Title: Daddy's Little Girl by brokenflower
Distribution: Go ahead and put it wherever you want but email me let me know first
Disclaimer: I own nothing, if I did then Will would not be as annoying as he is right now. Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, and was created by J.J. Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.
Author's Note: Inspired by the song "An American Girl" by Trisha Yearwood. I hope you enjoy and please review!
~
"She used to tie her hair up in ribbons and bows
Sign her letters with X's and O's
She's got a picture of her mama in heels and pearls
She's tryin' to make it in her daddy's world..."
-An American Girl by Trisha Yearwood
~
"Okay mommy, you put on the pearls and I'll wear the black thing!"
"All right."
Laura smiled as she wrapped the black shawl around Sydney's shoulders.
"There's something missing. I think you need a hat."
Laura reached behind her for a large brimmed hat, which she placed on Sydney's head, hiding her pigtails. Jack suddenly appeared in the doorway of the master bedroom.
"What are my girls up to?" he asked with a laugh.
"I'm helping mommy get ready for the party," Sydney answered enthusiastically.
"Yes, Sydney is modeling the clothes for me," Laura said.
Jack walked further into the room to inspect their clothes. Laura sat poised in front of her vanity decked in a full-length black evening gown and matching heels. Her hair was up in an elegant twist and her freshly applied make-up masked any imperfection. Sydney stood at her side, her light denim overalls clashing horribly with the shawl, hat, and long white gloves that ran the entire length of her arms.
"My beautiful girls," he mused lovingly.
"Take a picture daddy!" Sydney clapped.
"All right. Get close together," he said as he crossed the room to get his camera.
With the camera in hand, Jack turned to see that Laura had pulled Sydney onto her lap, hugging her close. They were both smiling brightly for the picture.
"Wait, this isn't right," Jack said as he prepared to snap the picture.
Laura frowned. "What? What's not right?"
Jack smiled suavely and pulled a long, thin, black velvet box from his jacket. He closed the distance between them and handed it to Laura.
"What is this?"
"Open it," he instructed gently.
Slowly she opened the box and immediately her hand flew to her heart, touched by his gift. Inside was a delicate strand of white pearls, gleaming gently in the light.
"Oh Jack, they're beautiful! What's the occasion?"
He lifted the necklace out of the box and moved behind her to clasp it in place.
"I just felt like spoiling you," he answered.
"Can we take the picture now?" Sydney whined.
Her parents laughed at the child's impatience.
"Of course Sydney," Jack answered gently.
With a quick flash, the moment was captured. Sydney let out a yawn.
"Looks like someone needs to get to bed," Laura mused, removing the accessories Sydney wore.
Jack held his hand out to Sydney. "Let's get you ready for bed."
"Actually, I want to go with mommy," Sydney objected.
Jack was taken aback but Sydney's eyes shone with such childhood innocence that Jack forced a loving smile onto his face. "Oh, that-that's all right then."
"You can come in after, daddy," Sydney offered.
"You couldn't keep me away," he replied.
"Come on sweetie," Laura nudged.
Before leaving the room she gave Jack a sympathetic glance. Jack sighed and suppressed the urge to slump down onto the bed. Dejectedly he gathered the shawl and gloves his wife was to wear and picked up her purse on the way out. He waited outside Sydney's bedroom door for a few minutes, listening to their giggles before knocking.
"Come in!" Laura called.
He entered shyly. Sydney was just getting into bed and Laura was adjusting the covers.
"Daddy, can you help me untie my pigtails?" she asked.
Jack had a sneaking suspicion that Laura had coerced Sydney into asking for HIS help but he wasn't about to ruin the moment. He smiled and sat next to her, gently untying the ribbons that held her hair in place. Laura crossed to the window and opened it, then observed patiently as he ran his hand though Sydney's hair, eliminating any tangles.
"Okay," she broke in, "we have to get going."
Jack nodded. "Sydney, sleep tight. Remember, Emily is right downstairs if you need anything."
Sydney nodded and smiled as he gave her a small kiss on the cheek.
"Goodnight daddy," she said quietly.
Laura stepped forward and kissed her daughter, tucking the covers just under her chin. "Good night darling, I love you."
"Good night mommy, I love you too."
Jack flinched. Sydney never said she loved him.
