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Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from "The Pretender" Steven and Craig do. This is a piece of non profit fanfiction and there are no copyright infringements intended, so please don't sue. The story is a work of fiction. Names, character, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental ( I thought I'd use the official version this time even though it doesn't sound better..)
I started this story many years ago when I still was a young girl (I guess you could call 14 young…) and found it in my drawer at Christmas Eve in 2000 ( a little cleaning attack in my home). At first I just stared at the disk, not knowing what to make of it but then I started reading and I thought that this was the perfect background for a tP story. Some changes here, some changes there and suddenly my muse seemed to be back to help me… And then she was gone again and the story stayed on my harddrive in some forgotten corner. When I started again in 2005 it seemed like ages ago that I had started something like this. It took quite long to translate the original story (about 80 pages) from German to Endlish and I'm not sure if this is good or bad (but it's written..) Enough babbling, anyway, enjoy.

Title: M A F I A C O N N E C T I O N S 1/?
By: Chris
Rated: PG-13
Category: P
Spoilers: None
Keywords: x-over Pretender + CSI
Summary: Jarod wants to save a woman from getting caught between the lines but he's too late. She survives but Jarod tries to eliminate the mafia-like organization that did this. He gets caught between love and his desire to save the world.

There are pretenders among us, geniuses with the ability to become anyone they want to be. In 1963 a corporation known as the Centre isolated a young pretender named Jarod and exploited his genius for their research.
Then one day their pretender ran away.


Two women were sitting on their horses and were racing along the beach. Their hair was flowing with the cool morning breeze. It was still misty and the sun was just rising over the ocean. They slowed down and enjoyed the first rays of the morning sun.
"Olga, you're away too often and you leave me alone," Carolyn Franklin said.
"I know. We should go out together", Olga sighed, "But I don't have enough time. The business isn't running itself. But I promise to be home more often in the next months, OK?"
"You're hiding something, Olga, what is it?"
Olga looked at her adoptive daughter and was wondering how she could possibly know.
"You're right, I have kept a little secret but I think you'll like it."
"What is it? Something for me?" the 14-year-old asked, hope gleaming in her eyes.
"No, it's for me. Want to know what it is?"
"Yes, please, what is it?"
"Carolyn, I'm pregnant."
Instead of waiting for an answer Olga pushed her horse into gallop and sped away. Flabbergasted Carolyn looked after her, than she followed her.
"Olga, wait for me. What did you say? You can't be serious, can you?"
"Yes, I am."
"You've had a miscarriage before, how can you be sure that it will be alright this time?"
"I just know it. It was just because I was taking too many medication at that time and I will not make that mistake again. It can’t be that difficult to live without medicaments for eight or seven months. And only because it went wrong once it hasn’t to be the same way again, has it?"
"Well, yes, but I’m not convinced yet. What do you do when you suffer from any pain?"
"Live with it. I will live without medication until the child is born. It’s only 7 and a half months left."
The sun had fully risen and it started to get warmer with the minute.
"Let’s go back, I have to go to school."


Jarod looked around. He had just exited the bus which had brought him to Los Angeles. The area was known as a rich part of the city. It was at the coast with a wonderful view over the ocean. He looked down at the picture in his hands. A woman in her mid-forties, long brown hair. She was very thin and had remarkably brown eyes. She looked a little stubborn but he knew that she had to be because she was working in a business with mostly men. He had to find her and try to win her trust. He knew, from a former pretend, that there were many people who would like to see her dead and he had to prevent that from happening. She was the mother of a young girl and she was pregnant. He didn't know how he got to know that she was pregnant but something deep inside him had told him. Maybe it was the Parker gift, the inner voice. He didn't know everything he wanted to know about her, but he had to find out to be able to help her.


They returned to the shelter and gave the horses into the groom’s caring hands.
"It’s quite late. Do you want me to give you a lift to school?"
Carolyn nodded and ran up the stairs to her room to get dressed. She came back downstairs only minutes later. Her mother looked at her, not saying a word. She didn't like the way Carolyn dressed, but she thought better then tell her.
"It’s about time. I have other things to do as well."
They went to the car and Olga got inside it. It seemed out of place, this little red car compared to the villa they were living in.
"Why don't you buy another car? Something bigger and more expensive? You've got that one for eight years now, you've told me."
"And only because it's old it's not good enough to give you a ride to school and back?"
"Of course it is, but the other girls--"
"That's it. Well, you have the choice of getting accustomed to THIS car or you'll take the bus again, alright?"
Carolyn nodded. She didn't quite understand how someone with lots of money could possibly like to drive a car like that. She better started thinking about something else to make her mother buy a new car.

