"Fuck!" He hissed while rushing to zip up his pants. Sydney Bristow was calling from outside his door.
"Sark?" she yelled in a not-so-friendly manner. "If you don't open up, I'll break this door down!" she fairly warned him. He glanced towards the light-haired woman slipping on her sandals. She sauntered seductively over to him, slung an arm around his neck, and whispered in his ear,
"Let's do this again sometime." He raised his eye, impressed and called to Sydney while the other woman walked out the back.
"Hold on, love. Just putting on my trousers ..." he stepped over to the door, and checked his zipper, "Don't want to catch me indecent, do you? Or do you?" Julian could feel her anger rising. Feeling like God, he looked through the peep-hole and smirked. A lovely thin, white cotton t-shirt and a flouncy floral knee-length skirt with lavish Manolos. Her arms were crossed, and then she shouted again,
"I'm giving you twenty seconds!" But suddenly ... her eyes began shifting down the hall and then her hands wandered through her hair, tousling it a bit. Sydney's eyes closed, but her fingers were running through her hair, and it looked like she was in a shampoo commercial, fixing up her hair. When was she one to care? Sark accidentally let out a small moan and watched Sydney instantaneously stop, her eyes narrowing. Shit. He opened the door, and expected to hear one of Sydney's smart retorts to his previous comment about her seeing him indecent. What he got he enjoyed much more, he found.