3
She wasn't surprised to see who the intruder was. "What the hell do you want?" She spit, venomously, keeping her gun trained on him.
"Now, now, Sydney." Sark was standing alone in front of the window, his back to her. "I thought after keeping my silence about your true identity down there, you would be a bit more receptive to an after hours meeting." With that ever-present smirk of his, he faced her and his eyes ticked to the gun aimed at his head. "Apparently, I thought wrong."
"I asked you a question."
Sark chuckled. He raised his hand, absent-mindedly rubbing the back of his shorn hair, although Sydney highly doubted that he ever did anything absent-mindedly. He crossed to a nearby leather armchair and sat. "I have a proposition for you. I believe that we are both in positions to be of some assistance to each other."
"And why, exactly, would I ever."
"Because," Sark interrupted, "as it stands, it does seem that I have a bit of leverage against you. You could refuse my proposal right now, and I could just as quickly inform Mr. Walker of who you really are." He paused for a moment, and his eyes flashed. "Believe me, Sydney, he won't hesitate to kill you."
Sydney's mind flashed back to earlier that evening, the memory of Simon on top of her, the blade of his knife biting into her throat. "If you lie to me again, I will kill you!" he had yelled. Sydney didn't doubt that he would have, no matter how great their sex life had apparently been. She moved forward and sat on the end of the bed; her gun still aimed at Sark. She waited for him to continue.
Sark offered a bemused smile before going on. "As I'm sure the CIA knows, I recently inherited a large sum of money, due to the untimely death of my father. $800 million in gold bullion to be exact. However, the Covenant promptly relieved me of my inheritance as penance for murdering Antony San'ko, as well as in exchange for my extraction from CIA custody." He leaned forward in the chair, resting his arms on his knees. "I'd like it back."
"How am I going to help you with that?" Sydney asked.
"By helping me to destroy the Covenant." He replied simply. "Surely this is the CIA's ultimate goal, in any case. I doubt the destruction of an enemy organization will cause you any. moral dilemmas."
Sydney glared. "You said you were in a position to help me."
"Yes, well, in exchange, besides keeping your true identity secret," Sark paused meaningfully, "I shall do everything I can to help you uncover information of where you've been for the last two years."
Sydney sat in silence before replying. Striking a deal, a partnership, with Sark would be dangerous at best, but what else could she do? The bastard had her backed into a corner. She didn't doubt that Sark would blow her cover as soon as she refused, and although the idea of working with Sark again panicked her to her core, Sydney was willing to accept almost any help offered to recover her lost years. Sydney searched Sark's eyes for some kind of tell, some sign of deceit, but there was nothing, only icy coolness gazing back at her. She sighed and lowered her gun, laying it on the bed next to her. "I don't really have a choice, do I?"
"Of course you do, Sydney." Sark said sincerely, leaning back in the chair. "You always have a choice."
"Some fucking choice, Sark." Sydney snapped. "Either work with you, a hired assassin responsible for the death of my best friend and who will very likely kill me when I'm no longer useful, or have my throat slit open by Simon."
"As I said, you have a choice." Sydney rolled her eyes. He continued, "And for the record, I have no intentions of killing you, Sydney."
"Right. Because you've never tried it before." She spat back.
"I assure you, if I'd ever really tried to kill you, you would be dead."
"You're pretty confident in your abilities."
"I have reason to be." He replied simply.
Sydney was silent, her cheeks burning with anger and irritation. "Fine." She said finally. "You just remember, Sark. You burn me."
" 'I burn you.' " Sark interrupted, chuckling. "You've said that before. Really, Sydney, you should come up with more original threats."
Sydney was about to tell him to fuck off when a series of beeps from Sark's watch sounded. "I placed a motion sensor in the corridor." Sark explained. " Someone is approaching your room." They both stood.
"Probably Simon, looking to pick up where he left off." She visibly shuddered.
"I can help you with that as well, if you'd like." Sark said with an odd sort of smile.
"How can." Sydney was cut off as he stepped forward and kissed her roughly, one hand tangling in her hair, as the other snaked around her waist and pulled her tightly against his body. She barely had a chance to recognize what Sark was doing when the door to the bedroom swung open. She broke away, her breath heavy, and turned to see Simon in the doorway, looking quite shocked. "Simon, dear, ever hear of knocking?" She said.
"Sorry, babe," he half-laughed, "I didn't realized you'd have company." He looked at Sark, whose eyes never left Sydney. His arm was still holding her against him. "I also didn't realize you two knew each other. so well."
