SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1The Saddest Little Valentine

Summary: The biggest game of cat and mouse just got bigger. The stakes are higher - lives are on the line this time around, and someone else is after Jarod... or so it seems. Who are they, and can they be worse than the Centre?

Rating: PG13

Chronology: Post-IotH.

Genre: Suspense/Mystery/Angst... and a little bit of romance, though short lived.

Disclaimer: Are you the author? I am today. Except I'm only pretending...

Notes: None today...

Chapter V - Roles Reversed

It began in the spring. It ended with the spring and therefore it could only have begun with the spring. For the spring rain brought showers of memories through raindrops of the past, and the past was as hard to escape as it was to escape the rain. You didn't have to get wet to remember.

For the years that preceded her mother's death and, ultimately, her undoing, she was a free spirited child; her mind filled with pictures of candy and ponies and dresses, and her heart without a care in the world. Soaring through creations of the mind that others only ever visited in their dreams. Unfortunate it was, that her world was about to change, and those magical mysteries destroyed. Forever.

          - Jarod Heart, The Saddest Little Valentine, chapter five.

It was around nine thirty.

On this particular February evening, things appeared to be, for the most part, normal. Blue Cove was experiencing slightly windy weather, which was to be expected for the time of year. Miss Parker was relaxing on a chaise lounge with a cigarette and a drink, thinking it strange that, so far, there had been no late night phone call from a certain Pretender.

Then again, the night was still young.

She had a slight headache, though whether it was the scotch or the heavy thinking she had been doing recently she did not know. They were not uncommon. On the contrary, she had grown quite accustomed to them. Most of the offending head-throbbing could be traced back to Jarod, of course. Everything was his fault. He always had something to do with everything, so it had to be his doing.

He was inescapable. He plagued her thoughts during the day, sneakily followed her home in the evening and occasionally had the cheek to invade her dreams - the one place she had thought she could distance herself from him and his annoying, yet sometimes amusingly boyish, nature.

Pulling her robe tighter around her, she strode out into the kitchen. An object, strategically placed on the bench top, caught her eye.

He had been there recently. She had sensed it the moment she had returned home but had chosen to ignore it. Now, the room screamed his name; taunting her, teasing her with the knowledge he had been so close without her being aware of it. It sufficiently aggravated her to the point where she had to leave the room.

She took the porcelain angel that had been so carefully placed in her line of view with her.

The angel, she knew, held some significance, and this wasn't just because Jarod continued to draw her attention to it. The porcelain figure was familiar to her, like an old friend she had not seen for many years. It was somehow important; she just needed to figure out in what way.

It appeared to be of some emotional value. Jarod seemed to know it, too - why else would he keep bringing it up? He obviously had some ulterior motive in getting her to remember what exactly the angel was.

Upon inspecting the doll closer, she realised that it had not always been an angel. The wings on its back had been attached at a later date. Sewn on, using a blue thread that was a dark contrast against the gold fabric...

'What have you got there, Jarod?' inquired a young girl, sitting down beside the boy she was speaking to.

'A doll. It was in with some old toys Sydney had, and I fixed it,' he replied. 'I... I thought you might like to have it, Miss Parker.'

'Are you sewing those wings on it?' she asked curiously, her eyes lighting up.

'Yes. So it can be an angel.'

She let out a shaky breath as the day came flooding back to her. It was all so very clear now. For as innocently as the day may have began, things had soon changed.

April thirteenth, 1970.

The day her mother had supposedly died in an elevator.

'Hell, Jarod,' she spat, discarding the angel. She didn't need a reminder of what had happened that day.

'Mommy! Stop it! Let me go! I want to see my mommy!'

The young girl kicked the men, determined not to be restrained. But no matter how she shrieked and struggled, the strong arms kept holding her back.

A tear ran down her cheek, but she didn't notice it.

'I want to see my mommy,' she whispered aloud, letting her eyes fall closed.

As if in reply, her phone decided to ring. Drawing in a deep, quivering breath, she picked it up.

'What?'

'You sound upset,' Jarod's voice commented.

'I got it. I got your stupid message, Jarod,' she replied bitterly. 'You gave the doll to me. The day my mother... the day I thought she died.'

'So you hadn't forgotten.'

'There's a lot about that day that I could never remember.'

'Couldn't, or didn't want to?'

She didn't reply, so he went on.

'Despite what you may think, I didn't stir up old demons to torment you,' he said, his voice gentler. 'Actually, I sent you the angel for an entirely different reason. I thought it might help you in your search for answers.'

'But you're not going to tell me how. Where's the fun in that, right?' she asked dryly.

'You know me too well, Miss Parker,' he said with obvious amusement.

'Tell me, Jarod. Just how long did you know I had a sister?'

The seemingly offhand question threw Jarod momentarily. He, for once, didn't know what to say.

'What?' he asked, not-so-intelligently.

'Cut the crap,' she said, standing so she could vent her building fury by walking. 'Kiya Parker? My sister?'

