Title: Just Feel
Author: Mango
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: Thanks for all the feedback, keep it up and let me know what you think.
~
Waking with him beside her she was forced to think about what had just happened. As if on queue he grabbed her hand that had been resting on his stomach and pulled it to his chest forcing her to mould herself to his back with her arm around him. She took that opportunity to inhale his scent and note the rough texture of his hand.
"I need you to come to France with me." He said. As he did she realized that those were the first words he had spoken in a good ten hours.
Without thinking she responded with defiance "Okay."
She was not sure how long they spent that way before he broke the silence again and asked her to book the plane tickets. "Where to?" she asked. This was the first question she had asked and she was starting to regret it when he just lay in silence.
"Versailles." He answered minutes later. When she started to move to make her way to the phone he held her hand tighter. "Not yet. Just … stay with me. Please."
So she did. For a solid hour they lay there in a comfortable silence when he mumbled something about taking a shower. She smiled because when he left her, she actually felt a loss. An emptiness without him.
~
They packed and made their way to the airport in a silence that was not only comfortable, but comforting. She drove on his request, but had one hand in his the entire way.
Checking in and customs went without a hitch and soon they were on the flight that would eventually change their lives.
She watched him as he stared out the window with an inexplicable sadness. As she did he interrupted her thoughts. "Aren't you going to ask why you're here?" He turned to gage her reaction.
She gave him a small smile and said "I figure you'll tell me when you want to."
He reached out and touched her cheek, she shivered with the same reaction as the day before. This time, however, he did not pull away, instead he put his arm around her and let her lay into him. "Thank you." He whispered into her ear. She relished in the shivers that ran up and down her spine and closed her eyes.
When they landed they made there way off the plane and through customs. A driver approached them with a thick French accent. "Mr. Vaughn. I'm very sorry about your mother." he said with sincerity. Sydney kept a straight face and placed her had through Vaughn's arm.
"Thank you, Pierre." He said, glancing over at Sydney. "This is Sydney Bristow, she'll be staying with me." He said and stood back while they shook hands.
Vaughn opened the door of the black polished car for Sydney and when she slid in he got in beside her.
He looked at her with an almost fear in his eyes. "Syd, I'm sorry I didn't tell …" but she cut him of by placing her cool fingers on his warm lips.
Shaking her head gently she smiled softly. "No, Michael. It doesn't matter. I'm just glad I'm here." She thought she saw a tear glisten his eye but he pulled her to him into a needy hug before she could be sure.
When they pulled up Sydney was in awe. Stepping out of the car she could not believe that such a beautiful home could exist outside the fairytale books. It was a large farmhouse style house with a veranda and gardens overflowing with every kind of flower imaginable. "Vaughn …" she breathed. He went to her and took her hand.
"This is where I grew up." He stated. "My mother inherited this home from her parents and so on."
"It's lovely." She said, unable to stop herself from stopping to smell the flowers that lined the drive. He smiled lightly watching her enjoy the small things of the place that he could always call home. When she looked at him her breath caught, it was the first time she'd seen him smile in a full thirty-six hours. And it was beautiful.
He gently tugged at her hand and led her to the door. Opening it he inhaled, as if smelling the moments of his past. The house was bright and homey and looked lived in. It was the kind of house she used to dream about as a child.
She followed him through the house and found that she felt completely comfortable, even though she had just stepped foot into it moments before. Her thoughts were interrupted with a voice echoing through the halls. "Michael? Is that you?"
He turned toward the direction of the door and stated "Annabelle." He started back toward the door and as he did a woman of striking beauty entered the hall in which they resided and ran into Vaughn's arms. "Belle." He said stroking her long dark hair.
"Michael, she's gone. She's gone." She cried as he held her.
"I know, Bella, I know." As he held her, Sydney suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable. Like she was a voyeur, seeing an exchange that she should not. With jealousy rising like bile in her throat she quietly slipped into a room that was off to the left of the hall way.
The room was lined floor to ceiling with books. By the window there was a mahogany desk and on the other side of the room there was a reading chair.
She started to sift through the books on the shelf. Tom Sawyer, The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, Ulysses, Utopia …She reached out and picked up the book which had given her so much grief in the past.
Opening the cover she saw the inscription "My Dearest Love, We will make our own Utopia. Your Loving Wife." Sydney stood dumbfounded at her discovery. Just as she was standing there Vaughn and Annabelle walked in startling her into dropping the book.
She looked over at Vaughn and he looked at her, his eyes boring into her soul. He walked toward her and bent down and picked up the book. "She put a key to this house in the sleeve when she gave it to him." He said, urging her to understand. She nodded dumbly and put the book back on the shelf.