"Julia and I go back quite a few years." Sark replied, his hand running up her back and stroking her bare arm, his eyes still locked on Sydney's face. Sydney felt a tingle fire up her spine, and she tried to ignore it.
"Oh?" Simon raised an eyebrow. "You never mentioned."
"I'm not in the habit of sharing my personal life with employees, Mr. Walker." Sark glared darkly at Simon for a moment, then looked back at Sydney. "I have a meeting that I must attend. I'll be in touch."
Still too dazed to know how to reply, Sydney flashed him a bright smile. Sark seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, and Sydney's smile faltered as he leaned in to kiss her again. His lips captured hers, and it was a much softer kiss than the first. What the hell are you doing? Sydney's mind screamed at him. She was unable to do anything but part her lips and let Sark's tongue slip inside her mouth, lest Simon's suspicions be raised. He tasted of marinara sauce and wine. His tongue entwined with hers, stroking and teasing the inside of her mouth. Just as Sydney felt her knees begin to weaken, Sark pulled away, gave her a wink, and made his way to the door. "Have a good evening, Mr. Walker." He said as he passed Simon.
"Will do, Mr. Sark." Simon said, watching Sydney as she ran her hands through her hair and crossed over to the window, needing to get some air. Simon eyed her, half-amused, half-suspicious. "So, Julia. What's all this, then?"
"What's all what, Simon?" she sighed, with her back still facing him.
Simon laughed as he entered the room, and he stretched out on the bed, head propped up on his hand. "Don't play coy with me, Julia. What's the deal with you and Sark?"
Sydney turned to face him, leaning against the windowsill. "He's someone I knew from a long time ago. We had a very. complicated relationship."
"Why didn't you mention him before?"
Sydney cocked her head and smiled slyly. "Are we in the habit of discussing our relationships, Simon? Former or present?"
"Good point." Simon said as he hauled himself up and crawled toward the side of the bed nearest Sydney. He got up and moved towards her, his head dipping down to kiss her. Sydney moved her face away, causing Simon to stop. He searched her eyes for a moment. "Ah, it's like that then, is it?" he asked.
"Yeah. It's like that." Sydney replied, moving past him. "Sark's a very possessive man, Simon. You don't want to be sniffing around what he considers to be his."
"Are you?"
"His?" Sydney asked.
"Yes."
She smiled. "For the most part."
She wasn't surprised to see who the intruder was. "What the hell do you want?" She spit, venomously, keeping her gun trained on him.
"Now, now, Sydney." Sark was standing alone in front of the window, his back to her. "I thought after keeping my silence about your true identity down there, you would be a bit more receptive to an after hours meeting." With that ever-present smirk of his, he faced her and his eyes ticked to the gun aimed at his head. "Apparently, I thought wrong."
"I asked you a question."
Sark chuckled. He raised his hand, absent-mindedly rubbing the back of his shorn hair, although Sydney highly doubted that he ever did anything absent-mindedly. He crossed to a nearby leather armchair and sat. "I have a proposition for you. I believe that we are both in positions to be of some assistance to each other."
"And why, exactly, would I ever."
"Because," Sark interrupted, "as it stands, it does seem that I have a bit of leverage against you. You could refuse my proposal right now, and I could just as quickly inform Mr. Walker of who you really are." He paused for a moment, and his eyes flashed. "Believe me, Sydney, he won't hesitate to kill you."
Sydney's mind flashed back to earlier that evening, the memory of Simon on top of her, the blade of his knife biting into her throat. "If you lie to me again, I will kill you!" he had yelled. Sydney didn't doubt that he would have, no matter how great their sex life had apparently been. She moved forward and sat on the end of the bed; her gun still aimed at Sark. She waited for him to continue.
Sark offered a bemused smile before going on. "As I'm sure the CIA knows, I recently inherited a large sum of money, due to the untimely death of my father. $800 million in gold bullion to be exact. However, the Covenant promptly relieved me of my inheritance as penance for murdering Antony San'ko, as well as in exchange for my extraction from CIA custody." He leaned forward in the chair, resting his arms on his knees. "I'd like it back."
"How am I going to help you with that?" Sydney asked.
"By helping me to destroy the Covenant." He replied simply. "Surely this is the CIA's ultimate goal, in any case. I doubt the destruction of an enemy organization will cause you any. moral dilemmas."
Sydney glared. "You said you were in a position to help me."
"Yes, well, in exchange, besides keeping your true identity secret," Sark paused meaningfully, "I shall do everything I can to help you uncover information of where you've been for the last two years."
