---
What will this fix?
You know you're not a quick forgive.
And I won't sleep through this.
I survive on the breath you are finished with.
"Come Back to Bed" by John Mayer
---
Sark burst into the kitchen like a spoiled 3 year old not getting his way. He slammed the door behind him only to realize it was a swinging door.
Sark has killed many men in the past. Hundreds of innocent, or not so innocent, souls were at his mercy. At the moment, he would take it all back if he could kill just one man, one man that seemed to interfere with his life even though he wasn't in the same country let alone the same room.
Vaughn.
He leaned against the deep forest green counter as he looked at his abused kitchen. Dirty dishes from past months still lay in the sink. He dare not look in the refrigerator in fear of something molding with age might attack him.
He didn't mean to say those things to Sydney in such a tone but they were true. It had been an incredible experience for both of them. Forgetting where they were, who they were. Being so wrapped up into each other's bodies, into each other's spirits. They only cared about their wants and needs.
Sark yearned for that intimacy once again.
He wanted to forget about it all. Forget the line between fantasy and reality, between want and need, between have and take.
Sark was so deep in thought, he didn't hear Sydney come into the kitchen. He didn't realize her presence until she leaned against the counter next to him. An uncomfortable silence filled between them for a short time: They waited for the other person to speak first.
"I'm sorry," they both said at the same time. They both stiffened for a moment and then relaxed. Sydney adjusted her hips against the counter top as Sark spoke.
"I'm sorry," Sark spoke first, his tone warm and soft, "I didn't want to sound like I was angry with you. I'm just," he struggled with words for a moment, "frustrated with this situation." He didn't look at her; he instead let his chin fell against his chest as a sign he was done.
"And I'm sorry" Sydney replied, her voice small and fragile, "You were right, you did make me forget all those things: the CIA, Sloane, Vaughn." She added the last part in an uncomfortable tone.
"But you were right as well. We could never work this out. Our occupations will never allow it." Sark replied, he glanced at her briefly and then looked away. He did not understand why he was feeling so nervous with her.
"Yes." Sydney agreed with the last part. "But you know," she said as she shifted her body in his direction, "we could still enjoy it for the time being." She said, releasing a smirk. Sark looked up at her but didn't turn away; instead he returned her smirk with a smile.
"So, all is forgiven?" Sark replied as he shifted his body towards her. She replied with a small kiss on his lips. As he moved closer to deepen the kiss, she took a step back.
"Hold on." She said to Sark's dismay. "First, I need to take a shower." She smiled and a placed a small kiss on his nose as a frown became apparent on his face. She moved towards the kitchen door but stopped and turned towards him. "Do you think you can help me?"
"With what?" Sark replied, shoving his hands into his pocket. It was like dangling a bone in front of a hungry-driven dog, an inhuman torture in Sark's mind.
"You see, there's this spot on my back that I just can't reach." She said, a small laugh hidden in her words. Sark returned her smile once again and took a few strides towards her. His smile widened as his lips crashed upon hers. They both stumbled out of the kitchen, unbuttoning some clothes and tearing others: leaving a trail of remains behind them. When they finally reached the bathroom, nothing could stop them.
---
Hours later, they both lay fast asleep in Sark's bed. Sydney was the first to wake; she opened her eyes and saw the spikes from Sark's hair poke up from between 2 pillows. She felt more content knowing he was there with her, it was so much different then the panic she woke the last time they were in this situation. She didn't move for a moment, afraid to spoil the moment. She watched his chest rise and fall in a shallow, graceful pattern. She resisted the urge to trace along Sark's prevailing features: his dominant nose, pouty lips, and strong chin. She felt his arm wrapped around her, not tightly but in a secure way. Much like how a young boy would hold his security blanket.
Sark slowly lifted his eyelids and moved his head towards Sydney. She smiled in return. "Hey." She said in a faint whisper.
"Hey," he replied in a small, hoarse voice. Although he had just woken up, his eyes remained the same livid blue as ever: Sydney wanted to drown in them.
"That was wonderful." She replied as he pulled her closer to him. Her head now laid on his collarbone and her hand found a place on his stomach.
"You didn't do too bad yourself." He sighed. As his head drooped back into unconsciousness, Sydney felt a burden in her stomach that she had only started to notice.
"What's your real name?" she asked. Sark's eyes popped open and he laughed softly.
