Author's Note: Sorry this chapter has taken so long! As we all know, Christmas is the crazy season, and it's been even crazier than usual! Hopefully, things will calm down soon!

Cheeky.

Never Broken

By cheeky-chaos

Chapter Five:

Galway

To pass the next few hours, I drove back to Galway to do some shopping and to plot my next move. If I knew Sark well enough, and I was hoping I did, he would no doubt make an appearance at one of the elegant, expensive restaurants for dinner, giving me the opportunity I needed.

I walked down the streets, listening to the curious mix of languages that seemed a natural part of the city. My trained ear could pick up the various conversations in French, German and English, as well as several others. Slipping through the crowds of shoppers, I paused when a shop caught my eye. The clothes in the window were funky and they would have been something I would have loved to wear…

I finished the thought: had I not been an agent with the CIA. Well, technically, I had left my resignation notice back in my kitchen in Los Angeles, so I wasn't really a CIA agent anymore. So why the hell couldn't I go and buy some new clothes to celebrate that?

Walking into the shop, I paused a minute to look over the clothes and shoes inside the shop. Rock music drifted out from somewhere and I couldn't help but smile. I think a lot of people would be shocked at this side of Sydney Bristow, but I was sick of hiding. I was finally going to be exactly who I was – not what people wanted me to be.

"Hello, there." A voice said to me, and I turned to find a woman standing at my elbow.

She was dressed in tight dark blue jeans with heeled leather boots over them that came to her knees. Her stomach was bare and her black top had a high neck and long, flowing sleeves. Her outfit was completed with her long black hair done in tiny braids and what looked like a fedora at a jaunty angle on her head.

"My name is Sonja. And this is my shop." She gave me a knowing smile. "Feeling like a change?"

"Sydney." I replied. "And I guess I do feel like a change, in a way. I'm sick of being what everyone wants me to be."

Sonja raised her eyebrows, but she nodded as if she knew just what I meant. "You're an American, by the sounds. Wanted a change of scenery too?"

I nodded with a smile. "Yeah."

"Well, Sydney." She said, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "Let's see what we can do!"

I tried to keep the knowing smile off my face as I sauntered into the restaurant and saw Sark's familiar blond head. He was sitting alone at a table, just finishing his meal and thankfully he wasn't facing me. I didn't want to give him any opportunity to get away from me.

Thanks to Sonja, I was feeling better than I had in a long time, with a funky new haircut, new clothes and new shoes. I wore a short black dress that hugged my figure in all the right places and knee high heeled boots with silver buckles down the sides – which I thought were probably some of the sexiest shoes I'd ever owned! My hair hung in funky layers all around my face and down my back (including a fringe that fell over one eye) and my eyes were outlined with black eyeliner. I liked the new look. It was more kick-butt that the old one, just like I felt.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" the maitre de asked me.

"I'm here to meet a friend." I said, giving him a knowing smile and nodding towards Sark. I used all the tricks I had picked up over the years to get my way, but this time I didn't hide behind any mission persona. It was all me. "It's a surprise."

"Ma'am, I'm not sure…" the maitre de said.

I interrupted him. "Please? I haven't seen him in such a long time, and I really was hoping to surprise him."

The maitre de narrowed his eyes. "He usually eats alone." He said.

"I know." I replied. "That's why I wanted to surprise him here."

Sighing, the maitre de gave in. "Very well. But if he doesn't appreciate the surprise, I will have to ask you to leave."

"Thank you." I told him, before sauntering off to 'surprise' Sark.

I studied him as I walked up. Just like at the party in Prague, I noticed he seemed weary, and his shoulders were slightly slumped, as if he was carrying a large weight. This was unusual as the Sark I remembered never let anything get to him. Maybe the last two years had changed him.

"Is this seat taken?" I asked, before slipping into the chair opposite him anyway.

Sark's head snapped up, startled. I delighted in the feeling of having the tables turned for once. "Sydney?" he said curiously.

