The man on the other end of the phone was getting on Sark's nerves. His contact in Russia had been assigned to find the information he wanted over two weeks ago. And all of the sudden that night, he decides that there's no way he can betray his family to get Sark the information.

"You get it now or I will hurt you myself," Sark growled into his cell phone, unconsciously squeezing it so tight his knuckles had begun to turn white. He could hear the man pause while he thought over the threat that he had just served up. "Is there something you wish to tell me, Mikhail?"

He heard the man sigh and knew that they had made a breakthrough in their short lived relationship. "If you can get to St. Petersburg by tomorrow, I may be able to set up a meeting with Mr. Romanowsky. There's not guarantee. But I can tell you that this will only work if you get here soon. If you wait too long, this offer will be off the table. The boss doesn't like men who screw around with him."

"I'll be there," Sark said. He snapped the phone shut without another word. Persistent threatening was his most effective negotiating tool. It never let him down.

This was the break he had been waiting for since he started recalling that he hadn't been in CIA custody for two years. He was determined to figure out what his initial reason of working with the Covenant had been. He knew that after seeing that Sydney was there, she had become his reason for staying. In the back of his head, he knew that she wasn't his reason for coming.

He went into the bedroom and began shoving clothing into a suitcase, determined to follow this lead as soon as possible. There had to be a midnight flight to St. Petersburg out there somewhere. It was as he was throwing a pair of sunglasses into the bag that he first noticed it was raining.

The second thing he noticed was that there was an unidentified lump on his front porch.

Knotting his forehead in concentration, he let go of the blinds he had been holding down and made his way outside. Chances are it was just some homeless bum trying to get out of the rain a little. He was in a good mood so he wouldn't send the guy out into the rain, but he had to at least make it clear to the man that he wasn't getting any farther out of the rain than the front porch.

The words flew right out of his mind as he realized it wasn't some random person on his porch. "Syd?"

She didn't turn around to face him. Instead, she got up and started walking away, back into the rain.

He didn't hesitate. Running out into the downpour, he yelled, "Where are you going, Bristow?" After he had grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around to face him, he added, "What happened?"

She still didn't say anything.

"You're crying."

"How can you tell that?" she finally said. "It's raining."

"Because I know you, Syd. And you're crying. Tell me what happened."

"I shouldn't have come here."

"No, you probably shouldn't have. But you're here and we can't change that."

She threw her hands up. "I didn't know where to go. There was no one else. I shouldn't have come here."

He stopped her from stepping around him and leaving. "No, you don't. If you have nowhere else to go, you shouldn't be leaving. Not when you're this upset."

"Everyone I know would kill me if they knew that I was here."

"Well, we'll just have to not tell them. It's pouring, Sydney. At least come up onto the porch." When she didn't say no, he guided her up onto the porch. Pushing his luck, he asked, "Why don't you come inside so you can actually explain why you're so upset?".

"I can't." She gave him a look that reminded him of the way he was normally used to seeing her. "It would be improper for a single woman like me to enter into a bachelor's home without proper supervision."

"You afraid of what I'll do to you, Bristow?" he said with a smirk.

"I think you're the one that might have to be afraid."

He smiled at her. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing. Humor can't distract and neither can your shameless flaunting of your sexuality." He gestured to the door he had left open when he rushed after her into the rain.

After a moment of hesitation, she started to walk towards the door. Sark could feel her pause at the door for a millisecond. Letting her pause and debate about whether to go in, he patted her on the arm and went into the house. He returned with a handful of clothes. "Change into these."

She looked at him with a grin. "Most spies I know would have taken a less blatant approach to get me to take off my clothes."

"I promise I won't look," he said, turning his back on her.

Sydney smiled at him and grabbed the clothes out of the hand he had extended back over his shoulder. She could tell it threw him off that she was actually following his orders.

"Did anyone follow you?" Sark asked to keep the conversation going and try to eliminate the little bit of awkwardness that was creeping in.

"I don't think so. The CIA has no reason to be tailing me. At least, they didn't before today."

Sark nodded, letting the small hint as to what she was upset about go for the moment, and they returned to silence

After a few minutes of quick changing with only a few checks to make sure that he couldn't sure he wasn't peeking, she took a deep breath and looked back at where Sark was sitting. He was absentmindedly rubbing his side.

