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Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em… never did… never will… will never earn a penny… no infringement intended… please don’t sue me… life is complicated enough these days.
Land of Enchantment
part 1
by Ginger





Smiling to himself as he recalled the last ten days, Jarod rode the elevator to the lobby level. *Hmmm... Maybe something cold to drink...* he thought as the doors opened. *I think I will go out to the bar by the pool.* He and Zoe were finally having that vacation he had promised her before his father contacted him about Emily and all hell broke loose. They were having a fabulous time, enjoying their second road trip. Having made it as far as Santa Fe, he was treating her to a few days at a fancy resort before the bizarre circumstances of his life would, once again, dictate that they part company. The place wasn't really Jarod's style but she was so delighted to be there that it was worth it. It was late morning on the third day of their stay and he decided to get some air while Zoe showered and dressed.

Cheerily sauntering onto the patio, Jarod squinted in the blazing late-morning sun. His eyes quickly adjusted and what they beheld caused him to stop dead in his tracks. Everything - including, he'd have insisted at the time, his own heart - came to a screeching halt. *It can't be!* He tried to convince himself that it was a trick of the light but he knew better. He'd know those legs anywhere... there was only one pair like them in the world... and here they were... one draped over the other... as she sat on a stool at the bar.

He braced himself, expecting any moment to hear a pistol cocking behind his ear or to feel Sam's fists connecting with some part of his anatomy. *Nothing...* Taking a moment to survey the area he could perceive no imminent danger. *What is she doing here? Is she alone? Where are the rest of the Stooges... sweepers?* His first inclination was to turn right around - get himself and Zoe as far as possible away from there - but something stopped him, a sound. It was foreign yet strangely familiar and beautiful, incredibly beautiful. It was like the sound of his dreams, well, his good dreams anyway.

*Laughter... HER laughter!*

She was sharing a joke with the bartender; her laughter was sweet and delightful, without a trace of the usual derision or bitterness. There was also something different about her appearance - she wasn't decked out in her standard-issue iron lady attire. Instead she wore a pretty print dress, albeit of typical Parker altitude, and a pair of slip-on sandals, albeit of typical Parker elevation. Her legs were bare. But it was her hair that most astounded him - pulled up in what Jarod knew from a brief stint as a Beverly Hills hairdresser was called a French twist, a few loose wisps cascading down and grazing the ivory flesh of her bare neck. He momentarily forgot where he was, probably even who he was. He just stared for a time at the enticingly beautiful, but ultimately very dangerous, creature before him. *Well, are you going to stand here and gawk like an idiot or find out what the hell is going on?* Scanning the immediate environment once more, he moved gingerly toward the bar.

"So, what brings you to the 'Land of Enchantment?'" It took more effort than usual to force his voice into the familiar teasing tone he reserved for their encounters.

"Hello, Jarod." she replied casually without turning to look at him.

"You don't seem very surprised to see me." He sidled up on the stool next to hers.

"Why should I? It's getting to be an old routine with us - you always show up when I'm not looking for you... Another please, Sam," she called to the bartender.

"Right away, love," he replied with a wink.

She detected Jarod shift uneasily in the seat next to her and, turning to him, assured, "Different Sam. Don't worry, I left the other one home." She smiled kindly, a smile that reminded him of a beautiful girl he once knew. It nearly knocked him off his barstool. She quickly turned away again to face straight ahead. "So, what can I do for you? If it has anything to do with 'business' it'll have to wait until next week. I'm on vacation."

"What can you do for me! You expect me to believe that you have not tracked me here, that this is some sort of coincidence?"

"Funny, I assumed you followed me here for... who knows what... considering the things you manage to cook up with that odd little brain of yours. If you haven't, then believe what you like. It's a free country. Oh, thank you..." she added to the bartender as he placed another drink before her.

"Anytime, Ginger," he replied before directing his attention toward the new arrival. "What can I get you, buddy?"

*GINGER! Wait... did I say that out loud? God, I hope not...* "I'm sorry, did you say something?"

"I asked if there was anything I could get you."

