Sydney awoke, her body entwined with Sark's, his arms possessively around
her. She was happily surprised. She was always one to require her own
space as she slept, even with Vaughn, sometime in the middle of the night
she rolled herself free. In the past, she had always woken up on the
opposite side of the bed, alone, never before having fit completely enough
with anyone to remain comfortably entangled.
She sensed Sark was awake, even though his eyes were closed, and confirmed it when he pulled her tighter.
He opened his eyes. "Do you regret, now in the light of day?" He asked softly, surprising her.
"No," she shook her head and kissed his shoulder. She had many questions, she had concerns, but they could wait a little longer, and they wouldn't cause her regret regardless, she wouldn't allow it. "Will you shower with me?" She asked.
Sark smiled. "Did you think I would let you shower alone, even if you wanted to?"
"Mmmm." Sydney began with a lazy smile. "Mr. Sark, just because I slept with you, do you think you're going to get everything your way now? You think you're in control after one tumble in the bedroom?"
"I was in control before 'one tumble in the bedroom.'" He replied, his hand running down her back, and lower..
"Really." Sydney asked, taking her hand and tracing it up his thigh. She heard an intake of breath from Sark, who expecting something other than what she was planning.
Sydney gave Sark a sharp pinch on his inner thigh, laughing.
"Ow-" Fully awake now, he grabbed her hand and was on top of her instantly.
"What?" Sydney asked, still laughing.
Sark didn't answer. He gently pushed inside her and she gasped and forgot about everything.
************************************************************************
They showered together, taking turns running the soap more than necessary over the length of each other's bodies, making sure no part was left unattended.
Sydney relished in the feeling of Sark's wet body pressed against hers under the hot water, kissing his wet lips. If only all her mornings could start as such.
They got no further than the bed again, upon finishing. It was afternoon as they held each other stretched out amid the soft pillows and blankets, slowly caressing and exploring and teasing.
Later, as they both lay breathless, Sydney knew it was time to ask questions. She sighed, and twisted around to meet Sark's eyes.
She started with something easy.
"What's your name?"
"What?" Sark asked.
"I've just slept with you. three times without knowing your name. I think I should know."
There was a pause. "You do." Sark answered.
Sydney scowled. "No, I don't." She said.
"Sark is my name, my first name. A long time ago, I dropped my last name for safety reasons and decided to just go by 'Sark,' not that there are many Sark's in the world, so it wouldn't be too difficult to ascertain my identity, but why go around advertising it? When people began calling me 'Mr. Sark' out of respect, everyone assumed it was my last name."
"All this time.. Sark." Sydney breathed. She couldn't say it didn't fit. It was just like him to answer one question only to open the door to another. She finally had his first name, but now what was his last?
She would have to get that answer later, she told herself. Other matters were more important.
Sark waited while Sydney digested this and prepared her next question. He knew the interrogation was coming. He knew she was burning with questions, he knew she deserved answers, but he didn't know how much he could tell her. He didn't know all the answers himself.
He had to make a decision soon. The room was still, silent and sunny. No outside noises could be heard through the thick glass doors to the balcony, only the sunlight was let in, casting an ethereal glow on Sydney.
She thought up and discarded several other inquiries before suddenly spitting out what was foremost on her mind.
"Tell me the truth about you, about Dixon, about everything."
Sark gave a long pause again and Sydney thought he may not give her an answer. But then he began to speak and she exhaled and listened to each word like it was the most important information she ever received in her life.
"I was recruited by British Intelligence at eighteen. Specifically, Q1. After three years I was assigned to go under cover working for," Sark took a breath, "your mother."
Sydney blinked in disbelief, then her eyes grew wide. She was too stunned to speak just yet. She was afraid he wouldn't continue if she uttered a word anyway. Sark added, "I've been working undercover, as an agent of Irina's, for five years."
He continued, "When I captured you in Budapest, what I said was about Dixon was a lie. A half lie. Dixon did discover the truth about SD-6, however, Sloane learned of his knowledge and was prepared to dispose of him. Sloane always underestimated Dixon. In such a situation, Dixon didn't have the option to be a double agent like yourself. The only thing the CIA could offer him was the protection program. Can you imagine he'd be happy in that life?"
