Author's Notes: Thanks again for all the great reviews. And I hope you guys
and gals enjoy this chapter, because I certainly think you will. And I have
some GREAT things planned for the not so far future, but you'll still have
to wait! Enjoy, and of course, please review.
Disclaimer: Of course, I don't own this, J.J. Abrams does!!
I slowly opened my eyes and noticed I was lying down. In someone's lap too. And that person was, stroking my hair. That's right. I could tell it was him. The shivers came back again. I tried not too move too fast, but gently I turned my head up to see Sark staring off into space while gently stroking my hair. How did I get here, anyway? I fell asleep with my head against the wall and I wake up lying down in Sark's lap.
"Hey," he says.
"Uh, hi," I reply.
"Did you enjoy your rest?"
"Well, I suppose, but I guess I am a little, how do I say it, confused?"
He smiled at that comment, "I guess you would be, right?"
Was I seeing "Gentle Sark" or something? Quite interesting, let me tell you.
"Well, yes."
He continued to stroke my hair still. At this point, wouldn't you have guessed he would have stopped? That's what I thought. But no, he kept on going.
"You seemed restless in the other sleeping position you were tempting, so I thought I would make your rest a little more enjoyable," he replies. Very factual, but very interesting.
"I see," I say.
"Yes, I had nothing else to work on, so I guess it was the only thing to keep me busy," he informs me.
"And by keeping busy, that requires you to stroke my hair?" I ask him.
At that point, he pulls away fast. Interesting, don't you think?
"It was relaxing for me as well," he informs me.
"I see," I reply.
"We should be arriving shortly," he tells me.
"Sounds great."
"Would you, um, like anything?" he asks me. His tone was like that of a high school boy asking the popular girl to Prom.
"I guess I could take you up on that water, as long as I get to watch you intently prepare it," I tell him.
"I wouldn't worry, Ms. Bristow, I wasn't planning on harming you before the mission."
"So after is still up for grabs?" I ask.
"The possibilities are endless, I suppose," he replies.
I gently sit up and he proceeds to walk over to the bar and make my water, which as far as I could tell, purely water. He brings it back over to me and places it into my hands.
"Mm. refreshing," I say.
"I would most hope so," Sark replies.
"Oh, and by the way, you can call me Sydney," I say. He looks at me with his big eyes and is stunned. It appears I have a new grown respect for the man and this requires a little better familiarity on our parts.
"Uh, okay," he can only muster out.
"Yes."
That's when it happens. You know when you are in a conversation and the uncomfortable silence appears and everyone stairs at the floor. Yes, that's what happened. I didn't want to start or anything, because who knows what I could bring up.
"Andrew," he says.
"What?" I ask.
"Andrew, is my first name," he informs me. He actually told me. This was a big step for me. He told me his first name!
"That's a nice name," I reply.
"As soon as I joined the organization, no one has called me Andrew anymore."
"Why?" I ask. I wouldn't mind getting a little into Sark's mind for future reference.
He touches my hand and gently intertwines our fingers. "You see, when I joined, your mother thought it best I go by Mr. Sark. She said it sounded more intimidating."
"It does, doesn't it?" I say.
"Yes. It's weird even saying it anymore, Andrew. Anyway, I see we have landed, you ready to do this?" he asks me and squeezes my hand and releases.
"You bet," I reply.
We exited the plane with Goons #1-4 in tow that carried our belongings. In the short walk to the car, Sark had proceeded to link us arm to arm, as if we were a couple getting off the plan. The shiver, it came back, again. It was most magnificent. Our walking off that plane to the car felt magical, almost. We got into the first car and there was a new driver. Sark must have known him, because he started to chit-chat with him on directions where to go. Goon #1 sat in the front seat and the other 3 were in a car behind us. So, it was just Sark and I in the back seat.
"We're going to a little place I have to get ready for tonight," he informs me.
"Alright," I reply.
"We have about six hours to get ready and such and we'll want to leave by 5. My assistants will take your other necessary items to the other location where we will work out of for the retrieval of the journal." You know what, when Sark wants to be, he can be very mission ready. He seems so in tune to the job.
