Tell us about your first time. (Topic 12)
Mar. 14th, 2006 05:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
a_sloaneI do hope this is not a request for some banal anecdotes from my teenage years which I do not intend to share with anyone but a rather select audience. The phrase "first time" brings far more interesting things to mind than those awkward adolescent moments we all share.
Considering that I was Sydney’s employer for seven years, had recruited her and groomed her, it may appear somewhat odd, but the first time I saw her in action, up close, was well after those years had ended. It remains one of my favourite memories, nonetheless.
Now when I had found out that Sydney and her father worked for, as Marshal would put it, the opposing team, several things went through my mind. Despite the fact that at this point due to circumstances that had to do with my wife, I had already decided to change my… employer as well, I felt less than thrilled, as you might imagine. Later, I could see how their secret, which they were not aware I shared until our particular team was utterly dissolved, would be of use to me, but at the moment of discovery, rather less rational thoughts passed through me. I have never claimed to be either a saint or the Machiavellian machine Sydney flatters me by assuming I am. However, there was also one very clear resolution, there from the start: I would have them back, at my terms. Both of them.
Making resolutions without following them through is rather pointless, wouldn’t you agree?
The two years in which Sydney was missing were a terrible blow, but after I learned of her return, I started to set things in motion to achieve my aim. The CIA being what it is, it wasn’t that hard. (Though until we saved Sydney later that year, Jack tried and tried to work out what sinister aim I was pursuing by seeking out his and his daughter’s company and by working for an institution he knew I had left because I considered it less than satisfactory even before I joined the Alliance. Did I mention that Jack, despite being one of the smartest men on the planet, can be breathtakingly naïve at times?)
They did assign Sydney as my handler as requested, and when I suggested a mission that involved removing a rather useful item from the Chinese embassy, they agreed to it as well. And thus I found myself escorting her to a ball. She was wearing a very elegant black dress, and simply glowed. (With hatred, naturally, but it does become her, and I would never decline to be the focus of Sydney’s passion.)
I had sent Sydney on countless missions and on occasion had seen footage of her performing her tasks, but might I say that, cliché as it is, nothing beats the real thing? She charmed. She sparkled. The Chinese official who had invited me insisted on assuming she was my mistress despite my protestations. (Which were, admittedly, rather token. Because it always serves one well to be underestimated, and if he took me for the kind of besotted older man who would fall for a beautiful young woman… well.)
“I don’t care,” Sydney said when I informed her of the mistake, and I pointed out to her that we would need to create a distraction that allowed her to leave the room without being suspected of ulterior motives. After all, she had other tasks to perform that night, aside from gracing me with her company. Now, as I mentioned, she was no amateur but a professional since many years. It would have been possible for her to come up with something, I suppose, but I suspect it was that very professionalism which led her to accept my idea. My idea was, I must confess, my own reason for this particular mission; I could not have cared less about that little token which had the CIA so enthralled.
“My dear,” I said, offering her my arm, “shall we?”
We danced.
Everyone has their own pecularities. I do not expect everyone to understand why I find dancing with a woman one has formed into the warrior she became, a woman who has vowed one’s destruction at every other opportunity precisely because of earlier fondness, one of the most rewarding activities on the planet. It was a waltz, naturally; you might say we had been dancing this particular dance ever since she returned to my office after finding out the truth, looked me in the eye and dared me to believe the lie. But it had never been so beautiful as in this particular night.
Afterwards, when we sat in my limousine, I said: “There was a time when you trusted me.”
“That was before I knew who you were,” Sydney replied, and then added: “Before I knew who I was.”
The later part of her statement intrigued me, because while it fit my own idea of Sydney, I had not thought of her that self aware. There are several actions I regret because of the harm they did to Sydney Bristow, and yet I cannot regret Sydney herself. When she had still been unaware, she had been a charming girl, full of potential; but the woman she became through what happened is her true self, and I cannot wish it undone.
“No, Sydney,” I replied. “It was later than that.”