I leant forward and put my chin on my arms, which were propped on the table. "Sark."

"Should I expect a few of your friends to rush over and arrest me again?" Sark asked me, although there seemed to be an undercurrent of exhaustion in his voice. "Or are you going to do it yourself?"

"I'm not here to arrest you, Sark." I told him. "I'm here because you told me that if I ever wanted to combine our forces…you'd be open to it."

I couldn't keep the smirk off my face as I watched Sark's mask slip for a second as I surprised him for a second time in as many minutes. I was beginning to like doing that. Surprise was closely followed by hope before his mask snapped back into place. "Are you proposing a partnership, Sydney?" Sark asked smoothly.

"I do believe I am." I replied.

Sark gave me a piercing look. "How do I know this isn't a trap?"

My expression turned serious. I had known Sark wouldn't just trust my word, so I had come prepared. I slid a disk across the table. "This is a copy of the location of Rambaldi's missing manuscript, which also happens to be the second part of his prophecy."

That got me Sark's attention. "And what do you want in return?" he asked.

"I want to find out what's in that prophecy…and I need help in taking down the Covenant." I told him. "And you don't need to worry about the CIA. I quit."

Sark slowly began to smile. "Does the CIA know you've quit?" he asked, amusement making his eyes almost seem warm.

"It might take them a little while, but they'll get the idea. They can be rather slow." I said, smirking.

"Well, I do believe this calls for celebration." Sark said and motioned a waiter over.

Somehow the waiter knew Sark's favourite wine, because I soon had a glass of Chateau Patreuse '82 sitting in front of me. "To our new partnership." Sark toasted. "May the Covenant only find out when it's too late."

"To our new partnership." I echoed.

I took a sip of the wine, which was excellent (Sark never did things by halves) and looked at Sark. His characteristic smirk was on his face and seemingly unconcerned, he simply sipped his own glass of wine while he regarded me with cool blue eyes.

So that was how I ended up in one of the strangest situations I've been in, and believe me, I've been in many. But somehow, as weird as it was to have dinner with the man who had been my sworn enemy for years and now was my partner, it also felt right. Like this was meant to be. I can't say I was utterly delighted at the feeling, as destiny had always made me a little nervous, but I felt better than I had in a very long time. I felt free.

"Since the CIA has a copy of these coordinates, I take it you would like to retrieve the manuscript as soon as possible?" he asked me.

I nodded. "The coordinates are somewhere in the Himalayas." I said. "So I'd pack something warm."

Sark smirked. "I'll make a note of that. Is departing at 7'o'clock tomorrow morning too early for you?"

"It's fine." I said, taking another sip of wine.

Sark inclined his head in agreement. "Then I suppose I shall see you at airport tomorrow, Sydney."

I nodded, getting up to leave. We didn't fully trust each other, and I'm not sure I ever would, but it was enough for now. As I turned to walk away, Sark made a comment that made me turn back around to face him and raise an interested eyebrow. "Before you go, Sydney, I have to tell you that I like your new look."

"Thank you." I replied. "I thought it was time to stop being what everyone else thought I should be."

Sark nodded, as if understanding the feeling. He probably did, come to think of it. His characteristic smirk was back on his face and as I left, I could feel his eyes following me across the room. I shot a final glance over my shoulder before I slipped out the door to retrieve my coat. Sark caught my glance and raised his glass. Smiling, I grabbed my coat and slipped back out into the chilly Irish night.

At 7am the next morning, I arrived at the airport and was directed to Mr. Sark's private plane. It seemed working for yourself had some perks that the CIA didn't. Strangely, I was running a little late. Now that I didn't have to fit the CIA agent mould, it had taken me longer to get ready. At least I knew I looked good.

