How to Play the Game

Author: Janet (SkyGirl5)

Genre: S/V

Summary: Sydney Bristow is being held captive by the covenant when she suddnely finds herself with a very interesting cellmate.

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

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Chapters 1-10 // Chapters 11 - 16 + Epilogue

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Chapter 1

Her toes scraped painfully against the concrete floor as she was dragged down the hallway. Blindfolded and handcuffed, she was in no position to fight back; she was trapped inside her mind, cursing her mistake. It was her fault.

The sound of an electronic beep signaled the end of her journey down the long narrow corridor. After the beep, a door swung open, its hinges squeaking loudly as they grinded against the metal doorframe. A mere moment after that she was sailing through the air before landing with a painful crunch on her right shoulder. She moaned and rolled over just as the metal door slammed shut and faint sounds of footsteps walking away could be heard.

Rolling onto her back, she took a few deep breaths, trying to ready herself for the painful task of moving her hands, which were handcuffed behind her back, around to the front of her. Before she could do this, though, she heard a soft voice through the darkness, “Are you alright?”

Breathing in sharply at the sound of the male voice, she used her feet to push herself as far away from the voice as possible. With only two pushes of her feet flat on the cement floor she rammed her head into a brick wall. Moaning again, this time at her own stupidity, she used the wall as leverage to bring her feet up and slip her hands underneath her back and around them so that they were in front of her. At that point she removed her blindfold, though it did nothing to help her; the room she was located in was so pitch black she couldn’t even see her hands two inches in front of her face.

“Are you alright?” the male voice repeated.

“Fine,” she hissed, crawling back into a corner of the room. Her spy instincts kicked in as the wheels of her brain began to turn. The likelihood of this man being another legitimate prisoner was slim. In such a vast facility there was surely more than one holding cell. Plus combining prisoners increased the likelihood for escape so unless they were chained to the wall, which she obviously was not, it was rarely done. This fact lead her to believe that the man sharing the cell with her was a decoy prisoner, one that would be used to gain her trust and gather information from her, or possibly worse, but she tried not to dwell on that thought.

“What’s your name?” the man asked after a moment’s silence.

“I didn’t tell them so why would I tell you?” she asked rhetorically in a hostile tone.

“Jesus you don’t have to be mean about it,” the man muttered. “I was just trying to make conversation seeing as we’re both trapped in here.”

“Well converse with yourself,” she said. Then, she turned and faced the corner of the room while trying to remove the handcuffs from her hands. After almost twenty minutes of stubborn trying, her hands and wrists hurt too badly to continue, so she gave up and leaned her forehead against the wall in front of her.

Frustration was not something Sydney Bristow dealt with well. It simply wasn’t in her genes. She couldn’t stand frustration nor could she stand betrayal, which is why that situation was even more aggravating for her; it contained both. Frustration that she was trapped in that cell; frustration that she hadn’t seen it coming; betrayal from someone she should have seen it coming by; betrayal from someone she used to love.

A routine mission was how it started, but, then again, was any mission ever ‘routine’? Living the life of a double agent undercover surely removed all meaning from ‘routine’. The ‘routine’ part of the mission went fine; it was the extraction where things started to go awry. Her partner on that mission had been Julian Sark, a man who she loathed with every fiber of her being. She was aware that Sark knew the evil truth behind SD-6 and that he was partnered with her employer, Arvin Sloane. Knowing his true allegiance meant betrayal from his was expected. Yet, since she was not supposed to know the truth about SD-6 she had to continue to play her part as a loyal cog in the SD-6 machine of destruction.

Her mission and counter mission went off flawlessly as did all her missions (well, almost all). Her perfection and dedication to the job was something she prided herself on. The moment she climbed back into the van Sark was to be driving she came face to face with a pistol, cocked and ready. It seemed Sark was choosing that opportunity to double cross the supreme double crosser (Sloane) by way of kidnapping his most prized agent. To make matters worse, Sark’s accomplice in his kidnapping plan (though, Sydney doubted his juvenile mind had actually come up with the entire plan all by itself – or, at all), was someone who had betrayed Sydney in the past and appeared to be continuing on that unfortunate pattern.

Sydney wasn’t quite sure how long she was sitting against the wall, hugging her knees as she rocked back and forth gently, obsessing over what she could have done differently. She was pulled from her thoughts by the loud screech of the metal door clanking open once more. When she moved her head towards the sound, she squinted at the light flooding in. Though the light wasn’t bright at all, her eyes had been used to utter darkness, so any light whatsoever made them burn. Once her eyes had adjusted she saw a plate of food being slid in across the floor before the door slowly shut.

Sydney didn’t move from her position, but she heard the man in the room sliding across the cement floor as he approached the food. “You should eat,” he told her.

“No thanks,” she said, her voice just barely above a whisper. “Not hungry.”

Then, she turned back to face the wall and rested her chin upon her knees. She was alone in her fight; she had no one to depend on but herself if she wanted to survive.



Chapter 2

Days passed with nothing to do but sleep and wait for the inevitable torture. Sydney wished that they would just get it over with already for the anticipation of torture was often worse than the actual event. One thing she was thankful for, though, was that her cellmate seemed to be keeping to himself. On the second day he had tried to strike up conversation with her once more but, after another hostile response from her, he took the hint and stopped talking. That was until one day right after their food was brought to them and Sydney was munching on a piece of stale bread.

“I was wondering,” the man began. He was silent for a shockingly long amount of time before he continued speaking once more. “Do you know which way the eagle flies?”

Such a random and obscure statement should have been ignored by Sydney but, instead, it caused her to gasp slightly and nearly choke on the painfully dry bread in her mouth. Somewhere deep in the depths of her memory this comment struck a cord. She had heard it somewhere before, but…where? She thought and searched her memory for a solid few minutes before it hit her.

Her father, also an agent of CIA and SD-6, had told her about it once. He was never an open man and rarely did they have more than a two sentence conversation before she found out the truth. Once she did, though, their talks became more frequent and almost casual at points. During one of those more casual times, he told her about the CIA back in the day, back in the glory days as he called it, when he was first starting out as an agent. Back then, cell phones, microchips and other high tech devices weren’t available to agents. They had to rely on other methods to, not only communicate, but remove themselves from potentially threatening situations.

One of the things he had spoken about was being held captive. He didn’t detail captivity, of course, but one thing he informed her of was an old method the CIA used to determine if a person of unknown allegiance was friend or foe. The eagle was one of the symbols of the United States, which was why that majestic bird was used in the scenario. The answer seemed obvious, or potentially obvious, but in the answer lie the security and proof that, should the person answer correctly, they were someone to be allied with.

“I guess not,” the man said after over five minutes of silence during which Sydney had been weighing her options, debating on whether or not she should respond. Finally, after another minute of silence she did, overwhelming curiosity prohibiting her from staying silent.

“The eagle flies west to east, the same as the setting sun,” she told him. This, of course was an incorrect statement. While an eagle could fly any way it wished, the sun always set from the east to the west. The incorrectness of the statement was its security.

The man gave a satisfied sigh before asking, “Now will you tell me your name?”

“Sydney.”