We spoke of other concerns after that, and returned to our respective quests, mine, though Sydney did not know it yet, for my unknown daughter, and hers for that part of her memory she had lost, and in due course, this led us back together again. I could not know this on that particular evening, though; I only thought that there was a first time for everything, and this one had been magnificent.
Considering that I was Sydney’s employer for seven years, had recruited her and groomed her, it may appear somewhat odd, but the first time I saw her in action, up close, was well after those years had ended. It remains one of my favourite memories, nonetheless.
Now when I had found out that Sydney and her father worked for, as Marshal would put it, the opposing team, several things went through my mind. Despite the fact that at this point due to circumstances that had to do with my wife, I had already decided to change my… employer as well, I felt less than thrilled, as you might imagine. Later, I could see how their secret, which they were not aware I shared until our particular team was utterly dissolved, would be of use to me, but at the moment of discovery, rather less rational thoughts passed through me. I have never claimed to be either a saint or the Machiavellian machine Sydney flatters me by assuming I am. However, there was also one very clear resolution, there from the start: I would have them back, at my terms. Both of them.
Making resolutions without following them through is rather pointless, wouldn’t you agree?
The two years in which Sydney was missing were a terrible blow, but after I learned of her return, I started to set things in motion to achieve my aim. The CIA being what it is, it wasn’t that hard. (Though until we saved Sydney later that year, Jack tried and tried to work out what sinister aim I was pursuing by seeking out his and his daughter’s company and by working for an institution he knew I had left because I considered it less than satisfactory even before I joined the Alliance. Did I mention that Jack, despite being one of the smartest men on the planet, can be breathtakingly naïve at times?)
They did assign Sydney as my handler as requested, and when I suggested a mission that involved removing a rather useful item from the Chinese embassy, they agreed to it as well. And thus I found myself escorting her to a ball. She was wearing a very elegant black dress, and simply glowed. (With hatred, naturally, but it does become her, and I would never decline to be the focus of Sydney’s passion.)
I had sent Sydney on countless missions and on occasion had seen footage of her performing her tasks, but might I say that, cliché as it is, nothing beats the real thing? She charmed. She sparkled. The Chinese official who had invited me insisted on assuming she was my mistress despite my protestations. (Which were, admittedly, rather token. Because it always serves one well to be underestimated, and if he took me for the kind of besotted older man who would fall for a beautiful young woman… well.)
“I don’t care,” Sydney said when I informed her of the mistake, and I pointed out to her that we would need to create a distraction that allowed her to leave the room without being suspected of ulterior motives. After all, she had other tasks to perform that night, aside from gracing me with her company. Now, as I mentioned, she was no amateur but a professional since many years. It would have been possible for her to come up with something, I suppose, but I suspect it was that very professionalism which led her to accept my idea. My idea was, I must confess, my own reason for this particular mission; I could not have cared less about that little token which had the CIA so enthralled.
“My dear,” I said, offering her my arm, “shall we?”
We danced.
Everyone has their own pecularities. I do not expect everyone to understand why I find dancing with a woman one has formed into the warrior she became, a woman who has vowed one’s destruction at every other opportunity precisely because of earlier fondness, one of the most rewarding activities on the planet. It was a waltz, naturally; you might say we had been dancing this particular dance ever since she returned to my office after finding out the truth, looked me in the eye and dared me to believe the lie. But it had never been so beautiful as in this particular night.
Afterwards, when we sat in my limousine, I said: “There was a time when you trusted me.”
“That was before I knew who you were,” Sydney replied, and then added: “Before I knew who I was.”
The later part of her statement intrigued me, because while it fit my own idea of Sydney, I had not thought of her that self aware. There are several actions I regret because of the harm they did to Sydney Bristow, and yet I cannot regret Sydney herself. When she had still been unaware, she had been a charming girl, full of potential; but the woman she became through what happened is her true self, and I cannot wish it undone.
“No, Sydney,” I replied. “It was later than that.”
We spoke of other concerns after that, and returned to our respective quests, mine, though Sydney did not know it yet, for my unknown daughter, and hers for that part of her memory she had lost, and in due course, this led us back together again. I could not know this on that particular evening, though; I only thought that there was a first time for everything, and this one had been magnificent.
