What Time Cannot Erase
By clm and Kayryn
Disclaimer: JJ's. Not ours. Never was, never will be. That's too bad, cos Claire would be an excellent script writer and I've pretty much proved that I'd have gifts to be a great director. :sigh: Rated: G to PG. G I think. Claire? What do you think? Author's notes: Kat: I just wanna thank Claire for throwing herself into this one with me. I've never had so much fun writing a story before. Thank you :hug: I can only hope readers will enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Claire: It has been a wonderful experience working on this story with you Kat. I have loved seeing how you put our ideas into words. Enjoy everyone!
Part One:
With one bag hanging from her shoulder, and the other one in her hand, Sydney approached the house. Finally done with the CIA debriefings, she was allowed to leave, and when her father had invited her to stay with him for the time being she had surprised herself by jumping at the chance.
It would be a good solution, at least until she found a place of her own or another roommate. Her thoughts were interrupted when she saw the front door opening and her father stepping out.
"Daddy!"
Jack Bristow wore a smile on his face as he came down the steps to meet his daughter halfway. As she reached him, Sydney dropped her bags and entered her father's open arms. Pressing herself closer to him, she was comforted by his strength. After a moment Jack pulled back, suggesting they should get inside. Picking up one of her bags, he waited for her to take the other one before they entered the house together.
Once inside, Sydney took in the familiarity of the house with all its things and smells. Everything was exactly the way she remembered them from the last time she'd been there. And that had been quite a few years ago.
"I feel like a little kid again," she said, looking at her father, who was at the bottom of the stairs waiting for her. Though her voice carried an annoyed inflection, her smile betrayed her true feelings.
Jack smiled at her words. He didn't really see a problem with this at all.
As Sydney passed the living room something caught her eye and, dropping her bag again, she entered the room. Jack wondered what she'd seen and, out of curiosity, followed her in. He found her by the couch, staring at a blanket draped over the back of it. Sydney looked up at him and smiled. "You still have this?"
Though the question was rhetorical, Jack nodded. He had changed hardly anything in the house. At first it was for Sydney's sake. For her to retain whatever she could of her mother. And that had held true until three years ago when they had found out that, in reality, Irina never had died. But then life and its unexpected turns had taken over, and Jack barely had time to come home to sleep. Changing furniture had been of a somewhat lesser priority. And lately he had to admit he hadn't even really wanted to.
Watching Sydney fiddle with the blanket, he found himself remembering how it had been his gift to his two special ladies. "You and your mother both loved it. I remember how you would wrap yourselves in it. You'd either read, watch TV or just talk until you usually fell asleep."
Sydney nodded, the same memories going through her mind. Suddenly she grabbed the blanket and started to open it, twisting and turning the large item until she finally found what she was looking for.
"It's still there," she said, speaking more to herself than to her father.
She had been about five years old when she had insisted on having hot chocolate one night. Bringing it over she had inevitably spilled some of her drink on the blanket and, since the material was very absorbent, the stain remained despite her mother's best efforts to clean it.
Jack, now standing next to Sydney, grabbed the corner of the blanket and laughed. "I remember. Irina was not happy about it."
Sydney looked up sharply at the mention of her mother's real name. Somehow the memories she'd just visited and the name of the woman who'd betrayed everything she believed in didn't fit together. And yet it seemed that, to her father, those two people were the one and the same.
Jack became aware of the sudden uneasy silence between them and told her that dinner was ready and waiting, in case she wanted to eat. Though she was not exactly hungry, Sydney was grateful for the distraction and accepted the offer.
As Sydney made her way to her room upstairs, Jack stood frozen in place, thinking back.
Laura came back from the bathroom clearly upset. Looking at Jack she said, "I can't get the stain out. it's stuck."
Before Jack could offer a response she'd turned her attention to their five- year-old. "And no more drinks in the living room. We eat in the kitchen."
With that, Laura turned on her heels and disappeared back into the bathroom, not noticing the way her daughter's lower lip had started to quiver.
Jack, however, did notice. He picked up the girl and assured her that mommy wasn't really that mad, and that there was nothing to worry about.
"Promise?" Sydney asked him.
"Promise. In fact, I'm going to see Mommy right now and make sure she isn't mad, okay?" At Sydney's nodding of her head, he kissed her cheek and set her back down.
"Don't worry. You can go and play now, I'll come and see you in a while."
Jack watched her run off to play before he went in search of his wife. Finding her, predictably, in the bathroom over the sink, he smiled in spite of himself. She was as stubborn as they come.
"Just leave it, Laura."
"No. I... it's such a beautiful blanket, Jack... and..."
"Laura... it's just a stain," Jack tried to reason with her. "It'll still warm just the same way."
Laura paused her vigorous efforts to clean the stain. Jack took this as a good sign and pushed a little further. "She's very upset about it, Laura. Almost burst into tears thinking that you're mad at her."
