Epilogue

Rowena gazed out the windows of the plane to see the sun rise brightly over the Atlantic ocean far below. As far up as she was, she could still see the white-crested waves beneath her.

Her brother had made no noise of waking from the other room, and Sydney slept deeply on the other side of the plane. She didn't blame them; she knew it was probably before six o'clock. Ten minutes ago she had brought coffee to the pilot, and he accepted it gratefully. It had been a long flight, but it was very nearly over. That was the reason she was awake; Rowena couldn't sleep for all the excitement of being home again.

An old tune sprung to her lips; she hummed absently, straining her eyes for a glimpse of her beloved green homeland. Looking up, she saw that Sydney had come to join her. Rowena patted the adjoining seat. "You slept well?"

Sydney smiled. "Better than some nights, and I have to say this plane is more comfortable than some." She sat down. "It looks like a pretty day out there."

"My aunt will be glad if the weather's good where she lives. She's not fond of rain."

They stared out at the rising sun for a few minutes; then it was too bright to look at. "What's she like? Your aunt, I mean."

"She's always busy doing something- work around the house, or projects for her church or her neighbors, things like that."

"Oh." Sydney tucked her legs up to her chest and shivered in the early morning chill. "Is she nice?"

"She loves everyone. Everybody calls her Aunt Mary. She-" Rowena was interrupted; Sark opened the back door and leaned in.

"I just called Aunt Mary- she's expecting us. Sydney, do you have any idea what the CIA tip line number is? I need to tell them where I left the information about the kidnappees. And will one of you ask the pilot when we're landing?"

Sydney rattled off a number from memory as Rowena went to talk to the pilot. Five minutes later, Rowena was relieved to learn that all the other teenagers she had been imprisoned with were on their way to being free, and Sydney was glad at the thought of breakfast waiting for them when they arrived at Aunt Mary's house.

As Sark pulled his car into the driveway of an old, though well-tended house, Rowena didn't even wait for the vehicle to stop moving before she flung herself out and towards a grey-haired, short woman standing by the front door. Sark and Sydney waited until the car was parked, then walked up the front sidewalk together, his arm holding her close to him.

"So this is Sydney Bristow, eh?" Aunt Mary asked, hands on her hips and looking at them both in a critical fashion. Sydney was nervous all over again. Aunt Mary raised an eyebrow. "Well? What're you waitin' for?" Suddenly she engulfed them both in a huge bear hug, and Sydney laughed at her apprehension.

After all the obligatory hugs and kisses were completed, Mary said, "Come in, all of you. I've got breakfast ready."

"Aunt Mary," Sark replied, "we need to get the luggage out of the car."

Suddenly the little old lady looked infinitely menacing, and Sydney was startled to note a deeper family resemblance between her and Sark. "Your bags won't get cold," she stated, "but your food will."

"Very well, then," Sark decided. Sydney hid a giggle behind her hand, but somehow her fiancé heard it and made a face at her. She stuck out her tongue at him, just as Rowena glanced back; she merely said, "Come on, you idiots. I'm hungry."

The idiots in question walked into the house, their fingers entwining as they grasped each other's hands.

The End