Yeeeep, it's been awhile. But this month has been hectic, and Monday I had surgery to take my appendix out, so that just kinda put a stop to my life for a couple of days. But now I'm back to (almost) normal, and back with an update:)

I sat in the kitchen drumming my fingernails mindlessly on the countertop as time went crawling by. Since yesterday at the stadium, absolutely nothing has happened, which doesn't surprise me. I'm pretty damn happy though, bored, but happy, because no going into the CIA offices today. They had been analyzing the data of Sark's conversation and going through all of his records which they could find, which just left Vaughn and I on the waiting game for right now.

Speaking of Vaughn, he decides to make an appearance, stalking in from the living room which is now in his words called Sports Central...yeah.

"Hey."

"Huh? What? Oh, hi," I snap out of my thoughts and sound like an idiot. In front of Vaughn. Damnit.

"You seem to be pretty...Distracted," He said, and I'm guessing he's trying to break the 'tension.'

Now I remember what I wanted to do! It involved home shopping and a television. My lips curved into a smirk as I sent a challenging glare his way. He definitely seemed to notice, and it was a race to the couch, and the remote that lay on it.

Seeing the couch within jumping distance, I launched myself into the air, landing on my stomach and covering the remote with my body. Sadly, that didn't stop Vaughn as the couch sank even more when he landed right on top of me.

I thought of the possibilities: Me. Vaughn. Couch. Position. But those seem to fade away quickly when my lungs start to burn for air and I can feel that certain tingle which means that he's doing a pretty damn good job at cutting off my circulation. "Vaughn," I squeaked out, thankfully within a second I could take a deep breath when he rolled off of the couch. After regaining most of my senses, I searched under my body and found the remote crammed between the cushions, and saw Vaughn staring at it like a dog with a piece of meat.

"Syd?" He looked up with that face. Eyes widened, the sad look showing through. Okay, this is it, feelings for other people is definitely being taken off my weakness list, like now.

"Fine...After I get in this order," I said, switching the channel from the baseball game to a home shopping channel. He let out a groan, a sigh, and a whimper before I even had a chance to write down any information. "Look, I've been waiting for three weeks for this to be shown. You can wait two minutes, okay?" He decided to gaze at me while I wrote down the information, my usually good handwriting turning into complete chicken scratch under his powers.

"Take it," I growled, handing over the remote when he beamed, turning the game back on and lounging back on the couch. Maybe just seeing him like this wouldn't be so bad after all.

Before I could get involved in some random baseball game, my cell phone began it's loud ringing, and not wanting to bother Vaughn out of his man phase, I bolted from the room with the cell phone in hand. Once I finally saw who it was, I let out a shriek of happiness before answering.

"Francine Calfo!"

"Sydney Bristow!"

"Thank you!"

"Where are you?"

"Away with..."

"Hot guy Michael, I got the note!"

"Yes, he's in the other room right now!"

"Room!"

Oh boy. Francie didn't exactly know the details of the trip. Okay, so the spy skills get lost in the occasional girl chatter, so what?

"Um, y-yeah," I manage to stutter, and smack myself on the head afterwards. Damnit, I can come up with something! "It's gonna be awhile to get this job done so were housed up."

"So right now you're with the man you've been talking about for months?"

I wish I could be in LA right now to smack Francie senseless, but that would require me leaving this house, and oh yeah, Vaughn too. That is not happening, even for my best friend. "You summed it up."

"Sydney!"

I froze, silently cursing myself now for not putting a muzzle over Vaughn's mouth so I could talk to Francie in peace. One thing that I had grown accustomed to in these leisure days was Vaughn telling me every single thing about sports, and this was probably going to be another lesson.

"Is that him?" She said, so low that I had to cram the phone into my ear to hear.

"No, it isn't Francie, it's just some random man that I am with," I take a moment to let it sink in that sometimes my friend can just ask the dumbest questions. "Yes, it is him."

"I'll be right there, Michael," I say to Vaughn after covering the receiver with my hand. "Francie, just a sec."