"After all we've been through, you ask that?" he chuckled, he looked down at her and saw the seriousness in her features. "It's Steve, Steve Sark."
"Oh," she replied in a slightly disappointed voice. "If my name were Steve Sark, I'd go by Sark too. Steve doesn't sound as dangerous." She teased him. Suddenly a pillow softly greeted her face. She removed it and saw Sark had turned his back to her again. Sydney tossed the pillow off to the side and wrapped her arms around him, placing small kisses on his shoulder blade.
As they were about to fall into a peaceful slumber, they both were interrupted by their stomach's combined growl. Sydney let a short laugh escape from her lips as Sark did the same.
"I can't remember the last time we ate something." She said, she lifted her head and peered over his shoulder to see a small smile on his face.
"The plane. We had those stale, salty peanuts." He replied, his chest rose and fell in a sigh. "What time is it?" Sydney shifted her body to look at the alarm clock next to his bed.
"8:30," she replied in a nonchalant voice. Sark paused for a moment and then slid out from Sydney's grip and out of bed.
"I know this Chinese restaurant around the corner." He explained as he searched his drawers for clothes. "They have the best sweet and sour pork and I should know, I've been to China plenty of times to be an expert on sweet and sour pork."
"Sex and Chinese food, you are my kind of man." Sydney smiled as she got up to find her clothes. As soon as they were all dressed and back into the aliases of Taylor and Nicole Hansen, they set out into the London nightlife.
The streets were covered with a fresh sheet of rain. Sydney and Sark hadn't known it had rained, so it was a surprise. They held hands when the neon sign of the restaurant came into view. Sydney's eyes dropped from the sign to the street below. She stopped as Sark walked past her: a look of shock mixed with happiness emerged on her face.
"Sydney?" Sark asked turned towards her; her eyes still stared straight ahead. As Sark turned his head to see what she was looking at, Sydney spoke words he didn't want to hear: not yet, not now.
"Vaughn," she said in a breathless voice, "Vaughn's here."
--
PS: Yes "Come Back to Bed" is from John Mayer's new album "Heavier Things", which I push every single human being to purchase! It's a brilliant record with wonderful lyrics and it's been on full rotation in my cd player since Wednesday! There, now I'm done with the publicity stunt! - Nicki
What will this fix?
You know you're not a quick forgive.
And I won't sleep through this.
I survive on the breath you are finished with.
"Come Back to Bed" by John Mayer
---
Sark burst into the kitchen like a spoiled 3 year old not getting his way. He slammed the door behind him only to realize it was a swinging door.
Sark has killed many men in the past. Hundreds of innocent, or not so innocent, souls were at his mercy. At the moment, he would take it all back if he could kill just one man, one man that seemed to interfere with his life even though he wasn't in the same country let alone the same room.
Vaughn.
He leaned against the deep forest green counter as he looked at his abused kitchen. Dirty dishes from past months still lay in the sink. He dare not look in the refrigerator in fear of something molding with age might attack him.
He didn't mean to say those things to Sydney in such a tone but they were true. It had been an incredible experience for both of them. Forgetting where they were, who they were. Being so wrapped up into each other's bodies, into each other's spirits. They only cared about their wants and needs.
Sark yearned for that intimacy once again.
He wanted to forget about it all. Forget the line between fantasy and reality, between want and need, between have and take.
Sark was so deep in thought, he didn't hear Sydney come into the kitchen. He didn't realize her presence until she leaned against the counter next to him. An uncomfortable silence filled between them for a short time: They waited for the other person to speak first.
"I'm sorry," they both said at the same time. They both stiffened for a moment and then relaxed. Sydney adjusted her hips against the counter top as Sark spoke.
"I'm sorry," Sark spoke first, his tone warm and soft, "I didn't want to sound like I was angry with you. I'm just," he struggled with words for a moment, "frustrated with this situation." He didn't look at her; he instead let his chin fell against his chest as a sign he was done.
"And I'm sorry" Sydney replied, her voice small and fragile, "You were right, you did make me forget all those things: the CIA, Sloane, Vaughn." She added the last part in an uncomfortable tone.
"But you were right as well. We could never work this out. Our occupations will never allow it." Sark replied, he glanced at her briefly and then looked away. He did not understand why he was feeling so nervous with her.
"Yes." Sydney agreed with the last part. "But you know," she said as she shifted her body in his direction, "we could still enjoy it for the time being." She said, releasing a smirk. Sark looked up at her but didn't turn away; instead he returned her smirk with a smile.
