Toxic

by MMB

What is Formula 837A, and why are members of the team searching for Jarod disappearing?

14. Epilogue

Chapter 14 – Epilogue

Parker sat in the shade of the back porch, rocking slowly as she watched over six year old Jonathan's play with other neighborhood children. All five of the children were pleased and excited that Sam and Jarod had finished construction on the tree house – and right now, all five of them were lined up at the very edge of the platform with feet dangling in mid-air, laughing and telling stories. Her hand automatically fell to the tight and massive mound that was her stomach and her unborn daughter, smoothing where the baby had landed a particularly strong kick immediately beneath a right rib. One day, she promised her baby, one day you'll be up there with the rest of them.

For the past five months, life had been relatively quiet and uneventful for her – which she'd decided wasn't such a bad way to live. At first she'd spent a few days with Sydney who, along with Jarod, had spent most of the waking hours of those days vainly attempted to find something that would trip her memories into returning. But she had eventually convinced both the psychiatrist and Jarod to let her return to what they told her was her own home. Into this summerhouse – her new-old home – she brought her little brother, who had settled on the name Jonathan that second evening away from the Centre, and settled down to make a home for them both.

It had felt strange that very first day, walking through a house that she knew was hers – because she'd been told so by those whose word she trusted – and yet not recognizing a single feature of the place. She'd opened up the closet in the master bedroom and spent the first few hours of her residency packing away the expensive silk and leather wardrobe and collection of stilettos to make room for her comfortable cottons and collection of flats and sandals. The liquor cabinet had been emptied and now held a sizeable and eclectic collection of music CDs that she'd listen to over the course of a day, depending on her mood. Cookbooks occupied once-vacant space on her kitchen cabinets, and her fridge had fresh fruits and vegetables with which to concoct nutritious and tasty meals for herself, her brother and whoever might be visiting on any day of the week. Rare were the meals when there were just two at her table – or that the two of them weren't elsewhere.

Whatever or whoever she'd been in her former life, she wasn't that person now. All that mattered to her, as she slowly began to reconcile herself to the possibility of never regaining her memories at all, was that she was happy NOW. And with Jarod and Sydney making it their business to make sure she was, and with Sam and Angelo and the Broots' right in there helping out, there wasn't much to worry about on that score.

The others had protected her from most of the aftermath of the raid on the Centre – although she'd been required to give a deposition as to what she had been told about her so-called 'accident' and her subsequent treatment, as well as given testimony at trial. Something told her, however, that Jarod's and Sydney's testimony – which she hadn't heard – had been far more complete and damning. Neither of them would discuss the details of the case with her. She found out eventually from Debbie that the man in charge – the man who'd presented himself to her as a psychiatrist named Raines – the man against whom she'd testified – had been sent to prison for life as the result of the many things he'd ordered done, both to her and to others.

In the end, it was astonishing that so many of the people who'd been around her during her stay in the Renewal Wing had ended up paying for their part in it in one way or another. She'd been shocked to hear that the man who had stood over her and told her that he was going to take care of her for a while had turned out to be a brutal serial killer – as well as her twin brother. His fate had been determined only a month earlier, this time with Jarod supplying evidence to the police beforehand as well as testimony during the trial, and now he occupied a cell in a maximum-security facility waiting for his execution date. His case, with all the lurid details of sexual perversion and cannibalism, had become nationally infamous, and lately had been often cited by death-penalty proponents to justify the ethics of demanding the ultimate price for the most heinous of crimes.

Bryon, her trainer, had been stripped of his license to practice psychiatry in the state of Delaware for his part in her mistreatment and had vanished not long afterward. Dr. Abrams had also had his license to practice medicine taken away just before he'd been convicted on several counts of battery for his part in drugging Dr. Morrison, Sam, Broots, Jarod and her – as well as for sexual battery in making her pregnant without her consent. He was now serving a lengthy prison sentence that would see him near retirement age before he'd see daylight again. Dr. Chavez had had his license to practice medicine suspended for two years for his part – his punishment the lighter for not having been complicit in sexual battery while still performing technically risky procedures without informing her of the risks involved.

Greg, her escort sweeper, had been one of many who had merely done as they were told without actually breaking any laws and who had been released without indictment. He'd tried to contact her more than once immediately following his exoneration – but between Sam's stoic determination and Jarod and Sydney's protectiveness, was never allowed to get close enough to speak to her. Eventually he had given up and vanished too.

As he'd agreed to do, Jarod now spent much of his time representing her in overseeing the dismantling and sale of Centre assets, making sure that the money went into properly established trust funds set up to either pay off lawsuit awards or to support the victims of decades of medical, emotional and psychological abuse and downright torture. Parker was shocked to discover her name on one of those accounts, and flabbergasted when she was told how much money actually was in the account. The interest alone would be enough to give her a comfortable income without ever having to worry about working outside the home again. Her little brother and unborn baby had similar accounts – but by then, Parker didn't even want to know the particulars. She filed the passbooks in a safety deposit box, determined to hand them over to each child when he or she turned of age, and simply let them accrue the interest until then.

