Sarkney

Cheer_Chica

Cadet
Joined
Jan 2, 2005
“Excuse me? I’m going to be working with who?!?” Sydney demanded. Dixon sighed.

“I know, I know, he can’t be trusted. Yet you’ve worked with Irina under similar circumstances before when her intel was needed…it can’t be that different.”

“And where is she now?”

“Sydney, I trust him as little as you do, but in this case, the end justifies the means. Sark is the only one who can get us access into the facility to acquire the necessary documents.”

“There has to be some other way.”

“I’m afraid there isn’t in this case, not with the limited time that we have. He, of course, will not be armed and will be wearing a collar that you will be able to activate to give him a lethal injection, if necessary, just as was the case with your mother.” Sydney’s mouth thinned.

Great.

“You’ll be staying in the only safehouse we have in the area, a small one with only one room, but it should be enough. Be careful, Sydney.” Dixon looked into her eyes and she could see genuine concern there. Sydney sighed.

“I will.” She replied. This was turning out to be a wonderful weekend.

~~~~~ *~*~* ~~~~~

Sark smirked when he heard about the scheduled op.

I’m going to spend the entire weekend in the company of man’s greatest sexual fantasy.

Sounded like a worthwhile trip to him. He thought twice about that when Sydney roughly pushed him from the cell, then imperiously told him about the way things were going to run. When Sark tried to touch her, even on the arm, Sydney threw him off and hissed at him,

“Don’t. Touch. Me.” Glaring at him with sparks flying from her eyes.

She really would be more intimidating if she didn’t look so good when she’s angry.

~~~~~ *~*~* ~~~~~

Their flight was a silent one, with neither even glancing in the direction of the other. Their arrival at their new, cramped quarters was equally quiet, with only a raised eyebrow from Sark when he saw their shared bedroom, complete with bunk bed. Both of them exhausted, they immediately went to sleep.

~~~~~ *~*~* ~~~~~

Sark woke up in the middle of the night to hear Sydney tossing and turning on the bunk above him. Her movements were causing the bed to creak and she was moaning quietly in her sleep, words that only she could understand.

Bloody hell.

Sark groaned inwardly. Neither of them was going to get any sleep this way. Throwing off the covers, Sark stood, clad only in his boxers and collar, to look at Sydney sleeping on her top bunk.

Sydney was trapped in the same nightmare that had haunted her now for weeks. She was in the same claustrophobic, white-walled room as always, lying on a gurney. Sitting up, she checked the jagged scar on her stomach to find it open and oozing blood. Touching the gash, she feels rubber tubing and begins to pull on it. Faster and faster, Sydney pulls more and more rubber tubing out of her stomach, her crimson blood spattering the walls, becoming more and more frantic by the second.

Sark was struck by how beautiful Sydney looked, asleep in bed with a sliver of moonlight illuminating her face. The serenity of the moment was destroyed by her constant tossing and turning, her distressed, sweat-sheened face, her breath coming faster and faster until she was moaning and gasping for air in her sleep. Tentatively at first, then more boldly, Sark brought his hand forward and allowed his fingers to gently trace the planes of her face, so softly that she would have barely felt it, had she been awake. In any other man, his touch might have been considered a caress.

“Sydney,” he breathed, “Sydney, wake up.” Sydney’s only response was to become even more frantic, tossing so wildly that Sark feared she would fall off her bunk, especially since the cheap beds had no safety rails to keep the unwary sleeper from falling.

Sydney’s breathing escalated into short, quick gasps until finally she sat up in bed with a cry and tumbled off her bunk, straight into Sark’s arms. Sark easily caught her and cradled her in his arms, sitting down on his bunk. Sydney, disoriented and terrified from her dream, instinctively latched onto the only thing that was real to her right now, this man cradling her so carefully in his arms, her anchor to reality. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder, deep, wracking sobs shuddering through her body.

Warily, Sark tightened his arms around her and ran a comforting hand through her hair. When no negative response ensued, he stroked her back with his other hand, whispering to her softly.

“Shh, Sydney, it’s over now…” Sark well knew what kind of dreams their lifestyle inspired and the terror they could inflict. Sydney didn’t respond, crying as hard as ever, her breath coming in short, hiccuping gasps.

Sark felt a pang in his chest, of a kind that he hadn’t felt for a long time. Sydney was so strong, and yet it seemed that even she was vulnerable at times. Feeling protective and not knowing quite why, Sark slowly laid the two of them down on his bunk, his arms still wrapped around her and her face buried in his neck. Whispering to her comfortingly and stroking her soft skin, then her hair, Sark couldn’t help but notice how good she smelled.

Like…spicy vanilla, he thought and sighed. Sark started, suddenly. What was he thinking? What was he doing? This was the kind of thing little Boy Scout was for. Still, as he felt her sobs slowly begin to subside and the shaking of her body begin to diminish, he knew that there was no where else that he would rather be.

So this is what it feels like to be the ‘knight in shining armor’ type, for once, he thought. Feels…good. Sark pushed the thought away. Sydney would be no good on their op if she got no sleep.

Sleep, Sark thought, sounds good right about now, his eyelids getting heavy. Craning his neck to look at her face, Sark saw that Sydney was asleep, all worry lines smoothed out of her face, her breathing slow and regular. Knowing that if he stayed with her it would make things awkward in the morning, Sark couldn’t bring himself to move, indeed didn’t even want to. She looked so peaceful. Resting his cheek on her hair, Sark gave in to sleep, closing his eyes and drifting off.

