Author's Note: Okay guys, here's another chapter. I just couldn't stop writing once I had started. But I have to stop now. I have a zillion tonnes of homework...and besides, my tutor's are starting to give me evil looks. I have to go and do it now. I hope to have the next chapter up in about a week, but I can't really promise anything.

Oh, and thanks 1ange for your review! I'm glad you loved it! And stay tuned, coz you may be right...Sark might pay Syd a visit soon! A fan as well! And thanks to everyone else for their comments! Luv ya's all!

Cheeky.

Part Twelve

The NSC agents led me into a small interrogation room in the basement, not far from the cells. They sat me down in one of the metal chairs set up next to a similar metal table, a small tape recorder sitting in its centre, before leaving the room. I put my handcuffed hands on the table in front of me and tried to appear at ease.

I didn't doubt they had a camera or two watching me at the moment, and I knew it was only a matter of time before the questions began. I took a deep breath, trying to focus on the coming interrogation rather than what the hell I was going to do now. Out of all the outcomes of today I had thought of, being arrested by the NSC hadn't been one of them.

It wasn't long until Lindsey joined my in the room, accompanied by another agent. He pressed the record button on the tape recorder and turned to me. "Interview with Agent Sydney Bristow began at 0930. Agents Lindsey and Michaels attending."

Lindsey turned to look at me. "Please answer for the tape. Is your name Sydney Bristow?"

"Yes." I replied shortly.

"And are you currently an agent for the CIA?"

"Yes."

Lindsey threw a couple of photos down on the table in front of me. "And can you tell me if you recognise any of the people in these photos?" he asked.

I looked at the photos in front of me, and raised an eyebrow. It seemed the NSC had been following me for a while. There were a few pictures of me in what looked like Rome, complete with blonde hair. They must have been from my time as Julia Thorne. There was another photo of me meeting with Sark at the pier and again at the airport. They even had a picture of us kissing.

Instead of answering Lindsey's question, I simply returned to staring at him, my face betraying no emotion. I have been interrogated more than a few times during my life as a spy, and they were all a whole lot more painful than this. But I hadn't broken. Not once. Lindsey wasn't going to get anything out of me.

"Agent Bristow, answer the question!" Lindsey snapped.

I just kept staring at him. I could see he was beginning to get a little uncomfortable at my attention. "Who are you working for?" Lindsey tried another tack.

No answer. "Do you work for Mr. Sark?"

I remained silent. "Are you Mr. Sark's lover?"

"Do you work for the Covenant?" Lindsey snapped, getting annoyed.

It was at that point, Michaels put a hand on Lindsey's shoulder, as if to calm him. He slid another photo towards me. "Did you kill Adrian Lazarey?"

I looked down at the picture of me, complete with blonde hair, calmly slitting Lazarey's throat. I had to suppress a shudder at the sight. I remembered doing it now, and it was one of the things that I would regret for the rest of my life, no matter how necessary it had been.

I continued to say nothing, and after another round of questions, both agents gave up. "Interview suspended at 10:15." Lindsey said.

Then he turned to me. "Perhaps a night in a cell will make you more talkative, Miss Bristow." He said.

I looked him straight in the eyes. "You'll have to try a lot harder than that if you want to get me to talk." I told him, and had the pleasure of seeing him scowl and storm out.

Michaels also turned to leave, before giving me one last considering look. There was a hint of admiration in his eyes, as if he was acknowledging my resistance. I looked straight back at him, letting him see just how far he would have to go to get me to talk. I was not someone who would break easily, and I think he knew that.

Once he had gone, I sat in silence, knowing that the questions hadn't finished yet. Not by half.

I looked around me at the cell I had spent so much time looking into from the other side of the glass. The one in which I was now standing. My mother's cell. I thought it was rather appropriate. I sighed and rolled my shoulders, trying to ease the stiffness. I walked over and sat on the lumpy mattress that was the only covering on the old spring bed. I guess I was too evil to even get a blanket.

The round after round of interrogations had finally ended after they realised that no matter what they promised me, or threatened me with, I wasn't going to tell them anything. And, to make things worse, by now my friends and my father would know exactly what I had been charged with – and who I had been with. So much for breaking it to them gently.