Sydney, too, had eventually returned to the Centre to work with some of those the Centre had abused – evaluating their fitness to return to society after sometimes periods of long incarceration there or, if the damage was too severe, recommending institutions where their continuing care could be assured. However, one of the most disappointing failures the old Belgian had suffered professionally over the last few months was the need to transfer Dr. Morrison to an assisted living facility. The biochemist had never regained her memories either – although Sydney wondered whether the head injury she had suffered in her 'accident' had meant that not only was her memory damaged, but that she would never regain her ability to live independently again either.

The first few weeks outside the Centre had required Parker to make several major adjustments to her life in order to begin to fit into a life she couldn't remember. Discovering that her child was NOT that of a recently-deceased husband, but actually Jarod's, had taken some time to get used to – as well as required her to take early stock of the man who was her child's father. That he cared a great deal for her was obvious – that he was unwilling to take advantage of a woman who couldn't remember a life-long friendship had been equally obvious. He hovered over her like any other expectant father probably would when he was with her – and they spent plenty of time together thinking about names for their daughter and making plans for her. He had stepped very willingly into the position of dominant male role model for Jonathan, and now the little boy emulated him at ever turn – even to the point of attempting Jarod's trademark smirk, which the boy managed with a great degree of accuracy.

But most of all, she suspected that he'd set himself the task of becoming her friend all over again – and the plan had worked. Those who had gone out of their way to rescue her had all become at the very least good friends – but her relationship with Jarod bordered on the extraordinary. Jarod had a very silly streak that would manifest itself in many ways – ways that she would expect more of a child of ten than from a grown man. He had a dry sense of humor, and seemed to get great enjoyment from pestering and teasing her – although never letting the teasing become overly annoying. He also had incredibly dark moments when he'd abruptly excuse himself and vanish from her life for a day or two, coming back only when he'd regained his emotional equilibrium. Parker suspected that these moods came from the fact that he still missed the friend he'd had in the person she'd once been – and she couldn't blame him for that.

Lately he had begun to give her a hug before heading back to his apartment after supper each night, and she was starting to wonder if throwing in her lot with his wouldn't be such a bad idea. She could love him – she already was very fond of him – and she was beginning to suspect that he'd been in love with her, at least, with the person she'd been before. Maybe, once the baby was born, where their relationship was headed would be a topic of discussion they'd finally let happen between them. It was either that or give him a kiss during that hug – and then see where that led.

In Sydney, she found she had a father figure more than willing and eager to play the part he said had been denied him so long. He was protective and supportive and ever ready to listen to anything she had to say, regardless of topic. Any sense of balance she'd developed in regards to forming relationships with people who knew her better than she knew them was because of his patient ear and simple wisdom and sense of practicality. His love for her was deep and unconditional, apparently completely independent of whether she remembered him or not – and she found that level of emotional support and fondness comforting, refreshing and enjoyable. In time, Sydney had come to accept a more grandfatherly role in little Jonathan's life too, and the little boy blossomed with the kind of loving attention that he'd apparently never had before in his life.

Angelo had moved into Sydney's home with him, although from the beginning he would spend the day with her when Sydney was called to the Centre for more than a few hours at a time. Angelo was quiet, unobtrusive, and sometimes anticipated her needs before she'd get a chance to voice them in a way that, if she thought about it, she would have found downright spooky. Even now, as she sat watching the children playing in the tree house, Angelo was seated on the porch step only a short distance away, twirling a dandelion between his fingers and lost in the contemplation of the flower. His utterances were still short, often disjointed and sometimes downright confusing but never without reason or wisdom of their own buried inside.

Sam was a frequent guest in her house – a self-appointed guardian who spent his time taking care of odd jobs and general home maintenance when Jarod was wrapped up with complex Centre wranglings. He very quickly became an 'Uncle Sam' to Jonathan, and as Parker got used to him and began to tease him carefully, began treating her as if she were his little sister. He too had a dry wit and a ready laugh about him, and a sense of humor that was perfectly capable of keeping her in stitches. The tree house had been his idea – and he and Jarod had pooled their time and resources to get it designed and built in time for the children to enjoy it properly before having to head back to school in the fall.

The Broots family had simply adopted her and her little brother – and the time she spent in their house was almost as much as the time they spent in hers. Broots was like a little brother to her, not quite a nuisance sometimes but still loving and supportive. Debbie, on the other hand, appointed herself a built-in babysitter for when the baby was born and Parker wanted to get away for a bit. As time passed and her due date grew closer, the two women had grown very close.

Many were the times that the tightly-knit group of friends would gather around a table and spin stories about long-ago times at the Centre, with former adversaries now chuckling appreciatively at the accomplishments of the competition. But not one of them – not Jarod nor Sydney nor Broots nor Sam nor even Parker herself – wanted to talk

about the time she'd spent in the Renewal Wing and Byron's Sim Lab, especially lately. The doctor had told her that she was virtually ready to have the baby any day now – although technically her due date had been set for a date two weeks in the future. The men in her life who hovered over her and pampered her shamelessly had made it their business to keep her comfortable and upbeat in the time remaining before the baby came.

Beside her, Angelo shifted and stretched. "Going in," he said and rose to his feet. "Too hot today." He extended his hand, offering the dandelion to her.

"Thank you," she told him with a smile. Angelo was a sweet soul – she couldn't conceive of anybody ever doing anything deliberately to harm him, even though Jarod and Sydney had assured her that several of the people in the Centre would have done just that without a second thought. "Sydney's running late today, isn't he?"

"Sydney's work almost done," Angelo replied with a tip of the head. "Wants to stay close for the baby."

