"What the hell is wrong with you Agent Vaughn?" If there was anyone in the world who recognized that tone of voice, it was Sydney. Her father, more than anyone, could convey a quiet, deadly anger with the softest of tones. And right now, his entire concentration was focused on Vaughn, with a voice modulated ominously below a whisper. It had been almost two hours since they'd landed in LA, Sark dragged into custody and Sydney left alone with her father and Vaughn. All the while, Jack had continued to grill Vaughn.
Helpless, Vaughn shrinked under the tirade, not even daring to look to Sydney for help. Not that she would have given him any. It was too funny to watch him berated like a naughty two year old.
"You left my daughter alone, with a known criminal, who, might I remind you, has shot and killed dozens of CIA agents? What exactly were you hoping to accomplish?" The questions, though rhetorical to some extent, were made even more threatening by the fact that Jack Bristow fully expected an answer to each. He was, to say the least, not happy.
"He was unarmed."
"Unarmed? Unarmed?" Vaughn's attempt at defending himself served only to provoke Jack more. It was a little bit like watching a tiger toy with an injured gazelle. "And when exactly did you learn this? Did you happen to strip-search the terrorist between pistol-whippings or have you all of a sudden become psychic in the past twenty four hours? The agents who brought Mr. Sark into custody, in fact found two knives on his person."
Vaughn's head snapped up, looking with genuine worry and fear at Sydney. The fact that she was present attested to her survival, but Vaughn was not reassured in the least. She chose not to meet his eyes.
"It was by miracle alone that he did not attack Sydney, and that is the only reason you stand before me rather than in a cell neighboring Mr. Sark. Do me a favor, on any further missions when you decide to loose all rationality, give me a call so that I may have the pleasure of turning you over to Kendall myself." With one last dark glare, Jack nodded to Sydney and the two left Vaughn alone in the empty operations room.

"So wait, you have that little blond bitch in custody?" Will paused in shaking the can of whipped cream to allow an expression of incredulity to take over his face. It was comforting, moments like these that lightened her day, her and Will living together and making ice cream Sundays. It reminded her that there were at least a few people in the world who would take her back, no questions asked, and live the life she'd left behind. He, above all others, even her father, accepted her without question. He treated her not like the Sydney of yesterday, or the Sydney of now, and especially not like an unwanted phantom. No, he just treated her like his Sydney.
"Yeah, I mean he didn't resist or fight back at all. But this isn't the first time we've had one of those three locked down. They're as slippery as fish." Sydney playfully stole a bite of Will's concoction, but wrinkled her nose when she tasted it. How someone managed to love peach sherbet mixed with butter pecan was beyond her.
"As slippery as fish food?" Will chuckled at his own bad joke. "Here, try this, try this."
"Ugh, Will, that's disgusting. What bothers me is how he was acting. Like he was afraid of something, or someone."
"Are you kidding? He'd better be afraid. You know how many people want to kick his ass? I mean, I think the CIA actually has a waiting list. Besides, that rat bastard has it coming. He's got a beating with my name written all over it."
"You sound just like Vaughn." The words tumbled out before she could stop them. It was the first time she had ventured the V-word with Will. Well. What of it? There was no use tip toeing around the fact forever.
"Huh. I would think Vaughn of all people-" Will stopped, a guilty frown slowly appearing.
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing, Syd."
"No, Will, come on. Vaughn of all people what? Don't start hiding things from me, not now."
"Syd." He spoke haltingly, reaching out and tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear. "I don't want to hide anything from you. Believe me, it's just, I don't think I'm the one who should be telling you all this. I barely know all the facts to begin with and you deserve to hear the whole story."
Well. That made things more complicated. Her little game of speculation, sparked by Vaughn's outburst and Sark's odd behavior, was more serious than she'd previous predicted. Whatever was going on though, only one person could explain it to her, and it was the one person she couldn't deal with. Life was a bitch these days.

Entering the facility which had held her mother for so long brought back memories, both pleasant and not so much. Security was, of course, heightened since Sloane's stay, but the cell remained unchained for the most part. Sydney's fingers played with her mother's earrings, twisting them back and forth. Nervous. Huh. Why was she nervous? Because of Sark? Geez, was what he had contagious or something? "Oh grow up Syd, what are you, some empty headed school girl?"
"Sydney?" Apparently her father had heard her muttering.
"Dad."
"What are you doing here?"
"Kendall said Sark requested you, so I thought I might listen in on whatever he has to say."
"Sydney. Wait. Before you go in there, there's some things you need to know."

The moment of truth. The only thing missing was a drum roll.
"I - I was waiting to tell you. At a better time that is, or when we had more information. But now, with the recent events, your mother - her disappearance."
Her mother? That came out of left field.
"When circumstantial evidence surfaced that Sloane may have been behind your own disappearance. Well, her justice was brutal to say the least. She crumbled his operation from the inside out. But not without much risk to herself. Irina's actions were public, and in betraying Sloane she lost the loyalty of quite a few."
"Dad, I know all this." Sydney felt a sudden impatience. Sark stood on the other side of the wall with quite a bit of information he finally felt like sharing and her father was bent on a trip down memory lane. Her mother's disappearance and likely death was not a welcome topic of discussion at a time like this.

