"Ugh, I really hate you right now," Sydney groaned as she sat down across from Francie. Her friend raised her eyebrows innocently and pretended not to know what she was talking about, even as she took another sip from the white and green steaming cup. "As if it's not bad enough I have to fix it for Vaughn every morning, you sit here and rub it in," she complained, sticking out her lower lip in a grumpy pout.
"Oh please," Francie rolled her eyes. "You are absolutely glowing, Girl. You've got a gorgeous boyfriend, and you're three months pregnant. Forgive me if I'm not feeling sorry for you just because you can't have caffeinated coffee," she remarked dryly.
Sydney couldn't help smiling a little at Francie's good-natured teasing - she was incredibly lucky. Almost three months pregnant, she was finally looking forward to the second trimester and the end of her nausea, and Vaughn had been absolutely amazing.There were times she grew tired of his constant worry and coddling, but he knew her well enough to know when to back off, and for the most part, he gave her space when she needed it. They had spent the months since learning about her pregnancy just enjoying one another and the joy of expecting a baby, and the new little addition gave them plenty of reasons to stay home together. She and Vaughn decided she would resign as a field agent in another month or two, and pick up her rating again when the baby was old enough to stay with a sitter for the better part of the day.
For now, she kept up with her work, although her father made sure not to send her out on too many missions. After the accident, Sydney made Vaughn vow not to go on any assignments without her, so he was spending more time at home as well. She thought she would hate not being on the go all the time, but she actually found herself enjoying leisurely weekends at the beach and at the movies, and if not for Sloane and her mother, she might actually consider quitting the agency altogether.
Francie forgave her for neglecting their friendship at the beginning of her pregnancy, but now she insisted on seeing Sydney at least once a week. Work had been slow all week, so she took Thursday afternoon off to meet Francie for lunch and shopping before she planned to meet Vaughn for a special dinner. If she was at all bored with the recent lack of missions, Francie more than made up for it with her shopping agenda, which usually wore her out every bit as much as any operation her father or Kendall could design. Though she was only three months pregnant, she had already purchased several essential items, as well as a few adorable little unisex outfits that Francie insisted she buy. For now, she refused to shop in any of the maternity stores, swearing that she would only resort to that when absolutely necessary. For now, she left the top button of her jeans open and wore loose-fitting shirts, though there was only a tiny bulge to disguise at present.
"So where is Michael taking you tonight?" Francie asked curiously, taking another sip of her coffee while Sydney glared at her over the rim of her tea mug.
"He won't tell me," she answered. "I heard him making the reservation, though, and he was speaking in French," she shrugged.
"Okay, stop talking," Francie ordered. "He is just too perfect."
"Francie," she laughed self-consciously. "He's not perfect," she insisted. "Close, but not quite. And his mother is French. He was born there, so of course he speaks French."
"Speaking of his mom," she began conspiratorially.
"Francie," Sydney scolded. "No, he hasn't told her yet. I was hoping maybe that was why he wanted to take me out somewhere nice tonight. He promised to talk to her sometime this week."
"And you haven't asked?" Francie drilled incredulously.
"He's been busy, Fran. I know he'll do it. He and his mom are really close, so he just wants to make it special, I think. He's an only child, like me, so this is a really big deal to his mom."
Francie nodded in understanding, and then raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "So, when is he popping the question?"
"Francie!" Sydney cried. "You're impossible," she laughed.
"What? It's a valid question!" she defended herself.
"I don't know," Sydney admitted. "We haven't really talked about it. We did before we found out about the baby, but I think it's all just been so much to take in. I'm sure he'll do it eventually."
Francie nodded uncertainly and took another sip of her coffee. Sydney lowered her eyes and eyed her friend suspiciously.
"Francie, he will," she insisted.
"I know, I know," Francie nodded. "It just sounds like you're trying to convince yourself."
"That's ridiculous," she shook her head. "I'm not worried."
Sydney expertly changed the subject as she finished her tea, and then suggested that they hit one more store before she had to go home and get ready to meet Vaughn. She tried not to let Francie see how unnerved she was by their conversation, but in truth, she was trying to convince herself that he would eventually propose. Every weekend when he took her out, she was just sure he was going to ask. But he never did. He took her out to fancy restaurants, spent the entire evening treating her like royalty, and then took her home and never said a word about marriage or the future or long-term commitment. At nearly three months pregnant, she still found her ring finger woefully unadorned, but she hated herself for feeling so insecure just because he hadn't asked her to marry him.
