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that's my pm list. if you see your name and want to be taken off, or if you don't see your name and want to be put on it, let me know. thanks a mil.

m-c
 
:eek: :eek: :eek: :eek: :eek: :eek: WHY WONT SHE LET HIM SAY I LOVE YOU! (n) that makes me sad i think hes so cute!
:D thanks for making me #1 on the pm list lol i almost jumped outta me shorts when i saw the update! thanks for it!
ooh i loved it nice use of the Green Day song its one of my favorites!
bRoKeN
 
YAY you updated!! And with two chapters!!

Sark woke up with a gun to his head. He yawned and stretched before he opened his eyes and saw the berretta d cougar l aimed between his eyes. He glanced to his right; Sydney wasn’t there. Nervously, he looked past the barrel of the gun to the person holding it.
Geez what everyone loves to wake up to. Well I guess it means he won't sleep in.

“so good to know,” Sark smirked. “Mind if I get out of bed now?”

“This is not a joke,” she snarled.
Oh I love how Sark's so clam about it like its nothing, of course Irina doesn't feel the same way.

“CIA raided the mansion about an hour after we left. John and the crew got almost everything out, only had to destroy a little,” Harris replied, looking up from his eggs at the counter. “No casualties or injuries. John was the only one at the house. He’s still in custody to my knowledge. I assume he’ll contact as soon as he knows it’s safe.”
Its lucky they left when they did! An hour is cutting it close.

Sydney cleared her throat. Sark looked at her.

“no! no way,” he exclaimed. “You’re not—I won’t—just, no.”

“Sark,” she said gently, “I can get the information we need. It’s not going to mean anything, but sex always wins.”
Awww... Sark doesn't want to share.

he ignored the fact that half of his thousand-dollar suit was getting soaked and ruined by bath salts and started kissing her. His face stung from her sadism, but he ignored it. They were kissing hard, water splashing onto the floor, clouds of bubbles sent flying off the edge of the water.
I'm Sark's suit sure doesn't mind.

“Think before you say it,” she cut him off, placing a finger over his lips. “Think of who I am. Think of who you are. Think of the business in which we are both involved. Think of my father. Think of Vaughn. Think of my mother. Do you really want to say it?”

He looked at her incredulously. “Yes.”

That wasn’t the answer she expected. She bent down and kissed him lightly. “Well, don’t.”
Geez woman, you know what he's going to say, just let him say it.


Wonderful chapters!! Hope everything with the beta works out.
 
