I thank you all for your great reviews. I wouldn't have done another chapter of this story but since you asked for it, and I myself was curious to see where I'd go with it, I decided to write another one, and who knows, there might be more.

I wrote this chapter a while ago, and was sort of stuck on the SML part, not knowing if I should be very descriptive or not. After asking a friend, I decided I'd do minor SML instead of major. So I'm very sorry if there are parts of this story that you find similar to The French Connection written by Souris. I did tell this writer about this when I read her/his story that it was a bit the same at some places, but that I wouldn't rewrite my story anyway because the outcome was different. I'm French, so it was normal for me to write a story where they speak French. I just wanted to clear this out.

Jeanne, you're a doll for beta'ing for me. God knows it's a huge job since I was born French...but to think of it, so is MV…mmm. Lol! Oh yes and the neck thing? Totally my fetish that I projected on Sydney. Hehehe.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of them even if I'd give anything to own MV. Yeah yeah, I'm obsessed, so what? If you are here reading, it means you are too. Welcome to the club! :o)

Okay, I'm done yapping. What can I say? I'm a woman…

Just another thing, this is also from a song of Alicia Keys. The title is Butterflyz. Pretty song (I might put in the lyrics in just for you later. I know I know, I'm so nice). I just bought the CD, so I'm listening to it often. Hehe. Okay so I shut up now…have a good reading.


Chapter two: Butterflyz

When I came back home that night all I could think of was Vaughn. I don't know why I don't call him Michael. He does call me Sydney and not Bristow. Maybe I watched The X-Files too much…

"Good night, Syd." Francie said standing at the door of my bedroom. "You know what, I never understood why they schedule exams on a Saturday morning. They always do that. Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good luck on your test." I answered back. She has Economics. Ark.

"Thanks." She walks through the door and comes back. "What did you think of Mark's cousin?"

"Nothing." Liar. "Why?" She looks at me weirdly and then speaks to me looking all innocent.

"Oh nothing, I just thought that you might be interested. Good night."

I stay silent and then I go back to the book I'm reading. Did Francie see something? Well, it doesn't really matter, anyway it's so her to tell me something like this and then leave. I look at my watch, it's almost 1:00am. I wonder what he is doing. I should go to bed or I'll never fall asleep and you know, Sydney, that you have to take that idea out of your head. Sydney and Vaughn is not an option. It just isn't. Yeah…tell that to a kid and you'll see what he'll do with the you can't touch this option. But you aren't a kid anymore, and you know the consequences of what this could do to both of you. But he felt so great against you, didn't he? And he smelled very good too, huh? And you just had to touch his neck! Oh it was soft…Maybe he doesn't know, hell sure he doesn't know it!  You looooove necks…especially the men's and it meant more to you than a simple caress. Why do you love them so much? Who knows. It's like a fetish. Go to sleep Syd, think about what you'll do and then on Monday everything will be more clear. I have no idea if it will be clearer but we'll have to talk about that. Him and me. We'll have to talk. We. Sounds nice.


It seems like it's been hours since I went to bed, but it's only 3:00am. I have to think of something else, it's driving me crazy! "Aaaaahhhhh!!!" I sat up in my bed. What did I just do? I yelled? I just yelled in my bed at 3 in the morning? This is getting to you, Michael. You're being irrational. "Oh shut up!" I say to myself. I get out of bed and put a cup of water in the microwave. I open the drawer and take my box of tea. I need something with no caffeine. Chamomile will be perfect. Very manlike, drinking chamomile tea. Humph! Anyway, my heart is pounding so damn hard in my chest that I need something to relax or I won't see my 34th birthday.

I sit down at the kitchen table and start to drink, it's warm and soothing, it feels great. But not as great as Sydney felt in my arms. I close my eyes and squeeze my forehead with my right hand like I often do when something is occupying my thoughts. I take a deep breath. "Sydney Bristow, what are you doing to me?" I say out loud. I still can remember her smell and the feeling of her body close to me. I just wish that that dance never ended, I know it's typical to say, but it is so damn true.

