Sydney emerged from the medical wing of the JTF changed, renewed. The sunny skies of Los Angeles appeared even brighter today, the December chill a little less threatening, and the whole world just a little more alive. Taking a deep breath, she inhaled the city and the blue skies, relishing in the crisp air tickling the back of her throat. Since the tender age of nineteen, planned and dreamed for days like this, but years on the job jaded her, and she truly stopped believing her fantasies could ever become reality. The moment she stopped indulging her daydreams, suddenly everything fell into place, just as she'd always hoped. That seemed to be happening a lot lately. The last few months had been nearly euphoric with Vaughn by her side, despite continual annoyance with Sloane, frustration with Kendall, and emotional turmoil with her mother. Her burgeoning relationship with Vaughn didn't eliminate any of those hassles from her life, but coming home to his gentle kisses and falling asleep in his protective embrace certainly eased the sting and made surviving each crisis worthwhile. They hadn't even spoken the words yet, but he loved her. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt the depth of his feelings for her, and if she hadn't known before, she certainly would now. He practically confined her to the bed after her bout of vomiting the day before, and refused to entertain any notions of allowing her to accompany him on a relatively simple courier mission to Paris. Sometimes the intensity of his adoration terrified her, and even more, the fact that she reciprocated every overwhelming emotion sent her mind into hyper-drive.
But not anymore.
Now that love created something tangible, something incredible. Their teamwork crumbled the Alliance and forever etched their names in CIA history – legacy enough for any agent – but that history told a tale of lies, danger, and destruction. Of course she derived a certain pride from their accomplishments and their uncanny ability to feed off each other for the good of the country, but bringing down SD-6 didn't complete her life the way this new development would. This product of their undeniable chemistry and seamless partnership brought life instead of ending it, and it meant more to Sydney than any Agency commendation ever could.
Fingering the cell phone in her pocket, she considered all the people she needed to call. Francie, Will, her father, Vaughn's mother, Weiss…hell, she wanted to run up to the roof and shout her wonderful news to all of LA. But first, she needed to tell the man that made it all possible, that encouraged her every step of the way, that never let her fully surrender all her hopes for the future.
As if on cue, her phone began to buzz. She fought the instinctive urge to groan, knowing it was probably Kendall or her father begging her to come in even though Vaughn arranged for her to have the day off. On any other day she might not mind a few hours of distraction, especially since Vaughn would not return until well after dinner time, but right now, national security was the last thing on her mind. She fished for her phone and grinned in delighted surprise when the LCD screen flashed her boyfriend's code name. He teased her mercilessly when he discovered her phone book listed him as 'Vaughn,' so she jokingly changed it to 'Boy Scout' just to nettle him.
"You must have ready my mind," she said by way of a greeting. "I was just thinking about you."
She could have sworn she felt his contagious smile across the ocean and through the phone. "Yeah, but I could have called anytime and you would say that," he retorted cockily.
"Dream on, Boy Scout," she laughed happily.
"We'll talk about my dreams later," he murmured huskily. "But how are you feeling? What did the doctor say?" Instantaneously, Playful Vaughn disappeared, replaced by Concerned Vaughn. She always knew he worried about her, and Weiss told many tales of their drunken exploits during her mission, but his anxieties quickly escalated to epic proportions as soon as they started dating. Strangely enough, his protectiveness only increased her affections for him, though she would never tolerate the same behaviour from anyone else. True, she hated his coddling in the professional arena, but his devotion beyond the confines of the office made her feel cherished, not belittled. The fact that he could separate tough-as-nails Agent Bristow from everyday Sydney and still love both diametrically opposed entities just proved he understood her better than anyone.
She had been perturbed by his insistence on going solo to Paris, but mostly she just hated to let him leave for a foreign country without her. This newfound dependence startled her a little, but they'd only been together for six months now, so she told herself it was normal to feel unsettled during separations. "I'm fine," she assured him. "Just a little something I picked up," she managed to say with a straight face. "Are you heading home now?"
"Yeah, I'm in the cab now. You sure you want to pick me up tonight? I can get Weiss to do it if you're too tired."
"Don't be ridiculous," she protested. "I don't feel sick anymore and I can't wait to see you. I'll come get you at the airport and then we can have a late dinner. I can fix something, or we could go out, if the jet lag isn't too bad."
