Chapter Two: Family Traits

Sydney looked up as her mother stomped out of the room, scowling. She glanced over at the remaining sister left in the room.

"Aunt Katya, why do you always steal mom's tea?" she asked, careful to keep a reasonable distance between herself and the most volatile of her aunts. She had barely known her for a day, and she could already tell that this was a trademark move of her aunt's.

Katya sipped from the liberated mug, eyes glittering. "Because Irina always makes such a fuss over nothing," she said quietly. "She always has, even when we were children bickering over toys." She shrugged. "We still play with the same toys, but we each have our own now. I have to be creative."

Sydney considered this. "They way you act together is very different than the way I've always known her to act," she pointed out, chin resting on clasped hands.

"Rushka wears her sisterly characteristics like an old coat," Katya replied bluntly. "She doesn't admit it, but it's comfortable to whine and bicker with us, even if the ragged hems let in the cold wind. But then, that's what sisters are for- to huddle together against the chill."

"I have trouble really understanding that," Sydney admitted, looking down at a sheaf of papers between her elbows. "Growing up alone was… different."

Katya shot her a cold look. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Siblings are difficult. Being an only child is difficult. Successfully skinning a man is difficult. I don't put up with sighs and excuses," she said staunchly, then amended her statement thoughtfully. "Except for Rushka's, sometimes."

Sydney raised a brow. "You love her, don't you?"

Katya blinked slowly. "Of course. You don't?"

Sydney shook her head quickly. "Of course I do… I think."

Katya narrowed her eyes. "You… think?"

"Errr…" Sydney suddenly had the feeling she had backed herself into a corner. Of course she loved her mother. Just, you know, twenty years was still something worth working through.

In the end, her father saved her, per usual.

"Daddy," she gasped, catapulting herself out of her seat and almost tackling him as he walked through the door. "Thank God you're h- err, I mean, I'm so glad to see you!"

Jack glared at Katya over Sydney's shoulder. "Katya. You always turn up in the most interesting places."

She smiled winningly. "You know me, Jack." She paused wickedly. "Jacky. I always go where I'm most needed."

Jack sighed and tried to wrest his coat away from his daughter's clinging fingers. "I'm glad to see you too, Sydney," he told her absently, trying to unclench her grasp. "Katya, is that Irina's tea?" he asked suspiciously, gaze falling on the white mug.

She smiled maliciously. "Yes. Tell me, Jack. What are you doing here this evening? Perhaps you've been secreting passive transmitters on Rushka again… that would explain how you have the uncanny knack of always finding her."

Sydney pulled away abruptly. "What was that?" she asked, apprehensive. "Passive transmitters?" She planted her hands on her hips. "Dad, you slept with mom again? Daddy!"

"Don't pitch a fit, Sydney," Irina groused from the doorway to the hall, her trademark glare at ten-fold. She switched her gaze to Jack. "Passive transmitters, Jack?"

He involuntarily took a small step back. "No, I don't know anything about transmitters, dear." The look in her eyes doubled. "My love. My darling. My beautiful gazelle bounding through the woods."

Katya cackled, leaning her head on her hands. Sydney winced.

Irina took a step back. "I'm not sure that was entirely necessary, Jack."

He shrugged. "Oh, I know. But I really know nothing about any transmitters." He gave her an innocent look. She quirked a brow, and walked over to him.

"If you say so, Jack." She leaned in to kiss him (Sydney turned away, face squinched). Just as their lips were about to meet, Irina's hand darted into one of his pockets.

She scampered to the other side of the room, waving the small device at him. "No transmitters, was that it, Jack?"

He prepared to die. "Well, Irina…"

She examined it carefully, showing it to Katya. "Look, Katushka. A little dot at this address, and it's labeled-" she stopped, frowning.

Katya grabbed the device from her. "Labeled schnookums?" She sighed dramatically, clutching it to her chest. "Jack, Jack, Jack. You didn't need to choose such a generic pet name just to hide the fact that you were tracking… me."

She shot a sly look at Irina, and barely managed to get out of the range of her sister's fists. "Rushka, no need to be so touchy…"

Sydney took a seat on the counter, taking care to hide the knives behind her.

Jack shook his head ruefully, watching as his wife stalked his sister-in-law around the table, eyes glittering.

"Katya," Irina hissed. "I think…"

Suddenly, she paused. And to Jack's horror, her gaze switched to him, her eyes gleaming.

"Jack," she said huskily, crooking a finger in his direction. Was that a knife he saw strapped beneath her shirt? "Come talk to me."

"Now there will be none of that," Elena interrupted firmly, walking in with a file in one hand. She snatched the device from Katya's hands. "What kind of family is this? Everyone- yes, everyone- sit down before I get out my gun." She looked over at Sydney. "On the other hand, stay there, Sydney. It was a good idea to hide the knives."

Katya suddenly looked interested. "Knives? She's sitting in front of the knives?"

"Katya," Elena warned. "Sit. Everybody."

Katya took her time selecting a seat, watching with interest as Irina all but leapt into Jack's lap (much to Sydney's disgust).

