Monday Morning Oasis by Deb Patrickphile, admin
Monday Morning Oasis by Deb Patrickphile
March, 2001

Be kind. I don't consider myself a writer. On rare occasions (VERY rare) I am "forced" into putting something down on paper, after which I run screaming from the room. ;-)

This short, little piece was written in response to a challenge on the Patrick Bauchau Yahoo Group. The challenge was to write something in which Sydney comes into his office, finds a package and opens it, and then his face lights up with joy.

Do not archive without the prior, written permission of the author (that would be me). E-mail address follows the story.

I don't own the characters of Sydney, Miss Parker, et al; no infringement is intended from their use in this story. The Pretender and its characters belong to 20th Century Fox TV, NBC and Imagiquest Entertainment.


Monday Morning Oasis
by Deb "Patrickphile"

Sydney walked wearily into his office and plopped down into his chair, not even bothering to glance at the mountain of paperwork accumulated on his desk. It had been a long day. Raines was slinking around the Centre with Lyle at his heels. They were up to something, though only God and the Devil knew what. Miss Parker was on edge and on the warpath. Broots was chattering nervously at every turn. And Sydney's own nerves were frayed from trying to keep the two of them on an even keel, and keep Parker from going "postal" on the poor tech. Yes, it had been a long day indeed.

Sydney sighed and turned his eyes towards the desk, realizing that avoidance wouldn't make his work disappear. For the first time, he saw the package lying there. It was a small box, wrapped in simple, yet decorative, silver paper. Sydney darted a glance around the office, wondering who could have left the box -- and who from the Centre might be waiting, watching him.

He sat there for a moment with his eyebrows raised, contemplating the package. Finally he reached for the box, carefully pulled the paper away and pried open the top to reveal what was inside. A smile slowly spread over his countenance as he perused the box's contents. He lifted the envelope from the top, immediately recognizing Parker's bold yet graceful handwriting in the single written word: "Sydney." He reached for the letter opener on his desk and sliced the envelope open, then read the enclosed note:

"To my favorite Freud, from your favorite Ice Queen. Don't go getting all mushy on me now. Parker."

Chuckling slightly, he put the note aside and reached into the box once again to remove the remaining item. It was a small plant -- from the cactus family. Sydney chuckled again, a bit louder this time, then started laughing. "Quintessential Parker," he thought. Only she would think to give a "peace offering" that commented on both their personalities, as well as the sometimes prickly nature of their relationship.

Sydney placed the cactus to the side, a huge grin now plastered on his face. Suddenly "Mt. Paperwork" seemed to loom less large, and he began to make his way through the hard-copy evidence of Centre bureaucracy. Maybe this day would turn out all right after all.


This story archived at