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CHAPTER FOUR
Sydney had almost finished unpacking her things, when she smelled the inviting aroma of cooking. She turned to the wardrobe, admiring the choice of clothing Vaughn had packed for her. Not that she gave him much of a choice. Most of her clothes were for practical purposes only. It wasn't often she got to go on a shopping spree. Suddenly, something dawned on her. She hadn't unpacked any underwear. She hadn't actually seen any underwear in her case. Feeling her face flush with embarrassment, she walked slowly to the door.
"Uh… Vaughn?"
He popped his head around the corner. "Yeah?"
"I… You packed my case, yes?" He nodded, and stepped out into the hall. "Well… erm…" The redness spread to her arms, and her face went bright red. "You didn't pack any…" Twisting her fingers, mortified, she added in a quiet voice "…underwear."
"I did. It's in the side of your case. At the bottom."
"Oh… ok." She walked back into the room, just as Vaughn slipped back into the kitchen. His face was redder than Sydney's. She had no idea how embarrassed he became, packing her case. He had felt like a little schoolboy, as he opened her underwear drawer. Vowing not to look too closely, he threw as much of the material into the case as possible. He thanked every god available that he was alone when he packed her things.
Sydney walked slowly into the kitchen, and spotted Vaughn stirring a pot with a wooden spoon. He had changed into a pair of black jersey trousers, and a white t-shirt. "Hey." He looked up and smiled. "What are you cooking?" She leaned over, and lifted the lid of the other pot. Suddenly, she felt a sharp pain in her head. She flinched, and stood back.
"Pasta. You like pasta…?" He waved the spoon around. "It's a great recipe I learned in Napoli." He took the lid from her, and stirred the pasta. "How's the arm?"
"It's ok. I'm glad you packed some painkillers, though. It's still quite sore." She put her hand to her head, massaging a temple.
"And it will be for quite a while, I imagine."
"I guess so." She leaned over, past Vaughn, and looked into the pot. "What kind of sauce is that?"
He watched her lean in front of him, and almost forgot himself. She had changed into a pair of tight blue jeans, and a black jumper. She looked completely natural, which he loved. He had never really seen her this relaxed. It made Vaughn happy to see her at ease with him. "It's a secret. I can't disclose my classified ingredients."
"A secret? Better be good!" He winked at her, and almost made her melt. She pulled back, and walked to the living room. He watched as she settled down into a large sofa, pulling her legs around her. "What do we do until they find whoever is doing this?"
"We wait. We can't do anything from here. The best thing we can do for everyone is lay low, and make sure no-one finds out we're here." He lifted plates from a cupboard, and began to dish out the pasta. "Weiss has his best guys out there working on it right now. We'll find him, Syd. He can't hide for long."
Sydney knew he was talking. She could see his mouth move. But she couldn't hear a sound he was uttering. There was a thundering in her ears. He was putting the finishing touches to the dishes, as Sydney stood from the sofa, and walked to the dining table. He had set it out perfectly. She trailed her free fingers across the lace cover, watching Vaughn as he carried the two plates to the table. She absent-mindedly began to scratch the cast.
She sat down across from him, and lifted her spoon. "This cast is itchy. It's really itchy." She wanted to scratch it so badly, but she couldn't get past the cast. "How long do I have to keep this thing on?"
"Well…" Vaughn lifted his spoon. "If it's a hairline fracture, I suppose a few weeks at least. Don't scratch it."
"Easy for you to say. You don't look like you've broken a bone anywhere. I bet you've got a perfect body…" She stopped, face filling with a deep red flush. "I mean…"
He looked at her over the top of his spoon, eyes wide. After an awkward pause, he began eating again. Once he had finished a mouthful, he looked up. "I've had a lot of broken bones, actually."
"Oh. Ok." She tried not to look at him, instead staring intently at the plate in front of her. "This really is good pasta. Where did you say it came from? I know a great Italian restaurant not far from my house. It does great pasta." She knew she was rambling, but somehow she couldn't stop herself. Vaughn looked at her, bemused. She was flustered, waving her good hand around, talking about nonsense. "I went there a while ago, actually. Will and I were hungry…" She stopped, and looked up. "What did you do with Will and Francie? You never told me."
He shrugged his shoulders. "They won a holiday."
"A holiday? Wouldn't she contact me, though?"
"I had someone leave her a note in your handwriting. Saying you knew about the holiday, and that you'd see her when she came back."