Hearing this had the effect Jack was looking for, and Laura turned around, looking slightly guilty. "You're right, of course. I'll go talk to her in a moment. It's our fault anyway. I mean. who are the parents here? We should've known better than to let her take that mug out of the kitchen."
Laura sighed again and put the soap away. Jack stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, causing her to lean on him. "It's just life, Laura."
Brought back to the present by the noise Syd was making in the kitchen, Jack shook his head a little. Just life indeed.
Dinner was a quiet affair, neither Jack nor Sydney finding much to talk about besides the occasional comment about the food. Finally Sydney excused herself, claiming she was still exhausted. Jack nodded, saying it was understandable. She was almost out of the room when he stopped her.
"Sydney?"
He waited for her to turn.
"Would you like me to wake you up in the morning?"
It was such a fatherly thing to say that Sydney couldn't help but smile. And though she'd been setting her own alarm for years, the way her father offered to do it made her want to take his offer.
Sydney smiled at him and said, "Sure. Eight?"
"I'll have breakfast ready," Jack stated as he, too, got up and started to collect the dishes.
She retraced her way to him and leaned in closer to kiss him on the cheek, but at the last minute she decided to hug him instead. The embrace lingered on until Sydney confessed she would not be able to remain standing much longer.
With a little gentle ushering, Jack set her on her way upstairs, then turned to clear the table.
Sydney woke up and took a moment to familiarize herself with her surroundings. Then she realized she had been awakened by a sound from somewhere in the house. She looked at the clock on her nightstand and groaned in protest when the read numbers told her it was only 1:37am.
She was about to close her eyes again when she heard another sound. Curiosity getting the best of her, she got up and decided to go and investigate. Still sleepy, she slowly made her way downstairs and, following the low murmur of her father's voice, approached his study.
Getting closer, Sydney noticed the door to the study was slightly ajar. She could now hear her father's voice clearly, but instead of focusing on the words, she noticed the soft, affectionate tone he was using. Sydney wondered who could be on the other end of the phone for her father to be so tender.
Opening the door, Sydney was shocked to see her not only her father but, in his embrace, her mother.
Because she was momentarily rendered speechless, it took Jack, who was facing her, a few moments to be alerted to her presence. Once he saw her, though, he pulled back from Irina a little. But before he could say anything Sydney had found her voice again.
"Mom?"
TBC.
Disclaimer: JJ's. Not ours. Never was, never will be. That's too bad, cos Claire would be an excellent script writer and I've pretty much proved that I'd have gifts to be a great director. :sigh: Rated: G to PG. G I think. Claire? What do you think? Author's notes: Kat: I just wanna thank Claire for throwing herself into this one with me. I've never had so much fun writing a story before. Thank you :hug: I can only hope readers will enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Claire: It has been a wonderful experience working on this story with you Kat. I have loved seeing how you put our ideas into words. Enjoy everyone!
Part One:
With one bag hanging from her shoulder, and the other one in her hand, Sydney approached the house. Finally done with the CIA debriefings, she was allowed to leave, and when her father had invited her to stay with him for the time being she had surprised herself by jumping at the chance.
It would be a good solution, at least until she found a place of her own or another roommate. Her thoughts were interrupted when she saw the front door opening and her father stepping out.
"Daddy!"
Jack Bristow wore a smile on his face as he came down the steps to meet his daughter halfway. As she reached him, Sydney dropped her bags and entered her father's open arms. Pressing herself closer to him, she was comforted by his strength. After a moment Jack pulled back, suggesting they should get inside. Picking up one of her bags, he waited for her to take the other one before they entered the house together.
Once inside, Sydney took in the familiarity of the house with all its things and smells. Everything was exactly the way she remembered them from the last time she'd been there. And that had been quite a few years ago.
"I feel like a little kid again," she said, looking at her father, who was at the bottom of the stairs waiting for her. Though her voice carried an annoyed inflection, her smile betrayed her true feelings.
Jack smiled at her words. He didn't really see a problem with this at all.
As Sydney passed the living room something caught her eye and, dropping her bag again, she entered the room. Jack wondered what she'd seen and, out of curiosity, followed her in. He found her by the couch, staring at a blanket draped over the back of it. Sydney looked up at him and smiled. "You still have this?"
Though the question was rhetorical, Jack nodded. He had changed hardly anything in the house. At first it was for Sydney's sake. For her to retain whatever she could of her mother. And that had held true until three years ago when they had found out that, in reality, Irina never had died. But then life and its unexpected turns had taken over, and Jack barely had time to come home to sleep. Changing furniture had been of a somewhat lesser priority. And lately he had to admit he hadn't even really wanted to.
