YAY… chapter 14! With a bit of serious conversation between our two favorite Spies-of-Love. Please let me know what you think! Hmmm... probably more plot will show up in the next couple updates—if I feel like it. But don't worry. The fluffiness will return soon. I enjoy it too much to avoid it for too long!
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Chapter 14
I awoke several hours later, feeling more refreshed than I had in months. I couldn't even remember the last time I had slept for more than ten hours. And it felt great.
I sighed contentedly, rolling over to face Vaughn, and I was startled when I saw that he was gone. I fought momentary panic, before the sounds of movement in the kitchen registered in my mind.
Rolling out of bed, I headed down the hallway to the kitchen, the smell of eggs, bacon, and orange juice greeting me. I was relieved that the CIA had at least given us some decent food. I had spent nights at safehouses with nothing in the pantry but crackers and tepid water.
Vaughn was working busily at the stove, and hadn't realized yet that I was awake. I watched him work in silence, considering his movements. He really wasn't a bad cook. I had still harbored some doubts, even after he had brought me dinner at the warehouse. Most men I knew wouldn't touch a stove with a ten foot pole. But Vaughn—he moved around the kitchen as if he was born there.
I smiled as I watched him work. He was wearing a worn out blue apron, probably something he had found buried in one of the kitchen drawers. The words 'kiss the cook' were plastered across the front in bold, white letters.
"Why not?" I whispered to myself, approaching him silently from behind. I wrapped my arms around his waist, feeling him tense momentarily, then relax in my embrace. I tugged his shoulder, turning him around to face me.
Before he had a chance to say anything, my lips met his, and I felt him growl deep in his chest. It was an amazing feeling, being able to kiss him. I had kissed him hundreds of times in my dreams, but real life was immeasurably better. I pulled away after several long moments, breathless.
Vaughn continued to watch me, and I could have sworn his eyes were a couple shades darker—about the color of emeralds. Beautiful.
He licked his lips, clearing his throat softly before speaking. "Good morning to you, too," he said, his voice rough. "What was that for?"
I chuckled, gesturing to his apron. "Just doing as I'm told."
He glanced down at his chest, dumbfounded. "I should wear this more often." I nodded my agreement, feeling slightly weak as a lopsided grin appeared on his face.
"So," I said, my eyes drifting reluctantly away from his face, over his shoulder, and to the frying pan sizzling on the stove. "What's for breakfast?"
Vaughn chuckled and draped his arm over my shoulders.
"Eggs, toast, bacon and orange juice. Hungry?"
"Starving," I replied.
"Good. I made lots." He removed his arm, and I felt the loss immediately. He quickly dished up two plates, and gestured to the kitchen table. "Have a seat."
I did, and he moved to sit down beside me. We ate in comfortable silence for several minutes. After awhile, I glanced up at him, a questioning look on my face.
"Vaughn? Can I ask you something serious?" He looked up from his food.
"Of course." He watched me, curious.
"Why can't you sleep when I'm away on missions?" I asked.
He frowned, obviously not expecting the question. "You know why, Syd."
I shook my head at his answer. "No. I know that you worry about me getting hurt. But there's more to it than that."
He frowned, and I reached across the table to grab his hand in mine.
"You can tell me, Vaughn. I want to know. You've given me so much strength, and I want to give some of it back to you if I can."
He looked at me for a moment, then nodded, still frowning. "I don't just worry about you getting hurt," he admitted. "I worry about losing you. My father… I know now that he went on missions like yours. I remember waiting up that night, when he said he would be home. I waited, but he never came."
Vaughn stared down at his hands. I watched him, realizing for the first time how much the loss of his father still bothered him.
"You're the only good thing in my life right now, Syd." He looked back up at me, and I was taken aback by the raw pain I saw in his eyes. "And if you—if anything happened to you—" he hesitated. "I don't know what I'd do. I don't think I could handle losing another person I love."
He paused again before continuing. "I never wanted to say anything to you… you've lost so much more than I have—your mother, your fiancée. I didn't want to remind you of that pain. I didn't want to add my problems to yours."
I hesitated, not quite sure how to respond to his confession. Finally, I just shook my head, squeezing his hand tightly in mine.
"Vaughn…" I sighed. What could I say to something like that? "We're both grieving. But it's easier—on both of us—when there's someone around to talk to. I feel like I can talk to you, and I want you to feel the same way about me."
