It was the third anniversary of his death and Parker could barely bring herself to get out of bed. She was so tired, tired of everything, and yet sleep eluded her almost every night now. It seemed harder and harder every day to find a reason to keep going.

Forcing her eyes open she went through the routine that would get her in the shower, some strong black coffee brewing. Then somehow she would find the strength to face yet another day at work, chasing Jarod who was ever elusive and getting nastier with his pranks. Perhaps he was as weary of their game as she was. When it had first started, although she would never admit it, even she could see the sense of humour behind it. Now however, it felt forced, like there was something darker driving him. Things had never been the same after Scotland, for either of them. She supposed it didn’t really matter though, not in the long run. The simple truth was she was getting weary of all of this, and her life was passing her by.

By the time she was out of the shower Parker had most of her emotional armour in place. Sipping the coffee, which was much stronger than she used to like it, she thought about how to get through another day and wondered why she bothered. Telling herself today was no different from any of the others really. There was the incessant troubles with her brother who took a perverse delight in torturing her with his presence, oh and don’t forget Sydney, who constantly tried to reach out to her. How she hated his inept interference and his platitudes that were straight from a damn Hallmark card. Maybe making fun of Broots would help to relieve the pressure and boredom. Yes, the day was just full of fun and satisfying moments.

Sitting herself down in front of her vanity mirror she started applying the makeup, the last chink in her formidable armour. Catching her breath as she caught the familiar checked pattern of the shirt poking out from the closet in the mirror, she stared at it for an indeterminate amount of time, shocked out of her reverie by the shrill of her phone.

"What!?" she snapped as she answered it, shaken by how lost she had just felt. She felt as if she was no longer certain of how she was, what she should feel. The gaping hole her father had left had affected her far more than she wanted to admit and if she wasn't 'Daddy's Angel', then who the hell was she? Parker liked to feel as if she was in control, although she was finally coming to understand what a farce that really was.

"Just not a morning person, are you Miss Parker?" Jarod asked, noticing her tone was even more snappy than usual. The moment he said it, he regretted it, not wanting to fight with her. Old habits were hard to break and he no longer had any concept of how to deal with her without their usual props, it seemed that was all that was left between them now and he needed to find a way to fix that somehow, and he wasn’t off to a very good start.

"Jarod," she said, tensing as she heard the familiar voice. "I should have known it would be you," she said with bitter irony. The gall of the bastard to ring on this day.

"Miss Parker, it isn't too late yet, that turning point is still there." Jarod told her softly. It was a sad day for him as well and he just felt the need to reach out, talk to her, try to share some of the pain. Of course, she wouldn’t see it like that, she would take this as some personal insult, as she always did.

"You need to get a new routine Monkey-Boy, that one is getting tired fast." The anger was welling in her now, crystallising at the thought of how vulnerable she was to him still, his taunts and barbs. Something had to give, that much was certain.

"This is not a routine Miss Parker," Jarod said gently, wishing somehow he could make her understand that he wasn’t trying to torture her. Why couldn’t she see that he just needed to talk to somebody? Was that so hard for her to comprehend, accept? Why couldn’t she see that he needed a friend, to reach out for some comfort? He had nobody else.

She wasn’t listening though as she stared at the reflection of that shirt, the pain of loss and emptiness almost overwhelming her. The stark realisation of what her life was was becoming harder and harder to hide from and it suddenly hit her with full force. She could hear Jarod's voice faintly, enough to hear the concern in it, but not enough to make out the words. She knew that this couldn’t go on the way it was any longer. Her eyes were glued to the reflection of the shirt and she accepted for the first time that he would not have wanted this for her, she embraced it.

Focusing back on the mirror, Parker looked at herself as if for the first time. What she saw wasn’t a reflection of her mother. She wasn’t her father and most certainly not her brother. Her family was like a millstone around her neck and nobody was going to save her if she didn’t save herself. She knew what she was going to have to do, the only question was whether she had the strength.

Hanging up the phone, cutting Jarod off in mid-sentence, she picked up the photo of her and her mother and touched the glass with her fingertips. "Momma," she breathed as a kind of peace descended upon her, an inner calm she had never felt before. For the first time she thought she might have understood why her mother had done what she had done, made the hard choices she had made.

Jarod was right about one thing, it was well past time to face that turning point and perhaps she finally had allowed herself to see the possibility of something to turn to.


*~*~*~*~*~*

Jarod stared at the phone in shock as he heard the dial tone. "Miss Parker?" he called stupidly, knowing she wasn’t there, but trying anyway. Usually he was the one to hang up on them, not the other way around. She hadn’t even tried to pump him for information about where he might be. He put the phone down in worry, something in her voice hadn’t been right and all the years he had called her, never once had the conversation gone like that, no matter how much he annoyed her.

Something was wrong and Jarod had no idea what it might be, something other than the fact it was the anniversary of her losing Thomas, although he guessed that was reason enough. Turning to his computer he decided it was time to call Sydney, see if he had noticed anything wrong with her, any aberrant behaviour. An excursion into the mainframe might reveal some clue as to what might be going on at the Centre to have so upset her.

