B

Transmissão .::. Transcripts .::. Primeira Temporada .::. #1.10 Spirit

(Sydney comes to in a dark room without any windows. She's sitting on a cot with a bare mattress. She touches her neck where the gun was shot. She sits up, looks around and sees a door. Standing up, she starts to walk towards it but her foot is chained to the wall. She looks around and sits down, defeated.)

(Sloane's office. Rusik sits in front of his desk.)
SLOANE: We've known for some time that we had a mole, that someone was working against us. When you were in Geneva with Agent Bristow, we picked up a transmission. A third party. It confirmed what some in security section thought for weeks -- that Agent Bristow was that mole. When you were in the field with Bristow, there was no indication?
RUSIK: Nothing.
SLOANE: Hmm. Well, we need to determine the extent of damange done to us.
RUSIK: What can I do?
SLOANE: You have to convince Bristow that we believe the two of you were working together and that if she doesn't reveal to us the work that she's done against us, we'll torture you... to death.
RUSIK: Are you sure that will work?
SLOANE: Threat to colleague is a fundamental interrogation technique. Sydney in particular...
(He trails off, looking down.)
SLOANE: Yes. I think that she will respond.
(Rusik stands, preparing to leave.)
SLOANE: Mr. Rusik, you understand that we need to make it appear that you were questioned.
(He nods reluctantly.)

(In the room, Sydney looks up when the door opens and two agents holding Rusik walk in. Rusik is beaten and bloody. They throw him down on the bed, chain him to the wall, and walk out.)
RUSIK: They think I'm part of this...
SYDNEY: What do you mean?
RUSIK: Don't play games with me! You know what I'm talking about. A transmission was sent from our position in Geneva. At the bank. They know it was one of us. They want to know how much damage has been done to them. There's only one person in this room that can answer that question, Sydney. I don't know who you're working for, but I need you to tell them what you know. They said they're going to kill me, Sydney... slowly.
(Sydney steps closer and stares intently at him.)
SYDNEY: Do you believe them?
RUSIK: They're not bluffing.
SYDNEY: Do you believe them?
RUSIK: (blinking rapidly) Yes.
(Sydney stares.)

(At SD-6, Jack walks up to Sydney's desk and sees that it's spotless. Her computer's been removed.)
JACK: Has Sydney Bristow moved her desk?
AGENT: Nah. Security section cleared it out about an hour ago.

(Two agents with guns walk in.)
AGENT1: Get on your knees! Put your heads down on the floor! NOW!
(Sydney and Rusik do so immediately.)
AGENT1: Sloane wants to know if you're ready to talk to him.
(Rusik stares over at Sydney. She looks at him then stares at the ground.)
SYDNEY: No. Tell him I have nothing to say.

(Jack walks in to Steven's office -- security section operative.)
JACK: Steven, what's going on? Talk to me.
STEVEN: What do you know?
JACK: What do I know?
STEVEN: Have you talked to Sloane?
JACK: I came to you first.
STEVEN: You should talk to Sloane.
JACK: Steven, please--
STEVEN: Jack, just do me a favor--
JACK: I need you to tell me what's happening!
STEVEN: You didn't hear this from me. (pause) While Sydney and Rusik were in Geneva, a transmission was recorded from her location and it was not one of ours.
JACK: You think it was Sydney?
STEVEN: This is not the first indication that she... might be working for someone else.
JACK: What exactly do they know?
(Steven hands over a report on the situation. Jack starts reading it right away, his eyes searching through the page.)
STEVEN: Jack, I'm sorry.

(In the interrogation room, Sydney is belted into a chair. When that agent leaves, she tries to undo them but someone comes in wearing a lab coat. He puts rubber gloves on. He takes out a tape recorder and puts it on a tray near Sydney were some doctor's tools are resting. She breathes heavily.)

(Jack enters an empty room at SD-6, puts down his briefcase, and looks around.)

(The doctor holds up a stun gun, letting it flare. Sydney looks away.)
SYDNEY: My name is Sydney Bristow. I've seen you in the office. I always wondered what you did.
(He puts a band around her arm.)
SYDNEY: Aah! I guess this is what you do...
(The doctor takes out a large needle.)

