Notes: Thank you to all those who have read this, to Susan and Jen who betaed this last chaptes, all my other betas, and to all those who helped in any way.
~
It had been effortless, well not effortless, but easier than she anticipated. Manipulating people was like second nature to her, and she had done so magnificently, considering those involved. There were the extra bones of taking care of two problems as once. Each incident she had set up went perfectly. They had acted just as she expected. If only all her problems could be solved by kidnappings, the mock stealing computer disks, and a jealous older brother that would make people spill all. Well, those helped, but it was really the lust that did them in.
Nothing, she thought, could make this evening more beautiful than it was. The warm sea breeze was refreshing to her, and she liked the way the last remnants of sunlight played over the room. They even made his hair seem more golden.
His 26th birthday was fast approaching. The sunlight showed a face that had aged since she had last seen it, almost three years prior. His infamous youthful looks were slipping away to be replaced by those of a man Sark already had become. She felt pride, yet her disappointment in him could not be forgotten. She was content though. In the end, he had fulfilled her plan.
His hazed over eyes opened; the effects of the drug, that his own lover poisoned him with, were still on him. He was confused, though she was sure Sark knew where he was.
"Welcome home Aidan," she said in her calm, cold manner, one that rivaled his own.
"Irina." His voice was not so calm. Clearly, he was shaken. His heart, she envisioned, must have been beating rapidly at the very sight of her, and she took pleasure in it. His attempt to sit up failed. He was too weak and totally at her mercy. "Sydney?" There was worry and hurt in his eyes. Even now, after her betrayal, his concern was about her.
"I sent her away… to feel useful. Besides, I believe it is best we talk alone."
"What do you want with me?"
"Foolish. You're much smarter than that, Aidan. It has little to do with you." She could tell he disliked her using his name repeatedly. Sark had never liked it. That name, he believed, was his mother's and his mother's alone to call him.
"How-" He rethought his question and continued, "What have you done to her?"
"Nothing I couldn't do to you." Irina paused, allowing the truth of it to sink in. "You would be amazed how simple it was to convince Sydney she was doing the correct thing. You, Sloane, and that CIA of hers—you all did the work for me. Thank you."
"Nothing is that easy. Torture?"Sark may have sounded composed to anyone else, but she had trained him and could see right through to the anger and pain held in that word.
"I suppose you could call it that," she said, narrowing her eyes upon him. "Life beat her down so much already, I'm sure others would call it a blessing, but once again, thank you."
Drug-weary or not, his temper was surfacing as it did when he felt used and manipulated.
Irina preferred to get this all out of the way so he could understand how things were going to be. "And now to the other questions you really wanted to ask. How could've you missed it? What Sydney became. How did you end up here?"
"I don't need to be told," Sark snapped in aggravation. "I comprehend it completely."
"Then enlighten me."
"I misjudged Sydney's motives. I took for granted her loyalties and assumed she was still with the CIA. I recognized her unusual conduct after the kidnapping, but I never identified what may have caused it."
If Irina closed her eyes, she could imagine he was 15 again and this was one of their lessons. Scolding him, just as she was now, for his mistake and making him recite it back to her in detail so such an error would not be made again. This would not be concluded till he was fully embarrassed over his behavior. "Go on."
"I'm not a child any more Irina."
"I don't think you have much choice in this matter, or many others to come."
His expression bordered on a pout, but he would not allow himself to do so openly. He sat silent for a few moments but she knew it would come. "You know full well what occurred. Having me inform you does nothing." Or maybe she didn't?
"This is not the start I expected Aidan, yet somehow it is befitting of you. Where was this side of you with her? You both should be ashamed. Weaknesses are to be hidden, not screamed out to the world on the top of your lungs. It was bound to end up with one or both of you killed."
