Summary: Sydney and Vaughn finally get together, and Sydney's father gives her a perplexing offer...
Shattered Snowglobe, chapter 6
Sydney's pulse quickened when Vaughn began to caress her face. As he leaned closer, Sydney closed her eyes.
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Vaughn too closed his eyes, blindly stumbling into the uncharted territory that was Sydney Bristow.
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Their lips met. The kiss was tender, but both of them felt immediately electrified. Sydney wrapped her arms around Vaughn's neck and he gently slid his hands down to stroke the nape of her neck. Their light kiss soon grew into a heated quest for more and more passion. Vaughn removed his hands from Sydney's neck, bringing them under her arms to massage her lower back. Both of them had voices in the back of their heads that were questioning what they were doing. But both of them knew that there was no turning back now.
Vaughn pulled away for air, gulping it in quickly so that they could resume their activities as soon as possible. But Sydney couldn't wait. She began kissing Vaughn's neck, causing a small moan to escape from his lips. Vaughn pulled Sydney's face back up to his with his thumb, and deeply kissed her as he moved over her so that she was lying down on the couch; he making quite a warm human blanket. He traced his fingers over the contours of Sydney's sculpted stomach while she roughly tousled his hair.
Clothing soon flew as Sydney and Vaughn erupted in amorous fury. Finally, they lay together, spooning on his couch and desperately vying for air.
"Vaughn," Sydney gasped, "you know this is going to change things."
"Is that a problem for you?" he said with a crooked smile and a peck on the back of her neck.
"Of course not," she beamed.
"Then we'll just have to be extra careful," he managed to sputter. Sydney had rolled over and was kissing everywhere across his bare chest and shoulders, making Vaughn hardly able to see straight.
"Maybe even bring a mattress into our new meeting place," she husked between kisses.
"Hmmm," Vaughn moaned in agreement. "And some blankets..."
Sydney lips intensely cut him off.
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Sydney quickly blinked her eyes, trying to block out the sun's stinging rays. It was morning. She rubbed her eyes and looked around. She was on Michael Vaughn's couch. Their bodies were so close that they were sculpted into one conjoined shape. He was behind her, one arm loosely draped over her stomach. They were covered with nothing more than a single afghan. Sydney smiled, soaking in the blissful morning, before cautiously slipping out from underneath his arm and rising, taking the afghan to wrap around her.
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Vaughn awoke from the most peaceful sleep he could ever remember having. Sydney Bristow had spent the night. The mere notion made Vaughn smile from ear to ear. He stood up and stretched as Sydney emerged from his bathroom, dressed and glowing, ready with a smile for a new day.
"That's no way to greet a woman!" Sydney jokingly scolded. She threw him the afghan. Vaughn blushed as he quickly realized that he was naked.
They walked towards each other and Vaughn swept Sydney up into his arms and kissed her.
"That's more like it," she sighed.
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Vaughn tore himself away from Sydney to make them breakfast. He opened his fridge and pulled out some eggs, playful juggling them. Sydney laughed.
"God, she's beautiful when she laughs," Vaughn thought to himself. "How do you like your eggs, madam?" he asked.
"Just scrambled," she smiled.
Vaughn made the eggs while Sydney set the table, absent-mindedly searching through his kitchen for silverware and plates. When they sat down to eat, Sydney took their rendezvous down a more serious road.
"I'm going to tell Will and Francie that we broke up," she said bluntly. "Because of the warehouse thing and all. If they think I'm still dating you, they can keep on connecting me to the CIA. And then everyone will just be in more danger."
Vaughn reached his hand across the table to grasp hers. "But then you'll just have to sneak around even more. You already have to keep them away from SD-6 and the CIA. And now me?" Vaughn knew that Sydney's proposition was the best one. But he wanted someone, somewhere, to just know that they were together. He longed to be remotely open with Sydney, relationship-wise, around others. Even if it was just in front of Francie and Will.
She squeezed his hand. "It's for the best," she hummed. Vaughn gave her a silent look of understanding. "Thanks for everything. I--" she paused.
