DISCLAIMER: The characters of Miss Parker, Sydney, Broots, Jarod etc. are the property of MTM Entertainment and NBC and TNT from the TV series "The Pretender." The characters of Angela Bennett, Sorcerer, Trelawney, Anna Kelly, Hearney etc. are the property of Columbia Tristar Television, USA Network and Winkler Films from the TV series (not the movie) "The Net". This an independent fan production for the sole purpose of free entertainment only without any intent to infringe or do harm to the rights of the owners.

A/N: A crossover story? Yes, this was my first solo crossover story I ever began to write and I finally completed it! Even if you haven't seen either The Net or The Pretender each back story gets explained within the text. (Written in 1998 and 2001) This story still is one of my favorites, I hope you like it.:)

SPOILERS: "The Net" pilot episode.

Part One

The collision was unavoidable. He ran around the corner of the building from the right, she came barreling from the left. And almost before either party knew it they were staring at each other from their prone positions on the pavement.

"What! What are you doing? Outta my way," the young woman glanced over her shoulder. Her lips were parted and an expression of worry filled her eyes.

"I'm sorry! I didn't see you in the dark," the man replied, also looking over his own shoulder as he spoke and his breath came rapidly.

"That's what I'm counting on," she replied as he helped her somewhat clumsily to her feet.

He didn't immediately release the hand he had offered in assistance. "You're frightened," he said, giving her a questioning look.

She pulled away. "Look, I'm sorry but, if you don't let me go, we'll both be in trouble."

He blocked her path. "You don't want to go that way," he assured her. A mutual understanding passed swiftly between them. Both were running. Both needed to hide. Neither had time to explain. "Come on."

They ran down a dark alleyway, hand in hand, so as not to lose each other in the dark. The sounds of footsteps behind them reached their ears.

"Wait! Down there," she pointed.

In another moment, the man was replacing the manhole cover. He gripped the cold rungs and climbed down the ladder. The man and woman huddled in the dark at the bottom of the metal ladder. A chilly draft blew up from the sewage tunnel and a pungent smell came with it. They held their breath and listened in silence to the noises overhead.

Footsteps echoed above and then the noises of an engine followed. A car door slammed and a male voice that seemed louder than the rest bellowed, "Don't you tell me you've lost her!" There was a muffled reply. "What do you mean a woman stopped you? Who is she?" There was a sudden shift in the speaker's voice and his tone was that of controlled fear, "I advise you ma'am to put down your weapon. FBI. Agent Trelawney." He apparently was showing some ID. "Obstruction of justice is a serious offense."

A voice edged with ice but clearly feminine floated down to them. "If you have your sidekick put away his gun, I will."

There was a pause.

"Hearney. Put it away," Trelawney directed. "We're searching for a woman in her mid-twenties. Brown hair, brown eyes. Her name is Liz Marx and she's a very dangerous terrorist. If you've seen her..."

"I haven't. My sweepers have been combing this area looking for a man named Jarod. We would have noticed her. Have you seen him?" She must have held up a photo. "He's wanted for everything in the book."

"No," Trelawney's voice seemed calmer now. "But we'd be the first to know. And your name was...?"

"No time to chit chat. I have a job to do. Let's move, people!" The footsteps began again and the sound of the engine roaring to life until these sounds blended together creating a din and then grew fainter and fainter until they died softly away into the night.

There was a soft sound as the two listeners below stopped holding their breaths. The woman squinted as a bright light suddenly flashed in her face, displaying her bright brown eyes and the similar tone of her hair plainly to the man who held the flashlight. She blinked and held up her hands to shield her face and then quavered, "Jarod? It's not what you think."

The man, who did not object to being called Jarod, replied, "Who are you?"

"My name is Angela Bennett. I accidentally discovered a group of computer terrorists called the Praetorians. They erased my life. They made me into a criminal."

"Why?"

"They thought I knew something." Angela clutched the front of her sweater and twisted it. "But I didn't. But now I want some answers and I'm not going to stop until I get my life back."

"And I should believe this because...?"

"Because if it happened to me, it could happen to you. To anyone. They have to be stopped," she replied, earnestly. "And you can't be perfect, you weren't hiding down here to keep me company."

Jarod redirected the flashlight beam so that it no longer glared in her face.

