Disclaimer: See chapter 1.


Defining Connection 9
By Phenyx
07/04/2006

-

"So," Ray said in an almost casual tone. He sat on the floor of the shipping container with his legs crossed, Indian style. "That's Victoria."

"Yes," Fraser answered simply. He remained standing while the others sat. The Mountie seemed not to notice the occasional rocking of the truck as it moved. He shifted slightly as their surroundings did. As a result, Fraser seemed to be completely still, perfectly balanced in the jostling truck.

"She's pretty," Ray added.

Fraser nodded. "She is beautiful."

Ray looked up at his friend. "We're in trouble, aren't we Frase?"

"Yes Ray," The Mountie replied sadly. "Serious trouble. Victoria is capable of heinous acts. There is a terrible darkness in her." His voice wavered as he continued. "I don't know how to stop her," he whispered.

"S'okay, Frase," Ray told him. "Leave that to us."

Fraser lowered his gaze and stared at the floor. "I'm sorry, Ray," he said. "I don't know how to stop… how to not… I still…"

"You still love her," Ray finished for him. "I get that. I do."

"That is insane," Stella interjected. "She held us all at gun point. She has kidnapped us and plans to murder us. How can you still care for her?"

Ray is the one who answered. "Shut up, Stella," he snapped. "You don't understand. You never did."

The blond woman crossed her arms and glared at her ex-husband. "What's to understand?"

"There is love and then there's love," Ray explained. He gestured with his arms as he talked. "A guy gives his heart away like that and there's no getting it back. No matter what bitchy and cruel way it may get treated." He shot Stella a meaningful look.

"You're not really comparing me to that psychotic woman are you?" Stella asked.

"I love you, Stell," Ray said with a sigh. "I've loved you since I was thirteen and you gave me my first kiss. Nothing will change that. Not the divorce, not the cold shoulder you've given me ever since. Not even the fact that you're getting married again. I won't ever stop loving you. I can't.

Fraser gave his heart away," Ray continued. "He can't get it back anymore than I can get mine. It doesn't matter that Victoria is a criminal. It doesn't matter what she's done. He has no choice."

"I don't want to love her," Fraser said quietly.

"Because she frightens you," Jarod spoke up. Miss Parker stared intently at a speck on her pants leg. She was only too conscious of his words as Jarod went on. "She is dangerous," he said. "There are times when you think she's as likely to shoot you as she is to smile at you. And yet, you dream of her. You fantasize about touching her hair, caressing her skin."

Jarod's eyes fluttered shut as he whispered. "You wake from nightmares with the scent of her in your nose. There are times when that scent is her perfume, and others when you wake to the smell of blood."

"You sound like a man who has flirted with that kind of darkness," Ray observed.

Jarod opened his eyes and looked at Ray. "The darkness and I are very well acquainted."

"Jarod," Miss Parker groaned. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep her lip from trembling. Jarod turned toward her and the look they shared spoke volumes.

After a moment, Jarod's face broke into a slow, sad smile. "We understand each other, that darkness and I."

Miss Parker nodded. Jarod alone understood how much that acknowledgement cost her. Inhaling deeply, Miss Parker shook her head and slammed this train of conversation shut by changing the subject. "What does Victoria want with Detective Vecchio?" she asked.

Fraser straightened as a frown darkened his face. "It's rather a long story," he said. "It takes precisely two hours to tell. Three if we go into the details of my convalescence."

"Give us the condensed version," Miss Parker urged.

The Mountie sighed. "There was a bank robbery. I was sent after one of the suspects. I tracked my quarry with all the determination that is required by the R.C.M.P." Fraser relaxed his stiff stance to rub nervously at his eyebrow. "I caught up to her just as a storm was breaking over Fortitude Pass. It snowed for a day and a night and a day. There were no supplies. There was no shelter. We very nearly died."

Fraser looked at Miss Parker. In his eyes she could see the anguish that he was feeling. "I survived on that mountain by focusing on her voice, that angelic voice. How can anyone so cruel have such a lovely voice?"

"Cruelty hides behind many faces," Jarod told him.

Fraser tugged at his ear and nodded. "When the storm ended, I turned her over to the authorities. She begged me to let her go, to forget that I had found her. She begged me."

"But you didn't let her go," Miss Parker guessed.

"No," Fraser said.

Miss Parker and Jarod exchanged another glance. This was hitting too close to the mark for both of them.

"She went to prison for seven years." Fraser swallowed hard. He stared at the wall above their heads, as if making eye contact would make it impossible to continue. "I'd been in Chicago for nearly a year when she came back into my life. She was hurt and very bitter.

"Suffice it to say that before the ordeal was over, she had framed me for theft and murder. She'd shot Diefenbaker and forced me to betray a good friend."

"Ray Vecchio," Jarod said.

"Yes." Fraser's face took on a far away look as he continued. "Still, I would have gone with her. I would have sacrificed everything to get on that train with her."

"Why didn't you?" Jarod asked.

"Ray shot me in the back," Fraser answered in a matter of fact tone. When Jarod and Miss Parker both glanced at the blond detective sitting across from them, Fraser clarified his statement. "Ray Vecchio accidentally shot me. He thought Victoria had a gun. He was aiming for her. I got in the way."

"My God," Stella whispered.

