A Possibility
by Tutankhamun
Sydney smiled and tucked a rebellious strand of hair behind her ear as Weiss cracked what should have been a lame joke. However, when he delivered the punchline with his perfect sense of timing and voice inflection, it seemed absolutely hilarious and made everybody around him dissolve into helpless laughter. Yet, despite his wonderful comedic skills, Syd's smile quickly faded away, and she knew in her heart that her facade wasn't fooling anybody, especially Dixon, who had taken to staring at her for long periods of time in silence as if to assess that she was all right and wasn't going to break down in public. It was really irritating, truth be told.
She straightened in her chair to make herself more comfortable and looked at the people clustered around their table, which was situated in the prime location directly in front of a raised platform where singers and musicians performed live every night in the upscale Italian restaurant. She herself had the best seat in the house facing the platform. Looking to her right, Syd couldn't repress a tiny grin when she saw Marshall and his girlfriend sitting side by side. Since she couldn't see their hands, she strongly suspected that they were holding hands beneath the table. It wasn't so long ago that her and Vaughn had been doing the exact same thing... Aware of where her thoughts were leading her, Syd mercilessly forced herself to repress those memories, least she start sobbing in the middle of their salad course, which would be extremely unclassy, to say the least.
Next to Marshall was Dixon, the new head of her division in the CIA, who was talking politely with Lauren Reid, otherwise known as the new Mrs. Vaughn. Her breath caught in her throat as she gazed at the undeniably beautiful woman sitting directly across from her. Sooner or later the impulses of jealously would fade, Syd knew, but in the meantime it was hard for her to keep her cool when inside she felt like a lost, heartbroken little girl.
Adverting her eyes, Sydney reached for her glass of wine and took a sip as she looked at Vaughn; the man she loved; the man who had gotten married to freakin' Barbie in less than two years after she was thought to be dead. Syd took another larger sip of wine and reminded herself that if wouldn't be good to crush a delicate wine glass with her bare hands in public no matter how pissed off she was. She was trying to accept the fact that he was married now, but it wasn't helping when he smiled and laughed the same way he used to when they were together. It brought back memories that she was trying so hard to bury, causing her heart to feel like it was stabbing her with every beat.
Putting down her wine glass, looked at the Weiss, the final member of their party, who was seated at her left. Weiss was already in the middle of another of his jokes, and Syd smiled, thankful that at least something had remained the same, but then an unbidden inner voice whispered, 'Unlike everything else in my life.'
Things had changed so much in the two years she had been away, and now everybody was treating her so differently. She hated Dixon's assessing stares and his offers of counseling. She hated how Vaughn was in love with another woman. She hated how she couldn't see Will because he was in Witness Protection. She hated how her best friend was dead, killed due to Sydney's involvement in the CIA. She hated how Marshall kept staring at her, as if to make sure she was real and wasn't going to disappear again.
'No, not disappear,' Syd thought to herself, an odd mixture of bitterness and surrealism. 'To die again. To have my ashes spread at sea again. That's what they worry about.'
A busboy dressed in a pressed white shirt and black apron came to take their salad plates away, and Syd smiled politely at him when he picked up her plate. He looked like he was a high school student trying to earn money for college, and Syd remembered that once upon a time she had been like that. The boy blushed bright red when she thanked him, and she heard Weiss snicker beside her.
As soon as the boy left, Sydney turned to confront Weiss, who was grinning broadly. "Weiss, you didn't have to do that, you know. You just embarrassed him even more!"
Weiss let out a chuckle or two. "Yeah, but it was just too funny, Syd. Poor guy, having girls like you in the world, leading them on and dropping them like a hot potato when you get tired of them! I know how it is," Weiss winked.
"I just smiled and said thank you! How is that leading him on?" Syd asked, a ghost of smile hovering around her lips, as she enjoyed the ridiculousness of Weiss' claim.
Weiss sighed and rolled his eyes, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Come on Syd, having such a stunning woman smile at him was probably the highlight of his day! Not to mention the fact that you look fantastic in that dress. You heartbreaker, you," he chided teasingly, as he shook his head in mock disappointment.
