Dirty Little Secret

Author: Janet (SkyGirl5)

Genre: S/V, AU

Summary: Whatever happened to Sydney Bristow that made her so guarded and untrusting? That's what Michael Vaughn wonders about his personal assistant every day.

Disclaimer: Sydney, Vaughn, etc are properties of JJ Abrams and ABC.

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Chapters 1-10 // Chapters 11 - 20 // Chapters 21-25 + Epilogue

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Chapter 1

“Come on! Come on!” thirty-year-old Michael Vaughn groaned to the car in front of him. Apparently, the driver of that vehicle was enjoying his break far more than his gas pedal. Of course, no matter how much Michael cursed and shouted at that person, it would do no good; there was no way the person could hear him when taking into account the distance between their cars and the surrounding noise of idling engines. Somehow, though, the shouting made Michael feel a little bit better; it released his already sky-high tension.

He was late; very late, in fact. He should have been at his destination half an hour earlier, yet there he was, trapped by Los Angeles’s gridlock traffic for the millionth time. A native to New York City, driving in gridlock traffic was still something he was getting used to. Of course New York had its fair share of traffic snarls as well, but he was never driving in them, merely riding. When riding, one could accomplish other tasks like phone calls, reading notes and other such things. Doing such things while driving only increased one’s chance to cause an accident, as he had painfully learned the hard way… twice. Though he had been in LA for over five years, he still was not used to driving in traffic and was unsure he would ever get used to it.

After another ten minutes of curses and jerky starts and stops, he finally arrived at his destination: a studio back lot where a music video was being shot for an up and coming artist known as Big D. Michael, as a representative of BMG Records, was asked to attend the video shoot to make sure everything was going well and that Big D was satisfied with the shoot. This reason, of course, was how the record company explained Michael’s presence to artists with volatile tempers and short fuses. The real reason for his attendance was so he could check up on things, considering the record company was footing the bill for the video and they needed to make sure their seventy thousand dollars was being spent wisely.

Michael parked his Atlantic blue 650i BMW convertible very poorly in the nearest free parking space, taking up two spaces in the process, before getting out and slamming the door behind him. He pocketed his keys as he walked towards the collection of trailers that were set up for Big D’s video. As he walked, Michael spotted the artist across the lot and plastered on his schmoozing face. As a general rule, Michael did not dislike music artists; they were ordinary people who he did not know at all and thus had no reason to dislike them. Sure, there were a few who were very full of themselves, caught up in their singing talent and there were some others who were spoiled brats, spending every dime of their millions as it rolled in, but as a general rule they were not all that bad (especially if required time in their presence was minimal). Except Big D, that was.

Michael only had the displeasure of meeting him twice before, but even in the collective twenty minutes they spent together, it was easy to tell Big D was not exactly a nice person. For starters, Big D, unlike the vast majority of BMG’s artists, was a singer (term used loosely) who specialized in the art of rapping. The fact that Michael had an intense distaste for rap music made it immediately difficult for Big D to get on Michael’s good side. Plus, Big D did not seem to be very friendly or kind, which only succeeded in hurting him even more in Michael’s eyes. Michael was at a loss to understand the reasoning for BMG taking on such an artist since rap was not their forte. He was even more stunned that Big D accepted BMG’s contract instead of holding out for one of the labels that had a reputation for marketing rap artists. Of course, his shock was partly influenced by his pure detestation for having to work with such a person, but since it was his job he had to do it with a smile on his face whether he liked it or not.

“Big D, how ya doin’, Man?” Michael greeted the larger man with an outstretched hand. Big D merely looked down at Michael’s hand, saying nothing. “Right,” Michael said, retracting his hand, “So, how’s the shoot going?”

Big D said nothing, but instead walked away with the few men surrounding him following. “Well, politeness is key,” Michael muttered under his breath. He then walked off to see if he could find Big D’s manager, who was far from cordial, but at least more so than Big D himself. Michael walked over towards the makeup trailer, on the way passing several girls in skimpy attire who were obviously dancers in Big D’s video. Behind the makeup trailer, Michael finally spotted Big D’s manager, only he was not alone. On either side of him stood two men, neither of whom Michael recognized, but they appeared to be crowded around a woman dressed similarly to the dancers Michael had just passed. Michael stopped walking, debating whether he should turn around, walk away and talk to Big D’s manager later on, or approach this strange group of people. Just as he was about to turn around and walk away, one of the men reached out and slapped the dancer across the face while another reached out and grabbed her arm what seemed to be painfully tight.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Michael called out to them, concerned for the woman’s welfare. At the sound of his voice, all the men but Big D’s manager scattered. The manager then shouted to the girl that she was fired, before stalking off himself. Tears streaming down her face, the dancer picked herself up from the back of the makeup trailer that she was leaning against and began to walk towards Michael. She tried to pass him with her eyes trained on the ground, but he reached out a gentle hand to touch her arm as she went by. “Are you alright?” he asked sincerely.

From her reaction to his touch, one would have thought he had electrocuted her. She jumped about two feet away from him, nearly stumbling due to the high heels she was wearing. “I’m fine,” she snapped, keeping her eyes firmly onto the ground. She kept on walking without glancing back towards him. Sighing, Michael walked off in the opposite direction, needing to talk to Big D’s manager.

Twenty minutes later, Michael was finally able to leave. The video shoot was going fine without him, despite the firing of one of the dancers. He made his way back to his car but, on the way, he spotted the ousted dancer walking across the blacktop barefoot, high heeled shoes in hand along with a backpack slung over one shoulder. Michael watched her walking slowly, almost limping, for a moment before his boy scout-like instincts over took him and he rushed over to her. “Excuse me! Excuse me, Miss! Excuse me,” he called, trying to catch her attention.

She didn’t turn around until he was practically on top of her at which point she snapped, “What?!”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, taking a step back, “I just… I wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m fine,” she snapped, continuing on her way.

“Are you sure? I mean…you’re limping and-”

“I’m fine,” she repeated.

“How about I give you a ride?” he offered.

With that, she turned around, her eyes narrowing. “Oh you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Luring me into your car so that you can take me somewhere and have your way with me because, after all, I’m just the slutty dancer, right?”

“What?!” Michael practically shrieked at that insinuation. “No, no Miss, I assure you that’s not the case at all. It’s just…you’re not wearing your shoes and… and I thought you might like to ride somewhere instead of walking wherever you’re going without shoes on or with those high heeled things, which would probably be worse,” he laughed in an attempt to lighten the situation.

“Oh,” the woman said in a very short tone that indicated slight guilt from her previous outburst. She then looked down at her already blackened feet for a solid minute before responding. “Yeah, okay,” she sighed.

“Great,” Michael smiled. “My car’s just over there…. I’m Michael Vaughn, by the way,” he said, leading the way towards his vehicle.

“Sydney,” she said simply.

“Sydney. Is there a last name that goes along with that?” he asked, almost laughing.

“Nope,” she told him.

“Oh….,” he said, unsure of where their conversation could go from there. Once they reached his car, he opened the passenger side door for her and let her step inside before walking around to the driver’s side. “So, where can I take you, Sydney?”

“There’s a bus stop a few blocks away; that’ll be good enough,” she told him.

“Are you sure, because-”

“I’m sure,” she cut him off quickly.

