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Disclaimer: The title of this chapter comes from the song 'Hands of Time' by Groove Armada

Can't Turn Back The Hands of Time, Seems To Me History Was Left Behind

Sydney's eyes started to adjust and she just stared into the cold, soulless eyes of Arvin Sloane, with her suppressed feelings of betrayal and rage resurfacing. Here, right in front of her, was the man who had lied to her, dragged her into a world of terrorism and deceit, and made the chance of ever having a seemingly normal life impossible.

"Hmmm," a smug smile crossed Sloane's face. "After everything that we have been through, I thought that you would have been a little more talkative."

Sydney felt sick. How dare he use the term 'we'. They were two entirely separate entities. The criminal and the woman who wanted to see him burn- both figuratively and literally.

"Well, since you are not going to be polite," Sloane turned to Vaughn. "Mr Vaughn, I assume."

If Vaughn was surprised that Sloane knew his identity, he did not let it show. A steely expression remained on his face. "What do you want?"

Sloane let out a cruel laugh. "I want people to stay out of my business. But you and Sydney couldn't do that, could you? You just had to pry."

Sydney eyes Sloane, drawing in a deep breath. "Where is she?" Her voice remained steady, but inside she was trembling.

Sloane blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Where is she?"

"I'm afraid that I don't know who you are referring to," Sloane replied lightly. "Perhaps you should give me a name."

"Don't give me that crap!" Sydney spat. "Where is she?"

"She's—" Sloane cut off as another figure stepped through the door.

"I am right here."

"Will!" Francie let out exasperatedly. "Would you please stop being such a drama queen and tell me that the hell is going on." Will looked at her and Francie gave him a pointed look. "Well?"

He'd shown up on her doorstep a few minutes ago, going on and on about how he had some massive news. But so far, all he had done was pace her living room, resembling some poor tortured soul and quite frankly, Francie wished that he would start spilling his guts or just go.

"Ok, ok," Will plonked himself down on Francie's couch. "It's got to do with Syd." He stopped, rubbing his chin and Francie suddenly got a sinking feeling in her stomach.

"Will, what have you done?"

"Um, weeks ago I might have got a contact of mine to run a background check on Michael."

"You did what?" Francie exploded. "Are you an idiot? Do you have any idea what Sydney would do to you if she found out?"

"She already knows," Will replied meekly.

Francie blinked. "So why are you not in a body cast?"

"Francie, can we get past my initial act of stupidity and get to the important stuff."

"What important stuff?" Francie's face suddenly fell. "Oh god, what did you find out?"

"At first nothing, he was clean," Will replied. "But then Marty said that there was something odd about it. That it had been doctored to cover up who he really was."

"Cover up?" Francie repeated slowly.

"Yes," Will nodded vehemently. "So he did a little digging around and you know what he found?"

"What?"

"He works for the Government," Will answered, his face dead serious. "And not for some bureau. He's deep in."

Francie stared at him for a few seconds before letting out a snort of laughter. "Deep in?" she sniggered. "What, like he's some government trained assassin. Come off it, Will." She had almost doubled over, she was laughing so hard.

"Francie—"

"Do you think I could speak to him about getting that parking ticket of mine eradicated? Would his 'governmental' position give him the power to do that?" She wiped the tears from her eyes. "Thanks for this, Will. You've made my day."

"Francie, I am totally serious here." Something in his tone caused her laughter to die down slightly.

"You are?" she asked, still dubious.

"I am," he affirmed, reaching into his bag and pulling out a manila folder. "Here," he handed it to her. "That is everything that Marty found. Now, do you believe me when I say that there is something not right about Michael?"

Silently, Francie thumbed through the pages, her laughter completely ceased. Closing the folder, she looked up at Will.

"This is still pretty vague. There is nothing concrete."

"I know that."

Something suddenly occurred to Francie. "If Michael doesn't work at that arms control place, then how did he get her a job there? Oh god, what has he pulled her into?"

Will shrugged. "Fran, you know just about as much as me at this point."

Francie handed the folder back to him. "We have to tell her," she said quietly. "You do realize that, don't you?"

Will nodded, looking a little sickened at the thought. "Unfortunately, I do."

As Sydney stared into her mother's eyes, the only thought running through her mind was 'They're mine'. It was completely unnerving. Sydney had spent months convincing herself that she was nothing like Irina Derevko, and when it came to the person inside that was the honest truth. But outside, their physical appearances, there was no way either of them could deny being mother and daughter.

A slow smile formed on Irina's face. "Hello Sydney." She glanced at Vaughn and something- recognition, maybe- flickered in her eyes, but she did not address him.

"I was just telling the two of them how disappointed we are that they couldn't mind their own business," Sloane said, sounding as if he were speaking to a primary school class. "It's such a shame really,"he continued. "You just had to go to the server farm, didn't you? When you went after Rifque it was such a relief, wasn't it Irina?" He turned to her and she nodded. "You were so off track, but somehow you found yourself back on the path."

Sydney's ears pricked. "How do you know about Rifque?"

Irina looked at Sloane. "Should we tell them?"