(Marshall types on his computer. His face scrunches up.)

(In Sloane's office, he stares off in the distance. Marshall stands in front of him, holding a piece of paper.)
MARSHALL: Sir, I-I think you should see this.
(Sloane takes it. Marshall looks down. Sloane looks at him, shocked.)

(The doctor fills up the syringe with a pinkish liquid.)
SYDNEY: All I'm saying is, maybe you and I should talk before we get started...
(He's about to put the needle in her arm. He feels for a vein, is about to put the needle in... when the door opens and an agent walks in.)
AGENT1: Change of plans.

(Sloane's office. Sydney was brought there right from the interrogation room. She stands in front of his desk, looking like crap.)
SLOANE: For the past few weeks, you've been under suspicion. We knew we had a mole and there were signs that indicated that it was you. And then when you were in Geneva, we picked up a third-party transmission and it seemed to confirm that you betrayed SD-6. And what I just learned is that it wasn't your transmission. It was Rusik's.
SYDNEY: Rusik...

(Interrogation room. Rusik is thrown into the now vacated chair and is belted down.)
RUSIK: What is this? WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON? I want to talk to Sloane!
(The agents hold him down as the doctor gets out the same needle he was about to use on Sydney.)
RUSIK: I want to TALK TO SLOANE! No, no, no!
(They put the needle in.)
RUSIK: NOOOOOOOO!

(Back in Sloane's office. Sloane smiles and gets up, walks to her.)
SLOANE: Sydney... I never believed that you would betray us, and when I realized that it was Rusik who was the mole... I felt vindicated.
(He puts his arms out for a hug. Sydney stares at his smiling face. She puts her hands in his and smiles tightly.)

(Flower stand, day. Sydney stands, looking at the variety of flowers on display, smelling a few. Vaughn sits at the table next to the stand, pretending to read the paper.)
VAUGHN: That's impossible.
SYDNEY: I know.
VAUGHN: You're telling me that in Geneva, Rusik was transmitting to K-Directorate at the exact same time you were transmitting to the C.I.A.?
SYDNEY: And that SD-6 picke dup his transmission and not mine.
VAUGHN: You should know that the C.I.A. has no record of contact between him and Russian intelligence.
SYDNEY: In the cell, when Rusik was trying to get me to talk, I asked him questions about his interrogation. When he told me that they threatened to kill him, he was blinking at erratic intervals -- a classic indication that he was lying. So, I didn't talk only because I knew he wasn't in any real danger. Either Sloane still thinks I'm the mole and is using me somehow...
VAUGHN: No. If Sloane still suspected you, he wouldn't run the risk of letting you go free.
SYDNEY: Or two, Rusik actually is K-Directorate.
VAUGHN: Or three...
SYDNEY: Rusik was a sacrificial lamb. That he was innocent, was set up to get me out.
(She looks at Vaughn, peering at him suspiciously.)
SYDNEY: At first I thought maybe it was the C.I.A.
VAUGHN: No, it wasn't. The truth is, Rusik could very well have been working for the K-Directorate so let's just assume for the moment that you're the luckiest girl in town.
(He gets up and picks up a bag that was at his feet. It's a gift bag, with little snowmen on it. He stands next to Sydney and puts the bag down on the ground.)
SYDNEY: Sorry that I called you on the weekend. It's juust that I needed to talk to you.
VAUGHN: You don't ever have to apologize for calling me. Speaking of which, I got you something.
SYDNEY: What? No, you didn't.
VAUGHN: (embarrassed) I don't know. I was in this store, you know, um... this little antique place.
SYDNEY: (big smile) What were you doing in an antique store?
VAUGHN: I don't know. (laughs nervously) Whatever. Um, look, if you don't like it just... don't tell me.
SYDNEY: Okay.
VAUGHN: Merry Christmas.
SYDNEY: Merry Christmas.
(He walks away.)