“Okay… so, you’re a video dancer, huh? That’s… an interesting profession,” Michael said to her with a sideways glance. She gave him a very irritated look that caused him to clear his throat and sigh, “Okay, so what about-”

“Listen, Mr. Fancy Record Label Guy,” she cut him off. “I just want a freakin’ ride, okay; this isn’t Oprah.”

“Sorry,” he said quietly, taken aback slightly by her harshness.

They drove in silence until Sydney pointed up ahead and said, “There. You can stop there.”

Sighing, Michael drove to the spot she indicated and then pulled over along the side of the road. Before she could get out of the car he stopped her. “How about a job? One where you wouldn’t get abused,” he offered. She gave him an utterly confused look. “I’m looking for a new personal assistant and-”

“I don’t do slavery,” she cut him off.

Groaning in frustration, he pulled a business card from his pocket and pressed it into her hand. “If you change your mind.”

“I won’t,” she assured him before getting out of the car and slamming the door behind her.



Chapter 2

“Mike, buddy, how was Big D?” Michael’s coworker, fellow BMG representative, and best friend Eric Weiss asked later that afternoon, when Michael had returned to the office. In response to this question, Michael moaned loudly and slammed his forehead down on his desk. Eric chuckled, “Figured as much. I’m shocked you were gone that long.”

“Well,” Michael sighed, “there was this girl…”

“Quickie on the way home?” Eric asked, sitting down in the chair across from Michael’s desk. Michael gave him an unappreciative glare. “What? I do it all the time. That’s what it’s all about when you’re a fat cat record label representative,” Eric sighed as he stretched and put his hands behind his head.

Michael shook his head in disgust. “Anyway no, it was one of the dancer girls for the video- would you stop that!” he shouted at Eric’s suggestive eyebrow raising. “I gave her a ride to the bus stop, but before that I saw Big D’s manager and this group of thugs beating on her.”

“For real?” Eric asked, sounding surprised.

Michael nodded. “Yeah, they slapped her across the cheek and lord knows what they did to her before I got there. I felt so bad for her… she seemed really sad – hostile, but sad,” he laughed slightly. “I offered her a job as my PA-”

“ARE YOU NUTS?!” Eric shouted. “She could be a rapist!”

“Yes, you’re right – I do need to be concerned about all the rapists that are out there,” Michael said in a dry, even tone indicating his sarcasm.

“You do! She could tie you to your office chair and rape you… actually,” he began, a sly grin crossing his face as he rubbed his chin.

“Eric!” Michael cut him off. “Focus.”

“Right, sorry, done now.”

“Anyway, she turned me down so you don’t need to worry about her raping me,” he said with a slight eye roll.

“Oh good,” Eric said as he stood from the chair he was sitting in and began to back his way out of Michael’s office. “Always concerned for your safety, Mikey. See ya around,” he grinned before disappearing back out into the hallway.

Michael sighed, shook his head and tried to focus on his work. This of course, was easier said than done. He could not help but think about Sydney and wonder if she was able to catch her bus alright. Sitting there, he could not for the life of him explain what, exactly, had compelled him to offer her a job completely out of the blue. Normally, he required extensive background checks on potential employees. Well, not extensive, but far more than just a first name. True, the sympathy he felt for her being smacked in the face for no reason at all had influenced him, but only to a certain degree. He felt compelled to help her, but he had no idea why.

His phone ringing jolted him from thoughts of Sydney. There was no use dwelling on it; he’d never see her again.

~*~

In the next few days, Michael fell into the steady, albeit sometimes unpredictable, pattern that was his life. Contradictory, perhaps, but his life was steady in its unpredictable nature; things arose instantaneously that had him racing across town and sometimes across the country (for example, there always seemed to be some sort of snafu to patch). His life in LA followed a similar pattern as it had in New York City, which was ironic, since he moved out to LA to achieve a change of pace.

In New York, he worked for his father’s smaller record company. After his father’s death, though, he decided to move across the country for a change; a way to start over, so to speak, without being surrounded by his father’s reputation. He was doing practically the same job as he had been doing in New York, at least, in title. The job was drastically different, though, since BMG was a massively larger company than his father’s had been. For example, Michael’s client base alone spanned over a dozen people, whereas his father’s entire company had barely that many.

Michael enjoyed his job, though, and the perks that came with it, most notably his mansion in the Hollywood Hills. He preferred this over the apartment he’d had in New York City. Though his apartment had been nice, it lacked the grass, shrubbery, flowers and pool he had at his house.

Michael’s high profile job came with a lot of nights out on the town, attending different parties with artists BMG represented. While rubbing elbows with the ultra rich and famous had its high points, there also came a point where Michael just could not stomach attending another one of the same parties where the same group of people danced and drank into the wee hours of the morning. That’s why he cherished his nights off. On those nights, he made no plans except to spend some quality time with his TV, his couch, and Daisy, his golden lab.

Thankfully for him, after a long day of driving up and down the California coast searching for an artist gone AWOL, he was able to have one of those nights. He picked up a pizza on the way home, along with some doggie treats for Daisy. When he pulled his BMW into his garage that evening, he could already hear her barking. Knowing she’d pounce on him the moment he opened the door and thus send his pizza flying, he readied one of the doggie treats and threw it in the door ahead of him, momentarily distracting Daisy. “I see ya, you crazy mutt,” Michael rolled his eyes as she barked at him and then licked the floor where her treat had landed.

He let Daisy out into the fenced backyard while he enjoyed his pizza dinner. Then he let her back in and the two of them settled in front of the TV, Daisy on the couch, Michael on the floor (backwards, yes, but it worked for them), to watch a Pay-Per-View movie. Before the movie came on, a music video was playing and Michael could not help but think back to Sydney and wonder what exactly she was doing, especially since she had been fired from Big D’s video. Was she working on another video where, god forbid, someone was hitting her there, too? Sighing, he shook the thought from his mind; even if that were true, there was nothing he could do to change it, so there was no use dwelling on it.



Chapter 3

On Monday morning, almost a week and a half after the music video incident, Michael received a very unexpected phone call. When his secretary told him that Sydney, the bus stop girl, was on the line for him, he could not figure out for the life of him who that was, until suddenly it hit him. Sydney, the bus stop girl, was Sydney, the Sydney he had thought about frequently for the past week and a half. He immediately told his secretary to put her through and when the line clicked, indicating that the call was patched through correctly, he said, “Sydney, the bus stop girl – you know, you should get a business card that says that.”

“Thanks,” she said, her voice indicating her lack of appreciation for his joke.

“So, to what do I owe this pleasure? I must admit, I’m surprised to hear from you,” Michael said.

“Yeah well… I was just wondering if you were serious about that job offer… you know, if you’re not, that’s cool too. I was just curious,” she said in a supremely casual tone that made Michael laugh.

“Yes, it is. In fact, why don’t you come in for a formal interview? Are you free today?” he asked her.

“I suppose…,” she said in the same casual tone. “What time?”

“Anytime this afternoon works for me; I’ll be in the office all day,” he told her.

“Fine, how about… one thirty? It’s that address on your card, right?”

“Yep, see you then,” Michael said. Then, he hung up with a smile on his face. He enjoyed getting his way as much as the next person did, sometimes even more, but he definitely enjoyed it more when it meant helping Sydney out.

~*~

“Sydney, it’s wonderful to see you again,” Michael smiled when she walked into his office. Instead of wearing the dancer outfit she had been wearing the first time he saw her, she was dressed in black pants and a light blue button down collared shirt, looking very professional.

