Title: Two Words

Author: snowangel

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except a car that is almost as old as I am. (No joke.)

Summary: Vaughn struggles with unhappiness caused by two words. Written for the Sd-1. Feb. Challenge. This is a short little piece, enjoy and don't hesitate to review!

Much unhappiness has come into this world because of things left unsaid. Specifically, because of two words left unsaid. Most people wait their entire lives to hear three words. Three words, not two. But as he's standing there rigidly in an elegant tuxedo he's not waiting for three words, he's waiting for two.  I object.

It's a perfect day. The watery blue sky blankets the earth as the tiniest breeze tickles the trees, barely perceivable, except to the most sensitive person. The sweet fragrance of roses linger in the air, and the quiet murmurings of the guests are almost musical against a backdrop of singing robins and the sounds of nature. He sticks out unnaturally in the serene atmosphere, stiffly standing, his eyes nervously sweeping the lush lawn that displays white wooden chairs adorned with pale pink roses, all lined up in perfectly symmetrical rows.

         "Hey man relax." A voice calls out to him and he feels a light slap on his shoulder. He turns and faces Eric and half forges a smile but it comes out as more of a grimace. "You'll do fine."

         He nods in response and turns back around surveying the crowd. Surprisingly it's not too large yet he doesn't know half of the people there. His eyes focus on Dixon and Marshal who are seated near the front, holding a quiet conversation.

         "This just doesn't feel right." He speaks as he turns back around to Eric. Eric doesn't reply for a moment, just purses his lips and stares at the ground for a moment before speaking.

         "Sometimes things that don't feel right really are right." He offers weakly before continuing. "Look, I know what you're wishing right now, and I'd be lying to you if I said I wasn't wishing the same thing. But Mike, things change. Life rarely turns out how we think it will or want it to."

         Silence follows as Vaughn resumes his perusing of the crowd. "But Lauren is a good woman. She loves you and I know you love her too." Eric continues, "This is right, and this is real." He states, watching his friend intently as he breathes deeply.

         Strains of delicate music waft through the air and the guests become still. It's starting. Vaughn watches the scene unfold before him in a daze before he spots her gliding towards him.

         "She's beautiful." He hears Eric whisper softly and he nods imperceptibly in agreement. His eyes are marveling at her beauty but his mind begins to scream two words. I object. Soundlessly she takes her place next to him and gives him a shy smile. He returns it but only thinks of how wrong this feels as the minister begins his monologue.

"We are gathered here today to celebrate one of life's greatest moments, to give recognition to the worth and beauty of love…"

He reaches out and brushes a stray piece of hair behind her ear as their silent footsteps disappear into the darkness of night.

"Vaughn…" She murmurs, not really wanting to finish the sentence as she's so close to him she can smell his musky cologne and a hint of wine that lingers on his breath.

"You never call me Michael." He says, as he simply gazes into her eyes as a shy smile tugs on her lips and her eyes sparkle with contentment.

"Michael…" She begins again and she's delighted to see the grin that overcomes his faces and she lets out a small laugh. This only causes him to smile even more as he leans in close, capturing her lips in his. She's enraptured by his touch as the sound of a quiet moan reaches her ears and draws her from her euphoria as she realizes its her own.

"Vaughn, not here." She half moans, half whispers as she pulls away ever so slightly.

He smiles at the use of his last name again before questioning her frankly, "Why not?" She glances around the deserted street as he continues, "I mean, I think we look ridiculous enough already." He says with a twinkle in his eyes. She doesn't dispute the fact as they're standing on the sidewalk, dancing slowly to music that's wafting out from someone's open apartment window above them. It's past midnight and they're silhouetted from a street light that streams yellow light towards them, encasing them in a gold circle of radiance.

"Should there be anyone who has cause why this couple should not be united in marriage, they must speak now or forever hold their peace." The words shatter his reverie as he waits for someone to say it. I object. Anyone to say it. A brief moment of silence ensues before the minister continues, but those two words don't cease tumbling about in his head. He's sweating now, most people see it as nerves but in his reality it is an overbearing sense of dread, anxiety, but mostly guilt. I object.

         "Do you ever think that it's all just a scam?" She says, looking sadly out at the waves that drift towards the shore, disappearing as quickly as they came, leaving their mark on the sand for only a tiny moment.

         "What is?" He asks, his eyes trained upon the water as well.

         "Marriage." She answers, her eyes not straying, rooted to their position in the waves. He turns and studies her closely as she draws her knees up and tucks them under herself, hugging them close to her chest. He waits a moment for her to explain herself.  "I mean, it's just so tainted. Too much scandal, betrayal and pain."

