Fic: "Rules of Engagement" (Alias, S/V, 10/10)
"Rules of Engagement"
Chapter: Ten
Summary: A mission to London changes Sydney's life drastically.
Category: Sydney/Vaughn drama/romance
Rating: PG-13
Canon: "The Box, Part Two"
Thanks: Thank you to Souris and to Abs for the fabulous beta-readings.
I woke up the next morning, and Alice was sitting in the living room, her suitcase on the floor beside her. She was on the phone, talking intently with someone. I cleared my throat loudly, and her gaze moved to rest on my face. She waved, and then held up an index finger, mouthing, "Just a second."
I nodded, padding into the kitchen and opening the refrigerator. Frowning, I pushed a milk carton that was past its date out of the way, looking toward the back. Empty. I really needed to go to my mom's house and raid her kitchen.
"I'm getting out of your hair," Alice's voice announced from behind me.
I looked up, shutting the refrigerator. "Did you find an apartment?"
"Sort of," she said, fidgeting. "I found a roommate."
"Good," I said thoughtfully. "I hope she's nicer than that slob you lived with when I met you."
"Actually," she said, pausing, "it's not a she."
I raised an eyebrow. "Oh. Sorry. Uh...congratulations."
"Oh, stop it," she commanded. "He's a nice guy. His name is Alex. We've been seeing each other for a few weeks."
"Where'd you meet him?"
"At work," she said. "Same place you met yours."
I frowned. "I'm not dating anyone."
"Right..." she said, drawing out the word. "So, you were out by yourself last night?"
"No," I said defensively. "I'm not dating her. She's a friend from work."
"What's her name?"
I hesitated, and she smirked. "You see? That's how I know you're dating her. Because you're all nervous."
"Am not."
"I can read you like an open book, Michael Vaughn," she said gleefully. "Is she nice?"
"I'm not dating her," I repeated.
Alice shook her head. "Denial, denial. Anyway, I'm leaving this morning, so I wanted to thank you for your lovely hospitality."
"No problem," I mumbled.
She walked over and smacked a kiss on my cheek. "I'll see you, Mike."
"Yeah," I replied. "See you, Allie."
I sighed, walking into the living room and picking up the lighter on the table. I turned it over in my hands, and then put it back down on the table. I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a dishtowel out of a drawer, wrapping the bug securely in the fabric and stowing it in the back of one of the drawers in my dresser. Picking up the phone in the living room, I decided that I needed to make two calls: one to my mother to beg her to take the dog to the vet, and one to Weiss, to find out what the hell this lighter really was.
***
I was supposed to meet Sydney at her house at five-thirty, so I ran to the grocery store to buy some milk and talk with Weiss at three.
"What's going on?" he asked from across the aisle, peering into the shelves as if he expected something to suddenly appear.
"Alice left this morning; she found a place to live."
"That's good. It's about time she cut that umbilical cord." He picked up a package of Rice-a-Roni and scrutinized it. "That's not the only thing you called me about, is it?"
"No," I replied. "She found this on my floor before I left for Berlin. I'd almost forgotten it." I slid the fabric-swaddled blue lighter across the shelf to him.
He unwrapped the bundle and turned over the blue lighter, then wrapped it up again. "What is this?"
"A lighter," I replied.
"You started smoking again? Because I'm still on the wagon, you know..."
"You're mixing up addictions again," I said, smirking. "No, I'm not smoking again. She found this on my floor. It's not mine."
"I assume it's not hers," he guessed.
I nodded. "And my mother's the only other person who's been in my house lately besides you and Driscoll, so I have no idea where it came from."
"You think it's something?"
"The bug detector that Jack gave me didn't pick it up. I don't know what it is, but I thought it was worth checking out."
He turned it over in his hand, and then slipped it in his pants pocket. "I'll have tech look at it."
"Okay," I said, grabbing the gallon of milk I'd come for. "I'm going to dinner with Sydney at Sloane's tonight. She'll talk with you next."
"Have fun," he remarked flippantly.
I rolled my eyes. "Thanks."
***
She looked gorgeous, even though she was fidgeting nervously and she was only wearing one shoe. "Am I early?" I asked, looking down at her bare toes and silver toenails.
"No, I'm running really late," she said breathlessly. "Come in."
I peered into the room. "You sure?"
"Yeah," she said. "Don't worry, no one's here, no grilling sessions."
I nearly sighed in relief, but thought the better of it. "So..."
