Author's Note: Sorry this has taken so long guys, but it's that dreaded time of year again...exam time. So I might not get the next chap up very quickly either. Sorry!

Cheeky.

Chapter Fourteen:

I stared at my mother, a million questions running through my head. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I would have thought that was obvious." Irina said dryly, yet sounding amused.

I opened my mouth, and then shut it again. "Thanks." I said, unsure of what else to say. I mean what could I say? Last time I had see my mother I had been trying to shoot her.

My mother's expression turned unreadable. "I'm always here for you, Sydney." She said.

I nodded and shifted a little, until I sat right next to Sark and my shoulder and thigh brushed his. Even now I couldn't stop the pure shot of lust that curled in my stomach. He leaned close to me and whispered in my ear. "Are you alright?"

"I'm better now." I whispered back, truthfully.

Sark smirked at me. "Of course you are. I'm here."

I hit him on the shoulder, but couldn't quite stop myself smiling. He grinned back, but before he could say anything else, the van suddenly screeched to a halt. Sark carefully opened the door and climbed out. "Come on, Syd." He said.

"Where are we going?" I asked, wondering what was going on. "A safe house?"

Sark smiled. "Even better: my house."

I carefully climbed out of the van and looked at Sark curiously. "Your house, huh?" I said.

Sark grinned and looked back towards the van. Beyond him I saw his plane – the same one we had flown to Switzerland in. "We'll see you in Ireland, Julian." My mother said.

I turned back in time to see her shut the door to the van and the van roared off again. "So you live in Ireland?" I asked Sark, following towards the plane.

"I do." Julian said. "It's very beautiful. You'll love it."

We climbed aboard and within moments the plane was in the air. As soon as we had levelled out, Sark got out of his seat and disappeared, returning for a minute with a pile of clothes. "I thought you might like to get changed." He said.

"Thanks." I said, grateful to get the chance to get out of my prison clothes. "I'll be right back."

I went to walk past him after taking the clothes, but then stopped. I looked up into Sark's amazing blue eyes and leaned forward, giving him a rough, enthusiastic and passionate kiss. "What was that for?" Sark asked breathlessly, when we pulled apart.

"Just a thank you for breaking me out of custody." I said.

"Well, if that's the thank you I get, remind me to break you out of prison more often." He laughed.

I grinned at him, before slipping past him to change my clothes. Once again, I could tell Sark had picked my outfit. A simple black skirt and white shirt, that managed to look demure and still show off my figure, and a pair of heeled boots and a leather jacket. I smiled as I put them on, but left the jacket off. I slung it over the back of my chair when I returned, noticing Sark had disappeared again.

A moment later Sark reappeared again, now dressed in black slacks and a black shirt. He slung his jacket over the back of the seats next to mine, before sitting down beside me. "It will take us about ten hours to get to Ireland." He said.

I snuggled closer to him and he responded by putting his arm around me and pulling me closer. I stayed silent for a moment, revelling in the feel of him next to me and his strong arm curling possessively around me. I rested my head against his chest. "How long was I in custody?" I asked.

"About two days." Sark answered.

"Two days?" I asked, surprised. It hadn't felt that long.

"Yes." I could hear the amusement in Sark's tone.

I rolled my eyes. "It just didn't feel that long, okay?"

I felt Sark grinning, but he said nothing. I closed my eyes briefly, suddenly tired and aware of how tense I had been. Relaxing against Sark, I felt him begin to softly stroke my hair. I smiled against his chest. My father had always done that when I was a child, and the soothing rhythm did what it had always done: it sent me off to sleep.

"Wake up, Syd." Sark's voice said in my ear. "You're missing the view."

I blinked open my sleepy eyes, and sat up. Sark smiled at me and pointed to the window. "Welcome to Ireland." He said.

I followed his hand and gazed out the window, marvelling at how green everything looked. It was an awesome view with the green of the fields and black of the cliffs. A river snaked its silvery way through the green, winding towards a small city.

