Disclaimer: I do not own Alias or any characters included in this story. Alias was created by J. J. Abrams, therefore, the show's rights belong to him and not me (being an avid fan and wanting to keep it that way).
A/N: Well, this is my first Alias fic, and I am very interested to see how it will go. Now, regarding this story (or whatever you want to call it). This will be possibly AU, as you might read on. Because I have decided to write this story as taking place after the last episode (being "Remnants"), I will most likely include some various things that might not seem real, but could possibly develop in the show. Enjoy now!
Prologue: Just a Shrink
Dr. Barnett looked out the window in her office. It overlooked a park, with all kinds of animation taking place. A boy with his dog, infants playing in a sandbox, many runners training for various purposes. The usual L.A. civilian's surroundings whenever visiting a park. She remembered hearing two agents at a time joking together about how unheard of that was to them. It is quite odd, she mused. But then again, she was just a shrink. She was paid to analyze the thoughts of a CIA agent.
She sipped her decaf coffee. It wasn't as easy as it seemed. Talking to people for a job would be a blessing for some. But not when you were constantly told to your face on average of five or six times a day that they didn't need to see you. That she was the symbol of derangement. It wasn't just talking to the people either, of course. It was a whole process of acquiring their trust, getting what she needed to know, and somehow getting across her ultimate and universal point of existence to them: to simply help them get over their quandary and fix or at least prolong whatever complication they have.
Judy Barnett was not what you call a Good Samaritan, but she certainly was not out to disappoint anyone. She didn't expect many people to enlist her help voluntarily, and she wasn't going to absolutely force anyone to come and see her.
She turned her slender neck to the antique clock her husband had given her for her birthday last month on the wall. It read 11:30. Perfect. Her lunch hour. She often would go out and visit the park, or sometimes, when feeling particularly in the mood, she would go out with some colleagues to a restaurant.
But today, she felt like doing neither. She had, in the last few years, been talking to an agent by the name of Sydney Bristow, a woman who set the role of what a civilian would call "the ultimate secret agent." She had been intrigued by this woman the first time she had met her, and had lately been assigned to many patients who were at one time (or are still) associated with this Ms. Bristow. She had needed to review their case files, as she was soon going to have to talk to each individual associated with her very soon.
Sighing and putting down her coffee mug, she strode over to her file cabinet and picked out various files. She began to think about Bristow. The woman was indeed very strong. By looking at her, you would instantly become mesmerized by her prestige. The normal passerby would look at her and be convinced that she was a model, or maybe a high-profile businesswoman, but very rarely (if ever) would one suspect that she would be working for the government in secret.
And having to keep track of all these aliases and handling all of them was certainly a task for her. Barnett herself couldn't remember half of the people she was assigned to! She is truly amazing, Barnett thought to herself.
Once she had all of the files she needed, she settled back to her desk and picked up the first one: Jack Bristow. Putting on her glasses with one hand, she opened up the file with the other. Her father seemed like a reasonable place to start….