"Somehow," Sydney said, "I expected this to be a lot more dramatic."
"Drama is for amateurs, dear," Elena advised, expertly ridding the syringe she was prepping of air bubbles. "With drama you are always in danger of missing a clue, or being inattentive long enough to get shot." She injected the clear liquid into a vein located in the crook of Lauren's arm.
"She was already completely knocked out, Aunt Elena," Sydney said pointedly. "Was the extra shot entirely necessary?"
Elena shrugged. "Safeguard. It won't be enough to kill her, trust me." She grinned sardonically. "She's made of tougher stuff than that, obviously."
Sydney looked pained. "Unfortunately." She half turned in her seat to face Weiss, who smiled grimly. "Regret knocking on my door last night, don't you?"
He shot a covert look at Katya, who was driving fast enough to warrant the use of helmets and reinforced seatbelts. "Uhh… never, Syd."
She didn't quite believe him.
"Eric, what are your policies on child rearing?" Elena asked innocently, keeping her eyes on Lauren as she checked the rope around her wrists and ankles.
Weiss looked confused. "I really haven't given it that much thought. Why, if I could ask?"
"I like you," she replied seriously. "I think Jack and Irina do, too. What a fine son-in-law you would make."
Sydney dropped the tube of lip-gloss she was holding. "Aunt Lena!"
"In our defense, child," Katya said dryly, taking a corner fiercely, "we're only trying to do what's best for the family. That's what we've been doing all along."
Elena was doubtful. "Katya, this isn't just family revenge."
"Of course not," she snapped back. "This is a game; it's what we do best. But if a game and the family's best interest coincide, then that's a lovely thing, isn't it? Of course it is," she answered herself forcefully.
Weiss leaned across his seat in order to whisper to Sydney. "I thought they were trying to match-make you with Vaughn."
"So did I," she muttered back. "I'm not pleased with them, no matter what direction they go in. Is it so much to ask to run my own life, deal with my own ex-boyfriends?"
"Yes!" Katya replied, much to Sydney's dismay. "You belong to us, and as the older generation we run things."
"No one ever said this family was a democracy, dear," Elena informed her warmly, and patted her hand.
"So what is it?" Sydney asked.
"An empire." She smiled mischievously, and whispered the next in Sydney's ear. "And I'm the ruling empress."
"No, you're not!" Katya sneered. "Our family is based in anarchy. We don't have one true leader."
"But I'm the one who keeps you and Rushka from tearing each other apart," Elena replied mildly. "I should get some respect for that."
"And you do," Katya told her, affronted, and slammed to a screeching stop outside of a warehouse. "We just don't think you should have the crown."
"Rushka would look the best in it," Elena conceded, "she's always had that queenly air."
"She'd probably fling it against the wall within the hour," Katya snarked. "You know how she feels about head-gear."
"True." Elena hefted Lauren's unconscious body out of the van with Sydney and Weiss' help. "Thank you."
Irina looked up from her seat at a small table as they staggered in. She dropped the file she had been skimming on the table and stood. "Lovely, our guest has finally arrived." She clasped a protective hand over her still hot mug of tea, glancing briefly at Katya. "Jack, we're about ready," she called.
He walked down a set of stairs that ended next to the main door, and handed his wife a compact cell phone. "The reception here is terrible," he complained, and she nodded sympathetically.
Katya and Elena made quick work of settling Lauren in a reclining chair (Sydney had sudden flashbacks of her unfortunate dental experience so many years ago), and affixed her wrists and ankles to special bars they had installed for just that purpose. Katya, it turned out, had a hidden flair for construction.
They stepped back and surveyed their work, and Elena clapped her hands briefly, pleased.
"We'll just wait for her to regain consciousness, and then we can begin," she decided, and took a seat next to Irina at the table. "Where did you get your tea, Rushka?"
Irina gestured to the small hallway. "Down the hall, to the right."
Katya eyed her tea. Irina glared at her.
