The terrified screams of Vaughn and Sydney echoed shrilly through the
mountain. They were silenced only by the overpowering explosion of the car
meeting the rocks below...
****
Sydney screamed at the top of her lungs, thrashing around in her bed. Her legs and arms were tangled in the sheets. Gasping for air, she sprung up from the bed, eyes wild with fear.
"Nooooooooooooooo!"
She screamed in pure, abandoned terror, grabbing at the sheets, trying to ground herself. The image of the car sailing through the air was a burning image still fresh in her mind. She was still disorientated, stumbling out of the bed, squinting in the darkness for her dressing gown. The dream had been so vivid. She had felt the wind on her face, and the touch of his hand...
Suddenly, realisation hit her. She hadn't been worried about her own death. She had been petrified about Vaughn's. As if on cue, the soft knock of Vaughn's hand on her bedroom door met her ears. She heard his gentle, tentative whisper.
"Syd? Are you ok?"
Rubbing her eyes, she tried to focus. Everything was still a blur to her, apart from the burning wreck that she could see in front of her eyes. She was beginning to come back to reality, as the fear subsided. That morning, she and Vaughn had went to the hospital. Rubbing her arm, she remembered the cast being removed.
Her breathing returned to normal, and she looked around the now familiar room. It had all been a dream. Nothing bad had happened to them. Everything was fine. Vaughn was still alive. Putting on her gown, she walked quietly to the door. Everything from that day was coming back to her in short bursts.
She recalled the drive home. It was peaceful, not like the dream. They had driven slowly through the winding roads, taking in the scenery around them. They had even met Tom and Marie, and had gone for a picnic with them. Vaughn and Sydney had acted like a couple. Of course, it was only to keep up the pretense, but Vaughn had kissed her on the blanket that they shared that afternoon. The only thing was, Marie and Tom weren't there at the time. Even in the darkness, Sydney blushed. He had taken her by surprise. She had been thinking about the patch of grass under the blanket, when he had leaned over, and kissed her softly. She remembered blushing violently when Tom and Marie had came back. It was all for show, she knew. He hadn't really kissed her. They were under pretense. It was to cover their own backs. But she couldn't conceal the fact that she had liked it.
Pulling her from her reverie, Vaughn knocked on her door louder.
"Sydney?"
"I'm ok. Just a bad dream." She pulled the door open, and squinted again from the bright light in the hallway. Vaughn stood before her, wearing only a pair of blue boxer shorts. His hair was standing up at various angles, and he was rubbing his eyes wearily.
"You were screaming pretty loudly."
Even with her heart still pounding from the shock of such a vivid dream, the image of Vaughn standing in front of her, looking so adorable, as he peered out at her through thick lashes heavy with sleep, she couldn't help but smile.
"I'm fine. I just had a nightmare." She brushed past him into the kitchen. He followed close behind, still rubbing his eyes to wake himself up. He must be a heavy sleeper, she thought.
"I heard you shout on me."
She had her back to him at that moment, and thankful she was for the obstruction. Her face grew hot. Opening a cupboard, she pulled out a jar of hot chocolate.
"Sorry to wake you up." Heating some milk in a pan, she turned to face the dark window. It was just past three in the morning, and the mountains were pitch black.
"No," His voice was clear now, awake. "You were having a bad dream. Don't apologise." She nodded, still avoiding him. She didn't want to explain how she had dreamt they'd died. She would cry, and she didn't want Vaughn to see her so vulnerable. She was a spy, after all. "What was it about?" Trust Vaughn to ask the question she least wanted to answer. All those years in the CIA had taught him well.
"Nothing, really." She dodged his penetrating gaze, instead busying herself with the cup in her hand. "I was just dreaming about." She put the cup down. ".nothing. It was a dream about nothing." More for her benefit, than Vaughn's. She didn't want to admit to having such strong feelings for him. Everyone she ever cared about suffered, because of her. She couldn't put Vaughn through that.
"Couldn't have been nothing. You sounded terrified. I was ready to break down your bedroom door!"
In spite of herself, she pictured him doing just that.
"I'm sorry I woke you. I didn't realise I made so much noise. I'm fine now. Go back to bed. You're obviously tired." Her curt remarks gave Vaughn reason to be suspicious.
"Syd, is there something you're not telling me? How am I supposed to protect you if there are things you can't tell me?" He stepped up to the counter she was standing against, staring out the window. Taking the cup from the counter, he filled it with the hot milk she had boiled.
"Jesus, Mike! It was only a dream!"
His grasp slipped, and boiling hot milk slid down his hand. He jumped back in pain. She had called him Mike. She had never called him Mike before, when they were alone. He looked at her, complete surprise showing in his warm green eyes. She grabbed his hand, and dragged him over to the sink, and ran cold water.