xxii. masochist, part un
he didn’t say it. she walked away and got ready for bed, leaving him alone in the bathtub. he just sat there. after a few minutes, sydney called to him from the bedroom.
“are you coming to bed?” she asked.
he just sat in the tub.
“yeah,” he said after a little while. “yeah, in a minute.”
sark slowly got out of the bathtub and dried himself off. god you’re an idiot, he thought as he walked back to the bedroom, the towel wrapped around his waist. sydney smiled when he entered. he looked away. you were bloody going to tell her you loved her? why? what the f*** would it accomplish? she’d say she loved you too? like hell. moron.
he pulled boxers on and climbed into bed. sydney leaned over to cuddle, but he pulled away. he turned off the light and rolled over, his back facing sydney, to go to sleep.
he could feel her eyes burning into his back. she was probably pissed off. he told himself he didn’t care. he told himself he couldn’t care.
***
sark woke up to a surprising sensation. sydney was giving him a blow job. slightly different than how irina woke me up the other day, he smirked before looking down at sydney. she was looking up at him. her brown eyes were sad again, but it wasn’t the sadness they had embodied the previous night. it was more of an apology than sadness.
he motioned for her to stop. she pulled away.
“was it not good?” she asked, confused.
“no, no, it was fine. just come here,” he said.
she slid up next to him. he wrapped an arm around her and kissed her head. she snuggled into him, breathing his air. she loved the way he smelled.
“about last night…” sydney broke the silence.
“it was nice,” he said.
“i’m not talking about the nice part,” she supported herself on an elbow and looked him in the eye. “i’m talking about what you were going to say.”
“why?” he asked. “does it really matter? think of who i am. think of who you are. think of the business in which we are both involved.”
“sark—” she began.
“what? i’m just agreeing with what you said last night.”
“who says i wasn’t wrong?”
“i say you weren’t wrong. you weren’t the least bit wrong. you were completely right. that’s what’s so bloody funny about it. i actually thought it meant something. i actually was going to tell you because i thought it might accomplish something,” he explained. “how pathetic is that?”
“it’s not pathetic! that’s what i mean. it’s—”
“it’s pathetic. ask your mother. she agrees with me. love has no place in this life,” he cut in.
they lay in silence, no longer cuddling, no longer even touching. they wouldn’t even look at each other. sark sighed.
“i think you should go back to l.a.,” he said quietly. “your dad needs you. vaughn, whether the arse wants to admit it or not, misses you. marshall, dixon. you brought them to the real cia, now you’re just abandoning them? weiss. i mean, you’ve left all your friends. whether or not it seems like you have any, they all care deeply for you.”
“and what about you?” she asked, shaking her head at him in disbelief. “i’m just supposed to abandon you now? you care deeply for me too. you…you love me. i’m supposed to go back to l.a. now just because we got in a fight?”
“you love everyone in l.a., and they all love you. jack loves you. vaughn in his pathetic little way loves you. dixon loves you. marshall—well marshall loves basically anyone who will talk to him so that’s not much of an accomplishment—but he loves you. dixon, who has been your partner for ever, loves you. and weiss loves you. he’s probably your best friend and you don’t even realise it,” sark explained. “you don’t realise you’ve left everyone who loves you behind. you’ve left everyone you love behind.”
“you’re my f***ing best friend! i realise that!” she exclaimed.
“please sydney,” he shook his head. “i am not. we f***. we do our business together. your friends are at your home. the ones you love are at your home.”
“this is my home! you’re the one i f***ing love! you’re the one who f***ing loves me!” she yelled. “i don’t want to go back to l.a.! i don’t care if we have to live on the run for the rest of our lives, this is where i want to be. right here…is where i want to be.”
he stared at her. “you realise what you just said?”
the corners of her mouth turned up slightly. “i love you.”
she kissed him. he swallowed, forcing his heart to get out of his throat. he smirked at her.
“eh, i guess you’re okay,” he shrugged.
she hit him teasingly. he chuckled as he got out of bed. they got dressed and went to the kitchen together. harris looked at them, a smile on his face.
“oh you guys are up? we thought you were still asleep you were just so quiet.”
sydney blushed.
“yeah, well, she’s a spy, she’s trained to be sneaky,” sark chuckled.
he poured himself a cup of black coffee and added cream and sugar to a cup for sydney. she happily took it and sat at the corner next to harris. irina was sitting at the table, glaring at sark. he ignored her and picked a banana out of the fruit basket.
“we have to find a new office space,” he said, taking a bite out of the banana.
“we can go to my mansion,” irina replied, still glaring at him. “it’s obviously big enough for all of us. anyone you need from your organisation can stay there until you find a new place.”
“yeah…” sark stared into nothingness, thinking. “i have to contact jonas, see if anything’s been happening. see if john has contacted him yet.”
“i’ve already talked to jonas and john hasn’t called. i don’t think he’s out of custody yet,” harris said. “jonas has a friend though, an expert rambaldi analyst. he thinks she might be able to offer some help.”
‘how do we know to trust this analyst?” irina asked.
“irina, i realise that you never trust anyone, but jonas is my guy. not trusting jonas is like not trusting harris, there’s no point. they are on our side. he would not offer help unless he genuinely thought it would give us advantage,” sark explained. “i’ll call him, see what’s up.”
he left the room, dialling jonas’s number on his cell phone.
sydney poured herself a bowl of cheerios.
“where’s your mansion irina?” she asked as she got out a spoon.
“italy,” irina replied coldly, trying not to be part of a conversation.
“god i love italy,” sydney sighed. “have you been there harris?”
“only for business,” he smiled. “the only thing i’ve ever really gotten to experience is irina’s mansion.”
“we should go to venice. you’d love it, i’m sure. i’d just have to show you the little cafes and places that aren’t made for tourists,” she said.
“that’d be nice.”
sydney smiled as she ate her breakfast. she didn’t want to disconnect anymore. she wanted to feel the world around her, and that feeling alone was enough reason to stay.
“get ready,” sark came back into the room. “we’re going to meet jonas’s analyst. i think she can help.”
no one said anything; no one needed to. there was an understanding. if someone said ‘get ready’ or ‘we have to go’, you got ready before you asked questions. there was no time to ask questions before you were ready.
sydney didn’t have much she had to do; she had no files, no computer that was needed. instead she pulled on a black suit jacket, pulled her hair into a ponytail and put on make-up.
sark gathered his things and still had time to stand at the bathroom door, watching as sydney applied mascara, oblivious to his presence.
“you do realise that you look just as bad ass without that?” he asked.
she chuckled. “i don’t think i’m as intimidating.”
“take it from me,” he laughed, “when you come at a guy, make-up or not, and hit him, you’re pretty bloody intimidating.”
“you know that i’m sorry about that,” she turned around with an apologetic look on her face.
“i’m not. little did i know, apparently i’m a masochist too,” he smirked. “plus, it’s not even swollen or bruised enough to notice, just a cut on the inside of my mouth. apparently you’re not as strong as i once suspected.”
“or maybe i just didn’t hit you as hard as i could,” she replied stepping toward him.
“maybe we should find that out tonight,” he looked down at her, grinning.
“maybe we will.”
he leaned down to kiss her but she just walked away, walking with an air of superiority. he chuckled and followed her.
***
“why did you agree to meet on his grounds?” irina asked, annoyed.
“i trust him,” sark said, continuing down the long and winding driveway. “you don’t trust people, i do. i trust him. i am careful, but i trust him. it’s going to be fine.”
she scoffed but didn’t reply. he knew she didn’t approve of the way he did business, but it was his choice. he had more power than she did, so she had no choice but to let him do things the way he wished.
as sark pulled up to the cul-de-sac that ended at steps to a huge mansion, jonas came out the door and down the steps to meet them.
jonas immediately shook sark’s hand. “it’s good to see you are all right sir.”
“thank you jonas,” sark replied. he gestured to the other side of the car. “this is sydney.”
jonas held his breath for a moment as he looked at sydney.
“good to meet you miss,” he said. he lowered his voice so only sark could hear, “she looks just like her mother. how’d you get her to stay?”
“let’s get right to business,” sark suggested, ignoring the question. “shall we?”
jonas nodded. “my analyst is waiting in my office.”
sark, sydney, harris and irina followed jonas inside. they made their way through the high-ceilinged halls to his office.
a woman stood as they entered. almost six feet tall with blonde hair that fell to the bottom of her shoulder blades, she was gorgeous. she dressed casually; wearing jeans and a long-sleeve black button-down.
“sydney, irina, sark, and harris, this is eleanor roosevelt,” jonas introduced them.
“my parents had a strange sense of humour,” she chuckled. she had slight australian accent.
“good to meet you eleanor,” sark took her hand.
“please, call me ella,” she smiled.
he kissed her hand. “good to meet you ella.”
sydney rolled her eyes. ***hole, she thought to herself. trying to make me jealous. idiot.
“it’s a pleasure to meet all of you,” ella said.
“please sit down,” jonas instructed, taking his seat behind his desk.
sark sat in the chair next to ella; harris and sydney shared the couch. irina stood, still slightly suspicious about what was going to happen.
“ella is one of the best rambaldi experts in the world,” jonas got straight to business. “when i told her about the necklace she was off the wall.”
“it’s an amazing artifact,” ella said. “how did you ever get it?”
sark smirked. “well,” he started, “i stole it. took it right from under the museum guards’ noses.”
“they only believed you because i had the gun,” sydney scoffed. “and if we had had more than five minutes without surveillance, i would have gotten it.”
“it doesn’t matter how we got it,” harris cut into the potential fight. “can you help us understand it?”
“without trying to sound arrogant, i’m probably your best shot,” she replied. “i know more about how rambaldi works than most everyone. i can’t give you a yes or no answer on whether i can help you because i won’t know until i get a chance to get at the necklace. but i would die for the chance.”
“has jonas told you about our organisation?” irina asked.
“only a little.”
“that is all you need to know,” she said. “if you work for us you cannot tell anyone anything about us, what we do, nor when where or why we do it. you cannot mention our names at all. you must pretend that we don’t exist, that you have no idea who we are.”
“ms. derevko, i’ve done things like this before. with all due respect, i don’t need you to tell me the rules,” ella said.
irina glared at her.
“what other work have you done?” sark asked.
“other things relating to rambaldi. a clock, a light bulb, an early prototype of a radio, things like that,” she replied. “i can’t wait to help you.”
“we can’t wait to have you,” he grinned.
she blushed slightly at the look on his face and looked away. sydney scoffed.
“i assumed you would want to get into the details at your own place, though you are welcome to stay,” jonas said. “if you want to go back to your mansion, i have an anaesthetic so ella won’t know where she is being taken.”
“are we ready irina?” sark asked.
irina nodded. jonas gave ella two pills, which she took without water.
“that should put her out within a minute,” he said.
“well miss ella, i will see you when you wake up,” sark smiled.
“it was pleasure to meet you,” she replied.
“the pleasure’s all mine,” he said as she nodded off.
“harris, help me carry her to the car,” sark instructed. “take her feet.”
the two men carried ella out of the house and set her lightly in the third row of seats of the car. harris climbed back with her to make sure the ride was not too rough. irina sat in the second row of seats.
“can i drive?” sydney asked.
sark looked at her, a slight smirk on his face. “why?”
“because i want to,” she stated flatly. “can i?”
“don’t see why not.”
he tossed her the keys.
“jonas,” sark smiled, “thank you so much. this should be very helpful. call me if john contacts you all right?”
“of course sir,” jonas nodded. “glad to help.”
“i’ll speak to you soon.”
sark climbed into the passenger’s seat and sydney took off. immediately she was flying, faster even than sark had been driving during their getaway.
“bloody hell woman! what are you doing?” sark exclaimed.
“i wanted to go fast,” she said simply.
“could you maybe slow down so you don’t kill us all?” he asked.
“shut up and let her drive sark,” irina snapped.
sark did as he was told, silently trying to analyse sydney’s face. he realised what she was thinking; she was driving fast for the same reason he used to gallop bareback on lancelot. she was angry and wanted to do something dangerous, something self-destructive. he wished she would take it out on him; that was the real reason he had flirted with ella, so sydney would take out her anger on him. he couldn’t believe how much he loved it when she tried to hurt him. he couldn’t believe what a masochist she had made him.


