It had been a long day, and right now all she wanted to do was kick back and relax. Her mind drifted off to the million places she would rather be, but she couldn't pretend not to be stuck in a room with a man whom she had sworn to kill more times than she could count. She slumped back on the sofa, letting her eyes stray from the laptop screen, which was on the small coffee table in front of her, but her eyes were forced back to it when she heard Sark's sharp voice.
"That's him." He said waving a finger slightly at the screen.
She willed herself to return to a rigid position and studied the man entering the hotel entrance, courtesy of Sark, who had helped her tap into the CCTV feed undetected. "That's Jawlenski?" She asked, flicking her gaze towards her watch. It was almost nine o'clock "It's a little late to be coming back, especially when he's meant to be guarding the file."
"I doubt he has to worry too much about that. Jawlenski is renowned for hiring the most capable of guards whilst on operations. The Covenant employs him not so much for him to deliver the goods safely, but as someone to blame if anything should go wrong."
"You mean torture?" She allowed herself to look across at him a short distance away from her on the sofa, and was surprisingly stunned at the flat smile he gave. "So what are his plans for the rest of the night?"
"I imagine he'll be headed to the private lounge for a bottle of his favourite wine before retiring to his penthouse suite for the night."
She took that in, tracking Jawlenski as he moved from the reception to pass through a large doorway, which she assumed was the private lounge. Sark was right. That had been happening way too often for her liking lately. "How do you know all this?" He shot her a quizzical look. "Jawlenski." She elaborated. "How is it that you know so much about him?"
"We've collaborated our sources on more than one occasion on operations for both The Covenant and personal matters. He's extravagant in his methods, but an excellent choice if you want the job done."
"So you two have a history?" she prodded.
"If you wish to refer to it as that, then yes." He saw her look turn into a serious stare as she let herself delve deep into his crystal eyes, which gave nothing away. She could only imagine what untold secrets he kept behind such a façade of innocence, which she swore never to be fooled by. Uncomfortable by her now evident stare, he shifted slightly. "What is it?"
She shook her trail of thought and brought herself to answer him. "I just want you to know that if you ever double-crossed me or made any attempt to, I would not hesitate to shoot you."
He looked almost saddened by her reply, if he was capable of such a feeling. "You feel the need to keep reminding me of that obvious fact, when I have made it perfectly clear that my intentions require me to keep my loyalty to you."
"Loyalty is such a loose term isn't it? These days it's so easy to mistake it for betrayal." She returned her absent gaze to the laptop screen, but she couldn't shake the awareness of his eyes as they ticked over her; observing her, as he tried to read her thoughts.
"If you didn't trust my worth to some extent you wouldn't be sitting in this room right now."
"Putting you and trust in the same sentence…" She trailed off, not wanting to display her frustration any further.
"We're not as dissimilar as you'd like to think, Sydney." He almost regretted letting those words escape from his lips when he saw her frozen eyes turn to pierce through his own like icicles.
"I am nothing like you." She spat.
"Be honest Sydney, do you still live in the illusion that you're working alongside the good guys?" He quizzed.
"You are a heartless, cold-blooded killer…and I will never be like you."
"Then I wonder what it takes for you to give yourself the label of a murderer. Or is it that you just can't admit it?" She paused, offering him a confused look. "Come on Sydney. Besides the many opponents you've killed during your time at SD-6, you ended a mans life as proof for The Covenant-" He was cut off by her ripping voice.
"I had no choice!" Tears of anger threatened around her eyelids, yet she suppressed the urge.
"Not to mention your late fiancé." He shot back, only half expecting the solid crack of her elbow at his jaw, which he got in return. The force of the blow knocked him off the sofa to fall roughly on his back.
She moved from the sofa to stand above him, and he thought it wise to remain where he was. "Yes, people have been killed because of my actions. It's part of the job I do, but you…you make it your job to kill people. What's more is that you like it! You're just a pathetic slave to whoever pays you." She allowed him up, and he met her gaze level. "I could beat the crap out of you endlessly right now, but that's the difference between us - I don't enjoy it. And that is the reason why I will never be like you." She turned to walk away yet his voice halted her in her step.
