Sydney was in the process of putting the skillet into the sink when Francie walked into their apartment.  Her roommate was obviously lost in her own world as she sat her purse down on the bar.  The smile on her face made Sydney jealous and worried at the same time.  It'd been a long time since she'd been so happy in love herself.

It'd been a long time since she'd believed that love was easy.

Telling herself that now was not the time to think about her complicated love life, she instead focused on the concern she was feeling.  "Good morning," she said.

Francie spun around and looked at her.  She laughed, and it was so easy and carefree, and Sydney dreaded the day her father would inevitably break Francie's heart.  She'd have to be there to help pick up the pieces after he left, and it was going to be painful.

"Good morning," Francie told her as she practically bounced into the kitchen.  Sydney could tell that the easiness was forced on Francie's part; she didn't blame her.  Sydney knew she had not been easy to live with lately, but she could tell that Francie was determined to move on in their friendship.  Work past the wounds.

Feeling relief, Sydney looked down at the skillet in her hand.  Holding it in Francie's direction, she said, "I just scrambled myself some eggs.  Want me to make you some?"

Francie's eyes closed briefly before a soft smile touched her lips.  "No, thank you.  I've already eaten."

"At Simone's?" she said, naming her father's favorite place to eat breakfast.  It was where he'd taken her for their breakfast meeting.

Francie looked confused by the question.  "No, actually, Jack made me breakfast in bed."  The last two words came out choked as Francie obviously thought about what she was saying.  Sydney watched as the smile left her friend's face.  Francie looked down at her clothes and winced.  Then, she looked up at her, and Sydney could see the tension Francie was feeling in the tightness of her lips.

"I didn't even know he cooked," Sydney said, determined herself to move past the tension and the awkwardness, putting the skillet into the sink.  Then a flash of a memory played through her mind.  "Actually, I think I remember him cooking a lot when I was a kid.  When Mom . . . was alive."

"I know he makes a mean omelet," Francie said with a grin.  "And some killer toast, but I don't know about anything else."

Sydney nodded, lost in old memories that she'd forgotten until now.  "Mom actually wasn't a very good cook.  Dad did a lot of it."

Francie looked away and then back.  Sydney could tell that she was struggling to hide a smile.  "What?" she asked her friend.

Biting her lip, Francie looked like she wasn't going to answer, but she finally said, "It's the first thing I've heard that your mother didn't do perfectly."

What Laura Bristow had done perfectly was lie.  And kill.  Of course, Sydney couldn't tell her that, and she knew Jack would never share the truth about his marriage to "Laura Bristow" with Francie.  He'd never expose his own gullibility that way; more lies on top of lies.  Francie deserved better.

Walking past Sydney, she reached into the drawer and pulled out a fork and handed it to her roommate.  "You'd better eat those eggs before they get cold.  Go.  Sit.  Eat."  She got down the canister of coffee beans.  "I'm going to make us some coffee--some good coffee--I can't believe Jack only has instant at his place--and I'm going to take a fast shower while it brews."

Blushing, Sydney looked down at the fork in her hand and nodded.  It was still hard to imagine her father and friend being intimate, but she knew why Francie was determined to show it to her.  They only had two choices: act like it wasn't happening or acknowledge that it was.  And Francie wasn't the type to hide her actions.  Which was one of the many reasons it had hurt so much that Francie had hidden her relationship with Jack.

Sydney headed over to the bar where her plate resided.  Francie ground the beans and started brewing the coffee before turning and looking back at Sydney.  "I know Jack did his heavy-handed father routine on you, and I'm sorry.  I should've known better than let him talk to you first.  I told him that you and I are going to talk, and he's just going to have to live with it."

Almost choking, Sydney reached for her water glass and took a large gulp.  "You told Dad to mind his own business?"

Francie grinned.  "Yeah, I did.  Now, I'm going to go run and take my shower, and when I get back out here, you and I are going to sit down and talk.  If that's okay with you?"

Forcing a smile, she said, "I'd like that."

She took a few more bites of her eggs, but she didn't enjoy them.  Her stomach felt queasy, and it took a moment to realize why.  Francie had told Jack to butt out.  And he'd apparently agreed to do it. Sydney tried to imagine getting her father to do or not to do something, and it hurt knowing that he listened to Francie with ease when he never listened to her.

Noticing that the shower had stopped running, Sydney washed up the few dishes while waiting for Francie to reappear.  Hearing Francie's bedroom door open, she poured them both a cup.  She held out the one with Sweet & Low to Francie, and her friend took it with a grateful smile.  "Hmm," she said after taking a sip.  "This is good coffee."

She pointed her head towards the living room, and Sydney followed.  They sat down on the couch, and Francie took a few more sips of coffee.  Sydney sat sidewise, looking at Francie, who was sitting correctly at the other end.

"How did this all start, Francie?" Sydney asked, still unable to believe that it all wasn't some horrible nightmare.

Francie glanced over at her and set the coffee mug on a coaster.  After taking in a deep breath and slowly exhaling first, she answered, "It all started with dinner."

"When?"  Another question that had been haunting her since she'd found out.

Francie looked uncomfortable.  She sighed and rubbed her forehead.  "Your birthday," she finally answered, looking Sydney straight in the eyes.

