Parallels

This is a story that I had the idea for a while ago, and I just realized that it'd work well for an fanfic.

Title: Parallels
Author: BESTSHOWONTV
Rating: PG-13
Ships: S/V, and I may do some W/N. Possibility of some J/I, but I'm not sure yet.
Beta: vartansgurl4lf
Summary: Sydney's almost completely recovered from the car accident in Before the Flood. She gets called in for a meeting at APO and gets a massive shock.

A/N: I had this idea for a while, and I finally realized it'd work for a fan fic. It's going to be LARGELY Sci-Fi, and it starts off angst. The setting of Post-Before the Flood is really because I had an idea of how to start it and I decided to go ahead with it.

Chapter 1
Sydney's POV

The phone is ringing; it has been ringing off and on for the past two weeks. I glance sideways at it, knowing full well who’s on the other end of the line. In my heart, I yearn to pick up the handset, to listen to his deep, reassuring voice as he whispers in my ear that all will be well. I want to run back to him, feel his tight embrace, and never leave him. Yes, I want all of that, but whenever I remember what he said before the accident, I know that I can’t allow myself to give into my desires.

My hand wanders over to the handset, which I lift only enough for the button to spring up, and then I let it go again, silencing the incessant noise. I enjoy the few minutes of silence before the phone shrieks, causing me to repeat the cycle.

“Well, for starters, my name isn’t Michael Vaughn.” Those words still echo in my ears, never leaving. I want to move on, but I can’t force myself to take those first steps.

I glance at the clock, amazed that it’s already 2:00. Grabbing the cane from beside the couch, I struggle to get up and walk over to the freezer. Pulling out the package of hot dogs, I grab a sharp knife and pierce the plastic that holds all eight together. Pulling out two, I toss them haphazardly into a dish, fill it with some water, and put it into the microwave and start it.

The phone rings again. Three rings later, I hear my answering machine click on, and I hear his voice as he records his message. “Syd, we need to talk. Please, Syd, just pick up the phone.” A click signals the end of the message. Walking over as quickly as I can, given my injuries, I press the delete button and go back to waiting by the microwave as my hot dogs finish cooking.

As I sit down, the phone rings again. I’d change my number if I thought it’d do any good. I notice that I’ve forgotten the bun and the toppings, so I get up again, grab what I need and sit down again. Using a fork to get the meat out of the steaming water, I place it in the bun and then put on the ketchup and mustard. I curse as some of the mustard falls on my… actually, I should say Vaughn’s, or whatever the h*** his name is’s shirt. Getting up, I wet a paper towel and blot at the spot, but I know there’ll be a stain.

Another ring penetrates the silence that I have learned to enjoy over the past few weeks, but this ring is different. This ring is the ring of my cellphone, which is to be used only for business. I unclip it from my waist and look at the display. It’s Dad calling.

Though there had been a rift between us earlier this year, since Dad found out about Vaughn’s, or whatever the h*** his name is’s duplicity, he’s been the one person that I know that I can lean on. He’s been through the same thing with Irina; therefore I know I can trust him completely in this situation. “Hey,” is all I say, letting him know I’m there.

“Hello, Sydney.”

“You’re calling me on my cell phone. Is this something business related?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I need you to come in. It’s important.”

“Will ‘Vaughn’ be there?”

“Sydney, when I told Director Chase what Vaughn told you, it became apparent that she knew what he was talking about. She doesn’t feel that his secret is a threat to national security, so I wasn’t able to get him discharged from APO. Yes, Sydney, he’ll be there.”

“Dad, I…I can’t.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t have a choice in this. Sydney, you are ordered to report for this briefing. It directly concerns you.”

“Do you know…Dad?”

That man’s secret?”

“Yeah. Do you know what it is?”

“Director Chase didn’t tell me. I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”

“When’s the meeting?”

“It starts whenever you arrive. Take your time. I love you, Sydney.”

A lone tear comes to my eye. “I love you, too, Dad.”

I walk into my bedroom, noticing the pile of clothes that I took out of Vaughn’s drawer. I still think of him as Vaughn, I think to myself. Changing quickly, I go out to the garage adjacent to the apartment and grab a box. I thoroughly go through my apartment, finding everything of his, and putting it in the box.

When I’m sure I’ve eradicated him from my apartment, I take the box out to my car and prepare to leave.

