The Perfect Weapon: Chapter 2017: Part 2: 1st post
Note; This part of chapter 2017 is uploaded in 2 posts. 1 of 2.
Chapter 2017: Part 2
"Sydney, would you either take off that ring or wear gloves while you’re painting?!" Jack growled irritably. "I still have the scars on my hands from pouring the molten gold into the mold. So really, is it too much to ask-"
"Yes, Daddy. No, it’s not." Sydney hid her smile as she reached for a pair of gloves. It still amused her and probably always would to hear her father rant and rave. It was such a welcome change from years of silence and pinched lips. But he needed to be distracted. “So how are the plans for the wedding coming?”
Jack walked over to the door and looked out into the hallway before turning to answer with a secretive smile.
“Paranoid much?” Sydney asked in amusement.
“I’m not paranoid, I’m just cautious. You know your mother, she pops up when you least expect it. From the dead-“
“Dad. The wedding plans?” Sydney rolled her eyes. Her father was in a mood today. “How are they going?”
"Perfectly. I have to be gone for two weeks on a mission. It will enable me to take off an entire week with no interruptions for our honeymoon. I’ve told Sylvester that if my phone so much as beeps - Then again, maybe I’ll bury it for the duration."
"You’re really going to take comp time?” Sydney teased. He must have enough comp time accrued over the last two decades to take a year off if he wanted.
“Absolutely. I have my priorities straight these days.” Jack looked up to see Sydney’s face.
Sydney smiled. “I know, Dad. Aren’t you going to tell me what you’re planning for the wedding.?"
"No." Jack looked intently at the lengthy strip of paint he’d rolled on the wall as if it was the most fascinating sight he’d ever seen.
Sydney laughed at her father’s flat tone and monosyllabic answer. She knew that meant he was teasing her. "C’mon! You can tell me," she wheedled.
"No. Your mother is an expert at manipulating information out of the unwary-" Jack smiled softly, remembering the hot day months ago at a cold pool.
"You’re confusing her with Dave."
"Speaking of which, where is Dave? I thought he was going to help us with the painting?" Jack complained.
"He’s having an ice cream date with Judy. You know nothing gets in the way of his ice cream dates with Judy!" Sydney laughed again.
"The man has an unhealthy fetish with spoons," Jack muttered.
"What’s that about spoons?" Sydney asked as she stopped to look at the turret room. Judy had been right - this soft sage green with the cream trim was going to be restful and soothing, a perfect escape from tension.
Jack cleared his throat. Little pitchers still had big ears. "What’s that about Vaughn’s proposal with the actual ring? You never finished telling me about it."
"Oh! That’s right." Sydney looked down at her hand, the ring hidden under the glove.
“I still think you should have gone with S and M,” Weiss argued, slanting Vaughn a glance as they knelt to sand woodwork in the dining room.
Irina looked at Susan in surprise. “I really didn’t think Vaughn had it in him.”
“No?” Susan grinned. She liked Irina. She liked Irina’s toys too. They hadn’t used that leash for a while. It was time to try a new training technique for that book she hoped to write some day.
“No. I was sure we’d never have grandchildren.”
“Grandchildren?” Susan frowned in confusion and then began to giggle. “Oh. Had it in him.”
“Right. Like I want my wife to walk around with the initials S and M on her hand.” Vaughn rolled his eyes. “Someone like Sark would go wild with that kind of opportunity-“ He stopped to grind his teeth. Sark was acting somewhat reformed these days as he tried to figure out who he was, but...Blech. He knew who Sark was. A pseudo-British brat with an ego as big--
“Hey, buddy, you need to let go of that jealous streak you have with Sark-“
“I can’t stand him!”
“You got the girl. You win. Get it?” Weiss sighed, then looked over at Vaughn with a sly grin. “So...did you get it when you proposed at the waterfall in Sri Lanka?”
“A gentleman never tells.” Vaughn grinned in return.
“And you’re a gentleman?”
