A/N: Hello, everyone! Sorry for the delay. It was hard to write the epilogue and say good bye to the story, but here it is, and I hope you like it.

Just a few words to my reviewers: thank you so, so much for reading and reviewing my fic. I read so many wonderful Alias fics over the years, but I never thought I would be able to write my own. I couldn't let go of this idea, though, so two years ago I wrote the first chapters of this fic, and from time to time (whenever I had a major crisis of Alias abstinence, which I do quite often) I'd go back to them. I decided to post the story because I wanted to know what other people would think of it and also because I hoped it would be an incentive to finish it. Well, it worked; I did finish it – mostly thanks to you guys. But I also gained much more from it. The best part of these last few months was writing and waiting to know what you would write in return. I loved every single one of your reviews; I'm thrilled that you gave part of your time to read what I wrote and leave me a comment. Believe me: you made this story much better than I ever thought it could be. It's yours too. Thank you so much!

Oh, and about writing other fics… I didn't think I would when I started this one, but now I'm seriously considering it. I'll miss you guys so much!

Epilogue

I enter the house at ten pm. It's dark in the foyer, but there is some light coming from the second floor. I leave my coat, my bag and my books on a nearby chair and make my way up the stairs. As I reach the last of the steps, I hear Vaughn's voice, softly humming a lullaby, coming from Isabelle's room. Standing at the doorway, I quietly watch my husband cradling our baby daughter in his arms. He sits with her in the rocking chair and holds her carefully, his head bowed to her, a smile on the lips.

Night after night, I come home and find them like that. Sometimes Isabelle is already peacefully asleep in her daddy's arms when I arrive; sometimes she is still full of energy, giggling in Vaughn's lap; but usually she is drifting off, fighting sleep just to give me a last smile and get a good night kiss from her Mommy.

I am biased, I know, but Isabelle is the most beautiful and the most gracious baby I've ever seen. She has sparkling green eyes like Vaughn's and her hair is a perfect mix of my brown and his sandy blond. She is funny and sweet, and I can already tell that she's smart and very sensitive. Sometimes she looks at us as if she knew how much we had to endure to finally be together and become a family; she seems to know that she is the happy ending of a real life fairy-tale.

As for me, I feel that she is our blessing. She brought so much love and so much happiness into our lives – even before being born.

When I found out that I was pregnant, Vaughn and I decided to leave the Agency. I became an assistant professor at the Università di Roma, teaching American Literature, and Vaughn got a job as an international liaison for a high technology firm based in Rome. It seems, though, that one never quits the CIA for good; we should have known.

When I was almost six months pregnant, Vaughn and I got a call: it was Dixon, who had become Director of the Joint Task Force. He asked us to go back to America. His argument: it could mean the end of Sloane. He had had his pardon agreement revoked – as we suspected, his humanitarian foundation was just a charade, another short cut in his on-going pursuit of Rambaldi – and he would be facing a new trial. The CIA wanted my dad, Vaughn and I to give depositions this time, since we couldn't do so on the first trial, and it ended the way it ended.

Such a request should have upset us; it meant spending at least a month in LA, and it was an awful time to be away from home. We were happily getting ready for the baby – taking Lamaze classes, decorating the nursery, buying cute little outfits and way too many toys. Plus, we were eagerly expecting Amélie's arrival. She had promised to stay sometime with us, to keep me company in the last months of pregnancy and then help with her grandchild. Even my Dad was entertaining the possibility of coming for a visit.

We ended up warming up to the idea, though. Instead of having Amélie and Dad come to us, we would go to them, and it would also be an opportunity to be with our friends, who we missed terribly. Weiss, Marshall, Leonid and even Hannah had left Rome less than a week after the Covenant takedown, and since then Vaughn and I hadn't have many opportunities to spend time with them. So we didn't complain about going to LA, even if our main reason to go was the unpleasant task of taking part in Sloane's trial. We asked Weiss to find us an apartment in his neighborhood, which he was thrilled to do, and got settled in this nice cozy place in Venice, near the beach and ten steps away from our best friend.

