Chapter 5: Surprise Surprise
"You know, don't you?"
"Sydney…I'm a spy, too. You'll have to torture me for the information," he explained.
"Weiss, please?"
"Oh, no, don't you pull the puppy dog eyes. I've told you too much already-"
"You haven't told me anything!" Sydney stomped her heel into the floor as she glared pointedly at her friend, lowering her voice as she noticed the glances of several onlookers.
"No. Mike said he'd shoot me in the balls if I gave away the surprise, and I would like to one day bear offspring."
"You have to find a girl first," she smirked at him mischievously.
Eric laughed, a frown of mock hurt clouding his goofy features as he mouthed 'no' once more before grabbing his file and moving away from the frustrated female.
She sighed, stuffing her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. It was her day off and here she was at work trying desperately to get Weiss to disclose the information contained in a soft velvet box wrapped in shining purple paper – said item lodged deep in the back of Vaughn's drawer.
The only reason she knew it was a velvet box is because she'd undone one end of the package and peeked. But soon, guilt had assailed her and she'd resisted the urge to open it the rest of the way.
"Hey," Vaughn's voice broke her deep concentration as he stood in front of her, his hand waving gently in front of her face before tapping the end of her nose with his index finger. "Whatcha thinkin' about? And what are you doing here? Don't you have the day off?"
"Yeah, but I had to talk to Eric."
"'Bout what?" Vaughn's eye narrowed as he looked around for his friend, not seeing the larger agent in the immediate vicinity.
"Nuthin'," she grinned. "I'll see you at home," she winked and walked away from his curious and somewhat cynical glare.
She laughed to herself, determined to locate the birthday present and break her promise not to peek. Since she'd gotten the key out Vaughn had moved it to his apartment, saying 'it's too much temptation if I leave it at your place'. Boy was he right.Fingering the key to his apartment as it hung from the ignition, she turned toward his home rather than her own.
She circled the block until finally locating a spot and pulling into it quickly. She greeted Vaughn's neighbor, the fifteen-year-old boy's friend blatantly checking her out until his pal's hand punched him in the side.
"C'mon, she's hot!"
"No, that's Miss Sydney. She's not eye candy; she's real nice," he smiled as she winked, patting their heads before walking by.
"Whatever man, I'm looking 'cuz she's fine!" the teenager exclaimed.
She held in her laughter and refrained from looking back, even when another smack filled the air, before skipping the elevator and jogging up the stairs.
The fourth floor - apartment seven - she grabbed her key out and unlocked it, the scampering, clawed feet of the fat bulldog making her smile and crouch down to greet the pint sized protector with a laugh. His tongue smothered her face in one giant slurp as he jumped up into her lap with his front paws perched on her thighs, his stub of a tail wiggled vigorously.
"Easy, Donnie, hop down," she ordered the mutt, his compliance only lasting until she crouched down underneath the sink to locate his stockpile of food. Nearly knocking her over with his excitement, he left a slobbery trail up her bare arm before running over and grabbing his dish, his jowls flopping on either side as he bounced back and forth between his right and left front feet.
She fed him quickly, staring over at the bedroom and having a quick debate with herself.
"It's only two days," she mumbled, settling down into the couch and grabbing the nearest thing to occupy her time with: a hockey magazine. "I can wait two more days," she said in a manner most convincing.
Unfortunately – to herself – it wasn't convincing at all, and with a huff she jumped up and made her way quickly to the bedroom.
Marching straight up to the bureau, her hands froze millimeters from the indents that served as makeshift handles.
"I'm a freakin' CIA-agent turned excited-five-year-old at Christmas time," she growled, flopping back onto his soft bed. She smiled lightly, eyes closing for a moment as she remembered back to the last time she'd been in this very bed, doing very naughty things.
Since then, Vaughn had returned the favor in full, and thus began their little war with one another. Object of the game: to see who could best whom. As of that particular moment, she was well into the lead. And she was definitely looking forward to the next rematch.
Heaving a sigh and rubbing the heels of her hands into her eyes, she sat up and glared over at the chest of drawers.
"Oh…what the hell. I'll act surprised," she mumbled while rising, opening the middle drawer up and reaching into the back. The envelope was still there - though the key had been removed - but unfortunately, the one thing that was missing was the sleek feeling of wrapping paper against her fingertips.
Pulling the drawer out farther, she found the already opened envelope, but that wasn't anything new. What was new, however, was the missing gift.
"Looking for something?" She stilled quickly knowing that even with her best spy attributes put into high gear, there wasn't a chance in hell that she'd be able to talk her way out of this one.