She artfully avoided mentioning Parallax on the off-chance that he didn't already know about it. As sure as she was that he was well aware of the Pretender that was hot on his heels, there was the possibility that he didn't. If this were the case, and she mentioned it to him, it would be very easy for those higher up at the Centre to realise it had been her that jeopardized their plan, thus putting her in an awkward position.

On the other end of the line, Jarod knew exactly what she was trying to do. He was being equally careful not to hint in any way that he knew Kiya, for both their safety's sake. The fact that Miss Parker was under the impression that she and Kiya were sisters was new to him, however.

'Sister?' he echoed, surprised.

'Like you don't know,' was the cold reply.

'Miss Parker, I had no access to those files. They're kept on hand at the Centre, and there was no online versions. The only copies of them that I know of are the ones you have. I've never seen them.'

'Then why did you want me to look them up?' she challenged icily.

Feeling very much like he had just dug himself into a hole, Jarod did some quick thinking.

'I was interested as to why those files were connected to Rosie Jamison,' he told her smoothly, which wasn't a lie, but a selective version of the truth.

Parker accepted this; if she had detected any hesitation in his voice she did not show it.

'So,' she said, her voice returning to its cool tone. 'Not one new addition to the family tree, but two.'

'Do you have any idea where she is?' he asked.

'No,' she replied slowly. 'I was hoping you would.'

'I'm afraid I can't help you with that, Miss Parker.'

She paused before continuing; Jarod could practically see her, pressing her cigarette into an ashtray. What he envisioned wasn't too far from reality.

'Have you gotten any closer to finding your mother?' she asked, her tone evening somewhat.

'No,' he replied, smiling. A little over a year ago, he never would have dreamed of her asking that question. She was mellowing.

'I guess you could say I've gotten sidetracked,' he admitted. 'But I'm not giving up.'

'If you gave up, where would we be?' she asked with a sigh. 'Your annoying perseverance happens to be the basis of my job.'

'It's the career I would have chosen, too,' he said sarcastically.

It was slightly odd to hear Jarod adopt such a tone.

'Sarcasm isn't becoming on you, wonder boy,' she mused.

'I'm glad to hear you're taking a sudden interest.'

She was smiling, despite herself.

'Planning on being careless anytime soon? I think I'm beginning to forget what you look like,' she commented wryly.

'Oh, you know. Bald, green eyes. Excessively prominent stomach.'

'Ah, yes. I remember,' she replied, lips curling a little more.

'But I must say, Miss Parker, you had your chance a few weeks ago. I even gave you an address. What more could you wish for?'

'If the wishing theory worked then I'd skip that stage and just request that your sorry ass be dragged back to Blue Cove. It would save me a hell of a lot of trouble.'

'But where's the fun in all that? If I were you, I'd want the glory of dragging said, and I quote, "sorry ass", into the Centre.'

'I never said I'd wish you into the Centre. I'd wish you right into my custody, then I'd have the glory of dragging you in. Maybe I'd even get a promotion,' she said, and he could imagine the smirk on her face.

It was strange, how easily this playful exchange was coming to her. She wasn't being cold, or even indifferent; her jabs were jocular and she was being surprisingly well tempered. Then again, she realised, the normality of their conversations had been growing since their return from Carthis.

Like Sydney had said, something had changed.

'Maybe,' he answered. 'I guess we never really know what could happen.'

A beep signified the end of the call and she lowered the receiver, trying to dislodge the smile that had crept onto her face.

'And I guess you're right, Jarod,' she sighed. 'We never really know.'

'I think,' Kiya said slyly, leaning over the back of the couch, 'that you just had to worm your way out of a tricky situation.'

'What gave you that idea?' Jarod asked lazily, putting down the phone.

'Well, first, you obviously did something to piss her off,' she replied.

'Surprising,' he muttered.

'Secondly, I saw that smooth talking. You were doing some quick thinking there, which means you slipped up. But I see you both need to work on your greetings. Most people generally say "hello" when instigating a conversation. "Goodbye", or "goodnight" is considered polite when terminating one, too. Then again, I suppose this thing you two have can hardly be classified as your average relationship.'

'No,' he concurred. 'I believe we've written rules of our own.'

Jarod stood and walked over to his desk, picking up a Pez dispenser and popping a piece of candy into his mouth. Kiya watched with amusement.

'But while we're on the topic of Miss Parker,' he began, leaning against the desk and looking over at her, 'I have some most interesting news.'

'Oh?' she queried, raising a brow with mild interest.

'But I'm not quite sure how you're going to take it. It's probably best you stay seated.'

'Try me.'

He sighed.

'Miss Parker got a hold of those surrogacy papers. She's read them, and has reached the conclusion that she has a sister.'

Kiya remained silent for a good minute before speaking.

'So the papers say my mother was a surrogate? For her parents?'

'Yes,' he replied.

'Interesting,' she said calmly. 'My mother was actually my aunt.'

Jarod watched her, slightly wary of her reaction. She seemed to notice, because she opened her mouth to explain.

'I know what you're thinking,' she sighed. 'But I think I've become immune to all this secrecy surrounding my existence. Nothing's all that surprising any more.'

