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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Disclaimer: The characters Miss Parker, Sydney, Jarod, Broots etc. and the fictional Centre, are all property of MTM and NBC Productions and used without permission. I'm not making any money out of this and no infringement is intended.
1) Paper Snowflakes (the original, isn't a sequel)
2) To Dance In An English Garden
3) A Night To Remember
4) The Trick Is To Keep Breathing
5) Life In A Heartbeart
6) With Me (the last in the series)
With Me
6/8
By Orania Lemke
The door swung open, hit the wall with an echoing bang. She walked in with long, confident strides; her face had a set, grim look. Taking off her jacket and rolling up her sleeves, Parker got to work. A single suitcase in the trunk was the result of her first shot at a packing job; this time she intended to do it decently.
An hour later, the house was noticeably bare. All pictures and personal momentos were gone, leaving a hollow feel to the place. In the middle of the living room sat Sydney's duffel bag; he could pick it up when he got back.
In her bedroom, Parker stood in front of her bed, carefully packing a small leather case. She'd moved the photo of her mother here from her purse, and was now sliding in a thin white box, containing a set of paper snowflakes. She zipped it shut, picked it up, and walked out.
Outside, the sun had just set. The car was running, and headlights illuminated the front yard. Parker made one last check to make sure that everything was in place--the trunk was filled with heavy suitcases, and nestled in the foot area of the passenger's seat was a large metal cage, holding a white rabbit. Satisfied that she hadn't forgotten anything, Parker hurried inside to the fireplace mantle, where she'd carefully placed a small wooden case. Sitting on the sofa, she nestled it on her lap, and opened it with a small exhale. Resting inside was a gun. The same gun that had killed her mother.
Moments later, Parker walked out the front door without a single look back. A car engine revved, and with a squeal of tires she was gone. Inside, lying open on the sofa, was the empty case.
~~~~~~~~~
The parking garage was all but empty. It was Friday, the rain was finally subsiding, and everyone wanted nothing more than to just go home.
She pulled up into her customary spot, patted the pocket of her trench coat, and got out. Almost out of instinct, the usual Ice Queen face appeared, and she walked in the don't-screw-with-me attitude that everyone in the Centre knew well. Security guards, oblivious to what was about to take place, merely nodded politely as she passed.
She got into the elevator without the slightest twinge, and pressed the button to go up. The metal doors slid shut, and she was on her way. The reflection in the doors caught her attention; she frowned and looked it straight in the eyes. No fear.
The doors slid open and she walked down the hallway of the executive level, heading purposely to her father's office. The fact that he'd let a newborn stay in his office was disgusting enough; knowing Raines and Lyle had access to him at any time only completed the insulted.
Her hand was on the door when an all-too-familiar voice called out from behind, "What do you think you're doing, Parker?" She turned. A few feet ahead stood Lyle, an eyebrow raised in question. "Well?"
"Lyle, you're not that much of an idiot. I came to see my brother."
"Right," he said, rolling his eyes. "Which explains the car seat in your Porsche."
"I'm not in the mood for this tonight," she warned, turning back around. "Go away."
The click of a gun froze her in her tracks. "Step away from the door, Parker."
She faced him, and smirked at the gun. "You're joking, right? Put that away."
He took a step closer, aimed the gun at her chest. "I don't take orders from you."
"Bite me, Lyle."
He continued to move towards her. "I mean it, Parker. You've pushed things too far--you think we don't know where you went today? Or this summer? Or who you spent Christmas with? Now step away from the goddamn door!"
"You know, if there's one thing I can't stand--" She whipped the gun out from her pocket, and ducked as he shot, hitting the door and sending splinters everywhere. "--it's someone trying to boss me around."
"How quaint," he grinned mirthlessly. "A stand-off."
"Yes, about damn time, isn't it?" They both kept their guns aimed steadily at each other. "Most people, discovering some unknown sibling, would be thrilled. But us, we just innately hated each other. I have to admit, I've dreamed of this chance."
"What makes you think you have a chance?"
She laughed coldly. Her gun didn't move. "Talent, dearbrother, talent. I figure it's genetic--all Parkers are naturals when it comes to killing." She lifted the gun a little, so that it now pointed at his head. "Now it's all about circumstances."
