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Chapter Two "There is no such thing as perfect people. Only perfect intentions." Irina's Cabin Long Si Mountains "Thank you." Irina pressed the end call button and looked none too optimistically to her sister. "Well?" "The CIA has the worm, they cut the feed," she reported, "but the worm's been tampered with." "They haven't found the mole?" Irina shook her head, "The data is being reconstructed now, if all goes well, the CIA will get to Viadro first, if not…" "He's not equipped to handle an interrogation…" The two women digested the situation thoughtfully. "Regardless, in a matter of hours everyone will know that the passenger is no biological weapon." Ilena contemplated what that would mean for all, "There's no time…" she whispered. Irina contemplated helplessly. There was no time to get to Viadro. They had agreed upon a comm. silence for many years so that no ties could be made and Nadia's location compromised. The only way was to go through Alexi, but he was in transit, there was no way of getting to him, not without blowing their cover with Jack. If the covenant were to get to Nadia first, she would lose one daughter…and eventually the other. Even if the CIA got to her first, there was no telling what would happen. The prophecy was fast coming to past, and it seemed like they were shooting bullets at the darkness, just hoping to hit something that would make a difference. Irina's distress was clear for her to see. Ilena felt sorry for her, but she knew there was work to be done, "I'd best inform Katya of the situation." The other nodded and she walked a few paces away to give her some space while she put in the call. Irina turned and looked out the window once more at the winds that were blowing against the trees, causing the leaves to fall haphazardly, littering the sky. She felt helpless to save her daughters.

The Things We Do - Chapter 2

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Page 1: The Things We Do - Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"There is no such thing as perfect people. Only perfect intentions."

Irina's Cabin

Long Si Mountains

                "Thank you." Irina pressed the end call button and looked none too optimistically to her sister.

                "Well?"

                "The CIA has the worm, they cut the feed," she reported, "but the worm's been tampered with."

                "They haven't found the mole?"

                Irina shook her head, "The data is being reconstructed now, if all goes well, the CIA will get to Viadro first, if not…"

                "He's not equipped to handle an interrogation…"

                The two women digested the situation thoughtfully.

                "Regardless, in a matter of hours everyone will know that the passenger is no biological weapon." Ilena contemplated what that would mean for all, "There's no time…" she whispered.

                Irina contemplated helplessly. There was no time to get to Viadro. They had agreed upon a comm. silence for many years so that no ties could be made and Nadia's location compromised. The only way was to go through Alexi, but he was in transit, there was no way of getting to him, not without blowing their cover with Jack. If the covenant were to get to Nadia first, she would lose one daughter…and eventually the other. Even if the CIA got to her first, there was no telling what would happen. The prophecy was fast coming to past, and it seemed like they were shooting bullets at the darkness, just hoping to hit something that would make a difference. Irina's distress was clear for her to see.

                Ilena felt sorry for her, but she knew there was work to be done, "I'd best inform Katya of the situation."

The other nodded and she walked a few paces away to give her some space while she put in the call. Irina turned and looked out the window once more at the winds that were blowing against the trees, causing the leaves to fall haphazardly, littering the sky.

She felt helpless to save her daughters.

Car to the airport

Highway 47

                "Did you tell him to come to me?" Vaughn broke the silence.

"Wh-…" Sydney was incredulous for half a second then realized she knew what he was talking about. And she sighed, "Are you talking about my da…"

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"Did you tell him to come to me?" Vaughn raised his voice. As he did he swerved to avoid a passing car, Sydney grabbed hold of the top handle just in time, and she glared at him.

"Shi…" Vaughn blinked, "I'm sorry."

Syd would have ticked him off, but he was sorry enough she thought, so she let it go. He seldom got angry…he would keep it all inside and once it a while, in his own words, he would go insane.

"I didn't…" he tried to explain, "when your dad came to me, it just…argh. I just…"

"Vaughn," she reached out and touched his right arm that was on the steering wheel. That was enough to throw them both off into awkward silence. She withdrew.

"Vaughn…"

He glanced back at her.

"I didn't ask him to…but I knew he was going to…" she watched him press his lips together, and continued, "…and its not that I'm upset about what happened- I mean I am, but that's not why I…"

She looked at him for a response, hoping he could understand what she didn't know how to articulate. He understood, but he didn't know what to say.

"I need you to trust me…this not about me being jealous."

