Part 4
By Oriana
Okay, before I get on with the
legal mumbo-jumbo, I just want to toss out a gigantic "THANK YOU!!!"
to y'all for reading this storyline for so long. All of your feedback for the
entire "Enigma Lovers" series, from Paper Snowflakes to With Me, has
been absolutely amazing.
Here's the longest list of song credits you're ever gonna read. Ready? Okay, in order of appearance, the songs are: "Walking After You," Foo Fighters; “I Try”, Macy Gray ; "Dizzy," GooGoo Dolls; "More Than This," The Cure; "One," Filter; "Love's the Only House," Martina McBride; "I'll Stand By You," The Pretenders, "Just Breathe," by Faith Hill. *whew*
Disclaimer: I don't own "The
Pretender" or any of its characters. Thanx for not suing! ~Oriana
~~~~~~~~~
He drove along the Golden Gate
Bridge; actually, "inched along" would probably be a better
description--5:00 Friday in San Francisco, especially during the holidays, was
the traffic jam epitome. Jarod looked through the passenger's side window out
onto the bay and smiled. It was just before dusk, and boats on the water were
beginning to light up with their colorful Christmas lights.
Realizing that he wouldn't be
going anywhere for a while, Jarod looked through the CDs he had, and stopped at
one: The Foo Fighters. He'd bought it out of curiosity, and never gotten around
to listening to it. He popped the disc in, and pressed the random play button;
he was too busy frowning at the honking vehicles, though, to listen to the
lyrics until a line caught his attention:
"Things just won't do without
you, matter of fact
I'm on your back..."
The words brought a thought to
him, but he shoved it aside.
"If you'd accept surrender,
give up some more
Weren't you adored?
I cannot be without you, matter of
fact
I'm on your back...."
He shook his head as the thought,
and a picture of her, stubbornly returned. He pressed the eject button, took
the CD out, hit the button on the door for the passenger side window, waited
for it to roll down, and tossed the Foo Fighters out the window.
~~~~~~~~~
Five cars up, Parker frowned and
watched in curiosity as something metallic sailed through the sky, down towards
the water. Then, shrugging, she turned on the radio, hoping to find some music
to put her back in the Christmas spirit after this half hour wait on the
bridge. She tuned it to a generally peppy station, and a song entered the car.
"I play it off, but I'm
dreamin' of you
Try to keep my cool, but I'm
failing
I try to say goodbye, and I choke
Though I try to hide it, it's
clear
My world crumbles when you are not
here..."
Not at all liking the thoughts
entering her head, Parker reached over and turned the stereo off.
~~~~~~~~~
For Jarod, however, things weren't
that easy. Too stubborn to turn off the radio, and unwilling to believe that every song
playing in the Bay area could be connected to them, he switched to another
station--his fourth in the last 30 seconds.
"You're cynical and beautiful
You always make a scene
You're monochrome delirious
You're nothing that you
seem..."
He growled, and clicked to another
station.
"Your heart hides a secret
The promise of what is
Something more than this
Offer me the world, how can I
resist?
Something more than this..."
Growl, click.
"One is the loneliest number
Since you went away..."
Growl, click.
"Love's the only house
Big enough for all the pain in the
world..."
Growl, click. The car was empty of
music once again. Still, though he'd given up on the radio, Jarod found it hard
to believe that there wasn't some music available to him that wouldn't send his
mind and emotions reeling. Digging again through the CDs, he picked up another
unopened one, and studied the cover. It was the Pretenders, a gift Julia had
given him as a joke. Funny, he hadn't thought about her in the longest time.
Shrugging, he pushed the CD in and waited for music.
"Oh, why you look so sad? The
tears are in your eyes
But don't, be ashamed to cry, let
me see you through
'Cause I've been in the dark side
too
When the night falls on you, and
you don't know what to do
Nothing you confess, could make me
love you less..."
His finger reached for the eject
button, but something stopped him, as the words finally hit home.
"I'll stand by you, I'll
stand by you
Won't let nobody hurt you, I'll
stand by you
Come on and talk to me now
Hey, what you got to hide? I get
angry too
Well, I'm a lot like you..."
There was a realization just
within his grasp; with a feeling of urgency, Jarod leaned closer to the
speaker.
