Disclaimer: I can only hope that someday such enthralling and complex characters are my personal creations. Until then, the characters of the Pretender have been borrowed and made to live out various situations at my demand and whim. They are not mine.
Summary: Jarod steals valuable Centre information and puts himself into the public eye, the one place the Centre can see him and not touch him. The directive's the same, his freedom for hers. The field of play, however, is entirely different.
Centre Affairs
By Bec-Bec
Chapter 4
Martinique
"This is Sydney."
"Have you ever danced the tango, Sydney?" Jarod asked genially
"When I was younger, yes." Sydney paused thoughtfully. "Why do you ask?"
"Recent experiences have brought me to enjoy its art and movement more than I had in the past."
"The tango is based upon the chemistry between men and women. Your new found enjoyment would be based, intrinsically, on your dance partner."
Jarod chuckled softly. "I suppose so, but then, you already know who my dance partner was, Sydney."
"Miss Parker didn't go home last night, did she?" Sydney asked calmly.
"No," Jarod answered smoothly. "She didn't."
Sydney sighed. "What are you doing, Jarod?" Sydney asked with concern.
"Playing the part, Sydney."
"You're using her."
"It was Miss Parker's choice to come over."
"Was it? It seems to me that neither one of you are making any real choices. You're merely playing the roles that you've created."
There was silence on the line.
Sydney continued after a moment. "She's just as guilty of using you. You've both taken something that should have meaning and stripped it down to a chase tactic."
"Our sexual encounter is none of your business, Sydney," Jarod said evenly. "What happened between Parker and I remains between us."
Regardless of Jarod's comment, Sydney pressed on. "The same problem with intimacy that you are exhibiting is mirrored in Miss Parker. By entering a sexual relationship where you both have underlying motives and neither one of you trusts the other, you have both exacerbated the problem."
"The fact that we're screwing each other to reach our own goals is our business," Jarod said coolly. "Stay out of it."
Sydney sighed deeply. "I would have thought you incapable of using another human being to further your own agenda."
"I'm no angel, Sydney, and neither is she."
"How far do you intend to take this?" Sydney asked softly.
"As far as I have to go to get what I want."
"And what do you want, Jarod?
There was no answer.
"This will not end well," Sydney warned.
"I'll deal with the consequences when the time comes." With that, Jarod hung up.
Sydney frowned pensively. Jarod was immersing himself into his pretend further and further. The fact that he would use Miss Parker as a tool to reach his own objective troubled the psychiatrist deeply. If the Pretender continued with his behavior, Sydney doubted the ramifications would be easily remedied. There was even a possibility that he would never re-emerge from the pretend at all.
Sydney had witnessed this type of sociopath behavior in Jarod previously, but never to this degree. He feared this latest exhibit would lead Jarod directly down the road he had worked to keep Raines from putting the Pretender on in the past.
Jarod was walking the thin line between genius and madness and, ultimately, it would be his own choice as to which side he fell on. Sydney only hoped the Pretender wasn't to fargone to undo his actions.
****
Lyle shuffled through surveillance photos slowly. Parker's scantily clad body pressed against Jarod's, swaying in front of him, grinding against him, kissing him. He studied them closely as he waited for Miss Parker to come in.
Broots was typing away at his computer with a slight blush on his cheeks when Miss Parker entered the room. He glanced at her furtively with a stupid grin.
"What?" she asked coolly.
"Um, uh, nothing," he blushed darker, turning back to the computer screen.
Miss Parker smirked.
"Nice dress," Lyle replied sardonically.
Miss Parker turned her attention to her brother. "Glad you enjoyed the show," she hissed, stalking toward where he was sitting.
Broots saw the sparks igniting and decided to get out of the line of fire. "I think I'll, uh, go see what's going on down on SL-7." He stood up and walked towards the door.
Miss Parker turned to face him with a wry grin as he passed by. With a crooked smile, he said, "It, um, looks like it was a great party."
The corners of her mouth turned up at his statement, which made the techie turn an even brighter shade of red as he walked hastily out of the room.
"Did you even think twice?" Lyle continued.
"No."
"You knew exactly what you were doing?"
"My job," she answered coldly.
