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In Thine Enemy's House

Author: Trisha
Rating: PG-13, Adult situations
Category: Drama, Mild angst (J/MP)
Timeline: Post-"Donateresa"
Spoilers: Up to and including "Donateresa"
Summary: (Sequel to Whatever it Takes) When Miss Parker returns to the Centre she finds an old friend has joined the team in the search for Major Charles, the Clone, and Jarod but this woman may have something to hide.

Author's Notes: This is the sequel to Whatever it Takes.

Disclaimer I don't own them just want to play with them.


The secretary looked up from her desk, surprised to see a petite shoulder length black haired woman smiling down at her.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes. I'm looking for the administrator, Dr. Fisher. I have a meeting with him regarding a position on staff," the woman replied, still smiling.

"Dr. Fisher was called away on due to a family emergency but Dr. Locker is taking over his appointments. If you will just give a moment, I'll let him know that you are here. Your name, please."

"Dr. Tempest Sterling."

"Hello, Dr. Locker, Dr. Sterling is here. Yes of course. Right away."

"He said to go to his office. It's down the hall, third door on the left."

"Thank you!"

The woman quickly made her way to the office that the secretary had directed her to. She knocked on the door, opening the door when she heard a familiar voice bid her enter.

"Well?" she asked.

"She's all ready. I've erased all records of her stay here, nothing remains. I have it all here, everything that will be needed to show the others," the tall dark-haired man replied.

"What about the staff?"

"Not to worry. The nurse that looked after her decided to retire. Seems her inherited a small sum of money. Enough to disappear forever," he chuckled, "They'll never find her."

"So, where is she?"

"In here. Come on."

The two entered the small waiting room that was off the office and sitting in a wheelchair, staring out the window, sat an older woman, her red locks muted and tinged with gray, her skin still smooth and flawless, but devoid of any makeup, her peircing blue eyes oblivious of anything. Empty.

"My god! What have they done to her?" she asked.

"She drugged. It was the only way they could control her. Once out of here and into an environment that's safe, she'll start to respond, but I couldn't take her off all her medications."

The man approached the wheelchair bound woman and knelt down on his haunches, taking hold of her hand, he cups her face with his other hand and turns it to face his, a sad smile on his features.

"Would you like to see them again? I know one in particular that will be overjoyed to see you," his hand brushed a strand of stray hair out of her face. A flicker of knowing glimmered in her eyes as she looked a the young man.

"You got out?" she whispered, her fingers curling around his.

"Yes, I got out." he responded, caressing her cheek.

"Mmmmm . . .?" she stuttered.

"Hush, Catherine. It'll come back to you in time. Don't force it! It's time, Beth. Take her home."

"You forgot something, didn't you?'

"No, she's wearing it, see. He pushed the sleeve of the woman's blouse up and there on her thin wrist was a gold bracelet shaped like a scroll, inscribed with the following, Now I Conquer Everything Nothing Escapes.

"So, Jarod, when do we tell Parker and Wynne that their mother is alive?"


Morning came much too fast as far as she was concerned. She lay there in her bed and wondered why she left him, and about all the things they discovered and shared back at their sanctuary. Her train of thought then turned to the office, the bowels of hell, they would be lining up waiting for her. A long list of spiders. Mutumbo, Raines, Lyle, Brigette, and her father. Well let them, she pondered, the die is cast-I'm back and I will triumph. Smiling at the image of each spider and its web destroyed, Parker willed herself out of bed. She knew why she came back, she returned to finish what her mother started.

She strolled into the Centre and watched as all the eyes in the place turned, looked, and whispered. She fixed her best icy stare on all those there, and the whispering stopped. Reaching the elevator, she closed her eyes momentarily, then pushed the button, waiting. The doors opened and Parker stepped into the one place in the whole damn building she hated. The place where her mother died. Then like a miracle, the tiny elevator beheld a vision. Her mother's eyes. Loving eyes, smiling, full of joy and love. Parker reached her hand out, but the eyes faded. She stood in the elevator as still as a statue. The vision was gone, but she remembered. Remembered and captured a piece of her mother's remarkable spirit, one that would be a part of her forever.

She touched the bullet hole, one last time, and when the doors slide open, she strode toward her office ready to fulfill her destiny. Yes, she thought as she picked up the framed picture of her mother and her, 'I'm my mother's daughter. And I shall make her proud.' Looking out the window, she watched the sun play upon the water and hide between the clouds. Renewed, refreshed and ready to fight.

