Fic: "Barbados" (Alias, S/V)
"Barbados"
Chapter: One
Summary: "You can't have things both ways, Mr. Vaughn."
Category: Sydney/Vaughn, Vaughn/Alice angst
Rating: R
Canon: "The Counteragent"
They slept together in a hotel room in Barbados, and for some reason, it wasn't as satisfying as she thought it would be. Yes, all of the parts fit correctly, and yes, he did make her come before he did, but something about the restless, jerky motions of the act left her feeling bereft and lonely afterwards. He got up to use the bathroom, and she curled up in the covers and pressed her eyes shut, trying to sleep.
She felt raw and used in the morning, not rejuvenated. Nothing was going the way she thought it would go.
***
Sydney, he cried out. Sydney.
She sat up quickly.
What did you say?
He blinked. I don't know.
She shook her head. You said a name. You said some other woman's name.
No. I couldn't have. The look on his face told her that he knew exactly what he'd done.
***
The trip doesn't accomplish what he'd hoped it would. A beautiful woman, white sandy beaches, and brilliantly colored tropical flowers should have shaken him back to the realities of life. But every time he slides inside of her, someone else's tight walls squeeze him until he can't breathe. Someone else's breasts are warm and soft under his tongue. Brown hair replaces blonde. Dark eyes and strong thighs grip him.
She watches him like a cat stalking prey when they meet for the next time in the warehouse. He's hard the entire time, and her eyes keep straying toward his belt buckle. It's going to kill them, and he can't do anything to stop it.
***
"You went somewhere with Alice?"
They lie beside each other on the floor of the cargo plane bound for India. She's wearing a silk sari so thin that he can see her nipples rise as he surveys her body.
"We went to the Caribbean for a weekend." He wants to touch her so much that he has to roll over and trap his hands underneath his body.
***
Maybe you should tell your girlfriend about your feelings for Agent Bristow.
Are you crazy? he asked. I love Alice. I don't want to hurt her.
She frowned as she tapped her pen against her clipboard. It hasn't occurred to you that maybe you're hurting her now.
What she doesn't know can't hurt her.
***
"I'm going to Seattle for a conference."
"When will you be back?"
"Thursday night. Can Eric feed Donovan?"
"I didn't say I was going to be gone."
"You didn't have to say it."
***
Hotel San Domingo. Room 214.
***
She's sweating, her chest heaving from the sprint back to the plane, and he's sitting with his bare back -- the cabin was so hot that he sweated through his shirt and discarded it -- pressed against the shell of the plane. The pilot is hidden behind a sliding metal door. It's just the two of them.
She unwraps the sari from around her neck and begins to turn away from him before something in her eyes changes. She lets the fabric pool around her waist, lets her full, naked breasts sway slightly as the plane dips to avoid a cloud patch. Her nipples tighten to hard little nubs.
He swallows hard and watches as, suddenly embarrassed by her actions, she covers herself up with a t-shirt. Things change.
***
His tongue is warm and precise between her legs, and she gives herself permission to gasp. And then he's kneeling above her, and then he's pulling her legs up around his waist, and then he's inside her, and her weight is balanced on her shoulders as he pushes in and out, in and out, in and out.
He looks at her strangely when he's finished, like she's not the person he expected to see when he opened his eyes.
***
We can't do this in the warehouse. CIA surveillance?
Or Jack Bristow surveillance.
And I can't do this to her. This isn't fair to her.
Nothing about this situation is fair, he reminds her. And I have to be with you.
Are you in love with me?
***
He saw her walk toward him from a careful opening in the curtains. She wore jeans and a gray sweater. When she came in the door, she silently pulled off her clothes and arranged herself on the bed as he did the same.
She surprised him; he went to kiss her, and she drew his tongue into her mouth, rolled him over, and eased down on him. She rose up and pushed down hard, then rose up again and let him slide all the way out of her. He watched her with wide eyes as she scooted forward and let her center hover over his mouth until he took her hips in his hands and sucked on her until she came. And then she moved back down, slid down on him again, and rode him hard until he saw sparks behind his eyes.
***
"Mr. Vaughn, I'd like to see you in my office."
"Sir, I'm working on--"
"I think you'll find that this is more important."
A hotel bill perched on the desk, a threat to tell her about it, and he leaves the office with his conscience screaming.
***
She lies underneath him, lets him finish, and rolls over to go to sleep while he goes to the bathroom.
***
Right there?
Yes, she answers. Oh, god, Vaughn, don't stop.
Can you wrap your legs around me?
Like this?
Oh, that's good. Just like that.
Don't stop. Feels so good... she hisses, tightening around him.
I don't care if she knows. I don't care.
***
"Dr. Barnett thinks it would be best."
"No one has to know anything. It happened once. Nothing has happened again."
Heat suffuses his face.
"You can't have things both ways, Mr. Vaughn. You can't have things both ways."