“Michael,” he said in return. “So… how’d you get suck in here?”

“You mean how’d they catch me?” she asked, hinting amusement in her voice. “My partner double crossed me; blindsided me actually.”

“Sorry to hear that,” he sighed.

“Eh, I’ll just cut his balls off later on,” she said so casually that he couldn’t help but laugh. “What about you?”

“Snuck in trying to rescue a fellow agent. He got out; I didn’t.”

“Mmm,” Sydney sighed. She began picking absentmindedly at the handcuffs around her wrists as the two of them sat in silence for a few minutes before the curiosity over took her. “Where… where’d you hear that?”

“What?”

“The eagle thing.”

“Oh,” he said with a soft laugh. “My father was an agent back…”

“…in the glory days,” they said in unison before both of them gave an exhale almost sounding like a laugh. “I wonder what the glory days were like?” Sydney asked.

“Dunno…something tells me I would not have survived without my cell phone, satellite TV or all those other high tech gadgets we have now-a-days,” he said. She ‘mm’-ed in agreement before they fell back into silence.

Sitting in silence, Michael Vaughn stared off into the direction where Sydney was sitting. Well, he wasn’t quite sure where she was sitting, being that it was pitch black in their small cell, but he was staring in the direction from which her voice came, wondering. Had she had a father also in the spy biz? A mentor? It was obvious she had heard that phrase from an elder agent. For starters, that phrase hadn’t been used in years and, according to the information he was aware of, it was only known by a select few agents. Plus the fact that she had used the phrase ‘in the glory days’ referring to the time far before theirs. At least, he assumed before theirs; he didn’t actually know how old she was being that he couldn’t see her, but she didn’t sound any older than he was. Then again, how could you judge a person’s age by the sound of their voice? Obviously a young child’s voice differed from one of an elderly person but in between everyone sounded relatively the same, didn’t they?

Shaking his head from his cyclical seeming thoughts, Michael leaned back against the cement wall. When this mysterious woman he now knew as Sydney, was tossed into his cell a few days prior, he was stunned. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed with him sitting there alone in the dark, occasionally being punched or kicked by henchmen, but judging by his feeding schedule it had been at least a week. His spy instincts told him she was not to be trusted, but, when she made no effort to befriend him and thus trick him into revealing his identity, he grew even more curious, especially since not only was she unfriendly, she was borderline hostile. That had changed his opinion of her from thinking she was an enemy to possibly thinking she could be trusted. Yet, that fact still remained a question mark in his mind for, even though she had passed his CIA-affiliation test, her loyalties were unknown. He couldn’t trust her quite yet, which was why he had only revealed his first name to her, and suspected that was the reason she had only revealed her first name to him. Still, no matter what her loyalty, something about her voice intrigued him and he hoped that in their coming days together, they could get to know each other a bit more.



Chapter 3

Sydney didn’t have to wait any longer to face the unfortunate music of her torture because the day following the discovery of her cellmate’s name, she was dragged from her cell by the handcuffs on her hands. Once outside her cell she was blindfolded once more before the beefy man who had a hold of her continued to drag her down the hall. One he stopped, the electronic beep of a key panel giving him access to a locked room could be heard once the proper code was entered. Instead of going inside himself, he tossed Sydney inside the room where she landed with a thud on the cement floor.

Groaning, she tried to clamber to her feet, but she was stopped by a foot stomping down on her hand causing her to yelp in pain. “Sydney…,” Sark’s cool voice came through her scream. “You know, it’s interesting; Mr. Sloane actually seemed distressed when I told him of your capture.”

“Tragic,” Sydney snapped before bringing her legs up and kicking in the direction of Sark’s voice. She hit him, though she wasn’t sure what part of him she hit, so as quickly as possible she scrambled to her feet, taking her blindfold off on the way. She saw him half hunched over, holding his kneecap with his hand and grimacing in pain. “You know,” she said, forming her body into her fighting stance, “I’m really going to enjoy this.” Then, taking an opportunity when she saw it, Sydney punched Sark in the face. His nose made a sickening popping sound when her fist collided with it and it immediately began spewing blood.

Sydney was about to strike again but, before she could, Sark’s elbow collided with her jaw sending her sprawling towards the floor. Once she was down he kicked her twice in her stomach before muttering, “Stupid bitch,” and walking out of the room. Sydney lay on the floor for a moment, trying to regain enough of her breath so that she could stand, but, before she could, someone picked her up off the floor, cramming a blindfold over her head as they did so.

She was tossed roughly back into her cell a minute later where she landed with a painful smack as her face hit the concrete. “Are you okay?” Vaughn asked her.

“Fine,” she coughed, though she didn’t move at all. She could hear him moving across the floor though and the moment his hand touched her leg she recoiled against the wall. “Don’t,” she said quickly.

“I’m just trying to help you,” he said in a quiet, calm voice as he continued to slide his way towards her. Groping his way across the floor in the darkness, it took him a moment until he came to her shoe. His hand touched it lightly and that time she didn’t pull away. “Do you think anything’s broken?”

“No,” she said, her voice coming out as a hiss while she applied pressure to the throbbing wounds on her stomach. “I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, you sound it,” he said, obviously being sarcastic. Gently, he moved his hand from her shoe across the floor and towards her body, being careful not to touch anything in the dark that would result in him being punched (because he suspected she would do so). He managed to find her arm and rested his hand gently against it.

Sydney didn’t move for a moment, enjoying his gentle touch, until she realized she was doing exactly what he wanted her to be doing; getting close to him just so he could turn around and stab her in the back. Upon this realization, she rolled away from him saying, “Please don’t.”

“Okay, I’m sorry,” he said softly. Then, instead of returning to his side of the room, he turned around and leaned his back up against the same wall hers was against but he made sure he was at least a foot away from her.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“It’s drafty over there,” he said. After that comment, they fell back into silence for quite some time. During their silence, Vaughn was having an argument with himself in his mind. Was she part of a ploy to break him? Beat up the female agent and gain pity from him right up until the point where she would turn against him. That would have made sense if she was leaning into his touches, encouraging him to help her, but she was doing the opposite of that. In addition to that, there was the nagging feeling in his gut telling him to trust her; telling him that they were the key to each other’s way out. Knowing that his gut had never been wrong in the past, he decided to take a tiny leap of faith.

“So…I was wondering…,” he began cautiously. “You don’t have to answer me or anything but I was wondering what branch office you worked in?”

“Why?” she asked in her hostile and defensive tone.

“I was just wondering,” he said, trying to sound as innocent and nondescript as possible. “I mean, I don’t know of any agents named Sydney working in my office so…”

“It doesn’t matter… you probably wouldn’t have heard of me anyway… I live in LA…,” she let her voice drift off, cursing her stupidity for revealing such vital information. Then again, LA was a large place and the chance of him finding her was rather slim. Plus, if he was working for Sark he’d already know exactly where she was from.

Vaughn thought for a moment. If she lived in LA that meant she worked at the same office he did. He knew every single one of the field agents there and not one of them was named Sydney nor did they sound like her. Then, suddenly, it hit him. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he just did. “You’re… the double…,” he exhaled very quietly.