Parker smiled. "Somehow, I think this little girl will never lack for someone to watch over her."

"Daughter special," Angelo nodded in his wise way.

"She'll be special how?" This was the best conversation Parker had had with Angelo in weeks.

"Special because YOU special," he replied with a knowing look. "Real you just lost. Come back soon."

Parker leaned back in her chair and executed a move that she, in a fit of sarcasm that had felt amazing comfortable, had begun to call 'Blimp Rising' – pushing herself from the chair and getting to her feet belly first. "I hate to tell you this, but I don't think I'm going to get unlost anytime soon, Angelo," she commented and stuck the dandelion behind her ear so that it was a bright yellow dot in the middle of sleek dark hair. She twisted and modeled the flower. "What do you think?"

"Sydney back," Angelo answered instead and scampered through the kitchen door on his way to the front of the summerhouse. Now that he mentioned it, Parker could finally hear the sounds of the car motor coming closer and then abruptly shutting down. By the time she'd maneuvered her bulk through the kitchen door, she could hear Sydney's musical voice answering the empath.

"You stayed quite a while today," Parker remarked as she headed for the refrigerator to give him a glass of fruit juice – her way of welcoming him back from the Centre.

"It was my last day," Sydney told her, stepping closer to drop a kiss on her cheek and give her a quick, tight hug of the shoulders. "Once I was finished with my last appointment, I had an office full of forty years of collected stuff to sort through before I could leave."

"You didn't tell me you were quitting…"

"It's a luxury that I have now that I don't intend to squander," he replied, accepting the glass from her. "I never thought that I'd ever escape that damned Sim Lab with my skin intact. Now that I have the chance, I'm not going to blow it!"

"And just what do you intend to do with your more-than-ample free time now?" she teased him gently as she replaced the pitcher of fruit juice.

He waited until she'd shut the refrigerator door to put directing hands on her shoulders and steer her to a kitchen chair. "Make sure that you don't have that baby here on the kitchen floor because nobody's around to drive you into Dover to the hospital, for one thing," he told her. "Jarod and I've discussed it – from now on, someone with wheels needs to be on call at all times."

"I've still got two weeks…" she began to complain, only to have him shake his head at her and still the rest of the comment unspoken.

"Babies don't always follow the schedules adults set out for them – especially when it comes to the day and time they decide they're ready to be born," he grinned at her. "I'm not taking any chances with my granddaughter."

"You, my friend, are nothing but a big softie," Parker announced and bent forward as much as she could to kiss his cheek.

"Far from it," he retorted with a pleased smile. "Nicholas and his wife have decided not to have any children – so you're my last chance."

Parker's face twitched as she felt a quick tightening in her belly, but she dismissed it as nothing when it lasted only a moment. "So Jarod is on his own now, eh? What about the damaged Centre victims list?"

Sydney shook his head. "Actually, I've been processing them faster than I thought. The last transfer to a secured facility happened this morning. I then met with Jarod to hand over the last of my files along with my keys – and he told me the rest of the day was mine. I tossed everything that was of any value to me into a box and left the rest of it for whatever fate awaits all the detritus of forty years of Centre employment."

"It will be nice having you around a little more," she admitted then. "I think Jonathan will enjoy having you around more too."

"He's a sweet child, Parker. Have you thought of adopting him?"

Parker nodded. "I've thought about it – but I figured I'd wait until little Miss Patience here decided to make her entrance before getting any of the legal hoops and ladders lined up." Her hand smoothed over her belly, which had grown even tauter than usual and felt tighter from the inside for a change. "He's already calling me 'Mommy' sometimes, you know, rather than 'Sissy'…"

Sydney nodded. "I've heard it slip out a few times lately – just as I've heard him call Jarod 'Daddy.'" The old psychiatrist gazed at her intently. "How do you feel about that?"

She shrugged. "It doesn't bother me – after all, he is the baby's daddy…" She grimaced and ran her hand over her stomach again in an attempt to get it to relax. The tightness was becoming slightly uncomfortable. "What I DON'T know is how Jarod feels about it."

"You do realize that Jarod will love that baby with all his heart, don't you?" Sydney leaned back in his chair comfortably. "And I have a feeling that if Jonathan starts calling him 'Daddy' to his face, he'll probably accept that too. Jarod's always wanted a family he could call his own…"

"He HAS a family – in California…"

"I know he does," Sydney admitted, "but I think he's always secretly harbored a hope that one day you and he…"

Parker looked down at the table. "And now I'm not the woman he knew," she said softly.

Sydney put his hand out and covered hers warmly. "Parker, whatever Jarod feels, I'm sure he feels it for the person you are now. I don't think he's pinning his willingness to make a life with you on your finally remembering who you are and everything you've been to each other all these years. The fact is that you have a daughter together that will be born soon, and there is a little boy who already looks to him like a father. That's the kind of family I don't know he ever thought he'd be allowed in his lifetime…" His voice fell silent as he watched her grimace once more and go back to rubbing the tight lump in her abdomen. "Are you OK?"

"I'm sorry, Sydney," she told him contritely. "I don't know what's gotten into me…" Suddenly her eyes opened wide. "Oh, my!"

"What is it?" Sydney demanded, concerned.

