Alias Secret Santa Story Here is Chapter 1 of my
Alias Secret Santa Story! I got a
little bit carried away so I hope Nat won't mind that she's getting this posted chapters some of which won't go up until next week.
Title: Snow for Christmas
Chapter 1
Author: JoyLee
Rating: NC-17 - Here be smut folks!
Recipient: Nat
Spoilers: Everything up to Horizon.
Summary: A spyfam Christmas.
Request: Irina, Jack and Sydney, post Before the Flood, Much Spyrents Love, and umm, a puppy! Also managed to include: Irina living in a castle, Irina (well Laura) and Jack making snow angels
Note: In this universe, Horizon didn't happen. I had this half written when the episode aired and there was just no way to tweak it so that it made sense.
Disclaimer: I have no ownership interest in the Bristow/Devekos/Ottossons and make to profit. Fair use only. Ruritania is in public domain by now, but I don't own it either.
Chapter 1 - The Invitation
"Sydney, do you have a minute?"
As rest of the team filed out of the conference room, Jack looked extremely ill at ease. Sydney sat back down in her chair and folded her hands. Waiting.
Sitting up even more stiffly than usual, he began. "Chase informs me that Personnel is huffing about the amount of vacation and comp time we have accumulated and is insisting we both use up a week before the end of the year."
"Well, I was saving it up for when the baby comes, but it won't break my heart to have a week off." Sydney considered and then she decided she didn't care if it did look nepotistic. "Any chance I can take it Christmas week?"
"Certainly," he agreed. As Sydney was thinking that there were times when it paid to be related to the boss, he surprised her by continuing. "Since we both have time coming, I thought, and I completely understand if you already had plans or aren't interested, but if you would like… There is a cabin available Christmas week at Eagle Gorge."
"That place we went a few times when I was a kid?"
"Yes." Jack looked even more ill at ease. "The Ski Resort has gone upscale; more restaurants and shops. Also it's expanded the cross-country routes. I spoke with your doctor. She said downhill was probably not a good idea, but if you felt like it and took a companion there was no reason why you couldn't do some cross-country skiing and there's ice fishing."
Some of the few pleasant memories of time spent with her father from her preteen and teen years were centered at that resort. "We could catch our own Christmas dinner?"
"Why don't we plan on Christmas dinner at the lodge, but we can try and catch something for Christmas Eve." Jack seemed to be relaxing.
"Snow for Christmas." Sydney grinned. "Yeah, Dad. That'd be great. Uh, is there a hospital near by just in case the kid decides on an early appearance?"
"The County Hospital is twenty five minutes by road, has an excellent maternity ward and a heliport in case of emergencies." Jack had checked. "I'll finalize the reservations then?"
"I'm looking forward to it." A nice family Christmas. Sydney really like this idea. Maybe it could be the start of a tradition and the three of them: she, Dad and the kid could do this every year from now on.
As they both rose to leave, Jack cleared his throat, "Sydney, you do realize that fishing for Christmas dinner only came about because they lost our dinner reservations and it was a choice of that or canned stew?"
"Yeah, but it was fun." She'd been eleven the first time they'd done it. She remembered bitter cold and powdered hot chocolate out of a thermos, but it was still wonderful, because she and Dad were together and it was Christmas. "Maybe we can take the baby fishing when it's old enough?"
"Yes. Of course." Jack nodded again.
Returning to her desk she found Rachel and Tom waiting. "Something bad coming down?" Rachel asked with concern.
"No. Why?" Sydney started to collect her belongs to head for home.
"Director Bristow looked… worried." Tom relaxed slightly at her nonchalance.
Sighing Sydney explained. "That was not my father's 'the free world is in danger' look. Dad faces impending Armageddons without batting an eye. That look of terror and dread is reserved for truly frightening situations. In this instance inviting his only child to spend Christmas week in his company."
The two newer agents' exchanged looks involving a round of eye widening and eyebrow raising. Since curiosity is every spy's overriding attribute, Sydney deduced that they were working out who would get the task of further investigation.
Rachel apparently was awarded the mission, probably due to her greater diplomatic skills. "Was there doubt on the question?"
It had never previously occurred to Sydney that her newest teammates might not be up on office gossip. Specifically Bristow family history. "Considerable. Since I went off to college, Dad and I have spent," she had to think back, "two Christmas dinners, one Christmas Eve and a Boxing Day brunch together. None of those events in the same year."
"Work?" Grace asked sympathetically.
"Partly. Well, mostly actually." Now that she thought about it, once she was recruited into SD-6, she had been gone over the Christmas holidays as often as her father. It wouldn't surprise her if Sloane had deliberately scheduled things that way so as not to allow her and Dad a chance at reconciliation. "But Dad and I had a falling out in my late teen years, because of his emotional distance, and we really didn't make it up until we teamed up as doubles at SD-6."
