Part 2
Vaughn's eyes opened slowly and he realized that his face was very cold while his body was warm and cozy. Looking up through the dim light that peeked through the top of the window he could only vaguely make out the bedroom of the safe house as the memories of the previous day, and night, caught up to his fog-addled brain.
Looking down just to verify, Sydney was indeed sleeping against his shoulder and their bare bodies were flush and warm underneath the blankets. He still felt tired, but knew it was because of the overexertion from the previous day's activities. Sighing into the air, his breath billowing steam above them both, he made sure the blanket was tucked around his agent as he sat up, the chill instantly trying to dig under his skin. Spotting a wood stove in the corner of the room, a pile of logs lying beside it in a metal basket, he decided it would be worth the cold trek to find supplies and start a fire.
Maneuvering around to the edge of the bed he sat for a moment in the freezing room before standing quickly and grabbing his discarded sweatpants from their spot kicked to the floor. He looked around for his shirt, finding it on the opposite side of the bed, and pulled it over his shivering frame. Doing enough of the buttons to keep the chill at bay for a moment, his muscles ached and he stretched a bit, his back popping a few times.
Turning, he peeked over at Sydney, the fan of her disheveled brown hair on the pillow and a soft gentleness to her features as she slept making him smile. 'Nothing between us will ever be the same, and I'm not sure either of us really cares.'
Vaughn made his way on chilled feet into the living room, the fireplace long extinguished due to a lack of fuel, he reached for several of the long matches on the mantle and a few handfuls of newspaper from many years past. Quickening his step back to the bedroom, he found Sydney stretching as the blanket slipped down to reveal her soft shoulder. She instantly shivered and yanked it back over her head with a groan.
"Why is it so cold in here?" Her question was muted by the blanket over her face, and Michael chuckled, walking over to the stove.
"No central heating. I'm going to write the landlord a strongly-worded letter," he complained facetiously hearing a giggle from beneath her temporary shelter.
He got the fire going and the room slowly began to warm. The shrill beeping of the satellite phone in the living room made Vaughn hurry to catch it knowing it could be Jack with an update on their extraction. Holding it to his ear he answered, "Vaughn."
"Good morning. I trust you and my daughter are still well in the safe house?"
'Why does it feel like he already knows?'
"Yes. She's still sleeping in the other room and I'm trying desperately not to freeze to death on the couch. Any update on our extraction?" His lie was hopefully believable, though Jack didn't comment on it further.
"Unfortunately everything is grounded for at least another day. The problem here lies in my cover story with Sloane. I notified him that Sydney had made contact but was injured and couldn't get the intel. He asked if I was handling her extraction and I confirmed, but this delay is going to make things difficult at SD-6."
"Meaning?"
"He'll likely want to 'rescue' her to get her back to L.A. faster than the CIA could get clearance for a chopper."
"What can I do?"
"At the moment, I need to know if you have all of your equipment with you."
"No. Sydney's tactical bag was left at the Jeep once we hit snow too deep to drive through. With the injury to her leg I had to choose between carrying her or the bag."
"Retrieve it. If Sloan calls for an extraction at the cabin and they find Sydney's things in a CIA-issue vehicle, she'll be dead before the plane lands."
Michael walked to the door and peeked through the small window. It was softly snowing though the sky was a bright white that nearly blinded him. It was a lull in the storm however, a boon on which they would have to capitalize. "Okay…"
"Why the hesitation?"
"It's two miles to the Jeep through thigh-high or deeper snow and the current temperature is negative thirteen degrees."
"It's Sydney's life, Agent Vaughn. It's also an oversight you both seemed not to take into account."
"You know, Jack -" Vaughn started as his ire began to rise, though he pushed it down and heaved a sigh and checked on the winter clothes that he'd hung in front of the fireplace. Thankfully everything was dry and he nodded taking inventory of the gear. "I'll see what I can find around here that will make the trek faster. I'll check in once the bag is retrieved. Contact us if anything changes with SD-6, I'll need to make myself scarce and get any trace of me out of this cabin if Sloan sends a team."
"I'll be in touch."
The phone call ended abruptly and Michael rolled his eyes while carrying it back into the warming bedroom. He made sure the call was definitely disconnected before glaring at it. "I slept with your daughter last night, Jack." His growl made her laugh as she stayed wrapped in the blanket up to her nose.
"That would have been great," she grinned, her dimples poking out.
