Title: Facing Forward (A Series in Six
Parts)
Rating: R mostly for some violence and a character's
death, sexuality.
Spoilers: Through "3x17 - The Frame." After
that, I think I can safely say that this fic diverges from the show's
storyline into AU. You could call this an alternate conclusion to Season
3.
Summary: Post-'The Frame', an alternate series of events
changes everyone's lives. Did I mention this involves a main character's
death? Don't read if you're not interested.
Disclaimer: I don't own Alias or its characters. This
is for my and others' reading pleasure.
Thanks: To CognacGirl for her wise words; Luna for
comments and ideas; JeSouhaite for saying "Write it write it write it!";
Macha for help with Los Angeles locations; Thank you also to Nat (MissBlue)
for her lovely, lovely ficart as well as feedback, and Em Mindelan for
giving the nicest insta-feedback a gal could want. *hugs*
Feedback: Yes, please!
* * * * *
Part 6 - Hard to Hold
* * * * *
Minutes.
Minutes were all that had separated her last conversation with her father, and the moment of his death. Minutes, and a slippery road, and possibly - she now suspected - some tampering with his car.
The coroner's inquest had been inconclusive on pinpointing one single cause of the accident. Weather conditions combined with a steep road, an unsteady guardrail, and impacts from more than one other car, were all enough to justify the damage that had been caused. In the end, the wreckage was so complete that they had been unable to determine any conclusive faults within the mechanic components of the car itself. The brake fluid had apparently been completely drained - whether that was the result of accident or tampering, they couldn't be sure.
Still, Sydney's suspicions wouldn't rest. She would never know for certain if Lauren had been involved, but she could make a guess.
Minutes.
Considering that fact brought a wave of emotion and anger over her, as she recalled endlessly anything she might have been able to do that day that could have changed what had happened. She never reached any comforting conclusion, and was left feeling even more helpless than before.
She had already shed so many tears since her father's death, and she would shed more in the time to come, she was sure. Since the night of the accident, Sydney had spent every night remembering the last words her father spoke to her, and the last hours she had spent with him, and every night she had cried.
There were still moments when she would feel overwhelmed, confused by all that had happened. She had to admit she felt slightly more sure of herself now - there were people around her she trusted and who cared about her, and even small gestures of reassurance made her feel more confident. Weiss had been especially helpful and supportive, and for that she would always be grateful. Even if she was still working through her grief, it was becoming easier to do that now.
As unexpected as it might have seemed to her in those days after Jack's death, Sydney had become very accustomed to Weiss's comfort and company. His presence was reassuring and warm, and made her feel that she still had a tether somewhere, something to hang on to.
When she'd opened the door to her father's apartment to find Vaughn looking back at her, surprise filled her. That surprise was later to be replaced with an uneasy combination of anticipation and doubt. She couldn't say she hadn't missed him, nor could she pretend that she wasn't glad to see him.
But their unstable relationship of the recent past had not been made easier by Jack's death. She could only guess at the courage he had to muster to knock on the door and offer himself to her. It had also taken an equal amount of strength from her to let him be the one to offer that comfort.
It touched her to know that he would continue to be there for her. Her tears didn't flow as easily, now. Still, what remained for her was a kind of aching sadness, a heaviness that tightened under her chest and woke her in the middle of the night. Always, she would lay herself down again slowly, and curl her arms around her pillow, and wish away the emptiness.
* * * * *
Sydney knew how reluctant Dixon had been to even include the two of them in the mission in the first place. Certainly, Jack's paper trail had made it easy for them to track down both Lauren and Sark, and Sydney and Vaughn's capabilities as agents had, in the past, stood up to the toughest tests. But this was different. She knew that, and so did Dixon.
"Dixon, if it were you..." she said to him, and knew immediately from the expression on his face that he'd let her go. "You remember what it was like when Robin was missing," she pointed out, her voice hesitating under mixed emotion.
He looked back at her, long and hard, before finally nodding. His hands tensed against his folded arms as he responded further. "We need to know what they know, Sydney," Dixon told her. "I want them alive."
Sydney swallowed, recognizing the full weight of his words, as much as she wanted to question them. "I understand."
* * * * *
On the plane to Zurich, there were brief moments of conversation between the two of them. There was nothing fancy about this mission - no sleek jet or covert disguises, only a cargo plane and a few choice pieces of weaponry.
