a_sloane

If you could be someone else, dead or alive, for a day. Who would it be? Why?

It was one of Judy Barnett's questions that were part of her attempt to provide psychoanalysis and intimacy at the same time, and naturally, I deflected it. Judy professed to disbelief.

"Not even Jack Bristow?" she asked. There was that element of challenge and annoying bit of truth in her voice which was the reason why my relationship with her was never just for one reason.

"Why, Dr. Barnett," I said. "What an interesting suggestion. I can see why you would assume this to be the case, of course..."

"Given the paternal role you insisted on playing for Sydney and what you told me about yourself and his wife, one could hardly avoid the conclusion," she said, daring me to refute it. Who was I to disappoint her?

"There is one obvious problem with actually being Jack, unfortunately," I said, leaning back and regarding her in her assurance she had found her key. It occured to me that being Judy for a day would be interesting for the fact that both Sydney and Jack trusted her enough to confide in her alone, but unfortunately, I was reasonably sure she had to listen to the dreary woes of Agent Vaughn as well, which was a definite deterrent.

"Even for a day?"

"Even for a day. If I actually were Jack, as opposed to... occasionally stepping in for him... I would not know him, would I? He would not exist."

To my surprise, she suddenly looked satisfied.

"And you could not live with that," she said. "Even for a day. Why, Arvin. What an interesting suggestion."

One should never underestimate benevolent psychiatrists.