Disclaimer: The Pretender belongs to its respective intellectual property owners.

The Promise

by

Starclipper01

He ran and ran. Away from what he saw on the DSA, away from the horror of his father murdering Catherine Parker, and away from her daughter's accusing and pain-filled eyes.

Her eyes. Those gorgeous blue-gray orbs that were the windows to her soul. They were what first caught his attention when they were introduced to each other as part of another sordid Centre experiment.

They reflected her childhood innocence, friendship, trust, and compassion. A creation of her angelic mother. Then her eyes changed after Catherine was murdered in front of her. Now, he saw distrust, betrayal, pain, and loneliness. Miss Parker had grown up. A creation of her satanic father.

He ran until, finally, he stopped running. For two years he ran from the Centre, always afraid of being dragged back to be their prized Pretender yet again. He could have severed all of his connections to the Centre.

He could have stopped seeking the comforting and reassuring words of Sydney, his father figure for over thirty years.

He could have cut the bond that Angelo provided since they were children. But he would not. Lifelong friends, Jarod would never abandon Angelo to the tender mercies of the Centre.

And her. Miss Parker. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could feel his heart beat faster every time he thought about her or being in her presence. She was his best friend when they were growing up in the hell that was the Centre.

He smiled at the memories of her boldly dragging him to off-limits areas of the Centre. Always methodical, as trained by Sydney, he would hesitate but Miss Parker would impatiently grab his hand and took off for their next adventure. To hell with the consequences. That part of Parker's personality stayed with her as she grew up into the beautiful huntress that nipped at his heels.

Miss Parker. The best friend who entrusted him with her first name. A privilege that not even Sydney or Angelo enjoyed. The best friend who gave the special gift of his first kiss from a girl.

Their childhood adventures, their absolute trust in each other, and the comfort they both felt in each others arms as the pain and misery of growing up in the shadow of the Centre slowly manifested itself to create a connection that was diamond hard.

You can bend it, twist it, pound it but their connection would remain unbroken. Parker and Jarod both knew it and felt it because at various points in their lives, they tried to deny it, to ignore it, to wish it away but always something like a smell, a sound or a person vaguely resembling their other half would suddenly remind them about the missing piece of their souls.

And they would yearn, howl, desire, and rage at their connection thanks to the cruel manipulations of the Centre.

If Miss Parker had been trained to listen to her Inner Sense as her mother planned, she might have heard the sounds of Catherine Parker weeping over the state of their relationship. From a wonderful and beautiful childhood friendship to the haunted and hunted relationship the now grownup Jarod and Parker shared.

But Miss Parker was denied the opportunity and both she and Jarod were trapped in a hell that the Centre created and controlled.

The soulless men and women of the Centre and their masters at the Triumvirate thought everything was going splendidly according to their plans except for the unfortunate escape of Jarod but even his escape didn't stopped their goals or plans. But they were wrong. They overlooked one variable.

Jarod and Miss Parker together.

He ran. Until he stopped. He stared at her house. His heart was beating like there was no tomorrow. Jarod felt like he was on the verge of hyperventilating. His feet felt both like lead and light as a feather. How, he vaguely thought, could he feel both scared and hopeful at the same time?

The adult Jarod, the one that escaped from the Centre, wanted to run as far from this house as possible but the lonely little boy, befriended by a warm, caring little girl, promised to be there for her no matter what. The lonely boy made the grown up man stay.

But the grown up man made sure that the little boy was safe as much as possible. Jarod scanned the neighborhood earlier by posing as a gas meter reader. There were no sweepers waiting to capture him. He also tricked the surveillance devices that had Miss Parker under observation ever since he escaped. The Centre never forgot their childhood friendship.

It was now or never, he thought as he emerged from his hiding place and crossed the street. He stopped before her front door and rang the doorbell. And waited. The wait wasn't very long.

The door opened quickly and there she was looking at him with pain and hate in her eyes. Dressed in jeans and a blue silk shirt, she gave the impression that she was having a relaxing night but he observed with a sharp gaze that she had her 9mm pistol pointing straight at him unwaveringly.

"You have some goddamn nerve to come here, you son of a bitch," Miss Parker hissed. Her eyes were red from crying. "Come to gloat over your father murdering my mother? Huh, Jarod? What, no fancy comeback, labrat?"

Jarod almost staggered at the intensity of Parker's wrath. His pretender skills were useless now. Where she was concerned he could never pretend with her. Never.

The silence stretched between them as Jarod tried to gather his jumbled thoughts but Parker, with her trademark impatience, seized him and dragged him into the house.

What was to transpire between them she wanted no one to see.

Enraged that Jarod was not responding to her, she hit him across the mouth with her pistol. Parker was perversely happy to see him with a split lip that was oozing blood down his chin. Now he can literally taste just a bit of her overwhelming pain.