Vaughn chortled as he set the phone on the nightstand to her left and crawled back into bed. "So I have to go out and retrieve your bag," he explained, her hands pulling his chilled body under the lifted cover and against her nude figure. "It's freezing everywhere except for under this blanket."
"Then stay in the blanket," she grinned and pressed a soft kiss to the dimple on his chin before peppering kisses along his scruffy jawline.
He sighed and sank into her embrace, the warmth she'd been storing seeping through his clothes and into his skin. His hands splayed across her back as hers took their place against his shoulder blades. Her leg ached though she was getting accustomed to ignoring it, compartmentalizing the pain since it was a constant throb and not sharp stabs. Lifting it caused the muscles to protest, but they relaxed as she hooked her knee over Vaughn's hip, effectively taking the tug off the wound as they lay on their sides.
"If we only have one day until we have to go back to being Agents Bristow and Vaughn, pretending we don't even know each other, I'm going to make the best of it."
Michael closed his eyes at the sincerity of her words as a bolt of excitement went straight from his heart to his groin, a soft agreeing mumble leaving his throat as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder. "How's your leg?" His question was marked by his left hand moving to trace the softness of her calf up toward her thigh as it lounged over his hip, skipping the wrapped gauze and continuing up her waist to grip and pull her lower body into contact with his.
"Fine," she mumbled as her hands reached the front of his shirt, deft fingers undoing the buttons from the bottom up as her fingernails skimmed across the taut skin of his stomach and chest. Sydney pulled her head back and pulled him into a languid kiss, her tongue flicking against his lower lip before he responded slowly. As much as he hated breaking apart from her mouth and body, he knew the lull in the storm wouldn't last. Now was his best chance to get the pack and get back before things got nasty again.
"Okay," he murmured, pulling away and seeing her frown. He gently lifted her leg and slid out, his erection pushing insistently against the loose fabric of the sweatpants. "I have to go get your bag before the storm starts back up."
"What's the worst that happens, Vaughn?"
"SD-6 sends a unit to retrieve you because Sloan gets impatient; they find your things in a CIA-issued vehicle, and murder you horribly before you walk into your apartment. I'm sorry, okay? I'll be as quick as I can. Besides – if you keep this spot right here warm and toasty, I'll stay put for at least 24 hours when I get back."
He leaned back down over the bed and caught her lips once more before rising and moving out into the hallway. The bedroom felt balmy compared to the cool air lingering just outside the closed door, though at this moment it felt soothing against his overheated skin. He gathered the gear up and walked it back to the bedroom. She was in the process of sitting up, a frown of pain stretched across her face as she lifted her right leg up with her arm in an effort to keep the muscles from pulling at the ache throbbing below the wrapped gauze. Though the wound was a little less than two inches wide, it had embedded in the muscle of her outer thigh and gone at least three inches into her leg, the depth causing the ache as the muscles pulled at the stitched skin. The sheet pooled around her waist leaving her breasts bare, and he had a moment of regret at leaving the bed before anything more happened between them.
"I'm gonna scrounge around, see if I can find some painkillers somewhere in this damn cabin," he grumbled, moving to her side and grabbing a few extra pillows to slide underneath her thigh as a prop. The room was a perfect lounging temperature, and he tossed an extra log onto the fire just to keep the heat coming. By the time he turned back, the blanket was tugged back up to her shoulders and she regarded him with a lazy smile, her head resting against the old oak headboard.
He couldn't resist and leaned down to cup her cheek and press his lips against her forehead. She was right – if they only had a day or so with no limits on contact he was planning on kissing and touching her as much as possible.
He returned to the bathroom and tossed open the medicine cabinet, the mildew-laden wood creaking against the rusted hinges. The shelves were empty and a frustrated grumble bubbled up from his chest. Yanking the drawers open one at a time, he was rewarded by a single unopened bottle of Ibuprofen rattling and rolling in the last drawer. Though the bottle had expired over a year ago, he hoped it would still be effective since the seal was unbroken.
"We're in luck," he grinned and twisted the cap, the bottle pouring orange pills into the palm of his hand. "They're a little expired, but let's see how they work. I'll go make some soup before I head out."
Pulling a bottle of water from his pack he cracked it open and deposited the pills and the bottle into her open hands. "Thanks, Vaughn."
"I miss when you call me Michael," he grinned as she blushed with an eye roll, his laugh following him out of the room.
