Chapter Eleven

Miss Parker's Residence,
Blue Cove, Delaware.

Miss Parker had never really been one to willingly get up early, despite having to be awake at the crack of dawn most days to get to work, but with the conversation she'd had with Jarod running at the forefront of her mind all night, she had all but jumped out of bed the moment her alarm sounded.

Jarod could be, and most times was, the most annoying person she knew, which given the people she conversed with on a daily basis was a lofty declaration, but he had never led her astray, and she knew with absolute certainty that whatever he had sent her would be everything he suggested it was. There was a strong feeling of dread that accompanied the anticipation, mainly because she was sure she was not going to be happy with what she was about to discover, but she would rather be hurt by a truth than a lie.

Drinking her third coffee of the morning, liberally laced with her favourite Russian spirit, she stood guard over her front door waiting for the mail to arrive. She had already called Sydney and explained that her ulcer was playing up and wouldn't be in until the afternoon, ensuring she had plenty of time to digest whatever information she was about to receive.

Finally, the sound of the mailman trudging up to her door signalled the moment of truth, and a single large manila envelope appeared through her mailbox a moment later. It never had a chance to hit the ground, as she grabbed it the moment it fully came into view, and quickly rushed over to her living room couch before carefully opening it. The moment she saw the distinct logo of the Centre, the rest of the world faded away as she began to read what she knew would be one of the most important documents in her life.


Miss Parker felt numb.

She knew that the Centre had done some despicable things in its time, but reading about what they had done made her wonder if she could ever walk into that accursed place again without burning it down to its foundations.

She and Jarod had a son, a son that had been grown in a lab like some sick sci-fi plotline. Her father had signed off on the project, knowing that a child of two Red Files would exceed the genius of its parents. Raising it from birth would help eradicate what happened with Jarod and the others that escaped that night years ago, and ensure that they had a steady income from the sims they could sell.

Despite the revulsion she felt for her father and everyone else in the know about the project, she couldn't help but feel as though she had been given back a piece of her soul that she didn't realise had been missing.

She remembered the procedure she went through almost two decades ago, having been told by her doctor that she had a cyst that needed to be removed. She had no reason to believe he would lie to her, as he had been her doctor for as long as she could remember, but knowing now the way things worked for those within the Centre she should have known better.

Getting a sample from Jarod would have been pitifully easy, especially during the years when he believed he was helping the world with the simulations he went through.

Their son, for she could not think of him in any other way, had been taken from the Centre when he was but a baby from what the report stated, leading to a car chase that left all participants dead and burned beyond identification. They had made a thorough search but had been unable to tell whether the baby was even in either car or not, so bad was the fire. Not seeing any way a newborn child could have survived such an accident, The Centre had hailed the project a failure and buried it with all the other projects that would turn the most hardy of stomachs.

She knew with every fibre in her being that her… that their son was alive. There was no way Jarod would have revealed this to her the way he had if he weren't; he would have arranged for them to meet somehow and told her in person. No, their son was alive and if she had to guess her Pretender was with him right now.

Her Pretender.

It was the first time in a long time that she had ever allowed herself to think of him like that, as hers. The last time she had done so was just before her father had shipped her off to Europe to complete her education. Her talk with him last night must have broken down more of her defences than she thought. That was a dangerous thing to happen; especially now she had finally found a reason to leave the Centre for good. If her father or the living ghoul Raines, not to mention her maybe-brother Lyle, became suspicious of her, her very life might be forfeit.

She did know one thing; the only way The Centre would ever get their hands on her son or Jarod now was over her rotting corpse. The problem with that was she knew it would be a price they, including her father, would willingly pay.

Knowing she could not leave these documents lying around, as she was almost certain that Raines had one of his cronies search her house periodically, she reluctantly went over to her fireplace and placed them there, setting them alight moments later. Her only consolation was that she knew that one day soon she would meet her son in the flesh, and she couldn't wait.

Sunnydale General Hospital,
Sunnydale, California.

Jarod looked in on Joyce, seeing that Buffy hadn't moved from her position at her mother's bedside. The young woman was currently asleep, although from the unnatural angels her body was in it couldn't be a restful one, and noted that the arm of her chair had been crushed from the pressure of her grip. Her other hand was holding onto her mother's, and Jarod guessed that she put her frustration into the chair to ensure that she didn't inadvertently hurt her mother by squeezing to hard.

Knowing just how important she was to Xander and the others, Jarod had decided to ensure that we would put himself in a position to oversee her treatment, which had only taken a little computer hacking to achieve. Dr. Ramorez was a fine surgeon, and the Pretender could see no problems with the work he had done, but knew that his son would feel a lot better if her were the one to be caring for Joyce from now on.

