Resolutions – 25

Settling In

by MMB

Miss Parker sighed as the light from the morning sun chose that moment to begin shining right into her eyes, and she shifted and then smiled as she snuggled against Jarod's shoulder without opening her eyes at all. His arms tightened around her and he sighed as well. This was what it was all about, she decided as she lay there soaking up the reality of having the man she loved beyond reason next to her. She snorted silently at the thought that, if their positions relative to each other were considered, it would be questionable as to whether she had finally caught her Pretender or whether HE had finally caught HER.

She slipped an arm around his waist and snuggled closer, feeling him give just enough so that they both could be comfortable. It really didn't matter — they were together again and nothing would separate them again. And sometime today they would begin to discuss plans for making this living arrangement very official — as if making it official would change anything other than her name. Parker-Russell — she rolled the hyphenated name over in her mind and decided she liked the sound of it.

"Good morning," Jarod rumbled into her ear in a low and sleepy tone.

"I thought you were still asleep," she sighed back, snuggling in just a bit closer and letting her hand at his waist wander just a bit over his warm skin.

His arms closed around her and he chuckled. "Keep that up, and I'll be quite awake very soon."

She chuckled with him. "I'll have to add Energizer Bunny to my list of names for you, I swear…"

"I told you that we would need to sleep in this morning," he reminded her and then nibbled on an earlobe. "I thought you understood my meaning."

"I did." Miss Parker rolled and looked down into Jarod's dancing dark eyes. "Mind you, I'm not complaining," she told him with a smile and then bent down to kiss him. "Not complaining one little bit."

"That's encouraging," he smirked at her and raised his head to capture her lips in yet another fiery kiss that sent shivers of delight all the way down her spine. His hands spread wide and smoothed across the silky expanse of her back and down to the swell of her hips. When finally his lips left hers, he pulled her very close. "I've learned my lesson, I swear! I can't live without you beside me, Missy."

"Good, because I can't live without you anymore either," she whispered gently and rested against him while her heart slowly calmed down again from his kisses. "I think if you tried to leave me again, I'd have to haul out my Smith and Wesson and convince you to change your mind."

"Not in front of the kids, I hope," he chuckled again.

"The kids!" She jerked suddenly, remembering that there were other people in the house. "Jarod…"

"Hush," he calmed her, pulling her close again. "If I know my Mom, she's already got them fed and clothed at least. Besides, now that I have you to myself, I'd like to talk a bit," he smoothed his hands over her back again as if to calm her. "I've been wondering if we shouldn't start thinking about whether or not we want to have any more kids eventually — especially now that we're together again permanently."

She moved so that she could look at his face. "You mean, have a child the old-fashioned way?"

"The two we've got now we've gotten all the other ways known to man and science — surrogacy and adoption," he reminded her gently. "Don't you think we should have at least one we made together, the way parents usually have kids?"

"I'm not so young anymore, Jarod," she countered, ignoring the tug at her heart at the idea of a baby, "and we do already have two very special children..."

"You don't want to?" he asked her with understanding in his eyes.

She snuggled back down. "I didn't say that," she sighed. "I just think that we'll need to think about it a little bit more first — there are risks involved because of my age. And we aren't even married yet."

"We'll need to talk about that today, when we're over at Syd's again," he agreed. "But we know it's going to happen — so it's a moot point. As for having a baby, the risks to you and the child would be manageable, considering that you have a talented assistant that can take a lot of the stress and pressure off of you as time goes on. Lots of women have babies at your age and do quite well at it."

"What about you?" she asked seriously. "It's one thing to accept responsibility for a child of yours that you had no way of knowing about, or for one you fell in love with after the fact of their birth," she whispered to him. "It's another thing entirely to go through the whole process – morning sickness, sleepless nights, dirty diapers… Are you really sure…"

"Whenever I thought of actually having kids of my own," he told her gently, holding her tighter, "I could never think of having them with anyone but you. All my life, I've waited for you. And I have to admit that I would like just one more child — one that you and I make together. And yes, I'm really sure I'm ready for morning sickness and whatever else goes with that."

"A baby." She smiled and settled against him again. "How ironic."

"How so?"

"Here we are, talking about the possibility of deliberately setting out to have a child, and Deb and Kevin are sitting on pins and needles hoping that they didn't accidentally conceive one while they were discovering the wonders of sex."

"And Em and Nathan are finally pregnant again after a very long time trying to give Sammy a little brother or sister," he told her, his hands smoothing across her shoulders. "Don't you think it's our turn too now?"

"We haven't exactly been careful," she reminded him pointedly. "I didn't see my doctor at all to get back on the pill after you and I finally got together — and we've never even thought about, much less had the time, to make a trip to the drug store for more mundane contraceptives. We're kinda in the same position Deb and Kevin are in — only now you're hoping that we HAVE…" She thought about it for a moment. "Then again, maybe that's not such a bad way to do things…"

"What are you suggesting — that we just let Nature take its course?"

"Jarod, I'm thinking that considering the amount of tinkering that the Centre has done with my system, that I may not be able to have…" She took a deep breath. "If we deliberately try – and fail – we'd be setting ourselves up for heartbreak as time goes on. I don't need any more of that, and frankly, neither do you. If, on the other hand, we simply work with whatever hand we've been dealt…" She paused and thought again. "I've often wondered just how badly I got messed up on the inside when they harvested all those ova to create those embryos back when – the batch that Davy came out of, I mean. What if they made it impossible…"

"Shhhhh…" he soothed again. "I can take letting Nature take its course for an answer. If we're meant to have a child, we'll have one – and we will love that child just as much as our others. If not, we still have Davy and Ginger — and I can be content. After all, I have you too." He kissed her forehead. "Is that what you want?"

She nodded. "I think so. If I am meant to have a child, then the sooner I do, the better. I'm not getting any younger."

There was a bump and then a crash from somewhere in the house, and finally the two in the bed could hear the sounds of Margaret's raised voice. "I suppose we should go relieve Grandma of all responsibility pretty soon," Jarod commented, tightening his hold on her.

"I'll even be nice and let you have the bathroom first," she chuckled and stretched to kiss the end of his nose. "But don't be too long."

He let go of her and rolled to his side of the bed and reached for the boxers that lay in an abandoned wad on the floor near the bed — then snagged the blue nightgown and handed it back to her. "Here."

"What? You don't like the view?"

Jarod turned. She was sitting up in bed, the bedclothes covering her legs and lower torso but having fallen away from her otherwise. She was a vision to stir the blood — dark hair tousled and bare-chested. "On the contrary, I like the view very much," he growled at her. "But if you intend for us to get downstairs and relieve my Mom anytime soon, you'll need to put that on."