I never meant to hurt you.

Vaughn pondered her words.

Sydney folded her arms and looked away disappointedly. Maybe too much had changed in two years. She watched as the rain fell against the glass, and somehow, it brought back memories of not long ago.

"What happened between us, the way it is, it isn't anybody's fault, Sydney. And even though everything's changed, some things don't."

"But some things do." Syd whispered inaudibly to herself, as a tear fell; she swiped it away quickly.

"I do…" Vaughn's eventually spoke, "I do trust you."

I never meant to hurt you.

She could only look at him sadly as he watched the road, unable to look her in the eye. They rode a way more in silence, till he spoke again.

"Sydney…do you know what this is doing to me?"

The car turned off the main road into a gas station, he switched of the ignition. She waited for him to continue. He heaved a sigh, and pushed back his hair frustrated. Finally he continued.

"Everything your dad said-" he began, "I feel like I'm going insane with paranoia. I got Wiess to tap her phone today for Chr…" he stopped himself from swearing, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead on a balled fist.

"Vaughn," she bade him to continue, "…Vaugh-"

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"You know what scares me?" he interrupted her, looking into her eyes.

She looked at him, "What?"

"I half hope its true."

The Docks

Los Angeles

                Jack let his eyes roam the sea line, pondering his conversation with Sloane. He hated the man, at the same time he wondered how a friendship so strong had so easily turned to hate…then again as he meditated on how long he had lived this life he realized that it had nothing to do with an overnight change. He had gone from disbelief, to hurt, to anger, to hate. Much like Irina, he mused. Yet at the same time, there was a small spark of self-doubt at the back of his mind which he was quick to snuff out. His gloved hands were in his trench coat pockets; he closed his eyes as the sea breeze whipped through his hair, taking in the saltiness of the harbor air, though it was tinted with the smell of oil.

The sound of a blow horn rang through his ears, and he opened his eyes to see the approaching vessel. He took his hand out, pushing his sleeves back he observed the time. Late. He stood at his place as the boat pulled up and its crew hopped down to tie down their ride. Almost immediately after, a young man in casual fittings immerged from below deck; jeans and yellow-brown boots, a grey-ish jacket; his wavy dark hair was hidden under a beanie. Jack noticed that he looked older than he last saw him, and he'd definitely put on a bit more muscle. The lad jumped off without any help, and Jack tried not to smile as he approached.

"You're late," Jack remarked with mock-disdain.

The young man dropped his sack down, his hand still on its sling; it hit the floor with a dull thump. He leaned on one leg and let out a breath of cold mist, taking a moment to survey his surroundings before looking back at his former mentor, "Well now. Hello to you too, Jack."

He had a slight Irish accent going on. Jack rolled his eyes disapprovingly at the others scruffy pretence, and walked back to the car.

The young man picked up his sack and ran a few paces to catch up, "I see you haven't lost your welcome…" he jibed at the other, causing Jack to roll his eyes a second time to hide his fondness of the young lad, "it's okay," he continued, throwing his arm over the other, "I know you've missed me."

Jack glared at him sideways. He was doing this on purpose….and enjoying it. They walked on together, his boots making splashes in the puddles of concrete, wetting the bottom of their pants.

"And just for the record, I wasn't late, you were premature…"

"I'm never premature."

Covenant Base

Unknown Location

                "How is her progress?"

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                Sark had been leaning over the techie as the latter did his best to tweak the system further, not that it did much good at this point, but no one wanted to be in Bonami's path and caught doing nothing. He lifted himself to face the other, "She should have the relevant info within the hour."

                "Good, then you know what you must do," Bonami eyed him sternly.

                "Of course," Sark replied calmly, "Rest assured, if I was willing to sacrifice my father for the pursuits of the Covenant, I am most willing to sacrifice her."

                Bonami did not smile back. He glanced down at the teachie momentarily then back at the other, "For your sake, I certainly hope so."

                Sark gave one of his usual smirks, "You have absolutely nothing to be worried about."

                The other left the room. The moment he did Sark reached for the drawer and pulled out the revolver inside. In one swift movement, he cocked it and aimed it at the techie's temple. The techie froze in his seat.

                "Now listen very carefully…heed my instructions, and you will live, and if I'm of a good disposition at the end of this you might even get a nice little reward. If not, I suggest you say your last rites. Do you you understand?"

