A/N: This chapter is still a flashback. Chapter 3 might be. I'm not sure yet. Thanks!

A/N2: This chapter introduces a very important character to the story. I do own him.

Chapter 2

After Vaughn spread Sydney's ashes, he sat in the hotel bar. He had lost count of how many drinks he'd already had, but he didn't care. Nothing seemed worth it anymore.

"So what's your story son?" a voice over his shoulder asked.

Vaughn turned around to see an older man sitting next to him. He was about mid to late fifties, with graying hair.

"Excuse me?" Vaughn asked.

"Everyone hear has a story," the older man said. "I saw you here earlier today. On the beach. What's your story?"

Vaughn sighed. "Sir, I do not mean to sound rude, but I really don't want to discuss my life with a complete stranger."

The older man smiled. "I know you. You just don't know me."

"Who am I?" Vaughn asked.

"You're name is Michael Vaughn," the older man said.

"How do you know that?" Vaughn asked.

"I think telling you my name will answer that question," the man said. "My name is George Hunter."

Vaughn's eyes widened. "The George Hunter? The legendary CIA agent?"

George smiled. "I think we should talk."

A few minutes later, the two men were seated at a table in the far corner of the hotel restaurant.

"You said that we need to talk," Vaughn said, taking a sip of his drink. "Why?

"Because I was a CIA agent for thirty-five years," George said. "It felt great serving my country for all those years. But I lost several things along the way. Michael, I saw you on your first day at the CIA. I never remember a face. What's a guy like you doing out here? Spreading ashes at sea and getting drunk in a hotel bar? Talk to me son."

"It's a long and complicated story," Vaughn said.

"I'm willing to listen," George said.

Vaughn cleared his throat. "It all started on October 1, 2001. I'll remember that day forever."

"What happened that day?" George asked.

"I had just been promoted to a handler," Vaughn said. "I hadn't been given my first agent yet. But then she walked into the CIA, crazy red hair, split lip, black eye and all. She assigned to be my asset. Her name was Sydney Bristow."

George choked on his drink. "Sydney Bristow? It can't be. She's Jack Bristow's daughter, right?"

"Yeah," Vaughn said warily. "Do you know of Jack?"

"Do I know of Jack?" George laughed. "I was one of the people who had the pleasure of meeting him. But he wasn't always such a hard-core kind of guy."

"What was your relationship with him?" Vaughn asked, more curious than ever.

"Way back when, I was his director. He had been married for a while, and Sydney had just been born. He smiled constantly," George answered.

"Jack Bristow smiles?" Vaughn asked. "Okay, now I've confirmed that he's not a robot."

"After Laura died," George said, saying those last two words sarcastically. "He was devastated. But when he learned the truth.he went on such a rampage that he shut off all of his emotions. I take it he still hasn't recovered."

"I'll be getting to that later on," Vaughn said.

George smiled. "He left the CIA about a year later. I never saw him again."

"Well," Vaughn said. "Back to present time, Sydney was an agent inside SD-6. So was Jack."

"What!" George yelled. "That man was apart of SD-6? Is that why he left the CIA?"

"Sloane asked him to come," Vaughn said. "Anyway. Sydney and Jack became our doubles in SD-6. Sloane had killed Sydney's fiancée, and that's how she found out the truth."

"Yikes," George replied.

"Well, Sydney was determined to bring down SD-6," Vaughn said. "But a year after she learned the truth, she was captured on a mission in Russia we were on by the Man."

"You found out who the man was?" George asked, wide-eyed. "I retired the CIA seven years ago. I'm beginning to think that I should have stayed."

"The Man turned out to be Irina Derevko," Vaughn said. "Sydney's mother, and my father's killer."

"Ouch," George said. "You two had a complicated relationship."

"It gets better," Vaughn said. "A few months after that, we took down the Alliance. On the upside, Sydney and I could finally be together. On the downside, Arvin Sloane was still on the loose."

"Well I'll be," George said. "The Alliance is gone."

"Yup," Vaughn said. "Also that night, her best friend and roommate Francie was murdered, and replaced with a genetic double. No one knew about this, until it was too late."

"Why was it too late?" George asked.

"I was so in love with Sydney," Vaughn said. "She was my world, the reason I got up in the morning. Just a few weeks ago, we planned to come here for a long weekend together. I dropped her off at her apartment. I had to go back to the CIA for a debriefing. When I came back to pick her up, her apartment was in flames, and she was no where to be found. The firemen retrieved another one of her friends, Will Tippen from the fire. But Sydney, and the woman we thought was Francie, didn't get out."

"She died in the fire?" George asked quietly.

"We're guessing that. We being the CIA," Vaughn said. "We identified one of the bodies as the double, and that's how we learned that. But we don't know how the fire started. The fire investigators are investigating it as we speak."

"That's whose ashes you were spreading today?" George asked.

Vaughn could only nod.

"You remind me of myself Michael," George said. "I was also a handler. My agent, Kathleen Johnson was an agent of an organization that no longer exists. I was in love with her. I married her four months after the takedown. I was thirty-five at the time we were married. We never had children. But eight years ago, we were still with the CIA. How old were we? I want to say forty-seven. Kathleen went on a mission to Taipei, and I never saw her again. I searched the world for a year, but I never found her. Kathleen and I were married here. I come down here every year, thinking I'll see her. I never do."

"I'm so sorry," Vaughn said. "It's been seven years. You haven't moved on?"

"No," George replied sadly. "I never will. Have you ever heard the story of the Waving Girl?"

"No," Vaughn answered.

"In Savannah, Georgia, a long time ago," George began. "There was this young girl who was deeply in love with a sailor, who was deeply in love with her. Her sailor had to go off to sea. Each day this girl waited on the banks of the Savannah River, waving to the sailors, hoping one would be hers, and that her sailor would return. He never did come home. She never moved on. My point is son, when you find that special somebody, you don't move on quickly. You wait, hoping that somehow they'll come back to you."

Vaughn smiled sadly. "Thank you sir. I think I needed to hear that."

George smiled back and stood up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. He scribbled something down, and handed it to Vaughn.

"I'll be back in LA in three days," George said. "If you need to talk, don't hesitate to give me a call."

"I will," Vaughn replied, taking the piece of paper.

"I'll be seeing you soon son," George said.

And with that, he turned on his heel, and exited the bar.

AN3: This chapter is kind of a recap/new character part, so if it was bad, I'm sorry.

AN4: The Waving Girl is a true story. There is a monument of her in Savannah, GA where she stood everyday waiting.