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Brand New Year, Part 7
By Ginger
"Almost home!" Jarod chirped as the cabin came into view, grinning as the child on his shoulders chuckled delightedly and wrapped his arms more tightly around his father's forehead.
He'd had a ball walking his son through the woods and pointing out all sorts of things, including several species of tree and plant, and a few creatures too. He'd been especially delighted when a white rabbit crossed their path, relishing in the opportunity to inform Michael of his mother's affection for bunnies. They'd been outdoors for nearly two hours and he figured Andi would have his head if he kept the boy out any longer. Besides, it was almost lunchtime.
"We'll get into some warm, dry clothes, have something yummy to eat, and cuddle up to Mommy," Jarod explained as he bounced up the stairs, adding wryly, "Well, YOU'LL cuddle up to Mommy. Some of us aren't quite so lucky."
He pulled Michael off his shoulders and burst through the front door announcing, "We're back!"
Emily was coming down the stairs at the same time and remarked, "Jeez, Jarod, you might want to repeat that. I don't think they quite heard you in Toledo."
"We had a wonderful walk," he stated with a grin. "We even got to see a bunny, which we'll have to tell Mommy all about, won't we."
Turning to enter the den, he caught sight of James sitting on the couch beside Parker, who appeared to be wiping tears from her cheeks. His expression hardening, he turned to his sister and requested gravely, "Please take him upstairs, Em, and get him dried off."
Having herself noticed Parker's apparent emotional state, as well as her brother's abrupt change in demeanor, Emily wordlessly whisked the child away. Pulling his coat open angrily, Jarod charged into the room.
"James," he began in a low, controlled tone. "What, may I ask, are you doing?"
"I... we were just talking," the young man stammered, sensing Jarod's hostility.
"Just talking, eh? So why is she crying?"
"I'm fine," Parker interjected. "Really, I..."
"Get up," Jarod demanded, his voice quivering with rage.
"But..."
"I said get up!"
"Jarod, please," Parker pleaded, again trying to intervene.
"It's okay," James uttered softly then squeezed her hand and added, "I can handle this," before standing up.
"Go to your room!" Jarod ordered.
"Go to hell!" James responded.
Flashing with anger, Jarod took a step forward and warned, "Would you like to repeat that?"
"What for? You never listen!" the young man challenged.
"I NEVER LISTEN? After your little outburst this morning, I should have known better than to trust you alone with her! I specifically TOLD you that we were not going to push her or upset her in any way! So what did you do? The moment I had my back turned..."
"I had an open and honest conversation with her, which is something you've been too busy playing your stupid little games to do!"
"How DARE you!" Jarod shouted, shaking with anger. "You don't know anything about it, about HER! You've known her all of two days! I've known her a lifetime!"
"What in God's name is going on here?"
Everyone in the room turned to find the Major standing in the doorway and looking thoroughly ticked off.
"Well?" he added impatiently. "I'm waiting!"
Slipping her legs off the couch, Parker made a move to stand. When both James and Jarod lunged for her at the same time, she raised her right hand and barked, "Back off! And I mean BOTH OF YOU!" then added more gently, "Major, if you wouldn't mind..."
"Of course, Miss Parker," he replied, shooting both men a scornful look as he stepped around the sofa to assist her. Walking her out of the room he advised, "I'll expect an explanation the moment I get back down here."
As soon as Charles and Parker were out of earshot James spat, "I hope you're happy! I was 'this close' to getting her to agree to stay. Now we'll be lucky if she doesn't grab Michael and run like hell in the middle of the night!"
"I hope YOU'RE happy! I told you not to upset her and..." Jarod paused, blinked at him and demanded, "Wait a minute, what do you mean you were 'this close' to getting her to agree to stay?"
* * * *
"There you go," the Major uttered softly as he helped Parker into bed.
"Thank you," she replied awkwardly. Looking supremely uncomfortable, she hesitated a moment then added, "I realize this isn't the family holiday you had in mind, and it looks like that old Parker karma has struck again. I just want you to know that if there had been any other way to keep him safe, I wouldn't have..."
"Miss Parker," he interrupted with a sad smile as he sank into a chair at her bedside. "I hope you are not going to apologize for bringing Michael here."
