TwistedForever
Cadet
Title: Just One Night
Rating: PG 13+
Disclaimer: I don’t own Alias...but it’s my dream too, along with taking over the world AND being placed in a straight jacket.
Author’s Note: This story was written for the sd-1 FFWF challenge #2.
Summary: “For just one night, lose yourself”
Elements: Cinderella, fall, Interesting Fact, Eating in a café, Movie theatre, ice cream shop.
1/2
Another holiday, another mission. It never changed. Ever since Sydney Bristow’s discovery at Wittenberg one year ago, the CIA had been sending her to every country in the world. Retrieve this, extract him, gather Intel about her, it was always the same. But to a degree, Sydney didn’t mind.
After all, she had no social life, no friends, nothing except Michael Vaughn, but even he had become a burden to her. There was a time when they were deeply in love; but now it seemed that time was in another life, another age. Now, it was a one-sided relationship – he constantly flooding her with gifts, items that Sydney Bristow would have loved. But the old Sydney Bristow was dead, now there was just a body containing a new person, a new attitude and new feelings. And so, the missions diverted her attention, she had no time to stop and think and cry – and that was how she liked it.
Sydney shook her head – it was no time for pity. She glanced around the large room she was in – it was nicely decorated, warm colours and lovely professional portraits on every wall. A prefect place to hold a Halloween party. And of course, the prefect venue had the prefect party.
Hundreds of people were gathered in the large room, even more taking in the beauty of the fall garden – it’s crippled, warmly coloured leaves and the wonderful lights created the romantic atmosphere that hung in the air. Of course, only couples ventured into the gardens in hopes of finding a private spot where they would fulfil their desires while the single men and women guests stayed in the room, admiring other people’s party costumes and judging whose was the best of them all.
Sydney, as usual, looked fabulous. She had decided to go as Cinderella – whom was a favourite book next to Alice in Wonderland as a child. She wore a beautiful light blue ball gown, old-style and all. Her hair – a blonde wig – hung loosely at her shoulders, making her look even more spectacular.
She weaved through the crowd, looking for any signs of Ricky Williams, – the owner of the latest Rambaldi item, the missing link, and the husband of the woman who was hosting the party – or his office, where the artifact was being held. When she found no signs of either, Sydney settled for getting a drink.
She reached the long thin refreshment table and picked up a glass of champagne, smiling at the waiter that stood behind it. She gently turned around, drink in hand, and once more scanned the crowd. As before, she couldn’t see Williams anywhere.
She stood in despair for a moment before remembering the glasses that Marshall had given to her. Marshall, being the genius he was, had thought of the issue of costume, so to make sure that Sydney could find Williams regardless of costume, he had installed a face recognition database in a pair of glasses. It would scan faces and find the match for Williams, using facial features such as cheekbones and eye spacing.
She lifted the glasses out of her purse and placed them gently on the bridge of her nose. Then she moved her hand to the side of the frame, to the normal eye it would look as if she adjusting the glasses into a more comfortable position, but in fact she was actually turning the database on. After pressing in the small button, she lowered her hand and proceeded to scan the crowd.
She had scanned half the men in the hall when she heard a familiar British male voice; Sark was there. She immediately turned, not in the direction of Sark but rather towards the stage. She lifted her hand up to her ear and spoke softly into the comm link.
“We have gatecrashers, Sark’s here.” Her voice was rushed, almost worried. She didn’t feel like an encounter with Sark tonight.
She was about to walk off when an announcement crackled over the microphone, making her pause in her tracks. She stared up at the man, glasses still resting on her nose. She stayed still as was the rest of the crowd, listening to the announcement, if she moved now, Sark would most definitely see her.
A sudden crackle from her comm link made Sydney jump. “That’s Williams,” Dixon, whom was receiving the feed from the glasses, informed her. “And we’ve located his office, it’s on the third floor and it’s the fifth door down.” Vaughn had once been Sydney’s partner, but Dixon took his place shortly after retiring from being director. To a degree, Sydney was pleased with the change.
