Part 3: Cinnamon and Sugar
A/N: This installment had absolutely NO spoilers within, with the exception of the meeting of Sydney and Alice. I had no details on this meeting or conversation, so their dialogue and the entire piece is all my own original work.
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It had been close. Too close. But the antidote was in her hands and soon it would be coursing through Vaughn's weakened body. She had been in constant contact with Weiss, who remained at his bedside since he first arrested. She wanted to know the minute his condition changed.
When the plane touched down at LAX he was still in a coma. His vital signs, however had stabilized.
The elevator to the fifth floor of the hospital seemed to crawl upwards. Syd was certain that she would have made if faster if she sprinted up the stairs, but she hadn't wanted to risk breaking the serum vials tucked in inside her leather jacket.
He'd been moved to a private room. Weiss was waiting for her at the door. "Still sleeping like a baby," he joked.
She offered a half smile to Vaughn's colleague and friend. She could see he was masking concern with his trademark humor. Pulling the protected cure from inside her coat, she suggested, "Let's wake him up."
Weiss opened the door and held it for her as she walked in. They'd intibated him; the horrible breathing tube was providing oxygen to his lungs. Monitors of every shape and tone beeped and whistled. She never wanted to see him like this again.
Straightening her form, she gave Weiss a forced grin. "I hope he's a morning person."
Weiss laughed, a quick chortle. "If that serum doesn't come with a chaser of black coffee and a cinnamon sugar donut, we're in big trouble."
Tucking that bit of information away for future reference, Sydney filled a syringe with the tea colored liquid, then pushed it's contents into the valve in his intravenous tube. She settled on the edge of the bed, waiting for the wonder drug to work it's magic. Her heartbeat evening out, the tension of her latest mission flowing out of her aching limbs and coursing through the veins of her loyal handler.
Weiss stood at the foot of the bed. She could feel the same tension easing its way out of the strong man's countenance. For a split second, she realized that he had been in the exact same position just weeks before. His life in the balance, relying on medical technology to get him through.
"Hey." she asked, and it seem to surprise him that she was addressing him. "You holding up okay?"
"I'm not running full throttle yet, but nursing sleeping beauty here wasn't exactly a strenuous assignment."
"Why don't you go get some rest?" "Orders."
She nodded, knowingly. "At least put that really uncomfortable looking plastic Barcolounger to the test." She pointed to the standard hospital issue chair. "I'll run to the cafeteria and see about that coffee and donut."
He didn't fight her. A sure sign that his body was feeling the stress of overwork too soon. When he'd settled into the orange monstrosity, she took her leave.
Twenty minutes later, she stepped off the fifth floor elevator again. She shifted the hot coffee and Dunkin Donuts bag, freeing a hand so she could open the door to his room. The door swung open just as she reached for the handle and a pretty blonde woman stood before her. For a moment neither of them said a word.
"Alice," Sydney half whispered.
"You must be Sydney."
She knew her name? Vaughn had talked about her? What was he thinking? "Your Vaughn's girlfriend."
She didn't deny it. "They just took him off the ventilator." Her shoulders rose and fell. "Doctor said he's out of the coma, but he still hasn't come around."
How much did she know? Sydney didn't know what kind of story the CIA had concocted for his illness, so she simply nodded. "Were you leaving?"
"I'll come back when he's awake. I just wanted him to know someone was thinking about him." She looked at Sydney's full hands. "Cinnamon sugar?"
Sydney nodded.
"I wondered if he took that craving to the office with him as well. You have no idea how many mornings I had to fight him to eat an omelet."
She didn't want to think about Alice's mornings with Vaughn. Did she say HAD? Did that mean she wasn't sharing his mornings anymore? And what business was it of hers what they did in with their mornings?
"I gave Eric my cell phone number," she said. "Please call me if he-"
"He's going to be fine." She touched the woman on the shoulder, a show of support.
Alice glanced at the hand on her arm and grinned. "When he used to talk about you - well, I - let's just say I didn't take to well to hearing about 'Sydney said' or 'Sydney did' over every dinner we shared. I can see though, that you've become an important part of his life. And I'm glad. He may be all smiles and shrugs, but inside are still traces of that lonely little boy. Michael likes to make you believe he enjoys his solitude, but the truth of it is - he needs people. He needs you."