They ran in one last store before leaving the mall, and then Francie drove her back to the house. Vaughn was already home and waiting for her, though his shirt was untucked and his tie discarded somewhere between the living room and the bedroom. For a man that practically lived in a suit and tie, he certainly hated the constricting clothing, and always shed the tie before he even made it into the bedroom. They still had another two hours before their reservation, so they showered together and took their time getting ready.
The restaurant was spectacular, and the food was absolutely amazing, but even Sydney would admit that listening to him speak in French was the best part of the whole evening. The earlier conversation with Francie completely forgotten, Sydney thoroughly enjoyed her evening and didn't even think about his mom or wedding rings. The vague feeling of unease remained in the back of her mind, but it was hard to worry about anything at all when he looked at her so intensely and openly demonstrated his affection in the sweetest ways possible. At least for tonight, it didn't matter if she was wearing an engagement ring; the world knew she belonged to him.
"Morning, Beautiful," Vaughn greeted happily as Sydney breezed into the kitchen.
"Vaughn," she chastised. "You let me sleep through the alarm again."
"You need the sleep," he countered leaning across the bar to give her a quick peck on the lips before turning back to the eggs he was scrambling on the stove. "And your dad called…the debrief was postponed until tomorrow, so we don't need to get to work early."
Sydney's eyes scanned his body, noting that he was already dressed and ready for work. "Why were you up so early?" she asked curiously, taking a seat at the barstools arranged in front of the counter.
Vaughn scooped some eggs onto the plate and passed it to her. "Couldn't sleep," he shrugged. "Orange juice?" She nodded, and he retrieved the carton from the fridge.
"Still not sleeping?" she asked in concern. For the last week or so he had seemed incredibly restless, and several nights in a row she woke up to find his place in bed empty and the sheets cool to the touch. She usually found him sitting in the living room going over some work or watching ESPN, and it bothered her that he didn't care to explain why he was up in the middle of the night.
"It's no big deal, Syd," he assured her.
"You're worried," she deduced easily.
Vaughn sat down next to her and took a bite of his own eggs. "About what?"
"I don't know," she shrugged. "Why don't you tell me?"
"Honestly, Syd, I'm not worried," he answered earnestly. "Sometimes I just don't sleep. I'll be fine in a few days."
Sydney frowned and reached out to touch the lines etched into his face. He looked absolutely exhausted, despite the happy smile that seemed permanently fixed on his features now. "Vaughn, you can't keep doing this," she protested. "Maybe you should go to med services and see if they can give you something."
"Sydney, really, I'm fine. We have the weekend off, so I'll relax then. Okay?" he asked with a tiny grin.
"Fine," she sighed. "Oh!" she exclaimed suddenly. "What did your mom say?" she asked excitedly. "I can't believe I forgot to ask you about that!" she berated herself. "Francie wore me out shopping yesterday, and it completely slipped my mind. Was she happy? Is she going to come visit soon?"
Vaughn frowned a little, taking another swig of his orange juice. "I haven't told her yet, Syd," he admitted.
"What?" she asked incredulously. "Vaughn, you promised."
"I know," he sighed. "We've just been busy, Syd. There's so much going on right now."
Sydney stopped eating, stung. He had been so happy about telling everyone else, and he made such a big deal of announcing the pregnancy to Will and Francie and their other friends. She'd been begging him for weeks now to at least call his mom and let her know she was going to be a grandmother in a few months, and he always came up with some excuse. Sydney was beginning to think she would never even meet Vaughn's mom, and the fact that he avoided calling once more left her feeling wounded and disappointed. Maybe it was silly of her, but she just kept daydreaming about meeting Celia and going shopping for the baby together. Granted the history between her family and Vaughn's, their first official reception would probably be cordial, at best, but Sydney was still dying to meet the woman that raised Vaughn. Before her talk with Francie, she had been able to dismiss her nagging doubts as the result of pregnancy hormones, but the fact that someone else noticed his reluctance to commit really bothered her.
"You're too busy to call your mom?" she asked quietly. "We've found the time to tell everyone else."
"I just forgot, Syd," he shrugged uncomfortably, obviously trying very hard to avoid her pointed scrutiny. "I think she plays bridge on Thursdays anyway," he reasoned. "She probably wasn't even home."
No longer hungry, Sydney pushed her plate away and stood up. "I'm going to take a shower," she announced coolly.
"Syd," he pleaded. "Come on, finish eating."
"I've lost my appetite," she answered calmly.
"Sydney, I was busy," he tried to explain again. "I have a lot on my mind. By the time I remembered it was getting late, and I didn't want to bother her."
