Hey guys, here's a long one for you... wow, I wrote long chapters in those days:)


After consulting with Broots to make sure there would be no security recordings of our session, Sydney and I adjourned to his office to begin our work. Butterflies of excitement and nervousness danced merrily in my stomach. I was grateful that Sydney tactfully did not mention the DSA recordings that Broots and Miss Parker had been watching.

Sydney walked over to a stereo system against one wall, selected a CD and soon classical music was floating from the speakers. When I looked at him quizzically, he explained that if anyone were to come by the explanation would be that we were just listening to music.

"After all," he said, "I'm hoping that we might be able to communicate telepathically and it'd look strange us just sitting here staring at each other."

I laughed. "Actually, I know that it is possible to communicate that way."

"Do you mean sending and receiving? And with someone who does not have telepathic abilities?"

"Yes, Broots and I played around with that on the weekend. We could 'talk' quite easily."

"That could be an extremely useful talent." Sydney remarked. "I wonder if Broots has a latent ability or if you can do so with anyone... Shall we try?"

I nodded grinning and sent the thought - 'Lets go tell Mr Parker that his son, Lyle, is gay!'

Sydney shook his head. "If you were sending something then, I didn't receive it." He sounded disappointed. He was thinking, 'If Broots can do it, why can't I?'.

"Hold on, I'll try with Broots again - I have a feeling I was doing something differently." I sent Broots a thought - 'Broots, can you hear me?' - got the reply 'Roger, reading you loud and clear!'

I laughed and sent back 'Who the hell is Roger?' and received his amused non-verbal response.

Sydney watched me with fascination, wondering what was going on.

"Okay," I spoke aloud to Sydney. "I've worked out the difference. With you I was trying too hard or something. Let's try that again."

"Alright." He agreed and his mind was calculating all the possible reasons why concentrating harder on this task would be making it more difficult. Before he could begin to discuss all these concepts with me, which I considered would be the less interesting part of our work together, I sent him the thought again. This time I let it happen more naturally.

'Lets go tell Mr Parker that his son is gay!'

"Is he!" Sydney gasped out loud. "But I've never seen any of the classic signs of homosexuality in him or..." Then he saw the overly innocent look on my face and gave a chuckling sigh. "That was a joke, wasn't it?

"Yep. Thought it might help if the thought wasn't something you would have come up with yourself anyway - it proves that it was sent by me and not just guessed by you."

"Good point."

We practiced sending and receiving thoughts in a more structured way compared to what Broots and I had been mucking around with on the weekend. Sydney asked detailed questions about everything I had discovered I could do as well as getting me to demonstrate some of these things - he especially enjoyed it when I levitated the both of us around the room. He got me to describe how it felt when I used different aspects of my powers.

At first the words came haltingly - I wasn't used to discussing my powers with anyone - but gradually it became easier and eventually I held nothing back regarding my gifts. Trust can kill you screamed the voice in my mind again but, as I had been doing so much lately, I squashed that thought away firmly. I had to tell Sydney as much as I could about my powers because he was the only one who could help me reach my potential and he couldn't do that without having a full picture of how it all worked.

Then the conversation turned in a different direction - Sydney started subtly to turn things into a counselling session.

"Sydney." I admonished. "You're being a psychiatrist."

He just smiled. "I am a psychiatrist."

"I don't need..."

"I think you do. No-one could go through the kind of childhood you had and be totally fine."

"Well, I'm not going to let you psychoanalyze me just yet." I lowered my eyes. "I'm simply not ready to trust you that much." Trust can kill you or set you free. No! Trust can kill you.

"That's understandable. I hope that given time you will feel differently. I only want to help you."

"I know, Sydney."

We were both silent for a moment and then I found the courage to ask him something that had been bothering me for a while now.

"Sydney, you know how I automatically 'read' people - kind of get a sense of what they're like, how they feel about things - well, the thing is... I can't fully read Broots."

"What do you mean?" Sydney asked, intrigued.

