Teaser: Late at night, Marina receives a frantic phone call...
Series: Nothing to Write Home About, Story III
Crossover: Alias/The L Word
Characters: Marina, Sydney, Shane, Sark

It was three-thirty in the morning when Marina decided to show Shane her bruises.

It wasn't that Marina tried to hide them. She knew her assets, was quite aware of how the line of her shoulders and collar bone were nicely set off by her toned, sleek biceps. Bare-sleeved shirts suited her, and the weather had taken a rather hot turn, at least in comparison to the rain that had ravaged California the week before. It made sense that Marina wore sexy, no-sleeved shirts. But for some reason, even though Marina had been serving coffee all day, and liquor all night, no one else had noticed the bruises.

Shane had caught them at about ten-thirty that morning, as Marina leaned over with her expresso, a tight smile on her face that seemed just a little weird. But Alice and Dana were there with her, and as much as Shane loved her friends, she knew the minute she asked Marina about the dark-colored marks on her forearms, she would spark up the Lesbian Gossip Chain.

Marina wasn't big on that. Neither was Shane, come to think of it. And they both had had more than their share, thanks to their recent choice of sex-partners.

So she waited until now – when the crowd had cleared out, and the Planet was quiet. She knew Marina would be up – they were both hopeless insomniacs, and it had become something of a habit, to stay late, keep Marina company when she felt like it, drinking coffee and watching Marina drink tea, talking about shit or nothing at all.

Tonight, she had gone through one cup, before she let out a sigh, brushed her hair out of her eyes, and leaned forward, motioning with her hands. "Let's see 'em."

Marina hesitated, at least for a moment, before she simply placed her tea down and stretched out her limb, letting Shane study it.

It was ugly. Bruises going purple, marring Marina's smooth skin with angry fingerprints.

"Fuck." Shane whistled slightly, shrugging and letting Marina take her hand back. "Who did it?"

"Tim found out."

Marina was one of the few people that Shane could have an actual conversation with without having to use every fucking word. It was refreshing, to spout three words, and immediately figure out the whole story.

Shane glanced up, processed Marina's enigmatic, resigned face, and nodded once, mouth pursing as she leaned back into her chair, foot on the desk. Jenny's fiancé Tim seemed like an all-right guy, but Shane had been with a few straight girls (Okay, more than a few), and it was not a surprise that Tim wouldn't take the fact that his fiancé was screwing Marina very well.

"So it's over."

A flicker of something creased over Marina's face, almost too quick for Shane to catch. If it was pain or disgust, she didn't know, but it was different.

Reaching for her coffee, Shane made sure to be overly dismissive, keeping the carelessness in her tone as she muttered, "Just as well. Fran's coming back in a week, right?"

"Yes," Marina said, a beat later. One hand was touching the other wrist, fingering the bruises, an unreadable expression on her face.

Shane blinked, swallowed down hard. "Aww, come on Marina. You had to know it would happen like this. Straight girls always go back to the guy. You know that."

The look Marina gave her would have wilted lesser women. "Of course I know that."

It was weird, and new, and not something Shane was entirely used to – seeing Marina this way.

Not knowing what to think, she did the thing she did the best: dry sarcastic humor.

"Fuck," she began, chortling slightly. "You sure as hell picked the wrong chick to screw, Marina."

That, at the very least, got a smile, as Marina let her pearly whites show and responded with an airy, "At least mine don't put signs up with my pictures on them all over Los Angeles."

"Hey – I took care of my stalker sans bruises, babe. And I got some okay sex out of it." Marina rolled her eyes. "And besides, what about that other chick you had on the side?"

"What other chick?" Marina asked, looking genuinely confused.

She couldn't have forgotten her already.

"You know- hot? Brown hair – deep, dark eyes? What was her name..." Shane leaned back, remembering the pretty earnest face. She snapped her fingers. "Sydney!"

"Sydney?" Marina seemed almost taken aback by the name, amused smile floating on her lips at the thought.

Shane winked, grinning in a kind of a leer. "Yeah. She was cute."

"You think so?"

"Fuck, yeah – I'd do her."

Marina grinned. "I'll make sure to tell her that."

The quiet around them was broken by a loud, piercing ring.

Shane blinked, bringing the coffee down from her lips. "Who the fuck would call at three in the fucking morning?"