"I need him too," she admitted.
"Coffee's getting cold," Alice said. "You have my number."
And with a brief smile, she was gone.
When she entered the room, Weiss was hovering over Vaughn's bedside. Worry washed over her. "What happened?"
Weiss laughed and turned to face her. "Yup," he said. "Looks like Agent Bristow successfully completed my counter-mission."
"Cinnamon sugar?"
She heard the faint, but familiar voice from behind Weiss's bulky form. Her head titled up, as she struggled to see passed him. Weiss moved aside, clearing her field of vision, which was now blurred with unshed tears. His eyes were open. A soft smile crossed his lips. And he was hungry.
"Got all defensive. Said I was taking over his handler responsibilities. It was just one donut, I told him." Weiss kept joking as he made his way to the door. "I need to go let Devlin know you're back among the living - a-g-a-i-n."
As Weiss exited, Sydney made her way closer to his bedside. "I don't think your doctor would approve of this." She lifted the donut bag.
"Since when do either of us follow orders?" he asked.
"Good point." She pushed the button to raise the head of his bed slightly, and then fluffed the pillow behind his head. Her hand brushed against his shoulder. Instinct told her to pull it back, quickly - but she didn't want to. He was warm and alive-and fluffing his pillow had probably been the most intimate contact they'd ever shared. No, she wouldn't move away. She let her hand rest in the comfortable curve between his shoulder and neck. Her fingers whisked softly over the two-day growth around his jaw line.
Sydney's warm fingers on his cool skin were like fire brands marking his soul. For the second time in little over two months she had saved his life. Wasn't he supposed to be her guardian angel?
"Syd-- thanks." Such small words for a world of meaning.
She pulled her hand away and the absence was like removing a woolen coat on a thirty below December night.
She reached in the bag and pulled out the donut, breaking it into four smaller pieces. "Just a nibble for now," she said. "You can save the rest for later."
He rolled his eyes dramatically. "I could eat a whole dozen."
"But you won't." She smiled at him. God, what that smile did to him. He stared at her lips, and absently wondered what they would taste like dusted in cinnamon and sugar.
She held out the donut fragment to him, but his arms were laden with tubing and monitors. She realized the mistake right away, hesitated for a moment and then lifted the confection to his lips.
He'd have to remember to tell Arvin Sloane - the next time he needed the perfect torture device - to lace Sydney Bristow's long slender fingers with sweetness. As he took a bite of the donut, he was positive the technique would garner its bestower with any detail she desired.
Her fingers never touched his lips, yet they ached from the quick departure as he chewed the small morsel. He was granted a reprieve when she reached back to his mouth with one solitary finger and smoothed the digit over his bottom lip.
"You had a little-" She motioned to her own lips, trying to tell him that she'd just removed some lost sugar.
She eased onto the corner of his bed. "Cinnamon sugar donuts and black coffee. I'll have to add them to the list."
"List?" he asked, curious.
"Of things I know about you."
His insides warmed. "Bring me another piece of that donut and I'll tell you everything from the first album I ever owned to my least favorite food." Torture. And he was a willing victim.
The smile dissolved from her face. What had he said? She picked up another piece of the donut and fed it to him. The torture had lost some of it's impact without the upward curve of her lips. "Omelets," she said.
He searched his memory for a time when he might have shared his dislike for egg-based breakfast foods. There was nothing. "How did you--?"
"Alice came by." She stood. The image of his ex-girlfriend now stood between them. "She was worried about you."
"You met Alice."
It was a statement, but she nodded in response. "She's really nice."
"Yeah, she's a good friend."
Sydney's eyes fell to the floor. "Everyone needs a good friend."
"Why stop at one?" He lifted his hand up away from the mattress. It was an effort and she recognized his struggle immediately, grasping his hand in her own. "You don't realize it, but you know more about me than anyone."
She raised her eyes slowly from their joined hands until she held his gaze with her own. "Those little details," he continued, "the favorite foods and movies and books, they'll all come in time. For now it's just really good to know I have a-friend who knows me the way you do."
Her brow knit and he could see that she was holding something back. Was it denial, tears, something more? He felt the pressure increase on his hand, as she tightened her hold. He responded in kind. A silent agreement.
A/N: More to come. next installment will have the new "watch" spoiler from The Passage.