Vaughn hesitated before answering, and his next words sounded a little strained. "I've done this a million times," he said softly. "I'd love to go out."
The sudden lack of enthusiasm in his voice temporarily disarmed her. "Vaughn? Are you okay? What's going on?" She stopped walking and held the phone a little closer to her ear, trying to make out the voices in the background.
"Everything's fine, Syd. But I think I need to-"
A squeal of tires suddenly blared in her ear, cutting off his response and causing her to cringe in pain. Fear gripped her heart in a crushing vice as crunching metal crack through the lines, filling her mind with horrific images. A car horn emitted a long, mournful howl, and then there was nothing. Please God, no! she prayed frantically. Let him be okay, please!
"Vaughn?" she cried desperately, hoping by some miracle he hadn't hung up the phone. She needed to hear his voice assuring her he was fine, that it was just a little fender-bender, that he would be home as scheduled. "Vaughn, talk to me, please!" she begged again. "Michael, you have to be okay!"
She heard a soft moan at her last urgent plea, but it was so quiet she couldn't be sure it was him. It sounded so far away, and she knew he'd probably dropped the phone. A few seconds later, a ragged breath filled her ear as he struggled to speak. He coughed harshly, but she could only sigh in relief, knowing he was still alive. "Syd?" he whimpered weakly.
"I'm here, Michael," she soothed immediately. "What's going on? Are you okay? God, Vaughn, are you hurt?"
He hesitated again and her heart lurched in her chest. "Truck…" he began. "Crash…gas…" he rambled. She caught the meaning of his words and fought to stay calm.
"Listen to me, Michael," she commanded. "Get out of the car NOW. You need to get out."
"My arm," he groaned. "Shit, Syd."
"Vaughn, listen to me!" she shouted. "You HAVE to get out of the car. Someone will be there to help you soon but you have to listen to me and get out of there."
"Ok," he agreed. She heard him cry out as he struggled to comply, but then their connection suddenly died. A sob erupted unbidden from her throat, nearly sending her to her knees in the middle of the crowded sidewalk. Concerned faces drank in the sight, but she fought away several gentle touches, trying to restore order to her mind.
Okay, Sydney, he was talking to you, she reminded herself. He sounded confused and scared, but he did talk to her and follow her orders. Now he needed her to be strong and do everything she could to get him home safely. Her breathing steadied out as much as possible, and rational thought tempered the growing hysteria in her head. She regained enough control to run back into the building, all but forgetting the joyous news of just an hour before.
Jack Bristow spotted his daughter's wide-eyed and tear-streaked face right after he finished shouting his own commands into a headset, and he immediately flung off the equipment and bolted to her side. She looked like she would go down any second. Her tenuous grip on control melted as soon as her father embraced her. "Daddy!" she sobbed as he held her close.
"Shh," he soothed. "There was another Agency car behind Vaughn's. He got out of the car before it blew up. They're taking him to the hospital now. He's in good hands, Sweetheart."
"He was talking to me," she continued to cry. "He called me and we were talking and I heard the crash. I heard it, Dad."
Jack wisely said nothing, but continued to hold her. The agent he'd just spoken to advised him of Vaughn currently unconscious status, but Sydney hardly seemed prepared to handle that news. He knew the younger agent would be fine, but if Sydney knew just how close she came to losing him, he wasn't so sure she would be alright. She would be better off not knowing until she could see him face to face, lest her imagination run wild and concoct a multitude of horrible scenarios.
"Dad, I have to go to Paris. I have to be there for him," she begged.
"Okay, Sydney," he agreed, unable to deny her broken plea. "I'll make all the arrangements, but you need to promise me you'll relax and stay calm in the meantime." She nodded hurriedly, and he passed her over to the care of Agent Weiss, instructing him to sit with her and give her water.
Weiss led her to Jack's office and forced her to drink a bottle of water. She was trembling horribly, her face pale and drawn. Vaughn would kill him if he let her get sick over this, so he wrapped a brotherly arm around her shoulder.
"Eric, he's going to be okay, right?" she asked in a tiny voice, wavering slightly. She never reacted like this, especially in the field, but the thought of losing him just when everything seemed perfect completely wore her to the bone, and all her old fears of abandonment ran rampant.
"Of course, Syd. The only person I know more stubborn than you is Vaughn. He'll be fighting with the doctors before you know it. But he would hate to see those tears," he added gently.
