Chapter 17: Friday - Part 2

After two loads of laundry, three distant fifteen-minute naps from each of the boys at alternate times, and a brief moment of quiet that they spent eating the delicious lasagna, the haggard adults collapsed onto the living room couch. They each sighed at the stillness, laughing as they did it in tandem.

"I never thought sick could be this exhausting," he admitted closing his eyes and flopping the back of his head against the soft cushion. He heard her laugh and cracked an eye seeing her sit in much the same position.

Sydney set her hand over his on the couch between them, "thanks for coming tonight. It really surprised me, but I'm so glad you're here."

"It sounded like a nightmare - I couldn't just leave you on your own."

"You scored some major points tonight."

"How many total points do I have?" Their voices were light and jovial.

"Thirty-eight," she deadpanned.

His eyes were still closed as he chuckled, his fingers twining around hers. "Is that a lot?"

"I don't know, I just said the first number that popped into my head," she joked.

"What time is it?"

Cracking an eye she peeked at the clock hanging over the fireplace. "Nine-fifteen."

"Jesus, really? It feels like it's one in the morning."

They shared a comfortable silence until he felt the couch shift and heard her grunt and stretch as she stood. Peering up with half-closed eyes, "where you goin'?"

"Want a glass of wine?" She moved past at his nod.

Michael sat in quiet contemplation a moment before deciding to speak, though he didn't desire to get up. "Hey, I have a question for you, and I want you to be honest," he called out hearing her distant confirmation. "Does it bother you if I drink around you and the boys? It's something I want to clarify with you."

"Why would it bother me?" Her distant voice was curious.

"Because of Rick."

Sydney emerged a moment later with two glasses of red wine and a soft smile lightening her features. "If alcohol had been the issue, I wouldn't drink."

"I just don't want it to bring up any bad feelings, you know? If it does, boom - done." Punctuating his sentences with a sip of the crimson liquid, she laughed and curled her legs underneath her lithe frame on the opposite end of the couch.

"I didn't blame the alcohol. I'm constantly surprised by how thoughtful you are these things, but don't let this bug you." She punctuated the word 'this' with a nod to the wine in her hand.

They sat quietly for a moment though she could tell that despite what she said he seemed less than satisfied. "Do you not like my answer?"

"I don't ever want to remind you of Rick. You or the boys." While his voice was almost casual but his eyes were fierce in their honesty.

She looked away in a distant ponder, choosing her words carefully before speaking. "I don't...really know what you want me to say. I mean, there are parts of Rick that I miss and there are things that you have in common with him." She saw wrinkles pop out on his forehead and quickly clarified with a hand on his knee, "I don't make comparisons. Please don't think I sit around the house every day comparing you with Rick - I don't."

The wrinkles slowly disappeared and he nodded with a sideways grin, "maybe I'm just overthinking things."

"I spent the first two weeks with you sharing my every detail of my darkest moments, there's plenty to overthink."

They shared a chuckle and enjoyed the silence that followed. After a moment she took a sip of wine and spoke. "Tell me about you. You've heard enough about me and I'm realizing that I really don't know much about you."

"Well, my name's Michael, and I'm a lawyer." Her dimples jumped out as she laughed.

"Why did you become a lawyer?"

"Well, it was partly because of my dad, but I spent a summer as an intern in his office before my senior year of high school and got my feet a little wet."

"And you loved it."

Michael scoffed with a grin, "hell no. I hated almost every minute of that summer."

"Yet -" she left off gesturing with her hand in his direction.

"Yet, here I am. To be fair, I said almost every minute. The last week of summer I got to help prepare for a court case where these grandparents were trying to get custody of their grandkids. Their daughter with a serious drug problem. They'd been given the runaround by the lady's lawyer and they finally decided to get one to help. My job was to take notes and make copies of the paperwork, make sure it was all filed the right way."

"Wow - that's...that's an awful situation."