Laura nodded to Jack and they turned to leave. As Laura closed the door, the faint "I love you daddy," was carried away by a gentle breeze, unheard by the intended.
They stood outside the door, Jack wrapping the shawl around his wife's shoulder as she slipped on the gloves.
"She loves you," he said. "You're her hero."
"She loves you too. You just don't hear it because you're never home."
"Laura please, she adores you! I don't even exist to her!"
Laura turned around and faced him. She looked into his eyes and spoke in a serious tone.
"Jack, there is a time in every girl's life where she ends up hating her mother. That's when 'daddy' becomes the hero. Whenever a mother and daughter get into a fight she goes running to her father. That's how it always is. Jack, it doesn't seem like what you do matters to Sydney but trust me when I say that later down the line it will be the most important thing to her. She will remember you for what you did...and for what you didn't, but regardless she will love you, because you're her daddy. You're her hero."
Jack shook his head and was about to object but she cut him off.
"No, don't say I'm wrong, because I'm not. She's going to grow up to be her daddy's little girl. For some girls it's sooner than later, some reconcile after a while and others go their whole lives feeling resentment towards their mothers but no matter when or why, she will hate me and you will mean the world to her."
Jack cleared his throat uneasily. "We should go," he whispered.
She decided not to press the subject further. Instead she took his hand and allowed him to guide her away.
~~~~~~
She's so much like her father. I know that she'll refuse to admit it but the way she carries herself...it's eerie. She was cold and terse as she talked to Khasinou yet...there may be something there, a chink in her armor that I can use to my advantage. She didn't seem comfortable acting the role. Her spy skills are excellent but not as up to par as they could be. She seems distracted. She focuses on me but there is something...or someone she is worried about. Security did say that she hadn't come alone. This doesn't surprise me. My daughter has always been an emotional person. Loved ones have always been her weakness and this is why I am almost positive I have a shot with her. She keeps looking at me, expecting me to say something but I can't. I'm fascinated just watching her as she shifts impatiently, only breaking eye contact as she looks around for some way out of this situation, for something she could use to her advantage. I'm getting concerned though, because her expression has changed in the last few minutes. When she first saw me, I swear she was crying tears of happiness and relief. The word
"Mom" rolled off her tongue so easily, it was as if we'd never been apart. But now, I see anger. Resentment. Hate.
Hate. That four-letter word, that powerful emotion that I hoped she would never feel towards me. But maybe it isn't true. Maybe I haven't lost her yet. Maybe she will still see me as the mother that used to care for her all those years ago.
"You've grown since I last saw you," I comment, gaining the courage to finally speak.
"Yeah, twenty one years does tend to change a person's appearance," she spits bitterly.
I don't let her see how her words hurt me. Anger is to be expected I suppose. Though, I never thought that it would be directed towards me. I know, naïve eh? To think that knowing about my years of betrayal to her and her father that she would still adore me like she did as a child? Clearly this woman, sitting in this chair, with ridiculous blue hair and an indiscreet costume is not the little girl with pigtails I left behind.
"Do you honestly think that I haven't cared to check on you in all this time?" I say sincerely.
"What do you mean?"
I laugh at the absurdity of the moment, at the question that I'm obligated to ask. "Do you honestly think that I would walk away from your life like that?"
"What am I supposed to think?"
"Sydney, some, not all, of those nannies that your father hired.worked for me."
She blanches at the news. She is alarmed that such a breech could have been made. She shouldn't blame herself, she was just a child and there was no way she could have known at that age when trust is easily doled out to those who seem pleasant enough.
"They kept me updated on your life. I even have some pictures of you. Obviously when you passed the point of needing a nanny I couldn't watch you as much but I still cared."
I mean this and I even feel the threat of tears at the memory of all those years when I had no contact. But she doesn't want to trust me. She snorts sardonically. Obviously she has inherited her father's stubbornness.
"Like I'm supposed to believe that? I spent too many years building you up as some kind of saint! Now that I know the real you, what you did, I can't see how a person like you is even capable of emotion."
Now I am mad. My motherly instincts come flooding back and I refuse to be treated this way.
"Sydney! Don't you dare talk to me like that! I'm your mother!"
"No, you're not! I don't have a mother!" she yells back, fighting against her restraints.
