Please start giving me feed back! I have to know what to do to improve.
As for this chapter, phew, I had to figure something out. I hope it's
interesting.
Thank you to my reviewers. It's hard to write something without feedback and I really appreciate your thoughts.
As for the title, the meaning will come up in a few chapters, but for now, in Shakespearian theatres, there was a fake roof over the stage and above this roof was a hut.
~~~~
"I'm fine."
What a lie. She was talking to her committable brother- her brother!- and had just woken from a dream kiss with a truly wonderful man who shouldn't be back in her dreams at all. The kiss she thoroughly enjoyed in her dreams seemed all too real and she worried that she wanted to kiss him more. She could even think what it would feel like with his chapstick on her lips. The kind with stuff in it that made her lips tingle a bit.
Maybe it was the memory of receiving such a kiss that made her lips tingle.
"Agent Bristow? Are you still with me or did you hit your head as well?" Sark struggled to sit up, but finally opted to rest his head on the top edge of the couch back.
She focused back on Sark, pulling herself out of her daydream. "I always wanted a brother."
"It's a shame it's wasted on me then."
She chuckled softly and responded thoughtfully, "well, I've always treated you like a sibling. I keep beating the crap out of you. I want to kill you. That sounds like a brother to me."
"Hilarious, Agent Bristow. You have obviously been hanging out with Agent Weiss for too long." Sark studied Sydney and smirked. "There's that look again."
"What are you rambling about this time?"
Sark squinted his eyes and pursed his lips, "you should know, a spy hardly ever reveals the truth."
That was a fact that Sydney had fought with for what seemed like an eternity.
*~*~*
Thankfully the doctor gave Sark a sedative which kept him knocked out for the remainder of the train ride, the transfer to the private jet Jack had set up, and the majority of the plane ride. Eric was working hard with the deposition he had to write to explain Sark so Sydney had lots of time to think. Too much time.
She thought about the kiss. A lot. About how much her life was screwed up but there was always that one man who had been there. Even when they couldn't be because of... technicalities.
*~*~*
There was never a more beautiful sight to Sydney than seeing the American flags flying high at the airport when she arrived home. Eric put a comforting hand on her shoulder and guided her toward a conference room inside the terminal, Sark close in tow.
She left Eric's side to hide in the comfort of her father's arms. Growing up, she hadn't realized how wonderfully comforting a hug from her father could be. Now, she never wanted to stop hugging him. But, Dixon cleared his throat and began to speak with Eric about the debrief. Sark sat quietly in the corner of the room, handcuffed to a chair and still a bit dazed from the preceding days' events.
"Alright, Weiss. We received the preliminaries of your report and it's good. If you only wrote the real things so well."
"What do we have, Weiss?" Jack's manner was cool and distant, as if he hadn't ever talked with Eric before. As if he hadn't asked him to save his daughter.
Clearing his throat, Eric pulled out a photograph of a group of men and showed it to Jack and Sydney. "The man in the center is Yegor Gurov; known Versteckt de Organisatie Thamâniya leader. VO8 is so evil even the Alliance wouldn't tango with them. The name is a compilation of words from each of the main founder's languages: German, Dutch and Arabic. Gurov killed them and took over operations.
"The mission: we received intel. from one of my contacts who had intercepted a message from Gurov to her husband and passed it along to Sydney and me. Due to the need to protect her identity, the four of us discussed an operation that would take care of the situation."
"What was the intel?"
"That Gurov had obtained a Rambaldi artifact." Eric paused and licked his upper lip. Frankly, the Rambaldi line was getting old to him, but it took care of the obscure. "The Vessel. It's a useless parchment that Black Hole has so the story will fit."
"Why's that? Won't they know they still have it?" Sydney didn't understand the looks that the three men offered but finally the clouds cleared. "They don't still have it, do they?"
"Your father and Director Dixon took care of it this morning. As for Sark, he received the same information from a similar source and we captured him."
"What about Sark? All he'll have to do is say differently and our story will be blown."
Sark cleared his throat and everyone looked at him. "While that may be true, who would believe me against the four of you? And, if we cut a deal, I'll keep quiet."
"Sark, we don't deal with vile men."
"You haven't heard my plan."
~*~*~
They left the room with Sark surrounded. His plan was absurd but Sydney didn't care about it. She just wanted to get home, take a well deserved shower, and sleep. Her lip was killing her from a small split from the fight and she added take pain killers to her list of things to do.
"Are you doing all right?"
Eric was figuring her out easier these days and she wondered if she'd let her guard down too much with him.
"I could really use some chapstick."
"Here," he said, handing her his, "I promise I don't have cuties, Bristow."
Chuckling, she covered her dry lips and enjoyed the tingle that the chapstick gave them.
~*~
~*~
Okay, so what do you think? Finals are wreaking havoc on me so sorry for the delay of this chapter. It should be smooth sailing from here on out!