"The way she sees it, Ray Vecchio took everything from her," Jarod said. "Ruined her plans."

Fraser nodded.

"She's going to kill us all, isn't she?" Stella asked.

"That is not her plan," Fraser said. He straightened again, and his gaze met Ray's for a long serious moment. "She will kill you. She will kill all of you once she gets the chance. But me, she does not want dead. Broken, destroyed and suffering yes, but not dead."

"That's good," Jarod murmured. Four pairs of eyes swung to stare at him. "We can use that to our advantage."

"I don't see how," Fraser said with a frown.

"I do." Jarod smiled coldly.

-

Jarod sat on the floor of their makeshift prison. He had his head back against the wall and his eyes were closed. He was in that wavering in between place that wasn't quite sleep. He could hear Ray talking in rapid whispers to Fraser. From across the cargo area Jarod could hear the soft snores of a woman, Stella. He knew it was Stella sleeping to his left because at his right Jarod could feel Miss Parker's presence.

The truck had been traveling for several hours. There had been one stop, undoubtedly for fuel. But even though they had all yelled like mad men (and women) no one had heard their cries. Jarod guessed that Victoria had prearranged the refueling at an isolated location.

At Jarod's side, Miss Parker sighed.

"Are you okay?" Jarod asked, without opening his eyes.

"Just peachy," she hissed.

"Sorry I asked."

With another sigh Miss Parker added, "I tend to get a little cranky when I've been abducted."

Jarod smiled. "I've never managed to get used to it either."

"Argh," Miss Parker growled softly in frustration. Jarod knew without looking that she was dragging her hands through her hair. "Fraser should have let her go," Miss Parker groaned.

Jarod's head jerked up and his eyes popped open. He blinked at Miss Parker. "And surrender everything he believes in?" Jarod gasped. "Constable Fraser was bound by who he is. His job demanded that he turn her over to the authorities."

It was Miss Parker's turn to blink at Jarod in wonder. "I can't believe that you, of all people, feel that way about it."

"Me of all people?" Jarod asked.

Miss Parker's voice dropped to a whisper. "You're always asking me to let you go, to stop chasing you."

"Do you really believe I do it for reasons of self-interest?" Jarod cocked his head at her. After a moment he sighed, "I suppose, in a way, it is selfish on my part. I just want to see you away from that place, Miss Parker. You don't belong there. The Centre is not who you are."

"Jarod," Miss Parker's shoulders sagged. "This is an old argument. The Centre is the only life I've ever had. I don't know any other way."

Jarod leaned in close. His voice was little more than a breath of air into her ear. "You seem to be doing well here in Chicago."

Miss Parker shook her head and looked away.

"Taking a new path can be a frightening thing," Jarod murmured. "I know that. But The Centre offers you nothing but darkness and death."

"It is what I know," Miss Parker told him. "And I'm awfully good at it."

"But there is so much more to you than that." Jarod reached out, not quite touching her. His fingertips were close enough to her cheek that Miss Parker could feel heat tingling on her skin. "There is such warmth and compassion inside you. You have to work so very hard to smother it."

"No," Miss Parker denied. "You're imagining things, seeing what you want to see."

Jarod smiled sadly. "I have proof," he murmured.

Miss Parker's head swung around to stare at him in surprise.

"I'm still here," he added, as if that statement explained everything. Miss Parker frowned and shook her head in confusion. Jarod continued, "Like our friend Ray, I once kissed a girl and was forever lost. You know that, you've always known that.

Yet you've never used it against me. You've never lied to me or tried to manipulate me. Lyle and Raines both did. Hell, even Sydney has tried something along those lines. But not you, the one person who could have talked me into coming back voluntarily has never even tried."

Miss Parker scoffed. "Nothing I could ever say would convince you to come back."

"That's not true," Jarod argued quietly. "Promises of equal partnership, of collaboration, affection, such offers from you would be very difficult to turn down."

"You're talking about sex," she hissed.

"You've slept with men for lesser reasons," Jarod said knowingly.

Miss Parker looked away. Jarod was right. For years she had used her sexuality as a weapon against other men. Thomas Gates had taught her differently for a while. Since his death, Miss Parker had cast aside her promiscuous behavior, but that did not diminish the truth of Jarod's words.

"I wouldn't do that to you," she said quietly.

"I know." Jarod's voice was laced with affection. "Like I said – Proof. You don't belong there."

"Maybe you're just not my type." Miss Parker shot back, bristling at his tone.

"Nah," Jarod said. "I'm exactly your type."

Miss Parker glared at him. "What is that exactly?"

Jarod's lips curled with mischief. "A little dangerous, a little wild, terribly good-looking."

Realizing that she was being teased, Miss Parker shoved Jarod away from her in disgust. "Get over yourself, Franken-rat."

"I can try," Jarod laughed out loud when Miss Parker punched him in the arm. "But you're asking me to overcome a pretty big ego. I'm special you know, with greatly sought after talents."

"Get away from me!" Miss Parker told him. She hit him playfully several times and Jarod cringed with appropriate submissiveness. "You lunatic," she growled.

Jarod grinned. He could almost see the walls between him and Miss Parker crumbling into dust. Things were getting better, much better. All he had to do now was get them both out of this truck alive.

-

End chapter 9