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Playing Doctor
Author: Mme Fleiss
Rating: R, Adult situations, Adult situations, Mild Language
Category: Romance, Drama, Angst (J/MP)
Timeline: Mid-season three
Spoilers: None
Summary: Ms. Parker is at home sick, so Jarod decides to help her out, with a little TLC.
Disclaimer: The characters of this story belong to "The Pretender," a protected trademark of MTM Television and NBC. They have been used without permission for the purpose of fan fiction and not for any type of compensation. The events are my invention and any resemblance to real events are purely coincidental.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~Communication
Communication is the key to a successful relationship.
Don't try to hide your feelings; express yourself. Be clear
In what you want so that there would be no misunderstandings
later on.
- Mark Stevens, The Dummy's Guide to Dating
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ms. Parker lied down on her bed, swearing never to move again. Her back hurt, her throat hurt, even frowning as the shrill sound of her cell phone ringing echoed around her room hurt.
She swore she wasn't going to pick it up; whoever was on the other end could just go and wait until she felt better. Too bad she hadn't expected whomever it was to be so tenacious. Five minutes after she'd given up on trying to block the sound by covering her ears with her pillow, she grabbed it from the night stand and growled, "This better be good!"
"Nice to hear from you, too," Jarod answered dryly from the other end of the line. "What's the matter? The stress of the job finally getting to you? You can always give up."
"Don't you have other people to annoy?" she asked hoarsely, a small groan escaping from her lips as their conversation begun to take its toll on her already sore throat.
The condescending tone from earlier was quickly replaced with concern. "Are you all right?"
"Just peachy." Her answer was quickly followed by a sneeze. "My temperature is a hundred and one-" She looked at her thermometer and shook her head. "Make that a hundred and two, and I can't get any rest with people calling and annoying me all the time."
He ignored her snide comment and said, "You should be at the hospital."
Don't be stupid," she wheezed, momentarily taking the phone away from her face so that she could sneeze again. "I'll be fine."
He sounded unconvinced. "You don't sound fine."
"I will be if you leave me alone!" she snapped. "Go bother Syd for the rest of the week." She then hung up on him before he could say another word.
*****
Jarod frowned as he placed the phone back in its cradle. Ms. Parker hadn't sounded well at all. He looked around his apartment for his latest pretend, his jaw clenching as his mind warred with his heart. Intellectually, he knew that he'd do more good helping the people of Manchester find the saboteur of the fourth of July parade, but his heart told him that taking care of his childhood friend was more important.
He absentmindedly pushed the open Jack-in-the-box beside his laptop, oblivious to the feel of it bumping against his thigh as he mulled over his latest quandary. There really wasn't a contest on which desire would win, but it made him feel somewhat better to know that he'd at least thought it over. He knew that if Sydney had been with him, the older man would have admonished him for wasting time; but he wasn't, and Jarod took his sweet time looking absently into space before packing his stuff.
He collected all the evidence he'd gathered so far and placed them in an envelope with the intent of dropping it at the PD on his way out of town.
He then scanned the newspaper for a situation that ended well and placed it in his red notebook. Hopefully, It would take Sydney awhile to realize that he wasn't involved with the recent capture of a cat burglar and thus give him more time with Ms. Parker.
Last but not least, he dropped some false hints for his next destination--the fake information on his latest pretend could only
last so long--and dialed the Centre's number on his way out the door. He knew it would only take a minute before they traced his location.
*****
Sydney picked up his phone after the second ring. "Hello?" Hearing nothing on the other end, he began to worry. "Jarod, is that you?"
Broots looked up from his computer at the sound of the Pretender's name. He begun to run a trace on the call, knowing that his chances of finding Jarod's location in this manner was slim to none.
Sydney begun to pace up and down the office, his tailored suit somehow managing to keep it's straight, crisp lines despite all his movements. "Jarod?"
Broots watched his usually calm and collected co-worker with undisguised fascination; it was rare that the man let anything past
his usually cool exterior. Only the sounds of his computer beeping as it traced the location brought his eyes away from the agitated man. "Uh, Sydney?"
"Yes, Mr. Broots?" he asked, the phone still held against his ear as he waited for whoever was on the other line to say something.
"I traced the call to an apartment in Manchester, Connecticut. It's Jarod."
*****
It was dusk by the time Jarod reached Ms. Parker's cabin, with the sky An ominous dark gray from the incoming storm. He couldn't help but smile as a sudden hot summer breeze caressed his skin, bringing forth a promise of warm days made for drinking cool, tall glasses of lemonade instead of the cold and rainy weather that had shrouded the sun for the last couple of days.
He looked around to make sure she didn't have any visitors. Seeing only her car in the garage, he proceeded to stealthily make his way inside the house. As he opened the backdoor, he was greeted by a deafening silence, and he guessed that Ms. Parker was upstairs sleeping in her room. It was just as well; he had a couple of things to take care of before he could safely make his presence known.
*****
Sydney walked into Jarod's last lair and wasn't surprised by the mess he found. Pez dispensers and empty packages of cookies laid side by side with copies of Faulkner's works. He was about to pick up the book Light in August when he heard Broots call out, "Hey, Sydney, check this out."
He walked over to find Broots pointing at a slip of paper with the name Dr. James H. Meredith scribbled hastily on it.
"You don't think Jarod's hurt, do you?" Broots asked. Even he couldn't stop himself from worrying at this point. What could Jarod possibly want with a doctor unless he's seriously hurt?
"I don't know." Sydney picked the paper and handed it to the younger man. "I don't see blood or medication anywhere to support that, but just to be safe, find out everything you can about this Dr. Meredith."
Broots nodded and headed for his laptop. Sydney watched him for a moment before putting his attention back into searching for more clues in the stark, white room.
*****
Having made sure that the phones in the house were down and that the weapons scattered throughout the house were unloaded, Jarod decided that it was now safe to approach Ms. Parker.
He sneaked up to her room. He'd already committed to memory which door was hers so there was no awkward moment wasted with him trying to figure out which one it was.
Jarod walked in and found her on the bed, her face flushed from her fever. Her dark her was in a disarray from hours spent lying down and she was bundled up with more layers than an Eskimo, but she was still the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen.
He could still clearly remember the moment he'd first noticed her as a woman instead of simply the girl he'd played with as a child. He'd been seventeen then, and was following Sydney back to his room. From the amount of activity, he'd guessed that it'd been early, but having spent most of his life underground without sunlight or a watch to inform him of the time, it made no difference to him and he was ready to get some much needed rest.
Jarod had just stepped into the elevator when he noticed a young woman around his age standing inside one of the labs at the end of the hall. His first thoughts were that she was pretty with her long, auburn hair and piercing sapphire eyes. She was bending over to pick something from the ground and he felt an unfamiliar sensation within him stir at the sight of her long, bare legs.
He must have made too much noise because she turned around and looked directly at him. He couldn't breath. He felt his knees go weak, and he had to grab onto the door to keep himself upright.
Sydney noticed the sudden change in his Pretender's behavior and frowned as he noticed Jarod's source of distraction. He grabbed the boy's shoulders tightly and brought him closer so that the elevator door would finally close.
Jarod's instinctively struggled as he felt the psychiatrist's hands on him. He didn't want to lose sight of her, knowing that he might never see her again. He wanted to imprint her image in his mind so that he could convince himself later on that she was more than a figment of his imagination. Unfortunately for him, Sydney was stronger, and he was able to drag the pretender from the door with little effort.
"Jarod, don't be foolish," he admonished. "Those kind of thoughts only lead to distraction and failure. That's why Pretenders are unable to fall in love."
Jarod came back to the present in a snap as the sounds of the bedclothes rustling alerted him that Ms. Parker was waking up. He touched her forehead and almost yelped at the amount of heat he felt there; he ran to the bathroom to get her a piece of wet cloth to help cool her down.
He saw her eyes flutter as he placed the washcloth on her forehead and felt his heart beat a little faster at the sight of the trusting
look on her face. It was at times like these that he found himself silently asking Sydney the question that plagued him for years. Aren't able or aren't allowed to fall in love? As always there was no answer.
~~~~~
~The Element of Surprise
There's no better way to spice up a flagging relationship than adding in the element of surprise. Got an idea to show up at her
workplace unexpectedly so you can spend her lunch break together? Don't hesitate! women love surprises. It's little things
like these that makes you in her eyes a stud instead of a dud.
- Martin Walker, Dating in the Real World
~~~~~
Ms. Parker felt woozy as she opened her eyes. The last time she felt this bad, she'd drunk Robby "the bottomless pit" Robinson under the table at a fraternity party. She groaned and tried to sit up, but found herself being held down by the blurry figure sitting by her hip.
"Don't get up. You'll only feel worse," a disembodied voice ordered. She looked around to see who it was, but since all she could see was the blurry figure on her bed, she guessed it was him. She was about to close her eyes again when her brain demanded to know why a man was in her house.
That last thought was like a splash of cold water. Ms. Parker snapped out of her sleepy haze and turned around to find Jarod looking down at her. "Nice to see you finally join the land of the living."
*****
Sydney could hear clearly hear the sounds of computer keys tapping as Broots worked across the room. He'd just found the red notebook with details on Jarod's last pretend and was on his way out the door to ask the people involved some questions.
"Find anything?" he inquired before heading out. He really hoped that the younger man did since he wasn't looking forward to questioning strangers; terrorizing witnesses was more Ms. Parker's thing.
"Uh, well, I hacked into the American Medical Association website to find members with the name James H. Meredith. Two match that description, a podiatrist in Iowa and an optometrist in Florida. So I, uh, guess that whatever reason he wrote those names down for, it couldn't have been because he was seriously injured."
Sydney let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "That's good. Anything else?"
Broots let out a weary sigh and briefly closed his eyes to give it a respite from the bright glare of the computer screen. "I'm currently combing through all the data base from those two states to find a match. It's a lot, so it might take a while."
Sydney gave him a reassuring pat on the back before heading back out The door. "I'm sure you'll find him."
*****
Ms. Parker's hand shot towards the nightstand and her 9-mm-only to find that it wasn't there. She glared at her surprise visitor. "What did you do with my gun?"
Jarod's amber eyes widened in an effort to look innocent. "I removed them to make sure nobody gets hurt. I didn't think you'd mind."
"Well I do," she snapped as she tried to get up and get another one of the guns she'd hidden throughout her house.
His grip on her arm was surprisingly strong as he held her down. "Don't. You're still too sick to get up."
"Don't tell me what to do," she answered stubbornly, shaking off his hands before taking a second try at getting up. She failed miserably. She looked back up and glared at Jarod. At least he didn't tell her "I told you so."
"I told you so," he said, a mischievous smile on his face.
Ms. Parker wanted to smack him but didn't have the strength, so instead, she leaned back into her pillow and asked, "What are you doing here?"
"I thought we'd play doctor again."
The words "playing doctor" invariably brought to her mind the phrase, "show me yours and I'll show you mine," but by the innocent look on his face, she doubted very much that it was what he meant. She was about to tease him for his choice of words when her brain caught on to the full extent of what he'd said. "We never played doctor!" She would have remembered something like that.
