Vaughn unlocked the door of the darkened cottage and ushered Sydney inside.
The only illumination came from the moonlight flowing between the half-
drawn curtains on the windows. Islands of light formed amidst pools of
shadow, and while most of the cottage remained cloaked in darkness, the bed
in the corner of the room appeared a sea of silvery white.
Sydney held her breath, her pulse racing, as Vaughn took her hands and drew her to him, so that they stood as one with the moonlight streaming from the window above the bed.
Their first kiss, shared earlier that day, had taken them both by surprise. Until Sydney had walked into the cottage, Vaughn hadn't known he was going to kiss her. It had been brash--a decision made the instant he turned and saw her framed in the doorway. Although he had taken her by surprise, Syd's passionate response had been both immediate and instinctive. For a few, brief minutes, they had lived inside that kiss--the past, so full of pain, and the future, so full of uncertainty, ceasing to exist.
They had no such illusions now, and the knowledge made this moment all the more poignant. What had seemed so impossible for so long was suddenly so close, so imminent, so heart-wrenchingly and achingly real. The chance they were taking was enormous--the danger genuine. There was no going back, no undoing what they were about to do. It would be a declaration, a promise, a vow, and a sacrament--marking either the sweetest of beginnings or the saddest substantiation of what could have been.
Sydney placed her hands on Vaughn's hips just as she had when they had almost kissed on the plane coming back from Taipei. Hearing his sharp intake of breath, she glanced up at him and recognized in his eyes, desire, intermingled with a sense of wonder and deep vulnerability. She had seen it on his face many times, when he thought she wasn't looking--at the observatory, on the train, at the flower shop--as well as earlier that night at the restaurant, but never had she seen it expressed as openly and honestly as it was now.
She gazed back at him, mesmerized by the gray-green luminescence of his eyes, watching him slowly bring his mouth down to hers. She closed her eyes, and Vaughn brushed her lips with his own. The sensation was so gentle, tentative, and sweet, it made her ache for more. Feeling his warm breath on her cheek, she exhaled, her lips parting to meet his.
But, instead of returning immediately to her lips, Vaughn traced the line of her jaw with his mouth until he reached the delicate hollow behind her ear. Pausing to inhale the almond and vanilla scent of her body, he continued down her neck, kissing her milky white skin, shimmering in the moonlight.
He lingered at the pulse-point of her throat, and Sydney gasped. Threading her fingers through his hair, she tenderly reached to bring his head up level with her own. She kissed his upper lip and then his lower lip, and finally sealed his mouth with her own. Vaughn clasped her face in his hands, gently exploring her mouth with his tongue, inviting her to do the same.
She pressed herself against him, her entire body yearning for complete contact with his. Without removing his mouth from hers, Vaughn began sliding the straps of the red sundress down her shoulders, sending shivers cascading down her spine. In a moment the dress sank to the floor, joining the shawl already laying pooled at her feet. Sydney pulled insistently at Vaughn's fisherman's sweater and drew it up over his head.
They paused. The action evoked for them both the memory of the flight back from Taipei when she had helped him remove the tight, black t-shirt in order to bandage his ribs. It had been the first time she had dared to touch him intimately. That moment had led them to this point, these actions, this place.
Vaughn stood before her now, his bare chest bathed in moonlight. His clearly defined muscles were etched in silver, while the bandages around his torso, glowed a ghostly white.
Sydney placed her hands lightly over his cracked ribs, thinking of how the wave had slammed him against the security doors in Taipei. Although separated from him by glass and steel, she had recoiled from the wave's impact, reacting to his pain as if it had been her own. On the plane, he had made light of his injuries for her sake--trying as always to spare her pain, when it was he who was hurting. She looked up at him now, her gaze full of concern. Was he doing so now?
Vaughn responded simply by taking her hands in his. Lifting them to his lips, he kissed the abrasion marks still visible at the base of her wrists from the handcuffs Irina had shackled her with in Taipei, marveling at the fact that she could show so much concern for his injuries and pay so little heed to her own. He had seen her return from mission after mission--one set of injuries barely healed, before another set took its place. Would there come a time when he could peruse her body and not find the tell-tale signs of everything she endured? Gently cupping her chin in his hand, he kissed the faint bruise near her temple, where the guard had blindsided her with his gun.
So many injuries. So much pain. They'd been through so much already; how much more would they have to endure?
Sliding her hands through Vaughn's hair, Sydney drew his head back down and reached fervently for his mouth again with her own, her hands eagerly skimming across his shoulders, feeling the muscles of his back flex as she brought them around to his waist. As Vaughn reached behind her to undo her bra, she worked deftly at his belt buckle. It took only moments for them to shed the clothes which hindered them. They stood naked, together in the moonlight, and Vaughn gently drew her to the bed and down onto the feather mattress.