Moments later, the door to her office opened and her father, his wife and her brother entered with looks of worry, written upon their features. She turned on them, her eyes as cold as an ice storm. They were the angriest eyes they'd ever seen. The others had locked on her with contempt as well, that they didn't notice the other figure that entered the room. Parker did.

"Angel, how are you feeling?"

"Concern, Daddy. How sweet? Where was that fatherly concern when Lyle had me locked in the psycho ward at St. Catherine's? One visit, and then poof, gone. You and this thing you call your wife, just disappear," she hissed," And you, Lyle, be afraid, I still may go postal. So, are you still in charge?

"In charge! Parker, don't make me ill," the voice belonged to the figure that entered after the trio. The three cringed and turned to find the reason for the worried looks on their features in the first place.

"Hello, Wynne," Parker smiled, "So, what brought you here? Could it be the company?"

"Funny, Parker. I came for the ambience," she smiled back at the woman that stood behind the desk, but she also caught the look that passed across Mr. Parker's features, "I so love it here."

Parker had to stifle the laughter that was bubbling up in her, she forgot just how much fun Wynne could be. Almost like having a little sister, in fact that was what the relationship was like when she was in corporate. Once she was put in charge of the hunt for Jarod, she had little, if no time to spend with Wynne, maybe it could change, she thought, that is if Wynne wasn't completely enmeshed in Centre dogma.

"Oh, Lyle don't you have an assignment to complete, or did you find the boy and Major Charles already? And you," Wynne glared at the small blonde woman, who was tring to hide behind Mr. Parker," swim back up stream and spawn, like it told you, earlier."

That did it, Parker lost her self-control and the sound of laughter, escaped from her, uncontrolably.

"Angel, that's not very nice, to laugh at . . ." Mr. Parker stated, indignantly.

"Blow like the wind, Pops. I have business with Parker," Wynne returned the stare, and won the contest as Mr. Parker and Brigette left the room, followed by Lyle.

"God, I've missed you, Wynne," Parker started to come around the desk toward the petite woman.

"Sure you did," Wynne's green eyes narrowed, "Just what did you miss, me or my rapier wit?"

"Both, baby girl," Parker grinned, as she reached the woman and hugged her.

"I hate that name, and you know it," Wynne smiled, and returned the hug, before pulling away from her. Wynne eyed Parker critically, "You've changed."

Parker looked into the green eyes and saw something flicker in those eyes, something that said so have I.

"You said something about business," Parker changed the subject, this was not the safest place for some discussions,"Well?"

"New project, Parker. Lyle's in charge of tracking the boy and the clone. Should be interesting, watching him fail."

"Wynne, that's blasphemous, to speak about my poor brother like that," Parker chuckled, as she lowered herself into her chair and reached for the cup of coffee that sat on the desk," So, am I still in charge of catching Jarod?"

Wynne came around the chair, gripping one side of it tightly and whispered into Parker' s ear, while her hand hooked the gold chain that was laying around Parker's neck. Parker nearly choked on the cup of coffee she had brought to her lips.

"Problem?" Wynne asked, nonchalantly.

"It's cold!" Parker replied, as she composed herself and smiled.

"So, how about lunch?"

The door to the office opened and Sydney and Broots entered the room, standing there watching the two women sipping coffee and laughing.

"Doesn't anybody knock! Last time I looked it was still my office," Parker barked, when she caught sight of them.

"I asked them here, Parker. Don't bite?"

"We're use to it Wynne . . ." Broots stammered, and looked to the floor when Parker cast him a rather dubious look.

"How's Debbie?" Wynne asked the computer tech, enjoying the animated look that invavded his features.

"She's good. First day of school's tomorrow. She's a little nervous."

"She'll do fine," Wynne watched the questioning expression on Parker's face with one of amusement, " Did you find what I asked you too?"

Broots nodded and handed the file that he had a death grip on for the last ten minutes, uncertain of the reception it would receive.

"It's coded. I can't break it. I've tried, but I must be missing the key," he said, softly.

"Slipping up, are we, Broots," Parker zinged.

"Stop it, Parker! He wouldn't have the code anyway. It's an old file."

"Very old," Sydney said, joining the group disscussion, "It's one of your mother's, Miss Parker."

Her hand was out and reaching for the file before anyone could stop her. Flipping the blue folder open, she shuffled through the papers, stymied, for she thought that all her mother's files where at the house. Did she miss one, Parker wondered. Did this have anything to do with PROJECT PROGENY.

"Any ideas what it's about?"

"Yes," Wynne replied, a look of disgust on her face.


