"That's some outfit your wardrobe department saddled you with," Sark chuckles as she sits sullenly across from him in the back of the limo. "But then, you always look fetching."
"Shut up," she snaps. "I'm not comfortable with this."
"What's the matter, Sydney?" he shrugs, "You've done this plenty of times before, for the CIA. Or is it just not the same without Vaughn here to tell you what to do?"
She considers flicking her com back on, but then thinks better of it. There's no reason for Vaughn and Weiss to hear any of this.
"It must've been a shock," Sark begins, "To find out the man you love up and married someone else."
"We are not discussing this."
"Ms. Reed is quite a pretty girl, though…" Sark stops as though he's thought better of what he might say, "She doesn't seem to be the sharpest knife in the drawer. It seems that you, however, or Julia Thorne, should I say, have not been lacking company in these past few years."
Her glare could kill, but he just smiles at her. "I, unfortunately, have not been so lucky. The CIA isn't much for conjugal visits for suspected terrorists."
"Cry me a river," she retorts. "You don't think you're risking compromising me by us leaving together? Isn't that a little convenient that the newest member of Walker's team is someone who has a history with their latest employer? I thought you were smarter than that."
"Hm, that is where you're wrong," he says assuredly. "You see, I have very little to lose in this situation. I've already lost two years of my life. My inheritance. I am but a cog in a machine that is using my money. You, on the other hand… You have much to gain, provided you cooperate, but much to lose if you don't. I would hate for Mr. Walker to see these photos," he passes her a brown envelope.
Scowling, she takes it from him in a huff and opens it to find black and white surveillance photos of her and Vaughn from about 4 hours ago. "You are a selfish, hedonistic—"
His laugh stops her short. "Have I ever told you how lovely you are when you're angry, Sydney?" She feels like she is frozen as he reaches out and again caresses her cheek with the back of his hand. "This should be a lot of fun, working with you."
"Stop it," she pushes his hand away and throws the envelope back at him. "Just… stop." She is angry with him, but the feel of his hand on her cheek is also making her insanely curious about what that hand would feel like… other places. Maybe she did have something with Walker, but if she did, she can't remember it, and all she is left with is the fading memory of what it was like… before, and even that is slipping away like the memory of a dream once she is awake.
Better the devil you know, she thinks, than the one you can't remember.