"At first it all seems normal but then at a certain point, I just hit some kind of wall - and its not like there is anything wrong with him - there is definitely something there that I'm blocked from seeing."

"Do you think its something that Broots is subconsciously doing?"

"That's the thing, Sydney, I don't know for certain of course but I really don't think it has anything to do with him. I think it's my problem - that I'm the one with the block."

"And you only experience this with Broots?"

"So far. Sure, some people are harder to pin down than others, especially in The Centre, and people have lots going on underneath the surface that I don't automatically read - that I would have to delve a little further to discover - but this block I have regarding Broots is very definite."

"Can you ascertain what facet of Broots it is that is hidden from you?"

I pondered this for a moment. Why hadn't I tried to work that out before? Maybe that's why I still have a block, I thought ruefully. After reaching out my senses to Broots, who was still working away on his computer in the outer office, and exploring the edges of the area of him that I could not read, I finally answered Sydney's question.

"I think...that it has something to with how he feels..."

"Yes?" prompted Sydney.

"...about me!" I finished with surprise but then added uncertainly, "Maybe. I mean, I know how Broots feels about me - he cares about me and wants me to be happy. He's my best friend and I'm his. We have fun together. How can it be about that when I can sense his feelings for me already?"

Sydney wore a satisfied expression. He was fairly sure that he had the answer - but to my frustration he kept it hidden from me. I realised this was going to be irritating for me - Sydney had enough mental discipline to keep at least certain thoughts from me now that he was aware of my abilities. "I don't know for absolute certain, but I have a few suspicions as to why you have subconsciously placed this restriction upon yourself."

"Sydney!" I entreated. "Tell me!"

"I can't just tell you, it doesn't work like that." He grinned broadly. "It's something we'll have to explore further - I will help to guide you through it but in the end it is something that you must discover for yourself. The actual process of doing so is the most important part of getting past your block."

I threw my hands up in mock despair and grumbled. "Thanks a lot, Sydney. You've been a big help on that issue. Listen, if you're so determined to get me into therapy there is something I'd like to work on."

"And what is that?"

"I'd kinda like to not freak out every time someone calls me special. Or you know, that P word."

"Speaking of which," He began tentatively, gently, "What would you think about trying a sim?"

"Are you saying I might be a Pretender?" I gasped in shock. A sim - simulation - was something Pretenders did. I felt my eyes go wide with fright even though I knew I had nothing to be afraid of - I was no longer a child and The Centre was not involved in my training this time. It was just Sydney and me hidden away in his office - and thanks to Broots, also hidden from the ever present security cameras.

"Not in the obvious sense, no. Although your intelligence levels are quite high, you do not quite make it into the genius category which is an integral part of being classed a Pretender."

"Folks are dumb where I come from..." I pouted dramatically, making light of things, but my heart was still pounding.

Sydney grinned. "However, I believe you could still successfully perform certain types of sims and perhaps we will discover yet another facet of your extraordinary talents."

"I'll think about it."

He nodded, satisfied with my answer for now. "Melinda," he began and I knew he was going to ask me something I couldn't tell him. "What are you hoping to achieve by being back here at The Centre after all these years?"

Trust can kill you! I smiled coldly. "I could ask you a similar question."

He was surprised. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I find it interesting that after all that you've seen The Centre do, all the people they've destroyed, you're still here. You could just leave - just walk away."

He took the bait as I had hoped - anything to distract him from getting me talking about my goals and where my loyalties lay. His normal calm air seemed to vanish and his accent grew thicker as his emotions took hold of him.

"I can't just walk away! Jarod, Miss Parker - they need me - I have to protect them. I have to do whatever I can to make up for this madness of which I've been a part!"

His vehemence took us both by surprise. Now he was still and staring at me. I realised that he was suddenly struck by what he saw as a heady mix of beauty and power in my face and he was unsure of whether to be afraid or awed. This did not concern me as I felt a deadly calm overtake me. My mission was clear to me, my resolve seemed stronger to me than ever.

"Just as I have to do what must be done. However long it takes. Whatever it takes."