Slightly frightened grey eyes looked into his. "I think if you want to keep me from having this kid on the kitchen floor after all, you'd better get me into Dover NOW. My water just broke…"

oOoOo

Jarod just couldn't stop staring at Parker with his new daughter at her breast. After all the months of waiting, he was a father for the first time; and he wasn't exactly sure how he felt – about fatherhood, about the baby, about Parker, about a lot of things. And being that uncertain about that much wasn't a feeling Jarod was used to or appreciated much.

The baby had come very quickly – had been delivered, actually, before he'd been able to do much more than extricate himself from his meeting with the stockholders and reschedule his entire next few days' worth of more meetings with lawyers and other officials involved in the dissolution of the Centre. He'd then driven like a bat out of Hell for the hospital in Dover – to be met by a tired but exhilarated Sydney, who had stepped in and performed the duties of a labor coach for her in Jarod's stead. The older man had congratulated him heartily and almost immediately headed back to Blue Cove to take charge of little Jonathan Parker while his big sister was away. That left Jarod to ponder the drastic changes that had taken place in his life of late – the most recent laying almost asleep in her exhausted mother's arms a few paces away – in private.

Nothing in the past few months had been easy or straight-forward. Neither he nor Sydney had been able to uncover the proper memory trigger to counteract the heightened effect the sustained dosage of Formula 837A had had on Parker's amnesia – and Parker herself had finally convinced Jarod and Sydney to just let the matter rest for the time being. She'd moved into the summerhouse they told her was hers and started the long process of making it a home for herself and her little brother.

No longer afraid of the Centre's shadow with all who would want his capture sitting in jail awaiting trial on a number and variety of serious charges, Jarod took a small apartment in Blue Cove to be closer to her without pushing himself forward as anything other than a friend who also happened to be her baby's father – as well as her official representative to the world in matters dealing with the Centre. He'd sent word to his parents and siblings in California as to what had happened and his decision to stick around at least until the baby was born and after the greater share of the lawsuits settled or litigated. While they had complained a little, they had eventually understood – and had even made a short visit three months earlier.

Sydney and Jarod had quietly hoped that having Ethan around for a time might have proved to be the memory key – but it wasn't to be. Parker quickly developed a very close rapport with her half-brother, but otherwise continued to remain in the dark about her former life. Jarod's mother, Margaret, had finally forgiven her son for being so intent on staying in Delaware after seeing the change in his former huntress, and had lent her advice and her memories about pregnancy and motherhood to Parker in a move that brought the two women closer as well. Charles had been gracious to both Parker and Sydney, seeing how Jarod was truly fond of both of these people from his past. Emily had remained skeptical for the entire visit, never really getting comfortable so close to the Centre and amid some of the Centre elite – while Justin had been unabashedly smitten by the woman who had been the first person in his life to have been kind to him.

It had taken them all time to get used to looking at a face that was so familiar, and yet being forced to get to know somebody completely new – completely different. Parker was far more gentle-spoken and patient than MISS Parker had ever thought of being – and more domesticated as well. She had avoided all of the expensive clothing that had once been her trademark in favor of soft cottons and long denim dresses, and expressed a disdain for the three inch stilettos and immediately acquired deck shoes and a small assortment of other flat-soled shoes and sandals. Discovering that food could actually taste GOOD as opposed to the green nutritional supplement the Centre had been feeding her, she had spent time acquiring cook books that she now enjoyed plumbing for meal ideas, rather than being content with take-out and eating constantly in restaurants. Moreover, she discovered that she enjoyed entertaining – and her evening meals were rarely events just for herself a little Jonathan anymore.

As her delivery date had loomed closer, the one person with whom Parker had bonded with the tightest beside Jonathan was Sydney. Freed from pressure to try to find memory keys or to psychoanalyze everything she was going through, Jarod knew for a fact that the silver-haired Belgian had discovered the pleasure of just being there for her in a quasi-parental capacity. Beside Jarod, he was the most likely dinner guest at the summerhouse – and easily as protective and pampering of her as if, as he said, she were his own. Little Jonathan had lately begun calling Sydney 'Grandpa' – and the old man relished that new aspect of life immensely.

Jarod had religiously refrained from trying to insinuate himself closer to her than she was willing to let him get on her own, however. Their friendship was deep and strong – but Jarod always harbored a slight fear that, with all of her deciding for herself about whether she liked this or that, if he tried to press his case with her on the basis of their shared parentage of the child she was carrying, she'd reject him completely. As time went by, he was less and less willing for that to happen. The day she'd made a comment about being as big as a garbage truck and needing a backup alarm to move folks out of her way was the day that he'd discovered that he'd fallen in love with her all over again – with the person that she'd become without her memories and the sweet-sour of their long-standing relationship. And now, sitting there with his daughter born and in her mother's arms, and with the end of the lawsuits his reasons to stay in Delaware beginning in sight, he found himself suddenly wondering what would happen next. He didn't relish walking away…

Parker looked up and saw the Pretender watching her with eyes more intense than she'd ever seen from him before. "You don't have to stay all the way over there," she smiled at him in tired invitation. "She is YOUR daughter, after all…"

"I didn't want to intrude," he said softly, stirring himself from the chair he'd placed by the window in the private room. "You both looked so contented and peaceful."

She shook her head at him and used her free hand to pat the mattress next to her. "You deserve a chance to get close and be introduced," she countered. "Don't be shy."

