Title: Captured Moments: Blatherskite

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

Genre: S/V Fluff

Rating: PG

Summary: Rain and Frank Sinatra, anyone?

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.

Sometimes I wake up, and I'm falling asleep,
And I think that maybe the curtains are closing on me,
But I wake up,
Yes I wake up,
Smiling.

- No More Keeping My Feet On The Ground, Coldplay

I was soaking wet.

A drown rat, brown hair sticking in uncomfortable and heavy clumps around my head, settling on tired, aching, and I'm sure tense shoulders. While before I was upset that I was dragged from my nice, warm, and dry house without my purse, a security blanket carried with the masked purpose of need, I now see it was a very good thing to leave the cloth and most certainly not waterproof item back where the contents would stay safe. Cold, shivering, unhappy, I was standing in a downpour rumored by the cute meteorologist on channel four to cause floods in some of the lower areas.

And he was running around as if he were four years old.

While this childlike movement should have at least brought a smile to my face, I found my scowl deepening as he ran in a circle, arms held up high to the sky, as if he were a simple child escaped from the care of his mother, rebelling against authority and nature at the same time.

At least, if he were the rebellious type, I'd believe it.

"Are you finished yet?" I called out, cupping my hands around my mouth in a vain effort to rise above the pelting rain.

My tree was little refuge.

He apparently heard me and ran over to me, face covered in a large, goofy grin. Strong hands came to grip my shoulders, his eyes wide and excited. I frowned.

"You're drunk, aren't you? That's why you pulled me out here?" I asked skeptically, cocking my head to the side. He grin faltered, hands falling to cup my arms now. I was surprised at how warm they were even after his 10 minutes running through freezing pre-winter rain, and almost welcomed a hug.

If he hadn't been soaking as well.

His smile faltered, eyes cast downward. "Don't tell me you never played in the rain as a kid."

"I did," I replied in my own defense, as if dancing in the rain was some kind of normality, that if you didn't, you were some kind of mutant.

Playing in the rain here could make you a mutant.

"So why would I have to be drunk to do so?"

"Vaughn," I whined, drawing out the vowels in his name. "It's freezing, I have to work tomorrow, and I'm 28 years old."

"I'm still failing to see your point."

The man could be so frustrating at times.

"Listen, Syd? We live in a world dictated by rules and secrets. And tomorrow, yes, you have to work, but why does that make it so you can't allow yourself to let go? To just, well, dance in the rain?" He took on that kind of thoughtful look, his eyes almost shimmering as raindrops fluttered around his eyelashes, falling down the lines in his face. He had a point, I had to admit. A very good, valid point.

Lighting flashed behind us, had to be, because the moment the loud rumble of thunder sounded, I'd jumped into his arms, no longer caring about getting wet. He laughed, throwing his head to the sky, catching raindrops in his mouth, his arms tightening around me as if nothing would take me from him.

"Do you still want to stand under a tree?" he asked, whispering in my ear. He felt so warm and inviting, a jacket to weather the storm, not only a storm of rain and thunder, but of lies and truths thrown from a distance. With wind and water swirling around us, the thoughts of him being my anchor became frighteningly literal.

"No."

"Smart girl," he replied, and let me go, cold wind rushing at me, tugging at my bones. He pulled on my hand, leading me from my temporary refuge, my safe place from the unknown, leading me out into the empty field that doubled as a soccer field on sunny afternoons after school let out. Rain fell on my face, large spheres of tainted water, make-up already running down my face in rivulets of black, snaking down my face. I could feel it.

Vaughn tugged on my hand and started running in circles around me, pulling me to join him. Round and round we spun, water splashing our faces, laughter echoing, louder than imposing thunder and lightning – we were in our own little world where nothing matter except each other, the world spinning into a black and green blur, only each other staying in focus as we spun.

And I realized, then, that no matter how much the world spun out of control, how unrecognizable things became, that out here in the open world, away from things I knew and could run to, he would always be there, sharp, in focus, holding my hand through it all even if I could not see him.

But then he let go.

Rain had made our hands slick, pushing us apart. I went spinning and tumbling, slipping on the wet grass and falling to the ground.

But laughing.

It was liberating, dancing in the rain. I let myself fall back to the soft wet grass, closing my eyes as water fell over me, cleansing me. Cliché, I know, but that's how it felt. As if all my worries were washing away and falling with the rain, that I could take whatever was thrown at me.

Then I heard it.

It was faint at first, a soft melody just under the steady rhythm of the rain falling on the pavement nearby; a song I could hear but not understand. But then it got louder.

"'Just singing in the rain, what a glorious feeling, I'm happy again, I'm laughing at clouds…'"

My heart leapt in my throat, the words becoming more and more recognizable over the pounding of the rain, the occasional rumble of threatening thunder.

"'So dark up above, 'cause the sun's in my heart, and I'm ready for love, let the stormy clouds chase, everyone from the place, come on with the rain…'"

Unable to stay in the dark any longer, I opened my eyes, grinning, to find Vaughn standing above me, his jacket cockeyed as he smiled softly down at me. I sat up gingerly, making sure nothing was broken other than my ego for slipping on the grass. He crouched down, taking my hand in his, the song falling off his lips in a sweet deep melody.

"'I've a smile on my face, I'll walk down the lane, with a happy refrain, 'cause I'm singing, just singing in the rain,'" he sang to me, ending his impromptu performance with a soft, delicate kiss to my hand. His lips were wet, soft, perfect, and as he rose from the kiss, I pulled his face to mine, a hand snaking behind his head, running through his hair as we kissed, deep, supple. Perfect.

He was my safe haven, my net to be caught on.

As he pulled away, reluctant, he took my hand in his. "C'mon, let's get you home."

Hand in hand, steps light with laughter, I babbled the entire way home, content with his hand and laughter to keep me safe from the storm.