Everyday Peril

Chapter 3: O My Old Fears!

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Kathryn, sorry I didn't see your first review before I posted the second chapter, but there will be a plot, I promise. I guess you could say that eventually, everything will sort of come crashing together… One Legged Hooker Jane Barbie, that is a very interesting alias. Thanks for the reviews from both you and Karmen. I'm glad you like it… Lainie, I cannot believe that you took the time to read all of those stories. Every time someone tells me that, it amazes me… Becky, you are definitely not the craziest person alive. Thanks for sticking with me, both here and at SD-1… Thank you so much for reading, everyone. And especially for the kind reviews. They really make my day!

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"Don't you think we should just call once to make sure they're all right?"

Michael sighed. Sydney was a tense bundle of nerves next to him in the car, anxious of what might happen to their children in one short weekend away. He had been trying his best to soothe her since they had dropped them off, but…

"Of course I do, sweetheart," he answered patiently, quickly putting a hand over his cell phone as she reached down to snatch it. "But I think we should at least wait until we get there."

Sydney frowned, momentarily upset that his quick reflexes had out-moved her own. "But what if we hit traffic or something? A lot could happen before we get there."

"Syd, we only dropped them off half an hour ago."

"I know, but…" She trailed off and crossed her arms. Michael reached over to change the radio station but stopped when she spoke up again, "Mike, Jonny bumped his head on the coffee table yesterday. I think we should call your mother and tell her to watch him for any signs of…"

"It's just a little bump, Syd. And it happened yesterday. He's not going to get a concussion."

"You're probably right." She settled into her seat, but quickly leaned forward and began flipping through the radio stations, not able to find anything she liked.

"Okay. Now, can you relax? We're going to have a nice weekend together. Alone."

Alone. Alone. Alone. The word seemed to echo in his head. When was the last time they had been alone? When was the last time they didn't have to worry if the door was locked or if the kids were asleep? When was the last time that they could take an entire day of just the two of them, no interruptions?

"It will be nice," she nodded, finally settling into her seat.

"You know, baby," he continued, turning to give her a dimpled smile. "We can do it as long as we want, whenever we want."

"Mmm…" she agreed, closing her eyes and letting the image of his smile on her eyelids melt her. Almost. Beneath her closed eyes, Michael's smile transformed into William's, and just as quickly, William's happy little face burst into tears.

"Mike?" Her eyes snapped open, her voice once again frantic. "I don't think we gave William's blankie to your mother. You know he can't sleep without it."

"Honey, I gave it to her." Along with anything else either of the twins might possibly need for the next thirty-two hours. Hell, those boys were set for the next thirty-two days without question.

"You're sure?"

He was trying as hard as he could not to lose his patience, but one guy could only take so much. They rarely fought, but they were both so stubborn that when they did things could get ugly. Making up would be nice, it always was, but a good part of the day would be ruined. "If I closed my eyes right now, I'd see myself giving it to her and telling her to make sure William had it when he went to bed," he said, unable to resist adding, "And then I'd go careening off the highway… I gave it to her. I promise."

"Okay. I trust you."

"Good."

There was a pause, and Michael relaxed, allowing himself to believe that maybe she was finished. And then she spoke again, shattering any hope for that. "But did you tell your sister that Hailey's allergic to walnuts?"

"No," Michael answered, moving his cell phone to the other side of his seat before she even had a chance to grab for it.

"What?!" Sydney's eyes grew wide and sure enough, she reached for the phone, glaring at him angrily when she found it missing.

"You told her," he continued calmly. "Besides, I think the whole family knows about Hailey's allergy, Jacky included…"

"What if somebody else gives her something with walnuts in it?"

"Hailey knows to ask, Syd." They had her so well trained that the poor little girl would ask before eating almost anything: brownies, potato salad, lasagna... Next, they had to teach her when to be tactful and show her that it was impolite to embarrass their hostess by accusing her of putting walnuts in the macaroni and cheese.

"But remember what happened…?" Of course he did. It had scared the hell out of both of them.

"That was the first and the last time," he interrupted. "Almost all of our family and friends were at that picnic, and no one has put nuts in their cookies since." Michael sighed and tightened his grip on the wheel. This was turning out to be a very long ride. Not that he could blame her; Sydney hadn't been without her children since they were born, and after everything that happened leading up to Hailey's birth, they couldn't be too careful. But things had been fine since then, and Michael was beginning to think that the kids should have spent nights with Grandma more often. Sydney really needed this break.

But he couldn't help smiling as he remembered Hailey's last words to him before she had kissed them goodbye. The little girl had taken one look at her mother, who had been in the kitchen still giving instructions to her aunt, and turned to her father. "Be good to mommy," she had whispered solemnly. "She's not gonna have me to take care of her."

Michael glanced over at his frazzled, worried wife. Maybe his daughter had been right. He would have thought that having the kids along would have made her even more frantic. It was strange and almost ironic to think that a four-year-old could have had such a calming presence.

