Author: Kewii
Title: A Changed Man
Based on: Alias
Summary: Sydney is forced to work with Sark to complete a mission for the CIA. But when attraction sets in will she be able to fight how she feels?
Author's notes: A special thanks to Amy lynn, who has been an awesome beta.
And just so you guys know, this story takes place Post-Resurrection, but it's set a bit into the future (roughly 6 months) so that Project SAB47 isn't the centre of Sydney's thoughts.
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"You expect me to do what?" Sydney Bristow practically yelled from her seat in the office of Marcus Dixon.
"Sydney, we need to do this. It won't work without him." Agent Dixon was trying his best to remain calm and rational, but Sydney's anger over her latest assignment was making it difficult to do so.
Sydney argued with him, "Do I need to remind you that he can not be trusted? We finally have him in custody again, and you’re willing to risk it for some mission." She already knew she was going to lose, but she wasn't about to accept this assignment without a fight.
"We are taking special precautions-" started Dixon -- who carefully avoided direct eye contact with Sydney by fiddling with the pencils on his desk -- before he was interrupted.
"Precautions? Against a man who escaped his escorted guard -- on a plane, without any weapons.” Sydney paused, flabbergasted at what she was hearing. "We can do this without him." she finally added. She glanced around the office that Dixon now spent most of his time in and wondered if his time out of the field had affected his decision making.
"No, we can not." Agent Dixon stated, ending his former partner's tirade. "That is the problem. We have no other choice. We choose Sark, or we lose."
"But letting out a known terrorist will endanger our entire operations -- not to mention the whole United States. He's too much of a threat to us." Sydney countered with a hint of resignation.
"We have caught him twice before. If need be, we will catch him again. For now Sydney you will work with him." Dixon pressed his hands together and leaned his forehead on them. He looked like a very stressed man.
"I don't understand why it has to be me." Sydney finally said
"Because you are my best agent. And I need you. And I also know you will do this, as a favour to me. I can count on you to make this work. You know Sark, if anyone can keep him on track, it will be you."
"Fine Dixon. But I want you to know that I am doing this against my better judgement --as a favour to you." Sydney Bristow finally smiled at her old friend. "When do I meet with him?"
"Soon," Dixon replied, "we're still making the final arrangements. I'll let you know when the final briefing will take place."
Sydney stood up and exited the office. Before she left, though, she stood at the door and looked Dixon straight in the eye. "I'm putting my trust in you to protect me - and the CIA."
Dixon nodded his acceptance, his eyes closely following Sydney as she left the office. He prayed that he wasn't making a monumental mistake.
************
Women -- they were always ruining his life. As Julian Sark paced up and down his small, dull cell there was one woman in particular that was frustrating him to no end. That one woman was Sydney Bristow. It was her fault he was here -- again.
He would make sure that she got what she deserved. But first he needed a way out of the damn cell.
As Sark paced, he pictured different forms of revenge in his head, each paired with another method of escaping his prison. Unfortunately he soon found his bitter thoughts being interrupted by the sudden clang that he recognized as an opening jail door.
Sark sat back down on his bench. The position gave him a sense of control, even though most people would take it for a position of weakness. A moment after he heard the door clang open, Jack Bristow appeared at the bars of the small cell.
"I need to talk to you." Jack Bristow stated, in his efficient matter.
Sark appraised him coolly, still not moving from his seat. He declined to answer the CIA agent's request. Sark knew Bristow would talk to him, whether he answered or not.
"The CIA is requesting -" Jack made the word request sound as though Sark had no choice in the matter, Sark wouldn't be surprised to find this was the truth. "- that you accompany one of our agents on a mission. In return the CIA is willing to repay you with a reduction in your sentence."
"A mission?" Sark cocked one of his eyebrows at Jack. "I suppose that you require my contacts for this, otherwise you never would have approached me."
"Part of the deal will demand the use of your contacts." Jack replied indifferently.
