Even though Sydney was wrapped in her fluffy bathrobe, the room suddenly felt very cold. "What did you say?" Her words came out in a hoarse whisper.

"Jack Bristow is not my father." Sark repeated for her in a slow cadence.

Sydney started to do a slow burn. "Then she did sleep around!" She threw the accusation back in his face.

Sark jumped up to confront her. "Watch what you say, Sydney." He said warningly. "I don't tolerate anyone insulting my mother."

"It's not an insult. It's a statement of fact and you're living proof of that." Her eyes flashed as she stood her ground.

"Irina did not sleep around." He insisted, backing off a bit but not much.

"Her husband is not the father of her child." Sydney said succinctly. "Therefore, she is a wh--"

Sark was up in her face again before she knew what was going on. He had his hand raised as if to strike her cheek. "Don't say it." He snarled at her.

"If you so much as lay a finger on me, you will regret it, I promise you that." Her voice was dangerously quiet. Sydney Bristow was never one to back down, especially to an opponent she could beat with one hand tied behind her back.

Sark stared at her a few moments longer and then his hand slowly returned to his side. He knew Mother would not appreciate it if he lost his temper with Sydney and besides, he had other ways of making his sister squirm.

"I apologize." He said crisply. "I am just naturally over-protective of Mother and sometimes I react without thinking."

Sydney said nothing, so he went on. "Now where were we?" He pondered. "Ah, yes, my paternity."

"Yes, you were trying to convince me that cheating on one's husband does not constitute sleeping around." Sydney's mouth quirked.

"There was only one other man." Sark informed her after a long pause. "She did not display her wares on the street corner when your father was out of town." He said indignantly.

Cheating was cheating as far as Sydney was concerned, but she didn't press it. "So did she tell you his name?"

"I've always known who my father was." Sark nodded with a dramatic pause. "His name is Arvin Sloane." He grinned evilly when he saw how floored Sydney was.

How many more bombshells could she take in one day? Sydney felt as if her head was about to explode. It had taken every ounce of strength she had left in her body just to come to grips with the fact that she had lost the love of her life in a tragic accident. Now she had to deal with a mother-come-back-from-the-dead, a brother she'd never even known existed and on top of that, her sworn enemy was the father of said brother? God, would the rain on her parade never stop?

"Arvin Sloane is your father." Sydney let out a short, almost hysterical laugh. Should she have expected anything less? Of course not, for the Fates controlling her life had one very sick sense of humor. The thought of her mother and Sloane…it made Sydney's skin crawl to think of Irina letting Sloane touch her and she quickly pushed the picture out of her mind before it became too graphic.

"So she tells me." He said smoothly.

"Did he know she was pregnant with his child?" Could that explain why Sloane always acted like a surrogate father towards her? Oh, God, what if their affair had started long before Sark's conception? What if--

Sark's voice interrupted her thoughts. "She said she never told him."

"You know, Sloane knew Irina didn't drown in that river." Sydney said urgently. "If he knew about you--"

"I don't believe he does." Sark shook his head. "At least, he didn't acknowledge it when I was a reluctant guest of your SD-6 a little while ago."

Even though she felt nothing but disdain for Sark, she had enough empathy within her to realize what a monumental event that must have been for him. "That was the first time you came face to face with your father." Sydney uttered softly.

He nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. "I had always pictured him as a sort of larger-than-life character, but in reality, he looks like an ordinary man."

"You don't know him." She said quietly. "He's hardly ordinary."

"Well, no matter." Sark seemed to brush away all thoughts of his father as easily as he might brush the crumbs from his suit. "We are supposed to be discussing other things."

"Are we going to go back to her again?" Sydney said wearily.

"She only wants you to listen to what she has to say without launching back a sarcastic retort every five seconds." Sark said plaintively.

"I am not going to be a docile little puppy dog who will follow her blindly to the ends of the earth." Sydney stated haughtily. "That's what she has you for."

Sark sighed. "You just can't help yourself, can you?" He gave her a long look. "All right then, Sydney, if I have to resort to a bribe, I will."

"A bribe?" She gave a sarcastic snort. "What do you have that I could possibly want?"

"Even though you refuse to acknowledge it, I know you were the woman in Denpasar." Sark studied her face carefully. "Therefore, I know you are acquainted with that man, the agent who briefly had me in custody."

"Why do you keep bringing him up?" She asked crossly. She did not want to talk about Vaughn, especially with Sark.

He ignored her question and came back with one of his own. "Would you be interested to know that he's here?"

