Facing Fear

Epilogue

~*~*~*~*~
The morning light gleamed softly in her eyes as Sydney awoke. The air smelled fresh and clean, and she was snug under soft sheets.

She rubbed her eyes and realized that she was in her own room.

And with agony Sydney remembered everything.

But the remembrance of Sark, being kidnapped, and the opal brought a new question.

Had it all been a dream?

Hope filled Sydney like the rain filled the stream. What was today? Had it only been a nightmare?

She jumped out of bed and caught a reflection of herself in her mirror.

Her hopes and the chance of it all being a dream diminished. For she was still in the clothes Sark had given her to wear. Sydney saw her expensive, black dress that she had bought for the date laying on a chair across the room.

It had not been just a simple nightmare.

It had been very real.

Then Sydney remembered the tranquilizer Sark had given her, and realized that he must have brought her home.

The thought made Sydney tremble. Sark, the terrorist who she had willingly kissed, the same man who she had unwillingly fallen in love with, had been in her home. He had tucked her into bed, and probably stood watching her sleep for a while before leaving. . .forever.

He had taken what he wanted from Sydney- her mother's opal. But he had also taken a part of Sydney that could never be filled again. A part of her heart.

Sydney let her head fall into her lap and cried. Cried for herself, cried for Sark, cried for the opal, and cried for her mother.

Life was so hard. She was confined in her own prison. . .a prison built of her own dreary emotions. It was a cell she couldn't escape, and one she would have to live with forever.

She finally remembered her father, and how worried he must be about her. Burying the new grief, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and determinedly stood up. She turned to look at herself in the mirror for a moment.

She needed to change, both her shirt and jeans were dirty. Maybe she would burn them. Her hair was badly tasseled, and she quickly ran a brush through it.

As she replaced the brush, her eye caught the small jewelry box that she had kept her mothers opal in for so many years.

It hadn't been a nightmare.

She lifted the lid of the box slowly and peered inside just to make sure. Just to be sure that it had all been real.

The opal wasn't there.

She knew it wasn't going to be there.

But something else was.

There was a folded letter lying in her box. The opal had been replaced with a letter.

Sydney felt her body begin to tremble. She lifted the paper unsteadily, and unfolded it. The flowing script read:

Sydney,

My deepest apologies for putting you through that whole ordeal. Some say that opals bring bad luck. I have to say that your opal did quite the opposite. Your opal brought me nothing but good luck; you and of course, the key to immortality as an added bonus.

It doesn't do to dwell on the past, Sydney. Nor to worry about the future. What has happened is done and can not be changed. Don't come looking for us; that would be a waste of your life. You only live so long Sydney. But, thanks to you, I will be around. . .for a long time.

Sincerely,

Sark

Sydney crumpled the paper in her hand. She lifted the jewelry box and threw it across the room in a spout of anger.

"I don't think so, Sark!" Sydney yelled to the walls in her room. "How long will you live once I've shot you in the head with a .45 several times!?"

She was acting like a mad person. But Sark had driven insane to a certain extent. The want of revenge came back again, and Sydney vowed to dedicate the rest of her life to the finding and killing of Sark.

Weather she would actually be able to kill him once she found him was an entirely different issue. . .
~*~*~*~*~
Jack Bristow was expecting a call from Vaughn at any time. Michael had been researching a new lead on Sydney's disappearance.

So, when his cell phone rang and he answered, the voice on the line surprised him.

"Jack here." He answered, hoping that Vaughn had actually found something useful on Sydney's case.

The voice on the other line hesitated. Then finally,

"Dad. I'm home."
~*~*~*~*~
Sydney embraced her father in a great hug. Tears were running down his cheek, and Vaughn, who was standing to the side, looked as if he might cry as well.

They stood in Sydney's living room. Both Jack and Michael had rushed over as soon as Sydney had called.

Sydney parted with her dad, who kissed her lightly on the cheek, muttering his thanks for having her home and how stupid he was to let something like that happen to her.

"It's not your fault, dad." She responded softly.

"That's right." Vaughn said, as he moved in to embrace Sydney as well. "If it's anyone's fault, it's Irina Derevko's." Sydney had told them all about her mother and the opal, it's secret, and why Sark had wanted it.

Sydney hesitated to respond to Vaughn's hug. She couldn't push the vision of Sark out of her mind. It was a curse.

But suddenly Vaughn just seemed. . .he just seemed Vaughn. There was nothing special about him anymore. Her stomach didn't flutter, and her heart didn't race when he touched her. . . with Sark it had.

She tried to push these thoughts out of her head, and fell into Vaughn's hug. He pulled away and laid his lips on hers.