Lunch was short and afterward he helped her dress, caresses and kisses passing between them before he started putting on layer over layer in preparation for his trek back to the abandoned Jeep. Locating a wood-carved walking stick in the closet of the bedroom he handed it over to Sydney as she attempted to keep as much weight off of her leg as possible.
She hobbled behind him to the front door, his gloves in her warm hands. "Please be careful. If it gets too bad or if you don't feel you can make it come back. I can't come get you if you freeze in the woods. We can always try again tomorrow."
Michael nodded with a wide smile on his face as he leaned in and smothered her lips with a kiss. "I'll be back soon. I'm thinking about an hour at the most since I don't have to carry someone through the snow this time. Keep the bed warm, okay?"
She flashed her dimples as he tossed the door open to exit. The heat was sucked out past her legs and the negative temperatures made her shiver. After his departure she set out to explore the cabin, the painkillers kicking in and dulling the ache, though it never fully dissipated. Thankful for the walking stick, she moved to the other side of the living room and pushed open the sliding slats serving as a closet door. Behind the flimsy particle board she discovered piles of extra blankets and pillows, yanking them out one at a time and arranging them on the couch she made a little nest.
The living room was cold, Sydney taking a break from her exploration to toss some of the wood into the fireplace and start it up. Heat radiated toward her cold hands as she fanned the low flames until they raged against the stone hearth. Heading into the kitchen she found, by her estimate, another forty cans of soup, though also running across an expired and likely quite stale batch of spaghetti noodles. Still, the carbs would serve them well, especially after Vaughn's trek to the Jeep and if they kept their intimate activity up. If they were spending the night and day sleeping the soup would be more than enough to keep up their energy high, but she wasn't exactly planning on getting much sleep, so extra food intake was a necessity.
Under the sink she hit the jackpot – a box filled with hot water heating packs. The red rubber was aged, though not cracked, and she set out to find enough water to heat to boiling so she could fill as many as possible before Vaughn made it back.
The water running from the tap was a trickle, and it was freezing, a clear indicator that the pipes leading up from the well were mostly frozen. "Well…snow and ice melts," she ground out leaning heavily on the walking stick. Making her way to the front door she tossed it open as the cold air once again invaded. Large icicles hung from the awning, and she reached up with the stick to knock several down before she slid them into the foyer and closed the door behind her. Sliding them into the kitchen she placed the stick against the cabinets as she leaned against the counter to swing down and pick up the ice.
Turning on the stove, thankful it hadn't run out of gas, she tossed the ice into a large pot to begin the melt before making her way back to the front door to repeat the process until the remaining icicles were out of reach beyond drifts of snow. "Damnit," she growled, the ache of her leg turning into a throb at the constant movement despite her effort at staying off of the wounded limb.
It wasn't going to be enough water to fill more than three of the heating packs. She closed the door and looked around the living room, her eyes falling to the little shovel next to the fireplace. It was dirty with soot and ash, but it would serve her purpose nicely. Hefting it up she opened the door once more and scooped at the snow, leaning over the counter and sliding the snow into the warming pot until it was full.
She repeated this process until a dozen of the bags were full and hot to the touch. Leaving the remaining water hot on the stove she took turns with the bags in the pot making sure they would be warm and ready by the time Michael returned.
Two and a half hours went by and the growing worry in her stomach had her twisted in knots. 'He should have been back by now.' The storm had picked back up about forty minutes earlier, and her visibility through the little window on the door was essentially to three steps off the porch, his footprints already covered.
A thud against the door made her jump and she regretted leaving her gun across the room by the couch.
"Syd…lemme in," Vaughn's voice rasped loud as he could.
Sydney grabbed one of the warm pouches from the counter and tucked it under her arm, and moved quickly to toss the door open and allow him to spill into the cabin as the wind whistled and snow blew hard behind him. She helped as much as she could, pulling him in far enough to close the door to keep in the warmth of the cabin. She'd been feeding the fire enough to make the temperature in the living room and bedroom down the hall sweltering, the sleeves of Michael's button-up shirt rolled up to her elbows in an effort to not overheat herself.
"Vaughn, are you okay?"
He knelt on the stone floor gasping for air as snow and ice fell from his clothes in chunks. He nodded his response, tossing her bag to the left into the living room as he held his hands up, wiggling his fingers as much as he could. She pulled the closest wooden chair over to his kneeling form and sat, the stick discarded against the couch. Yanking the gloves off she saw his red, swollen fingers and knew without touching his hands how cold they were.
