Alias
The Confession

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The Confession

Blood drive wagon. Don't forget to give blood, guys! Sydney says, "He licked my face." Vaughn says he understands. Sydney says, "You don't, really. He. Licked. MY FACE." Vaughn's forehead has so many creases that it looks like a loom. Sydney dishes the hate for Secoulis, blaming him for her failure on the mission, and says that she wants to get him, bad, and that she has to be the one to go to Crete. Vaughn says that it's not the right time for her to go out of the country on a mission, since she just got back from Greece, and Cuba before that. Sydney says that they can have her father feed the info to Sloane, and make it an SD-6 mission. You know what? I'd really like to see what else goes on at SD-6, like what the other agents are doing. Hell, I'd like to see paint drying as opposed to this show, sometimes.

Vaughn agrees, but says that's not why he called her there. Sydney says she knows. She starts to tell him -- again -- how turning in her dad will jeopardize their ultimate mission, but Vaughn interrupts her as he plays the tape of their previous conversation. Sydney is hurt, betrayed, et cetera. Vaughn looks distressed. Actually, he has the same damn facial expression on he always has -- mildly anxious. Sometimes I think processed cheese food could emote more effectively than this guy. Vaughn says that he's not going to use it -- except he actually just vocalizes everything that was inferred by his playing the tape. He hands the tape over to Sydney, saying that he's telling her because he felt like he owed her. He says that he knows she's in a horrible position, but it's personal for him, too, since -- wait for it -- his father was one of the agents who was killed.

Vaughn shows her the file. His "dad" is deeply scary-looking -- kind of like Frankenstein's monster. That is one big, square head on that man. Vaughn says he made an appointment to meet with Devlin on Monday to report her father, and asks if she'll go with him. She gives the slightest of nods.

Will's House Of Faked Orgasms. (I'm assuming.) Sydney pulls up. A truly unbelievable, absolutely horrible, violation-of-the-laws-of-God-and-man version of "The Man I Love," sung by STING of all people, plays in the background. I loathe Sting. In fact, I loathe him so much that I can't even listen to The Police anymore. Now he perverts Gershwin? Great.

Sydney, wearing The Big, Cozy Sweater Of Emotional Breakdowns, knocks on the door. Will opens it. Sydney is crying. She asks if Jennie's there. Will tries to play it like he doesn't know what she's talking about, but then says, "No, she's not," and bids her enter.

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Alias

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