She ended the kiss quickly and started the conversation.

"Where's Francie? I tried calling her, but she didn't pick up."

"That's really a good question." Jack said, his brow wrinkling in thought. "We got in touch with her after Sark kidnapped you, and she seemed worried enough, but she said she hadn't been home when it happened."

Vaughn picked up there. "And when we tried to call her again, to see if she remembered anything unusual about the day, she brushed our questions aside, and didn't help much. We haven't seen her at all, except when we combed over your place for clues. She just stayed out of our way."

"Well," Sydney began with puzzlement. "She was probably just scared, and didn't understand."

As if on cue the front door opened and Francie walked in.

"Sydney!" She cried. "What happened!?"

Sydney embraced her friend as well, but she hesitated on what to tell her. How could she tell Francie that she worked for the CIA, and that her worst enemy had kidnapped her for a Rambaldi artifact that held the secret to immortality?

Thankfully her father answered for her. He had always been the quick thinker.

"Sydney left on an emergency business trip on Friday, and hadn't had time to call us, and planned to when she reached her destination. But the small plane she had taken was experiencing problems after only an hour in the air, and they had to stop out in the middle of the desert."

Jack finished. It was a far-fetched story, but they had fed Francie worse lies.

"Then why didn't you call?" Francie asked. Sydney saw another strange flash of emotion through her friend's face. She had certainly been acting strange lately.

"I had forgotten my cell phone!" Sydney exclaimed. "I was stuck! Bizzare isn't it?" She laughed nervously.

"I'd say so." Francie answered. "But your home now, and we're thankful for that." She didn't sound all that thankful. "How about I fix us some tea?"

"That sounds great." Vaughn answered for them all. "Thanks."

Sydney sighed once Francie had reached the kitchen, and said in a low voice, "I'm going to find Sark."

Jack's defensive fatherly side took over. "You are doing no such thing. The authorities can handle them from here."

"Dad, I'm not giving up. I'm finding Sark, Sloane, and my mother. If they truly have completed the immortality work, then the world is in a lot of danger."

"Sydney it's too soon." Jack pleaded. "Please just let someone else worry about it now. I can't lose you again."

Sydney felt so much love for her father. She had forgotten how important their relationship was to her.

"I have to dad."

"No you don't." Vaughn cut in. "It's too risky. And they have hidden themselves well. You don't remember anything about the location of their lab?"

"No, I was drugged when they took me in, and out. I don't even know how long it took to get there. It can't be too far from LA though. I have to find them."

"No, I draw the line here, Sydney." Her father said. "You've done as much as you can, and you've been put through enough. If I have to make official orders so that you can't go looking for Sark and company, then I will."

Sydney stared at her father in disbelief. "You can't do that."

"I can and I will."

Sydney sunk down onto her sofa, and Vaughn did the same.

"You can't always win." He said softly. "Unfortunately good doesn't always prosper over evil."

"I know." Sydney answered.

She realized that part of her longing to find and destroy Sloane and all his work was that she wanted to see Sark again. Just look on him one more time to convince herself that she wasn't in love with him.

Then she would kill him.
~*~*~*~*~
Sark stood staring into Sydney's empty cell. She was gone for good. And he was left here, where he should be, maybe forever. If everything went right with the immortality formula, he could choose his future.

But he wanted his future to include Sydney. He wanted to hold her, wanted to explore her. He wanted to argue with her, or just see her one last time.

Sark heard someone approach and turned around.

"I need you to deliver some equipment to our contact." It was Sloane.

Sark raised a brow quizzically.

"It's just a new transmitter. The one she had at agent Bristow's place is having problems."

"You're asking me to deliver to agent Bristow's home?"

"Well you can meet our contact somewhere else if you would like." Sloane glanced from Sark to the empty prison cell that he had been staring into for quite sometime.

"You like her don't you?" Sloane asked, smiling.

Sark straightened his tie and cleared his throat. "Agent Bristow? Of course not."

"She is very beautiful." Sloane said, almost longingly. "I can see why you are attracted to her."

"Sir, I am not attracted to agent Bristow."

Sloane smiled. Sark was getting annoyed. This wasn't the first time he had wanted to wring the old git's neck.

"Hurry on then." Sloane ordered.

Sark stared him down for a second and then walked briskly away. He picked up the transmitter at the lab, and stopped by his own place to change and freshen up.

'I'm being ridiculous.' Sark thought to himself. 'I'm actually thinking that I might run into Sydney, and then my life will be complete.'

