A/N: This is the very essence of a quick update. I am so sorry it's so short. But don't worry, more Spy-fam reunion is coming up, and some nice J/I moments Oh an amussing note, I turned in this fanfic as my free-verse poem for creative writing. It's not my fault that the teacher went on and on about how sometimes prose can be poetry and poetry can be prose, and how poetry is subjective... Anyway, I formatted all 52 pages like a poem and smacked that beast on her desk when I went to turn it in. I wonder if she'll read the whole thing?
Jo Murray nee Rowling, had a bright sunlight kitchen in her home about an hour's drive from London. She had spent hours looking through design books, and House and Home magazines looking for the perfect kitchen. She had felt a thrill of triumph when she had infromed the architect that money was no problem. Top of the range appliances in shiny stainless steel, and beautiful black marbal counters filled the kitchen. Her husband Neil, was something of a cook, and pots and pans of varrying sizes and degrees of oddity hung from the ceiling.
Her refrigerator was hung with her own children's drawings, and drawings that young fans had sent her. Baby David's ten month picture, and Jessie's school picture were hung in prominate places. Sara had taken a polaroid of all four sisters together, and that picture was now hung up on the refrigerator as well.
On the way from the train station back to the house, Jo had stopped at the Grocers and bought ingredients for sandwiches. Fresh bread, cold cut meats, cheese, lettuce, butter. Sara, who had been riding with her, had added crisps and sweets to the list. Jo had indulged her niece and bought those things, and they had surprised Sydney (who had been left at home) with a cake in her honor to have after lunch. It was a chocolate sheet cake with blue icing that read "Welcome home!" in big letters.
Sara was sitting at Jo's kitchen table staring at her bottle of coke and spinning the cap around in circles with her index finger. Jo and Katya stood at the counter making sandwiches as Lena hacked at a loaf of bread with a knife. Sydney was sitting at the table across from Sara, and Irina was pacing. The six Derevko women were silent.
"Who wanted ham?" Katya asked holding out a plate with a ham sandwich and baby carrots.
"I did," Sara and Sydney said in unison.
"Here, Sydney, eat up," katay said setting the plate down in front of her niece.
"Have some crisps too, love.," Jo added passing Sydney a bag of Walkers Cheese and Onion flavored crisps.
"What about me?" Sara asked indingantly, crossing her arms acros her chest.
"You weren't kidnapped and missing for a month. Stop complaining, we're making your sandwich now." Katya admonished her daughter and she added ham to two uneven slices of bread.
Watching Lena struggled to cut another slice of bread, Jo commented, "I thought you were suppose to be good with knives."
Irina stopped pacing and leaned back against the refrigerator. "She is. Bread is softer than human flesh."
Jo blanched.
Shooting her sister a dark look, Lena put the knife down on the cutting board. "Unlike some people in this room, I have never killed anyone, or used a knife as a weapon meant to harm someone. I may know how to use one, but that doesn't mean I have."
"Here's your sandwich, Sara." Katya handed Sara her sandwich over Sydney's head. Sara greedily fell upon her sandwich and finished half in two large bites.
Sydney watched her cousin eat with a morbid fascination. "You'll make yourself sick if you eat it that fast." Sydney bit into a baby carrot. Sara shrugged and contiued to eat.
Lena joined them at the table with her own sandwich.
Down the hall, there was the sound of the front door opening. All six fell silent--make that all five, Sara was happily crunching through a mouthful of crisps and hadn't heard the door open. Irina pulled out her gun and inched along the wall and peered down the hall. There was Jack, inching his way along the wall, his own gun raised.
"Hello, Jack" Irina said in the calmest voice she could manage. No need to scare him into shooting.
Jack turned to the sound of her voice. The black dye in his hair had started to run in the unseasonably warm summer air, and he had a trail of black running down the back of his neck. He was still wearing the kilt.
