By: Thursday’s Child

Spoilers: Inner Sense one and two and just to be safe, Pretender 2001, the movie.

Couple/Pairing: JMP/R

Rating: PG-13, I guess, I don’t know how this rating thing goes. Just some smoochies.

Summary: Four little vignettes taking place over twenty-four years starring, of course, Miss Parker and Jarod.

Author’s notes: I’ve been dying to do a short little Pretender fic, cause my longer ones never get finished, but the idea just wouldn’t present itself. Then, I was watching young Jarod and I realised that I really wanted to know what he and Parker did when Sydney was out for lunch and her father wasn’t watching. Jarod always says they were friends, so here’s my little scenario…Before you come filling up my mailbox telling me my timeline is off, I already know, kay? This is Thursday’s universe and she’ll do as she pleases. Just, try and enjoy it and not analyse it too much. One last thing, before my notes become longer than the story…can anyone clear up a little problem for me? Would Angelo still be Timmy here? Thanks, Thursday

Feedback @ kathryn37@hotmail.com or because37@hotmail.com much appreciated.

“Come on, Jarod!”

Jarod always knew to be wary when he heard that whine coming from his best friend. It usually meant he was going to be in big trouble, either from her, or her father, or Sydney. Or some anonymous Sweeper, or…point was, that tone of voice was one to avoid at all costs. “No, no way.” He protested forcefully.

Parker narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips dangerously at his adamant refusal. Crossing her arms she said, “You’re afraid.” Jarod opened his mouth to protest but Parker continued before he could speak. “S’okay. I’ll go hang out with Angelo, or Eddie. We’ll have plenty of fun without you.” She spun on her heel, but didn’t move.

“It’s not going to work this time, Miss Parker.” Jarod told her calmly. “Why not?” She demanded, pouting, hoping that one of her ploys would manage to convince him. She may have only been ten years old, but she knew how to affect a boy.

“Stop it.”

Her lip jutted out further and began to quiver.

“I mean it.”

Her eyelashes fluttered.

“Parker.”

Moisture gathered in her tear ducts.

“F I N E.”

The girl clapped her hands happily and jumped up and down. “You’re so easy.” She purred, linking her arm through his.

“Only for you.” He remarked dryly. She grinned coyly, not letting him see, yet fully acknowledging that she had him wrapped around her finger. “But,” He continued as she led him from the simulation room, “I want to say, right now, before we are caught and subsequently punished that this is a BAD idea.”

“You always say that.” Miss Parker retorted, pouting again, this time in earnest.

“Only because every idea that ever pops into your head is bad.”

“You only say that because one has never worked out.”

Jarod should have known to just turn around and go back to his room, risking Parker’s wrath when they found the halls oddly deserted. Parker seemed to sense his resistance and tugged harder on his arm.

“You know they have cameras all over this place.”

Parker glared, “My father is chairman.” She said woodenly.

“Yes, well…”

“Well, perhaps they don’t have cameras where I’m taking you.”

Jarod tossed a desperate glance towards Angelo who was stacking blocks in the corner and Alex, who was reading Moby Dick. Alex smiled mockingly. Angelo was clueless. With an air of self-importance, Parker pressed the down button on the elevator.

The doors closed on them with a deadly silence and Parker again pressed a button, SL-24. A sense of doom over-took Jarod. ‘Great, she’s taking me strait to Hell.’ He looked at her beaming face and still couldn’t manage a smile. ‘The things I do for love.’

“I love you.” He muttered.

She slid her hand down his arm, entwining their fingers. “I know.” She replied, a grin wrinkling her nose.

And he truly did. And it was more than the simplistic love of two pre-teens. Perhaps it was due to his increased intelligence (and hers, though no one would acknowledge it) that he was able to feel things that others his age could not. What he felt was that they were soul mates. And she truly loved him back, for all the same reasons.

The doors opened, revealing a well-lit corridor much different from any he had seen in the Centre. He glanced at the new space in wonder and glanced at Parker to see her reaction. Gone was the lovey-dovey girl from a few minutes before. Her wide blue eyes sparkled instead with joy over her new discovery. Her new adventure. One that probably only last long enough for Mr. Parker to send someone down the elevator after them.

Jarod wanted to go back, but he would also do anything to make Parker happy. They tried the first few doors, but none budged. Parker was growing quickly frustrated and Jarod knew to act quickly to appease her. He also knew that door number 8 was drawing particular attention from his companion.

Miss Parker gasped when she felt Jarod slid his hands into her hair, grabbing one of the pins that held her thick red locks in place. A few seconds later and he smiled thinly while throwing open the door.

