A/N: I'm not quite sure what this is, but I do know that it is the product of the first inspiration I have received since the early Common Ground days.... So please, tell me what you think. Tell me what you [i]see[/i]
*
A soft knock roused him from his daze in front of the television. Rising and stretching out his cramped muscles, Vaughn searched his brain for any clue as to who might be knocking at such a late hour.
Unable to find an answer, he shuffled to the door, not even bothering to put on a shirt. Whoever needed to disturb him in the dark of night unannounced deserved to see him in his boxers.
Vaughn made quick work of the lock and swung open the door to find a dark figure sopping wet. It was a woman, shivering and shaking and drenched to the core, no doubt.
Sydney.
The moment he figured out her identity, Sydney was in his arms. He pulled her snugly to his chest and nearly carried her inside. The door closed with a thud behind him, the rain shut out from his little world.
In the light of the living room, Vaughn could see that Sydney was crying. Her face was blotchy and her eyes puffy.
Vaughn set her down on the couch, rushing to the hallway closet for blankets and towels. When he returned, he found her curled up in a tightly constructed ball, still shivering somewhat violently.
[i]What happened to you, Sydney?[/i]
"Syd?" He came to her and kneeled at the side of the couch, blankets in hand. "Syd, tell me what's wrong. Please, baby, tell me."
It never occurred to him that he was breaking the rules. He never contemplated his use of endearing terms. Nothing mattered, except for her.
When she didn't answer, but rather attempted to muffle her sobs and hide her face in her arms, Vaughn pulled a towel from under his arm and wrapped it around her back. She lifted her head at this, meeting his eyes somewhat unsteadily.
"Sydney. Please. What's wrong? Are you hurt?" There was so much remorse in his voice, she almost winced.
"Please." She struggled with her words. "Just hold me." And sobs overcame her.
She didn't need to tell him twice. In seconds, he was seated at her side, wrapping numerous blankets around her, followed by his own strong arms. She let him hold her, placing her head on his chest and breathing in his warmth.
"I don't know what to do." He whispered into her hair. "How do I help you, Sydney?"
"Just don't let me go. Let me stay, and never let go."
*
A soft knock roused him from his daze in front of the television. Rising and stretching out his cramped muscles, Vaughn searched his brain for any clue as to who might be knocking at such a late hour.
Unable to find an answer, he shuffled to the door, not even bothering to put on a shirt. Whoever needed to disturb him in the dark of night unannounced deserved to see him in his boxers.
Vaughn made quick work of the lock and swung open the door to find a dark figure sopping wet. It was a woman, shivering and shaking and drenched to the core, no doubt.
Sydney.
The moment he figured out her identity, Sydney was in his arms. He pulled her snugly to his chest and nearly carried her inside. The door closed with a thud behind him, the rain shut out from his little world.
In the light of the living room, Vaughn could see that Sydney was crying. Her face was blotchy and her eyes puffy.
Vaughn set her down on the couch, rushing to the hallway closet for blankets and towels. When he returned, he found her curled up in a tightly constructed ball, still shivering somewhat violently.
[i]What happened to you, Sydney?[/i]
"Syd?" He came to her and kneeled at the side of the couch, blankets in hand. "Syd, tell me what's wrong. Please, baby, tell me."
It never occurred to him that he was breaking the rules. He never contemplated his use of endearing terms. Nothing mattered, except for her.
When she didn't answer, but rather attempted to muffle her sobs and hide her face in her arms, Vaughn pulled a towel from under his arm and wrapped it around her back. She lifted her head at this, meeting his eyes somewhat unsteadily.
"Sydney. Please. What's wrong? Are you hurt?" There was so much remorse in his voice, she almost winced.
"Please." She struggled with her words. "Just hold me." And sobs overcame her.
She didn't need to tell him twice. In seconds, he was seated at her side, wrapping numerous blankets around her, followed by his own strong arms. She let him hold her, placing her head on his chest and breathing in his warmth.
"I don't know what to do." He whispered into her hair. "How do I help you, Sydney?"
"Just don't let me go. Let me stay, and never let go."