Rhapsody
~~~
Wow! Thanks for all the great reviews, everyone! I'm going to try to be good through this whole story; since you're all nice enough to respond, the least I can do is reply…
Caz: hopefully this will keep the angry reviewers off my back. ;)
vaughnandsydney: I agree. We could definitely use some fluff with this season. And you're right… there will eventually be angst here too…
angelmeg: Hope your night at work went well. Prepare for more sugar… ;)
amy: Thanks! I'm glad you like it.
neptunestar: Aww, thanks… I hope you like this part, too…
Natalie: Don't worry, it shouldn't be an evil plot… There's still way too much fluff to write into this before anything else happens…
Brynne: Wow… You don't like S/V stories? I'm honored! And thank goodness for those hot Cheetos (hopefully these next few chapters won't kill you)… Thanks!
ProvidenceSea: Your wish is my command. :)
Bridget: Thanks for responding! I'm glad you like both stories.
Raina: Smiles are good. :) I don't have any author alerts, but my review alerts have been screwy. I got an email for one like three days after it had been posted…
Liz: Don't melt too much! Then you won't be able to read! ;) Thanks for reviewing.
valley-girl2: Thanks for taking the time to respond. I hope everything's okay in your family :( … And here's some more edited in, because like with lightning bug's review, it's only just letting me see the new one… Okay, you said that I took all the words so there weren't enough for you… But you have seriously stolen whatever was left over. I think I'll just have to go with your old standby: You. Rock… Thanks!
Kiki: Here you go! ;)
Sarah9: There shouldn't be anything as too sweet, but sometimes… I'm glad you liked the first chapter of this, and the other story, as well. Thanks!
lightning bug: Sorry this is late. Apparently your review has been there for days, but it's only just letting me see it now… Here are more baby antics coming your way... ;)
~~~
Chapter 2: Overwhelming
Soft stringed notes, chords plucked from a distant piano's ivory keys, penetrating woodwinds, and the hum of brasses tumbling through daybreak. A symphony of crickets and birdsong, the wind breathing around him, seeming to come from everywhere at once, rustling the long grass in al directions. A steady, rhythmic thumping keeping time for the concerto: the beating of a heart.
The sun rose in the sky, and only then did he realize that everything had been black and white and shades of gray before. Blues and reds and greens and yellows whirling around him in the wind, their strength and brilliance fading the monotonous gray out of existence as they found their proper places, just the right balance and hue.
Tints of green swam under his feet, whispering over and clinging to the grass. Midnight blue hanging over his head, as textured as velvet, speckled with glimmers of silver and gold, the dark night sky an eerily beautiful contrast to the dazzling sunlight that had settled around him, warming him with its sweet embrace.
Not even the wind could chill him as it shifted, coming impossibly from below, seeming to issue forth from the rainbow of flowers that had appeared around him, winking their different tints through the sweet-smelling grass.
When he looked down, tried to ponder this strange phenomenon, wonder how it could be possible for the wind to blow in that way, he found a baby in his arms. An adorably, exquisitely perfect child with deep chocolate eyes, ears that stuck out ever so slightly, and a dimpled smile that he barely had a moment to marvel over before the tiny child suddenly transformed before his eyes, in his arms: the diaper now a sweet pink jumper, the hair darker and curling softly at her shoulders, the still small fingers reaching up to his face, planting themselves on his cheeks and pulling him closer. A pure, melodious murmur issuing forth from perfect, pink lips…
"Daddy."
Repeated around him over and over, an ever-resounding echo singing in his ears. Two children in the meadow, now, and three, and four… Little boys with sandy hair and chiseled features, girls with sweet dimples and specks of green sparkling through their brown eyes…
The child in his arms hoisted herself upwards, her fingers tapping against him, demanding his attention. A delicious, almost sly smile curling her lips as she placed them against his in a sticky kiss. He ran his fingers softly through her hair when she pulled back, surprised to find the slight curl gone, the strands longer, thicker; the eyes almost startlingly familiar this time. He gazed into them questioningly, all confusion disappearing when he saw the woman he now held in his arms, when she pressed her lips up against his own.
