Author's Note: Hey! Thanks for the reviews, they were perty funny. I have
so much fun reading them. But anyways, can I say "I told you so" or "I told
you so"? I said that I would get chapter 19 up soon and oh! Look...here it
is.....wow.....
Oh, and I just wanted to say that yes of course, criticism is openly welcome, it's just that I'm so paranoid with my grammatical errors now, lol. DON'T FREAK OUT, JAYME. It's just how I am because I just should have known "then" and "than". Blah blah blah.
Well....i think things are moving along pretty well.
ALIAS STARTS THIS SUNDAY! WHOO! Oh, you guys want to hear a story? Yes? Good. Here it goes:
Ok, well I was in AP World History today and that class is cool cuz it's pretty small and everybody's really close and everything so the first thing I said when I walked into the room was "WHO'S GOING TO WATCH ALIAS THIS SUNDAY?" and the girl that sits next to me screams "ME!!!" and I'm all proud of her and this other girl is being a poo and says that she's never seen the show which insults me....but anyways, so I'm talking to the girl who IS going to watch Alias this Sunday and she's talking about how cute Sark is while I'm just stressing on Vaughn and his freakin' beautiful eyes. So then, because I feel like it, I turn around and ask the guy sitting behind me: "Are YOU going to watch Alias?" And you know what he says that just makes me so happy?
"Sunday, 9 o'clock, ABC."
Heh.
I'll take that as a yes.
Chap.19- Coming Home To You
Three hours later, Vaughn pulled into his garage and walked into the house barefooted. The wood beneath his foot was smooth and cooling, relaxing the muscles.
"Michael?" Lauren called out from the direction of the bedroom.
"Yea..." He tiredly answered her.
She ran out to him and kissed him, noting his tired face and forlorn expression.
"Are you okay?"
He nodded and after refusing dinner, he walked to the direction of the bedroom and dropped the suitcase in the closet to unpack later and fell onto the bed. His muscles seemed to thank him for allowing them to do what he had wanted to do all day, sleep. But even as he slept, his mind would drift in and out of consciousness, remembering the weight of Sydney's head on his shoulder and the feeling of her smooth hair on his cheek. Tidbits of Vaughn's two hour conversation of Gerard's endless questioning floated in and out of the conversation between him and his mother.
"Michael..." a soft voice said. A hand touched his shoulder and shook him softly. "Michael..." the voice repeated.
Groggily, he opened his eyes. Blond hair and blue eyes swam into view. As the image focused, he came to realize that it was Lauren.
"Yea?" He asked, his tongue wetting his cracked lips.
"Why don't you change? You'll sleep better."
Slowly, he forced himself up from the bed where his body had already made a mold into the mattress. Shivering slightly at the sudden temperature change, he placed his palm where his body had been and felt the warm spot, wishing to lie back down again. But he stood up and walked to the bathroom, changing, brushing his teeth and falling back into the bed. The mold and the heat were gone, but he didn't care. As they had gone away together, they would come back together too.
Sydney had arrived home hours earlier than Vaughn. As soon as Kendall and Jack had left the conference room, she had snuck back in and gotten her suitcase. Packing up as quickly as she could to avoid seeing Kendall before she left, she had driven home at the same speed. Scott had still been at the hospital, but she had left a message on his beeper asking him to pick up dinner on the way home since she was too tired to cook and, no, he could not barbecue, although judging from the contents in the trashcan, she was suspicious that he had.
She plopped onto the couch and after flipping through the first half of the television channels; she turned it off and walked upstairs to her room. Looking around the house for something to do, and not finding any, she walked back downstairs to her car to retrieve her once-again forgotten suitcase to unpack. Sitting down on the carpet of the upstairs master bedroom, she started to pull articles of clothing out of the bag. Large, but strangely familiar t-shirts fell out, followed by socks, athletic shorts, and pants. Frowning, she dumped the whole suitcase over and when pairs of boxers fell to the ground, she sighed in frustration at the coincidental occurrences that kept happening between herself and Vaughn.
She started to pack everything away slowly, and neatly until she suddenly became embarrassed handling his boxers. Quickly, she stuffed everything into the suitcase. After a few tugs and pushes, the suitcase looked as it once had. Satisfied, Sydney zipped the suitcase shut and leaned it against the doorway.
It was then when she realized that the ring finger of her left hand was still bare. Walking quickly downstairs, she dug through the contents of her purse and backpack without any success in finding them. She felt the pockets of her jacket and the pants she had worn. Climbing the stairs again, she walked back to her room and felt around Vaughn's suitcase, wondering if he would be in the same situation as her. Her fingers felt a cool, circlet of gold and she stared at it as she took it out, weighing it on her palm.
A small voice deep within her urged her to throw it out the window. With your strength, the voice said, they'll never be able to find it. But she shook her head and closed her fingers tightly over the ring, and eventually sliding it back into the suitcase when it had been warmed by her body heat. Opening her hand again, she saw the deep ridge and outline that the ring had created. A mold and heat. They always go together.