All of my life I was with women that I thought were right for me, but I was so wrong. Boy I was wrong! I should have listened to my mom. She knew. She always knew that Alice wasn't for me, just as much as the other girls I had gone out with weren't. But no, I am a man, I could decide on my own, I didn't need my mom's advice! Stupid pride. I understand now when she told me that you just knew it inside of your heart when you had met the right person.  I always asked myself if I knew and how would I know, but there was no answer. What the knew meant I had no idea before I met Sydney. And it had to be that complicated. I wonder if I should laugh or cry about this. It's a very strong feeling, so strong that you don't know if you should drop dead or take her in your arms every time she is a few feet away from your reach. And you feel it inside; there are butterflies in your stomach as long with the warmth and the fuzzy feeling overwhelming you making you feel as if you had taken a few beers because it takes you forever to answer and react to the surroundings. And the way she touched you tonight…and how you felt when your arms were empty because you had to end the embrace… "We definitely have to talk about this." I say before closing the lights and walking towards my bedroom, my empty bedroom.


Six months later: June 2002

"Hey." I say to Vaughn. He just called me and I knew he would because SD-6 gave me a mission. He answers back the same way I did, but he doesn't stare into my eyes for too long. I know why he does it, he knows I'll see too much into them. It's been this way since that night at the restaurant. I swear to god I wanted to talk about this with him, but we never came to it. When we first saw each other on the next Monday, it was very awkward. He couldn't stop loosening his tie as if it was strangling him and I thought I had lost about 10 pounds of sweat. And when we finally had discussed what we had to discuss about the mission, we both looked at each other not able to break that stare but not able to speak either. And when we finally said at the same time: "About last Friday," my pager beeped and I had to go to SD-6 as soon as possible because Marshall had forgotten to give me a gadget for my mission. So I said I should probably go, and he said I was right, and then we never talked about it again. How the hell can we? We see each other 10 minutes before and after each missions and that's it! That's not a lot to help us deal with it. It: this situation of ours. Maybe it's better to try to forget the whole thing and move on with our lives; so estranged but so much the same.

"Sydney? Are you okay?" He asks me with this concern look I learned to know by heart with time. I take a deep breath not to look too busted. I don't want him to think I wasn't paying attention to what he was saying about the mission. I'm a professional after all.

"I'm fine." I answer him with a small smile looking down at my feet. I can see he doesn't believe me.

"Did you hear anything I've said?" Vaughn asks me but he's not patronising.

"No,  I'm sorry…" I am busted.

"Sydney, we're pass this. What's wrong? You know you can tell me anything." He sits down and put his hands in his pockets. Typical of him. It's funny how I know this because we do not know each other a lot despite of things. But I've always confide in him when it was appropriate to do so, so…

"I know, and that's the problem Vaughn. This." I show him the distance between us with my hands. "This is what's wrong! Me here and you over there…" I stop talking because he's staring at me like I just stabbed him.

"Sydney…" He starts saying shaking his head while looking at his feet trying to find the right words to say to me.

"No need to explain, I know. We would both end up in a coffin or worst: be so damn dead they wouldn't be able to trace our remains. Anyway lets just forget it and tell me what the CIA wants me to do in France." I sit down next to him looking straight in front of me. I know I look pissed. I'm sick of having no personal life.

"That's what I was saying to you earlier when you were god knows where. The CIA wants me to go with you." He turned his head to look at me.

"What?!" I'm stunned. "Why?" I know my eyes are wide open, but I can't help myself.

He smiles. "I had the same reaction…The thing is that SD-6 doesn't know it takes two people to open the safe, or they know it and wants you to get caught. Either way Devlin wants me to go with you.

"But I only have one key, how can we get the other one?" I have no idea where it is.

"Charles DeCourval's wife has it in her possession. Where? We'll have to find it, but I think it may be somewhere in the child's room. It's a nice place to hide certain things of your life you don't want other people to find. And this virus cure certainly is something you don't want people knowing about even if SD-6 got wind of it. It's worth a lot and DeCourval used to do things for SD-6 in the early 70s." He must have seen the anxious face I was making. "Don't worry he doesn't know you." Vaughn quickly added. "We made sure of it."

"Okay, lets do this then." I said back. Anyway, what choice do I have? "You know that my ID is Amélie Dupré?"

