Sark lay awake, thinking. The rest of the meal had been spent in silence. Sydney had been lost in thought, obviously upset by what he had told her. He was sure that of all the things she had imagined, him being involved in the prophecy was not one of them. Hell, he hadn't even imagined it. He was growing more irritated with Irina by the moment. He had been working with her for 13 years, and hadn't a clue that this was coming. Damn her. She could have trusted him. He had certainly proven that to her over the years. He needed to get his mind off of this damn prophecy. It was going to drive him mad. He felt sympathy for Sydney, who had to deal with much of the same thing.
He got up from the bed and crossed to his window. The moon was shining, casting a shadowy glow over the room. The woman sleeping in the room down the hall now occupied his mind. He wondered if she was sleeping peacefully. She had seemed so tired after they had eaten, retiring to bed almost immediately. What was going on in her head?
Sydney had said 'Good Night' to Aidan and quietly went to her room. She didn't know how much of what he had said was true. She didn't want to believe any of it, but his voice rang of truth as he spoke. She wasn't ready to believe that her mother was only doing what she thought was needed. She couldn't. But, for now, she was willing to try to understand. She didn't really have much of a choice; since she was here, and this was the only step she knew that she could take to regain her memory and herself. She realized that she was much more tired than she had thought as she snuggled down in the soft covers. As she drifted off to sleep she couldn't help but think that she felt safe with Aidan a few rooms away. Was he sleeping peacefully?
Soon after drifting off, the nightmare started. It was much like it had been before.
Sydney was running. She could hardly catch her breath. She saw Sloane this time.
"You can't run from your destiny, Sydney, you have to face it," said Sloane.
She looked right and left. There was no way out. Aidan appeared in front of her.
"This way, Sydney. I can help you," Aidan said.
This time she answered him. "There is no way to help me. I have to do what he wants. It's my destiny." She stopped running and turned to face Sloane.
"No, Sydney. You're wrong. You make your own destiny. I'll help you," said Aidan.
Sloane was coming nearer. He was reaching for her, trying to pull her towards him. She knew that if she succumbed, the fate would be worse than death. Sloane was near her now. She couldn't breathe. It was almost as if she were suffocating. She tried to break free, but couldn't move. It was as if she were immobilized. "HELP ME AIDAN! " she screamed.
Sark was still lost in thought when he heard her screaming. He ran down the hallway; gun in hand, thinking that somehow, someone had found them. He was shocked to see that Sydney was alone in her bed, writhing, and reaching her hands out. She was obviously having a nightmare. He instantly put his gun down and moved toward the bed.
"HELP ME, AIDAN! HELP ME… PLEASE!!!!"
Sydney's voice held such misery. He didn't know quite what to do. He had no experience with this, having been alone most of his life. No one had comforted him after a bad dream since his mother had died. He let his instincts take over as he moved to take the distraught Sydney into his arms. "Shhh. Shhh Sydney. It's a bad dream, that's all, " he said as he smoothed her rumpled hair. She instantly calmed down, but she was still shaking. "It's ok now. I'm here." He gently rocked her back and forth. It was amazing how wonderful she felt in his arms. She fit perfectly. He placed a gentle kiss on her head. He marveled at how this woman was able to bring out the tender side of him. He thought that it had disappeared long ago.
Sydney awoke to a pair of strong, warm arms, and a soothing voice, telling her that everything would be ok. For a moment, she just let herself be held, relishing in the comfort it gave her. She found herself looking into sapphire blue eyes, and she realized who it was and quickly shrugged his arms away. She sat up, straightening her bed covers and tucking her hair behind her ears. "Aidan, what are you doing here?" she tried to sound irritated as she shivered, remembering her dream. She tried to get her heart rate to slow down, but it sped up again as she remembered the blue eyes and shivered again, but for a different reason. He seemed to be looking right into her soul.
Sark stood up, picking up his gun, examining it as if it were the most important thing in the world. "Sydney, you were screaming in your sleep. You scared the living hell out of me. I thought you were being attacked. You're lucky I didn't come in here shooting." Sark frowned, a bit bothered by the fact that she had pulled away so quickly. Why should it bother him? He had just been trying to calm her down. For a moment, he thought she had wanted him to. "I was just trying to quiet you before you woke up everyone within a 10 mile radius. Then we would have been in a fix." He finally brought his eyes up to look at her.
Sydney avoided his gaze as she tried to think of the last thing that had happened in her dream. Her stomach sank as she realized that she had been calling to him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. It was only another nightmare." She tried to shrug it off as if it was of no importance and that he was overreacting for something so small.
Sark ran his hand through his hair and sighed. "There's no need for an apology, Sydney. I wasn't asleep anyway." Everyone, including seasoned spies, had nightmares once in while. God knows he had his share of them. "You were screaming for me, Sydney. You were begging me to help you."
Sydney's mind raced. What was she supposed to say? "Again, I'm sorry for disturbing you." She hoped that he would drop the subject, but knew that he wouldn't as she saw the determined look on his face.
Sark switched on the light by the nightstand and sat down in the chair next to the bed, looking at her. "With nightmares, it is best if you talk about them, to keep them from occurring again. Since I don't fancy running in here every night, I suggest that you start talking."
"I don't have to tell you a damn think, Sark." Sydney retorted angrily, eyes flashing.