Apart from the long mornings in the Court House, things were great. LA was not the sad place, full of bad memories it had been for me at some point. Although Rome had truly become my home, I felt comfortable in America again, and it was great to have my friends around once more. Weiss had dinner with us almost every evening; Hannah practically moved in the apartment; Leonid, who was infatuated with the American way of life, came to visit quite often, and went on and on telling us about his favorite TV shows; Carrie and I went shopping for baby stuff and took Mitchell to the park; and Marshall came to see us in the weekends to tell us about his last invention: Teddy the bear ("because spies have children too"): a stuffed animal which could not only walk and sing, play drum and ride a monocycle, but also record hours of footage with the digital cameras implanted in its eyes, locate bugs and explosive devices with its powerful sniffer, say basic sentences in thirty different languages and teach rudiments of Math and Physics. (Vaughn soon started calling it the "Project Christmas Gift".)

Amélie threw me a baby shower in her house and invited all her friends. She seemed so proud to introduce me to them as her daughter-in-law… I had been worried about her reaction to knowing I lied to her son all that time, but in fact she wasn't upset at all.

"This is a wonderful love story." she said to Vaughn and me when we told her everything.

"Amélie, did you know? Did you know I was pretending to be Julia?" I asked her.

"Oh, Sydney… I knew you loved Michael and I knew he loved you. As for me, in three days you had my heart. I hoped you were just pretending, because that would make things easier, but I was confident that the two of you would end up sorting everything out whatever the circumstances. Looking at you is all it takes to know… there's no way you could be apart." She smiled and Vaughn took my hand, entwining our fingers. Amélie was right.

Dad seemed to really enjoy spending time with me – and with Vaughn, too. Sometimes I got home and found them talking pleasantly in the living room, and Dad didn't look at Vaughn as if he wasn't worthy of me anymore. It seemed that he had not simply accepted my choice, but fully approved it. Besides, he was truly excited about the baby, although he would always argue that he was too young to become a grandfather. I don't know if it was the idea of losing me for good or the time in jail, but he didn't seem so proud of his independent (aka lonely) life anymore. When I asked him about Mom, he glanced at me with a light expression.

"Well, Sydney, no one can hold on to Irina Derevko for long… but she promised to come visit soon." he sounded happy.

"She could visit in Rome…" I tried "What do you think, Dad?"

"I don't know." he said, and this was more than I expected.

"It would be nice to have you there, Jack." Vaughn said, entering the kitchen, where Dad and I had been talking.

"Thank you." Dad said, after a short silence. It wasn't an answer, not yet; but it was definitely something.

A few days after this talk, Vaughn and I decided to take a weekend trip to Santa Barbara. Once more, though, we didn't make it there. I don't have much of a recollection of what happened; I remember being in the car talking to Vaughn and then feeling a strong pressure on my belly, which soon turned into pain; then I must have fainted, because the next thing I remember is the hospital and a doctor trying to calm me down while doing an ultrasound. When I finally woke up again, I was lying on a hospital bed, with Vaughn holding my hand. The tears came to my eyes before I could ask him anything.

"Syd, it's fine. The baby is fine." He hastened to tell me, as I cried harder. "You had a placental abruption, but the doctors fixed it. It's okay now." he assured me.

"You promise?" I sobbed.

"Yes. I promise." He kissed my hand and then my forehead. "There's something, though: you'll need to stay on bed rest for the next months."

"But…"

"We can't go back now, Syd." He said seriously. And then added in a lighter tone: "I guess the baby wants to be born in America."

"A true patriot." I smiled.

"That she will be, for sure." he agreed.

"She?" I asked in a small voice. The baby had been playing hide-and-seek with us until that day.

"Oh yes. She." we shared a smile. We were having a daughter.

At first, I thought those next two months would be a living hell. I was allowed out of bed only to go the bathroom and take a quick shower. Amélie and Hannah came to stay with me permanently and Carrie, Weiss and my Dad made sure to stop by for at least half an hour every day. Vaughn would spend every second he had free by my side. Still, I could tell everyone was afraid I got depressed – and to be honest, so was I. In the end, though, it wasn't so bad. I spent most of the time rereading my favorite books, and Donovan would lie beside me in bed, with his head resting on my knee. Soon we became inseparable.

"Quite impressive." Vaughn said with a huge grin the first time he found the two of us together. "He's always hated Lauren."

"Oh, I knew you were a smart dog!" I said to Donovan, petting him as Vaughn laughed.

When we came back to Rome, I refused to let Donovan behind, and he became Isabelle's most faithful guardian. He's always close to her and she loves him. I smile watching him lying on the floor beside the rocking chair, snoring, also lulled by Vaughn's singing. Isabelle's eyes are closed now and her breath is deep and even; she's fast asleep, I can tell, but still her little hand has a tight grip on her daddy's finger. She's always done that, since they first met, when she was only hours old.