Sydney's head jerked up. "You have him?" She couldn't keep the urgency out of her voice. She tried not to picture where they were keeping Vaughn's lifeless body, but she wouldn't have put it past any of them to be disrespectful.

Sark raised an eyebrow, realizing he had just exposed Sydney's vulnerable spot. "He was found at the warehouse." He informed her. "It was not a…pleasant discovery." The look on his face was clearly one of distaste.

But she didn't care about appearances. All she cared about was that she would have the chance to see him again. One last time.

"I want to see him." She said imperiously.

"Sydney, you are in no position to demand such favors." Sark replied, a pitying look on his face.

Her eyes narrowed. "You came here to convince me that I should give Irina a chance to say her piece. You let me see him and I will agree to listen to her."

Sark looked thoughtful. "You attach a lot of importance to this man." He observed.

She ignored his jibe. "That is the deal, Sark. You can tell Mummy you accomplished your mission and maybe she'll give you a gold star for being such a good little boy."

He gave her a genuinely confused look. "I don't know what that means. What is a 'gold star'?"

Sydney flushed, a long-forgotten memory suddenly creeping its way back into her consciousness. "She taught summer school one year at the local elementary school near our house. I remember my father saying that it was beneath her because her knowledge base was on a university level, not grade school." Her eyes took on a faraway haze as she reminisced.

"But she told him she was a teacher first and foremost and it didn't matter whom she taught just as long as they learned something from her."

"I remember sitting with her at the dining table as she graded her papers and I'd watch as she would write something encouraging at the top of the page. Then she'd hand it to me and I would place a little gold sticker next to her words." Sydney met Sark's eyes solemnly. "It signified a job well done."

For once, the perpetual smirk on Sark's face was absent and he was seemingly at a loss for words. "Well, if you'll get dressed, I'll go tell Mother you're willing to talk to her now." His tone was oddly stiff and formal.

"And afterwards, you take me to see--" She stopped short, unsure of what to call Vaughn so as not to raise Sark's suspicions. "You'll take me to see my partner."

"Very well." He nodded. "I will tell Mother what we have agreed upon and after your talk, I will take you to your…partner." With his slight pause, he let Sydney know she hadn't fooled him.

"Fine." Sydney strode over to the armoire. Sark watched as she started rummaging through a few outfits.

 "I believe Mother is rather partial to that little white frock." He suggested as she surveyed each garment.

"She was the one who chose these clothes for me?" Sydney looked over her shoulder at him.

"Yes, Mummy's picking out your outfits again just as she used to do when you were a child." Sark cooed sarcastically at her, their brief détente a distant memory.

Sydney spun around to face him. "Don't you forget that I'm all grown-up now and I have no qualms about hurting you if you go back on your word, brother or not!"

Sark's lips curled into an amused smile. "You have my word as your devoted brother, Sydney." He said in an overly exaggerated manner.

Sydney snorted. "For all that's worth!" She said disparagingly and Sark stifled a chuckle until he was outside in the corridor. His older sister could be quite amusing.

He had always known of her existence and had often wondered what it would be like to have a sibling. He had grown up as an only child and therefore, was obviously always the center of attention.

But now he was suddenly having to face life with an older and possibly more favored sister, a person who might steal away the preferential treatment from their mother that he had been used to having his entire life. He wasn't quite sure what Irina had in mind for Sydney, but it would bear watching very closely.

Sark strolled downstairs to the library. He walked in without knocking and caught his mother dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. He frowned. Irina Derevko was not an overly emotional woman, at least not that he had ever seen. Sydney's rejection must have hurt her deeply.

"Mother, break out your gold stars!" Sark announced ceremoniously, pretending not to notice as Irina tucked the handkerchief away in her pocket.

"What are you talking about, Sergei?" Irina was the only person who called him by his given name. She sniffled and then put on a bright smile for her son.

"Never mind, it was just something Sydney told me."

"You've spoken with her?" She looked expectant.

"Yes, and she has agreed to talk to you."

Irina looked surprised and pleased. "How on earth did you manage to convince her?"

"It was easy." Sark said boastfully. "I simply offered her something she wanted."

Irina raised a questioning eyebrow. "And what would that be?"

"She wants to see the man we found in the warehouse."

"The one we found after the flood waters receded? He was with her?" Irina absorbed this new bit of information with a pensive look on her face. "The man was searched, but we found no identification on him."

"No, you probably wouldn't have." Sark shook his head. "Sydney wouldn't confirm it for me, but I believe he is CIA. He is the same man who captured me in Denpasar, but he doesn't work for SD-6 because they commandeered me after he left me alone."