I was dressed in dark jeans, with my buckled boots over the top, much like Sonja had worn. My top was lacy and black, with a blood red sweater under my leather jacket. My makeup was the same as last night underneath my sunglasses. The look was completely different to the Sydney Bristow everyone thought they knew…and I kind of liked that feeling.

"Miss Bristow?" a male voice with an Irish lilt asked as I approached the sleek private plane on one of the smaller runways.

I turned, my muscled tensed and ready and my hand hovering close to my gun. I recognised the man standing behind me as the man who had greeted Sark back at his house, so I lowered my guard a fraction. "Yes?" I asked warily.

"My name is Liam." He said, his green eyes glinting with amusement. "I'm a friend of Mr. Sark's. May I take your bags?"

Still warily regarding Liam, I let him take my bags and direct me towards the open door of Sark's plane. "Sure." I answered.

Watching Liam out the corner of my eye, I walked up the stairs into the plane, slipping my sunglasses onto the top of my head as I did so. He followed me, before placing my bag in a small cupboard (I made sure I knew which one) and heading towards the cockpit.

"Good morning, Sydney." Sark greeted.

I looked over to where Sark was casually sitting on one of the leather seats, dressed in dark jeans and a black jumper, his black coat slung over the back of the chair. It was more casually than I had ever seen him dressed, if you didn't count the sweats he wore while he was imprisoned. Obviously, my dark look amused him, because he smirked before motioning to the large cup of coffee on the small table in front of him. "Coffee?" he asked.

"Thank you." I said grudgingly, before slumping down in the chair opposite. Mornings really weren't my best time of day.

Sipping the coffee, a discrete chime sounded before the pilot notified us that we would be taking off soon. I had to say I was impressed. Sark must have noticed, because his smirk got bigger. "Relax and enjoy the ride, Sydney." He said.

"That's easy for you to say." I muttered.

Sark settled back down into his seat and pulled out what looked like a mystery novel and began to read. I continued to drink my coffee, hunkering down further into my seat as I watched Sark read. He seemed completely unconcerned by what I was sure was a dark look being directed at him. As the caffeine began to kick in, I began to feel restless. I hadn't thought to bring a book of my own because I never needed one on my CIA missions – I was always too busy going over the mission specs or catching up on my sleep.

Finally, my fidgeting and constant shifting seemed too much for even Sark's impressive patience. He tossed me a folder. "The coordinates you gave me appear to be a small monastery." He said.

I winced slightly when I looked over at him, although I cursed myself for it. "Sorry." I felt compelled to apologise for disturbing him, which was strange in itself, because I never would have in the past.

"Don't be." Sark replied, before motioning to the novel he had put down. "It was too predictable. I knew who did it after the first thirty pages."

I had to smile at that. "I don't think the author took it into account that spies would ever read it." I said.

"Perhaps." Sark agreed with a shrug. "I took the liberty of obtaining some clothes and equipment for the climb."

"Climb?" I echoed, trying to keep track of the change in topic.

The second I opened the folder Sark had thrown at me, I realised. It seemed that while we could fly a chopper most of the way up the mountain face, where the monastery was located, we would have to climb the final stretch on foot. The monastery was located behind one of the peaks on the side of another, in a valley of sorts, preventing the chopper from flying directly there. So we'd have to go around the first face on foot. Thankfully, I knew how to climb a mountain, although I wasn't looking forward to it.

"Do we have to climb the whole thing?" I asked Sark, slipping completely back into mission-mode.

Sark shook his head in answer. "No. You can't see it very well on the photograph, but my information tells me there should be a path to the monastery from halfway around the first face." He explained. "It shouldn't take us more than an hour."

"Good." I muttered, before looking up. "Do we know if the CIA is sending anyone?"

Sark arched an eyebrow. "I would have thought that was your department." He smirked.

I narrowed my eyes in response. "Very funny." I muttered. "You know I severed all ties when I resigned."