Jarod perched himself on the very edge of the bed and peered down into the tiny face nestled against Parker's hospital gown. "I didn't think she'd be so small," he whispered so as not to disturb her rest.

"She was over seven pounds," Parker told him proudly. "The doctor said that if I'd actually made it to my due date, she might have been even eight pounds. Believe me, that's not small!"

Very, very carefully, Jarod used the back of his index finger to stroke down the newborn's cheek, drawing back in surprise when the mouth began moving as if she were sucking. This little scrap of life was his – his and Parker's – and he simply couldn't believe it. He'd had over six months to get used to the idea – six months to watch Parker get more and more round and maternal – but now that the moment had arrived and he was face to face with the baby, he was overwhelmed. "You still want to call her Hope?" he asked, entranced.

"The name fits, don't you think," Parker replied, watching his face. "Do you want to hold her for a while?"

Jarod's eyes grew wide and alarmed. "I don't know…" he began, but Parker had already very carefully shifted her little bundle until the baby was in his arms before he knew it. Hope made a soft sound, but didn't awaken. The Pretender held absolutely still, captivated by the smell of the baby, by the little weight against his arm. Finally he raised his eyes to Parker, and they were shining in amazement and a little dazed. "My God, Parker!"

"What do you think, Dad? Do we make nice kids or what?" she grinned at him tiredly.

"Amazing!" was all he could say as he sat next to her, holding their daughter for the first time. "Simply amazing!" He looked over at her again, and their gazes caught and held each other tightly – and in a moment of impulse, he bent carefully over his daughter to give Parker a gentle kiss on the lips. "Thank you," he murmured, still drowning in storm-grey.

Parker smiled softly back at him and allowed one hand to gently cup a cheek, rapt in her contemplation of intense dark chocolate. "Thank you," she replied.

oOoOo

The celebratory meal the next night took place at the Broots' – mostly because the Broots' house had the larger kitchen and the bigger dining table, but also so that Parker didn't have to face cleaning house on top of the exhaustion of taking care of a newborn all hours of the day and night. Broots had brought out his christening gift – a bassinette – but Hope had yet to spend any quality time in it whatsoever. Men who had hovered and pampered and waited with eager anticipation for her arrival had taken turns holding her – and Parker had been amused to watch grown men who were otherwise generally quite serious and mature melt like marshmallows the moment her daughter landed in their arms.

At the moment, it was Sydney's turn – and the old man hadn't taken his eyes off of his new 'granddaughter' from the moment she'd been handed to him. Sitting beside him on the couch, Parker was in a position to see the expression of utter adoration in his eyes as his big hand straightened some of the fine, dark hair, smoothed down the infant's cheek and straightened her gown. On the other side of her, Jarod watched his former mentor and then leaned into Parker's ear. "Watch out - Grandpa's bonding," he whispered, making her snort and then chuckle.

"You had your turn at the hospital," Sydney grumbled very softly at the quip without looking away.

"That is going to be one spoiled kid," Sam shook his head indulgently. He resolutely refused to consider that it had been HE who had walked and rocked the fussy baby so that Parker could eat her dinner quickly before having to duck into kitchen to nurse. He'd only done what was necessary, after all, to see to Miss Parker's well-being – nothing more. No spoiling was involved there at all – no siree!

"Why not? She deserves all the things that Parker and I never had," Jarod stated emphatically, "and I intend to make sure she has them."

"You mean you're not going to head back to California to be with your family, now that the Centre is nearly all boarded up and empty?" Broots asked with eyebrows flying.

Jarod saw Parker's head turn to watch his reaction, and he shot her a quick glance. "I'm going to be sticking around for a while yet," he admitted. "California isn't going anywhere."

"Uh-oh." Sydney turned toward Parker as Hope began to stir and make sounds indicating displeasure. "Time to go back to Momma."

"Yup, she's every two hours, like clockwork," Broots stated, peeking at his watch and then looking over at Parker sympathetically. "Until she starts sleeping through the night, she's going to give you a run for your money."

"I've got a nice, comfortable rocking chair in my room," Debbie suggested as Parker rose with Hope draped over a shoulder, working up to a healthy cry. "You can rest at the same time as you feed her."

"You're on," Parker replied tiredly. Broots was right – this every two hours thing was getting very old very fast. She reached for the diaper bag, knowing that to be an inevitable necessity at some point in the process as well. "Lead the way."

Parker carried Hope up the stairs while hearing the gentle teasing that Jarod was getting about not heading back to California faded into the distance. Debbie had the light on in her room by the time Parker hit the top of the stairs, and she took the diaper bag and retrieved supplies as Parker began to unbundle her daughter. The young woman watched Parker expertly handle getting the drenched diaper off and a fresh one on with a minimum of time and fuss. "You're starting to look like you've done that for ages," she commented with a smile. "Nobody'd believe that you'd never babysat at all before you took care of me anymore…"

"I'm finding out one learns this in self-defense," Parker responded, shoving the dirty diaper in a plastic bag for disposal later and stowing it with the rest of the supplies. She took out the blanket she'd wrapped Hope in for the trip outside and carried it over to the rocking chair, then draped it over her shoulder so she could nurse her daughter without fear of embarrassing herself or someone else if they should walk in on her. As Hope latched on with a ferocity that spoke of a good appetite, Parker sighed and rocked in the chair gently.

