Sark stared at her confused look. "Sydney? Are you bleeding?"
Sydney was so thrown off that she didn't even wonder when he had started referring to her by her first name and not that cocky, smug 'Agent Bristow'.
"I think so," she whispered, still staring at him with wide eyes. She saw a look of anger flash on Sark's face quickly before he could conceal it. "Why do you care?"
"Because I instructed that man not to harm a hair on your head."
"Looks like he didn't really understand your command." Sark grabbed Sydney's arm and yanked her over to sit down next to him as gently as possible. "What the hell are you doing?" she demanded.
"Don't fight me," Sark said as he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. He opened a bottle of water that was sitting in one of the cup holders and wet the cloth. "I need to see how bad this wound is."
"Again, why do you care?" she asked.
Sark dabbed the wound lightly. He didn't say a word for five minutes until he was done tending to her wound. Then, he let out a sigh. "I'm tired of playing this little game, Sydney. I'm tired of pretending like the last two years didn't happen."
"What do you mean the last two years?"
Sark rolled his eyes. "Don't try to pretend like you don't remember. I know that you do."
"I have never been more truthful than when I say that I have no idea what you are talking about. I can't remember a thing from the last two years."
"You told me that if our plan was to work, you were going to have to set up this elaborate ruse, but this is ridiculous. If you can't admit the truth to me, then who can you trust in?"
"I don't know what to tell you," Sydney practically screamed. "I don't remember."
Sark stared at her as she began to cry in frustration. "Oh, shit. You really don't. I'm sorry, Syd."
She sat with her face in her hands for a few moments. Eventually she looked up when she heard Sark whisper "Why are you so prone to amnesia, Syd?" He reached out and grabbed her hand in support.
"Don't touch me, you pig," she hissed. "And when did I ever tell you that you could call me Syd?" She was surprised to see a hurt look appear on his face.
He drew his hand back slowly and reached into his pocket. Pulling out a small box, he said, "I was going to ask you if you wanted this back today, but I guess you won't remember ever wearing it."
She lifted the top of the ring-size box open and gasped. "This is the ring you gave me in my dream," she whispered. The ring had a diamond and two sapphires on a platinum band. It was identical to the one she imagined.
"That's the ring I gave you one year ago in Berlin," he supplied.
Sydney realized the problem with his statement almost immediately. "How could you have given this to me a year ago? You were in federal custody for the whole two years I was missing."
"Actually, it wasn't me. Dr. Enzo Markovic came to me with his doubling technology before his own reconstructive surgery. He offered me a great opportunity, and I took it. I had one of my most loyal employees go through the process. He took on my face and learned to take on my persona. When you captured me in Stockholm, that wasn't really me."
"You expect me to believe that we picked up one of your men who had been cosmetically enhanced to look like you?"
"You are a double agent for the CIA who actually was a triple agent once. But you don't really remember that, so we'll skip that part. Your mother's in prison, and your father is the most ruthless man I've ever met. You put on a new wig and dress for every day of the week, pretending to be someone you're not. All this, while trying to keep up the premise of a normal life. And you don't believe that I had someone take on my face?"
"You make a good point. So, that wasn't you in CIA custody when I returned from my missing two years?"
"No, that wasn't me."
"You know, I kind of believe that. You laughed in my face when I talked to you then. In all the time I've known you, you've always smirked knowingly. You've never outright laughed at me before. I didn't even know you were capable of a full-on laugh. So where were you during the two years in question?"
"Right by your side."
"You mean to tell me that I spent my missing two years with you. I really think if you want to get me to believe you, you need to come up with better lies than that."
"It was your choice mostly to be by my side. You suffered a nasty blow to the head on your last mission before you disappear and had amnesia. I found you and decided I could use this to my advantage."
"That's the first thing you've said to me that I haven't been surprised to hear."
Sark gave her a look which shut her up quickly. "You got your memory back within weeks, but for some reason you didn't want to return to the CIA."
"You're making this up again."
