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Song lyrics from "Look for Me (I'll Be Around)," written by Sylvia Dee and Guy Wood. It's an oldie, originally popularized by the great Sarah Vaughn, but to hear it as Jarod and Miss Parker do you'd need to pick up Blacklisted by Neko Case, copyright 2002, Bloodshot Records.

River Hideout, Part 2

by Ginger

Jarod returned from his walk to find Parker reclining on the bed with her head propped on one elbow and reading the magazine he'd purchased the day before. She was barefoot, wearing jeans and a plain white tank top, wet hair clinging to her bare shoulders. He was tempted to turn right around and walk out again.

Without looking up from her magazine she uttered coolly, "Well?"

"I thought we could start with dinner and then... maybe... some live music?"

"Sure, why not," she remarked with a yawn as she sat up and tossed the magazine aside then took a long, catlike stretch.

If she heard the faint whimper that escaped Jarod's throat as his eyes roamed the sleek, graceful lines of her arched body then she made no indication of it. What she did was swing her legs over the side of the bed and offer,

"I'll get out of your way so you can shower and change."

"No!" he responded a bit more emphatically than he meant to. "I mean, I can manage fine in the bathroom."

Arching one perfect brow at him, Parker asked, "Having second thoughts about trusting me, eh, lab rat?"

"No. I just meant that you don't have to leave... if you don't want to... but if you feel like it then... well… it's a beautiful day and... Oh, just do whatever you want," he grumbled then picked up his bag and stalked into the bathroom.

Shoving the door closed behind him, he leaned back against it, dropped his bag and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. His absurd little outburst had a lot less to do with trusting her than it did with an irrational aversion to the prospect of sharing her with anyone. The idea of her out there on her own, talking to people, and maybe meeting someone - someone whose company she'd prefer to his - grated on him. He was startled by a light knock on the door.

"Jarod?"

"Yes," he replied opening his eyes.

"I'm going to take a stroll down by the river. I agreed to and want to meet Harriet, so I have no intention of pulling anything. For whatever it's worth, you have my word on that."

"I know," he said softly. "Go out and enjoy yourself only... be careful."

"I'll try not to fall in," she quipped then he heard the screen door creak open and slam shut and all was quiet.

Gazing across the room to meet his own eyes in the mirror he frowned and muttered, "Way to go, genius."

A long, relaxing shower would do him a world of good, he thought as he stepped under the almost-scalding spray. And it seemed to be working, the tension in his neck and shoulders easing under the heat of the water. That is until he picked up the soap and proceeded to rub it between his palms to work up a lather. Feeling something amiss, he raised the bar to eye level and discovered a long, dark strand of hair wound around it.

"Oh God," he groaned at the realization that he was standing in the same bathtub in which Parker had soaked less than an hour before, and that he now held in his hands the same bar of soap with which she had washed her body. He immediately turned the tap from hot to cold, quickly lathered up and rinsed off his body then washed his hair, cursing as he felt the tension return to his muscles.

* * * *

"Jeez, Jarod, if you're trying to commit suicide there are more efficient ways to go about it," Parker remarked as she sat down beside him on the porch step.

With a wan smile he inquired, "Nice walk?"

"Yeah," she replied. "Nice shave?"

He poked at the tiny wads of blood-soaked tissue dotting his jaw then commented with a shrug, "I guess it's a good thing I'm not currently engaged in a pretend as a neurosurgeon."

"No kidding. All I can say, genius, is that it's a good thing the Centre has no idea what a basketcase you really are. If they did, I'd be toast. I must be pretty incompetent if I can't even catch a guy who practically decapitates himself while shaving."

"But you can," he muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"Catch him," he whispered.

"Huh?"

"Nothing. It's just about time for dinner and I'm getting hungry. How about you?"

* * * *

"Woo hoo!" Parker shouted as she clapped her hands high above her head.