xxiii. masochist, part deux
“this isn’t about her,” sydney scoffed.
“oh please, it is too!” sark exclaimed, almost laughingly.
she slapped him. he grinned.
***
the previous night: irina’s mansion, italy
“don’t worry,” sark told ella. “we all have to settle in; this place isn’t just new to you. we don’t have to talk business tonight. relax. have some wine.”
ella smiled. “why thank you.”
“my pleasure,” he replied, pouring her a glass.
sydney and irina scoffed almost simultaneously. i guess it’s one thing we have in common sydney thought. we both get pissed off when sark acts like a dumb ass.
“i’m going to bed,” irina stated.
she didn’t bother offering a reason why; she just stalked off. that was what irina did. she didn’t need to explain herself to anyone.
“you know i think i am going to look around. like you said, this is new,” sydney said.
“i know it pretty well. why don’t i show you around?” harris offered.
“sure.”
they headed off together.
“guess it’s just you and me,” sark grinned.
“guess so.”
***
“harris, i have a question,” sydney sighed. “and i really do want you to tell me the truth. is sark being a dumb ass, or is it me?”
harris laughed. “he gets like this sometimes. whenever there’s a beautiful woman, he’s bound to change slightly. with someone like ella, who—no matter how skilled she is in rambaldi—doesn’t seem to have the highest social intelligence, he turns on his faux romance.”
“thanks,” she said. “i was afraid i was jealous, and i didn’t want to be jealous.”
“well i’m sure half the reason he’s flirting with her is to piss you off. i’ve already told you how he gets off on that,” he replied. he paused. “i don’t really know what i was thinking, saying i could give you a tour. this place is so big i need a map. just another living room in another hall with another fireplace. i don’t know where the hell we are.”
“it may just be another living room, but it’s got alcohol,” sydney laughed, waving a beer at him from the bar.
he chuckled and took the beer from her.
***
one hour and too many empty beer bottles later, sydney and harris were smashed.
“is there a—” hic “tv in here that drops out of the—” hic “ceiling like at sark’s?” sydney asked.
harris looked at her, his eyes swirling around in their sockets.
“we can look at all the security cameras. find dirty things going on in the house,” he smiled intoxicatedly.
“see what—” hic “that f*** is up to.”
harris stumbled around the room until he found a remote. sydney giggled in awe as the plasma screen lowered itself out of the ceiling.
“channel five,” harris said.
channel five was bbc news.
“no, no…seven.”
channel seven was the weather.
“uh…” he looked at sydney blankly.
“pick forty-seven. all—” hic “rambaldi-ish.”
sure enough, channel forty-seven was the security cameras.
harris picked the room with sark and ella; making the image cover the entire screen. the security cameras even had sound, so he turned the volume up and they eavesdropped on the conversation.
“my first love would have to be my third grade teacher,” ella was saying. “he was so beautiful and smart and strong. he used to be a firefighter.”
“ugh, that skank,” sydney growled.
puta,” harris said.
“have you ever been so taken with someone—i mean, has anyone ever amazed you so much that just looking at them brings you awe?” sark asked ella, staring at her intently. “you just see them walk down the hall, or see them smile, or hear their voice, or anything, and you just want to hold them. they just become so beautiful and perfect in your eyes.”
ella leaned in close. “yes,” she said quietly.
“oh turn it off!” sydney exclaimed.
harris complied.
“what—” hic “a total moron. she’s—” hic “a *h**e. and he’s an—” hic “idiot. i hate them both,” she said.
harris just stared at her. suddenly she climbed into his lap.
“let’s have sex,” she giggled.
“but i can’t because sark and he—you know—and i would die and life would end and it might be worth it but i don’t know and he would kill me and fire me and everything would suck in general and i can’t because sark.”
sydney continued giggling and kissed his neck.
“come on—” hic “it’ll show them. you’ll be better than—” hic “sark could ever dream of—” hic “being. i promise it’ll be fun.”
he started kissing her back. it was clumsy, uncoordinated, drunk kissing. they missed each other’s mouths; their fingers—attempting to run through the other’s hair—would scratch each other’s ears. but they kept kissing.
sydney pulled her shirt over her head, getting it stuck on her head for a while. she fumbled with the buttons on harris’s shirt but couldn’t get it off. he tried for her bra, but was unable to unclasp it.
“this is silly,” she giggled, collapsing on top of him.
“i’m too tired and pissed to do anything,” harris sighed.
she giggled some more. “you said pissed for drunk. that’s—” hic “funny.”
they laughed together quietly. their breath slowly coincided; deep, heavy breaths. sydney was on top of harris in her bra, his shirt was half un-buttoned. her hands played with his ears. within a few minutes, both of them were fast asleep.
***
“guess it’s just you and me,” sark grinned.
“guess so.”