He was still shocked, partly because he was still tired enough to have a few seconds delay before realisation sank in. She ran water over his hand, soothing the trivial burn. It was an excuse to touch him, she knew. The closeness of him was almost unbearable, as they huddled over the sink. Both knew that his burn wasn't critical, but the tender way that Sydney was soothing his hand, gave Vaughn no choice but to stand beside her, mesmerized. He could hear her soft breathing, he was so close to her. Looking down at her hand, gently tracing the back of his own, he inhaled her perfume. She had called him by his name. His first name. They weren't putting up a pretense this time. They had no-one to deceive this time. Tom and Marie were nowhere to be found. She had finally called him by the name he had wanted her to say for so long.
Even such innocent contact heightened Sydney's senses. She could see his reflection in the dark window, watching her with unmasked devotion. There was no delusion of the feelings they were sharing at that moment. She felt his hand move under her own. He laced their fingers together, still under the running water. The feel of their fingers together seemed to be a perfect fit. Their fingers slid together easily, and felt as natural as breathing. She couldn't tear herself from his gaze.
Without saying a word, he pulled on her arm tenderly to face him. Lifting his hand, he caressed her cheek. She answered his silent question by closing her eyes, and leaning into him. He tilted his head downwards, resting his forehead against hers. He tenderly brushed his lips against her cheek, and murmured softly in her ear.
"You called me Mike."
She gently traced her hand down his arm, feeling the muscle beneath her fingertips. Whispering, she replied coyly, "It's your name, isn't it?" He slid his hand down her cheek, under her chin, lifting it softly to meet his eyes.
"Yes."
Leaning toward her, he searched her eyes for consent. The glow of desire was enough to give him what he needed. Closing his eyes, he gently tilted his head, and brushed his lips lightly against hers. The first touch of their lips sent fire through their bodies. She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. They melted into one another, as the passion they truly felt for each other was finally realized. He pulled her close to him, arms circling her in an embrace he had dreamed about from the moment they had met. The kiss seemed endless. She could feel his soft lips crushed against hers, desperate for her. She matched his passion with an equal desire.
The piercing ring of Vaughn's cellular phone, sitting on the kitchen counter suddenly interrupted their impassioned embrace. They pulled apart instantly, the enchanted moment gone. Sydney took a step back from him, lifting a finger to her lips, sensitive from their kiss. Vaughn stared at her for a moment, dumfounded, before reaching for his phone. The call ID gave Vaughn an even greater shock.
"Who is it?"
"It's. Weiss."
"But."
"I told him not to call unless it was an emergency."
He stared at the phone for another second, before hitting the answer button.
"Michael Vaughn."
To be continued.
Thankyou for the reviews! Keep them coming! If anyone wants to email me, feel free! plebb_nebb@hotmail.com. Thankyou for continuing to read my little story. It's greatly appreciated.
****
Sydney screamed at the top of her lungs, thrashing around in her bed. Her legs and arms were tangled in the sheets. Gasping for air, she sprung up from the bed, eyes wild with fear.
"Nooooooooooooooo!"
She screamed in pure, abandoned terror, grabbing at the sheets, trying to ground herself. The image of the car sailing through the air was a burning image still fresh in her mind. She was still disorientated, stumbling out of the bed, squinting in the darkness for her dressing gown. The dream had been so vivid. She had felt the wind on her face, and the touch of his hand...
Suddenly, realisation hit her. She hadn't been worried about her own death. She had been petrified about Vaughn's. As if on cue, the soft knock of Vaughn's hand on her bedroom door met her ears. She heard his gentle, tentative whisper.
"Syd? Are you ok?"
Rubbing her eyes, she tried to focus. Everything was still a blur to her, apart from the burning wreck that she could see in front of her eyes. She was beginning to come back to reality, as the fear subsided. That morning, she and Vaughn had went to the hospital. Rubbing her arm, she remembered the cast being removed.
Her breathing returned to normal, and she looked around the now familiar room. It had all been a dream. Nothing bad had happened to them. Everything was fine. Vaughn was still alive. Putting on her gown, she walked quietly to the door. Everything from that day was coming back to her in short bursts.
She recalled the drive home. It was peaceful, not like the dream. They had driven slowly through the winding roads, taking in the scenery around them. They had even met Tom and Marie, and had gone for a picnic with them. Vaughn and Sydney had acted like a couple. Of course, it was only to keep up the pretense, but Vaughn had kissed her on the blanket that they shared that afternoon. The only thing was, Marie and Tom weren't there at the time. Even in the darkness, Sydney blushed. He had taken her by surprise. She had been thinking about the patch of grass under the blanket, when he had leaned over, and kissed her softly. She remembered blushing violently when Tom and Marie had came back. It was all for show, she knew. He hadn't really kissed her. They were under pretense. It was to cover their own backs. But she couldn't conceal the fact that she had liked it.
Pulling her from her reverie, Vaughn knocked on her door louder.
"Sydney?"
"I'm ok. Just a bad dream." She pulled the door open, and squinted again from the bright light in the hallway. Vaughn stood before her, wearing only a pair of blue boxer shorts. His hair was standing up at various angles, and he was rubbing his eyes wearily.
"You were screaming pretty loudly."