"Sydney, you're holding an extremely expensive engagement right that I gave you. I don't think I'd spend that much money on a lie."
She looked down at the ring. He did have a point. "If I was with you for the two years, what were we doing?"
"Believe it or not, nothing that has to do with the spy world. I had to lie low because the whole world thought I was in CIA custody."
"And why was I lying low?" she asked. She still wasn't sure if she believed all this.
"You just wanted a break. It's as simple as that. I offered you the opportunity and you took it. After a while, your reasons changed."
"May I ask to what?"
"You're not going to believe me."
"Try me."
"After a few months, your reason for staying wasn't because you wanted a break from the CIA. It became the simple fact that you didn't want to leave me. I think you said for the first time in your life you were exactly where you wanted to be."
"You're right. I don't believe that." She decided to steer the subject back on course. "So we didn't go on any covert missions together? We didn't become partners or anything weird like that?"
"Not business partners, no." Sydney felt the need to slap him as she realized what he was implying. Reading her mind, Sark continued, "Before you slap me, remember I mentioned that ring was an engagement ring. One you very willingly accepted."
"I doubt that."
Sark bit his lip in frustration. He glared at Sydney. "Sometimes I wish I had let you die all of those times I saved your ass."
"You saved my ass numerous times, did you? This is news to me."
"Numerous times in the last few months since you've returned to your life with the CIA. You made me promise you that I would when you left."
"Why did I leave?"
"Because there were still questions about your mother that you needed answered. And I didn't have the right answers. So, you chose to go back. You told me to pretend, at least for a little while, that the past two years didn't happen. The plan should have gone well, except the Covenant interfered. They got the man they thought was me out of the CIA prison cell. I can only assume they were also behind your current bout with amnesia, too."
"Let's stay on the topic of you first. Then, I'll try to sort out my missing two years. There are currently two of you running around?"
"No. I had my double killed. It was for the best. He would have blown both of our covers, and we couldn't let him do that under any condition."
"I wish you wouldn't keep making me sound so despicable and evil. I'm not you."
"No, you're not."
Sydney glared at him. The glare disappeared when she realized something very important. "That mission I went on in Queenstown. Did you save me?"
"Yeah. I got you out of the building and drove you a few miles away from the facility. But you shouldn't remember that. I gave you a drug to erase those memories."
"I do remember, though." Sydney's mind was thrown into complete disarray. Her last dream was real. That made her begin to wonder what other dreams she had had were real, too. Pushing that thought to the back of her head, she asked the other question she had. "If you thought that I was faking my two years amnesia, why did you offer a partnership to me a few weeks ago?"
"I was testing to see if it was true. I needed to know if you really had forgotten or if it was all part of the plan you had. Plus, if you were faking it, I had just managed to secure some alone time with you where we could drop the facades we were wearing. When you slapped me that second time, I knew that you really hadn't remembered our time together."
They sat in silence, neither knowing what to say next. Finally, Sark reached into his pocket and drew out a business card. He flipped it over to the back, wrote something down, and handed it to Sydney.
"Steven Walker?" she asked reading the name on the business card.
"It was left over from the alias I used on my last mission. On the back is an address. When you get some vacation time from the CIA, go there. It might help you remember your missing two years." Sark reached over and pressed a button. The locks popped open loudly.
"You're actually letting me go?"
"My intention was never to kidnap you." He reached over her and pulled on the door handle. "I'll be seeing you soon."
Not knowing what to say to him, she simply got out of the car and shut the door, but not before sneaking one last look at him. He really did look slightly hurt and rather fazed by the whole conversation. She wanted to believe he was telling her the truth.
Sighing, she pocketed the business card and began to make her way to the restaurant she had promised to meet Vaughn at.
When she made it to the restaurant, she was happy to see that he was still waiting for her at a table outside on the sidewalk. He stood up to greet her as their eyes met.
"I'm sorry I'm late," she apologized.
"Where were you?"
Deciding it was easier if Vaughn didn't know the truth, she lied. "Work held me up. You know how it can get."
