Disclaimer: I do not own the characters nor do I profit economically when I write stories about them.
CHAPTER EIGHT
When Sydney arrived, Vaughn and Paris were playing scrabble. She had given her mother the change of clothes she has gotten from the office and was now taking a shower. She heard Vaughn asking about a word Paris placed on the board.
"What is H-H-O?" Vaughn asked.
"Uh… water?" Paris answered.
"That is a direct violation of the rules!" Vaughn exclaimed. He lost all the games he suggested they play. Chinese checkers, snake and ladders and backgammon.
"It's a chemical equation." Paris reasoned.
"Yes, but its not a word!"
A pause.
"Okay." Paris shrugged and took the three letters. She replaced it with 'harlot'.
"Nice." Vaughn commented. Paris gave him a snicker. Sydney sat down on the couch and observed what they were doing.
"Wanna join?" Paris asked her. Sydney smiled as she was given the extra ledge for her the letters.
"Agent Vaughn's a boring challenger." Paris teased.
A few minutes and thirty plus letters later, Vaughn asked Sydney where Jack was.
"I don't know. He's supposed to arrive first. Maybe he got delayed or something."
Paris rose up. "I'm going to get some water. I'm going to skip the turns that I'm going to miss." She said. She wants Sydney and Vaughn to have a conversation freely, without a stranger hearing what they might want to possibly say to each other.
"That's easy for her to say. She has a hundred point lead." Vaughn mumbled.
"Is Agent Vaughn a sore loser too?" Sydney joked.
"Not really." Vaughn replied. He placed the word 'time' below 'harlot'.
"I think the call Dad got this breakfast was from somebody important and at the same time he hates." Sydney said.
"What made you say that?"
"He said 'no' in the tone he normally uses when he lies." Sydney answered. Vaughn nodded, knowing very well what she meant, and gave her a little smile.
"The annulment was finalized." Vaughn said after a few minutes. Paris hasn't yet returned from the kitchen.
"When?" Sydney asked nonchalantly. Even if she really wants to be together with Vaughn again, there is still this remnant of Lauren that is going to be etched in his heart forever.
"Yesterday. The answering machine got the message." Lauren will now just be a memory. He wants to have a new start with Sydney. If she wants to. Sydney nodded her head, at the same time, Paris re-entered the living room.
"Who's leading?" she asked as she settled to her original place.
"Still you." Vaughn replied. "By the way, does Sark know you? I mean Sydney told us yesterday…"
"Uh… yeah. He was my best friend. Then I found out that he's into world domination, so I refused to talk to him." Paris replied.
"Really?" Sydney and Vaughn asked in amazement.
"Yes. He was nice and sweet. I don't know if he's still the same." Paris said.
Vaughn's pager then beeped. The message wants him to go to the security section of the safe house. He excused himself, stood up and left the room.
'You know we haven't formally gotten to know each other." Paris said after placing the word 'queen' on the board.
"You're right. Do you want to start?" Sydney asked, smiling. Her sister was adjusting well.
"Well… okay. My name is Parisenne Mikaela Derevko. I was named after the city of Paris and my uncle who died. I graduated from Cambridge University. I have astigmatism and I'm supposed to wear corrective glasses. I also wore retainers in my teeth, and it was supposed to be taken off when I turn 20. My favorite color is blue and I haven't had a boyfriend. I play the piano and I used to dance ballet."
She paused and then continued, "I was recruited in MI-5 when I was fifteen, which is, I think, illegal. I went undercover at SD-1 when I was seventeen then was transferred to the joint operations of MI-5 and Interpol. When I was eighteen, I died, supposedly. I attended my own funeral and frightened half of the mourners."
"You attended your own funeral?" Sydney asked.
"Yeah. They identified my body in one of the car crashes. Mom told me that my DNA matched the person. But I was actually in a mission and I was caught. They mourned for three months until they finally decided to bury that person. Meanwhile, I escaped and I saw my interment in the newspaper. And when I went to the memorial park and was seen by the people who were crying their hearts out, they all ran away from me, except for mom, Aunt Katya and Sark."
Sydney gave a little laugh. "I think the Derevko women have a way of rising up from the dead."
"Okay your turn." Paris said.
"Okay. Uh… my name's Sydney Bristow. I don't have a second name. I graduated from UCLA, graduate studies. I didn't wear any corrective device for my eyes or teeth. My favorite color is green and I had my share of boyfriends. I also used to dance but I'm more into kickboxing. I was recruited at SD-6 when I was nineteen thinking that the CIA recruited me. I learned about the truth later on, seven years later. I went to the real CIA and became a double agent." She paused.
"I met and fell in love with Michael Vaughn but I died, supposedly, but apparently I'm still alive."
"You forgot to mention that you were the one who destroyed SD-6 and the Alliance of Twelve." Paris said and smiled at her.
-xxx-
Jack arrived at around 9.30 am. He went inside the living room and found Sydney, Vaughn and Paris playing scrabble. Irina, who was finished taking a shower (apparently…), was reading. He approached her.
