The tour around the penthouse was finished within the first few minutes of them. While they were walking through it, Sark had pushed Sydney to tell him the rest of what happened to his sister. By the end, he still was in disbelief, but he had started to see the pieces fitting together. Lina had always been a wild cannon, that's for sure.

The only thing that puzzled him is why would he have killed her for Sydney. No woman had ever had that power over him, not even Irina Derevko. What happened between them to make him willing to destroy his life from the bottom up just to keep her around?

Sydney turned to Sark and, breaking him out of his thoughts, asked, "Do you remember any of this?"

He looked up from where he was staring at a framed photograph of him and Sydney at Central Park. "It seems familiar and you have proof, but I can't say that it's not just because I've seen pictures of it. I mean, it is where you live, Sydney. The Covenant could have had me doing some recon on you at some point, and computers can digitally alter photographs rather nicely these days."

"That's a good point. I'm willing to give you that one." Her cell phone began to ring. "But you're wrong." She flipped it open and walked into the other room.

The second she was out of sight, Sark withdrew his own cell phone from his pocket and punched in a number. "It's Sark. I need to talk to Eric Weiss or Stephanie Conway." Pause. "Don't give me that bullshit that they don't work for the Covenant. Sydney Bristow told me that they do." Pause. "Listen. They want to talk with me. So just go down there and find them and give them the phone."

He only had to wait another minute until a woman's voice came on the phone. "Ms. Conway, I assume."

"Please, call me Stephanie. Let's cut to the chase, Sark. Why the hell did you let Bristow take you out of our Tokyo facility?"

"Because it was advantageous for me at the time."

"And it's not because you have a little crush on her."

Sark smirked. "I'm not going to sit on this phone wasting the precious window of opportunity I've found debating whether or not I love Sydney. I was just calling to let you know that I can still help you with your little Bristow problem… for a price."

"How much?" Stephanie asked.

"We can decide that later. And I want you to know that I have a little insurance on you. I will tell Sydney who you're little mole is."

"Understood."

"It was a pleasure talking with you, Stephanie. And, by the way, I appreciate the poetic irony of what you did to Amy Tippin, but that doesn't mean it doesn't still piss me off. Stop taking jabs at me."

"But it's fun," Stephanie said with a laugh before disconnecting.

Sark didn't have a moment to relax as Sydney reentered the room. She looked up at him and smiled. "It's nice to have you standing around the penthouse again."

"So, who was on the phone?" Sark asked. He silently slipped his phone back into his pocket as she focused on telling him what he had asked.

"That was Will. It seems like the doctor's think Amy will pull out of her coma, but not for another few days."

"Then only a few more days before you can figure out who your deceiver is," Sark pointed out.

"I hadn't thought of that. I was just focusing on Amy getting better."

"Leave it to me to bring up the cold, hard facts about a situation. It's my specialty."

Sydney was about to respond when she saw Sark's face go pale and he faltered a little, almost falling over. She rushed over to his side and helped him sit down on the couch. "What's wrong?"

"I got this weird flash right there." He rubbed the back of his skull right above the neck. "It was strange. I felt a pulsing in my temple and then this picture popped into my head. I saw you and I eating pizza in my flat in London. You were teasing me about something. Only I know that never happened."

She gently touched the side of his face with her hand and turned his head to face her. "That really happened. I made you pizza because you said you had never eaten a properly, homemade one. You're recovering your memories."

"I don't think so, Sydney. It was just a coincidence."

Sydney stood up so that she could look down on him. "Why won't you give me a little benefit? Trust me when I say I'm telling the truth. If you stop fighting it, maybe you'll find out if I'm telling the truth sooner rather than later."

"I can't just accept this," Sark said standing up so he was on the same level as her. "I can't just accept the fact that I've gone soft. That I actually let a woman into my life. That I gave up my career for love. That's not me."

"It is you. You changed, and you need to accept that. I'm not the kind of person who gives up easily. I'm going to be at your side hounding you morning, noon, and night until you admit that I am right."

