Five Aliases That Never Were
by Celli Lane
***
Feedback: Yes, please. [email protected]
Category: AU
Rating: PG-13 for violence.
Spoilers: Through the end of season two.
Summary: "Turn a new life over." Five Alias what-ifs.
Archiving: Cover Me and our site (www.fanfic101.com).
Disclaimer: Alias belongs to JJ Abrams, ABC, and various other people with lawyers. Some of the dialogue in the first section is taken from or adapted from the pilot. The quotes in the summary and at the beginning of each part are from the Counting Crows song "Omaha."
Acknowledgements: Lyra betaed, gave me some really good technical notes, and generally held my hand throghout the whole thing. Jenai also read through it and was polite enough not to call me crazy. :)
Notes: This is a Five Things fic, which is a semi-challenge that started in Smallville: five AU vignettes, connected only by a common theme. It is also an Iconography fic.
For Robin on her birthday.
***
I. start tearing the old man down
***
//A blow to the stomach knocks me back into the car behind me. Who picked a parking lot for this? There's no room to get any leverage. He misses a kick to my head, and staggers back from the punch I finally land. Of course, they were pretty much expecting to shoot me on sight. They didn't plan a fight either.
Another kick doesn't work, and I'm facedown on a car with my arm behind my back. Shit! But five years of SD-6 training have to be good for something. Look, a radio antenna. It makes a funny noise as it slaps him right in the face and knocks him off me.
Then it's a simple matter of kicking him through a car window.
Is that another car? Shit. Shit. The gun, the gun, where's the damn--
The laser sight lands squarely between the driver's eyes.
What the hell--?
"Get in the car, Michael."
"Dad?"//
***
"There is no time for you not to trust me! You don't know who you're dealing with!"
"I know exactly who I'm dealing with. A Security Section team. If I don't come back to work, Sloane's ordered me killed. But you'd know that if you were working for SD-6."
Jack's expression didn't change.
Mike swung the gun up. It felt entirely too comfortable to be pointing a gun at his father's face. "Then who the hell am I dealing with?"
"You've heard of the Alliance of Twelve."
"Of course. What do a bunch of mercenaries have to do with this? Sloane killed--" His voice choked on it. The trashed apartment, the blinking light on the machine, dark hair spilling over the edge of the bathtub--He took a breath. "Sloane had Francie killed. SD-6--"
"--is not a black ops division of the CIA. It's a branch of the Alliance."
"Bullshit." The laser wavered against Dad's--against Jack's chest. "I'm working for the enemy?"
"Yes."
"And you are the enemy."
The headlights of the pickup car flashed. "Yes. Michael, this is your last chance. You have to go."
Mike deliberately held his father's eyes until the lights behind him faded. "*You* can go to hell."
He watched Jack's car drive away. Instinct more than thought had him moving away from the open space of the parking lot. He found a shadowed spot and pulled out his cell phone.
Will answered on the second ring. "Bristow, is that you? I tried to call you back, but that ringer must be dead."
"Hey. Uh, I had phone trouble and then car trouble." He spared a moment's thought to his shiny new truck. "Can I bum a ride?"
***
Mike ignored the agent standing in the corner of the conference room, the throb of the missing tooth in the back of his mouth, and the cramp in his left hand. He kept writing.
A woman entered the room. She conferred quietly with Agent Weiss, then approached the table. "That's a lot of writing," she said in a too-cheerful tone.
He didn't bother to look up. "I've written longer papers in law school."
"Do you need a break? Can I get you coffee or anything?"
"A new pen. This one's dying."
There was a yelp behind him just as another pen landed on the table. "Dammit, Syd! That's my favorite pen!"
"Didn't they tell you about sacrificing for your country when they recruited you?" she asked him.
Mike shut his thoughts off fiercely and kept writing. "Thank you."
A hand on his shoulder made him look up. Agent Vaughn's eyes were kind. "Are you sure I can't get you anything?"
My life back. My fiancee. My illusions. "That coffee would be nice."