"I'm just going to apologize in advance," she said, puttering around the room, searching for something. "I might end up being a total basket case tonight."
"I don't think you're capable of basket-case behavior," I argued, purposely not bringing up the pier or her mother or a few other things. I sat down on the couch and sank down a little, which is the mark of an excellent couch, in my opinion.
She shook her head. "Well, you never know."
"What's wrong with you?"
She mumbled something in response, and I frowned. "What?"
"I said, I don't want to go," she replied softly. "And I feel like a complete ass for feeling that way."
"Syd--"
"She's my friend, Vaughn, and she's dying, and I'm so afraid of going to see her that I want to chicken out and stay home," she said quickly, sitting down in a chair and resting her head in her hands.
"Sydney, listen to me," I said, watching her intently. "You don't have to apologize for being scared of this."
"I'm not scared," she argued stubbornly. "I don't get scared. I'm not supposed to."
"You're allowed."
She looked up at me and sighed. "Just...fair warning."
"I think I can handle it," I replied, offering her a slow smile.
"I'd make a clever 'handler' joke here, but I can't think of one off the top of my head," she murmured, and I felt a huge grin spread across my face.
She stood and walked across the room, still limping slightly because of her shoe-less foot. "Check under the couch?" she requested, sitting down next to me, close enough that her arm brushed mine when I moved.
I nodded, reaching under the couch and sweeping my hand around the space. "Found it," I muttered when my fingers caught something small and strappy. I pulled the shoe out and dangled it in front of her.
She sighed in relief, grabbing the shoe and slipping it on. "We'd better go; we're going to be late." She reached for my hand and twined her fingers through mine. "Grab that bottle of wine on the table?"
She reached out and snagged the bottle as we walked past; I opened door for her, and we hurried out to my car. We barely spoke on the drive there; Sydney fidgeted nervously in her seat and held onto my free hand tightly. "There," she said, pointing at the house when we turned onto Sloane's street. "That one."
I pulled the car to a stop on the street in front of the house, and we got out of the car and hurried up the walk. I stood a little behind her as she rang the doorbell, looking around the house. This was strange; I was going to be eating dinner at the head of SD-6's house. I wondered what Haladki would have said about this....
"Sydney!" Sloane greeted us happily, opening the door wide to reveal a lavishly decorated room. "I'm so glad you two could make it. Hello, Michael." Taken aback by his use of my first name, I realized that he was addressing me, and I gave a small nod in recognition, handing him the bottle of wine. "This looks excellent, thank you."
"How's Emily?" Sydney asked softly, hanging close to me as we stepped into the house.
Sloane shrugged. "She's excited about dinner tonight. It made her whole face light up when I told her you were coming."
She smiled softly. "I'm glad. I've missed her."
"She's missed you too, but she understands that you're busy," he said, leading us into the dining room. Jack was standing off to one side of the table, talking in a low voice with Emily. She was a small woman with a drawn face and a scarf wrapped around her head. She smiled maternally when Sydney walked in the room.
"Sydney!" she exclaimed happily.
Sydney hurried around the table to give Emily a hug. "I'm sorry it's been so long," she murmured.
Emily shook her head slightly. "I know you're busy," she said quickly. "Are you going to introduce me to your friend?"
Sydney stood and walked the few feet back to me, looping her arm through mine. "Emily, this is Michael Vaughn. Michael, this is Emily."
I reached out to shake Emily's frail hand. "It's wonderful to meet you. Sydney's told me all about you."
Emily gave me a warm smile. "It's lovely to meet you, too. Arvin says you're the best new employee he's had in quite some time."
"Thank you," I said, a little surprised, and turned to Sloane, who nodded.
"Well," Jack said, jumping into the conversation a little mechanically, "shall we?"
We sat and ate, and the conversation mostly stemmed around a vacation that Sloane and Emily were planning to take in a week's time. Emily's attention didn't turn back to me until we were drinking an after-dinner glass of wine. "So, Michael," she began lightly, "how long have you been working in finance?"
"I started in banking right after grad school," I replied, sitting back in my chair, trying to ignore Jack's glances from across the table.
She nodded. "Arvin has mentioned that you're a lawyer," she said, taking a small sip of wine.
"Yeah," I said, leaning forward. "I went to law school, but I was always interested in international law and financing."
Sloane suddenly stood. "Emily, if you don't mind, I'd like to show Jack and Michael that new billiard table we bought last week."
Emily looked a little surprised, but she nodded. "Of course." She turned to Sydney and smiled. "Sydney and I need to catch up a little."
