DISCLAIMER: There are writers among us, fools without the ability to make up their own characters or worlds for stories. In 2003, a network known as TNT was the victim of one of these writers who liked their show. Then one day, the writer wrote a fan fiction. Don't sue me, I don't own anything.

The watcher sat in his car, harnessing his anger. He was very good at frightening people, but it would always be a task to frighten her. She was, perhaps, the only person in the world he didn't want to fear him. She was also the person it was most important that he intimidate completely. So he sat in his car, forcing himself to become an inferno of rage.

The watcher's meditations were interrupted by the appearance of a person he'd hoped never to see in this little town. He drew his gun and prayed he wasn't too late.

"Freeze Jarod," he said, stopping the man just before he entered the diner. To Lyle's great surprise, the pretender actually put his hands up and turned to face his assailant.

"Lyle," he stated evenly. "Where are the sweepers?"

"Around," Lyle answered tersely. "Have you seen her?"

"Yes," Jarod responded simply, causing Lyle to swear vehemently under his breath.

"Then there are no sweepers and we need to talk."

Jarod was intrigued. "Okay. Let's take a walk."

Lyle put away his gun and the two walked next to each other, both men had all of their muscles tensed for a fight. "I know you despise me and you probably don't have too many cordial feelings left toward my sister, but I'm begging you to leave this town and never tell anyone you've been here."

Jarod was shocked. "Tell me why she didn't remember me and I'll consider it."

"She's my sister, Jarod," he began with a shrug. "I've killed a lot of people and never thought twice about any of them. I always thought I could kill her without hesitation: the way she thought she killed me once. I went there that night to shoot her in her sleep, but for the first time, I felt like she was half of me. She was a missing piece, my good side, maybe. So I woke her up at gunpoint and told her I'd been sent to kill her. She was surprised, but practically accepted her fate. We talked for a while and decided relocation was her best option. She didn't want to forget, even though she was certain no one would be too hurt if she faked her own death. I didn't want to take any chances, though, so while she was under the influence of the blowfish toxin, I drugged her up a second time to wipe her memories."

"What are you doing here if she doesn't remember anything? Aren't you afraid of being followed?"

"I'm on vacation. The Centre believes I'm 'camping' and no one would be foolish enough to follow me when I'm camping. I come here to make sure no one stumbles across her like you did. I come here to make sure she's still forgotten everything. It is safe for me to come because the only memories I can jog in her involve cannibalism and murder. Mostly, though, I come here to make sure she landed on her feet, has friends, and is happy. She now has a chance to be what we both could have been if we'd grown up normally. Please, Jarod, she's not a Parker anymore, just leave."

"And I'm just supposed to believe this, Lyle," Jarod asked incredulously, although he had already simulated Lyle and decided he was telling the truth. "That Parker really has amnesia and this isn't an elaborate plot by the wonder twins to bring me in is hard enough to swallow, but the idea that a serial killer would help an assassin out of the goodness of his heart is just plain stupid."

Lyle visibly sagged. "I can't give you any proof. The only evidence that anything I've told you is more than just a flight of fancy is playing waitress in a diner back there, but she can't confirm or deny anything. I know it is a moot point asking you to just trust me, so I'll resort to bribery. What can I do to make you forget being here?"

The fact that Lyle would offer to do any sort of favor for Jarod was what finally convinced the pretender that the story was completely accurate. "Did she really believe no one would be too hurt by her death," he asked, not looking at the man next to him.

"Yeah," Lyle answered, surprised at the change of subject. "I thought she was underestimating Sydney and the technician's kid, but she pointed out that they'd be no more or less hurt than if I really killed her."

"Some of her memories are coming back," Jarod said, his tone completely professional and detached. "I had no idea why she was amnesiac or alive for that matter and just meeting me made her remember things in passing. She didn't recognize me, but she warned me away from a trail mix I'd be allergic to, things of that nature. I decided to help her get her memory back. She remembers quite a bit."

Lyle cursed under his breath. "Is she going to shoot me for taking her memory," he asked curiously.

"She doesn't have a gun anymore, not that that means you're in any less danger," the jovial pretender answered. In a slightly more serious tone he continued, "As far as I know, she doesn't remember deciding to fake her death yet, although I have a feeling that if you see her she'll remember that. Her memories are flooding back at the slightest reminders. The drug you gave her must not have been very good."

"To block out her entire memory without damaging her system of production and storage of new memories it has to be pretty good," Lyle defended. "It works best with a willing subject, which I thought she'd be close enough to. She obviously didn't forget everything, she held onto some memory, probably of our mother, which you must have triggered when you first met her."

Jarod smiled at this explanation, but chose not to correct Lyle. "Merits of the drug aside, I've been helping her regain her memory. I won't hurt her or let the Centre know in any way that she did not die, you have my word on that one."

"This is a bad thing," Lyle muttered. "I guess I should go talk to her about this, then?"

"It might help put the other half of her memory in place," Jarod said, perfectly able to keep the hint of melancholy out of his voice. He hoped she would not return to hating him.

"What do you mean by half," Lyle asked. "She only remembers her childhood or something?"

