Chapter 9 -

Sitting at the four-person dining room table, Sydney picked through the last few noodles of her Lad Nar. She didn't think she was that hungry, until the container was put in front of her. Inconspicuously, she averted her gaze from the television he had turned on to "keep her entertained", to the breakfast bar, where Sark had been seated for the past thirty minutes.

On his face, she spotted the ultimate look of concentration. She could almost see it intensifying with each click of the keys on his laptop. To avoid embarrassment, she fought the giggle that had conjured in her throat. Although the work they did was serious, a look similar to the one she saw was most often observed at the office.

Caught off guard in mid stare, Sydney watched as a steadily typing Sark, looked up from the screen, meeting her eye. Trying her hardest not to choke on her noodle, she swallowed the last bit of her food. His eyebrows rose, silently asking her if she needed something. "That cut on your face," Was all that she could say.

He didn't stop typing, just looked back down at his screen. "Your boss has an eerie tendency to want to protect you, do you know that?"

When she first viewed the slightly swollen eye, her gut told her it was Sloane. The "meeting" he had with Sark earlier that day, was more than likely an interrogation. Calling into question his intentions with SD-6, maybe even his intentions with her.

"So what exactly did you tell him?"

He stopped typing, and then quietly sighed before starting. "You were under the assumption a meeting was orchestrated between the two of us and Agent Dixon, due to a security breech on our last mission. We were to turn in our passport information and all other documents we used while there. When you discovered it was a set-up, and that I only wanted to give you loving regards from your mother, you became upset and left."

"Oh." The only word she could let out. She was sorry that he had to be slapped around, just to keep her out of the red. But the words 'I'm sorry' sounded so meaningless, trivial in comparison to the deed. Breaking their stare, Sydney glanced at the clock, which read just past nine. "How long have you known I was CIA?"

"Is that really pertinent information?" His reply was straightforward, with no hint of condescension or anger. "I've all but sworn myself to secrecy. That should be enough to put you at ease."

Sydney didn't respond, almost too much information had already been exchanged between them today. Another time maybe – she secretly hoped. Finished with her meal, she discarded the container and then made her way into the living room. On the table sat the bottle of wine he opened earlier. Taking her same glass, she poured herself another.

To her surprise, Sark stopped typing again. "If you want, I have a few movies you can watch instead of the telly. The compartment under the box, if you're interested."

She knelt on the floor in front of the screen, browsing through his movies selection. Not too questionable of taste, having the normal Tarantino flick, a few of the Evil Dead's, Donnie Darko, Hellraiser…

"The Sleepaway Camp series?" Sydney did her best not to laugh.

For the first time since New Year's Eve, she watched his face become light as he cracked a half smile. Completely turned around to face her, he stood. "Don't tell me you've never seen Sleepaway Camp."

"This is probably the first time I've ever admitted it aloud, but yeah." Sydney showed off her famous wide smile. "They're the reason I didn't go to summer camp or start smoking."

"These things will kill you, you know," Sark quoted, acknowledging her statement.

Sydney laughed at his recount, "Exactly. I can't believe you have these."

"Feel free to reminisce with another view."

She had casual friendships with men. Hell, Will was one of her best friends. In those relationships, moments like these were frequent. Down time spent watching movies, discussing music, all very innocently and strictly platonic. What struck her as odd, being here with Sark, was that it didn't feel that way at all.

With all she knew about him and vice versa. With everything they had been through over the past month. With the way he was staring at her, that look of endearment. His eyes showing a hint of warmth – it was different, completely different. There was that spark, the one you definitely didn't feel when in the company of a friend.

Trying not to dwell on it too long, Sydney turned her attention back to the DVD player. She smiled as she slid in the second movie of the series.

Dreams were funny things sometimes. Most of hers were action packed, left over memories from her ops. There had been times where she had even found herself on the floor of her room, probably due to a struggle. It was refreshing when one came along that didn't leave her bruised, come the next day.

Sitting alone against a tree, Sydney found warmth from a fully blazing campfire. Still wearing the black dress pants and fitted white button down shirt she wore to work, she wrapped her arms around her knees, pulling them to her chest. 

Considering the campy horror movie she almost made it through, she felt relatively safe here. She was only mildly frightened when she felt the hand of an unknown person as it slid over her shoulder, then they whispered in her ear from behind. "You aren't afraid of me?"

Her eyes darted open, trying to adjust to the darkness. Temporarily forgetting where she was, Sydney took in her surroundings. Didn't take her long to remember. With the television still on, playing some obnoxious infomercial, and the feel of the leather couch that squeaked as she moved slightly, it all came back to her. The arm from her dream, she found wrapped around her, and it was attached to the tree that she had been leaning against, Sark.