She whipped around to see Vaughn leaning against the doorframe - his jacket removed and his holster squeezing his white button-up shirt against his shoulders. The amused smirk on his face let her know that he'd been there for a while, content to watch her search in vain for the missing present.
"No…why do you ask?"
"Well," he grinned, pushing off of the frame and sliding his hands into his trouser pockets, he moved closer to where she was standing, each step echoing off of the carpeted floor. "No reason, unless you've got an unnatural fascination with my boxers and socks."
Sure enough, her hands were still buried in his drawer, but she'd only just noticed that it was his underwear drawer. With a sigh, she pulled back as he reached out, closing it with the tips of his fingers, his eyes never leaving her guilty blushing face.
"I wasn't gonna-"
"Yes, you were," he countered with a grin, seeing the glare she tossed him before moving his hands behind his back, his fingers clasping together as he waited patiently for her to attempt to get out of the hole she'd just dug.
"Okay, maybe I was. But you've effectively prevented me from peeking, so victory is yours," she grumbled, walking past him and back out into the hallway, Donovan looking up from his spot on the kitchen floor.
"Well, go me," he cheered, seeing the annoyed look tossed over he shoulder. He grabbed her arm and pulled her into the circle of his arms, his mouth latching over hers as she squeaked in surprise. Donovan's growl went unheeded until the bulldog sunk his pointy little teeth into Vaughn's lower calf.
"Ow!" They snapped apart, their mouths smacking as Michael jumped back, glaring down at the little tank that was his dog.
Donovan stood protectively in front of Sydney, his flappy lips snarling as she laughed from behind her guardian dog.
"I'm your master, you mutt," Vaughn growled, reaching a hand out to Sydney once more, the dog growling when he got too close.
After playing with with the over-protective pooch finding that he couldn't touch her without the dog reacting, Sydney crouched down and began scrubbing behind the wary dog's ears.
"Aren't you my little watchdog? Yes, you are," she cooed, taking plenty of slobbering kisses from the animal as he melted, jumping up and down, Vaughn glaring at the both of them.
The ringing of his cell phone made him search out his jacket as Sydney sat cross-legged on his floor, Donovan rolling onto his back so she could rub his potbelly.
"Vaughn," he grumbled, taking a moment to examine the bite on his leg as Weiss' voice echoed through his earpiece.
"Kendall sanctioned the "mission", and I did do the little air quotes on the word mission," he clarified, Vaughn trying desperately to hide his smirk, though his dog and his girlfriend were more interested on one another than the conversation he was having.
"What? Now? Yeah, Syd's here, why?" he started up the conversation, Sydney looking up from her spot on the floor.
"Bet you two are all cozy in bed, huh?" Weiss egged his friend on, hearing Vaughn's pretend sigh as he tried not to comment at his friend's statement.
"I'll let her know."
"Is she naked?"
"Weiss…" Vaughn's warning made Sydney frown with a curious grin. "No, I'm not gonna agree, her birthday's in a couple days-"
"Or is she wearing one of those lingerie thingies like on the plane with the scummy French dude?"
"Yeah, I promise…she'll be there soon." Without another word he snapped his phone closed and looked over as Sydney stood up with a final pat to the fat dog's stomach.
"What's up? Why didn't Weiss just call me if he wanted to ask me something?"
"He said he tried; where's your cell?" he asked, the small lie worth it in the grand scheme of things.
She patted her back pocket, remembering quickly that it was in her purse on the front seat of her car. "It's in the car. Whoops," she tucked a stray hand behind her ear before looking back up at him. "What did my birthday have to do with any of the little conversation?"
"Weiss had this contact in Paris that was looking into something Rambaldi related, and it turns out he's coming through with his end of the deal. Kendall approved an op. that you and Weiss are both on. I tried to get him to wait until after your birthday, but hopefully you'll be back in time,"
"Damn," she growled, lacing her arms around his neck, her nose rubbing against his playfully. "I guess I'll just have to wait to see my present after all," she grinned, her tongue tracing his lips before he sucked it inside, their mouths melding together.
She was the first to pull back, large smile gracing her swollen lips as she untangled herself from his clinging hands.
"You'll have to wait until I get back for the rest," she grinned, stepping out of his arms and out through the front door, Donovan following until the barrier between him and the hallway stopped him.
With a whine, he settled himself in front of the closed door, looking back at Vaughn with such a sad expression that he almost felt bad for the dog. Almost - if the teeth marks in his calf weren't still tingling with a reminder that his pet wasn't actually his pet anymore.
"Whatever, you traitor," he grumbled, flipping on his phone and calling Marshall. "Hey, Marshall, it's Vaughn. Syd bought it and she's on her way in."