Sydney’s head snapped towards him, horrified. She was about to panic about Sark knowing her double status but then she didn’t. There was something about his voice, something about the genuine shock in it that made her believe him. “H-how did you know that?” she asked slowly.

“I guessed,” he said. He could hear her sighing uncertainly so he continued quickly, “I swear I did. I live in LA too and I knew you didn’t work with me so… wow,” he sighed, sounding very impressed.

“What?” she returned, her tone regaining some of its defensiveness.

“Nothing…I just…I’ve heard about you, it’s just hard to imagine meeting you – like this I mean,” he said.

“Shocked I got caught?” she asked, sounding bitter that time.

“No,” he said seriously. “Well, anyway, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Michael Vaughn,” he said, offering up his last name as a gesture of faith. He extended his hand to her until he realized that in the dark she’d never be able to see it and thus shake it.

“It’s nice to meet you, Agent Vaughn,” Sydney said, a small smile crossing her face. It was a smile of relief. She finally realized why this man had known about the eagle phrase. Her father’s stories from ‘back in the day’ had included a fellow agent by the name of William Vaughn. This, obviously, was Vaughn’s father and slowly her fear and hesitancy regarding him was dissipating and the concept of trust was beginning to enter the picture. “I’ve heard only good things about your father.”

“My father?!” he asked, surprised.

“Mm,” she said, nodding her head though he couldn’t see it. “My father told me about him a few times.”

“Well, in that case, I’ve heard only terrifying things about your father, Agent Bristow,” he told her with great honesty, emphasizing her last name, feeling it was safe to use. He had been searching his brain trying to recall the last name of the father and daughter double agents and had only remembered it just then.

“I thought the identity of the double agents was supposed to remain a secret within the agency,” she said in an almost dangerous tone.

“It is. But you’re handler just happens to be a good friend of mine,” Vaughn said with a soft laugh. He really could have used Eric just then as a matter of fact.

“You know him?” she asked, laughing softly as well.

“Oh yeah, we go way back. We were partners for a while before he got promoted on me…”

“Wasn’t that a good thing though? I mean, he can’t run, can he?” Sydney asked while trying to picture her slightly rounded handler trying to escape a barrage of bullets, falling and ‘playing’ dead.

“No, he definitely cannot. It’s more like a lumber-roll,” he told her.

Sydney couldn’t help but crack a smile at this, for his description was very accurate of her mental image. After a moment, she reached over and found his hand resting upon his knee. Giving it a gentle squeeze, she said, “Thanks.”



Chapter 4

Neither Sydney nor Vaughn spoke for the rest of that day, but after munching on their evening meal in silence, they fell asleep with their shoulders resting together and their backs propped up against the wall. For the first time since being captured, Sydney woke up with a smile on her face the following morning. Unfortunately, her smile didn’t last long for they found out very early on that that day was Vaughn’s day to be interrogated.

They were still half asleep when two men burst into their cell and, while they were trying to recover from being blinded by the light, dragged Vaughn off by his arms. Sydney waited impatiently for his return. When he was, she found that he was in worse shape than she had been after her encounter with Sark the previous day, much worse shape.

He was tossed roughly back into their cell and moaned loudly when his body collided with the cement floor. Sydney could tell his breathing was very labored so she approached him cautiously. “Vaughn,” she said softly, reaching out to touch him. When her finger tips lightly brushed his shoulder he hissed in pain.

“Dislocated,” he managed with a slight whimper.

“Okay, I can fix it,” she said. Groping in the dark she managed to find the outline of his body, though she nearly poked him in the eye twice in the process. Finally, she positioned herself behind him as he lay flat on his stomach on the floor. Luckily for him, his hands weren’t shackled together since, if they were, putting his shoulder back into its socket would have been nearly impossible, especially in the dark. “Okay, get ready,” she said quietly, grasping his arm firmly in her hand.

Vaughn gritted his teeth, bracing himself as much as he could but the moment she yanked his arm up he yelped in pain. The pain lessened though once his shoulder was snapped back into position. Sydney’s hand rested gently on the back of his head as she asked, “How’s that?”

“Thank… you...,” he managed, still out of breath. She tried to get him to roll over and sit up, knowing that leaning up against the firm wall would help his shoulder, but it was difficult for him to move at first. Finally he did and Sydney made sure he was securely against the wall before running her hands across his face, checking for other injuries. Her fingers brushed up against his long eyelashes and ran down the bridge of his nose before coming in contact with something wet and sticky on his left cheek. He hissed in pain despite the tingles he was receiving from her gentle touch.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “Are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” he managed through gritted teeth. He had had a dislocated shoulder before, so he knew what to expect. Granted, before, he had been on pain medication so, really, he hardly noticed.

“What did they want from you?”

“To know… who I was,” he told her, still breathing through his agony. “They didn’t know who the man I was rescuing was either; they don’t know why we’re here.”

“Why are you here?” she asked.

“Searching for something… a chemical weapon…”

“The Shield,” Sydney said, more of as a fact than a guess. Vaughn said nothing, but since her hand was still resting near his face she could feel him nod. With a heavy sigh she said, “’s too late; they already have it.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I had it when I was captured – at least, I had the specs for it,” she sighed.

“Oh…you think they can hear us talking?” Vaughn asked, lowering his voice to an almost whisper.

“Probably…we should stop talking…”

“…about work stuff,” he pointed out.

“Right…”

“So… what’s your favorite movie?” he asked.

“I don’t know…. I don’t watch movies…”

“YOU DON’T WATCH MOVIES?!” he gasped in shock. “How can you NOT watch movies?!”

She shrugged. “I dunno… I mean, I just don’t go out of my way to see them and I usually don’t have anyone to go with so…,” she shrugged again.

“When we get back to LA I’m taking you to a movie,” he told her firmly.

“Thanks,” she laughed slightly.

“Okay, now you ask me a question.”

“Why?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I interfering with your pressing social obligations?” Vaughn asked using a tone.

“Fine,” Sydney sighed. “Um….what’s your favorite book?”

“I don’t read,” he responded so seriously that Sydney couldn’t tell if he was teasing her because of her ‘I don’t watch movies’ comment. “Seriously, unless its work assigned or something I find so unbearably fascinating I can’t stand not reading it – I don’t read,” he continued.

“Good to know. I was a literature major; I have my master’s degree,” she explained.

“Ew, why?”

From the tone of his voice Sydney could almost see the grimacing expression on his face. “Because I like books.”

“Good answer. I majored in international business with a minor in international affairs and political science,” he said.

“WOW, you really were headed down only one career path weren’t you?”

“Yeah,” he sighed with a slight laugh. “Wanted to do this ever since I can remember. Though, at this exact moment I’m having difficulty remembering why…”

Sydney sighed and nodded her head softly in agreement. “Okay, I’ve got one. What is with guys and lesbians?” she asked.

“WHAT?!” Vaughn half-gasped, half laughed.

“I’m serious! How come every guy everywhere finds girl-on-girl action like the hottest thing ever. Explain this to me,” she told him very seriously.

“Okay, first – watch you’re generalizations. I do not find girl-on-girl action the hottest thing ever,” he said, mocking her tone.

