Please see Prologue for general info and disclaimers.

*~*

An hour earlier…

Click-clack, click-clack, click-clack. The sound of her shoes slapping against the tiled floor reverberated down the empty lobby of McLaughlin Hall. Sydney looked down to check the time on her watch and cursed when she saw that it was already past 7:30. Taking a deep breath, she quickened her pace to a run as she headed for the stairs. Click-clack-click-clack-click-clack. Up four flights of stairs and then a sharp right down an abandoned hallway, she scanned the numbers printed along the tops of the closed office doors. 407. 415. 423. She needed room 439 and she needed the door to that room to be open. 427. 431. Urging her legs to move faster, she made a mad dash for the office four doors down and hurtled herself through its unobstructed doorway. "Professor Pierson?" she exclaimed in a breathless shout as she came to rest in front of a somewhat battered oak desk.

Natalie Pierson jerked upright in her chair at the unexpected intrusion. It was late, she'd spent the past four hours reading students' papers (some of which had been very poorly written), and the last thing she needed or wanted was a disruption just as she was about to head home. She opened her mouth to declare haughtily that her office hours had ended six hours ago when she noticed that the newest occupant in her office was Sydney Bristow. Quixotic Sydney Bristow, she reiterated in her head, emphasizing the adjective she'd placed in front of the name.

After having spent the past fifteen years of her life being an English professor at a large university, she'd stumbled upon her fair share of graduate students who, like Sydney, failed to excel within the department because of their lack of resolve and perceived 'flakiness.' But, in her seasoned eyes, Sydney was different from all those other students who seemed perfectly happy to be nothing more than a career grad student. Natalie knew it was wrong of her to play favorites, but she repeatedly found herself mesmerized by the spark Sydney exuded when inspired. Glancing at her desk clock, she teased, "Cutting it a little close, aren't we, Ms. Bristow? I was about to start packing up to go home."

Sydney sighed and tucked her hair behind her ears. "I'm so sorry, Dr. Pierson. I know I said I'd come see you at seven, but then my meeting at work ran late and I honestly tried to get here as quickly as I could, but there was this pile-up on—"

Natalie held up a hand and laughed. "It's okay, Sydney. I know how crazy things can get when you have a busy schedule like yours."

"Do you want me to come back? I could come back tomorrow. Oh, wait. Tomorrow's Saturday. Well, I could come back on Monday. Oh, except that I'm still going to be out of town on business on Monday. Tuesday then! I'll come back on—"

"Now's fine," Natalie interrupted gently. "But that's assuming you can calm your nerves down enough to stop speaking a mile a minute and in run-on sentences."

"Yes, I…I can." Sydney deposited herself into the wooden chair set-up in front of the desk and anxiously rubbed her fingers together as she stared at her professor expectantly.

Plucking a two-page, stapled document from the top of a pile, Natalie set it down on her desktop and pushed it in Sydney's direction. "This…is good."

"Really?"

"Yes," she maintained, noting with pleasure how much joy her news brought to her student's face. "It's very good, in fact. And I'll be honest and tell you that you a hard sell to get me to agree to let you change topics. I was extremely skeptical when you handed me this paper in class this morning and said you wanted to refocus your thesis on a new idea you'd had. But you've won me over. I think you could de great things with this."

Sydney covered her mouth with her hands and giggled gleefully like a child on Christmas morning. "You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that. When this idea of revenge and its role in literature popped into my head, I knew – instantly – that I had to write about it. I mean, people say that the classic theme in literature is love, but everywhere you see love, you also see revenge. So I thought it'd be great to examine this relationship in classic writings in order to theorize whether it's love that begets revenge or revenge that begets love."

"Ah, the classic chicken-egg debate, but with a twist."

"Yes! There's no doubt that losing a loved one, especially at someone else's hand, brings out a thirst for vengeance. You see this in literature, the real world, everywhere. But my question is whether this…possible need for revenge heightens one's experience of love. Also, what does it mean when your desire for revenge and vengeance begins to fade, which is bound to happen as time passes? Does that mean your love for whoever has diminished as well?"

