The Perfect Weapon -Epilogue 1 part 2
The Perfect Weapon -Epilogue 1 part 2
Walking into the bathroom, Jack pulled out his razor and shaving cream. Running the hot water, he dialed the phone and when the archivist answered, albeit grumpily, he stated, “This is Bristow. I know it’s early. I can tell time too. I need a favor. I want copies made of my dissertation and delivered during lunch. Oh and I’d like them in some special folders I’ll have sent over. You’ll know which ones are meant for this purpose - they’ll be bright pink. Thank you. I’ll owe you. Fix a parking ticket? That’s it? Sure, let me know....” He shook his head. Fix a parking ticket? A small price to pay for doing an end run.
###
“Hey, Barbie, it’s Midge. Just calling in to see how you’re doing?”
“I’m tired,” Sydney groaned. “I didn’t sleep much last night. I was afraid of what I might dream---”
“Are you over the sqwick factor now though? Vaughn will have to come home soon before he goes to work--”
“I know. I’m already dressed and ready to go. I don’t want to spend too much time with him this morning or I may... I don’t know what. But I don’t know if I’ll ever recover.”
“Just look at it this way -- he was just trying to learn what you want to please you.”
“But that way?” Sydney said indignantly. “Forget it. I’ll write him a note with instructions or... highlight relevant passages in a romance novel.”
“A romance novel. But... the words they use... Shaft? And---”
“Member? Isn’t that a funny word for that? I mean, I’m always thinking. Member? Is there a club? Do they wear hats? Drive little cars in parades? Run a traveling circus? Have a funny handshake?”
“Hey, who knows what men do in restrooms?”
“Good point. Oops, gotta go. My hero is driving in right now.”
“Ask him if he can introduced me to a member in good standing in the men’s club, why don’t you?” Susan said as she rang off to a peel of laughter from Sydney.
###
“Vaughn, is that you?” Sydney asked as she heard the door to their apartment open.
“Yeah, it’s me. Is it okay to come in?” Vaughn asked from the front door.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?” Sydney asked, still in the bedroom. She began walking out into the living room and watched curiously as Vaughn darted into the living room himself. What was he doing?
“Well, last night....” he said, loudly, obviously not realizing how close she was.
“Was last night. My father told me you spent the night there?” Sydney confirmed, smiling as she remembered the amusement in her father’s voice during his quick phone call while Vaughn was, he said, ‘busy with a furrowed forehead while he contemplated his choices.’ She wasn’t quite sure she wanted to know what kind of options her father had presented to Vaughn, but apparently it had nothing to do with this game in motion or he would have told her.
“Yeah. I slept on his couch,” Vaughn explained, quickly opening the drawer on an end table and pulling out a pack of cards. “I’m sorry for whatever it was that I did-“
“It’s okay,” Sydney said, lying through her teeth, as she loudly clomped into the living room and pretended she did not see Vaughn zipping his briefcase closed. Did he think she was the worst spy ever, or what? “But what did you and my father do? Watch a hockey game?”
“It’s July. It’s not hockey season,” Vaughn reminded her as he pulled his clothes off on the way to the bathroom. At least not in this hemisphere. Did they have hockey in Australia? If he batted zero with a second Bristow in two days, he might be emigrating there tomorrow and that background information might just come in handy. But, no, he had done all the necessary background research. This was going to be a good day. After all, Jack hadn’t killed him last night when he had turned the page for the fifth or... was it fiftieth time.... in his pad. Good thing Jack had so many sharpened pencils around.
“But, what did you two do then? The gun range?” Sydney asked, following him into the bathroom, picking up the mess along the way and throwing it into the hamper. Honestly, couldn’t he pick up his own damn clothes?
“No. We, um, worked on a jewelry project,” he said, his back to her as he ripped open the shower curtain. Then winced as he heard the hamper lid snap down a little too hard. Oops. He had forgotten how Sydney did not like any mess. Jack had told him a million times it was easier to remember the little things that drove a woman crazy and not do them rather than deal with the repercussions. Great, he was already in the dog house and now he’d thrown clothes on the floor. Who knew when he’d have sex again? He sighed and turned the water to a colder setting.
Hot Look Ken was not this much trouble, Sydney griped to herself as she slammed the hamper lid down. Although, she thought, smiling, Hot Look Ken did not look as good from the back as her own Ken. And even though Hot Look Ken was twelve inches, none of those were fully functional inches. So, there were compensations to her own Ken. “I’m glad to see you home, Vaughn,” she ventured.
He popped his head around the curtain and gave her a surprised smile in return. “Me too. I mean I’m glad to be home. Do you...want to join me?” he offered.
“Sorry, but I’m already ready and I need to get to work.” And besides, I’m not over the sqwickiness of last night, she thought, and occupied herself with folding the already-folded towels. “So, you and my father worked on a jewelry project last night? What kind?”
“Um. A new one. He’s trying something new...” Vaughn said and turned the shower on to a hotter setting with more water pressure. Maybe she would give up with the onslaught of noise. Please, give up, don’t ask me any more.
But, hmm. Um? That usually meant Vaughn was nervous or was not telling the entire truth. ‘A jewelry project’? Oh, must be a Christmas gift for her or something. Which was not what she wanted. Damn it.
“Turn on the fan!” Sydney said irritably, flicking the switch near the shower. “It’s as hot and humid in here as.... as last month in Sri Lanka. That... clearing we went to.”
What now, he thought, no, let’s be honest, whined to himself. What had he done wrong now? He protested, “I thought you liked that hike, that place Zamir and your father told us about.”
“Yes. It was beautiful. The sunrise just as we got to the clearing, the sound of the waterfall, the greenery, the flowers, the scent of the flowers...Beautiful.”
Of course, it would have been more beautiful she thought, slamming the medicine cabinet door, if he had proposed in that setting, now wouldn’t it? Was he ever going to propose? Should she do it herself? No, no, she would not. There were just some things that the man should do. Take out garbage. Kill bugs. Put up the Christmas tree. Give a girl a decent orgasm. All things she could do on her own, but why? That was why you had a man around. Not for their stunning insights into human motivations or need or...she thought, remembering last night, their good sense. Yuck.
“Um, Syd, honey. If that was such a good memory, why are you repeatedly slamming the medicine cabinet door?”
“Oh, just shower and let’s put this game in play,” Sydney growled and slammed out of the bathroom.
“What?!” He turned off the shower with a jerk. Grabbing a towel, he stepped out and opened the door with a jerk.
“Don’t squeak. It’s unattractive in a man,” Sydney yelled back at him, as she realized she had nearly made an error and hoped the comment originally from Jack Bristow would distract him---
He called out, “What did you say?”
s***, she thought, she was not her father. He was still on point. Misdirect, her father would say. She thought quickly and responded, “I said, just shower and it’s a shame you didn’t stay to play-“
“Play what?”
“Barbies with me last night.”
“Geez! Those damn dolls!” Vaughn growled and slammed the door closed. He swore, one day, he’d get rid of those dolls. There were not going to be any of those dolls in his, no their, house when they got married. Nope, they were having boys, all boys and they would play hockey. And baseball. And smash trucks into each other. And no dolls. No Barbies with their creepy smiles and staring eyes and emasculated boyfriends. Nope. No dolls.
Sydney smiled as she started her car. Her father was right. The Barbie game, and misdirection, always worked on Michael Vaughn.
###
“Hey, it’s me,” Sydney said.
“Hey, me,” Jack said, smiling as he spoke into the phone.
“Thanks again for calling and letting me know that Vaughn was at your place last night.”
“No problem. Didn’t want you to worry. Like he did. He had bad dreams all night,” Jack rolled his eyes. “He kept waking me up with his endless yapping in his sleep, ‘No! Not the pink footie pajamas!’ Want to tell me what that’s about?”
“Um. No, actually, I don’t.”
Jack smiled again. And taking pity on her asked, ”Did you get anything from him this morning?”
“No. He came in, took a pack of cards out of the end table, showered, and then I left.”
“A pack of cards? Why in the world would he...Wait. The last time we all played cards, a couple of months ago, at the Op Center while waiting for some intel to come in from the field....”
“He was asking about those card parties you all had when you were young. Yes, I remember that.”
“But what would that have to do with... anything?” Jack mused. “Damn it. Why can’t I see this? Should I ask Judy her opinion? Or is it just so subtle that....”
“Susan is not subtle, Dad, so....”
“What do you think about this notion - this lunch with everyone that Vaughn is so eager to arrange.....”
“Lunch. Today. What in the world could they be planning?”
“I can’t figure it out. Not really. Not anything I’d believe, let’s say. Is there anything you can imagine that Vaughn would gain from running some game on me?” He had an idea, but he could not really believe that Vaughn would attempt this and even if he would, with whom? And at lunch? In the Agency cafeteria? Was he just being blind? Was it so obvious he was missing it? “What in the world could Vaughn gain by running a game on me?”
“I cannot think of what....” Sydney frowned, as she thought. Wait. Vaughn seemed jealous, occasionally, of the time spent with her father. How did she spend time with her father? Shopping, endlessly, for a house. But when he bought a house, she’d probably help him decorate it and then work on a garden with him, at least occasionally, so buying a house would net Vaughn nothing. He had whined once or twice, okay, many times, when she would pace on those rare occasions her father had a date. Always a first date, never a second.
She smiled, remembering the last time, how Vaughn had tried to distract her from her worries by asking her questions about how her parents had met, how they had dated...Wait. No. He wouldn’t. Would he? “Hmm.Oh, boy, this could get interesting,” she said aloud. Interesting or messy. Oh well, her father wouldn’t kill Vaughn. Would he? No, just make him uncomfortable. Then she bit her lip, well, Vaughn had been plenty uncomfortable last night, hadn’t he? Her father had gotten his payback in advance and he didn’t even know it. Well, at least she thought he didn’t know it. She was certainly not going to tell him that Vaughn had tried to use the manual on her. Yuck. She shuddered again and groaned.. Maybe Vaughn should sleep at Eric’s tonight.
“Have you thought of something? You said interesting,” Jack asked, knowing he had heard her thinking aloud, wondering if he had just heard a click before that shudder. What an idiot Vaughn had been to try and use that manual on Sydney. Ha, he’d gotten payback and he hadn’t even had to try. Karma was a wonderful force of nature, wasn’t it?