"You always were stubborn," Sark said, a hint of regret in his voice.

"I got it from my parents." Sydney grabbed his hand. "Why don't we get out of here for a little bit? We can go over to the Park and get some ice cream."

Sark nodded and let Sydney lead him over to the elevator doors.

"Oh. And don't forget to say hello to William, our doorman. You're like his hero."

Sark couldn't believe it. He had spent the whole day with Sydney, and he hadn't thought about anything spy related the whole time. It seemed she had a secret talent of distracting him from the things he knew he had to do. Now they were walking back to their penthouse with the sun setting behind them, eating ice cream cones they bought from a street vender.

"What are you doing to me, Sydney Bristow?" he mumbled to himself.

"What did you say?" she asked turning towards him.

"This is so surreal. Do you really expect me to believe that I lived like this?"

"And enjoyed it, too. It was nice, having a simple life. No complications. We both loved it." Sydney went silent and started licking her ice cream cone again.

"Are you getting tired of trying to convince me already? Because I thought you were going to hound me until the end of time."

"Oh, I am. I just don't want to waste time on you right now when I have a fabulously delicious ice cream cone in front of me."

Sark watched her as she set in upon her ice cream with her tongue again. "She really doesn't have a clue how much power she has over a man," he thought to himself. He was beginning to realize that she normally acted just like she did on a mission. Every move she made was so naturally charged with sensual energy. It was like she couldn't turn it off. And it was unnerving him how much he wanted to take her to bed.

"What are you thinking?" she asked as she threw her empty napkin into a nearby trashcan.

"I'm thinking…" He struggled for a way to tell her what he was thinking without revealing his true thoughts. "I was thinking how beautiful you look."

She smiled at him. "Thank you."

"But that doesn't mean anything's changed between us."

She grabbed his hand and leaned in close to his side. "Of course not."

He sighed and pulled his hand out of hers to place it around her shoulders. "You're going to be the death of me, Sydney."

"You've told me that before. You're still alive." She was pleased to hear him chuckle over her comment.

They walked the last few blocks to the penthouse in silence. As William opened the door for them and smiled, Sydney turned to Sark and kisses him lightly on the cheek.

"What was that for, Bristow?"

"It's nice to have the little things back."

"To what are you referring?" he asked as he hit the button for the twenty-fourth floor.

"A lot of couples have a problem with uncomfortable silence between them. They talk about the stupidest things just to fill that void. We never had that. Amy always used to tell me that's when you've found a special person. And I quote, 'When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence'."

Sark saw Sydney's face drop as she realized who she was talking about. "You're really worried about your friend?"

"It's my fault she's in the hospital. I dragged her into something she should never have been involved in. It was extremely selfish of me."

"It's about time you did something selfish. You were always the kind of person who would keep sacrificing their lives over and over again if anyone they cared about needed them to. It's a refreshing change. Makes me think you're not as perfect as I once thought."

"You thought I was perfect?" she said with a wink.

Sark was about to enter when the elevator doors opened. "Why are we on the twenty-fourth floor?" he asked, taking in the surroundings.

"Because you pushed the button, Julian," she said as she got out of the elevator.

"And do you have any idea why I did that?"

She started walking down the hallway and called behind her shoulder, "We always got off a floor below the penthouse and took the back stairs up to our home. I don't know why or when we started doing it. It's just routine now."

Sark followed her through the hall to a door at the end. She took out her key card and swiped it through a reader, making the door pop open.

"You're not going to say anything to me about remembering that little bit?" he asked.

"No. I don't want to push you too hard. It's only the first day, you know."

When they reached the top of the stairs and went into their penthouse, Sydney turned to him. "I have work to do with Irina."

"Irina?" he asked.

"Not my mother. My clothing line. I've put the company in the hands of my assistants for the past few weeks since I've been trying to find you. I'd like to make sure that everything's been running smoothly. Do you think you can amuse yourself for a little while?"

