Chapter 13 -

It was all a bad dream.

The phrase was stuck, looping in her head. She wanted so badly to believe that it was the truth, believe she wasn't really thousands of miles away from home, without any mode of transportation and with barely enough Crowns to pay for a room. More than anything wanting to believe one of the most important people in her life hadn't been shot.

As Sydney glanced down at her frozen, dirt caked hands, she's reminded of the reality of her situation… This was not a dream.

Although it was near the modern part of city, the Vila Garni wasn't near as lavish as some of the hotels she had gawked at earlier that day. From the outside it was very plain – its façade comprised solely of evenly spaced rows of windows covering the dingy gray two-story building. It looked just like an inexpensive apartment complex. However, the aspects that were attractive were the location, the problem of her sprained ankle prevented her from walking a long distance, and the price, just within their combined budget. Both of them were aware that any non-secured contact with SD-6 could be detrimental, given the sensitivity of their situation.

Without giving it a second thought, she agreed when Sark suggested, less than ten minutes ago, that he go inside to rent the room. Truly, she didn't have the energy to argue, not that she would have. She knew renting a room to a soiled man this time of night was more feasible than renting one to an equally filthy woman, who was walking with a limp. He could at least blame his appearance on manual labor, if need be.

As Sydney peeked around from behind the building, she was relieved at the sight of Sark, emerging from inside the hotel. Her immobility in the freezing cold, for the past ten minutes or so, caused her to cringe when she placed pressure on her swelling appendage. She recognized the need to elevate it soon or tomorrow would be hard to bear.

"There's no customary way you can get in there without being seen." He must have noticed her pain, since she could hear the concern in his voice.

"Where's the room?"

Sark glanced up, "Right above you, the top floor." Sark looked to his right, at the tree conveniently situated close to the window of the room.

"I can do it," Sydney replied, reading his mind. Sark softly smiled at her before turning around to go back to the entrance, reassuring her that things are fine, at least for the moment.

Knowing it was going to take a lot out of her, Sydney began to climb the tree. Every time she placed any pressure on her injured ankle, she stifled a cry. Being shot in the shoulder was extreme, the metal ripping through flesh burned and ached, but to lose full strength of a regularly utilized body part was more of a hindrance. If it weren't for the strength she had in her arms, it would almost be an impossible task.

When Sydney reached the branch that was located near the window Sark referred to, she slid her way over, and then waited for him to assist with the rest. Not long after, the room light was turned on, and she saw a shadowy figure through the curtains, standing before the window. Within seconds, Sark opened it, extending a hand.

Once she was inside, he wrapped his arm around her waist, servicing as her crutch. Although her ankle throbbed, and the jolting pain that ran up her leg each time she hopped should have been consuming her, Sydney found it was his nearness that was intoxicating. Normally she was not the type of person that needed to be coddled, but she was willing to make an exception this time.

After sitting her on the bed, Sark walked to the small refrigerator to check for ice. "You might want to use those pillows…" he broke his sentence as he saw her already stacking the pillows under her leg.

His comment was genuine. Knowing it, Sydney smiled, showing him that she appreciated his concern. Sark's cheeks flushed slightly. It was the first time she had seen him somewhat embarrassed, even if it was just a small amount. This kind of behavior was not his first nature, unlikely even his second, and he could be considering it a compromise to his reputation.

He walked back to where she was located, bringing a bag of ice. "Here." He gently placed it on the obvious lump that had formed. "Did you need anything else? I think they had some warm beverages downstairs."

"No, not right now at least." Sydney stared at his hands, which were still holding the ice bag on her ankle. "Are you going to try and get a hold of Hinkey?"

Sark almost seemed to have forgotten about what happened earlier. "Right." He stood, removing his hands from her. "I'll be back, soon." Sark left her to nurse her wound.

On the outside, the quarters appeared to be grimy. Inside, to her surprise, was a different story. The room was small, but the simplicity of the design, turned it to quaint. Wood paneling on the ceiling enhanced even the standard white walls, accented by an Asian flat rug. True, the wall was an odd place to hang a rug, but for some reason, it worked. The double bed had a fresh appearance, the light blue comforter thrown over it, looked brand new. Part of her wanted to just curl up and go to sleep, escape the now, but with Sark leaving fifteen minutes ago to call Hinkey, she couldn't. Well, at least until he came back with the news, and most importantly, she washed this dirt off of her.