"Bother her?" Sydney asked incredulously. "Well, it's good to know that telling your mother about our baby will just be an annoyance to her, and apparently, an inconvenience to you."
"Syd…"
"Honestly, Vaughn," she shot back in exasperation. "What are you going to do? Send her a card that says, 'Surprise! You're a grandma!' Or will you just wait until our child's first or second birthday before you decide to tell your mom?"
"Sydney, it's not like that," he sighed wearily. "Come on, let's not fight."
"I've been asking you for weeks, Vaughn! I'm beginning to think you don't want her to know about this," she spat bitterly, horrified to find tears stinging her eyes. She angrily wiped them away, damning her hormones for making her look like an emotional fool. She was trying to keep her cool here and make a point, and now she was going to end up crying in the middle of the kitchen.
"What the hell does that mean?" Vaughn shot back. "What reason would I possibly have for not telling my mom?"
"You tell me!" she shouted.
"You're being ridiculous," he argued. "Would you just sit down and finish your breakfast so we can talk about this rationally?"
"No, I won't," she answered firmly. "I want you to tell me right now why you couldn't call your mom last night and let her know that your girlfriend is pregnant," she challenged him.
"It's just not something I want to tell her on the phone!" he shouted. "God, Syd. She's my mother. I don't want to casually call her up and just happen to mention that I'm going to be a dad. She's waited a long time for this, and I want it to be special. I don't want it to be some last minute phone call. Is that so bad?" he asked in frustration.
"You've had plenty of time to do this," she protested. "If you wanted to make it special, you could have. Instead, you just keep putting it off, like it's some horrible secret." Vaughn's face sank at her words, and she gasped in horror. "Oh God," she cried. "Is that it? Does this have something to do with my mom?"
"Your mom? Sydney, this is crazy," he shook his head. "Why would this have anything to do with your mom?"
"Maybe you don't want your mom to know that this baby's other grandmother was responsible for killing your father," she answered quietly. "Is that it? You think your mom is going to be upset?"
"Syd, please stop," he begged. "You're blowing this way out of proportion. It was just a phone call. I'll do it this weekend, okay?" he tried to placate.
"Answer the question," she demanded, ignoring his attempt at a truce.
"Of course not!" he answered heatedly, quickly growing angry over her refusal to drop the subject. "Syd, I've told you before; what your mother did to my father has nothing to do with us. Our baby will only be related to her biologically, just like you."
"But that's enough, isn't it?" she challenged.
"Stop, Sydney," he warned her.
"You were so excited about this, Vaughn. And now suddenly you won't say a word to your own mother," she pointed out tearfully. "And it's because of my mom. Because of who I am. You don't want to tell your mom because she's going to be disappointed that you let it go this far," she cried.
"This is insane," he stated angrily, abandoning his own food. "I don't know where the hell this is coming from. I haven't done anything to indicate that I'm ashamed of our baby. And if you don't know by now that I love you and I don't care who your mother is, then you probably never will," he remarked bitterly.
"Get out," she demanded.
"Sydney--"
"Get out!" she shouted again.
Vaughn rose and shoved the stool back under the bar. "I can't believe this," he muttered under his breath. He grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair and retrieved his keys from the basket by the door. "You're being ridiculous," he told her again. "I don't know where this is coming from, but when you calm down enough to realise that what you're saying is totally irrational, we'll talk." He stalked out the door, slamming it as he left.
Sydney dissolved into tears as she heard him get in his car and drive away. She hated fighting with him, and she hated that he left still mad at her. She wasn't sure why exactly she ordered him to leave, except for the horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach that told her he didn't want his mother to know about her. Of course, it would be perfectly understandable that he didn't want to tell his mom her grandchild would also be related to the woman that killed her husband, but she couldn't stand to look at him anymore knowing that he was embarrassed.
It all made sense, now that she thought about it. They'd talked of marriage, even if it was only in the abstract, before they found out she was pregnant. But a baby was more concrete. A baby was now, instead of some day down the road. If they waited longer to have children, if they got married first and let his mom get used to the idea of allowing Irina Derevko's daughter into her family, then maybe things would be different. He never talked about getting married anymore, and seemed to shy away anytime anyone so much as hinted a wedding or engagement.