“Maybe, but... No.” She shook her head. “Well, we’ll find out soon enough, I guess.”
“I guess. Oh, I almost forgot. Since everyone’s going to be at lunch, I thought we should call Susan and invite her. Make that introduction with Weiss finally?” Jack suggested.
“A set up? Sure. Good idea. But...do you want to press her for information?”
“No. Why bother? She’ll never crack under pressure. I’ll call and invite her to lunch---”
“She’s coming anyway, you just know that,” Sydney asserted.
“I know. But the call will make her nervous,” Jack said happily.
“Dad,” Sydney giggled. “You are a bad, bad man. I do love this stuff.”
“Me too. So, I’ll get her there early and introduce her to Weiss. He’ll distract her - he’s good at that and this will be natural --- and that will leave Vaughn more or less on his own.”
“Okay,” Sydney nodded. “This should be interesting. If not fun.”
“Possibly. We’ll see who survives it.”
“The game?”
“And the cafeteria food. Why did it have to be there?” Jack mused, then shook his head. He felt like an idiot, why could he not see whatever it was? He wondered as he and Sydney said goodbye. She was off to work early, wasn’t she? Had it really been that bad last night? Or maybe, he just didn’t want to think about that, anyway. Time to move along.
###
“Susan, it’s Jack.”
“Hi, Jack! Why are you up so early?” Susan asked. Two Bristow phone calls in a row. What a way to get the heart rate up first thing in the morning.
“It’s not early. I’ve been up for hours. But I’m calling to ask this. What are you doing?”
She paused and then decided to go with the obvious. No point in giving away the game if he was just making conversation. Although, did Jack just ever make conversation? Well, let’s pretend, she decided. She was a woman, she could fake it with a man, after all. “Walking my dog. Did I ever tell you how healthy it is to have a pet and--”
“I don’t care about your animal, Susan. I care about-“
“Well, you should care, let me tell you that you would benefit from---.”
“Susan, don’t give me another lecture on how I need a pet. I let you drag me to your book group on occasion and last time, last time, we were reading some Nora Roberts snooze fest and-“
“Jack, why are you calling?”
“I’m calling because I’d like you to come a little early to the little lunch Vaughn has set up today.”
She paused. This was a ploy. He knew something. How much did he know? Sydney had not mentioned anything about her father knowing... But, she had to proceed cautiously. No need to tip one’s hand. “ ‘Set up?’” she asked as lightly as she could.
“Yes, set up,” Jack said blandly. Susan winced. He knew something alright. Sydney had not told her that. Then she brightened when he added, “I’m thinking of lunch that way, because there is someone with whom I’d like to set you up.”
“Huh?” Susan said in desperation. What was he doing?
“You are clearly spending too much time with Vaughn. His inarticularity is apparently contagious.”
“Is inarticularity a word?” Susan scoffed.
“If not, it should be. Perhaps I’ll write a new dictionary in my spare time.”
“A new dictionary?”
“Yes. With words like inarticularity and sqwick in them,” Jack said with a smile in his voice.
Susan giggled. “Sqwick.” Sydney had been so totally freaked out last night with Vaughn’s choice to use her father’s methods on her.
“Oh and another word should be in my dictionary,” Jack said blandly.
“Which is what?”
“Payback.”
“Jack! You’ll-“
“See you at lunch,” he said brightly. “Bye.”
Then listening carefully as she trailed off saying to herself, “But he will thank us, I know he will.”
“In which case-“
“You heard that?” Susan exclaimed in shock.
“It’s never wise to sever a connection prematurely,” Jack said smugly.
“Jack...” She ground her teeth. Suddenly she knew why Judy had bitten pencils before her sessions with Jack and threw pencils at him to this day. “I’d like to smack you myself.”
“Ah, Judy with her pencils, you with the smacking, Sydney’s smartmouth. I seem to inspire strong reactions in the women around me. It’s a gift.”
“Use it for good instead of evil, why don’t you?”
“I’m enjoying myself. It’s one of my little pleasures in life.”
“Like payback?”
“Well, it doesn’t have to be payback. If you think I will thank you, in that case, it won’t be payback, it will be a payment on a debt owed. But then again, it’s your choice. Your... interpretation. Your personal taste. Of what I’m about to do. Not the jello in the lunch room.”
“Jack! What are you about to do?”
“You’ll find out at lunch,” Jack said softly and hung up. Jack shook his head. It was really too bad of him to scare Susan like that. He had heard her little gasp as he hung up. But... it was one of his little pleasures. Hmm, maybe, Vaughn was right and he needed.... Well, he wasn’t going to go that far, he thought as he dialed a number on his phone.
###
Sylvester Kendall looked into the mirror and smiled widely, inspecting his teeth. When his phone rang, he picked it up and still gazing at himself, said, “Kendall.”
“It’s Vaughn. You are coming to lunch with us today, correct?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this little meddling game of yours for the world, Vaughn,” Kendall said, running his hand over his head. Hmm, maybe it needed a touch up with the razor. Stubble would not do. He shrugged. He had more to worry about today than the shine on his head. He smiled as he said, “You don’t seem to have the survival instincts the other half of your Gruesome Twosome does. So... Just one question before lunch. Do you prefer open casket funeral or a simple cremation?”
####
“Jack? Hi, what’s shaking?” Weiss asked as he walked his dog and noted that his hand had begun shaking the moment he had seen the caller ID.
“Shaking? I don’t shake anything at any time, Eric.”
“Well, that’s too bad. Didn’t you grow up in the sixties and seventies? Didn’t you all have a dance called the Frug?”
“The what?”
“Never mind. But you have been loosening up lately. You’ve even dangled a preposition or two.”
“Luckily, that’s the only thing I... dangle. Now, on to business.”
“What business?” Weiss asked. Then protested, “I’m just here walking my dog, minding my own business, while he does his.”
“Ah. The business of wielding a pooper scooper. A fine use of your talents,” Jack noted.
“As in, that’s what I’ll be doing for a living if I don’t help you in some way, correct?”
“All I really want you to do is show up for lunch,” Jack asserted. “In case you were thinking of hiding somewhere.”
“How did you know?” Weiss stopped and stared at his phone. Jack scared him sometimes. He knew people too well. If not himself, as this lunch would no doubt prove if his own suspicions were correct.
“Actually, I want you to come to lunch because there’s someone I want you to meet.”
“Who? I hope.... Is it that blonde that hauled you out of the Op Center that day? Please tell me it is. I could love a woman like that.”
“Yes, it’s her.”
“I have wanted to meet her ever since that day. I will so owe you,” Weiss moaned.
“Yes. You will,” Jack said succinctly.
“Okay,” Weiss sighed.”What do you want, Jack?”
“Ah, you see the point?”
“I’m no idiot. I’m trying to stay out of this.”
“I know that. That’s why I’ve come to you. Because I know you are not an idiot and you know bloodshed may occur.”
“Not at lunch, afterwards.”
“Afterwards? What do you know?”
“We’re all supposed to meet in the bathroom afterwards. That’s all I know. I was holding something back in case I needed it. Are we even?”
“We’ll see,” Jack said and hung up. Ha! he thought. He knew he should have done the interrogation himself. He had clearer vision than Sydney when it came to extracting information, sometimes a quid pro quo was all that was needed. Now, if he could just ascertain what his blind spot was....
###
“Sydney...what is my blind spot?” Jack asked without preamble when Sydney answered her phone.
“Your blind spot?” Sydney frowned as she negotiated a turn that would lead off of the highway onto the surface streets.
“Yes. Why can I not figure this out? There must be a reason, it must be my blind spot.”
“I’m not sure, Dad. You have so many. There’s the business about not being in touch with your emotions....”
“Oh, for the love of-“
“There’s your complete inability to pick out a house-“
“I’m buying one-“
“Dad. We’ve look at seventy-four houses. Seventy-four! There’s picky and then there’s bordering on---”
“Actually, Syd, I asked Judy to look at-“
“To say nothing of your inability to order flowers in a timely fashion.”
“Okay, you have me there,” Jack said glumly. “Sorry about yesterday. I thought it would take five minutes.”
“An hour and a half later....” Sydney reminded him with a grin.
“I know, I know,” he muttered, then ran a hand through his hair.
“But... really. What was that about?”
Putting the extra pillow and blanket away, Jack commented absently,“Don’t dangle your prepositions.”
“Oh, c’mon. Who says, about what was that?”
“I would.”
“When you’ve got a stick shoved up your-“
“Sydney Bristow!” Jack exclaimed, slamming the door to the linen closet in the hallway with unnecessary force.
“Answer the question,” Sydney gritted out. Honestly, she wasn’t sure what was worse. This obtuseness that had to be deliberate or that formality he used to affect when he felt nervous or anxious. He had dropped that when she had pointed it out, deciding that it was a weakness and gave away his vulnerability in a game or negotiation.
“What question?”
“What. Was. That. About?” Sydney gritted out. He said he was not nervous about this game, but something was going on. Had been going on ever since she had seen him pacing in the florist shop, running his hands through his hair. “Dad. What was that about? The vacillation before the case of exotics?”
“I don’t know. If I knew, I would know. But I don’t know, so I don’t know. Now, anyway. I have a feeling---”
“Dad...What was that?” Sydney said incredulously. “You were just... inarticulate. Have you been spending time with Marshall?”
“No, Vaughn.” Jack said, clearly annoyed. “But apparently Marshall has been spending time inside my head.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Your little boyfriend was showing Marshall my dissertation last night,” Jack told her.
“What?! He showed innocent little Marshall that, that...”
“Yes,” Jack clipped out. “I shudder to think what impact that might have had on the boy.”
###
“Carrie, when I made such a simple request for information, I have to admit that I never expected such detailed instructions,” Marshall said, turning his head to face her.
“You’re still in shock, aren’t you, Marshall?” Carrie asked, giggling at Marshall’s coherent verbalization.
“Totally. Completely. Absolutely. You know, I really like Jack’s rule about why should one use only one word when you can use three, don’t you? But,” he said looking at his watch, “Jack asked me to devise a security system for his new place and I really should get up,” Marshall noted.
