Illusion of Sin
A/N yes this next chapter backtracks, don't be confused! Also I rewrote history a little so that Weiss' son Zack would have been born sometime during season one or just before it.

Illusion Of Sin
Chapter 1 Recap

Rory stood unmoving as her father turned back to her. He took several steps and then stopped, looking as though he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"What is it?" she asked fearfully. "Is Zack going to be okay?"

He opened his mouth but no words came out and all he could do was hold open his arms. She flew into them, whispers of questions that went unanswered. Jonah Summers, better known as Will Tippin, could do nothing, but hold her in his arms and thank God that his daughter safe. She might never be able to trust him again after what he had to tell her, but she was alive and that was all that mattered. His daughter meant more to him than life itself. He would die for her.

Illusion of Sin

Part Two
Field of Innocence

One year earlier

Rory Summers balanced the cordless phone between her ear and shoulder with practiced ease as she began unloading a box of books into the built in wall shelving. "Dad, I know you wanted to be here, but I couldn't wait the apartment opened up and it's right on the beach. I love it. Yes I can afford it, no I don't need any money I'm doing fine."

"I still don't see why you had to transfer, and so quickly." Her father's voice was stubborn on the other end of the phone.

"Face it Dad, you're just upset because you hate LA and your little girl moved even farther away from you, and you couldn't help her move." Rory flopped down on the only available chair and kicked her shoes off sending them flying into the wall. "It's a wonderful opportunity for me dad. At this publishing company I can actually make decisions as opposed to just shuffling papers around like I did in Nevada."

"What about school?"

"Daddy, we've been over this six billion times. In the fall I'll start distance studies from UCLA. I can work at my own pace, do more courses in a shorter time span and it will mesh so much better with my work schedule."

"I just don't want this job affecting your education."

"You know more than anyone how much I want to be a high school teacher. I am not about to let my job with the publishing company stand in the way of that goal." Her voice was firm giving no further room for argument. "I'm okay, I promise."

"I know sweetheart," her father sighed heavily. "I just want you to do better than your old man."

"Dad, you did great, so what if you didn't have a university education. You raised me the best you could and you are a wonderful father. Mom would be proud"

"And you are too kind," her father laughed lightly. "I hope she would be."

"I know she would be. Will it make you feel better if I told you that I miss you terribly?" Rory said sweetly.

"Maybe just a little," her father admitted.

"Good, because I do, and I have to go, I have a meeting at work. I'll call you tomorrow okay?"

"Alright, bye sweetheart."

"Bye Daddy."

Rory hung up the phone and checked her watch. She had thirty minutes before she had to leave. Just enough time for a quick shower. Glancing around the room her heart fell. She'd moved the day before and still she had yet to unpack the majority of her stuff. Boxes were stacked all over the room and she couldn't find a thing she was looking for. Walking over she spotted the shoes she'd kicked off before and found a box she'd been looking for all morning. Opening it carefully she removed a framed 4x6 photograph. It was of her mother and father. The only photograph she had of her mother.

Carrying it into her bedroom, she sat on her bed and studied the photograph. It wasn't by any means the best photograph, but it was a copy of the only one she had and the most treasured possession she owned. She traced the outline of her mother's face and hair smiling as she touched her dimples and wide smile. Wiping a tear away with her knuckle, she swallowed the lump in her throat and set the photograph on her bedside table. Time for her first day of work.

Rory sat on the leather chair glancing around the well-furnished office. After passing through all the security measures she'd been led to the directors office where she had been waiting for the past forty-five minutes. As the door opened she stood and turned.

"Agent Summers I presume." A tall dark skinned man with graying hair entered carrying a handful of files that threatened to spill onto the floor.

Rory caught a handful with ease as they slipped from his grasp. "Yes, she nodded and handed them back to her superior.

The man dumped them on his desk and turned to face her. Perching on the edge of his desk he extended his hand and she shook it. "Director Dixon," he introduced himself. "Have a seat," he motioned to the chair and picked through the mass of files on his desk for hers. "I'm sorry for keeping you waiting," Dixon apologized. "We just got a major breakthrough on a case we've been working on for about six months and things are a little chaotic to say the least. Which is why I'm happy you're here. This case deals with a lot of coding and linguistics, your area of specialty so you'll be right to work in no time."

