Come Back to Me
Chapter Two
Sark opened the car door for her. Neither wanted to say anything about the almost kiss or what would have happened if Vaughn had interrupted. They entered the SD-6 office together, Sark's hand unconciously on the small of her back.
"Miss Bristow!" Marshall called out. "You got here really fast!"
"What do you mean?"
"Mr. Sloane just called another meeting."
Sydney sighed. Another mission. She had just gotten back from one today. They entered the conference room and found Jack and Sloane already waiting.
"How nice of Sleeping Beauty to grace us with her presence."
Sydney glared up at Sark who shrugged innocently. Sydney sat down and Sark followed suit.
"The statue you stole needs a key to open it. The key is here."
He pulled up a picture of a mansion.
"It's actually a hotel owned by this man."
"Estevan Poliatez." Sark supplied.
"Correct, Mr. Sark. He owns the mansion in San Jose."
"We're going to an island." Sydney said.
"As a honeymooning couple."
"Who is a honeymooning couple?"
"You and Mr. Sark."
Sydney shook her head. Going as a honeymooning couple would not make the kissing feelings go away.
"Oh, calm down, Sweetheart. We both know how to pretend."
"Sweetheart." Sydney set her gaze on him, shooting deadly glares.
"You're my new wife. Terms of endearment seem appropriate."
Sydney sighed loudly.
"You leave tonight."
She nodded.
"Right now. We've already prepared island clothes and your aliases for you. Dismissed."
Marshall pulled Sydney into his office and explained the tech to her. Then, she called Francie to tell her she wasn't coming home.
"Hey, Francie. I have another trip. Yeah. I know I just got back, but I'm going to an island, so it won't be too bad. Sark is going with me. What?! Francie! Sark is not beating me up. Will told you all about it, huh? Oh, Good Lord, Mr. Sark is not abusing me."
Sydney heard Sark chuckling behind her. She swatted at him until he stopped.
"No, I did not get that bruise from him. I dropped a book on my head. Yes, I promise. That's the truth, Fran. Good bye."
"I'm abusive?"
"Will told her all about it."
She joined in his laughter.
"Come on. We've got a plane to catch."
"Commercial flights disgust me." Sark commented as they left the Credit Dauphine building.
"Oh, darling, come along! We have to go check in!" Sark called after Sydney, in his usual British accent.
"I'm coming, Hugglebear. I just absolutely cannot get over this place!" Sydney replied, in a disty drawl. Sark pulled her to him and they entered the lobby, ignoring the stares they both received.
"Hello, Jonathan Aksander. Mr. and Mrs. Aksander."
Sydney wiggled her ring finger.
"Newly Mrs. This place is absolutely gorgeous."
"I totally agree with my wife. We should have a reservation."
The concierge smiled politely.
"The honeymoon suite."
Sydney giggled. She stared into Sark's eyes and could see the amusement sparkling in them. He kissed her nose affectionately. Real affection. Sydney smiled brightly. The way they could work together like that was amazing. They hadn't practiced any dialogue or anything. They just went with it and the other could always pick up the slack. The concierge handed over the key.
"Enjoy your stay."
"Oh, we will." Sark took her hand and she hung onto his arm. He punched the elevator button and they made their way to the suite.
"Wow. It really is beautiful. I love islands."
"Don't you mean it is absolutely gorgeous?" Sark imitated.
"Why, yes, Darling." Sydney mocking his own voice. They smiled at each, the usual angry tension gone.
"I'll call Sloane and find out where the key is hidden."
"Okay."
Sark dialed his cell phone.
"Mr. Sloane. We're here."
"Ah, Mr. Sark. We haven't been able to locate which room the key is in. We'll know by tomorrow, but that means you'll actually have to stay for a night."
"You get to tell Sydney about this."
"Just tell her the country needs her. She'll buy into that."
Sark shook his head, hating to hear Sloane say that.
"Contact us as soon as you know."
"Good bye, Mr. Sark."
Sark turned and plastered a charming smile on his face.
"So, how do you feel about sleeping overnight in this absolutely gorgeous place?"
"What?!"