Sark regarded her calmly. "If I am in your dreams, I think I have a right to know what they are about." He put a half smile on his lips to show her that he was trying to make light of the situation.
Sydney sighed thinking that maybe he was right. Besides, it would be nice to have someone to listen. "It was about Sloane," She found herself saying. "He was trying to force me into fulfilling my destiny, the prophecy. I couldn't run, I couldn't breathe." She shivered again as she remembered the feeling of panic at not being able to move.
"Sydney, you're wrong. You make your own destiny. You should know that by now." Getting her to talk was getting easier. Was she beginning to trust him? "Why were you calling to me, Sydney?" He wanted her to answer. He wanted to know if she really wanted him to help her.
Sydney gasped. He had said almost the same thing in her dream. "You were there. You said you could help me. I wanted to give in, but you wouldn't let me." It was bad enough to have a nightmare, without having to admit to him that he was trying to help her. She waited for a cutting remark from him. It didn't come, and she looked up at him.
Sark looked at her with something akin to amazement. "I see." He couldn't help but wonder how she felt about it. She had seemed irritated at first, but she seemed to have calmed down a bit. "Just remember Sydney that I am here to help you." He wanted her to know that, to have trust in him.
She couldn't help but notice the gentle tone of his voice, and the caring look on his face. It was so nice to know that someone was looking out for her, even if it was Aidan. She was beginning to think that it wasn't so bad after all. "I'm alright now." These nightmares came often now, and they were very unsettling to her. She wasn't about to admit that she didn't really want him to leave, even though it was a comfort to have him there.
"If you insist, Sydney." She was certainly stubborn, he thought. But, so was he. It would be fun to see who would win this battle. "I'll say good night again then. I will see you in the morning."
"Aidan?" Sydney said questioningly. She was quiet for a moment, as he looked at her, his blue eyes curious. "Thank you. For comforting me, that is." She felt that she owed him that much, but stumbled a bit over the words.
Sark stood up and walked to the door. He stood looking at her for a moment. "You are always welcome, Sydney." He walked slowly back to his room. It was as if he were awaking to the fact that he was lonely. She seemed to make him want more than his solitary life. He couldn't help but think that it would be nice to not go to bed alone. Would she comfort him if he were having a nightmare?
Sydney lay there thinking. Aidan mystified her. How could someone that she had thought was so cold and uncaring be so gentle? She admitted to herself that she wished that his arms were still around her. Was it wrong to be glad that he was there to help her? What would it be like to be sheltered in those arms every night?
The morning came early for the two, having got very little sleep.
Sark thought about the night before as he showered. He wondered that why, of all people, Sydney was dreaming of him. Though she wouldn't admit it to him, she was obviously having thoughts about him. "Well, at least I'm not the only one", he murmured to himself. After a quick shave, he pulled on a casual shirt and jeans, leaving his feet bare as he padded down the carpeted hallway. Sydney was not in her room and the bed was neatly made. He made his way downstairs to see her curled up on the couch in the library, cup of coffee in hand, reading a book.
"Hello," Sydney said. "I see you finally woke up." She felt awkward about last night, but played it off like it was nothing. The memory of his arms around her and his gentleness was something that she didn't want to dwell on right now. "I found your library. I must say that I'm impressed. I didn't picture you as an Emily Bronte fan." She said, referring to the copy of Wuthering Heights that she was reading. She had picked it because it had been one of her mother's favorites.
"It was my mother's." Sark said. "I didn't want to part with any of her books, so I added them to my collection. I have read it though, and I have to say, I am in great sympathy with Heathcliff." He admitted. Why was he telling her this?
"Yes, you would be," said Sydney. She put the book down, now at a loss for something to say. She fidgeted with her coffee cup.
Sark was immediately aware that she was uncomfortable, so he tried to lighten the mood. "I'm going to get some coffee. Want a refresh?" He wondered why he wanted her to feel at ease, when usually he liked nettling her.
"That would be nice," she said, handing him her near empty cup. She stared at his retreating form. She noticed how the shirt clung to his upper body, defining the sleek muscles on the arms that had held her the night before. His hair was damp and curled up against the nape of his neck. She would tell him that the faded jeans suited him more than the starched suits, but he was already cocky enough.
As he returned, she got up and walked to the window. "So, what do we do now?"
Sark eyed her trim form outlined against the bright window. He had to admit that he liked what he saw. "Well, you said that you would like to see the country in the day light," he half-joked, never expecting her to take him up on the offer.
Sydney turned around, looking at him thoughtfully. "You know, I think that is a good idea. We could both use some fresh air." Now why on earth would she say that? Did she actually want to spend time with him?
Well, well, thought Sark. This just got more appealing. "Alright. You might want to grab a jacket, it's chilly outside in the morning." Now he sounded like a parent. What was it about her that evoked such a protective feeling?
"You know, I am a big girl," said Sydney, laughing. "I do know when I need a jacket. You're the one running around in bare feet," she teased him. Wait. When did she get comfortable enough to tease him? Today would certainly be interesting.
"Touché." She was full of surprises this morning. She was joking with him almost as if…well, as if she was his on more intimate terms with him. Yes, this day would definitely be an interesting one. He couldn't help but hope that Irina wouldn't make an appearance until tomorrow.