'I know what you mean. It does get to the point where you think you're prepared for anything they throw at you.'

'Does she know much about me?' Kiya asked, removing the elastic from her hair and allowing it to cascade down over her shoulders.

'I'm not quite sure,' Jarod replied. 'I had to be careful what I said, for obvious reasons.'

Kiya nodded.

'So,' she mused, leaning back against the couch. 'I have a sister. Who works for the Centre. Lovely.'

'Miss Parker seemed to have a similar attitude,' he said. 'But she didn't abuse me for it for quite as long as I was expecting.'

Kiya walked over and picked up the Pez dispenser, taking a piece for herself. She sucked on it thoughtfully for a moment.

'Where does this put me on the family tree? Any other relatives I should know about?'

'Well, this would mean that Ethan is your brother.'

'Which would explain the I-feel-like-I-know-you-from-somewhere sensation,' she said, nodding.

'Somewhere, you've also got another brother. Then again,' he added, frowning, 'I don't quite know how that one works. So maybe not biologically, but in essence.'

'I almost understood that. Name?'

'From what I know, he doesn't have one. He's currently about two years old and is a prisoner of the Centre. The minute someone slips up, I can assure you your sister will be in there trying to get him out. With which I'm sure she'll succeed, taking her incredible persistence into consideration,' he continued, smiling. It faded a little when he remembered the person he had failed to mention.

'How could I forget?' he asked himself with contempt. 'You also now share the wonderful Mr Lyle with Miss Parker as your brother. Lucky you.'

'Is that sarcasm I sense in that statement?' Kiya teased. 'I guess when I wished for a family, it was granted to the extreme.'

'It's interesting clan, I'll give you that,' Jarod replied.

'Then I suppose I'll fit right in,' she smirked. 'Hakuna Matata.'

'Ha... kuna... Ma-ta-ta?' Jarod queried, confused.

'You've obviously never seen the Lion King,' she smiled. 'Next time we're in the vicinity of a video store, remind me.'

Miss Parker was sitting idly at her desk. No leads on Jarod meant she had a lot of time on her hands, something she was not used to. Once upon a time she would have welcomed it with open arms, but now she wasn't so sure.

She let out a sigh. She was fighting a losing battle against her subconscious, which was gleefully encouraging her to light up one of the cigarettes lying on her desk. In the end she gave in and picked one up. She never got a chance to light it, however, because it was at that exact moment that Sydney and Broots decided to enter her office, successfully turning her thoughts elsewhere.

'Good morning, Parker,' Sydney said.

'Sid,' she sighed in return, dropping the cigarette. 'Have you two got me anything?'

'Actually, yes,' Broots answered. 'Probably not exactly what you were after, but I think you'll find it interesting -'

'Get to the point.'

'It's about Mr Lyle,' he said.

'What about him?' she asked with distaste, looking contemptuous at the mere mention of her twin's name.

'It appears that Lyle is temporarily distracted from his pursuit of Jarod and Ethan,' Sydney explained.

'Now isn't this just a chance to crack out the champagne?' she said wryly.

'At another's expense,' Sydney said with a sigh.

'Why? What sick experiment has tickled his fancy this time?'

'Lyle seems to have developed somewhat of an infatuation with a waitress from a local Thai restaurant.'

'I see,' she replied, torn between amusement at the prospect of her little brother being in love and nausea at what gruesome fate possibly awaited the object of his affections.

'The strange thing is,' Broots continued, 'he seems to be for real. You should see him, Miss Parker! I've never seen Mr Lyle act so strange!'

She looked to Sydney for confirmation of this.

'Broots is right, Parker. Lyle is acting very out of character. I'm beginning to wonder if perhaps he has genuine feelings for Xiu Ling.'

She made a noise that was a slightly more graceful version of a snort.

'The day that Lyle changes his wicked ways is the day I run off with our Pretender and get married in Vegas,' she said disdainfully. Noticing the uncertain look on Broots's face and the entertained expression on Sydney's, she felt it necessary to add, 'Which is a day that is not coming anytime soon.'

Sydney's obvious amusement failed to fade, and she began to regret her choice of words.

'I'd wipe that look off your face, Santa Claus, or you'll be ho-hoing your way to the Renewal Wing,' she warned with annoyance, wondering how on earth she had allowed such a trope to slide off her tongue. Despite its likelihood of happening being set at a dead zero, she could see exactly what Sydney found so entertaining and it disturbed her a little.

Sensing that a change of subject was in order, she pushed the feeling aside and turned back to the matter at hand.

'What about those SL-27 records?'

'There were none, Miss Parker,' Broots replied. 'The one that Jarod wanted was the last one from SL-27. After that date, either they've been taken, or none were made.'

'If they had been taken, wouldn't there be record of it?' she asked.

'There should be, yes. But the records have been completely cleared. Like they've started with a clean slate.'

Her eyes narrowed.

'Which would mean someone is trying to cover something up,' she said. 'Nothing new there. Still no more on Parallax?'