“Yes. You should,” Carrie said with a grin. She reached her hand out, but stopped when Marshall’s phone rang.
“It’s Vaughn. Just checking to ensure that you are coming to lunch with us today. And do you know if Carrie can make it?”
“Sure. Let me ask-“
“Ask? She’s there? With you? At 6am? In the morning?” Vaughn asked incredulously.
“Yes, yes, yes. And oh, yes.”
“How? Why?”
“I think you know the why. At least I hope you know the why. If you don’t know the why, perhaps that explains why Jack doesn’t have any grandchildren yet. Although of course, you better propose to Sydney first. I mean, actually get married before the grandchildren arrive. I mean Jack would accept it, but why push your luck? I mean, with Jack pushing your luck is not the best move. Or even a better move. Or a good move. Get it? Good, better, best? Get it, got it, Good? What would you say, Carrie?”
Carrie sighed. He was back to normal. Well, she decided, giving his cheek a kiss, he was kinda cute, after all. Speaking up, she said, “I’d say Vaughn should propose to make him and Sydney happy, not to please anyone else. And I’d also say that if Vaughn was smart he’d do it sooner rather than later before either of the Bristows lose patience. And I’d also tell him thank you from me for showing you that manual,” Carrie said loudly enough for Vaughn to hear. She threw back the covers and walked toward the bathroom.
Vaughn spluttered, “It worked on Carrie. When you did it. When YOU did it. Carrie liked it?”
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t it? Don’t tell me...”
“I, I who gave you the stinkin’ manual spent the night on Jack’s couch!”
“Well, that’s odd. Although Jack did mention in his introduction that individual variables can account for results outside the norm... Not that I want to know about Sydney’s individual variables if you know what I mean. I have enough to think about for a lifetime with Carrie’s individual variables, thank you very much. Not that there’s anything... weird or unusual, because there’s not. Not that I would really know. But instinct would tell you. But maybe instinct flies out the window when you...” he dropped his voice to a whisper. “Love someone. But maybe love is the ultimate instinct? But then why are people so stupid about love if it’s an instinct---”
“Because they screw up, Marshall! Remember the blind spot? Or they have weaknesses or stupid priorities---”
“Speaking of priorities, when are you going to propose to Sydney? I would think that would be a high priority? Aren’t you the one always nodding when Jack is telling someone to seize the moment? So, what’s the hold up? I mean, don’t you have the money for a ring? I can loan you some. I have some money, well, a lot of money, socked away from some of my patents but---”
“Marshall, I told you before. I just can’t, couldn’t find the perfect ring.”
“But...as long as you chose it with love, wouldn’t that make it perfect?”
“So someone else told me. Last night,” Vaughn sighed. “I want it to be special. Unique. And now---”
“But...after last night, I’m thinking you may need more than a ring. You should ask Jack, he’s the jewelry man. But I still don’t know why that manual didn’t work. You would think... I mean, genetics being what they are.... I mean. Wait a minute. Do you think Sydney knows? About the dissertation?” He dropped his voice and give a furtive look in the direction of the bathroom where he heard the shower go on. Why was he sitting here talking to Vaughn, anyway?
“Marshall, Marshall, are you there? What were you saying?” Vaughn asked in confusion. Marshall could not have said what he thought he said, could he?
“Sydney,” Marshall answered absently as he began walking toward the bathroom. “Maybe she knows about the manual and if you used it on her...Total sqwick.”
“Well, but how would she know? Jack would never tell her about it,” Vaughn protested. He would not, could not. That would blow his entire protective cover to shreds. He’d be relying on Jack’s good will and... He’d be dead. So dead. Or wishing he were dead.
“Whatever. Later,” Marshall said and clicked the phone closed. Not realizing he was no longer speaking into a live line, he mumbled, “Unless she decided to take her father’s advice and do some background research. I mean, that dissertation is listed right there in the Archives’ database. Anyone could see it. Anyone with a decent security clearance can look at that dissertation. Vaughn?” Oh, he realized looking down at the phone, he had accidentally turned it off. Well, if Vaughn had half a brain he would realize that Jack already knew that he, Marshall knew. But then again if Vaughn knew that Jack knew, he would know....Huh? He was confusing himself. If Jack were smart, which Jack was, he would be planning an end run or two on Vaughn right now. But right now, he had Carrie in the bathroom in a shower. Maybe she’d tell him a thing or two again, he hoped as he opened the bathroom door. Smiling, he said, “I really owe Jack a favor.”
“As do I,” Carrie smiled as she pulled the shower curtain open.
###
Shaking the can of shaving cream with one hand, he shook his head. That had been too easy, fixing that parking ticket. What a waste of his talents, he thought, rolling his eyes at himself in the mirror. But then again, he had been wasting his talents for quite a while now.
Punching a number on his speed dial with the other, he smiled as the other person answered. Putting the phone on speaker, he set it on the sink and began lathering his face.
“Why are you calling me at the crack of dawn? And why do you do this? Call me in the middle of the night?”
“It’s not the middle of the night.”
“It was last week when you called at 3am and gave me a heart attack.”
He grinned. She had been scared and then so angry. That had been good. He had been anticipating that little joke forever. And it had been so worth it. Her reaction had been all that he could have wanted. Then he sighed, clearly he needed to get a life or... Move along, Bristow. “You’re too easily startled,” he said picking up his razor.
“You’re too easily amused. I know that was a line of crap, that you forgot the time difference in Denver and called me from...wherever the hell it was you were calling.”
“I’m impressed. It’s not even 6am and you didn’t dangle the preposition.”
“I’m starting to wonder about your fetish about...dangling.”
“What?!” He held onto his razor carefully, he had almost slit his own throat that time.
“Sometimes,” she sighed, “You can be as thick as a brick.” Then she bit her lip, no, she would not say anything.
“You know, that’s partly why I called.”
“Because...you’re thick as -“
“This is starting to sound vaguely...prurient and I’m sure you didn’t intend that-“ He stopped when she... was it, snorted? No, the water running in the sink must be masking or distorting her words. He turned the spigot off. “I called, wanting to ask you two questions.”
“Well, it’s five minutes later and I’ve heard no questions.”
“You distract me.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing? You tell me, you are the one who watches Martha Stewart.”
“Sydney and I enjoy analyzing how deep her control freak tendencies are on any given day. But, I told you that months ago. Many, many months ago. And you remember that?”
“I review my notes of our conversations on a regular basis. You know, for that paper I’m writing?”
“Very amusing.”
“Yes, they...amuse me when I have insomnia.”
“Surely you can find something better-“
“True. I could always get my copy of your dissertation out-“
“Well, that answers that question.”
“Was that one of your questions?”
“No.” He sighed and picked up the razor again. “I wanted to know what you thought was my blind spot. I know, you’re going to say-“
“Your-“
“You’re about to say," he paused and began again using a higher voice, " 'Wait a minute-“
“Emotions.”
“There are so many-“
“Knowing-“
“I’ll get back to you with a list.'" He stopped and resumed his normal voice, "But, I’d really like to know-“
“Your own emotions.”
“Emotions, shmotions.”
“What did you say? Are you drinking heavily again?”
“Of course not. I don’t have enough time to drink. But Vaughn last night...” He laughed. “But I’m not talking about emotions. I’m talking about the way in which Vaughn and Susan could be running a game on me. Something happened yesterday-“
“Yesterday?”
“Yes. And I would appreciate it if you would divulge any information you might have---” He began shaving again and then noted that his eyes seemed...was it...Well, he wasn’t worried about this game, so why did he appear anxious, like a young... He shook his head. Maybe he needed some coffee?
“Why so formal? And information on what topic? Please, not on that movie we saw a few weeks ago. It’s too early in the morning to debate the plausibility of molecular transponders.”
“Nah. Besides, I thought we already established that the use of that technology was a cheap sci-fi stunt to get from point A to point B in the plot and not worth discussing?” He scraped the razor along his chin.
“True. But as I said, it’s early in the morning and I’m just not up for one of your games. And-are you shaving while you’re talking to me?”
“Sure, I can do two things at once. It’s one of my many gifts.”
“The female mind boggles at the possibilities implied by that statement.”
His hand stopped in midstroke. Then he shook his head, he must be imagining... connotations where none existed. Desperately, he blurted, “I just got Vaughn out of here.”
“Why was Vaughn there?”
“Sydney kicked him out last night. Dollars to doughnuts he tried to use... Oh, never mind.”
“Just tell me what you want, already.”
Jack sighed, as he finished shaving, “I’ve waited twenty years for someone to say that to me again and mean it and it’s over the phone in a snotty tone. Life is so unfair.”
There was a long silence then, “Life is full of inequity. Get over it.”
“But don’t you think we might discuss-“
“Jack, it’s not even six am. Just tell me what you want.”
“I think I’m enjoying this.”
“Just remember, payback is a b****.”
“Given that you’re speaking about yourself in that context, you would know.”
“You know...”
He grinned. He could actually hear her opening her nightstand drawer, or so he imagined, looking for---
“Jack. I’ll tell you this one time. You’ll enjoy life a lot less if you don’t-“
“Define enjoy life a lot less. Because as you know, I have had ridiculously low expectations in the past and-“
“Jonathan Donahue Bristow... Okay, you win. You win. Just tell me before I scream.”
He bit his lip as he forced himself to not say the word that were dying to tumble out of his mouth, ‘This is not how I’d like to make you scream.’ And what the hell was up with that? Why had he even thought those words? With her? He needed better control. Or maybe Vaughn was right - and clearly hell had frozen over and he was skating on thin ice - and he needed a steady girlfriend. He put his razor down. He was done anyway. He pulled off his jeans and tossed them aside, then absently picked them up and folded them neatly and put them on top of the toilet seat. No need to make a mess, after all.
Pulling open the shower curtain, he began running the taps. “What do you know about this game Vaughn and Susan are running?”
“Game? What game? On whom?”
“You really don’t know?”
“Jack, at this point, I’d tell you anything I knew just so that we could move this along-“
“You’re too easy,” he said with a laugh. Then stared at himself in the mirror. Who was that man and what was he saying? Thinking? Saying?
“Well, that’s the first time I’ve been told that.”
