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With a Wink and a Nod - by MMB


"And you honestly think you're going to get her to agree to this?" The silver-haired psychiatrist stared up into the determined face of his younger colleague with amazement. "You know as well as I do how much she hates this time of year..."

Broots was unfazed. "That's only because she's never really had anybody to spend the holidays WITH, Syd - not since her mother... I mean, she goes to the Centre Christmas party for a few minutes - just long enough for the gift exchange - and then goes home to an empty house. I think that it's about time that you and I changed that. And you know as well as I do that you and I are about the ONLY ones who could get away with it - well, actually, you're the only one..." Broots smiled sheepishly. "I mean she at least listens to you..."

Sydney blinked and shook his head. It was an interesting idea, but... "What does Debbie say about this? Don't you normally go see your parents..."

"They took a cruise this year and won't be home until a couple of days before New Year's," the balding computer tech explained quickly. "Face it, this year there are three houses - yours included, if you don't mind me saying so - where the personal celebrations are going to be kinda lean. I'm saying we throw our lot in together and have a small group celebration of our own."

Sydney smiled gently. "I appreciate being invited to help you and Debbie celebrate - and I'll admit that joining you two will make for a much more satisfying time than sitting around my house tending a fire and reading psychiatric journals..."

"Good God, Syd! Is that what you'd be..." Broots was aghast.

"The question is," the psychiatrist added insistently, taking charge of the conversation and carefully putting it back on topic again, "whether we can talk Miss Parker into participating as well."

"Talk Miss Parker into what?" The woman in question breezed through the doorway of Sydney's Sim Lab office and halted with a hand at her hips to stare at her two colleagues. "Does this have something to do with Jarod?" she demanded of Sydney, who only shook his head at her sedately. "Then the answer is 'no,'" she tossed out tiredly. "Miss Parker isn't interested in playing reindeer games this year."

"I was just thinking..." Broots summoned up his courage and spoke out without the customary stammer, "Debbie and I are staying home this year, and Sydney doesn't head out to the Mount Pleasant home anymore... So I was thinking what if we all just..."

Miss Parker's expression hadn't lightened at all. "What? That we all get together at Miss Parker's for holiday cheer?" Her voice dripped sarcasm. "I don't think so..."

"Actually, Miss Parker, the venue would be my home," Sydney spoke up calmly from his chair. "I have more room and am more centrally situated..."

Broots smiled in surprise at the sudden offer, knowing that Sydney entertained in his home even less often that Miss Parker did when her father was alive. It was an incredible gesture of support and friendship from an intensely private man. He turned that smile on Miss Parker. "Having a nice meal with good friends is much better than sitting around by yourself, isn't it?"

Miss Parker's eyebrow exploded upward. "Whoever said that I intended to sit around by myself? Is it so difficult to believe that I might have already made plans?"

"Indeed?" Sydney leaned forward, interested. "You're planning to spend the holiday with a friend after all?"

"Don't act so surprised, Freud," she commented caustically. "Just because I don't share every new development in my life doesn't mean they don't happen." She pointed to his desk. "Now, back to business, boys. IS there any word on Jarod?"

Both men against shook their heads. "Not a peep," Broots answered far too contentedly for Miss Parker's liking.

"Don't sound so thrilled, Scooby. Nothing from Jarod means the possibility that you'll have to spend part of Christmas Day HERE, checking all your listening posts..."

"Parker," Sydney chided her and shook his head at her. "Decline the invitation if you must, but don't ruin others' plans needlessly."

She turned hard, steel-grey eyes on the older man. "Do you want the order to come from me now, or in a phone call from Lyle at the time?"

"I think I'd rather take my chances on the phone call," Broots mumbled defiantly.

"Fine." It was as if all the inclination to engage in verbal sparring matches had evaporated. "I'll see you both at the party later, then." She walked briskly toward the office door, and then turned as an afterthought. "But thanks for the invitation anyway, Broots, Sydney."

"Sure," Broots shrugged, disappointed.

"Think it over, Parker," Sydney replied in a quiet tone. "And come anyway, if you want. Bring your friend."

