Functional Heart
PG-13
Serenity Sea
(Serenity_Sea@yahoo.com)
Author's notes: Just a thought I had after last Sunday's episode was over. I mean, if Irina went through all of that just to get out. why did she bother telling Sydney she loved her? Anyway, this is a short piece to use my ending to the episode/beginning to the new one. Also, the first part of this is supposed to be in italics and I don't know why it's not working, but the formatting is being stupid. so use your imagination.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the ALIAS characters-to JJ Abrams they belong.
DISTRIBUTION: You want it, it's yours. Just let me know where it's going.
SPOILERS: Season 2 up to A Dark Turn.
Summary: Post ADT. Irina thanked Sloane for extracting her, and Jack knew he had been played, yet again. He should have known by now, though, that nothing Irina does can be taken at face value.
Update List:
*~*~*~
"Thank you for extracting me," Irina clasped Sloane's hand and held for a second longer than necessary as he swung her up onto the seat next to him.
He stared at her, gauging her reaction while Sark situated himself in the passenger seat. "My pleasure. You have the Rambaldi documents?"
She handed them over and the car took off for an undisclosed location. Sark turned around his seat to see the ancient manuscript with his own eyes and to watch Irina. Something struck him as being off.
Sloane suddenly choked on a breath and Irina shifted to him in concern. "Are you all right?"
Sark placed his hand on the driver's arm and made him lower his speed. The driver did, heading for the docks.
"I'm. fine," Sloane reassured them, shaking his head to clear it. Irina turned her head to the window so that they wouldn't see the smirk on her face. Just a few more moments.
The blonde man met his partner's eyes in the rearview mirror questioningly. Sloane shook his head imperceptibly and handed the ancient pages up to him.
"How is Jack?"
Irina knew that if she stared at the window much longer, they would get suspicious. "He's well."
Sloane's eyebrow rose. "Just well? I hope he's getting enough sleep."
Up in front, Sark rolled his eyes. For two people who had had previous dealings such as these two, they picked the most mundane things to talk about. He focused his attention back on the road, tuning them out.
"I assume he's sleeping fine. My only opportunity to observe was. otherwise occupied."
A faint smirk graced his lips. "And Sydney? She's doing okay?"
'You sick, twisted, son of a bitch,' she thought. "Sydney is fine."
"She always reminded me of you."
"Really?" Her eyes remained poker-straight. "I've always thought she was more like Jack."
"I did ask her not to come after me," he spoke with an almost regretful inflection.
Her eyebrow rose. "And you mistakenly thought she would listen?"
He paused, considering. "I guess I did. For all I've done to her, Irina, I've always hoped that she would be happy. With SD-6 gone, she should have been."
Everything went in slow motion after that, even though she moved with feline-like accuracy and speed. Her front two legs kicked up and out, scoring direct hits on both Sark and the driver. Sloane, realizing what was happening, moved to stop her, but she evaded his hands and reached inside his jacket for the gun that she knew was there.
With it, she lifted it to his head and watched the fear slowly filter into his eyes. "I'll see you in Hell," she muttered, and fired the shot.
Like an auto-woman, Irina scrambled up to the front seat, knocked the driver out of the way and pulled the car to a stop. There was a cell phone resting in Sark's inner pocket and she took it, dialing the only number she knew.
"Hello?"
"Sydney. Call your father. Sloane's dead and Sark." she watched as the man struggled to regain consciousness. For good measure, she lifted her elbow to the side of his head, "Sark is ready to be brought in for questioning."
Against her daughter's shocked protests, she ended the call and opened the glove box in the van, finding two more guns, rope, and handcuffs. "Nice toys, gentlemen." She slapped a pair on Sark's wrists and got out of the car to drag him over a safe distance from the car.
Keeping one eye on the unconscious man and one closed for accuracy, she reached for one of the spare guns she'd put in her waistband. It took one shot to hit the gas tank.
The SWAT team, with Jack more than likely inside, arrived just in time to see the last of Arvin Sloane go up in literal flames.
* * *
"Don't you EVER do that, ever again!" Jack Bristow yelled to the beautiful woman sitting on the hotel bed.
She was currently tending to a wound on her upper arm; when the SWAT team had come in, a jumpy newbie had mistakenly fired at her, it just nicked her and she was paying for it in blood. Long, mahogany colored hair was pulled over to rest on her uninjured shoulder, though a few locks that were too short fell forward, framing her face.
"I understand you are upset with me. But I did it for Sydney's sake. You have to believe me."