Jarod cast a sideward glance, raising his eyebrows as he, and everyone else in the place, applauded along with her. She really seemed to be having a good time, and so was he as they took in a show at Gruene Hall, perhaps the oldest and most renowned of the legendary Texas dance halls.

The earlier tension had dissipated considerably as they slipped into an easy camaraderie over the course of their evening out. At dinner, Parker had coaxed - or rather bullied - him into trying her favorite Mexican dish, mole poblano. He was initially skeptical, having considerable difficulty with the concept that cocoa and chicken would go well together. "For Christ's sake, Jarod, be a man!" she'd demanded with that gleam in her eye that made it impossible to refuse her. And, in the end, it was just as well because she was right: it was delicious.

Now they were enjoying an excellent performance; the young woman on stage had a smooth, powerful voice and the musicians backing her were nothing to sneeze at either. The crowd, which ranged in age from young twenty something to elderly, was laid back and friendly. The large shutters lining the walls of the white clapboard building were open, giving the place an open-air feel and letting in a breeze that was refreshing without being chilly. In a word, it was a perfect evening. Maybe he was worthy of the label "genius" after all.

Or not...

Out of the performer's mouth came the dreaded words: "Now that we've gotten y'all heated up, we're going to slow things down again."

The one awkward moment of the evening had come when the band performed a ballad. In an instant, it seemed, everyone around them had paired off to dance, leaving the two of them standing uncomfortably amidst the gently swaying couples. The song had barely been three minutes in length but it had been a long three minutes. Jarod's cheeks had burned the entire time as he stood stiffly beside Parker. At one point, he’d stolen a sideward glance to find her eyes lowered to the floor, her jaw tight, and that she was again unconsciously toying with that square ring of hers.

*When you tire of all the bright lights*

The singer crooned to the seductively bluesy tune and, again as if by some unspoken rule, everyone around them fell into couples and began moving languorously to the music.

*Pace that's killing and you're willing to stay home at night*

Oh no, not again. The unpleasant prospect of standing there like an idiot compelled him to make a bold decision: he would take the bull by the horns, so to speak.

*When your feet are back on the solid ground...*

Mustering every drop of courage available to him, Jarod turned on his heels to face Parker. She blinked at him in surprise then turned to face him. He gave a slight shrug and raised his eyebrows as if to ask, "Shall we?" She replied with a nod and a shrug of her own then took a step toward him.

*Look for me... I'll be around*

Jarod's pulse quickened and he almost took a step back but was, thankfully, able to stop himself. Cursing the fact that he'd never pretended to be a dance instructor, he recalled everything he knew about slow dancing, which wasn't much, and took one of her hands in his then slid his arm around her body to rest his other hand demurely on her lower back. Her free hand went up to rest softly on his shoulder and each took another half-step closer to the other.

*When the new crowd starts to bore you...*

"Sorry," he muttered when that half-step and a slight miscalculation as to their relative positions caused them to softly bump heads.

"S'okay," she sighed with a glint of amusement in her eyes.

It wasn't the most auspicious start but he wasn't about to chicken out now. And so they began to move, stiffly and cautiously at first, but with a tiny bit more confidence with every step they took.

*Just remember there is someone to adore you*

They weren't half bad once they got into it. He was amazed at how relaxed Parker was in his arms, how easily she let herself be led around the dance floor. He'd half expected her to try to lead, and speculated that her cooperation was largely the result of the bottle of wine she'd insisted they order with dinner. Compounding the effects of the wine were the two bottles of "Shiner Bock," a beverage the locals positively swore by, which she'd consumed since their arrival at the dance hall. Although not much of a drinker himself, Jarod was thankful that he'd kept pace with her all evening. Otherwise he might never have screwed up the courage to ask her to dance.

*When you're weary of nights out on the town...*

The polite inch or so that initially existed between their bodies was gone. They were now pressed lightly together with her cheek resting gently against his. She was soft and graceful in his arms, making him feel strong and confident. Miss Parker, who all circumstances aside had always been the embodiment of woman to him, was at this moment making him feel very much like a man.