Wynne shook her head and smiled slyly. Parker understood the meaning, not here, not now. Later.

Wynne excused herself from the jovial group, but not before extracting a promise that the five of them, Debbie included, met for dinner later that night at Justine's around 6:30.

Wynne, entered her office, flung herself in her chair, when a sharp beeping from her computer on the desk informed her of an incoming mail. Intrigued, Wynne punched the mailbox icon. Then froze.

The message was coded-and what would open it was the numbers CJ-103-413, it was the number on the file that Broots had just given to her. And. . .it was signed by a name she had every reason to trust.

She knew about this person for what seemed forever, had been watching, even met this person, a few times. She appreciated the tenacity of this person. Wynne rapidly set about decoding the message.

"Fascinating," she murmured after a moment.

A more accurate word might have been "astonishing."

"We found what was supposedly hidden well," the message began-meaning, of course, the sons-of-bitches lied , "safely away, responding nicely. Those in charge not to be trusted, the top will crumble and fall." This meant it was time for Wynne to act. There was one last message, which had Wynne arch an eyebrow. " The other must be brought forth, out of the dark and into the light."

Glancing at her watch, she wondered if she had time to make a little visit before she joined Parker for lunch. A sudden noise of metal grating on metal, interrupted her thoughts. Wynne looked up to find Angelo staring at her from the air vent. "Angel fly away?"

"Yes, Angelo. Our little Angel is going to fly away," she smiled, "You go make sure that I can get in to see her. Can you do that for me?"

"See Angel," the savant murmured, then held out his hand, which held a silver disc, "Daughter need to see. Friend saw. Friend angry."

"I know Angelo, so am I. Very angry. Daughter will be angry, too," Wynne accepted the disc and slipped it in her blazer pocket. With that done, the savant turned and crawled back up the vent. Before Wynne left the office, she placed a rather cryptic call on her cell phone, then headed for Sydney's office.

She found Syndey and Broots in some type of discussion regarding the search for Jarod. Smiling to herself, she entered the room and the conversation stopped dead in its tracks.

"Wynne," Sydney spoke, "Can we help you?"

"Where's Parker?"

"With her father and the rest of the ghouls," Broots said, looking out the open door.

"Good. I need a favor. Broots run this through the Centre's database and see what you fine," she handed him a set of numbers," Now, Broots!"

The techie scurried out of the room and headed to the computer terminal that he needed to use so that the Centre didn't realize that its security was about to be breached.

"Syd," Wynne's voice was low, "I need you to do something for me."

He looked up from his desk and waited for the other shoe to drop. People always ended up either dead or missing whenever Wynne was involved and he had a deep sense of foreboding.

Slipping her hand in her blazer pocket, she pulled out the disc and leaned forward on the desk, depositing the disc on top of the papers that Sydney was busy reading. A slight shake of her head, warned him not to say anything. Turning, she began to leave the office, but stopped in the doorway.

"Tell Broots to give the information to Parker, after." He watched the petite figure walk away, then he gingerly picked up the disc, inserted it in the reader and watched. A look of shock, horror and repulsion was on his features when Miss Parker entered the room, upon return from her meeting with her father.


"Miss Parker," he got out of his chair and gestured for her to take a seat. Settling herself, Parker was suddenly filled with a sense of déjà vu. He reprogrammed the screen to read the disc and then excused himself from the office. He didn't want to be there while she watched. He encountered Broots returning from his errand that Wynne had sent him on.

"Give it to Miss Parker, then leave. Don't speak to her? Don't say anything? Just leave the information," he said softly. "What's going on Syd?"

"Justice," he told Broots as calmly as possible.

"Justice?" Broots questioned him.

"Wynne was just the messenger, she's been waiting patiently for the right time."

"Right time for what?"

"Let's just say, The truth will sent you free."

Broots looked at Sydney quizzically.


Parker looked at the screen, intently, trying to fathom the depth of deceit the Centre actually was capable of sinking too. She caught sight of her reflection on the darkened computer screen. She had paled visible, and her eyes flashed: she looked as though she could kill someone.

Anger was an understatement.

So, for that matter, were all the other emotions that swirled in her brain. Parker sat motionless, willing herself to take slow regular breaths . . . think of nothing but breathing . . . slow . . . calming breaths . . . calming . . . calm . . . . Parker removed the disc, slipping it in the folder that Broots had hurriedly delivered a few moments after the disc stopped; then he scurried out of the office like a scared mouse before she could speak. It was just as well, considering the mood she was in.

