Chapter 5: Slip-ups and Changes
Running so fast that she almost slid right past the door, adrenaline pumping as if she had been on a mission. She hadn't been able to wake up thirty seconds ago, but now she was wide-eyed and ready for any sort of danger that might present itself.
Light pooled out of the doorway, warm and welcoming, but a beacon, a warning, spreading and fading as it glimmered down the hall. The dazzling puddle of light just outside the door blocked partially by Vaughn's shadow, his mussed hair showing perfectly in the black outline before her.
The contrast between the dimness of the hall and the brilliance of the room was intense and vivid, striking her skull instantly, nearly to the point of pain. It took her a few moments to adjust to the virtually blinding brightness after the calm and quiet of the dark, early morning hours. But her other senses were working just fine.
"What…?"
She inched closer, hoping her eyes were playing tricks on her, that this would be some kind of nightmare. But although the illustrated scenes in her dreams were often so vivid as to drive her to tears and at times she could feel actual pain, she could never remember smell being a factor in any of them. And when she had already taken three tentative steps, she had to admit, that, for once, her eyes were not playing tricks on her, that what she saw was real.
Vaughn remained by the doorway, arms folded across his bare chest, sleep lurking within his eyes but frightened off for the moment by shock and disbelief. "It's everywhere."
Ilya was sitting in the far corner of the crib, only his wide eyes betraying the fear he felt at such scrutiny, his cheeks the deep shade of red that Vaughn had contemplated on the plane. The child's soiled diaper and pajama bottoms lay on the other side of the crib, a path of smeared filth separating them from the little boy.
Sydney was close to panic. So close that her toes were already over the precipice, wiggling in the air; the wind was tugging at her, imploring her to join in its game, soar with it over the edge and into oblivion. Deep breaths would have quelled the anxiety within her, calming the gusts that threatened to pull her over. But they also would have increased the sloshing and churning in her stomach, nauseating her far beyond her control.
She was caught on the brink, unable to jump over or step back, frozen so long as everything froze around her, if nothing pushed her forward, arms flailing as she fought unsuccessfully to regain her balance…
Vaughn unfortunately picked this moment to tiptoe up behind her, braver now that she was in the room, craning his neck to see without getting too close. "Is it supposed to look like that?"
And that was all the push she needed.
Her head whipped around with a flurry of emotion, shooting like darts out of her flashing eyes. Anger, shock, guilt, sadness, fear… surging out before him in her accidental, sleep-deprived wrath, aiming in his direction only because he was the first thing to make noise, to move, to make her trip and fall over, plummeting towards whatever lay below.
"How the hell would I know?! I've never even babysat, for God's sake! I don't know how to…"
"I'm sorry?" Vaughn tried, his voice almost too soft to interrupt the unintentional biting force of her words. He ran a gentle hand down her arm, knowing that the emotions vomited forth had not been aimed at him, but had merely fallen in his direction. Not afraid to get closer to her, to comfort her, knowing full well that she could very easily kill him if she wanted to, but also that she would never want to, never would.
He caught her before she reached the bottom, before she could completely explode in a fury of fiery sparks. He carried her back up to the top, sitting her well away from the edge of the cliff and began work on a fence so that she could not fall again.
Sydney sighed, noticing that the deep breath hadn't killed her and she was somehow becoming accustomed to the stench. His fingertips on her forearm had the intended effect, capturing the emotion that had sprung throughout the room and reining it in, giving it back to its owner for use at another, more appropriate time.
"No. I'm sorry."
Vaughn planted a kiss on her shoulder, the bare skin that her tank top revealed memorized long ago, his lips missing the strap by instinct. "It's okay, baby. It won't be for too long. We can do it."
That was all she needed to multiply her strength, to be able to help him build that fence on the edge that she had fallen off only seconds before. And very much like the Grinch, she was able to put herself back together, suddenly capable of handling the emotional chaos of ten Sydneys, plus two.