"How so?"
"We both have perfect aim, an extreme detest for each other, and loaded weapons. The way I see it, it's all a matter of the opponents. So, the question is, who's more likely to win--the cold-blooded serial killer, or the desperate sister with nothing to lose?"
A faint cry came from beyond the office door; baby Parker had been frightened by the gunshot. Lyle took advantage of the distraction, and immediately aimed his gun at her head, but she noticed the movement.
Two gunshots rang out simultaneously. The small cries from the office grew stronger; the door opened, and soon the cries faded.
The office was empty a minute later. Outside in the hallway, a limp form was on the floor, slouched against the wall, blood pooling. A few drops of crimson blood dripped onto the floor of the elevator, as the doors slid shut. When the doors reopened on the main level, there was more blood than before.
Carrying the baby wrapped in a small, blue blanket, Parker ignored the scorching pain of the wound on her shoulder, where the bullet had gone clean through. Her little brother, calm now that he was in her arms, was rested against her other shoulder.
There were no security guards around--that was when her first suspicions rose. Even knowing that shots had been fired, one guard was always appointed to stay put. She ignored the feeling though, concentrating only on the small child in her arms.
Parker turned the last corner, felt relief flood through her at the sight of the exit doors, and hurried towards them. Her palm was pressed on the handle, when a single form appeared behind her. She saw his reflection in the glass, and turned.
"I'm afraid I can't let you go," Sam informed her, aiming his weapon. "Mr. Parker's been called, and I'm to hold you until he arrives."
"Sam..."
He studied the small bundle she held with both hands, realized that she wouldn't reach for her weapon even if she could. He nodded. "Take good care of that little boy, Miss Parker."
She smiled in relief. "I will. Thank you."
"Goodbye." She turned and rushed outside, ignoring the gunshot that echoed behind her as Sam shot himself in the arm. No excuse worked with Mr. Parker, unless you had proof to back it up.
Parker tucked her brother into the car seat, shook off a dizzy feeling as blood continued to ooze out beneath her jacket and turtleneck, and drove off.
~~~~~~~~~
They were going as far above the speed limit as Parker was willing to risk with the baby in the car. She wanted to be far from that place as quickly as possible. The pavement was slick from the rainstorm that had just ended, and her headlights -on high beam- were reflecting the water. She turned the steering wheel one way, then the other, as the winding road demanded, and clenched her teeth at the pain shooting through her drained body. She looked at the radio just long enough to find a classical station to soothe the baby. Parker glanced back up, her eyes widened in shock, her foot slammed down on the brake--
--and the car screeched to a halt, just feet from the parked car in the middle of the road. Her headlights illuminated the figure of Mr. Parker.
She took a deep breath, kissed her brother on the forehead, and got out of the car.
Her father shook his head, obviously angry. "Angel--"
She pulled her gun out again, and took aim. "Move your car."
"Angel, what the hell do you think you're doing?" he hissed.
"I said, move your car!" She took two steps forward. "Do it!"
"Put that thing away," he ordered. "You two are coming back with me to the Centre."
"Oh, the hell we are," she snapped. "You're never telling me what to do again, and he's not going anywhere with you."
"I'm warning you--"
"You're warning me?" she echoed bitterly. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm the one armed here. And if you think I'll even hesitate to shoot you..."
"You won't get away with this."
"I already have!" Her shoulder was aching from the weight of the gun, but it only added to her adrenaline. "There's no one to stop me."
"I'm stopping you."
"You? You?! You're the weakest of them all!"
"How dare you--"
"What? Tell the truth? You know I'm right. You're too obsessed with your own life--nothing else matters to you. You do whatever the Centre tells you to, like some obedient little puppy, because you're so power-hungry. Hell, you even have a son just to preserve your precious legacy."
"He is my son."
"Not anymore. I'm his sister, and from now on, that's the only family from this god-forsaken place he'll ever know."
"Angel, this is your last chance. Give him to me."
"Why? So you can kill him like you killed my mother? He is the only one of us left with a soul. I will not let the Centre destroy that. They can't stop me, and you won't stop me. Not now. Your life, and your power mean too much to you. I could kill you now if I had to, and we both know that I could ruin your career at the Centre with a single phone call, thanks to all the secret deals you've made."