The cottage had become a haven from the malevolent forces which battered them. Their futures could not be foreseen, let alone guaranteed, but they had tonight--time enough to explore the moon-drenched hollows and planes of each other's bodies with a tenderness mixed with awe. Every kiss a revelation, every touch a sign of greater commitment and intimacy until they both trembled with desire, on the verge of union. For one, brief instant, Sydney panicked and pulled back from him, her eyes wide with alarm.
Somewhere along the way, the fear of abandonment that had haunted her since childhood had fused with the acute sense of self-preservation that espionage required, compelling her always to be on her guard and making it impossible for her to give herself completely to any of her previous lovers. Neither Danny nor Noah had realized that there was a limit to the intimacy she granted them, and in fact, she herself had been barely conscious of what it was she was withholding or why. There was simply the overwhelming need to remain in control.
But, Vaughn sensed this need as he sensed everything about her. The look in his eyes silently entreated her to let go of that final, desperate line of inner defense--to be as vulnerable with him as he was willing to be with her.
Seeing his eyes full of love, tenderness, and the purest, sweetest form of desire, she realized he understood her fragility while never doubting her strength. Sydney closed her eyes and tilted her head back, and he entered her like a key slipping into its lock. The feeling was exquisite, and her body responded instantly to his. A wave of sensations followed, each building on the other, radiating out from the center of her being. She moved with him, matching his passion with her own, letting it take her beyond all thought of safety or control. Her only desire was to be united with him, as much in body, as they were in heart and soul.
He cradled her head in his hands, and as soon as his name was on her lips, his lips were on her words.
As they lay in each other's arms, Syd could feel Vaughn's heart pound next to her own, gradually slowing to its natural rhythm. Perspiration clung to their bodies like dew.
Vaughn kissed her temple and ran his hand through the tangle of dark hair, spread across the pillow.
"Syd," he said, softly, "you asked me this afternoon if I ever brought Alice here, and I didn't answer you. Being born in Fleury, spending my summers here on Île Mariette--that's not information I've shared with a lot of people. I think I told you my father was transferred back to the United States when I was five. I started school in a new country--everything was strange, I was scared. The first day of kindergarten, the teacher asked each of us to go around in a circle and say our names. My turn came, and I saw all these little kids staring at me--and I introduced myself as Michel- -not Michael."
Sydney winced, and Vaughn laughed ruefully. "I learned my lesson. Once I convinced them that my parents hadn't given me a girl's name, I made sure I didn't make the same mistake a second time. I blended in after that--and that meant downplaying everything French. I wouldn't even speak French with my parents--not until we flew back each summer to Île Mariette--I always relented about halfway through the trans-Atlantic flight, and then they couldn't shut me up."
Sydney smiled, and Vaughn shifted his weight so that he could look directly into her eyes. "It's not quite like going undercover and becoming a double agent, but having a childhood split between two countries felt, at times, like leading a double life. Besides my family, there was absolutely no one I felt I could be truly open with--no one who saw me as I truly was--a mixture of both Michael and Michel."
Tears pricked at Sydney's eyelids. She reached up and touched his cheek, running her thumb across the dark stubble on his chin.
"I could have brought Alice to Île Mariette, but I didn't," Vaughn said in a low voice. "I wanted to share it with the woman I planned to spend the rest of my life with, and deep down I knew Alice wasn't that woman."
Sydney blinked, her heart pounding, almost forgetting to breathe. Vaughn gazed at her and continued on, a catch in his throat.
"If you asked me the precise moment I fell in love with you, I don't think I could tell you. I know it started the moment you walked into my office; it intensified the night you grabbed my hand at the pier. But do you know when I realized how deeply you were ingrained in my soul? When I told you I loved you in Taipei, and the words that came out of my mouth were in French."
Sydney's eyes reflected a turbulent mix of emotion as Vaughn went on, his voice rough.
"When Weiss outlined this op, I didn't hesitate even for a second before I suggested that we rendezvous here on Île Mariette. I told Weiss it was because we needed time to strategize, in a place remote enough not to raise the suspicions of your mother or SD-6. But the truth is, all I could think of was how wonderful it would be to be here with you, on the island where I spent the best summers of my life. Syd, I realized then, that the person I had been waiting to share Île Mariette with was you."
Sydney slowly brought his head down to hers, expressing with a kiss, everything she dare not put into words.