With that realization, she looked around the room again for the second time. On the table in front of her, she found an alarm clock that read 2:30 A.M.

"You talk in your sleep," Sark spoke, just above a whisper.

Startled by the sound of his voice, Sydney sat up. "Sometimes." It wasn't the first time she had been told that. "What did I say?" Hoping it wasn't anything too embarrassing.

"If I'm not mistaken, it was Kumbaya."

Realizing her ponytail had to have been destroyed from sleep, she let her hair down. "Oh God," Sydney was truly mortified. Now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she decided to look at him. Leaning in what appeared to be an uncomfortable position, she was immediately apologetic. "I'm sorry, I must have accidentally leaned against you when I fell asleep."

When Sark sat up, Sydney noticed the back of his hair tousled, causing it to stick out slightly. Remembering her own, she ran her fingers through it and tried her best to straighten any strays.

She watched a coy smile appear on his face before he spoke, "Your hair looks fine, Sydney." Her hands froze at the sound of his voice.

Damn his accent, and that smile. Damn his eyes, always lingering long enough – causing that uneasy feeling.

Ignoring him, she started to pull her hair back into the rubber band. Before she made it, her hand was stopped by Sark's. Gently he grabbed her wrist, causing her to let go of the gathered hair. In the moonlight that shined through the partially ajar blinds, she could see the pools of blue as his eyes studied her reaction to his touch. Silently staring at each other, Sark made his move by sliding his hand behind her neck, inserting a hand in her hair. Reactively, her eyes closed while his thumb caressed her cheek.

When she reopened them, she was welcomed with the feel of Sark's lips softly brushing against hers. Returning the touch, she ran her hand up his chest, over his bare shoulder, and finally rested it behind his head. Kissing him back with matched tenderness, Sydney parted her lips, giving him consent to enter. Lightly, his tongue stroked hers, and as they intertwined, the kiss maintained the rhythm and tenderness that was initially present.

After what seemed like a few minutes, Sydney slowly fell back on the couch while pulling Sark on top of her. Attempting to adjust their bodies so they kept on the couch, Sark securely wrapped his arm around Sydney's waist.

Resting his body just above hers, Sydney felt his breath, and her own, growing uneven; triggered by the emergent intensity between them. Losing the synchronicity surrounding them previously, Sark's movements became more physical, with a hint of roughness. Playfully, he bit her lip then moved his mouth down to her neck. Taking multiple soft nibbles on her exposed skin, Sydney bit that same lip, suppressing the moan that had worked its way up.

As she dug her fingers into the soft curls on the back of his head, Sark began to go further by unbuttoning her blouse. With each button that escaped, he brought his lips down to the flesh that was revealed, kissing it softly. First her upper chest, then between her breasts and finally down to her stomach. When he was finished, he took the same route back up to the suppleness of her lips, ravishing them again.

Craving the feel of his skin against hers, Sydney pulled his tank up, stopping just under his shoulders. Sark removed the obstruction, and then discarded it somewhere on the floor, only losing contact with her for a brief moment.

As he slid her blouse and bra-strap from her right side, his hand found its way to cup her partially covered breast. Stopping their kiss a second time, Sark traced more kisses down to her chest, while moving away the material that held her in. When he reached the bareness he just revealed, Sark softly placed his mouth around her firm nipple.

Her hands still placed in his hair, Sydney was unable to contain the moan she worked so hard to keep. Stale, but still powerful, she allowed it to escape. The sound gave Sark the enticement he needed.

After a brief nip at her breast, he went back to kissing her lips. Wanting her to feel his near full arousal, he began grinding his hips into her pelvis. At first feel of his manhood against her equally stimulated area, Sydney felt her desire for him escalate. She wanted him. There was no denying it now.

He began rubbing harder, his swollen dick almost penetrating through her dress pants. Sydney broke the kiss as she almost lost control. Losing her breath almost completely, close to panting, she wrapped her lips around his ear, licking the outer area. Her action brought a similar moan from Sark, as he was now kissing her neck.

Suddenly with no warning, they were interrupted by the annoying screech of the alarm clock. Both of them startled, they looked at it. Only ten minutes until the guard switch.

"I hate those fucking things." Sark growls, still out of breath.

He looked down at Sydney, something inside of him, kept him from talking. Instead he brought his lips to hers one last time, kissing her twice. Moving from the couch, he grabbed his stray tank, putting it back on.

Standing in front of her, she could still see his hardness through the thin material of his running pants. No time to spare, Sydney re-buttoned her blouse and gathered the few items she brought, so she could leave.