"So it's perfectly acceptable to kill if you're working on the good side?" No reply. "There are no hero's among men, Sydney. The people I have killed were all far from innocent."
"That doesn't give you a right to kill somebody." She spun on him.
"No." He agreed coolly. "Being the enemy is all the reason, but I believe you are already familiar with that concept with you being part of the CIA."
"Working with the CIA does not mean that I get to choose who gets to live and who dies."
"That's exactly what you do." He cut her off, and took a moment to absorb her apparent look of disbelief. "Right now you are choosing to let me live, when it is clear that the CIA would benefit greatly from my death."
For a short pause she couldn't find the words to give so much as a 'shut up'. She resigned herself from the debate she obviously wasn't going to win. Drawing in a deep breath. She took that final step closer to remove the space between them saying, "You're going help me get this file and clear my name with the CIA." She paused suddenly disgusted by him, all that he was. "In return, I'll give you just enough time to run before I pull the trigger to send a bullet through your brain."
He watched her with a strong sense of admiration as she slumped back down into the large sofa, yet made no attempt to lock her eyes on the screen. Instead, she unwillingly forced her eyes up to him. "Tell me everything you know about Jawlenski." He let a little smirk flicker across his lips as he came forward to comply with her request.
She twisted uncomfortably as she woke from a surprisingly restful slumber. Looking around from where she lay on the sofa, she realised that being in the room hadn't been just an unpleasant dream, and that Sark was probably still asleep in the bedroom. She had shut the door, not wanting to be reminded of his face when she first woke.
She was about to return to the softness of her pillow, when the abrupt rapping at the door stopped her. A spray of panic overcame her as she sprung from underneath the blanket, swiping a set of small keys from the coffee table as she made for the bedroom door.
Sark woke immediately as she flung the door open and jolted the keys around in his handcuffs, with which he had been linked to the bedpost all night. "Someone's at the door." Another tap at the door confirmed what she had just told him. He rolled his wrist, trying to suppress the tremendous ache, which had developed at some point during the night, but was pulled to his feet as he felt her hand grip his to lead him through the doorway.
He refreshed his eyes as he stood there for a moment in front of the door; while she stripped the blanket and pillow from the sofa and retrieved the gun she had hidden underneath one of the sofa cushions. She cocked the gun and composed herself as she put her back to the wall on the other side of the door, ready to shoot the visitor if necessary.
Sark turned the handle confidently and revealed the maid who stood before him. "Service today?" She asked, obviously unable to conjure up any other English words, as she appeared to be Spanish, yet he couldn't quite pinpoint her accent to a specific part of Spain.
He made as if to consider the offer, looking back into the room and then turned to her with a flirtatious smile. "I'll save you the chore today; I find cleaning myself to be much more therapeutic, as I'm sure you'll agree." She grunted slightly as she moved on to the next door a short distance down the hall.
Sydney slumped her shoulders in a gesture of relief, which dispersed as soon as she came to meet Sark's gaze as he clicked the door shut. In the frenzy to bring him to the door she hadn't taken any consideration of the fact that he had just woken up, and the fresh creases in the expensive shirt and trousers he wore were testament to that. Yet when she studied him closer, she saw a radiant glow hidden inside him, and he didn't seem to begrudge her rude bombardment upon him.
He rubbed the back of his neck as he went to take a bottle of water from the mini fridge below the counter of the mini bar. "I trust you slept well, apart from that unexpected interruption." He gave a slight pause to look over at her, observing the tight fitting black polo neck jumper, which she had put on last night when the bitter cold had crept in from London's streets, and the low cut black jeans she had teamed it with. All black, he thought, such a dark colour to dress such a pretty face in. Then again, it matched the daunting eyes she had set upon him.
"Like a log." She said in that familiar monotone he knew all too well, and crossed over to him to get a bottle herself. As he tipped the bottle up to his mouth she noticed the fresh speckles of bruising around his left wrist where he had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt; obviously the result of cuffing him to the bedpost.