"They aren't sure where the key is, so we have to stay here until they find out."
"Great." Sydney put her head in her hands.
"You want to go out tonight?"
"Excuse me?"
"You've been working hard and so have I. We're stuck on a beautiful island for the night. Who wants to sit around in the hotel room?"
Sydney tilted her head.
"Are you asking me out, Mr. Sark?"
"No. Just offering to keep you entertained."
"Okay, okay. Give me an hour."
Sydney slipped into the bathroom to get ready.
Sydney emerged from the bathroom 45 minutes later. Sark couldn't stop himself from scanning over her. She was wearing a silver halter top, yet it was fairly modest, and black pants. Her hair was in curls and her make up light, with red lip gloss, making her lips look even more kissable. He had changed, also, wearing jeans and a button shirt, designer, of course. He held out his arm and Sydney cautiously took it. They sat down at the hotel restaurant for the first stop of the evening. "Tell me about you, Sark." Sydney requested, quietly. She had being dying to know anything she could about him. He was so secretive, so mysterious, she had to know.
"What do you want to know?"
"Your real name and age to start with."
"I'm 27. My name is Andrew."
"Wow. That was easy."
He smiled. "I don't have to be so secretive right now. We aren't even working at the moment. Besides, I sincerely doubt that you're going to go tell everybody about me."
She smiled briefly. Her cell phone rang. It was her CIA issued phone. She shook her head in denial and groaned.
"Don't answer it. Call him back when we're done."
"Who?"
"Mr. Vaughn."
Sydney shrugged non commitedly. He always knew. But she didn't answer it. Sark sipped his Petreuse and studied the girl before him. He loved her. She was his equal. He was usually so much more intelligent than everyone, but not Sydney Bristow. She was lovely and brilliant.
"Do you want to go to a club after this?"
"I'm trying to picture you in a club."
Sark smirked.
"I do act like I'm my age sometimes."
"When no one is looking?"
"Pretty much. I'm a business man, Sydney. I have to be professional at all times. In the beginning, people wouldn't even take me seriously because of my age."
Sydney nodded. "I know. I get the same thing. Plus I'm a woman."
"We need to tackle the descrimination issues, don't we?"
"Another night. Why are you doing this for me, Andrew?"
"Eh..." He didn't have to answer because the food arrived.
Sydney drug him out to the group of people on the dance floor. A fast song was playing. Sydney threw her hands in the air and started to shake around. Sark joined in, his hands found their way to her waist. The song switched a slower song. Sydney recognized it. "This is 'Pretty Girl'."
"Indeed."
Sydney started to sing along under breath, but it was coming. The part she felt fit the two of them. She stared into his eyes and Sark started to lean down to her. Sydney put her head on his shoulder.
"Her killer instinct tells her to, be aware of evil men." She sang into his ear.
Sark whispered, huskily, "Am I an evil man, Sydney?"
"Yes." She replied, matter of factly.
"Are you listening to your instincts?"
"No."
His mouth descended on hers and they were kissing. Passionately. The entire world seemed to fall away. All that mattered was that their mouths were melded together. Sydney finally pulled away breathlessly. Sark smiled at her and cupped her cheeks in his hands.
"What are we doing, Andrew?"
"I believe it's called making out."
Sydney chuckled. "You know what I mean."
"Honestly, I don't really know."
Sydney accepted that. She brushed her fingers slightly over his mouth.
"Let's get out of here."
"All right."
He took her hand and they headed to the hotel.
"Vaughn." He answered, worriedly.
"Hey." Sydney said as she pulled off her pants and replaced them with pajama bottoms. She started to unhook her watch.
"Where have you been, Sydney? I've been calling you all night."
"I was out."
"On a mission? You're dad said they're trying to find the key right now."
"They are."
"So you were out..."
"Clubbing, Daddy."
Vaughn sighed.
"Alone and while you were on a mission?"
"No. And yeah, except I wasn't supposed to be working while I was out."
"Who were you with?"
"Sark."
"Sydney!"
"He offered. We were both bored, okay?"
She felt fingers touch her neck softly and unclasp the necklace she was wearing. They she felt his lips running its way down her neck to her collarbone. She gasped softly.