~~~~~ *~*~* ~~~~~

When Sydney woke up in the morning, she was alone in Sark’s bed, confused.

Why am I in Sark’s bed? She wondered bemusedly, still dazed by sleep. I don’t remember sleeping that deeply since…wait…why am I in Sark’s bed?!? Wide awake now, Sydney turned over to see Sark sitting in a chair, fully dressed in his usual crisp, black suit, studying her. The almost contemplative look on his face was quickly replaced with his trademark smirk.

“Ms. Bristow, so good of you to wake up in time for our op.” He said, looking amused. Bewildered, Sydney blinked at him, only slowly remembering the events of last night and vaguely remembering having a nightmare and falling out of bed…to be caught by Sark.

Strange, she thought, but I almost remember being comforted after that, feeling…safe. Nah…she dismissed the thought. Must’ve still been dreaming…, peeking at Sark from beneath her lashes.

“If it’s not too much trouble, perhaps you might consider getting up and dressed instead of trying to look like some coquettish flirt.” Sark said coolly from his chair, still watching her.

Right, Sydney thought, definitely dreaming. Throwing off the covers she went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and prepare for the day.

~~~~~ *~*~* ~~~~~

Much later, Sydney stiffly walked into the cramped apartment, careful to move her arm as little as possible. She’d really done a number on her shoulder this time. Thankfully, it wasn’t broken, or even dislocated, but she knew that she had pulled and possibly even torn many of the muscles through her right shoulder and upper back. Now, hours later, she was so stiff that she could barely move her right arm without severe pain.

Firing a gun tomorrow should be interesting, she thought. Sark walked into the apartment behind her and made as if to offer to take her coat. Sydney glared at him fiercely and he shrugged nonchalantly as if to say, suit yourself then. Sark sat down in his chair to watch her, a smug grin on his face. Carefully, Sydney inched the coat off her body, trying not to wince in pain. After several agonizing minutes, she succeeded and hung her jacket on a hook.

“This is ridiculous,” Sark commented from the corner, now standing up. “At least allow me to help you get some mobility back so you can aim a gun tomorrow.”

“Back off,” Sydney hissed, “I can take care of myself.”

“Oh, I’ve never doubted that for a second, Ms. Bristow.” Sark replied, walking towards her now, trademark smirk firmly in place.

“I’m fine.”

“Compared to what, may I ask?” Sydney didn’t reply. When Sark came within arms reach of her Sydney backed away towards the wall.

“Don’t touch me.” Sark raised a blond eyebrow, his smug grin only growing. Carefully avoiding her hurt arm, Sark pinned Sydney against the wall, his hard body pressed up against hers.

“Not scared, are we?” Sark breathed in her ear. Sydney felt his warm breath on her neck and shivered. Pulling back, Sark looked deep into her eyes, his mouth only inches from hers.

“If I was an attacker, you would be dead by now, unable to fight back. Leave off your pride and accept my help.” Sark released her and retreated back to his corner. Sucking in a ragged breath, Sydney nodded, not sure if she accepted because of how much her shoulder hurt or because of how strikingly blue Sark’s eyes were.

For his part, Sark was surprised at his own reaction. Being so close to her, feeling her soft skin pressed up against him had been making his c*** start to grow hard and he had been sorely tempted to lower his mouth those few inches and press his mouth to hers.

Bloody hell.

What had gotten into him? No woman had ever been able to get inside his skin so easily, much less a woman who was barely an ally, best considered an enemy. His best bet was to consider her as just another agent, and sexless, rather than…damn. She was standing in front of him now, face downcast as she peeked up from beneath her lashes to resignedly ask him,

“What would you like me to do?” His c*** jumped in his pants. Her submissive posture, voice and words brought a number of things to mind, all of which would probably result in her punching him with her good arm if he suggested them.

This is going to take iron control.

