Purge



Sark took a moment to study Sydney's face as he mulled over her words. He knew she was sorry and he knew that, right now, it was hard for her to say much more than that. He saw that her eyes seemed to glisten with tears, and that her lower lip was quivering, as she awaited him to make some sort of acknowledgement to her. Finally, he gave her a small nod, and she visibly relaxed.

Sydney inhaled sharply and closed the distance between them. Her hands were immediately in his hair as she melded her lips to his in a strong, forceful kiss. She pulled back, breathless, and almost roughly pushed him onto the bed.

She climbed on top of him, finding his mouth with hers again and running her hands over his chest. Her legs squeezed his thighs as she leaned forward and began kissing his neck and chest. Sark's arms stayed at his sides, and Sydney was thankful that he wasn't trying to take control. She needed to do this, she needed to purge her guilt for not trusting him, for thinking that he could betray her when he was so very much in love with her.

Tears sprang into her eyes at that thought—Sark being in love with her—but she forced herself not to surrender to them. She chanced a glance into Sark's eyes and saw Sark staring back at her, complete submission etched into them. She took a deep breath, let her eyes flutter closed, and planted her lips on Sark's.

She stripped quickly as she let her mouth trail along his jaw line, down his neck, and across his chest. She shed the last article of clothing she had been wearing, and moved back a bit so that she could pull off Sark's boxers. She tossed them to the floor and ran her fingers over Sark's chest and stomach before moving into position above him, and lowering herself down onto him little by little.

They both let out small groans before Sydney started to move, slowly at first, then gradually picking up speed. She arched her back, feeling new sensations deep inside as she did so. She gasped and moved faster.

She leaned forward a little so she could look at Sark rather than stare almost blankly at the ceiling, her mind having been cleared of any rational thought long ago. She reached for his hands and he automatically lifted his arms toward her. She thread her fingers through his as she continued to move, the pace almost frenzied now.

She cried out and her thighs tightened around Sark's legs and her hands gripped Sark's hands tightly as her inner muscles contracted almost violently as she climaxed. She whispered Sark's name as she relaxed, then felt his body become rigid beneath her as he reached his release. His mouth opened to say her name, but Sydney's lips had already covered his.

Sydney breathed heavily as she rose up, almost reluctant to break contact. She heaved a sigh as she settled onto her back beside Sark, still trying to catch her breath. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sark gazing at her, watching her with some sort of admiration and wonder, and she gripped one of his hands and held it against her chest, over her heart. She turned her head to look at him and smiled a bit.

"Do you remember when I told you that I was afraid something would come between us?" Sydney asked quietly.

Sark nodded and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, then brought her hand up to his mouth and placed a tender kiss upon it.

Sydney dropped her gaze from Sark's eyes. "I never would have guessed that it would be me."

"Sydney, don't," Sark said firmly. "We're fine."

"Are we?" Sydney asked timidly, forcing herself to meet Sark's gaze.

"Yes," Sark assured her.

Sydney nodded slowly and swallowed, then looked away from Sark, still holding his hand in hers. Sark sighed heavily.

"Sydney, look, we both have fault in this. I left without a word, causing you undue stress, and you brought on my leaving because you didn't trust me. Neither one of us made wise choices, but it's over now," Sark said. "It's over." He used his free hand to lift Sydney's chin up and leaned his head down to brush his lips over hers.

"I love you," Sydney told him, looking him in the eye.

"I love you too," Sark said, accepting the kiss she offered.

Sydney moved closer to him and pulled the sheets up over the both of them. She rested her head on Sark's chest and her heart fluttered when Sark kissed her hair and pulled her closer.

"So what exactly is the plan here?" she asked. "What exactly is going to happen with Sloane?"

"He's coming sometime today," Sark told her.

Sydney visibly stiffened and her eyes widened. "Today?" she asked in disbelief.

Sark nodded. "All three of us will talk to him when he gets here."

Sydney narrowed her eyes and swallowed hard as she sat up, holding the sheet close to her. "Even me? How is that even going to work? 'Oh look Sloane, we recruited Sydney Bristow,' is that what you're going to say?"

