Chapter Twelve: Safe and Sound
Michael stood on the Kincaid's balcony, sipping a glass of red wine as he stared out into the ocean. It was an absolutely beautiful evening. Never in a million years would he have expected to spend Christmas on the beach. Back in his days at the Organization, he'd wondered if he would spend every Christmas for the rest of his life in the house Irina had provided for them. Sometimes he'd even wondered if he'd someday be spending Christmas behind bars. He had to say, he didn't mind the view from this balcony.
He felt a pair of arms circle around his waist, and he turned to smile at his wife.
"You okay, baby?" she asked, planting a light kiss on his neck.
"I'm fine, sweetheart," he said, turning back to the ocean. She kept her arms firmly locked around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder.
"What are you thinking about, honey?"
"I don't know," he said, resting his wine glass on the ledge in front of him. "You. The kids. Your mother."
He felt her arms leave his waist; when he turned to face her, she was looking up at him, her pretty face twisted into a mask of horror and disgust. "Why would you be thinking about my mother?"
He shrugged. "I know she spent the entire ten years we were with her Organization manipulating us," he explained, searching for the right words. "But when Emily was born-- she was actually…kind of great, Syd. I was a wreck, worrying about Emily, about you. She helped me see that Jack needed me, that he would need me if--" He let his voice trail off, biting his lower lip at the unpleasant thought.
"If you lost me," Sydney finished softly.
Michael lowered his eyes. "Yes."
Sydney shuddered. "That must have been awful." She moved to his side, gazing out into the ocean. "When I thought I might lose you back in Taipei all those years ago, I--" she shook her head, eyes filling with tears. "And you and I weren't even, you know, together then. We didn't have Jack, or Emily. But I loved you, Michael." She turned toward him, a sad smile spreading across her lips. "I might not have known it yet, but I loved you."
"I loved you, too, Syd," he said quietly. "So much. I don't know when, exactly, I fell for you, but--" he let his voice trail off, shaking his head.
She moved toward him, placing a hand on his shoulder. When he looked into her eyes, he saw not the warm, loving eyes of the woman he'd been married to for almost two decades. He saw the look of a young girl, unsure of how to tell her crush how she felt about him. "I don't think I ever told you how much it meant to me," she said shyly. "Your always being there for me, when we were at the CIA."
He pulled her to him, planting a kiss on her forehead. "I love you, Syd," he whispered. "So much."
"I love you, Michael," she responded.
They stood there in silence for a moment, his arms surrounding her, before she spoke again. "It's weird that you mentioned my mother," she murmured against his chest. "Because I spoke to my father today."
This didn't surprise Michael. Sydney and her father were far from close-- he never came to visit, had never been formally introduced to their children. But he called a couple of times a year to check up on them-- though Michael suspected the CIA had them under some sort of surveillance-- and Sydney and Michael were required to check in with him every time they wanted to leave the island.
"Is he doing okay?" Michael knew that Jack was pretty much retired from the CIA, excluding anything to do with them. Michael often wondered how the man spent his days.
"It's hard to say," Sydney admitted. "He doesn't sound good, doesn't sound-- healthy. I even suggested that maybe I should visit him, but of course he hated the idea."
"Of course." If Jack wasn't as strong as he had once been, he would have hated for Sydney to see him like that.
"I told him you and I were going to Jamaica," Sydney said. "In February, right?"
"Yeah."
Sydney looked up at him, brow knitted in concern. "You don't sound so excited."
Michael sighed, pulling away from her and running a hand back through his graying hair. "I'm just worried about leaving Emily."
"Michael--"
"I know we won't leave her alone, that she'll probably stay with friends, or whatever," Michael said hastily. "And I'm not just worried about Keith. Just thinking about your mother made me realize-- she's still out there, you know?"
Sydney looked away. "I know," she said with a frown. "I try to forget."
Michael hated the sadness on her face. Hated that he'd been the one to put it thee. "Hey," he said, lifting her chin. "I'm sorry I said anything. We don't have to worry about it right now."
Sydney bit her lip, then finally looked up at him with a smile. "You're right," she said. "Right now, Jack and Emily are probably home safe and sound."