Irina looked thoughtful. "He must mean a great deal to her." She looked at Sark. "Did you tell her in what condition we found him?"

"She didn't seem to care." He shrugged carelessly. "All she wanted was to see him, so I agreed. I made no promises in regard to his fitness and well-being."

"Sydney will be in for a rude awakening when she sees him." She mused. "Perhaps we should warn her…"

Some evil streak in Sark's character made him say what he said next. "Mother, I'm afraid you're wasting your concern on Sydney. She has shown no regard for the pain you've been going through all these years and she made it pretty clear to me that she has no intention of joining us."

"She just needs time, Sergei."

Sark shook his head balefully. She was so willing to make excuses for Sydney. He abruptly changed the subject. "Mother, there's something else Sydney and I discussed." He declared. "I told her who I am."

Irina looked wary. "You told her you're her brother?"

"Yes," Sark affirmed. "Naturally, she was quite shocked."

"What else?" Irina could just imagine all of the choice words Sydney would have for her after finding out just how deeply her betrayal of Jack had been.

"I'm not quite sure if she believed me." Sark replied. "You'll probably have to convince her."

"Did you also tell her about your father?"

"I had to, Mother." His expression was regretful. Sark played it as if he had had no other choice and his mother didn't comprehend how satisfying it had been for him to send Sydney reeling once again. "Sydney was under the misguided impression that Jack Bristow was my father. I had to set her straight."

Irina closed her eyes with a chagrined look on her face. "Good Lord, she probably hates me more than ever now!" She covered her face with her hands.

Sark frowned, not liking what his sister's presence was doing to his mother. Sydney was making her weak and that did not sit well with him. He strode over to the desk and pushed a button on the intercom. "Will someone please go upstairs and bring Ms. Bristow down to the library?" He ordered, the language of his native country flowing flawlessly from his lips. After he disconnected, he went over to Irina.

"Mother, you must get hold of yourself." Sark put a comforting arm around the older woman. "You must present a strong, capable front to Sydney. You will earn her respect much quicker that way."

"Sergei, you don't realize what it is to long for something until your heart aches for it only to have it reject you the moment it sees you." Irina said unhappily.

"Mother, are you sure this is what you want?" Sark questioned her. "If having Sydney here upsets you so, we can get rid of her by any means possible…"

"Sergei, there will be no talk of that!" Irina suddenly rose up before him. "She is your sister, for God's sake!" Her eyes flashed at her son and he knew there would be no crossing her.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Sydney didn't wait for a response and simply walked in to find her mother and…brother in a seemingly tension-filled stance.

"I-I'm here to talk." She said uncertainly.

"I will leave the two of you alone." Sark excused himself from the situation. "When you are ready to see your partner, please ring for me on the intercom." He said to Sydney before leaving the library.

Irina pasted a smile on her face. "You're wearing the dress I bought you." She commented.

Sydney looked down at herself. She had chosen the "white frock" Sark had recommended, a simple white sundress with little ties at the shoulders. It was the kind of dress you might wear to a lazy afternoon picnic or to a party on a hot summer night and it fit her perfectly, which was no great surprise to her considering Irina's obsessive attention to detail.

"I didn't have much choice since my own clothes are…really not my own clothes." Sydney finished awkwardly.

"And I am glad to see that you did not dye your beautiful hair that particularly lurid shade of blue."

"All part of the costume." Sydney shrugged, perching herself gingerly on the edge of one of the wine-colored wing chairs.

"You have a very chameleon-like quality, Sydney, and I mean that as a compliment." Irina said approvingly. "You are able to take on a persona and inhabit it like a second skin. That's what makes you such an extraordinary agent. No one ever suspects you to be anything more than what you appear."

Sydney didn't want to listen to her mother shower compliments on her. Not when Vaughn was waiting for her on the other side of this conversation. "Let's cut to the chase, shall we?" Sydney said briskly, but not disrespectfully. "Tell me why I'm here."

"I want you to join my organization, Sydney." Irina replied. "I want us to work together the way I always planned for it to be."

"You want me to work for you." Sydney said slowly. She had known the offer was coming, but it still left a bad taste in her mouth.

"Not for." Irina shook her head. "With. There's a difference."

Semantics. "And what if I refuse?" She kept her eyes trained on the older woman. "Am I going to be eliminated because I know too much?"

Irina's face hardened. "No matter what you think of me, Sydney, you are still my daughter and I could never bring myself to hurt you." She turned away for a moment so that Sydney wouldn't see the hurt in her eyes.

