Author's note: Okay. I've still been waiting out to update until is back up and running. But that's taking forever. I don't like to post more than one chapter at a time on a board, but it's taking too long so I guess I'll just have to post two chapters at once over there when it's up and running. That way you guys won't kill me for the super, super, super long cliff hanger.


Sydney sat staring at the barrel of her own gun. "He warned me about you," she said simply. "That was why we fought. He said that you weren't on my side and that you'd try to kill me one of these days. I trusted you and so we fought."

"Sydney, Sydney, Sydney," Stephanie tsk-tsked. "By now you should know that you ought to let people earn your trust before you give it to them. I mean, how well do you really know me? Not as well as Julian Lazarey obviously, but still. We had those few weeks in Niagara years ago, and the past week has been nice and all. But you don't really know me."

"Who are you working for?"

"Myself," she said with a knowing smile. "After SD-2 was dismantled, I decided that I couldn't rely on an organization to make my living or give me a name. So I called up my old childhood friend, Gabriella, and told her I was going to make her rich. All she had to do was pretend to be the one creating this elaborate drug cartel."

"So, you're behind all of this."

"Yeah. I was hoping that one of Gabriella's, or should I say my men would finish you off so that I didn't have to. But my big mouth got away from me. I was too excited, you see. Taking down The Sydney Bristow. It's a big feat in the spy world. You're famous."

"You're not. You didn't even register on the CIA's radar until you brought in the intel on your own corporation."

"Yeah, I had to push it on you a little. Things were progressing too slowly." Stephanie faked a yawn. "I'm getting bored. You see, your delay tactics aren't going to work."

Sydney interrupted. "You know what I always wonder? Why do the bad guys always spell out their motives and future plans when it comes to confrontation time? I mean, the movies have pointed this mistake out a million times."

"It's because in the real world the hero doesn't usually escape. They die."

"Good answer. I'll be sure to let everyone at the Agency know when I'm done kicking your ass."

Stephanie rolled her eyes. "See? More with the delay tactics. That's where everyone else who had you in their grasp messed up. They let you reason with them until you found an opening to get yourself free. Not going to happen today."

Before she registered what had happened, there was a loud bang and her shoulder flared with pain. Her hand immediately shot up to the wound to put pressure on it. "You shot me, you bitch!" she screamed through the pain.

"I'm going to do a lot worse to you before I put you out of your misery. I need some information on Rambaldi."

"It always goes back to Rambaldi, doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does. Now 'fess up."

Sydney looked at her incredulously. "Do you think I'm actually going to tell you anything? You just shot me."

"Yeah. I probably should have thought that out before I did it. But oh well! Can't take it back now." Stephanie watched Sydney start to scan the room. "Don't search for help. We're alone. I told Gabriella to leave the warehouse after ten minutes and lock the door behind her. There's no escape."

"What now?" Sydney asked. The pain was starting to make her a little woozy, and talking was becoming hard to do. Two word sentences were probably the only thing she could manage.

"This," Stephanie said, kicking her hard in the head.

Sydney dropped to the floor, stunned. Before she could get her wits back, Stephanie had grabbed a nearby coil of rope and tied her to one of the handrails. She took a seat on one of the boxes nearby and waited for Sydney to recover.

"So. About that information I need?"

"Still not going to give it to you. Nothing you can do 'bout that."

"Not even if I tell you that I'm currently in a position to hurt every single person who means anything to you."

"I doubt that."

Stephanie reached into the pocket of her pants and pulled out a paper. "Let's see what we have here. William Tippin. Currently living in Wisconsin under the alias of a construction worker names Jonah. Dating a painter in his building and is seriously debating whether she's the one. Marshall Flinkman. Has a young baby named Mitchell and a wife named Carrie. That's a happy family. Michael Vaughn. The man who seemed to be the one. But to quote what you said yourself, 'we both changed'. I wonder if you still care enough for him to keep him alive. Eric Weiss. The only friend you had there for a while. Currently wondering why you've been secretive with him. I think I'll let him know about your little affair with Sark before I kill him. I thrive on seeing disappointment in my target's eyes. Do you need me to go on? I do have at least ten other targets."