"We'll be landing soon." His expression was slightly amused and faintly proud as he watched me.

"It's so beautiful." I told him.

"It is." He agreed. "I've travelled all over the world and never found anywhere as beautiful and magical as Ireland."

Sooner than I would have liked, the plane had landed and we had disembarked. At Sark's advice, I had slipped on a light sweater beneath my leather jacket, and I was suddenly grateful. I gazed around as I breathed in the cool air, watching the gilded sunlight pour from the slightly cloudy sky. Sark had been right. Standing their, even in the middle of an airport, I could feel the magic of this place.

I smiled in delight and turned to Sark. He had put his jacket on and another coat on top to protect him from the slight chill. Slipping on a pair of sunglasses, he put an arm around my shoulders. "So, do you want to go shopping first, or shall we just go home?" he asked.

I looked at him, consideringly. "Shopping?" I asked.

He laughed. "I thought so." He said. "Come on."

In a routine that was familiar to me, no matter what country I was in, Sark and I made our way through customs. I smiled when I saw my new passport. "Married, huh?" I whispered to Sark.

He grinned at me, before turning his attention to the clerk. As we walked out of the airport, I began to hear more and more of the musical Irish accent amongst the French, German and English that surrounded me. I snuggled closer to Sark, and laughed aloud. For the first time in a long, long time, I felt free. Absolutely fucking free!

As I had almost come to expect with Sark, a smooth, black and expensive car drew up in front of us. Sark opened the door for me and gestured for me to get in before following me. "Good morning, Andrew." He said.

The man in the driver's seat, Andrew, was a dark haired man with cheerful green eyes and an easy smile. He was in his late 30's and despite all his apparent humour, I could see they way he carried himself with confidence and a slight arrogance – as if he had gone up against the challenges of his life and won. And I knew anyone Sark had working for him could handle themselves in a fight.

"Mornin' Mr. Sark." Andrew said with his Irish lilt.

"Morning?" I repeated, confused.

"Aye." Andrew said from the front seat as he pulled out into the traffic. "It's almost nine in the morning, local time."

"Oh." I smiled. "Thank you."

"Not a problem." Andrew replied. "So, back home Mr. Sark?"

"No." Sark said. "It seems we're going shopping first, Andrew."

"Ah." He chuckled. "Right you are then."

Fifteen minutes later, the car was parked and we were ready to go. Sark and I got out of the car, followed by Andrew. I watched curiously as Sark dug into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. My eyebrows rose. It looked like a lot of money. "Sark..." I began.

He put a finger to my lips to quiet me. "It's only money, Syd." He said. "So be a good girl and go and spend it."

I arched an eyebrow at his words. "Good girl?" I asked.

He grinned. "I know. I'll pay for that one later." He reached back into his coat and pulled out a gun this time. Carefully hiding his movements, he reached around me and stuck it into the waistband of my skirt underneath my jacket. "Just in case." He whispered in my ear.

Then Sark gave me a soft, but lingering kiss. "I'm afraid this is where I leave you for now." he said, his hands still on my hips underneath my jacket. "I have a few errands to run. I'll be back in an hour or two." He raised one of his hands to stroke my cheek. "But Andrew will be with you the whole time."

I nodded, but couldn't help but feeling a little sad Sark wouldn't be coming with me. It surprised me just how fast I was getting used to him being near me...and I was also surprised to find that it didn't worry me in the slightest. "I'll be fine." I told him.

Sark grinned. "I know you will. It takes more than the CIA to stop Sydney Bristow."

I grinned back. "Particularly when I have Julian Sark on my side."

Sark lean forward slightly and gave me another soft kiss. "I'll see you soon, love."

I watched Sark walk away, his coat slightly swirling in the breeze. I could feel the silly, soft smile on my face, but didn't particularly care. For once I didn't care who saw it. I was in love and wasn't going to hide it.

I turned towards Andrew, only to find him staring at me strangely. I couldn't help but tense under his gaze that seemed to be somehow measuring me. "What?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Sorry for staring, miss, but I was just wonderin' what kind o' woman had captured our Mr. Sark's heart, is all."