"Yeah. Up till then, I'd been a glorified secretary and the most I'd heard legal wise from my dad was one-sided chunks of phone conversations about wills, company policies, and advice on hiring and firing for said companies. Boring, boring stuff. But this was the first time I was sucked in. My dad played it so cool, you know? I mean...these people were desperate for hope, and my dad just said, 'don't worry - I'll figure it out'. Nothing rattled that guy, you know? For the first time, I was just...in awe. I begged him to let me stick around and help because I just had to know, you know?"

He hadn't realized how lost he'd become in talking about that case until he finally looked up and saw the supportive and curious gleam in her eyes and the small smile on her lips as she watched him talk about something he truly loved.

"And you guys won the case."

"Nope. The lady's lawyer used a bunch of crap to allow her to keep the kids, not even giving them visitation rights." Michael winced as he remembered them breaking down and sobbing in his father's office.

"But dad didn't give up. He filed again, and again, and again."

"How many times?"

"Fourteen." Michael laughed at her incredulous scoff. "Fourteen times until a judge agreed to a new trial. The mom showed up so high she couldn't remember the lies her lawyer was desperately trying to feed her and the kids went home with their grandparents the same day. My dad let me be a co-counsel for that one. I mean, it was sitting at the table and pretending to take notes; hand him a glass of water if he needed it, those kinds of things."

Pausing, he lifted the wine glass and took a drink, leaning back against the soft cushion of the couch wearing a crooked, proud grin. "I felt powerful, you know? So I decided that if dad would hire me out of college I'd be a lawyer assuming he'd let me work with people and not the back end legal for businesses. He would have to do the paperwork part."

"Wow; that's amazing."

Another silence reigned, the pair lost in thought. Michael recalled the joyful looks across those two wrinkled faces, the children bouncing up and scampering across the aisle to vault the half-wall into the arms of their now rightful guardians.

He couldn't help but switch the characters around in his memory, imagining Sydney in their place if she'd had to go to court against Rick. He'd pictured it before when they'd sat down in Jack's office: her on the stand recounting for a judge and possibly a jury why her abuser shouldn't have access to her children. He'd imagined the relief wiping worry from her face as the verdict was announced and the boys piling into her arms with Jack and Laura standing protectively over each shoulder. Rick, looking much as he had that single time they'd met, defeated in his cheap, wrinkled suit as he finally lost everything he'd deserved to lose.

Realizing after several quiet moments that he'd been lost in the fantasy he looked up with an embarrassed grin catching her staring, "sorry."

"Where'd you go just now?"

With a shrug, he finished the last of the wine in his glass, "just...an active imagination."

Sydney chuckled and finished her glass as well casting it to the coffee table next to Michael's. Leaning back against the couch she winced as a pin, or several pinched her scalp. With a sigh, she began extracting them from the confines of the updo until the wavy locks dropped around her shoulders tickling her skin.

To him, she'd never looked more beautiful. The sudden cascade of hair falling atop her chest and shoulders, the red bra showing through the white camisole as it had been since she put it on. It was the third one she'd changed into since he'd arrived, and she joked about running out before the night was over if the boys didn't stop using her for target practice. She shook him out of his reverie by sitting up.

"Want another glass?" Rising, she reached for both, stopping as his hand lightly touched her forearm catching her attention.

"C'mere," he asked, tugging her wrist with a feather-light hold, letting her know she could pull away if it was unwanted. Meeting his eyes, dark green as opposed to their usual bright reflective emerald, her breath quickened in response. She leaned down as he sat up, their mouths meeting in the middle. Her hair fell in a chocolate curtain around them as he tasted the sweet yet bitter bite of the wine on her lips, knowing his tasted much the same.

Scooting to the very edge of the couch he straightened his back as much as it would go as he set his hands to her waist, hers resting on his shoulders. His back began to tighten, though he tried to push past it in an effort to not let the moment end. She seemed to sense his discomfort and pulled back, her tongue sweeping across his lower lip as they broke apart.

The burning lust from months ago hit them like a truck and neither could keep from remembering the night at the hotel when they'd been close this way. Now, however, there wasn't the constant nag of Laura's warning in each head mixed with the overwhelming feeling of 'off-limits' pooling in both stomachs.