Because Vaughn made her feel like everything was going to be okay when he was by her side, that the two of them could accomplish anything together. He had made her whole again countless times before, knowing the pieces to the jigsaw puzzle that was both Sydney and her life by heart and more capable of piecing her back together than anyone or anything else.
"Thank you…" she murmured, falling back into him for a moment, reveling in his strength and stability and borrowing from it, sharing it with him before moving forward to pick up Ilya. "Hey, little man. Are you okay?"
Vaughn wrinkled his nose in distaste as she wrapped the little boy in the not-so-soiled blanket and cradled him in her arms, wondering where she had found the ability to do something so simple, something he didn't think he would have the strength for.
Sydney rested her cheek against Ilya's forehead and frowned, picking her head up and brushing a gentle hand against the child's skin. "Does he feel warm to you?"
Slowly, Vaughn reached out an almost shaking hand and pressed it lightly against Ilya's forehead, holding it there for as little time as he thought he could get away with before quickly pulling away.
"Kinda."
Sydney cradled Ilya closer against her, rocking him back and forth. "I'm going to get him in the tub. Can you find that ear thermometer we bought today?"
"Sure."
Sydney made her way out of the room, leaving Vaughn to search through the still-unpacked bags littering the floor. Grabbing a towel, she filled the tub with a few inches of warm water and proceeded to wash Ilya, talking softly to him the entire time. She had him out of the tub and nearly dried off before Vaughn came in with the thermometer.
"It took me awhile to find it," he said simply, handing it to her.
Sydney smiled at him, sitting on the toilet and plunking Ilya on her lap as she held the thermometer in his ear. "101.9."
Vaughn tried desperately to impress her, to think of what his mother had done when he was sick as a child. But it was nearly 4:30 in the morning, and he was still slightly dazed with all that had happened, wondering what else there was to come. He came up blank.
"What do we do?"
Sydney didn't laugh at him for not knowing, and that was one of the many things he loved about her. She knew that he had tried, and to her, that was good enough. So he hadn't come up with the answer this time. Next time he would, or the time after that. The two of them complemented each other well, and usually the other was able to step in where the other failed. At least that was how it happened this time.
"Did you see any Tylenol in any of those bag?"
"No, but we have some up here," he answered, reaching for the medicine cabinet. But he stopped mid-action, the horrified way she said his name freezing his hand in the air.
"Vaughn! You can't give that to a two-year-old!"
"Okay!" Vaughn retracted his hand as if it had been bitten, and jumped back. He didn't ask why, simply trusting that she was right. Luckily, he was a quick learner. No adult Tylenol for babies... He wouldn't make that mistake twice.
Sydney looked to little Ilya, who had snuggled into her arms, his wet hair sticking out in all directions. "If you'll stay with him for a few minutes, I'll run to…"
"I'll go," Vaughn interrupted.
She had tried to fix it not so that he would have to watch Ilya, but so that he wouldn't have to leave the house. He could have been sleeping, after all. It was her fault that Ilya had woken up, and…
"Was he crying?" Sydney asked almost out of nowhere, suddenly concerned that the child had been crying and she hadn't heard him. What kind of moth… caretaker was she if…
"No."
"Then how did you…?"
"I was… I woke up and I was thirsty so I thought I would go check and make sure he was… you know, that his blankets hadn't fallen off or anything…"
Any other man would not have even thought to check on Ilya. A father would have, but most men wouldn't bother if the child wasn't theirs, if they had been forced to watch it because their girlfriend was babysitting for the CIA.
This just went to prove that Michael Vaughn was not like most other men. Deep down she had known it before, but at that moment, she knew for certain and without any shadow of a doubt, that Vaughn was the man of her dreams, the only one she would ever be able to live for, ever…
"Syd? Are you…"
"V-Vaughn…"
She wouldn't have interrupted him if she had known he had been speaking; if she had heard any words after the breathy way he had said her name. Sydney had catapulted herself into dreamland again, just as she had earlier that day and just as she had more than likely done the day before, and the day before that…
She shook her head slightly, smiling softly at him. It was late… or early. She could write it off as that. Or she could…
"…Thanks."
