Author's Notes: Well, I did it! I wrote a sequel to "Usual Adventures" and
I'm really excited for it. I really want to give this time to thank every
person who reviewed Usual Adventures, you really helped me to keep writing
it! A special thanks to some of my reviewers- hadassaknamu, Sweet Blazin',
April, H, screen names are tacky, and SassyAngel05. Thanks! Hope you like
the direction I take the story, and if you don't, please tell me what you
think! And if you get a chance- read my new S/S story- Sweetest Thing.
Thanks for reading!
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Alias, my great hero J.J. Abrams and ABC do.
**Sydney POV**
4 years later.
I was just finishing cleaning up after making us a wonderful Italian dinner when I felt two hands come from behind and wrap around my waist.
"You know, the doctor said you should take it easy," he mumbles in my ear as he rubs my stomach.
"I know," I tell him back and turn and plant a kiss on his cheek.
"How about we take a walk on the beach after I help you clean up this mess?" Andrew asks me.
"Sounds great," I reply and take some dishes into the kitchen and put them in the sink. He follows me close behind with a platter in hand.
"I called one of my contacts today, and they told me that they moved your mother to a safe house instead of at the CIA," he tells me. He made a point to try to stay out of the old business, as we called it, but periodically checked up to see if everything was okay.
"Oh really?" I reply.
"I wouldn't worry about it," he says, comforting me.
"I'm not," I say back.
We both go back into the dining room and both reach down and go for the same plate. We hit our heads and look up and start to laugh.
"Sydney, I'm so in love with you," he tells me after we stop laughing and we lean in for a kiss, but are interrupted by a screaming voice.
"MOMMY!" our 3 year old daughter, Bedelia, screams from the family room. We call her Delia for short. I always wanted my daughter to have a French name, and Bedelia means strength in French.
"Oh, what now," I say as we pull apart and she runs into the dining room and latches herself to my leg.
I lean down and say, "What's wrong, honey?"
"I scraped my finger," she says and puts her finger in front of my face so I could inspect it.
"That looks like a pretty big cut," I tell her just to amuse her.
"Can I get a band-aid?" Delia asks.
"I guess so," I inform her and lead her into the bathroom and medicine cabinet.
I lean down and put it on her finger and kiss it as I always do.
"All better," I tell her.
"Mommy?" she asks. "When am I going to get my new baby brother or sister?"
"In a few months."
"I want a sister," she informs me.
"Oh really?" I joke with her and take her hand and lead her out to the dining room, where Andrew had cleaned up the rest of dinner.
"Yep, so she can play dolls with me," she adds.
"All better, pumpkin?" Andrew asks her when he comes back in the room.
"Yep!" she says with her big bright smile.
Our lives had become almost perfect since we had moved to Australia. We hadn't been disturbed since I left four years ago, probably because no one could find us. We changed our last names and settled down on the coast in a nice beach home. Andrew said he had enough money saved to last us two lifetimes, so neither of us worked.
"Delia, how about you go play with your dolls for a few minutes and you can come with us when Mommy and Daddy go on a walk on the beach," I lean down and tell her.
"Okay," she says and runs along.
He walks over and takes my hand and says, "Don't you love everything now?"
"Especially you, and Delia," I tell him and give him a kiss.
"The forces are finally on our side," he says and we hug and then continue cleaning up dinner.
We head outside, Delia in my hand, and Andrew takes her other hand. We start walking down the beach and soon enough, she pulls out of our grasp and runs down the water looking for shells. It's funny, she always seems to find two or three.
"The sunset is spectacular tonight," he starts.
"It seems to get better and better every night," I add.
"I was thinking we could go for a vacation to France," he says.
"Ooh, that does sound good. We could visit Paris," I reply.
We both look over at Delia playing in the water and notice it getting darker out.
"Delia, honey, don't go too far into the water, baby," Andrew yells to her.
"Are we going to bring Delia?" I ask him.
"Of course," he tells me.
"Good."
