Author's Notes: It seems like forever since I've updated this story, or any of my stories for that matter. So, my greatest apologies! Thank you for the reviews from the last chapter! Hope you all enjoy this chapter, it's super long to make up for my slackerness!

Disclaimer: I do not and never will own the character of Alias, so don't think I do!







**SYDNEY POV**



We both stood in each other's arms for a minute, but the clearing of a throat made us aware that we weren't the only ones left in the room. We both turned to see whom it was, and was made aware of a gun pointing right at our heads.



"You know, Mr. Bristow, if you really wanted to talk, guns wouldn't be necessary," Andrew tells our new visitor.

"I thought my way was more effective," my father replies.

"More effective?" I repeat in laughter.

"It seemed earlier you weren't as willing to cooperate," Jack adds.

"In your eyes, I suppose," I mutter.

The swing door opens from behind us and my father swings his gun at the person who entered.

"Mommy, mommy," Delia says as she attaches to my leg.

I carefully kneel down to her, trying to avoid her from seeing the gun in my father's hands.

"Yes honey?" I reply.

"I heard another man here, who is it?" she asks me in her childish voice.

"It's just an old friend of Mommy and Daddy's, now, how about you run upstairs and get ready for bed?" I tell her.

"Okay," she says and gives me a kiss on the cheek before she runs out of the room.

There is a small silence that fills the air before any of us try to speak again. My father still, with his gun trained on us, begins the conversation, once again.

"She's the spitting image of both of you," he says.

"Why thank you," I reply to him, obviously getting on his nerves.

"What do you want with us?" Andrew bluntly asks him.

"Ah, Mr. Sark bringing us back to my point," my father states.

"Yes," I say angrily.

"It's simple as this, the CIA wants you in for questioning, both of you," he adds at the end.

"Oh really?" I question.

"Yes, and if you decide not to comply, I think I can find a few ways to make you both comply quickly," he informs us.

Andrew looks over at me and gives me his nod of defeat, and I assume we've lost.

"All right, but Delia comes with us," I tell him.

"Understandable," he agrees. "I can have Vaughn watch him."

Andrew has a look of disgust rise on his face at the last comment and all I can do is give him a smile of love.

"We have to grab our daughter," Andrew tells my father.

"I'll be waiting," he states.





We take hands and walk into the family room and head upstairs to Delia's room. We both pause before entering, knowing that this was not how it was supposed to be. We did the CIA a favor, and still, they're making our lives miserable again. We walked inside the room cautiously and saw her playing with a few dolls.

"Delia, honey, we have to go somewhere, okay?" Andrew tells her.

"Where?" she asks us with her bright eyes.

"A special place. Mommy and Daddy have to talk with some people and you're going to come with us, okay?" I say as I kneel down to her height.

"Alright," she says and Andrew grabs her and carries her down the stairs.

My father says nothing except to usher us out to the van that was parked in front of the house. Neither of us says a word, except to the few words to Delia. I don't know if the CIA could even hold us for anything, plus, Andrew has done them tons of favors I don't know how they could.

The ride was uneventful and the few CIA agents in the car gave us looks I could never of imagined receiving before. Had we done something unintentionally? Had Irina done something? Knowing that woman, she probably deceived them into believing some crazy tale.

We arrived at the CIA and we were both led to separate rooms. Delia was unbearable to separate with, but they guaranteed us they would take the best care of her. Probably interrogate her as well.

I sat down in my room and it was one of the smaller rooms. I could only ponder who was going to question me. When the door opens, I'm greeted by the one person I wouldn't want to interrogate me, Vaughn.

"Hello Sydney," he says and sits down with a folder in hand.

"Hi," I only can reply to him.

"How about we get things started?" he asks, very professionally.

"Doesn't look like I have an option," I tell him.

"Where have you been living for the past 4 years?" he stars with.

"Australia," I say.

"Is that where you were planning on returning to?" he follows up.

"No," I answer.

"Where then?" he ponders.

"I don't know," I lie. He taught me to lie, so who knows if he knew I was bluffing.

"Interesting," he says, scribbling on his notepad.

"How about you tell me everything you know about Sark's operations?" he bluntly asks.

"How about I let him tell you what he wants you to know," I tell him.

"I think for your best interests, you should tell me what I want to know," Vaughn forces upon me.

"What could I have possibly done wrong to make the CIA turn against me?" I say, muttering to myself and placing my head in my hands.

"You fell in love," Vaughn quietly says under his breath.

"What?" I say, perking up to greet his glaze.

"I said, you fell in love," he says, repeating the unintentional comment.

"I did," I tell him and a smile grows across my face.

"Was it worth it?" he asks, obviously this was becoming a conversation between us as friends again.

"Most of it. The worst was not being able to see you all," I tell him honestly.

"You father. he was distraught for weeks, months, even a year after you left. I.." Vaughn says, stopping his comments.

"What is it?" I ask him.

"I.." He begins. "Had lost you as soon as I knew Sark had you. Once you left for good, I knew you had slipped right between my fingers."

