Maroon

WOW...more than 1 update!!!!! :woot:
-That scene between Syd and Vaughn was totally hot!!! I'm glad they are in the 'hope' phase!!!! :D
But I'm really not liking Weiss at the moment...I know he's just trying to be a good friend...but still...I'm sure he will change his mind once he gets to know her!!! :angelic:
-And YA they thing with Sloane went well!!!
Can't wait for more!! Thanks for the pm!!!
 
Those were great updates... soooo good.
I don't want weiss to make syd nad vaughn break up though. He is all she has and now weiss is gunna ruin it:( i'm really excited for the next chaps! :smiley: (y)
 
UPDATE-TIME!
Thanks for the sweet reviews. And I hope that you'll enjoy the next few chaps.

Love, Danuta


Chapter 29 – Sleep, sleep...and maybe dream?

As soon as she could hear his key in the lock, Sydney stormed to the door. Yanking it open, a completely tired Vaughn was revealed and it took her only a minute to jump into his embrace. This left him speechless, his strong arms encircling her waist, pressing Sydney’s light body against his. Instantly a bright grin was plastered on Vaughn‘s face when he smelled the unique scent of Sydney Bristow. It had been an illusion that they could go backwards. They had overstepped a line that was too important to be forgotten again. They had chosen the waters they were in. And it wasn’t making any difference what was right or wrong – they both deserved this and probably so much more.

“You know, you can go“ Sydney joked lightly, breaking the silence. Her slender legs were slung around Vaughn‘s waist, face pressed against the crook of his neck. But this one sentence had a double-meaning both of them were aware of. He could go anytime he wanted. But Sydney prayed to heaven that he wouldn’t take the chance.

“Oh I’m allowed to“ Vaughn laughed, taking the hint and stepping into the flat. With Sydney in his arms, he plopped down onto the couch. The flight had been long and dreadful – too many delays, the day far too hot, his mind too overactive. But now he was finally here and ‘yesterday‘ was just a fading memory. His hand rubbing her back, Vaughn felt Sydney soon relax in his embrace, her breathing soft and even.

“I am happy that your back” she mumbled like a small girl, pleased that her father’s back after a long business journey.

“Me too.” And his content sigh said more than any word could.

Leaning back, so that she could face him, Sydney straddled Vaughn’s lap.
And for a moment, just for a moment, the conversation with Eric flooded her mind, making her look down in shame. His words echoing in her ears loudly she felt guilty.

Probably, Weiss had been right.
Probably, she would hurt him.
Probably, she was Vaughn’s downfall.
Probably, they would hate each other.


Framing Vaughn’s face with her hands and placing a chaste kiss on his lips Sydney felt the realization sweeping over her.
‘Probably’ was just a word. And damn herself, but she was just too selfish to let him go.
Sinking back in her lovers embrace, Sydney pressed her lips against his one more time, enjoying the feeling of being whole again. Deepening the kiss slowly but with much passion, she let herself fall from grace. If this was the price, she would pay it.

When you’ve got no one to love, you’ve got nothing to loose.

And she wanted to win. This war, her life, his heart.

***

The following days were full of hollow meetings, hopeless discussions, steaming coffee cups, and only one fact: They knew nothing. Well, that wasn’t completely right.
1. They knew that Irina Derevko had the positions of their Agents stationed in Poland. – Why, theyy didn’t know.
2. They knew that Irina Derevko was building a machine. – What kind of machine this was, they didn’t know.
3. They knew that Irina Derevko had a warehouse in Warsaw. – Where exactly, they didn’t know.
4. They knew that Irina Derevko wanted Sydney to fall into the CIA’s hands. – Why, they didn’t know.
All in all, there were more questions than answers and this frustrated Sydney. To sit in some grungy safe house somewhere in the pampas wasn’t her idea of life. But it seemed as if her current life was only consisting of waiting. Seconds. Minutes. Hours. Days. When nothing happens, only short seconds can seem to last an eternity. The ticking of the clock can sound as tedious as waiting for the world to go under.
They say that time is a healer. For her, it’s pure torture.

Standing in front her “investigation”- wall Sydney sighed, frustrated. Vaughn had proposed that she collect every piece of information they had, and fasten it to the wall. Collecting, sorting, arranging, and fastening. It had sounded like a good idea, but Sydney realized that it had been just an occupation for her so that she wouldn’t get on his nerves.

Staring at the pictures of Sloane, Kowalski and other men they thought to be connected with Irina, Sydney recognized it was just a mess. Derevko seemed to be clever. Her missions, Agents, contacts were spread all over the world. No one knew where her headquarters was. No information about her family, about her past, about her lovers. Nothing. Sydney had never imagined that this one word could be so sinewy.
With each thought of Irina Derevko’s name, Sydney’s headache only increased. The pounding of her head was killing her.
Searching through the cupboard, it didn’t last long before she found the little dose with her aspirin. Yanking the lid open and taking two white pills out of the orange plastic, she tried to ignore the pain. One glass of water and a second later, the pills were swallowed down and the hope that the pain would ease was rising.

“Hey, headache again?” Coming into the room, Vaughn observed Sydney massaging her temple with closed eyes.

“Yes.”

It troubled him that she was in so much pain. The headache was her constant companion since they had met, and aspirin was her daily drug. Running a hand through his dark blonde strands, he watched her, worried. “Maybe we should bring you to a doctor.”

“Because of the headache?” she laughed, but the vibration of her laughter seemed to hurt her even more, so Sydney just sat down with her head in hands. This constant bum, bum, bum was stealing her last nerve. “It’s just temporary. I had this before. They last a few weeks and then everything is okay again.”

Sitting down next to Sydney, Vaughn gently stroked her hair, careful not to increase the pain. “I know” he admitted, thinking of the little white bottle in his bag. “I’ve had headaches since I was a teenager. It sucks, but my doctor gave me pills against the migraines. Since then, I’m quite happy.”

Glancing up, a tiny smile enlightened Sydney’s face as she asked innocently:
“Migraines? And I thought only women get those.”

Taken aback, Vaughn answered in earnest: “It’s a very common disease.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” Her hands up in a gesture to surrender, Sydney intertwined their fingers with each other, trying to ignore the sound of rolling stones in her head. “When I have headache, I’m a b****. Sorry. I think it would be a good idea to lay down a bit. I probably need just a good night of rest.”

“You’ve worked hard the last days. Now it’s your turn to relax. Go and sleep tight.”

“Okay, but you come and get me when breakfast is ready. Don’t you dare to forget me” Sydney answered playfully.

He didn’t wait one second before he responded: “I could never forget you Sydney Bristow.” Since when was he so kitschy? But the answer had come naturally from his lips. Like he had said it once before.

“Michael, you’ll let me go?” Sydney’s voice interrupted his thoughts, giggling sweetly, as she pointed at their laced fingers.

Placing a soft kiss on her knuckles, Vaughn let go of her hand, watching Sydney walking slowly to the bedroom.

“Ah, and before I forget it.” Turning around, she stopped in front of the door. Leaning against the frame she added with a smile: “There’s chocolate in the left drawer. I know how addicted you are, and thought you would like some.” With these words, she entered her room and shut the door softly, so that no sound would slice through her head.

Stunned, Vaughn waited a few moments before he took the chocolate out of the drawer and inspected it with an accuracy only a connoisseur could. The maroon paper was wrapped around the light brown chocolate barrel. Golden flowers adorned the front in an old-fashioned way, and slung their way around in bold letters:

Caramel crispies.

She had been right. He had loved chocolate. He had eaten it every day. But he hadn’t eaten chocolate since he’d started training at “the Farm”. Not knowing what to think of this, he simply pushed these thoughts aside and concentrated on his work again. But something just wasn’t right. He could feel it running through his veins. This familiarity...

***
A rose. A blood red rose in Sydney‘s hand. She was standing in front of a grave. But it wasn’t a normal grave; it was so deep that she couldn’t make out the ground when she looked down. The black abyss seemed endless as she stood near the edge. So near that little pieces of earth fell in the dark hole. But she knew whose grave she visited.

“Mommy” Sydney whispered, her voice sounding like a ghost’s. It echoed loudly as if demons were answering her plea. Looking around, she noticed that she was alone. No one would help her anymore. Only black roses were plastering the whole lawn, like they grieved for her mother too. But she didn’t want to lose her. The casket began his slow descent - like the abyss wanted to swallow her mother.

“No please. Don’t leave me!” She didn’t care if she fell into the black hole, as long as she could be together with her mother. Taking a tentative step forward, she stumbled over the edge. Holding her breath and closing her eyes, she knew that she would follow her into the darkness. The arms of the haunting demons were reaching for her. Their faces horrifying masks, outstretched hands grasping her violently, trying to pull her down.
But a strong hand caught Sydney‘s and pulled her up again. Opening her eyes, Sydney stared at a fragile woman with blonde hair and lovely blue eyes that shushed her in French.

“But mummy wanted to teach me how to keep my balance on the ice.”

Cupping her cheek, the woman answered with a sweet smile. “I know, Cherié. But he waits for you.”

“Who?” The woman looked over Sydney’s shoulder and pointed at a spot behind her.
Turning around, Sydney didn’t notice anybody, but blood had begun to color the dead flowers. Looking down, she could see red drops falling down on the earth. The rose that was clutched tightly in her hand had begun to bleed. And it bleed and bleed. In the colors of the roses, cherries, burgundy, autumn leaves, maroon, red wine...A circle of red. Soon it covered her feet, hands, legs – it began to cascade down her cheeks, dropping in the sea of blood under her feet.

“Let it go, Syd.”

Letting go was hard. Opening her hand, the bloody rose felt in the dark grave and the sea of blood vanished. Only the thorns stuck in her pale, smooth skin. But she didn’t felt any pain. Closing her eyes, a few tears rolled down her cheeks. Crystal-clear tears. The tears of her lost innocence.

“Syd?“
This voice.
Even before she opened her eyes again, she could feel that something had changed. She could hear the birds sing, the smell of fresh grass was in the air, and she already felt safe. It was a warm and tingling feeling that rushed through her body, made her feel more alive and whole than anything before.

Glancing around in the room, she was left speechless. The walls glowed in a light yellow, painted flowers adorned one side of the big room. Dolls and stuffed animals sat on top of the rosé bedspread that covered the king-sized four-poster. And lots of pictures were attached on the wall beside a big mirror.
Suddenly, Sydney stood in front of the mirror, but instead of seeing her own reflection, it was like she was looking through the glass. A little girl, brown ponytail, big chocolate brown and frightened eyes, and a boy who looked like he was a few years older, lay together in a bed. The blonde boy hugged her tightly, and the angst vanished from his little friend’s face.

“I like that.”

“What?”

