Authors note: Any and all mistakes are clearly mine. Dae's great but I do make mistakes when I go back & act on her editing. Unfortunately I wasn't able to act on all of her suggestions this time around - not because she wasn't right (remember, to write is human, to edit is divine :)) but because I'm having one hell of a bout with my muse and as a result the writing isn't always there.
Chapter Nine
"There are days when I hate my job," Sydney sighed as she walked into the restaurant the next evening.
"You love your job," Francie retorted, not even looking up as she worked on the restaurant's books.
"Yeah," she agreed and sank into a chair. It wasn't the CIA or her job she hated, it was Sloane.
"So," Francie looked up from her work. "How was last night?"
"Nice," she smiled. "Really nice."
"When do I get to meet him?"
"How about dinner here Saturday?"
"Really?" her friend replied, clearly pleasantly surprised.
"Really," Sydney laughed.
"Sure! That'd be great! I'll make sure we have some White Chocolate Cheesecake. You know it's one of our specialties," she grinned before eagerly returning to her inquiry. "Tell me more about last night."
"We went to the game," she shrugged. "After that I invited him for coffee."
"Really?"
"Just coffee!" she insisted. "We talked for a little while, about the game and everything . . . "
"You really like him."
"I do," she agreed. "He sent me flowers." As the words passed her lips Sydney tipped her head slightly, her hair falling in front of her face. The smile that crossed her face was small but significant as she remembered the thoughtful albeit unexpected appearance of the delivery boy earlier.
"What?"
"This morning. Before I left the house, he had flowers sent to me, to thank me for coming with him and the coffee."
"I can't believe he agreed to meet Will and I after only one date," she mused, turning her attention back to the bookkeeping.
"Me either," Sydney muttered. "Although it'll be after two dates. Sort of."
Francie's head snapped back up, "what?"
"There's another Kings game Friday."
"Your going out again? Twice in one week?" she questioned, clearly impressed.
"No. I mean yes, we're seeing each other again, but we're not going out," she corrected. "I invited him over to watch the Kings game. He's bringing the Chinese."
"That's so sweet."
"Francie, it's just watching television -"
"Really Syd, it's too sweet," Francie insisted. "I can't wait to meet him."
Sydney smiled, imagining a meeting far better than their last, where Francie was legitimately excited - perhaps too excited - but it would be better than the clone she'd unknowingly introduced Vaughn to. "Me too," she replied and returned to her coffee as Francie worked more on her bookkeeping.
Friday evening found her anxiously sitting on her sofa, waiting his arrival. Their briefing had run unexpectedly late as Kendall seemed intent on rehashing every detail of what they'd already known for weeks. Even with Kendall's delays, Sydney was relieved to see they were out in time to see the Kings game, and was now only hoping Vaughn would arrive in time for the start. She'd already flipped her television to ESPN and struggled to remain patient until she heard his knock.
"Hey," she smiled and opened the door. To no surprise he looked as appealing and inviting as ever in the jeans and t-shirt she knew he'd just picked without much thought. That was one of the greatest things about Vaughn - he was happiest just being comfortable, in a t-shirt and jeans he'd owned since college. Which worked fine with Sydney, because that's when she loved him the most, when he was free of any pretense or concern.
"Chinese." Vaughn quickly held up the bag as she nodded and moved out of the way. "Has it started?" he glanced quickly at the television and back at her.
"Not yet," she assured him. "We should get some plates and forks before it does though," Sydney suggested as he followed her into the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink?"
"I'll grab it," he answered as he walked towards her fridge. Sydney stood on the other half of the room, grabbing the necessary plates, forks, and a small handful of napkins. When she turned around and saw Vaughn inspecting the contents of her refrigerator, she crossed the room to stand slightly behind him, her chin nearly brushing his shoulder.
"There's some wine," she quietly suggested. Vaughn glanced over at her, catching her eye and briefly surprised by her close proximity. When his gaze didn't waiver she found herself smiling and felt her skin on fire. "What?" For a moment neither of them moved as she watched his eyes briefly slip from hers, looking slowly up and down her body out of the corner of his eye. It wasn't until he looked straight into her eyes again that Sydney caught her breathe and remembered this wasn't before and locking the two of them away in her bedroom for the night wasn't an option.
"You're beautiful," he whispered with the reverence she'd once known. Before Sydney could respond, his hand seemed to slip instinctively to her waist and his lips brushed against hers. Vaughn was tentative, only responding when he felt her returning his gesture. After a brief, relatively chaste kiss, they broke apart. Her grin remained as he stayed close, his nose brushing against hers while he finally spoke. "Wine?"
Reluctantly Sydney pulled out of his orbit, still smiling. "I'll get the glasses," she offered as he grabbed the wine and the food and went to wait for her in the living room.
For a handful of hours, as the Kings battled out a victory, they hardly left the sofa. Once the Chinese containers were empty she placed them aside and willingly sat closer to him. They talked quietly to one another during the game, comments mostly related to the game they were watching. Vaughn's arm was resting comfortably on her shoulder as the pair watched. Sydney asked questions, mostly seeking clarifications for things she'd never fully understood. Once in awhile they'd even make the other one laugh, playfully mocking commercials and at times even the Kings opponent.
Even though Sydney insisted she could do it, Vaughn still accompanied her into the kitchen after the game. The room remained silent as they worked together easily. He put the containers in the trash and put the remainder of the wine back where it belonged. Sydney stood over the sink, washing the plates, glasses, and forks they'd used as he crossed the room to stand next to her. As she finished the last plate, she looked over and smiled at him, leaning up and meeting him halfway for another kiss.
"Do you want to watch some television?" she questioned, drying her hands on the dishtowel Vaughn handed her.
"Let's see what's on," he agreed. She led him back into the living room, grabbing the remote and sank comfortably into the sofa cushions.
Less than a second after they walked back in, she changed the channel, having little interest in ESPN's post-game edition of Sportscenter. What she found caused her to stop and smiled as Vaughn sat down on the floor in front of the couch. "Hey! It's MASH!!" she gestured enthusiastically to the television screen. Pausing only a moment to laugh at the comedy, she continued, "I love this show."
"It's good," he agreed, glancing back at her.
"Vaughn, you can sit up here," she insisted, pausing to yawn. There would be no point in denying her fatigue, but Sydney was in no rush for Vaughn to leave. While she knew it was too soon for him to spend the night, she couldn't help but wish he could.
"Lay down Syd, I'm fine," he brushed her off. Vaughn continued to look at her pointedly until she curled down onto the sofa, a throw pillow under her head.
