Mint on the Pillow

Part Three - Different in the Light

As the pale February morning slanted in through the tasteful blinds, Miss Parker awoke with a smile on her face for the first time in years. Last night was magical, unreal almost. She'd felt nothing but anger and emptiness for so long, but in one night Jarod, her nemesis, had shattered the wall of ice around her heart and made her feel loved.

Drowsily, she tried to roll over, but her hand was restrained - cold metal pressed into her flesh. Her eyes snapped open, her breath caught in her throat as she stared, incredulous, at her handcuffed wrist.

She looked desperately around the room... Where was he! The bastard! All her sweet thoughts of Jarod turned to hatred in a split-second - god the man was unbelievable! How could he do this to her, after all he had said about surrender, about having one night of absolute truce?

She felt like such a chump, tricked into bed and, worse, into feeling and admitting more than she'd ever dared, when all along he'd been planning his revenge. She remembered her incessant gloating all the way up from the lobby... She expected him to come strolling in any minute, a tray of breakfast and a smile like she wasn't fixed to the bed, a prisoner. Oh yes, he would enjoy turning the tables like this. Last night she had him right where she wanted him, at gunpoint, the taste of victory in her mouth. What taunts would he throw at her now, what degradation would he dream up?

She felt tears roll down her cheek and swatted them angrily away with her free hand. She had to stay furious, livid with rage; cursing him with every breath... it was the only way to stave off the welling of sadness, of loss. Part of her knew the greatest hurt came not from the betrayal, but that she had believed in something last night, in the words he whispered, in the look in his deep, searching eyes, in the way he gave himself to her utterly, completely... it had felt real. Now she grieved for the loss of that perfect reality, cut deep by the knowledge that the most powerful thing she had ever felt had been false.

- - - - - - - - - -

The Majestic Hotel was alive with activity at 7am, maids hurrying here and there, receptionists going through their long lists of wake-up calls.

Sydney strolled into the high-ceilinged lobby and up to the gold-edged reception desk. He mentioned that he'd come to collect Miss Parker from Room 101, and, rather than have them page her at this hour, which he knew wouldn't do anything to pacify her after being 'trapped' there all night, he simply went on up.

- - - - - - - - - -

Parker, her mind caught up in a tempest of emotions, was now almost anticipating Jarod's return so that she could start hurling abuse at him. Where was he? Just then she spotted something glinting above her... the handcuff key, suspended out of reach above her. Oh, that was just too much!

"JAROD!" she yelled.

Approaching her door, Sydney heard the yell and broke into a run. He banged on the door, "Miss Parker!"

Parker recognised the voice immediately. Terror gripped her - she was going to be found like this! "Sydney, don't--" she started.

But he had already kicked the flimsy door open and dashed into the room. Breathless, he scanned the room, obviously expecting to see a fleeing Jarod, or find Miss Parker under attack... his anxiety turned to confusion as he saw her in bed, one wrist cuffed to the headboard.

"Miss Parker, what's...?"

Noises could be heard in the corridor: maids approaching to find the cause of the commotion.

"Shut the door!" Parker hissed urgently. Sydney quickly stepped out and mumbled to the staff that there was no cause for alarm, then shut the door as much as possible with its busted lock, and wedged it. He turned back to Miss Parker, who quickly looked away. She wouldn't, couldn't talk to Sydney now.

The psychiatrist cleared his throat, his usual calm returning as he took stock of the situation. It was plainly obvious that last night had been very eventful; something had happened between Jarod and Miss Parker... there had to have been a liaison, a romantic interlude turned sour? They must have argued, but he could never believe that Jarod would... Whatever the circumstances, Miss Parker was clearly very shaken and more hurt than she would admit. He had some very tough counselling ahead.

He went over to the bedside and checked the handcuff.

"Key's up there," she said flatly, waving her free hand above her but still not meeting his concerned eyes.

Sydney reached up for the key, but noticed immediately something was amiss.

"Miss Parker, there's some kind of device attached to this key..." he examined it more closely; it looked like the hotel alarm clock and a spring from the chair had been cannibalised. "It appears to be a timer and... the key is in a clamp set to be released in twenty minutes."

Parker looked up at it in confusion. "What the hell--?"

"It appears Jarod wanted to release you, at seven-thirty." Sydney said delicately. She looked sharply at him. So, Shrink-Master-General had already worked the whole thing out, had he? Ugh, she wanted to curl up and die!

"Gee, Syd, I really don't feel like waiting around. Get it out, NOW!"

Sydney considered the device for a moment, then simply removed the alarm clock battery and the key dropped, landing not two inches from Miss Parker's face. She seized it, unlocked her cuffs and sat up, grabbing the duvet around her, right up to her chin.

"Now, do you think you could wait outside?" It wasn't a request. Sydney nodded meekly and left the room.

She leaped out of bed and dragged on the clothes she had worn for two days already, which were neatly folded on a chair... not where they had landed last night. She stood before the mirror and steeled herself before stepping out to face Sydney.

As she emerged into the corridor, chin held high, she shot the psychiatrist a withering look. "Say one word--" Sydney held up his hands in acquiescence, and, to his credit, there was not a hint of amusement on the old man's face.

End of Part Three