3
London, England (well, duh!) The Hotel Near The Airport (i havent been there in a while, give me a break!)
My mind's still on a euphoric high from my little thing with Vaughn. Flirting... the other powerful drug. He's arranging our room, and i'm standing with the bags, attempting not to focus on the fact that it's 8pm, and in a couple of hours, i'll be in a bed with Vaughn. Heck, i know that its not actually a necessity, i mean, who the hell's gonna see us together, but better to practise being all in love. Not hard. Even tired, Vaughn looks gorgeous.
Wait a sec, where did all this come from? I mean, i've always thought Vaughn was a honey, cos, well, i have eyes, but, jeez, i'm getting all gooey over him. Thoughts that i shouldnt be having keep going through my mind, and, y'know, i think i like them.
Finally, he's finished talking; in an English accent i swear is the hottest thing ever, and he approaches, brandishing one of those little credit card thingies, smiling. he drawls 'Ready, my love?' and winks - in full view of the other folks in the lobby.
Oooh, this is harder than i thought. I think i'm swooning. 'Yeah.' God, i *hate* my accent. I need a better one.
Ascending the stairs, one of those attendant guys behind us, he takes my hand, and squeezes it, possessively, the way i remember i used to hold Danny's. There's no comparison though. Danny was wonderful, and i'll never forget him, but *this*... i dont know what it is, but i like it. And, how come i never noticed how good he smells? How come i never noticed that i could well be in love with my handler?
He leans over and whispers in my ear. 'Having fun yet?'
Take me, take me. 'Yeah, course. I always do when i'm with you' I drop the accent for a minute, so he gets it. He's slightly taken aback, but i know he likes it. I like the playfulness. I like that he's not all business. And, most of all, i love the envious looks passing single women throw at me when they walk past. Yeah, damn it, i have a complete God with me. And, we're going to have sex. Very soon. Really. I'm entertaining the thought right now. And the thought's entertaining me.
I'm thinking i shouldnt have had the 5th bottle of whatever the hell that stuff was on the plane, because just the thought of it is making my head swim. Is this what utter infatuation feels like? If so, i'm enjoying it.
Finally at our room, Vaughn throws open the door. Pushing him over the threshold, i'm on him, and our lips meet. God, its like an explosion. It's manic, it's hungry, and he pulls back. I'm disappointed, but he indicates a nervous room service guy, and reaches for his wallet.
I think i might be on fire. No, really. I'm tingling all over, and he hasnt even touched me yet. If that's from one kiss... it'll be a long night. I shoot a death glare borrowed from my Father at the unfortunate room service guy, and i think he's scared of me. My mother would be proud, i can tell. What little i know about her suggests this.
The door closing stirs me. We're alone. I move towards him, and he looks somewhere between confused and aroused. And i want it. Screw the CIA, screw SD-6. He moves back. 'Woah. That was pretty convincing.'
His backing up is halted by the wall behind us. 'Just practicing' and a i touch his cheek, a deeply intimate gesture for me.
Which he doesnt seem to get. Removing my hand, he says 'Syd, um, we shouldn't... i mean, mission stuff. I'm not supposed to... y'know' He looks nervous.
Wait a sec, i dont want the rulebook, i want *him*. 'Do you always live by the rules, Agent Vaughn? Fuck them. The rules arent here. Kendall isnt here. Sloane isnt here. It's just you and me' I wobble slightly. Shit, i *am* drunk, arent i? 'And, i've been thinking about this all day.' Not a lie.
I push him strongly against the wall and we kiss again, furiously, my mind screaming Yes, Yes!, my hands through his hair, holding him against me. He moves his hands down to my back, drawing me forward. I moan slightly, and he reverses our positions, thrusting me up, hard. Personally i've always hated not being in charge, but this time... i'm *really* not minding. I move downwards, to nibble slightly on his neck. He growls slightly, a very attractive, stimulating noise, and nips my ear with his teeth. Moving back to his lips, we resume. I must be over excited, because i think i bite his bottom lip.
He pulls back, licking his lips, looking half crazed. Which is likely reflected on my face. 'What is it?' No answer. 'Vaughn? What is it?' I move towards him again.
'We cant do this'
'Why not?' I genuinely do want to know. 'I thought you...'
Quietly, he states, 'I do. I want this. But, not now. You're drunk.'
Oooh, below the belt. 'Fuck you. I *so* am not!' The room is definitely spinning. 'Ok, maybe a little.'
He takes my hand, making me shiver. 'When we do... if we ever do, i want you to be sober, i want you to know exactly how you feel, and i want to know that you want me'
What, is he blind? I raise my voice. 'Hey, i may well be drunk, but i know what i do and dont want. What i do want is to screw you, preferably until i pass out from exhaustion. What i dont want, at this moment, is to be reminded of the fact that i shouldnt want this at all. That a professional relationship is all that i should want from you. Not that i should spend hours thinking about you, about this exact moment. So, yeah, maybe in the morning, when i've sobered off, i wont be quite so honest, and i may well not even remember this, but i wanted you. Like you want me. I always do!'
Then... blackness.