Those words hit me like a ton of bricks. No. I refuse to face her like this. Her emotions, as well as mine, are not in check. I want-no, I need to gain her trust. All the other things I have planned can wait. First I need to prove that I was wrong all those years ago when I told Jack that someday he would become the hero and I would become the hated. What I failed to mention back then is that although a daughter may hate her mother for a time, there is an unbreakable bond and despite all that I have done, I know Sydney loves me and wants me in her life. She always has and she always will. It is her weakness. It is what keeps me in this game. Her eyes dart around the room again before she slumps crestfallen. She closes her eyes and I guess that she is trying, like me, to get her emotions in check so that she can deal with me in a rational manner. This is something her father could never do and for the first time it occurs to me, maybe she isn't as much like Jack as I thought.
"You look like me, did you know?" I say calmly, hoping to distract us both.
She opens her eyes but does not meet mine. "Yes. I get told that all the time."
Her voice is weak and strained.
"Yes, you've got Russian features I think. It's in your blood," I remind her.
"I know that," she says forcefully while keeping her voice just above a whisper.
I crack a small smile. "I'm just reminding you."
She doesn't say anything but the way she looks away...I can only hope that she is trying to fight back tears.
"Are you cold? Would you like anything to eat?" I ask. "Never mind answering, I'll have someone bring something in. You still like Italian food right?"
As I turn to leave her voice stops my movement.
"Why are you doing this? Why are you acting like you care?"
Her pained eyes finally meet mine, tears brimming the surface, threatening to spill out. My heart fills with the warmth and concern that I spent years trying to erase. Leaning down in front of her, resting on my knees to see her at eye level, I answer her.
"Because I do care Sydney. I honestly do. It doesn't matter what happened before, that doesn't change how I feel about you."
A tear escapes her eye and I know that I am one step closer to swaying her in my favor.
Tentatively I lift my hand to cup her cheek and wipe away the tear with my thumb. She closes her eyes and takes a staggering breath. Involuntarily she leans into my hand. I toy with a strand of misplaced blue hair.
"Look at you. What kind of father allows his daughter to wear this sort of outfit?"
Her eyes snap open. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean that if he were a good father he wouldn't make you display yourself like a hooker," I reply casually.
She takes another staggering breath and I can tell her anger is coming back. I have stepped over the line.
"Are you implying that this is all his fault? Maybe I wouldn't even be in this position if you hadn't abandoned us. He is a good father and he does the best he can. That's a lot more than I can say for you!" she cries indignantly.
I sigh. "No, I tried, I made sure the people that your father hired would not hurt you. Sydney, you're father was always away on business when you were a little girl. Do you remember when you were ten and he was going away on a trip and you put a letter in his suitcase?"
She inhales sharply. Apparently, she remembers that time very well.
"How did you...? Nanny Marie, she worked for you. I should have known, every bedtime story had something to do with espionage," she shakes her head at the realization.
"You wished him a safe trip and told him that you'd miss him. You told him you understood how busy he was but to remember that he was still your...hero," I smirk at the word, "then, you signed your name followed by a series of X's and O's."
She frowns as she remembers. "Hugs and kisses...how did you know what was in the letter?"
I ignore her and continue speaking. "Before he left he looked in his bag and found your letter. You watched as he read it, waiting for him to smile but he looked mad instead, he crumpled the letter and threw it away. You stopped signing your letters with X's and O's."
"How did you know that?" she asks quietly. "How did you know what was in the letter?"
I smile and she immediately knows the answer.
"Of course, Nanny Marie did a little digging in the trash." she says with a shake of her head.
"I 'm still angry at your father, getting you messed up in this spy trade and all. I don't know what was going on in his mind, thinking that you could survive in our world...in his world."
"He didn't recruit me," she retorts.
"Either way, if he was a real father he wouldn't have let you get mixed up in this." I tell her, smoothing down her hair.
She jerks roughly away from me. Her eyes had begun to soften as we talked but now they flash with fury.
"Don't say that! Don't say that and think that you know everything! He is a good father! A better father than you were a mother! Without him I would be dead right now. You don't know the risks he's taken for me! I know for a fact that he loves me! That he cares!"
I can't help but think that maybe I am too late, that maybe I have already lost her. I didn't expect her to be so protective of him, I expected that she would still adore me and I hoped to use that to my advantage. But, I'm not ready to give up, I need to change her mind.