"I think we should definitely call her and remind her just in case." Sydney was already digging in her purse for her phone, and somehow Michael managed to snatch it from her before she could dial the number, his nails accidentally scratching her hand.

"Oww! Dammit, Michael!" Sydney jerked her hand back, immediately putting her fingers into her mouth.

"I'm sorry, baby. Are you okay?" He tenderly covered her hand with his own, but she quickly shook it off.

"Yes, I mean, no! You're not taking this seriously at all!"

Hurt and anger flashed in her eyes, but he had had enough. "You know, you're right," Michael sighed. "Something really awful could happen to our children while we are gone. I'm sure that anything that attacked the United States at this moment for any reason at all would be sure to go after the Vaughn children first, screw the president and the White House."

Sydney was silent. "Michael?" she asked after a moment, her voice soft. "I'm sorry. I was being a little ridiculous."

"It's okay, Syd. I'm sorry, too. You are right. A million things could happen to them while we're gone. But there are a million things that can happen when we're there and there's nothing we can do to prevent them."

Sydney nodded. A quick glance into her eyes told him that she had finally given in, completely agreeing. She was finally going to relax.

"So, let's just enjoy our little vacation, okay, baby?" He reached down and put a hand on her leg, covering her own. Sydney was silent for a moment before responding, simply enjoying his touch.

"You mean like this?" she asked, leaning over and nibbling on his ear. Michael grinned, glad that Sydney had finally come to terms with the idea that not having the children with them could actually be a good thing.

"And this?" she continued, dropping her lips to his neck and running a hand over his thigh before he even had a chance to respond to her first question. Scratch that; it could be a great thing, amazing, magnificent, wonderful, fantastic, too tremendous for words…

"Sydney," he breathed. "Wait until…" He groaned as her hand traveled higher, wiggling in his seat. "Hotel, Syd. Hotel," he managed to squeak out. "Car moving. Not a good thing." She had rendered him practically speechless, as she had innumerable times before.

She laughed against his throat, inching her hand just high enough to brush against where he was beginning to ache for her most before breaking all contact with him and moving back to her seat.

"Look at that, Mike," she mused after a moment, giving him time to catch his breath and glancing behind her. "No car seats. We have the whole back seat. And when the car is not moving…"

"Syd…" he groaned, not letting himself look at her, knowing that with just one glance, he would take her up on that offer right on the side of the highway.

She laughed again, a sound that in itself was almost enough to send him over the edge. "Just keep your eyes on the road." It would be difficult as all hell, but God he would try…

"Well, Mike, we're in the hotel," Syd stated, cornering him almost before the bellhop had closed the door.

"Five minutes, Syd." She inched closer to him, running a hand up his arm. "Three, two… thirty seconds…" He gasped as she placed a feather-light kiss into the hollow of his neck. "Hold on, just for a sec," he said, pushing her away. "We promised we'd call my mother as soon as we got here to…"

"It can wait ten minutes."

"Ten minutes! You think that's all I…" he began and then stopped, remembering what he had been saying in the first place. "No, Syd. My mom, she has like Mother ESP or something. She'd know. It'll just take a minute."

"Alright," Sydney acquiesced, sitting on the edge of the bed, not taking her eyes off him.

"Thank you," Michael said, ignoring her burning gaze and taking a seat next to her and pressing his mother's number on his speed dial. He waited for her to pick up, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Hi Mo-ahh-m…"

Sydney had swung herself over his legs, straddling him. He gave her a warning glance. She smiled innocently, placing her hands on his shoulders.

"No, I'm fine. I just… tripped over something…"

He struggled to maintain control as his wife trailed her hands down his arms and up his chest, making quick work of the buttons on his shirt.

"Yes, we're here. And the… the boys… are fine?"

He tried not to sound any different than he normally would have, but was failing miserably. He was starting to sweat, and not just because Sydney had returned her lips to his throat. He was on the phone with his mother, for God's sake. The woman who had given birth to him, changed his diapers, and tucked him in at night. He didn't want her to know that Sydney was…

"Okay, Mom, I…" His voice cracked like a pre-pubescent boy's. Oh dear Lord… "I have to go… Oh, yes, she's… she's right here." He handed the phone to Sydney, who immediately jumped off him. He lay back on the bed, his legs still dangling off the edge, glad that that humiliating moment was finally over. As much as he had liked to believe it when he was thirteen years old, he knew know that his mother wasn't stupid. She knew exactly what was going on. He could tell by her tone of voice, the way she said, "I'm sure you're having a good time, Michael." He knew that if he could see her, her eyes would be twinkling, her lips curling upward on the verge of laughter

"Hi Mom!" Sydney said brightly, sounding as if she had just stepped away from a good book, not from seducing her husband. "Yes, it's gorgeous here!… Well, I'm sure we will. Thank you… Oh my!" She paused, almost choking with laughter, and Michael was starting to worry about what his mother could have possibly told her. "Yes, well, give the boys a kiss for me… I will… Thanks again… Bye!" She tossed the phone onto the desk and returned to Michael's side.