Syd grinned and slapped Weiss lightly on the arm. "Men," she muttered under her breath, the grin not leaving her face. She was glad he had mentioned her dress because she had worn it especially for this occasion. It was a bright red and much more daring than she usually wore. In fact, it was an outfit from one of her missions; the one she wore when she had to get leverage for her father to be released from solitary confinement. She had used a flare gun and the little red number she was wearing now to stop an armored car and steal a chip with diagnostics for an undetectable stealth jet for the CIA. It hadn't taken much for her to convince Marshall to let her borrow the dress for dinner. She just had to put in a good word for him with his girlfriend so that she might consider marrying him, which was what he desperately wanted so their child would grow up in a normal family. She had wanted to wear this dress so badly to show Vaughn that she wasn't going to pine after him forever. Whether she liked it or not, she was single now and back on the market. She might as well act the part, thus the little red dress.
She settled back comfortably in her chair and smiled as she listened to the ebb and flow of the gentle chat around her. The previous conversation with Weiss made her think of her past loves: Danny and Vaughn. Danny was dead, and Vaughn was just as far from her, even though she could have reached out and touched his arm if she wanted. Was this how her life would always be? Would she always lose the ones she loved? And now who would fill the place in her heart that Vaughn had so speedily vacated?
Reclining back in her chair, Syd's eyes glazed over as she let her thoughts and memories drift. Surprisingly, the first thing she thought of was Sark, and how surprised and relieved he was to see her alive again after in the two years which she had been dead to the rest of the world.
The fact that his face popped up so readily confused Sydney, and she closed her eyes as his piercing blue eyes dominated her thoughts–just imagining those eyes sent unexpected thrills running down her spine! When he had looked directly at her through the glass in his cell, she could see his naked emotions running through his eyes. The fact that he didn't attempt to hide his feelings from her made her feel privileged. But that didn't answer the million dollar question: Why was she thinking about him?
She didn't know what happened to him after the fiasco in Mexico City, and that had been a little over a month ago. She remembered how he had looked down at her as she was undoing the handcuffs around his ankles and said quite calmly, "My life is in danger, isn't it?"
It hadn't been a question. It was a statement of what he knew to be true and what Sydney knew to be true. It was a statement of vulnerability. Syd hadn't been able to say anything back to that.
Her memories progressed to a short time later when Lindsey had double-crossed them and used her and her prisoner exchange team as bait for the men who were holding a CIA agent hostage, and Sark had been caught in the middle the battle with no protection and no allies. What had he been feeling then? Did he blame her for what had happened? Did he know that she had been used as well as him? 'What does he think of me now?' Syd thought in a panic she couldn't explain.
Startling her out of her frantic and unproductive thoughts, Dixon stood with his wineglass in hand and announced, "I propose a toast. To Sydney, who has come back to us in time to continue her unparalleled run of successful missions. To Sydney!"
Everybody raised their wineglasses and with warm and loving smiles echoed, "To Sydney!"
She smiled back at them, her thoughts of Sark forgotten for the moment, and ducked her head to hide the tears that clouded her vision. It was true: She was back, and she was still one of the best agents the CIA had ever had. Just yesterday she had returned from London after another successful mission, and it had been Weiss who had insisted on throwing a celebration dinner for her. She knew it wasn't just for completing her last mission, but also for returning after two years of being MIA, so she had said to go ahead with his celebration plans. She remembered how Weiss, who was now her neighbor, had knocked on the door of her new house and was practically skipping in excitement because he had managed to get reservations at one of the top restaurants in town. As he explained it, it was "a restaurant where you made reservations months in advance, and even then you aren't guaranteed a seat when your reservation comes around." He confessed that he had gotten lucky when another party had canceled their reservations and Weiss had been the quickest to pick up the empty spot.
Fortunately for Syd, the lights suddenly dimmed and hid her emotional state, and the diners around her murmured in excitement.
"What's going on?" asked Marshall, as he peered into the darkness around him.
Vaughn answered him, "I think the musical act that is about to begin."
"Who is performing tonight?" Lauren asked in her soft, accented voice as she scooted closer to Vaughn so she could see the platform behind her. Beside her, Dixon was also moving closer to Marshall to get a better view of the platform.
Weiss shrugged. "I don't know. Usually who ever is performing is advertised, but tonight all anybody says is that it's a 'surprise performer.' Nobody knows anything else about it."
Mrs. Vaughn raised her eyebrows in interest as everybody turned and peered expectantly into the gloom, and Syd found herself slowly falling back into her musings about Sark with no conversation to keep her interest.