I pull up at the parking lot by the subway minutes later, and carrying the box, struggle to descend the steps, and enter the door, marked Authorized Personnel Only. Successfully clearing all the security protocol, I enter the hallway that leads to the underground bunker. I take some time to reacquaint myself with some of my coworkers before walking into the meeting room, where he sits. I put the box down by the door and walk over to the empty chair that I know is reserved for me.

Dad looks at the group and nods slightly before beginning. “We received a transmission today that requires our immediate attention." Jack pushes a button and the audio plays through the speakers.

“We need your help!” the woman on the tape says frantically. “Scientists have predicted that the magnetic field is about to reverse. Should that happen, the Earth’s magnetosphere, which helps prevent gamma and X-rays from space would disappear, allowing for the complete power of the sun to bake Earth’s surface, killing every living thing. We need a location to evacuate to. Should we stay on our planet, it’ll be the end of the world. Please help us.”

The transmission ended.

“I don’t get it,” I say, confused. “I thought you said this directly affected me.”

“It does,” Dad says, his face nondescript, but what else is new.

“How?”

“Marshall?”

He stands up before the crowd, and I listen intently as he begins. “Well, Ms. Bristow, it is Ms. Bristow right? It’s not Mrs. Vaughn is it?”

“It’s Ms. Bristow,” I say holding up my bare ring finger, not only for Marshall’s confirmation, but to show him that I’m no longer wearing his ring.

“Okay, then. Ms. Bristow…Sydney, we ran a voice print analysis of the speaker, trying to find out who sent it, and here’s the thing, when it was completed, the results came up with you being the speaker.”

“What?”

“Sydney Bristow recorded that message.”

“I never recorded that. Where’d the transmission come from?”

Marshall swallowed hard.

“Marshall?” I ask, somewhat scared.

“The transmission,” he begins with a sigh. “The transmission came from outer space.”

…TBC…
 
I've been posting one update a day over at SD-1.net, but I've been lagging here, so here are the next 7 chapters while I'm thinking of it.

Chapter 2

Vaughn’s POV
She won’t answer my calls. I’ve been trying to reach her repeatedly for the past few weeks. I know there are times that I’ve annoyed to the point of her either leaving the phone off the hook, or disconnecting the telephone line for a little bit because at times I receive a busy signal. It’s not my intention to annoy her, but I know that if she gives me any time at all, even just five minutes, I can explain myself, and hopefully reconcile with her. I’ve truly missed her. As the saying goes, “You don’t know what you have until you lose it,” and I’ve never realized…cancel that, I realized that when she had “died” after her fight with Francie, excuse me, Allison, but the realization sinks in again.

I hear her pick up, and I frantically beg her to listen to me, but my pleas are instantly met by a dial tone. I know she’s trying to shut me up, and I give her a few minutes before I dial her number again, only to be greeted with a dial tone when she picks up again.

I know she must still be sore from what I told her in the car before that d*** car accident. We were the lucky ones. We were wearing our seatbelts, and according to the medics, that’s what saved our lives; unfortunately the other couple wasn’t so lucky.

I’ve been calling since 10:00 this morning, and it’s already 2:00. Time flies when you’re really bored, I guess. I wait a little more before dialing her number again. Fortunately this time, she allows the answering machine to pick up. “Syd,” I start off, “we need to talk. Please, Syd, just pick up the phone. I wait a few seconds, but when nothing happens, I hang up again.

I know that the constant ringing of the phone is annoying, but if it’ll give me a chance to explain myself to her, I’ll keep it up. I dial the number again. No one answers, and almost as soon as I hang up, I get another call. Answering it, I hear Weiss’s voice at the other end. “Hey, bud, we’re about to have a meeting here at APO. You’re required to show up.”

“Will Sydney be there?”

“Yeah, Jack’s calling her right now.”

“I’ll be there in a bit.” I hang up the phone, change into some better clothes and drive out to APO. When I get in the meeting room, I look for two adjacent chairs so that Sydney will be forced to sit next to me. Jack obviously has already anticipated this, and Wiess and Marshall separate the remaining two free chairs.

The group sits around in silence, and I can see the fury towards me that Jack is very clearly trying to hold in to keep from hurting me. He stares at me, watching my every move. He’s studying me, much like a lion stalks it’s prey before it strikes.

Sydney finally arrives, carrying a box, the contents of which I can clearly make out being some of my clothes, and other miscellaneous things that I’ve left about her apartment in our times together. She takes her seat and Jack begins speaking.

“We received a transmission today that requires our immediate attention.” Pushing a button, a voice that sounds surprisingly familiar to me wafts through the room.

