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Title: Surfacing
Rating: R, for sexuality (probably a mild R, but hey, better safe than sorry, kiddos)
Summary: Sydney POV, S/V. What happened in North Korea? What happened afterwards? Sydney's story before, during, and after. For January's Official SD-1 Challenge, the sole requirement for which was to Bring The Angst (tm).
Spoilers: Through "Full Disclosure," and Speculation based on the promo clip for "Crossings"
Disclaimer: I don't own Alias or its characters. This is for my and others' reading pleasure.
Feedback: Yes, please! :-D Gifts of praise, hot young men, chocolates, and quantities of vodka all graciously accepted :)


 
 
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
 
 

Part 3 - Waves on the Shore

* * * * *

I poured us wine. Red, the same kind that I had shared with him so many nights before.


And why not? I asked myself. Whatever happened between us tonight would not be the fault of alcohol. We had already made our choices, as difficult or impossible as they might have been.


He held out his glass to chime against mine, and the tiny sound rippled through the room in a way that made me remember what it was like to be with someone I was so close to. How many nights like this had I missed?


For the first time I could remember since Hong Kong, we talked. About everything, or so it seemed at the time.


I told him what it was like to have to start over in a whole new apartment, how I missed Francie and Will. About how I felt moving into my new apartment those months ago, and how friendly Weiss had been in the beginning.


" I wouldn't have made it without him, I think," I admitted. I didn't ask him if Vaughn had encouraged Weiss to visit me so often, or ask how it was that I'd managed to get an apartment in the same neighbourhood his best friend. I didn’t have to, I think. As I talked, Vaughn smiled into his glass and took another sip of wine, and that was all the confirmation I needed.


He told me about what it had been like for him as a teacher. He'd enjoyed the students, he admitted, but the assignments were always the toughest part for him. It had been difficult to figure out where the middle ground was between being too strict and being not strict enough.


I talked about my father, and how much of a lifeline he had been for me.


Vaughn stiffened a little when I mentioned him, and I paused, my glass halfway to my lips. I drained the last few red drops before speaking.


" He's my father, Vaughn," I said. "I don't like everything that he's done, either, but I think I understand his choices a little more than I used to." I shrugged. "He's the only one I had left, through everything."


" I know," Vaughn answered. "In fact, I think he was starting to like me a little bit," he admitted.


I smiled a little in surprise at this. "Really?"


" Yeah. When I was willing to risk my life to get you away from Lindsay, I think that kind of forced him to reconsider his opinion of me."


My smile dissipated a little. "I never thanked you properly for that," I said, referring to the mission that he had risked so much to be a part of.


" Yes you did," he nodded. "You couldn't have done anything more than what you did." His glass had been empty for a while, and stood discarded on the table. He leaned back in his seat. "And I wasn't in it for the thanks, anyway," he said, smiling. "Of course, if your father knew I was here right now, I'm sure he'd be changing his mind about a few things."


A breath exhaled quickly from my lips, as I didn't need to confirm that statement with anything further. But then I turned towards Vaughn, leaning a little closer to him. "It doesn't matter. Not about this. There's more between us than what I need my father's opinion to verify," I said gently.


My father felt like a ghost in the room right now, and I wished more than anything that he would leave.


I set down my wine glass, which by now was empty anyway. "I don't want to go there right now," I said, leaning in towards him again, even closer than before. My hands came to rest on him, running along his chest.


" Where do you want to go?" He asked, almost a whisper. His voice had grown husky, and for a moment I considered if it was just because of the wine.


I shook my head. "Nowhere. Just here. With you," I added.


After that it didn't matter to me in the slightest, who kissed who first. Maybe we came together at the same time, for once. By then it wasn't as important any more.

* * * * *


Some time later, long after the bottle of wine had stood empty, after I had had enough time to bury any lingering anxiety, we had kissed our way towards the bedroom.


For a moment I felt like a blushing teenager, fumbling in the dark while her parents were out of town. I think I might even have let a laugh or two escape my lips - low and murmuring in my throat. Vaughn seemed to like this, and that made me enjoy his touch even more. His hands were on me, first my waist, then hips, then back to my face, and then it seemed like my fingers too were everywhere at once.


