Title: All She'd Taken
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, I'm just borrowing them.
Author's Note: Though I wrote this one first, it's kind of a sequel to "Any Way, Any Place"
-------------------
"We've got to get you out of those clothes."
She smiled up at him as his lips found hers for the first time in days-- it felt like longer. Silently, they began the familiar motions of undressing each other-- his tie, then her zipper; his shirt fell to the floor in the same motion as her dress. Of course, the busy hands and falling clothing didn't distract from their lips, or rather, his lips, trailing kisses down her neck, her shoulders, as his hands found the clasp on her bra. "God, you're beautiful," he breathed, and she smiled. Other men had called her beautiful before; when he said it she really felt beautiful.
"Did anyone follow you?" he asked.
"No," she said, taking his hands to lead him to the bed. He always asked her that; it was, in fact a necessary question. Yet she hated that he had to ask it; it reminded her that they were hardly a normal couple. Normal couples went out to dinner and to the movies and spent the night at each other's apartments. They didn't schedule trysts in hotel rooms under fake names, their minds filled with fear that they were going to get caught even as their bodies warmed to each other's touch. That was what husbands and wives cheating on their spouses did. What CIA agents who would have been breaking protocol simply by having a personal conversation did.
They weren't doing much talking just then.
Michael Vaughn made love just the way he behaved; he was protective, considerate, playful. And like in life, in bed he sometimes took her so completely by surprise-- with his forwardness, with his forcefulness.
With his love.
"You're amazing," she said, lying back on his chest with a contented sigh once they'd finished. He didn't answer, only kissed the top of her head. "Why did we wait so long to do this, again?" They had wanted each other for what seemed like a lifetime before they had acted on their feelings. If they were honest, they would admit that they'd probably wanted each other from the first time they'd met.
"You know why," he whispered. Sure, there had been plenty of reasons for them not to act on their feelings-- their judgment, his job, her life. In the end, though, none of those reasons had seemed important compared to their longing for each other.
"We were so afraid of having to live like this," she said, turning her head to place a kiss on his neck.
"Mmm," he agreed. "Sneaking around."
"Now I can't imagine us any other way, can you?"
It had been the wrong thing to say; almost immediately he grew tense under her touch. "Syd," he said, an odd urgency in his voice.
She rolled off of him, propping herself on one elbow to look at him. "What's wrong, Michael?"
He sighed, sitting up and running a hand back through his light brown hair. "Sometimes I think you thrive on all this secrecy."
Her eyes widened. "Of course I don't," she said, shocked that he actually thought that. "I love being with you, and I've learned not to care that we have to keep it a secret."
"What if we took SD-6 down tomorrow?" he demanded. "Could you handle having a real relationship with me?"
"You always do this," she snapped, then winced at her tone. He didn't need her impatience. He needed her reassurance that she would love him, regardless of the circumstances. She hated his insecurity, but she loved him. She could coddle his ego a little if she had to. "I just wish you wouldn't worry so much," she said, touching his arm lightly. "I love you, Michael. Okay? And I would love to have a real relationship with you. But we can't, so I'm enjoying what we have. Why can't you?"
He sighed, a downcast look in his green eyes. The eyes. In his case, they really were windows to the soul; she could always tell exactly what he was thinking when she looked into them. "You always talk about wanting to bring SD-6 down so badly, wanting out--" he said.
"I do!" she insisted.
He sighed again, another of those sighs that indicated that he was, in fact, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. "I know you do," he said after a moment. "I'm just afraid you'll miss the excitement. And that I'll just be one more thing in your life that's not a part of that anymore."
She stared at him, trying to read his eyes, trying to determine what she could say to make things right with him. "I don't know what I can say to make you believe that I love you."
"I believe it," he assured her. "I just get scared."
"Oh, Michael," she said, settling back against his chest. "When have you ever had to be scared with me before?"
"Are you kidding?" She was relieved to hear the sound of his laugh, even if it was directed at her. "Syd, every time you leave on a mission, I'm afraid I'm never going to see you again."
Now it was her turn to grow tense against him. "I'm pretty good at taking care of myself, Michael."
Another sigh. "I know."
She felt herself relax a little as she turned to look at him. "And when I do need help," she said. "You're always there."
He began to run a hand over her hair, a bit distractedly. "Yeah," he said. "I am."
She turned toward him and kissed him, over and over again, hoping that if she kissed him enough, she'd quiet his doubts, and he'd feel as safe and comfortable with her as she felt with him. Unfortunately, she was afraid there weren't enough kisses on her lips for that.
It was funny. Before, anytime anyone had ever asked her what love was, she'd never been able to put it into words. Now she knew: it was when someone knew you were capable of anything, and that was part of what they found so amazing about you. Yet they noticed when you were struggling, and they were there to offer you support.
The only problem was-- and it was the one thing she could never admit to him-- she was afraid, too.
Because he'd offered her so much. Comfort. Protection. Love. She had lavished in the comfort he'd provided, accepted his protection. Been awed, over and over again, by the strength of his love. All he'd wanted in return was to be with her, and for her to love him as much as he loved her. She was afraid that she'd never be able to make him believe that she did.
That she'd never be able to fully give back all she'd taken from him.