"Don't go yet," she stated, her eyes half shut as another yawn escaped her. Even as she struggled to stay awake her mind easily traveled back to a time that hardly seemed so long ago. For some reason or another Sydney always seemed to fall asleep before Vaughn did so she'd become used to his sound. Not only his breathing but everything from his fingers running across a keyboard to the sound of his feet against her bedroom floor as he picked up or showered or just changed for the evening.
For a moment she thought about the first time she fell asleep in his company. Sydney had been so afraid that her stubborn nature had backfired and not only complicated her life but hurt him. While the possibility of being infected with the virus from the Rambaldi ball found in Taipei didn't appeal to her it didn't scare her nearly half as badly as the thought of Vaughn coming down with it. So they'd been ordered into quarantine together where she'd fallen asleep, aware of his eyes on her and woke up to realize he'd discovered she occasionally talked in her sleep. The smile on his face when she'd woke up was enough to lend a new intimacy to their escalating relationship. As difficult as it had been, Sydney knew some part of her perhaps didn't miss the circumstances of that world but instead the bumps along the road and the successes that she and Vaughn had shared.
"I'm right here Syd," he whispered, moving briefly to turn off the table lamp before he returned to his seat.
If he'd ever been asked, he would have gladly admitted that this was his favorite part of domesticity. The quiet moments at the end of the day when the lights were out and conversation was often nonsensical. These were the moments that had been so difficult to achieve with Lauren as their respective careers had them ricocheting across the worlds often in different directions. For a brief moment he realized how different his late wife had been from the woman getting comfortable in front of him and then he quickly chastized himself for even making the comparision. Still she'd enjoyed going out and traveling. In fact on more than one occasion they'd had spats about his desire to stay home and watch hockey or play with the dogs while she'd prefer to go out. So on the rare occasion when she'd slow down enough and their lives would seem briefly dull, Vaughn would enjoy a few minutes of end-of-the-day domesticity with the woman he'd married. When he'd lost her months earlier he'd been certain he'd never experience them again. After everything he'd been through Vaughn had been sure he'd never want to risk losing someone again. Then Sydney Bristow reappeared from the dead and once again everything changed.
Vaughn sat there, listening to the show and sound of her laughter. After a commercial break her laughter had disappeared and all he heard behind him was the subtle sound of her breathing. He remained still for a little while longer, making sure his amusement with the show did nothing to disturb her. When the program ended he slowly turned around and looked at her. Sydney was bathed in nothing but the blue hue from the television as the beginning of another MASH played out on the screen. She was beautiful, perhaps even fragile, such a contrast from the woman he remembered nearly damaging his internal organs in Hong Kong. This is not a woman who needed someone to take care of her, and he imagined she never had been. Even so he couldn't help but wonder if she was someone who wished for comfort once in awhile, instead of always being the strong one.
Exactly how much time passed as he sat there studying her Vaughn was uncertain, although he suspected it might have been as long as half an hour. When he looked over at the clock again he realized it was far later than it should have been. Perhaps he shouldn't have stayed and indulged himself in the guilty pleasure of watching her at such ease, but it had been something he imagined gave her as much comfort as it did him. It felt like an eternity since (repetitive) he'd been so taken with a woman that it was enough to sit and watch her breathe. This woman was willingly inviting him into her closely-knit world, allowing him in possibly sooner than he deserved, but he was certain he wanted to stay there.
"Syd," he whispered, reaching out and lightly tugging her nose. A small smile reached his features as her eyes slowly opened.
"Hmm? Vaughn?"
"Yeah," he watched her blink a few times and her eyes open slightly. "I'm going to go. It's late."
"Okay," she smiled and held the pillow tighter under her head.
"I'll lock up on my way out, and I'll call you in the morning," he vowed, slowly standing up, his left knee creaking, cursing his body for aging far faster than it was ready to. He was in no way unfit or out of shape, but there were moments when he was reminded that sitting on a hard floor for a few hours was probably not among the best ideas, not when he was as tired as he was. Once on his feet Vaughn looked down at her for a moment before he bent over and kissed her forehead, lingering a bit longer than necessary. "Sweet dreams Syd," he whispered before he quietly walked out of the house, making sure the door was locked behind him.
Sydney had discovered that her job prevented her from being really a morning or a night person. Instead for years she'd been trained to simply be ready at all times of the day for whatever could or would be thrown her way. Still she enjoyed the ability to wake up slowly, the light through the living room window rousing her from her slumber. The room was quiet, the television on but nearly muted as she stretched on the sofa and sat up.
The morning was hers alone as she padded through the house, catching up on errands and eating a small breakfast. Once her chores were done she drove to the track and ran, her mind going faster than her feet. As much as she hated to admit it, Sloane had been right. This may have been a different universe, but some things hadn't changed. For one the man who forced her into this world was still as evil as she ever imagined, and no one would convince her otherwise. Her relationship with her parents, while not as twisted as it had once been, was far from stress-free either. This incarnation of Laura Bristow was a woman she didn't quite know how to deal with, and even the slight differences in Jack's character were unnerving. Then there was Vaughn. This world, for all its headaches and heartbreaks and constant questions, had still given her Vaughn. Theirs was not exactly a clean slate - she should have been getting over Danny while he was certainly still allowed to ache over Lauren. Even so from time to time she wondered how he could have grieved so passionately for a woman who he claimed had an entirely separate life from his, but he was grieving nonetheless.
As wonderful as their kiss the night before had been, they were more chaste than passionate, a tiny stepping stone as opposed to leaping into a relationship. She'd done that once before, and it had worked beautifully at the time. That was a whole other universe though, where he'd had the time to get to know her soul before they became more. Plus it wouldn't have been fair to rush into something with him, not yet, not when his wife had been dead less than half a year and while Sydney still was left at times wondering who she was.
He made it simple though, and at times she almost wished he didn't have that ability. Vaughn made it simple and easy and understandable to loathe Sloane. He trusted her instincts so strongly that he believed her about Sloane, although she couldn't imagine what he could possibly have against the man outside of the same instinct she felt. He'd been there to soothe her transition into the CIA, to get her any information he could to answer her questions, and what she hated most of all was that while she was quickly falling more in love with him there was still so much she hadn't yet told him. Worst of all, she wasn't sure she ever would.
The problem was she'd done that once - used the truth only when it was convenient to her. Admittedly comparing her relationship with Danny to what she shared with Vaughn was unfair to all involved, but it had taught her one thing. Truth wasn't something that could be used sparingly or when it best suited the user. Their relationship, as young as it was, was as alive as they were. Her only fear was that she'd never have it in her to tell anyone the truth and then one day they'd reach a place where her lies and her secrets will kill what they have. Sydney had lost Danny once. Losing Vaughn would leave her with nothing.