Sydney sat in silence before replying. Striking a deal, a partnership, with Sark would be dangerous at best, but what else could she do? The bastard had her backed into a corner. She didn't doubt that Sark would blow her cover as soon as she refused, and although the idea of working with Sark again panicked her to her core, Sydney was willing to accept almost any help offered to recover her lost years. Sydney searched Sark's eyes for some kind of tell, some sign of deceit, but there was nothing, only icy coolness gazing back at her. She sighed and lowered her gun, laying it on the bed next to her. "I don't really have a choice, do I?"
"Of course you do, Sydney." Sark said sincerely, leaning back in the chair. "You always have a choice."
"Some fucking choice, Sark." Sydney snapped. "Either work with you, a hired assassin responsible for the death of my best friend and who will very likely kill me when I'm no longer useful, or have my throat slit open by Simon."
"As I said, you have a choice." Sydney rolled her eyes. He continued, "And for the record, I have no intentions of killing you, Sydney."
"Right. Because you've never tried it before." She spat back.
"I assure you, if I'd ever really tried to kill you, you would be dead."
"You're pretty confident in your abilities."
"I have reason to be." He replied simply.
Sydney was silent, her cheeks burning with anger and irritation. "Fine." She said finally. "You just remember, Sark. You burn me."
" 'I burn you.' " Sark interrupted, chuckling. "You've said that before. Really, Sydney, you should come up with more original threats."
Sydney was about to tell him to fuck off when a series of beeps from Sark's watch sounded. "I placed a motion sensor in the corridor." Sark explained. " Someone is approaching your room." They both stood.
"Probably Simon, looking to pick up where he left off." She visibly shuddered.
"I can help you with that as well, if you'd like." Sark said with an odd sort of smile.
"How can." Sydney was cut off as he stepped forward and kissed her roughly, one hand tangling in her hair, as the other snaked around her waist and pulled her tightly against his body. She barely had a chance to recognize what Sark was doing when the door to the bedroom swung open. She broke away, her breath heavy, and turned to see Simon in the doorway, looking quite shocked. "Simon, dear, ever hear of knocking?" She said.
"Sorry, babe," he half-laughed, "I didn't realized you'd have company." He looked at Sark, whose eyes never left Sydney. His arm was still holding her against him. "I also didn't realize you two knew each other. so well."
"Julia and I go back quite a few years." Sark replied, his hand running up her back and stroking her bare arm, his eyes still locked on Sydney's face. Sydney felt a tingle fire up her spine, and she tried to ignore it.
"Oh?" Simon raised an eyebrow. "You never mentioned."
"I'm not in the habit of sharing my personal life with employees, Mr. Walker." Sark glared darkly at Simon for a moment, then looked back at Sydney. "I have a meeting that I must attend. I'll be in touch."
Still too dazed to know how to reply, Sydney flashed him a bright smile. Sark seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, and Sydney's smile faltered as he leaned in to kiss her again. His lips captured hers, and it was a much softer kiss than the first. What the hell are you doing? Sydney's mind screamed at him. She was unable to do anything but part her lips and let Sark's tongue slip inside her mouth, lest Simon's suspicions be raised. He tasted of marinara sauce and wine. His tongue entwined with hers, stroking and teasing the inside of her mouth. Just as Sydney felt her knees begin to weaken, Sark pulled away, gave her a wink, and made his way to the door. "Have a good evening, Mr. Walker." He said as he passed Simon.
"Will do, Mr. Sark." Simon said, watching Sydney as she ran her hands through her hair and crossed over to the window, needing to get some air. Simon eyed her, half-amused, half-suspicious. "So, Julia. What's all this, then?"
"What's all what, Simon?" she sighed, with her back still facing him.
Simon laughed as he entered the room, and he stretched out on the bed, head propped up on his hand. "Don't play coy with me, Julia. What's the deal with you and Sark?"
Sydney turned to face him, leaning against the windowsill. "He's someone I knew from a long time ago. We had a very. complicated relationship."
"Why didn't you mention him before?"
Sydney cocked her head and smiled slyly. "Are we in the habit of discussing our relationships, Simon? Former or present?"
"Good point." Simon said as he hauled himself up and crawled toward the side of the bed nearest Sydney. He got up and moved towards her, his head dipping down to kiss her. Sydney moved her face away, causing Simon to stop. He searched her eyes for a moment. "Ah, it's like that then, is it?" he asked.
"Yeah. It's like that." Sydney replied, moving past him. "Sark's a very possessive man, Simon. You don't want to be sniffing around what he considers to be his."
"Are you?"
"His?" Sydney asked.
"Yes."
She smiled. "For the most part."