*Look for me... I'll be around*

He could only imagine the look on his face, but got a pretty good idea when he met the eyes of an older woman dancing with her husband. She smiled warmly then whispered something into her husband's ear. The man looked over at Jarod and smiled too. "Look at that lovely young couple," was what he presumed the woman said. Yeah, look at us, he thought and his smile widened.

*May not seem exciting

The way those others do

I've a notion

My devotion

You will need some day as I need you*

Parker's hand slipped from his and he tensed immediately. The song wasn't over yet so he must have done something wrong. Had he held her too tightly? Did she feel he was taking liberties? Anxiety coursed through him as he pulled back and blinked at her in confusion.

*When the kick's gone that it brings you...*

Confusion gave way to incredulity as she slipped both arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight embrace.

*You will hanker for an anchor just to cling to*

Incredulity yielded to bliss as he wrapped both arms around her and resumed swaying to the music. Jarod closed his eyes, savoring the moment.

*When you've lived it up 'til it's got you down...*

Happiness was tinged with sadness because he knew the moment would be fleeting, and that it would leave him wanting more.

*Look for me... look for me... look for me... I'll be around*

And then it was over. Parker must have been even more intoxicated than he thought because she did not pull away until the crowd was well into a round of applause. When she did their eyes met, sending a wave of panic over Jarod.

"I need air!" he blurted, looking away from her. "I'll meet you back here later."

Without waiting for a response he turned to wind swiftly through the crowd toward the door. His ears were ringing; his heart was pounding. He was clearly in the midst of a full-blown meltdown. With considerable relief he stepped into the evening air but then he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"What's the matter, lab rat? The mole poblano not sitting well?"

He dropped his head and sighed then turned to face her and explain, "I'm fine. The walls just started closing in. I guess I'm not too good in a crowd."

"Mind some company?"

Yes, he did mind, but wasn't about to say so. Instead, he replied, "I thought I'd take a stroll down to the river. You're welcome to join me, but I assumed you'd want to stay for the rest of the show."

"Nah, I've had enough."

"Great," he said through a forced smile while wishing himself dead.

* * * *

God, he'd almost kissed her. They'd been standing on the river bank engaging in casual small talk when he'd turned away from the water to find her leaning back against a tree with her eyes closed and her lips curled into a lazy smile. She had looked so beautiful under the moonlight and stars and so... inviting... that he'd been tempted to press his lips to hers for only the second time in his life. And he might have had she not opened her eyes just as he'd taken a step toward her.

Worrying his bottom lip, Jarod anxiously paced the room, stopping occasionally to glance at the bathroom door. He could hear her humming over the sound of running water. Humming... Miss Parker. This whole day, the entire trip in fact, had to be one long hallucination. Perhaps he'd been captured and was now back at the Centre receiving a steady dose of powerful psychotropic drugs. At least that made some sort of twisted sense.

The water had gone off, the door opened, and his heart leapt into his throat. For standing in the doorway was his huntress, wearing only her white tank top and underpants and carrying the rest of her clothing in her arms.

"Bathroom's all yours," she announced then casually strolled into the room and dropped her clothing on a chair.

Tracking her movements with wide eyes, he stammered, "W... what about your pajamas?"

"Didn't feel like digging them out of my bag. This will do."

No, it most definitely would not do but, again, Jarod wasn't inclined to say so. He did open his mouth to say something but then she bent over the bed to pull the covers back and he couldn't for the life of him recall what it was. He tried to look away but those legs - those legs which carried the woman he'd spent years running from - were so very long and so very shapely. And as sure as he was standing there, as sure as he was of anything anymore, he knew that they would be irresistibly soft to the touch.

"Hello!"

"What?" he muttered.

"I asked," she began with a sigh of impatience then turned to face him and continued, "if you were planning to stand there all night."

Well, there's an idea, he thought then quickly dismissed it and replied, "Uh, no. I was thinking I could take the floor."

"Are you crazy? It's hardwood, Jarod, like a rock."