Rachel looked sympathetic. Tom on the other hand just raised an eyebrow.
Some days later Rachel would tell Sydney that Tom had not regarded her explanation of the rift between her and Jack as much of a justification. "He said, 'With family you get what you get.' And that men like Director Bristow don't suddenly turn that way overnight. By the time you were a teenager you should have been able to deal with who he was and not expect some kind of touchy feely crap."
Looking up from helping fold their laundry she added. "The 'touchy feely crap' is a quote by the way."
"Somehow I didn't think it was your choice of phrase." Sydney was contemplating her wardrobe and trying to figure out what she would need over Christmas. She was definitely going to have to pickup a maternity ski jacket. Assuming they made such things. "And he's wrong. My dad did go cold pretty much overnight. Or as much as. It happened in the six months after Mom left us."
"Left you?" Rachel frowned. "I thought she died in a car accident."
Sydney did a quick mental review of Rachel's clearance levels. And a second one of security classifications on the Laura Bristow/Irina Derevko files. She sighed. "You need to put in for clearance for the Omega 10 level 'Cuckoo' files. Tom too. Do it right away. Because it would be just our luck to have her drop in for tea some afternoon and not have you guys up to speed."
"Okay." Rachel made a note on her PDA. "That was a weird segue. If you don't want to talk about your Mom just say so. I don't mean to pry."
"You'll understand once you read the files." Sydney assured her.
The weather was overcast and raining on the day she and Jack left. Sydney was glad to be getting out of LA.
The luggage was loaded in Jack's Lincoln and Jack was finishing putting her skis on the rack next to his own by the time she emerged from the house and waddled down the walk. Those skis might well prove to be wishful thinking on her part. Jack quickly turned and took her carryall and coat from her as she wedged herself into the front seat.
He frowned. "Is this my topcoat?"
"Technically it is APO's topcoat." She informed him. "But, yes, it was tailored for you. I sweet talked Costuming into lending it to me for the week when I discovered that buying a decent maternity dress coat that was warm enough for the mountains was going to set me back twelve hundred bucks. They assured me that this one didn't have any strange op tech in it."
"No. There's a GPS unit and a wire, but that all." His frown deepened. "If money is an issue, I would have bought a coat for you."
"I have plenty of money, Dad. I just am prioritizing my spending a bit differently these days. It seemed silly to spend that much on a coat I'm only going to use for a week when there is so much I could buy for the baby with that kind of money." She settled herself in the seat. One thing to be said for her father's Lincoln. It was built to hold big pregnant women.
Once they were on the road, Jack returned to the subject. "Do you need things for the baby? Because if you do you only have to ask. I remember how hard it can be getting by as a single parent."
"I'm fine for money, Dad, really." She had not taken money from her father except for tuition since she started working for SD-6. It had been a point of pride.
Now though her priorities had changed. "However, if you want to buy some things for your grandchild, that would be fine. I think spoiling the kid is part of your job description."
The look of interest her grant of permission brought on was at a level usual reserved for Intel that would bring down governments. Envisioning a pony arriving on her doorstep, she hastily added. "Just don't get
too carried away. If you've got twelve hundred bucks burning a hole in your pocket, use it to set up a college trust fund."
"I all ready did." He confessed.
Once they were on the I-5 heading north, Sydney started digging through her carryall. "I brought some Christmas music." She held up half a dozen CDs. "I thought we could listen to them on the way. How 'bout the new Frank Sinatra compilation?"
"Frank Sinatra?" Jack kept his face blank.
But Sydney had become better at reading her father. "What's wrong with Frank Sinatra?"
"Your
grandmother used to listen to Frank Sinatra." He tried to keep the note of derision out of his voice.
Sydney found herself grinning. "Not hip enough for you, huh? Sorry, I didn't bring my 'Best of Cream'."
As Sydney shuffled through the jewel cases, Jack decided not to mention that he had Cream in the car's CD case.
"I've got the Mormon Tabernacle Choir doing Handel's Messiah." She suggested.
"Handel would be good." Jack agreed. Leaving Sydney to make a mental note that apparently her father really liked The Messiah, because he had an odd half smile the entire time it played.
With Jack driving it took just over an hour to make it to Bakersfield. Sydney was a little surprised when he exited the freeway into downtown. They hadn't been on the road that long and even if Dad needed a break, it would have been faster to stop on the outskirts of the city. "What's up?"
Jack pulled the car over and parked. Turning to her he told her gravely. "There is another option for this weeks plans that we need to discuss."
Hell, thought Sydney. "This was all about setting up an off the books mission? I should have known. You could have told me back in LA rather than letting me get my hopes up that you actually wanted to go away and have
fun together!"
