Author's Note: Sorry this chapter has taken so long guys...I hope to have the next one up sooner next time.

Cheeky.

Part Ten:

I smiled slightly at Sark, watching the warm expression in his blue eyes. It felt so precious to see Sark like this, because I knew how he rarely showed anything other than a cold, business-like mask. "We should start moving." I said.

Julian nodded, his expression wistful. I knew how he felt. I didn't really want this moment to end either. Sark got up slowly, wincing when he was forced to move his shoulder. I stood up just as carefully as Sark, exhausted and wary of my head. When the world didn't spin or fade, I breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing we needed right now was for me to pass out.

Once I was standing, I looked around for the bag I had gone to so much trouble to retrieve. I spotted it about two meters away, a little downstream. I walked over and grabbed it, mud oozing uncomfortably between my toes.

"Sydney, what are you doing?" Sark asked curiously.

"Getting my bag." I replied.

Sark watched me curiously as I walked over to the large (and thankfully waterproof) black bag. "What's in it?" Sark asked.

"A change of clothes, shoes, passport, money, another gun and some more ammo." I said, dumping the bag at his feet.

Sark let out a low chuckle which sent shivers up and down my spine. And it wasn't an unpleasant feeling. "You're always ready for any situation, aren't you?" he said.

Yes, I was...well, almost any situation. I hadn't been prepared for being kidnapped by a terrorist organisation and losing two years of my life. But then who would think that's even a possibility?

I smiled softly at Sark, before crouching down and opening the bag. I dug through it and came out with a change of clothes for both of us. "Sorry." I said to Sark. "No Armani."

Julian flashed me a half-smile and took the clothes. "Where did you get these?" he asked curiously, watching me take out my own change of clothes.

"From the plane." I told him. "I thought you might need them."

He nodded. "You were right." He said.

I shot him an impish smile. "I always am." I quipped. "I'm going to find a tree to change behind."

Gathering my clothes, I walked down the bank a little until I found a big enough tree to duck behind. I grimaced when I looked down, noticing the dried mud all over my legs and arms. Sighing, I walked over to the river and put my clothes on a nearby rock. I glanced warily down at the grey water, before gritting my teeth.

Bending down, I grabbed a handful of icy water and began to wash. I shivered where the water touched my warm skin. I got rid of as much mud as I could, before changing into a pair of jeans and a light sweater. I grimaced when I shoved my still wet feet into my socks. I really felt like a shower about now.

As I walked back to where I had left Sark, I ran my fingers through my muddy, knotty hair in an effort to neaten it. I stopped a couple of metres away, staring at a bare-chested Sark who was trying to wash the blood and mud from his shoulder. Of course, I could only see his back as he was crouching by the river, but the sight still stopped me in my tracks.

A memory flashed unbidden into my mind. I remembered running my hands up and down that back, feeling the hot flesh and hard muscle beneath my touch. I remembered kissing and licking every one of those scars, my hands digging into those shoulders as I...

I flushed hotly. Where the hell had that come from? I felt uncomfortable with the knowledge I had once been Sark's lover. While I may have accepted the fact that I cared for him – I was still reluctant to call it anything else – as truth, I was still kind of weirded out by the whole situation. I had some serious thinking to do, both about my memories and my emotions.

"Sydney," Sark said, standing carefully. I wasn't surprised that he knew I was there – he wouldn't have been as good a spy as I knew he was if he hadn't. "Can you help me with this?"

"Of course." I said, dropping the dress in the bag and stepping forward.

I walked forward and carefully helped Sark ease into the clean shirt, noticing the grimace of pain as he did so. I frowned. His wounded shoulder seemed to be worse today than it had been last night. I have to take another look at it. Sark winced as he reached up to do up the buttons.

"Let me." I said, brushing his hands away.

I stepped closer to him, coming face to face with Sark's bare muscled chest. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea. I felt an impulsive urge to lean forward and kiss the exposed flesh, but I quickly shoved that thought away. I did up the buttons as fast as I could and steeped back. "There, done." I said.

"Thank you." Sark said softly.

I smiled, not quite meeting Sark's eyes and walked back to the bag, throwing Sark's ruined clothes on top of mine. I also reached in and grabbed the gun, checking it was loaded, before shoving it in my waistband. "Let's get out of here." I said, swinging the bag over my shoulder.