With that, Miss Parker threw back the covers and stood up to walk over to him, just as naked as he was. "Then again," she said as one eyebrow quirked mischievously as she watched his expression change in reaction to the enhanced view, "sharing a shower sounds good too."

"Not letting me out of your custody, is that it?" he asked as an arm snaked out and caught her to him.

"You know the routine," she purred, her nails raking down his chest very gently, "you run, I chase."

"Promises, promises…"

"Oh, you look wonderful," Deb commented worriedly as she walked into the kitchen and caught her first glimpse of her grandfather, sitting at the table nursing a cup of hot coffee. For the first time since she'd known him, he'd come to the breakfast table unshaven and looking like he'd just roused from a bad dream. "Didn't you sleep well?"

"Not particularly," Sydney replied in a very tired voice.

"I knew I should have brought you another one of those pain pills," Kevin remarked from the doorway as he too caught sight of his wore-looking mentor. "I thought of it this morning, when I got up. Jarod will kill me for forgetting last night."

"I could have gotten up and taken one myself, you know," Sydney reminded his protégé with a grumble, then sipped at his coffee again. "I just didn't feel like it at the time."

"Sydney…" Kevin began in a cautioning tone.

"Do you want something to eat?" Deb asked, looking over the kitchen and seeing that, other than coffee, her grandfather hadn't prepared himself any breakfast — not even the toast and jam that were his regular fare. "Maybe that will help…"

"I'm not hungry, Deb," Sydney replied, finally looking up at her and trying to smile. "Thanks anyway."

"Grandpa, you've got to eat," Deb came over and put her arm around the old man's shoulders. "And you need your rest. Maybe we should call Miss Parker and have her hold off on the plans for today until you feel better."

"No…" Sydney turned and patted her hand as it lay on his shoulder. "I haven't seen Sam since he got engaged to that Chinese girl — or even met her, for that matter. And Monday, Jarod and Parker go back into the Centre to work…"

"I have to agree with Deb," Kevin said, standing up to his mentor a little and not enjoying the fact that he felt it necessary. "You're not rested and not feeling like eating. Something's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong," Sydney insisted in a tone bordering on belligerence and then scowled back and forth between the two young adults. "And don't you dare call the day's plans off, either of you. Parker has been looking forward to today, and you both know it."

"Grandpa…"

"I'll be OK, ma petite," Sydney reassured her, taking her hand and pulling her closer so that he could give her a swift hug. "Give me a chance to get some coffee in me…"

"And to eat something," Kevin insisted firmly, "or I'm calling Jarod myself."

Sydney's tired chestnuts snapped up and found that Kevin's ice-blue eyes were worried and very determined. "You wouldn't."

Kevin's gaze didn't falter. "I would — in a drop-dead minute. Be reasonable," the young Pretender relented slightly and shook his head. "I'd get eaten out by Jarod, AND Miss Parker, AND Sam, if I let this slide, Sydney — and you know it. They're coming over today, and they're smart enough they'll see the state you're in. And you know that the moment they stopped chewing on me, they'd begin chewing on YOU as well. So I'm protecting both our butts here." He lifted his face. "After all, Jarod's back — and I've seen how sometimes he's the only one who can get you to do things you don't want to."

"Grandpa, you know you wouldn't be letting US get away with this, if we were in your shoes," Deb pressed urgently. "Don't fight us so when we're only trying to take as good care of you as you would of us."

Sydney could hear the caring in their voices, and it made it even harder. He didn't deserve this kind of consideration. "I'm not trying to fight you, Deb."

"Make him some of his toast," Kevin directed her and walked toward the coffee maker to pour the two of them some coffee. "Then, once you've eaten something," he said firmly, "I'll get you set up on the CPM machine and maybe you can doze until Jarod and the others get here." He took the measure of rebellion in the older man's eye. "Unless you DO want me calling Jarod…"

"Just one piece of toast, though, Deb," Sydney ordered reluctantly. "I'm really not all that hungry – I'm not lying."

"And you'll rest until our guests get here?" Kevin insisted.

"Yes," he conceded in defeat. "I don't want you calling Jarod on his first morning home and bothering him." He looked up and shook a finger in his protégé's face. "But don't be getting any ideas that you can boss me around like this very often."

"Only when you know very well I'm doing it for your own good – I understand the terms," Kevin nodded and smiled victoriously. "What time are the troops supposed to land?"

"I think Miss Parker was talking about just a little after lunch," Deb reminded him with a fond smile for his having worked her Grandpa so easily. "I'm going to need to do a little shopping this morning to get some supplies for supper tonight." She grinned a little more widely at him. "Wanna come along?"

Kevin gave a critical eye to his mentor and then up at Deb. "We'll see how well Sydney's doing when you're ready to leave – how's that? I could give you half of one of those pain pills," the young Pretender turned to his mentor and suggested hopefully. "That way, at least you'd get a chance to get some decent sleep before everybody got here."

"And have a helluva time waking up again, no doubt," Sydney shook his head. "I don't want to be comatose at a family gathering taking place in my own house, thank you…"

"We'll make sure there's plenty of coffee for you," Deb promised. "C'mon, Grandpa – you know you need the sleep."

"You two are pushing, you know…" Sydney glowered at them both again.

"All in a good cause," Kevin retorted. "But fair enough. I'll give you a third of a pill so that it won't be quite so hard for you to wake up again – IF you promise you'll genuinely try to sleep until lunchtime. No reading through archive documents, no watching TV…"

Sydney lifted his butter knife as Deb put the plate of toast in front of him and sighed. "A quarter of a pill, and I'll do what I can – beyond that, I can promise nothing."

Had he been in a better mood, the way the young people watched over him and kept the conversation light and devoid of stress would have been humorous. As it was, he found it hard to concentrate and follow the flow of the conversation and was more than ready when Kevin was finally finished with his breakfast to limp back into the den and get himself set up again with his 'damned gizmo.' He waited patiently until Kevin brought the glass of water and hastily trimmed down pill, swallowed the pill and then settled back into his pillow again – this time actually closing his eyes.

Kevin helped Deb clean up the breakfast dishes and then peeked in to check on Sydney, smiling to himself when he found he could hear soft snoring from the daybed. With that, he walked quietly into the foyer and then out into the front yard with Sydney's cell phone, which he'd snatched from its charging cord on the kitchen counter. Miss Parker's number was one of the first on the list, and he pressed the pre-programmed number.