"How was your talk with your mother?"
"It helped a little. Though I have to admit, the whole time I was there I was wondering if I could trust my mother enough to believe her."
"What did she tell you?"
Sydney paled. She hadn't thought of what to say to Vaughn. He knew about the dreams in general, but she had never told him that they were about him and Sark. The idea that she was dreaming about him would probably please him. However, she knew for a fact that he would be upset by her dreams about Sark.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, Syd," he said, noticing her pause and horror-filled look.
"Thank you," she said, letting out the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. "It's just… I'm still trying to sort out what's happening to me. It would be a lot less complicated if I didn't have to reason it out with other people."
"You don't have to explain. Just know that I'm here if you do decide you need a sounding board."
She smiled and reached for his hand across the table. "You were always there. So, what are we going to do about this? We can't build a relationship on sneaking off to eat lunch together."
"I don't know. You and I both know that Kendall would not approve of this. And SD-6 would probably kill either you or I if they found out that their Agent Bristow was dating a CIA employee."
"So, I guess we need to keep this under wraps for a while."
"Until we reach our goal of taking down SD-6 and the Alliance, yeah, it looks that way." Vaughn smiled at her. "But if two spies can't handle the challenge, I don't know who can."
It was at that moment that Sydney realized that her life was probably as perfect as she could ever expect it to be. "Then why do I have an uneasy feeling in my stomach?" she wondered to herself. Grinning, she pushed that thought out of her mind and turned her attention back to the man she was slowly and yet quickly falling for.
"You seem distracted, Syd," he said. "Maybe we should try this again later."
"I want to say no, but it might be better if we did. I just have to much going on my mind."
Vaughn leaned over and kissed her quickly on the lips. "I will see you later, won't I?"
"Of course," she replied as she stood up from the table. Constantly scanning all around her, she made her way out of the restaurant and back to her car. She slid into the driver's seat and sat in silence. After a moment, she took out the business card Sark had handed her and turned it over a few times. She put it back into her pocket, started the ignition, and began to drive back to her apartment.
The drive was uneventful, which was a surprise to Sydney considering the last week or so had been a whirlwind of events. When she unlocked her apartment door and stepped inside, the first thing she did was shrug off her coat and throw it on the kitchen counter. The shower was calling her name.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
She didn't think she had ever taken a shower that long in her life. For the first half hour, she just stood underneath the spray from the showerhead, simply glad to feel the pressure on her skin. She threw a towel around herself and walked out into the kitchen for a bowl of ice cream. The heat and steam from the shower had made her crave something cold.
A quick three or four scoops later, she found herself searching everywhere for a clean spoon. She finally found one in the drawer with all the random kitchen utensils she had no idea what to do with. As she closed the drawer, her eyes shifted upward onto the counter and focused on the small business card. It must have slid out of her jacket pocket when she threw it on the counter.
Sighing, she grabbed the card and took her bowl of ice cream into her bedroom. She set the card onto the bed and curled up with her bowl of ice cream. Her eyes kept shifting back to the tiny white rectangle.
She pushed the bowl aside and picked up the card. "59 Stanler Ave," she said to herself. "That doesn't sound familiar at all."
The card was flung onto her nightstand. Sydney felt that staring at it probably wasn't going to make her decision any less easy. She really wanted to find out what was at this address, but in the back of her head, there was a voice screaming not to trust Sark. That this was probably all a setup, and if she did go there, he would probably kidnap her and take away two more years of her life.
She laid back on the bed and stared at the ceiling for a while. Happily, she noted that she didn't feel tired at all. It was nice, knowing for once that a weird, almost prophetic dream wasn't on its way.
An eerie feeling started to creep up her spine. She sat up and looked over at the night table. "Does it make me crazy if I think a card is watching me?" she asked herself out loud. "Oh, screw it."
She leaned over and grabbed the cordless phone off her night table. The buttons were pressed without a second thought. She had dialed this number a million times.
"Hello. This is Mountaineer. Could you tell the Director that I need some time off?"