"No. I'm... I'm not very good at apologies, but it's MY presence here that I'm talking about. It cannot be very comfortable for your family and everyone has been great. Well, until a few minutes ago."
Charles reflected a moment then leaned forward in his chair and said, "Let me ask you something."
"Yes?"
"Did you willingly participate in the creation and incarceration of my grandson?"
Her eyes widening Parker responded defensively, "Of course not! I didn't get this hole in my shoulder playing laser tag! I shot three people - one fatally, I think - to get him out of there!"
Nodding and smiling wryly he asked, "Then why are we having this conversation? If what my son told us is true then you were just as much a victim of this travesty as he. As for the 'Parker karma' or whatever you call it, I don't think that display downstairs had anything to do with it. I think that was simply a case of two men competing for the attention of a pretty lady."
His smile evolved into a soft chuckle and he observed, "Why, Miss Parker, you should see your face."
"Please, Major, call me Miranda," she whispered, lowering her eyes.
"Only if you call me Charles," he replied warmly. Reaching out to place his hand over hers, he continued, "And thank you for bringing him to us. That boy is definitely a keeper. If Catherine could see you now, I know she would be very proud."
Parker met his eyes briefly then looked away, prompting him to offer, "I'll leave you to rest a while before lunch."
Rising from his seat he tacked on humorously, "In the meantime, I have a couple thick heads to knock together."
"Thank you, Charles."
"My pleasure, Miranda."
* * * *
"Well, this is festive," Emily muttered as she sat alone at the kitchen table, her chin resting in the palm of one hand.
The new year was certainly off to a rousing start. Miss Parker had declined to come downstairs for lunch, which was probably just as well since the meal turned out to be a silent, rather tense, affair. Jarod was withdrawn, James was sullen, and her father appeared somewhere between mildly irritated at, and faintly amused by, the two of them.
Emily couldn't help but let a little resentment creep in. After all, this was the woman who had chased her and her mother away from Jarod in Boston, not to mention having worked for years for the organization that had torn apart their family. And here she was, provoking arguments, monopolizing the attention of every man in the house and, apparently, leaving Emily alone to reflect upon the incompleteness of the reunion.
"Now you're projecting," she sighed, dropping her arm flat onto the table and lowering her head to rest her face in the crook of her elbow.
Emily blamed herself as much as anyone for her Margaret's continued absence. She should have refused when, after the close call in Boston, her mother had insisted that she would be safer if they split up. Separating from her mother had been the hardest thing she'd ever done and she missed her terribly.
But everything was different now; there was a new addition to the family. Michael was Jarod's son and he was also Miss Parker's son, and there was no undoing that. Not that Emily wanted to; the child was a living doll and her brother was clearly besotted with him. He was obviously crazy about the boy's mother too, and she figured there was no changing that either. Whether she liked it or not, the fact was that Miss Parker had been a part of Jarod's life longer than any of them and, therefore, probably knew him a lot better than they did or ever would. He'd barely left her side since her arrival, and not out of a sense of duty but because it was where he truly wanted to be.
So, she'd suck it up and deal with it. Again. She'd deal with suddenly having a nephew just like she dealt with suddenly having a full- grown half-brother. She'd deal with the fact that Jarod was in love with a woman who had spent five years hunting him. She'd even deal with the fact that she now shared blood ties with that monster who nearly killed her in Philadelphia. She'd deal with it because she had a lifetime of practice and because, again, she had no choice.
* * * *
Shoving his hands more deeply into his pockets, James kicked angrily at the snow covered ground beneath his feet. Declaring that he needed some fresh air, he had left the house right after lunch and wandered through the woods ever since with no particular direction in mind. He had no intention of going back until he felt better, and could only hope that he wouldn't freeze to death first.
All he had wanted to do for his loved ones was something that Jarod did all the time for complete strangers: keep a family together. And it wasn't as though he'd been acting on some sort of whim. He felt... No, he KNEW that it was what he was supposed to do. On one of those nights when she had come to him in his dreams, and held him like he'd always imagined a mother would, he had asked, "Why are you here?"