Michael was about to say that they probably shouldn't move too quickly and send her away to the kitchen for another glass of wine, but her situational deliberation ended a split second before his. Hands pushed him back against the cushion, a weight settling over his lap as she straddled his thighs, and her pouted lips found his once more.

His grip on her waist tightened instinctively and he pulled their bodies as close together as possible. The suddenness of the transition shocked them both back to the present as their mouths separated, lips brushing with each exhale. Both minds were spinning over whether or not this should be happening.

Sydney lost her train of thought as Michael's mouth moved to press light nips and licks to her throat, him hearing her soft moan float like music to his ears. Moving back up she met him eagerly, Vaughn drinking in her sigh as their tongues dueled. Her left hand was now flush against his chest, his pounding heartbeat thumping behind her fingers. The other was tangled in the hair at the back of his neck as her fingernails skimmed his scalp sending shivers down his spine.

"Momma?" The timid voice of Jake called from the top of the living room stairs and both adults froze. "Can I come sit wiff you? I frew up again."

Michael couldn't stop his smile as Sydney sighed and sat back against his thighs.

"Sure, honey," she paused taking a quick breath, "I'll be right there."

Michael's hands dropped from her waist to the top of her thighs as he flashed a satisfied smile up at her flushed face. Purple-hued hazel eyes sparkled in the light and he lingered longer than a moment on the swollen lips and faint pink mark just below her right ear.

"This is what it's like being a parent," she spoke in a husky whisper.

"It's growing on me." Putting his hands to the sides of her ribcage he pushed her to the left off his lap and onto the couch before sitting up. She fell willingly to her back as he leaned over between her legs and caught her lips in a soft kiss before pulling back and standing. "I'll take clean up duty, you grab Jake."

An hour later, the three of them were on the couch with the drone of a cartoon quietly playing on the television, Sydney's fingers absently running through Jake's hair as he slept across their laps. The blanket was tucked around his legs and he lay with his knees bent over Michael's lap connecting the lot of them together.

"Is this how you saw the evening going?" Her voice was quiet and pulled him away from his thoughts. He turned and saw that she'd already been studying him for who knows how long.

Michael shrugged. "Honestly?" She nodded. "I truly didn't know what to expect. I mean, Eric's wife warned me about vomit; that's it."

He paused, "it's...it's okay that I'm here, right? That I came over? Do you want me to head out?" She frowned and met his eyes seeing sudden nervous worry written across his face.

"It's amazing that you're here. I mean...covered in vomit usually ends most dates." Sydney's disarming smile set him back at ease.

Michael laughed at the concept. "This is definitely not what I had planned for our first date."

"I'm sorry about -" she started, but he cut her off.

"Don't. This has been the best first date I've ever had."

Sydney rolled her eyes, a blush tinting her cheeks as she looked down at the slumbering child. "No it hasn't," she whispered.

"No, really. The lasagna was amazing, the wine was superb, and the company -" he left off, kissing the top of his fingers as if he was a chef proud of creating a world-class meal.

Sydney shook her head, though no force on Earth could steal the smile from her lips. "I don't know about that."

"Well, if you're going to be so high maintenance and not accept my compliments," he exhaled a fake exasperated sigh, "I guess we can have a different theme for our second date."

"Michael, this cant be our first date. Tonight was a disaster."

The man laughed, "oh, it's absolutely our first date. Let the records show: Official First Date."

"It was the worst ever. My son puked on you. Twice."

"Our second date will be better. We'll get prettied up and go to a fancy restaurant." He paused, "and hopefully not get puked on."

"Me too?" Jake startled them both as his blue eyes, full of hope, looked into their souls one at a time.

Michael didn't hesitate, "sure, buddy."

"But I don't have any pretty clothes." It was probably because he was sick, but his voice was the saddest thing Michael had ever heard.

He responded by nodding, "well, then we'll have to go shopping."

"Really?" Sydney and Jake asked at the same time, Michael laughing and patting the tiny knees across his lap.

"It's a date. The three of us will get pretty clothes, go to a fancy restaurant, and have a great night."

