Squee! Thanx for all your reviews and kind words. Nothing degrading yet, but it's still early. Lol. This next update is just one filled with dialogue. I haven't decided how they should get stranded. I have two ideas and if you let me know what you want, I'll write about it. Thanx to Karone by the way who gave me another idea.
As I was saying, they could get stranded by themselves OR they could get stranded with other people from LOST. Both involve a plane crash; it's just the type of plane crash… a jet or a commercial plane. If you want them to get stranded with other people from Lost, who should it be? Your feedback is very important and will help me develop this story better. Anyway, watch the sparks fly!! Enjoy!
"Unfreaking believable," she thought. Of all the people in the world, (she stared straight at him giving him the infamous Bristow death-stare) it had to be HIM.
He was seated at the back of the limo, while she sat across from him.
He tried to avoid her stare in the beginning but after awhile he just said, "Like what you see?" in the same arrogant manner he'd always spoken to her.
This only made her stare harder at him as she said, "You wish."
Her comment only made him chuckle and make that charming smirk of his appear once more. As he laughed at her comment, he folded his arms.
To Sydney, he was probably thinking about a good comeback or an evil plan. Either way, she'd kick his ass. She was in no mood to resuming their verbal judo. Well if any judo was involved, it would be one where she knocked him around a couple times.
He sighed and put his hand through his slowly reappearing curls in a cool, calm manner.
"We really should stop meeting like this," he said trying to break the silence and her stare.
He'd seen the same stare on her father and mother and quite frankly it made him uneasy. Only a few people could do that and those were the only two people who could. However, Sydney's stare was coming close to the intensity of her mother's. In his opinion, the award for the most terrifying stare went to Jack Bristow's which always gave him goose bumps.
"Pardonne-moi," she replied.
He stared at her. She could feel his eyes covering her body.
He did not realize that her stare could get fiercer. If she could kill him with her eyes, he'd be dead a long time ago.
"In clubs." He paused to see her reaction.
He continued after noticing her stare lightened up a bit, just a bit.
"We always meet in clubs. Yet the first time we'd meet, I remember you were wearing a rather provocative outfit and singing a lovely song. Not that I'm saying that the outfit you're wearing now is not…"
She interrupted him before he could even finish his sentence. She went closer to him, so he could notice that she wasn't playing around. Then, she grabbed him by the collar and spoke directly into his ear.
"Ecoute-moi, you bastard. I don't have time for chitchat. Now listen carefully. If you piss me off again, I'll have you back in that cell and this time (she paused) you won't escape."
She released him and went back to her original seat.
He was not shocked by her behavior but was rather indifferent to it. Instead, he straightened out his suit and said to her, "If you don't play nice, mademoiselle, I won't either."
In an acidic tone, she said: "Look, we obviously have a dilemma here. Now if you're a good little assassin and don't give my cover away, I'll do the same."
She realized that if he blew her cover, she'd be screwed because all she had for backup was Weiss. He was a good fighter but she'd seen Sark in action. Weiss was no match for Sark, an assassin who killed with finesse and pleasure. Not like she couldn't take down Sark all by herself, she could do it even in three-inch stilettos. Plus, she still needed to get the disk.
He raised his eyebrow, "So we're coming to some sort of arrangement. What do I get out of this? Let me guess. A complimentary stay in a cell?"
His sarcasm was charming but at the same time it made her want to smack the shit out of him.
"No. The agreement is if you behave, I won't kill you."
He chuckled, "My you're quite the negotiator."
He paused. "Who could resist such an offer? I either get killed or go to a closet-sized cell. What a difficult decision."
He stared at her, "Then again, I could tell them you're an agent of the CIA. They'd kill you and I'd get the disk."
He gave her a devilish smile, "Yes. I think my idea is far more beneficial to me. Don't you agree?"
She smiled, "Or I could tell them who you really are. They'd kill you for being a traitor and then I'd get the disk. Yes. I think my idea is even better. Plus, I don't have to do the dirty work."
He looked at her, "What makes you think I won't kill you now… or even later?"
She stared straight at him, "I don't."
"What makes you think I won't?" she said with a smile.
He was intrigued. She was exactly like her mother, which scared him. He learned from experience that it was not intelligent to argue or go against a Derevko.
He replied, "Very well then. I scratch your back and you stab mine."
They had come to an agreement. Though one filled with threats and death wishes, it was an agreement nonetheless. Yet, the problem was who would get the disk in the end.
Sydney just stared at him. His words unnerved her because he spoke the truth. She would betray him in the end. It was her job. She wouldn't let one of the ten most wanted terrorist escape. No, she'd haul his ass back into the CIA. Interesting, he said it as if it was nothing.