06//Suggestion
- - -
Stay away from me tonight
I've made other plans
And you'll just be distracting me
In a good way
"Stay Away" - Rooney
- - -
Sark stood up and looked straight at the door. He glanced briefly back at Sydney who was giving him a bewildered look. "Sark, what's wrong?" She asked in a soft voice, obviously disappointed by the kiss that never happened between them.
"Uh, nothing. Nothing at all." He lied quickly. "Just stay here and rest a while. I have some, er, clients down stairs I must speak with. I'll ask Mr. Stewart-"
"Clayton," She corrected him quickly.
"Right, right. Mr. Clayton will be up shortly with a cup of coffee for you. I'll come up after my little . er . meeting." He assured her and quickly got up. Without another word spoken, Sark left the room and closed the door behind him. He closed his eyes, took a big breath, and told himself to relax before he leaned over the railing. Irina and Sloane were standing in Sark's entrance hall and looking pissed. "Irina, Arvin." Sark beckoned them as he made his way down the stairs in as cool of fashion as you could possibly fake at that moment. "Fancy seeing you here."
"Where the hell have you been?" Irina hissed angrily. She wore a black pea coat with her arms crossed and a furious expression on her face. Irina wasn't the type of person you wanted to be with if she was angry about anything. Sark glanced towards Sloane and saw him in his usual demeanor: stern look, ordinary business suit and expensive shoes. Sark always felt slightly threatened by Sloane's look. Not only life threatening but also career threatening. If you messed up on an assignment he would ruin you and your entire family's career. Luckily, Sark had no family so there was no reason him to feel any threat.
But that didn't stop the fear.
"You never reported back to the office as soon as you got back. You're always suppose to report to me and Irina before you go anywhere." Sloane said in low voice. "We called your driver and he told us he drove you home. You're phone isn't on. What the hell has been happening?" Anger flickered in his cold eyes, "We heard a doctor was over here. Are you hurt?"
"No, actually I'm fine. Thanks for caring." Sark added under his breath, "Actually, I ran into Miss Bristow while on my mission but I was able to receive the intel." Sark gestured to the manila envelope on a near by table. Sloane didn't look but kept his eyes directly on Sark.
"What do you mean you ran into Sydney?" He asked curiously.
"Well, actually she-," as Sark was about to continue with the story he heard a door above him open and Sydney appear at the railing still in her pajamas. Sark looked up at her, the color in his face draining, and quickly glanced back at Sloane and Irina who both had shocked expressions on their faces.
"Sark, can you ask Mr. Clayton to bring me up some sea instead of coffee. I just want to take a nap." Sydney asked, giving a polite smile to the two strangers. Sydney locked eyes with Sloane and quickly felt that famaliar tug in her stomach.
- - - They were standing in an office facing each other. Sydney smiled politely as the man spoke, his words somehow muffled. She nodded quietly but felt something in the pit of her stomach. A type of rage that could succumb a person to madness but she remained sane and patient. The man reached forward and put his hand on her arm; she wanted to pull away sorely but remained still and continued to listen to nothing.
Finally, Sydney replied thank and watched the man wrinkly smile unfold.
"You've always been like a daughter to me, Sydney." He told her.
- - -
Sydney gripped the railing as she was launched back into reality. She had another memory, another memory with that man in it. Sydney gave him a bewildered look and asked wearily, "Do I know you?"
"TEA!" Sark interjected, "tea, right sweetie! I'll be sure to have Mr. Uh . whats-his-face bring it up for you shortly. Now go back to bed," Sark urged her, "go now. Go go go." Sydney sent Sloane another bewildered look and wandered back into his room. Sark took a large sigh as the door closed silently and glanced back at Sloane and Irina who looked dumbfounded. "Shall we go into the sitting room for some tea?" he asked them politely.
10 minutes later, they were all in the sitting room and Sark was spilling the entire story from when Sydney and Sark first made eye contact at the party to when Sydney woke up on the airplane. All the mean time, Sark continually sent Irina glances, noticing her instant fascination to something out the window. Sark could see the wheels turn in her head with every detail he described. Sloane was attentive and completely absorbed by the story, soaking every word up.
