Disclaimer: I don't own the Pretender…despite any delusions my current Pez high has given me. Would you like a Pez? The characters are not mine and I'm not making any money out of spending hours of my day obsessing over them. In the event that you feel like suing me for using the characters, I will merely plead insanity due to overconsumption of Pez. So again, I ask, would you like a Pez?

Second Disclaimer: I liked my first one so much, I though I'd write another…not really. Anyway, I've borrowed lines from the following episodes /movies of the Pretender: "Keys," "Island of the Haunted," and "Gigolo Jarod." It should be noted that these episodes/movies are not mine. I never wrote them nor did I have anything to do with their development or creation. My apologies for using someone else's work.

Summary: Lyle frames Ms. Parker for murder and guess who comes along as the local sheriff, that's right, Jarod. Will Parker finally allow him to free her from her prison, both literally and figuratively? Post IOTH.

Note: I'm writing another fiction at the moment…or starting to write one…that deals heavily with dates throughout the series. I'm trying to prove just how old Ms. Parker and Jarod are, when Catherine Parker was really murdered, etc. Those of you who watch the series closely will notice how the DSAs and other things don't always match up. Any dates that you have to offer will help immensely!

Behind Bars

By Bec-Bec

The chapter that follows the previous chapter (Why use numbers? They're so conventional, and Parker and Jarod are anything but conventional.)

The Dynamics of the Chase are Changing

Ms. Parker paced her holding cell impatiently. Jarod had been gone for over an hour. Where was he? Why was it taking so long?

She stopped for a moment and stared at the spot she had been standing in when she had last spoken with him. Her mind ran over what happened, marveling at it.

She had finally done it. She had finally told him how she really felt, finally succumbed to the weakness…or rather, to trust. Trust…she trusted Jarod…there was no denying it now. She had submitted to his trust in her and in return had been willing to give him her own trust. She had vague feelings of abhorrence for the thought that trusting Jarod made her weak, but the thought came none the less. After all, she had been bred by her father to avoid showing emotion because emotion was an undisguisable sign of weakness.

She laughed to herself mournfully, what would her father have thought of her now?

She remembered how he had addressed her when she had once confronted him with one of the more hideous truths about her past that Jarod had given her. Jarod had showed her the medical report from her mother's beating and, confused by what it implied, she had spoken with her father. Instead of outwardly disproving it, he had accused her of letting her emotions overcome her.

"I'm disappointed in you."

"You're disappointed in me?"

"Don't tell me you believe this crap."

"But I remember that Thanksgiving, that fight that you had, and a few months later she was dead."

"Don't let your emotions run away with you, I taught you better than that."

Yes, he had taught her to be the hard formidable woman she was, but at the same time, he had managed to crush her heart over and over with the lies he had told her. She couldn't even remember the last time something other than a lie had been directed at her from her father. But then, the last time they had spoken, he had hurled himself out of an airplane…after she had found out he lied about even being her father.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I've read the scrolls, Angel, and I'm returning them to the sea. It's the only way to stop the Parker madness, the madness that started the Centre."

"What?!"

"The scrolls are real, so is the pain they inflicted, especially on your mother. I know that now, I know that. It's time to fulfill her wish and send this evil back where it belongs. It's controlled our family for too long."

Ms. Parker shook her head sadly, she wanted to believe that he had jumped for the right reasons, but given his past track record, it wasn't an easy thing to believe. Yet, some part of her still trusted the man she called her father, some part of her always would because it was something she needed to live. It was a dependency that she could never quite break no matter how harmful it was…no matter how much of the awful truth uncovered itself and showed her the horrible things that he had done.

Ms. Parker resumed pacing the cell. She hoped Jarod knew what he was up against by choosing to trust her, by choosing to care for her. And, for her own sake, she hoped that she wouldn't hurt him or herself too badly as they tried to overcome their grim past…or more directly, her grim past.

She had done some pretty terrible things in the past, and she had let herself be used by some of the most despicable people. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, her trust in her father had often cost her dearly. She hoped that, now, it wasn't going to cost her Jarod.

Jarod had warned her so many times that trusting her father was risky…but then, having anything to do with the Centre was risky. Risks were just a part of her world. Her newest risk would be trying to form any sort of rewarding relationship with Jarod. It would also be the biggest action against her father's wishes she would ever make…though, if he was dead, it didn't seem to matter so much. Jarod would have to learn to live with the fact that her trust in her father wasn't going to just go away, that the hard woman he had created was still very much a part of who she was.