She turned her head slightly, observing the stairwell, which Sark was climbing. She was quick to come up with a plan. She walked the short distance back to the refreshment table and once more smiled at the waiter. “Excuse me,” she said sweetly. “May you please point me in the direction of the ladies room?”
“Of course Miss, it’s up those stairs on the second floor. First door,” he replied, looking over Sydney.
“Why thankyou,” Sydney said, flashing a smile at him once more before turning and walking towards the stairwell, rolling her eyes as she did so. Once she was out of eyesight, she started to run.
She ran up the stairs, determined to get the device without receiving serious injuries from Sark. Once she reached the third floor, she sprinted towards the fifth door – William’s office. When she reached it, the door was ajar; meaning that Sark had gotten in shortly before. Not that she didn’t mind him getting to the office before her, that meant that he could bypass all the systems and she would only have to get the device.
She pushed the door fully open and stepped inside, bringing her gun up to shoulder level. Sark, upon hearing her entry, turned slowly, the device in hand. Sydney almost burst out laughing when she saw his costume.
“Too late Miss Bristow,” Sark said with his signature smirk appearing on his features. He placed the device carefully into a bag, which had been flung onto the office desk and then picked up the bag. “Or should I say, Cinderella?” Sark added, observing the gown she was in.
“Tell me Sark, what are you supposed to be?” She was stalling, she knew it, and Sark knew it. Another thing that both of them knew was that she wouldn’t pull the trigger and he wouldn’t give up the device. They had been trapped in this situation – or the reverse of the situation – many times before and it never changed.
“Aladdin, of course,” he spread out his arms, exposing the full costume. He was wearing baggy white shorts – a fake sword hanging from one side and a gun hidden on the other – and a blue vest, exposing his chest to the world.
“We’ll as lovely as this chat as been, I really must get back to work,” Sark announced, not even bothering to pull out his own gun. He took a few steps towards Sydney, slowly closing the space that separated them.
“Hand me the device, Sark,” Sydney ordered, gun still trained on him. Her hands were steady, but her insides were shaking with adrenaline.
Sark opened his mouth to speak but he was cut off by the sound of distant speaking and footsteps. Both Sydney and Sark turned their head towards the door, still slightly ajar. Sydney immediately recognized the voice; deep masculine with the hint of an Australian accent in it. It was Williams.
Sydney’s eyes immediately began to dart around the room, looking for a hiding place or escape route. But there wasn’t any. Sark, also realizing the danger they had found themselves in, quickly came up with a plan.
He stepped forward, completely closing the space between them as he did so. Then, he lent down, pressing his lips against hers. He closed his eyes and carefully placed his hand on her hips, pulling her closer.
For a moment, Sydney was lost in the kiss. She lowered her gun, her tongue massaging his. Then she dropped her gun; it landed in Sark’s bag with a soft thud. The sound of the door creeping open brought her back to reality. Her eyes sprung open and she remembered whom she was kissing.
She broke the kiss off and glanced at Williams, a wash of embarrassment embracing her and turning her face bright pink. She was about to open her mouth to explain themselves but Sark beat her.
“I’m sorry Sir. My girlfriend and I were just...” Williams put his hand up to silence him, an understanding smile spreading over his lips as he did so. Meanwhile, Sark wrapped his hand around Sydney’s waist, pulling her closer to him.
“I understand perfectly,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. He didn’t even bother to think that by some chance Sark and Sydney could have been trying to steal his artifact. “But please, would you?” He motioned towards the door.
Taking the hint, Sydney nodded and started to walk out of the office, Sark’s arm still draped around her waist. Slowly, she let her hand drop down into his bag, taking out of the device and silently putting it in her dress.
Once they were out of sight and earshot, Sydney spoke. “We should stay together, just to prove that we are...” she paused, thinking of a suitable word. “...together,” she finally added. She didn’t bring up the kiss, as she wanted to forget the event and the feelings it drew out completely.
