Chapter 3: Handcuffs and Holsters
A ringing phone woke Sydney from a restless sleep, and she rolled over to grab the cell from the small nightstand beside the bed. Seeing the flashing green light of the screen, she blinked a few times before being able to read the number listed. It wasn't one she recognized, tentatively, she pushed the button and set the phone to her ear.
"Bristow," her voice, though trying to make herself sound alert and unafraid, was a gravely and sleepy drawl.
Sitting up against the headboard while waiting for a reply, the cool night air hit her bare shoulders, and briefly she wished she'd slipped into something more than just a camisole and a pair of cotton underwear to sleep in.
"Hello?" she called once more, hearing a shuffle on the other end and what sounded – to her – like an iron gate being closed.
"Joey's Pizza," Vaughn's low, lusty voice came through her earpiece, visibly calming the now wide-awake female agent.
"Damn it, Vaughn," she growled, looking over at the bedside clock to see that it was 4:17 in the morning. "You should have been home last night," she spat out.
"Joey's Pizza?" he questioned her this time.
"No – I'm not going to play your little game. Not at 4:17 in the morning," she grumbled, sliding back into the bed and pulling the coverlet up to her chin, keeping the phone tucked between the pillow and her ear.
"Joey's Pizza has a confirmed delivery to Warehouse 47," he tempted once more, Sydney finally starting to acknowledge that the only way his call would stop would be to play along.
"Vaughn, come on," she sat up once again, kicking her legs out over the edge of the bed, her feet curling when they came into contact with the cold hardwood floor. "Just come home, I'm...I'm already naked," she lied.
"A large hard pizza with a side of holster will be waiting for the next fifteen minutes. I can't promise this offer will be on the table later, Agent Bristow," he replied sternly.
She sighed, though it was more of a moaned growl, rising from the bed and pulling on a pair of Vaughn's much-too-long, plaid and pull-string sleep pants. "Fine, I'll be there in twenty," she snapped, turning the phone off and tossing it onto the bed, slipping her feet into a pair a pair of flip flops, realizing they were Vaughn's as well.
"Oh, well," she mumbled, stumbling over the long shoes and making her way out to the living room in search of her keys. Running a hand through her hair, the thought of brushing the strands – or her teeth for that matter – ran through her head, but she dismissed the notion quickly. He deserved morning breath and a disheveled Sydney for pulling this little game so early in the morning.
…
Vaughn yawned as he stepped out of the taxi, a block away from the warehouse. Paying the man and lifting his suitcase from the trunk, the driver left him standing on the curb. Walking with tired steps toward the famed meeting spot in his and Sydney's 'handler/asset' days, he had to grin at the idea running through his head. For two weeks he'd had a hard-on because of the game she'd initiated – but not finished – an hour before he boarded the plane.
He'd been planning this the whole flight back from Germany, and the bulge in his pants had not decreased. But, in every situation, there are both good and bad aspects, and this was one of those situations. He was going to get Sydney back for messing with him, but at the same time, he'd been in varying states of torture for the past week and a half. Opening the large iron door, he lifted his cell from the inside pocket of his jacket and pushed speed dial #1.
"Bristow," her voice was low and edgy, and he could tell that she hadn't received any more sleep in the last fourteen days than he had. Briefly, guilt flooded his system, but he forced himself to stay on track.
The lull in their conversation made her repeat herself over the phone, her voice slightly more alert. "Hello?"
"Joey's Pizza," he grinned, making sure she heard the low tone she once affectionately called the 'sex voice'.
He heard her grumble through the phone and grinned, knowing she was most likely annoyed by his call.
"Damn it, Vaughn, you should have been home last night."
Again, another small surge of guilt was replaced by a small twitch in his trousers at the sound of her voice. "Joey's Pizza?" he asked quickly, hoping she'd get the message that he wasn't going to stop until she agreed to meet him.
"No – I'm not going to play your little game. Not at 4:17 in the morning," she growled, Vaughn double-checking his watch and seeing that it was indeed 4:17 AM.
'Oh well,' he thought. 'The earlier the better, I guess.' He sighed, his mouth away from the phone as he used the last card in his up-the-sleeve arsenal. "A large hard pizza with a side of holster will be waiting for the next fifteen minutes. I can't promise this offer will be on the table later, Agent Bristow," he told her sternly.
He heard another rumble over the phone, going from his ear directly to his cock, and he couldn't help but get harder when he realized she'd gotten up and was putting on some clothes.
"Fine," she snapped. "I'll be there in twenty."
With that, their short conversation ended and he briefly did a small, Weiss-like dance. He waited for fifteen minutes before hearing her car pull up through the cracked open door at the front of the building.