“We need your help!” the voice says, clearly concerned about something. “Scientists have predicted that the magnetic field is about to reverse. Should that happen, the Earth’s magnetosphere, which helps prevent gamma and X-rays from space would disappear, allowing for the complete power of the sun to bake Earth’s surface, killing every living thing. We need a location to evacuate to. Should we stay on our planet, it’ll be the end of the world. Please help us.”

Good God! I think to myself as the transmission ceases.

“I don’t get it,” Sydney says, and I turn to look at her. “I thought you said this directly affected me.”

“It does,” Jack says, and I suddenly realize why I recognized the voice. How could I have not figured it out before?

“How?” she asks, and I open my mouth to speak, but am interrupted by Jack turning the job of explaining the transmission over to Marshall.

He begins nervously, and from what he says, I’m sure that rumors of what happened in Santa Barbara have been floating around APO since our return. He questions her name, checking to make sure she hasn’t taken my last name. She answers by showing him her bare finger, and I want to cry, knowing the pain I’ve put her through.

“Okay, then. Ms. Bristow…Sydney, we ran a voice print analysis of the speaker, trying to find out who sent it, and here’s the thing, when it was completed, the results came up with you being the speaker.”

Though I had figured out that she was the speaker earlier, the obvious question of why would Sydney send that message, and if she did, why doesn’t she remember it comes to the forefront of my mind.

“What?” she asks, obviously confused.

“Sydney Bristow recorded that message.”

“I never recorded that. Where’d the transmission come from?” she insists, though the evidence is pointing the other way.

I see Marshall’s Adam’s apple move as he swallows, and I know that the news he’s about to deliver isn’t good.

“Marshall?”

“The transmission,” he falters here, and I’m hanging on to his every word. “The transmission came from outer space.”

My eyes go big. I’ve learned to accept a lot of things from this job, and the job that I had before it, but this reveal shakes me to my core.

“Marshall, what are you saying?” she asks, trying to get a handle on the situation.

“We pinpointed the location of the transmission at a point far, far away. After we had a location, we had NASA point the Hubble Telescope at it and take some pictures. This is what they came up with.

The screens on the table changed.

“Now this,” Marshall says with a smile, “is extremely awesome. We had the pictures enlarged.” The picture on the screen zooms in some more. I recognize what it is showing, but Weiss speaks up first.

“That looks like the Milky Way,” he says incredulously, and I look at the screen in confusion.

“That’s because in a sense it is,” Marshall continues. “We were able to further magnify the picture. This is the planet that sent the message.” The picture on the screen zooms in again, and I’m looking at a picture of a planet that looks exactly like Earth.

“Oh, my God,” I mutter to myself.

Marshall is silent for a moment as everyone turns to him. “We were contacted,” Marshall said, and then paused for effect, “by a parallel universe. That planet that you see is Earth, except that it’s a parallel version of our Earth. They’re in trouble, and they need our help. They’re going to send an ambassador. We’re going to meet with her in two days. We’re going to discuss options, and then we’ll take action.”

I’ve never seen Marshall be able to give a speech like this without getting sidetracked in some way, and the fact that he didn’t this time shows me just how incredible what we just found out was.

The meeting dismisses and I see Sydney heading for the door. I hurry up and catch up to her, only to get a nice slap across my face.

“Syd,” I beg her. “Just give me five minutes.”

She looks at me, clearly debating whether to agree to these terms. She looks down at her watch. “You’ve got three.”

I look at her. "What do you want to know first?"

"What's your real name?" she asks.

"Before I tell you, I need you to promise me that my family name won't blind you to my real personality. I really don't have much of my dad in me." She looks at me confused and nods.

"My name," I begin, "is..."

...TBC...
 
Chapter 3

Sydney’s POV

I’ve granted him three minutes to explain himself. He asks me what I want to know first. Of all the questions he could ask, what one is more obvious than that? “What’s your real name?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him.

“Before I tell you, I need you to promise me that my family name won't blind you to my real personality. I really don't have much of my dad in me.” I’m confused now, but I nod, allowing him to continue. His most recent words shake me to my core. There are only two names that he could give that would cause a foul taste in my mouth should he say them: Sark and Sloane.

“My name is Dean Kendall, Jr.”

“What?” I ask, completely blown away.

“Kendall, he’s my dad. Well, technically he’s not, Bill Vaughn is my biological father, but I grew up with Kendall.”

“What happened?”

“Dad will kill me if I tell you.”

“What?”

