Title: The Salubrious Nexus
Author: Rising Sun
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Summary: Parker’s constant following of Jarod will one day get her in trouble.

Classification1: Pretender Story/Romance: Jarod/Miss Parker
Classification2: Crossover The Pretender/Addams Family
Disclaimer: NONE of the characters portrayed belong to me. No copyright infringement intended. All other characters depicted are purely fictional and any similarities to actual people are purely coincidental.

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Permission to archive: Permission granted.
Story written – October 26, 2002


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Not for the first time did Angel Parker figuratively kick herself for following Jarod any and every where. She turned and looked at him.



He caught the look “What?”



“I was just thinking that after dogging you for almost five years …”



“And catching me.”



“… and catching you. That I’m still following you.”



“There’s a difference.”



She snorted.



He explained, “Then it was duty.”



“Now its duty.”



He tried again “Then it was a job.”



She softened and nodded slightly “I suppose.”



He pressed the advantage. “Now its love.”



She examined him for a moment. “Love will be my undoing. Look around Jarod. We are the only colors in the room, the only things alive. The air is acrid and thick with heat, filled with wet sounds, hot sounds, the sounds of dying things, the sounds of ruin.” She rattled and then began to pace.



She stopped as suddenly as she had begun. “I followed you here. No mystery there but what possessed you to come to this God forsaken place!”



“A call …”



She threw up her hands. “A call for help will be your death if not mine.”



By her watch that conversation had taken place hours ago. At this point, she didn't know if she was holding up or if it was him that was supporting her. Something was not right. She chuckled to herself – there was an understatement. Her stomach growled – loudly. She adjusted herself to look at her husband and concluded that it must be the latter, as he was as stiff as a board.



“Jarod!” she shook him.



Suddenly a door swung open a tall slim woman dressed in a long gown in complete black shuffled in. “Ah there you are.” She oozed. She noted the tableau. “Something wrong?”



Parker glared at the apparition in disbelief. The woman shuffled deeper into the room. Parker noted that the dress was too tight to allow any other kind of movement, that’s when she saw the man in her wake.



“That Jarod cara mia?” The man asked enthusiastically.



“Oui mon cher” She assured him.



“Tish you spoke French!” He moved in on her.



“Enough!” Parker snapped.



“Sorry.” Trish looked contrite. She waived her hands “Gomez pick up the poor man.”



Gomez did as instructed and the four left the would be jail. As they wound their way through the gothic mansion Gomez asked the burning question. “What were you doing down in the dungeon of disillusion?”



They rounded the corner and Parker never answered. “Ah here we are.” Tish announced. “Mama we have a patient for you.”



Parker watched the Halloween Witch approach Jarod. “Now wait a minute!”



Tish took her arm “It’s ok my dear. Mama is the best in the business.”



Parker dared not ask what business.


As the crone examined Jarod she spoke “Where’d you find him Mortishia?”



Gomez stood with his arms full “Would you believe in the dungeon of disillusion?”



“The dungeon of disillusion?” she repeated.



“The dungeon of disillusion.” Mortishia assured her. “Will you need leaches?”



Parker’s eyes bulged she opened her mouth to speak but suddenly the whole house rocked as if an earthquake had hit. Morthisha had rung the gong.



A giant appeared and growled “You raaaang?”



“Yes Lurch dear. Detox hemlock tea please, the pure version maybe too strong for our guests. “ She instructed “Ah mama the leaches worked.”



Parker decided that this was a dream. It had to be.



“Nah!!!!” Mama replied “Smelling salts.”



“Found a use for it at last!” Gomez put Jarod down. Parker was at his side instantly. “Get me out of here.” She hissed, “I’d rather be back at the Center.”



“What?” Jarod was shocked “…and miss Wednesday’s birthday party?”





~*~*~ The End ~*~*~



Situation Challenge

Posted to http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ffchallange/ by Mary-Eve

We are the only colors in the room, the only things alive. The air is acrid and thick with heat, filled with wet sounds and hot sounds and the sounds of dying things, the sounds of ruin. At this point, I don't know if I'm holding up or it's him that's supporting me. I think it must be the latter, as he's as stiff as…

(Situation taken from the beginning of an X.-Files story by M. Etheridge)