6
They arrived in Milan with the sun just beginning to make its descent towards the horizon. Sark and Sydney made their way to the front entrance, where a black, nondescript van awaited them. Sark pulled open the side door, deposited his and Sydney's bags and helped her into the vehicle. He shut the door behind them.
Sydney grinned at the man already sitting and waiting for their arrival. "Hi, Weiss."
"Hey, Syd. How was your flight?" he asked, flashing her a smile back.
"Long." She replied, rolling her eyes.
"Everything's. um," Weiss glanced over at Sark, who was leaning towards the driver and giving him directions to a hotel, "is everything all right?"
"Everything's fine" Sydney reassured him. She was grateful to have someone else to talk to for a while. Sark had slept for the rest of the flight, and she kept herself busy pretending not to notice how his body slumped gradually towards hers, his warmth sending small shivers over her skin. She would have woken him, but she was reluctant, for she knew he needed all the sleep he could get. At least, that's what she told herself.
Sark turned towards the two of them as the van began to move, and his eyes narrowed as they fell on Weiss. He seemed to be sizing the other man up. Weiss extended his hand, saying in a firm voice "Hi. I'm Eric Weiss, Sydney's partner."
Sark nodded and shook his hand. "Sark." He replied simply.
After an awkward pause, Sydney broke the tension. "So, what have you got for me?"
"Just the standard set of transmitter earrings." Weiss said. "At least, I think that's what they are. Marshall's a little hard to understand sometimes."
Sydney laughed as Weiss handed her a small case. She opened it and smiled approvingly. "They're pretty." She held them out for Sark to see, who quirked a small smile as well.
For the entirety of the drive to the hotel, Sark was silent as he listened to Sydney go over the details of the night's operation one more time with Weiss. He watched as she laughed and smiled while she talked to Weiss. Each time their eyes connected, Sydney felt her breath hitch in her throat and her pulse quicken.
At last, they arrived at the Hotel Windsor. Weiss placed a hand on Sydney's shoulder as she moved to exit the vehicle. "Hey," he said with a gentle smile, "good luck tonight."
"Thanks. I'll see you later." She replied. Sydney climbed out of the van and followed Sark into the hotel lobby.
They made their way to the front desk, surrounded by tourists and businessmen and women. "Ho una prenotazione." Sark said to the young girl behind the desk. Sydney couldn't contain a smile, as the girl looked him over appreciatively.
She blushed and smiled brightly at Sark. "Certo. Che รจ il suo nome, il suo signore?"
"Laurence."
Minutes later, Sark and Sydney took the elevator up to their floor and Sark opened the door to the room. It was spacious and bright, large windows with views of the city let in every ounce of sunlight possible. There was a sitting area, with chairs and a sofa, and a desk that faced into the room. Off to the side, in a separate room, was the largest, most inviting bed Sydney had ever seen. Sark saw her stare at it longingly and said, "Of course, you may have the bed tonight." He set about unpacking his luggage.
"Thanks." Sydney said quietly. She carried her suitcase into the bedroom and laid it on the bed. She looked at the clock, noting that they had a few hours before the charity gala, as she pulled out the gown she had packed. She moved back to the doorway. "I'm actually kind of hungry. Do you want anything from room service?" she asked.
Sark looked up, a bit surprised. "Actually, I was going to go downstairs to the restaurant."
"Oh." Sydney replied. "Okay." She started to turn away, but halted as he spoke again.
"You're welcome to join me."
The invitation hung between them for a moment, until finally Sydney smiled.
****
"Thank you." Sydney said to the waiter as he finished filling her glass with wine. She picked it up and relished in feeling the wine wash over her lips, flow over her tongue and slide down her throat. She noticed that Sark hadn't taken his eyes from her since they had been seated. "It's good." She said.
"It's always been a favourite of mine." He replied, his gaze unwavering.
They made small talk, filled with awkward pauses, as they waited for their meals. Nothing of importance, really. They spoke of previous trips to Milan and the different places they had been within the city, though they each left out details for obvious reasons. The absurdity of the situation struck Sydney as plates were placed in front of them, and she chuckled to herself. "What is it?" Sark asked.
"If someone had told me two years ago that I would one night be sharing a civilized dinner with you, I would have told them they were insane." Sark smiled at this, and began eating his meal.