He knew she meant for everything, without her having to say it. He knew that she wanted to tell him that he didn't have to do this, any of it; that she was grateful that he was. He even knew, by the way she tried to hide how she had stuttered over his name, that she had almost called him "Michael," but the strangeness of the word had lodged it into her throat.
Vaughn leaned over, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head. And Sydney correctly understood that gesture as his "You're welcome," his way of telling her that he'd do anything she asked him and even those things she didn't; that he thought of this as his responsibility too, because like the bed, the apartment, and even their dreams, this was something that was theirs, theirs together.
Without a word, he plodded down the hall to their room, throwing a pair of jeans on over his boxers, pulling on a t-shirt that he picked up off the floor, and finding his shoes somewhere under the bed. Sydney carried Ilya into the kitchen and got him a bottle of water, knowing that he needed liquids to help his fever go down. Vaughn gave her a quick kiss on his way out the door, letting that one kiss serve as both an I love you and a goodbye, saying more than either of those phrases could.
Sydney took Ilya to the office to change him into another pair of pajamas, preparing herself ahead of time for the smell and intent on changing the child as quickly as possible so she could clean up the mess.
But the scent of disinfectant greeted her, flaring out her nostrils with its pungent odor. The crib was clean, if a little damp, and she could hear the hum of the washing machine down the hall. These sights, smells, and sounds, as simple and everyday as they were, were almost enough to make her swoon.
"Look what Vaughn did for us," she murmured to Ilya, putting him down as she rustled through the bags, looking for another pair of pajamas. Sydney took the towel from the little boy and spread it out on the floor, laying him on it and putting on his diaper.
"Isn't he…" she continued, breaking off as a familiar warmth fell over her and glancing up at the figure that appeared in the doorway, wondering for just a second why she hadn't heard the door open. "Hi."
"Hi."
Vaughn didn't say another word, watching her as she continued changing Ilya into his pajamas, the soft rustle of cloth and the whirring of the washer the only sounds penetrating their eardrums. The silence calm and light, like a lullaby, soothing and sweet.
Sydney stood up, scooping the tired little boy into her arms and walking to the door. Vaughn ran his finger down the bridge of Ilya's nose, smiling when the child didn't shy away from him. Sydney loved this simple exchange, letting herself pretend for just a moment that the child in her arms belonged to her and Vaughn, their baby boy…
But it wasn't, it wasn't. And oh, she was doing it again. She seriously had to stop delving into her fantasies, ready to fulfill dreams that couldn't turn into reality just yet, that took time, more than she was able to give. It had only been three months since they had even…
The scent of bleach, for a moment so strong that it was starting to give her a headache, interrupted her thoughts, reminding her of all he had done for her. "Thanks," Sydney murmured, breaking the silence and gesturing to the room around them, "For this."
Vaughn shrugged, giving her a shy, lopsided grin and bringing a hand to the back of his neck. "I didn't want you to have to worry about it."
"I…It…" Sydney stammered, shifting Ilya to her hip so she could move closer to Vaughn. He was the only one who could render her speechless.
She leaned into him, closing her eyes and knowing that he would dip his head down to meet her waiting lips, loving that she was right and that even such a small, relatively chaste (at least for them) kiss, could ignite such a fire between them, conveying all the feelings that they weren't able to put into words.
"And," she began, nearly breathless, the word coming out as a sigh as she pulled away. "We need Infants' Tylenol."
"Thanks," Vaughn answered, again giving her that shy smile she loved so much, this time letting that action serve in place of a verbal goodbye, and disappearing down the hall, his footsteps cut off by the shutting of the door. And this time he was gone for more than two minutes, owing mainly to the fact that when he got down to his car, he knew what he needed to get at the store.
