A scream jarred him from his dreamless sleep. He practically leapt off the couch. Sydney! He dashed up the stairs but slowed to a walk as he drew closer to their bedroom. He carefully opened the door. Sydney was sitting at the desk, but his eyes were drawn to the window. She had cut the ties to the shades. So she must have seen the swing set.

Sydney stood up from the chair. Sark walked to stand behind her. She looked at the swing set, then at him. You remember don't you? A look of confusion crossed her face and she sat back down. He knelt beside her and covered her hands with his. She looked into his eyes. Love, please remember. His fingers hesitantly touched her face and could tell she had been crying. This must be like a prison to her.

His heart jumped a little when she brought her hand up to his. Sark looked towards the door. I've got to get her out of here. Take her to the swing. If that cursed woman is gone. He had no way of knowing. They would just have to be sneaky.Grabbing her other hand, he pulled his wife to her feet. She resisted but he hissed "Unless you enjoy being confined to this room, come with me."

"Ok." She agreed. Sydney may have forgotten me, but she's still on top of her game.

He led her down the hallway but stopped suddenly, motioning with his hand for her to do the same. Irina's voice could be heard below. Damn, she's still here. She was having a heated conversation with someone. Jack! Damn it! He leaned partially over the railing.

"Call me if she leaves." Sark heard Jack say, then he left. Sark then heard Irina walking back into the kitchen. Good. Stay there. He took Sydney's hand again and they crept down stairs. Quietly he took her into the side room that overlooked the lawn. Sark turned to close the door behind him. As soon as he did, Sydney bolted for the door that led onto the deck outside.

No! He dashed after her. "Sydney! Stop!"

She paused by the swing set. Yes, yes, remember, just stay here. But then she raced for the gate that opened out into the street as Sark ran onto the deck. Throwing aside a chair he reached the gate just in time to see her running down the street. "Sydney!" He yelled again in vain. Stupid! Why didn't you see that coming? He slammed the gate shut and looked back to the house.

There she was, Irina sitting by the window, an enigmatic smile on her face. Sark growled and stormed back up the stairs to the deck and back into the house. He banged the door open and walked into the kitchen.

"You knew that would happen." He accused.

"Yes." She simply replied.

"Then why did you let it happen?" Sark roared.

Irina shrugged slightly. "You wouldn't have believed me."

Sark slumped against the wall, defeated. "What do I do now?"

It was as if Irina had been waiting for those very words. "Jack is waiting by the fountains." She was all business now. "I suggest you find her before he does."


Sark raced down the main street that led to the river, looking for any sign of his wife. But the further and faster he drove, the more he lost hope. She was gone again, maybe in the hands of Jack, maybe in the hospital again. He reached the parking garage across the fountains and parked, resting his head on the steering wheel. But not for long. What am I doing?! Sark jumped out of the car and raced across the street.

There she was, sitting by the fountains, smiling at the children and looking down at her watch. Sark looked at his own. Two o'clock. Then he remembered Irina's words. Jack is here somewhere. He scanned the crowd as at the same time, hid in it from the notoriously watchful eyes of his father-in-law.

When he was finally convinced he hadn't been spotted by Jack, Sark cautiously approached Sydney from the side. He didn't want to scare her, but neither did he want her to run away again. Sark slid very carefully onto the bench beside her. She didn't seem to notice him. "Syd," He spoke quietly. "You're a little early."

To his surprise and delight, she turned quite calmly and replied, grinning, "And you're very late."

Sark returned her grin with one of his own. "Well." He said slyly, moving closer, "I know of this place we could go to while we wait."

"Julian," She used my name. "We can't leave now. We'll miss him. C'mon, let's look around the carnival. We'll have to bring Brandon back here tomorrow." Standing up, she took his hand and went to pull him up from the park bench.

Sark remained seated but kept a firm grip on Sydney's outstretched hand. "Sydney, you need to come home." Don't run. Not now. Please. I need you.

"But Brandon--" She cut off and he could see the transformation, the wild look enter her beautiful eyes.

"What are you doing here? Where's my son? What did you do to my son?!" Her voice shook into a scream.

Sark wouldn't let go of her hand. "Syd, Sydney, please. He's not coming yet! Syd, you've got to remember!" But it was clear nothing was registering. He had to get her home before she made a scene. Before Jack found him. Sark jumped to his feet and grabbed her to him, covering her mouth and whispering in her ear. Play the enemy. "I have Brandon, and if you want to see him again, you do exactly as I tell you." Please Love, forgive me. That seemed to do the trick, he felt her muscles relax and gradually she stopped struggling.

"That's better. Now if you would do me the honor of coming with me-" She started to mumble. "Without" He emphasized, "Disturbing this crowd, I'll tell you how to see Brandon again."

Carefully he dropped the hand covering her mouth. "Okay." She agreed shirking off his other arm. "But I swear to you, if you hurt him..."

Sark raised his hand, cutting her off. "Sydney I assure you, I have not harmed your son in any way."