“Kendall has a…problem, and I hope you’re catching my drift because talking about my Dad’s…um…shortcomings in the sack, isn’t exactly comfortable for me.”

I try to hold in my laughter. Thinking of Kendall having trouble in that aspect is just too funny.

“Mom really wanted a child. She went to a sperm bank, and the sperm cell that caught and penetrated her egg was that of Bill Vaughn. Technically, Bill Vaughn is my father, but he was more of a mentor growing up.”

I speak again. “But you said that depending on who you ask, you could be considered a bad guy?”

“Yes, I did.” He pauses, clearly trying to decide how to phrase the next statement. “When we first met, I was undercover for the DSR. As was clear from your experiences with them, the DSR doesn’t have to abide by the typical rules that we who work for the CIA must abide by. We…they are given great liberties, including the right to kill in pursuit of a goal.”

“The DSR has that type of authority?” I ask, shocked.

“Yeah. They use it quite a bit, too. Especially when it concerns Rambaldi.”

The realization of what he had been saying in the car sinks in, and guilt washes over me. I had automatically assumed the worst, when there was a completely logical explanation behind it.

“I’m sorry I was dumping it on you like that, but I figured it wasn’t bad enough to make you not agree to marry me.”

I know my eyes are wide from shock, but as he stands there, apologizing yet again, I close the distance between us and proceed to shut him up by bringing our mouths together in a long, tantalizing kiss.

I pull away quite reluctantly when I hear Weiss clear his throat. “I see he told you,” he says with a nod.

I nod my head enthusiastically, causing him to smile.

“Listen, I’m sure there plenty you two would like to do, but Syd, I’m going to the hospital to see Nadia. I was wondering if you wanted to come with me.”

I look over at Vaughn. Yes, there is plenty of things I’d love to do, but I take Weiss up on his offer, and as I walk away, I remember something. Turning around, I toss Vaughn my keys. “The middle one’s the new key to my front door. Make yourself at home.” I smile at him softly, and run to catch up with Weiss.

…TBC…
 
I am issuing a
<span style='font-size:21pt;line-height:100%'>TISSUE WARNING</span>
for this chapter.

Chapter 4

Weiss’s POV

I stand before the woman of my dreams and I’m sickened. I’m sickened by the thought of just how evil some people on this planet can be. Sickened by what this woman’s own aunt has done to her.

When I first saw her in that hospital bed, restrained and sedated, I pitied her. That pity lasted until she started to wake from the sedatives. The woman I saw then wasn’t Nadia, far from it. This woman didn’t even recognize me.

Though the doctors have told me that there’s no hope, I still hold a glimmer of optimism. I believe that someway, somehow, we’ll find a cure. I believe in vain, and I realize this. APO has brought in some of the world’s greatest doctors and geneticists, but to no avail.

Those doctors have all agreed on one thing: Nadia is no longer Nadia. She’s been replaced by a psychopathic, homicidal maniac that is a danger to both herself and to those around her.

I know I have to accept this. I know that I will lose her. I can’t accept it, though. I can’t accept that the greatest woman ever was turned into a monster by just a little tap water.

When Jack returned, he told everyone at APO about what had happened in Savogda, and all I could think about was how Jack should have injected Elena with the water. Elena was lucky. Her death was quick and painless. She should have suffered. She should have been taken apart, piece-by-piece. A simple bullet through the skull isn’t justice, not even close.

I look over at Sydney. She’s biting her lip. I know she has something to tell me, and I can tell it’s not good news.

“What is it?”

She brushes some hair behind her ear. “I received a letter the other day.”

“What type of letter?”

“It was a letter from the hospital.” Instantly I know what the letter said.

“Due to Sloane being in custody, and ruled not of sane mind, and Irina’s whereabouts being unknown, I’m the next of kin for Nadia.”

Even though society says that men shouldn’t cry, it’s a sign of weakness, I can’t help it because I know what’s coming next.

“The letter included all the opinions of the highly certified doctors that have evaluated Nadia’s condition. The result, without any opposition, is that there’s nothing they can do to save Nadia. They’re asking me to authorize physician-assisted suicide.”

“You didn’t say yes, did you?”

“No, I haven’t. I don’t intend to make any decision until at least two days from now.”

“Why two days?”

“Because I’m hoping that the ambassador from that planet might be able to help.”

“What if he can’t?”

“If she can’t help…” Sydney trailed off shaking her head. “Let’s just not think like that.”

I love Sydney, I respect her greatly, but what she has just said scares me. “If she can’t help, will you authorize it?”