Taking heart at this action, Angela continued. "Look, I know it sounds crazy. Running from a secret organization...on some type of quest for the truth." She pressed her hands together, attempting to steady her nerves.

Jarod made a clicking noise with his tongue. "Not really."

Angela looked at him in surprise. "You mean you actually believe me?"

Jarod grinned and said, "It's good to meet you, Angela."

Angela slowly returned the smile. "It's good to meet you too, Jarod. If I may call you that." Her eyes had finally adjusted to the light and she saw his eyes were brown and his smile, genuine. He didn't object to the name.

They shook hands.

"Why do you believe me, Jarod?" Angela asked, pointedly.

Jarod sniffed and said, "Why don't I explain in a place where there's more pleasant aromas?"

"Mmm." Angela breathed in the fragrant odor from her cup of gourmet coffee and then remarked, "Now, that's what I call a pleasant aroma!"

The waiter set a plate of salad in front of her and then spooned the dressing of her choice onto the plate. "Are you ready to order?" the waiter asked.

"Yes," Jarod replied, coming out from behind his menu. "I have a question for you though. This dish...Min...a... stroni," he tapped the menu. "Now what exactly is it?"

"Um, Jarod," Angela interrupted. "Have you ever eaten Italian before? That's a type of vegetable soup."

"Oh," Jarod said, "I'll have that."

The waiter nodded and took their menus away.

"So now are you going to explain why a man like you who was just hiding with me in the sewer a few hours ago has the cash to buy me a change of clothes and now treat me to this fancy dinner?"

"If you tell me...who is Trelawney?"

Angela shook her head and took another bite of salad. "I've already told you, Jarod. You know as much as you'll ever want to know about him. What about you? I don't even know your last name."

Jarod grew serious. He folded his hands under his chin and replied, "I don't know it. When I was very young, I was taken from my family. The people who took care of me after that did everything to make me forget them."

"I'm sorry," Angela said, shaking her head sympathetically. "It must be awful. Forced to forget your family." She looked at Jarod and asked, "So that woman who was looking for you wasn't really from any government agency anymore than Trelawney was?"

"No," Jarod replied. "Her name is Miss Parker. She works for a corporation known as the Centre. That's where I grew up."

"Those people took you away from your family. Why would they do something like that?"

"I'm what they call a Pretender. I have the unique ability to become anyone I want to be. While at the Centre, they made me do simulations and then..." Jarod paused. "They used and sold the results of the simulations to make terrible things happen." A sad look clouded Jarod's eyes.

"Hey look, Jarod. It's okay." Angela picked up on some of what Jarod was feeling. "Don't blame yourself. You couldn't have known. You don't have to talk about it. We'll change the subject." She took a sip of coffee then tilted her head and asked, "Can you really be anything?"

Jarod nodded.

"A race car driver?"

Nod.

"Um..." Angela looked up at the ceiling trying to think of something harder. "A doctor? A lawyer?"

Nod. Nod.

"An astronaut?"

Once again, Jarod nodded and he was smiling again.

Angela burst into laughter. "No way!" she said. Then, she realized he was absolutely serious. "You really must be a genius then. And you do this while you're searching for your family?"

"Well," Jarod replied. "When I pretend, it's to help people."

It was Angela's turn to look serious. "Jarod," she asked. "Could you help me get to a computer?"

"Broots!" Miss Parker's voice came over the phone so loudly that the computer tech flinched and held the phone away from his ear.

"Um, speak...speaking," Broots muttered reluctantly.

"I want you to pull up everything you can about a Liz Marx and an agent of the FBI. I think he was called Trelawney. Understood?"

Broots had picked up a pencil and was trying to scribble the key words down while balancing the phone between his head and shoulder.

"Broots!" Miss Parker cried, impatiently. "Are you there?"

"Yeah, yeah. Marx. FBI. Tray...no Tra-lawn-ee. Trelawney. I got it. How's Sydney?" Broots asked. The phone slipped out from under his chin and he made a grab for it, catching it before it could hit the floor. He half wished that he had been allowed to go on the trip with Miss Parker and Sydney, but the other half was content to stay in the relative safety of the Tech room.

"Oh. Just as analytical as ever. Get to work. I'll call you in one hour."

Miss Parker's phone snapped shut and she turned to Sydney.

Sydney shook his head. "I do not see the point of this, Miss Parker. Jarod is not the type of person to shield criminals."

