Apr 10, 2003
Title: Rebound
Author: kate_jones (that would be me)
Rating: PG-13, just to be safe
Disclaimer: Okay, you caught me. I’m not actually kate_jones, I’m JJ himself, so I realy do own Alias and Sydney and Vaughn and all the other characters. So there. :P Kidding, kidding.
Summary: This is set after the Nemesis takes place. Vaughn and Syd are having issues, Sark and Allison are having issues. There are a lot of issues. And I’m sorry to all of you S/V shippers, but we all need a little Sarkney every once in a while.

Part One:


The barrel of the gun was cold against Sark’s bare neck, causing a small shiver down his spine. What was even worse was the woman standing in front of him, hands on her hips and a pitying smile on her face.

“Allison?” he said quietly, asking her to explain, silently begging for pity.

“I’m sorry, hon, but it’s you or me” she said coldly, looking his straight in the eye. “Don’t look at me like that, what did you expect? I haven’t seen you in two full years. I work for the Covenant now and they don’t need you around anymore” she explained looking away from his hurt eyes and examining her candy-apple nails.

“You b****” he spat angrily, struggling to free his hands. Below the sleeves of his tuxedo jacket, the rope chafed his skin.

Allison frowned, crossing her arms in front of her, and then decided to ignore his outburst and gave him an evil smile.

“You trusted me too quickly, Adrian. Such a sentimental boy. It’s ironic, really, that such a hardened criminal could have such a soft spot for-“

Shots rang out and Sark gasped as Allison’s floor-length black gown was covered in blood. As she fell, Sark went into action. He swung his leg back to fell the man with the gun to his head. Another shot, and the man was no longer a problem. Sark turned from the two bodies and saw Sydney Bristow running towards him, gun in hand.

“Run!” she hissed, slicing his bonds and pulling him along with her. Sark didn’t hesitate, but started to sprint beside his nemesis.

“They’re gaining on us,” Sydney panted, pulling harder on the sleeve of his tux. Her low-cut satin dress whipped around her legs and her updo was quickly coming undone. “We’re going to be caught!”

Looking at her, Sark replied, “Not necessarily.” He stopped abruptly, catching her bare wrist and pulling her into a corner of the hallway. He pressed his body against hers, muffling her protest by clapping a hand over her mouth. He pinned her arms to her sides and whispered, “Cooperate, will you? They haven’t seen me, so if you hide your face they won’t recognize us. They’re coming.” Sydney heard footsteps coming down the hallway, along with shouts of “Dov’e? Dov’e? Where is she?” She closed her eyes tightly and tried to forget who she was with, though his jacket smelled awfully good.

“Talk about the Axe Effect”, Sydney thought to herself. Then Sark’s lips were touching hers and she forgot everything. Her arms snaked around his neck and his right hand slid up her thigh. The couple barely noticed the guards who were slowing down as they passed. Sydney melted into the heat of his kiss and opened her mouth to let him devour her, but he pulled away, delivering small kisses along her jaw bone. Frustrated she lowered her head to catch his mouth again, her tongue tracing the edges of his lips. He smiled at her forwardness and ignored her silent request.

Slowly, she blinked her eyes open and noticed that a) the guards were long gone b) her gun was no longer in her hand and c) that Sark was kissing her neck. Immediately, she shoved him off and looked to see if she had dropped her gun while they were “hiding”.

“Looking for this, Agent Bristow?” Sark smirked, dangling the gun in front of her. She glared at him, assessing her options. Smiling at her look, he said, “Looks like you won’t be taking me back to the CIA for show and tell. Sorry.” Fixing his tie, which had mysteriously been loosened while with Sydney, he tucked the gun in his jacket pocket and started to walk away. As Sydney thought about her options and smoothed her dress, she saw him turn around to add, ”Oh and Bristow? You might want to fix your lipstick before your precious handler sees you’ve been kissing someone else.”

“You SOB!” she muttered angrily, smoothing her wrinkled dress. Since she was unarmed, all she could do was call for backup or fight him for the gun, which by this point she was not up for. “Don’t be so cocky Sark, it wasn’t much of a kiss” she called to him.

“Excuse me for being a gentleman,” he replied from the other end of the hallway, then disappeared into an elevator. Standing in the elevator, the gravity of the situation finally crashed on him. His girlfriend, who had apparently never loved him, was dead. Again. His heart was breaking. Allison was right, he had been too emotional. And he had just kissed Sydney Bristow, which was a whole other emotion problem. However, she had been willing to do more than kiss in that hall-

*ding* The elevator door opened and Sark groaned at the sight before him.

Sark regarded the woman who stepped into the elevator. Brown ringlets pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck, a low cut red dress hanging off her slim shoulders and showing off her figure, perfect make-up and fresh lipstick, and a pair of very cold brown eyes.

