A/N: We know so little about Irina, and I didn't want to make this into a cheesy clip show-type dream. Sorry to all you Sarkneys out there, but the sibling angle just worked too well for this. I figure that even if they aren't related, Irina must think of them both as her children, biological or not. However, if it sucks, feel free to flame me; it's the only way I'll learn...
"I wasn't me when we met
You haven't lost my respect
I'm here to serve and protect
What shade of insanity
Keeps leading you back to me."
Robbie Williams - "Monsoon"
The three boarded the plane in silence, each off in his or her own world. Sloane's thoughts, of course, centred around how exactly he was going to make Sydney and Jack pay for their betrayal that cost Emily her life. Sark's mind was more rational, furiously calculating the next step the plan should go in order to keep the advantage to himself. Irina's mind, however, was absolutely still. Whether it was the anesthetic Sark had given her when he took the bullet out of her shoulder or the numbness that naturally accompanied grief, she didn't know. All that mattered was that for the first time since she had formed her syndicate, her mind had stopped. No thoughts, no planning, just a deep need for sleep.
She sank gratefully into one of the couches on the plane and lay down. The leather was hard and did not offer any promises of being good for her spine, but she didn't care. All that mattered was that she was going to get some much-needed rest. She closed her eyes and was dimly aware of Sark taking a seat in another corner of the plane's small cabin. The rhythmic clicking of the laptop keys was the only sound that accompanied Irina as she slipped into unconsciousness.
***************************************
The sunlight streamed peacefully down on the Bristows as they enjoyed lunch in the grove.
"We should come here more often." Irina remarked, taking a bite of a ham and cheese sandwich. "Mmmm. Sydney, this is wonderful. Where did you learn to be such a good cook?"
Sydney beamed at her mother. "I would hardly consider a sandwich cooking." she replied, swatting Sark's invading fork away from her chocolate cake. "But nonetheless, you're the one who taught me." Sark wouldn't give up, so Sydney knocked him hard across the head.
Jack laughed. "Now children, play nicely." he admonished. "There'll be no more fighting in this family." He leaned over and kissed Irina on the cheek. "No, there's been enough of that already."
Sydney made a face. "Come on, Dad." she said. "Do you have to do that while I'm eating?"
Jack ignored her request, opting instead to kiss his wife passionately on the lips. "Hey," Irina said huskily, "Last time you did that I ended up with a tracker in my chest."
Jack chuckled softly. "You're the one who didn't notice." he teased, nuzzling her neck. Irina closed her eyes, drinking in the happiness she felt surrounded by her family.
Sark piped up next. "Come now, Irina," he said, ripping off a piece of his sandwich and throwing it at the two elder Bristows. "I'm going to be scarred for life if you two keep carrying on like the twentysomethings you aren't."
"Oh that is it, boy!" Irina said, breaking off from Jack's embrace. "I'm going to put you over my knee and give you a damn good thrashing!" Sark leapt up and began running around the picnic spot as Irina chased him and Jack and Sydney fell down laughing. Irina caught him and, without breaking a sweat, picked him up, and carried him over her shoulder back to the checkered picnic blanket.
"Here!" she cried, setting Sark down across her legs. "Everybody gets a turn!" Jack and Sydney continued their hysterics as they each gave Sark a sound THWACK! to the bottom.
Finally, the three let up their assault and Sark hastily covered his arse as he sat back down. "Alright," he said, trying to contain his own laughter. "Next time, Sydney gets it."
"Oh, I don't think so, brother dear." Sydney replied. "First off, you'd have to catch me!" she cried as she took off running. Sark chased after her, but Sydney ducked into the dense forest. Without hesitation, Sark ran after her, yelling about how she would be in so much trouble when he found her.
Irina sat back in Jack's lap. "Do you think they'll be safe?"
"No, they won't be." came a raspy voice. Suddenly, Arvin was standing in front of the picnic area. Irina jumped up, body tense and at the ready to defend her family. "Leave this place." she snarled. "Jack, get everything together and find Sydney and Andrew." she called over her shoulder.
"Oh, I don't think so." came a familiar voice. Irina whipped around to find Jack gone, replaced by her former supervisor and sometimes lover, Gerard Cuvee. "What? Not happy to see old friends?" he said, his tone dangerously light. He and Sloane simultaneously stepped forward. Irina felt panic ripple through her body. 'Okay, as long as they're both unarmed, I should be able to take them' she thought to herself as she clenched her fists and bent slightly at the knees.
"Oooh! I know you're a feisty one, lover" crooned Cuvee. "But I guess that trait did not make it to the second generation."
"What are you talking about?" queried Irina, hoping that none of the terror she felt was showing in her voice.
"Tsk tsk." chided Sloane. "Time to show you how little your precious training paid off."
Suddenly, Sark came out of the woods, carrying a limp body. His face was a mask of hatred and his steely gaze was fixed directly on Irina.
"No." she whispered as he drew closer, but she already knew whom Sark was carrying. Finally, he reached Irina's feet and let the body roll out of his arms and land with a dull thud on the ground. "You swore you were going to protect us." Sark growled.
Irina collapsed beside Sydney's wilted form. With a tender hand, she smoothed away an errant strand that had fallen across her daughter's beautiful face. Her skin was pale and slightly blue but her expression, despite the many tiny cuts, was peaceful. Irina felt a single tear escape down her cheek and land on Sydney's, a grotesque parody of shared pain.
Finally, Irina summoned the courage to look up at the men surrounding her. Sark, with his fiery hatred; Cuvee, with his look of smug satisfaction; and Sloane, with his coolly satisfied look of revenge fulfilled.
"Why?" she choked out. Cuvee sneered. "Did you really think that you could get away with all you've done? Did you think there wouldn't be a price?" he asked. "Surely you knew this day would come" interjected Sark. "You could have prevented all this, of course."
"She was so small when she was born, wasn't she, Irina?" finished Sloane. Tears were now freely streaming down Irina's cheeks. "I'm sorry!" she cried, burying her head in Sydney's still chest. "I'm so sorry!"
Suddenly, Jack yanked her up by the crook of her arm. Sark, Sloane, and Cuvee were gone and it was just the two of them standing over Sydney's grave. "Don't be sorry," he ground out, his voice dripping with venom. "Be dead." Jack raised his handgun and fired.
*******************************
Irina awoke with a start. Willing her tired eyes to focus, she quickly scanned her surroundings and was relieved to find herself back on the plane.
She got up slowly, and made her way over to where Sark was sitting. At first, the limp angle of his head stirred a strong panic in Irina but it disappeared as she saw the steady rise and fall of his chest. 'Sleeping on the job.' she mused tenderly. She came up along side the chair and crouched down. A tiny rivulet of drool had formed at the corner of his mouth and Irina wiped it away affectionately with her index finger. She chuckled low, but the sound was enough to wake Sark. "What?" he asked groggily. Irina smiled. "Nothing, dear." she said quietly. She patted his shoulder as she rose and return to her seat.
"It's been awhile since I've seen you smile like that." he called over his shoulder. "You should do it more often."
"I will," she murmured to herself. "Just as soon as I get everything in order."
