Hello all my lovely readers! To make up for my last chapter's lack of Sarkney goodness – and due to my being up late on a Friday night bored out of my mind (I still can’t believe I’m a college graduate living at home with my parents for the summer…I keep chanting “only until August” to get me through it) – here is a lovely chapter filled with some smutty goodness. Hope you all enjoy!
Have I told you lately how much I heart all of you? Well if not – I do!!
Thanks for your continuing support and lovely reviews!
As always, PMs will be sent out after I post! Again, enjoy!
Chapter 9
Backdrifting
we're rotten fruit
we're damaged goods
what the hell we've got nothing more to lose
one burst and we will probably crumble
we're backdrifting
I’m backsliding
you fell into our arms
you fell into our arms
we tried but there was nothing we could do
Radiohea
It had been a very long time since Sydney had been inside of one of Arvin Sloane’s houses, or in his company at all. Suddenly, she felt transported back to the days when she thought SD-6 was the CIA and she had spent many dinners with Arvin and Emily, loving them almost as much as the memory of her mother – back when her mother was Laura Bristow.
So much had changed between now and then. As she walked up the stairs, following Sloane to the room she was to be staying in, she couldn’t help but feel as though ghosts were following her. She felt first numb, then chillingly cold, as the memories of Danny and Emily crept into her mind. Ghosts that had not haunted her in so long came rushing back – all due to Sloane’s presence.
Sark noticed the change in her right away. He saw the goose bumps rise and noticed her subtle shiver. “Danny?” he mouthed at her quietly, not wanting to alert Sloane – as he was rambling on about some paintings that were mounted on the wall.
Sydney nodded, but looked at him in shock – how did he know about Danny? Sark just smirked at her. Clearly she didn’t remember telling him; it was during that six months they had spent healing. Trust Sydney to forget about her own memory loss.
Sydney glared at him for the smirk, obviously upset at his lack of concern. Until she remembered – she must have told him sometime during the past two years. She smiled back at him sheepishly, wanting to laugh out loud at her own forgetfulness – which coincidentally was what had brought them here in the first place.
After that little exchange, Sark went back to memorizing the structure of the building, making sure to look in each room as they passed by it. Sydney was attempting to do the same, but she was still shaken from the feeling of Danny and Emily – that was growing stronger every minute she spent walking behind Sloane.
Suddenly, she saw something that caught her attention. It was one of the paintings that Sloane had been droning on and on about. It was a swirling mess of Black, Red, and Grey. It had a mass of blurred figures in the background. The main focus of the painting was two people journeying through the combination of color and shapes. She stopped suddenly in front of the painting, just staring at is, as if transfixed.
“Ah, that is my favorite painting” Sloane’s voice drifted through her trance-like haze. “It’s a rendition of Dante’s Inferno. I had it made by and Italian painter who is a friend of mine.”
Sydney just nodded, still staring at the painting. It had a strange effect on her. It tugged at her mind and she couldn’t pull her gaze away from it. She was drawn inexplicably to its haunting beauty.
Sark watched this whole exchange take place. There must be more to that painting than met the eye. He now had his suspicions about where this trigger might come from. Sloane always had underestimated Sydney, Jack, and himself. Did he really think that Sark wouldn’t pick up on the effect this painting had on Sydney? She had never been this transfixed by a piece of artwork before.
Sydney shook herself out of the haze when she heard Sark cough quietly, trying to get her attention. As they started back walking down the hallway, Sydney’s mind was drawn back to the painting. There was more to that painting than met the eye. Something told her it was very important to the puzzle that they were trying to solve.
Finally they reached their destination, two guest rooms across the hall from each other.
“I’ll leave you two to get settled. Feel free to meet me for dinner at 7. I’ll look forward to the company. Living alone certainly does get lonely.” With that, he was gone.
Sydney and Sark looked at each other, rolling their eyes. Alone. Right. Most likely Sloane had dozens of guards and subordinates hiding in various places around the vineyard. Not to mention state of the art surveillance in their rooms. That was a given.