They crossed the street and into the parking lot where he had left his car. He opened the passenger door for Sydney, ignoring her glare as she sat down. Sark backed out, and began the drive leading up to their house, noticing that his wife said not a word. Should I say something? He glanced over to where she still sat silent. "I assure you I'll explain everything once we get to th- your house. I think that would be the best place for you to be, considering?"

He was about to speak again when she broke her silence. "Who put you up to this? Why now? And why my son?

Sark was quiet for a moment. His first inclination was simply not to respond. But that might make her worse. "I think you'll understand once we arrive."


The minutes that passed as they drove up the hills that overlooked the city were agonizing. But finally they reached the drive that led to their house. Sydney began to shift as they pulled into the garage.

"Sydney," He cautioned. "If you run, my men will find you. They always do. So do yourself and your son a favor and remain here." When he was satisfied that she wouldn't try to get out, he left the car and entered the house and went straight to the kitchen. No Irina. Thank God. He turned back to the garage. Please be there. He paused by the door, collected himself and opened it, walking back to the car.

She was there. He noticed she hadn't even unbuckled the seatbelt. Sark walked round to her door and opened it without expression. Slowly, Sydney clicked the belt open and stepped out to move past him. Sark swiftly blocked her, pressuring her arm very lightly. "Sydney, don't say I didn't warn you. They will find you."

She nodded and he allowed her to walk into the house unescorted. Once inside, Sark closed the door behind him, locking it swiftly. For a few moments, Sydney stood, looking around. Does she remember any of this? But she apparently did, for she headed toward the kitchen without seeming to wander. He followed her, wanting to see what she might do next. Sydney looked back at him with annoyance.

"Are you going to watch me the entire time or can I have some privacy?" She snapped.

He inclined his head, and left in the direction of the den. Not too far away, but not too close. He walked around the room for a few minutes, trying to decide his next course of action. He knew he was tired, but he couldn't, wouldn't allow himself to fall asleep. No. Sitting was not an option. Watching anything was out of the question. Too loud. So he continued his pacing.

Minutes dragged on. The couch was looking more and more tempting. He was about to give in, when Sydney appeared at the door, tears streaking down her face.

"Just tell me what you want." She sobbed. "I just want my son back. Please." I just want you back. "Julian," She started. Sark held up his hand. "I-" She tried again.

You're so close Love. "Sydney," He began, "Would you show me his room?" She's softening up, maybe she'll let me in at last. To his relief, she nodded, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand.

"It's upstairs. This way." She pointed up to the stairs across the hall. Sark let his wife lead him upstairs and down the hallway to their son's room. He stopped at the doorway, watching her explore the room, picking up a toy here or there, touching a book on a shelf. "He was so excited to get this bed." She said, almost to herself, lovingly touching the comforter.

"I remember." Sark replied softly.

She turned around. "Yes." She spoke quietly. "You were there, weren't you?"

"I was."

"Julian," Her lip trembled as new tears welled up in her brown eyes. "What's wrong with me?"

God, I didn't expect that. He rushed to her side and she buried her head into his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her. I miss you so much. "Syd? Sydney, it was the accident, remember? Do remember?"

"No!" She wailed. "I don't! I can't!"

"It's okay, shh." He rocked her gently, resting his head on hers. I've been blaming all this on her! It's not her fault. I can't keep pushing her. "It's okay, you don't have to."

She looked up at him. "But I have to! I have to remember you! I can't forget! Not again! Not again!"

Sark bit his lip, thinking of what to do next. This was certainly a turn for the best. "C'mere," He took her by the hand and led her down the hall to their room. But when they reached the door, Sydney held back.

"What are you doing?" There was a hint of fear in her voice.

"Love, don't be scared." He soothed. "You need to rest. "He smiled at this. "I need to rest. Chasing you all over takes its toll, even on me. Besides, I owe you an apology."

This seemed to have the desired effect on his wife, because she smiled back at him. "I think I do too. If I remember correctly... I punched you in the face."

Sark barked out a laugh in response. "Don't feel bad about that, the sentiment was returned." Worry creased his forehead. "If you remember that, do you remember asking me why you were here?"

"I remember..." She paused. "I remembered the rose garden, but it was different. I didn't know you, I remembered only the garden."

Sark gently squeezed her hand, and they entered the bedroom. He kissed her forehead. "Lay down."

She let out a sigh as she sat down onto the bed. He sat next to her and ever so slowly, pushed her down so she was looking up at him. She was smiling, and when she raised to arms up to his neck, he tossed aside all worries and kissed her deeply.

They continued as she unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it down off his arms and discarding it onto the floor. Sark let her soft hands explore his back as he trailed kisses down to the hollow of her neck. "Sark" She whispered as he pulled her over on top of him. But she didn't complete her sentence as he had returned his lips to hers. He stroked her rich, brown hair as she ran her hands through his spiky blond.

Sydney leaned back into the pillows, putting a hand over Sark's mouth. "Tell me how this started. I mean, we're married!" She glanced down at the ring on her left hand. "We have a son. We're not enemies, I'm not CIA. Tell me so I can remember, I want to. Even if I forget, just, just tell me. Please."

Sark sat up against the pillows. She laid her head down upon his chest as he began. "Well for starters, you are still CIA."