I am especially proud of this chapter and so I hope you all enjoy it. Please let me know if you do or don't!
3a
Time had slipped away from her. Suddenly she was pacing around a small room, twirling a purple orchid, waiting for her 'wedding' to begin.
"There you are my dear. All set?"
Turning, a more difficult action under this many layers, she eyed the woman entering the room.
"I guess so."
The chapel matron was rather short and somewhat heavy set, but that hadn't stopped her from squeezing into a skirt and corset. The resulting cleavage was shocking enough to drive her eyebrows up into her hair line.
"Having second thoughts?"
Almost laughing aloud at the question she managed a weak nod, before the woman launched into another loud commentary.
"Now, now. Every woman has those thoughts before their wedding. It's a natural thing. Although with one so good looking as yours, I wouldn't have thought there would be much consideration. And what a lovely choice for a wedding. Pirate romance indeed. Much more inventive than the standard Elvis /Priscilla theme we do nightly. Had one of those earlier in fact."
Managing another weak nod, she tried hard not to picture pirate Sark in her head. Sark in black pants. Tucked into black boots. A creamy white shirt, flaunting tan skin, accented by a deep blue waist band. A deep blue matching the blue of his waist coat. A sudden laugh jolted her out of her perusal.
"Thinking about the wedding night I bet. I remember my own. What a night."
Wedding night?
"Well then. I think it's about that time. Now all you have to do is stand here and this door will open when everything is set. You have your bouquet?"
Looking down at the flower in her hand she nodded. Her voice it seemed had abandoned her. Once they'd left the room. Silent since, well since 'it' happened, he had pulled her absently along through the lobby. There had been her no argument from her of any kind. She was too stunned by what had happened to note her surroundings or that he had pulled her into a small flower shop in the lobby.
A quick look around was all it had taken for him to select the long stemmed orchid and hand it to her rather brusquely. She'd managed a quiet thank you before she was once again pulled along, this time to the chapel itself. Parting ways at the entry, she'd lost sight of him when the bosomed woman ushered her in here.
'Get it together Bristow.' There was a mission to complete. The kiss had been an aberration. Brought on by lack of adequate oxygen and the hypnotizing effect of the Captain's hat he wore.
That's all it was. Setting her shoulders, she noted she was alone again. Faint music could be heard through the door before her. Silently the door swung open. 'Show time.'
3b
Amazing. Looking around he figured the word suited his thoughts. The room he stood in was quite simply amazing. Someone had turned the gaudy chapel projected on the wall of the SD-6 conference room into the cabin worthy of any ships captain.
From the dark wood paneled walls, to windows looking out over the ocean. He half expected the room to begin swaying with the current. Shaking his head he ran his hand over the desk before him.
The power of money rattled even him at times. Standing here, dressed in full pirate regalia, getting ready to get married in the bow of a 'ship' and no one had blinked an eye. Music began to play and he turned.
"Good evening sir."
Turning towards the voice he was met by an elderly gentleman. Taking the offered hand, he shook it with the strength only good breeding could afford. A good handshake was crucial to how you were perceived. Too strong or too weak and people noted. Anonymity was much safer.
"Good evening."
"I hope everything is to your satisfaction?"
Glancing about the room he saw no reason not to show his appreciation. Simply because this was a ruse, didn't mean the attention to detail hadn't been flawless.
"It most assuredly is."
Noting the look of pride on the other man's face, he allowed a smile to grace his lips. Respecting one's pride in their work demanded respect in turn. Even if one's life work was dressing chapels for the obscenely wealthy.
"Then we may begin?"
Steeling himself for the inevitable sight of her, he nodded. Kissing Sydney Bristow had been an object of many a fantasy, but the reality of it hardly compared. The woman was an inferno. One that could consume him. Make him forget himself, forsake all others for a simple taste of her.
There would be no consumption. No forsaking. He was Sark. Not some man who would lose himself to a woman, even a woman such as her.
Violins grew louder, signaling the time had arrived. Making his way over to the minister. He adjusted the belt that hung over his hips, the thing rested comfortably given that it supported a rather lovely, if not heavy, sword.
The piece was nothing like the fencing ones he had trained with at school, but he had tested the weight in his room and appreciated the quality of the work. He may just have to keep it. Would serve Flinkman right after having to endure this.
