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Chapter Three
Where, oh, where has my little Jack gone?
Wherein Sydney begins the search for Jack and Sark sidetracks said search
Dressed and with gun in hand she turned the disc on the frame, activating the mirror. She stood back as the light flashed into the room and the mirror steadied on the forest floor.
“Don’t be too long,” Julian told her, resting a hand on her back.
“I’m just going to have a quick look around,” she assured him, kissing his cheek lightly before turning and stepping into the mirror.
She slitted her eyes so as not to get the full, bright effect of the mirror and when she opened them wide again she found herself in the Beanstalk Forest. Turning she waved cheerfully at the shimmering blue air behind her, even though she couldn’t see Julian she knew that he could see her.
Keeping her gun alertly in front of her she began scanning the area for any traces of her father or Marshall. Moving in an arch she looked for clues, not that she was especially adept at tracking through wilderness. Turned out she didn’t need those skill because anyone could recognized the shell casings littering the forest floor. She bent down and scooped up a handful. They matched the gun her father would have been carrying and there were a lot of them. She scuffed her foot over the ground, kicking up more casings, almost a clip full she guessed. She wasn’t sure if her father would carry another clip around the office with him, but this was Jack Bristow surely he would have. Stuffing the cases into her pocket she debated searching further, possibly her father and Marshall had gotten away but, they could have been taken. She decided to risk ranging around a little ways, but finding nothing else she retreated back to the mirror opening, she didn’t want to get caught by whatever might have caught her father.
With one last look behind her she stepped back through the mirror.
Julian was sitting on the bed cleaning one of his guns when she returned. “Did you find anything?”
She held out the handful of casing, “They match what my father would have been carrying.”
He inspected the shells, “They can’t be from when we were there?”
She shook her head and sat next to him, staring at the mirror, “No there were too many.”
He stared at the mirror with her for a while, “So, back through then?”
“Back through,” she confirmed, “We’ll need somebody to watch this end of the mirror while we’re gone.”
“Shall we leave it open the whole time?” he skeptically asked.
She bit her lip, “I’m not sure. We don’t want trolls rampaging through your apartment and LA, but we want a way to get back.”
“Every what, six hours we could have the mirror turned back on,” he shrugged, “There’s always the other mirror as well.”
“Yes,” she stood up and turned off the mirror, turning around to face Julian, “So who can we get to watch the mirror and your apartment?”
He raised an eyebrow and began reassembling his gun, “You expect me to come up with someone.”
“What about Mom?” she hesitantly asked.
His hands reassembly the gun slowed down, “While I did tell your mother about our little excursion, I don’t think she’s the best person for this. Can you image the amount of mischief she could get into in that other world?”
She giggled, “I don’t think anyone, ever, has linked what my mother does to the word ‘mischief’.”
He smiled indulgently, “Still I don’t think she would be the best candidate.”
She flopped backwards onto the bed, “Did she believe you? When you told her.”
He pursed his lips as he thought, “It’s hard to say. She didn’t pursue the matter any further.”
She didn’t really hear him as she was focusing on his lips, which he noticed. Leaning over her he buried a hand into her hair and raised her head for a brief, but agreeable, kiss. Breaking the kiss his hand ran over her prone body as he rose to put away the cleaning kit. She rolled over to watch him, but didn’t get up.
“There’s Eric, Weiss, from work,” she fiddled with her ring, “He might do it.”
Julian paused in thought, “I believe I know which one you’re referring to. Dark hair, slightly overweight, always hanging around your Mr. Vaughn?”
She indignantly sat up, “Eric’s not overweight, he’s…he’s pleasantly robust.”
“Is that what it’s called?”
She ignored that and glanced at her ring, it caught her attention at the oddest times and it really was such a mesmerizing shade of lime green.
“You’re still obsessed with that ring,” Julian’s voice broke through her musings.
She glanced coyly up at him, “That’s what Vaughn said when he broke up with me.”
At her news she could see the calculating glint in his eyes.
“Really? He broke up with you, not the other way around,” he came back to sit beside her on the bed.
“I’d been busy.” Now was a perfect time to ask him about the fake Francie except for the fact that his hand was in her hair again and he was pushing her down against the bed.
“Julian…” she tipped her head back as he began kissing down her neck, “We need to…” his other hand was under the hem of her blouse and sliding up, “rescue my father.”
“He can wait a little longer.” She thought he said, but she wasn’t certain with her blouse being pulled over her head at the time.
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