They were nearly done eating when Sark's phone gave a sharp trill. "Yes?" He said into it. There was a pause as he listened to the caller. "And everything's in order?" He motioned for the waiter to bring the bill. "Good. We'll meet you in the lobby in one hour." He snapped the phone shut and placed it back in his pocket. "That was Simon. He and Russet have the cameras set up at the museum so they'll be able to let us know Biryukov's exact location."
"I guess we should go get ready."
****
Sydney stepped from the shower, and wrapped herself in one of the cozy white robes provided by the hotel. She padded through the sitting area on her way to the bedroom. "Bathroom's all yours." She said as she passed Sark. She closed the bedroom door behind her.
Sydney pulled out the small travel hairdryer she had brought with her from her suitcase and plugged it in. She dried her thick hair as best and as fast as she could. When she shut it off, she could hear the shower running in the bathroom. As she took out her curling iron and crossed to the full-length mirror, she tried not to think of Sark, standing under the hot spray, water streaming down his lean body.
She shook her head, and chastised herself for being so foolish. She proceeded to curl the ends of her hair, and reminded herself of the multiple reasons she had to hate Sark. She put down the iron, and twisted her hair up. He's a wanted assassin. She grabbed a box of hairpins and pinned her hair to the back of her head. He had a hand in Francie's murder. She pulled out a few tendrils so that some grazed her neck, and others framed her face. He kidnapped Will and had him tortured. She moisturized and powdered her face. She swept eyeshadow the colour of smoke across her lids and dabbed some clear gloss on her lips. He is an arrogant, impudent pain in the ass.
Sydney let her robe drop to the floor, slid into a black slip and took her gown from its garment bag. It was made of jewel-red satin, and it fastened around the neck, with the neckline dipping just low enough to show off her cleavage. She stepped into it, slipping the gown up and over her hips, which it hugged perfectly before dropping straight to the floor. She strapped on a pair of stiletto-heeled sandals, and opened the case that Weiss had given to her. She admired the earrings again before putting them on. They were silver, and dangled delicately from her lobes. A small, ruby- like stone hung from each of them. Sydney smiled, appreciating the extra effort Marshall had put in by matching them to her dress. She stood in front of the mirror once again, and admired her reflection. She dabbed a small amount of her perfume on her wrists and her neck. Satisfied, she crossed to the door and pulled it open.
Sark turned to face her as she exited the bedroom. He looked fantastic as usual, having put on one of his trademark suits, black from the shoes to his tie. What wasn't usual, though, was the look of absolute astonishment that flashed upon his face for the briefest moment. He composed himself before Sydney could really enjoy it, however, and said stiffly "Are you ready?"
"Yes." Replied Sydney, the smallest trace of a smirk playing on her lips. He opened the door, stepping aside to allow her to lead the way. She could feel his eyes burning over her skin.
They stepped out of the elevator, and made their way through the lobby. Sydney spotted Simon and Russet seated in some chairs set off to the side. As she and Sark approached, Simon glanced up and his lips curled into a delighted grin. His eyes ran over Sydney lasciviously, drinking her in from head to toe. Russet turned in his chair, and his mouth fell agape as his eyes rested on her.
"Hello, boys." Sydney breathed as they stood.
"Julia," Simon said in a voice filled with awe and lust, "you. you look incredible."
"Thanks." She replied with a smile, as she glanced sidelong at Sark. His face, as usual, was a mask. "Shall we go?"
"Yes, let's." Sark replied, turning on his heel and striding ahead of them. Sydney exchanged an amused look with Simon as they followed him to the front entrance, where Sark had arranged for a limousine to take he and Sydney to the museum. Simon and Russet were to follow in a van.
They rode in silence, the tension so palpable Sydney felt she was breathing it in, and could feel it move through her blood. At last they arrived, and the driver came around to open her door, and helped her out. She paused in front of the museum entrance and took a deep breath. Sark looked at her questioningly. "Are you prepared for this?" He asked.
Sydney flashed him a brilliant smile and said in a posh British accent. "Of course I am, darling." Her head was in the game now. As they walked into the museum, she felt Sark move his hand up her back to rest on the curve of her shoulder, pulling her towards him. The feel of his skin on hers shocked like electricity, and she tried to keep her breath steady. They moved along the hall, smiling graciously to anyone who happened to look their way, until they reached a corner where there stood a statue. They circled it, pretending to admire the artwork, while they surveyed the crowd and searched for Biryukov. "Any sign of him?" she said lowly.
"Not yet."
A middle-aged man approached them. "Are you interested in this particular piece?" he asked as he smiled warmly at them.