“In Jack’s house. Outside of it, I’m whatever Sydney wants. From Jack’s manual, remember?” Vaughn turned the sander back on in the hopes of forestalling any more of Weiss’ questions. He smiled reminiscently as he remembered Sydney’s wonder at the romantic hideaway he’d found in Sri Lanka just for his formal proposal, to say nothing of the filigree-style ring Jack had created for her.
Sydney paused in rolling paint on the wall. "Dad...you know, I was thinking that we might have our wedding here. At this house."
"Really?" Jack asked, surprised. "Why?"
Sydney gestured around the room. "I think of this house as...ours. All of ours. We've all worked on it for months and now it feels...like our first true home."
"Sweetheart." Jack put down his roller and curled his hand around Sydney’s shoulder. “I’m glad you feel that way.”
“I do,” Sydney said softly, leaning back into her father for a moment. She turned to look at him with a pointed glance. “I love the softer colors you’ve chosen for this new house. I certainly don’t feel that way about Querencia.”
Jack shook his head. “I know it’s not your favorite place, but surely since you haven’t been back to visit there in the last six months...”
“I’ll go back when you all are finished converting it into a center for refugee women and children. I’ll go back in honor of your mother, but for me...” Sydney shook her head this time. “No.”
"It’s your choice, of course. But where here do you want it?"
"If it’s a beautiful day, outside by that naturalistic pool you’re planning in the gardens." Sydney smiled as she remembered that argument between her parents. Her mother had finally allowed her father ‘his oasis’ as he’d called it. Although she didn’t look as though she’d given in, she’d looked...almost triumphant at his words. Oh well, whatever worked for the two of them...was something she wasn’t going to think about.
"And if it’s not a beautiful day - Because it’s always good to have another option, you know."
"I know, Dad. If it’s not so beautiful, we can have it in the greenhouse you’re going to build. It’s small and therefore the perfect size - I want just our family there."
"I see. So no hurry then?" Jack asked with a pointed look at Sydney’s abdomen.
"No hurry." Sydney giggled. "Don’t worry, I won’t get pregnant."
"Of course you won’t. Because you’re still-"
"A virgin. And so are you. I was conceived and born through immaculate conception."
"Now, Sydney, I know your mother thinks she had some divine purpose in Rambaldi’s grand plan, but you were born as a result of a night in New Jersey-"
"Don't wanna know, don't wanna know!" Sydney singsonged. She heard a car door slam and ran over to the window. "Oh, good, Dave's here, along with...Sark." She sighed elaborately, but saw her own smile in the glare of the window. Sark always got Vaughn going.
"About time," Jack grumbled. "That man takes longer to lick a spoon than--"
“Hi, Lorena.” Dave sniffed as he walked back into the house toward the kitchen. “What do I smell?”
“Paint. Latex paint.” Irina pointed up the stairs. “Speaking of which, why don’t you go upstairs? Jack is annoyed that you weren’t here to help him paint Sydney’s room.”
“Priorities. It’s all about priorities.” Dave grinned then nodded at Sark. “C’mon, you can help-“
“I thought I was attending an at-home party!” Sark protested. “I didn’t know I was going to be enlisted to perform manual labor. How utterly plebian.”
“Hey, Sarkie. You wanna help Vaughn and I sand paint off of woodwork?” Weiss asked, wiping his forearm across a damp, dust-covered forehead. He walked to the refrigerator and opened it, pulling out a water bottle.
“You’re making a mess,” Irina complained, pushing Weiss out of the room.
“I think...” Sark eyed Weiss’ dusty form with disdain. “I will choose the painting party...” He raised his voice. “With Sydney. I do love spending time with a beautiful woman, after all.”
Vaughn closed his eyes and resumed the whining grind of the sander. He was not going to rise to the bait. He was not. Weiss was right - he had won the girl and that’s what mattered.
"Are you sad that Dave isn’t going to live here for a while the way you planned originally?" Sydney asked, She picked up the brush again, knowing well enough that Dave would take over the second he arrived, which was fine with her. She wanted to talk to her mother about that conversation she’d overheard.
