Sydney considered herself lucky as the bullet had only grazed her leg. She reached for her gun and took out a lackey of Sloane's who was aiming at her to try and shoot again.
Irina and Sark worked to take out the other men. Vaughn had just come out of the bathroom with his comm link when he saw the scene before him. Without hesitation, he aimed his rifle and sprayed a stream of shells at Sloane's henchmen.
Sydney sat up, clutching her leg and groaning. Her mother and Sark had rushed to her side and Vaughn was creeping slowly into the living room to check for any stragglers. He found none, and went over to Sydney as well.
"Guys, I'm okay," Sydney protested.
"No, you're not, Sydney," Irina told her, beginning to bandage Sydney's leg with her sweater.
Sydney all but slapped her mother's hands away. "You need to get Sloane before he escapes completely."
"Sloane's not important right now," Irina said calmly.
Sydney clenched her teeth. "Mom, we've worked so hard to get to this point, and Sloane is not going to slip through our fingers now."
Irina looked up at her. Sydney just stared back. Then—
"Screw it, I'm going." Sydney jumped to her feet and ran out of the house, working off of pure adrenaline.
Sloane had gotten into the car he had arrived in and was starting to drive away. Sydney drew her gun and aimed at his back tires. One exploded, sending Sloane's car into a tailspin that he couldn't control and allowing Sydney to catch up to him.
She stood in front of his car, looking at him peering at her through his windshield. "Get out of the car," she commanded, "now."
Sloane just sneered at her and stayed put. Sydney tried again, and still, Sloane refused to move. Sydney didn't turn around when she heard footsteps behind her. She knew to whom the footsteps belonged.
She heard voices behind Sloane's car and saw at least a dozen CIA officers armed and ready and poised behind bushes and trees. Sydney leveled her pistol at Sloane.
"Don't do it, Agent Bristow," one of the CIA agents said firmly.
Sydney pulled back the hammer.
"I repeat—don't shoot," the agent said again.
Sydney ignored him and kept her attention focused on Sloane. She growled, "Get. Out. Of. The. Car."
After a few seconds of deafening silence, Sloane calmly stepped out of the car and stood with his hands in front of him looking much too amused for Sydney's tastes. She steadied her gun. Sloane just smiled.
"Going to kill me, Sydney?"
Sydney just stared, her eyes cold, hard, full of anger and ferocity.
"Go on," he taunted. "Pull the trigger."
Sydney inched her finger ever closer to the trigger but she didn't shoot just yet.
"Ah," Sloane mused, "you're having second thoughts. Understandable, considering cold-blooded murder is more my forte, not yours."
"Second thoughts?" Sydney scoffed. "The only kind of thoughts I'm having involve how insanely happy I'll be when I see the bullet hole between your eyes."
Sloane narrowed his eyes at her, then shook his head. "You won't do it, Sydney. You don't have it in you. You're not a murderer."
"You're right," Sydney conceded, nodding. "Remember when I told you about the CIA most-wanted list?"
Sloane laughed ruefully. "How could I forget?"
Sydney smirked. "You're no longer on it." She squeezed the trigger.
Sloane was knocked back and, after teetering for a few moments, he fell backwards, dead. Sydney exhaled, and the world around her seemed to move in slow-motion. The CIA agents came to gather up Sloane's body and Irina, Sark, and Vaughn all walked over to Sydney to see if she was all right.
Sydney just nodded, then her bad leg gave out and she found herself in Sark's arms as he carried her to the van parked near some of the other agents.
A while later, Sydney awoke in a hospital in Los Angeles with her parents, Sark, and Vaughn all hovering around her. Reality sunk in almost instantly—she had killed Sloane. She thought it might send chills down her spine, knowing that she had been responsible—but there were none. Instead, she just felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. The "plague on her life" as she had called him once, was gone forever—
And Sydney couldn't be happier.
She rubbed her eyes and yawned a bit, then smiled at all of them. "Hey."
Her parents nodded and Vaughn and Sark both replied, "Hey."
Sydney sat up. "I'm assuming Kendall wants a full report on exactly what the hell happened in Tuscany."
"Already taken care of," Vaughn assured her.
Sydney cocked an eyebrow. "Really?" Everyone nodded. "So no bloodshed or anything?"
