Chapter Eight
Sark is running down the stairs, someone is screaming. It's got him frightened to the core. He can't get to her. The door in front of him is locked. He kicks, groans, screams; he does whatever he can to get out his anger. The screaming continues. It's getting louder, more frightened. It's breaking him. He yells out a name he cannot hear. Tears are streaming down his cheeks, but he does not notice.
He is inside the room, darkness. A woman on a gurney, unmoving. Running, racing to her, he stops short. He cannot touch her. If he does, it is real. It cannot be real. The woman gasps, her chest moves. She is breathing.
He runs to her side, picks her up and holds her to him. "I thought I lost you" he kept repeating. "I'm sorry" she whispers.
"No, love, I'm sorry. I never told you this, but I love you" he told her, and she began to cry.
"I love you too" she whispered.
"I love you so much Sydney" Sark whispered, and kissed her softly.
He awoke with a start. What was that? he wondered. Running his hands over his face and through his hair, his mind kept flashing back to him telling Sydney that he loved her. It was just a dream he told himself, but he knew it must be more.
Hearing his stomach growl, he decided it was time to eat something. He left his room and headed to the kitchen, stopping by Sydney's room on the way. Her door was open and her bed was unmade and empty.
He looked at the door and noticed the note taped lightly on the wood;
Thought, you might want to know, I'm in the kitchen.
You should be proud, I wheeled myself!
Sydney
Suddenly, he was struck with the idea of sneaking up on her in the kitchen.
He headed to the kitchen and quietly creeped behind a wall, preparing to strike.
"I think you're losing it Sark, I heard you coming down the stairs," she wheeled around the corner, "I've been waiting for you to hide for a bit. You took too long."
He flashed a sheepish grin and ran his hands through his hair, "I was doing no such thing Bristow."
"Sure you weren't. You just really like standing flat against a wall preparing to strike," she giggled, "I saw your face Sark, you were trying to scare me!" she pouted, "how could you do such a thing to an injured woman in a wheelchair?"
"I see no woman present."
"Oh, well that just got you five minutes of silence."
"Only five!" he remarked, "I would have thought at least ten."
"Well, you're being punished. Plus, I know how much you enjoy the silence."
"I think I've had enough silence this past week. More than enough silence from you than I could handle in a lifetime."
She chuckled, "yeah, like you could stand anyone for an entire lifetime."
"Who knows?" he replied.
They were silent all through breakfast after that.
"Julian?"
"So we're back to Julian then?" he asked.
"Yes, Julian."
"What would you like Sydney?"
"What day of the week is it?"
"It's Saturday."
"Oh." Sydney's expression fell visibly.
"Why?" he asked, "what's wrong?"
"I'm sorry about your event last Wednesday. You missed it."
"I was taking care of some much more important business," he said, smiling. "Don't you worry about it."
"I'm still sorry."
He looked down at his plate for a while, thinking of what he could do to make her feel less guilty, when he came up with the perfect plan.
"Syd? How about I take you out for a surprise tomorrow?"
"This kind of surprise better not end up with us getting shot at again. I don't like those kinds of surprises" she said, smiling a smile that lit up the room.
"Well, it's a date."
"A date?" she asked with a straight face, but there was a certain sparkle in her eyes. Her look matched his.
"If you want it to be" he replied, now adding a grin to the sparkle.
There was a pause of silence until Sydney answered, "ok."
"Ok" he repeated.
"Julian?"
"Yes?"
"No dancing, alright?"
"No dancing" he said.
"Ok," she said, looking off into the distance, her face took on an amused look, "oh god! I have nothing to wear!"
He laughed, stood up and wheeled her into the hallway, "You could wear nothing, and I'd be perfectly happy."
He chuckled when he heard her mutter "cocky bastard" under her breath.
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Sark carefully pushed her wheelchair outside and he took a seat on a chair next to her. She was looking out to the garden, which was blooming beautifully. Lilies and rose bushes dominated the garden, tangling vines throughout.
"It's so gorgeous out here. I love this place. I feel like I never want to leave."
"You can stay for as long as you'd like. That offer will always be there."
"Can I ask you a personal question, Julian?" she asked timidly.
"You can ask, but I'm not 100 sure I'll answer," he replied with a grin, "but that also means that I get to ask you one."
"Why Lauren?"
Sark closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, he saw Sydney's eyes probing into his very soul. She wanted to know the answer, so she would find out. He was trying to decide how to tell her about his past lover, that wasn't the easiest thing to do. Especially when you had just figured out that you cared about someone else, more than you did the last.
"Why Lauren? Well, I don't think I'll ever be too sure of that," he paused, collecting his thoughts. "I guess that there were a few factors that I enjoyed. The first being the personal jab I got to throw at Agent Vaughn by sleeping with his wife. Second, it made me angry to see him let go of someone as perfect as you. He had to feel something of betrayal. Third, she wasn't too needy. And finally, she was amazing in bed."
Her face had a mixed look of confusion, sadness and shock. "Oh."
"Oh?"
"I just didn't expect you to answer it that way I guess."
"What were you expecting?"
"I don't know, more feeling… I really don't have a clue."
"I don't really think I loved her. I think I loved the situation. No attachments, just sex. And I don't know how he ever let go of you Sydney" he brushed a stray piece of hair out of her face.
Sydney shifted uncomfortably in her chair, "I think it's your turn to ask me a question."
"Alright" he said, his forehead wrinkled in thought, "OK. Why didn't you tell me you'd moved to New York?"