"Oh. Ok then. So that's everything covered?"
"Yes. At the CIA we're very thorough." He looked down at his plate, hiding a smirk.
"I've noticed." She played with her spoon. The pasta was lovely, but she didn't feel very hungry. Her head was pounding almost as quickly as her chest. She sat back, and sighed. "Sorry, Vaughn. The pasta's delicious, but I don't feel very hungry."
He looked over at her, and noticed she was a little whiter than normal. "Are you ok?" He didn't want her falling sick.
"I've got a headache." As she said the words, her headache increased into a full blown migraine. "A really bad headache." Her hand went to her forehead, and she took deep breaths. "Vaughn…"
He stood from the table, crouched at her side in an instant. "Where does it hurt." He put his hand on her forehead. His cool palm was soothing against her hot skin. She still had her eyes closed, but she could feel his gaze on her. "Sydney…"
She opened her eyes a little. "I feel dizzy…" Her eyes fluttered shut, and she fell forward a little in the chair. He put his arm around her shoulders, and held her up. "I really don't feel well, Vaughn."
"I think you should get some more rest." He pulled Sydney to her feet gently, and slid an arm around her waist, supporting her. She faltered a little, and clutched to him. "Syd." She could hear the concern in his voice, but her headache was clouding everything. "Syd, look at me." She managed to open her eyes slightly. Just enough to see a pair of wide green eyes search her face, worry clouding their usual sparkle. "Your concussion must be flaring up from the long drive. You should be in bed."
She tried to move, but her legs wouldn't carry her. Vaughn lifted her into his arms, trying not to crush her cast against his chest. She was light enough for him to carry her without any struggle. He walked slowly with her through to her bedroom, her head resting against his chest. The migraine was a throbbing attack on her head, as she tried to make it stop. It only made things worse. He laid her delicately down on her bed, pulling the throwover softly on top of her. Her eyes were still closed, and her face whiter than usual. He didn't know what to do for her, except stroke her forehead gently, willing her pain to go away. As he smoothed her hair gently, he could hear her murmur.
"Don't leave me."
He placed his hand over hers, and whispered softly. "I'm here."
*****
Chapter five up soon. Please review! Come back soon!
CHAPTER FOUR
Sydney had almost finished unpacking her things, when she smelled the inviting aroma of cooking. She turned to the wardrobe, admiring the choice of clothing Vaughn had packed for her. Not that she gave him much of a choice. Most of her clothes were for practical purposes only. It wasn't often she got to go on a shopping spree. Suddenly, something dawned on her. She hadn't unpacked any underwear. She hadn't actually seen any underwear in her case. Feeling her face flush with embarrassment, she walked slowly to the door.
"Uh… Vaughn?"
He popped his head around the corner. "Yeah?"
"I… You packed my case, yes?" He nodded, and stepped out into the hall. "Well… erm…" The redness spread to her arms, and her face went bright red. "You didn't pack any…" Twisting her fingers, mortified, she added in a quiet voice "…underwear."
"I did. It's in the side of your case. At the bottom."
"Oh… ok." She walked back into the room, just as Vaughn slipped back into the kitchen. His face was redder than Sydney's. She had no idea how embarrassed he became, packing her case. He had felt like a little schoolboy, as he opened her underwear drawer. Vowing not to look too closely, he threw as much of the material into the case as possible. He thanked every god available that he was alone when he packed her things.
Sydney walked slowly into the kitchen, and spotted Vaughn stirring a pot with a wooden spoon. He had changed into a pair of black jersey trousers, and a white t-shirt. "Hey." He looked up and smiled. "What are you cooking?" She leaned over, and lifted the lid of the other pot. Suddenly, she felt a sharp pain in her head. She flinched, and stood back.
"Pasta. You like pasta…?" He waved the spoon around. "It's a great recipe I learned in Napoli." He took the lid from her, and stirred the pasta. "How's the arm?"
"It's ok. I'm glad you packed some painkillers, though. It's still quite sore." She put her hand to her head, massaging a temple.
"And it will be for quite a while, I imagine."
"I guess so." She leaned over, past Vaughn, and looked into the pot. "What kind of sauce is that?"
He watched her lean in front of him, and almost forgot himself. She had changed into a pair of tight blue jeans, and a black jumper. She looked completely natural, which he loved. He had never really seen her this relaxed. It made Vaughn happy to see her at ease with him. "It's a secret. I can't disclose my classified ingredients."