That stung. Jack tried to keep his voice level. "No, Sydney, there isn't any mission. And I have reservations for Eagle Gorge. But… we have an alternative invitation and you need to decide which you prefer."
"An alternate invitation?" Sydney was still suspicious.
"We've been invited to spend the week at the Imperial Zenda Resort in Ruritania."
"You think I don't spend enough time flying all over the world for work, that I would want to spend my vacation traveling to a postage stamp country in Central Europe who's primary claim to fame is some overly melodramatic 19th century history and its accompanying bad architecture?"
"These days it's primary claim to fame is for secure server farms and a willingness to grant asylum to moneyed fugitives." Jack corrected her.
"Fugitives?" Sydney got it then. "Is Mom…?"
"She invited us to spend the holidays with her in Zenda." Jack's face was its usual blankness. "If you want to go, this trip to the mountains will provide us with cover so that Langley need never know we left the country. If you don't, we can just head up to the cabin I've rented and spend the week there."
This put a different light on things. Sydney considered. She would like to see Mom, if for no other reason than to get some information on medical history and maybe some tips about the baby.
On the other hand, Dad had actually been able to provide answers to a surprising number of her Obstetrician's questions about her mother's pregnancy and her own birth. And this was his vacation as well. Quite possibly the first real vacation he'd had in years.
"How do
you feel about spending Christmas with Mom?"
"It's your choice, Sydney."
She sighed. "Thanks, but that's not what I asked. If you're going to be angry or suspicious or spend the entire time sniping at each other it will be a lousy Christmas for everybody, including Mom, and I'd just as soon head up to the mountains. Mom can wait for another time. The plan was us spending Christmas together."
Hearing that Sydney would put him before Irina, was actually all Jack needed. Knowing that, he could be magnanimous. "I think it would be good for you to have some time with your mother right now."
"Still not addressing the question, Dad."
She really was too good an interrogator. She wasn't going to be satisfied till he gave her some sort of direct answer. "Your mother and I… reached something of an understanding while we were prepping for Sevogda. There are still… issues, but most of the worst of it is resolved."
"Might not be a bad idea for the two of you to talk things out some more." Sydney suggested her hand resting on her belly. "You're going to share a grandchild now."
Jack suddenly had a vision of Irina and himself sitting side by side at a piano recital. That it did not strike him as completely beyond the pale told him all he needed to know about spending the next week as her guest. "True. But I think we can be civil to each other. Although I can't help being somewhat suspicious of her motivation." He added. "Given her history it would be imprudent not to be."
"I can live with your normal level of paranoia, Dad." She nodded at him. "I do it every day."
This satisfied she asked. "So how are we getting to Zenda?"
"Your mother made the arrangements. We pick up the documents at American Express."
That explained his choice of parking spots. The American Express office was across the street.
But the Starbucks was on the other corner. Pulling her wallet from the carryall, Sydney told him. "You pick up the docs. I'll go order coffee. You want a pastry to go with it?"
She ended up getting two cinnamon rolls anyway. Reasoning that if her father didn't want it she'd save it for later.
By the time she made it back to the car with her hot chocolate and Jack's Espresso, he was frowning at the papers that came out of the Fed Ex package. "Problems?" She asked.
"Only that your Mother seems to have rediscovered her sense of whimsy." He handed over her set.
It seemed she was to spend this Christmas as Sydney Anne Ottosson-Picard, married daughter of Jack and Irina Ottosson. Apparently she had been raised by Jack after he and Irina separated (not divorced, she noted with interest) in 1981. A simple and completely acceptable cover. It was the surname her mother had chosen that raised issues. "Isn't that..." She wasn't sure how to phrase it.
"The surname she was using when I first met her? Yes." His frown faded to a thoughtful expression. "Which actually isn't a half bad cover now that I think it over. There is a paper trail in place for the Ottosson family that is over thirty years old and was designed to withstand a FBI background check. I doubt even the people who worked the Joint Task Force would remember that before she was Laura Bristow she went by Laura Ottosson.
Irina Ottosson is not going to be tagged as a known alias in any governments' database."
"The folks who built the original Ottosson cover would spot it." Sydney pointed out.
"Even that's doubtful." Jack shook his head. "There were a dozen or more agents put in place at the same time as your mother. After thirty years and a regime change it's unlikely it would stand out even to the people who created it. The tech guys who were involved in that operation are probably long since retired or dead. I
know Cuvee and Vassilyvich are the only ones left alive of her handlers and supervisors."
Most of whom had met their ends at her mother's hands. Sydney had read the old KGB files on Irina Derevko. Apparently she hadn't much cared for the way she'd been treated by her male superiors in the KGB. But her father had a point. She continued his train of thought. "Not to mention Ottosson is a pretty common name among Scandinavian immigrants. Which is probably precisely why they picked it. So it should be perfectly safe for us to use it without drawing CIA or NSA attention.