"Oh, great! Well, I'm pretty much ready here with Weiss…and, you know, assuming everything goes okay, I mean – she is a spy, what if she figures it out?" he stuttered, Vaughn smiling through the phone.
"Marshall, as long as you just stutter and act like yourself, Syd's not gonna have a clue."
…
She sighed, flipping over another card and finding it to be a jack of spades. Boom baby, there's a flush. But years of practice trained her to keep a stoic façade as she peered over her hand at the other agent. Weiss –being a complete goofball – surprisingly wasn't inept at keeping a straight face.
"All right, show me whatchu got," he ordered, trying to coax her into revealing her cards first.
"Oh, no, I dealt. That means that you get to show me the goods," she retorted.
"Bet that's not the first time you've said that," he wiggled his eyebrows, desperate to hide his pair of twos from the woman across from him.
"Weiss…" she warned, flashing her eyes as she took a swig from her water bottle.
"What? I'm just sayin'; it just clicked in my mind at how you and Vaughn were able to play poker 'consistently' during a sixteen-hour flight," his fingers accentuated the quoted word as he saw a small blush tint the upper part of her cheeks.
"Oh man, c'mon! I was just messin' around; you're not tellin' me that…ewww," he grumbled, tossing his cards down onto the table as she laughed.
"Does this mean I should just collect the pot right now? Add it to my ever growing stockpile of goodies?" she asked, her hands encompassing the medium sized pile of fun-size chocolate bars and jellybeans.
"Fine, take it," Eric growled, Sydney grabbing a Snickers™ and tossing it over to him. "Yes! I deserve it after having to put up with the constant flirting, the sexual innuendos," he growled, unwrapping his prize and stuffing it into his mouth.
"Well, I'm gonna go get ready, we'll land in about twenty minutes anyway. Think you can clean up on your own?"
"Yeah," he smiled up at her as she retreated to the back part of the cabin, a small sheet set up between them for privacy on one end.
"Okay, so what exactly am I looking for again? I tried to listen to Marshall, but he was a bit more 'stuttery' than usual," she called, sliding out of her work pants and pulling the dress from the dress-bag.
Surprisingly, it was a classy gown and not a tramp-like skimpy piece of cloth that showed far more than she was ever comfortable with showing. The gown was black, the material tight from her torso to her stomach complete with a string in the back to connect the two straps underneath her shoulder blades before meeting in a dipping 'V' at the small of her back. The flowing fabric would probably touch the top of her feet, and though it was quite beautiful, she wasn't looking forward to running down yet another hallway in heels.
Laying it out on a chair, she proceeded to slide into the thigh-high-hose one at a time before pulling the dress over her head.
"You know, for an alias, this isn't such a bad dress. It might just find its way into my minimal collection of outfits I've failed to return from these missions," she smiled, hearing Weiss laugh behind the curtain.
"You mean you don't look like a woman that would be willing to sleep with me?" He knew full well what the dress looked like and had only imagined how perfectly Sydney would wear it.
"Weiss, despite the outfits, I don't believe I'd ever be a woman willing to sleep with you. It'd be like sleeping with my brother," she shuddered, tossing open the curtain and seeing him flipping through the mission folder. "Tie me?" She asked, smoothing the dress down in front lightly.
He stood as she turned her back to him, holding her hair up to avoid it getting tangled up with the bow Eric was intent on tieing.
"You look really pretty," he smiled as she walked back to the other half of the plane to do her makeup.
"So all I have to do it show up at the restaurant, find the target, flirt a little bit and grab his key-card, right?"
"Pretty much, it's kind of a snatch and grab sort of thing." He kept the smile from his face as she stuck her head out of the small bathroom in the middle of washing her face with a warm, wet cloth.
"And why am I going in alone? Wouldn't it be a bit more believable if I were going in with a significant other?" she questioned with a small frown, returning to her position in front of the sink to dry her face and begin the journey with her makeup.
"Well, you can't very well show up with some guy and then excuse yourself to flirt with Mr. Rocco, can you?"
"Touché," she agreed, finishing up with her eyes, a dark line on both lower and upper lids, though the upper curled up near the temple to make her lashes look even longer than usual. Moving on to her cheeks, she applied a minimal touch of blush to merely make her color vary. If the dress was classy, her makeup was going to match.
"How should I do my hair?" she asked, mostly to herself, as she ran a small brush through the soft chestnut strands.
Weiss was prepared for this one as well, per Vaughn's orders.
"Can you curl it?" he asked, trying to keep his voice nonchalant.
"Yeah, why? You giving me fashion advice, Agent Weiss?" she asked with a curious grin, seeing him focus intently on putting the playing cards back into the package.
