"Sydney, Vaughn, your mission is to go to Paris posing as a wealthy, recently married couple on their honeymoon. Your task is to retrieve Page 47 back from Prophet Five."

Sloane was briskly explaining the mission to the whole team in APO but the groups' minds' were some where else completely.

Jack Bristow was giving the classic "Bristow Death Glare" towards Vaughn's direction, as he thought about how useless and pathetic he was. Nothing new there.

Marshall Flinkman was mindlessly going through the Fibonacci series in his head. He had nothing to say and he knew no one would ask him any questions so this was how he had decided to waste his time. He was on 9227465.

Marcus Dixon was thinking of what he would have for dinner in Paris because he was on com's which was what he always did these days. Maybe pasta, he thought.

Michael Vaughn was doing what everyone expected him to do. He was staring lovingly at Sydney thinking of what type of car they would get when they were married. He hadn't even proposed yet but he had already picked out the bathroom wall paper. Maybe a minivan, that way we can have lots of kids! Michael thought about with a faint smile.

Sydney Bristow on the other hand was thinking of how freaking stupid Vaughn looked with that silly grin on his face. As she started to think about ways she could wipe the expression off his face, she was shaken out of her reverie by Sloane's words.

"Sydney? Do you understand the mission….Sydney?"

"Yes, I heard you and I understand." Sydney was bored and wanted to get out of APO as quickly as possible.

"Okay then, wheels up in one hour."

As everyone slowly filed out of the conference room, Sydney in the lead, Vaughn pulled Jack back to ask him the question that had been on his wrinkle encased brain for days.

"Umm, Mr. Bristow? I love you daughter, and would do anything for her. You should know that. Now, what I'm going to ask you, you may n…" Vaughn was cut off.

"Agent Vaughn, will you please be quick with this? I have an important meeting I cannot miss and if you make me late you will be sorry."

All the Jack really wanted to say was 'shut up, Wrinkles' and walk away but he knew he couldn't do that.

"Okay, well ermm you see. I'm going to ask Sydney to marry me and I was hoping to have your blessing before we wed."

Jack did all he could to hold back a bellowing laugh and failed miserably. Instead his whole body shook with silent laughter and his face twisted into a cruel smile. He only had to utter a few words to make "Agent Michael Vaughn" run away in terror. "What makes you think she'll say yes, Vaughn?"

All the way on the other side of APO, Sydney was trying her best to escape the evil claws of Arvin Sloane. As usual he was trying to act like a father figure and give Sydney some advice before she went on her "potentially dangerous and life-threatening mission". "Just remember Sydney, I will always love you like a daughter. Be safe."

"Thank you, but I really do have to go," Sydney was trying every excuse in the book to get his hand off of her shoulder.

"Okay Sydney, I understand, and you probably want to get back to Vaughn."

At that stupid boys name, Sydney shuddered. How could anyone think that he was cute?

"You caught me," Sydney laughed a fake laugh, "so I better get going. Bye!"

Sydney power walked out of Sloane's office, out of the building and towards her car. Once inside, she slumped against the wheel and heaved a deep sigh. She was sick of having to listen to Sloane's sorry voice, of putting up with Vaughn's middle school like glances during meeting, and especially of helping out people she truly didn't care about anymore. There was most definitely another Sydney Bristow out there, but she didn't want to be the good, patriotic "Syd" everyone knew. It was time for change and Sydney decided it would come in form of rebellion.

Sydney's cell phone rang and as she looked at the called I.D. she sighed. "VAUGHN, "it read in big black letters. Turning off her phone and tossing it into the passenger's seat, Sydney roared out of the park lot and into Los Angles traffic.