(Sydney and Francie's. Amy and Will are playing "Boggle" with Sydney and Fran.)
FRANCIE: Is "harn" a word?
SYDNEY: It's crazy, Will.
FRANCIE: Time's up, time's up!
WILL: Hold on, hold on. (still writing)
FRANCIE: Stop, stop!
SYDNEY: Will!
WILL: Okay, okay.
SYDNEY: Who's going to go first? Okay, Amy?
AMY: No. Will?
WILL: Okay. "Numpce."
FRANCIE: Numpce? That's not a word. I challenge.
SYDNEY: I think numpce is a word.
(She gets out the dictionary next to her and starts flipping through the pages.)
WILL: Numpce is totally a word.
FRANCIE: So not a word.
WILL: I can't believe you're even questioning this.
SYDNEY: Here it is. (reading) "Numpce"--
WILL: Thank you.
SYDNEY: "A fool; a blockhead."
FRANCIE: All right, your brother's so annoying.
AMY: I got "numpce," too.
WILL: What? Dammit! Dammit!
FRANCIE: Dude! (laughs)
(Sydney's beeper goes off.)
SYDNEY: I got to go to work. I'm sorry.
(She gets up.)
WILL: Okay, this is ridiculous. Can we all have a talk about what you do for a living?
SYDNEY: I know. There are these bankruptcies...
WILL: Okay, you know what? It doesn't even make sense anymore. No one works as hard as you do. It's not like you're a brain surgeon, getting a call in the middle of the night to save a life. I mean, there are bankruptcies. How much are they paying you to live like this?
SYDNEY: Not enough.
WILL: I'm going to actually call them and quit for you right now.
SYDNEY: Will, I can't quit my job.
(Will gets up and walks to her.)
WILL: Why? Why? Because, like, you just have to be, like, the greatest banker?
SYDNEY: Will, it's my job. I want to do it well.
WILL: Okay, congratulations, me too. But at what cost? Syd, I think... I think you're acting like a numpce.
SYDNEY: Look, to you, my job might seem pointless and stupid but it's not. It's far from pointless and if you knew what I delt with every day, you might even thank me for doing my job so well!
WILL: (confused) What the hell are you talking about?
SYDNEY: Nothing. I'm going to work. I'll see you guys.
(She leaves.)

(SD-6. Meeting in the conference room with Jack, Sloane and Sydney.)
SLOANE: Anini Hassan is a wanted man. He's been selling arms to K-Directorate and is now, we believe, looking to partner up with one of a number of rogue nations. This is the last documented photograph of Hassan, taken almost a month ago in Madrid. Since then, we've put a lot of manpower into finding him. We've come up with nothing. Last week, thanks to Agent Bristow, we were able to seize a majority fo Mr. Hassan's assets. We were hoping that would help us to smoke him out. We think it has.
JACK: Sig int picked up a burst of communications originating from this private island.
SYDNEY: What's there?
JACK: Private resort. More hideout than hideaway. It's a fugitive's paradise -- extradition's notoriously lax. This entire place is heavily secure, but anyone can buy entry for a price.
SYDNEY: You think Hassan's there?
SLOANE: No, it's not likely. But he gave us a lead. Severin Driscoll. Former resident of the U.K., master forger, military advisor. And now self-employed. Semba Island has been his home over the past twelve years.
SYDNEY: You think Driscoll made Hassan new identity papers?
SLOANE: It's our best bet. You go in as Victoria King, daughter of industrialist Martin King. Your assignment is to locate Driscoll and ascertain the new identity of Anini Hassan.

(Later, Jack walks up to Sydney near her desk.)
JACK: Sydney. I heard about what happened. Are you all right?
SYDNEY: I'm fine.
JACK: Rusik. It was a shock.
SYDNEY: You didn't--
JACK: What?
SYDNEY: Have anything to do with that?
JACK: What? Do you mean did I engineer it somehow? No, Sydney, of course not.

(Self-storage facility; meeting with Vaughn.)
VAUGHN: He was killed. Rusik. Last night. In Kenya, if you do find Driscoll, and Hassan's new identity, if he has one--
SYDNEY: I'll keep it away from SD-6 and give it to you.