Sydney returned Emily's warm smile and stood. "Would you like to go out to the garden?"
"Actually, let's go into the living room. It's more comfortable," Emily suggested, struggling a little to stand. Sloane rushed over to help her, and I could see an uncertain, uncomfortable expression flicker on Sydney's face. I wanted to grasp her hand, give her a comforting hug, but I couldn't, not there.
"Sure," Sydney replied with false cheerfulness. "It's probably too cool outside, anyway."
"Come on, I'll show you that table," Sloane repeated, gesturing for us to follow him. I fell into step behind Jack, stealing a quick glance at Sydney, who was helping Emily to a nearby couch.
We walked through another heavily decorated room, back through Sloane's study, where I had the keen remembrance that there was a CIA bug planted somewhere in the room. We passed through a small hallway into a room with tall windows and a huge billiard table in the center of the floor.
Jack whistled. "You've outdone yourself. This is really something."
"Remember that table we played on at Langley?" Sloane asked, chuckling. I tried not to let my expression change, but instead focused my attention on the smooth maroon-colored top of the table. "That old green monstrosity?"
"The one where one of the corner pieces fell off when you sank one into the corner pocket?" Jack asked, a smile spreading across his face. "Seems like a million years ago."
"You play?" Sloane asked me, and I shrugged.
"In college, some," I replied. "I'm not great, but I'm not horrible, either." That was a lie, but I didn't want to draw extra attention to myself. I used to hustle in college for book money.
"Well, let's see," Sloane said, grabbing three cues from their rack on the wall and handing one each to me and to Jack. "Jack, you want to rack 'em?"
My mind raced with ways that I could throw the game; I prayed that they were both excellent players. "You want to break?" Sloane offered.
I declined. "Go ahead."
He did, sinking one ball in a side pocket. I squinted at the table, tallying up the numbers, trying to decide which ones would be mine. He missed the next ball, and Jack motioned for me to go ahead.
"I want to thank you," Sloane began languidly, leaning slightly on his cue, "for the work you've been doing for us. You've been going above and beyond, and it's not going unnoticed."
I gave him a wan smile, tapping the nine-ball into the three and sinking it neatly. One at a time.... "Thank you. I've enjoyed my time with SD-6 so far." Not a complete lie.
Sloane's carefully controlled expression gave way to a slight smirk. "I'm glad."
I missed the next shot on purpose. "Jack?"
Jack gave me an indecipherable look, then leaned over the edge of the table and expertly knocked two of his into one pocket, and then another, and then another. He missed the next shot, breaking the silence with a muttered, "Arvin, it's all yours."
Sloane nodded, and then turned his eyes back to me as he lined up his next shot. "You and Sydney are getting along well?"
I nodded slowly. "She's wonderful to work with. She really knows what she's doing."
"She's one of the biggest assets we have at SD-6," Sloane murmured, dropping the nine-ball into one of the center pockets.
"She's a good agent," I replied, suddenly wary of where this was going.
Jack glanced at Sloane and then me, saying, "I'm going to go grab that bottle of brandy I brought along."
"Good idea," Sloane enthused, and Jack nodded slightly before leaving the room.
I was alone in a room with the man who murdered Sydney's fiancé. Alone in a room with the man who had been a thorn in the CIA's side for years.... He was talking, and I was staring at the pool table. "Sorry?" I asked quickly when his voice signaled a question.
"I asked if the two of you were becoming close," he repeated.
"We're becoming friends," I said coolly.
"I don't know how much Sydney has told you about the organization," he said. "Your shot, by the way ... I consider Sydney as a daughter, and I've had to do some things in the past that no father would ever consider."
I bent carefully over the table and missed the shot, but not on purpose this time. The ball bounced off the edge of the pocket and rolled complacently along the side of the table. I frowned. "She's told me that she broke confidentiality rules a year and a half ago."
"She took a risk that she knew was not called for," Sloane mused. "It had to be dealt with it. I still feel guilty for my actions, but I had to look out for the good of the agency."
"The country comes first," I remarked, tasting the bitter irony of the words as they flowed out of my mouth.
"I want nothing more than to see Sydney happy," he said, smiling a smile that crinkled the edges of his eyes. "Your friendship seems to bring great happiness to her."
I didn't know what to say. "I hope so," I replied lamely.
"Just know that I think it's wonderful that you two are becoming such good friends," he said for a final time, and I nodded. Was he trying to set us up? If I'd had the time, I could have laughed at the strange about-face of the situation. I just nodded again.