he smiled and sipped at his wine.
“so how long have you and sydney been together?” ella asked.
“what?”
“how long have you two been together?”
“i don’t know what you mean,” he lied.
“please. she scoffs when you pour me wine; she makes up an excuse to leave so she doesn’t have to be with us. you are obviously just doing this to make her jealous,” she replied. “i figure you are together, and you just like pissing her off.”
“she didn’t make up an excuse; she’s never been here before,” he said truthfully. “and she and her mother get angry at me when i romance an asset.”
“her mother?”
“sydney and irina. mother and daughter,” he explained.
“you’ve got to be kidding.” she paused. “i guess, thinking about it, they did look alike. they were just so distant. i mean, they didn’t talk to each other once.”
“it’s a long story,” sark sighed.
“we have time.”
“i don’t think it’s my place to tell it,” he replied.
“i knew you were with her,” ella smiled.
“what—i have to be dating her because i won’t tell you the details of her family history?” he scoffed. “maybe i’m just more gentlemanly than you think.”
“a true gentleman wouldn’t speak to a lady that way.”
“a true lady wouldn’t be so arrogant,” he said.
she smiled and took a sip of her wine.
“so what do you think about the necklace?” she changed the subject.
“i have no idea,” sark replied. “it’s rambaldi. it’s the last thing i could ever possibly understand. ask irina, ask arvin sloane. they care enough to try to understand.”
“and you don’t?” she asked.
“well, no,” he shrugged. “i just do this because i like the lifestyle. i have become so used to the wine and the food and the women and the cars and the guns. it’s an addiction now. i used to think the reason i had power was because i wasn’t afraid to lose it. but now i am. i don’t now what would happen if i couldn’t live this way. i’m not worried about being captured or beaten or tortured to killed. what i’m worried about is losing everything around me and having to live on the streets, or even just as a normal citizen. i couldn’t handle having a different job. i don’t have any other skills. this is the only thing i’m cut out for.”
“i’m sure you have other skills,” ella said, a mischievous look on her face.
“none that you are going to get used to,” he cut her down.
“excuse me?”
“i’m not having sex with you,” he replied.
“so what’s all this? you kissing my hand when you met me; now having a glass of incredibly expensive wine with me. this is all just show?” she asked.
“you were right. this is all just to piss sydney off,” he said. “i love it when she gets mad.”
“you are such an ass.”
sark looked at her, chuckling slightly in disbelief. “yeah? i mean, of course i am. you are talking to a man who built himself an empire from nothing. of course he is going to be arrogant, c***y. of course he is going to be a dick.”
“don’t expect me to play along with you anymore,” she scoffed.
“don’t get me wrong, i think you’re amazing,” he said. “i mean, look at you. you’re beautiful. you’re intelligent. you’re strong. few women are all of those. you’re unique, anything from ordinary. i just probably shouldn’t sleep with you.”
“well you started with saying you wouldn’t have sex with me. now it’s you ‘probably shouldn’t.’ if we keep talking will your resoluteness to not sleep with me keep lessening?” she smiled.
he shrugged. “maybe so.”
no, he laughed in his head. there’s no way in hell i’m going to sleep with you. but i do need you to play along for just a while longer…
***
about an hour later, sark’s watch beeped. he had connected it to the security system so it would beep when someone pulled up security on a television and when they turned it off. it meant it was time to play.
“so who was your first love?” sark asked.
they had been talking about sex and relationships, so the question didn’t seem too out there. ella thought for a moment.
“my first love would have to be my third grade teacher,” she replied. “he was so beautiful and smart and strong. he used to be a firefighter.”
sark chuckled slightly. he looked at her.
“have you ever been so taken with someone—i mean, has anyone ever amazed you so much that just looking at them brings you awe?” he asked, staring at her intently. “you just see them walk down the hall, or see them smile, or hear their voice, or anything, and you just want to hold them. they just become so beautiful and perfect in your eyes.”
ella leaned in close. “yes,” she said quietly.
he sat for a while, staring into her eyes, their breath on each other. his watch beeped and he pulled back.
“that’s what i have with sydney,” he nodded.
ella scoffed. “using me again huh? what did the watch beeps mean, she had pulled us up on the security monitors?” she rolled her eyes.
“actually yes. and you played your role absolutely perfectly. if you’ll excuse me now, i’m off to bed,” sark smirked. “someone will take you to your room.”
he took his wine glass to the kitchen before heading up to his room.
after he was ready for bed, he checked security. irina was standing at an open window, letting the wind blow through her hair and bite her skin. ella was brushing her teeth in her bathroom, still looking angry. sydney and harris were…
“what?!” sark exclaimed.
they were on top of each other half-naked. anger boiled inside of sark. then he noticed the empty beer cans. he chuckled.
“i made her so angry, she got drunk and almost did harris,” he smirked.
he was happy with himself as he went to bed. his entire reason for flirting with ella was to piss sydney off enough that she would fight with him. he wanted her to be furious. he wanted her cheeks to flush. he wanted to hear her yell. he wanted her fists to leave bruises on his face.
he went to bed tonguing the cut in his mouth from the last time he had made sydney angry.
***
the next morning breakfast was silent. ella was still angry at sark; irina was her standard distant self; and sydney and harris were both embarrassed and hung over. sark observed them all attentively. he was hoping ella would not be mad enough to let her anger take over her desire to work with them. though sark wanted ella not to be too mad, he hoped, as soon as she lost her hang over, that sydney would be livid. her rage was his rapture.
“when do you want to see the necklace?” irina asked ella quietly.
“as soon as we can would be fine. i won’t have any idea how long it will take me until i get a look at it,” she replied. “jonas informed you of the payment?”
“yes,” sark said. ‘it will be taken care of.”
harris finished his breakfast and sighed heavily.
“you want me to call jonas?” he asked sark weakly.
“no, he said he would call if john contacted him, and i know he will call if he hears of anything important. plus, you don’t look up to doing anything at all today,” sark smirked slightly.
“i’m fine sir,” harris lied.
sark chuckled quietly but didn’t reply.
“i’m going to get the necklace prepared,” he announced. “when finished with breakfast, please bring ella.”
irina nodded. “of course.”
sark left the room.
sydney and harris both breathed a little easier, no longer having to try so hard to hide the events of the previous night from sark. they still avoided each other’s eyes, staring intently at their food. waking up together had been extremely awkward. sydney woke up first and, realising where she was, try to climb off without waking up harris. she ended up falling over empty beer bottles, making a racket. harris jumped up. they looked at each other for a moment, then immediately averted their eyes. sydney grabbed her shirt and shuffled to the door, not saying anything. they hadn’t spoken since.
“ready?” ella broke the silence, pushing her empty bowl away from her.
“let’s go,” harris stood.
the group followed irina through a winding maze through hallways and down staircases. eventually they ended up in a plain room; wooden floors, a few bookshelves, and a desk with a chair. sark stood behind the desk, the necklace laid out in front of him.
ella gasped when she saw the necklace. she raced over to examine it.
“amazing,” she whispered. she raised her voice, “i would like to begin working on it immediately. if someone would be so kind as to bring my black bag from my room down here, and then if you could all give me quiet, that would be great.”
sark nodded to harris, who set off for the bag.
“does it live up to your expectations?” sark asked.
he still used a slightly seductive voice, making sydney and irina roll their eyes. ella ignored his tone.
“it’s better than i could ever have imagined,” she said quietly. “it’s…immaculate.”
she continued to look it over until harris came back. when he had returned, ella took sark’s place behind the desk and sat down.
“i’ll find you when i discover something,” she said.
“‘when you do? i like that attitude,” sark smiled.
the three women glared at him; they weren’t happy with his not-so-subtle attempts at being seductive. he stifled a chuckle.
“well, we’ll leave you to it.”
they headed out, letting ella have her quiet as she worked. sark was confident in her abilities.
“this was a good choice,” he announced as they walked back upstairs. “i think we can gain a lot from this.”
“i’ll be in my office,” irina stated. “tell me when it’s done.”
sark nodded. irina went in her own direction; the other three continued on.
“harris, go take some ibuprofen or something. you’ve got such a hang over you look like you are going to die,” sark chuckled.
“i’m not hung over sir,” harris lied defiantly.
“oh shut it. go do whatever you have to to remedy it. having so many people running things for us means we aren’t always busy. i don’t need you at the moment,” sark replied.
harris nodded and headed for the kitchen. sydney kept walking; sark matched her stride for stride, not caring where she was going.

