Operation Family Reunion

[filleinconnue]

Yeah, I know, some of you may have read this on that other Alias site I used to frequent. I never finished this, but I figured, why not post it here too since reading it always brings a smile to my face.
I hope you enjoy my lame attempt at humor! Oh, and of course feedback always brings a little sunshine to my day. Plus, it might even motivate me to finish it!

So the premise is: The Bristow family is having a reunion. The guests: Jack, Irina (keep in mind they are still married after all), Syd, Sark (who is now Syd’s boyfriend…yay!), Will (cause he can’t contact any members of his own family, poor guy), and Sophie (Sark and Syd’s daughter…yes out of wedlock, no moralizing please!) Plus there might be a party crasher…Okay so there’s the story, totally unbelievable I know…but have fun with it!

Operation Family Reunion

Sydney took another quick glance in the side-view mirror of her car to check her hair and make-up. Sark watched her from the corner of his eye.
“You really do not have to do that Sydney. You always look beautiful.”
Sydney turned and smiled at her boyfriend. “Thank you, but you know how nervous I get when I know I’m going to see them.”
“Mommy I think you look beautiful too.”
Sydney reached back and squeezed her daughter’s knee. “Thank you Sophie.”
“Daddy, do you think mami Irina brought me a gift?”
Sark snorted. Sydney shot him a warning look.
“What’s wrong?” Sophie asked from the backseat.
“Nothing Sophie,” Sydney answered. “You remember what to do with anything your mami Irina or your papi Jack give you right?”
“Give it to daddy or you for analysis then I can play with it in 10-14 days when the results come back,” Sophie repeated word for word what Sark had taught her.
“Very good love,” Sark answered.
“Well here we are,” Sydney sighed, glancing one more time in the mirror as they pulled up the driveway.

Sydney was relieved to see Will open the door to the beach house her father had rented for the weekend.
“Uncle Will!” Sophie yelled, running into his arms.
“Hey, there’s my favorite girl! Well,” he added looking at Sydney, “my second favorite girl. Hi Syd,” he said as he gently let Sophie down. “You look amazing, as always.”
“Thanks Will. How have you been?”
“Not bad. I’m still teaching journalism at the local college. It’s not my dream job but at least I get to spend my days surrounded by eager college girls.”
“You always did have a thing for younger women. Remember the cheerleader?”
“Wow,” he said looking down at his watch, “less than two minutes and you’re already teasing me. I have no idea why I come to these things,” he joked.
“Neither do I,” Sark added, demonstrably annoyed by Will and Sydney’s ignoring him.
“Mr. Sark,” Will coldly greeted his former abductor.
“Mr. Tippin,” Sark answered meeting Will’s icy glare.
“Well,” Sydney started, “I hate to break up this uncomfortable moment but we really should not all be standing out in plain sight like this.”
“You are right Sydney. Shall we?” Sark asked offering her his arm. She readily accepted it and they walked passed Will into the house. Sark managed to flash Will a smirk as he passed him.
Sophie had already run into the house, on a search for her grandparents and any possible presents that might be awaiting her.
“Are they both here already?” Sydney asked Will.
“Yes, they got here before I did. I found them, uh, ‘talking’ upstairs in the bedroom when I arrived.”
“Oh god, so we’re back to that again,” Sydney said with a slight shudder. Every year when they got together like this she never knew whether or not she would find her parents sharing disdainful glares or long kisses. Either way she found it to be rather disturbing.
“I suppose it is better than the alternative,” she reasoned. “We won’t have to hide the cutlery this year.”
“I don’t know about that Syd,” Will said glancing at Sark.
Sydney ignored Will’s comment and left the two men behind to search for her parents.
“I assure you there is no need to hide the cutlery Mr. Tippin.”
“Oh no? Because you’re a ‘retired’ assassin slash terrorist now?”
“No,” Sark said as he leaned in closer to Will, “because I do not require a knife to kill you, I can make do with a fork.”
“Daddy!”
Sark looked down to see Sophie pulling on his suit jacket, which gave Will a chance to distance himself from Sark.
“What is it Sophie?” Sark asked switching instantaneously into his kind, fatherly tone.
“Mami Irina gave me this book. It’s in Russian. I told her you and mommy were teaching me Russian so she says I’m ready for some real works of literature now.”
“Yes, well I think you better let me keep that for you.”
Sophie reluctantly handed over the book and ran over to Will.
“You want to play hide and seek with me Will?”
“Sure thing kiddo. You go and hide and I’ll count,” Will instructed the young girl.
Sark smiled to himself. Hide and seek was one of Sophie and his favorite games. He knew that there was no possibility Will would ever find Sophie unless she wanted to be found.
“Have fun Mr. Tippin. Oh,” he added, “and watch out for the traps”
“Traps?”
“Yes, I taught my daughter always to set traps for people who are tracking her. There is no need to worry though, I think Sydney took away the C4 she was hiding in her backpack.”
“C4, yeah, right,” Will replied while Sark went off to find Sydney. Then he paused for a minute to consider the possibility. “Uh, Sophie?” he yelled.

