Room Service
Part III
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Yes, I know it's been forever. But there were still some of you who were nice enough to review even after it hadn't been updated for so long, and I wasn't going to add anymore, but I hated leaving it unfinished. So, although there is probably no one who remembers what happened (I had to read the first parts over again…), here's the end. Sorry it took so long, but better late than never, right?…
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This couldn't be happening. This shouldn't be happening. Oh God, it was happening, and she still couldn't believe it. No, it wasn't, it couldn't be. It just couldn't be true…
He was so close, his breath was mixing with hers. They were breathing each other's air, essentially breathing in each other. Sydney had never taken such a crystal-clear and soothing breath in all her life. But it was too good to be true, it had to be…
"You do?" she asked, finally responding to his statement, her voice so low it was barely perceptible, her face so close to his that he probably felt the vibration of the words better than he heard them.
Sydney knew what she thought was happening, what she wanted to happen more than anything in the world. But she feigned innocence. She wished she could stop time, freeze the moment right there with his lips so close to hers. She would be able to handle not knowing exactly what would have happened between the two of them as long as this moment would never end, as long as in her dreams, it turned out exactly as she wished it would instead of disappointing her.
"Yeah," he answered softly, pulling back a bit and grinning at her. She knew he could see the swift rise and fall of her chest, her heart pounding on her ribs, jumping against her skin. "I think you know."
Sydney shook her head. She wanted to be certain. She wanted to draw him to action, to hear him say the words. She knew what was said about people who assume, and was not about to take that chance. Not with this. Not with him. Not on her life.
His grin turned sheepish, his face flushed pink, and he started to back away. She knew he was thinking that he had read her wrong, had crossed the signals, had screwed up; was considering that maybe she really didn't want this, didn't want him, after all.
But she did. Oh God, she did…
This was not something dangerous or life-threatening, but Sydney was afraid to act. If Vaughn had been trying to attack her, she would have been able to counter it without thinking, but this… Even minus the risk of sudden death or disfigurement, this seemed like the most important, the most difficult moment in her entire life.
She knew that if she didn't act, she would lose him, she would lose it all. Forever. Blown away like a puff of smoke in the afternoon breeze. Never to be seen again.
And on a whim she took his hand, pulling him back. It seems that some things, some of the best things, don't happen after careful planning and consideration. Some moments and actions would be lost without spontaneity, would be lost if people weren't willing to take a chance.
"Tell me," she murmured, the words barely finding their way past her suddenly parched lips. She had forgotten about the ever-rising temperature in the warehouse, the stifling heat that had caused all this in the first place. It came rushing back to her now, igniting her further.
He glanced at her questioningly, his free hand running nervously through his hair. The two of them were no longer agents of the CIA, or even adults. They were two gawky teenagers realizing for the first time that the person they had been glancing at across the cafeteria since the beginning of the year actually did like them.
But Vaughn still hesitated, even after her words. She knew that he didn't want to draw her to any unwanted actions, didn't want to force her into something she would later regret. His suave, carefree attitude had melted away with her insecurities. She should have known that it would happen this way.
"I want…" she whispered, unsure of what her next words should be.
…you to tell me. …you to show me… you to want me… I want…
"… you."
There was no other way to put it. No other way that was right. She needed him more than the bones that were just barely doing their job of holding her up; more than the oxygen that filled her lungs with each shaky breath; more than the blood that coursed through her veins, giving her life.
And that was all the encouragement he needed. All his reservations melted away, as he leaned in to her again, parting his lips to speak. But his statement never came; he couldn't seem to find his voice.
Sydney had never been sure exactly what to think of the phrase, "Actions speak louder than words." Of course, there were actions she knew that could bring a quick end to any conversation, but words could be harsh and biting as well. Sometimes even more than a well-placed kick, although there aren't many who will admit to it.
But today, at that moment, she knew that what they said was true. His words, had he been able to find them, would have been barely more than a whisper. But his kiss was screaming; thundering in her ears, echoing throughout the warehouse, deafening her to everything else.
