This time, Sydney didn't wake up with a start. Instead she found herself slowly drifting out of sleep and into consciousness in a haze of happiness. She was completely and utterly happy. It was a new concept for her.
Checking to make sure Sark was still next to her, she pulled her body out into a satisfying stretch. That was when she noticed the new edition on her finger. To be more specific, the rather large addition on the fourth finger of her left hand. She stared at it with incredulous eyes.
It was to this facial expression that Sark woke up. "Found my little surprise, didn't you?"
"Um. Yeah," she said, not knowing what else to say.
"So what do you think?"
She took her time in answering. Partially because she wasn't sure what he was asking her. But mostly she still wasn't positive that she was awake. Twenty-four hours earlier, she had been dealing with the fact that she was going to die. Things were changing and moving so fast. She had to be dreaming.
"Sydney?" Sark said hesitantly when he realized she wasn't answering his question. She continued to stare at her hand without blinking. "Are you even awake?"
"That's what I was debating," she said.
"You might want to try breathing."
She finally looked away from the ring and at the man sitting next to her. "Are you doing what I think you're doing, Julian?"
"If what you think I'm doing is proposing a lifelong commitment, then yes, you're right."
"That's ridiculous. You're not the kind of man who can settle down for the long haul with a woman."
"You're right. I can't just settle down with any woman. But I can settle down with you." He took her left hand in his. "You're not just any girl, Sydney. You're the first women I've ever met who doesn't take my shit."
"My mother never did," she pointed out. The words just flowed out of her mouth without conscious thought.
"I wasn't interested in your mother romantically."
"I always wondered about that."
"Let's not get off the subject." He smirked at her. "That's another thing. You're the only women I know who can manage to get me off topic in such a way that I totally forget what I was trying to say or do. You keep me on my toes."
She looked at him skeptically. "You can't be serious about this."
"I've never been more serious. I love you, Syd. You're the only woman I've ever let myself love. I think by now you should trust me when I say that. I risked my life to save yours yesterday, and I want to be able to do that every day of the rest of your life. I don't want to have to worry about whether you're safe. I want to have the right to make sure you're safe. I've lived my life carelessly for twenty-six years. I've been searching for a purpose. And I've found it. I was put on this earth to keep the most important woman in the world from getting hurt in any way."
She stared at him, feeling the tears well up in her eyes. She had heard his sweet talk before, but it had never sounded like this. He was so sincere. Sighing, she knew there was no other choice. "How could I deny a plea like that?"
His eyes widened at her words. "Are you saying yes?"
"I'm saying yes conditionally. I want some time to think about it before I have to tell the people I love." She looked down at the ring. "But I'll be keeping this baby on, thank you very much. Where did you get it so quickly?"
"It was my mother's. I've been carrying it around for a week. I was going to give it to you the morning after we made love."
"But we fought."
"And you broke up with me."
"How come that decision never seems to stick? How many times does this make it, me breaking up with you?"
"Two. Believe me, I've been keeping count."
Sydney's attention was drawn away from their conversation by the rising sun. "Do we have to leave Mexico any time soon?"
He pulled her in close to him and smiled. "I think a little time off can be arranged. You should call your boss. He's probably worried sick."
Sighing, Sydney reached over to grab Sark's cell phone off the bedside table. He gently stopped her hand as she was pulling the phone back to her side of the bed. "Do you think it's wise to call in sick from the phone of a man on the Most Wanted List?"
"Yes. They're going to have to deal with it." She pressed in the very familiar series of numbers. When a recorded voice played in her ear, she sighed and mouthed, "Voicemail." Rolling her eyes, she started talking to the machine. "Dixon, it's Sydney. I'm all right. Agent Harling went rogue. She was killed. I can't make it out of the country just yet. I'm safe. I'll get more word to you when I can."
When she hung up the phone, she noticed that Sark was staring at her. "What?"
"You just lied to him, Miss Perfect Agent."
"So I left out a few details."
"Including the one that I partook in the killing of Stephanie Harling. And that fact that you can't make it out of the country right now because you don't want to make it out of the country."
"But I didn't lie about being safe," she said, snuggling back into his arms. "I am safe."
"I'm glad to know that you finally feel safe with me."
"I'm sorry I didn't trust you."
He kissed the top of her head lightly. "It doesn't matter. I wouldn't mind it if you didn't trust me as long as you let me spend the rest of our lives trying to change your mind."
She pulled her hand out from his and looked down at it. "This is a beautiful ring. You said it was your mother's?"
"From her first marriage."
"You never told me your mother was married before she wed Lazarey."
"It only lasted two months. She loved her first husband with all her heart, but he died."
As a thought dawned on her, she sat up in bed and looked at the man next to her intently. "I thought you didn't really know your mother that well."
"I don't. All I have is a letter she wrote to be given to me on my sixteenth birthday. The ring was inside. She told me about her first husband and how much she wished she was around to see me place the ring she cherished so much on the finger of the woman I cherished the most."
As Sydney settled back down into the bed beside him, Sark's cell phone began to ring. "You should get that," Sydney said. "It might be Dixon. He'll want to speak with you about your intentions."
"That's all right. For the first time in my life, they're honorable." Sark looked down at the display and frowned at the unidentifiable number. His phone had the newest technology available. It should have registered practically any number in existence. Whoever this was, he had a feeling it was extremely important. "Hello?"
"Julian Lazarey."
"Yes?"
"This is Marek Romanowsky. I have some information that you've been desiring."
"Interesting." When Sydney sent him a concerned look, he shook his head and gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. He slide out of bed and walked into the hallway, shutting the door behind him.
"Mikhail tells me that you've been dying to find out what you were doing working for the Covenant those two years."
"So the bastard finally decided to come through for me."
"A strange way of putting it, but yes, he did. He also mentioned that you didn't think you're reasoning for allying yourself with the Covenant had anything to do with their then recent acquisition of the CIA's best asset."
"Sydney Bristow."
"Yes, Miss Bristow was probably the best thing that happened to the Covenant."
"It can also be argued that she was the worst thing to happen to them."
"That wasn't their fault. It was yours."
Sark looked through the open door and was happy to see the Sydney had rolled away from the sightline of the door and appeared to be trying to fall back asleep. "What does that mean, Mr. Romanowsky?"
"Your whole reason for the drastic life change was to keep the Covenant from succeeding."
"That is the most worthless thing you've said so far. I already knew that I wasn't there to help the Covenant get more powerful. That's just common sense. I don't need a big touch Russian to tell me that."
"You were there to destroy them by taking out their number one weapon."
"I'm not following you."
"You were going to kill the number one assassin they had at the time."
Sark felt a slow realization dawn on him. He didn't want to believe it, though. "Are you saying…"
"You were there to kill Sydney Bristow."