Sark quickly pulled out a pen and Sydney was reminded of all those days in the SD-6 halls with her father. He started to tell her about his suspicions. “The trigger – “
“It has to do with the painting somehow.” She had been thinking the exact same thing. It was amazing really – how much alike they were at times.
“Yes. Did you happen to see the name of the painter?” He glanced down at the pen – they only had five more seconds left.
“Carmine Nicolaro. We should get Dad and the others on that right away.” Sydney noticed the red light on the pen blinking. They would have to finish the conversation later.
“That is exactly what I was thinking.” His words were rushed; he knew that they were almost out of time.
The pen clicked. Their time was up.
“I need to wash this travel off, so I think I’m going to go take a shower now.” She announced, for the benefit of any surveillance.
Sark nodded. “I’ll come by in a few hours after we’ve rested so we can go down to dinner together.”
They parted ways, each going into their respective rooms, searching for any surveillance devices. They first planted their own bug killing devices designed by Marshall – who had an uncanny ability to create just the thing that was needed to counter what anybody else had created.
Sark looked around his room and found the hidden cameras placed strategically around the room. He knew to check in the television and VCR from the bugs that Allison had planted in Sydney’s room. He also found the cameras hidden in the light fixture. Next was the wiretap that was in the cable plug for the internet. If he was going to contact jack, he needed to have the computer to send information through. The listening devices he found in the various prints that adorned the walls. Just to be safe, however, any phone calls he would make outdoor – with nobody around. It was the only way to do it. He heard the shower go on across the way, no doubt a distraction that Sydney was using to check her own room for bugs.
He decided to make his way to her room and check up, see how she had fared finding the bugs. As he walked into her room, not knocking, he found her in the awkward position of trying to remove the camera in the light fixture. He smirked at her for the umpteenth time that day. She looked down and saw the look in his eyes.
“Do you find something funny?” She sounded frustrated at all of the smirks he had been throwing her way that day.
“Clearly.” His response was sarcastic and clipped.
“I’m so glad I can amuse you with my struggles.” She sounded so disgruntled.
He just laughed. “You will never cease to amuse me, Sydney.”
“I don’t know whether to swoon or gag from a compliment such as that. Now, would you care to be a gentleman and help a lady out with this?”
“You know, for an extraordinary spy such as yourself, removing this camera is proving difficult. It’s really much like changing a light bulb.”
“Yes. I don’t normally have problems. However, this light bulb is stuck. It doesn’t want to budge.” She looked at him, practically batting her eyelashes.
“I guess I could help you with that.” He smirked back at her – doing a fair mockery of a Southern belle batting her eyelashes
Sark climbed up on the chair that Sydney was standing on. The seat was small, so they stood there, their bodies touching head to toe. His nearness was starting to have an effect on her – the same that it always did when he was either close or touching her. Her skin was tingling – begging to be touched by his lips, his hands. In order to get to the light bulb, Sark had to reach around her, bringing their bodies even closer together, their legs intertwining. As he reached up to the light bulb, he was surprised at how easily it had unscrewed itself. He felt Sydney’s hot breath against his neck, then his ears.
“Now, do you really think after this many years in the game, I wouldn’t be able to unscrew a light bulb and remove the hidden camera?” Her voice and her teasing had the desired affect, as she could hear his breathing shorten, and his desire for her growing.
“Well I don’t know. After yesterday mornings incident with the coffee pot, you never know” As he spoke, he began to place hot, wet kisses along her neck and was rewarded by her growing breathlessness. She could feel the shape of his lips on her neck, forming that smirk she was beginning to enjoy.
“Even though I can’t see your face right now – I can feel your smirk.” Sydney said with a smile playing on her lips.
“Oh but you know you like it – don’t you, love?” He asked her, still teasing her neck with his delightful lips, his hot tongue branding her skin.
