See part 1 ("Another Woman") for disclaimer.
The Friendship Cycle Three: His Girl Friday
By Ginger
"Jesus, Jarod!"
Her knees may have been shaking but Parker's hands were steady as she clicked on the safety of her 9mm. It was 1:00 a.m. and she hadn't been expecting him. She hadn't been expecting anyone, which is why she'd crept downstairs with her gun drawn and flicked on the light to find Jarod sitting on her couch. He didn't turn to her or say a word; his only response was a heavy sigh. Shaking her head and glancing heavenward, Parker moved around the couch and set her gun on the mantle of the fireplace before turning her attention to him.
"Jesus, Jarod."
He looked terrible. He had a couple days worth of razor stubble which was not in itself a bad thing, she noted before quickly banishing the thought from her mind. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked pale. Clearly he hadn't slept in a while. A sudden chill went up her spine and she gently took a seat beside him before inquiring,
"What's wrong? Has something happened? Your family…" She paused and swallowed hard. "Ethan?"
"Fine," he replied in a low voice, barely above a whisper. "They're all fine." He turned and looked into her eyes. "I just needed to see you. It's been a…" He shook his head and glanced away before muttering, "…rough week."
Parker studied him a moment then it dawned on her. There was an all too familiar flutter in her stomach, followed immediately by a twinge of guilt, and she asked, "You did it, didn't you?"
He looked into her eyes again and nodded slowly. "It was horrible. She just kept crying and crying and repeating 'I knew it!' over and over again. I don't think I've ever seen anyone cry so hard. She was choking and hiccupping; she could barely breathe. When she finally calmed down, she told me that she loved me; that she fell in love with me the moment she saw me. Do you think that's true? Is that even possible? Can one person look at another and fall instantly in love?"
"I… I don't know, Jarod," she stammered in response, unable to decide what was more ludicrous, the question itself or the fact that it was being asked of her. "I'm hardly the world's leading expert on affairs of the heart."
Smiling sadly, his eyes traveled to where her hand rested on the seat between them. He gently took it in his and, brushing his thumb across her knuckles, offered, "I'm sorry, it was wrong of me to ask you, particularly …" He paused and expelled a heavy breath then lifted her hand and pressed it to his forehead. Rubbing his forehead tenderly against the back of her hand, he whispered, "…under the circumstances."
The butterflies returned, as did the twinge of guilt, which this time was more like a tidal wave. Parker cleared her throat, signaling that she wanted her hand back, and Jarod complied. Eager to change the subject, such as it was, she inquired tentatively,
"So… now what? Has she… is she going… home?"
"Actually," he began, the tiniest wry smile gracing his lips. "That's my 'legitimate' reason for being here." His expression darkened and he continued, "Zoe's safety is of paramount concern to me. If anything were to happen to her because of her association with me, I wouldn't be able to live with myself."
Parker nodded, musing that it was bad enough to be dumped by one's boyfriend. Winding up locked away in Renewal Wing afterwards would definitely be adding insult to injury.
"What will happen?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.
"I don't think we've anything to worry about. They're watching her house, of course. Hell, they're still watching Nia Perdon's house and that was years a…" Noting his look of shocked amusement she cleared her throat and continued, "Did you know that she was married in May of '99 and has an eleven month old daughter? It's actually Nia Stewart now."
Raising an eyebrow and smirking, he replied, "I know. I haven't seen her… since. But I've kept tabs myself to make sure she was okay, although I do believe that any real danger was over the moment you climbed back into the black sedan."
There was a pregnant pause as each stared knowingly into the other's eyes until Parker broke the silence. "As I said, they're watching her house and her family, waiting for her to rematerialize. They'll send a team to interrogate her, of course. If she appears genuinely hostile toward you, which is what they'd expect under the circumstances…"
"No problem there," Jarod interjected with a frown.
She sighed and continued, "They'll grill her for information about your activities and whereabouts over the last year. Of course, your family will have to move immediately from, and never return to, any location known to Zoe."
"I know," he replied with another frown. "And I've already discussed it with them. They're all disappointed because they really love it up there in…"
"Don't tell me, Jarod. I don't want to know anything about your family's whereabouts. Just because I'd never willingly reveal that information doesn't mean my 'employer' doesn't have 'alternative' modes of access to it."
