Shadows of the Past (Alias,S/S,Teen) Ch 1 19/10 DEAD&BURIED

[lyra]

Title: Shadows From The Past
Author: Lyra
Type: WIP
Rating: Teen
Pairing: Sarkney
Timeline: The story is set after 4x09: 'A Man of His Word'. But I'm changing several facts from the moment Sydney disappears in 'The Telling'. The main one is that Sark wasn't in custudy those two years, only a few months. We'll see about the rest.
Summary: Knowing the past and remembering it are two different things. Sydney's life is about to change and Sark is going to help her get through it.
A/N: This isn't beta'ed so I'm sorry if there are many mistakes. This is my first Alias story and I'm really unsure about the characters, any comment from you guys would be greatly appreciated.


Shadows From The Past

"I heard about your death."

Irina smiled, that mysterious smile of hers that never revealed if it was amused or pleased. Sark liked to think that when directed at him it was the latter. Her words gave him the reason.

"I knew you'd find me," she said simply.

Sark approached his former employer and sat on the bench beside her. The sun was barely out and the breeze blew the locks that had escaped her loosely tied hair. Irina's breathing was starting to calm down as she redid her ponytail. Sark had watched her while she jogged along the park before he'd made his presence known. It had certainly been a while since he'd seen Irina train. Her body was still that of a woman ten years younger, so similar to her daughter's.

"Do I still look good, Sark?" Irina asked coyly, an eyebrow risen in amusement.

Her voice startled him and Sark realized he'd been staring. "Always," he replied, brushing his lapse away with a smirk, knowing she didn't really mind.

"When did you get out?"

Sark turned, looking ahead. He could still feel the knife on his neck, her taste mixed with a coppery tang... "Recently," was all he said. "So, do I get the story?"

Irina rubbed her hand absently over her heart, losing herself in her memories.

"You knew this would happen. That I would never let you hurt her, Irina."

Irina froze mid-step. "Jack." The way Irina said his name had always been somewhere between mock and warning; a mother scolding her child; a teacher disappointed with her student. It always made him feel 'lacking'. "You know I love Sydney. I would never hurt her."

"Not even to save Nadia?" Jack asked, genuinely curious. He was past the hurt of her betrayal, 20 years past it. "Tell me, don't you love Nadia, too?"

Irina sighed indulgently. She knew this conversation had been a long time coming. "Of course I do. She's my child."

"Don't you want to save her then? You know, from her fate according to Rambaldi?" The contempt in his voice more than obvious, the name tasted like bile in his tongue.

"Do I need to, Jack?"

"You know as well as I do that Sydney would come out victor in that fight," Jack spat.

"Oh yes, you made sure of that, didn't you?" she taunted him.

They remained silent for a moment, wills clashing. The shadows surrounding them were the perfect background for them, an accurate reflection of their relationship, nothing more than a mirage, nothing was what it looked like.

"Is that why you've put a contract on her life?" Jack asked finally, the rage building inside of him. He couldn't understand how Irina's coldness could still affect him with every new low she reached.

"Would you believe me if I said it isn't?"

Jack contemplated her words for a whole minute. A paralyzing minute where their eyes locked and fought; where his mind ran over every little detail he knew about this woman; where Irina refused to let him read her intentions. In the end, that was what tipped the balance.

"No," his voice echoed the shot that killed his wife. Straight to the heart.

The only way he could be sure he'd broken her heart the way she'd broken his so long ago.

"It was the only way," Irina said softly, almost to herself.

"To disappear?" Sark asked, reminding her of his presence beside her.

Irina shook her head, shaking the memory away, then looked at him again. "You were always the only one who could read me," she mused, the smile back. Sark only smirked. "Yes, the only way they'd ever stop hunting me was if they killed me themselves." Irina's face took on a faraway look, her features sharpening and closing off. "There's trouble coming, Sark, and I need space to deal with it."

"Sydney," Sark muttered, the thought leaving his lips without his knowledge.

But Irina heard him. "Yes." The curt tone of her voice put an end to the topic.

Sark followed her lead, not missing a beat. They'd worked together for years. "So, exactly how did you manage to die and still be here now?"