"Can I talk to you outside?" he asked.
Irina looked away from what she was reading and lowered the book. She stood up and then followed him. Jack led her to the basketball court where he took the liberty of disabling the security cameras situated in that place.
"What did you know about mom when she turned herself in, in terms of romantic entanglements?" Paris asked when they were gone.
Vaughn and Sydney stared at her, a bit surprised with the audacity of the question. They looked at each other, not knowing how to answer Paris.
"It was reported that she and Khasinau were… lovers." Vaughn answered a few seconds later.
"Lovers?" Paris asked, making a gagging sound.
"It was also reported that your mother seemed to have favored, I'm sorry for the term, boy-toys." Vaughn asked. Paris looked at him, uncertain on how to react. Sydney thought that her sister would be disgusted with their mother.
She was wrong. Because Paris laughed.
It wasn't a panic-stricken laughter or sad laughter. It was more of amused and she was laughing so hard that tears were coming out of her eyes.
"What's so funny?" Vaughn asked.
"Lovers? You thought they were lovers?" she asked, still laughing. "And boy-toys… Oh god, you must be kidding me. She agreed to all that?"
"Well, yes… sort of." Vaughn answered. Peals of uproarious laughter responded him.
"What is it? Is there something about Khasinau that gives that claim absurd?" Vaughn asked again.
"Absurd? It's impossible! The late Alexander Khasinau's gay." Paris replied, wiping the tears in her eyes. "God… boy-toys. Crazy." The bruises around her stomach were aching but she didn't mind them.
"He's what?!" Sydney asked.
"He's gay. A bloody homosexual. Besides, Khasinau hires the people, not 'The Man'. Well Sark's an exception. But other than Sark, everybody under 'The Man', was employed by Khasinau. I mean when you didn't know that Irina Derevko was the big boss, were there any claims that 'The Man' has a lover? None."
"How did you know?" Sydney and Vaughn asked simultaneously.
"Well, at first I thought he was just exceptionally neat and vain about himself. But after I planted a bug in his apartment, I laughed my head off for days. He likes the color purple and he sings along with Cher and Madonna. I thought I became mentally disturbed when I saw him dancing, only in his purple underwear, in front of the mirror singing 'Like a Virgin'."
Vaughn and her sister just gaped at her, imagining Khasinau lip-synching to Madonna just in his purple underwear. Eeeew.
While hysterical laughter was in the living room, it is not so in the basketball court.
"Why did Sloane know before I did?" Jack asked Irina. He was trying to keep his voice in an equal level.
"Know what?" Irina asked, puzzled. She can discern the anger in his voice.
"Know about Paris?! Knew that she's my daughter?!" he said.
[A flashback]
London, England
"Thank you Jack, for coming. Emily was so delighted when I told her that you would be coming over for dinner. Please, come in." Arvin Sloane said to Jack as he took his coat from him.
They were in Britain. Emily has been staying in the country for almost six months.
"Not really a problem, Arvin. As you know, I had a business meeting." Jack replied. Business meeting, meaning an SD-6 related mission and of course, the CIA counter-mission. But no need to tell Sloane that.
"Yes, yes. Oh, Emily and I had an unexpected visitor. Her mother had an… emergency business meeting she needed to attend to, and can't take her daughter along. Come, I'll introduce you to her." Sloane said to him and led him to the living room.
A little girl was sitting on the rug, coloring her coloring books. There was a plate of cookies, which were untouched, and a glass of milk on the table. Her brown hair was in braids and she was wearing blue overalls over a white shirt.
"Hello Mikaela. I would like you to meet Mr. Bristow." Sloane said in a 'fatherly' voice. The girl stopped coloring and looked at Sloane and then to Jack.
"Hello." She timidly greeted and went back to what she was doing. Just then, Emily entered the living room.
"Arvin, there's a phone call for you in your office. The bank." She said upon entering.
"Yes, thank you." He told his wife as he kissed her in the cheeks. "I won't be long." He said to Jack and left.
"Jack, its so nice to see you again." Emily greeted as they hugged. "Have you met Mikaela?" she asked.
"Yes." He replied as he glanced at the little girl. She doesn't seem to tire of coloring the images in the book.
"Please, sit down." Emily said as she motioned Jack to a chair. "How is Sydney?" she asked.
"She's fine. She's turning fourteen this April and she wants a radio."
"The last time I saw her she was the spitting image of Laura." Emily said. Jack just nodded, but his thoughts were screaming, 'Oh, you mean Irina Derevko, KGB assassin?'
A few minutes of talking to him Emily suddenly exclaimed, "Oh, I forgot all about dinner. Please, excuse me, I think I left the pot roast in the oven."
She gave him an apologizing look and scurried to the kitchen. He was left alone with Mikaela. 'A name of Russian origin' he thought. The little girl was absorbed with her coloring books and was paying no attention to him. He sighed and waited for Sloane.
But Sloane was in his study too long and made Jack wonder if his secret was found out.
'What if they had found out that I'm a double agent for the CIA? What if they had intercepted my contact and got the real information? What if they got Sydney and are now planning to…?'