His frown evolved into a look of profound anxiety. He squeezed her hand and sighed, "I'm so tired of living like this."
"I know."
"It was absurd of me to think I could have a 'normal' relationship with someone else. Now that it's ended, the bizarre circumstances of my life just make it so much worse."
"I know," Parker repeated, trying to ignore the unreasoning delight she felt in his use of the word "else."
"I really made a mess of things… for Zoe… and my family. It was unfair of me to…"
"You deserve a life, Jarod," she counseled softly. "And please try not to worry too much about this. When they're convinced it's really over between you, they'll continue to watch her but I'm pretty sure they'll leave it at that. The thing about them is that they strive to stay under the radar. If they went around guns blazing, picking off 'civilians,' they'd tend to draw unwanted attention. As it is, last year I made it clear to Daddy that the stunt Lyle pulled was 'unhelpful' at best. Ultimately, the moron didn't accomplish anything so he didn't score any points, which is all that matters to him in the long run. Just to be on the safe side, I'll keep an eye on things. Besides, Angelo's got our backs; he'll let me know if anything is amiss. I promise. You can trust me."
He smiled and she could feel the warmth emanating from him as he said, "I know I can. Thank you, Parker."
"You're welcome, Jarod." She returned his smile and there was, again, silence as each contemplated the other.
After a time, Jarod inquired, "So, what do you want to do now?"
"Do?" Parker repeated incredulously. "It's 1:30 in the morning."
"And?"
"AND you should be going, don't you think? Unless you want to crash here for a couple hours; you look like you could use some sleep. If you like, I'll set my alarm and wake you before the sun comes up."
"Actually…" He began tentatively. "I was rather hoping…"
"What?"
"Since it is Friday night… well, Saturday morning…"
"WHAT?"
"I know you don't have anything planned for tomorrow."
"What," she repeated warily.
"I thought I might hang around. We could spend the day together. Obviously, we can't go out, but I happen to know that Lyle and Cox are off on a wild goose chase because I'm the one who provided the goose, so to speak. And your father's in…"
"The Cayman Islands until Tuesday."
"Well, what do you think?"
"What are we supposed to do cooped up in the house all day?" Parker blurted out before she'd taken the time to weigh the implication of question then quickly averted her eyes.
Grinning at the faint flush of her of cheeks, Jarod replied playfully, "Oh, we'll think of something," then tacked on with a shrug, "bake cookies, maybe. Speaking of which, do you have anything to eat? I'm hungry."
Sighing, Parker hauled herself up from the couch and lumbered over to the mantle to retrieve her gun then headed out of the room. Before exiting she turned and asked,
"By the way, how the hell do you waltz in and out of here undetected?"
Digging into his pocket, Jarod produced and held up a key.
"What's that?"
"A key to your patio door."
"I don't even think I have a key to my patio door."
"I can have one made for you if you like," he offered cheekily.
"Asshole," she retorted with a smile, adding, "Just out of curiosity, how many times have you been in here since your escape?"
With a smirk, he replied, "I'll be happy to answer that question but, if it's all the same to you, I'd rather wait until you're NOT holding your gun."
"Asshole," she repeated then turned around again. She headed up the hallway then stopped dead in her tracks and muttered,
"Bake cookies?"
* * * *
"Mmmm..." Jarod hummed as he chewed. "Who knew Miss Parker could cook," he mumbled through a mouthful.
"You don't get out much, do you? It's a roast beef sandwich, Jarod, not filet mignon."
"Still..." he began, took a sip from his tall glass of water, and continued, "It's very good."
"Thanks," she replied distractedly as she watched him devour the humble meal she'd prepared for him. She detected the same contentment that had been there in Florida and thought it ridiculous that all she'd had to do was stop being cruel to him and, as far as he was concerned, the slate was wiped clean. Meanwhile, he'd just dumped a woman who had never been cruel to him, one who had cared for him from the moment she'd laid eyes on him. Parker could believe that Zoe had felt love at first sight; she could believe it because she remembered the first time she had met Jarod, when they were kids, and how she had wished on the spot that she could make him her very own, whatever that meant to a ten year old girl. She had wished the same thing about the rabbits they'd played with, so who knows. Now he was in her home in the middle of the night, delighting in her company and a stupid roast beef sandwich, and all because she had simply stopped trying to deprive him of his basic human rights.
