Ch. 3
Rating: PG-13 for bad language (sorry – this is your only warning.
Disclaimer – don't own alias, but keep on reading ight?
Distribution – sd-1.com, ff.net. ask if you want it..
A/N: not as many reviews as my first chapter.. sniff sniff. Please review.. I thrive off of them! And I know you guys all read.. so please, let me know how it is!!
Thanks! black kitti =^.^-
**********
"Freeze!"
Michael Vaughn's booming voice echoed throughout the room.
"Turn around, slowly, your hands in the air."
The person in front of him slowly turned around, her hands slowly ascending into the air.
"Sydney Bristow," Vaughn breathed, shocked at the woman in front of him. She was more beautiful than the picture that he had seen in the CIA boardroom.
Sydney nearly gasped aloud, surprised he knew her name.
"Open your hands!" an agent screamed at Sydney, with his gun trained on Sark behind her.
"Like this?" she asked, grinning midly. Sydney released her fingers, one at a time, revealing a small cannister that she held in her hand.
"Oops," she said, smirking. "I forgot that I was holding this." The small silver cannister dropped from her hand, hitting the ground with a thud. It rolled gently towards the agents and the man pointing a gun in her face, and let out a long hiss. Gas and smoke suddenly filled the air, and Sydney kicked gun out of his hand.
"Let's go!" she yelled out, running to a through the crowd of fallen and choking CIA agents.
"Shit!"
~.~
Sydney shifted uncomfortably in her seat for the 5th time in a row in less than 60 seconds. Failure of the mission made her terribly miserable, loathing the return to the mansion and her mother. She was taught never to fail and despite all the consequences, she failed non-the-less. Irina had always disciplined her growing up for her mistakes, and after Sydney turned 16, she stopped. Sydney began to discipline her self, forcing her body harder in training. Eventually she never made mistakes, only occasional slip ups, which Sark often compensated for. Sydney sighed softly, pulling her knees closer underneath her body.
"Will you bloody hell stop moving?" Sark demanded, obviously irritated. A woman sitting in the row beside them in the small aircraft shot them a dirty look.
Sydney let out a long uncomfortable sigh, frowning at Sark.
"Ever so sorry, darling," she replied, an a mocking British accent, matching his. She uncrossed her legs, bent down, and pulled out her laptop flipping it open.
Sydney stared at the empty computer screen, waiting for the words to come to her.
"Are you planning to do anything with your laptop, or are you going to stare at it, wishing for the words to magically appear?" Sark whispered in her ear, sending shivers deep down her spine.
"I'm just thinking," Sydney replied coolly, licking her lips and blowing a slow and steady stream of air out. "Would you care to make an input, obviously since you have something to say? How are with writing essays on the complete works of Shakespeare?"
"Why do you study so hard, at whatever you do, even though it will never come into use? Not considering who we work for," Sark asked, lifting an eyebrow. "I would think that it would be absolutely pointless to spend all your time and effort on something that you will never benefit from. And Shakespeare is one of them. "
"Benefit from?" Sydney huffed, tilting her chin higher. "You can never learn too much, Sark. And, for your information, it's English Literature that I'm studying." The tension between the two was building, becoming more evident with each word spoken.
"So, you're just learning and doing all this," Sark continued, waving his hand casually in the air, "all this work for nothing? Just your own pure enjoyment. That's some shitty way to spend your time."
"Yes." Sydney snapped angrily, slamming the laptop shut. She turned to face away from Sark shutting her eyes. The real reason why she continued her education was the hope that she'd one day fulfill her dreams of following in her mother's footsteps of becoming an English Literature Professor, the job her other had before she was exposed to the different side of her mother. One that she wished that she never knew.
~.~
"It was her."
Agent Vaughn's brow furrowed deeper than before. "She was the woman that we saw in the picture. I'm sure a hundred percent sure. She, and her partner were just as shocked to find out that someone had got to the vase before us."
"Why didn't you take her into custody?" Jack Bristow demanded, his voice rising as he spoke each word. His face was bright red, the color extending to the very tips of his ears.
"Because, Agent Bristow, as I stated in the report, that she dropped a smoke bomb, laced with tear gas. We were surprised, and she got away."
Jack Bristow angrily sat back into his seat, disappointed that his chance of being could've been reunited with his daughter had dissipated.
Kendall stood up, clearing his throat, silencing the murmurs that had overtaken the room.
"Well, people, we've got a lot of work to do. Jack has informed us that SD-6 has the vase but also the fact that Sydney Bristow has surfaced, and we know that she's alive, we need to figure out who she's working for, or with. And Rambaldi, we still need to figure him out. Get moving."
~.~
"Sydney! Get up!"
Sydney's eyes snapped open, staring into the icy blue eyes of Sark. She pushed him away from her face, sitting up, pulling the covers towards her.
"What the hell do you want?" she mumbled angrily, pushing her hair out of her face.