Especially the hat. He had thrown away the awful black wig that had accompanied the outfit and simply wore the scarf. The hat would have met the same fate, but one look from her and he had begrudgingly slipped it on.
A door opened to his right and he saw her silhouette framing the entry. Deep breath in. 'Focus.' The phone and camera was tucked away in the massive waist band of his, they were only here to collect data.
Taking a deep breath, her foot stepped forward as the first strains of the march hit her. Sparing a glance at her surroundings she was surprised at how beautiful the room was. For all intents and purposes they were in a ship. Candles were lit through out the room, lighting her way to the altar. To him.
Thinking that she was more beautiful in candlelight than anything he had ever seen, was not helping maintain his control. Reigning in his wayward thoughts, he tried counting backwards from one thousand.
By 995 he had given up and allowed himself to drink in the sight of her. When would he ever be in this situation again? May as well take advantage of what could result.
One foot in front of the other. Would she ever get there? The distance between them seemed to stretch as his eyes locked onto hers. Try as she might, she couldn't tear her gaze away. The jolt of desire snuck up on her and heat pooled between her legs.
Stumbling on the hem of her skirts she felt her footing give and braced herself for the inevitable fall. Eyes shut she waited for the pain, only to be surprised when arms wrapped themselves around her.
Opening her eyes, she found herself staring into blue eyes. He'd caught her.
For the CIA's most valuable asset she was certainly a clumsy creature. Reaching her before she toppled over, he noted how soft she was over the steel that made her who she was.
When her eyes opened to meet his, he felt part of himself slip away at what he saw. 'Not good. Not good.' Righting her, he slipped her hand into the crook of his arm and together they made their way to the altar.
"Dearly beloved we have gathered together her to witness the joining of Julian and Anne."
Words were spoken, false promises given over bands of precious metals, and then she heard the phrase she'd been dreading.
"You may now kiss the bride."
He wouldn't dare? The smirk he sent her gave her every indication that he would indeed take the dare.
Rational thought dictated a small kiss to the lips would be the safest route. As his head moved in to signal their 'union,' he did not miss the way her eyes widened and her pupils slightly dilated. Ignoring rational thinking, his arms wrapped themselves around her waist, crushing her against him as his lips found their way back to hers.
On their own her lips parted, welcoming him back. Moaning into his mouth, she leaned into him, grateful for the arms holding her upright. Christ, but he was made perfectly for kissing. A wicked tongue and a crooked lip, who could ask for more?
Feeling her give way to his kiss, he took advantage by sliding his tongue into her. Fascinated once again by the taste of her. Hands had slid around his neck and he felt her fingers pressing into his skin. He truly hoped she'd leave bruises.
Somewhere, someone was clapping. Feeling his kiss fade into tiny pecks on her cheeks and nose, she took a chance and opened her eyes. The expression in his eyes was unreadable. The blue had turned so dark she fought the urge to step away from the power of them.
"Wonderful. Wonderful. Congratulations. And what a beautiful wedding set if I may say so."
Both glanced down at the matching wedding bands of platinum and then at the round cut diamond on her left hand. He'd mumbled something about the hideous things Marshall had sent along, she had merely shrugged and headed back to her room, never seeing them again. The jewelry weighing down her hand was certainly not what had been sent, but where he had gotten them was a mystery.
"I imagine you are ready for the festivities. If you'd just follow me."
Once again taking her arm and tucking it around his, he led them through a door, the woman had entered. Hoping she was ready for this he glanced at her. Portraying the blushing bride was an alias that suited her. Flushed cheeks heightened the dimples that were revealed with the smile she sent him. Not even considering the consequences he fully returned her smile.
"Ready for this?"
Nearly stumbling again at blinding beauty of his smile, she caught herself before she could make a fool of herself twice in one evening. Squeezing the arm she held she couldn't stop the words until they were already tumbling from her lips.
"Aye, Aye Captain."
3c
Long steady steps carried him from his car to the front door of his home. Balancing the bag of groceries in his left arm, he unlocked the door with his right. Taking a quick survey of the entrance he noted that everything was as he left it. Jack Bristow was not one to take any chances. Tucking the keys back into his pocket he made his way into the kitchen.