“Agent Bristow, that was quick. That’s quite an impressive skill – applying lipstick while running. Want me to mess it up again?” he said with a grin, trying to mask his surprise and uncertainty as to what he should do.

“You saved me. Why?” she asked, pushing him back into the elevator.

“You saved me, I saved you. End of story” he replied honestly. “Up or down?”

Sydney frowned, not believing that he could be that fair. “Allison wants me dead. Up.”

“True. And what would make her angrier than you being alive? Unless perhaps someone else killed you first…Don’t reach for your gun like that, I’m joking. Ah, we’re back in the basement again” he said, all with his trademark smirk on his face.

“Weiss, I shot Allison…yes, again. And tell Vaughn I’ve got Sark” Sydney said into her diamond bracelet, smiling coldly at him.

“S***, Sydney” he yelled as she pulled out her gun.

“Looks like I’ll have something for show and tell after all, Sark.” Sydney said smugly as Vaughn and a backup team ran down the hallway.


Please R&R!


Apr 10, 2003
Interesting, eh? Is that a good thing? ^_^ Well, I'll post the next part tomorrow, and I promise it will be more Syd and Vaughn than this. I guess anything would be more S/V than this...


Apr 10, 2003
Okay, even though nobody is reading this I might as well post the next chapter. -_- Here goes.

Part 2


“Sydney, please don’t act like this” he pleaded, grabbing her hand as she tried to walk away.

She snatched her hand away, staring at him. “What exactly are you after, Vaughn? You’re a married man, remember? I’m sorry if this is hard for you and I’m sorry that you had to bury me and I’m sorry Dixon is making you keep secrets from Lauren, but this-“ she said, gesturing between them “-isn’t going to make it better. You gave up on me… And that’s something I can forgive you for, but I can’t forget.”

“I love Lauren, you know I do. But I want things to be like they were before you disappeared” he explained.

“Before I disappeared? You mean when we were sleeping together? Or before that, when we just wanted to?” Sydney asked sarcastically.

“Syd, don’t overreact. I just don’t want you to be miserable every time you see me” Vaughn said.

Sydney scoffed. “Get over yourself. I don’t want you to be in my life anymore. I will work with you because we work well together, but I. Am. Over. You.” she said slowly, punctuating each word. Then she turned and walked away quickly, before he could see her tears.


“Agent Bristow.”

“Morning” was the reply. “I hope your cell isn’t too different from how you left it a month ago.”

“You’re surprisingly happy today. Did your lovesick handler finally promise to leave his new wife?” Sark asked, making no move to stand up from the bed.

Sydney looked angry for a moment, then decided to dismiss his barb. “He’s not my handler anymore, and I wouldn’t want him to leave his wife. I happen to have a lot of respect for her” she lied. “However, none of that pertains to what I’m here for. Don’t try your mind games with me.”

“Do you mean you didn’t just come here to gloat?” Sark asked, gazing through the glass wall of his cell at her.

“I want to know where Derevko is. Our past experiences would suggest that in your little vacation this past month, you may have been in contact with her” Sydney said cooly.

Sark stood up and slowly walked towards the glass. “Miss Bristow. I understand your ongoing, angst-filled search for your mother, but I have no idea where she is. Sorry.” He turned to walk back to the bench where he had been sitting.

“I don’t believe you” she said.

He turned around and looked at her. “Miss Bristow, I’m shocked. After all we’ve been through and you still don’t trust me?” he asked with mock horror.

Sydney rolled her eyes. “I’m asking you nicely, Sark. My superiors won’t be as kind.”

“Was that a threat?” he asked, his face one foot away from the glass. “Imagine a nice girl like you threatening a helpless man.” Sydney said nothing, only looked at him, bored. “You know… Allison is probably recovered by now. She’ll be looking for you.”

“Probably. But she won’t be looking for you, will she?” Sydney shot back, her face unchanging. Any feelings of camaraderie she had felt for Sark a few days earlier were long gone, replaced with the familiar dislike.

Sark glared at her. For a few moments they stared at eachother through the glass, neither one wanting to back down. “I might know something about your mother” he admitted slowly. “But I’ll need to go with you if you want to find her.”

Sydney raised an eyebrow at his request. “I’ll see what I can do” she said as she walked away from the cell.

Sark’s jaw dropped. They had just captured him and already they were going to just let him go again? He had thought Sydney would laugh when he said he wanted to go but instead she was going to go to the director. “Women.” he muttered as he sat down on his cot, shaking his head.


Apr 10, 2003
Okay, thanks for all the replies. Here's the next part - I hope you like.

Part 3


“Absolutely not.”