"I need a drink," she announced. "Want one?" He shook his head in response as he grabbed the second sandwich she'd prepared.
She heard the television come on as she padded over to the liquor cabinet and glanced over her shoulder to see Jarod flipping channels with one hand as he attacked his second roast beef sandwich with the other. She smiled and shook her head as she poured herself a glass of Glenlivet then returned to the spot next to him as Jarod continued to channel surf.
"For crying out loud, PICK SOMETHING ALREADY!" she barked after about five minutes, noting to herself that she had demonstrated more patience than she'd have previously thought possible. Nevertheless, his surfing continued unabated.
"That's it!" she bellowed after a couple more minutes. "Give me that!"
She lunged for the remote. Popping the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth, Jarod took evasive action and held it at arm's length so that Parker was forced to reach across him to go after it. It was only when she found herself straddling his lap and could feel the silk of her top sliding across the cotton of his that she realized what he was doing.
"Why you sneaky little bastard," she warned through clenched teeth, although her eyes told a different story.
"Here," he said with a devilish smile, handing her the remote. "By the way, blue is definitely your color."
Parker glanced down to find that she was indeed wearing blue, royal blue... pajamas. Glancing up to meet his eyes again, she raised her chin defiantly, narrowed her eyes and replied, "Thank you," before climbing off his lap and settling next to him. Feeling his arm go around her immediately, she smiled as she took her turn flipping channels.
* * * *
"Oh, God," Jarod groaned, "Did he just say 'the animal in me?' In my experience – which I realize is somewhat limited relative to my age – men do not speak in clichés, not even when in the company of an attractive woman. Do you think they might have been going for irony?"
Chuckling, Parker replied, "I don't think so. This movie is really THAT bad."
"So why are we watching it?"
"Because sometimes there is nothing more satisfying than watching a cheesy horror flick and talking back to the screen, that's why. Oh and there's the guy; he's a hottie."
"A hottie?"
"A hottie. A biscuit. A fine piece of a…"
"I get it. He's a little on the hairy side."
"Poor boy… another 80s fashion victim. He's definitely made a bad hairstyle decision and that facial hair is unfortunate too," she observed, adding with a smirk and a sideward glance, "but he isn't the only man in recorded history to suffer such a fate. He more than makes up for it with that body, though. Bless your little heart, honey," she tacked on playfully, addressing the television screen.
Jarod leaned in to speak softly into her ear, "I notice our 'hero' has dark hair and eyes. May I read that as evidence of a certain partiality on your part to dark hair and eyes?"
"Oops! Oh well, we can turn it now," was Parker's response as, grinning mischievously, she leaned forward to grab the remote.
"But it isn't over yet," Jarod protested.
"The hottie has just been turned into a werewolf. More hair, less bod; there's no point in watching any further. Besides, I'd be willing to bet my gun that it doesn't get any BETTER."
"Now there's something I completely underestimated," Jarod observed thoughtfully.
"What?" Parker asked distractedly as she scanned the channels, trying to discern what they all were. It had been ages since she'd turned on the television.
"How truly weird you are."
"Ha, that's rich coming from you, Pez Head. Ah, finally! And it's just started too."
"What is it?"
"'His Girl Friday'"
"His girl what?"
"'Friday.' Ever seen it?"
"Nope."
"It's a classic; Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell."
"So, the beautiful brunette that just strolled in is named Friday?"
"No, you idiot, a 'girl Friday' is, well, it's an antiquated term, casualty of feminism I think, that means a woman a man can always depend on."
"Well, I like the brunette, whatever her name is. She's got a sharp tongue."
"So," Parker purred. "May I read that as evidence of a certain partiality on your part to brunettes with sharp tongues?"
"It would appear so," Jarod replied with a sigh as he tightened his arm around her, pulling her closer.
* * * *
Parker awoke with a jolt to find that she and Jarod had both fallen asleep sitting up on her couch. Rubbing her neck, she picked up the remote and switched off the television then elbowed him gently in the ribs.
"Jarod, wake up."