At that, Miss Parker shook her head firmly. "I don't think he's the kind to enjoy groups of people he doesn't know. Thanks anyway." She walked across the Sim Lab with her heels clicking resolutely into the distance.

"Do you think she really has..." Broots began.

"I hope for her sake that she does," Sydney stated thoughtfully, looking to where she'd disappeared through the Sim Lab door. "These holidays alone have never done her any good at all."

~~~~~~~~

As had been their habit for a number of years now, Broots and Sydney tended to stand close together as the cacophony of voices of their fellow Centre employees rose and fell around them. The huge cafeteria on the sublevel had been decorated with the tinsel and holly, as usual, with a beautiful and festive tree standing in the far corner of the room with the stack of gift exchange packages in bright colored chaos at its feet. There was the usual bowl of spiked punch on the main buffet table, and a smaller table set to the side a little further away from the action that held a bowl of punch that had been spared the run-in with the rum bottle.

"Get a load of that," Broots bumped Sydney's arm and then pointed to direct the psychiatrist's attention.

Standing apart from the rest, Miss Parker was arguing quietly and vehemently with Mr. Raines and her brother. Lyle was doing the greater share of the arguing with his sister, with Raines obviously having trouble breathing and only speaking up from time to time. Sydney watched the little drama for a long moment, trying to decide who was getting the upper hand and winning the discussion - finding it difficult from the thoroughly unhappy expressions on both Miss Parker's as well as Lyle's face to tell for sure.

"I wonder what they're fighting about? It doesn't happen in public like that very often," Broots commented and then took a sip from his punch to hide the fact of even having spoken.

Sydney shook his head. "I'm sure I've no idea," he responded with a quick frown. "I'm hoping that she's arguing to take a little more time off than just the one day to spend with this friend of hers, however. She's been working altogether too hard these past few weeks."

The two men watched the intense verbal battle until a sweeper stepped up next to the balding ghoul tethered to the oxygen tank and breathed a few, short words in his ear. Raines looked up at the sweeper and nodded, and then made a statement that Sydney could tell had Miss Parker positively fuming. Then Raines gestured abruptly to Lyle, and the two men simply turned their backs on Miss Parker and walked away from her to the front of the room while the sweeper began whistling and making bids to get the crowd's attention to begin the gift exchange process.

"Uh-oh," Broots murmured softly, and Sydney tore his eyes away from the commotion at the front of the room to look at what the computer technician was looking at. Miss Parker's face looked as if a storm cloud had come over it, and she had a hand held delicately to her temples hiding her eyes the way she often did when attacked by one of her sudden migraines. "What do you think..."

"You stay here," Sydney directed a little more sharply than he intended, "and I'll see if we can help. I'll let you know if it's safe," he added in a more congenial tone. "Better that she bite my head off without adding yours to the mix."

"It's your funeral," Broots agreed and then watched in trepidation as the older man made his way resolutely across the room.

Sydney considered addressing her as he approached, but saw she wasn't paying much attention to the people milling around her. So he waited until he was standing right next to her and had very cautiously put a hand on her shoulder before saying, "Parker, are you all right?"

Oddly, she neither bristled nor tried to brush his hand from her shoulder. "I'm tired, Syd," she simple said in a soft and almost defeated voice.

"One of your headaches?" he asked sympathetically, grateful that she was at least talking to him and not stomping away in a huff.

"No..." She put her hand down and looked out over the room with a combination of frustration and acceptance. "Listen, I don't think I'm going to make it through the gift exchange..."

"Do you need a ride home?" he asked immediately. "If you've got one of your headaches, I'd be happy to drive you home. You don't need to be on the road fighting headlights..."

"It isn't a headache, Sydney," she insisted without any energy. "If anything aches, it's located at the opposite end of my anatomy." She sighed at the blank look her comment caused. "I'm not making any sense, am I?"

"I'm afraid not."

"OK." She nodded. "Answer me this, Freud. How often did Jarod come down with a cold or the flu while he was here in the Centre?"

Sydney shook his head. "Never. The air in the sublevels is filtered and scrubbed to remove all but the most minute airborne particles - and there is, or was at the time, a policy that dictated that anybody involved in the Pretender Project displaying symptoms of a viral infection were to stay home until they were no longer contagious. Why?"

"They haven't changed the policies around here lately, have they?"

That evoked a very European shrug. "The Pretender Project is now a retrieval project, not a hard research study. You yourself came to work several days with a cold or flu without being asked to take it home and keep it there, remember?" She nodded. "Now whether those policies are in force with other research projects or not, I'd have no way of knowing."

The storm-grey eyes bore into his as if trying to decide whether or not he could be trusted. Finally Miss Parker sighed. "Do you think Raines is lying when he tells me that the reason I suddenly can't take my little brother out of the Centre nursery for a few days is because he has a cold?"

The psychiatrist had to work hard to stifle a smile. So THAT was the friend she'd been talking about - the one who wouldn't be very good with a group of strangers. No wonder she was being secretive - it wouldn't do her hard-nosed reputation any good for it to become known that she had a soft spot in her heart for the orphaned child being raised in the bowels of the Centre. "The only way to know for sure is to go down there and see for yourself if he's sneezing and coughing, Parker," he suggested gently. "Would you like some company?"

The eyebrow rose. "I know my way to the nursery, you know..."

"I know that," he sighed, wishing that once - just once - she'd take his offer of help and support at face value rather than question it all the time. "But a nurse will be harder put to deny two people access. And if necessary, one of us can keep her busy while the other slips past.

Miss Parker blinked, touched that even after rebuffing his holiday invitation, her old friend was still ready to stand by her. "Thanks, Syd." She blushed. "I'm sorry I..."

"Don't worry about it. Just let me tell Broots what's happening," he asked then, "so that he knows I'm not just abandoning him here."

"Have him pick up our gift exchange packages for us," she suggested with a small smile. "And tell him it's nothing against him - it's just that the three of us going down to the nursery might be a case of over-kill." She pointed. "I'll meet you at the elevator."

Sydney nodded and headed off back toward his friend.

