Sydney walked out of the room feeling a bit confused, though it had
felt good to talk someone again. Other than Vaughn, she thought, smiling.
That was what confused her more than anything else. It had been simpler,
she thought, when she still knew Sark as your run-of-the-mill sociopath
instead of the complicated structure that he was. She needed to make a
decision about what she wanted in life. He had been right all along in the
beginning. They weren't that different from each other. In fact, if things
had turned out differently, they might have even been friends.
Carefully filing her highly *selective* report on what was said during interrogation, Sydney decided that she needed time to think. Making a quick change of clothing, she drove to the one place that helped her relax. The track.
Something about the rhythmic pounding of feet, and the eventual runner's high always seemed to put order and sense to her thoughts. When all she concentrated on was the movement of her feet on the track surface, all other worries seemed to sift into place, questions were answered without ever being asked aloud.
This was where she had gone after Will had been kidnapped, after Noah had died, after Francie and Sark-- After Danny. She remembered how she had had to handle her emotions after Danny had been murdered-not being able to talk to anyone, bottling up her feelings of guilt and betrayal. She had blamed Sloane-but moreover she had blamed herself for what had happened. Not many had known the whole story. It had been raining the day she had come out here-and after 4 hours straight of running, her whole body wet and numb with the cold, she hadn't been able to tell the difference between the raindrops on her face and the tears coursing down her cheeks. She never hid her emotions here.
It was here with the rhythmic pounding in her head that Sydney admitted to herself that Sark was becoming an attraction-to be handled with great care. She wasn't in love with him, she knew that much. Even if I had been, Syd thought, I don't completely lack integrity. She hadn't forgotten what Sark had to done to Will; how he had manipulated Francie. Memories of yesterday filled her head, when she had come home from Paris to find Francie crying on the couch.
Francie had looked up at her, tears filling her eyes.
"Where have you been? I have been freaking out . . ." she had said. Sydney had covered with a story about some emergency bank trip. But Sydney had been able to tell that that wasn't the real reason Francie was crying. Like always, Syd had known just what to do. She sat down and listened, as Francie drunkenly poured out the entire story, about "Chris" leaving a message on the machine, ending everything. Further into the conversation Francie had begun talking to Sydney again- really talking to Sydney, none of the usual fake smiles that they had been using lately. She told Syd about her frustration that she wasn't around anymore-"Not since the Bank . . ." And for the first time in a long time, Sydney listened. Really listened. And when she made an apology, it was an honest one. She had begun to realize that Sark may have been wrong about a few things-she wasn't using Francie anymore.
It felt good to have al least one relationship back to normal.
So No . . . she reaffirmed to herself . . . Sark intrigued her, sparked her curiosity, and (if she was being honest) tempted her, but she could never love him. She would never have anything close to a normal relationship with him. If Sydney was going to be in love, she was going to make sure it wasn't complicated. At least, not THAT complicated, she amended. There was another relationship forming in her life, that could grow to be just as complicated, if not more so.
The problem was, she realized, that she was falling in love with someone else- Vaughn. This complicated things even more.
______________________________________
"Basic Mission Overview, you'll be going to Moscow to retrieve a file containing codes to part of the K-directorate mainframe." Vaughn and Sydney were in the warehouse again, pretending to be professional, but Sydney kept catching the stolen looks, and the worry lines popping up on his head. Worrying for her.
"The catch is, you'll be taking your mother with you, as backup. This place I like a maze-we don't have enough intel to know how to get in and out of it easily, but Irina does. The thing that worries me is the your dad won't be there to supervise either, he's still doing some work for Sloane. It'll just be you and your mom there, Sydney . . . . Are you up for that?"
Sure she was. She had known about it a week ago, when Sark had informed her of it. Sydney smiled, taking Vaughn's hand and squeezing it. If she could just lean in and kiss him like she had done at the bar . . . but unfortunately, her inhibition had been lost once the alcohol wore off.
The plusses and minuses of drinking, she thought-
On one side, you have no qualms about kissing the love of your life, even though it could reap consequences such as getting shot and killed. On the other hand, it gives others an open opportunity to pick you up and cart you off to Paris while you are passed out.
Jesus, he's gorgeous, she thought . . . and he genuinely cares. With his slightly tousled hair, his soft eyelashes and his deep brown eyes, he seemed so soft. She might have been drunk, but she remembered how tender it had felt kissing him. Inadvertently, Sydney began leaning into him. Vaughn seemed to have the same idea. His head tilted slightly towards her, reaching to meet her halfway . . . .
Suddenly, they heard a door slam farther off. Weiss's voice filtered through the gray.
"Vaughn? Syd? Guys?"
Panic bells sounded in Syd's mind. That was too close. Pulling back and withdrawing her hand, she stood up hurriedly, smoothing out her skirt.
"Don't worry Vaughn, I'll be fine . . ." she said, not looking at him. How was she going to keep going like this?