Clearly it was time to misdirect this conversation and his mind away from wherever the hell it was going. From someplace dangerous to...“What did you think about....” Oh, no, someplace else dangerous. What had he been thinking! He quickly stepped into the shower and stuck his head under the water.
“I’ve written you a note,” she said finally.
“A note?” Jack asked, staring at the phone.
“Wait. Are you talking to me from the shower now?”
“Sure. Why not? Time is... Are you there?” He shrugged at the dial tone. Hmph, what was her problem? He had called her once and talked to her while she was in one of her bubble baths and had it bothered him? Noooo.
But..he looked down at himself. It appeared to bother him now. Go figure. But talk about inappropriate. He really needed better control. He needed... to get out of this shower, get dressed, get to work, check on the photocopying pool, and try and figure out his blind spot.
###
Catching sight of her father coming down the hallway and why shouldn’t she, she had been pacing up and down them for over an hour and why was he so late today, anyway?! She grabbed his arm and pulled him into an empty conference.
“Good to see you too, sweetheart. Did you and Vaughn make up after.. whatever it was that upset you last night?”
“Forget about it. Did you get anything out of Vaughn last night?” She wondered just what her father knew.
“Except a headache?” Jack noted, then flexing his left hand, grimaced. And an aching hand after drawing endless designs. The kid was so indecisive. It was ridiculous, how much time he had taken, wanting the design to be perfect. He had told him over and over, that if he made the choice with care and caring, it would be perfect. No need to spend hours deciding, after all. He sighed and said, “No. Unfortunately not.”
“Don’t you mean, Nein, leider nicht?”Sydney said, in her best German.
“Sydney, I hate to tell you this, but your German accent is almost as execrable as your French. You really need to get some language tapes out of the library. Just speak English, please,”
Jack said, only half-joking.
“Well, I thought the German was appropriate. I heard the whole Hogan’s Heroes bit yesterday.”
“Ah, your role in Hogan’s Heroes is Helga, the secretary? Or is it Hilda?” Jack asked, then frowned. There was something wrong with that picture.
“Wait, wait. I think I made a mistake with that choice. Wasn’t Klink’s secretary his girlfriend?”
“Which would make you Kendall’s-“ Jack completed the thought and saw Sydney’s face make a grimace he knew mirrored his own.
“Ew,” they said in unison.
Jack shrugged, “But someone has to like the bald look. Maybe someone his own age.” Maybe, Jack thought not for the first time, that what Kendall really needed was a good ---
“Hey -- maybe Marshall’s mother? Although, the mind boggles at the very notion of setting Kendall up with anyone. But it’s not the baldness, it’s the personality, or lack thereof, Dad.”
Jack shrugged and said with a small smile, “He’s not so bad anymore.”
“Are you drinking heavily again? I’m just asking.”
“Ha. Ha.” Jack rolled his eyes. “Did you talk to Vaughn or Susan since you got to work?”
“Wonder which came first?” Sydney mused with a smile. “Kendall’s loss of personality or the loss of his hair. That’s assuming he ever had either. Maybe he’s bitter because he doesn’t have any hair?”
Jack rolled his eyes, he had asked for more information and the conversation had degenerated into a discussion about hair? Maybe he hadn’t missed so much when she was a teenager after all. He sighed in resignation, “Hair is not something about which I spend a lot of time thinking, sweetheart.”
Sydney sighed. “Men don’t. But it’s important. You know.....” she said, reaching up and touching his hair. “You might think about letting your hair grow out a little. A little more, that is, than you have.”
“What?” What was it with the hair? Maybe it's genetic? Well, she could have inherited worse tendencies from Irina, he supposed. “Who cares?”
“Well,” Sydney said with a smile at the look of masculine disgust on her father’s face. But she had to contain that internal glee that she seemed, for once, to have misdirected him. “The women were talking---”
“What?”
“Women. We were talking about hair.” Sydney flipped the ends of her own as she spoke. “This stuff? Only we were talking about men’s hair. Everyone likes yours.”
“What?”
“Dad, you’re sounding like Vaughn when he’s doing his best imitation of a parrot. That night when I went out with Nia, Susan and Carrie and we were playing with Barbie and Ken, we were talking about hair. Susan pointed out something Carrie and I had already said, that you have great hair and should let it grow.”
“Susan...She didn’t say anything...”
“Don’t worry, I know that creeps you out, but it’s long over,” Sydney said, waving her hand in the air. “That night, which seems like forever ago, she said she was over her crush on you a while ago before that.”
“Thank god! Wait, you knew about that?”
“You’re not the only Bristow who can keep an ear to the ground, you know. Why do you think I was so...agitated that night the four of us went to dinner? I was afraid that I had the wrong intel--”
“Intel?” Jack asked with a small smile.
“Okay, gossip. I was afraid I had the wrong ladies’ room gossip-“ Sydney stopped when Jack rolled his eyes. “Hey! Like men don’t gossip in the men’s bathrooms-“
“Sydney, I can honestly say I’ve never had a conversation about a woman’s hair in the men’s bathroom here or anywhere else.”
“What do you talk about in there?”
“What do we talk about in there? I don’t talk about anything in there. I go in, do my business and- Okay, I’ve been known to occasionally use the bathroom to corner someone and-“
“Threaten them, no doubt. Whatever. But at least that gives one answer to the question of what men do in the bathroom. So, back to Susan, that night I was afraid the ladies’ room gossip was wrong and she wasn’t over her little crush and she was making a play for---”
“Oh, stop. Can we end this conversation! NOW?”
“No. I’m enjoying watching your face turn bright red. It’s amusing.” Sydney grinned. Teasing her father was her new favorite hobby. “I mean, just think, if you’d brought home dates when I was a teenager? I’m sure you weren’t a monk, after all and---”
“For the love of god!” Jack exclaimed, honestly shocked for once. Wait, this was just another ploy in her game in which she’d talk about sex to get the answer to that question. His brow cleared and he crossed his arms and waited.
Sydney grinned. “How did you get the scar, Dad?”
“It’s not gonna happen, Syd. Give it up.” He narrowed his eyes at her. She needed a good swat on her rear end.
“Nope. But what fun that might have been, driving you crazy when I was a teenager.”
“As opposed to now?”
“Oh no. It will be better now. Much better. After all, I can play games too. Not as well as you. But then again, you are so easy to tease in this incarnation of Jack Bristow. This will be enjoyable. For me anyway. What do you think?”
“The mind reels at the possibilities,” Jack said sarcastically. He had to find a way to get payback on her.
“Doesn’t it though? And um,--”
“Okay, what has this conversation been about, really? Surely, hopefully, something more than hair. Spit it out.”
“Well, the hair was just my way of introducing the topic.” She cleared her throat. “I just want you to know that I don’t want you to be alone for the next twenty years---”
“Sydney?” Jack began, looking at her carefully, remembering Vaughn telling him the same thing. He admitted, “I don’t understand why you worry about this. Please go on and live your own life and let me worry---.”
“Stop it. One of the privileges of being in a family is to worry about the happiness of the people you love. Isn’t it?” she demanded, knowing how he worried about her but hid it. Unless of course he was trying to run some game for her own benefit. Once again, she wondered about the difference between manipulation and caring. Vaughn thought manipulation was a harsh word.He preferred meddling. Sydney pressed, “Isn’t it? Don’t you worry about the people you love?” He smiled sheepishly and nodded. “So, I want you to know, that when you find someone, I will try and act like a mature adult about it. No promises, but I’ll try.”
“Unlike the night we went out with Susan?”
“Um, yeah,” Sydney said sheepishly. “Do you know what she said to me in the bathroom?”
“Much appears to happen in women’s bathrooms. But she said, what? Grow up?”
“Pretty much. Even if she’s becoming my best friend, she still has a mouth on her.”
“So did Dave. He told me once,” Jack sighed, “I think I told you this - that I was being a petulant child.”
“All men are children, Dad,” Sydney said smugly, feeling on secure ground with that statement.
“So you have said on previous occasions. Is this crap written down in some women’s manual on men somewhere?” Jack sighed.
“Hmm. Good question. Maybe I should take that topic for my dissertation. What do you think?”
“What do I--- Sydney Bristow, we are never having this conversation again. Is that clear? Perfectly clear?”
“Okay, okay. Don’t get your knickers in a twist. But...how about a quid pro quo? I’ll never mention your dissertation again if you tell me exactly how you got that scar.”
“Good bye,” Jack said with a growl and began to walk away to Sydney’s peel of laughter.
“See you at lunch! Remember we’re all meeting in the cafeteria!”
Then he smiled, looked at Sydney and said, “Oh, wait, sweetheart. I meant to ask--”
“What?” Sydney said suspiciously. Her father had that look of... he was going to pay her back for that attempt to find out the truth about his scar by talking about sex. She could just tell.
“Last night. On a scale of one to ten, how sqwicked out were you?”
“DAD! How did you---”
“You sqwicked me out, I return the favor. Symmetry. I love it,” Jack said smugly and walked away. “Just love it.”
“I thought you loved payback,” Sydney called out snidely.
“True. Symmetry or payback? Hmm. Or... a doubleplay? Symmetrical payback? Points to ponder while I wait for lunch,” Jack said with a smile as he closed the door in Sydney’s face. Well, that should do the trick. He’d give her about three minutes and she’d be calling Midge or Ken wanting a chance at this game. Which would mean that she could rein in any truly idiotic impulses those two might have. Not that he was expecting anything... of true concern, but just in case....
Sydney frowned at the door. He had known what was going to happen last night and had not warned her. Why? She grimaced, was this part of the little game Vaughn insisted existed between the two of them in which Jack was trying to ruin their love life? Or had he just thought it amusing? Or had he wanted Vaughn out of there last night and at his place for some reason? What had they been doing there? What was that jewelry project? Had her father just wanted additional time to press Vaughn, make him nervous? In any case, she thought, as she ground her teeth, her father deserved whatever it was Vaughn was going to do to him. That little s***. Her father, she meant. That particular little s***. He thought he was soooo funny. What was it Vaughn always said to him? Oh yeah, ‘You are less amusing than you imagine.’ Ha. That was true. She needed, she needed.... She had to find a way into the game without showing her hand to either party. Playing dumb usually worked. Hmm. Slowly her face cleared and she flipped open her cell phone. “Midge? It’s Barbie. I know what you are up to. And I want in.”