The tears of self-pity continued to roll down Sydney's cheeks as she remembered their conversations about the future. Before the baby, living together, and just genuinely enjoying one another, was more than enough. She wanted to play it by ear and naturally evolve to that point in their relationship. It seemed inevitable that she would spend her life with this man; nothing in her life ever felt as easy or real as loving him. From the casual, playful banter they shared over toast in the mornings to the passionate intimacy at night, they belonged together. Now that a baby entered the picture, completing the perfect connection they shared, she expected him to suggest making this official. She was always imagined herself married to the father of her children, but maybe she'd taken too many things for granted and never considered the possibility that their visions were incongruous. Her goals had been his goals, and vice versa, for so long…what if Vaughn wanted something else? What if having a baby made him realise this wasn't what he wanted anymore?
The stress of the morning suddenly coincided with her body's reminder that there was in fact a baby growing inside of her, and the familiar nausea washed over her. She dashed to the bathroom just in time to throw up the minimal contents of her stomach, sobbing again as she weathered the vomiting alone. He always sat with her and rubbed her back, held her hair behind her face as she threw up her breakfast. When she finally finished, she was running late for work, and barely even had time to shower. She quickly brushed her teeth and jumped in the shower, trying to scrub off the dark thoughts still plaguing her mind.
An hour later, she snuck into the rotunda, hoping no one noticed that she was late, or that she looked like hell. She threw her makeup on in the car, and her eyes remained puffy and red from crying all morning. A huge stack of papers greeted her, and she sighed aloud as she dropped her purse into the drawer and pulled out her glasses.
"Good morning, Syd," Weiss greeted a few minutes later.
"Morning, Weiss," she answered tiredly, not even looking up from the report she was reading.
"Your dad was looking for you earlier. Where have you been hiding this morning?" he asked, oblivious to her foul mood.
"I just got here," she sighed.
Weiss finally took notice of her haggard appearance and plopped down unceremoniously into the chair at the empty desk next to hers. "I already know there's trouble in paradise," he advised her. "So are you going to tell Uncle Weiss what's up or am I going to have to resort to Jack Bristow-esque torture techniques to drag it out of you?" he asked calmly, casually leaning against the desk. He either missed the ever-expanding mound of paperwork currently holding her hostage, or he simply cared more about learning the latest gossip than allowing her to finish her work. Sydney guessed the latter. "Man, you and Mike are perfect for each other. You've got the whole Heathcliff thing going on with the brooding and the sulking and the 'I will get revenge on you and your kin.' Well, maybe not that last part, but definitely the brooding and sulking."
Sydney removed her glasses and laid them next to the keyboard, massaging the tension knotted around her temple that always seemed to get a little worse when Weiss insisted on breaking her concentration. Not that her focus was directed towards anything productive this morning, but his intrusion did interrupt the incessant cogitations rolling around in her mind and demanding her complete attention. "Emily Bronte, Weiss?" she asked wearily.
His brow furrowed and he looked at her in confusion. "Who? I thought Juliette Binoche was in that movie. You know, the French chick?"
Sydney's headache got a little worse. "Pregnant lit major, Weiss," she reminded pointedly. "And as much as I'd love to socialise, I've got about three years of work to catch up on. At this rate, my baby's going to be born in the break room between briefings."
"Ew, mental image, Syd," he groaned. "Couldn't you use an office or something where I don't refill my coffee every hour?"
"Weiss," she warned, growing frustrated quickly. Her irritation with Vaughn now seemed to extend to his friends as well, and she just wanted to get back to playing the morning over and over again in her head.
Weiss sobered at her sour expression and decided to take a different approach. Apparently humour was not an appropriate choice this morning, especially since Sydney's pregnancy hormones and caffeine withdrawals made her slightly less than chipper. "Look, Syd, blind Tom could see there's something wrong between you two."
"Blind Tom?" she asked innocently. "I'm not sure I know him."
"Ooh, Bristow's getting lippy," he raised an eyebrow. "You know, he's been looking just as gloomy and upset as you, Sydney, and we all know that paperwork's not going anywhere until one of you cracks. So I'll ask again: Anything you want to tell me?"
Sydney glanced around at her co-workers, all suspiciously interested in the computer monitors. "Not here," he sighed. "Let me e-mail this report and we can go downstairs and grab some horrible decaf coffee."
Weiss chuckled at the look of disgust on her face, well aware of her firm anti-decaffeinated beverage stance. He loved and truly valued his friendship with Sydney, but he was glad she was Vaughn's girlfriend. He'd hate to be the one reminding her not to touch the coffee at 6 AM. She shut down her computer and stood slowly, still battling the nausea that seemed to last all day now. Weiss grabbed her arm to steady her and followed her down to the cafeteria, leading her to a table and instructing her to stay put while he ordered.
