Disclaimer: Yeah as if I would be writing fan fiction if owned this.
Author's note: Thanks to all of the people who have reviewed and please feel free to tell what you think even if you hate my story. I would like to know why so maybe I could improve it. It should also be noted that this is in response to a challenge over at sd-l.com. the requirements are at the bottom.
Sydney was still conscious, but nothing was right. She couldn't see, in fact, she wasn't even trying anymore, the world had turned into such a whirling blur that even her spy hardened nerves were being sent into waves of nausea. But she could still hear, not that she wanted too. She could hear Sloane's cold unnerving voice grating in her ear and making her wish she had enough control over her own musculature to shiver in disgust and revulsion. She could hear her mother as well in the background.
She wasn't sure about her mother, but then again she never was. So many times she had tried to make sense of Irina's motives, and now, when she could hardly hold on to a coherent thought, was hardly the best time. From the little that she could piece together from her jumbled memories, it seemed as if her mother was trying to get her to leave.
Before her thoughts could get any farther though, she felt a hand touch her shoulder. She opened her eyes just long enough to wish she hadn't as she realized it was Sloane standing there.
"Sydney, I'm so glad you could join us," he said with his usual sickening affection, so repulsive to Sydney that she actually wished it was her mother there instead. "I've missed you, Sydney. I suppose you felt that your betrayal was justified, but it did hurt me deeply." He sighed, "I had hoped that our relationship would mean more to you than that, but I am willing to forgive you. I've told you many times; You're like a daughter to me, Sydney and I would like you to join me, but I will not hesitate to take the necessary actions if you think to cross me again. I will talk to you again later, my dear."
He leaned down to kiss her on the cheek as he left and Sydney was sure that she was about to spontaneously combust she was so furious. She wanted to do something, anything to show Sloane that she would never again help him, and that she hated him with all of her heart and mind, but she couldn't.
Irina Derevko watched on the other side of the one-way mirror as Sloane conversed with her daughter. She hadn't wished to allow the conversation and she knew it would do nothing to sweeten Sydney's disposition towards her, but she hadn't been in a position to refuse him. Sloane didn't fully trust her yet, at least not where her daughter was concerned.
She noticed the paternal way that Arvin spoke to her daughter, and could well imagine Sydney's reaction to what he was saying, although there was no way for her to respond. She wished that she hadn't been forced into this mission. She wished that Sark hadn't come through with her back up and gassed Sydney, but most of all she wished that she had never been forced to leave the sanctuary that was the life of Laura Bristow.
However, none of that would do her any good. She had made her choice almost thirty years ago, and she would have to live with that choice. In fact, it was the only way. If only, her husband and her daughter didn't hate her. If only, they didn't think she had betrayed and abandoned them.
The expression on her face never changed. To the outside world she was still Irina Derevko powerful crime lord and master spy. It was what she had to be all of the time, except for the few very brief moments, she allowed herself to feel, or more accurately to wallow in pity and self- doubt.
The soft ringing of her cell phone drew her sharply back to the reality she had to maintain. Knowing who it was even before she answered the phone, she calmly raised it and said calmly, "Hello Arvin."
"The device will be ready soon. The translation of the script on the object is almost complete and with Sydney's cooperation we should fully operational within two days."
Irina kept her face passive, not wishing to arouse Sloane's suspicions, and changed the subject completely. "Sark's inability and stupidity is becoming dangerous, Arvin. He almost compromised my mission today, if the CIA hadn't been just as incompetent, we might not even have this object, or," she paused to stress her point, "Sydney."
"He is convenient for the time being, Irina, don't dispose of him, yet."
"Only if he doesn't jeopardize this mission again," she said with deadly seriousness and she meant it. Sark was a complication that she could deal with easily enough, but she didn't really wish too.
"I'll be returning to Emily for a few days. You'll keep me informed of any developments that occur while I'm gone, of course." He said briskly, all business.
"Of course," Irina said hoping that she didn't sound devious or too innocent. Either tone would alert Sloane immediately and that wasn't what she wanted. The conversation concluded quickly, for all that they were temporary allies, Irina and Sloane weren't really friendly with the other, they were simply a means to a mutually desirable end.
She turned back to look out at her daughter, still laying on the cold metal table in the middle of the room, that could only be called a bed by virtue of the fact that it's occupant was covered by a light sheet. Of course, Irina knew it had more to do with the covering Sydney's restraint, to appear civilized than out of any true concern for her daughter's safety.
She studied her daughter's face immediately recognizing the look of the drug that was still in Sydney's system. Her eyes were closed, but that didn't give her the illusion of looking peaceful. Her limbs were abnormally slack and didn't move at all. But despite all of that Irina still couldn't get beyond the fact that her daughter looked so much like her. She supposed it was a good thing that all things weren't genetic after all, her daughter hadn't betrayed the people she loved and she wasn't likely too. She was too much like her father in that respect and that was what worried Irina.
