Gestalt
Part 2
by Shaddyr

The strains of a popular Latin melody wafted through the air, and Jarod jumped up to drag Miss Parker back onto the floor – not that she put up any protest other than declaring she would have massive blisters before the evening was over.  He’d grinned and reached down to snatch her shoes from her feet, tossing them in the booth beside her. She just rolled her eyes, and obediently followed him onto the floor.

He admired the way she moved with him, able to predict where he would turn her next, where they would step, just when he would spin her out, then back in – always in step and time. As they danced, the reactions he had observed all evening, her body language and other cues continued to percolate in his mind. There was something going on, something he was missing... abruptly, it gelled into a gestalt. Stopping short, he pulled her close and stared into her eyes, as if through them he could plumb the depths of her soul and discover the secrets hidden within

She tried to wriggle out of his suddenly vice-like grasp, but she couldn’t look away. And there, alone in a bubble of quiet beyond the party goers dancing all around them, the moment stretched into eternity as he pushed past the tattered remnants of her resistance to find the truth.

Despite all the skills he’d acquired, all the abilities he had, Jarod realized he was still a man – and simming or pretending notwithstanding, he was a little slow on the uptake when it came to women. Even Parker. He chided himself for not adding it up earlier – her response to the kiss, the curious lack of resistance, the variety of incongruous signals he’d been picking up from her all night – it all pointed to more than being off balance.

Tenderly, he brought one hand up, fingers tracing the outline of her cheek while his thumb swept over her lower lip. A shudder ran through her at his touch, and he shook his head in wonderment. Some genius he snorted. She's been right in front of you all night, and it takes you this long to figure it out? Could you be any thicker?

Soundlessly, he lowered his mouth to hers, only this time it was without pretense. In that moment as they stood there, alone in the crowd, he lost awareness of everything but her. Her perfume, as it swirled around them, the lingering taste of scotch on her lips – the sweet warmth of her mouth as it parted before him and the tentative explorations her tongue made of his own. A wave of dizziness that had nothing to do with physical equilibrium washed over him and suddenly he understood what he’d always known – he was helplessly and hopelessly in love with her.

When at last he drew back, it felt like rending part of himself so bittersweet was the loss of her lips. Her eyes fluttered open and they stood there, lost in each other. Unexpectedly, the dancing couple they’d spent much of the evening with shattered the cocoon of isolation about them.  Nate graciously bowed to Parker and invited her to dance, sweeping her away before she could say a word, leaving Jarod to dance with Laura.

***

Parker smiled up at the tall dance instructor, and tried desperately to behave as though she hadn’t a care in the world. Her mind was a maelstrom of confusion. Nate attempted to engage her in small talk, but she was unable to focus on anything he was saying. After a moment, she apologized and excused herself, grabbed her bag, then fled to the ladies room near the front door.

She stood before one of the mirrors and began to slowly, methodically freshen her make up. Applying a little Cocoa-Haze eye shadow, she was reminded of Jarod’s deep and mysterious brown eyes – she snapped the case shut and put it away. Right. She twisted open her lipstick to touch up the smudges; with a rush of warmth, the memory of his lips on hers filled her senses. With a sigh she put it away as well.

Removing the small brush from her purse, she began to brush her hair. It was a soothing exercise, one requiring no thought while her mind raged a war with her heart and she struggled with what she should do.

I should have shot him when I had the chance. A fine mess this was, a morass in which she was inextricable tangled, and one which provided no way out. She angrily yanked on a knot in the back of her hair, tears springing to her eyes that were as much of frustration and confusion as they were of pain. She glared at her reflection. What the hell was he doing this for? What was he after?

Amidst the roiling turmoil, the thought that perhaps he was just as surprised by this entire chain of events as she was popped up. She considered it for a moment, weighing the possibilities. If he hadn’t expected it, hadn’t simmed it, then he, too, had been caught off guard. In that case, he didn’t have any agenda – other than his original one, which she guessed had simply been to play head games with her by showing up.

The more she pondered it, the more things fell into place. As she thought back, she recalled that he, too, had seemed somewhat off kilter after he’d kissed the gun right out of her hands – she shook her head. His audacity amazed her sometimes. And there were little things he’d been doing all night. Rubbing her hands. Flirtatious comments. Sitting so close to her and keeping an arm around her even when she’d already promised not to run him in – okay, she wouldn’t trust her in his position, but she knew that he did... it didn’t add up. Or perhaps it did.

Slowly, she replaced the brush in her purse, carefully closing the clasp then checking her appearance in the mirror once more. A deceptively serene face looked back at her. Okay Jarod, she thought, steeling herself as she walked out of the room, you and I are going to have a little talk.

Scanning across the sea of bodies on the dance floor, Parker finally located Jarod, still dancing with Laura. She was about to set off in his direction when her peripheral vision alerted her to a loud and obnoxious Hawaiian-print shirt about 10 meters to her right. Glancing over she found Broots standing at the entrance to the ballroom arguing with the doorman, about to be ushered unceremoniously out the door. She covered the distance in just over a second.

“Excuse me,” she interrupted the officious man before he could kick Broots out. “I believe my assistant is here to bring me some important information I’ve been waiting for,” she continued, fixing him with a glare that could wither the most strong of will in mere seconds.

The doorman mumbled an incoherent apology before slinking off.