"What has gotten into you?" he asked before she could start anything else. She sure had had a quick change of heart. Not that he was complaining…

"Nothing," she laughed, leaning in to kiss him. "I just love you. And there are no kids here…"

"Hold on," he commanded, sitting up and pushing her gently back, his eyes suddenly serious, but unable to completely lose the gleam that sparkled within them. He had some unfinished business to attend to.

"Mike!" she whined, struggling to get back to him, but he held her firmly at arm's length.

"What did my mother tell you?"

Sydney erupted in laughter, the sound of it melting him. She was doubled over, her shoulders shaking, and when she finally brought her head up to look at him, there were tears in her eyes. She had been so stressed out lately; it was nice to finally see her laugh.

"Oh, Mike…" she began, trying to wipe the grin off her face, but unable to prevent it from popping back up, her lips quivering as she tried to hold in the laughter.

"Syd, it can't possibly be that…"

Her laughter began again, the tears steaming down her cheeks this time as she grasped his arm for support. "I'm sorry…" she gasped, trying to catch her breath and noticing that his face was beginning to turn red. "Oh, Mike," she said, softly this time, grinning at him sympathetically. He let her move closer to him and wrap his arms around her. "It's just that…" she looked away, shoulders shaking in silent laughter.

"Sydney Vaughn," his voice was stern and commanding, as if he had once again become her handler from the early days when they had just met. "I threaten to withhold myself and my body if…"

"No!" she yelped, leaning forward and pushing him back onto the bed with the weight of her body. She kissed his nose, his forehead, and his eyes, before brushing her lips quickly against his own and pulling away. "You wouldn't…"

He pulled her back to him, silencing her with a hungry, passionate kiss. They had been together more times than he could count (not that he hadn't tried) and he still couldn't get enough of her.

"You couldn't," she corrected as she pulled back.

"True," he said, pulling both of them upright and shrugging, making a show of pushing her away and refusing to look at her. "Give me a minute to think of another threat."

Her laughter tinkled in the air once again. "Oh, Michael. It's not that embarrassing, really."

He shot her a look. If he knew his mother, this story was sure to be just the opposite of that. Sydney already knew countless stories of his childhood, and his mother was nowhere near out of ammunition.

"Well," she began, "She only said that if we went to the beach to be sure that I watched you every second, and that you kept…"

"Oh no!" he interrupted, smacking his forehead and groaning. "My swimming trunks on."

"That's right. Have you heard this story before?" she teased.

"Syd," he said, shaking his head, "I lived it."

"Well, not that I would mind having to rub aloe there, but…" she trailed off, grinning.

"Syd, I was three years old. It was hot. The beach was practically empty. We were watching the clouds and I fell asleep…"

"I understand, baby," she soothed, leaning her head on his shoulder and rubbing his back. "Poor little guy."

He wasn't sure if she was talking about his three-year-old self or his…

She glanced up at him, eyes twinkling, smiling wickedly. Damn, she was hot. "Do you want me to kiss him better?"

And there was his answer.

She didn't wait for a response before she brushed her lips against his throat, pushing his already-unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders, and blazing a burning path down his chest and abdomen. She stopped just above his belly button, and he pulled her head up to hers, capturing her lips with his own.

"I think," he whispered, kissing the corner of her mouth and trailing his lips down her jaw. "We should get rid… of the kids… more often."

"Mmm…" she agreed, his lips tickling her throat. "Michael…" she murmured, bending her neck to allow him better access.

"Hmm?" he asked, kissing every possible inch of her skin that he could reach.

"I… Oh, God…" he noticed the change in her tone immediately, quickly stopping what he was doing and sitting up in time to catch her as she swayed before him. She put a hand to her forehead and blinked, dazed.

"Syd, baby?" He cupped her cheeks with both hands, turning her face up to him. She held onto his shoulders as if trying to keep her balance. "What's the matter? Another headache?"

She gazed up at him for just a moment before closing her eyes. "I'm just… It's… The room's spinning," she whispered.

"It'll be okay," he murmured, kissing her forehead.

"You've made me dizzy before, Michael," she said softly, smiling weakly at him. "But this is… this is something else…" she trailed off, wobbling as the room went out of focus and began to fade slowly to black. Her eyes widened, as if attempting to let more light in to counteract the darkness.

"Syd?"

His voice, soft but worried, brought her back before the blackness consumed the whole room, before she fainted in his arms. He lifted her, tenderly laying her back on the bed. "I'll get your medicine."

"It's not a headache," she said, grabbing his arm, eyes still closed. "Not really. I'm just dizzy and nauseous and…" She brought a hand to her head again. "Damn," she whispered. "Yeah, could you get it for me?" It couldn't hurt… right?

He nodded, rummaging through her purse, finding the bottle, and bringing her a pill and a glass of water. She took it from him. "I'm sorry."

"Hey," he murmured, running his fingers through her hair. "Don't say you're sorry. You must've caught what the kids had."

She smiled faintly and nodded, hoping he was right. "Damn flu."