Figure Eights

amy lynn

The Polish Pirate
Figure Eights
Author: Amy
Disclaimer I'm pretty sure it's been established that I don't own them...
Author's Note:
The third installment in my Maroon 5 series, using the song “Must get Out”
There will be a fourth installment, but that is all - and that is my final answer...so look for one more after this which will conclude the series!
Read these first - it is helpful:
This Love
Hit the Road

I've been the needle and the thread
Weaving figure eights and circles round your head
I try to laugh but cry instead
Patiently wait to hear the words you've never said


Sydney looked over to where Sark was sleeping in his bed, under the black silk sheets. She rolled over to her side, facing away from him. She wondered if she was crazy for being here. When she had left him at the airport, she had meant what she said – she wasn’t ready for something with him. There were so many things wrong with their situation. He knew everything about her yet she still didn’t even know his name. And somehow she kept ending up in his bed.

Her body was still tingling with the aftermath of their lovemaking. She could still feel vividly his lips on hers and the touch of his hands on her skin. He had been so gentle as his lips caressed all over her body. When he had placed his hot mouth on her center, she had felt more pleasure than she had ever known. And when they finally joined together, her body had felt like it was on fire. The explosion of her climax had been incredible.

Already she wanted more, which scared her completely. What did she know about him? The answer was – not a whole lot. His name was Sark, he had blond hair, incredible blue eyes, and he was an apparent terrorist who worked for the highest bidder. He had no known history, no known first name, but here she was in is bed wanting more.

Sark felt the moment she rolled away from him. He had been half-sleeping and waiting for it to happen. It was his fault that she was so uncomfortable every time they were together. Sydney did not know anything about him, but he knew everything about her. Every time he looked in to her eyes, he felt guilty for keeping so much from her, especially what was in his heart. However this was the only way that it could be. One day he would be able to tell her – but today was not that day. Hopefully that day would come soon, until then he could only hope that he could hold on to her.

Sydney Bristow was the one pleasure in his life. She infuriated him, she aroused him, and she was able to keep up with his sarcasm. It was futile to resist, she had invaded his thoughts completely. He had gone from hating her, to hating her but loving her, and now he had wrestled enough with his emotions. He loved her – he just couldn’t tell her.

Fumbling through your dresser door forgot what I was looking for
Try to guide me in the right direction
Making use of all this time
Keeping everything inside
Close my eyes and listen to you cry


Sydney was restless. She sat up in the bed and searched in the dark for something to put on. The only thing she could find was Sark’s shirt, so she picked it up off the top of the bed and buttoned it up. As she got up out of the bed, she tried to make as little noise as possible so she did not wake Sark up in case she decided not to leave.

She went to the French doors that opened up to the balcony outside of his room. As she pushed the door open, she heard a rustle from the direction of the bed. She took a look back to where Sark lay sleeping, and saw that he was lying still after having shifted a bit. She let out her breath in relief – she was not ready for him to come find her.

Sydney went over to the edge of his balcony and let the breeze flow through her hair. She looked out onto the night sky, the moon was shining brightly and the stars speckled the surrounding sky. It was a calm, peaceful night – so opposite from the inner turmoil that she was feeling.

She had so many questions and no answers. Sydney knew that she would not be able to handle this sort of relationship for a long period of time. It would eventually have to end, if she wanted to keep her sanity. As much as she loved him, she couldn’t play these games forever. The problem was that every time she left him, they ended up back together. It was a cycle that was never-ending; like a figure eight.

Sark heard her open the doors to his balcony. He shifted in the bed, unsure whether or not he was going to get up and go to her just yet. The sheets rustled when he shifted and he heard her stop briefly. Sydney obviously wanted to be alone, so he decided not to get up just yet.

As Sark lay silently in bed, he could feel his closed off emotions creating a burning feeling deep inside his chest. But he knew that in keeping everything inside of him, he was keeping Sydney safe from all manner of threats. He had many enemies and few true allies – a hazard of the trade that Sydney knew well. There were countless numbers of people that would jump at the chance to use her to get to him. Sark was not going to allow that to happen.

A few moments later he decided that he had given Sydney enough time alone. If he was going to let her go tonight, he wanted her at least one more time.

