back to who i was

this is the first post of my entry for the missing two years challenge. i hope you like it.


prologue

brainwashed? no way. sydney refused to be brainwashed. she refused to let go of herself. but she had no other way. she did not want to live anymore. she did not want to let the covenant break her, but she was so sick of the way they forced her to live, of eating food that was more like sewage, complying with the brainwashing process. so she pretended to become julia thorne. she did not like it, but she pretended. how could she not slip into what they wanted her to be? it became was she wanted to be. cold. calm. stoic. a murderer.

story

simon was hot. she was the first to admit that. he was very good-looking. he had a sexy accent, he was tall, strong. but lately she had gotten tired of him. she figured it was because she was actually julia thorne. she hated it, but she knew she was.
she went by julia with pleasure now. she cringed when she heard the name sydney. and though she hated, despised, loathed, admitting it, she had grown to like the kill. she had grown to love it. she hadn’t stabbed anyone since her “test.” she didn’t like stabbing people, but she could do anything with a gun. she was best with the sniper rifle, but give her something with bullets and she could kill anyone she had to. she never killed innocents, simon didn’t trust her enough to put her into that. he may be f***ing her every night and day, but he wasn’t completely sure she was on his side. he made she she was killing bad guys, other guys who had killed people. and she always complied, now she even did it happily.
but that wasn’t the point. she realized she was getting bored with simon because she had metamorphisized into julia. julia wasn’t the type of person to stay with one man, no matter how good the sex was. and the sex was good. it was great. she definitely wasn’t bored with that. but she needed something new, fresh, exciting. what was it? who was it?
***
“julian sark,” simon grinned. “haven’t seen you in a while.”
“miss me?” sark smirked.
“well of course,” julia walked up and wrapped her arms around simon.
julia,” sark sneered.
julia knew that sark had known her as sydney. she could never forget it; his arrogant, cocky ways, his smirks, his british accent, his ice blue eyes, his idea that they were destined to work together. now it looked like they would be working together. why else would sark have shown up at the club?
“so where have you been sarkie?” julia asked, calling him sarkie just to get a rise out of him.
“cia custody. sydney bristow and agent yawn got me sent there,” sark replied.
julia cringed inwardly but didn’t show it on the outside.
“and you got out…?” simon cut into the conversation, looking at sark angrily.
“long story. never mind that now. what do you need me for?” sark saw simon’s look and changed the direction of the conversation.
“i need you to go undercover with julia. i would, but the people would recognize me,” simon explained. “it’s adelina torres. we think she’s working with sloane to help him recover rambaldi artifacts. you two will go in as people who own a something of rambadli’s and are interested in selling it. if you accept, you’ll leave tomorrow afternoon.”
the mention of sloane made julia’s blood boil. she still hated him. but she wiped the thought from her head and waited for sark’s reply.
“no need to ask why she would recognize you, i remember the stories,” sark smirked with a glance at julia. “i need some more information before i agree. you know i haven’t ever even seen this julia work.”
julia scoffed at him. she knew he was just being the cocky ass that sark was. he knew she worked well, he was just trying to get a rise. it was the same thing he had done with the stories comment.
“julian, please,” simon said. “let’s head back to the penthouse and overlook the mission, shall we?”
simon stood and offered julia his arm. she took it and grinned seductively. she glanced at sark. his eyes had lost their playful flare and were back to being cold and emotionless. she smiled to herself.
***
“bloody hell simon you can drive!” sark exclaimed as he got out of his car.
“it wasn’t simon,” julia said.
sark grinned. “i see.”
julia locked the lexus sc 430 and followed simon inside. sark was right behind them. julia ran her hand across simon’s stomach and kissed him passionately as soon as they were inside the elevator. sark rolled his eyes but let it be. she’s just as irritating as julia as she was as sydney he thought.
simon and julia spent the entire elevator ride giggling and kissing each other. they knew sark probably wasn’t very happy about it. that was why they were doing it. they both knew sark had been attracted to julia, even when she was sydney.
the elevator bell dinged and the trio stepped off onto the top floor. the penthouse. “only the best” simon would always say. and the penthouse was the best. it was huge. when you first walked in you were standing between the enormous living room and the kitchen. the living room had a black leather couch with a glass coffee table in front of it. there was a plasma tv on the wall and a black leather chair to match the couch. blood red pillows decorated the sofa and chair. about two feet from the ceiling, a shelf ran across the wall of the living room. it was filled with random shot glasses collected from various foreign places. off of the living room was a deck looking over london.
the kitchen had granite countertops and stainless steel appliances. there was a counter between the kitchen and living room which had stainless steel stools with no backs. to the left of the doorway was the dining room. the table and chairs were dark mahogany. to the right of the door was a hall that led to an office, two bedrooms, a bathroom, and the master bed/bath. the entire penthouse was black or dark, with red or silver accents. the floors were hardwood covered extensively with rugs. abstract paintings lined the walls; most were mirko cavali’s. they were swirls of color, both dark and light, vibrant and subtle.
julia made herself comfortable on the couch as simon left the room to get the mission information. sark stood at the edge of the living room, as though there were a boundary between him and julia.
“i don’t bite,” julia broke the silence.
“that’s not what i’ve heard from simon,” sark smirked.
“julian take a seat,” simon said, re-entering before julia had a chance to snap back at sark.
sark did as he was told. he sat in the chair across from julia. simon sat next to her and set multiple manilla folders on the table. he took two and handed julia one and sark one.
the front page inside was a picture of a beautiful woman. she had big brown eyes and long straight brown hair. her lips were curved into a mischievious smile. she really was lovely. julia wondered about “the stories” sark had commented on. she wasn’t jealous, she just wondered.
“that’s torres. we don’t have any pictures of her with sloane, but it has been heard that she is working with him,” simon explained. “the next picture is her home. it’s on the south western coast of spain.”
the house was a castle really. huge, stone, ivy crawling up the walls. it was beautiful but looked like a place where ghost-stories came true.
“so who are we?” sark asked, leaving through the file.
“it’s in the back. you are frances davidson and samantha harper,” simon began.
“frances? you gave me the name frances?” sark interrupted.
simon just grinned. “you are two people who are very…experimental, with life and things in it. you got sick of the rambaldi artifact and are looking to sell it.”
“by experimental you mean pot-smoking, boozers who f*** anything that moves?” julia rolled her eyes.
“anything good-looking that moves,” simon had a mischevious gleam in his eye.
sark chuckled. “does that include each other?”
simon suddenly looked angry. “no.” he didn’t just say it, it was more a growled command. simon had never been jealous before and julia had to stop herself from giggling at him.
sark, however, continued to look at simon, smirking. simon was giving sark a death glare, but sark was just looking at him and smirking. cocky son of a b****. julia thought. even if simon’s jealousy is funny, it is totally unwarranted, at least when it comes to sark.
“do you have outfits or do i have to go shopping?” julia broke the silence.
“i have a bunch of outfits that you can try and we will see which ones work,” simon suggested, breaking his glare at sark to look at julia.
“now?”
“sure.” simon stood and walked to the bedroom. he returned with to armfuls of clothes on hangers. “sark there are a bunch of clothes in the closet of the room first door on the left.”
sark left to grab his clothes. julia pulled her black sleeveless shirt over her head and took a shirt from simon. she put it on. it was a loose dark purple long sleeve shirt.
