This day was remarkably like one that had taken place five weeks before. The yellow orange glow
was barely peeking over the horizon as he pulled into the garage driving his favorite car, the
old black Mercedes. He sat there a few moments, absent-mindedly running his hands over the
steering wheel, and asking himself once again what he was doing at SD-6 so early. It took
little deliberation to reach the answer. He knew it so well. There was nothing else. His attempt
at filling that ever enduring void had failed leaving him wounded and embarrassed thoroughly. It
had not even lasted through the night.
He was just stepping out onto the hard pavement when Syd's car entered. For everything Syd
went through, Sloane had been less than generous with time off. It was only 2 days since the
events at the park and the feelings it caused were still raw. Made all the worse by seeing her
after such a moment of vulnerability. It felt like fate's harsh hand slapping him in the face
saying, "Yes, that is what you can't have. Why did you ever think you could?"
Sark acknowledged it had been a long shot. He had been nothing more than a good girl's venture
down the dark forbidden path. Self pity and lust compelling her actions, nothing more. Well
nothing more than that "caring" Syd mentioned. Alone, there was little comfort in those words.
She would not act on them but he found relief, sick as it was, in her rejection of Vaughn. If
he was to be alone at least he knew she was too and thinking about him in return.
Sark drew a long breath, shook himself out of it and headed towards the door with determination.
This was a poor pattern he was following and it needed to stop. His feelings be damned. He was
not about to unravel further in her presence and no more damage would be done. Waiting for the
elevator he slipped into his old cold shrewd self.
A minute later, he watched Syd scamper trying to catch the elevator. The well taught drive to be
courteous took over and he held the elevator for her. A dimple faced Syd strolled in and
brightly addressed him. "Morning Sark."
Deadpan Sark replied a greeting. Civil enough. It would be all over in a minute, them separating
ways. Not much could happen in that time yet it ate at him. Standing, his hands clinched in
front of him, he ordered his will to obey. It had to obey but it wouldn't. Her eyes were undoing
him. They keep flashing, looking over. He craved to respond, to feel. Fantasies of them ran
through his head. What it would be like to kiss her; to take her right there pressed against
the elevator's walls. He wanted to but temptation did not get a chance to win. As the doors
opened, his heart sighed alleviating the pressure that had built.
"Oh Sark!" Syd said stopping him dead in his tracks. "We need to talk, sometime today."
Not waiting for an answer she left, lightly brushing up against him on her way out. He had let
her bewitch him again.
~
Sark's day was unrelenting. Sloane practically had put him through whiplash with all meetings
and tasks he had been expected to go in those short hours. His life long odyssey was clearly not
being accomplished fast enough for his taste. The positive side effect of it all was he had
little opportunity to think about Sydney.
Sark presently sat in his office completing the most undemanding activity of his day. He was
going over the final details of the impending mission. Sydney and him were to leave right away.
Intel showed a man Harper, who owned several clubs, may have knowledge on the location of
one of the two missing coins. They were going to England to pose as two club goers, break into
his office and retrieve the information from Harper's computer. He was just looking over the
layout of the club when a familiar knock was heard on his door.
"Come in," he said.
It was her. During the conferences with Sloane that day, Sark had observed a trend in Sydney's
behavior. He only 'existed' when others were not around. Perhaps it was Sydney's way of hiding
that there was something between them. Whatever it was he did not like it. He more than
understood why she would act that way but once again his emotions were getting in the way of
what his mind told him. Sark had fallen hard for the daughter of his enemy.
This was a prefect opportunity to try to learn what Syd did and did not know. He had always had
leverage over her and not the other way around. This new situation was unsettling but he was far
more collected than before. Maybe she knew nothing of the park. He was resolved on being blunt.
It may be the best way to determine were they stood.
"I am insisting you be honest with me. You wanted to see me. Now without games tell me what
you want?"
Syd gestured around the room and he understood.
"We have our privacy," he informed her.
"You have already heard all I am going to say," Sydney finally spoke in a professional tone that
reminded Sark of Irina. "What I want to know is why Sloane is behaving the way he is? What is
happening?"
"Surely you don't presume I would answer your questions receiving nothing in return?"
A cunning smirk came over Syd's face. "Depends on what you are desiring, in return."
"I said no games Ms. Bristow."
"Very well. In the long run, we're after the same things. Being we are on the same side and
all."
Sark leaned back into his chair, looking Sydney over and subconsciously giving a slight tug to
his lower lip. "Yes. Well it is to be understood that some information is off limits around
here."
"I simply asked for your opinion on Sloane."
"In my opinion, you are searching for straight out answers. We both know that."
"Lets just say we don't," Sydney replied clearly having no intention of dropping the subject.
"It is somewhat obvious. Sloane is not keen on missing agents nor failing missions."
"Who is playing games now, Sark?" His eye brows shoot up at her audacity. "It is more than that.
We have both seen missions fail before and he has never behaved like this."