Sark found Syd in the kitchen dipping her finger into the cake icing.
“I see you found what you were looking for,” Sark said as he wrapped his arms around his wife’s waist.
“Hey, I really was looking for my parents, but then this icing just started calling to me. You want some?” she asked holding up her finger to Sark’s mouth.
He carefully slid Sydney’s finger into his mouth, slowly licking off every bit of icing. Then he released her finger and moved in for a kiss. As Sydney kissed him passionately she could taste the icing on his lips.
“Mmm,” she whispered as she broke away from the kiss, “butterscotch.” Sark smiled and leaned in for another kiss but stopped when he notice Sydney’s cheeks redden with embarrassment.
“Hi dad,” she said looking past Sark.
“Hello Sydney,” Jack replied uncomfortably.
Sark turned around to find Sydney’s father standing in the kitchen doorway. He was dressed casually, which for some reason made Sark feel even more uncomfortable. Sark was glad he had decided to wear a suit.
“Mr. Bristow, hello sir,” he greeted Sydney’s father, holding out his hand. To Sark’s relief Jack actually shook it.
“Sark. You look well.”
Was that a compliment? Jack had been warming up to him over the past couple of years but today he seemed even more amiable than usual.
“Thank you sir, as do you.”
Jack would never admit as much to Sydney, but he was relieved his daughter had chosen to be with Sark instead of Michael Vaughn. Sure Sark was a cold-blooded assassin who could not be trusted. And so what if nobody, not even Sydney, was privy to his first name. At least he was not a CIA automaton with a perpetually wrinkled forehead. Jack respected Sark, and he knew that Sark was the only man, besides himself, who could keep Sydney safe.
“Have you seen mom?” Sydney asked her father mischievously.
Jack shifted uncomfortably. “Yes,” he finally answered. “I think she is with Sophie now. She is growing up so quickly Sydney. She is an amazing girl. She reminds me of you when you were her age.”
Sydney smiled and walked over to her father. “She misses you dad. I miss you too.”
Jack stared at his teary-eyed daughter and took her into his arms. Ever since Sydney’s disappearance, he had learned that there was nothing shameful in showing affection to his loved ones.
“Sophie looks just like you Sydney,” Jack said backing away from the hug.
“You think so? I think she looks more like mom than me.”
“Speaking of,” Sark interrupted. “Irina gave Sophie another gift.”
“What is it this time?” Sydney asked, hoping that for once it would just be a gift.
“A book, in Russian.”
“You’re kidding right?”
Sark shook his head ‘no’ in response.
“Great, so you know what that means. We’re the ones who are going to have to spend hours making sure there aren’t any encoded messages in it. Just like the book she gave Sophie two Christmas’ ago.”
“Maybe it’s just a book,” Will suggested as he walked into the kitchen.
Sydney, Sark, and Jack all turned and looked at him skeptically.
“Right, so I’m going to keep looking for Sophie,” he answered as he turned around to walk away. After he had gone, Sydney, Jack, and Sark heard Will ask from the hallway, “Irina have you seen Sophie? No, okay. Yeah, everyone’s in the kitchen.”

 

[filleinconnue]

