Title: Captured Moments: Lazy Sunday

Author: Kira [kira at sd-1 dot com]

Genre: S/V Fluff

Rating: PG

Summary: Captured moments from daily life.

Timeline: Between Phase One and The Telling, just randomly in there, as we didn't see every moment of their short time together.

Author's Note: These started as small drabbles to keep my fans happy while I finished my longer fic, Chronic Vertigo and grew into Fluff Pills to be read post-episode to cope with the triangle. It's a series, each one short and stand-alone. This one was actually 2 parts, because it was just too cute to put into one!

"You're still in your pajamas?"

"In my own defense, I did go out for a run," Sydney replied, sipping at a cup of tea at the breakfast nook. Lying on the counter before her was the Sunday paper, retrieved at the conclusion of her morning exercise, the plastic back it came in discarded, the paper laid as flat as it would go, the center still buckling from being stuffed and folded in half for so long. Vaughn swooped down and kissed Sydney gently on the lips before snatching up the paper and sorting through the various sections until he found what he was searching for – the sports page. Sydney snorted into her tea as he flopped down onto the couch, falling over the back with a sense of practice to land half-lying.

"Are you planning to sit there all day reading the sports page?" Sydney asked, turning in her chair. A foot, one of the two over the back of the couch, answered for him, nodding up and down.

"It's my day off," a disembodied voice commented after the feet. "I might as well do something unconstructive."

"Unconstructive?" Sydney asked, mulling over the word, the English teacher in her unable to simply let it slide. "I don't be – "

"If I were being constructive today, I might care," the voice interrupted her. She smiled, and instead of pouting because of his comment, she jumped off the stool and initiated the best payback ever.

Feet Tickling. And he was wide open.

"Oh my, Syd, sto – c'mon Syd!" He didn't manage to really finish a word as he squirmed and scrunched up onto the couch, Sydney holding his feet firmly in place as she laughed and administered his punishment. He finally managed to pull his feet up to him, bringing her over the back of the couch and on top of him. He smirked up at her, a devilish glint in his eyes.

"Hey there, sweetie. Decided to come meet me on the couch, I see."

"Yeah," she grinned, the word longer than usual as her eyes sparkled. "It's nice over here."

"Isn't it?" he asked. Sydney nodded, relaxed, her head resting on his warm chest, finding her own breathing slow as she matched his even pace. Vaughn looked down at her, a hand resting in her chestnut hair. She looked so comfortable, so serene; he almost had heart enough to re-think his next move. Almost.

His hand moved from her head, brushing her hair down her back, tracing a line down her back to rest at her side, his other hand moving to settle on her other side. She murmured something unintelligible, almost snuggling into him. He sighed, but his smirk widened none the less.

Tickle revenge.

Sydney literally launched into the air, squealing as he assaulted her sides. His fluttering fingers were soft upon her skin, driving her mad as tears welded in her eyes. She wished he would stop, yet at the same time, she wished he wouldn't.

"Vaughn!" she cried, her voice high-pitched, accenting the 'a' in his name. He let out a small laugh, completely assaulting her sides as she laughed, tears streaming from her eye. "Michael!" she cried when she could take a breath, her small hands coming to his stomach. She knew he was ticklish on his stomach.

He shrieked. Actually shrieked.

While Will still held the record in this department, his shriek caused Sydney to stop short, her face resembling an 'O' as she raised herself on him, her hands resting evenly on his broad chest, looking down at him and his red face.

"Was that….did I just?" he asked somewhat oddly. Sydney simply nodded slowly. "You know that's my soft spot."

She nodded slowly again.

He sighed, a now free hand running down his face. "I'm not going to live that down, am I?"

"No way in hell."

"Damn," Vaughn groaned, letting a hand drop to the floor, grabbing his discarded sports page. Sydney narrowed her eyes.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked.

"I've got to regain my manhood," he replied, opening it up, blocking her face from his view. She sighed and lifted a hand, pulling the paper down with the simple downward movement of her index finger.

"Vaughn, we have the day off," she stated sternly, "and you're going to spend it reading the sports page?"

His eyes flickered up to hers. "Maybe."

She seemed to accept it for a moment, her hand releasing his paper. He frowned behind it, confused, and let it fall to the floor, clearing the air between them once again. This time, there was no air of humor or revenge, just of silence, waiting for either one to say something.

"What did you want to do today?" he asked, his face lighting up, his lips curled almost into that small smile, threatening to move into it at any second.

"It's beautiful out, a perfect day for a picnic," she replied almost dreamily, her head cocking childishly to the side.

"Seriously?"

"What?" she asked, suddenly defensive.

"I think that's a great idea," he replied, the smile now there in full force. She giggled, excited. How could he do that? Accept her and all she was with such ease? As if he could secretly see inside her heart, keeping it whole and perfect in his grasp while asking for nothing in return. She always felt as light as a feather when is his care, in his arms, free to be herself, to throw out anything and become accepted. To be loved.

Her eyes caught the fallen paper, though, and she moved to look at the sky outside. A few more hours wouldn't bring rain, only more sunshine.