"Particularly," She held up the brochure she found in the packet, "Since it seems that we will be traveling courtesy of the Zenda Resorts private jet rather than commercial."
Jack Ottosson was an aerospace consultant. Sydney worked for him. Thereby eliminating the need to set up any background employment beyond a dummy LLC for the family business.
"Not so dummy." Jack booted up his laptop and checked it out. "Looks like your mother has been using this for awhile. It seems we rent some nice offices in Bakersfield and own a couple of storage facilities in Toronto and St. Vincent that could well come in handy sometime. Not to mention a hefty bank account that we can both sign on. Do you think you know enough to be able to make small talk about airplane parts exporting?"
"Oh, please, Dad. I grew up listening to you talk about your 'work' at Jennings, remember? There is
nothing I don't know about airplane parts."
Since they could retain their normal clothing and accessories, it was the work of minutes to strip away the identities of Jack and Sydney Bristow and replace them with Jack Ottosson and Sydney Ottosson-Picard. Irina's cover work was as good as Marshall's. They had everything they could conceivably need. Including working credit cards, which Jack used to pay for parking the Lincoln in a long term lot away from the airport so that it couldn't be connected to the Ottossons.
In fact it seemed she had included too much. The Fed Ex envelope still had something in it as Jack put it into the secret storage compartment under the back seat of the Lincoln along with their real documents. This caused Sydney to ask suspiciously, "What else did Mom send?"
"There was a third set of documents." Jack glanced at Sydney to see how she'd take this. He kept his voice soft. "Apparently she doesn't know about..."
"Oh." Sydney hugged herself. It still hurt, but she had long since learned to deal. Then a thought struck. "So she probably doesn't know about the baby either?"
"Well, I haven't had a chance to tell her." Jack's mouth twitched. "Irina Derevko - a grandmother. That will take some getting used to."
The Imperial Zenda Resorts had
extremely well trained help. Three of them were lying in wait for Ottossons before they even had a chance to pay the cab. "Herr Ottosson, Frau Ottosson-Picard, it is an honor to assist you. If there is anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable you have but to speak."
It was all Sydney could do to hold on to her carryall as their luggage mysteriously disappeared into the waiting jet. They were ushered with great ceremony to their seats.
In addition to a main seating area which was decorated as a lounge, complete with bar, the jet had two private sleeping compartments. One of which was reserved for the Ottossons. The sleeping compartments allowed barely enough room to turn around in, but Sydney had slept often enough in coach seats (and occasionally wedged into cargo holds), that this looked like the lap of luxury.
"You go ahead and get some rest, Sweetheart." Jack told her.
There were two berths in the sleeping compartment. But she knew better than to suggest that he try to sleep as well. At least not at the same time she did. "Okay, Dad, you take first watch. I'll spell you in seven hours."
Jack had no intention of waking her before the plane was due to land, but saw no reason to argue over it. Instead once the flight was airborne he wandered back to the bar to check out their fellow guests.
From the look of them the Imperial Zenda Resorts were extremely upscale. Sydney had identified one young woman as the star of a TV show on one of the minor networks. Her traveling companions were clearly her entourage and boyfriend, whom Jack pegged as some sort of musician. In addition to this group there were two couples traveling together.
From the remarks he had overheard on boarding, the other passengers, who had boarded in LA, were none to pleased with this stop at Bakersfield to pick up Jack and Sydney. Apparently they weren't used to being kept waiting. Since he had no agenda that required these people's good will, Jack could care less what they thought. The resort management could deal with their complaints. But good manners cost him nothing. At least not when Irina was paying the credit card bill. "I'm sorry we delayed you. Let me buy you a drink to make up for it."
The drinks brought introductions. The man who had groused the loudest gave his name in a way that suggested that Jack should know who he was (something to do with pharmaceuticals based on his small talk) and was clearly curious as to why Jack and Sydney rated the special treatment they were getting from the staff.
Jack was curious about that too. His first guess, that Irina had paid for first class accommodations, seemed considerably less likely based on his observations of their fellow guests. Pharmaceutical guy's watch cost more than Jack's Lincoln. And this kind of staff would be able to spot that in a minute. But Jack was still getting the more deferential treatment.
Pharmaceutical guy had noticed it as well. And didn't care for it. He was used to being top dog. (Jack had ceased to be intimidated by this kind before he could legally drink. In the circles Jack operated in this guy wouldn't last ten minutes.) So he probed. "Ottosson, huh? Any relations to our hostess?"
Light dawned. "Irina? In a manner of speaking. We share a daughter." Jack found he still got far too much enjoyment in watching the look on another man's face when that man realized that Jack slept with a woman the other man desired, but would never come close to touching.
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