They fumbled around in the dark, Jarod muttering about women and why they didn’t have the forethought to bring along flashlights when they drug their helpless male counterparts along on suicide missions. Parker suggested he just pretend to be the last person in the room and ‘sniff’ out the switch. Jarod mocked her. And when Miss Parker muttered “Sorry” after ramming her heeled foot down on his toes, Jarod was quite sure that she wasn’t nearly. Finally, a very impertinent Miss Parker found the switch and flipped it on.

The two gasped at the sight that greeted them. The room was completely covered in a beautiful mural. All four walls were those of a deep forest, painted in such detail and with such depth that it felt like a real forest. The ceiling was a deep blue, scattered with clouds and a blinding white bulb serving as the sun. There was a thick wooden floor, covered in potted trees and flowers that had long been neglected and withered away.

“Jarod, what is this place?” Parker murmured softly, running her fingers over the colourful, smooth wall.

The pretender didn’t answer, he was busy thinking, (she could tell by the way his forehead scrunched up) his lips moving without making sound. He shook his head negatively. “I can’t…” He shrugged.

Miss Parker turned her scrutiny from the wall to her friend. Her hand rested lightly on his shoulder. “What do you mean, you can’t? You can do anything.” She added with a small smile, placing her hands on her hips. “Are you joking?”

Again, Jarod didn’t answer.

The girl sighed and turned away again. “It’s so pretty. Why would someone just let everything die?”

“Why does the Centre do anything?” Jarod challenged belligerently. Parker glared at him with narrowed eyes.

“I mean it Jarod. There has to be a good reason. Try again.” With a grand, put upon sigh, Jarod settled down on the floor and closed his eyes at her request. He just hoped that whoever was going to catch them would do it soon and let him get back to the sim he was working on before Parker had come along.

While Jarod was busy concentrating, Parker moved along the walls, studying each detail with intensity. She had wanted a mural like this on her wall, but her father had not agreed. Which caused her to wonder why he would allow one in the Centre. “Ouch!”

“I can’t figure anything out if you keep making noise.” Jarod whispered tightly.

Parker stuck her tongue out at him, knowing that although he couldn’t see her, he knew what she was doing. Then, her attention turned back to the palm of her hand where blood had begun to well. “Jarod, I think I found something.”

There was a door in the wall, only a few inches squared, not completely closed and her delicate hand had found the catch. She didn’t mind the pain though. Instead, she used her fingers to pry it the rest of the way open.

Jarod was at her side, more interested in her wound than her discovery. “This place is dirty Parker, you might get infected.”

“Is that all you’re worried about? Jarod, look at this.” She whispered in awe. She had rescued a beautiful sparkling diamond ring and slipped it on her finger, loving the way the light played upon it. “Marry you, Jarod? What would my father say?” She fluttered her lashes heavily.

“Quit it.” He said lowly, pulling the ring from her finger and shoving it back into the safe.

“You’re right, he probably wouldn’t approve.” Parker shrugged, then peered into the small but deep hole, pulling out the other content. “Look at this.” In her unharmed hand she clasped a roll of papers. She studied them with an intent frown. “Why would someone have this sort of thing hidden here?”

“What sort of thing?” Jarod asked, dropping her ruined hand, quite frustrated with everything around him at the moment, including Miss Parker.

“Prenatal exams, that sort of thing.” Parker scowled, knowing that would get his attention.

“What?” He grabbed them from her, reading furiously. “These are recent. But they don’t say whose they are.”

“Duh! It wouldn’t be a mystery if everything were spelled right out for you.”

“It isn’t a mystery at all, Elexandria, it’s a sign that we better get out of here, right now.”

Parker narrowed her eyes. “Well now you’ve done it Jarod! If whoever’s watching us wasn’t angry before, they will be now! Do you know what Daddy’ll do when he hears you saying my name on a DSA?” No one used her first name ever since a pretender with the same name had been acquired by the Centre. Mr. Parker would not allow it.

“Well maybe if you hadn’t drug me down here in the first place, I would have had the forethought not to have used it!”

“Don’t you dare blame me.” Parker ordered, growing angrier with every breath she took.

“Why not place the blame where it belongs?” He demanded.

Tears stung in her eyes, but Parker refused to allow them to fall. “You don’t want to be here, with me? Then go away! I don’t ever want to see you again!”

“Jarod! Alex! What in the world are you doing down here?”

