Nothing to Write Home About: Bad Habit

How could I have been so blind for all these years
Guess I only see the truth through all this fear
Living without you
-- Three Doors Down, Here By Me

Sydney Bristow loved Europe.

Sydney's world was always passing her by at warp speed. Time moved in heartbeats, and even when she took the time to count each pitter patter, in those aching moments when every second counted, she found herself never able to pause, take a breath.

Europe always came with a purpose. Sydney Bristow hadn't taken a vacation in... well, ever, and now, standing along on a bridge in Venice, she found herself biting her lower lip, watching the gondolas and the cheery tourists chattering away as they lounged below her.

She was envious at their bright eyes and unburdened hearts. Sydney had forgotten what it was like, to be somewhere with someone for no other reason than to live for that exact moment.

Even now, she pushed up her sunglasses against the bridge of her nose and sighed, glancing behind her, shrewdly taking in vantage points, dark corners, floating over the tourists to pick out the familiar and uncertain.

Sydney loved Europe, but never enjoyed coming here.

Still, her heart gave a curious jump as she took in a brunette, turning onto to the bridge, steps slow and deliberate, a bemused, carefee smile on her face.

Swiveling her head back to the glistening canal, Sydney's reaction was immaculate, discipline revealed only a tick near her jaw at recognizing her cousin.

She waited, taking in the sparkles of the sun bouncing off the water, hearing the clomp of Marina's boots before she brushed past her, Marina barely skimming her side as she kept going, down the other side of the bridge, turning into a cobbled alley, leaving Sydney alone again.

Sydney grimaced, waiting another thirty seconds before she dug into her pocket, feigning cold, to discover it was now empty, the small transmitter she planted gone.

A burst of static, and she heard her cousin again. "Allo, Sydney."

"You're getting sloppy," she said matter-of-factly. "I felt that."

"Only because I wanted you to," Marina answered crisply. "You looked lonely on that bridge - perhaps it was a pick pocket of affection."

The dry humor of her cousin managed to pull a reluctant grin to her lips. "You have the most twisted intentions."

"I do my best."

"What's going on?" she asked, low and careful, kicking up a booted foot to raise herself slightly, taking in another boat, sounds of Italian song floating up at her. "We agreed not to meet for another few months - it was risky enough in Hong Kong."

"Hong Kong was an exception," Marina agreed, a hint of laughter in her voice, and even Sydney managed an ill-advised grin at the adventure. Following Marina to stop her from getting herself killed was a regular hobby of hers, but having it end in a shot gun wedding of their friends had never happened before.

Still, it had raised enough questions of commitment from Vaughn to bring her to where she was now, alone and confused, and for that, the smile faded.

"We can't make too many of those," she said, suddenly exhausted. "Marina - I do have a job to do, you know. Not all of us can make a living doing freelance illegal activities."

"Don't sound so jealous," Marina said tartly, accented voice rounding out the syllables comically. "You're much too moral to even attempt such a life."

"And who would know more than the amoral European Bitch."

"You and Shane keep using that term as if it has any affect on me. If anything, it's a compliment."

Stifling the roll of her eyes, Sydney plopped back down to the stone of the bridge. "Your point, Marina?"

"I asked you here because I need your help, Sydney."

Sydney's chest tightened, and she found herself holding her breath, a sign of frustration. Letting it out, she managed, "Please don't tell me you're planning on stealing something so soon. Marina. You promised to lay low - it's hard enough keeping the CIA from-"

"This needs to be stolen," Marina said, interrupting.

"Oh? What exactly is that's so precious that you can't help yourself? Another crown jewel? Some Rambaldi thing we should be stealing first?"

"None of those things."

"Then what?"

"I need you to help me steal a baby."

Lena's face was all angles and pain.

Removing the transmitter from her ear, Marina took the moment to study her, the elegant European standing at the window, lost in thought.

"Well?" she asked, Polish accent making her Italian thicker than Marina's.

"She's willing to hear me out," Marina said, "But she isn't happy."

Lena shook her head, pushing away from the window. "I don’t see why you had to bring the CIA in to begin with, Marina."

"I am not bringing in the CIA," Marina snapped. "Sydney is the person I trust most in this world, and she is the best spy the United States has."

Lena scoffed. "That isn't saying much."

Marina let the veiled insult go. Already, the woman was on edge, pacing around the hotel room with agitated expression, lean, lanky body awkward.

"The longer we wait the less chance that little girl has."

This was not the Lena she remembered. Marina remembered a hardened woman, beautifully seductive and capable of anything to achieve her needs.

Years later, she masked her pain well, but it was there now, on her sleeve, in her eyes, at the mere mention of the woman and her baby.