"How did he know your name?" Sark asked, staring at her curiously.
"What?"
"The CIA man, who pointed the gun at you, in Florence."
Sydney sat silently gripping her covers tightly around her. She was silenced by the words of Sark that had suddenly dawned over her.
How did he know?
~.~
Irina Derevko sat calmly at the head of the table, with Sydney on her right and Sark on her left. Open in front of her was the ivory folder, containing the report of the mission.
"Sark came to me with information that he remembered, Sydney." Irina's voice cut through the silence of the night, interrupting Sydney's thoughts.
"Now, I've been thinking for the past 10 minutes to offer an explanation as to why the men you encountered knew your name. The only possible explanation is that you've been identified, on a previous mission. As of now, I'm placing you and Sark on temporary leave from work. We need to do further analysis on this situation. We can't risk having you and Sark in the field, risk getting captured or hurt."
Sydney opened her mouth to say something, but quickly shut it after Sark shot her a evil glare.
Irina frowned, catching the silent communications between the two who sat in front of her.
"Perhaps, Sydney, you should go on vacation? Take a rest, a break - you've earned one."
Sydney let out a frustrated sigh. "Sure, mom," she reluctantly agreed, knowing it was pointless to argue against her mother.
Sark smirked at her, knowing that she had been defeated. Standing up and following Sydney out of the meeting room into the dark corridor, he whispered into her ear, softly "Now, now Sydney. Take a break on your vacation. You know she's right. We need to lay low to avoid getting our cover's blown." Shivers slowly crept down her spine, sending a tingling feeling down to the tips of her fingers.
Sark stopped in the middle of the corridor, watching Sydney walk and disappear into the darkness.
~.~
Sydney smiled contently, lying on a large white towel on the sandy beaches of the beach. It had been a week since her mother commanded that her and Sark were to be taken off of active duty. She had boarded the first jet to a warm, sandy destination, eager to leave the coldness of her mother and the dark cloud that shrouded the organization in darkness.
Sydney closed her eyes again, forcefully trying to relax and clear her mind of any thoughts. Despite the warmth of the air, crashing waves, and the salty fresh air, she was having difficulties sleeping. The handsome man who knew her name crept into her dreams every night, leaving her awakened and disturbed every morning. Sydney inhaled slowly, and lifted her hand to shade her eyes from the sun.
Shuffling beside her towel caught her attention, and she tilted her view to see what the commotion was all about. Some children were huddled over something in the sand, screaming and giggling furiously. Sydney smiled at their innocence, saddened that she never had that. A piece of her hair blew into her face, and she absentmindedly brushed it back and tucked it behind her ear.
"Miss Bristow."
Sydney silently groaned, recognizing the familiar voice that had interrupted her thoughts. She turned her head to face the man who had spoken.
"Sark. Fancy meeting you here. What brings you here anyways?" Sydney narrowed her eyes, frustrated at finding Sark settling down on a towel next to her.
"I was just wondering if this spot was taken, that's all," he replied smoothly, grinning.
"Oh, I'm so sure that you were 'just wondering' if the spot was taken." Sydney replied grumpily. "How does it work, that out of all the places in the world to take a vacation, we end up on the same friggin' island?" She flipped herself to lay face down on her towel, propping her head against her arms.
"Your mother actually told me where you were, Sydney, and I thought your vacation destination was a wonderful idea. I'm sorry that I decided to follow you to your vacation, but now that I'm here, I think that I'll be trying to enjoy the rest of my stay here, Sydney. I didn't come here to bother you, as you always assume."
"I never said anything to that effect," Sydney replied curtly, turning her face away from him. Seeing him just made her blood boil, tired of their constant fights, heated discussion and combat training. Since there were partners, they practiced their training together, to synchronize their moves, learn their strengths and weaknesses, and improve on each others skills. It was one of her mother's other marvelous ideas. Sydney froze as she felt her hair being lifted from her neck. A pair of warm hands with cold lotion began to apply the sunscreen lavishly across her shoulders, moving lower down her back.
"What are you doing?" Sydney shrieked, wriggling underneath Sark's powerful hands.
Sark immediately stopped, his hands frozen in mid air. Sydney tilted her head, looking at her own reflection from his mirrored lenses.
"You were starting to get burned, and I thought that I could prevent some serious pain by applying some sunscreen. I was also hoping you'd do the same for me," Sark replied coyly. "Can I continue? Otherwise you're going to tan blotchy."
Sydney frowned, and placed her head on top of her arms. Sark resumed his slow, soothing motions on her back, spreading the cream evenly over her soft skin. His hands slowly returned toward her shoulders, and began a slow massage. Sydney lifted her head to object, but relented as his fingers expertly worked at her tight muscles.
"You're quite tense, Ms. Bristow," Sark said, focusing on her shoulders. "You've got a couple of knots right here." He pressed his thumb and index fingers into her shoulder, causing a sharp pain, followed by a painful but comforting release. He felt her begin to relax, her breathing slow and deep.