Irina walked through the swinging door to the kitchen with her signature confidence that always drew everyone’s attention. She gave Jack a half smile before walking over to hug her daughter.
“Sydney, oh you look wonderful,” she said as she tucked a strand of Sydney’s hair behind her ear. “How are you?”
“Great mom. You?”
“Wonderful. You know, your Sophie is becoming a remarkable young lady; very beautiful, very intelligent. And her Russian and French are coming along quite nicely as well.”
“You tested her linguistic abilities?” Sydney asked, raising her voice.
“Of course not,” Irina answered flatly. “We were simply talking and Sophie wanted to show me what her parents have been teaching her. I really do see a lot of you in her Sydney. And you,” she said turning to face Sark. “Sophie truly has many of her father’s qualities.”
“Thank you Irina. You are looking well.”
“That’s very kind of you to say Sark. I trust you’ve been taking good care of my daughter and granddaughter.”
“Of course,” Sark answered.
Irina shot him a look that only the two of them understood. It was her ‘if-anything-ever-happens-to-my-daughter-or-granddaughter-I-am-holding-you- responsible’ look.
Sark looked over to see Sydney pouring her father a drink. He took this opportunity to catch up with Irina.
“How is your work progressing?” he quietly asked her.
“Fine, but” she leaned in, “tu me manques. Je ne trouverai jamais quelqu’un aussi doué que toi.” (I miss you. I will never find someone as talented as you.)
“Irina, je ne peux plus travailler pour vous. J’ai promis à Sydney…” (Irina, I can’t work for you anymore. I promised Sydney…)
“Oui, je sais, mais je peux toujours rêver,” Irina finished with a smile before walking away. (Yes I know, but I can always dream.)
Will who had walked in during their conversation was looking quizzically at Sark.
“What did she just say?”
Sark seemed annoyed that Will was addressing him. “She asked me if I wanted her to poison your soup.”
Will glared back at him, although Will’s glare was hardly intimidating. Sark was used to the patented ‘Bristow’ glare.
“You do really think I am so gullible that I can’t tell when you’re lying? I was a reporter, remember? I can tell when people are lying. I am actually a very intelligent man.”
Sark was deliberating whether he should first attack Will’s self-description of being ‘intelligent’ or a ‘man.’ Instead he just smiled and replied,
“Have you found Sophie yet?”
Will looked down in embarrassment and then stomped off.
“What did you say to him?” Sydney asked, walking up to Sark.
“Nothing. I just asked him how his game with Sophie was progressing. That man is intolerable Sydney. I cannot comprehend why the two of you were ever such good friends.”
“Will is wonderful guy, the best friend I could ever ask for. Maybe you could back off a bit. I mean, you did abduct and torture the guy.”
“Fine, I promise to make an effort to be nice to the drug addict.”
“Just like you promised not to talk about work with my mother?”
Sydney had overheard them. He had expected as much.
“I am sorry about that, I could not help myself. But, as I am sure you heard since you were eavesdropping, I turned down her offer of employment.”
“And you want a reward for that?”
Sark smiled in response. “That depends on what you had in mind.”
Sydney reached out and caressed his face. As she started to let her hand slide down to his chest she suddenly remembered that her parents were standing just a few feet away.
She turned around to flash them an awkward smile. “Is it time for dinner?” she asked. Her mother turned to her cook who nodded yes.
“Shall we move into the dining room?” Irina offered. Jack responded by placing his hand gently on his wife’s back and leading her towards the dining room. Sydney and Sark followed behind.
“Where are Will and Sophie?” Sydney asked.
Sark imagined Will running around the house trying in vain to find his cunning daughter.
“Darling, go help Will find Sophie.”
Sark answered her with an exaggerated pout. He would hate to be the one to put an end to Will’s futile searching.
“You know,” Sydney whispered in his ear, “if you promise to be nice to Will for the rest of the day we can do that thing you like so much when we get home.”
“Perhaps I should assist Mr. Tippin in finding our daughter.”
Sydney gave herself a mental pat on the back as Sark quickly went to look for Will and their daughter.

Sark found Will looking underneath a bed upstairs. Typical.
“Would you like some assistance, Mr. Tippin?” Sark asked politely.
Will jumped up from the floor, obviously startled. He looked at Sark suspiciously; he was being way too nice to him. He wanted to tell Sark that he could find Sophie without his help, but he had already given up any hope of finding her.
“Sure, thanks,” he finally answered.
Sark surveyed the room, looking for any signs that would indicate his daughter’s presence.
“She’s not in this room,” Will started, “I’ve checked everywhere.”
Sark noticed that there was a small area on the desk in the bedroom that had been cleared off. He looked above the desk to see a ceiling tile slightly askew. He reached up to touch the low ceiling, pushing the loose tile up. A high-pitched giggle emanated from above.
“Sophie everyone is waiting for you downstairs.”
The ceiling tile moved to one side and Sophie looked down at her father.
“You always find me!” she answered.
“Come on,” Sark told her as he reached up and pulled his daughter down from the dusty ceiling. That was the only thing he could not seem to teach Sophie, do not hide in filthy places when there are just as many clean places available. Sophie had no appreciation for her expensive wardrobe, just like her mother, he thought.
“Are you coming Will?” Sophie asked, still resting comfortably in her father’s arms.
“Yeah,” was all Will could manage to say. The whole scene that had unfolded before him was extremely unsettling. What in any other case would be a loving family moment was disturbing as the role of the caring father was being played by a ruthless assassin who had almost killed him once.