I sighed again and got up, pacing from one side of my tiny cell to the other. I had to get out of here. I continued pacing, my mind whirling as I tried to think of a way out of here. I would probably need a weapon. But what? This cell had probably held a lot of enemy spies before me, and almost all of them would have tried to escape.

As my eyes searched my cell for anything I could use, I caught sight of my faint reflection in the glass. With my long brown hair unbound and my outfit of sleeveless black top, loose black pants and rubber shoes that they had made me change into, I looked just like my mother had. I had to smile at that. It was just so fitting.

My thoughts drifted to my mother and the way she had gotten out of here. But I doubted anyone here would let me near a computer. They couldn't be that stupid.

Suddenly I heard the echoing clang of metal gates opening. It seemed someone was coming to visit me. I hoped it wasn't for another round of questioning. I waited patiently to see who it would be. I can't say I really cared. I turned to see a pair of familiar green eyes staring at me.

"Sydney."

"Vaughn."

We stared at each other for a minute, his eyes searching mine for something; mine slightly bored. "Are you sleeping with him?" he finally burst out.

"Him?" I asked, pretending not to know who he meant.

"Sark."

I thought about the answer. Was I? I knew I had been, back when I was pretending to be Julia Thorne. I had the memories to prove it. But now? I hadn't yet, despite what happened on the plane. I tried hard not to blush at that memory.

I looked at Vaughn and wondered what answer to give him. In the end, I decided on the simplest would be best. "Yes."

Vaughn looked at me in horror and slight confusion. "Why?"

Because Julian accepted me. Because he understood me. Because he trusted me with his deepest, darkest secrets. Because he challenged me, frustrated me and annoyed the hell out of me. Because he would die for me. Because I loved him. And because he was as sexy as hell – not that I would ever admit the last bit to him.

I stared at Vaughn and realised he wouldn't understand all that. Vaughn saw the world too much in black and white for that. In his mind, Sark was evil and I was one of the good guys. Good and evil didn't fall in love, they just fought each other.

I cocked my head slightly to the side. "He accepts me for who I am, shadows and all." I said.

That stung. I could see it in his eyes. Vaughn had never accepted that part of me. Not really. It was the part that could let one innocent person get hurt or hurt them myself in order to save one hundred innocent people. It didn't mean I liked it, but I understood the reason. Vaughn couldn't. He was too much of a boy scout. That was one of the main differences between him and Sark. Vaughn saw the world in black and white while Julian understood it was grey.

"He accepts you?" Vaughn echoed, his tone angry and incredulous.

"Yes." I said. "What would you rather I said? I'm sleeping with him because he's cute?"

"Yes."

Vaughn's blunt answer surprised me. It also made me angry. "Well, I'm not going to lie to make you feel better." I snapped. "You've moved on with your life. And now, so have I."

"But with Sark?"

"What is your problem?" I fixed Vaughn with a hard stare. "Why are you so upset?"

"I'm upset because you're sleeping with a known terrorist1" Vaughn snapped back. "He's a cold-blooded killer!"

"No." I said. "He's a man who lives life by his own set of rules."

"I can't believe you're defending him!"

"Well, I am!" I snapped.

Vaughn stared at me in silence. "What's happened to you, Sydney?" he asked softly, his expression sad.

I looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. "I woke up after fighting Allison Doren to find I was missing two years of my life, I was thought to be dead, my boyfriend had married someone else and my father was in prison." I said.

"Only to discover," I continued. "That my memories had been taken from me and I had actually been working as a double agent against the Covenant after they tried to brainwash me into thinking I was someone else!" And discovering I had fallen in love with Julian Sark, I added silently. "That's enough to change anyone's perspective on life."

Vaughn looked at me in shock. I had forgotten Vaughn hadn't known about me being a double agent. "You were a double agent?" he asked. "The Covenant tried to brainwash you?"

"Yes." I said. "For nine months. If you want more details you'll have to ask Kendall. Or Dixon."