"And?"

"Well, I haven't seen you in action, but I'm guessing you must be pretty special."

I smiled at him. "In that case you can call me Sydney." I said. "Now, how about we do some shopping?"

He laughed. "You sound just like my wife." He said.

An hour later, Andrew and I were layered down with bags and walking down the crowded street. I stared at the windows as we past, wondering what else I needed. I think I had probably bought just about everything I could ever conceivably need for the next twenty years...but still: who could have too many shoes?

My gaze turned speculative as we passed a hairdresser. I stopped for a second, gazing at my reflection in the window. My hair was long and tangled about my shoulders. I have to say, I did like its new length, but still...I wanted a change. Something a bit neater and nicer. "Andrew..." I began.

"You want a haircut?" he asked.

I turned to him and grinned. "Why not?"

Andrew simply shook his head. "If you want one, go ahead." He said. "We have another hour before Mr. Sark will be back."

Still grinning, I pushed open the door to the shop, and heard a small bell tinkle. A curvy woman popped her head up as we walked in, a bright smile on her face. "Can I help you?" she asked in her Irish lilt.

"Yes." I said. "I feel like a change."

She laughed. "Well you've come to the right place." She said. "You're American, then?"

"Yes." I said.

"Well, what do you think of our fine country so far?" she asked.

"It's beautiful." I said, meaning it.

"That it is." She agreed. "Oh, where are my manners? I'm Lily."

I couldn't help but smile at her infectious grin. "Sydney."

"Well then, Sydney. What can I do for you?"

Sitting down in the offered chair, I gazed at my reflection in the mirror. "I feel like a new look." I said. "But I would prefer to keep the length if I could."

Lily gave me a considering look, her head slightly tilted to one side as she thought. Then she grinned slowly. "I think I have just the thing." She said.

"Great." I said.

"Well, what do you think?" I asked Andrew, giving him a small spin.

I already loved my new hairstyle. Gone was the practical straight cut I had had for so long. Instead my hair was gently layered around my face, and a long fringe fell over my right eye slightly, brushing across my forehead. I made me look softer, and slightly more feminine, which I thought wasn't such a bad thing.

"It's beautiful, lass." Andrew said. "Just like you."

I blushed slightly at Andrew's words, for some reason feeling slightly embarrassed by his words. "Thank you."

I paid Lily and thanked her for her help. She simply laughed and told me it was her pleasure. Slipping on a pair of newly bought sunglasses, I stepped out of the salon and into the slightly chill air outside. "Is it time to meet Julian?" I asked.

Andrew nodded. Together we strolled back to where the car was parked and I enjoyed listening to all the different accents and languages around me as I watched the other tourists shopping. Sark was waiting at the car when we got there, and I felt pleased when he looked surprised but pleased with my new appearance.

"I like your hair, Syd." He said. "It suits you."

"Thank you." I said, blushing again.

We climbed back into the car and Sark slid an arm around my waist, pulled me against him. "Did you have fun shopping?" he asked.

"I always do." I said. "But yes, thank you. I did."

I leaned against Sark, watching the scenery as it passed the window. "So where are we anyway?" I asked as we left the city behind.

"That was Galway City." Sark told me. "It's right on Galway Bay."

I nodded my head. "And where are we going?"

"My house." Sark replied cryptically.

I turned so that I could see his face. "And where exactly is your house?" I asked.

Sark looked down at me and I could the teasing glint in his eyes. "Where it's always been, I guess."

Sark laughed at my expression. "It's high on the cliffs, just past a little village called Spiddal." He told me.

"Nice." I said. "I've always wanted to live on a cliff."

"Well, now's your chance." Sark said, kissing the top of my head in a tender gesture.

The rest of the drive passed in companionable silence, with me marvelling once again at just how complex Julian actually was. He showed the world such a cold, business-like persona, but when he was with me he was so different. I sighed softly, leaning against him once more and gazing out my window as we climbed the cliffs.

