Tara doesn’t really care much about politics. Hasn’t, ever since she figured out she can near effortlessly roll with any situation that arises in whatever country she finds herself in.
One of the surprisingly many good things that came out of working with Ford's team is the specialized app Hardison put on her phone that makes it really easy to sift for crucial information. Knowledge, Tara has found, is the only power that counts.
Choosing what allegiances her current persona must have is the only brush with activism she needs – except for conning hardcore anti-abortion advocates whenever she can, because fuck them.
Around the time the grief had dragged Nate so far down that she could no longer follow, Maggie's own support group volunteering had reached a near-obsessive level. It had taken a therapist's help to tone it down and realize she wasn't letting Sam down if she took up and enjoyed other activities.
The people she bakes with twice a month now have become friends. About five times a year, she writes a letter to her current representative. What money she gives goes to charities that have passed Hardison's rigorous vetting process.
She still signs every health care-furthering petition she comes across and braces for the nightmares.
Sometimes, Sophie is a little afraid of herself and what she could do if she allowed herself. She's always had an ambitious streak, and Sophie Devereaux could topple - has toppled - and raised - a government.
It's fortunate that she found Nate to tide her over as a moral compass, in as much as he could be called that. It's fortunate that she had Eliot to get in her face when she needed it, Parker to teach, to learn from, and Hardison to create safety nets where there were none.
If all goes well, the woman she shaped out of who she wanted to be for herself and them won't look in a mirror some day and abhor the face in it.
Parker is a bit surprised at how many people have started out as early as she. As she stands in the line, she wonders again if she should have had Tammy Watkins move to Oregon.
Twenty seconds after the door opened, Alec sent her a text that read All done. Eliot called her plan a damn-near hopeless race against time.
She stomps her feet to keep her warmth and feels the plane tickets shift in her bra as she moves. They wouldn't have been able to go on the same routes even if her boys knew how to have fun.
Three people before her. Two, one, and it's on.
Today, all of Parker's American aliases are voting.