Sydney gratefully accepted the steaming coffee he offered as a peace offering and took a long, slow sip. At least she could still pretend to drink real coffee. Weiss watched her carefully, not wanting to push too hard, lest she explode and just exacerbate the situation. "Does Vaughn ever talk about…us?" she finally asked.
"Uhh…yeah…" he answered tentatively, a little worried about where this was going.
"Does he…does he wanted to get married?" she stammered, stumbling over the words she hadn't actually dared to mutter aloud since France.
"Sydney, I don't understand," Weiss said simply, frowning in consternation.
"He hasn't said anything, Weiss," she whispered tremulously. She held her cup close, absorbing its warmth as she fought a shiver. "I thought he wanted to marry me, but now we only talk about the future when we talk about the baby." One hand fluttered to her stomach, seeking out the increasing curve where her child grew. She was still barely showing, but to her, the swell was obvious.
"Sydney," Weiss sighed, shaking his head. "You NEED to talk to him," he stated seriously. "Vaughn is crazy about you. Really. I've never seen him like this, and I've known him a long time. You're it for him. You can't tell me you don't see that."
Sydney looked down, ashamed for some reason. "I do," she said softly. "I know he loves me. I just don't understand, Weiss," she trembled desperately. "What am I doing wrong? Why doesn't he want to marry me?" Tears sprang to her eyes once more and she wiped them away sheepishly. Usually only Vaughn saw her cry, but lately, she was so susceptible to breakdowns that any audience was fair game for her waterworks.
Weiss reached across the table and claimed Sydney's hand, squeezing it tightly in a noble attempt to comfort her. "Hey," he murmured. "You haven't done anything. This is all a misunderstanding, Syd. Nothing more than that. You need to talk to him. Please promise me you'll talk to him. Take a long lunch or something and tell him what's going on." Sydney nodded, unable to speak for the time being. "What did you fight about this morning?" he prodded gently.
"His mom," she managed. "He hasn't called her and I just…I freaked out, Weiss. I thought it was just another indication…"
"Just talk to him," Weiss urged once more, knowing Vaughn would immediately assuage all her fears and melt the tension created by her uncertainty and insecurity, and then probably feel like a total ass for not seeing it before. "He really loves you, Syd, and he's so excited about this baby. You just need to tell him how you feel, because I guarantee you he has no idea."
"Okay," she agreed weakly, nodding her head in acceptance of his suggestion. "I should get back to work if I'm going to take a long lunch," she sighed. She gathered her jacket and coffee and looked at Weiss appreciatively. "Thank you, Weiss," she said meaningfully.
"Hey, it makes my life a hell of a lot easier when you two will actually speak to each other. I'm just looking out for my own sanity here," he grinned.
"Well then, thank you for being selfish," she chuckled. "I'll see you later."
Weiss just shook his head, amazed by the complexities of this relationship. Vaughn had been concocting plans for months now, and then put them on hold lest she draw assumptions about the timing of his proposal. He couldn't have possibly predicted her reaction, and of course Sydney said nothing, allowing her fear and doubt to slowly simmer beneath the surface, only to leak out as anger and irritation. No wonder they looked so miserable.
Tossing out his coffee cup, Weiss returned to the bullpen, not quite ready to resume his work. He easily located Vaughn, who was still trying in vain to look hard at work. "That report interesting?" Weiss asked, glancing at the briefing Vaughn was reading.
"No, not really," Vaughn answered without bothering to look up.
"Really? Because it's the same on you were reading…" Weiss trailed off, looking at his watch. "Over an hour ago. Must not be TOO bad."
Realising he was caught, Vaughn leaned back in his chair and looked up at his smirking friend. "What do you want, Eric?" he growled irritably.
"Nice way to greet your best friend."
"Are you just here to rub in how horrible this day has already been? Because it's only eleven, and I wish I just hadn't gotten up this morning, so anything else you say would really just be superfluous, unless you're hoping to get a head start on tomorrow."
"Have you ever seen that movie with the French chick--"
"What do you want, Weiss!" Vaughn demanded again.
"I just thought you might want to know your girlfriend's really upset, but I don't think you're really interested…" Weiss began.
"Weiss," Vaughn sighed, listlessly throwing his pen at the desk. "Look, I'm sorry. It's been a really shitty day." He looked imploringly to his best friend, hoping he hadn't ruined his chances of hearing what Weiss had to say. He felt bad for using Eric for information on Sydney, but at this point, he didn't know what else to do.