"No, you can stop," Sydney replied.

"Good. Now about that information. There's a specific artifact that you acquired a few years ago. I need it. Give me the location of where the CIA stores them. That's all I want."

Sydney laughed through teeth still gritted in pain "You misunderstood. Didn't mean you could stop because I was going to give you what you wanted. Meant you could stop because I don't care."

"Really? You don't care about any of those people?"

"Care enough to know that every one of them can take care of themselves." She laughed again. "Plus, don't like threats."

"Okay. Maybe I should just kill you. A few of your little friends have access to the same knowledge. They'll crack under pressure, I'm sure. Especially when I tell them I've killed you. I think that will let them know I'm serious."

Sydney could feel dread filling up her stomach. The one thing she could count on was that Stephanie wouldn't kill her, that she was indispensable. Now she realized that the woman currently holding a gun on her really had no limits. She was just crazy enough to kill her, no matter what information she knew.

"Sark was right," she thought. "Stephanie is going to kill me."

Stephanie stood up. "Let's just get this over, then." She pointed the gun at her head. "I'm sorry it had to end this way, Sydney. It was nice to have someone trust me again."

Sydney closed her eyes and waited for the darkness to come. There was a loud bang. She waited a moment and then realized that she was still alive. Opening her eyes, she saw Stephanie clutching her chest. There was blood rolling over her hands.

"Damnit," Stephanie said before dropping to the floor in pain.

Sydney tried to look around and figure out what had happened, but the pain in her shoulder was bordering on crippling. She felt a pair of hands gently release the rope that was holding her to the handrail. Turning as quickly as she could without passing out, her heart stopped when she caught sight of her rescuer. "What are you doing here?"

Sark smiled at her. "Did you really think I was going to let you run off and get yourself killed, Sydney? At least not if I wasn't the one doing the killing." He reached down and scooped her up into his arms. "But we can talk about this later. For now, we need to get out of her before someone realizes what happened."

Sydney laid her head down on his shoulder. "Julian?" she said weakly.

"Yes?"

"I should have trusted you."

"Yeah, you should have. But we won't worry about that now."

He made his way out of the warehouse with her in his arms, checking that no one was watching the exit of the building. Using back alleys and streets with little traffic, he tried to get as far away from the scene of the crime as he could.

"Julian?" she said again after they had traveled a few blocks.

"I thought I told you not to talk."

"It's important." She strengthened her grip around his neck. "I don't think I like this whole quitting our relationship cold turkey thing."

She could feel him laugh lightly. The vibrations for some reason soothed her. "What, do you want to try doing it gradually? Would that be more convenient?"

"It might help."

"Well see." He stopped at the side of a parked sports car. Trying the handle, he was happy to find it was unlocked. He slid Sydney into the passenger's seat and made his way around to the other side.

"Is this your car?" she asked through her pain-induced haze.

As he ripped the panel below the steering wheel off, he looked up at her. "Not exactly."

"You're not hotwiring this car."

"Yes, I am. We need this car more than the owner does right now."

"You are such a bad person," she whispered before finally surrendering to the pain and passing out.

"But you love it," he said to himself as the engine revved to life. He pushed the stick into gear and peeled out down the street.


Sydney flew up with a start. She rapidly scanned her surroundings and realized she had no idea where she was. It was a small room with little decoration, but it looked cozy. She was laying in a bed, and there was a piercing pain in her right shoulder. Finally her eyes rested on the man lying next to her.

"It wasn't a dream," she whispered mostly to herself. She reached down and lightly touched Sark's cheek just to make sure he was really there.

He opened his eyes slowly. "Hi."

"Hi."

They started at each other in silence for what seemed like an eternity.

"How's your shoulder?"

"It hurts. Why are you here?"