Vaughn didn't return for half an hour, finding Sydney nearly asleep on the living room couch with Ilya in her arms, both half-covered with an afghan and watching old TV reruns on Nick at Nite, the black and white pictures flashing a warm glow over the scene.
Sydney didn't ask what had taken him so long. She didn't point out that he had only had to go a few blocks to the 24-hour mart and pick up one item. She didn't tell him that he could and should have been home twenty minutes ago.
She merely smiled and clicked off the television, a tiny lamp across the room now radiating the only source of light. "Thank you."
But he offered her an explanation anyway, knowing she didn't need one, wasn't asking for it, but feeling that she deserved one, that he should justify himself any way he could.
"I didn't know what kind to get," he stated, sitting next to her on the couch and pulling two bottles out of a small paper bag.
Sydney was relieved to see that they were in fact both Infants' Tylenol, but one was red and the other purple. Such a small, sweet gesture. So truly and completely… Vaughn.
Vaughn held one bottle in either hand, moving them up and down as if he were balancing them on an imaginary scale. "I didn't know whether he'd want cherry or grape, so…" He shrugged, letting that finish his statement.
"Why don't you pick tonight," Sydney said, gently shaking Ilya awake. "I think he's too tired."
The little boy blinked his eyes open, letting them adjust to the small amount of light. He yawned and stretched in Sydney's arms before shivering and snuggling closer to her and further under the blanket.
Vaughn carefully considered both bottles of medicine before setting down the red one and reading the back of the purple. He sucked some medicine up into the dropper, checking the amount and squeezing a little back out; he looked again, satisfied this time that it wasn't over the line, and glancing into her waiting eyes.
"I used to hate the cherry flavor when I was a kid."
"Me too." A quiet smile was swallowed by the darkness, lighting her face for a moment with the thought of something else they shared.
Vaughn handed the dropper to her, moving to make sure he was well out of range of any spitting that might occur. He had heard horror stories of babies who were able to spit out gallons more medication than they had been given, soaking anything that happened to be in their way with the sticky goo.
But Ilya took the medicine without a fight, swallowing all that Sydney offered him out of the dropper. Maybe those stories hadn't been true after all…
"Maybe the grape is better," Sydney reasoned.
Or maybe the child had been so traumatized that he wouldn't put up a fight no matter what the taste had been. They both thought it at nearly the exact same time, but neither voiced it. There was no need to put it into words when neither was willing to admit what they both already knew.
"You know," Vaughn murmured, deciding that a change of subject was in order, "when I was at the counter in the store, the guy took one look at me and said, 'Wife sent ya out, didn't she?'"
"What did you say?" Sydney asked, grinning both at Vaughn's impression of the gruff clerk and as she remembered their earlier experience in the baby store. She felt like they were playing house, that their mission was to fool everyone into thinking they were a family…
"Nothing. I didn't get a chance. He continued mumbling something about wives that included a few choice words and was a little obscene. I stopped him there and told him that my wife…"
He had said it again. For the second time in the past twelve hours. The word and implication flowing easily off his tongue, without effort or even a hint of laughter…
"… was the most beautiful…"
But it had to be a joke. He had to be kidding. It was something they would keep to themselves, something private they would think of a few months or years from now and share in their laughter. Do you remember the time when…
"… amazing…"
He had told her that before. It seemed like so long ago, but she still remembered, just like she remembered every compliment he had given her, even unintentionally, every word he had spoken to her that wasn't about the CIA or a mission…
"… woman in the world."
And as his sentence ended, she realized that he would be waiting for an answer, that it would be her turn to speak. Sydney decided that it had to, it must be, it couldn't be anything other than a joke, than part of their assignment, their mission…
She laughed softly, fueling the sparkle in his eyes that flashed brightly for a moment before nearly being extinguished by her words, despite their almost playful tone.