I'm lifting you up
I'm letting you down
I'm dancing till dawn
I'm fooling around
I'm not giving up
I'm making your love
This city's made us crazy and we must get out


Sark walked on to the balcony and saw her standing at the edge. The sight of her wearing his shirt was quite possibly the sexiest thing he had ever seen. He leaned on the doorway for a moment, just taking in the sight of her. Looking at her like that made him want her more, if that was even possible. He walked over to where she was standing and wrapped his arms around her waist.

He brought his lips to her hears and began to tease them with his tongue, whispering for her to come back to bed. As her body shivered with desire, he ran one of his hands down her side, down to her thighs, and under the shirt. He brushed his hand slowly up her inner thigh until he reached the area right in between – which was aching for his touch. While he was doing that, he unbuttoned the shirt partially and slipped his other hand in her shirt, and began to tease her breasts, rolling her nipples. Both of these actions caused ripples of desire to flow through her body.

She turned to face him and could see the desire burning in his eyes. It mirrored exactly what she was feeling.

It was then that she realized that while she may not know any specifics about his life, she knew the one most important thing. He wanted her – and he cared about her. He hadn’t said it, but she could feel it.

It may not be enough for a relationship, but it was enough to make her want to try. But they only had one chance to be together – and that was if they left the spy life.

“Can we leave this life?” She asked softly, knowing it was the only way they could possibly stay together.

Sark stared into her deep brown eyes, filled with unshed tears. “I wish that I could,” he answered, regret in his voice, “but what I am doing I cannot stop. I made my decision long ago and I cannot back out now.”

He knew that he was possibly throwing away their only chance to be together forever, but he couldn’t get out. He was in too deep and he could not take her with him either.

She accepted that fact, just as she accepted the hand that he held out, leading her back to his bed.

This not goodbye she said
It is just time for me to rest my head
She does not walk she runs instead
Down these jagged streets and into my bed


By the time they reached his bed, all thoughts of gentle lovemaking were discarded. As it always was with them, once they felt each others skin touch, the frenzied passion began. It was always desperate.

Tonight was no different. Sark ripped her shirt off – not caring about the fact that he was destroying his own Armani shirt – and buttons flew everywhere. He began another assault on her breasts, this time with his mouth. He used his teeth to pull at her nipples, and then used his tongue to lick them as his mouth closed around the tip of her breasts.

Sydney was busy pulling down his boxers, which he kicked off in a smooth motion. Her hands went immediately to wrap around him, which elicited a groan from Sark. Her hands began to pump him – slowly at first, and then faster as his breathing became heavier.

Sark continued at her breasts while his hand also found the center of her desire. His fingers found her clit and began to stroke it insistently, while also plunging two fingers into her – pumping in and out at the same speed as her hands.

Their groans mixed together in simultaneous pleasure. When they could not take anymore torment Sark pulled away from her and she pulled her hands away from him. Less than a second later, he was inside of her, filling her, stroking her, while her walls clenched around his c***.

They came at the same time, her insides exploding around him, his desire filling her.

Sark rolled over and pulled her into his arms, as they both began to calm their breathing. He placed a soft kiss on her lips and they fell asleep.

Fumbling through your dresser door forgot what I was looking for
Try to guide me in the right direction
Making use of all this time
Keeping everything inside
Close my eyes and listen to you cry


Sydney awoke a few hours later, knowing that it was time to go. She pulled her clothes up off the floor and began the process of dressing. Her hands were shaking as she pulled her pants on and buttoned up her own shirt. In the aftermath, she remembered all of her previous questions. Whenever they were together, she didn’t care about what she did or did not know. However every time afterwards, those thoughts came rushing back to haunt her. Who was he?

Sark could tell that she was upset. He was tired of causing her pain, yet he was addicted to her – there was nothing he could do because he was never going to give her up. “I wish I could tell you that one day I would be free. But I can’t leave now and I don’t know if I ever could. I know too much.”

Sydney nodded, understanding completely. She couldn’t leave yet either, she still had so much to do. Her life had been dedicated to bringing down Sloane and the Alliance. But once that was over, she knew that she could leave – but he could not. If he was still around when that happened, he could potentially be in CIA custody for the rest of his life, or possibly executed.

“But I don’t want to let you go,” he continued – hoping that she felt the same.

“I understand. I can’t get out yet. However, one day I will. I don’t want to let you go either,” she answered softly.

“Then stay tonight,” his blue eyes pleaded the way his voice could not.