"Yes, and mine will be Pierre Montand." He gives me a tiny earphone. "We will communicate by this –you probably know how it works by now-- you put it in your ear. So, do you speak French?" I take the earphone in my hand.

"A little. But I'm not the best at it." I always had problem learning French, only god knows why.

"Okay, I speak it fluently so we'll be fine."

"Oh." I'm speechless. That's true. "I had forgotten you came from Fleury" I had to say something it was too weird. He smiled back but we came to a realisation that we know so little about ourselves despite of everything. "What is your assigned specialty? Mine is Genetics with all that DNA stuff and double helix crap." I look down. "I hope I won't get harassed by questions." I'm not a genius in genetics. Anyway, who is, besides the freaks that study it for 20 years?

"Mine is Organic Chemistry. I think that we can take care of this if someone ever asks us questions." He looks confident.

"Sure, so I'll see you tomorrow?" I don't know why but I'm sort of happy I'll see him in action. It will be different for a change.

"Yes. At the airport, don't look at me or anything." He instructed me.

"Of course." We aren't supposed to know each other. What a surprise!


The Day after at DeCourval's house, 7pm

Sydney walked into the crowd and saw Vaughn talking to the wife, Vanessa DeCourval, in French. He already made contact, that's good. I'm hungry, but there was no time to spend eating, there was work to do, and the sooner the better. He looks very handsome tonight, and the wife looks like she thinks so too. "Vaughn, it looks like she is a fervent admirer. That's good, try to occupy them –the husband included- while I go upstairs and try to find that key." He coughs and I saw him look at me intensively, and then he smiled to make it less weird. My heart jumped about 90 feet high. God he looks sexy in his dark blue suit. Anyway, focus Sydney. Then I hear him say he'll get a glass of champagne. What's going on? He smiles to both of them and then walks away. He cough again, puts his hand in front of his mouth and then I hear him. "She has the key on her as a necklace Syd."

"Damn, but we have no choice but to get it." I pause. "I have an idea, get with her and I'll try to get with the hubby. Dance or something." Dance. Humph!  "I know you can, and try to take the key from her without her noticing. After that we'll have to act pretty fast or she'll see she's not wearing it anymore." I look at the picture on the wall, trying not to move my lips much while talking.

"I'll do my best to charm her." He answers boyishly with a grin.

"You do that and I'll entertain Monsieur DeCourval." I see him grin even more.

"Men." I tell him and I know he is giggling. "Pierre DeCourval is a very ugly man. I wonder why his wife ever married him because she looks nice. Maybe for the money…or she was drunk and woke up with a ring to her finger. Hehehe." I see him try not to smile. "Good luck."

"Thank you." He politely reply to me, walking towards Madame DeCourval.

I see her smile to him. "I guess she's happy to see you again." I whisper in his ear to not make myself be heard by the people around me. "You go get her, she doesn't look immune to your charms."

"How could she be?" He replies to me getting closer to the target. "She's a woman." He dares to look at me a fraction of a second and I can see a tiny smile at the corner of his mouth. I feel myself blush but I have to think of something to answer back.

"Oh yes, so I never told you I used to be a Japanese man?"  I say to him at the same time that he approaches Vanessa. He burst out laughing, uh-oh, but I see that she is pleased he did so. Mmmm, she must have said something funny then. Good, or it would have been very awkward. Be careful Sydney…I smile at myself and walk to go get the husband. I'll talk to him about anything just to keep him busy. Piece of cake.


I can't believe I'm here in France with Sydney. The last time I was here was years ago with my mother at her family's house. It's weird to be here again in other circumstances, but I'm very pleased to be so. I look at Sydney about a fraction of a second while taking a sip of the champagne and I put my gaze back on Madame DeCourval. Sydney looks so great tonight, so classy. She has a long black dress that just sticks to her skin with a slit on the side on the left side and spaghetti straps. She tied her hair into a low bun with gives her features a nice look. I thought I was running out of air when I first saw her, but I had to look casual. She doesn't look like a Japanese man to me...oh no.

