Uninvited



Once Sydney had finally calmed down, she turned around to face her mother and hugged her, apologizing for her earlier outburst. Irina only sighed into her hair and told her she didn't need to apologize. Sydney pulled back and managed a small smile.

Irina gently pressed her palm to Sydney's red and somewhat swollen cheek where her hand had connected earlier. Sydney winced a little and Irina bit her lip.

"I'm sorry I hit you," Irina said quietly, trying her best to hold Sydney's gaze.

"I deserved it," Sydney said simply.

"No, you didn't," Irina countered.

Sydney opened her mouth to speak, but decided against it, as she knew it might lead to another argument and probably another wave of tears as her world collapsed again. So instead, she hugged her mother again, then left to go upstairs.

She walked rather quickly and untied the robe and discarded it onto a chair when she reached the room. She spotted Sark sitting upright and leaning against the headboard, clad, once again, in his boxers. She found herself grinning at him.

"Hey," she said, walking—no, wait—slinking over to the bed.

Sark raised an eyebrow at her and she stopped, nervously tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear.

"Are those my boxers?" he asked with something of a sly grin.

Sydney returned the sly grin and twisted her hair around her fingers, chewing on her lower lip. Sark looked her up and down, nodding approvingly of what he saw. Sydney blushed under his scrutiny (or did her face flush with arousal?). She caught Sark's gaze and nearly melted at how gorgeous his blue eyes looked, even in the semi-darkness that curtained the room.

She closed the distance that was keeping them apart and laid down on top of Sark, capturing his lips in a brief kiss, then placing kisses along his jaw line and down his neck. She nipped lightly where his pulse was jumping, satisfied at the way she could make his heart race.

"Sydney," Sark began, "we should really start—"

"Yes, we should really start," Sydney said with a chuckle, gently biting his shoulder.

Sark rolled his eyes at Sydney's attempt at adding humor to the situation, then tried again. "Sydney, I'm serious."

"Oh, me too," Sydney said, her voice raspy with arousal, as she slid her hands down Sark's toned arms, then moved down his body, planting kisses on his chest.

"No, Syd—"

"Mmm, I love it when you call me 'Syd,'" Sydney purred.

Sark raised his hands up in defeat. "I give up," he said with a sigh.

Sydney stopped and looked up at him, pouting innocently. "You're no fun."

Just then, Sark caught Sydney off-guard and flipped her onto her back, settling down on top of her and giving her a triumphant grin. Sydney rolled her eyes playfully and rested her arms behind her head, willing Sark to have his way with her. Sark pressed his lips to Sydney's in a soft kiss before mimicking her actions earlier and planting kisses along her jaw line and neck, then nipping at the soft skin where her pulse was beating steadily. He grinned at his ability to make her heart pound at such a quick rate.

Sark worked his way down her body, lifting her shirt up a bit so that he could kiss her stomach. Sydney sighed contentedly, all thoughts of the Sloane plan not going well seemingly absent from her mind. She ran her hands through Sark's hair, moaning softly at Sark's lips on her skin.

"I have a question," she said suddenly, interrupting Sark's perusing of her stomach and lifting his head up so he could meet her gaze.

"Hm?"

Sydney tugged her shirt back down over her stomach and sat up. Sark rolled off of her and laid on his stomach on the mattress, propping his chin up on his fist.

"Assuming our plan goes well—with Sloane—and we think we've retrieved all the information we need, how exactly will we kill him? I mean, were we going to conceal weapons under our clothes, or—"

Sark sighed, causing Sydney to leave her sentence unfinished. "I figured one of us would excuse ourselves and go to an already decided place where a weapon would be ready. Then, when that person comes back, the other two of us will pretend not to notice anything out of the ordinary, and keep Sloane occupied so there are no sudden movements. That person will fire from where he or she is standing."

Sydney tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear. "How should we decide who gets to do it?"

Sark looked away and shrugged a bit. "I'm not sure."

"I'll do it," Sydney said simply. "I think it means the most to me, anyway. With all the pain he's caused myself and my friends, I'd be more than happy to return the favor."

Sark sighed, clearly not entirely comfortable with the idea of Sydney having to go through life knowing that she had murdered someone in cold blood, no matter what the circumstances may have been. Sydney turned to look at him, reading his troubled expression like a book.

"Don't worry about me," she told him with a small smile. "I'm fine with knowing that it is going to be me who will cause Arvin Sloane to take his last breath." She chewed on her lip a bit. "Believe me, I have been thinking about this day for two years."

Sark took one of Sydney's hands in his and squeezed it gently. "What should the signal be?"

"I'll just excuse myself saying I need to use the bathroom, and you and Mom will just have to maintain a calm demeanor so Sloane doesn't suspect anything," Sydney said.

Sark nodded and began to get up from the bed. "We should get dressed, Sloane could be here anytime and we still have to let your mother know about what we plan to do if everything goes well and we can obtain all of the information we need."

Sydney got up as well and went to her suitcase. She pulled out a pair of jeans and a pastel blue top. As Sydney undressed, Sark rifled through his suitcase, looking for something casual to wear.

"I have another question," Sydney began, slipping on a pair of jeans.

"Yes?" Sark asked, pulling on some khakis.

"Would Sloane think to mention the whole deal with Francie? Would he think that you've told me and that I've had time to digest it?"