The sun was high in the sky before we reached the road. It had been tough going, leaving little time for talk – and Sark's shoulder had been paining him enough already. From there, we managed to hitch a lift to the nearest town with a cheerful man who had looked at us in curiosity, but asked no questions.

Once we had thanked him and said goodbye to Hans, Sark went in search of a payphone. When he found one, he had a short, quiet conversation in French with the person on the other end of the line.

"Is everything all right?" I asked when he had finished.

"It's as to be expected." He replied. "They sent someone to the airport while they were dealing with us."

I didn't need to be told who 'they' were. "Jacques was quick enough to notice and flew off before they could catch him." Sark continued. "He's going to meet us in Germany."

I nodded, realising Jacques was Sark's pilot. "Well, we can worry about that tomorrow." I said. "Right now I suggest we find somewhere we can sleep and I can take another look at your shoulder."

Sark nodded tiredly. "I noticed a motel about a black away."

The motel was slightly seedy and rundown, but it was cheap and the clerk on duty didn't ask any questions. After the room was paid for, I left Sark sitting on the grimy bed and went in search of medicinal supplies. By now it was late evening, and the small number of shops in the town all seemed to be shut. In the end, the best I could come up with was whiskey and a few rough bandages. It would have to do for now.

I made my way back to the motel room, looking forward to taking a hot shower. When I carefully opened the door, I noticed Sark jerk up from where he had been dozing on the bed. "It's only me." I said.

Sark nodded, still wincing slightly. He lay back down on the bed. I shut the door and locked it behind me. "Come on." I said to Sark. "You need to have a shower."

Sark mumbled something, but didn't move. "Now, Julian." I said firmly.

Sark smiled softly, and opened his eyes to stare at me. "I like it when you say that." He said.

"Say what?" I asked, puzzled.

"My name."

I smiled at him. "Well, I like saying it." I said. "Now go get a shower."

Sark flashed me a familiar smirk. "Only if you come with me." He said, sitting up.

I put my hands on my hips and realised Sark must be feeling better if he was teasing me. "Shower." I said. "Go. Now."

"Yes, Sydney." He said, standing up and walking to the bathroom, stopping only to give me a quick kiss on the cheek.

"What was that for?" I asked.

"For sounding like my mother." Sark said, disappearing into the bathroom.

I blinked in surprise. That was twice now that Sark had revealed something about himself without being prompted. It wasn't like him. Then I sighed. Yes, actually it was – when you had his trust. I couldn't keep the smile off my face at the thought of being one of the people Julian Sark really trusted.

While Sark took a quick shower, I brought out the rest of my purchases. Shampoo (which I should probably have offered Sark), whiskey, bandages and the only food I could find that wasn't fried and greasy: bread rolls and cheese. I sighed. It wouldn't matter, since we'd be leaving tomorrow morning, but hungry as I was, it was hard to find the stale rolls and cheese appetising.

I ate my dinner quickly, because I was hungry and gathered up one of the threadbare towels provided when Sark came out of the bathroom. All he wore was his jeans and I was momentarily distracted by his muscular chest. "The bathroom's free." He said, his tone one of faint amusement.

Blushing, I fled to the bathroom. I had to get a hold of myself! I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Okay, aside from having to stop acting like a hormonal teenager, I was still trying to get a grip on everything that had happened in the last two years. I sighed and decided to forget about it while I had a nice, relaxing shower – and finally get some mud out of my hair.

About twenty minutes later I felt a whole lot better, even though (having decided to wash it) I wore no underwear. I hadn't really wanted to wear dirty underwear and I hated the feeling of being underwear-less. But what could you do?

Taking a deep breath of warm moist air, I gathered my confidence and opened the bathroom door. I walked out and noticed as soon as I did that Sark had eaten the bread and cheese I had left for him. He was waiting patiently on the bed. "So where do you want to do this?" he asked.

I blinked, frozen in shock. "Sydney?" he said, holding up the bottle of whiskey. "Unless, of course, you're planning on getting drunk?"

I breathed a silent sigh of relief. For a moment there I had thought...never mind what I had thought. I wasn't going to go there. "Near the bath would probably be best." I said.

He nodded and followed me into the bathroom. "This is going to sting like hell." I warned as I unscrewed the lid of the whiskey bottle.