"It'll be okay on the rug over there." He gestured. "I've had worse."

She scoffed, waving her hand dismissively as she said, "Don't be ridiculous. We're both adults here. Besides, we've been sleeping side by side for days."

Yeah, but on a cramped, uncomfortable bus full of people, not alone on a sumptuous bed in a room at one of the country's most romantic inns. He very much regretted that the inkeeper had ever mentioned that, as he was feeling particularly vulnerable to the power of suggestion.

"Really, I'll be just fine on the..."

"You know something, Frankenrat?" Parker interjected as she climbed into bed and proceeded to adjust the pillows to her liking. "You're no less annoying when you're being an idiot than when you're being a know-it-all. I think I've been extremely magnanimous for someone who was drugged and abducted from her home and, if I were you, I wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. And in case you've forgotten the whole point of this little excursion, we've got a big day ahead of us tomorrow, so do me a favor and just shut up and get ready for bed." With that, she slid under the covers and turned away from him.

"Okay," Jarod muttered defensively then turned to lumber into the bathroom. He was both stung and confused by her words, having expected her to appreciate his chivalrous gesture. Instead it seemed to make her angry. Maybe it was all part of some elaborate plot on her part to get even with him for all the tricks he'd played on her over the years by driving him crazy. If so then she was succeeding beyond her wildest dreams. On that thought, and with a heavy sigh, he closed the bathroom door behind him.

Having changed and brushed his teeth, he emerged from the bathroom to find that she had not moved. Dropping his bag by the door, he gingerly stepped across the room then stopped beside the bed, hesitating. Opening one eye at him, Parker remarked,

"Planning a hike to the North Pole?"

"Excuse me?"

"Do you always sleep in every article of clothing you own?"

"Just sweatpants and a tee shirt," he explained with a shrug.

"Oh, is that all?" she commented with smirk then turned away from him.

Now or never, he thought as he pulled back the covers to climb into bed beside Miss Parker. Yup, this was definitely an hallucination. He was back at the Centre alright; that had to be it. Who else could devise such brutal means of psychological torture?

"Congratulations, Raines," he whispered, settling onto his back.

"Hmmm...?"

"Nothing," he replied with a sigh as he reached over to click off the light on the bedside table then added, "Goodnight, Parker."

Several long minutes of silence elapsed, although he knew that she wasn't asleep. He was wide awake himself and very much doubted he'd get a wink all night. Turning his head, he squinted in the darkness until he could make out her silhouette, which appeared so delicate that it made him ache. The woman was a bundle of contradictions, and what an enticing little bundle she was.

"Jarod?"

Her tone was soft and sleepy, forcing him to clamp his eyes shut to steel himself before answering, "Yes?"

"Believe it or not, I had a nice time tonight."

Smiling and opening his eyes he said, "So did I."

"You know," she began as she shifted onto her back. "It's ironic..." She shifted again, turning on her side and propping herself up on one elbow to face him.

"What is?" he asked, turning his head away from her to stare up at the ceiling, and doing his best to sound casual as every cell in his body noted with considerable interest her increasing proximity.

"That you're sharing a room called the 'River Hideout' with a person you've been hiding from for years."

She shifted a third time and he felt a warm mound of flesh press against his arm, making his spine tingle and his heart race. Swallowing a few times, he struggled to find his voice then willed himself to turn his head and look at her.

"Not you," he whispered. "Never you. Them."

Parker emitted a soft chuckle that vibrated throughout his entire body then stated, "I AM them, Jarod."

"No," he reiterated more emphatically then turned on his side and propped himself up to face her. "You're not."

"Then who am I?"

"Now, there's a loaded question," he joked as he reached over to sweep a stray lock of hair from her face.

"Well, you're the genius," she sighed.

Resigned to the fact that he was physically incapable of removing his hand from her hair, Jarod began to stroke it gently as he went on, "Let's see... Well, you're highly intelligent, competent, and resourceful. You are also belligerent, stubborn and, at times, downright unreasonable. You are, without a doubt, the most infuriating woman I have ever met."