Broots's eyes widened slightly at this question.

'Not any of the files, no. But this morning I was hunting through the Centre mainframe and... Miss Parker, I think I found the program they're using to track Kiya.'

'And?'

'From the looks of it, the last they heard, she was Brooklyn. And if she's after Jarod, that might mean that -'

'Jarod's close by,' she finished.

Wary of getting too close to Jarod until she was sure Ethan was well out of the way, Parker was hesitant in suggesting they follow the lead. She also knew, however, that failing to chase it up would create questions she didn't particularly want to answer.

Somehow, she had the feeling that Jarod had yet to leave Florida, which offered a little solace.

'Brooklyn it is then.'

'Parker, you can hardly go to Brooklyn in search of Jarod without more information. He could be anywhere, if he's even there.'

'We'll have a better chance of getting him there than if we were to stay here, and that has to be worth something,' she said, opening her drawer. 'And I want to get to Jarod before Kiya does.'

Knowing what they would be thinking without even having to see the expressions on their faces, she immediately supplied them with an explanation.

'If anyone's going to injure that runaway guinea pig, it's going to be me.'

Broots hesitated, then spoke again.

'There's something you should know about her,' he said.

'What?'

'Project Parallax had a catch. Kiya - she's not afraid of anything. She doesn't know fear. Aim a gun at her and she couldn't care less! Ask her to walk a tightrope above a pit of boiling lava and she'd do it!'

'Any of the Pretenders would,' Parker snapped.

'The difference between Kiya and Jarod seems to be that Jarod can experience fear and control it,' Sydney explained. 'Kiya was taught from a birth to never feel it to begin with. It's a dangerous combination - having a mastermind who isn't afraid of anything. She was most likely intended to be a weapon of some sort from the very beginning.'

'If she lays one finger on Jarod...'

'But Miss Parker, she's your sister!' Broots protested.

'All I care about is that they sent her after Jarod,' Parker said coldly, picking up her gun and making sure it was well loaded. 'And Frankenrat is mine.'

'Going to Brooklyn is pointless,' Sydney insisted gently. 'It would be more efficient if we stayed put a little longer and gave Broots the time to find a more exact location.'

'Fine,' she said, sliding the gun into its holster. 'Get on it, and be discreet. The last thing we need is Hannibal Lector finding out what we're up to.'

It was roughly quarter past ten in the morning when Ethan returned to Jarod's apartment after a late night outing. Jarod was sitting at his computer, something his companions were quite used to. Kiya was seated at the table and was eating her way through a bunch of grapes.

'Hello,' Ethan greeted when he stepped inside.

'Hello,' Kiya said, slipping a grape into her mouth.

She glanced over at Jarod, who seemed so caught up in what he was doing that he had failed to notice his brother's return.

'Oi, Einstein,' she called, throwing a cushion at the back of his head.

'Ow,' he protested, turning around. Frowning, he looked to Ethan. 'Hello.'

'That's better,' Kiya smirked, returning to her grapes. 'Now you just have to try that next time you talk to my sister.'

'Sister?' Ethan asked, taking off his jacket.

'Sister indeed,' Jarod concurred, leaning back in his chair. 'It appears that you are no longer Kiya's cousin, but her brother. Miss Parker found surrogacy papers.'

'You spoke to Miss Parker?'

'She was in a wonderful mood, as always,' Jarod replied. 'And relatively quick to accuse me of withholding from her the fact that she had a sister.'

Ethan glanced at Kiya.

'That would explain why we felt we knew each other,' he said, still looking slightly confused.

'I'm assuming that had something to do with your Inner Sense,' Jarod informed them, turning back to the computer screen.

'I know this is off-topic,' Kiya began, 'but hasn't it been awhile since she came looking for you?'

'That would be because of Ethan, I'm willing to wager,' he sighed. 'As determined as she is to have me back, she's quite adamant that he stays as far away from the Centre as possible.'

'What are you doing?' Ethan asked Jarod, coming up behind him.

'Trying to get into the lotteries system,' he replied. 'I need to find out the details of a recent winner.'

'Smooth, Jarod,' Kiya commented. 'When in doubt, resort to hacking.'

'Bingo,' he said, standing up.

'Well?' she demanded. 'Was I right? Who was it?'

'It wasn't Davy or Mark,' Jarod answered. 'It was Peter Chandler.'

'Someone you know?'

'Yes. Another man from the company. And I think I just figured out a whole new theory.'

'At least the lottery idea was useful,' Kiya said. 'Where are you going now?'

'To the depot.'

'Can I come?'

'No.'

'Fine. Have fun.'

Jarod sighed, opening the door.

'I will.'

Parker smiled wryly at the box on her desk. Was it really February 14th already? It seemed like only yesterday she had been drinking the old year away. She trusted Jarod had some idea of what date it was, however. Just because she had no sense of time lately didn't mean it didn't exist.

'Our Pretender isn't without good taste,' she commented, observing the expensive label.

The chocolates looked delectable, and she wasn't about to let her begrudging attitude towards Jarod allow them to go to waste.