“Do you believe in destiny?”

“What?”

“Destiny? Do you believe that our actions have been predetermined and that no matter what we do, we can’t change what is going to happen?”

“I’d prefer not to.”

“Same here. I have, however, been considering this greatly as of late. I’ve come to one conclusion.”

“What is it?”

“We’ve seen the impossible happen before. It can happen again. I’m not going to give authorization unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“Thank you.”

“Can you take me home?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks.”

We pull up in front of her house a couple of minutes later. Sydney gets out of the car, but then turns around to talk to me again.

“She’s going to be okay.”

The dam breaks, and the tears fall freely. “Thank you,” I choke out.

…TBC…
 
Since this story is Rated PG-13 and will not go into the R category, I am not going to follow up this chapter with a smut one, so plan on chapter 6 either being a Jack, Marshall, or Weiss POV, or else a Syd or Vaughn (AKA Kendall) one the morning after.



Chapter 5

Sydney’s POV

Vaughn obviously made good use of the key. Excuse me, Kendall (man that leaves a sour taste on my tongue) sure made use of the key. I can’t believe he’s Kendall’s son. He’s nothing like him. Sorry, I’m still trying to grasp what I was just told today.

Soft music is floating around the apartment, I can clearly see several bouquets of daisies everywhere (he remembered that they were my favorite), and I can smell the votive candles that I have in various locations of the apartment. I walk forward surveying the scene. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my apartment as beautiful as it is right now.

A wonderful scent bites at my nostrils, and I know that Vaughn is cooking something. Yet another thing I didn’t know about him.

“Just sit back and relax. I’ll take care of this.” He smiles at me, and I obey. I recall the first time that I cooked him dinner. We could have had it hot off the stove, but in the end, we decided to reheat.

"We do have an oven, you know. We can reheat." Little did he know, (or maybe he knew all to well) that reheating had been my plan from the very beginning. (Why else would I have not worn a bra?) I remember feeling his hand on my hand, pulling me into a long, gratifying kiss. I had felt his hand on my side, and the mere contact was making it hard to form a coherent thought.

We had moved back to the bedroom, almost unable to break apart from each other. I had wanted it for so long, and it was finally in reach. Never had I desired anything as much as I had desired what had transpired that night.

We didn’t reheat at all that night. Our meal had been enjoyed by Will and Fran…Allison, excuse me, at about 10:00.

We didn’t care. We were far to “busy.”


I quietly walk up behind Vaughn, as he shuts off the stove. He turns and smiles at me. “Dinner’s ready,” he says with a smile.

I kiss him. “We do have an oven, you know. We can reheat.” I know, however, that whatever he made won’t get reheated in the immediate future.

As he lays on the bed, clearly ready for the night to start, I make him wait long enough to slip on the engagement ring before I slip everything else off.

…TBC…
 
Chapter 6

Jack’s POV

“Space,” I mumble to myself. “Extraterrestrials. Parallel universes. When did my life become a sci-fi movie?” I shake my head and think about the times when all I had to worry about was some terrorists getting their hands on a nuclear bomb. Ah, for the good old days. Nowadays I have to worry about Sydney going on all those dangerous missions, her relationship with that imposter who I had just welcomed into the family, and a planet that’s about to get cooked from the sun’s rays being directed full-force onto the surface of that planet, not to mention the fact that I’m sure Director Chase knows that I let Irina go and my continuing treatments with Dr. Liddell for my radiation poisoning. Sure, I’m almost completely cured, but I still have a little radiation in me.

As I enter my humble little apartment, I see that Laura is out of water. I fill her bowl and sit down on the couch to read the paper. Most people say, “There’s no news like bad news,” but with what I see on a day-to-day basis, reading about carjackings, muggings, and the occasional homicide is like a ray of light through the darkness. It’s nice to know that there are people out there that are more concerned with taking someone’s car than taking over the world using a giant floating red ball in conjunction with some contaminated water that my daughter’s half-sister’s father primed for an attack such as this.

As Laura comes in the window and starts licking up the water, I stare at the little ball of fur. I found her in an alleyway; someone had dumped her in a cardboard box. As I had walked by the box, a small meow had sounded and I looked down at the little calico cat rubbing against my leg.

I had no intention of adopting her. The idea of having a pet, well frankly it scared me. Having this little creature free in my house to urinate wherever she darn well pleases, scratching up my furniture, and shedding hair all over the place didn’t appeal to me.