Sark's smirk got wider as he successfully riled me up. That man seemed to take pleasure in always doing that – even now that we were effectively on the same side. "No, I don't know if the CIA is sending someone." He answered my question. "But my guess would be yes. By now they have no doubt discovered you accessed the coordinates before you left and they'll want to reach them first."

I sighed. "I thought you were going to say that." I said. "Oh, well. If they get there first, we'll just have to steal the manuscript back."

At my comment, Sark grinned outright. "Steal from the CIA?" he said, amusement clear in his voice. "When you finally decide to go out on your own, you don't do it by halves, do you?"

I shrugged. "They've lied to me for the last time." I told him. "You'd do well to remember that. I can still shoot you."

Sark shook his head with a soft chuckle. "That be necessary, Sydney." He said, before settling back in his seat to regard me with yet another smirk. "I do believe I'm going to have fun working with you."

"Shut up, Sark."

Ten hours later, my mood hadn't improved. In fact, it had gotten significantly worse, because now my face felt frozen, as were my fingers and toes. It didn't matter that in addition to the hiking boots, thick socks and specially designed cold-wear jackets and pants (in black – Sark did bring them, after all), I wore gloves, a beanie and several layers underneath. It was freezing up here. I wore sunglasses too, but somehow, I don't think they helped warm my face any.

At least on the up side, neither Sark nor I had spotted anyone else climbing up this stupid mountain.

The downside was that despite having slogged up the mountain for an hour, we still weren't at the monastery. Hell, we couldn't even see the monastery yet! That, combined with the cold, the rough path and my already bad temper, had turned me into a very grumpy Sydney. Lord help anyone who got in my way today!

Still grumbling to myself, I followed the rocky and icy path around a corner and suddenly stopped in surprise. Spread out before me, was a magnificent and sprawling building that was a part of the mountain is stood on. I stood there for a moment and just gazed at it. I felt Sark come up behind me and do the same. "Looks like we what we were looking for." He said softly.

I just nodded, still gazing at the graceful and beautiful monastery. A path of brick started just beyond the corner, making walking easier and somehow it even seemed warmer here. Sark and I walked up to the large carved doors set into the stone wall that surrounded the monastery, and they swung open as soon as we were close enough.

"Not a very good security system." Sark muttered.

I shrugged. It made things easier for us. My smartass reply died on my tongue when I saw what was beyond those gates, however. A lush and green garden spread out from either side of the path, completely strange considering we were in the middle of the Himalayas! But I suppose when you considered that Rambaldi was able to keep a flower alive for centuries in a sealed container, maybe not so strange.

It was also a lot warmer here; think spring in LA. I had no idea why and wasn't sure I wanted to find out. It did make things annoying though, as I was dressed for cold and snow and ice, not the tropics! I continued up the path, Sark a step behind me. To either side of me were plants that I didn't recognise in the slightest, and while I may not be a botanist or anything like that, I had a feeling that these plants had been considered extinct for centuries.

Beyond us and the garden, the monastery itself rose up and towered over us. The monastery was made of grey stone that made it look like part of the mountain-side. Its many layered roof was covered in a thick layer of snow. Graceful, arching windows looked out over the garden and the path led to a set of stone steps that led to another large, carved wooden door, like the one in the wall.

As we approached closer to the steps, the doors opened to reveal an old man dressed in the traditional orange robes of a senior Buddhist monk. His face was lined with age and his head was bald, but he gazed as Sark and me with alert and intelligent brown eyes. He smiled as his eyes slid to me. "I am glad you have come, Isabella." He told me, his voice rough with age.

His smile faded slightly when he spotted Sark over my shoulder and his eyes widened in surprise. "He is with you." He sounded almost awed by this, before grinning so much his entire face lit up. "I should never have doubted. Come, you will be wanting an explanation."

As he disappeared inside the monastery again, I heard Sark speak from behind me. "Isabella?" he asked, his voice as cold as the mountain we had just climbed.