Sydney sat back in one of the uncomfortable chairs in Dixon’s office. She had gone to him to ask if Sark could be let out to go on a mission with her, something which apparently was not going to happen. “But-“ she started again.

“I’m sorry” he said, standing up from his desk, “I just can’t let you do it. Letting Sark out of jail and taking him to Irina Derevko? We just can’t afford to do that.”

“Dixon, I need to find her” Sydney pleaded. “I understand that there’s a risk, but I need his help on this one. He won’t be able to contact her from inside the CIA. I’ve gone on missions with him before, at SD-6, so that won’t be a problem.”

Dixon stopped pacing and leaned on his desk. “Maybe if it were a small mission or something, but not this. We don’t even know if Derevko is alive anymore! Who knows how long this could take? I’m concerned for your safety, not to mention my job if Sark gets out of hand.”

“What if we do a retrieval op first?” Sydney asked, grasping at straws, “There has to be something that the CIA wants to get from the bad guys. We’ll just go in and out, quick as possible… Dixon, I need his help. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s our ticket to a lot of things, assuming he’s willing.”

Dixon sighed. “Okay” he said slowly. “The CIA has been after a man named Ahmad Kabir, remember him?”

“Yes, he was responsible for those people burning in Mexico City a few years ago.” Sydney said, remembering the unpleasant experience.

Dixon nodded. “Well, Echelon picked up a conversation regarding that Rambaldi device, and we want to make sure that Kabir doesn’t use it again. Sloane was the one who gave it to him, so you and Sark will go in and retrieve it. Sark will have a passive tracker implanted, and we will tell as few people as possible about this, understood?’ he asked, giving her a warm smile.

Sydney smiled widely. “Thanks, Dixon. It’ll be fine.” She said as she walked to the door. Pausing, she added “Don’t worry.”


“That’s it, I’m not wearing this” Sydney announced. She and Sark had just arrived in their hotel room in Glasgow and were getting ready to find Kabir. Unfortunately, he was another businessman who enjoyed clubs, so Sydney’s outfit was somewhat less than professional. She had taken one look at Sark’s reaction to her new look and decided to change.

“What? Wh-why?” Sark stammered, trying to keep his eyes on her face.

Sydney stopped to glare at him from behind new red bangs. “Because these costumes they give me make me look cheap. I hate when men have that reaction. How come you get to wear a nice suit and I have to look like this?”

Sark, who had by now managed to lift his jaw off the floor, smirked at this last comment. “Sorry, Agent Bristow. I don’t think I would fit into one of your little outfits.”

“Well, at least take off the tie. We’re going to a club, not the opera” she said, walking over to him.

“No, I like the tie!” he replied stubbornly. “Sydney – hey!” he yelped as she pulled the tie over his head.

Smiling sweetly she said, “I win. You look much better now. Not as casual as me, but…”

Fixing his shirt, he asked with a smile “Thanks. But don’t you like it when men like me appreciate your beauty?”

Sydney stopped pulling on the baby blue skirt to give him another look and said, “Don’t even try to charm me Sark. I think our “relationship” is beyond that.” Finally giving up on making the miniskirt cover her thighs, she smoothed her hair and pulled her coat from beside him on the bed.

As she picked it up, he whispered flirtily in her ear, “And just what is our relationship at right now, Agent Bristow?” She involuntarily shivered at the warm breath on her neck and he tried not to laugh.

She straightened, blushing slightly, and replied, “Our relationship is this: You work for me. I am in charge here. We’re not friends, we’re not going to be more than friends and I would appreciate it if you acted like a gentleman.”

At this, Sark stood up and helped her with her coat. Holding her arms for a moment, he whispered again, “Got it, ‘alpha male.’ So you want to be more than friends, do you?”

She elbowed him and walked out the door, trying to hide her frustration at the fact that she had apparently misread his intentions regarding her. She called behind her in a British accent “Come on, darling. We don’t want to be late. And try to behave yourself.”

Sark laughed at how she covered her embarrassment as he caught up with her, holding her hand when they walked out of the hotel. This trip was going to be a lot of fun. At least for him.


Jun 18, 2003
hehe! this fic is humorous! i dont exactly like the sark/syd thing goin on but i still love the stuff ur writing! can i get a pm when u update? thanks! great work! luvs~Sarah


Apr 10, 2003
Well, here's the next part. This is my favorite chapter, although I'm kinda bummed that like no one is reading this. But oh well, I hope you guys like this next part!^_^

Part 4

Sydney plastered her spy smile on her face as she and Sark walked into the crowded club. Holding hands once again, they wove through the dance floor to a spiral staircase, leading them to the second floor where the bar was. Sydney, motioned for Sark to go to the bar and they parted. Standing at the balcony overlooking the dancers, she scanned the crowd looking for Ahmad Kabir, not expecting him to be among the young dancers. She laughed to herself at the mental picture of him trying to shuffle around to the hip hop that was blaring.

