The Beauty of the Rain

I really like this fic so far. I definitely miss season 2. It was so much simpler back then, and Vaughn certainly wasn't GONE. I also like the theme idea you have going on. Please PM me when you update!
 
He nods and you half wish that he would tell you not to go so soon, to stay and listen to his life story. You wish you could ask him why your mother thinks that he doesn’t sleep while she’s on missions. Deep down, you think you know why – for the same reason why you look forward to going to that dank, dim warehouse. But hearing him say it is so different. It would change everything.

Will he be sleepless tonight?
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:love: Aww.... I loved that part... It's so Sydney and Vaughn. *sigh* :smiley:

Great update. Thanks for the pm.
 
OMG! this is awesome!! wait.. im not supposed to be reading! im supposed to be posting MY fics.. oy im soooo easily sidetracked...
Pm when you update?
thankies
~Elektra~
 
Finally. A new chapter. Spent the past few days studying for an exam, so I'm sorry about the delay.

Everyone who asked to be PMed is now on my list. Thanks for the positive feedback!

Two

Two seconds inhale and four seconds exhale.

Control your breath, jogging through the park, on your way to the secret entry into the CIA offices. Today you take the long way, an extra long run. You noticed earlier that you were anticipating going there today, because he would be there. To punish yourself, a long run.

The mission was another success. Dixon was on another assignment, so you were on your own, without back up, which you prefer. Fewer lies to tell. Or, the same amount of lies, but fewer people to hear them. The CIA got what they wanted and SD 6 didn’t. Just another day in the life of a double agent.

Methodical muffled sound of footsteps on grass punctuates your thoughts. You’re almost at the “homeless” man, the one who lets the office know that you’re coming so they can check and see if you’re being tracked. In the months you’ve been doing this, nothing. Wonder what that man’s original job was.

Slow down as you pass him so that you can be sure he noticed you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him scratch his ear and mumble something. He saw you. Now it’s the out-of-order pay phone. The three digit code of the week, into the door that opens. It’s something you do so often it’s almost becoming mundane. As if anything about the life of a double agent is mundane.

You walk down the dank passageway, putting on the sweatshirt you had tied around your waist. Wouldn’t be appropriate to walk around a CIA office in a sports bra. You feel weird enough there, being the only one not in a suit.

Before the passageway brings you to another hallway, one bustling with people, a hand reaches out and grabs you. Involuntarily, you gasp and your senses heighten until the hand’s owner steps out of the darkness and you see that it’s Vaughn. You take a deep breath, look at him questioningly.

“Hey,” he says, smiling. He’s happy to see you, or so you like to think every time he looks at you like that.

You ask him what he’s doing there. He shrugs nonchalantly, as if he lurks in dark corners on a regular basis. His call sign is “Boy Scout” – he’s not a lurker. Give him a pointed look. Another shrug from him, then, simply, “I wanted to see you.”

Your eyes dart up to meet his green ones. There’s something in his voice, something that’s been there before – when he told you about his father’s watch. “This watch belonged to my father. It’s broken now, but it used to keep perfect time. And when he gave it to me, he said you could set your heart by this watch. It stopped October 1st. The day we met.” To this day, you damn the beepers that went off. Where was he going with that? It’s been weeks since that day and even though you never really finished that conversation, you never thought he’d bring something up along those lines again.

Stay silent, waiting, hoping. He just looks into your eyes and you feel yourself getting impatient. Then you’re completely frustrated as the sound of voices comes near and he breaks the unofficial staring contest, nervously looking in that direction. No one comes. Of course. Reach up with your hand to turn his face towards you again. Hope to refocus his attention.

An almost woeful smile plays on his lips and you know the moment is over. Remove your hand, which is being tickled by the stubble on his cheek. He sighs. Smile a little and move as if you plan on walking away. He takes your hand. “Wait,” he says.

