- Title: Surmising Alliances
- Author: A. Jinnie McManus
- Email: [email protected]
- Rating: PG
- Spoilers/Timeline: Future fic. Fits with all aired Alias episodes.
- Summary: On the morning of his wedding, Vaughn relives the past and an observer offers him a future. S/V.
- Disclaimer: Not mine. Some quotes are directly from various episodes. No infringement is intended.
- 'Ship: S/V
– Archiving: Ask first.
Author's Note: The chapters for this story may seem short, but that is because the story is told in varying points of view. In consolation, I can say that the story is completely finished, so feel free to read it knowing that you'll soon eventually see the certain blessed event alluded to in the prologue. How's posting every other day sound?
It wasn't supposed to be like this.
He kneels by the grave with utter grace, his eyes not leaving the name engraved on the stone. Almost thirty years later and a part of him still refuses to believe that it's real.
William C. Vaughn
He bows his head. Despite his grief, his eyes are closed, his every emotion carefully controlled.
In this business, who knows who could be watching?
He takes a deep breath. She doesn't know he's here. He goes for a run every morning, she would have no reason to think differently today. But if he takes much longer, she will doubtlessly go after him and he doesn't want her to see him like this.
He reaches out a hand, tracing the elegant letters.
"Dad," he begins, "I'm getting married today."
It is, beyond a doubt, the perfect day for a wedding. Sunlight bathes Los Angeles in a bright, golden tint that seems to enhance every feeling of joy. Birds sing in the trees and squirrels chase each other through the local cemetery where Michael Vaughn kneels, unaware of anything but the stone in front of him.
Jack Bristow stands quietly behind him, close enough to watch his back, but back far enough that the young agent won't register his presence. His hands are jammed in his pockets. He is a stoic man, a man rarely out of control with his surroundings, but he has already shed more than one tear this morning.
It's not everyday one's only daughter pledges herself to her true love.
She knew he would come here, even though he had tried his best to keep such a sorrowing thought out of today's events. It was like him to do that, Jack surmised. His future son-in-law may have fallen prey to the arrogance that all young spies wear as a cloak, but he had one exception.
Sydney.
From the day they met, if she had wished it, he would have jumped off a cliff for her. Jack may have checked him for his recklessness many a time, but they had always had a mutual respect for each other. Because of her. Because if it was necessary, each would surrender their own life that she could live.
And that had almost happened, more than anyone cared to count. He closes his eyes wearily. Five long years. Five long years for the CIA to finish mopping up both SD-6 and Sloane's plotting. Five long years for Sydney and Vaughn to fight past every hurdle life threw at them to keep them apart.
Five long years for Michael Vaughn to ask him to dinner with the question every father both longs and dreads to hear.
Sir, I'd like to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage…
In his pockets, his hands clench into fists. He prides himself on his ability to control his emotions. It has kept him alive. But when it comes to his daughter and his future son-in-law, his ability all but disappears. It is both delightful and utterly terrifying.
By the grave, Vaughn is telling his father about his daughter, about the first time they met. Jack chuckles, having already demanded to see the surveillance video of that particular day years and years ago.
I'm not trying to play you.
"Not the best pickup line in the world," Vaughn confides to his father, apparently also remembering that particular line well. "But considering my job title, I guess it wasn't too horrible."