Jarod shoved the papers back inside the wall and slammed the door. Miss Parker began an intent study of the floor beneath her feet. Only one person save Jarod ever used her first name. Her mother…and only when she was angry or disappointed with her daughter.

“Mama…” She couldn’t think of what to say without further upsetting her mother. The tears that she had been able to hold before now began to fall slowly down her cheeks.

“It’s my fault, Mrs. Parker.” She heard Jarod say softly and she loved him all the more for it. “I talked her into it. I heard Sydney talking about the rooms in SL-24 and I wanted to explore. I just managed to talk you daughter into going with me.”

Catherine shook her head slowly and smiled sadly. “I’m not angry, Jarod. But this isn’t the place for you two. If my husband found out that you were down here he’d be very upset and he might take it out on you, Jarod.”

“I’m sorry Mama.”

“I’m sorry Mrs. Parker.”

The older Parker smiled again, this time a truly happy smile. “Next time you two want to have a little fun, why don’t you play with Angelo.” She suggested. “Now, come on, back upstairs before Sydney discovers you gone, Jarod.” She placed a hand upon each of their backs and ushered them into the elevator.

Elexandria always meant to ask her mother about the ring and the papers in the box. She figured it could wait a few days until her mother’s obvious discomfort over the incident passed. What little Alex didn’t figure was that her mother would fake her death only two days later.

* * *

“Hey Jarod. What ya doin’?” Parker drawled, resting her back and elbows against the piano and looking down at the boy on the pillow on the floor.

“What does it look like?” He asked dourly, without looking up at her.

“You don’t have to be rude.” She reasoned, walking around and taking a seat on the bench. “Guess what?”

“Do I really want to know?” He asked as she began to play…Fur Elise, his favourite.

“Sure you do.” She prodded, her fingers dancing over the keys. “It’s the fourth of July.” She continued without his bidding.

“Already knew that.”

“Well, did you know that due to the holiday no one’s here ‘cept me and Daddy?”

Finally he regarded her. “What are you wearing?” He demanded sharply, dropping his book on some science that young Parker could care less about.

“Like it?” She asked with a saucy smile and arched brows, standing and leaving her masterpiece unfinished, though the air still rung with the notes. She spread her arms wide and spun around, causing the see-through gauze she wore to swirl around her like a cloud. “It’s a bathing suit.”

“I thought you bathed naked?” Jarod replied, not only perplexed by the notion of bathing in a skin-tight suit, but also distracted by the thought of Parker naked.

Miss Parker giggled, “Like it’s any of your business how I bathe. Here.” She tossed him a pair of trunks.

“What are these for?” He asked, holding up the flimsy fabric.

“Swimming.” She could see all sorts of protests forming in Jarod’s eyes so she pressed on. “Daddy’s up in his office talking on the phone. He’ll be there for hours.” She rolled her eyes. “No barbecue, no pool, no fireworks for me. And then I realised you’d never had any of the above. Sooo…here I am, ready to rectify the situation. Now, put those on and come on.” She skipped out of the room before he could protest, so he slid out of his clothing quickly and re-dressed in the shorts she had given him.

“They fit…nicely.” Parker told him with a grin when he joined her outside his room. Eddie flashed Jarod a knowing smile from where he sat on the floor, playing poker with Angelo and Alex.

“You two have fun.” He said mockingly.

“Where are we going?” Jarod had the presence of mind to ask halfway down the hall.

Parker swung their joined hands and replied happily, “The beach.” She continued on, but was forced to stop by the fact the Jarod was no longer moving.

“How do you propose we do that, Parker? Do you really think that security is going to allow me to walk out the front doors?”

“MMM…nope.” She grinned, “Oh Jarod, trust me.” And despite his better judgement, he did. Ten minutes later they slid out through a side door in one of the larger first floor offices.

“This is….”

“Amazing?” Parker asked, grinning brilliantly. Jarod grabbed her around the waist, lifting her and spinning her in huge circles, her gown billowing around them.

“Thank you.” He whispered with great sincerity when he lowered her again to the ground.

Miss Parker led him out of the shade of the looming building and towards the welcome sound of crashing waves. “You’re lucky it’s been such a hot summer. The water is usually too cold to actually go swimming.”

“I don’t need to swim.” He buried his toes deep in the sand. “I have the outdoors and I have you.” He took her hand and drew her near. “I love you, Alex.”

“I love you, Jarod.” Parker whispered, tipping her head back to receive his kiss. “Now, come on, I didn’t get all dressed up for nothing.” She whipped the dressing gown over her head, leaving her in the bright blue swimsuit. She smiled mischievously and darted into the water, sending spray everywhere.