"You look tired," Debbie noted sympathetically.

"She seems determined to put me through my paces," Parker replied with a nod. "She's like her father – always in a hurry."

Debbie thought for a moment and then went over to her desk to retrieve something. "You know," she began a little shyly, "I was thinking you might want this back now. You can read it to her when she gets a little older."

Parker looked at the thick book in her hands and then up at Debbie. "What is it?"

"Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott," Debbie replied. "When you took care of me that first time, you began to read it to me – and it was so nice…"

"Tell you what," Parker stated, making herself just a bit more comfortable in the sturdy, wooden chair, "why don't you read a little bit of it to me? I could use something to help me relax without putting me to sleep at the moment…"

"OK," Debbie replied, and sat down on the edge of her bed facing her guest. She opened the book to the very beginning. "Chapter One. 'Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents,' grumbled Jo," she began reading, just as Miss Parker had once done for her so many years ago. It was one of her own favorite memories of years past – hopefully it would be as restful for Miss Parker now as it had been for her then. "'It's so dreadful to be poor!' sighed Meg, looking down at her old dress. 'I don't think it's fair for some girls to have plenty of pretty things, and other girls nothing at all,' added little Amy, with an injured sniff."

Parker leaned her head back against the wood of the rocking chair and closed her eyes. Debbie was right, having someone read to her WAS relaxing.

"'We've got Father and Mother, and each other,' said Beth contentedly from her corner." Debbie's soft voice continued. "The four young faces on which the firelight shone brightened at the cheerful words, but darkened again as Jo said sadly, 'We haven't got Father, and shall not have him for a long time.' She didn't say 'perhaps never,' but each silently added it, thinking of Father far away, where the fighting was..."

It took a moment for Parker to notice that the voice reciting the words from the thick book had changed – modulated in her mind – the voice speaking had become deeper, older, gentler. It was a voice she hadn't heard for a very long time… All of a sudden her eyes opened wide, and it took great concentration not to tighten her hold on her daughter to the point of doing her harm. That was her MOTHER'S voice!

Then she was glad her head was against the wood of the chair, for her world sudden tipped and twisted and turned this way and that as voices from her past forced themselves into her mind relentlessly:

"Trust me, Angel…"

"I tell you what – when I die, I'll will you my shirts…"

"It can only be 'you run, I chase,' just like always…"

"Miss Parker, are you all right?"

"Momma! Momma!"

"Have you always been so mean?"

"Yes."

"No, you haven't…"

"Broots! You lovable moron! We're in here!"

"The first one to succeed, survives."

"Who ya gonna trust, Angel – Jarod, or me?"

"He's not here, Miss Parker…"

"C'mon, Syd – let's go see what your trained monkey is up to this time."

"You might want to strip-search this one…"

"Don't you just LOVE Chinese food?"

"What did he ask you to do Parker? Kill him?!"

"Don't you even want to know if it's a boy or a girl?"

"Don't you have anything better to do than to dig in the past?"

"Easy thing for you to say – at least you have one…"

"Momma!"

"Miss Parker?" A hand landed on her arm, and she opened her eyes to see a very worried-looking Debbie had moved close. "Miss Parker! Why are you crying?"

That was right – her face was drenched from tears that had evidently flowed freely down her cheeks and even down her neck. She brought out her free hand from beneath the blanket and began wiping at them. "Do me a favor, Debbie?"

"Sure – what do you need?"

"Ask Sydney to come up here for a bit?"

Debbie frowned, but: "OK. Are you SURE you're all right?"

Parker worked hard and pasted on a fragile smile. "I'll be fine, Debbie, honest. Just go get Sydney for me, will you?"

The moment the door had closed again, Parker put her head back against the wood of the chair and heaved a huge sigh. At her breast, Hope cooed and caught her attention – and she shifted herself so that the baby could nurse more efficiently, and then began to slowly shake her head at the impossibility of it all.

It just wasn't possible! That Raines and that slime-ball of a brother of hers would… It took work to remember that they were now behind bars, if not awaiting a date with Madame Death. They had stolen so much – and what they'd done to her in the meantime. How could they…

And yet, as the baby suckled rhythmically and that pulling echoed through her body, she calmed and cradled her newborn closer. This wasn't an experience that she would have missed for anything – regardless of how it had come about. For the first time, she understood the intense and protective love her mother had shown her all that time – understood it because she felt it too, for Hope.

Very quickly, her mind reviewed the events of the last six months – and she looked at her actions and reactions in order to measure whether now she agreed or disagreed with the path she'd chosen. Strangely enough, even with her memories now firmly in place and open to review, there wasn't a thing that she regretted. She would have loved to have known what she was doing when she'd testified against that bastard, Raines – but knowing he'd never bother her or hers again was satisfaction enough. To know that neither she, nor Syd, nor Broots, nor Sam, nor even Jarod, had to step lightly for fear of what would come down from the Tower at them was almost a painful release. She was free.

There was a gentle knock on the bedroom door, and then Sydney carefully stuck his head around the corner. "Debbie told me you asked for me?" he stated with concern, his eyes on her face for the signs of tears that Debbie had said were everywhere. Yes, her eyes were puffy – her face had that look of emotional overload to it. What had happened now?

"Come in, Syd, sit down," she said, gesturing with the hand that had come out from beneath the blanket for him to take the place that Debbie had occupied on the edge of the bed. She wiped again at her eyes.