"This is Parker."

"Hi, Miss Parker, this is Kevin. May I speak with Jarod, please?"

"Is everything OK over there?" Her voice sounded worried.

"He didn't sleep again, and really fought having any breakfast or lying back down to nap until lunch," Kevin reported somberly. "I thought I'd better give you folks a heads-up."

"Thanks," she said and then paused. "Here's Jarod."

"Kevin," Jarod's voice greeted him "What's up."

Kevin quickly filled him in on the morning's events, finishing with, "…and if he finds out I've called you after all…"

"I'll be sure not to mention that I've spoken to you," Jarod was quick to reassure him, "and I'm glad you called." He sighed. "I'll take him aside and see if I can't get him to open up a little about what is bugging him so badly today. Any ideas?"

"Not a clue," Kevin replied, shaking his head. "The only thing he said was to admit that he hadn't slept particularly well."

"Did anything pop up with the archives yesterday before we got there?"

"No," Kevin said a little less surely. "Although we did discuss a Mr./Dr. Raines, whose name is on quite a healthy share of the documents we've been reading lately."

"Did it seem to upset him?"

"Not really," Kevin answered honestly. "I don't think that whatever it was that kept him awake last night had anything to do with anything he read."

"Well, we'll just see what happens when we get there this afternoon," Jarod announced. "Keep an eye on him, though. Make sure he actually sleeps."

"He was snoring when I snagged his cell phone to call you just now," Kevin told him guiltily.

"Make sure he stays that way," Jarod advised. "See you in a few."

"Yeah," Kevin nodded. "See you."

"Grandpa would chew you out if he knew you'd called Jarod anyway," Deb told him from the front doorway.

"He's not going to know," Kevin told her firmly, then walked up to her and gave her a big hug. "You won't tell him, and I won't either."

"What did he say?"

"He said he'd take him aside and see if he could find out some of what's eating at him." Kevin encircled Deb's waist. "And that I should keep an eye on him. I think that means that I'd probably best stick close to the house rather than go shopping with you."

"I was looking forward to having you come with me," Deb moped for a bit, and then leaned into him. "I'll be glad after I've seen the doctor tomorrow. I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," he kissed her forehead and held her close.

"It IS Sunday, you know," Becca Ashland told the FBI agents coolly as she let them into her home and led them to her parlor. "Couldn't this have waited?"

"No, ma'am," Assistant Director Berghoff shook his head. "Since, if we're lucky, a goodly portion of our investigation will conclude tomorrow, we thought that if we clued you in on what we are hoping to accomplish, you could tell us if we have enough to go to the Justice Department for arrest warrants – or if there was enough here for you to seek a Senate Ethics Hearing on these guys."

"What's going on tomorrow?" Ashland gestured for the men to take a seat.

"Senator Canfield is going to be wearing a wire so that we can listen in on his discussion with his 'friends'," Gillespie smirked triumphantly. "Seems that Canfield has grown a conscience and wants out."

Ashland gaped. "Is this true?" she asked the senior agent.

Berghoff nodded. "He got in contact with us, and he agreed to wear the wire. With any luck, we'll not only have them for all the things that they've done so far, but we can nail them for conspiracy to commit libel now."

"Why?" She looked back and forth. "What are they planning now?"

"They're going to try to make such a scandal out of old news about the Centre that it will make any investigation of THEIR activities into small potatoes," Gillespie again answered instead of his boss. "Canfield told us that this is their way of getting payback for the Centre stopping their cooperation with the kind of projects they've been funding."

"I've read some of the files," Ashland told her guests in a tight voice. "I have to admit that there must have been something incredibly wrong ethically with any organization that would have taken on those projects in the first place."

"That may well be," Berghoff agreed, "but the fact is that the present Chairman was just as uneasy about those projects as any of us might be. It was SHE who summarily put a halt to them and shipped everything back to the Pentagon – and it was their reaction to that decision that started this whole big process in the first place. To try to paint her with the sins of those who agreed to take on the projects while they were in charge there…"

"Point made," Ashland nodded finally. "So they're going to try to paint her with the sins of her predecessors, eh?"

"Canfield made a passing comment that she has some explaining to do — and I'd imagine that anybody who'd been with the Centre for as long as she had probably WOULD," Gillespie replied. "But it's all nothing but a smoke screen designed to let any scandal from their actions as Senators stay out of the public eye, and probably the eye of their constituents."

"That borders on libel."

"Or extortion — IF they push at the Centre to resume it's participation in the projects as the price for putting out the scandal fires," Berghoff added. "Frankly, considering the previous actions this crew has taken, I wouldn't put THAT past them either."

"That will make them guilty of criminal law — which will definitely made for an Ethics Hearing," Ashland assured them. "The question is, will you have enough evidence with what you hope to get on Monday to actually have them arrested?"

"We hopefully will have them on tape committing conspiracy to commit libel and/or extortion at the very least. If we do…"

"Then I'd suggest you call Justice as soon as you know – especially if you get the evidence you're hoping for. Keep me informed," Ashland told them. "Incidentally, I'll need a copy of the arrest warrants to put things in motion with the Ethics Committee."

"We'll get them to you the moment WE have them," Gillespie promised.

"Make this work," she warned Berghoff sternly. "No screw ups."

"We will," he swore, "we will."

Mei Chiang watched Sam wrap the loaves of French bread that he'd been puttering over in aluminum foil. "Are you sure that's all we have to bring?" she worried at him.

"Trust me, Mei, between Miss Parker and Deb and Sydney, there will be plenty of food," Sam grinned at her, and then reached out an arm and pulled her close. "Don't tell me you're nervous…"

"To spend the afternoon and evening at my employer's home? Of course not," she lied obviously and glibly, all too aware of the butterflies in her stomach that had been present ever since Miss Parker had extended the invitation Friday afternoon.

"We'll be at Sydney's, not Miss Parker's — and she's not so much your employer today," Sam told her softly and felt her arms slip around his waist. "Today, she's family as well as employer."

"That will be hard to remember," she commented softly.

"It takes a while," he agreed, remembering how very reluctantly he'd allowed himself to be integrated into that after-hours familial relationship and how fragile he'd believed that relationship to be until very recently, "but you'll get the hang of it eventually."

"Who all will be coming, then?"

He shook his head. "I'd be willing to bet that she's invited Tyler — she's taken a real shine to him. And I think I heard her mention that Sydney say that he wanted Crystal there too."

"I wonder if Tyler will bring Xing-Li?" Mei mused.

