Disclaimer: I don't own ALIAS! Gheesh... you'd think that most people would
pick up on this by now...
Catherine had been peacefully watching one of the in-flight movies, leaving Sark to his own devices. (No, he didn't take over the plane... Catherine would kill him if he did). However, the movie ended, and she had nothing to do for another fifteen minutes.
Turning to Sark, she got a devious look in her eye.
"Please don't tell me that you're going to renew your dumb blonde joke quest." Sark commented, glancing over at her from his laptop screen.
"Nope" Catherine grinned.
"Then... what are you going to do?" Sark asked, concerned for his safety and brain cells.
"I just wanted to tell you that, 'in the frigid vastness of interstellar space a pin-point of matter-antimatter fluctuated from the void, creating an intense flash of electromagnetic radiation.'[i]" Catherine shrugged.
"WHAT?!?!" Sark asked, loud enough for the entire plane to hear. Several people turned and stared at him.
"Excuse my boyfriend, please. I just told him some rather startling news." Catherine explained in a perfect British accent. (She had to match Sark's voice, after all.)
Slowly, people turned back around in their seats.
"I am NOT your boyfriend!" Sark seethed.
"Well, you sure as heck aren't my lover, my brother, my mentor, or even really my friend." Catherine coldly replied, her voice back to its normal Russian accent.
"Well... I... maybe if..." Sark stammered. He was in deep, and there was no escape in sight.
"Don't pin this on me. Anyway..." Catherine began, but was interrupted by the flight attendant with drinks. Both declined.
"Anyway what?" Sark asked, returning to his cold, non-caring voice.
"Anyway, I think that we should figure out what we're going to do about this whole 'Sydney-being-abducted-by-aliens' thing you've got going on with the CIA." Catherine replied.
"What's to talk about?" Sark asked.
"Well, first off, what you plan on doing about the "key" to the... never mind. I don't want to talk about work." Catherine replied.
"What do you want to talk about?" Sark asked, dreading the answer.
Catherine grinned. "Did you hear about the blonde who just bought an A.M. radio?" She asked, serious.
"No." Sark sighed, "I don't."
"It took him two weeks to figure out that you could play it at night." Catherine told him.
Sark gave her a sideways glance. Then, he began to laugh. ----------------------- [i] Robin Cook, Invasion, pg. 1
Catherine had been peacefully watching one of the in-flight movies, leaving Sark to his own devices. (No, he didn't take over the plane... Catherine would kill him if he did). However, the movie ended, and she had nothing to do for another fifteen minutes.
Turning to Sark, she got a devious look in her eye.
"Please don't tell me that you're going to renew your dumb blonde joke quest." Sark commented, glancing over at her from his laptop screen.
"Nope" Catherine grinned.
"Then... what are you going to do?" Sark asked, concerned for his safety and brain cells.
"I just wanted to tell you that, 'in the frigid vastness of interstellar space a pin-point of matter-antimatter fluctuated from the void, creating an intense flash of electromagnetic radiation.'[i]" Catherine shrugged.
"WHAT?!?!" Sark asked, loud enough for the entire plane to hear. Several people turned and stared at him.
"Excuse my boyfriend, please. I just told him some rather startling news." Catherine explained in a perfect British accent. (She had to match Sark's voice, after all.)
Slowly, people turned back around in their seats.
"I am NOT your boyfriend!" Sark seethed.
"Well, you sure as heck aren't my lover, my brother, my mentor, or even really my friend." Catherine coldly replied, her voice back to its normal Russian accent.
"Well... I... maybe if..." Sark stammered. He was in deep, and there was no escape in sight.
"Don't pin this on me. Anyway..." Catherine began, but was interrupted by the flight attendant with drinks. Both declined.
"Anyway what?" Sark asked, returning to his cold, non-caring voice.
"Anyway, I think that we should figure out what we're going to do about this whole 'Sydney-being-abducted-by-aliens' thing you've got going on with the CIA." Catherine replied.
"What's to talk about?" Sark asked.
"Well, first off, what you plan on doing about the "key" to the... never mind. I don't want to talk about work." Catherine replied.
"What do you want to talk about?" Sark asked, dreading the answer.
Catherine grinned. "Did you hear about the blonde who just bought an A.M. radio?" She asked, serious.
"No." Sark sighed, "I don't."
"It took him two weeks to figure out that you could play it at night." Catherine told him.
Sark gave her a sideways glance. Then, he began to laugh. ----------------------- [i] Robin Cook, Invasion, pg. 1