On that morning she convinced herself it was too early to worry about such things. Everything in this world was so new and fresh to her, exposing her soul to Vaughn should have been the least of her worries. Instead Sydney looked forward to the night ahead of them. She'd spent literally years wanting Vaughn and Francie to meet and now, finally, it would be happening. This time her friend could sincerely share in her joy while Will would surely badger him. All parts of her life were coming together after trying for so long to put the best parts of her world together.
Sydney was getting comfortable on her sofa, a salad in her lap and a rented DVD poised to play, when the phone rang. Annoyed she reached for the cordless and put it to her ear. She'd still had a luxurious afternoon planned, including a bath, before she expected Vaughn to arrive. "Hello?"
"How'd you sleep?"
Her aggravation slipped away, replaced by a smile, "Good. Thank you. I'm sorry for falling asleep on you."
"Actually you fell asleep on the sofa, not me," Vaughn teased. "It was fine Syd. You were tired."
"I didn't realize how tired I was," she admitted. With Vaughn there the night before she'd slipped into a comfort zone she rarely inhabited, her guard down and claiming sleep had been easier than it had been since she woke up in Hong Kong.
"What are you doing?"
"Eating lunch," she replied. "What are you doing?"
"Just finished hockey practice," Vaughn explained as she smiled.
"I want to see you play."
"Soon," he assured her. "We're still having dinner with Will and Francie tonight?"
"Is that a problem?"
"No. I'm looking forward to it. I just wanted to make sure the plans hadn't changed," Vaughn was quick to put her fears to rest.
"No changes," Sydney promised.
They spoke for a few minutes, cementing plans before she hung up. Sydney enjoyed the time she had to prepare, taking care of such house errands at paying her bills and doing a load of laundry before spending some time enjoying a hot soak in the tub. As she was starting to get ready for the evening her preparations were halted by a brief conversation with an excited Francie until she convinced her friend to hang up the phone. Her best friend's bubbly enthusiasm was contagious and she found herself smiling despite whatever small fears she might have had.
The doorbell rang just as the clock chimed two minutes before she was expecting him. Sydney smiled as she walked towards the door, thankful for his persistent sense of punctuality. There were no butterflies of anxiety, just a settled feeling of happiness as she opened the door and saw him standing there. Vaughn looked casual without being sloppy, and she'd always enjoyed the look created when he wore his black button down shirt under his leather jacket.
"Hey," she smiled, moving to allow him entry.
"Hey," Vaughn grinned. Briefly she noted his caution before he leaned took half a step closer. Before Sydney could react he'd placed a gentle hand on her hip and leaned forward, briefly kissing her cheek. "You look nice," he complimented.
"Thank you," she replied.
"Ready to go?" he questioned. Sydney grabbed a light jacket before she slipped her hand into his and walked with him out of her apartment.
Their conversation was light on the brief drive, discussing hockey and how Francie's large collection of recipes eventually led her to opening a restaurant. She smiled as he parked, and then came around the car in time to open her door, their hands joining instinctively. They entered the restaurant, walking by a small group of people on their way out, evidence that Saturday was one of the restaurant's busiest nights. As they walked in Sydney caught the eye of the restaurant's manager, one of Francie's friends from business school, who directed them to a table in a quiet corner of the restaurant where Will and Francie were waiting.
"Hey," Francie greeted as she and Will stood to greet them.
Sydney smiled in return and then turned to Vaughn, "Francie, Will, this is Michael."
Francie's grin seemed infectious to everyone but Will, whose expression was a cross between weariness and suspicion as he seemed to take in the newest man in Sydney's life. "It's very nice to meet you both," Vaughn replied as he shook both of their hands. "This place is wonderful. I love the color and it smells great," he commented, helping Sydney into her seat before taking his own.
"Thank you," Francie replied as they all got comfortable at the table. "Syd's told us a bit about you. You work for the government?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "My father's been with the State Department for as long as I can remember, so government service is always something that I gave a lot of thought to. So, when they called, I answered," he shrugged with a half smile as the waitress came to take their orders.
"That must be exciting," Francie suggested.
"It's a good job," he agreed.
"You're what, an analyst?" Will questioned. "Sit behind a desk and try to decipher what people like James Bond go out and get."
"Will," Francie scolded in a low voice as Sydney took a sip of her wine and tried not to roll her eyes.
"I'm sorry," he looked back at Vaughn. "I just can't imagine you as James Bond," he shrugged. As she sat next to Vaughn, Sydney wondered if Will would ever be able to wrap his mind around all that she did and how very far from James Bond espionage really was.
"I did some field," Vaughn explained.
"So," Francie jumped in, eager to change the topic of conversation. "Sydney says you like to play pool."
"In some of my free time," he shrugged.
"We should play some time," Will off handedly suggested, to the surprise of all at the table.
Vaughn's lips curved slightly as he shook his head and seemed to study the tablecloth, "I'm not sure that's a good idea."
"Hey, it's fine if you haven't played in awhile, I'll give you a break," he added.
"Okay," he glanced back up, his expression nearly blank. "We'll play sometime," he agreed.
"Actually, Vaughn's favorite sport is hockey," Sydney said.
"Really? I play a little hockey every once in awhile," Will replied.
Francie looked at him curiously, "You do?"
"I do," he answered quickly.
"Okay," she shot back skeptically.
"I played for a little while before I joined the CIA," Vaughn shrugged.
"You played in college?" Francie questioned.
"Well, yes," he answered. "I played in the minor leagues for a year before I went to law school."
"Really?" Sydney looked at him, clearly surprised. The man she'd known before had never played in the minor leagues or on any professional hockey team, much to his own disappointment, and had played college hockey as a walk on, not a scholarship player.
"Yeah," he glanced at her with a wide smile. "I wasn't very good, and I didn't even play for the King's minor league franchise, but I played."
"I ran track in college," Will commented.
"You weren't very good," Francie reminded him lightly.
"No, I wasn't," he agreed. "That's how I met Syd and Francie," he explained to Vaughn.
"You ran track in college?" Vaughn glanced at Sydney, clearly surprised.
"Cross country," she corrected. Another tidbit she never would have known if it hadn't been for a few pictures in her parent's living room. Yes she'd been good enough to run on the cross country team as a college student but in the life she remembered living she'd been too focused on what she thought was saving the world to have much time or interest in extracurricular activities. If her parent's photos were any indication, in this life she'd also found time to get involved in the University's drama department and do some volunteer work as well. All wonderful, fulfilling activities that she'd never been able to get involved in during the life she remembered.
"She coached the girl's team at St. Jude's too. One of her players went to Stanford on a cross-country scholarship," Francie added proudly. In her seat Sydney could only silently smile, not quite sure how to feel about all of the accomplishments she'd supposedly piled up in this world. What she was certain of, however, was that Stanford had one of the best cross country programs in the country and a scholarship there was nothing to sneeze at.