Sydney was about to speak again - to ask me more - but just then we were interrupted by the appearance of Mr Lyle in the outer office. I arranged it so that, through me, Sydney was able to picture in his mind what was going on out there just as I could. The delight in Sydney's eyes at this new experience pleased me immensely especially as this distraction seemed to completely dispel the tension that had built up between us a moment ago.

"What's going on in there?" Lyle asked Broots, indicating Sydney's office.

"Uh... Melinda and Sydney are listening to some classical music."

"Why? Does it have something to do with Jarod?"

"No. They both just like the same type of music. They say its helps them to relax or something..." Broots trailed off. Sydney and I smiled at each other. Broots was doing pretty well at covering for us.

"Classical music, hey? So that's a way in..." Lyle mused.

"Huh?" Broots was perplexed.

"Ya gotta know what a woman's interests are, bucko, if you want to get anywhere with her. That Melinda is a prize piece if ever I saw one..."

Lyle turned away from Broots towards Sydney's office, therefore missing the silent but nevertheless vehement snarl that appeared on Broots' face as he bore down on Lyle with very clenched fists. Sydney and I exchanged alarmed glances.

"Gotta go break this up." I leapt out of my chair and hurried for the door with Sydney following closely.

The hostility on Broots' face melted away as soon as I appeared and he gave me a little sheepish grin. Thank god, Broots had not had the chance to attack Lyle - I doubt that Broots would have lasted long against this cold-blooded killer. The man who had killed Jarod's brother, Kyle. Though, I suppose that Broots could have gotten a few good shots in before Lyle creamed him.

"Melinda! Just the person I was looking for!" Mr Lyle approached me immediately, taking both my hands in his before I could pull away. "I heard about what happened on Friday evening. I'm so sorry. I just wanted you to know that your assailant has been dealt with severely. "

I said nothing and fought the urge to flinch away from him. When Mr Lyle said that my assailant had been 'dealt with severely', I didn't know - because I didn't want to know - whether that meant he had been executed, punished or perhaps even promoted. Stranger things had happened - after all, Brigitte was now married to Mr Parker and expecting his child, less than a year after she had attempted to assassinate him. Sometimes I felt like I should burn the whole place to the ground just to eliminate the craziness, but then all my answers would burn with it.

"Are you alright? Is there anything I can do?" His voice and eyes reflected concern. Genuine concern, I realised with surprise, but only because he hoped to get me into bed sometime soon.

"I'm fine now, thank you Mr Lyle."

"Good. Glad to hear it." Mr Lyle cupped my chin in his hand - the one with a thumb, thank god - and looked me in the eyes intently. "If you ever need anything, you come to me."

I sensed one of Miss Parker's 'spare me' roll of the eyes as she came out of her office behind me to see what was going on.

"I'll keep that in mind." I replied, feeling slightly ill. I couldn't help but remember Sydney and me joking earlier about whether Lyle was gay but the thoughts he had about me where more than an indication that he was definitely not. In desperation to escape the horrible images he unknowingly forced upon me, I submersed my perceptions instead in the soothing aura of Broots who standing protectively nearby.

He looked at me again, this time with a leer. "You know, you're a very attractive young woman." With that he turned and left with only a brusque "Carry on." directed towards the others, leaving me feeling like I needed to take a shower.

Miss Parker approached me. I sensed she was going to apologise about earlier and apologising was something that did not come easily to Miss Parker. I felt like being hard on her but I wanted too much for things to be like they were before - besides after the successful two hours just spent with Sydney I was in a generous mood.

"Listen, Melinda..." Miss Parker began reluctantly, "About those DSAs..."

"Look, I'm okay about it now - I just would have preferred if you had asked me first." I told her. "If you plan on doing any more digging into my past then I would appreciate it if you would keep me in the loop."

"Agreed." Miss Parker replied, relieved that she would not have to do any grovelling - not that she would ever stoop to such a pathetic level.