At the crossroads, but don't know,
which path to choose
Let me come along, 'cause even if
you're wrong
I'll stand by you, I'll stand by
you
Won't let nobody hurt you, I'll
stand by you
Take me into, your darkest hour
And I'll never desert you, I'll
stand by you..."
And he got it, he really got it.
Everything they'd done, suddenly thrown into perspective. He thought of the
risk she'd taken in Washington, how she'd put herself out there despite the
odds.
"And when, when the night
falls on you, baby
You're feeling all alone, you
won't be on your own
I'll stand by you, I'll stand by
you
Won't let nobody hurt you, I'll
stand by you
Take me into, your darkest hour
And I'll never desert you, I'll
stand by you
I'll stand by you, I'll stand by
you
Won't let nobody hurt you, I'll
stand by you..."
The music trailed off and the song
ended. Jarod sat back into his seat, and stared ahead in a sort of daze. The
traffic began to move a moment later, and impatient drivers behind him honked
their horns. Snapping back to reality, he hit the accelerator and finished the
drive across the bridge in contemplation.
But as he drove through the city,
got back to the real world, his earlier realization was forgotten, and he
suddenly wanted nothing more than to just get out of this place. He didn't even
know why he'd had the urge to come to San Francisco for the holidays anyhow.
She'd put a lot of work into the
house in the last two months. Painting the nursery, pouring plenty of time and
energy into finding the perfect furniture for every room, from the sofa to the
toothbrush holder; she'd done everything imaginable to make it into a home.
As she sat that night, though,
long after her brother had fallen asleep, and oblivious to the freezing ocean
breeze thanks to a thick cardigan sweater, she was lost in thought. She loved
this place, she really did, and her brother was the happiest baby she'd ever
seen. Before, she'd been looking forward to Christmas here. But now...
"Maybe it's just too much at
once," she thought aloud. "Maybe I'm going into happy home
overload." She gave this more consideration, then stood up and went
inside. The living room was completely decked, from a huge tree to stockings
over the fireplace. She touched one with her fingers, and thought back to the
makeshift stockings of last year--
"That settles it," she
sighed decisively. "So what if next week's Christmas. I'm gettin' the hell
out of here." She checked on her brother, then went into her bedroom and
started packing.
"But, sir, don't most people
who come here already know where they're going for the holidays?" asked
the confused Delta Air employee.
His boss sighed impatiently.
"Harold, I've already explained this to you three times. We overestimated
the flight demand for Virginia this Christmas, so we've got zero passengers and
mucho space. If anyone comes up here without a destination picked out, I want
you to hammer that state in their heads until they buy a ticket. You got
me?"
"Yes, sir. But, how am I
supposed to convince them?"
He shrugged. "I don't know,
that's your problem. Make a cute jingle, point out the cheap prices. Hell, I
don't care if you have to strip naked and start doing the funky chicken, but
you're gonna sell those seats."
"Yes, sir," he squeaked.
Moments later, from the throngs of seasonal passengers, Parker appeared in
front of him pushing a stroller. "Hello, ma'am," he greeted her
brightly. "Happy holidays! What can I do for you?"
"Hi," she replied
cheerfully. "Um, you know, I'm not really that sure. This is sort of
spur-of-the-moment thing. Where's someplace nice to spend Christmas?"
His eyes brightened up.
"Well, ma'am, I'd say Virginia is what you're looking for."
She gave him a confused look.
"Virginia?"
"Yes, Virginia has
everything--beaches, shopping, wildlife."
"It's below zero, I've seen
enough stores to last me a lifetime, and I'm pretty sure anything interesting
would be hibernating."
Harold looked around desperately,
and spotted a sticker on someone's suitcase. "Well, you know their motto:
'Virginia is for lovers.'"
Parker's cheerful face melted.
"Don't push it, buddy," she frowned. Studying the available flights
schedule behind him, she spotted a plane leaving in 20 minutes. "Boston!
There's culture, there's iceskating, there's hotels that have room
service."
"But--"
She slapped down her Visa.
"I'll take two seats."
"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled
weakly. He typed the order into his computer, and found a ray of hope.
"I'm afraid the only two seats left together are first class. Due to the
closeness of purchase to departure, and the fact that it's the holidays, I'm
afraid it's going to cost you an extra $150 each."
"No problem." She turned
her attention to her brother, tucking his blanket in around him as he napped.