"Hmrmrm"
"C'mon, wake up. I'll make up the guest bedroom for you. You'll be more comfortable there." She started to get up only to find herself being pulled down again.
"I'm fine right here," he mumbled as he began to maneuver them into a horizontal position on the, thankfully oversized, sofa.
"This is a four-thousand-dollar piece of furniture, Jarod. At least take your shoes off," she advised with a sigh as she reached up to pull down the light cotton blanket draped over the back of the couch. He complied, kicking off his shoes as she covered them both with the blanket. Then she turned away from him to nestle against his body, spooning.
"You don't mind, do you?" he whispered into her hair when all was quiet. "It feels good to be close to you."
"I don't mind, as long as you're okay with the fact that, should the wrong person come barreling through my front door, we're both toast."
"I can live with it," he said on a yawn. "Goodnight, Parker."
"Goodnight, Jarod," she whispered back, smiling contentedly as she closed her eyes.
He was dead to the world within a few short minutes. Parker lay awake in his arms, recalling the events of the evening as she enjoyed the sound of his deep, rhythmic breathing, the feel of his warm breath in her hair, the sensation of his heart beating against her back, and being surrounded by his scent, which evoked a delicious combination of masculinity and sweetness. She felt a lazy, distant rumble of desire, confirming what had been silently acknowledged between them as they curled up together on the couch. Jarod would probably never occupy her guest bedroom because someday, very soon, he would be invited into her sanctum sanctorum… her bedroom.
She sighed and snuggled deeper into his strong, warm body. Replaying an earlier conversation, her eyes snapped open when it suddenly occurred to her that she would be a likely member of any team sent to interrogate Zoe. As she watched the faint pink of first light insinuate itself into the house through tiny gaps in the drawn blinds and curtains, she wondered if the seemingly hapless woman was slick enough to realize that a few well-placed words could send Parker on a one-way passage to Renewal Wing… or worse. More to the point, was Zoe vindictive enough?
# # # #
More to come… if you ask nicely! By the way, did anyone get the inside joke contained here? If you do then you have my deepest sympathy. It really is "make your eyes bleed" bad but I know why you sat through it!
The Friendship Cycle Three: His Girl Friday
By Ginger
"Jesus, Jarod!"
Her knees may have been shaking but Parker's hands were steady as she clicked on the safety of her 9mm. It was 1:00 a.m. and she hadn't been expecting him. She hadn't been expecting anyone, which is why she'd crept downstairs with her gun drawn and flicked on the light to find Jarod sitting on her couch. He didn't turn to her or say a word; his only response was a heavy sigh. Shaking her head and glancing heavenward, Parker moved around the couch and set her gun on the mantle of the fireplace before turning her attention to him.
"Jesus, Jarod."
He looked terrible. He had a couple days worth of razor stubble which was not in itself a bad thing, she noted before quickly banishing the thought from her mind. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked pale. Clearly he hadn't slept in a while. A sudden chill went up her spine and she gently took a seat beside him before inquiring,
"What's wrong? Has something happened? Your family…" She paused and swallowed hard. "Ethan?"
"Fine," he replied in a low voice, barely above a whisper. "They're all fine." He turned and looked into her eyes. "I just needed to see you. It's been a…" He shook his head and glanced away before muttering, "…rough week."
Parker studied him a moment then it dawned on her. There was an all too familiar flutter in her stomach, followed immediately by a twinge of guilt, and she asked, "You did it, didn't you?"
He looked into her eyes again and nodded slowly. "It was horrible. She just kept crying and crying and repeating 'I knew it!' over and over again. I don't think I've ever seen anyone cry so hard. She was choking and hiccupping; she could barely breathe. When she finally calmed down, she told me that she loved me; that she fell in love with me the moment she saw me. Do you think that's true? Is that even possible? Can one person look at another and fall instantly in love?"
"I… I don't know, Jarod," she stammered in response, unable to decide what was more ludicrous, the question itself or the fact that it was being asked of her. "I'm hardly the world's leading expert on affairs of the heart."