"Hold this," she ordered, Michael clutching the warm rubber with a shivering delighted groan. She pulled both the hat and thick balaclava off of his head and pressed a warm kiss to his sweaty and cold brow. Tugging the cloth neck of the coat down from over his mouth and nose, ice coating the inside where his breath had condensed and frozen, she noticed that his lips were blue around the edges. She knew she had to get him out of these clothes and into the heating pads as fast as possible.
"Damnit, Vaughn. I said not to push it." Removing the warm pouch from his hands, Michael groaning as he missed the warmth, she unzipped the outer jacket and the inner coat before pushing them off of his shoulders onto the floor behind where he knelt. The sweater underneath was sweaty and cool, though over his chest it was warm. He knelt before her topless, his chest and arms red and splotchy and as she set her hand over his heart she felt it pound with exertion after trudging four miles, two out and two back, through massive snowdrifts.
"Can you stand for me?"
He nodded, his teeth knocking together, and though it took him two or three attempts, he rose on shaking legs as his hands found her shoulders in an attempt to keep his body upright. She made quick work of the snow pants and the tactical jeans underneath and they lay in a pool of cloth, snow, and ice at his feet. Sydney untied his boots and used her left foot to step on the toe of one at a time as he lifted his legs out and stood in stocking feet and boxers in the room. The wool socks were insulated and surprisingly not wet, so she left them on to keep his feet warm against the wood floors.
His whole body was a giant twitching and shivering pile of muscles as it tried to generate as much warmth as possible. Balancing on her left foot she stood, keeping off her right as it hovered above the floor, and led him with a slow limp over to the couch. He fell into the nest and she placed the heat pad back into his frozen hands.
"Put this against your chest, okay? I'll be right back." Sydney pulled the blankets over his head and around his shoulders, effectively swaddling him with the heating pouch.
As fast as she could she went to the kitchen and turned off the stove before grabbing a prepped box filled with the rest of the heating pads, she limped into the bedroom where another cocoon was waiting. Placing one inside the pillowcase and the other ten strategically where he'd be lying, she tossed another log into the woodstove to keep the heat on and made her way back out to the living room, nearly knocking him over as he stood in the hallway with the blanket around his shoulders and the red rubber against his chest.
"I – I can't g-get warm, Syd," he mumbled through chattering teeth and she put herself between him and the wall, using it as support while dragging him into the warm bedroom, kicking the door closed behind them to keep the heat inside.
She got him in and situated on the bed, his groan of pleasure as he came into contact with the heating bags making her smile. She used the bed as a crutch and hopped to her side before shedding her clothes and slipping under the blankets, Vaughn's hands between their bodies still clutching the hot bag.
"It's okay, I've got you." Sydney pulled him close, keeping his head on the pillow as she pressed her warm body against his cool skin. His head slid forward, forehead against her collarbone, and she could feel his jaw clenching and unclenching over and over again. Michael's breathing was in short pants against her breasts as he dropped the pouch between them to slide his hands forward and wrap around her rib cage under her arms. Shivering against the frigid fingers she scooted the rest of the way against him and pulled his quaking body close, her arm over his tucking his hands between her arm and side.
Her leg was throbbing, but there wasn't much she could do about it at the moment. Raising and hooking it over his hip she felt the coldness of his thighs and backside against her calf. After a few minutes his breathing began to calm and she realized he'd fallen asleep. As time passed the shaking tapered away, her hands wandering over his back feeling the warmth seep into his body. She grabbed the closest hot bottle and held it against the back of his neck while making sure the one he'd dropped between them was firmly against his stomach, held in place by her own body.
She felt like she was going to burst she was so hot. Sweat beaded on her forehead and she felt a few wayward drips travel down her neck, but she wasn't going to move until she knew he was alright. If that took hours swaddled in four blankets with a dozen heating pouches and a wood oven going full throttle, that's how long it took.
Sydney set her cheek against his forehead and closed her eyes, though sleep was elusive as she tried to stay conscious enough to hold the bottles against his body. Her fingers slid idly through his short hair and she smiled as she thought of the hundreds of times she'd imagined running her hands in this same way through his neat cut. Two hours passed and the wood stove began to die down, Sydney knowing she'd need to rise and toss in more fuel if the room was to stay hot.
Loosening her hold on his body she grimaced as she lifted her leg, the pain shooting up to her hip and catching her a bit off guard at the intensity. Pushing past it she pulled away, Michael's hands tucked under her arms tightening and keeping her in place as he lifted his head to fix sleepy green eyes on her soft features.
