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Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, I believe that NBC has the official right to manipulate these characters, but like others, I like to wonder what they would do in *my* world. Please do not archive without my permission. (at the very least you'll guarantee another hit on your site :)

Author's Note: Thanks to my late night fic-writing buddies (you know who you are ) Sorry I don't have anything more entertaining to say. This is supposed to be a humorous story so I should do my best to start you laughing in this authors note. *shrug* I guess I'll have to work on that.

Sequel toNever Stand on the X and X Marks the spot

Make Sure You're Not On An X
By Gables

Miss Parker was surprised when the phone rang. >It's too early. It can't be him, she thought. Her eyes automatically looked at the clock. 10:10. >Oh he's got some nerve. She amended her previous thought and decided it was Jarod on the phone after transcribing the time into Roman numerals.


"How are you Miss Parker?" Jarod's voice had the usual playful tone.

"Out another outfit thanks to your immature stunts."

"Immature? Those took a lot of planning!"

"Immature is still childish no matter how much planning it took."

Jarod's voice turned to mock sadness. "But Miss Parker, I never had a childhood."

"Well, next time you feel like being childish, leave me out of it! I already had a childhood."

Jarod laughed. "I make no promises, just make sure that you're not on an X." With that warning, he hung up.

Miss Parker threw the phone on the bed and took another sip of her drink. She took one last look at her latest ruined power suit.

"Inconsiderate bastard."


One week later

Miss Parker and Broots approached Jarod's most recent lair. She opened the door and looked in. It was pitch black.

"Broots! Go in and find the light." She gave him a small push.

"But uh, ok Miss Parker." He stumbled inside and looked back at her worriedly. He knew that Jarod had been playing the trickster recently and did not want to be in the way.

"And Broots!"

Her threatening voice startled him even more. He jumped around to face her. A hand grazed a vase sitting precariously close to the edge of a table. It fell to the floor and shattered. He looked down at it and heard the rest of Miss Parker's orders.

"Don't touch anything!" She added "Moron!" after hearing the crash. A beat passed as he looked up at her, scared of both her reaction and of the threat of booby traps curtsey of Jarod.

"What's that Broots? What's happening?"

The techie looked down and then back to her. "It's smoke."

"Smoke?" From the light of the hallway, she could see the plume rising. "Is anything on fire?"

"Nnn no, Just smoke." He mumbled, taking a moment to look nervously around the room once more.

Miss Parker heard a small sputter. As she looked up to see the source; the source, a fire alarm sprinkler, began to rain down on her. Almost instantly, she was doused in stale pipe water. Miss Parker was too shocked to move. She slowly pushed some drenched clumps of hair off her face.

Broots, standing inside the apartment, and totally dry, tried to stifled the laugh that had replaced his fear, "It uh, it looks like that's the only sprinkler working."

Miss Parker, despite the repercussions to her sanity, looked down. The pattern on the carpet was hideously busy, but she could make out an 'X' that Jarod had subtly darkened.

"JAROD!" She yelled.

The manager, a tall lanky man, ran into the hallway. When he saw Miss Parker standing under the interior rainstorm, he stopped short and grabbed the wall to support himself.

When she heard his voice laughing at her, Miss Parker yelled at it, "Why the HELL is this the *only* sprinkler that works?"

The manager composed himself and stepped closer, but was careful to remain out of range of the falling water.

"Um, I'd guess Jarod did something. He is a plumber after all."

Miss Parker glared once more into the apartment. "Then I'm going to ring his neck."

She finally stepped off of the 'X' and out of the shower. Running a hand down each arm and through her hair, she squeezed out as much water as she could. As she passes the manager, she placed a wet hand on his chest, shoving him against the wall, "If I ever hear you laughing again, you'll wish that that wasn't the only sprinkler that worked."

Miss Parker gave him one final shove and walked down the hall with as much dignity as she could in wet heels that squeaked with each step. In her car awaited a clean (and dry) suit - a new necessity for chasing Jarod.


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