Watching Sydney fiddle with the blanket, he found himself remembering how it had been his gift to his two special ladies. "You and your mother both loved it. I remember how you would wrap yourselves in it. You'd either read, watch TV or just talk until you usually fell asleep."
Sydney nodded, the same memories going through her mind. Suddenly she grabbed the blanket and started to open it, twisting and turning the large item until she finally found what she was looking for.
"It's still there," she said, speaking more to herself than to her father.
She had been about five years old when she had insisted on having hot chocolate one night. Bringing it over she had inevitably spilled some of her drink on the blanket and, since the material was very absorbent, the stain remained despite her mother's best efforts to clean it.
Jack, now standing next to Sydney, grabbed the corner of the blanket and laughed. "I remember. Irina was not happy about it."
Sydney looked up sharply at the mention of her mother's real name. Somehow the memories she'd just visited and the name of the woman who'd betrayed everything she believed in didn't fit together. And yet it seemed that, to her father, those two people were the one and the same.
Jack became aware of the sudden uneasy silence between them and told her that dinner was ready and waiting, in case she wanted to eat. Though she was not exactly hungry, Sydney was grateful for the distraction and accepted the offer.
As Sydney made her way to her room upstairs, Jack stood frozen in place, thinking back.
Laura came back from the bathroom clearly upset. Looking at Jack she said, "I can't get the stain out. it's stuck."
Before Jack could offer a response she'd turned her attention to their five- year-old. "And no more drinks in the living room. We eat in the kitchen."
With that, Laura turned on her heels and disappeared back into the bathroom, not noticing the way her daughter's lower lip had started to quiver.
Jack, however, did notice. He picked up the girl and assured her that mommy wasn't really that mad, and that there was nothing to worry about.
"Promise?" Sydney asked him.
"Promise. In fact, I'm going to see Mommy right now and make sure she isn't mad, okay?" At Sydney's nodding of her head, he kissed her cheek and set her back down.
"Don't worry. You can go and play now, I'll come and see you in a while."
Jack watched her run off to play before he went in search of his wife. Finding her, predictably, in the bathroom over the sink, he smiled in spite of himself. She was as stubborn as they come.
"Just leave it, Laura."
"No. I... it's such a beautiful blanket, Jack... and..."
"Laura... it's just a stain," Jack tried to reason with her. "It'll still warm just the same way."
Laura paused her vigorous efforts to clean the stain. Jack took this as a good sign and pushed a little further. "She's very upset about it, Laura. Almost burst into tears thinking that you're mad at her."
Hearing this had the effect Jack was looking for, and Laura turned around, looking slightly guilty. "You're right, of course. I'll go talk to her in a moment. It's our fault anyway. I mean. who are the parents here? We should've known better than to let her take that mug out of the kitchen."
Laura sighed again and put the soap away. Jack stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, causing her to lean on him. "It's just life, Laura."
Brought back to the present by the noise Syd was making in the kitchen, Jack shook his head a little. Just life indeed.
Dinner was a quiet affair, neither Jack nor Sydney finding much to talk about besides the occasional comment about the food. Finally Sydney excused herself, claiming she was still exhausted. Jack nodded, saying it was understandable. She was almost out of the room when he stopped her.
"Sydney?"
He waited for her to turn.
"Would you like me to wake you up in the morning?"
It was such a fatherly thing to say that Sydney couldn't help but smile. And though she'd been setting her own alarm for years, the way her father offered to do it made her want to take his offer.
Sydney smiled at him and said, "Sure. Eight?"
"I'll have breakfast ready," Jack stated as he, too, got up and started to collect the dishes.
She retraced her way to him and leaned in closer to kiss him on the cheek, but at the last minute she decided to hug him instead. The embrace lingered on until Sydney confessed she would not be able to remain standing much longer.
With a little gentle ushering, Jack set her on her way upstairs, then turned to clear the table.
Sydney woke up and took a moment to familiarize herself with her surroundings. Then she realized she had been awakened by a sound from somewhere in the house. She looked at the clock on her nightstand and groaned in protest when the read numbers told her it was only 1:37am.
She was about to close her eyes again when she heard another sound. Curiosity getting the best of her, she got up and decided to go and investigate. Still sleepy, she slowly made her way downstairs and, following the low murmur of her father's voice, approached his study.
Getting closer, Sydney noticed the door to the study was slightly ajar. She could now hear her father's voice clearly, but instead of focusing on the words, she noticed the soft, affectionate tone he was using. Sydney wondered who could be on the other end of the phone for her father to be so tender.
Opening the door, Sydney was shocked to see her not only her father but, in his embrace, her mother.
Because she was momentarily rendered speechless, it took Jack, who was facing her, a few moments to be alerted to her presence. Once he saw her, though, he pulled back from Irina a little. But before he could say anything Sydney had found her voice again.
"Mom?"
TBC.