By Karen T
© May 2002-ongoing
Disclaimer: Same old, same old. Except for the time I spend writing this, nothing belongs to me. Those honors belong to JJ Abrams, Touchstone, Bad Robot, ABC, and others.
Chapter 2
[twenty minutes earlier]
"That," Sydney panted as she pointed over her shoulder in the direction from which she and Dixon
had come, "was not a small hill."
"No," Dixon gasped, bent at the waist, his palms pressed against his thighs. "No, that
certainly wasn't."
"I thought ... Marshall said ... it'd be ... small hill." She squinted up at the sun and then
used the left sleeve of her T-shirt to wipe away some of the perspiration that had collected
along her hairline.
"Well, I'm sure it--" he huffed before finding the need to pause for another breath. "I'm sure
it looks small on a fifteen-inch computer screen."
"I guess. But, just to be clear, this means I'm not getting soft, right? Because I've gotta
say, on that last part where the incline felt like it was ninety? I wasn't sure I was gonna ...
Well, you know."
"Yeah, I know," Dixon chuckled sardonically as he recalled how he, too, had had doubts about
whether he would be able to complete their climb. "And, no, you're definitely not getting soft."
Spinning around, he arched an eyebrow as he digested the sight of a water well basking in the
bright sunlight. "I guess that's our well."
Sydney shuffled to his side with a look of uncertainty on her face. "I guess so," she agreed
with a tinge of concern creeping into her voice.
"Well, I can understand why people think it's a real water well. I mean, it certainly looks
like the real thing."
"But it's not, though. Right?" she hesitantly asked as she walked over to the side of the well
and took a peek down its opening.
"It's not supposed to be."
Without thinking through what she was saying, she blurted out, "Okay, it better not be because
if I end up lowering myself into a body of water, I'm gonna kick Marshall's ass when we back."
Dixon gave a boisterous laugh and threw an arm around her shoulders. "Only Marshall's ass? Not
Sloane's, too?"
"I'd be wet, not crazy," she retorted playfully.
Just then, a much-appreciated breeze cut through the nearby trees and rustled their leaves,
which captured the two agents' attention. "We'd better get started," Dixon advised.
With her backpack already off, Sydney nodded and reached into her pack for a bottle of water.
"Yeah, let's get this show on the road before anyone decides to join us."
"Rope?" he offered as he threw a bundle of heavy-duty rope at her feet.
"Thanks." She recapped the bottle of water and tossed it in Dixon's direction. "Water?"
"Mucho gracias."
As Sydney began unwinding the long length of rope, she caught sight of her partner unloading a
thin laptop computer from his backpack along with several other technological innovations.
"Tell me something," she playfully began, "how come I'm always the one who has to shimmy down a
rabbit hole while you get to stay clean and play with all of Marshall's toys?"
"I guess that's what you get for being paired up with an old man."
"You're not old! You're ... aged, like a fine wine."
"Great, now you're comparing me to fermented grapes. I'm not sure if I should be flattered or
insulted."
"You're impossible," she retorted with a giggle as she went to work securing one end of the rope
to a nearby tree. When she was satisfied that tying the rope around the tree's trunk would hold
her weight, she looked up to catch Dixon sneaking a sidelong glance at her, a small smile on his
face. "What?" she asked suspiciously.
"Nothing," he quickly replied, but then changed his response when she continued to gaze at him
questioningly. "Okay, well, it's just that ... you seem happy, Sydney. Really, truly happy.
It's been so long since I've seen you this way that I ... I can't tell you how wonderful it is
to see you light up again. I know it's not any of my business, but did something happen to
bring this about?"
"No, not really," Sydney admitted sheepishly as she averted her eyes from his and felt her
cheeks begin to burn. "I woke up this morning and it just felt like all the clouds had parted
in my life and that the sun was shining again and everything made sense for once. It's like a
weight was lifted. I know now that I don't have to stress over everything, that there's a
reason behind everything happens."
