Title: Unexpected Prospect

Author: CG

Feedback: Please.

Disclaimer: Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions. Nor do I own any lyrics or name brand used.

Summary: Unusually nervous to start a week, long op with Sark, Sydney discovers why her nerves act the way they do.

Rating: Will end up being R

Classification: Angst/Romance

Distribution: Sarkgasm, Dark Enigma, and Cover Me yes, all others please ask.

Chapter 1 -

Sitting behind his desk pondering her objection, Sloane took just a moment before he replied, "You're telling me that this is going to be a problem?"

Sydney stared at her boss in disbelief at what he was asking her to do. Throughout her many years of employment at SD-6, she had many a task that was uncomfortable and at best only questioned her values. She'd been shot at, had her face licked and tortured yes, but for some reason what Sloane was asking her to do went beyond that. Nothing came close to how awkward she felt with this newest op.

With her arms crossed in defense, she questioned, "Do you realize what you're asking me to do?" Her voice was almost at a whisper, to keep any unwanted outside attention to her concern. "There has to be another way."

Sloane eyed her curiously. He knew she had faced worse than this. He had seen the bruises, heard of the circumstances. Why this, why now? "To a person of your professional status and experience, I don't see the area of concern," he answered. "We need two people for this since the window of opportunity is so small and Dixon is currently working elsewhere. This is just another job there are no expectations to this façade besides getting what we want."

Feeling the pang of defeat knowing her objections were beginning to sound more trivial, Sydney bit her lip and accepted it. Not sure why she felt so uncomfortable about the trip, she picked up her brief bag and walked to leave his office. As she exited, she commented to herself, "Make sure you remind Sark of that too."

Walking toward the secured elevator, her thoughts were consumed with questions of the origin of her unsettled feelings. Was it that Sark was a proven enemy of SD-6 and CIA? Or could it be the fact that every time she looked up from her work, a meeting or anything else in office, he seemed to be fixated on her in some way. Maybe it was on occasion, she hesitantly admitted, when it was the other way around. Sark would catch her as she'd been purposely stealing a look. Distracted, she took the corner near the exit a little too fast and without paying any attention.

"Whoa," Sark said, as he placed his hand on her shoulder, stopping the collision between the two of them. "Better watch where you're going, Sydney."

The warmness of his hand penetrated through her suit jacket and shirt. She shrugged it off, but not before a noticeable amount of pause. "You should do the same," she warned, as she felt a flush rise to her face.

Just before she stepped to leave, Sark interjected, "So, do you want me to pick you up tomorrow morning then."

Sydney immediately snapped back, "You'll not come anywhere near my house."

Sark's eyes widen and Sydney noticed his lower lip doing that pouty thing it did the few times she had seen him amused. How she hated the fact she noticed it, and grew even more furious at the sight of his signature cocky smile.

"Ms. Bristow, I do hope you're going to be a bit more pleasant when we're husband and wife," he taunted, hoping to provoke her.

Narrowing her eyes in detest, Sydney gave no answer, just brushed by him, accidentally grazing his arm with hers. "Bastard," she muttered, and then proceeded to the exit.

Of all people, she questioned later that night while packing one of her suitcases, why him? Of all the things she could have been asked to do, why this?

 She rummaged through her nightclothes, trying to find the most suitable. Not an easy task when you had to choose between pairs of cotton pajama's with animals or skimpy solid colored cotton briefs with matching spaghetti strap tanks.

Years she had worked with Dixon, and maybe only a handful of times had she been disguised as a girlfriend. Now she was ordered to be the newlywed wife of SD-6's newly acquired possession, for a whole week no less. Stopping for just a moment, she recognized the odd feeling of nervousness as it took her.

Newlywed wife, she repeated, hoping to get used to it. What was worse was everything that went along with that title. Shared quarters, a week of acting as if she adored her partner, public displays of affection…

"Dear lord," she said aloud.

Lost in worry, she didn't hear Francie enter the room, "Two suitcases?" She complained to Sydney. "How long are they making you stay away this time?"

Sydney faced her and smiled, "If I'm lucky, only a week." She watched as Francie looked at her with disbelief. But before she could make any of the usual comments about continual travel, Sydney interrupted, "Please don't start, believe me I know too well I just got back from New York two days ago."

"You must be damn good at what you do Syd," Francie said, her voice laced with concern. "And you must enjoy it to take the crap they dish you."

Sydney laughed and disclosed, "Today's not the day to ask about the latter."

With sympathy in her voice, Francie ended the conversation. "Well Christmas is in less than two weeks, I hope they don't make you stay away for the holiday." Before Sydney could respond, Francie had exited.