Title: Lullaby
Summary: How do you go home at night, after a mission, a day of deception and betrayal, the adrenaline coursing through your veins, and simply sleep?
Disclaimer: Don't own Alias or anything related to the show
Rating: PG-13
A/N: Old Alias fic I found while cleaning my computer up a bit. Sarkney set during Season Two.
"I envy you sometimes agent Bristow." The SD-6 agent jumped as she heard Sark's smooth silky voice somewhere in the darkness. She reached in to her purse, her hand tightening around her gun. Even if he had joined SD-6 Sloane couldn't blame her for presuming him a mugger and accidentally shooting him a few times at close range.
"I'm too tired for your games Sark." She snapped in to the darkness. He chuckled and stepped out of the shadows and in to the dim glow cast by the light above her car. The parking lot was almost empty of cars and completely void of any other beings except for the two of them.
"How do you do it?" He asked, his face calm as usual, and his eyes alight with mischief. She gave him a look that was a cross between 'do what?' And 'drop dead'. "How do you go home at night, after a mission, a day of deception and betrayal, the adrenaline coursing through your veins, and simply sleep?"
"It's what normal people do. I doubt you could grasp the concept." She snapped. She did not need a lecture on her social life from the likes of Sark.
"I'm willing to bet that you feel it right now? The desire for action." His eyes raked over her suited body, a predatory grin on his face. "The lust for adrenaline."
"Then you'd be wrong."
He wasn't pleased by her reply. Sydney suddenly found herself shoved against her car with one of Sark's perfectly moisturised hands around her neck and his other clamped over her own, stopping her from drawing her gun. "Tell me again." He hissed in her ear, his warm breath tickling her skin.
"Fuck you." She growled, angry that he was touching her. Touching her with hands that had probably spilt the blood of hundreds.
"Come now Miss Bristow, that's not very ladylike language." His grip on her throat loosened. "After all I simply wish for an honest answer to an honest question.
"Honest." She scoffed. "Like you even know the meaning of the word. He feigned mock indignation.
"I can be very honest Sydney…in the right circumstances. I honestly find it very difficult to wind down after a good day's work…I'm merely inquiring as to whether you have the same problem."
She decided honesty would be her quickest escape, away from Sark and SD-6 for another few hours at least. "Yes." She reluctantly admitted. "Happy now?"
"Quite." His arrogant smirk returned as he released her. "Goodnight agent Bristow…oh and should you require some assistance in obtaining an adrenaline rush…I'm merely a phone call away." As quickly as he appeared he vanished. Sydney scowled. She hated his arrogance.
Three hours later, in the early hours of the morning, sitting curled up with a glass of wine and a long book she'd managed to finish, she hated Sloane more than she did Sark.
Why had he forced her to take the contact number Sark had offered her?
When Sark's cell phone began to ring a few moments later a predatory grin spread over his young features. "Need a lullaby Agent Bristow?"
Fin.