Harold sighed, and printed up the tickets.
Four minutes later, Jarod appeared
at the same desk.
"Hello, sir. Happy
holidays!"
"Happy holidays to you
too," he smiled, studying the schedule.
"And where will you be going
today?"
"Anyplace away from
here."
Harold grinned. "Well, then,
sir, might I suggest Virginia? You know what they say--Virginia is for
lovers."
He stared at the ticket clerk.
"You're joking, right?"
"Sorry?"
"Nevermind," he sighed.
A flight caught his eye. "Hey, Boston! I'll be out of here in 15
minutes." He pulled out a credit card.
Harold gave him a withered look.
What was with these people? "There's only one seat left, sir."
"No problem, I'm traveling
alone." He paused, and frowned, "First class?"
"No sir, those were just
taken."
Jarod sighed, pictured spending a
three hour flight with some kid kicking the back of his seat, then thought of
the alternative. "Fine, I'll take it."
"Now, Angie, you're sure he
has enough toys?" Parker fretted, placing yet another stuffed animal onto
the floor near her brother.
"Yes, yes, he'll be
fine," assured the middle-aged woman, slowly leading her towards the door.
"This must seem silly to you,"
she laughed.
"Not at all," replied
Angie.
"I'm just nervous about
leaving him alone in a strange hotel room for so long."
"Long? You said two
hours!"
"Still," she sighed with
worry, "I don't know."
"Honey, he's going to be
fine. Besides, it's not like you're leaving him to go pick up some stranger at
a bar--you're getting stocking stuffers!"
"I should have just brought
the ones from San Francisco. Then I wouldn't be rushing out on Christmas
Eve."
Angie laughed. "It's okay. Now go
on, off with you."
Parker stopped in the door.
"I really do appreciate this. I know it's a lot to ask, leaving your
family on a night like tonight."
"It's my pleasure, honey. Not
mention my job--I am one of the hotel's babysitters, remember?"
"All right, you have a
point." She looked back into the suite's family room anxiously.
"Okay... I'm going now."
"Yes, dear."
"But I'll be back soon."
"Yes, dear."
"Just a quick stop or
two."
"Yes, dear," Angie said
pointedly. Parker closed the door behind her reluctantly, and decided that she
should stop at a toy store and pick up another gift.
It was just before dusk, and
despite the cold, Jarod had an irresistible craving for a chocolate sundae.
Following the crowds of last-minute shoppers, he wandered around the main
shopping district until he spotted an ice cream store on the next corner. He
was just about to enter, when something he'd seen registered in his mind.
Turning back to the street, he looked, but saw nothing, and shrugged, then went
inside.
Sitting in her taxi, Parker froze
as she realized who she thought she'd just seen. She looked again at the
corner, but no one familiar was there.
In the bustling toy store, she
smiled at an electric train display. She'd have to get one of those as soon as
her brother was old enough. Finally spotting an open salesperson, she flagged
him down.
"Excuse me, but do you have
any bears that talk?"
"Oh, yeah, tons. I'd say
Buddy Bear is what you want--great for little kids, he talks when you squeeze
him, and laughs when you tickle him."
"Perfect. I'll take
one."
"Sure thing. Hey,
Sheila," he called to a nearby employee. "Where are the rest of the
Buddy Bears?"
She walked up to them. "Oh,
I'm sorry, miss, but someone just bought the last one."
Exiting through the store's
revolving doors, Jarod looked into his shopping bag and grinned. Sure, it was a
stuffed bear for kids, but he just couldn't resist.
It'd begun to snow. Parker walked
slowly down the street next to the water, enjoying the sight of fluffy white
flakes floating through the dark sky. It really was picturesque. Shopping bags
in hand, she was taking the scenic route back to the hotel; she'd given up on
finding an empty taxi.
An old-fashioned 50s cafe on the
block up ahead caught her attention. Big bulbs outlined the door and windows,
and Jingle Bell Rock was drifting out into the cold air whenever a customer
came or went. She grinned, stopped in front of it, and considered stopping for
a milkshake, then froze as she looked through the window.
At a table near the back, just
finishing up a cheeseburger and fries, was Jarod.
"My god." Uncountable
emotions went through her right, and Parker found she couldn't even think. Her
body, of its own accord, walked her straight into the restaurant and back to
his table, where he sat with his back to her, starting on a strawberry
milkshake.