“To hear your heartbeat.”

“What!?“

Sydney could see how the little one rolled her eyes before she rolled on her stomach and looked the boy in the eyes.

“When you hugged me, Silly!” she squeaked, and sighed dramatically.

“But that ’‚heard your heartbeat’ was very girlish.”

“I am a girl.”

“No...you’re my ally. That’s something different.”

“I like to hear heartbeats, because I know that everything is alright and that you’re not leaving me, like mommy did.”

“Sleep, Syd, sleep. I’ll be here for you as long as my heart beats. I promise.”

“That’s me?” Sydney asked, curious, touching the smooth surface of the mirror, but in the moment her fingers brushed the cool glass, the reflection changed and she could see herself. Only clad in a black bra and matching pantyhose. Long curly hair a wild mess, and even the heavy make-up couldn’t conceal that she looked far younger.

“Like what you’ve seen?“ the dark and sweet voice of a man interrupted her thoughts. And she didn’t need to turn around. Her body knew who he was and her mind would too understand the proximity of this situation. Looking up, she spotted the reflected image of Michael Vaughn, who stood behind her, hands on her waist.

“Vaughn” she asked unsurely. How? When? Why?
His hands moved up and down, touching her breasts barely, before beginning his slow descent. Goosebumps raised all over body, heat ignited inside of her.

“You were right Syd” he whispered softly in her ear, their eyes connected through the glass of the mirror.

“About what?“ she breathed as she felt his lips barely touching her neck.

“The truth is against us”[/]



And with that, she woke up. Breathing heavily, her whole body covered in sweat, Sydney sat up straight and tried to regain some clarity.

‘It had been a dream. Just a dream. A dream and nothing more’, she soothed herself, and climbed out of the bed, not wanting to continue her journey in the dreams. She knew what would follow.
Sitting down on the window seat, she leaned her forehead against the cold glass and watched as her breathing misted over the window. What was wrong with her? Sighing deeply, she dared to close her eyes for a second, but the image of herself and Vaughn in the mirror had been burned in her mind.

‘The first man with green eyes, and you make him to your personal gigolo’ ,she thought with a slight smile, but knew that something different had changed her.
Sydney‘s problems with her new relationship with Vaughn had only added to her weakened state of mind. Maybe she was just desperate because she had lost everything and everyone. Including her desperate future and her deceiving ex-boyfriend. Now Vaughn was the only friend, ally and potential lover. He was one of the few who knew that she was alive. And well, they lived together, and he was really good looking, and nice, and sweet, and gentle, and everything. So it’s probably only normal that after their heated encounter in the bath her mind had chosen him to be the green-eyed man in her dreams.

Standing up, Sydney began to stride up and down the carpet. She had these dreams before him, and she would have them after him. So where’s the reason to overreact?
‘If Weiss has green eyes, you would probably dream about him too’ she reasoned with herself. ‘Well and, if he had Vaughn’s body’, she added in thoughts.
But something just wasn’t right. It was this voice deep inside of her that screamed loudly, telling her to stay alert, to search for the signs her overactive brain was trying to give her. The pictures were so real and intense that they had scared the felgercarb out of her. And she couldn’t afford to not be herself. Not now. Not in her situation.

Sighing loudly, she said to herself: “Maybe I should tell Vaughn about my dreams“ – Including her sexual fantasies.

He would probably understand her. He could even be excited. After all he’s a man.

‘Yeah sure, and then you could ask him if you could just do it already so that these dreams will stop’ her inner voice taunted her mercilessly, and Sydney couldn’t stop herself from laughing bitterly when she thought of the expression Vaughn would make.

She won’t say a word.

But Sydney knew that she needed to talk to someone about it. Soon. Very soon.

***

Chapter 30 – The naked truth

The cake was covered in dark chocolate. The sweet and heavy smell of sugar was filling the air. Eight candles were standing like soldiers on the cake, the flames flickering in the soft breeze of a sunny November day. The white snow was reflecting the sunlight and illuminated the wide living room. Everywhere sat smiling people. Their smiles brighter then the sunshine.

“Michél, cherie, you should blow out the candles.”
Looking up, eight-year-old Michael Vaughn noticed how his mother’s crystal blue eyes were glowing.
“And don’t forget to make a wish”, she added lovingly.

‘I wish that daddy will come home soon’

Without hesitating a second, Michael blew out the candles, but the last flame was stronger than his breath. It flickered constantly, but didn’t die. Wrinkling his forehead, Michael felt a tiny tear of desperation escaping his eye, but a strong grip on his shoulder prevented the drop of sorrow to brush over his rosy cheeks.

Leaning over his son’s shoulder, Bill Vaughn helped his boy to extinguish the flame.
Smiling broadly at Michael, he calmed him: “We Vaughn’s help each other. And I promise that your wish will come true”

Nodding fiercely, Michael gazed at the many presents that were covering the whole white-clothed table. Blue, yellow, red, green, orange, silver, gold...the packages were wrapped up in the colors of the rainbow. Only his eyes were glowing brighter. His hands reaching out to grasp the largest of the many presents, his father sent him a disapproving look.
“I think a few people would like to congratulate you first Michael.”

A young woman with a bouncing girl in her arms came to the boy and bent down to kiss him on the forehead. Her hand framed his face and he wasn’t sure, but a look of sorrow and guilt was darkening her features for a split second. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Fragile and strong in one person, snow white skin, big brown eyes, and dark hair cascading down her back in soft waves. She had the loveliest face – graceful and pure.

A girlish giggle interrupted their short moment and the small bundle in the woman‘s arms was throwing her chubby arms in the air. The girl wasn’t older than two, but even now it wasn’t hard to perceive that she would be as beautiful as her mother. The same eyes, hair, pale skin.

“Wanna hold her?”, the woman asked him, and he nodded proudly.
Soon the little girl was settled in his arms, their gazes connected in an affectionate way.

The woman eyed them carefully, a large dimpled smile grazing her face. “Oh, she loves you Mikey. Never forget it. This little princess here will make you the greatest present of all” With this, she garnered the boy’s attention. “Her heart is the greatest present you’ll ever receive”, she shushed, so that the other adults won’t hear her words. Brushing a few strands of hair out of the little boy’s face, she noticed how he studied her little daughter. Happy with the sight in front of her, the woman simply smiled when she heard Amélie whispering to Jack: “Wouldn’t it be cute if they become a couple when they’re older?”
Scrunching his face at the thought of being together with a girl, Michael noticed the soft and knowing smile on the woman’s face.

“What’s her name?”, Michael asked unsurely. He knew her. But why didn’t he know her name?

“But Michél, you know Laura’s girl”, his mother scolded him angrily, not knowing why her son was asking such a question.

“Her name is S....”



“Mike, wake up from dreamland!”, Weiss screamed loudly. Bolting up straight, Vaughn nearly bumped heads with Eric, who sat beside him. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Vaughn eyed his friend, suspicious.

“What are ya doing here?“, he asked before yawning sleepily.
Without answering his question, Eric asked him:

“Hope you had no wet dreams. “ Raising the soft linen sheet, Vaughn slapped his hand away.

“No, no, I dreamed of....nothing. Can’t really remember.“

“Oh I’m sure Sydney will be very relived when you aren’t dreaming of women sleeping with you anymore.“

“Shut up.“

Standing up, Eric went over to a big bag he had brought with him and began to unpack it. When he realized that sleep was just a dream, Vaughn stood up groggily and glided his fingers through his unruly hair.

“Don’t do that.“ Gesturing to his own dark hair, Weiss explained: “I pay hundreds of dollars to get your look.“

“I have never seen you in this look.“

“See, this is a gift of god. Never comb it.“

Shaking his head at their silly exchange, Vaughn went over to the small kitchenette and filled water and three spoons of coffee in the machine. Turning it on, he waited until the green light glowed constantly before he leant against the counter to observe his friend.

Noticing Vaughn’s attention, Eric asked jokingly: “Where’s our sleeping beauty?“, but his eyes swept over the used couch-bed and his smile only grew brighter. They hadn’t shared a bed, so they probably hadn’t slept together and with each other.

“I assume that Syd is asleep. You know the thing people usually do when it’s..“, glancing at the clock on the wall he added, not amused: “...half past six.“

“My, my, on this glory day there’s no need to sleep. You need to celebrate life. Your life to be specific.“ Jumping around in the small flat, he decorated everything with paper streamers and Chinese Lanterns.

“Oh no, Eric.“

Suddenly, the door to the bedroom yanked open, and a very sleepy and very worried Sydney appeared in the doorframe. Her messy hair was tied in a ponytail, trying to bring some structure into the mess. The tank top and sweatpants weren’t hiding much, and Eric was torn apart between glancing at her hungrily and angrily. No wonder Vaughn had problems with sleeping.

“Good morning, everybody“, she greeted them before noticing the few things that Eric had unpacked. There were balloons and a cake and a wrapped present.

“Who has birthday?“, she asked, panicked, thinking about the date.

“It’s Mike’s birthday. His 30th, to be exact.“

Surprised, Sydney’s gaze wandered from Vaughn to Eric and back again. “What? Why...“, she started, but stopped when she head her voice squeak. She just couldn’t understand this whole situation. “Why didn’t you tell me that you had birthday coming up?“, she hissed at Vaughn, her voice laced with slight anger, quickly replaced by disappointment. Her brown puppy eyes searching his, she sat on the couch: “I could have baked a cake. Now I don’t even have a present. Not that I would have the chance to buy one, but at least I could have tried to tinker something.“

Sitting down next to her, and patting her knee, Vaughn smiled gently as he lifted his eyes to meet her gaze and he softly responded. “Calm down Syd. I don’t like birthdays.“ Nobody likes birthdays if they remind you of the perishable-ness of life , he added in thoughts.

Hanging her head, Sydney replied: “It’s my fault. You’re locked in here with me. I’m sure that your parents would have loved to celebrate with you and your friends.“
Looking at her, stunned, it took Vaughn only seconds to realize the words she had said. How could he have forgotten? Squinting his eyes shut, he damned himself for being so stupid.

“Do you have it?“, he asked, his voice pressed and harsh.

“Sure, how could I forget it?“ Bending down to retrieve the letter from his bag, Eric gave it to his friend, watching him worriedly. Birthdays were always hard for Vaughn, and Eric could only hope that someday it would get better.

