Breathe. InOut. In. Out.
Count on Sark for dropping elephant-sized hints and then - two seconds later - act as though I don't even exist. He's busy typing away on his laptop and I simmer away. Fine. Fine. I can deal with this. I whip out my laptop and pointedly start typing too. Yes, I'm fully aware that I'm acting like a brat, but I suppose he has that effect on me.
Type type type. Go ahead and write up plans for world domination Pretty Boy, I'm working on my English paper!
'Sydney,' he says after a while, looking at me with those eyes of his, 'you really don't have to type so furiously.'
'Why?' I counter, 'Are you so easily distracted?'
He smiles. Slowly. Meaningfully. Maddeningly. 'What?' I snap, totally unable to help myself. He chuckles and goes back to his typing. I give up and decide that hating him is so much easier.
He gives a quiet sigh and puts his laptop away. Hmph. All that scheming must get tiring. Hey, wait a minute - he's actually closing his eyes…
Mr Sark is taking a nap?
I wait for an agonisingly long twenty minutes.This is the perfect time to make that damn duplicate. I should reach down, quietly retrieve the directions, then whip out my snazzy CIA-issued camera and snap away.
And risk being busted and consquently strangled (not shot, we're on a plane here). Hm. Is he really asleep? I'm surprised he takes naps. Isn't that dangerous for a man like him? Why is he even sleepy? It's not like we did much during the mission. Other than flirt like crazy and almost kiss but I mean that's not exactly my idea of physical extertion but mentally yeah it was a battle and -
Stop. Thinking.
I carefully peer at his still form. Okay. Not moving much, that's a good sign. His head is tilted slightly to the left, and I can't help but notice the wispy blonde curls that peek out from under his collar. Or the way his lips are slightly parted. Or the steady rhythm of his rising and falling chest.
I gulp. Yeah. He's asleep. And I'm obsessed.
My fingers are trembling. The document slides easily out of the folder. Amazing, isn't it, how we go to such lengths to get two sheets of paper. One silent snap. Two silent snaps. Make it three, just in case. Hurryhurry put the documents back and that camera away and -
'Sydney….'
I freeze.
Oh crap.
*