Damn, thought Irina, He looks sexy in that kilt. I wonder if he's wearing it the traditional way? Bad thoughts, Irina, bad thoughts. Your daughter is in the room. You will not make sweet love to her father until she is far, far away. Wait a minute, did I just say 'sweet love'? I'm going crazy.
"Irina. Is Sydney here?" Jack was walking down the hall with long assured strides towards his wife.
Before Irina could open her mouth, Sydney bounded out from behind her. "Daddy!" she cried and threw herself into her father's arms.
Irina was miffed. Sydney had given her a hug once they'd left the Bakery, and while it had been a tight, long hug with many tears, it was not the same joyous hug that Jack was reciving. Irina had gotten the Thank-God-I'm-Alive-And-Someone-I-Know-Found-Me hug, while Jack was getting the Oh-My-God-Dad!-I-Am-So-Glad-To-See-You-Again! hug. And Sydney had called Jack, "Daddy." The last time Irina had been called; "Mommy" was when Sydney was six.
Jack was holding his daughter tightly in his arms, his eyes were moist, and he looked like a man trying very hard not to sob. Sydney was saying, "Daddy, I've found you. I was so scared Daddy, I thought I was going to die. Daddy, they made me watch my own funeral. Daddy, I've missed you so much!"
Sydney hadn't said any of that to Irina. Irina had gotten a "Good to see you, Mom." Which was better than nothing, Sydney could be calling her 'Derevko'. For goodness sake, I'm her mother and she doesn't care about me
Stepping back from his daughter, Jack ran his hand down her cheek and smiled. "It's good to see you too, Syd. I love you, sweetheart."
Sydney beamed back up at her father. She took his hand and pulled him towards the kitchen, "Come on Daddy, Aunt Katya and Aunt Jo and Aunt Lena are making sandwiches."
Lena pipped up, "Don't call me 'Aunt' Lena, Sydney, it makes me feel old."
Sydney grinned, "And heaven forbid that a 23 year old would feel old."
Pulling her father behind her, Sydney led the way back to the kitchen. As Jack passed Irina he took her hand and gave it a slight squeeze. "Missed you." He said.
"Missed you too," Irina whispered back, and allowed Jack to take her into the kitchen, ignoring the looks Katya and Jo gave each other.
It figured that the two of them would be in cahoots.
Jo Murray nee Rowling, had a bright sunlight kitchen in her home about an hour's drive from London. She had spent hours looking through design books, and House and Home magazines looking for the perfect kitchen. She had felt a thrill of triumph when she had infromed the architect that money was no problem. Top of the range appliances in shiny stainless steel, and beautiful black marbal counters filled the kitchen. Her husband Neil, was something of a cook, and pots and pans of varrying sizes and degrees of oddity hung from the ceiling.
Her refrigerator was hung with her own children's drawings, and drawings that young fans had sent her. Baby David's ten month picture, and Jessie's school picture were hung in prominate places. Sara had taken a polaroid of all four sisters together, and that picture was now hung up on the refrigerator as well.
On the way from the train station back to the house, Jo had stopped at the Grocers and bought ingredients for sandwiches. Fresh bread, cold cut meats, cheese, lettuce, butter. Sara, who had been riding with her, had added crisps and sweets to the list. Jo had indulged her niece and bought those things, and they had surprised Sydney (who had been left at home) with a cake in her honor to have after lunch. It was a chocolate sheet cake with blue icing that read "Welcome home!" in big letters.
Sara was sitting at Jo's kitchen table staring at her bottle of coke and spinning the cap around in circles with her index finger. Jo and Katya stood at the counter making sandwiches as Lena hacked at a loaf of bread with a knife. Sydney was sitting at the table across from Sara, and Irina was pacing. The six Derevko women were silent.
"Who wanted ham?" Katya asked holding out a plate with a ham sandwich and baby carrots.
"I did," Sara and Sydney said in unison.
"Here, Sydney, eat up," katay said setting the plate down in front of her niece.
"Have some crisps too, love.," Jo added passing Sydney a bag of Walkers Cheese and Onion flavored crisps.