"Well…I mean…you look nice with curly hair. Maybe curly and put it up in a bun or something. I don't know, it's your head," he grumbled, reciting perfectly what Vaughn had requested her hair look like.
"Well, if you think so." She plugged in the travel-sized curling iron and waited patiently for it to heat up.
Once the hair was finished and in the process of being pinned to the top of her head, a few unruly curls falling in wisps about her shoulders and along the side of her face, the captain announced that the plane was beginning its descent to the airport.
"Come and sit down," Eric called, seeing her step around the curtain looking completely stunning.
"Man, if only Vaughn would be able to see you tonight, you'd totally be getting' laid," he winked, Sydney rolling her eyes in mock annoyance at his crude comment.
"Well, hopefully we'll be back in L.A. in time for me to at least celebrate with him for a couple hours."
"I think you'll get your 'together time' in, Syd, trust me," he winked as they landed in Paris, the light of the city shining around them.
"Okay, your only clue for this guy is gonna be a green fountain pen sitting on the edge of the table; table thirteen. It's located here," Weiss set the small map on her lap as they pulled to the curb of the restaurant and Sydney prepared to exit the vehicle.
"Gotcha. Thanks, Weiss," she smiled, kissing him on the cheek and stepping out as the valet took her hand, blatantly checking her out at he asked her in polite French if she was meeting someone or was intending to wait for her company to arrive.
"Non, merci, mon ami est déjà arrivé." Smiling, he brushed a kiss across her knuckles and moved on to attend to the next car pulling up as Weiss' limo disappeared around the corner. [No, thank you, my friend has already arrived.)
Flipping on her earpiece, she heard him ask for some tasty crepes, but decided against answering. Agent-trained eyes scanned the dining area, seeing table thirteen and the green fountain pen quickly. Looking down and smoothing out her dress, she began to see that very few people were seated around that particular table.
"I wonder if he's planning on meeting anyone else tonight," she spoke quietly to herself.
"Why do you say that?" though filled with static, Sydney was able to discern Weiss' concerned voice through the din of the large restaurant.
"Because every table around his is empty. Coincidence?"
"I think not," Eric finished with a laugh. "Have you seen the target yet?"
"No, I didn't want to look too suspicious, you know? Can't very well walk in and notice him immediately," she muttered into her comm.
"Okay, going radio silent for a minute. Got a phone call," Eric mumbled, switching off his comm as he flipped open his phone, calling Vaughn.
"What the hell is she doing?" his friend's voice asked as Eric heard the commotion of the bistro over the phone.
"C'mon, man, she thinks it's a mission and is therefore in professional mode. Should we send in Dixon?"
"Might as well," Vaughn growled before hanging up and pocketing his phone, delighted to stare at Sydney's beautiful frame in the dress he'd chosen. Her current position provided him a long look at her toned back due to the dipping material of the dress, as well as her taut middle and shoulders.
Weiss grumbled before making himself comfortable in the back seat of the limo as the driver rolled the small window down.
"Is there a problem, Agent Weiss?"
"No, there isn't Agent Bristow. She's in complete spy mode so we're sending in Dixon."
Without another word Jack rolled the window back up and tipped the chauffeur hat back down over his eyes with an annoyed sigh.
"You're on, Dixon, she's still not biting yet. Keep in mind that once you move in, you'll probably blow the secret so just show her where Vaughn is sitting. Lemme know how it goes."
"Sure thing," Dixon's voice cut out as he hung up, Weiss propping his legs up on the bench seat.
"Pardon, madame, mais puis-je vous aider à localiser votre parti? Peut-être trouver une table si vous dînez seul?" (Pardon me ma'am, but can I help you locate your party? Perhaps find a table if you're dining alone?)
Sydney's head whipped around, her wide eyes focusing on the deep color of Marcus' face.
"What…wait, what are you doing here?" she growled in a harsh whisper, but he merely smiled and extended his arm to her, waiting patiently for her to comply.
"Ici, laissez-moi vous accompagner à votre table." His smile was reassuring so she slipped her arm through his and briefly looked up to the table she was – eventually – supposed to infiltrate in order to find the key-card. (Here, let me escort you to your table.)
Instead of an unknown face smiling up at her, Vaughn's shining eyes and deep smile made her look questioningly up at Dixon.
"Happy birthday, mademoiselle," he winked, leaving the two standing alone in front of the table.
"Wanna fill me in?" she asked, an incredulous frown on her face, though her eyes shone with happiness and unrestrained curiosity.
"Well, originally I'd asked Kendall to give us the weekend off to celebrate your birthday, but when he denied my request the fourth time I went around him to your father."
