Title: Fortuitous Associations
Author: Chiefhow
Rating: R
Ship: sarkney
Summary: A bit AU, fun sarkney action, without being too sappy. Syd and Vaughn go on a mission in Paris, and things go wrong, as they are prone to do.
Prologue
“Bastard.”
“Language. What sort of example will that set for the children?”
“The children are with Mom. I can call you a f-“
“Sydney?”
“F*ck” Vaughn had the unfortunate talent for showing up whenever she and her husband were having disagreements.
She composed her face into a more acceptable expression of vague interest. “Yes, did you need something?”
She could feel the a**hole smile behind her back. Just wait until Sloane got to him. He wouldn’t be so pleased with himself then.
Vaughn furrowed his brow in Sark’s general direction. He had never particularly warmed to Sark, which Sark insisted has absolutely nothing to do with Vaughn’s unfortunate leotard op of 2004. Sark maintained that he had no such sway with work assignments. Some people actually believed him.
Sark excused himself with a sardonic nod to Vaughn, and sought out a nice corner to lurk in and observe the conversation between his wife and her former handler. Him, jealous? Amused, was more how he liked to describe it.
“Sydney,” Vaughn began in hushed tones “Is everything alright?”
Sydney managed not to roll her eyes. “I assure you I am perfectly comfortable with my mission’s parameters. Do you have concerns?”
Vaughn fidgeted with something in his pocket. “I just, well. It isn’t a problem. I mean, you and me, in Paris. Together.” He finished, wistfully.
She blinked, and took a few seconds to mentally compose her response. “Agent Vaughn, I have no problem completing agency mandated assignments with you, no matter what the locale.” She said, with finality, and turned on her heal towards Dixon’s office.
Dixon looked up from an impressive stack of papers. Sometimes he added Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire to the bottom of the pile, for the dual purpose of making him look more busy, and allowing him to repeat the experience of Wormtail cutting off his own hand. Lousy F*cker.
“Yes?” he asked, hoping the spine of the book wasn’t too prominent.
“Is the Paris mission necessary? I could do it by myself, you know.” Sydney informed him, hoping not to seem too desperate.
“Sydney,” Dixon sighed, tired of the same argument, and wanting desperately to return to the yuletide ball, “My decisions as Director are final. Besides, Vaughn hasn’t been assigned many ops lately. We have to use him sometime. It’s a waste of payroll to have him do paperwork all the time.”
“He hasn’t been assigned any ops lately because he’s incompetent. Remember the leotard incident of 2004?”
“That was pretty bad. But it was a solo op; he’ll have you to cover for him. It’ll be fine.”
“Right.” Said Sydney, sarcastically.
“Well, now that that’s settled, I have some urgent business to attend to.” Said Dixon, returning his attention to the papers. The top on was an official looking document that confused him completely.
Sydney left the office with a silent and petulant whatever.
Life was decidedly more complicated upon her return three years ago. So what if she happened to come back with a former international terrorist for a hubby? They’d brought down a fiendish criminal organization, hadn’t they? Can’t please anybody these days.
Author: Chiefhow
Rating: R
Ship: sarkney
Summary: A bit AU, fun sarkney action, without being too sappy. Syd and Vaughn go on a mission in Paris, and things go wrong, as they are prone to do.
Prologue
“Bastard.”
“Language. What sort of example will that set for the children?”
“The children are with Mom. I can call you a f-“
“Sydney?”
“F*ck” Vaughn had the unfortunate talent for showing up whenever she and her husband were having disagreements.
She composed her face into a more acceptable expression of vague interest. “Yes, did you need something?”
She could feel the a**hole smile behind her back. Just wait until Sloane got to him. He wouldn’t be so pleased with himself then.
Vaughn furrowed his brow in Sark’s general direction. He had never particularly warmed to Sark, which Sark insisted has absolutely nothing to do with Vaughn’s unfortunate leotard op of 2004. Sark maintained that he had no such sway with work assignments. Some people actually believed him.
Sark excused himself with a sardonic nod to Vaughn, and sought out a nice corner to lurk in and observe the conversation between his wife and her former handler. Him, jealous? Amused, was more how he liked to describe it.
“Sydney,” Vaughn began in hushed tones “Is everything alright?”
Sydney managed not to roll her eyes. “I assure you I am perfectly comfortable with my mission’s parameters. Do you have concerns?”
Vaughn fidgeted with something in his pocket. “I just, well. It isn’t a problem. I mean, you and me, in Paris. Together.” He finished, wistfully.
She blinked, and took a few seconds to mentally compose her response. “Agent Vaughn, I have no problem completing agency mandated assignments with you, no matter what the locale.” She said, with finality, and turned on her heal towards Dixon’s office.
Dixon looked up from an impressive stack of papers. Sometimes he added Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire to the bottom of the pile, for the dual purpose of making him look more busy, and allowing him to repeat the experience of Wormtail cutting off his own hand. Lousy F*cker.
“Yes?” he asked, hoping the spine of the book wasn’t too prominent.
“Is the Paris mission necessary? I could do it by myself, you know.” Sydney informed him, hoping not to seem too desperate.
“Sydney,” Dixon sighed, tired of the same argument, and wanting desperately to return to the yuletide ball, “My decisions as Director are final. Besides, Vaughn hasn’t been assigned many ops lately. We have to use him sometime. It’s a waste of payroll to have him do paperwork all the time.”
“He hasn’t been assigned any ops lately because he’s incompetent. Remember the leotard incident of 2004?”
“That was pretty bad. But it was a solo op; he’ll have you to cover for him. It’ll be fine.”
“Right.” Said Sydney, sarcastically.
“Well, now that that’s settled, I have some urgent business to attend to.” Said Dixon, returning his attention to the papers. The top on was an official looking document that confused him completely.
Sydney left the office with a silent and petulant whatever.
Life was decidedly more complicated upon her return three years ago. So what if she happened to come back with a former international terrorist for a hubby? They’d brought down a fiendish criminal organization, hadn’t they? Can’t please anybody these days.