Her hair was still tousled from sleep, and there wasn't a trace of make-up on her face. To him, she'd never looked more beautiful. Briefly, he went back to her trying to bribe him out of his plan by announcing that she had been sleeping naked. Every once and awhile when he'd come back from a particularly difficult operation, he crawl into bed – bone tired – and come skin to skin with a very naked Sydney. Those were his favorite nights.
As she stepped into the light, he noticed his drawstring pajama pants hanging dangerously low on her hips, the styled, black cotton panties peeking above the waist band. Her favorite maroon camisole was easy to spot, even in the waning light of the warehouse, and his rock-hard erection pressed impatiently against the zipper of his dress pants.
"You'd better have a good excuse for this, Vaughn, I was very much asleep," she growled, tossing open the gate, the heavy metal sliding closed behind her as she looked up at him with fiery brown eyes.
She barely had time to register what was happening as his mouth crashed over hers, his hands tangling in the already tangled tresses of her highlighted brown hair, his tongue invading her mouth.
Once she got over the shock of his urgent kiss, she responded with equal fervor. Her own hands slid inside his jacket and found the straps of his holster, using them as leverage to pull his body flush against her own. They broke away to draw in deep ragged breaths before they met once more, mouths and lips dueling as he sucked her tongue into his hot mouth.
She barely felt his hands as they slid from her hair, occasionally getting caught in the strands, moving over her shoulders and down her arms. He pulled away from her swollen mouth with a wet pop, trailing her jaw line with his tongue before sucking at the pulse point of her throat. His teeth bit into the sensitive skin between neck and shoulder, and all she could do was groan, her eyes closing against the sensations.
A momentary flick of cold metal against her wrists made her eyes pop open as the handcuffs securely fastened her to the chain-link gate she'd been crushed up against.
"Vaughn…what the-" she wondered, looking with wide, lust-filled eyes up at her lover.
He'd managed to handcuff both of her hands together, using a second pair to attach the dangling chain between both cuffs to the fence behind her. Swaying the small set of keys in front of her eyes, she watched with bated breath as he crossed to a table about seven feet away, placing the keys neatly on the tattered, worn surface.
"How are you going to get free, Agent Bristow?" he asked, his voice sensually ragged as he still sucked air into his starving lungs.
"You've got to be kidding me," she snarled, the lust still circling her irises with a swirl of black, but the fiery and angry brown shining back at him with a feral ferocity.
"Payback's a bitch, isn't it, baby," he grinned with a wink, watching her struggle with the cuffs for a moment before fixing glaring eyes back on him.
"Undo these," she ordered, seeing him shake his head gleefully. "You son of a-"
"Whoa, whoa – this isn't any time for that kind of language. Now, I'm gonna head home and jump into bed. If you want, I'd love for you to join me,"
"But I was already in bed!" she countered with a yell.
"Well, you didn't have to come out here at all. For goodness' sake, Sydney, it's 4:40 in the morning," he grumbled in reply, lifting her purse and grabbing the keys to her car.
"Wait!" she shouted as he started to walk away. Turning back with a curious gleam in his eyes, she continued. "How the hell am I gonna get home?" she asked, a sudden desperation in her voice intermingling with anger.
"You're a CIA agent," he turned, walking back to the door where he paused, looking back at his struggling Sydney. "You'll think of something," he laughed, closing the door behind him as he jumped into her car, driving the ten minutes back to her apartment.
Once inside, he started setting everything up. Sydney, being a fairly efficient agent, shouldn't take too long to get out of those cuffs. Especially since he'd left the keys a mere seven or so feet away. He'd only have a few minutes before she was free, and knowing Sydney, she'd probably walk (or jog or run) the entire way back, her anger smoldering and steaming.
In short, "She's gonna be ready to blow her freakin' top," he muttered to himself, grabbing the lighter from the drawer in the kitchen and lighting the stress-releasing candles she'd strategically placed around the room. His mind flicked over to Francie and Will, and he jogged over to their bedroom.
Placing his ear against the door, he didn't hear anything unusual, but he also didn't hear the sound of a sleeping couple. Cracking it open, the small ray of light from the living room bathed the bed in a soft glow. It was made, complete with pillows at the headboard, and he broke out into a large, beaming smile before closing it once more.
Shedding his jacket quickly, opening the closet door and tossing it in, he struggled for a moment with his holster, toeing off his shoes and kicking them into a corner. Removing it completely in order to take off the crisp, button-up shirt, he tossed the garment over the back of the couch before sliding his arms back into the straps of leather, fastening it around his waist. Stumbling while shedding his pants, he made his way to the bedroom to see the bed neatly turned down, his side messy while her side looked barely slept in.