"So, all is forgiven?" Sark replied as he shifted his body towards her. She replied with a small kiss on his lips. As he moved closer to deepen the kiss, she took a step back.
"Hold on." She said to Sark's dismay. "First, I need to take a shower." She smiled and a placed a small kiss on his nose as a frown became apparent on his face. She moved towards the kitchen door but stopped and turned towards him. "Do you think you can help me?"
"With what?" Sark replied, shoving his hands into his pocket. It was like dangling a bone in front of a hungry-driven dog, an inhuman torture in Sark's mind.
"You see, there's this spot on my back that I just can't reach." She said, a small laugh hidden in her words. Sark returned her smile once again and took a few strides towards her. His smile widened as his lips crashed upon hers. They both stumbled out of the kitchen, unbuttoning some clothes and tearing others: leaving a trail of remains behind them. When they finally reached the bathroom, nothing could stop them.
---
Hours later, they both lay fast asleep in Sark's bed. Sydney was the first to wake; she opened her eyes and saw the spikes from Sark's hair poke up from between 2 pillows. She felt more content knowing he was there with her, it was so much different then the panic she woke the last time they were in this situation. She didn't move for a moment, afraid to spoil the moment. She watched his chest rise and fall in a shallow, graceful pattern. She resisted the urge to trace along Sark's prevailing features: his dominant nose, pouty lips, and strong chin. She felt his arm wrapped around her, not tightly but in a secure way. Much like how a young boy would hold his security blanket.
Sark slowly lifted his eyelids and moved his head towards Sydney. She smiled in return. "Hey." She said in a faint whisper.
"Hey," he replied in a small, hoarse voice. Although he had just woken up, his eyes remained the same livid blue as ever: Sydney wanted to drown in them.
"That was wonderful." She replied as he pulled her closer to him. Her head now laid on his collarbone and her hand found a place on his stomach.
"You didn't do too bad yourself." He sighed. As his head drooped back into unconsciousness, Sydney felt a burden in her stomach that she had only started to notice.
"What's your real name?" she asked. Sark's eyes popped open and he laughed softly.
"After all we've been through, you ask that?" he chuckled, he looked down at her and saw the seriousness in her features. "It's Steve, Steve Sark."
"Oh," she replied in a slightly disappointed voice. "If my name were Steve Sark, I'd go by Sark too. Steve doesn't sound as dangerous." She teased him. Suddenly a pillow softly greeted her face. She removed it and saw Sark had turned his back to her again. Sydney tossed the pillow off to the side and wrapped her arms around him, placing small kisses on his shoulder blade.
As they were about to fall into a peaceful slumber, they both were interrupted by their stomach's combined growl. Sydney let a short laugh escape from her lips as Sark did the same.
"I can't remember the last time we ate something." She said, she lifted her head and peered over his shoulder to see a small smile on his face.
"The plane. We had those stale, salty peanuts." He replied, his chest rose and fell in a sigh. "What time is it?" Sydney shifted her body to look at the alarm clock next to his bed.
"8:30," she replied in a nonchalant voice. Sark paused for a moment and then slid out from Sydney's grip and out of bed.
"I know this Chinese restaurant around the corner." He explained as he searched his drawers for clothes. "They have the best sweet and sour pork and I should know, I've been to China plenty of times to be an expert on sweet and sour pork."
"Sex and Chinese food, you are my kind of man." Sydney smiled as she got up to find her clothes. As soon as they were all dressed and back into the aliases of Taylor and Nicole Hansen, they set out into the London nightlife.
The streets were covered with a fresh sheet of rain. Sydney and Sark hadn't known it had rained, so it was a surprise. They held hands when the neon sign of the restaurant came into view. Sydney's eyes dropped from the sign to the street below. She stopped as Sark walked past her: a look of shock mixed with happiness emerged on her face.
"Sydney?" Sark asked turned towards her; her eyes still stared straight ahead. As Sark turned his head to see what she was looking at, Sydney spoke words he didn't want to hear: not yet, not now.
"Vaughn," she said in a breathless voice, "Vaughn's here."
--
PS: Yes "Come Back to Bed" is from John Mayer's new album "Heavier Things", which I push every single human being to purchase! It's a brilliant record with wonderful lyrics and it's been on full rotation in my cd player since Wednesday! There, now I'm done with the publicity stunt! - Nicki