Part 3
Walking into the bathroom, Jack pulled out his razor and shaving cream. Running the hot water, he dialed the phone and when the archivist answered, albeit grumpily, he stated, “This is Bristow. I know it’s early. I can tell time too. I need a favor. I want copies made of my dissertation and delivered during lunch. Oh and I’d like them in some special folders I’ll have sent over. You’ll know which ones are meant for this purpose - they’ll be bright pink. Thank you. I’ll owe you. Fix a parking ticket? That’s it? Sure, let me know....” He shook his head. Fix a parking ticket? A small price to pay for doing an end run.
###
“Hey, Barbie, it’s Midge. Just calling in to see how you’re doing?”
“I’m tired,” Sydney groaned. “I didn’t sleep much last night. I was afraid of what I might dream---”
“Are you over the sqwick factor now though? Vaughn will have to come home soon before he goes to work--”
“I know. I’m already dressed and ready to go. I don’t want to spend too much time with him this morning or I may... I don’t know what. But I don’t know if I’ll ever recover.”
“Just look at it this way -- he was just trying to learn what you want to please you.”
“But that way?” Sydney said indignantly. “Forget it. I’ll write him a note with instructions or... highlight relevant passages in a romance novel.”
“A romance novel. But... the words they use... Shaft? And---”
“Member? Isn’t that a funny word for that? I mean, I’m always thinking. Member? Is there a club? Do they wear hats? Drive little cars in parades? Run a traveling circus? Have a funny handshake?”
“Hey, who knows what men do in restrooms?”
“Good point. Oops, gotta go. My hero is driving in right now.”
“Ask him if he can introduced me to a member in good standing in the men’s club, why don’t you?” Susan said as she rang off to a peel of laughter from Sydney.
###
“Vaughn, is that you?” Sydney asked as she heard the door to their apartment open.
“Yeah, it’s me. Is it okay to come in?” Vaughn asked from the front door.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?” Sydney asked, still in the bedroom. She began walking out into the living room and watched curiously as Vaughn darted into the living room himself. What was he doing?
“Well, last night....” he said, loudly, obviously not realizing how close she was.
“Was last night. My father told me you spent the night there?” Sydney confirmed, smiling as she remembered the amusement in her father’s voice during his quick phone call while Vaughn was, he said, ‘busy with a furrowed forehead while he contemplated his choices.’ She wasn’t quite sure she wanted to know what kind of options her father had presented to Vaughn, but apparently it had nothing to do with this game in motion or he would have told her.
“Yeah. I slept on his couch,” Vaughn explained, quickly opening the drawer on an end table and pulling out a pack of cards. “I’m sorry for whatever it was that I did-“
“It’s okay,” Sydney said, lying through her teeth, as she loudly clomped into the living room and pretended she did not see Vaughn zipping his briefcase closed. Did he think she was the worst spy ever, or what? “But what did you and my father do? Watch a hockey game?”
“It’s July. It’s not hockey season,” Vaughn reminded her as he pulled his clothes off on the way to the bathroom. At least not in this hemisphere. Did they have hockey in Australia? If he batted zero with a second Bristow in two days, he might be emigrating there tomorrow and that background information might just come in handy. But, no, he had done all the necessary background research. This was going to be a good day. After all, Jack hadn’t killed him last night when he had turned the page for the fifth or... was it fiftieth time.... in his pad. Good thing Jack had so many sharpened pencils around.
“But, what did you two do then? The gun range?” Sydney asked, following him into the bathroom, picking up the mess along the way and throwing it into the hamper. Honestly, couldn’t he pick up his own damn clothes?
“No. We, um, worked on a jewelry project,” he said, his back to her as he ripped open the shower curtain. Then winced as he heard the hamper lid snap down a little too hard. Oops. He had forgotten how Sydney did not like any mess. Jack had told him a million times it was easier to remember the little things that drove a woman crazy and not do them rather than deal with the repercussions. Great, he was already in the dog house and now he’d thrown clothes on the floor. Who knew when he’d have sex again? He sighed and turned the water to a colder setting.
Hot Look Ken was not this much trouble, Sydney griped to herself as she slammed the hamper lid down. Although, she thought, smiling, Hot Look Ken did not look as good from the back as her own Ken. And even though Hot Look Ken was twelve inches, none of those were fully functional inches. So, there were compensations to her own Ken. “I’m glad to see you home, Vaughn,” she ventured.
He popped his head around the curtain and gave her a surprised smile in return. “Me too. I mean I’m glad to be home. Do you...want to join me?” he offered.
“Sorry, but I’m already ready and I need to get to work.” And besides, I’m not over the sqwickiness of last night, she thought, and occupied herself with folding the already-folded towels. “So, you and my father worked on a jewelry project last night? What kind?”
“Um. A new one. He’s trying something new...” Vaughn said and turned the shower on to a hotter setting with more water pressure. Maybe she would give up with the onslaught of noise. Please, give up, don’t ask me any more.
But, hmm. Um? That usually meant Vaughn was nervous or was not telling the entire truth. ‘A jewelry project’? Oh, must be a Christmas gift for her or something. Which was not what she wanted. Damn it.
“Turn on the fan!” Sydney said irritably, flicking the switch near the shower. “It’s as hot and humid in here as.... as last month in Sri Lanka. That... clearing we went to.”
What now, he thought, no, let’s be honest, whined to himself. What had he done wrong now? He protested, “I thought you liked that hike, that place Zamir and your father told us about.”
“Yes. It was beautiful. The sunrise just as we got to the clearing, the sound of the waterfall, the greenery, the flowers, the scent of the flowers...Beautiful.”
Of course, it would have been more beautiful she thought, slamming the medicine cabinet door, if he had proposed in that setting, now wouldn’t it? Was he ever going to propose? Should she do it herself? No, no, she would not. There were just some things that the man should do. Take out garbage. Kill bugs. Put up the Christmas tree. Give a girl a decent orgasm. All things she could do on her own, but why? That was why you had a man around. Not for their stunning insights into human motivations or need or...she thought, remembering last night, their good sense. Yuck.
“Um, Syd, honey. If that was such a good memory, why are you repeatedly slamming the medicine cabinet door?”
“Oh, just shower and let’s put this game in play,” Sydney growled and slammed out of the bathroom.
“What?!” He turned off the shower with a jerk. Grabbing a towel, he stepped out and opened the door with a jerk.
“Don’t squeak. It’s unattractive in a man,” Sydney yelled back at him, as she realized she had nearly made an error and hoped the comment originally from Jack Bristow would distract him---
He called out, “What did you say?”
s***, she thought, she was not her father. He was still on point. Misdirect, her father would say. She thought quickly and responded, “I said, just shower and it’s a shame you didn’t stay to play-“
“Play what?”
“Barbies with me last night.”
“Geez! Those damn dolls!” Vaughn growled and slammed the door closed. He swore, one day, he’d get rid of those dolls. There were not going to be any of those dolls in his, no their, house when they got married. Nope, they were having boys, all boys and they would play hockey. And baseball. And smash trucks into each other. And no dolls. No Barbies with their creepy smiles and staring eyes and emasculated boyfriends. Nope. No dolls.
Sydney smiled as she started her car. Her father was right. The Barbie game, and misdirection, always worked on Michael Vaughn.
###
“Hey, it’s me,” Sydney said.
“Hey, me,” Jack said, smiling as he spoke into the phone.
“Thanks again for calling and letting me know that Vaughn was at your place last night.”
“No problem. Didn’t want you to worry. Like he did. He had bad dreams all night,” Jack rolled his eyes. “He kept waking me up with his endless yapping in his sleep, ‘No! Not the pink footie pajamas!’ Want to tell me what that’s about?”
“Um. No, actually, I don’t.”
Jack smiled again. And taking pity on her asked, ”Did you get anything from him this morning?”
“No. He came in, took a pack of cards out of the end table, showered, and then I left.”
“A pack of cards? Why in the world would he...Wait. The last time we all played cards, a couple of months ago, at the Op Center while waiting for some intel to come in from the field....”
“He was asking about those card parties you all had when you were young. Yes, I remember that.”
“But what would that have to do with... anything?” Jack mused. “Damn it. Why can’t I see this? Should I ask Judy her opinion? Or is it just so subtle that....”
“Susan is not subtle, Dad, so....”
“What do you think about this notion - this lunch with everyone that Vaughn is so eager to arrange.....”
“Lunch. Today. What in the world could they be planning?”
“I can’t figure it out. Not really. Not anything I’d believe, let’s say. Is there anything you can imagine that Vaughn would gain from running some game on me?” He had an idea, but he could not really believe that Vaughn would attempt this and even if he would, with whom? And at lunch? In the Agency cafeteria? Was he just being blind? Was it so obvious he was missing it? “What in the world could Vaughn gain by running a game on me?”
“I cannot think of what....” Sydney frowned, as she thought. Wait. Vaughn seemed jealous, occasionally, of the time spent with her father. How did she spend time with her father? Shopping, endlessly, for a house. But when he bought a house, she’d probably help him decorate it and then work on a garden with him, at least occasionally, so buying a house would net Vaughn nothing. He had whined once or twice, okay, many times, when she would pace on those rare occasions her father had a date. Always a first date, never a second.
She smiled, remembering the last time, how Vaughn had tried to distract her from her worries by asking her questions about how her parents had met, how they had dated...Wait. No. He wouldn’t. Would he? “Hmm.Oh, boy, this could get interesting,” she said aloud. Interesting or messy. Oh well, her father wouldn’t kill Vaughn. Would he? No, just make him uncomfortable. Then she bit her lip, well, Vaughn had been plenty uncomfortable last night, hadn’t he? Her father had gotten his payback in advance and he didn’t even know it. Well, at least she thought he didn’t know it. She was certainly not going to tell him that Vaughn had tried to use the manual on her. Yuck. She shuddered again and groaned.. Maybe Vaughn should sleep at Eric’s tonight.
“Have you thought of something? You said interesting,” Jack asked, knowing he had heard her thinking aloud, wondering if he had just heard a click before that shudder. What an idiot Vaughn had been to try and use that manual on Sydney. Ha, he’d gotten payback and he hadn’t even had to try. Karma was a wonderful force of nature, wasn’t it?