His heart warmed slightly at the thought of Sydney sleeping on his pillow while he was away. Much like him spraying a bit of her perfume on his sleep shirt for those particularly long nights where he waited for the elusive sleep to come. Of course, he'd never let her know that – or Weiss, for obvious reasons – but he found some consolation in the fact that she missed him almost as much as he missed her.
Spreading the wrinkles out of the bottom sheet, he whipped off the heavy coverlet and tossed it haphazardly onto the floor at the foot of the bed. Sitting on the edge he pulled his socks off, chucking them into the nearly full laundry basket before standing and removing his boxers, his hard-on springing out and standing to attention. Piling the pillows up against the backboard, he climbed from the bottom of the bead to the top, the cool sheets a startling contrast to his hot skin.
Resting calmly against the ornate wood, his eyes couldn't help but focus on the open door as he rested, in all of his glory, wearing nothing but his holster and an erection.
"Son of a bitch!" she growled, his laughter being cut off abruptly by the closing of the heavy iron door.
'Honestly, I guess I do deserve it after what I did to him after he left on the mission,' her mind argued, though she was far too angry to listen to her rational side.
Her eyes scanned the area around her, and - despite the blood rushing in her ears - she was able to see an abandoned chair beside her. Using her feet, she tipped the seat over, a loud bang echoing in the empty warehouse as the metal met the cement. Edging it forward until the back of the chair was underneath the table, she pushed the leg and caused it to turn slightly toward her.
The back was now at a ninety-degree angle around the table leg, and, kicking a flip-flop off to curl her toe around the small metal bar between the two front legs of the folding chair, she pulled. The position was awkward and the cuffs dug into her hands. Though he'd left enough room for it not to be painful, there wasn't nearly enough room for her hands to slip through – unfortunately.
Pulling until the corner of the table got wedged inside one of the diamond shaped holes of the fencing, she used the shoeless foot to reach up and grab the keys, her big toe curling around the ring and getting a firm grasp. Snatching them off of the table, she bent her leg back until she kicked her bound hands, her long fingers grabbing the keys. She struggled for a moment, turning her neck in an uncomfortable angle to try and see where her fingers were going.
She finally heard the pop of the lock, her right hand free from the confining metal. Turning quickly, she undid the left and – grabbing her purse – made her way out of the warehouse. The sky to the east was a pale blue, and she glanced at her watch to confirm that it was indeed time for the sun to come up. 5:11 AM.
During her thirty-minute walk back to the apartment, she'd managed to cool down a bit, but the intense heat between her legs had increased significantly. Vaughn wouldn't have just left her there to go home and wash to dishes, he had to be planning something. And – quite frankly – she was excited as hell.
Of course, on the off chance, she could get home to find him wrapped up in a warm blanket sleeping soundly.
"Nah," she muttered to herself. Ignoring the various catcalls from cars as they drove by, she wondered why she hadn't thought to throw a t-shirt on over her camisole.
'Well, it wasn't like I'd planned on getting handcuffed to a fence by my significant other,' she contradicted in her mind, once against arguing with herself. Coming up to the front door of the apartment, she saw nothing in the front window.
"You've gotta be kidding me," she growled, trying the doorknob and finding it unlocked. Tossing it open, she saw his shoes were kicked into the corner alongside her tennies. Nothing too much out of place, his shirt was tossed over the back of the couch - and upon further inspection, she opened the closet door to see his jacket laying on the floor atop her gym bag.
"Michael Christopher Vaughn, you had better be awake," she shouted, slipping out of the flip-flops and shoving them into the corner, making her way to the bedroom.
The door was open and a faint flickering of candlelight illuminated the hallway. Walking into the room, she stopped in her tracks to see Michael languidly sprawled across the bed, his naked body looking like a golden god in the dancing light of the flickering candles. He was wearing his holster still, his hand openly stroking his still engorged cock, catching her eyes as she watched him.
"Took you a bit longer than I'd expected," he commented, his voice catching as the tip of his thumb circled the crown of his erection, the bead of moisture reflecting the light.
"You know, you really didn't have to go through all the trouble. I was already warm and snuggly in that very bed," she commented wryly, her fingers slowly moving up to undo the hair she'd tossed up in a ponytail after searching desperately for a hair tie in her purse. Letting the strands fall around her shoulders, she watched him squirm on the bed as his fingers continued the gentle massage, moving down to cup his sac momentarily before moving north once more to circle the shaft.
Her hands skimmed her chest, slowly working down her abs until she reached the hem of her light shirt. Lifting it inch by inch, she took her time. Moving at a snail's pace when slipping it over her head, giving him an ample view of her bare chest, her nipples perking out in both arousal and as a reaction to the cool circulating air within the apartment.
Moving to the drawstring pants, she undid the bow with a flick of her wrist and shimmied out of them, leaving the garment pooled at her feet. She stood with the black cotton panties snugly fitted to her waist, her fingers hooking the elastic and tugging them down to join the rest of her clothes on the floor.