Vaughn was still looking at me, but I could tell he wasn't seeing me anymore. I could almost see the gears turning in his mind – and for a second I got an idea of what it felt to be my mother and watch everyone trying to find out something I already knew. It was rather weird, because I wasn't trying to manipulate Vaughn.

Vaughn suddenly turned around and left, leaving me alone with thoughts of my mother. Ironically I was beginning to understand her better now that I was in CIA custody. And understand, sort of, why she manipulated people. Even though she had never manipulated me. Not really. She had always given me enough space to figure things out on my own, and I would always respect her for that.

I sighed and lay down on the mattress. I wondered what my mother had done to stay sane in here. Probably plan her escape. I sighed again. I'd already tried that and hadn't come up with anything. Then a thought struck me. Maybe my memories held something that could help me. And if not, it was probably I sorted through them anyway. I knew most of what had happened to me during the last two years, as in the major events and feelings, but I couldn't really remember the little things. It was almost like they happened to another person.

But there was one thing I knew without a doubt – I loved Sark. It was something I had never really forgotten. The feeling had been there, making me trust Sark without knowing why. But now...now I could remember all those stolen moments together, where I could almost forget I was leading a double life – not that I had much of a life these days anyway.

I smiled softly to myself and put my arms behind my head. I remember the first time I had seen Sark after the Covenant had captured me. Back when he had thought I was dead and I still thought he was a cold-blooded murderer.

I stared at myself in the mirror, still trying to get used to the blonde hair – and the last mission I had gone on for the Covenant. It had been a straight assassination of one of the former members of the Alliance. Georg Mikailov had done some pretty evil things in his life, but that hadn't made pulling the trigger any easier. Something changed in you the minute you commit murder – something dies. It didn't make it any easier that I had had to do it to preserve my cover. I couldn't let the Covenant find out I still remembered who I was. But that murder was something that would haunt me for the rest of my life.

It was different from what I usually did, strange as it may sound. I guess its because when someone attacks you, you killing them is to protect yourself and your partner. Not staring down the sight of a rifle at someone in the street below before coldly pulling the trigger without him even knowing you are there...

"Julia?" said a voice behind me.

I turned around and banished those thoughts from my head. "Sir." I said.

The man wearing the expensive suit smiled. "How many times do I have to ask you to call me Joseph?" he said.

I smiled back, trying to hide my revulsion. "At least once more, Mr. Rhys."

Rhys chuckled. "Well, Julia, there is someone I would like you to meet."

I nodded. "Of course."

I stepped forward as Rhys held open the door, before following him down a corridor to one of the many debriefing rooms in the Covenant complex – and I saw the last man I expected to see: Sark.

"Julia, I would like to meet our new operative, Mr. Sark." Rhys said. "Mr. Sark, I'd like you to meet our new top agent, Julia Thorne. She was responsible for the recent demise of Mr. Mikailov."

Sark turned around, and I saw astonishment flicker across his features. And it surprised me. Sark never betrayed that much emotion. But the look disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, and Sark was once again the charming killer I knew so well.

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Thorne." He said.

"Likewise." I replied.

Rhys gestured to the desk, and both Sark and I sat down in front of it. Rhys sat down in the large chair behind the desk. "The Covenant believes the two of you would make a great team. So you should probably get to know each other as soon as possible."

"May I ask what the mission is?" I asked.

"You'll know as soon as we do." Rhys got up. "I'll leave you two alone to have a chat."

The two of us sat together in silence for a minute after Rhys had left, before Sark spoke. "So, Julia." He began. "What brings you to work for the Covenant?"

I thought about my answer for a second, trying to do what I had done for those two long years at SD-6. It was almost as if I became a different person; like I separated off the part of me that was Sydney Bristow and became Julia Thorne.

"Contract killing became less of a challenge that it had been, so I decided to try something new." I said bluntly, knowing Julia was the type of woman who would enjoy shocking a man like Sark.

But I can't say Sydney Bristow didn't enjoy the look of quickly hidden surprise either.

"You were a contract killer?" Sark asked, once his mask was back in place.

"I discovered I was good at it, ever since I hunted down and killed the men who murdered my family." I said.

Sark was silent for a minute, as if he wasn't sure what to say. "Forgive me for asking this, Miss Thorne, but have we ever met before?"