You wait. Isn’t that what you always do for him? He moistens his lips, as if he’s nervous. Maybe he is. Some more silence. It occurs to you that Kendall is going to curious about the gap between when the “homeless” man – you’ll have to ask his name of these days – notified the office that you were coming in and when you actually showed up in the rotunda. “Vaughn,” you prompt him, letting him know that while you would love to stay in that semi-lit passageway all day, just looking at him, it wouldn’t be practical.

“Meet me. Tonight. 11 PM, the pier,” he says in a rush. You nod in agreement, almost stunned, and walk away from him.

Great. Now how are you supposed to get through the rest of the day?
 
I worship the ground upon which you walk write...

:notworthy:

It's so gorram unique! I don't know how else to say it, it's just... Unique. The only word capable of describing your writing, because I've never read anything like it :D

Before the passageway brings you to another hallway, one bustling with people, a hand reaches out and grabs you. Involuntarily, you gasp and your senses heighten until the hand’s owner steps out of the darkness and you see that it’s Vaughn. You take a deep breath, look at him questioningly.

“Hey,” he says, smiling. He’s happy to see you, or so you like to think every time he looks at you like that.
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Hi... :love:

*sits and stares*

Seriously though, love how you wrote that bit. What she feels when he touches her so briefly, the simple 'Hey' from Vaughn that can speak a million words, and the popping out of the darkness, of course. :lol: But it was just so well written, and I have to say... I love your short chapters. Short and sweet, I say! And I guess the shorter it is, the more importance you allocate to the words... ;)

You ask him what he’s doing there. He shrugs nonchalantly, as if he lurks in dark corners on a regular basis. His call sign is “Boy Scout” – he’s not a lurker. Give him a pointed look. Another shrug from him, then, simply, “I wanted to see you.”
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He wanted to see her!? Aww... That just makes me so happy. 😌 (*whispers* It doesn't take much to amuse me :P)

Your eyes dart up to meet his green ones. There’s something in his voice, something that’s been there before – when he told you about his father’s watch. “This watch belonged to my father. It’s broken now, but it used to keep perfect time. And when he gave it to me, he said you could set your heart by this watch. It stopped October 1st. The day we met.” To this day, you damn the beepers that went off. Where was he going with that? It’s been weeks since that day and even though you never really finished that conversation, you never thought he’d bring something up along those lines again.
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Ignoring the fact that I'm practically rolling around on the floor, dying of cuteness, I absolutely love the fact that you tie in loose bits and pieces from S/V scenes in S2... Or was it S1 when he said the watch thing? :confused: *puzzled* Hmm... Whichever it was, I love the way you tie those things in... ;)

I also love the fact that this fic is based in S2! The best season of them all! *cheesy grin* :D

Stay silent, waiting, hoping.
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Short quote, but I couldn't resist... I love all the blunt sentences you use, how precise they are. It's... I've lost the word now. :rolleyes:

An almost woeful smile plays on his lips and you know the moment is over. Remove your hand, which is being tickled by the stubble on his cheek. He sighs. Smile a little and move as if you plan on walking away. He takes your hand. “Wait,” he says.
Click to expand...

*clutches chest*

:shock:

WAIT?!

You wait. Isn’t that what you always do for him? He moistens his lips, as if he’s nervous. Maybe he is. Some more silence. It occurs to you that Kendall is going to curious about the gap between when the “homeless” man – you’ll have to ask his name of these days – notified the office that you were coming in and when you actually showed up in the rotunda. “Vaughn,” you prompt him, letting him know that while you would love to stay in that semi-lit passageway all day, just looking at him, it wouldn’t be practical.
Click to expand...

*sits and stares*

Honestly... You amaze me.

:notworthy:

“Meet me. Tonight. 11 PM, the pier,” he says in a rush. You nod in agreement, almost stunned, and walk away from him.

Great. Now how are you supposed to get through the rest of the day?
Click to expand...

:thud:

I... Am speechless. Completely and utterly speechless... I um... Uh... :Paranoid: What the heck am I supposed to say after an update like that?! Except maybe your writing is incredibly incredible, so incredible that I'm overusing the word incredible... :Pinch:

One last word: Update. Soon. (Okay, so that was two. Here's a third: Please? :angelic:)

Cai
x
 
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