Mr. Parker could literally see his control crumbling.
"This. Is. Over." She walked back to her car, but paused. Her eyes moved to the woods next to her, not knowing that it was the exact spot Jarod had run out of a few years earlier, when he'd first escaped. "You once told me that we were the same." She turned back, stared him straight in the eye. "I may be a monster, but at least I don't pretend to be a saint."
She got back into the car, and drove off, swerving around Mr. Parker and his car.
They were free.
~~~~~~~~~
"I'm so glad you like the house. I was hoping that someone like you would take interest," the elderly lady confided, walking alongside Parker through the large dining room. "When our neighbors left, Leonard and I knew that if we bought it, we could find a wonderful family to move in. College couples are fine and all, but we do adore little children."
Parker smiled in response, and stopped in front of the open patio doors. "How could I not like this place? A park across the street, this wonderful view of the bay, and that amazing preschool just blocks away. Plus, the house is large enough to really become a home."
"Yes, yes, not cramped at all. You could turn the extra bedrooms into an office and guest room."
"Or a play room. He'd love that when he got older."
"Your son is such a lovely baby. Cute as a button."
Parker walked into a second bathroom, looked around with
interest. "Oh, he's not my son. He's my brother."
"Oh..." The elderly woman looked guilty. "Sorry, dear, I didn't realize."
"Don't be," she assured, walking back to the patio. "His mother died in childbirth, and we were really never that close."
"If you don't mind me asking, where's the father?"
Parker looked out into the bay. "Our father is dead." She turned, and smiled brightly at her. "So, it was $180,000, right?"
"That's right."
Parker thought to the half-million dollars she'd drained from Centre funds; Jarod wasn't the only one who knew a few account numbers. She stuck out her hand. "Well, then, you've found yourself a buyer." They smiled and shook hands.
"Wonderful! You two will make a wonderful addition to the neighborhood. On behalf of San Francisco, allow me to be the first to say welcome."
"Thank you," Parker smiled. She fiddled momentarily with the blue angel charm at the nape of her neck. "I'm sure this will make the perfect home for us."
1) Paper Snowflakes (the original, isn't a sequel)
2) To Dance In An English Garden
3) A Night To Remember
4) The Trick Is To Keep Breathing
5) Life In A Heartbeart
6) With Me (the last in the series)
6/8
By Orania Lemke
The door swung open, hit the wall with an echoing bang. She walked in with long, confident strides; her face had a set, grim look. Taking off her jacket and rolling up her sleeves, Parker got to work. A single suitcase in the trunk was the result of her first shot at a packing job; this time she intended to do it decently.
An hour later, the house was noticeably bare. All pictures and personal momentos were gone, leaving a hollow feel to the place. In the middle of the living room sat Sydney's duffel bag; he could pick it up when he got back.
In her bedroom, Parker stood in front of her bed, carefully packing a small leather case. She'd moved the photo of her mother here from her purse, and was now sliding in a thin white box, containing a set of paper snowflakes. She zipped it shut, picked it up, and walked out.
Outside, the sun had just set. The car was running, and headlights illuminated the front yard. Parker made one last check to make sure that everything was in place--the trunk was filled with heavy suitcases, and nestled in the foot area of the passenger's seat was a large metal cage, holding a white rabbit. Satisfied that she hadn't forgotten anything, Parker hurried inside to the fireplace mantle, where she'd carefully placed a small wooden case. Sitting on the sofa, she nestled it on her lap, and opened it with a small exhale. Resting inside was a gun. The same gun that had killed her mother.
Moments later, Parker walked out the front door without a single look back. A car engine revved, and with a squeal of tires she was gone. Inside, lying open on the sofa, was the empty case.
~~~~~~~~~
The parking garage was all but empty. It was Friday, the rain was finally subsiding, and everyone wanted nothing more than to just go home.
She pulled up into her customary spot, patted the pocket of her trench coat, and got out. Almost out of instinct, the usual Ice Queen face appeared, and she walked in the don't-screw-with-me attitude that everyone in the Centre knew well. Security guards, oblivious to what was about to take place, merely nodded politely as she passed.