"I don't believe so." I replied.

"Well," Sark said. "It was nice meeting you. And I look forward to working with you in future."

I smiled slightly as he left, before getting up and quickly creeping to the door. I could have sworn I heard Sark say "Fuck!" as he walked away. I had to smile.

I smiled at the memory and stared up and the ceiling of the cell. It was one of the first times I had truly unsettled Sark (which was something I enjoyed doing) and it was one of the first times the façade had cracked, showing the man underneath. A man I had since fallen in love with. But there was a time where I had thought of Sark as nothing more than a killer with a new master – the Covenant – before I realised just how much he hated them.

It had been very hard, those first few months as Julia Thorne. I was very used to having someone to talk to, at least a little, and when I didn't have one anymore it was hard. Surprisingly – then, although not so much anymore – Sark had given me comfort. Or at least he had when he let me see the man inside and stopped being such a cocky bastard.

The first time that happened, was just after I had slipped my first lot of information to my CIA contact. It was also the day after I had confronted Kendall and realised that, not only did all my friends and family think I was dead, but Vaughn was seeing someone else.

That day will always be a vivid memory, I fear. I can still feel the devastating sense of betrayal I had felt as I watched Vaughn kiss a pretty blonde – Lauren, now his wife – goodnight. By the time Sark confronted me, I was so hurt and angry, I was ready to explode. And I did.

I walked easily through the crowd, trying to blend in. Around me, people hurried past and I could hear the many church bells ringing out their morning message. I was grateful that the Covenant finally trusted me enough to give me my own apartment in Rome. It made things a lot easier.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed my arm and yanked me into a nearby alley. I lost my balance before I could react and the next thing I knew, I was being slammed up against the wall. I winced slightly when my head hit the stones behind me, the pain sharp and fierce.

I blinked and found myself staring into a pair of cold blue eyes, glittering with anger. "Who the hell are you working for?" Sark growled in a low voice.

I struggled against his grip, but his whole weight was behind it and I couldn't get free. "I don't know what you're talking about!" I snapped.

Sark gave me a cold glare. "Don't play dumb with me." He said. "It doesn't suit you."

"I'm not playing dumb." I said coldly, my mind whirling. How much did he know? And what did he want?

"Who are you working for?" Sark demanded again, giving me a shake for emphasis.

"The Covenant." I said. "Just like you."

"Miss Thorne, I must warn you I am not a patient man." He growled.

I gave a short laugh. I couldn't help it. I still wasn't used to everyone thinking I was someone else. But that didn't mean I was going to let Sark push me around. With a savage twist, I wrenched myself out of his grip and dealt him a hard spinning kick, slamming him against the wall.

"Piss off, you cocky bastard." I snapped. "I don't need you smug face in mine. I have enough problems already."

I let him go, thoroughly tired and annoyed with the situation I was in. Wasn't it enough that my family and friends thought I was dead, I was working for an evil organisation that kept telling me to kill people and my boyfriend was now involved with someone else? Did I have to deal with this British bastard as well?

"My God." Sark whispered. "Sydney?"

I gave him a cold stare and a sardonic smile. "Who else?"

Sark unconsciously straightened his suit as he continued to stare at me. "The Covenant believes they've brainwashed you." He said.

"Yeah, I know."

"And the man you just met with would be your CIA contact." He mused out loud.

"Yeah." I said again, somewhat sarcastically. "And if you tell anyone, I'll kill you."

Sark glanced sharply at me at my words. Then he grabbed my arm again. "Come on." He said. "We can't talk here."

"Let me go!" I snapped as he dragged me further down the alley.

"No." he said as he pushed open a narrow door.

I struggled for a bit and sighed. Sark was an evil bastard, but right now he was an evil bastard that knew my secret. I had no choice but to go along with him and he knew it. Sark led me through a maze of stairs, corridors, balconies and across rooftops, before unlocking the door to a beautiful apartment.

He ushered me inside, before shutting and locking the door. "Sit down." He said.

