Strokes, Chapter 4: The First Stroke
Sydney sat down on the sofa and brought her knees into her chest, sipping from the glass of excellent riesling that Vaughn had filched from his uncle's wine cellar. She felt warm and comfortable and content. Her earlier doubts seemed so far away.
True, there had been a few awkward moments initially, as they had been unused to interacting outside of work. Sentences had trailed off uncertainly into nervous smiles, and he had seemed unsure where to tell her to stash her things when she had brought in her bag, finally directing her to a richly appointed bedroom done in reds and golds.
When she had returned after freshening up to the large living room that ran the length of the front of the house, he had sheepishly suggested that he should probably take a trip down to the store, since he had brought along only frozen dinners, cereal and bags of snacks. Somehow, the revelation that he was still a typical guy had broken the ice -- especially after she retrieved the three shopping bags of groceries that she had stopped for from her car.
Since it was almost dinnertime, they had set about preparing her favorite standby meal, lemon chicken with roasted vegetables. She smiled in memory. It had been *fun* moving around the kitchen with him, laughing, teasing, occasionally tossing baby carrots or grape tomatoes at each other. Their time together was so often tinged with stress, fear, sadness and danger, it had been exhilirating to simply be casual and carefree with each other. In fact, it had felt positively domestic. Ruthlessly, she suppressed the wishes that came to mind, the images of countless other evenings spent together in worryless comfort with no thoughts about being seen. They had three days now, all to themselves, and she was going to savor them without thinking about the future. After all, she had never even expected this much.
The door opened and Donovan ran in, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor, followed by Vaughn. "Good for the night, buddy?" Vaughn asked, patting him on his back. He straightened up and smiled at Sydney as she set down her wine glass, and she felt a shiver all through her body. Even though he and Donovan had been outside for only a few minutes, she seemed to have forgotten just how shockingly gorgeous he was. It wasn't the first time she had been caught off-guard by him. Sometimes, she would walk into the warehouse, and her first sight of him would almost take her breath away. It just made it all the more devastating that he honestly didn't seem to notice just how handsome he was. She didn't even think that he realized how attractive she found him.
She smiled back at him and said, without thinking, "I missed you."
His grin widened, and he sat next to her on the sofa, kicking off his shoes. "That was my plan all along. I slipped Donovan a doggie biscuit to go along with it."
She laughed, and then they sat in silence for a moment. It seemed full, almost heavy, burgeoning with countless unspoken emotions. And yet it wasn't awkward. Finally, he turned to her and said, his voice earnest, "Syd, I'm really glad you came."
She nodded. "Me, too."
Suddenly, a loud BOOM broke the silence. Sydney immediately jumped to her feet, all her senses on alert. "What the hell was that?!"
"Hey, they're a little early this year." He stood and grabbed her hand, tugging her along with him as he moved across the room. "It's OK, Syd. C'mere, I want to show you something. You'll love this, I promise."
He led her to a sturdy ladder at one corner of the room, then flashed a grin at her as he dropped her hand to take hold of a rung. "Follow me," he said and then began to climb. Confused, she complied, her mind not too preoccupied to notice the athletic ease with which he moved -- or the way the denim hugged his ass.
The ladder led up to one of the windowed turrets that she had seen from the outside, and as she reached the top, her eyes widened in surprise. The floor of the tower was completely taken up with an oversized mattress festooned with countless colorful pillows. Almost the whole of each wall was taken up with a large window, and even more amazing, the ceiling was in effect a large glass pyramid. It gave the illusion of being outside; in every direction she looked, there was black sky and stars.
He held out his hand, and she took it, scrambling beside him onto the mattress. She opened her mouth to exclaim in wonder, but before she could get a word out, the darkness exploded in bursts of red, white and blue.
She gasped and looked around at the shimmering lights that seemed almost close enough to touch.
"The neighbors -- well, they're about two miles away, but up here, that's neighbors -- own a fireworks company, and they put on an amazing show every Fourth of July and New Year's Eve. I don't know *how* they get a permit for it, but they always do. So far they haven't burned down the mountain." He grinned at her rapt expression, her face lighting up in a pink tint as another explosion lit the sky. "It's pretty cool, huh?"
"Vaughn, it's *incredible*."
"You haven't seen anything yet. Lie down. It's going to be a while, believe me."
She flashed a grin at him and complied, flopping backward with an almost childlike eagerness. He followed suit, and they lay side-by-side, silent except for occasional murmurs of approval or "Wow, that was a good one!" comments. She had always loved fireworks, but these were some of the best she had ever seen, each one seemingly more brilliant than the last. The spokes of color appeared to surround them.
After a particularly impressive burst that swirled and then faded away in dozens of starlight points, she turned to him excitedly. "Did you see that one?" she asked.
But he wasn't looking at the sky. He was gazing at her, head propped on his hand, and the expression in his eyes made her catch her breath. "No, I missed it. I had a better view."
She forgot about the fireworks. His eyes were glittering at her, his desire for her naked in their depths, and her body flamed in response.
This was it. This was why she had risked everything to come here, why turning back would have been an unforgettable mistake, why she had chosen to give in to something that had somehow become an inevitability. This was why she was, in spite of everything against them, exactly where she was supposed to be, where she wanted to be.
"Michael," she said, deliberately, the name strange and intoxicating on her lips, like some honeyed foreign alcohol.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his eyes searching hers, no doubt between them what was about to happen.
"Yes," she whispered. "Yes."
-------------
AuthorÕs Note: OK, thatÕs it for fanfiction.net. The entire story (along with the final chapter in all its smutty glory) will be posted at http://www.vartanho.com/fanfic/souris1.html in the next few days.