"A secret? Better be good!" He winked at her, and almost made her melt. She pulled back, and walked to the living room. He watched as she settled down into a large sofa, pulling her legs around her. "What do we do until they find whoever is doing this?"
"We wait. We can't do anything from here. The best thing we can do for everyone is lay low, and make sure no-one finds out we're here." He lifted plates from a cupboard, and began to dish out the pasta. "Weiss has his best guys out there working on it right now. We'll find him, Syd. He can't hide for long."
Sydney knew he was talking. She could see his mouth move. But she couldn't hear a sound he was uttering. There was a thundering in her ears. He was putting the finishing touches to the dishes, as Sydney stood from the sofa, and walked to the dining table. He had set it out perfectly. She trailed her free fingers across the lace cover, watching Vaughn as he carried the two plates to the table. She absent-mindedly began to scratch the cast.
She sat down across from him, and lifted her spoon. "This cast is itchy. It's really itchy." She wanted to scratch it so badly, but she couldn't get past the cast. "How long do I have to keep this thing on?"
"Well…" Vaughn lifted his spoon. "If it's a hairline fracture, I suppose a few weeks at least. Don't scratch it."
"Easy for you to say. You don't look like you've broken a bone anywhere. I bet you've got a perfect body…" She stopped, face filling with a deep red flush. "I mean…"
He looked at her over the top of his spoon, eyes wide. After an awkward pause, he began eating again. Once he had finished a mouthful, he looked up. "I've had a lot of broken bones, actually."
"Oh. Ok." She tried not to look at him, instead staring intently at the plate in front of her. "This really is good pasta. Where did you say it came from? I know a great Italian restaurant not far from my house. It does great pasta." She knew she was rambling, but somehow she couldn't stop herself. Vaughn looked at her, bemused. She was flustered, waving her good hand around, talking about nonsense. "I went there a while ago, actually. Will and I were hungry…" She stopped, and looked up. "What did you do with Will and Francie? You never told me."
He shrugged his shoulders. "They won a holiday."
"A holiday? Wouldn't she contact me, though?"
"I had someone leave her a note in your handwriting. Saying you knew about the holiday, and that you'd see her when she came back."
"Oh. Ok then. So that's everything covered?"
"Yes. At the CIA we're very thorough." He looked down at his plate, hiding a smirk.
"I've noticed." She played with her spoon. The pasta was lovely, but she didn't feel very hungry. Her head was pounding almost as quickly as her chest. She sat back, and sighed. "Sorry, Vaughn. The pasta's delicious, but I don't feel very hungry."
He looked over at her, and noticed she was a little whiter than normal. "Are you ok?" He didn't want her falling sick.
"I've got a headache." As she said the words, her headache increased into a full blown migraine. "A really bad headache." Her hand went to her forehead, and she took deep breaths. "Vaughn…"
He stood from the table, crouched at her side in an instant. "Where does it hurt." He put his hand on her forehead. His cool palm was soothing against her hot skin. She still had her eyes closed, but she could feel his gaze on her. "Sydney…"
She opened her eyes a little. "I feel dizzy…" Her eyes fluttered shut, and she fell forward a little in the chair. He put his arm around her shoulders, and held her up. "I really don't feel well, Vaughn."
"I think you should get some more rest." He pulled Sydney to her feet gently, and slid an arm around her waist, supporting her. She faltered a little, and clutched to him. "Syd." She could hear the concern in his voice, but her headache was clouding everything. "Syd, look at me." She managed to open her eyes slightly. Just enough to see a pair of wide green eyes search her face, worry clouding their usual sparkle. "Your concussion must be flaring up from the long drive. You should be in bed."
She tried to move, but her legs wouldn't carry her. Vaughn lifted her into his arms, trying not to crush her cast against his chest. She was light enough for him to carry her without any struggle. He walked slowly with her through to her bedroom, her head resting against his chest. The migraine was a throbbing attack on her head, as she tried to make it stop. It only made things worse. He laid her delicately down on her bed, pulling the throwover softly on top of her. Her eyes were still closed, and her face whiter than usual. He didn't know what to do for her, except stroke her forehead gently, willing her pain to go away. As he smoothed her hair gently, he could hear her murmur.
"Don't leave me."
He placed his hand over hers, and whispered softly. "I'm here."
*****
Chapter five up soon. Please review! Come back soon!