The sun silently snapped out, the murmuring children tiptoeing away so that only the two of them remained, draped in the comfortably dim, shadow-filled light that was meant for the two of them alone. Her lips lifelike, persistent, the sensations so vivid, so real that…
Vaughn was stirred from sleep with a long, lazy kiss, gladly let Sydney pull him from one dream into another, responding eagerly and carefully pulling her closer as soon as he halfway understood what was going on.
"Syd…"
It was half mumbled, half groaned; a sorry attempt at speech, his mind still half asleep, his body tingling as she pulled away, before things could begin to get out of hand, before he had even had a quarter of a chance to savor her sweet flavor.
And only then did he bother to halfway open his eyes, instantly noticing the almost scared glint in her own, immediately bringing one hand to her cheek, the other brushing against her stomach where their child slept.
"Syd?" A question this time, framing all those he was too afraid to ask.
"Vaughn…"
A hint of a smile played on her lips, laced with anxiety and a sudden inexplicable shyness, as she put her hand over his own where it rested against her stomach. She was probably the only woman who would ever wake a man the way she had woken him and then murmur what she did next.
"It's time."
Her two words couldn't have been any more foreign to his ears if they had been spoken in Afrikaans, Swedish, or Taiwanese; any more absurd-sounding if they had alluded to the presence of little green men on the moon, Eric actually declining any sort of pastry, or Vaughn himself even considering kissing, marrying, loving any other woman but her…
His eyes snapped open completely, green seeking out brown and settling there, instantly detecting the tinge of razor-like fear cutting through all other emotions, knew that his own eyes must have reflected hers, because…
"What?"
It was all his brain came up with when he reached up, desperately grabbing for any letters, words or sounds to let her know that he heard her. How could it be time already? Hadn't she just told him yesterday…?
It had seemed so incredible then, so amazing. It still was, but in the surprise of those first few moments… They hadn't been able to keep their hands off each other, making love into the wee hours of the morning, their hunger insatiable, only exhaustion capable of bringing an end to their activities…
It had to have only been yesterday… or maybe the day before, because Vaughn could remember every single event of that night and the next morning perfectly, had memorized the glimmer in her eyes, the feel of her skin, her exceedingly brilliant smile…
He had gotten up relatively early that morning, considering what time it had been when they had finally closed their eyes. And even though it had been nearly painful to leave Sydney's side, he had whispered a kiss against her forehead and carefully disentangled himself from the sheets and her limbs, leaving the sanctuary of their bed and quickly showering and dressing.
He had left the apartment quietly, quickly scribbling Sydney a note not to worry in case she woke before he had come back. But upon his return just under an hour later, everything had been exactly the same as he had left it. His errand had been quick and simple; by then even the clerk had known exactly what he had wanted, had practically had it waiting for him when he had arrived.
Tiptoeing into the bedroom, he had gingerly sat on the edge of the bed, knowing without a doubt how tired Sydney had been and not wanting to wake her, the fact that she hadn't stirred when he had taken her hand proof of it. Reaching into his pocket, he had carefully slipped the slender golden band onto her finger, watching as the metal and diamonds winked in the few rays of sunlight peeking in through the curtains.
He had been completely mesmerized, barely resisting the urge to kiss her, still unsure how he had managed it at that moment and every one since then. She had sighed in her sleep, murmuring something unintelligible and reaching out for him, trying to snuggle closer to where he should have been, her forehead furrowing slightly when she had realized he wasn't there.
Wanting more than anything to restore the soft smile to her sleeping face, he had taken off his shoes and slipped back into bed next to her, linking his right hand with her left, loving how the cool metal had felt against his fingers; had been content to lay by her side forever and simply watch her, waiting for her eyes to open.