"That WOULD make for a full house," Sam shook his head at the thought. "Let's see, Jarod and Missy's family makes four, Sydney five, Deb and Kevin seven, you and me nine, Crystal ten, Tyler eleven, Xing-Li… I wonder just how big Sydney's dining table does get!"

"Are you sure this Sydney is up to entertaining?" she worried further. "Didn't he just get out of the hospital after being beat up or something?"

"Miss Parker thought that having family around him today with a welcome-home meal for Jarod and his little girl would do him good. That's right," he grinned down at her, "you haven't met Sydney or Deb or Kevin or Jarod or Davy yet — they're family too."

"This is a very strange family," Mei shook her head. "So few of you are actually related…"

"It's a very extended family," Sam admitted, "and we're family because we want to be as much as anything else."

"I don't think they were expecting us over there BEFORE lunch, Jarod," Miss Parker shook her head as she watched Davy patiently teaching Ginger to use a baseball mitt to catch a softball in the backyard. She turned to face Jarod and his mother, both of whom were still seated at the breakfast counter.

"Probably not," Jarod agreed as he handed her his coffee mug to rinse, "but I want a chance to talk to him BEFORE the whole mob descends. He's going to have a full house today, and convincing him to make time in his day to talk to me is going to be something that will need privacy."

"Is he that difficult to approach?" Margaret asked, looking back and forth between the two of them. "He seemed a rather amenable and easy-going person to me…"

Miss Parker took a long sip of her coffee. "Maggie, Sydney is a very complicated person. On the surface, he's as you say — easy-going, friendly — but a more intensely private man I've never met in my life. I've known him my whole life and still feel that there's a great deal about him that I don't know yet, especially about his past, his childhood — he knows my past like the back of his hand, I know his only in very vague sketchbook form. He rarely talks about Michelle or Nicholas, his son — but I know that there are some deep emotions involved there. I keep hoping that someday he'll let me into his life to the extent that I let him into mine."

"He never has shown his emotions very often," Jarod added quietly, "and when he finally does, they're that much more intense for being repressed. I'm sure it's the result of what happened in the war, that it became a survival tool that he couldn't put down once his need for it ended. I can't imagine — or rather, I should say I don't want to imagine — what having to deal with emotions locked away from the days of the Holocaust are doing to him. I was there the first time that he had to face the memory of what Krieg did to him. I think that was the beginning of his realization that he'd been both a victim and a keeper. It's very likely that the paradox of knowing both sides of such circumstances is tearing him to pieces emotionally. I'm probably the only one in any position to help him find his way out of it intact."

"You see, you don't have to do anything to make him feel guilty about what he did to Jarod," Miss Parker told Margaret softly. "He's doing an excellent job of holding himself responsible all on his own."

Margaret stared at her son. "Did you know this was going to happen?" she asked in surprise.

"I had an idea that it might get to this point," he told her with a shrug, "especially after he found those papers from Germany that essentially called his entire past after the war into question."

"Is there anything that I can do?" Margaret looked back and forth between the two.

Jarod looked at Miss Parker, and she looked back — and she then looked at the older woman. "If you could just be supportive right now — I have a feeling that he'll answer all your questions by himself eventually without being asked. But he needs a little security and sense of control of his fate," she replied somberly.

"And if we're going to go, we need to get moving," Jarod stated, rising. He went over to the back door and called through the screen, "Davy! Ginger! We're just about ready to head to Grandpa's — if you need to get anything to take with you…"

Ginger tossed the ball at Davy and immediately scampered for the house. "Me want take Bear!" she said to herself as she pushed past her father and ran for the stairs.

"Grab your coloring books too," Davy called after her. "We can play in the tree house." He trotted after his little sister.

Margaret handed Miss Parker her coffee mug and rose to follow the children to the stairs. "I'm going to at least bring a sweater with me today. I thought it would be warm this time of year."

"It gets cool in the evenings now," Jarod nodded, reaching for his own leather jacket. "C'mon, kids, let's get a move on."

"Betcha I can beat you to the car," Davy challenged his little sister after they both had made it back downstairs again. He threw open the front door.

"Not fair!" Ginger called out. "Oo bigger than me!"

"You, Sprite, not 'oo.' Say it right and I'll let you win," Davy pushed through the front screen and started down the steps at a healthy trot.

"Ee-oo," the little girl tried. "Y..y..ou."

Davy stopped and waited for her. "Now say it again. 'You're bigger than me.'"

"Ee-oor bigger than me." Ginger actually stopped moving so she could concentrate on her enunciation.

The boy grinned. "THAT'S better. C'mon. You can win this time."

Jarod stared out the door and then turned to smile at Miss Parker as she came from the kitchen with two full sacks of groceries. "Maybe we won't need to find a speech therapist after all," he chuckled as he took one of the sacks from her. "Let's see what Davy gets her to do first. Right now, I think she'd do just about anything he asked of her."

"They are cute together, aren't they?" Margaret smiled from the top of the stairs, her light sweater tossed casually over one arm. "She walked around the house like a lost puppy for a few days after Davy left — I think it even made her appreciate Sammy a bit more, although I don't think she ever really forgave him for hurting Bear."

"Davy's been living for the day his father and sister came home," Miss Parker followed the other adults out the door and pulled the front door closed behind her.

The drive to Sydney's was a thankfully short one, for Davy and Ginger were tossing their softball back and forth in the back seat over their grandmother's lap and giggling contagiously. Kevin answered the knock at the front door with a startled expression on his face. "I thought…"

"I figured I'd want to talk to him before everybody started to arrive," Jarod explained quickly. "How's he doing?"

"He's still asleep," Kevin stated with a glance at the two giggling kids.

"Why don't you two take your ball across the street to the park until it's time for lunch," Miss Parker directed them with a carefully extended forefinger that didn't endanger the grocery sack she was holding.

"Watch for traffic," Margaret called as the two joined hands and headed for the curb.

"I brought lunch fixings for us," Miss Parker told Kevin as the adults moved into the house and closed the front door. "Kevin, why don't you get out those documents that set Sydney off the first time? Jarod could probably read them and understand them."

"You took them…"

"No," she shook her head. "Remember, I put them in the bookcase, where they wouldn't get lost."

Kevin followed her finger and found the aging set of folders neatly inserted amongst the books on psychology and philosophy. Jarod followed him into the living room and sat down at an easy chair with light streaming in through the picture window. He opened the folder and began to read.

"Is Deb in the kitchen?" Miss Parker asked before moving deeper into the house.

Kevin shook his head. "She's shopping for dinner — she should be back soon."