Jack shook his head. "No. This enterprise..." He gestured around the house in varying stages of reconstruction. "Took much longer than we expected and Dave is fully recovered now. I can’t be sad about that. And if the past is any indication, he’ll be around all the time anyway."
"Well, when he's not with Judy or Sark. Or bringing Sark here." Sydney cocked her head to listen. Whenever Dave arrived, the house became much louder. She tucked her hair behind her ear, then gave up and twisted it up into a ponytail.
Jack tugged on his daughter’s ponytail, remembering a sad little girl in pigtails helping him paint every wall in their house white. Now, they had painted every freshly-drywalled room a different color, more subtle colors than Querencia, but nothing white. He’d had enough white. "True." He smiled at Sydney's disgust. She pretended to find Sark annoying, but she enjoyed the sibling-like rivalry with him, to say nothing of the rise he could always get out of Vaughn.
"It seems a little ridiculous that it's okay to get Sark out on a day pass to be with Dave, but Judy can't come to our house for dinner because she's our therapist." Sydney took off her gloves and slapped her thigh in irritation.
"Your mother isn't sanguine about that," Jack said with massive understatement.
"Mom has trouble playing by the rules." Sydney smiled.
"Unless she's the one who makes them.” Jack looked down at his roller pan intently, remembering Irina's implementation of her rules for punishing him for splattering paint in their bedroom. Who knew how much torture by paint brush a man could withstand? He did.
"Well, yeah. And she wants to be friends with Judy." Sydney reached out and traced her fingertip along the wood carvings in the molding, which Judy had suggested painting a pale cream.
"She can just keep needing therapy sessions--"
Sydney snorted. "Judy's too much of a rule keeper to do that."
Jack shrugged. "You never know about people. Take Vaughn. Please."
Sydney rolled her eyes. "Oh, Dad. Come on. That's such an old joke."
Jack said blandly, "I merely meant that Vaughn surprised me by wanting the gold from my old ring."
"Was Mom mad about losing the ‘mine’ in the ring?" Sydney asked, staring down at her hand. She closed her hand, holding onto it tightly, still thrilled that the ring combined Dave’s ruby - cut down in size - and the gold from her father’s wedding ring. A true family heirloom, to be passed down to their children.
"She was thrilled that Vaughn wanted that ring, sweetheart," Jack said softly. "But...I think she was hoping to see that ‘mine’ appear again, even if she won’t admit it."
"She really tries to control her possessiveness..." Sydney trailed off as she saw a glint of mischief in her father’s eyes. "Dad? What are you planning? Because you’re planning something--"
“Who, me?” Jack said in unison with Dave.
“You know he’s up to something, don’t you?” Sydney asked Dave with a grin, as he walked into her room with Sark.
“Looks like you didn’t need me, after all,” Dave quipped as he looked around the nearly-completed room.
“Oh yes, I did, you slacker.” Jack handed Dave a roller. “There’s a wall there with your name on it. It needs a second coat.”
“Speaking of something with a name on it, what are you planning, Jack?” Dave asked quietly.
"Nothing. Nothing at all."
"But-" Dave broke off as he heard a car door slam and went over to the window. Oh good. Jack and Irina's wedding present was now here.
"No buts about it."
Dave paused and stared at Jack. Walking back over, he pointed at Jack. "I know that smirk. You think you’re clever. Which means you’re up to something. Something...to do with Irina and buts? Butts? Are you having a tattoo put on your butt?"
"God, no!" Jack laughed. "I’m not having some guy stare at my ass for an hour and if I had a female tattoo artist-"
"Mom would kill!" Sydney interjected.
Sark began to chuckle. “Judging by the chagrin on Jack’s face, I doubt you were supposed to hear that exchange of male-“
“Oh, pick up a brush and start painting, M.B.,” Jack griped.
“Really, isn’t it a violation of the Geneva Convention to call me by derogatory terms?” Sark asked.
“Oh, Justin.” Sydney smirked. “Calling you Monkey Boy is just a sign of affection-“
“It is not-“ Sark complained, hiding his own smile.