"Yes." Sark replied. "I'm looking to add to my personal collection. What can you tell me about this?"
As the man began speaking with Sark, Sydney's cell phone rang from inside her small handbag. She pulled it out and answered. "Hello?"
"We've got Biryukov making his way into the museum." Simon said. "Wait a moment, and you should be able to spot him."
"That's fantastic." Sydney said loudly, and grinned. "Thomas will be very happy to hear that." She switched off the phone, and turned to Sark, who had stopped to listen to her. "Darling, that was Mr. Millings. He said the shipment we were expecting just came in."
Sark smiled back. "Wonderful." He resumed speaking with the older gentleman. Sydney peered around them until she finally spotted the man that matched the photograph Sark had shown her earlier.
"I'm just going to pop over to the ladies room." She said to Sark. "If I'm not back in ten minutes, come find me, will you? You know how susceptible I am to impulse buys." She smiled charmingly at the other man, who smiled back.
"Of course, love." Sark replied leaning over to her to grace her cheek with a light kiss. Sydney flushed slightly and turned to follow Biryukov. She paused to grab two glasses of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter. She deftly turned the fake wedding ring Sark had given her and flicked the stone open, revealing a small compartment. She emptied the powdered sedative into one of the glasses, and swirled it until the sedative was dissolved. Biryukov had stopped, and he now stood admiring one of the museum's many paintings. She sauntered up to his side and gazed up at the painting, as she handed him a glass. He smiled in surprise as his eyes rested on her. "Beautiful, isn't it?" Sydney breathed.
"Yes." He said, still gazing down at her.
"My name's Sarah."
"Yuri." He raised his glass in appreciation. "Thank you." Sydney smiled up at him as he took a deep drink from the glass.
She flirted with him for a few minutes, until she noticed he began to sway on the spot, and his speech slurred slightly. "Are you all right?" She asked, feigning concern.
"I am suddenly not feeling so well." He replied, as he swallowed hard.
"Here," she said, "let me help you to a seat." She wrapped her arm around his waist and guided him towards the men's washroom. They entered, and fortunately the room was empty. As soon as Sydney shut the door behind them, Biryukov lost consciousness and slid to the floor in a heap. Sydney pulled out a pair of latex gloves from her purse and quickly went to work.
After extracting the computer chip, she disposed of the bloodied gloves and left Biryukov slumped against the wall. She rushed to the door, tugged it open and knocked right into a man who was on his way into the room. He stared at her, confused. "Um, this is the men's room right?"
Sydney pulled the door shut, and stumbled into the man, forcing him back. "Do you know?" she slurred. "I think I've had a few too many drinks. I walked into the wrong washroom." She laughed as though this was the funniest thing to have ever happened to her. "Where is the ladies room?"
The man smiled, slightly amused. "It's just down the hall, miss."
"Thank you." She hiccuped, as she stumbled past him. She looked back to see him enter the washroom, and then broke into a run. Moments later, she heard the man shout out "Hey! Somebody help! Stop that girl!"
She slipped through the crowd as fast as she could, making her way back to Sark. He was still talking to the same man. She ran up, grabbed his hand, and pulled him after her, saying breathlessly "Time to go, sweetheart. Pressing matters are at hand." She started to make her way towards the front entrance, but spotted security guards weaving through the crowd. She and Sark turned and ran deeper into the museum, with the shouts of people trailing after them. Finally, Sark spotted a fire exit and quickly pulled Sydney through it after him.
They were plunged into darkness as the door slammed closed behind them, and they were left in an empty alley. Sark pulled out his phone and dialed. "Walker, I need you to bring the van round to the back alley of the museum." A pause. "Perfect." He re-pocketed the phone, and turned to Sydney. "Did you get the chip?"
"Of course." Sydney snapped, to which Sark replied with a smirk. The alley was long, and provided little cover, save for a garbage bin a bit further away from the exit. They ran towards it, then hid on the further side of it. No sooner had they taken cover, then they heard the door to the alley swing open. Sydney's eyes grew wide, and she looked up at Sark, whose brow was furrowed in irritation. He glanced around at their surroundings, and then his eyes rested on Sydney. He bit his lip, repressing the smile that crept over his mouth.
"What?" Sydney whispered savagely, failing to see the humour in their situation.
"I know I'm risking another slap in the face for this, but." He broke off as he backed her into the wall and his lips crashed into hers.