"So, I brought a doctor over and he diagnosed amnesia. She doesn't remember anything unless I tell her. She trusts me," he emphasized as if a miracle happened. "We have to tip-toe around her old life. Not mention a thing about SD-6, or her father, or even Mr. Vaughn. Anything could trigger all those memories back and we'd be in deep shit."
"I see what your saying." Sloane nodded as he sat up straight. "We have to be very careful, if we're going to use her we have to be very sure that the CIA will have no contact with her. Keep closer tabs on them while they go off on missions and other trips." He took a sip of the steaming tea that sat in front of him and continued, "You will have to accompany her on every mission she goes on."
"That is no problem, I've always believed me and Mrs. Bristow would make a very dynamic duo." Sark reassured him. Irina shifted in her chair and looked back at Sark with interest.
"Tell me, what else have you revealed to her. Why does she trust you so much?" She asked. Sark coughed nervously; telling your fake fiancée's real mother that you told her she was your fiancée isn't the most comfortable subject to venture on. Not mention the most difficult to explain afterwards.
"Well, I might've slipped her a little detail that we were . um . engaged" he added quietly with a slight cough.
"That you were what?" Sloane inquired.
"Engaged." He said with more volume and prepared himself for the lash out.
"That's a good idea." Irina surprisingly said. "That way she'll have no reason not to trust you as long as she doesn't learn your true intentions. Good work."
"Here," Sloane said reaching into his pocket and pulling out a letter envelope. "Here is your next mission. We'll have a meeting the day after tomorrow to discuss it in more detail." Sloane handed Sark the envelope as he and Irina stood up. Sark walked them to the front door and as he was about to close it Sloane insisted on having a private word with him. As Irina walked to the private car parked out in front, Sloane began to speak in a hushed voice.
"I only ask a few agents to do this but try to get more intimate with Sydney. She's always trusted a person once she's slept with them from what I've researched."
"Sleep with her?" Sark asked as if Sloane were mad.
"Just try to get closer to her, give her more reason to trust you. Good luck." He finally said and began to walk down the walkway. Sloane wants him to sleep with Sydney?
Interesting, very Interesting .
- - -
Stay away from me tonight
I've made other plans
And you'll just be distracting me
In a good way
"Stay Away" - Rooney
- - -
Sark stood up and looked straight at the door. He glanced briefly back at Sydney who was giving him a bewildered look. "Sark, what's wrong?" She asked in a soft voice, obviously disappointed by the kiss that never happened between them.
"Uh, nothing. Nothing at all." He lied quickly. "Just stay here and rest a while. I have some, er, clients down stairs I must speak with. I'll ask Mr. Stewart-"
"Clayton," She corrected him quickly.
"Right, right. Mr. Clayton will be up shortly with a cup of coffee for you. I'll come up after my little . er . meeting." He assured her and quickly got up. Without another word spoken, Sark left the room and closed the door behind him. He closed his eyes, took a big breath, and told himself to relax before he leaned over the railing. Irina and Sloane were standing in Sark's entrance hall and looking pissed. "Irina, Arvin." Sark beckoned them as he made his way down the stairs in as cool of fashion as you could possibly fake at that moment. "Fancy seeing you here."
"Where the hell have you been?" Irina hissed angrily. She wore a black pea coat with her arms crossed and a furious expression on her face. Irina wasn't the type of person you wanted to be with if she was angry about anything. Sark glanced towards Sloane and saw him in his usual demeanor: stern look, ordinary business suit and expensive shoes. Sark always felt slightly threatened by Sloane's look. Not only life threatening but also career threatening. If you messed up on an assignment he would ruin you and your entire family's career. Luckily, Sark had no family so there was no reason him to feel any threat.
But that didn't stop the fear.
"You never reported back to the office as soon as you got back. You're always suppose to report to me and Irina before you go anywhere." Sloane said in low voice. "We called your driver and he told us he drove you home. You're phone isn't on. What the hell has been happening?" Anger flickered in his cold eyes, "We heard a doctor was over here. Are you hurt?"
"No, actually I'm fine. Thanks for caring." Sark added under his breath, "Actually, I ran into Miss Bristow while on my mission but I was able to receive the intel." Sark gestured to the manila envelope on a near by table. Sloane didn't look but kept his eyes directly on Sark.