Sydney wasn't about to help Sloane even if it cost her, her life. Irina wasn't about to allow that though, just as she had done her best not to allow anything to harm Sydney when she was a little girl.
*Flashback*
Laura Bristow looked up angrily, her brown eyes flashing as she confronted her husband. "What was I supposed to do, Jack? Say, 'Don't blame me it was the monkey's fault."
Jack glared back at her just as angrily. "No, but you could have offered some explanation for your behavior."
Irina bit her lip, biting back the comment on the tip of her tongue as well. She needed to calm down a moment before she spoke. She couldn't afford anymore slip ups today. To Jack she simply looked at him icily and walked away. She ended up, as she knew she would, standing in the doorway to her daughter's bedroom, looking in at her sadly.
She would never regret her decision to have a child with Jack, no matter what her superiors said. It was one of the few major choices that hadn't been made for her by her KGB superiors in the past few years. No matter how satisfied she was with her decision though, what happened today had been terrifying. To many things had gone wrong and all of it had been out of Irina's control.
She had been returning from the park with her daughter, tired from romping in the park fast asleep in the back seat. She hadn't really been low on gas, but she had stopped at the gas station none the less. Her current handler, a man who she only knew by his alias, was currently posing as the gas station manager. It wasn't the most glamorous job, but it wouldn't look suspicious if she saw him while she was getting gas.
Today had been different, though. She had generally tried to make it a rule to keep Sydney away from her meetings with her KGB handler. Mainly because she didn't want her daughter exposed to anything in her world, the world or spies and assassins, but also because Sydney was simply too smart. Her daughter might not know what exactly was going on, but she could easily blow Irina's cover.
She had only agreed to today's hasty gas station meeting because she had been several days late in reporting in. David Weston, at least that was his alias, was an innocuous sort of man and not one who would be suspected of being intelligent or competent enough to be a spy. Perhaps that was his value, but Irina didn't care. The man was of average height and coloration and wasn't distinguishable for any reason except for his slovenly appearance. She had discovered early on in her relationship with Jack, though, that when necessary, Weston could be as intimidating as Cuvee, when he wanted too.
Weston had been upset with her today; it was growing to be a habit as Irina realized she was becoming more and more reticent to divulge information about Jack's mission. The thought of what would become of her daughter if Jack died and the CIA discovered her real identity had long haunted her and today it had come way to close to reality.
Her drop had proceeded as usual. She had pulled up to pump five and asked for three gallons of gas. She had gotten out of the car to clean the windows as Weston helpfully pumped the gas. Their hissed conversation was carried out as quickly and quietly as possible. Nothing would have gone wrong if it wasn't for that damn monkey.
From what she could determine, Weston's cover had been blown. There could be no other explanation for it. CIA operatives didn't appear out of thin air. They arrived for a purpose and seeing that she wasn't in custody, that purpose wasn't her. The monkey though had started it all. With a fondness for shiny things that seemed to be common to all curious primates, the monkey had run over and snatched Weston's weapon from his supposedly concealed location inside his jacket pocket and started waving it around. The ensuing chaos and gunfire that had erupted all around them had presented Irina with few choices.
She and Sydney were in the middle of the firing and for a moment it seemed as if she would have little choice but to use her skills to get her daughter to safety, even if it did mean blowing her cover. However, the CIA had gotten the situation under control at the last moment, leaving Irina safe, but shaken at the danger her daughter had been in.
Explaining what had happened to Jack had been even more difficult and had led to a furious argument that had yet to reach its conclusion. A strong pair of arms slipped around her waist, and for a moment Laura remained tense and stiff in his arms, but then she relaxed. She would never be able to tell Jack the whole truth about that incident, although he had probably figured it out sometime since she had disappeared, but she would carry the guilt of it for a very long time.
"I'm sorry, Laura," he whispered softly in her ear. "I just love you and Sydney, so much I couldn't stand the thought of something happening to either of you. You two are the most precious things in my life."
Relaxing fully, Irina let his words comfort her, knowing they were an illusion, but needing to hang onto them, nonetheless for the sake of her sanity. As she softly whispered her love for her husband back to him, she silently promised herself she would never again be in a position where she had no control over the life and death of her daughter. It was a promise she would keep no matter the circumstances, no matter how long it took and no matter how many people like David Weston or Arvin Sloane were in her way.
Requirements:
-Must be a J/I fic of course
-An orginal character
-The line: Don't blame me it was the monkey's fault.