"You were so happy there," Will said quietly. "You could go back. You could be an assistant coach, or a substitute teacher -"
"Will, please," Sydney stopped him.
"What? You're really going to play James Bond your whole life?"
"I don't know," she leaned in close, her voice growing low and with an edge. "I'm not sure what I'm going to do for the rest of my life but this is what I'm doing now. I know you and my parents wish I was back at St. Jude, but I'm not so just stop it."
"Sydney has the most potential of any agent I've ever seen," Vaughn spoke quietly in her defense.
Before Will could find a comeback the waitress appeared, quietly placing their meals in front of them and asking if there was anything they needed. With the thankful break in the conversation Francie took the initiative to again try to turn the conversation to friendlier topics. "Michael, are you from California originally?"
"I was born in France," he explained. "This food is wonderful," he complimented as Francie smiled widely. After a moment Vaughn continued. "My mother's from France originally, but her father did a lot of work for the government so she grew up between France and D.C. We lived between her village in Normandy and D.C. until we moved here when I was three. When I was growing up we'd visit Normandy during the summer and some holidays, but I've spent most of my life around Los Angeles."
"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" Francie inquired.
"I have two sisters. Charlotte and Suzanne," he replied. Sydney tried not to seem too surprised. They'd never discussed families, nothing beyond her own parent's concern with her working at the CIA, but while she remembered his older sister Charlotte she never remembered a sister named Suzanne.
"Will's the only one of us who has a sibling," Francie continued. "Amy's a bit younger than he is. Are you the oldest?"
"No," he shook his head. "Charlotte's eighteen months older and Suzanne's fourteen years younger."
"Fourteen years?" Will's eyes widened as Vaughn chuckled. Sydney listened carefully, a sudden guilt twisting at the realization that Suzanne was the baby that William Vaughn was able to have with his wife in a world where her mother hadn't killed him.
"She was my parent's 'surprise' baby," he smirked. "She's a good kid though. She just graduated college and moved to Massachusetts."
"Are you close to your family?"
"Relatively," Vaughn shrugged. Sydney was amazed at the ease in which he was floating through Francie's obvious inquisition. Briefly she wondered if the CIA's security background was as insistent. "I see my father around the office. He's a director overseeing a few of my cases, and I talk to my mother usually once every few weeks," he explained. "Will, Syd said you're a reporter?"
"Yeah," he answered, surprised at the shift in conversation back on him. "I'm not exactly covering the headlines, but I've had several stories on the front page."
"He's won a few awards as well. A few years ago he won an award for best human interest story," Sydney explained proudly.
"Really?" Vaughn glanced at the other man as Will nodded. "What was the story about?"
"A migrant farmer. He was being controlled by just a horrible man. He barely gave them enough food and water, he was happy controlling every aspect of their world, but this man learned how to read, then he taught the rest of them how to read. They were able to read about the rights and opportunities given to them, and eventually they were able to leave and create better lives for themselves, and right now this man is in prison."
"That's a great story," he commented.
"It was really inspirational," Will agreed.
"He's covered some bizarre stuff," Francie commented.
"Really?" Vaughn spoke with a half smile. "Such as?"
Francie leaned over and placed a hand on her boyfriend's arm, "can I?" she questioned as Will shrugged. "My favorite was this woman he wrote about probably . . . four years ago," she considered before she continued. "Will wrote a story about a woman who was pregnant and she was craving newspaper. Literally, she would eat newspaper. I guess it was some legitimate condition but it's still the most bizarre thing I've ever seen," she chuckled as the three others joined her.
"I remember that," Sydney agreed. "That was weird."
"Every reporter covers some weird stories before they make it big. It's part of the territory," Will explained defensively.
"It was a good story," his best friend was quick to assure him.
Francie chuckled, "Just weird."
Their food arrived as they continued to talk. Much to Vaughn's amusement Francie and Will were full of stories of Sydney's years growing up. She remained quiet, at times as wrapped up in her friend's accounts of her own youth as she was in her date for the evening. Much to her own relief Sydney found that she remembered experiencing most of the stories her friends shared, picking up details here and there of how the memories differed. After all that she didn't remember, it was nice to still share so much with her two best friends.
"I hope Will forgets about playing pool," Vaughn confessed, putting his belt buckle into place and turning the car engine on. They'd walked away from Will and Francie mere minutes before at the end of a nice dinner. Sydney had felt at ease as the four of them had slipped into friendship she'd once known.
She looked at him, studying his expression in the dark car as he started to pull out of the parking space. "Why?"
"I almost didn't join the CIA," he began to explain, tossing a brief glance her way. "Instead I almost became a pool hustler."
"Vaughn," she laughed as he grinned widely. "I don't want to say Will's horrible . . . You can't play him," she laughed lightly.
"I won't," he promised. "Your friends are great."
Sydney smiled widely and looked out the window, remembering some of the more embarrassing moments of their many stories. "They are. I am sorry about how Will acted when we first got here," she added.
"Don't worry about it Sydney."
"Thank you for coming."
"I had fun," he assured her. "Francie's restaurant is great. I've never even heard of some of the food on the menu but everything from there smells spectacular."
"Yeah, it is," she agreed.
"So," Vaughn began as they neared her place. "What are you doing Wednesday?"
"I don't think I'm doing anything, why?"
"Wednesday is supposed to be my hockey night," he started to explain. "Except this week we're meeting on Thursday. I want to get some time on the ice anyway, and I wondered if you'd want to come."
The smile that had yet to disappear from her face only grew wider and the twinkle her in eye more pronounced as he parked the car and met her eyes. "I'd like that."
Quietly he got out of the car and met Sydney on her side, holding her hand as they walked towards her front door. "Would you like to come in and have some coffee?" she offered as they arrived at her door.
"I shouldn't," he explained. Vaughn took only a moment to read the disappointed expression on her features and continued, "I can't. I'm supposed to be at my sister's early tomorrow to help my father and brother in law build a shed."
"Okay," she nodded. Sydney studied him closely for a second, suddenly struck by an overwhelming fear of losing him again. He barely had a moment to react before she was in his arms, holding him tightly, her eyes shut as she held him close. They were already so close to sharing the sacred relationship she'd once known, and she wondered how she'd react if they couldn't make it work in this world. So for a few moments Sydney enjoyed the muffled sound of his heart and the steady pattern of his breathing. Vaughn was there, with her, in the only moment she could control. It wasn't everything and they were far away from guarantees and lifetimes but it was enough to make Sydney believe she had something back that she'd nearly lost.
"I'll call you tomorrow?" he questioned with a low voice as he pulled away.
"That'd be nice," she smiled. Vaughn's eyes closely followed hers for a moment before he leaned in and kissed her. This time their contact was hardly brief and even when they broke off from the initial contact his lips brushed lightly against hers a few times. Finally he pulled back, his expression mirroring hers, leaving her certain that one day soon there'd be more. "Bye," she called, walking into the house and closing the door behind her.
