Reflections

Note: This is not trying to explain the events leading up to "The Telling's" shocking finale. It's instead an idea that I have been playing with for a while. Welcome to the Snowman's world. Some would expect Noah's still living; no. He died. But Francie's good. Sloane is still on the run with Sark, but Irina's on hot pursuit, working fully with the CIA. Jack has retired, and occasionally does some research or gets into contact with necessary operatives. Will is head analyst, Sydney and Vaughn are dating, SD-6 is still around… I don't think anything else needs explaining…

Walking through Credit Dauphine. And Noah was beside her. They entered the elevator, and he continued their conversation. "Syd, you think I'm kidding? I'm not kidding. I want you to go away with me."

"My point is, what happened the other night... it was just too soon," Syd replied

"Russia's got a hell of a bootleg software industry," Noah tried to convince her. "When I was there, I figured out a way of skimming money off the Russian mob."

"What are you talking about?" Syd said, and began to realize it could work.

"I got a lot of money hidden in several offshore accounts. Syd, I'm getting out. I'm sick of lying to everyone I know. I'm at the point where the idea of just walking away from all these people that are supposed to be my good friends - my best friends - is a relief. Now you tell me you've never felt that way."

The elevator reached their floor, and they entered that annoyingly bright white room.

"I'm just saying that I've got someone helping me out. I'm not kidding, Syd. I want you to come with me."

And it flashed red.

"I can't tell you where, but I can tell you that we won't need locks on the doors and you will learn how to surf," Noah said, trying to argue every point.

And Sydney, unintentionally, blurted out her response.

"I'd love it. Let's go!"

She awoke with a start, and sat straight up. She had been having the same dream, repeatedly, for the last week and half now. Every time, she had a different response. When the dreams started, Sydney had refused. But lately, her responses were getting more and more positive. And she couldn't help but think that she could do it. Run away. To an island where nobody would find her. Where she could live without having to know how to break every bone in an enemy's body.

A place in the Atlantic ocean, preferably.

She sat up, and began to plan it out…

***(The next morning)

"Morning, sleepy head!" Francie called out, getting up from the couch, as Sydney emerged from her room. Syd could tell that she was trying to readjust her top, and that could only mean…

"Yeah, good to see you. It's like 12 o'clock…" Will called out a little confused. The distinct sign of a zipper being zipped could be heard, and he too got up.

"We left you some breakfast; I was too lazy to cook this morning, but oh well!"

Syd looked at the table, and there was a carton of white rice, a bottle of soy sauce, and a bowl of chicken wings…

"You're a lazy ass, I hope you know that Francie," Syd yelled to the couple. She slowly began to eat the rice, but it was cold and hard as a block. As the rice was microwaving, Sydney looked around her apartment in regret. She would miss it, but she was determined to leave; she was sick and tired of a double life. Will noticed her distraught, and asked, "You okay over there?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking about… the bank," Sydney told him, trailing off.

"Oh shit! I've gotta go write something for my magazine!" he said, hurrying off, and grabbing his coat off the hook, and he went out the door.

"Francie, I've gotta talk to you about something."

"What's up, is everything ok with Michael?"

"No, that's not it," Syd said, and she pulled the rice out of the microwave. "France, I don't work at the bank."

"What do you mean, you don't work at a bank? Where [I]do[/I] you work, then?" Francie was almost a little worried that she had been lied to by her "best friend."

"You're not gonna believe me, France- you really won't."

"Tell me," she said with concern for her friend.

"I'm sorry I had to lie to you, Francie. But they made me sign thousands of non-disclosure documents."

"Just end the melodrama, Sydney. Where the hell do you work?" By now, a single tear had escaped Francie's ducts.

Sydney, too, began to cry, as she started to explain the whole story. "It all started one day in the park, this man came up to me…" and the story continued, with Danny and his death, her dad working with her unbeknownst to her, her betrayal of SD-6, the mad hunt for Sloane since then, and, of course, the true conditions of her relationship with Vaughn.

"Why are you telling me this?" Francie was still distraught, but through her tears, the question came out. "Why me?"

Sydney closed her eyes for five seconds, trying to come up with a reason. "My friend, Emily, recently died. And I couldn't stand having to lie to her about what I did. And after that experience, I feel like you should know."

"I can't believe this, how can you work for the CIA? You're too nice to be a spy!"

"Truth takes time, Francie. I would have told you eventually, but I just had to do it now. Oh, and one more thing. Don't tell anyone I had this conversation. I want to tell Will about it myself. Don't even let on that we had this conversation, Ok?"

In her confusion, Francie agreed. The two hugged in a teary mess, their first since Charlie.