Irina smiled. "Kendall was less than pleased with the way we went about everything, but all in all, the meeting went very well."
Sydney had to ask the obvious question. "So what happens now?"
Irina, Jack, Sark, and Vaughn all exchanged glances. Jack spoke. "Your mother and Sark will go through an extensive debrief to confirm the information they have given us as well as their loyalties. After that, they'll both be hired into the Agency."
Sydney grinned and sighed with relief. "That's really great to hear."
The four murmured their agreement.
"So," Sydney began after a moment, "when do I get to go home?"
That night, Sydney was hobbling into her apartment on crutches. Sark was behind her, watching her like a hawk in case she stumbled. She didn't, and Sark closed the door behind the both of them.
Will came into the living room and saw Sydney standing by the couch. He went to her and wrapped her up in a hug. When he pulled back, he said, "Kendall briefed me. I'm so glad you're all right and that everything went well."
Sydney smiled a bit, then asked seriously, "You didn't get in trouble or anything, did you?"
"No, no, of course not," Will told her, and smiled at the relieved look on Sydney's face. "Hey um, do you want something? I can—"
"I'm actually kind of tired," Sydney confessed, "I think I'm just going to go to bed."
"All right," Will said with a nod. "I'll talk to you two later." He went into the kitchen and dug around in the refrigerator.
"'Night Will," Sydney said, and started making her way to her bedroom.
"'Night Syd."
Sark chimed in, "'Night Will."
"'Night Sark."
Sydney reached her bedroom and limped into the room and over to her bed. She flopped down on the mattress on her back and put her arms behind her head as she closed her eyes. She was half-asleep when she felt Sark's mouth hot on her neck.
"Not tonight, Andrew," she mumbled, but moaned when Sark began to suck lightly on her flesh. She didn't move as Sark continued, kissing his way down her neck to the beginning of her chest exposed above her shirt.
Sark whisked her shirt away, pressing kisses to Sydney's stomach and palming both of her breasts. He moved his hands down and slid off Sydney's pants, then her panties, and kissed her down below, making Sydney elicit a soft moan. He moved back up, kissing Sydney's stomach again and lifting her bra so he could flick his tongue over her nipples.
Sydney reached down and unzipped Sark's pants and Sark shimmied out of them and kicked them onto the floor. His boxers followed the same pattern. Sark ran his fingers over the bandage around Sydney's leg, then planted a soft kiss on Sydney's mouth as he sheathed himself inside of her.
He went slow, careful to avoid injuring Sydney's leg further. After a bit, Sydney's nails raked down his back and he took that as a hint to go a bit faster. He reached down between them, pressed his thumb against her. Sydney tilted her head back then, her eyes shut tight, and Sark felt her muscles clenching around him and he found release inside of her.
Sydney held Sark close, their bodies pressed firmly against one another as she sifted her fingers through his hair. Sark lifted his head up and kissed her, and after a few moments, they separated. Sydney curled herself into Sark's side, closing her eyes when his arms went around her.
"It's finally over," she whispered.
"Yeah," Sark whispered back, stroking Sydney's hair.
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
They kissed.
Sydney bit her lip. "How do you think the debrief will go for you and my mother?"
"I'm sure it'll go all right for the both of us, seeing as we have nothing to hide." Sark smiled and smoothed his thumb over Sydney's cheekbone.
"Good," Sydney murmured, and took Sark's face in her hands as she kissed him. Slowly, she rolled over on top of Sark and sat up, straddling him. She touched the bandage on her leg and showed no signs of being in any agony.
Sark folded his arms behind his head. "I have to give you credit. You have a much higher tolerance for pain than I thought."
Sydney barely touched her lips to his and whispered, "You have no idea."
A/N: Finalement! C'est fini! WHOO! Hee, I'm so happy that I finally finished this thing. I honestly can't remember what it feels like to have finished a story because it's been so damn long, rofl;x
So anyways, it's done. Yaaaay. Go read 'Scars.' And 'Wild.' Please?;x And if you're already following those, send me nasty e-mails telling me to update. Or not you know whatever Heeeee I'm all giddy. WHEE!
*hugs for everyone who stuck with me on this* Y'all rock.
~E