"Sounds exciting," she said truthfully.

"Well you might regret saying that," he laughed and opened her file. "Well Agent Summers I am very impressed with your history. Graduating at the top of your class, nothing but impressive remarks from your superiors. Nevada was sorry to loose you and we are happy to have you here, I'm sure you'll fit right in."

"Thank you Sir."

"Now I know you've read and signed about 800 non disclosure forms yesterday but for my own knowledge, what is it that your friends and family think you do?"

"It's just my dad and I," Rory explained. "He thinks I work for the Klarix Publishing Company and that I was just transferred from the Nevada to the LA Branch."

"Lying to those you love is not easy," Dixon sympathized and Rory nodded in agreement. "But you understand how important anonymity is, particularly with this office. The work you will be doing here is much more complex and dangerous than working as an analyst in Nevada."

"Field work is what I want," she nodded confidently.

"We're lucky to have you." Dixon stood and opened his office door gesturing to her to follow.

"Thank you Sir." Rory followed him into the rotunda, which was a bustle of activity. She surveyed the scene before her, breathing deeply, excited and nervous at the same time. This is what she'd been waiting for, for the last two years. A chance to be where the action was. No more pushing papers and analyzing reports like she did at the office in Nevada. This was where the real work was.

"This is Agent Weiss." Dixon introduced her to a man around her age. He'll show you around and get you started. If you need anything, just ask."

"Thank you Sir." Rory shook his hand and turned to the other agent.

"Call me Zack please. Agent Weiss sounds like my father." He stood with a grin and extended his hand.

"Rory."

"Interesting name," he commented stepping out from behind his desk.

"It's short for Aurora," she explained quickly shaking his hand. Both looked down as their hands lingered for a moment before parting. She looked up taking in his appearance. He stood taller than she did by three or four inches with thick dark hair and light hazel eyes that she couldn't seem took look away from. He had a nice smile with slight dimples that showed and he seemed to be a genuinely nice person. She had a hard time deciding if the butterflies in her stomach were from nervousness or the fact that he was extremely good looking.

Zack was fully aware of how much longer than necessary he'd held on to her hand and he didn't think she minded in the least. The first thing he noticed was her eyes. They were this brilliant shade of blue. They were captivating and he had a hard time looking away. "It's nice to meet you," he said finally. His lips broke into a smile as she blushed and tucked her hair behind her ear, her nose wrinkling slightly. It was cute. She wasn't wearing a ring. Not that he'd expected her to. She seemed young, his age or a year or two younger.

"I'll show you around." Placing a hand on the small of her back, Zack led Rory to the middle of the rotunda. "Welcome to the JTF." He watched her, bringing a smile to his lips as she slowly turned round in a circle taking it all in, excitement dancing in her eyes. He leaned in close to her and whispered in her ear. "It can be heaven or hell, depending on how you look at it.

"I'll have to take your word on that." She laughed again and turned to face him. It was at that moment that Zackary Weiss quickly realized how difficult it was going to be, not to fall in love with her.

The weeks passed by quickly for Rory. Director Dixon had been right. She was immediately put to work and it seemed the lengthy coded files, full of different languages would never end. Her desk sat opposite Zack's and in many ways he was her saving grace. Or her saving sanity might be a better term. If not for him, she'd have probably run from the building screaming after her first week on the job. She hadn't however and Zack did everything he could to make her feel welcome. She didn't make friends easily and her new job was of no exception.

In school she'd skipped several grades already creating herself an outcast by sheer age in High School. She wasn't loud or perky nor did she fit any of the regular school stereotypes. Growing up she'd have rather run a five-mile jog than go to a football game and scream her lungs out.

Zack seemed to understand this and didn't take offense when she refused his invitations to join himself and others for lunch. Instead he would invite her out again the next day, just the two of them or when work didn't permit they'd eat at her desk pouring over the latest Intel together.

Rory Summers was unique.