The outer doors hissed open and we all turned to see who had entered this time. To our collective surprise it was the Chairman of The Centre himself, Miss Parker's father, who was known simply as Mr Parker. It was very rare to find anyone who was known by more than one name to be even remotely involved in the higher echelons of power at The Centre.

The secretaries down where I had worked in the Administrative Department - something that seemed like a lifetime ago - were Betty Russell, Dorothy Smith and so on but up here it was all simply Brigitte, Sydney, Mr Lyle, Mr Parker, Miss Parker, Broots. The trend even continued to Miss Parker's sweeper, Sam and Mr Raines' sweeper, Willie. In fact, now that I thought about it, the only people I knew both names for were William Raines... and Catherine Parker. Respectively, Evil and Good personified, I mused.

I turned back to listen to what Mr Parker had come to say. I was surprised when he turned to me after only a brief acknowledgement of his daughter's presence.

"Ah, Melinda. I suppose it is about time we were formally introduced - I'm Mr Parker, the Chairman of The Centre. I suppose you're wondering why I've dropped by to see you."

"Not really, sir." I replied respectfully. "I imagine you wanted to talk about what happened last week." I didn't have to be a mind-reader to work that one out.

"Well, yes. Terrible business that. I wanted to offer my personal apology and to let you know that I have instructed that better security lighting, cameras and other such measures are to be installed in the employees' carpark immediately."

All of a sudden I wanted to yell something like 'Cameras didn't save Catherine!' but managed to simply nod. His presence put me on edge. There was something so strange about him and I began to wonder if he even kept secrets from himself. In the back of my mind I was still a little worried that somehow he might remember the young girl whose release he had authorised some ten years ago.

That awkward piece of business attended to, Mr Parker continued on in a jokey tone, "So is my daughter giving you a hard time?"

"Daddy..." Miss Parker protested.

"She's very professional, sir. I enjoy working with her."

"Good, good. Well, keep up the good work."

He made motions that he was about to leave so I sent a thought to Sydney letting him know that I was going to get Mr Parker to invite his daughter to lunch. A demonstration for Sydney as well as an act of kindness for the woman whom I still considered a friend. He nodded almost imperceptibly to show he understood.

A gentle suggestion - 'You should have lunch together' - sent towards Mr Parker and he quite readily spoke up. I smiled to myself, this was my old Jedi mind trick at work.

He turned to Miss Parker, using his pet name for her. "Angel, how does lunch with the old man sound?"

"That'd be wonderful, Daddy. I'm ready to go now, if you are." Miss Parker glowed.

"Sure." He smiled like a king bestowing the privilege of his company on a favoured subject. They left for lunch arm in arm.

"Very impressive." Sydney told me.

Broots looked confused and then it dawned on him. "Did you just make him ask her to lunch?"

I grinned wickedly. "I didn't make him do it, dear Broots, I merely made a suggestion."

"Messing with Mr Parker's mind... Scary." Broots shuddered dramatically.

"And potentially fraught with danger," warned Sydney. "As long as you don't suggest something too far out of their usual behaviour patterns."

"So I guess 'suggesting' to the powers that be that they let Jarod remain free is out of the question?" I quipped before realising that I was skirting near an issue that I don't think any of us were to discuss just yet. The issue of where exactly we all stood on the matter of Jarod.

"Yes, I would think so." answered Sydney carefully.

"Anyway," Broots broke in quickly to mercifully change the subject. "Are you guys about ready to take a break? I was hoping I could persuade Melinda to have lunch with me."

Sydney had some work he had been neglecting so he decided to take this opportunity to get some of it done. Broots and I headed off to the lunchroom together. I had been hoping to get a chance to watch the DSA that Angelo had given me but preferably whilst no-one else was around. Instead, however, I ended up confiding in Broots about the disk and he suggested taking our food back to the office so we could check it out while Miss Parker was at lunch and Sydney was busy in his office.

However, when we arrived we discovered that Miss Parker had returned from her lunch with Mr Parker much earlier than we had expected and was now talking with Sydney in the outer office. The DSA would have to wait for another time.