The garage door beneath the master bedroom groaned shut and the floor shook slightly under Sydney's feat. Using the luggage as support, she stood and winced at the pain in her knees caused by bending for such a long time. She had just descended down the stairs when Scott walked into the entry room and enveloped her in a tight embrace. Sydney rested her head against his chest and listened to the familiar beat of the steady heart, remembering vividly her tears with Vaughn in France.
"I missed you, Sydney." Scott murmured into her hair and kissed the top of her head.
"I missed you too."
"How was your trip?" He asked, leading her by the hand to the kitchen table where he had set the multiple containers of take-out.
"Good...mmm...Italian. Thank you, honey." Sydney responded, opening the containers and setting them around the table.
"No problem."
"How's the hospital?" Sydney asked, sitting down and cutting her chicken into bite-sized pieces.
"Busy...as usual. It amazes me the different ways people can get hurt."
"Like how?" Sydney asked, curiously and eagerly. She had always enjoyed hearing about Scott's work, since she couldn't talk about her own.
Scott smiled and spent the rest of dinner narrating the day's events and patients to Sydney. This was why he looked forward to coming home everyday. It's the person you come home to.
Jack had given Sydney, Vaughn, Mark, Ana, and James two days off work mostly as an apology. Later that day, in which the conference had taken place, Jack had received word of the mass murder of the inhabitants of the safe house and the ally that had run it as well as his family. More innocent people had died. Yes, they had died with valor and for their country, but a life was a life. No matter how they had lost it, they were still dead, and there was nothing anybody could do to bring them back.
Soon, without the conscious realization of any of them, forty-eight hours had passed. Grumbling, Vaughn rolled out of bed and shuffled toward the direction of the bathroom. He splashed water on his face and wiping his face dry, he stared into his reflection. He hadn't changed much physically in the past seven years, but as he looked hard, he could sense his own emotional weariness and dread.
Sydney had decided to walk the last mile as a cool down after her jog in the park. She had gotten an earlier start today, after being woken up from her sleep by a wave of nausea. She had looked up from the toilet bowl to the clock and decided to get a run in earlier instead of another half hour of sleep.
When she was at the second to the last stop sign, she could see her house, its form breaking the denseness of the gloomy, gray, fog that was so common in the early mornings. She started in a slow jog and gradually started to build up speed, eventually breaking in a fast-paced run. Sydney had started to walk up the stairs to her front door when she looked over to the house next to theirs and saw the front door opening.
Her heart skipped a beat and her mind whirled in confusion, not knowing whether or not to hope to see Vaughn or Lauren step out of the door.
Oh, and I just wanted to say that yes of course, criticism is openly welcome, it's just that I'm so paranoid with my grammatical errors now, lol. DON'T FREAK OUT, JAYME. It's just how I am because I just should have known "then" and "than". Blah blah blah.
Well....i think things are moving along pretty well.
ALIAS STARTS THIS SUNDAY! WHOO! Oh, you guys want to hear a story? Yes? Good. Here it goes:
Ok, well I was in AP World History today and that class is cool cuz it's pretty small and everybody's really close and everything so the first thing I said when I walked into the room was "WHO'S GOING TO WATCH ALIAS THIS SUNDAY?" and the girl that sits next to me screams "ME!!!" and I'm all proud of her and this other girl is being a poo and says that she's never seen the show which insults me....but anyways, so I'm talking to the girl who IS going to watch Alias this Sunday and she's talking about how cute Sark is while I'm just stressing on Vaughn and his freakin' beautiful eyes. So then, because I feel like it, I turn around and ask the guy sitting behind me: "Are YOU going to watch Alias?" And you know what he says that just makes me so happy?
"Sunday, 9 o'clock, ABC."
Heh.
I'll take that as a yes.
Chap.19- Coming Home To You
Three hours later, Vaughn pulled into his garage and walked into the house barefooted. The wood beneath his foot was smooth and cooling, relaxing the muscles.
"Michael?" Lauren called out from the direction of the bedroom.
"Yea..." He tiredly answered her.
She ran out to him and kissed him, noting his tired face and forlorn expression.
"Are you okay?"
He nodded and after refusing dinner, he walked to the direction of the bedroom and dropped the suitcase in the closet to unpack later and fell onto the bed. His muscles seemed to thank him for allowing them to do what he had wanted to do all day, sleep. But even as he slept, his mind would drift in and out of consciousness, remembering the weight of Sydney's head on his shoulder and the feeling of her smooth hair on his cheek. Tidbits of Vaughn's two hour conversation of Gerard's endless questioning floated in and out of the conversation between him and his mother.
"Michael..." a soft voice said. A hand touched his shoulder and shook him softly. "Michael..." the voice repeated.
Groggily, he opened his eyes. Blond hair and blue eyes swam into view. As the image focused, he came to realize that it was Lauren.
"Yea?" He asked, his tongue wetting his cracked lips.
"Why don't you change? You'll sleep better."