"I bet we can have lunch made by the time she gets back," Margaret picked up the grocery sack that Jarod had deposited on the couch and followed the tall brunette.

Jarod read through the folder quickly, pausing only when he found the notes in English from Dr. Krieg to a Mr. Parker. Kevin had seated himself on the couch not far away and watched as Sydney's original protégé digested the information at an amazing rate. Finally, however, the chocolate eyes raised to look into his. "Do you know what all this means?"

"Miss Parker explained some of it to me," Kevin began lamely.

"Essentially, this means that the Centre stepped into Sydney's life very early on in the guise of the Nazis — first killing all of his family except his twin brother and then running horrible, obscene medical and psychological experiments on the two boys. Then, after the war, the man who took care of the twins was a Centre plant — someone under direct orders from Mr. Parker to mold and influence both Green brothers into studying psychology and then, latter, finding a job at the Centre themselves." Jarod closed the folder and put it on the table next to him. "I'd imagine that the plant that took care of the boys after the war portrayed himself as a long-lost family member — and the worst of it could be that he or she WAS related to them." He closed his eyes as the way his mentor would have reacted to this news processed. "He was stolen as a boy, just as I was and just as you were."

"But I don't remember being stolen," Kevin complained softly.

"Centre brainwashing techniques have gotten better over the years," Jarod speculated. "Even I know that Raines and his goons managed to erase certain memories from me when I was older — if they got to you as a very young boy…"

"But I still don't understand — why would knowing that he was stolen make him so…"

"Crazy?" Jarod supplied the word Kevin really didn't want to say. "Because he was led to believe that he made so many of those decisions himself — because finding out that he'd been lied to and manipulated even in his youth has made his actions as a man that much more repulsive to him now. And, most likely, because he'd managed to suppress most of the memories of Dachau in order to retain his sanity — and these pictures and notes have ripped all the barriers away." Jarod could see that Kevin didn't fully understand the implications yet. "It's like Deb's nightmares, only worse because he'd deliberately pushed everything so far back in his mind that he'd actually forgotten much of it."

"Did you know that Syd had a sister?" Miss Parker asked as she brought both men a tall glass of iced tea.

Jarod glanced up at her, startled. "A sister?"

"I know you said that what he told me was in confidence," she said, sitting down on the arm of Jarod's chair, "but maybe this has a bearing on what's happening with him now — as a matter of fact, I'm fairly sure of it."

"Why?" Kevin wasn't following her reasoning.

"Because he described her to me," she answered, "and from the description, she sounded like she looked very much like our Sprite."

"Ah!" Jarod steepled his fingers in front of his nose in a gesture so very much like that of his mentor. "That explains part of it then." He looked into one confused face and another that was nodding agreement. "Don't you remember," he asked Miss Parker, "how stunned he was at the airstrip?"

"I saw it," she told Kevin. "But I'd been almost expecting it since he talked to me about his sister — I was hoping that having Ginger around would help a bit…"

"It will — eventually," Jarod told her, "especially after she starts to warm up to him. But that will have to happen at its own pace — we can't push Ginger either."

"Kevin," a sleepy and accented voice drifted from the back of the house, "do you still have any coffee left?"

Miss Parker looked at Jarod and patted his arm. "I think that's your cue, Wonder-boy," she told him softly.

He rose and went into the kitchen to find where a mug of coffee had been left near the microwave. He heated the leftover coffee quickly and carried it into the den. "Hello, Sydney," he said, moving around the end of the couch and handing his former mentor the coffee.

"Jarod! I didn't think…" Sydney started, then folded his brows. "Did Kevin call you?"

"Why would Kevin have called me?" Jarod carefully answered the question with a question so that he wouldn't have to either lie or break his word to the young Pretender.

Sydney gazed into his former protégé's eyes and tried to discern subterfuge, but couldn't. "No reason," he finally conceded and sipped at the hot coffee. "I guess I was just startled to see you here before lunch."

"I wanted a chance to talk to you before everybody else got here and this place became a zoo," Jarod smiled at him and sat down on the coffee table. "Missy told me you've been having some difficulties…"

"Yes, well…" The older man found something interesting to watch on the surface of his coffee, "you don't need to…"

"Sydney," Jarod said softly, "I think it's time we had some serious discussions, don't you?" He gazed evenly as his mentor's chestnut eyes flicked up to his briefly. "We have a number of things we need to settle between us that we didn't get a chance to get to before all Hell broke looks around here. And considering what set you off not too long ago…"

Sydney found himself at war with the part of his mind that wanted to run away from all of this — that knew that what Jarod was asking was to deliberately walk INTO the pain of his immense guilt with the expectation that he would eventually walk out of it again. This time, he knew, Jarod would be wanting to pull information from him about THAT time — the time of horror and agony in Dachau — to make the connections that he himself was obviously already making in his own mind. And yet, he knew that he needed to do this — for Deb, for Melissa, and for Kevin, if not for himself.

"You're right," he surprised himself and Jarod by agreeing. "We touched on a few of the bigger, more egregious things while we were doing research to bring the Triumvirate to bear on Raines, but…"

"…But we didn't finish the job," Jarod finished for him. "We need to put it ALL to bed, Sydney, once and for all. You need closure, and so do I."

"I don't think there will be anything we can do, Jarod," Sydney sighed. "Some of the reading I've been doing for Missy has brought back… things…" He swallowed hard. "I find I have no excuse for the things that I did for the better part of my life. I knew what it meant to have such things done to me, because I had been where you were — and I did them anyway…"

Jarod shook his head. "You know things aren't that simple, Sydney. What you went through in Dachau was monstrous…"

"What I did… what I allowed… to happen to you was monstrous, Jarod," Sydney insisted bitterly.

"Some of it was," Jarod agreed in a very non-accusative tone. "But the question I want you to answer today is just how much of what happened to you in the camp did you remember and have in the back of your mind while you were working with me?"

Sydney closed his eyes. "Very little if anything at all. I forgot as much of it as I could as fast as I could. Uncle Fritz…" Just pronouncing the name was to invite bile into the back of his mouth. "Uncle Fritz helped both Jacob and me put much of that behind us…"

"You mean he brainwashed you," Jarod pronounced somberly. "I saw the notes, Sydney — the reassurance that the man who would take charge of you and Jacob at war's end would be a Parker loyalist like Krieg."

"It doesn't matter — it doesn't change the fact that…" Sydney accused himself again.

"It DOES matter, Sydney, and you know it!" Jarod exclaimed. "How can you be held accountable when you were brainwashed into not remembering — not understanding?"