~~~~~~~~

"Mr. Raines said..." the nurse blustered, thoroughly unhappy. She'd been told she wouldn't have to deal with the Parker woman today.

"...told me that my brother has a cold," Miss Parker finished the sentence with a voice that was hard and sharp. "Frankly, knowing the air filtration system of the Centre the way I do, I find it difficult to believe that a child could come down with much of anything down here." Her grey eyes bored a hole into the blue gaze of the nurse. "I thought I'd come down and see for myself, it being Christmas and all..."

"I have orders..."

"To keep a little boy's sister away from him at Christmastime?" Sydney asked in a deliberately appalled voice that had the nurse glancing over at him guiltily and blushing slightly. "Surely she can at least visit with him, can she not? After all, it is he who has the cold ..."

"Well, I suppose..." Try as she might, the nurse simply couldn't think of a good enough reason to say “no” to the former Chairman's daughter and her very astute companion. Miss Parker shot Sydney a glance of pure gratitude for his assistance, and he answered with a gentle smile and a gesture that allowed her to go through the nursery doors before him.

"Melly!" came the cry from the crib near the corner, and then a happy face and two small hands were over the top of the white metal bars and reaching for the tall brunette. "Nurse say you not come - me tell her you come anyway."

"Of course I'd come, little man," Miss Parker told him, hurrying to grasp both his hands without even thinking of Sydney behind her. "I was told you had a cold."

"Wha' dat?" the little boy demanded to know. "Pick me up, p'ease?" Miss Parker slid her hands under his arms and lifted him out of the crib and up into her arms and turned as the child caught sight of Sydney and began to huddle. "Who dat, Melly?"

"This is Sydney - this is a friend of mine. Can you say hello to him?" she told the boy.

"Hi," the child gave a tiny wave.

"Hello," Sydney replied with a gentle smile, then turned a look of confusion on his companion. "'Melly?'"

"Can it, Syd," she whispered at him, then gave her full attention to her little brother. "Are you feeling OK? No coughs or sneezes?"

"Me fine, Melly," the little boy answered with a little frown of his own. "How come me not go wif you affer all?"

"So much for his having a cold," Sydney commented quietly and turned to cast yet another disparaging glare in the direction of the nurse, who suddenly found something very urgent to occupy her attention in her paperwork.