When I got to the apartment, I walked inside, leaving the little creature outside. After all, she wasn’t my cat. I had pretty much forgotten about her until the next morning on the way to work, when, lo and behold, there she was, waiting. She looked up at me with those brown eyes that reminded me so much of Laura’s (Irina’s) eyes, that I picked her up and, after clearing it with the landlord, took her up to my apartment.

That was the first day I had been late to work in over 40 years, but coming home to that little fur ball made it all worth it.

Ever since Sydney had to come to my apartment to look for me, she’s been giving me miscellaneous cat toys on about a weekly basis. Those simple, yet touching gifts stopped after the car crash.

"That bastard,” I think to myself. “Tomorrow, I’m going to get an explanation from that man.

I remember seeing Sydney talking to Vaughn, or whoever he is, after our meeting earlier today. That couldn’t have been easy on her. I grab the phone. Pressing speed dial 1, I listen to three rings, and then hear an out of breath Sydney answer.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, Sydney,”

“Hey, Dad.”

“Is everything all right?”

“Everything is—stop it, that tickles—everything is fine. Listen, stop it, Dad’s on the…” she laughs, and eventually manages to choke out, “phone.”

“Are you ‘busy’?” I feel odd asking such a question.

“Yeah, kinda.”

“I was just wondering if you were okay. I saw you talking to Vaughn, er, well, you know, earlier.”

“Dad, his name is Kendall.”

I say nothing.

“Dad?”

I want to say something, but I can’t think straight. I press the end button, and then grab my pants off the floor. Unholstering my gun, I eject the magazine, check that it’s fully loaded, and push it back in.

I grab my car keys and leave Laura to her freshly filled water. I have business to take care of.

…TBC…
 
Chapter 7

Vaughn’s (Kendall’s) POV

Sydney looks so much like an angel when she’s sleeping. There are several times that I have to pinch myself to make sure that this isn’t all a dream. I look down at my wrists. The red lines from the handcuffs are still there, and I massage them gently as I sneak out of bed and into the kitchen.

I take the casserole dish from out of the oven, and start mixing together some pancake batter. I locate the chocolate chips easily. (I really need to thank Will for that conversation we had that one time.) Tossing a good amount into the mix, I start pouring the batter onto the heated griddle.

I walk over to the freezer next and pull out a can of concentrated orange juice. After finishing that up, I walk out to the little garden Sydney keeps behind the apartment, and, paying careful attention to the location of the thorns, I cut a rose, and as I walk back to the apartment, I realize the door is locked.

I look around in horror. (I probably should have mentioned earlier that I hadn’t yet taken the time to clothe myself.) I rap lightly on the door, a rap that yields no response. I knock harder, but, again, nothing happens.

Knowing I’m going to get hell about this, I sneak over to Weiss’s back door and knock quietly. I see some movement, the rustle of the curtain, and then the door slides open. “Vaughn, what the hell?”

“Can I borrow some clothes?”

With a smirk, he shakes his head, as he walks back to his room. He returns a few minutes later with a bundle of clothes.

“You know, Vaughn, I knew quite well what you two were doing last night. Would you mind keeping it down in the near future?”

Considering the situation I’m in now’s not the time to crack a joke. “I’ll talk to Syd. Thanks.”

“What are buddies for.”

I dress quickly, and then walk around to Sydney’s apartment, grab her spare key, and stick it in the door.

It doesn’t work. That’s when I remember Sydney having tossed me the new key to her apartment.

I hate to wake her, but I have no choice. I ring the doorbell. She comes to the door a few minutes later, looking completely disheveled, but, in true Sydney style, hot as hell.

“What’s going on?”

“I locked myself out.” She groans and steps aside, and I let myself in.

“What are you wearing?”

“Some of Weiss’s stuff?”

“Why?”

“Because I left my clothes in here.” She begins to snicker. “Don’t laugh at me,” I say as I run my finger along her body. She twitches and cunvulses as I find the spot I know that she’s the most ticklish at, and begin attacking it, first with my finger, and then with my tongue. (It’s nice to see that I can still turn her into a giggling mess.) My phone rings making me stop what I’m doing.

“Vaughn,” I answer.

“Son, you’ll never guess who came to visit me last night.”

“Jack.”

“So you do know.”

“Yeah. I told Sydney. She gave him just enough last night on the phone that he was probably able to deduce everything.”

“You told Sydney everything?”

I look over at her. “Everything that matters. Yeah, why?”

“Even about that message?”

“What about the message?”