(In the electronics store, Neville and Will listen to the tape. The gunshots can be heard.)
NEVILLE: Hear that?
WILL: What?
NEVILLE: That pitch. Definitely nine-millimeter. That was a close-range hit. (gunshots) Twice in the chest. Once in the head.
WILL: Yeah. That's exactly how Eloise Kurtz was killed. Whoever sent me this tape wanted me to hear her getting killed. Why in the hell would he want that?
NEVILLE: You don't know if it's a he. You hear that? That delay before the last one? That's the one in the head.
WILL: Can we isolate that?
NEVILLE: Yeah, I can definitely improve on it.
(He starts clicking around his computer, making changes, playing it over and over again.)
WILL: See, this tape was made from that pin I gave you. It was from the bug.
NEVILLE: So, whoever paid that girl to say she was Kate Jones is the same person who gave her the pin, who is the same person who sent you the tape.
WILL: No, not necessarily. Someone else could have given her the pin, or replaced the one she had with a bug, and even if that was the same person, this thing was on a wireless transmitter so someone else could ahve made this tape.
NEVILLE: Hey, hey, we're getting somewhere.
WILL: Why would someone send the fake Kate Jones and want me to hear this?
NEVILLE: Wait, wait, shh.
WILL: What was that?
NEVILLE: Hold on.
(He plays the tape over again. This time the voices are much clearer and not garbled at all.)
MAN: Did you tell him about SD-6? About SD-6?!
WILL: "SD-6." "SD-6"? Play that back.
MAN: Did you tell him about SD-6??
WILL: What the--what the hell is SD-6?

(At Will's, Sydney drives up and knocks on his door. Will peers through the blinds and opens the door.)
WILL: Hey.
SYDNEY: I'm sorry that I was, like, snippy with you about my job.
WILL: Oh, you know, it's your job. You're allowed to be.
SYDNEY: I was a jerk. I'm sorry I was a jerk.
WILL: You don't have to apologize to me. I was just--I've just seen you working so hard lately, so I...
SYDNEY: Yeah, I know. That's why I'm here. I was talking to Francie and I need to do something that isn't job-related. So maybe the four of us could go to Lake Arrowhead or something for a few days next week. I mean, I've got a trip tonight--
WILL: (smiles) Of course you do.
SYDNEY: But I'm off all next week.
WILL: Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm in.
(A door closes somewhere in his house.)
SYDNEY: You're not here alone, are you?
(Jenny comes out wearing one of Will's shirts.)
JENNY: Hey.
SYDNEY: Hi, Jenny.
JENNY: Hi.
WILL: Do you, uh, do you want to come in?
SYDNEY: No, thanks. I'm going to go.
JENNY: Okay! It was good to see you though!
SYDNEY: You, too. Bye.
WILL: Bye.
(Will closes the door. Sydney starts walking to her car and stops.)
SYDNEY: Hmm.

(Kenya. Sydney waltzes in the lobby of the resort, wearing a long blonde curly wig and pink sunglasses. She approaches the counter.)
EMPLOYEE: May I help you?
SYDNEY: I'm Victoria King. You're expecting me.
EMPLOYEE: Welcome to Semba Island, Ms. King. Let me check on your suite. One moment please.

(Flashback to Marshall at SD-6.)
MARSHALL: Okay, um, this place you're going to is swank. I mean, it's, like, super-swank. Which is why I made you these puppies.
(He picks up the pink sunglasses.)
MARSHALL: Now, not only do they take pictures silently and have a telephoto lens, but...
(He puts them on and looks quite silly.)
MARSHALL: They're super-swank.

(Back on Semba, Sydney walks by the pool and looks around. She sees Driscoll and touches the arm of her glasses. They zoom in an take pictures of him and a bodyguard he has who stands nearby. Sydney turns to go back into the lobby and bumps into someone.)
SYDNEY: Oh, excuse me.
MAN: I'm sorry.
EMPLOYEE: Ms. King, your suite is ready. Enjoy your stay.
SYDNEY: I'll try.