It hadn't happened the way he had thought it would, her eyes hadn't softly fluttered open and smiled into his. Instead, she had snapped awake only a few moments after he had once again wrapped his arms around her, jumping from his grasp and all but flying into the bathroom. If either of them had been aware that this was to continue as their morning routine for the next few weeks, perhaps it would have shaken the foundation of their perfect world, added even one tiny crack for doubt and hesitation to sneak through…
But had been by her side in a minute, and before this thought could have wormed its way through the sweet French Vaughn had been whispering in her ear even moments later as she had brushed her teeth, her eyes had run lazily from the mirror, to the sink, to where her left hand had rested on the edge of the bathroom counter.
Nearly choking on the foaming toothpaste, Sydney had quickly spat it out, turning in his arms and finding his lips on her own, transforming what would have been a surprised, "Vaughn!" into a strangled moan. She had still had her toothbrush in her hand, had been fumbling behind her to put it on the counter; a clatter telling him that she had given up trying to place it and had thrown it against the hard tile, her hands coming up to tangle in his hair.
Vaughn had been unwilling to give her up, let her breathe, but she had eventually turned away. He had been unable to concede so easily, letting his lips linger on the corner of her mouth as she had whispered, "Vaughn… I thought you said…"
His words had vibrated against her cheek as he had spoken, his lips still pressed against her skin. "I went out this morning… I just couldn't wait."
"I didn't even hear you leave."
He had chuckled, adoring how her smile had grown impossibly larger at the sound of it, running his fingertips lightly along her cheekbones. "You were out cold."
Turning her gaze away from the ring on her finger to smile into his eyes, her own glazing over as the memories from the night before had flashed behind them, projecting themselves into his mind as well... "Well…"
"Yeah…" Vaughn had breathed in response, cutting her off both with that and his mouth, which he had suddenly found to be on her own, hadn't known how it had gotten there.
"Vaughn, thank you…" Sydney had sighed, resting her forehead against his own. He knew she had been fumbling to find the words, that she hadn't understood that none were needed, that the look on her face when she had seen it, her gorgeous smile, had been enough… "It's gorgeous… Really... Perfect..."
"Not half as…"
Sydney had brought her fingers to his lips to silence him. It had probably been a good thing, because he had still been searching for just the right word to incorporate gorgeous and perfect and amazing and everything else that she was. He was always speechless when it came to her.
"Michael… I love you… so much…"
And that right there had been more than perfect. He had had nothing, no words that could have ever responded to that, could have searched until the end of time and still wouldn't have found them. But they hadn't needed words. Not when eyes and lips and hands had spoken so much better…
Vaughn was the kind of guy who could barely remember what he had had for breakfast once lunchtime rolled around, even he was willing to admit to that. If he could remember something that well, see the footage play out in his mind, better than any movie because the sounds, tastes, and sensations were still there, still so stunning, so genuine…
It had to have been only yesterday. A few days ago, maybe, but…
Something brushed against his fingers. Sydney's hand, he realized as he laced her fingers instinctively with his own, squeezing them lightly. Resisting the urge to pinch himself, to make sure this wasn't all a dream.
Her hand was shaking, or maybe it was his own. He didn't know for sure, but it didn't matter. More likely than not, it was both of them, the trembling of one transferring to the other automatically, both so nervous, so giddily happy. Bringing their joined hands out from the warmth beneath the covers, he held them to his mouth, his lips resting on her skin instantly, knowing just where it interlaced with his own.
"It's time," Sydney repeated, her murmuring voice tiptoeing to his ears, their hands still intertwined, the fingers on his other hand brushing softly against her stomach.
This was real…
He had danced his fingertips along that same surface every night since she had told him. Every night for months, never missing one as long as he was by her side, calling her those few nights he had been sent away on missions, asking her to hold the phone to her belly so he could whisper their baby his goodnight. It had become their bedtime ritual, one he almost hated to have to do away with so soon. But he knew they would find others to replace it, others that would be so much better because he would be able to hold their child in his arms…
He would wait until she was already laying down, already resting her head on his pillow, before crawling into bed beside her, worshipping the radiant smile this had never failed to bring to her face. Lifting her shirt and pressing his lips to the soft skin he found there, the silence between the kisses had filled with his whispering voice. The first time, he hadn't even known what he had said, hadn't realized until Sydney had told him that it was the French lullaby he had used to soothe Ilya to sleep, the very same one he had promised, without words, to sing to their children someday.