"I didn't mean to wake you. I was just going to put more wood on the fire," she admitted with a soft whisper as her breath fanned his forehead. He didn't respond, merely brushed a kiss against her collarbone without releasing her from his grip. She propped her leg back up over his hip with a wince and settled into his arms with a soft resigned sigh. If the entire room was freezing at least they would be warm under the blankets.
His eyes were closed again and she thought he'd drifted off until his hands slid further around her back pulling her closer. Vaughn's head moved up and he pressed his face into her neck peppering light kisses against her throat. Rubbing her soft cheek against his temple she closed her eyes and sank into the tingling feeling that was radiating from deep in her stomach.
Gentle fingers traced invisible lines down her back toward the curve of her hip before trailing back up to her shoulder while his lips moved up from her neck to her jaw. He pulled his head back and opened his eyes to give her a lazy smile. Sydney was lying slightly higher than him on the bed which granted her access to his lips, so she pressed a sweet kiss against his mouth. They fit together perfectly, the kiss slow and languid, unrushed.
"I'm going to miss doing that," he said, his voice a whisper.
Sydney merely nodded in response and opened her eyes, Michael smiling as he brought up his hand and cupped her cheek, thumb brushing across her swollen bottom lip.
"Did you know that when you're turned on the center of your eyes have this purple color?" He saw her grin and lift her eyebrows, a soft negative shake of her head the only answer she gave. "Now, every single time I see you, if there's any purple in your eyes it's going to drive me crazy."
Sydney blushed and pressed a kiss to the bump on his nose before settling her head onto the pillow and regarding him with a dimpled smile. Leaving her cheek, his hand reached between them to pull out the red pouch filled with residual warm water, tossing it off the bed. Pulling her flush in his mouth fastened to the crook of her neck and shoulder, sucking at the soft skin and leaving a pink mark behind. Her breathy moan made him smile as his tongue soothed the spot before moving down and trailing across her collarbone to dip into the indent between throat and chest. Her skin was slightly salty as she'd been sweating in their cocoon while he'd slept, Michael lifting his head over hers and giving the right side of her neck the same treatment as the left.
Deciding that she'd been idle enough through his gentle ministrations, Sydney moved her hands from their spots around his shoulders. The arm tucked beneath his body moved up to play with the ends of hair at the nape of his neck while the other dragged a fingernail along the muscle lines of his upper arm down to his elbow. Moving back up she set her palm flat over his heart, the steady beat thumping quickly.
Pulling him close using the leg looped over his hip it made her center press against his hardness trapped behind the thin fabric of his boxers, the last barrier between them. His mouth stilled against the soft skin below her ear and he moaned low in his chest while his fingers massaged the muscles of her back. He held still as her hand moved lower between them to trace the stiff outline with the tip of her finger before finding the split at the front of the clothing and guiding him out and against her wet opening. Letting go and settling her hand over his heart again she tilted her head to press a soft kiss to his shoulder.
Moving one hand into the bent crook of her knee he held the painful leg up at an angle to keep the wound elevated, pushing his hips forward to slowly slide an inch at a time into her wet channel. Her breath was a ragged exhale against his hot skin and he had to close his eyes, forehead pressed against her jaw and nose tucked against her neck. Once he was as deep as he could go he stilled and held her, the realization hitting him in the heart that this may be the last time for a long time that he could chance holding her, especially this close.
Sydney moved first after a moment passed, lifting her head and fixing her doe-like brown eyes, complete with lusting purple iris', on his pleasure-filled features. The worry wrinkles of his forehead were standing out, and the hand over his heart moved up to press them away with gentle fingers, a kiss following. A soft smile relaxed his face as she fluttered light kisses across his eyebrow, closed eye, and cheek before settling on his mouth.
Michael pulled his hips back achingly slow, and she felt emptiness seep in behind his departure. It was short-lived as he pushed back in, the pace something she'd never experienced. Typically by the time she and anyone else had gotten to this point, Vaughn included, it was the last dash to the finish line. It dawned on her that this wasn't the same sex she was used to. This was something she'd never had before but had heard about in all those cheesy romance novels and made for T.V. dramas: this was love-making.
