Last Dance
AN: You see what feedback does to me?? It makes me get off my hands and write faster! Thanks for your support, guys!
Chapter Four
Laura was going through the motions for the rest of the day. She vacuumed, mopped, and scoured, cursing herself for thinking she'd escaped her past finally.
Anya's appearance haunted her. Her own sister- no, Irina's sister- asked her if she cared about Sydney and accepted a lie. She was so confused. Why wouldn't Anya love Sydney too? At 3:30, the afternoon carpool dropped Sydney off at home. "Look what I drew, mommy!" she exclaimed, waving a piece of white paper in the air above her head.
Laura took the picture into her hands. It was a family portrait, herself, Laura, and Jack, at her favorite park feeding the ducks at the pond.
"It's lovely, baby," Laura said, hugging Sydney. "Why don't you go put it on Daddy's desk- I bet it will be his favorite."
Sydney took the picture away, handling it carefully as she walked away.
Around 5:30, Jack walked in, dropping his briefcase and coat as Sydney dashed towards him. Laura made her way to Jack more slowly, greeting him with a kiss and a "Dinner will be ready in half an hour."
Sydney lead her father to the study, exclaiming, "Look at the picture I drew! Mommy said you'd like it."
Laura began to tear up at the image- father holding his daughter's hand- and she realized this was one of this little girl's last days of normalcy. In a matter of five days, Laura would die, and Sydney would no longer have a mother.
***
Laura stayed awake later than normal tonight, as her head and heart raged war on each other.
"This is your job. You came, you seduced, you learned, and now you leave. Veni vedi vici, you know?" her head told her.
"But you didn't count on the fact you'd fall in love, did you? You didn't count on Sydney's birth to attach you even more to Jack, if that was even possible," her heart screeched back.
"Look, if you don't go, they'll kill Jack and Sydney. If you tell them, you'll run away, and they'll kill all three of you. You go, you die, but they live. Plain and simple. I don't get why you're getting all worked up...Remember how you thought this would be easy?" her head taunted.
"Why can't I fix this? We've made things right before..." the heart countered back.
"You know who you are. What, did you think you were really Laura Bristow? Would Laura have killed William Vaughn? And the others?" Laura's head had the final word.
*** Anya returned to her hotel that night frustrated and angry at what Irina had become. Hadn't she vowed to become powerful? If this is what Irina called powerful, Russia was d*mned. Oh, she'd completed her mission of course- she'd sent a barrage of information to her KGB superiors. But she fell in love in the process. How rich of her, Anya thought angrily. I heard she'd called this mission simple. Well, let's see how simple it is to finish the mission.
She knew she'd left Irina confused. The woman was probably sitting at home wondering what the h*ll had just transpired. Why Anya had become so cold. Why Anya didn't she what Irina saw in this life.
Irina has no clue how hard the last decade has been on her family. After life in Russia had continued to deteriorate, Anya had decided to follow her sister's footsteps in becoming an agent for the government. She worked so she wouldn't have to see the rest of the family starve- her mother and father, cousins, aunts and uncles. She worked so she wouldn't see her family fall ill and die, like so many around her.
I have every right to be bitter. Irina has been living a dream life while we're at home falling apart. She doesn't deserve it. It's as if she has forgotten why she chose this path in the first place.
***
"How long does it take you to get ready?" Jack yelled upstairs to Laura, hoping she would hear him through the bathroom door.
"You should know, you've been with me how long?" she bellowed back, putting the finishing touches on her makeup.
She sauntered downstairs, making sure Jack knew how she noticed his eyes followed her at all times. She smiled as she gathered Sydney into a hug.
"Make sure you behave for Michelle," she warned Sydney as she turned her daughter over to the babysitter's care.
She kissed Sydney several times- in compliance with tradition- and she finally grabbed Jack's hand and headed towards the car.
The restaurant they were going to- Chez Pierre- was a favorite of theirs, since it was where they had their first date together. They ordered their traditional meal- foie gras with red wine- and talked about the future Laura realized they would never have as they waited for their food.
"I think Sydney ought to be lonely by now," Jack said, flirting with Laura. The candlelight and first glass of wine were starting to get to him.
"Mmm, that a fact. You sure that's the only reason you want more children?" she flirted back, smiling.
"Well, practicing is always fun," he shot back, smirking.
"Hmmm, practicing..." Laura whispered seductively. She leaned in to kiss him, but the waiter rudely interrupted the couple by presenting their entrees.
She was surprised at her own performance. Here she was, four days before her life would be shattered, before Jack's and Sydney's were ruined as well, and she was leading Jack on by making plans for their future. In reality, Laura felt nothing but despair. She was so surprised that no one had figured out something was wrong.
So why don't you tell them, then, her heart piped up once more.
But by then, her mind had already won. In revealing her fallacy, she'd endanger not just herself and Jack, but Sydney as well- she couldn't do that to her own child. As it was, she was afraid that once she was gone, nothing would stop the people she worked for than to kill the family she'd left behind.
***
And now I think that I should have confessed to Jack. I think I was stupid to think we couldn't handle whatever the threat was. Sydney and Jack were so strong, so perseverant, that they could make a death threat seem like a mere trifle. I try to force myself to stop thinking about what happened. Mourning for the past won't do any good, I tell myself. But I can't. The whole story has to be told, not just a part.