Back straightened, eyes flashing, and hands waving excitedly in front of her chest, a girl with questions who wanted to find the answers had replaced the previously demure and nerve-racked Sydney. Natalie detected this change and smiled with pride. "Sounds like you've been thinking about this a lot longer than you led me to believe."

Sydney blushed and sucked her lower lip into her mouth in embarrassment. "Yeah, I, uh…I guess you could say it's been on my mind for awhile."

"Well, the thought you've already put into it shows. I stand enthusiastically behind your decision to change topics." When she saw Sydney open her mouth to respond, she quickly added, "But…as your thesis advisor, I feel I'd be remiss if I also didn't say that I'm…somewhat concerned."

"Concerned? But I thought you like the idea."

"I do, but… Sydney, I think you have great potential and I think this thesis could showcase all of your talents for critical thinking and story writing, but I'm concerned about you changing your topic two years after joining this program. And, quite frankly, I'm also a little suspicious of your commitment to the program. After all, it was just six weeks ago that you left me a voicemail message saying you were quitting the program only to – one day later – leave me second message saying you'd changed your mind."

"That was a—"

"Bad time. You were going through some rough stuff then. I know; you explained it all to me. But my point is that, seeing as how you're only a part-time student to begin with, two years is a lot of time and effort to turn your back on now. With your banking job monopolizing so much of your time, do you really think it's in your best interest to start over?"

Feeling slightly deflated, Sydney slumped down in her seat and blinked her eyes several times. While Dr. Pierson's earlier words of praise were still ringing in her ears, ten words were beginning to phase out all of the others: With your banking job monopolizing so much of your time… It was always her damn banking job. No matter what she did or how much she tried to establish a second life for herself, it always came back to the 'banking job.'

When several seconds passed in which nothing was said, Natalie placed her elbows on her desk and leaned forward in her chair. "Sydney, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"No, it's okay," Sydney stated, forcing the corners of her lip upwards. "I know I haven't been the ideal student and that I have a rather infamous reputation within the department, but I really am committed to my studies and tackling this new idea for my thesis. I promise I'm going to focus more of my attention on completing this paper. I also have a feeling that, after my business trip this weekend, my responsibilities at the bank will…dwindle."

Natalie narrowed her eyes at the vagueness in Sydney's words, but ultimately decided not to fixate upon it. "Okay, then that's that. You'll forge straight ahead into the world of love and revenge, and I'll hitch a ride on you so that I can enjoy the show. Let's meet again some time next week after you've returned from your trip to discuss what steps you should take next."

"Sounds good."

The two women rose to their feet and Sydney walked over to the other side of the desk to hug her professor, something she'd never done before. "Thank you, Dr. Pierson. It means a lot to know you're supporting me on this."

Wrapped in her student's embrace, Natalie's eyebrows shot up as she awkwardly patted Sydney's back. "My pleasure, honey."

Ten minutes later, Sydney was back outside, basking in the solitude that a near empty campus provided her. She couldn't have wished for her meeting with Natalie Pierson to go any better than it had. Off in the distance, she heard a girl shriek in delight as a chorus of cheerful voices followed. She loved being on the campus on Friday nights, a time when students were more focused on shedding their school-week monotony than hanging around the various halls. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, pretending as if she was inhaling a special elixir that would change her life. But when she opened them back up, she was still standing in front of a garbage can, dressed in a typical SD-6 suit.

Reluctantly, she reached into her purse and extracted a brown paper bag. She'd staked out the campus's Maintenance Department for a whole month before fully convincing herself that its trash disposal schedule never changed. On Fridays, the last trash pick-up was always at 7 p.m., and none of the bins would be emptied again until 7 a.m. Monday morning. Crumpling up the paper bag, Sydney tossed it into the garbage can with a feeling of regret. She hated how what she was about to do would affect certain people in her life, but she knew it was for the best.

She probably would have remained in front of the bin for a little while longer if her cell phone hadn't rang. She retrieved the phone from her purse and answered, "Hello?"

"One Stop Video," an unfamiliar voice informed her, his tone clipped.

Shaking her head at the irony of the situation, Sydney smiled ruefully. "Okay. Thanks." With the phone still clutched in her right hand, she cast one last look at where her paper bag now resided and then hurried to her car. She had a meeting with Vaughn she needed to get to.