They arrived in Milan with the sun just beginning to make its descent towards the horizon. Sark and Sydney made their way to the front entrance, where a black, nondescript van awaited them. Sark pulled open the side door, deposited his and Sydney's bags and helped her into the vehicle. He shut the door behind them.
Sydney grinned at the man already sitting and waiting for their arrival. "Hi, Weiss."
"Hey, Syd. How was your flight?" he asked, flashing her a smile back.
"Long." She replied, rolling her eyes.
"Everything's. um," Weiss glanced over at Sark, who was leaning towards the driver and giving him directions to a hotel, "is everything all right?"
"Everything's fine" Sydney reassured him. She was grateful to have someone else to talk to for a while. Sark had slept for the rest of the flight, and she kept herself busy pretending not to notice how his body slumped gradually towards hers, his warmth sending small shivers over her skin. She would have woken him, but she was reluctant, for she knew he needed all the sleep he could get. At least, that's what she told herself.
Sark turned towards the two of them as the van began to move, and his eyes narrowed as they fell on Weiss. He seemed to be sizing the other man up. Weiss extended his hand, saying in a firm voice "Hi. I'm Eric Weiss, Sydney's partner."
Sark nodded and shook his hand. "Sark." He replied simply.
After an awkward pause, Sydney broke the tension. "So, what have you got for me?"
"Just the standard set of transmitter earrings." Weiss said. "At least, I think that's what they are. Marshall's a little hard to understand sometimes."
Sydney laughed as Weiss handed her a small case. She opened it and smiled approvingly. "They're pretty." She held them out for Sark to see, who quirked a small smile as well.
For the entirety of the drive to the hotel, Sark was silent as he listened to Sydney go over the details of the night's operation one more time with Weiss. He watched as she laughed and smiled while she talked to Weiss. Each time their eyes connected, Sydney felt her breath hitch in her throat and her pulse quicken.
At last, they arrived at the Hotel Windsor. Weiss placed a hand on Sydney's shoulder as she moved to exit the vehicle. "Hey," he said with a gentle smile, "good luck tonight."
"Thanks. I'll see you later." She replied. Sydney climbed out of the van and followed Sark into the hotel lobby.
They made their way to the front desk, surrounded by tourists and businessmen and women. "Ho una prenotazione." Sark said to the young girl behind the desk. Sydney couldn't contain a smile, as the girl looked him over appreciatively.
She blushed and smiled brightly at Sark. "Certo. Che รจ il suo nome, il suo signore?"
"Laurence."
Minutes later, Sark and Sydney took the elevator up to their floor and Sark opened the door to the room. It was spacious and bright, large windows with views of the city let in every ounce of sunlight possible. There was a sitting area, with chairs and a sofa, and a desk that faced into the room. Off to the side, in a separate room, was the largest, most inviting bed Sydney had ever seen. Sark saw her stare at it longingly and said, "Of course, you may have the bed tonight." He set about unpacking his luggage.
"Thanks." Sydney said quietly. She carried her suitcase into the bedroom and laid it on the bed. She looked at the clock, noting that they had a few hours before the charity gala, as she pulled out the gown she had packed. She moved back to the doorway. "I'm actually kind of hungry. Do you want anything from room service?" she asked.
Sark looked up, a bit surprised. "Actually, I was going to go downstairs to the restaurant."
"Oh." Sydney replied. "Okay." She started to turn away, but halted as he spoke again.
"You're welcome to join me."
The invitation hung between them for a moment, until finally Sydney smiled.
****
"Thank you." Sydney said to the waiter as he finished filling her glass with wine. She picked it up and relished in feeling the wine wash over her lips, flow over her tongue and slide down her throat. She noticed that Sark hadn't taken his eyes from her since they had been seated. "It's good." She said.
"It's always been a favourite of mine." He replied, his gaze unwavering.
They made small talk, filled with awkward pauses, as they waited for their meals. Nothing of importance, really. They spoke of previous trips to Milan and the different places they had been within the city, though they each left out details for obvious reasons. The absurdity of the situation struck Sydney as plates were placed in front of them, and she chuckled to herself. "What is it?" Sark asked.
"If someone had told me two years ago that I would one night be sharing a civilized dinner with you, I would have told them they were insane." Sark smiled at this, and began eating his meal.