Dropping the bottle down from his mouth, he saw that she was focusing on something and followed her eye line to his wrist. "I must admit the handcuffs were a little…uncomfortable, not to mention unnecessary. Then again, I can only imagine the satisfaction it brings you to know I couldn't sleep because of you."
She was unsure of how to interpret his words, but didn't want to think too deeply of it. "What can I say, I like to leave my mark on a man…just so they wont forget me."
"I doubt that'll ever be the case, Sydney. No matter how hard I try, I always seem to be in some sort of dealings with you…willingly or unwillingly."
"Trust me, I'm working on that." She retorted.
"Well then I must say you're doing an excellent job by recruiting me for your latest attempt to do damage to The Covenant." He mocked.
"You know what they say..." she sighed, "…Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer."
"Yes, but…how close?" He taunted, making note of her reaction.
She pursed her lips, holding back the urge to batter him with verbal abuse, and replied calmly, "Close enough", as she passed around him to cut though to the bedroom. Her eyes lingered on the ruffled duvet where Sark had been in what seemed to be peaceful slumber before she had intruded. His expensive scent intoxicated her nostrils as she stepped into the room, and she expected to gag any minute, yet she didn't. Instead she found the smell unusually appealing. Shaking any further thoughts, she continued through into the bathroom by opening the door to the right of the bed. Separating herself from reality for a moment she pushed the door shut before raking her hair back to secure a loose bun, using the mirror above the sink.
He simply smiled inwardly, taking another swig of his water, before stepping out onto the balcony to look down onto the scurrying imbeciles as they hurried to arrive at work on time. His feet numbed slightly at the cold concrete, yet he didn't care much; he was too involved with looking out onto the horizon of London's tall buildings, and wondered what view hid behind them. In a sudden though he removed the mobile phone from his pocket and flipped it open to dial a number.
"Excellent", was all Sydney heard him say as she came into the room. She saw him leaning against the balcony wall, and studied him as he slid his phone back into his trousers.
His curiosity turned to Sydney as he heard her re-enter the living area. Aware that she couldn't join him on the balcony, he stepped back onto the soft carpet of the room, only to be greeted by an evil glare, which he never tired of.
"Who was on the phone?" She asked him directly.
"I need a fresh suit." He replied. "I doubt the state of the one I'm wearing now would go down well tonight. I wouldn't want word to get round that I've been chained to a bedpost all night."
"Give me your phone." She demanded, holding her hand out expectantly.
"Very well." He obeyed, slapping it into her palm, and then took it back after she had checked the number he had dialled. "I see you still remain suspicious of me."
She scowled at him as she set the laptop up on the table. "So if what you've told me is correct, the entire hotel's CCTV system will be on loop now."
"I also took the liberty of buying you a dress." She craned her neck to look up at him, rolling her eyes. "That is only my assumption, that you don't have one?"
"I have a dress, and I don't need you to buy me anything." She spat, keying in a code on the laptop. "Were good; it's been looped. We have until midnight to get the file."
"Of course. I should have known you'd pack for any occasion. The CIA has you well trained, or should I be crediting SD-6 for an obvious success?"
"I did that the day I helped bring that place down."
"Yes. That did play out rather stupendously." He told her dropping his hands into his pockets.
"What time does the lock-in take place?" She asked, ignoring his bait.
"I expect it will be done before the event begins at eight-thirty." He handed her the envelope, which the receptionist had given him.
She took it and read the information carefully. "All donations appreciated." She read. "They've got millions, yet they still ask for more." She chuckled in disbelief. "Okay." She said, slapping her palms on her lap, as she stood tall. "We'll head down at nine, posing as a couple, make with the small talk until the organiser comes around for donations when I'll make as if I left my purse in our room. You'll feel the need to accompany me because I'll have had too much to drink, and that's when we'll gain access to Jawlenski's server before returning to see the night through. Understood?"
"It's all perfectly clear. Although it begs the question of what we plan to do until then?" He raised an eyebrow in a suggestive way she despised.
"I'd be more than happy to hand cuff you to the bed again. Or we could try the bathroom for a change?"
"It's a grand offer to be sure, however, I can wait until tonight." He told her cocking his eyebrow slightly.
She let out a small grunt of objection. "Be ready for nine. Until then…stay out of my way."