Irina had kept a close watch on Syd's life especially after her escape from the CIA. It did not take much to see what Sydney's sacrifices and honorable behavior would result in. The CIA's and SD-6's constant demands on her time had done more than wear her down—it had alienated her from all the ones she loved. She felt abandoned in her self-pity.
Francie, the roommate, tired of her constant absences could not figure out why Sydney did not pursue the teaching career she worked so hard for. Francie had come to view her as a workaholic, putting her career ahead of everything else, just like her father had. The work, the secrets and the lies had all stopped being an excuse and had become a divide between them.
Will, the friend dragged into her lies, had felt the need to escape the pressure of the CIA and therefore Syd, over time, too. He did not want to be the CIA's slave, the way Syd was. A new career, a loving wife, and the chance at a normal life had become to appealing to resist.
Good old Jack with his life focused on one thing, his career. As he had seen Sark pushing Sloane's attention away from himself, Jack had seen his usefulness as a double wane. He had remained for Sydney, but she had not seen that. All she had seen was a distance that had grown between them once again.
Vaughn had turned out to be effective to Irina's plans but not as much as she had hoped. He was a straight arrow that Syd merely dented but could not break. They never could fully understand one another. He would never grasp the inescapable trap Syd was in and she would never fully appreciate his common yearning for a life away from the spy world.
Her letting Sark into her life was the final element needed to corrupt Sydney, Irina thought with satisfaction. She had become aware of her daughter's fixation on Sark long before Sydney even did. It was his returned affection that had surprised Irina. She was convinced it was some flaw his mother had instilled in him, which resulted in his current state. He had been well trained to use other people's emotions against them, while hiding, almost killing, his own. Irina did not demand he to be totally with out feeling, but it was to be sensibly covered up in others presence. This is something he had failed at entirely when with Sydney. Regardless, she was proud of him. As proud as she was watching him rise in the ranks of her own organization and witnessing him effortlessly take down once powerful leader like Ivankoff. He was a natural, who would be of good use to her again.
"Sydney has come to see things my way. She will continue to work for me and in time take my place. You must be on your best behavior."
"Wouldn't killing me be easier?"
She smiled a motherly, disarming smile, causing his pupils to dilate in horror.
"I will if you make me." Irina sighed and touched his arm. "But wouldn't you rather live you life with Sydney? And then there is that expensive lifestyle you enjoy so much. I know you would prefer that."
"There is always a catch Irina."
"Yes. I'll make it easy on you. Immediately, you will work for me again, under supervision of course, and when I ensure you have reached the appropriate decision, you will begin regaining power."
"Because of Sydney," Sark sneered. "You actually believe I will do this?"
Irina returned his leer with her own amused smirk. "I know you will."
"Simply because of my desire for her?"
"It is more than that, Aidan."
His eyes flickered with realization before going cold. Sark may have thought he was fighting it, just as Syd had, but he was tempted. Love or desire, as he termed it, was such a powerful emotion. He was thinking it all over; weighting pros and cons. It all depended on whether he could shallow his pride yet again.
Softly she added, "You're both tired and need rest. It's best to give in. Whatever you sought, is gone now. You have much more ahead of you. Even your brother recognized that."
"This is what you did to her, didn't you." He shook his head as to answer his own question and proceeded, "No, not even weeks of persuasion would lead her down this path."
"She entered this path long ago. She just needed to realize it. And you will as well, far easier I assume, because your motives have always been corrupt."
Sark exhaled in frustration, running his hand over his face, evidently overwhelmed for once. "Then you don't know me as well as you claim."
"I know you better than your own mother does. She understood what she sent you to, but she would never envision you a remorseless killer, experiencing no true pain at murdering others."
He was unable to bear any more truth, particularly concerning himself.
Irina waited, hands in her lap, listening to the fluttering of the curtains at the window and the faint sound of the sea hitting the shore.
Shadows filled the room, when he gave in and quietly spoke at last, "Your right of course." His voice was tight and bitter. "That is why it is hard for me to accept that she would do this because of me." He looked down, attempting to hide the tears his blue eyes shed.