Chapter Nine
"There are days when I hate my job," Sydney sighed as she walked into the restaurant the next evening.
"You love your job," Francie retorted, not even looking up as she worked on the restaurant's books.
"Yeah," she agreed and sank into a chair. It wasn't the CIA or her job she hated, it was Sloane.
"So," Francie looked up from her work. "How was last night?"
"Nice," she smiled. "Really nice."
"When do I get to meet him?"
"How about dinner here Saturday?"
"Really?" her friend replied, clearly pleasantly surprised.
"Really," Sydney laughed.
"Sure! That'd be great! I'll make sure we have some White Chocolate Cheesecake. You know it's one of our specialties," she grinned before eagerly returning to her inquiry. "Tell me more about last night."
"We went to the game," she shrugged. "After that I invited him for coffee."
"Really?"
"Just coffee!" she insisted. "We talked for a little while, about the game and everything . . . "
"You really like him."
"I do," she agreed. "He sent me flowers." As the words passed her lips Sydney tipped her head slightly, her hair falling in front of her face. The smile that crossed her face was small but significant as she remembered the thoughtful albeit unexpected appearance of the delivery boy earlier.
"What?"
"This morning. Before I left the house, he had flowers sent to me, to thank me for coming with him and the coffee."
"I can't believe he agreed to meet Will and I after only one date," she mused, turning her attention back to the bookkeeping.
"Me either," Sydney muttered. "Although it'll be after two dates. Sort of."
Francie's head snapped back up, "what?"
"There's another Kings game Friday."
"Your going out again? Twice in one week?" she questioned, clearly impressed.
"No. I mean yes, we're seeing each other again, but we're not going out," she corrected. "I invited him over to watch the Kings game. He's bringing the Chinese."
"That's so sweet."
"Francie, it's just watching television -"
"Really Syd, it's too sweet," Francie insisted. "I can't wait to meet him."
Sydney smiled, imagining a meeting far better than their last, where Francie was legitimately excited - perhaps too excited - but it would be better than the clone she'd unknowingly introduced Vaughn to. "Me too," she replied and returned to her coffee as Francie worked more on her bookkeeping.
Friday evening found her anxiously sitting on her sofa, waiting his arrival. Their briefing had run unexpectedly late as Kendall seemed intent on rehashing every detail of what they'd already known for weeks. Even with Kendall's delays, Sydney was relieved to see they were out in time to see the Kings game, and was now only hoping Vaughn would arrive in time for the start. She'd already flipped her television to ESPN and struggled to remain patient until she heard his knock.
"Hey," she smiled and opened the door. To no surprise he looked as appealing and inviting as ever in the jeans and t-shirt she knew he'd just picked without much thought. That was one of the greatest things about Vaughn - he was happiest just being comfortable, in a t-shirt and jeans he'd owned since college. Which worked fine with Sydney, because that's when she loved him the most, when he was free of any pretense or concern.
"Chinese." Vaughn quickly held up the bag as she nodded and moved out of the way. "Has it started?" he glanced quickly at the television and back at her.
"Not yet," she assured him. "We should get some plates and forks before it does though," Sydney suggested as he followed her into the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink?"
"I'll grab it," he answered as he walked towards her fridge. Sydney stood on the other half of the room, grabbing the necessary plates, forks, and a small handful of napkins. When she turned around and saw Vaughn inspecting the contents of her refrigerator, she crossed the room to stand slightly behind him, her chin nearly brushing his shoulder.
"There's some wine," she quietly suggested. Vaughn glanced over at her, catching her eye and briefly surprised by her close proximity. When his gaze didn't waiver she found herself smiling and felt her skin on fire. "What?" For a moment neither of them moved as she watched his eyes briefly slip from hers, looking slowly up and down her body out of the corner of his eye. It wasn't until he looked straight into her eyes again that Sydney caught her breathe and remembered this wasn't before and locking the two of them away in her bedroom for the night wasn't an option.
"You're beautiful," he whispered with the reverence she'd once known. Before Sydney could respond, his hand seemed to slip instinctively to her waist and his lips brushed against hers. Vaughn was tentative, only responding when he felt her returning his gesture. After a brief, relatively chaste kiss, they broke apart. Her grin remained as he stayed close, his nose brushing against hers while he finally spoke. "Wine?"
Reluctantly Sydney pulled out of his orbit, still smiling. "I'll get the glasses," she offered as he grabbed the wine and the food and went to wait for her in the living room.
For a handful of hours, as the Kings battled out a victory, they hardly left the sofa. Once the Chinese containers were empty she placed them aside and willingly sat closer to him. They talked quietly to one another during the game, comments mostly related to the game they were watching. Vaughn's arm was resting comfortably on her shoulder as the pair watched. Sydney asked questions, mostly seeking clarifications for things she'd never fully understood. Once in awhile they'd even make the other one laugh, playfully mocking commercials and at times even the Kings opponent.
Even though Sydney insisted she could do it, Vaughn still accompanied her into the kitchen after the game. The room remained silent as they worked together easily. He put the containers in the trash and put the remainder of the wine back where it belonged. Sydney stood over the sink, washing the plates, glasses, and forks they'd used as he crossed the room to stand next to her. As she finished the last plate, she looked over and smiled at him, leaning up and meeting him halfway for another kiss.
"Do you want to watch some television?" she questioned, drying her hands on the dishtowel Vaughn handed her.
"Let's see what's on," he agreed. She led him back into the living room, grabbing the remote and sank comfortably into the sofa cushions.
Less than a second after they walked back in, she changed the channel, having little interest in ESPN's post-game edition of Sportscenter. What she found caused her to stop and smiled as Vaughn sat down on the floor in front of the couch. "Hey! It's MASH!!" she gestured enthusiastically to the television screen. Pausing only a moment to laugh at the comedy, she continued, "I love this show."
"It's good," he agreed, glancing back at her.
"Vaughn, you can sit up here," she insisted, pausing to yawn. There would be no point in denying her fatigue, but Sydney was in no rush for Vaughn to leave. While she knew it was too soon for him to spend the night, she couldn't help but wish he could.
"Lay down Syd, I'm fine," he brushed her off. Vaughn continued to look at her pointedly until she curled down onto the sofa, a throw pillow under her head.
"Don't go yet," she stated, her eyes half shut as another yawn escaped her. Even as she struggled to stay awake her mind easily traveled back to a time that hardly seemed so long ago. For some reason or another Sydney always seemed to fall asleep before Vaughn did so she'd become used to his sound. Not only his breathing but everything from his fingers running across a keyboard to the sound of his feet against her bedroom floor as he picked up or showered or just changed for the evening.
