Disclaimer: I don't own the characters; I'm just borrowing them for a
while. This takes place after Season 1. This is going to be a centered
around Sark and Sydney with additional new characters along with the
original characters. Of course there will be a little Sydney and Vaughn.
Will and Sydney will become really close friends.
Chapter One: Goodnight Ms. Bristow
Sydney is strapped into a chair with the only light in the room directly over her head. Slumped over with her eyes closed, she is unable to hide her exhaustion and discomfort from beneath the glaring light. Sensing an intruder she quickly straightens up, eyes alert. Unable to see anything, Sydney followed the sound of the intruder's footsteps as it circled around her.
"I know it's you Sark." said Sydney knowing without a doubt that it was he, even without actually seeing him.
"Ahhh, is it time for me to change my aftershave?" Sark's voice, tinged with a slight British accent, replied directly in front of her.
"No, I can tell it's you by the way you make my flesh crawl." Of the few times she'd been in his company, Sark always provoked a frisson of and indescribable feeling within Sydney, one similar to the feeling that alerted her to danger. A feeling that she'd never admit to Sark who she knew would revel in the fact that she found him dangerous and would use it to his advantage somehow.
Sark sighed and resumed his pacing around her. "I came to see if there was anything that you needed."
"Is this supposed to be an interrogation? Because if it is, don't quit your day job. Whatever that is, you must be better at it then this! But then again, I'm sure that your presence is torture enough for anyone." Sydney lashed out. She didn't like feeling helpless, and she resented Sark's silent but clear message that he was in control of the situation wherein she was not.
"Torture is not in my repertoire Mrs. Bristow. If you can give me your word that you won't try to escape, I'll release you from that chair." Sark said pausing his pacing around her.
"How magnanimous of you. I won't try to escape." She acquiesced quickly, too quickly.
Sark, stepping out of the shadows, crouched to her left side and unbuckled the leather strap from her wrist. Noticing the ugly bruise and chaffing on it, he gently brushed it with his fingertips.
Surprised by the caress, Sydney took a sharp intake of breath and quickly withdrew her hand.
"Does it hurt?" Sark asked tilting his head slightly up and to the side to look into her face.
She looked down into his deceptively innocent face not buying Sark's concerned look for a minute. He probably got some sick pleasure in enjoying her pain, she thought. She answered with a glare, blaming him for her injuries. After all, she wouldn't have the bruises if she hadn't been strapped into a chair. She wondered how he would like it if their roles were reversed and it was him in the chair instead of her. Her lips curved slightly at the thought.
"I'll get you some ointment for it." He said standing up as he flashed her one of his secretive smirks. One that made Sydney feel like he knew exactly what she'd been thinking.
Sark left the room giving Sydney time to free the rest of her bonds herself. Once she was finished and she made certain that she was alone in the room, she quickly searched the perimeter of the room for an exit other then the obvious one. After about a minute she spotted an air vent directly over the chair that she'd been strapped into for the last 24 hours. She hadn't noticed it because the light was hanging right next to it, hiding its view from below.
Sydney stepped up onto the chair and jumped, but she couldn't reach the bars covering the vent. She balanced herself on the arms of the chair and readied herself to jump. Taking a deep breath she jumped up and grabbed a hold of the bars intending to pull them out using gravity and her weight.
The vent cover came out too easily causing Sydney to crash onto the ground barely missing the chair and landing awkwardly on her left ankle. She was able to prevent the vent cover from hitting the ground by cushioning it with her body. The last thing she wanted was to alert someone to her escape. She quietly set the cover down and got to her feet
She ignored the pain shot that through her ankle as she put her weight on it. Sydney knew that she wouldn't be able to pull herself up into the vent by jumping from the chair's arms, especially with an injured ankle.
She placed the vent cover over the chair and used the straps on the arms to keep it from sliding to the ground creating a small ramp. She backed up to the end of the room and took a running start and used her makeshift ramp to propel herself into the vent. She pulled herself up and through the vent.
Sydney ignored the nagging feeling that the escape had been to easy. Instead she quickly scrambled through the air vent until she came to a dead end. She wasn't able to quite finish her frustrated groan when the vent beneath her fell away causing her to fall into the room below.
The impact caused her to lose her bearings. She allowed herself a minute to recover then rolled to her side only to notice two spotlessly polished black shoes in front of her. Her eyes made trail up the leg, past the hips, past the stomach and chest, and into the face of Sark who held out his hand to assist her.
Instead of taking the proffered hand she spun on her side and kicked out her right leg and knocked his feet out from under him. She rolled backward into a crouch and then stood up just as Sark mirrored her movement and got to his feet. Sydney furiously threw out her best punches and kicks as all her anger, fear, and frustration of the last week arose to the surface. But it wasn't enough to overcome her exhaustion and Sark's deflecting skills.