"Why not," Sloane stared at Sydney, his eyes as cold and hard as ice. "I am sure that you are well acquainted with a certain photograph. It would have been what started you in this search in the first place."

'You released that picture?" Vaughn queried. "Of you and…her." He almost spat out that last word, unable to bring himself to utter Irina's name.

"Yes, and when the CIA uploaded it, it gave us an entryway to its computer system," Sloane said, his tone tinged with pride. "Granted, it was not an unlimited access, but it was enough for us to monitor your movements, to make sure that you were not getting too close."

"Well, that worked really well, didn't it?" Sydney couldn't help putting in, her words dripping with sarcasm. "The whole not wanting us to get close thing."

Irina's eyes narrowed slightly. "I would suggest a little more respect."

The seething anger that had been bubbling under Sydney's surface boiled over. "Or what? I'm grounded?"

Irina stared at her for a few seconds, but did not reply to the statement. Instead, she just turned to Sloane. "We should go. Return when they are more willing to listen."

Sloane nodded and the two of them exited the cell and locked the door once again. Washed in darkness, Sydney turned to the direction of Vaughn.

"Vaughn."

"I'm right here, Syd." She heard him shuffle across the ground, and then felt his body next to hers. "I'm right here."

And she was never more grateful for that.

"Weiss!" Dixon hurried towards his desk. "We've got them."

Weiss stood abruptly. "Where?"

"The server revealed a facility of Sloane's in La Ciotat. It makes sense that they would take Syd and Vaughn there. There is a team in Francie, monitoring the facility as we speak. We'll be meeting with them in-country."

Weiss nodded. "When do we leave?"

"Wheels up in thirty minutes."

Time passed at an achingly slow rate and even though both of them were exhausted, neither Sydney nor Vaughn could sleep.

"How long do you think we've been here?" Sydney asked, her head resting on Vaughn's shoulder.

"I don't know," he replied, wishing that he could wrap her in his arms. However, the handcuffs around his wrists were preventing him from doing that.

Sydney let out a sigh. "Everybody was right."

"Right about what?"

"That my obsession to find my mother would end badly." Sydney replied. "Look where we have ended up."

"Things aren't over yet, Syd." Vaughn said reassuringly. "We are going to get out of this."

"And how do you figure that out?"

"Because, given Sloane and Derevko's reaction, that server was a real weak spot. The CIA is going to find us and they will get us out of here."

"Right, ok then." Vaughn could hear the smile in Sydney's voice.

"And do you know what the first thing I'm going do is?"

"What?"

"I am going to take you to dinner in Paris."

Sydney let out a small laugh. "Paris?"

"Yeah, I've got to give you a good first impression."

"Vaughn, I hate to break it to you, but your first impression is well and truly gone."

"Damn," he muttered jokingly. "What was it you said? That I had a stick up my—"

"Oh god," Sydney cut him off. "I cannot believe I said that."

"Don't feel too bad. I also called you a defiant child."

"So what then? Do we call it even?"

Vaughn did not get a chance to reply. The moment was interrupted by the door opened, followed by Irina's slender form stepping into the cell.

In the second that it took for Sydney to straighten up, Irina was able to observe the scene before her. The two of them, Sydney and Bill Vaughn's son, were a lot more than just two agents in the field. To be honest, she had a little trouble comprehending that. Of all the people in the world, her daughter had chosen him.

"Sydney," she said quietly. "I thought that we could have a little chat. You too, Mr Vaughn."

A look of surprise crossed Vaughn's face at the sound of his name and Irina gave him a small smile.

"Yes, I do know who you are." Irina paused. "You look just like him."

Sydney could feel Vaughn stiffen beside her and so she moved slightly, pressing into his side. It was only think she could think to do to comfort him in the situation.

"I wish that you could have just left this alone," Irina continued. "It would have saved you both a lot of trouble."

Sydney didn't reply. She couldn't bring herself to voice any words.

Irina cocked her head to one side. "I could have prevented all this, of course. You were so small when you were born. It would have been so easy…" she trailed off as the mobile in her pocket started to ring. Flipping it open, she brought it to her ear. "Hello…they're what?" She frowned. "West exit. I'll meet you there. Don't worry. I'll take care of them." Irina flipped the phone shut and turned to Sydney and Vaughn with narrowed eyes. "What did you do?" she hissed.

Sydney felt a surge of hope. The CIA- they must have arrived. Nothing less would have resulted in a reaction like that from Irina.

With a quick glance at Vaughn, Sydney eyeballed her mother, a taunting smile forming on her lips. "Well, I guess your access to the CIA's computer system failed to pick up the copy of the server we transmitted on site. Now, is that what we would call getting too close?"

Irina glowered as she reached around her back and pulled out a pistol. She aimed, moving from Sydney to Vaughn. "Who first? Tell me, Mr Vaughn. Would you like to watch my daughter die, or shall she watch you perish?"

Sydney looked at Irina with contempt. "Why the hesitation, mum?" she asked, her final word dripping with antipathy. "Quit with the games and just pull the trigger."

Irina shrugged. "As you wish," she said as she cocked the gun.

A/N: One more chapter to go...