“Nice to see you, too,” Sydney said quietly, shaking his extended hand. Michael ushered for her to sit down across from him and she did so. “So, what exactly does this job entail? Personal assistant…,” she said that job title in a tone that made it clear she had no idea what it was.

“Well, really,” Michael said casually as he sat down behind his desk, “it’s a cross between being my secretary and being my slave-”

“See ya,” Sydney said, standing quickly from the seat she was in.

“Chill,” Michael laughed. “I was joking. Please sit,” he told her seriously. She gave him a skeptical look, but took a seat once more. “Seriously, it would involve running some errands, filing some papers, coming with me to some events…Oh! and going to my house and letting Daisy out while I’m away.”

“Daisy? Is that your girlfriend?” Sydney asked with a raised eyebrow.

Michael gave her an annoyed look. “Daisy is my dog. So, do you think you can handle that?” he asked.

“How much?” she asked.

“What? How much you get paid or how many hours you work a week?” he asked. When her response was ‘both’ he told her, “Twelve dollars an hour and it depends. You’d work the normal nine to five and then depending on what events we have, there’d be some evening hours.”

“I see,” Sydney said shortly.

About three minutes of silence hung between them before Michael said, “So…? You in?”

“What happened to your last PA?” Sydney asked

“What?” Michael asked, confused by her question. “I fired him, bu-”

“HIM? It was a man? Why’d you fire him?” she questioned.

“Yes, it was a man. He was gay and-”

“YOU FIRED HIM BECAUSE HE WAS GAY?! What kind of a person are you?!” she demanded.

“If you would let me finish,” he growled at her, “I was going to say, ‘but I fired him because he was stealing from me.’”

“Oh,” she said, lowering her eyes. “That’s a good reason then…”

“Uh huh,” Michael nodded. “So, you want the job or not?”

“Well… can I have it on a trial basis?” she asked cautiously.

Michael almost laughed out loud. “Trial basis? Are you kidding me?”

“Fine. Forget it,” Sydney said as she stood up and walked towards the door.

“Hold it,” Michael stopped her. “Alright, alright – trial basis, but you still have to fill out all the proper employment forms and stuff, alright?”

“Alright,” she sighed.

“Good, now let’s start with your last name,” he told her.

“Don’t have one.”

“Nice try,” he gave her a look.

“Smith,” she told him quickly.

“Sydney Smith?” he questioned. She nodded. “I see, so do you have a driver’s license? Birth certificate? Any form of identification?”

“No,” she said quietly.

“Oh, I see. So, do you have a social security number or should I go ahead and call Krypton for your information?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Just give me the forms,” she mumbled to him.

Michael could not help but laugh as he left his office to get the proper forms. Despite the fact that she frustrated him beyond words, he found her very amusing. She annoyed him when she constantly cut off his sentences, but not so that he wanted to stop talking to her, only enough to make him want to laugh. He knew that working with her was going to be something he wasn’t even near prepared for, but yet, at the same time, he was looking forward to it.

For the next hour, Sydney filled out all the forms Michael handed to her. The fact that she used the name Sydney Smith on those forms concerned him on some level, but he decided to deal with that later. “Well congratulations, you’re employed,” Michael smiled at her. She gave him a half smile in return. “Okay. So, how about you arrive tomorrow at nine and we’ll go from there.”

“Dress code?” she questioned.

“What you’re wearing is fine,” he told her.

“Fine,” she said, turning to go away.

“You realize this job requires at least some people skills, right?” he called after her.

“Yeah, I’ll work on it,” she called back before disappearing out of his office.



Chapter 4

At nine the next morning, Sydney rolled into Michael’s office dragging a shocking amount of things with her. In addition to the oversized bag that Michael assumed to be her purse, she also had a larger duffle bag slung over her shoulder and a white paper bag clutched in her hand. “Planning on stealing that many office supplies, are you?” Michael asked, gesturing towards the duffle bag with the pen in his hand.

“What? No. I brought a change of clothes; I’ll leave right from here to go to work,” she explained him.

Confused, Michael looked up at her. “As opposed to this… which is play time?” he asked with a crinkled brow.

“No,” she sighed, slightly annoyed, “I bartend a few nights a week to get extra money.”

“Gotcha,” Michael nodded. “Well you can leave those in here. Behind the desk is fine. Then you can take those files over there,” he pointed towards the stack of manila folders on the edge of his desk, “and make copies of them. The copier is down the hall to the right and right next to the ugly green plant.”

“Ugly green plant?” she questioned.

“Trust me, you’ll know what I mean,” he assured her. She eyed him suspiciously before grabbing the stack of folders and disappearing from his office. Fifteen minutes later she returned, files and copies in hand, with a confused look on her face. “Trying to figure out what plant it’s supposed to be, aren’t you?” he asked knowingly.

“It’s just so…,” she let her voice drift off, unable to find the proper term.

“I know, it’s been here for almost a year and I still can’t figure it out,” Michael said with a slight laugh. Much to Michael’s surprise, this elicited a soft smile from her, something he hadn’t yet seen. It wasn’t much, merely one of the corners of her lips tugging a few millimeters upwards, but it was definitely a start.

“So what now?” she asked, lifting up the stack of files in her arms in an attempt to gesture with them.

“Now you take the files and put them back in the cabinets along the walls in the hall – alphabetically by the name on the file tab. Then you take the copies you made and mail them out to the address on the top of the copy,” he explained. Sighing, Sydney nodded her head and left his office once more.

Michael had barely begun reading the contract in front of him once more before he was interrupted by Eric poking his head into his office. “Dude,” he hissed as he cautiously entered the room, “there’s a hot chick out there. Is she new?”

“She’s my new personal assistant,” Michael said in a dull tone, still reading the contract.

“What? Since when? OH!” he gasped so loudly and dramatically that Michael jumped. “You hired the rapist?!” he questioned with horror.

“For the hundredth time she’s not a rapist,” Michael told him. “She’s a…. dancer.”

“That explains why she’s hot,” Eric said, smirk crossing his face. Michael rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna go ask her out.”

“I wouldn’t,” Michael began, but Eric was already gone, “…do that,” he sighed under his breath. This was not going to end well, but hopefully it would at least be amusing. Sitting his desk, Michael approximated about a minute and a half before Eric returned to his office. He was dead on too; a minute and a half later, Eric slunk back in looking miffed.

“She hit me with a file folder,” Eric told him.

Michael couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, I saw that coming. Sydney is… not very sociable.”

“Then why the hell’d you hire her?!” Eric demanded. Michael shrugged as he folded his hands across his stomach; he was still trying to answer that question himself. Eric shook his head at him before leaving Michael’s office.

Later that morning, just as Michael’s stomach was beginning to growl, warning him that the bagel he had eaten for breakfast had long since worn off, Sydney reentered Michael’s office. “Done,” she informed him.

“Excellent. I was just about to go grab some lunch. Why don’t you come with me and-”

“I don’t get to take my own lunch?!” she demanded.

“Well, normally you would, except I thought this would be a good opportunity to take you to meet Daisy,” Michael explained slowly.

“The dog,” she said in a flat tone.

“Do you have a problem with dogs?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

“No; let’s go… but just so you know,” she stopped and spun around at the edge of his office causing Michael to take a step back as her accusatory finger almost poked him in the mouth. “I have mace, so don’t try anything funny,” she warned before continuing walking out of his office. Michael shook his head and rolled his eyes before locking his office door behind him.