“Remember, back at the DSR…”

“That was just an old wives’ tale. Wasn’t it?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Dad, does Area 51 really exist?”

“Of course it exists.”

“You know what I mean. Is it true that they’ve got an dead alien and a space ship?”

Silence again.

“Dad, what are you saying?”

“Perhaps they’re coming back in larger numbers this time.”

“Dad, trust me, we’ve already figured out that the transmission came from a parallel universe.”

“What?”

“Dad, it’s no conspiracy theory. It’s a parallel universe.”

“Is it Earth-347, Earth-434, or Earth 452?”

“I believe it’s actually a parallel universe we don’t know about.” Sydney’s looking at me funny now. “Old DSR stuff,” I mouth to her. I turn back to the phone. “I thought the Parallel versions of the DSR agreed on rules. I thought there was supposed to be no contact!”

“That was the rules, but if this is a new universe, then perhaps they don’t know the rules. Listen, I need to be there for the meeting.”

“I’ll talk to Director Chase. Hopefully she can pull some strings.”

“Good. I’ll talk to you tomorrow if we’re lucky, then.”

“All right. Talk to you then.” I hang up. Sydney’s waiting for me with her hands on her hips.

“What exactly do you know about this transmission?”

“Syd?”

“Yeah?”

“You may want to sit down for this.”

She complies, and I begin. “When I started with the DSR, I was just a analyst. I’d receive reports about the paranormal, check the facts, and decide if there was enough evidence to send in an agent. One of my first reports was about the sudden influx of discoveries of communications from other planets. These transmissions were odd. Sometimes they were years behind, sometimes they were…well…we were years behind. There was one transmission I picked up that was from 3125.”

“A. D?”

“A. D. So, here we are picking up all these transmissions, and when we start pinpointing their locations, we were able to verify the locations of over 500 parallel universes.”

“Five-hundred?”

“Five-hundred. This transmission, it appears to be from a universe that we don’t even know about yet, and by the time I quit the DSR, we were up to 511 parallel universes.

“What scares me most is that they’re facing a crisis that scientist have been warning is coming nearer and nearer for our planet, and the fact that it’s your voice on that transmission means that it’s going to happen sometime in our lifetime.”

“This is going to happen to Earth?”

“Quite possibly.” I sigh. “Plus, we’ve never actually received a ambassador from a parallel universe before, and with some of the theories going around, if they arrive here, it could very well be the end of the world.”

…TBC…
 
This is either going to be the last chapter before I go, or the second last chapter before I go. (I have a wedding in Texas and I'm leaving EARLY Thursday morning)

Also, I'd suggest either Listening to Cat's in the Cradle after reading this, or reading the lyrics. It's a powerful song, and I believe that it works well with this chapter.

Chapter 8

Jack’s POV

He walks in this morning with my daughter. I know I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am. After what he kept from her, I’m surprised that she’s forgiven him. I guess I should be glad, though, because if Sydney couldn’t find it in her heart to forgive him, then I know I wouldn’t have been given as many chances as she has given me.

I intend to have a long discussion with him later today, but first I must head up the meeting. My phone rings and my hand goes down to my waist where I unclip my phone and, flipping it open, bring it to my ear. “Bristow,” I say gruffly, and I hear an authoritative female voice on the other end. “Agent Bristow, it’s Director Chase.”

“Good morning. How’s Dixon?”

I may have hit a nerve, because I hear her sigh, and then she answers. “He’s getting better.”

“Good.”

“Yeah.”

An awkward silence passes. “Agent Bristow?”

“I’m here.”

“We’ve been ordered by the DSR to allow an agent to join APO for the meeting with the ambassador.”

“If I may ask, ma’am, who’s the agent?”

“Agent Kendall. I believe you two know each other?”

My memories drift back to last night. “Yeah, I know him.”

~ ~ ~ ~

“Who is it?” his voice calls out as I stand on his front porch.

“Jack Bristow.”

I hear locks coming undone, and Kendall steps out in full view, dressed in dark blue pajamas.

“What’s going on?”

I pull out my gun. “You have five minutes to tell me everything you know about Agent Vaughn, and don’t lie to me. I’m not in the mood to be played.”

He sighs. “Come on in.”

I walk in the front door. “Tea? Coffee? Water?”

“Nothing, thanks.”

He heads for the kitchen. “You don’t need your gun. I’m perfectly willing to talk. What I’m about to tell you only has historical significance, anyway.”

