Miss Parker felt emotionally drained when she stepped into the hall and softly closed the door behind her. For a moment she leaned back against her fists that had firmly closed around the doorknob and took a deep shuddering breath. She had never liked trips down memory lane. Maybe that was because memory lane -in her case- was usually not anymore pleasant than your average dark horrormovie alley.

1. Her bottom lip still felt sore and she carefully grazed the wound with her teeth, then winced slightly. At least it had helped her to establish contact with the little girl. Amanda hadn't spoken a word, but after Miss Parker had simply held her for a while, she had fallen asleep.

Parker listened to the silence and then took in the warm glow from the nightlights that were visible through the half-opened doors of children's rooms around her.

She must have been in there for hours, she now noticed.

After a while she hadn't been able to tell how quickly time passed by. She had been absorbed in memories of her own childhood trauma. Of how she had avoided the elevators for weeks at length, how every noise that even closely resembled a gunshot had startled her. The horror was still very present in her mind and the old fear welled up. But then there was the constant breathing of the child in her arms and when she had caressed her hair and held her safe, she knew she had in a way also been holding the frightened child inside herself.

She slowly went for the stairs, bracing herself for the inevitable cheerfulness of Jenny and the fact that she would have to return to the accent that she had dropped while talking to Amanda.

The lower hallway was lit and she could see pictures of the children with a tall middle-aged woman with a shock of grey hair and laughter lines around her eyes. Curiously, the woman reminded Miss Parker of Sydney in a way. Not that she looked masculine in any way, but even on the pictures she radiated the same comforting kindness that she had once found in Sydney. Suddenly a pang of longing for her older friend struck her. She didn't just want to see him, but also talk to him and let herself be comforted just like when she had been a young girl.

Miss Parker shook her head. Being comforted was a thing of the past. Hadn't experience taught her how elemental it was to remain independent from others? The moment she gave in to her stupid longing for nearness she would put the person in danger of the Centre and herself in danger of losing yet another loved one.

She opened the door to the nearest room behind which she detected the murmur of voices and stepped into a kitchen that had large windows into the garden. The woman from the pictures stood in front of a sink with Jarod cleaning an assortment of colorful mugs that were adorned with flowers and teddybears. A little bit too cute for Miss Parker's liking but since they were obiously intended for the children…

"Doctor Summer!" The grey-haired woman turned around. She was a little older than on the pictures - even closer to Sydney's age, Miss Parker noticed. She dried her slim hands on a tea towel and shook Miss Parker's hand firmly.

Miss Parker couldn't help but smile when she looked into intelligent green eyes that looked even kinder in reality.

"My name is Angela Gardner. I'm the manager around here."

She handed her a green cup that had obviously been painted by a child and grinned. That grin was the only thing that kept Miss Parker from commenting on the artwork and calling it the work of an amateur.

"We drink coffee around here at all hours."

Miss Parker took a sip and tried not to look as distraught as she really was. Even if she hadn't been playing a role, she wouldn't have wanted anyone to see just how much the little girl's predictament got to her. Deep down she knew that she wasn't really unsympathetic but that she was quite good at blocking those feelings out. Except when she knew too well how it felt.

Back then when she had just lost her mother and her father had been distant, she had read the phrase that someone's heart was bleeding in a book. She had imagined the blood to gush out of her heart and soak her clothes when the grief had been so strong that she had barely been able to contain it. And somehow it had helped to imagine it pouring out although she hadn't been able to show it to anyone. Her father had told her firmly to stop crying when she had tried to find comfort with him once, that she was a Parker and that she would carry her grief with her head held high…

"Doctor Summer?"

She snapped out of her contemplations only when she had heard the name for the third time.

"It's getting to you as it's getting to us, isn't it?" Jarod asked.

Miss Parker looked over at him, then nodded.

"It's a severe case," she tried to sound like the professional she wasn't.