“Are you denying you don’t find it the least bit… intriguing?” she challenged. He didn’t answer and she laughed at his obviously positive response. “So explain.”

“I dunno…,” he groaned. “Isn’t it the same with girls watching guy-on-guy action?” Vaughn asked while nearly choking at the mere thought.

“Please, don’t make me throw up my stale bread,” she said with a soft gagging sound.

“So that’s a ‘no’?”

“That’s a hell no.”

“Good… I dunno,” he groaned once more. “Can’t explain it.”

“Pathetic,” she muttered.

“Says the girl with doesn’t like movies…,” he muttered back at her. She jabbed him in the neck and he prodded her in the side but only for a moment before she slapped his hand away.

“Careful Vaughn,” she said, her tone very dangerous. Vaughn tucked his hands in his lap tightly, making a mental note not to playfully poke her in anymore potentially dangerous areas again.



Chapter 5

For the next few days Sydney and Vaughn chatted practically nonstop about anything and everything not related to their work at the CIA. Their conversations ranged from their favorite foods to childhood memories to funny endeavors during their adult lives. In addition to story swapping, they found out basic facts about themselves such as age (twenty-seven for her; thirty for him) and general physical descriptions since they were still unable to see each other.

On top of their daily conversations, their sleeping habits had changed as well. Instead of sleeping in their separate corners of the room, they slept with their bodies close together, warming each other up in their slightly chilly cell. Sydney even started waking up with her head nestled in between Vaughn’s shoulder and his head resting atop hers. By the time a week had passed, Sydney was beginning to feel like she knew Vaughn better than she had ever known anyone and that scared her.

For starters, she was revealing personal details to someone she had barely known two weeks and it wasn’t even like they knew each other in any sort of normal sense of the word. They were trapped together twenty-four hours a day in a pitch black room. Then again, maybe that was the exact reason she felt as though she knew him because they had nothing to do but get to know each other… or sleep. Still, it wasn’t like she really knew him. She had never even seen his face, thus enabling her to look into his eyes.

To her, looking into a man’s eyes was essential in the beginning stages of a relationship. A person’s eyes were a portal into a person’s soul and their deepest, innermost feelings. She fully believed that if the eyes were looked into in a certain way nothing could be hidden and all would be revealed – all intentions good or bad; all feelings; all wishes; all desires. With Vaughn she was unable to do that and thus reserved judgment.

On the complete other hand, even if she had been able to look into Vaughn’s eyes, regarding him as a close friend or – god forbid – something more, still would have made her hesitant especially knowing he was an agent. If there was one true lesson her disastrous relationship with her SD-6 partner years prior had taught her was that dating other agents, especially partners did not work. This was why she tried to maintain a professional distance from all her colleges at SD-6 even before she found out the truth. It was simply better for her that way.

Still, with all her logic and brain power telling her to stop, she couldn’t deny the fact that Michael Vaughn had her laughing. Not just chuckling, either, full on hysterical laughing with tears running down her cheeks. This would have been a significant accomplishment in any normal social situation, but sitting in a chilly, damp cell in the pitch black while handcuffed? That had to be some sort of miracle. She was actually having a good time. This boggled her mind. How could she have been having a good time while being held captive? Sure, the brief break in the torture helped but, either way, she was just enjoying being around him and that’s what really scared her.

As Sydney was mulling over these thoughts in her mind one afternoon, she was torn from them by their cell door crashing open and four large men stepping inside. The entire week Sydney and Michael had been conversing not one of them had been dragged away to be beaten or interrogated, but it seemed all that was about to change. Two of the men shoved a bag over Sydney’s head, blindfolding her and dragging her off while the other two men did the same to Vaughn. There was so much scuffling and turning around and upside down that Sydney wasn’t quite sure where she was going or what end was up. Finally, she was set down rather harshly in a chair and strapped to it while her blindfold remained atop her head.

She tried to listen as hard as she could to decipher the sounds she was hearing. It sounded almost as though someone was being handcuffed to something, maybe, she wasn’t sure. There were lots of high pitched sounds coming from electronic machines though, that much she knew. As she was listening to the sounds a suave voice filtered through the room; she recognized it from somewhere, yet couldn’t place it.

“Miss Bristow I hear you’ve been making friends with your cellmate. Perhaps that will come to our advantage today… hmm? Tell me, Miss Bristow, where is The Shield located?” the male voice asked.

“You already have it,” Sydney snapped.

“No, no you see I have the plans for it. There was a prototype constructed and I want to know where it is. Where is it?”

“Go to hell,” Sydney responded. She, of course, had absolutely no idea where the prototype was located, but she certainly wasn’t going to let that on, especially if it was her leverage.

“Pity…,” the man sighed. Before he had even let out his whole sigh, though, the room was filed with an electric noise followed closely by a bloodcurdling sickening scream from Vaughn.

“What are you doing to him!?” Sydney demanded, but from the sounds she was hearing and the smell of metal she knew it could only be one thing: electroshock.

The electric noise stopped just as suddenly as it had started, but Vaughn could still be heard moaning. “Why don’t you see for yourself,” the cool male voice said. He stood behind Sydney and pulled off her blindfold. Out of the corner of her eye she could see a tan, muscular arm with a large tattoo high on the shoulder. That was all of him she could see, but she knew it was Vaughn.

Just as she was trying to get a view of the man behind her, the electric noise started again and Sydney could see Vaughn’s arm convulsing violently. Tears burned in her eyes at the sound of him screaming in such agonizing pain. She had only been a victim of one short electroshock, but that was enough for her to know she never wanted to experience it again. “No stop,” she said, her voice weakened by tears.

The electroshock stopped at the sound of her voice. “So tell me Sydney… where is the Shield?” he asked. Sydney bit her lip, trying to formulate a lie on the fly but before she could answer Vaughn’s electroshock started once more.

“NO STOP!! STOP! Please!” she begged. “It’s in Los Angeles… a residential location… basement,” she managed.

“Good, very good,” the cool voice said as Vaughn’s electroshock ceased. Then, he crammed the hood back down over Sydney’s head before asking, “Address?”

Sydney gave the address with a slight sob before she was roughly untied from her chair and carried back to her cell. Once there, she waited for an agonizing hour, or so it seemed, before Vaughn was dumped back into their cell, his body twitching with occasional tremors.

“Oh my god Vaughn, I’m sorry,” Sydney sniffed as she crouched down beside him.

“’snot…fault…,” he managed, though his jaw was trembling so badly it was difficult for him to speak.

“Come here, come on,” she said as she lifted his body off the ground and pulled it towards her, which was very difficult since he wasn’t helping at all and her hands were still handcuffed together. His body was still shaking occasionally so Sydney looped her handcuffed hands over his head so that she was hugging him from behind. She pulled his body close to hers and tried to brush the sweat from his face and neck using her shirt.

“Syd…,” he managed to croak as he brought a limp hand up to cover hers.

“Shh, just try to relax,” she said in a soothing voice. She nuzzled her face into his hair and kissed the crown of his head while saying, “Just relax….just relax... you’re going to be okay…”



Chapter 6

After only a little while, Vaughn managed to fall asleep in Sydney’s comforting embrace. When he awoke hours later, his body was still aching and incredibly weak, but the feeling of Sydney’s warm breath softly against his neck kept him going. Fearing that he was crushing her since all his weight was against her, he tried to move, but immediately found moving was near impossible.