"My father?!" she squeaked as he moved around behind her, just close enough for her to feel his presence but not touch him. Pulling out her chair and guiding her into it, he pushed it in before claiming his own seat.
Sure enough, on the table sat the green fountain pen.
"Yeah. Surprisingly he did not try to shoot me, and he agreed to help. We set up a dummy mission for Kendall, and he okayed Weiss, you and me on point with Dixon and Jack as backup," he explained, seeing the stunned look beginning to dissipate.
"My dad? You and my dad orchestrated this whole thing?"
"Yep."
"All of it?" she sat with her hands flopping in her lap as she searched for confirmation that her father had set up a weekend alone for his daughter and her lover – a man who hadn't really earned Jack Bristow's blessing yet.
"Yep. He was your limo driver, I might add," Vaughn reached out and waited for her to slide her hand into his larger, waiting palm. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are tonight?"
With a blush she looked down, her free fingers toying with the frayed hem of the cloth napkin before looking up and taking in his attire for the first time that evening. The black material of his pants and jacket matched her dress perfectly, the black going together so well, but the almost blue-silver undershirt that stuck out around the collar – as well as his tie – was complimentary to the shining wisps at the front of her dress.
"So you actually went and picked out two matching outfits for tonight?"
"Yeah, well, Weiss helped."
"That's a surprise," she laughed as a young waiter appeared with two large menus in hand.
The waiter approached their table, Sydney's stomach already growling at the aroma wafting from the kitchen.
"Your food will arrive momentarily. Would you like me to bring out your wine?" His polite French words swirled around as Sydney fixed Vaughn with yet another surprised stare.
"Yes, please – thank you very much."
"Michael, I can't believe you did all of this," she sighed, a happy smile gracing her lips as he leaned across the small, intimate table to take her fingers into his hand.
"Happy birthday, Syd," he replied, pulling away for a moment to scoot his chair around closer to her own, his lips placing a gentle, soft kiss against her mouth as the food was carried out along with a bottle of wine.
The meal was delicious, Sydney cleaning her plate as Vaughn watched her with shining green eyes.
"What's on your mind? You seem pretty far away," she asked quietly, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his temple. His cheeks blushed a light pink as he looked over at her with a small smile before reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out the infamous present, complete with re-taped purple wrapping paper.
With a grin, she opened the end and slid out the velvet box, setting aside the paper, stopping with a pause before opening the box.
"What's wrong? You've been dying to know what's inside for a month," his mouth was set in that perfect little grin, and she couldn't help but reach out and trace the dimple on his chin before cracking open the box, the shining glint of jewelry making her close it quickly, her eyes whipping up to his.
"It's not what you think it is; c'mon, baby, open it," he urged, seeing the sudden panic in her mocha orbs as she flipped the lid once more.
The beautiful, white gold necklace was criss-crossed in the front with the top section housing three small diamonds.
"Oh my…Vaughn…this is," she stuttered, merely content to stare at the piece as he chuckled beside her, reaching out and taking it from her shaking hands.
Pulling it from the protective box of velvet and silk he stood and moved behind her, placing it around her neck before clasping it. Leaning down he peppered a few small kisses behind her ear and along her neck before slipping back into his chair.
With a sigh she leaned forward, cupping the back of his head and pulling him in for a sweet kiss. What was meant to be light and nothing more than a caress turned into a smoldering mesh of lips and tongues, each trying desperately to drink the other in.
A discreet cough pulled them both apart as Vaughn looked up to face a smirking Dixon decked out in the restaurants mandatory outfit.
"Your bill, sir, complimentary of the Central Intelligence Agency. Please sign here," his voice was merely a whisper, though to the untrained eye it merely looked like Vaughn was indeed signing off for his meal.
"Thank you, have a lovely evening," handing him the receipt as well as a hidden card underneath, he turned and walked away before Michael could question the lingering item.
"What's that?" Syd asked, finishing the last sip of wine and pressing her napkin to her lips as she took the card from his hands and flipped it over. "'To Syd and Mike, you owe me beer and hockey tickets. Love, Weiss'. There's an address here for a hotel," she grinned, meeting his eyes over the rectangle piece of plastic.
"Well, let's go see what our room looks like," Vaughn stood, smoothing out his jacket before helping her from her seat and making their way out of the restaurant.
A limo was waiting for them both, and they saw Jack's usual steely face in the front.
"Damn, I guess this means that I can't make out with you on the way, doesn't it," he grumbled into her ear, his hand at the small of her back and guiding her into the large seat as the small window rolled down between the two sections.
"Yes, it does Agent Vaughn." Jack stated frankly, though a small hint of a smile graced his mouth when he looked at how happy Sydney appeared to be.
