 Nice Life...: Portland * Two weeks earlier… Sydney smiled at the older man behind the counter as she paid for her groceries. He smiled back as he pressed a few keys on the register, and then pulled out her change after it opened with a “ping”. He turned to her, placing a few notes and random coins in her outstretched hand. “Seven dollars and eighty-five cents change,” he announced, his voice thick with an Italian accent. “Thank you, Mr. Benucci,” Sydney replied, opening her purse, folding the notes and putting them in. “You are so happy this day, Elizabeth,” Mr. Benucci stated in a questioning tone. Sydney chuckled. “Melissa’s decided to give me a nice birthday dinner,” she told him. “You know what she’s like.” “But of course, bella,” Mr. Benucci nodded. “All the best wishes from Luciana and myself for your day.” Sydney grinned as she placed her purse in her handbag, moving towards the exit of the grocery store. “Thank you,” she called, opening the door. “Have a wonderful weekend!” She waved, and then left. Sydney stepped out onto the street and slipped on her sunglasses. Her car was just down the road, and she sighed as she headed off, thinking how lucky she was to be here, in this town; to be welcome, to have friends, to be peaceful. To be alive. Sydney bit her lip and pushed the thought to the back of her overflowing mind. She could finally go around calmly, and yet here she was, thinking about a past she’d erased. Sydney (but I’m Elizabeth now) shook her head as she opened the door of her Jeep Liberty and climbed in. She slammed the door shut as she put the keys in the ignition, making the engine roar to life, and she pulled out from the curb. Driving down the quaint streets of Portland, Maine, to her home (house…), Sydney was once again hit by how at ease she was finally feeling. All this time, (almost two years) and she was still so happy. Tonight would be even better. She was turning thirty, and her flat mate Melissa had decided to celebrate the occasion by inviting a few close friends over for dinner. Melissa’s nature was so open, so trusting. Sometimes, she was so alike Francie that – Sydney stopped her thoughts again as she turned right into her street. She wasn’t allowed to think about Francie or Will. But in the past six months, their faces were invading her thoughts on a regular basis. She’d wake up with Francie’s carefree laugh echoing all around her, or with Will’s skeptic but trusting smile imprinted in the faces of men she saw every day (like Seth, the boyfriend). Sydney would see them when shopping, hear their voices over the phone, and feel them around her when she ate her breakfast. But they were gone now. And she had to let it go. As she pulled into her driveway and got out of the SUV, grocery bags in hand, she made up her mind to not think of them again. Not tonight. Not during her birthday, when she should be happy. Not when her new life was blossoming, and she didn’t want anything to spoil it. Not tonight. She’d loved them both so much, and they’d always be with her, but thinking of them only brought back painful memories. Memories of another life, one she’d left behind her when she moved all the way across the country. But she still missed them like crazy. * :: Sydney fled. Left L.A. Forever. Her father was missing, presumed dead. SD-6 had been disposed of – blown up in the middle of lunch hour, while Sydney was in Russia. But the thing was, the CIA wasn’t the operation responsible for the demise of the building, the bank, the breakaway agency. Sloane’s body hadn’t been found. Neither had her father’s, or Dryer’s. But Dixon’s had been. And so had Marshall’s. A countless amount of bodies – most innocent – had been blown up, burnt, deranged out of recognition. But the ones that counted hadn’t been. The agents who knew what SD-6 (really) was were missing. (Sloane. Jack.) So Sydney was running. Her hair was blonde, her eyes were green, and her jeans were dirty. She’d ditched her car in San Francisco and had caught a train to New York. She’d walked the streets of Manhattan, thinking about what had happened as pedestrians raised their eyebrows at her disheveled attire. The CIA decided that SD-6 had destroyed itself – an inside job. The Alliance had become more suspicious in the last few months, keeping more secrets from more agents than before. Even Jack Bristow wasn’t privy to most of the things that came up. There had been explosions, arguments, screams (blood). Sydney lost so much in her life. That one week after she returned from Moscow destroyed nearly everything she’d ever held dear. She was warned against staying in town, but