"You'll have to let me meet her sometime."
"Syd, I…"
Suddenly she realized that what he had told the clerk had slipped as effortlessly and naturally off his lips as she had first thought, that by trying reason, to turn his words into something that would make sense to everyone, she had misread him, misinterpreted their meaning. And just as quickly, she wished that she had followed her instinct and simply thanked him, wished that she wasn't completely terrified of commitment, hadn't tried to turn it into a joke.
"I'm sorry, Vaughn. I thought you… I…"
"Shh…" He brought his hand up to caress her cheek, comforting her when it should have been the other way around. But she knew that he understood, could piece together her babbling into something that made even more sense to him than it did to herself.
Without a word, Vaughn stood, helping her get to her feet as well. It was time to go back to bed. He guided her down the hallway, stopping in front of the laundry closet and switching Ilya's blankets and pajamas from the washer to the dryer.
Letting go of her hand to concentrate on his task, he finally opened his mouth to speak. "What are we going to…?"
"He'll have to sleep with us," Sydney murmured, quite sure that Vaughn was not going to like her answer and bracing herself for his reaction.
"What?" Vaughn stopped mid-motion, a shirt, tiny and dripping, still in his hand."We can't put him back in the crib," she answered. "It's still wet."
"I know, but…"
In the course of one night, so much had changed. They had been hurled into parenthood, forced to accept all the burdens that accompanied it, whether they wanted to or not. Vaughn had cleaned up a mess that had been made by a twenty-month-old human being and not a dog (although the thought that it belonged to Donovan is what got him through it); he had gone to the store for Infants' Tylenol, and now…
"It's just a few hours."
He could see by her eyes, tell by the way her voice had become softer, that the guilt she was feeling over this arrangement was already pouring over her. In a few seconds, he could see that she would volunteer to sleep on the couch, to leave him alone in the bed. And he also knew that he wouldn't let that happen, that he wouldn't be able to sleep without her
So he quickly acquiesced, not wanting her to feel any worse than she already did, understanding that it was too early in the morning for any of them to be awake. "Okay."
Sydney's relieved gaze thanked him. Ilya had fallen asleep again, his head dropping against her shoulder. She carried the little boy into the room she shared with Vaughn, laying him near the center of the bed. Vaughn watched as she slid into bed next to the child, his pulse jumping as he noticed that she was on his side, her head on his pillow, one arm draped around the little boy, her back waiting for Vaughn himself to warm it. He gladly complied, pulling her close and kissing her shoulder before dropping back to sleep.
~~~
When Sydney awoke this time, daylight was streaming in through the windows, welcoming her with its warmth. A pair of blinking eyes greeted her, cool and unquestioning, staring into her own with almost too much power, and definitely not the ones she was used to waking up to every morning.
Vaughn was gone and Ilya sat next to her on the bed. He had been up for some time, by the looks of it, silent as always, but the appearance of sleep long gone from his face. His cheeks were a rosy pink, nowhere near the frightening shade of red they had been just hours before.
"Do you feel better?" Sydney asked in both English and Russian, pulling the boy into her arms and bringing a hand to his forehead, sighing with relief when it felt much cooler.
"What's your name?" she asked, knowing the answer, but wanting to get him to speak, repeating it in Russian as she had before and turning the child to face her. "What's your name, sweetie?"
He didn't answer, instead offering his silent brown eyes up to her, unspoken volumes pooled within them, but locked there as if in a cage, captured forever and unable to come out and make themselves known. After a few moments, Ilya looked away, surveying the bed, the room, the windows; his gaze coming to rest on the man who had appeared in the doorway.
"Morning." Vaughn's killer smile was enough to make her melt, the plate of muffins and steaming cup of coffee in his hands just an added bonus. "I made breakfast…" he began, but then thought better of it. The coffee, maybe, but he couldn't pull off these muffins as his own creation. "Well, really I went out and got breakfast. We don't have anything."