"He was uneasy about your safety."
"Some may have been. Sloane was not one of them." There was almost a bitter sound to those
words.
"You are being very frank Syd-" Sark stopped himself but it was too late. A knowing smile over
took Sydney face. "Ms. Bristow."
"Things are not the same you can say."
~
After yet another flight across the Atlantic, Sark was resting on the edge of a bed in some
contemptible 'pay by the hour' motel, waiting for Sydney. Getting dressed had taken him little
time. He threw on a pair of old jeans, a t-shirt and a leather jacket and was set to go. Syd
was taking a bit more time.
When she emerged, Syd was wearing what some would regard as a scandalous amount of
clothing. Her short, black, tight dress showed off all she had. Sark was more than taken by
the vision. He felt the heat, that particular stirring and he despised himself for it, but
could not look away. He had seen her like this before but never quite like this. Never had he
known what truly lied beneath.
He watched as she put on a generous amount of makeup and few pieces on costume jewelry. It
was almost a domestic scene, he thought with some fondness, if not for her dressed like a
hooker.
"See done ahead of time," Syd said adding a raven black wig to the assemble.
She turned to see he was undoubtedly checking her out. Their eyes connected in an passionate
stare that made Sark's heart pound. Without looking away she came over to him, straddling him.
As stunned as he was, Sark just became even more turned on by this.
"Mmmmm," she mischievously laughed grinding against him. "You are more than ready as well I
see."
Sark moaned as Syd pulled him into a deep kiss. It was soft and full of longing. He wanted this
and so much more. Leaning back onto the bed, their lust took over. As their bodies entwined and
their hands roamed, Sark recalled how good this had felt. How badly he had needed this. It was
now his for the taking. Her taste, he recalled how he loved that too. And how it ended. This was
not the first time. That could not be forgotten. He had to stop this.
Hard of breath, Sark flipped her over and managed to say, "I hate wanting this."
He stared down at her waiting. For what exactly he did not know but it would not be anything he
had expected.
"Let's leave it all. It will just be you and me." If it was possible to have hope, pain and
desperation in one's voice all at once, hers was overflowing with it.
His chest felt heavy and he shook his head in disbelief. Give it all up? Was she really willing? It was not even for love. It was for a chance at love. Could he leave behind all his plans for this incredible desire?
"Syd," his voice trembled as he saw tears in her eyes.
"Aidan."
No he couldn't. Sark pushed her to the side and got up.
"Time to go," he said handing her coat to her.
End of chapter 12
was barely peeking over the horizon as he pulled into the garage driving his favorite car, the
old black Mercedes. He sat there a few moments, absent-mindedly running his hands over the
steering wheel, and asking himself once again what he was doing at SD-6 so early. It took
little deliberation to reach the answer. He knew it so well. There was nothing else. His attempt
at filling that ever enduring void had failed leaving him wounded and embarrassed thoroughly. It
had not even lasted through the night.
He was just stepping out onto the hard pavement when Syd's car entered. For everything Syd
went through, Sloane had been less than generous with time off. It was only 2 days since the
events at the park and the feelings it caused were still raw. Made all the worse by seeing her
after such a moment of vulnerability. It felt like fate's harsh hand slapping him in the face
saying, "Yes, that is what you can't have. Why did you ever think you could?"
Sark acknowledged it had been a long shot. He had been nothing more than a good girl's venture
down the dark forbidden path. Self pity and lust compelling her actions, nothing more. Well
nothing more than that "caring" Syd mentioned. Alone, there was little comfort in those words.
She would not act on them but he found relief, sick as it was, in her rejection of Vaughn. If
he was to be alone at least he knew she was too and thinking about him in return.
Sark drew a long breath, shook himself out of it and headed towards the door with determination.
This was a poor pattern he was following and it needed to stop. His feelings be damned. He was
not about to unravel further in her presence and no more damage would be done. Waiting for the
elevator he slipped into his old cold shrewd self.
A minute later, he watched Syd scamper trying to catch the elevator. The well taught drive to be
courteous took over and he held the elevator for her. A dimple faced Syd strolled in and
brightly addressed him. "Morning Sark."
Deadpan Sark replied a greeting. Civil enough. It would be all over in a minute, them separating
ways. Not much could happen in that time yet it ate at him. Standing, his hands clinched in
front of him, he ordered his will to obey. It had to obey but it wouldn't. Her eyes were undoing
him. They keep flashing, looking over. He craved to respond, to feel. Fantasies of them ran
through his head. What it would be like to kiss her; to take her right there pressed against
the elevator's walls. He wanted to but temptation did not get a chance to win. As the doors
opened, his heart sighed alleviating the pressure that had built.
"Oh Sark!" Syd said stopping him dead in his tracks. "We need to talk, sometime today."
Not waiting for an answer she left, lightly brushing up against him on her way out. He had let
her bewitch him again.