She could speak more languages than he could keep track of. She bit her lip when she was nervous or self-conscious. She wore glasses for reading and chewed on the lids of her pens. When she was angry she would lapse into French. Russian if she was annoyed. Spanish if she was frustrated. And Italian if she was upset. She preferred burgers to salads hands down and wasn't afraid to get a little dirty. She loved reading murder mysteries but she also loved the classics, and always had a soft spot in her heart for Alice in Wonderland. They had a lot in common including their enjoyment of films, especially the classics and old black and whites. Every day he seemed to discover something new about her.

It was at the beginning of her second month at the JTF when things began to change. She was assigned fieldwork and with that a partner, ten years her senior named Byron Richards. She also performed many solo assignments and for that Zack was appointed her handler.

He was her handler and she was his asset.

He speced out the missions. He went over the details with her. She carried them out.

There was nothing more than that.

There could never be anything more than that.

He was her handler and nothing more.

If she was nothing more, then why did she haunt his dreams at night?

He had a recurring nightmare every time she went on a mission. It was based on the result of a previous one. Two months into their handler/asset relationship she went solo on a simple operation.

It was supposed to be a simple mission but she was captured. They lost communications. It was two days before any information was recovered. An extraction team was arraigned and she was found. A little battered and worse for wear but she was alive. It was the first time since he'd become her handler that he hugged her. With two black eyes, bruised ribs, a split lip, and a sprained wrist she stepped off the helicopter and had gone straight to him. She was quiet and he held her squeezing tight until she whimpered in pain. He pulled away and checked her over quickly promptly declaring that she needed medical attention. She refused wanting only to go home and go to bed. Debrief could wait until the following morning. He relented and drove her home.

After dropping her off at home he'd gone to his apartment. The sleeplessness of the last two days caught up to him and he was out cold in no time. An hour later the phone rang. He answered to dead silence. He was about to hang up when she whispered his name. It felt like his heart stopped until she said it again, this time a little louder and clearer than the first. It took a lot of coaxing to get her to even say another word.

He knew there was something wrong the moment she'd stepped off the helo. There was something in her eyes that her capture aside, told him something was very wrong. He arraigned to meet her on the pier. She didn't even hear him approach.

"Rory?" He touched her bare shoulder and she near jumped three feet in the air.

He saw the absolute look of terror in her eyes and the tears on her cheeks. It was worse than he thought.

She was crying. Aurora Summers was the strongest woman he had ever met. It wasn't that he didn't think she could cry, but for the first time he felt like he was seeing the true her. He'd never seen her lose even the slightest bit of control. He'd never seen her cry.

She was the epitome of what every good agent should be. Smart, resourceful, adventurous, clear headed, caring, in control. She was everything. But now, he was seeing her for the person she really was. A woman, who despite all her remarkable strengths, was also incredibly vulnerable.

"Rory, what happened?"

She tried to say his name. She couldn't. She couldn't even look at him.

He took her arm forcing her to turn away from the midnight ocean. Without the railing to hold on to, she couldn't stand and he grabbed her as her knees buckled, going down with her.

"Please tell me." He begged her quickly checking her body for any physical ailments other than the ones he already knew about. He could find none. No gunshot or knife wounds. No broken bones or burns. Nothing that could physically explain her change in behavior or the significant amount of pain she appeared to be in.

He held her. There was nothing more he could do. Kneeling on the old wood of the pier he cradled her body against his and allowed her to cry into his chest. He rubbed her back lightly in small circles, stroked her silky dark hair, rubbed her arms and whispered anything he could think of. Anything to calm her down and momentarily take her mind off what ever pained her. He told her everything would be all right. Promised to help her and together they would fix what ever was wrong. He ran out of things to tell her and so he told her of his childhood.

In quiet whispers he told her how his father would take him to the beach when he was a child. They'd build sandcastles too close to the shoreline knowing full well the tide would wash them away. His father was always busy with work but whenever it was a trip to the beach he knew that the day would be uninterrupted. That was what made it so special. It wasn't about the sandcastles or playing in the water. It wasn't about watching the sunset or building a fire and roasting marshmallows. It was that for that one day to his father, Zack was the only person who mattered and watching the tide wash their castles away just seemed right.