Smiling sadly, his eyes traveled to where her hand rested on the seat between them. He gently took it in his and, brushing his thumb across her knuckles, offered, "I'm sorry, it was wrong of me to ask you, particularly …" He paused and expelled a heavy breath then lifted her hand and pressed it to his forehead. Rubbing his forehead tenderly against the back of her hand, he whispered, "…under the circumstances."
The butterflies returned, as did the twinge of guilt, which this time was more like a tidal wave. Parker cleared her throat, signaling that she wanted her hand back, and Jarod complied. Eager to change the subject, such as it was, she inquired tentatively,
"So… now what? Has she… is she going… home?"
"Actually," he began, the tiniest wry smile gracing his lips. "That's my 'legitimate' reason for being here." His expression darkened and he continued, "Zoe's safety is of paramount concern to me. If anything were to happen to her because of her association with me, I wouldn't be able to live with myself."
Parker nodded, musing that it was bad enough to be dumped by one's boyfriend. Winding up locked away in Renewal Wing afterwards would definitely be adding insult to injury.
"What will happen?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.
"I don't think we've anything to worry about. They're watching her house, of course. Hell, they're still watching Nia Perdon's house and that was years a…" Noting his look of shocked amusement she cleared her throat and continued, "Did you know that she was married in May of '99 and has an eleven month old daughter? It's actually Nia Stewart now."
Raising an eyebrow and smirking, he replied, "I know. I haven't seen her… since. But I've kept tabs myself to make sure she was okay, although I do believe that any real danger was over the moment you climbed back into the black sedan."
There was a pregnant pause as each stared knowingly into the other's eyes until Parker broke the silence. "As I said, they're watching her house and her family, waiting for her to rematerialize. They'll send a team to interrogate her, of course. If she appears genuinely hostile toward you, which is what they'd expect under the circumstances…"
"No problem there," Jarod interjected with a frown.
She sighed and continued, "They'll grill her for information about your activities and whereabouts over the last year. Of course, your family will have to move immediately from, and never return to, any location known to Zoe."
"I know," he replied with another frown. "And I've already discussed it with them. They're all disappointed because they really love it up there in…"
"Don't tell me, Jarod. I don't want to know anything about your family's whereabouts. Just because I'd never willingly reveal that information doesn't mean my 'employer' doesn't have 'alternative' modes of access to it."
His frown evolved into a look of profound anxiety. He squeezed her hand and sighed, "I'm so tired of living like this."
"I know."
"It was absurd of me to think I could have a 'normal' relationship with someone else. Now that it's ended, the bizarre circumstances of my life just make it so much worse."
"I know," Parker repeated, trying to ignore the unreasoning delight she felt in his use of the word "else."
"I really made a mess of things… for Zoe… and my family. It was unfair of me to…"
"You deserve a life, Jarod," she counseled softly. "And please try not to worry too much about this. When they're convinced it's really over between you, they'll continue to watch her but I'm pretty sure they'll leave it at that. The thing about them is that they strive to stay under the radar. If they went around guns blazing, picking off 'civilians,' they'd tend to draw unwanted attention. As it is, last year I made it clear to Daddy that the stunt Lyle pulled was 'unhelpful' at best. Ultimately, the moron didn't accomplish anything so he didn't score any points, which is all that matters to him in the long run. Just to be on the safe side, I'll keep an eye on things. Besides, Angelo's got our backs; he'll let me know if anything is amiss. I promise. You can trust me."
He smiled and she could feel the warmth emanating from him as he said, "I know I can. Thank you, Parker."
"You're welcome, Jarod." She returned his smile and there was, again, silence as each contemplated the other.
After a time, Jarod inquired, "So, what do you want to do now?"
"Do?" Parker repeated incredulously. "It's 1:30 in the morning."
"And?"
"AND you should be going, don't you think? Unless you want to crash here for a couple hours; you look like you could use some sleep. If you like, I'll set my alarm and wake you before the sun comes up."
"Actually…" He began tentatively. "I was rather hoping…"
"What?"
"Since it is Friday night… well, Saturday morning…"
"WHAT?"
"I know you don't have anything planned for tomorrow."
"What," she repeated warily.
"I thought I might hang around. We could spend the day together. Obviously, we can't go out, but I happen to know that Lyle and Cox are off on a wild goose chase because I'm the one who provided the goose, so to speak. And your father's in…"
"The Cayman Islands until Tuesday."
