Disclaimer; same as always
A/n If anyone has the season 2 box set, there's a small tribute to a deleted scene that some of you may appreciate. I think it was a crime it didn't get in so I put it my fic instead! Please review please please. Love dani xxx p.s sorry about the long paragraphs (especially to Kris!) THANKYOU ALL REVIEWERS!!!!!!!!xxx
A/n is this the end? I dunno! Tell me what you think.
Chapter 6
They were making love, slow, seductive and passionate. She bit his lip as he kissed her, his groans alone nearly sending her over the edge. His hand grazed her stomach constantly, the gentle action making her shiver. She suddenly felt something cool against the side of her face- her eyes flew open immediately realising what it was. Vaughn was holding a gun to her head; she choked quietly, fear and shock aiding in the breaking of her heart. Her eyes travelled to his temple, where cold metal rested uneasily-she was also holding a gun. She began to sob, disillusioned and not understanding. He kissed her one more time, whispering into her mouth.
"We'll be the death of each other. You know that right Syd?"
She woke abruptly, panting heavily. Sydney squeezed her eyes shut placing the palms of her hands over them. She ran her fingers through her hair, staring blankly into the darkness of her room. She had been shocked by the power of the dream, the memory of the way Vaughn touched her flooding back in a weak but cherished memory. She wondered what it meant but she was saddened by his words. Albeit fictitious, the implication of the experience was distressing. They could not be together again, not like in her nightmare anyway. Was it a nightmare? she questioned. The mixture of bliss and fear was ironic and painful, and even though she didn't believe in them, she was so frightened of it being some sort of sign. What if what Vaughn said was right? Would their love for each other break them; where they to perish under the strain of their incomprehensible relationship? Had Vaughn broken her heart beyond repair...
A pleasant sensation quelled her fears however. She blushed, immediately recognizing it as one of the same feelings she had had in her dream. She looked down to see Vaughn's hand lying seductively above the low band of her sweats. She blushed further, the feeling becoming mixed with anger that even though they had so much to work through, she was letting him touch her in an intimate manner. Confusion washed over as to why he was there; come to think of it why was she there? Last she remembered, she sat defeated at the pier, resting against his damp, fatigued but also warm body.
"Oh God he carried me!" she exclaimed quietly. She was flattered he still cared, and that his strength still remained after all this time; the Vaughn she fell in love with had no problem carrying her (she blushed even further after remembering where and why), and she contemplated just how much, like her, he had changed. Another adjustment that hadn't gone unnoticed was the fact she was now lying comfortably in her pyjamas. After acknowledging the idea he must of undressed her, she became surprisingly self-conscious, and her anger seemed to grow. In all their time together, he had never managed to make her feel any less than beautiful, but now she was petrified of him seeing her na-
"Oh my God!" she shrieked silently not wanting to wake the sleeping figure before her. Her hands flew to cover her chest where her palms met the hidden material of her bra. Relief swam over her refreshed but aching body. So, she thought dryly, chivalry is not dead. She was still irritated at his blatant disregard at what had happened that evening but was almost moved by his contradicting tender and caring actions.
He had always been a gentleman; it was another of his many virtues, and just one of the reasons she was sure many women were lining up around the block for him. It hit her quickly, the blow biting into her flesh, stinging her heart- she was one of those women, just one of his countless female admirers- a conspirator, secretly and selfishly praying for the collapse of his marriage. She bit her lip, her brow furrowed with sadness. She, like those numerous girls, would never hear him say that he loved her. He had implied it of course; he would have said it in North Korea if she'd let him, and perhaps on the pier earlier, but there was always an obstacle, always something in their way. The closest he'd come to confessing his love was in his classroom-but that had been said in the past tense, communicating how they were over, and how he had moved on. That, inevitably had made the situation worse, reminding her how life had gone on without her, and refreshing her memory on what had been lost. Her cheeks ached from the tears that cascaded down them. She removed his hand from her stomach, brushing his knuckles gently with the pad of her thumb. The soft ping of the elastic from her sweats and underwear made her jump, and the sensation of the touch of his fingertips remained silently and seductively on her lower abdomen. She threw the covers off herself and moved to the very edge of her bed careful not to wake the handsome entanglement of limbs beneath her. He shifted slightly at the absence of her warmth, and as she had almost reached her door she heard him groan her name; it made her tremble, reminding her of more pleasant circumstances. She closed the door behind her.
