I Know

hotpot

The Bubbly
Title: I Know
Author: Suzi aka hotpot
Rating: R – for language, innuendo and thematic revenge and scheming
Continuation: Going back to the beginning – this is the prequel to Say Goodbye.
Summary: What could Sydney have possibly done to make Sark treat her that way in Say Goodbye?
Disclaimer: Blah, blah – characters aren’t mine and neither is the song used. It’s ‘I Know” by Fiona Apple. Such a pretty song :::dreamy sigh:::

A/N: Going back to where it started, finally got this thing to flow somewhat well. I am a little anxious about this one ... :thinking: I do mean it when I say feedback makes my day so it is always greatly appreciated. Must give thanks to Envinyatar15 at SD-1 for inspiring the thought of a prequel ^_^


~~I Know~~

So be it, I’m your crowbar
If that’s what I am so far
Until you get out of this mess
And I will pretend


Sydney is on his mind. As he lays sprawled out in his bed, the crisp linen sheet snuggly wrapped around him, his thoughts wander off to her as they have every night when there is no task at hand but the emptiness of a evening stretching out before him. He thinks of the first time his eyes fell upon her, in that lounge in Paris when he was setting up Khasinau. He will not deny his first impression had been unkind. All he noticed then was the ridiculous red wig and heavy-handed make-up but it would not be his final impression of her. No, that would come soon enough.

He moves his hand to his cheek, slightly rough from short stubble gracing his face. He remembers her touch on him, the way it sent ripples of pleasure up his spine and how it appeared to be nothing to her. A sure sign of things to come, he muses now. From Sydney’s first touch on him, he knew she created a demon within him. Her touch would be his addiction, like heroin to a common junkie; he craved the feel of her hands on him and marveled as to the lengths he would go to get it.

He remembers Siberia. The six-inch scar running a clean course just above his left kneecap seems to throb from the memory. It had been from her touch as well. No sexy story to reflect on with that battle wound but it was from her hand nonetheless. It is a constant reminder to him what happens when fire meets with ice. The way he looks at him and Sydney, her fiery passion for all things right in the world and his cold demeanor towards them and all the things in between. All the fighting between the two of them, he mocked her with her goodness knowing what he saw inside of her. She still was in denial, but she was the child of Irina Derevko. Stubborn to a fault, but he knew she would come around. He just didn’t expect it to be so soon.

That I don’t know of your sins
Until you are ready to confess
But all the time, all the time
I’ll know, I’ll know


The first time she came to him was surprising. He remembers being by the stove, trying not to burn his supper when he heard a knock at the door. The look on her face when he opened the door made him think his time on this earth would be short-lived but indeed it was the opposite. A warning passed across her lips, he thinks now, one that he should have paid more attention to.

“Just so we are clear, this changes nothing between us. In the morning, I am still going to hate you.”

Her lips had crashed onto his, and now in his bed, he brings a hand to his lips suddenly beginning to ache at the memory. She had bit his lips, drawing a small amount of blood but she was not dissuaded from what she had come to do. He remembers her tearing his shirt as he pushed her back against the closed door of his apartment. The way their bodies reacted from the small bites and scratches they placed on one another as well as the way his own body shuddered from her touch when she removed his belt linger in his mind as if it were only hours ago. He took her against the door then, bunching her skirt up around her waist and not even bothering to remove her panties. What an addict would do to get their fix, Sark was learning it firsthand.

And you can use my skin
To bury secrets in
And I will settle you down
And at my own suggestion,
I will ask no questions


Sleep finally comes to him, enveloping him before he can resist but even in his dreams, Sydney haunts him. He sees flashes of all their illicit rendezvous at his apartment, from the time he f***ed her on his kitchen table to the time they actually made it to his bedroom, the one place he didn’t want her. The bedroom was too personal, someplace he wanted to keep her away from but once she recognized the challenge, she had to accomplish her goal. Still asleep, he begins to struggle at the memory as it plays out before him in his unconscious.