***
by Celli Lane
***
Feedback: Yes, please. [email protected]
Category: AU
Rating: PG-13 for violence.
Spoilers: Through the end of season two.
Summary: "Turn a new life over." Five Alias what-ifs.
Archiving: Cover Me and our site (www.fanfic101.com).
Disclaimer: Alias belongs to JJ Abrams, ABC, and various other people with lawyers. Some of the dialogue in the first section is taken from or adapted from the pilot. The quotes in the summary and at the beginning of each part are from the Counting Crows song "Omaha."
Acknowledgements: Lyra betaed, gave me some really good technical notes, and generally held my hand throghout the whole thing. Jenai also read through it and was polite enough not to call me crazy. :)
Notes: This is a Five Things fic, which is a semi-challenge that started in Smallville: five AU vignettes, connected only by a common theme. It is also an Iconography fic.
For Robin on her birthday.
***
I. start tearing the old man down
***
//A blow to the stomach knocks me back into the car behind me. Who picked a parking lot for this? There's no room to get any leverage. He misses a kick to my head, and staggers back from the punch I finally land. Of course, they were pretty much expecting to shoot me on sight. They didn't plan a fight either.
Another kick doesn't work, and I'm facedown on a car with my arm behind my back. Shit! But five years of SD-6 training have to be good for something. Look, a radio antenna. It makes a funny noise as it slaps him right in the face and knocks him off me.
Then it's a simple matter of kicking him through a car window.
Is that another car? Shit. Shit. The gun, the gun, where's the damn--
The laser sight lands squarely between the driver's eyes.
What the hell--?
"Get in the car, Michael."
"Dad?"//
***
"There is no time for you not to trust me! You don't know who you're dealing with!"
"I know exactly who I'm dealing with. A Security Section team. If I don't come back to work, Sloane's ordered me killed. But you'd know that if you were working for SD-6."
Jack's expression didn't change.
Mike swung the gun up. It felt entirely too comfortable to be pointing a gun at his father's face. "Then who the hell am I dealing with?"
"You've heard of the Alliance of Twelve."
"Of course. What do a bunch of mercenaries have to do with this? Sloane killed--" His voice choked on it. The trashed apartment, the blinking light on the machine, dark hair spilling over the edge of the bathtub--He took a breath. "Sloane had Francie killed. SD-6--"
"--is not a black ops division of the CIA. It's a branch of the Alliance."
"Bullshit." The laser wavered against Dad's--against Jack's chest. "I'm working for the enemy?"
"Yes."
"And you are the enemy."
The headlights of the pickup car flashed. "Yes. Michael, this is your last chance. You have to go."
Mike deliberately held his father's eyes until the lights behind him faded. "*You* can go to hell."
He watched Jack's car drive away. Instinct more than thought had him moving away from the open space of the parking lot. He found a shadowed spot and pulled out his cell phone.
Will answered on the second ring. "Bristow, is that you? I tried to call you back, but that ringer must be dead."
"Hey. Uh, I had phone trouble and then car trouble." He spared a moment's thought to his shiny new truck. "Can I bum a ride?"
***
Mike ignored the agent standing in the corner of the conference room, the throb of the missing tooth in the back of his mouth, and the cramp in his left hand. He kept writing.
A woman entered the room. She conferred quietly with Agent Weiss, then approached the table. "That's a lot of writing," she said in a too-cheerful tone.
He didn't bother to look up. "I've written longer papers in law school."
"Do you need a break? Can I get you coffee or anything?"
"A new pen. This one's dying."
There was a yelp behind him just as another pen landed on the table. "Dammit, Syd! That's my favorite pen!"
"Didn't they tell you about sacrificing for your country when they recruited you?" she asked him.
Mike shut his thoughts off fiercely and kept writing. "Thank you."
A hand on his shoulder made him look up. Agent Vaughn's eyes were kind. "Are you sure I can't get you anything?"
My life back. My fiancee. My illusions. "That coffee would be nice."
***