Lyle scoffed. "Drop this job bullshit. Everyone knows you're taking advantage of this opportunity to get close to Jarod to fuck him witless."
"Hardly," Miss Parker sneered.
Lyle's mouth twitched. "What? The lab rat isn't good enough for a quick lay? Or, are you really that devoted to screwing him over?" Lyle smirked. "Pun intended."
"Since when do you give a rat's ass?" Miss Parker hissed.
"I don't. I'm just making sure you're not getting in over your head. We wouldn't want the Triumvirate thinking your objectivity was being clouded by your liaison with Jarod."
"Jarod likes me," Miss Parker said harshly. "He always has. He will continue to like me. I'll keep him right next to me."
"And you don't care what that makes you?" Lyle asked with amusement.
"Stay out of it, Lyle," Miss Parker bit back. "I know what I'm doing."
"Do you really?" Lyle asked evenly.
"This is just about recovering the Centre's assets," she answered curtly before leaving the room abruptly.
Lyle grinned softly as he slowly swiveled in Sydney's office chair. Miss Parker was in over her head and he knew it. She could argue her detachment from the situation as much as she wanted; he knew better. He may have only known his sister for the better part of three years but he knew instinctively that despite the act she put on, she would never sell her body to further the Centre's affairs – especially to Jarod.
The two of them could put on as skillful an act as they liked but, Lyle was certain that neither one of them could be indifferent enough to exploit one another. Cunning, yes; indifferent, no. It was only a matter of time before the Triumvirate realized the same.
Lyle paused in his movement and stared pensively across the sim lab for a few minutes before following his sister's example and leaving the room abruptly.
****
"What?" Miss Parker answered her cell phone harshly, walking briskly down the corridor of SL-5.
"Centre affairs getting to you, Miss Parker?" Jarod asked wryly.
Miss Parker huffed with a quick annoyed smile and then pinched the bridge of her nose, where she could already feel the pressure building. "What do you want, Jarod?"
"The pleasure of your company tomorrow afternoon."
She chuckled dryly. "In the interest of saving me the trouble of finding out what you're up to, why don't you tell me why?"
"Do I really need a reason?" Jarod asked with amusement. "Tomorrow, at noon."
"Asshole," Miss Parker hissed as Jarod hung up on her. She continued to stalk quickly down the hallway.
****
Miss Parker leaned back in her seat, tilting her head up to watch the cloudless sky. Her sunglasses shielded her eyes from the bright afternoon sun.
"I could get used to this," she breathed.
The glider sailed easily through the air, riding on the wind drafts as Jarod expertly navigated over fields and mountaintops. The sleek, aerodynamic plane was remarkably light and it almost felt like they were floating. Exhilarating and yet calm. She should have expected that he would want to do something exhilarating, after all, Mr. Crown was a thrill seeker.
"Hold on," Jarod said from behind her.
"Hold on why?" Miss Parker sat up straighter in her seat.
Jarod suddenly turned the glider to the left and tilted the nose upward, riding an updraft.
As the glider flipped upside down, Miss Parker laughed wildly at the strange sensation of instantaneous zero gravity. Gripping the sides of the plane tightly, she was glad Jarod had convinced her to take off her suit jacket so that she could move her arms easier.
When they were flying level again, Jarod leaned closer to Miss Parker. "I want you to try flying."
"No, Jarod."
Jarod held the control with one hand and used his other arm to move Parker's hand to the control as well. "Take the stick."
"Oh, I'm not taking the stick," she shook her head and tried to remove her hand from the control but Jarod held it there.
"Fly the glider, Parker," he breathed softly into her ear.
Nodding, she gave in and placed both of her hands on the stick. Jarod's hands remained on her arms, lingering just below her elbows, offering her support. She tried not to focus on the familiarity that his gesture exuded.
"That's good," he said softly in her ear. Removing a hand from her arm, he pointed off to the horizon. "Head for that hill over there."
Tilting the stick to the side, Miss Parker angled the plane to the right, smiling and laughing softly as the plane flew easily to the side.
"There you go. Feel the wind draft?" Jarod asked with a smile.
She nodded.
"Just like a hawk," he paused as they crested the hill. "I'm in your hands, Parker." Jarod gently removed his hands from her arms
Swallowing, Miss Parker ignored the implication of his statement and continued to guide the plane through the air.