         He contemplates a response but hears her voice again. "Isn't there just a point where people can see this and figure out that they don't want to be hurt?" She questions rhetorically.

         "No." His answer is simply and soft, and it causes her to break her gaze away from the ocean and to look to his face for more answers. "Because of love." He states, earnestly looking into her eyes.

         His honestly and intensity frighten her a bit, causing her to stare rapidly at the sand below her. She feels almost guilty and is a little ashamed as she studies the patterns the moonlight forms as it shines through the spaces of the bench they're sitting on.  A long silence passes. He refrains from saying anything further and he knows she's processing what he said. She doesn't look up as she speaks again.

         "I just...sometimes…" She struggles but he waits for her to continue, "I don't understand it sometimes." She finishes, her voice a bit strained. He's come to know her indisputably well and he senses her tears before he can see them. He pulls her close to him, the little ball she had wound herself into comes undone as she sprawls one arm across his chest and lets her head rest below his chin.

         He's at a total lost for words as he strokes her hair absent-mindedly. He doesn't understand it either. All he understands is the way is heart jumps when he first sees her everyday, how he's anxious when he's not with her, and that he can't imagine how he could possibly live a day without her. His even breathing relaxes her and as moments slip away and waves continue breaking on the shore he thinks she's fallen asleep. She doesn't stir as the sound of her voice interrupts the night.

         "Vaughn, even though we haven't said it," She says burrowing closer, "I do." She completes in a soft voice.

         "Me too." He replies easily and honestly. He can feel her smile against his chest and just wants to freeze time so he can remember exactly how he feels for all eternity.

         "Funny how words can change so little." She says enigmatically as she yawns deeply and burrows closer to his chest.

         "Funny how words can change so much." He counters gently and in just as a mysterious manner as she. A comfortable silence follows and he feels the rhythm of her breathing slowly merge to an exact match to his. This time she has fallen asleep.

Time seems to freeze as he stands at the altar. I object. Panic starts seeping into his consciousness and he can hear his own breath reverberate through his ears. He picks up on the word 'marriage' and can't help feel scandal, betrayal and pain. This has to stop. I object. His heart screams at him but somehow the signal got lost in his brain as another moment ticks by and he is silent. I object.



             He pulls up slowly to her apartment, the only sounds being the mechanic rhythm of his car's engine. The last lurch of the car brings a sense of finality to the silent reprieve they held on the way home. She shakes her head slightly before she speaks, her words soft and defeated.

"Sloane's got the device…" She starts, looking down at her hands, "and my mother, she…"

But her words are truncated as he reaches across the car and gingerly takes her chin in the palm of his hand. "Another day."

He answers a question she never asks and he sees relief flash across her eyes before he brings his lips to her own. She's lost in the brief moment, and he is too but he reluctantly pulls away, thoughts of her hidden smile upon his mind.

         "So I did it." He offers with a smile. Her eyebrows twitch slightly and the corners of her mouth turn up in question.
          "Did what?"
         "I booked the hotel." He says with a grin.
         "No you didn't." She says, unable to hide the formations of her smile any longer.
         "Yes I did." He replies proudly.
         "You did?" Her dimples make an unabashed appearance, mirroring the ones in his own cheeks as she closes her eyes briefly.

He mutters out an affirmative response, "Mm-hmm." Noticing that he can literally see the anticipation in her eyes.
         "Santa Barbara." She reaffirms, as if in disbelief that something this great could happen to her.
         "Three nights starting tonight. I mean, it was probably the greatest phone call I've ever made." The words are light and they reflect her mood, suddenly changed by his words.
          "Well, you're a genius."
         "Thank you." He manages to say before his lips are on hers again and he realizes his impatience as he wishes tonight to appear at this very instant so he won't have to take his lips off of hers.

His mind is screaming it so loud he's surprised Lauren doesn't hear it. I object, I object I object. He's waiting desperately for the materialization of the words but his thoughts cloud his mind as he watches the minister's lips move. He's working up all the courage he possibly can, his hands are sweating and he clenches them into a fist momentarily and he hopes no one will notice. I object, I object, I object. He hears words being spoken and he mechanically comprehends them though his heart is pounding so loudly in his chest it rivals his mantra that obtrusively revolves in his brain. Just breathe, he reminds himself. The anticipation is killing him now and he tells himself he will not be a coward, it's just two words, two easy words. Just say it! He watches as the minister looks expectantly at him as he holds her hand that now is the time to speak. Just two words. He takes a deep breath and speaks two words. "I do."