i catalogue these steps now, decisive and intentioned,
precise and patterned specifically to yours.


suddenly she stopped. “why are you following me?”
“you seemed angry. i thought maybe you wanted to talk about it,” sark said.
“there’s nothing to talk about. i’m fine,” she replied, starting off again.
he continued to walk beside her. “you aren’t fine. you’re pissed off at me. i know. you were so pissed off at me you got drunk and almost slept with harris.”
she stopped once more and glared at him.
“were you watching us?!” she exclaimed.
“i check the monitors before i go to bed. you were half-naked and on top of each other. there were empty beer bottles littered everywhere. it was pretty easy to figure out what had happened,” he chuckled.
“why do you think it was because of you? not everything has to revolve around you, you know?”
she began walking again. once more, he stayed beside her.
“you’re pissed off about ella,” he said as she went into her bedroom.
she spun around. “what?”
“you’re mad because i’ve been flirting with her,” he shrugged.
“this isn’t about her,” sydney scoffed.
“oh please, it is too!” sark exclaimed, almost laughingly.
she slapped him. he grinned.
“what, do you think i’d actually go for her?” he chuckled. “you think i’d f*** her?’
sydney ground her teeth together and clenched her fists. “no. i don’t think you would. i think she means nothing to you.”

careful now, you’re so beautiful
when you’ve convinced yourself
that no one else is quite as beautiful.


“i think you’re just doing this to piss me off,” she said.
he grinned as he looked her up and down. the red flush pattered its way onto her cheeks. her fists were so tight they were shaking. it was so easy to make her mad.
“hey, it’s working, isn’t it?”

hey girl, you’ve got a short fuse,
and i’ve got designs on lighting you up,
and setting you off,
and watching you burn for me.


“you like it when i’m mad do you? you like it when i hit you? you f***ing masochist,” she scoffed and threw herself on the bed.
“i love it when you’re mad; i freely admit that,” he replied. “because when you are mad, you are in control, and you are so sexy when you are in control and determined and focused. it’s like when you do a mission. god when i saw you in that club wearing that short, spaghetti-strapped, bright red dress and the flapper-ish black bob, i almost died. you were so focused. you concentrated so hard on the mission, on stealing that disk from some guy who was too enthralled with you to notice. god you were amazing. not only that, you immediately knew i was watching you. you were so aware. then when you came back as evelyn. good god. that yellow top and those lace ups. you blow me away.”
he could almost feel her roll her eyes.
“don’t try to get back on my good side,” she sighed.
“i’m not. i’m just explaining to you that i would so rather be on your bad side,” he smiled slightly.
she didn’t reply. he slipped up next to her on the bed. he breathed in as she did.

i’m talented at breathing, especially exhaling,
so that my chest will rise and fall with yours.


