Chapter Seven: Christmas Eve

"How's it going?" Michael asked, joining his wife in the restaurant's kitchen.

"I sent Jason home," Sydney responded, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear. "Did you lock the front door?"

Michael nodded. "The wait staff's gone home."

"Good," Sydney said, leaning against the counter with a sigh. "Ready to get out of here?"

Michael shrugged. "Want to open a bottle of wine?"

Sydney raised her eyebrows in surprise. "It's like two in the afternoon, Michael."

"It's Christmas Eve," he said, moving toward her and wrapping his arms around her waist. "I thought we could celebrate a little. Alone."

"Mmm," she said, welcoming his kiss. "You just don't want to go home and have it out with Emily."

"Guilty,' he admitted.

She kissed him again, wrapping her arms around her neck. "Okay," she agreed. "We can stick around here for awhile."

Once Michael had retrieved the wine and glasses, they settled themselves at a table in the restaurant, she on his lap. She gazed into his beautiful green eyes, wondering for the millionth time how she'd gotten so lucky. "Are you happy, Michael?" she whispered, pressing her lips to his forehead.

"Of course, Sydney," he said, but his smile didn't reach his eyes.

She lovingly brushed his hair back from his forehead, knowing precisely what was bothering him. "You don't have to be so worried about Emily, baby."

"I know," he sighed. "I worried about you for so long, sweetie, out on missions--"

"You didn't have to do that, either," she interrupted, her hands continuing to work their way through his hair. He was so beautiful, the most beautiful man she'd ever seen, and in all honesty, she found his protective attitude toward the women in his life absolutely adorable.

"I know," he said again. "But I did, anyway."

"I love you, Michael," she said seriously, gently kissing the tip of his nose. "So much."

"I love you, too, sweetheart," he responded, and she kissed him, a deep, passionate kiss that shook her to her very core. She hoped it had the same effect on him; by the look on his face when they parted, it did.

"Let's go home, Michael," she said with a smile.

"Not just yet," he said huskily, nibbling at her earlobe.

She started to protest. But then his lips moved down to her neck, and she knew they weren't going anywhere for awhile.

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Irina Derevko sat in a car across from the restaurant, staring blithely down at her red-polished nails. All of the wait staff had left something like half an hour ago; she wondered when Sydney and Michael would make their appearance. Not that she had any intention of approaching them; no, she was content to wait, for now. She was simply curious. Curious to see if, when Sydney and Michael returned home, Jack would tell them about Grandma's little note. Curious to see how he would behave around his parents if he didn't.

When another fifteen minutes passed, though, it became clear that Michael and Sydney were going to take their time heading home. Probably they were relaxing with a bottle of wine. Probably they'd make love on the couch in the restaurant's cramped little office or on one of the tables in the dining room. Irina found it admirable that her daughter had been madly in love with the same man for more than twenty years. She would have even been happy for Sydney. If she hadn't spent the last decade rebuilding everything the little bitch had destroyed.

"Oh, Sydney," she murmured, gazing across the road to the quiet little restaurant. "We were on the way to building one of the most powerful empires in the world, and it all would have been yours. Yours and your gorgeous husband's."

She liked to tell herself that Jack Bristow must have really put the pressure on for Sydney to accept the deal he'd offered. That she really hadn't destroyed all she'd helped build just so she could spend the next decade drinking margaritas on the beach with her little boy toy. To be honest, Irina wasn't completely sure what Sydney's motivation had been, and she certainly wasn't going to give her the chance to explain herself.

"You never should have made an enemy of me, Sydney," she whispered. And she pulled the car out onto the road towards her next destination.