Even Marina looked slightly annoyed, glaring at the phone as it beeped from its cradle.

Being closer, Shane shrugged once, wrapping her palm over it and hoisting it to her ear. "The Planet – we're fucking closed."

There was a pause, a quick breath, and Shane was ready to hang up when there was a short, raspy, "Is Marina there!?"

Shane's mouth dropped open slightly, a twinkle of recognition flowing over her as she locked eyes with a suddenly still Marina. "May I ask who's speaking?"

"Shane?" Pounding, shouts, another heavy breath. "It's Sydney-" she was cut off by something that sounded suspiciously like gunshots that jerked Shane in her seat. "I really need to speak to her now!"

Shane licked her lips, ready to hand over the phone when Marina reached over the desk and jerked it away from her, bringing it to her ear. "'Allo?"

Marina was known for her enigmatic expressions, her ability to hide behind her passive grace. Now, her entire face seemed to tighten, shut down into some unknown emotion before she suddenly slammed the phone down and jerked open the right side of her dresser.

"Come on," she snapped, lifting out a revolver. "We're going to have company."

"What THE HELL?!" Shane shot up so fast she nearly tumbled backwards with her chair. "What the fuck is that?!"

Marina didn't answer, only cocked it easily with a click and stepped around the desk, heading straight for the café entrance.

Shane had no choice but to follow.

It was when they had reached the doorway into the café that the crash came – loud, harsh, and with it, a figure shattering the window – lean body splintering the glass and landing hard on one of Marina's tables, slipping over it with a sickening jolt.

"FUCK!" Shane whispered, grabbing a hold of Marina's elbow, flinching back instinctively.

Marina didn't move, eyes darting from the figure on the floor to the shadow jumping through the open window, coming after it.

Without a word, she took a step back, and pushed Shane back into the entrance. "Don't make a sound," she hissed.

Shane didn't argue. Marina was taller, and it made it hard to see beyond her, but the fact that her friend was watching what was going on in her planet with dark, unreadable eyes, and a tense, non-trembling body, and that gun in her hand, really fucking made up for the fact that Shane couldn't see shit.

She could hear, however. Palms wrapping around Marina's biceps, she got onto her tiptoes, peering over her shoulder into the darkness to see two shadowy figures.

Marina's hand was on her gun, leveled into the darkness, but she stayed in her place, keeping Shane behind her.

"Did you really believe that this was a good idea?" came the voice. It was a guy, a British guy, smooth and with a sing-song voice, like he was teasing the person on the floor.

Marina visibly tensed, and Shane blinked, taking in the figure on the floor, blonde hair shining in the moonlight, face accented with black-red scratches on her arms, and face.

Shane sucked in her breath in bewildered recognition.

Sydney, Marina's Sydney, almost unrecognizable in her blonde-wig and tight leather jeans and vest, staggered to her feet, leveling her gaze at the equally blonde man who stood before her.

"At the time it seemed like the best option," she whispered back, wiping the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand, before she suddenly spun and kicked a chair straight into his face.

"SHIT!" Shane whispered, ducking back as it hit him with a thud, bringing him down for a second, enough for Sydney to suddenly be on him like a fucking panther.

It was then that Marina stepped forward, pushing Shane to her with a hand around her arm, whispering fiercely, "Find a weapon," and shoving her into the direction of the bar, as she discreetly stepped into the room.

Considering the shit that was going down, Shane found herself remarkably composed, nearly dropping three glasses, and stumbling over two chairs as she watched with wide eyes as the blonde cracked a heel across Sydney's already bruised face, sending her reeling over more chairs and tables.

Marina, slowly moving across the room, keeping in the shadows, gave her an obvious 'hurry the fuck up!' look, and Shane immediately scrambled, reaching for the first thing she found, coming around the bar with breathless pants.

"Uh, uh!" The blond man smiled, forcing Sydney still when he pointed a gun in her face. "You know, Sydney, I've really enjoyed our cat and mouse games. Truly I have, but don't you think it's time we let bygones be bygones and put an end to all of this?"

"You're not trying to renegotiate your stupid old offer, are you?" she spat back, a little blood dripping from her mouth.

"Not really, no - found someone new. Better than you, Sydney – she's got no heart."

"A perfect match," Sydney snapped.