“that doesn’t work,” sark said, walking back into the room with his clothes.
“i agree,” julia said and took it off.
sark couldn’t help but look. she was wearing a black lacey bra and her breasts were filling it to capacity. simon stepped into sark’s line of vision and handed julia another shirt.
“try this.”
while simon was trying to obstruct sark’s view, his plan didn’t work out. he had handed julia a one-sleeve red shirt. she unbashfully took off her bra, and sark only had to tilt his head slightly for a clear view.
amazing he thought to himself. he had always thought of sydney bristow as gorgeous, julia thorne as well. the fact that she/they were “forbidden fruit” only made it that much better. but now, seeing her, topless but still confident and not at all shy, he was struck with awe. she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. her breasts were round and gorgeous. her stomach was flat. her skin was flawless. he could see that her slender arms were toned with muscle as she pulled the shirt over her head.
even with the shirt on she looked wonderful. it fit her body perfectly. the extra fabric on the one sleeve hung just right over her right shoulder. on the left near the waist there was an extra fabric so it hung down halfway to her knees and there was a diagonal hemline. she pulled on lace up jeans and looked absolutely amazing.
“i think that works,” sark said, taking a deep breath. he couldn’t take his eyes from her.
“me too,” simon was the same.
julia blushed. she normally almost never blushed, but there she was, in a room with two drop dead gorgeous guys who were pretty much drooling over her. she giggled.
“maybe i should have more than one outfit though,” she said. “guys!”
the two snapped out of it.
“yeah that makes sense,” simon said.
“yeah well of course.”
julia smiled to herself as she changed into another outfit. she turned around this time so the guys weren’t staring at her boobs as she changed. instead it was her back; flawlessly beautiful, a few freckles seemed strategically set down in places that just made you want to kiss them. there was one on her left shoulder blade, one just above her right hip. sark and simon connected the freckle dots with their eyes.
julia turned back around. now she was wearing a denim mini skirt and a tank top with a button down shirt over it. she still looked gorgeous and once more sark and simon could not stop staring.
“sark why don’t you try on some clothes?!” julia exclaimed.
again the guys snapped back to the real world.
“if you would stop taking so much time to check me out, maybe we could get some actual work done!” julia sounded angry, but deep down she was happy. who wouldn’t be after rendering julian sark and simon walker speechless and drooling just by the sight of her?
sark began to try on clothes. while julia went for the sexy/cute look, sark picked out all the suits. suave. bad ass. he loved wearing suits. looking professional but still sexy. he loved shooting guns in suits.
he buttoned the last button of a black suit jacket and glanced in the mirror. he caught julia looking at him and smirked.
“see something you like?” he chuckled.
“don’t flatter yourself. your fly is down,” julia replied.
s*** sark said to himself. he zipped it. too busy being cocky to zip your fly for the first time ever he scolded himself for being arrogant.
julia avoided simon’s looks. yes, she had seen something that she liked. sark looked so sexy when he was dressed up. as much as she didn’t like admitting it, he looked fine with a tie and a suit jacket on. but she shook the thought from her head and went on picking outfits.
it wasn’t until one a.m. when all of the outfits and the hair dye had been picked out. they would be staying with torres for a few days, so they couldn’t take their chances with a wig. julia was going to have her hair dyed a blackish maroon. sark was to keep his blonde attempt at curls.
“babe why don’t you get to sleep?” simon suggested.
actually, julia had been thinking about how tired she was, but she hated when simon told her what to do. she shrugged. “i’m going to make myself a drink. anyone want anything?”
“may i make my own?” sark asked.
“don’t see why not.”
sark followed julia into the kitchen. simon stayed in the living room but kept a watchful eye. julia made a tom collins while sark fixed a rum and coke for himself. julia slipped past him back into the living room, making sure there was as much body-to-body contact as possible. sark was gorgeous and everything, but julia was having fun making him writh. she didn’t actually need to have him, teasing him was fun enough. especially with simon watching.
“i think i’m going to have fun on this mission,” julia said, plopping herself on the couch next to simon.
“why?” simon asked.
“there’s going to be a lot of action,” she replied. “no more of this lazing around and sipping alcohol. we’re going to have a good time.”
“i’ll show you a good time,” sark muttered under his breath as he walked back into the room.
“what was that julian?” simon asked.
“i think it will be a good time too,” sark changed his words. “it will be a pleasure to get to work with julia.”
“why, thank you,” julia smiled.
sark met julia’s eyes. they stared at each other; each one refusing to look away. simon placed his hand on julia’s thigh, drawing both julia and sark’s eyes to it. julia was happy about it, while sark had a cold look in his eyes.
“i wish i could work with you babe,” simon’s hand began roaming up her thigh as he spoke. “i can’t even be in madrid when you are there. for one, a business deal in germany. plus, i can’t run the risk of anyone seeing me.”
simon’s hand had run past julia’s ****y and reached the top of her jeans. he unbuttoned the button and unzipped the fly, continuing to talk.
“you know how much fun we have working together,” his eyes were burning holes in hers. “remember that time in new york?”
“mmmm,” was julia’s only response as simon’s hand slipped under her pants and underwear.
sark was sitting across the room, staring and drinking. there was a fire in his eyes and his jaw was visibly clenched. but the other two were too involved to notice.
“won’t you miss me on this mission?” simon asked, his fingers tracing the slit where julia’s outer lips came together.
“yes,” she breathed heavily.
simon pushed through her outer lips. julia moaned slightly. sark stood. julia opened her eyes and watched him as he walked to the kitchen to refill his drink.
“maybe he should – ” she began to say to simon.
“i want him to watch,” simon cut in.
normally julia would have refused, but simon’s fingers had found her clit.
“oh, god,” she whispered as sark re-entered the room.
he stayed standing. finally he took one last swig of his drink and threw it to the table. simon glared at him as he left the penthouse. as soon as the door slammed simon leapt off the couch.
“that bastard. look, he cracked one of my glasses!” he exclaimed.
“excuse me? you didn’t just want sark to watch, that was the only reason you were doing that? i’m glad you think about me,” julia replied.
“please! you know very well that you were teasing sark with all your might, probably not with me in your head. so stop being a hypocrite,” simon snapped. “and if you truly do want sark, go right ahead. no reason why i should stand in your way.”
“if that’s how you see it then fine! maybe i will just love this mission more than anything other. not the kind of action i was thinking of, but it works,” julia said.
she stormed away, leaving simon with half a rum and coke spilled over the living room and a broken glass in his hand.
how could he? julia thought in her bedroom. who does he think he is? he thinks he can just do whatever he wants to me and i don’t need to have a say.
julia had her own bedroom, though lately she had been sharing the master with simon. but now she was in her own room. she had stormed in and slammed the door shut. she was simply pacing, back and forth and back and forth. thinking.
i may have been teasing sark but simon actually was in my head as i was doing it! she thought. maybe i should get with sark just for the hell of it. that would really piss simon off. his girlfriend f***s his childhood best friend. why not? simon’s getting boring anyway. sark is new. sark is different, interesting. simon just has his same old ways. same drink, same smoke, same walk. of course sark has that same sarcasm, same style, same smirk.
julia debated back and forth in her mind. she hated simon for simply using her to anger sark, but she wasn’t sure she had a real interest in sark to begin with. she sat on her bed, head in her hands. she didn’t want to be mad at simon. but she was certain she wasn’t going to be the one to apologize. he was in the wrong, and he was the one who would have to be sorry for it.