"If we attempt to do this unprepared." Marina began methodically, "Then she is dead. I know the life that hangs in the balance is precious, Lena. Allow me to do this to the best of my ability."

Lena sighed, and Marina followed suit, exhaling as she stood, gentle as she kneaded fingers into her former lover's shoulders, feeling the woman resist, and suddenly let go, head dropping.

"I just - I think of Bianca in that pain, and I just... I can't even seem to think straight," she managed. "She has endured so much, Marina, for her baby to be snatched again."

Again. Marina pursed her lips and eyed the door, and in a burst of affection, curled an arm around Lena, letting the taller woman sink into her chest.

"We will find the child," she whispered, brushing her mouth against Lena's swanlike neck. "We will not let her down."

Lena had been notorious for her espionage, and suddenly and without warning, like Marina, she had disappeared, into Pine Valley. There, she had found her own Jenny: a brunette, a Kane, no less, who had taken her heart and broken her in the process.

Just like Marina's love affair, it had ended badly. Just like Marina, she was back into her old world - darker and deeper than before.

What before had been a fleeting acquaintance of sex and mistrust was now a friendship Marina cherished.

The sex that sometimes happened was more a bad habit than anything else.

There was a rap on the door, a pointed, casual knock that immediately alerted Marina to the visitor.

"She's here," she said, moving around Lena and, always carefully, placing a deliberate palm on the butt of her gun before she opened the door.

Sydney didn't wait - moving fast, she batted away Marina's gun and closed the door behind her, eyes sharp and narrow.

"What the hell is going on?"

Paris was supposed to be a dream.

Nothing bad was supposed to happen in Paris.

And here they were, less than six months since they had come, and Maggie Stone felt like she was crawling out of her skin, being flayed alive.

She sat in a crumpled heap at the foot of her bed, eyes dry, heart in a curious numbed state. Inside her, the maelstrom of emotions raged, causing physical pain that culminated in a lump in her throat, painful and large.

And still she sat immobile, eyes staring straight ahead at the door, finding it impossible to move for fear she would lose control, tip the precarious balance between desperation and nausea.

She hadn't felt like this since the day Bianca had told her about the rape, when she had held Bianca in her arms, helpless and filled with rage, warding off Michael Cambias from Bianca's dreams, promising herself she'd kill him for what he had done to the woman she cherished most in this world.

But this was worse. This was so much worse, because this was all her fault.

It was all her fault.

Tears began to suddenly drip against her cheek, trailing down to pool against her nostril, and she did nothing to wipe them away.

The door swung open, bring in unintended light, framing Bianca Montgomery's brunette hair like a halo. "Maggie? Oh my God-"

Maggie blinked, frozen in her despair, and now she tried hard to backpeddle against the tide of her emotion, voice rough as she struggled to her feet, tried to ignore the pain swelling against her side. "Are you okay? Where'd you-"

"Oh my God-" Bianca was at her side now, slender fingers wrapping around her wrist, bringing them both back down to the floor. "What are you doing?"

"This is all my fault," Maggie managed, eyes suddenly unseeing.

"Maggie, no-"

"It was. I was here. I was alone with her. I could have done something-"

"Maggie-" Bianca's voice was rough, determined, but Maggie couldn't hear her, suddenly lost in the memory.

"I should have done something else-"

"MAGGIE, LISTEN!" Hands palmed her cheeks, forced her to look into red-rimmed eyes, a tear stained face. "There was nothing you could have done. They left you unconscious, Maggie."

"Why don't you hate me?" she whispered, eyes dark, voice filled with self loathing. "They took your baby, Bianca, and I was here, I was supposed to take care of her-"

"Stop it," Bianca snapped, and suddenly she was in her arms, sobbing into sweet smelling skin, clutching at Bianca so desperately, and it was so stupid, because it was Bianca who had already endured so much, who should have been being comforted, not her. And still she clung to her, suddenly desperate for Bianca's love, a reason to at least exist. "I can't have you fall apart on me, Maggie. I need you right now, more than ever-"

Maggie clung to her, buried in Bianca's embrace, her heart broken, but her tears slowed, and when she looked up and spied Miranda's empty cradle, she pulled Bianca in closer, held her as tightly as she could.

Marina had bewildered her.

Sydney Bristow had a lot on her mind, and unfortunately, it shrunk her heart slightly. This wasn't her territory, and right now, she could fathom no reason why Marina would have dragged her thousands of miles for this. Not when it was life threatening just to be seen in her cousin's company.

