He had decided one thing when his former best friend said that sentence. He wasn't going to say anything more than the question required, but he wasn't going to lie either. It would be rather pointless to lie for hours. Just refusing to answer anything would go over a lot better.

Weiss looked at the paper in his hands after sitting across the table and then back at the convict. "Please state your name for the record."

Vaughn was silent for a moment. "You might want to turn the record on."

To say that Weiss was a little embarrassed would've been a huge understatement. He was just thankful that the cameras didn't have sound and no one else was around.

"Now, please state your name." He repeated after turning the recorder on.

"Did they put you up to this?" Vaughn asked, ignoring the question.

Deciding to just roll with it, and see where it led them, Weiss shook his head. "I volunteered."

Vaughn raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You hate the interrogations." He seemed to remember more than one time that he had covered for the other man when it came to interrogating the latest convict.

"I know," Weiss said. "But this was one that I had to do."

Vaughn snorted softly. "I'm sure."

Weiss didn't respond to that. "Please state your name for the record," He repeated.

Vaughn did as he was told this time. "Michael Vaughn."

Weiss studied the papers in his hands for a moment. Twenty fourth time sighing now.

"You could start with asking me where I've been," The convict suggested after a moment. He shrugged, "Or not."

Weiss almost laughed. Here he was getting advice on how to interrogate a criminal by the criminal. "Do you have any idea of what your leaving did to Sydney?"

Vaughn frowned a little. "That's not on your little paper, is it?" He asked. "Because that's really none of Uncle Sam's business."

"This is for me," the other replied.

The latter shrugged. "I have an idea."

"Don't get cocky with me," Weiss warned. "That's not you."

"I could've changed," Vaughn pointed out.

"Or we never actually knew you."

"That too." Vaughn admitted softly. In the silence that followed, he reached up and scratched the side of his cheek. This wasn't going as he expected it to.

Weiss kept his eyes trained on the papers in front of him. This was turning out to be harder than he thought it would. "You have forty seven counts of treason for crimes against the United States of America."

"That many," Vaughn said conversationally. "I thought turning traitor only earned me ten."

Weiss stopped. He shuffled around in his papers and pulled out one. He handed it to Vaughn, who reached as far as his handcuffs would allow.

Vaughn skimmed the paper quickly. "This is my passport." He commented.

Weiss nodded. "It was found among your things." He started. "Analysis ran a check on it, thus the other counts of treason."

"Hm," was all that the convict had to say in response as he put the paper back down on the table.

"Which makes me wonder what you've been up to for the past six years," Weiss continued. He leaned back in his chair as he said this. He had the sneaky suspicion this would take a while. Not the explaining portion but getting his friend to talk part.

As he predicted, Vaughn didn't say anything for a very long time. The only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock, steadily counted away the seconds. When he finally did speak, it wasn't what he expected either, "I reserve my fifth amendment rights."

"What?"

"I'm sure the record got that just fine," Vaughn said placidly.

"Why would you plead the fifth?"

Another silence. Despite his silent promise, he wasn't going to answer this question. Undoubtedly, word of it would make its way back to Sydney, and eventually Cory. And this was one thing they both could stand to live without. "Do I need to remind you of what the Fifth Amendment states?"

"No," Weiss retorted. He decided not to press the issue anymore. It was clear that Vaughn wasn't going to say anything on the matter right now. "Did you work as an agent of Irina Derevko?"

The reaction was immediate. The convict's face closed over, his eyed hardened, his mouth formed a thin line, and he gave off the very aura of anger. "I don't see how that question is relevant."

"Does it have to be relevant?"

"It has to be based on something reasonable, which this particular one is not," Vaughn defended.

"Are you going to answer the question or not?"

"No."

Weiss sighed for the twenty fifth time and shuffled his papers around. "Do you know this woman?" He asked, holding up a photograph.

Another one of the now familiar silences filled the air. Finally Vaughn sighed, rubbing his cheek –not the one he had itched earlier- warily. "She's my half sister." He admitted.

"And her name?"

He had the feeling that Weiss already knew her name, but he answered anyway, "Alexandria."

"And her last name?"

Vaughn shrugged. "She gave me a fake one and she hasn't told me a real one yet."

"And that never stuck you as odd?"

Of course he found it odd that she wouldn't give him a last name, but he never questioned it. She was deeper into things than he ever was, and he could understand her need for a false name. "Not really."

"Care to explain your reasoning?"

All Vaughn had to do was give his friend a pointed look for Weiss to move onto another question. "Have you ever visited the United States of America in the past six years since your disappearance?"

"Define 'visit'."

"Stepped onto American soil."

This time, Vaughn didn't hesitate. "Once," He replied. "About two months ago, until about a week ago, give or take a few days."

Weiss seemed surprised. "How did you get past customs?"

"I learned more than how to shoot at a gun at the Farm," Vaughn said. "That, and your customs officials aren't doing their job properly."

