I don't know if I said this but I am proofreading and the problems you've told me about are not in the original—I've checked. And, I have a beta-which gets me through my days, most times-so if neither of us is catching the problems, plus two electronic proofreaders, then maybe the problem is with fanfiction after I save it because I do a fourth proofread after uploading the document. I don't know what else I can say. If you'd like me to email you the original, I can, to prove that everything is right but otherwise, I guess grit your teeth and bear it just like me.

Sorry for the delay of this chapter. School is, well school. I want to cry.

By the way, thanks C.

Rubbing her palms against her legs again, she scanned the room for the hundredth time trying to will Eric to be there. They, being APO, had decided that since she seemed to be a part of his missing life that he appeared to be recalling—however hazy—that it was important to insert her back in and try to speed the process along.

And they needed that to happen quickly.

Things at the office were not going well. They had picked up chatter that something big was on the horizon but they didn't know when or how. Nadia felt in the pit of her stomach that, if things had gone Sark's way, it would have happened after he got the word that everyone on the team was dead. That was a problem. Especially since they, being Sydney and Nadia, suspected Dixon of being behind it. But only she and Sydney knew about the crazy suspicion and she wanted to keep it that way.

The cowbells on the front door sent out a cacophony of noise revealing that someone was coming in. Nadia peeked over the row of chewing gum and smiled when she saw Eric stretching out his quadriceps by the front counter. Nadia had sworn the older woman behind the counter to secrecy when Eric came in. She was not to reveal Nadia was there, Nadia had informed her without going too far into detail and the woman simply replied with a twinkling in her eyes that she understood.

"Hello Eric, is everything going well?" she asked, tightening the lid on a pickle jar.

"You know me?" he responded shocked, dropping his foot back to the ground. "Maybe that's why I ended up here. Please, what's your name?"

"Mrs. Bailey of course. What's wrong with you?"

"I was in an accident. A few days ago. It's not something I recommend doing."

"Really? Everything okay?"

"Yeah. But I lost the past few years of my life. Why I couldn't forget the awkward middle school years or that phase I went through in college without a girl or the eighties for that matter's beyond me."

Mrs. Bailey smiled, straightened up the napkins next to the deli counter, and continued as if it was common to her that one of her regulars couldn't remember a fifth of his life. "And that saint that's always with you? Is she okay?"

Nadia bit her lip to keep from screaming out. The woman was meddling in some dicey waters and it could spell a lot of trouble for them all.

"Saint? What do you mean?"

"I don't know," she responded, wiping at the countertop with her rag. "That what you're always calling her: 'my little Santos' I think you say."

"Santos is a person? I guess that Flinkman was right," he said more to himself than Mrs. Bailey. Sometimes, it took a bit for things to enter that thick head of his. "But why can't I remember her? What's she like?"

"She always was quick to smile around you. And laugh. Oh, there were times that you would get her started and I thought they'd have to take her out on a stretcher she was laughing so hard. She really loved you. Really loves you."

"Do you ever see her?"

"Once and a while. She seems lost somehow, now. It's like she's found a sadness that she once knew and feels trapped in it again."

"Please, do you know her first name?"

"Nadia," she said quietly filling the room with the name as if it was a soft scent.

"Does she ask about me? Why hasn't she tried to contact me? Can you tell me anything?"

Mrs. Bailey laughed a little and said, "Oh now Eric, I don't want to be meddling in other people's business. I'm sure you'll find her when the time's right. Now get yourself out of here and finish your jog."

Eric chuckled and left it at that as he turned and headed back to the front door.

Nadia waited until the bells had calmed before heading for the front door, shooting Mrs. Bailey a wide-eyed look of annoyance, yet she couldn't be completely mad with the woman.

She pushed the door open and instead of running into the cool morning air, ran into a wall. Well, not a wall seeing as how she toppled it over, falling on top of it.

Eric started laughing as she tried to untangle herself from him and stand, apologizing the entire time. She helped him stand and he caught his first glance at the remarkable splendor.

"I'm Eric…Weiss. 38," he said sticking out his hand.

She took it in hers and smiled, remembering their first meeting. "Not single?"