He checked his watch and noted that she would soon need to be in school, so he gently made his way over to her and spoke softly in her ear, being mindful not to get too close. Xander had warned him about Buffy's personal bubble, and didn't want to be on the receiving end of the young woman's ire.

"Buffy, it's time to wake up."

Jarod jumped in surprise as Buffy went from asleep to completely awake within moments, quickly looking around the room before her gaze fixed upon her mother. He watched her battle with her emotions, not wanting to break down like she had last night.

"Not a dream," he heard her mutter, her voice breaking ever so slightly. Her head then swivelled round to look at him, her eyes widening slightly upon confirmation that she wasn't alone with her mother. "Hey Jarod," she said quietly as she got up to work the kinks out. "What time is it?"

"I'd say that you have enough time to get ho…" he trailed off as he realised that her home was still a crime scene and therefore would not be allowed in, "… over to Willow's to get ready for school."

"I'm not leaving," she stated firmly, moving into a more intimidating posture that, if Jarod were any other person, would have had him quivering.

Jarod almost smiled at the tone and stance she had used, having heard that tone used by Miss Parker so often. "I'm afraid that you don't have much of a choice at the moment Buffy, as the visiting hours have been over for quite some time. It's only because the new chief of medicine," he pointed to himself, "authorised it that you were allowed to stay as long as you have. Also, don't forget that Principal Snyder does not hold you in a favourable light and is looking for any reason to suspend or expel you. Even though these are special circumstances, I highly doubt that he would take them into account."

Buffy tried to look defiant during Jarod's explanation, but found that somehow she began to see what he meant. Whether it was his tone, or because he was Xander's father, or just because she could just sense his trustworthiness, she was unable to come up with a rebuttal that wouldn't make her sound like an impetuous child.

Jarod could tell the moment he had won the argument and took a risk by moving closer and placing a hand on her shoulder and squeezing slightly. "Buffy, I will be here to ensure nothing happens to your mother. She will get the best care available, and she has already shown a marked improvement from when she first came in. She'll be up and around in no time," he told her sincerely, projecting as much comfort as he could.

Buffy looked up at him and gave him a tremulous smile. "Thanks Jarod, I'll see you later," she told him, going over and kissing her mom on the forehead before grabbing her bag and leaving the hospital room.

Sunnydale High School Library,
Sunnydale, California.

Xander and Giles were currently in the middle of a spot of sparring, as the Watcher had hinted that he would like to assess Xander's level of skill first hand. He had already heard from Buffy how adept at hand to hand he was, staking two vampires in a two on one situation was no small feat for someone not blessed with a Slayer's strength or reflexes, but Giles wanted to know whether Xander had any training with bladed weapons.

There were of course ulterior motives behind his request, and especially the timing of it. Firstly, he wanted to give the young man something to take his mind of off the situation with Joyce, something Giles wouldn't mind doing himself if her were being honest with himself.

Secondly, he wanted to see whether Xander's skills were enough to assist him with training Buffy and Faith, as while he wouldn't consider himself over the hill by any stretch of the imagination, the prospect of training two Slayers was more than a little daunting.

It hadn't taken long for Giles to note that Xander would be more than up to the task of assisting him. While some of Xander's moves looked a little stiff, as though he had never actually used them on another person, he had quickly lost that and had soon proved to be as good with a sword as Giles himself, although his lack of actual combat experience did show from time to time.

The same could have been said with the quarterstaff, and again while Xander's moves looked a little wooden, pardon the pun, he was soon giving as good as he got. In the end, Giles found himself to be highly impressed with Xander's skill and stamina, and wondered just how hard it had been for him to hide so much of what he could do from everyone.

As Xander managed to disarm the older man with a quick flick of his wrist, taking advantage of Giles' minor lapse of concentration, and the Watcher put his hands up to signal that he wished to end the spar.

"Excellent work Xander, I have to say I am highly impressed with your fighting prowess. How long did you say you've been training for?" he asked, finding it difficult to believe that he had progressed so far in such a short time, especially when he had been training covertly.

"Since just after the Harvest," Xander replied, knowing that Giles was still coming to terms with everything he had told him and the others, "but I haven't really done much in the way of weapons training, as I didn't want to run the risk of joining a dojo and one of you finding out."

"I find that hard to believe Xander," Giles said, "given the level of skill you have shown."

"I have read every book I could find on the different styles of fighting, many in their original language," he explained, knowing that it may come off as being boastful, but needing to bring home just what he was capable of, "and have memorised and practised the different forms at the warehouse, but this was the first time I have been able to put what I have learnt into practise."

Giles looked at Xander in shock as he began to comprehend just what he had been told. He knew from what Xander had told him that Pretender's had the ability to quickly absorb and apply knowledge, but he hadn't been able to understand quite what that meant.