Thank you to my reviewers. It's hard to write something without feedback and I really appreciate your thoughts.
As for the title, the meaning will come up in a few chapters, but for now, in Shakespearian theatres, there was a fake roof over the stage and above this roof was a hut.
~~~~
"I'm fine."
What a lie. She was talking to her committable brother- her brother!- and had just woken from a dream kiss with a truly wonderful man who shouldn't be back in her dreams at all. The kiss she thoroughly enjoyed in her dreams seemed all too real and she worried that she wanted to kiss him more. She could even think what it would feel like with his chapstick on her lips. The kind with stuff in it that made her lips tingle a bit.
Maybe it was the memory of receiving such a kiss that made her lips tingle.
"Agent Bristow? Are you still with me or did you hit your head as well?" Sark struggled to sit up, but finally opted to rest his head on the top edge of the couch back.
She focused back on Sark, pulling herself out of her daydream. "I always wanted a brother."
"It's a shame it's wasted on me then."
She chuckled softly and responded thoughtfully, "well, I've always treated you like a sibling. I keep beating the crap out of you. I want to kill you. That sounds like a brother to me."
"Hilarious, Agent Bristow. You have obviously been hanging out with Agent Weiss for too long." Sark studied Sydney and smirked. "There's that look again."
"What are you rambling about this time?"
Sark squinted his eyes and pursed his lips, "you should know, a spy hardly ever reveals the truth."
That was a fact that Sydney had fought with for what seemed like an eternity.
*~*~*
Thankfully the doctor gave Sark a sedative which kept him knocked out for the remainder of the train ride, the transfer to the private jet Jack had set up, and the majority of the plane ride. Eric was working hard with the deposition he had to write to explain Sark so Sydney had lots of time to think. Too much time.
She thought about the kiss. A lot. About how much her life was screwed up but there was always that one man who had been there. Even when they couldn't be because of... technicalities.
*~*~*
There was never a more beautiful sight to Sydney than seeing the American flags flying high at the airport when she arrived home. Eric put a comforting hand on her shoulder and guided her toward a conference room inside the terminal, Sark close in tow.
She left Eric's side to hide in the comfort of her father's arms. Growing up, she hadn't realized how wonderfully comforting a hug from her father could be. Now, she never wanted to stop hugging him. But, Dixon cleared his throat and began to speak with Eric about the debrief. Sark sat quietly in the corner of the room, handcuffed to a chair and still a bit dazed from the preceding days' events.
"Alright, Weiss. We received the preliminaries of your report and it's good. If you only wrote the real things so well."
"What do we have, Weiss?" Jack's manner was cool and distant, as if he hadn't ever talked with Eric before. As if he hadn't asked him to save his daughter.
Clearing his throat, Eric pulled out a photograph of a group of men and showed it to Jack and Sydney. "The man in the center is Yegor Gurov; known Versteckt de Organisatie Thamâniya leader. VO8 is so evil even the Alliance wouldn't tango with them. The name is a compilation of words from each of the main founder's languages: German, Dutch and Arabic. Gurov killed them and took over operations.
"The mission: we received intel. from one of my contacts who had intercepted a message from Gurov to her husband and passed it along to Sydney and me. Due to the need to protect her identity, the four of us discussed an operation that would take care of the situation."
"What was the intel?"
"That Gurov had obtained a Rambaldi artifact." Eric paused and licked his upper lip. Frankly, the Rambaldi line was getting old to him, but it took care of the obscure. "The Vessel. It's a useless parchment that Black Hole has so the story will fit."
"Why's that? Won't they know they still have it?" Sydney didn't understand the looks that the three men offered but finally the clouds cleared. "They don't still have it, do they?"
"Your father and Director Dixon took care of it this morning. As for Sark, he received the same information from a similar source and we captured him."
"What about Sark? All he'll have to do is say differently and our story will be blown."
Sark cleared his throat and everyone looked at him. "While that may be true, who would believe me against the four of you? And, if we cut a deal, I'll keep quiet."
"Sark, we don't deal with vile men."
"You haven't heard my plan."
~*~*~
They left the room with Sark surrounded. His plan was absurd but Sydney didn't care about it. She just wanted to get home, take a well deserved shower, and sleep. Her lip was killing her from a small split from the fight and she added take pain killers to her list of things to do.
"Are you doing all right?"
Eric was figuring her out easier these days and she wondered if she'd let her guard down too much with him.
"I could really use some chapstick."
"Here," he said, handing her his, "I promise I don't have cuties, Bristow."
Chuckling, she covered her dry lips and enjoyed the tingle that the chapstick gave them.
~*~
~*~
Okay, so what do you think? Finals are wreaking havoc on me so sorry for the delay of this chapter. It should be smooth sailing from here on out!