I looked at him with a raised eyebrow, before ignoring him and wandering about. I found myself liking the place, despite who owned it. The apartment was just one large room with a few partitions to separate the bedroom and the kitchen. It was elegantly decorated with light, subtle colours – and fitted Sark perfectly.

"The Covenant doesn't know about this place, do they?" I didn't really ask, since I already knew the answer.

"No."

Sark watched me carefully, a slightly sad expression on his face. "Was Mikhailov the first man you killed in cold blood?" he asked softly.

I turned away from Sark and stared out one of the large windows at the garden beyond. "Second." I said emotionlessly. "The Covenant made me kill a man to prove the brainwashing had worked."

For what its worth," he whispered, "I'm sorry you had to do that."

I'm not sure what it was – the genuine sympathy or understanding in his tone – but I suddenly I burst into tears, grieving both for the two men I had murdered and the innocence I had lost. Pathetic, aren't I? Strong, until someone offers a word of comfort and then I start wailing like a little girl.

I wiped my tears away angrily. I turned back to glare at Sark. "You must be loving this." I said bitterly. "Sydney Bristow killing for the Covenant. I've finally become as bad as the people I try and stop."

"No, you're not." Sark said softly. "They wouldn't be upset by it."

Sark handed me a box of tissues, a look of sadness and understanding in his eyes. "Killing only gets easier if you let it. Trust me, I know."

I glanced sharply at him and finally noticed he had lost some of his cold mask. "You needn't look at me so warily, Sydney." He said, shrugging out of his jacket and sitting on the couch. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Sark's tone was weary and it almost seemed like he was battling something. "Then what do you want?" I asked.

He looked at me consideringly. "Your help." he said bluntly.

"To do what?"

"Take down the Covenant."

I looked at him in surprise, even though I shouldn't have been. Sark didn't just play spy for anyone. And, I could sure as hell use his help if I ever wanted my life back. But there was one thing I needed to know first.

"Why?" I asked. "Why do you want to take down the Covenant?"

There was that considering look in his eyes again. "My reasons are personal." He said.

"Revenge?" I asked, curious.

"Something like that." He agreed.

"And I suppose in exchange for my help, you won't tell the Covenant I'm a double agent?" The bitterness was back in my tone. I hated the way everyone was trying to use me. The Covenant, the CIA...and now Sark.

"Don't you want to bring down the Covenant?" Sark smirked at me.

"Of course I do!" I snapped, and felt my anger rise. I had a short temper these days and this was the final straw. "I just don't like being used and manipulated! By the Covenant, the CIA or you!"

I walked over to Sark and stuck my face in his. "So whatever it is that you're planning, you can shove it up your ass! And if you really want my help, then you're going to have to play it my way."

I pulled away slightly and watched an unreadable expression flicker across Sark's features. Then he gave me an admiring glance and stood. "Very well." He said, sticking out a hand. "It's a deal."

I warily put my hand in his, conscious of the fact I might just have made a deal with the Devil. And Sark certainly fit the part: dangerous, mysterious, sexy...now where had that thought come from?

Mentally I shook my head as I returned Sark's handshake. His palm was warm and slightly calloused. Probably from holding all those guns, I thought. "Deal." I agreed.

As Sark let go of my hand, he gave me a smirk. "So much for never working with me Bristow."

I sat down on the couch and looked up at him. Usually, I hated doing that because it gives whoever's standing an advantage – seemingly, anyway. But I didn't mind so much with Sark. We had always been rather evenly matched, and we each also had the knack of unsettling each other easily when others couldn't at all. Somehow, I didn't think standing or sitting mattered all that much.

Sark sat down opposite me, in an armchair, looking perfectly cool and at ease. "You know," he said conversationally. "You look good as a blonde."

Self-consciously, I put a hand up to my dyed locks. "It's not like I had much choice in the matter." I said. "But thank you."

Sark simply smiled. I felt somewhat surprised at the lack of smirk. After a minute, he raised an eyebrow. "What, no return compliment?"

I cocked my head to the side. "I'm still thinking of one." I said.

Sark looked surprised for a second, before he laughed. It was the first free, unforced laugh I had ever heard from him and I felt myself smiling back. "Although, I suppose I could say you look goo as a blonde too."