“Excuse me for a moment.“

And with these words, Vaughn was inside Syd’s bedroom and had shut the door loudly.
Sydney took some deep breaths and tried to understand what had happened. “What...what was that?“

“I don’t know if I should tell you.“

Standing up, Sydney crossed the distance between Eric and herself, before demanding in a sharp voice: “Talk. Now. Or I will get very unpleasant.“ Smirking down at her, Eric wanted to make a sarcastic comment, but seeing the fierce look in Sydney’s eyes he gulped hard before stepping back. This woman was rather....surreal. How can she be so strong and fragile and horrible and loving and frightening at the same time? Shaking his head, Eric studied the color of the carpet when he began to talk:

“Vaughn‘s parents are both dead. His father died shortly after his eighth birthday. After that, he shared a very strong bond with his mother. Amélie was a wonderful and strong woman. Everyone loved her. She died four years ago – of cancer. Nobody could help her, she suffered so much. It was hell for Mike to watch his mother die slowly. She spent her last weeks writing letters to him. For every birthday, there one. A notary is in receipt of them. I believe that Amélie has finished ten before she died.“

“So, he’s reading one of her letters now?“

Nodding shortly, Eric watched Sydney sinking into one of the chairs. A few chestnut tresses were falling in her flushed face, and she tucked them behind her ear.

“Sydney...“

And even if Eric’s voice was gentle and he only whispered her name, Sydney knew what would follow. Looking up, their eyes remained locked for a few moments. They weren’t friends. And he had told her what she should do. No...He had pleaded with her to leave Vaughn. And Eric wasn’t an idiot. Sydney was sure that he knew that nothing had changed between them. The game was still on. Thinking about a way to convince Eric of this relationship, she crossed her arms in a defensive manner.
She would be lost without Vaughn. How would she be able to face each new day without him helping her? And even if it was selfish...she couldn‘t be strong without him by her side. He was the only one who believed in her and where’s the sense in fighting if you can’t win?
They could talk this over. They were intelligent adults. They both loved Vaughn.
But when you love, you aren’t thinking rational. There’s no xobjective arguing. Facts and logic are losing pawns in this game.

“Please don’t“, Sydney whispered, her voice nearly breaking. There was no need to play the tough girl anymore. Only the naked truth counts. And it would be her turn to plead: ‘Please don’t make him leave me. Please don’t take him away from me. Please don’t do this to me.’ And she could tell Eric so much more. But by stating a simple, “I need him“, she confessed everything important.

First, Eric didn’t say anything. Sydney wasn’t even sure if she could read anything in his eyes. But after a few agonizing minutes of loud silence, he admitted softly: “I know.“

“How?“

“Because he needs you too. It’s written in his eyes. And if anyone knows Mike, than it’s me.“

“But you think it’s a mistake.“

Sighing, exhausted, Eric sat down next to Sydney. “Not that he loves you. But that he is letting his feelings blind him. It’s not good in our job to trust our feelings“, he said, while thinking of their mission in Vienna. His screaming and wailing and anger. Never had he seen so many emotions coursing through Vaughn. They had brought him out of balance, and at the same time, these feelings had brought Vaughn the stability he needed in his life.

Nodding solely, Sydney replied: “I understand.“
Him. Them. Everyone. Except herself.

“I only hope that I’m wrong.“

“Me too.“ Resting her face in her hands, she sighed nervously and added: “And I have no present for him.“

Laughing hard, Eric presented her with a heartmelting smile.

“Sydney. You are his present. With or without a ribbon.“

***

Meanwhile, Vaughn was sitting on Sydney’s crumpled bed and stared at the letter in his hands. The cream colored paper had the distinct smell of vanilla, and if he closed his eyes, he could see his mother writing the letters. Her hands had been trembling the whole time, and the doctor thought it was too much stress for her to write them all on her own. But she declined the offer that one of the nurses help her. She wanted to do this last thing on her own.
Opening the folded sheets of paper, Vaughn’s brow furrowed when he recognized the delicate handwriting of his mother.


My dear Michél,

Today’s your thirtieth birthday, and it breaks my heart that I won’t bet there to celebrate this important step in your life with you. In my last letters, I wrote everything I knew: all my wisdom and advice. Now, I don’t have anything to give you anymore. You’ve learned everything from me that I’ve known. But the truth is that I’ve learned from you so much more.
You know my wishes and dreams for your future. You know my bequest. Today, I want and need to confess.

During the last few months, I’ve learned many things. About freedom, about peace, and about pain and hope. It’s true what they say. In your last moments of life, you recognize the important things. And I know that I’m guilty. My only comfort is that I did this for you – for both of you.
I hope that you’re married by now –to Alice or another girl. You promised me to be married by now, Michél, and I sit somewhere on a cloud and observe you. You are a grown man and ready to be a loving husband and wonderful father. I always wished you this happy ending. But deep in my heart, I know that I have stolen from you the chance for big love. The biggest love in your life, my son, was nearly your ending. So forgive me, forgive me what I have done. It was only for your best.
The greatest love of all is destined, and I believe that there are soul mates in world. She was everything that you wanted, and I have stolen you away from her. But you both were so young, too young. Hopefully, God will forgive me my sins, that I have broken a connection as precious as yours - even if it was damned. I know that you can’t remember her, that was our aim, but I know that somewhere deep in your heart her picture is burned in. She will follow you everywhere, that’s your destiny.

Oh, Cherié, I assume that you are worried and confused by reading these lines, and I can’t promise that you’ll understand this and me one day. Possibly, and hopefully, you’ll never see her again. And that’s best for both of you.

I don’t tell you this because I wanted closure before my death, or absolution – God knows that you’ll never forgive me if you’ll remember – but I wanted to give you a spark of hope. That somewhere out there, love waits for you, mon cherié. Probably not the woman you’re meant to be with, but someone different. Fight for your love, do everything to keep the woman you love – that’s the only thing left to say.

Don’t forget that I will always love you.

Adieú, Maman



Bewildered, Michael shoved the letter in his pocket. Staring off into space, his face an expressionless mask, he thought about his mother’s words. What the heck did she mean? What woman had he ever forgotten? She had probably been confused in her last moments of life when she had written the letters.

Standing up and striding up and down the greasy carpet, he wondered what his mother could have meant with ‘You’ll never forgive me if you’ll remember’. Remember what?
And could there be a connection with his dreams? Everything seemed to be a mess right now, and Vaughn had no idea how to find a way out. He needed time. He needed time to find closure. It would be the best not to tell Sydney and Weiss about his mother’s letter. They wouldn’t understand anyway. How should they? Not even he understood the confusing words of his mother. But he would discover the truth and decipher the hidden meanings.

Hand on the knob of the door, Vaughn thought about his mother’s last words:
‘Fight for your love, do everything to keep the woman you love – that’s the only thing left to say.’
He couldn’t fulfill her greatest wish of his own family, but at least he could try to live after her last words. Opening the door and meeting Sydney’s gaze, Vaughn knew that he would fight for the woman he loved.

After all, that had been his mothers last will.

***
Chapter 31 – Facing a new day
Sitting next to her bed, Vaughn watched Sydney sleeping tight. Taking a sip from his steaming coffee, he wondered how long they could live like that. Irina Derevko was a phantom, no more, and it would be hard to find any indications of her actual project. Yawning deeply, he glanced at the clock that showed him that it was half past five.
The mirror across the room showed him an old man. Not old in years, but old in so many other ways. This situation had matured him, and even if he had been an earnest man before this – Sydney and this mission had shown him life from another, darker side.

Placing a hand on his cheek, he felt the stubble and knew that he would have to shave before leaving. The big question was if he should tell Sydney where he wanted to go. A relationship based on lies is damned to burn before the passion’s fire is extinguished. But their relationship was based on destruction – so where was the need to overreact? Sitting up properly and placing the mug on Syd’s nightstand, he wished that he could sleep this tight. But today – like every other day – dreams had awakened him. It was like his mind wanted to torment him. Harass him with a dive of pictures....

Creamy white skin crashing into his own tanned flesh.

...sounds...

‘Avec tout mon coeur.’ A soft hiss against his lips.

...smells...

Sweet Peach. Hot chocolate. The smell of air before it begins to rain.

...and feelings.

Happiness, joy and love lightened his heart, nearly killing him, when the heat erupted in his body.

When he had been together with Alice, these dreams had been an inconvenience – like the advertisements between hockey games shown on TV. But now, with Sydney, everything was different. What if it happened again?

‘You’ve shouted the name of another woman in the night Michael.‘

Heavy silence.

‘Every night’ she added harshly.


Observing Sydney rolling around so that she was facing him, he let out a desperate sigh. Alice was one matter, but Sydney was....special. Well, on the other hand, not many women would have lived with a man who mumbled the name of another woman in his sleep – besides Alice.

He should simply forget the stupid letter, Vaughn thought. His finger gracing Sydney’s cheek, he knew that his future was lying in front of him. No matter what. But there was this feeling in the pit of his stomach. And he just couldn’t ignore the nagging uncertainty. After all, he was a CIA-Agent and the truth was more important than everything else.
If you can’t conclude your past, you will never be able to begin the future.
Features hard, gaze fixed on his aim, Vaughn stood up and placed the note beside his mug before leaving the room quietly.

***

Waking up had always been hard for Sydney Bristow. But she knew there had been people around her who would push her out of bed and serve her a hot coffee so that she could begin each day with a smile on her face.

First, it had been her mother.
‘Good morning sweetheart.’ Her voice melodious, like the early singing-birds.
A soft kiss on the forehead, fresh pancakes on the plate.

Then came her nanny.
‘Wake up or I will tell your father about your bad behavior.’
A harsh ‘morning‘ and dry cornflakes.

In boarding school, she would face each new day with headache and aspirin.
‘You are who?‘
Alcohol was just a bad goodnight drink.
‘And we have....?‘
But the certainty that her roommates were as groggy as she had been compensation enough.

After school came the university with Francie.
‘I wish you a beautiful morning’ in her sing-song voice, a bit too shrill for seven o’clock but nice enough to stand up. Chatter and gossip through the whole breakfast and a big smile plastered on her face.
‘You will never guess who has gotten married.’

And even now, she had Vaughn who woke her up so that she could begin each fresh day with a fresh coffee and a burned toast.
‘You know, it’s not fun to wake up because smoke is choking me.’
But she took all she could get, as long as there was someone who was waiting for her, who was pleading her to start a new day. But today she had just found the simple note in Vaughn’s hasty handwriting: ‘Must leave. Be back for our meeting at four. Vaughn.’

‘At least he could have written Love, Vaughn’ she thought, offended, before rolling around and sinking into her soft sheets.
But Vaughn had changed. Something was different, and it was annoying Sydney that she couldn’t put her finger on it. She was probably just overreacting. Pulling the sheets above her head, she enjoyed the cozy hole she had created and thought about this mysterious letter. It was a bad habit to be so curious, but seeing that look on Vaughn’s face when he came out of her room was enough to make her wonder what his mother had written.


Door creaking open, Syd’s and Weiss’s heads turned around sharply.

