First off, hello fellow "Alias" fans. I've been an "Alias" fan for a while now and I was pretty disappointed with the ending (that's just my opinion!), so I thought I'd write an ending. This is in Sydney's point of view and takes place a few years after Jack gets shot. Obviously, Jack lives and Isabelle is older. Irina, however, is still dead. Please be gentle. This is my first posting of any fanfiction, but I have really enjoyed reading everyone's else's work. Please review!
The Puzzle.
"Da—" I stopped mid-sentence when I spotted both my father and Isabelle in his study. He was actually laughing with her. Then I spotted them. The blocks.
The blocks that made me feel as if my life would never be normal. The blocks I had no problem piecing together, the puzzle that had begun so long ago, the puzzle that made the relationship with my father more difficult than it had to be. The puzzle that saved my life.
I have to admit, seeing my father with my daughter is something I never expected to happen. When I had been engaged to Danny, the man known as Jack Bristow was just another stranger on the street. I just had the same last name as him. Nothing less, nothing more. He managed to open up, as shocking as that may sound, more so as each year passed when I realized we had a common goal—Even more so since Isabelle was born.
Through everything in my stupid little life, my father was there. Granted, he was there subtly, making sure all was well—But, that's as far as things used to go. Even when I went missing, he never stopped his search for me. It made me realize for the first time that he was someone who truly loved me, no matter what.
I watched through the half-open doorway as my father placed the pieces of the puzzle on his desk beside the puzzle's base. "I told you I had a surprise for you," he told her, with a smile.
"What is it?" she asked him excitedly.
"It's a puzzle. Try and see if you can solve it." He suggested it softly, which made me wonder if he regretted even telling her of an almost impossible puzzle. She was never one who took a challenge lightly. Isabelle picked up the pieces and stared at them momentarily before picking up a piece.
She had the puzzle put together in a matter of seconds. My father sat there at his desk, absolutely speechless. It takes a lot to make Jack Bristow speechless.
"How's that?" she asked him.
"Isabelle, sweetheart, that was wonderful." He took the puzzle apart, shuffled the pieces again and said, "See if you can do that, again." She eagerly nodded and as she began to put the pieces back together in the same order, he looked up at the doorway and saw me.
He stopped and smiled at me. A true smile. I smiled back, realizing how Isabelle Bristow-Vannugh was anything but extraordinary. She was a true Bristow. No matter how hard I tried to get that puzzle out of my head, thinking my father had pre-determined my destiny, I know he hadn't. Being a spy was something that was supposed to happen. Being a mother was something that was supposed to happen. Project Christmas—it was just another little thing I like to call destiny.