"Because we're family," she had replied with a luminescent smile. He hadn't understsood at the time but really hadn't cared much either. Thinking back on it later, he'd been even more confused. He knew precisely where he'd come from and, if anyone could be considered his mother, it was Margaret not Catherine. In fact the more he'd thought about it the less sense it made to him until this week when it all became absolutely clear. He was Jarod's family, Jarod was Michael's family, and Michael was Miranda's family. Well, that made Miranda HIS family too and even if Jarod was too pig-headed, or just plain weird, to keep her from leaving then HE sure as hell wasn't going to let it happen.
So he had told her everything, every single detail from every single dream about her mother. She'd started to cry, and cried even more when he said that Michael was a lucky kid and that he couldn't imagine anything more wonderful than having her as a mother. To lighten the mood a bit, he'd grinned impishly and remarked, "Well, maybe I can think of ONE thing." Miranda had laughed through tears and it was a shockingly beautiful sight. He'd been in the midst of asking her to reconsider leaving her son, and requesting that she not consign him to a life of only dreaming of her touch, when Jarod burst in and ruined everything.
"And THAT'S the gene pool I was fished out of," he grumbled.
* * * *
He paced to the window, glanced outside anxiously then turned around to gaze wistfully up the staircase. He paced across the room to where his son sat on the rug, heavily engrossed in a construction project with Lincoln Logs, and smiled down at him before turning around to repeat the entire process for about the thirtieth time.
"Jarod," the Major sighed, his ability to concentrate on the model C5 cargo plane he was building severely hampered by his son's incessant pacing.
"Sorry, Dad," he offered. "I'm doing it again, aren't I?"
"You never stopped."
Jarod finally did stop, rubbed his forehead and explained, "It's just that I've never raised my voice to him like that before. To her, yes, about a thousand times but she's... different."
"Clearly," Charles commented wryly, adding, "I wouldn't worry about James. He's out there walking, licking his wounds, and cursing the day you were born."
"Really?" Jarod asked, looking miserable.
"And I assure you that it's entirely normal. He's a teenager and he'll be back when he gets cold and hungry. You know, son, even in the best of families people have been known to occasionally raise their voices at one another. Just try to avoid making a habit of it."
"I guess you're right. I just don't know what got into me."
"Don't you?" his father asked knowingly.
Sighing Jarod replied, "Well, maybe I do, but I've probably managed to erase every trace of good will that existed between us. And after finally achieving status as a human being in her eyes. God, what an idiot I am."
"Funny you should say that," the Major remarked innocently as he resumed tinkering with the model. "Because she seems to blame herself for the whole thing."
"She does?"
"When I helped her upstairs, she essentially apologized for her presence here and suggested that the argument was the result of some sort of Parker curse."
"Oh she did, did she?" Jarod challenged then began pacing again and muttering, "She always does this, seizes upon any possible excuse to draw a line between us."
Shaking his head, the Major watched in disbelief until he'd finally had enough and blurted, "For crying out loud, son! Will you just go up there and talk to her already?"
"O... okay," Jarod responded looking slightly taken aback. With a smirk he added, "I guess you weren't kidding about family members raising their voices at one another."
"No," his father sighed. "I was not. But I'd appreciate it if you would refrain from compelling me to do it often."
* * * *
"Parker?" Jarod called into the semi-dark room as he spotted her lithe form beneath the covers. She didn't stir but he knew she wasn't sleeping.
"Miranda?" he called again and then, finally, "Andi?"
"What do you want?" she inquired flatly.
"I want to... to apologize for..."
"Behaving like a brute, a bully, a lunatic?"
"Well, yes... for a start," he replied with a smile as he approached the bed.
"You should be apologizing to James," she stated.
"I know, and I will, but right now I need to talk to you."
Bypassing the chair, he sat down on the edge of the bed beside her. Parker blinked at him in surprise and immediately propelled herself into a half-seated position. Without ceremony he reached for her right hand, pulled it to his mouth, turned it over, and pressed his lips to her palm. She flinched but did not pull away. Gazing into her eyes, he saw that they were wide and vulnerable. He lifted his lips from her hand but did not let it go as he spoke so softly that his voice was barely above a whisper.
"Emotions have been running fairly high around here the past couple of days, and I'm sorry I overreacted this morning. But on the way up here, I realized that's not what I was coming to say to you. I'm tired of playing stupid little games, so I'm going to stop and ask you to stay. Please stay, Andi. Please stay and help me raise our son."