Finally, she heard him speak. But what she heard threw ice water on her grief and anger. "Kill me, Parker," he asked of her. "Since my father isn't here for you to punish, I guess I'm the only substitute available."

Jarod can feel the blood trickling down his chin into his black t-shirt but he ignored it as well as the throbbing pain in his jaw where Ms. Parker pistol-whipped him. He continued to speak to her.

Pointing to his head and his heart, he told her, "To make sure that I'm dead, Miss Parker, you have to shoot me in the head or the heart but I recommend that you shoot me in both spots to ensure that your mother is avenged."

The little girl was screaming and fighting to be heard. She wouldn't let the grown up woman kill her best friend.

The grown up Parker wanted to unleash her pent up anger, grief, hate and disappointments onto the only person the Center allowed her to target, to hate, and to hunt. To make Jarod feel the humiliation she had to endured as she relentlessly pursued him over the last two years. The practical jokes, the gifts, and the late night phone calls that made her angry, his attempts to break through her icy walls, she wanted to pay him back in spades.

Her skills and training, courtesy of Mr. Parker and the Centre, made her the best and brightest among the denizens of the Centre. They knew it. Daddy knew it. She knew it. Even Jarod knew it.

The one person who was as good at excelling anything he set his mind to. Just like her. That was why chasing Jarod was so intoxicating and thrilling. There was no other man who could get her competitive juices going, no other man who pushed her to her limits and beyond, and no other man who captured her heart like Jarod.

Together, they would have made a formidable and unstoppable team. That was the sole reason why the Centre and the Triumvirate went to such extremes to keep them apart.

Miss Parker's faith and trust in Jarod was shaken when she saw the DSA of his father murdering her mother. That was why she shot at him as Mr. Fenigore's revelation sunk in after the initial shock. The woman who shot at Jarod had none of the little girl's warm-hearted spirit but only what the Centre created. A cold, remorseless puppet whose strings were pulled by dark and merciless specters.

"Kill you?" asked Ms. Parker in a shocked tone. She was thinking that she was hearing things, hoping it was the effect of all the scotch she consumed since the discovery of who was her mother's murderer.

"Yes, Miss Parker. That is what you desire, right?" Jarod softly answered with a parody of a smile.

Parker shifted her stance into a more stable firing position. The heartless Centre creation within her was already thinking of the phrase "not looking a gift horse in the mouth". She was already fantasizing about dragging Jarod's body through the lobby of the Centre. No more snide comments, stifled laughter, mocking remarks about her not catching Jarod from Lyle, Raines, and Daddy.

But the little girl was frightened for Jarod. She needed to know why he would commit such a suicidal act. "Why, Jarod," asked Parker in a strained whisper.

Jarod could see the struggle in her eyes as well as feel it through his connection with her. "A long time ago, I made a promise to my best friend that I would be with her whenever she needed my help, no matter what." There, he thought. No lies, no deceptions. Only the truth. Peace descended onto his tormented soul. Now he waited. For a bullet or for…

The adult woman and the little girl saw and felt the sense of peace and calm enveloping Jarod.

The struggle within Parker was more violent and lasted much longer, years in fact, than the battle between the boy Jarod and the man Jarod. But tonight both of them knew their dilemma would end one way or another. To be together like Catherine dreamed of or be forever torn apart like Daddy, the Centre, and the Triumvirate desired.

Raised by a cold and indifferent father, whose affections she desperately sought after her mother's death, she allowed herself to be molded by her father and, by extension, the Centre. This creation of the Centre was threatened by Jarod's words. But for the little Miss Parker, happiness and joy radiated outward. He remembered, she exulted. The warmth and light was starting to melt the icy walls entombing the Centre's creature. It was losing the fight. But it would not leave quietly.

Parker stepped forward until her gun made contact with Jarod's body. The gun was pointing right at his heart. Just like he suggested. She looked at him. His eyes, she wondered as she looked at them. So expressive. Always had been since she first met him. Those warm, caring brown eyes that she found so captivating.

She didn't know that their first meeting was a Centre experiment. She vividly remembered that day as if it was yesterday. Her father telling her that he was taking her to meet someone special and she was to be on her best behavior. She felt the pounding excitement of her Daddy's pronouncement. He was entrusting her to do something important, something grownup.

She remembered descending down in the elevator with her father and his entourage to the sub-level that held Jarod. Parker feeling the cold touch of her father as he took her hand and steadily led her forward to the entrance of the Simlab, letting her hand go and firmly pushed her forward towards Jarod.

Miss Parker still remembered the nervousness and anxiety she felt as she hesitantly approached the glass bubble that Jarod was encased in. She didn't know what to expect or how to act in his presence but those uncertainties disappeared as she felt captured by Jarod's eyes.