He shrugged boyishly, before the gun cocked, and he moved closer. "I don't need you anymore, Sydney-"

"Julian, don't." It was Marina's, who came into the moonlight from the shadows and caught his attention with the gun pointed straight at his chest.

He hesitated, but it was all Sydney needed, before she kicked at the gun, sending it flying.

"Why you little bit-"

And then Shane cracked the coffee pot straight over the back of his head, shattering it into pieces.

No one made a move except 'Julian', who fell to the floor with a slump, landing in a heap at Shane's feet.

Marina moved first, kneeling over whoever the hell the Sydney girl was, tilting her chin to inspect her face.

"Are you all right?" she demanded.

"I’m fine," Sydney snapped, jerking her chin away.

Then they both stared at Shane, who at the moment, was busy rubbing her fingers into her hair, waiting for them to explain what the fuck was going on.

"A coffee pot?!" Marina said finally.

She pffted her, stepping back to nudge at the guy with her toe. "It worked, didn't it?"

"That was a very expensive coffee pot," Marina said, irritated as she stared at the shards mournfully.

"Um... Marina? Focus?" Sydney staggered to her feet. Grimacing as she blinked at the blood on her fingertips, she pulled at her wig, releasing her brown hair from the confinement.

"On what? My window?" Marina asked, stepping over the man's body, around Shane, and looking positively wounded at the sight of all the shattered glass.

"Or maybe the fact that an internationally wanted terrorist is lying unconscious on your floor?" Sydney remarked dryly.

Shane coughed, stepping back a full two feet. "A what?!"

Sydney swiveled her focus to her for half a second, before Marina reclaimed it by turning again. "Why was Julian trying to kill you?"

"Who the hell is Julian?!"

"Sark!" Marina said, and suddenly launched into a tirade that sounded something like Italian. Shane stepped closer to Julian, or Sark, or whoever the hell he was, once again poking at him with her foot before looking between Marina and the Sydney chick.

Who was obviously fucking insane, because whatever the hell Marina had said, Sydney just jumped right back at her, speaking in the same damned foreign language that Marina was spouting.

Sark moaned beneath her, and Shane gave a small sigh. Was now a good time to freak out? Because Shane had had her share of bad experiences, but really, there was something terribly surreal about being in the Planet with a terrorist, a whatever-the-hell Sydney was, and a who-ever-the-hell Marina really was.

"Ay, porque eres tan torpe!" Marina suddenly sputtered, turning back with a huff.

"I’m dumb?!" Sydney snapped back. "You're the one who wants to release a homicidal psychopath on the street!"

"Uh... guys?" Shane waved slightly, trying to catch their attention. "Not to break into the lovers quarrel, but... he might wake up soon. Shouldn't we... I dunno, tie him up or something."

"Well, why don't you ask the genius," Sydney muttered, sinking into a chair and wincing as she inspected a bleeding line on her arm.

"Oh, nonononono," Marina responded back just as icily, "I'm not the super spy. He's your problem now."

Sydney narrowed her eyes. "I have a solution."

"I told you that will not work."

"It will too work!"

And that started them off again, Marina spouting something like French or something, and Sydney following her right into it.

Shane sighed, kneeling down and looking at the Sark guy before pushing off her haunches, finding a chair, and carefully placing it over his body, so that bottom rung just covered his adam's apple, keeping him effectively pinned.

Until she figured out what the fuck was going on, at least.

"Uh, hey!" Raising her arm, like a student waiting to be addressed in class, she cocked an impatient eyebrow. "Can we have a translation for the chick who doesn't speak every language known to man?"

Sydney, visibly frustrated, paced back and forth before she shoved an exasperated hand in Marina's direction. "She won't let me kill Sark."

Shane mouth dropped open. "What?"

"It's RUDE!" Marina sputtered back.

"Wait, whoa – killing who? Who the hell is this guy?"

"You cannot kill him," Marina said, arms crossed and posture set. "You can not. My mother would kill me."

"Your mother would – wait – what?!" Sydney's eyes had narrowed into slits. "Are you saying? How the hell did you know his first name?"

"I'm surprised you didn’t," she said right back.

Sydney's glare was searching, as if she was trying to process everything Marina said. Suddenly her eyes widened in horror and her mouth plastered to her face. "Oh, please don't say he's your brother, please don’t say he's your brother-pleasedon'tsay-"

"He's not my brother," Marina interrupted.

"Oh, thank God," Sydney whispered.

