Show No Emotion

Spoilers: No

Archive: Yes, but please let me know at sarkaholic23@hotmail.com

A/N: This takes place after Truth Takes Time. Tenses in this story will change. When it is in first person POV, it will be in present tense. When it is in third person POV, it will be in past.

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"Hey, Syd," Michael Vaughn whispered into his girlfriend's ear.

Sydney Bristow giggled with delight and gave him a kiss. "Hey," she replied, sighing.

He stroked her hair with one hand, wrapping his other arm around her waist. She giggled again. "Vaughn," she said in a mock lecturing tone, "not now."

"Oh, yes, now, Agent Bristow," Vaughn replied, "because I need a little loving, and it's going to come from you."

Sydney was about to reply when Eric Weiss rushed up to them.

"Sorry to interrupt the love fest, guys, really, but I have big news!"

Sydney and Vaughn straightened up. "What is it?" Sydney asked.

"Okay, are you ready for this? Maybe you should sit down, because this is big. I mean, this is really—"

"What is it?" Vaughn and Sydney demanded in unison.

Weiss took a deep breath. "Sark just turned himself in to the CIA."

Sydney and Vaughn looked at each other, shocked and wide-eyed. Sydney turned back to Weiss.

"Where is he?"

"Some guards just took him to a cell…your mother's old cell."

Sydney nodded slowly. She took her boyfriend's hand. "Let's go have a talk with him, Vaughn."

As they walked down the long hallway, both Sydney and Vaughn didn't know what to expect. Irina Derevko turning herself in…it could be understood that she wanted to be in alliance with her daughter or simply wanted to earn her trust. However, Sark was a different story. How could this possibly benefit him? Sydney smirked as they stopped in front of the cell. Sark was dressed in Hannibal Lecter-esque clothing and lying back on a cot-less metal bed.

He sensed their presence and stood. He gave them an eerie smile and clasped his hands together.

"Why, Ms. Bristow, what brings you here?" he asked, walking toward the glass barrier.

Sydney stiffened, but felt a bit of comfort when Vaughn rubbed her back.

"I could ask you the same thing, Sark," she replied, trying to keep her voice in monotone.

"Ah, well, I could give you so many answers, Ms. Bristow." He glanced at Vaughn. "Well, well, look what we have here. I don't believe we've officially met, which is quite a pity. I do like to get to know people before I shoot them."

Vaughn took a sharp intake of breath, remembering the way the bullet from Sark's gun had hit him. He had come so close to death at the hands of this man. He couldn't find his voice. Fortunately, Sydney covered for him.

"This is Agent Vaughn. That's all you need to know, Sark, do you understand?"

Sark chuckled. "I'm a criminal, Ms. Bristow, not short-minded."

"Why did you turn yourself in? What's in it for you?"

Sark sighed and shrugged. "Quite frankly, Ms. Bristow, I was getting fed up with Arvin Sloane and Irina Derevko. They aren't exactly a constant treat to work with. Always expecting me to play their lapdog, the fools."

"And…that's it? You got tired of Sloane and Derevko, so you turned yourself in? I don't buy that."

"What can I say, Ms. Bristow? I'm a man of short patience and high agendas. I don't have the time or the patience to work with the likes of those two."

"So you want to help the CIA find them? Is that right?"

"Yes."

"I have to tell you, Sark, you're making all of this extremely simple. It's pretty hard to believe."

Sark raised an eyebrow. "I assure you, Ms. Bristow, nothing about this is 'simple.'"

Sydney paused before continuing, "You're going to need to take a polygraph test."

"I've already come to that conclusion, yes."

"Now."

"Fine."

"And if you do anything to screw this up, you're not going to be seeing the light of day for a very long time."

Sark rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, let's get on with it."

Sydney exchanged a look with Vaughn, then nodded to the guards. "Let's go."