(Later, Sydney sits on a lounge chair, wearing a black bikini and drinking. She walks over to where Driscoll sits and takes the chair next to him. Driscoll doesn't hide the fact that he's checking her out.)
SYDNEY: I'm very sorry about the music.
DRISCOLL: Excuse me?
SYDNEY: When I drink too much, I play my music too loudly. Last night, I drank too much.
(They smile flirtatiously.)
DRISCOLL: I didn't hear any music last night.
SYDNEY: That's impossible! You are the man from suite forty-seven?
DRISCOLL: No, I wish I were. Severin Driscoll.
SYDNEY: Victoria King. You look so familiar. Where are you staying?
DRISCOLL: I'm a resident here. Suite three-fifty. You, um, have... a standing invitation.
SYDNEY: I'm so embarrassed.
DRISCOLL: I like loud music.
SYDNEY: I'll see you around.
(She gets up and walks away.)

(In a parking garage, Will jogs up to a man.)
WILL: Mr. Stoller! Hi. Hi. I'm Will Tippin, I left you a message?
MR. STOLLER: Yeah.
WILL: How you doing? I'm a reporter and I'm doing research on something called SD-6. And I did a search for it, it came up with one match. It was a deposition from a case that you had tried, The People vs. David McNeil.
MR. STOLLER: Yeah. David McNeil's an old friend of mine.
WILL: Great. Do you recall a reference to SD-6?
MR. STOLLER: No, I'm sorry. I don't. Discovery lasted years.
WILL: Well, you know, I'm really trying to figure out what exactly SD-6 is. Do you think maybe Mr. McNeil was a part of it?
MR. STOLLER: David McNeil is a regular guy. A computer programmer. He started a business that people wanted to buy. One company in particular wouldn't take no for an answer and when David said no, that same day, the government started an investigation. He was charged with larceny after trust and eventually was sentenced to sixteen years.
WILL: If he's such an innocent, why'd he plea bargain?
(Pause.)
MR. STOLLER: His wife killed herself. His daughter -- my goddaughter -- now lives with my wife and I. David wantd to be sure nothing happened to her.
WILL: So you think Mrs. McNeil was murdered?

(Sydney walks down the hallway of the resort, pulls out a cell phone.)

(Flashback to Marshall.)
MARSHALL: Cell phone, right? Obviously a cell phone. But observe.
(He presses down and a card slides out from the phone.)
MARSHALL: This unscrambles any standard jeri-code key card system, which is what they use on Semba Island.

(Back at the resort, Sydney looks at the phone and takes out the card. She inserts it into the lock on door 350. Inside, she shuts the door behind her and quickly starts looking around Driscoll's room. Outside, the bodyguard walks down the hall to the room. Sydney goes to the desk and rifles through the papers and finds several passports. The bodyguard walks down the hall, coming closer. Sydney moves to the computer and starts typing. The bodyguard enters and she looks up. He takes out a gun and points it at her.)
BODYGUARD: Who the hell are you?
SYDNEY: Where the HELL is Severin? He was supposed to meet me here twenty minutes ago! You are pointing that gun at me! Put that down!!
BODYGUARD: Who are you?
SYDNEY: Who am I?! Well, look at me closely. You don't know this face? You don't know who I am?
BODYGUARD: No.
(Sydney grabs his arm and elbows him in the stomach. He grunts she kicks his arm and then kicks him in the stomach. The force of the kick sends him tumbling backwards against the glass wall dividing the room. The wall shatters and the bodyguard is sprawled out on the floor. Sydney stares. Behind the wall is a doctor's chair, an IV bag and a monitor. She inches closer, looking at the pictures on the monitor. She clicks a button. A picture of the old Hassan and the new Hassan. Sydney remembers bumping into the man downstairs...)
MAN: I'm sorry.
(It's him -- Hassan. With a new face. She remembers seeing him shoot his colleague in front of her.)
HASSAN: I'm sorry you had to see that.
(Same voice. Same guy.)