                The latter nodded profusely.

                Sark retracted the gun, "Good."

CIA Safehouse

Los Angeles

Jack turned the key to apartment 7A, letting himself in and taking a quick look. The agency had cleaned it up pretty good, "There's food, toiletries, and whatever else you might need you can get a block away." He looked Alex up and down as he entered the apartment, then remarked, "There's also a cupboard stocked with a few suits in your size, which you obviously need."

Alex walked into the living room and looked around, checking to and fro, scouting out the rooms and balcony to check for areas of weakness, a given procedure for him. Jack tossed the key on the round table and settled himself on one of the seat, crossing his legs.

"Jack…" the young man enquired.

His eyes looked toward the bedroom, "False wall behind the wardrobe."

He heard the wardrobe doors creak open and the wooden boards being removed and replaced, and then the other came walking back into the living room, pulling his jacket off. He folded it neatly and drapped it over the armrest of the nearby sofa. Jack's lips curved upwards. The boy amused him. So scruffy to those who didn't know him, so precise at heart. He got up to make a move.

"Wait," Alex stopped him, and began rummaging through his bag, pulling out a bottle of 1951 Merlot with a wide grin, "You didn't think I was going to let you blow me off with just a lousy welcome did you?"

Jack smiled, "You do know this goes against CIA protocol."

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The younger grinned with open arms, "I promise to keep our relationship strictly professional."

Flight 247

En-route to Milan

                Syd fingered through the documents that Dixon had given them, scanning the information again and again. Ten alias, same woman. She pulled the photograph out from under the paper clip and studied it, her eyebrows knitting together as she did. There was something familiar about her, although she couldn't quite put her finger on it. She looked twenty-three or twenty four, beautiful…what was so important about this girl?

Vaughn shifted in his seat causing Sydney to glance to the side, he did too, and their eyes met for a moment.

"You know what scares me? …I half hope its true."

Syd was the first to look, and Vaughn returned to his reading.

They had been on the flight for three whole hours now, the whole row to themselves. Syd took the window seat, Vaughn the seat nearest to the isle…a seat separating them both. They hadn't spoken a word since the stop at the gas station; they had just left it dangling where it was, both unsure where to go with it. Eventually, she just said they should go, and he nodded, starting the ignition.

"But I'm also hopeful…and that's what scares me."

Neither of them wanted to talk about their feelings of guilt; whether it was towards Lauren, or towards each other.

                "Is our contact meeting us at the airport?" Syd tried. They usually didn't bother with details like that, each took care of their end, but she had to do something to break the silence.

                Vaughn placed the book on his lap, "No, Dixon doesn't want us compromising his cover. There'll be a car in the parking lot with all the gear."

                She nodded, trying to figure out what to say.

                He helped, "Have you reviewed the file?"

                "Only six times," she fiddled with her armrest, thinking how ridiculous the situation was, "I still can't figure it out, and that drives me crazy."

                Vaughn sighed, "Well, we'll find out soon enough."

CIA Safehouse

Los Angeles

                Jack pulled off his already loosened tie and threw it across the table. He had rolled up his white sleeves and was onto his second glass of wine. He looked relaxed, or rather as relaxed as a man of his circumstance could be. Alex studies him contemplatively, and noted the tiredness in his eyes. He wondered if he would grow that way as the years

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went by. Jack smirked and replied the unsaid question, "No, you might not end up like me, a jaded old…-der man, but yes, likely if you are running the path you're running you will end up exactly like me in twenty or so years."

"And how would you know what path I am running?" Alex challenged. It had been 5 years since they last saw one another, save that coincidental, but brief run in at the Italian consulate 3 years ago. Alex had wondered why he hadn't reported him to SD-6, but eventually he found out that the man was really working for the CIA.

"Because," Jack leaned forward, "I see it in your eyes. So young, so patriotic, so sad."

"I'm not sad." Alex defended.

Jack snickered in response, "We all are."

The other sipped his wine and remained quiet.

Jack continued, "Because I see the same thing hidden behind those eyes," he said referring to Alex, "the same thing I see in my daughter's eyes everyday. Maybe less, and maybe you're better at hiding it, but it's still there. The same thing."

"Why do you tell me the things you do?" Alex wondered, though he probably knew the answer to that question.

"What makes you think I'm telling you anything?" Jack took another sip of wine.