Weiss pulled up a chair and sat down across from Vaughn. "Whatever happened between you two, she's not trying to be difficult. You need to talk to her, but I will tell you she's really shaken up. She promised she would come to you, but if she doesn't, please, just go to her," he beseeched.
Vaughn's anger melted away, replaced by the familiar protectiveness so instinctive when it came to her. She really pissed him off this morning with her absurd accusations, but the thought of her hurting and upset tore him apart. Had he been too wrapped up in his own frustration to notice something really wrong? More importantly, could she forgive him and let him help her after their rather passionate argument? "Is she okay?" he asked worriedly. "Where is she?" He grabbed the back of his chair, ready to jump up and search for her right this second.
"Whoa, Casanova, cool it," Weiss calmed him. "She's fine. She said she'd take a long lunch with you, so give her another hour."
Vaughn nodded and relaxed in his seat, though his face remained taut with concern. "Thanks, Eric," he said dismissively. Weiss clapped him on the back and finally returned to his own oppressive stack of work.
Vaughn tried to focus on chipping away at the reports so he might actually get home at a decent hour, but he couldn't help wondering if he'd have another lonely commute and a long, restless night on the couch. Maybe if he grovelled enough, she would forgive him and curl up in his arms as they reconciled. He grinned a little, remembering the perks of fighting with Sydney. Then, feeling guilty for lusting after her before even resolving their issues, he forced himself back to work.
A little before noon, Vaughn caught the unmistakable whiff of her gardenia perfume and her strawberry shampoo and looked up to see her standing timidly in front of his desk. He might have chuckled at her nervous expression in any other situation, but currently, he felt sickened by her sudden discomfort with him.
"Do you have a minute?" she asked uncertainly.
"Syd, of course," he smiled reassuringly, the anger of the morning completely dissipated as he stood up next to her. Despite the colleagues all around, he couldn't resist brushing away the pesky strand of hair perpetually in her face and kissing her forehead. "Are you okay?" he asked softly. "Weiss told me you were upset about something. I was worried."
Sydney seemed slightly taken aback by his tenderness, still expecting a chip on his shoulder after their heated argument. "I don't know," she answered honestly. "Are we okay?"
Vaughn smiled again, his expression soft, and took hold of her hand. "We're always okay, Sydney," he assured her. "No matter what stupid fights or ridiculous arguments we have, we will always be okay."
His words brought fresh tears to her eyes, and this time, he laughed just a little. Wiping at the moisture on her cheeks, he pulled her into a rather conspicuous embrace in the middle of the ops centre. He really didn't care who was watching; at least a public reconciliation would kill the vicious rumours already circulating about the status of their relationship. "I'm sorry," Sydney choked, crying into the shoulder of his navy blue suit. "I don't know what's wrong with me."
"It's okay, Syd," he soothed. "You're pregnant. You're entitled to unexplained bouts of crying," he teased.
"Can we just get out of here?" she asked.
"Sure. You need your jacket or anything?"
Sydney nodded and let Vaughn retrieve it for her while she cleaned off the remaining tears and gathered her composure again. She shouldn't be surprised by his big heart and capacity for forgiveness after all this time, but she knew she'd been incredibly unfair this morning and expected him to at least act a little perturbed by her sudden change of heart.
Vaughn returned and draped her jacket over her shoulders, and then wrapped his arm around her affectionately. They both breathed a sigh of relief at the ease with which they slipped back into old habits. He had grown much bolder in his loving demonstrations at work, fully taking advantage of Jack's reluctant acceptance. While the older agent still shot him death glares from time to time, he also understood the unspoken familial bond created by the baby.
They walked silently to Vaughn's car, neither needing to say a word about lunch. He helped her inside, noting the pale complexion trademark of her morning sickness. He didn't hear her throw up this morning, but suspected that he missed that part of her routine.
"This okay?" he asked as he pulled up to an outdoor café not far from the office.
"Perfect," she answered. "I'm starving."
"Did you keep any breakfast down?" he inquired, feeling guilty for not knowing the answer.
"If you count the decaf latte I had with Weiss as breakfast, then yes, I did," she said wryly.
"Somehow I doubt reminding you that it should go away in a few weeks will really make it any more bearable," he commented apologetically. He hated being sick and couldn't begin to imagine handling the nausea like she did. They spent most mornings in the bathroom waiting for the heaves to subside, and then just relaxing for a few minutes while he massaged her tired, sore muscles. "I'm sorry I wasn't there this morning when you got sick" he added remorsefully.
"I'm the one that kicked you out," she reminded him.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Let's order first," she suggested. "I'll be able to think better when I know food is on the way."