Feeling Vaughn shifting caused Sydney to stir from her sleep. “Vaughn? Are you okay?” she asked, her voice slightly sluggish from sleep.

“Relatively,” he grunted. “Trying…to sit up,” he managed. Using her arms, that were still around his neck, Sydney managed to pull Vaughn up so that he was sitting against the wall and not against her. Then, she unlooped her arms from around his neck and crawled over to where their food was nearby the door.

“Here,” she said, holding a cup of water to his lips and allow him to take a few gentle sips. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I was run over by a truck that had metal spikes for wheels,” he said while wincing slightly.

“I’m sorry,” Sydney said, her voice indicating a great deal of guilt.

“Sydney this isn’t your fault. You weren’t the one throwing the switch.”

“But I shouldn’t have taunted them like that! I can’t help it though… its my thing…”

Vaughn couldn’t help but laugh softly. “I never met anyone who would taunt the people torturing her before. You really are one of a kind Bristow,” he told her. Sydney couldn’t help but crack a small smile at this as she nudged him gently with her elbow. “Seriously, though, why did you tell them? I mean, I could have held out…”

“No, you couldn’t have,” she told him seriously.

“But….”

She sighed heavily and was silent for a few moments before speaking again. “If we all die in battle, then there’s no one left to fight the war, fighting for the end. Sometimes losing one of the battles is what it takes to win because… you’re still here aren’t you?”

“I suppose…,” he said slowly. He wasn’t quite sure what ‘war’ she was speaking of; she knew she meant fighting for something larger than just the two of them and wondered if, perhaps, it had to do with her double agent status.

“Besides,” she said a moment later, her voice more playful. “All you really need is to know how to play the game; their game… after that…,” she let her voice drift off.

Intrigued by her statement, he looked over in her direction. If he wasn’t aware of a war her certainly wasn’t aware of a game that was being played on or by them. Thinking about her statement in a less literal sense he wondered aloud, “Does that mean you d-”

“You should rest,” Sydney cut him off as she looped her arms around his neck once more. “You’ll feel better if you rest.”

~*~

Another few hours passed with Michael asleep on Sydney’s shoulder before the door to their cell burst open. Sydney’s head snapped up immediately and, in the doorway, she could see the outline of a large figure but couldn’t see his face due to the blinding light coming from behind him. Instead of giving them food or dragging them from the room, the figure entered the room and yanked Sydney by her hair, pulling her away from Vaughn and throwing her across the room. With this commotion, Vaughn began to stir.

“You lying bitch!” a second man, who had just entered the room shouted to her.

“You sound surprised Sark,” Sydney managed as she tried to regain her footing. She had almost stood when the first man punched her in the face hard enough to send her sprawling to the ground once more. After a few more punches and kicks, the larger man pinned Sydney to the ground while she tried her best to kick and fight him off, but it was no use; he was just too big for her.

Fearing the worst was coming next, Vaughn mustered all the strength he had left in him to stagger across the room and grab Sark from behind, choking him before throwing him into the nearest wall. Sark retaliated quickly and was able to knock the weakened Vaughn to the floor with ease. He then turned on Sydney. “Isn’t that sweet, you’ve made a friend?” he taunted.

“More than you’ll ever have you worthless-” but her words were cut off by a hand clamping down over her mouth, muffling any sound she tried to make.

In the darkness it was difficult for Vaughn to tell what exactly was going on, but he knew no good could come of both men hovering over Sydney, especially when combined with her muffled terrified screams. He pulled himself from the ground once more and crawled his way over to them. To his luck, he found a knife on the ground a few feet away from them, which had obviously been knocked loose in the scuffle. Using it the best he could, Vaughn jammed it into the back of the larger man with his hand clamped over Sydney’s face. He immediately yelped in pain and released Sydney.

The injured man fled the room but Sark stayed, apparently more furious than ever. “Tell us where the Shield is,” he demanded along with the unmistakable sound of a gun safety being switched off.

Vaughn crawled over to Sydney, hovering his body protectively over hers while she managed to croak out, “Burn in hell.” A shot was fired but, luckily, it missed them in the darkness. With that, Sark left, slamming the door behind him.

“Are you okay?” Vaughn asked Sydney once he was gone.

After coughing for a moment, Sydney managed to utter, “Fine,” in a raspy voice. Using all the strength he had left, Vaughn pulled her into his arms as he leaned back against the wall in their cell. She tucked her body up against his as she rested her head on his shoulder. They were silent a few moments before she croaked out, “Thanks Vaughn.”

“Hey, why’d you start calling me Vaughn?” he asked, wondering why she was using his last name when he was using her first.

“Sounds better,” she sighed. “Thanks Vaughn.”

“Of course,” he told her. “Anytime.”



Chapter 7

For the next few days Sydney and Vaughn were left alone aside from their food and water being delivered. Vaughn was almost entirely recovered from his electroshock trauma by the time the men came in once more and dragged Sydney out with them. Instead of being taken to an interrogation room or, worse, the electroshock room, Sydney was thrown into another completely empty holding cell room. That room was much smaller than the one she shared with Vaughn and, surprisingly, it had a very tiny window covered in bars up near the ceiling. For the first time in she wasn’t quite sure how long, Sydney could see her hands and the rest of her body. Not surprisingly, she was filthy and covered in bruises but, on the bright side, nothing was broken.

Sydney wasn’t sure exactly what the purpose of putting her in this different cell was, especially when they let her stay with Vaughn so long, but their separation concerned her. Without them being together, she was completely unaware of what was going on with Vaughn. They could have been electroshocking him again and she wouldn’t be there to comfort him afterwards. With that thought came another slightly more frightening one to Sydney. What exactly was she doing? She was legitimately falling for the man she was sharing her captivity with and that… well, she wasn’t sure what that was.

Alone in the room and alone with her thoughts, Sydney wondered what exactly her feelings were for Vaughn, arguing back and forth between logic and her heart. For part of the time she was angry with herself for being so comforted by the feeling of his warm body beside hers. Another part of the time she was almost laughing at the fact that before being captured, she’d sit home alone wishing she could have someone to share her life with and, after being locked in a cell with Vaughn she’d almost rather be there than in her own home just so she didn’t have to be alone.

The more she thought about it, she wondered if Vaughn felt the same way about her or would he think she was just insane, transferring her fears about the uncertainty of her future onto finding comfort in him and thus manifesting romantic feelings that would disappear the moment they were released. Anything was possible and, the more she thought the more confused she became. All she knew for sure was sitting alone up against the cement walls of her new, smaller cell, she missed Vaughn more than ever.

~*~

Sydney wasn’t sure how much time had passed sitting in her tiny cell with no human interaction whatsoever. That cell had a flap at the bottom of the door where food and water were pushed inside, so she hadn’t seen anyone in however long she had been in there. She was counting her feedings though. So far there had been twenty, which meant she had been alone in that room for anywhere from ten to fifteen days, since, judging by the length of time between her feedings, sometimes she was fed twice a day and sometimes she was not. With each passing day she became increasingly worried about Vaughn and how he was fairing, until one day when she heard some news that, unfortunately, was not favorable.