"Elena," she added, "get Katya a cup of tea, as well." She pulled the mug closer to her body territorially, eyes narrowed. "Let her make you some tea, Katya," she gritted out between her teeth.
Katya considered her little sister, and nodded slowly. "Okay…" she replied. "Elena, let me come with you…"
They left, leaving Irina decidedly victorious.
Weiss leaned against the wall, wondering what he had gotten himself into. Sydney claimed Elena's abandoned seat, and propped her chin on her hands.
"I don't think you've completely considered the backlash your actions will create," she commented. "We just kill her, and you expect us to get away with it?"
"Of course not," Irina replied, and sipped her tea. "The plan has changed… slightly."
"In what way?"
"You don't need to know yet," her mother said, and opened the file. "You'll know when you need to know."
"It's situations like this that keep getting me in trouble," Sydney muttered. "I can't see how this will end well."
"Everything in its own time," Irina replied enigmatically. "You sound like you need some tea, dear. Go and get a cup from your aunts."
Sydney tapped a finger against her chin, thoughtful. In a quick move, her hand darted out and grabbed Irina's cup. She leaned back and sipped, silently daring her mother to do anything.
If it had been Katya, Irina would have leapt across the table and tackled her. But as it was her daughter… alternative measures would have to be taken. Jack covertly removed the file from between them and took a few steps away, interested to see how this would play out.
In the end, Irina decided on the direct method, and simply held out her hand demandingly.
Sydney blinked at the look in her mother's eyes, and shrewdly decided to return the mug.
The level of tension receded in the room, and both Weiss and Jack sighed, relieved.
Katya reentered, bearing two cups. She placed one in front of Sydney, and looked curiously between her niece and sister. "Did something happen?"
Irina sipped her tea, glowering. "Sydney seems to have inherited your tea-stealing tendencies, in some odd twist of fate." She glared piercingly at her daughter, who was wise enough to shrink against the back of her chair sheepishly. "And she will never do it again, right?"
Sydney nodded meekly. "Yes, mom."
"Good."
Katya patted Sydney's shoulder. "It was good to attempt it, though," she informed her niece wisely. "I'm proud of you."
Before Irina could properly reply to whatever her sister was insinuating, Lauren woke.
Elena, who had entered in time to catch the last exchange, raised a brow. "Amazing. She should properly be out for another hour, at least."
Lauren sputtered something unintelligible. Katya left her mug on the table and stalked over to the chair.
"Where do your loyalties lie?" she queried menacingly. Lauren spat in her face.
Weiss winced. Lauren had no idea how big of a mistake she had just made.
Katya pulled back slightly and dabbed at her cheek delicately with a lace-trimmed handkerchief she had pulled out of her pocket. Sydney shot her mother a look of surprise. Irina shrugged.
"Her trademark quirk," she whispered to her daughter. "Well, professionally, anyway." She looked sourly at her tea, and Sydney avoided her eyes. She would never pull that trick again, obviously.
"Ms. Reed," Katya said dryly, "I would highly encourage cooperation. My family has never been one for patience under duress, or in any instance. Now, where do your loyalties lie?"
Lauren scowled. "With the NSA. With Michael Vaughn. With… with Sydney Bristow."
Sydney realized she must not be readily in view (and that Lauren was obviously as blind to family resemblance as she herself had once been). She pulled back quietly, resisting the urge to fling the tea and cup at Lauren's head.
"Sydney Bristow?" Katya asked in mock surprise, winking quickly at Sydney. "You're loyal to both your husband and his ex? You must be a paragon of patience and understanding." Her almost pleasant demeanor rapidly cycled back to impatient. "Unfortunately, Bristow and I have complicated ties," she said curtly, making it sound as if she and Sydney had a long history of engaging in blazing shoot-outs. "Your loyalty to her is… most displeasing."
A gleaming, sharp knife replaced the handkerchief.
"Talk, Ms. Reed. We know more than you could ever imagine."
Sydney settled back in her chair, hands wrapped around her mug. This was turning out to be most interesting.
And very entertaining.