"Why haven't the police been called?" Sydney Bristow was all business and matter-of-fact tact. "If this is a kidnapping-"

"This is more than a kidnapping, Sydney," Marina interrupted, arms crossed, sliding a sidelong glance to Lena before the affected woman could respond. "This is not a normal child."

Sydney's eyes narrowed, and she waited for an explanation.

"This child is the grand daughter of Erica Kane," Lena managed.

"Erica Kane," Sydney repeated, until her eyes flickered in recognition. "Wait - as in Enchantment Cosmetics? Erica the Diva of all things Make Up Kane?"

"Her daughter is chairmen of the board for Cambias Industries," Marina continued, letting that sink in before she continued, "Miranda is her daughter. You remember the stories in the paper."

While the Hiltons were the darlings of the media, every once in a while, a reporter could find a juicy snippet regarding Erika Kane and her tumultuous brood: Kendall Hart and Bianca Montgomery.

Sydney didn't pay much attention to the tattlers - she had no time for it, but Alice, Shane's friend, did and the fact that Bianca Montgomery was the only openly gay debutante/heiress out there only fueled the bisexual journalist's curiosity.

"God," Sydney remembered her clucking, fingernail tracing the face of the woman on the black and white parchment, "First she's raped, and gets knocked up, then she kills the guy in blind rage, keeps the baby anyway and the baby dies? That just sucks."

The heartbreak of the story had caught Sydney's attention, and Shane noticed the flicker in her eyes, because her partner added, "But the kid didn't die. She got the baby back, right? So there's a happy ending."

Sydney knew about scars, but she hadn't mentioned about things that festered or the fact that she didn't believe in happy endings.

She closed her eyes, took a moment to run her fingers along her forehead before glancing up. "This is really sad," she admitted. "But, Marina - I can't just take time out of the CIA just to help find this baby-"

"I told you," Lena snapped, taking Sydney by surprise with her vehement anger. "She would not help us."

"Lena, calm down," Marina instructed, arm outstretched to hold onto Lena's. The other European shook her off.

"We should do this ourselves."

"And where would it get us?" Marina argued. "I am a thief - not a killer. Your specialty was corporate espionage - you know nothing of guns and violence. Sydney, we simply cannot go to the police. There is a measure of corruption, you know that. And the kidnappers are not amateurs. If this gets out the publicity could hurt Miranda more than it would help."

"Do you know this woman or something?" Sydney asked.

"Sydney-"

"Just tell me why this is a personal investment for you."

Marina sighed, and Sydney held her gaze, heart stuttering at the aggravated resignation in her cousin's glance.

"You would have more of one that I would."

Unsure, Sydney quirked an eyebrow.

"The kidnapper, Sydney. Not just anyone would dare to touch a Kane - they hold grudges very well. The women that did this - she has ..." Marina searched for the American slang to illustrate her point. "Balls," she finally finished.

"Who does?"

"The kidnapper is Anna Espinosa."

"I'm sorry."

Maggie had said it a million times, and she meant it every single time.

Bianca looked almost tired of hearing it, but Maggie took no offense. They hadn't moved, instead stayed the way they had ended up, sitting against the foot of the bed, fingers entangled, exhausted from emotion.

Finally, Maggie was regaining some semblance of control, fueled by her instinct to protect Bianca, somehow make this all right.

"Did you call the police?" she began.

"No," Bianca said distantly. "You heard them - they said no police-"

"Bianca, you can't just let them get away with this. The police-"

"They said they'd kill her and I believed them, Maggie," Bianca snapped, a sharp edge in her tone that caused Maggie's words to die in her throat. Her chest physically hurt from the tension within it, and she was bruised, beaten physically. Rubbing at the blue splotches on her arm, she glanced down, head shaking.

"Maybe we can call Pine Valley, call Aiden-"

"Aiden has been there so long he has no contacts here. If he finds out, so will my mother, and I can't do this to her right now." Bianca's eyes closed, and once again, Maggie found herself overwhelmed at the pain on Bianca's face.

This was Bianca's worst nightmare, and Maggie was living it with her.

There had to be something they could have done. Miranda was out there, their sweet little girl taken by killers, and Maggie couldn't just stand by and leave her to fate.

It would kill Bianca. It would kill her.

Their hearts were already broken and Maggie feared more of this would break Bianca for good.

She was still, hands to herself, unsure of what to do.

Soft skin suddenly caressed her palm, and Maggie's heart stuttered when Bianca lay her head into her lap, wrapping arms around her knees.

Maggie's fingers slid through the soft brunette strands, eyes stinging with unshed tears.

"Bianca," she managed, and then fell silent. There was nothing she could say.

In the end, it was Bianca who managed to stun her into feeling something other than sadness.

"I called Lena."