Title: Dreams and Resolutions
Genre: Flangst (fluffy angst)
Disclaimer: I don't own the show, etc.
Author's Note: I'm sorry I didn't get this out earlier, this has been a
crazy week... :wacko: Hopefully it'll be done in short order though, so it
still feels like we're in the season.
Prologue: That's What I Want for Christmas
"Why would someone make a collection of depressing Christmas songs?" Sydney muttered as the final strains of "Blue Christmas" faded away, leading into the next song. "And why would I be listening to it?" she added, burying her face into a throw pillow.
The harsh ring of the phone jarred her from her melancholy thoughts. "Go away," she mumbled. "I don't want to talk to anyone right now."
All thoughts of ignoring the call disappeared though when a familiar voice came over the answering machine. "Syd? Are you there?" Vaughn asked. "If you're there, please pick up, I need to talk to you." He waited for a moment then said, "Okay, I guess you're out. Well..."
"Wait! Vaughn don't hang up!" she pled as she grabbed the phone from the cradle. "Vaughn! Are you still there?" she asked.
"Yeah, I'm still here. Why didn't you pick up earlier?"
"Well..." she said, twisting the phone cord around her finger.
"You wanted to be left alone," he surmised, kicking himself for calling her on Christmas Eve. Of course she wanted to be alone, he should have known that. But after he'd read Lauren's letter, all he could think about was Syd. He didn't want to waste anymore time.
"Kind of," she replied, hoping he wouldn't feel bad for calling.
"I could call back later," he said hesitantly.
"No! I really just didn't want a sympathy call from my dad," she admitted.
"I wasn't aware Jack Bristow gave sympathy calls," he said, a grin crossing his face.
"He does sometimes," Syd said, rolling her eyes. "So what's up Vaughn? You sound... different. Is something wrong?"
"No, I don't think I'd say something's wrong, but something is definitely different," he said, repressed excitement and nervousness evident in his voice.
"What is it?" she asked, her brow wrinkling in curiosity and confusion.
"Ah... actually, I'm not sure I want to do this over the phone," he told her. "Do you have plans for tomorrow?"
"Vaughn, tomorrow is Christmas Day," she reminded him.
"You have plans then?" he asked, disappointed.
"No, but I'd think you would, or at least your wife would," she pointed out, not trying to hide the grimace that crossed her face when she thought of Lauren. That's the great thing about phone calls, no one can tell what kind of faces you're making.
"Let me worry about my wife," he said enigmatically. "I'll be over in the morning with breakfast and we can talk."
"Any clue as to what this is about?"
"Nope," he said smugly. "You'll just have to wait until morning."
"Fine," she sighed. "I guess I'd better get to bed then, my dad always said that Christmas comes faster if you sleep."
"Good night Syd, I'll see you in the morning," he said, laughing as he hung up the phone.
"In the morning," Sydney murmured as she set the phone back on the cradle, listening once more to the music that was still playing faintly.
"When you come home at night
Take me in your arms and hold me
Kiss me, and say you love me, love me, oh love me
That's what I want for Christmas
That's what I want for Christmas."
Prologue: That's What I Want for Christmas
"Why would someone make a collection of depressing Christmas songs?" Sydney muttered as the final strains of "Blue Christmas" faded away, leading into the next song. "And why would I be listening to it?" she added, burying her face into a throw pillow.
The harsh ring of the phone jarred her from her melancholy thoughts. "Go away," she mumbled. "I don't want to talk to anyone right now."
All thoughts of ignoring the call disappeared though when a familiar voice came over the answering machine. "Syd? Are you there?" Vaughn asked. "If you're there, please pick up, I need to talk to you." He waited for a moment then said, "Okay, I guess you're out. Well..."
"Wait! Vaughn don't hang up!" she pled as she grabbed the phone from the cradle. "Vaughn! Are you still there?" she asked.
"Yeah, I'm still here. Why didn't you pick up earlier?"
"Well..." she said, twisting the phone cord around her finger.
"You wanted to be left alone," he surmised, kicking himself for calling her on Christmas Eve. Of course she wanted to be alone, he should have known that. But after he'd read Lauren's letter, all he could think about was Syd. He didn't want to waste anymore time.
"Kind of," she replied, hoping he wouldn't feel bad for calling.
"I could call back later," he said hesitantly.
"No! I really just didn't want a sympathy call from my dad," she admitted.
"I wasn't aware Jack Bristow gave sympathy calls," he said, a grin crossing his face.
"He does sometimes," Syd said, rolling her eyes. "So what's up Vaughn? You sound... different. Is something wrong?"
"No, I don't think I'd say something's wrong, but something is definitely different," he said, repressed excitement and nervousness evident in his voice.
"What is it?" she asked, her brow wrinkling in curiosity and confusion.
"Ah... actually, I'm not sure I want to do this over the phone," he told her. "Do you have plans for tomorrow?"
"Vaughn, tomorrow is Christmas Day," she reminded him.
"You have plans then?" he asked, disappointed.
"No, but I'd think you would, or at least your wife would," she pointed out, not trying to hide the grimace that crossed her face when she thought of Lauren. That's the great thing about phone calls, no one can tell what kind of faces you're making.
"Let me worry about my wife," he said enigmatically. "I'll be over in the morning with breakfast and we can talk."
"Any clue as to what this is about?"
"Nope," he said smugly. "You'll just have to wait until morning."
"Fine," she sighed. "I guess I'd better get to bed then, my dad always said that Christmas comes faster if you sleep."
"Good night Syd, I'll see you in the morning," he said, laughing as he hung up the phone.
"In the morning," Sydney murmured as she set the phone back on the cradle, listening once more to the music that was still playing faintly.
"When you come home at night
Take me in your arms and hold me
Kiss me, and say you love me, love me, oh love me
That's what I want for Christmas
That's what I want for Christmas."