"Are you all right, Sydney?"
"Yeah." She offered shakily. Sark was now affectively nibbling on one of her earlobes. She swatted at him, but found that it didn't do any good. His hands were traveling down her back, making her go insane.
"Vaughn..."
"Yeah?"
"What is it that you needed?"
Sark lowered his lips to the hollow of her neck and then sucked on her shoulder.
"I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
She managed to supress a groan.
"I'm great, Vaughn. I'll talk to you when I get back."
Sydney hung up the phone before Vaughn had a chance to say anything else. She groaned as Sarks lips moved some more.
"You were not being helpful."
"But you still loved it, didn't you?"
Sydney sighed as she placed her hands in his hair. He pushed her against the bathroom counter. They began to kiss, battling for control. Both moaned happily as they continued.
Sark woke up to the annoying ring of his cell phone. He carefully stood up and heard Sydney mumble, "Don't answer it."
"It's probably Sloane, Sweetheart."
"Don't care."
Sark laughed.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Sark, the key is in room 105."
"Thanks."
Sark shook Sydney gently.
"Up. We have to get ourselves that key."
"Nu uh."
"Yes."
"Sleepy."
"Sydney!"
"Andrew!"
He pulled the blanket off of her.
"COLD!"
"Have we reverted back to Neandrathal conversations?"
Sydney glared at him as she gathered her clothes to get dressed.
They strolled down the mansion's hall and stopped in front of room 105. She pulled off her necklace that Marshall had designed. She hooked the necklace into the lock and turned it sharply. The door opened and they slid inside.
"Okay. It's in a blue box."
They started to rifle through Poliatez's things.
"Found it!"
Sydney slipped it in her bag. They hurried down the hall, but ran into Estevan.
"This is a private wing."
Sydney did her best to look confused.
"It is? I just wanted to explore the hotel! I am so sorry! We're sorry, aren't we, honey?"
"Yes, Sweetheart. My apologies, Sir."
"Don't come this way again."
"Oh, we won't!" Sydney promised and the couple rushed away.
Chapter Two
Sark opened the car door for her. Neither wanted to say anything about the almost kiss or what would have happened if Vaughn had interrupted. They entered the SD-6 office together, Sark's hand unconciously on the small of her back.
"Miss Bristow!" Marshall called out. "You got here really fast!"
"What do you mean?"
"Mr. Sloane just called another meeting."
Sydney sighed. Another mission. She had just gotten back from one today. They entered the conference room and found Jack and Sloane already waiting.
"How nice of Sleeping Beauty to grace us with her presence."
Sydney glared up at Sark who shrugged innocently. Sydney sat down and Sark followed suit.
"The statue you stole needs a key to open it. The key is here."
He pulled up a picture of a mansion.
"It's actually a hotel owned by this man."
"Estevan Poliatez." Sark supplied.
"Correct, Mr. Sark. He owns the mansion in San Jose."
"We're going to an island." Sydney said.
"As a honeymooning couple."
"Who is a honeymooning couple?"
"You and Mr. Sark."
Sydney shook her head. Going as a honeymooning couple would not make the kissing feelings go away.
"Oh, calm down, Sweetheart. We both know how to pretend."
"Sweetheart." Sydney set her gaze on him, shooting deadly glares.
"You're my new wife. Terms of endearment seem appropriate."
Sydney sighed loudly.
"You leave tonight."
She nodded.
"Right now. We've already prepared island clothes and your aliases for you. Dismissed."
Marshall pulled Sydney into his office and explained the tech to her. Then, she called Francie to tell her she wasn't coming home.
"Hey, Francie. I have another trip. Yeah. I know I just got back, but I'm going to an island, so it won't be too bad. Sark is going with me. What?! Francie! Sark is not beating me up. Will told you all about it, huh? Oh, Good Lord, Mr. Sark is not abusing me."
Sydney heard Sark chuckling behind her. She swatted at him until he stopped.
"No, I did not get that bruise from him. I dropped a book on my head. Yes, I promise. That's the truth, Fran. Good bye."
"I'm abusive?"
