Disclaimer: I don't own Alias.......I'm sure you all knew that.

Surrender

Chapter One

Hiding behind someone else's mask every minute of every day was enough to drive her batty. Always having to watch what she said and how she acted, whilst pretending not to give a shit about how many people she killed – or how many she slept with. Everyday she worked so hard to turn her usually warm brown eyes into ice, until it became a habit.

But no matter how well she perfected her transition from Sydney Bristow to Julia Thorne, it didn't make her life any easier. What she wanted to know was how Allison Doren was able to live someone else's life for such a long period of time.

Sydney both admired and despised Doren for how she had fooled Will, herself and everyone who had known her mostly likely deceased best friend into believing that she was Francie. Sure, Sydney was no stranger to the art of becoming someone else – her long list of aliases proved that. But her deception only lasted a few hours, tops, before she headed off to steal some information or an artifact. Reverting back to her "normal" life with Will and Francie also involved lying and watching everything she said, but at least she always had a chance to be herself. And if all else failed, she had Vaughn's shoulder to cry on and her father to lean on.

But here, she had no one. There was not one familiar face that she could seek comfort in, no one that made her feel safe enough to let her guard down – most of them were dead, or thought that she was dead.

So Sydney felt almost relieved when she heard the voice of a certain cocky blond assassin address her in the noisy Italian bar that she had escaped to for the night.

"Sydney?" The familiar British accent was tinged with the slightest hint of genuine shock.

Thinking quickly, Sydney decided not to acknowledge the man standing by her table. She was pleasantly surprised by how easy it was not to instantly look up when she heard someone call her by her real name. Not that anyone ever used her real name anyway – she was always referred to as Julia now, and it had become an instinct to only ever respond to that name.

"Agent Bristow?" She heard Sark attempt for the second time to get her attention.

My name is Julia. Sydney stared into the depths of the bottle of tequila she had purchased – her attachment to this particular drink was one of the traits she had decided to retain from her old life – and pretended not to realise that Sark was speaking to her. As crazy as it seemed, she desperately hoped that Sark wouldn't give up on trying to talk to her and walk away without a second thought. She hated the son-of-a-bitch and his lack of concern for the welfare of any human being other than himself, but her loneliness had reached such a critical level that she wanted him to stay.

But that didn't stop Sydney from being cautious. As comforting as it would be to be able to talk to someone from her past – to finally tell someone about the suffering the Covenant had put her through – she still needed to bare in mind that that 'someone' was Sark. The same Sark that tortured one of her best friends and then killed the other. He didn't exactly seem like a consoling sort of person – in fact, he was the last person that Sydney would choose to unload her burdens upon.

Although considering that those who were at the top of her 'list' of people-whom-she-felt-comfortable-with-handling-her-emotional-baggage were inaccessible, it seemed that the last person ( a.k.a Sark ) was the only person, and was therefore the only option left for her.

Great. What kind of lousy-ass option was that?!

Oh – and it didn't help that she was suspicious of his motives. Sure, Sark seemed to be genuinely surprised to see her there, but what if this had all been planned? It was possible that Sark had been employed by the Covenant to test her – to see whether she would break down and spill her little secret to the first person that was available, or still remain the ruthless and sultry assassin that the Covenant had conditioned her to be.

Sydney decided that she would try the latter.

She couldn't afford for Sark to report back to the Covenant that she hadn't indeed been brainwashed and that she had been deceiving them the entire time. And if he did – well, to put it quite bluntly, she would be in deep shit.

So Sydney once again left her old self behind, letting her alias rise to the surface.

"Honestly, Sydney – I know we aren't exactly on the best of terms, but there is no need for you to act like a child," Sark sighed, exasperated, as he slid into the seat opposite her. "You could at least spare me one of those infamous glares you usually shoot in my direction every time I've tried to talk to you in the past, or come up with some sort of way to insult me – either would be better than just simply ignoring me."

She finally acknowledged his presence, meeting his stoic gaze with her own. "This 'Sydney' sounds like a complete bitch," she said lazily.

Sark blinked and looked at her as if to say, 'Oh, so now you decide to talk?' "No, she isn't, actually," he corrected her suddenly, much to Sydney's surprise. "I suspect that she's actually quite a nice person. Except I haven't yet had the pleasure of having that niceness directed at me."

Hmm. Sark had yet to figure out that she wasn't Sydney anymore. He thought that she was playing some kind of game with him.

Time to fix that.

"It sounds like you two have some issues to sort out," Sydney pointed out, with no indication that she actually cared about said 'issues'. "So why don't you run along and make up with your girlfriend, instead of bothering me while I'm trying to get drunk."

Sark stared at her silently, icy blue eyes expressionless.