“i seem to remember something about finding out how strong you were,” sark smirked. “see if you could leave more of a bruise than you did with your last slap or something like that. isn’t that right?”
“shut up, i’m not hitting you,” she rolled over, facing away from him.
“i could have my way with you right now if i pleased.”
she turned to him and spat in his face. “rape is not something to joke about.”
he wiped the spit out of his eye and chuckled. “you know very well that it wouldn’t be rape. don’t pretend you don’t want it.”
she scoffed. “god you are such an ***hole!”
“you’re the one who chooses to be here. you’re the one who told me you loved me,” he replied.
“throwing that one in my face are you?”
“yeah,” he smirked, daring her to react.
“i’m not giving in. i’m not going to get angry, and i’m not going to hit you,” she said.
“you’re not angry, huh? then why are your cheeks flushed the way they are when you get mad? why are doing that angry swallow you inherited from your mother? why are you staring at me with such a pissed off look on your face?”
she grabbed him and kissed him hard. she was intoxicating. when she finally came up for air she sighed.
“i was staring at you with such a pissed off look on my face because i hate how you make me so mad but all i want to do is f*** you.”
he smirked. “that’s how i roll.”



please read and review!!!!!!!!!!!

m-c
 
sark woke up to a surprising sensation. sydney was giving him a blow job. slightly different than how irina woke me up the other day, he smirked before looking down at sydney. she was looking up at him. her brown eyes were sad again, but it wasn’t the sadness they had embodied the previous night. it was more of an apology than sadness.
Thats one hell of a way to wake up.

“this is my home! you’re the one i f***ing love! you’re the one who f***ing loves me!” she yelled. “i don’t want to go back to l.a.! i don’t care if we have to live on the run for the rest of our lives, this is where i want to be. right here…is where i want to be.”
he stared at her. “you realise what you just said?”
the corners of her mouth turned up slightly. “i love you.”
Finally she admits it!

“let’s have sex,” she giggled.
“but i can’t because sark and he—you know—and i would die and life would end and it might be worth it but i don’t know and he would kill me and fire me and everything would suck in general and i can’t because sark.”
sydney continued giggling and kissed his neck.
Tehe loved thios scene with the two of them getting drunk.
“none that you are going to get used to,” he cut her down.
“excuse me?”
“i’m not having sex with you,” he replied.
Thank God! He had me a little worried with the ammount of flirting.

“i was staring at you with such a pissed off look on my face because i hate how you make me so mad but all i want to do is f*** you.”
he smirked. “that’s how i roll.”
And he's back int he game.

Wonderful update! Tehe loved Sark trying to make Sydney jealous.
 
:::::DOES A HAPPY LITTLE JIG!!!!:::::woot: wooooooooooooot! ahh my dear lady i loved it again i couldnt help bu smile when i saw the update i was like GAH yes! read straight through it, me mam yelling at me to get off the computer but couldnt help it had to finish! post again soon but ive obtained a new virtue, Patience! woo, thats a deep relief but i cant wait for the next chapter!
Broken :D ;)
 
Woo hoo an update!!! Happy Happy!

WoW! She actually says "I Love you" first :smiley: Go Syd! & not to mention - typical SARK reply :smiley:

“yeah, well, she’s a spy, she’s trained to be sneaky,” sark chuckled.

Hee hee :smiley:


I love how you had Harris and Syd getting drunk :smiley: Harris must really A)Respect Sark or B)Terrified of Sark not to take Syd up on her offer :smiley: (tho I am glad he didn't)


Overall great chappies :smiley: Can't wait to read more!

LateAlias
 
That was pain to read, because lack of capitalizations. And you say you do have beta? Betas fix _all errors_, not just misspellings. Those errors include lack of capitalizations. Or have you and your betas(Or was there only one?) eaten your Caps Lock buttons as a snack?

But yeah, I'm grammar Nazi here. Really Irma Grese. (Is actually is my MSN screenname behind yakuzakyuu@hotmail.com, so... :P )

Stuff in Internet is real, people. It must be written right. You always do have "edit"-button. Professional writers don't have that, once book is printed.

Take this as constructive and fix if you want.
 
Whoa now man. I dont care if she has beta or not, no one is looking for correct grammar, rather her excellent writing, so try just reading and not trying to fix every little error, and just enjoy! Shes an awesome writing editing or not. So lets chill with the grammar :D and have fun!
broken ;)
:woot: Cant wait for the update still loving your work
 
Every little error? *chokes and cusses with some British profanities* ....Ahem. I see spelling and grammar part of the excellent writing, believe or not.

That writing would look same that what I write when I'm on bus and try to use pen without distraction and can't make large, flowing capital letters to jot down my notes to next gaming session.

About Alias-fanfic...
If it causes you a headache, it is badly written.
If it causes you a mental orgasm or you imagine yourself f*king Sark or other character, it is well-written.

I got a headache.

Maybe I should switch my avatar to more suitable... ^_^

And change that slang "man" to "woman", please.
 
ok first, i am her beta-er and if you don't like the way she write stuff than please don't read it. i don't mean to insult you, i know u meant it as constructive critisism, but it doesn't sound that way.
second, i have asked her about capitalizing and the way she spells certain words and she says that's the way she writes. and i for one think thats great.
it's just the internet, it's not like shes writing a book.
 
wow guys, thanks for leaping to my defences.
here's the thing kirika, i'm not writing this for you. i'm not writing this for meg, or brooke, or anyone. i'm writing this for me. i'm writing this because i enjoy it. i understand from where you are coming with the whole grammar issue. i also am obsessed with grammar. i hate sentences that end with prepositions. i hate when someone uses "him" when he/she should use "he". i hate using "good" instead of "well". i hate "its" when it should be "it's". i'm a grammar nerd. but i spell things like "defence" or "organisation" or "favourite" because that's the way i like to spell them. i don't use capital letters because i don't particularly like capital letters; i think they are kind of ugly.
i'm an editor on my school paper and will next year be editor in chief. for the third year in a row i am participating in national novel writers' month and attempting to write a 50,000 word novel in only the 30 days of november. i love to write. and i love that people like what i write. but if you don't, that's okay, just don't read it. again, i'm only writing this because it makes me happy. if it gives you a headache, i would advise against reading it. i apologise that it gives you a headache, but that's not going to change how i write.
thank all of you for telling me how you feel about my writing. i appreciate it.

and i'm sorry i haven't gotten a chapter out in a while. a lot are written, i just have to send them to meg. it's just that nanowrimo (national novel writers' month) is taking up all my time right now. i'll try to send one to meg soon though guys.