"Really." Miss Parker carried the little boy over and sat him down on the top of the chest of drawers, then began to pull out drawers searching for something. "Let's get you into something a little warmer, so that you won't get a chill when we go," she told him with a determined smile.

That brought the nurse out of her chair again, but once more Sydney simply stepped in front of her and prevented her from getting any closer to Miss Parker and her brother. "The child isn't ill after all," he pointed out in an accusatory tone. "Are you going to tell me that you'd refuse to let this boy spend Christmas with his family?"

"But Mr. Raines..." the nurse whimpered, knowing the inevitable consequence if she let these people steamroller her into allow the boy to leave but not knowing any reasonable way to prevent it short of hitting an alarm and bringing in an army of sweepers.

"He can take it up with me after Christmas," Miss Parker announced firmly from the other side of the room. "Right now, you can tell me where his jacket is."

"Jacket?" The nurse blanched. "Wha... what jacket?"

"The jacket I sent down here yesterday so that he'd have one when I picked him up today," Miss Parker replied in a very tight tone. "Where is it?"

The nurse sighed and pointed to the trash receptacle near her desk. Sydney sputtered in exasperation and went over immediately, digging through several layers of papers and discarded latex gloves before he pulled up the fleece-lined hooded jacket. "Here you go, Parker," he said, handing the garment to his co-worker.

"Thanks," she said, putting it down next to the boy on the chest of drawers and then going back to pulling on socks and slipping on the small sneakers. "Are you ready?" she asked him as she helped him into the jacket.

"Where we go, Melly?" The child's face was positively alight.

"Home, little man." She lifted him in her arms. "You're coming home with me."

The nurse managed to slip past Sydney to try once more to confront Miss Parker, only to have large hands land on her shoulders from behind and be manhandled out of the way gently. "Take the day off, nurse," Sydney advised her quietly before letting go. "Go home and enjoy being with YOUR family for the holiday."

"I'm going to lose my job," the nurse stated softly.

"Trust me," Sydney remarked as he moved to follow Miss Parker out of the nursery, "you can find a better job than one that makes you responsible for keeping a little boy away from his family at this time of year, can't you?"

The nurse's dark eyes impacted solidly with Sydney's brown, and she nodded at last.

"C'mon, Syd, we need to get moving here..."

The Belgian moved quickly and got into the elevator just as the silvery doors began to slide closed. "I told you that two would be harder to put off than one," he said gently, nodding reassuringly at the little boy, "not that I mean to say I told you so..."

"You were right," she admitted softly. "I needed the help."

Sydney blinked - that was about as close to an apology as he'd ever heard her come. "I'll make sure you get out to your car safely," he insisted.

"I asked Sam to stand by for when I came back up," she told him. "At this point, three is definitely NOT overkill."

"I'll get your gift from the exchange from Broots and have it to you sometime later this evening," he added as the elevator doors slipped quietly to the side and Sam's calm face was waiting for them. The two men then ranged themselves on either side of the woman with the child in her arms and escorted her briskly from the building and toward the parking structure.

"Maybe..." Miss Parker started, and then hesitated. "Sydney, would I be really overstepping myself with you if I took back what I said earlier and accepted your invitation for tomorrow?" She ran her hand comfortingly up her little brother's back and then looked up into her old friend's face with wide, grey eyes. "I think he deserves a little more Christmas cheer than I can give him by myself, don't you?"

"You're welcome at my house anytime, Parker," Sydney told her gently, then held the passenger door of her Boxster open so she could situate the child into the car seat. He could understand her hesitation to be alone now - it would be far too easy for Lyle and/or Willy to just drop by and rip the child away from her. "Come by whenever - or, if you wish to really be out of touch with the Centre for the next few days, go home, pack an overnight case, and bring the both of you over to stay in my guest room."

"Let me think about it?"

He nodded, and then bent to give her an unexpected peck on the cheek. "Drive safely, Parker."

She blushed then smiled at him. "You too, Syd." Then she crooked a finger at Sam. "Did you have any plans for Christmas, Sam?"

"No, ma'am," the sweeper answered sedately. "Just sitting around the house..."

