INTRODUCTION


"Andrew," she purred, "I've seen the way you've been looking at me. Stop fighting this," she finished, rubbing her hand over his cheek, her other hand stroking his chest. He closed his eyes at her caress, summoning the strength to resist another one of her advances.

"Sydn...Julia," he corrected himself quickly, shaking his head, his blue eyes piercing her own, "We can't do this. I cannot...no, I will not take advantage of you while you are like this!" he yelled, pulling away from her. She shook her head in disgust, removing her hands from his body to gesture at her own.

"Like what? I'm perfectly fine, and you know it!" she yelled. He shook his head, moving to push her against the wall. She smiled, licking her lips in expectation.

"Now that's more like the man I remember from the other night," she whispered. He placed his finger over her lips, silencing her.

"I wasn't myself that night," he said.

"Well then who were you?" she demanded, her voice raising. He silenced her again.

"Shh," he said, kissing the corner of her mouth softly, "They're always listening," he whispered.

"Who?" she asked, rolling her eyes, but remaining attentive nonetheless.

"You know bloody well who I'm talking about," he said, glancing down at her lips. She was so beautiful...if only...he shook his head. She smirked, reading his thoughts.

"Why don't you just do it?" she asked, moistening her lips again. His eyes blazed, obviously conflicted. He shook his head.

"I can't. You're not the woman I love," he blurted, then flushing after his admission.

"Oh? And who is?" she demanded, jealousy visible in her brown eyes.

"Sydney Bristow," he whispered, taking a moment to check if anyone was listening.

"Who is she?" she asked. He hesitated.

"She's you," he whispered, leaning closer to her. Her eyes widened considerably, her stoic mask fading into a mass of contradictions. Only for a moment though. In an instant her game face was present once again.

"What in the world are you going on about?" she demanded, "My name is Julia Thorne. I was born in London. My parents are..."

He silenced her by stroking her face again. She visibly responded to his touch.

"Don't you hear yourself? You're spouting out information like a bloody robot! They've programmed you Sydney," he said, eyes blazing.

"I'm not Sydn..." she began.

"Shut up," he interrupted, kissing her squarely on the mouth. The kiss was fierce, and his hands traveled over her shoulders, to her face and through her hair in record time. He closed the space between them, pinning her against the wall. She responded with equal fervor as her hands raked over his back and chest. She was lost in the taste of him, the feel of him, until memories flashed through her head.

This was Sark. "Andrew" was an alias. He was her enemy. And this enemy was holding her against a wall. His hips were pressed into her body and her legs were entangled in his own. This really bothered her. And, why was he kissing her?

She pushed him way, wiping her mouth as he fell back against the opposite wall of the hallway.

"What do you think you're doing Sark?" she demanded, her eyes blazing. Sark only smirked, his blue eyes dancing.

"Sydney, love...I've missed you..." he said, as his face faded into nothingness.