Author's Notes: Thanks to all the reviews from the last chapter, they helped me to get this one out faster. I don't know if I should end this story quickly, or if I should stretch it out. Any comments or suggestions would be greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading and enjoy!

Disclaimer: The characters of Alias belong to J.J. Abrams and ABC and all those awesome people!

**SYDNEY POV**

            I walked in and dropped my bag at the door. I headed over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water and twisted the top off. I took a large gulp and grudged my bag with me into my room. I threw it in the corner and figured I would unpack it later. Right now, I needed a nice warm bath in the comfort of my bathroom.

            I gently stepped into the scalding hot water and could just feel the grime being washed off my skin. Don't get me wrong, I love Russia, it's just that I feel like I have to clean myself of everything I did when I return home. Makes understanding my life so much easier. I lit a few candles and felt so relaxed. I had two hours until 7, until our meeting was due to take place.

            What was going to happen? Hopefully not a repeat of our last encounter in the park. Maybe he'll do something semi-romantic and surprise the living daylights out of me. Highly doubt it, I'm talking about Sark here. However, he did so much more open and relaxed around me. Maybe he did with all his women.

            Speaking of, how do I not know that he has women scattered around the globe for whenever he's conveniently there. I'll have to ask him about that. He probably won't be too happy with me if I do.

            I heard the front door squeak open and figured it had to be either Will or Francie. I just sit back and relax in my bath and wait for one of them to acknowledge themselves. How could explain this to them? I couldn't, especially to Will, so I wouldn't. It would be easier to play it this way.

            I heard a small tapping on the door and a quiet, "Sydney, you in there?"

            "Hey, Will," I reply.

            "Just checking," he tells me and I jump out of the bath and wrap my bathrobe around me. I wrap a towel around my wet hair and open the door and feel a sweep of cold air envelop me. I walked into the kitchen and saw Will sitting on the counter with an orange in hand.

            "Hey," I tell him.

            "How was your trip?" he asks me.

            "It went well," I say, the only response that I could come up with that wouldn't give him the slightest hint at what really went one.

            "That's good," he replies.

            "Hey, I have to get ready for this meeting I have tonight," I say to him.

            "A date?" he questions.

            I have to lie, something I hadn't wanted to do, "No, I meeting an old friend I just caught up with."

            "Oh, okay," he replies.

            I walk back into my room and pull out a simple outfit, black pants and a brown flowery top. Something simple enough for any environment that I may be faced with tonight. What was he going to have us do? Maybe we'll go to dinner, or maybe dancing, or maybe nothing. Maybe I'm taking this too far. He'll probably want to break it off.

            With that in mind, I continued getting ready. Dried my hair straight and dabbed a little bit of makeup, enough to be barely noticeable. I changed into my outfit and soon enough it was quarter to 7. I quickly said goodbye to Will and headed out the door. I drove to some pop music to the park and parked my car in an alley by the park. Didn't want anyone to know I was around here from the CIA. I casually got out and started my walk into the park.

I walked to our infamous bench from our first encounter and took a seat. It was 7:01 and no sign of Sark. I grabbed a mint out of my purse and applied some chap stick to pass the time. I waited… for it seemed like an eternity. In retrospect, it was only 5 minutes.

            I turned my head when I felt his body sit down next to mine on the bench.

            "I was getting impatient," I tell him.

            "I had some business to attend to," he explains.

            "Well, what did you want?" I ask him, getting down to the real reason he asked me here. He uncomfortably shifted in his seat and waited a second to respond.

            "I figured we could have dinner, if it's not too much trouble for you," he asks nervously, the first time I've seen him out of his strict persona.

            "Oh really now? Are you asking me out on a date?" I playfully joke with him.

            He obviously could tell I was kidding and smiles at me back, "Yes, I am."

            "Alright, we're we going?" I get up and start walking.

            He must be stunned by my actions because it takes him a second to jump up and run up to me, "Seriously?"

            "I know the first time we've gone out to dinner it didn't fare very well, but let's make this time better," I tell him.

            "Good," he quietly says and leads me hand in hand to his awaiting limo.

A silence comes over us as we drive in his very nice limo. I wait to say anything, but he obviously has something to say.

            "Where did you leave your car?" he asks me.

            "Oh, in a nearby alley out of the way," I inform him.

            I get a brief nod from him in approval. He shifts and I wait to start saying something before the shrill of his cell phone interrupts me. He quickly flips it open and starts speaking in what it seems like code. He turns his face away from me and makes it apparent that I can't hear him.

