Jack sat motionless.  Irina felt a weight press down on her chest.  The air in the room was still and heavy. Irina realized that her teasing request had instead become a gauntlet between them. Her hand groped for his in an effort to reconnect. 

"Jack?"  She curled her fingers tightly over his.  "If you don't want to read them, I won't force you.  But there is one thing I need to know."  She swallowed and took a deep breath.  "Why don't you want to read them?"

He looked at her, eyes empty. 

"Jack, please, I need to know what's wrong.  You need to help me understand."

He squeezed her hand and attempted a smile.  "Irina, since you've come back into my life, everything I thought knew, everything I believed was true for the past twenty years has been turned upside down."

He shifted back against the couch, drawing her into the circle of his arms.  His breath was light and warm on her neck.  "The last time I felt this way was when I lost you.  Ten years of memories…" he swallowed.  "Every memory, everything I thought we had together..."

"Jack, what we had together was true." 

"Those first six months, locked away, alone with my memories, they were the hardest. I didn't believe them at first. They were lying. You couldn't be a spy.  I didn't want to believe them.  There were no secrets between us.  And then…I knew the truth.  Everything I ever felt, every moment we ever shared was touched by that lie."

Mutely, she turned to him, soft tears streaking her cheeks. 

"I wanted to believe you loved me and then, cold reality would sink in."

"Jack." She touched his lips, her finger lightly caressing.

"I know, honey. I know." His arms tightened around her. "You were in an impossible situation.  Choices aren't always black and white and love sometimes hurts." He kissed her gently, then, a soft caress of his lips against hers. "I don't want to read your diaries because I don't want to feel that kind of pain.  Not tonight."

"You will read them, though?" She saw his hesitation. "The diaries hold the truth, Jack.  Our truth."

He nodded. "Tomorrow. Now, let's go to bed.  My bed."

……………………………………………….

Hello little book. You guessed it. Jack is away again.  He left this morning and already the bed feels too cold beside me. He told me his mission wasn't dangerous, but I knew he was lying.  I can hear it in his voice.  He won't say where he is going, and finding out is too dangerous.  Dangerous for him, for us.

My students hate it when he goes away, too.  When I handed out homework assignments, Jenny Marest asked when my husband was coming home.  I was so shocked, I asked her how she knew.  The whole class laughed.  Then she pointed at the homework assignment.  I suppose it was a little much to ask them to read [b]War and Peace[/b] AND [b]My Antonia[/b] over the weekend. 

Tonight's shirt?  Well, I'm wearing the black one I gave him for his birthday. It's one of his favorites. I love him in black. He's too sexy for words. And he's so unaware of it.

…………….

I'm so lonely, little book.  Jack has been away for two months.  No phone calls, no mail. I hate the CIA.  The smell of him is beginning to fade from his pillow.  I have grown quite pathetic; I'll have you know. Last night, I poured some of his cologne on a washcloth and slept with it next to my pillow.  I had dinner with Jack's parents. Jack's mom is anxious about him, too. I could tell she was worried because she only mentioned grandchildren once. 

……………..

Jack surprised me Friday.  Somehow, he convinced the Grand Poobahs to give him a weekend pass.  We spent almost every minute in bed.  Mostly we were making love, but sometimes, we just held each other close.  It was all I could do to let him go away again.  His pillow smells like him again.  Five more weeks.  Eight hundred and forty hours. 

That Jenny Marest is very perceptive.  This morning, she asked after Jack.  When I asked her how she knew he'd been home, she said I looked happy.  Well, I am happy.  I will always treasure last weekend. 

………………

I'm pregnant. Yes, I am sure.  Six tests in all sure. You will forgive me, my little friend, for the unsteadiness of my hand.  I don't know anything about being a mother. Babies are so fragile. Jack will make a good father. He's so gentle and patient with the neighborhood children.  Jerry was over just the other day telling me how much he missed Jack helping him out with the Little League team.  

Jack will be home in a couple days.  I will KILL the next person who assigns Jack to another of these long-term missions. 

"Jack? Are you planning on getting dressed or have you decided to show Sydney another side of you?"  Irina moved behind the recliner and gently massaged Jack's shoulders.  "Not that I'm complaining about the view, but I think Sydney has had enough shocks for now."

Jack moaned softly as her hands worked the muscles of his back.  "And if you keep that up, she'll need psychiatric treatment for life." He placed his hand on hers, as she ran her fingers over his chest. "How much time do we have before she gets here?"

Irina reluctantly drew her hands away.  "Not enough time for that, sweetheart," she told him regretfully.  "She'll be here any minute…Jack, don't look at me like that!"

"I love our daughter, but…"

"Jack!  Don't you even think such a thing.  You get to see her all the time.  My time with her is almost as precious as my time with you."

He nodded.  "I better take your diaries upstairs."

