I'm so sorry that it took so long before I'd finished this part, but well, I'm still recovering from FedCon *g* And thank you so much for the reviews :) They mean a lot, especially since this is my first try at non-TNG fanfiction ;) *makes happy noises*

Pretences

Chapter Four

2000, March 24th

Earth

With her arms crossed in front of her chest Deanna Troi stared at her new wardrobe. Jarod had bought the clothes the day before, not quite understanding why his guest refused to accompany him. He had done a wonderful job; none of the clothes were like anything she'd normally wear, save for a handful of dresses, but none of the clothes appalled her either. Troi checked her appearance one more time and then headed out to living area.

"I wish there was someway to pay you back." She said quietly, drawing a genuine smile from her savior.

"Don't worry about it, it isn't my money anyway."

It was amazing really, how little they knew about each other and yet they trusted each other. Deanna couldn't shake of the feeling that Jarod was as lost as she. She circled around him so that she could look onto the screen he held in front of him.

Her eyes fell on a young boy, obviously the center of whatever footage he was watching. "Why would someone do this Sydney?" The view shifted to a man standing left of the boy, "you tell me Jarod." He almost ordered the boy. The child walked over to a table, studying the photo's laying upon it.

A gasp of horror left Deanna's throat as she saw the mutilated bodies on the picture. "My god! Who would do something like that?!"

"Someone very angry and hurt." Young Jarod answered her.

=/\=

Keep running! No! Don't look back! She tried to yell at the young woman, urge her to keep moving as fast as she could, hoping that somehow she could help her escaping the beast following her. But her voice didn't reach above a whisper and the girl kept looking over her shoulder. Don't be a fool! There was no use in looking back! Why didn't the girl just focus on running? Determined to help her, she kept her eyes on the somewhat illuminated yellow hair of the prey. Run!

The hunter was closing in on his barefooted prey and suddenly she realized something; the hunter wasn't hunting at all: he was playing. He was doing nothing more than giving the blonde woman the illusion that she had a chance to escape from him. Oh my God! By the way to woman's pace slowed and faltered it was easy to see she was getting tired and the observer could almost feel the stalkers anticipation rise.

Then suddenly, out of nowhere another woman appeared at the perimeter of her vision, her face a center of light among black curls. She seemed to take a couple of seconds to review the situation, and then reached out to the staggering girl. This new woman seemed invisible to the hunted, for she showed no sign of seeing the held out hand. Amazingly enough the running woman seemed to regain her balance completely and she took off at a greater and steadier pace than before. Good girl! Keep going!

She could swear feeling the hunters surprise and then annoyance as he too sped up his movements. The man was however better conditioned and their horror, he caught up with the blonde woman easily.

"No!!!" A loud voice suddenly ripped through the air, the first sound she had heard since the start of her observation of the terrifying scene. "Please! Don't hurt her!" But neither the hunter, nor his prey heard the voice.

The woman with the blonde hair was on her back now, scurrying away from her attacker. Even though she should be able to see him clearly now, the hunter remained cloaked in darkness. All she could see was the knife he held and the cuts he inflicted with it.

Her eyes flew back to the other observer when the victim twisted her body in such an angle that she seemed to be looking directly at the dark-haired stranger. To her complete amazement, her counterpart responded by whispering alien words. The words were repeated over and over again, forming an unfamiliar, yet comforting chant. But while the alien words strengthened and comforted the victim, tears streamt down the pale complexion of the woman who chanted them.

And then, with a swipe of the knife it ended.

"Rachel? Rachel? Are you all right?" Slowly the world –the real world—swam back into existence, embodied by concerned eyes of Malony. It took her longer than normal to recover from the flashback, and judging by the expressions of those around it had lasted longer than normal as well. Not to mention, it had been a lot clearer and precise than usual; almost as if her gift was been magnified by something…or someone.

=/\=

Horrified by what she had observed, Deanna Troi sank into the couch, unintentionally ignoring Jarod's questions. What she had seen was terrifying! Never had she experienced anything like it. The horror and fear of the blonde woman still run through her veins, even now she knew that that woman had been killed. What a horrible way to die!

Through the fear and revulsion raging inside of her, she could feel Jarod's alarm and fiercely wished it was Will who was with her. Will would've been able to help her regain her emotional balance through the bond that tied his soul to hers. She pictured his blue eyes sparkling at her, a stubborn lock of brown hair hanging just above it, unwilling to fall into place among the others. His strong jaw lines covered by a prickly beard and his soft, but very skilled lips, hidden beneath the fur. {I miss you} She tried to send to him, despite knowing the futility of the attempt.

Amazingly enough, just thinking about him chased away most of the dark feelings she had absorbed and she was able to look at Jarod without the terror showing in her eyes. "Are you all right?" He questioned eventually. Had she been asleep, he'd have thought she was having a nightmare, but they'd been talking when suddenly she jerked in her chair and zoomed out. Not long after that tears started falling from her black eyes and she'd started chanting alien words.

"Yes, yes, I'm all right."

"What happened?"

Troi opened her mouth to answer, and then closed it as she couldn't find the words to describe what her culture called M'nai –a travel of the mind. "It, erm, it happens sometimes."

"It doesn't seem a very nice experience." Oh, it can be Troi grinned to herself. "What is it like?" He's not giving up this time, she realized with a tightening in her stomach; the Prime Directive had to be preserved at all costs. "I had this friend once," Jarod spoke before she could reply, "she worked at the FBI and had this special…gift…that caused her to receive flashes of things that happened or would happen when she touched some items belonging to a witness or suspect."

"Tkil'h" Deanna blurted before she could stop herself. "Touch tele-vision."

The Pretender considered the term for a while, then nodded in agreement. "Do you have the same gift?"

And the perfect cover provided itself just in time; Troi had to bit back a strong sigh of relief. "Something like that yes."

"So what did you see?"

=/\=

Pacing did nothing to relieve her frustration, it never had and it never would, so why was she pacing? She listened carefully to the click-clack sounds her heels made on the cold floor her mind already working on how to trace Jarod's steps…again.

They had been so close to catching him, hell, she'd held him at gunpoint several times and yet he got away time and time again. She should be frustrated, angry, mad as hell, but instead she couldn't help but feel a tiny bit of relief. And was that so wrong? She had been faithful to the Centre, or in the very least her father, and look where it had gotten her. Her mother killed, her brother killed, Thomas killed, she could only wonder who was next?

"Oh my god" She recognized the tone immediately and she had worked with the man long enough to know that it wasn't a positive one, or even just a shocked one.

"What?"

Sydney could only point at the screen in front of him. Memories tumbled through his mind, triggered by the report of a murder case on the TV. "It can't be," he mumbled, "he is dead…we killed him!"

Parker's eyes shifted from her partner to the screen and she had to bite back a vomiting reflex when she saw the mutilated body of a blonde woman. Someone had use a knife to kill her…very thoroughly and the words "I'm back" had been carved across her torso and stomach, blood seeping from the letters written in flesh.