Chapter 9 - Options Reconsidered

Sydney moaned groggily and rolled over to glance at her alarm clock. The time shocked her, and she sat up straight in bed, thoughts still tangled.

1:05? What the? Alarm? Shit. Work. And then she remembered. There was no work. Which turned her thoughts to just how she had ended up bed in the first place. 

"Hey, sleepyhead," Francie said, peering in from the doorway. Noting Sydney's confusion, she added, "Mr. Handsome carried you in, and we are so going to have to discuss that later. I took care of the pajamas."

Mr. Handsome? Will? No. Vaughn. Had to be Vaughn. Cover story? Damn it. "Thanks. How long have I been asleep?"

"Somewhere around 15 hours. I came back to check on you at lunch and you were still dead to the world," Francie said. "I was starting to get worried. Come on, I'll make you some coffee."

Sydney swung her legs out of bed and stood up to follow Francie. The coffee machine was already gurgling by the time she stumbled into to the kitchen, blinking her eyes. She grabbed a box of cereal from the cabinet and poured herself a liberal bowl.

"You sure you don't want to just skip straight to dinner?" Francie teased, turning to look at Sydney, who shook her head quickly and returned to devouring the cereal. "Okay, I'll take that as a no." She set a cup of coffee down in front of Sydney and leaned back against the counter top, crossing her arms.

"So?"

"So what?" Sydney asked, spoon poised in mid-air.

"So this insanely gorgeous guy shows up on our doorstep last night and says he's been working with you for years, that's what," Francie said. "Come on, you've got to spill. Have you two been having some kind of clandestine romance? Or is he a total asshole? He seemed really nice last night. Even stood up to Will's grilling pretty well."

Sydney mentally chastised herself. That was not something I wanted him to have to do solo. Especially since now I don't know what he said. "Oh, no," she said, suddenly feeling like she was defending one part of her life against the other. "Vaughn's great. He's beyond great."

"What did you just call Michael?"

Shit. What last name did he give them? So much for no more lying. Sydney put a confused look on her face. "Huh?" she asked, and took a defensive mouthful of cereal.

"You called him by his last name."

Oh, okay. Sydney finished chewing. "Yeah. That's what everyone..." Everyone where? "....everyone calls him that."

"Is that some kind of IRS thing?" Francie asked, giggling before she forced her expression back to serious. Did she just say IRS? "Sorry, Syd. I shouldn't make fun of his job. He seems nice, and it's obvious he cares a lot about you. Plus he's really hot." Did she just say hot?

"So, seriously. Are you two going out? Because if so I'm going to let you take on the task of telling Will."

"No," Sydney said, smiling softly. "We couldn't, because we worked together. It would've complicated...the investigation."

"But what about now?"

Now? "I don't know," Sydney said. "After we first met, I would have said definitely yes. But we've kind of pushed it out of the way for so long I'm just not sure there's any..."

"...spark?" Francie suggested.

"Yeah," Sydney said. "Any spark left."

"You know what I think?" Francie asked. "I think I've seen you go a very long time without dating anyone. At first I thought it was because....of Danny. But then a year passed, and two years passed, and it was like you wouldn't even look at a guy. I could never figure out why," she said. "But now I know."

A sad smile spread across Sydney's face. "It's just...in our case things are really complicated."

"Love is supposed to be complicated, Syd," Francie said. She glanced at her watch. "And I really need to get back to work. You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah. I think so."

"Okay," Francie said. She gestured toward the blinking light on their answering machine. "I think that's for you."

Sydney waited until Francie left to pour herself another bowl of cereal and hit the play button.

A familiar voice stumbled through the first message. "Hey, uh, Sydney. It's me. Oh, sorry. I — it's Vaughn. Anyway, I'm not sure if you're still asleep, or if you're out, but I, um, just wanted to see how you were doing," and then as if Vaughn had decided the message was a lost cause and he might as well try to draw a laugh out of her, "Damn it. Joey's Pizza?"

Laughing, Sydney picked up the phone, then realized she didn't know his office number. She tried his cell.

"Hey, Syd," he said, sounding relieved. "Can you hang on just a second?"

"Sure." She tapped her fingers on the counter top, turning Francie's comments over in her head.

"Okay. Sorry. How are you feeling?"

"Better. I've been awake for..." She checked her watch. "Twenty-three minutes. You should have woke me up, Vaughn. I didn't mean to have you suffer through the Will Tippen third degree."

"You looked so — I don't know — at peace.  I couldn't bring myself to do it."

"It was the first time I've fallen asleep not worrying about anything in a long time," she confessed, then stumbled ahead. "So...are you doing anything tonight?"

"Actually, yes," Vaughn said. "I promised someone I'd take her to a hockey game. Seven o'clock. Kings-Sharks. That is, if you're free."

"I'm so free it's absurd."

He pictured her grinning broadly. "Say I pick you up at six?"

"Sure."

"All right. See you then," he said. "By the way, I took a job with the IRS."

"Francie told me," she said. Will. Damn it. "Will is going to call them asking a million questions, if he hasn't already."

"He did. It's been taken care of," Vaughn said. She heard him talking to someone in the background. "Hey, Syd. I've got to go, but one more thing. I ran into your father on my way out to the car last night. He wanted me to tell you he's proud of you."

"Thanks," she said, letting that knowledge ripple pleasantly through her mind.

Six o'clock, Sydney thought after she hung up, gives me enough time to take a bath and get some more work done on my paper. She was headed toward the bathroom when someone knocked on her front door, prompting panic. Dashing to the sink, she poured a handful of water and used it to swish her mouth out, then tugged her fingers frantically through her hair.

That done, she sprinted to the front door and yanked it open. "Dad?" Suddenly, she was glad Francie had gone with the flannel pajamas. He was, as always, impeccably suited.

"I just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing," he said.

"Good," she said, glancing down at her attire. "Actually, I just woke up."

"So I gathered," he commented dryly.

"I talked to Vaughn," she said. "He passed along your message. Thank you."

He blinked, and gave her the pause that usually meant bad news. "Sydney, the CIA offered me a job at Langley. Assistant Deputy Director of Operations."

Langley? As in Langley, Virginia? "Congratulations," she said, her voice a little too emphatic. "That's a great opportunity for you."

"I told them to find me something closer to home." Sydney's face registered shock, and Jack looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Look, I know I wasn't there most of the time when you needed a father. But that doesn't mean I didn't want to be."

Her eyes filled with tears and she reached out to embrace him. "I understand now, Dad. I didn't always, but I understand."

They pulled apart and she wiped an errant tear from her cheek, surprised to find that his eyes seemed a little glassier. "Would you like to come in, have a cup of coffee?"

He looked at her. "Not now, but why don't we have dinner later this week?" She nodded. "I'll let you get changed. I assume you're doing something with Agent Vaughn tonight?"

"Yeah." She smiled, blushing slightly. "How did you know?"

"Sydney, I've been in the spy trade for more than 30 years. Give me some credit."