This is the Way the World Ends
By Bethe
~*~
Part Ten
~*~
Broots sat in front of his computer, his fingers flying over the keys as always. Occasionally, he would break his cadence to pop another potato chip in his mouth. It was the same routine he performed everyday. Look for leads, eat potato chips, look for leads, drink coffee, look for leads, go home. But today, something broke that routine; a sound that seemed slightly off.
His jaw slowed its chewing as he listened intently. After hearing nothing, he simply shrugged and continued with his typing. He only slowed once more when he noticed that Sydney and Lyle's incessant bickering had become non-existent, and both men had focused their attention to the door. It was then that Broots heard it.
Heels clicking on marble.
Both heavy glass doors were shoved open before the person occupying those heels entered the room, exuding authority.
"Relax your prostates, boys," Miss Parker quipped, employing the familiar tagline. She flashed a brilliant smile at their puzzled expressions. Her smile turned almost predatory as she moved forward and placed her hand on top of Broots' head. "What's the matter?" she asked, her face pulling into a false pout. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Broots stammered while she chuckled and walked away from him towards the middle of the room. He knew that his jaw had to be touching the floor by now. "Mi-Mi-Miss Parker? But I thought you were--"
"Dead?" she interrupted sharply, then looked him in the eyes. "Silly rabbit. You can't keep a good woman down. For long," she added coldly. She then turned to the other two men. "And what are you looking at? Let's get to work." After a momentary silence, she snapped her fingers and ordered, "Now!"
Broots jumped, stumbled out of his chair, and followed her out of the room. Sydney soon followed suit. Lyle remained in his seat, a ghost of a smile fading from his lips.
~*~
They should have all known it wouldn't have escaped his notice. The trademark noise of wheels that sounded like they hadn't been oiled since Nixon's term preceded him. It still sent a shiver down Broots' spine, however, it wasn't as horrible as he expected.
"Well, Miss Parker, I see you've decided to rejoin us after your two year furlough," Raines said as he entered. Parker, who was looking over Broots' shoulder, straightened up, turned to him, and quirked an eyebrow.
"If you want to put it that way," she murmured coolly. "But yes, I am back, so I'd appreciate it if your little lapdog found a new team to work with."
Raines stepped up toe-to-toe with her and whispered, "You do not give the orders around here. You'd do best to remember who is in charge. Mr. Parker died, and I still live."
"Some people are alive only because it's illegal to shoot them," she whispered back, not losing her resolve. "You'd do best to remember that."
Raines blinked once, and only once. Then he backed away. He straightened his tie and said louder, "The rules have changed, Miss Parker. You have one week to find Jarod, and bring him in. Successfully. If he gets away, the consequences will be the same as if you never caught him. Happy hunting," he sneered before walking out of the room, with Willie and Sam following. Sam lingered, however, and allowed Miss Parker a brief smile of respect before falling into position.
Once it was just the three of them again, Parker cleared her throat. "Hear that, boys? We have one week. Let's do it right," she ordered. Then she turned to Broots and said, "Keep searching. He's out there somewhere." While she said this, she slipped a small piece of paper next to the mouse of his computer. Then she left the room, presumably to go to her office. As Broots read the note, his eyes widened almost imperceptibly. Then he crumpled it in his hand and continued business as usual.
~*~
Dusk had fallen and the stars were coming out to rest in their nightly positions when the balding man nervously approached the looming house. He gulped loudly and pushed the doorbell. Almost immediately, a man Broots did not recognize answered the door.
"You must be Broots. C'mon in, B-man. They're about ready to start."
Broots followed the odd man into the cavernous forbidden zone of Miss Parker's house. He was shown a seat upon entering the den and was then left alone. After five minutes, he was beginning to wonder why he had been brought there. Then a glass of water appeared in front of his face.
"Here," a soft, yet familiar voice murmured. He turned to see who the hand was attached to, and saw Miss Parker. He accepted the glass silently and watched as she went around in front of him and sat down across from him. She was wearing a worn pair of jeans and a large View-Askew hockey jersey tee. Her hair was pulled loosely away from her face. Her demeanor was much different than that of a few hours ago. Here, she seemed softer, happier.
"Hi, Broots," she murmured warmly, giving him a genuine smile.
"Miss Parker, I-I don't understand. What's going on?" He would have asked more, but he was stopped by a wave of her hand.
"Maybe I should explain," a deep voice said as a figure emerged from the shadows from behind Miss Parker. Broots sat up straighter and set his drink aside.
"Jarod?"
The man simply smiled as he moved forward and placed his hands on Parker's shoulders. It was then that Broots noticed the rings on their left hands.
"Miss Parker? Jarod? You're. . .you're. . .?" He wasn't able to finish. He just swallowed loudly. "That wasn't there today," he finally blurted out, pointing at what was obviously a wedding ring.
Parker looked down at it, letting her gaze linger for just a moment, then looked up and said, "No. It couldn't have been, Broots. Do you understand why?"
"I-I think you've got some explaining to do," he said in a rare display of boldness, "Both of you."
Jarod and Parker looked at each other and laughed easily. Then they began to explain what had happened over the past two years; more importantly, the past month or so.
He took it pretty well.
"There is no way that Lyle is a good guy!" he let out upon receiving the news concerning Miss Parker's twin.
"The walls have ears, you know," came a voice that he knew well, with the addition of a slight southern lilt. He swallowed loudly once more as none other than Lyle sat down beside him and put his arm around the nervous man. "Hey Broots, old buddy, howya been?" he asked pleasantly with a smile to match.
"Oh, man," Broots whispered, feeling sick to his stomach, "this is like the nightmare that wouldn't end!" He looked at the three of them, and then to any possible entryways. "Now you're gonna tell me that there is no man behind the curtain," he murmured to himself.
"Relax, man," Lyle offered while sending a light slap to Broots' back. "This isn't nightmare, it's reality. But it could become worse than a bad dream if this goes all wrong."
"We'll need your help," Jarod interjected, "if we're going to pull this off correctly."
"There's a DSA that we need in order to take down the Centre," Parker said.
"And I'm going to find it?" Broots asked, looking like he had just bitten off more than he could chew.
"And now we have a time limit: one week," Parker reminded him. "So you have to be on your best game. You can do it. I know you can." She smiled warmly at him, but then her face contorted into a grimace. She sat forward and placed her hand on her stomach.
"Mel, what's wrong?" Jarod asked, moving in front of her.
She waved him away, swallowing hard and then attempting to smile again. "Just nausea. That's all." She rubbed her stomach a little harder, closed her eyes, and shook her head. Then she opened her eyes again and smiled genuinely.
Broots looked at all three again, and then shrugged. "If I get an ulcer, I'll know who to blame," he muttered while standing up and heading for the door.
"Broots?" Parker called. She waited for him to turn around before smiling. "Thanks for helping."
If one listened closely, Broots could be heard muttering on his way out, "Now I know this is a dream. She's thanking me."