Jack's paper trail had made it easy for them, of course. After Sydney was able to access the additional documents in Jack's safety deposit box, she had everything she needed to convince Dixon and the CIA that this mission needed to happen. They knew exactly where to look and which names and bank accounts to follow.
They spent most of the flight in the dim seating area, reviewing the mission plan and the location map that they had already memorized hours ago. Most of the time they said nothing to each other, and what little was spoken remained professional.
Still, it would have been difficult for Sydney to miss the unspoken attention Vaughn paid her. There was something in the way he sat just a little bit closer to her than before, in the open honesty of his expression.
I don't need you to protect me, Vaughn, she spoke in her mind, as she watched him check their parachute harnesses for the third time. This wasn't the first difficult mission she'd experienced. It was not the first time someone she loved had died, nor would it be the last.
A few hours later, just before they began to ready themselves for the drop, she felt Vaughn's hand brush hers. He clasped his hand around her curved fingers, and gave a gentle squeeze.
She remembered standing on a pier four years ago, when she never thought she'd make it through the darkness. Lifting her gaze to look back at Vaughn now, Sydney turned her hand underneath his, and squeezed back.
Maybe it doesn't matter if I need him, she thought to herself, then. It matters more that we need each other.
* * * * *
Her aim was too precise.
She wasn't supposed to kill anyone, she knew that going into the mission. When the moment arrived, and she had her pistol drawn in front of her...somehow she couldn't explain how everything had happened. It certainly wasn't how they had planned.
They'd parachuted down just south of the Swiss estate, and had a brief trek through the hilly terrain in order to approach the perimeter from the most sheltered location. From the plane, a pair of Op Tech agents had been able to hack into the security system remotely, allowing the agents on the ground to access the building.
Somehow, as the CIA team arrived, Sark and Lauren managed to get a head start, leading the agents into a chase. Together, Sydney and Vaughn followed directions from the Ops agents as they chased their adversaries.
"Boy Scout and Mountaineer, you are closing in. Suspects have exited the building heading northwest, you are within fifty yards," the Ops leader told them over the comm.
"We copy that," Sydney responded hurriedly. She and Vaughn burst through a set of doors on the north side of the house, moving towards the northeast corner. To her recollection, their scans of the property had revealed a small garage in that vicinity, and if Sark and Lauren were moving in that direction then it was likely they were not far from escape.
As they circled the building, Sydney rounded the corner before Vaughn, in time to see their opponents now only a couple dozen yards away, within reach of their car.
Lauren lagged slightly behind Sark, but both of them were armed. Sydney watched and responded as they each fired a round. Vaughn let out a cry of pain, and he fell suddenly. Their adversaries took advantage of the distraction and continued their escape on foot.
"Vaughn!" Sydney cried, startled. Momentarily torn between the pursuit and her partner, she had to steal a glance back towards Vaughn. Please, please... she thought. But thankfully she noticed only a single wound, on the outside of his leg, several inches above his knee.
"I'm all right," he shouted. "Go." He was struggling to stand up again, and waved Sydney away as she stood almost motionless. "Go!"
She turned, sparked once again into action, and ran back towards their
two adversaries. They had nearly reached the vehicle, and Sark was
moving around to the driver's side, as Lauren continued her pace and
was about to reach the door closest to her.
Sydney raised her pistol automatically, almost without thinking. She heard the shots ring out and the sound of glass breaking. Just as felt her finger pulling the trigger, and the recoil of the weapon, she registered the black car pulling away into the distance. Lauren faltered, and the pistol fell from her hand, hitting the ground only seconds before she did.
For a moment, Sydney stood stunned, lowering her weapon with a sense of defeat as Sark drove away. But as she brought her vision into focus and looked straight ahead, she saw Lauren's fallen form. Her opponent lay motionless only steps away from where the car once was, and a dark red stain was gradually spreading across her jacket.
Sydney's breath caught in her throat, and the next few seconds passed as though they were hours. She reached for her earpiece. "This is Mountaineer," she spoke into her comm. "Sark has escaped. Lauren Reed is down," she added, her thoughts already travelling ahead to the explanation she would have to give Dixon.
We were supposed to bring them in alive. We were supposed to bring in both of them.
She lowered her pistol to her side, and stepped towards Lauren. As she closed the distance between them, Sydney realized with a start that the woman was still breathing, although her breath was extremely shallow. Her eyes were open, looking around as if in shock at what had just happened.