"That's true," Angela said and handed Miss Parker a coldpack that was wrapped in a teatowel without being asked which was accepted gratefully.

"I'm sorry. I should have offered the ice to you before you could burn your lip on the coffee again," she said apologetically.

"Never mind…" Miss Parker murmured. She still thought of the little girl in the bed upstairs that was still holding to her teddybear.

"I hear you are staying with Jarod?" Angela asked and Miss Parker shot a look at Jarod for confirmation, then nodded.

"Isn't it a charming house?" Angela asked and Miss Parker was almost amused to see Jarod wince behind her back. He seemed to be thinking of her feelings for once…

"Yes. Beautiful," Miss Parker said, hoping that she would drop the topic.

"I was there once, you know," Angela said and laughed. "Jarod invited us all round for dinner when he first moved in."

Miss Parker imagined the happy dinner parties that might have taken place had she been living there with Thomas. Well, she probably wouldn't have hosted any since she had never had many friends.

"Well, you must be tired. Jet-lag and all!" Jarod said, obviously out to rescue her from any more conversation on that topic.

"I would indeed like to sleep for a bit," Miss Parker said and found herself smiling apologetically at Angela. Something she rarely -correction- never did. She usually told herself that she did not need to apologize to anyone.

Angela returned the smile warmly.

"I understand. I hope Jarod takes good care of you."

Miss Parker caught Jarod's chuckle from the corners of her eyes and shrugged.

"He's doing his best."

"How did you do it?" Jarod asked as soon as he had started the engine.

Miss Parker leaned back and enjoyed the fact that for once, he was the one asking that question.

"You should know, Jarod," she teased him, then added a lot more solemnly: "You were there too."

Jarod's face looked blank for a moment, then he shook his head. "Enlighten me."

So Miss Parker took him back to the afternoon months after her mother had been killed, when she had found herself faced with the elevator once again. Her thoughtless father had told her to wait almost in front of it, once again forgetting how much she dreaded it and had gone to a collegue's office.

Miss Parker hadn't noticed at first because most of the Centre's floors looked almost identical. She had trusted her father not to bring her close to the place where her mother had been shot down brutally and thus been unaware of her surroundings for a moment.

She had only realized on which floor she was when the elevator doors had opened and she had seen the two bulletholes that were still visible in the back of the elevator.

The Centre was very careful to not allow anything to give away the true nature of the place on the floors to which business partners were taken, but around here they were remarkably cheap.

She had looked up from the book she had been reading while she waited for her father when two Sweepers had stepped out. It had felt as if the holes were clawing at her and she dropped the book in horror. One of the Sweepers, unaware of what was happening to her, had picked it up for her and returned it but she had never looked at him again.

Her gaze had been fixed at the empty elevator just that to her, it wasn't empty. In her mind she still saw her mother's dead body in a puddle of blood.

A moment later she had found herself right inside the elevator, exactly where she hadn't been allowed to go, from where the men had held her back on the day of her mother's death, where she had so desperately wanted to be.

Now she stood there and in her imagination blood was all around her. She had been so frightened and the tears had been streaming down her face but she had been there. She had, if involuntarily, faced her demons and thus diminished them in power.

For the first time in her life Miss Parker had felt truly in control. She could do it. This was just an elevator and even if it bore the most horrifying pain imaginable, it was just that.

She could stand here and gain strength from the sight that although everything had been sprayed with blood and it had felt as if the elevator would never really be the same again, it had been cleaned.

Miss Parker had wanted to appear like that elevator to the outside world. To lock away the pain she felt and not let it errupt in panic attacks at the sight of this place.

She had cried during the whole revelation and when her father had return hurriedly, he had advised the Centre maintance to immediatley repair the bullet holes. To her, they had never vanished.

When she had calmed down a little, she had seen Jarod who had tried to get to her to comfort her, but had been held back by Sydney. Sydney… who had known even back then that sometimes you have to face what you fear most in order to overcome it.