She had just started considering the effect Sark's new haircut (which she thought was God-awful or worse) had on his overall charm, when a darker shadow walked into the center of the platform, where the dim outline of a microphone and stand could be seen. She abandoned her thoughts of Sark as she focused on the platform.
After a minute of rustling and hushed whispers, the music started, and Syd stilled. The tune was a simple affair; very light and almost Heavenly with its sweetness, and she felt herself relax with the music. Then he began to sing in a clear, soft voice that complimented the music extraordinarily well.
If you're not the one then why does my soul feel glad today?
The platform lights still hadn't been turned on, so Syd couldn't see what he looked like, but from that one, heart-felt line she could tell he had a very good, though not professionally developed, voice. In fact, the voice sounded somewhat familiar, and then it dawned on her that the singer reminded her of Sark's voice.
"Great, now I'm hallucinating his voice. This is just great," Syd muttered under her breath. Marshall's girlfriend looked over at Syd quizzically, and, blushing, Syd gave a small smile and signaled that it was nothing.
If you're not the one then why does my hand fit yours this way?
Glancing over at Vaughn and Lauren, she saw that Lauren had leaned her head on Vaughn's shoulder, and he in turn had wrapped his arms around her. Syd looked away quickly in anger, feeling like an intruder on their happiness.
If you are not mine then why does your heart return my call?
Syd sighed when she heard that line. 'The only problem in my life right now, besides not knowing what happened to me the past two years,' she thought to herself. 'Is that he isn't mine anymore. He belongs to her.'
If you are not mine would I have the strength to stand at all?
At the end of the line, two lights turned on behind the singer, illuminating the platform and the tables around it, but leaving his face in shadow. All that was visible was a silhouette of his body. 'And what a nice body at that,' Syd thought interestedly, surveying the lean, trim form. 'Now there is one fit man. I wonder how he keeps in shape...'
The mystery performer continued to sing, the tempo of the tune increasing slightly.
I never know what the future brings
But I know you are here
with me now
We'll make it through
And I hope you are the one
I share my life with
Sydney's heart ached with the beautiful sentiment expressed in the simple lines, and she felt like she was connected with the lyrics. Moreover, it had the most haunting and ethereal melody she had ever heard; more amazing than Rembaldi's music box that had encoded the equation for zero point energy. She felt that if she moved, she might shatter the magical effect of the music and never be able to regain that feeling of absolute peace and happiness again. To preserve the moment, Sydney closed her eyes for an instant and let the aria wash over her like waves. She opened her eyes when she heard the singer raise the volume of his voice on the last line.
There was a slight pause before the frontal lights came on and illuminated his face as he simultaneously began the chorus, and Syd's mind froze in a state of disbelief, shock, and indescribable joy.
I don't want to run away but I can't take it, I don't understand
"Sark..." she breathed, the name flowing off her tongue.
All around the table there was a collective intake of breath as everybody's eyes widened and jaws dropped. Marshall made a few choking noises, and his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Dixon looked shocked, and stared in incomprehension at Sark as if he had grown another head.
If I'm not made for you then why does my heart tell me that I am?
Sark ignored them all, even though it was doubtful that he could have missed the reaction his appearance had on the group. He was dressed in dark slacks and a white collared shirt, with the sleeves rolled up and the first couple buttons undone, giving tantalizing hints at his muscular chest. His eyes were closed and his face was composed and serene as his hands cupped the microphone as he continued singing his enchanting song, his lips just brushing the wire mesh.
"What the hell is he doing?!" Vaughn exclaimed, half-rising out of his seat before Lauren pulled him back down.
Just then, Sark's eyes snapped open and bored directly into Sydney's and he sang to her and her alone.
Is there any way that I can stay in your arms?
Syd felt her heart swell within her chest as a giddy feeling washed over her body, leaving it tingly and warm.
Vaughn saw the intensity between his ex-girlfriend and the man who had shot him, and he opened his mouth to say something, but Weiss–without taking his eyes off of Sark–slapped one of his hands over Vaughn's mouth to halt whatever Vaughn was about to say. Weiss was frowning slightly, as if he wasn't too pleased with the current situation, but he didn't attempt to stop Sark.
Without breaking eye contact with Syd, Sark started the next verse as he removed the microphone from the stand, slowly descended from the platform, and walked over to where she was sitting. He reminded Syd of a lion stalking its prey, but in an absolutely sexual way.