Stopping only a few feet away from her, Sydney looked down at the woman who had betrayed all of them for so long - Vaughn, the CIA, her father, even Sydney. She felt her hands go numb, as she tried to register what she was feeling just then. In the months before, she had thought that when this moment came, she would feel a sense of satisfaction or justified anger. She thought she would feel closure, if nothing else.
But she looked down as Lauren Reed took her last few struggling breaths, and was shaken. The woman's blond hair was splayed out around her face, and a trail of red moved from her lips and dampened her cheek. Her face was the most pale shade Sydney had ever seen. As she looked at this woman for whom she knew she should feel nothing but hatred, Sydney was startled. She was unprepared to see such an open expression of fear staring back up at her.
Lauren's mouth opened slightly, as she struggled to breathe. She turned her head towards Sydney, and her lips moved as if to speak, but no words emerged. Sydney's own lips parted as if she might respond, but she too could not find anything to say.
She watched, motionless, as Lauren gasped for breath, and then was still. Her head rolled to the side, and her icy blue eyes stared sightlessly into the distance.
Dimly, Sydney was aware of the ops team firing questions at her through her earpiece, and could hear Vaughn making his way on shaky legs towards where she stood. Her grip started to weaken, and the pistol dropped from her hand and fell to the ground.
* * * * *
In the days that followed the mission, Sydney felt as though her life
became only more chaotic.
She could not deny feeling a certain sense of retribution, now that Lauren Reed was dead. There was nothing else she had wanted, in those moments after she had read the information her father had so carefully gathered. She'd wanted that satisfaction so badly that she could almost taste it - had tasted it in the moments when she and Vaughn had raced through that estate in Switzerland. Nothing else had mattered to her.
It wasn't the first time she had killed someone, certainly. It was also not likely to be the last. And even though she hadn't acted according to plan, she knew there was no one in the Joint Task Force facility who would likely question what had happened on that mission. Sydney tried to rationalize all of these things in her mind, telling herself over and over that she had no reason to fault herself.
Dixon had recommended she take additional time off. Enough had changed in her life over the past few weeks that she deserved the time for herself. She agreed that there were all sorts of reasons why she should take the leave of absence, and yet she was hesitating. She had certainly been under stress, in the days after her father's death, and before she and Vaughn had taken that fateful mission to Switzerland, but she had at least had something to hold on to and a way to focus her energy.
Now, there was no funeral to arrange, no more belongings to pack away, no investigation to plan. There weren't even as many barriers between herself and Vaughn, now that the truth about Lauren had been revealed and the woman herself eliminated.
But there were no protocol manuals or guidelines to govern what their next steps were together, and it was as if she needed something like that to cling to. What am I supposed to say to Vaughn, now? What does he expect of me? Can I even pretend to act the same around him as I would have before?
She continued to ask herself the same questions that had turned over and over in her mind countless numbers of times before. Even her grief had begun to be pushed aside, as her feelings for Vaughn began to surface again. Logically, there wasn't any reason why Sydney should be resisting him, especially after the small steps they'd managed to take together in the last week. Still, she'd experienced everything from denial and indignation to regret and anger, and what remained now was confusion.
* * * * *
Sydney spent the day trying just about everything she could think of to keep busy. After being willingly shepherded around town by Weiss for more than a week, Sydney completed her errands by herself - everything from picking up her dry cleaning to grocery shopping. She even let herself spend time walking down Melrose, stopping at one to look wistfully at the new dresses and jackets in the window.
Day slipped into evening, and after returning from a late jog Sydney showered gratefully, for once taking an extra minute to enjoy the warmth and calming fluidity of the water. She decided to make an attempt at normality, to try to have a relaxing evening by herself.
It was a satisfying task for her to prepare dinner - that was something to which she had only recently become accustomed. Many times since her return from Hong Kong, Weiss's cooking skills had kept her from ordering out every night, but the few evenings when she had taken the time to cook something for herself, she found she quite enjoyed it. Sydney opened a bottle of wine and put a CD on the stereo, and decided to forget about anything else.
Some time later, she found herself pouring another glass of wine and reclining gratefully on her sofa. The stereo shuffled and clicked as another CD turned into place, and she found herself closing her eyes as she listened.
Her phone chose that very moment to ring. She heard the ring and sat up, slightly startled, before setting her glass down on the coffee table. Probably Weiss, she thought. Or Dixon. Or maybe... She tried not to wonder if it was Vaughn. After another two rings she reached the phone and answered.
"Hello?"