Placing the brown bag on the island he carefully withdrew the eggs and bread off the top. Bread was placed in the bread box and the eggs were deposited into the refrigerator.
Upon closing the door, his eyes scanned the row of blue post-its before him. Snatching off the one that read 'groceries' and the corresponding yellow one that among other things listed 'bread' and 'eggs.'
No one would dare call Jack Bristow forgetful, quite the opposite in fact. Faces, names and details so minute were systematically categorized in his head. That capacity for memory and recall was essential in his chosen profession.
Trivial things such as buying groceries and necessary toiletries did not need to be stored in his memory. The system he had created was simple and effective. Notes on the fridge door gave daily updates on what needed to be done.
Blue headed the topic, yellow went up should detail be required and the dreadful pink ones only help priority issues. Priority notes tended to be resolved quickly, why anyone would want pink paper for any reason was beyond him.
A ringing drew his attention from the papers to the phone in his pocket. Sparing only a glance at the caller before answering.
"Bristow."
"Jack...Mr. Bristow...Agent..."
"Yes, Marshall."
"Um, yeah. Sorry for calling. And it's late. And you weren't eating were you?"
The urge to hang up was strong, but he knew that for Marshall to call him so late, at home, something had to be wrong.
"Is there something you needed?"
"Um, yeah. It's about Sydney. Well Sydney and Sark actually. I think they might be in trouble."
3d
They were led down a dark hallway, a door on the right and one to the left were bypassed for one at the end of the hall.
"I hope you enjoy yourselves. Dinner and dessert will be served shortly per your request. If you need anything else just press the button next to the door."
With that the door before them was opened. She couldn't help the small gasp that slipped through her lips. He was ushering her in and she struggled to take everything in. As magnificent as the chapel had been, their reception hall was even more amazing.
Done up to look like a villa on some Caribbean island. Blue walls were framed by white washed moldings and large windows appeared to look over a crystal blue sea. A warm breeze picked up the curls that framed her face, and she turned her head into the make believe sunshine.
Catching a glimpse of her face basking in the faux light from the window, he swallowed a curse. They had a job to do, and by the tightening in his groin, all he wanted to do was peel away her many layers and have his way with her.
The burn of his gaze was reaching her through closed eyes. When she managed to open her eyes the look that greeted her had her taking an involuntary step back. For all the world he had never looked more intimidating or more appealing than now. The clothes and sword did much to add to the part, but it was the way he looked at her that sent chills down her spine, as if he wanted to strip her bare, consume her.
They were at a draw. Neither wanted to speak of what was mounting between them. He certainly didn't want to. So he decided simply to ignore it.
"I think it was the first door to the right. If Marshall's data is to be believed Lostner and his guests should be holed up in there right now."
Blinking at the shifting of moods, she struggled to catch up. Only one other person she knew of could switch gears so quickly and that was her Father. She wagered Sark could give him a run for his money though.
"So we get in get the scans and photos and then what? Come back here?"
Shrugging as he made his way over to the platter of appetizers and chilling bottle of champagne. Picking up an olive he popped it into his mouth. Noting, but ignoring the look of blatant desire on her face. 'All in good time.'
"Sounds reasonable. Let's give it half an hour before we move in."
A half an hour with him. In here. That paled in comparison to her sudden revelation. Olives were terrible things, horribly round things that slid perfectly into his mouth. 'God...' She needed to pull herself together. There was a mission to complete and she couldn't do that if she was obsessing over him.
Reaching for the glass of champagne he offered, she hesitated only briefly before downing the contents. 'What the hell.' Rolling her eyes at the smirk that led into a raised eyebrow she extended her arm, waving the empty glass in his direction.
"Thirsty?"
Only years of training kept his voice level, betraying none of the desire the rerst of his body was currently fighting.
"Actually yes. The night's activities have left me quite parched."
Mouth agape at the sudden change in her mood and the way her lips curled around the rim of the glass. His eyes watched the line of her neck as she swallowed the cool liquid.
"Hungry?"
Feeling far more in control than she could remember she noted the dark look of desire in his eyes, only this time she welcomed the thrill it gave her.
"My dear husband. You have no idea."