“I can’t stay tonight. But that doesn’t mean it will be that way forever. I’ll let myself out,” she said softly, not wanting to prolong this goodbye. So she leaned over and kissed him goodbye – the touch of her lips on his brief and bittersweet.

As she made her way through his apartment to the front door, she noticed something curious. Lying on his table with a half drank glass of wine was her letters – every single one of her letters that she left after they had been together. On the top of that pile was her final letter, the longest one. It was stained with tears and spilled wine – and it was wrinkled with obvious frequent reading.

She sat down there and let the tears fall. They fell for their love, their pain, and their uncertain future.

I'm lifting you up
I'm letting you down
I'm dancing till dawn
I'm fooling around
I'm not giving up
I'm making your love
This city's made us crazy and we must get out


Sark could hear her crying from his room. As much as Sydney had wanted to avoid the tearful goodbye, he knew that he could not leave her to cry alone.

He pulled on his black silk boxers and made his way into the kitchen, where he saw her sitting at the table, crying over the sight of her letters.

Sark felt his heart constrict watching her in pain, reliving his own pain. He walked over to her and put his hand gently on her shoulder, shaking her out of her cry.

Sydney quickly wiped her tears away and stood up. The emotional game of push and pull that they played was wearing both of them down. If Sydney was going to hold any hope there was at least one thing she had to know.

“What is your name?” She asked softly – it was the one question that if he answered, she might not give up on them.

Sark looked at her intently, “Julian. My first name is Julian.”

Sydney smiled. “Julian. Do you have a last name, or is it really Sark?”

He smirked at her. “I’ll answer that tomorrow night.”

She didn’t smile back.

He sighed; clearly she wasn’t ready for jokes just yet. “Lazarey was the name of my father, though I hardly knew the man.”

“Where did Sark come from?”

“I’m afraid I really can’t tell you that,” he answered with regret in his voice. He had answered all that he could at the moment. But he doubted that it was quite enough.

With that answer, Sydney looked at him one last time and walked to the door.

There's only so much I can do for you
After all of the things you put me through


“Will you ever tell me?” She whispered as she left.

Sark didn’t have an answer for her.

They were back where they had started that night – stuck in the figure eight and unable to break the cycle.

Authors Note: Number four – the final installment – is already in the planning stages. The song: “Sweetest Goodbye” – and a fitting ending to this series that it has been a joy to write.
 
:thud: Oh. Em. Gee. I don't even have anything to say except WOW. This one is definitely my favorite of the three.

It was all absolutely amazing so rather than quote the whole thing, I'll quote my favorite part:
As she made her way through his apartment to the front door, she noticed something curious. Lying on his table with a half drank glass of wine was her letters – every single one of her letters that she left after they had been together. On the top of that pile was her final letter, the longest one. It was stained with tears and spilled wine – and it was wrinkled with obvious frequent reading.

She sad down there and let the tears fall. They fell for their love, their pain, and their uncertain future.
Sark felt his heart constrict watching her in pain, reliving his own pain. He walked over to her and put his hand gently on her shoulder, shaking her out of her cry.
:( I couldn't help but cry at this part. *Sniff-sniff*

"Must Get Out" was perfect for this... all the songs you've used for each installment have been perfect! I absolutely cannot wait for the final installment!
 
Oh, that was lovely, Amy. I have to agree with Joyie and the others. All of your Maroon 5 song fics are wonderful, but this was my fav so far.

She had so many questions and no answers. Sydney knew that she would not be able to handle this sort of relationship for a long period of time. It would eventually have to end, if she wanted to keep her sanity. As much as she loved him, she couldn’t play these games forever. The problem was that every time she left him, they ended up back together. It was a cycle that was never-ending; like a figure eight.
The IS the Sarkney relationship. You described it so perfectly; I'm so envious. :D

He sighed; clearly she wasn’t ready for jokes just yet. “Lazarey was the name of my father, though I hardly knew the man.”

“Where did Sark come from?”

“I’m afraid I really can’t tell you that,” he answered with regret in his voice. He had answered all that he could at the moment. But he doubted that it was quite enough.

With that answer, Sydney looked at him one last time and walked to the door.
LOVE this scene. You set up the ending so well, I want to read more. And there's only one left... :(

But great work on this part. Great descriptions, great smut, great everything. Can't wait for the next part.
 
tears...seriously tears. they came to my eyes. i can't stand it! it's just too good...
omg only one more installment?! no no no!
 
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