Title: Cravings
Disclaimer: As if I was cool enough to have thought up "Alias!" I wish!
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Sydney/Sark
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Sydney was shocked. The last person she expected to run into at this remote Malibu beach was Jack Bristow. She wondered why in the world he was there – he must have some reason.
Sark looked on in amusement. Best to always be prepared for every eventuality, he thought. He looked Jack straight in the eye.
Jack walked forward, toward the couple. Sark quickly released Sydney from his arms, and she crossed her own arms around her chest, protectively, sitting up ramrod straight on the trunk of Sark's beautiful rental.
Jack looked over the pair. His gaze went from Sydney, to Sark, back to Sydney again. He said nothing and kept his face unreadable as he dissected the scene before him.
Finally, Sark broke the silence, daring and impudent as ever.
"Mr. Bristow. What a pleasure," he said, reaching out and shaking Jack's hand. The response was hardly warm. Jack's hand sat limp in his and then quickly pulled away.
"Syndey, Mr. Sark. There is a problem," Jack said. Sydney was shocked that he did not mention the liaison between the couple that he had witnessed. "It's about your mother."
"Mom?" Sydney asked, shocked. "What is going on?"
"It seems that she has been spotted in Los Angeles, at a hotel on Wilshire. The NSC is staking out the scene, as they are unsure if she has booby trapped the place. Dixon gave me a heads up."
Sydney looked at Sark. This was the second mention of a hotel on Wilshire tonight, and she was getting curious. "You know why she is here, don't you?" she asked Sark.
Sark simply nodded.
"Why?" she asked.
"I'm afraid that's need to know," he said.
Sydney looked at her father. Surely, he would not accept that as an answer, especially when it came to her mother.
But to Sydney's shock, Jack simply nodded back at Sark. Something was going on between her father and Sark, and she had no idea what. It scared her. It was almost like her father approved of her choice of suitors, more than he ever had of Vaughn. She just wished she could know what it was that bound the two together.
Her first guess: Her mother. Irina Derevko had a way of binding everyone together.
She wasn't far off.
"Mr. Sark, I'm afraid that the NSC already has your license plate. Weiss called it in to the CIA after his little encounter with you two, and Lindsay has the phone lines there bugged. You need to ditch this car, immediately."
Sark nodded. He was expecting something of the sort. After all, it seemed inter-agency bickering in the United States government had worked in his favor more than once in the past, and this time it happened to be conspiring against him. He wrapped his arm around Sydney's shaking shoulders protectively. She seemed scared and bewildered, and he wanted to do whatever he could to calm the situation.
Jack began walking toward his car, motioning for the newfound pair to follow.
Sydney looked at Sark, questioningly. But he only put a finger over her mouth, in a motion that promised she would learn more later and then removed it just long enough for his lips to meet hers in a short kiss. His hand stroked her hair and then fell to the small of her back.
"Get in," Jack said. "I hope you're rested. Tonight's going to be a long night."
Rested? Sydney thought. After the evening that she had – getting drunk with Weiss, hooking up with Sark and driving to a remote beach where her father told her that her mother was back in Los Angeles and under NSC observation? Rested? I think not, she thought.
The couple sat in the back of the car, with Jack in the front, driving chauffer style. Sydney put her head on Sark's chest, returning to the comfort she had felt just a few minutes before, prior to her father turning her world upside down once again.
Jack started the car and quickly drove out of the deserted parking lot, with Sark's abandoned BMW left behind. He put his left hand on the steering wheel, and with his right hand he dug into a briefcase on the empty passenger seat.
"Here. Mr. Sark, I think you'll be needing this," he said.
Sydney had her eyes closed, but opened them just far enough to see the object her father had passed to Sark.
It was a gun.