He nodded, squeezing my hand tightly. "I do." He replied. "Just never leave me, okay?" He asked, his eyes meeting mine, pleading with me. My heart contracted at his words.
"Never," I replied, my voice firm. And I wouldn't. No matter what happened. I'd always come home. I'd always be there for him, just like he had always been there for me.
We sat in silence, our food forgotten, and our eyes communicating the emotions that we couldn't put into words.
Eventually, Vaughn shifted in his seat, smiling sheepishly. "I have a serious question for you, too." He said.
"Okay," I said, smiling nervously.
"Why do you always call me Vaughn?"
I choked back a laugh. "That's it?" I asked, smiling in disbelief. "That's your serious question?"
"I've always wondered," he said, nodding. I continued to grin, until I realized that he really was serious.
"Okay," I said, still smiling slightly. "For some reason, it's always seemed more personal to me. Agent Vaughn is so formal, and I've never really known you as Michael. It just… makes me feel closer to you, if that makes any sense."
Vaughn nodded. "It makes perfect sense." He chuckled. "Good answer."
"Thanks," I replied. I squeezed his hand once more before releasing it and rising from my chair. I stretched, yawning loudly.
Vaughn watched me, amused. "You're looking rested."
"I am," I replied. "I slept longer last night than I have in months."
"I can tell," Vaughn said. "You look a lot better—" he caught himself, and smiled up at me sheepishly. "Not that you didn't look great before…" he trailed off as I shot him a glance.
"Good save, Vaughn," I said dryly.
"Oh, come on, Syd," he said. "You know you're always gorgeous to me."
My heart melted at his simple statement, and, try as I might, I couldn't come up with a suitable comeback. I settled for blushing instead.
"Thanks," I replied softly. Vaughn rose from his chair, pulling me up with him. He planted a soft kiss on my lips.
"Any time." He pulled away slightly. "I'll finish up the dirty dishes, if you want dibs on the shower," he said, his voice low. He was hovering close to me, his lips only centimeters away from mine.
I smiled inwardly. Only Vaughn could talk about dirty dishes and make it sound sexy.
I nodded, distracted by his closeness.
He smiled, and turned back towards the sink. I watched him for several seconds longer, already missing his closeness, before heading to the shower.
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Well, hope you liked it… it was a bit slow, I think, but things will pick up soon! Let me know what you think!!
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Chapter 14
I awoke several hours later, feeling more refreshed than I had in months. I couldn't even remember the last time I had slept for more than ten hours. And it felt great.
I sighed contentedly, rolling over to face Vaughn, and I was startled when I saw that he was gone. I fought momentary panic, before the sounds of movement in the kitchen registered in my mind.
Rolling out of bed, I headed down the hallway to the kitchen, the smell of eggs, bacon, and orange juice greeting me. I was relieved that the CIA had at least given us some decent food. I had spent nights at safehouses with nothing in the pantry but crackers and tepid water.
Vaughn was working busily at the stove, and hadn't realized yet that I was awake. I watched him work in silence, considering his movements. He really wasn't a bad cook. I had still harbored some doubts, even after he had brought me dinner at the warehouse. Most men I knew wouldn't touch a stove with a ten foot pole. But Vaughn—he moved around the kitchen as if he was born there.
I smiled as I watched him work. He was wearing a worn out blue apron, probably something he had found buried in one of the kitchen drawers. The words 'kiss the cook' were plastered across the front in bold, white letters.
"Why not?" I whispered to myself, approaching him silently from behind. I wrapped my arms around his waist, feeling him tense momentarily, then relax in my embrace. I tugged his shoulder, turning him around to face me.
Before he had a chance to say anything, my lips met his, and I felt him growl deep in his chest. It was an amazing feeling, being able to kiss him. I had kissed him hundreds of times in my dreams, but real life was immeasurably better. I pulled away after several long moments, breathless.
Vaughn continued to watch me, and I could have sworn his eyes were a couple shades darker—about the color of emeralds. Beautiful.
He licked his lips, clearing his throat softly before speaking. "Good morning to you, too," he said, his voice rough. "What was that for?"
I chuckled, gesturing to his apron. "Just doing as I'm told."
He glanced down at his chest, dumbfounded. "I should wear this more often." I nodded my agreement, feeling slightly weak as a lopsided grin appeared on his face.
"So," I said, my eyes drifting reluctantly away from his face, over his shoulder, and to the frying pan sizzling on the stove. "What's for breakfast?"