At that moment, she was completely
split. On one hand, she had the desire to just go up and hug this man she never
thought she'd see again; on the other hand, there was the irresistible urge to
take that glass of water the waitress had just sat down next to him, and soak
him.
This was a serious deliberation,
but not for long--as she watched him, she got angry, thinking of how Jarod was
innocently sipping a milkshake while she stood with her heart pounding once
again. The decision was made. "Screw it," she muttered to herself,
"I've never been able to control myself before. Why start now?"
Parker walked right up to him, and
just as he looked up in shock and realized that it was her, she picked up the
glass, splashed the water directly in his face, turned and walked back out.
Jarod, also in a daze of his own,
felt himself stand up and hurry after her.
She had just gotten outside, and
looking to where she'd dropped her bags earlier, when he walked through the
door. Curious customers were gathering in the windows, watching and murmuring
among themselves.
She could've apologized. She
could've acted like an adult. She could've walked away and never spoken to him
again. But she heard the jingle of the door's bell as he came out, grew
completely indignant, turned and instead just blurted out, "I may be
condescending, arrogant, and at times irreversibly bitchy. I'm completely
opinionated, and have been a hopeless mess since birth. I'm
egotistical, rebellious and have no idea how to do the laundry--but damn it,
man, isn't that why you
fell in love with me?!"
Out of breath, and too ticked off
to say anything, she turned and ran.
Jarod couldn't move, only watch as
she ran out of his life once again--for about three seconds. Then, a woman of
60 stuck her head out the door and said, "Well what are you waiting for?
Go after her!"
Staring after her, he snapped to
and murmured, "What am I doing?" He broke out running after her,
calling her name.
He caught up to her after four
blocks. Just feet behind, he called again, "Parker!"
She finally turned, and demanded,
"What?"
"Marry me."
A warm salty breeze drifted in
from the bay and through the open windows, billowing through the thin white
curtains before circling lazily through the room. It was late, but a full moon
bathed everything in a pale light.
In the bed, two forms lie still,
looking up at the ceiling in silent content. He'd wrapped one arm around her,
and was rubbing her shoulder with one finger in a slow, circular pattern.
Smiling dreamily, she lifted her
head from his chest, looked into his eyes. "Do you realize," she
murmured, "what this is?"
He smiled back. "What?"
"Perfection. A moment of
absolute perfection. We're safe, we're home, we're together."
"You're right. I can think of
only one thing better."
"What's that?"
"The moment when you become
my wife."
In response, she leaned in and
kiss him. "Two days. I can't believe just two more days, and we'll be
married."
"Are you ready?"
"I've never been more ready
for anything in my life. It's been hard enough waiting three months, but
planning a wedding takes time." She rested her head back on his chest, and
smiled secretively. "Of course, we couldn't wait much longer if we wanted
to."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, we've only got less
than nine months."
His eyes widened. They both sat
up, and he stared at her in happy disbelief.
"So this is what it takes to
make you speechless," she laughed.
"I-I...I mean, you're saying
that--" he stuttered.
She laughed again, took his hand
and placed it on her flat stomach. "Congratulations. You're going to be a
daddy."
Beaming, he hugged her. "This
is incredible!"
"I know. I went to the doctor
yesterday, and they confirmed. I'm three weeks along."
"I--I just... Wow." She
hugged him back, kissed him.
Eventually, they settled back
down, still embracing. He couldn't take his eyes off of her, even after she
drifted off to sleep. "A baby," he murmured, brushing her cheek.
"Our baby." He kissed her forehead.
Resting his head on his pillow,
with one arm around her and another under his head, Jarod stared up at the
ceiling.
He was oblivious to the tiny red
dot slowly making its way across the wall, until he turned to kiss Parker
again, and saw the beam directed at her side. "Parker!"
Too late. A split-second, his arm
stung, and everything spun. The last sound he heard was the far-off cries of a
child. The world went black...
"...to wake up." A slap
to the face and cold water soaking him. Jarod slowly came to, his head
pounding. "Come on, Jarod," a man's voice insisted,
"wakey-wakey."
Another slap to the face. Slowly,
reluctantly, he opened his brown eyes to the scene around him, then shot up as
where he was registered. A cement cell. No cot, no windows, no nothing. Just a
steel door in one corner. He tried to stand, felt something hold him back.