~*~

“God, I hate this traffic,” Michael muttered when they came to a dead stop on the highway again.

“If you hate traffic, I’m afraid you live in the wrong city,” Sydney pointed out to him before popping a fry in her mouth. She and Michael had stopped at In and Out Burger to get lunch before starting the drive to her house.

“I know,” he sighed with a sideways glance. “When I first moved here I thought I’d get used to it – wrong.”

“Moved from where?” Sydney asked, minimal curiosity in her voice.

“New York City,” he said.

“Oh yeah, ‘cause there’s no traffic there,” she rolled her eyes.

“You ever been?” he asked. She nodded. “When?”

“Long time ago – look,” she said, her voice turning harsh, “I don’t need any friends, okay? And I certainly don’t need to be friends with my boss, so cool it with the personal questions, okay?”

“Fine, sheesh, I was just making conversation,” he muttered.

They drove the rest of the way in silence, though Michael thought he heard Sydney muttering under her breath once they reached his house. He left his car haphazardly parked in the driveway before getting out and walking into the garage. “Daisy likes to jump up on people,” he warned Sydney, “but she’s harmless, I swear.”

“Great,” Sydney sighed.

He unlocked the door to his house and let them both inside, calling out to Daisy as he did so. She rushed over to him and jumped up with her two paws right at his waist. He scratched her head and baby-talked her for a few moments before grabbing onto her collar and holding her firmly so she didn’t lunge at Sydney. “Go ahead,” he told Sydney, who was looking slightly wary, “I’ve got her, she won’t jump.”

“Hi doggie,” Sydney said quietly, lowering her fingertips towards Daisy’s nose. Daisy sniffed, barked and then lunged towards Sydney, who jumped back about ten feet, nearly smacking her head into the wall in the process.

“Haven’t been around dogs much, have you?” Michael asked with a slight laugh.

“Only little ones that fit in the palm of your hand,” Sydney explained to him.

“Well, Daisy can’t do that, but she thinks she can fit in your lap. It’s sad, really,” Michael laughed. In the process, he loosened his grip on Daisy’s collar and she rushed forward, jumping up to Sydney. Sydney put out her arms in defense and Daisy rested her paws on them as she stood and tried to lick at Sydney’s face. Meanwhile, Sydney stood so frozen with fear, Michael couldn’t help but laugh.

“Get her off, please,” Sydney managed to croak.

“Daisy, come,” Michael commanded as he shook a box of her food. This caused Daisy to rush over to him and start to bark. “She really won’t hurt you,” Michael assured Sydney, who was looking slightly rattled.

“Yeah… sure… I know,” Sydney said, though she didn’t sound convinced at all.

“Would you like to leave now?” he asked in an amused yet knowing tone.

“Please,” Sydney sighed desperately.

“Okay, but don’t worry; you’ll get used to Daisy,” he told her.

“Great,” Sydney grumbled under her breath, “just great.”



Chapter 5

Michael had to admit that the first week of having Sydney as his PA went much better than he’d expected given Sydney’s occasionally slightly sour attitude. He expected many fights and disagreements over the tasks he gave her to perform, but she’d only complained once so far, and considering that incident involved Daisy, he let it slide. Sydney and Daisy were not getting along as well as he had hoped, but he blamed that mostly on the fact that Sydney was not really trying all that much to get over her fear of dogs or whatever it was that sent her screaming any time Daisy lifted a paw.

Michael quickly found that Sydney was a very good personal assistant. Her only real negative quality was that every time he brought up a subject even remotely personal she would react as though he asked her to commit a murder for him. Most of the times his questions about her life were asked unconsciously; something would happen that would spur a question in the way natural conversation would flow. Sydney obviously did not appreciate this judging by the fact that it sent her into a tirade and then caused her to fume for the next half hour. Michael was not quite sure why she was so fiercely protective over her life, but he also knew better than to pry and cause her to yell at him even more.

“Sydney, I was wondering if you were going to be bar tending this evening?” Michael asked her on Thursday just a little over a week after she started working for him.

“No… why?” she asked, her tone suspicious.

“Well, I have to go and watch these two potential new artists perform and I was hoping you’d come with me; I’d appreciate a second opinion,” Michael told her.

“So what? You want a date?” she asked, her voice slowly turning to its hostile, defensive tone.

Michael almost laughed at the mental image of himself being stupid enough to ask her out on a date. Doing such a thing would probably result in him being punched in the face or, at the very least, sprayed with mace. “No, no, of course not. This would be part of your job…as my PA…”

“So,” she began slowly. “You’d be paying me for this?” Michael nodded. “Hmm…why does that make me feel like a hooker?” she asked with a sigh.

Michael laughed. “Well, you’re not even close to being a hooker,” he assured her.

“Alright, I’m in. Where and when?” she asked.

“Well, I can pick you up if-”

“No,” she cut him off quickly. “No, no I’ll be fine. Just tell me where and when.”

“Okay,” he sighed. Given her secrecy, it wasn’t at all surprising that she refused to let him pick her up at her house or apartment or wherever she lived. “It’s at seven and this is the address,” he said, scribbling it down on a tiny piece of paper before handing it to her. “I’ll wait at the front door for you.”

“Okay…oh, what should I wear? I mean, what kinda club is this? Party ‘til dawn night club or fancy swanky piano bar?” she asked.

“I have absolutely no idea; go for something that would work for either,” he suggested.

“You realize nothing would, right?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. He shrugged. “Fine, I’ll figure something out,” she sighed with a slight eye roll. Then, she left his office.

~*~

Glancing down at his watch practically every few seconds, Michael wondered where, exactly, Sydney was. It was after seven and she had yet to arrive at the club. The performer they were supposed to be watching went on stage at seven thirty, which meant he could only wait at the door for a few more minutes before he needed to go and take his seat. Finally, he spotted her walking up the sidewalk dressed in what could have easily be described as a little black dress; it appeared she had found the perfect outfit for the evening after all. He ushered for the club’s bouncer to let her inside and he did so. “Sorry I’m late; missed the bus,” she said, breathing heavily from her quick walking down the sidewalk so as not to be as late.

“It’s fine. Just as well you missed the warm up band,” Michael said while grimacing and tugging at his earlobe, indicating he’d be lucky if his hearing was ever the same again.

“Lovely,” Sydney grimaced.

“Come on,” Michael said as he led the way back through the club. They paused briefly at the bar as Michael leaned over to speak in Sydney’s ear (the only way she could hear him above the band’s music) to ask, “Do you want to get a drink before we sit?”

“I can drink on the job?!” she asked in shock.

“You can have one drink,” he emphasized, holding up his index finger to signify the one.

“White wine,” she shouted to him. He nodded and smiled softly; white wine was his preferred drink, when drinking wine that was. He walked over to the bar and ordered her wine along with a beer for himself. Then, he led the way back through the club and up a narrow set of stairs to their special VIP seating. Thankfully, it was a little more quiet than down on the first floor, or perhaps it just seemed that way since it was less crowded. Michael and Sydney took seats on the couch along with two of Michael’s colleagues and waited for the show to begin.

After the first group there was a short break while the equipment on stage was being adjusted. Thankfully, that break came with silence. Michael took that opportunity to ask Sydney what she thought of the performer and she responded with a so-so hand gesture. “They were alright, I guess. I dunno… you’re the guy with the ear for music.”