Hearing voices outside her door was not an unusual occurrence. Usually it was henchmen or guards of some type walking down the hallway, chatting as they went. They spoke of nothing of real importance, typically about their next meal or their plans for that evening, in a variety of languages. On that particular occasion, though, they were talking about ‘the American man’ and how he had been ‘taken care of’.

The menacing cackles of the speakers caused Sydney’s heart to break. She should have been more logical in her thinking, wondering if perhaps these men were simply lying about this in order to get to her, but she didn’t. All that was in her mind was what was in her heart; concern for Vaughn’s safety. After all, he had protected her and showed her kindness and strength. On top of that, she missed him.

Another day passed filled with Sydney wondering about Vaughn’s fate when the door to her cell swung open and a large man filled the doorway. He picked her up, that time by her legs, and dragged her down the hallway. From the path they were taking Sydney realized that he was returning her to her original cell, the one she had shared with Vaughn. Once they arrived there, she was tossed inside, like usual, her shoulder landing painfully on the floor. “Jesus would it kill you to be gentle?!” she snapped as the door slammed shut.

“Sydney…,” Vaughn’s voice startled her so much that she gasped.

“Vaughn… a-are you alright?” she asked, crawling towards the direction from which his voice came.

“I’m fine,” he said. He reached out his arms towards the direction of her voice and groped around until he came in contact with her head. After fumbling for a moment they were able to grasp each others hands while Vaughn pulled her close to him. “I was so worried… I thought they might have…,” he let his voice drift off, not needing to utter his horrible thought aloud.

“No, no I’m fine. I was worried about you, are you sure you’re alright?” she asked.

“Yeah… they’ve got me in handcuffs now, but I’m fine,” he told her. Sydney slid her head underneath his handcuffed hands and curled up in his embrace. The moment her head found that perfect spot in the crook of his neck she sighed with great relief, knowing that for the first time in over a week she could finally relax.

Vaughn pulled Sydney close to him and rested his lips gently against her forehead. Ever since she was taken and not returned, he had been so worried, he was barely able to sleep for every time he closed his eyes terrible scenarios of her being electroshocked or killed entered his mind. “I missed you,” he said in a quiet voice. It was the truth; he had missed talking to her, as ridiculous as it sounded being that they were chained and locked up in a cement room.

Sydney lifted her head and, in doing so, neared her face to his. She brought her hands up and found his face, feeling stubble on his jaw that had long since turned into a full beard in their two months of captivity. Tracing her fingertips along his jaw line she found his chin and, just above that, his lips. Using her fingertips as a guide, Sydney pressed her lips against his for one very brief moment before lowering her head to his neck once more. Tingles filled her spine as she sighed, “I missed you too.”



Chapter 8

When Sydney kissed him, Vaughn was shocked and, naturally, began obsessing over it as Sydney snuggled up in his arms. Their lips touching had been so brief, was it really even a kiss. Surely it was purposeful on Sydney’s part and not accidental, but what was it? Was it a ‘hi, I’m glad to be back’ kiss? Or a ‘I want you, but we’re gross and in a box so we can’t’ kiss? Or, worst of all, was it a ‘I wonder what this is like… oh, never mind, it sucked’ kiss? For a while he debated asking Sydney what it was but then decided against it, figuring it could create an awkward situation and that was the absolute last thing they needed considering they were trapped together with no way out. In the end he just decided to ignore it, at least, for the time being.

“So, where were you?” Vaughn asked Sydney after they had taken a brief nap in each other’s arms.

“Dunno… just some other room. No one talked to me; no one hit me, nothin’. What about you?” she asked.

“Same. No one came in, no one hit,” he sighed.

“You think we’ll ever get out of here?” she asked, not sure if she wanted to know his opinion or not, depending if it was positive or negative.

“I dunno,” he said, his voice more hopeful than negative. “I’ve never really been held captive before so…”

“I was,” she said quietly. “But it was only a few days. I think we’ve been here two months.”

“Yeah…,” he let his voice drift off slightly before laughing softly. “So much for my field duty being reinstated.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well… only a few weeks before I got stuck here my field duty was reinstated after a six month leave of absence,” he explained. Then, without even waiting for her to ask why he gave a reason, “I… I found out who killed my father and I needed some time off. He was killed in action.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice sincere.

“’sokay. It was over twenty years ago. I had been looking into his death practically ever since I joined the agency… it’s what led me here actually… I found out her name – the name of the woman who killed him. She was KGB but undercover in the US as a-”

“Oh god,” Sydney gulped as she pushed her body away from him. Suddenly she felt sicker than she had ever felt in her life. He didn’t even have to say anymore; she already knew.

“What is it? Are you okay?” he asked. He was concerned at how haunted and ill her voice had sounded.

Without even giving an answer, Sydney made her way towards the door of their cell and began banging on it frantically. “Where is she?! I wanna see her! I know you can hear me!” she shouted. “I wanna see her god damnit where is she?!”

“Sydney, Sydney what are you doing?!” Vaughn asked, utterly confused. He tried to make his way over to her to calm her but, before he could, the door swung open, knocking Sydney backwards slightly.

She regained her footing within a moment and charged towards the door, still shouting hysterically, “Where is she damn it?! Where is she? I wanna see her I wanna tell her that I hate her and she ruined my life. Where is she? Where-” Sydney’s screams were cut off by the butt of a gun crashing into her forehead, knocking her backwards. Once she was flat on the ground, the door to their cell slammed shut and Vaughn rushed over to her.

“God, Sydney, what’s the matter with you? What the hell were you thinking?” he asked, scooping up her limp frame. It took Sydney a moment for her consciousness to return, but, when she began to move, Vaughn continued his questioning, asking if she was alright.

“No, don’t touch me,” she said, trying to squirm away from him, but Vaughn held tightly to her trembling body, not letting her escape.

“Sydney, please, what’s going on?” he asked, his voice sounding surprisingly calm for how panicked he was feeling.

“Don’t you see? Don’t you get it? She did this. She’s behind it all. She’s working with Sark and she-she did this,” Sydney choked out.

“Who, Sydney, who?”

“Irina Derevko.”

Vaughn gasped. He had not been expecting that name. “How did you…”

“She’s my mother,” Sydney said with a slight whimper.

With hat comment, Vaughn loosened his grasp on her out of pure shock. “W-what?” he gulped, trying to moisten his throat that had gone dry.

“Irina Derevko is my mother,” Sydney repeated, her voice slowly becoming stronger. “She tricked my father into marrying her and had me to keep up appearances that their marriage was legitimate, when really it was a lie. When I was six she died, or so we thought. Turns out she just faked her death… I didn’t know the truth until about eight months ago, though. Well, eight months before I got in here,” she told him.

They were both silent for quiet some time before Sydney said finally in a desperate voice, “Vaughn I’m so sorry. I’m so, so, so sorry for what she did to you and your family and-”

“Sydney,” Vaughn cut off her apologies with his hands gently resting on her cheeks, brushing away the tears that he felt there. “Sydney it’s not your fault. You had nothing to do with who she was or her actions. Look at you! You’re in here too – this isn’t your fault.”