After a long night in the delivery room, Vaughn and I were talking in my bedroom at the hospital, grinning like fools and trying to choose a name – we couldn't make a decision – when the nurse came in bringing that pretty rosy baby wrapped in blankets. I took her in my arms and Vaughn sat behind me in bed, hugging us and touching Isabelle's cute little hand. As soon as he did this, she wrapped her small fingers around his. I chuckled softly and she must have felt it, because she opened her eyes and looked up at me. And I know, I know that newborns are not able to fix their sight at one point, but I swear that Isabelle and I shared our first glance just then. Her emerald green eyes looked deeply into my chocolate brown ones and I knew that I would love to get to know this girl, to share my life with her, to be in the world around her. I felt Vaughn press a kiss on my temple and a tear rolled down my face. We were a family.

Dad ended up coming to Rome with us. He lives in a nice apartment in Via Veneto and is the most perfect grandfather. Although Isabelle is only ten months old, he has already found out dozens of ways to spoil her, and she knows how much power she has over him. I love to watch the two of them together. I think Dad is trying to have with his granddaughter what he couldn't have with me, first because of his job and then because of my mother's betrayal. For years it hurt me – not having my father present in my life; I would always hope that we could be a normal nice family, he and I. Now I know that I wouldn't trade what we have for anything. What kept us apart for so long brought us together at the right time, and the bond we created is unbreakable. Isabelle will take the best out of it and she will be our redemption.

Mom came to visit once. She stayed with Dad and he brought her to the villa one afternoon. Amélie was here – she stayed with us for six months – and Vaughn and I were worried about her reaction. The atmosphere was tense for a while, but then when I went to check on Isabelle, who was taking her nap in the nursery, I found my mother and my mother-in-law playing together with their granddaughter, smiling and exchanging funny stories about me and Vaughn when we were little. I was astonished and so was Vaughn, who stood behind me by the door frame gaping at the scene.

"This little girl is a miracle worker." he said, and I had to agree. Of course my mother and Amélie will never be friends and there will always be bitterness and awkwardness between them, but the fact is that Isabelle really makes then put everything aside.

It's her gift: she brings people together. Even Weiss, who Vaughn and I chose as her godfather, is thinking about leaving the CIA and moving back to Rome – apparently it's becoming harder and harder to convince the Agency to sponsor his monthly trips to Italy just to see us. Plus, he says the spy world is boring with Sloane and Sark in prison for life. He is trying to convince Vaughn to quit his job and become his partner in a security system design business. "Marshall will do the hard work and we will become millionaire." he says. I actually hope they go for this plan. It would be great to have Weiss close again.

I'm brought back from my distant thoughts when Vaughn carefully stands to put Isabelle down in her crib. She shifts slightly, but doesn't wake up. He turns to me with a smile.

"You were spying on us again…" he says.

"You knew I was here…" I try to sound disappointed, but my happiness betrays me, showing on my voice.

"I always know."

"Oh, because you used to be a great spy..." I tease, but only because it's true.

"No. Because I love you; I can feel it when you're close." We share a smile and a kiss.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"Did you two enjoy your evening together?" I ask, leaning on the footboard of the crib and admiring my baby girl.

"Well, we missed you, but we had fun."

"Oh yes? What did you do?"

"We played hide-and-seek with Teddy the bear – he would always hide behind me, mind you…" he says with an impressively straight face and I laugh "…then we had our supper – delicious baby food – and I gave her a bath. How was your class?"

"Good. The students seem to be enjoying Fitzgerald."

"That's because you're a great professor." he smiles.

"Why, thank you!" I smile back. "Shall we have dinner? Or you're good with the baby food?"

"No! I'm hungry. I'm starving."

"Sorry. I promise my schedule will be better next semester: no classes after six." I assure him.

"Hey, it's okay. Don't worry about it." He kisses me. "Although I must say: Julia was always home for dinner. Perfect wife."

"Yeah… she was also a terrorist." I smile.

"Oh, I loved her anyway." he says, hugging me.

I nest my head on the crook of his neck and let out a deep sigh. I know he loved me; I know he always will, no matter what name, what alias I hide behind. He always finds me. We always find each other.