“Oh geez, it’s the shithead.” Dave’s cousin muttered as she juggled a bag holding long loaves of Italian bread and a slim manila envelope in her hands. She had gasped when a hand reached from behind her and rang the bell before she could. Looking up, she swore silently. She couldn’t ditch the guy. He had shown up at a speed dating event she’d attended and then somehow been matched with her on eharmony.com. They had nothing in common and he’d lied about his age and...he was bald. She sighed resignedly. ”Sylvester. How are you?”
“Ding-dong. If only he were dead...” Dave muttered looking out of the window.
“Jack!” Irina yelled up the stairs. “Did you invite Kendall?”
“For the love of god, no! Don’t tell me he’s here.” Jack groaned. “Who told him we were all going to be here today?”
“Far be it from me to point out the obvious...” Sark drawled. “But the fact that I’m out on one of my all-too-infrequent day passes just might have tipped the man off.”
Jack rolled his eyes and pointed at Dave. “Yet another reason to keep the monkey in his cage.”
“Well, damn... “Judy rolled her eyes as she walked up the steps to the porch.
“Judy!” Dave’s cousin turned to smile, shifting the bag in her hands.
“Let me help-“ Kendall offered.
“No!” Dave’s cousin stepped back, holding the envelope behind her back.
Judy’s eyes widened. Was that... “I’ll take it for you.”
“Good.” She sidled closer to Judy and pressed the bell repeatedly. Someone save her from Sylvester, who was eyeing her as if she were Tweety Bird.
“Should I let him in?” Irina asked. “There’s someone there with him. A woman... Oh, wait-“ She smiled as she looked over at Dave as he and Jack came down the stairs. It was a pleasure when a plan began to fall into place.
“Where is Sark?” Vaughn asked, looking up toward the ceiling.
“Upstairs with Sydney.” Jack pointed, hiding a small grin as Weiss coughed behind his hand. Behind Vaughn’s back, Susan and Irina both began to hold up one finger, then two, then a third just before Vaughn threw down his mask and darted for the stairs.
“As fascinating as this stupid game of yours and Sark’s with Vaughn is!” Dave grumbled. “Can you open the door and let in my cousin and my girlfriend?” He impatiently reached past Irina and pulled open the door. “Judy. What...” He smiled as Judy held up a small purple gift bag. Judy and her purple. Speaking of gifts... Dave grinned. He took the bag of bread from his cousin and handed it to Irina, before giving her a hug. “Maddie!”
“Hi, Dave.” Maddie hugged him back. She whispered, “I brought the item and Judy has it-“
“Great, let’s take it out to my car,” Dave said quickly, grabbing the envelope from Judy and hustled his cousin out the door.
“What was that about?” Irina asked suspiciously, slapping the bread into Susan’s abdomen.
“Ugh...” Susan grunted, taking the bread into the kitchen. “That woman doesn’t know her own strength.”
Jack frowned. “I don’t know, honey. Dave is up to something. Sydney!“ He called out.
Sydney appeared at the top of the stairs. “Let me guess. Go read their lips.” She sighed and walked around Vaughn, back into her room. “What kind of parents order their child to snoop-“
“We do,” Jack and Irina said in unison. “Go!” Irina demanded.
“What is he saying?” Sark asked Sydney, as he eyed the paint roller with distaste. “And don’t dissemble. I know you’re reading their lips.”
Sydney peered out the window, one hand against the glass. “Okay, okay. Dave is telling her not to tell Irina that she saw...” Sydney blinked. “Huh?” She must have read their lips incorrectly.
“Is there something wrong?” Vaughn asked from the doorway. He stopped to smile as he saw the ruby winking at him in the sunlight streaming into the window. She had agreed to marry him. Him. She wasn’t even remotely interested in Sark; he was just...an annoying little brother. Really annoying.
Sydney turned back to the window and hid her smile. She really should get Sark released into her recognizance. His presence guaranteed her Vaughn’s constant attendance. “Hi, Vaughn. Hey, can you get me a drink? I’m dying of thirst.”