-a gas station
-a telephone conversation
- and a flashback
Author's note: Thanks to all of the people who have reviewed and please feel free to tell what you think even if you hate my story. I would like to know why so maybe I could improve it. It should also be noted that this is in response to a challenge over at sd-l.com. the requirements are at the bottom.
Sydney was still conscious, but nothing was right. She couldn't see, in fact, she wasn't even trying anymore, the world had turned into such a whirling blur that even her spy hardened nerves were being sent into waves of nausea. But she could still hear, not that she wanted too. She could hear Sloane's cold unnerving voice grating in her ear and making her wish she had enough control over her own musculature to shiver in disgust and revulsion. She could hear her mother as well in the background.
She wasn't sure about her mother, but then again she never was. So many times she had tried to make sense of Irina's motives, and now, when she could hardly hold on to a coherent thought, was hardly the best time. From the little that she could piece together from her jumbled memories, it seemed as if her mother was trying to get her to leave.
Before her thoughts could get any farther though, she felt a hand touch her shoulder. She opened her eyes just long enough to wish she hadn't as she realized it was Sloane standing there.
"Sydney, I'm so glad you could join us," he said with his usual sickening affection, so repulsive to Sydney that she actually wished it was her mother there instead. "I've missed you, Sydney. I suppose you felt that your betrayal was justified, but it did hurt me deeply." He sighed, "I had hoped that our relationship would mean more to you than that, but I am willing to forgive you. I've told you many times; You're like a daughter to me, Sydney and I would like you to join me, but I will not hesitate to take the necessary actions if you think to cross me again. I will talk to you again later, my dear."
He leaned down to kiss her on the cheek as he left and Sydney was sure that she was about to spontaneously combust she was so furious. She wanted to do something, anything to show Sloane that she would never again help him, and that she hated him with all of her heart and mind, but she couldn't.
Irina Derevko watched on the other side of the one-way mirror as Sloane conversed with her daughter. She hadn't wished to allow the conversation and she knew it would do nothing to sweeten Sydney's disposition towards her, but she hadn't been in a position to refuse him. Sloane didn't fully trust her yet, at least not where her daughter was concerned.
She noticed the paternal way that Arvin spoke to her daughter, and could well imagine Sydney's reaction to what he was saying, although there was no way for her to respond. She wished that she hadn't been forced into this mission. She wished that Sark hadn't come through with her back up and gassed Sydney, but most of all she wished that she had never been forced to leave the sanctuary that was the life of Laura Bristow.
However, none of that would do her any good. She had made her choice almost thirty years ago, and she would have to live with that choice. In fact, it was the only way. If only, her husband and her daughter didn't hate her. If only, they didn't think she had betrayed and abandoned them.
The expression on her face never changed. To the outside world she was still Irina Derevko powerful crime lord and master spy. It was what she had to be all of the time, except for the few very brief moments, she allowed herself to feel, or more accurately to wallow in pity and self- doubt.
The soft ringing of her cell phone drew her sharply back to the reality she had to maintain. Knowing who it was even before she answered the phone, she calmly raised it and said calmly, "Hello Arvin."
"The device will be ready soon. The translation of the script on the object is almost complete and with Sydney's cooperation we should fully operational within two days."
Irina kept her face passive, not wishing to arouse Sloane's suspicions, and changed the subject completely. "Sark's inability and stupidity is becoming dangerous, Arvin. He almost compromised my mission today, if the CIA hadn't been just as incompetent, we might not even have this object, or," she paused to stress her point, "Sydney."
"He is convenient for the time being, Irina, don't dispose of him, yet."
"Only if he doesn't jeopardize this mission again," she said with deadly seriousness and she meant it. Sark was a complication that she could deal with easily enough, but she didn't really wish too.
"I'll be returning to Emily for a few days. You'll keep me informed of any developments that occur while I'm gone, of course." He said briskly, all business.
"Of course," Irina said hoping that she didn't sound devious or too innocent. Either tone would alert Sloane immediately and that wasn't what she wanted. The conversation concluded quickly, for all that they were temporary allies, Irina and Sloane weren't really friendly with the other, they were simply a means to a mutually desirable end.
She turned back to look out at her daughter, still laying on the cold metal table in the middle of the room, that could only be called a bed by virtue of the fact that it's occupant was covered by a light sheet. Of course, Irina knew it had more to do with the covering Sydney's restraint, to appear civilized than out of any true concern for her daughter's safety.
She studied her daughter's face immediately recognizing the look of the drug that was still in Sydney's system. Her eyes were closed, but that didn't give her the illusion of looking peaceful. Her limbs were abnormally slack and didn't move at all. But despite all of that Irina still couldn't get beyond the fact that her daughter looked so much like her. She supposed it was a good thing that all things weren't genetic after all, her daughter hadn't betrayed the people she loved and she wasn't likely too. She was too much like her father in that respect and that was what worried Irina.
