Disclaimer: I don't own the Grisha Trilogy and its characters – it belongs to Leigh Bardugo. I do not own the Shadow & Bone TV series, which was developed by Eric Heisserer for Netflix and based on Leigh Bardugo's books. Recognisable lines from the 1998 version of The Parent Trap also don't belong to me.

I'll be you and you'll be me

The townhouse is quiet when Aleksander opens the front door.

It's strange, reminiscent of what it used to be like coming home from work before he met Alina. Silent and cold, no one waiting for him with a sunshine smile. He's become so used to finding the house filled with laughter or music or chatter that it's jarring to have none of it.

"Alinochka?" he calls out, wondering if she's gone out and forgotten to let him know, "solnyshka, are you here?"

She doesn't answer, but he finds her upstairs in the half-finished nursery, the room lit only by the sun and moon lamp they've got on one of the shelves. She's standing still, staring out of the window.

"Solnyshka," he frowns, "how long have you been up here. You should be sitting down."

She's eight months pregnant and tires so quickly these days. He knows it grates on her, having to slow down, but he wants her to stay healthy.

"Your mother came by today."

The words come out as a whisper and, as she turns to face him, Aleksander can see tears glistening on his wife's cheeks.

"Alinochka –"

"You told me you had no family except your sister. I'd like to assume that Ulla actually is a marine biologist and conservationist like you said, and that the reason I haven't met her yet really is that she's working in the middle of the ocean at the moment, but you can see why I might be sceptical."

"I never lied about Ulla, solnyshka, I swear."

"But you did about your mother. You told me she died years ago, Sasha."

"I …"

"She's very clearly not dead, Sasha. Unimpressed and critical of everything about me, but certainly very much alive."

"I'm sorry I lied to you, Alinochka. I just knew you'd ask to meet her – you're so friendly, solnyshka, and you always try and see the best in people. But my mother is a cold, bitter old woman and I didn't want to subject you to her cruelty."

She can't deny he's right about his mother's personality. Alina tries very hard to find the positives in life, but Baghra Morozova seems determined to make everyone around her as miserable as she is.

"You still should have told me, Sasha. At least then I wouldn't have been ambushed when she turned up out of the blue."

"Yes," he agrees, "yes, Alinochka, I should have told you. I just didn't want her negativity tainting our life the way it did my childhood. Please, will you forgive me?"

"Of course," she tells him without hesitation, because she loves him and he's obviously truly sorry, "but you can't do this again, Sasha. I don't expect either of us to tell the other everything, but we have to be honest about the important stuff."

"Yes, of course, solnyshka," he surges forward to kiss her, caressing her belly tenderly, "I promise."

They'll get past this, Alina thinks as Aleksander fusses over her and insists she sits down while he makes them dinner. After all, it's not a huge deal in the grand scheme of things.

Still, she can't help but worry. Their relationship has moved so quickly and she's starting to realise she might not know her husband as well as she thinks.

"So, this is papa, of course," Irina places the photograph down on their isolation lunch table.

Keyen studies the photograph – a far more recent picture than the one she has – carefully, trying to find the features in his face that match hers and Irina's. At first glance, he seems very stern, but she can see a hint of humour sparkling in his dark eyes and faint laugh lines on his face.

"What's his real name?" she asks Irina, struck by the fact that she doesn't even know that about her own papa.

"Aleksander, but Aunt Ulla and Uncle Vanya call him Sasha sometimes."

"And Aunt Ulla is papa's sister."

"Yes. Half-sister, technically. She and papa have different fathers and Ulla lived with hers as a child, but then she and papa found each other when Aunt Ulla was in university. Aunt Ulla is amazing! She taught me how to swim and she's a marine biologist and conservationist, which papa says means that learns about what lives in the sea and shouts a lot at big companies who pollute the oceans."

"Wow," Keyen stares wide-eyed at the photograph of Aunt Ulla standing on the deck of a boat decked out in full scuba gear.

"And this," Irina pulls out the final photo, "is Ivan – Uncle Vanya."

"He doesn't look like papa."

"He's not a real uncle," Irina explains, "but he's papa's best friend. He was in the military for a while but he returned home when I was a baby and now he works with papa."

"He looks a bit scary."

"Uncle Vanya doesn't like to smile, but he's a softie when you get to know him."