"I still should have known the difference between right and wrong — and seen that what I was letting happen to you here was… beyond justification."

Jarod sat back a bit. "Just what is it that you did that you feel was so monstrous, Sydney?"

Sydney opened his eyes again and stared at his former protégé in shock. "Good God, Jarod, was there anything that I did that WASN'T monstrous?"

"You taught me right from wrong, how to tie a tie…" Jarod began listing.

"You know what I mean," Sydney growled at him.

"All right then, let's get down to it. How many of the SIMs we ran were your idea?" Jarod asked suddenly.

"None of them were — you know that," Sydney responded, stung.

"How many of the experiments you put me through were of your design?"

"They were ALL of my design," he protested, then backed down slightly, "although the orders to find a way to measure certain areas of your intellect came from the Tower."

"Did you ever protest, or try to refuse to do something?"

Sydney looked down. "Yes, and all it took was to be reminded of how important my work with you was to the Centre to get me to back down and go right back to work. I was a coward…"

"You are familiar with the Milgram Experiment, aren't you?"

Sydney's eyes opened wide. "Yes, I read Obedience to Authority when it initially came out. It was very disturbing reading."

"I'd imagine," Jarod nodded. "The idea that perfectly sane, rational and ethical people could be convinced to administer potentially dangerous electrical shocks to strangers while under the blanket of a perceived authority, even when it would otherwise conflict with their conscience must have been frightening to you. Especially as some of the parallels drawn in the book were to the actions of Nazi officers during the war — the trial of Eichmann for example…"

"What are you saying?" Sydney gaped.

"That you were in a similar situation, Sydney – that for a time, you were willing to submit to the authority of the Tower when it came to my training and use in running SIMs. When you finally began to question, you not only suffered devastating personal loss as a result but also were put under increasing pressure by the Tower to continue. You've read the study data, Sydney — what was the percentage of people capable of deliberately flying in the face of authority on the basis of principles and ethics?"

"I don't remember." Sydney was pale and shaken.

"Thirty percent on an average, Sydney," Jarod said kindly. "You also followed the norm in that when I escaped — the moment I rebelled — you began your own more subtle rebellion too. You began to help me, feed me clues about what the Centre was up to — you even made it possible for me to rescue my brother Jay." He looked at his mentor understandingly. "And now that you're removed from all of it, now that all the manufactured barriers to understanding and memory have been wiped away, you're mistaking a natural tendency to submit to a perceived form of authority to do another person — me — harm as a tendency having arisen from within yourself. You see it as a lack of strength or principles that makes you fully responsible for what you did." He put a gentle hand on Sydney's arm. "You don't need to do that, and you aren't being fair to yourself. Put the responsibility where it belongs — with Mr. Parker, Raines, the Triumvirate."

A solitary tear rolled down Sydney's ashen face as he struggled to understand what Jarod was telling him. "I could have done more, though," he complained stubbornly. "I should have…"

"There are some things you could have done — maybe," Jarod agree. "You could have let me know that you cared a helluva lot sooner than you did…" He stopped that line of thinking when another tear dropped to the pale cheek "But the important thing is that the bulk of what you're tearing yourself apart about right now IS NOT YOUR FAULT for the most part — not in the way you'd like to convince yourself, anyway."

Sydney put his face in his hands. "God," he choked back a sob.

Jarod shifted closer and caught one of those hands in his and held on tightly. "Listen to me. Yes, we have some small issues that need addressing — maybe a few things we need to discuss, forgive each other for and then put behind us. But you are not a monster, Sydney — you are not another Krieg and never were. Do you hear me?"

"I am so sorry, Jarod," the old man cried softly.

Jarod sighed and shifted from coffee table to the edge of the daybed and pulled the man who, despite everything, had raised him — and raised him well — into his arms. "I know you are, Sydney," Jarod said quietly. "You don't need to apologize to me anymore — I forgave you a long time ago, although I wasn't in a position to tell you until now. Let it go." The old man shook. "Let it go, Sydney. It's long past time."

Xing-Li hurried to her door at the sound of the knock. "You're early," she chided Tyler as she let him in. "I have a few things to do yet."

"You look fine," he reassured her as he followed her into her apartment and halted by the short couch while she continued on toward the back. "Better than I do, in fact." It was the first time he'd seen her in anything but a silk brocade cheongsam, and she did look fine in her more casual Western attire.

"I borrowed these from Crystal," she replied self-consciously, brushing her hands down the tee shirt and shorts that looked almost big on her but fit well enough that they merely highlighted her diminutive size.

"Speaking of whom," Tyler looked over his shoulder toward the door, "is she almost ready to go too?"

"You might want to go knock on her door," Xing-Li told him with a gesture toward the door. "I'll be ready in just a moment."

Tyler shook his head. "I'll collect you ladies one at a time, I think," he remarked with a grin. "Miss Parker gave us an approximate timeframe to work with, not a definite 'be here by' time."

"Are you sure that it will be OK with her that I come with you?" she asked him in a slightly worried tone. "I mean, maybe she's not expecting me…"

"Don't worry about it," he told her reassuringly. "I think she was expecting me to ask you to come along when she asked me to pick up Crystal at the same time, don't you?"

"What's the occasion?"

"Her fiancé's home with his little girl – this is a welcome-home event."

Xing-Li stuck her head out the bathroom door. "I didn't know she was getting married."

"Yeah," Tyler told her, "to her childhood sweetheart, I gather."

"There," she announced after pulling her head back into the bathroom and finishing her grooming. She stepped out and stood expectantly in front of him. "Am I presentable?"

"Absolutely," he replied, smiling back at her. He held out his arm to her. "Ready?"

She smiled shyly as she let him commandeer her hand and tuck it into his elbow securely. This would be the second time that her handsome American boss had asked her to accompany him somewhere – and she had yet to get used to him claiming possession of her hand in quite that fashion. She let him lead the way from the apartment so that she could lock up, and then followed him down the stairs to knock on Crystal's door.

The young girl answered, a look of hesitancy and uncertainty on her face. "Yes?"

"Are you ready to go?" Tyler asked kindly.

"I guess," she replied, slipping her apartment key into her jeans pocket, "although I'm still not sure why I'm going."

"From what I understand, Sydney wants you there," he pointed the way to his little sports car, "and that's enough for Miss Parker." He opened the door. "I'm thinking that you could get in the back, and let Xing-Li have the front."

"That's cool," Crystal said and folded herself so she could slip into the narrow back seat. "Thanks for the ride, Mr. Tyler."