The images were burned into her brain, no more like seared, she had to control herself from shaking. Picking up the file with unsteady hands, she perused through the papers, everything from birth certificate, adoption records, intelligent tests, and the piece de resistance, the damn recording of her sister's birth-eight months after her mother's supposed death. Wynne was her sister. She wasn't sure if she should be angry with Wynne, her father or just everyone in general. Logically, she knew that being angry at Wynne was next to impossible, after all it was Wynne that brought this little secret to light. As for being angry with her father, she'd been angry with him almost all of her life, why should this revelation be any different.

"Miss Parker," the voice was that of Sydney's, "Are you all right?"

"Just peachy," she snapped," I just found out that my mother didn't die, at least she was still alive as of December 1970, when she gave birth to my half-sister. My father let his own flesh and blood be adopted, then stolen back by the Centre, trained by Raines and neglected to tell me. Almost as bad as when Raines stole my brother, all in the name of Centre business. So, do you want to ask me, again, if I'm all right? Where is my baby sister?" she looked at the good doctor.

Sydney reached over and handed Parker the note that had been under the disc when Wynne left it on his desk, earlier.

Unfolding the piece of paper, Parker scanned the contents, then looked up at Syd. "Did you read this?"

"Is my name on the front?"

"No. If I'm not mistaken that's my name," she smiled.

"My, aren't we perceptive?"

"Are you interested in the contents?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Willing to share, Miss Parker."

"Funny, Syd. Look, I need to meet Wynne and you need to cover for me," she leaned across the desk, her fingers steeple under her chin.


"Later, Sydney," she rose from the chair and headed for the door, turning around before she left,"If you hear from our favorite pretender, tell him . . ."

"Tell him what?" inquired Lyle, from behind Parker.

"That one of this days, he'll see the light," she smirked, "Now if you will excuse me, I have a lunch date."

"Who's the newest conquest?" Lyle sneered.

"Me," a voice piped up from behind Lyle.

"Wynne, I was just on my way to meet you, that is until Lyle here, detained me," Parker smirked.

"I thought I told you to find the boy and major for me. Did you accomplish that already?"

"Nnnnnno," Lyle stammered as Wynne pat his cheek in a patronizing matter causing Miss Parker to snicker, which in turn caused Lyle to glare at her.

"Run along and track down the boy and major, Lyle," Wynne whispered in his ear, "or else."

The threat was not lost on Lyle, who scurried out of Wynne's sight, afraid of just what the consequences could be.

"We need to talk?" Parker hissed under her breath, turning a cool gaze on Wynne.

"I know, not here. It isn't safe." Wynne looked into unreadable blue eyes. She gestured toward the elevator and both casually walked to the metal doors.

It was Parker, who pushed the button, then grimaced slightly when the doors opened. The two stepped in to the small box and then Parker whipped her head around to look Wynne in the eyes. "How long?"

"Have I known," Wynne answered barely audible, a sly smile playing on her lips, "How long have you been away with our favorite boy genius?"

Shock crossed Parker's features, and she sagged against the elevator wall.

"You know about . . ." she murmured.

"Why do you think he called you?" Wynne's green eyes narrowed.

Parker watched Wynne nod, and as she did her hand moved to the gold chain that hung around her neck, revealing a tiny golden scroll necklace, similar to the one Parker had received from Jarod.

"There were four of these," Wynne whispered, as the light from the elevator played on the tiny necklace, "Jarod and I added a fifth."


"Patience, Parker."

With that said the elevator came to halt and the doors slid open, yet it was not the lobby of the Centre that they had arrived on. Instead it was level that Parker was unfamiliar with.

"Come on, there's someone you need to meet?" Wynne took hold of Parker's hand.

It was at the moment that a dark silhouette of a figure emerged from the shadows.

"Safe to see Angel." Angelo muttered, then looked into Miss Parker's eyes, "Needs mother, too."

"What's he talking about Wynne," she looked at the young woman.

"This way, Parker," Wynne made her way down the darkened corridor, and stopped in front of a metal door, punching a security code into the electronic lock, the clicking of the latch releasing echoed loudly, that Parker turned to see if anyone would come running.

Pushing the door open, Wynne entered the dimly light room, surveying the contents, her eyes fell upon a lone figure, huddled on a small cot in the corner of the room.

"Hello, young Angelo," she whispered, "are you ready to fly away? I know someone that wants to see you again. He misses you."

The figure scrambled off the bed and stared at the woman.

"Gem," she whispered, then an audible gasp was heard from behind.

"Oh, my God!" Parker stammered and stared opened mouthed, "It's me."

To Be Continued . . .


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