Irina examined her nails innocently, ignoring Elena's sigh. "You could have taken a chair, Rushka."

"I was trying to conserve seats," Irina replied blandly, jabbing an elbow into Jack's ribs. "Besides… he wanted to know where I was, obviously. Might as well give him a constant physical reminder…"

Jack was beginning to look like he was enjoying himself. "Can I call you that?"

"What?"

"Rushka."

The elbow slammed against his ribs again. "No! Think up your own damn pet name, but not Rushka and not schnookums!"

Sydney began considering the merits of taking one of the knives from the rack behind her and putting it to use. It had been good thinking to buy those extra-sharp, extra-long cooking knives, she reflected. So shiny. So destructive. So very, very attractive at the moment.

Knives weren't just for slicing tomatoes anymore, obviously. These were family reunion, hands-to-the-table knives. A wonderful notion, Sydney thought, and her hands itched to pin flesh to wood.

On the other hand, that would be so messy. She hated blood on her furniture. She hated gouges in the wood. No, the knives would have to stay where they were.

Elena sat warily in the seat between Katya and the fighting pair. "So," she said sternly. "Jack, I assume you know why we're here."

"Of course," he huffed. "Ms. Reed, right? I've onto her for months."

Sydney decided that while knives were not acceptable to throw, Tupperware was.

"What?!" she screamed, flinging the plastic containers at his head (Irina ducked just enough to avoid the worst). "I've been through unmitigated hell over this for who knows how long and you never bothered to tell me? Daddy!"

He sent the majority of it flying back at her, his aim only slightly put off by the fact that he couldn't really turn around to face his daughter. "Sydney, I've promised you a lot of things, but I never promised to tell you everything you wanted to know. This information was on need-to-know basis and-"

"And I needed to know!" she finished, pushing a strand of hair roughly out of her face, the Tupperware scattered on the floor beneath her feet.

Katya considered making popcorn. What an entertaining family she had stumbled into. "Rushka," she said slyly, "I believe you. She really is your daughter, after all."

Irina crossed her arms, looking slightly petulant. "Elena, this is getting rather out of control."

Jack sighed. "I apologize for not telling you, Sydney," he said out of the blue. She gaped at him.

Irina smiled. "That's the man I married," she murmured, and patted his hand.

"That was interesting," Elena muttered dryly. "Well, now that everyone knows, and we all know that we know that we all know-"

Katya snickered. Elena glared.

"-we can plan." She turned to Jack again. "I must admit, having you along for the ride is some unexpected help."

He shrugged. "I knew the chances were good that if Irina was in town, all of you had followed. I figured you were either plotting against someone- and who better than Reed?- or going to a convention."

"A convention?" Katya replied, frowning. "What, a mercenary convention? I didn't realize they did those in America."

"Probably not as good as the one in Greece," Irina chipped in. "Do you remember that short little man who kept hitting on Elena?"

Katya sat up straighter in her chair, while Elena sunk further into hers. "Yes! And she was trying to be all polite and sweet, and he wasn't taking no for an answer-"

"But he did," Irina interrupted in a singsong tone.

"-so we pinned his hands to a table!" Katya finished triumphantly. Irina nodded, smiling.

"Good times," she commented, and kicked Elena under the table. "Keep talking, dear."

"Yes," Elena said wearily, pulling herself back up. "Can we count on you to get Reed to the place of our choosing?" she asked Jack, tying her hair back into a short ponytail. He nodded. She sighed, relieved. "Fine. Sydney, I assume you want to deal the final blow?"

Sydney looked surprisingly reluctant. "I don't think so."

"Why not?" Irina demanded, looking at her over Jack's shoulder.

"Well, we didn't kill you," she replied reasonably. "Well, there may have been a few half-hearted attempts, but come on! You're sitting in dad's lap and still breathing. Besides," she continued. "I can't kill his wife. He'd never come near me then."

She slid off the counter and kicked the Tupperware out of her way, stomping out of the room.

Katya propped her chin on her right hand. "Flawed logic," she said in a clipped tone. "He'd sleep with her, anyway."

Jack growled quietly, and Irina threw the device across the table at Katya's head. She ducked, and the small black box buried itself in the sheetrock of the wall.

"She's going make you pay for that, you know," Elena reprimanded, and pulled a calculator out of her pocket. "Let's see," she murmured. "Damage to the sheetrock, scratches in her coffee table, knives in the doors, broken dishware, bent silverware…"

She whistled at the amount reflected on the small screen. "Impressive. Very impressive. It's-"

She looked up. "Where are the two of you going?" she asked indignantly as Jack and Irina stood.

"Out," Irina replied enigmatically. "Don't wait up." She looked smug as Jack ushered her out the door.

Katya drummed her fingers absently on the table, and finally poked the empty mug in front of her. "She didn't even try to have tea before she left," she sniffed.

"You'll just have to make your own," Elena replied sensibly.

Katya sighed, peeved. "Damn Rushka. Always spoiling my fun."