(Sloane's office. He talks to Jack.)
SLOANE: Anini Hassan doesn't just have a new name; he has a new face, and is living in Havana. He's now using the alias Nebseni Sahd, and as you know, he broke an agreement with SD-6. He has stolen from us. The whole community is watching. We need to set an example with Hassan.
JACK: Any intel about where in Havana he might be?
SLOANE: No, we don't know. That's why I'm sending you to Cuba. I need you to rendezvous with the usual contacts. Locate Hassan and take care of it. Thank you.
JACK: I heard about Rusik. And now with Hassan... I understand it's been a difficult week.
(Pause.)
SLOANE: One night... God, this is years ago... maybe two years before you and I met, I'd just finished my first far east briefing at the White House. I was new to the C.I.A. After the meting, everyone got into a limousine to head back to Langley but I didn't. I told them I was going to walk for a while. They all looke at me sort of funny. I mean, it was a cold night so I said I needed to get some air, but the truth is... I was overcome. It had occurred to me, as I was walking down the White House steps that I was living in a perfect moment. Everything was filled with promise. My role at the C.I.A., my relationship with a wife that I had not yet met. Still, I could feel a darkness coming so I wandered around for a while. Ended up at the Jefferson Memorial. It's always my favorite one. Looked out across the basin. Lincoln right there. I didn't know how it would finally materialize -- the darkness. I had nothing to base it on. It wasn't as if the C.I.A. had just betrayed me, that my wife had just been diagnosed with lymphoma. None of that had happened yet. So, whenever life takes an unfortunate turn, as it has this week, I just remind myself that I could see it coming all along. I want Hassan... dead. Before the weekend.

(Self-storage. Sydney takes out some files for Vaughn.)
SYDNEY: Hassan's new identity if Nebseni Sahd and uh, this is his passport number. I got back to Los Angeles and met with Sloane. I told him that Kenya was a failure, that I was unable to find out Hassan's new identity.
VAUGHN: Sloane found out last night, that Hassan... or whatever his name is now... is in Cuba. Sloane sent your father to Cuba to kill Hassan. After your father mete with Sloane, he met with me.

(Said meeting, in a van parked in an alley.)
JACK: I'm leaving for Cuba in thirty minutes. What's the countermission?
VAUGHN: Sloane might want Hassan dead, but the C.I.A. needs him alive. We need his client list. It'll tell us what weapons he sold. Who's got them. It's invaluable.
JACK: Mr. Vaughn, I don't need a lesson in the international arms trade.
VAUGHN: Fine. Go to Cuba, use your contacts, get to Hassan. But instead of taking him out, you'll tell him the truth. That SD-6 sent you to kill him. You'll then convince him that you're turning on SD-6, that you're planning on leaving them, and that you're willing to fake his death in exchange for his client list.
JACK: You're making a huge mistake.
VAUGHN: (pissed) Am I?
JACK: Trusting a man like Hassan.
VAUGHN: There will be a C.I.A. team waiting there where his death is to be faked. Hassan will never be a free man again.

(Back in the self-storage.)
SYDNEY: And that's all that happened?
VAUGHN: That's it. Your father's getting Hassan for the C.I.A.
(Sydney stares at him intently. She suspects he's lying.)
VAUGHN: What?
SYDNEY: Nothing. I got to go, I've got friends coming.
VAUGHN: Francie, right?
SYDNEY: Yeah, and Will.
VAUGHN: Will.
(He nods like he knows who Will is.)
SYDNEY: I'll see you.
VAUGHN: Okay.
(She leaves and Vaughn sighs.)

(Back to the meeting with Jack... what Vaughn lied about.)
VAUGHN: Hassan will never be a free man again.
JACK: I'll make contact by six pm tomorrow.
(Jack stands up to leave.)
VAUGN: I got a copy of Rusik's transmission. The one SD-6 intercepted.
(Jack turns.)
VAUGHN: I also went through the C.I.A. logs and compared the two. They don't match. You fixed the transmission. Made it look like it was Rusik by altering the signal's point of origin and changing the message contact.
(Jack is seething with anger.)
JACK: Whoever the hell you think you are -- checking up on me, pulling my file, second-guessing my choices -- let's just both face the facts. You're not that person. Neither your experience, nor your intelligence has earned you the right to question a thing that I do. Now, I'm going to make two suggestions. One, that you stop it. And two, that the next time they assign you to be my handler, you kindly decline.
VAUGHN: Rusik never transmitted a thing, did he?
JACK: Of course he didn't. If you got the SD-6 transmission, why the hell are you asking me?
VAUGHN: I never got the SD-6 transmission. It was just a hunch.
(Pause.)
JACK: I'd just learned that my daughter was about to be tortured, Mr. Vaughn. Most likely, executed. I had no time to go for help.