Parker rounded on Broots with a toned down version of the same glare. “So what is the important information that I have been waiting for that required you to crash this party and put your life in jeopardy?”

“My life in j-jeopardy?” Broots asked, glancing around nervously.

“Yes. From me if you can’t convince me in about 3 seconds why I shouldn’t have you shot at first light. One...” she waited expectantly.

“But Miss Parker, I tried to call you. You didn’t answer your cell phone!” the techie stammered in self defense.

“Two..”

“It’s Jarod, Miss Parker. Lyle has a sweeper team ready to go. I was just on my way home, but he made me go do a search for...” At the withering look, he winced. “ Anyway, he said something about a local sighting of Jarod and that they were coming here. I tried to call and tell you. I don’t know why they would come here though, but I thought you’d want to know.”

Parker felt her blood turn to ice water and took a deep breath before refocusing her attention on Broots. “Good work.” She patted his cheek. “Go home Broots. Quickly. You were never here.”

“But...”

“GO!”

Parker turned away from him and headed over towards Jarod at as high a speed as she could manage between all the bodies on the dance floor. He saw her coming, and with a quick apology to his partner, made his way towards her.  The smile on his face faded as he saw the grim expression in hers.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, tension evident in his voice.

“We need to leave, and now,” she informed him curtly, making her way back to the booth retrieve her shoes. He was right behind her.

“Parker, tell me what’s going on.” She looked up at him and saw that he wasn’t going to budge an inch until he got an explanation.  She slipped her shoes on, then grabbed his hand and gave him a yank, pulling him off balance.

“Jarod, we don’t have time. Will you just trust me on this? Please?”

After a second’s hesitation, he nodded in affirmation, and hand in hand they headed for the door. Half way across the dance floor, she stopped dead in her tracks as a her brother and a gaggle of sweepers appeared at the entrance. Too late!

“Lyle,” she heard him spit out with contempt from behind her as he jerked her around to face him. “I trusted you!” he hissed, and she realized with a shock that he thought she’d called the Centre.

Fury burst forth, and before she could check it, her hand shot out and slapped him across the face, causing a stir in those dancing around them as people moved edged away from them.

“You! Oh! I can’t even come up with a word!” she snarled at him, before grabbing his hand once more and dragging him back the way they’d come. “Okay, genius, figure out where the back door to this place is so we can get out and I can really give you a piece of my mind!” she demanded.
 

***

His face still stinging with the heat of the slap, Jarod quickly scanned the room and seconds later they were headed down a corridor to a back exit. It took him all of three seconds to jury-rig the door so the fire alarm wouldn’t go off, then they were out. They ran down the street, ducking into the first alley they found. They tried to run but Parker tripped once, then again on all the debris, till Jarod stopped her and made her sit on an upturned crate.

“You can’t run in these,” he said matter-of-factly, snagging them off her feet once more.

“Well, I can’t run bare foot!” she protested.

“I know.”

He flipped the shoes over, and with a quick snapping motion, broke the heels off both shoes before handing them back.

She stared at him in disbelief. “Do you have any concept how much those shoes cost?”

He stared back. “Do you have any concept how little fun a stay in the renewal wing can be?”

She shut up and they went back to running. Eventually, he realized that as much heat as they were generating running, the night was colder. Her clothing offered very little in the way of protection and she was chilled to the bone. He finally stopped to let her catch her breath, and he saw she was shivering violently.

He put his jacket around her shoulders, then pushed on several of the doors that opened into the alley. Finally he found one that opened and tried to usher her inside.

“No way,” she flatly refused. “I’ll take my chances out here.”

He eyed her for a moment. Damn stubborn woman. Without further ado, he simply scooped her up and carried her in

She wriggled, but couldn’t get free. “DAMN you Jarod! Do you EVER take no for an answer?” she yelled at him, the evening’s welter of emotions venting themselves in a blast of anger.

He calmly ignored her as he looked around, finally spotting an old armchair into which he placed her. As she recovered her dignity, he scouted around to see what was there. Some old newspapers. Garbage. Mostly refuse, but there was another chair. He pulled it up and sat down right in front of her.

“I’m waiting,” he informed her solemnly.

“For what?” came the old sarcastic Parker tone, the one that had been so wonderfully absent during the most part of the wonderful evening they’d shared.

He looked at the floor for a moment, then gazed directly into her eyes. Even in the dim light, he could see the anger and hurt that seethed there. “For you to give me a piece of your mind. And come up with a word that adequately describes what an idiot I was for not trusting you after I told you I did.”

It was quiet there for a moment in that old abandoned warehouse as they contemplated each other. Then quietly, she explained about Broots’ unexpected appearance and warning.

Jarod shuddered when he thought of what would have happened had Broots not appeared when he did. He realized he’d have been so lost in Parker he wouldn’t have seen Lyle until the psychopath was right on top of him. He reached out and took her by the hand.

“Please forgive me for being an idiot.”

Parker felt the left corner of her lips pull up into a smirk, and then a full-blown smile emerged. “Not every day I get to hear that coming from you. I think I’ll just savour it for a minute first.

He was nonplussed by that. “But... I apologized. Aren’t you supposed to forgive me?” he asked, a bit bewildered why this wasn’t going right.

She snickered. “Eventually. Really Jarod, you don’t know much about the relationship game do you?”
 

go to Part 3