After twenty minutes of dunking and splashing, (and enjoying the outdoors in general, for Jarod) the two lie exhausted upon the warm sand, Parker curled up against Jarod, her face buried in his chest and her arms gripping him. Like she didn’t want to let him go.

“What’s this for, Parker?” He asked gently, pulling her closer. Never had Parker risked so much for his happiness.

She let out a muffled noise and that was when Jarod noticed that the warm water upon his chest was not just seawater. “Daddy…”

“What about him?” Jarod prodded.

Parker raised up on her palms looking down into his eyes, tears sparkling on her cheeks. Jarod reached up to cup her face, then pushed his fingers through her thick hair to better see her face. “I’ve tested well, Jarod. Not as well as you.” She added softly and self-depreciatingly. “But out of high school. Daddy’s sending me away to study at a higher level.”

Jarod sat up abruptly, forcing her up with him. “You can’t let him, he can’t just push you around like that!”

“Yes…yes he can. I’m only sixteen. I’m still legally his. Besides, is he really allowed to keep you here? Yet, I’m not seeing you go away. He has power. And he’s my father.”

“Where is he sending you?”

“England for a term, France for a semester….Japan forever….Daddy has friends in Japan that he wants me to stay with. He says I can learn a lot from their lessons.” She was crying desperately, now, hot, helpless tears rolling down her chin. She dropped her head, wishing he wouldn’t see her like this.

He took her face between his hands. Parker wrapped her hands tightly around his wrists, “I can’t go without you.” She leaned forward and brushed their heads together. “I can’t…”

“Hey, Parker.” He snapped sharply and she looked up at him again. “I can’t be here without you.” And he found he was crying too. “I just can’t be who I am without you.”

“I’ll be back.” She promised. “I’ll come back for you.”

Jarod lurched, taking her mouth roughly with his, shoving her back on the sand, his body covering hers, his hands moving down her arms and gripping her waist. She responded eagerly, wrapping a slender leg around his waist and drawing him nearer. Never had they done more than kiss but this all seemed so right, his lips burning a trail along her jawbone and down the column of her throat, her hands holding tightly to his shoulders, kneading.

“Jarod…” She gasped, between discoveries of new sensations. “Jarod, I love you.”

“The hell you do!” Jarod was torn away from her, tossed several feet away and she found herself glaring against the sun to see a dark figure towering above her, looking quite furious. The blow to her rib was expected, but that didn’t lessen the pain.

Jarod let out a noise of protest and reached for her, but the two sweepers that had accompanied made sure Jarod stayed put for the duration of this ordeal. Quite painfully.

Mr. Parker grabbed a handful of his daughter’s dark hair and jerked her to her feet. “What are you doing out here with him?”

Miss Parker whimpered in pain, but stood at her father’s bidding. “I just wanted to see him one last time.” She covered her face with her arms, hoping to avoid a further beating.

“Take him back to his room and make sure that he realises his error. Today he doesn’t have Sydney to protect him.”

“Please Daddy, don’t. Don’t hurt him…I made him come with me, Daddy.” Parker begged, longing to go to Jarod.

“Oh…Angel.” The elder Parker cupped his daughter’s cheek. Then he drew his hand back and slapped her soundly across the cheek, holding her head in place by the hair. “Honey, I don’t like to hurt you, but you can’t lie to me.”

“No, Daddy, no. I’m not lying.” Mr. Parker gripped her upper arm tight enough to bruise and began to lead her back to the Centre and she knew well enough to follow. She had known that she would be in trouble when her father found out, but never had he reacted so badly when he found the two teens together.

“You’re bleeding, clean it up before you stain something.” Her father muttered, tossing her a tissue upon entering his office. Parker wiped numbly at the blood on her lips. She could care less. “You’re leaving tomorrow morning. Taking the Centre jet a 5:30 a.m. I will not risk anymore incidents like this afternoon.”

“But Daddy, I…”

Mr. Parker turned around furiously to glare at his daughter and she drew back fearfully. “Don’t you dare say those words, not about him! You do not love him and he certainly does not love you.”

“He does.” She replied stubbornly.

“No, he can’t. He’s a monster, Angel.” He spoke gently now, running fingers soothingly through her tender scalp. “He doesn’t feel things like me and you. He’s been using you, you see. He’s been playing your emotions to make you think you love him. And he’s been doing it so he can escape, an opportunity you nearly provided him with this afternoon.”

Miss Parker shook her head vehemently from side to side. It wasn’t true, he was lying.