"Sounds good," I meekly reply.
"I wouldn't be afraid," he says.
"And should I?" I ask.
"Be afraid, you seem like it. Your heart rate is all over the place," he tells me.
"Oh, I get like that before any mission. It's just the thrill of it all," I tell him. Going for Sydney 1, Sark 0.
"I see," he replies.
"Is anyone going to be there?" I ask.
"That you know?"
"Pretty much," I say.
"My intel shows that SD-6 may know of this operation. However, my resources show that they have been investing more of their time into the recovery operation of you," Sark says.
"Really?" I gasp at that notion.
"If you know anyone in the room, you notify me immediately, understood. And if you don't, and I find out, you may not be so happy with my response," Sark tells me.
"Understood," I reply.
"Good. Now we should be to the cottage in 10 minutes, any other questions?"
"Uh, no," I say.
"Okay," he says. That was it, then he proceeded to startle me by placing his fingers in between mine. I look up at him and smile, only to notice he already is. What was going on between Sark and I? I honestly had no idea. None at all.
We got to the cottage no problem. It was actually in the middle of a small forest, so it was fairly secluded. It was nice, and the room Sark gave me to use was nice and obviously used by a woman. It had many bath oils and hair tools. I wonder if Sark new this on purpose? To let me get ready to my fullest or something of the other. On my bed the Goons had already placed my boxes there. I went into the bathroom and decided to shower and wash my hair for the interesting party we were to attend tonight.
After my shower, I headed out in the conveniently provided bathrobe and had to locate a hair dryer. It just so happened that my room did not have a hair dryer, which I myself was amazed by. So I knocked on the room next door and in a second Sark appeared at the door.
"Yes, Ms. Bristow, I mean, Sydney," he says.
"I need a blow dryer," I say.
"Ah yes, hold on one moment." He shuts his door and I wait outside the door for a minute or two. He then opened the door enough to pass it through and mutter a "here you go" and shut the door fast. What was he doing in there? Planning a world master plan of destruction or something? Oh well, I headed to my room to get ready. I wanted to look my best tonight, for some odd reason.
~~~AHH! I know, but if you like it, Review!~~~ Masquerade
Disclaimer: Of course, I don't own this, J.J. Abrams does!!
I slowly opened my eyes and noticed I was lying down. In someone's lap too. And that person was, stroking my hair. That's right. I could tell it was him. The shivers came back again. I tried not too move too fast, but gently I turned my head up to see Sark staring off into space while gently stroking my hair. How did I get here, anyway? I fell asleep with my head against the wall and I wake up lying down in Sark's lap.
"Hey," he says.
"Uh, hi," I reply.
"Did you enjoy your rest?"
"Well, I suppose, but I guess I am a little, how do I say it, confused?"
He smiled at that comment, "I guess you would be, right?"
Was I seeing "Gentle Sark" or something? Quite interesting, let me tell you.
"Well, yes."
He continued to stroke my hair still. At this point, wouldn't you have guessed he would have stopped? That's what I thought. But no, he kept on going.
"You seemed restless in the other sleeping position you were tempting, so I thought I would make your rest a little more enjoyable," he replies. Very factual, but very interesting.
"I see," I say.
"Yes, I had nothing else to work on, so I guess it was the only thing to keep me busy," he informs me.
"And by keeping busy, that requires you to stroke my hair?" I ask him.
At that point, he pulls away fast. Interesting, don't you think?
"It was relaxing for me as well," he informs me.
"I see," I reply.
"We should be arriving shortly," he tells me.
"Sounds great."
"Would you, um, like anything?" he asks me. His tone was like that of a high school boy asking the popular girl to Prom.
"I guess I could take you up on that water, as long as I get to watch you intently prepare it," I tell him.
"I wouldn't worry, Ms. Bristow, I wasn't planning on harming you before the mission."
"So after is still up for grabs?" I ask.
"The possibilities are endless, I suppose," he replies.
I gently sit up and he proceeds to walk over to the bar and make my water, which as far as I could tell, purely water. He brings it back over to me and places it into my hands.
"Mm. refreshing," I say.