Both of us were wearing far too many clothes, it was quickly becoming clear to me. My hands reached underneath his sweater, and travelled back along his body so that he could raise his arms above him. I broke away from the kiss as he helped me to finish the job, and the sweater fell away. My hands returned to his chest, the muscles that I could still feel beneath the cotton of his T-shirt.


I reached my lips towards his once again, as my hands continued to travel. I could feel his fingers grasping into the still damp folds of my hair, and my lips parted to allow him entry. His tongue probed, stroked inside my mouth as his fingers did my hair, and my body fairly hummed in anticipation.


We parted again, breathless. I needed more, so much more, now that this was actually happening. Vaughn is here. Now. With me. My lips carried on along the edge of his jaw, leaving a trail of moist heat down his chin, his neck, towards the collar of his shirt.


I was dimly aware of his actions, could feel his hands travelling along my back, grasping at the edges of my sweater. There were buttons along the front, and his fingers moved along my waist to find them. One by one, I could feel them falling loose, before his hands slid underneath, running along low tank top I'd thrown on after my shower before. My lips returned towards his, and he grasped at my torso, my breasts, the curve of my back.


" Vaughn..." I breathed. I was back over two years ago now, in a different room, but the same man's arms.


" You're so beautiful"...


My eyes opened, and I paused for a moment as I looked back at him. I couldn't tell just then if I had been listening, or remembering.


" What did you say?" I asked.


His hands framed my face once again. "I said, you're beautiful, Syd."


I smiled. "That's what I thought you said," I answered, half-whispering.


He smiled back at me, only long enough for me to pause, giving him access once again to my lips. His kiss was pleading, pursuing, just as his hands were. I felt his hands move quickly underneath the waistline of my jeans, and I gasped.


Far too many clothes, I thought again, fleetingly. We each began to take care of that small problem, desire and intensity building with every touch. Words had left us, replaced by the sound of breathing - warm and erratic as our movements.


I don't remember moving to the bed, or where either pair of jeans landed after that. I reached underneath his T-shirt, pulling away the cotton barrier. It was as if that was all Vaughn had been waiting for, because once it was gone, his lips returned to mine, plundering, begging me to do the same. Breathless once again, I could feel my heart beating fitfully as I took in air. Vaughn's lips moved farther south, down my neck, trailing a path of wet heat along my collarbone.


The bed was a soft weight underneath my back, something that I was by now incredibly grateful for. My limbs had become unsteady long ago.


My hands travelled down his back towards the curve of his thigh, and his fingers went to work under the straps of my top. His boxers still lingered, and my hands started to travel back up to remedy that small detail. For the briefest moment I remember thinking how strange it was, touching the definition of his body, that so much power and strength, and yet so much sensuality and tenderness could exist in one person.


Vaughn's lips had found their way down to my chest, pulling a little at the flesh of one breast, until he encountered the black neckline that concealed anything farther below. A low murmur emerged from deep within his throat, resonating against my skin. I trembled, sensation simmering through my entire body.


As his hands travelled back up to my waist, his nose and lips were nuzzling downwards, reaching the same destination. His fingers grasped at the hem of the shirt, pushing it up and away, exposing the skin beneath. Free from obstruction, his lips returned to my navel, tracing the curve of my abdomen.


And then, his fingers brushed the right side of my body, touched the traitorous white line of my scar, and my breath left me in a gasp.


I felt chilled, suddenly, torn away far too soon, back to the questions that plagued me... Questions neither Vaughn or I could answer.


I don't know if Vaughn realized then what he had done. I stiffened underneath him, my breathing once again shallow. He raised his head towards me, and my eyes closed against the uncertainty in his expression. I brought a hand to my face, longing against all the things I wanted to erase.


I turned underneath him, pulling back the fabric in an attempt to do just that - covering from my body the things I wished I couldn't see in my mind.


My legs swung out around me to edge of the bed. I leaned forward, letting my head fall into my hands, concealing my face. I couldn't look back at Vaughn, not yet.


Perhaps until the last thirty seconds, this evening had been the closest I had come to happiness in months - years, really. Until now I had started to believe I was only Sydney, and he was only Vaughn...


