Judas Kiss

Author: Geonn

Email: neil_j_miser@yahoo.com

Banner by: H1

Rating: NC17

Pairings: Sydney Bristow/Ana Espinosa

Category: Drama, Angst, A/A

Website: www.realmoftheshadow.com/geonn.htm

Disclaimer: These folks don't belong to me. They belong to JJ Abrams and Bad Robot.

Spoilers: "Parity," "Snowman," both minor

Archive: Yes, just let me know where it'll be.

Special Thanks: Lynne Knowlton for betaing this for me. Thanks for being 'fast like a freak.' :-D

Notes: This is set before Sydney knows the truth about SD-6, three years before the series began and when Syd was just beginning her friendship with Will. Not too sure about timelines, but Sydney should be around 22 in this story. There's one thing towards the end of the story regarding Sydney's cover that I've been told she would never do... but I left it in anyway <g> Call it a writer's perogative ;-D

Summary: The reason Sydney and Ana are such bitter enemies...

Special Thanks to Hl for the banner.


Her name is Sydney Bristow. She is tall, athletic, beautiful. She wears her brown hair straight and seldom does anything out of the ordinary with her wardrobe (unless she's on a mission, of course). She's an ordinary college student. And she is going to die.

His name is Faber. He may have a first name, but no one has mentioned it to her in the time she's been here. He is short, bald, ugly and carries a heavy wooden cane. His left leg is substantially thinner than the right. His eyes were barely more than slits, but that may have been due to the poor light in the room. He turns to her, facing the table she's strapped to with an ugly smile. He's holding a very long, very dangerous-looking blade. "Who sent you?" he asks, his voice heavily accented with German.

Sydney turns her head and stares up at the ceiling. "I'm your worst nightmare," she growls in her best Stallone.

Faber is unamused. His thin lips curl downward in a fierce scowl and he touches her arm with the point of the blade. "You wish to make this hard, little girl? We can make this hard."

As he cut into her flesh, she thinks back to the last time her job had taken her to Berlin. She had taken a stupid risk that time, too, and had paid the price for it...

---

Sydney Bristow followed her partner, Marcus Dixon, into the briefing room. Sloane and Marshall - their resident gadget expert - were already waiting. Arvin Sloane, the head of SD-6, was seated at the head of the table fingers steepled in front of him. He watched as Sydney lowered herself into her seat, then leaned forward and said, "Sydney, Dixon. Thanks for coming so quickly." His voice was as prickly as the white hairs in his beard. Sydney had never felt very comfortable around the man; he resembled a weasel in more ways than one. She knew of missions that had been played way, *way* under the radar, even for them. She had long ago decided that, while he was her boss, she would never trust the man very far.

They opened the files resting in front of them and saw a photo of a man, obviously taken from a surveillance camera. He was standing on the corner of a street, looking to his left and - coincidentally - directly at the camera. "This man is Werner Goetz. He's an entry level processor for a front company of the K-Directorate." Sydney tensed slightly. K-Directorate was a rival organization, an arm of the Russian intelligence underground. Sydney had never had any direct contact with the group, but knew of their unscrupulous practices. She would have to be careful running around with a defector from their ranks... Sloane continued, "Goetz has agreed to inform us of anything important regarding their activities; give us a head's-up, as it were. Sydney, you and Dixon will travel to Berlin and meet with Mr. Goetz, acquire whatever information he has, and bring it back to us."

"Will we be bringing him back with us?" Sydney asked.

"No. Goetz is simply the messenger this time. We'll allow him to return to work at K-Directorate and feed us more information in the future. If we ever believe him to be in danger, then we'll send in an extraction team."

"Right," Sydney said. "How will he know I'm the person he's supposed to meet?"

Every eye in the room turned to Marshall. The technology buff stood, holding a necklace between his fingers. "Hey. Everyone," he said, sounding buzzed and out of breath at the same time. He waved sloppily and lost his grip on the necklace, almost dropping it in the process. "Oop. Wouldn't... wanna drop that. Kind of costs more than, well, you know... me." He chuckled nervously, then held it up again. "This... is a necklace. But it's not an *ordinary* necklace." He paused for effect.