For a moment she thought about the first time she fell asleep in his company. Sydney had been so afraid that her stubborn nature had backfired and not only complicated her life but hurt him. While the possibility of being infected with the virus from the Rambaldi ball found in Taipei didn't appeal to her it didn't scare her nearly half as badly as the thought of Vaughn coming down with it. So they'd been ordered into quarantine together where she'd fallen asleep, aware of his eyes on her and woke up to realize he'd discovered she occasionally talked in her sleep. The smile on his face when she'd woke up was enough to lend a new intimacy to their escalating relationship. As difficult as it had been, Sydney knew some part of her perhaps didn't miss the circumstances of that world but instead the bumps along the road and the successes that she and Vaughn had shared.
"I'm right here Syd," he whispered, moving briefly to turn off the table lamp before he returned to his seat.
If he'd ever been asked, he would have gladly admitted that this was his favorite part of domesticity. The quiet moments at the end of the day when the lights were out and conversation was often nonsensical. These were the moments that had been so difficult to achieve with Lauren as their respective careers had them ricocheting across the worlds often in different directions. For a brief moment he realized how different his late wife had been from the woman getting comfortable in front of him and then he quickly chastized himself for even making the comparision. Still she'd enjoyed going out and traveling. In fact on more than one occasion they'd had spats about his desire to stay home and watch hockey or play with the dogs while she'd prefer to go out. So on the rare occasion when she'd slow down enough and their lives would seem briefly dull, Vaughn would enjoy a few minutes of end-of-the-day domesticity with the woman he'd married. When he'd lost her months earlier he'd been certain he'd never experience them again. After everything he'd been through Vaughn had been sure he'd never want to risk losing someone again. Then Sydney Bristow reappeared from the dead and once again everything changed.
Vaughn sat there, listening to the show and sound of her laughter. After a commercial break her laughter had disappeared and all he heard behind him was the subtle sound of her breathing. He remained still for a little while longer, making sure his amusement with the show did nothing to disturb her. When the program ended he slowly turned around and looked at her. Sydney was bathed in nothing but the blue hue from the television as the beginning of another MASH played out on the screen. She was beautiful, perhaps even fragile, such a contrast from the woman he remembered nearly damaging his internal organs in Hong Kong. This is not a woman who needed someone to take care of her, and he imagined she never had been. Even so he couldn't help but wonder if she was someone who wished for comfort once in awhile, instead of always being the strong one.
Exactly how much time passed as he sat there studying her Vaughn was uncertain, although he suspected it might have been as long as half an hour. When he looked over at the clock again he realized it was far later than it should have been. Perhaps he shouldn't have stayed and indulged himself in the guilty pleasure of watching her at such ease, but it had been something he imagined gave her as much comfort as it did him. It felt like an eternity since (repetitive) he'd been so taken with a woman that it was enough to sit and watch her breathe. This woman was willingly inviting him into her closely-knit world, allowing him in possibly sooner than he deserved, but he was certain he wanted to stay there.
"Syd," he whispered, reaching out and lightly tugging her nose. A small smile reached his features as her eyes slowly opened.
"Hmm? Vaughn?"
"Yeah," he watched her blink a few times and her eyes open slightly. "I'm going to go. It's late."
"Okay," she smiled and held the pillow tighter under her head.
"I'll lock up on my way out, and I'll call you in the morning," he vowed, slowly standing up, his left knee creaking, cursing his body for aging far faster than it was ready to. He was in no way unfit or out of shape, but there were moments when he was reminded that sitting on a hard floor for a few hours was probably not among the best ideas, not when he was as tired as he was. Once on his feet Vaughn looked down at her for a moment before he bent over and kissed her forehead, lingering a bit longer than necessary. "Sweet dreams Syd," he whispered before he quietly walked out of the house, making sure the door was locked behind him.
Sydney had discovered that her job prevented her from being really a morning or a night person. Instead for years she'd been trained to simply be ready at all times of the day for whatever could or would be thrown her way. Still she enjoyed the ability to wake up slowly, the light through the living room window rousing her from her slumber. The room was quiet, the television on but nearly muted as she stretched on the sofa and sat up.
The morning was hers alone as she padded through the house, catching up on errands and eating a small breakfast. Once her chores were done she drove to the track and ran, her mind going faster than her feet. As much as she hated to admit it, Sloane had been right. This may have been a different universe, but some things hadn't changed. For one the man who forced her into this world was still as evil as she ever imagined, and no one would convince her otherwise. Her relationship with her parents, while not as twisted as it had once been, was far from stress-free either. This incarnation of Laura Bristow was a woman she didn't quite know how to deal with, and even the slight differences in Jack's character were unnerving. Then there was Vaughn. This world, for all its headaches and heartbreaks and constant questions, had still given her Vaughn. Theirs was not exactly a clean slate - she should have been getting over Danny while he was certainly still allowed to ache over Lauren. Even so from time to time she wondered how he could have grieved so passionately for a woman who he claimed had an entirely separate life from his, but he was grieving nonetheless.
As wonderful as their kiss the night before had been, they were more chaste than passionate, a tiny stepping stone as opposed to leaping into a relationship. She'd done that once before, and it had worked beautifully at the time. That was a whole other universe though, where he'd had the time to get to know her soul before they became more. Plus it wouldn't have been fair to rush into something with him, not yet, not when his wife had been dead less than half a year and while Sydney still was left at times wondering who she was.
He made it simple though, and at times she almost wished he didn't have that ability. Vaughn made it simple and easy and understandable to loathe Sloane. He trusted her instincts so strongly that he believed her about Sloane, although she couldn't imagine what he could possibly have against the man outside of the same instinct she felt. He'd been there to soothe her transition into the CIA, to get her any information he could to answer her questions, and what she hated most of all was that while she was quickly falling more in love with him there was still so much she hadn't yet told him. Worst of all, she wasn't sure she ever would.
The problem was she'd done that once - used the truth only when it was convenient to her. Admittedly comparing her relationship with Danny to what she shared with Vaughn was unfair to all involved, but it had taught her one thing. Truth wasn't something that could be used sparingly or when it best suited the user. Their relationship, as young as it was, was as alive as they were. Her only fear was that she'd never have it in her to tell anyone the truth and then one day they'd reach a place where her lies and her secrets will kill what they have. Sydney had lost Danny once. Losing Vaughn would leave her with nothing.
On that morning she convinced herself it was too early to worry about such things. Everything in this world was so new and fresh to her, exposing her soul to Vaughn should have been the least of her worries. Instead Sydney looked forward to the night ahead of them. She'd spent literally years wanting Vaughn and Francie to meet and now, finally, it would be happening. This time her friend could sincerely share in her joy while Will would surely badger him. All parts of her life were coming together after trying for so long to put the best parts of her world together.