m-c
 
part ii

the next afternoon, julia was on the plane. she had barely spoken to simon the entire day, and now was trying to avoid a conversation with sark, who was sitting across from her.
“so, you have fun last night?” sark asked bitterly.
“no,” julia said simply.
sark’s eyebrows rose slightly. “no? not good enough?”
“there was nothing to be good enough sark,” julia snapped. “he was just doing it to piss you off. as soon as you left he simply was angry about the broken glass.”
sark sat in silence for a moment. he should not have been surprised. it was just like simon to do something only to anger him. but he was surprised at julia’s anger over the topic. it was something sydney would have been mad about, but julia? he didn’t think so.
“did you kick his ass?” sark chuckled.
“no. i yelled at him and he yelled at me. it’s just a stupid fight,” julia sighed.
sark gave her a look. his face said was she clearly knew “this is not you.” she knew, she was not supposed to care, not supposed to be sad over something like it. it was a sydney thing to do.
but she brushed the thought out of her head and put on headphones as she read through the mission break-down one last time.
***
“welcome,” adelina torres was waiting on her steps as they drove up. “john will take your bags. let me fix you something to drink.”
julia looked at sark. she was strangely nice. fake nice. julia didn’t like it. fake nice never went over well.
“what would you like? anything special?” torres asked from the kitchen.
julia glanced to sark. he shrugged.
“a rum and coke please,” he requested.
“what is that all you drink?” julia whispered. adding to torres, “i’ll just have a water.”
sark and julia scanned the room, memorizing everything. torres quickly returned with the drinks.
“why don’t you have your drinks and then we’ll get you settled? dinner will be at eight,” torres said.
julia gulped down her water. “can i see my room?”
“oh, um, you two aren’t sharing a bedroom?” torres asked.
julia looked at sark. she didn’t want to, but if she said no it would be out of character. “well that is fine if that’s how you have it set up.”
“oh good. i’m sorry i just sort of assumed…” she trailed off.
“if that’s not the way you want it, it’s not the way it has to be,” sark rumbled in a low voice. he grinned seductively and ran his tongue over his teeth.
torres blushed and giggled. julia rolled her eyes. she cleared her throat and torres came back to reality.
“sure you can see the room. stewart will take you to it if you don’t mind. i’ll stay here to entertain mr. davidson,” she said.
“please,” sark moved closer to her on the couch, “call me frances.”
julia scoffed as she followed stewart out of the room and up the stairs. she could still hear torres’s giggles until she reached the bedroom. their luggage was already up there. she nodded to stewart that everything was fine and he left her alone.
it was as though the room was modeled after a hotel room. it had a four poster bed and a mahogany dresser to the left. it had its own bathroom in the back and a walk in closet next to the dresser. there was a couch near the dresser that faced a mini bar. above the bed was a mirror that had to be five feet by five feet at least. it was huge.
julia kicked off her shoes and threw herself onto the bed. glancing at the reflection above her, she pushed sark out of her mind…but all that was left was simon. she knew better, but she picked up the phone on the bedside table.
“hey si. it’s me. i’m – uh – yeah, i’m sorry. i overreacted. i miss you. gimmee a call on my cell or something,” she left a message.
she knew she shoulnd’t have, but she apologized. she did miss him, no matter how boring she thought he had become. she missed his sensual accent, his messy black hair, his arms. she tried to shake him from her head. that was the one trait of sydney bristow that she couldn’t seem to lose as julia thorne. attatchment. she grew attatched to people; lovers, friends. she always became slightly attatched to her partners on missions, even sark. whether the person was a cocky son of a b**** or a sweetheart, she would grow close to them. she didn’t have much of a choice when they had to be on the same plane, in the same car, or sharing the same room.
but she cursed herself for it sometimes. she cursed herself for feeling angry about simon putting on a show for sark, she cursed herself for feeling angry about sark flirting with torres. she tried to make it a julia trait instead of one of sydney’s; she told herself that she got angry because any man she wanted belonged to her. but she knew it was just something from her past of which she couldn’t let go. though she hadn’t thought of vaughn in a long time, he came drifting back into her mind as she locked eyes with her reflection. she missed him. she wished they could go to santa barbara like they had planned. she wondered what he was doing without her. then she cursed him. he was the reason she couldn’t leave attatchment behind as nothing. she had lost his love and now longed for it from others. she knew simon didn’t love her, but in her mind, she tricked herself into things like that, even if it was sub-consciously. julia didn’t need any man, nor anyone to make her who she was. she didn’t need anyone to be happy, to have fun. but sydney did.
god why are you doing this?! she screamed inside her head. drop it. so you may think about it sometimes but not now. you shouldn’t anyway. you’re trained to compartmentalize so do it! don’t care about vaughn, about simon, about sark. they’re all worthless anyway. what did you do with them that you couldn’t have done on your own?…well with simon there was more than one thing you couldn’t have done by yourself. but i don’t think those things are appropriate to share….
julia giggled to herself. she thought of the first time they had had sex. it was not making love, no where near it. it was the first week of working with him. he was hot. he had an accent. he was strong. he was all-out sexy. on the sixth day she was with him alone for the first time. they were in the house and no one would be home for hours. as he was discussing some mission they were supposed to carry out in two weeks’ time, she leapt across the couch at him. he barely even seemed surprised. it had been amazing. there was so much passion, so much fire between the two of them. she thought of when they were caught by cops on the side of the road. she laughed when she remembered the look on the officer’s face as he walked up to the driver’s window. julia was on top, stradling simon who was sitting with his chair in the lowest position it could go. after a moment of ecstasy, simon rolled the window down like instructed, julia still on top of him. he looked out at the officer and grinned as she rolled back into her seat.