One night, he had stopped in the middle of the lullaby, in the middle of a lyric, a phrase, a word. His lips millimeters from Sydney's skin and freezing there, his heart beating wildly, air choking in his lungs as he suddenly forgot how to breathe.
Sydney's eyes had been anxious at first, questioning, when she had intercepted his gaze, tilting his chin upward with a gently placed finger. But the moment she had seen his face, she had known, laying her hand on his so that together they could feel the tiny bulge, barely more than a slight curve on her usually toned stomach, but so much more than that… their child.
A tear had found its way down her cheek, and without moving his hand, he had leaned forward to kiss it away, finding her lips instead and letting his own linger there. And there had been nothing more sweet than that moment, nothing more full of emotion than that kiss had been. So deliriously slow and burning and loving that it hadn't even taken a second to render him nearly unconscious.
Neither of them could have pinpointed the exact moment when it had begun to escalate to something more. Neither had even realized that this had transformed into a kiss that couldn't have been shared out on a street corner or in even in daylight, until he had felt his shirt coming over his head, had found his hands in the process of ridding Sydney of her own, their fingers once again lacing and finding their place on her stomach without any material to hinder them.
And with anyone else, the rampant passion and uncontrollable lust that had suddenly broken through the surface would have been considered corruption in a kiss that had started out so tender and gentle.
Anyone but the two of them.
Because nothing had been more sweet, more natural than that slow, smoldering escalation; passion and love hand in hand, one lifting the other to reach new heights, blending, intermingling until the two sensations were indistinguishable, had become one vibrant explosion of color and flavor and fire and beauty.
Any separations for air or the removal of clothing had been slight, Vaughn pulling her back to him immediately, somehow always finding a way to bring her closer than before. Eventually, slowly, naturally, their hands had crept away from her stomach, humming over new patches of skin.
The rest of the lullaby had had to wait…
That seemed even closer than yesterday, only hours ago, perhaps. And it seemed like it had been such a short time ago: minutes, seconds, fractions of them, since he had last pressed his lips against her expanding stomach, murmured the ending lyrics and tilted his face up to meet her waiting eyes. His words finding their way to her in the darkness the two of them loved so much…
"Seulement quelques semaines de plus..."
But wait…
Slowly, slowly, slowly, realization dawned, fought its way through the dangerous, mind-numbing haze of sleep and amazement. In reality, it must only have been a few seconds, a few short moments for it all to flash through his mind. They had only gone to sleep a few hours ago. And it hadn't been that long since…
"Vaughn?"
Sydney had detected the change in his eyes, the cloudy film that anxiety had pulled down over them; he could tell the instant he looked up and saw his own eyes mirrored in hers. Even under the pressure of darkness, he could see her, would have noticed even if he had suddenly been struck blind, lost every memory of every sensation except what it felt like to love her, to be in love with her.
Anxiety had been tiptoeing through her deep orbs when she had woken him; he had seen it playing there like a child sneaking through the bushes to the neighbor's swing set without asking for permission. But it had been overpowered by elation, a shock of happiness mixed with disbelief and the still all-powerful amazement, quickly pulling naughty little anxiety pouting back to its own yard.
That sparkle of happiness was gone now, the fear had latched on to its shins with tiny, pointed teeth, refusing to relinquish its hold and bringing what had once been the sovereign of her eyes, the king of playground of her emotions, tumbling to the ground, howling and scrambling to shake the little monsters of apprehension off its stinging legs.
Vaughn wanted more than anything to soothe her, but couldn't; found the same little demons nibbling at his ankles, gnawing his kneecaps. Why had something so seemingly small and normal suddenly sprung to monstrous proportions? How had real life become so much more dangerous and difficult than any mission?