If I don't need you then why am I crying on my bed?
She was unable to move, even if she had wanted to. His sudden presence was something her brain was unable to wrap around, so for the moment all she could do was watch as he approached her.
However, when he said "bed," Syd's mind filled with images that were most inappropriate for her to be having considering how she was a agent for the CIA and he was a wanted man.
If I don't need you then why does your name resound in my head?
Sark stopped in front of her, and produced a single red rose out of thin air with a magician's flair as his eyes bore into her own.
If you're not for me then why does this distance maim my life?
Tucking the flower gently in her hair, Sark's hand brushed against her cheek, and Syd felt herself melting from the heat of his touch, and she closed her eyes in bliss as her lips parted in a sigh. He trembled slightly as he softly brushed her skin with the back of his hand. His hand lingered there as he continued to sing.
If you're not for me then why do I dream of you as my wife?
Syd gasped and looked up into his eyes, which were burning with a variety of emotions. She saw so much love and sorrow and sincerity it made her heart overflow, but she also saw his desire for her, which caused her to blush lightly. Strangely enough, his obvious feelings for her didn't embarrass her; she felt flattered, and she gave him a small, reassuring smile.
Sark looked relieved, and he relaxed slightly as he stepped back from her, creating a space between their bodies.
I don't know why you're so far away
But I know that this
much is true
We'll make it through
And I hope you are the
one I share my life with
'Get back here, damnit!' Syd commanded in her mind, resenting the distance between them. 'Don't leave me, Sark!'
As if he could hear her thoughts Sark smiled at her and took one of her hands into his own, and Sydney felt herself grow warm again as the pleasant tingles spread throughout her body again.
And I wish that you could be the one I die with
Sark, ever the gentleman, brought her hand up to his face and tenderly kissed it. Syd couldn't keep a bright blush from taking over her face as she smiled widely.
And I pray in you're the one I build my home with
Hitting the high note in the word "with" with perfect clarity and tone, he grinned at her and winked, causing Syd to laugh. 'I know it doesn't show, but he's actually nervous about singing in front of all these people. I'm going to have to tease him about that later. I also have to ask him how he stays in such great shape. . .'
I hope I love you all my life
With that simple statement, Sark bowed slightly over her hand and returned to the platform and put the microphone back on the stand as he sang the chorus.
I don't want to run away but I can't take it, I don't
understand
If I'm not made for you then why does my heart tell
me that I am
Is there any way that I can stay in your arms?
All around her, people were grinning and looking at her and him, knowing that there was something going on between the two of them. Everybody seemed to be enjoying the show, and Sydney glowed with pride as she watched Sark perform. His voice sank down to a husky whisper as he sang the next part, and Syd shivered at the sound of his voice.
'Cause I miss you, body and soul so strong that it takes my
breath away
And I breathe you into my heart and pray for the
strength to stand today
The music got louder as it led up to a dramatic climax, and a sense of anticipation grew as everyone wondered what the next line would be. Syd found herself leaning forward on the edge of her seat wondering what Sark would say next.
'Cause I love you, whether it's wrong or right
His words rang defiantly throughout the quiet restaurant as he met Sydney's gaze with his own intense stare, and all the female listeners sighed in envy at the heart-felt sentiment. Why couldn't their husbands and boyfriends say wonderful things like that?
'Just like Romeo and Juliet,' thought Syd dreamily, as she cupped her chin in her hand and stared at the arresting figure Sark made with the lights shining in his pale hair, which, thankfully, had grown out since the Mexico City Incident and was back to its former glory.
And though I can't be with you tonight
Sark's voice sounded sorrowful as he pointed out an obvious point: With him on the run and wanted by the CIA, it wasn't safe for them to be together. He was taking a huge risk by being in the restaurant to serenade her tonight, and she wondered how he planned to get away with Dixon and Vaughn not ten feet away.
And know my heart is by your side
It was a promise from him to her; his heart would be hers, and hers would belong to him. Sydney knew that he would never betray her trust or her heart. He loved her. And she loved him. There wasn't any more to it than that.
I don't want to run away but I can't take it, I don't
understand
If I'm not made for you then why does my heart tell
me that I am
Is there any way that I could stay in your arms
Singing the chorus once more, Sark let the song trail off and he bowed his head over the microphone as the restaurant burst into thunderous applause. Many people rose to their feet in an standing ovation.