***
AN: You see what feedback does to me?? It makes me get off my hands and write faster! Thanks for your support, guys!
Chapter Four
Laura was going through the motions for the rest of the day. She vacuumed, mopped, and scoured, cursing herself for thinking she'd escaped her past finally.
Anya's appearance haunted her. Her own sister- no, Irina's sister- asked her if she cared about Sydney and accepted a lie. She was so confused. Why wouldn't Anya love Sydney too? At 3:30, the afternoon carpool dropped Sydney off at home. "Look what I drew, mommy!" she exclaimed, waving a piece of white paper in the air above her head.
Laura took the picture into her hands. It was a family portrait, herself, Laura, and Jack, at her favorite park feeding the ducks at the pond.
"It's lovely, baby," Laura said, hugging Sydney. "Why don't you go put it on Daddy's desk- I bet it will be his favorite."
Sydney took the picture away, handling it carefully as she walked away.
Around 5:30, Jack walked in, dropping his briefcase and coat as Sydney dashed towards him. Laura made her way to Jack more slowly, greeting him with a kiss and a "Dinner will be ready in half an hour."
Sydney lead her father to the study, exclaiming, "Look at the picture I drew! Mommy said you'd like it."
Laura began to tear up at the image- father holding his daughter's hand- and she realized this was one of this little girl's last days of normalcy. In a matter of five days, Laura would die, and Sydney would no longer have a mother.
***
Laura stayed awake later than normal tonight, as her head and heart raged war on each other.
"This is your job. You came, you seduced, you learned, and now you leave. Veni vedi vici, you know?" her head told her.
"But you didn't count on the fact you'd fall in love, did you? You didn't count on Sydney's birth to attach you even more to Jack, if that was even possible," her heart screeched back.
"Look, if you don't go, they'll kill Jack and Sydney. If you tell them, you'll run away, and they'll kill all three of you. You go, you die, but they live. Plain and simple. I don't get why you're getting all worked up...Remember how you thought this would be easy?" her head taunted.
"Why can't I fix this? We've made things right before..." the heart countered back.
"You know who you are. What, did you think you were really Laura Bristow? Would Laura have killed William Vaughn? And the others?" Laura's head had the final word.
*** Anya returned to her hotel that night frustrated and angry at what Irina had become. Hadn't she vowed to become powerful? If this is what Irina called powerful, Russia was d*mned. Oh, she'd completed her mission of course- she'd sent a barrage of information to her KGB superiors. But she fell in love in the process. How rich of her, Anya thought angrily. I heard she'd called this mission simple. Well, let's see how simple it is to finish the mission.
She knew she'd left Irina confused. The woman was probably sitting at home wondering what the h*ll had just transpired. Why Anya had become so cold. Why Anya didn't she what Irina saw in this life.
Irina has no clue how hard the last decade has been on her family. After life in Russia had continued to deteriorate, Anya had decided to follow her sister's footsteps in becoming an agent for the government. She worked so she wouldn't have to see the rest of the family starve- her mother and father, cousins, aunts and uncles. She worked so she wouldn't see her family fall ill and die, like so many around her.
I have every right to be bitter. Irina has been living a dream life while we're at home falling apart. She doesn't deserve it. It's as if she has forgotten why she chose this path in the first place.
***
"How long does it take you to get ready?" Jack yelled upstairs to Laura, hoping she would hear him through the bathroom door.
"You should know, you've been with me how long?" she bellowed back, putting the finishing touches on her makeup.
She sauntered downstairs, making sure Jack knew how she noticed his eyes followed her at all times. She smiled as she gathered Sydney into a hug.
"Make sure you behave for Michelle," she warned Sydney as she turned her daughter over to the babysitter's care.
She kissed Sydney several times- in compliance with tradition- and she finally grabbed Jack's hand and headed towards the car.
The restaurant they were going to- Chez Pierre- was a favorite of theirs, since it was where they had their first date together. They ordered their traditional meal- foie gras with red wine- and talked about the future Laura realized they would never have as they waited for their food.
"I think Sydney ought to be lonely by now," Jack said, flirting with Laura. The candlelight and first glass of wine were starting to get to him.
"Mmm, that a fact. You sure that's the only reason you want more children?" she flirted back, smiling.
"Well, practicing is always fun," he shot back, smirking.
"Hmmm, practicing..." Laura whispered seductively. She leaned in to kiss him, but the waiter rudely interrupted the couple by presenting their entrees.
She was surprised at her own performance. Here she was, four days before her life would be shattered, before Jack's and Sydney's were ruined as well, and she was leading Jack on by making plans for their future. In reality, Laura felt nothing but despair. She was so surprised that no one had figured out something was wrong.
So why don't you tell them, then, her heart piped up once more.
But by then, her mind had already won. In revealing her fallacy, she'd endanger not just herself and Jack, but Sydney as well- she couldn't do that to her own child. As it was, she was afraid that once she was gone, nothing would stop the people she worked for than to kill the family she'd left behind.
***
And now I think that I should have confessed to Jack. I think I was stupid to think we couldn't handle whatever the threat was. Sydney and Jack were so strong, so perseverant, that they could make a death threat seem like a mere trifle. I try to force myself to stop thinking about what happened. Mourning for the past won't do any good, I tell myself. But I can't. The whole story has to be told, not just a part.
***