Eight years and not a word had been said of the young Parker girl. The subject was taboo. It always had been really, even worse after her mother passed on and then never brought up again after young Miss Parker disappeared eight summers ago, on the Forth of July.

* * *

Eight years and not a murmur of her name. One could imagine the murmur as the seeming ghost of Catherine Parker flung wide open the front doors of Centre. She strode forward exuding grace, confidence and power. She was really nothing like Catherine Parker, though.

She wore black from her the top of her pretty head right down to her stiletto heels. Catherine always wore pastel dresses. The dark red hair was twisted tightly against her scalp was too short, she was a little too tan. But most importantly, she wasn’t smiling. So it couldn’t have been Catherine.

After eight years, the daughter had returned.

She was taking a place in Corporate, as the head of security for the Centre. A sweeper, to be exact, though her hands would not be doing the dirty work. Oh, Catherine must have been turning over in her grave.

Parker sighed upon entering her new office. Spacious, well-furnished with a nice view of the shore beyond. Not at all where she had imagined she would be twelve years ago or eight, for that matter. But no use daydreaming of the past now. Nothing would be done to draw negative attention from her father.

The first few days passed slowly, painfully so. The monotony of the Centre was dragging her down and she was dying for a security problem to rectify. But suddenly, she was overwhelmed with all sorts of jobs, taking care of a security breach here, a mysterious death there. And she found she enjoyed the job she was doin. She’d much rather be in a courtroom, presenting a case, but she could settle for this. Bringing the evil to justice in a less ‘legal’ way.

It was at least three weeks before her world was turned upside down. She’d known it would happen eventually, inevitably. It was late on a Friday and she’d just finished cleaning up a mess at the local Centre Annex. And she was looking forward to a bubble bath composed largely of bubbles.

Jarod’s hand latched onto her arm and pulled her into behind one of the towering pillars in the lobby of the main floor. “I’d heard you were here. I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, but they’ve been locking me up more and more. I couldn’t get to you.”

Miss Parker couldn’t help but drink in the sight of him. He was so dark and so innocently seductive in the low light of the lobby. His eyes seemed to be glowing with desire. She resisted the urge to gulp. The close proximity was getting to her. “Jarod.” She greeted quietly, without much feeling.

“Is that all the greeting I get?” Jarod demanded, laughing playfully and pulling her closer to him. He lowered his head for a kiss and Parker turned her head quickly, landing his lips in her hair. “Parker?”

Miss Parker broke loose and stepped out from their hiding place. “Do you want to get us in trouble?”

“Since when did you ever care about getting in trouble?” He asked with an impish smile and unbelieving face.

“Since I grew up, Jarod. Something I see you have failed to do.”

For a moment, Jarod’s face fell, but he regained himself quickly enough. “What’s the matter, Alex?”

A deadly silence overtook the room at his use of her name. She stared at him in anger and disbelief. “Don’t ever use that name again.” She told him softly, dangerously.

“Parker?” He looked so lost, but tried again. “Come on, there’s something I want to show you.” He offered his hand to her.

Silence again, as Parker stared at the open palm he held out, like an olive branch. Her eyes lifted to his and she could tell he was searching her, trying to get into her brain. Well, she had learned quite a lot over the past few years and she would not allow him to read her like a book.

Those beautiful, hopeful eyes of his fell, looking to the floor in defeat. “What happened?”

The hurt in his voice, the heavy choked quality of his words, and she felt her insides melt. She had to use terrible restraint to keep from reaching out for him. ‘He’s manipulating your emotions, just like he’s always done, just like Daddy said.’ But it didn’t seem like the truth, she didn’t want to believe it.

Jarod was a twenty-six year old man, but as he turned away, shoulders slumped, Parker was reminded of the boy she had thought she had loved. She longed to reach for him, to stop him, but she simply couldn’t. She really, truly couldn’t. Not even if she wanted it with every fibre of her being. Which she did.

He left crushed, completely. His light, his only source of hope and happiness in the whole dismal place had abandoned him.

He never gave up on her, though. He tried over and over to convince her to remember the wonderful times they had the extraordinary love they had shared. But she simply refused, every time. And then he finally left her alone, knowing that someday she would come back to him. But at the moment, he had more important things to concentrate on. Their future.

Miss Parker prayed every day that he would come back to her. And she prayed every day that she could believe his promises, would have the strength to defy her father and go with him…just take his hand, like she used to…But, on the day he escaped, she realised with great sorrow that he had finally forgotten about her. Because it had been four years since he’d last bothered to make his offer. And that was a long time….