He told her about his first hockey practice and his first game. He thought he even heard a small laugh come from deep within her when he told her about the first and only time he'd been suspended from hockey for a seemingly innocent practical joke the night before a big away game. He told her stories about his first two wheeler bike, how he'd broken his wrist when he was nine attempting to climb up the side of his house and even the first yo-yo his father had ever given him.

His words became few and far between. She was calmer now, but still gasped for breaths and hiccuped as she choked back a sob. He sat on the pier holding her until her eyes dried and her breathing regulated. Neither spoke. A thousand thoughts were going through Zack's mind. A hundred questions he wanted to ask but didn't. She didn't need that now. She needed to feel safe and secure and realize that whatever demons haunted her she could fight.

Slowly Rory regained control and pulled away from him. "You must think I'm some kind of a crazy person calling you up in the middle of the night." She smiled apologetically and stood wiping the residual tears from her cheeks. She shivered slightly from the night air and leaned against the rail overlooking the water. She was dressed in a pair of grey cotton pants and a light blue spaghetti strap tank top.

"Actually I'm glad you called me. I want to help if I can." Zack stood and slipped off the long sleeved shirt he'd hastily thrown over his undershirt as he'd left his apartment. He draped it over her shoulders noting the burn mark near her shoulder blade from a stun gun and the dark bruises and scrapes on her back and arms. "Rory, can you tell me what happened?" he asked quietly as she slipped her arms through the sleeves of his shirt.

"I don't know," she whispered stretching her arms over the rail as if trying to fly.

"Rory, as your handler, I need to know what happened in Peru. If those circumstances will affect future performances, your safety or your work with the agency, I need to know-"

"Why are you always so business," she sighed propping her chin up in her palm. "Why can't we just be friends."

Zack leaned over the rail slightly so that he could see her face. "I'm not asking just as your handler Rory- I'm asking as your friend too. I thought we were friends."

"We're not friends Zack." She gave a light laugh and turned to face him. "We work together. We're colleagues. That's all we are."

"Well apparently I misunderstood our relationship because in addition to working together I was under the impression that we were friends-"

"No. We work together; we'll never really be friends. Not really."

"Well I'm sorry you feel that way." Zack was indeed sorry. He had honestly felt that they were friends. "That aside, as your handler, I still need to know what happened in Peru."

Rory nodded. She opened her mouth to tell him but no words came out. "I don't know if I can," she whispered.

"You can," he said confidently a hand on her shoulder squeezing it lightly. "Just start at the beginning."

"I-I can't do it." Rory turned and ran from the pier down onto the sandy beach below. Zack chased her and caught up with her near the shoreline. He walked beside her in silence an arm resting casually on the small of her back hoping that the light touch would prevent her from bolting again.

"Rory, I know you're scared," he said softly, his gaze cast at the miles of endless sandy beach ahead. "I think that something horrible happened in Peru." He took a deep breath and grasped her hand forcing her to stop and turn to look at him. "I wonder if maybe someone hurt you. If… maybe they did something to you that is difficult to talk about."

Rory looked down at their clasped hands. She knew she should pull away, it wasn't right, but she couldn't. Their hands seemed to be molded together. His eyes were dark and full of a concern that could only be described as pain. She almost wished she could allow him to believe that she had been harmed in that manner, then he wouldn't know the truth. He'd never learn the truth about what she'd done. She couldn't do it. She couldn't lie to him.

"It's not what you're thinking. No one hurt me like that." His grip on her hand lessened a little and she felt his relief.

"Then what?" Zack's hands came up to her face and brushed a wayward tear from her cheek with his thumb. He titled her head up to look him in the eye. "You were captured and interrogated, I know that much, but there is something else. Why are you so scared? Why are you in so much pain? Tell me." He released her hand and brought it up moving her hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear. "Please Aurora." He cupped her face in his hands and waited.

Rory closed her eyes; fresh tears appeared on her cheeks. Inside her head, her thoughts were screaming but her lips couldn't form the words to tell him what had happened. "There was so much blood." Her words were soft and her voice quivered slightly. "I never knew that someone could bleed that much." She opened her eyes looking into his. Her voice trembled as she told him what she'd done. "Zack, I killed a man."

