Disclaimer: My attorney can beat up your attorney.
Jarod's Quarters
Jarod slowly surfaced back to awareness, each sense gradually returning:
First, his sense of touch, or being touched. Soft cool fingers brushed across his forehead, smoothing the furrows away. They moved down his cheek, soothing him. "Hmm," he murmured nuzzling his cheek against the hand comforting him.
Second, his sense of hearing as he became aware of a gentle feminine voice, speaking to him softly. "Wake up Jarod. Come on sweetheart, wake up. You can't sleep your life away," she indulgently chided him. Jarod sighed, recognizing Miss Parker's voice, even if he didn't recognize the tone.
Third, his sense of smell. Miss Parker's signature scent tickled his nose, complimenting the touch of her hand and her sweet voice. Another scent, that of something spicy and sweet, was in the background, waking his stomach up.
Yes, this was the best dream ever. He sighed and curled into his pillow, not willing to wake up, not yet. A tenderhearted, soothing Miss Parker, concerned for him, was too much to give up without a fight.
He rubbed his cheek against the silk-covered thigh next to him and murmured a protest against rising to reality.
Her light laughter played about his ears. "You silly. Wake up. I've made spaghetti. I know you have to be hungry by now," she mock-scolded him.
Silk-covered thigh? Jarod's eyes popped up to encounter a playful pair of blue/grey eyes twinkling at him and a smile he hadn't seen since childhood gracing Miss Parker's face.
"Finally," she teased him with a gentle pat on his cheek. She stood up, gently disengaging his arms still wrapped around her. "You must have had a hard day at the Sim Lab to be napping already." She walked away from his astonished sight and into what must be the newly revised kitchen area because he could hear pans clinking together and the scent of spicy spaghetti sauce got stronger as a lid was lifted and a spoon stirred. "Are you ready for dinner?" she asked, her voice a little louder to carry the added distance.
"Sure," he responded automatically, sitting up to hold his head in his hands. What the hell is happening?
Lyle's Office
Lyle chuckled and settled comfortably into his chair, flicking a lock of hair out of his eyes as he watched the live feed. "And so it begins."
Jarod's Quarters
"Jarod?" Miss Parker returned to the bedroom. "Are you all right?" she asked, her voice full of concern. She brushed a hand across his forehead, checking for a fever.
He leaned into her touch without thought. "I'm fine," he assured her, closing his eyes to savor the feeling of her being concerned for him. A secret dream he never shared with anyone. One he barely dared to admit to himself. Miss Parker concerned for him, caring for him.
She sat down next to him on the bed. "Maybe you are too tired? I shouldn't have wakened you, I just knew you would have problems sleeping tonight if you took too long of a nap now," she explained, moving her hand down to rest on his arm.
Jarod partially turned on the bed, looking closer at her, searching her eyes for some hint as to what was happening, what game she was playing, but she merely looked guilelessly back at him, only concern showed in her gaze.
"No, I'm fine. Let's eat," he stalled, suddenly wanting to pretend that this was real, at least for a while. Just a little while. He was so tired of being alone. So alone. "It smells good," he stated as he stood and offered her his hand.
Miss Parker smiled and accepted his hand, keeping her fingers twined through his as they walked to the kitchen/dining area. "I hope so, it's my specialty. I would hate to think that all the other times you ate it, you were just pretending," she teased.
Jarod just smiled, part of him disturbed by her words, but the more dominate part embracing the idea that they were a couple and had been for a while.
He glanced down at her, fully looking at her for the first time. It was still the breath-takingly beautiful Miss Parker of the short skirt, silk blouse, long legs and impossibly high heels. He frowned a little. "Where have you been today?" he asked.
She looked at him, curious. "At work. Where else would I have been? Centre Security doesn't just happen you know."
He nodded. "Sorry, I must still be asleep," he apologized. So I, we, are still in the Centre.
"I guess so," she said light-heartedly and finally let go of his hand to walk over to the stove. "Would you fix the garlic bread?" she asked, busying herself with draining the boiling spaghetti. A bowl of tossed salad, two types of dressing, two plates with accompanying silverware and a container of freshly grated Parmesan Cheese was already laid out on the table.
Jarod looked around, lost in what was supposed to be his own kitchen. He started opening and closing drawers looking for a bread knife, finding it and spotting the French loaf already laid out. He opened the refrigerator surprised to see several types of sodas and a covered chocolate cake surrounded by condiments and further salad makings. After removing the butter dish and the garlic shaker, he closed the refrigerator door still shocked by his discoveries and her apparent acceptance of it all. On a whim, he opened the freezer door and stood looking at three types of ice cream until she closed the door. "No dessert until after dinner," she told him firmly, her tone one of repetition.