The way Sloane had been acting had bothered him though. He had made it seem like it was okay if Sark wanted to see Sydney. Well, Sark could do anything he wanted.

Unfortunately, Sydney was something he wanted. . .
~*~*~*~*~

Sydney sighed as the hot water left scalding red marks on her body. She had never enjoyed a shower so much in her life. She stood almost motionless under the water, letting her thoughts melt with the steam and comforting aroma of soap.

She had finally convinced her father that she wouldn't go after Sark. . .at least not right away.

Why did she want this revenge so bad? Why did he occupy her thoughts in places that only Vaughn should be?

After forty long minutes underneath the hot water, which was beginning to turn cold, she stepped out and dried off, running a separate towel through her soft chocolate colored hair.

She changed into a tank and cotton shorts, and went into the kitchen to see if Francie had ever made that tea.

There was no sign of Francie or tea in the kitchen. Sydney wondered where she could have gone, and called out her name. The house was deserted, and after a quick check out the window, she noticed that Francie's car was gone as well. She stared out the open blinds into the street outside. It was dark and misty, the full moon hidden by stormy clouds. She wondered about Francie and what she might be doing. They were going to have a talk some day soon. Something wasn't right between them.

Sydney pushed aside her worries about Francie and busied herself with the kettle, placing it on the stove to boil the water for tea.

Leafing through a magazine while waiting for the water to boil, Sydney felt a strange prickling on the back of her neck. It was that feeling. The feeling of being watched intently.

She slowly turned her head to the window with the open blinds.

Something flashed away, and Sydney was immediately on her guard. Someone was out there. They had been watching her, she just knew it.

Creeping to her bedroom, she grabbed her revolver out from under her bed and checked the barrel. There were only two bullets in it.

She scrambled around underneath the bed, and finally her hand closed over the box of spare bullets.

It was empty.

"Damn!"

She had two shots at the most for her own safety.

Keeping the gun at ready position, she made her way stealthily back into her living room. The feeling of being watched was over-whelming now. She turned each corner, jutting her gun out first and scanning the room before stepping into it.

She scanned the windows. The only one with the blinds open was then one she had looked out only minutes ago. No one could have gotten in. She was being paranoid. There were no eyes staring into her window. . .she had watched too many horror movies.

The kettle on the stove screamed it's eagerness to be poured out, and Sydney had to breathe for a moment to keep her heart rate steady. She glanced one more time at the window, reminded herself that she was just being paranoid, and that she needed to get more sleep, before throwing her gun onto the sofa next to her magazine and rushing into the kitchen to calm the whistling kettle.

The wonderful aroma of English Tea filled her nostrils as she wrapped her hands around the mug and went back into the living room.

She stopped dead in her tracks.

Her gun was gone.
~*~*~*~*~

Sark stood in Sydney Bristow's hallway, holding Sydney Bristow's gun, and watching Sydney Bristow stare in shock at the place where her gun had rested only seconds ago.

He congratulated himself in picking her lock and slipping in so smoothly and unnoticeably.

The shock on Sydney's face was replaced by an immense amount of anger, her fear being replaced by her well-known fighting instinct.

"Come out!" She yelled, and Sark sank deeper into the shadows of the hallway. "Are you scared to face me?!"

Her tone was mocking and brave, never quavering and quite professional. It was only a matter of seconds before she would find him. And Sark silently asked himself why he was here. Supposedly he was here to install a new transmitter for their contact posing as Francie. But that was done, Sark had completed it in a flash, silently and without Sydney ever noticing. He could have slipped out of the door while she was in her room, or while she was in the kitchen. But Sark's daring side had not allowed that. He came for what he wanted. He knew she wanted him just as bad.

She was getting closer and closer to the hallway. Her eyes were darting back and forth, her body moving silently and gracefully. Sark tucked the gun into the back of his thousand dollar suit pants and prepared to grab her. This was so much fun, he realized. She was intriguing.

Sydney had obviously discovered where the intruder was, and right as Sark leaped at her she was ready. She met him mid-way, never getting a glance of his face in the darkened hall, and rammed her shoulder into him. Pulling back to swing at him, Sark threw off the punch, by letting her fist smash into his palm, reached forward and grabbed her by the shoulder, and rolled forward as she tried to flip him over.

They tumbled out of the hall and into the more lighted living room. She unexpectedly twisted his arm away from her, and she shoved him to the floor. She had him pinned and looked into his face.

"YOU!" She cried, temporarily thrown off guard.

"Why of course." Sark replied nonchanlantly. "Aren't you happy to see me again so soon?"