~
Sark's day was unrelenting. Sloane practically had put him through whiplash with all meetings
and tasks he had been expected to go in those short hours. His life long odyssey was clearly not
being accomplished fast enough for his taste. The positive side effect of it all was he had
little opportunity to think about Sydney.
Sark presently sat in his office completing the most undemanding activity of his day. He was
going over the final details of the impending mission. Sydney and him were to leave right away.
Intel showed a man Harper, who owned several clubs, may have knowledge on the location of
one of the two missing coins. They were going to England to pose as two club goers, break into
his office and retrieve the information from Harper's computer. He was just looking over the
layout of the club when a familiar knock was heard on his door.
"Come in," he said.
It was her. During the conferences with Sloane that day, Sark had observed a trend in Sydney's
behavior. He only 'existed' when others were not around. Perhaps it was Sydney's way of hiding
that there was something between them. Whatever it was he did not like it. He more than
understood why she would act that way but once again his emotions were getting in the way of
what his mind told him. Sark had fallen hard for the daughter of his enemy.
This was a prefect opportunity to try to learn what Syd did and did not know. He had always had
leverage over her and not the other way around. This new situation was unsettling but he was far
more collected than before. Maybe she knew nothing of the park. He was resolved on being blunt.
It may be the best way to determine were they stood.
"I am insisting you be honest with me. You wanted to see me. Now without games tell me what
you want?"
Syd gestured around the room and he understood.
"We have our privacy," he informed her.
"You have already heard all I am going to say," Sydney finally spoke in a professional tone that
reminded Sark of Irina. "What I want to know is why Sloane is behaving the way he is? What is
happening?"
"Surely you don't presume I would answer your questions receiving nothing in return?"
A cunning smirk came over Syd's face. "Depends on what you are desiring, in return."
"I said no games Ms. Bristow."
"Very well. In the long run, we're after the same things. Being we are on the same side and
all."
Sark leaned back into his chair, looking Sydney over and subconsciously giving a slight tug to
his lower lip. "Yes. Well it is to be understood that some information is off limits around
here."
"I simply asked for your opinion on Sloane."
"In my opinion, you are searching for straight out answers. We both know that."
"Lets just say we don't," Sydney replied clearly having no intention of dropping the subject.
"It is somewhat obvious. Sloane is not keen on missing agents nor failing missions."
"Who is playing games now, Sark?" His eye brows shoot up at her audacity. "It is more than that.
We have both seen missions fail before and he has never behaved like this."
"He was uneasy about your safety."
"Some may have been. Sloane was not one of them." There was almost a bitter sound to those
words.
"You are being very frank Syd-" Sark stopped himself but it was too late. A knowing smile over
took Sydney face. "Ms. Bristow."
"Things are not the same you can say."
~
After yet another flight across the Atlantic, Sark was resting on the edge of a bed in some
contemptible 'pay by the hour' motel, waiting for Sydney. Getting dressed had taken him little
time. He threw on a pair of old jeans, a t-shirt and a leather jacket and was set to go. Syd
was taking a bit more time.
When she emerged, Syd was wearing what some would regard as a scandalous amount of
clothing. Her short, black, tight dress showed off all she had. Sark was more than taken by
the vision. He felt the heat, that particular stirring and he despised himself for it, but
could not look away. He had seen her like this before but never quite like this. Never had he
known what truly lied beneath.
He watched as she put on a generous amount of makeup and few pieces on costume jewelry. It
was almost a domestic scene, he thought with some fondness, if not for her dressed like a
hooker.
"See done ahead of time," Syd said adding a raven black wig to the assemble.
She turned to see he was undoubtedly checking her out. Their eyes connected in an passionate
stare that made Sark's heart pound. Without looking away she came over to him, straddling him.
As stunned as he was, Sark just became even more turned on by this.
"Mmmmm," she mischievously laughed grinding against him. "You are more than ready as well I
see."
Sark moaned as Syd pulled him into a deep kiss. It was soft and full of longing. He wanted this
and so much more. Leaning back onto the bed, their lust took over. As their bodies entwined and
their hands roamed, Sark recalled how good this had felt. How badly he had needed this. It was
now his for the taking. Her taste, he recalled how he loved that too. And how it ended. This was
not the first time. That could not be forgotten. He had to stop this.
Hard of breath, Sark flipped her over and managed to say, "I hate wanting this."
He stared down at her waiting. For what exactly he did not know but it would not be anything he
had expected.
"Let's leave it all. It will just be you and me." If it was possible to have hope, pain and
desperation in one's voice all at once, hers was overflowing with it.
His chest felt heavy and he shook his head in disbelief. Give it all up? Was she really willing? It was not even for love. It was for a chance at love. Could he leave behind all his plans for this incredible desire?
"Syd," his voice trembled as he saw tears in her eyes.
"Aidan."
No he couldn't. Sark pushed her to the side and got up.
"Time to go," he said handing her coat to her.
End of chapter 12