“was that as good for you as it was for me?” he laughed to the cop.
suddenly the door to the bedroom flung open, pulling julia back to the present. sark was actually whistling as he shut the door and went to open his suitcase.
“you have fun?” julia asked, sitting up in the bed.
sark smirked. “you jealous?”
“don’t flatter yourself. by the way, your fly’s down again.”
s***! sark yelled at himself. second time in a row.
julia chuckled to herself and he zipped up. he was no longer whistling.
“so, what’s ms. torres like? do you have some stories of your own now?” julia asked.
“why talk of my stories? what about simon’s? they’re good stories you know,” sark tempted her.
no attatchment julia thought to herself. “fine. let’s hear them.”
sark stared at her. from the expectant look on her face he knew nothing he could say would make her angry or sad. he shrugged it off and continued unpacking. julia was proud of herself; she always loved out-doing sark.
“dinner was at eight, she said?” julia glanced at the clock.
“yes.”
it was seven forty-five. julia climbed off the bed and joined sark in unpacking. they were both silent; sark slightly angry that she was able to out-do him, julia content with not having to deal with sark’s sarcasm and smirks.
“are you going to be sleeping in this room?” julia asked as she closed the last drawer.
“why wouldn’t i?”
“well i thought you might be busy making stories. but if you are sleeping here, you’ll take the couch.”
it was no where near a request. it was a simple stated fact. sark chuckled.
“no, love, i won’t. i have no problem sleeping in the same bed as you. so if you do, it will be you on the couch,” he smirked.
julia glared at him. any other man would have crumbled at her stare, but sark just stood there and smirked. oh how she hated him sometimes.
“dinner’s in five. should we head down?” sark asked, offering his arm.
julia rolled her eyes. “go ahead, i’ll be down in a second.”
sark nodded and left the room. julia had an idea. she had had a lot of fun torturing sark at the penthouse, even if it did end up pissing simon off. but if sark was going to be his cocky son of a b**** self, julia could find no reason why she couldn’t make him just as mad as he made her. but she had a different way of doing it.
julia planned to be as sexual as was humanly possible. she was going to wear the skankiest clothes, tempting sark with her cleavage or her low-riding pants. she was going to put on her favorite perfume and let it do its trick. she was going to flirt as much as possible. she was going to torture sark, always leave him wanting more.
julia smiled to herself as she got fixed up for dinner. she put on a low cut black shirt and tight jeans. she was thinking about wearing her hooker boots but thought better of it. leaving a few curls hanging out, she pulled her hair into a loose ponytail. dark eye makeup, bright red lipstick and a quick spray of perfume and she was ready to go.
when julia walked into the dining room, sark was dazzling torres with some story of a hiking trip in the rockies where he came face to face with a mountain lion. he glanced at her as she took a seat across from him, and his story paused. it wasn’t that she was the most beautiful creature on earth this time, it was that she was the sexiest. just the sight of her gave him a hard-on.
“now that everyone is here, we can start dinner,” torres said, pretending not to notice sark staring at julia.
a group of waiters brought out the meal on silver platters. the food was wonderful and the wine was exqusite.
“so you have an artifact you wish to sell?” torres asked.
“let’s not talk business at our first dinner. tell us about yourself,” julia smiled sweetly.
torres sighed. “what do you want to know?”
“where did you grow up? what was your family like? how did you get this house?” julia replied. “i don’t know about frances, but i need to know a little about you before i even think of selling something to you.”
torres didn’t look happy, but she began the story of her life. julia pretended to be enthralled, all the while she was working her plan on sark. it began with just her foot playfully tapping at his. but soon she had slipped off her sandals and slid her foot so far up his pant leg that she could count the change in his pocket with her toes. sark was breathing heavily and trying to focus on his food. julia felt his phone vibrate as someone called him. she pulled her foot out of his pants.
“excuse me but i have to take this,” he said.
“and i need to freshen up,” julia also left the table.
she stood in the shadows as sark was on the phone. as soon as he hung it up she stepped out.
“samantha, what are you doing here?” sark asked in character. he glared at her.
“i was hoping i’d be doing you here,” she replied.
she sauntered up to him and slid her hand down his pants to take the place of her foot. he gasped and arched his hips toward her as she began to stroke his c***.
“i don’t understand the transformation,” he whispered into her ear. “you couldn’t stand me before dinner and now…”
his moan was sufficient enough to end the sentence.
“oh please, you know i have always been attracted to you,” julia replied. “i was trying to ignore my feelings and act as though i hated you. i just couldn’t do it anymore.”
“who knew julia thorne was so easy to break?”
“i’m possesive. if you think i’m going to let this skank torres have you, you are sadly mistaken,” she nibbled on his ear lobe.
suddenly she pulled her hand from his pants and walked back to the dining room. he just stood, catching his breath, staring after her.
***
“hey si,” julia giggled as she picked up her cell phone.
she flopped herself onto the bed, happy to have it to herself while sark was out of the room.
“hi,” simon said. he didn’t sound happy.
“what’s the matter?”
“look, i understand that you are sorry but that fight meant something. obviously we are both getting tired of each other. i think we should just take a break, give each other some distance. if we stay like this, even the sex is going to become boring,” he replied.
julia was silent…“what?”
“come on. it’s not a big deal. it’s just distance,” simon said. “i have to go.”
he hung up. julia stayed on the line until the tape played “if you’d like to make a call, please hang up and try again.”
she hung up. she was blown away at simon’s words. before the fight the night before, he had been wrapped around her finger. he would have done anything for her. now they were on a break? she didn’t understand. tears began to form in her eyes. stop it stop it stop it. that’s a sydney thing to do. who cares? so you don’t have simon. you can still have fun teasing sark. come on. stop crying she tried to persuade herself.