The grey-blue ocean pounded the cliffs relentlessly, the rhythmic crashing soothing me as did Sark presence. For some reason, I always felt so calm and at peace when I was with Sark...or maybe I did know the reason. I never had to pretend with Sark. I could say anything that came into my head and he wouldn't find it strange. And that was something I treasured dearly.

I sat up with a start, surprised out of my comfortable doze as we pulled up towards a large stone house on the top of the cliff. The place was huge, and if we had been in England I would have called it a manor. "This is your house?" I asked.

"Yes." Sark replied.

"It's huge." I told him. "House just doesn't seem to be the right word for it!"

Sark laughed. "Wait til you see what's inside."

I turned and looked at him, excited by the prospect. I felt almost as if I was a little girl again. I grinned. "Come on, then!"

I half dragged Sark out the car as soon as it was stopped, and almost ran towards the house, Sark laughter following me all the way. The door opened as we neared, to reveal a pretty woman about Andrew's age with long dark red hair and wide green eyes. She looked at the scene before her with a look of astonishment, and I can't say that I blamed her.

I skidded to a halt and tried to appear more civilised and lady-like. "Hello, Shannon." Sark greeted. "I'd like you to meet Sydney. She'll be staying with us for a while."

Shannon looked at me with undisguised curiosity. "Welcome to Ireland, Sydney." She said warmly. "Andrew, bring the bags inside."

She disappeared back inside, and I followed her, a little more slowly this time. I shot Sark a glance as I did, and noticed the amused look on his face. He smiled at me. "Don't think you have to behave if you don't want to." He said softly.

I grinned back at him. "Maybe later." I said.

The parlour was tasteful, simple and elegant...just like I had expected it to be. I knew that Sark preferred things to be that way when it came to belongings. "Would you like a tour?" Sark asked me.

"Yes, please." I replied, eager to see more of Sark's home.

He smiled in return and took my hand. The house was beautiful, with its comfortable and elegant furniture and windows that overlooked the ocean. Towards the back of the house was a well stocked gym that had me eager to start training again. There was also a large pair of metal doors in the corner that I guessed lead to the armoury.

Sark turned to me. "So, what so you think?" he asked.

Strangely, his expression was faintly venerable – as if my opinion meant a lot to him. "I love it." I said. "Just like I love you."

Sark looked strangely humble at my words. "I love you too, Syd."

Leaning forward, Sark gave me a deep and lingering kiss that left my knees weak and my toes tingling. When we pulled apart, he reached up and gently brushed my hair away from my face. He sighed softly. "I'd better show you to your room. Shannon will probably have lunch ready by now."

"Food sounds good, forget the room. Is Shannon your housekeeper?" I asked curiously.

"Yes." Sark said, taking my hand and leading me towards the kitchen. "She's Andrew's wife, and between the two of them they look after the house when I'm not here."

The kitchen was a bright room that let in the light from the garden beyond. In the garden, I caught a glimpse of some rose bushes and a neat herb garden. I took a seat opposite Sark at the large wooden table. I glanced up as Shannon placed a bowl of stew in front of Sark and me, and a large loaf of crusty bread between us. "That's a beautiful garden." I told her.

"Thank you." She said softly. "I do what I can."

"Don't listen to her." Andrew said as he came into the kitchen. "She spends every spare moment in it."

"Oh, hush Andrew." Shannon said. "Leave them be."

I watched as Shannon efficiently bustled around the kitchen, preparing food even as she stopped her husband pinching it. "Out with you, Andrew." She said after a moment. "We'd best leave them in peace to eat."

Before I could react and tell them they didn't have to leave, Shannon had bustled her husband out of the kitchen and followed him. "She's something, isn't she?" Sark said.

"Yes, she is." I said.

Sark and I talked about the house and Ireland for a while, finishing a simply delicious meal. I had to remember to compliment Shannon on it the next time I saw her. After I had eaten absolutely everything I could without exploding, I pushed my plate away and leaned back in my chair. "That was good." I said.