Sark didn't expect an answer. "So, I made Dixon an offer to join British Intelligence. Why, you don't need to know. I offered Sloane the Rambaldi manuscript in Jakarta, among other things, in exchange for Dixon's release. That is why I could never let you have it. As I said, Sloane always underestimated Dixon, so he agreed, providing I work for him for the next few months, until all the sensitive information Dixon had about SD-6 could be changed, assuring he could do no direct harm."
"I committed myself as the guarantee of Dixon's cooperation until that time. At most, Sloane saw the situation as losing an asset and gaining an adversary, but I doubt he really thought about Dixon too much. He never considered him a top agent- a major mistake. In return for the small loss, he gained two important Rambaldi pieces, and my services for a while."
Sydney could hold back no longer. She breathed excitedly, "All this time, you've really been one of the good guys?"
"Why do you do that?" Sark demanded.
"Do what?" Sydney asked, confused, her excitement suddenly brought down a peg by his tone.
"Separate the world like that. Good guys, bad guys. It's not all black and white, Sydney. It's not a fairy tale."
Sark took a breath. This was the point of no return. Did he lie? Did he even know the truth?
"Yes, I ultimately work for 'good', for British Intelligence. But as I'm sure you know, Q1 has more of an 'end justifies the means' philosophy, not like CIA. And when you're deep under cover, Sydney, things change, you change. Sometimes you have to sacrifice for the greater good. Often."
It was said, no turning back now, Sark thought.
Sydney's heart beat as it did the night before. He was one of the good guys! She didn't care if he had a different philosophy than her own, he was working for the same goals, that was all that mattered. It all seemed too good to be true. She had finally given in, given up fighting what she felt for Sark, and now she learned that they were really on the same side, that there was no need for shame, or guilt. She had everything she wanted. She loved Sark, whether she was allowed to or not, but it was all that much better now that her conscience gave her heart it's blessing.
Sydney positioned herself on top of Sark and kissed him deeply. In her entire life she was never happier than she was at that moment.
"Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me. I love you." She said.
For a second, Sydney thought Sark looked pained by her words.
"Sydney-" He started.
Her stomach dropped. She covered his mouth with her fingers, fearing his response. "Don't." She said. "Don't say anything you don't want to. Whatever you say, whatever you are, whatever you feel, it won't change the way I feel."
She moved off him, intending to rise, more hurt than she was showing, but a hand grabbing her arm stopped her.
Sark pulled her back into him.
"I love you, too, Sydney." He whispered into her ear.
She sensed Sark was awake, even though his eyes were closed, and confirmed it when he pulled her tighter.
He opened his eyes. "Do you regret, now in the light of day?" He asked softly, surprising her.
"No," she shook her head and kissed his shoulder. She had many questions, she had concerns, but they could wait a little longer, and they wouldn't cause her regret regardless, she wouldn't allow it. "Will you shower with me?" She asked.
Sark smiled. "Did you think I would let you shower alone, even if you wanted to?"
"Mmmm." Sydney began with a lazy smile. "Mr. Sark, just because I slept with you, do you think you're going to get everything your way now? You think you're in control after one tumble in the bedroom?"
"I was in control before 'one tumble in the bedroom.'" He replied, his hand running down her back, and lower..
"Really." Sydney asked, taking her hand and tracing it up his thigh. She heard an intake of breath from Sark, who expecting something other than what she was planning.
Sydney gave Sark a sharp pinch on his inner thigh, laughing.
"Ow-" Fully awake now, he grabbed her hand and was on top of her instantly.
"What?" Sydney asked, still laughing.
Sark didn't answer. He gently pushed inside her and she gasped and forgot about everything.
************************************************************************
They showered together, taking turns running the soap more than necessary over the length of each other's bodies, making sure no part was left unattended.
Sydney relished in the feeling of Sark's wet body pressed against hers under the hot water, kissing his wet lips. If only all her mornings could start as such.
They got no further than the bed again, upon finishing. It was afternoon as they held each other stretched out amid the soft pillows and blankets, slowly caressing and exploring and teasing.
Later, as they both lay breathless, Sydney knew it was time to ask questions. She sighed, and twisted around to meet Sark's eyes.
She started with something easy.
"What's your name?"
"What?" Sark asked.
"I've just slept with you. three times without knowing your name. I think I should know."
There was a pause. "You do." Sark answered.
Sydney scowled. "No, I don't." She said.