……………………………………

Irina hummed happily while she worked on the final touches of their first family meal in over twenty years.  The vegetables were gently steaming on the stovetop.  The temperature gauge showed the pork roast was nearing the appropriate doneness. She stretched her shoulders back to ease some of the tension. 

She had stressed over the meal for most of the day, first when deciding what she would prepare and then wondering if Sydney would like her selection.  The pork roast had been Jack's selection. 

"It will be fine, honey." Jack reassured her. "You can make pork roast in your sleep."

She swatted the pillow at him. "Jack Bristow, that is not very nice. And that was your fault, anyway."

"My fault?  All I did was tell you how much I loved it.  I wasn't expecting you to have it for dinner every three days."

"It was not every three days.  Leftovers do not count."

"Hmpf." He squeezed her hand.  "Don't worry, sweetheart.  Sydney loves you.  She's just a little emotional, sometimes."

"I wonder where she got that from?" She snuggled closer, her free hand resting lightly on her husbands' chest.

"Are you implying that I'm emotional?  I'll have you know…"

She moved her hand to his lips. "You might have others convinced that your heart is encased in ice, my darling husband, but I know better."  She rubbed his chest lightly.  "You feel things very deeply. You never do things halfway.  It's one of the things that I love about you."  She kissed him lightly on the lips.  "You're one of the most passionate people I know."

"Have you known many other passionate…people?"

Her head lifted at that. The question had been light, almost teasing, but she sensed there was another question layered beneath.  "Are you asking me if there have been other men in my life?" She felt him tense.  "Thirty years ago, I gave my heart to a tall man with a quirky smile. When I left, a part of me died.  I was certain I'd never see you again.  I didn't want to see you again."  She closed her eyes in an effort to shut out the remembered pain and loneliness.  "I've had sex with other men, Jack, but you are the only man I've every made love with."

Jack shifted away from her and Irina felt a moments panic.  "Why?"

She hugged her arms into herself. "Jack, you know as well as I do that in this business sex is a tool." 

"Thanks for the reminder," Jack said, dryly.

"I wasn't talking about us." She reached for him, anxious to have him understand.  "Yes, the KGB wanted me to use sex to steal secrets from you, but we never had sex, sweetheart."

"I have some really strange memories from our marriage, then."

Irina gave him a light slap.  "You know what I mean, Jack.  We made love, right from our first time together."

"For a minute I thought I'd have to do a lot of explaining to Sydney."  He rolled to her. "That's not the answer to my question, though." She looked at him, her brows knitted in puzzlement. "I was asking why you didn't want to see me again?" 

His face was calm and emotionless, his voice, however, betrayed the hurt her words had caused. She hesitated before answering, wanting to choose her words carefully.  "I didn't want to see you again, because I couldn't bear to see the hate I knew would be in your eyes. All the years we were apart, I carried a picture of you in my head. I would close my eyes and see you standing in front of me.  You would turn your head and look at me, and then your eyes would shift in that subtle way of yours that always told me you wanted me.  I could almost feel your breath on my face as you leaned forward to kiss me.  My heart would race in anticipation of your touch.  And then the vision would change and…" Her voice cracked at the memory.

"I love your pork roast." The non sequitur startled her. At her bewildered gaze, he added, "The years in-between, we've both done a lot of … questionable acts.  Right now, all I'm hoping for is pork roast three times a week."

She stared at him, fully taking in the meaning behind his words. "I would love to make pork roast every day of the week for you, but you know that isn't possible."

"Would you?  Would you be willing to go back to simply being 'Mrs. Jack Bristow'?.  No," he stalled her. "Think about it before you answer."

She did as he asked.  Finally, she shook her head no.  "Not 'Mrs. Jack Bristow'. I can't go back and be 'Laura' again.  Too much water has passed under the bridge." Jack nodded sadly.  "But, I could be 'Irina' Bristow."

He looked into her eyes hope re-igniting within his heart. 

"I loved being a teacher." She shook her head and smiled wistfully at him.  "It's a pipe dream, Jack, but a very pleasant one."

"You wouldn't miss the excitement of being a hunted terrorist whose very name strikes fear into the hearts of mere mortals?"

"You mean I'd have to give that up, too?" she joked.

"So … is that a yes or a no?"

"I want to be with you, but I still need to be me. I am who I am." She saw in his eyes that he still didn't understand.  "I don't need to be the head of an international syndicate to be fulfilled.  I love being your wife.  The fringe benefits are… um… enormous…" She let her hand slide down to his groin. "But I don't want that to be all there is to who I am."  She stroked him lightly with the tips of her fingers. "Don't look so guilty.  You never did that. Another reason why I love you. There were other people who did. Neighbors, your co-workers, even the dean at the college."