She slipped out of his arms and off the chair. “Yes. But I really do have to shower now, before dinner.” She threw an amused glance back his way, as he stood on the chair, looking deliciously aroused and slightly frustrated. She hopped into the bathroom which was already steaming from the running shower water and shut the door.
He could hear her movements as she slipped off her clothes and made her way into the shower. About five minutes later, Sark entered the bathroom, fully intending to join her. The door opening caught Sydney’s attention, and before she knew it Sark had slipped into the shower with her.
“What are you doing?” Sydney turned to face him as he hopped under the water.
“Conserving water.” Sark said and winked at her.
“Oh” she said, turning her back on him and reaching for the bar of soap.
“Let me get that for you.” Sark leaned over from behind her and took the soap out of her hands. He lathered up and began to massage her body with his slick and soapy hands. He started with her neck, massaging it as he cleaned. He went next to her shoulders and then down her arms – the whole time teasing her earlobe, nibbling with his lips and his teeth, then smoothing with his tongue.
His hands then finally came to her breasts. Her breath hitched as he began to massage them gently. His fingers went to her nipples and he took them between his fingers, rolling and pinching them. He was rewarded with a soft moan of pleasure coming from her lips.
He then continued down her body, massaging down her stomach. A soft gasp left her lips as they went lower and touched her briefly between her legs. Another gasp came when he just as quickly brought his hand away from her and pushed her under the water to rinse off.
Sydney turned to face him, desire and frustration clearly written in her eyes. There was also a glint of teasing. Sark could guess what was on her mind – and he was correct. She decided to return the favor he had done for her.
Sydney took the soap and lathered up her hands, just as Sark had done. She started in the same place that he had – she soaped up his neck and shoulder area then moved down to his chest. His heartbeat sped faster as she explored and massaged the muscles along his chest. Her fingernails scratched over his nipples – causing Sark to groan with pleasure at her touch.
Finally she moved down to where he needed her hands the most. She was less teasing than he had been. Sydney began to use her soapy hands and stroke him gently. He groaned even loader and his hips jerked forwards into her hands. In order to punish him for teasing her, she stoked him a few more times – a little bit more insistently – then brought her hand away.
In no time at all, her back was against the wall of the shower. Sark captured her mouth with his in an intensely passionate kiss. Their tongues dueled for control, almost attacking each other in their mouths. He broke the kiss as his hand traveled between their bodies and began to stroke her already wet and throbbing opening. His lips and teeth teased her neck. He wanted to hear her gasps of pleasure as he found her clit and began to stroke it in the way that he knew made her body scream with pleasure. He was rewarded with her moans of pleasure as his hands assaulted her body.
Sark was already throbbing with need to be inside of her. He took his hand away and Sydney instinctively wrapped a leg around his waist to prepare for his entrance into her body. As Sark thrust into her, he rested his hands on the shower wall to keep them steady. They both gasped in pleasure at the sensation. It wasn’t long before his thrusts became more forceful and her back slammed against the shower wall. She gasped in pleasure and in pain – the intense mixture of both that seemed to represent their relationship so well. It was enough to send her over the edge and she took him along with her as her walls clenched around him. Sark captured her lips with his and made one final thrust – filling her completely.
They stood there, still connected for a moment longer as their breathing returned to normal. Their shower resumed in quickly so that they could finish getting ready and meet Sloane down in the dining room for dinner.
****************
Jack’s Blackberry beeped, signaling a new e-mail – it was from Sark. This was strange, since he wasn’t scheduled for a check in until later that evening. It must mean something was afoot already. He scanned over the message, easily picking up on their code.
“Weiss, Vaughn, we need to get started sooner than I thought.” He called the other two agents over from the kitchen. They walked over to the living room and sat down, signaling for Jack to continue.
“We need to find out as much as possible about Carmine Nicolaro. He’s an Italian painter that did a rendition of Dante’s Inferno for Sloane. Something struck both Sydney and Sark as important about this. We also need to get reacquainted with Dante himself. Find any and all translations available – especially those in the original language.”
