Title: "Recoil"
Author: Waterdancer aka AquarianLady
Email: jch114@hotmail.com
Website: none at this time.
Feedback: YES YES YES
Distribution: CD ALL DAY. Anyone else please ask.
Disclaimer: Anything Alias related (Vaughn, Devlin, SD-4,SD-6, Weiss, Donovan the dog) are all the property of ABC and Touchstone Pictures. It is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions. Diana Rochelle is mine.
Summary: A woman from Vaughn's past comes back.
Rating: PG-13 for language and NC-17 for the smut
Classification: Action/Adventure, Drama, and a dash of Romance.
A/N: Extra special thanks to Robin for putting up with me. If you do not want to read smut, stop reading when you reach the "***". Some people may not want to read porn involving Vaughn and someone else, so you've been warned. Thanks.
***
"You're the one that invited me, and you know that I like to snoop, Michael," she said as she stood up from her position on the floor.
"I trusted you to behave yourself in my home, Diana," he said, still standing in the doorway.
"You were always too quick to trust," she replied with a grin on her face. She winced inside; that was a low blow. She heard him draw a deep breath and saw a muscle twitch in his cheek.
She watched as he took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. He acted like it was difficult to even look at her, and she felt angry that he felt that way. She understood it, but it still hurt. She looked down at the ring in her hand. "You kept this?"
He stared at the box in her hand for several heartbeats. Finally, he walked into the bedroom and took it from her hand. He placed it on the dresser, before shrugging out of his jacket. "Yes, I kept it," he said, obviously struggling to keep his voice calm and controlled. It was too controlled, too steady. It sounded unnatural.
He hung his jacket on the doorknob. "I kept it out for a year after you left, hoping you would come back, and after that, I couldn't get rid of it. It was the first and only engagement ring I ever bought. It was important to me."
Diana's shoulders stiffened. "It was important to me, too."
Vaughn turned and looked at her. His face showed--Contempt? Disbelief? She didn't know which, but she knew it pissed her off. Reminding herself that he had every right to be mad at her, she struggled to remain calm. "You know why I left, Michael. Things were strained between us," she said, trying to keep her voice low.
Shaking his head, Vaughn seemed to look right through her. "Look. Let's forget it. It's the past. I didn't invite you here so you could give me some bullshit to make yourself feel better."
Diana took a step back in surprise. The Michael she remembered was the calm one, the easy going one. He let things pass with an easy smile of acceptance. "Bullshit? Make myself feel better? I don't know--"
"Yeah, you do, Diana." Vaughn sighed. He held out his hand. "Look, you feel guilty that you left the way you did. That's fine. Deal with it. You're here to figure out what happened in Barcelona. I wanted to give you a quiet place to think. Don't worry about the past. I'm not."
She looked at him in disbelief and shook her head. "I might feel bad about leaving you, Michael, but I sure as hell don't feel guilty. I left for good reason."
He grunted. "Of course you did."
She walked towards him, her fists pressed to her hips. "Look, our cases just kept getting more dangerous. You knew it; you even talked about us taking desk jobs because of it. But, I wasn't ready for that , Michael, and I knew if I stayed in the field, you would stay, too. The way things were going, I knew it was only a matter of time before something happened to you, too. I left to keep you from getting hurt."
"Right," Vaughn said. "I know. I mean, just knowing and caring about Diana Rochelle means that you are going to die, right? Rambaldi himself said so." Sarcasm dripped from every word.
Diana's eyebrow snapped up. "Who?"
Vaughn shook his head. "Nothing. It's all bullshit anyway. Why don't you just admit the truth, Diana? You left because you, Diana "I fear nothing" Rochelle, were scared. Scared of what you were feeling."
She knew she had to be looking like a fish, her mouth hanging open and her eyes bugging open, but she was stunned by his words. She couldn't think of anything to say. She never expected him to act this way. This wasn't him.
He stared at her, and then turned to look at the mirror over the dresser. He rolled up his sleeves. "Diana, I understand about your parents. I do," he said, frowning at her reflection. "You know that I lost my dad when I was eight, so I know what that does to you. But I never used that as an excuse to walk away from someone I cared about. Hell," he muttered, running his hand through his hair. "That's why I try so hard to protect the people I care about."
He turned to face her again, leaning back on the dresser. "I would have gone to hell and back for you. I would have helped you deal with your demons, if you had just let me."
Diana winced, stung by his words. Michael had always respected her feelings about her family. He had understood; he seldom talked about his father, either. She had lost her parents when she was a teenager--killed in a house fire.
She had gone from a loving home in the Lafayette parish in one of the many bayous of Louisiana, to staying with Aunt Louise in the city of New Orleans. Dear old Louise had been a sometimes parlor worker on Bourbon Street who spent more time drinking and traipsing about the city than actually looking after Diana. Remembering that time in her life was hard, and for him to bring it back up hurt even more.
Her fingernails tore into her palm, and her eyes flashed angrily. "You sprung that marriage proposal on me! What was I supposed to do?"
He started heading towards the door. "Figure it out, Diana." He stopped. "I thought I had finally gotten past all of your defenses. I thought you trusted me. Instead, I took one step too close and you ran," he snapped. He spun around and stormed from the bedroom.
"I left to protect you!" she exclaimed, following him out to the living room.