            I give up on trying to listen in on his phone call and just observe the people passing us by. Nothing like observing the LA nightlife at it's finest. We make a turn into an area of town that is very upper class and that I wasn't exactly familiar with. Soon enough, Sark ends his call and directs his attention back to me.

            "Business," he explains, barely hinting at any of a million things it could be about. The mystery behind Sark is ultimately the only thing that could destroy our budding relationship, but for now, I ignored it.

            "So, we're we headed?" I ask, pushing the call out of my mind for now.

            "Now Sydney, you ask to many questions. Be patient," he says, almost teasing me.

            I give him my playful pouting frown and turn my head away. He quickly grabs my arm and pulls me into a short kiss.

            Once we pull back, I say to him, "I hope that's how you like ending every fight. I'll make sure to fight you more often."

            "Oh really now, Ms. Bristow?" he questions.

            "Yes, indeed," I reply and notice the limo pulling into a very nice looking home. Must be Sark's.

            We are in fact there when the driver opens the door for both of us to get out. I take Sark's hand and he leads me into the door. I lean in close to him and whisper, "Doesn't Sloane have security on your house?"

            "He removed it a week ago," he explains.

            "Oh, good," I say in relief. The last person I wanted to know about Sark and I being Sark and I was Sloane.

He takes me in the front entrance and I sense a mood being present in the house. Candles were lit and he took me into a formal dining area, where a candlelit table for two was prepared. He pulled out the chair for me and let me sit, then took his own seat.

            "I figured this was a safer idea than dining in public," he explains his action.

            I can only nod because of the ultimate amazement I just experienced walking into such a romantic gesture. He must actually really like me, which was hard for me to understand without something in the back of my mind saying, 'He's playing you' or something along those lines.

            A waiter comes out from what appeared to be the kitchen and opens a bottle of wine and pours it into our bottles. He quickly disappears without one word to either of us.

            I finally say something to him, "You planned all this?"

            He looks surprised at me, then replies, "For you? Of course."

            I smile at his response as I head the doorbell ring. I wondered if it was more addition to our already magical evening. I looked at Sark and by judging his expression, my guess that it wasn't.

            "Wait here," he tells me and stands up and heads toward the front door. He didn't look too pleased that something, or rather someone, interrupted his plans.

            I waited in my seat and took a swig of my wine. It was rather good wine, but then I remembered that Sark was the expert of wine.

I had been waiting for two minutes when I heard the person at the door. It was a familiar voice and then it hit me. Who else in LA would know exactly where Sark lived? Sloane of course, so I made my exit towards the bathroom and found one quickly to steak out in. I was bored after a minute or two, so decided to try to make my escape quickly upstairs. I easily did, avoiding the rooms that appeared to have Sark and Sloane in them.

            I climbed the stairs and found my way into Sark's bedroom. It was decorated in dark reds and blacks and was very masculine. I examined its decorations and graced my hand across the silk bed coverings and glanced around the entire room. I have to admit, he has a good knowledge in fashion and decorating. And he was cute, so adorably cute. How did I get so lucky?

            I came out of the room and peered my listening downstairs and heard the words "Rambaldi" and "Manuscript" and figured they were still here. I found my way into his "game room", or that's what I appropriately named it. It had a black leather couch and a very nice flat screen TV. Doubt he used it much, had it more for show. I took a seat on the couch and opened a book that way lying on the coffee table on Greece.

            Soon becoming engrossed in the book, I didn't even notice Sark was in the room until I felt two warm hands placed on my shoulder.

            I turned my head up to see him and gave him a smile. He leaned down and planted a small kiss on my cheek and proceed to sit down next to me.

            "How was Sloane?" I ask him.

            "Boring as ever," he says in reply. "He likes to show up uninvited as much as possible to make my only free time unenjoyable."

            "Sorry," I say to him, with my best smile. He places his hand on my cheek and we lean in and kiss.

            "No, I'm sorry, our perfect evening has been ruined now," he says.

            "No, it hasn't. We have plenty of time to make our night enjoyable," I tell him.

            "Then, its set, shall we eat?" he asks. I stand up and take his hand and he leads me down his beautiful, Victorian stairway.

As soon as we walk into the dining area, we're startled by the person that greets us there.

            "I know you too good, Mr. Sark, I knew you were up to something," Sloane says in his weasel voice. I quickly grab Sark's hand in protection and he looks as scared as I.

~~Thanks for reading! Reviews are great appreciated!~~ Masquerade