"I'm also assuming, that by your presence here, the mission also has some personal significance to you. Perhaps the accompanying agent would be your very own daughter, the always delightful Sydney?" Sark stopped, allowing the thought to sink in. He was almost gleeful with the latest turn of events.
Jack stared at Sark, refusing to blink, clearly trying to express who was in charge. Sark allowed a slight smile to curve his lips. He was enjoying the power struggle that was occurring between the two of them, especially because he knew exactly who was in charge
Jack Bristow decided to get straight to the point. "Are you interested?"
Sark also decided to get to the point. "How much time?"
Bristow paused and looked down at the papers that he had brought with him into the jail. "The CIA is willing to offer you the possibility of parole --if the mission is successful."
"When would I become eligible for parole?" Sark asked.
"You would be required to serve three quarters of the sentence." Jack replied.
Sark sat still for a moment – pretending to mull the idea over his head. It wasn't really necessary, from the moment he had seen a high-ranking agent enter the cell Sark knew what was coming, and he was prepared.
"Remind me, exactly how long am I expected to remain in CIA custody?" Sark asked.
"Currently you are serving a life sentence, though more charges could be pending." Sark could hear the threat in Jack's voice, but he refused to let go that easily.
"And you expect my help, for the possibility of parole? A possibility, that I'm sure, could be easily declined. It hardly appears worth my trouble." Sark started to rise from the sitting position that he had held for the entire conference.
Jack remained silent, he wouldn't answer the question. Of course, Sark had not expected him too.
"I will grant you the privilege of my assistance in this matter -" Sark paused, enjoying the flicker of surprise that flashed on Bristow's face before his stony expression slipped back into place. "But, I will require more than a three year reduction in my prison sentence. And you will provide me with what I wish, because I know that the CIA has no other choice. If you had a choice, you never would have been sent down here."
Jack listened carefully as Sark laid out what he wanted. Fifty minutes later, after some hardball negotiations, the two men had signed the agreement and Jack had left Sark to prepare in his cell.
Sark was more than ready to catch up with some of his old friends.
Title: A Changed Man
Based on: Alias
Summary: Sydney is forced to work with Sark to complete a mission for the CIA. But when attraction sets in will she be able to fight how she feels?
Author's notes: A special thanks to Amy lynn, who has been an awesome beta.
And just so you guys know, this story takes place Post-Resurrection, but it's set a bit into the future (roughly 6 months) so that Project SAB47 isn't the centre of Sydney's thoughts.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"You expect me to do what?" Sydney Bristow practically yelled from her seat in the office of Marcus Dixon.
"Sydney, we need to do this. It won't work without him." Agent Dixon was trying his best to remain calm and rational, but Sydney's anger over her latest assignment was making it difficult to do so.
Sydney argued with him, "Do I need to remind you that he can not be trusted? We finally have him in custody again, and you’re willing to risk it for some mission." She already knew she was going to lose, but she wasn't about to accept this assignment without a fight.
"We are taking special precautions-" started Dixon -- who carefully avoided direct eye contact with Sydney by fiddling with the pencils on his desk -- before he was interrupted.
"Precautions? Against a man who escaped his escorted guard -- on a plane, without any weapons.” Sydney paused, flabbergasted at what she was hearing. "We can do this without him." she finally added. She glanced around the office that Dixon now spent most of his time in and wondered if his time out of the field had affected his decision making.
"No, we can not." Agent Dixon stated, ending his former partner's tirade. "That is the problem. We have no other choice. We choose Sark, or we lose."
"But letting out a known terrorist will endanger our entire operations -- not to mention the whole United States. He's too much of a threat to us." Sydney countered with a hint of resignation.
"We have caught him twice before. If need be, we will catch him again. For now Sydney you will work with him." Dixon pressed his hands together and leaned his forehead on them. He looked like a very stressed man.
"I don't understand why it has to be me." Sydney finally said
"Because you are my best agent. And I need you. And I also know you will do this, as a favour to me. I can count on you to make this work. You know Sark, if anyone can keep him on track, it will be you."