"No, you'd have one of your flunkies do the job for you." Sydney said under her breath, too low for Irina to make out the words.

"However, that being said, you know too much for me to let you go." Irina turned to face her again, her calm and collected mask back in its place. "I'm not ready to give up Khasinau as my front for The Man just yet."

"Are you telling me I'm to be kept here as a prisoner?" Sydney was incredulous. Was this woman who had given birth to her really that cruel?

"It is your choice how you will spend your time with me, Sydney." Irina said dispassionately. "You can either have every freedom it is within my power to give you or you will be locked in your room without privilege."

"That's hardly a choice." Sydney said bitterly.

"Then you should have no trouble in deciding what to do." Irina's tone was arrogant.

Sydney pressed her lips together to keep from blurting out what Irina could do with her oh-so-generous offer. She had to keep on her good side, at least until they had discussed what to do about Vaughn. "If you keep me here, what are you going to tell Dad?" She struggled to keep her voice even.

Irina looked surprised by her question. "I hadn't really thought about it."

"Well, please do." Sydney did not wish to beg, but she would if she had to. "You don't know what it would do to him if I disappeared without a trace."

"I am quite astonished at how protective you've become of your father, Sydney." Irina commented lightly. "You and Jack were never very close when you were a child. I remember it was always you and I ganging up on him whenever we wanted to get our way." She tried to remind Sydney of happier times.

"And I remember that he would always give in to you because he wanted to make you happy." Sydney said sadly.

"He was too sentimental for his own good." Irina sniffed, the tone of her voice making it clear that she considered it his weakness. Sydney glared at her, but said nothing.

Irina sensed some hostility emanating from Sydney and hastened to abate it. "Nevertheless, I am pleased that your relationship with your father is progressing quite nicely these days. I know that wasn't always the case after I…left."  She finished awkwardly. No matter how much Irina wanted to forget that she had abandoned her daughter as a child, somehow she knew it would always be a point of contention between them.

"We were working things out." Sydney gave her mother an imploring look. "Please, he never did anything to hurt you. You thought he was suspicious of you, but he never turned you in."

"Don't you think you at least owe him the courtesy as one parent to another of letting him know his daughter isn't dead in some drainage ditch somewhere in Taipei?"

Irina's face remained implacable. "I will think about it, Sydney."

Sydney wanted to scream. Did the woman have no feelings whatsoever? "I won't work for you if you leave him hanging like that." Sydney said darkly. "You already did it to him once. After the accident, he still had hopes that somehow you had survived because they never found your body. Don't do that to him again with me." She said warningly.

"I said I would think about it, Sydney." Irina said frostily. "Now then, do you have an answer for me?"

"I--you-you can't expect me to answer you right away." Sydney said, flustered. "I need time to think."

Irina briefly considered her request. "Very well. Tonight at dinner, you will give me your answer." She said in a no-nonsense tone.

"Why are you rushing me?"

"The world doesn't stop because you have a crisis, Sydney. There is still a lot of work to be done and I see no point in dragging this out." Irina replied tersely. "I want you with me, but I will not beg you. I believe you already know your answer, but I will let you have some time to think about it to be sure it is what you really want."

"Fine." Sydney stood up quickly and experienced a little light-headedness. Nothing to eat and lack of sleep was bound to make a person a bit unsteady on her feet.

Irina gave her a concerned look. "You haven't eaten all day, Sydney. Do you want me to have the cook fix you something?"

"No, I'm not hungry." She shook her head. "Will you call Sark and tell him I want to go see my partner?"

"If you will eat something after you see him."

Sydney nodded in acquiescence. Irina crossed over to the desk and buzzed for Sark to fetch Sydney.

A few minutes later, Sark, Sydney and two armed guards were walking outside into the late afternoon sunshine. She took the opportunity to look over the grounds. A large rectangular swimming pool dominated the back of the house, with lush tropical gardens flanking it on either side. Sark and Sydney took off down a stone pathway that took them towards a small bungalow situated quite a bit away from the main house. The cottage was surrounded by a number of shade trees and it was much cooler here as the overgrown vegetation blocked the sun's rays from beating down on their heads. As they approached, Sydney could see another guard outside the front door.

"Is that--is that where he is?" She asked tentatively.

"Well, we didn't know what to do with him and we couldn't put him in the main house." Sark wrinkled his nose at that revolting thought.

Sydney couldn't exactly blame him. She had come in contact with recently dead bodies before and it wasn't a pleasant experience for the senses.

Two steps led up to the front door. Sark prepared to go in ahead of her when she grabbed his arm in a rather bold gesture.