Something that existed inside her awoken when she looked at him. Confidently, she stepped up to the glass barrier that separated them. She ignored her father, the people in the shadows coldly observing this meeting between their prized property and the Chairman's daughter, and Sydney mentally writing down notes about Jarod's first encounter with a member of the opposite sex.

But Jarod and Miss Parker didn't know about these thoughts and actions of the Centre's denizens. For a brief moment in time, the only thing that existed was just them. A sense of wonder and enthrallment engulfed these two young and innocent children. Their lifelong connection began with this meeting.

Parker remembered him asking if she was an angel and she told him quite clearly that she wasn't. She couldn't decide whether it was Jarod's eyes or the warmth of his smile that got her heart fluttering. Growing up, some days she would tell herself it was his eyes but other days she would say that it was his smile.

After answering him about not being an angel, she recalled seeing him hesitantly reaching his right hand out to touch her. Unhesitatingly, and with absolute trust, Parker stretched out with her right hand also. She watched Jarod while he looked at her as their hands touched…the glass barrier.

In spite of the barrier between them, the symbol of their relationship, the connection was there. Both of them knew it by the look that passed between Jarod and Parker. No one else in the room knew about it. If they did, it would be just another way to manipulate and control them. Only Sydney would suspect but it would take him decades before the suspicion ever coalesced.

Miss Parker recalled that both of them stayed that way for what, for her, was forever until she felt the unyielding grip of Mr. Parker pulling her away from Jarod. She kept looking back at him, stumbling over herself as she struggled to look back at the mysterious boy locked behind the glass cage.

Miss Parker would never let the murderous bastards of the Centre know how grateful she was for them in introducing her to Jarod. That wonderful, generous, and caring man. It was the only decent thing that the heartless monsters of the Centre have ever done for her that she can think of.

Jarod's heart was aching as he saw the torment in Parker's blue-gray eyes. He just wanted to pull her to him and hold her forever, if it came to it, to get rid of all the pain and grief she borne on her shoulders all by herself. But he couldn't, no matter how badly he wanted to. Jarod knew that if they were ever to have a future together, Parker would have to find a way to bring his childhood friend and the Centre's creation together and end the civil war that was waging inside her.

When she, at last, looked at Jarod's eyes, the war within her ended. Seeing the love and care in his eyes which she always wanted to see from her father but never did, caused her to slowly lower her gun down and let it drop onto the floor. Tears started to flow down her cheeks.

"Jarod," she pleaded. Her cry for help, for trying to understand why pain and suffering were her constant companions, for her refuge from the storm she was drowning in.

Jarod quickly put his arms around her in a protective embrace. What both secretly dreamt of when they were children became reality as both felt the warmth of each other's bodies. They were together again. This time no one and nothing would ever tear them apart.

"Parker," compassion and love poured out of him as he whispered comforting words to her. He also was crying along with her. Sharing her pain as well as his, too.

One of his hands was in her lush brown hair while his other hand was rubbing the small of her back, trying to sooth her. He inhaled her scent, a mixture that he couldn't describe in words adequately enough. It was just Parker. The way he remembered from the few times that they were able to embrace each other in their youth.

Sniffling, rubbing the tears from her eyes, Parker looked at Jarod. "I'm sorry, Jarod, for shooting at you." She was appalled at letting her fury over the discovery Catherine Parker's murderer was Jarod's father color her feelings for Jarod himself. She knew that he would never have done anything like that. Irrationally, she placed Jarod in the role of his father at the scene of Catherine's murder. She was remorseful for losing her control and she wasn't going to excuse herself by pinning it on the shock of Mr. Fenigore's revelation.

Hugging her closer to him, he told her, "It wasn't your fault, Parker. It was a natural reaction to finding out who your mother's murderer was." While he comforted this wonderful woman, his guts were still churning over his father killing Miss Parker's mother. Or did he?

Questions swirled through his mind like why did his father murder Catherine, how did he gain entry into the tightly guarded Centre complex, how did he escape the gauntlet right after the murder, and where was he now. Jarod desperately needed answers, not just for him but for his best friend.

The love of his life. That phrase he read in countless books growing up in the cocoon of the Centre and after his escape when he needed something to read to escape the nightmares at night. He didn't understood what it really meant. Sydney tried to convey the meaning but his own messed up love life prevented him from doing it. But now, with Miss Parker in his arms and clutching tightly to him for dear life, he finally understood what that phrase meant. She made him whole.

Nia, Samantha, and the other women that he encountered while on the run from the Centre brought out feelings in him but not the feelings he was experiencing now as he closed his eyes and savor the warmth that Parker gave off in his arms. This is what love is, he mused. Nothing matters but her happiness and welfare. He would do anything for her.