"Good," she nodded. "Follow me home and get used to the idea of sticking to me like glue for the next few."

"Yes, ma'am!"

~~~~~~~~

Broots had returned to the Sim Lab with the three colorfully wrapped packages and was sitting at Sydney's computer terminal playing solitaire when the psychiatrist found him. "We'll be four - perhaps five - tomorrow," Sydney told his friend with a serene smile that made Broots smile in response.

Broots logged off the terminal immediately. "You mean she's coming - with...?"

"With Sam and that friend she was talking about," Sydney interrupted in case there were any new bugs in the office. "I'll let you bring the gift exchange packages with you, but I'm going to have to go shopping right away to make sure I have enough for all of us."

Broots' eyes sparkled. "Maybe I'll do a little shopping too - something for Christmas stockings seems to be in order. I haven't done that for Debbie in a while, and I'm sure she'd love it."

Sydney's eyes began to sparkle a little too. "Tell me, do you happen to have a copy of A Visit from Saint Nicholas in your house somewhere?"

Broots nodded. "I'll put it in the car. I take it we'll celebrate tonight AND tomorrow?"

"I don't know yet," the psychiatrist answered honestly. "I'll call if things... get started early."

The computer technician nodded again. "I'd better get moving then," he announced and raised a hand. "I'll see you later, Syd."

"Merry Christmas, my friend," Sydney waved back and reached for his coat and customary beret. Considering the way the day had begun, it was definitely beginning to feel a lot like Christmas, and that was a feeling that Sydney hadn't enjoyed quite so much in a very long time.

~~~~~~~~

Miss Parker closed the bedroom door very softly and came back down the stairs to her friends. "He's asleep - although after your reading, Sydney, I was wondering if I was ever going to get him to settle down..."

"You do a good Night Before Christmas, Syd," Broots agreed with a nod. "You even had Deb's attention."

"Daddy..." the pre-teen complained softly.

"I think it's time for me to get you home to bed too," Broots told his daughter. "We'll be back first thing in the morning for breakfast and games after."

"Will you wait with your presents until we get back, Sydney? Miss Parker?" Debbie asked, looking back and forth between the two adults who were central to her world.

Sydney exchanged a smile with Miss Parker. "I think we can hold off until then," he said with a nod. "We'll probably let the little one enjoy his stocking, however." He bent to claim a hug from Broots' pretty daughter. "I'll see you in the morning, ma petite."

"Goodnight, Sydney. Merry Christmas." Debbie gave the Belgian a tight squeeze about the neck and then hurried over to claim a similar one from Miss Parker. "Goodnight, Miss Parker."

Sydney watched in amusement as Miss Parker didn't even bother to try to hide her enjoyment of the hug. "Goodnight, Deb. Sleep tight."

"Goodnight, Sam," Debbie waved a little shyly at the sweeper who had found a comfortable corner easy chair in Sydney's spacious living room into which he could fold his tall frame and stay out of the way of the family-like celebration.

"G'nite, Squirt," he replied with a smile. "See you in the morning." He'd managed to avoid Debbie's invitation to a rematch on the checkerboard so far, but doubted that he'd get through the next day similarly unscathed.

Sydney escorted the Broots' to the door and then waved them out to their car before shutting the door against the chill of the winter night. "Now, for the stocking..."

"You didn't have to do this, you know," Miss Parker chided her old friend gently as she followed his gestures to the hall closet and the plastic bag that held a Christmas stocking and plenty of candies and small toys for stuffers.

"I know I didn't," he told her calmly, holding a hand out for the stocking. "I wanted to. How often do I get in on introducing a child to the wonders of the season?" He popped open a bag of chocolate kisses and put a healthy handful at the bottom of the stocking. "You didn't have to do this either, you know..." he pointed out in return.

"Yes, I did," she countered defensively. "If you think I was going to allow that child to molder down in the bowels of the Centre, never knowing anything about any of this..." she waved her hand at the beautiful tree that Sydney had in the corner of his living room. Her little brother had been wide-eyed and absolutely entranced by the dancing lights reflected in the ornaments and the sweet smell of pine. She shifted her eyes just a few degrees more to look at the sweeper in the corner chair. "You do realize that if you breathe a word about what went on over here to anybody, I will have to kill you?" she asked evenly.