"Yeah, we did. Don't you remember? We played it when we were ten after Sydney made me do a SIM as an ER doctor. I gave you a fake examination, made a diagnosis, and everything."
"Oh that," Ms. Parker answered, sounding quite relieved. "Now I remember. I didn't have the heart to tell you that you were doing it wrong."
"Then how else do you play doctor?"
It was her turn to have a mischievous smile on her face as she said, "That's for me to know and for you never to find out."
*****
"Jarod?" the young woman that lived in the house where the attempted burglary occurred asked with a puzzled frown. "Who's that?"
"You mean you've never seen this man before?" Sydney asked, bringing the picture he always carried around of the Pretender closer to the woman's face.
She took another look and shook her head. "Nope. Never seen him before in my life."
Sydney frowned, wondering what was going on. The people Jarod helped had always remembered him quite clearly before. He couldn't understand what brought on this sudden change. "Thank you for your help."
*****
Ms. Parker waited until Jarod excused himself to go to the bathroom to use her phone. Having known Jarod for so long, she wasn't surprised to find her cell phone gone and the rest of the phones out of order; nonetheless, it still pissed her off to no end.
The minute he got back to her room, she angrily began to shake the now useless piece of plastic at him as she demanded, "Jarod, what did you do to them?"
Jarod wasn't taken aback that she'd tried to turn him over to the Centre while he was at the john. He'd anticipated it and it was the reason he'd disabled her phones in the first place. "I can't exactly take care of you if I'm behind Centre walls, now can I?"
"You plan on staying?" To say that she was surprised by this little bit of information would be an understatement. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out why he'd want to help her after all the trouble she'd caused him over the years. "When did you plan on sharing this with me?"
"Surprise!" he mumbled dispassionately, his expression making it clear that he hadn't planned on revealing that piece of information in this manner.
Good, she thought. Served him right for coming without asking her permission. "I hate surprises," she grumbled, burrowing further into the sheets. "So how long do you plan on staying?"
"Until you're well enough to be on your own."
That raised Ms. Parker's suspicion. Both of them knew damn well that she'd be a lot more determined to catch him once she got her strength back. He wasn't stupid, so how could he possibly plan on escaping unscathed? "You have something up your sleeve, don't you?"
Jarod smirked at her as he parroted her earlier answer. "That's for me to know and for you never to find out."
*****
Broots heard his computer beep as it finished searching the Florida and Iowa archives for anything related to Jarod. Fourteen names came up on his screen, all blinking as they waited for his cursor to click on one of them.
Being a computer programmer, he had learned early on the advantages of being methodical. It therefore came as no surprise when he predictably made his way one by one down the screen, his frown increasing as none of his preliminary searches matched Jarod's description.
Broots then decided to go back to the name Dr. James H. Meredith; just because he had the title of a doctor preceding his name didn't necessarily mean that he was a medical doctor. Broots widened his search for the elusive man and watched with a small smile as his computer beeped and began a nationwide search of this one man.
*****
"Jarod?" Chief of Police Geraldine Summers asked. "Why of course I remember him. He was helping me with the fourth of July sabotage case."
"Are you sure?"
She looked at him strangely. "I may be old, but my memory's still working, you know."
"Oh, I didn't mean it like that. It just that I heard he was working on the recent burglaries."
"Oh no. That's Joe's-" she pointed at the younger man sitting across the room, "-job. We thought it was too high-profile a case for a rookie to work on."
"Any ideas on where Jarod had gone?"
"He mumbled something about his mother being sick and having to rush home while he dropped off the evidence he had on him." The chief sat up straighter and leaned in closer to Sydney. "He's not in any trouble, is he?"
"No, nothing like that. I just wanted to talk to him before he. . . saw his mother." Sydney stood up and bid her farewell. He almost bumped into a number of things as he made his way out of the small but clean precinct, his mind occupied with this latest tidbit of information.
If Chief Summers was telling the truth-and he had no doubt that she was since there was no reason for her not to-then something important from Jarod's past must have resurfaced. It was the only explanation he could think of for the younger man to stop in the middle of a pretend. But what could be so important?
~~~~~
~Be A Gentleman
There's nothing a woman hates more than a pushy man. Don't force yourself on her; If you find yourself getting turned on, think about something else. The need for release can always be taken care of later on in a strip bar or a really good XXX movie.
- Paul Reubens, Pee-Wee's Adult Playhouse
~~~~~
Jarod hummed as he spooned off a bowl of chicken soup he'd made specifically for Ms. Parker. He wasn't quite sure how exactly it would help her with her fever, but then he vaguely remember hearing somewhere the phrase "catch a cold, feed a fever" and it must have worked if. . . No, wait, that didn't sound right. He frowned, trying to remember what exactly he'd overheard at a diner once. Maybe it was "feed a cold, starve a fever. . ."
A loud thump from Ms. Parker's bedroom brought him out of his ruminations and sent him running up the stairs. He opened her door and found her looking sheepishly at a lamp she'd knocked over. Wearing only her underwear.
"I was hot," was her explanation at her state of undress before she shamelessly plopped down on the bed.
Jarod quickly redirected his eyes towards the painting in the corner, his face turning the same shade as her feverish body. It took minutes of thinking up the unsexiest thoughts he could come up with-a disaster area, a landfill, Richard Simmons in spandex-before he could look in her general direction again and hand her the bowl of soup.
"I. . . I, uh, made you something." Jarod could see her smile at his obvious discomfort. He silently cursed, hating the way she managed to stay in control when they were near while it took all his effort not to sound like a blubbering idiot. "I'll go and let you eat in peace."
He slammed the door behind him before she could respond. He went down the stairs, taking two steps at a time and let out a sigh of relief as he sat down on one of the living room's overstuffed white chairs.
Jarod let out a groan as the half-naked image of her floated in his mind. It seemed that with her far away, his brain didn't think it
practical to waste more of it's energy trying not to think of her.
"Think of Richard Simmons in spandex," he whispered to himself, his voice tinged with hysteria. There was no way his plan was going to work if he couldn't control himself.
In his effort to divert his attention, Jarod's eyes landed on a picture of Ms. Parker on the mantle, bringing forth another vision of
her on the bed, half-naked, with an inviting smile on her lips. His voice grew increasingly desperate as he continued to chant, "Think of Richard Simmons in spandex!"
*****
Jarod was right about Ms. Parker being on the bed, but she was nowhere near as underdressed as he'd thought. Not long after Jarod left her room, she felt the earlier chill returning and she covered herself with as many sheets she could find. She'd done such a good job covering herself up that she couldn't untangle herself from them.
"Shit," she muttered, pulling one of the sheets away from her body in hopes of getting it off her but instead tightening its hold around her body. She knew, of course, that this latest dilemma could easily be solved if she asked Jarod to come up and help, but she refused to do it. She'd done just fine on her own so far; besides, she'd never live it down.
Ms. Parker took a hold of another sheet and tugged with all her might, a surprised shriek escaping her throat as it sent her rolling on the bed and down into the hard wooden floor.
*****
Jarod had been in the throes of a rather vivid dream involving--strangely enough--Richard Simmons when he heard a loud noise reverberate from upstairs.
It took him a couple of seconds to get his bearings and to remember why he'd been dreaming about a fitness guru, but when he did, he ran upstairs in a speed that would make Carl Lewis green with envy.
He was panting heavily by the time he'd reached her door, his concerned expression quickly turning to one of amusement as saw Ms. Parker sprawled awkwardly on the wooden floor.
Jarod tried to hide his smile as he walked up to her and held out his hand. "Need any help?"
"No. I'm fine."
He watched her struggle to get up for a couple more seconds before asking, "Are you sure?"
Ms. Parker gave him a cutting look as she exasperatedly yelled out, "Yes!" Her annoyed countenance quickly turned smug as she shakily managed to get up to a squatting position. "See," she said as she tried to straighten up. "I told you I could do it on my. . ." her voice trailed off as the sheet that she'd been standing on was jerked away from her feet.
She let out a surprised yelp and instinctively grabbed on to one of Jarod's sleeves. Unfortunately, her nearness had brought back his earlier thoughts of Ms. Parker smiling at him invitingly. He was therefore unprepared for the extra weight he suddenly carried, sending them both hurtling down on the floor with a loud thunk.
His first thought was that it never looked like it hurt this much when it happened in the movies. He grimaced as he felt Ms. Parker's long nails dig into his arms and he slowly looked down to find her glaring at him.
"Are you planning on moving anytime today?"
Jarod gave her a sheepish smile before quickly getting up, taking back his proffered hand when she directed at him another icy glare.
He felt horrible as he watched Ms. Parker hide a wince while she tried to stand up. She didn't even comment when he fluffed up her pillow before helping her lie down, lending credence to his theory that she was hurt a lot more than she let on.
"Is there anything I can get you? More soup? Some aspirin?"
Ms. Parker tilted her head up to look at him and instantly regretted it. Jarod was tucking the comforter under the bed, his hard muscles flexing under his shirt as he lifted the combined weight of the mattress and her body.
Without thinking, she reached over to stroke his biceps, noting the deep brown shade from hours in the sun. She traced a vein all the way down to his wrist and looked back up when he took a hold of her hand to stop it from moving any further.
"What are you doing?" he asked hoarsely, his tongue flicking out to nervously wet his lips.
She fought back the urge to follow the wet trail he left behind with her thumb, all the while asking herself the same question.
She must be sicker than she thought.
Ms. Parker suppressed a shiver of excitement that resulted from the hunger that she could clearly see in his eyes. It took all her effort to turn her head away from him, not wanting to acknowledge the similar look that reflected back at her from its smoky, brown depth. "I--I think you should leave."
*****
"Oxford, Mississippi," Broots stated when Sydney walked into Jarod's last known lair.
"Excuse me?"
"Jarod is in Oxford, Mississippi," the younger man repeated as he excitedly pointed at his computer screen. "Dr. James H. Meredith was famous for being the first African-American student at the University of Mississippi which is located in Oxford."
"Brilliant, Mr. Broots," Sydney answered distractedly. He suspected that this was another ruse that Jarod made up in an effort to keep them away, but for the life of him still couldn't figure out the Pretender's motive. He did trust the younger man's judgment, however, and decided to go along with it for now. "You can make the reservations while I inform the Centre of our next destination."
*****
Jarod stood outside her door, his heart pounding and his mind moving a mile a minute as he tried to understand the latest turn of events.
What had happened in there? He had been tucking her in, his mind finally free of the seductive image of Ms. Parker that he'd carried all day when he felt her hand caress his arm, sending all his blood to rush south as his head filled with even more enticing images of her.
It took all his will power not to lift the hand he held up to his mouth for a kiss, knowing that he wouldn't be able to stop just
there and would continue on her arm, up to her neck, and then her lips.
Jarod realized that he was painfully gripping the knob of Ms. Parker's bedroom door and quickly let go before making his way
downstairs.
