Sarah Walker was hugely excited.

She was about to receive her first assignment, the one that would determine whether or not she would become a true deep-cover operative for the CIA.

As she stood in front of Director Graham's desk, it was all she could to do to keep from bouncing on her toes in excitement as he looked over the portfolio he was about to hand her.

Finally, he stood up, said, "Here you go. Look over it, tell me if there are any problems."

Nearly trembling with anticipation, Sarah opened the cover of the manila folder. She scanned down to the alias profile –

Cover name: Elizabeth Lisa Reynolds

Her eyes widened in shock, and she looked up at Director Graham. "I… don't understand."

"We're sending you home for Christmas, Agent Walker," Graham replied. "Your mission is to recreate the persona of Elizabeth Reynolds, and convince your family and friends that that's who you still are, all the while not compromising Sarah Walker."

"That doesn't sound very difficult," she said. "I thought my final test would be something more challenging."

"It will be more difficult than you think," Graham answered. "But quite honestly, you've exceeded all our expectations so far. This is more procedure than anything else."

He paused, and leaned forward, placing his hands on his desk. "That, and we thought you might want to go home for Christmas."

She sighed. Yes, she did want that very much. "Thank you, sir."

Sarah turned to leave his office. "Sir, one more question."

"Yes, Walker?"

"Father O'Halloran. Can I tell him about any of what's happened in the last six months?"

Graham looked back at her. "Michael O'Halloran is cleared higher than anybody else in the CIA except for me," he replied. "There may be some things about your training he doesn't want to hear, but he's cleared for all of it. If he asks, be honest – after all, he was your 'entrance recruiter'."

She nodded. "Thank you, sir. And Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Walker."

Sarah didn't get to return to Boston as she had left six months before – in an unmarked CIA jet. Rather, she flew US Airways, so it wouldn't look suspicious.

A friend of hers from high school picked her up at Logan Airport, giving her a huge hug when she saw her. "You look fantastic, Beth!" she exclaimed. "How have you been?"

I'm Beth Reynolds again, Sarah reminded herself. "I've been great… how have you been, Nicole?"

"You're not going to believe it," Nicole replied, "but I'm three months pregnant!"

Oh, I believe it, Sarah thought grimly. If anybody had been as promiscuous as she had in high school, it was Nicole.

"Congratulations!" Sarah replied, trying her best to convey a false sense of enthusiasm. "Who's the father?"

"Chad McMillan," Nicole said flippantly, and Sarah saw red.

Chad McMillan. That sorry son of a bitch. The only guy I ever ACTUALLY wanted in high school, the guy who I could never ACTUALLY get, and Nicole managed to get him into bed, and now she's having his KID?! YOU BITCH!!!

She took a deep breath. Being Beth Reynolds again was going to be a lot easier than Director Graham though.

Nicole took Sarah to her hotel first, where she dropped off her suitcase. Then, she drove her over to the Beacon Hill neighborhood, to the old converted mansion where her father was living.

Sarah and Nicole parted ways then, with Sarah going inside. As she stepped into the front parlor, she felt like she was stepping into the past – which she realized she was, seeing the plaque indicating that the building was on the National Register of Historic Buildings.

"May I help you, ma'am?" the woman at the front desk asked.

"Yes, my name is Beth Reynolds. I'm here to see my father, Mark Reynolds?"

The woman checked in the computer. "I need to see some I.D., please."

Sarah had been prepared for this, and as instructed by Director Graham, pulled out both her Sarah Walker I.D. and the Beth Reynolds I.D. that had been returned to her for this mission.

The woman looked at both of them, and then handed them back. "Thank you, Ms. Reynolds. He's in the common area right now. Joseph will take you to him."

A young man who looked like he was in high school at first glance stepped out from behind the counter. When Sarah looked closely at him, though, she realized that he was not exactly what he appeared to be.

As she walked next to him into the common room, she softly asked, "Agency?" She looked over at him. He didn't say anything, just nodded slightly in reply.

"Sergeant Major Reynolds?" Joseph said, walking up behind a recliner.

"What is it?"

Sarah hadn't heard his voice in nearly a year, and her stomach jumped a little. "You have a visitor, sir."

The chair turned, and their eyes met. His eyes widened, and hers began to fill with tears.

"Beth!"

"Daddy…"

He jumped out of his chair, and pulled her into the type of bear hug that only a retired Army drill sergeant would give. "Oh, God, I've missed you so much," he said softly.

"I missed you too, Daddy," Sarah sniffled.

Planting a kiss on her forehead, Mark Reynolds sat back down in his recliner. Sarah looked around, and discovered a chair parked not too far away, which she dragged over and set next to him.

"So," he began. "Tell me all about Washington. I want to know all about you working in Senator Kerry's office. Every sordid detail."

This had been in the mission briefing file as well. Beth Reynolds, after dropping out of U-Mass, had gone to Washington, and gotten a job working for Massachusetts Senator John Kerry. Sarah had wrinkled her nose a bit at that, because she wasn't a particular fan of Senator Kerry, but when told that the alternative was Ted Kennedy, she decided to go with Kerry.

"It's interesting, Dad. You get to see all these things you never thought you'd see, things you never wanted to see. You know that thing that Leo McGarry said on The West Wing, how there's two things that you never want to see being made – laws and sausages? It's so true."

It was a little disconcerting for her to be able to lie to her father so easily, but Director Graham had told her that that was part of what being an agent was all about. It was her cover, and she had to live it.

Her father laughed at the "laws and sausages" remark. "So tell me," he said, more quietly and a little conspiratorially. "Is the Senator going to run for President in 2004? I keep hearing these rumors that he is."