"Thanks for the lift," Carolyn said when they arrived at the school and got out of the car. Olga smiled and drove on.
"That's not the way home," Carolyn thought when she looked after the car. Later she'd know that this had been the moment which had changed her life as well.

Jarod looked around. He was standing next to a shopping center and something seemed to be going on in there. He kept standing there and just watched the doors.

Olga wanted to do some shopping before going home again. She stopped her car in front of a supermarket and got out of her car. She wanted to open the shop's door when a man came out, running, beads of sweat on his forehead.
"Don't go in!" he screamed at her, "There's a madman with a gun inside."
Jarod looked at the woman who had gotten out of her car. What a wonderful coincidence, he didn't have to search for her. He just had to follow her. He looked around and looked directly at a car rental. He crossed the street and wanted to get himself a car.

People came running out of the super market, screaming, stumbling, in one large crowd.
"Run, ma'am," a woman screamed at her and wanted to drag her away from the entrance but it was too late. A man with a gun came out the door and grabbed Olga by the arm.
The police squadron, one of the shop assistants had called arrived and they filed out of their cars, surrounding the place. The stranger pulled Olga with him as he wanted to retreat into the safety of the shop.
"Don't move!" one of the policemen screamed but the man didn't react. He held Olga in a tight grip and kept pulling her towards the door. He pointed a gun at her head and threatened to kill the lady if they didn't let him go.
Jarod had watched the whole scene. They had been faster than he had thought. The people were a huddled mass somewhere in the corner of the parking lot, not daring even to whisper. His mind was racing how he cold help them.
Suddenly there was a police officer behind the stranger, with his gun pointed at the man's head.
"Put down your weapon and let her go," he said, his voice trembling slightly. The stranger let go of Olga's arm and laid down the weapon. Slowly Olga walked away from him. She moved faster the further away she got. Most people stared at the woman, not noticing that the stranger slowly pulled another gun from his pocket. When he was sure that nobody watched him he raised the weapon and fired twice. Olga broke down in mid-walk.
Jarod pulled out his weapon and fired just as the stranger wanted to fire into the mass. He broke down and didn't move. The police man looked down at the lifeless body in front of him, then he looked at Jarod, then at Olga. He had thought to have the situation under control. Now the man in front of him seemed to be dead and it hadn't been him who had fired. Jarod knelt down beside the woman and tried to stop the bleeding.
"Someone call an ambulance!" he screamed at the people who were gathering around him, staring at the blood that started to spread on the floor.


"Be careful," Jarod said as two paramedics lifted her onto a stretcher. The bullets have hit her hard. If we move her too much it is possible that she'll die under our hands. And she's pregnant."
"Are you sure?" the Doctor asked. She looked down at the lifeless body.
"No, I am not, but I thought I've heard her talk about it recently."
"OK, we'll see. Thank God she's unconscious. She won't feel the pain."
But Olga was still conscious.
"My baby," she whispered and the Doctor heard her.
"You were right," she said and turned to Jarod.
"Rick, have you found out who she is?"
"Yes, her name is Olga Franklin. Here's a piece of paper where she writes that she doesn't want any medication."
"Who are YOU, by the way?" she asked Jarod.
"I am Doctor Jarod Partridge."
"You're a medical Doctor?"
Jarod only nodded. So much for a rented car, and so much for protecting this woman. He had been too late, or maybe this had been just a bad coincidence, but he had to do everything in his power to save her. He climbed into the ambulance and closed the doors behind him.
"There has to be a way to give her medication, or else she'll die. She doesn't want to risk anything concerning her baby. But who can guarantee that the baby's still alive?" Jarod wondered, "One of the bullets has hit her above the hip and it is possible that it has killed the fetus. We can't take the risk of letting her die. We have to set her survival as our highest goal. No matter what she wants!"
"But she has written this note." Rick, the paramedic, protested.
"If she dies we'll get a trial because we haven't helped her, because we haven't saved her life. What's more important: her life or the note?" Jarod answered, even though Rick had addressed the Doctor.
"You're right," Rick admitted, "Her life's more important."
He threw the note into the bin's direction. He didn't hit the bin, but he didn't care.


