- Title: Rain 1/?

- Author: Aubrey Felton

- Email: tinkabelle_17@hotmail.com

- Rating: PG-13 for now.

- Spoilers/Timeline: N/A

- Summary: So far S/S are leaving for a weeklong op in three cities in Italy: Rome, Naples, and Pompei.

- Disclaimer: I do not own Alias or Sark (no matter how much I wish I owned Sark, but unfortunately it just isn't meant to be :'( oh well. Maybe some day...)

- 'Ship: S/S *********************************************************************** Sydney Bristow was angry. And for good reason. She had been sitting on a bench in the pouring rain for almost 45 minutes now. It was dark out side, and she was mad, shivering, and wet. Soaked really.

She was trying to keep herself busy by ranting about what an idiot she was for believing Agent Vaughn when he promised her earlier that day that he would have another agent retrieve her after yet another mission.

Well, guess what? Mission accomplished on my part. On his...well that's another story. He is completely incompetent. My sitting here in the freezing cold is merely the living, breathing proof of it.

"Unfortunately for me". She whispered the last part to herself quietly.

Suddenly, a black Mercedes pulled up to the curb directly in front of her. The windows were so dark that they almost matched the colour of the sky above her.

Feeling immediately anxious, Sydney was alert and ready before the car door had even been opened by the current occupant. She was alert and ready alright. Apparently being in the CIA for four years could do that to a person. Who would have thought it?

She realizes who the driver of the car was before he opened the door. Before she could see him or he her. It was almost as if she could sense him. It has to be that precognitive awareness that comes along with her job. Occupational hazard she calls it. Or maybe it's a gift given by God.

He turns when he steps out of the car.

The only things she can see are his eyes. They're blue. Her new favourite colour. Effective now.

He begins to speak to her. She holds up her hand before she hears too many words for her to handle. She knows that if they are spoken by him in his perfect British accent that she would be officially over. No more control for Sydney.

His eyes are saying 'too bad'. They're shouting the words really.

It's too much for her. She tried to turn around and walk away from him. She was too slow. Oh well. What's another wasted opportunity?

He's immediately in front of her. He can sense when she decides to move. The same way she could sense that it was him in the car. They are linked somehow. He knows it. So does Sydney. The only difference is that she believes in denial. He, on the other hand, does not.

He grips her wrist lightly. His eyes are pleading with her. She has never seen this side of him before. It scares her.

She pulls her arm away from him.

"Sark, I..."

He lets her go without a word. He understands.

She leaves. Decides she will find another way home.

He retreats to his car still parked beside him. He is almost surprised to see it there; surprised that anything built on that street is still there. It seems strange to him now that anything besides he or Sydney can really exist the way it had before they met for the first time.

He leaves. But not before he is certain that one of his employees will ensure her safe arrival home. He can offer her that - if nothing else.