"It doesn't suit you."

"What?"

"This façade you put up. You try to act like your father but he's not who you are."

"This is business, Jarod, not personal, no matter how hard you try and make it that way."

It seemed that Jarod was right, it was personal, very personal. All of these years, the chase had not been merely about the capture, but about finding themselves in the process. Finding herself had been the hardest. Was she her father? Or, was she her mother? Even now she didn't know. Somewhere between Hell and a turning point. That seemed to be where she was perpetually stuck. Hopefully, alongside Jarod, she would finally discover which path she was supposed to take, who she really was.

It was remarkable that, with every terrible thing she had done in the past, he was still willing to trust her. But then, he seemed to already know who she was…in a way. While she struggled to choose between the repressed coldness of her father and the warm selflessness of her mother, Jarod seemed to think she was already her mother.

"Only you can decide for yourself whether or not to take a hard look at your life, the way your mother once did."

"Leave my mother out of this, okay. I am not her."

"Then who are you? Your father? Is the Parker legacy what you want to pass on to your children?"

Well, she was taking a hard look now, and the Parker legacy began to look more hideous and uninviting every time she did. That was the gruesome part of herself that she most definitely would never want any child to have to deal with. She'd had to deal with it herself and she would never wish it on anyone. Yet, it was still a part of her, and that scared her to death.

Her head was swimming by this point and she hoped desperately that Jarod was coming back soon so she could remember why she was trying to fight against the harshness when it was so much easier to submit to it and be defeated by it. The Ice Queen had nothing to lose…the real Ms. Parker had everything to lose.

She paused in her movements again. Her father had said the new Parker legacy began with her…but what was that legacy? Did it include Jarod? She vaguely wondered what the scrolls had said that could have possessed her father to jump, and what they might have said about her and Jarod's futures, but she stopped herself from pondering the topic for too long; it was futile to spend her time thinking over questions that could never be answered. She wouldn't know any of it until she lived it for herself…but to do that, she had to be out of jail.

"Where are you, Jarod?" she asked the room softly. She sat down on the little cot and rubbed her temples. Sleep deprivation was beginning to have its effects on her. Between the early phone call, the energy it had taken to maintain her coolness when she was arrested, and then the emotional outburst she'd had with Jarod, her adrenaline had peaked and died and then peaked again and died again, leaving her listless and utterly worn out.

She wanted to sleep, but she wasn't sleepy, just tired. Besides, she would never sleep in a jail cell, who knew who else had slept on the nasty little mattress. The thought made her grimace; she'd definitely need a shower after this.

She rubbed her eyes wearily, and with nothing else to occupy her, her thoughts again turned to the past. She tried to remember a time when she was actually happy, but those memories were so few and far between. They also continuously made her sad and depressed because every time she found happiness again, it was snatched away…by the Centre.

"She felt consumed by a great void and a silent abyss as terrifying as the grand palace around her. But, somewhere in the chilling blackness, she caught a glimpse of a light, she remembered a time; the precocious little girl with a heart full of fire, a soul enflamed by passion, and a smile that could melt winter and spring. But, the light was gone; the flame had died. Her past was taken from her by the soldiers of the great palace. She would continue searching, hoping to rekindle the fire. Until then, she would always be the saddest little valentine."

That was the passage of Jarod's novel that had touched her the most. She had been searching, for so long, internally, to become the little girl she was before the Centre had corrupted her. The Centre always brought more misery to her, she supposed that's why she had become so cold over the years, so emotionally bereft. Hopefully this time would be different. Jarod was a fighter; he always had been, so with him at her side, the Centre couldn't ruin them, right?

The doubts that circulated through her mind were treacherous, and it was only when the door to the room opened, that she tried to repossess her composure. Even if it was Jarod, she wasn't going to let him see her broken-down under the pressure of her confusion and doubt. Some part of her Ice Queen persona still would not allow such an action…though, she had cried in front of him earlier that day, and up until that point it had been an unspoken rule that they would never cry in front of one another. Still, she wouldn't allow herself to breakdown in the middle of the Blue Cove police department, regardless of whether or not Jarod would mind, it was just too much of an emotionally revealing action.

However, the door did not reveal Jarod, but another officer, followed by the stout officer whom she had spoken with before.