“Lie on my bed, Sydney, I’m going to try to loosen up the muscles in your shoulder.” Catching his drift, Sydney looked up, a spark of mischief in her eyes. Carefully, slowly, she pulled her sweater over her head and tossed it aside. Now it was Sydney’s turn to smirk as she glimpsed the look on Sark’s face before he quickly replaced it with an emotionless mask. Sydney lay down on the bed, face down. Sark groaned inwardly.

More like a superhuman effort.

Straddling her body on the bed, Sark began to slowly massage Sydney’s neck, shoulders and upper back with his warm, strong hands. At first, Sydney’s body was stiff and unyielding and she let out an occasional gasp of pain as he reached an especially tight spot.

“Sydney,” Sark murmured, leaning down to speak in her ear, “this will be much easier if you relax.” Sark let his hands travel up to the base of her neck, slowly massaging with his thumbs and working his way down her collarbone area. Breath by breath, Sydney relaxed, succumbing to the feelings his hands were sending through her body. Against her will, Sydney breathed a small, contented sigh. Sark’s hands seemed to know all the right ways to touch her to take the pain away. As his fingers slowly massaged her right shoulder, Sydney involuntarily let escape an almost sexual moan of pleasure, marveling at how such a cold, calculating man could make her feel so wonderful.

It seems Ms. Bristow has finally let her guard down, Sark smirked. His c***, already hard in his pants, grew to the point of unbearable when he heard her breathy little moan. Unable to keep from imagining her moaning his name in that same voice, in a much more sexual situation, his eyes darkened and his breath became slightly ragged.

“Sydney,” Sark murmured in her ear again,

“Mmm?” She replied, lost in the sensations he was causing.

“Time to turn over.” Without hesitation, Sydney turned over onto her back and suddenly became very aware of the position they were in. Sark was now straddling her hips, leaning down on top of her, supporting his weight on his elbows. His hard-muscled body was pressed against hers and as she looked up to meet his eyes, she found him looking hungrily back, lust darkening the normally icy blue of his eyes. Heat flashed through her body and the next second his mouth was pressed to hers, kissing her hard and to her surprise, she found herself kissing him back. One of Sark’s hands became entangled in her hair and Sydney’s hands found their way up Sark’s shirt, roaming over his muscled back. Tugging his shirt off, Sydney was surprised at her actions and momentarily taken aback. As Sark’s lips began a scorching trail down her neck, to her collarbone and lower, Sydney quickly forgot any inhibitions and let herself go completely.

Sark quickly unlatched her bra and let it drop to the floor, then lowered his mouth to her breasts. Kissing, nibbling and sucking, Sark traveled across both of her breasts, avoiding her nipples completely. Sydney’s breath was coming in short gasps now, wanting his mouth on her nipples, uncaring of anything else. When Sark finally licked her right nipple roughly with his tongue, she arched her back up into him, getting as close as she could.

“Sark…” She moaned, causing him to grow even harder at the sound of her breathy voice. Moaning into his mouth as Sark kissed her once more, reveling in the feel of his bare skin pressed against hers, Sydney lost herself in the moment and began tugging hastily at his belt buckle.

Suddenly, the sound of Sark’s phone ringing sounded through the room. Both Sark and Sydney jumped, looking almost guilty, before Sark hastily climbed off her to answer the phone. A noticeable tent in his pants, Sark glanced at her while talking and then quickly turned away, grabbing his jacket and walking out of the room.

***To be continued*** (If I get a good response, that is ;) )
 

Cheer_Chica

Cadet
Joined
Jan 2, 2005
Thanks guys! That's actually the first fanfiction I've ever written so I was wondering what people thought...
For those os you who asked for a PM, sure! I'll try to make it soon!
~ Cheer_Chica :D
 

cattyline

Cadet
Joined
Apr 29, 2004
Location
Ireland
that was HOT!!!!!!!!!!!!! :P definitly continue. i want to know what happens. and the next time you update could you please PM me. thankx.
 

Cheer_Chica

Cadet
Joined
Jan 2, 2005
Alright, here goes! Tell me what you think;)

