"Hands up! Get your hands where I can see 'em!"On the ground, now, now!"Surrender or we'll shoot you!" The sound of eleven CIA agents penetrated Sark's ears. He looked around, instantly seeing what that all his escapes were cut off. He drew his gun, but saw it would be useless. His mind churned.

"I surrender!" he yelled, knowing resistance was futile. If he tried to shoot one, he'd have more holes in him than he could count.

A voice rose above the commotion. "Drop your gun. Put your hands behind your head and get on your knees." Sark obeyed.

As the agents handcuffed him, he tried to figure out how this had happened. How had they known he would be here, waiting? His mind rested on one answer, the only possible one. He had been betrayed. By Sydney Bristow.
Sydney only watched for a second in horror as she saw the agents with their guns pointed at Sark. But then she ran. She ran to her truck and gunned the engine, her wheels throwing out gravel in the back. She sped onto the highway, narrowly avoiding an accident. Not knowing where to go, not knowing if the CIA would find out she was near the area when they captured Sark, she decided to drive home and when Vaughn called, she would act as if it was a complete surprise.

It was all she could think of.
Back at the Pier, Sark was forced into the back of a secure van. Three agents sat around him, faces grim, guns in his face. He was mildly affronted at such an invasion of privacy, but other matters pressed. He kept tripping over his conclusion, that Sydney had betrayed him. How else could he have been captured? She was the only one who knew that he would be there.

Finally the van pulled to a halt. With even more guns in his face (he didn't bother to count), he was led out, walked across a short concrete driveway, and into a building. He was placed in a cell with four grey walls, a bed chained to the wall, and a glass wall separating the cell from the hallway. A bald man stood in front of the glass, looking proud of himself. Sark rose from the bed to address him.

"I have nothing that I care to say and no information to volunteer, except possibly under one circumstance," he stated firmly, his eyes boring deep into the other man's. The man looked down, disconcerted. But then he looked at Sark again and spoke, ignoring Sark's comment.

"I am Director Kendall. Mr. Sark, you are under custody of the United States government, though I'm sure you knew that already. You are going to be moved to another secure facility tomorrow. Do you have any questions?"

"Yes. I would like to be allowed to talk to Agent Bristow."

"Why?"

"I have some intel that might prove valuable to you. However, I will only give it to Agent Bristow."

The man turned. "Your request will be considered." He left.
Sydney pulled up in her driveway, slightly slower than she had been going down the highway. She hadn't gotten any tickets, thank goodness. As she unlocked the front door, she heard the phone ring. She grabbed the receiver on the fourth ring, just before the answering machine picked up.

"Hello?" she answered, only slightly out of breath.

"Joey's pizza?"

"No," she said politely, even though she was seething inside. She knew what the call was really for. "I think you have a wrong number."

"Sorry."

With a sigh, she got into her jogging clothes again.
"What's up?" she asked Vaughn when she reached the Operations Center. He had come out to meet her, a grin on his face.

"We captured Sark!"

"We captured Sark?" she reiterated, trying to sound confused. "How'd we do that?"

"He sent a message to an unknown third party. We intercepted the messenger yesterday morning. We didn't find out what was in the note at the time, but we did manage to plant a radioactive tracer on it. This morning the note was retrieved from a garbage bin. We didn't find out who he was intending to meet, but we did get him."

"Well." Sydney couldn't think of too much to say. "I guess that's... that's good."

Kendall walked up and interrupted their talk. "Agent Bristow, Mr. Sark has requested to speak with you. He said that he had some valuable intel that he would only talk to you about. I have decided to let you speak with him. Come with me."

"Yes, sir." For fear of causing suspicion, Sydney didn't let her opinions show through. She followed Kendall down the hall to where the cells were. The steel bars slid away as they walked past, the same as in Sydney's mother's cell. They came to the end.

"You have video surveillance," stated Kendall gruffly. "When you want to come out, all you have to do is look straight at that camera."

"Thank you." A chair was waiting for her, and she sat down in it without looking at Sark in the cell in front of her. Kendall left, the doors clanging shut behind him. Only after she was sure he was out of earshot did she lean forward.

"Hello, Sydney." Sark was the first to speak.

"Hello." Then, "In case you're wondering, we're only on video surveillance. The camera's behind me, on your left. So watch how you say things; I don't know if there's any lip-readers on staff."

"Oh. I suppose they trust you."

"Yes, they do."

"I don't."

Sydney stared at him in shock. What did he mean? Just a week before, they had trusted each other, she realized. And she still trusted him. "Sark, what are you talking about?"

He leveled his eyes at her. "I'm sure you don't know," he said sarcastically. "I'm sure you don't know that I trusted you to meet me this afternoon and instead you send your precious agency."

"No!" she cried. "I didn't do it! They told me they caught your messenger and planted a tracer on the message. I had no idea!"

Sark let his mask of uncaring slip aside. His blue eyes reflected his every thought clearly. "I thought I could trust you... but only because I-"

Sydney saw the look, the thought- she could tell what he was about to say, so she cut him off. "Don't!" she whispered fiercely. "Please! I- I don't think I could stand it." For what she had seen in his eyes was that he loved her. That he had loved her for a while, and now he thought she had betrayed him. Hurt floated in those crystal blue pools. Sydney steadied her breath and continued.

"If you say that, Sark, I will fall over right here and cry till I can't cry anymore. Please, believe me. I didn't betray you. I didn't."

"Goodbye, Sydney. I don't believe we have anything more to say. Your Director Kendall said I would be moved to another facility in the morning. We both know you can't come and visit. So, farewell." His mask slipped back into place, his eyes icy blue and hard again.

Tears filled her brown eyes, and she blinked them away. "Goodbye, Sark. I will never forget you," she whispered. But he had turned away.

Sydney walked back down the hallway, the doors clanging shut behind her. But she barely heard them over the breaking of her own heart. A single, unnoticed tear ran down her face.

She knew she would never see him again.

-

You never know how much you love a thing until you lose it;

And when it's gone, you wish for it back.

You may own all the treasures of the world,

But what you think of is what you lack.

-

A/N: Well, I've finally finished this! Took me long enough, didn't it? Thirty-five chapters... I must be insane. Oh, well. And to think this all came from a crazy thought last October of Sydney and Sark going on a blind date and Sydney singing 'Something There'.

Some notes: back in earlier chapters, like when Vaughn tells her she knows she can't trust her father, or she said that her mother was her worst enemy, I wrote those when that was the case. (Right after Sydney finds out about Project Christmas and her father's involvement, the explosive incident in Madagascar... you get the idea)

There are a few people who I need to thank for putting up with my author's ramblings about his story constantly: Mom, Dad and Derek, Melody (who better be reading this; tell me when you have next time I see you) Alex and Laura (who I hope are reading this) Jessica, Naomi, Corinne, Andrea, Mary Helen, and of course, the person I brought most of my ideas to and owe all of them to... Jesus. I love you all. Also thanks to all my faithful reviewers- you guys have encouraged me sooooo much. Really.

I'm working on a sequel to this story, which will hopefully be coming soon. You all will read it, won't you? And review it, like you're about to do with this one?

Okay, I know, there has to be a disclaimer. Here it is: Aliasisn'tmineitbelongstoJJAbrahms, initelymineohmanIwish.

THE END