lAuthor's Notes: Everyone enjoy last night's ep? I sure did! Anyway, thanks
again for all the great reviews (I'm over 50! Whoo hoo!) and keep them
coming! They help me write better and faster! (by the way, this is my
longest chapter yet, so major hype, eh!)
Disclaimer: Don't own these fine characters, ABC + J.J. Abrams luckily do!
As much as I wanted to enjoy our kiss, I had to pull back. I had to know why Sark is doing this, kissing me. More so, I had to know why I was kissing him back. It seemed so wrong, but it felt so perfect. I didn't know what to feel. I was enjoying working with Sark when I should be despising it and trying to find a way out of here. Yet, I was sitting in front of a fire that we both made kissing Sark.
"Wait," I say.
"Yes?" he replies.
"Why do we keep, um, kissing?" I had to ask.
"A mighty find question, Sydney, I know you are trying to find a reason to not kiss me, yet your conscious is telling you to continue."
"Yet, you still didn't answer my question," I tell him.
"I suppose I didn't, did I?" he says.
"Well, it's just that, Sark, you and I both know that we shouldn't be like this. We should be at each other's throats trying to kill each other, yet, we're kissing in front of a beautiful fireplace," I state.
"Your points seem to be valid, but yet, they are not true in some respects, but why?" he asks me.
"I've been asking myself that over and over. Honestly, I can't figure out," I state.
"You say we're kissing in front of a beautiful fireplace," he recalls.
"Yes, and?" I reply.
"I say I'm kissing a beautiful woman," he says and stuns me. It's taking me a second to comprehend all this, in which I think I forgot to breathe.
"Are you okay, Sydney, you appear as if a ghost appeared," he tells me.
"I'm okay, it's just, this whole thing, and that little statement, it's like so romantic, and it's just hard for me to comprehend you being romantic, that's all," I tell him.
"That, is truly understood, but sometimes, you have to separate work and personal life. One thing you've had problems separating in your past," he informs me. That was a little mean, but he did have a valid point.
I look down. This was all too much to handle. Sark and I weren't getting anywhere, either. He wasn't being really deep, but vague. I just wanted to cry right now.
"Sydney," I says and places his hand on my cheek. His touch once again made my spine shiver. That was it. His touch was magical and had to mean something.
"I don't know what to say right now," he tells me.
"That's a first, wouldn't it be?" I reply.
"True," he says and sighs. "Our lives have taken a major shift recently, haven't they?"
"Yes, and neither of us can handle it," I say.
"I remember the first time your mother showed me your profile," he tells me. "It was sitting open on her desk and I was a new recruit in the organization. I went into her office to go over a mission and it was sitting there, your picture. You hadn't switched over yet, but your mother seemed confident you would soon."
"When was that?" I ask him.
"Two years ago," he informs me.
"You've only been with her for two years and now you possess all her assets?" I ask him.
"I know, I rose through the chain pretty fast, didn't I?" he remarks in that somewhat cocky attitude.
"Did, she ever, what I mean to say is, did she ever want you to kill me?" I had to ask him. I had to get some better intel on my mother and Sark seemed pretty open right now.
"She informed that it was possible to run into you on a mission, and that the foremost priority of the organization was to capture you, not kill you. I could never come to kill you, if I had to," he says. He became very quiet after that.
"Thank you," I say quietly to respond. Then, I scoot up to be lying with him on the couch. We snuggled in each other's warmth and soon fell asleep.
I woke up early that morning still to be lying with Sark on the couch. I just sat still and gazed into the ashes of the fire to think. We did have an interesting conversation last night, but it didn't resolve in any true answers. I don't know if we ever will be able to have a true conversation. Did we only kiss each other because we needed each other? Or do some real feelings exist? There had to be some answers.
I felt Sark getting up, his body was shifting. I turned my head to meet his and he was awake as well. We stared into each other's eyes for a minute until Sark spoke.
"Good morning," he says in his oh so cherry accent.
"Buenos dias," I reply.
"Had to go Spanish on me, did we?" he asks.
"I thought I might want to throw it into the mix, if you were actually wondering," I reply.
He smiles at me, then leans it, places a nice peck on the cheek, and shifts me so he can get out. I obviously blushed and he smiled when that occurred.
"Would you like to join me on a morning run?" he asks me.
