Sydney looked up and appeared to be somewhat shocked but then recovered by
saying, "Mr. Sark, to what do I owe this pleasure?" rather coolly.
Sark's own smirk increased as he saw a blemish within Sydney Bristow's composed manner.
"Well Syd," he continued as she flinched due to his use of her nickname. He was fully aware that she used to hear it from Michael Vaughn, and he laughed at the fact that he was now married and would never speak that name romantically again. "I just thought we'd have a little chat"
"In regards to what Sark?" Sydney questioned in her usual sarcastic tone.
Sark smiled as her usual manner returned to her and smiled even more when he said, "About you Sydney, about your life now that you have come back from the 'dead'"
Sydney inwardly flinched, but Sark saw it and jumped on it.
"What? Not comfortable with that topic Syd? Well that is a shame, because I'm afraid my dear Sydney, that that is all I want to talk about." Sark's smirk widened to its greatest extent when he realized he now had the upper hand.
"What the hell do you want Sark?" Sydney asked rather forcefully.
"Sydney Sydney, I do think you're losing your touch," Sark replied almost bored, "isn't it obvious? Sydney, I want you."
"Me?!" Sydney asked now beginning to look fairly frightened.
Sark nodded and continued, "Sydney, quite simply before I release you, you will be a broken woman."
Sark allowed his words to sink in before he said, "If you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to, I will be back soon and we can chat a little more."
With that Sark turned and left the cell, leaving a very openly scared Sydney in his wake.
Sark returned back to his office to think. He had no true business to attend to; he simply wanted to plan how he was going to go about this.
Sark knew his main plan of attack would revolve around Michael Vaughn: the fact that he was no longer hers and more importantly the fact that he wasn't going to come save her from him this time. He also knew that as much as Sydney was trying to hide the pain of losing Vaughn, it was crushing her, swallowing her slowly.
He wanted to point out how she had lost her best friend, Francie. He wanted to point out that even when she was so sure Michael would be back in LA with open arms for her, he had been with Lauren Reed. He wanted to bring the anger that he knew she felt towards Lauren to the surface. He wanted to bring the pain back into her eyes.
He was ready.
O O O O O O O O Sydney O O O O O O
She wasn't.
Sydney had finally admitted it to herself: she was scared. She didn't know what Sark was planning but it couldn't be good, right?
Her mind began to wander. No one even knew she was gone. No one was going to try to come after her anytime soon; she'd have to stick it out. She couldn't think about that though. She'd get through it. She'd gotten through her missing two years, hadn't she?
When her cell door opened she was prepared to put back on the straight face. The mask she had so perfected over the years.
O O O O O O Sark O O O O O O
Sark walked into her cell again just as calmly as before. He noticed she had the same look as always, and it made him sick.
"Sydney." He said with a slight nod.
"Sark." She shot directly back, he knew she would, her reply seemed bitter.
Sark sat down directly across from her, and took a moment to study her. He noted her tousled hair framing her somewhat annoyed expression and defiant eyes. He was amazed, that even in the worst conditions she still looked stunning.
"Comfortable?" He questioned.
"Always." She countered in her usual tone. She talked as if she was in control. She turned her head away from him, not giving him the satisfaction of eye-to-eye contact. She wouldn't give him the chance to upset her.
He began softly, seeming almost compassionate, when he asked, "Do you miss him, Sydney?"
Her head jerked back up and her eyes flew onto him burning his skin with her intense gaze.
"Who?" she asked, it clearly evident that he had touched a nerve.
"Michael Vaughn." He answered, as if they were simply talking about the weather or a good movie he had recently seen.
"Sark, my life has nothing to do with you." She said in a tone in which each word make Sark's very heart twinge.
He answered in his most threatening and yet calm voice when he said, "I believe it does Ms. Bristow, as you will soon see. So answer me, do you miss him? Do you miss Michael Vaughn? Do you miss what you had with him in the past?"
She looked away and said nothing.
"Look at me Sydney, or I will make you. You don't want me to do that, do you?"
Sydney followed his gaze and met his eyes reluctantly.
"Do you?" he inquired again, this time more firmly.
"No." she said, the retort was meant to be convincing, but it had quite the opposite effect.
"Now Sydney, you didn't say that with much conviction, did you? Answer me with honesty and I may be less, shall we say forceful. Now do you miss him?" He pestered her once again.
She realized what she was going to have to do, but it didn't change the fact that she didn't want to.
Recognizing the fact that Sydney would need some extra encouragement, Sark stood from his stool and approached her. He moved his hand to stroke her cheek. He smiled when she turned her face as far away from his caress as she could.
He brought his face inches from hers before he said, "Sydney, don't make me get angry, you won't like it. It is a simple question, is it not?"
In more of a whisper then anything she said, "I. ....bite me." (Sorry, lol I had to use it!) And with that the defiant look was back in place and he realized he would have to use further methods to persuade her to answer.
Sark's fist swiftly descended and struck her cheek ruthlessly. On impact her head was thrown to the left and only stopped when it crashed into the head support of her chair.
She looked back up at him with a cut below her right eye. He could tell it was already swelling. "Have an answer for me yet, Sydney?" he asked slightly out of breath from his outburst.
"No." she said, though clenched teeth, it becoming obvious she wasn't going to offer him anything easily.
In his anger his fist connected again, now with the left side of her face with such force she slumped in her chair and blood flowed freely from a new cut just along her cheekbone.