Anyway, I have to get the key. I see it on Mrs. DeCourval's neck and I have to get my hands on it. I ask her to dance. I know it's what Sydney suggested, but it's actually a good idea. The dance floor is darker and it will be easier to do it without anyone noticing…especially those big security guards watching everybody. We start dancing and I talk to her about nothing in particular, she is very annoying. The woman can't stop yapping. Sigh! How can so many words come out of one single mouth? I have no idea. I see the locket of the necklace and I get a good look on how to open it. It's a simple slide on, it will be easy. I wouldn't be surprised if Vanessa DeCourval didn't even know what was the key for. Her husband probably told her to keep it safe without telling her why.  Now is the time to do it.

I make a bad move on the dance floor and I trip on her foot, I try to hold on to her by the shoulders for her not to fall (she drank too much champagne), which allows me to press the locket and slide it in my hand. "I'm so sorry, are you okay?" I ask her very innocently.

"Oh yes dear, I'm fine. Maybe you shouldn't dance anymore, you could kill someone." She says back, looking as if I had mud on me. Pppfff! La Bourgeoisie! Those rich people can be so snobby sometimes. I smile even so, I'm so good at having a face and feeling completely different from what I show to others.

"Of course, I'm not a very good dancer, if you'll excuse me…" And with that I leave the dance floor, I see Sydney talking to a group of people and Monsieur DeCourval is speaking to them also. "I got it." I tell her. She smiles at the group and I hear her excuse herself.

"Meet me in the office." She answers back before heading for the door leading to the basement. She looks very casual, like everybody there and then she just vanished, like a pro. I'm impressed. I do the same about five minutes later and now we are both in the office. I see her opening the Monet painting like a door. So classic.

"Why would anyone hide a safe behind a painting when we all know it's the classic way to do so?" I ask her, ready to enter the key and turn it.

"I know, you'd think of something more clever coming from such a smart man." She pause and looks at me. "Ready?" I nod. "On the count of three. One. Two. Three." Saying three we both turned the key clockwise. And the automatic doors opened showing us the file that contains the formula of the cure. I take it, open it and yes, that's what we were looking for: the formula.

"Bingo." I say to her smiling. It has 10 pages, which Sydney photographs. I take the paper and put it in my pocket inside of my vest. As we are about to climb the stairs we hear footsteps. I didn't even have the time to blink as Sydney takes me by the collar and pulls me into what looked like a closet, and a very tiny one I might add. I wasn't about to say anything but I felt her finger on my mouth about 3 seconds, warning me not to speak. I want to tell her I'm not stupid enough to do that but I don't. She knows I'm not stupid and I know the only reason that I want to clarify this is because of my manly pride. Now is not the time. I try to stand still but it's very hard. It's dark as black oil, I don't see a thing, but I sure as hell can feel her body pressed against mine and I know her mouth is about two inches away from mine. Sigh! I wonder if she can hear my heart pounding because it's about to burst out of my chest. I never thought I was so strong, because I'm asking myself why I'm not pressing her closer to me and kissing her until next year. I suddenly woke up. My hands, where are they?!  They are steadily resting on her hips. Oh god…I don't move or I have no idea what will happen if I do. Her hands are resting still on my chest and I can hear her breathing. The men's voices are about a few feet away only. I pray they wont find us here because I know what scenario we will have to do to get out of this mess: The Make-Out Scenario. The oldest one that ever existed, but it's working almost every time. And I really, really don't want to find myself kissing Sydney Bristow. Why? Because I know I will not be able to let go. And that would be very embarrassing.

There are foot steps on the other side of the door and I'm sure the guy will open the door. If I was the one doing the security, I would have. Sydney is getting closer to me, putting a hand on the back of my neck, ready to act if he opens the door. God she smells good. I'm going to die.

"It's clear!" We heard another man say from the other side of the hallway. "Come on, let's get upstairs." And then the footsteps sound the more and more away from us. I feel Sydney relax in my arms and she put her forehead on my right shoulder, letting out a deep breath.

"That was close." She tells me. Did I just dream it or her voice is shaky? And she also looks flushed. It's true that it was pretty hot in that closet, but still…I look at her and there's an awkward moment between us. She steps a few feet back.