"So, if by some miracle you were pardoned, you would be willing to stay here with me, become a teacher, and make me pork roast three times a week?" He kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"Pork roast once a week," she amended.  "Otherwise, you'll be tired of it before the month was out."

"I don't think I could ever tire of your pork roast." He gave her a gentle kiss, his lips soft and tender against hers. He slipped his arms around her, warm hands pulling her close.

The slam of the front door startled her.  "Mom, Dad.  I'm home."

"In the kitchen, honey," Irina called to her daughter.

"Where's Dad?" Sydney leaned against the kitchen doorjamb.

"He's getting dressed. He should be down shortly."

"Dressed?" Realization dawned, even as she said it. "No, don't tell me.  I don't want to know."

"Really, Sydney," Irina's eyes twinkled at her daughter's discomfiture.  "Your father was reading while I prepared dinner and lost track of time."

"Oh. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I'm almost finished." She moved one of the pans to a back burner.  "Why don't you go into the den and fix your father a drink."

"Okay.  Um, Mom?" Sydney paused outside the kitchen door.  "That back burner is wired opposite of what it should be." She smiled, shaking her head. "It's been like that for as long as I can remember. I don't know why Dad never got it fixed."

Irina absently brushed her hair away from her face. "You're father needs a new stove," she said thoughtfully. "This one is over twenty years old.  Harvest green was very chic when we bought it, but I think a really nice stainless steel one would be much nicer, don't you?" 

"You and Dad bought the stove?"

Irina nodded. "About two weeks before I … had to go away."

"Oh." She looked from her mother to the stove and back.  "I think a stainless steel one would be nice."

Sydney wandered from the kitchen into the den.  She sat back against the couch and ran her fingers lightly through her hair, shoving the loose strands behind her ears.  The strangeness of seeing her mother busily preparing dinner made her feel a little disoriented. Vague images of her mother baking cookies flitted across her memories. She grabbed the throw pillow from the end of the couch and hugged it to her chest. The memories and the reality merged as she listened to the soft sound of her mother humming as she worked.

A creak from the stairwell warned her that her father was on his way down.  She gave the pillow a gentle squeeze and started to replace it, when her hand brushed against the hard shell of a book. Curious, she picked it up.  When she opened it, her mother's neat handwriting immediately popped out at her. 

"Sydney said her first word today.  It figures it would be 'dada'.  She's definitely 'daddy's little girl'. If she has Jack wrapped around her little finger now, I can't imagine what it will be like when she's a teenager.

"Sydney?" At her father's voice, she quickly shoved the book into her handbag. 

"Wow, Dad." She gave him an appreciative whistle. "You look hot. Black is definitely your color."

 "I'm not sure that is an appropriate remark for a daughter to make, but … thank you."

"So what's for dinner?"

"Pork roast."

"Pork roast?"

"I like pork roast."

"Dad, I've never seen you eat pork roast."

Jack frowned.  "Of course I've eaten pork roast."

"So … why pork roast?"

"Your mother … Sydney, why all the questions about pork roast?"

"It just seems a strange choice."

"I asked your mother to make it."

"You asked her to make it?"

"Sydney…" he glared at her.

"Okay, okay.  I was just kidding, Dad."

"Dinner is ready."  Irina stood at the door watching the exchange between father and daughter. Sydney's gentle teasing heartened her.  It had saddened her when she first learned of their estrangement and that her betrayal had, in some measure, caused it. 

"So, Mom, we're having pork roast." Sydney glanced over at her father, eyes dancing. 

"Sydney…" Jack warned.

Irina laughed.  "I know what you are up to Sydney. Yes, there is a story behind the pork roast."

"I thought so." She sighed dramatically.  "Getting anything out of Dad is like pulling teeth." 

"When we were first married, I didn't really know how to cook." She glanced over at Jack. "My father was a high ranking member of the Communist party and we had servants who took care of the household.  As my parent's only child, I was expected to marry well. Cooking was not a required skill for someone in my social sphere."  She reached for Jack's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"The first year we were married, your father suffered through some pretty awful meals." She held his hand tighter.  "He never complained, though.  His mother came to visit and she taught me how to make a pork roast.  Your father loved it.  A lot.  So I started cooking it more often. I think my record for one week was five out of seven dinners featured pork roast." She laughed softly at the memory.  "I think that was the final straw.  Your dad signed us both up for a cooking class."

"Why both of you?" Sydney glanced over at her father.

"We were both working and your mother was given more responsibilities at the college.  I thought it was only fair that we share the duties.  Besides, it was something fun we could do together. Your mother really excelled in the class, even if I was ready to pound the teacher's face into the ground."

"You were no slouch yourself, Jack. And the teacher was not making passes at me, sweetheart."

"Irina, he kept brushing up against you."

"That was your overactive imagination. He didn't even come near me the last few weeks of the class."

"That's because I told him if he tried to touch you one more time, I'd knock his teeth down his throat."

