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Disclaimer: They don't belong to me. I'm only playing with them for a while & promise to return them when I'm done....well, except for Jarod *evil grin* I'm keeping him & there's nothing you can do to stop me bwahaha....*sulkily hands him back to Miss Parker who is pointing her 9mm at my head & insisting that he belongs to her*
Note: Response to Mickey's thoughts challenge.
My Little Secret
By Melanie-Anne
There's something very comforting about watching a fire burn, I think to myself as I sit on the sheepskin rug on my living room floor. I'm not sure why I like fire, it's just so...hypnotic. You can't help looking at it.
Today had to have been one of the worst days of my life. It started out just like any other day. I was at work by eight and there was a package waiting for me from the lab rat himself. We tracked him to Baltimore. I thought we'd get there late and miss him again. As usual.
Wrong.
Maybe things would have been okay if I'd been alone but I was with a whole sweeper team. I couldn't let him go. Not this time. He understood. At least, I hope he did. But he was so quiet when I cuffed him. He didn't even respond to my whispered, "I'm sorry."
And I was. Somewhere along the line in this game of ours, I stopped wanting to bring him in. I don't know why that was. It just happened. I think Syd and Broots both know but they won't dare say anything to me. I'd deny it, of course.
It's my little secret.
I'm sure Jarod suspects, but I'd never admit it to him either. I can't give him the satisfaction of knowing he's been right about me all along. Do you have any idea what that would do to his ego?
I sigh and stretch my legs out in front of me. Even with the fire, my house is cold. My house is always cold. I pull my blanket around my shoulders but I'm not shivering from the cold. I've just realized something.
I didn't light this fire!
When we got back to the Centre I came straight home and headed for my usual source of comfort. My friend, Jack Daniels. You see, I didn't want to think about the horrible things that they were probably doing to Jarod right then. So I finished off the bottle and started on something else. I must have passed out on the couch. At least, I'm assuming I passed out on the couch because that's where I woke up just a little while ago.
Covered with a blanket. A fire blazing in the fireplace.
Who the hell has been in my house?
There are echoes of Goldilocks in that thought. How fitting that I get to play the angry bear. Now if only I could remember where I left my gun....
I struggle to my feet and turn around, surveying the room. It's not so easy when you're drunk. Everything looks normal, though. My shoes are lying exactly where I left them but the jacket that I'm sure I left lying on the floor is flung over the back of a chair. And the curtain are closed but I know that they were open when I got home.
Oh, well, if whoever it was had come to kill me then I'd be dead by now.
I turn back to the fire and glance at the photos on the mantlepiece: Mama, me and Mama, me and Tommy, Daddy. And an envelope.
Curious, I open it.
Two simple words are enough to bring a smile to my face and I slowly sink back to the ground. Any second now I'm going to get a phone call from someone at the Centre telling me to hurry back. I wish I could keep this note but I'd be dead if it was found. So I feed the paper to the flames and watch the words blacken and die as the paper crumbles.
I understand.
The phone is ringing but I have no intention of answering it.
~*~
Note: Response to Mickey's thoughts challenge.
My Little Secret
By Melanie-Anne
There's something very comforting about watching a fire burn, I think to myself as I sit on the sheepskin rug on my living room floor. I'm not sure why I like fire, it's just so...hypnotic. You can't help looking at it.
Today had to have been one of the worst days of my life. It started out just like any other day. I was at work by eight and there was a package waiting for me from the lab rat himself. We tracked him to Baltimore. I thought we'd get there late and miss him again. As usual.
Wrong.
Maybe things would have been okay if I'd been alone but I was with a whole sweeper team. I couldn't let him go. Not this time. He understood. At least, I hope he did. But he was so quiet when I cuffed him. He didn't even respond to my whispered, "I'm sorry."
And I was. Somewhere along the line in this game of ours, I stopped wanting to bring him in. I don't know why that was. It just happened. I think Syd and Broots both know but they won't dare say anything to me. I'd deny it, of course.
It's my little secret.
I'm sure Jarod suspects, but I'd never admit it to him either. I can't give him the satisfaction of knowing he's been right about me all along. Do you have any idea what that would do to his ego?
I sigh and stretch my legs out in front of me. Even with the fire, my house is cold. My house is always cold. I pull my blanket around my shoulders but I'm not shivering from the cold. I've just realized something.
I didn't light this fire!
When we got back to the Centre I came straight home and headed for my usual source of comfort. My friend, Jack Daniels. You see, I didn't want to think about the horrible things that they were probably doing to Jarod right then. So I finished off the bottle and started on something else. I must have passed out on the couch. At least, I'm assuming I passed out on the couch because that's where I woke up just a little while ago.
Covered with a blanket. A fire blazing in the fireplace.
Who the hell has been in my house?
There are echoes of Goldilocks in that thought. How fitting that I get to play the angry bear. Now if only I could remember where I left my gun....
I struggle to my feet and turn around, surveying the room. It's not so easy when you're drunk. Everything looks normal, though. My shoes are lying exactly where I left them but the jacket that I'm sure I left lying on the floor is flung over the back of a chair. And the curtain are closed but I know that they were open when I got home.
Oh, well, if whoever it was had come to kill me then I'd be dead by now.
I turn back to the fire and glance at the photos on the mantlepiece: Mama, me and Mama, me and Tommy, Daddy. And an envelope.
Curious, I open it.
Two simple words are enough to bring a smile to my face and I slowly sink back to the ground. Any second now I'm going to get a phone call from someone at the Centre telling me to hurry back. I wish I could keep this note but I'd be dead if it was found. So I feed the paper to the flames and watch the words blacken and die as the paper crumbles.
I understand.
The phone is ringing but I have no intention of answering it.
~*~