For the first few moments of the ride, Vaughn stuck to his side of the limo even though his hands ached to touch the beautiful woman beside him. It wasn't until her hand gently pushed on his bouncing knee that he stopped fidgeting and turn to look at her.
"Thank you for everything tonight, Vaughn. The restaurant, the dinner, the necklace – all of it. Definitely a birthday I won't forget," she cupped his cheek, leaning in and setting a kiss to his cheek before tucking her hand between his as the limo slowed to a stop in front of the gigantic hotel. Jack turned, looking through the small window as the two younger agents focused on the senior officer before them.
"You're checking in under the names Sydney and Michael Macheau, visiting from northern France. You're here for two nights and you fly back day after tomorrow."
"Dad – thank you so much. You don't know how much this means to me, truly," she smiled, moving over to the window, kissing her fingertip and pressing it into his cheek before exiting the vehicle and grabbing onto Vaughn's arm.
The hotel was massive and ornate, large stairways and hanging chandeliers making the couple gape at the elegant décor until they made it to the front desk. A smiling young woman greeted them in the beautiful language, and as soon as they signed off on the suite they made their way over to the elevator, catching it right as the doors opened and a few people streamed out.
With his hand at the small of her back, Sydney and Michael entered the gold-paneled, box-like room and pushed the small round button that said 40.
"This has been an incredible night," Sydney sighed, looking over at him as he wedged his hands into his pockets, rocking onto the back of his heels, regarding her with his patented crooked grin.
"You deserve it. I mean…if I could do this every night…" he left off seeing the bright shine in her eyes and the dimples raging on her cheeks. "C'mere," he muttered, his hands moving from his pockets to her waist as he pulled her gently against him.
"Happy birthday, Sydney," he whispered before kissing her, his lips merely caressing hers as she sighed, her mouth opening slightly under his soft teasing. The kiss progressed slowly, their first few touches something soft until a burning excitement seemed to pour through her veins.
Her hands that were once stationary on his shoulders moved north until her fingers dove into his hair, simultaneously pushing his mouth hard against her own. His tongue sought entrance and she quickly acquiesced, her breath intermingling with his between their suctioning lips.
He pulled away with a smack, a small strand of saliva connecting their lips until his head moved along her jaw, stopping to bite at her earlobe as she clung to his back. His mouth suctioned over her racing pulse point as he leaned forward, forcing her to almost go limp in his embrace as she bent backward against his strong arms.
All too soon the elevator came to a stop with a ding, Vaughn reluctantly pulling away from her now bright red neck as the doors opened to reveal yet another lobby - though much smaller than the main floors - and an anxious bell-boy waiting with a large suitcase.
"Monsieur Vaughn?" he asked, a small squeak in his voice.
"Oui," Michael stated with a small frown, eyes scanning the lobby quickly before looking back down at the boy.
"Monsieur Jack tells me to…ummm…help you to get to…uh," he muttered, trying desperately to speak in the foreign English tongue.
"C'est tout exact, J'ai grandi en France. Dites-maintenant moi, Jack vous a envoyé?" (It's all right, I grew up in France. Now tell me, Jack sent you?)
"Oui, monsieur! Il m'a demandé de vous montrer à votre pièce et de vous donner votre sac, puisque vous étiez non préparé. C'est tout qu'il me dirait monsieur, Je jure!," (He asked me to show you to your room and give you your bag, since you were unprepared. That is all he would tell me sir, I swear!)
Vaughn gave him a genuine smile, Sydney doing the same as they stepped fully out of the elevator and followed the talkative young man down the hallway toward their room.
"Vous semblez terriblement jeune travailler ici," Sydney stated as he took the card from her hand and slid it into its respective slot, the door beeping three times as the small LED flashed from red to green. (You seem awfully young to be working here.)
"Mon père et mère étaient de bons amis avec votre famille, Mlle. Bristow. Quand Jack a demandé notre aide en vous obtenant cette pièce, mon père a parlé à plusieurs personnes pour le faire se produire. Appréciez votre sejour ! Si vous avez besoin de n'importe quoi, le nombre de mon père est sur le bureau," with a small, curt bow he scampered from the room, leaving the couple standing in the doorway. (My father and mother were good friends with your family, Miss Bristow. When Jack asked for our help in getting you this room, my father talked to several people to make it happen. Enjoy your stay! If you need anything, my father's number is on the desk,)
"Wow, look at this room!" Sydney exclaimed as she waltzed in, Vaughn closing the door quickly behind them.