I click the safety on, and Kendall returns with a mug of hot tea. “Tell me what you know, and I’ll fill in from there.”

“Sydney and Vaughn were in Santa Barbara, celebrating their engagement.” Kendall nodded, apparently fully aware of the circumstances. “Sydney told me that they were confessing their love for each other when Vaughn said he needed to tell her something. She said he could handle it, as long as he wasn’t a bad guy, to which he didn’t respond. Why didn’t he say anything?”

Kendall took a long sip. “Vaughn was DSR.”

“Was?”

“He quit when Sydney died.”

I nod, remembering that period of time.

“Before they met, Vaughn was rising rapidly at the DSR.”

“How’s that make him a bad guy?”

“It really doesn’t, but the DSR isn’t looked upon fondly by those who know about it. That’s probably what he was getting at. It’s nothing really, it just depends on who you ask.”

“So his association with the DSR is what made him a 'bad' guy.”

“That was probably his reasoning.”

“He said it went back to before they met, and that it was the reason they met.”

“We inserted him into the CIA to become her handler. We knew Sydney played a role in Rambaldi’s endgame, but we were unclear as to what it was. We needed to find out.”

I nod in concentration. “What about his name? What is it?”

Kendall nods slowly. “Dean Kendall, Jr. He’s my son.”

“But he doesn’t look like you.”

“He’s not biologically my son, but me and my wife, we raised him.”

“Who’s son is he really, then?”

“Bill Vaughn. Jessica couldn’t…We were having troubles…” he stopped there and I got his point. “If you tell anyone, you’ll wish you hadn’t.”

“It’s no one else’s business.”

“But, since we were having problems, Jessica suggested going to a sperm bank, so we did. We didn’t want just anyone to be our babies father, so we asked some people from work, including Bill Vaughn.”

“But I thought he was CIA?”

“He was,” Kendall nods, “later in life. When we knew him, he was DSR.”

I nod slowly in understanding. “We asked several friends, and eventually, Jessica got pregnant. When Vaughn was born, we had him tested to see just whose sperm fertilized the egg. It ended up being Bill Vaughn.”

“Oh, that explains the appearance aspect.”

“When Vaughn was growing up, we didn’t feel it was right to lie to him. He knew I wasn’t his biological father, and he and Bill did a lot together. He basically grew up with two dads, his biological father, and the father who raised him.

“Then Irina killed Bill, and he was heartbroken. Jessica and I were…having difficulties, but this time it wasn’t…you know…sexual. This time it was problems with our marriage. I came home from work one day and…she was gone.”

I start to notice Kendall’s eyes fogging over, and I realize that it still hurt him to remember that time in his life.

“You don’t have to go on if you don’t want to.”

He looks down, takes a deep breath, and looks up again. “I can keep going.

“I saw her again at the custody hearing. They decided that with my job, and the amount of time I spend away, that I wouldn’t be a fitting father. They awarded her sole custody. It hurt. It really did.”

“I remember times like that with Sydney. I was gone a lot. Even on some big occasions. Can I tell you a secret?”

Kendall looks over at me. “What?”

“Promise you won’t tell?”

“Of course.”

“Cat’s in the Cradle makes me cry.”

Kendall looks at me, eyes wide. “I know. It fits so well.”

“Well in my case, Sydney actually did learn to walk while I was on a mission. I missed her first word. ‘Bunny,’” I say, and bite my lip to keep from showing any telltale signs of emotion. “She said, ‘Bunny,’ and I wasn’t there to hear her say it.”

“Vaughn’s first word was ‘Da-da.’”

“Did you hear him say it?”

Kendall shook his head. “I was in Cairo.”

“Paris for me.”

We both nod knowingly.

“You want to see some pictures?”

“Sure.” Kendall got up, and as he walked away, I speak quietly.

“I’ll take some tea, too.”


~ ~ ~ ~

“You two used to work together at JTF, right?” Chase asks, bringing me back to reality.

“Yeah, JTF, right.”

“Is everything all right, Jack?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” I hang up, and head for the meeting room. Clearly Weiss is making fun of Vaughn for something, but I don’t know what.

I clear my throat and everyone looks up at me.

…TBC…

Jen-Jen
secretagent03
spy_girl21
SpySyd2010
sydneyluvsvaughn4eva
ubielecki
Wild_Child
 
wow wow wow wow wow wow is all i can say. That's just really weird seing Kendall as Vaughn's father. Just weird. Hmm... :Ponder: intresting

Thanks for the PM! Have fun in Texas!
 
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