They switch then and Keyen hands Irina a recent photograph of their mama.

"She's so beautiful," Irina sighs, "with a really pretty smile."

Keyen nods, "Uncle Fedya says her smiles are like sunshine. But he tries not to say it in front of mama, because once she heard him and she went off to her room to cry for a while. Uncle Fedya said …"

"Said what?"

"He said someone mama loved very much used to call her solnyshka, which means sunshine."

"Do you … do you think it was papa?"

Keyen nods slowly, "she tries not to talk about papa, but when she does then she always gets sad, just the same way she did when she overheard Uncle Fedya."

Irina nods. All she's ever seen of mama is two photographs, but even just from that, she can tell that solnyshka is the perfect nickname for her. And she remembers papa saying once, after he and Uncle Ivan had had a lot of vodka on New Year's Eve, that Irina's smile is just like her mama's – he'd been teary then, in a way she's almost never seen him.

"And this is Fedyor – Uncle Fedya," Keyen passes Irina another photograph depicting a cheerful man with dark-brown hair, "he's mama's best friend and he lives with us and helps with the vineyard so mama has time to paint."

"There's an art studio in our house," Irina whispers, "papa won't let me go in there. The door is always locked."

Keyen's eyes widen, "do you think they lived there? Do you think we all did?"

Irina shrugs sadly, "maybe. I don't know. Papa has never said anything about the art studio except that I shouldn't go in there. I only know what it is because papa went in one evening when he thought I was asleep and I saw an easel and some covered paintings. He was crying then too."

Keyen lets out a little growl of frustration, "why did they break up? They seem to miss each other. They cry about it! So why wouldn't they just stay together?"

"I don't know," Irina shakes her head, "I just don't know."

Keyen and Irina study each photograph they've got carefully and asks each other a series of questions about every person's likes, dislikes, habits, hobbies and nicknames.

It's the little things that will sell this ruse. Papa's sweet tooth, Aunt Ulla's obsession with sea shanties, Uncle Vanya's secret love of knitting. Mama's tendency to curl up like a cat in a sunspot and promptly fall asleep no matter where it is, and Uncle Fedya's slightly scary knowledge of how to kill a person with everyday objects like paperclips ("not that he'd ever do it," Keyen insists, "well … unless he really, really had to").

They sketch out the layouts of their houses, practice Irina and Ivan's secret handshake until Keyen can do it blindfolded, and perfect each other's accents.

But as much as they can act like one another, they have to make sure that their appearances don't end their ruse.

Keyen, when she pretends to be Irina, can simply pretend she got a haircut and her ears pierced at camp.

Irina, on the other hand, needs a makeover.

"No!" she exclaims when Keyen brings it up, "absolutely not. An eleven-year-old cutting my hair was bad enough, but sticking a needle in my ear!"

Irina shudders. Just thinking about how unhygienic it would all be has her channeling Uncle Vanya and searching for her pocket hand sanitiser.

Keyen rolls her eyes, "don't be a baby. What was the point of any of this if you're going to fall at the last hurdle?"

"Urgh," Irina cringes, but she has to admit that her sister has a point.

She can't miss the opportunity to spend time with her mama, even if it does mean getting her ears pierced in a manner that would horrify both papa and Uncle Vanya.

"Fine," she grimaces, "just do it quickly, alright."

"It's going to be ok," Keyen promises, "I've done this loads of times for my friends."

Truthfully, she's only done it once, and she was more a helper to her friend's older sister. But Irina needs reassurance.

Five. Ice. Four. Put the needle in the flame. Three. Lemon. Two. Stop her hands shaking. One …

They both scream in unison.

"Right," Irina says as girls around them say enthusiastic goodbyes, "we need to find out how mama and papa met."

"And how they broke up," Keyen adds.

"And not get caught," Irina grins.

"Well, not until we're ready. You've got my phone number, right?"

"Yes, and you'll remember the time difference, won't you."

"Yeah, totally."

"Keyen!"

"It's Irina now, remember. And I'll remember, really."

A sigh and then a hug.

"I'm going to miss you," Irina whispers into Keyen's shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm going to miss you too. But we'll make them see. And then we'll be a proper family."

Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed it.

You can find me on Twitter under the username Keira_63. I pretty much just post mini prompt fics.