The seduction was extensive that night. She tormented him in the past, bringing him almost to the brink of begging but that would be when he would resume his control. He liked to let her believe she had the upper hand for a little bit before finally taking things over himself, but tonight he had waited too long. Sydney was already too much in control and she knew what she wanted from him. She wanted the bedroom, she wanted the admission, and she wanted to know it was more than just casual f***ing to Sark. She could play it off like that was all it meant to her, but from Sark – she wanted to know it was real.

It hadn’t been easy, but Sydney was up to the feat. She had teased and tormented him almost to the edge of angered frustration, but almost as soon as she gave up, he began to come around. Finally, before she thought she would go mad herself, a single strained word passed his lips, almost inaudible over the sound of her own soft moans.

Please.

He is beginning to stir from his sleep at this memory, but it is still within the reaches of his conscious as he begins to awake. Even when the word has passed his lips, the word she had been waiting for, she did not relent. So again, he said, slightly louder but even more strained.

Sydney, please.

It was all she wanted. The pleasure that followed his simple statement was enough to make him forget his misgivings about letting her into his bed and letting her hear him beg. He had held out so long that he was beginning to believe it was real for her too.

Suddenly, he sits up in his bed. Sweat beading his brow as a deep sigh escapes his lips. He remembers now what he so quickly forgot then, her words, hanging there mocking him in the space left by her absence.

“Just so we are clear, this changes nothing between us. In the morning, I am still going to hate you.”

While I do my thing in the background
But all the time, all the time
I’ll know, I’ll know


He glances over at the clock; the red glow shows that it is nearly 4:00 am. He is not going into SD-6 today, not when she is roaming the office. He cannot face her after last night. Before he recalls the pain from the previous evening, his mind drifts one last time to the happiness he thought he could somehow have with her.

For the first time, they agreed not to meet at his apartment. Her roommate was going out of town; Sydney wanted him to come over to dinner at her place. He showed up with the requisite bottle of wine and allowed himself to be seduced into the possibility of life with Sydney Bristow. Of course, he knew of her double status within SD-6 but he didn’t think for a moment that she would happily continue on with the CIA. There was a power within Sydney, a passion for darker things that she refused to see and a potential for greatness that she would one day capitalize on. With Sark, they would be an unstoppable pair.

He was already getting ahead of himself. He looks back now and sees her continued attempts to domesticate him. Home cooked meals and soft candlelight, but something continued to be wrong with her refusal to admit her own feelings for him. He knew, at one point, there was another man in her life. There was not much to find out about him, Sark had checked into that but someone or something seemed to stay with Sydney.

They were halfway through their dinner, bantering back and forth over the wine he brought when the phone rang. As she answered, the smile in her voice faded to a dry reply as her eyes went to Sark.

“Wrong number.”

As quickly as it had started, dinner had ended. Something suddenly came up and Sark was shooed out the door. His immediate reaction was to follow her. He thinks back now, wondering what made him do it … was it anger? Jealousy? Mistrust? He isn’t sure but he remembers how he felt afterwards, all three and more. A man was waiting for her at the warehouse she drove to and when she stepped out of the car, a smile came to her face. Sark saw it all the way across the deserted parking lot, a smile he once foolishly believed was only for him.

He made it his mission to learn about Michael Vaughn. He was surprised to find he was the one whom the antidote was for, the man she was willing to kill Arvin Sloane for. In that arrangement, Sark saw what he had been waiting to see. A woman who would do anything for a cause she believed in. Initially, he assumed it was because of her hatred for Sloane and now he was disappointed to learn it was for this man.

Michael Vaughn who despite having a live-in girlfriend was still taking the time to dally with Sydney. Vaughn was proving to be a more difficult pursuit than Sark ended up being and in an instant; Sark knew why Sydney wanted Vaughn. He was holding out for her, not letting her have what she wanted which in turn only made her crave it even more. Funny, exactly the way she felt towards Sark in the beginning, before she showed him any attention. The taste of forbidden fruit was what quenched Sydney’s thirst – it had been Sark, but he fell from the tree too easily. Now, there was another man waiting in the wings, one whose promise of an ideal life was a far greater lure for Sydney.

