Sydney Bristow loved her morning jogs. The feeling of her legs stretching in front of her, the power with every push off was so freeing. But the best thing about her jogs was that it was just her, Sydney Bristow jogging. No alias was required.

As she rounded a corner, Sydney picked up pace. Her apartment building was in sight. She started towards home, but then felt restless, and so she ran past it. Her mind was full of so many complicated thoughts; she just was not sure what to do. If she went into her house, she would have to start her daily routine. That meant seeing her dad, Sark, and Vaughn. She wasn't sure if she could do that just yet.

Things with her dad were still very touchy. She knew he cared, but he had a funny way of showing it. And Sark, well, Sydney wasn't sure what his game was just yet. But she was pretty sure that he was trying to connect with her, and she thought maybe that wouldn't be so bad. Not that she wanted him, but if he was going to trust Sydney, it may make her job easier.

And then there was Vaughn.

Vaughn was so complicated; Sydney didn't know what to think. Had she been mistaken? There was something between them right? Something more than a handler-agent relationship right? But then, he was back with Alice. So maybe they were nothing more than friendship. Sydney felt so stupid. Worst than that, when she first saw Alice at the hospital, she felt betrayed. And jealous.

But no, it didn't end there. Vaughn had to try and explain. Sydney almost couldn't take it. She felt her tears welling up in her eyes. She blinked them away as she walked down the hallway. But had her ears betrayed her? Were there footsteps behind her?

Sydney suddenly turned around and started running for her building. She was never one to run away from problems, and she didn't want to start now. Besides, Vaughn had talked to her mother. and maybe she should too.



Michael Vaughn sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. His head pounded, even though he was definitely not hung over. He stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom. He found some IB Profuen, and popped two pills in his mouth. He scooped some water in his hands and slurped it up.

Michael ran a hand over his stubble and examined his face closely in the mirror. He ran some hot water and splashed it on his face. He lathered up some shaving cream and started his day. Another day, he thought, can't wait. God, he felt bitter. Even his thoughts were dripping with sarcasm. Sometimes, in fantasies, he thought about what life would be like if he had just met Sydney somewhere else, other then the CIA. What if she had worked at his local Starbucks? Would he have noticed her? He didn't see how he couldn't notice her. But, that was just a fantasy.

And lately. well lately, as much as he hated it, he thought about what his life would have been like if he had just never met Sydney. After all, things weren't bad with Alice, although their recent rekindling wasn't working out so great. But maybe he would have never second-guessed stuff with Alice if he had never known Sydney. Maybe.



Sydney walked into her mother's cell area. She walked down the long hall, hearing each heel click. She found herself in the all to familiar CIA holding pen. The air was stale and recycled, and the room was fairly dark. But Sydney never came there for the atmosphere.

Sydney hated the way her own reflection bounced off the glass. It was distracting when she talked to her mother, because she could she the similarities in their faces. That reflection made it that much harder for Sydney to concentrate. That reflection could be the end of her.

Sydney's mother approached the glass; same thoughtful look on her face as usual.

Irina's eyes searched Sydney's for some emotion. "Are you happy?"

This caught Sydney off guard. "What?"

"He lives."

Sydney stepped back slightly. Was she that transparent? Or was her mother that clairvoyant?

Irina's eyes remained steady.

"Yes. I know you helped him. I- I came here to say thank you."

Irina smiled. "No you didn't. He told you we talked, and you want to know don't you? Do you know we talked about you?"

Sydney stepped towards the glass again.

Irina smiled again. "So curious. you must really love him. Don't worry, give it time."

Sydney looked down, frustrated. Give it time must mean he didn't feel the same way.

"No, he does. But it is going to take some time."

Sydney looked up, amazed by her mother's ability to read human emotions.

Irina cocked her head to the side. "You may not like me, you may even hate me. But I see people, Sydney. I know people, I read them. There is something there." Then Irina walked away from the glass and started doing her morning Tai Chi.

Sydney watched her mother for a second; intrigued by her mystery, and understanding why her dad couldn't stay away from her.



Michael Vaughn watched on a monitor. He felt like he was being evasive, voyeuristic by watching Sydney and her mother. But since he told Irina about his feelings for Sydney, he had felt uneasy. He couldn't risk Sydney being awkward around him not because it would hurt him, but because it could put her at risk. If anything every happened to her because of his feelings, he would never forgive himself.

Vaughn stared at the screen and realized that Sydney was leaving the room. He walked over to the donuts and coffee on a nearby desk, and tried to play it cool.