Sloane sighed. "Marshall..."

"Right. Right, right, right. Anyway, I was watching, ah, the, ah... James Bond marathon the other day and I got the idea for this. R-remember the tracker he used in Goldfinger? I-It transmitted to the car, the Astin Martin which is one of the coolest cars in movie history in my... humble opinion." He cleared his throat again. "Well, this is kind of like that only it's much smaller. It's inside of the stone in the center..." He pointed at it. "It emits a low-frequency beacon to the tune of the national anthem. Um, our national anthem. 'America the Beautiful.'"

Dixon frowned. "The national anthem is 'Star-Spangled Banner.'"

Marshall's face fell. "It is?" He turned to Sloane, then sighed. "Oh. Then... I guess I used the wrong song, then..."

Sloane closed his eyes. "Will Goetz know the difference?"

"Yes, yes, he definitely will," Marshall said, looking at the necklace. "I-I-I informed him that it would play America the Beautiful."

"Good," Sloane said, obviously tired of dealing with Marshall. "You have your mission. The file will tell you when and where to make contact with Goetz."

***************

BERLIN

The meet was set up in a club called Hafen, a large, loud, gay bar. Goetz had chosen the bar to maintain the upmost secrecy; the members of K-Directorate were not tolerant of homosexual employs (although several still managed to keep the secret surprisingly well). The upper echelon would not be caught dead in a bar frequented by - as they said - the lowest of the low. As usual, Dixon remained in the van, staying in contact with Sydney through a small earpiece.

She had dressed the part; tight leather pants that hung low and threatened to expose more of her than necessary, a tight halter top and a pair of high heels. Her brown hair had been dyed black and she wore heavy make-up to alter her features slightly. Her method of disguise was subtle and was getting better with every mission. She walked in, scanning the crowd for signs of Goetz. "No sign of him yet," she whispered to Dixon. "I'm walking to the bar."

The meet was simple. A small receiver had been sent ahead to Goetz in the form of a cell phone. It would ring when her necklace was in range and he would be able to find out where she was exactly by following a map on the display screen of the phone. Recognizing him wouldn't be a problem, what with Sloane having a satelitte photo of the man. She sat down on a stool, keeping her back straight and her eyes scanning. Goetz hadn't arrived; the standard procedure was to wait thirty minutes, then leave. They would try again tomorrow if he didn't show up. If he still didn't show, they returned home and told Sloane that Goetz had been compromised.

She had been waiting almost ten minutes when Dixon's voice crackled in her ear. "Looks like we got trouble, Syd."

"What's up?" she asked.

"Goetz just contacted SD-6 and told them that he can't make it to the meet. He's rescheduled for tomorrow, 0900." Sydney groaned and checked her watch. It was just after eleven at night. "No problem, though," Dixon said. "Go ahead and enjoy your night out. Get some dinner."

She looked at her reflection in the mirror behind the bar and smiled. She was several years younger than Dixon and knew the man worried about her like a daughter. She asked, "Are you sure?"

"Positive. Enjoy the nightlife." She wanted to remind him that this was a gay bar, but kept herself quiet. A night off in a beautiful foreign country was a night off in a beautiful foreign country. There was no rule saying she couldn't go someplace else...

She was finishing off her drink when a beautiful black woman slid onto the stool next to hers. "Beer," she said, her German accented by something Sydney couldn't put her finger on. The woman turned and looked at Sydney. "Guten Tag."

"Hi," Sydney smiled, replying in German and attempting to be as friendly as possible without coming on to the woman. She reached up and subtly turned off her mic and receiver... no need for Dixon to hear a woman hitting on her...

"My name is Ana," the woman continued, extending one slender hand.

Sydney took it and offered a weak shake. She replied in German, hoping she was as fluent as she remembered. "Mona," she said, giving herself an alias to protect her cover. "I-I'm not staying, actually. I was about to leave."

Ana smiled. "Why's that? Pretty girl like you could have all kinds of fun tonight." Her eyebrow arched suggestively and Sydney felt something quiver inside of her stomach.

"I've just... I'm not..." Not what? Not gay? How would she explain being in a gay bar if she was straight? "Not... very comfortable here."