Irina had only seen him cry once as a boy, the day they had met. She had come into his room, this room they now sat in, and had found the pouting, tear-streaked child sitting on the bed. He had gazed up at her, as to ask why; why was he here? What did the boy really beg to know? Why had his mother deserted him, and what did these tears now ask? Strangely enough, they asked why Sydney had not just left him. Part of her lure for him, was she was the light to his dark. She may have strayed over to his side at times, but she never lingered long. It would be no different with him, Sark believed. Leaving him, to go back to the honest life she led. He had been incapable of comprehending that darkness he was so much a part of, engulfing her too. Besides, Sark hadn't wanted to understand. He would have had to blame himself.
"You were part of it, but not the only cause," she comforted him. Though this all was to her benefit, she was not heartless as to not see his suffering.
He nodded, acknowledging this was correct and therefore admitting his role in it all. Irina patted his arm and smiled. No matter what happened, Irina felt she would treat him like her own.
The light was now gone from the room but neither bothered to remedy the situation. They remained in a silence, which revealed more than any words could. It was an acceptance of his fate and of Sydney's.
The door opened, causing a pool of light to form on the wooden floor. A maid stepped in, bringing a tray of food for him to eat. Sark appeared to not care and shifted his attention back to Irina. That was, until Sydney walked through the door. As the maid finished setting his tray to the side, Irina followed her out the door. She took one glance back before closing it all but a crack. She would intrude a moment longer.
Their arms wrapped possessively around each other as they shared a tender kiss. Just as Irina had planned. Apart from their open admittance of devotion, nothing had changed. They were making it all so easy for her to control them.
"You're not angry with me, are you?"
"Not at all," Sark confirmed what Irina knew was true. He had never sounded so content. Even in the moonlit darkness, Irina knew his eyes were shinning.
"We can have a real life now, and I truly love you."
She waited and then came his soft reply, "And truly, I love you."
The End
Please let me know what you think one way or the other.
~
It had been effortless, well not effortless, but easier than she anticipated. Manipulating people was like second nature to her, and she had done so magnificently, considering those involved. There were the extra bones of taking care of two problems as once. Each incident she had set up went perfectly. They had acted just as she expected. If only all her problems could be solved by kidnappings, the mock stealing computer disks, and a jealous older brother that would make people spill all. Well, those helped, but it was really the lust that did them in.
Nothing, she thought, could make this evening more beautiful than it was. The warm sea breeze was refreshing to her, and she liked the way the last remnants of sunlight played over the room. They even made his hair seem more golden.
His 26th birthday was fast approaching. The sunlight showed a face that had aged since she had last seen it, almost three years prior. His infamous youthful looks were slipping away to be replaced by those of a man Sark already had become. She felt pride, yet her disappointment in him could not be forgotten. She was content though. In the end, he had fulfilled her plan.
His hazed over eyes opened; the effects of the drug, that his own lover poisoned him with, were still on him. He was confused, though she was sure Sark knew where he was.
"Welcome home Aidan," she said in her calm, cold manner, one that rivaled his own.
"Irina." His voice was not so calm. Clearly, he was shaken. His heart, she envisioned, must have been beating rapidly at the very sight of her, and she took pleasure in it. His attempt to sit up failed. He was too weak and totally at her mercy. "Sydney?" There was worry and hurt in his eyes. Even now, after her betrayal, his concern was about her.
"I sent her away… to feel useful. Besides, I believe it is best we talk alone."
"What do you want with me?"
"Foolish. You're much smarter than that, Aidan. It has little to do with you." She could tell he disliked her using his name repeatedly. Sark had never liked it. That name, he believed, was his mother's and his mother's alone to call him.
"How-" He rethought his question and continued, "What have you done to her?"