Sydney blinked at an old nickname he hadn't heard from her for a while and then moved into the room. "Parker?"

Storm-grey eyes came up to meet his, and he could see warmth and happiness and triumph and hesitation all rolling around together in their depths. "Hi, Syd," she replied in a soft voice that held a special tone that he hadn't heard for nearly a year.

"My God!" He sat down heavily on the bed in shock. "You remember?" She nodded and then busied herself with closing up her blouse and putting Hope on her shoulder after putting the blanket up there for protection. "After all this time – what in the Hell…"

"Debbie started reading from the book my mother gave me just before her stunt in the elevator," Parker explained with a small sigh. "It just started piling on from there."

Sydney watched her carefully as she patiently rubbed her newborn daughter's back to work out all the air bubbles, seeing the beginnings of an amazing amalgam of the incredibly strong survivor that she'd always been with the soft and gentle person he'd become accustomed to seeing lately. "Are you all right?" was the only question that he could think of, as inadequate as he knew it was.

"No," she replied, her eyes meeting his. "Because just as I didn't know any of you for the longest time, now I won't know who you're responding to – the person I've been for the last six to seven months, or ME."

Sydney crossed his arms over his chest reflectively. "Something tells me that you haven't quite figured out who you are yet either," he noted pointedly. "You told me once, not long after we got you out of the Centre, that the person you had been and the person you were then had nothing in common. Do you still feel that way?"

She looked away. "I don't know how I feel yet," she admitted carefully.

"What about Hope?"

Parker lifted her daughter away from her shoulder and held her out so she could get her first really GOOD look at her, and then clutched the baby close to her again. "I felt her grow inside me, Syd. What do you think?"

"Just making sure," he smiled at her. "I'm just protecting my own here…"

"Are you, Sydney?" she asked softly and very cautiously. "Did you really mean what you said when I climbed out of that ventilation duct?"

Sydney rose and walked over to her. "Parker, I meant every word of it – I'd just never had the courage to speak it in so many words before. I didn't regret saying it then, and I don't regret having to say it again now – if that's what you need." He put out his hand and stroked her hair gently to punctuate his words. "You are the daughter I never had – and Hope is my grandchild and as precious to me as a jewel."

Parker leaned forward slightly and rested her forehead against his side. Had he always felt that way – and she just hadn't seen it? His closeness and comfort now suggested it – but would have to be left for later contemplation. First things first… "I suppose I should tell Jarod…"

"Yes," his voice rippled with amusement at the very typically Miss Parker way she had approached that question, even as his hand sheltered her head against him, "I suppose you should."

"It will change things." She remembered that gentle, brief kiss in the hospital and wondered if she'd ever get a chance to try that again. Six months of being friend and co-parent with Jarod had worked their magic – and combined with her remembering the way she'd felt about him all along, she was already preparing herself for disappointment and rejection.

Sydney bent down to look her directly in the eye, his hand warm on her shoulder now. "No it won't," he stated firmly. "It hasn't yet. He's still here – and talking about not leaving after all."

"But that was for her," she complained sadly, speaking of her amnesia-ridden self.

"That's for YOU," Sydney insisted. "Just wait, and you'll see I'm right." He backed off and gave Parker his hand so she could pull herself from the rocker. "He's taking you home tonight, isn't he?"

"Yes…"

"Then you'll find out quickly enough whether it matters." He put his arm around her. "But now, we need to go share your good news with the others."

Parker nodded, took a deep breath and leaned into him carefully so as not to disturb a quietly watchful Hope as he steered her toward the short hallway and stairs back down to rejoin the others. In a way, it felt like she'd be meeting all these people all over again for another first time – but she knew that no matter what, they'd be there for her. Just like always.

This was truly a day for celebration.

oOoOo

"I got the diaper bag," Jarod announced after pulling his sports car to a halt in front of Parker's summer house, "and Jonathan - you get Hope." He pulled his driver's seat forward and reached for the small boy who had fallen asleep in his booster. "C'mon, Tiger," he called and roused the child enough to put his arms around the man's neck and cling as he was dragged from the car.

Parker could help but smile as she carefully unstrapped her child from the infant seat that Jarod had bought and installed in the tiny back seat area of his performance sports car. He'd gotten both child seats without telling her – even though he knew she'd purchased a set for her own sedan. Sydney had told her the signs were all around her – perhaps they were, and she'd been missing them all this time.

"Can I offer you some tea before you go," she asked, punching in the alarm code and then inserting her key in the lock. "Just let me get her settled down…"

"You don't have to fuss," he told her, following her into the house and depositing the diaper bag in the place that seemed to be its resting place between jaunts before continuing on.

"It's no fuss," she shook her head as she walked down the short hall toward the guest room that had been turned into a nursery. "You got him?"

"Yup. One small boy, just about completely out," Jarod chuckled as he stopped in the bedroom before that one and carefully dumped his burden onto the bed. "Time for bed, Jon-Jon," he soothed as he peeled away sneakers and socks and jeans and tee shirts from a child who, for all intents and purposes, was already sound asleep; and then tucked him in without bothering with the pajamas beneath the pillow. One night's sleep as a he-man in his undies on a warm, summer night wouldn't hurt the boy at all.