Sydney sat down on the sofa and brought her knees into her chest, sipping from the glass of excellent riesling that Vaughn had filched from his uncle's wine cellar. She felt warm and comfortable and content. Her earlier doubts seemed so far away.
True, there had been a few awkward moments initially, as they had been unused to interacting outside of work. Sentences had trailed off uncertainly into nervous smiles, and he had seemed unsure where to tell her to stash her things when she had brought in her bag, finally directing her to a richly appointed bedroom done in reds and golds.
When she had returned after freshening up to the large living room that ran the length of the front of the house, he had sheepishly suggested that he should probably take a trip down to the store, since he had brought along only frozen dinners, cereal and bags of snacks. Somehow, the revelation that he was still a typical guy had broken the ice -- especially after she retrieved the three shopping bags of groceries that she had stopped for from her car.
Since it was almost dinnertime, they had set about preparing her favorite standby meal, lemon chicken with roasted vegetables. She smiled in memory. It had been *fun* moving around the kitchen with him, laughing, teasing, occasionally tossing baby carrots or grape tomatoes at each other. Their time together was so often tinged with stress, fear, sadness and danger, it had been exhilirating to simply be casual and carefree with each other. In fact, it had felt positively domestic. Ruthlessly, she suppressed the wishes that came to mind, the images of countless other evenings spent together in worryless comfort with no thoughts about being seen. They had three days now, all to themselves, and she was going to savor them without thinking about the future. After all, she had never even expected this much.
The door opened and Donovan ran in, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor, followed by Vaughn. "Good for the night, buddy?" Vaughn asked, patting him on his back. He straightened up and smiled at Sydney as she set down her wine glass, and she felt a shiver all through her body. Even though he and Donovan had been outside for only a few minutes, she seemed to have forgotten just how shockingly gorgeous he was. It wasn't the first time she had been caught off-guard by him. Sometimes, she would walk into the warehouse, and her first sight of him would almost take her breath away. It just made it all the more devastating that he honestly didn't seem to notice just how handsome he was. She didn't even think that he realized how attractive she found him.
She smiled back at him and said, without thinking, "I missed you."
His grin widened, and he sat next to her on the sofa, kicking off his shoes. "That was my plan all along. I slipped Donovan a doggie biscuit to go along with it."
She laughed, and then they sat in silence for a moment. It seemed full, almost heavy, burgeoning with countless unspoken emotions. And yet it wasn't awkward. Finally, he turned to her and said, his voice earnest, "Syd, I'm really glad you came."
She nodded. "Me, too."
Suddenly, a loud BOOM broke the silence. Sydney immediately jumped to her feet, all her senses on alert. "What the hell was that?!"
"Hey, they're a little early this year." He stood and grabbed her hand, tugging her along with him as he moved across the room. "It's OK, Syd. C'mere, I want to show you something. You'll love this, I promise."
He led her to a sturdy ladder at one corner of the room, then flashed a grin at her as he dropped her hand to take hold of a rung. "Follow me," he said and then began to climb. Confused, she complied, her mind not too preoccupied to notice the athletic ease with which he moved -- or the way the denim hugged his ass.
The ladder led up to one of the windowed turrets that she had seen from the outside, and as she reached the top, her eyes widened in surprise. The floor of the tower was completely taken up with an oversized mattress festooned with countless colorful pillows. Almost the whole of each wall was taken up with a large window, and even more amazing, the ceiling was in effect a large glass pyramid. It gave the illusion of being outside; in every direction she looked, there was black sky and stars.
He held out his hand, and she took it, scrambling beside him onto the mattress. She opened her mouth to exclaim in wonder, but before she could get a word out, the darkness exploded in bursts of red, white and blue.
She gasped and looked around at the shimmering lights that seemed almost close enough to touch.
"The neighbors -- well, they're about two miles away, but up here, that's neighbors -- own a fireworks company, and they put on an amazing show every Fourth of July and New Year's Eve. I don't know *how* they get a permit for it, but they always do. So far they haven't burned down the mountain." He grinned at her rapt expression, her face lighting up in a pink tint as another explosion lit the sky. "It's pretty cool, huh?"
"Vaughn, it's *incredible*."
"You haven't seen anything yet. Lie down. It's going to be a while, believe me."
She flashed a grin at him and complied, flopping backward with an almost childlike eagerness. He followed suit, and they lay side-by-side, silent except for occasional murmurs of approval or "Wow, that was a good one!" comments. She had always loved fireworks, but these were some of the best she had ever seen, each one seemingly more brilliant than the last. The spokes of color appeared to surround them.
After a particularly impressive burst that swirled and then faded away in dozens of starlight points, she turned to him excitedly. "Did you see that one?" she asked.
But he wasn't looking at the sky. He was gazing at her, head propped on his hand, and the expression in his eyes made her catch her breath. "No, I missed it. I had a better view."
She forgot about the fireworks. His eyes were glittering at her, his desire for her naked in their depths, and her body flamed in response.
This was it. This was why she had risked everything to come here, why turning back would have been an unforgettable mistake, why she had chosen to give in to something that had somehow become an inevitability. This was why she was, in spite of everything against them, exactly where she was supposed to be, where she wanted to be.
"Michael," she said, deliberately, the name strange and intoxicating on her lips, like some honeyed foreign alcohol.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his eyes searching hers, no doubt between them what was about to happen.
"Yes," she whispered. "Yes."
-------------
AuthorÕs Note: OK, thatÕs it for fanfiction.net. The entire story (along with the final chapter in all its smutty glory) will be posted at http://www.vartanho.com/fanfic/souris1.html in the next few days.