He stopped mid-stride. She watched as every muscle on his back tensed. He turned, and his eyes flashed at her as he hissed, "Protect me? From being hurt? Sorry, but you did a fucking lousy job."
He leaned forward and pressed further. "You left to protect yourself, Diana. You were scared. You didn't care enough about us to try and work things out. You were too busy thinking about yourself and your pain to give a damn about protecting me. We could have talked, taken our time. I wasn't in any rush. Instead, you turned to Patrick and joined his team. So, excuse me, but I really don't want to hear that lie anymore."
She suddenly felt numb inside. She had never seen Michael like this before. She resisted the urge to physically run away from the fight, because her dead friends needed her to stay here in L.A. The CIA needed to decode the information, or their deaths would be in vain. She would help break the code, and then she would return to the life she had before. A false name on a passport with a false history memorized. The pain she was feeling right now would disappear into the game.
"You're wrong!" It was a struggle not to sound upset. "I loved you. I did care about us." Besides her parents, he was the only other person in the world she had ever loved. "You know that," she whispered.
Shaking his head, Vaughn said, "Do I really, Diana? You told me that you loved and that you wanted to marry me. The next morning, I woke up to a note--a fucking note--telling me that you were sorry. The engagement ring I had just given you the night before was laying next to it." He worked his jaw from side to side, obviously trying to relieve some of the tension. "I had to go into work to find out that you had left with Patrick. Weiss waited in the parking garage so he could tell me. I don't know about you, Diana, but that's not love by any definition I know."
Diana took a step back and held up her hands. "You know what? Eric is the one who told me this would be a good idea. I should have listened to my instincts. I appreciate your offer to help, and I realize that you might have felt obligated to help out an old partner but your obligation ends now."
She started to turn, but Vaughn's hand gripped her shoulder. He pulled her around to look at him. Not hard but forcefully. "You are not going to walk away from me this time!" He put his hands on her arms. "Would you just stop running for once?"
Suddenly, she was in his arms and his mouth was on hers. She told herself to push him away, to fight him, but instead, she grabbed his head and began kissing him back with a passion she had forgotten she could feel.
***
Feeling Diana respond, Vaughn ordered himself to not think about why this was a bad idea. He pushed her against the wall and slammed his body against hers. He used his lips to punish her, and she responded in kind. The guttural groan she made in the back of her throat made the blood leave his head and flood towards the lower part of his body. He groaned when she pressed her groin into his.
"Diana," he murmured as his tongue ravished her throat. His hand found her breast and squeezed. His fingers tormented her nipple. She didn't resist him; instead, she continued to rub against him, causing his cock to grow rock hard.
She wrapped a stocking leg around him and pulled him closer. He knew what she was doing; she had always been the aggressive one in the bedroom. He had always let her be, had always enjoyed her forcefulness. But he wasn't the same man now, and he wanted to be charge.
He grabbed her arms and pressed them above her head. She stared at him with shock. She gasped when she saw the look in his eyes, and then she grinned and licked her lips. He groaned and pressed his lips back against hers.
Still holding her hands above her head, he reached behind her and tugged at the zipper on her dress. He heard the cloth make a small ripping sound as he yanked at it. Pulling her away from the wall, he lowered her arms and pulled the dress off of her. It fell into a heap at her feet.
She was beautiful. Her body was still muscular and perfect. Just as it had been--
No. He wasn't going to think about the past, because if he did, he would remember why he shouldn't be doing this, and he so wanted to be doing this.
Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her to him. As they kissed, they fell down on the couch. He heard a button hit the floor when she began yanking on his shirt. Her eager hands pulled at his belt. She grunted when it refused to open up for her.
His lips moved to her nipples as his hands moved down to help her. They both sighed in relief when it fell open and allowed Diana access to his pants. She didn't bother to unbutton them; instead she forced her hand down the front and grabbed hold of him. He groaned and sucked harder on her nipple. She pressed her lower body up against him to relieve some of her own ache.
His tongue trailed down the front of her stomach. She jerked when his mouth began to caress her inner lips. She gasped in surprise and moaned as his tongue began to devour her. His tongue was hard and demanding.
She moaned as she grabbed his hair with her hand. Her fingers clawed at the leather of the couch. Grinning, he sat up. He stared at her for only a second before sliding all the way into her. Her hands worked their way beneath his opened shirt and scratched his back. He responded by pushing into her harder.
Her legs wrapped around him, and he pulled her hips closer to him. Their groans filled the air.
"Michael," she moaned as she threw her head back. The last bit of her hair fell free from her braid; his fingers grasped it. Her back arched, begging him to join her in her pleasure. But he wouldn't let her decide the pace of this encounter. He was the one in control; he continued to push into her until he brought her to her second orgasm.
Then, he crushed her lips beneath his.
Every muscle in his body suddenly relaxed. He lay on top of her, sweating, gasping for breath. When he regained control of his breathing, he pushed himself up on his hands and looked at her. The expression on her face didn't bring him any pleasure. "Diana?" He silently begged for her to say that she was okay as he brushed her hair out of her face.
"I'm sorry," she said. She sat up, forcing him to do the same. She got off the couch and picked up her dress.
She continued to walk away from him as he said, "Diana, wait a sec--"
He stopped talking when he heard the click of the bathroom door. Sighing, he sank back on the couch and listened to the sound of the shower running.