He had to stop thinking about this; otherwise, he'd have the dubious honor of being the first person to die from sexual frustration.
Jarod headed to the kitchen and tried to distract himself with making preparations for tomorrows breakfast. He almost cried out when he noticed the number of things in it that reminded him of her: from the mug she always used to drink coffee in the morning, the stacks of yogurt in her fridge that he knew she liked to eat for breakfast, and even the potholder with her surname embroidered on it that Debbie had made for her in home EC.
He found her milk carton empty, and though his mind supplied him with hundreds of dishes he could make in the morning without it, he decided to take the opportunity to get out of the house for awhile and hopefully clear his head from the dangerous thoughts it insisted on heading towards.
*****
The supermarket was surprisingly crowded for nine in the evening. It had taken him forever to get out of there with his single purchase, no thanks to the middle-aged woman in front of him who insisted on paying with a credit card on a cash only line.
Jarod was on his way to the parking lot when the window display of a nearby bookstore caught his eye'.
A picture of a local author, Mark Stevens, stood in the middle, surrounded by his latest book, The Dummy's Guide to Dating, and garish Christmas lights that bathed passing pedestrians in clashing multi-colored lights.
Jarod stopped in his tracks, oblivious to the moisture dripping down his skintight black shirt from the condensing milk carton.
A guide to dating, huh? If anyone needed it, it would be him. His years of living in practical isolation had left him clueless when it
came to women and dating. It didn't help that the woman he wanted would probably just as soon see him dead.
Sydney's statement from years before that Pretender's weren't able to fall in love replayed in his head over and over again like a broken record player stuck on the same groove. It almost made him keep on walking to his Lexus, but the promise the book held of a more intimate future with his childhood friend kept him still.
Jarod stood there for a couple of minutes, wracked with indecision. He noticed the appreciative glances from remaining clerk closing the store for the night, and it gave him the boost of confidence he needed to sheepishly tap on the front window.
"I'm really sorry about this," he apologized as she let him in. "The window display caught my attention."
"You're having dating troubles?" she asked incredulously. "You?"
Jarod blushed and headed straight to the self-help section, picking one of each book at the shelf labeled sex and relationships. "I don't have a lot of experience when it comes to women."
The look she gave him clearly stated that she'd be happy to help him with that, but he already felt bad for leading her on this far and so quickly paid for his purchases and left without another word.
*****
Ms. Parker's house was dark and silent when Jarod got back. He opened his trunk and guiltily looked at his extra purchases.
He silently reminded himself that there was nothing wrong with buying guides to dating women. It was a booming market; millions of other men had done the same.
So how come he felt like a thirteen-year-old boy trying to sneak a Playboy up to his room?
~~~~~
~Five Ways To Say I Love You
1) Give her flowers and chocolates when there's no special occasion
2) Give her an erotic back massage
3) Write her a love poem
4) Make her breakfast in bed
5) Put down the toilet seat after you're done using it
-Donna Banks, How to Woo Your Mate
~~~~~
Jarod frowned as he reread the last passage. He really didn't understand number five, but he was pretty sure that he could do the rest (though probably not number two. Ms. Parker would kill him for even thinking of it).
He grabbed another book and read a random advice aloud to reassure himself that he wasn't about to make an ass of himself. "Show a lot of leg. Your date is sure to appreciate it." He smiled with satisfaction as he looked down at his skimpiest pair of black silk boxer shorts and mentally crossed that one off his list.
Now all he needed was some mood music; the dating books had repeatedly stressed its importance. Jarod walked over to Ms. Parker's entertainment center and rifled through her stack of CDs. He didn't recognize any of the artists, but he figured the band called Nine Inch Nails was the one most likely to have romantic songs; after all, with a song title like "Closer to God," how far off the mark could he be?
*****
"I'll be damned," Broots muttered as the limo sped towards their destination. Feeling Sydney's curious stare, he pointed at the
billboard welcoming them to the town of Oxford, Mississippi, home of the state university and William Faulkner. "I guess those books Jarod left behind were also a clue."
"I guess so. This doubles the possible places Jarod could be hiding in, so we're going to have to split up. I'll go to the university to look for clues there while you follow the ones having to do with Faulkner."
A ripping noise echoed around them as Broots involuntarily tore the bottom corner of his T-shirt. "Alone?!" he squeaked. "But . . . But I can't! That's not . . . I mean . . ."
Sydney placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder in hopes of calming him down. "I'm sure you'll do just fine."
"But Ms. Parker . . ."
"Ms. Parker is currently at home with the flu. I doubt very much that she can do her job from there, so it's up to you to fill in for her today."
"But . . ."
"You'll do just fine," Sydney repeated, a small smile forming on his lips as he watched Broots square his shoulders and form a determined look on his face.
"Let's get this show on the road, then."
*****
Ms. Parker woke up to the familiar opening chords of "Closer to God" and decided that she had died and gone to hell. There was no way they'd play that song in heaven.
She quickly revised her opinion, however, when a shirtless Jarod walked in wearing what had to be the skimpiest pair of boxer shorts ever created. She was in heaven and God just had a sick sense of humor.
Jarod gave her one of his heart-stopping smile as he headed towards her bed, his expression quickly turning to one of alarm when Trent Reznor, the lead singer of Nine Inch Nails, began to sing.
You let me violate you
You let me desecrate you
You let me penetrate you
You let me complicate you
He was running out of the room before the first verse could even finish. She listened with undisguised amusement as he rushed towards her stereo to stop the CD before it could do anymore damage.
(Help me)I broke apart my insides
(Help me)I've got no soul to-
There was a moment of deafening silence before the sound of Jarod slowly going back up the stairs one at a time echoed around the house. His face was flushed as he tentatively peeked at her from the side of her bedroom door, and it took all her concentration not to smile as she asked, "What the hell was that all about?"
"I wanted to surprise you," he answered softly, his eyes looking everywhere but at her. "I even made you breakfast."
Ms. Parker looked down at the foot of her bed, and sure enough, a tray containing a huge stack of pancakes and a glass of milk was inches away from her. She sat up and brought the tray on her lap. She could feel his eyes on her as she cut off a small piece of her breakfast and placed it in her mouth, a small groan of pleasure escaping her lips as the sweet maple syrup came into contact with her tongue.
She watched him shift uncomfortably through half-lidded eyes. She decided that she liked seeing *him* uncomfortable for once and so moaned again. The hand holding onto the door frame tightened in response.
Ms. Parker wanted to see how far she could take it and leaned way down for her next bite, causing her robe to part and to reveal just a hint of the swell of her breasts. She could clearly hear Jarod's sharp intake of breath from where she sat and hid another victorious smile.
She then took another glance at him from the corner of her eye and found him clinging to the door frame much in the same way a drowning man would to a life preserver. He was licking his lips-a habit he had whenever he was nervous or excited-and she found *herself* getting involuntarily turned on as she imagined how those lips would feel pressed against her skin.
Ms. Parker felt her face burn-though this time not from her fever-and pressed the cool glass of milk against her cheeks. Was it just her or was it getting really hot in her room?
*****
Broots walked out of the William Faulkner's preserved home with a frown on his face. This had been the third place he'd gone to in town, and he wasn't any closer to finding Jarod than when he'd started.
He'd been so sure that he got the location right this time. Could there be some other connection among the clues that he'd missed?
He looked up and found a man leaning against the driver side of their Sedan, trying to pick its lock with a clothes hanger. The pair of Sweepers trailing behind him also noticed the stranger and rushed towards the car as they reached for their guns.
Broots dove behind the lime green '79 Pinto parked behind the Sedan and tried to curl himself into as small a ball as possible while the Sweepers and the would-be-carjacker's bullets whizzed around him. He thought of what Ms. Parker would do under the situation and stood up, knowing that the person whose place he'd taken for the day would rather die than be known as a coward.
A bullet rushed by mere centimeters from his head and he quickly ducked back down, his newfound courage having quickly been replaced by his even stronger sense of self-preservation.
Maybe he'd be better off leaving the Wonder Woman stuff to Ms. Parker.
*****
Jarod never thought it was possible for him to be so jealous of an inanimate object, but right then, he couldn't think of anything
better than being the glass of milk Ms. Parker was rolling against the base of her neck.
She let out another soft moan after the glass left behind a cool trail of moisture in its wake, her back arching slightly as she
dragged it down to the valley between her breasts.
Jarod couldn't take it anymore and rushed inside her room. He placed the glass of milk on the nightstand before kissing her with abandon, his hands cupping her cheeks as he held her face against his.
He could have sworn that he felt Ms. Parker smile under him, but didn't have the time to analyze the reason for it as her fingers
trailed down his chest, causing all his blood to rush south for what seemed like the umpteenth time that week.
This could't be healthy, Jarod thought. The human body just wasn't made to handle all these frequent, rapid changes.
Ms. Parker let out another moan as his lips moved down to the hollow of her neck, and he felt whatever blood remained in the rest of his body rush down to his groin.
It might not be healthy, Jarod silently amended, but what a way to go.
*****
When Sydney got back to the car, he found some of the Centre clean up crew carrying a body bag away from the Sedan while the rest went door to door harassing witnesses into silence.
He looked around for Broots and found the younger man hunched down behind an ugly green car two yards away from the scene of carnage.
"What happened here?" He asked the techie, a note of concern entering his voice when he saw Broots begin to shake.
"S-somebody t-tried to steal the c-car."
Sydney nodded his head in understanding, feeling a bit of pity for the poor thief for picking the wrong car to mess with. He took a hold of the younger man's arm and led him to the sidewalk where he couldsit down and catch his breath.
"You know something, Syd?" Broots said after drinking most of the can of Surge the older man handed to him in one gulp. "Guns can be *really* scary sometimes."
*****
Jarod wasn't quite sure how they ended up naked on her bed, groping each other like teenagers with overdeveloped hormones (Not that he was complaining). One second he was scared of having Ms. Parker laugh in his face for his sad attempt at romance, the next she was moaning his name saying that if he didn't fuck her soon she was gonna die.
He was all too familiar with the second sentiment, a feeling that had constantly plagued him since he first saw her as a woman at
seventeen. However, all those years of sexual frustration had also given him enough control over his desires to be able to take things slow.
Jarod wanted this to last. He wanted to make Ms. Parker feel so good that even thinking about this encounter decades from now would leave her incoherent and begging for more.
He slowly made his way down the salty valley between her breast, smiling as he heard her sharp intake of breath as he made his way towards her left nipple and felt it harden under his tongue.
Jarod's hands wandered south and skimmed them over the soft skin on her waist, her inner thigh, her ass, everywhere but where she wanted most to be touched.
He heard Ms. Parker groan out in protest as his lips left her breast, only to be replaced with one of appreciation when he began to kiss her stomach. He felt it quiver beneath him but continued on with his assault, her grip on his hair tightening as he made his way down.
She was staring down at him with wild eyes, eyes that he knew was going to be the source of many sleepless nights to come. He was about to go continue kissing her when she abruptly pushed him off the bed and rushed out of the room, her footsteps fading as she made a beeline for the bathroom at the end of the hall.