“Not really,” Michael laughed. “I mean, I like music and all, but I don’t think I have an ear for it. I like the business end of it more,” he explained. Sydney nodded slightly just as the loud music struck up once more.

“Okay, now that group was hot!” Sydney exclaimed after the second performance. “Seriously, they were awesome.”

“I happen to agree,” Michael smiled at her. Then, he spoke with his fellow BMG record people for a few minutes before turning back to Sydney. “Come on. I’ll drive you, if you want.”

“Nah, that’s okay,” she assured him.

“You sure? It’s late and-”

“I’m fine. Thanks for letting me tag along… I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, giving him a slight wave before heading towards the door.



Chapter 6

The next week passed without any major events or tiffs between Sydney and Michael. There was one minor incident where Eric tried to hit on Sydney and she nearly attacked him with a stapler until Michael stopped her, pleading with Eric not to ask her out anymore. It was painfully obvious Sydney was not interested in dating or opening up to anyone, especially Eric.

One day though, the calm between them broke when Sydney burst into Michael’s office, obviously fuming. She stomped right around his desk so that she was only a few inches away from him instead of having the desk between them. “You haven’t had a personal assistant in two years?!” she demanded of him.

“Uh…,” Michael hesitated, trying to formulate a plausible response; one that wouldn’t leave him with a large red hand print across his cheek.

Sydney let out a frustrated groan as she walked around to the other side of his desk. “So what the hell is this? Did you just see me, the hot dancer girl in my slutty heels and short skirt and go, ‘oh look, a nice piece of ass I can bang?’ Because I’ve got news for you, Michael Vaughn – you will never, ever get into my pants!” she snapped at him.

“Um, okay,” Michael said, so taken aback by her words he was not sure what else to say. “Sydney, what in the world would possess you to think that? Have I given you any indication over the last two weeks that I’m in it for… getting in your pants?” he said quieter.

“You took me to your house!” she accused.

“To meet my dog!” he exclaimed.

“Oh… right…,” she said quieter.

“Sydney, I would never, ever do that. I don’t sleep with my employees,” he told her firmly.

“I-I know that, I just… well, if you haven’t had a PA in two years why the hell did you hire me?!” she demanded.

“Because I thought… I thought you needed help,” Michael sighed quietly.

“What are you?! The help fairy?!!” she demanded.

“Look, I was just trying to do something nice, alright?!” he snapped back to her. “I felt bad you got knocked around by those assholes so I offered you a job, is that so wrong?”

“Yes! Yes, it is!” she shouted at him.

“Why?!”

“Because I don’t need your help, Michael. I don’t!” she shouted.

“Oh really? Then why is it that you took the job?” he challenged. “You’re the one that called me, remember?”

It appeared Sydney was at a loss for words, so Michael continued. “So, maybe you didn’t need help, but maybe you wanted it. Maybe you were sick of getting paid minimum wage to work as something for filthy men to ogle and abuse all day long. I can’t imagine why you’d want to get out of that,” he said with obvious sarcasm.

“Hey!” she snapped. “You don’t know a damn thing about me, so-”

“Because you refuse to tell me even one single tidbit. I don’t even know your real last name for Christ sakes and don’t even give me that face, I know Smith really isn’t it,” he told her.

“It is too!” she retorted.

“But it isn’t the one you were born with, is it?” he challenged. She said nothing. “What are you, on the run from the law or something?”

“Of course not,” she said in a flippant tone. “All you need to know about me is that I’m a good employee. I come to work on time and I do all the stuff you ask me to do no matter how ridiculous I think it is.”

“Well, it is ridiculous,” Michael conceded with a sigh.

“See there!” she exclaimed why pointing to him. “Why do you even need a personal assistant?”

“No one needs a personal assistant – they’re just too lazy to go pick up their own laundry from the dry cleaners, so they get one,” Michael told her.

“So why am I even here?!” she demanded.

“Do you want me to fire you?”

“No…”

“Good, then this conversation is over,” he said simply, turning his attention back to the papers on his desk.

“I don’t need your pity job,” Sydney told him.

“Yes, you’ve made that abundantly clear,” he sighed. They were silent for a minute before Michael looked up to her and said, “Look, tomorrow I have to go to a video shoot at the Santa Monica pier and I’d like you to come.”

“See, that’s the other thing I don’t get about this job,” Sydney said, pointing her finger at him once more. “I don’t do anything when I go with you!”

Michael sighed heavily and rubbed his fingers across his brow. “You realize that a PA job prepares that person for the job they’re PA-ing for… like an internship.”

“Really?” she asked in surprise.

“It can in some cases…”

“But I don’t want your job,” she told him firmly.

Michael practically growled at her. “Could you please stop?!” he begged. She nodded slightly. “Thank you. Now, can I pick you up or… do you want to meet here and we’ll drive down to Santa Monica?”

“Meet here,” Sydney told him.

“Fine… oh, and by the way, you don’t have to wear regular work attire –you can wear something… beachier; we’re gonna be there a while,” he told her. She nodded simply before walking out of his office.

“Dude,” Eric laughed when he walked in Michael’s office a moment later, “could you fight with this chick any louder? We heard you all the way across the floor.”

“Oh… sorry,” Michael sighed. “She just drives me insane.”

“Well yeah, she’s a rapist,” Eric sighed. Michael glared at him. “Joking, joking,” Eric assured him, “but seriously, you should fire her.”

“Why?” Michael asked with confusion.

“She’s just trouble. Besides, you were doing fine without her.”

“She needs a job, Eric,” Michael told him, “plus this way, I don’t have to do all that filing crap I hate.”

“I think,” Eric smiled as he leaned down on Michael’s desk, “that you like her.”

“Um, yes, yes I do like the hostile woman who snaps at me and threatens me with mace every ten minutes,” Michael said in a dull tone.

“Why else would you put up with her if you don’t like her? I mean, it’s one thing to pity the girl for getting smacked around – even I’d do that, but this is going way above and beyond, Bro,” Eric pointed out.

“I don’t know Eric, I can’t explain it. I just feel compelled to help her, alright?” Michael sighed.

“Fine, fine,” Eric said, raising his hands in defeat. “Just make sure that if you’re ever alone with her you have 911 on speed dial.”



Chapter 7

The following morning, Michael arrived later than he wished to work due to an issue with Daisy that prohibited him from leaving the house on time. He parked his car poorly (and illegally) in front of the BMG offices and ran inside to retrieve Sydney. He found her sitting on a chair outside her office wearing a white skirt that fell just below her knees and a pink short sleeved shirt instead of her usual business attire. “Sydney, come on!” he called as he hovered in the elevator doorway. She got up, picking up her oversized purse on the way, and walked slowly over to him, much slower than Michael would have appreciated. “Come on, come on.”

“Jeez, what’s with you?” she asked.

“I’m illegally parked and I’m really not in the mood to get a ticket,” he informed her. She nodded in understanding.

Once the elevator doors opened with a ding on the first floor, Michael bolted out and raced back to his car which was, thankfully, ticket-free. “Uh, there’s a dog in my seat,” Sydney froze and pointed towards the passenger side of Michael’s car where Daisy sat, her tongue dangling from her mouth as she looked out the window.