The giant suite was probably the most luxurious hotel room they'd ever stayed in (and they'd stayed in a lot of hotel rooms, for both business and personal reasons). Large double doors opened to a balcony overlooking the sprawled city, and a soft breeze ruffled the floor-length curtains showing that the doors were open. The 'living area' of the room was to the left of the entrance, and a small kitchen sat tucked away to the far left of the room.
"Hotel room? Nah, this is more like an apartment," Vaughn muttered, appreciatively eyeing the large thirty-two-inch television sitting across from a gold and silver embroidered couch and chair. The entertainment system was unlike anything he'd ever seen, let alone dreamed about.
"You want some music? Maybe some sexy jazz?" he asked with a crooked grin, meandering over to the stereo system and opening the protective glass door before fiddling with some buttons, a decent station playing various jazzy melodies, the strands of the soft saxophone swirling around the once quiet room.
"Oh, man!" Sydney's voice called, Vaughn immediately rushing off through yet another set of double doors and nearly crashing into her back as they both scanned the bedroom with trained eyes. "I wanna move in," she muttered with a breathless laugh before moving to the bed and feeling the soft quilt with her hand.
The four-post bed rose up in the center of the room, large white sheets spilling over the edges as a mahogany duster brushed along the floor. Several deep red, gold, and silver pillows adorned the top of the bed, an amber colored afghan resting on the end mostly for show and completing the ensemble.
All of the wood was a deep cherry color, complimenting the furniture of the living room and kitchen perfectly. The dresser had a large bouquet of roses accentuated with a few sprigs of white baby's breath strewn through the floral arrangement - a white card next to the crystal vase stood out and Vaughn picked it up, reading the scrawled handwriting.
"Syd, this card's for you," he smiled, seeing her turn her attention away from the bed and over to where he was standing. She took it from his hands with a curious smile before opening it to find that it was from her father.
'Happy Birthday, sweetheart.'
The message wasn't much by way of uproarious speech or wistful poetry, but to her it meant so much more than either of those could express. To her, it signified - perhaps hinted - that she may one day have a normal life. Something void of the constant terror and the many hours of jetlag she suffered after jumping from country to country in search of the bad guys.
"You okay?" Michael asked quietly, seeing the tears well up in her eyes as she flashed him a bright smile, wiping at her nose quickly before blinking back the tears.
"Yeah, it's…it's from my dad. He just wanted to say happy birthday, that's all," she sighed, slipping the card back into its protective envelope before stepping closer to Vaughn.
"Thank you so much for this, Vaughn, I really needed this break," she muttered into his neck, sliding into his arms as he began to sway with the gentle music. His hands unlaced the string behind her back as his mouth traveled down her neck placing light kisses against her flesh.
"You tryin' to start somethin' Mr. Vaughn?" she asked coyly, pulling away from his roving lips to unbutton and push his jacket off of his shoulders.
"Well…you read my mind," he grinned, covering her mouth once more before sliding his tongue out to duel with hers.
They took their time memorizing the feel of each other - the taste - and the ever-growing sensuality that they shared. His lips were commanding yet gentle, and this was the one place she allowed herself to be completely vulnerable and devoid of the protective walls she'd constructed.
His jacket was left in a pile on the floor, as well as tie and silvery blue shirt. Her hands roamed his chest, fingers going over each line, lump and rippling muscle until they met the waistband of his trousers.
He was by no means standing still under her inspection - quite the contrary. He completely untied the back of her dress, the strings hanging limply over her backside, before sliding up her ribcage and pulling the straps of the lightweight dress until they were down to the crook of her elbows.
Once the majority of their clothing was in scattered piles on the floor, they awkwardly made their way over to the beautiful bed.
"Wait a sec, I need to pull down the blankets," he mumbled against her mouth and moved away from her, his eyes having a tough time turning away from the sight of her clad in only a matching set of underwear, the thigh-high hose pulled off right after the dress.
She watched the muscles of his back stretch out as he shoved the pillows off to the other side and grabbed the blankets, hurling them down to the other end of the bed. Throwing off one pillow and leaving one behind for their heads, he turned back to her with a wide smile.
"You're such a gentleman," she grinned, his hands gripping her waist before sliding up to snap off her bra and push it off of her body as he lead her to the bed.
"Always for you," he whispered while nuzzling his nose into her throat, a breathy groan slipping from her lips as her body pressed flush against his. She scattered small pecks over his shoulder while he turned, dipping her back until she lay on the soft silky sheets.
He left her with her legs hanging off the edge as his hands and mouth traveled lower after one brief kiss. His tongue swirled each of the twin peaks, her nipples jutting outward. She groaned, fingers delving in to take fistfuls of his hair as he pulled back, his mouth disconnecting with a pop before he blew a cold blast of air over each breast, leaving them straining while moving lower to her stomach.