He had seen Jarod at work assessing Faith's injuries when she had fallen in from the skylight, and would have easily believed him to be a fully trained medical professional, but given Jarod's age Giles hadn't really taken into account just how long it had taken the man to be so proficient.

For Xander to tell him that their spar had been the first time he had actually used the skills that, before today, he had only read in a book and tried to copy on his own, was simply mind-boggling. If he so wished, Giles had no doubt that Xander could easily become the most highly skilled fighter on the planet, and most probably before his twenty-first birthday.

"I take it from your look that you've just become to realise what it means to be a Pretender huh?" Xander asked, a small smile visible on his face as he picked Giles' staff up from the floor and walked over to the book cage.

"Good lord."

"Yeah, but there's a flip side to it Giles," Xander told him, his voice becoming a little darker.

"What is that?" Giles asked, concerned that whatever abilities Xander had might be harmful to him.

"As a Pretender, I can sim what a person would do under given circumstances. It can be useful, but the problem is that the better I know a person the easier I can predict what they may or may not do. I now know all of you well enough that I actually have to put effort into not simming you."

"I can understand why that might cause a problem," Giles conceded, "but I have trouble seeing that as a downside."

"Do you know how fine a line it is from being able to predict a person's actions to manipulating them?" Xander asked rhetorically. "A word to right person at the right time, and I could nudge people into doing almost anything I want, and while there might be times when that would be a good, thing, the temptation to use it for more personal reasons becomes stronger every time."

"I take that is the reason you're still not with Buffy then?" Giles asked, a small smile on his face.

The Xander of a few days ago would have been completely thrown by Giles' comment, but that Xander had been no more than a character in a play. The real Xander, while surprised that the older man had said anything, wasn't in the least bit surprised that he'd made the connection so quickly.

"Pretty much," he admitted. "While I can't say the thought never crossed my mind, any relationship I have needs to be genuine for it to have any meaning to me. I sometimes feel that I disadvantage myself at times by overcompensating; I strive so hard not to use my abilities to influence people, that I sometimes ignore genuine signs of interest in case it was due to an unconscious influence."

Giles knew enough not to mention Willow's infatuation with the young man, especially now that her attentions were now on Oz. The Watcher had always had an inkling that Xander wasn't as obtuse concerning her feeling as he let on, and this new revelation just confirmed. He did wonder why he hadn't let her down gently, but given what he said about over compensating, Xander might not have been able to think of a way to do so.

"Well, I have no doubt that you will persevere," Giles told him confidently, showing Xander that he had faith in Xander's ability to resist temptation.

Even if he hadn't found out about Xander's abilities, Giles knew that the young man would never take advantage of Buffy or any other woman in such a way, his actions last year when every woman in Sunnydale lusted after him proved that beyond any shadow of doubt. Knowing that Xander no doubt felt uncomfortable with the current topic of conversation, he moved on.

"I have a request to make," the Watcher began. "Now that we have two Slayers I will find it difficult to effectively train them both, so I was hoping that you would assist me."

"Of course, but won't the Council be sending another Watcher for Faith," Xander asked, having already given the situation some thought.

He had not doubt that Giles would have been able to train both Faith and Buffy adequately, but knew that the strain of training two Slayers would quickly take its toll on the older man, and had already decided to broach the subject of helping him I the near future.

"I presume so," Giles replied, sighing slightly at the thought, "and I appreciate that you didn't use the word replacement, but I am becoming less enamoured with the Council and it's head in particular."

"I don't blame you; Quentin Travers would fit right in with the major players at The Centre, and that is in no way a compliment."

"From what you have told me about that place I'm sure that it isn't. I fear that whoever he decides to send will be more of a hindrance than a help, and if he were to hear of your abilities would no doubt report it to Travers immediately, which would not be in your best interests I can assure you."

"Oh believe me I know that, which is why we'll need to come up with a way to neutralize him as a threat to us sooner rather than later. Of course we need to deal with Goatboy before we can do anything else, and I thank you for trying to take my mind of it for a while."

"You're more than welcome my boy, I must admit that I required something to occupy my mind as well. As we're on the subject, have you or Jarod come up with a way to deal with Kakistos?"

"We have a few ideas floating around, which we will run through with you and the others tonight, but my bigger concern is assuring that Buffy doesn't decide to take the bastard on my herself, which given her history and state of mind is quite probable," Xander said, his concern over Buffy's mental state obvious.

"As long as whatever plan we use has a prominent role for her, and we convince her that her mom wouldn't want her to take unnecessary risks, I'm sure that we'll be fine." Giles noted the look he was receiving from Xander and sighed slightly. "No, I don't really believe that either."