Barely Breathing

First Names

© 2002

Rating: PG

Spoilers: basic stuff

Pairing: some V/S

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me.

-Sydney's POV-

I pull up to the warehouse. It looks abandoned, but I know better than that. The ignition goes off, and I push open the door of my roomy SUV. A glance around reveals no one in sight. Good.

The air is chilly; the sky is overcast. Francie says it's supposed to rain this afternoon. I don't know. The last time she said it was going to rain, there was no rain for two weeks. But this time I think she just may be right. Rain. I could use some rain.

The weather reflects my current mood perfectly. There's so much built up inside me that I feel like bursting, but I know I can't. I have to hold it together. I've been doing this for seven years; I know how to handle situations like this.

Right. That's a lie. Straight out. I should really start being honest with myself, of all people. The truth is I have absolutely no idea how to handle this particular situation. No clue whatsoever. Nada.

Someone is waiting for me inside the deserted building, someone I don't know well at all. Someone I'm not supposed to care to know about. And I tell myself I don't. But that's a lie, and I know it. His name is Michael, or Vaughn, as I call him. Sometimes I wonder why I don't call him by his first name. I mean, after all, he calls me Sydney. Francie would call it denial. She doesn't know how right she is. Calling him Michael would personalize the situation. My being professional would fly out the window. Somehow the name Vaughn is a constant reminder of the nature of this so-called relationship I have with him. Agent and handler is what it is called. Nothing more. Agent and handler is safe.

--

-Vaughn's POV-

I hear her first as she enters the building. The creak of the door as it opens, then the click as it locks back into place. I used to mentally prepare myself for the sight of her. I don't do that anymore because I know my efforts are futile. I am never quite prepared for the sight of Sydney rounding the corner, of her long limbs swinging in a rhythm that I find unbearably seductive, of her smooth lips turned up in smile just for me, or of her luminous brown eyes that warm me with a glance. All I ever do now is try not to stare, for too long.

This particular meeting is no exception. She has on a loose green sweater and black slacks that hug her hips. Her hair is caught in a high ponytail at the back of her head. She looks at ease and there is a slight redness in her cheeks.

"Hi," she breathes, and I shudder involuntarily. She has no idea what that breathy voice of hers does to me, to my emotions.

"Hey," I say, "how did the mission go?"

"Great, no glitches, considering I had no counter-mission." She smiles for an instant, and her twin dimples wink at me. My stomach does a flip-flop. I look away and clear my throat.

"Well, the next mission SD-6 has you on is a relatively routine job," I say, trying to make my voice firm and professional.

She shoots me a wry grin. I arch an eyebrow in return.

"Maybe not exactly routine, but it isn't anything you haven't done before," I reply, rushing to explain myself. "It's essentially data gathering so, as usual, the CIA gets a copy of the information."

She nods. "Okay," she says, getting up to leave. "I'll see you when I get back?"

It's a rhetorical question, but I answer it anyway. "Yeah, Monday."

She gives me one last smile and heads toward the exit. I feel all the feelings I tried to suppress during the meeting bubble to the surface. On an impulse, I call out. "Sydney…wait."

She turns to meet my eyes, but I look away immediately, afraid she can see the naked want in them.

"Yes, Vaughn?" she says in a raspy voice, like she's slightly out of breath, only she hasn't been running. I wonder why she never calls me by my first name. It's not like she doesn't know what it is. Inwardly, I am already berating myself for my temporary lapse in judgment. I have nothing to say to her. Well, nothing she'd want to hear, anyway.

"Uh…nothing. Forget about it." I plant a forced smile on my face in an effort to reassure her nothing is wrong.

She looks at me for a second with an expression I cannot quite place. Smiling, she leaves. Only when I hear the lock snap back into place do I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

--

-Sydney's POV-

The door shuts behind me and I lean my head against its cool surface. Barely breathing. I am barely breathing. For a moment back inside, I had thought Vaughn was going to say something to me, something that went beyond the necessary and required. But I was mistaken. I had misinterpreted his action, the tone of his voice. I only hope he didn't hear how out of breath I was, or how my face fell slightly when he told me it was nothing. I usually hide my emotions so well.

I walk over to my parked car. Sighing, I pull out of the deserted lot. Another day. Another mission. Another meeting. Another narrow escape. Breathe, I tell myself.



Okay, how was that? Feedback, please! Tell me where you want me to go with this, if anywhere. -V