Slowly the woman opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. An unfamiliar face looked at her. She heard a voice but she didn't understand a word. She didn't know what had happened. Where was she? What had happened? And most of all, WHO was she? All the questions whirled around her mind as she kept staring at the ceiling.
She tried to remember what had happened and some fragments of her memory came back to her mind. She remembered having a daughter whom she had given a lift to school and she knew that she was pregnant.
"Ma'am, can you hear me?" she heard a distant voice. Someone took her hand and squeezed it. She returned the squeeze and tried to find out who this man was. Once again she saw his face and now she could see him clearly, but she still had no idea who he was. He had dark eyes, dark short hair and an assuring smile. Suddenly all the memories were back and she remembered everything that had happened. She wanted to move but a stabbing pain made her stop. She moaned and felt the prick of a needle on her upper arm. The strange man looked down on her until his features seemed to melt with the white color of the ceiling. She had to think of her family and her unborn child until she fell into a deep coma again.

After every operation the ambulance was cleaned and so was the one in which they had transported Olga Franklin. The missing medicaments got restored and the bin was emptied. One of the cleaners found the note which Rick had thrown away so carelessly. He read the not and had no idea if the Doctor had read it or if it had just found its way out of the patient's pocket. He put the note into his own pocket and took it to the Doctor who had been aboard when the ambulance had arrived.
"Doctor Miller, have you read this note?" he asked, showing her the piece of paper,
"Not for myself, why?"
"I think it's important."
She took the note from his hand and her eyes moved over the lines. That couldn't be true. Coleman had only read half of the note.
"Get Rick Coleman. I need to talk to him!"
Scared by the sudden outburst of his superior the cleaner retreated from her presence to search for Rick Coleman.
"Ricki, Doc Miller wants to see you at once. You have missed something quite important. She seemed furious."
Rick Coleman had no idea what he had done wrong. She could never have found out that he was hiding something.

"Coleman, what have you thought by reading only one half of the note? You have kept the most important part to yourself. Do you know what that means for the life of Mrs. Franklin?"
"What the heck are you talking about?"
"Stop playing dumb. You know exactly what I mean! The note says that the woman who has been shot was allergic to penicillin and another kind of painkiller. Why didn't you tell me?"
He was trying to find an excuse. Doctor Miller interpreted his silence in the right way. Before Coleman could utter a word she took the not from his hands.
"You're fired, Coleman."
Rick stared at her.
"That's a joke, is it?"
"No, that's no joke. You're fired. Leave this hospital immediately and don't you ever dare to come back!"
He had known that there would be a certain risk of getting caught, but he had never thought that she would fire him immediately. He hadn't told his superior about her allergic reactions because he had been told not to. Mrs. Franklin had fired his father from his job and because of that he hated her. He didn't know that his father had been drunk at work and that someone had been injured because he hadn't done his job properly. He had been searching for a way to pay it back to her until he had joined a secret organization which called itself "The Community Of Angels". He knew that the name had to do with Los Angeles and he knew that they were planning to erase the high-society of the city and establish a kind of anarchy in the whole city. He had joined the group because Mrs. Franklin was part of this high society and the only thing he wanted was to see her dead. He had been afraid to murder her himself so he had been searching for another way. This other way had cost him his job. But he didn't care. Mrs. Franklin was close to death and that was all that counted for him.


Jarod looked around his new office. They had offered him a job at the hospital and he gladly accepted. He had the chance of being close to Mrs. Franklin and they hadn't suspected anything so far. He had just finished to create himself a new identity and now he was looking forward to his new job. He had to win the sympathy of Mrs. Franklin's family and he had to find a way to tell them of the threat from the "Community Of Angels". But first of all he had to secure her survival.
It knocked at the door and Doctor Miller, the woman who had asked him to work at the hospital, entered.
"I have just found out that someone was trying to kill Mrs. Franklin," she said, "Remember the note the paramedic found in her pocket?"
Jarod nodded.
"He only read the first lines aloud. The following lines said that she is allergic to penicillin and ibuprofen. I haven't found out what happens if she gets those medicaments. I haven't found her daughter yet."
"I know where she is. I'll talk to her, if you don't mind."
"You know her?"
"She should be home right now," Jarod said instead of an answer, "If you don't mind I'll meet her there. It might be easier for her to learn what happened in a familiar surrounding."
"It's alright, Dr. Partridge."
"There's only one problem, I don't have a car. Is there a car rental nearby?"
"No, but you can use my car, if you don't mind that it's a small one."
Jarod laughed.
"Not at all. I don't like big cars."
She handed him the keys and they walked down the corridor. When they passed the window she pointed outside and showed him a small blue car.
"That's the one. Be careful, he doesn't like strangers."
"The car's name is Kevin. Take care."
"I'll try. Thank you again."
He went down the stairs and out of the hospital. He looked up at the large building. The color reminded him of the Centre building, but somehow he felt home, even though he had been there for only half a day.