He looks down, in defeat, and all our emotions are lingering in the air. I always thought there was something between Vaughn and I, but with everything that happened, I never got to see what could have been. I think I wrecked him for a while, but he seems stronger, but my presence has made him weak again.

"I'm sorry about leaving," I tell him. "But I'm not sorry about falling in love with Andrew."

He responds to the first comment with a small smile upon his face, but the second comment causes a frown to turn his grin away. He seems to snap back into agent mode and shifts some papers around.

"Well, anyway, how about you tell me about Delia?" he asks.

"Her birthday is May 14th, three years ago, she's an angel, what else do you need to know?" I ask in reply.

"Is she going to become part of your messed up family?" he asks harshly.

I become enraged at his comment, so I answer in rage, "Well, to start, she's already part of the family, and Andrew and I are doing everything and anything to keep her away from the life we both led so horribly for such a long time."

"Like that will do any good," I hear come from under his breath.

"I'm sick of your comments, you know that? So unless you get some real questions or a brain, I'd appreciate being questioned by someone else," I tell him angrily.

He stands up, shuffles his papers into a pile and stands up and heads to the door. He looks back for a second, but quickly exits the room.

I think my returning back here made things worse than they already were. I could only imagine what Andrew was going through right now.





**SARK POV**





The CIA fools decided it would be amusing to make me wait to be questioned. So, I sat alone in the room for a long period of time before anyone entered. I got my cover stories straight, certain pieces of false information straight in my mind so I wouldn't stumble over them. I was ready when I heard the crack of a door.

"Mr. Sark," his goody-boy CIA Agent voice says in the room.

"Mr. Vaughn, interesting that I get to speak with you," I reply.

"Should I feel honored?" he asks me.

I give him my trademark glare and mutter to him, "I suppose."

"Let's get down to business," he informs me.

"Let's," I add with a small grin.

"You know, we haven't heard much from you in the business since you've left, which makes me ask you, are you still in this business?" he asks.

"Sydney and I decided to try to avoid any connections to our past as possible. I kept my promise to her because I couldn't see her hurt," I start explaining, making sure to try to make Mr. Vaughn as jealous as possible. "I still kept my contacts and locations in tact for my family's personal safety, as shown with Irina's visiting us."

"Do you actually love her? Or are you using her?" he asks me.

"How dare you actually ask me such a question," I start with him. "I love Sydney and Delia with all my heart. Some claim that I am not capable of love, my Sydney wormed her way right into my heart."

I saw the look of sadness reach across his face and it was obvious that I was winning. Pretty boy was not about to try to get my Sydney into his heart. If I could hurt him as much as possible, I could keep him away from her.

"Alright, that's very well, now, here's a piece of paper," he starts, laying a piece in front of me on the table, "I want a list of your contacts."

"Perhaps not," I tell him.

"You realize I'm the one with the upper hand here? I can keep you hostage for as long as I want," he informs me.

"It appears that way. Do you not remember me doing you CIA people quite the many favors?" I ask him.

He ponders my statement a second before responding, "Define 'favors'."

"Well, I destroyed SD-6 to start, discontinued the existence of my organization, returned an escaped prisoner of yours back to your custody, what else?" I start.

"We are very aware of your contributions, Mr. Sark, but I would start writing if I were you," he stresses.

"Or what? You'll lock me up and let Sydney go so that she'll be hurt for life? So maybe you can try to win her back?" I say, stressing the last point.

He looks stunned at my accusation, but begins, "I thought you wouldn't want to hurt Sydney, so I would do this for her sake."

I look at him for a second, then pick up the pen, "I will only provide you with some of my contacts for now."

He doesn't respond to my comment, only watches me as I scribble the names of a few of my older contacts that I no longer associate with. That will give them a run for their money.







As soon as I finish, they let me out of the room and lead me into another one, where I see Sydney and Delia sitting on a bench. I go over to them and give Sydney an awkward kiss and Delia a kiss on her head.

"How are my two angels?" I ask them.

"Fine," Sydney says obviously not well. She stands up and leaves Delia on the bench and we head over to the opposite corner of the room.

"What happened?" I asked her as soon as we were alone.

"Vaughn interrogated me," she tells me.

"Same here," I tell her.

"We got in a rather large fight," she explains.

"What happened?" I ask her, placing a hand on her back to gently rub her back.

"We had 'the inevitable talk' and it didn't go very well," she says.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, darling, I got him pretty good," I tell her.

I see a small smile and then it turn into a frown, "What happened?"

"He wanted to know if I actually loved you and I told him off, explaining to him that you are the only person I've ever loved, well, and then Delia as well," I tell her.

She is amused and happy at the statement and pulls me up into a hug, in which I plant a few kisses on her neck. It seems we are interrupted when our favorite person walks in.

"The director would like to speak to you both," Pretty CIA boy tells us.

"Alright," I reply for both of us and we start heading out the door. Who knows what was in store for us now.







~I'd love to hear what you thought! Reviews are awesome! Thanks for reading~ Masquerade