"Will told her all about it."
She joined in his laughter.
"Come on. We've got a plane to catch."
"Commercial flights disgust me." Sark commented as they left the Credit Dauphine building.
"Oh, darling, come along! We have to go check in!" Sark called after Sydney, in his usual British accent.
"I'm coming, Hugglebear. I just absolutely cannot get over this place!" Sydney replied, in a disty drawl. Sark pulled her to him and they entered the lobby, ignoring the stares they both received.
"Hello, Jonathan Aksander. Mr. and Mrs. Aksander."
Sydney wiggled her ring finger.
"Newly Mrs. This place is absolutely gorgeous."
"I totally agree with my wife. We should have a reservation."
The concierge smiled politely.
"The honeymoon suite."
Sydney giggled. She stared into Sark's eyes and could see the amusement sparkling in them. He kissed her nose affectionately. Real affection. Sydney smiled brightly. The way they could work together like that was amazing. They hadn't practiced any dialogue or anything. They just went with it and the other could always pick up the slack. The concierge handed over the key.
"Enjoy your stay."
"Oh, we will." Sark took her hand and she hung onto his arm. He punched the elevator button and they made their way to the suite.
"Wow. It really is beautiful. I love islands."
"Don't you mean it is absolutely gorgeous?" Sark imitated.
"Why, yes, Darling." Sydney mocking his own voice. They smiled at each, the usual angry tension gone.
"I'll call Sloane and find out where the key is hidden."
"Okay."
Sark dialed his cell phone.
"Mr. Sloane. We're here."
"Ah, Mr. Sark. We haven't been able to locate which room the key is in. We'll know by tomorrow, but that means you'll actually have to stay for a night."
"You get to tell Sydney about this."
"Just tell her the country needs her. She'll buy into that."
Sark shook his head, hating to hear Sloane say that.
"Contact us as soon as you know."
"Good bye, Mr. Sark."
Sark turned and plastered a charming smile on his face.
"So, how do you feel about sleeping overnight in this absolutely gorgeous place?"
"What?!"
"They aren't sure where the key is, so we have to stay here until they find out."
"Great." Sydney put her head in her hands.
"You want to go out tonight?"
"Excuse me?"
"You've been working hard and so have I. We're stuck on a beautiful island for the night. Who wants to sit around in the hotel room?"
Sydney tilted her head.
"Are you asking me out, Mr. Sark?"
"No. Just offering to keep you entertained."
"Okay, okay. Give me an hour."
Sydney slipped into the bathroom to get ready.
Sydney emerged from the bathroom 45 minutes later. Sark couldn't stop himself from scanning over her. She was wearing a silver halter top, yet it was fairly modest, and black pants. Her hair was in curls and her make up light, with red lip gloss, making her lips look even more kissable. He had changed, also, wearing jeans and a button shirt, designer, of course. He held out his arm and Sydney cautiously took it. They sat down at the hotel restaurant for the first stop of the evening. "Tell me about you, Sark." Sydney requested, quietly. She had being dying to know anything she could about him. He was so secretive, so mysterious, she had to know.
"What do you want to know?"
"Your real name and age to start with."
"I'm 27. My name is Andrew."
"Wow. That was easy."
He smiled. "I don't have to be so secretive right now. We aren't even working at the moment. Besides, I sincerely doubt that you're going to go tell everybody about me."
She smiled briefly. Her cell phone rang. It was her CIA issued phone. She shook her head in denial and groaned.
"Don't answer it. Call him back when we're done."
"Who?"
"Mr. Vaughn."
Sydney shrugged non commitedly. He always knew. But she didn't answer it. Sark sipped his Petreuse and studied the girl before him. He loved her. She was his equal. He was usually so much more intelligent than everyone, but not Sydney Bristow. She was lovely and brilliant.
"Do you want to go to a club after this?"
"I'm trying to picture you in a club."
Sark smirked.
"I do act like I'm my age sometimes."
"When no one is looking?"
"Pretty much. I'm a business man, Sydney. I have to be professional at all times. In the beginning, people wouldn't even take me seriously because of my age."
Sydney nodded. "I know. I get the same thing. Plus I'm a woman."