"My birthday?"  Tears pricked at her eyes, and she wasn't sure why.  Maybe because it was while she was risking her life to prove to Sloane and the man he'd sent to spy on her that she was loyal to SD-6, her father had been having a nice dinner with Francie.  Maybe having more.  She didn't have the courage to ask that one, and she knew Francie wouldn't answer it.

"He came to the restaurant to have dinner, and it struck me that it was wrong for him to be eating all alone on your birthday, so I went over and joined him.  It was late, and most of the crowd and cleared out by then.  I wasn't needed, and--"

Francie smiled.  "He needed me."  Picking up her coffee mug, she said, "I wasn't expecting a comfortable dinner.  I mean, I'd never really gotten along with your dad, but he really listened to me, Sydney."

"Dad?"  She couldn't hide her disbelief.  Jack Bristow listened to no one.

"Yeah, Jack," Francie said, a frown on her face.  "Sydney, I know you two have a lot of baggage, but he's not the monster you've built him up to be in your mind."

She felt as if she'd been slapped.  "I've never said he was a monster."  She shifted around uncomfortably as she thought about everything she had called him--to his face--since she'd learned they shared the same job.  At first, she'd never even given him a chance to explain himself before yelling at him.

Francie got up and walked back into the kitchen.  Sydney turned her head and watched as she poured herself another cup of coffee.  "He really listened to me, Sydney.  Asked me questions.  Acted like what I had to say was important.  It felt good," she finished as she walked back into the room.

Sydney shifted around.  "I know you haven't really dated a lot since Charlie, with the restaurant taking up so much of your time, but--"

"I'm not talking about Charlie," her friend interrupted.  She shook her head.  "Sydney, most of the time you walk around this apartment like the weight of the world is on your shoulders.  And maybe it is; I couldn't handle bankruptcies and watching people lose everything they worked so hard to get."

Sitting down, she leaned forward, the coffee mug held between her hands.  "And Will's trying to save the world; he lives in a different kind of place now.  The people he hangs out with everyday have problems I don't even want to know about.  They make all of my problems seems so tiny; hell, my problems are tiny!  But I don't always understand where Will is coming from anymore, and besides, he has Amanda.  Both of you deal with big issues in your jobs, so I don't always feel comfortable talking about the fact three people called in sick, even though it's important to me."

Francie smiled and took a sip of coffee.  "Jack listened to me that night.  I know he must have had tons of more important stuff he could've been doing or thinking about, but he sat there and listened as I talked.  Everything I had to say was important to him, or at least he made me feel that way."

Sydney looked down, suddenly realizing how bad a friend she'd been in the last couple of years.  Working for SD-6 had been hard on her friendships, but working for both SD-6 and the CIA--not to mention her desperate desire to destroy SD-6 as soon as possible--had made it hard for her to maintain any friendships, even with those closest to her.  "I'm sorry."

Her best friend shook her head.  "I'm not trying to make you feel bad, Sydney, just trying to explain the hows and whys that you're wanting."

Shaking her head, Sydney admitted, "I still have a hard time picturing you and my dad--"

Francie's laughter was soft, and her face showed both determination and embarrassment.  "I do, too, Sydney.  I mean Jack's old enough to be my father, and he's so unlike anyone else I've ever been with but--"

Francie turned to look at her.  "I feel comfortable with him, Sydney.  Safe.  But strong, too, because I know he respects me for being me.  There isn't any ego demanding to show me that he's 'the man' or any of that stupid crap."

Sydney felt like crying.  It's how she wanted to feel around her father:  safe and comfortable.  She wanted to believe that he had faith in her abilities, and most of the time she did feel that way, but she wanted to be more than a great agent in his eyes.  She wanted to be a great daughter, too.

Francie set down her coffee cup, and Sydney noticed that her hands were shaking.  When she looked back at her, there were tears in her eyes.  "I'm sorry I didn't tell you.  I should have, but I kept thinking that it would end.  I kept telling myself that it was crazy and that it would all be over with so quickly that you didn't need to worry about it."

Standing up, she walked past Sydney and stared at their kitchen.  "I remember him standing there at the door the next morning, after that first crazy night, and I was trying to think how to say goodbye, because I knew I would only see him again when he came to see you, and then he said that you would be gone again on Thursday.  He asked if he could pick me up for dinner."

Shrugging, she walked towards the patio doors.  "I told myself that it was crazy, but I said yes and thought it would be the last time I saw him.  And then we went out on another date, and another one."

She turned to look back at Sydney.  "I never wanted you to find out the way you did."

Closing her eyes, Sydney thought about walking in and finding them together.  Being totally honest with herself, she wasn't sure that being told would have made it any easier.  She still would have hated the idea of the two of them together.

Letting a few tears fall down her face, she admitted, "I hate that the two of you are together.  It doesn't feel right to me.  I think you're going to get hurt, and--"

She stopped and bit her lip.  "And I really hate feeling that you're not in my corner anymore."

Francie sat down next to her, perching herself on the edge.  "Sydney, I'm always going to be your friend," she said.  "And Jack's always going to be your dad, and I know what you're feeling, but--I'm happy, Sydney, and I want you to just be happy for me.  And with me."

She nodded.  "I'll try, Francie.  I will."

Francie grinned.  "That's all I ask."  She lost her smile.  "Sydney, I'm always going to be in your corner.  Maybe it will be different now, but I'm always going to be fighting for you; I love you."

Sydney hugged her.  "Thank you," she whispered, ignoring all the doubts and fears and anger that were swirling around in her.