Ana laughed and looked into the mirror behind the bar. "You look very comfortable to me, schön mädchen." She gently laid her hand atop Sydney's and stroked the fine bones of her hand.

Sydney swallowed sharply. A woman had just called her 'beautiful girl' in a gay bar. No need to panic... she'd been in far more dangerous situations than this...

"Besides," Ana continued. "If you're not comfortable here, perhaps we could retire to my apartment."

Sydney swallowed and again looked at her reflection in the mirror behind the bar. Sure, this was way out of Sydney Bristow's idea of normal. But was it out of the ordinary for her alter-ego of Mona, the lesbian German girl who was just looking for a drink and maybe a good time? She bit her lip and turned to look at Ana. She remembered talking with her friend Francie, who had claimed that Sydney would find any reason to not have a good time. Of course, accepting the come-ons of another woman probably wasn't what Francie had in mind...

"Okay," Sydney finally said. "I'd love a drink at your place."

"Excellent," Ana said, her voice soft and eyes twinkling.

---

Ana's bar was a few blocks away from Hafen. Sydney walked on the outside, keeping her eyes on the street for signs of Dixon's van or Goetz. She spotted Dixon once, the white SD-6 van parked in a dark alley with no signs of life. Ana kept glancing over at her and Sydney kept smiling nervously. They stepped into an ancient building, ignoring the landlord who was busy trying to reattach a door to a frame, and found the elevator. Sydney stepped inside, clasping her hands in front of her as the doors closed. Once they were alone alone, Ana turned and pinned Sydney to the wall. She brushed her lips over Sydney's cheek, causing her to gasp. Ana's lips closed around Sydney's earlobe and she whispered, "Have you ever been intimate with a woman, Mona?"

"N-no," Sydney whispered. It was the truth, other than a few drunken interludes where she and Francie had helped each other 'cool off' after a date. She shuddered and leaned forward, resting her head on Ana's shoulder as the taller woman nibbled on her ear. Ana's fingers found the catch of Sydney's leather pants and pulled it free, sliding inside and feeling the warmth captured by the leather.

The elevator dinged and Ana stepped back, looping her fingers in the material of Sydney's pants and pulling her forward. "Come, mädchen..."

Ana was wearing a simple cotton shirt and blue jeans. As she entered the small apartment, she undid the button on the jeans and let them fall. She was taller than Sydney, by at least two or three inches. She kicked the pants across the room and pulled the shirt over her head, letting her dark brown hair tumble to her shoulders. She turned to Sydney and licked her lips, resting her hands on her breasts. Sydney stared at the plain white cotton of the other woman's underwear and blinked. "You move fast, don't you?" she whispered in English. She quickly corrected herself and repeated in German.

Ana smiled, either not noticing or not caring about the slip in Sydney's language, and noted, "You are wearing too much clothing."

Sydney smiled and said, "The zipper is in the back." She turned, moving her hair out of the way. Ana stepped forward and slipped her arms under Sydney's, cupping the shorter girl's breasts. Syd gasped as she felt Ana's full lips brushing over the back of her neck. She pulled the zipper down slowly and then ran her hands over the warm flesh of Sydney's bare back. Sydney shivered and turned, shrugging out of the halter top and tossing it aside. She was a little more exposed than Ana; the halter hadn't allowed her to wear a bra, so she was topless in front of this stranger.

"You are beautiful," Ana whispered, stepping forward and cupping Sydney's breasts again. This time, she lightly tugged on the erect nipples and smiled. "Very beautiful." She brought one hand up to cup the back of Sydney's head and pull her forward. Sydney tilted her head up and parted her lips, breathing heavily. Ana smiled and gently kissed Sydney's lips.

Sydney's eyes remained open during the kiss, blinking rapidly as she tried to control her breathing. Ana's tongue flickered against her lips and she found herself opening to the other woman. Ana explored for a moment, then pulled back and licked her lips. "Would you like to see me?" she asked, indicating her underwear.

"Yes, please," Sydney said, her voice shaking and her German accent slipping again.

Again, If Ana noticed the change, she didn't say anything. She slowly undid the clasp of her bra and slid it off her shoulders. "Come," she whispered. "Take it off of me."