“what the hell?” sark burst into the room “what in god’s name were you doing at dinner?”
she looked up at him with her big brown eyes. “could you please just wait to yell at me tomorrow?”
he looked at her. she broke the eye contact and looked at her feet. he sat on the edge of the bed and put his hand on hers.
“what happened?”
he sounded so sincere, so trustworthy, so caring. it wasn’t his standard arrogant tone. she tried to blink back the tears and told him.
“simon thinks we need distance,” she said so softly it almost came out as a whisper.
“are you joking?!” sark jumped from the bed. “what the hell is he thinking? how could he dump you?”
julia smiled at sark, even though her eyes were still filled with unshed tears.
“i’m not kidding,” sark continued. “he’s lucky enough to get you for three months and he thinks he can just toss you off like you are nothing? he’s insane. how could he give up something so perfect?”
julia couldn’t tell if sark was being sincere or just trying to get a chance to f*** her. whether he was trying to or not, julia was determined he was going to be f***ing her. she grabbed his tie and yanked his lips to hers. it was a passionate kiss. a duel of the tongues. but in the middle of it, sark pulled away.
“i’m not doing this if it’s just going to be comfort sex,” he said.
“excuse me?”
“if all i get is this one time because you’re depressed about simon, i don’t want it,” he repeated.
“please. you’re going to f*** me, and you’re going to like it. it doesn’t matter if it’s just this one time of if it’s every night,” julia commanded.
sark’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “make me.”
“i’d love to.”
julia flipped him over onto his back so she was on top of him. she didn’t care if it was just comfort sex. sark was hot, sark had been nice even if it wasn’t sincere, now she was turned on, she was going to f*** him.
she swooped down and began to kiss him again. his hands roamed over her body. suddenly she pulled away and pulled her shirt over her head. she used it as a rope and tied his hands to the headboard.
“no,” he tried to resist.
“i thought i was making you,” julia grinned.
sark sighed and stopped tugging at the shirt.
“mr. frances davidson, i think you have something that i want,” julia giggled.
“i swear i don’t,” sark replied.
“i think i’ll have to frisk you.”
“be gentle,” he begged.
she ran her hands over every inch of his body. left arm, left side, left leg, right arm, right side, right leg, chest, abs, dick. his erection was pushed into his pants.
“well well well. it seems as though i may have found it,” julia beamed.
sark gave a hard pull at the shirt, and the knot came undone. he rotated positions so he was on top of julia.
“i’m supposed to be making you,” she said.
“you’re making me cum if that’s what you mean,” he grinned.
she went to work unbuttoning his armani shirt as he kissed, sucked, tasted and even bit at her neck.
“who cares about the shirt? get me out of these pants!” sark demanded.
but julia took the time to undo the last of his buttons and pull the shirt off. she took a breath and moved more delicately when it came to the pants.
“oh now you’re just being mean,” sark whined.
julia slithered out of his arms and took the button of his pants in her mouth. she unbuttoned and unzipped his pants only using her tongue. sark loved it and did the same to her. with both of their pants off, all that was left in their way was the underwear. julia pulled hers off and then yanked sark’s to his ankles. a rock solid c*** sprang forth.
“is that what you were looking for?” sark chuckled.
“that…and your tongue,” julia replied.
“which would you like first?”
julia pushed his head toward her shaven ****y. he quickly went to work. julia arched her hips into him and pressed his head to her, running her fingers through his blonde hair.
“oh sa-frances,” she caught herself. “dear god.”
suddenly “dirt off your shoulders” began to play. sark pulled his head from her grip and reached to the bedside table. it was his phone.
“yes?” he answered it.
julia was breathing heavily and pledging to kill whoever was on the phone.
“yes i’m with her right now,” sark said. “okay.”
sark stood and walked into the bathroom. julia’s jaw dropped in disbelieving angry. she got off the bed and sat next to the closed door of the bathroom, listening to one-side of the conversation. what are you five? you are listening through a door, she scoffed to herself but continued listening.
“what the hell were you thinking?” sark’s voice sounded angry…“you can’t seriously believe that. i mean you had julia!”…“i always thought people were full of s*** when they said someone was incapable of love, but you are, aren’t you?”…“don’t turn this around on me. this is about you throwing away the one good thing you have had in your life since you were a teen!”
julia smiled. she had to admit, she had always been slightly atracted to sark. but sometimes he could be such a cocky son of a b**** that she wanted to kill him. never before had she heard him defending a woman, talking of love, sounding like a man even sydney would like. julia leaned her head against the door and continued to listen to the conversation.
“look si, i have stood by your side since you were fifteen years old! and never once have you made me doubt your judgement until now.”…“no this isn’t about me having feelings for her! it’s about the fact that she was good for you. you know very well she still has some sydney bristow in her. not only was that good for you, it was good for everyone around her.”
the conversation trailed on. julia got too tired to listen anymore and changed into a nightgown. it was 100% cotton, her comfort nightgown. she climbed into the four poster bed with the lights still on. sark’s voice was still drifting angrily from the bathroom. juila smiled to herself once more. maybe he’s not the cocky unfeeling sarcastic smirking british son of a b**** that i thought he was, she thought. or maybe he’s just not the unfeeling part.
julia was on the edge of sleep when sark emerged from the bathroom. he put on boxers and sat next to her on the bed. julia pretended to be asleep.
“he doesn’t understand what he has ruined,” sark whispered, brushing a curl of her dyed hair behind her ear.
sark turned off the lights and climbed into bed next to her.
the relationship of the two had changed so drastically within the day, neither of them really understood it. but they both knew they couldn’t be thinking about it. they were on a mission, and determined to carry it out.