Sydney closed her eyes, turning her head to the left, so out of the corner of her eye, she could see Sark's knee in the sand. Sark's hand made it's way to the newly exposed area of muscles, and gently probed the area of tense spots. Sydney let out a soft purr, sending tingles up Sark's spine. Sydney froze. I purred? How did that happen?
Sark stopped his gentle back rub, and lifted his eyebrow in amusement.
"Before you fall asleep, Miss Bristow, I was wondering if you could help me with my back?" He grinned devilishly, holding the bottle in his hand.
Sydney sighed, and reached for the bottle.
~.~
Anna Espinosa angrily attacked the hanging punching bag in front of her, letting out heavy grunts as she continued her non-stop assault of jabs, hooks and upper cuts.
"Anna."
Anna didn't stop at the sound of her name being called. She knew who it was, and she didn't care. A hand reached forward and placed it on her shoulder, causing her to slow down. She stared straight at her, refusing to give in to her inner desire.
"Look at me," the strong voice commanded, forcing her to relent.
She turned around and stared straight into a pair of familiar blue eyes.
~.~
Several hours later, Anna entwined her fingers with her lover, lying on his shoulder. Sark reached out with his free hand, and played with her long brown hair, twirling and untwirling it. Anna breathed in, and let out a deep sigh.
"You aren't still angry, are you love?" Sark asked, shifting his body so he could see her face. Anna frowned, looking away from him. He reached out with one hand, and cupped her face gently.
"I missed you, Anna," he said, pouting at her. She looked into her face, and gave him a knowing glare. Sark frowned even deeper, and gave her his best attempt at puppy eyes. She cracked a smile, playfully pushing his shoulder.
"Like those even work, Sark. That attempt was pitiful."
"Why are you angry?" he asked, frustrated at his constant attempts at pleasing her.
"I'm here, and you're not," Anna said, holding her head high.
"What do you mean?" Sark asked, knowing the full reason as to what she meant.
"Don't play with me, Sark." Anna narrowed her eyes, staring down at him. She grabbed his white oxford, and slipped it over her shoulders.
"Anna," Sark grunted, exasperated at the thought of having another endless argument. "You know we can't help it. Irina wants something, and whatever she wants will be done."
"But a double agent for K-Directorate? Why?" She threw up her hand, emphasizing her words. "I'm miserable here, without you, Sark. Couldn't you simply tell Irina to shove her head up her ass and bring me home? I'm more useful than I am here."
"Anna." Sark's voice brought tingles to her spine. "Irina did us a favor, remember that. Otherwise we would've been orphans living a shitty life in some shit town, so stop your complaining, because it's getting old."
Anna's head whipped around, shocked at his strong words, stinging like a blow to the face.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" she screamed, pounding her fists against his chest as Sark's arms enclosed her. She fought herself free, taking a deeper look at him.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" she repeated again, her voice shaking with fear. "You've never spoken to me like that before, ever Sark." Sark sighed apologetically, opening his mouth to say something. Anna quickly cut him off before he could utter a word.
"You're different Sark. You used to love me, and agree that us being apart wasn't good for us. You've changed." Tears began to roll down her cheeks as she backed slowly away from him, into a corner, sliding down to her knees, pulling the shirt around her tightly.
"All that shit is getting to your head isn't it?"
"Anna, no. Don't start with that bullshit."
"It is, isn't it. Don't deny it. Being Irina's most precious lapdog, working with her daughter has boosted your ego so fucking high. Get off your pedestal and realize what's real!"
Sark knelt down on his knees in front of the shaking woman, her head in her hands, sobbing softly.
"It isn't like that, Anna. We'll be together, I promise. The work that you're doing with K-Directorate, brings us great resources. Don't think that we don't know that, love. And working with Sydney isn't all that special." He froze, regretting his choice of words.
Anna looked up, her eyes wide, filled with tears. He never referred to her as Sydney, but always as Agent Bristow. It dawned on her, a burning feeling filling her stomach.
"You asshole. It's her! You've fallen in love with her!" She pushed his hands away from her shoulders, and rushed past him. Sark angrily grabbed her arm, and pulled her close to him. She pounded her fists violently against him, trying to free herself. She pulled back her right arm, and let a swing connect firmly with his jaw, stunning her captor and throwing him onto the floor.
"Leave, Sark," Anna said darkly, standing over her former lover. "Leave now before I send you back to your bitch in a body bag."
~.~
Anna's eyes narrowed as she watched Sark's figure leaving the hotel building.
Sydney Bristow. Pristine and perfect daughter of criminal mastermind Irina Derevko, working her way into everyone's hearts. Including Sark's. But not hers, not before, not now, not ever. Now sworn enemies.
~.~
a/n (again): I know that this is leaning towards a s/s ship.. but give it time.. our green eyed agent will come around… (but I do, really do love sark.. yum!)