Sark nodded as he put on a white oxford and began to button it. "He intended the asset to be a large part of his plan. He wanted to be able to manipulate someone in your household for information."

Sydney sighed heavily as she pulled on her shirt. "Manipulate how?"

"Hypnosis," Sark answered, straightening his collar.

Sydney ran a hand through her hair. "Who was the asset supposed to hypnotize?"

Sark looked away for a moment, then turned back to meet Sydney's gaze. "Your friend, Will."

Sydney clenched her hands into fists and ground out, "Was the asset successful?"

"Somewhat," Sark said quietly.

Sydney's hands went to her face as the floodgates opened again. "This needs to end today," she whispered, "Today!"

Sark wrapped his arms around Sydney's waist, and Sydney let her body relax and lean against him. "We'll try our best to end this today," Sark told her, "but if not today, we'll try and end it as soon as possible."

Sydney nodded and dried her eyes, walking away from Sark and shoving her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. "Let's go tell my mother how we're going to handle this."


A while later, everything had been set up. The weapon, a small handgun, was loaded and placed in a drawer of the bathroom closest to the living room, where Sydney, Sark, and Irina would be questioning Sloane. Sydney and Sark had informed Irina of what they had discussed and Irina had agreed.

They left the couch unoccupied and settled into individual chairs. Irina had hidden a small handheld tape recorder under her sweater to record the conversation and deliver the tape to the CIA. She also had Rambaldi's manuscript of his study of the human heart to show Sloane when he arrived. She also planned to tell him that the other Rambaldi artifacts were in a secure location. While not exactly the case, it wasn't far from the truth, as the artifacts were in the CIA's clutches.

The three looked at one another periodically, all of them experiencing a feeling of nervousness in the pits of their stomachs. After today, regardless of whether or not Sloane was eliminated, everything would be different. The three were all quite aware of that fact and were thus a bit apprehensive. Sydney glanced at her mother and Sark and bit her lip, prompting the two of them to ask her what was wrong.

"I just—I'm not sure if—" She sighed and shook her head. "I'm just not so sure that killing Sloane is the answer to everything I've had to go through." She dropped her gaze from Sark and her mother when she saw them exchange glances and sigh heavily.

"Sydney, you should have said something if you weren't completely comfortable with this," Irina said softly, careful to keep an annoyed edge out of her voice for fear of upsetting her daughter further.

"I know," Sydney admitted, "but I thought I would be fine with it. I thought I would just be able to end Sloane's life and go on with mine as if everything had been solved. But, I don't think I can do that."

"What do you suggest we do, then?" Irina asked, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back in her chair.

Sydney looked over at her mother. "What if we were able to tie him up, do something to keep him from leaving, and turn him over to the CIA?"

"That could work," Irina said, nodding.

"So that's what we'll do," Sydney said, feeling the uneasiness in her stomach suddenly subside.

"But," Sark began, "we'll need a plan for when to apprehend him."

"Yes, we'll just do what we planned before," Sydney said. "I'll excuse myself and go get what we need. Then, when I come back, you two will have to either subdue Sloane or hold him in place so that I can tie him up."

"What about when the CIA has him in custody?" Irina asked. "It's likely that they will just execute him, since he didn't—" She paused to swallow the sudden lump that had risen in her throat. "Since he didn't turn himself in to the CIA, wanting to help."

Sydney shrugged, her mother's hesitation sliding off of her easily. "After the CIA has him, I don't care what happens to him. I'll be long gone anyway. I want to get the hell out of this life and be able to just live in peace, without having to worry about what Sloane has planned, or worry about dying in the line of duty. After the CIA has him," Sydney said again, "I'm quitting."

Irina felt a smile cross her lips as her daughter would finally be able to quit like she had wanted Sydney to do. Sark nodded slowly and chewed on his lip. Sydney grinned and glanced over at Sark.

"We'll be able to live without any worries," she told him, reaching for his hand.

Sark squeezed Sydney's hand gently and gave her a lopsided grin. Sydney giggled a bit, the thought of her and Sark being able to just live their lives was so tangible and so close and she was becoming giddy just thinking about it.

"So, do we have handcuffs or rope or something to prevent Sloane from escaping until we can get the CIA to send out a team?" Sydney asked.

"Yes, there are actually handcuffs in the same drawer as the gun, and I believe there's some rope as well. We'll handcuff him first, then go from there," Irina explained.

"All right. Good," Sydney said with a nod. "So we're all set."

Irina nodded and smiled a bit when Sydney did. "Hopefully everything will go smoothly."

"Yeah," Sydney said slowly, "hopefully."

At that moment, there was a light knock on the door. Sydney, Sark, and Irina all exchanged glances with a 'this is it' message in their eyes. Sydney got up from her seat and went to the door, while Sark and Irina stayed put, not wanting to appear conspicuous by crowding around Sydney at the door.

Sydney took a deep breath and glanced over her shoulder for a brief second before turning back to the door and setting her hand upon the doorknob. She nearly jerked her hand back when there was another knock. Gathering up all her courage, Sydney opened the door. Her eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat.

"Oh my God."


Author's Note: Sorry about the delay for this chapter, but I kept having my little dreams about how I should proceed and I think I might have gone off in yet another direction. Ah, yes, thanks to everyone who's been reviewing, I love you guys and I love the feedback;)