"Hi," his voice responded on the other end. "It's me." She didn't have to ask for any further clarification.
"Vaughn, hi," she said. For a moment she wondered if this was a professional call or a personal one. These days, it was hard to predict.
"I just got back from the office and I thought you'd want to know," he started to tell her, a slightly eager tone in his voice, "Sark's been apprehended."
Professional. Her hopes fell, just a little. "Where? When?" she asked.
"London. British SAS has been watching for him, along with a dozen other national security agencies in Europe. Anyone who's been identified as Covenant has been internationally red-flagged," he added.
She already knew that last piece of information, but nevertheless she was glad to hear the news. It gave her some relief to know that one of their most significant adversaries had been apprehended. "That's good news," she answered, exhaling a long breath.
"Yeah, it is," he said. "He's being held there right now, but the CIA's trying to work out a transfer to bring him to the United States and be formally charged here."
"What's Dixon going to do?" she asked, genuinely curious.
"Thorough interrogation, before anything else," he answered. "And then...I'm not sure. I don't think the Directors have a lot of patience left for Sark, not after all the times he's avoided capture."
Sydney exhaled again, guessing at the implications of what Vaughn was saying. Given how few Covenant agents had eluded the CIA already, and Sark's proven unwillingness to bargain with them, Sydney could make a guess at how many options that left. Maximum confinement was one. The death penalty was another.
Several seconds of silence passed between them, as Sydney struggled with a response. One part of her was glad that Sark would likely receive such strict prosecution, but another had started to let those thoughts go. She had been given a leave of absence - what happened with Sark was now beyond her control, and she wouldn't be with the CIA while his prosecution was arranged.
"Syd?"
"I'm here," she answered. "That's good news, Vaughn, it is. Sark deserves whatever he gets," she added in complete honesty.
"I couldn't agree more," he said. He paused again, as if waiting to hear if she had anything else to add. But she didn't, at least not just then.
At that moment it was suddenly dawning on her that one loose end in her life had suddenly been tied away. Nothing would change the fact that her father was gone, but nonetheless, Lauren was dead. Sark was in custody. The man on the other end of the phone was very much available. And right now, he wanted to talk to her.
"Syd, is everything all right?" he asked, then. "If I've called at a bad time..."
"Vaughn, would you like to come over?" Sydney interrupted him.
There was another pause before he responded. "You mean, now?" he asked.
She shrugged, dipped her head as she answered. "I just wondered...if you weren't busy, if you wanted to come over. I could make coffee," she added a little more lightheartedly, taking a hopeful step back towards their conversation more than a month ago.
Sydney didn't need to be able to see him just then, to know that he had a smile on his face as he answered. "Yeah, I think I'd like that."
* * * * *
It couldn't have been more than twenty minutes between their phone call and his knock at her door. When she opened the door and found him looking back at her, she had to admit to herself that she was glad to see him.
"Hi," she said, allowing a brief smile.
"Hi," he answered as he stepped inside.
As Vaughn took off his jacket and slipped it over one of the coat hooks in the foyer, it occurred to Sydney that he had never actually seen her new apartment. She watched him as he let his gaze sweep around the living room and the kitchen.
"What do you think?" she asked, folding her arms and coming to stand next to him.
He turned to face her. "It's nice, I like it. It's different from your old place, isn't it?" he asked, perhaps without really expecting an answer. She nodded as he looked back around the apartment.
"Yeah, it is. It took me a little while to get used to it, but I like it a lot, now." She stepped into the kitchen, and was aware of his presence behind her. He followed her, leaning up against the counter that faced the row of stools.
"How's your leg?" she asked him, glancing towards the spot where he had been injured on the mission a few days ago. She hadn't noticed him limping, which she thought was a very good sign.
He did the same, shrugging a little as he pulled out a stool and sat down. "It's fine. It was just a flesh wound, not too deep. They gave me a few stitches."
Sydney nodded, a little relieved. She opened a cupboard and pulled out two mugs, which she brought over to the counter in front of Vaughn, before turning back for the coffeepot. She glanced briefly at the half-empty bottle of wine that she had pushed aside earlier. Maybe later.
"I told you I'd make coffee," she told him, reaching again for the pair of mugs.
"Thanks," he said, smiling at her as she poured. She looked up as she finished, and couldn't help but smile back at him, more easily than before.