"How do you know for sure? How do you know that he loves you? He's hurt you so much Sydney, I can only imagine what he's done that I don't know about."
She swallows. I am getting somewhere. Her eyes soften again into sadness. I hide the joy I feel in knowing that she doesn't see him as perfect. I frown understandingly and reach behind her and take her hand, not allowing her the chance to pull away.
"Tell me Sydney, tell your mother what happened. I know you're thinking of a time he hurt you right now aren't you?"
She swallows and looks down again. "I wanted to get to know him. A simple dinner, that's all I asked. But...he stood me up. He hurt me."
More tears begin to roll down her face. Again I reach up and wipe them away.
"I'll never hurt you Sydney."
Her eyes flicker. She looks me directly in the eye and I can see angered confusion bubbling up inside her. Instantly I regret what I've said. I almost had her but the damage is done.
"You'll never hurt me? You'll never hurt me?!" her voice gets louder as she repeats it. "You already have! You have hurt me on so many levels! On purpose! If my father caused me pain it's a result of what you did to him, what you did to all of us! He wasn't like how he is now before you left us!"
"Sydney..."
"No! My father was right! There is nothing you can say to me! There is nothing you can say to me that will replace all those years of wishing, hoping that you could come back and make everything better."
"But I can," I urge her. "If only you'll let me."
"No, you can't."
She narrows her eyes menacingly. My eyes widen. Hate. I see hate in her eyes again. I don't bother to hide the fear on my face. Time slows as I see her mouth open to form those awful words. All I can hear is my heartbeat. I beg, please don't say it, don't say...
"I hate you," she spits through clenched teeth.
I close my eyes with grief and suddenly I'm back to that night, almost twenty-one years ago, talking to Jack outside Sydney's room. I heard her whisper her love for her father but I closed the door before he could hear it.
"Jack, there is a time in every girl's life where she ends up hating her mother. That's when 'daddy' becomes the hero."
And that's when I feel a blinding pain.
~
"Sydney, are you all right?"
I step over Laura's body. I am tempted to kill her, to get revenge for the years of agony she caused Sydney but I can't. That's what Irina would do but I am not about to sink to her level. Sydney looks up and it takes her a moment to register who I am.
"I'm fine," she says distractedly following my actions with her eyes.
I free her hands and before I can realize what is happening she pulls me into a fierce hug. She draws back and smiles at me.
"Daddy, my hero."
There is a moment of silence. Years ago, hearing my daughter call me a 'hero' would have pained me and brought me back to that night when Laura warned me of what was to come. I hadn't wanted to believe Laura all those years ago but now...the sound of Sydney's admiration, the same admiration that she used to hold for Laura and Laura alone, tore down the cold ice barriers built long ago.
"How much did you hear?" she asks.
"Enough," I reply.
I heard Irina try to tempt her, knowing that she was trying to gain Sydney's trust in order to get what she wanted: to turn my girl, my daughter against me. But she resisted even when I was sure she was lost. I fought the urge to yell out when that woman made her question how I felt about her. God knows Sydney has a right to think that I don't care after all I've done to not be a part of her life, but on some level I think we understand each other. Sydney knows what it is like to hide something from those you love to protect them and save them from the horrors of this world that we live in, from the life that we lead.
"Sydney, I know this is not the time or the place but...never doubt that I love you."
"I won't," she whispers.
As she pulls me back into another hug my mind takes me back on a journey to the simple days, before the supposed death of the love of my life transformed me to a cold and bitter man. Back to the days when I would lift Sydney up and swing her around in a hug, her pigtails flying behind her, her giggles ringing with joy, her eyes shining in love. She did love me, she always did, I was just too blind to see it. It's time to open my eyes.
"Let's get out of here before someone finds us," I suggest.
~
He thought I was unconscious but I'm not. I struggled to stay awake to hear what she had to say but now I wish I hadn't. I'm too weak to stop them as they sneak away and disappear through the maze of hallways. Where they're headed and whether or not my security will capture them is a mystery to me but I am sure of one thing...
She is her daddy's little girl.
Everything goes black. I've heard enough.
~
"She used to tie her hair up in ribbons and bows, sign her letter with X's and O's, she's got a picture of her mama in heels and pearls, she's trying to make it in her daddy's world..."
~
AN: Special thanks to my new beta reader, Sydney, who did a wonderful job in fine-tuning this story.