Tired of waiting, Sydney decided to start a shower. After turning the knob to warm up the water, she immediately stood in front of the mirror, the first time she had done so tonight. Her appearance was appalling, her hair strewn all over her blackened face, but fitting after what she'd been through.

Seeing the steam as it rose behind her through the mirror, she removed her dusty clothing, and stepped in. She didn't stop the colossal sigh of relief that escaped her mouth. The hotness of the steady stream of water was absolutely refreshing and relaxing.

Sydney took her time, moving around the small shower to ensure her entire body was massaged. Using a hefty amount of soap, she rubbed her entire body twice, washing the dirt away from her skin. For that moment, she forgot about it all, the failure, her ankle, and the uncertainty of her partner.

That was, until she heard the sound of the bathroom door opening. The texture of the glass shower prevented her from seeing details, but the black garb was telling as to who it was.

"I thought you'd want to know that Dixon is going to be alright." Sark informed her. "The shot went through his shoulder, causing no major damage."

Sydney smiled, relieved to have an answer to the question that had been ailing her, "That's good. Thanks for letting me know." She allowed the water to spray over her face, softly scrubbing off any remaining dirt with her hands. When she was done, she noticed Sark still standing in the bathroom. "Was there something else?" Sydney asked. Her voice cracked slightly, as she saw him taking off his shirt through the blurred shower. 

"You've been in there for over twenty minutes," Sark said nonchalantly.

Sydney looked down at her fingers, which had more than wrinkled from the saturation. It didn't seem to her like twenty minutes. "Oh, I'm sorry."

After turning off the water, she grabbed the white cotton towel she threw over the shower before she stepped in, and quickly dried herself off. The entire time, she kept her eye on Sark, who had now taken off his pants. Safely behind a closed door, she blushed. She couldn't see anything detailed, but she was well aware of what's waiting out there.

With the towel now secured around her, Sydney stepped out. By then, Sark was in front of the mirror, wiping some of the dirt off of his face. Only taking a fleeting glance, Sydney blushed again. Even though it was brief, she caught sight of his broad, muscular shoulders, his tone lower back leading down to the bareness of his… Sydney stopped mid thought when Sark turned around to walk to the shower. Doing her best to casually avert her gaze from his naked body, Sydney attempted to limp her way past him.

She didn't take more than two steps before she felt Sark's hand around her wrist. After momentarily looking down at it, she turned her attention up. Her nervousness was plainly revealed in her wide eyes. She felt her heart pounding so fiercely, any moment it could leap from her chest. Surprisingly, some of the anxiety subsided, when he placed his other hand just above her hip. The look in his eyes was one of warmth, but they still embodied that same menacing quality she was familiar with.

While looking into them, she forgot about his nudity. She also barely noticed the streaks of dirt on his face that he had missed in his washing. All she could do was try to control the exhilaration her body experienced at the touch of his hand, as he placed it on her collarbone. Despite her best efforts, her knees almost went weak at his touch. She watched amusement flash across Sark's face, while he slid his hand down her shoulder.

"It appears that I didn't get my hands entirely clean," he teased.

Sydney felt the dirt when it was rubbed on her body, but she didn't care. She barely even heard him speak to her, due to the cloud of desire taking over her head. Completely ignoring him, and the dirt, Sydney acted on the urge by smoothing her hands up his chest. Once they reached the back of his head, she initiated their first connection.

The complexity of her varying feelings – ranging from yearning to bring his body next to hers, to remnants of relief in the discovery that Dixon was indeed okay – brought forth a tinge of roughness as her lips connected with his. The rigorous action didn't deter Sark, it only seemed to entice him to explore the depths of her further. His hands, still lingering around her collarbone, inched up to cover her delicate neck. Matching her ferocity, he applied pressure around it, and as his dirty hands traced over her dewy skin, they left a trail of black.

Sydney tugged the hair on the back of his head, her lips consuming his. The delicate way their tongues brushed against each other was sending her deeper and deeper into a trance. Each stroke he took in her mouth was thrilling, causing her body to quiver. She remembered feeling this way when she was at his house, every inch of her aching to be with him. No momentum had been lost since then, for they seemed to be beginning right where they left off.

Sark removed his hands from her neck and slowly slid them down to the area where her towel was secured. With one hand, he freed the constraint, exposing her beauty beneath. Her nakedness would normally be embarrassing and a bit breezy, but the touch of his hand, combined with his rough lips, was generating ample amounts of heat.