His eyes seemed to shine a little in the evening light. "I've missed that," he said, watching her as she replaced the coffeepot. She turned back with a questioning look on her face, and he continued. "I've missed seeing your smile, Syd." He put his hands around one of the mugs, although his eyes never left her. "I'd forgotten how much I'd missed it," he added, softly.
Sydney's smile faded then, as she thought of how few times she had smiled in recent days. "Vaughn, I haven't had that much to smile about, lately," she answered with a shake of her head.
"I know," he said, his own expression becoming more serious as well. He looked down at his coffee.
Slowly, she walked around the counter to one of the other stools, and sat down next to him. He passed her the second mug, from which steam was still rising, and she thanked him quietly.
"You've got some time off, still," he commented. She wondered briefly if he was trying to steer the conversation towards something a little more promising.
Sydney nodded back, holding her mug with both hands. "A month." She shook her head a little. "I told Dixon it was too long, but he insisted. I think he remembers what it was like for him after Diane was killed," she said thoughtfully. "He never told me for sure, but I think he regretted that he didn't take more time to spend with his children. He went right back to work, without any hesitation," she added, before taking a sip from her coffee.
"Is that what you'd like to do now?" he asked gently.
She shrugged slightly. "I don't know. Part of me wants to go back to work and pretend everything's normal. It's like that's the only thing I know how to do."
"You mean work?" he asked, to which she nodded.
"It's what I've always done," she answered, looking down at her coffee. "Even after Danny, I could only stay away for so long."
"Syd, that wasn't your fault," he reasoned. "That was because of SD-6, you didn't have a choice..."
Sydney was already shaking her head again. "I did have a choice, Vaughn," she said. "You knew that more than anyone. I could have gone into Witness Protection, I could have left when my father gave me the chance...there would have been other double agents..."
"Yes, you had a choice, Sydney, but just because you made the decision you made, it doesn't make the others any better or worse," Vaughn told her, his eyes searching to meet hers. "Who knows what would have happened if you'd chosen differently?" his head tilted a little, as his gaze lowered once more. "For one thing, you might never have met me. I might never have met you."
She looked up towards him, considering his words. "No, I might not have," she agreed.
"I'm not saying I don't have regrets, Sydney," he said. "I do. We all do. And I still haven't figured out how to make them disappear, either."
Sydney nodded again, letting her gaze drift down to her coffee. Her fingers clutched tentatively at the mug's handle, and as he spoke, she wondered where it was leading. She could only guess at what some of his regrets must be, but she knew without a doubt what at least one of them was. Even if Lauren was no longer in the picture, she knew he must be carrying around a certain amount of anger, probably even guilt.
Vaughn spoke again, before she could think of anything to say just then. "Right now, I think I've decided to take things one day at a time, and see what happens," he said, looking back at her. "I don't know how things will turn out in the end. I think I've also decided not to wonder so much about that."
"I do," Sydney answered quietly, without hesitation. "I still wonder."
Vaughn's expression became curious, even slightly startled. Before she could risk any further uncertainty between them, she spoke again and tried to explain herself.
"I've been thinking about everything," she said. "A lot. I spent all day today trying to do normal things, have a normal day without...without questioning so many things or being angry at what I can't change," she said, giving him a rare indication of the frustration that accompanied her grief.
"I'm still not sure if it worked or not. I do know that whatever does happen, however things will turn out...it's going to be hard for both of us, for different reasons," Sydney acknowledged. "And, I know it would be wrong for me to assume anything of you, least of all right now. But the truth is..." she added, "Right now I can't imagine going through any of this without you."
He took in a breath, leaned ever so slightly closer towards her. "Syd..." he started to say, before she interrupted him.
"Maybe I shouldn't be thinking like that, I don't know..." she said, running a hand through her hair, "But it's how I feel. I've been sitting around my apartment trying to think of what to do next, but no matter what plans I come up with, they all involve you," she said.
Vaughn turned in his seat, allowing his body to face her completely. In her peripheral vision she could tell his breathing had become shallow, as if he was waiting for something. Perhaps even as if he was nervous. His right hand let go of the coffee, and he continued to listen.
"It's no use, Vaughn," she said, a bittersweet smile moving across her lips. "You're still the person I see myself with, even after all this time," she told him, feeling her voice becoming heavier as she spoke. "I tried to make myself think differently. There was a while where I thought I'd managed it, I thought I was moving on...I wasn't."
He exhaled slowly, and leaned closer. "Syd, you might not believe this, but I feel the same way," he said, shaking his head ever so slightly. A slight smile began to form in his expression, too. "I realized it months ago," he said with a shrug. "I questioned it, too, and now I know I shouldn't have."