He glared at her angrily for a few more moments. She waited him out and eventually, the expression on his face softened to one she couldn't quite put her finger on, but knew he affected it when speaking or thinking of their daughter.
"It wasn't-" he took a deep breath and resumed pacing, "I believe you. I just."
Irina stood up, hair falling to her mid-back, stepping in his path and effectively giving him pause. As of its own accord, her hand rose to touch his face. "You thought I was siding with Sloane."
Jack didn't contest the statement; he didn't have to. She saw and could clearly read the look on his face and something inside her dropped.
"You never told me you were changing the plan."
Irina smiled coolly, wondering why it hurt that he felt betrayed. "If I had let you known what I was up to, then you wouldn't have come after me. Sloane wouldn't have believed me." She turned to face the view of the city, unknowingly giving him a clear view of the bruises she had sustained in her struggle with the former head of SD-6. "As it is, we've recovered the Rambaldi manuscripts, Sark is in CIA custody-" her former cell, to be exact, "-and Sloane is dead. Sydney can leave and get on with her life."
Jack came up behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders, careful of her earlier wound from the tracer. Having calmed down considerably, he asked her, "And us? What goes on from here?"
She turned in his arms, her signature smile dancing on her lips. "I no doubt have to prove my worth to Kendall. Now that Sloane and Sark are taken care of, he may no longer have use for me. Who knows? Maybe. I'll become an agent again."
The words sent a chill through his body, knowing she did not mention things so casually unless she had a very good plan for following through on them. "I think I'd like that."
Irina's smile became full-fledged and she leaned up to kiss him. He ran his hands up and down her arms, ever careful of her wounds, and with some effort, separated them.
"Just so you know." Her eyes reluctantly opened and a trace of impatience could be seen as she waited for him to get to the point. "If you ever pull something like this again. I'll snap your neck." He was deadly serious and she knew it.
Still, she couldn't help but laugh at his fatal promise, knowing that he was fighting as hard as she had been to keep from falling back in love. The difference was, this time, it was for keeps. And she wasn't looking back or letting go.
"I believe you," Irina whispered, smoothing back his hair the same way she had nearly 20 years ago. "We have a full debriefing with Kendall tomorrow."
He knew the moves to this dance and she saw his features soften in answer. "We should probably get some rest."
"Mmm," she agreed, her lips against his.
* * *
PG-13
Serenity Sea
(Serenity_Sea@yahoo.com)
Author's notes: Just a thought I had after last Sunday's episode was over. I mean, if Irina went through all of that just to get out. why did she bother telling Sydney she loved her? Anyway, this is a short piece to use my ending to the episode/beginning to the new one. Also, the first part of this is supposed to be in italics and I don't know why it's not working, but the formatting is being stupid. so use your imagination.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the ALIAS characters-to JJ Abrams they belong.
DISTRIBUTION: You want it, it's yours. Just let me know where it's going.
SPOILERS: Season 2 up to A Dark Turn.
Summary: Post ADT. Irina thanked Sloane for extracting her, and Jack knew he had been played, yet again. He should have known by now, though, that nothing Irina does can be taken at face value.
Update List:
*~*~*~
"Thank you for extracting me," Irina clasped Sloane's hand and held for a second longer than necessary as he swung her up onto the seat next to him.
He stared at her, gauging her reaction while Sark situated himself in the passenger seat. "My pleasure. You have the Rambaldi documents?"
She handed them over and the car took off for an undisclosed location. Sark turned around his seat to see the ancient manuscript with his own eyes and to watch Irina. Something struck him as being off.
Sloane suddenly choked on a breath and Irina shifted to him in concern. "Are you all right?"
Sark placed his hand on the driver's arm and made him lower his speed. The driver did, heading for the docks.
"I'm. fine," Sloane reassured them, shaking his head to clear it. Irina turned her head to the window so that they wouldn't see the smirk on her face. Just a few more moments.
The blonde man met his partner's eyes in the rearview mirror questioningly. Sloane shook his head imperceptibly and handed the ancient pages up to him.
"How is Jack?"
Irina knew that if she stared at the window much longer, they would get suspicious. "He's well."
Sloane's eyebrow rose. "Just well? I hope he's getting enough sleep."
Up in front, Sark rolled his eyes. For two people who had had previous dealings such as these two, they picked the most mundane things to talk about. He focused his attention back on the road, tuning them out.
"I assume he's sleeping fine. My only opportunity to observe was. otherwise occupied."
A faint smirk graced his lips. "And Sydney? She's doing okay?"
'You sick, twisted, son of a bitch,' she thought. "Sydney is fine."