"Sark is my name, my first name. A long time ago, I dropped my last name for safety reasons and decided to just go by 'Sark,' not that there are many Sark's in the world, so it wouldn't be too difficult to ascertain my identity, but why go around advertising it? When people began calling me 'Mr. Sark' out of respect, everyone assumed it was my last name."
"All this time.. Sark." Sydney breathed. She couldn't say it didn't fit. It was just like him to answer one question only to open the door to another. She finally had his first name, but now what was his last?
She would have to get that answer later, she told herself. Other matters were more important.
Sark waited while Sydney digested this and prepared her next question. He knew the interrogation was coming. He knew she was burning with questions, he knew she deserved answers, but he didn't know how much he could tell her. He didn't know all the answers himself.
He had to make a decision soon. The room was still, silent and sunny. No outside noises could be heard through the thick glass doors to the balcony, only the sunlight was let in, casting an ethereal glow on Sydney.
She thought up and discarded several other inquiries before suddenly spitting out what was foremost on her mind.
"Tell me the truth about you, about Dixon, about everything."
Sark gave a long pause again and Sydney thought he may not give her an answer. But then he began to speak and she exhaled and listened to each word like it was the most important information she ever received in her life.
"I was recruited by British Intelligence at eighteen. Specifically, Q1. After three years I was assigned to go under cover working for," Sark took a breath, "your mother."
Sydney blinked in disbelief, then her eyes grew wide. She was too stunned to speak just yet. She was afraid he wouldn't continue if she uttered a word anyway. Sark added, "I've been working undercover, as an agent of Irina's, for five years."
He continued, "When I captured you in Budapest, what I said was about Dixon was a lie. A half lie. Dixon did discover the truth about SD-6, however, Sloane learned of his knowledge and was prepared to dispose of him. Sloane always underestimated Dixon. In such a situation, Dixon didn't have the option to be a double agent like yourself. The only thing the CIA could offer him was the protection program. Can you imagine he'd be happy in that life?"
Sark didn't expect an answer. "So, I made Dixon an offer to join British Intelligence. Why, you don't need to know. I offered Sloane the Rambaldi manuscript in Jakarta, among other things, in exchange for Dixon's release. That is why I could never let you have it. As I said, Sloane always underestimated Dixon, so he agreed, providing I work for him for the next few months, until all the sensitive information Dixon had about SD-6 could be changed, assuring he could do no direct harm."
"I committed myself as the guarantee of Dixon's cooperation until that time. At most, Sloane saw the situation as losing an asset and gaining an adversary, but I doubt he really thought about Dixon too much. He never considered him a top agent- a major mistake. In return for the small loss, he gained two important Rambaldi pieces, and my services for a while."
Sydney could hold back no longer. She breathed excitedly, "All this time, you've really been one of the good guys?"
"Why do you do that?" Sark demanded.
"Do what?" Sydney asked, confused, her excitement suddenly brought down a peg by his tone.
"Separate the world like that. Good guys, bad guys. It's not all black and white, Sydney. It's not a fairy tale."
Sark took a breath. This was the point of no return. Did he lie? Did he even know the truth?
"Yes, I ultimately work for 'good', for British Intelligence. But as I'm sure you know, Q1 has more of an 'end justifies the means' philosophy, not like CIA. And when you're deep under cover, Sydney, things change, you change. Sometimes you have to sacrifice for the greater good. Often."
It was said, no turning back now, Sark thought.
Sydney's heart beat as it did the night before. He was one of the good guys! She didn't care if he had a different philosophy than her own, he was working for the same goals, that was all that mattered. It all seemed too good to be true. She had finally given in, given up fighting what she felt for Sark, and now she learned that they were really on the same side, that there was no need for shame, or guilt. She had everything she wanted. She loved Sark, whether she was allowed to or not, but it was all that much better now that her conscience gave her heart it's blessing.
Sydney positioned herself on top of Sark and kissed him deeply. In her entire life she was never happier than she was at that moment.
"Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me. I love you." She said.
For a second, Sydney thought Sark looked pained by her words.
"Sydney-" He started.
Her stomach dropped. She covered his mouth with her fingers, fearing his response. "Don't." She said. "Don't say anything you don't want to. Whatever you say, whatever you are, whatever you feel, it won't change the way I feel."
She moved off him, intending to rise, more hurt than she was showing, but a hand grabbing her arm stopped her.
Sark pulled her back into him.
"I love you, too, Sydney." He whispered into her ear.