Not really knowing what she wanted to do and where exactly in her house she was headed to, Sydney slowly ambled through her hallway and into her living room. She didn't want to admit it to herself, but the place seemed different with him there. She told herself of course, that logically, she wasn't really alone for the first time since what felt like forever so it was bound to feel different. Whenever Weiss was there he brought a spark of light, happiness and warmth, filling the building with laughter and giggles, but she was usually too drunk to notice any real change in the ambience of the place. Sydney had realised a while back she was too scared to fill it with any personal things in case they too, like her were destroyed. She had lost so many items in her last home she didn't even want to think about it. There was a blanket, for example, that her grandmother had sent her. It was pink and cream, and similar to the many other sentimental items, were figuratively and literally irreplaceable. Her many yearbooks and photographs, while obtainable, would never be the same, the sentiment never to be present again. All her favourite clothes and perfumes, each specific to a certain place or memory, old birthday and Christmas cards, her engagement ring from Danny, all had been ruined or obliterated.
She collapsed onto her sofa rubbing her temples distractedly. The material of her bra irritated her tender body, so s unclasped it, half-heartedly discarding it on the floor not bothering to look where it landed. Her body screamed with dull pain as she leant back onto the soft material of her couch, letting herself mould to its shape in a feeble attempt to disappear. She sat in an angry daze for a couple of minutes, refusing to let herself forgive him. He hadn't hurt her, he'd nearly killed her, just as she was sure she had him. She often wondered what could have happened if she'd gotten out of her car that night she had gone to see him. Would they be together, or would he be with Lauren regardless of her premature return? Was Lauren really that much to him, had she been so imperative to his recovery? Or what if her father had had the intuition to notice the odd presence of the van at her funeral. Would they have saved her? One of the things Sydney couldn't understand the most was even if Vaughn had claimed to have loved her as much as he had, wouldn't he be more comforting to her since her painful return? Only since she came back she was positive what they had meant more to her than him, but even so, he must have felt substantial grief when she 'died'-they were lovers after all, and so if he knew what it was like to lose her, shouldn't he be sympathetic and reassuring, providing at least an objective shoulder to cry on?
It saddened her upon realising she hadn't stopped crying since leaving him in her room. Her face was raw from wiping the evidence of her strong emotions every few minutes. She coughed defiantly, letting herself recover from her tears. She got up, circling her couch coming face to face with Vaughn.
"Syd" he whispered, his voice deep and hoarse similar to how it was after they would to kiss.
"Why are you here Vaughn?" she asked, the neutral façade returning once more he noticed. "Really. Why? Is it for closure? Because I already told you; there is no way you are getting that from me. Or is it because you had nothing to do, and you could use something to play with?" she was becoming flustered, her anger evident as she gesticulated wildly. "And another thing! How did I get home, and do you think after everything you've put me through you have the right to undress me? I mean, as good as your intentions maybe Vaughn, you're making it harder to me" she rambled "And what were you doing just then?" she added, waving her finger at they area where she had initially seen him, the spot from where he had moved closer to her, she intentionally ignored how they had slept, and their intimate contact. "Were you watching me? I-I mean I know you used to when we were together, and perhaps before, in debriefs and stuff, or when I was sleeping, or-or...why did you stay here? Why didn't you go home? And why are you only in boxers?" her questions and ramblings were becoming almost sadly amusing to him as he studied her, frowning gently, his eyes seeming pained. As she spoke, her eyes darted around the room, stopping every now and then, trying to read his expression. "What would be said if people knew you were in my house, in the early hours of the morning, scantily clad, sleeping next to me, w-with, like-do you do these things deliberately to annoy me or hurt me, or cause me more grief? To, t-to emphasise the fact that I'm alone, with nothing but my pathetic memories and depressing thoughts while y- " her aggravated protests were suddenly cut short by his lips pressing firmly against hers, momentarily muffling her words until she gave in to his kiss. She opened her mouth slightly, mirroring his own faintly suprised actions and allowing the kiss to deepen. Their breathing was heavy yet quiet, the sensation of the soft but heated kiss awaking dormant emotions and hidden memories. His actions were gentle and passionate, the kiss tidy yet impulsive. He broke away reluctantly resting his head against hers. Their breathing was now louder and more frequent, and he swallowed a few times to gain control of himself.