m-c
 
part iii

“samantha where have you been?” torres asked at breakfast the next morning.
“i went out for a run. had to clear my head,” julia replied, trying not to look at sark.
“sit. frances was just going to explain how you two met,” torres had that fake smile on her face again and julia didn’t trust her. “have some melon.”
she did as she was told; sat down, ate breakfast. she pretended to know the story that sark told, even cut in to tell her own part of the story.
“she was seventeen. i was fifteen. she was in my poetry class. i worshipped her. she was two years older and this goddess with – at the time – jet black wavy hair, porcelian skin and brown eyes that you just drowned in,” sark explained.
“the teacher made us write a poem about someone in the class and let them read it on the last day of school. we were told it had to be a nice poem. you know, no ‘you’re an ugly *h**e’ or anything like that,” julia interrupted. “he wrote me a love poem.”
“you are my ocean. beautiful and unpredictable. you are my wave. always in motion and full of energy. you are my rainforest. exotic and exciting. you are my tree. strong and tall. you are my sky. endless and indestructible. you are my sun. lighting the day and leaving darkness when you’re gone. you are my star. something to reach for yet seemingly impossible to get. you are my everything,” sark recited it as though he had known the poem for his entire life. “i was so nervous when she read it. my palms were sweating and i couldn’t stop my toe from tapping. after she finished she filed it into a binder and put it away, not even looking at me. i couldn’t believe it. i had pledged my love to her and she wasn’t even going to say anything?”
“what could i have said? i was seventeen and graduating from high school. i couldn’t get involved with some fifteen year old who had fallen in love with me,” julia cut in. “so i didn’t say anything. i wanted to be independent and the day after graduation i left town. three days later, i was eating lunch at a café in london and frances walks up.”
“if you think that i can throw my heart at you and not even get so much as a pity smile in return you are wrong, i demanded,” sark took over the story again. “she took a drink out of her straw and pushed the chair across the table from her out. i sat down and we had lunch. we’ve been best friends ever since.”
“i can’t believe you still remember the poem,” torres said. “that’s so cute.”
“normally i would take time to fawn over it with you, but we have business to take care of,” julia stopped the story-telling charade.
“is that such a pressing matter? you give me the price and i will buy the artifact,” torres replied.
“we have other buyers,” julia informed her.
“who?”
“arvin sloane.”
julia was taking a chance with that and if it didn’t work, the mission could be compromised. but it did.
“that’s impossible,” torres took the bait. “arvin sloane is my partner. as soon as i collect the artifact he is coming out here.”
“really?” sark asked. “is there any chance he may be double crossing you?”
“no!” she exlcaimed. “he trusts me enough to store all of his rambaldi artifacts in this house.”
jackpot julia and sark locked eyes with the same thought.
torres realized she had said to much. “if you’ll excuse me, i need to go call my partner.”
she left the breakfast table in a rush. sark and sydney quickly followed suit, heading to their bedroom.
“this is gold!” julia exclaimed. “we have to call simon.”
“i know what he will want us to do,” sark sighed. “he’ll send in back up and we’ll hold the house. he’ll keep it until he needs something from sloane, if he doesn’t already. it’s a bargaining chip.”
“but we could catch sloane. we could – ” julia began.
“julia you aren’t sydney anymore. this isn’t the bloody cia. simon has no interest in taking out sloane at the moment, he’s not competition. sloane has contacts and simon can’t risk killing him for no reason,” sark cut in.
“for no reason. sark you know – ” she started again.
“yes sloane deserves to die slowly and painfully. but simon doesn’t see it that way. that’s not the way simon lives. that’s not the way you are supposed to be living julia. that’s the way sydney lived. that’s the way jack lives. that’s the way agent yawn lived,” sark said.
julia hadn’t realized how much of sydney was left inside of her. she sighed and put her head in her hands.
“well then call simon to send people in,” she muttered hatefully.
sark paused. “he doesn’t have any hold on you, you know?”
“what?”
“there’s nothing he can do to keep you with him,” sark tried to explain.
“since when have you become so kind? so interested in my well-being? where’s the sarcastic ***hole you used to be? what makes me so special that i can change you?” julia snapped.
“what makes you so special?” he scoffed. “you’re beautiful and unpredictable. you are always moving, full of energy. you are exciting and exotic, strong and tall. you’re endless and indesturctible. you bring light wherever you go. you are something to reach for but never to be able to catch. jesus julia. i wasn’t always this way, you know? and i’m not incapable of love.”
“so what? now you’re saying that you love me?”
“i didn’t say that!” sark exclaimed. “simon changed me even more so than he changed you. and maybe i want to change back.”
“well i don’t want to be sydney anymore. i don’t want to live her life anymore!” julia yelled.