Sydney quickly wiped her eyes before Weiss could do it for her. That was always Vaughn's job, and she wasn't going to let anyone else do it until he could. For a brief moment, she considered telling Eric about her prior discovery, but she wanted Vaughn to know first. She wanted it to be their little secret, just for a while. Something they could share and celebrate alone before letting the rest of the world in. Besides, her father would never let her jet off to France like this if he knew. Vaughn would probably kill her for being so reckless, but that was a consequence she'd welcome with open arms just to see him for herself and sit by his side until he could come home with her. She'd known for a long time that she loved him, but the last few hours proved just how much she needed him.
"Sydney?" Jack interrupted her ruminations. "The plane's waiting. Are you ready to go?"
She nodded and rose, fighting an insidious wave of nausea accompanying her movement. Her father led her to the airstrip, and then followed her onboard. She knew his presence was not solely for her benefit. He stepped up to the plate in her times of trouble, but Jack Bristow simply did not fly with his daughter to France to see her injured boyfriend just to provide emotional support. First, he didn't even possess the emotional intelligence required to play the supportive father role, and second, he would never miss work for something so frivolous.
It was a hit. She was supposed to go with him, ride in the car next to him, and now he was in a hospital somewhere in Paris. It didn't take a genius to deduce there was more to this than a fluke traffic mishap. Coincidences just didn't occur in her life.
Sydney's astounding propensity for guilt kept her mind busy throughout the entire flight, berating her for putting him in this much danger. For the sake of the life inside her, she was thankful he'd forced her to stay home. But if not for her, if not for the love she bore for him, he wouldn't have been a target. Loving her made him fair game for any of her numerous enemies. Whatever happened to him, whatever injuries he sustained, culpability belonged to her.
Jack left her to brood, knowing nothing he could say or do would aide this particular situation. She pretended to sleep most of the flight, but she kept hearing the crash over and over. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw vivid flashes, crimson blood, the bright orange fire erupting from the car. She knew Vaughn was resting safely in a bed, far away from the horrors of the accident, now protected from anyone wanting to do harm to him. But part of her mind just kept the images rolling like a film reel, taunting her with everything that could have happened if he hadn't called her at that moment, or if he'd been a split second later climbing out of the car. Moving her hand to her stomach, she wondered briefly what she would have done with the baby if she lost him. Her little son or daughter would always remind her of the man she loved more than anything, and once more, a child would grow up without a parent. She and Vaughn always swore to right all the wrongs of their families, but only a few seconds and a serendipitous phone call kept them from repeating the cycle all over again.
Sydney always loved landing in Paris, even though she never actually had the time to enjoy the city. She almost laughed as the plane descended, remembering how upset she'd been that Vaughn didn't let her come along. Secretly, the minute Kendall handed them their assignment, she began planning their romantic day around the city. She ended up spending the evening with Vaughn in Paris, but it wasn't quite the way she'd planned. Sighing aloud, she squeezed his hand once more, allowing her other hand to drift back to her stomach. He still lay quietly in the narrow bed of his hospital room, a little pale and covered with little cuts where the glass hit his skin. A white cased encased his left arm, and a small bandage covered a wound on his temple. Monitors attached to him beeped steadily, but an oxygen mask rested over his mouth, obscuring part of his face and preventing her from greeting him properly with a grateful kiss. She cried softly as a doctor listed his injuries like a mechanic reading off the details of a damaged car. Lacerations, broken arm, low grade concussion, bruised ribs, and smoke inhalation from the explosion. Her rational mind knew he would be just fine and that his injuries weren't that serious, but she'd feel a hell of a lot better if he told her that himself.
Sydney picked up his right hand and squeezed gently, hoping he felt it and knew she was there. His sleep seemed peaceful, but she hated the forced sound of breath entering his lungs through the mask. Even though it was only a precautionary measure to combat the smoke he'd inhaled when the car caught on fire, she still needed to see for herself that he could breathe on his own.
"Vaughn, I'm here," she whispered, hoping he might hear her encouragement and decide to join her once more in the land of the living "I need you to wake up so I can tell you something really important," she tried again. "I need you to wake up so I know you're okay. Come on, Michael, open your eyes." She continued to speak quietly, tears dripping silently down her ashen cheeks when he failed to respond. Still, he slept.