“Daisy, get in the back, go on,” Michael commanded her. Daisy hopped through the space between the two front seats and laid across the back seat of the car, which was covered in two large towels, obviously meant for her. “It’s safe now,” Michael assured her with a smile. She gave him a wary look before cautiously sliding into the seat Daisy had just vacated. Once she was seated and buckled in, Michael pulled out from the curb and began their drive. Only about fifteen minutes passed before Daisy stuck her head between the seats where Sydney and Michael were sitting, causing Sydney to shriek.

“She’s not gonna hurt you,” Michael laughed as he petted Daisy’s nose with one hand.

“She just… startled me,” Sydney said quietly. “Why’d you bring her, anyway?”

“’cause she loves the beach,” Michael explained. “We’re gonna play after we work, aren’t we girl?” he baby talked her, patting her head once more.

“Wonderful,” Sydney sighed.

“Why don’t you like her?” Michael asked Sydney seriously.

“What do you mean? I like her…,” she said, though she didn’t sound convinced. Michael gave her a look. “Okay, well I don’t hate her…I dunno, I just don’t like dogs all that much… they’re jumpy and they smell.”

“They’re jumpy and they smell?” he laughed. Sydney shrugged. “Okay, so what animals do you like?”

“Snakes,” she told him with a smile.

Michael burst out laughing. “That’s funny.”

“No, I’m serious; I used to have one.”

“Are you insane?!” Michael demanded. “You had some slimy slithering man-eating snake and you like it better than this cuddly little puppy?” he asked, tugging on Daisy’s ear as she panted in his face.

Sydney laughed. “First, snakes aren’t slimy and mine wasn’t a man-eater either. It was very small.”

“You’re weird,” he said while making a face at her.

“Thanks,” she laughed.

They drove the rest of the way to Santa Monica in relative silence, save a few comments on the traffic. When they arrived, Michael parked his car and immediately turned around to leash Daisy so she didn’t bolt from the car and run away like she’d done before Michael realized the ‘leash her immediately’ trick. Then the three of them got out of the car and began walking towards the pier where there was already a collection of cameras, lighting and sound equipment along with a large cluster of people.

“Do you think you could hold onto Daisy? Just for ten minutes. All you gotta do is hold her leash tightly. She won’t try to run though; she’ll just sniff stuff,” Michael told Sydney. Reluctantly she nodded and reached out for the leash, winding it once around her hand so that she had a firm grip on it.

“Be back soon. Be good,” he told Daisy before jogging off towards the video shoot further down the pier. Sighing, Sydney leaned up against a nearby railing and looked down to Daisy, who looked back up at her, her tongue still dangling out of her mouth.

“So you like the beach, huh?” Sydney asked Daisy in an attempt to cure the boring silence. “Do you get a nice tan on your fur?” Daisy merely looked at her before a bird flying past caught her attention. She began barking at it and tugging on her leash, trying to follow it, but Sydney held her firm. Eventually Daisy gave up on the bird and lay down on the planks of the pier.

Twenty minutes passed with Sydney squinting in the sun, trying to see what was going on at the video shoot. Then, finally, Michael came walking up to them and Daisy bolted to her feet, yanking Sydney’s arm along with her. “How are you two ladies doing?” he asked with a smile.

“Just peachy,” Sydney said dully. “You done?”

“For now. Come on, let’s get Daisy’s ball from the car and we’ll walk down on the beach,” he said. He took the leash from Sydney and walked back to his car. As soon as Daisy spotted the red ball he pulled out of the trunk she began bounding around trying to get it. Michael pocketed it for the time being saying, “Not yet,” to his dog. Then the three of them made their way down to the sand. Michael unhooked Daisy’s leash before tossing the red ball towards the surf. Daisy took off running towards it at full speed. “She loves that thing,” Michael laughed, looking back over his shoulder towards Sydney.

“Obviously,” Sydney said, nodding towards Daisy who was already returning with the ball clamped in her mouth.

Michael threw the ball five more times for Daisy before turning to Sydney and holding it out asking, “Wanna try?”

Sydney cautiously took it, but grimaced upon touching it. “It’s slobbery.”

“Well yeah, it was in her mouth,” Michael laughed. Gripping the ball between her thumb and index finger Sydney gave it a lack luster toss. It only managed to fly a few feet and Daisy retrieved it instantaneously. She then dropped it at Sydney’s feet and looked up to her. “Looks like she found a new play pal,” Michael laughed.

“Uh huh,” Sydney said, picking up the ball once more. That time she threw it further.

“So this is fun, right? Better than staying in the office all day at least…,” Michael said to her.

Sydney shrugged and gave a single nod. “I’m not sure what’s disappointing me more – that you get paid to do this, or that I’m getting paid to do this.”

“Disappointing?!” Michael laughed. “Why? Most people would kill for this job.”

“I know, I just…,” she let her voice drift off with a shrug.

“You just can’t take kindness when it’s handed to you,” Michael told her. Sydney gave him a sideways look, but said nothing. “Or you could quit… and go back to being a dancer…,” he suggested.

“No thanks,” Sydney mumbled as she threw Daisy’s ball once more.

Michael laughed. “You like this job and you know it – you just don’t want to admit it,” he told her. Sydney said nothing, but she did smile softly.



Chapter 8

Michael thought that after their trip to Santa Monica where Sydney told him about her pet snake, she would start to open up to him a bit more. True, talking about a pet was not the most ground breaking, revealing thing one could discuss, but it was a start and certainly much more than she had ever shared before. Unfortunately, Michael had been wrong and Sydney went right back to her closed off, slightly hostile self. The walls surrounding her would occasionally crack though and she would joke around with Michael, even laughing on occasion. When this would happen, she would stop suddenly as though she remembered that she should not have been doing that at all and needed to stop. Every time that happened, Michael felt sad for her, wondering what had caused her to become so closed off to the world.

The months wore on and Michael became very consumed with his work. Summer was in full swing, meaning many artists were releasing albums so that they could go on summer tours to promote them. He worked many long hours and spent many evenings going out and making BMG’s presence known throughout the city.

During the summer, he had to make two trips to New York City, both of them lasting a few days. For the first trip, he was very concerned because leaving meant Sydney had to take care of Daisy. Sydney and Daisy’s relationship was still very much a work in progress. Sydney seemed to be over her fear of Daisy, but she didn’t particularly like spending time with her. Michael returned home to find Daisy in one piece though, and Sydney even assured him that feeding her and letting her out was no problem, so Michael felt comfortable with leaving them the second time around.

During the second week in August, one of the major clients of BMG who Michael represented was promoting a movie that she starred in and performed two major songs fpr the soundtrack. The movie was a large blockbuster picture that had many famous stars and a very large budget behind it. As part of the celebration, after the premiere of the movie, a large party was being held at one of LA’s exclusive nightclubs. As the BMG representative, Michael needed to attend, though he didn’t really mind. After all, it wasn’t every day the music and movie industry crossed in such a way, so it was a chance for him to attend a party with a whole different crowd of people. Naturally, he invited Sydney along with him, not because he needed her there as a personal assistant, but just to be nice. Much to his surprise, Sydney seemed unusually hesitant about going.

Typically when Michael invited Sydney somewhere, she was excited to go, or, at the very least, willing, save the one time she had previously agreed to attend a friend’s birthday party. This time, however, she seemed almost upset about going and had no idea why he wanted her to go. He assured her that she didn’t have to go; he merely thought it would be fun, getting to attend a movie premiere and then going to the after party, which wasn’t something one could do every day. In the end, she agreed to tag along, though she still seemed hesitant about it.