She got into the elevator without the slightest twinge, and pressed the button to go up. The metal doors slid shut, and she was on her way. The reflection in the doors caught her attention; she frowned and looked it straight in the eyes. No fear.
The doors slid open and she walked down the hallway of the executive level, heading purposely to her father's office. The fact that he'd let a newborn stay in his office was disgusting enough; knowing Raines and Lyle had access to him at any time only completed the insulted.
Her hand was on the door when an all-too-familiar voice called out from behind, "What do you think you're doing, Parker?" She turned. A few feet ahead stood Lyle, an eyebrow raised in question. "Well?"
"Lyle, you're not that much of an idiot. I came to see my brother."
"Right," he said, rolling his eyes. "Which explains the car seat in your Porsche."
"I'm not in the mood for this tonight," she warned, turning back around. "Go away."
The click of a gun froze her in her tracks. "Step away from the door, Parker."
She faced him, and smirked at the gun. "You're joking, right? Put that away."
He took a step closer, aimed the gun at her chest. "I don't take orders from you."
"Bite me, Lyle."
He continued to move towards her. "I mean it, Parker. You've pushed things too far--you think we don't know where you went today? Or this summer? Or who you spent Christmas with? Now step away from the goddamn door!"
"You know, if there's one thing I can't stand--" She whipped the gun out from her pocket, and ducked as he shot, hitting the door and sending splinters everywhere. "--it's someone trying to boss me around."
"How quaint," he grinned mirthlessly. "A stand-off."
"Yes, about damn time, isn't it?" They both kept their guns aimed steadily at each other. "Most people, discovering some unknown sibling, would be thrilled. But us, we just innately hated each other. I have to admit, I've dreamed of this chance."
"What makes you think you have a chance?"
She laughed coldly. Her gun didn't move. "Talent, dearbrother, talent. I figure it's genetic--all Parkers are naturals when it comes to killing." She lifted the gun a little, so that it now pointed at his head. "Now it's all about circumstances."
"How so?"
"We both have perfect aim, an extreme detest for each other, and loaded weapons. The way I see it, it's all a matter of the opponents. So, the question is, who's more likely to win--the cold-blooded serial killer, or the desperate sister with nothing to lose?"
A faint cry came from beyond the office door; baby Parker had been frightened by the gunshot. Lyle took advantage of the distraction, and immediately aimed his gun at her head, but she noticed the movement.
Two gunshots rang out simultaneously. The small cries from the office grew stronger; the door opened, and soon the cries faded.
The office was empty a minute later. Outside in the hallway, a limp form was on the floor, slouched against the wall, blood pooling. A few drops of crimson blood dripped onto the floor of the elevator, as the doors slid shut. When the doors reopened on the main level, there was more blood than before.
Carrying the baby wrapped in a small, blue blanket, Parker ignored the scorching pain of the wound on her shoulder, where the bullet had gone clean through. Her little brother, calm now that he was in her arms, was rested against her other shoulder.
There were no security guards around--that was when her first suspicions rose. Even knowing that shots had been fired, one guard was always appointed to stay put. She ignored the feeling though, concentrating only on the small child in her arms.
Parker turned the last corner, felt relief flood through her at the sight of the exit doors, and hurried towards them. Her palm was pressed on the handle, when a single form appeared behind her. She saw his reflection in the glass, and turned.
"I'm afraid I can't let you go," Sam informed her, aiming his weapon. "Mr. Parker's been called, and I'm to hold you until he arrives."
"Sam..."
He studied the small bundle she held with both hands, realized that she wouldn't reach for her weapon even if she could. He nodded. "Take good care of that little boy, Miss Parker."
She smiled in relief. "I will. Thank you."
"Goodbye." She turned and rushed outside, ignoring the gunshot that echoed behind her as Sam shot himself in the arm. No excuse worked with Mr. Parker, unless you had proof to back it up.
Parker tucked her brother into the car seat, shook off a dizzy feeling as blood continued to ooze out beneath her jacket and turtleneck, and drove off.