Vaughn reached his right hand across the counter, to rest lightly against her left. Sydney looked down, and watched as she let her fingers start to intertwine with his. One corner of her mouth turned gently upward, as she felt the familiar sensation of his skin against hers. She remembered what it had been like to hold his hand like this when they were on the plane, before, and it felt just as comforting now as it had felt a few days ago.
Why am I fighting this? she asked herself. Nothing else is standing in my way. Just then she knew she had already made her decision.
Sydney leaned in closer to him, as slowly as she dared. The scent of his aftershave still lingered, underneath the crisp collar of his shirt. Mingling with the scent of his own body, and the warmth of his breath so close, it was enough to remind her of past days and nights, alone with this man.
She leaned in as far as she could, and pressed her lips gently to his. Their hands were still joined at first, as the rest of their bodies seemed to become still, in tenuous wonder. She lifted her lips away for a moment, opening her eyes to look back into his. In the green depths that stared back at her, she saw pleasure, and mild surprise.
Her lips met his once more, just as gently as the first kiss, and this time she felt their hands separate as they reached for each other just as delicately.
For months, especially since North Korea, she had wondered what it would feel like if they could have a moment like this one. She'd guessed at what it might be like to kiss him, truly kiss Michael Vaughn for the first honest time in years. Those thoughts had left her with an anticipation of heated passion, of speed and impatience.
This was different. She couldn't remember if she had felt this kind of tenderness from him before, and just then it didn't matter. It was enough - more than enough, and soon she felt his lips pulling away from hers, only to trail equally gentle caresses along her cheek. Sydney opened her eyes, and closed them again as she leaned into his arms. His breath was warm on her skin, and his hands touched gently at the side of her face as he pressed a lingering kiss on her forehead.
She wrapped her arms around him, leaning as close to him as possible, pressing herself against him. Right now, she wanted nothing more than his touch.
"Stay with me," she asked, the words heavy on her breath.
Vaughn didn't answer right away, but enclosed her in his arms, his face buried against her shoulder. He nodded. "I've missed you so much, Syd," he told her then, his voice suddenly thick with emotion. "I never stopped missing you."
As she pulled away, she brought one of her hands forward to rest at his cheek. "You don't have to. Not any more."
And she kissed him again.
* * * * *
They brought their mugs into the living room a few moments later. Long after their cups stood empty on the coffee table in front of them, they still sat and talked comfortably together on the sofa. Another CD changed in the stereo.
Sydney's apprehension had vanished. She had taken the risk of making the first move, and now, as she leaned against him with her feet tucked beside her and his arm around her shoulder, she was very glad she had done so. In the span of the last hour she'd experienced not only relief and elation at being this close to him again, but regret that it had taken so long - and so many hardships - for them to reach this point.
Would it have been as simple as this? she wondered to herself. If I had tried this, invited him here a few weeks ago, would he have come?
She felt Vaughn's chest rise and fall beneath her cheek, and closed her eyes as he raised his hand to stroke her hair. A long, calm breath escaped from her as she relaxed further.
They'd talked about a few things, some with more difficulty than others. He'd even made her laugh briefly as he told her about Weiss and all of the cookies he'd brought over.
"I can still beat him at pool, though," Vaughn said confidently.
Sydney smiled. "Much to his dismay, I'm sure."
His shoulders raised slightly. "It's okay, though, he still kicks my ass every time we play basketball," he added, smiling too.
She nodded back. "I know, he told me," she said, raising an eyebrow in Vaughn's direction.
"He did? What else has he told you about me?" he asked her, curious now.
"Oh, a few things here and there. He actually sticks up for you a lot, you know," she told him, sitting up a little so that she could face him. "He's a good friend."
Vaughn blinked slowly, understanding what she meant. "I know, he is. I'm glad for that."
She regarded him reflectively for a moment. "I was glad, too, for his help." Her expression fell slightly as she looked down at her hands. "After the accident, especially. But he's not you, Vaughn."
He looked back at her, a little surprised. "You think I asked Weiss to look after you?" he asked.
Sydney shook her head quickly. "At first, I thought maybe you did...But later I realized he really was trying to help. I think he saw the way you and I were acting together and..." she shrugged as her voice trailed off.
"And he wanted to help," Vaughn finished for her. "I know, I got that from him, too." He passed a hand across his face, and then through his hair. "He doesn't tend to beat around the bush."