After several hours of hushed meetings and secret planning, Jack scoured the hospital corridor for his daughter and Vaughn. He found Sydney sitting uncomfortably in a blue plastic chair, crying weakly while she held her lover's hand and spoke in gentle whispers. He knocked softly on the door to avoid startling her, and then stepped inside. In an unwonted display of affection and sympathy, he laid a caring hand on her shoulder and squeezed it tightly.
"He's not awake yet, Dad," she murmured fearfully. "He's been unconscious since he came in."
"You know he'll be fine, Sydney," her father said reassuringly.
"I know…I really do. I just…I keep hearing his voice. He was so confused and scared. I just want to hear him talk so I can stop remembering." She closed her eyes, hoping to ward off the memory of his frightened words.
"I know, Sweetheart," he sympathised. "But he'll wake up when he's ready, and he'll want to see you rested and smiling when he does. Let's go find something to eat. You haven't had anything all day."
Sydney shook her head in protest. "I can't," she rasped. "I need to be here when he wakes up."
"You will be," he assured her. Looking down at her, he realised how much worse she looked than when he dropped her off here hours ago. Her face appeared far too pale, the normal flushed colour drained from her cheeks. She trembled slightly, and Jack quickly surmised that it was more than fear causing her to shake. "Sydney, you're white as a sheet," he said in concern. "Come on. You're not staying here unless you eat something and drink some water." He offered his hand, and she hesitantly accepted his help. She considered arguing with him and insisting on staying with Vaughn, but she did feel a little sick, and she knew it had been foolish to ignore her needs.
The moment her feet supported her weight, a sudden wave of dizziness overcame her, causing her to falter slightly.
"Sydney?" her father asked in alarm.
She took a deep, steadying breath and closed her eyes against the pain taking up residence in her skull. "I'm fine, Dad, Just stood up to fast." She tried to prove her assertion by walking towards the door, but her head felt light, disconnected from the rest of her body. The last thing she saw was her father breaking her unexpected crash to the floor.
Vaughn woke up with a vague discomfort nagging his fuzzy brain and an agitating plastic mask over his face. The fluorescent institutional glow bothered his eyes, but whatever the hell was on his mouth definitely needed to go. He attempted to move his hand to the offending object, but found it anchored to the bed by a stiff weight covering his arm. In frustration and confusion, he tried the other hand, relieved when it functioned properly and complied with his wishes. He clawed away the mask and took a gasping gulp of air as oxygen momentarily eluded him.
"Careful, Agent Vaughn. You might need that."
Oh God, not again. Vaughn recognised the cold, dry voice, and it belonged to the last person he wanted to talk to right at this very moment. He considered closing his eyes and pretending to be unconscious again. He'd been dreaming that he heard Sydney's voice, but obviously he had the wrong Bristow. A nurse shuffled into the room and he felt her place a plastic tube under his nose, immediately followed by the cool relief of oxygen piping into his body. He waited for her to leave before turning to Jack. "Where the hell am I?" he demanded, though his voice came out as a tired whisper. He suddenly coughed, the pain in his lungs excruciating as he did so.
"Give yourself a minute," Jack suggested calmly.
"Jack, what's going on? What am I doing here?"
"Do you remember the accident?" the older agent asked.
Vaughn racked his brain, suddenly remembering bits and pieces of the day -the mission, talking to Sydney, seeing the truck, the crash, Sydney's voice breaking the darkness and urging him out of the wreckage, and then nothing. He nodded weakly, mentally assessing the damage. The cast meant a broken arm; the hammers against his skull indicated a concussion…
"You're going to be fine," Jack told him. "You may be having a little trouble breathing because you swallowed a nice amount of smoke when the car blew up."
"Great," Vaughn commented wryly. "I guess that explains why my lungs feel like they're on fire." He thought he caught a glimpse of almost fatherly concern from the hardened man, but it disappeared before Vaughn could even question it. His thought immediately turned to Sydney; he could have sworn he heard her voice. "I thought I heard Sydney earlier," he said without thinking, forgetting for a moment that he probably shouldn't so openly acknowledge the fact that Sydney consumed a great portion of his subconscious, especially to her father.
