Hey, it's your lucky day. I hit a writing streak and made up for the day(s) I didn't update. Enjoy (and review)! -Jenn

Chapter 10: Washing it all away.

Sydney closed her eyes as the almost cold water ran over her face, through her hair, and down the length of her body. She had always loved showers. There had always been something soothing about the feeling of water running all over her. It felt so. . . cleansing. And it gave her time to think.

What did she think? She wasn't even sure herself. She had feelings for Vaughn. . . she thought he was sweet and smart and brave. He was definitely a good looking man who looked out for her, who knew everything about her, he was funny and caring. What exactly was wrong with him?

Nothing. It was her. It was all her. She was wrong for him. He didn't deserve someone carrying around the kind of baggage she did. He deserved someone like Alice. Normal, pretty. . . no secret missions or attempts to save the word one artifact at a time. Vaughn's own job was stressing enough.

She sighed. It had been an absolutely beautiful speech. She had seen everything in his eyes. How much he meant every single word coming from his mouth. And how much he wanted her to tell him that she felt the same way. But that was the thing. This wasn't a movie where everything turned out fine in the end. This was her life. And she knew that she didn't feel the same tingle she had felt with Danny. Okay, well she felt it sometimes but a person could feel that way about anyone for a certain amount of time. It was called lust.

And if he had asked her, she would have to agree. She was in lust with him. She admired the way he carried himself, the way he managed to be serious and compassionate at the same time, and she knew she felt the little thrill that went up her body when they accidentally brushed against each other.

But it wasn't love was it? She knew it wasn't nothing. Nothing was what she felt when Will had kissed her. It had been the most awkward thing in her life to have one of her closest friends just come up and mash his lips against her own. At the time she hadn't known what she felt about it. But she did now. It was WILL. How could she ever see him as anything more than a friend?

The water turned colder and she turned it off and toweled herself dry. She supposed she had believed that she would magically know what to do when she got out of the shower. She supposed that she would walk out there with a big smile on her face, realize how much she did love him and run into his embrace. Or that she would merely walk out, smile a sad smile, maybe shake her head and walk away. But she could do neither.

She put on his shirt and smelled his scent all over it. It made sense. It was, after all, his shirt. But it affected her in a way she hadn't expected. She took a deep breath and, after pulling on his sweats, walked out of the bathroom.

He was sitting on his bed, eyes intently set on the TV. It was some documentary about the birth of some kind of frog. He looked as if he was interested. But she knew he wasn't. She herself had been in the same type of situation multiple times. She knew that he was thinking about her, and whether he had been a hero for revealing his secret or a supreme jackass. He looked up as she came into his room.

And that's the first time she saw it. His eyes actually lit up when she walked into the room. In all her life, she had never been able to understand what that phrase meant. But now she saw. Though the rest of his face remained the same, his eyes took on a quality she had never seen before. A certain softness. Like he wanted to take care of her forever.

Sydney tucked her hair behind her ear, suddenly nervous of his inspection.

She was stunning. Her skin was flushed, clean and pink from the shower, her hair dangled on his shirt. . . HIS shirt and his sweats rode threateningly low on her slim hips. He realized he was staring but couldn't stop looking at her. She intrigued him in a way he never thought possible. How is it possible to see someone nearly everyday and still get winded every time you do? He knew for a fact that he was having trouble breathing.

He wanted to say something but there were no words. *Probably a good thing too, I think I've done enough talking for one day.*

Sydney sat down beside him on the bed and stared at the screen. Their expressions were identical, each looked completely engrossed with the program yet each wanted to talk. Or stay silent and preserve their friendship.

If it could be salvaged.

It was a good five minutes of silence before Sydney spoke. "So. . . certum toads huh?"

He smiled despite himself, "I guess so."

She looked at him, looked down at her hands and reached down into herself to pull out the strength she needed to talk. She closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she was ready to tell him what she felt.

She took the remote from his hand and turned the TV off. He turned to face her, emotions flying through his face. The most common one was nervousness. She took a deep breath.

"Vaughn. You are one of my closest friends, a dear confidante, an amazing handler, a compassionate soul, and a damn good looking man." Vaughn almost smiled but felt a sinking feeling in his heart. Weren't compliments used by women in order to relax their boyfriends enough to break up with them? He tensed. "I'm not going to lie to you. What I said last night was true. Well, it was a mixture of both the things I said. There are times when I feel like you are the only person who truly understands me. There are times when I feel like I can stay in one of your hugs forever. And I cannot express my gratitude and amazement at your behavior towards me last night. I know I was out of control. I never even should have come to your house but you remained ever the gracious host. You comforted me when I broke down, you looked out for me even when you didn't have to, you cared enough to comfort me again when I had that dream, and you were wonderful when you stayed with me.

I know that what I feel about you is far from nothing. Because I do have some feelings for you. I'm just not sure if it's love."

Vaughn didn't know what to think. Sydney didn't love him. But she had feelings for him. Should he be happy or sad? Or confused? He needed some answers. "Sydney, I'm not going to force you to tell me that you love me because then it wouldn't be true. But I have to know something. You say that you have feelings for me. Are these the type of feelings that you want to keep inside you forever or the type of feelings that you want to explore and maybe keep until SD-6 is gone and you can. . . express them any way you want?" He bit his lip. That was a little blunt wasn't it? Well, that was okay. He needed a straight forward answer and the only way to get it was a straight forward question.