Dinner seemed to be unfolding without too many problems. Sophie, who was sitting to the left of Jack, continuously talked to him about the books she had been reading. She was glad to have such a passive listener, and he was glad that he was not forced to have an awkward conversation with the person to his right, Irina.
Irina occasionally spoke to both Sark, who sat next to her, and Sydney who was next to Sark. Every so often she would smile at Will from across the table. She was actually making an effort to put him at ease; unfortunately he misinterpreted her considerate looks. Each time Irina smiled at him, Will was reminded of Sark’s ‘poison your soup’ comment, and consequently began sniffing and inspecting his food.
Sark, who was acutely aware of what was going on, could not help but smirk at Will’s eating habits. Sydney eventually noticed Will’s odd behavior too.
“Will what’s wrong? You’ve hardly touched your food, are you not feeling well?”
Sark held back a laugh as Will looked alternately at Sark and Irina.
“Uh, no it’s just, uh, I had a big lunch,” he answered nervously.
Sark took a large bite of his ratatouille. “You really should try the vegetable dish, Mr. Tippin. It is excellent. Irina, I believe you said you the cook used your own special recipe.”
“Yes, it is a secret I picked up while I was living” a.k.a. hiding out, she said to herself, “in the south of France. Come now Will,” Irina said addressing the man across the table from her, “I added my own special ingredient myself. You must have some.”
Will shifted uncomfortably in his seat and became aware of the excessive perspiration accumulating on his brow.
“Excuse me, I’m uh, I’m not feeling well, I’ll, I’ll just…”
Sydney, Sark, and Irina watched as Will stumbled away from the table and down the hall to the bathroom.
“Well that was odd,” Irina remarked.
“Daddy, what’s so funny?” Sophie asked from the other end of the table.
Sydney turned to see Sark looking extraordinarily amused.
“Yes, why don’t you tell us what you find so amusing?” she asked him.
“Sophie I was just thinking about that time when you climbed the neighbor’s tree and…”
“Oh yes! That’s a funny story dad. Here I’ll tell you about it papi Jack,” she said turning back to her now demonstrably fatigued grandfather.
Sydney then turned to Sark and gave him her ‘someone-is-going-to-be-sleeping-on-the-futon’ glare.
“Perhaps I should check on Mr. Tippin,” he offered.
“Yes perhaps you should,” Sydney shot back at him.

 

[Alias Fan Gillian]

That was really good.

 

[aka32]

“Nothing Sophie,” Sydney answered. “You remember what to do with anything your mami Irina or your papi Jack give you right?”
“Give it to daddy or you for analysis then I can play with it in 10-14 days when the results come back,” Sophie repeated word for word what Sark had taught her.
“Very good love,” Sark answered.

hilarious ^_^

 

[happybirthday2me]

Very good ......lol

 

[Alias=applepie_and_icecream]

I just found this fic and it's hilarious!! are you gonna post any more? plz pm me if you do.

 

[YoungStarsOwner]

ahh this is great!!! please PM me when you update
E

 

[sydney565]

This was great! I love it!

 

[filleinconnue]

Sark knocked on the bathroom door; no response.
“Mr. Tippin?” he asked. Still no response. Sark wanted to return to the dining room and finish his dinner, but then he thought about what Sydney had promised him if he would be nice to Will.
“Mr. Tippin if you do not open this door I will open it for you.”
Another silence was followed by the sound of the doorknob turning and the door squeaking open. Will had stopped sweating but still appeared to be anxious.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
“Well you see every year Jack and Irina get together with Sydney and since Sydney and I…”
“You really do enjoy hearing the sound of your own voice, don’t you?”
Sydney, Sark thought, you’re doing this for Sydney. Sydney in that sexy little lingerie you like so much. Definitely worth it. “I apologize.”
“Excuse me?”
“I am expressing my regret for anything I may have done to upset you today. Please accept my sincere apology.”
“How much of that wine did you drink?”
Sark forced his lips together to avoid saying something he would later regret.
“I know Sydney must have asked you to be nice to me,” Will continued. “What did she offer you in exchange for apologizing to me?”
Sark rubbed his thumb across his lips, trying not to laugh, and gave Will a smirk.
“Forget it,” Will said, holding up his hand in protest, “I don’t want to know.”
“Are you feeling well enough to rejoin the others?”
“So Irina can feed me some of her famous crème brûlé with caramelized arsenic?”
Sark noticed that Will was becoming more agitated again; beads of sweat were beginning to form across his brow. It reminded him of Will’s first reaction when he captured him at gunpoint. He found himself feeling somewhat guilty for what he had done, and was still doing, to Sydney’s friend.
“I guarantee that no one will be poisoning you or harming you in any way. You do know that neither Irina nor I would ever attempt to cause you physical injury. I love Sydney too much to hurt a good friend of hers. And I sincerely doubt that Irina has ever given you a second thought.”
Will wished that Sark had not decided to be nice to him. Now he felt guilty for not being nicer to the man Sydney loves.
“Hey man, it’s okay. We’re never going to be friends, on account of the abduction and torture, but I’m willing to be civil to you for Syd’s sake,” Will finished as he reached out his hand.
Sark stared at his hand before finally shaking it.
“I agree with you Mr. Tippin.”
“Call me Will.”
“Fine, Will.”
“So what’s your first name?”
Sark released his grip on Will’s hand and did not try to stifle his laugh. “We’re not that close Will.”