Looking up from his dramatic pose, Sark smiled and waved to the cheering diners. This act of vanity caused the other CIA agents to snap out of their stupefied states, and Lauren was the first to react.
Standing up, she grabbed a small, single-shot derringer from her clutch and shouted over the din, "Mr. Sark! Put your hands up! You are under arrest under the jurisdiction of the CIA!"
Sark looked at her in surprise and froze, and Syd realized that he didn't know that she was CIA. As Lauren steadied her gun, Sydney stood up, letting the force of her sudden rise flip the table over and hit Lauren in the back of her head. To the sound of the tableware shattering around their feet, Lauren stumbled forward, dropping the derringer in the process, and hit her head on the edge of the platform, stunning herself.
Sydney spared Lauren a glance, but she wasn't worried when she saw Vaughn quickly kneel down to see how badly she was hurt. Syd's attention was on Sark, who met her gaze, and smiled at her in response. She smiled back and waved to him as he turned to run off the stage and out the front doors, blowing kisses all the way. Sydney couldn't stop laughing.
Dixon, Marshall, and Weiss all ran in pursuit of the fleeing Sark, however when they got out the front doors, Sark was nowhere to be found. After a few fruitless minutes of searching, they gave up the search and returned to see how Lauren was and to discuss what had just happened.
The young busboy from earlier came and helped the group return their table to its upright position and swept up their broken tableware. When everything was cleaned up, he bent down and when he straightened he was holding a cloth napkin.
"Here's your napkin, Miss," he said to Sydney, placing the article in her lap.
She looked up at him in surprise and, as her fingers curled around the napkin, questioned, "Are you sure-"
Feeling a piece of paper crinkle inside the folds of the napkin, she stopped, and amended, "Oh, yes. Thank you." Weiss looked at her in confusion, but she just raised her eyebrows in response as she surreptitiously slipped the napkin and its contents into her small purse, and he shrugged as if to say "whatever."
They stayed a while longer and finished their dinner since there was nothing they could do about Sark at the moment. Dixon had notified the local Police department to ask them to pick up and detain any man matching Sark's description, however, seeing how it was so late, Dixon didn't make them meet that night to discuss Sark's sudden switch of careers.
All through the main course, Vaughn kept asking what had just happened between her and Sark, but Sydney denied knowing any more than he did. After a while he stopped, thanks to Lauren's gentle intervention, but he looked extremely perplexed, angry, and uncertain. The rest of the dinner conversation was focused on speculating about Sark's singing debut and what it meant, but nobody brought up the topic of her and Sark again.
Soon after dessert, they all left for their respective homes, and Sydney felt the day catch up with her as she opened her front door and hung her coat on the rack. Feeling terribly weary, she changed out of the red dress and pulled on some comfortable pajamas, then she walked into the kitchen and fixed herself a cup of green tea. Retiring to her new couch, she thought about what had just happened at dinner.
Sark loved her, that much was obvious.
The question was: Was she in love with Sark, or was that just an illusion created by the music? Could she forget the fact that he was the man who had orchestrated Francie's murder?
When she admitted it to herself, Sydney didn't know how she felt about him. He was most definitely a "bad guy," and yet she felt herself yearning for him. He had killed her best friend, but only an hour or so ago he just stood up and sang his heart out for her. What kind of walking contradiction was he?!
Well, she already knew the answer to that one: A damn sexy contradiction with a killer voice and body to boot!
Sighing, Syd looked at the clock and saw it was nearly one in the morning. This kind of rationalization was getting her nowhere. Then she remembered the hidden note in the napkin the busboy--who, she now understood, had been working for Sark the whole time--had slipped to her. She grabbed her purse off the counter and pulled out the napkin. Unfolding it, a small slip of paper four inches long fell out. She picked it up and smiled when she saw what was written on it in a precise hand:
EnglishSpy007
Book Chat: 5048915
Sydney felt her smile grow broader and broader, until it threatened to split her face as she stared at the scrap of paper.
So she didn't know how she felt about Sark right now.
So he was being hunted down by the police and the CIA.
It might work between the two of them, and then again, it might not.
Anything could happen. After all, life was full of choices.
She might learn how to love and live again after Vaughn.
What she did know was that there was a possibility.
He was a possibility.
They were a possibility.
Sark and Sydney.
It sounded good.
Sydney smiled and turned on her computer.
R & R!
