Seasonal Round
Disclaimer: Pretender belongs to other nice folk. I just like to write things.
Author's note: Poor Miss Parker gets to be wildly OOC in parts of this one, but I liked some of the images. Each part is a drabble for my 100 drabble challenge.
061. Winter.
Miss Parker climbed out of the car and grimaced. Nothing worse than changing climates. She was invariably dressed inappropriately for wherever they ended up. Jarod did it on purpose, she was sure, although she'd never accused him of it, assuming he'd think it was a good idea. Kind of like calling her in the middle of the night.
They were in Alaska, in some place called Kotzebue. It was, essentially, the end of nowhere, and it was cold. As in bone-freezing, desperately-gasping-for-air cold. And Miss Parker knew Jarod wasn't here anymore, which made it that much worse.
062. Spring.
Making her get the flu was one thing. It was nasty, potentially dangerous, and not funny. But even Miss Parker could sometimes see the humor in a homemade bridge that dumped anyone who walked on it the wrong way. Granted, Jarod had now efficiently ruined more expensive clothes than if he had lined them up and thrown mud at them, but since it had been a relatively good day before the bridge, she just rose dripping from the water, laughing, and scared her cadre more than if she had glowered or yelled at them to find her something to wear.
063. Summer.
They weren't getting anywhere. It was hot, and the Centre's air conditioning decided it had had enough, which left the corridors and offices stuffy and claustrophobic. Broots was tampering with the gigantic fan set in the wall, trying to coax it into circulating the stale air. Miss Parker had given up on the files and was now leaning back in a chair, her eyes closed, a thin sheen of sweat on her temples, letting her thoughts drift to other summers, spent largely inside air ducts where the fan blew around and over the three children who called the Centre home.
064. Fall.
Three months ago, The Eternal Pursuit (as Miss Parker was beginning to think of it in her head) led Sydney, Broots, and Miss Parker to Oregon. Thomas had told her that fall in Oregon only lasted a week. Miss Parker was sure he must have told Jarod the same thing, because they landed in the middle of whirlwinds of leaves of all colors.
It was stunningly beautiful, the colored leaves falling against an evergreen background. Here Jarod left her a beautiful painting of the season, probably something he had done in between catching the bad guy and befuddling everyone else.