They chatted pleasantly as the perused the menus and placed their orders, catching up on the day's events since they hadn't talked all morning. Sydney remembered again why her fears were largely unsubstantiated. As much as she loved Francie and Will, Vaughn was her best friend now. He knew every part of her, even the hidden secrets not even her closest friends or her father knew. She loved talking to him and just hearing the mundane details of his day.
Once the waitress disappeared, Vaughn sobered, though his smile remained. Despite the unresolved tension, she looked so relaxed and content now. Her face regained some colour, along with a radiant glow enhanced by the sun, and her eyes appeared bright and clear. A twinge of pride bubbled up in his chest, and he couldn't wait until she showed a little more and the world knew she chose him. In less than a year, a high chair would sit around the table as well, a beautiful little girl or boy giggling happily and reaching for him or Sydney. And that's how he knew they would get through whatever upset her; he could see their future. "You're beautiful," he told her simply.
Sydney blushed self-consciously and looked down at her rather plain suit, the top button of her pants open and her oversized white oxford concealing the slight protrusion of her stomach. She hadn't yet resorted to maternity clothes, and her makeshift outfit hardly fit the workplace chic bill. The added weight didn't really concern her, but she certainly didn't feel beautiful at the moment. "You're crazy," she laughed in self-deprecation.
"No, I'm serious," he countered. "You look amazing, although I will admit I'm a little biased."
Sydney stared at him seriously, her gaze steady and penetrating. After a moment of studying his features, she looked away, shaking her head in disbelief. "I don't deserve the way you look at me," she said quietly. "Especially after the way I acted this morning."
"Sydney," he breathed sympathetically. "It was one argument. It doesn't change anything, okay?"
"Okay. But I'm still sorry. I was horrible this morning. I understand why you want to wait to tell your mom, and I know you're not ashamed of the baby. I shouldn't have brought my mother into it. I'm really not sure why I did," she admitted.
Vaughn flinched a little at the mention of Irina Derevko for the second time today, but he grabbed her hand under the table anyway. "Maybe you need someone you can talk to about motherhood," he suggested gently. "I was thinking about it earlier when I was pretending to do my work," he grinned. "This must be so crazy for you. Most women talk to their moms, and you don't have that. You really don't have anyone that knows how you feel. It's my fault for not realising earlier why you felt so strongly about telling my mom, and if you want to talk to her, I'll set it up," he promised. "I was actually thinking of driving down there to see her when we get a free weekend so we could tell her in person. That's why I was putting it off, but I didn't want to tell you because you know how our work schedules can get. I didn't want to plan it and then disappoint you."
"Vaughn," she whispered in awe. "Thank you so much. You have no idea how much that means to me. And you're right; I think there is a part of me that wants your mom to be a replacement for mine. But honestly, that's not why I got so upset," she confessed, taking a deep breath. "I got scared when you seemed reluctant to tell her about the baby because I felt like you might be putting it off for another reason."
"Why wouldn't I want to tell her, Syd?" he prodded. "You know I'm thrilled about this baby. I want to rent a skywriter or something," he joked, trying to lighten the mood.
"Because I thought maybe you weren't thrilled about me," she finally said, her voice so soft he had to lean closer to hear.
"What?" he asked in alarm. "Syd, why would you think something like that?"
"It's so stupid," she shook her head sadly.
"Have I done something wrong, Sydney?" he asked, almost afraid of her answer. "Did I do something to make you think that?"
"No," she answered easily. "No, it's nothing like that. I just…I thought you might want to get married now," she finally blurted. "You haven't said a word about it, and I guess I just assumed you would. We have a house, we'll have a baby this fall, and I thought it was time. But it's really okay, and I understand if you're not ready for that."
"Syd, you should have said something," he scolded gently.
"I just didn't want to pressure you," she reasoned. "But Weiss convinced me this morning that I needed to tell you."
Vaughn stared at her in bewilderment before finally just dissolving into laughter.
"You think this is funny?" she accused, stung by his reaction.
"NO! No, Syd," he placated. "It's just that we were both so off here. I've had a ring for months. Literally. I got it a few weeks before Paris. I was planning to ask you while we were in France, but then you couldn't come with me. Then we found out you were pregnant, and I was afraid you would think I only asked because of the baby, so I decided to wait. I wanted to make sure you knew it was about you, and not just because I got you pregnant."
Sydney stared him, not even blinking. "I…you…what?" she stammered.
