Sorry, guys, it's short and not all banter-ly. It's late and I'm sleepy but I wanted to post *something* for my nice readers. More soon.  Thanks for the feedback!

--part 5d point one--

"May second."

"What's that?" Sydney asked as Sark breezed past her into the hotel room.

He made no move towards the bedroom; instead he sat down in one of the anteroom's overstuffed arm chairs. Sydney shut the door and locked the deadbolt before turning to Sark expectantly.

"So what's happening on May second?" She asked again, exasperated.

He waited until she had settled herself comfortably in the chair opposite. Her legs draped lazily over one side and her face tilted towards him with unconcealed interest.

"It's the date of my birth. The colloquial term, I believe, would be birthday. Unlike you, I expect scads of presents at my feet positively flaunting your adoration of my most deserving person."

She blushed and looked upward. "It would have been weird to tell you. Like saying, hey, tomorrow pay lots of attention to me."

"Well, I just told you. "

She rolled her eyes at him, "Yeah, and that didn't feel strange at all."

He caught her gaze and held it. "No, it didn't feel strange at all."

"Right," she swung her legs back over the chair and stood abruptly. "So I've ordered three movies but you can have the final say."

"I always do." He stood and moved close to her, ostensibly looking at the DVD cases.

"Don't read over my shoulder," she protested. It was a feeble, token protest made out of habit more than annoyance so he moved even closer letting her hair brush over his chin.

"The Bourne Identity? Moonraker? XXX?" Because he stood behind her, Sydney couldn't tell but she was certain he was smirking. "Well, if it weren't for that last title I'd think we had a theme."

"Shut up, Sark. That's a spy movie, too."

He plucked it out of her hands and arched his eyebrows suggestively. "Are you sure it's not a little something from your private collection that slipped in? Subconsciously?"

She tried to grab it back but he successfully kept her at arm's length. Finally, she pulled away and crossed her arms.

He smirked. "Are you pouting, Agent Bristow?" You can get shot and not cry, but I take your filthy movie away and you sulk? That's your weakness? It's precious."

"It's not porn," she said stubbornly.

He made an insulting noise.

She opened her mouth to yell but he quickly moved forward and popped something into her mouth before she could strike him.

"Ish shocklit," Sydney looked at him suspiciously and slurred around a mouthful of candy. She shivered and closed her eyes, "Good shocklit."

"Eat with your mouth closed, Sydney," Sark said as put down the DVD case. He removed a long cardboard box from beneath his coat. "The confiserie was the only concession open at this late hour. I couldn't very well turn up without a gift for my beautiful, if perverted, hostess, could I? Not after I forgot her birthday because someone failed to inform me of the occasion?"

She sat beside him on the carpet, swallowed and gracelessly demanded, "I want another one."

He looked her up and down, "What will you give me?"

Surprisingly, she laughed. "Oh, please. That was bad, even for you. And you get away with a lot because of the accent."

"You shouldn't leave your mouth open like that." He stuck another chocolate between her lips and she let him push it forward to drop onto her tongue.

He purred, "So the accent does it for you?

She nodded and a soft look graced her face. "I like men with accents."

"Oh." He knew exactly what she was thinking of even though they had never discussed her late fiance. He leaned back against the chair, propping the box of chocolates in his lap. He caught her attention by dangling a champagne truffle in front of her. He let his voice take a playful tone, "I propose an exchange. If you answer one of my questions, I'll feed you a chocolate."

"Feed? Couldn't you just hand it to me and I could feed myself?"

He shook his head. "Take it or leave it."

She huffed for a second before shuffling closer, "Fine, but it's only because that's very good candy."

"Note to self regarding Sydney Bristow's weaknesses. Porn and fine Swiss chocolate. Keep on person at all times." He paused. "Favorite weapon?"

"My hands."

"Good answer." Sark grinned broadly and she scowled at him. With his left hand, he fed her a third chocolate and she nipped at his finger with his teeth. His grin became even wider so she bit down.

"Unless you want an off-color comment on what that little bite insinuates about your behavior in the bedroom, you should stop." He looked at her with mock sternness and she returned his hand. "That's my girl. Next question, favorite body part?"

"On me? Or on other people?"

"On you."

Sydney looked relieved. "My feet. They're not the smallest, most delicate things ever but I like them. They're well-shaped."

She stretched her legs out so he could inspect her feet.

"They're lovely," he said. "Very proportional."

She slapped him lightly on the arm. "Gimme my candy."

He chuckled but gave her a butter cream, gently brushing his thumbtip against her cheek.

"What's your favorite body part on me?"

"I'll pass. No candy is worth that."

"I won't tease. Cross my heart."

"You don't have a heart," she grumbled but moved her face close to his. She squinted and pursed her lips in a great show of concentration. She moved back and said, "I guess you have nice feet, too."

He fed himself a chocolate. "You have to tell the truth. I already promised I wouldn't nettle you about it. Not a snicker, not a smirk. I'll tell you my favorite part of your body if it will make you feel more comfortable."

"Sark," she said softly. "Come on, don't do this."

She had a point. He relented. "Alright, so my next question is rather thought-provoking. Prepare yourself. If you were a vegetable, what would you be?"


He looked at her in confusion.

"I like broccoli," she said defensively. "It's a perfectly respectable vegetable. I think it's delicious."

"So you'd cannibalize yourself? I always knew you were an odd one but that's downright petrifying."

She stuck out her tongue and he placed a chocolate on it.

"Next question: If you were a color, what would you be?"

"Sark," looked at him straight-faced. "If I'm broccoli, I must be green."

He shook his head with laughter, "I suppose I should have known better. I wasted a perfectly good question."

She winked at him before opening her mouth and letting him feed her another chocolate.

"Well, there's only one left" he said. "Last question: Would you want me to tell you my real name?"

She paused before meeting his eyes. "No."


auchic is completely to blame for the chocolate.