It was enough. Vaughn sank down beside her, cradling her head on his shoulder, and when he shifted his weight slightly, she nestled closer to him, fitting in to his side. She closed her eyes. Vaughn tightened his arm around her, and they slept, his cheek resting on her hair.
They were safe, but not for much longer.
Sydney held her breath, her pulse racing, as Vaughn took her hands and drew her to him, so that they stood as one with the moonlight streaming from the window above the bed.
Their first kiss, shared earlier that day, had taken them both by surprise. Until Sydney had walked into the cottage, Vaughn hadn't known he was going to kiss her. It had been brash--a decision made the instant he turned and saw her framed in the doorway. Although he had taken her by surprise, Syd's passionate response had been both immediate and instinctive. For a few, brief minutes, they had lived inside that kiss--the past, so full of pain, and the future, so full of uncertainty, ceasing to exist.
They had no such illusions now, and the knowledge made this moment all the more poignant. What had seemed so impossible for so long was suddenly so close, so imminent, so heart-wrenchingly and achingly real. The chance they were taking was enormous--the danger genuine. There was no going back, no undoing what they were about to do. It would be a declaration, a promise, a vow, and a sacrament--marking either the sweetest of beginnings or the saddest substantiation of what could have been.
Sydney placed her hands on Vaughn's hips just as she had when they had almost kissed on the plane coming back from Taipei. Hearing his sharp intake of breath, she glanced up at him and recognized in his eyes, desire, intermingled with a sense of wonder and deep vulnerability. She had seen it on his face many times, when he thought she wasn't looking--at the observatory, on the train, at the flower shop--as well as earlier that night at the restaurant, but never had she seen it expressed as openly and honestly as it was now.
She gazed back at him, mesmerized by the gray-green luminescence of his eyes, watching him slowly bring his mouth down to hers. She closed her eyes, and Vaughn brushed her lips with his own. The sensation was so gentle, tentative, and sweet, it made her ache for more. Feeling his warm breath on her cheek, she exhaled, her lips parting to meet his.
But, instead of returning immediately to her lips, Vaughn traced the line of her jaw with his mouth until he reached the delicate hollow behind her ear. Pausing to inhale the almond and vanilla scent of her body, he continued down her neck, kissing her milky white skin, shimmering in the moonlight.
He lingered at the pulse-point of her throat, and Sydney gasped. Threading her fingers through his hair, she tenderly reached to bring his head up level with her own. She kissed his upper lip and then his lower lip, and finally sealed his mouth with her own. Vaughn clasped her face in his hands, gently exploring her mouth with his tongue, inviting her to do the same.
She pressed herself against him, her entire body yearning for complete contact with his. Without removing his mouth from hers, Vaughn began sliding the straps of the red sundress down her shoulders, sending shivers cascading down her spine. In a moment the dress sank to the floor, joining the shawl already laying pooled at her feet. Sydney pulled insistently at Vaughn's fisherman's sweater and drew it up over his head.
They paused. The action evoked for them both the memory of the flight back from Taipei when she had helped him remove the tight, black t-shirt in order to bandage his ribs. It had been the first time she had dared to touch him intimately. That moment had led them to this point, these actions, this place.
Vaughn stood before her now, his bare chest bathed in moonlight. His clearly defined muscles were etched in silver, while the bandages around his torso, glowed a ghostly white.
Sydney placed her hands lightly over his cracked ribs, thinking of how the wave had slammed him against the security doors in Taipei. Although separated from him by glass and steel, she had recoiled from the wave's impact, reacting to his pain as if it had been her own. On the plane, he had made light of his injuries for her sake--trying as always to spare her pain, when it was he who was hurting. She looked up at him now, her gaze full of concern. Was he doing so now?
Vaughn responded simply by taking her hands in his. Lifting them to his lips, he kissed the abrasion marks still visible at the base of her wrists from the handcuffs Irina had shackled her with in Taipei, marveling at the fact that she could show so much concern for his injuries and pay so little heed to her own. He had seen her return from mission after mission--one set of injuries barely healed, before another set took its place. Would there come a time when he could peruse her body and not find the tell-tale signs of everything she endured? Gently cupping her chin in his hand, he kissed the faint bruise near her temple, where the guard had blindsided her with his gun.
So many injuries. So much pain. They'd been through so much already; how much more would they have to endure?
Sliding her hands through Vaughn's hair, Sydney drew his head back down and reached fervently for his mouth again with her own, her hands eagerly skimming across his shoulders, feeling the muscles of his back flex as she brought them around to his waist. As Vaughn reached behind her to undo her bra, she worked deftly at his belt buckle. It took only moments for them to shed the clothes which hindered them. They stood naked, together in the moonlight, and Vaughn gently drew her to the bed and down onto the feather mattress.