“No objections here,” Sark replied, linking his arm in hers. His usual smirk took place on his face as Sydney rolled her eyes.
Together, the pair walked through the crowd, heading straight for the garden. As they walked, they observed their surroundings. Bright colorful lanterns illuminated beautifully decorated trees and hedges. Every plant was trimmed just prefect, making the garden even more stunning. And the moon shone bright from its position in the dark starry night, lighting the path underneath their feet. For a moment, Sydney felt as if she was in heaven on earth.
However, her happiness came crashing down when she heard Dixon’s voice in her ear. “Syd? Syd? Are you okay? Did you get the artifact?” Sydney quickly remembered that Dixon would’ve heard the previous event. Her cheeks turned bright red once more.
Reality forced her to break away from Sark’s grip; the feelings of upset and regret washing over her surprised her. It took her a few moments to remember who they were and whom they worked for. He was the enemy, and yet she couldn’t forgot his soft touch and gentle nature that he showed just moments before.
“Yeah, I’m here. Look, Dixon, I’m going radio silent,” she announced. She didn’t wait for an answer before pulling the ear piece out of her ear and discarding it in her pocket. Once she did so, she turned to Sark, confusion taking over her sense of regret.
“Why did you do that, back there?” she questioned. Sark had spent the last few years trying to eliminate the threat she held. And yet, he had saved her life.
“Well, if he caught you, he would’ve caught me,” he replied casually. “And I didn’t want to be caught, not yet anyway,” Sark added.
Sydney’s smile faded, here she thought he too felt a connection back there, but instead it had just been a way to save his own ass. Vaughn, she reminded herself sternly, you’re dating Vaughn, and Sark’s appeal a figment of your imagination.
“Well as lovely as this is, Sark, I really must be off,” her voice returned to it’s normal hard-core tone that it took on when she spoke Sark. Her eyes turned cold as well.
“What? Afraid you’ll turn into a pumpkin?” Sark mocked, leaning against a post. Sydney was quick to reply.
“No, afraid someone may actually think I’d kiss you.”
With that, Sydney turned on her heels, and slowly started to walk away. She didn’t want to, she wanted to investigate the kiss further, but her job forced her not too. And her job was something that would last longer than any man would.
She reached the t-intersection of paths when she heard gunshots erupting, followed by a vase crashing by her feet. Instincts took her over as she dived out of the line of fire, into the bushes. She reached down into her pockets, searching for her handgun. Once she came up empty, she remembered that she had dropped it into Sark’s bag. She silently swore at herself as she burrowed deeper into the brush, trying to camouflage herself.
She stared through a gap in the bushes, trying to slow down her breathing as much as possible so the gunmen wouldn’t hear. The sounds of the gunshots died down, and all was silent, except for the sound of footsteps approaching. Sydney breathed in deeply before holding her breath, worry and fear taking over her.
The footsteps got louder and louder as they got closer and closer. Finally, they stopped, and Sydney was cast in a dark shadow. Along with the shadow, Sydney was cast in a deadly silence, her face growing redder every second she held her breath.
The feeling of lightheadedness overcame Sydney as she sat, trying not to breathe. But she couldn’t hold it in any longer, she let out all of her breath, thus giving away her location. Bullets whizzed past her as she clambered through the bushes, trying to stay alive.
But she wasn’t fast enough; a bullet whizzed past, embedding itself in Sydney’s leg. She let out a groan of pain as she stopped moving, checking the wound quickly. She immediately pressed down the on the wound, trying to pause or stop the blood that spilled out of her leg.
She lifted her head when she heard the sounds of another gun – a different gun – being fired. Still keeping pressure on her wound, she watched as a body fell limply to the ground in front of her.
Sark stepped through the bushes, still holding the gun that had been fired moments before. He quickly helped Sydney to her feet and – Sydney leaning on him – started to run as best as they could for the car that waited for him.