"Fine Dixon. But I want you to know that I am doing this against my better judgement --as a favour to you." Sydney Bristow finally smiled at her old friend. "When do I meet with him?"
"Soon," Dixon replied, "we're still making the final arrangements. I'll let you know when the final briefing will take place."
Sydney stood up and exited the office. Before she left, though, she stood at the door and looked Dixon straight in the eye. "I'm putting my trust in you to protect me - and the CIA."
Dixon nodded his acceptance, his eyes closely following Sydney as she left the office. He prayed that he wasn't making a monumental mistake.
************
Women -- they were always ruining his life. As Julian Sark paced up and down his small, dull cell there was one woman in particular that was frustrating him to no end. That one woman was Sydney Bristow. It was her fault he was here -- again.
He would make sure that she got what she deserved. But first he needed a way out of the damn cell.
As Sark paced, he pictured different forms of revenge in his head, each paired with another method of escaping his prison. Unfortunately he soon found his bitter thoughts being interrupted by the sudden clang that he recognized as an opening jail door.
Sark sat back down on his bench. The position gave him a sense of control, even though most people would take it for a position of weakness. A moment after he heard the door clang open, Jack Bristow appeared at the bars of the small cell.
"I need to talk to you." Jack Bristow stated, in his efficient matter.
Sark appraised him coolly, still not moving from his seat. He declined to answer the CIA agent's request. Sark knew Bristow would talk to him, whether he answered or not.
"The CIA is requesting -" Jack made the word request sound as though Sark had no choice in the matter, Sark wouldn't be surprised to find this was the truth. "- that you accompany one of our agents on a mission. In return the CIA is willing to repay you with a reduction in your sentence."
"A mission?" Sark cocked one of his eyebrows at Jack. "I suppose that you require my contacts for this, otherwise you never would have approached me."
"Part of the deal will demand the use of your contacts." Jack replied indifferently.
"I'm also assuming, that by your presence here, the mission also has some personal significance to you. Perhaps the accompanying agent would be your very own daughter, the always delightful Sydney?" Sark stopped, allowing the thought to sink in. He was almost gleeful with the latest turn of events.
Jack stared at Sark, refusing to blink, clearly trying to express who was in charge. Sark allowed a slight smile to curve his lips. He was enjoying the power struggle that was occurring between the two of them, especially because he knew exactly who was in charge
Jack Bristow decided to get straight to the point. "Are you interested?"
Sark also decided to get to the point. "How much time?"
Bristow paused and looked down at the papers that he had brought with him into the jail. "The CIA is willing to offer you the possibility of parole --if the mission is successful."
"When would I become eligible for parole?" Sark asked.
"You would be required to serve three quarters of the sentence." Jack replied.
Sark sat still for a moment – pretending to mull the idea over his head. It wasn't really necessary, from the moment he had seen a high-ranking agent enter the cell Sark knew what was coming, and he was prepared.
"Remind me, exactly how long am I expected to remain in CIA custody?" Sark asked.
"Currently you are serving a life sentence, though more charges could be pending." Sark could hear the threat in Jack's voice, but he refused to let go that easily.
"And you expect my help, for the possibility of parole? A possibility, that I'm sure, could be easily declined. It hardly appears worth my trouble." Sark started to rise from the sitting position that he had held for the entire conference.
Jack remained silent, he wouldn't answer the question. Of course, Sark had not expected him too.
"I will grant you the privilege of my assistance in this matter -" Sark paused, enjoying the flicker of surprise that flashed on Bristow's face before his stony expression slipped back into place. "But, I will require more than a three year reduction in my prison sentence. And you will provide me with what I wish, because I know that the CIA has no other choice. If you had a choice, you never would have been sent down here."
Jack listened carefully as Sark laid out what he wanted. Fifty minutes later, after some hardball negotiations, the two men had signed the agreement and Jack had left Sark to prepare in his cell.
Sark was more than ready to catch up with some of his old friends.