She runs up to us and shows us something in her hands.
"Mommy! Look at the shell I found," Delia says and opens her hands and shows me a small shell.
"Good job, honey," I tell her and she whips around and shows Andrew.
"Look, Daddy," she then tells him.
"Wow," he says to her with a smile and he puts the shell in his pocket, as he always does. We both take one of her hands and walk back to the house and pat our feet off.
Delia runs ahead and we stay behind and walk into the family room and notice someone sitting in our chair. I quickly grasp Andrew's hand and he leads us in.
"Sydney, Mr. Sark, what a pleasure," her Russian accent comes through with no problem.
"Irina, escaping CIA custody should be your profession," Andrew tells him in his cocky British accent that he only uses when he doesn't like someone.
"I thought I would come visit my daughter and her husband," she says, standing up to face us both.
"How kind of you to think of us while you're on the run from the CIA," I tell her.
"You think I'm stupid? Well, I'm not. I know your two had me put back in CIA custody so you could go off and play happy couple," she says, getting up in the faces of both of us.
Delia comes running down stairs and Irina turns around at the noise, and I notice her hand go straight to her gun.
"Mommy!" she screams again.
I ignore the glares from Irina and squat down to talk to Delia.
"What is it honey?" I ask her.
She looks up at Irina and says first, "Who's she?"
"An old friend of your mommy and daddy's, honey, now what else did you want?" I ask her.
"Oh," and she turns her focus back to me. "My doll's arm fell off!"
She shows me the doll and I give her a small smile. In times like these, something so innocent could be so perfect.
"How about you go back upstairs and Mommy will be up in a minute to fix it, okay?" I tell her. She runs upstairs and shuts the door to her room.
After a minute, Irina says, "She looks just like you, Sydney. Except she has your blue eyes, Sark."
"If you as so lay one hand on my daughter, you won't see tomorrow," Andrew tells her getting up into her face.
"Pretty weak threat coming from someone I used to employ," Irina tells him back.
I decide to try to end this conflict, and say, "What do you want, Irina? Why are you here?"
"You both screwed with me, and now, I'm going to screw with you," she says harshly, putting us both back on our feet in awe.
~~Well, what's your opinion? Like it? What should I do next?!~~ Masquerade
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Alias, my great hero J.J. Abrams and ABC do.
**Sydney POV**
4 years later.
I was just finishing cleaning up after making us a wonderful Italian dinner when I felt two hands come from behind and wrap around my waist.
"You know, the doctor said you should take it easy," he mumbles in my ear as he rubs my stomach.
"I know," I tell him back and turn and plant a kiss on his cheek.
"How about we take a walk on the beach after I help you clean up this mess?" Andrew asks me.
"Sounds great," I reply and take some dishes into the kitchen and put them in the sink. He follows me close behind with a platter in hand.
"I called one of my contacts today, and they told me that they moved your mother to a safe house instead of at the CIA," he tells me. He made a point to try to stay out of the old business, as we called it, but periodically checked up to see if everything was okay.
"Oh really?" I reply.
"I wouldn't worry about it," he says, comforting me.
"I'm not," I say back.
We both go back into the dining room and both reach down and go for the same plate. We hit our heads and look up and start to laugh.
"Sydney, I'm so in love with you," he tells me after we stop laughing and we lean in for a kiss, but are interrupted by a screaming voice.
"MOMMY!" our 3 year old daughter, Bedelia, screams from the family room. We call her Delia for short. I always wanted my daughter to have a French name, and Bedelia means strength in French.
"Oh, what now," I say as we pull apart and she runs into the dining room and latches herself to my leg.
I lean down and say, "What's wrong, honey?"
"I scraped my finger," she says and puts her finger in front of my face so I could inspect it.
"That looks like a pretty big cut," I tell her just to amuse her.
"Can I get a band-aid?" Delia asks.
"I guess so," I inform her and lead her into the bathroom and medicine cabinet.
I lean down and put it on her finger and kiss it as I always do.