"Not a problem, kid," Tyler said, scooting around the back of the car to the driver's seat. "Buckle up, you two…"

Ginger looked up from her coloring book and listened to the noises around her. Grandma, Deb and She were in the kitchen, starting to put things together for a big dinner that night. Daddy, Kevin and Davy had adjourned to the back yard to play a game of Frisbee, complete with laughter and shouting. Sometime that afternoon, Daddy had told her that there would be more new people coming over – and that fact had given her reason to cuddle up with Bear and her coloring books.

But now she was thirsty. She retrieved Bear from his chair next to her, rose and headed toward the kitchen – only to turn around when the front doorbell rang. Being the closest, she went to the door and opened it, and then squeaked in alarm. It was the Big Man – the one that had so frightened her at Daddy's house.

"Hi there, Princess," Sam was surprised to see Jarod's little girl so soon and immediately toned his voice down so as not to alarm the little girl anymore than she already was. It was obvious that she was no less frightened of him now than she had been in California. "Are your mom and dad here?"

Ginger nodded and skittered away from the door – leaving it open for Sam to come in – and headed back toward the kitchen and safety. When she got there, she discovered that Grandma had stepped outside to talk to Daddy, so she tugged on Her arm to get Her attention. "Man here," she said in a tiny voice and pointed.

Miss Parker looked up to see a chagrined Sam leading a confused Mei-Chiang into the room while Ginger caught her breath again and retreated to the very deepest room of the house, clutching Bear to her desperately. It took her a moment to realize that in running away from one stranger, she'd run straight into the lair of another – for Grandpa was stretched out on the couch with one leg resting on a machine that slowly bent it and straightened it. She'd never seen such a thing, not even on television.

Sydney's eyes opened at the sound of panting from a small chest, and he to see Ginger backed against a wall, staring at him with huge and frightened eyes. In the background, he could make out the sounds of Sam's voice – a sound that made Ginger's eyes flick toward the kitchen door in real fear before returning to study him and his ever-moving leg with trepidation.

"Are you frightened, ma petite?" he asked very softly so as not to spook the child. She slowly nodded. "Looking for a place to hide – to feel safe?" Again she nodded. "If you curl up in that chair over there," he pointed, "you can be safe here with me until your Daddy or Kevin comes back in."

Not letting her eyes leave him, Ginger slipped into the chair he'd indicated and folded herself into a small knot with Bear held tightly to her chest like a shield. "What dat thing doing?" she asked in a very small voice.

"The doctor told me that it would help make my knee better faster," Sydney answered honestly. "Tell me, what frightened you so?"

Ginger glanced at the kitchen door again. "Man comed – Big Man…"

"And big men scare you?"

She nodded somberly. "Big Man hurt me," she explained vaguely.

Sydney's brows rose on his forehead. "THIS Big Man has hurt you?" Sam would harm a small child? He didn't think so…

Ginger shook her head. "'Nuther Big Man, long time ago."

"Parker," he called out over the back of the couch toward the kitchen.

Miss Parker appeared in the kitchen doorway in very short order. "Hey, Syd, guess who's…"

Sydney held up a hand to interrupt her. "There's a very frightened little girl in here who could use her daddy right now."

Miss Parker looked in the direction that Sydney was pointing, and the vision of Ginger huddled in the big, leather easy chair with huge and darting eyes that touched her face with recognition and yet found no relief would remain with her for a long time. "I'll get him," she promised her new daughter gently and then vanished.

"Your daddy will be here soon, ma petite," Sydney soothed at the little girl as best he could. "You'll be safe now."

Ginger felt herself relax even as she heard her father's voice in the distance, greeting the Big Man and somebody else and then coming closer.

"Sprite?" Jarod finally called from the doorway.

"Daddy!" she whimpered and scampered down from the chair and over to where her father could swing her up into his arms and hold her tightly.

"What's the matter, fairy child?" the Pretender asked gently as his hands soothed down her back in calming strokes.

"Big Man comed," she explained again and buried her face in his neck.

"She's afraid of large men – she says that one hurt her a long time ago," Sydney filled in the gap as best he could for her.

Jarod sighed. "Do you remember the day that you met Uncle Jay and Uncle Nathan – how scared you were of them at first?" he asked his little girl. She nodded against his neck. "And do you remember how nice they were once you finally got to know them a little bit?" The nod that came that time was a little more hesitant. "Well, Sam is going to be the same way. He's Daddy's friend and a good friend of Mommy's and Grandpa's – and I know for a fact that he'd NEVER hurt you."

Ginger just whimpered and snuggled down tighter against her father. Jarod glanced at Parker and at Sydney in defeat. "What are we going to do?" he asked in frustration. "I don't want her terrified…"

"What's wrong?" Margaret had followed Jarod and Miss Parker into the den and caught sight of her granddaughter huddled in Jarod's arms. "Sprite?"

"It seems that Sam terrifies Ginger," Sydney explained again from the couch. "She told me that a big man like him hurt her a long time ago."

Margaret nodded. "She talked about that with me once in California, about how a big man kept touching her in the night and hurting her. I assumed at the time she was talking about the foster parent that molested her…"

Parker and Sydney both spouted in disgust and sympathy. "We need to give her a safe place to run to when she gets overwhelmed," Jarod said firmly.

"This house is going to be literally crawling with strangers when Tyler gets here with Crystal and Xing-Li," Parker told him, feeling the pressure of her little girl's fears but unable to relieve it.

"What about if we make the den off limits to anyone but immediate family?" Sydney suggested suddenly. He looked at the little girl who still didn't trust him. "I'll have Kevin take me off this gizmo for the rest of the day, Mrs. Russell can bring her coloring books and toys in here, and she can be back here safe when she's not with you, Jarod."

"No, Sydney. You need to be on the machine today," Miss Parker complained. "One day's vacation yesterday is one thing — two days in a row, your therapist will have a cow…"

"Sprite," Jarod tapped her on the shoulder and called her name several times until she finally lifted her head to look at him. "What if we bring your stuff in here — do you think you can stay back here with Grandpa Sydney if we ask Sam and all the others you don't know to stay out?"

"Big Man no come back here?" the little girl asked in a voice shaking with fear.

"No. And Grandpa will be on his machine, making sure that you stay safe. He can call me if there's a problem, just like last time. What do you think — would that be OK?"