Sydney observed her surroundings: a flashy upper-class hotel room, decorated with cream walls and a lighter shade of cream on the roof. The bed she was perched on was located on the eastern side of the room, along with a bedside table, and a desk. Scattered around the rest of the room were random furniture pieces such as a mini bar, etc.
She was laying on the four-post double bed, her now-bandaged injured leg out in front of her. Meanwhile Sark – whom had taken her to his hotel room and treated her wound – leaned against one of the posts, taking in every feature she possessed.
“Why’d you help me?” Sydney asked, breaking the awkward silence that had surrounding them for quite some time. True, his help was unexpected, but she did have the artifact and it was no use to Sark in the hands of those men.
“Because...” Sark paused, coming up with the perfect answer. “...fighting you is so much more fun than fighting some stranger.” He smirked as he turned around, heading towards the mini bar. He silently pulled out a bottle of wine, followed by two wineglasses.
Just as silent, he made his way back to the bed, sitting down next to her. He pulled the cork off the half-finished bottle and poured generous amounts into both glasses. “Here,” he said as he handed Sydney one of the glasses.
He lifted the glass to his lips, swallowing a small proportion of the liquid. Sydney, however, did not repeat his actions. Instead, she sat as still and silent as a doll, her chocolate brown eyes staring intently into his sparkling blues.
The silence lingered in the air for several moments longer, neither of them daring to move. Suddenly, Sark did move - closer to Sydney. The space between them was closed quickly as Sark’s lips met Sydney’s. The kiss was gentle, soft, and sweeter than the previous rushed one.
Both of them were lost in a world of fantasy. A place where dreams could come true, a place where they were not archenemies, a place where they could do as they please. Unfortunately, their world did not last.
Sydney pulled away, breaking off the kiss. Her eyes densely held the look of sadness, but she did not meet Sark’s lips again. Instead, she pushed herself further up against the pillows that rested against the wooden headboard that separated the bed and wall.
“I can’t. I’m with Vaughn. If anything happened, I’d betray him. Not to mention my country,” she smiled sweetly at him, moving her hand from her side to his cheek. Her hand caressed his skin gently, sending tingles down Sark’s spine.
“My father tried this once before, with my mother. And look where it got him, most people believe him to be a terrorist, and he can’t even have a stable relationship with his own daughter,” Sydney paused, her voice as thick with sadness as her eyes.
“You’re not your father,” Sark replied, moving closer to Sydney. “And besides, I don’t think either of us want to think of Jack at a time such as this.” He smirked, still moving closer towards Sydney, hoping to change her mind. But she didn’t, she backed up further against the headboard, resting her hand on Sark’s pounding chest and pushing him away.
“Please Sark, I’ve made a pledge to my country, a pledge to not cross this line,” Sydney paused, wondering how she could fall for someone so quickly. Maybe, just maybe her feelings for Sark had always been present, and it took that kiss to bring them to the surface.
Sydney added, “Nothing is more important to me than serving my country.”
Silence overcame Sark as he shuffled back towards the end of the bed. Finally he spoke - the feeling of rejection cutting deep into him. “Not even happiness?”
“I have happiness. Happiness with Vaughn,” she replied, fighting the urge to jump on him that second. Instead, she dropped her eyes, busying herself by playing with her wineglass.
“Not from where I’m sitting, you don’t,” Sark continued, determined to get his girl. “Fine then, if Sydney Bristow can not go through with it, then...then don’t be Sydney Bristow. Just for one night...”
He continued, getting more confident with each sentence. “For one night, leave Sydney behind. For one night, choose for yourself. Don’t think of Jack or Vaughn, think of yourself, and your happiness.”
“For just one night, lose yourself,” that sealed the deal. Sydney’s eyes slowly rose, staring deep into his. She did not move or comment as Sark moved closer, taking her face into his hands. Nor did she care when his lips caressed her skin, traveling up her neck and eventually reaching her lips.
And for that one moment, she was only too happy to let go of who she was.
Author's Note: This has already been posted over at sd-1.net but since that's down, i'd decide i'd come over and see what this sites all bout.