"Dad, you didn't!"

"I did. He made sure he stayed away from her after that."  Jack told her, not bothering to hide his satisfaction.

Sydney bit into a slice of the roast.  "Wow, this really is good, Mom."  Irina beamed at the compliment. 

"Mom," Sydney said hesitantly.  "You mentioned your family…" She glanced at her father begging silent forgiveness for opening old wounds.

"You want to know more about them?" She, too, glanced at Jack, her own eyes asking forgiveness.

"I'm interested, too, Irina."  Jack smiled when their eyes met his with identical expressions of relief. 

"My father was one of Nikita Khrushchev's select party members and later, allied himself to Leonid Brezhnev. My upbringing was very privileged by any standard.  I was expected to marry well and bring further glory to the family.  When I was seventeen, my father selected his future son-in-law."  She paused, remembering how angry she had been at her father. "He was quite a bit older than I and already well on his way up the Soviet ladder.  I was not very happy about my father's decision. So when the KGB approached me about joining, I jumped at the opportunity."

"Who was the man your father chose?  Is he famous?"

Irina looked at Jack, who was studying his plate with great interest.  "No, not really.  He died suddenly in 82. His heart stopped beating." 

"He had a heart attack?"

"You could call it that."  Irina paused, going for maximum effect.  "The knife I put through his chest probably didn't help."

"You put a knife through his chest?" Sydney swallowed. "Mom…"

"He was in charge of a prison near the Indian border. When he found out I was to be one of his prisoner's, he took great pleasure in extracting revenge."

"Revenge?" Sydney looked confused.  "For what? You weren't even engaged."

"An arrangement had already been made between my father and him. Favors had already been exchanged, although I wasn't aware of it at the time. When I told my father about joining the KGB, he was not happy.  He tried to get me released, but his influence was not strong enough to block it."

"You said your mother gave you those earring when you graduated?" Sydney broke in softly. "I guess she was okay with your decision."

Irina nodded.  "She was proud of me.  I graduated first in my class and she envisioned me performing some glorious deed for Mother Russia."  Irina reached under the table, her hand searching for Jack's.  When she found it, she clasped her hand in his, giving him a gentle squeeze.  "I was disappointed with my first assignment.  Instead of sneaking into some Capitalist stronghold and stealing secrets, I was sent to America to seduce one of their top agents."  She felt Jack tense and she held his hand tighter.  "He was young, but incredibly bright, they told me.  The assignment was to be a year, two at the most. That's usually the optimum time frame for success without discovery."  She felt Jack's hand pull away from hers. Desperately, she continued, hoping Jack would understand. 

"Pretending you are in love with someone isn't easy and the agent starts slipping up after about that time.  That's how the 'mark' realizes what is happening." 

Sydney felt the tension between her parents. "Mom, maybe you should tell me about this another time."

"No, Sydney." Jack's voice was raw with emotion.  "Let her tell it. Hiding from the truth won't make it any more palatable. Obviously I wasn't as intelligent as the KGB thought.  I'm sure they all had a good laugh." 

"Jack…" Irina felt the pain of his words. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around him and hold him tight, but knew that the moment wasn't right. 

"Go ahead, Irina." Jack took a deep breath.  "This way, you only have to tell it once."

"The KGB file classified your father as emotionally repressed and somewhat of a loner.  He was not known to have any attachments at that time, but had dated women in the past."

"What exactly was that supposed to mean?" Jack snorted. 

"They wanted to make sure you weren't playing for the other team, Jack."

"I understood that.  I am not emotionally repressed, nor a loner…"

"I know that, dear, but you are a very passionate man, who hides those feelings from outsiders well and their definitions were far too simplistic for a man like you." She smiled at him and this time he allowed her to take his hand. 

"You are really good at hiding what you are feeling, Dad. When I was growing up, you never showed you cared…"

Jack stared at his daughter, then looked away. "I did what was necessary, Sydney."

"Necessary?  You locked me out!"

"I had to.  For your own sake."

"How can you say that, Dad?"  Sydney's voice started to rise.  "I needed you…"

 "You have no idea what you are talking about," Jack interrupted harshly.  "You remember the events from a child's' view.  It was far more complicated than that.  I did what I thought was best for you."

"What was so complicated about a little girl needing her father?" Sydney angrily brushed back the tears that spilled unbidden down her cheek.  "All I needed to know was that you loved me," she whispered hoarsely.

"Of course I loved you. Every decision I made…" Jack's voice broke off.  "You were having terrible nightmares.  Every night, you would wake up screaming for your mother.  The doctor's told me that you would get better with time. Then they locked me up for six months.  When I came back home, you were worse. Every night was a battle to get you to go to bed. I'd wake up in the middle of the night and find you asleep in my bed. I'd carry you back to your own bed and an hour later, you would wake up screaming." 