"Syd…"
He leaned toward her, nipping softly at her lips in a mostly failed effort at reassurance, trying to convince himself that what he saw glimmering on her lower eyelids, catching in her lashes, were tears of joy. He gently disengaged his hand from hers before jumping out of bed, tripping as his legs tangled in the sheets and just barely saving himself from falling flat on his face.
"Syd, it's too soon."
"I know," she whispered, so quietly that he felt her voice more than heard it, that if he hadn't been looking at her, hadn't known her as well as he did, he might not have known she had spoken at all.
Regret washed over him the instant she spoke, the moment he caught sight of the shadow of snarling fear looming over her. Well-fed on small insecurities, its shape had mutated from a mere playground bully into something life-threatening, jaws snapping, waiting a few seconds longer for when it could sink its already bloodstained teeth into her flesh and relentlessly suck the life from within her, licking her clean of every last drop, every last chance at happiness.
Vaughn wanted desperately to shake that shadow away, kill it, dissolve it, send it hurtling from the room and out the window, melding into the cool darkness of the night air. But whatever words he might have uttered to frighten it away clumped in his throat, threatening to choke him if he even dared to open his mouth, not surrendering no matter how hard he fought against them.
Sydney sat up suddenly, maneuvering awkwardly to get out of bed, and he broke free from the ice that seemed to have frozen him in place and scrambled forward to help her. Even with the added weight of the baby, she was still so light, and he easily lifted her out of bed and placed her gently on her feet, whispering a kiss against her forehead in an effort at something resembling reassurance. Not sure if it had worked at all as the shadow grew larger, mingled with that of doubt and uncertainty, loomed over them both.
He started to move away from her to grab some clothes out of the dresser, but her hand on his wrist held him fast, pulled him back towards her. Vaughn stood like a statue before her, knowing he had to talk, had to think of something, anything that would make this better; didn't understand where all the words, all the bliss, all the excitement had gone.
He lifted his gaze to find her eyes a question, complete with the proper inflection and punctuation, her words almost unnecessary. But she offered them anyway, needed him to answer, to tell her that everything was going to be okay, that this was going to be the happiest day of their lives, that he would protect her from anything, that…
"But," Sydney murmured, that single word brushing the fangs of fear away from her neck, her question serving as the garlic that was needed to ward off its vampiric silhouette for a few moments longer, to send it careening across the room in agony. "Not too soon… right?"
Too soon… too soon… too soon…?
To a myriad of other subjects, this inquiry had a definite negative answer. …too soon to be completely head over heels in love? …too soon to need her more than air? …too soon to ask her to be his forever? …too soon to plan the rest of their lives?
But with this, he wasn't so sure.
Numbers flew through his brain at an alarming pace as he attempted the suddenly amazingly difficult task of mental math...
Ten and four and take away six and carry the one and…
Hurtling back in time and finding himself at his desk in third grade, behind little Eva; her blonde pigtails temptingly close to his outstretched fingers. He was so close, only a few more inches to victory, to the high-pitched shriek that was sure to be his medal of honor, to raise him in the esteem of all the other little boys in the classroom.
The sudden crack of a ruler vibrating his desk, the epicenter of this miniature earthquake frighteningly close to his other hand. Sister Perpetua's nasally voice demanding the answer to a drawn out mathematics problem. Something about apples and pigs and a boy named Oliver; something that had way too much to take away and add on and put together and think about, seemed much too difficult for his little brain to determine.