"No Sydney, you don't. Of the people who sided with Sloane - Sark was believed to be one of them. In fact, many people thought Sark was the one who orchestrated Sloane's escape from CIA custody. What you do not know, is that a few months after these events, your mother resurfaced . one last time."
If anything, Sydney was more confused. The sides to the story was varied and everyone's allegiances kept shifting. This game of musical loyalties was beginning to wear thin. At some point, Sydney was just going to have to make name tags with "good" and "evil" labeled on them and start passing them out.
"That day, much of Irina's plan was revealed. It appeared that she and Sark had been working together all along, with one ultimate goal."
"Which was?"
"Finding you."
"Dad, this is all news to me, but I don't understand why you felt the need to come clean with it now of all times." A sudden realization hit her. "Why are you telling me this, and where does Vaughn fit in?"
Not many things made Jack Bristow visibly uncomfortable, but his daughter's ability to see past what he was saying, her sudden insight, gave him cause for alarm. If he didn't know better, he'd assume she knew everything, all along. "Something else happened that day. Sloane had escaped, but with intel leaked to us by Irina and Sark, we were able to converge on his location. Agent Vaughn and I acted outside CIA regulation. In the chaos, Sloane escaped again. But this time, he had your mother."
It didn't take long to see where he was going with it. Sloane may have made the mistake of trusting Irina Derevko once, but he wouldn't have made the same mistake twice. "He executed her."
"We don't know Sydney. We don't know."
"And Sark? Did he go crawling back to Sloane the moment she hit the ground?"
"Again, something we just can't guess at. Some believe he was playing both sides against the middle."
"And what do you believe?"
" I wasn't there, that day. It's something I can't forgive myself for. All that your mother did, did not become clear, but Sydney. For once, her intentions, where centered on you. As for Sark, after Irina and Sloane disappeared, well he faded out of the picture. To tell you the truth, I'd all but forgotten about him. I do know one thing though, now that we have him, I'm not letting him out of my sight."

Sydney lingered outside the holding facility, taking a moment to absorb all that her father had just told her. Oh sure, they'd told her almost immediately after she'd hit the States that her mother had "disappeared." The emphasis Kendall had placed on the words "gone" gave her a sense of finality. But the knowledge that Irina Derevko had faked her death so efficiently once buried a seed of hope inside her heart. Now she wasn't so sure.

Sark began without delay. "I take it this isn't a social call? No? Well. There is a locker at Dulles National Airport, in the international terminal, 102, combination 5-21-18. Inside you will find a key, the key opens the storage space of apartment 14A, address 3868 West Beach Lane."
"And?"
"And what, Jack?" The smirk had returned.
"And what exactly are we expecting to find behind door number one?" Sydney interrupted, appearing past the guards to stand alongside her father. Sark turned pale, but this time dredged up enough control to maintain his composure.
Purposefully addressing Jack again, he answered. "Inside you will find the files Agent Vaughn so desperately sought, the ones containing Sloane's contacts, his hideouts, bank account numbers, and details of his entire operation. Included are disks monitoring his movements over the past six years, and explanation of how he managed to elude you last time he was captured as well as several plans laid out with detailed instructions on bypassing his security. The ultimate goal, I hope you realize, is the permanent detainment of Mr. Sloane."
The emphasis of course, was on the word permanent. He even managed to make prison gear look hot.
For a good five minutes Jack continued to stare at Sark, his expression unchanged. He seemed to be intent on staring into his soul. Sydney however, was bothered by another fact.
"You said these disks contain information on Sloane's past 6 years?" It appeared she was going to find out about her extended absence after all, whether she willed it or not.
Sark paused before answering, his eyes downcast. "Yes."
"Have you seen these files?"
"Yes."
"And-" The words caught in her throat. It was an inquiry with infinite consequences. She herself, felt too conflicted to give voice to the question, but she alone was the one with the right.
"No, Sydney." No, Sydney. No, Sydney what? No, I didn't find any evidence of your very existence in the last two years? No, Sloane had nothing to do with your abduction? No, I'm not going to tell you cause I'm a cocky son of a bitch? She was unsure whether to scream aloud or break down laughing. For the first time, brilliant blue eyes finally met hers. Sydney was surprised to see pain, sadness, but most of all anger, reflected in that glance. If anything, the odd assortment of unfamiliar emotions ranging over the face of someone she'd taken as devoid of such intrigued her.
"You will address my daughter as Agent Bristow. And Sark? I don't buy it."
In a split second, Sark's face clouded and the raw emotion was swept clean. Turning, with an haughtiness resurrected, Sark merely shrugged and lay facedown on his bare cotton cot. It appeared the conversation had been terminated.
"It's a trap. It must be some sort of trap. Sloane found out that we were close and he threw this cocky bastard at us as a diversion. He must have gotten out of Paris through some other route while we were focusing on that train. If only I could figure out how he knew we were close." Jack brushed past Sydney without even seeing her. It was funny how invisible she was at times. Her loved ones had spent so much time and effort grieving Sydney Bristow, willing themselves to forget her to relieve the pain that unconsciously, some had indeed forgotten her.
"Sark." If Sydney hadn't seen the tightening of his back, she would have assumed he was asleep. But she knew better than that, there was no way he was going to let himself fall asleep when she was still so clearly present. "Give me one good reason to believe you."
He spoke without facing her.
"I can't."
"Then why are you doing this? Why betray Sloane?"
"Call it a gesture of good will."
"Good will? Good will from you?" Even Sydney had to snort at the absurdity of the notion.
"No."
"Then?" He was beginning to get frustrating and she was beginning to feel reckless.
"Who understands a mother's love?"