Irina sized the man before her, her gauging eyes taking in his appearance. It really had been a long time since they'd worked side by side. Since the moment she'd turned herself in to the CIA, her and Sark had worked together and apart; sometimes towards the same goal, and sometimes not; they had helped and betrayed each other more than once. He had grown from under her wing, maybe not always a good idea but true none the less. And yet, Irina could see her pupil in him still. And their greatest disagreements had always been personal. This one had been the worst.

"I had an interesting meeting with Allison," she said finally.

Sark had taken her scrutiny as easily as she'd delivered it. He'd learned to deal with the chills and the nerves her look inspired. She could bring grown men to their knees with her piercing eyes. It had unnerved him at first, but not anymore. Her words, however, were a different matter.

"Allie? When?"

"While you were in CIA custody... The first time," she specified and this time Sark heard the reproach as clearly as if she'd spelled it for him. He frowned. It wasn't as if he'd wanted to get caught, again. Maybe it was the fact that it hadn't been her doing that landed him in custody this time what bothered her...

Irina was still talking. "You know I was working with Jack to locate Sydney. After Jack got arrested I stumbled upon some intel on Allison. Imagine my surprise when I discovered she'd survived three fatal wounds. I... Convinced her to share. You never know when you may need to 'not' die."

"Indeed," Sark managed to say, still shaken. Irina had always disapproved of his involvement with Allison.

"It's a shame she didn't use her second chance better," she added as an afterthought.

Sark didn't answer. It had been a blow to lose her again. But if he was honest with himself, it hadn't been as hard as the first time. And if he was totally honest, it might have been the fact that her death had meant he had less of a chance of getting out of that cell what had bothered him the most then. Apparently, even in 'that' Irina had been right.

He changed the topic. "So you've been out of the game all this time?" Irina gave him a blank look. "Guess not," he answered himself.

"Don't be stupid. I simply went back to the beginning," she said cryptically. "Why fix what's not broken?"

Sark's eyes narrowed speculatively. He cocked his head to the side. "There are three new strong names. One's a woman, which leaves you out. Walter Sorensen, Swedish, 58, caucasian male. Married with three children, CEO of Pfizer's smaller partner. And finally, one Isoroku Yoshida, the mysterious head of a Japanese clan no one has really seen." Sark appeared to consider the options carefully, then he smirked. "Tell me, does Mr. Sorensen know he's the face of the most beautiful and brilliant mastermind in the spy world?"

Irina couldn't help the genuine chuckle. She had missed him. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Sark," she said, the chiding completely overruled by her lingering smile.

Sark's smirk deepened if that was possible. "I beg to differ."

Irina shook her head indulgently. She checked her watch and stood, straightening her clothes. Sark followed her example. Irina started for the exit of the park, a look over her shoulder the only invitation Sark needed to follow her.

"So, what do you want me to do?" Sark asked when he caught up with her.

"What makes you think I want anything from you?" she retaliated.

"Because I found you," he said simply, as if that alone explained everything. It did, pretty much. Irina knew how to disappear without a trace, and no matter how good he was, Sark knew he wouldn't have found her if she hadn't wanted to be found. At least not with the relative ease he had.

Irina worded her thoughts carefully. "I need you to do the only thing you don't want me to ask."

His face became a blank mask. Calm, serene... Nothing but his eyes betrayed what he was thinking. 'No.' The word echoed in his mind but he couldn't make himself say it aloud.

The temperature seemed to have dropped immensely with her words. The sudden ice in his eyes chilled Irina to the core. Few men could do that. Only two, really. And it was only because of how much they both meant to her. Irina would have given anything to be able to avoid this situation but, much as it pained her, she couldn't. Sark was the only one she could ask.

Finally, he seemed to find his voice. "I can't," he said, his voice as cold as his eyes, but small at the same time. "I can't do that, Irina."

They had reached his car now and he went to open the door, his mind on auto-pilot.

Irina let him. She hadn't really expected to get his agreement on the first try. Not on this.

Sark put the key on the ignition and turned to glance at Irina, standing by his door.

"I can't protect Sydney," he said softly before driving off.

Irina stared after him, already planning her next move.

TBC