A/N: This installment had absolutely NO spoilers within, with the exception of the meeting of Sydney and Alice. I had no details on this meeting or conversation, so their dialogue and the entire piece is all my own original work.
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It had been close. Too close. But the antidote was in her hands and soon it would be coursing through Vaughn's weakened body. She had been in constant contact with Weiss, who remained at his bedside since he first arrested. She wanted to know the minute his condition changed.
When the plane touched down at LAX he was still in a coma. His vital signs, however had stabilized.
The elevator to the fifth floor of the hospital seemed to crawl upwards. Syd was certain that she would have made if faster if she sprinted up the stairs, but she hadn't wanted to risk breaking the serum vials tucked in inside her leather jacket.
He'd been moved to a private room. Weiss was waiting for her at the door. "Still sleeping like a baby," he joked.
She offered a half smile to Vaughn's colleague and friend. She could see he was masking concern with his trademark humor. Pulling the protected cure from inside her coat, she suggested, "Let's wake him up."
Weiss opened the door and held it for her as she walked in. They'd intibated him; the horrible breathing tube was providing oxygen to his lungs. Monitors of every shape and tone beeped and whistled. She never wanted to see him like this again.
Straightening her form, she gave Weiss a forced grin. "I hope he's a morning person."
Weiss laughed, a quick chortle. "If that serum doesn't come with a chaser of black coffee and a cinnamon sugar donut, we're in big trouble."
Tucking that bit of information away for future reference, Sydney filled a syringe with the tea colored liquid, then pushed it's contents into the valve in his intravenous tube. She settled on the edge of the bed, waiting for the wonder drug to work it's magic. Her heartbeat evening out, the tension of her latest mission flowing out of her aching limbs and coursing through the veins of her loyal handler.
Weiss stood at the foot of the bed. She could feel the same tension easing its way out of the strong man's countenance. For a split second, she realized that he had been in the exact same position just weeks before. His life in the balance, relying on medical technology to get him through.
"Hey." she asked, and it seem to surprise him that she was addressing him. "You holding up okay?"
"I'm not running full throttle yet, but nursing sleeping beauty here wasn't exactly a strenuous assignment."
"Why don't you go get some rest?" "Orders."
She nodded, knowingly. "At least put that really uncomfortable looking plastic Barcolounger to the test." She pointed to the standard hospital issue chair. "I'll run to the cafeteria and see about that coffee and donut."
He didn't fight her. A sure sign that his body was feeling the stress of overwork too soon. When he'd settled into the orange monstrosity, she took her leave.
Twenty minutes later, she stepped off the fifth floor elevator again. She shifted the hot coffee and Dunkin Donuts bag, freeing a hand so she could open the door to his room. The door swung open just as she reached for the handle and a pretty blonde woman stood before her. For a moment neither of them said a word.
"Alice," Sydney half whispered.
"You must be Sydney."
She knew her name? Vaughn had talked about her? What was he thinking? "Your Vaughn's girlfriend."
She didn't deny it. "They just took him off the ventilator." Her shoulders rose and fell. "Doctor said he's out of the coma, but he still hasn't come around."
How much did she know? Sydney didn't know what kind of story the CIA had concocted for his illness, so she simply nodded. "Were you leaving?"
"I'll come back when he's awake. I just wanted him to know someone was thinking about him." She looked at Sydney's full hands. "Cinnamon sugar?"
Sydney nodded.
"I wondered if he took that craving to the office with him as well. You have no idea how many mornings I had to fight him to eat an omelet."
She didn't want to think about Alice's mornings with Vaughn. Did she say HAD? Did that mean she wasn't sharing his mornings anymore? And what business was it of hers what they did in with their mornings?
"I gave Eric my cell phone number," she said. "Please call me if he-"
"He's going to be fine." She touched the woman on the shoulder, a show of support.
Alice glanced at the hand on her arm and grinned. "When he used to talk about you - well, I - let's just say I didn't take to well to hearing about 'Sydney said' or 'Sydney did' over every dinner we shared. I can see though, that you've become an important part of his life. And I'm glad. He may be all smiles and shrugs, but inside are still traces of that lonely little boy. Michael likes to make you believe he enjoys his solitude, but the truth of it is - he needs people. He needs you."