Jack returned with the brandy none too soon. "Your shot, Jack," Sloane announced.
"Did I miss anything important?" he asked as he lined up his shot. His voice took on that tone that I still hadn't figured out. Was he kidding? Was he serious? Was he mocking me? It was unnerving.
"Just complimenting Mr. Vaughn again on his excellent work thus far," Sloane said, his eyes still crinkling.
"Be careful, Arvin," Jack said in a carefully measured tone. "You'll never get rid of him."
I was in over my head. I knew that for certain now.
***
"He's definitely trying to set us up," I said as we drove back to her place. "I think it's his sick way of ... I don't know, setting things right with you." I couldn't bring myself to say Danny's name. It was bad enough just thinking it.
She sighed, and I knew she was thinking the same thing. "I know, I know. Emily was insinuating things, too."
"We probably shouldn't," I observed quietly, sneaking a glance at her.
The streetlights traced strange designs on her face in the darkness. "No, no, we probably shouldn't."
"I mean, we're only supposed to have known each other for a little while...."
"And I don't do things like that. Usually." I pulled the car up to the curb and shifted into park.
"Neither do I. Not usually."
Awkward silence, and then she suddenly got out of the car and hurried up the walkway, wrapping her shawl tightly around her shoulders. Her bag was still on the floor on the passenger's side, and just as I got out of the car to give it to her, she stumbled and fell.
"God damn it," she said quietly, sprawled on the sidewalk, her shoulders shaking slightly. I hurried to her, watching as she tried to pull a heel from a crack in the sidewalk. "God damn it!"
"Here, here," I soothed, moving her hands away from her feet. I carefully pulled her foot from the shoe and wrapped my hands around her ankle. "You're okay."
She breathed out a heavy sigh and leaned against me. "Fucking shoe...."
I laughed, wrenching the shoe out of the sidewalk and handing it to her. "You know, of all people, I'd think you'd be the least likely to do this."
"I seem to be doing all sorts of unlikely things lately," she said, her voice slightly muffled against the fabric of my jacket.
"Come on, let me help you...." I helped her stand, but she grimaced when she tried to put weight on the ankle.
"This is typical," she muttered, leaning on me. She winced and drew in a sharp breath when she stepped forward.
"Oh, forget it," I sighed, turning and lifting her into my arms, supporting her with one arm around her back and the other under her knees.
She looked at me with surprise written all over her face, then wordlessly looped her arms around my neck and rested her chin on my shoulder. "Thank you," she said quietly. Her hair brushed against my cheek as we got to the door.
"You're welcome," I replied, shifting her slightly in my hold so that she could unlock the door. She pushed it open and we stepped inside, stumbling a little to the couch.
I set her down carefully and started to step back, thinking of getting some ice for her ankle. But she didn't release her arms from my neck; instead, she pulled me closer and brushed her lips against my jaw. I felt my heart start to race as I sat down beside her on the couch. She wrapped a hand around the back of my neck, and I moved my mouth to hers, her lips fitting naturally with mine.
The kiss was different from the one we'd shared in Germany. Our lips moved languidly; she bit lightly at my lower lip and opened her mouth to mine, deepening the kiss, intensifying it. I moved to wrap my arms around her, and she broke away just long enough to sit up and move closer. She made a small sound deep in her throat as our lips met again.
"We're not on a mission," I said softly as we broke apart. Her cheek rested against mine.
"No, we're not," she said softly.
"Are you sure about ... about this?"
"No," she replied, exhaling slowly. "I'm not sure about anything."
She turned her face back to mine, and our mouths met in a slow kiss that deepened quickly. Our tongues tangled, and her hands smoothed down the front of my shirt. Her fingers toyed with the lapels of my jacket.
Just as I grew confident enough to lean forward, pressing her back against the pillows of the couch, a door slammed, and a quick "Oh!" echoed across the room. We broke apart rapidly.
Francie scurried by, a hand shielding her eyes. "Sorry ... sorry ... not here...."
Sydney shook her head, sighing and giving me a weak smile. I nodded, standing and readjusting my suit jacket. "I'd better...."
"Yeah, yeah," she agreed, touching her flushed cheeks lightly. "I'll see you at work tomorrow morning."
"Right. Hey, get some ice for your ankle."
She nodded. "I will. Thanks for going with me."
"No problem." I headed toward the door, and she twisted on the couch to smile at me. "Good night."
"Night, Vaughn."
