, you are aware of what we know about her, so we can make it easier on both of us by telling me what we don’t know about her.” Again, there was no answer.

“Take her back, maybe we can ask her next time, when this person,” he indicated towards the screen, “has the pleasure of being in our company.” The woman’s head shot up at this, her brown eyes glaring furiously at the man.

“You are well aware of what we’re capable of, Sydney Vaughn. Next time, we won’t be so blind.” He replied, walking out of the room, leaving with a cold stare of his blue eyes at Sydney.


TBC…
 
EVIL...You AND Sark are EVIL! :P Great job, this is totally awesome. I bet Sydney was thrilled to see her daughter though, even though it was over the screen and it was her living the life she had probably dreaded for her to live. But, that was excellent!!! :D
 
*sigh* Believe it or not my computer crashed. Again. As soon as I get it back and working I'll update.

I am not leaving you on this cliffhanger intentionally.
 
Reader Responces



Alias Fan Gillian - Thanks for replying!

amisha - Yes, that was Sark. Yes, he has Sydney. Keep reading, and You'll find out about Vaughn (though you may not like it :P)

aliasgirl89 - I'm not the kind of person who leaves huge plot holes! Have patience!

aliasjunkie4ever - I'm evil? I don't think I've ever been called that before! Yes, Sydney was thrilled to see her daughter, considering the last time she saw her was 18 years ago! Glad you think it was excellent, but, IMO, I could re-write it and make it better if I wanted to.

Okay, my computer crashed as you probably saw, so here's two new chapters of 'Michelle' for you!


A/N : OK, since I live in London, I have absolutely no ideas about what the LA highways are like, so don’t blame me if it’s wrong!



Chapter 5:



“Did you get it?” Will asked from the driver’s seat as I collapsed into the back of the van.

“Did you ever doubt me?” I said, grinning and holding up the Rambaldi piece.

“What?” Will asked me, seeing me frown.

“I’m not sure.” I replied, shrugging. “It just seemed a little too easy to me. Oh, just forget about it!” I said, shrugging again and grinning. “We got it, and that’s all that matters.”

“Yeah, well, remember that Devlin will want to de-brief you when we get back.” Will reminded me, and that wiped the smile off of my face. Going into a meeting with him was never very enjoyable at the best of times, especially since I was now on the receiving end. He kept a close eye on any agents, especially new agents, always on hyper-alert for the mole. After my parent’s ‘disappearance’, the mole seemed to have either resigned from the CIA or managed to avoid being detected.

Fortunately for both of us, the drive back to the JTF was uneventful, and I was glad for that. I could already feel the beginnings of a shoulder and back injury, which would, no doubt, be very painful the next day.

“Dumb guards,” I commented off-handedly, and earned a grin from Will. “What?” I asked, slowly revolving my shoulder to alleviate some of the pain that was already forming.

“Nothing,” he replied, smiling slightly, revealing his twin dimples. I just glared at him in the mirror until he gave in.

“Alright, it’s just the way you said it. You never swear!”

“And what’s wrong with that?” I asked suspiciously, but smiling nonetheless.

“I don’t know, it just seems weird.”

“Yeah, well, get used to it.” I replied, looking at the paper I’d just retrieved. “I wonder what this says. It could be something about the prophecy.”

“Michelle, the prophecy’s ancient by now. Besides, you probably won’t be able to see it until we’ve exposed the page.”

“Yeah, your probably right.” I said, shrugging and putting it in my pocket, leaning against the van side, closing my eyes and trying to relax.

“Comfy?” Will asked sarcastically as a jolt hit my back and made me wince in pain.

“Do you want to know what real pain feels like?” I asked venomously, opening one eye and glaring at him. “If not, then shut up!” I snapped.

“Ok, what got you in such a bad mood?” Will asked, and immediately regretted it.

“Well, apart from the fact that I narrowly escaped being captured, I’ve now got two enormous injuries, dozens of bruises, I’ve had next to no sleep over the past week and have a biology exam in two days, yeah, apart from that I’m fine!” I said sarcastically, and will fell silent, heeding the message. I wasn’t kidding about any of that stuff either. Instead of being at home, revising for my exam, I was in LA tracking down a missing Rambaldi piece which would be of absolutely no interest and no use to me in the slightest.

The van swung wildly to one side, and I was thrown across, jarring both my shoulder and my back.

“Hey, Will, are you sure you passed Driver’s Ed?” I half-joked, knowing that his driving wasn’t normally this bad.

“Well, I’d like to see you try and pass it!” He replied, jerking the steering wheel, once again sending me sliding into the side. I bit down on my tongue to avoid crying out in pain. I managed to scramble up to the front of the van, sitting in the passenger seat and fastening my seat belt before we were hit again.

“Ok, I’m guessing that these people are not bugging us for autographs!” I commented, glancing back to look at the car that was following us. It was a black car, that’s all I could tell you. No license plate, no distinguishing marks on it, the kind of car that you could pass a million times without recognizing.

“You know, one of these days they’ll surprise us by showing that they’ve actually learned something about chasing agents!” I said, recognizing the tactics the driver was using.

“You’d better hold on to something.” Will warned suddenly, and I had barely enough time to grab onto something, let alone think about what he was attempting to do. Yanking the steering wheel hard to the right, the van veered onto the grassy slope on the side of the highway. We cut a clear path through the other cars, their horns honking and their drivers yelling, but not causing an accident.

“Will, what the f*** do you think you’re doing?!” I yelled at him and, surprisingly, he smiled.