"Nothing I couldn't do to you." Irina paused, allowing the truth of it to sink in. "You would be amazed how simple it was to convince Sydney she was doing the correct thing. You, Sloane, and that CIA of hers—you all did the work for me. Thank you."
"Nothing is that easy. Torture?"Sark may have sounded composed to anyone else, but she had trained him and could see right through to the anger and pain held in that word.
"I suppose you could call it that," she said, narrowing her eyes upon him. "Life beat her down so much already, I'm sure others would call it a blessing, but once again, thank you."
Drug-weary or not, his temper was surfacing as it did when he felt used and manipulated.
Irina preferred to get this all out of the way so he could understand how things were going to be. "And now to the other questions you really wanted to ask. How could've you missed it? What Sydney became. How did you end up here?"
"I don't need to be told," Sark snapped in aggravation. "I comprehend it completely."
"Then enlighten me."
"I misjudged Sydney's motives. I took for granted her loyalties and assumed she was still with the CIA. I recognized her unusual conduct after the kidnapping, but I never identified what may have caused it."
If Irina closed her eyes, she could imagine he was 15 again and this was one of their lessons. Scolding him, just as she was now, for his mistake and making him recite it back to her in detail so such an error would not be made again. This would not be concluded till he was fully embarrassed over his behavior. "Go on."
"I'm not a child any more Irina."
"I don't think you have much choice in this matter, or many others to come."
His expression bordered on a pout, but he would not allow himself to do so openly. He sat silent for a few moments but she knew it would come. "You know full well what occurred. Having me inform you does nothing." Or maybe she didn't?
"This is not the start I expected Aidan, yet somehow it is befitting of you. Where was this side of you with her? You both should be ashamed. Weaknesses are to be hidden, not screamed out to the world on the top of your lungs. It was bound to end up with one or both of you killed."
Irina had kept a close watch on Syd's life especially after her escape from the CIA. It did not take much to see what Sydney's sacrifices and honorable behavior would result in. The CIA's and SD-6's constant demands on her time had done more than wear her down—it had alienated her from all the ones she loved. She felt abandoned in her self-pity.
Francie, the roommate, tired of her constant absences could not figure out why Sydney did not pursue the teaching career she worked so hard for. Francie had come to view her as a workaholic, putting her career ahead of everything else, just like her father had. The work, the secrets and the lies had all stopped being an excuse and had become a divide between them.
Will, the friend dragged into her lies, had felt the need to escape the pressure of the CIA and therefore Syd, over time, too. He did not want to be the CIA's slave, the way Syd was. A new career, a loving wife, and the chance at a normal life had become to appealing to resist.
Good old Jack with his life focused on one thing, his career. As he had seen Sark pushing Sloane's attention away from himself, Jack had seen his usefulness as a double wane. He had remained for Sydney, but she had not seen that. All she had seen was a distance that had grown between them once again.
Vaughn had turned out to be effective to Irina's plans but not as much as she had hoped. He was a straight arrow that Syd merely dented but could not break. They never could fully understand one another. He would never grasp the inescapable trap Syd was in and she would never fully appreciate his common yearning for a life away from the spy world.
Her letting Sark into her life was the final element needed to corrupt Sydney, Irina thought with satisfaction. She had become aware of her daughter's fixation on Sark long before Sydney even did. It was his returned affection that had surprised Irina. She was convinced it was some flaw his mother had instilled in him, which resulted in his current state. He had been well trained to use other people's emotions against them, while hiding, almost killing, his own. Irina did not demand he to be totally with out feeling, but it was to be sensibly covered up in others presence. This is something he had failed at entirely when with Sydney. Regardless, she was proud of him. As proud as she was watching him rise in the ranks of her own organization and witnessing him effortlessly take down once powerful leader like Ivankoff. He was a natural, who would be of good use to her again.
"Sydney has come to see things my way. She will continue to work for me and in time take my place. You must be on your best behavior."
"Wouldn't killing me be easier?"