"You sure know how to sweet talk a girl."

"Have I mentioned impatient? Let me finish," he chided playfully. "You are also interesting, funny, and not-half-bad company when you want to be."

"Why, I'm all aflutter," she teased then inched forward.

Jarod felt something tickling his ankle and realized it was her toes. Raising an eyebrow, he continued, "You are also shameless... and wicked, with a real talent for convincing a reasonably intelligent, relatively sane person to do things he probably shouldn't."

"And I thank God for it," she quipped and he could hear the smile in her voice.

Her toes slipped under the elastic cuff of his sweatpants to inch their way up his calf, her leg sliding forward to stack on top of his and bring them into even closer contact. He was unable to stifle a groan, the effect she was having upon him evident in other ways as well. If she were just teasing then he might have to kill her.

"And how about the way I look?" she asked coyly. "Am I... attractive?"

"Oh, you're... alright," he replied, the hitch in his voice undermining the sarcasm.

"Alright, huh? Yeah, I guess you're okay too... for a lab rat."

With that she abruptly pulled away, giving his shoulder a firm shove that sent him flat on his back. For a moment he lay stunned, fearing that she had indeed been toying with him, but then he felt her body settle on top of his. Sighing in relief, Jarod closed his arms around Parker in a crushing embrace then craned his neck to engage her in a deep, punishing kiss. This sure didn't feel like an hallucination, but if it was he could only pray that it didn't end too soon.

* * * *

*What were you thinking, Jarod?*

His mentor's words ringing in his ears, he blinked his eyes open to find her head resting right over his heart, her hair fanning across the expanse of his chest.

"Not a blessed thing, Sydney," he whispered with a wistful smile as he lightly traced her shoulderblade with his fingertips.

In the silence of early morning he knew peace and perfect happiness. But he also knew that neither could last. She had wanted him last night to be sure, her actions making that point unequivocally. But how would she view their encounter - or, to put it more accurately, encounters - in the cold light of day? Would she withdraw into herself, become hostile, or simply dismiss it as something they'd done to pass the time? He didn't have to wait long to find out.

Parker moaned softly and he looked down to watch her eyes flutter open. She lifted her head off his chest and met his eyes, her gaze sleepy but steady. He struggled desperately to find words... something... anything... that might express how it felt to be with her. And not just like this - although it was certainly a high point - but at every moment since she'd awaken in West Virginia. Alas, Jarod found himself utterly at a loss and, staring into eyes that had always been and would always be the standard by which he measured all others, he braced himself for whatever came next.

What he hadn't expected was that she would sink back into her previous position, close her eyes, and snuggle even deeper into his embrace. But that's exactly what she did, leaving Jarod practically beside himself with joy as he tightened his arms around her. Several blissful minutes elapsed before Parker finally spoke.

"What time is Harriet expecting us?"

Smiling at her husky, sleepy tone he replied, "The note said that someone would be here to pick us up at 11:00, and that she wants us to stay for lunch."

"Mmmm... good," Parker purred as she snaked her hand under the covers. Feeling decidedly upbeat at the sensation of her hand wandering down his body, Jarod positively beamed when he heard her murmur,

"We can sleep in."

* * * *

If the events of last night had been a dream come true then what happened this morning surpassed even his wildest dreams. It was one thing to have her in the dark, but quite another to enjoy the sunlight in her hair, to drink in every beautiful inch of her body, and to look into her eyes as he experienced the most intense pleasure of his life.

And afterwards, the tender displays of affection: the way she stroked his hair and nuzzled him. Then she got out of bed and slipped on his shirt, and he liked that. He liked that very much. He liked it even more when she poked her head out of the bathroom doorway and with a devilish gleam in her eye offered,

"I'll wash your back if you'll wash mine."

She shot him sly, conspiratorial smiles at breakfast, once just as the innkeeper approached to refill his coffee cup, making him blush. Mrs. Urbanski pretended not to notice but a wry smile formed on her lips as she moved to the next table. Meanwhile Parker concealed her smirk rather poorly behind her coffee cup.