"Don't look so sheepish, Agent Vaughn," Jack said dryly. "I have a feeling it will soon be public knowledge that you and my daughter are…involved." He smiled like he knew something Vaughn didn't, and Vaughn suddenly felt immensely uncomfortable. This was the second time he'd woken up to Jack Bristow's smirking face, and he didn't particularly want there to be a third. "Sydney's here," Jack continued, "but she can't see you right now. She was sitting with you earlier. You probably did hear her."
"Is she okay?" Vaughn asked in concern, no longer caring what Jack knew. Sydney was too hard-headed to leave unless someone or something forced her to do so, and neither explanation made him feel any better.
"She's a little tired."
"Don't bullshit me, Jack," Vaughn growled. "Where is she?"
"Down the hall in another room. But you're not going anywhere, so just relax."
Vaughn felt his blood run cold, and he sat up straight despite the pain. "What happened? Is she alright? How the hell did she even get here?"
"She insisted. I'm sure you know how hard it is to deny her anything when she makes up her mind," he commented pointedly. "She was too worried about you to eat or drink anything all day, and with all the throwing up she's done recently, it was too much for her to handle. She collapsed about an hour ago, but she and the baby are fine. They're just getting her rehydrated and rested."
Vaughn sighed in obvious relief that she was okay before fully allowing the words to sink in. "Wait! The WHAT?" he asked incredulously.
Jack couldn't contain his tiny smile. "I don't know if I should congratulate you or wring your neck," he remarked, only half joking. "But seeing as you're already in the hospital, I guess I'll settle for congratulations."
Vaughn blinked. Then blinked again. "Oh my God! Are you serious? How long? Can I go see her?" He began to rip the needles out of his skin, determined to climb out of bed immediately and find Sydney, despite his spinning head and aching body.
"Stop, Vaughn," Jack commanded forcefully. "You need to wait for the doctor. I already had to admit Sydney for being reckless on your behalf. I don't want to explain to her why her boyfriend has to stay in the hospital for another week." He struggled visibly with the word 'boyfriend,' but the recent revelation must have softened the stony agent considerably, because he still hadn't made any attempts on Vaughn's life.
Hearing the commotion from the room, the doctor entered, followed by the nurse that attended Vaughn earlier. The doctor spoke a little English, but Vaughn encouraged him to converse in French. His still sluggish brain comprehended the words of his mother tongue a little more easily.
"Any pain, Mr. Vaughn?" the doctor asked, lifting the edge of the bandage on his temple.
"Just a little," Vaughn admitted. "My arm is sore and I have a headache, but it's really not bad. I feel fine." It wasn't entirely the truth, but the pain really didn't matter right now. He could take some pills later, when Sydney was in his arms and they could rest together. She was his first thought when the truck hit his car; he knew she'd heard everything. He pictured her alone, clinging to the phone, desperate to hear his voice affirming that he was okay. Even as the pain shrouded him in blackness, he kept that image in his head, giving him the motivation to stay awake long enough to get help. The idea that he might not ever see her again absolutely destroyed him and kept him clinging to consciousness. He had to survive just to see her face once more. Now he had another life to live for, and he didn't want to waste another second.
"I believe you're acquainted with another of my patients down the hall," the doctor smiled knowingly.
Vaughn's face lit up proudly. "Yeah, she's my girlfriend," he confirmed.
"She was very worried about you," the other man noted solemnly.
"Yeah, we're good at that," Vaughn chuckled.
The doctor continued his examination, pressing gently on Vaughn's head, checking for any undetected injuries. "Well, you have a Grade 2 concussion, Mr. Vaughn. I know you want to see Ms. Bristow, but I should warn you that the pain will be pretty intense when the adrenaline wears off. I would suggest staying put for the night and visiting with Sydney tomorrow."
Vaughn shook his head, not at all persuaded. "I'm fine. And I can relax with her."
"In that case, I just need to check your lungs before I can let you leave. Any coughing?"
"Just when I first woke up."
The nurse helped him sit up straight while the doctor listened to his lungs with a stethoscope. "Well, Mr. Vaughn, everything sounds okay. We're going to give you some medication, but if you have any trouble breathing, you need to return right away. Understood?"
"Understood," Vaughn nodded seriously.