She was in the process of picking one out when Lyle stepped into her office unannounced and looking particularly smug. Sighing, she looked up from the box.

'What?' she asked testily.

'Does a brother need a reason to visit his sister?' he asked, picking up an ornament from her desk to examine it. She snatched it off him and replaced it.

'If that brother happens to be a slimy, scheming serpent, then yes,' she said icily.

He sighed.

'And here was I thinking you were in a good mood.'

'I was, until you stepped into my office. Now what the hell do you want?'

'I came about Dad.'

She leaned back in her chair and observed him with cool disinterest for a moment. After awhile, she raised an eyebrow.

'And which one would that be?'

'The one who disappeared off the face of the earth last year and Raines keeps insisting is dead.'

'Continue.'

'Since he's been missing over a year now, the Triumvirate has officially classified him as deceased,' Lyle told her.

'And that means so much around here,' she said dryly.

Ignoring her, he continued.

'I assume you'd want to hold some type of service.'

In all truth, the thought had never occurred to her. Things regarding her father had been business as usual; she'd never considered him dead and therefore simply put him out of her mind, waiting for him to show up when she least expected.

'I'll have to get back to you on that one,' she replied, forcing a smile. She glanced back to the box in front of her and decided that a round, patterned chocolate looked particularly delicious.

'You're trying to tell me someone asked you to be their Valentine?' Lyle smirked, noticing.

She popped the chocolate into her mouth.

'One of Jarod's better gifts,' she explained. 'Can I interest you in one?'

'I'll be fine, thanks.'

'That's right,' she grinned at him. 'We wouldn't want you to ruin your appetite for your date with Xiu Ling now, would we?'

There was an underlying meaning to her words, but either he did not pick up on it or chose to ignore it.

Unable to resist, she turned serious.

'Stay focused on the task at hand. Jarod is the most important thing, and you can't afford to have any distractions,' she warned, quoting the words he had spoken to her about Tommy as best she could.

'I happen to know exactly what my priorities are,' he returned. 'You, on the other hand, still don't seem to be getting very far with Jarod.'

'I haven't seen you bring him in,' she commented coolly.

Lyle, obviously sensing that continuing the exchange was probably not in his best interests, dropped it and raised his hands in surrender.

'Just make sure you know what you're doing before you start meddling in matters that don't concern you.'

'I know exactly what I'm doing. Now run along; we can't have you late for your Valentines rendezvous,' she smirked.

'I'll make sure I enjoy the meal,' he informed her sourly, exiting before she could throw more insults at him.

Things appeared to be relatively quiet at the Cab Company central station when Jarod arrived. Lucy was humming as she sat at the desk, entering something into the computer. She looked up when she noticed him, appearing slightly surprised.

'Jarod. You're not meant to be working today,' she frowned.

'I know. I came to ask you a question.'

'Oh?'

'On the day... on the day of Davy's accident. Had there been any changes to the shifts?'

The blonde paused for a moment.

'Actually, there was,' Lucy replied. 'I remember. Davy and Peter had asked to swap shifts for one reason or another. But their plans must have changed, because they ended up doing their original shifts anyway. Why? Is there a problem?'

'No,' he answered. 'Everything's just fine. Thank you.'

He stepped back outside, no doubt leaving a very confused Lucy behind. Going back to his car, he pulled out his red note book and scanned over the table he had copied down.

There had been two off-duty drivers at the time around Davy's accident had occurred. Both of which were most likely in the staff room at the time, waiting for their shifts to begin. He

class=Section2

was in the middle of contemplating what reason someone would have to kill a person that had just won the lottery when Lucy came up to his car.

Jarod didn't know much about Lucy, other than she was in her mid twenties and that her brother, Randy, also worked for the company. He knew even less about Randy; he had only ever met him once during the past weeks and had decided that he was a rough, surly character that looked more like a truck driver than a cabby.

'Jarod,' she said, her voice slightly hushed as she glanced around. 'When you asked before, it was about Davy, wasn't it? You're trying to find out what happened?'

He studied the anxious look on her face for a moment.

'Yes,' he said eventually. 'I am.'

'I know what happened. I put the drug into his coffee, Jarod. It was me.'

'What?' he asked. 'Why?'

'It was Randy. He told me to do it. He threatened my daughter,' Lucy said, extremely torn.

'It's OK,' he assured her. 'Lucy, you have to tell me what happened.'

'The coffee was meant for Peter, but I didn't know. Randy just told me to make sure it was there for the nine thirty shift. He must not have realised Davy and Peter had changed back. He gave me the liquid he wanted me to put in it. I didn't get it all, but later he explained that I wouldn't be implicated, because it would...'

'Show up as alcohol,' Jarod finished, getting out of the car. 'Why did Randy want Peter drugged?'

'Peter had a big win in the lottery recently. Randy said that Peter owed him money, but Peter argued with him, saying that he didn't owe him anything. Randy was mad. I don't know why he did it. I guess he just wanted revenge.'

By now, Lucy was in considerable distress.