"I would most hope so," Sark replies.
"Oh, and by the way, you can call me Sydney," I say. He looks at me with his big eyes and is stunned. It appears I have a new grown respect for the man and this requires a little better familiarity on our parts.
"Uh, okay," he can only muster out.
"Yes."
That's when it happens. You know when you are in a conversation and the uncomfortable silence appears and everyone stairs at the floor. Yes, that's what happened. I didn't want to start or anything, because who knows what I could bring up.
"Andrew," he says.
"What?" I ask.
"Andrew, is my first name," he informs me. He actually told me. This was a big step for me. He told me his first name!
"That's a nice name," I reply.
"As soon as I joined the organization, no one has called me Andrew anymore."
"Why?" I ask. I wouldn't mind getting a little into Sark's mind for future reference.
He touches my hand and gently intertwines our fingers. "You see, when I joined, your mother thought it best I go by Mr. Sark. She said it sounded more intimidating."
"It does, doesn't it?" I say.
"Yes. It's weird even saying it anymore, Andrew. Anyway, I see we have landed, you ready to do this?" he asks me and squeezes my hand and releases.
"You bet," I reply.
We exited the plane with Goons #1-4 in tow that carried our belongings. In the short walk to the car, Sark had proceeded to link us arm to arm, as if we were a couple getting off the plan. The shiver, it came back, again. It was most magnificent. Our walking off that plane to the car felt magical, almost. We got into the first car and there was a new driver. Sark must have known him, because he started to chit-chat with him on directions where to go. Goon #1 sat in the front seat and the other 3 were in a car behind us. So, it was just Sark and I in the back seat.
"We're going to a little place I have to get ready for tonight," he informs me.
"Alright," I reply.
"We have about six hours to get ready and such and we'll want to leave by 5. My assistants will take your other necessary items to the other location where we will work out of for the retrieval of the journal." You know what, when Sark wants to be, he can be very mission ready. He seems so in tune to the job.
"Sounds good," I meekly reply.
"I wouldn't be afraid," he says.
"And should I?" I ask.
"Be afraid, you seem like it. Your heart rate is all over the place," he tells me.
"Oh, I get like that before any mission. It's just the thrill of it all," I tell him. Going for Sydney 1, Sark 0.
"I see," he replies.
"Is anyone going to be there?" I ask.
"That you know?"
"Pretty much," I say.
"My intel shows that SD-6 may know of this operation. However, my resources show that they have been investing more of their time into the recovery operation of you," Sark says.
"Really?" I gasp at that notion.
"If you know anyone in the room, you notify me immediately, understood. And if you don't, and I find out, you may not be so happy with my response," Sark tells me.
"Understood," I reply.
"Good. Now we should be to the cottage in 10 minutes, any other questions?"
"Uh, no," I say.
"Okay," he says. That was it, then he proceeded to startle me by placing his fingers in between mine. I look up at him and smile, only to notice he already is. What was going on between Sark and I? I honestly had no idea. None at all.
We got to the cottage no problem. It was actually in the middle of a small forest, so it was fairly secluded. It was nice, and the room Sark gave me to use was nice and obviously used by a woman. It had many bath oils and hair tools. I wonder if Sark new this on purpose? To let me get ready to my fullest or something of the other. On my bed the Goons had already placed my boxes there. I went into the bathroom and decided to shower and wash my hair for the interesting party we were to attend tonight.
After my shower, I headed out in the conveniently provided bathrobe and had to locate a hair dryer. It just so happened that my room did not have a hair dryer, which I myself was amazed by. So I knocked on the room next door and in a second Sark appeared at the door.
"Yes, Ms. Bristow, I mean, Sydney," he says.
"I need a blow dryer," I say.
"Ah yes, hold on one moment." He shuts his door and I wait outside the door for a minute or two. He then opened the door enough to pass it through and mutter a "here you go" and shut the door fast. What was he doing in there? Planning a world master plan of destruction or something? Oh well, I headed to my room to get ready. I wanted to look my best tonight, for some odd reason.
~~~AHH! I know, but if you like it, Review!~~~ Masquerade