"Is your side still bothering?"

"Well, you did a pretty good job on me. How are you dealing with your complete and total lack of bruises?"

"I can't help it if I'm better at my job than you." She walked over to stand beside where he was sitting. "Thank you for the clothes."

"My mother always said that any situation could be made better by having on dry clothes and a smile."

"Really?"

"No," he said with a laugh. "I barely knew my mother. Sit down, Sydney. I'm not going to force you to go inside my house with me if you don't want to. We can just sit here until the rain stops and then you can go home. You don't even have to talk to me."

"It's too cold out here. And my mother always said that any situation can be made better by being inside where it's warm."

"Irina said that?"

"No. Let's go inside," she said.

The decisiveness of her words and the joking tone told him that she wasn't just trying to be brave. "You don't have to."

"I want to."

Without a word, they went inside out of the rain. Sark knew that he should probably be pushing her to tell him why she ended up on his front porch in the middle of the night, but he really didn't want to break the non-confrontational mood they were both in. It wasn't often that he had a conversation with Sydney that didn't involve much yelling and at least some sort of physical abuse, mostly on her part. He was actually beginning to look forward to the bruises.

"I thought it would be a little sleeker," she said looking around at Sark's home. "I pictured you as the leather furniture, black paint, sexy bachelor pad kind of guy. Not worn-in couches and… are those books?" She walked over to the wall he had shelves built into a few months earlier. "You read?"

"Contrary to what you may think, I did go to school and get a proper education like most kids. Just so happened I was the kid who snuck out on secret missions whenever I got bored."

She laughed and fingered a few of the books' spines on the shelf in front of her as he went into the other room. He returned in seconds with a towel in his hands. "You made me forget for a second," she said sadly.

"Forget what?" He handed her the towel and took a seat on one of the previously mentioned worn-in couches.

"Forget that I screwed up my whole life in under two hours." She expected him to say something more. When he didn't, she turned to look at him for the first time. He was sitting patiently on the couch looking at her. She was surprised to realize that he was wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants. Definitely not the kind of clothes she was used to seeing him in. Trying her best to both keep from staring and laughing out loud, she started toweling off her hair. "Did I catch you at a bad time?"

"Stop trying to avoid telling me why you ended up on my doorstep."

"My father and Dixon admitted to hiding the fact that you escaped from CIA custody. When I asked them why, they said they thought it wasn't necessary for me to know."

He nodded. "I wouldn't expect any less from them."

"Then, my father tried to forbid me from even thinking of you ever again." Sydney walked over and took a seat next to Sark on the couch.

"Well, that didn't work so well. I mean here you are, thinking and seeing me at the same time." He smirked at her. "Something tells me that you're the kind of person who when she's told she can't have something wants it even more."

"Pretty much, yeah."

Sark put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in a little closer to him. He expected her to immediately pull away, but when she didn't, he allowed himself to relax just for a moment. "What else happened to upset you? Because the CIA screwing you over isn't that new of a concept. They've done it a million times."

"Vaughn proposed to me."

"What?" Sark yelled., standing up and walking a few steps away from the couch where they had been sitting. He turned back to face her. "Why the hell are you here with me on the night you got engaged?"

"I didn't say yes."

The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. "Why not?" Okay, he really hadn't meant to encourage the continuation of this conversation. Which was why when she hesitated in responding, he clarified, "Never mind. I don't think I really want to know."

"It was because of you."

"Me?" He sat down next to her, completely shocked. "What do I have to do with you and the love of your life?"

"I'm a little confused right now. And Vaughn's not the love of my life."

"He's not?"

"I don't know. Like I said, I'm confused. I'm still trying to process the memories from my missing two years. He asked me to marry him, and I told him that I couldn't say yes until I figured things out. I thought it was a realistic reason."

"That doesn't explain why you're here with me right now, Syd."

"I'm here because he kicked me out of his apartment." She could feel the tears starting again. "God damnit. I told myself that I was done crying."

"You shouldn't hold tears in."

"Is that something your mother told you?"

"No, I learned that one all on my own."

"You know he told me never to come back," she said abruptly.

"That bastard."

Sydney laughed as she saw him reach for where his gun was usually holstered. "You know it wouldn't surprise me to find that you carry a gun even when you're wearing sweats."