"Isn't it dangerous?" I reply.
"Actually, I know a little trail that no one is aware of. I'll have one of my men join us as well," he says.
"Sounds good. I'll go grab some shoes," I reply.
I went into my room, grabbed the shoes and went out onto the front porch, where Sark was already waiting. He gave me a nod and we were off. We remained quiet for most of the run, Sark was in lead, I followed behind him, and one of his goons followed close, but not too close behind. We finished and we had ran for about 45 minutes. It felt good just to run and take in the surroundings. Sark and his Goon could actually keep up with me, which was surprising. We returned back to the house, and Sark wasn't exactly the happiest.
I see that someone had came to the cottage and killed the rest of Sark's security detail. I had a gun with me, Sark did, and so did his goon, so we all carefully enter the house. It was in shambles. Someone obviously had come looking for the key, but Sark planned for something like this and kept it in his pocket during our run. We looked in the entire house and no one was left. I wonder if it was someone getting Sark back for killing Mark Summer. That mystery I guess would have to wait.
"Get your stuff, I called our car, it's here, we're leaving," he tells me.
The car took us to the airstrip we had landed the plane on and under Sark's direction, we got back on his personal jet. We did this and the next thing we were up in the air, headed for the northern location of the journal. Hopefully we wouldn't have any surprises at the location.
We were on the plane when Sark received a phone call. He stood up and went to the front of the plane. He was speaking in all hushed tones, so obviously he didn't want me to hear. It was possibly information on those who ransacked the cottage. I occasionally glanced back at him and the tone of his voice seemed worried. It was certainly, interesting.
When Sark returned back at his seat, he held a glass of, I believe, Scotch, and just looked like he needed to unwind. I took his free hand and held on to it. He looked over at me and could emit a smile through all of it. Something was up.
"Want to tell me what's going on?" I ask him.
"What do you mean?" he replies. He's going for the non-knowing approach.
"Now seriously, you of all people should know you can't lie to me," I tell him.
"I suppose that is true, wouldn't it be?" he quietly replies.
"Something bad happen?" I muster out.
"Normally that seems to be the case, isn't it?" he says.
"Always is, so how about you share? I always have to talk to my friend when ever I am down about something," I tell him.
"Who, your Vaughn?" he asks me.
Vaughn. That's right. I wonder how he's been doing through all of this. I've probably had him worried sick. I felt so bad. He would hopefully thank me later, if I could get Sark in my pocket.
"Yes, on occasion I do speak to Vaughn," I reply.
"Well, if you honestly want to know," he starts.
"Yes, I do," I tell him and grasp a hold of his hand again for comfort.
"At the same time someone had ransacked the house, simultaneous attacks occurred on three other locations of mine. Some of them held some of my research and artifacts, but the other one was just a random location. And honestly, I don't know who's doing it," he informs me.
"I had not heard that SD-6 or the CIA was planning such an attack, before I left anyway," I tell him.
"I highly doubt it was those two. Or any branch of the Alliance for that matter. They don't have enough courage to do such a thing."
"That certainly is true," I say.
"Anyway, I'll get over it. And they didn't attack my operations center so I honestly don't have to worry too much."
His operations center? Hmm. I wonder if that's where we're going.
"Uh, Sark, where are we going, anyway? I thought we were supposed to be going to northern England to get the Rambaldi journal?" I ask him.
"I suppose, but our plans have slightly altered. Due to the recent attacks, I must return to my operations center to assess the damage, this little mission will have to wait," he replies.
"What? But when will I get to go home?" I ask him.
"You weren't minding it before," he tells me.
"I know, I do enjoy your company, but this can't last forever!" I reply.
"Why not? You could stay with me and work with me. We'd be the perfect pair. And you know about our physical attraction as it is, so that could increase," he implies to me.
He was asking me to work for him again? Oh gosh.
"Well, once again, I'm going to pass on the offer," I inform him.
"Why?" he asks.
"Because I work for the good guys, and you my friend, are definitely a bad guy," I reply.
"So that's what it comes down to?" he asks me.
"Basically, yes."
"That's not the way it should be, Sydney, we're enjoying each other, you and I both know this, so stay with me," he pushes onto me.
"I'd rather not," I reply.