"We need to tackle the descrimination issues, don't we?"
"Another night. Why are you doing this for me, Andrew?"
"Eh..." He didn't have to answer because the food arrived.
Sydney drug him out to the group of people on the dance floor. A fast song was playing. Sydney threw her hands in the air and started to shake around. Sark joined in, his hands found their way to her waist. The song switched a slower song. Sydney recognized it. "This is 'Pretty Girl'."
"Indeed."
Sydney started to sing along under breath, but it was coming. The part she felt fit the two of them. She stared into his eyes and Sark started to lean down to her. Sydney put her head on his shoulder.
"Her killer instinct tells her to, be aware of evil men." She sang into his ear.
Sark whispered, huskily, "Am I an evil man, Sydney?"
"Yes." She replied, matter of factly.
"Are you listening to your instincts?"
"No."
His mouth descended on hers and they were kissing. Passionately. The entire world seemed to fall away. All that mattered was that their mouths were melded together. Sydney finally pulled away breathlessly. Sark smiled at her and cupped her cheeks in his hands.
"What are we doing, Andrew?"
"I believe it's called making out."
Sydney chuckled. "You know what I mean."
"Honestly, I don't really know."
Sydney accepted that. She brushed her fingers slightly over his mouth.
"Let's get out of here."
"All right."
He took her hand and they headed to the hotel.
"Vaughn." He answered, worriedly.
"Hey." Sydney said as she pulled off her pants and replaced them with pajama bottoms. She started to unhook her watch.
"Where have you been, Sydney? I've been calling you all night."
"I was out."
"On a mission? You're dad said they're trying to find the key right now."
"They are."
"So you were out..."
"Clubbing, Daddy."
Vaughn sighed.
"Alone and while you were on a mission?"
"No. And yeah, except I wasn't supposed to be working while I was out."
"Who were you with?"
"Sark."
"Sydney!"
"He offered. We were both bored, okay?"
She felt fingers touch her neck softly and unclasp the necklace she was wearing. They she felt his lips running its way down her neck to her collarbone. She gasped softly.
"Are you all right, Sydney?"
"Yeah." She offered shakily. Sark was now affectively nibbling on one of her earlobes. She swatted at him, but found that it didn't do any good. His hands were traveling down her back, making her go insane.
"Vaughn..."
"Yeah?"
"What is it that you needed?"
Sark lowered his lips to the hollow of her neck and then sucked on her shoulder.
"I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
She managed to supress a groan.
"I'm great, Vaughn. I'll talk to you when I get back."
Sydney hung up the phone before Vaughn had a chance to say anything else. She groaned as Sarks lips moved some more.
"You were not being helpful."
"But you still loved it, didn't you?"
Sydney sighed as she placed her hands in his hair. He pushed her against the bathroom counter. They began to kiss, battling for control. Both moaned happily as they continued.
Sark woke up to the annoying ring of his cell phone. He carefully stood up and heard Sydney mumble, "Don't answer it."
"It's probably Sloane, Sweetheart."
"Don't care."
Sark laughed.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Sark, the key is in room 105."
"Thanks."
Sark shook Sydney gently.
"Up. We have to get ourselves that key."
"Nu uh."
"Yes."
"Sleepy."
"Sydney!"
"Andrew!"
He pulled the blanket off of her.
"COLD!"
"Have we reverted back to Neandrathal conversations?"
Sydney glared at him as she gathered her clothes to get dressed.
They strolled down the mansion's hall and stopped in front of room 105. She pulled off her necklace that Marshall had designed. She hooked the necklace into the lock and turned it sharply. The door opened and they slid inside.
"Okay. It's in a blue box."
They started to rifle through Poliatez's things.
"Found it!"
Sydney slipped it in her bag. They hurried down the hall, but ran into Estevan.
"This is a private wing."
Sydney did her best to look confused.
"It is? I just wanted to explore the hotel! I am so sorry! We're sorry, aren't we, honey?"
"Yes, Sweetheart. My apologies, Sir."
"Don't come this way again."
"Oh, we won't!" Sydney promised and the couple rushed away.