Shortly thereafter, a polite young man named Ryan arrived to convey them to their destination, which he indicated would be Mission San Juan Capistrano in San Antonio. They were to join Harriet and several of her young charges there for a picnic lunch. Parker's playful demeanor changed at that point; she grew quiet. Riding in the passenger seat next to Ryan, Jarod stole a glimpse at her through the rearview mirror. She stared blankly out the window, the tension evident by the set of her jaw. He wanted to say something to comfort and reassure her, but felt uncomfortable doing so in front of a third party. Instead he waited for their arrival, and settled for giving her hand a surreptitious squeeze as they followed Ryan to the entrance.

Harriet's reaction upon setting eyes on Parker was as to be expected. While he had warned her of Parker's striking resemblance to Catherine, and had even shown her a photograph, he knew that nothing could ever fully prepare a person who'd known the mother for the shock of seeing the daughter for the first time. A tearful Harriet gently clasped Parker's head in her hands and repeated several times as if trying to convince herself that woman standing before her was real,

"Catherine's daughter... Catherine's daughter..."

Then Parker began to cry and Jarod, too, was moved to the verge of tears. He had to restrain a powerful impulse to reach out for her, to pull her into his arms and tell her that everything would be okay. But now, here, in the company of Harriet, was neither the time nor the place. Besides, how did he know that everything would be okay? Come to think of it, when had everything ever been okay?

He nodded when Harriet suggested that he help Ryan set up for lunch while she and Parker took a short walk together, and watched as the two women strolled away, not moving until they disappeared from view. Jarod knew how important this was; Parker was getting back a piece of her mother's, and therefore her own, past. If anyone could fully grasp the significance of this, it was him. And yet, he was having a hard time focusing on the distant past, or the present for that matter, his thoughts rather more preoccupied with recent history as he helped Ryan set up tables then unload a veritable feast from Harriet's car.

He was temporarily distracted from his musings by the commotion that erupted when the Sisters arrived with six small children in tow. Harriet and Parker returned shortly thereafter, walking arm-in-arm across the lawn and stopping briefly to admire the lovely old Mission church. When they joined everyone at the table, Jarod nodded once at Parker as if to ask, "Are you alright?" which she answered with a nod and a small smile.

The afternoon was filled with food, song, games, and the laughter of children, all of whom enjoyed at least one ride on Jarod's back. Busy as he was, though, his thoughts barely strayed from Parker. Nor did his eyes, which is how he witnessed an exchange that left him stunned and amazed.

Parker was standing quietly by herself and staring thoughtfully into the distance when one of the children - a shy, adorable little girl with long shiny black hair and enormous brown eyes - approached her and gingerly tugged on her pant leg.

"Well, hello there," Parker said with a warm smile. The little girl said nothing, but offered up one of the little paper flowers the children had been making earlier.

Crouching down, Parker asked, "Is that for me?" The little girl nodded solemnly and blushed.

Sitting down in the grass, Parker graciously accepted the sweet gift and asked, "What's your name?" then leaned in to listen intently as the child whispered in her ear.

The child whispered something else and, after a moment's hesitation, Parker whispered back to her. The child smiled, crawled onto her lap and soon they were fast friends.

"Looks like Vanessa has made a friend," Harriet remarked as she stepped up beside Jarod. "I can tell you, that doesn't happen everyday."

Unable to tear his eyes from the enchanting scene before him, he replied distractedly, "Children are drawn to her but she doesn't think she's any good with them. She lacks confidence in that area."

Harriet nodded then asked, "And what do you think?"

"I think..."

She waited a few moments for him to continue. When he didn't, she smiled and commented wryly, "Well, I think it must have been an interesting trip down here."

"You have no idea," Jarod muttered then, realizing what he'd said, flushed as he attempted to explain, "I mean, under the circumstances. We are on opposite sides of the fence, after all."