And he stood, voice trembling as he fumbled his way through the numbers, his classmates tittering with laughter as he failed miserably, wanted to sink under his desk and through the floor, away from the classroom forever. Jade eyes flashing with frustration and anger, the color rising in his little cheeks as a hot tear escaped from its eyelid-prison and slid down the tip of his nose, earning him the nickname Cry Baby for the rest of that year and still into those that followed…
Now those same numbers were just as out of reach, tucked away somewhere in the dark, damp recesses of his mind, mocking him with their inability to be found; their tongues wiggling before his face, taunts echoing in his ears. And for a few frightening seconds, it was almost too much for him to bear…
But one look into Sydney's eyes, one glance at her beautiful face and body, the pressure of her fingers still clamped tightly around his wrist, afraid to let go… It was all the assurance he needed to pluck an answer from the air and place it before her. He let the numbers laugh, willed the color from his cheeks and the worry and frustration to subside.
Sydney didn't need numbers or statistics; neither of them did. She didn't need him to tell her that they should both be sleeping peacefully right now, that they shouldn't have to worry about this for awhile yet, that if he had had enough fingers to count the days and weeks and months, he would have known that their due date was not for almost another three weeks…
She needed him, and he could never, would never, deny her that, would always be there to put his arms around her, to offer her his strength when her own failed her.
"No." His voice was strong somehow, a smile finding its way to his lips; the wonderment returning and fear's curses fading away in the wind, its feet scratching through the tree branches and scuffling down the sidewalk, far away from their bedroom, their life, their paradise. "Not too soon."
They had been waiting for months, ever since she had whispered those words to him. It seemed both yesterday and so long ago since they had tickled his ears, since he had had to pinch himself every morning to make sure he really was awake, that this wasn't all a dream…
Michael… Actually, I… We… You're going to be a daddy…
They had been waiting, dreaming, living, breathing it for so long. The reality of it spiraling wildly around them when they had walked into the doctor's office for the first time, hands linked. His palms must have been sweating profusely, he hadn't known if he would have been able to survive if the results of the official pregnancy test had come back negative, had known by the childlike and almost painful way Sydney had grasped at his hand that she had felt the same way. But the doctor had smiled when she had returned with the results, and…
"Sydney… we're going to have a baby."
And this time, not in a few months, weeks, or even days… They were talking hours, minutes, seconds… Now…
"Yeah," she breathed, his smile infectious, making its way to her lips as well.
The moment was perfect. The two of them standing hand in hand in the dark, as close as he could be to her without pressing too hard against their child; still so much in love, if possible, more so than they had ever been before. Their smiles wider and more innocent than two children playing outside on the first snow day of the school year.
Vaughn took his hands from hers to frame her face, couldn't ever remember having loved her more than he did at that moment, even though deep down he knew he had, knew he thought it every time he looked upon her smiling face. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, how she had completed him, made him more whole than he had ever thought possible…
But before the words could find their way out of his mouth, she quivered in his arms, cringing and bringing a hand down to her stomach, the other on his arm to steady herself, trying to swallow the gasp managed a soft escape from her lips. In reality, it was a sound barely louder than a sigh. To him, it was an agonizing shriek, more painful on his ears than fingernails on a chalkboard, his freshman dorm fire alarm, and Arvin Sloane's voice all mixed into one.
Happiness fleeing quickly, running off to a remote location, grabbing his dimples and the twinkle that had been in his eyes, making sure that no hint of itself was left behind in his features. Concern returned in its wake, blowing in on an imagined breeze, clouding over the two of them, and splashing wrinkles onto his forehead.
"You okay?" Vaughn asked, holding her tightly to steady her, to keep her on her feet; trying to caress away the pain, wishing he could bear some of it for her.
Sydney nodded, eyes squeezed shut, unintentionally tightening her grip on his arm. Time froze as they stood there, not melting and ticking again until she took a deep, shuddering breath and finally opened her eyes.
"I think…" she began, her voice a harsh whisper.
But he pressed a soft kiss to her lips, stealing her words and murmuring them softly into the little space between them. "We should go."
~~~
Loosely, Vaughn's French
translates to "Just a few more weeks...". This was determined with a
little help from AltaVista and much advice from Dream Writer 4 Life and Agent
Lainie, my French Consultants (Thanks!)
On a positive note, this chapter turned out better than I first thought it
would, so at least you didn't get the initial versions... Hope you don't mind
the time warp too much…