Enfin

Chapter Four

Vaughn's POV

"Sydney?"

I thought I'd been surprised when I was granted agent status. That was nothing. And here I thought I'd never see her again. Funny how life works out.

A part of me, though, wasn't surprised at all. Hadn't I been skeptical myself when she told me she was a banker? The last thing I would imagine Sydney Bristow doing is sitting in a cubicle doing figures for someone else.

Sydney narrowed her eyes at me. What? I thought. She's the one who lied to me. She never asked what I did for a living. True, I would have had to lie if she had, but that's beside the point. If anyone should be mad, it's me.

Kendall looked at us oddly.

"I take it you two have met already." We didn't answer. There was no way I was going to be the first to look away. "Well," He continued, "I have a meeting to get to, so I'll leave you two to get to know each other a bit more. I want to see you both here tomorrow, too. We've got a case for you already. Be in the conference room at seven. Sharp."

He stood and left. The second the door closed behind him, Sydney was on her feet.

"What are you doing here?" She asked quickly, though her expression looked softer than it had a few moments ago.

"I could ask you the same." I said. "How did you end up working for the CIA?"

"They approached me a few years ago, I've been working as a linguist and an analyst since then."

"How long have you been an agent?" I asked. Sydney looked down at her watch.

"About three minutes." We both smiled.

"Me too. What a coincidence."

Sydney's POV

I got home around noon. About fifteen minutes after he left, Kendall reappeared. Apparently his meeting was very brief. Vaughn and I both must have signed about thirty non-disclosure agreements before we were outfitted with an assortment of bug killers, emergency weapons, and security alarms for our home. All this from the guy at the ops tech center.

"Well, uh, since you're new agents- well, kind of- I mean, you've worked here for, you know, but you technically weren't, well, agents. You sat at a desk. But then you knew that." Vaughn and I both raised our eyebrows. "Oh, right. Um, you'll be needing some anti-espionage gadgets, so I put together some little goodie bags for you." He stopped mid hand gesture. "You know, like when you go to a party when you were a kid- well I didn't get invited to many of those, because well, I was a little-" He made a tweaking gesture. "when I was a kid. I still am, actually, you know with the social events. Oh! For example, last year we had this work party-"

"Marshall!" Vaughn and I both cut him off. He smiled apologetically, and 'zippered' his mouth closed, turning around to take a small bag in each hand. Vaughn and I each took one.

"Thank you, Marshall." We said, turning to leave for the day.

"Mmmf Hmmphhum!" He called after us. I'm going to assume that means 'You're Welcome.' in I've-zippered-my-mouth-closed-ish. I hope he didn't throw away the key.

I was setting an anti-listening device in my bedroom when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" I heard Francie yell. I listened as I tucked a gun into one of the sweaters in my bottom drawer. It was a fairly ugly sweater, a present from my father, so it was certain no one would find the gun there. It felt weird, though, to have a gun.

"Syd! Your dad's here!" Francie called from downstairs. Speak of the devil. What the hell was my dad doing in LA? Or at my house? Last time I checked, he was selling airplane parts. Or something. We don't talk much. It shows.

"I'll be right down." I shut the drawer. With a sigh I started downstairs. From the stairwell I could see my father, standing stiffly at the door as Francie attempted to make conversation. I had barely gotten past the first step when he spotted me, completely ignoring Francie.

"Sydney." He said. "I was hoping we could talk." He looked pointedly at Francie, then added as an afterthought. "Privately. A walk, perhaps."

Somehow I got the impression that this wasn't a social visit. What a surprise. Well, if I'm wrong and by some miracle it is a social visit, he's doing a very bad job of it.

"Of course." I said, giving Francie an apologetic glance. She rolled her eyes behind my fathers back, getting me to smile a little.

The door was barely closed behind us when he started to speak.

"Sydney, I need to talk to you. And you need to listen to me. But not here."

"Dad, what's going on?" I stopped on the stair.

"You can be stubborn later. Now come on." His eyes flashed. I'd forgotten how scary he could be at times.

About a block away, he stopped at a park.

"Sydney, I know you're CIA." He said bluntly. Surprised though I was, I kept a straight face. This is what I'm trained to do. How my father found out I'll never know. Unless this is a test…

"Dad, I'm a banker. What are you talking about?" I lied. No response. After a minute he pulled something out of his coat pocket. He flipped it open.

It was a CIA identification card.

Hey guys, I know this chapter ends a little weirdly, but I wanted to update today so badly!

Please Review!

Oh and question: Should Irina be in this fic? I'm thinking she should but I don't know. Haha poor Sydney everything's different now!