He worshiped each abdominal muscle, his mouth leaving several pinkish red marks against her skin before dipping his tongue into her navel and pulling back. Removing her panties with gentle fingers, his hands skimmed back up her legs as he met her closed eyes and flushed face.
Reaching up behind her, he lifted her upper body and slid it back so her head was resting on the fluffy pillow, his eyes scanning her nakedness with a fiery emerald stare. Vaughn pulled his boxers off, letting them drop to the floor as his hardness jumped up, twitching every few seconds as he flopped down next to her on the bed.
"You are so beautiful, have I told you that?" he asked, leaning in for a sweet kiss as his hand rubbed her arm lightly.
"A couple of times perhaps," she stated with a grin, facing him on her side as they each propped their heads up with a hand.
"I don't think we've ever actually gotten this far into it without jumping one another," he chuckled, pulling her closer until no viable space was left between their heated bodies.
"Well, if you think about it - it's not like we ever get more than ten minutes to enjoy anything before we're called in." Leaning forward once more, she pressed a small kiss to his chin, briefly letting her tongue trace the crease before pulling back with a wide smile.
"Well…we don't have to worry about that this weekend," he grinned, one hand resting on her hip as the other reached out and pulled her head into the crook of his neck and, subsequently, onto his shoulder.
The hand on her hip moved down to pick up her leg and settle it over his waist, causing the tip of his cock to touch the heated warmth of her core. Pressing a kiss to her neck and shoulder, her mouth sucking lightly on his earlobe and racing pulse point, back and forth between his throat and collarbone, he inched up with his hips until the head was completely buried in her wet heat.
Still facing each other on their sides, he groaned into her hair, several curled, fly-away strands clinging to his sweaty cheek, pushing up slowly with his hips until he was inside her body completely. A rush of air was pushed from her lungs at the intensity of his entrance, and they stilled their bodies until she adjusted to his girth.
"You okay, baby?"
"Yeah…just…it just feels different," she mumbled, her words muffled against his skin.
"Different in a good way?"
"Oh, God yes," she groaned as he pulled back equally as slowly before the tip popped out and rubbed against her hardened clit. She groaned as he smiled pulling back with his hips in an effort to angle himself back to her opening, but unable to do so with the way their bodies were lying.
Before he could react, she reached down and gripped him with her hand, fingers skimming over the top before positioning it back against her moist lips, her hand retreating to lay flat against his lower stomach.
Pushing in completely, he pulled back out slowly, repeating the process several times over many minutes until her hips began to rock against him, her body aching for more. He increased his speed marginally, still making sure she'd have to assist him back into her body.
Finally, he pulled out completely - smiling at the whimper she let out into his shoulder - pushing away from her despite the firm grip of her clinging arms. Her questioning eyes met his and he leaned in to a wet kiss, moving her body until she was flat on her back, her legs opening quickly to let him back into the warmth she offered.
Pushing himself into her quickly, the breath left her lungs as his pace started to become more frantic and hurried, his body smothering hers as he propped himself up at the elbows, his lower arms stretching out with his hands cupping her head, holding her against him.
This forced his hips to take over with every movement, the base of his cock pressing into her clit on each down stroke. Her legs clung to his waist as her hands gripped his back, fingernails leaving small crescent-shaped indents over his shoulder blades.
Their bodies were covered in a fine sheen of sweat, their pressing and pushing sending them both over the edge, Sydney crying out his name into his neck as he buried his face into her shoulder, his hoarse grunt and ensuing grunts mirroring each spasm of her clenching walls around his spurting member.
They lay motionless, lips giving light caresses as they came down from their high, the room ceasing its spinning as he tried to pull away from her before he crushed her with his weight.
"No, not yet," she begged, her voice low and raspy as she squeezed him tighter to avoid him leaving.
"I don't wanna crush you, at least lemme grab the blankets so we don't freeze," he laughed lightly, trying to extract himself from her arms, feeling her refusal in the way her body still clung to his. With a sweet sigh and a kiss to her cheek, he lifted her body as he sat up, keeping himself lodged inside her core as well as their upper bodies connected.
Finally managing to sit up with her legs around his waist, her rear end perched on his straining thighs as he leaned back a bit with his arm and lifted the blankets - thankful that one didn't make it all the way to the floor.
Dragging it over their cooling bodies, he leaned onto his side, pulling her with him as he tucked the blanket around their waists, his arms wrapping around her as she sighed into his throat.
"I like it," she whispered, Vaughn feeling her smile against his skin.
"Like what?"
"I like not being rough," With a laugh and a kiss, they snuggled deeper into the bed as he agreed, but quickly added:
"Yeah, but rough is fun too,"
…