~~~~~*~*~*~~~~~

Sydney, dressed in a flirtatiously low-cut, slinky black dress and high heels, was scanning the grand ballroom they were in with her eyes as she let her hand rest on Sark’s arm. They were waiting for the guards to switch so they could take their chance and get down a red-roped off hallway. The safe with the Rambaldi object they needed to collect was down there.

“Are you always this tense? You really need to learn to relax, Ms. Bristow,” Sark murmured in her ear. Sydney could feel his warm breath against her neck.

“Stop that!” Sydney hissed back at him. Uncomfortable, Sydney shook him off and began to walk away across the ballroom.

“I don’t think so,” Sark replied in an undertone and grabbed her arm in a grip of steel, pulling her close. “We have to play this out. Stop drawing attention to yourself!” Looking up into his icy blue eyes, his face inches from hers, Sydney’s breath caught in her throat. Damn, he may be an arrogant prick, but he sure looked good!

Sark smirked, “Now that’s more like it.” Sydney scowled. “Bastard!” She muttered under her breath.

“What was that?” Sark once again bestowed his trademark smirk upon her. Sydney smiled sweetly.

“Why, nothing, sweetheart!” Both of them knowing that she was imagining putting him through some very creative forms of torture.

Both Sark and Sydney noticed the guards moving at the same time. Stealthily, they made their way to the forbidden hallway and sprinted around the temporarily unguarded corner, unnoticed by the security cameras they had dealt with earlier.

Finding the safe behind a picture frame, Sydney quickly got to work on cracking it using one of her many lipsticks from the Marshall-line. Sark was typing furiously at a computer, trying to see what information he could find. Without looking up or taking a break from his steady stream of typing, Sark commented,

“You really are so good, you know that, don’t you?”

“10 more seconds till the safe’s open…and…done. Ok, we’re in” Sydney replied. Sark finished at the computer and walked up behind her. Close enough that his warm breath tickled her ear, Sark whispered to her,

“I always knew we’d work well together.”

“I’ve got the box. Let’s go.” Sydney responded coolly, ignoring his comments. Smirking, Sark began walking towards the exit. On her way past him, Sydney turned quickly, hitting him rather hard in the groin with her hand.

“Oops! Sorry!” Sydney said sweetly, grinning. Waves of debilitating nausea were flowing over Sark, but he would be damned if he was going to show it.