All his shyness was gone as suddenly as it had sprung up, replaced with the confidence and burning desire she had seen earlier. And she liked it; this side of him that she had never gotten to see before, that she had never thought she would.
His hands were combing through her hair, tangling it hopelessly. But having to painstakingly tackle her way through the knots later would be more than worth it. She would have given anything to have this, absolutely anything at all.
She couldn't think straight, couldn't move. But something inside her shrieked at her to respond, and she obeyed gladly, moving with him against him until she couldn't remember ever touching anyone or anything but him. And the only coherent thought that made itself known inside her head, was that if she died and went to heaven, it would be like this.
All too soon, Vaughn pulled away and smiled at her. He suddenly appeared shy again, and for a second she thought she would have to yank him back toward her and ravish him in order for the events of just moments before to be repeated. But despite his bashful look, his hands were roaming all over her body, caressing her neck, her back, her waist…
"I've been wanting…" he gasped, still grinning at her, "… to do that for so long..."
"Then why'd you stop?" she asked breathlessly, pulling him back to her.
This kiss was sweeter than the first, something to be enjoyed and savored, not hurried through. Strawberries and cream on a hot summer's day. The fire and passion was still there, but dulled by something more, something that she was scared to give a name to for fear that that alone would frighten it away.
They pulled back together, not as desperate for air this time, the words easier to utter, but still difficult to find.
"Sydney, I… I don't even know what to say…"
"I know."
"Incredible."
"I know."
She was sure that her smile was so wide that she looked ridiculous, that her face would explode. She knew that the heat had more than likely rendered her face a bright, unattractive red. Add to that the bruises that were scattered over her skin, and she must have looked like some kind of circus freak.
But although Vaughn was looking at her, he hadn't noticed any of that. He looked past it, through it, beyond it. He saw only her.
"You are so beautiful."
"Not like this," she whispered; her voice wouldn't go any louder. There had to be something to this. It was some kind of cruel joke; someone would pop out and yell, 'April Fool's!' Good things like thi… No, great things like this… They just never happened to her.
"Yes. Even like that."
She was melting, at first just from looking at him and hearing his voice, but then because of something else. Everything swam before her eyes, as if she had suddenly been thrown into a pool of murky water. She needed to hold onto him for support, to keep her from going under, so she could still gasp for breath.
Clunk!
"Syd, are you sure you're okay?" he asked softly, still supporting her with one arm, but brushing the fingers of the other gently over her bruises. "Are you sure that you didn't…"
Clunk!
"…hit your head when you fell?"
His eyes swam into focus, and she could see the concern that lingered there. But as the world continued to jump in and out of focus, she suddenly wasn't so sure. She could have sworn last night that her head had been fine, that she had been able to shield it and it was the only part of her body that she had not bruised, but…
Clunk!
"Syd?"
Clunk!
"Vaughn, I…"
Clunk!
Each one was jolting her now, and before she had a chance to think, she was falling out of his grasp. Vaughn reached for her, but she slipped through his fingers, watching as he disappeared…
She jumped awake, gripping the armrests and scaring the hell out of the very antisocial man next to her. He nearly threw his book in the air, but quickly settled back into his seat, glaring at her and returning to his novel with an added fervor.
"Bad dream?"
It was Dixon. He was still sitting calmly next to her. They were still on the airplane, flying back from France. She sighed, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. She was still bruised and battered. She still didn't have Vaughn.
Clunk!
And Kevin Andrew Donaldson was still kicking the back of her chair.
Dixon was watching her expectantly, waiting for an answer. "Yeah," she responded. And it was true enough, it had only been a dream after all, and that's what had made it bad.
She closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair, but almost immediately snapped them open again. She would have to see Vaughn today, and whether it was because she didn't want to be teased with another dream, or she didn't think she could face him if it happened once more, she vowed not to close her eyes again. At least not until later that night…
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The End