"What happened to your lunch with Mr Parker?" I asked.

"Lyle ended up joining us and then they both went off for some important meeting that apparently was no concern of mine." She sounded resigned and no doubt by now she was used to being let down by her father. After all, it was clear to me that he lied to her all the time. Sometimes so much so that I thought he might even have begun to believe some of those lies himself.

Ultimately, as far as I could tell so far anyway, Mr Parker did have his daughter's best interests at heart - and he hid things from her in order to protect her, or at least that is what he told himself. He looked at the very big picture - at where they might be in twenty years time and he felt that anything justified the means to his end. As to what he was actually aiming for, I was uncertain - perhaps it was simply survival?

Whatever his reasoning - however he felt his actions were justifiable - I felt quite sure that if he wasn't very careful he would lose his daughter forever. Most likely it would be sooner rather than later. After all, how many times could she be let down - how often could she be deceived - until she no longer had any faith or trust in her father?

"You have a very strange family, Miss Parker." I remarked.

"You're telling me." She replied ruefully. "Well, what about you? Are you like Jarod and searching unrelentingly for your family?"

It amused me in a way that no-one had dared ask me that question until now. The day had been spent mostly dancing around touchy subjects and when it came to things involving my past with The Centre most issues were touchy.

The thing that I found amusing was the way they didn't avoid such subjects for the sake of not upsetting me but rather because the answers tended to make them feel uncomfortable.

"Family? Never had one, maybe never will." I was a little surprised to hear the bitterness in my own voice. I thought I had come to terms with this issue - that I would probably spend the rest of my life relatively alone. Perhaps my recent excursion into the Broots household had reawakened my longing for that elusive word - home - and with it the concept of family.

The dream from last night lingered and I thought of the baby that had been planned for me - and would have been created without my consent - all those years ago, the child that would have been Jarod's. What a wondrous child it would have been, with his extraordinary gifts intermingled with my powers! But within The Centre such a child would be completely and utterly doomed. Just as Jarod and I were doomed - despite being physically free of The Centre we were both still trapped by our pasts.

"But your parents? Who were they?" persisted Miss Parker, rousing me from my thoughts.

Broots looked at his feet, shifting uncomfortably, wishing Miss Parker would leave me alone. As for Sydney, he was interested as always.

I shook my head. "Those fools couldn't give me to The Centre fast enough once they had even an inkling of my abilities. They knew The Centre was not benevolent when they abandoned me to them but that didn't bother my parents in the slightest. They were glad to be rid of me.

"Even so," I paused sighing, "I grieved for them for a time after The Centre had them killed."

Miss Parker went white at the matter-of-fact tone of my voice. I understood.

I turned to her. "I know you find it hard to understand - you still grieve from your mother whose spirit shone a light from within so brightly that even people without my gifts could perceive it."

Her eyes filled with tears.

"My parents, however, were weak, unfeeling people who took the money offered by The Centre for me without a second thought. They paid with their lives for dealing with the devil. I pitied them, forgave them and moved on."

"My mother..." Her voice trembled and I tensed because I knew the question that was following. "Do you know who killed her?"

Her emotions welled up inside her before breaking over me like some terrible wave. The intensity was compounded by the fact that I felt the same way myself. Oh, Catherine! My heart still ached from her loss every day even though I had been so very young when she had been killed.

"Do you know who killed my mother!" She demanded again.

My knees buckled and I wavered slightly. Sydney stepped forward swiftly to intervene but I held up a hand. I looked Miss Parker straight into those cool gray eyes.

"No." I answered, my voice somehow remaining steady.

Her disappointment and despair cut through me like a knife.

"However," I continued as I moved forward to take her shoulders in my hands. "I will find out given time and I will make them pay."

Her eyes burned with intense fire as she understood our common purpose. Totally uncharacteristically, she embraced me fiercely.

"My thoughts exactly." She growled in a voice filled with determination and menace.

What was it that we were after - justice or revenge? I had never been able to decide which I desired most. Maybe when it all came down to it, they were the same thing.


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