Sark sat up and peered into Sydney's eyes. "Sloane and I talked yesterday on the phone. I fabricated a story about me pretending to be in love with you to recruit you to his operation and he—reluctantly—believed it. I told him that you would be here when he arrived."

Sydney took a deep breath. "What if he asks me questions to which I don't have the answers?"

"Like what?" Sark asked, arching an eyebrow.

Sydney shook her head. "I don't know, but—" She sighed and changed the subject. "Okay, so you said that you told him you pretended to fall in love with me to get me to trust you so that I would betray the CIA and come to be involved in Sloane's operation—"

"Yes," Sark interjected, "which means you'll probably have to be sure that you hang on my every word when he's here, as well as grab me now and then for gratuitous kisses."

Sydney had to laugh. "I don't see why I would have a problem with that even if Sloane had nothing to do with it."

Sark grinned at her and rested his palm on Sydney's cheek as he melded his lips to hers. "So, basically, you just pretend to look interested and ask any questions that will help us obtain whatever information we can about Sloane's operation."

"How will we determine when it's time for us to just stop the interrogation and blow his head off?" Sydney asked pointedly.

"Sydney, we have to be very careful," Sark said, "plus, cold-blooded murder is—" He stopped himself, realizing that Sydney would probably have some choice words about him and cold-blooded murder.

"I know, Andrew, but with everything he's done, all the pain he's caused myself and my friends, I could care less about murdering him in cold blood," Sydney said venomously.

Sark grasped Sydney's hand and squeezed it tightly and was relieved when Sydney lay down again and snuggled close to his body. He stretched an arm across the pillows and let his fingers dance upon Sydney's shoulder as she curved her body against his, her head buried securely in his neck. Sark's other hand rested its fingers on Sydney's hip, then slid up her side, sending shivers down her spine. The tips of Sark's fingers crawled across the flat plane of Sydney's stomach and Sydney reached her hands up to twist her fingers around the curls at the nape of Sark's neck. She pulled Sark's head down to allow easy access to his mouth, upon which she laid a gentle kiss. Sydney pulled back and bit her lip, prompting Sark to ask her what was wrong.

"Nothing," she assured him. "But, you and I, we're okay, right? I mean—"

"Yes," Sark said a laugh, "we're perfectly fine, Syd."

Sydney smiled broadly and her heart did a flip-flop in her chest at Sark's use of the nickname that her friends used when they spoke to her. When her friends said it, she never really noticed, it was just what they called her. When Sark said it, however, Sydney felt as if Sark had completely been ingrained within her, that he had become comfortable enough with her that he could use a pet name when he spoke to her. It was as if he didn't feel the need to be as formal as he had been using her full first name. She giggled a bit.

Sark grinned at her and ran a hand through her hair, twisting his fingers around the ends. "What's so funny?" he asked her, a laugh escaping his lips.

Sydney just grinned back at him for a moment, contemplating his last action as well—the laugh. She loved the way it sounded because it was gentle and soft, but at the same time deep enough so that Sydney felt like Sark was letting himself go for a brief moment, allowing himself to be completely open with her.

Tears sprang into her eyes, but despite them, she smiled. She kissed him again, her lips soft against his, relishing just how lucky she was to be with Sark. He was obviously the kind of person who only permitted himself to be truly open and vulnerable with someone he trusted, someone he loved and who loved him. She hadn't realized that until now and she mentally kicked herself for not seeing it before. So many things had had to happen for her to be aware of it.

She had to first fall in love with Sark.

She had to begin to trust him.

She had to lose all of her trust in him because of an almost childish reasoning that led her to believe he would betray her.

She had to break up with him and almost sleep with Vaughn.

She had to journey all the way to Tuscany to win back his heart.

The word 'hindsight' popped into her head at that moment and she found herself smiling again as she slid her hands along his back and began to pull him down on top of her.

Sark gazed into her eyes, somehow sensing that Sydney was looking at him in a new light and seeing just how much he really loved her and totally regretting the decisions she had made. He had already forgiven her and he was sure she knew that, but it still pained him to believe that she might not. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers in a long, deep kiss. When he pulled back, her eyes were shining and he smiled, finding relief in what seemed to be a new understanding.

Capturing her mouth with his once again, Sark slipped inside, the key having finally found its lock.