Reunion



The plane had touched down and the majority of the people had already exited the plane. Somehow, though, Sydney had managed to sleep through it all and had to be awakened by a flight attendant.

She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and looked at the seats next to her, finding them vacated by the grandmother and her grandson. She smiled to herself as she stood up and opened the overhead compartment easily lifting the heavy suitcase out of it and onto the floor.

She recalled the woman's advice, to just throw herself on Sark, letting him see her overwhelming desire for him and let him draw his own conclusions, until, Sydney decided, she was able to really talk to him.

Sydney picked the suitcase up by its handle and carried it rather than rolled it as she walked out of the plane and into the airport. She retrieved her rental car—a Ford Focus, of course—and set off on her journey to Sloane's villa.

She checked her watch as she drove and found that it was after eight in the morning. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, vaguely recognizing the scenery around her. She kept the car in fifth gear practically the whole way, wanting to get to the villa as fast as she could.

When she finally arrived though, it felt like an eternity had passed. She wasn't completely sure why, but she figured it was her high level of anticipation. She climbed out of the car, hauling her suitcase over to the driver's seat. As soon as she had stepped out of the car, she was enveloped in warmth, and only a small portion of it had to do with the day being hot already.

She shivered as tremors coursed through her body and went straight to her center. She felt her muscles involuntarily contracting ever so slightly but enough to begin to drive her insane with desire. Her entire body throbbed as she opened up the suitcase and retrieved a small lock pick. She wanted to enter the house on her own terms. Knocking was conspicuous and wouldn't allow her the advantage of surprise.

Not that her mother or Sark should be surprised.

If she was completely correct about their plan, they should be expecting her to show. She pocketed the lock pick and zipped up the suitcase. She silently closed the door of the Focus, pocketing the keys to the vehicle. She slowly started making her way up the walk, padding silently, and carrying the suitcase by its handle.

Her lips were quivering when she reached the door. She swallowed hard and set down the suitcase as she reached a hand into her pocket for the lock pick. With trembling hands, she somehow managed to unlock the door and not cause a commotion.

She unzipped a small outer pocket of the suitcase and dropped the lock pick in it, then zipped it back up. She peered inside after pushing the door open just slightly. She grasped her suitcase and walked inside, composing herself, and putting in place a mask of pure loathing and distrust. She wanted to make her mother and Sark crumple just a bit, just so she would know that they felt guilty for leaving without a word.

Silently, she closed the door and stood in the foyer she had stood in just a few days before. She cast a sidelong glance towards the kitchen, then let her gaze travel up the stairs to the second floor. She sighed a little and dropped the suitcase on the floor with a resounding thud.

She waited.

She stared straight ahead, waiting for someone to be disturbed by the unexpected noise and come running. She finally heard someone's footsteps coming from her left. She looked that way, towards the kitchen, and saw her mother walking towards her then stopping about a few yards away.

Sydney felt the façade she had in place slipping, but still managed to fix her mother with something of a cold stare. Her lips formed a thin line, her chin was raised in a defiant air, and her eyes reflected both anger and several questions that she knew she couldn't ask aloud.

Did you expect me to come?

Did you do this to rid the world of Arvin Sloane once and for all?

Did the plan involve keeping me safe and eventually allowing me to trust you again?

Irina answered the questions evident in her daughter's eyes with a simple nod, her eyes beginning to fill with tears. She stood rigid, even though her instincts were telling her to close the distance between herself and her daughter and wrap Sydney up in a hug and cry into her shoulder.

Sydney needed to respond now, and it didn't matter how she did it. Her response, whether spoken or not, had to show Irina that she understood and that she was forgiving of her.

At that instant, Sydney's lips parted and they quivered slightly as tears began to fill her eyes. She pressed her lips together quickly to keep them from shaking and the action caused a tear in the already way past full ducts of her eyes to drop onto her cheek.

Irina's eyes followed the tear down and that was it. She walked swiftly towards her daughter, arms outstretched, and Sydney walked right into the embrace. Irina held her tightly, small sobs escaping from the back of her throat. Sydney felt the floodgates open and she cried openly, sobs tearing from her.

She was so relieved to find that she didn't have to worry anymore about her mother possibly betraying her or that her mother would ever try to hurt her. She planted her forehead firmly in the crook of her mother's neck, and felt her mother's cheek nuzzle her hair.

Neither one spoke as they held each other. The embrace said more than words ever could. Finally, Sydney pulled back and gazed into her mother's eyes.

"I have to go talk to Andrew," she said quietly, her voice wavering.

Irina nodded and used her thumbs to wipe away the tears on Sydney's cheeks. She reached behind Sydney's head and stroked her hair gently then pulled her head forward slightly so that she could kiss her forehead. Sydney smiled at this and Irina smiled back, albeit weakly, wanting to just pull Sydney back into her arms and hold her forever, just so Sydney would be able to see that she intended to protect her for as long as she lived. Instead, she simply rubbed Sydney's arms, starting at her shoulders, which she gently squeezed, then trailing down to her hands, which she squeezed as well.

Sydney smiled again and gave her mother another hug, sighing with relief as she did so. She stepped back and wiped her eyes then picked up her suitcase and began to make her way up the stairs to the room in which Sark was staying.

She looked around briefly once she reached the second floor, finally deciding that the room with the closed door was probably the one Sark had picked. So, with a heavy sigh that made her shudder, she began to walk in the direction of it.

Her steps were light, as she figured Sark was probably still sleeping and she didn't want him to wake prematurely. She finally reached his room and gently laid a hand on the doorknob.

Her grip on the suitcase was slipping from the cold sweat that had broken out on her palms. She set the suitcase down briefly and wiped both of her hands haphazardly on her pants. She picked up the suitcase again and found that her arousal had returned. That alone would make it much easier for what she planned to do. She laid a trembling hand back on the doorknob and nearly jerked her hand back from the tremors that shot through her body when she made contact with the handle.

Her body throbbing, her center tingling, and her lips quivering, she slowly opened the door. The sight inside the room made her heart skip a beat and her breath catch in her throat.

Sark was laying on his side, his legs obviously curled underneath the sheets that were pulled up to his chin. His breathing was regular and his mouth formed something between a smile and a relaxed frown. A smile tugged at Sydney's mouth.

God he looks so gorgeous.

Sydney stood watching him for a few more moments before gently setting her suitcase down and closing the door. As she had pretty much expected, Sark awoke. She bit her lip a little as Sark sat up, allowing Sydney a nice view of his muscled chest and washboard stomach in the semi-darkness that shrouded the room.

The curtains were closed, so practically no light was shining through, plus, Sydney had shut the door, cutting off the light that would have entered the room from the hallway. It didn't matter though, Sydney wanted the illusion of night. She only wanted Sark to just barely see her, she wasn't completely ready to be fully exposed with him in a strictly metaphorical sense. She would let him in slowly, then she would be comfortable.

Sark gazed at her, his eyelids still heavy from sleep, and Sydney once again felt her breath catch in her throat at the adorable sight. Slowly, Sark stood up, and Sydney saw that he was just clad in a pair of boxers, which, she decided, would also make it easier for her to execute her plan.

The two stood looking at each other, Sydney rooted to her place by the door, Sark similarly planted in his spot by the bed. Sydney knew he was waiting for her to say something, so she mustered up all the courage inside of her to speak. Her voice almost cracked when she opened her mouth.

"I'm sorry."