"All better," I tell her.
"Mommy?" she asks. "When am I going to get my new baby brother or sister?"
"In a few months."
"I want a sister," she informs me.
"Oh really?" I joke with her and take her hand and lead her out to the dining room, where Andrew had cleaned up the rest of dinner.
"Yep, so she can play dolls with me," she adds.
"All better, pumpkin?" Andrew asks her when he comes back in the room.
"Yep!" she says with her big bright smile.
Our lives had become almost perfect since we had moved to Australia. We hadn't been disturbed since I left four years ago, probably because no one could find us. We changed our last names and settled down on the coast in a nice beach home. Andrew said he had enough money saved to last us two lifetimes, so neither of us worked.
"Delia, how about you go play with your dolls for a few minutes and you can come with us when Mommy and Daddy go on a walk on the beach," I lean down and tell her.
"Okay," she says and runs along.
He walks over and takes my hand and says, "Don't you love everything now?"
"Especially you, and Delia," I tell him and give him a kiss.
"The forces are finally on our side," he says and we hug and then continue cleaning up dinner.
We head outside, Delia in my hand, and Andrew takes her other hand. We start walking down the beach and soon enough, she pulls out of our grasp and runs down the water looking for shells. It's funny, she always seems to find two or three.
"The sunset is spectacular tonight," he starts.
"It seems to get better and better every night," I add.
"I was thinking we could go for a vacation to France," he says.
"Ooh, that does sound good. We could visit Paris," I reply.
We both look over at Delia playing in the water and notice it getting darker out.
"Delia, honey, don't go too far into the water, baby," Andrew yells to her.
"Are we going to bring Delia?" I ask him.
"Of course," he tells me.
"Good."
She runs up to us and shows us something in her hands.
"Mommy! Look at the shell I found," Delia says and opens her hands and shows me a small shell.
"Good job, honey," I tell her and she whips around and shows Andrew.
"Look, Daddy," she then tells him.
"Wow," he says to her with a smile and he puts the shell in his pocket, as he always does. We both take one of her hands and walk back to the house and pat our feet off.
Delia runs ahead and we stay behind and walk into the family room and notice someone sitting in our chair. I quickly grasp Andrew's hand and he leads us in.
"Sydney, Mr. Sark, what a pleasure," her Russian accent comes through with no problem.
"Irina, escaping CIA custody should be your profession," Andrew tells him in his cocky British accent that he only uses when he doesn't like someone.
"I thought I would come visit my daughter and her husband," she says, standing up to face us both.
"How kind of you to think of us while you're on the run from the CIA," I tell her.
"You think I'm stupid? Well, I'm not. I know your two had me put back in CIA custody so you could go off and play happy couple," she says, getting up in the faces of both of us.
Delia comes running down stairs and Irina turns around at the noise, and I notice her hand go straight to her gun.
"Mommy!" she screams again.
I ignore the glares from Irina and squat down to talk to Delia.
"What is it honey?" I ask her.
She looks up at Irina and says first, "Who's she?"
"An old friend of your mommy and daddy's, honey, now what else did you want?" I ask her.
"Oh," and she turns her focus back to me. "My doll's arm fell off!"
She shows me the doll and I give her a small smile. In times like these, something so innocent could be so perfect.
"How about you go back upstairs and Mommy will be up in a minute to fix it, okay?" I tell her. She runs upstairs and shuts the door to her room.
After a minute, Irina says, "She looks just like you, Sydney. Except she has your blue eyes, Sark."
"If you as so lay one hand on my daughter, you won't see tomorrow," Andrew tells her getting up into her face.
"Pretty weak threat coming from someone I used to employ," Irina tells him back.
I decide to try to end this conflict, and say, "What do you want, Irina? Why are you here?"
"You both screwed with me, and now, I'm going to screw with you," she says harshly, putting us both back on our feet in awe.
~~Well, what's your opinion? Like it? What should I do next?!~~ Masquerade