The light was still on in the nursery, and Jarod walked into the room to find Parker staring down at her daughter who lay fast asleep in her crib. He walked up behind her, knowing that she'd noticed his approach, and put his hands on her shoulder and looked down at the sleeping infant with her. "Hard to believe, isn't it?" he asked softly.

"A lot of things are hard to believe," she agreed, surprised at the assumption of intimacy on his part, "including suddenly remembering everything after all this time."

He smoothed his hands down her arm gently. "How about that tea?" he reminded her, thinking that the discussion that needed to take place would best happen somewhere other than in the baby's room.

Parker nodded and moved away from those warm hands on her shoulders, leading the way down the stairs and to the back of the house. "Sit down and make yourself comfortable," she stated as she moved to fill the teakettle with water and put it on the stove.

Jarod watched her bustle around, compiling a teapot in preparation for boiling water and pulling down two mugs from the cupboard. "We need to talk," he said quietly and firmly.

"I know."

A long moment passed in silence. Then, "I need to know what you want."

Her shoulders hunched for a moment. "Even if I'm not sure what it is that I want yet?"

He paused to consider, realizing her question was a valid one. "How about telling me what you DON'T want?"

"What I don't want," she repeated, moving to a chair opposite him and sitting down. "That isn't easy either."

"You must have SOME idea…"

"At least give me credit for not being an emotional basket-case, for Christ's sake, willya?" she barked at him. "I still haven't exactly figured out who I am yet – because I know I'm not who I was walking into this mess, and I'm damned sure that I'm not the Molly Milquetoast you rescued."

"Even without your memories, you were no Molly Milquetoast," Jarod countered defensively. "You stood up for yourself when you felt the need – THAT much of your natures didn't change."

"You know what I mean…" she sighed.

"And you know what I mean," he shot back. "Now that Hope is here, we need to decide a few, very important things…"

"Like whether or not you go back to California when the Centre finally closes its doors for good."

He nodded slowly. "That's part of it," he admitted.

Storm-grey came up to gaze at him steadily, and yet Jarod could see real apprehension in their depths. "If I wanted you to stick around…"

"I would," he finished for her, "but not just as a friend."

She continued to look at him. "What do YOU want, Jarod?"

His lips quirked into a slight smile. "You know – you've always known."

Parker blushed and looked away. "Just because I gave you a daughter…"

"That isn't it and you know it," he interrupted with a rude gesture that wiped away her thought. "It's never been about your just being pregnant with my child, Parker."

"Is there more than that, Jarod – really?"

He gazed at her intently. "Do you want there to be?"

The teakettle chose that moment to begin the prelude to a full boiling scream, and Parker rose to tend to her tea. "I think…" she said as she carefully filled the ceramic pot.

"Yes…"

"That I'd like to see if there is." She carried the pot and mugs to the table. "This has to sit for a few moments…"

"That seems to be a pattern," Jarod quipped, then turned serious again. "I'd like to try too – if you'll let me. I just don't want to force you…"

"God, Jarod, you had your chance to force me for the last six months and haven't – I seriously doubt that you'll try now that I have ALL my wits about me!"

As she watched, his face lightened and his lips twitched again in irrepressible humor. "This could prove interesting."

"To say the least," she returned.

"Sydney will be thrilled."

"Syd's a cupcake – and a closet romantic. I just never knew how much of one."

"Sam will be disappointed."

"Sam?" she sputtered and chuckled at the same time. "You're dreaming!"

"Then there's Broots and his crush…"

"You sound jealous," she observed pointedly, picking up the pot and pouring into first one mug and then the other.

"I can be very jealous," he replied, his voice several notes lower. She looked up sharply and was impaled by the intensity of his gaze. "When it comes to you, I could be quite possessive. Are you ready for that?"

Finally she let loose her own burgeoning emotions – feelings that she knew she'd been denying to herself for years but had admitted only a few days ago to her less-repressed amnesiac self. "And you don't think that I could be the same way?"

Slowly he rose to his feet and walked over to her and, taking both her hands in his, pulled her to her feet. "All or nothing, Parker," he warned. "I don't have it in me after everything that's happened to do this half-way.

Her eyes flashed in the same way they always had when confronted with a challenge – and then began to sparkle with a light of their own. "Since when have you ever known me to do ANYthing halfway?"

He gazed at her and then let his lips touch hers very gently, very briefly, very reminiscent of the kiss he'd given her the day before – and then caressed her cheek gently before setting her away from him physically. The time for more than that would be later – when she'd recovered from giving birth and from having her memories restored to her. For now, it was enough to know that doors between them previously closed had been unlocked and propped open.

"Sit down and drink your tea, Parker," he told her with a gentle smile, "and then I think I'll be off. You're tired and could use what little rest you're going to get before Hope wakes up again – and I could use the rest myself. Something tells me that tomorrow will be a very interesting day – and the start of a very interesting new chapter in my life."

"OUR lives," she corrected archly and retreated to her seat. She raised her tea mug. "A toast: to turning points taken at last."

And the clink of ceramic against ceramic spoke volumes.

FIN

A/N: I would like to express my gratitude to my regular reviewers: Doranwen, Nancy, GimmeABeat, whashaza, Katescats. After not posting to FFN for all this time, it is nice to see this place still active.

The next story that will begin to appear here, starting next Saturday, will be Out In The Cold. So stay tuned...

-MMB