"I don't know. Can we leave it at that?"

"Sure. Listen, I was about to finish my jog. Would you like to accompany me? I promise to buy you a bottled water or something for knocking you over."

"That sounds nice."

They headed off in the direction of their houses, keeping a comfortable pace between them. Nadia's heart, though, wanted to leap out of her chest with the mere familiarity of their run. This was heaven to her and no one could take it from her.

"Hey," Eric said between slaps of his feet on the sidewalk, "you never told me your name."

"Isabel," she replied simply, the name she had assumed many times before for an alias. She couldn't very well tell him her name was Nadia seeing as how Mrs. Bailey said it and how there weren't that many Nadias around.

"Where in Argentina are you from?"

"Qué? Por supuesto, usted sabe español. But how did you decide I was from Argentina?"

"I don't know. Lucky guess?"

"Eric Weiss, there is more to you than meets the eye. I'm glad I ran into you."

"Literally," he joked, rubbing his hip. "I'm glad I could take the bruises for you." He was shamelessly flirting, he knew it. But there was something about this girl that made him feel good. She made him forget about what he'd forgotten.

"You're too sweet. Are you sure you can't answer me about the girlfriend?"

Eric slowed and finally stopped in front of a bus stop. He wiped the sweat off of his chin with his shoulder and signed, "That's a funny story."

"How so?" She asked, leaning against the graffitied, glass wall.

"I lost my memory of the past few years. I'm getting kind of sick of telling people. I'm thinking about getting it typed up on a business card so I could just be like, 'hi, the name's Eric Weiss, my back story' and then I'd hand them the card."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah. The weird thing is, no one from my past is trying to help me get it back."

"That doesn't mean they don't care."

"It doesn't? I don't know. But if someone I loved was going through what I am, I'd be by their side."

"Maybe they don't know?"

"Maybe, but I feel like people from my past are all around me; they just won't talk to me."

"Like who?"

"I don't know. The guy at the bar, or the tech that comes to my house. Just people in my life. Maybe I'm just grasping at straws."

"Don't give up hope."

"I just get so frustrated when I try to think about it. If I could just remember a name. A name! That's all I'm asking for." Eric was turning redder and it wasn't from the run.

Nadia didn't want him to explode and tried to calm his nerves.

"This is ridiculous! A perfect stranger that ran into me is nicer than the bums from my past life. UGH! When I get my hands on them, I'll—I'll--," he stopped long enough to punch the glass bus stop wall, causing it to splinter and crack at the point of impact.

"Eric, Eric calm down. It'll be alright."

Eric dropped to his knees and hung his face in his hands, "Bell, what's wrong with me?"

Nadia crashed down next to him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You've had a rough week. Pushing your memory's not going to help. Just give it time."

Eric grinned, "You sound like my doctors. Forgive my brief moment of rage?"

"Of course. It must be hard to lose your memory."

Eric stood, she quickly followed and they began their jog again. Whether he felt embarrassed or he just didn't have anything else to say, he didn't talk for the rest of their journey. Nadia was simply happy to be with him again, no matter how sappy it sounded.

His temper seemed to be fading the further they ran, which was a good sign, at least Nadia hoped so. He eventually asked if he could escort her back to her house but she told him that it wasn't necessary.

When they arrived at Eric's house he said, "Well, this is my stop. Can we take a rain check on the bottled water? My brother's coming in and I've got to go pick him up."

"Claro. Not a problem. Would you like to go out this Friday, kind of a non-date thing?"

"Boy, I sure do but I can't. How about coming over here though? For like a cookout. I've been making friends since, well, if I had one of those business cards I'd give it here, and I want them to come over and hang out. Do you want to come?"

"I don't know," she replied in a joking tone. "Will I fit in?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure you want me to?"

"I sure could use a friend, especially one as nice as you. So will you come? 7:00? Bring that perfect smile?"

"I think I can manage that. This girl you can't remember if you have or not, she sure is lucky."

"Yeah, I hope so."

Eric waved goodbye as he entered his house and Nadia jogged a few houses down the street to Sydney's apartment. She had a lot to do.