“Is it possible that this could be part of the trigger for Sydney?” Weiss sounded excited at the potential for a lead. He had been shamed by Sydney’s speech and was prepared to do whatever it took to help his friend in hopes that her trust may one day be regained.
“Yes. We need to find out as much information as possible and see if it could fit. So far it is our only lead.” Jack was trying to hold back any emotion – but a small amount of hope could be detected in his voice if you were trained to listen for it. “I’m going to call Dixon and let him know.”
Jack pulled out his phone to call Dixon. Vaughn and Weiss tried to listen in, but could only hear Jack’s side of the conversation.
“Dixon, its Jack. We have a lead that we’re pursuing. I wanted to fill you in.”
Jack was silent, and they heard the vague noise of Dixon responding.
“An Italian painter, Carmine Nicolaro – and a rendition of Dante that he painted for Sloane. We’re also looking into the text of the Inferno itself for any possible clues.”
Dixon’s next response was longer, but the agents still could not pick up on any definite words, phrases, or even syllables.
“I understand. Yes, we’ll still look into it though.”
More muffled speaking.
“Of course – I’ll be in touch.”
With that, the conversation was over. Weiss and Vaughn looked over at Jack curiously. What had Dixon said to him?
***************
Dinner with Sloane was just as creepy as the tour of his house had been earlier. That man had a talent for turning even the most innocent conversation more sinister. Right now they were discussing his first attempt at making wine – and what a miserable failure it was. It seemed to be an allusion to the failure of the Alliance – and his subsequent rogue operation to discover the endgame of Rambaldi.
Sydney and Sark were looking for an opening for one of them to make it to his study to plant the phone bug. The easiest way to distract Sloane was to talk about art. Sloane loved to go on and on about ancient paintings and artifacts. Especially artifacts that dated to the 15th Century – that was a time frame that Sloane was incredibly knowledgeable about and could therefore talk for hours without interruption.
Since Sark and Sloane had worked together previously on the Rambaldi quest, it was more believable that he would initiate the conversation. Sydney had two outs planned. One was discomfort over Rambaldi discussion – being prophecy girl and all. The other was much simpler – excusing herself to the powder room. She had found many times on SD-6 and CIA missions that this was the easiest excuse to slip away. If she went the other route, Sloane was bound to want to follow her for some fatherly comfort.
She shuddered at the thought.
Best to go with the powder room route, ran through her mind as she signaled Sark with her eyes that she was ready. She had the phone wire hidden in the garter under her skirt that she usually reserved for her gun. Suddenly she was hit with how similar this was to when she bugged Sloane’s office and switched out the Rambaldi manuscript page back in the days at SD-6. It was at that dinner that she had brought Will to – not knowing that Sloane was practically plotting his execution for the story he was investigating. A shudder went through her body again at the eerie similarity of the situations and at the thought of poor Will, wasting away in the mental institution, Danny lying dead in the bathtub, and the shooting of Emily – all victims of the quest for Rambaldi.
She put her game face on nicely, however, and politely excused herself from the table. Sloane barely seemed to notice, due to the fact that Sark had began a conversation about the many artifacts from the Italian Renaissance or something of the sort.
She slipped up to the second floor and made her way to the study they passed when they had been on their way up to the rooms. Sydney was filled with a rush of adrenaline. The feeling that she could be caught at any moment and the thrill of dreaming up an escape route were things that she had missed. It felt like she had not seen any action in such a long time.
The switch was easy to make, she just had to pulse the room for a moment – in case there were any hidden cameras. Then, she pulled the phone wire out of the wall and the phone, replacing it with the wire she pulled from her garter. She placed the original wire in her garter. All in all, she made the switch in less than two minutes. It was a believable amount of time for her to be gone. There was a bounce in her step as she made her way back to the dining room. As she slipped back into her seat, it seemed as is Sloane had barely missed her presence.
That was odd. Suddenly she had a thought that chilled her to the bones.
This had been way too easy.