"He's yours."

"WHAT?!" Sydney and Shane sputtered at the same time. "The dude who just tried to kill her?" Shane added, pointing down at the man she was still sitting on top of.

"It's not what you think," Marina said, running an agitated palm through her hair. "He's not even adopted. My mother-your mother- somebody's mother – Look, whatever happened – we ended up with him for a while."

"We?" Sydney repeated.

"When I didn't go back into the family business, he took my place- Look, Sydney – I wiped his bottom when he was three. I cannot let you kill him. At least not in the Planet. Out on the streets? Fair game."

Sydney was completely still, looking like a dismantled robot on information overload.

Suddenly she shook herself out of it, dismissing that new information with a "Whatever. Look – I'm not planning on killing him, okay? But it might be a good idea, just to arrest him and-"

"No!"

"Marina-"

"Sydney, the minute they come here, they will begin to ask questions, and you know-"

"I won't tell them where I got him!"

"But he will!"

"Um, hello? Just who the hell are you?" Shane suddenly sputtered, glancing at Sydney. "Marina?"

Marina swallowed, frustration getting the best of her before her shoulders dropped and she turned away. "She's my cousin."

That was unexpected.

Shane clucked her tongue, glanced between the two of them, and suddenly it made sense. "Huh."

"Does she really need to know this?"

"Would you like to explain it any other way?"

Sydney sighed, glanced at the still immobile Sark, and turned away.

"So you're really not screwing her," Shane mused.

Immediately, Sydney whirled back, pinning Shane with her goggle-eyed stare. "What?!"

"Sydney," Marina tried.

"You thought that I – Oh, my God – it doesn't matter," Sydney said, eyes rolling into the top of her head. "The police will be here anyway, Marina, why not just-"

"I don't want the CIA involved."

"I can't just let him go, he's a psychotic!" Sydney snapped.

"I never said it would make sense," Marina responded stiffly.

That killed the conversation completely, as Sydney once again began to pace, back of her hand pressed to her mouth as she obviously searched for a solution. "Fine," she said finally. "What do YOU suggest?"

Apparently, Marina had only just realized she still had the gun in her hand, because she carefully replaced the safety and dropped it on a nearby table. She looked just as confused. "I don't know," she said finally.

And it was then, that Shane had a thought.

"Uh... guys?" Smiling slightly, she felt just a little bit shy, when she poked at Sark again with her foot and said, "I have an idea."

--

"Is this legal?"

"Since when is anything you do legal?"

"Guys? Two words: Shut. Up!" Shane rolled her eyes in irritation, straddling Sark to get a better angle. "Tilt his head back."

Sydney obeyed. "Is this going to hurt him?" Suddenly she blinked. "What am I talking about? I don't care."

Shane grinned. "It's just rufies. He'll wake up disoriented, weirded out. Max said he'll keep an eye on him. It's cool."

Marina looked almost disgusted as she glanced around her. "I cannot believe I am in a men's gay bar."

"As opposed to a women's gay bar?" Sydney retorted.

"We are cleaner," Marina replied dryly.

Sark looked a little glassy-eyed, but he took the rest of the drink Shane offered him, muttering something about 'Fracking nannies' before slumping back against Sydney's chest.

"Marina, are you sure he didn't recognize you?" Sydney breathed.

Marina looked uncertain, arms crossed as she came forward, inspecting Sark's boyish face. "I don't know. It was a very long time ago, and he was just a child. He was always crazy, though. He put a cat in a microwave. What kind of person puts a cat in a microwave?"

"The crazy kind," Sydney sniffed.

"That'll do it," Shane said, nodding once and slipping off his lap as Sydney immediately released him, mechanically rubbing her fingers across his scalp before retreating to stand next to Marina. Nodding to the man in the corner, Shane grinned. "You rock, Max."

"He's pretty," Max said, staring down at him.

Shane glanced at Marina, who looked positively bored, to Sydney who just looked annoyed, and shrugged. "If you say so, man. Listen, thanks a lot."

"I'll take care of it," Max promised. "He'll wake up in the arms of the prettiest go-go boy I have. And if he still wants to leave, I'll make sure he goes out the front door – right where Javier will be stationed."

"Who's Javier?" Sydney asked.

"Closeted gay cop who sticks around to deter gay bashers," Shane responded.

"Oh." The comment disturbed her slightly, but she kept her mouth shut after that.