First thought: Where's Parker?
Second thought: Oh, god, I'm back.
Third thought... Jarod studied the
man in the shadows next to him. "Cox?"
"The one and only."
At the moment, Jarod didn't really
care. There was only one person he was thinking of. "Where is she?"
~~~~~~~~~
"Where is he?" Parker
growled for the third time. The figure in the corner, hidden in the shadows,
didn't reply. After the first time she hadn't gotten an answer, she'd lunged at
him, only to find her wrist chained to the wall. Now, she glared at the chain,
and gave it another furtive tug.
"What, is that bothering
you?" Parker looked back in shock. "Maybe if you stopped being so
violent, we wouldn't need it anymore."
"Lyle?" she whispered in
disbelief.
He clapped mockingly. "Very
good, sis."
"But how...?"
"What, thought you'd knocked
me off?" He walked closer, and smirked. "Don't you wish. Damn close,
though. As it is," he reached a hand up to his temple, "that bullet
left one hell of a scar. I was unconscious for eight days." He leaned
close, and grinned mirthlessly. "But now, I'm back."
~~~~~~~~~
"The whole situation is
really quite simple," Cox explained neutrally, standing before him.
"You screwed with the Centre. Not smart. You slept with the boss's
daughter--doubly moronic. But here's the one that really takes the cake--you
actually thought you'd gotten away with it." He leaned against the
opposite wall, and chuckled. "Oh, that's good. Anyhow, we thought we'd let
you two play house long enough--"
"Meaning you finally managed
to find us."
"Whatever. Point is, we've
got you back. And now that you're both where you belong, it's time for a little
housekeeping." Cox held up a syringe.
~~~~~~~~~
"Funny, Lyle," Parker
remarked innocently, "I would've thought knives and devices of torture
were your weapons of choice."
His face darkened, and he held the
syringe a little closer. "Don't push it. I could always exchange this for
a vile of LS49. I know you've had previous experience with the stuff, but I bet
our scientists would love the chance to see the effects of the poison on an
unborn child."
Parker backed against the cold
cement wall. "I swear, Lyle," she hissed, "you hurt this child,
and I will make you suffer."
"How quaint, you're getting
all maternal. Must get lots of practice, looking after our little
brother."
That caught her attention.
"What have you done with him?"
"As we speak, he's back in
the loving arms of his real father. He's right where he belongs, just like you
and lover boy."
"How could you do that? He's
your brother, for god's sake!"
"Exactly!" he snapped.
"He's a Parker. He'll grow up in the Centre, just like you. Only this
time, we hopefully won't make the same mistakes that were obviously made with
you."
~~~~~~~~~
"So baby Parker's back, and
you have us stuck in cells. Seems to me there's no need for whatever's in your
hand."
"Quite the contrary,"
Cox remarked, filling the syringe from a vile of clear liquid. "You see,
we don't just want you two locked up for the rest of your lives--you're far too
valuable. No, we're going to make things the way they were."
~~~~~~~~~
"You expect me to believe
that a shot's going to erase our past together?"
"No. Besides, that wouldn't
be any fun."
"You really are a psychopath.
You realize this, of course."
"Of course."
~~~~~~~~~
"So what then?" he
demanded.
"The only solution Mr. Lyle
and I agreed would be enjoyable for ourselves," Cox oozed.
~~~~~~~~~
"This," Lyle said,
holding up the syringe and looking at it with admiration, "really is quite
remarkable. It makes your mind incredibly open to suggestion."
"You're going to brainwash
us."
~~~~~~~~~
"Oh, yes," Cox replied.
"The ultimate brainwash, in fact, given the circumstances."
"Meaning what?"
"Meaning, when we're done
with you, the love between Parker and yourself with no longer be."
~~~~~~~~~
"Instead," Lyle smiled.
"You will feel the most absolute, extreme hatred possible."
~~~~~~~~~
"Then you go back to doing
simulations, and Parker continues on the Corporate fast track. Simple."
~~~~~~~~~
Two guards entered her cell, and
try as she might to fight them off, they soon had her pinned to the floor. Lyle
advanced with a menacing grin, and held the syringe in front of her eyes.
"Really, sis, don't bother
fighting. I already told you, struggle and we stick you with the LS49." He
gave a pointed look at her stomach. "And we both know you don't want
that."