Standing, she walked toward the officers. "Where is Sheriff Wilson?" she asked, remembering to call Jarod by his current pseudonym.

The stout officer answered, "He got transferred out to Chicago."

"Chicago," Ms. Parker said bluntly.

The stout officer nodded.

Jarod was gone! What the hell was going on? He left her there? How could that be after their last conversation?

Automatically, the only thing she ever had to turn to when she was panicked kicked into gear. The anger surged through her, blocking out any reasonable thought that could refute what Jarod has just done to her.

Bastard. Here she was, finally having allowed herself to appear vulnerable, finally admitting the truth to Jarod, and he had left her stuck in hell.

Well, he better be happy because now she'd track him down more viciously than ever. No one made a fool of a Parker, no one…but she didn't even want to be a Parker. What was going on?

Confusion and doubt, again, overtook her.

The other officer spoke up, "Real nice guy, Sheriff Wilson. He got transferred in here back in December, took over for our last sheriff, even found the assailant who gunned the old sheriff down."

Ms. Parker just stared at them emptily, unfeeling. Jarod had left to go to Chicago. He had left her to rot in prison. It seemed that trust did in fact mean nothing at all.

She wanted to curl up in a ball and weep. NO. Now was not the time for a breakdown, not in front of Deputy "Dandy" from this Podunk Andy Griffith prison.

"Andy Taylor" she whispered softly, correcting herself; his quirks were infectious. Oh God…why would Jarod do this to her?

"Anyway," the stout officer began again, not hearing her comment, "before he left, he said that your story checked out, and phone records proved that you had in fact been responding to a phone call in your home right after the time of death of the victim, so you hadn't been at the site at the time. He also found the license for that gun you had on you. He filled out the paperwork for your release himself."

The stout officer stepped forward and unlocked the cell, allowing a very stiff Ms. Parker to walk through.

The other officer spoke again, "You can get your belongings at the front desk and use the phone to call yourself a cab."

"Thank you," Ms. Parker said rigidly, before walking briskly from the room and reacquiring her things at the front desk.

Why would Jarod help her get out of the police department and then vanish into thin air? It didn't make any sense. What was she supposed to do? It had seemed, after their last conversation, that when she was released, she would join him on the run and they would take the Centre down side by side. But now, he was on his way to Chicago while she was still in Blue Cove.

Her anger fired up at her current abandonment and she silently reprimanded herself for believing that Jarod was going to allow her to suddenly come running to his side. Damn Jarod, damn her for trusting him, and damn the Centre, just because it was there.

Jarod was just like all of the rest of them; he didn't care about her in the slightest. He was a liar just like everyone else in her life. No, Jarod was even worse because he acted as though he cared. He was a wolf in sheep's clothing. He had duped her.

Feelings of anger and hatred threatened to overcome her, but she couldn't forget her directive. She'd meant what she said; she wasn't going back to the Centre. She used the phone to call herself a cab so she could go to her house and collect some things to travel with, and then walked out of the station.

Emerging into the bright morning light, she rummaged through her bag of regained belongings and pulled out her sunglasses.

Ms. Parker began to walk to a bench, off to the side of the building, in the shade to wait for her cab, when an arm suddenly reached out and grasped her by the shoulder.

She spun around quickly, ready to assault whoever it was that dared to touch her, when her gaze fell on Jarod, standing calmly in front of her.

"Jarod," she growled angrily.

Jarod's brow furrowed at her sudden hostility. "What's wrong."

"What's wrong! You left me in there. What the hell are you doing?" She spoke slowly with increased anger backing her words.

"Parker, calm down." He reached out an arm to hers to quiet her down but she swatted it away and turned her head to the side so she wasn't looking at him straight on, not that he could see her eyes anyway, they were still concealed by the dark sunglasses.

"Don't touch me." Ms. Parker's voice was cold and sent chills down Jarod's spine. "Tell me, Jarod, why it was necessary for you to leave without telling me where you were going."

Jarod was confused. "I didn't leave, I'm right here."

Ms. Parker turned back to face him, pulling her sunglasses off so that her eyes were no longer covered.

Jarod could see that they were laced with fresh pain, but Ms. Parker continued in a menacing tone and the look on her face did not soften.

"No, Jarod, you did leave and I had to hear from your lame police sidekicks that you had transferred to Chicago."