"Can I please see him alone?" She asked.

Sark raised an eyebrow. "As long as you don't try anything, Sydney." He warned her. "The guards will be waiting outside to take you back to the house."

"Thank you." She said gratefully.

Sark left for the main house and Sydney walked up the steps. She stopped outside the front door, wondering if she was strong enough to face what she would find. She took a deep breath as she placed her hand on the doorknob.

The door was unlocked. Why not? She thought wildly. It's not as if they had to worry about him escaping.

Sydney stood for a moment in the open doorway, letting her eyes adjust to the dim light. The room was cool and comfortable, a light breeze gently lifting the gauzy white curtains that hung over the open-air windows.

She gazed at her surroundings. It looked to be a guest cottage of some sort. There was a small sitting area with a writing desk made of glass and chrome and a straight-backed chair against one wall and a beige linen loveseat against another. A pile of magazines in various foreign languages sat atop a glass coffee table. She opened the door to her right and discovered a bathroom, spotless and unused. Then she forced herself to look at the bed.

His body was there, a light coverlet pulled up to his chest. The much-admired leather duster was gone. She swore softly to herself, hoping that whoever had stolen it would get run over by a bus for his act of thievery.

Sydney forced her feet to move towards the bed, her eyes filling with tears at each step. His hair is still damp, her mind screamed and she remembered how it had felt to run her fingers through his hair as she moussed it up for their club-hopping gig.  

Sydney stopped at the side of the bed and knelt down on the floor beside him. "Oh, Michael, please forgive me! You have to know that the last thing I wanted was for you to be hurt." She closed her eyes as she squeezed out a few tears.

"I didn't know until it was too late how much you meant to me and now you'll never know." Through eyes blurred by tears, she gazed at his finely chiseled face, his features in complete repose. "How does that saying go, 'You should never put off tomorrow what you can do today'? I suppose this is what I get for putting it off."

Sydney sniffled. "You were always there for me, Michael, whenever I needed you. In your own way, you were telling me that I could count on you for anything and I knew what that meant even though part of me didn't want to acknowledge it." She shot him a slightly guilty look. "I hope you're not embarrassed that I knew how you felt about me. I wish I could have been as honest with you."

"I guess I was just plain scared to tell you." She confessed, a bit sheepishly. "I know you always thought I was brave and fearless, but that was when I was doing things that didn't matter to me. Whenever I went out on a mission, it was never me beating up the bad guys or stealing computer codes. That was Sydney Bristow, Super Spy." She said self-deprecatingly.

"But the Sydney Bristow who just wanted to be an ordinary woman was a coward. She was afraid to be happy because when she is, something always ruins it." Sydney's voice cracked. "You, of all people, know I'm not exactly batting 1.000 when it comes to holding on to the men in my life. I thought if I never said anything to you, you would at least be safe from the curse that seems to follow every man who ever loved me." She gave a mirthless laugh. "I guess my perfect record is still intact, though. Another one bites the dust."

"But I shouldn't have been afraid. Not of you." Her voice was thick with tears. "Even if we were ultimately doomed, I should have told you. I owed you that much after everything you did for me. At least we would have been able to have had that time together and it would have been so precious to me, although God knows how we would have managed to pull it off." She said ruefully.

Sydney dropped her gaze, her eyes focused on the tight weave of the blanket because it hurt too much to look at him. "Do you know when we first met that it didn't even register with me how extremely attractive you were?" She let out an involuntary giggle. "I must have been blind back then, I don't know."

"But then one day, you smiled at me and you said I looked pretty." Sydney could remember feeling that blush all the way down to her toes. "You gave me a smile that went straight to my heart and it was as if I was seeing you for the first time. That's when it hit me, Michael." Sydney gave him a sad smile.

"If I could have one wish in my sorry lifetime, it would be for you to know that I love you, Michael. I love you and I always will." Sydney closed her eyes and then gently placed a kiss on his lips.

To be continued…

Author's Note: Just wanted to include a little P.S. to everyone (and especially Corinne, who I always seem to single out because your reviews always bring up specific plot points, which I love) that I do realize the same story elements have been worked and re-worked many times before, but hopefully I am putting my own spin on it.  I chose to take things in this direction with Sydney & Sark as sibs and Sloane & Sark as father and son just because I think J.J. is leaning that way in the show.  The potential for conflict is just too great to pass up.  Can't you just imagine the confrontations between Syd & Sark or Jack & Sloane with Irina in the middle of it all?  I think it would be awesome.

Anyway, thanks for reading my little ramblings and please let me know what you think of the latest chapter!