Hell To Pay by Trish
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Chapter or Story
Disclaimer is that I don't own them but NBC and MTM does. PG-13
Hell To Pay
part I
by Trisha
As she towel-dryed her wet locks, Parker cursed when the shrill of the phone interrupted her train of thought, yet she was expecting his call. She always did after she returned home, empty handed, again.
"What?'" she was expecting his flippant remark, instead a mature voice responded with her own question.
"Is this Miss Parker?" the woman preceded to ask, unfazed.
"Yes," she waited, patience running thin. Was he up to something, by having a stranger call?
"Do you know Jarod. . .?"
"Jarod! What about Jarod? Where is he?"
"He gave your name and number in case of an emergency."
"Excuse me! What the hell is going on?" she was going to kill him when she got a hold of him, listing her, he had a lot of nerve.
"This is St. MIchael's Hospital, Miss Parker. Dectective... . ..
"Dectective? Jarod?" a slight laugh escaped her throat.
"Yes, Miss Parker, Jarod was rushed into surgery half an hour ago. He was shot in the line of duty, and I am sorry to have to tell you this but it doesn't look good. So, if you wish to see him, I'd advise you to . . . .the voice droned, but Parker had stopped listening, when she realized that her knees had buckled and she sank onto the bed, her hands trembling, trying to comprehend and find her voice. She never wished him dead, never. Him and his f****ing pretends.
"Miss Parker, are you still there?"
"Yes! I'm sorry. I'll be there, shortly. Here's my cell number," her voice cracked, "just in case." Hanging up the phone, images of every stupid stunt he ever pulled bombarded her. His dark eyes dancing merrily with delight at her frustration everytime she missed catching him. His infernal smirk, his feeding her bread crumbs regarding her past, with such patience that it drove her nuts. Sydney! Oh god! She had to call him. He'd never forgive her if she went alone and she didn't want to go alone. Picking up her phone again, she dialed.
"This is Sydney," the voice on the other end replied, as always.
"Syd!"
"Miss Parker. You've returned. Did you find. . . .?" he never got to finish.
"Syd, he was on one of his f***ing pretends, and, oh god, Syd, he's been shot. . he's critical. . . .in surgery. . .St. Michaels. They called me.He gave them my number and name. Why would he do that? Sydney. Why me?" she whispered, still confused at the emotions that she was feeling.
"Miss Parker, I'm on my way!" his hands shaking as he hung up the phone, please, oh please, he could not lose him. He loved him, and he needed to tell him.
Feedback please ! Ractrish@aol.com
part I
by Trisha
As she towel-dryed her wet locks, Parker cursed when the shrill of the phone interrupted her train of thought, yet she was expecting his call. She always did after she returned home, empty handed, again.
"What?'" she was expecting his flippant remark, instead a mature voice responded with her own question.
"Is this Miss Parker?" the woman preceded to ask, unfazed.
"Yes," she waited, patience running thin. Was he up to something, by having a stranger call?
"Do you know Jarod. . .?"
"Jarod! What about Jarod? Where is he?"
"He gave your name and number in case of an emergency."
"Excuse me! What the hell is going on?" she was going to kill him when she got a hold of him, listing her, he had a lot of nerve.
"This is St. MIchael's Hospital, Miss Parker. Dectective... . ..
"Dectective? Jarod?" a slight laugh escaped her throat.
"Yes, Miss Parker, Jarod was rushed into surgery half an hour ago. He was shot in the line of duty, and I am sorry to have to tell you this but it doesn't look good. So, if you wish to see him, I'd advise you to . . . .the voice droned, but Parker had stopped listening, when she realized that her knees had buckled and she sank onto the bed, her hands trembling, trying to comprehend and find her voice. She never wished him dead, never. Him and his f****ing pretends.
"Miss Parker, are you still there?"
"Yes! I'm sorry. I'll be there, shortly. Here's my cell number," her voice cracked, "just in case." Hanging up the phone, images of every stupid stunt he ever pulled bombarded her. His dark eyes dancing merrily with delight at her frustration everytime she missed catching him. His infernal smirk, his feeding her bread crumbs regarding her past, with such patience that it drove her nuts. Sydney! Oh god! She had to call him. He'd never forgive her if she went alone and she didn't want to go alone. Picking up her phone again, she dialed.
"This is Sydney," the voice on the other end replied, as always.
"Syd!"
"Miss Parker. You've returned. Did you find. . . .?" he never got to finish.
"Syd, he was on one of his f***ing pretends, and, oh god, Syd, he's been shot. . he's critical. . . .in surgery. . .St. Michaels. They called me.He gave them my number and name. Why would he do that? Sydney. Why me?" she whispered, still confused at the emotions that she was feeling.
"Miss Parker, I'm on my way!" his hands shaking as he hung up the phone, please, oh please, he could not lose him. He loved him, and he needed to tell him.
Feedback please ! Ractrish@aol.com