* * *

Jarod had said something about winning a race. But she suddenly didn’t want to beat him at the race. In actuality, she had never thought of it as a race against one another, but as a race against Raines and Lyle and the Centre even. Obviously the line was no longer blurred. She was the bad guy once again.

Every nerve in her body was numb. That usually came from the alcohol, but this evening it came from the glow of the computer screen, (of course, the alcohol hadn’t hurt). Catherine Parker had known-and perhaps been friends with-Jarod’s mother. It filled her with melancholy. So ironic, two women trying together to save their beloved children. And now, those same two children trying to find their past, racing against one another.

Getting drunk hadn’t helped do anything but make Parker more sick than she had felt before. She wanted to know where Ethan was and that he was safe. Where Raines was. She wanted to know who her Goddamned father was. And, she wanted to know what the picture meant, who had sent it. But at least the voices had stopped, she found the alcohol helped with that as well.

Home sweet home. It felt like she hadn’t slept in days. With a long-suffering sigh, Parker dropped to the couch, letting her purse and keys fall to the floor. Her arm covered her eyes, even the slightest bit of light bothered her. She wanted to crawl into a ball and forget everything that she had seen and learned in the past week. She wanted to keep hope that her mother was alive. She wanted to think that Mr. Parker was her father. She wanted…everything that she couldn’t have.

A cool, smooth object was pressed into her hand and she clutched it in reflex. A DSA, she could tell, running her thumb over the surface. “What are you doing here?” She asked him. But she wasn’t angry. Weary, lost, needy and confused. But not angry.

“I’m sorry.”

Parker gave a short burst of hysterical giggles. She left her eyes covered. “What are you sorry for, Jarod?”

“I put you in danger this afternoon.”

Again, confusion was creeping into Parker’s mind. “I believe it was Alex who put me in danger this afternoon. Him, or my father…supposed father.” She added the last words belatedly.

“He wanted to take something away that I couldn’t live without. He said he wanted to see what happened with he ‘killed someone important to my world.’”

Slowly, very, very, slowly, Parker’s arm slid down, uncovering her now very wide blue eyes. “Someone important?” She murmured breathlessly.

Jarod seemed very embarrassed, but Parker wouldn’t let it go that easily. She wanted to know why she was important. Did he just want her for answers? “What’s this?” She held up the DSA that was still securely in her palm.

“Besides the obvious?” He asked playfully. At her scowl he added. “Something your mother wanted you to have.”

Parker sat up with a start. “The DSA….the one she made before she…” She choked on the words. Jarod nodded and she didn’t have to finish. “Where did you find it?”

“Where does one go to find things hidden from them?” He bit off. “I saw that ring on your finger. The same ring we found when we were young. Sydney told me you found it at Tommy Thompson’s house. Your mother must have given it to him for safe keeping.”

“Yes, but what does that have to do with you finding this DSA?” Parker asked, impatience crawling into her voice.

“Well, I realised that safe must have been Catherine’s. Which made sense, given the prenatal documents found there. It would also explain her discomfort at finding us there. Then, Sydney told me the other day about the DSA. I had no clue where it might be, but it suddenly occurred to me that she would hide it in the safe.”

Parker groaned in comprehension. “She put it there knowing my curious nature. She thought I would go back for more answers later.”

Jarod nodded. “She didn’t count on your grief taking so long to pass. So long that you completely forgot about the safe by the time you were back to yourself.”

“It was right there all along.” She whispered, feeling incredibly stupid, like she’d wasted twenty odd years for nothing.

“Aren’t you going to watch it.”

Good question, wasn’t it? ‘Aren’t you going to watch it?’ ‘Yes.’ She didn’t move. ‘Well?’ So strange that she held the answers to every question she’d ever had-maybe even some of Jarod’s questions-and yet…Yet she couldn’t move. “I am.” She told him. Hesitantly she stood, but her entire body felt as if it were made of lead. Jarod’s arm around her waist kept her from falling to the floor.

“Are you?” He asked, smiling widely. “I’ll go get a player.” He turned to head for the front door.

“No. Don’t worry about it. I can see it later.” She reached her hand out to stop him, but he was already far away. A room away, that seemed like miles. She could already feel their temporary camaraderie fading away.

“Parker?” It was his turn to be utterly confused.

“Just leave me alone, Jarod.” She muttered. Her arms pulling her legs to her chest feeling the emptiness in her chest grow exponentially. The idea of a drink didn’t seem so bad anymore. In fact, she was pretty sure there was a bottle of scotch on the fridge with her name all over it.