They disconnected him from the monitors, IVs, and oxygen tube and handed him a prescription bottle of pills. His clothes sat in the chair in the corner of the room, looking a little worse for wear, but Sydney had the foresight to request his suitcase to be sent over from the car. Jack handed him his luggage and directed him to the bathroom. He wobbled just a little, but did his best to remain steady. He wrestled with his sweater, struggling to pull it on over the cast and then fasten it in the sling. The inability to use his right arm made the entire process of getting changed awkward and exhausting, and he finally emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later, a little pale from all the effort. As soon as he stepped into the hospital room, Jack pointed a wheelchair.
"You've gotta be kidding me," Vaughn groaned.
"Do you want to see Sydney?" he asked rhetorically, a small smile indicative of the perverse pleasure he derived from this little power trip.
Enjoy it while it lasts, Jack, Vaughn thought wryly. I am now OFFICIALLY a permanent fixture in your daughter's life. Whether Jack Bristow accepted it or not, Vaughn had just become a full-fledged member of the family. With that knowledge in mind, he allowed Jack this last little feeling of triumph and sat down in the wheelchair.
Sydney's room was just a few doors down from his, and Jack allowed him to move to the chair beside her bed before leaving. He closed the door behind him, allowing the two as much privacy as they could get in a hospital. Vaughn waited until the older agent disappeared from view before fully drinking in the sight of his sleeping girlfriend.
An IV ran into the back of Sydney's hand, but she was otherwise untouched by medical equipment. She looked startlingly pale amidst the white sheets, and he raised his good hand to her cheek just to reassure himself. The soft contact roused her ever so slightly, causing her to smile dreamily and lean into his touch. Even that tiny involuntary movement thrilled him. A year ago, sharing more than a too-brief, stiff hug with the beautiful woman before him remained an opium dream, entirely out of reach. He knew he'd never been good at hiding his growing affections for her, but he'd started to wonder during those long months if she would ever heard the words and truly understand the depth of his emotions. He relied on cryptic messages and fleeting glances to speak the words deemed inappropriate by their professional relationship, and even maintaining eye contact for more than a few seconds stirred far too many impure thoughts. If he'd allowed himself to imagine loving and being loved by Sydney Bristow, he never would have been able to look at her, work with her, keep her safe.
A little over six months ago, he tasted the wonder of her lips for the very first time .He realised then all he'd felt for her in the prior two years only scratched the surface of his true feelings. He felt more content than he ever dreamed possible, and his life seemed strangely complete with her in it. Every day after, he'd fallen a little more in love.
Three months ago, he finally screwed up the courage to ask her to move in. Separate apartments were really just a formality since they spent every night together, but he still knew what moving in together symbolised. It had taken several nights of heavy drinking with Weiss to even make the decision to try, and another few to figure out what to say. Even that night at dinner, he'd almost lost the battle with his nerves, just barely managing to keep his food down when he proposed the idea over crème brulee at her favourite restaurant. She lit up brilliantly and immediately agreed, laughing in delight when colour returned to his cheeks. "Did you really think I'd say no?" she'd asked, amused by his sudden lack of confidence.
After a month of joint residence, Sydney started dropping hints. He realised the moment he began hauling in her boxes that his apartment was far too small for two people, and it was a little farther from work now that they spent most days in the JTF. He bought it when he was still involved with Alice, and he immediately turned it into the quintessential bachelor pad for the sole purpose of discouraging moving their relationship any farther along. He loved having Sydney with him all the time, but with their combined possessions, living space was a little cramped. He never expected his spy girlfriend to resort to subterfuge in relationships, but she masterfully planted tiny, indirect remarks about buying a house into casual conversation.
Fully intending to play along with her little scheme, he acted unaffected by her words. During his rare moments of spare time, he surreptitiously looked through real estate listings for a suitable home. Two months ago, he found it – the PERFECT house. A short drive from work, the realtor promised it was just the right investment for a new couple. It had a nice backyard and a picturesque façade, plenty of room and a nice layout, and instinct told him she would love it. So he went out on a limb and bought the house, despite Eric's warnings that he'd finally lost his mind. He then tossed out the idea of checking out the property, just to consider the possibility of buying a home in the future, and staged a visit to the house, carefully monitoring Sydney's reactions.
"I love it, Vaughn," she gushed. "This is just the kind of place I pictured."
"I like it too," he agreed casually. "It seems pretty perfect. Maybe we should consider it."
"Are you sure? You're not just saying that because I like it?"
"No, I really do love it. The fact that you feel the same way just seals the deal. Honestly, I wasn't expecting to like it so much, but now that we've seen everything, I think maybe we should go ahead and make an offer."