# # # #
Brand New Year, Part 7
By Ginger
"Almost home!" Jarod chirped as the cabin came into view, grinning as the child on his shoulders chuckled delightedly and wrapped his arms more tightly around his father's forehead.
He'd had a ball walking his son through the woods and pointing out all sorts of things, including several species of tree and plant, and a few creatures too. He'd been especially delighted when a white rabbit crossed their path, relishing in the opportunity to inform Michael of his mother's affection for bunnies. They'd been outdoors for nearly two hours and he figured Andi would have his head if he kept the boy out any longer. Besides, it was almost lunchtime.
"We'll get into some warm, dry clothes, have something yummy to eat, and cuddle up to Mommy," Jarod explained as he bounced up the stairs, adding wryly, "Well, YOU'LL cuddle up to Mommy. Some of us aren't quite so lucky."
He pulled Michael off his shoulders and burst through the front door announcing, "We're back!"
Emily was coming down the stairs at the same time and remarked, "Jeez, Jarod, you might want to repeat that. I don't think they quite heard you in Toledo."
"We had a wonderful walk," he stated with a grin. "We even got to see a bunny, which we'll have to tell Mommy all about, won't we."
Turning to enter the den, he caught sight of James sitting on the couch beside Parker, who appeared to be wiping tears from her cheeks. His expression hardening, he turned to his sister and requested gravely, "Please take him upstairs, Em, and get him dried off."
Having herself noticed Parker's apparent emotional state, as well as her brother's abrupt change in demeanor, Emily wordlessly whisked the child away. Pulling his coat open angrily, Jarod charged into the room.
"James," he began in a low, controlled tone. "What, may I ask, are you doing?"
"I... we were just talking," the young man stammered, sensing Jarod's hostility.
"Just talking, eh? So why is she crying?"
"I'm fine," Parker interjected. "Really, I..."
"Get up," Jarod demanded, his voice quivering with rage.
"But..."
"I said get up!"
"Jarod, please," Parker pleaded, again trying to intervene.
"It's okay," James uttered softly then squeezed her hand and added, "I can handle this," before standing up.
"Go to your room!" Jarod ordered.
"Go to hell!" James responded.
Flashing with anger, Jarod took a step forward and warned, "Would you like to repeat that?"
"What for? You never listen!" the young man challenged.
"I NEVER LISTEN? After your little outburst this morning, I should have known better than to trust you alone with her! I specifically TOLD you that we were not going to push her or upset her in any way! So what did you do? The moment I had my back turned..."
"I had an open and honest conversation with her, which is something you've been too busy playing your stupid little games to do!"
"How DARE you!" Jarod shouted, shaking with anger. "You don't know anything about it, about HER! You've known her all of two days! I've known her a lifetime!"
"What in God's name is going on here?"
Everyone in the room turned to find the Major standing in the doorway and looking thoroughly ticked off.
"Well?" he added impatiently. "I'm waiting!"
Slipping her legs off the couch, Parker made a move to stand. When both James and Jarod lunged for her at the same time, she raised her right hand and barked, "Back off! And I mean BOTH OF YOU!" then added more gently, "Major, if you wouldn't mind..."
"Of course, Miss Parker," he replied, shooting both men a scornful look as he stepped around the sofa to assist her. Walking her out of the room he advised, "I'll expect an explanation the moment I get back down here."
As soon as Charles and Parker were out of earshot James spat, "I hope you're happy! I was 'this close' to getting her to agree to stay. Now we'll be lucky if she doesn't grab Michael and run like hell in the middle of the night!"
"I hope YOU'RE happy! I told you not to upset her and..." Jarod paused, blinked at him and demanded, "Wait a minute, what do you mean you were 'this close' to getting her to agree to stay?"
* * * *
"There you go," the Major uttered softly as he helped Parker into bed.
"Thank you," she replied awkwardly. Looking supremely uncomfortable, she hesitated a moment then added, "I realize this isn't the family holiday you had in mind, and it looks like that old Parker karma has struck again. I just want you to know that if there had been any other way to keep him safe, I wouldn't have..."
"Miss Parker," he interrupted with a sad smile as he sank into a chair at her bedside. "I hope you are not going to apologize for bringing Michael here."
