Let There Be Peace

By Bethe

Author's Note: This is a response to Eve's Early Christmas Challenge. I know, I know, it's been awhile since the challenge has been posted, and it's a far cry from Christmastime, but the idea interested me. So sue me. Let me know what you think of it. If you guys like it, I might post it on ff.net. Wub y'all! :D ~~Bethe

Rating: PG (I might be overestimating, but I figure it's better than nothing.)

Summary: Parker decides to spend Christmas Eve alone. She ends up doing some thinking in her solitary moments, but a knock on the door interrupts her. . .

~*~

Parker carried her glass of egg nog from the kitchen to the den, where the fire was blazing. She sat down with a sigh. For the third time that evening, she questioned what was going on in her mind when she had told her father that she would rather spend Christmas Eve alone.

"Daddy, so much has happened this year, I just want to stay home," she had murmured while rubbing her forehead. Her father, on the other line, chuckled.

"I understand, Angel. Well, I hope you have a good one," he said lightly. In the background, she could hear Brigitte giggling. Parker didn't even want to know what was going on over there. Without a goodbye, she hung up the phone.

Fast forward two days, to her lonely house. She downed her glass of egg nog and reached for a nearby bottle of vodka.

What had her life become? As she unscrewed the cap of the bottle, she pondered that with her heart and mind.

Life? What life? asked a small voice inside her head. The thought caused her to grimace. It was true. She had no life anymore. It had been reduced to a game of "Daddy Says", and hide-and-seek with Jarod.

A momentary apprehension about how the vodka would affect her ulcer passed as soon as she swallowed the burning liquid, feeling it trace a fiery pattern down her throat.

She looked around, for the first time wondering why there were only two pictures of her family in her house. She had one of her mother, and one of her and her father. Where were the people she held dear? Did she hold anyone dear?

It didn't seem so. Nowadays, she kept everyone at arms length. Even Sydney, the man who cared for her more than her father, it seemed.

Syd. The thought of him caused a few tears to burn behind her eyelids. She hadn't thought to invite the old man. God only knew how he was taking this Christmas. He had no family left. He was alone.

Broots was probably alone, too. Parker knew that Debbie usually spent holidays at her mother's. She smiled slightly at all the hell she'd given him this year. She had probably caused him to lose some more hair. He couldn't afford to lose much more.

Thoughts of Broots and Syd caused Parker's train of thought to move to Angelo. He was spending yet another Christmas at the Centre. Most likely, alone as well.

Then, of course, her thoughts moved to Jarod. They always did, one way or another.

Her first thought was of when they were children: still naïve about the ways of the Centre. Those were the days when Jarod actually thought he was helping people, and Parker thought her Daddy was an important business man. Her mind drifted off to "the good old days."

~*~

Miss Parker quietly crept into the storage room.

"Jarod," she stage-whispered, looking around.

"Over here," he replied behind a stack of boxes. Parker swiftly joined him and sat down beside him. She tucked her hair behind her ears and looked at the floor.

"So, what's up?" she asked.

"Nothing," he replied after a short pause. An awkward moment of silence followed. Then they looked at each other. Jarod lightly touched her cheek with the backs of his fingers. Suddenly, in one fluid movement, Parker laid down on the floor, placing her head on his knees. Without saying a word, Jarod stroked her hair. When he felt moisture collecting on his pants, he murmured, "Hey, what's wrong?" Parker sniffed.

Even though he was only just a boy, he had the maturity of a young man. He gently took ahold of her head and lifted it so he could see her face. He asked again, "What's wrong, Parker?"

"I miss her so much," she gasped, trying to force her head down. Jarod would have none of it.

"Hey, hey," he whispered, forcing her head up so he could look her in the eyes. "It's okay to miss her." He rubbed her tear-stained cheek with his thumb. She began to sob even harder. Jarod then pulled her into his arms in a tight embrace.

"Parker, I want you to promise me something," he whispered. When he felt her nod against his chest, he continued. "If there's any time, ever in our lives, and you want to talk about something, don't be afraid to come to me. I don't care how far apart we are. It doesn't matter, even if we aren't friends anymore. Talk to me. Don't keep it inside. Okay?" Parker sniffed, then looked him in the eyes.