"I should go upstairs and drop the necklace on the dance floor before leaving the house." Sydney tells me. "It will be easier if I do it alone. You, you get out by that window," she shows me the one she is talking about, "there are no security cameras on this side, I've checked it out earlier. The guards were suspecting something, so I prefer to be the one to do it in case something happens…you know." She seems a bit embarrassed to say so, but I know she is better trained than me for those sort of things.

"It's okay, I understand. I'll see you at the airport." I tell her and then she disappears. I stand there, looking at the empty hall for a few seconds, having no idea at that moment how fast Sydney Bristow's heart was beating, and having no clue either how close she came to kissing me.


Everything went very well until we arrive at the airport. There were hundreds of people talking loud and looking very pissed at something. I walked to the woman who was trying to calm an old lady who looked as if she was going to bang her with her cane.

"Excusez-moi Madame, pourrais-je savoir ce qui se passe?" I ask her politely.

"Aucun avion décollera ce soir Monsieur. Il y a eu des attentats terroristes une fois de plus et tous les vols sont bloqués jusqu'à nouvel ordre. Nous sommes désolés mais ceci est une question de sécurité.``

``Merci.`` I tell her. I'm thinking Oh shit, and then I see Sydney. I can go talk to her because everybody seems to talk to one another, looking pissed.

"What's going on?" She asks me in a low voice, looking at the crowd of people.

"Looks like its terrorist-related again, and no planes are leaving tonight until everything is cleared." I tell her while taking a deep breath.

"You can't be serious?!" Sydney says to me, looking quite desperate.

"Do I look like I'm kidding? I'm dead serious." I answer back, looking at the Euro I have in my wallet. "I don't have much money…and we can't go to a bank to exchange American money for the European's it's too late and no records can be made of us here." Sydney opens her purse and shows me that she only has dollars. Great. It leaves us one option. "I know where to spend the night, take the metro and it will lead you to the next town. Get off at Rue Papineau. I'll meet you there. Okay? Trust me." I give her the money for the metro and she leaves for it –it's a few floors down. I'll take the bus, because I have to go buy some food. I'm starved and I bet she is too.


Everything goes well, I am now at Vaughn's point of rendezvous point and I'm waiting for him, sitting on the bench. It's a warm night, the wind is a little chilly but I am overwhelmed by the beauty and calm of this town. If only it was like this all the time. I have to say that I love action, but sometimes I'd give anything to have a simple life. Humph! I look at my watch, it's 9:30pm and there is no sight of Vaughn yet. God I wanted to kiss him earlier when we were hiding in the closet! He smelled so good, and he was so close, and his skin felt so soft and for a tiny fraction of a second I wasn't hearing the men's voices, I was daydreaming of what his sweet lips could feel on mine and what he would taste like and if he is a good kisser…oh I'm sure he is a good kisser. He looks like one, he is so caring and sweet. How can he not be?

I wait a bit more, and then I see him walking towards me with a bag that looks like there's food in it. Food! God, I am so hungry!

"Hey, I thought food would be greatly appreciated." He tells me with a smile.

"I'm starved!" I tell him. "Where are we going?" I can't help but being a little curious.

"My grandparents' house." He answers me while we are walking. "They are in the Caribbean Islands so it's empty. I know where the key is."

"Oh…" I can't think of anything else to say, it seems so weird to enter his private life like this. I smile and look ahead of me, having no idea that we have already arrived at the house. I'm still walking when I feel his hand taking mine.

"Hey, we're here." He tells me showing me the house. It's very beautiful, it must be a hundred years old. There's a long road to the house, about 200 feet, and there are flowers everywhere. It looks like a dream house. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" He must have seen my face fill with wonder. "I remember we used to come here every summer when I was a kid with my mom because my dad was often on a trip –well, I know what his trips were now- and I loved it. I didn't want to leave." And I perfectly understand why. It's magical.

"I bet you didn't. I may chain myself to the door…" He smiled at my words. I had to swallow hard, because the moon was making his lovely face looks lovelier. He then gave me the food bag because he went looking for the key of the house, and it's only at that moment that I realized we were still holding hands. Seriously, why didn't I notice? Maybe because it feels so natural…

We walked in and it seemed as if I was walking into his entire life. Family pictures were on the walls of the living room, and it was so warm in there, I felt welcome. Vaughn went to the kitchen to put the things in the refrigerator and I just walked to the fire place where a bunch of pictures were laying there. There was a picture of what looked like an eight year old kid with his dad fishing. "Is this you, the kid fishing in the picture?" I asked him before I could stop myself. He said yes as I walked in the kitchen. I loved the walls of the house, they were all made of rocks. I could see the oil lamp on the wood table. I felt like I was in the early 1900s. I smiled.