Jack had few friends, it was hard to keep them in this line…or hard to trust them. To be in this line of work one had to accept that no matter how close the friend, secrets would always be a problem between them. So they avoided the topic all together…but Alex, well, Alex came to him at a time when he had wanted to make something good of his pain. Or maybe it was Alex who attached himself to him like a leech that made him tutor the young protégé. In all honesty, he might have hated him for disappearing when he did, especially when later he had been linked with Irina…had it not been for the note that he had left...

TRUTH TAKES TIME

Until now Jack didn't understand it, but he understood him. Yet if time were to prove that his trust had been misappropriated, the older figured he was more than prepared for such an outcome.

"You saved my life." It came out more like a question than a statement.

A question of trust?

"You saved mine." The younger replied.

Or a question of debt?

The older wondered…

"You can trust me," Alex reassured him.

                I never meant to hurt you.

Jack smirked again, "Lesson number one: You can't trust anybody."

Alex shook his head.

Some things never change.

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"How's Sydney?" he finally brought up.

Jack was about to answer when Alex's cell phone rang, "Hello?" Alex put down his glass and stood up to take the call, walking a few paces away, rambling on in Russian, Jack caught as much as: What time? How long?,  nothing that could give away his game. The other looked agitated, so he figured it was something important.

"What's the…" Alex switched to English, "shit."

Saferoom, Viadro's Villa

Milan

Lauren held the bloody knife to his throat as she watched the surveillance feed coming through. The only thing that was going through her head was that she was running out of time, and she could not afford failure. Her life depended on it.

"NOW!"

                Viadro was shaking terribly in his restraints, "I said I would tell you…"

                She yanked him harder.

"Sh-she's under an alias…a deep cover assignment, even I don't know how to get to her…"

                "Liar!"

                "I'm not lying! I swear!"

                "If that true then I have no use for you!"

                "Wa-wait! There is another way…"

Downstairs…

                Syd fired off a few more rounds to divert the gaurds then made a run for the staircase pillar, knocking out a guard that came after her with a knife as she dashed across the tiled floor. Vaughn was already on the last few steps. She coughed, choking on the cloud of plaster powder that dislodged itself when several bullets hit the pillar. Her hair was a mess, her heart thumping hard as she crouched, taking cover. From the side of her eye she noticed the guard immerging, so before he had time to fire off a round, she beat him to it. Then before they had a chance to recover, she dashed out with kicks and punches flying.

She spin kicked one of them at a bad angle, which caused a bit of a sharp pain to shoot through her knee cap, but she hardly winced, and carried on.

                Vaughn had reached the second storey and roughly yanked the security panel out of it place to hot wire it. He quickly followed the various colored wires, briefly glancing up at the security cameras that were still online. The lines sparked. Bingo! And the door slid open. The room was empty except for the bloodied Doctor tied to the chair, and the panel that had been removed from the ceiling lying on the floor.

                Damn it. Vaughn rushed to untie the Doctor.

"The passenger! I have betrayed her!" he started rambling almost deliriously.

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                "Betrayed who?" Vaughn continued with his restraints. He didn't make any sense.

                "Years spent protecting her…" he looked at Vaughn with glazed eyes, "now she's alone…"

                "Who's she? Who are you protecting??" Vaughn ripped off the last of the wires. Grabbing Viadro by the shoulder to stand him up, he tried to get more information. Sydney came rushing breathlessly just then.

                "Those guards were order of Rambaldi."

                Viadro's eyes grew wide and his face looked like the blood had drained out of him as he pointed to her in fear, shaking like a leaf, "You're the one! …the one from the prophecy!" Then unexpectedly, he rushed out of Vaughn's grasp and lunged for Sydney's gun.

                "Wait!" Syd stammered, not understanding, "What are you.."

                "Drop it!" Vaughn shouted.

                But Viadro could not hear anything else but his panic, "You will not hurt her-"

                Bam!

                Vaughn pulled the trigger.

                Viadro's face went from fear to a lifeless serene in front to Sydney. She wasn't sure what hit the ground first, her gun or his body.

                She swayed slightly as sir went in and out of her lungs, her eyes finding their way to Vaughn, arrested in shock. Vaughn swallowed sadly, walking over to ascertain what he already knew what a fatal shot.