But Jarod wasn’t just leaving her alone. He was still there, hovering about the front door, ready to run if she became too hostile. So he was waiting for her reaction. Well then, the bastard could wait all night, and in the morning, she’d take his ass in.

Ignoring him, she stood and made her way to the kitchen, Jarod trailing along behind her. He observed with obvious dismay when she collected a glass and the scotch. “Miss Parker, I really think you should get some rest. You shouldn’t be drinking that.”

“Is that what you think?” She sneered, opening the bottle and pouring the liquid hastily so that a copious amount spilled onto the counter. She lifted it to her lips quickly, ready to drown the pain, but for some reason she couldn’t open her mouth. Her stomach burned in protest and anticipation of the alcohol. The thought of actually drinking it made her stomach churn. She looked down at the DSA in her other hand, contemplating it.

Eyes shut tight, Parker slammed the glass back down. Even through the dark, Jarod could see the crease in her forehead and the tear slipping unbidden from her eye. What was happening to her? Everything she believed had been taken away from her in a blink of an eye. Just as it had a million times before. So why was this time so different. “I’m important?” She asked him finally, needing an answer so badly. Needing it more than she had ever needed any other. She ran her thumb repeatedly against the cool, smooth DSA, finding comfort in the action, like she was holding her mother’s hand.

“I can’t live without you.” He replied, no hesitation. But, he knew better than to go to her.

The tears were falling rapidly now and she dropped her head. She didn’t want Jarod to see the tears silently cascading down her cheeks, her lips quivering, her body shaking. “I can’t.” He repeated.

Miss Parker opened her eye, gazing intently at the tiled floor. His hand reached out for her and she blinked furiously, trying to clear the tears. Clear the blur and see if what she thought was real really was. Yes, he was offering his hand. But she wouldn’t take it, he should know that by now.

“Sorry Jarod, but I can’t.”

He turned to leave, perhaps for good this time. He didn’t say another word to encourage her and he was almost gone when she spoke again. “Jarod, thank you.”

Before reaching the door, he stopped and slowly came back to her side. His arm slid around her waist again, pulling her to him and she couldn’t turn away when he lowered his lips softly to her own. The kiss was slow and sensual and incredibly gentle. She let him, though she didn’t respond, content with allowing him to do all the work. And then, he was gone and she began to cry all over again.

Parker stumbled into the Centre around noon the next morning, dark sunglasses over her eyes, hand to her head. “Syd, have you heard from Broots?” She asked softly, every noise that she heard-including her own voice-jarring her brain.

“Not yet.” He hesitated before asking, very quietly, “Are you alright?”

“Out of aspirin.” She croaked, with an unpleasant smile.

Sydney resisted the urge to laugh, knowing Parker’s aching head wouldn’t appreciate it. “I think I have some in my desk.”

The headache passed, so did the nausea that usually accompanied. They were gone shortly after she secured the painkiller. What didn’t pass was the strange confusion she felt that had begun when she woke up that morning. Woken up at the kitchen table, a DSA resting beside her head.

She had had the strangest dreams. Dreams of things that had happened a lifetime ago. A jungle room filled with dead plant life and a secret safe. She had discovered it with Jarod twenty-five years ago. She had dreamt of it so vividly. She had dreamt of all their adventures, but that one remained most intense, that and the day she had spent with Jarod on the beach. And the day she had broken his heart. But the strangest dreams were the ones that weren’t real, that had never happened.

She had dreamt that he came to her the night before, that he was the mysterious donor of the DSA, which was all very likely true, because as far as she was concerned, last night was a blur. But wasn’t likely to be true was the kiss she had dreamed and his words, ‘I can’t live without you’.

Her ruminations were interrupted when Broots stumbled in that afternoon, looking quite shabby, like he hadn’t changed or showered for a few day. He was babbling about Jarod and the NSA and the Parkers. Miss Parker’s unofficial impression was that he was ‘nuts’. Sydney, deciding to get his own profession diagnosis, drug Broots into his office for an evaluation. After a while he concurred with Parker’s statement.

“I think he’s had a rough weekend. A few days rest should put him back to normal. He’s quite worried about Debbie, though.”

After being assured that Debbie was safe at a friend’s, Broots, much subdued, headed home.

The rest of the day crawled by rather slowly, Parker holed up in her office, ignoring everyone around her. She’d quite surprised Lyle by leaving his sudden appearance, flavoured with barbs, unacknowledged.