Jarod became as upset as she was. Only, his anger was over the fact that she really believed he'd do that to her. "You honestly thought that after our last conversation I was going to just waltz off and leave you here."

"Isn't that what you usually do, Houdini? Vanish into thin air? No notes, no messages, nothing at all, you're just gone and I'm stuck in this rat hole like usual." Ms. Parker's voice was spiteful.

Jarod's voice answered her spite sternly. "That was your choice Parker. I never made you stick around here all of these years."

She laughed sadly, before continuing in a low growl. "As if your pure existence wasn't enough. If I hadn't been assigned to your pursuit I might have gotten away from the Centre."

Jarod scoffed. "They'd never let you go Parker. I don't know why you ever believed they would." Jarod paused for a moment before continuing in a voice that could rival her disdain filled one. "The Centre believes that they own us, that human lives can be bought and sold and manipulated at their will. How could you be naïve enough to think they'd let you just walk away? They don't let any of us go. Didn't your mother's murder get that through your head? And if not that, I felt sure you would have figured it out when they killed Thomas right at your own house. Wake up Parker."

Blind rage began to consume Parker as Jarod's words hit her hard. "What the hell do you know, Jarod? As if you weren't caught up in your own naïve dreams about the world. Do you honestly think this crusade against the world's power corrupted morons you've had going for the last few years is winning you merit badges with someone?"

Jarod's face tightened contemptibly at her comments. "At least I've been trying to make amends for all of the terrible things that have happened in my life, all of the evil that I was a part of. What have you ever done that's half as bold as that, Ms. Parker? You're too busy seeking your father's approval, waiting for him to pet you while you carry out his every demented scheme. At least I had an excuse for letting them use me to further their psychotic agenda; I didn't know. But you knew, Parker, you knew enough. You were a cleaner, you've seen what they've done, still, you never had the courage to just walk away."

They stood on the sidewalk, as the nameless masses, who had no idea what evil lurked in that industrial building right on the edge of town, went on leading their happy lives. Yes, they could live happily, secure in the knowledge that they were safe, that with law enforcement right nearby, everything was going to be okay. They had no idea of the ways in which individuals driven by greed and power could corrupt the most sound and indestructible of men. No idea of the horrors the two people arguing on the side of the street had witnessed, had participated in.

Silence fell between Parker and Jarod as the comments they used to defend their precious worlds cut deeply into eachother's hearts. It seemed that all they could ever do was hurt one another.

Jarod straightened up as though he were going to speak again, then shook his head softly, turned and walked away from Parker.

Ms. Parker's eyes flashed with anger at the sight of him walking away and she called after him. "And off you run, again. Aren't you tired of it yet, Jarod?" Her words were meant to scathe him, hurt him like he'd hurt her by abandoning her in the police department, but they ended up sounding more tired than harsh.

Jarod stopped in his tracks, and turned, speaking to her across the few feet that separated them; across the wall she always built to keep herself from getting to close to anyone. "Aren't you tired, Parker? Isn't that what you meant before? That you were tired of the game, tired of the chase?"

Jarod's eyes stared straight into Ms. Parker's. She felt as though they were touching her very soul. She turned her eyes down shakily, trying to break his connection with her, but unable to do so. He knew her too well. That was always the problem. While she kept him so very far away, he was still always right up close with her.

Admittedly, somewhere, buried beneath every thought of fear and anger, rage and hatred, she had known Jarod wouldn't leave her, he never did.

"What's it gonna be, Parker? Is it I run and you chase, or are you finally ready to let go?" Jarod interrupted her thoughts.

"Let go of what?" She stalled, trying to come to some reasonable understanding of what she should say.

Jarod's laugh was hollow. "If you don't know, you aren't ready to let go. I'll see you around, Parker." He turned and began to walk away again.

"Get the hell back here Jarod!" Parker yelled out, running after him. "I'm not done talking to you."

"Yes you are." Jarod continued walking, not turning to face her as she ran up behind him.

Ms. Parker grabbed his arm and spun him around. "No, Jarod, no dial tones today," she said sternly.

Jarod looked away. "Talking on the phone is easier, Parker, because I don't have to look at you throwing your life away trusting the wrong people."

Ms. Parker narrowed her eyes. "For the last goddam time, Jarod. I-Trust-You." She stressed each word making them carry the importance she wanted him to know she felt they had.