"Thanks," Sydney murmured, leaning over to kiss him as he approached the side of the bed, knowing that neither of them cared that she had yet to brush her teeth.
"And I asked the lady at the counter what he should eat," Vaughn stated as he pulled away, gesturing toward Ilya with the coffee mug before handing it to Sydney. "And she said that these were fine as long as we didn't give him too much."
Setting the plate on the nightstand, Vaughn broke off a small piece of a muffin and offered it to Ilya. The child took it, seeming unsure of what to make of this new object in his hand. Sydney took the other muffin from the plate and began to eat it. Ilya watched as she chewed and swallowed, finally taking a bite of his own breakfast and repeating her actions.
Vaughn chuckled, shaking his head in amusement and sitting on the edge of the bed. "Is he any better?"
"I guess so. I mean, he feels cooler, but he still won't talk."
"He's eating okay," Vaughn commented, noting that Ilya had finished the piece of muffin he had been given, and breaking off another piece and handing it to him.
Taking advantage of his proximity, Sydney kissed Vaughn quickly on the lips, placing the uneaten half of her muffin back on the plate and standing up. "Thanks for breakfast. Can you watch him while I take a shower?"
"For how long?" Vaughn asked warily, eyeing Ilya.
"Five, ten minutes tops. I'll be quick."
She was in the bathroom before he could answer, the door not completely shutting behind her. He heard the water turn on, could see her beginning to take off her clothes through the crack of the partially opened door, the light falling perfectly on her...
Swallowing, he turned his attention back to Ilya. The boy was regarding him quietly, seeming to size up his competition. Vaughn offered him another piece of muffin, but Ilya didn't take it, his eyes not breaking from Vaughn's for even a moment.
Unsure of what to do now, Vaughn glanced around the room, deciding that he could at least make the bed before Sydney came back and reaching over to pick up Ilya.
"Okay, buddy, well… ohh…" Vaughn crinkled his nose, daring to bring his face closer to the child, glad that at least this time, the smell was contained. "Don't move."
He stood up, keeping one eye on Ilya as he inched towards the bathroom. "Syd?" he called, opening the door a little further. He could see her figure through the flimsy shower curtain and forced his eyes to lock themselves on the ground. He had always thought this bathroom was ugly (Weiss always teased him that it was why he had gotten the apartment so cheap), and the disgusting mixture of patterns and unappealing colors on the tiled floor was enough to quench anyone's desire.
Except when Vaughn began to remember the time that he and Sydney had…
Sydney's face appeared at the far end of the bathtub, the rest of her body smartly kept covered by the curtain, out of range of his roving eyes. "What's the matter?"
"Syd, he's starting the smell."
His tone, filled with anxiety and panic, made her laugh, the curtain falling away momentarily, giving him a quick glimpse of her body, adding intense sexual frustration on top of everything else that was going on, almost bringing it to the forefront. He didn't need to tell her that if he saw any more than that, he would lose it. She quickly snatched the curtain back up, looking at him sympathetically.
"You can change him if you want…"
Ha! He could also run down the street completely naked, but he surely would not be in line for that activity any time soon. Of all the things he could think to do right now, changing a baby's diaper had to be somewhere near the bottom of the list. Hell, it was off the bottom of the list. The running naked thing was starting to sound pretty good; it was pretty warm out, after all. And the only kids he ever planned on changing were his own, when he and Syd…
"… But just hang on. I'll be out in a few minutes."
She disappeared again, the sound of the water changing as it hit against her body; the pictures running through his head almost too beautiful to ignore.
Vaughn grit his teeth, confidence and pride diluting the fear and doubt as he went into the other room, picked up Ilya, and holding him at arm's length, headed towards the office.