"No," Miss Parker agreed. "But he protects the innocent."

Angela swiftly ran her fingers over the keys of the computer like it was an old friend. The words "Online chat--Sorcerer" appeared at the bottom of the screen as she accessed a private chat room. A chat screen appeared and blue words scrolled up on the screen as a cultured voice was heard over the connection along with the words that had appeared.

Sorcerer: Angel? Angela, where have you been? Did you do it?

Angela moved the small microphone on top of the computer to the position where it could best pick up her voice and spoke into it. Her own spoken words flashed up on the screen in red.

Angel: No. Ran into Praetorians. Close shave.

Sorcerer: Are you alright?

Angel: I'm fine. I met this man. Maybe he can help us.

Sorcerer: Hold on, Ang. Back up! Now who is this man?

Angel: Hard to explain. In 1963 a corporation known as the Centre isolated him for their illegal research. They exploited him. But now he's escaped. And running...like me.

Sorcerer: I see. But why did the Centre want him? What's his name?

Angel: His name is Jarod and he is a genius. Calls himself a Pretender. He says he can become anyone he wants to be. He's looking for his parents.

Sorcerer: Ah, I see. Who's helping who, Angel? Can you trust him?

Angel: Can you trust a man who has a bagful of different IDs? And you'll never guess how he got us in here to use the computers. He *pretended* to be the new history professor. At least that part of his story checks out. I don't know. I'd like to...but maybe it's just wishful thinking.

Sorcerer: Or maybe your problem with not trusting anyone is surfacing.

Angela shrugged and wriggled slightly in her chair before answering.

Angel: Do I have any reason to???

Sorcerer: You use different IDs yourself on occasion. You must believe some part of his story. Why else would you have asked him to help you? What does your gut say, Angel?

Angel: It says...I can.

Sorcerer: Well then, find out if he's interested in helping our cause. We've lost some time. Contact me as soon as you know and I'll have another plan ready for you...I trust you, Angel.

Angel: Okay...Thanks.

Angela smiled and then logged off the computer.

PRAETORIAN GUARD
FIELD OFFICE

Trelawney was staring at a life-size computer projection on the wall of Angela Bennett's face. "She gets more and more clever," he mused half to himself and half to Anna Kelly, his lovely personal assistant. His eyes were fixed on the face in admiration.

Kelly walked up behind Trelawney looking at the larger than life face with a concealed jealousy and remarked, "She got away this time, but I know her signature. The work she does...the pattern formed of her actions. Her fingerprint. She can't hide forever. I'll trace her."

"And yet," Trelawney breathed. "The enemy is stalked. The enemy escapes. Each time she learns something new."

"She makes mistakes," Hearney said, joining the conversation with a bored tone. He privately thought that Trelawney admired that girl too much. He scowled at the picture as if it was only good for target practice and then walked off to look at another computer screen.

"Kelly," Trelawney motioned and immediately Anna went and took a seat at a computer, raising her fingers over the keyboard and looked over at him with a questioning readiness.

"What have you found on the woman who hampered our capture of my enemy?"

Anna's fingers fell to the board and a hundred clicking noises arose from it. The wall projection now changed to an auburn-haired woman who was standing on the street conversing with a white-haired man.

Kelly's voice now narrated the pictures on the screen. "Her name is Miss Parker and her companion is a man named, Sydney. They originate from a place called Blue Cove, Delaware. Their purpose..."

The projection changed to Miss Parker holding up a photo and questioning someone walking across the street.

"To find and capture a man known only as Jarod. Jarod is on a mission to defend the innocent and he is a genius. What he is capable of and his whereabouts we were unable to attain. Which can mean only one thing."

Trelawney interrupted her. "He's good at hiding and his personal records are still being kept on what destroys and ravages the forests each year, but makes the lumbermen richer. Paper."

Kelly nodded.

The projection changed once more to a still of Miss Parker's face. "Do you want her deleted, sir?" she asked, her eyes gleamed at the prospect while her face remained immobile.

"Why bother? She knows nothing." Trelawney frowned, picking up a device and clicking backwards and forwards through the pictures they had just viewed.

Kelly pushed her chair away from the computer and studied him as she awaited instructions.