"Lyle..." she hissed through
clenched teeth.
"Not that it really matters
either way."
~~~~~~~~~
The guards released Jarod. Cox,
already at the now-open door, looked back and said, "Go ahead and unlock
him." They complied.
"This... drug," he
managed slowly, his breath becoming ragged. "What will it do... to the
baby?"
Lyle smiled wickedly. "What
baby?"
"No!"
~~~~~~~~~
"You see, this lovely stuff
is as toxic to the brain as LS49 is to the body."
"What?" she whimpered.
"That's right, sis," he
grinned, pricking her flesh with the needle. "Your baby is as good as
dead--
NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! Parker shot
up, a cold sweat just forming on her face. Her head darted about quickly,
expecting to see Lyle. Instead, it was the same darkened bedroom, with Jarod
beside her and the curtains billowing in the breeze. A dream, she realized,
she'd fallen asleep after telling Jarod about the baby, and had a dream. Two
deep breaths to calm herself, then Parker was out of the bed in a flash, moving
about quickly but with the silent prowress of a hunted animal.
Jarod, awakened by her movements,
slowly sat up and looked at her with sleepy concerned eyes. "What's
wrong?"
She pressed a finger against his
lips. "Shh... Don't talk. Get dressed, hurry."
Wide awake now, he nodded once and
stood. Tugging on a pair of pants, he watched her pull something from the
drawer, then gave a dismayed look. She pointedly ignored it—since he'd moved
in, Jarod had been trying to convince her to get rid of the gun, but she'd
never agreed. Now, she was incredibly grateful for it.
"Get the stuff, I'll get the
baby." He nodded silently, and hurried out. The "stuff" she
referred to was what they'd stuck into a large safe in the study's wall, in
case of an emergency: his silver case, and all the papers and passports for a quick
escape. Money was scattered in a dozen anonymous accounts, so cash wasn't a
problem.
After picking up her brother, who
remained asleep in the safety of her arms, Parker hurried down the hall and out
the front door, with Jarod right behind him. He unlocked the doors to the car,
and as he took the baby from her and placed him in the car seat in the back,
the slightest sound -the crunching of stealthy feet on grass- came from behind
her. Parker immediately spun, raised the gun and fired, a silencer preventing
the echo of a gunshot in the still night air. A single black-clad form fell to
the ground, motionless.
Jarod looked at the body, then
her, and got behind the wheel. She got into the passenger's side, and he backed
quickly out of the driveway. "How did you know?"
"Centre instinct. When things
finally look up, always be suspicious."
Their hotel suite looked out onto
the Mediterranean. The next morning, while Jarod continued to sleep, Parker
reached out into a blooming tree whose branches leaned over their balcony, and
plucked a few of the blossoms to place on the breakfast tray waiting for Jarod.
On her way to the table, she
bumped against the desk. Jarod's wallet dropped to the floor. She put the
flowers down, and bent to pick it up. A small white square fell to the
floor--she caught it, and studied it with interest. A piece of paper. From the
look of the warn edges and small tears here and there, it'd been opened and
closed often. Curious, she opened it, then gasped as she realized what it was.
From the beginning of our times
together, there has been an undeniable bond, a mutual feeling of trust and
kindness. When I was alone, and experiencing fear that seemed almost inhuman,
you would appear at my side, from the shadows of my mind, to hold me, to
comfort and protect me during the worst trials of a lifetime. I have come to
rely on you, and allowed you to become the soul I believed myself incapable of
having.
The beginning of us was the mark
of a journey, a long and frightful distance that we've traveled hand in hand.
In times when hope seemed impossible, and faith was denied us by everyone but
each other, we were able to endure anything. Through sheer will and love, we
have survived. But now, I find myself once again without a soul, and forced to
travel this last distance alone.
She forced herself to breathe,
thinking back to what she'd done. A conversation with Sydney on night at her
home, after she'd run home to the Centre, played through her mind.
"I know that you have your
reasons," he'd said earnestly, "but what of Jarod?"
"I'm no good for him,
Syd," she whispered back, staring into her tea. "I'm too screwed up
for anyone."
"You really believe that?
Don't you see that you're the best thing for him?"
"Maybe you're wrong."
"Or maybe you're
scared."