In one swift motion, Sark wrapped his arms around her waist, and then easily lifted her from the ground. Sydney hung onto him by throwing her arms around his neck. He walked the short distance to the shower, and then fumbled momentarily to turn it on. The stream of water that beat titillating against her body just minutes before was more so now, that he's with her.

In an effort to wash them both, Sark set her down again, in the direct path of the showerhead. She could feel the muddy water flow over her body, after it first cleansed his. Sark grabbed for the soap, and massaged it into suds all over her back. The hardness of the bar against her skin wasn't painful, but delighting, enhancing the tingle that had been mustering in her stomach. Sydney returned the favor, by taking it from him, slowly stroking his back. Purposely she dropped the soap, and finished the rest of his upper body with her hands. Both of them were completely in the moment, craving more of each other's touch. But none of this softened the intensity of the kiss they were sharing, or cooled the fieriness building between them.

With most of the grime dispersed, Sark pushed her against the wall. He took his lips from hers, and she noticed a carnal gleam in his eyes when they made contact. It was only seen for a moment, for his mouth soon moved to her neck, where he probed her, savoring and sucking as he moved down to her chest. Sydney arched her neck, barely maintaining her composure during his exploration. Each kiss, or at times a light nibble, set her skin afire, and kept her breathing sporadic.

He ventured down to her breasts, selfishly cupping both, before placing her left between his lips. His mouth was ravenous for a taste of her, and he demonstrated that by seizing her nipple with his teeth, then softly biting the tip. Sydney did little to muffle the intense cry that escaped from her. His mouth was so warm as he expertly slid her breast in and out. Every time his tongue circled the tip, her body tensed, causing her nails to dig into first his head, and then his shoulders. After he had finished with her breast, he kissed his way back up to her neck. He fumbled again, this time while turning off the water.

They stood in silence, their faces only inches away from each other. Sydney's heart was still beating rapidly from their passionate exchange, and her body now, more than ever, was flushed with heat. Words had no meaning to her. Truthfully, even if she made her finest effort, nothing coherent would spring from her. His escalated breathing showed her that he was thinking the same.

With what sounded like a throaty growl, Sark bent down to wrap his arms around the back of her knees. Sydney allowed him to pick her up, and encased his waist with her legs. Noticeably softer now, Sydney kissed him, letting her tongue first circle his lips, as he carried her from the bathroom, consequently leaving a trail of water behind. 

When Sark reached the bed, he lowered to his knees, crawling to the head. After softly placing her there, he pulled the switch on the lamp. The curtain was still open, and the now cloudless sky gave him the light he needed to admire the exquisiteness of her nudity. He ran his hand up the curve of her hips, smoothing over her waist and then up to her rib cage. The lightness of his touch tickled, causing her to twitch.

As she looked into his eyes, she could see the glow of desire in them. She understood. Ever since their first dance in Buenos Aires, she had imagined this. She probably did even before that. Now that they were here, it felt surreal. But this wasn't a dream. Her second reminder of tonight's reality began when she slid her hands up his back, over his shoulders, and then to his face. A small trace of missed dirt was transferred from her hands, to his face.

Sydney smiled, her eyes filled with playful laughter. "You're dirty."

"I think that remains to be seen, Sydney." His look was serious, but his voice was smooth and sultry.

She flashed him a suggestive look, playing off his comment, until he kissed her upper chest and moved his lips slowly down her body. Her back arched automatically, and her eyes closed, when his lips reached just below her stomach. Again with the teasing, Sark moved his tongue along her bikini line. The wetness he left behind grew cold with exposure. Her hands were driven down to grab at his hair when she felt the tickle of his breath nearly inside her.

Just when she thought she couldn't take the suspense any longer, he swiftly parted her nether lips with his tongue, licking the entirety between them. Unable to control her movements or speech, her body convulsed, and a thundering moan was shot from her. It had been so long since she'd felt sexual pleasure from another, and she was craving much more.

Sark stopped with that one intrusion and moved to her inner thigh. He alternated licks and kisses until he had reached just under her bent knee. She watched his eyes switch to her face, wanting to see her reaction when he lined her inner thigh with his tongue, ending back up at the area he just left.