When they had entered an area where there were no more air drafts to support the glider, Jarod took control back and landed them safely in a field.
Popping the plastic dome on top of the glider off with Jarod's help, Miss Parker unstrapped herself from the glider's seat and looked around. Resting her elbow on the side of the plane, she slid her sunglasses lower on her face.
Farmland. They had landed in a grassy field somewhere South of where they had departed in New York. A farm hand was in the distance, standing on his tractor to look at the trespassers. Nearby, livestock were nibbling on the grass. They were in the middle of nowhere.
"Cows," Miss Parker remarked dryly. "That's okay, we're only about four states from your car. Maybe we can get a ride into town on the tractor," she offered drolly.
Jarod stared blankly at her and pulled out his cell phone to call for his personal jet and a taxi. After he had made arrangements for the return of his glider, he flipped the phone shut again and helped Parker out of her seat. The taxi picked them up on the closest country road and they were en route to New York within the hour.
*
Lounging comfortably in his seat, after they boarded the jet, Jarod watched Miss Parker as she stared out of the window. She seemed to have enjoyed the afternoon but had fallen silent by the time they had reached the airstrip.
After a trip to the cockpit to check their progress, Jarod stopped at the bar on the side of the jet and fixed himself a drink. Returning to his seat, he handed Miss Parker a glass of vodka.
She turned from the window and accepted the glass. "That isn't Manhattan," she commented, gesturing to the window before taking a sip from the glass.
Jarod glanced out of the window. "Hmm," he said softly.
"There are things I need to take care of at the Centre, Jarod. I have appointments."
"Do you want to keep them?" he asked evenly.
Miss Parker smirked but didn't answer.
Several hours later they touched down on the small French island of Martinique.
*
Standing out on the small airstrip while she waited for Jarod, Miss Parker enjoyed the feel of the sun on her bare shoulders. Her suit jacket was folded up and sitting in the jeep Jarod had waiting to take them to his house on the edge of the island.
Looking around the airfield, her eyes landed on the luggage the flight crew was unloading from the airplane. Miss Parker slid her sunglasses lower as she watched them pull out two silver cases—DSAs and Jarod's laptop. Fleetingly, she thought of running up and grabbing the two cases to inspect their contents, but she knew better than to expect that Jarod would have been foolish enough to bring those two items on a trip with her.
Just as the silver cases were put into a second jeep, Jarod walked around Miss Parker from behind and handed her a styrofoam cup with a straw.
"Lemonade," Miss Parker commented after sipping at the cool beverage.
Jarod nodded as he walked around to the driver's side of the jeep. "Sweet and sour. An intriguing combination."
Miss Parker narrowed her eyes and slid her sunglasses back up. "Indeed."
Jarod hopped into the jeep and turned on the ignition. "The door is welded," he stated, as he noticed Miss Parker trying to open the passenger side door. "Throw your leg over."
"Throw my leg over?" Miss Parker arched her eyebrow.
Jarod grinned and held the cup Miss Parker handed him as she lifted herself into the jeep.
Once Miss Parker was settled in her seat, Jarod started the ignition and drove off of the airstrip. The jeep holding his luggage followed close behind, and Miss Parker watched the protruding corner of one of Jarod's silver cases as the other car weaved through the cultured city streets behind them.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jarod noticed Miss Parker's intense interest in the vehicle behind them and smiled wryly. "Would you like to inspect them?" he questioned, knowing exactly which items in the other jeep had caught her attention.
"No," Miss Parker answered quickly, turning to face forward again.
"Are you sure?" Jarod asked with tempered amusement.
"Yes."
Jarod nodded his head, accepting her answer.
Eventually, the beautiful surrounding landscape drew Miss Parker's thoughts away from the vehicle behind them. The Caribbean sea breeze as they drove along the old streets of the island felt wonderful against her face and she had an urge to stand up on her seat and let the wind whip through her hair. As she gave into that urge, Jarod grinned softly, masking his delight at her enjoyment.
The soft melodies of local music drifted through the air and some of the local children waved to Miss Parker as Jarod drove slowly through the city. When she waved back, they all smiled at the foreigners with excitement, eagerly watching the uncommon disruption of a small line of cars driving through their dusty hometown.