Sydney gave him an expectant look, her eyebrows raised in question. A few more moments passed and Sark didn't look like he was going anywhere. "Sweetheart – that was a hint for you to piss off," she informed him with a fake smile. "A rather obvious one, too. I thought you would've realised that, but clearly you aren't as intelligent as I thought you were."

Sometimes she really enjoyed Julia's bitchy personality.

"Well," Sark finally spoke, a note of awe in his voice. "You certainly haven't changed much since the last time I saw you. You are acting a little........odd, though. But I suppose that if I had risen from the dead I would be slightly unhinged too."

Wow. So Sark had gotten the memo about her so-called 'death' as well? Huh. Wait – did he just call her insane?

"So, Sydney," he continued, still oblivious to the fact that she had changed. Quite a lot. In fact, she was a completely different person, so to speak. "Where have you been for the last seven months that you were supposedly dead?"

Sydney let out a long suffering sigh; partly to stay true to her alias, and partly because she was growing tired of Sark's apparent clueless-ness. If this was a test, then couldn't they just get it over and done with already?

"Look, if you insist on staying here, you really need to stop calling me that."

"Stop calling you what?" He had the audacity to look puzzled.

"Sydney," she snapped, as if it were obvious.

Sark smirked, looking slightly amused. "Why, may I ask, don't you want me to refer to you by your name?"

"Because it's not my name, genius," Sydney huffed, growing more frustrated.

Oh come on. The Covenant has successfully brainwashed me. Congratulations. Now GO AWAY!

The smirk intensified, and Sydney resisted the urge to smack him. Ok, if there was one thing that she didn't miss from her old life, it was definitely The Smirk.

"Is that so?" Clearly Sark thought that she was joking.

Sydney fixed him with a withering stare and quickly downed a shot of tequila before she could let out a string of obscenities.

"Tell me, then – what is your real name?" He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows against the table in mock-eagerness.

She mirrored his movements, looking straight into Sark's eyes as she purred, "Julia. Julia Thorne."

The smile was instantly wiped off Sark's face. "Julia......Thorne?" he repeated, truly aghast.

"Yes," Sydney confirmed. "Perhaps you should use it sometime."

Now it was her turn to smirk. She had no idea why Sark looked so mortified – after all, she had only revealed to him her alias, which not all that exciting – but that didn't mean she wasn't enjoying this moment.

Sark.........speechless..........where was the bloody camera when you needed one?!

"I apologise..........Julia," Sark said slowly, his tone neutral. "I must have mistaken you for someone else."

Finally. Good grief.

Sydney plastered on a sweet smile. "I'm so glad you realised that," she replied with a hint of sarcasm.

"You should come back to my apartment with me," Sark suggested suddenly.

Say what?!

Sydney resisted the urge to choke on what must have been her seventh shot of tequila that night, and remained surprisingly calm. "And why would I do that?"

"Because I'd like to make up for taking up your time," he explained, "By taking up more of your time." He gave her a bewildered sort of smile – which was kinda cute, she had to admit – which didn't quite reach his eyes. He seemed a little distracted, as if he were trying to process some shocking news.

No way. No fucking way!

"Will there be any alcohol?" Sydney asked casually, as if it were the most crucial factor influencing her decision.

As soon as the words had left her mouth, she immediately wanted to take them back. Asking that question meant that she was considering saying yes to Sark's offer – and she was not, under any circumstances, spending more time with Sark than was absolutely necessary!

But........what if this was necessary? What if this was part of the test?

"Certainly. Except I don't have any of that -" Sark cast a pointed look in the direction of her tequila, "- revolting concoction you've been consuming for the past fifteen minutes."

No matter how convenient it was to deny it, Sydney knew that Julia would not turn down this offer. And unfortunately, so did the Covenant. It was inevitable that Julia would get invitations such as these every night she went out – and if it involved alcohol, an attractive man and the promise of getting into bed with said man.........well, she was so there.

But under no circumstances was she some sort of cheap hussy. She set very high standards that not many lived up to – mostly because they were lacking in the looks department. And it just so happened that Sark fit her 'criteria' perfectly.

Well, fuck.

If she failed to take up this so-called 'opportunity' and go home with Sark, the Covenant would be more than suspicious.

"Julia?" Sark prompted her.

She hastily attempted to convince herself that this was for her safety.

And although all of her instincts were protesting against her decision, Sydney looked back at him and replied, "Sure – but only because you're cute." She paused. "And because you have alcohol."

Sark seemed slightly taken aback as she stood up to leave and waited for him to do so as well. "Right. Let's go then."

As Sydney followed him out of the bar, she nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, hoping that she had made the right decision.

A/N: Hope it wasn't too horrible. Tell me if it's worth continuing. : )