THE END
Chapter: One
Summary: "You can't have things both ways, Mr. Vaughn."
Category: Sydney/Vaughn, Vaughn/Alice angst
Rating: R
Canon: "The Counteragent"
They slept together in a hotel room in Barbados, and for some reason, it wasn't as satisfying as she thought it would be. Yes, all of the parts fit correctly, and yes, he did make her come before he did, but something about the restless, jerky motions of the act left her feeling bereft and lonely afterwards. He got up to use the bathroom, and she curled up in the covers and pressed her eyes shut, trying to sleep.
She felt raw and used in the morning, not rejuvenated. Nothing was going the way she thought it would go.
***
Sydney, he cried out. Sydney.
She sat up quickly.
What did you say?
He blinked. I don't know.
She shook her head. You said a name. You said some other woman's name.
No. I couldn't have. The look on his face told her that he knew exactly what he'd done.
***
The trip doesn't accomplish what he'd hoped it would. A beautiful woman, white sandy beaches, and brilliantly colored tropical flowers should have shaken him back to the realities of life. But every time he slides inside of her, someone else's tight walls squeeze him until he can't breathe. Someone else's breasts are warm and soft under his tongue. Brown hair replaces blonde. Dark eyes and strong thighs grip him.
She watches him like a cat stalking prey when they meet for the next time in the warehouse. He's hard the entire time, and her eyes keep straying toward his belt buckle. It's going to kill them, and he can't do anything to stop it.
***
"You went somewhere with Alice?"
They lie beside each other on the floor of the cargo plane bound for India. She's wearing a silk sari so thin that he can see her nipples rise as he surveys her body.
"We went to the Caribbean for a weekend." He wants to touch her so much that he has to roll over and trap his hands underneath his body.
***
Maybe you should tell your girlfriend about your feelings for Agent Bristow.
Are you crazy? he asked. I love Alice. I don't want to hurt her.
She frowned as she tapped her pen against her clipboard. It hasn't occurred to you that maybe you're hurting her now.
What she doesn't know can't hurt her.
***
"I'm going to Seattle for a conference."
"When will you be back?"
"Thursday night. Can Eric feed Donovan?"
"I didn't say I was going to be gone."
"You didn't have to say it."
***
Hotel San Domingo. Room 214.
***
She's sweating, her chest heaving from the sprint back to the plane, and he's sitting with his bare back -- the cabin was so hot that he sweated through his shirt and discarded it -- pressed against the shell of the plane. The pilot is hidden behind a sliding metal door. It's just the two of them.
She unwraps the sari from around her neck and begins to turn away from him before something in her eyes changes. She lets the fabric pool around her waist, lets her full, naked breasts sway slightly as the plane dips to avoid a cloud patch. Her nipples tighten to hard little nubs.
He swallows hard and watches as, suddenly embarrassed by her actions, she covers herself up with a t-shirt. Things change.
***
His tongue is warm and precise between her legs, and she gives herself permission to gasp. And then he's kneeling above her, and then he's pulling her legs up around his waist, and then he's inside her, and her weight is balanced on her shoulders as he pushes in and out, in and out, in and out.
He looks at her strangely when he's finished, like she's not the person he expected to see when he opened his eyes.
***
We can't do this in the warehouse. CIA surveillance?
Or Jack Bristow surveillance.
And I can't do this to her. This isn't fair to her.
Nothing about this situation is fair, he reminds her. And I have to be with you.
Are you in love with me?
***
He saw her walk toward him from a careful opening in the curtains. She wore jeans and a gray sweater. When she came in the door, she silently pulled off her clothes and arranged herself on the bed as he did the same.
She surprised him; he went to kiss her, and she drew his tongue into her mouth, rolled him over, and eased down on him. She rose up and pushed down hard, then rose up again and let him slide all the way out of her. He watched her with wide eyes as she scooted forward and let her center hover over his mouth until he took her hips in his hands and sucked on her until she came. And then she moved back down, slid down on him again, and rode him hard until he saw sparks behind his eyes.
***
"Mr. Vaughn, I'd like to see you in my office."
"Sir, I'm working on--"
"I think you'll find that this is more important."
A hotel bill perched on the desk, a threat to tell her about it, and he leaves the office with his conscience screaming.
***
She lies underneath him, lets him finish, and rolls over to go to sleep while he goes to the bathroom.
***
Right there?
Yes, she answers. Oh, god, Vaughn, don't stop.
Can you wrap your legs around me?
Like this?
Oh, that's good. Just like that.
Don't stop. Feels so good... she hisses, tightening around him.
I don't care if she knows. I don't care.
***
"Dr. Barnett thinks it would be best."
"No one has to know anything. It happened once. Nothing has happened again."
Heat suffuses his face.
"You can't have things both ways, Mr. Vaughn. You can't have things both ways."
THE END