“Well, at least you swore then!” He joked, the van screeching to a halt. I chanced a hurried look backwards, and smiled briefly. The traffic pile-up that we’d caused had prevented the driver of the black car from following us any further. Enraged, the driver pushed his door open, got out, and started yelling obscenities at us from the middle of the highway.

“Is it just me, or do these people live in little, isolated groups so that no knowledge is ever shared between them? I swear, they get dumber and dumber everyday!”

“I agree, but we’d better get back before Devlin sends out a search team for us.” He remarked lightly, knowing that Devlin wouldn’t chance loosing any more agents.

“Yeah, you’re right.” I replied dejectedly, coming down of the adrenalin high that I was on moments ago. “We’d better report this as well.” I said, jerking my thumb behind me to indicate the driver.

“Why bother? He’s just a…” The next words were cut off by the sound of an exceptionally loud horn.

“I think we’d better get going before someone links this accident to us!” I said, and we drove down the slope and onto the highway, still grinning.

TBC....





A/N: This chapter might seem a little weird, but bear with me, OK? It’s only a filler



Chapter 6:



“De-briefing? They should rename it interrogation!” I mumbled, walking out of Devlin’s office. Trust me; two hours of sitting in the same place answering irrelevant questions will drive anyone insane!

“Well, whoever it was, they certainly knew we were CIA agents.” Will commented, appearing next to me as I walked back to the hole in the wall they called my office.

“Have I ever mentioned that I hate paper-work?” I asked rhetorically, picking up the wad of papers on my desk and absent-mindedly flicking through them.

“All the time.” Will remarked, grinning, just before I threw the nearest item that I could get at him: a stapler. Catching it, he placed it back on the desk, as far away from me as possible.

“At least I got your attention now.” I said, smirking. “I’m supposed to be at home, in London, revising for an exam which, if I fail, I fail the whole class!”

“You finished complaining?” Will asked a few moments later, after I appeared to have calmed down.

“Slightly.” I replied, picking up a book that I was half-way through and began reading it, putting my feet up on the desk. “What?” I hissed a few minutes later when Will yanked the book from my hands. He nodded to the door, and I noticed that Devlin was approaching. Hastily, I grabbed the papers that had been left on my desk and began reading them, trying to look as if I had been working.

“Vaughn?” Devlin asked as soon as he opened the door, peering inside.

“Yes?” Both Will and I said at the same time, looked at each other, and grinned.

“Will Vaughn,” Devlin clarified, walking out of the room.

“Good luck with your interrogation!” I said brightly, and Will just glared at me, throwing the stapler back at me before walking out. I just laughed silently, and began searching the desk for something. Finding the box, I took out the necklace I’d found/been given five years ago, and put it around my neck. Wearing it on a mission was too dangerous, as it could go missing. On one side were the initials S.A.V and M.C.V, the initials of my parents and on the other side were the initials M.S.V and W.D.V, for me and Will.

Swinging my chair around, I logged onto the terminal that was stationed in my office and looked at my e-mail account: a couple of junk e-mails, one from Emode, some from fanfiction.net where I’ve been working on some fics of my own and one from fictionpress.net.

“Ok, is it just me, or does everyone seem to grind to a halt on Tuesdays?” I muttered to myself, deleting all of them except the ones from fanfiction.net and fictionpress.net.

I started aimlessly surfing the net, looking for something interesting to do, or even look at until I could go home. Giving up on that idea, I logged onto a revision website, hoping that I’d be able to learn something before I was sent on yet another pointless mission.

I know what that sounds like, and I don’t regret making this decision at all, it’s just that for the past few years we’ve been following up ghosts of rumors about our parents, either that, or finding Rambaldi pieces which, to me, seem absolutely worthless.

“Ok, let’s see if I can do this right.” I commented, looking at the questions which had appeared on the page.



In an investigation of the light dependant reaction of photosynthesis, chloroplasts were placed in a tube containing water in which some of the molecules were labeled with 180 (H2180). The tube had a few drops of DCPIP, a hydrogen acceptor, added.



DCPIP is a blue dye which goes colorless when reduced. All carbon dioxide was removed from the tube.



The tube was exposed to light. After one hour the air space above the chloroplast suspension was found to contain molecules labeled with 180. The DCPIP had turned from blue to colorless.



a) Explain:



(i) The presence of the 1802 in the tube;



(ii) Why the DCPIP turned colorless.



b) Name the two products produced in the light dependant reaction that are used in the light independent reaction.



“What are you doing?” Will asked me, making me just about a meter in the air before I regained control.

“Revising, what does it look like?” I replied sarcastically, and he put his hands up in mock-surrender.

“Looks complicated.” He commented, peering at the screen.

“Check the next one.” I replied, before standing up and starting to walk out of the room.

“Devlin called a meeting.” Will informed me. I just rolled my eyes. “An important meeting!”

“Hey, the last time I heard those ill-fated words was just before we went on our last mission which, by the way, only ended a few hours ago! I am not running across the globe looking for yet another Rambaldi piece!”

“Trust me, this is important.” Will replied, and I leaned against the door frame.

“Enlighten me, then.” I commented.

“It’s about Michael Vaughn. Our father.”



TBC…
 
Yay!!!!!! Vaughn's back!!!!! well sort of anyways not that I know how your mind works lol. Great two chapters yay!!!!!! It wasnt until Devlin asked for Vaughn and they both answered that I remembered who Will was, I mean i remembered Michelle had a brother but not his name. SpySiblings kicking Ass! Yay!

Can't wait for your next update!
E
 
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