Soft steps. Hand running through hair. A glance of uncertainty and his eyes darkened by trouble.

‘Everything okay?‘ Weiss asked cautiosly, trying to read his friend.

Face pale. Hand pinching nose. Lips twitching.

A simple nod as an answer.

‘Really?‘

‘Sure.‘ Folding the letter, looking lost into the space. And there was something in his eyes...curiosity...doubt...wonderment? He seemed to be trying to remember something.

Heavy silence laying like dust over everything.

‘Weiss wanted to eat your cake. But I defended it.’

A genuine smile plastered all over his face. Muscles relaxing under her subtle touch. Eyes moving from Weiss to her, and noticing the friendly atmosphere between his friends.

‘Very good.’



Peeking out from under the sheets, Sydney glanced at the clock but sighed when she realized that there was no need to stand up. There was no work waiting for her, no uni, no friends, nothing. Not even Vaughn’s burnt toast. She had lost it all.

In this moment, an idea was flashing through her mind. So intensive and tempting that there was no chance she could resist. Throwing the covers aside, Sydney changed quickly and stormed out of her room only to stop abruptly.
Walking over to the small desk in the living room, a big grin broke out on her face and she laughed aloud.
On the table stood a white plate with a burnt toast. Well, it seemed that he hadn’t forgotten their ritual. Even if it was a weird ritual. Grabbing the black piece of bread from the plate, she continued her way through the flat and began to pack everything.

Maybe her life had ended. But maybe there was a chance to peek through the curtain that was shielding her from real life, her old life.

***

“Jack, you are here?“, Devlin asked, surprised, when he entered his office. Throwing a quick glance at the clock on his wrist, he caught how the small pointer crept forward. Six o’clock. That was early. Even for Jack.

“I couldn’t sleep“, Jack answered, discontented. And there was a desperation in his voice that stopped Devlin dead in his tracks. Jack had always been the one to keep a cool head and heart. Emotion was blinding a good Agent, sick revenge was his worst enemy, but desperation was like signing a death contract with the devil.

Sinking down onto the chair across from Jack, he placed his bagel next to the high stack of folders.

“Let me guess. It’s about Sydney and Michael.“ He sighed their names, believing that his nerves have given out.

Shaking his head vigorously, Jack’s fist collided with the smooth surface of the desk. “No. It’s about my daughter and the man who will destroy her.“ he shouted.

Raising an eyebrow at his friend’s behavior, Devlin scolded him. “Since when are you so pathetic Jack?“ Sarcasm was dripping from his voice like oil into fire.

“Since my wife forced my child to sleep with that little bastard so that her goddamned prophecy would be fulfilled.“

“You need to stay calm.“ Pleading, Devlin went over to his door and locked it. “They will only get suspicious.“

“Don’t you understand? I fear for the life of my only daughter. Irina is back in the game and even I didn’t know that she had paid Sloane so that he would set up Sydney. This was all a big game. And I had no clue. It’s depressing and I....I don’t want to lose Sydney“, he admitted sadly, thinking back to the moments he had feared for her life in the past. There had been too many of those moments in her short life.

Previous convictions
“Daddy? Can you come and get me? I’m in prison”
Steering a car, intoxicated, without driver license
“No Daddy, I haven’t drunk that much.”
In receipt of illegal drugs
“They’re lying!. These pills weren’t mine.”
Violent behavior
“He didn’t want to hurt me.”
Rambaldi. Irina.
“She is only a child and you are a grown man. You raped her. You have hurt her.”
Stupid decisions.
“Sydney is our new Agent. She is SD-6.”


He’s a bad father, and there was no need to contradict this statement. He had denied her the love she needed so much. But there was no chance of turning back time. No chance to compensate for his mistakes. He had killed Sydney’s belief in him. And maybe those scars would be haunting her forever.

“You don’t love me.”
“I hate you.”
“You were never there for me.”
“I’m bad because I want to hurt you.”
“Your opinion is only felgercarb.”
“I don’t care about you.”
“I wish you would have died instead of mum.”


“Jack...“ Delvin’s worried voice interrupted his thoughts. He couldn’t stand to see Jack this depressed. “I have an offer for you.“
This peeked Jack’s interest. His face set like stone, his mind working, his heart daring to hope, he placed his folded hands into his lap.

His voice laced with regret as he struggled to keep his tone even and controlled, Devlin thought about what he was going to do to this two young people.
“If Vaughn makes one tiny mistake...“ Swallowing hard, he could see the hope rising in Jack’s eyes. “...I will send him away and make sure that your daughter will never see him again.“

“That’s your word?“

“That’s a promise.“

***

Chapter 32 – Digging in the truth

It was a cool day. The air swirled around the city, leaving everybody breathless. Sydney enjoyed the soft feeling on her skin, the strong breeze pulling her along. It felt like someone wanted her to continue on her way and who was she to contradict? The leaves danced around her, welcomed her back in the real life. Life was surrounding her, and it felt so good, so fresh, so forbidden. So she breathed in the forbidden fruit, and thought back to the old days were breathing had been normal. Where laughing and joking and giggling and chattering had been the contents of her daily humdrum day. Now she was living in a vacuum. Not alive, but not dead either. Not under the dead, but not under the living. A living ghost. Everything was much slower than before. The clock went backwards, leaving her with the agonizing torture called time.

Walking across the crossroad, Sydney compared the name of the restaurant in front of her with the name that was scribbled on a little piece of paper she held in hands. She was right. Taking a deep breath, she looked in the shop window to her left and controlled her reflection in the glass. Her clothes were classic and modest – nobody would turn around to watch the woman in brown trousers and a white blouse. Her big shaded sunglasses hided not only her eyes, but most of her face too, leaving most of it to imagination. Checking her lipstick, she brushed over her now tanned skin and thanked god that bronzing power had been invented. Her usually pale skin was nearly brown and a bit red blush on the right places made her face much broader. The long raven black wig that was tied into a low ponytail – a few strands falling into her face - finished her outfit. There was no chance that her friends would recognize her.

Her hand on the knob, Sydney hesitated a moment, but she knew that there was no chance that she would abort this mission. Yanking the door open, she spotted a free table at the far end of the room and quickly sat down. It was the perfect spot to observe everybody. She could overlook the whole restaurant, and even a part of the kitchen when one of the waiters opened the swing door. Leaning back, Sydney waited for the waitress to come over.

“Hello, I’m Carol. What can I do for you?“, she asked in her sugar sweet voice, and Sydney bit her lip so as not to laugh. No way had Francie employed this girl.

“A glass of water would be fine. Thanks“, she answered with a heavy French accent. Her voice much deeper than normal, rolling r’s and a little s-mistake. That was her Alias. Jacqueline Durié. 27 years old. Studies art at the University of Paris. No cigarettes, no alcohol, no meat. Engaged for two years. Is in LA to visit her uncle, who always wanted to show her the local art gallery.

***

“Doctor Stuardson, I know about the doctor’s duty to taciturnity” Vaughn sighed, enervated. Shifting in his chair, he wondered once again how stubborn psychiatrists could be. For an hour he sat in this neat little office, and Doctor Stuardson hadn’t given him one single answer. Only analysis, excuses, and hollow words.

“Mister Vaughn, I understand your need to know what was occupying your mother’s mind in the last months before she died, but there’s no way that I will break my promise.”

“Your promise? I want you to tell me why she was so....” Searching for the right words, Vaughn pinched the bridge of his nose “She was so alone. Nobody could talk to her. There was this huge wall she had built around her, and I could tell that something was troubling her...haunting her. And I need you to tell me what it was. Please” he begged, forgetting his own pride.

Raising his arms in a gesture of surrender, the doctor shook his head violently. “This oppression is unbelievable. Don’t you want to tell me what is on your mind?”

His mouth agape, Vaughn wondered if the doctor had even listened. “That’s a joke, right?” Standing up, his hands resting on the table in front of him, Vaughn leaned to the doctor and hissed: “My problems are only mine. And now, please excuse me. I have more important things to do than to sit around with Doctor Freud. Goodbye.” With that, Vaughn left the room hastily, only to hide behind a corner.

***

In no time, the waitress had brought Sydney the fresh water and flashed her a broad smile.

“Ahem, Carol. I have a question. Who is the owner of this restaurant? It’s lovely.“ Gesturing around the cozy room, Sydney couldn’t help but admire how Francie had furnished the restaurant. She could picture her friend, how she had walked around, scolded the handymen, chosen the right color for the walls, quarreled with Will, and laughed at the grand opening party. She could have been a part of this. She could have helped to fold the napkins, to polish the glasses, and to put the daisies inside the vases.
But she hadn’t been there. Because she should be lying inside her tomb.

“The owner is Francine Calfo. She’s sitting right there with a few friends.” The blonde girl pointed at a group that was chattering happily with each other. “Should I ask her to come over?”

“No.” Sydney squeaked hysterically, but stopped to clear her throat. “No, thank you. It’s just great that she has built this up alone.”

“She wasn’t completely alone. This restaurant is dedicated to her best friend. She died before Francie had bought these rooms. I believe her name was Sydney. Francie told me that she always wanted her to live her dreams. So, shortly after she had died, Francie had begun to search for the appropriate rooms. Her fianceé helped her to decorate everything.”

Tears brimming at her lashes, her breath hitching Sydney dared to ask.

“Who’s her fianceé?”

The young girl looked oddly at her, clearly wanting to know why the foreign woman was so interested in her chief’s life.

“His name is Will Tippin. Perhaps you know him. He’s journalist.”

“No, I’m sorry, I don’t read the American press.” Sydney continued to play her role, even if it was so tempting to run over to Francie’s table and throw herself into the arms of her best friend.

“Do you want something?” Carol asked after a few agonizing seconds.
Shaking her head, Sydney didn’t find the words to answer her appropriately. Francie was engaged. To Will. This was surprising news. And she couldn’t stop the smile that was growing on her face. They were happy. Without her. Happy sadness washed over her, like a dive.

Before Sydney could continue to doubt herself, the door to the kitchen swung open and a stressed Will rushed into the eating area. His gaze moved around the room, and Sydney’s breath stopped when his forehead frowned and his eyes rested on her. One moment, one short moment, she was sure that he would recognize her. That he could see right through her masquerade and saw the Sydney he once called his best friend. But it had been only imagination. The glasses protected her from his suspicious gaze, and the shrill voice of Francie broke their short connection.

“Will, come here” she requested.
Without hesitating a moment, Will ran over to his fianceé. Moving back her chair, Francie stood to face Will, resting her hands on his shoulders, her eyes full of love as she placed a kiss on his lips. Sydney’s breath hitched as she observed their intimate touches. His hands moving down her bare arms to her stomach. And this was where Sydney’s eyes went glassy. The bump wasn’t to survey. Francie was pregnant.