"I don't suppose that means taking a stroll outside?"
"No. It doesn't." And with that she turned her attention back to the laptop, typing in a non-committal manner. He on the other hand took a moment to observe her before returning out onto the balcony. She followed him from the corner of her eye, yet dismissed his very existence with all her effort, returning to the laptop screen.
Sydney had just clapped her laptop closed when an abrupt knocking came from behind the room door. She looked over her shoulder to peer into the bedroom, where Sark protruded from, heading directly towards the door. He shot her an expectant look and she scurried through into where he had come from, where she listened to who it was.
Sark made no hesitation in opening the door to greet the businesswoman who stood before him. She held two large clothes hangers draped in expensive clothes carriers, with such grace.
"Mr. Sark?" He gave a curt nod. "Your delivery."
"Ah. Excellent." He said, stepping backward to pass through into the bedroom. "I'll just get my wallet. Come in why don't you."
The lady did as he had offered and glanced around the hotel room. "Such a lovely view isn't it Sir?" She shouted back to him.
He on the other hand was too occupied searching for his wallet amongst his personal belongings. Sydney, who was stood against the wall at the end of the bed offered no help in finding it, and instead rolled her eyes in impatience. Grabbing it from the inside pocket of his suit jacket hung neatly over the chair next to her he moved back through into the living space.
"Yes it is." He finally answered. "But I must admit it does get rather monotonous with no one to enjoy it with." He added, handing her a wad of notes to more than cover the cost.
In return she transferred the hangers to him. "It's unexpected that a gentleman such as yourself should be without company." And with that she turned to stand back at the doorway. "I assumed the dress would be for your partner."
"I hope to woo a certain lady with it as a surprise for a special occasion. I'm told she's hard to impress." He informed her.
"If you don't mind me saying so sir, it would be impossible not to impress anyone with that dress."
"Thank you." He said before letting her leave down the hall.
Sydney returned to the lounge after she heard him close to door shut, giving him a pathetic look. He took no notice to it however; as he was too curious to reveal the dress he had asked the shop assistant to pick out for him. Unzipping the carrier, he carefully removed the dress, letting it drape down to the floor. It was surprising to him to be speechless for a brief moment, but overcame the sensation, rolling his gaze up to her, who was also somewhat taken by the dress.
"Well I did ask her to choose something 'ravishing'." There was a slight fumble in his choice of words, but he made sure it wasn't obvious when he spoke to Sydney. As if he had suddenly remembered something, he briskly brushed passed her pressing the dress against her in a seemingly non-committal gesture, to go into the bedroom.
She attempted to give a small objection to taking the dress yet found her fingers grasp it. Feeling the sheer quality of the material made her wonder just how much he had spent on it, as it obviously wasn't your average cocktail dress. It was deep wine in colour, made from a slightly giving material and had extremely fine detail worked into it, which offered a mesmerizing glow. From the way it hung on its hanger she could see it was a low cut halter-neck design, with an a-line split hem, which rippled down to where she presumed would be her ankles. There was no denying it was a stunning garment, but everything it represented made her track Sark's footsteps into the bedroom, where he had just lay his sit down on the bed.
"I told you I already have a dress." She reminded him laying it gently over the chair next to her. "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't make such gestures, which would indicate we are anything but enemies."
He glanced up at her last words, feeling the weight of her eyes. "Sydney…I am in no way attempting to buy your trust. I was simply acting upon my suspicions that you hadn't bought eveningwear with you."
"Well don't." She warned, her face stricken with frustration.
"Obviously I was mistaken." He replied, too busy to hear his own words as he was trying to read into her thoughts; work out what she was really thinking. She turned to head out the room but lingered in the doorway as his words crept up on her once more. "I'd give it to someone more grateful, but I honestly doubt it would have the same effect as I can imagine it would look on you." She didn't waste her time snapping back with some disgusted remark and instead continued out the doorway. Although slightly insulted by her apparent dismissal of him, he felt moderately satisfied and gave a twitch of a smile.
