Disclaimer: The Pretender is not mine; it belongs to MTM, evil NBC which canceled it, etc. Jarod belongs to Miss Parker and vice versa in my mind.
*Note: I got the idea for this story from the episode A Virus Among Us, especially the very ending. The woman in the bathroom who answers the door when Jarod who was posing as an exterminator looked so much like Miss Parker,(in the 2 seconds they showed it looked like her to me anyway.) So somehow, I got the idea for this story. I was really at a loss for a title. If I find something better in the future, I'll change it. Any/all suggestions welcomed.
Spoilers: A Virus Among Us
Rating: PG-13 for language
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,,Panacea,,
Miss Parker got up from the couch slowly. The simple act drained all of her energy. She fixed her silk robe around her. She opened the door, holding onto the door for balance. No one there. "Listen you little shits, I'm going to track you down, and kill you!" she said loud enough for whoever the pranksters were to hear. "When I can stand." she muttered, feeling dizzy.
She heard giggling coming from a bush. She had half the mind to go over there and pick them up by their scrawny necks and toss them onto the curb. A large rock with the word 'witch' scrawled on it in red finger paint adorned her doorstep, looking like a strangely out of place objet d'art.
Her house was considerably farther than that of the other neighbors, yet they still felt the need to haunt her. She heard a chorus of children's voices singing. "Ding dong, the wicked witch is dead!" That was it! The little pricks were going to get it!
She never got the chance. The nausea escalated and she slammed the door and rushed into the bathroom. Jarod was going to pay for giving her the flu. That was for shit sure. And it wasn't just any flu, it was the stomach flu. She hadn't been this sick in years. For the first time in a long time, she was forced to call in sick. She was thinking of taking a day off, and calling in sick sometime this week but puking her brains out wasn't exactly what she had intended.
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Overwrought with fever and fatigue, she passed out on the couch fast. She was in limbo between conscious and unconsciousness. Her body was asleep but her brain and senses were only on a break and alert. She smelled something. It smelled good. Almost like....Stop hallucinating, Parker. She was so cold. Vey cold. Sleep. She tried to let her mind lapse into a state of oblivion, a state where she could be at peace. A place where she would not feel, see or hear anything.
She tried but failed. She felt fingers trail down her face and over her hair. She saw the silhouette of a man against bright white light. She smelled grass and clasped it with her hands. Where am I? Why am I here? How did I get here? Who is this man?
She was not afraid. An odd sense of calm swept over her. The man was here to help her. She felt safe. No one could hurt her now.
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She heard a noise. Her eyelids flew open and adrenaline coursed through her as she spotted the figure hovering above her. A hand rested on her forehead. Where was her gun? On the coffee table. He was blocking her access to it. Shit!
"Looking for this?" he asked, grinning. He brandished the gun before her like a carrot before a horse. She tried to sit up and reach for it, like a child just missing the brass ring on a merry-go-round.
"Give me that!" she snarled.
"What makes you think I'd actually give you your gun back?"Jarod queried. She tried to sit up once more and grunted in frustration. "You really should rest, Miss Parker."
"You got me sick, you bastard!" She coughed loudly.
"And I'm sorry."
"How trite."
"You should really learn to lock your front door. Some lunatic could just walk right in."
"Some lunatic just did."
"I'm glad to see that despite your illness, you still have your sense of humour, Miss Parker." He held up the rock the children left on her doorstep. "Someone left this for you."
"I saw." She was going to call the Centre to pick up his ass. Where is my cell phone, she asked herself? Upstairs. Fucking dammit! "Today is not your lucky day, Jarod."
"Quite the contrary. You're in no position to threaten me. And you're unarmed."
"Quite the contrary." she said, mocking him. " I have a weapon. I could lose my lunch all over you without notice."
"That's why I got this." he said, motioning toward a bucket beside him.
"Lovely." He placed his hand over hers. She tried to swat him away. Jarod tried to sit her up. "Don't touch me! I can do it myself." She struggled for a bit before finally attaining a half sitting position. He put a pillow behind her to prop her up.
He lifted a mug off the coffee table and handed it to her. Miss Parker eyed him suspiciously and took it from him. She stared at it, then met his eyes. She smiled skeptically. "What are you trying to poison me with?"
"It's not poison, it's chicken broth."
"Same difference if you made it. Syd didn't exactly raise you on a gourmet diet, and unless you became a culinary chef since I last saw you..." Her voice was becoming hoarse and forced her to stop speaking. She coughed.
"Relax. It just said to add boiling water. Drink up."
She hesitated before finally taking a sip. "Why the hell are you here?!"
"Why do you think?" He handed her a piece of toast.
"To torture me. I can barely stand and am no match for you. I think you like that."
"I don't like seeing you sick."
"Well, boy wonder, you're the son of a bitch who made me this way!"
"That's not why I got you sick."
"Well, from your stint as a virologist, I'm sure you know there are better ways of acquiring immunity then getting the flu. Next time, I'll just settle for a flu shot, thank you very much!"she scoffed.
"Cute."he replied.
"I don't do cute." Her voice became raspy once again. She took a sip of the warm liquid and nibbled the corner of the toast.
"I had to prove something to you."
"And what may that something be?" Her azure eyes pierced through him.
"I wanted to prove to you that you can't be on top all the time. You have a weak side, Parker."
"I am *not* weak. And it'll be me laughing all the way back to the Centre when I nail your ass!"
"You didn't let me finish. I wanted to prove to you that you need someone."
"I don't need anybody!" she snapped, careful to enunciate each and every word to drive her point across.
"That's why you haven't been taking care of yourself. You haven't eaten in two days and can't even make it up the stairs."
"I haven't been hungry, the couch is comfortable and when the hell have you started caring?!"
"You're not taking care of yourself because you don't care what happens to you. You don't chain smoke and live on coffee and scotch to make yourself feel better, even though it temporarily does work. You're alone, Parker. You think no one cares, so why bother?"
Tears welled in her eyes. "How would you know what I feel?" she asked him. "You...do... *not*... know... me!"she said slowly, her voice growing angry and raising in pitch. "Do *not* pretend you think you do! You can't save me. I don't need saving! What your problem is that you're always trying to save everyone, heal everyone. You try to be the world's fucking panacea, the band aid that makes it all better! I don't need *anyone*!And I sure as hell don't need *you*!Get out!"
She wanted to throttle him right now, but she didn't have the strength. How dare he try to cure her...cure her of her loneliness. How dare he think she needed to be taken care of when a little thing like the flu slowed her down. She was fine. She didn't need anyone. She recited it in her head like a mantra.
He got up and stared her down. "You're wrong, Parker."
Miss Parker watched as Jarod walked out. She got what she wanted, didn't she? She chased him away. She let him go.
Now she was alone.
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