“I..okay. Whatever you want.”
Sark turned to Vaughn. “While you’re going, I’ll take a-“
“You’ll take my fist in your mouth, if you don’t watch it.”
“Tsk, tsk. Such undeserved hostility.” Sark raised an eyebrow. “I do wonder, Agent Vaughn, if your constant need to assert your role in Sydney’s life is not a compensatory mechanism.”
“Compensatory mechanism?” Vaughn glared.
“Yes. I believe it’s called short man syndrome here in the States.”
Vaughn took a deep breath and tapped his fingers on the door jamb. “I’m not short.”
“Not apparently so, no.” Sark glanced over at Sydney who was pressing her forehead into the window.
“You...” Vaughn shook his head. He might be occasionally obtuse, but he was not stupid. “I’m not going to get drawn into this little game of yours.”
“Ah, well. More’s the pity. There goes my primary form of entertainment for the day.” Sark carefully and slowly rolled the paint onto the wall. Perhaps later Dave would loan him his phone and he could call Arezou to see how she was adjusting to living with Nia to attend school. Perhaps...he should take Dave up on his offer of re-education himself.
“Judy.” Jack smiled as Judy came into the house and peered around curiously. “Would you like a tour or would you like to explain why you’re here?”
“I have an excellent reason.” Judy held up her purple gift bag.
“I’m sure you do. A professional reason.” Jack nodded as he noted Judy’s dark pant suit. Dressing appropriately for the game in play was the sign of a professional.
“Of course. Why else would I be here?” Judy smiled up at Jack. How she would miss their little conversational games of cat and mouse.
“Why else? Let’s see...”
“Options, Dad?” Sydney teased as she came downstairs, followed by Vaughn and Sark.
“Sydney! I need you in the kitchen,” Irina said as she walked back into the front room. She looked from Jack to Judy and back again. They were so...comfortable those two. She still wasn’t sure she liked it. But she could control it, she could. Then again, as Judy herself had suggested, distracting herself from her little obsessions was an excellent compensatory mechanism. “Tell me what you learned.”
Sydney shrugged.
“What is it?” Irina demanded, as she heard the front door open. Dave and his cousin. “Hurry and tell me.”
“Um...I can’t say.” Sydney tucked her hair behind her ear. “It has to do with your wedding present.”
“A present?” Irina smiled. “Good. I like presents.” She peered back at Judy and Jack. What was in that purple gift bag of hers?
Jack began to tick off his ideas. “You could have come over to see the house out of natural curiosity, given that you were here when we bought it.”
“A therapist is not allowed to indulge herself with curiosity about nonessential components of her patient’s life.”
“Sure.” Jack nodded. It was something private, apparently, or she would have gone into the kitchen with the rest of the group. He turned and urged Judy into the dining room on the other side of the hallway nearer the kitchen. He glanced back there, wondering if he’d really just heard the sound of footsteps following him. Didn’t anyone watch football anymore for entertainment on a Sunday afternoon? Or... “Vaughn!” Jack called out. “Why don’t you find a hockey game on tv?”
Judy smiled. The Jack of a year ago would have never used the word, ‘sure’ or spoken so casually. “Any other ideas?”
Jack looked up as Dave and his cousin walked through the hall and nodded absently, turning back to focus on Judy. “You’re...doing a home visit. To ascertain, once again, how Irina and I do in a social setting.” That would allow Judy to stay for dinner and spend time with Irina and Dave and his cousin. Good idea.
“Good option,” Judy agreed.
“I’m sure you think so-“ Jack smiled wryly, seeing the laughter in Judy’s eyes.
“But that’s not it either,” Judy retorted, willing to draw this out as long as possible. Then again, Irina had her plans timed down to the minute and it wasn’t wise to push the woman too much. She held up her gift bag again.
Jack nodded. “Beware a therapist bearing gifts.”
TBC at Chapter 2017: Part 2: cont’d and concluded