“I’m still sorry,” she said quietly.

“I know you are,” he sighed. Then he pulled her body closer to his and, like she had done earlier that day, he pressed a very gentle kiss upon her lips. Instead of breaking away that time, though, Sydney pulled him closer with her hands resting on his arms. Their kiss grew more heated as Sydney rolled back onto the concrete floor, taking Vaughn with her.

Her hands had nearly slipped underneath Vaughn’s shirt before she had an attack of conscience. “Wait, god, we-”

“I know,” Vaughn sighed breathlessly. Their faces lingered together for another moment before Vaughn sat up and leaned back against the wall beside them. In another minute Sydney did the same, making sure to leave some space between them. Then, the two of them sat silently in the awkwardness they had created.



Chapter 9

For over a day Sydney and Vaughn sat in utter silence, neither wanting to be the first to break the ice they had created. Both were thinking similar thoughts: had their passionate kiss merely been an attempt for one of them to comfort the other or had it been a result of real, true feelings for one another. Both were confused as, not only the gravity of their pre-kiss discovery sunk in, but the depression of being trapped in a dark room for over a month took over. Finally, it was Vaughn who spoke first.

“Are we just not going to talk ever again?”

“No…”

“So let’s talk about it,” he said.

“I don’t know what to say,” Sydney said honestly.

“Well, we kissed,” he pointed out the obvious. “So… did you…I mean… is there something…”

“I don’t know,” Sydney sighed. “Maybe…”

“Maybe,” Vaughn repeated.

Silence hung between them for another few minutes until Sydney said, “Let’s talk about something else.”

“Okay…”

“Tell me about the time you and Eric went to Vegas,” she said seriously. This was a story she had been trying to get out of her humorous handler for months, but he never budged. Apparently something very dramatic or, at the very least, unique had happened, and she was desperate to find out.

Vaughn laughed loudly at her question. “How did you know I went on that trip?”

“Lucky guess,” she responded.

“Mmm well, you know, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,” he responded.

“What are you afraid you’re going to disturb me with a story about a hooker who turned out to be a transvestite?” she asked so seriously that he laughed.

“Aw man, I thought Eric didn’t tell you what happened to him in Vegas,” he said with equal seriousness that made her laugh. “No, there weren’t any transvestite hookers, but Eric did win a Wayne Newton look-alike contest.”

“You’re kidding?!”

“Nope – did I mention it was a look-alike combined with sing-alike contest?”

Sydney snorted. “Oh god, please tell me someone got it on video.”

“Sadly no,” Vaughn sighed. “But that’s why he won’t talk about it – he doesn’t want to have to re-perform his award winning version of Danke Schoën.”

“Oh man,” Sydney said with a deep breath, trying to regulate her breathing after laughing so hard. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard in years.”

“It really, really was…,” Vaughn said with a slight laugh.

Their conversation continued for the rest of that day and on into the next. Mostly it consisted of Vaughn telling stories about his friends insane antics and Sydney laughing, though she did throw in a few handler-slipups of his she had been a part of that were amusing (in retrospect, of course). As they slept those next few days, Sydney would sleep in between Vaughn’s legs with his arms wrapped around her and her body up against his chest, completely enveloped by him. Feeling his chest gently rising and falling beneath her gave her a sense of calm that, in all the hatred and harshness around them, she had someone who cared about her right there beside her.

“If you had one wish, what would it be?” Vaughn asked quietly one day shortly after they had eaten. “I mean, aside from getting out of here.”

She thought for a few moments before sighing, “I don’t know… what’s yours?”

“To not be so lonely I guess,” he said. “Before this I was kinda alone at my house… every night of the week. I was pretty much a loser.”

Sydney laughed softly at this. “No girlfriend?”

“Nah, too busy. Plus, I couldn’t stand the whole lying and secrecy thing, you know? I mean, I couldn’t tell her what I really did and… that just bothers me, you know? ‘cause I’m usually so honest,” he said. Sydney nodded in complete understanding of such a situation. “What about you? Did you have a boy-”

“No,” she answered quickly. They were silent for a few more minutes before Sydney finally came up with an answer to his question. “If I had one wish, it would be that I could have my mother back… well, a mother that was the way my mother was when I was five and six years old. I missed that growing up, you know? I never had anyone to talk to or even fight with… and, my dad… he wasn’t around either. I mean, he is now… sort of, but… I wish I had a mother; a good one and not one that killed other peoples parents…,” she sighed. Vaughn rubbed her shoulder gently at this and kissed her forehead.

Later that day, Sydney and Vaughn were nearly asleep when the door to their cell creaked open. This time, instead of a large figure towering in the doorframe, a smaller one stepped inside. “Sydney…”

Sydney groaned at the sound of her mother’s voice. “Go away,” she grumbled, snuggling tighter to Vaughn. Instead of pulling her closer, though, Vaughn sat up, having know idea who the woman in front of them was and why exactly Sydney was being so casual towards her.

“I thought you wanted to see me,” Irina told her. Vaughn swallowed hard, finally realizing. This was Irina Derevko.

“Yeah well I don’t anymore,” Sydney muttered.

“Sydney, listen to me,” her mother said as she approached them. “Sydney I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Sydney snapped. “Killing Vaughn’s father? Ruining my life? Ruining Dad’s?”

“I’m sorry for keeping you here all this time. Come with me; I’ll get you out.”

Sydney gave a barkish laugh in disbelief. “Yeah, I’ll just go ahead and believe you then…,” she muttered.

“Would you stop being so stubborn and come with me?! Both of you!” she demanded. With her comment, Vaughn began to stand, but Sydney didn’t move.

“What are you doing?! It could be a trap,” Sydney told him.

“We could be getting out,” he said hopefully in return. She gave a non believing grumble.

“Sydney, listen to me. I heard what you said about wanting a mother. It’s my fault you don’t have one and I’m sorry for that. Please, let me help you now,” Irina said. Sydney was shocked by the fact that her mother actually seemed to be sounding genuine, yet still, she was skeptical. “Come on!” Irina said, her voice slightly more impatient.

“Fine,” Sydney said, slowly standing. “But if you’re double crossing us I’m gonna tell Dad to kill you.”



Chapter 10

Ten minutes later, Sydney and Vaughn were creeping down the empty corridors following Irina’s lead. Vaughn was brining up the rear of their strange party and, though he was concerned that Irina was, in fact, tricking them, he was distracted by the fact that it was the first time he was seeing Sydney in proper lighting, or her mother (aka his father’s killer) for that matter.

Though he had only a brief glimpse of their faces, their family resemblance was noticeable. Both Sydney and her mother were about the same height and had similar body structures, both having long limbs and slender yet muscular bodies. Vaughn noted that they also had the same color hair, though Sydney’s was slightly darker and matted, but Vaughn knew that was because neither of them had showered for months.

When they came to the end of the hallway, Irina held up her hand, signaling for them to stop. When Sydney stopped walking, she glanced back towards Vaughn briefly, but then did a double take, realizing the same thing he had a few moments earlier; for the first time they could see each other.