"Scoot up," she commanded, pointing at the throw pillow above his head. He gave her a quizzical look, but complied after she did not waver, her finger still pointing. She flipped over, her head resting in the crook of his neck, his right arm coming up to wrap around her waist without any thought involved. "Now," she said, picking the paper up from the floor and putting it in his left hand, "explain this stuff to me."

If she could have seen his face, she would have laughed. He lit up, excited. Something she discovered soon enough as they spent the morning laying there together, sharing in each other's differences as his excited and rushed voice went through page by page, his passion for it all shining through.

The picnic could wait. She was much more comfortable there, in his arms, breathing in his scent, warm and protected as if the world outside the couch did not exist.

..

"I didn't think the park would be this crowded."

Sydney sighed as she scanned the clusters of people dotting the large park, instincts honed to perfection over the years. She instantly assessed them all, looking for any threat. It was hard to do so, the smiling, jovial faces giving her nothing but a complete sense of happiness. Vaughn squeezed her hand, sending her extra confidence.

"It's Sunday," he commented, "plus, look at the sky."

She did, shielding her eyes as her gaze shifted to the clear blue sky above, a few clouds shifting with the temperate wind. How long had it been since she'd been able to appreciate something as simple as a clear sky?

"How about over there?"

Vaughn brought her back to Earth by pointing to a small rise settled in a corner of the park, the running track the only thing separating the tree-shaded retreat from the soft lulls of the water. Only a few people ventured near this secluded spot; amazing with the draw of solitude, of beauty found in the ordinary.

Vaughn thought it would be perfect.

He pulled her forward, their hands linked in an unbreakable grip - if a child were to run Red Rover at them, he would fall back, the binding of their love unbreakable. He brought her next to him, smiling down at her as she smiled at him.

The pair caught the attention of all they passed, drawing bystanders' eyes to the corner trees as Sydney placed the basket on the cushioned grass; they shied away then, leaving the pair to their picnic. Vaughn took the small blanket from under his arm and flipped it out in the air, laying it flat over the grass before falling onto it.

"C'mere," he smirked, lying on his back, hands held up into the air. She looked down at him, confused. He pouted, sticking out his bottom lip like a small child begging for something he wanted with all his heart and yet could not have. He felt as if she were this gift handed to him, something he didn't deserve yet somehow managed to get - and he wasn't going to ever let go.

She fell into his arms.

He curled his arms around her, twisting her so her head rested on his shoulder while her legs sprawled onto the empty blanket, his arms crossed over her, hands dancing over her stomach as the pair looked once again to the sky.

"That one looks like a bunny," she giggled.

"Which one?" Vaughn asked, confused, into her ear. She gripped his wrist, her fingers coming up short, unable to fully encircle it, and pulled his arm up to point to the cloud in question. He followed it and frowned.

"That's not a bunny," he pouted.

"Then what is it?"

"Frog."

She leaned her head up, finding his eyes just over the strong angle of his jaw.

"How is that a frog?"

He leaned up and gazed down at her. "How is that a bunny?"

"The ears, there," she said, moving their arms to trace out the ears. He stopped her midway, pulling against her to trace something out himself.

"Those," he stated, now moving her arm, "are the frog's feet."

"Feet?!" she exclaimed, sitting up, her long brown hair falling over her shoulder as she cocked her head to the side, scrutinizing him. He shrugged, as well as he could and laced his fingers behind his head. Sydney playfully slapped his stomach.

"Hey!"

"You were looking a little smug," she retorted, turning her attention to the picnic basket. Vaughn turned, leaning on his side, watching her as she carefully unpacked the sandwiches and snacked, plucked from their (now) well-stocked kitchen. She seemed focused on the task, making sure not displace any of the Tupperware containers' contents with a grace learned from countless missions on which precision movement was the only thing between life and death. He smiled, remembering that time, yesterdays ago, the packages of C4 and lasers, the small movements and a memorized laser grid.

Her skin was golden, the sun only lending to its glow. He watched her with complete amazement, counting his lucky stars she had reciprocated his feelings.

The hairs on the back of Sydney's neck prickled, and she turned to find him there, completely absorbed in her.

"What?" she asked, blushing. He reached up with a hand, caressing her check with a soft thumb. She leaned into his hand, her eyes slipping closed.

"You're perfect," he sighed.

"Flattery," she replied, opening her eyes and opening the foil around her sandwich. Sydney took a bite and pushed his towards him.

"Never."

"How did I get so lucky?"

"I just have good taste."

"Meanie," she smirked, and took another bite. Vaughn laughed and sat up.

"Mean? Me?"

Sydney nodded, chewing on her lunch.

"C'mon."

She swallowed. "It's true!"

He pouted. Sydney laughed and took pity on him, putting an arm around his shoulders, leaning a head on one of them. "But don't worry," she grinned devilishly, "you have other redeeming qualities."

He laughed and kissed her on the cheek.

"This picnic was a great idea."

"Thank you," she said, taking his words from years before. "I know."