“Maybe, but... No.” She shook her head. “Well, we’ll find out soon enough, I guess.”
“I guess. Oh, I almost forgot. Since everyone’s going to be at lunch, I thought we should call Susan and invite her. Make that introduction with Weiss finally?” Jack suggested.
“A set up? Sure. Good idea. But...do you want to press her for information?”
“No. Why bother? She’ll never crack under pressure. I’ll call and invite her to lunch---”
“She’s coming anyway, you just know that,” Sydney asserted.
“I know. But the call will make her nervous,” Jack said happily.
“Dad,” Sydney giggled. “You are a bad, bad man. I do love this stuff.”
“Me too. So, I’ll get her there early and introduce her to Weiss. He’ll distract her - he’s good at that and this will be natural --- and that will leave Vaughn more or less on his own.”
“Okay,” Sydney nodded. “This should be interesting. If not fun.”
“Possibly. We’ll see who survives it.”
“The game?”
“And the cafeteria food. Why did it have to be there?” Jack mused, then shook his head. He felt like an idiot, why could he not see whatever it was? He wondered as he and Sydney said goodbye. She was off to work early, wasn’t she? Had it really been that bad last night? Or maybe, he just didn’t want to think about that, anyway. Time to move along.
###
“Susan, it’s Jack.”
“Hi, Jack! Why are you up so early?” Susan asked. Two Bristow phone calls in a row. What a way to get the heart rate up first thing in the morning.
“It’s not early. I’ve been up for hours. But I’m calling to ask this. What are you doing?”
She paused and then decided to go with the obvious. No point in giving away the game if he was just making conversation. Although, did Jack just ever make conversation? Well, let’s pretend, she decided. She was a woman, she could fake it with a man, after all. “Walking my dog. Did I ever tell you how healthy it is to have a pet and--”
“I don’t care about your animal, Susan. I care about-“
“Well, you should care, let me tell you that you would benefit from---.”
“Susan, don’t give me another lecture on how I need a pet. I let you drag me to your book group on occasion and last time, last time, we were reading some Nora Roberts snooze fest and-“
“Jack, why are you calling?”
“I’m calling because I’d like you to come a little early to the little lunch Vaughn has set up today.”
She paused. This was a ploy. He knew something. How much did he know? Sydney had not mentioned anything about her father knowing... But, she had to proceed cautiously. No need to tip one’s hand. “ ‘Set up?’” she asked as lightly as she could.
“Yes, set up,” Jack said blandly. Susan winced. He knew something alright. Sydney had not told her that. Then she brightened when he added, “I’m thinking of lunch that way, because there is someone with whom I’d like to set you up.”
“Huh?” Susan said in desperation. What was he doing?
“You are clearly spending too much time with Vaughn. His inarticularity is apparently contagious.”
“Is inarticularity a word?” Susan scoffed.
“If not, it should be. Perhaps I’ll write a new dictionary in my spare time.”
“A new dictionary?”
“Yes. With words like inarticularity and sqwick in them,” Jack said with a smile in his voice.
Susan giggled. “Sqwick.” Sydney had been so totally freaked out last night with Vaughn’s choice to use her father’s methods on her.
“Oh and another word should be in my dictionary,” Jack said blandly.
“Which is what?”
“Payback.”
“Jack! You’ll-“
“See you at lunch,” he said brightly. “Bye.”
Then listening carefully as she trailed off saying to herself, “But he will thank us, I know he will.”
“In which case-“
“You heard that?” Susan exclaimed in shock.
“It’s never wise to sever a connection prematurely,” Jack said smugly.
“Jack...” She ground her teeth. Suddenly she knew why Judy had bitten pencils before her sessions with Jack and threw pencils at him to this day. “I’d like to smack you myself.”
“Ah, Judy with her pencils, you with the smacking, Sydney’s smartmouth. I seem to inspire strong reactions in the women around me. It’s a gift.”
“Use it for good instead of evil, why don’t you?”
“I’m enjoying myself. It’s one of my little pleasures in life.”
“Like payback?”
“Well, it doesn’t have to be payback. If you think I will thank you, in that case, it won’t be payback, it will be a payment on a debt owed. But then again, it’s your choice. Your... interpretation. Your personal taste. Of what I’m about to do. Not the jello in the lunch room.”
“Jack! What are you about to do?”
“You’ll find out at lunch,” Jack said softly and hung up. Jack shook his head. It was really too bad of him to scare Susan like that. He had heard her little gasp as he hung up. But... it was one of his little pleasures. Hmm, maybe, Vaughn was right and he needed.... Well, he wasn’t going to go that far, he thought as he dialed a number on his phone.
###
Sylvester Kendall looked into the mirror and smiled widely, inspecting his teeth. When his phone rang, he picked it up and still gazing at himself, said, “Kendall.”
“It’s Vaughn. You are coming to lunch with us today, correct?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this little meddling game of yours for the world, Vaughn,” Kendall said, running his hand over his head. Hmm, maybe it needed a touch up with the razor. Stubble would not do. He shrugged. He had more to worry about today than the shine on his head. He smiled as he said, “You don’t seem to have the survival instincts the other half of your Gruesome Twosome does. So... Just one question before lunch. Do you prefer open casket funeral or a simple cremation?”
####
“Jack? Hi, what’s shaking?” Weiss asked as he walked his dog and noted that his hand had begun shaking the moment he had seen the caller ID.
“Shaking? I don’t shake anything at any time, Eric.”
“Well, that’s too bad. Didn’t you grow up in the sixties and seventies? Didn’t you all have a dance called the Frug?”
“The what?”
“Never mind. But you have been loosening up lately. You’ve even dangled a preposition or two.”
“Luckily, that’s the only thing I... dangle. Now, on to business.”
“What business?” Weiss asked. Then protested, “I’m just here walking my dog, minding my own business, while he does his.”
“Ah. The business of wielding a pooper scooper. A fine use of your talents,” Jack noted.
“As in, that’s what I’ll be doing for a living if I don’t help you in some way, correct?”
“All I really want you to do is show up for lunch,” Jack asserted. “In case you were thinking of hiding somewhere.”
“How did you know?” Weiss stopped and stared at his phone. Jack scared him sometimes. He knew people too well. If not himself, as this lunch would no doubt prove if his own suspicions were correct.
“Actually, I want you to come to lunch because there’s someone I want you to meet.”
“Who? I hope.... Is it that blonde that hauled you out of the Op Center that day? Please tell me it is. I could love a woman like that.”
“Yes, it’s her.”
“I have wanted to meet her ever since that day. I will so owe you,” Weiss moaned.
“Yes. You will,” Jack said succinctly.
“Okay,” Weiss sighed.”What do you want, Jack?”
“Ah, you see the point?”
“I’m no idiot. I’m trying to stay out of this.”
“I know that. That’s why I’ve come to you. Because I know you are not an idiot and you know bloodshed may occur.”
“Not at lunch, afterwards.”
“Afterwards? What do you know?”
“We’re all supposed to meet in the bathroom afterwards. That’s all I know. I was holding something back in case I needed it. Are we even?”
“We’ll see,” Jack said and hung up. Ha! he thought. He knew he should have done the interrogation himself. He had clearer vision than Sydney when it came to extracting information, sometimes a quid pro quo was all that was needed. Now, if he could just ascertain what his blind spot was....
###
“Sydney...what is my blind spot?” Jack asked without preamble when Sydney answered her phone.
“Your blind spot?” Sydney frowned as she negotiated a turn that would lead off of the highway onto the surface streets.
“Yes. Why can I not figure this out? There must be a reason, it must be my blind spot.”
“I’m not sure, Dad. You have so many. There’s the business about not being in touch with your emotions....”
“Oh, for the love of-“
“There’s your complete inability to pick out a house-“
“I’m buying one-“
“Dad. We’ve look at seventy-four houses. Seventy-four! There’s picky and then there’s bordering on---”
“Actually, Syd, I asked Judy to look at-“
“To say nothing of your inability to order flowers in a timely fashion.”
“Okay, you have me there,” Jack said glumly. “Sorry about yesterday. I thought it would take five minutes.”
“An hour and a half later....” Sydney reminded him with a grin.
“I know, I know,” he muttered, then ran a hand through his hair.
“But... really. What was that about?”
Putting the extra pillow and blanket away, Jack commented absently,“Don’t dangle your prepositions.”
“Oh, c’mon. Who says, about what was that?”
“I would.”
“When you’ve got a stick shoved up your-“
“Sydney Bristow!” Jack exclaimed, slamming the door to the linen closet in the hallway with unnecessary force.
“Answer the question,” Sydney gritted out. Honestly, she wasn’t sure what was worse. This obtuseness that had to be deliberate or that formality he used to affect when he felt nervous or anxious. He had dropped that when she had pointed it out, deciding that it was a weakness and gave away his vulnerability in a game or negotiation.
“What question?”
“What. Was. That. About?” Sydney gritted out. He said he was not nervous about this game, but something was going on. Had been going on ever since she had seen him pacing in the florist shop, running his hands through his hair. “Dad. What was that about? The vacillation before the case of exotics?”
“I don’t know. If I knew, I would know. But I don’t know, so I don’t know. Now, anyway. I have a feeling---”
“Dad...What was that?” Sydney said incredulously. “You were just... inarticulate. Have you been spending time with Marshall?”
“No, Vaughn.” Jack said, clearly annoyed. “But apparently Marshall has been spending time inside my head.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Your little boyfriend was showing Marshall my dissertation last night,” Jack told her.
“What?! He showed innocent little Marshall that, that...”
“Yes,” Jack clipped out. “I shudder to think what impact that might have had on the boy.”
###
“Carrie, when I made such a simple request for information, I have to admit that I never expected such detailed instructions,” Marshall said, turning his head to face her.
“You’re still in shock, aren’t you, Marshall?” Carrie asked, giggling at Marshall’s coherent verbalization.
“Totally. Completely. Absolutely. You know, I really like Jack’s rule about why should one use only one word when you can use three, don’t you? But,” he said looking at his watch, “Jack asked me to devise a security system for his new place and I really should get up,” Marshall noted.
“Yes. You should,” Carrie said with a grin. She reached her hand out, but stopped when Marshall’s phone rang.
