Chapter 3 –

She had no idea why, but she halfway expected Sark to be waiting for her downstairs after work. Maybe it was some wishful thinking clouding her or maybe it seemed like something he'd do. Still she wasn't sure why she felt it, but she was prepared for any surprise this time.

It would be a brave move, since his every step was pretty much being scrutinized by SD-6 and he was surely tailed 24/7. But there were ways around it, she knew about them. She was disappointed that he wasn't there, she had so much that she wanted to say – she figured it would just have to wait.

No matter. It was almost the New Year, just past eleven thirty to be exact, and Sydney came to the conclusion Francie was her new role model. A party of close to one hundred friends, family and business associates, was well underway. Everything perfect, the food and music were plentiful and continuous, people seemed to be having a great time – she pulled it off famously. This year was definitely better than last. At least there was some light at the end of that proverbial tunnel.

"So are you going to stand here all night?" Will came up behind Sydney, as she stood alone by the bar. "You didn't dress up just to be wallpaper did you Syd?"

Sydney smiled. She did pick up a few things in Buenos Aires. Tonight she chose a knee length, red skirt with medium sized tan flowers - very similar to the dress she wore her third night with Sark, and a strappy red tank. What made it better was the good hair day. Her hair was partially swept up in a twist. Oddly, wigs were usually so much easier to work with than her own.

Finished with her glass of champagne, the fifth tonight, she placed it on the counter. "Is that your way of asking me to dance, Will?" Sydney replied a bit flirtatiously.

"Come on," Will took her hand to guide her to the converted dance floor, as the medium tempo jazz played. He was drunk, she was close to his equal – neither cared if the way they moved was hideous. They were having a good time.

A few songs later, Sydney felt a hand on her shoulder. Turning her head, she faced Francie, who yelled over the music, "Hey Syd, the phone's for you – at the bar." Sydney pushed Francie to take her place as she moved through the small crowd to answer the call. 

Partially out of breath, she grabbed the phone. "Hello."

"I'm out back."

Her heart jumped at the sound of the familiar male voice that came through the line. Didn't she just talk about being prepared for any surprise? This surprise obviously not, due to the immediate rush that had all but consumed her.  She heard the click of the disconnected call, but was almost too nervous to hang up.

Too many thoughts spinning – Was he followed? What if someone at the party saw her?

The temptation was too strong and she was drunk enough to give in. Before walking off, she took one last look at the floor, watching Will and Francie as they lived it up to the disco that was now blaring over the speakers.

After finding her matching thin tan sweater, she made her way through the empty kitchen and out the back door. At first glance, she believed the barely lit alley to be empty, until she heard the scuff of a shoe against the pavement, just to her right. Her eyes were still adjusting to the darkness, which caused her to squint as she tried to catch a first glance.

"You seem to be having a good time," Sark noted.

Sydney started to see more than his shadow as he was leaning against the wall, one knee bent – foot placed on the structure. Very James Deanish, the thought caused her to almost giggle. "How long have you been here?"

"Not long, just enough time to watch you with Mr. Tippin," he replied.

There was no jealousy in his voice, some men could be threatened by a woman having a man as a close friend, she still avoided the subject, "And you're sure no one followed you here." Sydney stood beside him, also leaning against the wall.

Sark chuckled, "No guarantees, but I've been doing this for a long time and haven't fucked up yet so…"

Sydney smiled, knowing he couldn't see it in the dimness. "Right." All the questions she had to ask him were nowhere to be found, all she could think about was how he smelled. A faint scent of cologne still present, but that wasn't what she missed. It was the smell of him as a man. She became familiar with it in their closeness, and longed to become reacquainted. "So no late night trips for the New Year?"

"Normally if I had the time, I would be with close friends. But with this constant tailing, I've decided to not knowingly put them in any danger," he explained. "You're lucky, you know. You have a relatively normal life considering."

Sydney laughed at his naïve comment. "If you had known me last year, you wouldn't have made that comment. Everyone makes sacrifices when you're in my," she corrected herself, "our line of work."

"I guess," Sark answered. From inside, they could hear the music had ceased, and a loud commotion had replaced the noise. "It must be close to midnight," Sark guessed.

Sydney stood from her leaning position, assuming he needed to go. "Pretty close I'm guessing." Sark followed her lead, also standing.

Standing in silence, Sydney faced Sark finally able to get a good view. Completely causal in a black shirt with black leather jacket and denim, her excitement escalated as he lifted his hand to her neck, "It looks lovely on you." He placed the three stones on his fingers.

Sydney smiled as she caught his eye, even in the darkness she could sense the blueness of them, as his gaze now was much softer than earlier that day. "It caught my eye when we were in the jewelry store," her throat tightened with each word.

"I know," Sark lightly dropped the necklace and brought his hand to her face, brushing it with the back of his hand. Gently he traced his thumb over her lips, as he slowly brought his face down to hers. So different than their first non-newlywed couple, kiss in the hotel room, his lips barely touched hers at first. Then, as he slid his hand behind her head, entangling it in her hair, he deepened their connection by pulling her closer to him with his free hand. Just the same as the last kiss, Sydney found her knees becoming weak with each stroke of his tongue, which had finally entered her mouth.

Able to at least move her hands this time, she traced them up his chest, feeling the hardness of his body underneath his thin sweater. Finally she rested them behind his head, twisting his curls between her fingers. Faintly, she heard the countdown coming from inside, amongst other places around them.

Ten… nine… eight … seven… six… five… four… three… two… one…

Sark stopped the kiss and softly breathed, "Happy New Year Sydney." He placed a last small kiss on her lips and grabbed her hands as she removed them from his head. "I need to go."

Looking into his eyes, she didn't care. This was part of what she had been waiting for, anticipating a connection ever since she opened his gift on Christmas morning. She could forget about his past, his current agenda… for now. His lips were the attention she wanted from him and she got it.

As Auld Lang Syne was blown from everyone inside the restaurant, Sydney watched Sark as he walked down the alley, finally disappearing into the darkness.