It was almost eight o 'clock and Sydney had begun to make an effort to prepare herself for the charity event due to start in half an hour. She had unrolled her dress and hung it against the bathroom door to let the slight creases drop out before having to wear it. She had been surprised at Sark, who had pretty much done as she had told him; to stay out of her way. It made her wonder what kind of a person he really was, when he wasn't being the arrogant nuisance he lead everyone to believe he was. She was cut off from her thoughts when she caught herself in the mirror. It still shocked her when she saw another woman looking back at her. There was only so much she could pretend to be. Inside she was still Sydney Bristow; the person she had always been and yet she was so different now. Studying herself more carefully she saw that her hair had been virtually stripped of any brunette, leaving a glowing blonde façade. Inside, however, she was not glowing. It had been so long since she had been allowed to be herself; so long she had a hard time remembering who she was anymore. For now though she knew she must be Julia Thorne. Her thoughts didn't move past that name as it rang in her head, leaving a tacky distaste upon her.
"Amazing isn't it?" Came a familiar voice from behind her. She had been too preoccupied looking at herself that she hadn't registered the dark figure appear behind her in the mirror. He must have noticed she was in deep thought as he patiently waited for her reply.
"What?" She asked, shaking herself from the overwhelming haze of thought, all too eager to turn her back to the mirror to face him.
"How pretending to be someone else will eventually lead you to question your own identity. Especially when everyone you once knew is under the impression you are dead. It makes you wonder what life would be like if you didn't have people like me to remind you of who you really are."
She gave some serious consideration to his words before answering. "Sark, if I didn't have people like you in my life I wouldn't be here right now and might actually be able to have a normal life."
"Is that really what you want Sydney; a normal life? Like you had before SD-6?"
"Yes." She replied adamantly. "But it seems like everyone around me thinks they know what's best for me." She added turning around to untie her hair in the mirror.
He was aware of the many secrets she had discovered to be kept by those close to her and the many, which she hadn't…yet. Looking at her know though, he saw the pain etched across her face and the resentment towards him, which he understood. "I truly believe that had it not been for SD-6 recruiting you into its organisation you would have ended up all the same in this line of work."
"That's all it is to you isn't it; work?" He digested her question not answering for a moment. "Well I don't get the luxury of being able to walk away so easily. Whether I like it or not this is my life, everything is personal."
He looked away for a brief moment, saying, "I can remember a time when it was only a job to me, but it slowly becomes you." Bringing his eyes to rest on her reflection again he continued. "Sydney, doing what we do, it is impossible not to get involved. So much so that we lose any clear distinction between our jobs and our lives." The bathroom was impressively large and he explored it pacing around slowly only to lower himself to sit on the edge of the bathtub.
She was shocked at how true his words were to her own life and couldn't imagine when or how he had developed such a clear perception on life. Then again she wondered a lot of how he had become the man he was today and was curious to know when it had gone wrong for him. Surely no one could love the job that much, not even Sark. "I don't have a life anymore. I'm dead remember and as long as The Covenant exists I know I don't have any chance of getting it back."
"Do you want it back?" He prodded.
Unsure of whether to honour him with an answer, she turned to him again. "I know I don't want this life anymore. Isn't that enough?"
Offering half a nod he replied, "Sometimes what we want isn't always what we need, Sydney. I'm curious as to whether or not you'd accept your life back the way it was, knowing what you know. Would you be able to walk back into the CIA to work alongside those who have already accepted your death? Including Mr. Vaughn and your father"
She hadn't really considered what she might do when she had destroyed The Covenant, but thinking it over now, she was just as curious as he was. "I don't know." She answered honestly. "Knowing my father he probably suspects I'm alive and as far as Vaughn is concerned, I think we've both moved on."
He was apparently shocked at her last words, but she knew better than to take Sark genuinely. "Yes. I did hear of his latest marital status. I must admit I was lightly shocked at how little time he wasted in doing so. Then again, death does put a strain on any relationship. I have first hand experience of that myself."
"I hardly see the comparison between your relationships and mine." She scowled.
"Although you made an enemy of Allison-" he was unable to finish as she cut him off closing yin on him.