"I'll come up with something," he said, waving her waving her away.

She smiled and left the room.

"Something to amuse myself, huh?" he muttered as he pulled out his cell phone. He had decided that there was something eerily familiar about the whole day. As much as he wanted to deny it, it seemed that Sydney might be telling him the truth. He might have been lied to by the Covenant.

The idea of having spent the past few years with Sydney wasn't that far-fetched. He was willing to admit that he always had a little thing for her, but who wouldn't? She was practically the perfect image of a woman, and she wasn't even conscious of it.

He had to make a decision and fast.

Dialing a number, he hoped what he was about to do would pay off. "This is Sark. Give me Conway."

He waited for a few minutes, knowing that she was making him wait on purpose, before Stephanie came onto the line.

"Do you have a plan as to how you're going to hand us Bristow's head on a platter?"

"No. But I have decided my payment. And if things are as you say, it shouldn't be any trouble for you to get."

"How many million?" she asked, sounding rather annoyed.

"None. I don't want money. I just want some concrete proof that I've been with the Covenant for the past few years. And I want it delivered to me within the hour. If I don't get it, I'll assume that you've been lying to me, and all bets are off. I have a man in my London office that knows where to contact me. Get the information to him, and he'll pass it on to me. You have one hour starting now." He flipped the phone shut and took note of the time.

He knew that if they weren't telling him the truth, there was no way they could fake concrete evidence within sixty minutes. So, whatever they gave him would either be soundly the truth or very noticeably fake.

Picking up the TV remote, he turned it on and became engrossed in a rather interesting mystery movie on one of the channels. He didn't even notice that two hours had passed until he heard the door to Sydney's office slam shut behind her.

"How's the company?" he asked without turning to look at her.

"The same as always." She waited until he looked up at her. "Excelling and kicking the ass of every company that it's up against."

She sat down on the couch and snuggled into his side. "So what's on?"

"Nothing," he answered as he yawned.

"Tired? We could go to bed."

"We?"

"Well, yeah, I assumed you wouldn't mind."

"I don't think so. If I'm going to get to the bottom of what's really going on, I need to keep my wits about me. And being in bed with you is not going to do that. I'll sleep on the couch."

"Okay," she said getting up. "Well, since you're no fun, I'm going to go to bed."

He watched her leave the room and then counted to five before picking up his cell phone. "Hey, Thomas. Did any fax or package come through for me in the past couple hours? No. Interesting. Thanks."

So it looked like the Covenant wasn't telling him the truth about what had happened to his memories. But that didn't make it clear that Sydney was telling the truth. Though it did give her theory some strong support.

Within seconds of him hanging up, he heard Sydney leave the bedroom. "I brought you something to sleep in," she said as she handed him clothes he recognized as his.

"Thank you. Goodnight, Sydney."

He expected her to turn around and leave, which is why it was so surprising when she reached over and pulled his face to hers. "That's not how we say goodnight, tiger." She kissed him lightly and then tapped him lightly on the nose. Just before she left the room, she turned around and added, "That's not how, either. But I'm giving you a break. Next time, it'll be the smoldering kiss. Goodnight, Julian."

"Night, Sydney," he said, silently thanking whoever was responsible for her letting him off lightly. It was hard to resist a pretty woman who kept offering herself to him, no matter the circumstance.

He changed quickly and flopped back down on the couch. There had to be some sort of good late night television on. It always seemed like some channel was playing Mortal Kombat or some equally good "bad" movie.

He didn't flinch as a piercing pain went through his head. The pain was quickly replaced by a few choice images. Sydney standing in front of him, loosening her dress and letting it pool at her feet. Her hands on his back, cutting into his skin and mixing pleasure with pain. Her biting his lip in passion and grinning up at him wickedly.

He wish he could tell if this was another real memory or a work of fiction dreamed up in his head. Either way, it wasn't an unpleasant thought.

Sighing, he tried to push all thoughts of Sydney and her grin out of his head.

It was going to be a long night.