After Jarod had driven through the city limits, they approached the shadier regions of the island where his house was situated and Miss Parker sat back in her seat with a soft laugh.
Jarod narrowed his eyes. "What?"
"Friendly locals."
Jarod nodded. "They aren't used to this sort of interruption."
"You come here often," Miss Parker commented coolly.
"I needed a place to unwind."
"Another one of Mr. Crown's token vacation homes?"
"Not quite," Jarod replied evenly.
"Does the Centre know about it?"
"Not yet." Jarod looked at her pointedly.
Miss Parker gave a quick, forced smile.
As they came to the end of their leisurely, circular climb to the top of a hill, Jarod's small house came into view.
The building was on the crest of the hill, overlooking the ocean. Exotic trees cast wavering shade over the small area as they swayed in the breeze and bougainvillea draped across the trees' branches, swelling right onto the roof of the house.
When Jarod had parked the car and they had both climbed out, Miss Parker wandered toward the inviting porch that circled the house, slowly noting different aspects of the beautiful hillside.
"This must go over," Miss Parker commented, as they walked up to the house.
"With whom?"
"With whomever you bring here."
Jarod walked past her evenly. "I've never brought anyone here."
Miss Parker paused in her tracks. Her hair blew softly across her forehead and she brushed it aside, tracking Jarod's retreating form with her eyes.
She could not pretend that she hadn't understood the implications of his statement. Mr. Crown was a playboy, and not a discreet one. His ownership of a house in the Caribbean was not a surprise, but his lack of female companionship while staying in that house was. He had not chosen to share his villa with any of his female conquests, except Miss Parker.
After a few moments, she wandered leisurely toward the area of the house where Jarod had disappeared. When she came upon him, he was standing next to a closet with a sly grin on his face.
"Voila."
Miss Parker pulled her sunglasses off slowly and gestured at the closet with them. "I bet they're all my size too," she stated with a half grin.
"Could be." Jarod smirked. "They may be a little off here and there, but I think they'll make do. I'll go make dinner." Jarod indicated the direction he was going in and then walked out of the room, his open shirt flapping lightly in the breeze.
*
After Miss Parker had changed into more comfortable clothing, she followed Jarod's earlier path to the kitchen.
Something smelled wonderful. Perhaps it was seafood. Her interest wasn't in the food, however.
"Come on," she called out, swatting Jarod's butt playfully as she sauntered by.
As she came out onto the porch, Jarod's voice called back to her from the kitchen. "You want some wine?"
"Yes."
The view from Jarod's porch was exquisite. The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon and soft clouds diluted the color of the sky. Along with the deep, clear blue of the oceanside and the colorful plant life dotting the mountainside, the image was breathtaking.
The sarong Miss Parker had changed into blew softly around her knees. "It's beautiful," she commented when she heard Jarod behind her. Turning, her eyes caught the glint of a silver case propped up against the wall of the house.
Leaning down so that his face was in her line of sight, Jarod questioned smoothly. "Do you want to see it?"
"No." Miss Parker brought her eyes back up as Jarod straightened.
"Are you sure?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
"I'm sure." Miss Parker smiled brazenly. "Come here." She threw the towel she had around his neck and pulled him to her.
*
After Jarod had started a small bonfire to light the porch and dilute the ever-cooling breeze, they sat down to dinner.
Miss Parker and Jarod ate the seafood he had prepared in companionable silence for a few moments.
"Do you want to see it?" Jarod asked, breaking the silence smoothly.
Miss Parker glanced at the silver case then continued to pick at her lobster tail. "No."
"Are you sure?"
"Do you think I'd believe you'd leave valuable Centre information lying around a Caribbean hut?" She questioned coolly.
"What if I did?"
"And that you'd tell me?" She quirked an eyebrow, smirking.
"What if I trust you?" he asked calmly.
"You know you can't."
"You don't believe it's possible that you could ever trust me, do you?" Jarod questioned evenly.
"Do you know how likely I think that is?"
They stared pensively at each other for a few moments. Finally, Miss Parker wiped her hands off, stood up and walked over to the silver case. Picking it up, she carried it over to the bonfire and dropped it in.