"I'll be back." He said as he stormed out of the cell and briskly walked back to his office.
Sark's own smirk increased as he saw a blemish within Sydney Bristow's composed manner.
"Well Syd," he continued as she flinched due to his use of her nickname. He was fully aware that she used to hear it from Michael Vaughn, and he laughed at the fact that he was now married and would never speak that name romantically again. "I just thought we'd have a little chat"
"In regards to what Sark?" Sydney questioned in her usual sarcastic tone.
Sark smiled as her usual manner returned to her and smiled even more when he said, "About you Sydney, about your life now that you have come back from the 'dead'"
Sydney inwardly flinched, but Sark saw it and jumped on it.
"What? Not comfortable with that topic Syd? Well that is a shame, because I'm afraid my dear Sydney, that that is all I want to talk about." Sark's smirk widened to its greatest extent when he realized he now had the upper hand.
"What the hell do you want Sark?" Sydney asked rather forcefully.
"Sydney Sydney, I do think you're losing your touch," Sark replied almost bored, "isn't it obvious? Sydney, I want you."
"Me?!" Sydney asked now beginning to look fairly frightened.
Sark nodded and continued, "Sydney, quite simply before I release you, you will be a broken woman."
Sark allowed his words to sink in before he said, "If you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to, I will be back soon and we can chat a little more."
With that Sark turned and left the cell, leaving a very openly scared Sydney in his wake.
Sark returned back to his office to think. He had no true business to attend to; he simply wanted to plan how he was going to go about this.
Sark knew his main plan of attack would revolve around Michael Vaughn: the fact that he was no longer hers and more importantly the fact that he wasn't going to come save her from him this time. He also knew that as much as Sydney was trying to hide the pain of losing Vaughn, it was crushing her, swallowing her slowly.
He wanted to point out how she had lost her best friend, Francie. He wanted to point out that even when she was so sure Michael would be back in LA with open arms for her, he had been with Lauren Reed. He wanted to bring the anger that he knew she felt towards Lauren to the surface. He wanted to bring the pain back into her eyes.
He was ready.
O O O O O O O O Sydney O O O O O O
She wasn't.
Sydney had finally admitted it to herself: she was scared. She didn't know what Sark was planning but it couldn't be good, right?
Her mind began to wander. No one even knew she was gone. No one was going to try to come after her anytime soon; she'd have to stick it out. She couldn't think about that though. She'd get through it. She'd gotten through her missing two years, hadn't she?
When her cell door opened she was prepared to put back on the straight face. The mask she had so perfected over the years.
O O O O O O Sark O O O O O O
Sark walked into her cell again just as calmly as before. He noticed she had the same look as always, and it made him sick.
"Sydney." He said with a slight nod.
"Sark." She shot directly back, he knew she would, her reply seemed bitter.
Sark sat down directly across from her, and took a moment to study her. He noted her tousled hair framing her somewhat annoyed expression and defiant eyes. He was amazed, that even in the worst conditions she still looked stunning.
"Comfortable?" He questioned.
"Always." She countered in her usual tone. She talked as if she was in control. She turned her head away from him, not giving him the satisfaction of eye-to-eye contact. She wouldn't give him the chance to upset her.
He began softly, seeming almost compassionate, when he asked, "Do you miss him, Sydney?"
Her head jerked back up and her eyes flew onto him burning his skin with her intense gaze.
"Who?" she asked, it clearly evident that he had touched a nerve.
"Michael Vaughn." He answered, as if they were simply talking about the weather or a good movie he had recently seen.
"Sark, my life has nothing to do with you." She said in a tone in which each word make Sark's very heart twinge.
He answered in his most threatening and yet calm voice when he said, "I believe it does Ms. Bristow, as you will soon see. So answer me, do you miss him? Do you miss Michael Vaughn? Do you miss what you had with him in the past?"
She looked away and said nothing.
"Look at me Sydney, or I will make you. You don't want me to do that, do you?"
Sydney followed his gaze and met his eyes reluctantly.
"Do you?" he inquired again, this time more firmly.
"No." she said, the retort was meant to be convincing, but it had quite the opposite effect.
"Now Sydney, you didn't say that with much conviction, did you? Answer me with honesty and I may be less, shall we say forceful. Now do you miss him?" He pestered her once again.
She realized what she was going to have to do, but it didn't change the fact that she didn't want to.
Recognizing the fact that Sydney would need some extra encouragement, Sark stood from his stool and approached her. He moved his hand to stroke her cheek. He smiled when she turned her face as far away from his caress as she could.
He brought his face inches from hers before he said, "Sydney, don't make me get angry, you won't like it. It is a simple question, is it not?"
In more of a whisper then anything she said, "I. ....bite me." (Sorry, lol I had to use it!) And with that the defiant look was back in place and he realized he would have to use further methods to persuade her to answer.
Sark's fist swiftly descended and struck her cheek ruthlessly. On impact her head was thrown to the left and only stopped when it crashed into the head support of her chair.
She looked back up at him with a cut below her right eye. He could tell it was already swelling. "Have an answer for me yet, Sydney?" he asked slightly out of breath from his outburst.
"No." she said, though clenched teeth, it becoming obvious she wasn't going to offer him anything easily.
In his anger his fist connected again, now with the left side of her face with such force she slumped in her chair and blood flowed freely from a new cut just along her cheekbone.
"I'll be back." He said as he stormed out of the cell and briskly walked back to his office.