“It’s Vaughn. Just checking to ensure that you are coming to lunch with us today. And do you know if Carrie can make it?”
“Sure. Let me ask-“
“Ask? She’s there? With you? At 6am? In the morning?” Vaughn asked incredulously.
“Yes, yes, yes. And oh, yes.”
“How? Why?”
“I think you know the why. At least I hope you know the why. If you don’t know the why, perhaps that explains why Jack doesn’t have any grandchildren yet. Although of course, you better propose to Sydney first. I mean, actually get married before the grandchildren arrive. I mean Jack would accept it, but why push your luck? I mean, with Jack pushing your luck is not the best move. Or even a better move. Or a good move. Get it? Good, better, best? Get it, got it, Good? What would you say, Carrie?”
Carrie sighed. He was back to normal. Well, she decided, giving his cheek a kiss, he was kinda cute, after all. Speaking up, she said, “I’d say Vaughn should propose to make him and Sydney happy, not to please anyone else. And I’d also say that if Vaughn was smart he’d do it sooner rather than later before either of the Bristows lose patience. And I’d also tell him thank you from me for showing you that manual,” Carrie said loudly enough for Vaughn to hear. She threw back the covers and walked toward the bathroom.
Vaughn spluttered, “It worked on Carrie. When you did it. When YOU did it. Carrie liked it?”
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t it? Don’t tell me...”
“I, I who gave you the stinkin’ manual spent the night on Jack’s couch!”
“Well, that’s odd. Although Jack did mention in his introduction that individual variables can account for results outside the norm... Not that I want to know about Sydney’s individual variables if you know what I mean. I have enough to think about for a lifetime with Carrie’s individual variables, thank you very much. Not that there’s anything... weird or unusual, because there’s not. Not that I would really know. But instinct would tell you. But maybe instinct flies out the window when you...” he dropped his voice to a whisper. “Love someone. But maybe love is the ultimate instinct? But then why are people so stupid about love if it’s an instinct---”
“Because they screw up, Marshall! Remember the blind spot? Or they have weaknesses or stupid priorities---”
“Speaking of priorities, when are you going to propose to Sydney? I would think that would be a high priority? Aren’t you the one always nodding when Jack is telling someone to seize the moment? So, what’s the hold up? I mean, don’t you have the money for a ring? I can loan you some. I have some money, well, a lot of money, socked away from some of my patents but---”
“Marshall, I told you before. I just can’t, couldn’t find the perfect ring.”
“But...as long as you chose it with love, wouldn’t that make it perfect?”
“So someone else told me. Last night,” Vaughn sighed. “I want it to be special. Unique. And now---”
“But...after last night, I’m thinking you may need more than a ring. You should ask Jack, he’s the jewelry man. But I still don’t know why that manual didn’t work. You would think... I mean, genetics being what they are.... I mean. Wait a minute. Do you think Sydney knows? About the dissertation?” He dropped his voice and give a furtive look in the direction of the bathroom where he heard the shower go on. Why was he sitting here talking to Vaughn, anyway?
“Marshall, Marshall, are you there? What were you saying?” Vaughn asked in confusion. Marshall could not have said what he thought he said, could he?
“Sydney,” Marshall answered absently as he began walking toward the bathroom. “Maybe she knows about the manual and if you used it on her...Total sqwick.”
“Well, but how would she know? Jack would never tell her about it,” Vaughn protested. He would not, could not. That would blow his entire protective cover to shreds. He’d be relying on Jack’s good will and... He’d be dead. So dead. Or wishing he were dead.
“Whatever. Later,” Marshall said and clicked the phone closed. Not realizing he was no longer speaking into a live line, he mumbled, “Unless she decided to take her father’s advice and do some background research. I mean, that dissertation is listed right there in the Archives’ database. Anyone could see it. Anyone with a decent security clearance can look at that dissertation. Vaughn?” Oh, he realized looking down at the phone, he had accidentally turned it off. Well, if Vaughn had half a brain he would realize that Jack already knew that he, Marshall knew. But then again if Vaughn knew that Jack knew, he would know....Huh? He was confusing himself. If Jack were smart, which Jack was, he would be planning an end run or two on Vaughn right now. But right now, he had Carrie in the bathroom in a shower. Maybe she’d tell him a thing or two again, he hoped as he opened the bathroom door. Smiling, he said, “I really owe Jack a favor.”
“As do I,” Carrie smiled as she pulled the shower curtain open.
###
Shaking the can of shaving cream with one hand, he shook his head. That had been too easy, fixing that parking ticket. What a waste of his talents, he thought, rolling his eyes at himself in the mirror. But then again, he had been wasting his talents for quite a while now.
Punching a number on his speed dial with the other, he smiled as the other person answered. Putting the phone on speaker, he set it on the sink and began lathering his face.
“Why are you calling me at the crack of dawn? And why do you do this? Call me in the middle of the night?”
“It’s not the middle of the night.”
“It was last week when you called at 3am and gave me a heart attack.”
He grinned. She had been scared and then so angry. That had been good. He had been anticipating that little joke forever. And it had been so worth it. Her reaction had been all that he could have wanted. Then he sighed, clearly he needed to get a life or... Move along, Bristow. “You’re too easily startled,” he said picking up his razor.
“You’re too easily amused. I know that was a line of crap, that you forgot the time difference in Denver and called me from...wherever the hell it was you were calling.”
“I’m impressed. It’s not even 6am and you didn’t dangle the preposition.”
“I’m starting to wonder about your fetish about...dangling.”
“What?!” He held onto his razor carefully, he had almost slit his own throat that time.
“Sometimes,” she sighed, “You can be as thick as a brick.” Then she bit her lip, no, she would not say anything.
“You know, that’s partly why I called.”
“Because...you’re thick as -“
“This is starting to sound vaguely...prurient and I’m sure you didn’t intend that-“ He stopped when she... was it, snorted? No, the water running in the sink must be masking or distorting her words. He turned the spigot off. “I called, wanting to ask you two questions.”
“Well, it’s five minutes later and I’ve heard no questions.”
“You distract me.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing? You tell me, you are the one who watches Martha Stewart.”
“Sydney and I enjoy analyzing how deep her control freak tendencies are on any given day. But, I told you that months ago. Many, many months ago. And you remember that?”
“I review my notes of our conversations on a regular basis. You know, for that paper I’m writing?”
“Very amusing.”
“Yes, they...amuse me when I have insomnia.”
“Surely you can find something better-“
“True. I could always get my copy of your dissertation out-“
“Well, that answers that question.”
“Was that one of your questions?”
“No.” He sighed and picked up the razor again. “I wanted to know what you thought was my blind spot. I know, you’re going to say-“
“Your-“
“You’re about to say," he paused and began again using a higher voice, " 'Wait a minute-“
“Emotions.”
“There are so many-“
“Knowing-“
“I’ll get back to you with a list.'" He stopped and resumed his normal voice, "But, I’d really like to know-“
“Your own emotions.”
“Emotions, shmotions.”
“What did you say? Are you drinking heavily again?”
“Of course not. I don’t have enough time to drink. But Vaughn last night...” He laughed. “But I’m not talking about emotions. I’m talking about the way in which Vaughn and Susan could be running a game on me. Something happened yesterday-“
“Yesterday?”
“Yes. And I would appreciate it if you would divulge any information you might have---” He began shaving again and then noted that his eyes seemed...was it...Well, he wasn’t worried about this game, so why did he appear anxious, like a young... He shook his head. Maybe he needed some coffee?
“Why so formal? And information on what topic? Please, not on that movie we saw a few weeks ago. It’s too early in the morning to debate the plausibility of molecular transponders.”
“Nah. Besides, I thought we already established that the use of that technology was a cheap sci-fi stunt to get from point A to point B in the plot and not worth discussing?” He scraped the razor along his chin.
“True. But as I said, it’s early in the morning and I’m just not up for one of your games. And-are you shaving while you’re talking to me?”
“Sure, I can do two things at once. It’s one of my many gifts.”
“The female mind boggles at the possibilities implied by that statement.”
His hand stopped in midstroke. Then he shook his head, he must be imagining... connotations where none existed. Desperately, he blurted, “I just got Vaughn out of here.”
“Why was Vaughn there?”
“Sydney kicked him out last night. Dollars to doughnuts he tried to use... Oh, never mind.”
“Just tell me what you want, already.”
Jack sighed, as he finished shaving, “I’ve waited twenty years for someone to say that to me again and mean it and it’s over the phone in a snotty tone. Life is so unfair.”
There was a long silence then, “Life is full of inequity. Get over it.”
“But don’t you think we might discuss-“
“Jack, it’s not even six am. Just tell me what you want.”
“I think I’m enjoying this.”
“Just remember, payback is a b****.”
“Given that you’re speaking about yourself in that context, you would know.”
“You know...”
He grinned. He could actually hear her opening her nightstand drawer, or so he imagined, looking for---
“Jack. I’ll tell you this one time. You’ll enjoy life a lot less if you don’t-“
“Define enjoy life a lot less. Because as you know, I have had ridiculously low expectations in the past and-“
“Jonathan Donahue Bristow... Okay, you win. You win. Just tell me before I scream.”
He bit his lip as he forced himself to not say the word that were dying to tumble out of his mouth, ‘This is not how I’d like to make you scream.’ And what the hell was up with that? Why had he even thought those words? With her? He needed better control. Or maybe Vaughn was right - and clearly hell had frozen over and he was skating on thin ice - and he needed a steady girlfriend. He put his razor down. He was done anyway. He pulled off his jeans and tossed them aside, then absently picked them up and folded them neatly and put them on top of the toilet seat. No need to make a mess, after all.
Pulling open the shower curtain, he began running the taps. “What do you know about this game Vaughn and Susan are running?”
“Game? What game? On whom?”
“You really don’t know?”
“Jack, at this point, I’d tell you anything I knew just so that we could move this along-“
“You’re too easy,” he said with a laugh. Then stared at himself in the mirror. Who was that man and what was he saying? Thinking? Saying?
“Well, that’s the first time I’ve been told that.”
Clearly it was time to misdirect this conversation and his mind away from wherever the hell it was going. From someplace dangerous to...“What did you think about....” Oh, no, someplace else dangerous. What had he been thinking! He quickly stepped into the shower and stuck his head under the water.