Trelawney spoke. "This Jarod character...he sounds familiar, does he not? Defending the innocent? Doesn't it remind you of our elusive but brilliant escape artist? And how strange of them to disappear from their pursuing parties at the exact same time." He looked at Kelly.

She listened in silence, awaiting the point he was trying to make. She looked back at him in expectancy. "So--" she began. She stopped suddenly and adjusted the headphones on her head in a listening attitude.

"What?" Trelawney asked. "What is it?"

Anna Kelly stood up. "Operation Green has entered the third phase."

Trelawney motioned across the room to Hearney. "Let's go." The three headed out the door.

Angela handed Jarod a printout from a newspaper article. "This is Albert Fitzgerald, billionaire. And this is his daughter, Hannah." She handed him a photograph of a brown-haired, brown-eyed girl riding a bicycle.

"She's been kidnapped," Jarod stated.

"Yes," Angela nodded, raising her eyebrows. "How did you know?"

Jarod pulled a red notebook from his jacket pocket. He opened it to a page and pointed to the same picture of Hannah. "Something I was working on," he explained. "When I heard she'd been kidnapped and how hard her father had been searching for her I knew I had to help. But how are you involved in all this? What does it have to do with the Praetorians?"

"It has everything to do with the Praetorians," Angela assured him. "I was supposed to prevent the kidnapping from happening. But when I went to get Hannah the Praetorians had already gotten to her first. I just barely escaped."

"How did you know the Praetorians were planning to kidnap Fitzgerald's daughter?" asked Jarod, who had only begun working to find the kidnapped girl after the fact.

Angela hesitated a moment. "There's someone I'm working with. He's good at getting information on the Praetorians. Sorcerer. We hope someday the info we've been gathering will be enough to stop the Praetorians. In the meantime, we do what we can."

Jarod cocked his head with interest. "He's the one you wanted to talk with privately when you were using the computer."

"Yes," admitted Angela with a sheepish grin, remembering how Jarod had left her in the computer lab and conveniently made himself scarce when she had wanted to talk to Sorcerer.

Jarod listened silently as Angela explained further. He seemed particularly interested when somehow the name Evan Bennett slipped into her explanation of what had happened to her.

"Who's Evan Bennett?" Jarod interrupted.

"My father," Angela said, trying to hurry over that part to Sorcerer's plan of action.

"When did he disappear?" Jarod asked a moment later.

"In 1984," Angela said in exasperation. Discussion of her father was a taboo subject most of the time. She found it too painful to talk about him. "Now please, pay attention. This part is important. What I have asked of you is extremely dangerous. These people are ruthless and..." Angela swallowed hard. "Remember how I told you they killed my best friend and framed me for it. Well, that isn't all. Anyone who gets close to me is at major risk. If they find out you're helping me, they'll go after you too. You may have to leave the country--Change your whole identity. And even then, nothing's guaranteed."

Change his identity? Jarod kept back a grin. His identity was safe...even he didn't know it. And he changed it every week.

Jarod didn't appear worried, at least not for himself. He looked at Angela's face with concern though, sensing something else underlying her warning and asked, "What happened?" Angela appeared close to tears and as there were no time for tears, she stood up and said, "No use dwelling in the past. Maybe I'll tell you about it later. Right now, if you still want to do this, I guess we should get started."

Jarod nodded. "Do I get to meet Sorcerer?"

Angela tilted her head and with quick wit began to poke fun, "I don't know, do you?" Without explaining she grabbed her bag and headed for the door. Jarod picked up his own case and followed.

"Well?" Miss Parker's voice once again blared over the connection and once again Broots held the phone away from his ear before responding.

"I checked the computer and it all checks out. Liz Marx is said to be an international terrorist. Very dangerous. She has a long record and is known most for cyber hacking and electronic espionage. I'd hate to be in her shoes."

"What about Trelawney?"

"I'm at a loss there, Miss Parker. I looked into the FBI files and found him but..."

"But what?"

"It was strange. I can't explain it. Something wasn't exactly right about it. Maybe if I had more than just the name..."

"Find out what it is!"

"I will," Broots promised. "And I assure you that--" CLICK! Broots hung up the phone, grumbling, "I hate it when she does that." He looked at the phone and a light dawned his eyes. "I'll have to do this the old fashioned way," he said to himself. He quickly sat at his computer and pulled up the Federal Bureau of Investigation's telephone directory.