"You want to know why she was my enemy? Um?" She spat, whipping her hand around his throat, allowing him to barely breathe. "Not only did she kill my best friend, but had herself changed to look like her so that she could use me and Will! Enemy doesn't even describe what she was to me!" She broke away, breaking her tight grip on him. "She was the face of someone I loved…" Tears threatened to fall; yet she was too proud to cry in front of him. "…And you have no idea what it was like to watch her die. To feel sad and relieved at the same time."
Allowing for a much-needed gasp of air he sat up straight and was taken aback at her obvious pain. "She was simply doing her job."
"So when she almost killed me she was doing her job?" Growing more frustrated at his lack of response, she leaned into him placing her hands firmly on the bathtub either side of him. "Every time she kissed Will, was she just doing her job then?" She stared deeply into his eyes, which gave nothing away and then jolted him backwards to crack his head against the cold bathroom tiles. "Well was it worth it, did you get what you wanted?"
"Sydney…" he began, trying to avoid her question.
"No come on! Tell me! Was ruining my life worth it? Did you get your paycheque?" She demanded allowing him to return to a sitting position.
"Do you really want me to answer that, Sydney?"
There was a long pause before either of them made an attempt to speak. She drew in a calm collective breath, straightening herself up to address him. "I need to get ready", was all she said. Taking his que to exit he slowly strolled over to the bathroom doorway. However, something made him pause and he looked back over his shoulder slightly as if to say something but dismissed the thought and left. Although a bit curious as to what he would have said, Sydney closed the door after him and returned to her tedious reflection and began to get ready.
Sark had been ready for quite some time now as he sat tangled in his thoughts on the sofa. He hadn't heard her emerge from the bathroom and was evidently shocked at her sudden appearance in front of him. All he seemed to be able to do was stare in astonishment as he drawled his eyes slowly from her legs up to her smoky eyes. He took all of her in for a moment, liking how the tight-fitting black dress she wore cut her figure perfectly. Even he couldn't have imagined a picture of her so fascinating. Her dress was simple, yet the wide v-neck front accentuated her collarbone and the Spanish inspired frilled hem parted at many parts when she walked to allow for a glimpse of skin.
She couldn't help but feel lifted at his reaction to her and had extreme difficulty holding a smile back. "It's almost nine." She informed him.
He thought about making a cocky remark about her attire, yet couldn't find the words to describe it. "Then I guess we had better head downstairs", was all he finally said, raising himself to meet her eyes level. It was then that he breathed her in, loving her scent and those eyes…he thought. He wanted so much to know what went on behind those eyes. Then again he couldn't imagine it would be as much fun to know as he loved guessing.
She quickly patted her hair to assure herself it was all in place. It had taken her quite some time to fix it up in the unruly twists held in pace by small sparkling clips, which added to her glow. "Let's go." She said taking a deep breath in before opening the door of the hotel and stepped out into the hallway. He was right behind her and clicked the door shut before stepping to her side to head to the elevator.
When the elevator arrived she was the first to step inside, leaving him to press the button to take them down to the ground floor. She had chosen to ignore the mirror, which had greeted her as the door had slid open and stood firmly with her back towards it. He on the other hand took the opportunity to discreetly flicker his eyes towards it to admire the back of her dress, which draped down to the small of her back. For once Sydney was grateful to be staying in a room on a floor so high as it took a while for the elevator to drop through the many floors.
"Remember I'm Julia…not Sydney." She reminded him quickly as the light steel doors swung back to reveal a large hall filled with people she could only imagine were under the illusion that this was anything but a high-class scandal.
"Shall we?" He asked holding his arm out to her and guided her out of the lift as she reluctantly took it putting a very convincing smile on her face.
They slowly made their way to the bar at the opposite end of the hall, taking time to case the place for guards and Covenant organisers.
"You see Jawlenski?" She asked him, disguising it as a brief cuddle into his neck.
"No." He replied appreciated her good sport in such a situation and returned the willingness by gentle resting his hand around her waist as he saw her to her stool at the bar. He was about to place himself on the stool next to her when he was hollered by a familiar voice.
"Julian?" Asked a surprised female voice.