:smiley:
m-c
 
huff. i finally sent the next one to meg. sorry, it's just nanowrimo kept me super busy. i'll post it the minute i get the beta-ed version. thanks for your patience guys.

m-c
 
rawrg! finally! woot. hehe. i love this chapter. hope you guys do too!

xxiv. c’etait amour
waves pummeled the beach; the crashes drifting their ways through the porch screen and to sark’s ears. he breathed contentedly and kept his eyes closed. it had been a nice nap. he was lounging in a wicker chair on the porch, looking out at the ocean, and the sound lulled him to sleep. no more. the wind was picking up. there was a storm visible at the horizon. waves crashed harder and harder. he smiled as he tasted the salt in the air.
he closed up the porch so the furniture wouldn’t be ruined by the storm, but instead of heading inside, he headed out.
the wind was getting worse. waves were tearing away chunks of the beach. he stood at the edge of the hill, the wind swirling through his hair, the waves sending water to his face and clothes. the water was freezing and the wind made it so cold it was bitter, but sark didn’t flinch. he just stood, staring out at the almost black horizon, waiting for the rain to start.
lightning shot across the sky. one, two, three. sark counted three seconds before its thunder accompanied it. just a little longer, he thought to himself.
“sark!” sydney’s voice was carried off by the wind and it never touched his ears. “come in! it’s getting bad!”
she thought he was ignoring her. he hadn’t so much as heard a whisper. she headed out after him.
one drop. two drops. three, four, five. the rain starting pouring down. sark opened his arms as if to embrace it. the wind blew the drops sideways. they were slamming into his face, pounding against the sand with their tiny fists.
he closed his eyes, let his mouth drop open and tasted the sweet kiss of the rain. he licked his lips and dug his toes into the sand.
she tugged at his sleeve. he was surprised to see her.
“i was screaming at you for five minutes!” she exclaimed.
“i didn’t hear! i can barely hear you now!”
“let’s go in! it’s pouring!”
“that’s the point!”
he grinned, closing his eyes again. not at her. at the rain. at the weather. at mother nature. at god.
“don’t you feel connected to the universe? abe lincoln drank this water. louis the fourteenth. napoleon. winston churchhill. queen elizabeth.”
“i am too cold to be connected to the universe!” sydney smiled.
“then go inside! i need this. this marriage to a supreme being.”
she laughed and grabbed him, slamming her lips against his harder than the rain pounded against them. he opened his eyes as she kissed him just to watch her.
“you’re so beautiful,” he said when she pulled away.
“come inside! we’ve been connected with the universe enough for one day.”
she pulled him along with her as she took off.
once safely inside and toweling themselves off, sydney beamed at him.
“i never knew you believed in ‘a supreme being’,” she smiled.
“of course i do,” he looked at her incredulously before taking a towel to his hair. “why—don’t you?”
“no, i mean, i do. i just…i didn’t really expect you to be the type,” she replied.
“just because i basically kill people for a living doesn’t mean i don’t believe in a god,” he chuckled slightly. “i was born in ireland, you know? my mom raised me to be the good irish catholic boy. well, the catholicism didn’t really work out, but i still believe in god. i’m not big on the whole day of judgment thing or the idea that god has the plan for us, but i do believe in god. sometimes you feel such a connection with everything in the world, with all the people, all the places, all the things; at those moments, you have to realise there is something superior to life, something that brings us all together. i believe in a universal morality. you don’t harm someone weaker than you or someone who does not deserve it. i would never hit a child, or a sick person, or anything like that unless my life, or someone i loved’s life, was in danger. that’s wrong.”
she grabbed him again and kissed him.
“i love you,” she whispered.
he suddenly pulled her up to carry her in his arms. she burst with laughter. he silenced her with a kiss.
“love you too,” he said, his forehead pressed against hers.
he carried her through the mansion, taking mostly unused hallways and staircases so as not to be seen by anyone. she giggled and buried her head in the nook of his neck, kissing him gently.
he brought her to his room and laid her softly on the bed. he edged himself up next to her, burning her eyes with his swirls of blue. he kissed her lightly.
both of them still had damp hair; both were still shivering slightly; neither wanted to move. so they lay, curled up in each other’s arms, wrapped up in each other’s eyes. they just lay there.
“what’s going to happen to us?” sydney asked, breaking eye contact.
“what do you mean?” he wrapped his arms around her tighter.
“you know what i mean. they are never going to stop looking for me,” she said.
“yeah well we’re never going to let them find you,” he replied, kissing her head.
“how? are we living on the run forever? are we never going to settle down?”
he beamed. “do you want to?”
she pulled away. “it doesn’t matter. what matters is what is going to happen to us?”
“no,” he shook his head. “what matters is what you want. because if i know what you want, i will do everything in my power to give it do you. i will do anything i can to make you happy. and if living on the run with me isn’t what is going to make you happy, we won’t do it. if settling down isn’t what you want, i won’t do it. if you’d rather go back to l.a. and go back to what you know, you have to go. i refuse to make you unhappy.”
she sat on the edge of the bed, not looking at him. it didn’t work; he could still tell that she was crying. he rubbed her back, grazing lightly over the back of her neck—a place he knew was ticklish. she squirmed beneath his touch. he slipped his fingers over the back of her neck again. she giggled.
“you can’t tickle me every time—” she began.
“i know,” he sat up behind her and rubbed her back. “but i can kiss you, and hold you, and tell you everything is going to be all right. i can make you as happy as is within my power. i can wrap my arms around you and remind you that i love you.”
tears welled in her eyes again.
“i hate you,” she cried.
he pulled back and stared at her, eyes wide, seemingly frightened. she immediately backtracked.
“no, i don’t,” she said quickly. “but i hate this. i’m not worth this. i feel like i make the world go around; you love me; cia will be forever searching for me. i’m not that important. and i hate that you are supposed to be evil. i hate that you are changing my system of beliefs. i hate that i used to be one-hundred percent positive of morals and ethics and beliefs and in less than a year, you have torn that to shreds. i hate that i love you so much it hurts. i hate that i love you and that i love this place and that i love my mother and i love harris. i was so set in my ways and i hate that that has just completely changed.”
“so you want to go back?” he asked, eyes still wide.
“no, no, no,” she replied, cradling his face in her hand. “don’t get me wrong, this life is amazing and i never want to leave. but it hurts that i thought i was completely right and turned out to be completely wrong. do you understand?”
“no,” he grinned. “but as long as you don’t want to leave, i’m happy…and as for you thinking you aren’t worth this, you’re insane. you are definitely crazy.”
she smiled and rolled back onto the bed.
“maybe you’re the one who’s crazy.”
“you’re right,” he kissed her stomach. “crazy for you.”
she burst out laughing. “that was such a line! how many times have you used that one before?”
“girls don’t usually call me crazy, so i don’t usually get the chance,” he replied truthfully, still kissing her stomach lightly.
she tossed her head back lightly and arched to his lips. they were so soft, so precious to her. the way he touched her made her feel like she was the only woman in the whole world. it made her feel like she was worth everything he did for her. she loved him so much, his touch seared her skin.
he let his lips graze over her flat, smooth, gorgeous stomach. one day… he promised himself silently as he traced her belly button with his fingers. he trembled when he touched her. he couldn’t help it. she was just so amazing, so beautiful, so perfect. she was his reason.
she sifted her fingers through his damp hair. he shivered as her hands came to his face and pulled him up to her. she kissed him lightly. he melted into her.
it was passionate, romantic. they kissed for half and hour, never breaking from each other except for air. eventually she began to slowly unbutton his shirt. it wasn’t like when they had been together before. it wasn’t a “i want you and i want you now.” instead it was love. real love. true love. pure love.
he cradled her in his arms before easing her shirt over her head. she traced the features on his face with her hands. he closed his eyes and breathed heavily.
“god vaughn would kill me if he knew what we were doing right now,” sark sighed.
sydney rolled over laughing. “i’m so glad foreplay makes you think about vaughn!”
“it makes me think about how you’re not his,” he rolled on top of her. “it makes me think about how you’re mine, how much i love you, how he was never good enough for you.”
“who says you are?” she taunted, smirking.
“you’re the one lying underneath me half-naked.” he started kissing her neck. “you’re the one who is going to be screaming out my name.” he pulled her to him by the hip. “you’re the one grinning at my erection pressing against you.” he kissed her passionately. “you’re the one who dissolves when i kiss you.”
“hey,” she retorted, “you do that too.”
he grinned. not replying, he kissed her again; both of them dissolved into each other. soon enough his undershirt was off and she traced the muscles of his back and torso. she took off his belt and undid his pants. sark jumped to stand on the bed and let his pants slid to his ankles. she tickled the back of his bare knees, making him fall back to the bed with laughter. she pushed his pants the rest of the way off and rubbed him through his boxers. he moaned.
“je t’aime,” he whispered through closed eyes. “te amo. ich liebe dich. ti amo. eu te amo. ik houd van u.”
she crawled up next to him. his eyes were still closed; he was still breathing heavily. she nibbled gently on his ear lobe.
“i love you too,” she whispered, light tears in her eyes.
suddenly he sprang to life and flipped her over underneath him. she shrieked with laughter. he kissed her neck as he unbuckled her pants. he kissed his way down to the top of her jeans and slowly pulled them down. he ran his hands all over her body. she pushed him back, sitting up. slowly, gently, carefully, sark unclasped her bra. it fell off her shoulders, and she tossed it aside. he held her face as he kissed her.
c’etait amour.
eventually naked and slowly molding into one another, they kissed. they held each other. they cuddled.
c’etait parfait.
he climbed on top of her, his blue eyes holding hers captive. she arched back—still keeping eye contact—as he slid in. this was all they wanted. to be together. they couldn’t live without it.
sark began to make love to sydney. he started slowly. almost tantalisingly slowly. but eventually his speed began to build up. he grinned and closed his eyes as he plunged himself in and out of her.
they both came, in shivers and convulsions and names seeping their ways over lips.
he rolled off, staring contentedly at the ceiling and letting his thoughts and his breath catch up with him. sydney turned away from him on the other side of the bed. he wrapped an arm around her and kissed her bare, flawless shoulder. only when he brushed the hair off of her face did he realise she was crying again.
“hey hey hey,” he rolled her over to face him. “what’s wrong?”
she just shook her head and looked away.
he kissed her wet eyes. that just made her sob. he pulled her close and buried her head into him.
“it’s okay,” he whispered. “you’ll be all right. i’m here. it’s okay.”
“just—” she choked out through her tears. “just hold me for a little while, okay?”
he wrapped his whole body around her and kissed her head. he squeezed her.
“i’ll hold you any time you need me too.”
she let the rest of her tears dry themselves on his bare chest. when she had regained control, she looked up and kissed him lightly.
***
that night, sark just talked. he told sydney everything, about everything. she hadn’t asked; she didn’t need to. he wanted to make sure she understood him. he wanted to make sure she knew he wasn’t as horrible as the cia may have made him seem. he told her about safe houses he had always had, safe houses he had stopped using, mansions about which even irina didn’t know. he told her about underground bunkers and cashes of weapons. he delved into his past. he went so far as to tell her about his family. he told her about killing his father. he told her of his mother and sister, his home in ireland.
it was the most intimate night they had ever had together.
c’était amour.