They were the lucky ones. No shadow of death was following them. Nobody wanted to kill them. They would be a happy little family. There would never have been a chance for them if she hadn’t died. There would have always been the chance that something would have happened. Maybe her death had been more useful than her life, Sydney thought, depressed, fighting with her tears. It would be too selfish to destroy their new little life. Going over to their table and saying: “Hi, I’m alive.” They weren’t that strong, and neither was she, Sydney realized. There was a line between the person she had invented and the person she was. The old Sydney Bristow was dead. She had never lived. Laying a few dollars on the table, she stood up and slipped her jacket on. It was time to go. It was time to become what she is. A fighter.

***

Slipping inside the office, it took Vaughn only a minute to spot the file cabinet. Rummaging in his bag, he found the skeleton key quickly. Fiddling around with lock, Vaughn nearly laughed when it sprung open after a few seconds. The safety of the files didn’t seem to be that important for the dear doctor.

Searching through the folders, he soon spotted “Vaughn, Amélie” and flipped it open. A few medical terms and unreadable notes later, he found the thing he craved for: the transcripts of the records from his mother’s sittings. Taking photos of the single sheets with his micro camera, he sighed contently when everything was back at his place and he stood outside the building.

“Never underestimate a Michael Vaughn”, he mumbled under his breath. Feeling his mobile phone vibrating, Vaughn answered the call.

“Yes?”

“Hey Michael, its Denise” a cheerful voice greeted him. Denise had been his mother’s closest friend, and even she didn’t know what Amélie had concealed from all of them. Vaughn had asked her to search through the house – he still hadn’t visited his old home since his mother had died – if she could find something interesting.

“Denise, have you found something?”

“Yes, I was at your old house as you wanted me to be, and there was a box full of old photos and other stuff. I think there is something you would like to see. I’ll send it to you. It will be there the day after tomorrow.”

“Can’t you tell me what it is? Or send it with the e-mail?”, he sighed, knowing the old woman probably didn’t know what an e-mail was.

Gasping, surprised, Vaughn could picture how Denise was standing in her kitchen with a raised forefinger. “But Michael! Patience is a virtue. And you can wait for the photos. I’m sure the post will deliver it quickly.”

“Okay, bye”, he gave in, knowing that there’s no use in arguing with her. Ending the call, he noticed, shocked, that he was terribly late. ‘Hopefully everything is okay with Syd’ he prayed tiredly.

***
Chapter 33 – The mistake that’s killing you

“We’re late” Vaughn stated accusingly, sending Sydney a disapproving look.

“Sorry, I needed a little bit longer than intended” she answered coolly, thinking about the bronze powder that had stuck to her skin, leaving marks of her trip to normalcy. If Vaughn should ever discover the truth, he would surely kill her. The excursion had been thoughtless, but she had needed the closure.

Sighing heavily, Vaughn glanced at Sydney, asking her through his eyes if she was ready to play the next act of their never ending story. Nodding solemnly, Vaughn was fascinated when from one second to the next, her whole being changed. Her posture was straighter, her steps lighter than before, and the way her hips swung with each movement had changed. A small grin settling on his face, Vaughn opened the door for her and followed Sydney into the CIA headquarters.

“Okay, I just have to go to the tech-guys and I’ll be back in a minute. Don’t move an inch” he instructed her with a coolness Sydney hadn’t observed often. Well, not when he was talking to her anyway. With these crisp words, Vaughn left her alone and stalked away.

Standing next to the water cooler, Sydney leaned on the wall behind her. Looking around the crowded room, it seemed interesting that nobody cared for the women with the bright blonde wig, the black rimmed glasses, and the black turtleneck. They are probably simply too busy, she thought, bored.

“Excuse me, are you the new secretary?”
Turning around, Sydney stood in front of a well-developed woman with curly hair that was tamed with much effort through many pins. Like every other woman in this room, she wore a simple black costume and had a few folders tucked under her arm.

“I heard that you are a bit shy. I’m Sally. But you can call me Sal.” Shaking hands, Sydney could only nod before her new friend continued rambling on: “So you’ll be Devlin’s new one, huh? That’s great by the way. He seems to be nice.”
Noticing Vaughn coming out of an office across from the room, Sydney felt relieved that he would save her from this situation. But when he began to talk with another Agent, every hope was erased.

“Fantastic” she sighed.

Waiting for Sydney to say something, Sally saw how the young woman glanced in Vaughn’s direction before turning back to her.

“Oh girl, you can forget him. Believe me, every woman in this office longs for Agent Vaughn. He’s the newest and the hottest of all of them. I mean, most of the Agents are either old, or ugly or married. Unfortunately for the wives, most of the time they are all three.” Giggling like they were old friends, Sally leaned closer and whispered:
“Ya must know that I went out with Agent Vaughn’s best friend. His name is Eric Weiss. I’m sure you’ve seen him; he’s the one who looks like a teddy bear, has the IQ of one, and always wants to show you his yoyo-tricks. When he wants to show you the ‘fly-around-the-world’-trick, just run away.” Brushing a few strands of hair from her face, Sally showed a startled Sydney a bump on her forehead.

“That was him and his damn yo-yo” she explained.

Searching for Vaughn so that he could rescue her from this crazy secretary, Sydney didn’t even bother to listen to the woman’s endless gossip.

“....he even dreams about her.”

Haltering in her movements, Sydney’s curiosity was peeked, and she had the nicest smile plastered on her face when she asked Sally: “Who dreams what?”

“Agent Vaughn. I was out with Eric and after a few minutes we had nothing to talk about. That was so embarrassing.” Pronouncing the last word, Sally rolled her eyes.
‘Poor Weiss.’ Sydney thought before pleading the secretary to complete her story.

“So he simply told me a few anecdotes about Agent Vaughn and himself. After one or two or seven Pina Coladas, who counts....I told him that Agent Vaughn is the guy every girl here in the office is drooling after.”

“You didn’t” Sydney gasped, surprised, and her pity for Weiss only rose.

“Sure I did. And you can’t believe what he told me.”

“Spill.”

“He told me that Agent Vaughn broke up with his last girlfriend because he screamed the name of another woman while they slept together. Can you believe that? And that’s not all. It wasn’t the name of his old flame or an affair, no...” Leaning into her so that Sally could whisper in her ear she hissed: “It was a woman he dreams about. Sexual dreams. A nonexistent girlfriend. I’ll tell you, how pathetic is that?”

Sydney had stopped listening Sally. This couldn’t be a coincidence that they both had the same dreams. Well, who says that you have the same dreams? Maybe he is just sexually frustrated.

“And you aren’t his type either, Girl” Sally told her with a genuine look of disappointment on her face. “The woman of his dreams has startling brown eyes and brown hair. Eric told me something about chocolate but I was so drunk, I couldn’t make out a word he said.”

Brown hair.
Brown eyes.
“ ‘She has skin like white chocolate parfait, hair like dark coffee chocolate with caramel crispies, and eyes like mousse au chocolat.’ If that isn’t homage out of my son’s mouth.”

Not knowing what to think about the sudden thoughts and pictures that flashed through her mind, Sydney felt panic coursing through her body. She could even smell the sweet scent of fresh cacao.
“Thank you Sally, I should go. Devlin’s waiting for me and I don’t want to be late on my first day.” Sydney excused herself and stormed away, her steps so loud that even Vaughn turned around to see who was making so much noise.

Catching up with her, he grabbed her by the arm and yanked her to a stop.
“What happened?” he asked, bewildered, a trace of anger lacing his voice. All his colleagues observed them carefully, not knowing what to think about the weird woman that nobody had ever seen before.

Her face set like stone, voice calm and even, and she didn’t dare to look him in the eye.

Piercing green eyes.

“Barnett is waiting for me.” Freeing herself from his firm grasp, she sauntered past him.

“Okay” he sighed and followed the disturbed woman.

***

Sitting next to Devlin, Jack had a big smile plastered on his face. Like a fat cat who had eaten the canary, Vaughn thought, a bit scared when he sat down in front of the older Agents. Minutes after he had dropped Sydney off with Barnett, a young secretary had told him that Devlin wanted to see him. With Jack. Something Vaughn wasn’t entirely happy about. Feeling oppressed, he sat down quickly.

After a few agonizing minutes of silence, Jack had compassion for the young Agent and greeted him, restrained “Agent Vaughn, glad that you had time to come.“
His friendly behavior made Vaughn fear the worst. He knew this tactic. Be nice and gentle first, than destroy your vis-à-vis.

“That’s my duty“ Vaughn stated, calmly and cautiously.

His fingers folded, Jack’s eyes betrayed the coolness of his voice. “Like looking after my daughter?“ he asked, and Vaughn knew that every answer would be a false one.

“Completely right.“

“And we all know how responsible you are“, he stated, amused, broken laughter erupting in the air. Completely confused and slightly intimidated, Vaughn sent Devlin a questioning look. A lost and sad glance was his only answer, shocking Vaughn even more. Before he could ask Jack what his intentions were, the older Agent hissed: “You would never leave Sydney unguarded.“

And that jolted Vaughn straight out of his incertitude. “Yesterday was an exception. I had to settle a few personal things.“

“Yes, and do you know what Sydney did while you were away?“

“She stayed home“ Vaughn answered, so sure and convinced that it broke Devlin’s heart to see Bill’s boy believing the lie that would destroy his life.

“You really believe that this is home for her?“ Standing up, Jack smashed his flat hands on the table, anger defacing his features. “This is only a temporary solution. You are a temporary solution which we will end right now. You will be replaced Agent Vaughn.“

A real smirk on his lips, he witnessed contently how Vaughn’s face fell to ashes. Slowly, realization hit the young Agent and panic ran through his veins.
“What, why? Where was Sydney?“ Vaughn asked, not completely convinced of Jack’s accusations. Sydney would have told him. Sydney wouldn’t have lied. Not her. Please not her.

“She visited her friends.“
Taking a stack of photos, Jack spilled them on the table in front of Vaughn. On each of them, a young woman could be seen. And there was no doubt. It was Sydney. His Sydney. Damn her. She had dug their own grave and now he would be the one to pay for her stupid mistake. It wasn’t Jack’s content look that made him furious. It wasn’t that Sydney had visited her friends that made him irate and furious. It was the simple fact that she hadn’t confided him in. That she had repeated the mistake she had made with Noah. She hadn’t trusted him. And they would probably never reach that level of intimacy.