Raindrops were running down the windows in quick succession and made a soft tapping sound that provided for some intimacy between them.

"Do you remember now?" she asked after she had finished her story.

"I do," Jarod said quietly. "I wanted to hold you and back then I didn't understand why Sydney didn't allow me to do so."

Miss Parker shook her head. "Until I saw that girl's reaction to the blood I didn't either."

"But you did now," he said softly and they both knew what he meant.

"You mean some part of me has to be human?" she joked, suddenly uncomfortable with the intense look in his eyes.

"Yeah," he answered and the moment was broken. Now that he had ceased to look at her with that appreciative look in his eyes, seemed to have actually seen her as a breathing feeling human being instead of an object he taunted with weird games and cruel revelations she already missed it.

"I need dinner," she said brusquely. "I haven't eaten anything all day."

"That's not good for your ulcer," he reminded her.

"Neither are you," she said and opened the car door to step into the driveway.

Jarod followed her and unlocked the door for her.

"I should have some pizza in the fridge."

Miss Parker raised a disapproving eyebrow.

"I know you did spy on me while I was in the bathtub. Do you think I maintain that figure because I stuff my face with fastfood?"

Jarod chuckled. "Ah, sorry. I forgot what a princess you are."

She carelessly dropped her coat onto a chair when she followed him from the hallway into the kitchen. "This isn't about being a princess. There has been heard of of fat princesses. It's just that I do not like to cram myself with unneccessary calories. A concept you have obviously never heard of."

Jarod turned around to her and gestured at his trim body. "But it doesn't hurt, does it?"

She made a show of looking him up and down in a bid to prevent him from returning to serious topics and found herself liking what she saw.

"Not bad," she said and playfully bit her lip. A second later she wished she hadn't done it. Especially when Jarod broke into laughter at the look on her face.

She turned away from him to hide her embarassment and opened the fridge.

"Do you have anything drinkable?"

"Water? Coke? Juice?" he asked.

"I was thinking more in term of wine, scotch, vodka," she replied dryly.

"Your ulcer…" he reminded her and she turned around to snap at him but found only a worried look on his face. Did he actually care? She had put his constantly reminding her of what she should or should not do because of her ulcer down to his trying to annoy her but now found herself wrong.

Concern for her wellbeing always embarrassed her, especially when it came from unexpected sources, so she avoided his gaze and murmured something along the lines of "stop that….".

Miss Parker walked over to the couch and sat down.

"I could make some pasta!" Jarod called from the kitchen in order to lighten the dark mood that had suddenly settled on her.

"Sure," she replied and pulled her knees towards her while staring out of the window.

"Does it ever stop raining?" she asked.

"Not before it snows," Jarod said and looked into the garden himself. "I'm afraid November is one of the worst months around here."

"Where isn't it?"

Jarod walked back to the stove and busied himself making some pasta. Miss Parker was unusually quiet and even refrained from commenting when he dropped a fork.

He had been impressed at how she had handled the situation with Amanda today and at how gentle she could be if she wanted to be. One thing, however, had both unsettled and astonished him: Although Miss Parker had probably not noticed it herself, she had been playing her role very well. Not once had she failed to use the German accent she had developed a knack for quickly, nor had she behaved as if she wasn't Susanne Sommer in front of anyone other than him in any way during the whole day.

Had she just gained experience in not letting people see who she really was or did she have more talent as a Pretender than he had cared to expect?

He had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't heard her approach until she spoke: "Oh how very gourmet of you," she said.

"Go away or you will have to go to bed without dinner!"

Miss Parker gave a snort and turned around to walk back to the sofa, then stopped dead in her tracks.

Without warning she suddenly lurched at him and tackled him down to the floor with surprising strength. Jarod gave a shocked scream when his jaw connected with the kitchen tiles.

A split second later a shower of broken glass went down at them and in his blurred vision Jarod could see a large stone that had been hauled and now crashed into the wall where he had just been standing.