Sark tensed slightly and leaned back. I poured some of the whiskey over the wound and heard Sark's sharp intake of breath. "Here." I said, handing him the bottle.

He took a large swallow, before setting the bottle down. Now that the wound was clear of all the dried blood, I could see that the wound was a little more serious than I had first thought. The bullet had nicked part of the muscle, which probably explained why it appeared to hurt so much. I bound Sark's shoulder tightly with the bandages. "You need to get someone to look at that." I said.

"Okay." Sark said roughly.

I moved slightly so I could see Sark's face. His eyes were squeezed shut and his left hand was curled into a fist. "Are you all right?" I asked, concerned.

"No." Sark said shortly.

"What's wrong?"

"Right now?" Sark asked, opening his blue eyes. "A lot of things."

"Like what?" I asked, sitting beside him on the edge of the bath.

"Me. You." He shut his eyes again. "My shoulder."

"Julian..." I began, but at that moment Sark opened his eyes again and stood up.

"I'm going to get some sleep." He said.

I followed him out of the bathroom. "What is it that's bothering you?" I asked as I walked after him.

"Nothing." He sat down on the bed.

"Bullshit." I snapped, coming to stand in front of him. "What's bothering you, Julian?"

"You really want to know?" he snapped back, glaring up at me.

"Yes."

Looking me straight in the eye, Sark said. "What's bothering me is you remembering everything."

I tried not to wince at his words, but they fell like a blow. "Why?" I asked softly.

Sark ran his left hand over his face. "Because I'm a monster, Sydney." He whispered. "And you can't afford to care about me."

Suddenly, I understood. I realised he truly cared about me and didn't want me to get drawn into his world. Just like he had before. What he still didn't realise was that I was already in his world – and I had been for years.

"Well, I'll just have to tell you again what I told you before: I already care about you and I'm not going to stop just because you don't want to risk admitting you care too." I said. "And you're not a monster. Arvin Sloane is a monster. Not you."

Sark sat there for a minute in silence, his eyes still shut. "You're going to be stubborn about this, aren't you?" he said finally.

"Damn right I am."

"Sydney..."

"No, don't 'Sydney' me. I'm not going to change my mind." I said firmly.

"And what exactly are you going to tell your father? The CIA?" Sark asked. "What's going to happen once you get home?"

I blinked in surprise. I hadn't even thought about that. I had been so consumed and preoccupied by my newfound memories that I hadn't really thought about what it would mean when I got back.

"I always understood this would be a temporary thing, Syd. It can't last."

"Why?" I snapped, annoyed. "Why can't it last?"

"Because you're going home to your family and friends. To Vaughn." Sark said quietly.

"Vaughn?" I echoed.

"He still loves you, Syd. He'll give you the normal life you crave so much."

I looked at Sark incredulously. "What makes everyone so Goddamn sure I'm going to run back to Vaughn?" I yelled, not really at Sark, but at anything that could give me an answer. "Despite the fact he is married to another woman?"

"Because you love him."

I whirled back to glare at Sark. "No I don't!"

Sark blinked in surprise. "You don't?"

"No." I said more quietly this time. "I did once, but not anymore."

"Why?" Sark asked.

"Because we've both changed. Because we see the world differently. And because if he really loved me he wouldn't have married someone else so soon."

I sat down beside him on the bed. "And who said I wanted to have a normal life anyway?"

Sark gave me a funny look. "You did."

"Well, I can change my mind, can't I?"

Sark smiled. "Yes, you can. But my I ask what prompted this change?"

Now it was my turn to smile. "Because I'd miss it. The challenge and the excitement. Maybe not getting shot at, though." I felt myself turn more serious. "But most of all, I'd miss the way I get to help change the world. I'm keeping it safe so that other women like me can go to school, fall in love, have children. I'm making sure that someday men, like Arvin Sloane, don't destroy all that. I can't stop doing that Sark. I can't pretend the world's a safe place anymore."

Sark smiled and shook his head. "You're amazing, you know that?" he said.

I raised an eyebrow in curiosity. Sark just smiled at me. And, boy, did he have a knockout smile. His eyes sparkled and he just looked so happy. It struck me then just how young he was to have done so much. I searched my memories, but couldn't remember Julian ever telling me his age.