Distribution: Go ahead and put it wherever you want but email me let me know first
Disclaimer: I own nothing, if I did then Will would not be as annoying as he is right now. Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, and was created by J.J. Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.
Author's Note: Inspired by the song "An American Girl" by Trisha Yearwood. I hope you enjoy and please review!
~
"She used to tie her hair up in ribbons and bows
Sign her letters with X's and O's
She's got a picture of her mama in heels and pearls
She's tryin' to make it in her daddy's world..."
-An American Girl by Trisha Yearwood
~
"Okay mommy, you put on the pearls and I'll wear the black thing!"
"All right."
Laura smiled as she wrapped the black shawl around Sydney's shoulders.
"There's something missing. I think you need a hat."
Laura reached behind her for a large brimmed hat, which she placed on Sydney's head, hiding her pigtails. Jack suddenly appeared in the doorway of the master bedroom.
"What are my girls up to?" he asked with a laugh.
"I'm helping mommy get ready for the party," Sydney answered enthusiastically.
"Yes, Sydney is modeling the clothes for me," Laura said.
Jack walked further into the room to inspect their clothes. Laura sat poised in front of her vanity decked in a full-length black evening gown and matching heels. Her hair was up in an elegant twist and her freshly applied make-up masked any imperfection. Sydney stood at her side, her light denim overalls clashing horribly with the shawl, hat, and long white gloves that ran the entire length of her arms.
"My beautiful girls," he mused lovingly.
"Take a picture daddy!" Sydney clapped.
"All right. Get close together," he said as he crossed the room to get his camera.
With the camera in hand, Jack turned to see that Laura had pulled Sydney onto her lap, hugging her close. They were both smiling brightly for the picture.
"Wait, this isn't right," Jack said as he prepared to snap the picture.
Laura frowned. "What? What's not right?"
Jack smiled suavely and pulled a long, thin, black velvet box from his jacket. He closed the distance between them and handed it to Laura.
"What is this?"
"Open it," he instructed gently.
Slowly she opened the box and immediately her hand flew to her heart, touched by his gift. Inside was a delicate strand of white pearls, gleaming gently in the light.
"Oh Jack, they're beautiful! What's the occasion?"
He lifted the necklace out of the box and moved behind her to clasp it in place.
"I just felt like spoiling you," he answered.
"Can we take the picture now?" Sydney whined.
Her parents laughed at the child's impatience.
"Of course Sydney," Jack answered gently.
With a quick flash, the moment was captured. Sydney let out a yawn.
"Looks like someone needs to get to bed," Laura mused, removing the accessories Sydney wore.
Jack held his hand out to Sydney. "Let's get you ready for bed."
"Actually, I want to go with mommy," Sydney objected.
Jack was taken aback but Sydney's eyes shone with such childhood innocence that Jack forced a loving smile onto his face. "Oh, that-that's all right then."
"You can come in after, daddy," Sydney offered.
"You couldn't keep me away," he replied.
"Come on sweetie," Laura nudged.
Before leaving the room she gave Jack a sympathetic glance. Jack sighed and suppressed the urge to slump down onto the bed. Dejectedly he gathered the shawl and gloves his wife was to wear and picked up her purse on the way out. He waited outside Sydney's bedroom door for a few minutes, listening to their giggles before knocking.
"Come in!" Laura called.
He entered shyly. Sydney was just getting into bed and Laura was adjusting the covers.
"Daddy, can you help me untie my pigtails?" she asked.
Jack had a sneaking suspicion that Laura had coerced Sydney into asking for HIS help but he wasn't about to ruin the moment. He smiled and sat next to her, gently untying the ribbons that held her hair in place. Laura crossed to the window and opened it, then observed patiently as he ran his hand though Sydney's hair, eliminating any tangles.
"Okay," she broke in, "we have to get going."
Jack nodded. "Sydney, sleep tight. Remember, Emily is right downstairs if you need anything."
Sydney nodded and smiled as he gave her a small kiss on the cheek.
"Goodnight daddy," she said quietly.
Laura stepped forward and kissed her daughter, tucking the covers just under her chin. "Good night darling, I love you."
"Good night mommy, I love you too."
Jack flinched. Sydney never said she loved him.
Laura nodded to Jack and they turned to leave. As Laura closed the door, the faint "I love you daddy," was carried away by a gentle breeze, unheard by the intended.