ignored everything she was told. Ignored the fact that she could feel someone watching her every minute of every day. She thought she was fine – that she could survive anything that was thrown her way. Until something convinced her it was run or die. So, she’d found herself on a train, then in a taxi, and had planned her next move. As Elizabeth Whitby, she’d found a job in Portland, Maine, and moved there. Melissa O’Connell was a great girl whose flat mate had moved out – so she had half a house to share. Sydney had moved in – met Melissa’s friends Jay and Gwen, who were the ultimate inseparable pair, and Seth, Melissa’s cousin, who Sydney found to be a great guy. Problem was, he’d fallen immediately in love with Sydney and her new, gray-tinted contact lenses. He treated her like a princess, buying her flowers, cheering her up after a hard day, taking her out to a movie in the hope that she’d finally turn around and notice him. So she eventually had (but only out of pity). She and Seth had been together six months, but weren’t half as together as Jay and Gwen. She’d been in Maine for eighteen months now, living outside, open to the rest of the world. Sydney’s new life as Elizabeth (which was one of her all-time favorite names, so simple and innocent was it’s elegance) had opened doors she’d never even knocked on before – but had locked others behind her. She could do what she wanted and go where she wanted (but only forward – she could never go back) without worrying that she was being tailed. She could do things she’d only ever dreamed of doing before (like being out in the open). She was finally free from SD-6, from the CIA, from her pressures as an agent. But she was still running. :: * “Seth, sweetie,” Melissa laughed hours later, “you do realize that you’re not staying tonight, don’t you?” Seth sighed and tightened his arms around Sydney. “That’s up to Elizabeth here, Mel.” He planted a kiss on Sydney’s cheek, and she smiled, ready to send him home – as she always did. She pulled his hands from around her waist and turned to face him. “Sorry.” She grinned up at him, and his brown eyes seemed to flash with hurt for a split second. Then they were replaced with their usual happy glow, and Sydney’s smile became smaller, almost rueful. “I’m just tired tonight. But I’ll come with you to Jay and Gwen’s tomorrow night. If you like.” She looked at him hopefully, but as he thought about her proposition, Sydney realized she didn’t care what he said. The thought struck her hard, making her go blank for a second, but she knew it was true. She simply didn’t care. “All right,” Seth conceded. “Tomorrow at eight.” Sydney stepped back, nodding. Answering him… answering herself. She led him to the door, kissed him goodnight, and then watched him walk to his car. She allowed herself a small smile as she closed the heavy oak door behind her, standing still for a moment after the sound of Seth’s car faded into the distance. Melissa walked out into the hallway. Spotting Sydney, her brow furrowed. “Liz? You okay?” Sydney looked over at Melissa, her face so full of concern that Sydney thought she might cry. “Yeah.” She forced herself to smile. “Just a bit worn out, that’s all.” Melissa laughed, then led Sydney to the living room and sat her on the couch. Sydney smiled, then stretched herself out along the length of the sofa, her head on one of the pillows. She glanced up at the pale ceiling, then closed her eyes and yawned. “So, Lizzie,” Melissa started, flopping into an armchair and putting her feet on the glass coffee table, “what do you want to do tomorrow?” “Mmph.” Sydney mumbled. “On my birthday? Absolutely nothing.” Melissa laughed again. Sydney listened to the timbre of it, wondering if hers sounded like that. She’s so happy… why is she always so happy? “Sorry Liz,” Melissa yawned, the time of night finally getting to her, “but you forget that your birthday was today. No special favors for you tomorrow!” “Great,” Sydney complained. “Just perfect.” I wish I’d told them when it really was. Maybe then I’d have the day off… Yet another thing she’d had to lie about when she left L.A. Her birthday. That’s it. Sydney stood up quickly, and then regretted it when the room wobbled. She put a hand to her forehead and sighed. “Well, Melissa,” she proclaimed, “I’m off to bed. Sweet dreams,” she added, walking past the armchair and patting her on the head. Melissa groaned in response, making Sydney smile. She headed up the stairs to her bedroom, silently praying for the serene dreams that everyone else seemed to always have, deserve. So why not her? * > It Begins < Prologue: Orlando |