"Yeah, uh, whatever P..." Parker glanced sideways at him, cocking one eyebrow. "Whatever she is drinking will be fine." *Probably not such a good idea - I need to keep my wits about me. Still, if ever I needed a drink... just a few sips... Besides, she is obviously drunk. Either that or she has recently sustained major head trauma...* "There isn't any alcohol in this!" Jarod announced after taking a sip.

Parker smirked and, nodding in the direction of the man sitting next to her, addressed Sam. "He is a genius, you know. A real bone fide, card carrying genius."

"You don't say." the bartender replied disinterestedly.

"What did you expect, Jarod, it's 11 in the morning! I never start drinking this early in the day. And you should thank your lucky stars I don't..." she lowered her voice and leaned into him "because it takes a really clear head and steady hands to just miss somebody you're shooting at, particularly when you are compelled to do it over and over again."

For a moment it felt as though the room was spinning forcing him to clutch the bar briefly to steady himself. It was not that what she said was any revelation – deep down he had always known she would never hurt him - but that she had said it at all. Between them there had always been more unspoken than spoken, much more. It was all part of that unwritten rulebook they had played by for years. The rules had been broken a few times, most notably by him when he had sent her that ridiculous Valentine, but he couldn't recall her ever committing a transgression so flagrant as this one.

"So," she continued, "what are you doing here? Official business, is it?" Looking around her she observed, "Nobody here seems to be in distress. Looks to me like a bunch of rich people on vacation... not a potential victim in sight."

"Well, I can tell you one thing, I am most definitely not here to see you!" he snapped, his voice betraying more hostility than he had intended. The bartender glanced up briefly from the glass he was polishing before turning his back to them.

Jarod colored slightly in response to the man's fleeting look of disapproval.

Either oblivious to his tone or ignoring it she remarked amiably, "Fancier digs than usual, Jarod. Hardly seems your style, unless..." Her eyes widened with the dawning realization and she turned to him, her face awash with shocked amusement. "You're not alone." She completed the thought in a barely audible voice or perhaps she didn't say it out loud but only mouthed the words, the humor in her eyes - those ice blue instruments of torture - a harbinger of the laughter that would come. He couldn't stand it and looked away from her, his color deepening.

"You've got to be kidding me!" she exclaimed in another aside to their audience of one behind the bar, "I take my first real vacation in God-knows-how-long and end up smack in the middle of Wonderboy's naughty field trip! This could only happen to me..." With that came the inevitable fit of laughter which, despite the trigger, remained sweet and absent of even the faintest hint of cruelty. Its only source appeared to be her genuine amusement at the situation and, for reasons he was neither inclined - nor mentally capable - to explore at the time, this instilled in Jarod an overwhelming desire to wring her neck.

Sam chuckled, as much in response to the sweet sound of her laughter as anything else. After all, how could he possibly grasp the significance of the little scene playing out before him? Years of observing the human condition from behind his bar did tell him one thing though: whatever the story was, this one was a duzy. As the woman he knew as "Ginger" fought to regain her composure he handed her a cocktail napkin so she could wipe away the tears now streaming down her cheeks. For the first time since the somewhat hostile stranger had joined her at the bar, Sam began to feel a little sorry for him. In his business he had seen many a descent into hell - still, this was one for the annals.

"I'm sorry, Jarod, but it's... just so... absurd!" She was practically hyperventilating as she struggled to speak.

"So you really are here on vacation." he conceded keeping his eyes affixed firmly to his glass.

"Yes, and I guess you are too. It really is too much." She observed shaking her head, having finally managed to pull herself together.

"Well, then, the next step is obvious."

Her interest piqued, she turned to Jarod, wiping another tear from under her eye. "And what, exactly, is that? Think carefully before you answer because I warn you: if you say shuffleboard, I think I'll pee." Sam chuckled again.

Ignoring her attempt at levity, his voice was gravely serious. "One of us will have to leave."

"Well then, Jarod, I'll say good-bye. I hope you find your next destination to be as lovely as this one."

"I was actually thinking that you would be the one to leave."

"Fat chance, lab rat!" In response to Sam's shocked and puzzled look she explained, "Long story... suffice it to say the two of us are 'business rivals.' I am quite capable of leaving work behind me but apparently our friend here is not."