'I wanted to tell someone, but my daughter... I can't go to jail, Jarod. I have my daughter to look after...'

'I'm glad you told me,' Jarod said, placing his hands on his shoulders. 'And your daughter is going to be fine. I promise you.'

'What are you going to do now?' she asked.

'Give Randy a taste of his own medicine,' he answered, a dark look sweeping across his features.

'Chocolate, Sid?' Parker offered when the older man stepped into her office.

'No, thank you,' he replied. He paused a moment, then added, 'You appear to be in a good mood. What's brought this on?'

She gave something that resembled a shrug, taking another chocolate from the box, which was nearing the half-empty mark.

'You've seemed to have worked your way through those relatively quickly,' Sydney commented, taking a seat.

'It's these or the smoke-sticks, Freud,' she answered. 'Since you opposed the field trip to Brooklyn, I have nothing better to do. Broots seems to have fallen off the planet, and up until now I hadn't been able to get a hold of you. Where did you disappear to?'

'I have been to visit Angelo,' he explained. 'I was informed that he had been behaving most peculiarly.'

'Oh?' she queried, arching an eyebrow.

'It seems that Angelo is genuinely distressed concerning your safety. His empath abilities are detecting someone with the intention to kill.'

The one time I'm in a good mood, everyone seems determined to ruin it, she thought.

'What do you suggest I do? Hide in the closet until monkey boy gives us the all clear? The most I can promise you is that I'll play it safe until we get more information. Speaking of information, do you have any idea where our resident computer geek has gotten to? I sent him off to find me something earlier and haven't seen him since.'

'I haven't seen Broots,' Sydney shrugged, 'all morning.'

'It had better be something constructive, whatever it is he's doing,' she mused good-naturedly.

'I'm interested as to what's made you so good tempered, Parker,' Sydney said, smiling. 'It's a pleasant surprise.'

'It's Valentine's Day, Sid,' she said dryly. 'What's not to be happy about?'

She had no idea why she was in such a tolerant mood. One would assume that, after an argument with Jarod and a painful recollection of a day she'd rather forget, she would be twice as testy as usual. But for some reason, she wasn't.

'Of course, I'd be a hell of a lot brighter if Lyle hadn't paid me a visit earlier,' she said nonchalantly. 'Have you heard? Daddy's been deemed officially dead.'

'And how does this make you feel?'

She sighed.

'I'm not sure. Despite all that's happened this past year, he was my father all my life. The only one that I knew. You'd think this would affect me in some way, but it doesn't. I feel nothing.'

He remained silent, allowing her to continue.

'Something tells me he's not dead,' she said, looking up. 'That he's out there somewhere... biding his time.'

'Your Inner Sense?' Sydney suggested.

'No,' she replied. 'Just a logical conclusion. No one really dies around here, do they? Apart from the ones with their hearts in the right place.'

'It's a perfectly normal reaction, Parker. You've been left without any real closure. No body, nothing. Yours is a mind that would require proof before it accepted that someone that was a part of your life for so long is truly gone.'

She barely took into consideration what Sydney had said. It seemed to her that he was suggesting she was in denial, which she refused to believe. Her father hadn't intended on dying. Why else would he have bothered with a parachute?

'I don't know, Sid. But I'm not settling for the Triumvirate's word. They have a habit for twisting the truth.'

Before they had a chance to continue the conversation, Broots came in, for which Parker was grateful. She felt somewhat awkward discussing her father's supposed demise with Sydney.

'Broots, you lovable moron,' she said, making an attempt at a smile. 'I was beginning to think one of this place's many reptilian residents had ingested you.'

The tech looked flattered.

'You were worried about me? Well, I... of course, there's no need...'

'Spare me,' she said, although still smiling. 'I never said I was concerned. Did you get me anything?'

Appearing confused at Miss Parker's uncharacteristic warmth, even if only slight, he took a moment to answer.

'I was... uh, I was asked to give you this. It just came,' he said, extending an envelope to her.

'From Jarod?' she asked, examining it.

'I'm not sure.'

She opened the envelope and pulled out its contents; a brochure for a botanical park on the outskirts of Florida.

'Jarod's getting lazy,' she remarked. 'His imagination seems to be diminishing. No cryptic clues.'

Again, her concern for Ethan made her hesitate. But Jarod was smart enough not to send her anywhere Ethan would be in danger of capture. If he wanted her to go to Florida, it was most likely he was well away by now.

'Get the jet ready,' she said, putting the box of chocolates into her drawer. 'It's time for another wild goose chase.'

Jarod slipped back into the depot, a flask in his hand.

'Listen, Lucy,' he said, leaning over the desk. 'I need to ask you a favour...'

'Kiya,' Jarod called, stepping inside of his apartment.

'Yeah?' she asked, looking up from the magazine she was reading.

'You mentioned you were good with cars.'

'Are you kidding?' she said, sitting up. 'Strange as it may seem, I'm a mechanic at heart.'

'Great,' he said, eyes narrowed conspiratorially. 'In that case, I need you to do something for me...'