They were nearly done eating when Sark's phone gave a sharp trill. "Yes?" He said into it. There was a pause as he listened to the caller. "And everything's in order?" He motioned for the waiter to bring the bill. "Good. We'll meet you in the lobby in one hour." He snapped the phone shut and placed it back in his pocket. "That was Simon. He and Russet have the cameras set up at the museum so they'll be able to let us know Biryukov's exact location."
"I guess we should go get ready."
****
Sydney stepped from the shower, and wrapped herself in one of the cozy white robes provided by the hotel. She padded through the sitting area on her way to the bedroom. "Bathroom's all yours." She said as she passed Sark. She closed the bedroom door behind her.
Sydney pulled out the small travel hairdryer she had brought with her from her suitcase and plugged it in. She dried her thick hair as best and as fast as she could. When she shut it off, she could hear the shower running in the bathroom. As she took out her curling iron and crossed to the full-length mirror, she tried not to think of Sark, standing under the hot spray, water streaming down his lean body.
She shook her head, and chastised herself for being so foolish. She proceeded to curl the ends of her hair, and reminded herself of the multiple reasons she had to hate Sark. She put down the iron, and twisted her hair up. He's a wanted assassin. She grabbed a box of hairpins and pinned her hair to the back of her head. He had a hand in Francie's murder. She pulled out a few tendrils so that some grazed her neck, and others framed her face. He kidnapped Will and had him tortured. She moisturized and powdered her face. She swept eyeshadow the colour of smoke across her lids and dabbed some clear gloss on her lips. He is an arrogant, impudent pain in the ass.
Sydney let her robe drop to the floor, slid into a black slip and took her gown from its garment bag. It was made of jewel-red satin, and it fastened around the neck, with the neckline dipping just low enough to show off her cleavage. She stepped into it, slipping the gown up and over her hips, which it hugged perfectly before dropping straight to the floor. She strapped on a pair of stiletto-heeled sandals, and opened the case that Weiss had given to her. She admired the earrings again before putting them on. They were silver, and dangled delicately from her lobes. A small, ruby- like stone hung from each of them. Sydney smiled, appreciating the extra effort Marshall had put in by matching them to her dress. She stood in front of the mirror once again, and admired her reflection. She dabbed a small amount of her perfume on her wrists and her neck. Satisfied, she crossed to the door and pulled it open.
Sark turned to face her as she exited the bedroom. He looked fantastic as usual, having put on one of his trademark suits, black from the shoes to his tie. What wasn't usual, though, was the look of absolute astonishment that flashed upon his face for the briefest moment. He composed himself before Sydney could really enjoy it, however, and said stiffly "Are you ready?"
"Yes." Replied Sydney, the smallest trace of a smirk playing on her lips. He opened the door, stepping aside to allow her to lead the way. She could feel his eyes burning over her skin.
They stepped out of the elevator, and made their way through the lobby. Sydney spotted Simon and Russet seated in some chairs set off to the side. As she and Sark approached, Simon glanced up and his lips curled into a delighted grin. His eyes ran over Sydney lasciviously, drinking her in from head to toe. Russet turned in his chair, and his mouth fell agape as his eyes rested on her.
"Hello, boys." Sydney breathed as they stood.
"Julia," Simon said in a voice filled with awe and lust, "you. you look incredible."
"Thanks." She replied with a smile, as she glanced sidelong at Sark. His face, as usual, was a mask. "Shall we go?"
"Yes, let's." Sark replied, turning on his heel and striding ahead of them. Sydney exchanged an amused look with Simon as they followed him to the front entrance, where Sark had arranged for a limousine to take he and Sydney to the museum. Simon and Russet were to follow in a van.
They rode in silence, the tension so palpable Sydney felt she was breathing it in, and could feel it move through her blood. At last they arrived, and the driver came around to open her door, and helped her out. She paused in front of the museum entrance and took a deep breath. Sark looked at her questioningly. "Are you prepared for this?" He asked.
Sydney flashed him a brilliant smile and said in a posh British accent. "Of course I am, darling." Her head was in the game now. As they walked into the museum, she felt Sark move his hand up her back to rest on the curve of her shoulder, pulling her towards him. The feel of his skin on hers shocked like electricity, and she tried to keep her breath steady. They moved along the hall, smiling graciously to anyone who happened to look their way, until they reached a corner where there stood a statue. They circled it, pretending to admire the artwork, while they surveyed the crowd and searched for Biryukov. "Any sign of him?" she said lowly.
"Not yet."
A middle-aged man approached them. "Are you interested in this particular piece?" he asked as he smiled warmly at them.