"Unlike us, you mean?" she added with a wry smile.
He smiled back at her as well. "Yeah, something like that."
A silence passed between them for a few moments. Finally, Sydney spoke again. "Vaughn, I don't want to waste any more time on awkwardness, or...or wondering what might have happened." She swung her legs around in front of her, leaning closer to him. "Life's too short for that," she added, almost a whisper.
She reached once again to intertwine her fingers with his. As much as she was grateful to be able to talk with him like this, somehow she felt herself becoming impatient, as if there was so much more time they had already lost that they now had to make up for. There were things they would still have to say to each other, she knew that all too well, but just now she was willing to leave them aside.
He looked down at their hands, an intrigued expression on his face. "I couldn't agree more," he answered.
Sydney also had to admit to herself that sitting in such close, comfortable proximity to Michael Vaughn was not just relaxing. She was becoming all too aware of her body's familiar response to him, and could feel a warm flush start to wash over her skin. It had been an hour since they had sat in her kitchen and she had brought her lips to his. After all this time apart, another hour seemed much too long to wait.
That was the last thought she could form before Vaughn closed the rest of the distance between them, and was kissing her much more passionately than before.
Their gentle hesitation was gone. This moment wasn't about any sense of regret or apology, or hope. Sympathy was the last thing she wanted right now. She felt the roughness of his cheek as it brushed against hers, the deepening urgency each time his lips touched hers, and knew that they both held the same need and desire.
Her lips parted to allow his to search further, something she could not do without gaining entrance to his. She wasn't the only one who had been drinking earlier, she realized then, as she tasted the hint of Scotch that still curled underneath his tongue. There wasn't time for her to rationalize that any further, as the taste of their coffee and her earlier glass of wine was replaced. For the first time in what seemed like years she felt completely, utterly intoxicated.
Oh God, yes, she thought, as her tongue tangled around his, and her fingers entwined in the soft waves of hair at the base of his neck. Conversation had lost all purpose now. She slipped a hand beneath the collar of his shirt, as she felt his hands slide along her waist, below the hem of her sweater. Their lips parted, and her breath returned to her in a gasp.
Vaughn's eyes glinted back at her from only inches away. Sydney's hands came to rest at his neck, and she let one finger trail along the edge of his jaw. Slowly, he took that hand in one of his, and left a kiss in her palm. She felt touched by the gesture, but he didn't stop there, instead continuing a path along the inside of her wrist and then her arm. He stroked and caressed her skin with his lips, touched the sensitive skin along her arm with such care.
Sydney could feel a heated ache beginning to deepen and loosen itself inside of her, and she was starting to lose any patience she had left. With her free hand, she reached along his neck and lifted his chin, bringing him face to face with her again.
"Vaughn..." she whispered, suddenly unsure what exactly she was trying to say. Her breathing had become erratic, as had her thoughts.
"You asked if I wanted to stay," he said, the heavy resonance in his voice marred slightly by a questioning tone.
She nodded, no intention of changing that offer. "I know. I just didn't have the couch in mind."
* * * *
Things seemed to move much more quickly after that. He was next to her in an instant, and in another she was in his arms again, kissing him, touching him, and wishing there weren't so many clothes between them any more. One step at a time, fumbling with buttons and zippers, they made it across the apartment to Sydney's bedroom.
As their hands worked against the layers of clothing, Sydney's attention was quickly divided. There was the sensation of his fingers working underneath her sweater, of his tongue moving searchingly across her lips, and the insistence of his hips against hers.
She lifted her arms above her head as he pulled her sweater away, and returned her hands to his chest. Her fingers opened the last few buttons on his shirt, and as she pushed it away from his shoulders and off of his arms, she paused only slightly as his lips moved along her skin. His mouth left a trail of wet heat in its wake, moving across the bare curve of her neck, and down her chest to meet the plunging neckline of her camisole.
They'd reached the bed by now, and it took little effort for Sydney to sink down onto it, arms spread to the side to brace herself as Vaughn lowered himself above her. His fingers traveled to her waist, and farther below to the waistline of her jeans. She exhaled quickly, as roughly as his hands were as he pulled the denim away from her skin.
Sydney smiled again back at him, noting the fierceness in his expression. Whatever had happened to bring them together that night, it had happened after nearly three years of separation and longing, and suddenly that longing had found resolution. It was that resolution that pulled her up and into Vaughn's arms again, kissing him ferociously as she rolled on top of him and pushed him down.
