Disclaimer: I do not own Alias. If I did, however, there would be much more than five seasons!!

A/N: Um, not much to say other than please review after reading this! It's my first shot at an Alias fanfic, so I wanna know what everyone thinks. This one shot is in the POV of Irina, during her stint as Laura Bristow.

In Hazel Eyes

Rated K


"Sydney."

The name falls from my lips almost like a song; a melody. I repeat the word for effect, relishing in the euphony of it and the foreign emotions it calls up from the inner depths of my soul.

"Sydney, Sydney, Sydney."

The name of a child that should never have been born, who existed only as a means to an end.

The name of my infant daughter, currently nestled against the crook of my arm, with sparce brown hair matted to her small forehead and a body so small she seemed utterly helpless. But my Sydney's a lively one, oh yes, I could tell that from the time she was in my womb. Sydney liked to kick and move, constantly- she was always ready to enter the world, stubborn, not wanting to be trapped.

Just like me. Trapped in an alias called Laura: Laura Bristow, a loving wife to Jack Bristow and the new mother of Sydney Bristow.

This life is a lie, a contrivance, like everything I do seems to be nowadays.

Even having a child.

Sydney shifts in her sleep, that blissful baby slumber, nustling in closer to my warmth and I frown. What a terrible mistake I have made, I think, touching my daughter's curled fingers.

I thought this would be easy. A game, like everyone and everything I played as an agent. Get in, seduce Jack Bristow, have his child to ensure his loyalty, and get out again with all the information I squeezed out of him. What I fool I was, laboring under such a delusion! I never accounted for love. For Jack. And I never accounted for Sydney. Having her was my fatal flaw, the worst out of all of my many mistakes, because I am a mother now. And that means I have a child who needs me.

I have a choice to make: be an agent, or a mother. It cannot be both- it's either fail at one or two. And I know, however much I wish it wasn't so, that I will- I have to- fail at being a mother.

Just as I decide this, Sydney begins mewing and wriggling. Her eyelids open to reveal hazel depths: the perfect combination of color from my light brownish-green hazel and Jack's dark, brownish-black hazel.

I always knew Sydney was special from the moment the doctors placed her into my arms, so fragile and bearing rare hazel eyes at birth instead of the typical baby's blue. And they are the same eyes I gaze into now.

In that moment, when hazel connect, the world seems to disappear and I am assaulted with guilt and ponderment over how different things could be.

If I didn't have to leave Sydney and Jack one day.

If I was the mother Sydney needed; deserved.

If the KGB never existed, never recruited me, never stole away my life and warped me into someone I hardly recognize anymore.

If I weren't so loyal to myself, my goals, my endgame. To Rambaldi, the prophet and inventor who has so utterly captivated me.

If I really was Laura Bristow, the loving school teacher everyone thought I was.

But then Sydney looks away, and reality crashes in on my constricted heart. I have a job to do, and things like idealism, wishful thinking, and love are nothing but road blocks on the way to the final objective.

Sydney gurgles something in a sort of baby whine and catches my eye once more. Tears well up unbidden in my own and a feeling I can't explain washes over my broken heart.

I have a job to do, yes, but that doesn't mean I will love my daughter any less. Nor does it mean that I will fail to protect her if the need arises. It only means I must be ready to let go of her when the time comes, and willing to sacrifice this life for the one I really lead... as Irina Derevko. Not some made up woman.

A sob tries to break out of my throat but I stifle it. This is the way it has to be.

Nothing, not even the terrible yet beautiful mistake of Sydney Anne Bristow, my daughter, can get in the way.

Nothing.


"You should know something, Sydney. I never wanted to have a child. The KGB demanded it. They knew it would ensure your father's allegiances to me. You were simply a means to an end.

And then, when the doctor put you in my arms, and I looked at you... so fragile... All I could think was: How could I have made a such terrible mistake?

And at that moment I was sure of one thing: I couldn't be an agent and a mother. I'd either fail at one or both. And I chose to fail at being a mother" (Irina Derevko, from the episode "Maternal Instinct").


A/N: Thank you all for reading and please review!

AngelMoon Girl