Even with her heart still pounding from the shock of such a vivid dream, the image of Vaughn standing in front of her, looking so adorable, as he peered out at her through thick lashes heavy with sleep, she couldn't help but smile.
"I'm fine. I just had a nightmare." She brushed past him into the kitchen. He followed close behind, still rubbing his eyes to wake himself up. He must be a heavy sleeper, she thought.
"I heard you shout on me."
She had her back to him at that moment, and thankful she was for the obstruction. Her face grew hot. Opening a cupboard, she pulled out a jar of hot chocolate.
"Sorry to wake you up." Heating some milk in a pan, she turned to face the dark window. It was just past three in the morning, and the mountains were pitch black.
"No," His voice was clear now, awake. "You were having a bad dream. Don't apologise." She nodded, still avoiding him. She didn't want to explain how she had dreamt they'd died. She would cry, and she didn't want Vaughn to see her so vulnerable. She was a spy, after all. "What was it about?" Trust Vaughn to ask the question she least wanted to answer. All those years in the CIA had taught him well.
"Nothing, really." She dodged his penetrating gaze, instead busying herself with the cup in her hand. "I was just dreaming about." She put the cup down. ".nothing. It was a dream about nothing." More for her benefit, than Vaughn's. She didn't want to admit to having such strong feelings for him. Everyone she ever cared about suffered, because of her. She couldn't put Vaughn through that.
"Couldn't have been nothing. You sounded terrified. I was ready to break down your bedroom door!"
In spite of herself, she pictured him doing just that.
"I'm sorry I woke you. I didn't realise I made so much noise. I'm fine now. Go back to bed. You're obviously tired." Her curt remarks gave Vaughn reason to be suspicious.
"Syd, is there something you're not telling me? How am I supposed to protect you if there are things you can't tell me?" He stepped up to the counter she was standing against, staring out the window. Taking the cup from the counter, he filled it with the hot milk she had boiled.
"Jesus, Mike! It was only a dream!"
His grasp slipped, and boiling hot milk slid down his hand. He jumped back in pain. She had called him Mike. She had never called him Mike before, when they were alone. He looked at her, complete surprise showing in his warm green eyes. She grabbed his hand, and dragged him over to the sink, and ran cold water.
He was still shocked, partly because he was still tired enough to have a few seconds delay before realisation sank in. She ran water over his hand, soothing the trivial burn. It was an excuse to touch him, she knew. The closeness of him was almost unbearable, as they huddled over the sink. Both knew that his burn wasn't critical, but the tender way that Sydney was soothing his hand, gave Vaughn no choice but to stand beside her, mesmerized. He could hear her soft breathing, he was so close to her. Looking down at her hand, gently tracing the back of his own, he inhaled her perfume. She had called him by his name. His first name. They weren't putting up a pretense this time. They had no-one to deceive this time. Tom and Marie were nowhere to be found. She had finally called him by the name he had wanted her to say for so long.
Even such innocent contact heightened Sydney's senses. She could see his reflection in the dark window, watching her with unmasked devotion. There was no delusion of the feelings they were sharing at that moment. She felt his hand move under her own. He laced their fingers together, still under the running water. The feel of their fingers together seemed to be a perfect fit. Their fingers slid together easily, and felt as natural as breathing. She couldn't tear herself from his gaze.
Without saying a word, he pulled on her arm tenderly to face him. Lifting his hand, he caressed her cheek. She answered his silent question by closing her eyes, and leaning into him. He tilted his head downwards, resting his forehead against hers. He tenderly brushed his lips against her cheek, and murmured softly in her ear.
"You called me Mike."
She gently traced her hand down his arm, feeling the muscle beneath her fingertips. Whispering, she replied coyly, "It's your name, isn't it?" He slid his hand down her cheek, under her chin, lifting it softly to meet his eyes.
"Yes."
Leaning toward her, he searched her eyes for consent. The glow of desire was enough to give him what he needed. Closing his eyes, he gently tilted his head, and brushed his lips lightly against hers. The first touch of their lips sent fire through their bodies. She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. They melted into one another, as the passion they truly felt for each other was finally realized. He pulled her close to him, arms circling her in an embrace he had dreamed about from the moment they had met. The kiss seemed endless. She could feel his soft lips crushed against hers, desperate for her. She matched his passion with an equal desire.
The piercing ring of Vaughn's cellular phone, sitting on the kitchen counter suddenly interrupted their impassioned embrace. They pulled apart instantly, the enchanted moment gone. Sydney took a step back from him, lifting a finger to her lips, sensitive from their kiss. Vaughn stared at her for a moment, dumfounded, before reaching for his phone. The call ID gave Vaughn an even greater shock.
"Who is it?"
"It's. Weiss."
"But."
"I told him not to call unless it was an emergency."
He stared at the phone for another second, before hitting the answer button.
"Michael Vaughn."
To be continued.
Thankyou for the reviews! Keep them coming! If anyone wants to email me, feel free! plebb_nebb@hotmail.com. Thankyou for continuing to read my little story. It's greatly appreciated.