"I don't remember any of this, Dad."  

"You were a child, Sydney, and it was a very traumatic time for you."  Jack's hands trembled as he took a sip from his wineglass. "Are you sure you really want to hear about this?"

"I never understood why you pushed me away."  Sydney fiddled with her fork, pushing at the food on her plate.  "I thought the only person you ever cared about was mom and once she was gone, you wanted me gone, too."   She looked her father squarely in the eyes.  "Yes, Dad, I want to know why you acted like I didn't exist for almost twenty years of my life."

Jack flinched at her words. "I know you feel that way, but I did care. You were the center of my universe. But I couldn't let you know that.  Sydney, I wanted so much to hold you, to hug you when you hurt, but it just wasn't possible."

"Why not?"

"After we got back from our Disney trip, I took on what I thought was my final assignment.  It required me to be gone for days at a time. When I was able to get home, you would cling to me. When I had to leave again, you would cry and beg me not to leave.  More than anything in the world, I wanted to tell you that I would never leave you alone again. I couldn't take you to school in the mornings. You would cry... loud, choking sobs and hold onto me. I felt like an ogre when I let them pull you away."  Jack paused and looked distantly out the window.

"Separation anxiety.  That's what the doctors told me.  It would take time, but eventually you would get better.  When you began having the panic attacks, I didn't know what to do. Sometimes I couldn't even get you out of the house. "

The room crackled with tension. Sydney stared at her plate, silent tears slipping down her cheeks.

Jack finally looked away from the window to his daughter.  "I planned to leave the CIA and get a job where I could spend more time with you. I had one final job to complete, my final penance for my profound stupidity."  Jack's eyes flickered to Irina as he heard her gasp. "That was my reasoning then, Irina.  Six months of having the CIA and the FBI tell me I was an idiot and a fool took its toll. I was asked to infiltrate a newly formed mercenary group called The Secret Society.  It was rumored that several CIA agents were involved in its formation.  My job was to determine who was running the operation. I was to pose as a disenchanted agent." 

He shrugged wryly. "It wasn't much of a stretch at the time.  I frequented the appropriate bars. Word got around and an offer was made to join.   It took about six months before they invited me into the inner circle.  When I met the leader of the group, I knew that it truly was my final assignment."

Irina understood immediately and gripped Jack's hand tightly in her own.  "The leader was Arvin Sloane, wasn't it?"  The cold dryness of her voice matched Jack's. "Once you knew, leaving was not an option."

"We could have gone into the Witness Protection Plan, Dad. That was an option."

Jack shook his head to indicate 'no'.  "My sister's career was just taking off. She would have to go in hiding with us. She would never be able to pursue the one career she loved.  And you.  You were so young. We would have had to move every couple of months.  You wouldn't be able to have friends; it would be too risky. Besides, I didn't want you to grow up always looking over your shoulder."

"And they would have found you, anyway."  Irina shivered, as she thought of how easily she could have lost her family. "You could have died. Either way, you could have died.."

"Yes."

Irina lightly placed her hand on his shoulder. "You were worried that Sydney wouldn't be strong enough emotionally to handle your death, too."

"Yes."

"So you pushed me away?"  Sydney stared blank faced at her father.

"Yes."

 "And you think pushing me away was better than taking a chance in the Witness Protection Program?"

"I know it was."

"How can you be so sure?"

Jack was silent for a moment and Sydney thought at first that he wasn't going to answer. 

When he finally spoke, there was a hint of sadness and regret that filtered through his quiet assurance. "They would have found us within six months and we wouldn't be sitting here having this little chat.  That's how I can be so sure." 

"Dad, lots of people have survived in the Witness Protection program. Sure, sometimes people are found, but it's usually because they contact someone from their old life."

Jack threw his napkin on the table.  "Dan Everett had a wife and two children.  His oldest daughter dreamed of going to Harvard.  She was very bright, but not quite enough for the scholarship money needed to pay the requisite tuition.  The Secret Society made Dan an offer that was too good to be true. They sold him on the idea that he would still be working for the 'good guys', people who had only the best interest of the country at heart.  The salary was three times what the CIA paid. He could put his daughter through college and maintain the lifestyle to which he'd become accustomed.  A year later, he stumbled across some information on one of the more covert of the Society's secret operations.  It involved the assassination of a key political player.  The politician was well liked and there was talk of a run for the Presidency."

Jack picked up his wineglass and swirled the liquid around before taking a sip.  "Dan started to dig a little deeper.  What he found scared him.  He contacted the CIA and started feeding them information.  When the assassination attempt failed, the Society started investigating. The CIA helped Dan and his family disappear.  One month later, one of Dan's cousins was shot as he and his family were leaving for church. Six weeks later, their next-door neighbor was killed in a freak car accident.  Eight weeks later, an uncle's house exploded while the family slept. Ten weeks later, their daughter's boyfriend was killed by a hit and run driver. Eleven weeks later, the daughter was found in a dumpster with a wire around her neck." Jack took another swallow of wine.  Sloane had shown photo's of her mutilated body at the next briefing.