Sydney's eyes closed involuntarily, and her fingers clutched the blanket under her, as Sark re-entered the sensitive area. His tongue was more determined now than the first time, as it circled around her clitoris, sending shockwaves through her. The sweltering rush that consumed her body with each round was euphoric, and her need for him continued to increase.

Then he entered her, his tongue penetrating her soft tissue, delving into her augmenting wetness. Sydney let out a soft hum, captivated by him. To her further delight, he caressed the inside, creating additional moisture. When he was finished, he made his way back up her body, taking periodic nibbles of her. Her body was calling for him, screaming while it shivered from the ecstasy she was experiencing, with each bite he took of her skin.

Sark stopped. His face was just above hers. Gently, he moved a few stray hairs that were clinging to her mouth. He must recognize the madness that was in her eyes, for he took her hand down to his full erection. A gesture that divulged to her that he had the same passion surging through him.

To his surprise, Sydney didn't remove her hand from him. Instead, she tightened her grip and tugged at his swollen penis. She kept eye contact to mock him, wanting to test his reaction just as he had done to her. Her gratification came as he failed to keep his eyes from rolling into the back of his head. Just as he had learned, she understood having the upper hand had its advantages. Before she could revel in it, Sark's lips crushed hers, manhandling them. As she ran her thumb over his head, smearing the small amount of secretion, Sydney took one last jerk of him, causing him to quietly groan. The sound muffled by her mouth.

His lips continued to be harsh. At times his teeth knocked against hers or clamped down on her lip, causing injury she wouldn't feel until tomorrow. His tongue was equally ruthless, as it spread the taste of her inside. Sydney didn't mind, since it only seemed to intensify her intoxication. With one hand, he pulled the majority of her hair, arching her neck. Taking his lips from hers, he lowered them to her neck, and tried to calm down.

Any nervousness she felt from her lengthy abstinence was washed away by the thirst she had to finally be with him. Knowing now she was entirely ready for this, for Sark, she told him.

"I need you in me." Spoken just above a whisper, but real just the same.

Her words were enough to stop him as he was ravishing her neck. Pausing for a moment, he looked at her with a hint of adoration. Tenderly, he kissed her lips with no infiltration. His gaze still on her eyes, he slid himself near her entry. At first, he barely sunk the tip of his head into her, grazing the area his mouth skillfully worked earlier. He wanted to watch her, looking for a sign that contrary to what was just said, she wasn't really ready for this.

That sign didn't come. But when he slid it in again, she purposely grabbed his ass to push him in all the way. Sounding off in relief, they combined their voices in a single moan. Her tight entry was obviously pleasing to him.

"God… Sydney." Sark breathed near her ear, before reuniting with her lips.

This was what she wanted – all that she needed right now – the feel of him inside her. Starting off slow, he worked himself in and out of her. He savored the sensation of her gap, which fit him just right. The same could be said for her. She knew he was only taunting that day, when he told her that he would have been so good, but he was truthful. The way he moved in her was thrilling, and she felt it all the way down to her toes.

As the thrusts increased in speed, so did the sensitivity to the area he had filled. Her breathing was more than jagged now, as was his, nearing a pant. Their movements were equally irregular. Both of their bodies were sticking together, slapping from the sweat that had been generated between them. Sydney tried to time her hips to match his, and keep him digging deeper and deeper in her.

Nearing his end, Sark took his lips from hers and buried his head in her neck. He moved to her collarbone, gnawing on her skin, a poor attempt at suppressing any noise. Just as close to hers, Sydney gradually pulled harder on his hair, wanting to hear anything from him. Wanting to know he shared the same erotic feeling that had devoured her.

Then it came, or she did. She felt the orgasm building. Each time he grazed her walls, the tingle increased. Her breath was short in his ear, and she whimpered, telling him of her upcoming pleasure. The sound of her voice drove him to move faster and harder, wanting to feel the flex of her muscle as she released. He didn't have to wait long for her, within a minute he heard her gasp, along with her insides contracting over his engorged penis. The feeling was so intense that he was unable to keep from doing the same. Allowing another growl to escape from his lips, he spilled himself inside of her, leaving his pleasure to mix with hers.

And then there was stillness, not quiet -- the sound of heavy breathing, and hearts pounding filled the silence. When he came, his fulfilled body collapsed on top of her, and was now unable to move. Sydney didn't want him to. Having him on her, and inside her still was a comfort she wished to prolong. He twitched slightly, but only to kiss her shoulder one last time.