"You're kidding me," she stated incredulously. "You really want to?"
"Why wouldn't I?" he laughed.
"Oh my God!" she marvelled. "We're really going to do this!"
"Actually," he grinned, "we already have." He reached into his pocket and extracted a small box. He flipped open the lid to reveal a shiny silver key tied in a bright red bow.
"Vaughn," she gaped. "You didn't!"
"I saw it and it just seemed so perfect. You're not quite as sly as you think, Bristow," he teased. "I knew you were dying to get a bigger place. You don't mind that I did this without you?"
"God, Vaughn…" He cupped her face, surprised to find tears streaming down her cheeks. "Vaughn, this is the most amazing…"
Smiling at the memory of that day, Vaughn reached out and stroked Sydney's face. "Sydney," he whispered. "Syd, wake up."
She moaned quietly and blinked her eyes against the bright lighting. It took her several moments to focus on her face, and her smile instantly took over the moment she recognised him.
"Hey Gorgeous," he whispered reverently.
"Vaughn! You're awake!" She pushed herself up to a sitting position to better examine him. "You should be in bed," she reprimanded, taking his hand from her face and holding it between both of hers.
"Well, I heard a little rumour, and I had to check it out for myself." He moved their joined hands to rest on her stomach. It was still flat, but he wondered now how he hadn't noticed the small curve before; he knew every inch of her. "God, you are so beautiful," he breathed.
Sydney's eyes glimmered with tears of joy as he gently explored her changing body, marvelling with sheer wonder that a child was actually growing inside of her. She planned to deliver this amazing news over an exquisite meal and a quiet evening alone, but just seeing him safe beside her more than made up for the unfortunate turn of events. And of course, they would never forget celebrating in a hospital room in Paris. "Are you happy about this, Vaughn?" she asked, needing to make sure.
He laughed mirthfully in response, risking his unsteady knees to stand and gently kiss her lips. He smoothed the hair away from her face and proceeded to cover her skin with tiny kisses. When he finished, she gingerly helped him climb into the narrow bed next to her. She snuggled underneath the crook of his good arm and laid her head on his chest, revelling in the beat of her heart. This was the sound, the feeling, the comfort she'd needed since the moment she first heard the crashed. "I'm more than happy, Syd," he sighed contentedly. His chest suddenly seized and he coughed painfully, grimacing at the searing heat in his lungs. Sydney twisted in his arms, deftly manoeuvring around her own IV to hold him and steel him against the harsh jarring. "I'm okay," he rasped, holding out a hand to cease her ministrations.
"Vaughn, you shouldn't be up," she chastised. "You should have waited for me to come to you."
Vaughn smiled ruefully and pointed to the tube in the back of her hand. "Sort of like you should have for the last five hours?"
She blushed slightly and looked away. She wasn't used to being in anything less than top form, and now she had practically no control over her own body. The unexpected vulnerability scared her a little, and she realised the enormity of the situation for the first time. "God, this is going to change everything, Vaughn."
"Only in the best ways," he assured her, stroking her long hair currently somewhat tangled against the scratchy sheets. "We're going to be parents, Syd."
"Yeah, we are," she agreed, smiling in bemusement at the absolute incredulity in his voice. "I'm due in September, though," she groaned. "Do you know how horrible it's going to be to be VERY pregnant during the summer in Los Angeles?"
"Well, maybe we'll just have to take a little time off," he grinned mischievously. "Find someplace a little more…comfortable…for the last few months."
Sydney rolled her eyes at the implication in his words. "Vaughn, sex is going to be the last thing on your mind when I'm seven months pregnant."
"We'll see about that. But how do you feel? Are you okay?"
"Oh God, you're already starting," she teased. "You know you're going to die young if you keep worrying like this, right? And our son or daughter is going to need a dad, so stop."
"Syd, if stress was really going to kill me, I would have been dead a long time ago," he noted.
Sydney suddenly sobered and huddled further into his embrace. Confused, Vaughn kissed the top of her head and allowed her to cuddle against him. "New subject now," she whispered. "I almost lost you today and I don't really want to think about it."
"Syd," he breathed sympathetically. "I'm fine. You saved me. You told me to get out of the car and I did, for you. You saved my life, Sydney. And you know I won't leave you."
"Promise?"
"I promise."