Vaughn chuckled again and squeezed her hand. "I thought when things settled down a little I could make it really special. And that is the ONLY reason I have not asked you to marry me. But I will, Syd. Whenever you want. The ring is in my dresser drawer, so say the word, and it's yours."
Sydney gaped at him in shock and sudden shame. "Oh God," she moaned. "I ruined your surprise."
"You didn't ruin anything," he protested vehemently. "If it's what you want, we can go home right now and get the ring. Hell, I'll even marry you today."
"You still want to marry me after the way I acted?" she asked doubtfully.
"Syd," he chastised. "We had a fight. Couples fight. I can't say I enjoyed it, but it's over now. So how about we forgive each other – and ourselves – and move on."
The server arrived with their food, momentarily silencing the conversation. Sydney immediately tore into her sandwich, no doubt famished since the last meal she kept down was an early dinner the night before. After swallowing a few bites to appease her growling stomach, she looked up and smiled sheepishly at Vaughn, who was enjoying his food at a much more leisurely pace as he watched in bemused affection. "Something funny?" she asked.
"Nah," he shook his head. "But you're cute when you're ravenous."
"Only then?" she taunted.
"All the time," he corrected. "So what do you think?" he asked uncertainly, returning to their previous topic of conversation. "Should we elope on our lunch break? I'm sure Kendall wouldn't mind us coming back a little late if we explained that we were busy saying our vows."
"He wouldn't mind firing us either," she pointed out.
"But we have Jack Bristow on our side," he reminded her. "And I'm convinced that Kendall is scared of your dad."
"Vaughn, my dad is tolerating you, but I doubt his acceptance would continue if you whisked me off to the Justice of the Peace on our lunch break. And I was kind of counting on you to be around to help me raise this baby, so I don't think you should give him any extra motivation to dispose of you," she advised, half-serious.
"I can't tell you how happy it makes me that your father is perpetually on the lookout for a reason to kill me," he said dryly.
"He won't," she promised. "He loves me too much to get rid of you."
"Well, that's a relief," he smiled. They shared a loving look for a moment, and Vaughn reached over the table again to grab her hand. "So maybe eloping is a bad idea," he began, "but do you…do you want to get engaged?" he asked uncertainly.
Sydney laughed at his nervous question, finding the whole situation so ridiculous. They always did everything so backwards; they already admitted to each other they wanted to get married, and now they were dancing around the actual proposal. "Are you asking me to marry you, Mr. Vaughn?" she teased, deciding to have a little fun with this.
Vaughn squirmed in his seat while he tried to concoct an acceptable answer. "Um, that depends."
"It depends? On what?"
"Are you saying yes?" he questioned seriously, all hints of jest gone from his voice. "I know this isn't exactly the most romantic way to go about it, but as long as you're saying yes, I don't care," he promised. "We can go home and get the ring and make it official."
"Let's wait, Vaughn," she suggested quietly. "Let's do this right. I want you to have your surprise. Now that I know it's coming…"
"It is, Syd," he interjected for emphasis.
"Okay then," she nodded. "I'll be waiting. Besides, I think we should wait until after the baby is born to actually get married. Pretty soon I'm going to need maternity clothes," she grimaced.
"That's a good thing," he reminded her. "Rings can be ambiguous. Everyone will KNOW you're mine when you're showing," he said proudly.
His beaming expression warmed her heart, chasing away all the lingering feelings of doubt or insecurity. The only way to interpret the look upon his face was sheer devotion, and his insistence on postponing the romantic proposal he planned for months just out of concern for her assured her that he was in this for the long haul, no matter who her mother was or what horrible words she threw at him in the midst of her confusion and tumultuous mood swings. "I love you, Vaughn," she said simply.
"I love you, too, Syd," he replied sweetly.
They finished eating their lunch, and then took advantage of the extra time to stroll up and down the street hand in hand. He swung her arm lightly, and they walked in silence, just enjoying the companionship. "Are you sure that morning sickness is gone?" he asked innocently as their lunch break came to an end.
"What?" she asked in confusion. "Why? Do I look sick?"
Vaughn eyed her critically. "You are a little pale," he answered seriously. "Yeah, you're definitely turning a little green," he nodded. "There's no way you can go back to the office. You should call your dad and tell him I'm taking you straight home."
Sydney caught the gist of his "concern" and smacked his arm. "We can't skip work," she laughed, despite her earnest attempt to look stern.
"Why not?" he asked with a pout. "We had a fight, Syd. It's only fair that we take the proper amount of time to fully reconcile before we try to go back to work."
"Don't worry," she grinned seductively. "We'll make up tonight."