Sydney was getting comfortable on her sofa, a salad in her lap and a rented DVD poised to play, when the phone rang. Annoyed she reached for the cordless and put it to her ear. She'd still had a luxurious afternoon planned, including a bath, before she expected Vaughn to arrive. "Hello?"
"How'd you sleep?"
Her aggravation slipped away, replaced by a smile, "Good. Thank you. I'm sorry for falling asleep on you."
"Actually you fell asleep on the sofa, not me," Vaughn teased. "It was fine Syd. You were tired."
"I didn't realize how tired I was," she admitted. With Vaughn there the night before she'd slipped into a comfort zone she rarely inhabited, her guard down and claiming sleep had been easier than it had been since she woke up in Hong Kong.
"What are you doing?"
"Eating lunch," she replied. "What are you doing?"
"Just finished hockey practice," Vaughn explained as she smiled.
"I want to see you play."
"Soon," he assured her. "We're still having dinner with Will and Francie tonight?"
"Is that a problem?"
"No. I'm looking forward to it. I just wanted to make sure the plans hadn't changed," Vaughn was quick to put her fears to rest.
"No changes," Sydney promised.
They spoke for a few minutes, cementing plans before she hung up. Sydney enjoyed the time she had to prepare, taking care of such house errands at paying her bills and doing a load of laundry before spending some time enjoying a hot soak in the tub. As she was starting to get ready for the evening her preparations were halted by a brief conversation with an excited Francie until she convinced her friend to hang up the phone. Her best friend's bubbly enthusiasm was contagious and she found herself smiling despite whatever small fears she might have had.
The doorbell rang just as the clock chimed two minutes before she was expecting him. Sydney smiled as she walked towards the door, thankful for his persistent sense of punctuality. There were no butterflies of anxiety, just a settled feeling of happiness as she opened the door and saw him standing there. Vaughn looked casual without being sloppy, and she'd always enjoyed the look created when he wore his black button down shirt under his leather jacket.
"Hey," she smiled, moving to allow him entry.
"Hey," Vaughn grinned. Briefly she noted his caution before he leaned took half a step closer. Before Sydney could react he'd placed a gentle hand on her hip and leaned forward, briefly kissing her cheek. "You look nice," he complimented.
"Thank you," she replied.
"Ready to go?" he questioned. Sydney grabbed a light jacket before she slipped her hand into his and walked with him out of her apartment.
Their conversation was light on the brief drive, discussing hockey and how Francie's large collection of recipes eventually led her to opening a restaurant. She smiled as he parked, and then came around the car in time to open her door, their hands joining instinctively. They entered the restaurant, walking by a small group of people on their way out, evidence that Saturday was one of the restaurant's busiest nights. As they walked in Sydney caught the eye of the restaurant's manager, one of Francie's friends from business school, who directed them to a table in a quiet corner of the restaurant where Will and Francie were waiting.
"Hey," Francie greeted as she and Will stood to greet them.
Sydney smiled in return and then turned to Vaughn, "Francie, Will, this is Michael."
Francie's grin seemed infectious to everyone but Will, whose expression was a cross between weariness and suspicion as he seemed to take in the newest man in Sydney's life. "It's very nice to meet you both," Vaughn replied as he shook both of their hands. "This place is wonderful. I love the color and it smells great," he commented, helping Sydney into her seat before taking his own.
"Thank you," Francie replied as they all got comfortable at the table. "Syd's told us a bit about you. You work for the government?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "My father's been with the State Department for as long as I can remember, so government service is always something that I gave a lot of thought to. So, when they called, I answered," he shrugged with a half smile as the waitress came to take their orders.
"That must be exciting," Francie suggested.
"It's a good job," he agreed.
"You're what, an analyst?" Will questioned. "Sit behind a desk and try to decipher what people like James Bond go out and get."
"Will," Francie scolded in a low voice as Sydney took a sip of her wine and tried not to roll her eyes.
"I'm sorry," he looked back at Vaughn. "I just can't imagine you as James Bond," he shrugged. As she sat next to Vaughn, Sydney wondered if Will would ever be able to wrap his mind around all that she did and how very far from James Bond espionage really was.
"I did some field," Vaughn explained.
"So," Francie jumped in, eager to change the topic of conversation. "Sydney says you like to play pool."
"In some of my free time," he shrugged.
"We should play some time," Will off handedly suggested, to the surprise of all at the table.
Vaughn's lips curved slightly as he shook his head and seemed to study the tablecloth, "I'm not sure that's a good idea."
"Hey, it's fine if you haven't played in awhile, I'll give you a break," he added.
"Okay," he glanced back up, his expression nearly blank. "We'll play sometime," he agreed.
"Actually, Vaughn's favorite sport is hockey," Sydney said.
"Really? I play a little hockey every once in awhile," Will replied.
Francie looked at him curiously, "You do?"
"I do," he answered quickly.
"Okay," she shot back skeptically.
"I played for a little while before I joined the CIA," Vaughn shrugged.
"You played in college?" Francie questioned.
"Well, yes," he answered. "I played in the minor leagues for a year before I went to law school."
"Really?" Sydney looked at him, clearly surprised. The man she'd known before had never played in the minor leagues or on any professional hockey team, much to his own disappointment, and had played college hockey as a walk on, not a scholarship player.
"Yeah," he glanced at her with a wide smile. "I wasn't very good, and I didn't even play for the King's minor league franchise, but I played."
"I ran track in college," Will commented.
"You weren't very good," Francie reminded him lightly.
"No, I wasn't," he agreed. "That's how I met Syd and Francie," he explained to Vaughn.
"You ran track in college?" Vaughn glanced at Sydney, clearly surprised.
"Cross country," she corrected. Another tidbit she never would have known if it hadn't been for a few pictures in her parent's living room. Yes she'd been good enough to run on the cross country team as a college student but in the life she remembered living she'd been too focused on what she thought was saving the world to have much time or interest in extracurricular activities. If her parent's photos were any indication, in this life she'd also found time to get involved in the University's drama department and do some volunteer work as well. All wonderful, fulfilling activities that she'd never been able to get involved in during the life she remembered.
"She coached the girl's team at St. Jude's too. One of her players went to Stanford on a cross-country scholarship," Francie added proudly. In her seat Sydney could only silently smile, not quite sure how to feel about all of the accomplishments she'd supposedly piled up in this world. What she was certain of, however, was that Stanford had one of the best cross country programs in the country and a scholarship there was nothing to sneeze at.
"You were so happy there," Will said quietly. "You could go back. You could be an assistant coach, or a substitute teacher -"
"Will, please," Sydney stopped him.
"What? You're really going to play James Bond your whole life?"