Sydney came out of the shower a few minutes later, surprised that Vaughn and Ilya were no longer in the room, and quickly changing into jeans and a t-shirt. Vaughn's voice led her into the office, a clean, bare-bottomed Ilya latching onto her leg the moment she stepped in the door. Vaughn stood across the room, turning a new diaper over and over in his hands as if trying to find which end was up.
Ilya held his arms out to her and Sydney gladly scooped him up, planting a kiss on his chubby little cheek without a thought. Half a box of used baby wipes littered the floor, the more soiled ones piled on a dirty diaper that lay open in the center of the room. A few fresh diapers had spilled out of the bag, trailing across the floor. And Vaughn was standing in the middle of it all, quickly hiding the diaper behind his back, his cheeks flushing.
Without a word, Sydney closed the space between them, claiming his lips for a hurried but passionate kiss, running the fingers of her free hand through the hair at the nape of his neck. She snatched the diaper from behind his back, showing him which way was up and laying it open on the ground.
She surprised him by placing Ilya in his arms, thought for a second that he would drop the child, but he didn't. "Go ahead," she said, nudging him.
Vaughn lay Ilya on the floor, bringing the front of the diaper around and fastening the sides with quivering fingers, trying not to let Sydney see how badly his hands were actually shaking.
"Not so tight," Sydney whispered in his ear, kneeling beside him.
He followed her directions without a word, loosening the right side before patting the adhesive down gently. He didn't know why he was so nervous now. The hard part had been finished before she had come in the room. But somehow, with her watching him…
Sydney handed him a shirt and a little pair of pants. Vaughn held the jeans up in front of them both, sharing her smile at their tiny size. Slowly and carefully, he put them on, sitting Ilya up and gently removing his shirt and replacing it with another one. Standing and searching through the bags, Vaughn found a pair of socks and some shoes and put them on the little boy, smiling in satisfaction when he finished.
"You did it."
Her voice in his ear nearly sent him hurtling over the edge, taking her with him and threatening to even further scar the child before them. But Vaughn held back, putting an arm around her neck rather than plastering his lips to hers, basking in the success he had achieved at what had appeared such an impossible task.
She returned his embrace, standing and gathering the garbage that had accumulated around the room. "I'll take Ilya to the grocery store so that you can have some peace here."
He didn't even think before he said it. It had just seemed natural, ordinary, right. The words flying out of his mouth before he could stop them, realizing as he heard them, that he wouldn't have wanted to, glad they had been said.
"I'll come with you."
The surprise on her face made it worth it. She knew that he didn't mind doing certain chores like laundry or cleaning the house, would even wash the dishes, drying and putting them away without her asking. But he hated grocery shopping.
Her head snapped in his direction, eyebrows raising. "Aren't the Kings playing in a few minutes?"
He nodded, they both knew he had been looking forward to this game for days. "Against the Islanders."
"Then don't you want to…"
"I'll come with you," he repeated again, the words flowing just as easily as they had the first time, even more so because this time he had meant to say them.
Sydney returned his smile, glad that nobody but Ilya was in the room, because they surely must've looked like a pair of love-struck teenagers grinning stupidly at each other. She had to pool all her strength in resisting the urge to kiss him, knowing that once she touched him, she wouldn't be able to stop.
"Okay."
They continued cleaning the room and were soon on their way out the door. Sydney smiled to herself as they crossed through the living room, noticing the blinking red light on the VCR and knowing that not only would he be able to watch the game later, but he would also be able to fast forward through the commercials.
"Syd?" Vaughn asked gently, having to shake her once again from her reverie. He was slowly becoming accustomed to having to do that, not questioning the sudden increase in frequency or what she had been thinking about.
His fingertips tenderly brushed against her jaw line, no longer listening to their master and unable to resist the impulse to touch her skin. She opened her mouth to speak, to pour out her heart to him and tell him everything he had wanted and would ever want to hear.
And the phone rang, incinerating the moment and causing a startled Ilya to jump and snuggle further into her arms.