Jarod sat on the floor, unmoving. His expression was one of disbelief as he stared at the open doorway. What just happened? Had he broken some sort of sexual etiquette that he didn't even know existed?
The sound of something heavy falling in the bathroom broke through his musings. He ran down the hall, all thoughts of self-pity
forgotten as he frantically knocked on the bathroom door. "Parker, are you all right?" Hearing no answer, he tested the knob only to find it locked. "Dammit, Parker, answer me!"
~~~~~
~Three's A Crowd
Nothing ruins a romantic evening faster than bringing up the ghosts
of your past. Don't wallow in what might have been; live the moment!
You never know when the good time you could be having now is going
to end.
-John Griffin, Catching Your Mate
~~~~~
"Go away, Jarod!" Ms. Parker yelled, her voice echoing back at her in her cavernous bathroom. She placed shaking fingers against her flushed cheeks, all the while wondering what had possessed her to try and seduce Jarod and wondering when they could do it again. To say that she found the two conflicting emotions confusing was a gross understatement, so she decided to fall back on old habits to buy her some time to think. "Leave me alone!"
"No, not this time," he whispered in reply, his voice gaining strength with each word. "I'm sick of having to start over again
every time we meet, as if all those years of friendship and the multitude of truces we've had over the years means nothing. What are we so afraid of?"
Ms. Parker pressed her face against the cool tile-covered wall, her head turned away from him as if it would somehow help her ignore the truth in his words. "I'm not afraid of anything," she answered petulantly, her voice reminiscent of a little girl unused with not getting her way.
Jarod slumped against the wooden door, his countenance defeated. "Then why is it so hard for us to move past this point? Why is it that I can never tell you that I. . ." his voice trailed off as he heard her shift uneasily, an involuntary reaction he knew she had
born from being disappointed too many times by those who claimed to love her.
He wanted so badly to break down the barriers that stood between them -both physical and psychological-but didn't have enough guts to deal with the consequences if she turned him down. So instead he stood there and repeated the words Sidney had told him so many years ago, all the while hating himself for not being strong enough. ". . . I'm unable to fall in love, did you know that? Sydney told me right after I first thought I felt it. He explained to me that it was just human instincts trying to get me to procreate, nothing more. Don't you think that maybe, this was just an example of that?"
Thank God, Ms. Parker thought with a sigh of relief. She didn't have worry about petty emotions getting in the way after all this blew over after all. But then why did her heart feel like it was going to break?
*****
Jarod didn't know how long he stood there, waiting for some word from her telling him that he was wrong. She'd always been the gutsier one, leading their various adventures throughout the Centre, and a part of him had hoped that same quality would end the dance they'd played around each other for years.
After a couple of minutes of utter silence, however, he painfully came to realize that no words to the contrary would come. Even as he lingered there he could see some of Thomas' things she'd lovingly kept in honor of his memory. There were also files that she'd brought home from work neatly stacked up at the other end of the hall, further reminding him of the many obstacles that still stood between them.
There would be no happily ever after here; at least, not today. They still had a long time to go before they could utter a word of what they really felt without fear of rejection.
With more will power than he thought he had, Jarod extricated himself from the door and walked back to Ms. Parker's room to pack. He wasn't very happy with his next course of action, but knew that it was for the best. Staying would only prolong the awkwardness the was sure to follow.
It didn't take him long to put away his meager belongings, and he was just closing the trunk of his Lexus when he happened to look up and found the irate form of Ms. Parker watching him from her bedroom window.
Even from that distance he could see her cheeks flushed with anger, and for a moment he was confused by it. Shouldn't she be happy that she was finally getting her wish? But then he looked up at her eyes and noticed an emotion there that belied her confident form. They reminded him of the pictures of Holocaust victims Sydney had shown him once, wide eyes staring at him with so much hopelessness that he wanted to kneel down and weep.
He was the cause of that. He was no better than all the others he'd tried so hard to protect her from over the years. He was leaving her, too.
"Fuck happily ever after," Jarod mumbled to himself as he purposely made his way back up to her room. He wanted so badly for everything between them to be perfect that he'd lost sight of the fact that their relationship wasn't always going to be smooth sailing. The story didn't end just because they finally got together.
For a genius, he certainly was dense sometimes.
*****
Ms. Parker knew that he was coming back and was therefore unsurprised to hear her bedroom door opening.
"Forgot something?" she asked frostily, not even bothering to turn around and see Jarod up close. She couldn't bear it just then.
"Yes, actually," he answered, seemingly oblivious to the sound of her heart breaking. She tensed up as she felt strong hands take a hold of her shoulder and turn her around. She was about to demand what the hell he thought he was doing when she felt his soft lips brush against hers.
For a couple of seconds Ms. Parker stood still, afraid that this was just another game intended to toy with her heart; however, the sincerity shining in his brown eyes convinced her to let her guard down and let nature take its course.
Her tongue slid wetly against Jarod's as he pressed her body against his. His hand roamed over her until it found the opening to the red silk kimono she'd hastily put on only moments before, slipping it in until he reached her breast.
Ms. Parker let out a surprised yelp as he placed a cool hand over her left nipple, her nails digging into his arms as he began to trace concentric circles with his thumb.
She was in the middle of unbuttoning his black oxford shirt when the phone rang, causing Jarod to freeze mid-tease.
"Ignore it," Ms. Parker murmured, nuzzling the base of his neck as she savored the heady smell of his cologne.
Jarod shook his head and reluctantly disentangled himself from her arms. "T-This wasn't how I wanted this to happen. I feel like I'm taking advantage of the situation."
She watched him through half-lidded eyes, a mischievous smile on her lips as she kissed her way down his chest. "You're not."
Another ring.
"You don't understand. What I want to tell you. . . I don't want it to be misinterpreted as a declaration made out of lust."
Now Jarod got her attention. Ms. Parker stopped her advance and looked at him straight in the eyes.
"What I told you earlier. . . I lied. I've been in love with you ever since I saw you at seventeen and I. . ."
He was interrupted by the sound of her answering machine picking up the call. "Ms. Parker," Sydney's cultured voice echoed around the room. "I was just calling to tell you that our search for Jarod. . ."
Without breaking eye contact, she pressed the mute button and waited expectantly for Jarod to continue. She'd never wanted anything as much as she wanted to hear what he had to say just then.
". . . I just thought you should know."
And then he was gone, leaving Ms. Parker standing in her room with a hand over lips still swollen from his kisses as she stared at his retreating car in wonder. "Me, too."
~~~~~
~The Goodnight Kiss
There is nothing more important in a date than the kiss goodnight.
Most people make the mistake of going too far too fast to show that
they want another date. Be cool; go only as far as you're comfortable
to go. Your date will know exactly what you mean.
- Jarod Heart, A Pretender's Guide to Dating
~~~~~
The click of Ms. Parker's 4-inch Manolo Blahknik stilettos was almost deafeningly as she walked down one of the Centre's many deserted hallways. She stopped as she reached the end of it, opening the inconspicuous door with the nameplate Dr. Sydney Greene next to it unannounced.
"Have you got anything new on Jarod since you called yesterday?" she demanded as she walked in and calmly sat down on one of the doctor's plush chairs without a hint of the earth-shattering event that took place only the day before.
"W-Well," Broots stuttered from his corner of the room. "We did receive a package from him this morning."
When he made no move to give it to her, Ms. Parker gave him her best glare and asked icily, "What are you waiting for, idiot? The wizard to grant you a brain?" She watched with some satisfaction as he shakily handed her the plain, brown parcel. She gave him a feral smile in return and watched as he cautiously backed away before she looked down and began to unwrap her latest "present" with gusto.
Ms. Parker raised an eyebrow as she unearthed an advanced copy of a book on relationships, a snort escaping her lips as she spotted Jarod's name on the cover. "Like the blind leading the blind."
"I think he wants us to look at a certain part of it!" Broots said excitedly-his fear of her momentarily forgotten-as he pointed at the piece of paper sticking out of one of the pages.
Ms. Parker looked over at Sydney and rolled her eyes while the older man suppressed a smile at their colleague's enthusiasm. Her snide expression softened, however, as she read the small passage Jarod wanted her to look at.
*~*~*~*
THE GOODNIGHT KISS
There is nothing more important in a date than the kiss goodnight.
Most people make the mistake of going too far too fast to show that
they want another date. Be cool; go only as far as you're comfortable
to go. Your date will know exactly what you mean.
*~*~*~*
"Why do you think he wants us to read that, Ms. Parker?" Sydney asked ever-so-calmly as he finished reading the same passage over her shoulder, Jarod's strange behavior over the past couple of days suddenly beginning to make sense to him.
"Hmm? I. . . I don't know," she answered distractedly while she slowly stood up and headed for the door. "I think you're right, Syd, I should go home and get more rest."
Broots looked up at his boss strangely. "But he never told you to go home and. . ."
"I'll tell your father you weren't feeling well," Sydney interrupted, barely able to hold in a smile as his suspicions were confirmed.
The techie gave his coworker a bewildered look after he herded their boss out the door. "What was that all about?"
"I think Ms. Parker just realized how important she is to someone else."
"Huh?"
Sydney gave the young techie an enigmatic smile before going back to the paperwork he'd been working on before Ms. Parker's arrival. "Never mind, Mr. Broots, never mind."
*****
He'd known how she felt.
The thought repeated over and over again in her head as Ms. Parker nervously got out of her car and opened her front door.
"Jarod?" she yelled out, trying to hear him over the staccato pounding of her heart. "Are you in here?"
Ms. Parker walked around her living room, a hopeful smile on her face as she looked at every nook and cranny. "Jarod?"
Not getting an answer, she headed towards the dining room in case the pretender was hiding there. "Come out, come out, wherever you are."
Still no response.
"Dammit, this isn't funny anymore," Ms. Parker growled, the hopeful smile turning to a look of frustration. "Jarod!"
She heard a chair scrape against the wooden floor in her bedroom, and she rushed towards it, all the while chiding herself for hoping that it might be him.
Ms. Parker slammed her door open and barged in, letting go of a breath she didn't even know she held as she came face to face with an open window. "I'm too late."
She trudged over to the other side of the room and gently pushed aside the billowing chiffon curtains so that she could close the
window. She'd just grabbed hold of the ivory frame when a box on the sill caught her eye.
Ms. Parker lifted the lid and found a white candy heart-identical to one she'd received on Valentines Day so many years ago-with the words "Be My Valentine" written across it in red.
"I know it's not exactly in season," Jarod whispered huskily as he walked towards her from the other end of the room.
She gasped in surprise, almost knocking over the box as she spun around to see him. She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed him standing there.
"And I know that I've tried this before," he continued as he stopped a foot away from her and offered her his hand, "But I thought that maybe this time I actually have a chance; so . . . will you be my valentine?"
Ms. Parker clasped his proffered hand between hers and smiled. "I'd love to."
