Chapter Eleven: Without You
"I can't believe she's sending me out without you," Sydney complained, throwing a pair of jeans into her suitcase. Her follow-up conversation with her mother had been pleasant enough, she supposed. Right up until the part where she had learned that Sark, not Michael, would be her partner for her next op. Of course she had tried to argue with her mother, but to no avail.
"You'll only be gone overnight," Michael reminded her. He lounged on the bed while she rocketed back and forth between the closet and her suitcase.
"God, Michael, aren't you at all worried about me going into the field without you?" Sydney asked irritably.
"Syd, you used to go on missions without me all the time," Michael said, gazing up at her with a bemused smile. Great. She was really glad he found this humorous, because she sure as hell didn't.
"But don't you think it's weird she's sending me without you?" she pressed, tossing a pair of running shoes into the suitcase.
"Not that weird," Michael said. "I'm sure someday there'll be circumstances where you and I absolutely won't be able to work together. She needs to know we can work with other people."
"Why the hell are you being so rational?" Sydney exploded, zipping the suitcase shut. "You'd almost think you wanted to get rid of me, or something."
"Sydney, what's gotten into you?" Sydney had half a mind to slap the smile right off of his face. She resisted the urge.
"Nothing. I don't know," she said, collapsing next to him on the bed. "We just haven't spent a night apart since we got here."
"Oh, honey," he said, rolling onto his side to kiss her. "I'll miss you, too."
Sydney sighed. "I love you, Michael. So much."
He smiled, reaching out to touch her cheek. "I love you, too, Syd."
She returned his smile, leaning over to kiss him again. "You'll be good while I'm gone, won't you?"
"Syd," he laughed. "What are you talking about?"
"I don't know." She reached out and took his hand, lacing her fingers through his. "I guess I just felt weird about that whole conversation we had before the party last night, and then when I saw you talking to Brooke--" she let her voice trail off, shrugging her shoulders.
"Honey," he said, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing it. "I love you. You know that."
"I know," she said, her eyes going blurry with tears. "I just-- Michael--"
"Shh, honey. Come here," he soothed, pulling her to him and wrapping his arms around her. She sobbed into his chest until a knock on the bedroom door prompted her to pull away.
"Just a minute!" she croaked.
"Sydney," her mother called. "The car is here to take you and Mr. Sark to the airport."
"Just a minute!" she repeated, then turned her attention back to Michael. "Gosh, I'd better go," she said, standing and wiping her tears away with the heel of her hand.
"Sydney," Michael said, green eyes dark with concern. "Are you going to be all right?"
Sydney took his hand, willing herself not to start crying again. "Promise me you'll be good while I'm gone, Michael."
"Sydney--"
"I need you to say it," she interrupted firmly. "And I need it to be the truth."
He stood, leaning over to give her the gentlest, sweetest kiss she had ever received. "I'll be good, sweetheart," he said, placing a tender hand on her cheek. "You just get back to me safely, okay?"
She threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest and letting him hold her close. She wished she could have stayed like that forever, but she knew she had to go. "I love you," she said, giving him one last kiss before she pulled away. "I'll be back tomorrow, okay? I don't know how late."
"Okay, honey. I love you, too."
She picked up her suitcase and started for the door, blowing him a kiss as she left. It took everything in her power not to go rushing right back into his arms.
She went downstairs to meet the car like her mother expected her to. But she couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong.
