Short part, less banter.  Authors' notes come first because I always get gloomy when they are at the end.  I start reading fics, look at the scroll bar and think, wow, the fic is long!  But then I realize the bottom 75%  is like the authors' notes to people who aren't me.  Sadness.

Webmistress Eh: Interesting name you have there!  Wouldn't you just love to see someone try to card Sark?  And I agree about being cold exhausting.

Nimbolina: Thank you!  I did go to the Unoffical DA Board, I've been there before chasing down i_got_jack's_back fic and I applied for a membership but I haven't got one yet so I can't post.  If you like, you can put it up for me.  It's a lot of cutting and pasting though so don't worry about saying no!

Lux1: I know what you mean about find fic here at ff.net, it's like looking for a grail.  Fanforum?  That's wild, I used to live over there.  I've never been to the Alias boards --I lived at Fanfiction and the Roswell boards-- but maybe I can stop by?  I'm way flattered that someone rec'd me!  Hubris?  Hey, watch it, or I'll pull hamartia out of someone.  And I definitely *will* tell you if I hear about a Sarkino fic.

sallene I'd love to be in Sark's naughty thoughts.  Yum...

Fanatic482I love your reviews!  They're so detailed and I love to see what people thought was good as opposed to what I liked.  Sometimes it coincides and sometimes it doesn't. 

serenity sea I left an fb at your story, "Gone."  Loved it!  And thank you for double-reviewing, it makes me wanna write.

939597: Dark side?  What dark side?

screen names are tacky: I could you swear you reviewed it before, too.  Thanks for catching that numbering for me, I fixed it.

Ossian: I'm pretty impressed with myself, too.  No, no!  Kidding!  The Ego has left the building.  Um, the story hit me (literally) about two minutes after the episode aired and it wouldn't let go until I wrote it.

Cristabel, dizzy izzy, annie, Sarkoholic, leonsalanna, Vaughn+Sydney, carmensandiego1, cjgurl, Fashiondiva, Mnemosyne, macaroon, mdemanatee: Thanks for the reviews!  I'll keep going as long as I can.  Oh, and Sark in leather -I definitely put that in clause in with a visual picture in mind.  And I plan (insomuch as I'm planning anything...) to have Leather!Sark in the fic at some point.

The demon story continues

"Where are my socks?"

"Well, hello, Sydney.  Why, yes, I did manage to pick up your favorite local cheese and a nice madeira.  I know, I know, I am wonderful.  And pastry?  I have fresh pasteles from Carvalho, the coconut ones you order every time we visit.  How ever did I remember?"  Sark put his brown-paper wrapped packages down onto the carved bench in the vestibule.  "Please, Sydney, don't be so effusive in your welcome and appreciation.  Honey, don't gush."

"Thank you for doing the shopping," Sydney grit her teeth.  "Now, where the hell are my socks?"

"They had holes, I put them in the rag bin," He offered her a cloth bag.  "Here, I purchased replacements.  One hundred per cent cotton."

"You!"  Sydney threw her hands up in frustration.  "I wanted to work out!  I had my whole day planned."

"You were welcome to borrow a pair of my socks," Sark said magnanimously.  "I wouldn't have minded and they would have been a close fit."

He sat on the wooden bench to remove his shoes while she stalked the length of the room.

"What are you talking about?  Your feet are huge.  They practically honk you're so deformed.  Are you calling my feet big?"  Sydney took a short breath.  "And why are you so sure they would have fit?  Have you been borrowing my socks?"

"Yes.  The pink stripe down the toe?  It makes me feel all confident and manly.  Adds a whole new level to my game."

Sydney laughed and sat down beside him, "I guess I could be overreacting."  She bit her lip, "But I doubt it."

"No comment," Sark said but handed her a packet.  "Have a biscuit."

"Promise to spar later?"  She asked, holding the warm pastry gingerly.

"You, in the verboten lycra?  I would not dream of missing such an opportunity," Sark answered, leaning forward to steal a bite before she could pull her hand away.

"Hey," she complained.  "That's mine.  Get your own."

"I would have, but I didn't have time.  I had hoped to be home before you awoke."

"Why," Sydney asked gracelessly while taking a bite.