Sam didn't even blink. "You don't have to worry about me, Miss Parker. As far as anybody else is concerned, I'm at home watching the ballgame on the tube." He actually cracked a smile. "Frankly, I'm having a helluva lot more fun watching you folks do a rather old-fashioned Christmas for kids than I would have stayin' home by myself. And, if you don't mind me sayin' so, I think you're right to have given your little brother a small vacation."

Sydney raised his eyebrows at Miss Parker. "It looks as if you've uncovered another closet rebel, Parker."

She merely smiled and went back to opening plastic bubble wrap packaging on the small age-appropriate toys that Sydney was casually slipping inside the Christmas stocking. "I think we all have a fair idea of who we are now, Syd."

"I have only one question for you," he stated as he shook the stocking to see if there was room for any more toys or candy.

"What's that?"

"'Melly?'" He looked at her with raised eyebrows. "At the very least, you could tell me what it stands for..."

Miss Parker straightened and shot Sydney an exasperated look. "He couldn't pronounce my name – “Melly” was about as close as he could get, and now it's stuck. He won't call me anything else." At the calm look of expectation on the older man's face, she finally heaved a sigh. "Oh, all right - but if I hear EITHER of you even breathe one syllable..."

"We know," Sydney grinned, "we're dead men."

"I'm not even listening," Sam announced quietly from his corner.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she said to herself, shaking her head - then lowered her voice. "It's Melanie - and you didn't hear it from me."

"It's a pretty name," Sydney told her gently. "It suits you."

Miss Parker blushed and ripped the last bubble wrap apart, avoiding looking at Sam. "Do you have room for one more?"

"Only just," Sydney replied, holding up the stocking that was chock full from toe to top. She shoved the toy into the stocking and held her breath that it wouldn't fall out. Sydney repositioned it and then pointed. "Grab that push pin and follow me." Miss Parker waited for him to position the stocking against the mantle and then pinned it into place.

"OK, Santa, I think I've had it," she announced. "I'm going to call it a night." She gave Sam a measuring look. "You gonna be OK on the couch tonight?"

"Don't worry about me, Miss Parker," Sam waved her on. "The couch looks right comfortable, actually." Sydney had already brought out a pillow, a sheet and a very warm-looking blanket for him. "You sleep well."

Sydney turned off the lights to the Christmas tree and nodded in Sam's direction. "See you in the morning," he told the sweeper and then followed Miss Parker up the stairs. "And I'll see you in the morning too," he told her just outside the guest room door, "Melanie."

Her eyebrow nearly hit the ceiling, but her face was calm. "You have a death wish on Christmas Eve, Freud?"

"No," he smiled at her. "I just wanted to use it, just once when it was only the two of us. Goodnight, Parker. Sweet dreams." He bent to kiss her cheek gently. "Thank you for sharing your Christmas with us this year."

"I think I should be thanking you," she corrected him softly. "I think I've been looking in the wrong direction for someone to celebrate with. I don't think I'll make that mistake again." She stretched up and returned the kiss on the cheek. "Goodnight, Sydney. Merry Christmas."

Sydney watched her slip silently back into the guest room she was sharing with her little brother and then shuffled down the hall to his own room, feeling a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction. His house - his home - actually FELT like a home for a change. There was a tree with gifts piled beneath it, and a stocking hanging from the mantle waiting for the early morning and a child's happy cries to disgorge its goodies. His guestroom held family visiting for the holiday, as did his living room - with more visitors expected in the morning. This house had not known so many happy voices at one time for decades. Broots' idea had been a good one - and it had turned out even better than they'd both imagined.

He paused in the hallway after turning out the light, sending a wish to his former protégé that Jarod too might one day come to appreciate all the possibilities that Christmas could offer. Then, feeling more than a little like Santa Claus, he quietly closed his bedroom door with a wink and a nod in the general direction of his houseguests, determined to enjoy his dreams and expectations of friendship in the day to come and hoping that this was but the beginning of a new set of traditions for them all.









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