“Keep moving.” He said through gritted teeth. Bloody woman!

~~~~~ *~*~* ~~~~~

Late that night. When they got back to the safehouse, Sydney collapsed on the bottom bunk in the room. Sighing blissfully now that she was finally off her feet and lying down, Sydney closed her eyes.

“Really, Ms. Bristow, if you wanted to sleep in my bed, all you had to do was ask.” Sydney’s eyes flew open to see Sark smirking at her.

“You wish.” Sydney grumbled as she rolled off the bed to her feet. Sark grabbed her wrist and pulled her close to him, looking deep into her eyes. Slowly, his eyes never leaving hers, he brought his mouth down and softly kissed her lips. Sydney was surprised at the tenderness of his kiss. Slowly, methodically, exactly the way that she had always imagined Sark would kiss…not that she’d ever imagined kissing him! Sark coaxed her mouth open just far enough that he could slip his tongue in to stroke hers. Involuntarily, Sydney’s hands went up around his neck to bury themselves in his hair and Sark’s arms wrapped tightly around her, holding her close. As Sydney let out a ragged breath, she became aware of what she was doing.

“Stop.” She whispered and roughly pushed him away, hands on his chest.

Sark didn’t move. Solid as a rock, she pushed right off of his body and accidentally threw herself backward towards the bunk. Sark caught her arms before she fell and pulled her back to her feet, wrapping an arm around her.

“Oh no, Ms. Bristow…I believe that you are the one who wishes you could sleep in my bed tonight…” Sark breathed seductively into her ear. Trying and failing to push him away once more, Sydney hissed,

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Sark grinned. An actual, real grin and he looked at her with mischief in his eyes.

“Oh, I don’t? Really, now, I’m hurt Ms. Bristow. I always know exactly what I’m talking about.” With that, Sark swept her feet out from under her with his leg and lowered her onto his bunk, beneath him. Pinning her wrists above her head with one hand, Sark kissed her passionately and allowed his other hand to roam across her breasts. Sydney tensed. Breaking the kiss, she glared up into his eyes.

“You don’t affect me.” Sark smirked. That sounded almost like a challenge…oh, she was in for it now.

Sydney was confused. She knew this man was evil and yet…he could make her body react so strongly! Where had her iron control gone? Shifting under him, Sydney suddenly felt some hard evidence proving that she wasn’t the only one affected by the situation. Grinning inwardly, Sydney decided to test Sark’s powers of self-control. Purposefully allowing a sexual moan of pleasure to escape her lips, Sydney shifted again, rubbing her thigh against his crotch, hard.

Caught off guard, Sark paused in his actions. A thrill shot through him straight from his c***, causing his eyes to close, his whole body to tense and his breath to catch in his throat. The moan that came from Sydney’s throat sent a shiver through his body.

Sydney giggled smugly. Oh, he was in for it now! Hearing her giggle, Sark broke out of his lust-induced trance and realized what was going on.

“Not so fast,” he murmured and lowered his mouth to hers once again, kissing her hard. Sark slipped one hand down her dress to rub her breasts as he allowed his other to slip the skirt, sliding his fingers slowly up her inner thighs to her surprisingly wet panties. Inwardly, Sark grinned smugly. She may have had the upper hand for a moment, but he wasn’t going to give up so easily! Keeping her distracted with his kisses, Sark pulled down her panties and stroked her hot, wet lips with his middle finger.

“Ohh…Sark…” This time, the moan Sydney let out was involuntary. Sark’s thumb found her clit as his index and middle fingers began an inexorable rhythm sliding in and out of her. Unable to help herself, Sydney’s hips bucked against his hand, her breath coming in short gasps.

“No…Sark, we can’t be doing this! I…” Abruptly, Sark stopped the motion of his fingers and looked down at her.

“You really want me to stop?” Sark whispered, his voice slightly raspy. As she was about to answer, “yes”, of course, Sark curled his fingers that were still inside of her and stroked her insides in small circles.

“I…” Sark brushed her clit lightly with his thumb. Sydney’s whole body jerked and she arched her back, unable to keep from moaning. Sark smirked. That’s what he thought. Sark lowered his mouth to hers as her breathy pleas became increasingly incoherent and he sped up the rhythm of his fingers and thumb. Sydney’s breath was coming fast and short in her lungs now and she felt as if her whole body was on fire. His touch did things to her that no one else’s did or ever could. Not wanting to think about that, Sydney allowed herself to be carried over the edge, her whole body tensing and moaning Sark’s name as she came.

“God.” She whispered after she came down from her high.

“I appreciate it, but really, Sark is fine.” Sark grinned smugly, looking excessively pleased with himself.

Sydney grinned. “Bastard.” She muttered. Sark smiled – actually smiled – and opened his mouth to reply, when once again his phone rang.

Bloody hell.

Sark reluctantly climber off of her. A huge bulge visible in his pants, Sark picked up the phone and glanced at her while talking, then quickly turned away, grabbing his jacket and walking out of the room.

“Wow,” Sydney thought, “Déjà vu…”

~~~~~*~*~*~~~~~

Was it any good? What did you think?
 
Joined
Mar 15, 2004
Eeee! Can I please get a PM when you update...and update soon please?! I like the character interaction - especially when hidden personality traits come out. Can't wait for more!

Kate
 
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