The End
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Send the author some feedback!
Author: Mme Fleiss
Rating: R, Adult situations, Adult situations, Mild Language
Category: Romance, Drama, Angst (J/MP)
Timeline: Mid-season three
Spoilers: None
Summary: Ms. Parker is at home sick, so Jarod decides to help her out, with a little TLC.
Disclaimer: The characters of this story belong to "The Pretender," a protected trademark of MTM Television and NBC. They have been used without permission for the purpose of fan fiction and not for any type of compensation. The events are my invention and any resemblance to real events are purely coincidental.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~Communication
Communication is the key to a successful relationship.
Don't try to hide your feelings; express yourself. Be clear
In what you want so that there would be no misunderstandings
later on.
- Mark Stevens, The Dummy's Guide to Dating
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ms. Parker lied down on her bed, swearing never to move again. Her back hurt, her throat hurt, even frowning as the shrill sound of her cell phone ringing echoed around her room hurt.
She swore she wasn't going to pick it up; whoever was on the other end could just go and wait until she felt better. Too bad she hadn't expected whomever it was to be so tenacious. Five minutes after she'd given up on trying to block the sound by covering her ears with her pillow, she grabbed it from the night stand and growled, "This better be good!"
"Nice to hear from you, too," Jarod answered dryly from the other end of the line. "What's the matter? The stress of the job finally getting to you? You can always give up."
"Don't you have other people to annoy?" she asked hoarsely, a small groan escaping from her lips as their conversation begun to take its toll on her already sore throat.
The condescending tone from earlier was quickly replaced with concern. "Are you all right?"
"Just peachy." Her answer was quickly followed by a sneeze. "My temperature is a hundred and one-" She looked at her thermometer and shook her head. "Make that a hundred and two, and I can't get any rest with people calling and annoying me all the time."
He ignored her snide comment and said, "You should be at the hospital."
Don't be stupid," she wheezed, momentarily taking the phone away from her face so that she could sneeze again. "I'll be fine."
He sounded unconvinced. "You don't sound fine."
"I will be if you leave me alone!" she snapped. "Go bother Syd for the rest of the week." She then hung up on him before he could say another word.
*****
Jarod frowned as he placed the phone back in its cradle. Ms. Parker hadn't sounded well at all. He looked around his apartment for his latest pretend, his jaw clenching as his mind warred with his heart. Intellectually, he knew that he'd do more good helping the people of Manchester find the saboteur of the fourth of July parade, but his heart told him that taking care of his childhood friend was more important.
He absentmindedly pushed the open Jack-in-the-box beside his laptop, oblivious to the feel of it bumping against his thigh as he mulled over his latest quandary. There really wasn't a contest on which desire would win, but it made him feel somewhat better to know that he'd at least thought it over. He knew that if Sydney had been with him, the older man would have admonished him for wasting time; but he wasn't, and Jarod took his sweet time looking absently into space before packing his stuff.
He collected all the evidence he'd gathered so far and placed them in an envelope with the intent of dropping it at the PD on his way out of town.
He then scanned the newspaper for a situation that ended well and placed it in his red notebook. Hopefully, It would take Sydney awhile to realize that he wasn't involved with the recent capture of a cat burglar and thus give him more time with Ms. Parker.
Last but not least, he dropped some false hints for his next destination--the fake information on his latest pretend could only
last so long--and dialed the Centre's number on his way out the door. He knew it would only take a minute before they traced his location.
*****
Sydney picked up his phone after the second ring. "Hello?" Hearing nothing on the other end, he began to worry. "Jarod, is that you?"
Broots looked up from his computer at the sound of the Pretender's name. He begun to run a trace on the call, knowing that his chances of finding Jarod's location in this manner was slim to none.
Sydney begun to pace up and down the office, his tailored suit somehow managing to keep it's straight, crisp lines despite all his movements. "Jarod?"
Broots watched his usually calm and collected co-worker with undisguised fascination; it was rare that the man let anything past
his usually cool exterior. Only the sounds of his computer beeping as it traced the location brought his eyes away from the agitated man. "Uh, Sydney?"
"Yes, Mr. Broots?" he asked, the phone still held against his ear as he waited for whoever was on the other line to say something.
"I traced the call to an apartment in Manchester, Connecticut. It's Jarod."
*****
It was dusk by the time Jarod reached Ms. Parker's cabin, with the sky An ominous dark gray from the incoming storm. He couldn't help but smile as a sudden hot summer breeze caressed his skin, bringing forth a promise of warm days made for drinking cool, tall glasses of lemonade instead of the cold and rainy weather that had shrouded the sun for the last couple of days.
He looked around to make sure she didn't have any visitors. Seeing only her car in the garage, he proceeded to stealthily make his way inside the house. As he opened the backdoor, he was greeted by a deafening silence, and he guessed that Ms. Parker was upstairs sleeping in her room. It was just as well; he had a couple of things to take care of before he could safely make his presence known.
*****
Sydney walked into Jarod's last lair and wasn't surprised by the mess he found. Pez dispensers and empty packages of cookies laid side by side with copies of Faulkner's works. He was about to pick up the book Light in August when he heard Broots call out, "Hey, Sydney, check this out."
He walked over to find Broots pointing at a slip of paper with the name Dr. James H. Meredith scribbled hastily on it.
"You don't think Jarod's hurt, do you?" Broots asked. Even he couldn't stop himself from worrying at this point. What could Jarod possibly want with a doctor unless he's seriously hurt?
"I don't know." Sydney picked the paper and handed it to the younger man. "I don't see blood or medication anywhere to support that, but just to be safe, find out everything you can about this Dr. Meredith."
Broots nodded and headed for his laptop. Sydney watched him for a moment before putting his attention back into searching for more clues in the stark, white room.
*****
Having made sure that the phones in the house were down and that the weapons scattered throughout the house were unloaded, Jarod decided that it was now safe to approach Ms. Parker.
He sneaked up to her room. He'd already committed to memory which door was hers so there was no awkward moment wasted with him trying to figure out which one it was.
Jarod walked in and found her on the bed, her face flushed from her fever. Her dark her was in a disarray from hours spent lying down and she was bundled up with more layers than an Eskimo, but she was still the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen.
He could still clearly remember the moment he'd first noticed her as a woman instead of simply the girl he'd played with as a child. He'd been seventeen then, and was following Sydney back to his room. From the amount of activity, he'd guessed that it'd been early, but having spent most of his life underground without sunlight or a watch to inform him of the time, it made no difference to him and he was ready to get some much needed rest.
Jarod had just stepped into the elevator when he noticed a young woman around his age standing inside one of the labs at the end of the hall. His first thoughts were that she was pretty with her long, auburn hair and piercing sapphire eyes. She was bending over to pick something from the ground and he felt an unfamiliar sensation within him stir at the sight of her long, bare legs.
He must have made too much noise because she turned around and looked directly at him. He couldn't breath. He felt his knees go weak, and he had to grab onto the door to keep himself upright.
Sydney noticed the sudden change in his Pretender's behavior and frowned as he noticed Jarod's source of distraction. He grabbed the boy's shoulders tightly and brought him closer so that the elevator door would finally close.
Jarod's instinctively struggled as he felt the psychiatrist's hands on him. He didn't want to lose sight of her, knowing that he might never see her again. He wanted to imprint her image in his mind so that he could convince himself later on that she was more than a figment of his imagination. Unfortunately for him, Sydney was stronger, and he was able to drag the pretender from the door with little effort.
"Jarod, don't be foolish," he admonished. "Those kind of thoughts only lead to distraction and failure. That's why Pretenders are unable to fall in love."
Jarod came back to the present in a snap as the sounds of the bedclothes rustling alerted him that Ms. Parker was waking up. He touched her forehead and almost yelped at the amount of heat he felt there; he ran to the bathroom to get her a piece of wet cloth to help cool her down.
He saw her eyes flutter as he placed the washcloth on her forehead and felt his heart beat a little faster at the sight of the trusting
look on her face. It was at times like these that he found himself silently asking Sydney the question that plagued him for years. Aren't able or aren't allowed to fall in love? As always there was no answer.
~~~~~
~The Element of Surprise
There's no better way to spice up a flagging relationship than adding in the element of surprise. Got an idea to show up at her
workplace unexpectedly so you can spend her lunch break together? Don't hesitate! women love surprises. It's little things
like these that makes you in her eyes a stud instead of a dud.
- Martin Walker, Dating in the Real World
~~~~~
Ms. Parker felt woozy as she opened her eyes. The last time she felt this bad, she'd drunk Robby "the bottomless pit" Robinson under the table at a fraternity party. She groaned and tried to sit up, but found herself being held down by the blurry figure sitting by her hip.
"Don't get up. You'll only feel worse," a disembodied voice ordered. She looked around to see who it was, but since all she could see was the blurry figure on her bed, she guessed it was him. She was about to close her eyes again when her brain demanded to know why a man was in her house.
That last thought was like a splash of cold water. Ms. Parker snapped out of her sleepy haze and turned around to find Jarod looking down at her. "Nice to see you finally join the land of the living."
*****
Sydney could hear clearly hear the sounds of computer keys tapping as Broots worked across the room. He'd just found the red notebook with details on Jarod's last pretend and was on his way out the door to ask the people involved some questions.
"Find anything?" he inquired before heading out. He really hoped that the younger man did since he wasn't looking forward to questioning strangers; terrorizing witnesses was more Ms. Parker's thing.
"Uh, well, I hacked into the American Medical Association website to find members with the name James H. Meredith. Two match that description, a podiatrist in Iowa and an optometrist in Florida. So I, uh, guess that whatever reason he wrote those names down for, it couldn't have been because he was seriously injured."
Sydney let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "That's good. Anything else?"
Broots let out a weary sigh and briefly closed his eyes to give it a respite from the bright glare of the computer screen. "I'm currently combing through all the data base from those two states to find a match. It's a lot, so it might take a while."
Sydney gave him a reassuring pat on the back before heading back out The door. "I'm sure you'll find him."
*****
Ms. Parker's hand shot towards the nightstand and her 9-mm-only to find that it wasn't there. She glared at her surprise visitor. "What did you do with my gun?"
Jarod's amber eyes widened in an effort to look innocent. "I removed them to make sure nobody gets hurt. I didn't think you'd mind."
"Well I do," she snapped as she tried to get up and get another one of the guns she'd hidden throughout her house.
His grip on her arm was surprisingly strong as he held her down. "Don't. You're still too sick to get up."
"Don't tell me what to do," she answered stubbornly, shaking off his hands before taking a second try at getting up. She failed miserably. She looked back up and glared at Jarod. At least he didn't tell her "I told you so."
"I told you so," he said, a mischievous smile on his face.
Ms. Parker wanted to smack him but didn't have the strength, so instead, she leaned back into her pillow and asked, "What are you doing here?"
"I thought we'd play doctor again."
The words "playing doctor" invariably brought to her mind the phrase, "show me yours and I'll show you mine," but by the innocent look on his face, she doubted very much that it was what he meant. She was about to tease him for his choice of words when her brain caught on to the full extent of what he'd said. "We never played doctor!" She would have remembered something like that.