I shut the door and drove home with a stupid grin on my face.
Chapter: Ten
Summary: A mission to London changes Sydney's life drastically.
Category: Sydney/Vaughn drama/romance
Rating: PG-13
Canon: "The Box, Part Two"
Thanks: Thank you to Souris and to Abs for the fabulous beta-readings.
I woke up the next morning, and Alice was sitting in the living room, her suitcase on the floor beside her. She was on the phone, talking intently with someone. I cleared my throat loudly, and her gaze moved to rest on my face. She waved, and then held up an index finger, mouthing, "Just a second."
I nodded, padding into the kitchen and opening the refrigerator. Frowning, I pushed a milk carton that was past its date out of the way, looking toward the back. Empty. I really needed to go to my mom's house and raid her kitchen.
"I'm getting out of your hair," Alice's voice announced from behind me.
I looked up, shutting the refrigerator. "Did you find an apartment?"
"Sort of," she said, fidgeting. "I found a roommate."
"Good," I said thoughtfully. "I hope she's nicer than that slob you lived with when I met you."
"Actually," she said, pausing, "it's not a she."
I raised an eyebrow. "Oh. Sorry. Uh...congratulations."
"Oh, stop it," she commanded. "He's a nice guy. His name is Alex. We've been seeing each other for a few weeks."
"Where'd you meet him?"
"At work," she said. "Same place you met yours."
I frowned. "I'm not dating anyone."
"Right..." she said, drawing out the word. "So, you were out by yourself last night?"
"No," I said defensively. "I'm not dating her. She's a friend from work."
"What's her name?"
I hesitated, and she smirked. "You see? That's how I know you're dating her. Because you're all nervous."
"Am not."
"I can read you like an open book, Michael Vaughn," she said gleefully. "Is she nice?"
"I'm not dating her," I repeated.
Alice shook her head. "Denial, denial. Anyway, I'm leaving this morning, so I wanted to thank you for your lovely hospitality."
"No problem," I mumbled.
She walked over and smacked a kiss on my cheek. "I'll see you, Mike."
"Yeah," I replied. "See you, Allie."
I sighed, walking into the living room and picking up the lighter on the table. I turned it over in my hands, and then put it back down on the table. I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a dishtowel out of a drawer, wrapping the bug securely in the fabric and stowing it in the back of one of the drawers in my dresser. Picking up the phone in the living room, I decided that I needed to make two calls: one to my mother to beg her to take the dog to the vet, and one to Weiss, to find out what the hell this lighter really was.
***
I was supposed to meet Sydney at her house at five-thirty, so I ran to the grocery store to buy some milk and talk with Weiss at three.
"What's going on?" he asked from across the aisle, peering into the shelves as if he expected something to suddenly appear.
"Alice left this morning; she found a place to live."
"That's good. It's about time she cut that umbilical cord." He picked up a package of Rice-a-Roni and scrutinized it. "That's not the only thing you called me about, is it?"
"No," I replied. "She found this on my floor before I left for Berlin. I'd almost forgotten it." I slid the fabric-swaddled blue lighter across the shelf to him.
He unwrapped the bundle and turned over the blue lighter, then wrapped it up again. "What is this?"
"A lighter," I replied.
"You started smoking again? Because I'm still on the wagon, you know..."
"You're mixing up addictions again," I said, smirking. "No, I'm not smoking again. She found this on my floor. It's not mine."
"I assume it's not hers," he guessed.
I nodded. "And my mother's the only other person who's been in my house lately besides you and Driscoll, so I have no idea where it came from."
"You think it's something?"
"The bug detector that Jack gave me didn't pick it up. I don't know what it is, but I thought it was worth checking out."
He turned it over in his hand, and then slipped it in his pants pocket. "I'll have tech look at it."
"Okay," I said, grabbing the gallon of milk I'd come for. "I'm going to dinner with Sydney at Sloane's tonight. She'll talk with you next."
"Have fun," he remarked flippantly.
I rolled my eyes. "Thanks."
***
She looked gorgeous, even though she was fidgeting nervously and she was only wearing one shoe. "Am I early?" I asked, looking down at her bare toes and silver toenails.
"No, I'm running really late," she said breathlessly. "Come in."
I peered into the room. "You sure?"
"Yeah," she said. "Don't worry, no one's here, no grilling sessions."
I nearly sighed in relief, but thought the better of it. "So..."
"I'm just going to apologize in advance," she said, puttering around the room, searching for something. "I might end up being a total basket case tonight."