Slowly, he forced himself up from the bed where his body had already made a mold into the mattress. Shivering slightly at the sudden temperature change, he placed his palm where his body had been and felt the warm spot, wishing to lie back down again. But he stood up and walked to the bathroom, changing, brushing his teeth and falling back into the bed. The mold and the heat were gone, but he didn't care. As they had gone away together, they would come back together too.
Sydney had arrived home hours earlier than Vaughn. As soon as Kendall and Jack had left the conference room, she had snuck back in and gotten her suitcase. Packing up as quickly as she could to avoid seeing Kendall before she left, she had driven home at the same speed. Scott had still been at the hospital, but she had left a message on his beeper asking him to pick up dinner on the way home since she was too tired to cook and, no, he could not barbecue, although judging from the contents in the trashcan, she was suspicious that he had.
She plopped onto the couch and after flipping through the first half of the television channels; she turned it off and walked upstairs to her room. Looking around the house for something to do, and not finding any, she walked back downstairs to her car to retrieve her once-again forgotten suitcase to unpack. Sitting down on the carpet of the upstairs master bedroom, she started to pull articles of clothing out of the bag. Large, but strangely familiar t-shirts fell out, followed by socks, athletic shorts, and pants. Frowning, she dumped the whole suitcase over and when pairs of boxers fell to the ground, she sighed in frustration at the coincidental occurrences that kept happening between herself and Vaughn.
She started to pack everything away slowly, and neatly until she suddenly became embarrassed handling his boxers. Quickly, she stuffed everything into the suitcase. After a few tugs and pushes, the suitcase looked as it once had. Satisfied, Sydney zipped the suitcase shut and leaned it against the doorway.
It was then when she realized that the ring finger of her left hand was still bare. Walking quickly downstairs, she dug through the contents of her purse and backpack without any success in finding them. She felt the pockets of her jacket and the pants she had worn. Climbing the stairs again, she walked back to her room and felt around Vaughn's suitcase, wondering if he would be in the same situation as her. Her fingers felt a cool, circlet of gold and she stared at it as she took it out, weighing it on her palm.
A small voice deep within her urged her to throw it out the window. With your strength, the voice said, they'll never be able to find it. But she shook her head and closed her fingers tightly over the ring, and eventually sliding it back into the suitcase when it had been warmed by her body heat. Opening her hand again, she saw the deep ridge and outline that the ring had created. A mold and heat. They always go together.
The garage door beneath the master bedroom groaned shut and the floor shook slightly under Sydney's feat. Using the luggage as support, she stood and winced at the pain in her knees caused by bending for such a long time. She had just descended down the stairs when Scott walked into the entry room and enveloped her in a tight embrace. Sydney rested her head against his chest and listened to the familiar beat of the steady heart, remembering vividly her tears with Vaughn in France.
"I missed you, Sydney." Scott murmured into her hair and kissed the top of her head.
"I missed you too."
"How was your trip?" He asked, leading her by the hand to the kitchen table where he had set the multiple containers of take-out.
"Good...mmm...Italian. Thank you, honey." Sydney responded, opening the containers and setting them around the table.
"No problem."
"How's the hospital?" Sydney asked, sitting down and cutting her chicken into bite-sized pieces.
"Busy...as usual. It amazes me the different ways people can get hurt."
"Like how?" Sydney asked, curiously and eagerly. She had always enjoyed hearing about Scott's work, since she couldn't talk about her own.
Scott smiled and spent the rest of dinner narrating the day's events and patients to Sydney. This was why he looked forward to coming home everyday. It's the person you come home to.
Jack had given Sydney, Vaughn, Mark, Ana, and James two days off work mostly as an apology. Later that day, in which the conference had taken place, Jack had received word of the mass murder of the inhabitants of the safe house and the ally that had run it as well as his family. More innocent people had died. Yes, they had died with valor and for their country, but a life was a life. No matter how they had lost it, they were still dead, and there was nothing anybody could do to bring them back.
Soon, without the conscious realization of any of them, forty-eight hours had passed. Grumbling, Vaughn rolled out of bed and shuffled toward the direction of the bathroom. He splashed water on his face and wiping his face dry, he stared into his reflection. He hadn't changed much physically in the past seven years, but as he looked hard, he could sense his own emotional weariness and dread.
Sydney had decided to walk the last mile as a cool down after her jog in the park. She had gotten an earlier start today, after being woken up from her sleep by a wave of nausea. She had looked up from the toilet bowl to the clock and decided to get a run in earlier instead of another half hour of sleep.
When she was at the second to the last stop sign, she could see her house, its form breaking the denseness of the gloomy, gray, fog that was so common in the early mornings. She started in a slow jog and gradually started to build up speed, eventually breaking in a fast-paced run. Sydney had started to walk up the stairs to her front door when she looked over to the house next to theirs and saw the front door opening.
Her heart skipped a beat and her mind whirled in confusion, not knowing whether or not to hope to see Vaughn or Lauren step out of the door.