Stepping into the living room, I at least tried to look annoyed as Vaughn looked up at me. He saw the expression and his face just about fell. I pointed to the phone and walked back out to the room, continuing the conversation with Francie for a couple of more minutes before she had to go off and torture Will.

"Vaughn, I swear," I growled as I walked past the living room and into the kitchen to search for food. There was one thing that the CIA forgot to stock in the Pimp-House, and that was food. Yes, maybe some for a day or two, but when a hot couch potato happened to be living in the same house, food would be scarce.

So what does that lead up to?

Shopping!

With Vaughn!

Yes!

"Vaughn!"

As I expected, and after looking at my watch, Vaughn was in the kitchen within five seconds. I opened the fridge and pointed inside, and like reading my mind, he knew exactly what I was thinking.

"Sydney, no," He began, his lip pouting out as he looked at me like a lost puppy. Oh gosh. Hell no. I'm not falling for it.

"Do you know how much we have to buy?" I asked, knowing the answer he'll give, or the face that he'll give. "You're coming; you can watch the game later. We have every imaginable channel, I'm sure they will show it again."

"Alright," I could hear him mumble as he turned on his heel and went upstairs. I smirked, looking into the bare fridge, and even made the lame attempt to look into the pantry to find a few lone boxes of cereal and spaghetti.

Time for fun, Vaughn, time for fun.

xxxxxxx

"Gosh damnit, urg, gah, man," The string of curses and incoherent words continued to pour from Vaughn's mouth as we walked into the very large supermarket and got a shopping cart. I let the poor man push it through as we started down the first aisle.

"So what do we need to get?" He asked, eyeing the foods as he walked past.

I stood at the left of the cart, guiding it to make sure he didn't run off. "Just about everything in the store," At this, he stopped, and it was right at fruits so I began my work at picking out good tomatoes and such while Vaughn just looked at me, this territory probably foreign to him.

"The kitchen can't be that empty," I heard him complaining, and then heave out a sigh. I shook my head and began tossing various fruits into the shopping cart.

"Guess what Michael, dear, it is that empty," I said, and couldn't help but to grin as he showed a frown. "Yep, this could be awhile, get used to it," I walked over to him and patted his shoulder.

We began to walk again, now down the next aisle as the bottom of the shopping cart was filled with all of the essential fruits to keep us mostly healthy. I know that Vaughn would definitely change that in a matter of time when we went into the snack area.

But my whole body seemed to stop when a hand found its way onto my lower back, slowly sliding it's way and placing it on my waist. When I regained control of my legs and shakily tried to keep up with Vaughn, I saw the cheeky grin on his face. Oh, if this was his form of torture for me, the man has no clue.

I could only grin back as I looked forward and slid my hand into the butt pocket of his jeans, giving him a nice squeeze. He jumped, letting out a nice yelp in response, and earning some stares from an elderly woman across from us.

"My husband here just figured out he really doesn't like the ketchup."

The old woman could only shake her head and laugh in response as she moved on. Once she was out of hearing distance, Vaughn whipped his head around and scowled at me, a motion that just made me smile.

"What's wrong honey?"

"Absolutely nothin'," He said through a forced smile, then leaned his body into mine and placed a soft kiss on my forehead. Oh gosh, come on, can we just drop at it and go down on the floor right now? Look at the signs! Wait, we're acting married, let's do that in the household too now! I looked at him dumbfounded when he started to move again, eventually moving me also because of his arm around my body. "What's wrong? We need to shop."

Ugh, damnit, urg, gah. Great, now I'm beginning to act like him! I tried to think of ways to get back at him but my mind became a jumbled up mess when his hand began to stroke my side slowly, then moved onto my back. "Hey Michael?" My usually strong voice resembled a mouse squeak. Yes, I could become that pathetic under him.

"Hmm?"

Now I figured out if I wanted control of something, I'd take over his sole obsession. "If you don't let me do the shopping, I control the television for a week."

Vaughn's hand immediately stopped, and even though I craved that touch, I craved food much more. Considering that living off of pizza and beer for the next few days wouldn't suffice because of our extra activities.

Our shopping continued in silence, filled with the best of sexual thoughts, at least on my side.