Contrary to popular belief (or at least the belief that may or may not be expressed by one Sydney Bristow at this point, given his last reply to her on his journal), Sark is not really a masochist. Well, maybe a little in highly controlled circumstances, and that's not even the point. The real point is that for this to work, he needs her full
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She locates him immediately and walks over to the table he's sitting at, though she doesn't sit down yet. Instead, she crosses her arms over her chest, looking down at him. She doesn't plan on this lasting long. Or maybe she just hopes it won't last long. "Alright. What is it?"
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She's still not moving to sit down. He's not a friend. Neither is he an enemy, because she's through with... all of that... and he hasn't given her any reason to hate him yet, but the things Marshall's said about him are enough to make her a little suspicious of this meeting. Alright, more than a little.
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He finally puts the cup down and looks at her, because there is no avoiding this (not that he wants to) and he might as well get it over with. It's not like he's good at small talk and that'll just make Sydney want to kill him more. Really, it'd be easier if she'd sit down, but he honestly doesn't blame her for not doing so. "No doubt you've noticed there's been an unusual level of activity in this city lately ( ... )
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