I turned to face him and saw he now wore the polished mask of the cold-blooded killer I had once believed him only to be. In that moment, I feared that whatever ground we had gained over the last few days had been lost. Breathing out a long sigh, I prepared to tell Sark the truth I had only told my father knowing it would be the only thing that would regain his trust. Why that was so important, I'm not sure, but it went beyond his help with my mission.

"Isabella Rambaldi." I said. "Milo's daughter. I look exactly like her and recently I've been having dreams of being her, except they feel more like memories to me."

"And this monk believes you are her?" Sark asked, but he lost some of the coldness to his expression.

I shrugged. "I don't know what he thinks." I said truthfully. "But I know others do."

Sark nodded slowly, seeming to accept my explanation. "Perhaps we should hear his explanation." He finally replied.

Nodding, I turned back to the steps and walked into the monastery. The elderly monk was waiting for us just inside the door, but didn't say anything despite the curiosity in his expression. He led us up several flights of stairs and along many corridors into the deep heart of the monastery, until we reached a large room. An altar was set up at one end, covered in softly glowing candles, and the echo of chanting gave everything a slight eeriness.

The monk didn't stop until we had reached the altar, which I now noticed held a dark wooden box. He stopped just in front of it, but made no move to open it. Instead, he turned to face Sark and me. "Before you learn the second half of the prophecy, there is something I must ask you." He said.

I looked at him suspiciously, but nodded. I was willing to listen, at least. "Are you going to stop him?" the monk asked.

He was direct. I'll give him that. Wary of his allegiance, I nodded my assent. Yes, I would do everything within my power to stop the Covenant and whoever else bringing Rambaldi's prophecy true. The monk smiled. "Good." He said. "I had feared that you would try to see it come true. But together, nothing will stand in your way."

I shot a glance at Sark and found he was watching the monk with a wary expression very similar to mine – but there was also a sense of recognition about it, like he had known something more about this. It went beyond his assertions that we had been destined to work together, but perhaps…maybe I was being silly, but what if Sark was convinced we were destined to work together because he had seen it, like I had seen Isabella's memories? Stranger things had happened to me…often.

"You have the second half of the prophecy?" he asked the monk as I watched.

The monk nodded and opened the wooden box on the altar. Inside I could see familiar pages of parchment, yellowed with age, much like the original ones I had stolen for Sloane…and then the CIA. "Do you have the liquid to read them?" the monk asked.

Sark nodded and drew a vial of clear liquid out of his jacket. "Here." He passed the vial to the monk, who took out the pages of the prophecy and then carefully sprinkled the liquid over them.

"Thank you for honouring me." The monk said, with a slight bow in our direction.

"Honouring you?" I asked.

He nodded. "I had never thought that I would be present when the prophecy was read." He said. "I have guarded it all my life, but I never thought I would ever know what was written on the pages."

I raised my eyebrows at his explanation, but said nothing. I could understand where he was coming from. Moving closer to Sark, who had shifted so he stood at the altar in front of the spread pages, I peered over his shoulder as wiry script began to appear. "So?" I asked him.

"The woman here depicted shall also possess a saviour, a man destined to save her from darkness. A tormented soul, his one chance at redemption shall lie in her hands. But for her destiny to be fulfilled, this woman shall have to make the choice to destroy his soul, for only then shall my plans be completed." Sark intoned the words.

The words surrounded two pictures…two faces. Mine and Sark's.

"Well, I always knew you'd be the one to kill me, Sydney." Sark said with a wry smile, but it did not match the sadness in his eyes.

"No!" the monk said. "You cannot kill him! If you kill him Milo Rambaldi will win!"

Looking at Sark, I considered it. If Rambaldi would win with Sark's death, then I would do anything in my power to keep the son-of-a-bitch alive, no matter my thoughts about him. Although, considering I had voluntarily decided to work with him, perhaps I didn't dislike him that much. There was a slightly vulnerable expression in Sark's eyes that threw me for a second, however. So I answered straight from the heart.