She studied his face.
"Everyone has a fear, even me."
"What are you afraid
of?"
A thoughtful silence. He didn't
expect an answer, but then she started abruptly, staring into the fire,
"I've always made myself neutral to things--a sort of natural protective
instinct. My fear is that one day, I'll wake up, brush my teeth, get dressed,
and go to work. Later, I'll come home, make dinner, maybe read a book, and go
to bed. And that will have been the day--the day when there wasn't a moment,
not the smallest moment, when I thought of him. That's my fear--that I will one
day be immune to him."
"...Love doesn't work like
that."
"No, but a Parker's mind
does."
She snapped back to the present
with a shudder, and forced herself to finish the letter she'd written in
Seattle.
...And so I stand here, at the
last turn of this journey, forced into a decision that leaves me trapped in the
abyss of my own mind. The only comfort I find -and it is little- is in the
knowledge that you finally know the truth. You
understand that, despite
everything, if my breath were taken and my life ended, this love I have found
will continue.
What allows me to go on, is
knowing that you will continue to live as well. And that as long as one of us
survives, so does a part of the other.
It is this knowledge that guards
me in the last tract of a long and fateful path. I do not know where or how
this will end. My only hope is that you will one day understand what I have
done, and forgive me for ending our journey alone.
A shaky breath. She carefully
folded the paper back up, and stuck it in his wallet firmly. That letter was a
painful reminder, but it didn't matter. Not now. Everything was okay, the past
was behind them. They were safe.
Catherine Parker had only been to
Italy once, as a child with her mother. When her own daughter had been born,
she'd described a hundred times as bedtime stories the amazing world of Venice,
the city of exotic people, beautiful old buildings and avenues of water.
They were still in search of a spot
for the wedding, but had decided to take the day off, and just enjoy the area.
Part of a tour group seeing the nearby islands, they passed one in their boat
that the tour didn't even stop at; something about it, however, caught her
attention, and Parker insisted that her and Jarod rent a boatsman to take them
out to it.
Near dusk, they arrived. The
island was small, less than a quarter mile long, and like a world all its own.
Situated at the top of the island's hill, gleaming in the last rays of sun, was
a decorative ancient Italian chapel. One look, and Parker nearly cried. She
hurried inside, and marveled at the exactness of the details. It was the chapel
from the dreams of her coma.
She turned and took Jarod's hand
in her own. "This is it. This is the place where we should get
married."
The pride of the Centre is its
ability to track down anyone, anywhere, at any time. The fact that Jarod had
eluded them for so long was a stinging slap to the face. However, managing to
bring seven people to a secret wedding, including actual Centre employees,
without a trace and no clue whatsoever of where'd they had gone, would be the
final insult.
In flower-and-streamer decorated
pews sat Sydney, Broots and Debbie, Samantha and her parents, and Angelo with
Parker's baby brother, all looking on with great admiration, and a few teary
eyes, as a cheerful accented voice announced, "You may kiss the
bride."
They all clapped eagerly. Broots
even surprised everyone -including himself- by giving a loud cheer. Jarod and
Parker laughed, then resumed their kiss.
"May I announce, for the
first time in public, Mr. and Mrs. Russell." Louder clapping, as they
hurried outside before the bride and groom stopped kissing.
Stepping down the two marble steps
hand in hand, they both grinned happily. Exiting the chapel, they were greeted
not with rice, but bubbles, as the guests blew the translucent globes into the
air along their path. Parker stopped, and tossed the bouquet of white roses and
baby blue lilies back. With an excited squeal, Samantha jumped up and down as
the flowers landed right in her hands. Everyone laughed.
The reception was held back in
Venice, in their hotel's large antique ballroom, lighted with chandeliers and
candles. The celebration lasted long into the night. Everyone was too happy to
be tired; in fact, it wasn't until one in the morning, as her father picked her
up and swayed to a slow dance, that Samantha fell asleep. By two, everyone else
had followed suit, and headed up to bed, except the now-married couple, slowly
dancing to soft music drifting through the speakers.
As the song ended, a thought
struck Jarod. He took Parker's hand, and pulled her through the open doors out
into Venice with a grin.
"Where are we going?"
"You'll see." He looked
around impatiently, and his face brightened at the sight of a single late-night
gondolier steering his long thin boat in the water past their hotel. He waved
him over, and pulled her with.