CIA Safehouse

                Alex had ended his phone call with Katya, only to turn around and find that Jack had already gotten his things and left; to leave him to handle his business. It was an understanding. Immediately after, Alex had set up his laptop to patch into the Villa's security system. He had watched the entire proceedings. The feed was jumpy, but it was enough. He killed the feed then closed his eyes sadly. Another friend lost. At times like these, even breathing seemed terribly tiresome.

                He dialed the number on his cell phone. It rang once.

                "I was too late."

                He ignored the brief condolences from the other line; it did nothing to console his guilt.

                "No. The passenger has not been compromised yet, but it will not be long…I have uncovered the identity of the CIA mole…no, she…yes, she was not the one…her husband. Michael Vaughn. He did it to protect Sydney…Yes, I know that may complicate matters."

                He headed to the living room to retrieve his glass of wine and gulped it down as he listened.

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                "…You know we should stick to her plan. …There's no time for that. No, I believe the mole will be eliminated in time…Yes, that is my assessment of the situation- …nothing is fool-proof!- I'm sorry. No, I'm just…I'm fine. I know. I will. Goodbye."

                He clicked the end call button, and took another slug of wine. He knew there was nothing he could have done, no way to anticipate how things turned out…but at the same time.

                I was too late.

                His apartment suddenly seemed so much bigger than it really was, and so much more alone.

Covenant Base

Unknown Location

Sark sauntered down the metals steps towards the body, nonchalantly looking at a stunned Lauren trying to catch her breath, "I went to Los Angeles to warn you, not to kill you. Perhaps in the future, you should try trusting me a little more."

She looked at him with a clearly bruised ego.

He stood with complete disregard over Bonami's lifeless corpse, then bent down with the gun still in his hand, with the other hand he picked up the disk and threw it in front of the techie, "Now get to work."

Lauren watched him as he placed the gun back on the table behind her, then defiantly, but more out of wariness, she asked, "Why?"

Sark smiled, then drew closer till he was only inches from her face, "Don't you ever grow tired of not being able to trust anyone?" his voice grew to a whisper, "I do." He kissed her almost chastely. "Despite our noblest intentions to be cold and ruthless killers, mercenaries who would kill even their own fathers to achieve our ends…you and I remain irrevocably human."

For a moment it seemed as though he was about to hiss her, but he slyly walked away, eliciting a slight hint of disappointment from her, "Are you saying, Julian, that you have feelings for me?"

He snickered at her question, "I am saying, my love, " he walked back toward her, "If you have to go to hell, why not have some company."

                She smiled at his sadistic sense of humor.

CIA Operations

Los Angeles

                Marshall would have crossed paths with him, but decided to take a detour. Never get in the way of a man on a warpath. Exactly what that war was, or who it was with, did not matter. Jack immerged from the entrance to the prison quarters with an intense look of bitterness in his eyes. The first thing that was going to happen when he got his hands on those papers was they would be burnt, he swore silently to himself. While his conscience may still have existed, at this moment it was pushed to the very back of his mind; all rational and moral reasoning seemed to dissipate in light of recent revelations. Perhaps the

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feeling of Irina's betrayal was part reason for his anger, but he wouldn't admit it, what drove him was the possibility that he was not…he couldn't even conceive of it.

                "Dad!" Syd made her way to him, and he did his best to compose himself.

                "Sydney. I heard about what happened with the Doctor." He switched to a topic that she was most certainly preoccupied with at present, the most classic way to throw her off his. He didn't want her unduly shaken by the prospects that were affecting him. He was just glad nothing had happened to her in Milan. It was what was best for her…and the diversion worked.

                "We were wrong about the passenger," she explained emotionally, "It's not a weapon. It's a person. The doctor sacrificed his life trying to protect her. When he saw me it was almost like he recognized me, like I was his worst fear come to life!"

                Jack considered carefully.

                She went on, "Dad," she smoothed her hair back agitatedly, "when he tried to kill me, he was trying to protect the Passenger from me."

                Syd closed her eyes momentarily just processing and trying to accept all that had occurred. But it brought back everything accumulated over the years with the Rambaldi prophecy. The woman the doctor feared so much, the woman all these high powered organizations were after, she just didn't understand it. She had been bitter and depressed after all that she had been through, but she could never imagine becoming that woman; that woman who would render the world unto utter desolation. She could not imagine that anything could even push her to such a point. She had never believed it, mocked it even, but when she saw the number of people who had paid the price, whether for good motivations or not, because they believed…some part of her did begin to wonder.