Sark's eyes twinkled with humour as he grinned at me. It struck me then just how handsome my nemesis was. Normally Sark was good looking, but without his cold and emotionless mask, he was downright devastating.

And why the hell did I keep thinking about that? Damn it, he was my enemy! Even if it seemed he was the only certain thing in my messed up life – Sark didn't change for anyone. All the same, recognising how good he looked was not helping uncomplicated my life. It was probably doing to opposite.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, reality intruding once more. It amazed me to realise that Sark had helped me forget my problems – at least for a little while. As if sensing the direction of my thoughts, Sark spoke. "Want to talk about it?"

I looked at him and noticed the understanding expression on his face. He looked...well, softer than when he was on a mission; less business-like. I took a deep breath. Some sort of instinct made me trust him – just a little, but enough. And Sark would understand what I was going through. So I told him. I actually opened up to the man I considered my enemy, knowing he would understand better than anyone else.

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. "Where do I start?" I sighed and looked at Sark. "I just want you to know, that I'm really trusting you here. Because, if you wanted to, you could really destroy me."

"I don't want to destroy you Sydney." Sark said softly. "I never have."

I looked at the serious expression on his face and realised he really meant it. The part of me that wanted to trust Sark rejoiced...and even the part of me that didn't, had to admit maybe Sark wasn't as bad as I thought.

"Well, if you don't, my life will." I said.

Sark merely raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

"As you already know, the Covenant kidnapped me after my fight with Allison Doren and spent the next nine months trying to brainwash me into believing I was someone else."

"But you never broke." Sark said.

"No, I never broke." I said softly, the words bringing back dark memories filled with blood, pain and four echoing words: I am Julia Thorne.

I had never broken, that's true. But I had come so close too many times. It was out of desperation that I had finally begun to let them believe they were wining.

"After they believed I had been completely brainwashed, they asked me to prove my loyalty. So I did, and killed a man whose name I never knew." I continued. "Then I spent the next two months in training, learning skills I'd never had to use before."

"And then I turned up." Sark said.

"Yes, although you weren't much of a problem until today. I was actually quite happy to keep letting you believe I was Julia Thorne." I answered.

"Then why tell me now?"

I smiled softly. "Because, believe it or not, I think you'd understand."

Sark looked at me, somewhat startled and amazed. I think it was the first time in a long time that someone had trusted Sark enough to do something like this. And I can't really explain why I did. Maybe I was desperate for someone to understand what I was going through – but I didn't really think so.

I shook my head slightly, realising I had been lost in thought for a minute. "Anyway," I began again. "A few days ago, I finally contacted the CIA. Only to find that my friends and family think I'm dead and Vaughn has forgotten me rather quickly."

"Ah, your former handler." Sark said, recognising the name. "Are you sure he's forgotten you so easily? You're not as easy to forget as you think, Sydney."

"You're not the one who saw him kissing some blonde!" I said bitterly.

To my horror, I felt tears slipping down my face. "I had to see him, Sark!" I said. "I thought we were in love! I couldn't just let him think I was dead! And then I saw him kissing someone else..." I trailed off, sniffing.

"And you felt betrayed." Sark finished for me. "You're right. I do understand."

I sniffed again and wiped my eyes. "Thank you, Sark."

Sark flashed me another knock-out smile. "Please," he said. "If you're going to bare everything to me, at least call me Julian."

"Julian?"

"It's my first name." he said. "And now you know more about me than most of my previous employers."

That was the start of a weird and beautiful relationship between us. The moment we stopped being just enemies, and became something more. Although, it would take us a bit longer to realise it. I sighed, and shifted slightly on the mattress. Sark had been right all those years ago. We did make a good team.

My thoughts were interrupted by the clanging of the gate. It seemed I was about to get another visitor. I didn't even bother sitting up, not really in the mood to see anyone – because, I'd either have to face another round of questioning from Lindsey, or someone else would want to know why I had trusted Sark.

"Sydney?"

But I have to say, the voice surprised me. I sat up and swung my feet to the floor, looking at my visitor. "Dixon?" I asked.

"We need to talk." He told me, firmly.

Uh, oh.