"I don't think you're capable of basket-case behavior," I argued, purposely not bringing up the pier or her mother or a few other things. I sat down on the couch and sank down a little, which is the mark of an excellent couch, in my opinion.
She shook her head. "Well, you never know."
"What's wrong with you?"
She mumbled something in response, and I frowned. "What?"
"I said, I don't want to go," she replied softly. "And I feel like a complete ass for feeling that way."
"Syd--"
"She's my friend, Vaughn, and she's dying, and I'm so afraid of going to see her that I want to chicken out and stay home," she said quickly, sitting down in a chair and resting her head in her hands.
"Sydney, listen to me," I said, watching her intently. "You don't have to apologize for being scared of this."
"I'm not scared," she argued stubbornly. "I don't get scared. I'm not supposed to."
"You're allowed."
She looked up at me and sighed. "Just...fair warning."
"I think I can handle it," I replied, offering her a slow smile.
"I'd make a clever 'handler' joke here, but I can't think of one off the top of my head," she murmured, and I felt a huge grin spread across my face.
She stood and walked across the room, still limping slightly because of her shoe-less foot. "Check under the couch?" she requested, sitting down next to me, close enough that her arm brushed mine when I moved.
I nodded, reaching under the couch and sweeping my hand around the space. "Found it," I muttered when my fingers caught something small and strappy. I pulled the shoe out and dangled it in front of her.
She sighed in relief, grabbing the shoe and slipping it on. "We'd better go; we're going to be late." She reached for my hand and twined her fingers through mine. "Grab that bottle of wine on the table?"
She reached out and snagged the bottle as we walked past; I opened door for her, and we hurried out to my car. We barely spoke on the drive there; Sydney fidgeted nervously in her seat and held onto my free hand tightly. "There," she said, pointing at the house when we turned onto Sloane's street. "That one."
I pulled the car to a stop on the street in front of the house, and we got out of the car and hurried up the walk. I stood a little behind her as she rang the doorbell, looking around the house. This was strange; I was going to be eating dinner at the head of SD-6's house. I wondered what Haladki would have said about this....
"Sydney!" Sloane greeted us happily, opening the door wide to reveal a lavishly decorated room. "I'm so glad you two could make it. Hello, Michael." Taken aback by his use of my first name, I realized that he was addressing me, and I gave a small nod in recognition, handing him the bottle of wine. "This looks excellent, thank you."
"How's Emily?" Sydney asked softly, hanging close to me as we stepped into the house.
Sloane shrugged. "She's excited about dinner tonight. It made her whole face light up when I told her you were coming."
She smiled softly. "I'm glad. I've missed her."
"She's missed you too, but she understands that you're busy," he said, leading us into the dining room. Jack was standing off to one side of the table, talking in a low voice with Emily. She was a small woman with a drawn face and a scarf wrapped around her head. She smiled maternally when Sydney walked in the room.
"Sydney!" she exclaimed happily.
Sydney hurried around the table to give Emily a hug. "I'm sorry it's been so long," she murmured.
Emily shook her head slightly. "I know you're busy," she said quickly. "Are you going to introduce me to your friend?"
Sydney stood and walked the few feet back to me, looping her arm through mine. "Emily, this is Michael Vaughn. Michael, this is Emily."
I reached out to shake Emily's frail hand. "It's wonderful to meet you. Sydney's told me all about you."
Emily gave me a warm smile. "It's lovely to meet you, too. Arvin says you're the best new employee he's had in quite some time."
"Thank you," I said, a little surprised, and turned to Sloane, who nodded.
"Well," Jack said, jumping into the conversation a little mechanically, "shall we?"
We sat and ate, and the conversation mostly stemmed around a vacation that Sloane and Emily were planning to take in a week's time. Emily's attention didn't turn back to me until we were drinking an after-dinner glass of wine. "So, Michael," she began lightly, "how long have you been working in finance?"
"I started in banking right after grad school," I replied, sitting back in my chair, trying to ignore Jack's glances from across the table.
She nodded. "Arvin has mentioned that you're a lawyer," she said, taking a small sip of wine.
"Yeah," I said, leaning forward. "I went to law school, but I was always interested in international law and financing."
Sloane suddenly stood. "Emily, if you don't mind, I'd like to show Jack and Michael that new billiard table we bought last week."
Emily looked a little surprised, but she nodded. "Of course." She turned to Sydney and smiled. "Sydney and I need to catch up a little."