“Something amusing, love?” Sark asked her, returning to her side and handing her a drink.

Sydney smiled and sipped the drink he offered, masking her surprise at the contents of what she thought was a coke. “Nothing at all. Shall we go downstairs?” she asked. As he turned towards the stairs, she took his arm and asked quietly, “trying to get me drunk, Mr. Sark?”

He laughed and nodded, replying, “Just trying to get you to loosen up, love.” They reached the bottom of the stairs, both quickly surveying the large room for any sign of Kabir.
“Notice anything, darling?” Sydney asked him. She nodded her head towards some table which were set up in a corner of the room.

“No one of interest, love. But I do believe that skirt is getting shorter by the second” Sark asked, smiling at her and silently daring her to get angry. Knowing that she couldn’t respond without causing attention, she resorted to pinching his arm as hard as she could.

She laughed at his face as he too tried not to blow up at her. Then her smile faded as she spotted Kabir at a table in the corner. Through the fake smoke and flashing lights she could see that he was sitting with his arms around two young girls. She rolled her eyes and elbowed Sark.

“Ten o’clock” she said quietly.

He casually looked to his left and nodded. Looking back at her, he asked “Well, are we going to dance?”

Sydney turned to look at him so quickly her neck hurt. “Excuse me?” she asked, an incredulous look on her face. She knew that they had to pretend they were together, but by the look on his face he was enjoying tormenting her.

Sark raised an eyebrow at her. He was indeed enjoying watching her face as she tried to figure out what to do. “We can’t just stand here watching him, can we? I happen to like this song that’s just coming on” he explained.

Norah Jones’ voice was starting to float through the room and people were coupling off to dance together. Sark held his hand out to Sydney, who allowed herself to be led to the dance floor. Holding herself as stiff as possible, she placed her arms around his neck and tried to ignore his hands on the small of her back.

I tried so hard, my dear, to show
that you're my every dream
Yet you're afraid each thing I do
Is just some evil scheme

Sark whispered in her ear, “Relax, Sydney. I won’t bite.” She looked up at him and was blown away by the warm look in his eyes. She had never seen him look at anyone with such kindness. Melting into him, she wrapped her arms tighter around his neck.

A memory from your lonesome past
keeps us so far apart
Why can't I free your doubtful mind
and melt your cold, cold heart?

Sydney smiled and rested her cheek on his shoulder, enjoying the feeling of having a man’s arms around her. It didn’t even matter to her anymore that it was Sark. She was revelling in the feeling that someone wanted her, whoever it was. He too was loving every second of it, although he was trying his hardest to remember that this was the enemy who was pressed up against him.

Another love, before my time,
made your heart sad an' blue,
and so my heart is paying now
for things I didn't do

As they swayed to the soft music, Sydney raised her head to look at him. Her eyes focussed now on his lips. He was nervously biting the lower one, adding to the crooked effect that she was starting to find adorable. The drink that she had had earlier was starting to catch up with her as she felt herself suddenly wanting to kiss him more than anything. Leaning up to capture his lips, she gazed at him from beneath heavy lids.

In anger, unkind words are said
that make the teardrops start
Why can't I free your doubtful mind
And melt your cold, cold heart?

Sark moved his head at just the right moment. “Sydney-“ he said. “Sydney, we’re enemies. Remember that when this is over we will once again be trying to kill eachother. I have a lot of respect for you and I find you very attractive, but you have to know that when the time comes I will not hesitate to take you down.” Sydney nodded.

There was a time when I believed
that you belonged to me
but now I know your heart is shackled
to a memory

“I wouldn’t expect any less” she replied. “And I don’t care. None of that matters now. Could we just forget everything for a few minutes?” Sark looked at her for a moment, desperately wanting to forget who this beautiful woman wrapped in his arms was, but shook his head. He knew better than to get involved with anyone, let alone the enemy. Look what had happened with Allison. However, Sydney was looking so hurt that his heart almost broke before he remembered that he wasn’t supposed to care.

The more I learn to care for you
the more we drift apart
Why can't I free your doubtful mind
and melt your cold, cold heart?

As the song’s last bars played, Sark said “Never mix business with pleasure, Bristow. Besides, you’re using this… using me to forget your problems in L.A., which I will not stand for. And- oh, Kabir is leaving” he interrupted himself.

Sydney looked at him for a second, before bringing herself back to reality and kicking into spy mode.

“You ready?” he asked her, wanting to make sure that she was okay before they went chasing after a dangerous terrorist. Any wrong move could get both of them killed.

“I’m always ready” she replied without emotion. She saw his worried look and gave him a quick smile to reassure him. “Let’s go.”
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