"So, what you are telling me is that you will not leave."

"I believe that is the commonly accepted meaning of 'fat chance.' Wouldn't you agree Sam?" Shaking his head, the bartender shrugged slightly and turned away. He was a pro - and a pro always knows when to stay out of it.

"I... we were here first. It only seems fair..."

"What makes you so sure you were here first?" she challenged.

"Because I haven't seen you around and you know I am always keenly aware of my surroundings. I have to be."

*Always the martyr... poor hunted Jarod...* "Well, you wouldn't have seen me would you? You've probably hardly left your room!" She knew it was naughty but she couldn't help teasing him a little. It was, after all, the chance of a lifetime. "If you must know, I arrived late yesterday afternoon and I've been out in plain sight a great deal since. But then, I'm traveling alone this trip - there's less incentive for me to stay indoors." She winked at the bartender who smiled briefly before responding with a reproachful look that read, "Ah, come on, give the guy a break..."

*Last night! She, I, we were all here in the same hotel... She was here, on the premises, while Zoe and I were... OH MY GOD!* The truth was, he and Zoe had opted to 'stay in' the evening before. In fact, Parker was right on the money - they had spent more time in their room than anywhere else. Everything seemed to be spinning again, a faint nausea rose forcing him to swallow hard to quell it. *Get a grip, Jarod! What is wrong with you!*

"Well?" Parker was staring straight at him again.

"Well what?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"Which was?"

With a sigh of exasperation she asked again "How long have you been here?"

"Three days..." he replied absently as he strove to fully engage, once more, in the conversation. "Which means that, as usual, I was here first," he added, relieved that he had managed to lob one back at her.

"Well, I don't care if you've been here three months, I'm not going anywhere. Besides, you are the one who thinks this place isn't big enough for the two of us, so it should be you that leaves."

"This STATE isn't big enough for the two of us and you know it!"

Chuckling, Parker noted, "Gee, that sounds like one of my lines. We seem to have gotten our scripts mixed up today. Come on, Jarod, relax." Leaning in she confided, "My gun, cuffs, cell phone... left them all home too. I am not a danger to you this week. You have my word on that."

"Such as it is," he retorted.

"Well," she sighed, "I give up. If I can't convince you that's your problem, not mine. Stay or leave, it makes no difference to me, but I'm not going anywhere." With that, she glided off her barstool and motioned to both her and Jarod's glasses. "Charge them to my room, Sam. Oh, and another one for him - whatever he wants." The bartender nodded in assent.

"Have another on me, Jarod. As much as I'm enjoying this little reunion, I have an afternoon of therapeutic shopping ahead of me. Besides, it probably wouldn't do you any good to be found here, chatting up an 'old friend.'" He sensed her smile but refused to meet her gaze. "I guess I'll be seeing you..." she continued, "sooner or later. Enjoy the rest of your vacation." She gave him a casual, friendly pat on the shoulder, in response to which he spun around and glared at her. She backed up slightly, put her hands up and, without another word, turned and walked toward the door leading back into the lobby. Just before she went in she called back, "And tell that lady friend of yours to let you get some sun. You're looking a little pasty, Jarod."

Then it was over, as quickly as it began. She was gone - the only proof that she had been there at all, a lipstick-stained glass perched on the bar next to Jarod's left hand and a faint trace of Chanel or, to be precise, the way Chanel smells on her, lingering in the air... *Exquisite...*

"So, what'll it be, buddy?" Sam inquired cheerily, hoping to lift the spirits of his remaining customer.

Turning back to face him, Jarod answered tentatively, "Another of these would be nice only..." The bartender patiently waited for Jarod to complete the thought even though he anticipated the rest. "Please don't leave the alcohol out of this one."

"As you wish," he smiled as he grabbed up the empty glasses and snapped another cocktail napkin on the bar.

"There you are, knucklehead! I was wondering where you were hiding."

Zoe... At the sound of her voice, Jarod swallowed hard the sip of the drink he had just taken. His head was pounding, the drink not setting at all well in his stomach. He turned to face his companion and, summoning every bit of his strength, managed to produce a smile in response to hers. All the while one thought turned in his mind: *I'm not having fun anymore...*









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