"How old are you?" I asked.

Sark's grin faded. "Why do you want to know?"

"Just curious." I said. "I'll tell you how old I am."

"I already know how old you are." Sark said.

"Oh?"

He smirked at me. "29."

Then he shook his head. "If you must know, I'm 26." He said.

"I always thought you were older than that. Because...well, you just know everything."

"Your mother was a good teacher." He said.

I nodded, not really sure what to say to that. "She misses you, you know." Sark said.

"Really?"

"Irina may be a lot of things, Syd, but she does care about her daughter."

"I care about her too." I whispered. "She is my mother, no matter what anyone says."

"She knows." Sark told me.

I sighed and glanced at the clock, trying to break my now melancholy mood. 8pm. "I'm going to get some sleep." I said.

Sark ran his hand tiredly over his face. "Good idea." He said.

I noticed how tired he looked and nodded. I crawled into bed, and felt Sark crawl in beside me, careful to give me some space. I smiled as I thought how this brought new meaning to the concept of sleeping-with-the-enemy. But, perhaps, something stranger than that, was that I didn't think of Sark as an enemy anymore. I'm not sure what that made him though, aside form the man I cared about.

I yawned with exhaustion and turned unthinking towards Sark, wanting the comfort I knew I could find in his arms. I snuggled closer and felt Sark arms curl around me. It was a reassuring feeling that I knew I had missed. I drifted off to sleep almost immediately, a soft smile on my face.

I don't know what it was, but something woke me at about 5am. The sky was still dark, as was the room. Something was wrong. I could feel it.

I was still lying curled in Sark's arms. He was lying on his good shoulder, one hand resting on my hip as I lay against his chest. It was a familiar sensation, but not the one that had woken me.

I could tell by the slight way his muscles tensed that Sark was awake too. "Outside." He whispered.

I nodded and slipped out of the bed, immediately missing the warmth and comfort. I walked towards the door, already having my gun in my hand – I had hidden it under my pillow, just in case. I held it in front of me, pointed at the floor.

I felt Sark moving behind me, slightly stiffly. He crept up to the other side of the door, a gun in his hands. I raised an eyebrow curiously at him. Where had that come from? Sark merely smirked at me. He wasn't going to tell me all his secrets just yet.

As we listened quietly, we began to hear faint sounds coming towards us. It seemed we had company. Five minutes later, six Covenant agents burst into the room. I saw their surprise at the empty bed. I moved quickly.

I kicked one of the men from behind, shoving him into one of his team mates. I gave him a punch to the kidneys, before kicking his friend in the head. Both me dropped to the floor. The remaining operatives turned, pointing their guns at me. I pointed my gun straight back, my heart hammering with adrenaline and fear. "I wouldn't do that, gentlemen." Came Sark's smooth voice from behind them.

Two of the men glanced nervously behind them, and one swallowed noisily. "Mr. Sark." He said.

"Andrew." Sark greeted, his voice cold. "Drop the guns."

One of the other men – the leader by the look of him – tightened his grip on the gun pointed at me. "I think it's you who should drop the gun." He said. "You can't shoot us all before we shoot her."

Sark cocked his gun. It really was a menacing sound. "Are you willing to stake your life on that?" he asked mildly.

The leader looked nervous for a second, before his expression hardened again. "I won't ask you again."

I raised an eyebrow at Julian. He nodded. "Let her go." He warned again.

"No." the leader said.

Suddenly he spun, turning towards Sark. Two of the others opened fire on me. The instant I had seen the leader begin to move, I had dropped and rolled, before coming up and shooting the leader twice in the back. The bullets aimed at me missed as the agents looked on in surprise. The gunshots seemed to echo in the early morning air. Sark dealt with the two agents firing at me, as I shot the remaining goon before he could fire.

As soon as all the men were down, I leapt forward and grabbed money and my passport out of the black bag. When I turned back, I noticed Sark had pulled on his shirt, although it still hung open at the front. Not that I minded. "Let's go." He said.

I nodded and raced out the door, not knowing if there were more agents out there. I ran out of the motel, trying to stay in the shadows as much as possible. We only saw one agent outside. He was standing by a black SUV and never even realised we were there. Sark knocked him out as I made sure there was no one else in the car. And before anyone could stop us, Sark and I jumped into the SUV and roared off.