London, England (well, duh!) The Hotel Near The Airport (i havent been there in a while, give me a break!)
My mind's still on a euphoric high from my little thing with Vaughn. Flirting... the other powerful drug. He's arranging our room, and i'm standing with the bags, attempting not to focus on the fact that it's 8pm, and in a couple of hours, i'll be in a bed with Vaughn. Heck, i know that its not actually a necessity, i mean, who the hell's gonna see us together, but better to practise being all in love. Not hard. Even tired, Vaughn looks gorgeous.
Wait a sec, where did all this come from? I mean, i've always thought Vaughn was a honey, cos, well, i have eyes, but, jeez, i'm getting all gooey over him. Thoughts that i shouldnt be having keep going through my mind, and, y'know, i think i like them.
Finally, he's finished talking; in an English accent i swear is the hottest thing ever, and he approaches, brandishing one of those little credit card thingies, smiling. he drawls 'Ready, my love?' and winks - in full view of the other folks in the lobby.
Oooh, this is harder than i thought. I think i'm swooning. 'Yeah.' God, i *hate* my accent. I need a better one.
Ascending the stairs, one of those attendant guys behind us, he takes my hand, and squeezes it, possessively, the way i remember i used to hold Danny's. There's no comparison though. Danny was wonderful, and i'll never forget him, but *this*... i dont know what it is, but i like it. And, how come i never noticed how good he smells? How come i never noticed that i could well be in love with my handler?
He leans over and whispers in my ear. 'Having fun yet?'
Take me, take me. 'Yeah, course. I always do when i'm with you' I drop the accent for a minute, so he gets it. He's slightly taken aback, but i know he likes it. I like the playfulness. I like that he's not all business. And, most of all, i love the envious looks passing single women throw at me when they walk past. Yeah, damn it, i have a complete God with me. And, we're going to have sex. Very soon. Really. I'm entertaining the thought right now. And the thought's entertaining me.
I'm thinking i shouldnt have had the 5th bottle of whatever the hell that stuff was on the plane, because just the thought of it is making my head swim. Is this what utter infatuation feels like? If so, i'm enjoying it.
Finally at our room, Vaughn throws open the door. Pushing him over the threshold, i'm on him, and our lips meet. God, its like an explosion. It's manic, it's hungry, and he pulls back. I'm disappointed, but he indicates a nervous room service guy, and reaches for his wallet.
I think i might be on fire. No, really. I'm tingling all over, and he hasnt even touched me yet. If that's from one kiss... it'll be a long night. I shoot a death glare borrowed from my Father at the unfortunate room service guy, and i think he's scared of me. My mother would be proud, i can tell. What little i know about her suggests this.
The door closing stirs me. We're alone. I move towards him, and he looks somewhere between confused and aroused. And i want it. Screw the CIA, screw SD-6. He moves back. 'Woah. That was pretty convincing.'
His backing up is halted by the wall behind us. 'Just practicing' and a i touch his cheek, a deeply intimate gesture for me.
Which he doesnt seem to get. Removing my hand, he says 'Syd, um, we shouldn't... i mean, mission stuff. I'm not supposed to... y'know' He looks nervous.
Wait a sec, i dont want the rulebook, i want *him*. 'Do you always live by the rules, Agent Vaughn? Fuck them. The rules arent here. Kendall isnt here. Sloane isnt here. It's just you and me' I wobble slightly. Shit, i *am* drunk, arent i? 'And, i've been thinking about this all day.' Not a lie.
I push him strongly against the wall and we kiss again, furiously, my mind screaming Yes, Yes!, my hands through his hair, holding him against me. He moves his hands down to my back, drawing me forward. I moan slightly, and he reverses our positions, thrusting me up, hard. Personally i've always hated not being in charge, but this time... i'm *really* not minding. I move downwards, to nibble slightly on his neck. He growls slightly, a very attractive, stimulating noise, and nips my ear with his teeth. Moving back to his lips, we resume. I must be over excited, because i think i bite his bottom lip.
He pulls back, licking his lips, looking half crazed. Which is likely reflected on my face. 'What is it?' No answer. 'Vaughn? What is it?' I move towards him again.
'We cant do this'
'Why not?' I genuinely do want to know. 'I thought you...'
Quietly, he states, 'I do. I want this. But, not now. You're drunk.'
Oooh, below the belt. 'Fuck you. I *so* am not!' The room is definitely spinning. 'Ok, maybe a little.'
He takes my hand, making me shiver. 'When we do... if we ever do, i want you to be sober, i want you to know exactly how you feel, and i want to know that you want me'
What, is he blind? I raise my voice. 'Hey, i may well be drunk, but i know what i do and dont want. What i do want is to screw you, preferably until i pass out from exhaustion. What i dont want, at this moment, is to be reminded of the fact that i shouldnt want this at all. That a professional relationship is all that i should want from you. Not that i should spend hours thinking about you, about this exact moment. So, yeah, maybe in the morning, when i've sobered off, i wont be quite so honest, and i may well not even remember this, but i wanted you. Like you want me. I always do!'
Then... blackness.