The decision was made, every angle analysed and then re-examined again and again. It still wasn’t too late to turn back, but she was committed emotionally and had made peace with herself, as much as was possible anyway. She was sleeping better than she had in a long time, even without any alcohol to assist her, numb the dreams and keep the nightmares away. This last week had brought a remarkable difference to her general well being. Even Sydney knew something was up and she suspected that he believed she was in love again, although he had been surprisingly circumspect with his curiosity. Once she had told him to butt out, he had, which was unusual in itself. She didn’t really care though, far too much on her mind to worry about the shrink, who would make something out of nothing anyway.

She didn’t want to examine her feelings too closely, she was calmer than she had been in a long time. Not happy, but not miserable either. Everything was in place, as much as it could be and it was now time to set it in motion. After today, for better or for worse, nothing would ever be the same again.

Her choice of wardrobe had been meticulously planned this morning, one of her shortest red skirts and a low cut silk blouse that left very little to the imagination. Applying her makeup with more care than usual she looked at her reflection critically, wondering if she could really go through with it. She knew it was the only way and now she had to trust herself. She could stop this now, it was her last chance, as once she set this in motion, she would no longer have any choice, and perhaps that was for the best. Getting up she looked around at the room before moving downstairs, a purpose in her stride that hadn’t been there last week.


Avoiding Freud and his sidekick, she headed straight for the elevator, the very same one her mother supposedly had died in. Looking up at the small hole only strengthened her resolve, convincing her even further that her mother had been right. She had made the only choice she could and now it was Parker's turn to do the same, no matter how difficult that was. Pushing aside the sadness that threatened to engulf her she looked up at it defiantly. She wasn’t her mother and she was going to make damn sure she didn’t end up like her mother had, trusting the wrong people.

The elevator came to a stop and she took one last fortifying breath. It was show time. Straightening her long coat and smoothing down her skirt, she planted a seductive smile on her face, knowing the impact it would have on him, using that in the way only she could. There was no room now for self doubts or recriminations and any that might have surfaced were quickly pushed away.

Exiting the lift she practically stalked down to his office, ignoring the look his pretty Asian secretary sent her way. Typical Lyle to have Miss Asia running to fill his every whim. She almost felt sorry for the little fool, who no doubt thought doing her boss was going to get her ahead. Covering any lingering fear and doubt with outwards bravado she shot the woman a look that made her wilt just a little, and that brought out a genuine smile. If she could sell this, if he bought this, then today was the beginning of the rest of her life and there would be no looking back.

Not stopping at the closed doors, or bothering to knock, she pushed the doors open in an excessively dramatic gesture, that she seemed so capable of pulling off, and sauntered into his office, exuding a confidence she didn’t really feel. Briefly she wondered if this was what it was like to pretend, if this was what Jarod felt every day of his life, and she quickly pushed that thought aside as she saw Lyle look up, a brief look of annoyance at the interruption fleeting across his face, but was just as quickly replaced with a smile she supposed he thought was charming.

Keeping the smile on her face as he looked up, she gave him a moment to stare and admire the view. His cool eyes were running up and down her body, clearly liking what he saw. Good, he would like what was coming next even more and that could only work in her favour.

Lyle looked up, smelling her perfume and smiling, the remark about the elusive art of knocking dying as he saw her. He let his eyes run up her long legs lazily and then finally rested on her eyes, after spending an indecent amount of time on her plunging neckline. He was surprised by what he saw in her blue eyes, that seemed to have defrosted a few degrees. She really had gone all out today, but that was not the surprising thing. He knew she dressed that way so people would look, and they always did, it was hard not to. What was surprising was the fact that she didn’t seem to be spitting hatred at him, there was something in her eyes he had never seen before. This intrigued him, and frightened him a little, a delicate shiver of fear that was rather delectable. This was quite a change for Parker and despite her being so magnificent when she was angry, he was quite impressed with this new turn in events, imagining just where this might go.

Parker watched his reactions, smiling inwardly as she saw his appreciative ogling. "Lyle," she practically purred as she sat on the edge of his desk casually, not quite in his lap, but certainly invading his personal space, not taking her eyes from his.

"Parker," Lyle drawled back, leaning back a little in his chair casually, interested to see what she thought she was doing with this game. Whatever she thought she was going to achieve or get out of him, he was going to have some fun playing.

Parker watched him for a long moment without saying anything, measuring her thoughts and reactions carefully, as well as his. Finally when the tension was becoming a little too much, the air all but crackling between them, Lyle clearly content to just stare at her, she leaned forward, her mouth practically on his. "I have a deal for you," she said in a throaty whisper, her lips never quite touching his, but tantalisingly close. She had waited, knowing that she could both arouse and intimidate him at the same time and that he was likely to find that a rather heady mix.

Lyle almost choked in surprise, but recovered quickly. Whatever it was, she wanted it pretty badly to come on so strong like this. "You do?" he asked, feigning disinterest as he pulled back all the way now. She might be able to manipulate others like that, but he was the master at this game. He would likely give her what she wanted, or at least let her think he would, but it would be on his terms, not hers.