"My grandparents are very traditional, they didn't want to put electricity everywhere in the house." He shrugged. "They are like that." He explained to me feeling a bit uncomfortable. "But there's hot water in the bathroom, thank god!"

"Honestly, I like it." I said as I took the vegetables out of the bag and started cutting them. We stood in silence for a long time, me cutting the vegetables, him preparing the chicken breasts after putting some wood in the oven  -it was one of those ovens you had to start a fire in to make it work. The silence wasn't uninvited, it was nice in fact, being able to do our little things walking around the place looking for knives, forks, spoons to set up the table. I was looking at the wine glass when it struck me that we didn't have wine.

"Would you care for some wine? There's a few bottles in the basement." And then he added as if he had to make me know it wasn't his intent to get me drunk: "We could take one, they won't be bothered by it." He must have seen me stare at the wine glasses.

"Sure, if you want it too." I said back. I rarely say no to wine. "There's nothing better than a good bottle of wine with a great meal."

"Red or white?" He asks me before going down the stairs to the cave.

"I prefer red." Red wine has so much more taste. Well, in my opinion.

"Good, me too."

The dinner goes just fine, we talk a lot about nothing and everything, trying to put the SD-6/CIA work on the side for once…well, for a second time. Anyway, we concluded earlier that Sloane must have heard that there's a problem with the planes, so he won't send a troops after me. We must have spent two hours eating and talking, and it's funny because I feel like we are on a date, even if it's not really one. Not that we flirt, because we don't really. But it's the look in his eyes that tells me he does care, and the simple touch we can have that gives me shivers all over my body that make all the difference between two people from opposite sex. You know how it is when you feel so mentally close to someone even if you are physically far apart from each other? That is what I'm feeling right at this moment.

We do the dishes because we know we won't want to do it tomorrow morning, and I just have to hold my breath every time he passes close to me to put the things back where they belong. I hear him say sorry to me because he has to arrange something in the far reach cupboard and his left hand is resting on my shoulder for balance. "It's okay." I reply staring at the water smiling softly. He smiles shyly, doesn't look at me and then takes his wine glass, fills it in silence, and goes outside to sit on the swing that is on the porch. I look down, take a deep breath and do the same. I sit next to him, not wondering about closeness this time. These last nine months, we've learned to know each other, confide in each other things that we could only talk with each other, and after tonight, I think it's more likely that we are not strangers and can behave more as friends. Friends. I take a sip of wine. "I can't believe how lovely it is here." I tell him staring at the moon. The garden is full of colourful flowers and it smells like real fresh air. The fresh air of Los Angeles is nothing compared to this one.

"I know." Vaughn answers simply.


I don't feel like talking much. We talked a lot at the table and right now I feel like silence is the choice to make. I don't trust the words coming out of my mouth, and I don't trust myself with her sitting so close to me. I cling to my glass of wine as if I could die if one hand let go of it, I'm lucky it didn't break yet. I take a deep breath to calm myself but it won't work: my heart is still beating 100 miles an hour because of Sydney Bristow. She looks at me but I refuse to look at her or I'll lose control. I want to organize my thoughts but they are jumping crazy in my head, and I am trying hard not to admit that I am falling in love with her. I am. I know now, and it's killing me. Sydney's voice bring me out of my thoughts.

"Thank you for the dinner," she tells me standing up, "I'm gonna go take a shower and then go to bed."

"Thank you too." I say, god she's gorgeous in that dress. Please don't stutter. "Sure, you can take whatever bedroom you want on the second floor." And I'll take the farthest one from it, I wanted to add, but I didn't thank god. There's an awkward moment where we just stare at each other and then she says to me in the sweetest voice that is so hers:

"Good night, Michael."