Sydney returned Emily's warm smile and stood. "Would you like to go out to the garden?"
"Actually, let's go into the living room. It's more comfortable," Emily suggested, struggling a little to stand. Sloane rushed over to help her, and I could see an uncertain, uncomfortable expression flicker on Sydney's face. I wanted to grasp her hand, give her a comforting hug, but I couldn't, not there.
"Sure," Sydney replied with false cheerfulness. "It's probably too cool outside, anyway."
"Come on, I'll show you that table," Sloane repeated, gesturing for us to follow him. I fell into step behind Jack, stealing a quick glance at Sydney, who was helping Emily to a nearby couch.
We walked through another heavily decorated room, back through Sloane's study, where I had the keen remembrance that there was a CIA bug planted somewhere in the room. We passed through a small hallway into a room with tall windows and a huge billiard table in the center of the floor.
Jack whistled. "You've outdone yourself. This is really something."
"Remember that table we played on at Langley?" Sloane asked, chuckling. I tried not to let my expression change, but instead focused my attention on the smooth maroon-colored top of the table. "That old green monstrosity?"
"The one where one of the corner pieces fell off when you sank one into the corner pocket?" Jack asked, a smile spreading across his face. "Seems like a million years ago."
"You play?" Sloane asked me, and I shrugged.
"In college, some," I replied. "I'm not great, but I'm not horrible, either." That was a lie, but I didn't want to draw extra attention to myself. I used to hustle in college for book money.
"Well, let's see," Sloane said, grabbing three cues from their rack on the wall and handing one each to me and to Jack. "Jack, you want to rack 'em?"
My mind raced with ways that I could throw the game; I prayed that they were both excellent players. "You want to break?" Sloane offered.
I declined. "Go ahead."
He did, sinking one ball in a side pocket. I squinted at the table, tallying up the numbers, trying to decide which ones would be mine. He missed the next ball, and Jack motioned for me to go ahead.
"I want to thank you," Sloane began languidly, leaning slightly on his cue, "for the work you've been doing for us. You've been going above and beyond, and it's not going unnoticed."
I gave him a wan smile, tapping the nine-ball into the three and sinking it neatly. One at a time.... "Thank you. I've enjoyed my time with SD-6 so far." Not a complete lie.
Sloane's carefully controlled expression gave way to a slight smirk. "I'm glad."
I missed the next shot on purpose. "Jack?"
Jack gave me an indecipherable look, then leaned over the edge of the table and expertly knocked two of his into one pocket, and then another, and then another. He missed the next shot, breaking the silence with a muttered, "Arvin, it's all yours."
Sloane nodded, and then turned his eyes back to me as he lined up his next shot. "You and Sydney are getting along well?"
I nodded slowly. "She's wonderful to work with. She really knows what she's doing."
"She's one of the biggest assets we have at SD-6," Sloane murmured, dropping the nine-ball into one of the center pockets.
"She's a good agent," I replied, suddenly wary of where this was going.
Jack glanced at Sloane and then me, saying, "I'm going to go grab that bottle of brandy I brought along."
"Good idea," Sloane enthused, and Jack nodded slightly before leaving the room.
I was alone in a room with the man who murdered Sydney's fiancé. Alone in a room with the man who had been a thorn in the CIA's side for years.... He was talking, and I was staring at the pool table. "Sorry?" I asked quickly when his voice signaled a question.
"I asked if the two of you were becoming close," he repeated.
"We're becoming friends," I said coolly.
"I don't know how much Sydney has told you about the organization," he said. "Your shot, by the way ... I consider Sydney as a daughter, and I've had to do some things in the past that no father would ever consider."
I bent carefully over the table and missed the shot, but not on purpose this time. The ball bounced off the edge of the pocket and rolled complacently along the side of the table. I frowned. "She's told me that she broke confidentiality rules a year and a half ago."
"She took a risk that she knew was not called for," Sloane mused. "It had to be dealt with it. I still feel guilty for my actions, but I had to look out for the good of the agency."
"The country comes first," I remarked, tasting the bitter irony of the words as they flowed out of my mouth.
"I want nothing more than to see Sydney happy," he said, smiling a smile that crinkled the edges of his eyes. "Your friendship seems to bring great happiness to her."
I didn't know what to say. "I hope so," I replied lamely.
"Just know that I think it's wonderful that you two are becoming such good friends," he said for a final time, and I nodded. Was he trying to set us up? If I'd had the time, I could have laughed at the strange about-face of the situation. I just nodded again.