She smiled at him. "I'm sorry Vaughn. I'm not sure. But I think I'm leaning towards the latter. My mo- my mother always taught me to heed my feelings. She told me that instinct was the fundamental tool for survival."

Vaughn looked a little happier. Or maybe just relieved. But he still wasn't sure he wouldn't have been happier if he had just kept the hope that Sydney loved him. Or could he. . . court her? Was she giving him that window? "Sydney, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Vaughn."

"What did you dream about last night?"

Sydney grew pale under her skin. "Why do you want to know?"

"I just wanted to know what frightened you so badly. I have never seen anyone act like that before and to tell you the truth, it scared me really bad. I didn't know what to do, how to comfort you. And I suppose I want to know what it was all about."

She looked down at the floor. "You did it right Vaughn. If you really want to know, you are the first person who has succeeded in calming me down and getting me to go back to sleep after one of those dreams. I had them almost every night for about a year after- after my mom died. It's probably not going to mean the same thing to you. It might sound silly-"

She stopped talking as she felt his hand on her arm. "Sydney, I would never laugh at you or think less of you because you are affected by your fears. I had dreams too. After my father died."

She looked at him. How was he able to read her so well? This man was amazing. She suddenly felt comfortable with him. "Well, in the beginning, I'm looking for my mother. And I'm calling out to her because she's running away from me.

And then it gets so dark and. . . and I can't see anything and I'm trying to find her but she's too far away-" A tear trickled down her cheek.

She gulped and continued. "And then I hear my father's voice. And he's telling me that she's dead. And I just can't believe it because I was just chasing her. And then - then I'm so scared because I think she died because I was trying to find her. And I ask him why she died and if she died because of me. And he tells me that it was her time and he didn't know why she had to die. And I feel so alone." She wiped her face with a hand. Vaughn regretted asking her. Why was he the cause of all her breakdowns?

"And then the mood switches. And something is running after me and it's my turn to be chased and I'm scared out of my mind and calling out to my mother. But she's dead. And it keeps coming closer and closer. I don't even know what it is. But it's dark and big and it tries to smother me in the darkness so that no one can see me anymore. I keep thinking that if I scream loud enough, my mother will come back. So I yell to her and I ask her to help me and I yell at the thing in every language I know but it won't stop chasing me and I feel it right behind me. And my mother never answers." She looks at him looking at her.

"Pretty silly huh? So basically I'm scared of the dark." She tried to laugh but only succeeded in pushing out more tears.

"No, no Sydney. It's not silly. It's not silly at all," He wiped away one of her tears with his thumb. "I know that if I had had that dream, I would never have been able to grow up as strong as you have."

She looked at him, smiling through her tears. She was tense, as if she had been living the dream while talking about it. "What was your dream?"

Vaughn's breath caught in his throat. He hadn't realized she was going to ask him about his. He could feel his own emotions brimming. Why was everything so emotional? He hadn't felt this much emotion since his father died. . . not all at once anyway. "I-. . . he-," he didn't know how to start. Sydney saw how husky his voice had become.

"It's okay if you don't want to tell me."

"No. No, I want to tell you. I want you to know." His face took on a look of determination. "Unlike you, I. . . actually was responsible for my father's death. No- don't interrupt me. I know I didn't kill him. I just feel like I did.

I was on a hockey team at the time. And I was so excited. Hockey was my life. My father was always away on business and had never seen me play. It didn't really bother me until he started promising he would. But every time, he had somewhere else to be, someone to see, something important to do. So finally, there was only one game left. It was like a pee-wee championship. And all throughout the game, I played so hard and scored so many goals. And they were all for him. And he missed it. My mom and I went home and he was already there, watching TV. I think that's when I snapped.

I asked him why he was at home when he promised to see my hockey game. He told me that by the time he was free to go, it would have been over so he had come home instead. And I-" Vaughn's voice broke. "I told him he was the worst father. I told him that he was never there for me, had never been there for me. I told him that the only thing he cared about was work and that I was probably a mistake. I told him-. . . I told him that if he didn't want me, I didn't want him.

And the look on his face. I didn't see it then but I remember it so clearly now. It was as if something had smashed into his face. He couldn't even respond. And my mother just stood there, tears in her eyes but unwilling and unsure of what to say. She knew it was between us. I told him I hated his guts and went to my room. When he came up to talk to me, I locked the door and told him to go away. I asked him why he wanted to - to- to talk to someone who didn't exist for him." Vaughn's voice was cracking now. Sydney put a reassuring hand on his knee.

"Oh Vaughn, your father knew you loved him."

He turned to look at her. "But I never got to tell him. Later that night he was called off to a mission where he was killed." His voice became clipped and Sydney gasped in realization.

She had known about her mother's actions but had always only thought of it as a hurdle for her and Vaughn to jump over. She hadn't even thought about how much Vaughn must've loved her to be able to forgive her for her mother's sins. She knew that he had said that she was not her mother and nothing was her fault but. . . she felt like it should be. And somehow, Vaughn still managed to forgive her and- And love her. She had never known his story before. She couldn't even imagine the effect her crying over the "death" of her mother last night had on Vaughn. Her mother had murdered him. Her mother had murdered them both.



P.S. You guys aren't going to mind if this turns into a long fic are you? Because I have a feeling that it's not going to be a run-of-the-mill 13-15 chapter story. I already have ideas about what's going to happen to them and the obstacles that come there way (They are really good If I do say so myself ;) ) but Syd and Vaughn aren't even together yet and I've hit the double digits. So. . . I hope you guys have the endurance to stay with this fic for a long time.