She paused panting after 5 minutes of ineffectual attacks and had to bend over to catch her breath. She now wished that she'd accepted the previous food offerings so that she wouldn't be so weak. She waited until Sark got a little closer before she attempted one last time to punch him in the face. Like all the others, it never found its target. Sark grabbed her wrist as it sailed past his head and twisted her arm behind her back. He used her momentum to slam her against the wall, and then trapped her against it with his body, not allowing her to escape.
"You never disappoint me, Ms. Bristow." He growled into her ear, alluding that he had expected her to escape. They were so close that Sydney could feel his heart beating steadily against her back. His breathing, amplified due to their close proximity, was loud and warm against the back of her neck and ear. An electric charge starting from her ear made its way down her body. Not realizing that she had stopped breathing Sydney felt herself getting dizzy. She tried to take in a deep breath but it was too late.
Feeling her muscles slacken, Sark stepped back and released her only to grab her again before she hit the ground, unconscious.
Instead of trying to revive her, Sark shook his head and smiled ruefully. He had learned something new about her in the last 10 minutes. Sydney was a dangerous adversary because when she was trapped, she could assess the situation and plan an escape. Then if it failed, she would go down fighting. He picked her up, carried her to a bed in the corner of the room, and laid her on it.
Sark had noticed that she had favored her left leg a little when she'd been fighting. Sure enough, when he checked her ankle, it was swollen. He went into the bathroom several feet away and pulled out a first aid kit. He returned to the bed and set the kit next to Sydney. He then pulled out an ice pack from the first aid kit. He then broke the inner seal of the pack and shook it to hurry up the cooling process. Propping Sydney's leg up with a few pillows and he placed the ice pack strategically on her ankle to get maximum use out of it.
Sark then delved back inside the first aid kit and pulled out a tube filled with a gel like substance and some gauze. He gently rubbed the gel on one wrist and then covered it with gauze. He repeated the action for the other wrist. He put all the medical supplies back into the kit and propping himself on the bed with one hand; he used the other to shove the kit under the bed. As he pushed himself from the bed he noticed how close it was to her hair. He brushed the hair back from her face without waking her. Her still unconscious form shivered in response.
Grabbing the blanket from the foot of the bed, he covered her with it. Then he sat down in a chair next to the bed with thoughtful look on his face and watched her sleep.
Chapter One: Goodnight Ms. Bristow
Sydney is strapped into a chair with the only light in the room directly over her head. Slumped over with her eyes closed, she is unable to hide her exhaustion and discomfort from beneath the glaring light. Sensing an intruder she quickly straightens up, eyes alert. Unable to see anything, Sydney followed the sound of the intruder's footsteps as it circled around her.
"I know it's you Sark." said Sydney knowing without a doubt that it was he, even without actually seeing him.
"Ahhh, is it time for me to change my aftershave?" Sark's voice, tinged with a slight British accent, replied directly in front of her.
"No, I can tell it's you by the way you make my flesh crawl." Of the few times she'd been in his company, Sark always provoked a frisson of and indescribable feeling within Sydney, one similar to the feeling that alerted her to danger. A feeling that she'd never admit to Sark who she knew would revel in the fact that she found him dangerous and would use it to his advantage somehow.
Sark sighed and resumed his pacing around her. "I came to see if there was anything that you needed."
"Is this supposed to be an interrogation? Because if it is, don't quit your day job. Whatever that is, you must be better at it then this! But then again, I'm sure that your presence is torture enough for anyone." Sydney lashed out. She didn't like feeling helpless, and she resented Sark's silent but clear message that he was in control of the situation wherein she was not.
"Torture is not in my repertoire Mrs. Bristow. If you can give me your word that you won't try to escape, I'll release you from that chair." Sark said pausing his pacing around her.
"How magnanimous of you. I won't try to escape." She acquiesced quickly, too quickly.
Sark, stepping out of the shadows, crouched to her left side and unbuckled the leather strap from her wrist. Noticing the ugly bruise and chaffing on it, he gently brushed it with his fingertips.
Surprised by the caress, Sydney took a sharp intake of breath and quickly withdrew her hand.
"Does it hurt?" Sark asked tilting his head slightly up and to the side to look into her face.
She looked down into his deceptively innocent face not buying Sark's concerned look for a minute. He probably got some sick pleasure in enjoying her pain, she thought. She answered with a glare, blaming him for her injuries. After all, she wouldn't have the bruises if she hadn't been strapped into a chair. She wondered how he would like it if their roles were reversed and it was him in the chair instead of her. Her lips curved slightly at the thought.