"I'll have that looked into," Weiss muttered, shaking his head a little.

"Why did you never try to contact your family?"

Vaughn sent him another hard look.

"That falls under the fifth too, I'm assuming?"

He nodded.

"Alright, why'd you leave?"

Vaughn blinked slowly. "That is also none of the government's business."

Weiss did something the other wasn't expecting. He leaned forward and turned off the recorder. "This is just between you and me," He said. "Why'd you do it?"

He couldn't even provide himself a reason that helped him sleep at night. How was he supposed to give one to someone else? He sighed, rubbing his cheek idly. After a moment, he merely shrugged. "You can turn that back on; I'm not going to say anything."

To say that Weiss was disappointed that his former friend couldn't provide him with a single reason as to his abandonment would have been an understatement. He shook his head and pulled his paper towards him again. "We…" He stopped. "We have a plea bargain ready for you. I'm sure you know how those work."

Did he know how those work? He admitted to doing something he may or may not have done for a lesser sentence. Basically just saving the courts the trouble of proving all of his crimes. Vaughn took the paper offered to him and skimmed it.

He only read about half of it before tossing it back onto the table. "I'm not agreeing to that."

The years in prison he could deal with. In fact, he'd been expecting ever since he was arrested in that zoo in Stockholm. The government liked to put people in prison for their crimes. Unless of course, you signed their plea bargain. And he wouldn't have had problem with that either, if his own plea bargain hadn't offered ten years, no probation, no visits. That he would not agree to.

Weiss sighed with obvious annoyance. "And why not?" He asked, more out of a duty to his country than his own curiosity.

Vaughn was tempted not to give him a reason. He could say that he claimed his Fifth Amendment rights and really stick it to those bastards that thought up this plea bargain. Or he could be complying and give his interrogator a break.

He leaned forward, placing his hands on the table in between them. "Three days ago, I met my daughter for the first time." He paused, staring at his hands. "You don't know what it's like to meet your child for the first time. It's… indescribable. I could sit here for the rest of the day and still not be able to thing of anything to say about it." He stopped again.

"I'll pay my debt to society; I'm not trying to get out of that. But… I'm not giving up the next ten years of my daughter's life."

"You know that if we take this to trial, you could get life," Weiss said, a tone of regret in his voice.

"Then I guess that's a risk I'm willing to take." Vaughn replied simply.

"What does Sydney have to say about any of this?"

"I don't know. You could ask her when she returns from Stockholm."

"Her plane landed an hour ago," Weiss informed him. "She and Jack took Cory to the hospital."

Vaughn started in his chair. The hospital? What for? That thing on her arm? It couldn't have been that serious… he hoped. "Have you talked to her?"

Weiss shook his head sadly. "No. Jack called and that was all he said. I could call him and find out…" He left the sentence hanging on purpose.

There wasn't any hesitation in Vaughn's voice when he answered, "Call him."

-break-

"You need to eat."

Sydney glared at him through the covers she lay sandwiched between. "You're not my dad." She countered immaturely.

"I should hope not," Vaughn muttered with a roll of his eyes. "I'd probably have to take that nine millimeter to myself."

With another glare, Sydney smacked him as best she could through two layers of blankets and very little strength. "You always try to be funny at the wrong times."

Vaughn laughed, shaking his head ruefully. "You still need to eat."

"You need to go to work," She pointed out.

"Yes, and you need to keep up your strength."

"Perhaps," She shrugged. "You need to keep bringing home the bread."

"I thought I brought home the meat."

She shook her head, making a pitiful reach for her water. He took mercy on her and handed her the glass. "Nope. I do. You're on bread duty," She responded before taking a small sip of her water and then coughing immediately after when the icy liquid touched her raw throat.

"We'll discuss this after you eat."

"God, you're annoying," She muttered, handing the glass to him.

He took it and set it down on the table next to their bed. Immediately after he inched the soup bowl towards her a little more. "C'mon… it's chicken and rice. You're favorite."

She eyed the soup bowl with no small amount of hesitation. "What if I said that I wasn't hungry?"

"Then I'd call you a liar," He replied simply. "And then tell you that I did not get this soup out of a can."

"You didn't?" She asked, sounding mildly interested now.

"No," He affirmed. "I made it with my superior cooking skills, which means you are going to eat it."

"Don't you have to go to work?" She asked, still avoiding the issue of having to eat.

"When I called you in sick, your dad suggested that I stay home with you."

Her mouth dropped. "You're kidding."

"'Fraid not," He said grimly. "But I wasn't going to question it. When else would I get the entire day to pester you?"

She gave him a glare and held out her hand for the bowl of soup. "Good girl," He murmured, handing it to her while he reached behind him for the bed tray. After putting it over her lap, he took the bowl back and placed it on the tray. "I even crushed up some crackers for you already," He added, setting those down to her bowl.

