Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Alias characters. I do own everybody else though...

(A/N): Ok, this is kind of a different spin on the world of Alias. This is definitely not your average another kind of world story. This is told through the twisted mind of Malorie Vaughn. I was just honestly becoming sick of the average Sydney/Vaughn children type of story. So, why not make them older? Well, that's exactly what I have done. Please enjoy and please review. If I get enough reviews, I'll keep posting the rest of the chapters I have written.

Remember-This isn't your average story. It's just a fun bit of reading.

Chapter One

I looked up and automatically knew who it was without hesitation. They are my parents, the people who had raised me since birth. But I, Malorie Vaughn, will finally be entering the world of marital bliss. I'll be joining all of the other happily married 80-year-old couples out there. Not that I'm 80 years old, because I'm not. I can only hope that my life will be filled with much happiness. Wait, when did I turn into a Hallmark greeting card? Who am I kidding? I know it will be! I'm marrying the most wonderful man in the world. I shouldn't have to convince myself of that. It must be these damn pre-wedding jitters.

My mom says that I think things through too much. Which I guess in some aspects could be true. She says that I am her baby and that she wants this wedding to be perfect. She says that I have to relax and just take this whole process in stride. Easy for her to say, she isn't the one planning a wedding for over two hundred and fifty people. On the other hand, my dad has been a nervous wreck through this whole thing. His cell phone bill should be through the roof, due to all the calls he's made. He keeps saying, "Money isn't an issue". I don't think he notices how often he checks prices and tries to bargain. I know he's trying to help though, and I really appreciate that.

Liz, my older sister, was the one who ran my bachelorette party. Now that I think about it, that's about all she did. Liz occasionally showed up to poke fun at the bridesmaid dresses or the number of layers on the cake. It's at times like these, that I wish I were an only child. But there is one person who is worse than my sister. It's my brother Andy. He's the oldest and the most protective. The first date I ever went on was a double date, with none other than my brother. He's very supportive, but he tends to over due it. He even fainted when I told him that I was engaged.

But that's not all. I have another older sister named Hillary. She is the coolest person I know. I can talk to her about anything. She lives in England though, so she wasn't really here for the wedding preparations. She flew in last week though for the dress fitting and bachelorette party. Hillary was always she partier now that I think about it. But I can't forget my rather stern grandfather. Once, he even told my fiancé that if he ever hurt me in any way, that he'd suffer an immeasurable amount of pain. I just hope that he was joking when he told him that. My grandpa can be awfully serious when he feels passionate about something. That's probably why my parents eloped...

Now that I have dragged you through the whole process of meeting my family, I'll introduce you to myself. If you haven't already guessed, my name is Malorie. I'm the daughter of Sydney and Michael Vaughn. I'll be marrying Tom, the love of my life in two days time. We haven't exactly chosen a place to live yet. I know, I know, shame on me... But like I said before, I've been slightly busy planning a wedding for over two hundred and fifty people. We'll probably be staying in our apartment until we can buy a house. Anyways, Tom proposed about a year ago on Valentine's Day, during a cruise in the Caribbean. He popped the big question against a sunset while we were on a yacht.

When I had called my mom to give her the news, all I got was her voice mail. I then went on to try my dad...voicemail. I couldn't get any farther than that, because Tom and I...well we got preoccupied. When you're in the Caribbean and you've just become engaged, lust takes over. We didn't leave our room for the rest of the trip. It was kind of like an early honeymoon of sorts. Once my parents did receive the news, they were quite excited and happy. My mom started crying of course, just like I knew she would. My dad said that he was very happy for me. The exact reactions I knew they would have.

So now, as I'm days away form my wedding, I can't believe how happy I really am. I have great parents and a great family, not to mention a grandfather who cares (even if it results in violence). Now, I have a man that I'm going to share the rest of my life with. I have a steady job that brings in a nice portion of money. I'm in great physical condition, and I'm pretty sure that I'm cute. Wait...I know I'm cute! I inherited my dad's wonderful dimples and my mom's big brown eyes. I'm only slightly stubborn and pushy, something that I received from both of my parents. If you have any complaints you can take it up with them.

In all the time that I've been sitting here daydreaming, my parents have walked over to talk with some people. They're probably double-checking with all of the final plans. My mom is nodding her head and smiling, even though I know that she's exhausted. Both of my parents have run themselves into the ground, trying to work out all the last kinks in this wedding. Since the rehearsal dinner is tomorrow, I'm going to try on my wedding dress for any final altercations today. My mom and sisters will also be going to try on their final dresses too. I have a feeling that it will be very stressful and emotional. Just the thing I need right before my wedding...

My mom is now walking over to me, so I stand up and smooth out my skirt. She gives me a smile and then hugs me, all the while smoothing out my hair. I know what's coming next too. She'll start to cry and then she'll go and hug my father and then he'll have to sit her down. After about ten minutes of sobbing she'll look up and she'll see me and start to cry all over again. Then, as if on cue, my mom starts tearing up and my father comes to her rescue. He ushers her to the other side of the room, near a box of that stiff Kleenex.

I can't bear to watch the next phase, so I walk out the front doors of the church. The sun is starting to go down, so it casts a bright glow right at eye level. I pull my hand up to my eyes to try and prevent any further damage. I then realize, that my sunglasses are lying on my kitchen table in my apartment. I silently curse myself for being so forgetful. Since I can't stand the glare from the sun, I'll have to head back into the church. Hopefully my mom has finished, because I can't really stand to see her cry anymore. With the way my emotions are going, I'm likely to break down right along with her.

But before I can reach for the door, it's being pushed open and I have to step out of the way. It's my dad. He's come to see if I'm okay. He's been like that since I was a little kid. It didn't matter if I had a scraped knee or if my boyfriend had dumped me. My dad had been there for me as a shoulder to cry on. As I looked into his eyes, mine started to water and he pulls me into a hug. Sounding like the major hypocrite I am, I start to sob. There goes my strong outer shell.

"Why does she always have to do that?" I manage to say through my sobs.

"You're the youngest, you're our baby." My dad says quietly as he pulls away and looks me in the eyes. "It's just a very emotional time for her."

"Oh, like it's just a picnic for me? You have no idea how much stress I'm under at the moment. I don't think I've actually sat down for more than 10 minutes in about 3 months. It seems like nobody can make decisions without me." I say, anger growing. "I'm tired and I'm irritable and my emotions are just going slightly haywire."

"I know." My dad says simply as he grabs my hand and squeezes it.

"I love you." I say as I lean in to hug him.

"I love you too." He responds. "You know, it's getting late, you better head over to the boutique."

"I guess that means I have to go and get mom than right?" I say, stating it more than asking it.

"Yeah." My dad says with a laugh. "Good luck, Mal."

"Thanks Dad." I reply straightening up. With that, I turn around and open up the doors to the church. My dad gives me a little push and he ushers me inside. I spot my mom talking with the minister. When she looks over I give her a little wave and I tap my wrist indicating that it's time to go. She says goodbye to the minister and she walks over to my dad and I. As we head out of the door, I make sure to grab a box of that stiff Kleenex. Knowing my mom, she'll need a lot of it.