"Yeah, we did. Don't you remember? We played it when we were ten after Sydney made me do a SIM as an ER doctor. I gave you a fake examination, made a diagnosis, and everything."
"Oh that," Ms. Parker answered, sounding quite relieved. "Now I remember. I didn't have the heart to tell you that you were doing it wrong."
"Then how else do you play doctor?"
It was her turn to have a mischievous smile on her face as she said, "That's for me to know and for you never to find out."
*****
"Jarod?" the young woman that lived in the house where the attempted burglary occurred asked with a puzzled frown. "Who's that?"
"You mean you've never seen this man before?" Sydney asked, bringing the picture he always carried around of the Pretender closer to the woman's face.
She took another look and shook her head. "Nope. Never seen him before in my life."
Sydney frowned, wondering what was going on. The people Jarod helped had always remembered him quite clearly before. He couldn't understand what brought on this sudden change. "Thank you for your help."
*****
Ms. Parker waited until Jarod excused himself to go to the bathroom to use her phone. Having known Jarod for so long, she wasn't surprised to find her cell phone gone and the rest of the phones out of order; nonetheless, it still pissed her off to no end.
The minute he got back to her room, she angrily began to shake the now useless piece of plastic at him as she demanded, "Jarod, what did you do to them?"
Jarod wasn't taken aback that she'd tried to turn him over to the Centre while he was at the john. He'd anticipated it and it was the reason he'd disabled her phones in the first place. "I can't exactly take care of you if I'm behind Centre walls, now can I?"
"You plan on staying?" To say that she was surprised by this little bit of information would be an understatement. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out why he'd want to help her after all the trouble she'd caused him over the years. "When did you plan on sharing this with me?"
"Surprise!" he mumbled dispassionately, his expression making it clear that he hadn't planned on revealing that piece of information in this manner.
Good, she thought. Served him right for coming without asking her permission. "I hate surprises," she grumbled, burrowing further into the sheets. "So how long do you plan on staying?"
"Until you're well enough to be on your own."
That raised Ms. Parker's suspicion. Both of them knew damn well that she'd be a lot more determined to catch him once she got her strength back. He wasn't stupid, so how could he possibly plan on escaping unscathed? "You have something up your sleeve, don't you?"
Jarod smirked at her as he parroted her earlier answer. "That's for me to know and for you never to find out."
*****
Broots heard his computer beep as it finished searching the Florida and Iowa archives for anything related to Jarod. Fourteen names came up on his screen, all blinking as they waited for his cursor to click on one of them.
Being a computer programmer, he had learned early on the advantages of being methodical. It therefore came as no surprise when he predictably made his way one by one down the screen, his frown increasing as none of his preliminary searches matched Jarod's description.
Broots then decided to go back to the name Dr. James H. Meredith; just because he had the title of a doctor preceding his name didn't necessarily mean that he was a medical doctor. Broots widened his search for the elusive man and watched with a small smile as his computer beeped and began a nationwide search of this one man.
*****
"Jarod?" Chief of Police Geraldine Summers asked. "Why of course I remember him. He was helping me with the fourth of July sabotage case."
"Are you sure?"
She looked at him strangely. "I may be old, but my memory's still working, you know."
"Oh, I didn't mean it like that. It just that I heard he was working on the recent burglaries."
"Oh no. That's Joe's-" she pointed at the younger man sitting across the room, "-job. We thought it was too high-profile a case for a rookie to work on."
"Any ideas on where Jarod had gone?"
"He mumbled something about his mother being sick and having to rush home while he dropped off the evidence he had on him." The chief sat up straighter and leaned in closer to Sydney. "He's not in any trouble, is he?"
"No, nothing like that. I just wanted to talk to him before he. . . saw his mother." Sydney stood up and bid her farewell. He almost bumped into a number of things as he made his way out of the small but clean precinct, his mind occupied with this latest tidbit of information.
If Chief Summers was telling the truth-and he had no doubt that she was since there was no reason for her not to-then something important from Jarod's past must have resurfaced. It was the only explanation he could think of for the younger man to stop in the middle of a pretend. But what could be so important?
~~~~~
~Be A Gentleman
There's nothing a woman hates more than a pushy man. Don't force yourself on her; If you find yourself getting turned on, think about something else. The need for release can always be taken care of later on in a strip bar or a really good XXX movie.
- Paul Reubens, Pee-Wee's Adult Playhouse
~~~~~
Jarod hummed as he spooned off a bowl of chicken soup he'd made specifically for Ms. Parker. He wasn't quite sure how exactly it would help her with her fever, but then he vaguely remember hearing somewhere the phrase "catch a cold, feed a fever" and it must have worked if. . . No, wait, that didn't sound right. He frowned, trying to remember what exactly he'd overheard at a diner once. Maybe it was "feed a cold, starve a fever. . ."
A loud thump from Ms. Parker's bedroom brought him out of his ruminations and sent him running up the stairs. He opened her door and found her looking sheepishly at a lamp she'd knocked over. Wearing only her underwear.
"I was hot," was her explanation at her state of undress before she shamelessly plopped down on the bed.
Jarod quickly redirected his eyes towards the painting in the corner, his face turning the same shade as her feverish body. It took minutes of thinking up the unsexiest thoughts he could come up with-a disaster area, a landfill, Richard Simmons in spandex-before he could look in her general direction again and hand her the bowl of soup.
"I. . . I, uh, made you something." Jarod could see her smile at his obvious discomfort. He silently cursed, hating the way she managed to stay in control when they were near while it took all his effort not to sound like a blubbering idiot. "I'll go and let you eat in peace."
He slammed the door behind him before she could respond. He went down the stairs, taking two steps at a time and let out a sigh of relief as he sat down on one of the living room's overstuffed white chairs.
Jarod let out a groan as the half-naked image of her floated in his mind. It seemed that with her far away, his brain didn't think it
practical to waste more of it's energy trying not to think of her.
"Think of Richard Simmons in spandex," he whispered to himself, his voice tinged with hysteria. There was no way his plan was going to work if he couldn't control himself.
In his effort to divert his attention, Jarod's eyes landed on a picture of Ms. Parker on the mantle, bringing forth another vision of
her on the bed, half-naked, with an inviting smile on her lips. His voice grew increasingly desperate as he continued to chant, "Think of Richard Simmons in spandex!"
*****
Jarod was right about Ms. Parker being on the bed, but she was nowhere near as underdressed as he'd thought. Not long after Jarod left her room, she felt the earlier chill returning and she covered herself with as many sheets she could find. She'd done such a good job covering herself up that she couldn't untangle herself from them.
"Shit," she muttered, pulling one of the sheets away from her body in hopes of getting it off her but instead tightening its hold around her body. She knew, of course, that this latest dilemma could easily be solved if she asked Jarod to come up and help, but she refused to do it. She'd done just fine on her own so far; besides, she'd never live it down.
Ms. Parker took a hold of another sheet and tugged with all her might, a surprised shriek escaping her throat as it sent her rolling on the bed and down into the hard wooden floor.
*****
Jarod had been in the throes of a rather vivid dream involving--strangely enough--Richard Simmons when he heard a loud noise reverberate from upstairs.
It took him a couple of seconds to get his bearings and to remember why he'd been dreaming about a fitness guru, but when he did, he ran upstairs in a speed that would make Carl Lewis green with envy.
He was panting heavily by the time he'd reached her door, his concerned expression quickly turning to one of amusement as saw Ms. Parker sprawled awkwardly on the wooden floor.
Jarod tried to hide his smile as he walked up to her and held out his hand. "Need any help?"
"No. I'm fine."
He watched her struggle to get up for a couple more seconds before asking, "Are you sure?"
Ms. Parker gave him a cutting look as she exasperatedly yelled out, "Yes!" Her annoyed countenance quickly turned smug as she shakily managed to get up to a squatting position. "See," she said as she tried to straighten up. "I told you I could do it on my. . ." her voice trailed off as the sheet that she'd been standing on was jerked away from her feet.
She let out a surprised yelp and instinctively grabbed on to one of Jarod's sleeves. Unfortunately, her nearness had brought back his earlier thoughts of Ms. Parker smiling at him invitingly. He was therefore unprepared for the extra weight he suddenly carried, sending them both hurtling down on the floor with a loud thunk.
His first thought was that it never looked like it hurt this much when it happened in the movies. He grimaced as he felt Ms. Parker's long nails dig into his arms and he slowly looked down to find her glaring at him.
"Are you planning on moving anytime today?"
Jarod gave her a sheepish smile before quickly getting up, taking back his proffered hand when she directed at him another icy glare.
He felt horrible as he watched Ms. Parker hide a wince while she tried to stand up. She didn't even comment when he fluffed up her pillow before helping her lie down, lending credence to his theory that she was hurt a lot more than she let on.
"Is there anything I can get you? More soup? Some aspirin?"
Ms. Parker tilted her head up to look at him and instantly regretted it. Jarod was tucking the comforter under the bed, his hard muscles flexing under his shirt as he lifted the combined weight of the mattress and her body.
Without thinking, she reached over to stroke his biceps, noting the deep brown shade from hours in the sun. She traced a vein all the way down to his wrist and looked back up when he took a hold of her hand to stop it from moving any further.
"What are you doing?" he asked hoarsely, his tongue flicking out to nervously wet his lips.
She fought back the urge to follow the wet trail he left behind with her thumb, all the while asking herself the same question.
She must be sicker than she thought.
Ms. Parker suppressed a shiver of excitement that resulted from the hunger that she could clearly see in his eyes. It took all her effort to turn her head away from him, not wanting to acknowledge the similar look that reflected back at her from its smoky, brown depth. "I--I think you should leave."
*****
"Oxford, Mississippi," Broots stated when Sydney walked into Jarod's last known lair.
"Excuse me?"
"Jarod is in Oxford, Mississippi," the younger man repeated as he excitedly pointed at his computer screen. "Dr. James H. Meredith was famous for being the first African-American student at the University of Mississippi which is located in Oxford."
"Brilliant, Mr. Broots," Sydney answered distractedly. He suspected that this was another ruse that Jarod made up in an effort to keep them away, but for the life of him still couldn't figure out the Pretender's motive. He did trust the younger man's judgment, however, and decided to go along with it for now. "You can make the reservations while I inform the Centre of our next destination."
*****
Jarod stood outside her door, his heart pounding and his mind moving a mile a minute as he tried to understand the latest turn of events.
What had happened in there? He had been tucking her in, his mind finally free of the seductive image of Ms. Parker that he'd carried all day when he felt her hand caress his arm, sending all his blood to rush south as his head filled with even more enticing images of her.
It took all his will power not to lift the hand he held up to his mouth for a kiss, knowing that he wouldn't be able to stop just
there and would continue on her arm, up to her neck, and then her lips.
Jarod realized that he was painfully gripping the knob of Ms. Parker's bedroom door and quickly let go before making his way
downstairs.