Per Sydney’s request, Michael met her two blocks away from the theater on the night of the premiere. She was dressed nicely in a knee-length black dress with turquoise trim that matched the turquoise jewelry she was wearing. Michael complemented her attire, which only succeeded in making her act more strangely, before the two of them made their way to the theater.

Michael had to admit the movie wasn’t exactly his taste, but it wasn’t too bad. “What’d you think of the movie?” Michael asked Sydney as they made their way to his car so they could drive to the after party.

“Oh…it was alright I guess. If you like that sorta thing…,” she said.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he smiled at her. She gave him a half-smile back. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look kinda… distant or something.”

“No, I’m fine,” she told him quickly. “Movies just make me sleepy, that’s all.”

“Oh well, do you want me to take you home? You don’t have to go to the party if you don’t-”

“No, I’ll wake up; it’s fine,” she assured him with a half-smile. Shrugging at the fact that she obviously wasn’t interested in telling him what was bothering her (which really wasn’t all that surprising to him), Michael opened up the passenger door of his BMW to let her step inside.

Once at the party, Michael lost track of Sydney. He was busy making his way through the room, talking to the artist who starred in the movie as well as a few other of the BMG reps at the party. He also bumped into a few of the movie’s actors and had a star-struck moment talking to them as well as the director of the film.

A loud crash and the sound of glass breaking drew his attention, along with everyone else’s. He craned his neck to see what had happened and, much to his horror, saw Sydney stumbling away from a waiter picking up the broken glass. Cursing under his breath, he apologized to the person he had been talking to and rushed across the room, praying that Sydney was stumbling because the heel on her shoe broke and not for a different reason. The moment he reached her, though, he realized that was not the case. “Sydney,” he said in a stern yet annoyed voice.

“Michael,” she said, her voice slurred, “I was wonderin’ where ‘ou went. C’mere,” she waved to him with a sloppy hand.

“What are you doing!?” he hissed to her. “You’re wasted!”

“Noooo,” she shook her head. Then she went to take another step but almost fell. Michael caught her by the arms just as she began hysterically laughing, almost knocking over a chair with her feet.

“Come on,” Michael groaned as he hoisted her up. He carried her out of the club and handed the valet the ticket for his car.

“Where we goin’?” Sydney asked sluggishly.

“We’re leaving before you make another scene,” Michael told her harshly.

“Noo!” she whined so loudly that a few different people looked in their direction. “I want another drink!”

“Nope, no more drinks,” Michael told her.

“But!” she began to whine until suddenly she pitched forward and threw up into the bushes beside the club entrance.

“Great, just great,” Michael muttered, “better here than in my car though…”

A moment later, the valet appeared with Michael’s car and he shoved Sydney inside. Then he tipped the valet before walking around to the driver’s side of the car and getting inside. “Buckle up,” he told Sydney, still annoyed. Sydney struggled with her seatbelt until it smacked her in the face. She cursed and Michael reached over to buckle it for her. Then, he stomped on the gas pedal and the car lurched forward; he wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.

“What the hell’s the matter with you?” Michael demanded once they were on the highway. “Why’d you drink so much? I mean, god, we were at a movie premiere for Christ sakes. What’s the matter with you?”

“You said I could have a drink,” she said in a hurt tone.

“Yeah a drink, not drink the whole damn bar,” he snapped.

“Well excuse me, but drinking is how I cope,” she said.

It took Michael a moment to decipher what she said through the slurring, but when he did he asked, “Cope with what?” hoping that the alcohol lowered her inhibitions enough for her to reveal something about herself.

“You know,” she said with a casual hand wave.

“No, actually, I don’t. You’re so secretive all the time who could possibly know?” he asked.

“Fine, you wanna know, fine!” she slurred. “For ‘arters my real name – ‘s Sydney Bristow,” she said, though the way she was slurring her last name sounded more like Bris-oh.

“Bristow…,” Michael repeated slowly, scanning his mind. “Bristow as in Jonathan Bristow? As in the director of that movie we just saw? As in one of the most famous directors in Hollywood?”

“Tha’s the one,” Sydney told him with a very sloppy finger point.

“He’s…your father?” Michael asked. Sydney nodded and he sighed. Suddenly it was making sense – not much sense, but a little sense. If Sydney changed her name, it obviously meant she either had a falling out with her father, or she wanted to distance herself for him. Since they had just attended the premiere of Jonathan Bristow’s movie, he obviously attended it too, which explained Sydney’s hesitancy to go to begin with and why she compensated for being in the same room as her father by consuming lots and lots of alcohol.

“I’m not feeling so good…,” Sydney moaned.

“Okay, okay we’re almost there,” Michael assured her in a calm voice. Five minutes later, they pulled up at his house and he helped her inside, shoving Daisy out of the way in the process. Noticing that Sydney was struggling to walk, Michael slipped one arm under her thigh and carried her up the stairs and into his spare bedroom. “Here you go,” he said, setting her down, “you can stay here tonight. The bathroom’s right there if you need it.”

“’s this your room?” she asked slowly.

“No, this is my guest room. Goodnight Sydney,” he said before slipping out of the room.



Chapter 9

The next morning when Michael woke up, he walked past the guest room and found Sydney sprawled out on the bed, asleep with Daisy beside her. Michael called Daisy away quietly and the two of them went down into the kitchen. Downstairs, all he could think about was Sydney. It had taken large amounts of alcohol (to the point where she could barely walk) before she’d opened up to him and even then, it was by force. He feared she would never open up to him or anyone for that matter. For some reason, he just felt compelled to get her to tell him about her past, not for him, but for herself. She was a good person, he could tell that, and it made him sad that she’d condemned herself to be so secretive.

He wondered if maybe her father, the famous director, had something to do with it. As far as he remembered, Jonathan Bristow had been a famous director for at least twenty years, which was essentially all of Sydney’s life since she was around twenty-five years old. Perhaps too much spotlight during her early youth caused her to strive for the opposite, but even that didn’t make sense. If she didn’t want spotlight, dancing in music videos wasn’t exactly the way to achieve that. He was utterly bewildered and he feared that he’d never see the light.

Only about fifteen minutes passed before the smell of fresh coffee roused Sydney, and she slowly and painfully made her way into the kitchen. “Morning,” Michael whispered, passing her a cup.

She moaned in response. “We didn’t have sex last night, did we?” she asked painfully.

Michael nearly choked on his coffee. “Uh, no, you were definitely too drunk for that, but you did spend the night with Daisy,” he said, gesturing towards the panting dog at her feet. Sydney grimaced and moaned again. “So, uh, Miss Bristow, you wanna explain last night or would you like some time for your aspirin to kick in first.”

Sydney’s eyes snapped up to him in horror. “How’d you find out my last name?”

“You told me,” he laughed at her.

“Aw damnit,” she groaned as she lowered her head to her hand.

“So what’s the deal? Did you have a fight with him and move out? Or do you just not want to be known as Jonathan Bristow’s daughter?” he asked. Sydney merely stared down into her coffee cup, saying nothing. “It seems to me he’s a nice enough guy, so-”

Sydney cut him off with a laugh. “You would think that, wouldn’t you? That’s what everybody thinks,” she said bitterly as she shook her head. Michael gave her a curious look. “My father, the great and wonderful Jonathan Bristow, winner of two Oscars, three golden globes and a plethora of other honors… but it’s all a lie.”