"Let's go tomorrow!" Jake sat up quickly, his face going pale as he got dizzy.

"Easy, pal. We have to wait until you get better."

The boy slumped back against his mother, crestfallen. "Even if I'm good?"

Sydney intervened, Michael ready to give in at the child's sad Bambi eyes. "We can't eat fancy food on an upset stomach. Let's see how you feel tomorrow, okay?"

"But I feel better, momma. My tummy doesn't feel bad any more." He sat back up and, despite the fact that the room spun a little bit, he folded his legs criss-cross to sit upright between the adults. "I...I don't even want to frow up anymore. I fink I'm all better."

"Uh-huh," the young mother mumbled unconvinced, tilting forward to look at his pale face before setting the back of her hand against his forehead. The skin was hot and clammy, the fever back with a vengeance.

"Let's grab you some more Tylenol and Pedialyte. Maybe a piece of toast?" She rose and moved into the kitchen, stopping in the entryway when she heard the gag and the ensuing episode of throwing up.

"I got it," Michael's voice called out, Sydney redirecting from the medicine cabinet to the pile of extra towels on the kitchen counter. She stopped on her way back and spun around to grab one of Michael's spare shirts from the kitchen table, assuming he would need it.

Poor Jake sat in a pale heap while goop dripped from his chin into Vaughn's cupped hand, the man attempting to both hold the boy's head up and also catch the mess before it hit the couch. The result was the two of them wearing most of the sick while the blanket also became a casualty.

She swooped in and wiped at the child's face, Michael standing and wiping his hands on the soiled blanket before gathering it into a bundle. Miraculously, the couch was unscathed.

"Pass his shirt over, I'll toss this mess into the washer." His words were muffled making her look up with Jake's stained shirt held out toward him, stopping when she spotted tanned flesh.

Vaugh had discarded his own shirt into the middle and was now looking expectantly at Sydney, who had stopped just short from his outstretched hand.

"Syd?" He jogged for a moment, a blush rising on her cheeks as she realized she'd been gawking at his shirtlessness.

"Sorry," she blushed, Jake tugging at her arm to try and get her to take the washcloth off his face after she had stilled.

Vaugh laughed at the embarrassed red tint of her cheeks as he gathered everything up and moved into the laundry room. The dryer was done so he filled the empty laundry basket in the corner and swapped loads around. Seeing a folding table to his right he extended it and went about folding the dry clothes to save them some time and effort later.

Sydney watched from the door as the muscles of his back flexed while he failed at his attempts to fold child-sized clothes. She'd settled Jake back in front of the television with a nearby trashcan and a sippy cup of Pedialyte, wondering where her partner for the night had ended up. Finding him in the laundry room tackling a basket of fresh clothes, still shirtless, she stopped to admire the view.

"Until now, I never would have called a sock cute," he muttered as he held up two of Noah's tiny socks. She stifled a laugh when he tried bunching them together like he would a pair of his own socks, realizing that the little ball of cotton in his palm probably wasn't the final goal.

"How the hell do you fold tiny socks?"

"Do you want to know some of my secret mom ways?" He jumped a bit and turned to glower in her direction. She was casually leaning against the doorframe with a grin, a clean shirt of his hanging at her side in her hand. She'd pulled her hair into a ponytail, a few strands sneaking out to lie against her chest.

"I dunno; do you wanna stare a little longer before jumping in?" He chuckled turning back to the laundry.

Sydney rolled her eyes and stepped into the room, slinging the shirt over his shoulder. "The secret is to not do anything with tiny socks. Buy them in a bundle of a million and toss them in a drawer. The child will somehow still lose the majority. I'll bet there aren't even pairs in here; pairs no longer exist."

"How's Jake?" Michael asked with a chuckle.

"Passing out on the couch after he got me one last time," she grumbled looking down at the stain on her top. "I don't even know where it comes from anymore."

He grinned and reached into the basket to pull out a freshly washed camisole from the pile in the basket. Holding it on the tip of his finger, he offered it to her. "You came to the right place."