Harriet chuckled softly and said, "Jarod, I've spent most of my life in convents, not under a rock. You haven't taken your eyes off her for an instant the whole time you've been here, and the look in your eyes is not adversarial."

"I didn't realize I was that transparent," he confessed with a sheepish smile. "So...," he added lowering his eyes. "I guess it's obvious." She nodded emphatically, smiled compassionately and gave his hand a light squeeze.

"What I can't figure out," he began thoughtfully, paused a moment to look at Parker, then continued, "is whether this is the best or the worst thing that has ever happened to me."

"But I don't understand. I would think that you'd both be..."

"It's... complicated," he interjected, casting her a knowing look.

"Yes, Jarod," Harriet concurred with a nod and a genial pat to his shoulder. "I imagine it is."

* * * *

The Sisters had rounded up the children and departed. Ryan and Harriet had taken their leave as well, but not before Harriet handed Parker her car keys and graciously insisted that she and Jarod use her car for the remainder of their stay. Now free to spend the rest of the afternoon as they wished, Parker expressed a desire to visit a spot Harriet had showed her on their walk earlier. Delighted to have her to himself again, Jarod was most agreeable.

They stood in silence for a while, taking in the beauty of the woods around them, the sounds of birds and insects, and the gentle rush of water below. With a sigh, Parker broke the silence.

"Mama saved Harriet's life once, when they were girls."

"I know," he replied with a warm smile.

"If I could just be half the person she was, maybe life would be different."

"Oh, Mel," he sighed then quickly looked up to find her eyebrows raised but no trace of anger in her expression.

"Thought you might have forgotten," she commented with a smirk.

"No, I do not believe you did," he contended. "In fact, I think you have known since the day you whispered those three syllables in my ear - ME-LIN-DA - that I would never forget them, that I would whisper them to myself in the dark, and recite them in my mind like a prayer. Such is your power to bewitch, Miss Parker."

Laughing she advised, "I think you better sit down, Wonderboy. You're delirious."

"And furthermore," he continued undeterred as he took a step toward her with a playfully menacing glimmer in his eye. "I think you've always known that I was yours for the taking when and if you decided you wanted me. And at some point along this journey, indeed very early on, you decided that the time was now."

He took another step toward her. Biting her lip, she took a step back as he continued, "Then you just sat back and watched me make a complete fool of myself for days. I haven't cut myself shaving in twenty five years - I can shave in the pitch dark with a rusty straight razor - and yet I nearly slit my own throat yesterday."

Parker chuckled and he narrowed his eyes and shook his head in mock disapproval then took another step forward, and she a step back, as he proceeded, "I can barely think straight around you. You drive me to distraction and you know it. And yet I don't have a clue as to what you think about any of this, how you think what has happened will change our lives, if at all, or what you plan to do about it."

"Don't you?" she asked coyly.

"I have absolutely no idea, and you know it."

He took another step forward and she another step back, jumping slightly when she made contact with the large tree behind her. Grinning evilly, Jarod placed his palms flat on the tree trunk on either side of her body and leaned forward to ask,

"So, Miss Parker, what do you have to say for yourself?"

Reaching behind her into her back pocket, she produced the panda bear, flipped the head open, and with a look of complete innocence offered, "Want some Pez?"

Shaking his head slowly at her, he observed, "You're not going to answer me, are you?" She shook her head gravely.

"You are going to keep me guessing because you like having me at your mercy." She nodded and grinned triumphantly.

"Okay," he conceded with an exaggerated sigh then glared at her and demanded, "Then give me back my Pez!" Yanking the item in question from her hand, he slipped it into his pocket where it was immediately forgotten as he slowly leaned forward and tacked on softly,

"And kiss me."

# # # #

FIN

Author's Note: I know, it's inexcusably sappy but I DID warn you! Oh, and here's a bit of trivia for you: The dance/fight scene from the film "Michael," which featured John Travolta in the title role of the archangel, was shot in historic Gruene Hall.









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