Sorcerer: Angel, is that you?

Angel: Yes, its me.

Sorcerer: Is Jarod with you? Has he agreed to help?

Angel: He's out on an errand. But he's ready and willing.

Sorcerer: What a relief! Tell Jarod we're glad to have him aboard.

Angel: I will.

Sorcerer: What's that? Is there something else?

Angel: Hmm. What do you mean?

Sorcerer: I know that tone in your voice, Angela. What's on your mind?

Angel: You're being really nosy today, aren't you?

Sorcerer: I'm only trying to help.

Angel: Well, I was thinking about what Jarod told me. The Centre used his simulations to make terrible things happen. It sounded so much like what the Praetorians did to my father. That group they gathered at Copper Canyon. 1984.

Angela sighed. She remembered so vividly the trip she herself had taken to Copper Canyon after she first had started running from the Praetorians. She had been searching for answers. And discovered boxes stacked up to the ceiling. Boxes full of files. One box in particular had caught her attention. The one labeled with her father's name. Evan Bennett. That was where he had gone in 1984. Why hadn't her father ever returned?

But before she could discover the answer to that mystery, she had been forced to flee and Copper Canyon had been destroyed.

Sorcerer's words snapped her back from her momentary reverie.

Sorcerer: We're going to right the wrongs committed, Angel. Did you receive the plans I sent you?

Angel: Yeah. I'm downloading them now.

Sorcerer: You know I'll help you in anyway I can. Whatever you need, I'm there for you, Angel.

Angel: I know. Well, I better get going. Gotta a lot to do before tonight.

The red pickup truck pulled up to the curve. Jarod and Angela hopped out and closed the doors quietly. Each of them were dressed in janitorial suits.

"This is it, Jarod," Angela said. "This building is owned by the Praetorians. This is where Hannah is."

Jarod looked up at the tall building. "You and Sorcerer are absolutely certain about that?" he asked. He silently assessed the building, weighing it weaknesses and strengths.

"Yes, Sorcerer did some hacking and that's how he found out she's being kept here. The Praetorians were trying to extort money from Mr. Fitzgerald but for once they couldn't find anything to use against him."

"Except his daughter," Jarod replied with a determined look. "Let's go." He opened the door and got out.

Angela exited the vehicle also. The two walked to the back of the pickup in order to unload it. Angela was excited. "Okay...well this a great plan to get in the building...but as for getting out--Well, I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it," she said.

Jarod agreed gravely. "But however we get out, it'll have to undetectable."

"We can't risk them seeing you, Jarod."

"Then, I'll work on being as invisible as I can," Jarod said.

"Good." Angela held a mop with a bulky head, while Jarod pushed a large mop bucket filled with supplies. The interlopers walked into the building and past the front desk without being questioned.

Once inside the janitorial closet their uniforms underwent a dramatic change and instead of the janitorial apparel they now wore black jumpsuits. Jarod pulled out a laptop computer from the mop bucket, while Angela secured some lengths of rope and cords, a few pulleys and a screwdriver. Then, they slunk out of the closet and crept down the hallway until they reached their desired location. A room with a computer that hooked into the security systems of the entire building.

"Well, Broots. What have you got?" Miss Parker challenged him.

Broots was ready. "Miss Parker, you're not going to believe this."

"Try me."

"I called the FBI and asked to speak to Agent Trelawney."

"And?" asked Miss Parker, sharply.

"Nobody who actually works at the Bureau has ever heard of him. It's like he only exists in the computer database."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning he is one good hacker."

"More or less. He's wasted my time and I won't rest until I get to the bottom of this. And this Liz Marx. Is he working with her?"

"Not that I can tell," Broots replied with a thinking tone in his voice.

"What is it?" Miss Parker demanded.

"Nothing," Broots replied.

"Spill it!"

"I," Broots hesitated. "Well, I was thinking. If this Sean Trelawney could forge a FBI identity maybe he's forged others. And if he's forged others maybe I can find out what those are...and if I find out..."

"Then, you could zero in on him and tell me his possible location now," Miss Parker mused. "Do it! Get back to me as soon as you gotten the information. I want to know everything you find out about this character. And..."

"I know. Call you as soon I find it."

"Good boy!" Miss Parker approved.

A/N: Are you running from a secret organization? No? Then, read and review. Thank you:)