Chapter 13 - Always There

She had been sitting on the couch, anticipating a knock on the front door, for quite some time. But Sydney's stomach still lurched when it finally came.

Taking a deep breath, she walked toward the door and opened it. Vaughn was standing there, tie loosened and slightly askew, with deep purple circles under his eyes. "Hi. You...forgot this last night," he said, nodding in reference to the box he was holding in his hands.

"Oh." She had been too flustered as she left his car to even think about her things from work. She took the box from him and placed it on the floor next to her feet. Pulling herself back upright, she forced herself to look him in the eye, and instantly hated what she saw. He was looking at her as if she was a piece of fine china he had been entrusted with. Like he had dropped her and watched, horrified, as she smashed into bits.

Sydney had planned a number of ways to address what had happened the previous night, but none of them stood up to the look on his face.

Finally, he spoke. "Your, uh, car keys are in the box." He motioned to her Land Rover, which was now parked in the driveway. Weiss was seated in Vaughn's car, parked behind it. 

"Thanks."

"I'll see you," he said, in a tone that told her he wasn't so sure he would. Then he turned to walk away.

No, damn it. You can't just walk away, she thought. Desperately, she called out his name, and he snapped back around.

"I've got class this afternoon, and then I'm meeting my dad for dinner," she said. "But we were going to go out to The Pub later, if you'd like to come." Actually, she hadn't had any such plans. In her desperation, she blurted out the first social thing she could think of, non-threatening and non-romantic. Anything to see him that night, to keep him from guilting his way out of her life.

"Okay." His eyes revealed hope. He motioned to the car. "Mind if I bring Weiss? He says this week has really put a damper on his social life."

Okay, she thought. So there are the ground rules. We start again tonight as friends and see where it goes.

"Not at all." She tried to make her smile reassuring. The corners of his mouth turned weakly before he turned and walked to the car. Sydney waited until it was headed down the street to sprint inside and pick up the phone.

"Francie, we have to go to the bar tonight."

If not for the dark, complex cloud hanging over the whole thing, it could have been a good day, Sydney mused as she walked into the smoky bar with Will and Francie. She had been able to listen somewhat attentively during class, and had — for once — turned a paper in on time. Dinner with her father had been pleasant, up until the point where he asked about her night with Vaughn. Fortunately, he had let the matter drop, his look a mixture of concerned and relieved, when she told him softly that she didn't want to talk about it.

Will and Francie had both been up for an impromptu night out, although only Francie knew what had spurred it. She followed them to the bar and ordered a drink.

"Here, let me get it," Will told the bartender, slipping him the money and intercepting Sydney's drink. He handed it to her and raised his own glass in the air, indicating she and Francie should do the same.

"To Sydney and her damn bank job, which is finally oh-ver!" He and Francie whooped as they clinked glasses.

Sydney laughed and looked down at her attire as a blond in a skin-tight dress walked by. She had considered wearing something similar, but eventually decided against it. She was past her limit on tight dresses, stilettos, and wigs, plus she wasn't sure how Vaughn would have read it. Instead, she had opted for black pants and a tank top, which were still earning her stares from a man sitting at the bar.

"Why don't we go get a booth?" she suggested, and they walked toward the back of the bar.

Francie deftly maneuvered herself so that she was sitting next to Will, leaving Sydney with an empty seat next to her. Good work, Francie, she thought, scanning the bar for Vaughn or Weiss. She saw neither.

Will worked through his first beer faster than the two women, and when he headed back to the bar, Sydney looked at Francie and said doubtfully, "I don't think he's going to show."

"He'll show," Francie responded immediately.

"How do you know?"

"Syd, I haven't known the guy for very long, but I get the feeling he'd do anything for you," Francie said. "I think showing up at a bar certainly fits within the definition of anything."

"Anything, what?" Will asked as he sat back down, placing a bottle in front of each of them. "Refills, ladies."

"Nothing," Sydney said, snapping her attention toward the bar's entrance. Vaughn and Weiss had just walked in. She assumed they had come straight from work, as both were still wearing dress shirts and pants. They were scanning the bar, looking for her, and she gave them a feeble wave. Weiss caught it, waving back and then saying something to Vaughn. They stopped at the bar for drinks before heading toward the booth.

"Hey!" Sydney called out, as Vaughn and Weiss walked up to their booth. "Will, Francie, this is Eric Weiss. He works with Vaughn."

Vaughn grabbed a chair from another table and set it next to their table as everyone exchanged greetings. He then slid into the booth next to her, leaving the chair for Weiss.

"So," Will said, voice teeming with sarcasm. "What's going on in the big, bad IRS world these days?"

Sydney assumed Vaughn had explained the cover to Weiss, or that this was one they commonly used, because he immediately launched into a story on tax loopholes so full of odd tangents and strangely familiar she could hardly contain herself. She got the distinct impression Vaughn shared her situation. Eventually, she decided she couldn't stand it anymore.

"Excuse me," she said, looking at Vaughn. "I think I need to hit the ladies' room."

Sydney stood and walked past a few booths, turning down a small hallway toward the restrooms. She made it a few steps down the hallway before bursting into giggles.

Vaughn joined her a few moments later. "Can you tell he's been doing Marshall's interrogations?" he managed to get out before laughing uncontrollably.

"Not at all. That— " she said, gasping for air. "—was cruel."

They stayed that way for quite awhile, his hand on her arm, in mutual appreciation of Weiss' wicked sense of humor. This, she thought, as her mind began to calm down, is the way it's supposed to be. The two of us, laughing over a shared secret. No awkwardness, no guilt.

But then Vaughn's laughter slowly trickled to a halt. It left his eyes, replaced by the guilt and pain from earlier.

"About last night," he started. She shook her head, indicating that she understood, that there was no need for him to continue. He read this reaction, but continued anyway. "No. I need to say this."

"Syd, I'm sorry I didn't know what to say. I'm sorry I didn't know what to do. I...just...the situation..."

He was stumbling now, but she understood his meaning. "Vaughn, stop it." She spoke firmly, her words a reflection of the thoughts she had carefully analyzed over the course of the day. "You don't ever have to say anything, or do anything. You just have to be there, and you have." Her voice was no longer steady, her eyes filling with tears, but she turned to face him, her hands on his arms. "You always have. I don't know if you know how much that means to me."

Sydney looked him over as her reassurance began to soften the worry on his face. There could only be one response to the expression that took its place, she realized, stepping forward so that they were painfully close. His eyes — the green and the blue and the gold and the black — stared into hers, conveying what he wanted, asking if she wanted the same. Asking if she wanted to give this another try.

Yes, she thought, heart pounding, unable to vocalize it. The look in her eyes must have been sufficient, because he lowered his mouth to hers, sending a shock through her system as lips met lips.