The cottage had become a haven from the malevolent forces which battered them. Their futures could not be foreseen, let alone guaranteed, but they had tonight--time enough to explore the moon-drenched hollows and planes of each other's bodies with a tenderness mixed with awe. Every kiss a revelation, every touch a sign of greater commitment and intimacy until they both trembled with desire, on the verge of union. For one, brief instant, Sydney panicked and pulled back from him, her eyes wide with alarm.
Somewhere along the way, the fear of abandonment that had haunted her since childhood had fused with the acute sense of self-preservation that espionage required, compelling her always to be on her guard and making it impossible for her to give herself completely to any of her previous lovers. Neither Danny nor Noah had realized that there was a limit to the intimacy she granted them, and in fact, she herself had been barely conscious of what it was she was withholding or why. There was simply the overwhelming need to remain in control.
But, Vaughn sensed this need as he sensed everything about her. The look in his eyes silently entreated her to let go of that final, desperate line of inner defense--to be as vulnerable with him as he was willing to be with her.
Seeing his eyes full of love, tenderness, and the purest, sweetest form of desire, she realized he understood her fragility while never doubting her strength. Sydney closed her eyes and tilted her head back, and he entered her like a key slipping into its lock. The feeling was exquisite, and her body responded instantly to his. A wave of sensations followed, each building on the other, radiating out from the center of her being. She moved with him, matching his passion with her own, letting it take her beyond all thought of safety or control. Her only desire was to be united with him, as much in body, as they were in heart and soul.
He cradled her head in his hands, and as soon as his name was on her lips, his lips were on her words.
As they lay in each other's arms, Syd could feel Vaughn's heart pound next to her own, gradually slowing to its natural rhythm. Perspiration clung to their bodies like dew.
Vaughn kissed her temple and ran his hand through the tangle of dark hair, spread across the pillow.
"Syd," he said, softly, "you asked me this afternoon if I ever brought Alice here, and I didn't answer you. Being born in Fleury, spending my summers here on Île Mariette--that's not information I've shared with a lot of people. I think I told you my father was transferred back to the United States when I was five. I started school in a new country--everything was strange, I was scared. The first day of kindergarten, the teacher asked each of us to go around in a circle and say our names. My turn came, and I saw all these little kids staring at me--and I introduced myself as Michel- -not Michael."
Sydney winced, and Vaughn laughed ruefully. "I learned my lesson. Once I convinced them that my parents hadn't given me a girl's name, I made sure I didn't make the same mistake a second time. I blended in after that--and that meant downplaying everything French. I wouldn't even speak French with my parents--not until we flew back each summer to Île Mariette--I always relented about halfway through the trans-Atlantic flight, and then they couldn't shut me up."
Sydney smiled, and Vaughn shifted his weight so that he could look directly into her eyes. "It's not quite like going undercover and becoming a double agent, but having a childhood split between two countries felt, at times, like leading a double life. Besides my family, there was absolutely no one I felt I could be truly open with--no one who saw me as I truly was--a mixture of both Michael and Michel."
Tears pricked at Sydney's eyelids. She reached up and touched his cheek, running her thumb across the dark stubble on his chin.
"I could have brought Alice to Île Mariette, but I didn't," Vaughn said in a low voice. "I wanted to share it with the woman I planned to spend the rest of my life with, and deep down I knew Alice wasn't that woman."
Sydney blinked, her heart pounding, almost forgetting to breathe. Vaughn gazed at her and continued on, a catch in his throat.
"If you asked me the precise moment I fell in love with you, I don't think I could tell you. I know it started the moment you walked into my office; it intensified the night you grabbed my hand at the pier. But do you know when I realized how deeply you were ingrained in my soul? When I told you I loved you in Taipei, and the words that came out of my mouth were in French."
Sydney's eyes reflected a turbulent mix of emotion as Vaughn went on, his voice rough.
"When Weiss outlined this op, I didn't hesitate even for a second before I suggested that we rendezvous here on Île Mariette. I told Weiss it was because we needed time to strategize, in a place remote enough not to raise the suspicions of your mother or SD-6. But the truth is, all I could think of was how wonderful it would be to be here with you, on the island where I spent the best summers of my life. Syd, I realized then, that the person I had been waiting to share Île Mariette with was you."
Sydney slowly brought his head down to hers, expressing with a kiss, everything she dare not put into words.
It was enough. Vaughn sank down beside her, cradling her head on his shoulder, and when he shifted his weight slightly, she nestled closer to him, fitting in to his side. She closed her eyes. Vaughn tightened his arm around her, and they slept, his cheek resting on her hair.
They were safe, but not for much longer.