Title: Sanctity
Rating: PG
Timeline: Through 3.05
Disclaimer: The character and Alias universe
belong to JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.
Summary: Post Tainted.Written for amylud for the Secret Sarkfic Santa Project.
He wasn't sentimental about much these days, but something about this night had driven him to seek the ritual peace he had long neglected. Maybe, it was because this was the first Christmas Eve in a very long time that he shared with someone else.
He rarely celebrates holidays. Holidays are for families, and it has been so long since he has had one he would claim. But she had surprised him this morning with breakfast in his hotel room and declared him on holiday. Her mood was infectious, and he found himself following her around town like a puppy as they played shameless tourists in the small Austrian town and spent the afternoon in small café drinking hot chocolate.
In the months following their very hedonistic first encounter, he quickly found himself addicted to her, stealing secret trysts in between missions. Their rendezvous had increased with alarming frequency, and he can't help but think of how they will ultimately leave him vulnerable. What really scares him, though, is that while he always revels in the carnality of Sydney's body, it is the languid moments after their bliss that he cherishes the most. For days after their encounters, his thoughts glance to her soft scent as she buries her nose in the crook of his neck.
His mind drifts back to the image of her warm body still in bed, and the drowsy smile she wore when he left. She doesn't question his sudden comings and goings; instead she has granted him her trust that he will return. So he had pressed a soft kiss on her shoulder and took his leave murmuring that he would be back later. He hadn't even known where he was going at first but his footsteps crunched a trail through the snowy night and ended up at the old cathedral.
The church was dark, sparsely lit by the candle chandeliers hanging high above. The ceremonial incense hung in the air barely covering the musty centuries the stone walls had seen. The main hall was cavernous, and moonlight filtered through the stained glass creating patterns of tiny jewels. When he entered, he knew had come to try and cleanse his soul for her.
Under her gay façade, she is a mess. She tries so hard to maintain a balance, but she is at war with her own desires and the terrible past that her mind wouldn't let her find. At times, he wonders if she is just using him, forbidden to return to the lover she had before. And other times he wonders if she has had a psychotic break because he sees this Sydney do things he never would have dreamed. But ultimately the looks she gives him are so genuine that he can't question her motives. Once she got over her initial coltishness, she accepted him with a surety that he had never before encountered.
Somehow through all that she had suffered, she has never lost her patina of innocence. There is something sacred deep within her, which drives her on and if he admits it, drives him to her. He knows she still holds that hope for a normal life. She still holds that hope that good can conquer over evil despite the sacrifices she has had to make along the way.
He steps into the aisle to briefly genuflect to the gilded cruciform that dominates the church's altar and makes his way to the nave to sit in the third from last pew. He fingers the wood smoothly polished from years of use and allows his mind to become a blank slate, to leave behind the myriad of plans he has for tomorrow and just believe in this night. It should bother him to have his back to the main exit, but tonight he has dropped the mantle of the calculating Mr. Sark. Normally he would abhor the weakness and openness that he sees in Sydney. Strength and cunning are the tenets of his religion, taught to him by Irina Derevko. How ironic is it that he can just begin to believe he might find solace in a new religion through her daughter. He can't even remember the last time he felt innocent. But his brief time with her leads him to believe it is a possibility.
In his introspection, he misses the gust of wind that cuts through the cathedral causing the candles to flicker. It's not until the new parishioner settles in the pew behind him and cocks his gun that he recognizes the threat he is under. He waits patiently for his opponent to state his attentions, well aware that if a hit was on the agenda tonight, it would have already happened.
"Mr. Sark, I know about your rendezvous with my daughter."
Sark almost smirks. It has been a very long time since he has been
confronted by a father protecting his daughter's virtue. It is quite
reminiscent of boarding school. "I didn't expect it to get by
you for too long."
"Sydney is just living in the moment, nothing more."
"That's exactly what she told me, so it seems you have nothing to worry about."
The silence stretches on for several minutes. He knows it is a blatant intimidation tactic, having used it many times before, but he finds it hard not to suppress a slight shudder under the older man's steely gaze.
"Mr. Sark. Who do you really think you are kidding? If you keep up this game with my daughter, you are going to have to make a decision. You cannot serve two masters."
"I have only been biding my time for the right opportunity. Sloane will make his move soon. "
"I have never understood why a man as smart as yourself would place an ounce of trust in Sloane."
"I never said I trusted Sloane. Besides, his agenda is always to protect Sydney."
"Yes, so he says. Mr. Sark, the time will come quickly for you to make a choice. Sloane's days are numbered, and the Covenant will go down with him. If you play your cards right, the door for redemption will be open to you. You might even be able to earn Sydney's respect. She is too tired to stay in the game. She needs an out before she grows too sloppy."
The older man pauses for a moment, his voice betraying an almost gentle timber as he talks about his daughter.
"I will expect you at midnight a week from tonight in the Mojave Desert. Hanger 23. Bring the plans with you."
And just like that, the father is gone leaving him to dare to believe
in her sanctity and wonder if redemption actually exists.