"Then why did you think I was going to leave without you?" Jarod's eye's bored into her, daring her to admit that she didn't trust him.

But, she did trust him, that was the whole problem. It was tearing her up inside. Her loyalties were finally being torn between the hard, domineering persona her father had created, and the warm, welcoming one her mother had passed down to her.

Ms. Parker bit her lip and swore softly. "Because Jarod that's my S.O.P. It's all I have to protect me."

Again, Jarod laughed hollowly. "Because I'm so dangerous, Parker. Who knows, I might cause you to face your fears one day. 'Ooh bad, have to yell and pull my gun.' " Jarod mocked her.

Ms. Parker gritted her teeth, as Jarod spurred her anger. "If you're not careful, you might find yourself on the business end of that very firearm in a few seconds."

"My mistake in clearing you of your charges for carrying an unlicensed weapon," Jarod spat back. "It seems my trust in you has backfired again. You would think, by now, that I would have learned better."

"Apparently there are some things that even a pretender can't absorb," Ms. Parker paused for a long angst filled moment as she and Jarod had an intense staring contest. "Like the fact that I care about you, and for once in my life I'm not lying," she finished curtly.

Jarod narrowed his eyes, but did not break their intense gaze into Ms. Parker's eyes. "How do I know that you're not lying?"

"Because I said so," she continued menacingly.

"You've said a lot of things, Parker. I could recount them all to you, and quite a few would reveal some things you don't want them to." Jarod's tone was truthful and firm.

Ms. Parker replied sternly. "What? Like the fact that I live a lie daily? Been there, done that. Try a new one, Jarod, this one's getting too tired for even a network movie of the week."

Jarod was confused. "What?"

Ms. Parker sighed in exasperation and reiterated her former statement. "It's getting old, Jarod. We always say the same stupid things to each other. We always dance the same stupid dance. It's cliched."

"I run and you chase, just like always," Jarod added dryly. "That's the drill, right."

"Not anymore. I said we're raising the stakes, Jarod. The dynamics of the chase are changing. We're taking a gamble here, by trying to pursue a relationship. But, it's a gamble I'm willing to take. Are you?"

There was that bare-all tone she'd had before, when she had spoken to him in the department. Last time he had heard it, he had made the mistake of not believing her, and caused her to cry, caused her inadvertent pain. But not this time. If she meant it, they were the greatest words he had ever heard in the world.

"Yes."

"Good." Ms. Parker's relief was evident by how her stance softened, but her voice continued, strong and steady. "Now, get me the hell out of here, Jarod."

"Out of lovely, Blue Cove, Delaware?" Jarod joked.

"Snake pit," Ms. Parker replied, in typical Parker fashion.

Jarod laughed. "Snake pit, rat hole, Rat Boy, Lab Rat; Parker, did you notice that you have an affection for using animals to characterize situations and people."

"Tongue of venom," Ms. Parker answered. "Now shut up, and move your ass, Rat Boy. Time to go."

Jarod chuckled. It was good to have Parker on his side.

"Yes, m'lady," Jarod said subserviently, still joking with her.

"That's a good boy, Pez Head, now fetch the car."

"Yes, m'lady." Jarod let out another laugh.

Now, Parker laughed as well. It felt good, fulfilling in a way.

Jarod smiled widely at the sight of Parker laughing. It was a rare sight, and he reveled in it. He led the way to his car, and they drove off, leaving behind their past in that "snake pit," Blue Cove, Delaware…for the time being anyway.

Author's Note: Sorry that this chapter was shorter, but it took two weeks and fourteen rewrites to get even this much. (The last chapter had twelve rewrites! I'm getting picky about my writing.) I torture myself that way. But oh well, having something to be proud of is worth it, right? I'm trying to stay as close to the actual characters as possible, and it's a struggle. It also takes a lot of time and energy…sigh. I tend to bounce back pretty easily. I just keep hammering at the story until it's sculpted just the way I want it, something I neglected to do on any of my other stories. Anyway, I'm sure I'm wasting your time by continuing to ramble incessantly, so I'm gonna wrap this up.

Tell me what you thought characterization wise, story wise, etc. Anything you've got to say, send it right along. I LOVE FEEDBACK! I think I'm bringing Lyle into the next chapter, any thoughts on good episodes to pull quotes from for him? Please send a review. Love Ya!