He had to stop thinking about this; otherwise, he'd have the dubious honor of being the first person to die from sexual frustration.
Jarod headed to the kitchen and tried to distract himself with making preparations for tomorrows breakfast. He almost cried out when he noticed the number of things in it that reminded him of her: from the mug she always used to drink coffee in the morning, the stacks of yogurt in her fridge that he knew she liked to eat for breakfast, and even the potholder with her surname embroidered on it that Debbie had made for her in home EC.
He found her milk carton empty, and though his mind supplied him with hundreds of dishes he could make in the morning without it, he decided to take the opportunity to get out of the house for awhile and hopefully clear his head from the dangerous thoughts it insisted on heading towards.
*****
The supermarket was surprisingly crowded for nine in the evening. It had taken him forever to get out of there with his single purchase, no thanks to the middle-aged woman in front of him who insisted on paying with a credit card on a cash only line.
Jarod was on his way to the parking lot when the window display of a nearby bookstore caught his eye'.
A picture of a local author, Mark Stevens, stood in the middle, surrounded by his latest book, The Dummy's Guide to Dating, and garish Christmas lights that bathed passing pedestrians in clashing multi-colored lights.
Jarod stopped in his tracks, oblivious to the moisture dripping down his skintight black shirt from the condensing milk carton.
A guide to dating, huh? If anyone needed it, it would be him. His years of living in practical isolation had left him clueless when it
came to women and dating. It didn't help that the woman he wanted would probably just as soon see him dead.
Sydney's statement from years before that Pretender's weren't able to fall in love replayed in his head over and over again like a broken record player stuck on the same groove. It almost made him keep on walking to his Lexus, but the promise the book held of a more intimate future with his childhood friend kept him still.
Jarod stood there for a couple of minutes, wracked with indecision. He noticed the appreciative glances from remaining clerk closing the store for the night, and it gave him the boost of confidence he needed to sheepishly tap on the front window.
"I'm really sorry about this," he apologized as she let him in. "The window display caught my attention."
"You're having dating troubles?" she asked incredulously. "You?"
Jarod blushed and headed straight to the self-help section, picking one of each book at the shelf labeled sex and relationships. "I don't have a lot of experience when it comes to women."
The look she gave him clearly stated that she'd be happy to help him with that, but he already felt bad for leading her on this far and so quickly paid for his purchases and left without another word.
*****
Ms. Parker's house was dark and silent when Jarod got back. He opened his trunk and guiltily looked at his extra purchases.
He silently reminded himself that there was nothing wrong with buying guides to dating women. It was a booming market; millions of other men had done the same.
So how come he felt like a thirteen-year-old boy trying to sneak a Playboy up to his room?
~~~~~
~Five Ways To Say I Love You
1) Give her flowers and chocolates when there's no special occasion
2) Give her an erotic back massage
3) Write her a love poem
4) Make her breakfast in bed
5) Put down the toilet seat after you're done using it
-Donna Banks, How to Woo Your Mate
~~~~~
Jarod frowned as he reread the last passage. He really didn't understand number five, but he was pretty sure that he could do the rest (though probably not number two. Ms. Parker would kill him for even thinking of it).
He grabbed another book and read a random advice aloud to reassure himself that he wasn't about to make an ass of himself. "Show a lot of leg. Your date is sure to appreciate it." He smiled with satisfaction as he looked down at his skimpiest pair of black silk boxer shorts and mentally crossed that one off his list.
Now all he needed was some mood music; the dating books had repeatedly stressed its importance. Jarod walked over to Ms. Parker's entertainment center and rifled through her stack of CDs. He didn't recognize any of the artists, but he figured the band called Nine Inch Nails was the one most likely to have romantic songs; after all, with a song title like "Closer to God," how far off the mark could he be?
*****
"I'll be damned," Broots muttered as the limo sped towards their destination. Feeling Sydney's curious stare, he pointed at the
billboard welcoming them to the town of Oxford, Mississippi, home of the state university and William Faulkner. "I guess those books Jarod left behind were also a clue."
"I guess so. This doubles the possible places Jarod could be hiding in, so we're going to have to split up. I'll go to the university to look for clues there while you follow the ones having to do with Faulkner."
A ripping noise echoed around them as Broots involuntarily tore the bottom corner of his T-shirt. "Alone?!" he squeaked. "But . . . But I can't! That's not . . . I mean . . ."
Sydney placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder in hopes of calming him down. "I'm sure you'll do just fine."
"But Ms. Parker . . ."
"Ms. Parker is currently at home with the flu. I doubt very much that she can do her job from there, so it's up to you to fill in for her today."
"But . . ."
"You'll do just fine," Sydney repeated, a small smile forming on his lips as he watched Broots square his shoulders and form a determined look on his face.
"Let's get this show on the road, then."
*****
Ms. Parker woke up to the familiar opening chords of "Closer to God" and decided that she had died and gone to hell. There was no way they'd play that song in heaven.
She quickly revised her opinion, however, when a shirtless Jarod walked in wearing what had to be the skimpiest pair of boxer shorts ever created. She was in heaven and God just had a sick sense of humor.
Jarod gave her one of his heart-stopping smile as he headed towards her bed, his expression quickly turning to one of alarm when Trent Reznor, the lead singer of Nine Inch Nails, began to sing.
You let me violate you
You let me desecrate you
You let me penetrate you
You let me complicate you
He was running out of the room before the first verse could even finish. She listened with undisguised amusement as he rushed towards her stereo to stop the CD before it could do anymore damage.
(Help me)I broke apart my insides
(Help me)I've got no soul to-
There was a moment of deafening silence before the sound of Jarod slowly going back up the stairs one at a time echoed around the house. His face was flushed as he tentatively peeked at her from the side of her bedroom door, and it took all her concentration not to smile as she asked, "What the hell was that all about?"
"I wanted to surprise you," he answered softly, his eyes looking everywhere but at her. "I even made you breakfast."
Ms. Parker looked down at the foot of her bed, and sure enough, a tray containing a huge stack of pancakes and a glass of milk was inches away from her. She sat up and brought the tray on her lap. She could feel his eyes on her as she cut off a small piece of her breakfast and placed it in her mouth, a small groan of pleasure escaping her lips as the sweet maple syrup came into contact with her tongue.
She watched him shift uncomfortably through half-lidded eyes. She decided that she liked seeing *him* uncomfortable for once and so moaned again. The hand holding onto the door frame tightened in response.
Ms. Parker wanted to see how far she could take it and leaned way down for her next bite, causing her robe to part and to reveal just a hint of the swell of her breasts. She could clearly hear Jarod's sharp intake of breath from where she sat and hid another victorious smile.
She then took another glance at him from the corner of her eye and found him clinging to the door frame much in the same way a drowning man would to a life preserver. He was licking his lips-a habit he had whenever he was nervous or excited-and she found *herself* getting involuntarily turned on as she imagined how those lips would feel pressed against her skin.
Ms. Parker felt her face burn-though this time not from her fever-and pressed the cool glass of milk against her cheeks. Was it just her or was it getting really hot in her room?
*****
Broots walked out of the William Faulkner's preserved home with a frown on his face. This had been the third place he'd gone to in town, and he wasn't any closer to finding Jarod than when he'd started.
He'd been so sure that he got the location right this time. Could there be some other connection among the clues that he'd missed?
He looked up and found a man leaning against the driver side of their Sedan, trying to pick its lock with a clothes hanger. The pair of Sweepers trailing behind him also noticed the stranger and rushed towards the car as they reached for their guns.
Broots dove behind the lime green '79 Pinto parked behind the Sedan and tried to curl himself into as small a ball as possible while the Sweepers and the would-be-carjacker's bullets whizzed around him. He thought of what Ms. Parker would do under the situation and stood up, knowing that the person whose place he'd taken for the day would rather die than be known as a coward.
A bullet rushed by mere centimeters from his head and he quickly ducked back down, his newfound courage having quickly been replaced by his even stronger sense of self-preservation.
Maybe he'd be better off leaving the Wonder Woman stuff to Ms. Parker.
*****
Jarod never thought it was possible for him to be so jealous of an inanimate object, but right then, he couldn't think of anything
better than being the glass of milk Ms. Parker was rolling against the base of her neck.
She let out another soft moan after the glass left behind a cool trail of moisture in its wake, her back arching slightly as she
dragged it down to the valley between her breasts.
Jarod couldn't take it anymore and rushed inside her room. He placed the glass of milk on the nightstand before kissing her with abandon, his hands cupping her cheeks as he held her face against his.
He could have sworn that he felt Ms. Parker smile under him, but didn't have the time to analyze the reason for it as her fingers
trailed down his chest, causing all his blood to rush south for what seemed like the umpteenth time that week.
This could't be healthy, Jarod thought. The human body just wasn't made to handle all these frequent, rapid changes.
Ms. Parker let out another moan as his lips moved down to the hollow of her neck, and he felt whatever blood remained in the rest of his body rush down to his groin.
It might not be healthy, Jarod silently amended, but what a way to go.
*****
When Sydney got back to the car, he found some of the Centre clean up crew carrying a body bag away from the Sedan while the rest went door to door harassing witnesses into silence.
He looked around for Broots and found the younger man hunched down behind an ugly green car two yards away from the scene of carnage.
"What happened here?" He asked the techie, a note of concern entering his voice when he saw Broots begin to shake.
"S-somebody t-tried to steal the c-car."
Sydney nodded his head in understanding, feeling a bit of pity for the poor thief for picking the wrong car to mess with. He took a hold of the younger man's arm and led him to the sidewalk where he couldsit down and catch his breath.
"You know something, Syd?" Broots said after drinking most of the can of Surge the older man handed to him in one gulp. "Guns can be *really* scary sometimes."
*****
Jarod wasn't quite sure how they ended up naked on her bed, groping each other like teenagers with overdeveloped hormones (Not that he was complaining). One second he was scared of having Ms. Parker laugh in his face for his sad attempt at romance, the next she was moaning his name saying that if he didn't fuck her soon she was gonna die.
He was all too familiar with the second sentiment, a feeling that had constantly plagued him since he first saw her as a woman at
seventeen. However, all those years of sexual frustration had also given him enough control over his desires to be able to take things slow.
Jarod wanted this to last. He wanted to make Ms. Parker feel so good that even thinking about this encounter decades from now would leave her incoherent and begging for more.
He slowly made his way down the salty valley between her breast, smiling as he heard her sharp intake of breath as he made his way towards her left nipple and felt it harden under his tongue.
Jarod's hands wandered south and skimmed them over the soft skin on her waist, her inner thigh, her ass, everywhere but where she wanted most to be touched.
He heard Ms. Parker groan out in protest as his lips left her breast, only to be replaced with one of appreciation when he began to kiss her stomach. He felt it quiver beneath him but continued on with his assault, her grip on his hair tightening as he made his way down.
She was staring down at him with wild eyes, eyes that he knew was going to be the source of many sleepless nights to come. He was about to go continue kissing her when she abruptly pushed him off the bed and rushed out of the room, her footsteps fading as she made a beeline for the bathroom at the end of the hall.