“A lie?” Michael questioned.

Sydney nodded. “Do you know what’s happening in every single memory I have of my father? In every single one, he’s either beating me or my mother.”

“Beating you?” Michael gasped in shock.

Sydney gave him a serious look. “Yes, beating me. It started when I was ten; I was helping my mother clean up dinner and I dropped a glass by accident. It shattered and my father hit me in the face and gave me a black eye. He’d been doing it to my mother for years; I just never noticed or realized it. Always behind closed doors, you see, he hid it from everyone, most importantly the press.”

“I don’t understand… why wouldn’t you go to the police? Why…,” he let his voice drift off. He was too shocked to form words.

“Tell the police and ruin his precious reputation?” Sydney laughed bitterly.

“So you… ran away?” Michael guessed.

Sydney nodded. “The morning of my eighteenth birthday and I never looked back. I haven’t seen or spoken to my father since and it’s been…about five years since I’ve spoken to my mother. I don’t talk to her because I can’t stand that she stays with him,” she said, shaking her head with anger. “So, last night when I saw him there, I just… I freaked.”

“Obviously,” Michael sighed. Sydney shot him a look. “What?! You were really wasted.”

“Yeah, I know,” she sighed.

“Sydney, I’m sorry that all that stuff happened to you; no one deserves that,” Michael told her sincerely.

At this, Sydney took a few steps back from him. “This doesn’t change anything, you know?” she told him harshly. “It’s not like we’re gonna be friends now or anything. I just told you to get you off my back.”

“But-”

“No,” Sydney cut him off. “Nothing changes. You’re still my boss, not my friend, my boss. Now… may I please use your phone to call a cab?”

“I’ll drive you if you-”

“No,” she cut him off once more. “Just your phone, that’s all I need.” Sighing, Michael pointed to it across the kitchen.

Sydney made her phone call and then gathered up her things before saying to Michael, “Thank you… for letting me stay.”

“Sure,” he said quietly. Just as she was about to walk away he added, “You know, you really shouldn’t let your father get away with-”

“Listen Michael, this is my life,” she snapped at him. “I don’t want someone swooping in and thinking they can try to save me. You can’t tell anyone what I told you – not anyone. This is my family’s dirty little secret and that’s the way it’s gonna stay, got it?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, “I got it.”

“Good,” she said sharply. Then, she left.



Chapter 10

“Rough night?” Eric asked Michael with an amused tone.

Michael gave him a blank look. “Yeah, you could say that,” he sighed. After Sydney had left his house, he got ready for work and went in, not expecting to see her that day. Sitting at his desk, he was too distracted to concentrate. He wasn’t hung over or concerned about himself, but he was concerned about Sydney. Obviously her father was no longer a danger to her since they almost never saw each other, but knowing that she essentially ran away from home, gave him the knowledge that her living situation probably wasn’t the greatest, so he was concerned for her wellbeing in other respects.

“Word on the street is that you went home with your PA,” Eric said with a suggestive grin.

“Because she was too drunk to stand,” Michael informed him.

“Oh,” Eric’s face fell. “So you guys didn’t…”

“Of course not,” Michael sighed at him.

“You should really fire her for getting so drunk on the job,” Eric said. “Although I remember this one time in high school,” he laughed, “I was so drunk at work but I didn’t get fired!”

“Lovely,” Michael sighed. “But I’m not firing her.”

“Why not?!”

“Well, for starters she wasn’t technically working last night and also because there were extenuating circumstances.”

“Extenuating circumstances?! Is that even a word,” Eric asked. Michael rolled his eyes. “Whatever, dude, but that chick’s got some issues.”

Michael shook his head as Eric left his office. As crazy as his friend was, he had a point; Sydney did have some serious issues, although Eric had no way of knowing that. Michael was just about to turn back to the work on his desk when he saw Sydney pop her head in the door. “Hey, I’m here,” she said. “You need anything done?”

“Oh… hi… are you sure you’re feeling alright? I mean, I didn’t expect you to come in…”

“I’m fine. Plus, I need the money,” she told him with a laugh.

“I see,” Michael nodded. After delegating something for Sydney to do, Michael got back to work. After an hour had passed, he was beginning to be too hungry to concentrate, so he went to find Sydney to ask if she wanted to accompany him to lunch.

“Yeah, I guess,” was her casual, almost uninterested response.

“Well gee, don’t let me twist your arm into it,” Michael laughed.

“What? Oh…no it’s fine; I’m just tired still, I guess,” she said softly. He nodded and then led the way out of the office. They rode down the elevator in silence; it wasn’t until they were outside the building that Michael spoke again.

“So…”

“Don’t,” Sydney cut him off quickly. Michael gave her a shocked look. “Don’t even think about it. You were giving me that look – that look that said you were just about to ask me a question, prying into my life that I told you was none of your business, so just don’t.”

“I… I was just going to ask where you wanted to go to lunch,” Michael said timidly. True, he had been thinking about asking Sydney something personal (something he was obviously rethinking at that moment), but his original question had been about lunch.

“Oh…sorry,” Sydney mumbled to him.

“Okay, so no personal questions, but I just have one teeny tiny question that’s really been bugging me,” he told her with a hopeful smile. She gave him an irritated look. “Just one! How the hell did you get a pet snake?!”

Sydney laughed. “My neighbor had one. He took me over to his house to show me his snake and- what?” Sydney asked when Michael snorted with laughter.

“That sounded so dirty!” he laughed.

Sydney rolled her eyes at him. “Anyway, I really liked the snake so I asked my mom for one and she said no and then I asked my dad for one – this was when I was, like, seven, by the way – and he got me one. It scared the hell outta my mom, which was probably why I liked it,” Sydney laughed. “I named it Jamie and I kept it in my room, so neither of my parents ever went in there.”

“So you just… had the snake?” Michael asked with an intense grimace.

“Yeah,” she laughed at the look on his face. “It got to be about three feet long before I lost it.”

“Lost it? Like, in the house?” he asked,

“No, no, outside in the back yard,” Sydney told him. “Jamie just slithered away and I couldn’t find him.”

“I see,” Michael gulped.

“Gee, Michael, could you be a little more horrified?” Sydney said, trying to hide her giggle.

“No. No, I could not. I don’t like snakes. I’ll stick with Daisy, thank you very much. At least I know she’s not going to kill me with her fangs or tighten around my neck and choke me to death,” he said with a shiver.

“Ah, the snake wouldn’t have done that – it’s not like Jamie was a boa constrictor,” Sydney said with a casual hand wave.

“I’m sure…”

“So what about you? Any childhood pets of the creepy variety?” she asked with an amused smile.

“Oh no, I don’t think so,” Michael said, shaking his head. Sydney gave him a curious look. “You can’t expect me to share stuff, but not share stuff yourself!”

“I just shared the snake thing!” she defended.

“Fine,” he groaned. “I didn’t have any pets. I lived in New York City, remember? Not really conducive to pets. Well, okay, I had goldfish, but they don’t really count.”

“I see,” Sydney nodded. “So that’s why you have Daisy?”

Michael nodded as he repeated, “That’s why I have Daisy.”

“That’s cute,” she smiled at him.

“What?” he laughed.

“Nothing,” she said casually. He looked over at her curiously, but she just looked away, a soft smile creeping across her face.

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Chapters 11 - 20