"Because you needed me. Do you want me to take you home?"

"Not right now. Does Dixon know about what happened?"

"I had one of my contacts in Mexico give him an anonymous tip."

"I'll call him later. How'd you know where I was?"

"You told me most of where you were in our phone conversation. Do you still want to break up with me?"

"Not sure about that one. Where exactly are we?"

"Somewhere safe."

"More specific."

"I have a villa in Santa Barbara that I keep secret. I figured it would be safe to bring you here."

"Good to know. You flew me to Santa Barbara while I was unconscious?"

"At the time it seemed like the right thing to do."

"I see. How long do you think we'll stay here?"

"That depends on you. Do you still want to break up with me?"

She laughed wholeheartedly. "You already asked me that, you fool."

"The answer's really important to me, Syd."

She smiled at him. "I don't know right now. Things are just so up in the air."

"Do you think you're okay to go on a little shopping spree?"

"When did you learn my secret remedy for gunshot wounds?"

He winked at her. "It's my job to know the little things. Plus, you always go shopping after a mission. I figured there had to be something there that I could exploit."

She slid out of bed, making sure not to jostle her shoulder too much. That was when she finally realized what she was wearing. "Did you change me into sweatpants while I was unconscious? That's a little kinky even for you."

He laughed. "I had to get rid of your clothes. The top was blood soaked from your wound. Plus I figured you'd enjoy shopping twice as much in sweatpants."

"You know me so well."

Sark walked over to her side of the bed smoothly and scooped her up into his arms. "Would you mind too much if I just carried you all day to keep you from reopening that wound?"

"You're crazy."

He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. "Yeah, I know. Now let's shop."

The evening of shopping was eventful. There were quite a few natives blatantly staring at the well-dressed man weighted down by all the bags he carried and the women in sweats dictating their next stop. Sydney found it refreshing to forget how much havoc her life was currently in and just pretend to be a normal girl being pampered by her boyfriend. Except he wasn't really her boyfriend. Was he?

That was a question she was still contemplating when they returned to Sark's villa shortly after sunset. She was surprised when he led her to a different room than the one she woke up in.

"You can spend the night here. This is the most comfortable bed in the country. It should help alleviate some of the shoulder pain."

"Thanks." She began to unpack her new purchases from the bags Sark had set on the floor. Hearing Sark walk across the room and open the door to leave made her pause. She straightened up and turned to him to ask, "Where are you going?"

"I've had a long day what with getting you here and making sure you didn't focus on the pain you're in. I was going to turn in for the night."

"So then why are you leaving?"

"Well, I don't think staying here will help you make a decision about what you want in terms of myself."

She walked over and pushed the door that he had opened a small crack shut. "I want you to stay with me. That much I know."

He smiled at her. "I was hoping you'd say that." His heart skipped a little beat when she sent him a suggestive look.

"I can unpack those clothes later."

"They'll wrinkle."

"I'll pay for them to get dry cleaned or I'll iron them or something."

He pulled her into his arms, enveloping her whole body with his. It felt dangerously like home. He hadn't had a home in years. "Great argument."

"Let's go to bed."


Sark turned over and watched his love sleep. She always looked so angelic. She was so fiery during the day that it wasn't a surprise that she had to compensate when she was oblivious to the world.

He pushed a strand of hair off of her cheek, continuing to stare at her. He had reached a turning point earlier that evening. She had been trying on some ridiculously skimpy pair of shoes. Her eyes met his as she was bent down to tighten the strap, and something clicked in his heart.

He had never been an extremely impulsive person. He always thought things out at least half a dozen times before taking actions. But something about this whole situation made him know there was no reason to waste any more time.

Sydney shifted in bed and turned towards him slight. Deciding this was as good a time as any, he reached down to the floor beside his half of the bed and into his discarded jacket.

"This is the right decision," he said softly, taking care not to wake her up. "I told you I would get tired of waiting eventually, Syd. I just didn't know it would be this soon."