She straddled him as she savoured the taste of his lips once more, letting her tongue linger on them for a few luxurious seconds. Beneath her legs she felt his body start to tense, matching the heat she felt at her own centre, and a low sound began to escape his throat. Neither of them would be able to wait much longer.
It took another minute for her to loosen the belt at his waist, and pull away his slacks, just as he had done for her. She lifted her gaze back toward him, her eyes locked with his as she moved her hands along his body and approached his waist again.
Vaughn pulled her to him as if in a wordless effort to gain some form of control, or perhaps in response to her measured touch. He held her with strong hands, kissing her just as deeply as before. His fingers skimmed her shoulders and down the centre of her back, briefly encountering the line of her camisole. The same, almost feral sound resonated from his throat and against her lips as he pulled at the fabric. For a moment Sydney thought he might simply rip it away, but a moment was all it took for him to remove it. Before she could react to their brief separation, he had her pressed beneath him against the sheets.
Her hands roamed along his back, just as his did hers, and they freed each other of the last scraps of fabric that lingered between them. He bent his head to bring his lips to her skin, touching them to the places he hadn't been able to reach before.
She closed her eyes again as her body began to arch underneath him, and gasped as she felt his mouth close around her breast. His tongue circled her nipple and she felt herself begin to tremble under the sensation. Her hands clutched at the back of his neck, and then fluttered gradually to her sides as she felt his hand roaming down her torso, lower and lower until...
"Vaughn..." she gasped, as he plunged his fingers into her, pressing farther until she cried out, caught in the anticipation and pleasure that threatened to tear her apart. Words struggled on her breath, and she finally raised her hands to him once again, grasping at his shoulders.
He leaned above her and entered her then, his breath sharp against her skin, and for a moment they were still. The room was nearly silent as they began to move together, slowly and carefully at first. Underneath him, she shifted her hips to meet his thrusts, and he renewed his efforts with a gathering sense of urgency as she encouraged him. She pressed a hand to his chest and felt his heartbeat quicken, pulsing in time with the warm gasps of air that he released against her skin.
She felt herself quickly becoming powerless, under the familiar sensation of his body against hers and his breath on her shoulder. Her back arched below him, and she felt his hand on her, stroking along her spine and then back up along her leg. Their pace was quickening, moving beyond their control as she raised her hips to meet his.
When he pressed his hand between them, she arched again, gasping suddenly as she felt herself tightening around him. The spasms erupted inside of her, and she cried out. Dimly aware that she must have screamed for him, then, she couldn't be sure if she heard him call her name first. They clung together in the final passionate moments, shuddering against each other, completely spent.
A moment later they fell back against the pillows, breathing starting to return to normal. She savoured the simple awareness of lying next to him, and the darkness around them, the sheets thrown unevenly across their bodies.
He lay on his stomach, not yet asleep. She could hear his breathing and sense the alertness in him, the residual tension that was still there, even afterwards. His eyes opened and closed slowly, as euphoria faded into exhaustion.
Vaughn had let his arm come to rest across her abdomen, his hand settled comfortably just above her hip. Her own right arm rested against his. She could feel his breath warm against her shoulder, and his thumb grazed lightly underneath her breast. His touch was gentle, unrelenting, comforting.
Sydney lifted her left hand, reaching out in the dimness towards his face. The back of her fingers touched upon his cheek, moved lightly against the soft skin of his cheek, and the roughness that had started to trace the edge of his jaw. His eyes closed briefly against the sensation, and the tension she could feel in his arm began to fade.
Just as gently as she had begun, she drew her hand away again, allowing it to rest next to its partner. She could feel Vaughn settle her more firmly in his embrace.
His. She thought. I am his. Leaning forward, she looked down at him as she raised her hand to rest gently at his temple, curving around the line of his jaw. And he is mine. Just as tenderly as their first tentative touches that night, she bent her head and placed a kiss on his lips.
That night, no tears graced her cheek. Although the sad ache still lingered somewhere deep, it seemed to have faded, overshadowed by such an intense feeling of... of...love, she realized. Sydney turned again in his arms, resting against him, warmed suddenly by that knowledge. Before she could think of anything else, she felt her eyes begin to close. With Vaughn at her side, she drifted off to sleep with lingering sensations of pleasure deepening in her limbs.
She didn't feel lonely.
* * * * *
End Part Six