Popping his head in, Weiss looked at the two of them strangely, but wisely didn't ask for an explanation. He wasn't born yesterday.
"Guys, Devlin just called an emergency meeting. Sark's escaped."
Carefully filing her highly *selective* report on what was said during interrogation, Sydney decided that she needed time to think. Making a quick change of clothing, she drove to the one place that helped her relax. The track.
Something about the rhythmic pounding of feet, and the eventual runner's high always seemed to put order and sense to her thoughts. When all she concentrated on was the movement of her feet on the track surface, all other worries seemed to sift into place, questions were answered without ever being asked aloud.
This was where she had gone after Will had been kidnapped, after Noah had died, after Francie and Sark-- After Danny. She remembered how she had had to handle her emotions after Danny had been murdered-not being able to talk to anyone, bottling up her feelings of guilt and betrayal. She had blamed Sloane-but moreover she had blamed herself for what had happened. Not many had known the whole story. It had been raining the day she had come out here-and after 4 hours straight of running, her whole body wet and numb with the cold, she hadn't been able to tell the difference between the raindrops on her face and the tears coursing down her cheeks. She never hid her emotions here.
It was here with the rhythmic pounding in her head that Sydney admitted to herself that Sark was becoming an attraction-to be handled with great care. She wasn't in love with him, she knew that much. Even if I had been, Syd thought, I don't completely lack integrity. She hadn't forgotten what Sark had to done to Will; how he had manipulated Francie. Memories of yesterday filled her head, when she had come home from Paris to find Francie crying on the couch.
Francie had looked up at her, tears filling her eyes.
"Where have you been? I have been freaking out . . ." she had said. Sydney had covered with a story about some emergency bank trip. But Sydney had been able to tell that that wasn't the real reason Francie was crying. Like always, Syd had known just what to do. She sat down and listened, as Francie drunkenly poured out the entire story, about "Chris" leaving a message on the machine, ending everything. Further into the conversation Francie had begun talking to Sydney again- really talking to Sydney, none of the usual fake smiles that they had been using lately. She told Syd about her frustration that she wasn't around anymore-"Not since the Bank . . ." And for the first time in a long time, Sydney listened. Really listened. And when she made an apology, it was an honest one. She had begun to realize that Sark may have been wrong about a few things-she wasn't using Francie anymore.
It felt good to have al least one relationship back to normal.
So No . . . she reaffirmed to herself . . . Sark intrigued her, sparked her curiosity, and (if she was being honest) tempted her, but she could never love him. She would never have anything close to a normal relationship with him. If Sydney was going to be in love, she was going to make sure it wasn't complicated. At least, not THAT complicated, she amended. There was another relationship forming in her life, that could grow to be just as complicated, if not more so.
The problem was, she realized, that she was falling in love with someone else- Vaughn. This complicated things even more.
______________________________________
"Basic Mission Overview, you'll be going to Moscow to retrieve a file containing codes to part of the K-directorate mainframe." Vaughn and Sydney were in the warehouse again, pretending to be professional, but Sydney kept catching the stolen looks, and the worry lines popping up on his head. Worrying for her.
"The catch is, you'll be taking your mother with you, as backup. This place I like a maze-we don't have enough intel to know how to get in and out of it easily, but Irina does. The thing that worries me is the your dad won't be there to supervise either, he's still doing some work for Sloane. It'll just be you and your mom there, Sydney . . . . Are you up for that?"
Sure she was. She had known about it a week ago, when Sark had informed her of it. Sydney smiled, taking Vaughn's hand and squeezing it. If she could just lean in and kiss him like she had done at the bar . . . but unfortunately, her inhibition had been lost once the alcohol wore off.
The plusses and minuses of drinking, she thought-
On one side, you have no qualms about kissing the love of your life, even though it could reap consequences such as getting shot and killed. On the other hand, it gives others an open opportunity to pick you up and cart you off to Paris while you are passed out.
Jesus, he's gorgeous, she thought . . . and he genuinely cares. With his slightly tousled hair, his soft eyelashes and his deep brown eyes, he seemed so soft. She might have been drunk, but she remembered how tender it had felt kissing him. Inadvertently, Sydney began leaning into him. Vaughn seemed to have the same idea. His head tilted slightly towards her, reaching to meet her halfway . . . .
Suddenly, they heard a door slam farther off. Weiss's voice filtered through the gray.
"Vaughn? Syd? Guys?"
Panic bells sounded in Syd's mind. That was too close. Pulling back and withdrawing her hand, she stood up hurriedly, smoothing out her skirt.
"Don't worry Vaughn, I'll be fine . . ." she said, not looking at him. How was she going to keep going like this?
Popping his head in, Weiss looked at the two of them strangely, but wisely didn't ask for an explanation. He wasn't born yesterday.
"Guys, Devlin just called an emergency meeting. Sark's escaped."