She smiled and took it from him, Michael going back to finding tiny socks. He didn't make an attempt to put the clean shirt on, however. Sydney sent him a sideways squint and a crooked smile deciding to call his bluff. "Thanks."

Stepping back she lifted the hem and pulled the soiled garment over her head, tossing it into the washer with the rest. Grabbing the detergent she set the load before standing back up at the sound of his low, strained voice.

"You know...you're making it very difficult to do the whole 'take things slow' thing."

She turned and leaned against the washer, her brown eyes defiant as the hazel center faded to purple. "I would hate to be the one making things difficult mister no shirt for the last ten minutes."

They stood apart, two sets of eyes challenging the other.

"We have to take things slow, right?" Michael's question was punctuated by taking a small step forward.

"I never said we did." Sydney stayed against the washer, her elbows moving up and propping to her left and right on top of the machine. This pose effectively stuck her chest out, flesh straining against the red bra she'd tossed on earlier.

He took another step, confusion in his eyes despite the crooked grin across his lips. "Isn't it what we're supposed to do?"

"Michael, if you want to take it slow, I promise I won't push you."

He cocked an eyebrow in interest and took another step. "You don't want to take it slow?"

"Truth?"

Vaughn nodded and took another step, their bodies almost touching though neither took the next step to lay hands on the other.

"I've spent the last few years of my life treading water to stay afloat." She thought for a moment, her eyes flicking down to his chest a moment before going back to his curious gaze. "And I've spent the last few months on a roller coaster with things going way too fast and way out of my control."

Sydney met his eyes and Michael was impressed by the fiery determination in her sure stare.

"This time, I know what I want. Why would I slow down?"

He nodded and pulled her into the loose loop of his arms, his hands touching her warm, soft skin for the first time. She went willingly and set one hand to his shoulder as the other skimmed down his stomach feeling the muscles twitch.

"I'll take things slow if that's what you need, but I sort of want to dive in headfirst." She paused, losing some of her bravado and looking down to the center of his chest, "m-maybe that's a bad thing, I don't know."

Michael's hand moved and he tilted her chin to reconnect their eyes, "it's absolutely not a bad thing. Please don't ever forget to remind me that you don't need to be coddled. I was honestly waiting for you to make all the moves not knowing where you were with all this relationship stuff." He cupped her cheek absently brushing her cheekbone with his thumb.

"What I want right now I wouldn't call coddling."

Michael grinned and leaned in to brush his lips against hers with a soft kiss. At that moment, the garage door on the other side of the wall activated making them jump and stare out into the hallway like two caught teenagers: mom and dad were home.

"Oh yeah. That's why we have to take things slow." Stepping out of his arms she reached for the abandoned camisole on the dryer and slipped it on, Michael doing the same with the discarded shirt now lying on the floor at their feet.

They resumed folding clothes trying to squash the remaining desire as it boiled low in their stomachs. After a few quiet moments and before her parents hit the internal door to the garage Sydney leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Thank you for coming over tonight. It really has meant the world to me."

It was Michael's turn to blush, which he followed with a smile, "any time, Syd."

…..

"I feel like I'm being chaperoned on a date by both of your parents." Michael's voice was quiet in the dark of the bedroom as he lay perfectly still on his back with his arms at his sides above the blanket to avoid coming into contact with the woman lying next to him.

Laura and Jack had utterly refused to let him drive home. 'Michael - it's after midnight' or 'it's far too late and you're too tired - you have to stay here tonight.'

Stay where? That was the question on everyone's tongue at that moment. Sydney had glared at her mother over the nearly empty second glass of wine, the group sitting at the dining table and talking about the boys being sick and the fundraiser until well after midnight. Jack had poured two glasses of brandy for himself and Michael as Sydney shared the rest of the red wine with her mother as they chatted.

The parents hadn't left room for discussion. Laura said goodnight pulling Jack behind her while offering to check on the boys so the two of them could get some rest. 'It's been a long night. You two just go get some rest, we'll handle it from here.'

The bed shifted as Sydney rolled to her side and propped her cheek on the palm of her hand. "Why?"

"They're literally in the next room over."

"So?"

"It's...it feels weird."