Rating: PG 13+
Disclaimer: I don’t own Alias...but it’s my dream too, along with taking over the world AND being placed in a straight jacket.
Author’s Note: This story was written for the sd-1 FFWF challenge #2.
Summary: “For just one night, lose yourself”
Elements: Cinderella, fall, Interesting Fact, Eating in a café, Movie theatre, ice cream shop.
1/2
Another holiday, another mission. It never changed. Ever since Sydney Bristow’s discovery at Wittenberg one year ago, the CIA had been sending her to every country in the world. Retrieve this, extract him, gather Intel about her, it was always the same. But to a degree, Sydney didn’t mind.
After all, she had no social life, no friends, nothing except Michael Vaughn, but even he had become a burden to her. There was a time when they were deeply in love; but now it seemed that time was in another life, another age. Now, it was a one-sided relationship – he constantly flooding her with gifts, items that Sydney Bristow would have loved. But the old Sydney Bristow was dead, now there was just a body containing a new person, a new attitude and new feelings. And so, the missions diverted her attention, she had no time to stop and think and cry – and that was how she liked it.
Sydney shook her head – it was no time for pity. She glanced around the large room she was in – it was nicely decorated, warm colours and lovely professional portraits on every wall. A prefect place to hold a Halloween party. And of course, the prefect venue had the prefect party.
Hundreds of people were gathered in the large room, even more taking in the beauty of the fall garden – it’s crippled, warmly coloured leaves and the wonderful lights created the romantic atmosphere that hung in the air. Of course, only couples ventured into the gardens in hopes of finding a private spot where they would fulfil their desires while the single men and women guests stayed in the room, admiring other people’s party costumes and judging whose was the best of them all.
Sydney, as usual, looked fabulous. She had decided to go as Cinderella – whom was a favourite book next to Alice in Wonderland as a child. She wore a beautiful light blue ball gown, old-style and all. Her hair – a blonde wig – hung loosely at her shoulders, making her look even more spectacular.
She weaved through the crowd, looking for any signs of Ricky Williams, – the owner of the latest Rambaldi item, the missing link, and the husband of the woman who was hosting the party – or his office, where the artifact was being held. When she found no signs of either, Sydney settled for getting a drink.
She reached the long thin refreshment table and picked up a glass of champagne, smiling at the waiter that stood behind it. She gently turned around, drink in hand, and once more scanned the crowd. As before, she couldn’t see Williams anywhere.
She stood in despair for a moment before remembering the glasses that Marshall had given to her. Marshall, being the genius he was, had thought of the issue of costume, so to make sure that Sydney could find Williams regardless of costume, he had installed a face recognition database in a pair of glasses. It would scan faces and find the match for Williams, using facial features such as cheekbones and eye spacing.
She lifted the glasses out of her purse and placed them gently on the bridge of her nose. Then she moved her hand to the side of the frame, to the normal eye it would look as if she adjusting the glasses into a more comfortable position, but in fact she was actually turning the database on. After pressing in the small button, she lowered her hand and proceeded to scan the crowd.
She had scanned half the men in the hall when she heard a familiar British male voice; Sark was there. She immediately turned, not in the direction of Sark but rather towards the stage. She lifted her hand up to her ear and spoke softly into the comm link.
“We have gatecrashers, Sark’s here.” Her voice was rushed, almost worried. She didn’t feel like an encounter with Sark tonight.
She was about to walk off when an announcement crackled over the microphone, making her pause in her tracks. She stared up at the man, glasses still resting on her nose. She stayed still as was the rest of the crowd, listening to the announcement, if she moved now, Sark would most definitely see her.
A sudden crackle from her comm link made Sydney jump. “That’s Williams,” Dixon, whom was receiving the feed from the glasses, informed her. “And we’ve located his office, it’s on the third floor and it’s the fifth door down.” Vaughn had once been Sydney’s partner, but Dixon took his place shortly after retiring from being director. To a degree, Sydney was pleased with the change.