"Hold a second, you've crumbs," Sark passed his fingers along her jaw to sweep away the pastry flakes.  "Funny, but I can't quite remember why.  Thoughts of thanking you for last night's massage with your favorite foods?  And perhaps something to do with an aubade?  Foolish plan, I realize now, but I was hoping to make the massages a nightly custom.  Also, perhaps to extend to body parts besides my shoulders..."

"Are you trying to condition me?"

"No, Sydney, I'm likening you to a canine.  You usually pick these things up faster."

Sydney blushed.  "I'm just nervous, you know?  About tomorrow."

"The operation will go fine.  We've done all we can remotely, we need to place our surveillance equipment in the Covenant's building.  That's all.  A simple op." 

"Do you realize my last few missions have gone hideously?  The one in Paris, the Covenant set-up?  Everyone but Weiss was massacred.  And I'm sure you remember New Mexico.  It wasn't enough to be sabotaged by terrorists, we had to be blocked by our own government. "

"Your government," he corrected.  "No government of mine would have bollixed so thoroughly.  And it didn't go so badly for me, considering." Sark continued in a restful, soothing tone.  "Besides, tomorrow, you'll be with me and you know how good I am."

Sydney snorted rudely.

"That is what I want to hear.  In all seriousness, you have to be aware of how well we collaborate.  I've worked with many people but have never before achieved the rapport you and I have.  We are quite capable separately, together..."

"You're so full of yourself, Sark."

"One of us has to be," he answered and attempted to steal another bite of Sydney's pastry but she moved it out of his reach.

Standing, she brushed the crumbs from her pants and grabbed her new socks.  "I left an omelette in the kitchen, if you're interested.  I'm off."

"You're leaving me to put away the groceries?"  Sark pouted, "But I did the shopping.  By all rights, you should put away the groceries."

"Should've put it in the prenup."  She punched him on the cheek playfully, "Don't be grumpy, Sark.  Join me in a few hours?"

He didn't grab her hand to hold it, only looked into her eyes and held her gaze.  He broke their contact, grinning cheekily, "You just be ready for me."

***

When Sark arrived in their basement gymnasium, he was disappointed to find Sydney clad in sweatpants instead of spandex.  She had the gym set up for weapons training so he waited until she was reloading to tap her on the shoulder.

She removed her ear plugs and pushed the button to send the target towards them.  She nudged Sark to look.

"Nice spread," he commented.  "I like the new 9mm.  I think I'll carry one tomorrow."

He caught her look and murmured, "Just in case."

She hefted her gun carefully.  "I'm not sure if I like how much lighter a Glock 22 is now.  I like my guns sturdy and I don't think I have the hang of the recoil yet."

"Overcompensating?"

"Yeah."

"Perhaps if you stand like this," Sark moved his legs apart.

"Hmm," Sydney pursed her lips.  "I've never been a fan of guns."

"I'd rather you carry one just the same."  He moved to stand behind her, and brought his hand up to hers.  "Let me show you."

Sydney tacitly accepted his assistance by letting him guide the movements of her body.  Together they brought up the gun.  His breath sent warm vibrations along her ear and down the column of her neck.

"Just so," he whispered as they squeezed the trigger.

The shot went straight through the heart.

Sark let their arms down, and finally released her hand.  He stepped away, "Did you get that?"

There was a breath before Sydney answered, "I think I did."

She put the gun down and turned to face him, "I need to go call my father.  He wants a meeting.  Soon."

"I'll take care of your weapon."  Sark pursed his lips thoughtfully, "Only your father?"

"Yes," Sydney said.  "And he wants you there."

"I'd insist upon it in any case."  He cocked his head to the side, "Can you put him off until Switzerland?  I want us moved out of here as soon after the op as possible."

Sydney nodded, "I think I'm going to turn in.  I'll take supper in my room and get some decent sleep.  Four o'clock tomorrow?"

"Bright and early," Sark confirmed.  "You bring the ski masks, I'll bring the unmarked car."

He watched her walk up the short flight of stairs, strain written into her every movement.  When her hand touched the doorknob, he called out, "Sydney, be sure to send the Spy Daddy my love!"

He heard her light giggle float down before leaving him alone with the guns.

TBC