"I know," Vaughn whispered. "I feel it too."
They both smiled, and Sydney got up to leave, kissing Vaughn's forehead on her way out.
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Sydney's truck rolled down her street, but it's usual curbside parking spot was already occupied by a sleek black towncar. "Dad," she muttered to herself.
As soon as she shut off her engine, Jack Bristow stepped out of his car. "Get in," he ordered.
"Why don't we just--"
"Now."
Sydney glared at her father, but silently slid into his passenger seat. He climbed in and swiftly maneuvered the car out of her neighborhood. They drove in silence for around twenty minutes. Finally, Jack came to a halt in a vacant lot.
"Look, neither one of us has much time," he began. "I know you thought that Sloane finding out that Dixon was a mole would let you off the hook. On the contrary. It only made him more suspicious of you. He finds it incredibly hard to believe that you worked hand in hand with Dixon for seven years and never suspected him of anything. Your heightened suspicion implicates me as well. But since Sloane has known me longer and trusts me more, I am pretty safe for the time being. I bought you a plane ticket to Oslo, Norway," he said, holding out a ticket to her. "I urge you to go," he commanded coldly.
"Why should I? How can I even be sure what you're saying is true? After all, if Sloane doesn't trust you as much, how would you know any of this?" she demanded.
"Forget about how I know what I know. I have upper level clearance. I have access to pretty much everyone and everything. Now, time is running out Sydney. Get on this plane!" He handed her a slip of paper with an address on it. "When you get to Oslo, go here. Don't worry, it's not a safehouse. It has no affiliation with either organization. It's just a vacant condo that belongs to an old friend. Go," he repeated.
Sydney said nothing. She focused her gaze on the ticket and the address. She gave herself a headache from staring so harshly. Her father picked up on her uncertainty.
"By going to Oslo, a lot of loose ends will come together for you. And you'll be much safer there than here," he coaxed strictly, warming up a bit to his daughter.
She raised an eyebrow.
"Drive me to the airport," she asserted.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Shattered Snowglobe, chapter 6
Sydney's pulse quickened when Vaughn began to caress her face. As he leaned closer, Sydney closed her eyes.
-------
Vaughn too closed his eyes, blindly stumbling into the uncharted territory that was Sydney Bristow.
-------
Their lips met. The kiss was tender, but both of them felt immediately electrified. Sydney wrapped her arms around Vaughn's neck and he gently slid his hands down to stroke the nape of her neck. Their light kiss soon grew into a heated quest for more and more passion. Vaughn removed his hands from Sydney's neck, bringing them under her arms to massage her lower back. Both of them had voices in the back of their heads that were questioning what they were doing. But both of them knew that there was no turning back now.
Vaughn pulled away for air, gulping it in quickly so that they could resume their activities as soon as possible. But Sydney couldn't wait. She began kissing Vaughn's neck, causing a small moan to escape from his lips. Vaughn pulled Sydney's face back up to his with his thumb, and deeply kissed her as he moved over her so that she was lying down on the couch; he making quite a warm human blanket. He traced his fingers over the contours of Sydney's sculpted stomach while she roughly tousled his hair.
Clothing soon flew as Sydney and Vaughn erupted in amorous fury. Finally, they lay together, spooning on his couch and desperately vying for air.
"Vaughn," Sydney gasped, "you know this is going to change things."
"Is that a problem for you?" he said with a crooked smile and a peck on the back of her neck.
"Of course not," she beamed.
"Then we'll just have to be extra careful," he managed to sputter. Sydney had rolled over and was kissing everywhere across his bare chest and shoulders, making Vaughn hardly able to see straight.
"Maybe even bring a mattress into our new meeting place," she husked between kisses.
"Hmmm," Vaughn moaned in agreement. "And some blankets..."
Sydney lips intensely cut him off.