Jack returned with the brandy none too soon. "Your shot, Jack," Sloane announced.
"Did I miss anything important?" he asked as he lined up his shot. His voice took on that tone that I still hadn't figured out. Was he kidding? Was he serious? Was he mocking me? It was unnerving.
"Just complimenting Mr. Vaughn again on his excellent work thus far," Sloane said, his eyes still crinkling.
"Be careful, Arvin," Jack said in a carefully measured tone. "You'll never get rid of him."
I was in over my head. I knew that for certain now.
***
"He's definitely trying to set us up," I said as we drove back to her place. "I think it's his sick way of ... I don't know, setting things right with you." I couldn't bring myself to say Danny's name. It was bad enough just thinking it.
She sighed, and I knew she was thinking the same thing. "I know, I know. Emily was insinuating things, too."
"We probably shouldn't," I observed quietly, sneaking a glance at her.
The streetlights traced strange designs on her face in the darkness. "No, no, we probably shouldn't."
"I mean, we're only supposed to have known each other for a little while...."
"And I don't do things like that. Usually." I pulled the car up to the curb and shifted into park.
"Neither do I. Not usually."
Awkward silence, and then she suddenly got out of the car and hurried up the walkway, wrapping her shawl tightly around her shoulders. Her bag was still on the floor on the passenger's side, and just as I got out of the car to give it to her, she stumbled and fell.
"God damn it," she said quietly, sprawled on the sidewalk, her shoulders shaking slightly. I hurried to her, watching as she tried to pull a heel from a crack in the sidewalk. "God damn it!"
"Here, here," I soothed, moving her hands away from her feet. I carefully pulled her foot from the shoe and wrapped my hands around her ankle. "You're okay."
She breathed out a heavy sigh and leaned against me. "Fucking shoe...."
I laughed, wrenching the shoe out of the sidewalk and handing it to her. "You know, of all people, I'd think you'd be the least likely to do this."
"I seem to be doing all sorts of unlikely things lately," she said, her voice slightly muffled against the fabric of my jacket.
"Come on, let me help you...." I helped her stand, but she grimaced when she tried to put weight on the ankle.
"This is typical," she muttered, leaning on me. She winced and drew in a sharp breath when she stepped forward.
"Oh, forget it," I sighed, turning and lifting her into my arms, supporting her with one arm around her back and the other under her knees.
She looked at me with surprise written all over her face, then wordlessly looped her arms around my neck and rested her chin on my shoulder. "Thank you," she said quietly. Her hair brushed against my cheek as we got to the door.
"You're welcome," I replied, shifting her slightly in my hold so that she could unlock the door. She pushed it open and we stepped inside, stumbling a little to the couch.
I set her down carefully and started to step back, thinking of getting some ice for her ankle. But she didn't release her arms from my neck; instead, she pulled me closer and brushed her lips against my jaw. I felt my heart start to race as I sat down beside her on the couch. She wrapped a hand around the back of my neck, and I moved my mouth to hers, her lips fitting naturally with mine.
The kiss was different from the one we'd shared in Germany. Our lips moved languidly; she bit lightly at my lower lip and opened her mouth to mine, deepening the kiss, intensifying it. I moved to wrap my arms around her, and she broke away just long enough to sit up and move closer. She made a small sound deep in her throat as our lips met again.
"We're not on a mission," I said softly as we broke apart. Her cheek rested against mine.
"No, we're not," she said softly.
"Are you sure about ... about this?"
"No," she replied, exhaling slowly. "I'm not sure about anything."
She turned her face back to mine, and our mouths met in a slow kiss that deepened quickly. Our tongues tangled, and her hands smoothed down the front of my shirt. Her fingers toyed with the lapels of my jacket.
Just as I grew confident enough to lean forward, pressing her back against the pillows of the couch, a door slammed, and a quick "Oh!" echoed across the room. We broke apart rapidly.
Francie scurried by, a hand shielding her eyes. "Sorry ... sorry ... not here...."
Sydney shook her head, sighing and giving me a weak smile. I nodded, standing and readjusting my suit jacket. "I'd better...."
"Yeah, yeah," she agreed, touching her flushed cheeks lightly. "I'll see you at work tomorrow morning."
"Right. Hey, get some ice for your ankle."
She nodded. "I will. Thanks for going with me."
"No problem." I headed toward the door, and she twisted on the couch to smile at me. "Good night."
"Night, Vaughn."
I shut the door and drove home with a stupid grin on my face.