"I feel like I'm twelve and my nanny's here again," She grumbled, inwardly pleased that he was being this thoughtful. Nobody, not even the nanny, had done this much for her when she was sick. She was so glad that she married him.

"Do you want me to read you a bedtime story?" He snickered.

She gave him a weak punch to the arm. "Just keep talking wise guy. I've been wanting to cough on you all day."

"I wouldn't care."

"Oh yes you would. You'd get sick."

He shrugged. "And then I'd have to you to stay at home and cater to my every whim and annoy me."

Sydney couldn't help but smile softly at him. "I'd kiss you for that if I wasn't sick."

"That isn't going to stop me," Vaughn responded, closing the distance between them and giving her a quick but sweet kiss. "Now eat your soup. I saved the best part for last."

"And what would that be?"

"A very large tub of coffee ice cream. Recommended for spies with bad colds that makes their throat very sore."

"That was mighty specific of you," She teased.

"Hey, keep teasing me and you won't get any."

"You don't even like coffee ice cream."

"I'll give it to Weiss."

She mock gasped. "You wouldn't."

"I will if you don't eat that soup."

"Alright already," Sydney said exasperated as she picked up her fork. "But I demand that we watch a chick flick while eating that ice cream."

"I'll consider it," Vaughn answered.

-break-

Sydney had never developed a liking for hospitals. It all started when she four. She had broken her leg out in the middle of the woods and it had been at least three hours before she got a doctor. And to be it simply, the doctor wasn't too sympathetic towards a sobbing four year old.

From then on out, she tried to avoid the doctor's office and hospitals like the plague. Sure, she went in for her required biannual check up, and if anything else arose, like a mysterious illness, or a breakage of a bone. But if it was something simple, like a cold, then she'd suffer.

Now she sat in a hospital room, just having finally got her daughter to go to sleep after four hours of nothing but a near panic attack. The doctors weren't saying anything about what was wrong with the girl, and truthfully, Sydney hadn't expected them to.

But Cory on the other hand, didn't have the same discipline as her mother. She had been patient for as long as a six year old could, then she started to whine. The bed was uncomfortable. She wanted to go home. The room had a funny smell. She wanted her teddy bear. The hospital blankets were too thin and she was cold.

Sydney fluffed pillows, and made the bed as comfortable as she could. She patiently said that in the morning, if the doctor said it was alright, they could go home. There wasn't much she could do about the smell. She had called her dad and asked him to stop by the house and bring her teddy bear. And right now, Cory slept under a pile of five blankets.

Now all she had to do was wait for the doctors to come back with their tests results and tell her what the hell was wrong with her daughter. She didn't expect that until at least morning.

There was a small cot by the window for her to sleep on if she ever got tired and wanted to go to bed. Honestly, she couldn't see herself sleeping at all tonight. The events of the day before and then today with the constant tests, and Cory's very obvious fear, all had her wired and sleep was just not an option.

As much as she needed to, she didn't want to think about where Vaughn was. He was safe in the custody of the government and that was all she needed to know. She didn't need any details about his interrogation –if that had even taken place yet- and she definitely didn't need to see him right now.

Right now, all that mattered was making sure that Cory was okay.

She didn't want to talk to Francie either. It wasn't anything against her friend, it was just that a friend wasn't someone she needed right now. After stretching her arms above her head, she reached for her cell phone. She was just dialing her father's number when the man walked into the hospital room.

A bit confused, she put the phone down and slowly got out of her chair. "Did you bring…" She stopped herself when her dad held up the teddy bear. "Thanks. Um, she's sleeping right now but I'll tell her that you stopped by.

"I think I want to be alone right now, Dad," She added in a soft voice. "… I need some time to think, you know."

"I understand," Jack responded, giving her a one armed hug. He cast a glance towards his sleeping granddaughter and then left the hospital room.

Sydney sighed to herself. Yeah, just because she needed the time to think, didn't mean that she wanted to. She placed the teddy bear on the foot of the bed on her way back to the chair she had been sitting in before.

With a small sigh, she leaned forward, resting her elbows against her thighs. She briefly envied the sleeping state that her daughter currently resided in. This was part of the reason that made being an adult hard. You couldn't sleep randomly without consequences.

Sydney was only aware that she had started to doze off when she felt someone shaking her shoulder. She jumped, almost hitting the person that was shaking her.

"Mrs. Vaughn?" The nurse whispered, not even fazed that she was almost head butted. "The doctor would like to see you in the hall."

Sydney frowned. "Why?"

"He has a diagnosis for your daughter." The nurse replied simply.

SSB's note: Yeah, I know, it's been a while. Life's been hectic and all those excuses. I'm updating, slowly but surely.

More about my excuses on my livejournal. Found in the homepage link in my profile.

Thanks for all the support and have a great Turkey Day for the next... three hours or so if you live in the U.S. If not, then Happy Thursday.