-------
Sydney quickly blinked her eyes, trying to block out the sun's stinging rays. It was morning. She rubbed her eyes and looked around. She was on Michael Vaughn's couch. Their bodies were so close that they were sculpted into one conjoined shape. He was behind her, one arm loosely draped over her stomach. They were covered with nothing more than a single afghan. Sydney smiled, soaking in the blissful morning, before cautiously slipping out from underneath his arm and rising, taking the afghan to wrap around her.
-------
Vaughn awoke from the most peaceful sleep he could ever remember having. Sydney Bristow had spent the night. The mere notion made Vaughn smile from ear to ear. He stood up and stretched as Sydney emerged from his bathroom, dressed and glowing, ready with a smile for a new day.
"That's no way to greet a woman!" Sydney jokingly scolded. She threw him the afghan. Vaughn blushed as he quickly realized that he was naked.
They walked towards each other and Vaughn swept Sydney up into his arms and kissed her.
"That's more like it," she sighed.
-------
Vaughn tore himself away from Sydney to make them breakfast. He opened his fridge and pulled out some eggs, playful juggling them. Sydney laughed.
"God, she's beautiful when she laughs," Vaughn thought to himself. "How do you like your eggs, madam?" he asked.
"Just scrambled," she smiled.
Vaughn made the eggs while Sydney set the table, absent-mindedly searching through his kitchen for silverware and plates. When they sat down to eat, Sydney took their rendezvous down a more serious road.
"I'm going to tell Will and Francie that we broke up," she said bluntly. "Because of the warehouse thing and all. If they think I'm still dating you, they can keep on connecting me to the CIA. And then everyone will just be in more danger."
Vaughn reached his hand across the table to grasp hers. "But then you'll just have to sneak around even more. You already have to keep them away from SD-6 and the CIA. And now me?" Vaughn knew that Sydney's proposition was the best one. But he wanted someone, somewhere, to just know that they were together. He longed to be remotely open with Sydney, relationship-wise, around others. Even if it was just in front of Francie and Will.
She squeezed his hand. "It's for the best," she hummed. Vaughn gave her a silent look of understanding. "Thanks for everything. I--" she paused.
"I know," Vaughn whispered. "I feel it too."
They both smiled, and Sydney got up to leave, kissing Vaughn's forehead on her way out.
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Sydney's truck rolled down her street, but it's usual curbside parking spot was already occupied by a sleek black towncar. "Dad," she muttered to herself.
As soon as she shut off her engine, Jack Bristow stepped out of his car. "Get in," he ordered.
"Why don't we just--"
"Now."
Sydney glared at her father, but silently slid into his passenger seat. He climbed in and swiftly maneuvered the car out of her neighborhood. They drove in silence for around twenty minutes. Finally, Jack came to a halt in a vacant lot.
"Look, neither one of us has much time," he began. "I know you thought that Sloane finding out that Dixon was a mole would let you off the hook. On the contrary. It only made him more suspicious of you. He finds it incredibly hard to believe that you worked hand in hand with Dixon for seven years and never suspected him of anything. Your heightened suspicion implicates me as well. But since Sloane has known me longer and trusts me more, I am pretty safe for the time being. I bought you a plane ticket to Oslo, Norway," he said, holding out a ticket to her. "I urge you to go," he commanded coldly.
"Why should I? How can I even be sure what you're saying is true? After all, if Sloane doesn't trust you as much, how would you know any of this?" she demanded.
"Forget about how I know what I know. I have upper level clearance. I have access to pretty much everyone and everything. Now, time is running out Sydney. Get on this plane!" He handed her a slip of paper with an address on it. "When you get to Oslo, go here. Don't worry, it's not a safehouse. It has no affiliation with either organization. It's just a vacant condo that belongs to an old friend. Go," he repeated.
Sydney said nothing. She focused her gaze on the ticket and the address. She gave herself a headache from staring so harshly. Her father picked up on her uncertainty.
"By going to Oslo, a lot of loose ends will come together for you. And you'll be much safer there than here," he coaxed strictly, warming up a bit to his daughter.
She raised an eyebrow.
"Drive me to the airport," she asserted.
TO BE CONTINUED...