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Fic Alias: Same Calibre, Different Makes - Prologue
You've been hearing about it for ever so long... there you go. The beginning of my Sarkney fic, now entitled "Same Calibre, Different Makes." While this prologue actually takes up a scene in season 2, the rest of the fic will veer AU from the end of S2 onward (as in, no two-year blank, just a continuation from Sydney killing Allison (yes, she kills her in my world)). Due to the fact that I do not hang out in the Alias fandom at all, I don't have anyone to beta this... any mistake is completely and utterly my own. (And if anyone feels in the mood for a beta job, I'd love it. I don't publish often, *cough*understatement*cough*, so I don't think it would be too tasking. However, I've got two more chapters - far, far more consequent than this - ready to be beta'ed!)
Title: Same Calibre, Different Makes
Part: Prologue - The Hammer
Rating: Up to R in later parts.
Disclaimer: No matter how much I'd like that, Sark doesn't belong to me. Neither do any of the others. (Not even Weiss. *sniffles*)
Prologue: The Hammer
"Step out of the car, please."
He opens the door for her and she is proud to see he still has his gun in hand. She has taught him well. She pushes the body of the CIA agent out of the way. Sark has to take a step back as it crashes at his feet but his eyes do not stray from her. She stands next to him, keeping off her lips the smile that is shining in her eyes. He looks at her emotionlessly, or so does his body language say. Even his eyes give nothing away.
The police van drives by and she bans the smile from her eyes as they make their way over. Sark does not hold her at gunpoint but she knows his speed and efficiency; she is far from fooled. Inside the van sits Sloane, and the same mask of indifference is on his features.
"It's good to see you again, Irina," and life enters his eyes.
Only then does she let the smile come, the smile she knows is one of her greatest weapons. Fascination is an underrated gateway to control. "Thank you for extracting me."
Sloane studies the pages of the manuscript; he does not need much more than a few seconds to make certain it is the genuine article. They are the greatest living Rambaldi experts, are they not? Jack's short-sightedness has always been his greatest flaw, in her eyes. Sloane extends his hand to her and she takes it to get in.
When Sark sits next to her, closing the door, his gun is out of sight. She relaxes in her seat, looking at Sloane studying her.
"It seems they treated you well."
"You know them." Better than he thinks. So very short-sighted.
"How's Sydney?"
Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Sark turn his head to look at her. The movement is not hasty or impulsive, but it exists. Interesting. He has excelled at playing indifference and disinterest until now; or perhaps he had not yet had to act.
"Well enough. She won't quit the CIA until you're caught, however."
"Oh, by now I suppose it's fair to say until we're caught, Irina."
She smiles. "I suppose so."
"What about Jack?"
"Jack's a fool."
Sloane raises curious eyebrows, but keeps his questions to himself. His hands have not left the manuscript and now that he feels he has done enough small talk, he turns all his attention to the yellowed parchment. Irina glances at Sark, whose face is an unreadable mask, then tilts her head backward and smiles again, a smile that is not meant for anyone to see.
To be continued in Part One: The Safety Lock
Title: Same Calibre, Different Makes
Part: Prologue - The Hammer
Rating: Up to R in later parts.
Disclaimer: No matter how much I'd like that, Sark doesn't belong to me. Neither do any of the others. (Not even Weiss. *sniffles*)
Prologue: The Hammer
"Step out of the car, please."
He opens the door for her and she is proud to see he still has his gun in hand. She has taught him well. She pushes the body of the CIA agent out of the way. Sark has to take a step back as it crashes at his feet but his eyes do not stray from her. She stands next to him, keeping off her lips the smile that is shining in her eyes. He looks at her emotionlessly, or so does his body language say. Even his eyes give nothing away.
The police van drives by and she bans the smile from her eyes as they make their way over. Sark does not hold her at gunpoint but she knows his speed and efficiency; she is far from fooled. Inside the van sits Sloane, and the same mask of indifference is on his features.
"It's good to see you again, Irina," and life enters his eyes.
Only then does she let the smile come, the smile she knows is one of her greatest weapons. Fascination is an underrated gateway to control. "Thank you for extracting me."
Sloane studies the pages of the manuscript; he does not need much more than a few seconds to make certain it is the genuine article. They are the greatest living Rambaldi experts, are they not? Jack's short-sightedness has always been his greatest flaw, in her eyes. Sloane extends his hand to her and she takes it to get in.
When Sark sits next to her, closing the door, his gun is out of sight. She relaxes in her seat, looking at Sloane studying her.
"It seems they treated you well."
"You know them." Better than he thinks. So very short-sighted.
"How's Sydney?"
Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Sark turn his head to look at her. The movement is not hasty or impulsive, but it exists. Interesting. He has excelled at playing indifference and disinterest until now; or perhaps he had not yet had to act.
"Well enough. She won't quit the CIA until you're caught, however."
"Oh, by now I suppose it's fair to say until we're caught, Irina."
She smiles. "I suppose so."
"What about Jack?"
"Jack's a fool."
Sloane raises curious eyebrows, but keeps his questions to himself. His hands have not left the manuscript and now that he feels he has done enough small talk, he turns all his attention to the yellowed parchment. Irina glances at Sark, whose face is an unreadable mask, then tilts her head backward and smiles again, a smile that is not meant for anyone to see.
To be continued in Part One: The Safety Lock