~~~~~~~~~
They were going as far above the speed limit as Parker was willing to risk with the baby in the car. She wanted to be far from that place as quickly as possible. The pavement was slick from the rainstorm that had just ended, and her headlights -on high beam- were reflecting the water. She turned the steering wheel one way, then the other, as the winding road demanded, and clenched her teeth at the pain shooting through her drained body. She looked at the radio just long enough to find a classical station to soothe the baby. Parker glanced back up, her eyes widened in shock, her foot slammed down on the brake--
--and the car screeched to a halt, just feet from the parked car in the middle of the road. Her headlights illuminated the figure of Mr. Parker.
She took a deep breath, kissed her brother on the forehead, and got out of the car.
Her father shook his head, obviously angry. "Angel--"
She pulled her gun out again, and took aim. "Move your car."
"Angel, what the hell do you think you're doing?" he hissed.
"I said, move your car!" She took two steps forward. "Do it!"
"Put that thing away," he ordered. "You two are coming back with me to the Centre."
"Oh, the hell we are," she snapped. "You're never telling me what to do again, and he's not going anywhere with you."
"I'm warning you--"
"You're warning me?" she echoed bitterly. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm the one armed here. And if you think I'll even hesitate to shoot you..."
"You won't get away with this."
"I already have!" Her shoulder was aching from the weight of the gun, but it only added to her adrenaline. "There's no one to stop me."
"I'm stopping you."
"You? You?! You're the weakest of them all!"
"How dare you--"
"What? Tell the truth? You know I'm right. You're too obsessed with your own life--nothing else matters to you. You do whatever the Centre tells you to, like some obedient little puppy, because you're so power-hungry. Hell, you even have a son just to preserve your precious legacy."
"He is my son."
"Not anymore. I'm his sister, and from now on, that's the only family from this god-forsaken place he'll ever know."
"Angel, this is your last chance. Give him to me."
"Why? So you can kill him like you killed my mother? He is the only one of us left with a soul. I will not let the Centre destroy that. They can't stop me, and you won't stop me. Not now. Your life, and your power mean too much to you. I could kill you now if I had to, and we both know that I could ruin your career at the Centre with a single phone call, thanks to all the secret deals you've made."
Mr. Parker could literally see his control crumbling.
"This. Is. Over." She walked back to her car, but paused. Her eyes moved to the woods next to her, not knowing that it was the exact spot Jarod had run out of a few years earlier, when he'd first escaped. "You once told me that we were the same." She turned back, stared him straight in the eye. "I may be a monster, but at least I don't pretend to be a saint."
She got back into the car, and drove off, swerving around Mr. Parker and his car.
They were free.
~~~~~~~~~
"I'm so glad you like the house. I was hoping that someone like you would take interest," the elderly lady confided, walking alongside Parker through the large dining room. "When our neighbors left, Leonard and I knew that if we bought it, we could find a wonderful family to move in. College couples are fine and all, but we do adore little children."
Parker smiled in response, and stopped in front of the open patio doors. "How could I not like this place? A park across the street, this wonderful view of the bay, and that amazing preschool just blocks away. Plus, the house is large enough to really become a home."
"Yes, yes, not cramped at all. You could turn the extra bedrooms into an office and guest room."
"Or a play room. He'd love that when he got older."
"Your son is such a lovely baby. Cute as a button."
Parker walked into a second bathroom, looked around with
interest. "Oh, he's not my son. He's my brother."
"Oh..." The elderly woman looked guilty. "Sorry, dear, I didn't realize."
"Don't be," she assured, walking back to the patio. "His mother died in childbirth, and we were really never that close."
"If you don't mind me asking, where's the father?"
Parker looked out into the bay. "Our father is dead." She turned, and smiled brightly at her. "So, it was $180,000, right?"
"That's right."
Parker thought to the half-million dollars she'd drained from Centre funds; Jarod wasn't the only one who knew a few account numbers. She stuck out her hand. "Well, then, you've found yourself a buyer." They smiled and shook hands.
"Wonderful! You two will make a wonderful addition to the neighborhood. On behalf of San Francisco, allow me to be the first to say welcome."
"Thank you," Parker smiled. She fiddled momentarily with the blue angel charm at the nape of her neck. "I'm sure this will make the perfect home for us."
