Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to The Pretender, no matter how much I wish I did. And no one seems to believe me when I try and pretend that I do. ;-)
Okay, this story is a flashback of sorts (you'll see) to the episode "Keys" (Season One), but takes place right after "Gigolo Jarod" (Season Two). Confused yet? No worries. I think you'll get it… And I hope you'll like it.
Thunder and lighting attacked as one outside the small building, but Miss Parker barely heard it. She looked up at Jarod from the floor, her gut still a mass of agony where the back-water idiot had hit her. How the hell does Jarod always manage to get the upper hand? She wanted to scream. It was just as well she didn't – she probably couldn't have taken in enough air to try.
She focused instead on the flare gun in Jarod's hand as she sat up with a groan. "Where did you get that?"
"I snuck it into the first aid kit when you weren't looking."
Her eyes widened in shock. "You were gonna use that on me?"
"I still am."
Parker's thoughts jammed as he pointed the flare gun at her head. She blinked. "You don't have the stomach," she said, decidedly missing an amount of her usual arrogance. A good hit to the diaphragm in the middle of a hurricane will do that to you.
"Do you really want to find out?" His eyes narrowed.
Apparently Jarod was the one person unaffected by the weather.
"Get up," he said in gentle command. Parker had no choice but to comply. In minutes she was tied back to her previously occupied pole while Jarod locked Bumpkin in a metal cage.
"Try gumming through this," he told the man before standing and turning back to her. She fought uselessly against the rope that crisscrossed her chest and arms.
"And you…" he said as he approached, first aid kit in hand. "You're going to have to dislocate a lot more than your thumb to get through that."
She watched him, torn between the insane urge to laugh and cry. Good god, she mused, has the man actually developed a swagger? But Parker quickly derailed that train of thought.
"Why did you save my life?" She wanted to keep him here, see if she could come up with a way out of this – find a solution that would see her returning triumphantly to the Centre, a properly chastised and obedient Jarod in tow. Though a part of her knew that was impossible.
"Because… I still remember the little girl… Who gave me my first kiss."
Miss Parker searched her memories in confusion.
Oh… my god.
The anatomical model he'd been assembling.
"You know, girls mature faster than boys."
She hadn't been sure at the time why she'd done it. Hell, she still didn't know. She'd just known that she'd wanted to. So she had. It was just like telling him her name when she'd been instructed not to.
Stubborn from the start, she thought.
Jarod turned to walk away, disappearing from sight. Miss Parker found once again that she couldn't help herself.
"Jarod," she called. His soft footsteps paused for a moment before they brought him back to her. If only life was that simple, she thought. If only things could be the way they were. Before it all went to hell.
Then again, in Jarod's mind, everything had probably gone down the drain the day he'd first showed up at the Centre. She couldn't stand the thought that this man equated her home with hell. A crappy home it may be, she thought, but at least I have one.
It's all I have.
She don't know how long it took her thoughts to run their course, but apparently it was too long for him. He turned away again.
"Wait," she said. When he put the first aid kit down and looked at her this time, Parker realized she had no idea what she wanted to say – no reason she could think of for why she wanted him to stay.
"It was my first kiss, too."
Her words faded into the lightning, though she longed to call them back. She felt her cheeks flush as he stared at her – his eyes looking beyond her. Back to the girl she used to be. But that girl had died the same day as her mother. It had just taken her a little while to realize it. Somehow, Miss Parker reasoned, Jarod had known – had treated her differently when he saw her after that. Which, admittedly, hadn't been often.
Parker blinked, noticing that Jarod hadn't moved. He just kept his gaze leveled at her, searching her face for… something. When her heartbeat spiked, she told herself it was just adrenaline from the confrontation and the storm. But she couldn't stop staring at him, either.
When she couldn't stand the torture anymore she whispered, "What?"
Jarod blinked, then lowered his gaze. "I…" When he looked up again, his eyes didn't meet hers. Instead, they stared at her mouth. She felt it gape slightly in shock.
He began to step forward, so slowly. The jump in her heart rate couldn't be excused away on the hurricane this time – though she felt like a tornado was ripping its way through her stomach. She was dizzy – the world turned upside down the closer he came. When his body pressed gently to hers, her training told her to head-butt him for a chance at freedom, but she didn't. Parker couldn't move. She couldn't even breathe.
His head tilted slightly to one side. She just stood there like Bambi's mother.
Their lips brushed, and Parker stiffened. She shut her eyes against her memory – fought her pounding heart. She was losing. Jarod brought his hands up to cradle her face as he kissed her in earnest this time. Against her will, Parker felt herself soften at his touch.
A single tear tracked a lonely journey down the side of her nose to their joined lips. Jarod must have tasted it, for he pulled back to look at her, wiping away the remnants from her cheek.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. She barely heard him over the storm that raged within and without.
"That little girl disappeared a long time ago," she said, looking away.
"I wish she would come back. I miss her." She had never heard his voice sound so tender, or so sad.
Another tear fell. "I miss her, too."
"Maybe she's the one you should be searching for."
Parker looked at him. The earnestness on his face silenced her reply.
"Maybe she's the one you should be searching for."
For an instant she wondered why she was trying so desperately to get Jarod back to The Centre. Someone like him didn't belong there.
Maybe I'm the one I should be searching for…
The harsh, loud bell of her alarm jolted Parker awake. Startled from sleep, her hand flew toward the noise. The force of the impact broke off one of the clock's legs, which she heard ping across the floor before she jammed her knuckles into her eyes.
"Damn it," she whispered. She kept her eyes tightly shut as the soft pads of her fingers trailed for a moment across her lips. She could swear they were tingling. Miss Parker forced her hand back down to her side. "It was just a dream – get over it!" Her brain refused the command, lingering in the foggy memory of the kiss.
Miss Parker rolled over and shoved her face into a pillow.
"Damn it!"
This time, she screamed.
But whether it was at herself in frustration, or her alarm for waking her, she wasn't sure.
"Damn it," she murmured one more time before pulling the sheets over her head.
She thought of Jarod's phone call the night before – of the present he'd left.
Be My Valentine, the candy heart had read.
Parker sighed in exasperation as she seriously considered shooting the birds outside her window.
She groaned, throwing off the covers and heading for the shower, avoiding mirrors the whole way. She didn't want to see her mother's sad eyes looking back at her. Not today.
Be My Valentine, Jarod's peace offering had said. Parker shook her head, still trying to break the ties of the dream to her heart.
Her heart.
That stupid candy heart.
Jarod.
I should never have eaten the damned thing.
The End
Reviews would be greatly appreciated. I've never written for The Pretender before…
