Disclaimer: Lawyers are overpaid anyway, so don't sue and provide them with work
AN: Isn't Lyle wonderfully slimy? Got to love him!
Jarod's Quarters
Jarod stood looking down at Miss Parker's sleeping form. The night had been . . . surreal. Yes, surreal was a good description. Never in his wildest pretends had he ever imagined sitting down to dinner with Miss Parker and listening to her casually chitchat about her day in Centre Security. It had boggled his mind. And then, they had cleaned up after dinner, sharing the chores as though they had done it a hundred times, with her touching him, oh so casually, as though she had a right to do so. It had unnerved him enough so that she had once again checked him for a fever due to his apparent open-jawed bewildered look.
It had taken some really fancy word working on his part to convince her that he did not need to go to 'Medical.'
Definitely surreal.
For a while, he had bought into it. Pretended. And . . . enjoyed it, he was ashamed to admit. Being in the same room with Miss Parker had always given him a visceral thrill, but to be in such a situation with her, so relaxed and not trying to kill him or take him back to . . . to, well, where he was actually. Still . . .
He couldn't do it. He couldn't stay in this pretend, no matter how . . . good it felt.
That didn't mean he wasn't tempted. He was human. He was tempted. Oh, was he enticed. He was . . . male, after all. When Miss Parker had casually handed him the bottom half of a pair of pajamas and thrown the top half on the bed for her own wear, he had been tempted. So very tempted. And when she had started to undress, he hadn't watched, but, oh how he had wanted to. Memories of Ocee's place had haunted his dreams for longer than he cared to admit. Having to force himself to turn his back on her changing form had been akin to the feeling he usually got when he realized that Miss Parker was close on his trail. Looking out the window or over his shoulder and seeing her, with the adrenaline pumping through him and realizing that once again, he was free, that kind of . . . rush, like skydiving, piloting a jet, driving a race car, it was pure sensation.
He watched as she rolled over, reaching to his side of the bed.
And then, the real struggle had begun with five simple words. "Aren't you coming to bed?"
Her voice, a siren's call and he a hapless sailor. The gentle pat of the spot on the bed next to her, the covers already pulled down. Those tempting words, those tantalizing words, those damning words.
Jarod clenched his hands together, biting his short nails into his palms to distract his thoughts.
It was looking into her eyes, those same eyes that beckoned him, encouraged him, lured him, looking into those curiously vacant eyes had brought it all home to him.
She would hate knowing this happened.
Lyle's Office
Lyle swore and placed his half-eaten bag of popcorn down on his desk with a plop. What was wrong with this guy? Here the woman of his dreams was offering herself up to him and what did he do? He turned her down. Idiot!
Not that Jarod, "Mr. Sensitive," had just stated, 'No, thanks,' or even 'Not tonight, I have a headache.' Oh, no, nothing that crude. Instead, he had fabricated some little tale, even as he climbed into bed, laying on the top sheet to avoid contact with her, about how tired he still felt due to his activities in the Sim Lab and as soon as she had drifted off, he popped out of the bed like a jack-in-a-box.
Lyle rolled his eyes in disgust. There's my evening shot to hell!
While Jarod maintained a safe distance from the Lorelei known at Miss Parker and her oh so alluring bed, Miss Parker, in her innocence, dreamt. She dreamt disturbing dreams full of syringes and bright lights. Dreams of Jarod, shooting at him, chasing him, talking on the telephone with him and pitying him. Dreams of a little girl, alone and afraid and Jarod, a little boy, alone and afraid, each offering what comfort they could. Dreams of her mother, telling her to wake up. Dreams of her disgusting brother and his sadistic doctor, Dr. Cox, standing at her bedside. Dreams that felt more like memories than dreams.
She slept through the phone in the suite ringing, but, Jarod didn't. He answered on the first ring, casting a glance at the bed to confirm she was not disturbed. "What?"
Lyle chuckled. "One day with her and you've already picked up her bad habits?" he taunted. "What's going on, Jarod? She too June Cleaver for you? We can adjust that, you know," Lyle offered. "In fact, we can make her anything you desire. You want a real tramp, just say the word."
Jarod clenched his jaw. His hand shook, almost crushing the receiver.
"You just remember that tomorrow when you are testing with Sydney. We can do anything we want with her," Lyle unsubtly threatened.