Disclaimer: Completely and utterly not mine
Okay, my first fic…ever. Please tell me what you think, if it's good or rubbish or whatever. It's not been beta-ed.
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'Be careful what you wish for,' Nadia mused as she sipped on her coffee, 'because it might just come true.'
As a child she had been told the saying time and time again by Señora Vargas and the other women at the orphanage; by the padre at church on Sundays; by the older girls in the dormitory; by Cesar when they were on the streets. She'd been nonplussed as a little girl – if you wanted it, how could it be bad? She had later decided it was just one of those annoying things adults said to piss you off.
But now she was starting to see the truth in it.
When she was in the orphanage Nadia had dutifully traipsed to the chapel with all the other orphan girls every Sunday, and got on her knees and prayed like she'd been taught to.
"Dear God," she thought. "I love you very much. And Jesus too. Thank you for looking after me and giving Señora Vargas food to put on the table at the orphanage. But I would really, really like it if you could make my mama or papa come and take me away. Amen from Nadia."
Right up until she ran away from San Marco's and decided once and for all the God did not exist, she had prayed for a family. A mother, a father, a grandparent, some distant cousin…it didn't matter really. Just…she wanted someone. Someone to take her and love her unconditionally. Someone who was family.
And now she'd got her wish. At least, she'd got the family part. However, she'd never in her wildest dreams thought she'd get relatives like she did.
Her father, Arvin Sloane – someone whose name had become synonymous with an evil, psychopathic criminal mastermind. A man who'd tortured her with that horrific serum, tortured her while she begged for mercy. Hardly the father of her childhood dreams who'd look after her and laugh with her and love her to bits. And then there was her mother.
She had a mother…of some description. She'd never actually met the woman, but from what Nadia had gathered, her mother was Irina Derevko, and ex-KGB, manipulative, backstabbing, psychotic murderess who was 6th on the USA's most wanted list. A woman who had come to America to seduce a CIA agent, steal intelligence secrets and assassinate her husband's colleagues. During her time in America she had an affair with Arvin Sloane, her husband's boss and best friend, and somehow produced a daughter, Nadia. She then faked her death and became the head of a criminal empire obsessed with the same Rambaldi guy as Sloane. Nadia had read the official files a hundred or so times to try and get an accurate picture of her mother, and she'd got as much out of Sydney as she could.
Sydney…a sister. Nadia couldn't believe her luck. A sister…well a half-sister, but who bothers with little things like halves and steps anymore? She had a sister who was normal – at least as normal as an intelligent, gorgeous super-spy could be. Sydney was so nice. Not condescending or patronising, but genuinely interested in Nadia and eager to become friends with her. Unfortunately, with Sydney came Jack.
For lack of a better word, Nadia called him her step-father.
According to Sydney, Jack was cold and unemotional with everyone and everything except for herself. But that didn't make Nadia feel much better when she met the man, with his icy, piercing death glare and hard, cold voice. She tried not to show it but he made her feel about 2 inches tall and incredibly childish with it.
Of course, she reasoned, he had a good enough reason to hate her (even though Sydney said he didn't hate her, he just didn't know her). Nadia was a living reminder that his wife had been unfaithful during their marriage and betrayed him – yet again. Learning that when your wife left she was pregnant with another man's child could not be easy.
Sitting in Sydney's apartment, Nadia looked down at the photographs laid out on the floor in front of her. Her family.
There were lots of Sydney, ranging from a gurgling baby to a smiling child, from a pretty teenager to the stunning woman Nadia knew now. Some, Sydney was alone, but most she was with friends, or Jack, or Irina. There were a few with a kind looking woman with curly blonde hair and a sweet, motherly smile. Sydney had spoken about her wistfully, and Nadia had regretted never meeting her. What had Syd called her again? Emma…Emmeline…Emily…that's it. Emily Sloane, Nadia's father's wife. Technically her step-mother. What would Emily think of her, her husband's daughter? Nadia didn't like to wonder. She turned her attention back to the pictures.
There were a good few of Irina back when she had been Laura Bristow. Sydney obviously hadn't the heart to throw them out, despite her knowledge of her mother's true identity. She looked so young, so beautiful, so carefree. In the picture with Jack they bother looked relaxed and happy, and never seemed to stop smiling. With Sydney as a child she was playful and gentle. She was nothing like the woman Nadia had read about in the files.
There were a couple with Jack by himself, but most were with Irina and/or Sydney. In them all he looked so different from the Jack Bristow Nadia had met.
There were next to none of Sloane – Sydney refused point blank to have any picture of 'that man' in her house and Nadia had acquiesced. But there was one.
He was standing on the left of the photo, smiling happily with his arm around Emily. Next to Emily was Irina, smiling softly and leaning her head on Jack's shoulder. And in front of them, bang in the middle, was a five-year-old Sydney, grinning in the way only children can. Nadia turned the photograph over and read the date – 24th January 1981.
Three weeks before Laura had 'died'.
Nadia looked closely at her mother. Could Irina be pregnant there? Nadia did some quick calculations in her head.
Irina was almost definitely with child.
She suddenly realised this might bet the only photo of her whole family in existence. With a hint of a smile, Nadia pocketed the picture. Sydney wouldn't miss it.
Nadia had got her family. It might not be the family she'd wished for as a child, but she had it nonetheless.
And she wouldn't change it for the world.
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Author's Notes
I'm considering doing another chapter with Sydney having wished for her mother, but I'm not sure. Tell me what you think!!