Vaughn chuckled and draped his arm over my shoulders.
"Eggs, toast, bacon and orange juice. Hungry?"
"Starving," I replied.
"Good. I made lots." He removed his arm, and I felt the loss immediately. He quickly dished up two plates, and gestured to the kitchen table. "Have a seat."
I did, and he moved to sit down beside me. We ate in comfortable silence for several minutes. After awhile, I glanced up at him, a questioning look on my face.
"Vaughn? Can I ask you something serious?" He looked up from his food.
"Of course." He watched me, curious.
"Why can't you sleep when I'm away on missions?" I asked.
He frowned, obviously not expecting the question. "You know why, Syd."
I shook my head at his answer. "No. I know that you worry about me getting hurt. But there's more to it than that."
He frowned, and I reached across the table to grab his hand in mine.
"You can tell me, Vaughn. I want to know. You've given me so much strength, and I want to give some of it back to you if I can."
He looked at me for a moment, then nodded, still frowning. "I don't just worry about you getting hurt," he admitted. "I worry about losing you. My father… I know now that he went on missions like yours. I remember waiting up that night, when he said he would be home. I waited, but he never came."
Vaughn stared down at his hands. I watched him, realizing for the first time how much the loss of his father still bothered him.
"You're the only good thing in my life right now, Syd." He looked back up at me, and I was taken aback by the raw pain I saw in his eyes. "And if you—if anything happened to you—" he hesitated. "I don't know what I'd do. I don't think I could handle losing another person I love."
He paused again before continuing. "I never wanted to say anything to you… you've lost so much more than I have—your mother, your fiancée. I didn't want to remind you of that pain. I didn't want to add my problems to yours."
I hesitated, not quite sure how to respond to his confession. Finally, I just shook my head, squeezing his hand tightly in mine.
"Vaughn…" I sighed. What could I say to something like that? "We're both grieving. But it's easier—on both of us—when there's someone around to talk to. I feel like I can talk to you, and I want you to feel the same way about me."
He nodded, squeezing my hand tightly. "I do." He replied. "Just never leave me, okay?" He asked, his eyes meeting mine, pleading with me. My heart contracted at his words.
"Never," I replied, my voice firm. And I wouldn't. No matter what happened. I'd always come home. I'd always be there for him, just like he had always been there for me.
We sat in silence, our food forgotten, and our eyes communicating the emotions that we couldn't put into words.
Eventually, Vaughn shifted in his seat, smiling sheepishly. "I have a serious question for you, too." He said.
"Okay," I said, smiling nervously.
"Why do you always call me Vaughn?"
I choked back a laugh. "That's it?" I asked, smiling in disbelief. "That's your serious question?"
"I've always wondered," he said, nodding. I continued to grin, until I realized that he really was serious.
"Okay," I said, still smiling slightly. "For some reason, it's always seemed more personal to me. Agent Vaughn is so formal, and I've never really known you as Michael. It just… makes me feel closer to you, if that makes any sense."
Vaughn nodded. "It makes perfect sense." He chuckled. "Good answer."
"Thanks," I replied. I squeezed his hand once more before releasing it and rising from my chair. I stretched, yawning loudly.
Vaughn watched me, amused. "You're looking rested."
"I am," I replied. "I slept longer last night than I have in months."
"I can tell," Vaughn said. "You look a lot better—" he caught himself, and smiled up at me sheepishly. "Not that you didn't look great before…" he trailed off as I shot him a glance.
"Good save, Vaughn," I said dryly.
"Oh, come on, Syd," he said. "You know you're always gorgeous to me."
My heart melted at his simple statement, and, try as I might, I couldn't come up with a suitable comeback. I settled for blushing instead.
"Thanks," I replied softly. Vaughn rose from his chair, pulling me up with him. He planted a soft kiss on my lips.
"Any time." He pulled away slightly. "I'll finish up the dirty dishes, if you want dibs on the shower," he said, his voice low. He was hovering close to me, his lips only centimeters away from mine.
I smiled inwardly. Only Vaughn could talk about dirty dishes and make it sound sexy.
I nodded, distracted by his closeness.
He smiled, and turned back towards the sink. I watched him for several seconds longer, already missing his closeness, before heading to the shower.
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Well, hope you liked it… it was a bit slow, I think, but things will pick up soon! Let me know what you think!!