“who would, with that agent yawn around?” he chuckled.
“how can you just flop back and forth between the old you and the changed you? one minute you are kind and the next you are criticizing my choice in men?”
“so you, julia, chose agent yawn?” sark had caught her. she knew she was still sydney.
julia sat on the bed, her head in her hands, thinking. sark was leaning on the couch, waiting for any response.
“god i just want to shoot something,” julia broke the silence.
“i could find agent yawn if you wish,” sark smirked.
julia shot him a cold look but he continued to smirk.
“i thought you wanted to change back to the person you were before you met simon,” she said.
“oh i was still a cocky son of a b****. i just had other feelings too,” sark smiled.
the two sat in silence for a few minutes. neither of them were thinking about the mission or what torres must be thinking if she went back to breakfast and they had disappeared.
“let’s get out of here,” sark suggested.
“what?”
“if i want to change back, i can’t do it and still be here, working with simon. i know it’s just this one mission, but i’m not going to do it. my loyalties are flexible,” he chuckled.
“you are just going to leave? and you want me with you?” julia asked.
“i’m begging you. get out while you still can. i know it’s cliched but do it. it’s worth it,” sark said.
“you call that begging? you can beg better than that.”
sark stood and took julia’s face in his hands. he kissed her. it was just as passionate as their first kiss, but it was different. it was beatiful.
“now that’s a pretty good argument,” julia giggled as sark pulled away.
“i know you can change. three days ago you would have rather cut off all of your limbs before kiss me and now look where we are. we don’t need simon. let’s just get out of here.”
sark was sincere. julia looked into those gorgeous blue eyes of his and saw him. him as he was before he met simon. staring into those eyes, she couldn’t say no.
“let’s pack.”
***
julia and sark were on their third day together. they were had traveled through the irish countryside. it was beautiful. julia woke up every morning and watched the sun rise over rolling green hills. but now they were heading into dublin. night had fallen over the city and the sky was black.
sark led the way to the bar of an old friend. it was a nice enough place. there were a few pool tables and dart boards. men sat at the bar or at round tables. cigarette smoke lined the air. spanish lyrics drifted lightly into the air from an old juke box in the back. sark and julia took their seats at the bar.
“a beer. whatever’s the best,” julia said. she was too tired to try to make a decision.
“same,” sark ordered.
the bartendar nodded and grabbed to mugs. he filled them with something from the tap and handed them to the couple, who took them eagerly. julia and sark had been up the entire day. they were both exhausted and wanted nothing more than a quick drink and a place to stay.
“is ritchie around? tell him his old friend julian needs the apartment upstairs for the night,” sark instructed the bartendar.
he nodded and headed off to find ritchie. everyone in the bar seemed the same. it was late, they were tired. they didn’t need a good time, just a comfortable place to be.
the bell rang as someone opened the door. julia glanced up at the new arrival and shook her head. simon. she motioned to sark. he sighed and stood up.
“i’m right here,” he called to simon, who had been surveying the room.
“well hello there double-crossing chap. how’ve you been?” simon asked.
“shut up simon,” julia scoffed.
“stay out of this,” sark demanded. “this is between me and him.”
“should we go outside so i can kill you, or do you want me to do it here?” simon said.
“kill me for what? taking the girl you had tossed to the curb?”
“that’s not what this is about. f*** her for all i care,” he spat at sark.
“i have,” sark smirked.
“i ought to put a bullet in your head right now.”
“are you gonna bark all day little doggie, or are you gonna bite?” sark asked.
the entire bar had become even quieter than it was to begin with. the games of pool and darts stopped as the two men circled around a table, glaring at each other.
“jules, get behind the bar,” sark said.
“aw. ‘jules.’ how sweet,” simon growled.
julia climbed over the bar. she didn’t want to, but she knew that sark and simon weren’t going to behave like gentleman. her arms were trembling she was so nervous about the outcome of the soon-to-be fight. she mouthed along to the lyrics of mas y mas as the song began, trying not to be afraid.
“this truly isn’t about her you know?” simon began. “you can do anything you want with her. the filthy *h**e.”
sark took the bait. he rifled his half full beer bottle at simon, who ducked just in time. the bottle smashed into a barstool. sark flipped the table in between them to its side and lunged at simon. fists began to fly.

vamos queriendo mas y mas
vamos queriendo mas y mas
vamos queriendo mas y mas
may y mas, mas y mas

sark’s first punch landed squarely on simon’s cheek. but simon came back with a blow to the stomach. everyone in the bar had gathered at one side, staying out of harm’s way. they watched the fight like starving dogs looking at a piece of meat. everyone was silent, amazed. julia was behind the bar, only her head visible. even that would have to disappear every once in a while when a bottle came flying at it.