There was no one to be seen
anywhere. Lamplight and stars gave everything a cozy glow. The only sound was
the rhythmic beating of the gondolier's rod against the water.
"I've never felt more
safe," Jarod confessed, grinning ear to ear. "We've done it, do you
realize that? Despite everything, despite the Centre and your father and
Raines, we've won. We're finally together." He held up his hand, and the
gold band reflected dimly. "We've even got the rings to make it
official." They both laughed. "This incredible! I feel amazing, like
I can do anything." He gazed into her eyes. "And it's all because of
you... We don't have to hide it anymore--and I want everyone to know it!"
He stood abruptly, almost flipping the boat over, and shouted, "I love
her! Do you hear me? We love each other!" He gave a whoop, and Parker
could only laugh. The gondolier, with an uncomfortable blush, continued to
stare straight ahead.
They turned a corner, and the boat
again neared the hotel. Music was still filtering out from the ballroom's
speakers.
Jarod hopped out as it stopped,
and offered his hand to help her out. They paid the gondolier, added a hefty
tip, and stood at the edge, looking into the water. Then, smiling, Parker
pulled Jarod onto a stone bridge connecting two blocks of Venice. She wrapped
her arms around his neck, he wrapped his arms around her waist, as a new song
began.
I can feel the magic floating in
the air
Being with you gets me that way
I watch the sunlight dance across
your face and I've
She rested her cheek on his
shoulder, hugged him even closer. "I never want this moment to end,"
she whispered.
"Then you've got it."
"You've give me anything,
wouldn't you?"
"Name the star, and it's
yours."
When I'm lying wrapped up in your
arms
The whole world just fades away
The only thing I hear
Is the beating of your heart
'Cause I can feel you breathe
It's washing over me
Suddenly I'm melting into you
There's nothing left to prove
Baby all we need is just to be
Caught up in the touch
The slow and steady rush
Baby, isn't that the way that
love's supposed to be?
He breathed in the scent of her
hair, gently felt the soft skin revealed by the low back of her dress.
"God, I love you."
"Not as much as I love
you."
I can feel you breathe
Just breathe
In a way I know my heart is waking
up
As all the walls come tumbling
down
And I know
And you know
There's no need for words right
now
'Cause I can feel you breathe
It's washing over me
Suddenly I'm melting into you
"I'll always need you,"
she whispered, as they continued to dance in a slow circle. They were alone,
not a solitary other person around.
"We'll always need each
other. That's what makes this so perfect."
There's nothing left to prove
Baby all we need is just to be
Caught up in the touch
The slow and steady rush
Baby, isn't that the way that
love's supposed to be?
"Promise me," he said
suddenly, not sure why. "Promise me we'll always be together."
"Of course," she assured
him. "Always."
I can feel the magic floating in
the air
Being with you gets me that way
"I love you."
She smiled. Three little words,
but every time he said them, she knew with the utmost certainty that everything
was right in the world. She squeezed him lovingly, and whispered
gently into his ear, "I love
you."
Jarod smiled, looked up--
--And saw a still form on the roof
of an opposite building. Just time enough to clutch her in reaction, before two
shots rang out in the night. They fell in unison, collapsing side by side on
the stone bridge. His hand fell to rest next to hers, with the tips of the
fingers meeting. The rings, one gold, one silver, continued to glow.
On the roof, the shooter removed
his black mask, brushed a hand restlessly through his dark hair. "Never
send a sweeper," he murmured with pleasure, "to do a Parker's
job."
He stood, put the gun into his
trenchcoat pocket with a thumbless hand, turned his back, and walked away
silently.
Back in their room, the wind
fluttered through the open balcony doors. Her letter lay open on the desk, where
Jarod had left it before the ceremony. Caught on the draft, it floated out,
then silently drifted into the water.
Blood began to pool everywhere,
dying the white dressed a deep crimson. Slowly it slid down the curve of her
chest, resting in the nape of her neck. The small pool of blood continued to
grow, surrounding the diamonds and sapphires of a small angel charm.
The paper disintegrated in the
water, the ink blurred into faint blue streaks. Just before the letter sunk
completely, only one line was still legible:
What allows me to go on, is knowing that you will continue to live as well. And that as long as one of us survives, so does a part of the other.
Fin.