She gave him a soft smile as she looked into his green eyes. One look confirmed everything she had ever suspected about him; he was a genuine good, honest person, a person she loved even after such a brief amount of time. After looking into his eyes for a few moments, she began focusing on other aspects of his face but, because of his beard, couldn’t tell much. Noting that he was smiling at her, she whispered, “Hey.”

“Hey,” he whispered in return, studying her chocolate brown eyes. “You’re beautiful,” he told her. She looked away, blushing slightly. Before she could utter a response Irina beckoned for them to continue on. They snuck down another long hallway before coming to a stop at a pair of industrial steel doors that appeared to be heavily padlocked.

“This facility is located one hundred miles from Mexico City. It’s up in the mountains so you’ve got a long journey ahead of you. Here,” Irina said, pressing a flashlight into her daughter’s hand. “You’ve got about six hours yet until dawn.”

“What kind of security is surrounding the building?” Sydney asked.

“Three guards circle the perimeter. This is the back of the building so there’s a large fence, but that’s all the security,” Irina explained. Giving a slightly annoyed look, Sydney held up her handcuffed hands in front of her mother’s face. From her pocket Irina pulled a key and handed it to her saying, “It unlocks both.”

After unlocking her own handcuffs Sydney passed the key to Vaughn, who did the same. Once they were unhancuffed, Irina unlocked the doors and Vaughn slipped out into the dark night. Sydney hung back, staring her mother down for a moment before reaching behind her back and pulling out the gun that was stashed there. “I’m taking this,” Sydney said before following Vaughn out into the darkness.

They hugged the side of the building as they made their way towards a corner. Once they reached it, Vaughn peered around the side and saw no one. “Clear,” he said quietly. He and Sydney then took off running towards the fence that could be seen a few hundred yards away in the dull moonlight.

“Is it electric?” Sydney asked quietly once they reached it.

Vaughn picked up a stick from the ground and threw it into the fence; nothing. Then, tentatively he touched it and, feeling no shock, he said, “No, but its too high to climb, plus there are probably barbs at the top.”

“What do you suggest then?” Sydney asked quietly.

Vaughn walked slowly along the fence, looking for a point of weakness where it could be broken. Finally, he found one and tried to pull it apart. Unfortunately, it made a loud noise and alerted a nearby guard. He shined his flashlight directly on them and began shouting in Spanish. Using the gun in her hand, Sydney shot him.

“What the hell’d you do that for?!” Vaughn hissed to her.

“He was calling more guards…”

“And you don’t think the gunshot did that?! Come on,” he said, yanking her through the hole in the fence he had created. They took off running, but could hear the guards close behind them. In their malnourished, exhausted state, it was difficult for them to run as fast as they needed to, so Vaughn began searching for an alternate plan.

Since they were unaware of the surrounding terrain, they ended up running straight towards the edge of a steep cliff. With the guards close behind them, they were trapped. “What do we do?” Sydney asked breathlessly.

Vaughn walked along the edge of the cliff for a few minutes before walking back to Sydney and asking, “Do you trust me?”

“What?”

“Do you trust me?” he repeated.

“Yes…,” she said slowly, wondering what exactly he had planned. Grabbing her by the shoulders, Vaughn shoved her towards a less steep part of the incline below them and gently, but forcefully, pushed her over the edge. Taken by surprise, Sydney let out a scream as she began sliding down the embankment on her back.

After what felt like a few minutes of sliding, Sydney’s feet hit hard ground and she rolled over a few times before she stopped, panting and covered in scratches, ready to kill Vaughn. A moment later he came sliding down after her and rolled right into her at which time she promptly smacked him. “What the hell was that?! You could have killed us.”

“Could have, but didn’t,” he said. She could hear the smirk in his voice and smacked him once more as they clambered to their feet. “Let’s go,” he said, grabbing her hand as they continued to run through the wooded area.

“This is ridiculous. We have no idea where we’re going. We could be going back towards them!” Sydney exclaimed.

“Don’t you know how to follow the stars?” Vaughn asked her.

“Um… no,” she said in a tone that made it clear she thought his question was insane.

“Well we’re going north… wherever that leads to,” he explained as they continued to walk.

After fifteen minutes of walking they came to a road and began to follow it. Another ten minutes brought them to a street sign, directing them towards Mexico City. “Come on; there’s a safe house nearby here.”

“Oh and you know that because you just happen to have all the CIA safe house locations memorized?!” Sydney snapped at him.

“Um, no, because I used it once before. You don’t need to be mean about it,” he told her seriously.

“Sorry,” she mumbled in a slightly sheepish tone. “I just… I think I have sticks in my pants from that damn hill.” Vaughn couldn’t help but laugh at this comment as he led the way towards the safe house.

Using the flashlight, they were able to find the safe house and let themselves inside, shutting the door tightly behind them. Sydney groped along the inside walls for a light switch but there was none that she could find. Vaughn used their flashlight to find a book of matches and an oil lamp, which he lit. “Ohh, high tech,” Sydney commented.

“Yeah well… no electricity, no running water…,” Vaughn said with a slight shrug.

“I think we need to have a serious talk with the CIA about the quality of their safe houses,” Sydney said, setting her mother’s gun down on the table. She then looked around the dimly lit room. It was very tiny with only a table beside a single bed, no windows and nothing that appeared to be supplies.

“Probably,” Vaughn sighed. Then, he reached out for her hand and pulled her closer to him and the lamp so he could get a better look at her. He gently traced the outline of her face with his fingertips as she stared up at him, studying his face intently. “You’re beautiful,” Vaughn told her. She looked away and even in the dull light he could tell that she was blushing. “Sydney,” he said, calling her attention back to him.

She leaned up and kissed him gently. “I’m glad I can finally see you too – you’re not so bad looking yourself.”

“Were you worried?” he asked, his tone playful.

“Yes, actually. I had you pegged as an ogre.”

“Well I just recently had my hump removed….,” he said so casually that she burst out laughing. “I love your laugh,” he told her with a smile.

“I love your eyes,” she told him softly in return before kissing him once more. Vaughn pulled her close to him, his one hand gently cupping her face and his other drifting underneath her shirt.

At the feeling of his fingertips brushing against the sensitive skin on her stomach Sydney gasped and pulled back. “I… we…,” she paused as her eyes drifted towards the bed beside them. “We shouldn’t…”

“Probably not,” Vaughn sighed before brining his lips down to hers. That time during their kiss they took two stumbling steps towards the bed.

“Wait,” Sydney stopped them once more. “Do… do you really want our first time to be like this?”

A smile crossed Vaughn’s face. “First time implies there’ll be more.”

“It does,” she said with a gentle nod. He leaned down to kiss her but she pulled back. “Wait I haven’t showered or shaved in months.”

“Uh, hello?!” Vaughn laughed. Sydney laughed slightly. “I don’t care if you don’t,” he told her.

Sydney didn’t react for a moment as she stared up into his eyes. Finally, she leaned up to kiss him but, right before she did, she whispered, “don’t care,” against his lips.

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Chapters 11-16 + Epilogue