"Well, what do you think?"
"What are we supposed to do cooped up in the house all day?" Parker blurted out before she'd taken the time to weigh the implication of question then quickly averted her eyes.
Grinning at the faint flush of her of cheeks, Jarod replied playfully, "Oh, we'll think of something," then tacked on with a shrug, "bake cookies, maybe. Speaking of which, do you have anything to eat? I'm hungry."
Sighing, Parker hauled herself up from the couch and lumbered over to the mantle to retrieve her gun then headed out of the room. Before exiting she turned and asked,
"By the way, how the hell do you waltz in and out of here undetected?"
Digging into his pocket, Jarod produced and held up a key.
"What's that?"
"A key to your patio door."
"I don't even think I have a key to my patio door."
"I can have one made for you if you like," he offered cheekily.
"Asshole," she retorted with a smile, adding, "Just out of curiosity, how many times have you been in here since your escape?"
With a smirk, he replied, "I'll be happy to answer that question but, if it's all the same to you, I'd rather wait until you're NOT holding your gun."
"Asshole," she repeated then turned around again. She headed up the hallway then stopped dead in her tracks and muttered,
"Bake cookies?"
* * * *
"Mmmm..." Jarod hummed as he chewed. "Who knew Miss Parker could cook," he mumbled through a mouthful.
"You don't get out much, do you? It's a roast beef sandwich, Jarod, not filet mignon."
"Still..." he began, took a sip from his tall glass of water, and continued, "It's very good."
"Thanks," she replied distractedly as she watched him devour the humble meal she'd prepared for him. She detected the same contentment that had been there in Florida and thought it ridiculous that all she'd had to do was stop being cruel to him and, as far as he was concerned, the slate was wiped clean. Meanwhile, he'd just dumped a woman who had never been cruel to him, one who had cared for him from the moment she'd laid eyes on him. Parker could believe that Zoe had felt love at first sight; she could believe it because she remembered the first time she had met Jarod, when they were kids, and how she had wished on the spot that she could make him her very own, whatever that meant to a ten year old girl. She had wished the same thing about the rabbits they'd played with, so who knows. Now he was in her home in the middle of the night, delighting in her company and a stupid roast beef sandwich, and all because she had simply stopped trying to deprive him of his basic human rights.
"I need a drink," she announced. "Want one?" He shook his head in response as he grabbed the second sandwich she'd prepared.
She heard the television come on as she padded over to the liquor cabinet and glanced over her shoulder to see Jarod flipping channels with one hand as he attacked his second roast beef sandwich with the other. She smiled and shook her head as she poured herself a glass of Glenlivet then returned to the spot next to him as Jarod continued to channel surf.
"For crying out loud, PICK SOMETHING ALREADY!" she barked after about five minutes, noting to herself that she had demonstrated more patience than she'd have previously thought possible. Nevertheless, his surfing continued unabated.
"That's it!" she bellowed after a couple more minutes. "Give me that!"
She lunged for the remote. Popping the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth, Jarod took evasive action and held it at arm's length so that Parker was forced to reach across him to go after it. It was only when she found herself straddling his lap and could feel the silk of her top sliding across the cotton of his that she realized what he was doing.
"Why you sneaky little bastard," she warned through clenched teeth, although her eyes told a different story.
"Here," he said with a devilish smile, handing her the remote. "By the way, blue is definitely your color."
Parker glanced down to find that she was indeed wearing blue, royal blue... pajamas. Glancing up to meet his eyes again, she raised her chin defiantly, narrowed her eyes and replied, "Thank you," before climbing off his lap and settling next to him. Feeling his arm go around her immediately, she smiled as she took her turn flipping channels.
* * * *
"Oh, God," Jarod groaned, "Did he just say 'the animal in me?' In my experience – which I realize is somewhat limited relative to my age – men do not speak in clichés, not even when in the company of an attractive woman. Do you think they might have been going for irony?"
Chuckling, Parker replied, "I don't think so. This movie is really THAT bad."
"So why are we watching it?"
"Because sometimes there is nothing more satisfying than watching a cheesy horror flick and talking back to the screen, that's why. Oh and there's the guy; he's a hottie."
"A hottie?"