"The next day, the police found Dan and his wife dead in their home. The teenage son was missing. The FBI searched the neighborhood, but he was long gone. A Society operative picked him up from school hours before the hit.   They told him his father had murdered his mother and sister and he was next.  The police drew a similar conclusion.  They presumed that the boy was also dead and closed the case."

"It wasn't until Sloane changed the name of the organization to SD-6 that recruits were told they were working for a black ops division of the CIA. Before that, example was the best way to keep those who thought about straying in line.  Three agents tried to leave in that first year.  None of them survived."  Jack's eyes clouded as he remembered the men who had once been his friends and comrades.  He had known their wives and children. 

"What I was doing was dangerous enough. I laid low for several years, desperately trying to keep under Sloane's radar. It was more difficult because we had once been friends."

"That still doesn't explain why you continued to treat me like a …" She searched for the word. "…like a leper.  When I was older, you could have explained you had a dangerous job.  I could have handled it."

"Sloane kept asking me to bring you to the family Christmas parties and picnics. I kept telling him you preferred to stay home. I didn't want you any where near him or SD-6. You were perverse enough at that time to latch on to Sloane to spite me and he would have played on your vulnerability. Your anger at me was my best cover and my worst nightmare."  Jack shoved his chair back.  "I don't know how this conversation went from being about your mother to being about me."  He leaned over and took Sydney's hand in his.  "I can't take away those lost years, Sydney.  If the same choices were placed before me today, I don't know if I would make the same decisions. I thought I was keeping you away from all this and instead, I made it that much easier for Sloane to lure you in.  The only thing I can say in my defense is that everything I did was because I loved you."

Sydney listened in horror as her father revealed a different side of her childhood. "Dad, there is something I never told you."

…………………………………

"Before you say anything, let's go into the den.  I think your father needs something a little stronger to drink." Irina moved to her husband's side and gently placed a hand under his elbow.  "I think we all need something a little stronger to drink." 

"Sydney, will you give your mother and me a moment?" Sydney looked at her father curiously, but nodded and left them alone.

"Is something wrong, Jack?" Irina tensed, not sure of Jack's mood after the difficult revelations over dinner.

"I'm sorry about tonight." He said softly, pulling her into his arms. "I know how much you were looking forward to a nice family meal."

"And we did have a nice family meal.  My pork roast turned out great."

Jack laughed.  "Yes, it did. But you know what I meant, sweetheart. I shouldn't have told Sydney … I should have waited for a more appropriate time."

"This was the appropriate time.  Sydney needed to hear it." She paused.  "And so did I.  Jack… there is so much about that time that I don't know, that I don't understand.  Tonight helped me to put things in better perspective." She lightly caressed his cheek.  "It helps to know that you didn't push her away because she reminded you of me."

He looked into her eyes then. "You thought I was that shallow?"

"No, I thought you were that hurt." She took a deep breath. "We better go in and find out whatever it is that Sydney never told you."

"She never told me a lot of things." He said dryly.  "The worst thing she ever did that I am not supposed to know about was when she was caught kissing a boy in the girls bathroom. She should have been in biology class. A guidance counselor found them making out in one of the stalls.  Sydney told the teacher they were conducting a biology experiment." 

They walked, arms linked, into the den.  Sydney was sitting in a recliner, a glass of ginger ale sweating on the table next to her.  A bottle of whiskey sat on the coffee table, with two half filled glasses resting on soapstone coasters.

Irina's eyes widened when she read the label on the bottle. "Wild Turkey, sweetheart?"

"I thought you might need the strong stuff."

"You aren't going to tell us how you lost your virginity, are you?"

"Mom!" Sydney shot an embarrassed look at her father.  He flushed slightly. "Oh, my god, Dad.  You already know, don't you?"

"Yes."  

"How?" she demanded. "I never told anyone."

Jack looked away, his face turning a deeper shade of red. "I…Sydney, you told me."

"I told you? When? I couldn't have. I didn't even tell Francie.  Why would I tell you?"

"I don't think you knew I was there. You've always talked in your sleep whenever something is troubling you and quite frequently you would sleep walk." Jack smiled at Sydney. "I would be sound asleep and the next thing I know, you're sitting on my bed telling me all your troubles."

"I don't remember any of that, Dad."

"I know. After one of our late night chats, I made a mistake the next morning by mentioning something you'd said to me the night before. You got really angry and accused me of snooping through your things."

