Chapter 3. YAY! Feel free to let me know if this story is totally lame. I have no idea where I'm going plot-wise... just so you're prepared for a bunch of fluffiness, with no plot at all. Anyways. As always, read and review. This is probably the last chapter for today. Also, you can email me at adele1013@email.com if you have longer comments (which would be lovely).
Chapter 3
"So," I said, after we had finished our meals in comfortable silence. "Why did you come here, Vaughn?"
He paused, finished chewing a fortune cookie, then looked up at me. "I was worried about you. You seemed preoccupied at work. I thought something was wrong."
"Vaughn," I said, pausing to take a sip of water. "I'm always preoccupied. Always."
He chuckled. "It just seemed different today. Different than when you're worried about work, or when you're thinking about your mom. I don't know how to explain it really." He shook his head, embarrassed. "It was stupid."
"Well," I said, trying not to smile. "The fact that you came to my house was stupid. The fact that you cared enough to come to my house is actually—sweet."
He blushed, and I laughed.
"So," I continued, changing the subject, since I had obviously embarrassed him. "What are your plans for the rest of the evening?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. There's a hockey game on at eight. Other than that, nothing."
"Vaughn. It's Friday night. You don't have any plans?"
"Hey," he said defensively. "It's been a long week. The meeting I had with Devlin today was enough to bring any normal man to his knees."
"True," I said, grinning.
"Does this mean that you do have plans tonight?" Vaughn asked, grinning. I paused.
"Well… not exactly…" I muttered.
"See?" Vaughn said, triumphantly. "You're just as pathetic as I am."
I scowled at him. We sat for several moments, fingering the leftover fortune cookies on our plates.
"You know," I said. "It's no fun watching a hockey game by yourself."
He nodded. "That's true."
"And I do have an extra spot on my couch," I continued, smiling.
"Another good point." Vaughn replied, his face serious. "What are you suggesting?"
"Well, you're already here…" I paused. "You could stay awhile longer, and watch the game here if you want. I mean—to make it worth your trip over here." I felt the blush creeping up my neck and face, and cursed myself for being so easily embarrassed.
"That's very efficient of you, Agent Bristow," Vaughn replied, chuckling. "And I think I'll take you up on that, if you don't mind. Better than sitting at home on the couch with a chubby bulldog."
I didn't know whether to be offended or touched by his last comment.
"How much better?" I asked, looking at him skeptically.
"Way, way better," he said.
"Good answer." I grabbed a pillow, chucking it at him, and grabbed one for myself. "What channel?"
Chapter 3
"So," I said, after we had finished our meals in comfortable silence. "Why did you come here, Vaughn?"
He paused, finished chewing a fortune cookie, then looked up at me. "I was worried about you. You seemed preoccupied at work. I thought something was wrong."
"Vaughn," I said, pausing to take a sip of water. "I'm always preoccupied. Always."
He chuckled. "It just seemed different today. Different than when you're worried about work, or when you're thinking about your mom. I don't know how to explain it really." He shook his head, embarrassed. "It was stupid."
"Well," I said, trying not to smile. "The fact that you came to my house was stupid. The fact that you cared enough to come to my house is actually—sweet."
He blushed, and I laughed.
"So," I continued, changing the subject, since I had obviously embarrassed him. "What are your plans for the rest of the evening?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. There's a hockey game on at eight. Other than that, nothing."
"Vaughn. It's Friday night. You don't have any plans?"
"Hey," he said defensively. "It's been a long week. The meeting I had with Devlin today was enough to bring any normal man to his knees."
"True," I said, grinning.
"Does this mean that you do have plans tonight?" Vaughn asked, grinning. I paused.
"Well… not exactly…" I muttered.
"See?" Vaughn said, triumphantly. "You're just as pathetic as I am."
I scowled at him. We sat for several moments, fingering the leftover fortune cookies on our plates.
"You know," I said. "It's no fun watching a hockey game by yourself."
He nodded. "That's true."
"And I do have an extra spot on my couch," I continued, smiling.
"Another good point." Vaughn replied, his face serious. "What are you suggesting?"
"Well, you're already here…" I paused. "You could stay awhile longer, and watch the game here if you want. I mean—to make it worth your trip over here." I felt the blush creeping up my neck and face, and cursed myself for being so easily embarrassed.
"That's very efficient of you, Agent Bristow," Vaughn replied, chuckling. "And I think I'll take you up on that, if you don't mind. Better than sitting at home on the couch with a chubby bulldog."
I didn't know whether to be offended or touched by his last comment.
"How much better?" I asked, looking at him skeptically.
"Way, way better," he said.
"Good answer." I grabbed a pillow, chucking it at him, and grabbed one for myself. "What channel?"