"Do you want some cookie?" a little voice asked, interrupting his thoughts. He looked up and saw Mikaela holding out her plate of cookies to him.
"Uhh… no. But thank you." Jack answered. He was taken aback by the resemblance of Mikaela to Sydney when they were this young. But her eyes…
The little girl nodded her head and went back to where she was sitting. Jack, intrigued, approached her and sat on the couch next to her.
"How old are you?" Jack asked, striking a friendly conversation.
"Six and three quarters. I'm turning seven this June." She replied, coloring Bugs Bunny gray. Jack nodded his head.
"That's a very nice picture. What's your favorite color?" Jack asked again.
"Blue."
"What grade are you in school?" he asked. The little girl looked at him.
"I'm being home-schooled but mommy said that I'll be going to regular school this September." She replied.
"Are you excited? To go to regular school?"
"Uh… Not really. The other children think I'm weird."
The child can sometimes give straightforward, no-nonsense answers.
"Do you know why?" Jack asked. She shook her head and looked at him intently. Jack looked back.
When Sloane went in the living room a few minutes later, he found his colleague engaged in a staring contest with his young visitor.
"Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes." Sloane announced.
[end of flash back]
Air was clogging up her throat. Her secrets are tumbling out of the can one by one.
"I had no choice…" she said quietly.
"No choice?!"
"He threatened that he will give her to the CIA and that I will never see her again. But before that he was going to hurt her! I'm not that stupid to gamble a young girl's life, especially my daughter, so that I can preserve a Rambaldi object that my family has for generations!"
"Or maybe you were just aligning yourself with him, leasing one of your daughters that are available to you, so that you can complete Rambaldi's work!" Jack hadn't realized that he had verbalized his thoughts. By the time he did, he felt his head reeling from the slap Irina gave him.
Tears were brimming in Irina's eyes but she refused to let them fall.
"How dare you…" she choked. "How dare you accuse me of letting my child fall into the hands of someone I despise, someone I want to destroy! You don't know what I've gone through to have Paris. And you may never will." Irina said, turning away from him.
"Paris grew up too fast. There were so many things that I have to do so that she will be safe and away from this kind of life. So don't criticize the way I've raised and protected her, because you weren't there! There were no help!"
"Then tell me. Tell me what you've gone through without my help. Tell me why you didn't tell us about Paris from the start, after we thought Sydney had died." Jack said
"I… I can't."
"Why not?!" Jack asked.
"Because you'll not understand!" Irina answered. "Look at how you are treating her. You ignore her, you don't talk to her. What makes you think that you will understand if I told you earlier?"
"Try me." Jack challenged as he grabbed Irina's wrist and whirled her around so that she will be facing him. His grip was a bit tighter than he intended. To Irina, it felt like her wrist is going to break.
"What are you hiding? I can see it in your eyes that you're hiding something." Jack said.
"I don't have anything to hide. Let go of my wrist, please."
"That's bullshit. You're hiding something from us. From your daughters. From the CIA. Secrets are going to be exposed, whether you like it or not. And its better if you reveal to us what you're hiding so that we can help you!!!"
"And you think you're the person who can help me? You see Jack, the problem with what you're saying is… No one can help!!!" Irina shouted. Jack's grip on her wrist tightened. It was getting painful.
The commotion outside lured Sydney, Vaughn and Paris to where Jack and Irina were.
"What's going on here?" Sydney asked as they went out. Jack and Irina looked at them; Jack let go of Irina's wrist immediately.
"Your mother and I are having… a conversation." Jack answered.
"Yes. A conversation." Irina agreed and turned around. She doesn't want the three of them, especially Sydney and Paris, to know that she had been crying.
No such luck in that department.
"Mom, are you okay? Have you been crying?" Sydney asked, rushing towards her, Paris a step behind Sydney. Jack looked away from them, feeling a bit guilty.
"Its nothing. I'm fine." Irina replied.
"Mom, really, you're not okay if you're crying." Paris said. Irina looked at her. She remembers being told exactly the same thing years ago.
"No, I'm fine. I just needed a good cry." Irina answered her. Sydney looked directly at Jack, as if asking, 'what did you do?' Paris, on the other hand, looked at her mother's wrist first before looking Irina straight in the eye. Her mother has a bruise.
"Come, let's put ice on that." She said to her mother and took Irina's hand. Sydney went with them. Jack and Vaughn were left in the basketball court, uncomfortable silence hanging in the air.
"Where's Agent Marlowe?" Jack asked Vaughn a few minutes after the three ladies left.
"He's not here, sir. He had a family emergency. I verified what he said back with Dixon. Agent Westfield's also not here." he answered. Jack nodded his head and left to go to the security section. Vaughn thought that Jack didn't want to be confronted by Sydney in the same room he confronted her mother.
There are still eight hours before Irina is to go back to her cell. Most probably eight hours of arguments, eight hours of confrontation. Vaughn went to the kitchen, thinking, 'Another exciting day in Michael Vaughn's life.'