"Good night Sydney." Did she just call me Michael? I watch her walk away, and then I close my eyes, squeezing the muscle between my eyebrows and I take a sip of my wine. I need it. I try to relax a couple of minutes, and when I open my eyes, I know that Sydney must be into bed. It must have been an hour. I turn off all of the lights, go take a shower and then open the door of the bedroom of the first floor. I don't want to be upstairs next to her…too risky for my sanity.

I must have turned over and over again about five hundreds times in my bed that my boxers and T-shirt became all twisted around me. I decide to go for a glass of hot water, maybe this could calm me, so I get up and walk in the kitchen. Just as I tell myself I must have forgotten to put out the oil lamp of the kitchen, I see Sydney opening the cupboard to take a glass of water and I gasp at the sight of her. Dear god! She is only wearing a dark blue tank top and her panties! I am about to have an heart attack, but she finally see me, let out a cry of surprise, banging her head on the open door of the cupboard before looking embarrassed and pressing her hand of her forehead, saying:

"I thought you were sleeping!" Her shocked face wants to make me laugh but it wouldn't be a good time to do so.

"Obviously." I tell her as she looks at her fingers to see if there's blood on them.

She catches the meaning of my answer and blushes slightly. She looks awesome. "Come here," I show her the light,  "I'll take a look at your forehead." She walks closer to me and I brush her hair out of her face in order to see her hairline more clearly because that is where the door hit her. "There's a small scratch but no wound. I can guarantee you you'll survive." I smile and she pouts her lips. What is it with women and pouting lips? We are so close it's driving me crazy. I still have my hands in her hair and it's so soft I don't want to take them out. I know I'm loosing control because my heart is racing and one of my hands is caressing her cheek. She closes her eyes, obviously enjoying, and I am now sure at one hundred per cent as she gets even closer to my body that I just signed my death warrent. Uh-oh. My head is spinning just by the anticipation, and words are popping in my head: CIA, SD-6, handler. The hell with them! I take a great look at her as she stares at me with her big brown eyes and I'm lost in them. I lick my lips and slide my hand from her cheek to the back of her neck as I  bend down and meet her lips in the most amazing kiss I have ever experienced. Her lips are so soft, and her skin is so soft too that I can't control my hands from caressing the back of her neck, her shoulders and her arms. She put her arms around my neck and presses herself on me, demanding more as she opens her lips to me. I accept willingly her offer as I start to explore her mouth. The contact of her tongue is giving me shivers and I hear her groan from pleasure which multiplies my level of desire for her and I ravage her lips, deepening the kiss more and more, and I find my hands under her tank top on her naked skin caressing her spine. Uh-oh, will I get my ass kicked? We broke the kiss at the same time, both gasping for air, both flushed from desire, both caressing each other as I feel her hands under my shirt. I look at her eyes and I see from the way she stares into my eyes and then at my lips and then from the way she shivers under my touch that there isn't one fiber of her body that doesn't want me. I want her so bad it hurts like hell, and I want to kill myself for what I'm about to say but I say it nonetheless.

"Sydney…" I say to her still catching my breath as I delicately give her butterflies kisses on her neck, focusing more on the sensitive skin below the ear. I'm very aware that she is pulling my shirt over my head and that her hands are doing things to me that I don't want them to ever stop doing.

"Yes, Michael…?" To hear her saying my name in such a passionate state is making me shiver.

"I'm your handler…" I try to reason her while I brush her lips with mine. Yeah, sure…that will work!

"Then shut up and handle me." She answers back in a whisper before kissing me passionately. I surrender…of course. We collapse against the wall as she shamelessly presses her body on me in such a suggestive manner that I can't mix up her intentions. Her touch is driving me wild and I just feel as if I would die on the spot if someone came barging in here and stopped this swirl of sensations that is building itself up in my body and soul. "God, Sydney, what are you doing to me?" I say to her between kisses, or maybe while I was catching up my breath -I don't remember which one. Her smell is intoxicating me, and my brain doesn't have any more smart cells working at this moment. Next thing I know, we are on the bed naked and we just keep on feeling and tasting each others, very aware that our breathing is heavy and filled with pure desire. So help me god.