He was stronger than her and he knew it. Using her astonishment to his advantage, he twisted his wrists out of her pinning grip and rolled the both of them over, this time restraining her to the floor.

She grunted and struggled, but he held her firm, using his body as a barrier.

"Why are you here!?" Sydney demanded, still struggling under his hold.

"Stop resisting." Sark answered, an animated gleam in his eye. "You'll tire yourself out and that will be no fun."

"Get off me!"

Sark was going to have to do something soon. The pleasure of holding her down with his own body was becoming evident.

He got to his feet, brushed off his nice, clean blue oxford shirt, and reached out a hand to help her up.

"Just like that?" Sydney asked incredulously. "You've got to be kidding." And to the surprise of them both she burst out laughing. "You broke into my home." She began in between a fit of giggles. "Stole my gun, ambushed me, and now you're going to give me your hand to help me up?"

She rolled with laughter, and he dropped his hand in awe. Sark was definitely bemused by this woman.

"I don't think so." Sydney said, finally controlling herself and standing up. "I'm going to kill you now, okay?"

She said it jovially, and Sark realized how much she was going through. Her eruption of laughter was to hide the pain and tears she wanted to spill. She had done this to herself, though. She had fallen for him.

"You can't kill me Sydney." Sark said softly. Sydney chose to ignore him.

"Tell me why you're here. What did Sloane send his little doggie for now?" She mocked him with pleasure.

Sark moved towards her and the effect he had expected occurred. She stepped back.

"Tell me!" She said, the mocking tone leaving her voice and the fear returning. "Why are you here?!" She took a step back each time he moved forward. Retreat. It was obvious, and they both knew it.

"You know why I'm here Sydney." He had said it, he was going to voice the truth.

"Obviously I don't." She replied with irritation. "Or I wouldn't be asking you."

He kept walking, and she kept retreating, her skin glowed bronze in the light, and her eyes moved nervously.

"Why are you backing away?" Sark asked, smiling with delight. He would win again. "Unless you're scared of me."

"I'm not scared of you!"

"Don't lie to yourself Sydney. You feel it everytime we're in the same room. You could even feel me watching you. And that scares you. It scares you that you would fall for someone like me. A cold-blooded, heartless killer."

He stopped walking as they reached the wall, she was cowering against it, trying to keep away from the touch she wanted so desperately. It was too easy.

"And then you say to yourself, 'I'll just kill him. That will end it all.' But that won't end it. I'll be in your dreams. I'll be under your very skin."

He was enjoying her change in expressions. Sark could see the very thoughts going through her head. He took one step closer to fill in the gap between them and knew there was no turning back.

Sydney trembled when he first touched her, running his hands down her side and finally wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Don't do this to me Sark." She whispered, as his lips moved closer. "I'm supposed to kill you."

"You wouldn't be able to even if you tried." He leaned in and let his lips wander dangerously close to hers, and then moved upward, to her ear. He whispered with a rich tone soothingly into her ear, "I love you."

She hesitated, taking a long look into his gleaming blue eyes. "Just for tonight." She whispered back at last. "I love you too." Sydney lifted her arms and wound them around his neck, knowing that she couldn't deny the feeling in her heart. It was wrong. She wasn't supposed to fall for the enemy.

Too late. . .
~*~*~*~*~
Sydney's life afterward would be turmoil. She knew it. She couldn't even carry a conversation with Sark without ending up in an argument.

But after that night, the night she had realized that love can't be denied, no matter what the person you find yourself in love with is like, that place in her heart would be complete. The emptiness and longing for someone that could comfort her. She had found it in the arms of an enemy.

They wouldn't date. They wouldn't marry. They wouldn't even call one another. But they would always sense and know each other, always pretending that nothing had ever happened between them and going on with their lives.

Maybe one day Sydney would find Sloane and her mother again. She was almost certain she would, and the immortality formula would be destroyed forever. . .only a memory of long ago, of dreams and accomplishments would remain.

And with it a memory of a forbidden love.

A memory of blue eyes and an innocent opal. . .
~*~*~*~*~
A/N: I know this doesn't wrap up the story completely, but I'm afraid that's my style of writing. I like to leave a touch of mystery in my stories, but I sincerely hope that all of you enjoyed the epilogue. I wanted Sydney and Sark to see each other one last time.

There won't be a sequel, cause I suck at those. Sorry! But expect another Sarkney fic from me in the future, once I figure out a plot!

Special thanks to nattie700 on her explanations about the opal.

And to Sarkie47: Don't worry about it! Lol. I am so glad you liked it. Thanks for all your encouraging reviews!

Thanks to all the reviewers!

~Sydney Wood