"Sydney, I've seen you work, I've worked with you and against you. And through all of it, I've only been able to deduce one thing from it. I'm in love with you."
~You like that? Tell me how much!~ Masquerade
Disclaimer: Don't own these fine characters, ABC + J.J. Abrams luckily do!
As much as I wanted to enjoy our kiss, I had to pull back. I had to know why Sark is doing this, kissing me. More so, I had to know why I was kissing him back. It seemed so wrong, but it felt so perfect. I didn't know what to feel. I was enjoying working with Sark when I should be despising it and trying to find a way out of here. Yet, I was sitting in front of a fire that we both made kissing Sark.
"Wait," I say.
"Yes?" he replies.
"Why do we keep, um, kissing?" I had to ask.
"A mighty find question, Sydney, I know you are trying to find a reason to not kiss me, yet your conscious is telling you to continue."
"Yet, you still didn't answer my question," I tell him.
"I suppose I didn't, did I?" he says.
"Well, it's just that, Sark, you and I both know that we shouldn't be like this. We should be at each other's throats trying to kill each other, yet, we're kissing in front of a beautiful fireplace," I state.
"Your points seem to be valid, but yet, they are not true in some respects, but why?" he asks me.
"I've been asking myself that over and over. Honestly, I can't figure out," I state.
"You say we're kissing in front of a beautiful fireplace," he recalls.
"Yes, and?" I reply.
"I say I'm kissing a beautiful woman," he says and stuns me. It's taking me a second to comprehend all this, in which I think I forgot to breathe.
"Are you okay, Sydney, you appear as if a ghost appeared," he tells me.
"I'm okay, it's just, this whole thing, and that little statement, it's like so romantic, and it's just hard for me to comprehend you being romantic, that's all," I tell him.
"That, is truly understood, but sometimes, you have to separate work and personal life. One thing you've had problems separating in your past," he informs me. That was a little mean, but he did have a valid point.
I look down. This was all too much to handle. Sark and I weren't getting anywhere, either. He wasn't being really deep, but vague. I just wanted to cry right now.
"Sydney," I says and places his hand on my cheek. His touch once again made my spine shiver. That was it. His touch was magical and had to mean something.
"I don't know what to say right now," he tells me.
"That's a first, wouldn't it be?" I reply.
"True," he says and sighs. "Our lives have taken a major shift recently, haven't they?"
"Yes, and neither of us can handle it," I say.
"I remember the first time your mother showed me your profile," he tells me. "It was sitting open on her desk and I was a new recruit in the organization. I went into her office to go over a mission and it was sitting there, your picture. You hadn't switched over yet, but your mother seemed confident you would soon."
"When was that?" I ask him.
"Two years ago," he informs me.
"You've only been with her for two years and now you possess all her assets?" I ask him.
"I know, I rose through the chain pretty fast, didn't I?" he remarks in that somewhat cocky attitude.
"Did, she ever, what I mean to say is, did she ever want you to kill me?" I had to ask him. I had to get some better intel on my mother and Sark seemed pretty open right now.
"She informed that it was possible to run into you on a mission, and that the foremost priority of the organization was to capture you, not kill you. I could never come to kill you, if I had to," he says. He became very quiet after that.
"Thank you," I say quietly to respond. Then, I scoot up to be lying with him on the couch. We snuggled in each other's warmth and soon fell asleep.
I woke up early that morning still to be lying with Sark on the couch. I just sat still and gazed into the ashes of the fire to think. We did have an interesting conversation last night, but it didn't resolve in any true answers. I don't know if we ever will be able to have a true conversation. Did we only kiss each other because we needed each other? Or do some real feelings exist? There had to be some answers.
I felt Sark getting up, his body was shifting. I turned my head to meet his and he was awake as well. We stared into each other's eyes for a minute until Sark spoke.
"Good morning," he says in his oh so cherry accent.
"Buenos dias," I reply.
"Had to go Spanish on me, did we?" he asks.
"I thought I might want to throw it into the mix, if you were actually wondering," I reply.
He smiles at me, then leans it, places a nice peck on the cheek, and shifts me so he can get out. I obviously blushed and he smiled when that occurred.
"Would you like to join me on a morning run?" he asks me.
"Isn't it dangerous?" I reply.
"Actually, I know a little trail that no one is aware of. I'll have one of my men join us as well," he says.
