Note: This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of "Ringer." The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of WB, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site.

Season 1 Episode 23 part 2

"Swapping Places"

Moistening her green eyes. Her perfect pink lips pursed into a small calculated frown.

"But where will I go?"

It was hard not to take pity on this beautiful woman, in a crinkled designer suit and costume jewelry worth more than most people's salary - who was probably used to getting her way either by her looks or other people's money- with instead a confused pupped-eye expression and nowhere to go. She was a couture angel, fallen from a 5th avenue penthouse into a hospital emergency room janitor's cot. Definitely fallen on hard times. Possibly even bottomed out. But even the nurses, who devoted their lives to helping others, found their patience vexed.

"It's been three days, ma' m."

"Don't you have someone you could call? "

"The father?"

The small calculated frown turned frosty. Her wet green eyes hardened like icicles. The instantaneous transformation was jarring, as the head nurse – who was speaking now and had seen a lot in her days- backed away instinctively. Her arms raised in a shielding motion.

"… We - we – could call you a Taxi."

In the background, the orderlies whispered amongst themselves. They had considered calling the police but this had seemed harsh and also like it could invite trouble. Especially, on the first night. When this new-mother gave birth alone in the dead of night, and no one visited.

Over the past few days though, they'd begun to reconsider their generosity. A sneaking suspicion lead them to believe the squatter was turning out to be more vixen than victim. Perhaps, it was the way she was able to rotate from emotion to emotion with a flicker of a switch that made them pay heed. Or the way she snapped when she didn't get her way. She always had to have her way. Either way, they were beginning to think there might be a reason no one came calling.

"I need another day."

"O-okay.. But this is the last one. We really must make room for the janitor, again. This really isn't a place for a lady of such stature."

"I know. Do you think I would choose it?" she snapped.

Looking alarmed and relieved, the nurses left satisfied that they had at least exacted this deadline from their guest.

Regardless of their growing apprehension, Siobhan needed time to figure things out. Andrew was really not her first choice. He was so sickeningly dependable, like a sloppy dog with no standards. She had cheated on him so many times, in front of his very nose. It was embarrassing how many times he took her back, over and over. He kept believing her obvious lies, even though she practically committed adultery in front of him. Regardless of all her machinations, he kept holding out on to dream, an illusion of happiness. It was a dream she once shared with him. But all the money in the world couldn't keep her beside him now. Not when she despised him so.

Plus, there was no guarantee he would still have her. But-there were his children. Twins. She starred at them across the glass enclosure of the nursery ward. The fact they were genetically his, and not her lover's, could be used to her advantage- if she played her cards right. But there was that pesky business of explaining her "death." Andrew was gullible, but not stupid. She had gone to great lengths to fake her drowning and have her sister unknowingly assume her identity. To re-emerge with babies in tow would undoubtedly leave her with nothing, if it went to court. It might look bad. She would not be penniless, again.

She needed a plan. A perfect plan.

If only Henry, her true love, had understood the lengths she had gone to in order to be with him. She would make him understand, again. The price she paid was too great: sabotaging her sister, betraying her husband, killing her own best friend – his wife, one he claimed to have not loved, so they could finally have been together. They were so happy together in each other's arms, talking about the lives they could have together.

Alas. Her original scheme to fake her own demise had been foiled by a snot-nosed, twin sister. Her good for nothing genetic copy had been a slipshod drunk her whole life. Never making much of herself, except ruining things. Ruining everything. Ruining herself. Ruining others. Siobhan had taken care of her sister over and over again - with nothing to show for it, except a dead son. A son that she had loved. She would have given anything to have back. -But, instead he was dead, because his babysitter couldn't listen. Instead of keeping her son at home, Bridget had let him go to a basketball game with her ex. Despite the fact that Siobhan had forbidden it. On that night, a drunk driver had taken her son's life. No amount of suffering her sister endured would make her happy. Her sister was supposed to have taken her place. Her sister was supposed to have died.

Her musings were interrupted by the doors of the hall opening.

"Bridget?"

"Oh my god! Bridget, it's you."

Siobhan turned to see Andrew standing before her. Her composure was lost and gained in the moment it took to turn around. As she faced him, she saw the unmistakable expression in his face. It was the adoring look that he had given her so many times before as his wife, as Siobhan, except now he was giving it to Bridget.

Bridget. So he thinks I am her.

She bit down on her tongue until she tasted iron.

Even worse was the realization that he knew Bridget's true identity and that he still loved Bridget.

The wrath swallowed her heart. Her anger ablaze, burned like fire in her eyes. But her voice remained steady. If anything she was glad, she still had full control over her expressions. He would not know his mistake until it was too late. She would make them pay. She would make them all pay. She would get her way. If it was Bridget he wanted, it would be Bridget he got.

"Andrew, I'm so glad it's you."

In the background, the nurses looked worried. One had called her husband, Andrew Martin, in the hopes that he would come get her. But now a sense of anxiety filled her. She opened her mouth to say something, but the head one ushered her away. This was not their problem anymore.

Meanwhile, Andrew Martin embraced the woman he knew to be his wife.

TBD