"What do you mean you ran into Sydney?" He asked curiously.
"Well, actually she-," as Sark was about to continue with the story he heard a door above him open and Sydney appear at the railing still in her pajamas. Sark looked up at her, the color in his face draining, and quickly glanced back at Sloane and Irina who both had shocked expressions on their faces.
"Sark, can you ask Mr. Clayton to bring me up some sea instead of coffee. I just want to take a nap." Sydney asked, giving a polite smile to the two strangers. Sydney locked eyes with Sloane and quickly felt that famaliar tug in her stomach.
- - - They were standing in an office facing each other. Sydney smiled politely as the man spoke, his words somehow muffled. She nodded quietly but felt something in the pit of her stomach. A type of rage that could succumb a person to madness but she remained sane and patient. The man reached forward and put his hand on her arm; she wanted to pull away sorely but remained still and continued to listen to nothing.
Finally, Sydney replied thank and watched the man wrinkly smile unfold.
"You've always been like a daughter to me, Sydney." He told her.
- - -
Sydney gripped the railing as she was launched back into reality. She had another memory, another memory with that man in it. Sydney gave him a bewildered look and asked wearily, "Do I know you?"
"TEA!" Sark interjected, "tea, right sweetie! I'll be sure to have Mr. Uh . whats-his-face bring it up for you shortly. Now go back to bed," Sark urged her, "go now. Go go go." Sydney sent Sloane another bewildered look and wandered back into his room. Sark took a large sigh as the door closed silently and glanced back at Sloane and Irina who looked dumbfounded. "Shall we go into the sitting room for some tea?" he asked them politely.
10 minutes later, they were all in the sitting room and Sark was spilling the entire story from when Sydney and Sark first made eye contact at the party to when Sydney woke up on the airplane. All the mean time, Sark continually sent Irina glances, noticing her instant fascination to something out the window. Sark could see the wheels turn in her head with every detail he described. Sloane was attentive and completely absorbed by the story, soaking every word up.
"So, I brought a doctor over and he diagnosed amnesia. She doesn't remember anything unless I tell her. She trusts me," he emphasized as if a miracle happened. "We have to tip-toe around her old life. Not mention a thing about SD-6, or her father, or even Mr. Vaughn. Anything could trigger all those memories back and we'd be in deep shit."
"I see what your saying." Sloane nodded as he sat up straight. "We have to be very careful, if we're going to use her we have to be very sure that the CIA will have no contact with her. Keep closer tabs on them while they go off on missions and other trips." He took a sip of the steaming tea that sat in front of him and continued, "You will have to accompany her on every mission she goes on."
"That is no problem, I've always believed me and Mrs. Bristow would make a very dynamic duo." Sark reassured him. Irina shifted in her chair and looked back at Sark with interest.
"Tell me, what else have you revealed to her. Why does she trust you so much?" She asked. Sark coughed nervously; telling your fake fiancée's real mother that you told her she was your fiancée isn't the most comfortable subject to venture on. Not mention the most difficult to explain afterwards.
"Well, I might've slipped her a little detail that we were . um . engaged" he added quietly with a slight cough.
"That you were what?" Sloane inquired.
"Engaged." He said with more volume and prepared himself for the lash out.
"That's a good idea." Irina surprisingly said. "That way she'll have no reason not to trust you as long as she doesn't learn your true intentions. Good work."
"Here," Sloane said reaching into his pocket and pulling out a letter envelope. "Here is your next mission. We'll have a meeting the day after tomorrow to discuss it in more detail." Sloane handed Sark the envelope as he and Irina stood up. Sark walked them to the front door and as he was about to close it Sloane insisted on having a private word with him. As Irina walked to the private car parked out in front, Sloane began to speak in a hushed voice.
"I only ask a few agents to do this but try to get more intimate with Sydney. She's always trusted a person once she's slept with them from what I've researched."
"Sleep with her?" Sark asked as if Sloane were mad.
"Just try to get closer to her, give her more reason to trust you. Good luck." He finally said and began to walk down the walkway. Sloane wants him to sleep with Sydney?
Interesting, very Interesting .