"She always reminded me of you."
"Really?" Her eyes remained poker-straight. "I've always thought she was more like Jack."
"I did ask her not to come after me," he spoke with an almost regretful inflection.
Her eyebrow rose. "And you mistakenly thought she would listen?"
He paused, considering. "I guess I did. For all I've done to her, Irina, I've always hoped that she would be happy. With SD-6 gone, she should have been."
Everything went in slow motion after that, even though she moved with feline-like accuracy and speed. Her front two legs kicked up and out, scoring direct hits on both Sark and the driver. Sloane, realizing what was happening, moved to stop her, but she evaded his hands and reached inside his jacket for the gun that she knew was there.
With it, she lifted it to his head and watched the fear slowly filter into his eyes. "I'll see you in Hell," she muttered, and fired the shot.
Like an auto-woman, Irina scrambled up to the front seat, knocked the driver out of the way and pulled the car to a stop. There was a cell phone resting in Sark's inner pocket and she took it, dialing the only number she knew.
"Hello?"
"Sydney. Call your father. Sloane's dead and Sark." she watched as the man struggled to regain consciousness. For good measure, she lifted her elbow to the side of his head, "Sark is ready to be brought in for questioning."
Against her daughter's shocked protests, she ended the call and opened the glove box in the van, finding two more guns, rope, and handcuffs. "Nice toys, gentlemen." She slapped a pair on Sark's wrists and got out of the car to drag him over a safe distance from the car.
Keeping one eye on the unconscious man and one closed for accuracy, she reached for one of the spare guns she'd put in her waistband. It took one shot to hit the gas tank.
The SWAT team, with Jack more than likely inside, arrived just in time to see the last of Arvin Sloane go up in literal flames.
* * *
"Don't you EVER do that, ever again!" Jack Bristow yelled to the beautiful woman sitting on the hotel bed.
She was currently tending to a wound on her upper arm; when the SWAT team had come in, a jumpy newbie had mistakenly fired at her, it just nicked her and she was paying for it in blood. Long, mahogany colored hair was pulled over to rest on her uninjured shoulder, though a few locks that were too short fell forward, framing her face.
"I understand you are upset with me. But I did it for Sydney's sake. You have to believe me."
He glared at her angrily for a few more moments. She waited him out and eventually, the expression on his face softened to one she couldn't quite put her finger on, but knew he affected it when speaking or thinking of their daughter.
"It wasn't-" he took a deep breath and resumed pacing, "I believe you. I just."
Irina stood up, hair falling to her mid-back, stepping in his path and effectively giving him pause. As of its own accord, her hand rose to touch his face. "You thought I was siding with Sloane."
Jack didn't contest the statement; he didn't have to. She saw and could clearly read the look on his face and something inside her dropped.
"You never told me you were changing the plan."
Irina smiled coolly, wondering why it hurt that he felt betrayed. "If I had let you known what I was up to, then you wouldn't have come after me. Sloane wouldn't have believed me." She turned to face the view of the city, unknowingly giving him a clear view of the bruises she had sustained in her struggle with the former head of SD-6. "As it is, we've recovered the Rambaldi manuscripts, Sark is in CIA custody-" her former cell, to be exact, "-and Sloane is dead. Sydney can leave and get on with her life."
Jack came up behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders, careful of her earlier wound from the tracer. Having calmed down considerably, he asked her, "And us? What goes on from here?"
She turned in his arms, her signature smile dancing on her lips. "I no doubt have to prove my worth to Kendall. Now that Sloane and Sark are taken care of, he may no longer have use for me. Who knows? Maybe. I'll become an agent again."
The words sent a chill through his body, knowing she did not mention things so casually unless she had a very good plan for following through on them. "I think I'd like that."
Irina's smile became full-fledged and she leaned up to kiss him. He ran his hands up and down her arms, ever careful of her wounds, and with some effort, separated them.
"Just so you know." Her eyes reluctantly opened and a trace of impatience could be seen as she waited for him to get to the point. "If you ever pull something like this again. I'll snap your neck." He was deadly serious and she knew it.
Still, she couldn't help but laugh at his fatal promise, knowing that he was fighting as hard as she had been to keep from falling back in love. The difference was, this time, it was for keeps. And she wasn't looking back or letting go.
"I believe you," Irina whispered, smoothing back his hair the same way she had nearly 20 years ago. "We have a full debriefing with Kendall tomorrow."
He knew the moves to this dance and she saw his features soften in answer. "We should probably get some rest."
"Mmm," she agreed, her lips against his.
* * *