"A hottie. A biscuit. A fine piece of a…"
"I get it. He's a little on the hairy side."
"Poor boy… another 80s fashion victim. He's definitely made a bad hairstyle decision and that facial hair is unfortunate too," she observed, adding with a smirk and a sideward glance, "but he isn't the only man in recorded history to suffer such a fate. He more than makes up for it with that body, though. Bless your little heart, honey," she tacked on playfully, addressing the television screen.
Jarod leaned in to speak softly into her ear, "I notice our 'hero' has dark hair and eyes. May I read that as evidence of a certain partiality on your part to dark hair and eyes?"
"Oops! Oh well, we can turn it now," was Parker's response as, grinning mischievously, she leaned forward to grab the remote.
"But it isn't over yet," Jarod protested.
"The hottie has just been turned into a werewolf. More hair, less bod; there's no point in watching any further. Besides, I'd be willing to bet my gun that it doesn't get any BETTER."
"Now there's something I completely underestimated," Jarod observed thoughtfully.
"What?" Parker asked distractedly as she scanned the channels, trying to discern what they all were. It had been ages since she'd turned on the television.
"How truly weird you are."
"Ha, that's rich coming from you, Pez Head. Ah, finally! And it's just started too."
"What is it?"
"'His Girl Friday'"
"His girl what?"
"'Friday.' Ever seen it?"
"Nope."
"It's a classic; Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell."
"So, the beautiful brunette that just strolled in is named Friday?"
"No, you idiot, a 'girl Friday' is, well, it's an antiquated term, casualty of feminism I think, that means a woman a man can always depend on."
"Well, I like the brunette, whatever her name is. She's got a sharp tongue."
"So," Parker purred. "May I read that as evidence of a certain partiality on your part to brunettes with sharp tongues?"
"It would appear so," Jarod replied with a sigh as he tightened his arm around her, pulling her closer.
* * * *
Parker awoke with a jolt to find that she and Jarod had both fallen asleep sitting up on her couch. Rubbing her neck, she picked up the remote and switched off the television then elbowed him gently in the ribs.
"Jarod, wake up."
"Hmrmrm"
"C'mon, wake up. I'll make up the guest bedroom for you. You'll be more comfortable there." She started to get up only to find herself being pulled down again.
"I'm fine right here," he mumbled as he began to maneuver them into a horizontal position on the, thankfully oversized, sofa.
"This is a four-thousand-dollar piece of furniture, Jarod. At least take your shoes off," she advised with a sigh as she reached up to pull down the light cotton blanket draped over the back of the couch. He complied, kicking off his shoes as she covered them both with the blanket. Then she turned away from him to nestle against his body, spooning.
"You don't mind, do you?" he whispered into her hair when all was quiet. "It feels good to be close to you."
"I don't mind, as long as you're okay with the fact that, should the wrong person come barreling through my front door, we're both toast."
"I can live with it," he said on a yawn. "Goodnight, Parker."
"Goodnight, Jarod," she whispered back, smiling contentedly as she closed her eyes.
He was dead to the world within a few short minutes. Parker lay awake in his arms, recalling the events of the evening as she enjoyed the sound of his deep, rhythmic breathing, the feel of his warm breath in her hair, the sensation of his heart beating against her back, and being surrounded by his scent, which evoked a delicious combination of masculinity and sweetness. She felt a lazy, distant rumble of desire, confirming what had been silently acknowledged between them as they curled up together on the couch. Jarod would probably never occupy her guest bedroom because someday, very soon, he would be invited into her sanctum sanctorum… her bedroom.
She sighed and snuggled deeper into his strong, warm body. Replaying an earlier conversation, her eyes snapped open when it suddenly occurred to her that she would be a likely member of any team sent to interrogate Zoe. As she watched the faint pink of first light insinuate itself into the house through tiny gaps in the drawn blinds and curtains, she wondered if the seemingly hapless woman was slick enough to realize that a few well-placed words could send Parker on a one-way passage to Renewal Wing… or worse. More to the point, was Zoe vindictive enough?
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More to come… if you ask nicely! By the way, did anyone get the inside joke contained here? If you do then you have my deepest sympathy. It really is "make your eyes bleed" bad but I know why you sat through it!