If this was the life Sydney wanted then he was going to let her have it.

So for the time being, I’m being patient
And amidst this bitterness
If you’ll just consider this-even if it don’t make sense
All the time-give it time


As he squeezes a bit of lemon to his tea, he finally allows himself to think back to the night before. Two nights after he had seen her meeting with Vaughn, she had stopped by as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. He was surprised by the emptiness her touch now left on him, it no longer had the same effect when everything he believed about her was tainted. Even so, they fell into bed by accident. Sark had wanted to resist her, to question her as soon as she dared to show up at his apartment but that fell by the wayside as she drew him into her with her sweet kisses and soft words he tried so desperately not hear and take to heart.

As they lay in bed, arms wrapped around one another and almost half asleep, he asked one simple question.

“Tell me, am I one of the only ones who know of your double agent stature?”

It had received the reaction he was thinking it might. A flash of shock before the look of complete horror set in. She wanted answers, how did he know, how long had he known, but he said nothing in return. He couldn’t tell her that he knew her mother was in custody all this time. No, his feelings for her and his true line of work were something separate.

Without warning, she moved out of the bed reaching for her clothes. Hastily pulling on her dark colored t-shirt, she glared at him.

“This has been a mistake. I feel so disgusted with myself for even entertaining the idea that we could...” She paused, not finishing the sentence as she hardened her cold stare further.

“I never want to see you again and if you even think of informing Sloane of my true status with SD-6, you won’t even live long enough to regret it Sark.”

With that, she was gone.

And when the crowd becomes your burden
And you’ve early closed your curtains,
I’ll wait by the backstage door


He sits at his kitchen table, mulling over the turn of events and everything that this could mean for him. Sydney has failed to see her abilities for greatness; Irina is not going to be pleased. Yet, that is not his main concern as he sips his tea slightly burning his tongue. He let Sydney in, never knowing her true feelings for him. He wonders if there were times when she did admit to herself that he could be something for her but it is all meaningless now. She initially played him, anything worth anything would have been worth staying for and she dispelled that belief the moment she walked in his door so many months ago.

“Just so we are clear, this changes nothing between us. In the morning, I am still going to hate you.”

He was hanging onto nothing, a thread of a belief he clung to as if it could be seen as the truth from another angle but in reality, nothing in their line of work was as it appeared to be. Everything between them had been a game. He wanted her to see things in herself the way that he did and she wanted him to see himself in the way that she dared to believe was true. The only difference was that Sydney had achieved what she set out to do; he wasn’t the unfeeling killer she thought she knew. He had gone against his own rules and fallen in love with her. Yet, in doing so, he failed to make her realize the potential that she held in a life with him, not a so-called ‘normal life’ like she only thought she wanted but the only life Sark could offer her.

While you try to find the lines to speak your mind
And pry it open, hoping for an encore
And if it gets too late, for me to wait


He stood up from the table then, sick of thinking about the whole matter. Walking back into the bedroom, he ran a hand over the sheets still tangled up at the foot of his bed, a thought coming to his mind. There is a still a chance for her to see, he thinks. If he could hurt her in the way that she has hurt him, she would understand just as he has. There is no normal life for people like them; they live recklessly, love passionately and die fulfilled with no regrets. They are essentially the same; she just still fails to see it.

He is not sure when she might return, but somehow he knows that she will. When she does, he will be ready for her. If it took loving her to make him see he wasn’t as cold hearted as everyone led him to believe, then hurting her will make her realize she and Sark are not so different. All the black and white in the world does nothing to hide the shades of gray in between, he muses. Sydney is going to see them all for herself.

For you to find you love me, and tell me so
It’s ok, don’t need to say it.