That one caught Sarah off guard. Nobody had mentioned anything to her about John Kerry possibly going after the Democratic nomination. So, she improvised.

"Daddy… I'm a junior level staffer. They don't really consult me on these decisions, you know?"

"Oh well," her father replied, leaning back in his chair. "Not that it matters, since I'll be voting to re-elect the President anyway. Good man, Mr. Bush."

Sarah rolled her eyes and bit her tongue. She would never win an argument with her father about George W. Bush, so why even bother?

On Christmas Eve, Sarah and her father went to church at St. Joseph's. It was the first time that Sarah had been in the church since her recruitment, and the first time she'd been there for a church service since before her mother died.

They arrived about thirty minutes early, to find good seats. Father O'Halloran's eyes lit up when he saw them come in, and he approached them.

"Mark! Beth! 'Tis good to see the both of ye," he exclaimed, his Irish accent, as always, more pronounced than usual at Christmas time ("'Tis good fer the visitors," he'd explained once).

"Mark, do ye mind if I steal a moment of yer daughter's time, just to get caught up and make sure she's still livin' the life of a good Catholic girl?" he asked.

"Not at all," Mark Reynolds replied with a laugh. "I would certainly hope she is, given that she's working for a Catholic."

"Aye, and a good Irish Catholic man himself, Senator Kerry," O'Halloran replied.

"Hah!" Mark Reynolds said, expressing his disdain for the Democratic Senator. But he refrained from anything further, instead going into the church to find seats for himself and his daughter.

O'Halloran led Sarah into his office. "So, Agent Walker, how goes things?"

"I'm sorry," she replied with an impish smile, "but my name's Beth Reynolds. I'm afraid you have me confused with somebody else."

He nodded. "Aye, and very good with maintainin' your cover, young lady. How's the trainin' been?"

"I have learned more about the intelligence community than I thought was possible," she replied, turning serious. "There's some things that amaze me, some things that I never wanted to even know."

"And yer skills? Have they improved any?"

"Well, I don't mean to brag, but given that I'm fluent in fourteen languages and know over a hundred ways to kill a man now… I'd say yes."

"And what of that blasted Sparrow School? Did they make ye participate in that program worthy of Sodom and Gomorrah?"

Sarah looked downward and closed her eyes. "Yes, Father, they did."

He sighed heavily. "I know that it's an important bit of training, but it just hurts my soul to see young men and women forced to do such debauched things with themselves."

Sarah looked back up at him. "If it's any consolation, I was in and out in three weeks."

"Aye, BETH, but that's still three weeks of livin' in sin that ye could've done without."

She shrugged. "I'm working for a greater good, Father."

He nodded. "I know, I know."

Father O'Halloran paused and sighed. "Beth… do ye wish to give confession before going in to the service?"

Sarah thought about it for a moment, and then shook her head. "I'm sorry, Father, but given that I'm not sure whether or not there really is a God, I don't think it could truly be a sincere confession."

He sighed again. "Well, at least yer honest," he said, his voice pained. "But believe me when I say that I pray every day for yer protection and for the eternal salvation of yer soul."

The service was a beautiful one. Despite the fact that her belief in God had mostly evaporated, there was still something about a traditional Catholic church service – especially on Christmas Eve – that touched Sarah deep within.

She began to tear up when one of the altar boys got up to read the second chapter of Luke. The passage about the birth of Christ, and the angels appearing to the shepherds in the fields had always been so much a part of her childhood. She thought back, remembering much happier Christmases, where she'd always waited anxiously for CBS to air A Charlie Brown Christmas so she could hear Linus speak those words.

After Father O'Halloran's homily, a young man about Sarah's age went to the front of the church. He looked rather familiar, but Sarah couldn't place his face. But she forgot all about that when he opened his mouth and began to sing.

O Holy Night, the stars are brightly shining… it is the night of our dear Savior's birth.

He had, unquestionably, the most beautiful voice she had ever heard. Even with just bare accompaniment by the piano, his voice filled the church, rising to the rafters and slowly trickling back down to the floor.

Long lay the world in sin and error pining, till He appeared, and the soul felt its worth.

As the young man sang with the voice of an angel, the emotions that had built up inside of Sarah over the last year – from her mother's death, to her torturous last semester at U-Mass, the sudden departure from Boston, the isolation during training at Langley, the unspeakable sense of filthiness she had felt after Monterey – it all just began to boil to the surface.

A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices, for yonder breaks, a new and glorious morn!

Without warning, her emotions bubbled over, and a huge sob burst forth from her chest. Her father looked over at her in concern.

Fall on your knees, oh hear the angels' voices!

Sergeant Major Mark Reynolds wrapped his daughter in his strong arms as she cried, the weight of the last year slowly slipping off her shoulders.

Oh night divine, oh night when Christ was born…

As he held her, a tear slowly slipped out of his eye and ran down his cheek.

Oh night divine, oh night, oh night Divine!

After the service, after Sarah had recovered, she sought out the young man who had sung the song. "That was absolutely beautiful," she said, shaking his hand.

"Thank you," he replied. He looked at her curiously. "Have we met before?"

"I think we have," she said, "but I don't remember where."

"I'm Frank and Lynn Hoover's nephew," he replied. "I'm up from Hartford – back from Stanford University on Christmas break."

"Of course!" Sarah exclaimed, her eyes widening. "The Hoovers were my old next-door neighbors!"

"Oh, okay, yeah!" he replied. "I knew I'd met you before."

"I'm Beth Reynolds."

"Nice to finally know your name, Beth," he laughed, looking her in the eyes. "I'm Bryce Larkin."