Sydney stared at her father.  "I remember that. You asked me about Kyle. I had such a crush on him, but I didn't want anyone to know. I was so embarrassed when you asked me about him." She laughed.  "So that's how you knew.  I thought you'd read my diary." She stopped, another memory clicked into place.  "You knew that's what I was thinking. That's why you bought me the special bookcase. The man who made it came with the deliveryman and showed me how to open the secret compartment.  He said we were the only two people who knew how it worked."

"I wanted you to have some place you felt was safe for your secrets."

"So you knew what Jared did, because I told you in my sleep?"

Jack nodded. "Sloane sent me to India three weeks before your sixteenth birthday. The assignment was supposed to last a week, but Sloane kept dragging it out. I wanted to get back in time for your birthday party. I had some things of your mother's I wanted to give you. I left India on the 16th, which should have given me plenty of time to make it home. I wasn't finished with the mission and Sloane made a number of threats on what he'd do if I left before it was complete."

Jack picked up the tumbler from the coffee table.  He stared at the glass, his eyes clouded at the memory. "I got on the plane that morning.  The next thing I remember was waking up in a fleabag hotel in Melbourne.  I knew I would never make it home in time, so I called you at your school. I could tell you were angry with me, but there was nothing I could do. When I finally got home, you were already in bed, asleep. Sometime later, you came into my room and told me everything."

"Then you already know what I was going to tell you."

"If it was about the party, then … yes, I already know."

"I didn't tell you about what happened earlier…at school?"

He looked at her, puzzled.  "You didn't mention anything about school."

…………………………………………….

"I was sent back into the office about an hour after you called me.  Two men were waiting for me. They took me into the guidance counselor's office, said they were from the FBI.  I saw their badges. One of them told me you were a drug runner. They wanted me spy on you."

"My god, Jack!" Irina's eyes flashed in fury. "You didn't believe them, Sydney?"

"I told them they were wrong, that you sold airplane parts. They said that was your cover. They told me they would be back in a week to see if I found any information.  I was so scared."

Jack looked stricken.  "When you told me about what happened that night, you were a little incoherent.  You mentioned drugs, but I thought that boy… I thought that was how he got you to go with him."

"He did in a way, but I was really angry at you. And confused.  I think I would have said yes to anybody that night.  Mrs. Tanner went ahead with the party, but she had one of her migraines and went to lie down.  Jared had some pot and we all tried it.  When everyone started to leave, Jared asked me to go for a ride with him and I agreed.  I guess the pot wore off and I got scared.  I tried to say no, but he said I was just a big tease."

Jack stared unseeing at the bottle of whiskey.  "I did a little investigating of Jared, discovered his activities. I gave an anonymous tip to the police."

Sydney stared at her father.  "You did that because of what I told you?" 

"Yes."  He rubbed his temples.  "I know I wasn't much of a father to you.  I failed to protect you and I'm sorry for that.  It was the only thing I knew I could do.  I was worried that you might have gotten pregnant and I didn't want you getting a back alley abortion.  Do you remember that Doctor's appointment you had the next day?"

"You mean that physical exam I had to take because of your insurance company?"

"Yes, that one.  I told the doctor what had happened and he took the necessary steps to make sure there wasn't any chance of conception." 

"I was worried that first month.  I was so relieved when I found out I wasn't pregnant."

"What about the men who accused your father of being a drug runner?" Irina clenched the glass of whiskey tightly in her hands.  Sydney was glad it was one of the thicker ones.

"They never came back.  I decided they had made a mistake.  I'd been to Dad's office and toured the plant.  Our class did a field trip out there the year before.  I didn't tell them my dad worked there, though."

"Sloane died too easily Jack.  You should have let me torture him first."

"I thought Dad killed Sloane?"

"No Sydney, your mother did.  She saved my life. We couldn't tell anyone at the time, since by letting her leave, I let a wanted criminal escape."

"Well, this night is just full of revelations, isn't it? It must be your turn, Mom. You never did finish telling us about your assignment to spy on Dad."

"I'm not sure I want any more revelations tonight." Jack grabbed the bottle of whiskey and added a few more shots to his glass.

Irina let her hand rest on his thigh. "Not all the revelations will be bad, darling."  Jack looked unconvinced at her reassurance.

"Where was I before we got sidetracked." She winked at Sydney,  "Oh yes, the picture.  Actually, there were several photographs, all of them dreadful.  On the trip over, I devised several plans on getting the requisite information and getting out as soon as possible."

"I thought you said the revelations weren't all going to be bad," Jack interrupted testily.

"Be quiet and let me finish my story."  She allowed her hand to slip further up his thigh. "You're father had an apartment off campus and the KGB set me up in a unit in the same building.  I watched his routine for about a week before I approached him.  Sydney, this will probably not come as a shocking revelation, but your father is remarkably slow on the uptake."

"I am not.  I was just being cautious."  Jack gave his wife an affronted glare. "As it turns out, I wasn't cautious enough."