Tears sprung to my eyes for what must have been the third or fourth time that evening, and I felt anger rise inside me. Anger that shook me along with the embarrassment and confusion that had already settled there. "Under the circumstances, I think my life's pretty normal..."


Even so I was aware of movement behind me. For a minute I wondered if Vaughn would take this as a cue - a get-out-of-jail free card, an all-too bracing reminder that neither of us were supposed to be doing this, that he shouldn't have come over here in the first place. He could have left that present with a card and not waited for me in the first place. I could have said thank you and goodnight and fallen alone next to the pillows beside me.


He must have been thinking all of these things, I know he must have. And so it was with both surprise and elation that I felt the touch of his hand on my back.


Vaughn moved to join me again. He let his breath exhale slowly as he sat beside me. His lips pressed against my shoulder, a gesture so gentle and reassuring that I couldn't recoil against it. My throat felt constricted, and I wasn't sure if I could speak and let only words escape.


" Syd..." he started, searching for what should follow. He let his hand slide up towards my shoulder, pulling him closer to me. I let him, and leaned against him wordlessly. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't...maybe we shouldn't be doing this," he offered. It occurred to me then that he hadn't known the effect his touch had had, and I felt even more deeply embarrassed. I was shaking my head already, could feel his eyes on me, questioning.


" No," I managed, "That's not it." I let a hand drift back down to the hem of my top, slid it up ever so slightly to expose the raised, flawed patch of skin that now seemed to burn against me. By now, both of us knew what it meant, what I had become because of it. My fingers released the fabric once again, and his hand pressed against mine.


"Oh, Syd," he breathed, pulling me closer to him. He planted a kiss on top of my head, then my forehead. "It's alright," he said, even as he held me tightly.


I took in a deep breath and let it out again. "No, no it's not. It's too much, Vaughn..." I said finally. "I didn't ask for any of this, none of it, and I think I've been pretty patient every time something else happens..." My hand escaped his, brushing at my cheek, wondering if I could possibly explain this to him.


" There are times," I said, more gently now, "When I feel like I never left, like…life is simple, and if I just keep moving I'll be fine." I shook my head a little. "Like tonight," I admitted with a bittersweet smile, and touched my fingers gingerly to Vaughn's cheek. "And then other times, all it takes is a split second, and I feel like I've stepped outside of myself, and it's like I'm surrounded by walls..." My breath escaped raggedly. "I want my life back," I said.


I looked back into Vaughn's eyes, wondering if anything I had said had made any sense - could possibly explain what I was feeling.


He brushed his fingers along the line of my jaw, along my chin. Looking back at me with sympathy in his face. He reached again for my hand, grasped my fingers, and brought them down towards his waist. There he pressed my hand underneath his, and I felt roughness beneath.


I looked down, moved my hand away slightly. I touched my fingers gently along his skin, and felt the subtle, star-shaped scar that I myself had given him not so long ago. My eyes closed for a moment as I swallowed, understanding a little of what was passing through Vaughn's mind just then.


He spoke delicately. "I'm not saying it's the same thing, Syd," he said. I felt his hand return to mine, and hold mine in his. "I don't know if I can ever understand what you've been through, or what it feels like for you, every time someone mentions Rambaldi, or the Prophecy..." he paused for a moment, watching me blink against the names that had become the root of so much confusion in my life.


" I'm just saying," he continued, "That my life isn't perfect either, you know that more than anyone. And, even if I can't understand everything that you're going through...I might be the only one who can come close," he said. His voice was quiet, reassuring, but imploring at the same time. I ached at the sadness that lay beneath that reassurance, at his willingness to see me through everything. I grieved for how poorly I had treated him in the beginning.


But it occurred to me then, that he might even be right. I released his hand, reaching mine back towards the rough skin that had directed his touch before. My fingers traced the outline of the mark I had made.


" For a while I thought..." I started tentatively, "I thought I had killed you," I said, my voice wavering. "I can't tell you how relieved I was..." I continued, remembering how helpless he had seemed, fallen and wounded. It occurred to me also, what else had been unsaid for both of us, for far too long. "But I had to do it. I had to...I love you too much," I finished painfully.