Having clear suspicions as to whom it was he reluctantly turned around to greet the brunette who was now stood in front of him. "Harriet." He greeted her in the same over-enthusiastic manner.
"I didn't expect to see you here tonight." She said giving him a devilish smirk.
"Yes. I was in the area on some business with my partner." He turned to Sydney observing her curious look. "Julia this is Harriet Jones. We've worked together on various occasions conducting operations for The Covenant. Harriet specialises in security. She was behind the raid on the Government facility in Cuba last month."
"Nice to meet you." Sydney lied, politely shaking the brunettes hand. "I'm Julia Thorne."
"Yes. I've heard so much about you." She confessed breaking away from Sydney's hand in a new found disgust. "Tell me. How is it that you came to work with Julian?" She quizzed not making any effort to speed her reply.
Sydney contemplated her answer for just a moment, flicking her gaze to Sark and then returned to Harriet. It was obvious that she was aware of her past and her involvement with the CIA. "We share certain interests." Was all she said, fully aware of how annoying it would be to give such a vague answer to such an interested person.
"I see." Replied Harriet squaring the pair up. Sydney guessed she was probably trying to figure out whether they were more than just 'partners' as Sark had told her and for tonight at least they were. Harriet was about to speak when a well-dressed man called her over, obviously in a fascinating conversation with who Sydney assumed to be a highly regarded Covenant worker. Harriet slumped in apparent annoyance at the man and turned back to them flashing a forced smile. "Please excuse me."
"Of course." Sydney quickly shot at her.
"I'll catch up with you two later." She assured them, leaning slyly into Sark to seductively place a kiss on his left cheek. He didn't return the gesture and instead let her go not bothering to follow her with his eyes.
"Drink?" He asked Sydney, leaning forward on the bar to attract the waiter.
"Harriet Jones?" She mocked raising her eyebrows at him.
"Yes." Not satisfied that she believed him and picking up on the obvious hint that she was implying that he had been involved with Harriet. "We worked together."
"So you two never…?" She roamed trying to squeeze a confession out of him for the pure thrill that she knew she had the ability to do so.
"Hardly." He objected. About to say more he was interrupted by the waiter, now stood before him awaiting his order. "Petrusse '82 and…" He trailed off turning to Sydney for her to voice her preference in drink.
"Dry Martini with an olive…dirty." She half-purred at the waiter, making him move right into action. He gave Sark an impressed look before shuffling down to the end of the bar to get their drinks. "The way she was all over you I'd say you had a history with her."
"Although I'd love to banter endlessly with you, I'm afraid we have a bigger matter at hand. Despite the fact that Harriet and I never formed a relationship it would appear she may be a problem for us tonight."
Sydney saw his gaze tick over her shoulder and following his eye-line she saw non other than Harriet blatantly studying the two. Clenching her jaw, Sydney turned back to Sark who had sat himself on the stool next to hers. "Well I guess we'd better make sure she's not."
"And how do you propose we do that?" He prodded.
She didn't answer. Instead she edged in closer to him and for a moment he thought she might kiss him, but was proven otherwise when she tilted her head down to nuzzle into his neck, giving all the intended impressions to Harriet, who was now seething with envy. "Try to make this look convincing." She told him. Then she brought her head back up brushing a soft kiss on the same cheek Harriet had, laying a flirtatious hand on his chest, then lazily dropping it down to his thigh before standing up off her stool. "Excuse me. I need to use the bathroom." She said clearly enough for Harriet to decipher her lip movement.
Sark didn't need to make anything look convincing and found himself thoroughly enjoying her touch. He couldn't help the sharp tingles of electricity that shuddered his skin as her hand moved over him. "Go ahead." Was all he felt able to say as she turned to walk away.
She felt herself being tugged back and spun to see he had clutched her hand gentle pulling her closer. "I must say we look quite the loved-up couple." He said below a whisper in her ear.
Choosing to bite her tongue, Sydney simply cocked her head coyly adding to the facade and pressed her lips briefly against his before turning away for good. This time Sark did watch her go, unable to wipe the smirk from his face. He noted Harriet's reaction and saw that she wasted no time in following Sydney to the ladies' room.