By eight, most of the Centre employees had cleared out, Parker’s father, brother, and Sydney included. Parker, however, remained, considering the glittering DSA that sat upon her desk. The voices were telling her to watch it. Yet, for some odd reason, she was quite afraid to watch it by herself and she had no one that she really wanted to watch it with. And she didn’t even know what was on it.

“You ever gonna watch that?”

Though she was both scared shitless and startled by his voice, Parker resisted the urge to jump up and shriek like a child. Instead, she threw a disinterested look his way. “What’s it to you?”

“What’s on that might affect us both.”

“I had a dream last night.” She told him, cursing herself for doing so.

Jarod considered her very closely for a moment before asking, “What about?”

“You.” Parker answered truthfully, before she could stop herself. “Me…us. I dreamt about the past. How we used to go on our little adventures.”

“You mean how you went your little adventures and dragged me along with you.” Jarod replied, throwing a smirk her way to let her know he had enjoyed himself regardless.

Parker sighed, remembering a better, happier time, when being at the Centre meant spending time with Jarod. Not when being at the Centre meant death and pain and hatred. “What are you doing here, Jarod? You’re going to get your ass caught, most probably by me.” She nodded her head towards the gun that lay near by.

“I’m here for the same reason you are. I want answers. I want to know what’s on that disk. But you haven’t watched it yet, why not?”

“I needed someone to watch it with me.” She admitted. Jarod had to strain his ears to hear her words. He understood her discomfort. Parker rarely needed anything or anyone.

Jarod slid closer, kneeling by her side and placing a hand on her shoulder. “I’m here.”

Miss Parker looked up at him, something unascertainable in her eyes. “You really are, aren’t you?” She asked him, with genuine wonder. “I wonder why that is, Jarod.” He looked at her questioningly, not understanding exactly what was going on in her head.

“I dreamt that you kissed me Jarod.”

“I have. Quite a few times.”

“I dreamt that you came to me last night and kissed me.” Parker whispered her voice heavy with some unspoken emotion. She spun her chair to face him, knocking his hand from her shoulder.

Jarod for his part looked like the deer in the headlights. He was now more than ever ready to run rather than facing her wrath. “It was a good dream, Jarod.” She told him very sincerely. “But.” She mused, cocking her head to one side and reaching out to brush his face “It ended badly. You left.”

“You made me.” He whispered, revelling in the feel of her cool hand on his cheek.

Parker dropped her head and closed her eyes. “I always do.” Her hand fell away from his cheek.

“Why won’t you look at me when you break my heart, Parker?” Jarod’s voice was angry, bitter and sad all at once.

“It hurts.” She placed a hand over her heart and rubbed the spot. “It hurts, because I have to hurt you. And I love you. And I can’t have you. That hurts.”

Jarod’s fingers brushed her hand aside and he massaged her chest gently. “I can make it stop.”

“How?” She wondered, bitter tears building up. God, she hated herself for crying.

“Because I love you.” His mouth found hers, lightly teasing her sensitive skin. After the first few hesitant brushes, her arms wound around his neck, drawing him up to her. Her fingers danced through his hair, forcing their lips closer, deepening the gentle kiss. Jarod slipped his arms around her, pulling her from her seat into his lap and hard against his body.

Parker drew away suddenly, breathing heavily and looking slightly flushed in the dim light. Her eyes and hair were wild and to Jarod, she was the most stunning sight he’d ever seen. “You left.”

He nodded.

“I made you leave.”

He nodded. She stood, breaking from his embrace and moving back to stand by her desk. The DSA shone up at her, waiting for her to take action and do something. She slipped the disk into her pocket and considered the gun. Whatever Catherine’s work entailed, Parker was quite sure a gun wouldn’t be needed. But, you never know. She slid the weapon into its holster. “You always used to be so persistent. I didn’t know you’d give up so easily last night.” She remarked.

Jarod hid the smile forming on her face and he stretched out a hand. “You coming or not, Parker.”

She invaded his space, suddenly, her nose brushing against his. “I thought you’d never ask.” Parker murmured, her face lighting up in a brilliant smile. She took his hand in hers, lacing their fingers.

Author’s note, continued: Okay, was it too bad? I know Elexandria is not Parker’s name, but I think it makes sense. I mean, her father would never let her use her first name if a Pretender with the same name were at the Centre. I imagine her real name is Angel, but only time will tell.

Disclaimer: All the characters I just used?…Guess what, they aren’t mine. Nope they belong to TNT, Craig W. Van Sickle, Steven Long Mitchell, MTW, AP and all the other talented actors and b.t.s. crew of the Pretender. I’m just borrowing…without permission….sorry…