"Yes." Sark replied. "I'm looking to add to my personal collection. What can you tell me about this?"
As the man began speaking with Sark, Sydney's cell phone rang from inside her small handbag. She pulled it out and answered. "Hello?"
"We've got Biryukov making his way into the museum." Simon said. "Wait a moment, and you should be able to spot him."
"That's fantastic." Sydney said loudly, and grinned. "Thomas will be very happy to hear that." She switched off the phone, and turned to Sark, who had stopped to listen to her. "Darling, that was Mr. Millings. He said the shipment we were expecting just came in."
Sark smiled back. "Wonderful." He resumed speaking with the older gentleman. Sydney peered around them until she finally spotted the man that matched the photograph Sark had shown her earlier.
"I'm just going to pop over to the ladies room." She said to Sark. "If I'm not back in ten minutes, come find me, will you? You know how susceptible I am to impulse buys." She smiled charmingly at the other man, who smiled back.
"Of course, love." Sark replied leaning over to her to grace her cheek with a light kiss. Sydney flushed slightly and turned to follow Biryukov. She paused to grab two glasses of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter. She deftly turned the fake wedding ring Sark had given her and flicked the stone open, revealing a small compartment. She emptied the powdered sedative into one of the glasses, and swirled it until the sedative was dissolved. Biryukov had stopped, and he now stood admiring one of the museum's many paintings. She sauntered up to his side and gazed up at the painting, as she handed him a glass. He smiled in surprise as his eyes rested on her. "Beautiful, isn't it?" Sydney breathed.
"Yes." He said, still gazing down at her.
"My name's Sarah."
"Yuri." He raised his glass in appreciation. "Thank you." Sydney smiled up at him as he took a deep drink from the glass.
She flirted with him for a few minutes, until she noticed he began to sway on the spot, and his speech slurred slightly. "Are you all right?" She asked, feigning concern.
"I am suddenly not feeling so well." He replied, as he swallowed hard.
"Here," she said, "let me help you to a seat." She wrapped her arm around his waist and guided him towards the men's washroom. They entered, and fortunately the room was empty. As soon as Sydney shut the door behind them, Biryukov lost consciousness and slid to the floor in a heap. Sydney pulled out a pair of latex gloves from her purse and quickly went to work.
After extracting the computer chip, she disposed of the bloodied gloves and left Biryukov slumped against the wall. She rushed to the door, tugged it open and knocked right into a man who was on his way into the room. He stared at her, confused. "Um, this is the men's room right?"
Sydney pulled the door shut, and stumbled into the man, forcing him back. "Do you know?" she slurred. "I think I've had a few too many drinks. I walked into the wrong washroom." She laughed as though this was the funniest thing to have ever happened to her. "Where is the ladies room?"
The man smiled, slightly amused. "It's just down the hall, miss."
"Thank you." She hiccuped, as she stumbled past him. She looked back to see him enter the washroom, and then broke into a run. Moments later, she heard the man shout out "Hey! Somebody help! Stop that girl!"
She slipped through the crowd as fast as she could, making her way back to Sark. He was still talking to the same man. She ran up, grabbed his hand, and pulled him after her, saying breathlessly "Time to go, sweetheart. Pressing matters are at hand." She started to make her way towards the front entrance, but spotted security guards weaving through the crowd. She and Sark turned and ran deeper into the museum, with the shouts of people trailing after them. Finally, Sark spotted a fire exit and quickly pulled Sydney through it after him.
They were plunged into darkness as the door slammed closed behind them, and they were left in an empty alley. Sark pulled out his phone and dialed. "Walker, I need you to bring the van round to the back alley of the museum." A pause. "Perfect." He re-pocketed the phone, and turned to Sydney. "Did you get the chip?"
"Of course." Sydney snapped, to which Sark replied with a smirk. The alley was long, and provided little cover, save for a garbage bin a bit further away from the exit. They ran towards it, then hid on the further side of it. No sooner had they taken cover, then they heard the door to the alley swing open. Sydney's eyes grew wide, and she looked up at Sark, whose brow was furrowed in irritation. He glanced around at their surroundings, and then his eyes rested on Sydney. He bit his lip, repressing the smile that crept over his mouth.
"What?" Sydney whispered savagely, failing to see the humour in their situation.
"I know I'm risking another slap in the face for this, but." He broke off as he backed her into the wall and his lips crashed into hers.