They stood outside the door, Jack wrapping the shawl around his wife's shoulder as she slipped on the gloves.
"She loves you," he said. "You're her hero."
"She loves you too. You just don't hear it because you're never home."
"Laura please, she adores you! I don't even exist to her!"
Laura turned around and faced him. She looked into his eyes and spoke in a serious tone.
"Jack, there is a time in every girl's life where she ends up hating her mother. That's when 'daddy' becomes the hero. Whenever a mother and daughter get into a fight she goes running to her father. That's how it always is. Jack, it doesn't seem like what you do matters to Sydney but trust me when I say that later down the line it will be the most important thing to her. She will remember you for what you did...and for what you didn't, but regardless she will love you, because you're her daddy. You're her hero."
Jack shook his head and was about to object but she cut him off.
"No, don't say I'm wrong, because I'm not. She's going to grow up to be her daddy's little girl. For some girls it's sooner than later, some reconcile after a while and others go their whole lives feeling resentment towards their mothers but no matter when or why, she will hate me and you will mean the world to her."
Jack cleared his throat uneasily. "We should go," he whispered.
She decided not to press the subject further. Instead she took his hand and allowed him to guide her away.
~~~~~~
She's so much like her father. I know that she'll refuse to admit it but the way she carries herself...it's eerie. She was cold and terse as she talked to Khasinou yet...there may be something there, a chink in her armor that I can use to my advantage. She didn't seem comfortable acting the role. Her spy skills are excellent but not as up to par as they could be. She seems distracted. She focuses on me but there is something...or someone she is worried about. Security did say that she hadn't come alone. This doesn't surprise me. My daughter has always been an emotional person. Loved ones have always been her weakness and this is why I am almost positive I have a shot with her. She keeps looking at me, expecting me to say something but I can't. I'm fascinated just watching her as she shifts impatiently, only breaking eye contact as she looks around for some way out of this situation, for something she could use to her advantage. I'm getting concerned though, because her expression has changed in the last few minutes. When she first saw me, I swear she was crying tears of happiness and relief. The word
"Mom" rolled off her tongue so easily, it was as if we'd never been apart. But now, I see anger. Resentment. Hate.
Hate. That four-letter word, that powerful emotion that I hoped she would never feel towards me. But maybe it isn't true. Maybe I haven't lost her yet. Maybe she will still see me as the mother that used to care for her all those years ago.
"You've grown since I last saw you," I comment, gaining the courage to finally speak.
"Yeah, twenty one years does tend to change a person's appearance," she spits bitterly.
I don't let her see how her words hurt me. Anger is to be expected I suppose. Though, I never thought that it would be directed towards me. I know, naïve eh? To think that knowing about my years of betrayal to her and her father that she would still adore me like she did as a child? Clearly this woman, sitting in this chair, with ridiculous blue hair and an indiscreet costume is not the little girl with pigtails I left behind.
"Do you honestly think that I haven't cared to check on you in all this time?" I say sincerely.
"What do you mean?"
I laugh at the absurdity of the moment, at the question that I'm obligated to ask. "Do you honestly think that I would walk away from your life like that?"
"What am I supposed to think?"
"Sydney, some, not all, of those nannies that your father hired.worked for me."
She blanches at the news. She is alarmed that such a breech could have been made. She shouldn't blame herself, she was just a child and there was no way she could have known at that age when trust is easily doled out to those who seem pleasant enough.
"They kept me updated on your life. I even have some pictures of you. Obviously when you passed the point of needing a nanny I couldn't watch you as much but I still cared."
I mean this and I even feel the threat of tears at the memory of all those years when I had no contact. But she doesn't want to trust me. She snorts sardonically. Obviously she has inherited her father's stubbornness.
"Like I'm supposed to believe that? I spent too many years building you up as some kind of saint! Now that I know the real you, what you did, I can't see how a person like you is even capable of emotion."
Now I am mad. My motherly instincts come flooding back and I refuse to be treated this way.
"Sydney! Don't you dare talk to me like that! I'm your mother!"
"No, you're not! I don't have a mother!" she yells back, fighting against her restraints.