"I need him too," she admitted.
"Coffee's getting cold," Alice said. "You have my number."
And with a brief smile, she was gone.
When she entered the room, Weiss was hovering over Vaughn's bedside. Worry washed over her. "What happened?"
Weiss laughed and turned to face her. "Yup," he said. "Looks like Agent Bristow successfully completed my counter-mission."
"Cinnamon sugar?"
She heard the faint, but familiar voice from behind Weiss's bulky form. Her head titled up, as she struggled to see passed him. Weiss moved aside, clearing her field of vision, which was now blurred with unshed tears. His eyes were open. A soft smile crossed his lips. And he was hungry.
"Got all defensive. Said I was taking over his handler responsibilities. It was just one donut, I told him." Weiss kept joking as he made his way to the door. "I need to go let Devlin know you're back among the living - a-g-a-i-n."
As Weiss exited, Sydney made her way closer to his bedside. "I don't think your doctor would approve of this." She lifted the donut bag.
"Since when do either of us follow orders?" he asked.
"Good point." She pushed the button to raise the head of his bed slightly, and then fluffed the pillow behind his head. Her hand brushed against his shoulder. Instinct told her to pull it back, quickly - but she didn't want to. He was warm and alive-and fluffing his pillow had probably been the most intimate contact they'd ever shared. No, she wouldn't move away. She let her hand rest in the comfortable curve between his shoulder and neck. Her fingers whisked softly over the two-day growth around his jaw line.
Sydney's warm fingers on his cool skin were like fire brands marking his soul. For the second time in little over two months she had saved his life. Wasn't he supposed to be her guardian angel?
"Syd-- thanks." Such small words for a world of meaning.
She pulled her hand away and the absence was like removing a woolen coat on a thirty below December night.
She reached in the bag and pulled out the donut, breaking it into four smaller pieces. "Just a nibble for now," she said. "You can save the rest for later."
He rolled his eyes dramatically. "I could eat a whole dozen."
"But you won't." She smiled at him. God, what that smile did to him. He stared at her lips, and absently wondered what they would taste like dusted in cinnamon and sugar.
She held out the donut fragment to him, but his arms were laden with tubing and monitors. She realized the mistake right away, hesitated for a moment and then lifted the confection to his lips.
He'd have to remember to tell Arvin Sloane - the next time he needed the perfect torture device - to lace Sydney Bristow's long slender fingers with sweetness. As he took a bite of the donut, he was positive the technique would garner its bestower with any detail she desired.
Her fingers never touched his lips, yet they ached from the quick departure as he chewed the small morsel. He was granted a reprieve when she reached back to his mouth with one solitary finger and smoothed the digit over his bottom lip.
"You had a little-" She motioned to her own lips, trying to tell him that she'd just removed some lost sugar.
She eased onto the corner of his bed. "Cinnamon sugar donuts and black coffee. I'll have to add them to the list."
"List?" he asked, curious.
"Of things I know about you."
His insides warmed. "Bring me another piece of that donut and I'll tell you everything from the first album I ever owned to my least favorite food." Torture. And he was a willing victim.
The smile dissolved from her face. What had he said? She picked up another piece of the donut and fed it to him. The torture had lost some of it's impact without the upward curve of her lips. "Omelets," she said.
He searched his memory for a time when he might have shared his dislike for egg-based breakfast foods. There was nothing. "How did you--?"
"Alice came by." She stood. The image of his ex-girlfriend now stood between them. "She was worried about you."
"You met Alice."
It was a statement, but she nodded in response. "She's really nice."
"Yeah, she's a good friend."
Sydney's eyes fell to the floor. "Everyone needs a good friend."
"Why stop at one?" He lifted his hand up away from the mattress. It was an effort and she recognized his struggle immediately, grasping his hand in her own. "You don't realize it, but you know more about me than anyone."
She raised her eyes slowly from their joined hands until she held his gaze with her own. "Those little details," he continued, "the favorite foods and movies and books, they'll all come in time. For now it's just really good to know I have a-friend who knows me the way you do."
Her brow knit and he could see that she was holding something back. Was it denial, tears, something more? He felt the pressure increase on his hand, as she tightened her hold. He responded in kind. A silent agreement.
A/N: More to come. next installment will have the new "watch" spoiler from The Passage.