Sark sighed contentedly. "I agree."

I looked at Sark. "I've been meaning to ask you, but when is my mother getting here?"

"Later this evening, would be my guess." Sark said. "And your father's coming too."

"Dad is coming?" I asked, surprised. "With mom?"

Sark flashed me an amused half-smile. "Yes, they are." He said.

"Well, this should make things interesting." I muttered.

Sark chuckled at my words. "Definitely."

Sark sighed again, before getting up. "I'm sorry Syd, but I have some business to take care of." Leaning over Sark gave me a brief kiss. "Shall I come and find you when I've finished?"

"Yes." I said, frowning slightly. It seems reality was about to intrude once more. "Reality sucks." I mumbled, watching Sark leave.

I got up from the table, just as Shannon came bustling back in. "Mr. Sark's off to do business, then?" she asked.

"It seems like it." I told her.

She smiled, although it was somewhat shyly. "Good. I should show you where your room is." She said. "And I also wanted a moment to ask you a million questions." She shot me a glance. "That is, if you don't mind."

I smiled, touched and amused that both Shannon and Andrew were so protective of Sark. "I don't mind." I told her.

Shannon smiled. "Good."

Together we walked upstairs, and I soon found myself standing in a room overlooking the stormy sea. There was a lovely old dresser in the corner, a window seat under the window and a four poster bed in the middle of the room. The room itself was decorated in soft blues and it seemed a little feminine for Sark's taste. And, as if guessing my thoughts, Shannon said. "Sark's mother decorated the room."

"It's lovely." I said.

"All you clothes are in the laundry at the moment." Shannon said. "I thought I'd give them a wash for you. You'll have them before morning."

"Thank you, Shannon." I smiled at her.

Suddenly, Shannon sat down on the bed and bit her lip. "Forgive me if this sounds abrupt, but do you love him?" she asked.

I was a little surprised by the bluntness of the question...but I knew that it had been coming. I was quickly learning that Shannon and Andrew cared a lot for Sark. "Yes." I said truthfully. "Like I've never loved anyone before."

"Good." She said. "Because he's had so much pain in his life already, I'd hate for him to get hurt again."

The sudden steel in Shannon's voice surprised me – although it shouldn't have. I laughed in surprise. "Bloody hell." I said. "What does Sark do, recruit out of the SAS?"

Shannon laughed, delighted and surprised by my comment. "No, although I wouldn't put it past him." She told me. "Both Andrew and I are ex-military."

I shook my head. "I'm starting to feel outclassed here."

Shannon raised an eyebrow at that. "Somehow I don't think so. I've seen some of those bruises you gave Mr. Sark." She grinned. "Not even Andrew can land one on him that often."

"Oh?"

Shannon winked at me. "If you can beat Mr. Sark in a fight, Sydney, I will thank my lucky stars you're on our side."

I laughed. "I think that's one of the nicest compliments anyone has ever given me." I said.

That was how Sark found us an hour later. The two of us were sprawled on the bed, sharing a box of chocolates that Shannon had produced from somewhere, and chatting animatedly. "I see you're settling in rather well, Syd." He said, grinning at the sight.

I grinned back at him, before eating another chocolate. "Absolutely." I told him. "Besides, who else am I going to gossip with?"

Shannon laughed. "Well, I'd better get back to work." She said as she got up. "I'll see you later, Syd."

"See you, Shan." I replied.

Sark shook his head as Shannon shut the bedroom door behind her. "How do you do that, Syd?" he asked. "The two of you were strangers an hour ago."

I shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just friendly I guess."

Suddenly, Sark looked at me with a smirk. "Feel like some exercise?" he asked.

"What did you have in mind?" I asked, suspiciously.

"You. Me. The training room."

"You want me to kick your ass?" I asked.

"No, I want you to see if you can. I'm not that easy to beat, Syd." Sark said.

"We'll just see about that." I said as I got off the bed. "You're on, Sark."