Yes I was embarrassed when he saw me in my underwear, and yes I saw the solitary fraction of a second light of desire cross his eyes when he acknowledged I was practically naked, but no I can't say it didn't make my heart jump a beat. Oh it did, and I'm sure I blushed.

I just thought I was going to faint when he touched me for the first time tonight, after I hit my head on the open door of the cupboard. Of course it wasn't the first time our skin ever made contact, but it was a first that he touched me this way. Oh the feel of his hand on my cheek, and then the look of his eyes losing themselves in mine, I knew something was going to happen. It was inevitable, we had danced around it too much. And then the way he licked his lips…ah…it was more than I could handle. But the major thing: he smells so damn good!

So when he just leaned over and pressed his lips on mine, it was a good thing he was holding me a little because I would have ended up on the floor. His kiss was at first very light, sweet and gentle: every girl's dream kiss, I can assure you. But then after the lip contact was made, I opened my lips and he did the same and I caught his lower lip as he caught my upper one between our lips. He then moved his hand on the back of my neck sending me chills and our tongue touched, giving me butterflies and I just couldn't stop myself. My arms are around his neck, and I know I'm pressing my body way too much on his because I feel every inch of his arousal but I don't give a shit if he thinks that makes me a slut. Anyway, he is a man so I'm sure he doesn't mind. The kiss is getting wild, and it keeps deepening, and our breathing is heavy and almost raged. His hands are both on my hips and I can feel them pressing against my skin sliding under my tiny tank top caressing my back, sliding along the line of my spine, sending me to heaven. Oh yes, don't worry Sydney, he doesn't think you're a slut. He wants you just as much as you want him. Good. And how dare he cut that wonderful kiss?!

"Then shut up and handle me…" I tell him in a breath, and he better not try to do this again or I'll lose my mind.

We finally get to the bed. Don't ask me how, I have no idea. We are both naked, devouring each other, which is very good to let out a nine months sexual frustration. But even so, Vaughn's touch is so soft, warm and caring that I don't think I will be able to live a long time without it on me. It's like he's known me forever, like he knows exactly where to touch me to give me pleasure and make my body explode…which happens eventually.

I'm lying on top of him, and we are both out of energy, gasping for air as we are trying to calm ourselves. His hands are caressing my back and I have my head on his hairy chest, playing with it between my fingers. Nine months ago I would have never thought I was going to end up here in this man's arms feeling that it's where I belong. I close my eyes, trying to keep the tears that are burning my eyes from coming out. I don't want to cry because I am happy, but with tonight I let go of a part of my past life. Making love to Vaughn sort of meant I was saying goodbye to Danny. I passed the test and I made it just fine. I smile to myself. Yes, Danny was my past and Michael is my future. He kisses my forehead.

"You're ok ?" He asks me as he always does with concern in his voice. I know he saw the tears, and the poor guy must think a million things right now.

"I'm fine," I say to him smiling, looking into his beautiful green eyes, "I am so falling in love with you, Vaughn…Michael…" He smiles at me, caressing my cheek and whipping off the tears with his hand. I am falling in love with Michael Vaughn, and I know it's better for us not to make a habit of calling him Michael.

"Sydney," he tells me very seriously, "I've loved you since that day I've laid eyes on you." And with this he kisses me gently, and we hold each others in silence. We are very aware that it could complicate our work, and we know that it will mean constant vigilance on both part in our missions for SD-6 and the CIA. We know that if one of us ever gets caught it will mean that we are caught, because no logical reasoning will probably come out of it, and trouble will be ahead. We knew it could happen, but now we know it's likely to happen. One of these days.

One of these days one of us will get hurt.


Butterflyz by Alicia Keys:

Lately when I look into your eyes / I realize you're the only one I need in my life / Baby I just don't know how to describe / How lovely you make me feel inside.

You give me butterflyz / That got me flying so high in the sky / I can't control the butterflyz.

It seems like the likely thing / From the start you told me I'd be your queen / But never had I imagined such a feeling / Joy is what you bring / I want to give you everything.

You and I / Our destiny / I know why / You were made for me.

I can't control it / It's driven me / Taken over me / And I love you / You give me butterflyz…

You're giving me something I can feel / You give me butterflyz / I can't control the way I feel inside / No, I can't control it.