She was trying to be strong, he knew it. But he also wanted her to know that she didn't have to be. He pulled her to him and wrapped his arms tightly around her. It all made sense now.

"I took his life," After a few minutes Rory pulled away from him and wiped her cheeks. "He came out of nowhere and he had his gun pointed at me. Everything was crazy. There were alarms and guards chasing me. The codes wouldn't work and he was shooting at me and I shot him. Then they caught me." Her hand shook as wiped furiously at her cheeks. "I never shot anyone before Zack and I killed him."

"Rory, I know this won't make you feel any better, but you were just doing your job." Zack put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. "I won't lie by saying that I know what you're going through. I've never been in that position, but I do know that you did what you had to do to survive and that doesn't make you any less of a good person."

"It doesn't make it any easier," she shook her head sadly. "He had a family, maybe even children. I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost my dad. He means everything to me."

Zack nodded understanding completely. Rory had once confessed to him that her father was her best friend and often her only friend. Growing up hadn't been easy for her. Her mother had died when she was a baby and they moved frequently due to her father's work, usually not staying in the same state for more than two years. That made it quite difficult to forge friendships. Zack could understand and sympathize with her. Growing up his father was always busy with work, going away on many business trips so it was often just him and his mother. When he was twelve, his mother died of cancer and his father gave up the travel lifestyle of the CIA. They were all each other had and the closest of friends.

"You may not think we're friends, but I'll always be here for you Rory." Zack crossed his arms over his chest. "You have my number, whatever you need, when ever you need it. Just call. This stays between you and I, unless it affects your safety or work performance." He paused for a moment to consider his next choice of words. "That said, I will make a request that you see Dr. Barnett. However, if you do not I will have to order you to do so. There are things that you need to talk about and Barnett is good."

Rory nodded appreciative of the fact that he was keeping this between the two of them even if the trade off was having to see a shrink. "I'll make an appointment tomorrow."

"Good." The two turned around and began walking back towards the pier. "I just don't understand what went wrong, why those security codes failed." Zack had gone over every possible outcome when he'd designed the operation to obtain old KGB documents from a hidden safe in an underground club in Peru. All of his secondary safeguards had been overridden. Rory was destined to fail the moment she entered the club.

"They knew I was there," Rory said softly.

"What?" Zack stopped dead in his tracks and looked at her.

"They were waiting for me. That's why the whole operation went to hell." Rory's eyes were burning with anger. "Zack they knew I was coming."

"But how is that possible-" he asked himself not wanting to say the answer out loud.

"They were waiting for me. Zack, I was set up. That was the other thing I needed to tell you. That was why I wanted debrief postponed until tomorrow."

"You're saying-"

"Yes." She nodded firmly. "Zack they knew my name. Someone in the CIA told Andrei Slother everything. When I was coming, where I would be and what I was after."

"Are you sure?" he asked in disbelief.

"Zack, he knew my father's name."

"Alright." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he analyzed the situation. He took a pen from his pocket and wrote an address on her hand. "Meet me here tomorrow at 7 AM. It's an old warehouse. It's secure. There's someone I want to talk to about this before we tell Dixon."

Rory nodded. They reached her car and she opened the door. "Thank you for coming and talking with me. I didn't realize that it would be so hard. This isn't like me. I don't just call strange men up in the middle of the night and cry on their shoulder."

Zack waited until she'd closed the car door before speaking. "You have my number. You can always call me Rory, no matter what. I'm here for you. I'll be wherever you need. But call Barnett tomorrow."

"I will," she nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Drive safe." Zack waved her off and waited until her car was out of sight before he collapsed into the driver's seat of his own. He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and dialed a familiar number.

"Hey Uncle Mike, it's Zack… Sorry for calling so late… I need to see you, it's important. Can you meet me at the warehouse tomorrow morning at 7… alright see you then."

He sat in his car for several minutes deep in thought before starting the engine and beginning the drive home. There was a mole within the CIA and he'd gotten his information directly from Zack. Rory nearly lost her life and it would have been his fault.