She turned her head slightly, observing the stairwell, which Sark was climbing. She was quick to come up with a plan. She walked the short distance back to the refreshment table and once more smiled at the waiter. “Excuse me,” she said sweetly. “May you please point me in the direction of the ladies room?”
“Of course Miss, it’s up those stairs on the second floor. First door,” he replied, looking over Sydney.
“Why thankyou,” Sydney said, flashing a smile at him once more before turning and walking towards the stairwell, rolling her eyes as she did so. Once she was out of eyesight, she started to run.
She ran up the stairs, determined to get the device without receiving serious injuries from Sark. Once she reached the third floor, she sprinted towards the fifth door – William’s office. When she reached it, the door was ajar; meaning that Sark had gotten in shortly before. Not that she didn’t mind him getting to the office before her, that meant that he could bypass all the systems and she would only have to get the device.
She pushed the door fully open and stepped inside, bringing her gun up to shoulder level. Sark, upon hearing her entry, turned slowly, the device in hand. Sydney almost burst out laughing when she saw his costume.
“Too late Miss Bristow,” Sark said with his signature smirk appearing on his features. He placed the device carefully into a bag, which had been flung onto the office desk and then picked up the bag. “Or should I say, Cinderella?” Sark added, observing the gown she was in.
“Tell me Sark, what are you supposed to be?” She was stalling, she knew it, and Sark knew it. Another thing that both of them knew was that she wouldn’t pull the trigger and he wouldn’t give up the device. They had been trapped in this situation – or the reverse of the situation – many times before and it never changed.
“Aladdin, of course,” he spread out his arms, exposing the full costume. He was wearing baggy white shorts – a fake sword hanging from one side and a gun hidden on the other – and a blue vest, exposing his chest to the world.
“We’ll as lovely as this chat as been, I really must get back to work,” Sark announced, not even bothering to pull out his own gun. He took a few steps towards Sydney, slowly closing the space that separated them.
“Hand me the device, Sark,” Sydney ordered, gun still trained on him. Her hands were steady, but her insides were shaking with adrenaline.
Sark opened his mouth to speak but he was cut off by the sound of distant speaking and footsteps. Both Sydney and Sark turned their head towards the door, still slightly ajar. Sydney immediately recognized the voice; deep masculine with the hint of an Australian accent in it. It was Williams.
Sydney’s eyes immediately began to dart around the room, looking for a hiding place or escape route. But there wasn’t any. Sark, also realizing the danger they had found themselves in, quickly came up with a plan.
He stepped forward, completely closing the space between them as he did so. Then, he lent down, pressing his lips against hers. He closed his eyes and carefully placed his hand on her hips, pulling her closer.
For a moment, Sydney was lost in the kiss. She lowered her gun, her tongue massaging his. Then she dropped her gun; it landed in Sark’s bag with a soft thud. The sound of the door creeping open brought her back to reality. Her eyes sprung open and she remembered whom she was kissing.
She broke the kiss off and glanced at Williams, a wash of embarrassment embracing her and turning her face bright pink. She was about to open her mouth to explain themselves but Sark beat her.
“I’m sorry Sir. My girlfriend and I were just...” Williams put his hand up to silence him, an understanding smile spreading over his lips as he did so. Meanwhile, Sark wrapped his hand around Sydney’s waist, pulling her closer to him.
“I understand perfectly,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. He didn’t even bother to think that by some chance Sark and Sydney could have been trying to steal his artifact. “But please, would you?” He motioned towards the door.
Taking the hint, Sydney nodded and started to walk out of the office, Sark’s arm still draped around her waist. Slowly, she let her hand drop down into his bag, taking out of the device and silently putting it in her dress.
Once they were out of sight and earshot, Sydney spoke. “We should stay together, just to prove that we are...” she paused, thinking of a suitable word. “...together,” she finally added. She didn’t bring up the kiss, as she wanted to forget the event and the feelings it drew out completely.
“No objections here,” Sark replied, linking his arm in hers. His usual smirk took place on his face as Sydney rolled her eyes.