Ginger tipped her head and looked down at her new grandfather. He'd made her safe and then called Daddy to help — maybe he wouldn't be so bad to stay with after all. He had kind eyes — a little like Daddy's. "Me 'tay Gampa, OK." She looked at her father. "Me 'tay tree house too, if Davy comed…"

"I'll talk to Davy," Margaret said, "although I think he was talking about going to the park to see if there was a softball game to be had this afternoon."

"I don't want you climbing into the tree house if Davy isn't with you," Jarod told her. "I don't want you to fall."

"OK," Ginger answered, disappointed. The tree house would have been ideal — it was far away from any of the scary new adults.

"Here, then, I'll give you to Grandpa…" Jarod started to lean over.

"She's still a little nervous around me, Jarod," Sydney stopped him with a word. "She doesn't have to…"

But it was too late. Ginger leaned out and put out her arms to go to the older man on the couch whose job it would be to keep her safe. Sydney found himself putting up his arms and gathering the little girl to him, feeling her settling into his side with her arms around his neck — almost hitting him in the face with her Bear. He shifted slightly on the couch so that she'd have more room, surprised that she wasn't struggling to get free from the embrace that he deliberately made loose and non-confining. "Are you going to be OK there, ma petite?" he asked softly.

"Me OK," she replied softly and put her head on his shoulder, still watching her father for reassurance and support.

"I'll go get her backpack and other supplies," Margaret said, making tracks for the dining room. Parker began moving file folders from the coffee table to a spot on top of a bookcase.

The doorbell rang again, and Jarod looked up. "I'll bet that's Tyler and the others. I get it." He shot his daughter a final look. "You gonna be OK now?"

Ginger nodded against her grandfather's shoulder and felt his gentle hand smooth down her back. "I'll call out again if there are any more problems," Sydney promised him.

Parker returned to the side of the couch and straightened her new daughter's braids and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. "I'll be just in the kitchen, Sprite," she told her, "in case you need me."

"'Kay."

Sydney could see the disappointment in his foster-daughter's eyes that the little girl still hadn't accepted her entirely, and knew that he was no more accepted yet than she was despite the fact that the girl was nestling against him. Once they were along again, he loosened his hold even more so that as Margaret came through the doorway with the pink backpack, Ginger would be free to claim it. "Go on, cheri," he urged the child kindly, feeling the tension in her body as her backpack came into view. "Get your things. You can color here at the coffee table next to me and still be safe."

Ginger shot him a look of pure gratitude and carefully scrambled over him so she could get the backpack from her grandmother.

"Is there anything I can get for you, Sydney," Margaret asked, feeling some sympathy for the man trapped on the couch by the need for the therapy machine on his leg.

"No, thank you, Mrs. Russell. I think I'll be fine."

"Call me Maggie," Margaret responded. "We're going to be family — there's no need for all this formality."

Despite himself, Sydney found himself smiling up at her. "Thanks, Maggie," he tried out the name carefully, "but I'll be just fine."

Margaret hesitated, not knowing how to tell the man on the couch that she'd heard some of the discussion between him and her son and now wished she could help relieve him of some of the crippling guilt she now knew he carried inside him. She had come to Delaware to see him squirm in guilt, despite what she'd told the others — only she'd thought that she'd have to help instill it herself. That was no longer the case, for the guilt he already carried was far greater and far more corrosive than anything she could have wished for him. And she had seen enough to know that ultimately he was a decent and loving man — one who had been pushed far past anything a decent man should have been.

"What?" Sydney asked as he noticed her hesitation. Jarod's mother had an odd expression on her face. "Is something wrong?"

"I think I owe you an apology," she said lamely, studying her hands.

He cast a quick look at Ginger and found her absorbed in her coloring again, apparently at ease with her beloved grandmother still in the room with her. Assured that she was busy, he looked up again. "Whatever for?"

"You know why I'm here?"

He nodded slowly. "I have a good idea. I can't say that I blame you — if I were in your position…"

"From what Jarod says, you already have been… In my position, that is," she added as his brows folded in slight confusion.

"Ah!" His face cleared as understanding dawned, then folded in confusion again. "That still doesn't explain what it is that you feel the need to apologize for."

"You have to understand, I've hated you for so long…"

"That's the one thing I do understand, Maggie," Sydney replied quickly. "You don't have to explain that part of it."

"But I hated someone that doesn't exist," she continued. "I thought you were a cold and calculating person who used and abused my son without a qualm or twinge of conscience. I…" She blushed slightly. "I know it is neither polite nor wise, but I found myself listening to some of your talk with Jarod a while ago…" She watched Sydney's face fall and his gaze shift away from hers. "I think I have all the answers I wanted now, and I owe you an apology for thinking so badly of you."

"How can you do that?" Sydney asked her as he shook his head disbelievingly.

"Do what?"

"Forgive so easily? I never have gotten over the jealousy I feel when I think of another man raising my son in my place — how do you…"

Margaret shook her head. "I didn't say that I'm not still jealous of the time you spent with him. I don't think I'll ever be able to put that entirely behind me. You shared my son's childhood — that's something I'll never be able to have back."

Sydney nodded. "We're not so different in that, then."

"Did you ever get a chance to talk to this man who raised your son?"

He nodded again. "Briefly, just before he died."

"Then I'm luckier than you," she told him kindly, "because forgiveness comes easier when you know who you're dealing with." Her brilliant blue eyes looked down into his chestnut. "I will never stop being jealous of you, Sydney, but I can't hate you anymore. You did a good job raising my son, despite everything — you helped him become a man I could be proud of. I'm glad that if…" Her voice caught. "…If Jarod was going to be raised by someone at the Centre, that someone turned out to be you."

"I am sorry that I didn't do more for him," Sydney confessed to her softly.

"You did what you could under the circumstances," she soothed. "Don't blame yourself for things you couldn't change."

"You sound just like Jarod," Sydney stated sadly.

"I'm his mother — DUH, as the kids say," she smiled back. "But he's right, you know. If he can forgive you, then the time has come to forgive yourself too."

"Thank you, Maggie," he said softly, lifting a hand to take hers gently. "I was wrong — there WAS something you could do for me, and you just did it."

She squeezed his hand briefly and then let go so that she could join the others. Ginger looked up as her grandmother left and then looked over at her grandfather. "Gampa OK? Not sad now?"

"I'm fine, ma petite." Sydney cast a long look after where Jarod's mother had vanished. A lot had gone unsaid during that short and deep conversation that he'd have to think about for a very long time. Then returned his attention to the little girl at the coffee table, realizing that now would not be the time for that. "Now," he said, rolling toward her as much as the therapy machine would allow, "why don't you show me what you're coloring? You've been working so hard…"

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