"Syd? Shut up" he whispered in a husky but steady voice. He quickly studied her face, the brave and dramatic action causing insecurity and worry to bubble up inside him. Instinct had taken over- his move wasn't planned or intentional- but like everything in his life regarding the woman before him, was instructed by emotion instead of thought. She lifted her head to look at him, brushing her nose playfully and gently against his. She had completely forgotten what she was saying and couldn't even remember why she had been yelling at him. Sydney stepped back slightly, studying his features, immediately capturing his mouth with hers, taking him by complete surprise. He brushed his hand against her back, making her shiver like she always did under his touch. Her fingers slowly danced up to circle his neck, her arm resting as it had so many times before.
Her rational self surfaced in perfect synchronisation with his. Her hand came up in between them, pushing him away gently as he neatly broke off the kiss.
"Vaughn no, we-"she whispered, her voice thick with emotion and stimulation. She was interrupted by his own gravely tone
"Syd, you asked me why I came here. I want to tell you." He took her hand, leading her to the couch. As she sat down he started pacing, running his hands through his hair; its newly tousled appearance would have made her smile if his contrasting actions weren't frightening her as much as they were.
"Vaughn?" she questioned anxiously, her voice dripping with trepidation
"Lauren's pregnant" he blurted out clumsily. He watched as her expression fall and her delicate face was painted with the familiar look of misery. A small sob-like cough came tumbling out of her mouth, the lips he had been caressing with his own begging to tremble.
"Y-you...I, why are you, I don't unders- y-" her words were angry and pained and she began to cry before he could quell her fears and her estimation of him plummeted further.
"Syd," he continued, refusing to acknowledge her tears in fear of prompting his own. "I-I'm not toying with you in some sick game- please let me speak before I can break you heart all over again" he tucked he hair behind her ear seconds before she did, the accidental prediction caused their hands to clash. Not allowing her to pull away from his touch he took her hand is his own placing them in her lap. He was kneeling before her "I never ever meant to hurt you. You have to know that. Since I met you, it has been my goal in life to prevent pain for you wherever possible, and it kills me every time I realise, I cause your sadness, I'm the cause of all your troubles; I am the one that has ruined your life" he choked out. She shook her head in gentle protest at his words, a practically inaudible 'no' escaping. He had made her life so much better, and their relationship was bittersweet, as for every rose was a thorn, and for every happy journey, a cruel twist of irony. "Lauren and I- we haven't been together for two months. It is not physically possible for her to be carrying my child. L-Lauren is having an affair." It was the first time he said it out loud. He had expected his heart to break a little, but it seemed to feel as if it had mended slightly. I feel terrible because...I-I needed- I wanted to be with you for so, so long, but I couldn't leave Lauren, I-just-I..." his sentence remained unfinished, for a second she admired his loyalty to his wife, but cursed it also.
"You needed it to be for a legitimate reason, you refused to leave her for another woman. You refused to leave her for me Vaughn. I'm second best. So what now? You're marriage has failed so now you're willing to give us a go. How dare you assume I would want to play second fiddle to Lauren!" she said standing up "t-that you can just come here an-" she didn't really know what to say. Spite and fury took over. "So what Vaughn?" She screamed "You're wife's fucking someone else so you thought 'hey yeah why not'?!" they both suddenly froze at the impact and aggression of her words, they were breathing heavily not knowing what to say or do. The tears on their cheeks seemed to crystallise momentarily, stopping their angry journeys. He looked her at through livid and hurt eyes, evidence of disappointment etched into his face. She lowered her head defeated and exhausted, covering her aggrieved face with her hand. She began to sob, not understanding how they had become so unrecognisable and how she had become so aggressive towards the one she loved the most. He stood frozen to the spot, his tears bravely continuing. Her sobs became more violent, yet after being perfected over time, remained silent.
Sydney felt her body beginning to fall, beaten and overwhelmed by her emotions. Vaughn, upon almost foreseeing this, was there to catch her lifeless body. He knelt underneath the weary form of his love, cradling her as she hid herself against his slender body. The two shook in a unique blend of grief and joy; grief, from the pain received and to come, and joy at the realisation of a second chance, a fresh start, a new beginning.
Getting all teary eyed by the decrease in reviews dudes!