"I promise, Jarod," she whispered in a choked voice. He smoothed the hair that was matted to her cheeks away from her face, then cradled her head between his hands. He searched her eyes for a moment, then brought her lips to his own.

~*~

A loud pop from the fire brought Parker back to the present. She sighed before she downed another glass. What had happened to her? She had promised him that she would communicate with him, no matter the circumstances.

Tears began to slide past her eyelids and down onto her cheeks. She was really beginning to despise her decision to celebrate Christmas alone when someone knocked on her door. She hastily swiped at her cheeks before getting up.

She pulled her heavy wooden door open, and gasped, putting a hand to her mouth.

"What are you doing here?" she asked after a short silence. Jarod, who was standing in front of her, looked at his feet, then back at Parker.

"I was in town. Feeling lonely. I thought maybe you'd want some company." He then shivered and said, "It's awfully cold, Parker." She stepped back and gave him some space. He walked in, and she shut the door.

"You have a tree?" he asked, walking farther into the house.

"Yes," she replied, following him in, "It gave me something to do today."

"You were crying," he said with his back still to her, more of a statement than a question. Then he turned to her, concern written all over his face.

Parker walked back to the sofa and sat down. She sighed before beginning. "I was thinking--well, remembering." She left it at that, trying not to break into tears again. Jarod said nothing, letting her decide what to tell. Instead, he went into the kitchen and grabbed another glass. Then, he returned to the den and poured both of them a drink. He handed one glass to Parker.

"Here. You look like you could use one."

"What? Nothing witty to say about my ulcer?" she asked bitterly. Jarod sighed.

"No. Nothing witty, nothing sarcastic, nothing you don't want me to say. Tonight, we're just two normal people. Forget about the Centre for one night. Call a time out. Tomorrow the game can start back up," he murmured, sounding slightly irritated. Parker set her glass down and covered her face in her hands. After one sob, Jarod put his glass down and took her into his arms.

"That would be so nice," she sobbed, "to have just one normal night."

"A lot's been on your mind, hasn't it?" he asked.

"Remember that day we met in the storage room, a long time ago? It was about three months after my mother died. I started crying, and you made me promise that I would always talk to you about things, no matter the circumstances." Jarod said nothing, but stroked her hair, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"I don't even recognize myself, Jarod," she whispered. "I don't let anyone close. I push away anyone who cares. How did I let myself get this way?"

"Well, you like to please your father. So, you've acquired all the traits he says a Parker should have, you strive for his affection everyday. You want his approval."

"Ever since Mamma died, it's been him and me. But I was never good enough. I always do something wrong," she murmured. Jarod immediately pulled her away from him and looked her in the eyes.

"No, Parker," he replied sternly, "You never did anything wrong enough to merit the way he treated you." Parker refused to meet his eyes. He grabbed ahold of her upper arms and squeezed gently.

"How he treated you was wrong. And you know it."

"Yeah, I know," she whispered. She looked into his eyes. "Why did you really come here?" she asked, a hint of sadness in her voice. This time, Jarod's gaze became far-off as he inhaled.

"I needed to see you," he murmured, looking into her pale eyes. He gently stroked her cheek with the back of his index finger.

"Jarod," she whispered sadly, "I'm not the little girl you once knew." To her surprise, he grinned.

"Well, thank God. If you were the same little girl, life would be so much more boring," he replied on a chuckle.

"True," she admitted, laughing herself. Before she could say anymore, Jarod lowered his head and kissed her.

Parker's eyes closed in surprise, her eyebrows arched high. Then, she brought her hands to his broad shoulders. He moved one of his hands to the back of her neck, deepening the kiss. Then, slowly, they broke apart. Looking into each other's eyes, they sighed simultaneously.

"This was nice," she murmured.

"Nice? I must be getting rusty," he whispered huskily. Parker chuckled as she wrapped her arms around his neck. They kissed once more, then he rose to leave.

"Stay." The quiet word, along with a gentle hand to his arm, halted his movements. He turned to face her.

"Are you sure?"

"Just stay tonight. I don't want to be alone on Christmas."

"Okay," he whispered. "I'll stay." Jarod then sent Parker back to her room while he put the fire out. Before he left the den, he took out his cell phone and swiftly dialed a number. When the other line picked up, he only said two words: "Thanks, Syd." He hung up the phone, turned out the lights in the den, and walked out of the room.