It wasn't until they slid into Marina's convertible that anyone really said anything, and even then, it was Shane that spoke, buried in the back seat, looking from Marina and her passive face to Sydney and her bruised one.

"Wow. So... you guys do this a lot?"

There was silence, before Sydney and Marina gave a slow swivel to meet each other's stare.

The laughter erupted before Shane was ready for it, and all she could do was watch with dumbstruck amazement as Sydney and Marina nearly hyperventilated with giggles, heaving in for breath and wheezing in the process.

Shane sucked in her breath, slumping back in her seat and crossing her arms, dismissing them both.

"You both are fucking crazy," she muttered.

That only made them laugh harder.

--

Shane had sorely begun to regret signing up for clean-up duty. Marina seemed to be the one having the most fun, straddled between Sydney's legs at the bar, ignoring Sydney's winces and whispers as she held a bloody cloth to her face.

"The glass got you good," she said in a low tone. Shane shook her head, dropping another glass shard into the trash can.

"Sark and I have our moments," Sydney said. "It's allright – I'll get stitched up at work."

"I'm sure you will," Marina murmured. "But I don’t want you bleeding to death on the way there."

Sydney smiled as widely as her split lip would allow, before she fell into silence, letting Marina work.

"What must have it been like," she asked suddenly. "To know that side of your mother – to be that young and know what they did? To be aware of our world?"

Shane didn't know if there was wistful longing in her voice or genuine sympathy for Marina. Maybe it was a little of both, because Marina's movements froze, and although her hair curtained into her face, hiding her expression from anyone but Sydney, her words were gentle, matter-of-fact.

"I wasn't," she responded. "I spent most of my youth in boarding school."

Shane pursed her lips. That explained the gazillion languages.

Sydney nodded, glancing down as Marina turned away, apparently finished, dropping her bloody rag into the tainted bowl of water.

"I write letters," she said after a minute. "To my mother. They help."

Shane found herself pausing, taking the moment to reflect on the time she asked Marina what she was writing, late that night.

"The things I do not say," she responded.

Huh.

Marina took a deep breath, and continued. "I guess I make myself believe that my mother reads them." Sydney was riveted, eyes only on Marina. "In them, I have my answers. I have my relationship with my mother – even if I never know if she will read them."

The stare between the cousins was long, intense, easily mistaken for sexual if you didn't know better, and Shane knew better now.

It caught her attention. She was so focused on the intimate moment between family, she forgot about the shard of glass in her fingers until it fell and smacked against the floor, causing a loud crack that had them both staring at her.

"Sorry," she said immediately, ducking her head down.

--

When Sydney left, Shane felt she was due some sort of explanation and Marina, after dealing with the cops that showed up and the good-Samaritan neighbors who oohed and ahhed over the window, gave it to her, in the back room early the next morning, while both were bleary eyed and nursing coffee.

"Wow," she said in the silence that followed.

"Yeah," Marina agreed.

"So she's a spy," Shane proclaimed.

"For the United States, yes," Marina said, nodding.

"Shit." Shane took that in, glancing back in the direction of the café. "That's kinda cool." Marina's smirk matched her own. "So wait – does that mean your whole family is like... you know-"

"Internationally wanted criminals," Marina confirmed, taking another sip of coffee. "Which means you can't tell anyone, Shane."

Shane grinned, eyebrow cocking. "And by anyone you mean..."

"Alice."

"Alice," Shane repeated. Yeah, she knew what Alice would do if she found out. It would be funny, but only for her. "No, it's cool," she assured her. Marina's skeptical look made her add, "No, really. I’m all about the secret pasts." Marina shrugged, and respectfully didn't press about that. Shane smiled, leaning back in her chair, contemplating. "So... then she's single, right?"

At that, Marina shook her head. "She's straight, Shane."

Shane grinned. "Famous last words."

--

Mom-

I don't really know quite what to say. Even now I feel stupid for doing this, but... There are things that I'd like to say to you. Without deception. Without malice. I've been so long without ... I don't know how to write anything else.

I don't understand why you deceived me. Why you deceived Dad. I don't know what kind of love that is. But for the first time in my life – I believe you really love me.

It's why I’m writing this letter. I don't really have anything to write about, but-

It's time I write the things I can't say.

I'll be in touch.

Sydney Bristow.

FIN.