Sydney walked forward and gently tugged it away. Ana gasped and lowered her arms, arching her back towards the shorter woman. Sydney's eyes widened and she ran her hand over the other woman's breasts, scraping her fingernail lightly over the erect nipples and flattening her hand against the chocolate-colored skin. The flesh seemed wet, sticky almost, but Sydney counted that off on the fact they had just come from a bar, been walking for a while, and were both very excited at the moment. A little sweat wasn't anything to complain about. Ana hissed sharply and then ran her hands through Sydney's dark black hair. "Mm, Mona... kiss me."

It took Sydney a moment to remember she was Mona, but when she caught on, she didn't hesitate. She straightened and pressed her lips to Ana's chin, sliding her lips up to capture Ana's full bottom lip. Ana giggled and kissed Sydney, slowly dragging her tongue along the raven-haired woman's upper lip. When they separated, Ana said, "You learn quick, Mona."

"I have a good teacher," Sydney whispered.

Ana laughed, throwing her head back. Sydney took the invitation and kissing her lover's throat, tenderly exploring the flesh with her tongue. She was flying! This was the most erotic thing she had ever experienced! She pulled back and unzipped her pants completely, peeling them away from her legs. Ana stepped back and watched with interested, fine eyebrows rising in anticipation. When Sydney finished removing the pants, she hooked her thumbs in the straps of her panties and yanked them down.

When she straightened, Ana said, "You shave."

Sydney nodded nervously... She always shaved on missions where her hair would be dyed. It was a stupid thing, but she figured if something like this came up, she wouldn't have to come up with a lie about her real hair color. She walked over to Ana and said, "Take off your panties."

Ana grinned. "Taking the initiative?"

"Yes," Sydney said. Ana stepped back and skimmed her panties down her long legs. When she was bent over, Sydney rushed the woman and knocked her onto the bed, scrambling around and pinning her to the mattress. For a moment, Ana looked... odd. A mixture of terror and anger played in her eyes. She was gritting her teeth and had balled her hands into fists. The moment passed quickly, but it was enough to make Sydney question if maybe Ana had been hurt or even raped in the past.

No time for deep, internal exploration at the moment, though. Ana raised her head and tenderly kissed Sydney's column of a neck, nipping at the soft white skin. Sydney cupped Ana's face and brought it up, kissing her passionately. She was getting into this whole idea of kissing women... Ana brought one leg up and pressed it against Sydney's warm center. Ana hissed, "I love shaved women... so sexy... so smooth..."

Sydney closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip. She rolled her neck and lowered her head, kissing Ana's cheek and then nuzzling her neck. Was this real? Was she REALLY doing all of this? Making love to a woman she had just met? Having sex with someone who didn't even know her real name?! She found a nipple and closed her lips around it, her mind reeling at the thought that, just thirty minutes earlier, she had been working. She had been working to make the world a better place. Now, she was writhing around in bed with a naked stranger.

She bit down softly on Ana's nipple, causing the other woman to moan. "Aha...," she whispered. "Gooood... now, cum for me, Mona," Ana whispered.

Lifting her head and pressing her lips to Ana's ear, Sydney decided to break cover. It was a slight break, but she knew she would be reprimanded if it ever got out. Hell, she'd be reprimanded if ANY of this night ever got out. "My name isn't Mona," she whispered, flicking her tongue into Ana's ear. "Call me Sydney." Once the words were out of her mouth, she regretted him. She never broke cover. NEVER... Of course, she *also* had never had sex on a mission, but that was neither here nor there.

"Sydney," Ana breathed, smiling widely. Sydney didn't exactly get the joke, but she returned the smile. "Sydney," Ana gasped. She pressed her leg harder against the other woman's sex. Sydney gasped and threw her head back. Her last lover, Noah Hicks, had been all about the kissing and fondling part of sex. He had taken hours to eventually make his way to where she wanted him. Now, here was Ana, getting her off as fast as possible. She didn't want overly romantic gestures during sex, but she also wanted it to last longer than a song. "Hold on," she gasped. "Not yet..."

"Yes," Ana argued. "Now."