Randy Katz was fifteen minutes off the end of his shift when he received a last minute customer. He was dispatched to James Street to pick up a passenger and take him to a property on the other side of town.

He was feeling tired and would have preferred to have returned home, but the option wasn't there, so he had no choice but to make his way to the street that was a block or so away.

When his passenger got into the car, he didn't pay much attention to him. He was feeling strangely dizzy and disorientated.

'Is something wrong?' the person asked.

'No,' Randy replied, still frowning. 'I'm fine.'

Jarod leaned back in his seat and checked his watch, amused that Randy hadn't recognised him. It worked fine for him, of course.

'You know, you really shouldn't be driving when drunk,' he said offhandedly.

'I'm not drunk,' Randy replied, taking a corner roughly.

'No?' Jarod frowned. 'I apologise. You just seem to be showing all the symptoms of alcohol consumption.'

'What are you on about?'

'You don't seem to be driving quite so well,' he commented.

'I'm just tired,' Randy insisted. 'This is my last job for the evening. Where did you want to go?'

'The property off Rosethorn Road,' Jarod replied.

'Right.'

By the time Randy pulled up the long, flat driveway he was having problems concentrating. His vision was beginning to swim slightly and his head was throbbing. He was determined to get the job done so he could get back to the depot and go home.

'Listen, I don't know how long this driveway goes for. I'm pretty low on fuel and I need to get back. Would you mind if I dropped you off here?'

'Not a problem,' Jarod said agreeably. 'I can walk.'

His hand had been resting on the lever that Kiya had installed for him. He flicked it over as he answered Randy's request.

'What the hell... ?' the taxi driver muttered. His efforts to stop the car were futile, but he didn't understand. Everything had been working perfectly a minute ago.

'How does it feel, Randy? Not having any control?' Jarod asked him darkly, leaning forward.

'What have you done to my car?' Randy growled.

'Now, now - there's no point in making a fuss. It will only irritate your headache. How are you coping with the fatigue, by the way?'

'You're crazy!' Randy said. 'If I can't stop the car we're going to crash!'

'How do you think Davy felt?'

'I don't know what you're talking about!' Randy insisted, still trying the brakes.

'Oh, I think you do. You threatened your sister so that she'd drug the coffee that night. You were angry and you couldn't care less what happened to Davy. The whole thing was your idea. Wasn't it?'

'I don't know what you're talking about!'

A wall was coming up ahead and Randy had no control of the taxi. All of the controls seemed to be locked up, including the steering, and his headache was getting worse.

'How am I meant to stop this thing?'

'Admit to what you did,' Jarod spat.

As the wall drew nearer, Randy panicked.

'It wasn't meant for Davy!' he said. 'It was meant for Peter, and I wasn't thinking straight at the time! I never meant for that to happen to Davy!'

'But it did,' Jarod shot back. 'You sent an innocent man to jail!'

'Things weren't meant to happen that way. I didn't know the shifts were swapped. If I could change things, I would. But I can't. I stuffed up!'

Satisfied with the cabby's answer, Jarod pushed the leaver back into its original position.

'Try your brakes now,' he said tersely.

Randy slammed his foot down and the car came to a screeching halt a few yards away from the wall.

'You're crazy,' he repeated.

Jarod responded by pulling out a recorder and rewinding it a bit. He pushed play.

'It wasn't meant for Davy! It was meant for Peter, and I wasn't thinking straight at the time! I never meant for that to happen to Davy!'

'But it did. You sent an innocent man to jail!'

'Things weren't meant to happen that way. I didn't know the shifts were swapped. If I could change things, I would. But I can't. I stuffed up!'

'Crazy? Maybe. But I know what I'm doing.'

Miss Parker was stealthily making her way through a small maze of plants, gun drawn. A noise to her right attracted her attention and she pointed the weapon in its direction, just as Broots appeared between to bushes.

'Uh, Miss Parker?'

'What?' she snapped.

'Can you, uh... point that somewhere else?'

She rolled her eyes and slipped the gun into its holster as he pushed the bushes apart and stepped out.

'Where's Sid?' she asked.

'I'm here,' Sydney answered, coming up the path behind them.

'Find anything?'

'Nothing,' he replied. 'I find it strange that Jarod has brought us here.'

She glanced around at the garden, hand on hip. While she wasn't one to find such scenery breathtaking, she could understand how its tranquility may interest people.

It was quiet.

Too quiet.

'Get down,' she commanded, dropping just as a shower of fire pelted down over their heads.

'What's going on?' Broots whispered, eyes wide as he shrank back against a hedge.

'I don't know,' she said slowly, an edge to her words.

After a few still moments, she got to her feet and pulled out her gun.

'Who's there?'

'Miss Parker -'

'Stay back,' she snapped.

She edged quietly down the path, listening intently for any noise. The hedges made it only too easy for someone to keep themselves hidden. Five minutes later she returned from her search without having found any evidence that they had not been alone.

'Whoever was here is long gone,' she informed them coolly, keeping her gun in hand.