vamos queriendo mas y mas
vamos queriendo mas y mas
vamos queriendo mas y mas
mas y mas, mas y mas, mas y mas
vos va, viene, vos se va, va por debajo va, la vos se va

simon got three quick punches to sark’s face and sark ran into a table. simon came swooping in for another hit, but sark rolled to the side and simon’s jab landed in an ash tray. sark threw simon over the table.
the fight wasn’t a spy-versus-spy fight. it was two guys, decking it out in a bar. no fancy moves, no guns, just fist against fist.
sark punched simon so hard between the eyes that his nose must have broken. simon threw sark off of him. he came flying at him, angrier than before with blood spurting from his nose. he held sark at the neck, pressed against the bar. with one sweep of his hand he broke a beer bottle and held it to sark’s neck.
“sweet jesus!” simon screamed, clutching his right shoulder.
julia was standing behind the bar, gun raised. simon’s blood speckled her face and clothes. she was trembling, unable to move.
“that enough for you simon or you wanna go til death?” sark asked.
simon shook his head and sat down, putting pressure on his wound.
sark jumped over the table and lowered julia’s arms. he took her face in his hands and smiled.
“she’s a little blood-spattered angel,” he said.
he wiped a tear from julia’s cheek. she really was changing.
“let me go talk to simon for a second. we’ll be fine,” he assured her.
julia nodded. sark headed over to simon’s table and sat down. they were both silent for a minute.
“i’m not going to be sorry for being with julia,” sark said. “and i’m not going to be sorry for leaving the mission. you corrupted julia, and she wants to change. i’m helping her with that.”
“how are you supposed to help her, mr. hired assassin?” simon scoffed.
“maybe i’m changing too. i wasn’t always the way you made me. i’m just praying i don’t become agent yawn,” sark replied.
simon smiled at him. it was great, the deep, caring discussions two men could have after just beating the living s*** out of one another.
“still friends?” simon asked.
“yeah. just maybe not as close,” sark shook his hand. “no get outta here. go find someone to fix that for you.”
simon nodded and stood. he glanced at julia and attempted a smile and a wave. she waved back, face expressionless. he chuckled to himself and was out the door.
“you sure you’re okay, love?” sark asked, ignoring the strange looks he was getting from other men in the bar.
julia nodded. “i am now.”
“hey ritch!” sark called.
a man stepped out of the shadows to answer. he had a ghastly scar from under one eye to just above the other and with the shadows on his face, he looked evil. but when he was in the light, his eyes glimmered and he smiled a warm, welcoming smile.
“take the apartment, mate,” he beamed.
“thanks.”
sark escorted julia up the stairs to the apartment above the bar. they left the mess they had caused for someone else to clean up. not worrying about it.
***
sark ran his fingers over julia’s arm. she was so gorgeous. he held her bare shoulder in his hand and kissed her neck. she squirmed underneath his touch. he pulled away.
“i want to go back,” she whispered.
“to simon?” he asked.
“i want to be sydney again. i want to know my father again. i want to know marshall, dixon, weiss – ” she began.
“vaughn,” sark spat bitterly.
julia rolled over to face him and put her hand to his cheek. “no. not vaughn. you know very well that he has nothing on you.”
“and yet you’re running to him.”
“julian, no. don’t say that. don’t even think that. i’m running to me. to my old self. i want to be the way i used to be. to not remember this,” she explained.
“you don’t want to remember this?” sark was visibly hurt.
“julian…” she trailed off. “how will i be able to be good old sydney bristow and fight evil sark, the bad guy, knowing how much he means to me? you know what sydney is like. she fights for what she believes. and if i went back to her with these memories, i would fight to keep you alive. i would fight to not hurt you. i would know you were a good person and fight to keep you that way.”
“i know a man,” sark said. “he can deal with the memory issue.”
“you mean – ”
“don’t make me say it jules. he can handle it,” he cut in.
julia sighed and kissed him. a single droplet of water rolled down her cheek.
“all i can say is thank you,” she tried to keep the tears back.
he wrapped his arms around her, burying her head in his chest. she silently cried into him. her hands ran over every part of his body, memorizing it one last time. she breathed in his scent. she kissed his chest.
“you are my everything,” she whispered.
***
“a two year period is quite extensive,” the doctor said.
“yes. can you do it?” sark asked.
“well i can, but i can’t promise it will be perfect,” he replied.
“you need to do it perfectly,” julia demanded.
“miss i am saying that may not be possible. i will try but there is a small chance for mistake,”the doctor explained.
“give us a moment,” sark said.
the doctor left the room. sark took her hand.
“julian, i can’t have any – ” she began.
“jules. there is only a chance you will remember something. and if you do, is it that so bad?” he sighed.
she bit her lip, determined not to cry. he rubbed the trace of a tear out of his eye.
“you know how i feel about you,” he was breathing heavily. “you may not know that in a little while. you may not know how much i love you, how you are the only woman i ever want to be with, how – ”
“julian just let me do this. if you continue talking i won’t be able to.”
“once more, would that be so bad?” sark said quietly.
julia lost the fight to not crying. the tears fell freely, soaking sark’s shoulder. he knew this was what she had to do. he had cared for sydney bristow in the same way he had cared for julia thorne, his feelings wouldn’t change. yet he hated the fact that he would lose her forever. but no. it was what she needed. if she was ready, he would be.
he tilted her chin toward him and kissed her. it was simple, loving. it told how they felt about losing each other, in not so many words. one more kiss. sark stood.
“doctor jonas,” he called.
“shall we begin?” the doctor asked, re-entering the room.
“we’re ready,” julia said, looking at sark.
sark held tight to julia’s hand. he didn’t want to let her go. he held her hand as she lay herself on the operating table. he held it as her eyes grew heavy. he kissed her one last time, and she was gone.
***
sark stood in the shadows of an alleyway. he watched as sydney woke up, wondering where she was. he followed her and watched her make a phone call. he followed her to the safe house. he watched michael vaughn enter.
sark turned away. she was sydney again. she didn’t remember him. he laughed at himself as he got into his car. he could never change without her. he could never go back to the man he was.
one last glance at the safe house, and he pulled away. cold, calm, stoic.

m-c
 
Oooh...interesting...

She wasn't brainwashed, yet she allowed herself to become Julia for a while...

JuSi is always hot - if only for a little fling ;)

I find it interesting that it was Sark that pulled out the Sydney emotions and ultimately made her realize she wanted her life back and she became Sydney again...

good job!
 
Wow, That was really interesting! I like the fact that you made Sid become Julia of her own want. That is a really great idea!

And I loved..:blush: the Sarkney action! That was fan-frekin-tastic!!

Good job! And, good luck! :smiley:
 
*sigh* m-c I looooooooove the Sarkneyness!!! :love: Sark and Syd are so great 2gether. ^_^

Awesome job!!!

Les
 
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