"I'm not going to kill you Sark." I said softly.

The monk smiled and seemed about to say something, when the sound of gunfire exploded around the quiet peace of the monastery. The monk looked scared for a moment, but seemed to gain control of it quite quickly. "You must go." He said tersely.

I nodded as a burst of answering gunfire sounded. "The Covenant." I muttered.

"The CIA." Sark added.

We shared a look, before I began to gather the prophecy up as fast as I could. Beside me, Sark slid out his satellite phone and dialled the chopper that brought up halfway up the mountain. "We need a pickup." He snapped quickly. "Now."

He hung up and looked at me. "We need to get around to the other side of that face. Otherwise we'll miss our ride."

I grimaced slightly at his poor attempt at humour and shoved the now leather-bound prophecy into my jacket to keep it secure. "Which way?" I asked him.

With a smirk, Sark said, "You could try the door."

I glared back. "Thanks." I snapped. "That's so helpful!"

We ran to the door and Sark drew his gun as we peered out, but it appeared that the Covenant and the CIA had not got this far into the monastery yet. From the sounds of gunfire, however, they were close. "Go right." The monk said, appearing at my elbow. "Follow the passage. It will lead to another garden. That will take you to the other side of the mountain."

Sark nodded and slipped out, but I turned back to the monk. "Thank you." I said. "For everything."

He smiled slightly, and bowed his head. "Please stop the prophecy. Do not let evil triumph."

I nodded. "I won't." I promised him.

"Sydney!" Sark hissed.

With a final look at the man who had spent his entire life guarding the second half of Rambaldi's prophecy, I ran past Sark and down the corridor the monk had told me to take. With a frown, Sark followed, but thankfully didn't object. Keeping a wary eye out for gunfire and the people wielding those guns, we burst out into another garden about five minutes later.

This garden was like the first, full of now-extinct plants and I immediately headed towards the gate in the wall at the back. Sark was only a step behind me, when men in black burst out from the monastery behind us. "Stop!" one of them bellowed, before opening fire.

Sark and I dashed into the trees, still heading towards the gate. The men in black followed and I cursed. My breathing was already laboured because of the altitude and I had no idea how much longer I could keep this up. I drew my gun and returned fire as one of the men got too close for comfort.

"Sydney!" Sark hissed from the gate.

Nodding, I sprinted past him, just as he detonated some sort of explosive, causing the wall to crumble and block the way out with an enormous roar. Even running away from it as I was, the explosion still shoved me forwards and I felt hot air on my back. I staggered a little, falling forwards onto my hands. Sark grabbed one of my arms and jerked me to my feet, just as bullets slammed into the ground where I had been. It seemed as if someone had gained a high position to shoot from.

Still panting heavily, Sark and I ran until we had turned most of the corner, before I had to slow to a walk. I just couldn't run anymore! "Wh…where's the… chopper?" I asked Sark between breaths.

Just as I asked the question, I heard the dull beats of rotors in the air and the helicopter swung into view around one of the nearby peaks. I had to smile. I just wanted to get off this freezing mountain! The chopper landed and Sark and I scrambled aboard, just as more men with guns rounded the face and shot at us.

I darted to the side so they didn't have a clear shot, before returning fire as the chopper took off. I couldn't see anyone I recognised amongst them, so I assumed these were Covenant men. It didn't really matter though, I reflected with a grin, I had the prophecy and they didn't!

Sark looked over at me, panting from the exertions at high altitude but not appearing to be injured. "Are you alright?" he yelled over the noise.

"Yeah." I nodded. "You?"

"Fine." He replied.

I gave him a final small smile, before sinking down to rest a little while. Thankfully, now was not the time or the place for an in depth discussion on just what the prophecy meant, but something told me as soon as we were safe…man, that was not a conversation I was looking forward to!

To Be Continued…