Those words hit me like a ton of bricks. No. I refuse to face her like this. Her emotions, as well as mine, are not in check. I want-no, I need to gain her trust. All the other things I have planned can wait. First I need to prove that I was wrong all those years ago when I told Jack that someday he would become the hero and I would become the hated. What I failed to mention back then is that although a daughter may hate her mother for a time, there is an unbreakable bond and despite all that I have done, I know Sydney loves me and wants me in her life. She always has and she always will. It is her weakness. It is what keeps me in this game. Her eyes dart around the room again before she slumps crestfallen. She closes her eyes and I guess that she is trying, like me, to get her emotions in check so that she can deal with me in a rational manner. This is something her father could never do and for the first time it occurs to me, maybe she isn't as much like Jack as I thought.
"You look like me, did you know?" I say calmly, hoping to distract us both.
She opens her eyes but does not meet mine. "Yes. I get told that all the time."
Her voice is weak and strained.
"Yes, you've got Russian features I think. It's in your blood," I remind her.
"I know that," she says forcefully while keeping her voice just above a whisper.
I crack a small smile. "I'm just reminding you."
She doesn't say anything but the way she looks away...I can only hope that she is trying to fight back tears.
"Are you cold? Would you like anything to eat?" I ask. "Never mind answering, I'll have someone bring something in. You still like Italian food right?"
As I turn to leave her voice stops my movement.
"Why are you doing this? Why are you acting like you care?"
Her pained eyes finally meet mine, tears brimming the surface, threatening to spill out. My heart fills with the warmth and concern that I spent years trying to erase. Leaning down in front of her, resting on my knees to see her at eye level, I answer her.
"Because I do care Sydney. I honestly do. It doesn't matter what happened before, that doesn't change how I feel about you."
A tear escapes her eye and I know that I am one step closer to swaying her in my favor.
Tentatively I lift my hand to cup her cheek and wipe away the tear with my thumb. She closes her eyes and takes a staggering breath. Involuntarily she leans into my hand. I toy with a strand of misplaced blue hair.
"Look at you. What kind of father allows his daughter to wear this sort of outfit?"
Her eyes snap open. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean that if he were a good father he wouldn't make you display yourself like a hooker," I reply casually.
She takes another staggering breath and I can tell her anger is coming back. I have stepped over the line.
"Are you implying that this is all his fault? Maybe I wouldn't even be in this position if you hadn't abandoned us. He is a good father and he does the best he can. That's a lot more than I can say for you!" she cries indignantly.
I sigh. "No, I tried, I made sure the people that your father hired would not hurt you. Sydney, you're father was always away on business when you were a little girl. Do you remember when you were ten and he was going away on a trip and you put a letter in his suitcase?"
She inhales sharply. Apparently, she remembers that time very well.
"How did you...? Nanny Marie, she worked for you. I should have known, every bedtime story had something to do with espionage," she shakes her head at the realization.
"You wished him a safe trip and told him that you'd miss him. You told him you understood how busy he was but to remember that he was still your...hero," I smirk at the word, "then, you signed your name followed by a series of X's and O's."
She frowns as she remembers. "Hugs and kisses...how did you know what was in the letter?"
I ignore her and continue speaking. "Before he left he looked in his bag and found your letter. You watched as he read it, waiting for him to smile but he looked mad instead, he crumpled the letter and threw it away. You stopped signing your letters with X's and O's."
"How did you know that?" she asks quietly. "How did you know what was in the letter?"
I smile and she immediately knows the answer.
"Of course, Nanny Marie did a little digging in the trash." she says with a shake of her head.
"I 'm still angry at your father, getting you messed up in this spy trade and all. I don't know what was going on in his mind, thinking that you could survive in our world...in his world."
"He didn't recruit me," she retorts.
"Either way, if he was a real father he wouldn't have let you get mixed up in this." I tell her, smoothing down her hair.
She jerks roughly away from me. Her eyes had begun to soften as we talked but now they flash with fury.
"Don't say that! Don't say that and think that you know everything! He is a good father! A better father than you were a mother! Without him I would be dead right now. You don't know the risks he's taken for me! I know for a fact that he loves me! That he cares!"
I can't help but think that maybe I am too late, that maybe I have already lost her. I didn't expect her to be so protective of him, I expected that she would still adore me and I hoped to use that to my advantage. But, I'm not ready to give up, I need to change her mind.
