* Please do not archive without the author's permission.

Summary: An extraordinary circumstance brings Jarod and Miss Parker together, but can they stop fighting long enough to survive?

Disclaimer: The characters of this story belong to "The Pretender," a protected trademark of MTM Television and NBC. They have been used without permission for the purpose of fan fiction and not for any type of compensation. The events are my invention and any resemblance to real events are purely coincidental.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Ms. Parker put on the pair of sunglasses from her dashboard as the hot West Indies' sun became painfully bright. A cloud of dust swirled around her car, forcing her to squint to see the road ahead of her.

Despite these discomforts, she was glad that she was here instead of in Delaware where the worst blizzard in twenty years was currently inflicting some damage. She'd nearly gone crazy with cabin fever at work, coming very close to pulling the trigger when the bimbo, otherwise known as her new secretary, brought her the wrong kind of coffee. Even her father had agreed it was time for her to go on a vacation.

Ms. Parker felt her silk shirt begin to wilt in the intensifying heat and cranked the air conditioner on high, letting it blow back wisps of hair dampened by sweat during the couple of seconds it took her to find her rental car at the one-room airport's parking lot.

She was oblivious to the lush, green countryside that whizzed past her at a dizzying speed; all her attention was directed at the brochure on her passenger seat, the picture of a resort by the beach promising a respite from her active schedule.

Ms. Parker could already feel herself beginning to relax as an upbeat merengue song began to play on the radio, the tight knot at the back of her neck loosening with each drum beat. She couldn't remember the last time she felt this great. Definitely not since she started chasing that lab rat around the country.

She felt the tension on her shoulder begin to act up again at the thought of work, and she quickly discarded it aside for something more entertaining, namely what she would do during her vacation.

Thoughts of cool, tall glasses of tequila danced through her head. She was just getting into a daydream consisting of said beverage, the beach, and a cute cabana boy named Ricardo when she remembered that it was Mexico who was known for its tequila. She frowned. What the hell was this part of the world known for then?

Ms. Parker looked outside and found herself facing a group of people, their skin a rich shade of bronze from hours of working on the roadside sugarcane plantations. Oh, that's right. Rum.

Her mind was about to wander back to her daydream, this time a cool glass of rum in her hand as Ricardo walked towards her with nothing else but a smile, when she caught sight of the resort in the distance.

The hotel was huge. Its blinding, white walls stretched on forever with the thick pillars that held up the veranda its only decoration. But what really caught her attention was the main attraction. Azure water sparkled brilliantly before her, as if thousands of diamonds hid beneath its depth. The gentle roar of the waves crashing into the sand called out her name, and she found herself pushing the gas pedal even harder so that she could officially start her vacation.

Ms. Parker was relieved to find the hotel staff already outside and waiting, looking uncomfortable in their tacky, red blazers. It took all her willpower not to grab her luggage herself as they unloaded her car with agonizing slowness.

Even the two minutes it took her to register in the lobby felt like it lasted an eternity. She was so bored that her mind kept wandering over to more entertaining things that she could be doing already, causing the frazzled clerk to ask her everything twice.

By the time Ms. Parker got herself a glass of rum and a prime spot in the sand, the sun had already begun to set. She admired the view and let out a soft, happy sigh as she felt herself relax completely.

She was so relaxed, in fact, that if somebody had mentioned Jarod right then, she would have probably taken a sip of her drink with enough cool to put James Dean to shame and asked, "Jarod who?"

The sound of a radio playing loudly cut through Ms. Parker's euphoria, and she turned around to snap at the group of teenage girls sunbathing behind her. She had just opened her mouth when she heard one of them ask someone out of her line of vision if he was the cabana boy.

"For the moment." The deep, sexy voice sent a shiver down her spine. Her earlier daydream of a hunky cabana boy named Ricardo flashed through her mind, distracting her enough to momentarily forget what she was about to do.

Ms. Parker put on her best 'come hither' smile as she turned around to meet the boy toy of her dreams. Her eyes landed on a pair of black trunks, and she slowly dragged it upwards: past tanned arms holding a stack of the hotel's distinctive blue and white towels, past a sprinkling of dark hair covering a well-defined torso, and up into a familiar smirking face.

"Jarod?!" She could feel the tight knot in the back of her neck come back with a vengeance, the anxiety she'd tried so hard to shed rising with each second that she sat staring at him. Damn it. Was a week away from anything work related too much to ask?

She tensed up even more as another unwelcomed thought popped into her head. She had checked him out. She had checked out the lab rat and *enjoyed* it. Ugh.

"What are you doing here?" Ms. Parker demanded icily.

Jarod's smirk only widened under her glare. Bastard. "Is that any way to greet an old friend?"

"We were never 'friends.'"

"That's funny. I remember a ten-year-old girl making me promise once to never leave her side."

"Well it's not like you kept it, did you?" she answered, unable to take away the bitterness that accompanied it despite her efforts.

Jarod's face softened as he squatted down in front of her. "Ms. Parker. . ."

"What. Are. You. Doing. Here?" she interrupted, enunciating every single word slowly as though she was talking to a mentally retarded child.

"Working as a cabana boy."

"Why?"

The exasperating smirk was back on his face as he answered, "Why not?"