Sydney groaned and threw her head back, unable to stop the reactions her body was experiencing. "I'm cumming, Ana..."

Ana looked down and bit her lip. "Yesss," she hissed. "Yes, my little Sydney..."

When her orgasm finally subsided, Sydney collapsed next to Ana on the bed. "That was amazing," she panted, looking at the ceiling. She was out of breath, gasping when she had barely done anything. Ana rolled over on top of her and spread her legs. Sydney groaned and allowed the woman to make a nest between her thighs. "Again? What about you?"

"I don't need anything," Ana said softly, lapping at Sydney's folds. "I'm just killing time..."

'Killing time'? Sydney raised her head and said, "Wha-what? Killing time until what?"

"Until the drug kicks in," she said, nibbling on Sydney's pussy lips. Sydney dropped back to the pillows and closed her eyes. She was hearing wrong; that was all. She bit her lip and shook her head. "Thank you for finally licking my nipples," Ana said, her German accent sliding into a deeper Russian. "I thought you'd never get around to it."

Sydney's eyes opened wide and she looked down at the dark face between her legs. "What?"

Ana licked once more and lifted her head. "You failed in your mission, Agent Bristow. It was disappointingly easy."

Sydney could only looked shocked as the drug kicked in and her head rolled limply to the side... She'd been drugged! She closed her eyes and felt consciousness slip away. All she could think was 'I hope Dad doesn't hear about how I died...'

---

The next morning, Sydney had come to in the same bed, handcuffed to the bedposts. The couple who owned the apartment had screamed bloody murder and called the police, but luckily Dixon had gotten there first. He had arrived at 1023, almost an hour and a half after the meeting was scheduled. She had dressed quickly, unable to make eye contact with him as she made her way back to the van. She asked about the meet with Goetz, but Dixon had simply shaken his head.

When they returned to SD-6, she learned everything that had happened. K-Directorate had learned of their leak and his plans. A male agent claiming to be from SD-6 had approached Goetz and told him Sloane had rescheduled the meet. The same man had imitated Goetz and called SD-6 to reschedule. Another agent of K-Directorate - an agent named Ana Espinosa - had intercepted the SD-6 agent sent for the meet - Sydney - and coerced her into bed. Once Sydney was drugged, Ana easily found the tracker and wore it to the meet with Goetz. She went through with the meeting, learned what he knew and what he was planning to give over to SD-6, and then shot him point blank in the head.

The mission, suffice to say, had gone horribly wrong. Sloane was disgusted with them, Marshall was pouting because his toy had been stolen and probably destroyed and Dixon was angry at Sydney for leaving him in the dark. Sydney was angry at herself for being so foolish. 'Never again,' she swore.

It had taken a few weeks for everything to get back to normal, but one thing never changed. Ana Espinosa and Sydney Bristow had, from that day on, been mortal enemies.

---

Back in the now. Sydney screams as Faber's stilleto pierces her arm. Finally, she shakes her head and says, "Aren't you done yet?"

Faber laughs, unaware she was talking to someone else. "I am just beginning, schön mädchen..."

She winces, remembering when Ana had called her that. Dixon speaks into her ear and says, "I've got the files, Syd. End that fool."

She smiles and turns to Faber. "Finally." She pulls her hand out of the loop and brings her fist up, knocking his teeth together. Faber growls and tries to gather his wits before she can get up. Her right hand and legs are all still bound, but she doesn't need them yet. She reaches out and grabs the end of Faber's walking-stick, a ridiculously ornate horse head carved into the grip. She brings it around and jabs him once in the stomach, then swings the cane like a bat, catching his temple with the horse carving. Blood arcs across the cement floor under his face and he collapses in pain. She unlashes herself from the table as he whimpers painfully, cradling his face in his hands. Torturers were also unbelieveable pansies.

She jumps off the table and stands over him for a moment, examining her wounds. "Son of a bitch," she whispers. She turns and glares down at him, giving him one final kick to the side. "You ruined my favorite shirt."

Turning, she leaves the torture chamber and makes her way to the meet with Dixon. One lapse in judgement per country, she decided. On that level... she was doing pretty damn good.

~End~


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