Together, the pair walked through the crowd, heading straight for the garden. As they walked, they observed their surroundings. Bright colorful lanterns illuminated beautifully decorated trees and hedges. Every plant was trimmed just prefect, making the garden even more stunning. And the moon shone bright from its position in the dark starry night, lighting the path underneath their feet. For a moment, Sydney felt as if she was in heaven on earth.
However, her happiness came crashing down when she heard Dixon’s voice in her ear. “Syd? Syd? Are you okay? Did you get the artifact?” Sydney quickly remembered that Dixon would’ve heard the previous event. Her cheeks turned bright red once more.
Reality forced her to break away from Sark’s grip; the feelings of upset and regret washing over her surprised her. It took her a few moments to remember who they were and whom they worked for. He was the enemy, and yet she couldn’t forgot his soft touch and gentle nature that he showed just moments before.
“Yeah, I’m here. Look, Dixon, I’m going radio silent,” she announced. She didn’t wait for an answer before pulling the ear piece out of her ear and discarding it in her pocket. Once she did so, she turned to Sark, confusion taking over her sense of regret.
“Why did you do that, back there?” she questioned. Sark had spent the last few years trying to eliminate the threat she held. And yet, he had saved her life.
“Well, if he caught you, he would’ve caught me,” he replied casually. “And I didn’t want to be caught, not yet anyway,” Sark added.
Sydney’s smile faded, here she thought he too felt a connection back there, but instead it had just been a way to save his own ass. Vaughn, she reminded herself sternly, you’re dating Vaughn, and Sark’s appeal a figment of your imagination.
“Well as lovely as this is, Sark, I really must be off,” her voice returned to it’s normal hard-core tone that it took on when she spoke Sark. Her eyes turned cold as well.
“What? Afraid you’ll turn into a pumpkin?” Sark mocked, leaning against a post. Sydney was quick to reply.
“No, afraid someone may actually think I’d kiss you.”
With that, Sydney turned on her heels, and slowly started to walk away. She didn’t want to, she wanted to investigate the kiss further, but her job forced her not too. And her job was something that would last longer than any man would.
She reached the t-intersection of paths when she heard gunshots erupting, followed by a vase crashing by her feet. Instincts took her over as she dived out of the line of fire, into the bushes. She reached down into her pockets, searching for her handgun. Once she came up empty, she remembered that she had dropped it into Sark’s bag. She silently swore at herself as she burrowed deeper into the brush, trying to camouflage herself.
She stared through a gap in the bushes, trying to slow down her breathing as much as possible so the gunmen wouldn’t hear. The sounds of the gunshots died down, and all was silent, except for the sound of footsteps approaching. Sydney breathed in deeply before holding her breath, worry and fear taking over her.
The footsteps got louder and louder as they got closer and closer. Finally, they stopped, and Sydney was cast in a dark shadow. Along with the shadow, Sydney was cast in a deadly silence, her face growing redder every second she held her breath.
The feeling of lightheadedness overcame Sydney as she sat, trying not to breathe. But she couldn’t hold it in any longer, she let out all of her breath, thus giving away her location. Bullets whizzed past her as she clambered through the bushes, trying to stay alive.
But she wasn’t fast enough; a bullet whizzed past, embedding itself in Sydney’s leg. She let out a groan of pain as she stopped moving, checking the wound quickly. She immediately pressed down the on the wound, trying to pause or stop the blood that spilled out of her leg.
She lifted her head when she heard the sounds of another gun – a different gun – being fired. Still keeping pressure on her wound, she watched as a body fell limply to the ground in front of her.
Sark stepped through the bushes, still holding the gun that had been fired moments before. He quickly helped Sydney to her feet and – Sydney leaning on him – started to run as best as they could for the car that waited for him.
Sydney observed her surroundings: a flashy upper-class hotel room, decorated with cream walls and a lighter shade of cream on the roof. The bed she was perched on was located on the eastern side of the room, along with a bedside table, and a desk. Scattered around the rest of the room were random furniture pieces such as a mini bar, etc.
