I love my SpyDaddy.

[sunshine_queen]

Request #2

for allthingsholy

Challenge: Jack Bristow, "An old war not quite forgotten in his eyes."--The Name of the World, Denis Johnson.

Jack Bristow sees other men picking up their children and wonders what it's like to be so light.

It's usually Laura who's in charge of Sydney's transportation- to school and back, to friends' houses and to lessons, but Tuesday evenings Laura has a class, so he picks up Sydney from ballet.

He arrives early, as he always does, and waits outside, glancing in the window every so often. Sydney's flitting form is the tallest and is easily distinguished, but he still ascertains her position in the classroom, just as he eyes the quickest way to get in there and the fastest escape from the building to his car.

He is not a paranoid man. He is merely cautious.

There are other parents waiting: mothers, some haggard, some well-dressed, some with younger children that drool and babble and slobber, nothing like Sydney as a baby, or older children who whine and tug at their parents, nothing like Sydney now. There are a few fathers- dressed in suits mostly, but a few are more casual.

While impatient, these men do not scan faces and bodies for enemies, could not run down the hall with their daughter under their arm in under a minute. He both pities and envies these men- they could not protect their daughters, but they also do not endanger them.

These men, they might have seen their own adversity- family or monetary, not receiving the promotion they desired, being forced to sleep on the couch by their wives. They have not, however, ended lives, or tortured men to get them to speak, or missed their daughter's birthday to spy on a South American government officials.  Jack can remember these things, and regret them, and the weight is occasionally unbearable.

At 7:15 Sydney bounds out of her class in a pink leotard, her hair escaping her bun in curled tendrils, and she finds him immediately. She is five years old and knows nothing of weight, chattering excitedly about her class and clinging to his hands. Jack takes her little bag- pink, with "Sydney" written in purple script across two paler pink ballet slippers- and holds her hand, once more checking for dangers. Just before they step outside, Sydney stops and tugs on his coat, never stopping her recount of every moment of the class, and raises her arms to be picked up.

Sydney is effervescent.

Comments

[dollsome.livejournal.com]

*melts* Ohhhh. Daddy! And little Sydney! And . . . just so cute and sweet and, yeah, kinda sad, but the cute sweetness cancels it out.

You rock, Madita.

[sunshine-queen.livejournal.com]

I love Syd and her Daddy like I love no other. Hell, I love Daddy like I love no other.

*bows* Thank you, Nita. I'm writing your CHALLENGE OF DOOM as we speak.

(haaaate you, by the way.)

[allthingsholy.livejournal.com]

Oh, thank you muchly--I love it. I read that quote awhile ago (never did get around to finishing the book though) and immediately thought of Jack. I liked that this was when Syd was younger, back before Irina betrayed; she didn't make him who he is, she just shaped who he was into something harder. I like that.

I'd love to return the favor and drabble you something. (Which sounded dirtier than I'd intended.) Again, love this. So much. Thank you.

[sunshine-queen.livejournal.com]

Lord, this was so hard to write. Once I got started, though, I was surprised at how much I enjoyed writing it. I mean, the bottom line is that SpyDaddy loves his baby more than anything. And that's all that matters. So writing it was... oh, lovely.

Thank you for the challenge!

[non-horation.livejournal.com]

Yay fic. And aw, Syd is so cute and oblivious, and Jack loves her endlessly.

[sunshine-queen.livejournal.com]

Yay, comment!

Of course Syd's oblivious, she's a little girl. And yes, Daddy loves her endlessly. It's Daddy.