okay so we got a few more chapters, but i don't know how to end this. i have three ways:
a) bitter
b) angsty...very very very very angsty
c) fluffy
i was wondering what you guys thought. my favourite is bitter, but if everyone wants one of the others, i'll write that (or at least write that in addition) what do you guys think?
thanks for reading! :D

m-c
 
ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT ENDING THE CHAPTER OR STORY?! oh god if u ended the story right now oy madone i think id die i love it so much! lol, i like bitter but i want them to be sooo happy i want Sark and Sydney together, forever, her and him lol, i like fluffy i chose fluffy....
Brooke
*updates on my story if anyone wants to read :smiley:
 
waves pummeled the beach; the crashes drifting their ways through the porch screen and to sark’s ears. he breathed contentedly and kept his eyes closed. it had been a nice nap. he was lounging in a wicker chair on the porch, looking out at the ocean, and the sound lulled him to sleep. no more. the wind was picking up. there was a storm visible at the horizon. waves crashed harder and harder. he smiled as he tasted the salt in the air.
I love the imagery of Sark standing out in the rain.

sydney rolled over laughing. “i’m so glad foreplay makes you think about vaughn!”
Loved that!

I vote C because nothing beats an angsty fic with a happy ending.
 
::claps:: im so happy people agree with me about Fluffy and I agree with bluebear nothing beats an angsty flick than a fluffy ending! yay cant wait for more!
Brooke
*Updates on my tale :smiley:
 
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