Jarod watched her movements silently. When she had returned to her seat and settled in, he narrowed his eyes lightly at the bonfire. "Should I open another bottle of wine?"
"Mmm," Miss Parker commented distantly. "Yes." Here eyes remained trained on the bonfire.
"I think so," Jarod commented. "This bottle wasn't very good."
Miss Parker's watched the case scorch slowly. "No… not really."
"1985, not very good."
"Mmm."
A moment of silence passed.
"What was in it?" Miss Parker asked softly
"A laptop, CDs, a few ZIP discs."
"Important?"
"We'll never know, will we?"
Miss Parker shook her head, then drank down a glass of the wine quickly.
"Easy, easy." Jarod calmed her as she went for the bottle to refill her glass. "I think I'll go get that other bottle of wine." He stood and moved toward the kitchen.
"Yeah." Miss Parker replied, then suddenly burst into laughter. "Oh. You're not boring, I'll give you that!"
*
When Miss Parker woke the next morning, she was alone in bed. Sliding to the edge, she reached for her sarong on the floor and stood. As she fastened it around her waste, she walked slowly to the balcony and peered out, trying to locate the source of the distant voices she heard.
Jarod was deep in conversation with several gentlemen in suits. They had the air of bankers – cool, neat, financially interested men.
Miss Parker slipped back into the bedroom softly.
*
"You complimented me," Miss Parker said calmly, her eyes fixed on the ocean water.
She was tanning in the sun on the beach later that morning when Jarod approached from behind.
"How?"
"They were bankers."
"Who?"
"Who?!" she huffed in annoyance. "The suits." There was a brief moment of silence. "You're transferring assets, preparing to disappear," she said evenly.
Jarod stared at her, then turned his eyes to the secluded stretch of land, focusing on the edge of the surf, the line where water met sand. "Suppose I did disappear," he began contemplatively. "What would you have left?" he continued, in a detached, casual tone. "Not the information. Not the truth. Not me."
"Yes." She nodded.
Jarod turned back to her. "Suppose I paid you."
Miss Parker laughed at the absurdness of his offer. "To let you go?" she stated.
Jarod nodded.
"I don't need money, Jarod."
"Then suppose I offered you a piece of your past," he tried again.
Miss Parker straightened in her seat. "Like what?" she asked with interest.
"The truth," Jarod replied.
"What makes you so certain that you know that truth?" her eyebrow arched.
"The information I took wasn't just about me, Parker." He turned toward the ocean again.
Miss Parker swallowed. "What did you find?" she asked softly.
"I can't give that information to you, Parker."
"And I can't take it as a trade," she said calmly.
"You could." He turned and eyed her with a steady face.
"It would be my death sentence."
"They wouldn't have to know."
Miss Parker turned her eyes away from him to watch the sunset. "Do you really think there's happily ever after for people like us?" she asked quietly.
He didn't answer, concentrating on the endless ebb and flow of the ocean. There was nothing but the gentle sound of waves around them. The tide was coming in.
*
Some time later, when the sun had dipped beneath the horizon, Miss Parker lay nude along Jarod's back, the palms of her hands pressed against his shoulder blades and her cheek resting lightly on the side of his head. The mosquito netting that cascaded from the ceiling, surrounding their bed rustled lightly in the breeze.
"So, just how many times have you broken into the Centre's mainframe?" she asked quietly, stroking the soft skin behind his left ear.
"A few." He let out a long, slow breath as her fingers slid through his hair.
"Several mouse clicks and there's every piece of information you ever wanted."
Jarod nodded softly.
"How come you didn't take it sooner?"
"I didn't know where to look, before" he replied evenly.
"And now that you do, you've finally made a bargain for your freedom. The only problem is, you can't run anymore," Miss Parker smirked lightly.
"That doesn't mean I can't chase."
"The Centre doesn't like being toyed with," she stated, "and neither do I."
"It's just a game, Parker," Jarod whispered solemnly. "It's just a game."
Something about Jarod's tone caused Miss Parker to wonder for the first time if it was in fact he and not she that was determining the exact nature and character of their relationship.
Author's Note: Well, the next chapter's finally done. I figured that I owed this to a few very special people who have been bugging me to update. I love you all madly.
Happy holidays and a wonderful new year to all!