"No. I'm... I'm not very good at apologies, but it's MY presence here that I'm talking about. It cannot be very comfortable for your family and everyone has been great. Well, until a few minutes ago."
Charles reflected a moment then leaned forward in his chair and said, "Let me ask you something."
"Yes?"
"Did you willingly participate in the creation and incarceration of my grandson?"
Her eyes widening Parker responded defensively, "Of course not! I didn't get this hole in my shoulder playing laser tag! I shot three people - one fatally, I think - to get him out of there!"
Nodding and smiling wryly he asked, "Then why are we having this conversation? If what my son told us is true then you were just as much a victim of this travesty as he. As for the 'Parker karma' or whatever you call it, I don't think that display downstairs had anything to do with it. I think that was simply a case of two men competing for the attention of a pretty lady."
His smile evolved into a soft chuckle and he observed, "Why, Miss Parker, you should see your face."
"Please, Major, call me Miranda," she whispered, lowering her eyes.
"Only if you call me Charles," he replied warmly. Reaching out to place his hand over hers, he continued, "And thank you for bringing him to us. That boy is definitely a keeper. If Catherine could see you now, I know she would be very proud."
Parker met his eyes briefly then looked away, prompting him to offer, "I'll leave you to rest a while before lunch."
Rising from his seat he tacked on humorously, "In the meantime, I have a couple thick heads to knock together."
"Thank you, Charles."
"My pleasure, Miranda."
* * * *
"Well, this is festive," Emily muttered as she sat alone at the kitchen table, her chin resting in the palm of one hand.
The new year was certainly off to a rousing start. Miss Parker had declined to come downstairs for lunch, which was probably just as well since the meal turned out to be a silent, rather tense, affair. Jarod was withdrawn, James was sullen, and her father appeared somewhere between mildly irritated at, and faintly amused by, the two of them.
Emily couldn't help but let a little resentment creep in. After all, this was the woman who had chased her and her mother away from Jarod in Boston, not to mention having worked for years for the organization that had torn apart their family. And here she was, provoking arguments, monopolizing the attention of every man in the house and, apparently, leaving Emily alone to reflect upon the incompleteness of the reunion.
"Now you're projecting," she sighed, dropping her arm flat onto the table and lowering her head to rest her face in the crook of her elbow.
Emily blamed herself as much as anyone for her Margaret's continued absence. She should have refused when, after the close call in Boston, her mother had insisted that she would be safer if they split up. Separating from her mother had been the hardest thing she'd ever done and she missed her terribly.
But everything was different now; there was a new addition to the family. Michael was Jarod's son and he was also Miss Parker's son, and there was no undoing that. Not that Emily wanted to; the child was a living doll and her brother was clearly besotted with him. He was obviously crazy about the boy's mother too, and she figured there was no changing that either. Whether she liked it or not, the fact was that Miss Parker had been a part of Jarod's life longer than any of them and, therefore, probably knew him a lot better than they did or ever would. He'd barely left her side since her arrival, and not out of a sense of duty but because it was where he truly wanted to be.
So, she'd suck it up and deal with it. Again. She'd deal with suddenly having a nephew just like she dealt with suddenly having a full- grown half-brother. She'd deal with the fact that Jarod was in love with a woman who had spent five years hunting him. She'd even deal with the fact that she now shared blood ties with that monster who nearly killed her in Philadelphia. She'd deal with it because she had a lifetime of practice and because, again, she had no choice.
* * * *
Shoving his hands more deeply into his pockets, James kicked angrily at the snow covered ground beneath his feet. Declaring that he needed some fresh air, he had left the house right after lunch and wandered through the woods ever since with no particular direction in mind. He had no intention of going back until he felt better, and could only hope that he wouldn't freeze to death first.
All he had wanted to do for his loved ones was something that Jarod did all the time for complete strangers: keep a family together. And it wasn't as though he'd been acting on some sort of whim. He felt... No, he KNEW that it was what he was supposed to do. On one of those nights when she had come to him in his dreams, and held him like he'd always imagined a mother would, he had asked, "Why are you here?"