“She went out on the street where everybody could see her“ Jack taunted him, merciless.
“She went to her friends. She sat only a few feet away from them. If they had noticed her - what then Agent Vaughn? Sloane or Derevko or Noah Hicks, they all could have killed her. And it would have been your fault. I won’t allow you to endanger the life of my daughter anymore, Agent. You’ll be sent to Norway. And I swear that you will never see her again. Ever.“

This one word burnt itself into Vaughn’s mind. Head in hands, he slowly realized the successions of Sydney’s reckless behavior. Something went wrong. So entirely wrong. They hadn’t followed the rules and now this would be their punishment.


!!!The rest of chapter 33 is after the post of angels_fire_88!!!
 
YAY first to review

and YAY update and boy was that hell of an update...too much to take in at one time

but it was awesome... the plot thickens!!!!!!!! and im lets speechless...may come back and review later properly !!!!!

but loved it!!!!
 
The rest of chapter 33. Stupid computer wouldn't let me post the rest.



“I didn’t know that...“ Vaughn tried to defend himself, but there was nothing he could say. Everything Jack taunted him with was hurting, harming him. But the only scar that would survive was Sydney’s distrust in him.

“But you should have known“ Jack interrupted him. “And now go and bury your fantasies about a future with my daughter“, he spat out hatefully.
Vaughn’s eyes big and shocked, Jack noticed with satisfaction how the boy‘s hands were shaking slightly. Vaughn was out of the game. One less parasite that would derogate his daughter.
“You should thank me Agent Vaughn. I’m only acting in your both best interests.“ And he said this with such honesty that it peeked Vaughn’s interest. Bolting up, it took him only seconds to realize the whole picture.

“You are only acting in your best interest“ he spat out hatefully, before storming out of the office.

This wasn’t the end. Not with Jack Bristow winning.

***

“Good morning Agent Bristow” Doctor Barnett greeted Sydney friendly, but with a proper distance. Gesturing to the couch in front of her, Barnett waited until her patient was seated and uncapped her pen. The session was beginning. And she couldn’t conceal her interest in this young woman. Sydney Bristow was the dream of every therapist. Death, estrangement, deceit, loss – these were the pillars of her life. A woman, fluctuating like water and imperishable like the earth. But she sat there like a teenage girl, too shy to even greet her opposite.

Sensing the questioning look of the woman in front of her, Sydney whispered a quick: “Hello Doctor Barnett” before continuing to stare at her hands. She should have them manicured more often, she thought after a few minutes, irritated, before the subtle and so neutral tone of Barnett’s voice interrupted her silly thoughts.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Honestly, I wondered when you’d visit me.”

This peeked Sydney’s interest. Glancing oddly at the rather attractive therapist, she sat up straight before asking coolly: “Really? Why’s that?”

Looking at the file in her lap, Barnett’s eyes flew over the marked catchphrases:
Mother dead when Agent Bristow was six years old....relationship to her father very estranged...nurtured by nannies...deranged relationships
Troubled youth....previous convictions...violent behavior...problems with superiors
Lover SD-6 Agent Noah Hicks betrayed her during an op.
...instable......SD-6, terrorist organization...betrayed more than once
..slept with Agent Hicks.....relationship with Agent Vaughn needs to be observed...
...dead to the incommunicado...


“A woman in your situation is easily overextended” Barnett concluded, sighing over all those problems this young Agent obviously had.

A short nod was her only answer.

“May I call you Sydney?”

“Sure, sure” she nodded again.

“Why are you here?”

“I thought you had all the answers.”

This elicited a small smirk from Barnett as she was stunned by Sydney’s repartee. “Not if you don’t know them.”

Silence fell over the room. Only Barnett’s pen could be heard as it scratched over the rough paper.
“I had a hard time” Sydney began after a few minutes, before adding: “But I don’t want to talk about this. I’m here because of a very special and queasy topic.”

The pen stopped in the midair, the only sign that Barnett was surprised. Her face was a calm mask that made Sydney more insecure than it reassured her. “And that would be?”

“Dreams. My dreams to be specific” she breathed out, trying to conceal the red that was creeping up her cheeks. You would think that a CIA-Agent knew how to overplay a bit of girlish shame.

“Well, now I’m a bit surprised.”

Shrugging nonchalantly, Sydney leaned back before crossing her arms over her chest. Noticing this defensive gesture, Barnett didn’t hesitate a second before she asked further: “I assume that you are haunted by dreams?”

“Haunted...that’s a good word for it” A bitter laugh escaped her throat.

“Why don’t you tell me about them.“

“Since I was seventeen, I’ve had these weird dreams.“


“I love you.“

A breeze of air stroking over their sweaty backs.

“Vous êtes la femme la plus belle sur terre.”

He exhales - a long, deep, hot, pant sounding almost like a moan.

“I could never forget you Sydney Bristow.”

Shifting on the soft mattress, him sinking onto and into her.

“I missed your smile.”

Caressing accompanying their sweet lovemaking as they blend together.



“They are always similar. There’s a man and we, well...“

Dancing bodies, crushing mouths, rocking hips and beating hearts.

“You sleep with each other?“

A sudden burst of heart inside of her, pooling in the pit of her stomach.

“Yes.“

His lips on the pulse point of her neck.

“And are these changing partners?“

The way his lips brushed over hers. So innocent. So full of passion. The way he mumbled, screamed, moaned her name. So addictive. So lovely. The way his hands played with her hair. So sweet. So true. The way their bodies fit together. So pure. So intoxicating.

“No, it’s always the same man. I can’t really tell, because I have never seen his face.“

“Why are you so sure then that it’s always the same one?“

Piercing green eyes. Somewhere between the color of a dark fir and jade with golden spots.

“His eyes. They are intoxicating. It’s a feeling, I can’t really explain.“ Shutting her eyes, she could see them right in front of her, staring into her soul.
“My dreams seem to mingle with the reality“ Sydney added, realization sweeping over her. She just didn’t want to accept the unambiguousness of this situation. The solution had been in front of her eyes. The whole time. Why, she wasn’t sure. How, she couldn’t answer. Too many questions that were torturing her. Her head began to hurt – a subtle beat invading her brain.

“With a man you know?“

“Yes.“ Vaughn, Vaughn, Vaughn, why him and how and oh god where will this end?

“How long have you known him?“

“For a few moths“, Sydney whispered, ablaze. Maybe this was only her weird imagination. The man in her dreams couldn’t be Vaughn. She couldn’t dream about a man for years when she’d only known him for a few months.

“Is it Agent Vaughn?“
Her eyes snapping open, Sydney caught Barnett’s interested gaze. But there was something in her gaze that made Sydney bite her tongue until she could taste her own blood. She had talked too much. That’s why she didn’t like psychologists.

“No. It’s not Agent Vaughn. It’s a man I’ve seen only a few times – he lives near the safe house. I always observe him when he goes to work. Through the window. I simply enjoy observing people who are living a normal life“, she lied through her teeth, hoping that Barnett would believe her.

Writing something down on her notepad, Barnett smiled at her warmly. “I think you have nothing to worry about. Dreams are our valves to handle life. You are in a very difficult situation. Your life – as you have known it – is over. Everybody believes that you are dead. It’s natural that you try to compensate for these feelings. In your case, you dream about the affection of a man, of an act that is known as the deepest connection two people can share. Your need for true love and safety is decisive.
I assume that you began having these dreams at the young age of seventeen because your father rejected you and because of your troubled youth. The stability and warmth of such a precious action, like making love, gave you a feeling a closeness that have missed during your teenage years.“

“Aha.“

“The green-eyed lover can have many reasons. It could be that your nice neighbor, your high school crush or that your favorite actor has green eyes. Green is the color of hope – it could stand for your hope to find a deep and true relationship. As you see, dreams are a very wide and difficult field in the psychology.“ Shifting on her chair, Barnett crossed her legs before taking a burgundy colored organizer from her desk. “It would be best...“, she added while flipping through the calendar “...if we meet each other again on next Monday. Is that okay for you?“

“Monday will be fine“ Sydney answered calmly, but in reality she just wanted to run home.

“Good. Then we’ll see each other again soon. Goodbye Sydney.“

“Goodbye Doctor Barnett.“ Shaking the psychologist’s hand, Sydney wanted to storm out of the room, but stopped dead in her movements. Not turning around she dared to ask the question that was burning her tongue:

„How high is the possibility that two people are dreaming about each other? The same dreams.“ she asked unsurely.

„If there is an attraction between these two people it wouldn’t be inconvenient. But same and congruent dreams are highly uncommon. Only if it’s a situation that is connecting them – some kind of crucial experience. Why are you asking me this?“

„Out of curiosity. I’m reading a novel where this happens. Really funny by the way. You should read it too.“ Sydney kept blethering, while escaping Barnett’s questions.
„I should go. Vaughn is waiting for me.“ With these words she was out of the room, her breathing hard and ragged.

Standing up, Doctor Barnett closed the door before grabbing her phone. Dialing the number she knew by heart, it only rang a few seconds before a firm notified the other end of the line.

“Jack Bristow.“

“Jack, it’s Susan. I think she knows it and will discover the truth soon.“

***
tbc…
 
i LOVED it! even though I've read it over at SD-1 it was still fresh! :D

i can't believe that they're figuring things out. the dreams, if i was having them, would creep the hell out of me. i would be terrified. i'm glad that they're starting to figure it out! :smiley:

~Anja
 
OO Syd is starting to figure it out!!!!!!
-But just as she does stupid Jack has to have Vaughn replaced...I really hope this doesn't happen!!!
And I'm really not liking Dr. Barnett....why did she have to go and tell Jack!!!
Great updates!! LOVED IT!! Thanks for the pm!!!
 
oh my god evil jack trying to seperate tham AGAIN!!!
he should really get the message
i loved the chapters they were brilliant
syd n vaughn r remembering

i really can't wait for more

luv Chicketepee :seehearspeak:
 
k wow! I don't even know what to say except for that was sooo good!
I really want syd and vaughn to remember. But then he has to go away! gahh Jack is so frustrating! I'm happy weiss and syd are on good terms. Maybe weiss will be the link that keeps syd and vaughn 2gether while Vaughn is gone! I can't wait for more update soon please!
 
wow, I had no idea this story was updated! :P my fault for not checking my messages often enough...
but no!!!!!! :(:(:(:(:(:( It's great that they're starting to remember things, but Jack is going to come along and traipse all over everything. grrr... I hate meddlers.
 
Danuta,
Great job with the story so far. Sorry it's taken me ages to catch up. I read a little bit everyday. When I saw this: “Der Widerstand”, in chapter seventeen, I started jumping up and down because I knew it's English meaning...resistance. Can't wait for the next update.

Oh, that's great. One person who speaks german, that's not often the case, believe me. Hoffentlich wird dir die Geschichte auch weiterhin gefallen. Es gibt ein paar Stellen wo Deutsch gesprochen wird.
-I didn't get most of that, except for hopefully and it gives a pair of something to speak German. Yeah no? I'm in my sixth year of German and suck at it, although I visited the Austrian city of Vienna, Wien just over a month ago.