“I’ve written you a note,” she said finally.
“A note?” Jack asked, staring at the phone.
“Wait. Are you talking to me from the shower now?”
“Sure. Why not? Time is... Are you there?” He shrugged at the dial tone. Hmph, what was her problem? He had called her once and talked to her while she was in one of her bubble baths and had it bothered him? Noooo.
But..he looked down at himself. It appeared to bother him now. Go figure. But talk about inappropriate. He really needed better control. He needed... to get out of this shower, get dressed, get to work, check on the photocopying pool, and try and figure out his blind spot.
###
Catching sight of her father coming down the hallway and why shouldn’t she, she had been pacing up and down them for over an hour and why was he so late today, anyway?! She grabbed his arm and pulled him into an empty conference.
“Good to see you too, sweetheart. Did you and Vaughn make up after.. whatever it was that upset you last night?”
“Forget about it. Did you get anything out of Vaughn last night?” She wondered just what her father knew.
“Except a headache?” Jack noted, then flexing his left hand, grimaced. And an aching hand after drawing endless designs. The kid was so indecisive. It was ridiculous, how much time he had taken, wanting the design to be perfect. He had told him over and over, that if he made the choice with care and caring, it would be perfect. No need to spend hours deciding, after all. He sighed and said, “No. Unfortunately not.”
“Don’t you mean, Nein, leider nicht?”Sydney said, in her best German.
“Sydney, I hate to tell you this, but your German accent is almost as execrable as your French. You really need to get some language tapes out of the library. Just speak English, please,”
Jack said, only half-joking.
“Well, I thought the German was appropriate. I heard the whole Hogan’s Heroes bit yesterday.”
“Ah, your role in Hogan’s Heroes is Helga, the secretary? Or is it Hilda?” Jack asked, then frowned. There was something wrong with that picture.
“Wait, wait. I think I made a mistake with that choice. Wasn’t Klink’s secretary his girlfriend?”
“Which would make you Kendall’s-“ Jack completed the thought and saw Sydney’s face make a grimace he knew mirrored his own.
“Ew,” they said in unison.
Jack shrugged, “But someone has to like the bald look. Maybe someone his own age.” Maybe, Jack thought not for the first time, that what Kendall really needed was a good ---
“Hey -- maybe Marshall’s mother? Although, the mind boggles at the very notion of setting Kendall up with anyone. But it’s not the baldness, it’s the personality, or lack thereof, Dad.”
Jack shrugged and said with a small smile, “He’s not so bad anymore.”
“Are you drinking heavily again? I’m just asking.”
“Ha. Ha.” Jack rolled his eyes. “Did you talk to Vaughn or Susan since you got to work?”
“Wonder which came first?” Sydney mused with a smile. “Kendall’s loss of personality or the loss of his hair. That’s assuming he ever had either. Maybe he’s bitter because he doesn’t have any hair?”
Jack rolled his eyes, he had asked for more information and the conversation had degenerated into a discussion about hair? Maybe he hadn’t missed so much when she was a teenager after all. He sighed in resignation, “Hair is not something about which I spend a lot of time thinking, sweetheart.”
Sydney sighed. “Men don’t. But it’s important. You know.....” she said, reaching up and touching his hair. “You might think about letting your hair grow out a little. A little more, that is, than you have.”
“What?” What was it with the hair? Maybe it's genetic? Well, she could have inherited worse tendencies from Irina, he supposed. “Who cares?”
“Well,” Sydney said with a smile at the look of masculine disgust on her father’s face. But she had to contain that internal glee that she seemed, for once, to have misdirected him. “The women were talking---”
“What?”
“Women. We were talking about hair.” Sydney flipped the ends of her own as she spoke. “This stuff? Only we were talking about men’s hair. Everyone likes yours.”
“What?”
“Dad, you’re sounding like Vaughn when he’s doing his best imitation of a parrot. That night when I went out with Nia, Susan and Carrie and we were playing with Barbie and Ken, we were talking about hair. Susan pointed out something Carrie and I had already said, that you have great hair and should let it grow.”
“Susan...She didn’t say anything...”
“Don’t worry, I know that creeps you out, but it’s long over,” Sydney said, waving her hand in the air. “That night, which seems like forever ago, she said she was over her crush on you a while ago before that.”
“Thank god! Wait, you knew about that?”
“You’re not the only Bristow who can keep an ear to the ground, you know. Why do you think I was so...agitated that night the four of us went to dinner? I was afraid that I had the wrong intel--”
“Intel?” Jack asked with a small smile.
“Okay, gossip. I was afraid I had the wrong ladies’ room gossip-“ Sydney stopped when Jack rolled his eyes. “Hey! Like men don’t gossip in the men’s bathrooms-“
“Sydney, I can honestly say I’ve never had a conversation about a woman’s hair in the men’s bathroom here or anywhere else.”
“What do you talk about in there?”
“What do we talk about in there? I don’t talk about anything in there. I go in, do my business and- Okay, I’ve been known to occasionally use the bathroom to corner someone and-“
“Threaten them, no doubt. Whatever. But at least that gives one answer to the question of what men do in the bathroom. So, back to Susan, that night I was afraid the ladies’ room gossip was wrong and she wasn’t over her little crush and she was making a play for---”
“Oh, stop. Can we end this conversation! NOW?”
“No. I’m enjoying watching your face turn bright red. It’s amusing.” Sydney grinned. Teasing her father was her new favorite hobby. “I mean, just think, if you’d brought home dates when I was a teenager? I’m sure you weren’t a monk, after all and---”
“For the love of god!” Jack exclaimed, honestly shocked for once. Wait, this was just another ploy in her game in which she’d talk about sex to get the answer to that question. His brow cleared and he crossed his arms and waited.
Sydney grinned. “How did you get the scar, Dad?”
“It’s not gonna happen, Syd. Give it up.” He narrowed his eyes at her. She needed a good swat on her rear end.
“Nope. But what fun that might have been, driving you crazy when I was a teenager.”
“As opposed to now?”
“Oh no. It will be better now. Much better. After all, I can play games too. Not as well as you. But then again, you are so easy to tease in this incarnation of Jack Bristow. This will be enjoyable. For me anyway. What do you think?”
“The mind reels at the possibilities,” Jack said sarcastically. He had to find a way to get payback on her.
“Doesn’t it though? And um,--”
“Okay, what has this conversation been about, really? Surely, hopefully, something more than hair. Spit it out.”
“Well, the hair was just my way of introducing the topic.” She cleared her throat. “I just want you to know that I don’t want you to be alone for the next twenty years---”
“Sydney?” Jack began, looking at her carefully, remembering Vaughn telling him the same thing. He admitted, “I don’t understand why you worry about this. Please go on and live your own life and let me worry---.”
“Stop it. One of the privileges of being in a family is to worry about the happiness of the people you love. Isn’t it?” she demanded, knowing how he worried about her but hid it. Unless of course he was trying to run some game for her own benefit. Once again, she wondered about the difference between manipulation and caring. Vaughn thought manipulation was a harsh word.He preferred meddling. Sydney pressed, “Isn’t it? Don’t you worry about the people you love?” He smiled sheepishly and nodded. “So, I want you to know, that when you find someone, I will try and act like a mature adult about it. No promises, but I’ll try.”
“Unlike the night we went out with Susan?”
“Um, yeah,” Sydney said sheepishly. “Do you know what she said to me in the bathroom?”
“Much appears to happen in women’s bathrooms. But she said, what? Grow up?”
“Pretty much. Even if she’s becoming my best friend, she still has a mouth on her.”
“So did Dave. He told me once,” Jack sighed, “I think I told you this - that I was being a petulant child.”
“All men are children, Dad,” Sydney said smugly, feeling on secure ground with that statement.
“So you have said on previous occasions. Is this crap written down in some women’s manual on men somewhere?” Jack sighed.
“Hmm. Good question. Maybe I should take that topic for my dissertation. What do you think?”
“What do I--- Sydney Bristow, we are never having this conversation again. Is that clear? Perfectly clear?”
“Okay, okay. Don’t get your knickers in a twist. But...how about a quid pro quo? I’ll never mention your dissertation again if you tell me exactly how you got that scar.”
“Good bye,” Jack said with a growl and began to walk away to Sydney’s peel of laughter.
“See you at lunch! Remember we’re all meeting in the cafeteria!”
Then he smiled, looked at Sydney and said, “Oh, wait, sweetheart. I meant to ask--”
“What?” Sydney said suspiciously. Her father had that look of... he was going to pay her back for that attempt to find out the truth about his scar by talking about sex. She could just tell.
“Last night. On a scale of one to ten, how sqwicked out were you?”
“DAD! How did you---”
“You sqwicked me out, I return the favor. Symmetry. I love it,” Jack said smugly and walked away. “Just love it.”
“I thought you loved payback,” Sydney called out snidely.
“True. Symmetry or payback? Hmm. Or... a doubleplay? Symmetrical payback? Points to ponder while I wait for lunch,” Jack said with a smile as he closed the door in Sydney’s face. Well, that should do the trick. He’d give her about three minutes and she’d be calling Midge or Ken wanting a chance at this game. Which would mean that she could rein in any truly idiotic impulses those two might have. Not that he was expecting anything... of true concern, but just in case....
Sydney frowned at the door. He had known what was going to happen last night and had not warned her. Why? She grimaced, was this part of the little game Vaughn insisted existed between the two of them in which Jack was trying to ruin their love life? Or had he just thought it amusing? Or had he wanted Vaughn out of there last night and at his place for some reason? What had they been doing there? What was that jewelry project? Had her father just wanted additional time to press Vaughn, make him nervous? In any case, she thought, as she ground her teeth, her father deserved whatever it was Vaughn was going to do to him. That little s***. Her father, she meant. That particular little s***. He thought he was soooo funny. What was it Vaughn always said to him? Oh yeah, ‘You are less amusing than you imagine.’ Ha. That was true. She needed, she needed.... She had to find a way into the game without showing her hand to either party. Playing dumb usually worked. Hmm. Slowly her face cleared and she flipped open her cell phone. “Midge? It’s Barbie. I know what you are up to. And I want in.”
Part 3