…I know…
 
A prequel!!! Oh, I love it. Seriously, I don't know why you're anxious...it was just lovely. :smiley: It reminds me why I love me some S2 Sark--which I do. And Sark being his atypical manipulative self. Gee, it's no wonder I love him so. ^_^

The song you used was perfect, but I've never heard of it. Is it one of her new ones?

He thinks of the first time his eyes fell upon her, in that lounge in Paris when he was setting up Khasinau. He will not deny his first impression had been unkind.

You know, I always wondered what he thought of her in this scene, all the time he was smirking into his hand. So that was really awesome that you brought that up.

From Sydney’s first touch on him, he knew she created a demon within him. Her touch would be his addiction, like heroin to a common junkie.

What an addict would do to get their fix, Sark was learning it firsthand.

I love how you keep referring to their "relationship" as an addiction. Because it is, in a way. He thinks about her all the time, follows her, just can't get enough... And damn if that isn't HOT.

There was a power within Sydney, a passion for darker things that she refused to see and a potential for greatness that she would one day capitalize on. With Sark, they would be an unstoppable pair.

In literature, the most evil, badass villians were always good guys before they "fell." I think that kind of applies here. She does have a dark side, one she refuses to recognize, mostly. Hopefully, with Sark's help...

Michael Vaughn who despite having a live-in girlfriend was still taking the time to dally with Sydney. Vaughn was proving to be a more difficult pursuit than Sark ended up being and in an instant; Sark knew why Sydney wanted Vaughn. He was holding out for her, not letting her have what she wanted which in turn only made her crave it even more.

Damn you, Vaughn! Stringing Sydney along. Although Sydney is partially at fault, too. When you make a hot, blonde, sexy, dryly sarcastic, British assassin fall for you, you don't just sashay up to your boring handler and start flirting! Bad Sydney! Bad Vaughn!

All the black and white in the world does nothing to hide the shades of gray in between, he muses. Sydney is going to see them all for herself.

I think I may have to read this series all over again, with this prequel in mind. Nice ending!!

Fab job, as always! (y) (y) Thanks for the PM. I love the songfics... Are you going to start a new series now?? :::hints:::
 
Suzi, this was so. damn. good.

He moves his hand to his cheek, slightly rough from short stubble gracing his face. He remembers her touch on him, the way it sent ripples of pleasure up his spine and how it appeared to be nothing to her. A sure sign of things to come, he muses now. From Sydney’s first touch on him, he knew she created a demon within him. Her touch would be his addiction, like heroin to a common junkie; he craved the feel of her hands on him and marveled as to the lengths he would go to get it.

Oh my gosh - I just loved the description of his desire here. It's like a bad habit - that's what he equates his feeling to. That makes him Sark. It's like he doesn't like what she does to him, but she does, and he's addicted. Oh man, I loved it.

Suddenly, he sits up in his bed. Sweat beading his brow as a deep sigh escapes his lips. He remembers now what he so quickly forgot then, her words, hanging there mocking him in the space left by her absence.

“Just so we are clear, this changes nothing between us. In the morning, I am still going to hate you.”
So he begs and she's cold. Yeah - that'd piss a guy like Sark off, especially since he doesn't like or accept his feelings, yet.

As he squeezes a bit of lemon to his tea, he finally allows himself to think back to the night before. Two nights after he had seen her meeting with Vaughn, she had stopped by as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. He was surprised by the emptiness her touch now left on him, it no longer had the same effect when everything he believed about her was tainted. Even so, they fell into bed by accident
*sigh* Such a great description there. I just adore it.

He was hanging onto nothing, a thread of a belief he clung to as if it could be seen as the truth from another angle but in reality, nothing in their line of work was as it appeared to be. Everything between them had been a game. He wanted her to see things in herself the way that he did and she wanted him to see himself in the way that she dared to believe was true. The only difference was that Sydney had achieved what she set out to do; he wasn’t the unfeeling killer she thought she knew. He had gone against his own rules and fallen in love with her. Yet, in doing so, he failed to make her realize the potential that she held in a life with him, not a so-called ‘normal life’ like she only thought she wanted but the only life Sark could offer her.
:thud:

Thats all I have to say about that. Such emotion. It's fantastic.