-erin :smiley:
 
Hello everybody!

I'm back from my holidays and here is the promised update. With these two chapters you are ex equo with SD1, so no need to switch between these sites to catch the newest update, because you'll get it at the same time. The last chapter of Maroon is already written (chapter 40). My beta likes it, but I'm not so sure about it, so please tell me your opinion. On one hand it’s really sad to end this story because it means so much to me and I have created a whole new Alias-universe ;) but on the other side it feels good to end this...to close the book. And it will give me more time to write new stories.

So please enjoy the last few chapters of Maroon and don't forget to reply, 'cause I can be pretty resentful ;)
Thanks for all the sweet replies - I cherish them and they make this story so something really unique for me.

Love, Danuta


@xMountineer02300844x: You were in Vienna? That's cool, I'm living there. Did you like the city? By the way...you translated "Der Widerstand" completly correct. The abstract: "Hoffentlich wird dir die Geschichte auch weiterhin gefallen. Es gibt ein paar Stellen wo Deutsch gesprochen wird." means: Hopefully you'll like this story further. There are a few scenes were they speak German." So it was nothing important ;) I wish you a lot of fun with learning German. Und viel Spass mit Maroon :D


Chapter 34 – Glancing through the mirror

“Sydney, please open the door.“

Knock. Knock. Knock.

‘If he keeps doing this, his knuckles will break‘
Sydney thought while rolling her eyes.

“Sydney. Damn it, your father wants to talk to you. He’s on the phone.“

“GO AWAY! I don’t want to talk to him, to listen to him or to see him. And nothing will change it“, she screamed at the top of her lungs while throwing the big vase against the heavy door where it smashed into pieces.

----
“Where is Vaughn?“ Sydney asked, flustered when her father and Weiss met her instead of Vaughn.

“He isn’t your handler anymore. Agent Weiss will accept his position.“

----

She nearly collapsed when she heard this.
The little pieces of glass felt good under her bare feet. The sharp edges slicing her skin, a red path following every step she made. The cuts didn’t bring her pain; they showed her the mercies of yearning. She was trapped. In this flat. In this situation. In this life.

----
“Why have you sent him away?” Her voice was loud and angry, betraying the fact that she was dying inside.

His gaze cool and emotionless, he spat out hatefully: “It was your fault Sydney. Don’t you dare scream at me. You visited your friends and he hadn’t been there to prevent you from this mistake. His pitch, but your blame.”

----

She was guilty. She was so guilty. She had lost everyone dear in her life. Falling down on the bed, she stared at the ceiling. A lost glance, like she was searching for an answer. But she didn’t even have an question. The “why“ had been answered already. She had done this. To herself and to Vaughn. He was probably in Taipei or Moscow right now. There was no chance that she would see him again. Rolling around restlessly, she messed up the sheets, little spots of blood garnishing the blank white cotton.

“Sydney“, Weiss sighed loudly. “I have to go. Please behave. Mark and Andy are outside if you need anything.“

----
“I don’t understand you dad. Why have you done this to us?” A tear tried to escape her eye, but she brushed it away before he could notice it. Turning around, she didn’t see the look of grief and despair that was etched on his features.

“Because I understand you.”

----

Weiss closed the door with a loud thud, and even the walls shuddered. Continuing to stare at the dirty ceiling, Sydney thought back to her conversation with Barnett.
She had dreams. Since she was seventeen. Always about the same man-with piercing green eyes. Well, sexual frustration would sound rational. But there was this little yet so disturbing fact that Michael Vaughn had the same dreams she did. Something that could mean nothing or everything. And right now she leaned towards “everything“.
These dreams were deeply rooted in her mind and soul. She was sure that they meant something. Probably her subconscious trying to give her hints. And everything was referring to Vaughn. Punching her fist in the soft pillow, Sydney sighed, peeved. Why had her father done this to them? In the moment she needed Vaughn the most, where she was so close to deciphering the meaning of her dreams. Of their dreams.
But Jack wouldn’t give her even the slightest chance of contacting him. Cursing loudly, Sydney grabbed the bag that was lying on the floor and emptied the contents on her bed. Taking the mobile-phone, she stared at it, deeply in thought.
The only chance to be with Vaughn again was to find Irina Derevko. Sydney was sure that with her information, it would be an easy game to defeat Arvin Sloane and SD-6.
Dialing a number she knew by heart, Sydney whispered ruefully: “I’m so sorry Vaughn.“

It didn’t last long before he answered the phone. And his voice was so surprised, like she was disturbed.

***

“Vaughn, where are you?“ Weiss asked, bewildered, wondering how his friend got the chance to phone him.

“On my way to France. I could persuade Jack to send me home. At least I can do some research while I’m there.“
“How is Syd?“ he asked, tired and stressed. During his short nap on the plane, he had only dreamt about her and had woken up more tired than before. He worried so much about her that it hurt him to even think about Sydney.

“She doesn’t eat, she doesn’t come out of her room and she isn’t talking to anyone“ Weiss enumerated. “Except for cursing. Yeah, she’s doing that a lot“, he added with a smile. He didn’t have to be a magician to know that Vaughn’s forehead was furrowed right now. Sighing, he closed his eyes before whispering in a gentle tone, trying to ease his friend’s pain a bit: “She’s missing you, Vaughn, and the situation with her father is more than stressed. I’m sure she would have killed him if they hadn’t been in the middle of the CIA rotunda.“

“That’s my girl“, Vaughn joked sadly. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he was interrupted by the stewardess who told him that they would land soon.

“Weiss, I’ll try to phone you in the next few days. I have a bunch of babysitters who are following me everywhere. They even took my mobile phone. Please tell Sydney that I…l...“ Vaughn started, but stopped to clear his throat as he realized what he had wanted to say.

“Yes?“ And even though they were miles apart, Vaughn knew that his friend was grinning at the other end of the line.

Breathing out, Vaughn watched as the plane began his descend. “That I miss her.“

***

“I don’t know where Irina is.“

Plopping down onto the couch, Sydney couldn’t believe her ears.
“You little bastard“. she snapped hatefully and really enjoyed that she could tell him all the things she hadn’t the chance to say to him before. “Don’t you dare to lie to me. I know that you know, so don’t come with your lame excuses. You and me, Noah, we have a history. I don’t want to reminisce. But there are a few secrets you have that I know about.“ Her voice had a dangerous undertone that held the promise of some undesirable surprises.

“I have no idea what you are talking about. I could tell Sloane about you.“

“Damn it, he knows that I’m alive“ Sydney screamed into the phone before calming down again. There was no need to loose her temper with Noah. She had him in her hand, even if he didn’t know until now. “I’m very sure that Irina Derevko has told him that by now. I don’t believe that you have any idea what they are planning, but I want and need to figure out what their ultimate plan is.“ Playing with a strand of her hair, she added coolly: “And the first step is to find Irina Derevko. I know that she is in Warsaw, you just have to tell me the address.“

“I won’t“ His voice was so firm and sure that it frustrated Sydney immensely. Standing up from the couch she walked to the counter. Pressing the phone between her shoulder and her ear, she poured some orange-juice in her glass before taking a sip. The fresh and cool liquid ran down her throat. Pursing her lips, a devilish smile crept on her face when she realized how much she could damage Noah. Well, adversity is the school of wisdom, she thought before saying: “Then I will tell Sloane about your Swiss bank accounts. The one’s where you transferred his money to. I wasn’t that blind Noah, and I had enough time to investigate.“

A sharp intake of breath.
Mumbling. Cursing. Sighing.
And then the answer:
“Okay, I will tell you her location.“

***

Leaving his suitcase in the wide antechamber, Vaughn took his time to wander around the old house. Everything was how his mother had left it, only a thick layer of dust was laying over the furniture. Frowning deeply, Vaughn realized that his mother would never arrange the flowers in the vase again, that the smell of fresh cookies was in the past – Amélie was dead and the soul of the house had died with her.
Looking over his shoulder, he observed Jack’s men following every step he made.

“Your rooms are on the right“, he murmured slowly before turning his back on them. Jack was a coward. He would have revenge on the old man, but in the moment he had formed his hand into a fist, the guards came in and escorted him onto the plane. Jack had this all planned out.

Noticing that his personal babysitters were in their respective rooms, Vaughn took his chance to continue his walk down the memory lane.
His fingers gracing the handrail, he went up the stairs to look at the other rooms. In each of them Vaughn found the same. Beautiful, but dusty furniture; antique pictures; precious memories. Opening one of the doors he entered the guest room. He had loved to be here in his youth. This place had a magic that was indefinable. His mother had hated the fact that he could spend so many hours in here.
The walls glowed in a light yellow, painted flowers adorning one side of the big room. When he was young, a king-sized four-poster had stood in the middle of this room, but his mother had insisted on disposing of it. He couldn’t remember why it was that important to her. Only something about “bad memories”.
Crossing the room, he stood in front of the wall. A big white blanket was spread over an antique mirror to save it from being destroyed. Pulling the sheet aside, it swayed on the floor without a sound. Like a feather in the wind. Dust was swirling around the room, dancing with the sunrays, blinding Vaughn as he closed his eyes for a moment.

“The truth is against us Vaughn.”

What the...? Snapping his eyes open, Vaughn glanced in the mirror and was astonished when the glass didn’t show him the reflection of himself, but another picture. It was the same room as before, but everything had changed. The king-sized four-poster was back, a rosé bedspread covering the white blankets. Stuffed animals sat on top of an old commode, grinning at him.
Turning around, Vaughn was faced by the same old room as before: it was like he could see into another world with the mirror. Not believing his own eyes, his glance was glued to the mirror when he caught movement in the glass. It was him pacing up and down the room. “This isn’t possible”, Vaughn whispered, confused, his hand massaging his temple. But nothing changed. The mirror continued to show him pictures of old times. “I’m crazy.” Laughing aloud, he couldn’t believe his eyes. Something wasn’t right. He had really lost his mind.

“The truth is the only thing that will help us”, said his younger alter ego truthfully. “I’ll understand you”, he added hopefully, and Vaughn choked when he noticed the crunched form of a woman in the chair in the right corner. This couldn’t be. This shouldn’t be. How?

In that moment, Sydney looked up at Vaughn’s younger self, her eyes glistering with unshed tears, her breathing uneven and with a look of hurt and betrayal that Vaughn knew better than anything else.

“Syd?” Touching the glass, he once again looked over his shoulder, but the world that he could see in the mirror wasn’t reality. At least not in this reality.

