A/N-you've probably all forgotten about this story by now; I'm REALLY sorry that it's been so long. But I'm an angst writer. I really am. I have to be happy to write this story, and I'm angsty much more often than happy. Which is why the angst ones get written faster. I know that this is short, but I have this new story that must at least get started before 'Truth Takes Time' airs, and I've been away from my laptop.

Reviews-Please? Please? Oh, please, please, please? What more can I say?

Sydney could feel the ice creeping into her veins. How could he have found them there? There, the warehouse, the one place that had always been safe. Had she been followed? Sydney gulped as she realized that she had failed to watch her back while she drove half as well as she should have on account of her heightened mood, and she mentally admitted that it was possible that she might have been followed by someone who knew what they were doing.

Which he did.

Turning away from Vaughn, as slowly as humanly possible, she looked up into a face that she had hoped never to see again. "Need I point out, MR. Sark, that if I'm a little girl you must still be an infant?" she said in her coolest tone, hoping to appear unfazed, even though nothing was further from the truth. Even she couldn't get used to the feeling of a gun pointed at her, especially by Sark and ESPECIALLY when a single shot could kill both her and Vaughn. But even if she couldn't avoid the dread creeping through her, she could stop her eyes from wandering to the gun barrel in Sark's hand, instead keeping her eyes on Sark's, hoping to read them somehow.

Vaughn was impressed by her composure; the thought of being walked in on by anyone just then had sent him into a cold sweat, and the identity of that person just made things worse. Syd, however, seemed to be quite in control of the situation. Sark, unfortunately, was unimpressed by her performance and announced, "A minor point at such a moment, Miss Bristow," he drew out her name deliberately.

"Which moment are you referring to, Sark? The kiss, or the extremely unwelcome interruption by the annoying, cocky Brit who showed up shortly thereafter?" Sydney was sure that her mother must have chosen members of her organization based upon their ability to banter as much as their ability to fight. But she could beat Sark in both; after all, her genes from both sides had endowed her with gifts in combat and conversation.

The grin that she hated slid into position, and he shot back, "Does it matter? In either case, my manner of address is hardly the most pressing issue."

"What would you have had me say?" Her voice turned tauntingly sweet, "Oh, Mr. Sark, it's so nice to see you! I believe you and Agent Vaughn have already been introduced," a wicked grin crept onto her face and her tone returned to normal, "When he knocked you out and handcuffed you to a fence in Denpasar? Hmm, yes, I'm sure that would have been much more appropriate."

His smile didn't waver. "Oh, but Miss Bristow, my last meeting with your..friend was more cordial than OUR last encounter. I mean, he didn't throw a pickaxe into my leg.."

"And you didn't shoot him under several inches of ice. But we both seem to have healed nicely, just in time to give each other a few more scars."

Sark smiled even wider. "I'm afraid that none of us will be adding to our scar collections today. You see, Miss Bristow, I'm not here for you. I came for Mr. Vaughn."

"Vaughn?" Sydney was genuinely flabbergasted. What information did he have that she didn't?

"Yes. I was anticipating some trouble getting him into custody, but now I can see that won't be the case."

"Oh, so you expect me to just turn around and walk out after you?" It was the first time that Vaughn had spoken since Sark had entered; he respected the fact that Sydney felt that she had to fight Sark herself, and so hadn't interfered. But he was the topic of conversation now, and he was damned if he was going to let them decide his own fate without him.

"Actually, yes, Mr. Vaughn. You see, I intend to keep my gun aimed at Sydney here, and if either of you so much as think of trying something her head will be gone." Sark looked Vaughn in the eyes for the first time. "I know that the threat to your own life wouldn't mean much, but when she is at risk.."

Noting Sark's momentary distraction, Sydney made her move. With one kick, the gun went spinning out of Sark's hand; the next hit him right in the forehead and sent him reeling. But Sark, like Sydney, had been trained to think and to recover quickly. He aimed a kick of his own, which Sydney dodged. However, as she swerved, he caught her head under his arm and held on tight. Sydney flailed wildly as she slowly lost breath, but somehow she couldn't seem to dislodge Sark's arm. She clawed, scratched, hit, kicked, and bit, but at such an awkward angle and with no weapon of any sort at hand she was unable to break his hold.

Sark used his other hand to reach into his boot and pull out a knife. He switched hands so that it was up against Sydney's neck.

But this time, Vaughn had managed to retrieve Sark's gun, mentally cursing himself for having left his own at headquarters when he came to meet Syd. However, Sark's voice stopped him from using it.

"If you shoot, Mr. Vaughn, my hand will automatically twitch. Which, in this case, would be more than enough to spell death for Agent Bristow. Therefore, I SUGEST," he said the word in a tone that indicated that it was anything BUT a suggestion, "that you throw the gun away and put your hands behind your head."

Vaughn did so; Sark kept his knife at Sydney's throat as he moved over to retrieve the gun. Pointing that at Sydney's head instead, he slipped the knife back into his boot and drew a pair of handcuffs from his coat pocket. "Put them on," he instructed, and Vaughn obeyed. 'Please don't let him hurt Sydney; I'll do anything he wants, just don't let him hurt her,' rang through Vaughn's head over and over, but he had too much pride to beg aloud.

Smirking, Sark used his free hand to reach into his pocket and draw out a small, rectangular device that Sydney recognized instantly as a stunner. There was no way, she quickly decided, that she was going to let Sark get away with this! After all, she had bested him in fights before. Taking a deep breath and shooting a look at Vaughn, she struck.

A/N-Forgive me, fight scenes are not my thing. I will update sometime fairly soon.