"What about me?" Sara asked indingantly, crossing her arms acros her chest.
"You weren't kidnapped and missing for a month. Stop complaining, we're making your sandwich now." Katya admonished her daughter and she added ham to two uneven slices of bread.
Watching Lena struggled to cut another slice of bread, Jo commented, "I thought you were suppose to be good with knives."
Irina stopped pacing and leaned back against the refrigerator. "She is. Bread is softer than human flesh."
Jo blanched.
Shooting her sister a dark look, Lena put the knife down on the cutting board. "Unlike some people in this room, I have never killed anyone, or used a knife as a weapon meant to harm someone. I may know how to use one, but that doesn't mean I have."
"Here's your sandwich, Sara." Katya handed Sara her sandwich over Sydney's head. Sara greedily fell upon her sandwich and finished half in two large bites.
Sydney watched her cousin eat with a morbid fascination. "You'll make yourself sick if you eat it that fast." Sydney bit into a baby carrot. Sara shrugged and contiued to eat.
Lena joined them at the table with her own sandwich.
Down the hall, there was the sound of the front door opening. All six fell silent--make that all five, Sara was happily crunching through a mouthful of crisps and hadn't heard the door open. Irina pulled out her gun and inched along the wall and peered down the hall. There was Jack, inching his way along the wall, his own gun raised.
"Hello, Jack" Irina said in the calmest voice she could manage. No need to scare him into shooting.
Jack turned to the sound of her voice. The black dye in his hair had started to run in the unseasonably warm summer air, and he had a trail of black running down the back of his neck. He was still wearing the kilt.
Damn, thought Irina, He looks sexy in that kilt. I wonder if he's wearing it the traditional way? Bad thoughts, Irina, bad thoughts. Your daughter is in the room. You will not make sweet love to her father until she is far, far away. Wait a minute, did I just say 'sweet love'? I'm going crazy.
"Irina. Is Sydney here?" Jack was walking down the hall with long assured strides towards his wife.
Before Irina could open her mouth, Sydney bounded out from behind her. "Daddy!" she cried and threw herself into her father's arms.
Irina was miffed. Sydney had given her a hug once they'd left the Bakery, and while it had been a tight, long hug with many tears, it was not the same joyous hug that Jack was reciving. Irina had gotten the Thank-God-I'm-Alive-And-Someone-I-Know-Found-Me hug, while Jack was getting the Oh-My-God-Dad!-I-Am-So-Glad-To-See-You-Again! hug. And Sydney had called Jack, "Daddy." The last time Irina had been called; "Mommy" was when Sydney was six.
Jack was holding his daughter tightly in his arms, his eyes were moist, and he looked like a man trying very hard not to sob. Sydney was saying, "Daddy, I've found you. I was so scared Daddy, I thought I was going to die. Daddy, they made me watch my own funeral. Daddy, I've missed you so much!"
Sydney hadn't said any of that to Irina. Irina had gotten a "Good to see you, Mom." Which was better than nothing, Sydney could be calling her 'Derevko'. For goodness sake, I'm her mother and she doesn't care about me
Stepping back from his daughter, Jack ran his hand down her cheek and smiled. "It's good to see you too, Syd. I love you, sweetheart."
Sydney beamed back up at her father. She took his hand and pulled him towards the kitchen, "Come on Daddy, Aunt Katya and Aunt Jo and Aunt Lena are making sandwiches."
Lena pipped up, "Don't call me 'Aunt' Lena, Sydney, it makes me feel old."
Sydney grinned, "And heaven forbid that a 23 year old would feel old."
Pulling her father behind her, Sydney led the way back to the kitchen. As Jack passed Irina he took her hand and gave it a slight squeeze. "Missed you." He said.
"Missed you too," Irina whispered back, and allowed Jack to take her into the kitchen, ignoring the looks Katya and Jo gave each other.
It figured that the two of them would be in cahoots.