“Understand me?” Sydney spat out, while standing up and throwing her arms in the air. “You want the truth? I’ll tell you. Do you know what the worst part of my evening with Jacques was?”

Jacques? Anne’s friend Jacques?

“Not that I was so stupid, not that cried more than in my whole lifetime, not that he punched me and not that he was this close to violating me.” She turned away from Vaughn’s younger version, but Vaughn could see her face and it broke his heart when she added in a strong voice: “The worst was that I pictured you doing those things to me. For me, it was you touching me, holding me, kissing me. The worst part was that I enjoyed his whole act.”

Taken by surprise, Vaughn’s forehead frowned. They both looked so young. What was this? A memory, a fantasy, a dream, a vision? But why would he have a daydream about Sydney in his old house? Too many questions were invading his mind, making it rough for Vaughn to think straight. Pain was slicing through his head, leaving him dumbfounded for a second or two.

“I don’t know what to say. ” Looking at his younger self, Vaughn tried to remember. Something. Anything. This situation was so morbid, it began to frighten him.

“And that is why the truth is against us Vaughn. Because when we hear it, we can’t act on it. And now you should go.”

“I will not leave you alone tonight.” The younger Vaughn walked towards her, but Sydney simply held her hand up and shushed him.

“When you’re here, it’s more painful for me than when you’re away.”

“Sydney,...” he pleaded, but she turned away from him.

“Please, just go.”


Vaughn watched how he himself walked to the door. Glancing at Sydney, he saw her crying silently. Her head hanging down, she stood in front of the window. She looked different too – so much younger. The contours of her face were somehow softer, her body not as trained as now, her hair much longer and curled.

Sensing that his younger version wanted to say something, Vaughn watched as he said, their backs facing each other:
“I’m 23 Sydney. You’re a teenager. How should I act on my feelings?
My life wasn’t easy too, and now with you here...it’s a lot more complicated than before.
I’m in my room if you need anything.”

His hand on the knob, he heard a small voice asking: “Vaughn?”


“Yes?” And Vaughn could tell by the look on his face that this Vaughn had really been in love with her.

Sydney walked towards him, her steps not as graceful as now, but somehow sweeter, more innocent. Kissing him softly on his cheek she whispered: “Thank you.”

“Is someone here?”
The shrill voice yanked him out of his thoughts. Glancing around the room, Vaughn let out a sigh before he once again rested his gaze on the mirror. But this time the glass only showed him his own reflection, the former pictures erased from the smooth surface. But the voice of Sydney was burned into his mind, the pictures too real to be forced out. This hadn’t been just a fantasy.

“Michél, there you are. Why haven’t you answered the door?” Jacqueline asked, bewildered, but stopped in the middle of the room when she noticed Vaughn’s look.
“Is everything okay, Michél?” Stepping next to him, Jacqueline laid a hand on his forehead to see if he had a temperature. “You look like you have seen a ghost.”

Turning around slowly, Vaughn needed a few moments before he could verbalize an answer. Fear, wonderment, unknowingness, and most of all, curiosity were ruling him. Adrenaline was pumping so fast through his veins that he even forgot his headache.

“I think I have seen a ghost.“

***

Chapter 35 – To hunt and to find

“Okay honey. Now sit and talk to dear Aunt Jacqueline. What is happening with you?“ Sitting down next to Vaughn on the couch, the old lady gave him a steaming cup of coffee. Taking a sip from the hot liquid, Vaughn thought a moment about what he could really tell her. Jacqueline was an old friend of his mother’s, but right at that moment that meant nothing.
Shifting slightly in his chair, Vaughn sighed: “I can’t tell you Jacqueline. I’m sorry. But I need you to help me. Do you have the photos with you?“

Thinking hard about her next step, the woman didn’t know what to do. On the one hand she was dying of curiosity; on the other hand her cute Michél seemed like a heap of misery. Letting her heart rule over her head, Jacqueline retrieved an envelope that had been under her blouse, and placed it on the smooth surface of the desk. The brown paper was crumpled and folded a few times. Sensing Vaughn‘s wonderment, she explained briefly: “The guards checked my purse, I had to put the envelope somewhere else. And the young boys didn’t seem very interested in body checking a old woman like me.“ Snickering lightly, she winked at him.
Presenting Jacqueline with a gentle smile, Vaughn opened the padded envelope. Noticing that his fingers were shaking, he took a deep breath to regain some clarity.

This could be it. This could be the hint he had searched for. Jack’s friends had searched through his luggage and taken the notes from his mother with them. Why, they hadn’t explained. Only that Agent Bristow wanted to have everything conspicuously. These photos in his hands were the only way to comprehend what was happening in this one big conspiracy called his life.

“Michél, damn it. Look at the photos. I’m dying here“, Jacqueline interrupted his thoughts. Meeting her excited look, it took him only a second to retrieve the photographs from the envelope.
Two photos. Both of them old and crumpled, the edges a bit thinner than the rest. Placing them next to each other, Vaughn’s eyes sifted over them quickly, trying to get a first impression.
Taking the first one in his hands, he frowned deeply. The photo showed his mother and another woman. Both of them in light dresses on a sunny day in their former garden in LA. They were laughing into the camera, like they were having much fun. It broke his heart to see his mother this happy, she hadn’t smiled like that in ages. Brushing his fingers over her face, he sighed shortly before looking at the other woman.
The foreign woman, who was standing to the left of his mother was very pretty, he must admit. Her arms were slung around Amélie’s waist in an affectionate way, cheek pressed to cheek. And even though the photo was fuzzy, he could clearly make out the soft contours of her face. This face. He knew it. But from where?

Closing his eyes, he tried to remember when he had seen her lately. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Pale skin. Dimpled smile.

“Her heart is the greatest present you’ll ever receive.”
A soft kiss on the forehead.
Large dimpled smile.


His eyes shot open. Realization washing over him. One, two, three. The sound of her voice filling his ears. Hands shaking. Forehead sweating. Mind too overactive. Pain slicing through his head.
A breathless moment later he took the second photo and his heart stopped once again. It was him and a little baby girl. The exact replica of her mother.

“Wanna hold her?”

And slowly, ever so slowly, he rearranged the pieces of the puzzle until he could get the whole picture. Sometimes life plays you like a fool. And this time he had been fooled over and over again. How hadn’t he noticed the resemblance?

Standing up, he rushed up the stairs, ignoring the loud thud of the fallen down stool. Ignoring Jacqueline’s surprised shout. Ignoring the questions of the guards. Ignoring their grabbing hands. Ignoring his nagging thoughts. Ignoring the demons haunting him.
He ran and ran until he was in his room. Locking it quickly, Vaughn could hear the voices in front of the door. He wouldn’t have enough time, but adrenaline was running through his veins like a drug. He must do this now. Now or never.

Logging into his account of the CIA-site, he waited a few agonizing seconds before the green light flashed and he had access to the database. His fingers flying over the keyboard, he saw how the files were searched through.

1...2...3...4....5...
File found


Opening the requested file, Vaughn scrolled down until he saw the marked abstract.

Mother died...car accident...FBI...drowned...

Taking a deep breath, he clicked on the small sign for attachments next to the name “Laura Bristow”. A new window popped up, and the picture loaded fast. Wiping the sweat off his forehead, he made eye contact with the black and white photograph of the dead woman.
“Oh my god.”

“But Michél, you know Laura’s girl.”

It was the same woman.

“Her name is S....”

“Sydney.” Vaughn whispered astonished.
And the door opened. The guards flooded in. His head bumped hard on the desk. Hands behind his back. Metal slicing into his skin. The taste of blood in his mouth.

“I think we have to observe you a bit more carefully Agent Vaughn. Or I will have to phone Agent Bristow.” One of the guards spat out hatefully while pressing the barrel of his gun to Vaughn’s temple.

“Phone him. I want to talk to Jack.”

The guards backed away. Surprise was written all over their faces.

“Now!” Vaughn added in a shout, his eyes darkened as stormy thoughts invaded his mind. The time had come to let Jack pay.

***

Sitting in her car, Sydney stared at the club. This could be it. This could be the moment she had waited for. Resting her head against the cool window, Sydney sighed deeply, thinking of Vaughn. Once again, she would do something without his permission. But this time there was no other way. Her want for revenge wasn’t her first priority anymore. Truth be told, it left a bad aftertaste in her mouth when she thought about her dark fantasies of Sloane’s death. Her needs and wants had changed ever so slightly. And now she stood in front of this club and could only think about one thing. One man.

Closing her eyes, Sydney ignored the pounding rain outside and the increasing pain inside her head. Life just wasn’t fair to her, she thought, trying not to drown in her own misery.

Vaughn was somewhere. Where, she didn’t know.
And when she would see him again was another topic that gave her sleepless nights. Her body ached to be with him again. Every fiber of her being screamed his name and craved for his touch, his eyes, his voice. But most of all, she needed to talk to him again. He was the key to her dreams.

The beeping of her mobile-phone startled Sydney’s thoughts. Grabbing the flat object, she shut off the alarm and risked a glance in the small rearview-mirror. Her hair was bound in a high ponytail, fake hair expressions giving it a length she hadn’t since high school. Applying a bit of the creamy red lipstick, Sydney was rather content with her look. The skirt was long enough that she wouldn’t attract anybodies attention; her cleavage revealed enough that it would surely help her to distract the guard.

The rain felt good and fresh on her burning skin when Sydney climbed out of her car. Her fears were washed away, leaving only her alias. Striding towards the entrance of the club, she could hear the music fighting its way through the closed door onto the street.

Breathing in, Sydney thought of Vaughn. She would do this for them. For both of them.
Breathing out, she opened the door, her senses working on overload. And she stepped into a new world.
Her perdition.
She just didn’t know it until now.

***
tbc...

And don't forget the little "Reply"-button ;))

Love, D.
 
“She doesn’t eat, she doesn’t come out of her room and she isn’t talking to anyone“ Weiss enumerated. “Except for cursing. Yeah, she’s doing that a lot“, he added with a smile. He didn’t have to be a magician to know that Vaughn’s forehead was furrowed right now. Sighing, he closed his eyes before whispering in a gentle tone, trying to ease his friend’s pain a bit: “She’s missing you, Vaughn, and the situation with her father is more than stressed. I’m sure she would have killed him if they hadn’t been in the middle of the CIA rotunda.“
Awwww :love: And the part where Weiss is like "Except for cursing..." I laughed so hard at that. And then the part where he was like, "She would have killed him if they hadn't been in the middle of the CIA rotunda" made me laugh even more. :lol:

Great update. I can't wait to see what happens next. Thank's for the PM.

off topic: Vienna was sooooo pretty and clean. I stayed in a city outside of Vienna. I loved it.

-erin :smiley:
 
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