"That's because you were overwhelmed by my charm, darling." She gave his thigh a gentle squeeze.  "I made all these elaborate plans on how I was going to meet and seduce your father and the reality of it was our meeting really was accidental."

Jack snorted.  "Like hell it was."

Irina glared at Jack.  "It was too.  That package being accidentally delivered to you instead was not one of my plans."

"I know." Jack smirked.  "It was mine."

Sydney looked from her father to her mother and started laughing.  "Dad, you didn't? You intercepted Mom's mail as a ruse to meet her?"  Her father's nod caused her to laugh harder.

"It's not that funny, Sydney!" Irina told her daughter indignantly. "In ten years of marriage, Jack, you never told me that."

"The subject never came up." Jack responded with feigned innocence.

"Dinner with Mom and Dad, $50. After dinner conversation, …I'm using the good booze…$75, watching Mom's shocked expression while Dad drops a bombshell…priceless."

"Sydney, darling, you've been watching too much television." Irina gave her daughter a disapproving look.

"Too late, Mom, you can't divert me that easily.  Dad, I think you one upped her." Sydney wasn't sure, but she thought her mother might have made a noise that sounded very much like a snort. She grinned.  "So, what happened next?"

"Well, I thanked your father for bringing the package.  He told me it was very heavy and it would be easier if he brought it in for me."

"Good one, Dad."

"I wasn't born yesterday.  I had the whole thing planned out and it came off exactly as I planned it. I was quite happy it worked, but I guess any plan I devised would have achieved the same results."

"It worked better than you realized.  You took me by surprise. I can't explain it, but I fell in love with you that day.  I offered you coffee.  We sat and talked. Then you asked me out to dinner.  Nothing fancy, you said."

"The local pizza hangout, remember?"

"Afterwards, you took me back to the apartment. He didn't even kiss me good night.  I invited him to come back into the apartment, but he just said he had to study and that he'd 'see me around'."

"You went to all that trouble to meet Mom and all you could say was 'see ya'?"

"I told you, I was being cautious."

"It sounds more like you got cold feet."

"Okay, so your mother is a very beautiful woman.  When she walks into a room, heads turn."  Jack swallowed.  "I didn't realize how much out of her league I was until we walked into that pizza parlor."

"So, what happened next?"  Sydney smiled encouragingly at her mother.  "It obviously didn't end there."

"I simply revised my earlier tactics.  I accidentally knocked over your father's stack of clean clothes in the laundry room. I would bump into him in the library.  His eyes told me he was interested, but getting him to act on it was very frustrating."  Irina's lips curved into a soft smile at the memory.  "I had to almost set the apartment on fire to get his attention."

"The fire alarm went off. I was just walking up the stairs to my apartment when I heard her scream."

"I was not screaming."

"Yes, you were. The screams were so loud, I thought she was on fire. I managed to get the fire under control"

"Then I kissed him and started another fire." Her mother grinned at Sydney's look.

"Okay, I think we can skip the next part, Mom." Sydney squirmed in her chair.  "I don't need details."

"But, sweetheart, I thought you would want to know how your father…"

"I don't need to everything, Mom."  Sydney appealed to her father.  "Make her stop, Dad."

"Irina, honey, maybe we could discuss this later. When we are alone." Jack looked nervously at his wife.  She was enjoying herself far too much. 

"Sydney, I just wanted you to know that your father's insecurities were unfounded.  Women were constantly flirting with him.  He just never noticed.  When he kissed me, I didn't want him to ever stop."

"And we didn't, not for quite some time."  Jack grinned at the memory.

"My father was busy at home trying to get me reassigned.  I finally sent a message to him.  I told him that even if I did go back, I would never agree to marry Grigor.  I knew the difference, then, between love and sex. Your father taught me that."

"About the sex thing, Mom. I really would prefer you don't go there."

"Sweetheart, you do realize we had to 'go there' eventually?  The stork did not pull you out of a cabbage patch and place you in my arms."

"Yes, but I don't need details." Sydney's eyes met her father's.  "I saw more than I needed to from your honeymoon tapes."

"Our honeymoon?"  Irina looked at Jack in horror.  "She's seen…"

Jack laughed.  "Not everything, darling. I stopped it before it got too revealing."

"Trust me, Mom, it was enough!"

Irina rubbed her hand lightly along Jack's thigh.  She looked into his eyes and saw an answering spark.  "It's getting late, Sydney.  Do you want to spend the night? You're old room is ready for you."

Sydney caught the look her parents were sharing and smiled.  "I think I will take you up on that.  I am feeling a little tired and there is so much more I want to know." She stood and picked up the bottle of whiskey, murmuring a soft goodnight.

"Hmmm. See you in the morning, honey." 

"Goodnight sweetheart.  Irina, shouldn't you at least wait until she's left the room?"