Title: Nocturnal Activities
Character: Jack Bristow (mention of Sydney/Vaughn)
Notes: Back to A! I always knew I was going to do Alias, although I didn't know I was going down this particular road in my kinky boots. Hey, if all that brotherly love is hunky-dory...
Thanks again to Beta Goddess Carol. It was a photo-finish to get to the KEL, but I think we made it.
Summary: Missing scene from "Firebomb."
Jack never had any intention of taking the tapes home. It was only after contemplating the possibility of Kendall or anyone else getting their hands on them that he decided they’d be better off in the wall safe in his apartment. Only until Syd got back from Kandahar, of course.
He would never actually look at them. It was bad enough that someone had actually managed to place surveillance equipment in his daughter’s apartment, violating her privacy, without Jack being forced to witness what might be going on between Syd and Agent Vaughn, or anyone else for that matter.
On the other hand, maybe a look at the video would provide a clue as to who’d done the actual bugging. The plumber was obviously a fall-guy. Marshall’s old SD6 bugs pointed to Sloane and probably Sark, but why overlook a key piece of evidence just because it might be uncomfortable? He’d accepted the fact that Syd was a grown woman who had relationships with men, although he could hardly approve of her current choice.
Another reason he needed to have a look. A father had a right to make sure his daughter was truly happy. It was too late to bring back Danny Hecht or create a conventionally happy childhood, but he was doing the best he could. Right now that involved a stiff drink and a tape that shouldn’t even exist.
“Vaughn. Oh god, Vaughn.”
The last name should have been ridiculous in such an intimate situation, but Jack couldn’t laugh, could barely control the tremor in his hand and finished the drink in one gulp. He knew his daughter was beautiful, but to see her face as she made love was to see her mother and realize how long he’d been alone. He dropped the glass, barely registering that it had landed on the floor.
His hand ended up resting on his thigh. He wouldn’t move it. Not an inch. No matter what.
They still had most of their clothing on, making it hard to see what was transpiring, but the faces and the sounds told everything, and Jack still had an imagination.
Vaughn wasn’t the most clean-shaven young man. He wondered how that stubble felt against his daughter’s soft skin. She didn’t seem to mind. Vaughn appeared to be quite the kisser: Jack found himself breathless waiting until they broke for oxygen. When they finally did, Syd let out a gasp that sent a shiver through Jack’s body.
There was no doubt she was happy, but what about Vaughn? Well, why shouldn’t he be happy? Look what he was doing. Jack remembered the few times Syd had kissed him on the cheek, how soft her lips were. Actually having his tongue inside her mouth must be amazing. Never mind the other heat and wetness that would be engulfing him.
His hand had moved.
He rubbed himself through the fabric of his pants, hips rising in time to Vaughn’s thrusts into Sydney. He kept his eyes on Syd’s face, feeling himself inside her, imagining he was bringing those sounds out of her and that she finally trusted him. Her screams coincided with his final thrust and he came panting loudly enough to drown out the name she was calling, so he could only hear “Dad, Dad!”
Jack found himself shuddering with a mixture of elation and disgust until he had control of his mind and body again. He picked up the glass and placed it on the table. The tape had switched to an innocuous scene of Will and Francie in the kitchen discussing who’d eaten the last of the ice cream.
He could say with certainty that he knew Sydney better than her mother ever would, but more than anything he still wanted her trust.
Even more, now that he’d violated it.