                Her father reached out and touched her arm, partly for her, partly for him, "Sloane," that name was like gall on his lips, "told me that after Il Dire said "peace", he searched for every possible meaning in that message. He traced the etymology of the word to its Greek form, Irine, also the derivation of the name Irina."

She looked at him quizzically. What was he getting at?

"Sydney, I think the passenger may be your mother."

Irina's Cabin

Long Si Mountains

                Ilena clipped the phone closed, as Irina turned.

                "The news is bad," Irina concluded seeing the other's face, and her sister remained silent, she was sure, "I know what you're thinking. We cannot run ahead of schedule."

                "But if we act now…" the other argued.

                "Kill off the cell leaders now and we risk losing what we've been working for…" Irina raised her voice slightly, then regained composure, "we cannot afford to do that. You know."

                Ilena did not reply, but stood where she was. Her sister walked over with folded arms, "Tell Katya to stick to the plan…"

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                "And if it doesn't work?"

                "Then we deal with it as it comes. We can't fight what we can't see…even best laid intentions don't work out…has Katya received the intel that Jack acquired from…"

                "Yes," Ilena confirmed, "It should be picked up…" she looked at her watch, "within the hour."

                "Good." The other moved to the window once more.

                Ilena watched her sister empathetically. She was always the emotional one of all the sisters. Irina was always the strong one, always had been. "I feel like we've tried helplessly to fight against the tide and come out with nothing." she hugged Irina from behind, "There was no way to anticipate every loop hole…you knew this. We can only wait now…has Sloane been executed?"

                "No. Not yet. Soon I think." Irina turned to face her.

                "At least that will give us one less thing to deal with…Irina. Jack will know."

                Irina pondered her words with a sullen smile, "That's the least of my worries." she sighed, and then picked up the previous conversation,  "Don't be impulsive…there are many whose fate rides on the decisions we make. They have made sacrifices to get where we are- we have made sacrifices to get here…keep her in line, Ilena."

                Ilena nodded, "How can you be so calm?"

                Irina gave a sad smile in return, "I don't have a choice."

                Too many scenarios, too many possibilities. Too many players and too many decisions to be made in between. Too much need for trust. Maybe that was the problem.

Train Station

Moscow Square

                He flipped the newspaper page, scanning it briefly before turning to the next, at the same time, carefully watching the passers by. He had no doubt he would be unrecognizable in his get up, but one could never be too sure. From the corner of his eye he saw the courier approach. She sat down on the bench behind him. He continued flipping.

                "Did you bring the payment?" he asked without breaking his process.

                She crossed her legs as per normal, "It's been delivered to the stipulated collection point. Has the materials been delivered?"

                He ignored the last question seeing as it was redundant. She knew he always delivered. His work was done here. He folded the paper and chucked it on the bench.

                "Tell Katya she owes me big time for this."

                She waited five minutes after he had gone before heading back.

Vaughn and Lauren's bedroom

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Los Angeles

"I'm looking forward to a nice weekend alone," Lauren smiled from the other side of the bed.

Vaughn smiled back halfheartedly, "Me too…So what did you do while I was gone?"

She hesitated for a moment, a brief moment, that in most circumstances he wouldn't have taken note, and then she walked over to him and gave him a kiss, "I missed you."

He tried to hide the sudden fear that surged through him.

"I'm going to run a bath," she said. And without answering his question, she proceeded into the bathroom.

"…occasionally she'd stop what she was doing, walk over, and offer me a kiss. A spontaneous gesture."

"All I'm asking is that you be responsive to the signs if and when they present themselves."

Vaughn waited until he heard the water running and then he made a frantic search of her things. One couldn't be sure if it was to find proof of exoneration…or implication. He rummaged through the dresser contents, the through their drawers. Nothing. He stood up momentarily scanning the room. Bed, lamp, wardrobe, towel cabinet…wardrobe. He walked purposefully over to the wardrobe, almost scared of what he might find. He flipped on the light, then yanked her suitcase from under his own, running his hands over the bag in the standard search pattern; round the sides, top and bottom, open flap, cover, sides…bottom.

He pressed his hand along the edge. It gave way…his face changing from fear to pale realization.

He swallowed.

                No.