Jarod sat on the floor, unmoving. His expression was one of disbelief as he stared at the open doorway. What just happened? Had he broken some sort of sexual etiquette that he didn't even know existed?
The sound of something heavy falling in the bathroom broke through his musings. He ran down the hall, all thoughts of self-pity
forgotten as he frantically knocked on the bathroom door. "Parker, are you all right?" Hearing no answer, he tested the knob only to find it locked. "Dammit, Parker, answer me!"
~~~~~
~Three's A Crowd
Nothing ruins a romantic evening faster than bringing up the ghosts
of your past. Don't wallow in what might have been; live the moment!
You never know when the good time you could be having now is going
to end.
-John Griffin, Catching Your Mate
~~~~~
"Go away, Jarod!" Ms. Parker yelled, her voice echoing back at her in her cavernous bathroom. She placed shaking fingers against her flushed cheeks, all the while wondering what had possessed her to try and seduce Jarod and wondering when they could do it again. To say that she found the two conflicting emotions confusing was a gross understatement, so she decided to fall back on old habits to buy her some time to think. "Leave me alone!"
"No, not this time," he whispered in reply, his voice gaining strength with each word. "I'm sick of having to start over again
every time we meet, as if all those years of friendship and the multitude of truces we've had over the years means nothing. What are we so afraid of?"
Ms. Parker pressed her face against the cool tile-covered wall, her head turned away from him as if it would somehow help her ignore the truth in his words. "I'm not afraid of anything," she answered petulantly, her voice reminiscent of a little girl unused with not getting her way.
Jarod slumped against the wooden door, his countenance defeated. "Then why is it so hard for us to move past this point? Why is it that I can never tell you that I. . ." his voice trailed off as he heard her shift uneasily, an involuntary reaction he knew she had
born from being disappointed too many times by those who claimed to love her.
He wanted so badly to break down the barriers that stood between them -both physical and psychological-but didn't have enough guts to deal with the consequences if she turned him down. So instead he stood there and repeated the words Sidney had told him so many years ago, all the while hating himself for not being strong enough. ". . . I'm unable to fall in love, did you know that? Sydney told me right after I first thought I felt it. He explained to me that it was just human instincts trying to get me to procreate, nothing more. Don't you think that maybe, this was just an example of that?"
Thank God, Ms. Parker thought with a sigh of relief. She didn't have worry about petty emotions getting in the way after all this blew over after all. But then why did her heart feel like it was going to break?
*****
Jarod didn't know how long he stood there, waiting for some word from her telling him that he was wrong. She'd always been the gutsier one, leading their various adventures throughout the Centre, and a part of him had hoped that same quality would end the dance they'd played around each other for years.
After a couple of minutes of utter silence, however, he painfully came to realize that no words to the contrary would come. Even as he lingered there he could see some of Thomas' things she'd lovingly kept in honor of his memory. There were also files that she'd brought home from work neatly stacked up at the other end of the hall, further reminding him of the many obstacles that still stood between them.
There would be no happily ever after here; at least, not today. They still had a long time to go before they could utter a word of what they really felt without fear of rejection.
With more will power than he thought he had, Jarod extricated himself from the door and walked back to Ms. Parker's room to pack. He wasn't very happy with his next course of action, but knew that it was for the best. Staying would only prolong the awkwardness the was sure to follow.
It didn't take him long to put away his meager belongings, and he was just closing the trunk of his Lexus when he happened to look up and found the irate form of Ms. Parker watching him from her bedroom window.
Even from that distance he could see her cheeks flushed with anger, and for a moment he was confused by it. Shouldn't she be happy that she was finally getting her wish? But then he looked up at her eyes and noticed an emotion there that belied her confident form. They reminded him of the pictures of Holocaust victims Sydney had shown him once, wide eyes staring at him with so much hopelessness that he wanted to kneel down and weep.
He was the cause of that. He was no better than all the others he'd tried so hard to protect her from over the years. He was leaving her, too.
"Fuck happily ever after," Jarod mumbled to himself as he purposely made his way back up to her room. He wanted so badly for everything between them to be perfect that he'd lost sight of the fact that their relationship wasn't always going to be smooth sailing. The story didn't end just because they finally got together.
For a genius, he certainly was dense sometimes.
*****
Ms. Parker knew that he was coming back and was therefore unsurprised to hear her bedroom door opening.
"Forgot something?" she asked frostily, not even bothering to turn around and see Jarod up close. She couldn't bear it just then.
"Yes, actually," he answered, seemingly oblivious to the sound of her heart breaking. She tensed up as she felt strong hands take a hold of her shoulder and turn her around. She was about to demand what the hell he thought he was doing when she felt his soft lips brush against hers.
For a couple of seconds Ms. Parker stood still, afraid that this was just another game intended to toy with her heart; however, the sincerity shining in his brown eyes convinced her to let her guard down and let nature take its course.
Her tongue slid wetly against Jarod's as he pressed her body against his. His hand roamed over her until it found the opening to the red silk kimono she'd hastily put on only moments before, slipping it in until he reached her breast.
Ms. Parker let out a surprised yelp as he placed a cool hand over her left nipple, her nails digging into his arms as he began to trace concentric circles with his thumb.
She was in the middle of unbuttoning his black oxford shirt when the phone rang, causing Jarod to freeze mid-tease.
"Ignore it," Ms. Parker murmured, nuzzling the base of his neck as she savored the heady smell of his cologne.
Jarod shook his head and reluctantly disentangled himself from her arms. "T-This wasn't how I wanted this to happen. I feel like I'm taking advantage of the situation."
She watched him through half-lidded eyes, a mischievous smile on her lips as she kissed her way down his chest. "You're not."
Another ring.
"You don't understand. What I want to tell you. . . I don't want it to be misinterpreted as a declaration made out of lust."
Now Jarod got her attention. Ms. Parker stopped her advance and looked at him straight in the eyes.
"What I told you earlier. . . I lied. I've been in love with you ever since I saw you at seventeen and I. . ."
He was interrupted by the sound of her answering machine picking up the call. "Ms. Parker," Sydney's cultured voice echoed around the room. "I was just calling to tell you that our search for Jarod. . ."
Without breaking eye contact, she pressed the mute button and waited expectantly for Jarod to continue. She'd never wanted anything as much as she wanted to hear what he had to say just then.
". . . I just thought you should know."
And then he was gone, leaving Ms. Parker standing in her room with a hand over lips still swollen from his kisses as she stared at his retreating car in wonder. "Me, too."
~~~~~
~The Goodnight Kiss
There is nothing more important in a date than the kiss goodnight.
Most people make the mistake of going too far too fast to show that
they want another date. Be cool; go only as far as you're comfortable
to go. Your date will know exactly what you mean.
- Jarod Heart, A Pretender's Guide to Dating
~~~~~
The click of Ms. Parker's 4-inch Manolo Blahknik stilettos was almost deafeningly as she walked down one of the Centre's many deserted hallways. She stopped as she reached the end of it, opening the inconspicuous door with the nameplate Dr. Sydney Greene next to it unannounced.
"Have you got anything new on Jarod since you called yesterday?" she demanded as she walked in and calmly sat down on one of the doctor's plush chairs without a hint of the earth-shattering event that took place only the day before.
"W-Well," Broots stuttered from his corner of the room. "We did receive a package from him this morning."
When he made no move to give it to her, Ms. Parker gave him her best glare and asked icily, "What are you waiting for, idiot? The wizard to grant you a brain?" She watched with some satisfaction as he shakily handed her the plain, brown parcel. She gave him a feral smile in return and watched as he cautiously backed away before she looked down and began to unwrap her latest "present" with gusto.
Ms. Parker raised an eyebrow as she unearthed an advanced copy of a book on relationships, a snort escaping her lips as she spotted Jarod's name on the cover. "Like the blind leading the blind."
"I think he wants us to look at a certain part of it!" Broots said excitedly-his fear of her momentarily forgotten-as he pointed at the piece of paper sticking out of one of the pages.
Ms. Parker looked over at Sydney and rolled her eyes while the older man suppressed a smile at their colleague's enthusiasm. Her snide expression softened, however, as she read the small passage Jarod wanted her to look at.
*~*~*~*
THE GOODNIGHT KISS
There is nothing more important in a date than the kiss goodnight.
Most people make the mistake of going too far too fast to show that
they want another date. Be cool; go only as far as you're comfortable
to go. Your date will know exactly what you mean.
*~*~*~*
"Why do you think he wants us to read that, Ms. Parker?" Sydney asked ever-so-calmly as he finished reading the same passage over her shoulder, Jarod's strange behavior over the past couple of days suddenly beginning to make sense to him.
"Hmm? I. . . I don't know," she answered distractedly while she slowly stood up and headed for the door. "I think you're right, Syd, I should go home and get more rest."
Broots looked up at his boss strangely. "But he never told you to go home and. . ."
"I'll tell your father you weren't feeling well," Sydney interrupted, barely able to hold in a smile as his suspicions were confirmed.
The techie gave his coworker a bewildered look after he herded their boss out the door. "What was that all about?"
"I think Ms. Parker just realized how important she is to someone else."
"Huh?"
Sydney gave the young techie an enigmatic smile before going back to the paperwork he'd been working on before Ms. Parker's arrival. "Never mind, Mr. Broots, never mind."
*****
He'd known how she felt.
The thought repeated over and over again in her head as Ms. Parker nervously got out of her car and opened her front door.
"Jarod?" she yelled out, trying to hear him over the staccato pounding of her heart. "Are you in here?"
Ms. Parker walked around her living room, a hopeful smile on her face as she looked at every nook and cranny. "Jarod?"
Not getting an answer, she headed towards the dining room in case the pretender was hiding there. "Come out, come out, wherever you are."
Still no response.
"Dammit, this isn't funny anymore," Ms. Parker growled, the hopeful smile turning to a look of frustration. "Jarod!"
She heard a chair scrape against the wooden floor in her bedroom, and she rushed towards it, all the while chiding herself for hoping that it might be him.
Ms. Parker slammed her door open and barged in, letting go of a breath she didn't even know she held as she came face to face with an open window. "I'm too late."
She trudged over to the other side of the room and gently pushed aside the billowing chiffon curtains so that she could close the
window. She'd just grabbed hold of the ivory frame when a box on the sill caught her eye.
Ms. Parker lifted the lid and found a white candy heart-identical to one she'd received on Valentines Day so many years ago-with the words "Be My Valentine" written across it in red.
"I know it's not exactly in season," Jarod whispered huskily as he walked towards her from the other end of the room.
She gasped in surprise, almost knocking over the box as she spun around to see him. She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed him standing there.
"And I know that I've tried this before," he continued as he stopped a foot away from her and offered her his hand, "But I thought that maybe this time I actually have a chance; so . . . will you be my valentine?"
Ms. Parker clasped his proffered hand between hers and smiled. "I'd love to."
The End
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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