Recognizing what he had been unconsciously doing, he laughed. "You would be wrong. My Glock just doesn't go well with these pants."

They sat in silence after that last comment, neither one really knowing what to say. It wasn't uncomfortable, though, which Sydney was glad for, but it definitely wasn't chock full of comfort.

"So, why did he kick you out? It wasn't just because you turned down his proposal, was it? Because if it was, that man is more stupid than I ever thought."

"No. He was just angry with a few of the things I had to say."

"Like what?" Sark said, leaning back against the couch and slipping his arm around Sydney again.

She knew the easiness of this move should have unnerved her. At the very least, she should have felt obligated to hit him a few times. Instead, she just felt grateful that at least she had one person who cared about her enough to just give her comfort by listening. "Oh, it was nothing big. I just said that I was remembering a few things about my missing years. You were the trigger to the memories. We had been a little more than partners while I was working for the Covenant. And oh yeah! I loved you." She could feel Sark stiffen at the last part. "Please don't freak out."

"I'm not going to freak out," he assured her, forcing himself to relax again. "I just wasn't expecting you to say that. At least not quite yet. I know that you're having a harder time remembering what went on between us. I figured that it would take a home cooked meal and a dozen roses to get you to admit that you even liked me."

"Why do you think I'm having so much more trouble than you at this whole remembering thing?"

"I think it's because this whole thing is more of a shock to what you would label normal than it is for me. I mean, finding out that I had fallen in love with you, Sydney, didn't surprise me in the least. If you hadn't have kept shooting at me every time we met, it probably would have happened sooner."

She smiled, not knowing what to do with this new, nice Sark. It was nice and all, but it was almost bordering on creepy. A creepy she was beginning to enjoy, but a creepy none the less.

"Stay with me for awhile," he said out of the blue. He felt her tense up in his arms. "Now who's freaking out? Listen. Before you say no, think about it. You have two whole days before you have to go back to work. You're not going to want to see any of your friends or family before you calm down a little and comprehend what's gone on. A few days away from all that might be good for you. Plus, I have books. You could read."

She didn't say a word or even crack a smile. She just stood up and walked into the next room. It seemed like the events of the day were finally hitting home. She was shutting down. With a sigh, he got up and followed where she had gone into his bedroom. He was generally surprised and even a little pleased to see her pulling the covers back on his bed and sliding in almost as if she had been doing that exact thing for quite a while. She seemed to be at home in his home.

"I wasn't going to say no, Julian" she said, turning over to face him even though she kept her eyes shut. He was thrown off by her casual use of his first name. It was still odd to him that she even knew it. "I was going to thank you for giving me an easy way out of the mess I've created."

Sark nodded and turned off the lights. "Get some rest, Sydney. Maybe you'll want to talk some more in the morning. But even if you don't, you're still welcome to stay."

Just about when he had almost completely shut the door to his bedroom, he heard her call out his name again. "Yes?"

"Who said I wanted you to sleep on the couch, Mr. Chivalry?"

He opened the door again and saw that she hadn't even opened her eyes. Sighing, he shrugged off his t-shirt and laid down next to her. No reason to argue with the lady. Not when she was being so agreeable.

It didn't surprise him as much as it should have when she pushed herself back into his arms.

"Thank you," she said softly.

"Any time," he said before shutting his eyes and willing himself to remember this rare moment. He had a feeling that after the night was over, she would be running away from him back to her normal life.


Sark remembered the previous night's events before he had even opened his eyes the next morning. He just lay in bed thinking about the fact that Sydney was there next to him. Reaching his hand out, he made contact with… air.

His eyes flew open, and he took in the fact that even if Sydney showing up on his doorstep hadn't been a dream, she wasn't waiting on his doorstep any longer.

"As if I didn't know that was going to happen," he cursed himself. He looked down at where the bag he had been packing before Sydney showed up was discarded on the floor. "You know, I should be pissed that she screwed up the one chance I had to find out what was behind the whole mystery of our lives and those damn two years, but I'm not." He smiled to himself. "It was worth it."

Picking up his shirt off the floor, he slid it on and walked out into the front room. What greeted him was definitely the best surprise he'd received in a long time.

"Waffles?" Sydney said with a smile, holding up a pan.