"Or something," Jarod answered, wondering how best to explain this without revealing weaknesses to his enemy. "She remembers quite a bit of what I know of her life. She completely recalls her childhood as well as the gist of her exploits over the last six years or so. She even remembers her boarding school and college experiences to a certain extent, even though I had no idea how to help her remember those because I didn't even know what they were. What she does not remember is why she did most of the things she remembers doing. She doesn't know why she hated me or why her emotions were untouchable."

"And meeting her evil twin might help her to," Lyle half asked, half stated.

"At the very least I'm willing to guess that your presence will help her remember how she came to forget everything. The two of you can sit down and have a conversation as brother and sister for the second time in either of your lives." Jarod hated Lyle, but Parker had always hated the fact that the only member of her family who wouldn't kill her to suit their own ends was already dead. Jarod couldn't deny the woman a brother who risked his own life for hers.

Bill looked curiously at Jarod when he entered the diner with an uncomfortable Lyle in tow, but he didn't say anything. He got Nell's attention and pointed the pair out. Nell saw the two men standing there together and a flashbulb of memory burst through her mind. She clearly recalled the reason she was standing here in an apron instead of at the Centre in a designer suit. A brilliant smile lit her features as she shocked her brother by throwing her arms around him affectionately.

"Thank you, Lyle," she said softly when his arms finally figured out how to return a hug.

"You're not going to shoot me for memory theft," he asked hopefully as she pulled the two men from her past into the kitchen.

"No," she grinned with chagrin at the thought that she probably would have if she still had the rage of her former self. "If I weren't so sentimental, I probably would have agreed to the memory wipe. I understand your reasoning and it was safer for both of us."

"I'm glad it didn't work," he said daringly, "I'm glad my sister isn't really dead."

His words were rewarded with an even broader smile. "I'm glad I have a brother who cares," she replied, "even if we weren't always on the same side."

"I'm glad to be your brother, even if it does make me the evil twin," he answered, finding a smile on his own face. Suddenly, Parker's eyes glazed over and she stared wide-eyed at nothing. "Parker," he asked.

After almost a minute without her responding, Lyle put his hand gingerly on her shoulder and gave her a little shake. The light pressure he applied caused Parker to lose her balance and fall into him, but she still made no move to get up or in any way acknowledged the fact that she was no longer standing under her own power. Lyle looked around for Jarod, but realized the pretender must have slipped away to give them time to talk. Lyle was more than a little worried about his sister's wellbeing.

He got the attention of the cook and sent the man in search of Jarod while he tried desperately to get his sister to acknowledged external stimulus. A minute after the cook left, Jarod entered and took Parker into his own arms, calling to her repeatedly and begging her to hear him. Eventually, her eyes refocused on his face and she smiled.

"Now how did I wind up in your arms, Jarod? Lyle didn't let you take advantage of me, did he?" Parker laughed as Jarod helped her to her feet looking relieved and embarrassed at the same time.

"That must have been a very interesting memory you were reliving," Jarod replied, his voice businesslike and detached. "You were completely unresponsive."

"Not one memory, about a hundred," Parker answered, a small smile replacing her grin. "I believe I can now say my memory is completely back."

"You can," Jarod asked, his voice betraying a small wave of the ocean of apprehension he felt.

"Yes," Parker confirmed, "Lyle would you excuse us for a minute, I have to talk to Jarod in private."

"Sure, Sis," Lyle answered, returning to the diner for a cup of coffee.

"Jarod," Parker said, her voice soft and compassionate, "I've remembered why I hated you."

"Did you," he asked, his entire body tense with a hundred emotions, most threatening to bring tears to his eyes.

Instead of responding verbally, she took his face in both of her hands and kissed him soundly. He was too shocked to pull away. Too confused to move he began to simulate the different reasons she could have for kissing him. As soon as his mind was occupied with simulations, he unconsciously began to return her kiss. Parker was surprised but all together pleased that he did not pull away. His arms wrapped around her and hers moved to his neck. In response to her hungry pulling at his lips, he let his tongue delve deeply into her mouth. He was pulled completely out of his simulations, but he was far too deep in the kiss to extract himself from her embrace.

She pulled away from him momentarily to whisper "I love you," before attempting to capture his mouth a second time, but her pause gave him enough time to think and his relaxed muscles grew taught once more. He did not release her from his embrace, but she was not allowed to kiss him a second time. He merely looked at her with utter confusion riddling every line of his countenance. Parker knew then that she would not get away without a very detailed explanation.

"Did you really remember everything," he begged, pushing her back slightly so that her scent wouldn't intoxicate him so thoroughly. He was almost completely distracted by her proximity, but he managed to maintain a space between their bodies.

"I remember everything there could possibly be to remember," she answered, pulling even more away so that she could comfortably look him in the eye. "I remember every lie my father told me about you. I remember every letter that in retrospect I'm sure you never wrote or recieved. I remember irrationally blaming you for my mother's death. Call it twenty/twenty hindsight, but it only took a brief," Parker ran out of words as tears appeared in her pain-hooded eyes.

"I love you," Jarod said. "I shouldn't need you to give me a reason, you have yet to incredulously ask me how it is that I love you."

"It's too bad," Parker whispered, "You're really cute when you're incredulous." She stole his lips and he did not avoid her.