"Because we're family," she had replied with a luminescent smile. He hadn't understsood at the time but really hadn't cared much either. Thinking back on it later, he'd been even more confused. He knew precisely where he'd come from and, if anyone could be considered his mother, it was Margaret not Catherine. In fact the more he'd thought about it the less sense it made to him until this week when it all became absolutely clear. He was Jarod's family, Jarod was Michael's family, and Michael was Miranda's family. Well, that made Miranda HIS family too and even if Jarod was too pig-headed, or just plain weird, to keep her from leaving then HE sure as hell wasn't going to let it happen.
So he had told her everything, every single detail from every single dream about her mother. She'd started to cry, and cried even more when he said that Michael was a lucky kid and that he couldn't imagine anything more wonderful than having her as a mother. To lighten the mood a bit, he'd grinned impishly and remarked, "Well, maybe I can think of ONE thing." Miranda had laughed through tears and it was a shockingly beautiful sight. He'd been in the midst of asking her to reconsider leaving her son, and requesting that she not consign him to a life of only dreaming of her touch, when Jarod burst in and ruined everything.
"And THAT'S the gene pool I was fished out of," he grumbled.
* * * *
He paced to the window, glanced outside anxiously then turned around to gaze wistfully up the staircase. He paced across the room to where his son sat on the rug, heavily engrossed in a construction project with Lincoln Logs, and smiled down at him before turning around to repeat the entire process for about the thirtieth time.
"Jarod," the Major sighed, his ability to concentrate on the model C5 cargo plane he was building severely hampered by his son's incessant pacing.
"Sorry, Dad," he offered. "I'm doing it again, aren't I?"
"You never stopped."
Jarod finally did stop, rubbed his forehead and explained, "It's just that I've never raised my voice to him like that before. To her, yes, about a thousand times but she's... different."
"Clearly," Charles commented wryly, adding, "I wouldn't worry about James. He's out there walking, licking his wounds, and cursing the day you were born."
"Really?" Jarod asked, looking miserable.
"And I assure you that it's entirely normal. He's a teenager and he'll be back when he gets cold and hungry. You know, son, even in the best of families people have been known to occasionally raise their voices at one another. Just try to avoid making a habit of it."
"I guess you're right. I just don't know what got into me."
"Don't you?" his father asked knowingly.
Sighing Jarod replied, "Well, maybe I do, but I've probably managed to erase every trace of good will that existed between us. And after finally achieving status as a human being in her eyes. God, what an idiot I am."
"Funny you should say that," the Major remarked innocently as he resumed tinkering with the model. "Because she seems to blame herself for the whole thing."
"She does?"
"When I helped her upstairs, she essentially apologized for her presence here and suggested that the argument was the result of some sort of Parker curse."
"Oh she did, did she?" Jarod challenged then began pacing again and muttering, "She always does this, seizes upon any possible excuse to draw a line between us."
Shaking his head, the Major watched in disbelief until he'd finally had enough and blurted, "For crying out loud, son! Will you just go up there and talk to her already?"
"O... okay," Jarod responded looking slightly taken aback. With a smirk he added, "I guess you weren't kidding about family members raising their voices at one another."
"No," his father sighed. "I was not. But I'd appreciate it if you would refrain from compelling me to do it often."
* * * *
"Parker?" Jarod called into the semi-dark room as he spotted her lithe form beneath the covers. She didn't stir but he knew she wasn't sleeping.
"Miranda?" he called again and then, finally, "Andi?"
"What do you want?" she inquired flatly.
"I want to... to apologize for..."
"Behaving like a brute, a bully, a lunatic?"
"Well, yes... for a start," he replied with a smile as he approached the bed.
"You should be apologizing to James," she stated.
"I know, and I will, but right now I need to talk to you."
Bypassing the chair, he sat down on the edge of the bed beside her. Parker blinked at him in surprise and immediately propelled herself into a half-seated position. Without ceremony he reached for her right hand, pulled it to his mouth, turned it over, and pressed his lips to her palm. She flinched but did not pull away. Gazing into her eyes, he saw that they were wide and vulnerable. He lifted his lips from her hand but did not let it go as he spoke so softly that his voice was barely above a whisper.
"Emotions have been running fairly high around here the past couple of days, and I'm sorry I overreacted this morning. But on the way up here, I realized that's not what I was coming to say to you. I'm tired of playing stupid little games, so I'm going to stop and ask you to stay. Please stay, Andi. Please stay and help me raise our son."
# # # #