(From earlier, Jack walks in the empty room, puts his briefcase down on the table and looks around. He opens the briefcase, moves the false bottom and finds a small circular object that looks about the size of a smoke detector next to his laptop. He walks into the computer room where a guy stands around.)
JACK: Some of the monitors went out int he op tech room. I want you to check every connection. NOW!
(The guy runs out, terrified of Jack. Now that he's alone, Jack slaps the object on the side of the server and walks out. In the room where he was before, he starts typing on his laptop.)
JACK: (voice over) I knew that altering the transmission was a dangerous gamble. Thye could have detected a disruption, but it was all I could do.
(Later, Jack walks outside Sloane's office and sees that moment when Sloane outstretched his arms and Sydney put her hands in his. Jack watches them and walks away. Back in the van with Vaughn...)
JACK: And now, you can judge what I've done. I don't give a damn what you do.
(He leaves.)

(At Sydney and Francie's, Will walks in Sydney's bedroom with snowshoes on. He carries a glass of red wine. Sydney comes out of her adjoining bathroom, brushing her wet hair.)
WILL: Syd?
SYDNEY: Thank you!
(She takes the glass of wine and takes a drink.)
SYDNEY: Still got the shoes on?
WILL: Yeah, have you ever worn snowhoes before?
SYDNEY: Nuh uh.
WILL: Oh, you gotta get with the program. There's, like, an artform to this.
(He sees Vaughn's present sitting on her bed.)
WILL: What's that?
SYDNEY: Oh, nothing. That's... some guy at work gave it to me.
WILL: Oh, yeah? Not Dixon.
SYDNEY: No, he's still recovering. Just... some other guy.
WILL: Some guy? Do I know him?
(He picks up the bag, leaving it dangle off his finger.)
SYDNEY: No, he's no one.
WILL: Really?
(You can tell Will's jealous.)
WILL: He's just... some guy. That's nice. That's nice. No, that he, you know, that he... that he gave you that.
(He takes her glass of wine from her, takes a drink.)
SYDNEY: I don't know. It was weird.
WILL: Why? How come?
SYDNEY: I don't know.
(She takes the glass back.)
WILL: Maybe he likes you.
SYDNEY: No!
WILL: Maybe he does.
SYDNEY: No, he doesn't like me.
WILL: If he knows you, Syd, chances are he likes you.
SYDNEY: He doesn't like me the way Jenny likes you.
WILL: The way Jenny? Oh, come on.
SYDNEY: She looked nice in your shirt, by the way.
WILL: It's a nice shirt.
SYDNEY: Nice and snug.
WILL: Okay, easy with the cheap shots.
SYDNEY: I'm sorry, it was very flattering. (takes a drink)
WILL: Whatever. I was just saying that I think that--
FRANCIE: (off screen) WILL!
WILL: (shouts back) Okay! Iron Chef in there needs me.
(They smile goofily at each other. Will clambers out of the room, still wearing the snowshoes.)

(Out in the kitchen...)
WILL: So, this guy gave her a Christmas present in there. You know, some guy from the office. Some guy.
FRANCIE: So?
WILL: You didn't know about it?
FRANCIE: Know what? What's to know? I did hear about you, though.
WILL: About what?
FRANCIE: About you and the cheerleader.
WILL: Okay, first of all, she's not a cheerleader anymore and second, the relationship doesn't mean anything.
FRANCIE: Mmm-hmm.

(In her bedroom, Sydney looks at the gift bag from Vaughn and opens it. She takes off the pink tissue paper and finds an antique picture frame. She smiles. You can tell she loves it. Right away, she pulls down her hat box and starts going through the pictures, finding the perfect one for it. She sees one of her and her mom. She's about to put it in when she sees a picture of little Sydney and Jack. She's on his shoulders, and Jack has a smile on his face for once. She stares at it.)

(Self-storage.)
SYDNEY: I found this old picture. Me and my father. I was just staring at it and for some reason, I remember asking him about Santa Claus.
VAUGHN: Santa Claus.
SYDNEY: Yeah. If he was real. If Santa Claus was real. My father would answer me in this... flat, factual way. "Yes, of course he's real." Every time I asked. The