"That's great, Syd," Dixon asserted, feeling as if he'd experienced the same epiphany she had.
"I'm so proud of you."
"You're proud I'm no longer neurotic? If that's the case, then your kids must get rewarded with
cookies and ice cream all the time."
"Funny," he shot back, but she could tell he hadn't been offended by her comment. "Hey,
speaking of the kids, Diane mentioned to me before I left for this trip that she still hasn't
heard from you about whether you can make it to Stephanie's birthday party next week."
"Oh my God," she cried, throwing her hands up into the air. "I can't believe I forgot to RSVP!
It was on my to-do list, but then all that stuff in Arcachon happened and I-- You know what?
It doesn't matter. Yes, I can make it to the party. It sounds like a blast, and I've already
bought Steph's gift. Do you wanna know what it is? Because Francie and I--"
"No! Don't tell me!" Dixon shouted in alarm, jumping to his feet and dramatically flapping his
arms in front of him.
"O-kay," Sydney muttered with wide eyes as she took a cautious step away from him for good
measure.
Taking note of her backward movement, he chuckled and explained, "At the ripe old age of almost
six, Stephanie's already figured out how to wrap me around her little finger. She knows that
all she has to do is stick her lower lip out a little and do this sad puppy dog eye thing with
her eyes, and I'll give in and tell her whatever she wants. She almost got me to tell her what
Diane and I bought her for her birthday by doing just that last week! I swear, if Diane hadn't
happened to walk into the room when she did, then I probably would've spilled the beans and
ruined the surprise. So, if you want your gift to remain a secret, don't tell me what it is."
Sydney tried to join in on his laughter while she pulled on a pair of leather gloves, but the
memory of her own sixth birthday prevented her from doing anything more than pressing her lips
into a tight smile. Her mother had still been alive when she'd turned six, but her father had
been growing increasingly moody during the days leading up to her birthday. The morning of her
special day, he'd picked her up and twirled her around when she'd sprinted towards him for a hug.
But when her mother had entered the room, he'd set her down and walked away, suddenly cold and
unreachable. And now, twenty-two years later, he still remained that way, without any sign of
changing. She zipped up her backpack, sneaked a peek at Dixon, who appeared to be lost in
familial thoughts of his own, and wondered how her life would've turned out if things with her
family had been different.
When her gaze lingered a little too long on him, Dixon turned his head and found that it was now
his turn to ask, "What?"
She dropped her head and covered her deepening blush with her hands. "Would it be completely
inappropriate -- as well as somewhat disturbing -- if I said that I sometimes wish you were my
father?" she sincerely asked after a moment's hesitation.
Dixon's mouth fell slightly open as his breath got caught in his throat. With moist eyes, he
murmured, "Syd, I ... That may be one of the nicest things anyone's ever said to me."
"Well, you deserve it. You're a great guy, and your kids and Diane are really lucky to have you
to come home to. And I guess I'm pretty lucky myself because I get to hang out with you every
day at work," she declared with a chuckle in an attempt to hide how her sudden rush of
appreciation for Dixon was affecting her.
"I feel pretty lucky, too, Syd. And I'm sure your dad would feel the same way if--"
"My dad?" she scoffed. "Who knows what the hell he's thinking? I certainly don't."
"Sydney," Dixon started, his arm reaching out for her, "you shouldn't--"
Maneuvering herself just out of his reach, she slid her pack back on and strode over to the well
with the untied end of the rope in tow. "We should get going. I know Sloane doesn't think
K-Directorate or Khasinau knows about this well or what it houses, but there's no need to tempt
fate, right?"
"Right, yeah." Dixon picked up one of the smaller devices that had been lying on the ground and
turned it on as he headed towards her. "Good luck. And be careful."
"Always." As she swung one leg into the well's opening, she looked over her shoulder and
flashed him a warm smile. "Bye, Dixon. I'll see you when I get back."