Sydney wasn't about to help Sloane even if it cost her, her life. Irina wasn't about to allow that though, just as she had done her best not to allow anything to harm Sydney when she was a little girl.
*Flashback*
Laura Bristow looked up angrily, her brown eyes flashing as she confronted her husband. "What was I supposed to do, Jack? Say, 'Don't blame me it was the monkey's fault."
Jack glared back at her just as angrily. "No, but you could have offered some explanation for your behavior."
Irina bit her lip, biting back the comment on the tip of her tongue as well. She needed to calm down a moment before she spoke. She couldn't afford anymore slip ups today. To Jack she simply looked at him icily and walked away. She ended up, as she knew she would, standing in the doorway to her daughter's bedroom, looking in at her sadly.
She would never regret her decision to have a child with Jack, no matter what her superiors said. It was one of the few major choices that hadn't been made for her by her KGB superiors in the past few years. No matter how satisfied she was with her decision though, what happened today had been terrifying. To many things had gone wrong and all of it had been out of Irina's control.
She had been returning from the park with her daughter, tired from romping in the park fast asleep in the back seat. She hadn't really been low on gas, but she had stopped at the gas station none the less. Her current handler, a man who she only knew by his alias, was currently posing as the gas station manager. It wasn't the most glamorous job, but it wouldn't look suspicious if she saw him while she was getting gas.
Today had been different, though. She had generally tried to make it a rule to keep Sydney away from her meetings with her KGB handler. Mainly because she didn't want her daughter exposed to anything in her world, the world or spies and assassins, but also because Sydney was simply too smart. Her daughter might not know what exactly was going on, but she could easily blow Irina's cover.
She had only agreed to today's hasty gas station meeting because she had been several days late in reporting in. David Weston, at least that was his alias, was an innocuous sort of man and not one who would be suspected of being intelligent or competent enough to be a spy. Perhaps that was his value, but Irina didn't care. The man was of average height and coloration and wasn't distinguishable for any reason except for his slovenly appearance. She had discovered early on in her relationship with Jack, though, that when necessary, Weston could be as intimidating as Cuvee, when he wanted too.
Weston had been upset with her today; it was growing to be a habit as Irina realized she was becoming more and more reticent to divulge information about Jack's mission. The thought of what would become of her daughter if Jack died and the CIA discovered her real identity had long haunted her and today it had come way to close to reality.
Her drop had proceeded as usual. She had pulled up to pump five and asked for three gallons of gas. She had gotten out of the car to clean the windows as Weston helpfully pumped the gas. Their hissed conversation was carried out as quickly and quietly as possible. Nothing would have gone wrong if it wasn't for that damn monkey.
From what she could determine, Weston's cover had been blown. There could be no other explanation for it. CIA operatives didn't appear out of thin air. They arrived for a purpose and seeing that she wasn't in custody, that purpose wasn't her. The monkey though had started it all. With a fondness for shiny things that seemed to be common to all curious primates, the monkey had run over and snatched Weston's weapon from his supposedly concealed location inside his jacket pocket and started waving it around. The ensuing chaos and gunfire that had erupted all around them had presented Irina with few choices.
She and Sydney were in the middle of the firing and for a moment it seemed as if she would have little choice but to use her skills to get her daughter to safety, even if it did mean blowing her cover. However, the CIA had gotten the situation under control at the last moment, leaving Irina safe, but shaken at the danger her daughter had been in.
Explaining what had happened to Jack had been even more difficult and had led to a furious argument that had yet to reach its conclusion. A strong pair of arms slipped around her waist, and for a moment Laura remained tense and stiff in his arms, but then she relaxed. She would never be able to tell Jack the whole truth about that incident, although he had probably figured it out sometime since she had disappeared, but she would carry the guilt of it for a very long time.
"I'm sorry, Laura," he whispered softly in her ear. "I just love you and Sydney, so much I couldn't stand the thought of something happening to either of you. You two are the most precious things in my life."
Relaxing fully, Irina let his words comfort her, knowing they were an illusion, but needing to hang onto them, nonetheless for the sake of her sanity. As she softly whispered her love for her husband back to him, she silently promised herself she would never again be in a position where she had no control over the life and death of her daughter. It was a promise she would keep no matter the circumstances, no matter how long it took and no matter how many people like David Weston or Arvin Sloane were in her way.
Requirements:
-Must be a J/I fic of course
-An orginal character
-The line: Don't blame me it was the monkey's fault.
-a gas station
-a telephone conversation
- and a flashback