Ms. Parker stood up, already sick of a conversation that was bound to go around in circles. She didn't even know what possessed her to talk to him this long.

She brushed away the grains of sand that clung stubbornly to her swimsuit and headed towards the hotel, intent on informing the Centre of Jarod's whereabouts.

"I wouldn't bother calling them if I were you," he yelled out before she could walk more than a couple of feet away from him. "The blizzard's knocked down the phone lines in Delaware and half of the eastern seaboard."

"And how would you know?"

Jarod gave a careless shrug before reclining on her abandoned beach towel. "It's all over the news. Feel free to try calling them if you'd like; I was only trying to save you the trouble."

"How considerate of you," Ms. Parker replied sarcastically. "I think I'll try calling them anyway, if you don't mind."

His only answer to that was another shrug before turning on his stomach to get a more even tan.

******

It didn't take Ms. Parker long to get to her room. Once there, she took the cell phone out of her purse and dialed the Centre's number.

Red fingernails tapped impatiently on white wicker as she waited for her phone call to get through. She stared outside her window to see if Jarod was still where she left him but couldn't distinguish him from the rest of the crowd.

"I'm sorry. The number you have dialed is not in service. Please hang up and try."

Ms. Parker savagely closed her phone and threw it on the bed. "Damn it!"

******

It was another couple of hours before Ms. Parker ventured out of her room again, the rumbling in her stomach overriding her frustration at her inability to take any actions against Jarod.

She even began enjoying herself again as she sat on the veranda, listening to the soothing sound of the water lapping against the sand intermingling with the sounds of the hotel band playing "A Kiss to Build a Dream On."

Ms. Parker took an appreciative look at her surroundings. The staff obviously took special care in decorating it tonight: from the blue and white crepe paper that hung in twisted strands against the railing, billowing in every time a gentle breeze came in from the water; the flickering candlelight in the center of each table creating the illusion of intimacy; the. . .

The sounds of someone taking the seat across from her interrupted Ms. Parker's perusal of the area around her. She didn't even bother to look down at her companion before saying, "Go away."

"Do you treat all men like that, Ms. Parker? No wonder you're still single."

Her blue eyes turned glacial as she faced Jarod. "Who do you think you are now? Dr. Joyce Brothers?"

"Who?"

She sighed and took a sip of her rum. "Never mind."

An uncomfortable silence filled the table. Ms. Parker stared at the water, hoping he'd take the hint and leave her alone. Why the hell couldn't he avoid her like usual he usually did?

The uncomfortable silence was broken by the waiter's arrival. Ms. Parker ordered her dinner and almost choked on her drink when he turned around and asked Jarod what he wanted to eat.

"He's not staying," she informed the boy curtly.

Jarod, who was busy reading the menu, apparently didn't hear her and began to order. "I think I'll have a bowl of sancocho. For dessert."

"I *said* you're not staying," Ms. Parker interrupted.

"Oh, but I am."

The waiter looked back and forth, unsure of whom to believe. Jarod took pity on the kid and quietly told him, "I'll finish ordering later. Just bring us what we've ordered so far."

The waiter was gone before Ms. Parker could refute Jarod's statement. She went back to glaring at him as she voiced her earlier thoughts. "Why are you here?"

"I told you, I wanted to try being a cabana boy."

"I meant here. At my table. Shouldn't you be avoiding me?"

He faked a wounded look and said, "I'm hurt. You spend all this time chasing me, and when I finally approach you, you tell me to leave?"

"Answer my question, damn it!"

His expression turned serious as he leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, "Because you're not a threat to me at the moment."

Not a *threat*?! Ms. Parker stared at Jarod, contemplating whether to hit him with her glass of rum; the only thing stopping her was the realization that the move, while satisfying, was useless and would only get her in trouble.

"I mean, think about it," he continued, oblivious to his companion's murderous thoughts. "I know you don't have your gun since it's a lot of hassle to bring weapons in foreign countries, you can't lock me up in your room because the maids are bound to find me, and you can't contact anyone at the Centre because the phones are down."

"So does this mean you plan on harassing me for the rest of my vacation?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"It'll only be as unpleasant as you make it. If you can manage to be civil, you might just find our time together quite enjoyable."

'Fat chance,' Ms. Parker thought darkly as she watched Jarod dig in to the meal the waiter had brought during their conversation.

He caught her staring at him and asked, "Shouldn't you start eating? This food is no good cold."

"I'm not hungry," Ms. Parker answered, a statement quickly contradicted by the loud growling of her stomach.

Jarod raised his eyebrow at that, and she avoided his gaze as she gave in and grudgingly took a bite of her meal.

'Hunger-it didn't care about your emotional state,' she thought glumly. 'It attacks anyway.'

Ms. Parker was halfway through her dessert made out of coconut and milk when Jarod excused himself to go to the bathroom.

She waited until she was sure he was out of earshot before she took out her cell phone and dialed the Centre's number.

"I'm sorry. The number you have dialed is not in service.."

Ms. Parker angrily turned off her phone and resigned herself to the fact that short of maiming Jarod, she had no choice but to endure his company.

Too bad for him that she didn't plan on making it easy for him, either.

End Part 1