Her laugh was like a whisper, "I'm twenty-eight years old, not fifteen. What happened to mister take it slow?"

He glared with a grin, "don't go there, miss purple eyes." He rolled to face her at the confused grin she sent in his direction. "You do know that when you're turned on the center of your eyes turn a hazel purple, right? It's very distracting especially since it's been there pretty much the entire night. Well, once I figured it out."

Her eyes shifted away from his as a memory popped into her head: "I always know when you're in the mood, Syd." It was something Rick had said to her a few times before, but every time she asked about it he would just shrug and kiss her, claiming it was his secret superpower.

"Syd? I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," Michael backpedaled quickly seeing her go to another place momentarily.

She snapped out of it and sent an apologetic head shake, "no, it's - it's just...I didn't know that."

Michael's eyes scanned hers in an effort to see if she was compartmentalizing, but she disarmed him with a dimpled smile. "So...I'm basically a sex beacon?"

He laughed, deciding that if she was going to take everything in stride he would as well. He sensed that she wasn't telling him everything. He knew that what he'd said had triggered some kind of memory, but Michael did honestly appreciate it when she didn't tell him directly how or if he reminded her of Rick.

He reached between them and pulled her closer, his hand staying against her lower back with fingers gently rubbing the soft exposed skin. She closed the gap sliding closer until their bodies were a mere breath apart, her arm moving above his to rest her hand on his bicep before she tucked her head into his shoulder with a sigh.

Michael felt her body begin to relax and likely could have stayed still for less than a minute and she would have been asleep, though her neck and shoulders were too inviting and he found himself peppering light kisses against them both.

"If you keep doing that, we're going to wake up my parents." He couldn't hold back the chuckle yet continued with his gentle exploration.

Sydney began to lose herself in the warm oblivion created by his hands and mouth, moving her arm between them and placing her palm flat against his chest to feel the soft cotton of his undershirt, wishing it was warm smooth skin. He moved his mouth up kissing her cheek, temple, and the tip of her nose before pulling back and settling onto the pillow to face her. She wore a soft, warm smile on her lips and her eyes were still closed, though they cracked open to meet his gentle gaze.

Even in the low light of the room, he could see the purple iris'. "Maybe I shouldn't have agreed to have a five-year-old on our second date," he grumbled in a low whisper. "I should have just planned to take you to my house where we could spend the whole weekend naked."

Sydney couldn't stop the groan from bubbling up in her chest and she shifted back to her side of the bed on her back, eyes staring up at the ceiling.

"You okay?"

After a moment of quiet, she shook her head and sat up, leaving the bed. "I can't do this."

Confusion set in, Michael again thinking he'd overstepped. "I'm...what?"

She padded over to the bathroom and disappeared through the door, a sudden glare of light creating her silhouette. The blankets pooled around his waist as he sat up with panic in his eyes, Sydney turning to face him with a fier in her eyes.

"Do you still wanna take it slow?" Her voice was a soft whisper like she was nearly out of breath.

"Hell no. But-" she disappeared back into the bathroom without letting him finish. "Syd. Sydney." His voice was a harsh and urgent whisper, and he tossed the blankets off his lap, swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and moved to the main door to make sure it was closed. He was tempted to lock it, though something stopped him. The shower kicked on a moment later and he slowly walked toward the bathroom as both his breath and pulse quickened. "Are you serious right now?"

Steam was emerging from behind the ridiculous shower curtain covered in rubber duckies, Sydney leaning over the tub to test the temperature giving Vaughn ample opportunity to stare at her backside once he was through the door. She straightened and turned, her face determined though her fidgeting hands belied her confidence.

"I just...if you want to back out, that's okay. But...I couldn't just lay there anymore. Maybe it is too soon, and...maybe it is rushing things, but...all I want is you right now and I don't know what to do with that other than this." Words rushed from her lips as she bared her honesty, hands gesturing to the loud spraying water nearly drowning out their quiet conversation.

Michael kicked the door closed behind him and stepped forward to sweep her flush against his body with hands at her hips before crashing his mouth over hers.

…..