At the sight of her completely nude and standing in front of him, he involuntarily gave a quick squeeze to the shaft of his cock, blood pooling at the base and making the tip turn purple until he let go. Letting go with a grunt, he sat up and slid his feet off the edge of the bed. Reaching out to her, she walked the few feet forward, using the leather straps of his holster to pull herself closer. His mouth instantly went for her bellybutton, tongue tracing the edge before dipping in, only to leave her navel and travel up to her breasts.
Licking each peak affectionately, he buried his nose into the valley between, his hands gripping the tops of her thighs, spreading them a few inches. His ring finger followed the crack of her backside until it opened up to her moist center, slipping between her folds and locating her swollen button easily.
Teasing her gently with soft strokes, her hands clung to his shoulders to keep herself from falling over. She felt the stubble of his cheeks and chin as his mouth sucked on the racing pulse point between her collar bones, one trailing down to his stomach where his extremely erect cock curved up, the head resting above his belly button. She swirled a finger around the tip, spreading the pearly pre-come as she took the tip in her hand, gripping gently.
He groaned, his mouth leaving her skin to be replaced by a hot rush of air, cooling her heated flesh. Driving two fingers up into her trembling core, she cried out before falling against him, her feet slipping as the small rug beside the bed gave way to the slick wood surface of the floor.
She laughed as he caught her, rolling mid-catch until he ended up above her with a large smile splitting his face.
"I missed you, baby," he murmured, nuzzling his nose against her cheek before she turned her head and captured his mouth with her own.
"You too," she spoke between kisses, his invading tongue making her eyes close as they sought to memorize each other's taste.
She felt his hardness insistent against her stomach, and pressing up with her hips she informed him that she was ready. Still, he took his time with his mouth and hands, re-exploring the contours of her body. Grabbing his erection in his fist, he pointed it toward her opening and teased her before pressing the head in slowly. Once the tip was in, surrounded by her warmth, he pulled away completely and repeated the process. Each time, only allowing an inch or so to enter her body.
"Vaughn," she growled, though it was something akin to a moan, and he chuckled from above her.
As soon as she opened her eyes to glare at him, he thrust with his hips and his entire length dove its way into her scorching heat. She gasped, mouth and eyes open wide as he grinned, pulling back and hammering into her once more. Though he was content to watch her beneath him, her body was too tight for his eyes to remain open. Concentrating all of his energy on pleasing the woman below him, his hands moved from their position beside her head and dipped down to her waist. This pressed his upper body into hers, and her hands quickly found their place over his shoulder blades.
The pace quickened, one arm propping himself up as the other traced her body. He ran a finger over her cheek, moving to her lips to examine their fullness. As soon as the pad of his finger touched her mouth she reacted. Placing a wet kiss to the digit, her tongue lapping at it momentarily, he opened his eyes and found her staring up at him.
With a smile of his own he leaned in and pressed a heated kiss to her mouth. He could feel her beginning to contract around him, her internal muscles waiting to milk him dry, and his hips unwittingly sped up. Pushing himself back up over her, her hands rhythmically clenching his shoulders, he began to piston in and out of her warm, tight body.
"God, Vaughn," she groaned, pressing her face into his throat as his cock began to pulse against her walls. Squeezing one last time before she imploded.
Crying out, her fingers wrapping around the leather over his back, she tumbled off of the cliff. Vaughn followed after a few well-placed thrusts before collapsing over her body, each gasping for air.
"Good God, woman, you're gonna kill me," he muttered, his mouth kissing her neck with a loud smack.
She merely laughed, pushing his chest up as the holster began to dig into her stomach. "As much as I love it - it's killin' me,"
Slipping it from his shoulders it was tossed to the floor. Vaughn pulled out and away from her, reaching out for the blankets on the ground in front of the bed. A loud smack on his backside made him yelp, turning to face her with shocked eyes, one hand tugging at the comforter and the other rubbing the red hand-print showing up the sensitive skin of his rear.
"What the hell was that for?!"
"Handcuffing me to a gate, you ass," she growled, pulling him in for one last kiss and snuggling into his shoulder.
"Well – you deserved it," he countered, stifling a yawn after pressing a kiss to her hair.
"That doesn't matter,"
"Yeah…yeah it does," he grumbled, each half asleep as their argument dimmed to heated whispers. "I didn't say that I didn't enjoy it, but still. Torture has its limits, and now you know what to avoid if you're not looking forward to handcuffs and holsters."
"Well when you put it like that…" she grinned before falling asleep, her cheek resting against the warm flesh of his shoulder as his arms wrapped around her waist, his fingers moving lightly over her skin as he joined her in the world of slumber.
…