'Why was someone shooting at us?' Broots asked.

'Jarod's idea of a warm welcoming,' she said dryly.

'Parker, I hardly think Jarod would deliberately place us in danger,' Sydney chided.

'Jarod had nothing to do with this,' she said, wiping her forehead. 'We were set up. We should have realised this was too easy.'

Broots's eyes, if possible, widened further.

'You mean -'

'That the brochure from Jarod was a phony,' Parker finished. 'Someone wanted us out here. In a quiet, secluded spot. No witnesses.'

Knowing what Sydney would undoubtedly be thinking, she corrected herself.

'Us... or me.'

'What the hell do you think you're up to?' she snarled, stalking into Lyle's office.

'What's got you all fired up?' he asked.

'Don't give me that crap,' she warned him, her voice like ice. 'I just marginally escaped being perforated today and I want to know which one of your sewer based associates was behind it.'

'I have no idea what you're talking about,' he said. 'You need to calm down, sis.'

'Someone sent us out to Florida today to get rained on by bullets and I think you had something to do with it,' she informed him coldly, dropping the envelope and brochure onto the desk in front of him.

'It looks like a delivery from Jarod, if you ask me,' he informed her. 'I've always told you that he's unbalanced. And, no offense, it doesn't take a genius to figure out why he'd want to shoot you.'

'It's not Jarod,' she spat. 'Jarod does not shoot people. Jarod does not hunt people. Jarod helps them and then he runs away so tell me what is really going on before I take out my gun and shoot you between the eyes!'

'Miss Parker.'

She whirled around to find Raines standing in the doorway. Wondering how exactly she was going to get away without having to converse with the corpse she was looking at, she eventually decided to ignore him and return to the matter at hand.

'If I find out you had anything to do with this,' she said to Lyle through gritted teeth, 'I will ensure you pay. Nobody messes with me and gets away with it.'

With that, she turned and pushed past Raines, striding out without another word to either of them.

By the time she arrived home that night, she was looking forward to a drink. Single malt would do her nicely, she decided, slamming the door to her car shut.

On her way to the door she checked the mail and found a blank envelope inside, which confused her slightly. She was too tired to be overly concerned, however, and was more intent on getting inside.

Around ten minutes later she was seated on the lounge, glass in hand. Her fingers slid along the seal of the envelope, a move she had mastered after endless packages from Jarod.

Inside was a set of photographs.

Of her.

Getting into her car, talking to Sydney, getting onto the jet. On the tarmac at Florida. Talking to Broots. At the gardens.

Someone had been watching her.

A chill ran down her spine just as her phone rang. She reached over and picked it up somewhat mechanically.

'What?' she asked, her tone void of emotion.

'I heard you had a close encounter this afternoon.'

Not even bothering to question how he had found out about it, she stood and walked over to the window.

'It isn't you, Jarod. Is it?'

There was a short silence.

'The Centre told you it was, didn't they?'

'Lyle's up to something, Jarod, and I don't like it. Angelo's under the impression someone's trying to kill me. After today, I don't know what to believe.'

'I'm with Sydney, Miss Parker. You need to watch out for yourself.'

Sydney. So that's how he had found out.

'If today was the best they've got, it's going to take a hell of a lot more to get rid of me,' she answered.

'There's the Miss Parker I know and love,' he said amusedly. 'Sydney needn't be too concerned; I'm sure the sight of you and a gun is enough to make anyone rethink approaching you.'

'Who are they?' she asked, glancing back to where the photos lay.

'I don't know. If I find anything out, you will be the first to know. I promise.'

'What do you -'

She stopped. He had hung up.

Putting down the phone, she moved into the kitchen, where the box of chocolates was open on the bench.

'Happy Valentine's Day,' she muttered, popping one into her mouth.

OK, I'm not all that happy with how this chapter went, but it's done now and I've got everything sorted.

The next chapter is called The Twelfth Hour and has nothing to do with anything much but… you'll get it when you read it. Miss Parker and Jarod actually share some screen time (OK, I know, this isn't TV but just imagine it!) which we all know is very rare so we must lap it all up :)

Sauron764: Lol, I my friend was reading my reviews, and when she reads yours she goes to me "Good familiarity with the show… more like obsessiveness!" I'm glad Kiya isn't Mary Sue-ish anymore :)

Michelle: Actually, I never really considered doing that, but I can see how that's what it would have looked like. I'm more with the theory that the Parker baby is theirs… something about that kid just doesn't add up.  Oh, and don't worry – she's not the child of Catherine and Jarod :) She's Parker's full sister… there'll be more on it later in the story.

Rev: Here we go :)

Jaccione: Bugger school work indeed. Tell that to my teachers… and the heat! Over forty degrees Celsius and we're still out playing tennis in the sun! Blah!

Thank you for the reviews! I'd be writing this anyway, for my own enjoyment as well as my mother's, but this makes it more fun :) My mother actually told me the other night I could write another chapter or go to bed. I personally think that's an abuse of power.

Oh well, there'll be more soon!

Cheers & Beers,

SezZie