He stopped the car in front of the large house. The gravel crunched under his feet as he walked up to the entrance. He knocked at the door and a young woman opened. She was about Mrs. Franklin's size, had short brown hair and piercing brown eyes. She cocked her head when she saw this man standing in front of her door.
"Are you Silvia Franklin?" Jarod asked and she nodded. "There's something I have to tell you. May I come in?"
"Who are you?"
"Sorry, I haven't introduced myself. My name's Dr. Jarod Partridge."
"Come in but please be silent. My father's asleep."
"I'm not, honey. Who's there?" a deep voice came from the living room.
They entered the living room and Jarod saw an elderly man sitting in a huge armchair.
"My name's Jarod Partridge," Jarod introduced himself again.
"Michael Franklin. Take a seat. How can we help you?"
"I have to tell you that your wife has had an accident earlier this morning."
Silvia and her father grew pale.
"Dad? DAD!?"
Mr. Franklin clutched his chest with his hands and his face was ashen. Jarod jumped up just in time to catch him as he slid down to the floor. His breathing was irregular, but his heartbeat was steady. He advised Silvia to hold his head up and he got up to get the med kit he had seen on the backseat from the car. Silvia stared after him but she was glad that a doctor was with her.

"Call an ambulance, just in case. He's stable for now. It was only a small attack but I can't be sure that he's alright. At the hospital we will take care of him properly."
"I know it's not the best moment to ask this question, but what happened to my mother?"
"She was shot. Did you know that she was pregnant?"
"Mom, pregnant? No, I didn't know. How is she and how is the baby?"
"I can't tell you right now. There has been another accident with one of the paramedics. He has tried to kill your mother."
"Kill my mother? Oh my God. In what way?"
"You know that she's allergic to ibuprofen and penicillin?"
"Yes, I know that."
"The paramedic didn't tell us, even though he had the note in his hands. He got fired right away, but I need to know what happens, when she gets these medicaments."
Silvia stared at him, tears in her eyes. Before she could answer the doorbell rang. She looked down at her father, who was lying on the floor, unconscious then she got up to open the door. Two paramedics entered with a stretcher to bring Mr. Franklin to hospital.
"Wanna come with us?" one of the paramedics asked.
"She'll be with me in the car," Jarod said before Silvia could answer. They nodded and pushed the stretcher into the waiting ambulance. Jarod helped Silvia to gather some clothes for her parents and Silvia told the house maid to look after everything. They got into the car and drove to the hospital.
"You haven't answered my question yet."
"I don't know what happens. This only happened once. She was unconscious for nearly three days."
"Do you know anything else, what might be happening?"
"I'm not sure. The Doc said that it might be that she has problems breathing and that, if--" she stopped to get a hanky from her pocket, "If she gets these medicaments in high doses she might even die."
"We have used a painkiller that contains ibuprofen because we didn't know. When I left the hospital she had regained consciousness but fell into a coma again after she was given another dose of painkillers. We really should have cared better."
"I'm not blaming you for not knowing. It's just-- somehow I feel responsible, even though I'm not."
Jarod stared at the street in front of him. Silvia reminded him of Miss Parker, he didn't know why. She was about her age, that was all.
"Would you do me a favor?" Silvia asked.
"My sister is still at school. Could we pick her up, before we go to the hospital?"
Jarod nodded.
"Don't you want to see your parents as soon as possible?"
"Yes and no. As long as I haven't seen them like that I can suppress it. I need to see my sister as long as I can still control my feelings. She's very sensible, she has never seen our parents ill."
"She's not your sister, isn't she?" Jarod asked.
"How do you know?"
"I have done some research. There is much I have to tell you when this is all over but right now it's better if you know only as much as the others do. I'm sorry about that but it's really necessary."

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