"Sounds good. I'll go grab some shoes," I reply.
I went into my room, grabbed the shoes and went out onto the front porch, where Sark was already waiting. He gave me a nod and we were off. We remained quiet for most of the run, Sark was in lead, I followed behind him, and one of his goons followed close, but not too close behind. We finished and we had ran for about 45 minutes. It felt good just to run and take in the surroundings. Sark and his Goon could actually keep up with me, which was surprising. We returned back to the house, and Sark wasn't exactly the happiest.
I see that someone had came to the cottage and killed the rest of Sark's security detail. I had a gun with me, Sark did, and so did his goon, so we all carefully enter the house. It was in shambles. Someone obviously had come looking for the key, but Sark planned for something like this and kept it in his pocket during our run. We looked in the entire house and no one was left. I wonder if it was someone getting Sark back for killing Mark Summer. That mystery I guess would have to wait.
"Get your stuff, I called our car, it's here, we're leaving," he tells me.
The car took us to the airstrip we had landed the plane on and under Sark's direction, we got back on his personal jet. We did this and the next thing we were up in the air, headed for the northern location of the journal. Hopefully we wouldn't have any surprises at the location.
We were on the plane when Sark received a phone call. He stood up and went to the front of the plane. He was speaking in all hushed tones, so obviously he didn't want me to hear. It was possibly information on those who ransacked the cottage. I occasionally glanced back at him and the tone of his voice seemed worried. It was certainly, interesting.
When Sark returned back at his seat, he held a glass of, I believe, Scotch, and just looked like he needed to unwind. I took his free hand and held on to it. He looked over at me and could emit a smile through all of it. Something was up.
"Want to tell me what's going on?" I ask him.
"What do you mean?" he replies. He's going for the non-knowing approach.
"Now seriously, you of all people should know you can't lie to me," I tell him.
"I suppose that is true, wouldn't it be?" he quietly replies.
"Something bad happen?" I muster out.
"Normally that seems to be the case, isn't it?" he says.
"Always is, so how about you share? I always have to talk to my friend when ever I am down about something," I tell him.
"Who, your Vaughn?" he asks me.
Vaughn. That's right. I wonder how he's been doing through all of this. I've probably had him worried sick. I felt so bad. He would hopefully thank me later, if I could get Sark in my pocket.
"Yes, on occasion I do speak to Vaughn," I reply.
"Well, if you honestly want to know," he starts.
"Yes, I do," I tell him and grasp a hold of his hand again for comfort.
"At the same time someone had ransacked the house, simultaneous attacks occurred on three other locations of mine. Some of them held some of my research and artifacts, but the other one was just a random location. And honestly, I don't know who's doing it," he informs me.
"I had not heard that SD-6 or the CIA was planning such an attack, before I left anyway," I tell him.
"I highly doubt it was those two. Or any branch of the Alliance for that matter. They don't have enough courage to do such a thing."
"That certainly is true," I say.
"Anyway, I'll get over it. And they didn't attack my operations center so I honestly don't have to worry too much."
His operations center? Hmm. I wonder if that's where we're going.
"Uh, Sark, where are we going, anyway? I thought we were supposed to be going to northern England to get the Rambaldi journal?" I ask him.
"I suppose, but our plans have slightly altered. Due to the recent attacks, I must return to my operations center to assess the damage, this little mission will have to wait," he replies.
"What? But when will I get to go home?" I ask him.
"You weren't minding it before," he tells me.
"I know, I do enjoy your company, but this can't last forever!" I reply.
"Why not? You could stay with me and work with me. We'd be the perfect pair. And you know about our physical attraction as it is, so that could increase," he implies to me.
He was asking me to work for him again? Oh gosh.
"Well, once again, I'm going to pass on the offer," I inform him.
"Why?" he asks.
"Because I work for the good guys, and you my friend, are definitely a bad guy," I reply.
"So that's what it comes down to?" he asks me.
"Basically, yes."
"That's not the way it should be, Sydney, we're enjoying each other, you and I both know this, so stay with me," he pushes onto me.
"I'd rather not," I reply.
"Sydney, I've seen you work, I've worked with you and against you. And through all of it, I've only been able to deduce one thing from it. I'm in love with you."
~You like that? Tell me how much!~ Masquerade