"I don't know," she leaned in close, her voice growing low and with an edge. "I'm not sure what I'm going to do for the rest of my life but this is what I'm doing now. I know you and my parents wish I was back at St. Jude, but I'm not so just stop it."
"Sydney has the most potential of any agent I've ever seen," Vaughn spoke quietly in her defense.
Before Will could find a comeback the waitress appeared, quietly placing their meals in front of them and asking if there was anything they needed. With the thankful break in the conversation Francie took the initiative to again try to turn the conversation to friendlier topics. "Michael, are you from California originally?"
"I was born in France," he explained. "This food is wonderful," he complimented as Francie smiled widely. After a moment Vaughn continued. "My mother's from France originally, but her father did a lot of work for the government so she grew up between France and D.C. We lived between her village in Normandy and D.C. until we moved here when I was three. When I was growing up we'd visit Normandy during the summer and some holidays, but I've spent most of my life around Los Angeles."
"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" Francie inquired.
"I have two sisters. Charlotte and Suzanne," he replied. Sydney tried not to seem too surprised. They'd never discussed families, nothing beyond her own parent's concern with her working at the CIA, but while she remembered his older sister Charlotte she never remembered a sister named Suzanne.
"Will's the only one of us who has a sibling," Francie continued. "Amy's a bit younger than he is. Are you the oldest?"
"No," he shook his head. "Charlotte's eighteen months older and Suzanne's fourteen years younger."
"Fourteen years?" Will's eyes widened as Vaughn chuckled. Sydney listened carefully, a sudden guilt twisting at the realization that Suzanne was the baby that William Vaughn was able to have with his wife in a world where her mother hadn't killed him.
"She was my parent's 'surprise' baby," he smirked. "She's a good kid though. She just graduated college and moved to Massachusetts."
"Are you close to your family?"
"Relatively," Vaughn shrugged. Sydney was amazed at the ease in which he was floating through Francie's obvious inquisition. Briefly she wondered if the CIA's security background was as insistent. "I see my father around the office. He's a director overseeing a few of my cases, and I talk to my mother usually once every few weeks," he explained. "Will, Syd said you're a reporter?"
"Yeah," he answered, surprised at the shift in conversation back on him. "I'm not exactly covering the headlines, but I've had several stories on the front page."
"He's won a few awards as well. A few years ago he won an award for best human interest story," Sydney explained proudly.
"Really?" Vaughn glanced at the other man as Will nodded. "What was the story about?"
"A migrant farmer. He was being controlled by just a horrible man. He barely gave them enough food and water, he was happy controlling every aspect of their world, but this man learned how to read, then he taught the rest of them how to read. They were able to read about the rights and opportunities given to them, and eventually they were able to leave and create better lives for themselves, and right now this man is in prison."
"That's a great story," he commented.
"It was really inspirational," Will agreed.
"He's covered some bizarre stuff," Francie commented.
"Really?" Vaughn spoke with a half smile. "Such as?"
Francie leaned over and placed a hand on her boyfriend's arm, "can I?" she questioned as Will shrugged. "My favorite was this woman he wrote about probably . . . four years ago," she considered before she continued. "Will wrote a story about a woman who was pregnant and she was craving newspaper. Literally, she would eat newspaper. I guess it was some legitimate condition but it's still the most bizarre thing I've ever seen," she chuckled as the three others joined her.
"I remember that," Sydney agreed. "That was weird."
"Every reporter covers some weird stories before they make it big. It's part of the territory," Will explained defensively.
"It was a good story," his best friend was quick to assure him.
Francie chuckled, "Just weird."
Their food arrived as they continued to talk. Much to Vaughn's amusement Francie and Will were full of stories of Sydney's years growing up. She remained quiet, at times as wrapped up in her friend's accounts of her own youth as she was in her date for the evening. Much to her own relief Sydney found that she remembered experiencing most of the stories her friends shared, picking up details here and there of how the memories differed. After all that she didn't remember, it was nice to still share so much with her two best friends.
"I hope Will forgets about playing pool," Vaughn confessed, putting his belt buckle into place and turning the car engine on. They'd walked away from Will and Francie mere minutes before at the end of a nice dinner. Sydney had felt at ease as the four of them had slipped into friendship she'd once known.
She looked at him, studying his expression in the dark car as he started to pull out of the parking space. "Why?"
"I almost didn't join the CIA," he began to explain, tossing a brief glance her way. "Instead I almost became a pool hustler."
"Vaughn," she laughed as he grinned widely. "I don't want to say Will's horrible . . . You can't play him," she laughed lightly.
"I won't," he promised. "Your friends are great."
Sydney smiled widely and looked out the window, remembering some of the more embarrassing moments of their many stories. "They are. I am sorry about how Will acted when we first got here," she added.
"Don't worry about it Sydney."
"Thank you for coming."
"I had fun," he assured her. "Francie's restaurant is great. I've never even heard of some of the food on the menu but everything from there smells spectacular."
"Yeah, it is," she agreed.
"So," Vaughn began as they neared her place. "What are you doing Wednesday?"
"I don't think I'm doing anything, why?"
"Wednesday is supposed to be my hockey night," he started to explain. "Except this week we're meeting on Thursday. I want to get some time on the ice anyway, and I wondered if you'd want to come."
The smile that had yet to disappear from her face only grew wider and the twinkle her in eye more pronounced as he parked the car and met her eyes. "I'd like that."
Quietly he got out of the car and met Sydney on her side, holding her hand as they walked towards her front door. "Would you like to come in and have some coffee?" she offered as they arrived at her door.
"I shouldn't," he explained. Vaughn took only a moment to read the disappointed expression on her features and continued, "I can't. I'm supposed to be at my sister's early tomorrow to help my father and brother in law build a shed."
"Okay," she nodded. Sydney studied him closely for a second, suddenly struck by an overwhelming fear of losing him again. He barely had a moment to react before she was in his arms, holding him tightly, her eyes shut as she held him close. They were already so close to sharing the sacred relationship she'd once known, and she wondered how she'd react if they couldn't make it work in this world. So for a few moments Sydney enjoyed the muffled sound of his heart and the steady pattern of his breathing. Vaughn was there, with her, in the only moment she could control. It wasn't everything and they were far away from guarantees and lifetimes but it was enough to make Sydney believe she had something back that she'd nearly lost.
"I'll call you tomorrow?" he questioned with a low voice as he pulled away.
"That'd be nice," she smiled. Vaughn's eyes closely followed hers for a moment before he leaned in and kissed her. This time their contact was hardly brief and even when they broke off from the initial contact his lips brushed lightly against hers a few times. Finally he pulled back, his expression mirroring hers, leaving her certain that one day soon there'd be more. "Bye," she called, walking into the house and closing the door behind her.