Bloodred Senseless - Chapter 10: If for something else
Sydney's eyelids fluttered open. Sunlight was aimed directly at her through the large window to her right. Suddenly, she sat up in bed—the window in her room had been blacked out.
She looked around, taking in her surroundings. This room (she was sure it wasn't hers) was furnished in stark white, from the wallpapered walls to the soft bedspreads that wrinkled as she attempted to get out of the bed. It was then that she realized she was without clothing. She stopped abruptly, jaw dropping as her mind figured everything out.
Oh. My. Fucking. God.
She found sweatpants and a t-shirt folded neatly on the chair closest to the bed. Hastily pulling them on, Sydney went to the bathroom door and started pounding on it with her fist. It pushed itself open and she stopped, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was disheveled, and as she frantically ran her fingers through it, she discovered an unmistakable red blotch on her neck.
This was getting better and better.
Temper flaring, she went to the door in the wall, assuming it was the door adjoining her room with this one. She hit it with her fist. The doorknob clicked almost immediately. It opened, revealing her original kidnapper.
"Where's Sark?" she asked angrily, pushing past him and surveying the room.
"He's gone."
Though half of her was sighing in relief, she asked, "Since when?"
"Since my shift started at five this morning."
"Your shift?"
"Yeah, you know: when one person's here for a block of time, then another comes, then another—"
"I know what shifts are," she interrupted tersely. "He didn't say anything?"
"Only that he upped your morphine level and you passed out thirty seconds later. Said not to bother you." He raised an eyebrow. "Why are you asking me?"
She unconsciously pulled her collar up to cover her neck and replied simply. "Morphine?"
"Yeah, so you didn't notice your shoulder. Heh, sorry about that."
"Doesn't matter, I don't feel anything."
He chuckled. "You will." With that, he pushed her out of the room and slammed the door shut.
-
Afraid that she would start to remember what happened, Sydney spent the rest of the day (she could now roughly tell the time of day by the sun) tidying up the room and lounging. It irked her that Sark had used morphine on her without her consent, but as evening grew closer she started to wish he was there with more.
An impossible throbbing was making itself known in her shoulder. As the hours went on, it became more and more significant until she couldn't even move her arm anymore. She stood to go to the other room, wondering if there was any morphine in it. Sydney found herself wondering if Sark was there and smiling.
She stopped in her tracks. What the hell had happened last night?
Oh god, she thought, tell me this is not happening. She started towards the door again and knocked. Sark opened it. They stood in silence until Sydney said, "Do you have any more of that morphine you used on me last night?" A muscle twitched in his cheek as he stepped back to let her in. She left the door open behind her and sat on the bed. As he injected her with the clear liquid she asked, "So, how was last night?"
"What are you implying, Agent Bristow?"
"Nothing, just wondering how your night was."
"Much better than yours, I'm sure. I went back to my apartment."
"Oh." She watched as he removed the needle from her and carelessly tossed the syringe into the wastebasket beside him. The feeling in her arm started to disappear and she sighed. "Thank you." He only nodded in reply. Angered by his loss of words, she snapped at him. "What happened last night?"
"If you're asking if we slept together, my only reply is that we were pretty damn close."
"What do you mean by that?"
He looked at her face for the first time. "It means that you passed out a few minutes after you kissed me."
"I kissed you? How much morphine did you put in me?"
"The standard dose for someone who has been shot."
"And what's that, a gallon?" She turned to leave but spun around. "You know why I'm angry, but I just can't possibly tell you how relieved I am." He started to open his mouth but she cut him off. "And don't say anything about being the best I'd ever have. I have had pretty damn good."
He smirked. "Took the words right out of my mouth." He touched his collar for a moment as she left.
Once the door was safely closed, she leaned against it. "Lying bastard."
Sydney's eyelids fluttered open. Sunlight was aimed directly at her through the large window to her right. Suddenly, she sat up in bed—the window in her room had been blacked out.
She looked around, taking in her surroundings. This room (she was sure it wasn't hers) was furnished in stark white, from the wallpapered walls to the soft bedspreads that wrinkled as she attempted to get out of the bed. It was then that she realized she was without clothing. She stopped abruptly, jaw dropping as her mind figured everything out.
Oh. My. Fucking. God.
She found sweatpants and a t-shirt folded neatly on the chair closest to the bed. Hastily pulling them on, Sydney went to the bathroom door and started pounding on it with her fist. It pushed itself open and she stopped, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was disheveled, and as she frantically ran her fingers through it, she discovered an unmistakable red blotch on her neck.
This was getting better and better.
Temper flaring, she went to the door in the wall, assuming it was the door adjoining her room with this one. She hit it with her fist. The doorknob clicked almost immediately. It opened, revealing her original kidnapper.
"Where's Sark?" she asked angrily, pushing past him and surveying the room.
"He's gone."
Though half of her was sighing in relief, she asked, "Since when?"
"Since my shift started at five this morning."
"Your shift?"
"Yeah, you know: when one person's here for a block of time, then another comes, then another—"
"I know what shifts are," she interrupted tersely. "He didn't say anything?"
"Only that he upped your morphine level and you passed out thirty seconds later. Said not to bother you." He raised an eyebrow. "Why are you asking me?"
She unconsciously pulled her collar up to cover her neck and replied simply. "Morphine?"
"Yeah, so you didn't notice your shoulder. Heh, sorry about that."
"Doesn't matter, I don't feel anything."
He chuckled. "You will." With that, he pushed her out of the room and slammed the door shut.
-
Afraid that she would start to remember what happened, Sydney spent the rest of the day (she could now roughly tell the time of day by the sun) tidying up the room and lounging. It irked her that Sark had used morphine on her without her consent, but as evening grew closer she started to wish he was there with more.
An impossible throbbing was making itself known in her shoulder. As the hours went on, it became more and more significant until she couldn't even move her arm anymore. She stood to go to the other room, wondering if there was any morphine in it. Sydney found herself wondering if Sark was there and smiling.
She stopped in her tracks. What the hell had happened last night?
Oh god, she thought, tell me this is not happening. She started towards the door again and knocked. Sark opened it. They stood in silence until Sydney said, "Do you have any more of that morphine you used on me last night?" A muscle twitched in his cheek as he stepped back to let her in. She left the door open behind her and sat on the bed. As he injected her with the clear liquid she asked, "So, how was last night?"
"What are you implying, Agent Bristow?"
"Nothing, just wondering how your night was."
"Much better than yours, I'm sure. I went back to my apartment."
"Oh." She watched as he removed the needle from her and carelessly tossed the syringe into the wastebasket beside him. The feeling in her arm started to disappear and she sighed. "Thank you." He only nodded in reply. Angered by his loss of words, she snapped at him. "What happened last night?"
"If you're asking if we slept together, my only reply is that we were pretty damn close."
"What do you mean by that?"
He looked at her face for the first time. "It means that you passed out a few minutes after you kissed me."
"I kissed you? How much morphine did you put in me?"
"The standard dose for someone who has been shot."
"And what's that, a gallon?" She turned to leave but spun around. "You know why I'm angry, but I just can't possibly tell you how relieved I am." He started to open his mouth but she cut him off. "And don't say anything about being the best I'd ever have. I have had pretty damn good."
He smirked. "Took the words right out of my mouth." He touched his collar for a moment as she left.
Once the door was safely closed, she leaned against it. "Lying bastard."