If it took loving her to make him see he wasn’t as cold hearted as everyone led him to believe, then hurting her will make her realize she and Sark are not so different. All the black and white in the world does nothing to hide the shades of gray in between, he muses. Sydney is going to see them all for herself.
I love how you tied it into 'Say Goodbye' with this line. It was a very natural progression for Sark to go from loving her - to being that cruel to her.

Love love love the song! It was so perfect, and the song is so wonderful

Great job! Thanks for the PM! :flowers:
 
Mmm... just loverly as usual, Suze! ^_^


The taste of forbidden fruit was what quenched Sydney’s thirst – it had been Sark, but he fell from the tree too easily.

I love this metaphor! :smiley: So Sark to be "forbidden fruit." Not Vaughn, tho. :P Eew. :lol:

She initially played him, anything worth anything would have been worth staying for and she dispelled that belief the moment she walked in his door so many months ago.

Ohhh God. -_- Tear! So sad, and so true... I love this line. *sigh*

There is no normal life for people like them; they live recklessly, love passionately and die fulfilled with no regrets. They are essentially the same; she just still fails to see it.

Yess yess yess!!! :woot: So true and I love the way you put it! Sarkney ROCKS!!! :Punkrock:

All the black and white in the world does nothing to hide the shades of gray in between, he muses. Sydney is going to see them all for herself.

Yay! ^_^


Awesome prequel!!! I love this series! :D

Les
 
When you make a hot, blonde, sexy, dryly sarcastic, British assassin fall for you, you don't just sashay up to your boring handler and start flirting!

LMAO DITA! :laughbounce: I love that! :D So true, too. ^_^

Les
 
WOW Suzie....That was sooo good.I love the series and am so glad you wrote a prequal.I love the song you chose for this.
Thanks for the PM.
 
Ohhh - must give my thanks to everyone for reading.

aliaschick820 Thanks - Leslie, the Sarkney Art Goddess made my sig for me :D

Dita I Know is from her second album, When the Pawn... - I really recommend the song. Such a pretty ballad.

This fic seemed so hard for me to write, I didn't know how to make Sark let himself get so wrapped up in Sydney. I liked the idea how her touch was like an addiction because, if you think about it, Sark probably doesn't get much meaningful physical contact so Sydney left quite an impression on him.

And I can't help it, I find myself inexplicably drawn to Dark Sydney. It will never happen on the show (not that they'd let us see it, damn 1 hour wrapup of Julia years) but at least it can happen in fan fic :D

Ah, you made me feel so much better about this prequel. It was so hard to write that I had to stop agonizing over it and just put it up. Thank you for your comments, like I said, they helped immensely.

amy lynn I love that you know this song and love it as much as I do. :D The addiction, like I mentioned above, just seemed to be the one thing that could make Sark crazed. He was tormented by her, but still had to have his fix.

I had these thoughts for this prequel going since before I left school back in May, it just took forever for it to come together and be believable. Thank you so much for your comments, they really helped me feel a lot better about it.

Leslie Hee, Sark is very forbidden fruit. :lol: Mmmmm ... forbidden Sarkie. I'm glad you liked Syd's attitude about it just being sex - her saying that to him upfront was like the only way she could justify her going to him all the time. Silly girl, there is no denying the allure that is Sark. Thank you for reading, I'm glad you liked it :D

sarkfan Thanks, it makes me happy you liked the song I chose :D It makes me so relieved the prequel is being well received, I really was worried about it because it was going back to Syd being wench-y and Sark plotting to hurt her if she came back to him but at least you all knew they were going to have a happy ending :D I'm glad you enjoy reading this series as much as I enjoy writing it. :smiley:
 
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