She smiled a motherly, disarming smile, causing his pupils to dilate in horror.
"I will if you make me." Irina sighed and touched his arm. "But wouldn't you rather live you life with Sydney? And then there is that expensive lifestyle you enjoy so much. I know you would prefer that."
"There is always a catch Irina."
"Yes. I'll make it easy on you. Immediately, you will work for me again, under supervision of course, and when I ensure you have reached the appropriate decision, you will begin regaining power."
"Because of Sydney," Sark sneered. "You actually believe I will do this?"
Irina returned his leer with her own amused smirk. "I know you will."
"Simply because of my desire for her?"
"It is more than that, Aidan."
His eyes flickered with realization before going cold. Sark may have thought he was fighting it, just as Syd had, but he was tempted. Love or desire, as he termed it, was such a powerful emotion. He was thinking it all over; weighting pros and cons. It all depended on whether he could shallow his pride yet again.
Softly she added, "You're both tired and need rest. It's best to give in. Whatever you sought, is gone now. You have much more ahead of you. Even your brother recognized that."
"This is what you did to her, didn't you." He shook his head as to answer his own question and proceeded, "No, not even weeks of persuasion would lead her down this path."
"She entered this path long ago. She just needed to realize it. And you will as well, far easier I assume, because your motives have always been corrupt."
Sark exhaled in frustration, running his hand over his face, evidently overwhelmed for once. "Then you don't know me as well as you claim."
"I know you better than your own mother does. She understood what she sent you to, but she would never envision you a remorseless killer, experiencing no true pain at murdering others."
He was unable to bear any more truth, particularly concerning himself.
Irina waited, hands in her lap, listening to the fluttering of the curtains at the window and the faint sound of the sea hitting the shore.
Shadows filled the room, when he gave in and quietly spoke at last, "Your right of course." His voice was tight and bitter. "That is why it is hard for me to accept that she would do this because of me." He looked down, attempting to hide the tears his blue eyes shed.
Irina had only seen him cry once as a boy, the day they had met. She had come into his room, this room they now sat in, and had found the pouting, tear-streaked child sitting on the bed. He had gazed up at her, as to ask why; why was he here? What did the boy really beg to know? Why had his mother deserted him, and what did these tears now ask? Strangely enough, they asked why Sydney had not just left him. Part of her lure for him, was she was the light to his dark. She may have strayed over to his side at times, but she never lingered long. It would be no different with him, Sark believed. Leaving him, to go back to the honest life she led. He had been incapable of comprehending that darkness he was so much a part of, engulfing her too. Besides, Sark hadn't wanted to understand. He would have had to blame himself.
"You were part of it, but not the only cause," she comforted him. Though this all was to her benefit, she was not heartless as to not see his suffering.
He nodded, acknowledging this was correct and therefore admitting his role in it all. Irina patted his arm and smiled. No matter what happened, Irina felt she would treat him like her own.
The light was now gone from the room but neither bothered to remedy the situation. They remained in a silence, which revealed more than any words could. It was an acceptance of his fate and of Sydney's.
The door opened, causing a pool of light to form on the wooden floor. A maid stepped in, bringing a tray of food for him to eat. Sark appeared to not care and shifted his attention back to Irina. That was, until Sydney walked through the door. As the maid finished setting his tray to the side, Irina followed her out the door. She took one glance back before closing it all but a crack. She would intrude a moment longer.
Their arms wrapped possessively around each other as they shared a tender kiss. Just as Irina had planned. Apart from their open admittance of devotion, nothing had changed. They were making it all so easy for her to control them.
"You're not angry with me, are you?"
"Not at all," Sark confirmed what Irina knew was true. He had never sounded so content. Even in the moonlit darkness, Irina knew his eyes were shinning.
"We can have a real life now, and I truly love you."
She waited and then came his soft reply, "And truly, I love you."
The End
Please let me know what you think one way or the other.