"How do you know for sure? How do you know that he loves you? He's hurt you so much Sydney, I can only imagine what he's done that I don't know about."
She swallows. I am getting somewhere. Her eyes soften again into sadness. I hide the joy I feel in knowing that she doesn't see him as perfect. I frown understandingly and reach behind her and take her hand, not allowing her the chance to pull away.
"Tell me Sydney, tell your mother what happened. I know you're thinking of a time he hurt you right now aren't you?"
She swallows and looks down again. "I wanted to get to know him. A simple dinner, that's all I asked. But...he stood me up. He hurt me."
More tears begin to roll down her face. Again I reach up and wipe them away.
"I'll never hurt you Sydney."
Her eyes flicker. She looks me directly in the eye and I can see angered confusion bubbling up inside her. Instantly I regret what I've said. I almost had her but the damage is done.
"You'll never hurt me? You'll never hurt me?!" her voice gets louder as she repeats it. "You already have! You have hurt me on so many levels! On purpose! If my father caused me pain it's a result of what you did to him, what you did to all of us! He wasn't like how he is now before you left us!"
"Sydney..."
"No! My father was right! There is nothing you can say to me! There is nothing you can say to me that will replace all those years of wishing, hoping that you could come back and make everything better."
"But I can," I urge her. "If only you'll let me."
"No, you can't."
She narrows her eyes menacingly. My eyes widen. Hate. I see hate in her eyes again. I don't bother to hide the fear on my face. Time slows as I see her mouth open to form those awful words. All I can hear is my heartbeat. I beg, please don't say it, don't say...
"I hate you," she spits through clenched teeth.
I close my eyes with grief and suddenly I'm back to that night, almost twenty-one years ago, talking to Jack outside Sydney's room. I heard her whisper her love for her father but I closed the door before he could hear it.
"Jack, there is a time in every girl's life where she ends up hating her mother. That's when 'daddy' becomes the hero."
And that's when I feel a blinding pain.
~
"Sydney, are you all right?"
I step over Laura's body. I am tempted to kill her, to get revenge for the years of agony she caused Sydney but I can't. That's what Irina would do but I am not about to sink to her level. Sydney looks up and it takes her a moment to register who I am.
"I'm fine," she says distractedly following my actions with her eyes.
I free her hands and before I can realize what is happening she pulls me into a fierce hug. She draws back and smiles at me.
"Daddy, my hero."
There is a moment of silence. Years ago, hearing my daughter call me a 'hero' would have pained me and brought me back to that night when Laura warned me of what was to come. I hadn't wanted to believe Laura all those years ago but now...the sound of Sydney's admiration, the same admiration that she used to hold for Laura and Laura alone, tore down the cold ice barriers built long ago.
"How much did you hear?" she asks.
"Enough," I reply.
I heard Irina try to tempt her, knowing that she was trying to gain Sydney's trust in order to get what she wanted: to turn my girl, my daughter against me. But she resisted even when I was sure she was lost. I fought the urge to yell out when that woman made her question how I felt about her. God knows Sydney has a right to think that I don't care after all I've done to not be a part of her life, but on some level I think we understand each other. Sydney knows what it is like to hide something from those you love to protect them and save them from the horrors of this world that we live in, from the life that we lead.
"Sydney, I know this is not the time or the place but...never doubt that I love you."
"I won't," she whispers.
As she pulls me back into another hug my mind takes me back on a journey to the simple days, before the supposed death of the love of my life transformed me to a cold and bitter man. Back to the days when I would lift Sydney up and swing her around in a hug, her pigtails flying behind her, her giggles ringing with joy, her eyes shining in love. She did love me, she always did, I was just too blind to see it. It's time to open my eyes.
"Let's get out of here before someone finds us," I suggest.
~
He thought I was unconscious but I'm not. I struggled to stay awake to hear what she had to say but now I wish I hadn't. I'm too weak to stop them as they sneak away and disappear through the maze of hallways. Where they're headed and whether or not my security will capture them is a mystery to me but I am sure of one thing...
She is her daddy's little girl.
Everything goes black. I've heard enough.
~
"She used to tie her hair up in ribbons and bows, sign her letter with X's and O's, she's got a picture of her mama in heels and pearls, she's trying to make it in her daddy's world..."
~
AN: Special thanks to my new beta reader, Sydney, who did a wonderful job in fine-tuning this story.