Chapter 15 - Daylight

On this morning, the nightmares did not wake him. She wasn't discovered. Hadn't disappeared. Wasn't dead.

And that, Vaughn realized as he slid calmly into consciousness, was because Sydney was the warm presence beside him in bed.

He rolled over to glance at her bedside clock and thanked his internal clock for waking him up early enough to linger for awhile. His movement stirred her from sleep, and she jerked awake, sitting upright with her hands balled into fists.

"Whoa, easy," he said, as she quickly took in her surroundings and relaxed, sliding back down under the covers. "Did anybody ever tell you that you wake like a soldier?" It wasn't any of the loving greetings he had planned, but none of those had been designed to deal with the split-second feeling that she might do some damage before the wildness left her eyes.

"Sorry," she smiled shyly, eyes a little sad. "Not used to this."

By "this," he assumed she meant waking so close to someone else. She had explained as much to him the night before, telling him softly that this was her first time since Danny. That had wrought a quick analysis on his part, and a realization that his sex life had ended shortly after his first glimpse of pink hair. He had shared this with her, adding, "If we could wait this long, I think we can take it slow."

This response had earned him a delicate smile. His actions shortly thereafter, a gasp. He had treasured both.

His slid his arm across her stomach and moved closer, feeling her tense momentarily and then relax, drawing closer. After last night, he thought, it shouldn't feel strange to touch her.

But it did. Strange and new and wonderful.

She frowned, glancing at the clock. "You've got work, huh?"

"Yeah," he said. "I'd call in sick but we've still got a lot of work ahead of us. Plus I'd never hear the end of it from Weiss."

She laughed, then turned serious. "How are things going?"

"About as well as can be expected," he said. "We may be able to release some people next week, including Dixon and Marshall." Sydney nodded as he added nervously, "Devlin's been getting antsy about you."

She sighed. "Vaughn, I did think about it. I really did. But I can't go back."

"As a senior officer, I would have to be disappointed in your decision," he said, mocking an official tone before shifting and placing a cautious, careful kiss on her lips. "But I understand. And honestly, I'm glad."

"Glad?" she questioned. "Whatever happened to me being 'too damn good at what I do to give it up'?"

"You are," he told her. "But I'm too damn good at worrying about you."

"Not anymore." She grinned and moved to stand. "Come on. I suppose you need a ride back to your car."

Exit from the bed and recovery of clothing was a quick process, marked by averted eyes. Certain portions of their relationship, Vaughn realized, were going to take some time to adjust to. Less than a week ago, protocol had frowned upon him even touching her.

"I'll be in the kitchen," she told him after he sought directions to the bathroom, calling over her shoulder, "And at some point I'll give you the grand tour."

It wasn't until she arrived in the kitchen that Sydney remembered Will's propensity for coming over to steal breakfast. He had his back turned to her, pouring a himself a cup of coffee, when she walked in.

There's no way this won't go badly, she thought, freezing at the entrance.

Rationally, she tried to tell herself that Will was an intelligent guy, and that he had to have figured out what happened when she and Vaughn never returned to the bar booth. Of course, she realized, that didn't mean Will would take it any better. It also didn't explain why he hadn't decided to stop at a doughnut shop or forego breakfast on this particular morning. But she knew Will well enough to know why he was there — an odd combination of hope and a curiosity that overwhelmed everything else.

"Morning," she choked out as he turned around.

"Hey, Syd." A smile. A hopeful smile.

She could hear Vaughn's footsteps in the hallway behind her, and braced herself for Will's reaction. If her stiff gait hadn't given things away, this surely would. As Vaughn stepped into the kitchen, her back was to him, and Sydney was glad she didn't have to deal with his expression as well. The look on Will's face was bad enough.

It resonated with shock, embarrassment, anger and hurt. But most of all, it asked an unanswerable question. 

Why him and not me?

She tried to apologize with her eyes, but he still looked like she had kicked him in the stomach.

Damn it. You wanted me to be happy. I want you to be happy too. Just not the way you want to be happy.

The trio stood silently until Francie walked in. "Uh, good morning?" she asked, reading the situation.

"Morning, Francie." Sydney turned to her and gave her an inappropriately broad smile as thanks for the distraction. "We were just leaving."

"Your keys are right there." Francie pointed to the counter, giving Sydney the look that said, "we will talk later, at length."

Sydney tried to remember where exactly she had left them before deciding it was either on the floor or in the lock, and that it would be probably be better not to find out. "Thanks." She forced herself into motion and picked up the keys, then headed for the door. Vaughn trailed close behind.

Will had recovered enough to plaster a fake smile on his face and say, "See you later," but when Sydney turned to look at him, the absence of hope in his eyes stabbed at her. Eventually, she thought, he would come to realize that this was the reason she had spurned his advances over the years. Eventually, this would let him move on.

She pondered, not for the first time, what would have happened if the events of the week had gone differently. How long she would have gone on comparing every man she knew to Vaughn. How long she would have lied to herself on one level, knowing that her actions on another revealed truths she could not admit. How long she would have held out for something with impossible odds. She still had no answer to this internal debate, and was glad she'd never need it.

They stayed quiet during the drive to the bar, Will's hurt hanging in the air. After she pulled into the parking lot, he leaned over to give her a kiss, tentative in the daylight, until she pulled him closer to bring back the chills.

Things were more awkward, Sydney realized, without liquor in her system and emotions heating the air. We're going to have to make up this protocol as we go along, she thought.

"Call you later?" he asked.

"Sure." Sydney considered adding "love you" to the end, but wasn't sure how to make it sound right. She settled for a smile.

"Be careful," Vaughn said. For a moment, the words still sounded natural.

She squinted her eyes critically. "Of what?"

He chuckled, realizing his traditional end to their conversations wasn't going to work anymore. "Literature."

She watched him, clothes rumpled enough to show they had spent the night on the floor, walk the short distance to his car. We're stumbling through this much more than we would have, she thought, if we would have been able to start three years ago.

Vaughn turned to wave goodbye, the last glimpse of his face and her memories of the night causing her breath to catch. For a second, she tried to bury the reaction, in much the same way that Vaughn had automatically told her to be careful. A smile struck her face as she remembered she could let herself feel whatever she wanted. For awhile she did, forgetting about repercussions and possibilities — and Will.

One thing was certain, Sydney realized, her smile growing wider as she watched him drive away. There was no doubt in her mind that the spark was back.