Two Years

by: Crimson Snow (Dru)

Disclaimer in ch.1

A/N: THANKS again to LightTraveller for checking my fic over. And THANKS for the reviews.

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Last time:

She loved the whole thing; the danger, the kill, the escape. She was born for this, she knew it.

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"What are you doing here? And what's with the french accent?" Her father asked her, as she stood still and tried to think of a way to get away from them.

"And why are you wearing a wig?" Her mother asked her.

*Wait. How does my mother know this is a wig?* Lindsey thought to herself. "How do you know I didn't just cut and dye my hair? It's possible. I haven't seen you in two years and the reason I'm here is because I wanna be an actress. I was here with a friend of my but something upset her and she stormed out. The people in there think I'm French and well, I wanted to see how long they lasted without me giving them any hints. I'm

really sorry, I'll talk to you later. I have to go now." She tells them, but as she turns her back in them and starts to walk away when she remembered the holder that she had kept the knife in. *They probably didn't notice it. It's black, against my black leather pants and the sun's been down for a few hours.* Lindsey was thinking and didn't seem to notice when one of her gloves fell to the ground as she stuffed the skirt and gloves into a bag that she had left outside, on her motorcycle.

The wind blows it towards her parents who are walking in her direction, her mother picks it up and is about to tell her daughter she missed one of her gloves but they only see Lindsey drive off on her motorcycle.

Then Syd notices something, in the palm of the glove, it was a little darker and harder than the rest of the fabric. And if there was one thing Syd could recognize anywhere, that would be blood.

She hands Sark the glove.

"There could be a reasonable explanation for the blood in her glove, right?" Syd asked her husband, who was examining the glove. He puts it in the pocket of his suit, and takes his wife hand.

"We really should be getting back in there, and see what all the fuss is about." He tells her, as they walk towards the front door again.

When inside, they see the host's wife in a ruined dress.

"What happened?" Sydney asked, a old woman in an emerald green dress. The woman looks at her strangely but tells her that the host had been killed. That his wife had found him on the second floor, where no one was supposed to go. That people had seen him go upstairs with a dark-haired young thing in a purple dress.Then she said she didn't know exactly how but he had been murdered with a knife that had been left behind.

"Apparently his throat might have been slashed." The old woman ended, as she walked away to join the grieving wife that sat on the stairs.

Syd looks at Sark, he had also heard the whole thing.

"What has she gotten herself into this time?" When Lindsey was younger she was always getting into trouble.

The next day, they found out that the man that had been murdered yesterday, that might have been killed by their daughter, had been helping some government catch some new bad guy.

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When Irina walked into the living room of the house that Khasinau had left his son, Mikhail, she saw a blonde girl lying on a sofa watching TV and chewing on one of the blonde tendrils of her long, slightly curly, blonde hair.

Irina watches the young girl, and thinks that the grand-daughter Sark told her about 20 years ago could maybe look like that now. But that couldn't be her, could it? What would she be doing here?

The girl looks up and sees Irina, who was of course much older now but still in pretty good health. The girl has hazel brown eyes but those could be fake color.

"Who are you?" Asked Irina, but before the girl responded a door was open and in walked a black haired young man.

The blonde smiled and got up from the sofa and went to the young man. She whispered something in his ear, he smiled and put a hand on her waist.

"Irina Derevko, this is Lindsey Holt. Lindsey, this is Irina Derevko. My father worked for her before he died."

Mikhail said, he didn't know that it was Irina that killed his father.

"Nice to meet you, Lindsey. What are you're parents names?" She asked the blonde, that was still beside Mikhail, this could be a coincidence or maybe this really was her daughter's daughter.

"I'm not going to tell you, Irina Derevko, anything about my family." When Lindsey said that Irina only smiled.

"Mikhail, can I talk to you outside for a moment?" She asked him. Lindsey looks at Mikhail, then steps away from him and goes back to the TV.

Irina and him walk out of the living room, into the hall.

"What do you know about this young woman?" Irina asked him.

"Well, she's 20. She says she's a mix of russian/british/irish. Something to do with her parents. She was on her second year in Harvard when I met her. She quit and came to work for me." He tells her, she was also his girlfriend but he was kinda scared of her sometimes but he was not gonna admit that to his father's former employer.

"What does she do here?" Irina asked him.

"She's an assassin." He tells Irina, like there's nothing more normal in the world.

"An assassin? That blonde girl that was watching TV and eating her own hair?" Irina asked, in an surprised tone.

"Yeah. Doesn't like to use guns. She more for all kinds of knifes and such. You heard of the man killed in Milan, that one that was going to rat us out?" Mikhail asked her.

"Yes. what about that?" She asked him, suspecting that was something she had done.

"She did that and I think she got away with it. There was too much panic to see her leave the party, she said."

He tells her, beaming with pride.

"Do you know anything about her parents or maybe her family?" She asked now.

"Well, I only know her mother's name. It accidentally slipped one night, when were talking shortly after we first met." He says, to a suspicious Irina.

"Well, what is it?" Irina asked again.

"It's Audrey Holt. Why are you so interested in her parents?" Mikhail asked the, now, smiling Irina.

"This is going to be fun." Is the only thing the, now ear to ear, smiling Irina told him.

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TBC...

*Please, tell me what ya think. ~ C*