"I'll get you some ointment for it." He said standing up as he flashed her one of his secretive smirks. One that made Sydney feel like he knew exactly what she'd been thinking.
Sark left the room giving Sydney time to free the rest of her bonds herself. Once she was finished and she made certain that she was alone in the room, she quickly searched the perimeter of the room for an exit other then the obvious one. After about a minute she spotted an air vent directly over the chair that she'd been strapped into for the last 24 hours. She hadn't noticed it because the light was hanging right next to it, hiding its view from below.
Sydney stepped up onto the chair and jumped, but she couldn't reach the bars covering the vent. She balanced herself on the arms of the chair and readied herself to jump. Taking a deep breath she jumped up and grabbed a hold of the bars intending to pull them out using gravity and her weight.
The vent cover came out too easily causing Sydney to crash onto the ground barely missing the chair and landing awkwardly on her left ankle. She was able to prevent the vent cover from hitting the ground by cushioning it with her body. The last thing she wanted was to alert someone to her escape. She quietly set the cover down and got to her feet
She ignored the pain shot that through her ankle as she put her weight on it. Sydney knew that she wouldn't be able to pull herself up into the vent by jumping from the chair's arms, especially with an injured ankle.
She placed the vent cover over the chair and used the straps on the arms to keep it from sliding to the ground creating a small ramp. She backed up to the end of the room and took a running start and used her makeshift ramp to propel herself into the vent. She pulled herself up and through the vent.
Sydney ignored the nagging feeling that the escape had been to easy. Instead she quickly scrambled through the air vent until she came to a dead end. She wasn't able to quite finish her frustrated groan when the vent beneath her fell away causing her to fall into the room below.
The impact caused her to lose her bearings. She allowed herself a minute to recover then rolled to her side only to notice two spotlessly polished black shoes in front of her. Her eyes made trail up the leg, past the hips, past the stomach and chest, and into the face of Sark who held out his hand to assist her.
Instead of taking the proffered hand she spun on her side and kicked out her right leg and knocked his feet out from under him. She rolled backward into a crouch and then stood up just as Sark mirrored her movement and got to his feet. Sydney furiously threw out her best punches and kicks as all her anger, fear, and frustration of the last week arose to the surface. But it wasn't enough to overcome her exhaustion and Sark's deflecting skills.
She paused panting after 5 minutes of ineffectual attacks and had to bend over to catch her breath. She now wished that she'd accepted the previous food offerings so that she wouldn't be so weak. She waited until Sark got a little closer before she attempted one last time to punch him in the face. Like all the others, it never found its target. Sark grabbed her wrist as it sailed past his head and twisted her arm behind her back. He used her momentum to slam her against the wall, and then trapped her against it with his body, not allowing her to escape.
"You never disappoint me, Ms. Bristow." He growled into her ear, alluding that he had expected her to escape. They were so close that Sydney could feel his heart beating steadily against her back. His breathing, amplified due to their close proximity, was loud and warm against the back of her neck and ear. An electric charge starting from her ear made its way down her body. Not realizing that she had stopped breathing Sydney felt herself getting dizzy. She tried to take in a deep breath but it was too late.
Feeling her muscles slacken, Sark stepped back and released her only to grab her again before she hit the ground, unconscious.
Instead of trying to revive her, Sark shook his head and smiled ruefully. He had learned something new about her in the last 10 minutes. Sydney was a dangerous adversary because when she was trapped, she could assess the situation and plan an escape. Then if it failed, she would go down fighting. He picked her up, carried her to a bed in the corner of the room, and laid her on it.
Sark had noticed that she had favored her left leg a little when she'd been fighting. Sure enough, when he checked her ankle, it was swollen. He went into the bathroom several feet away and pulled out a first aid kit. He returned to the bed and set the kit next to Sydney. He then pulled out an ice pack from the first aid kit. He then broke the inner seal of the pack and shook it to hurry up the cooling process. Propping Sydney's leg up with a few pillows and he placed the ice pack strategically on her ankle to get maximum use out of it.
Sark then delved back inside the first aid kit and pulled out a tube filled with a gel like substance and some gauze. He gently rubbed the gel on one wrist and then covered it with gauze. He repeated the action for the other wrist. He put all the medical supplies back into the kit and propping himself on the bed with one hand; he used the other to shove the kit under the bed. As he pushed himself from the bed he noticed how close it was to her hair. He brushed the hair back from her face without waking her. Her still unconscious form shivered in response.
Grabbing the blanket from the foot of the bed, he covered her with it. Then he sat down in a chair next to the bed with thoughtful look on his face and watched her sleep.