She was laying on the four-post double bed, her now-bandaged injured leg out in front of her. Meanwhile Sark – whom had taken her to his hotel room and treated her wound – leaned against one of the posts, taking in every feature she possessed.
“Why’d you help me?” Sydney asked, breaking the awkward silence that had surrounding them for quite some time. True, his help was unexpected, but she did have the artifact and it was no use to Sark in the hands of those men.
“Because...” Sark paused, coming up with the perfect answer. “...fighting you is so much more fun than fighting some stranger.” He smirked as he turned around, heading towards the mini bar. He silently pulled out a bottle of wine, followed by two wineglasses.
Just as silent, he made his way back to the bed, sitting down next to her. He pulled the cork off the half-finished bottle and poured generous amounts into both glasses. “Here,” he said as he handed Sydney one of the glasses.
He lifted the glass to his lips, swallowing a small proportion of the liquid. Sydney, however, did not repeat his actions. Instead, she sat as still and silent as a doll, her chocolate brown eyes staring intently into his sparkling blues.
The silence lingered in the air for several moments longer, neither of them daring to move. Suddenly, Sark did move - closer to Sydney. The space between them was closed quickly as Sark’s lips met Sydney’s. The kiss was gentle, soft, and sweeter than the previous rushed one.
Both of them were lost in a world of fantasy. A place where dreams could come true, a place where they were not archenemies, a place where they could do as they please. Unfortunately, their world did not last.
Sydney pulled away, breaking off the kiss. Her eyes densely held the look of sadness, but she did not meet Sark’s lips again. Instead, she pushed herself further up against the pillows that rested against the wooden headboard that separated the bed and wall.
“I can’t. I’m with Vaughn. If anything happened, I’d betray him. Not to mention my country,” she smiled sweetly at him, moving her hand from her side to his cheek. Her hand caressed his skin gently, sending tingles down Sark’s spine.
“My father tried this once before, with my mother. And look where it got him, most people believe him to be a terrorist, and he can’t even have a stable relationship with his own daughter,” Sydney paused, her voice as thick with sadness as her eyes.
“You’re not your father,” Sark replied, moving closer to Sydney. “And besides, I don’t think either of us want to think of Jack at a time such as this.” He smirked, still moving closer towards Sydney, hoping to change her mind. But she didn’t, she backed up further against the headboard, resting her hand on Sark’s pounding chest and pushing him away.
“Please Sark, I’ve made a pledge to my country, a pledge to not cross this line,” Sydney paused, wondering how she could fall for someone so quickly. Maybe, just maybe her feelings for Sark had always been present, and it took that kiss to bring them to the surface.
Sydney added, “Nothing is more important to me than serving my country.”
Silence overcame Sark as he shuffled back towards the end of the bed. Finally he spoke - the feeling of rejection cutting deep into him. “Not even happiness?”
“I have happiness. Happiness with Vaughn,” she replied, fighting the urge to jump on him that second. Instead, she dropped her eyes, busying herself by playing with her wineglass.
“Not from where I’m sitting, you don’t,” Sark continued, determined to get his girl. “Fine then, if Sydney Bristow can not go through with it, then...then don’t be Sydney Bristow. Just for one night...”
He continued, getting more confident with each sentence. “For one night, leave Sydney behind. For one night, choose for yourself. Don’t think of Jack or Vaughn, think of yourself, and your happiness.”
“For just one night, lose yourself,” that sealed the deal. Sydney’s eyes slowly rose, staring deep into his. She did not move or comment as Sark moved closer, taking her face into his hands. Nor did she care when his lips caressed her skin, traveling up her neck and eventually reaching her lips.
And for that one moment, she was only too happy to let go of who she was.
Author's Note: This has already been posted over at sd-1.net but since that's down, i'd decide i'd come over and see what this sites all bout.
poor Syd...
:doh: *sighs*
)