The expression on his face changed then, showing so much more comprehension and reflection than I had ever imagined.


He brought his hands to my face, so carefully and purposefully. "Sydney, I love you," he whispered back. I looked back at him, frozen, replaying the words we had just spoken to each other. "It's why I let you do it...it's the only reason I do anything," he finished.


My lips started to curve into a smile. A tentative, disbelieving, unabashed smile. His lips touched on my forehead once more, and a gasp of happiness escaped me.


" I love you, Vaughn," I said, looking back at him again. "That's all I've wanted to tell you ever since Hong Kong...ever since that night..."


" I know," he interrupted. "I should have told you long ago," he said, as if guilty of a deeper injustice. "So long ago," he added.


His lips captured mine then, as gently and intently as his hands had held mine. I could feel the chill begin to leave my body. Starting from somewhere deep within, a sensation unfurled that I had begun to feel only moments earlier.


We parted again, our breathing becoming more rapid and heated. "Show me," I said, for the second time that night. He looked back at me, questioning, and I nodded. "I want you to, Vaughn," I told him. My hands returned to chest, pressing against the warmth of his body. I could feel his heartbeat there, just below the surface, as strong and as measured as my own.


I waited for him to nod, or give me some other kind of spoken answer, but neither of those came from him. His arms simply wrapped around me, around my legs and my body, lifting me back.


Minutes earlier, we had begun in this way with such desire and momentum that I had never expected any other conclusion than what I had known from him before. Our feelings towards each other now were no different, and our touch was just as sure and passionate.


When I let him bring his hands to my skin, pulling away the last of my clothing, I didn't shudder as I had before - nor had I forgotten the reason for my earlier hesitation. The questions hadn't been erased by what we had said to each other, either by voice or touch. The anxiety had not vanished.


Instead they had somehow been changed, not replaced but accompanied by a warmth that I had not imagined ever before. Even before Santa Barbara...before the Alliance fell, before SD-6... Nothing could have prepared me for that night in Vaughn's arms. Touch had been combined with such an intensity and depth of emotion, a reciprocation that I had not thought possible.


Our breathing had combined together, a bodily response no longer within our control. My legs wrapped slowly behind his, as one of his hands splayed at my back and steadied me, even as his other rested firmly next to me, steadying himself.


His gasps followed mine only by seconds, and in those seconds it seemed that for a moment I had lost all memory. All thought and emotion were given over to pure sensation, the passionate release of our bodies enclosed by each other.


The next thought I could understand, the only thing I could comprehend in my mind, was that maybe, just maybe, I could manage all of the questions and everything they brought with them. I could manage them even if Vaughn wasn't beside me with each one, if it meant I would be given even this brief moment with this man.


His breath was warm against my shoulder once more. We had both been spent, exhausted in every way possible. I put my arms around him then, no other expression left to give him, other than my presence.


* * * * *


It could not have been more than a few hours later when I woke up. Everything around me was still dark. A faint swath of grey light swept across the room, reflections through the window from the street lights outside.


My eyes opened gradually, adjusting to the dimness of the room. I felt cold, and pulled the covers farther around me. Reclining back into my pillow, I turned, and leaned beside Vaughn's sleeping form. I could not help the smile that spread across my lips, there, in the near-darkness of my bedroom.


I breathed in deeply, resting against him.


Even as I told myself I was not back in the same familiar place I had known with him before, my mind turned to the same familiar gestures. I remembered Vaughn sleeping like this before, asleep, or perhaps resting, half-way there, and my fingers running through his hair.


And so, I reached my hand longingly towards him. My fingers touched the softness of his hairline, moved through the light brown tufts that followed there. Once, then, my hand brushed his cheek, and felt a slight dampness.


I sat up further, surprised as I beheld the transparent gleam that graced his cheek.


My hand came to rest at his side again, and I paused in comprehension.


And then I returned my hand to where it had moved before, at his temple. I leaned down and placed the lightest kiss on his cheek, tasting the drying saltiness there.


When I returned my body next to his, I wrapped my arm around him, and felt, then, his own hand come to rest on top of mine.


* * * * *

~FIN~



 
 

 

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