Tears filled her eyes at the thought of this being the one and only time this happened, and for an instant her heart broke. Those three, sacred words bubbled up and she couldn't stop them. Her position against his neck ensured that her mere whisper floated up to his ear easily, Michael stilling as he slid in to the hilt and held her shaking body against his, neither willing to meet the uncertain gaze of the other.
She'd said it – she said she loved him. The three little words he'd wanted to hear from her so badly for who knows how long, and it finally happened. A small smile worked across his lips as he brushed them against the lobe of her ear.
"Me too," he responded, pulling back with his hips for another tender and slow thrust. He felt her relax under his hands, the tensing of her shoulders disappearing instantly.
His pace stayed slow as if he was intent on memorizing every inch of her body from the inside out, and her breathy moans were soft yet echoing in his ear with the closeness of her lips. She could feel the familiar tingle and burn in her lower stomach, the angle at which they were laying ensuring that each thrust, no matter how slow, pushed against her g-spot first until the base of his shaft nudged her sensitive button before he pulled out. He felt the flutter of her inner muscles as she gasped against his throat, her orgasm sending shockwaves from her head to her toes as her body tensed in his arms. A brief flash of pain tried to poke in past her pleasure, the contraction of her wounded thigh reminding her it existed, but it was easy to ignore as she squeezed her eyes closed until stars danced in the blackness.
Michael chuckled quietly against her shoulder moving his mouth up against her ear once more, "how many of those do you think I can get out of you tonight?"
The pitch of his voice was low and gravelly, almost unrecognizable, and it very nearly sent her off the edge again. "Please let it be a hundred," she begged with a breathy whisper as she sucked air into her suddenly starved lungs.
The shrill beeping of the satellite phone sounded from the nightstand next to the bed, Sydney sighing dejectedly, confused for a moment as Vaughn's reaction was to hold her tighter and shake his head.
"Ignore it."
"But-" she was cut off as he pulled his hips back and thrust slightly faster than he had before, her mind blurring with the pleasure until the ringing broke back through.
"No. Right now…you're mine. They can't have you," his voice was commanding making her smile at his moment of possession.
Any other time, any other place, she would have slain him with the patented Bristow glare at the mere insinuation of her being owned by anyone. But at this moment it made her feel warm. He felt her nod against his shoulder as he pulled his hips back and thrust once more, picking up a slightly increased pace, though much slower than their previous night together. He sprinkled kisses against her shoulder and collarbone, small pink marks marring her skin in his wake until he pulled his head up and back to allow his cheek to rub against hers. She moved slightly and their mouths found one another, lips and tongues moving almost as slowly as their lower halves.
The ringing stopped leaving the only sound in the room his occasional moan and her breathy cries as she tumbled off the cliff into another orgasm, his mouth taking in the sounds as his right hand moved up to cup her cheek and hold her in place for his kisses. His hips sped up though he kept the strokes long, nearly pulling free of her warmth before pressing back in again until the base of his cock rubbed against her nether lips.
Their mouths broke apart and both gulped in air, his hand leaving her cheek to slip between them to lightly swirl his thumb over her swollen nubbin. "One more time, Syd," he pleaded against her mouth, his hips keeping the same slow rhythm.
Her previous orgasm never really stopped, merely acting as a rising wave for something larger, and his finger against her clit was fanning the flames in her belly. She crashed into oblivion and the contractions of her inner muscles milked him dry as he moaned long and deep into her mouth, their kissing taking a back seat to breathing, their lips brushing with each exhale.
Minutes passed as they stayed connected, his body pulling from hers as he adjusted his hips. Sydney's face was tucked into his shoulder and Vaughn's into her hair at her neck, neither wanting to be the first to move because if they did it would end everything. Michael felt the air in the bedroom begin to cool and peeked up from his vantage against her shoulder to see smoldering embers instead of flames in the woodstove. The sky outside was starting to darken and he knew night was coming.
He also knew he had to call Jack back and see what the news was. The best case would be another day in the cabin making love to Sydney while the worst case would be Sloan deciding to rescue her by sending a retrieval team. The latter meant he had to scrub every ounce of his presence from this building and leave her behind while hiking to a CIA extraction point. The middle ground was that the CIA had found a break in the storm and was sending a unit to retrieve them both and their time would be just as short.
"What I said," she started with a soft voice against his shoulder, Michael tensing for a moment thinking maybe she had regrets. "I meant it."
Vaughn relaxed with a sigh and pushed a kiss against the top of her shoulder. "Thank god," he muttered. "I don't know what I'd do if you'd taken it back."
…