Is this love, Parker wondered as she was wrapped up in his arms. She heard Jarod whispering words of love and assurance. A gentle, loving man. She closed her eyes in contentment and bliss.

Jarod. Her dream man. Every man she ever flirted with, dated, and slept with paled against him. Her childhood dreams and adult fantasies were now a fact. He was here with her, in her arms, his heart beating against her. Here for her. Just like he promised.

She squeezed him tightly. Looking into his deep brown eyes with love and concern for her, for her, she told him, "I, I don't think your father would have murdered my mother." Pausing to brush her hand through his mane of hair, she continued, "If he's anything like you, than there's no reason for him to shoot Momma."

Jarod swallowed hard. She was willing to give his father the benefit of the doubt. Gently, he cupped her face and stared at those wondrous blue gray eyes of hers. "For all of my life, I always placed my faith in you, now you've shown that I was proven right." He stopped and placed his warm lips onto hers. The second kiss of their lives.

Surprise turned to delight as she felt Jarod's lips kissing hers. Then, she felt the taste of his blood. Mortified, she quickly pulled away from his embrace. "Jarod, you're lip. It's still bleeding," she exclaimed.

"It's alright, Marlene," he said, using her first name. He pressed a couple of fingers to his split lip. Jarod watched as Parker went into the kitchen and came back quickly with a wet towel.

Jarod removed his fingers and stood still as Parker placed the towel on his lips. "Hold still, Jarod," she commanded in a no nonsense voice. "It might sting."

It did sting momentarily then as she pressed the towel slightly harder, he could feel the blood stopped flowing. "Thank you," he murmured.

"You're welcome, Jarod," Parker replied. She carefully lifted the towel from his lips. Placing the towel on a nearby end table, she turned back to scrutinize him.

"You used my first name," she told him, pleased that he remembered but uncomfortable at the same time.

"Yes, a beautiful name for the most beautiful woman in the world," he agreed, gently pulling her back against his body again.

Parker felt his sincerity. Looking up at Jarod, smiling, "Coming from the most handsomest man in the world, I'll take that as a compliment."

He returned her smile. Jarod felt his heart swell when she told him how handsome he was. He bent to nuzzle her neck. "Thank you, Marlene."

A contented silence descended on this love struck couple. Denied the simple pleasure of touching each other, both traced each other's body's, savoring the feel of the other.

Jarod and Marlene inhaled each other scent, memorizing each other's unique smell.

They couldn't get enough of each other. Not after the Centre deprived them of any opportunity to express their love for the other.

Until now.

Both recalled every precious moment they ever had together as children before they were torn apart. Few and far apart they were but when they were together, it felt right and natural, like two halves of a single heart, a single soul.

Parker never wanted to be apart from her Jarod ever again. Jarod never wanted to run away from his Marlene.

Together, they arrived at the same conclusion and voiced it to the other.

Tilting her head to look at her man, Parker voiced what was in her heart, "I love you, Jarod. Now and forever." She thought it would be hard to say those three little words. But it was easy once she was in Jarod's tender hold.

Jarod was captured by her bold expressive eyes and his soul lurched when he heard her say that she loved him. With equal fervor he responded passionately to her, "I love you, too, Marlene. For all eternity."

They kissed each other, signaling their commitment to each other. The kiss held the hint of what was to come but they broke it off before it went deeper.

Jarod and Parker just looked at each other, burning the image of each other's faces into their heart and soul.

Then abruptly a new noise was heard in Parker's house. Something that haven't been heard since their childhood.

Laughter.

Delighted, happy, triumphant, and wonder filled laughter erupted between this couple.

They have beaten the odds. The machinations of the Centre, her Daddy's emotional abuse, and the Triumvirate's cold equations. Jarod and Marlene were together, in love, and ready to meet their destiny.

Together, as a team.

Just like the Centre and the Triumvirate feared all those years ago.

As the laughter slowly faded away, Parker asked what was in her mind. "Now what, Jarod?"

Jarod looked at their entwined hands before responding. It was real, in flesh and blood. His dream. They were real. He gathered his thoughts then answered her, "First, we tracked down my father and find out what role, if any, he had in your mother's death." Pausing, he knew what he was going to say was going to be difficult. "Next, I want you to come with me. Run away from the Centre." He stroked her right cheek. "You deserve to be free."

No one did what Jarod just told her. He would help her find out who murdered her mother. To help her find the answers that has haunted her. She never loved Jarod more than at that point. He was putting her interests first. That had never happened to her. Always it was other people's interests that came first. Never hers.

Slowly, by silent consent, they went over and sat down on her sofa. Parker cuddled up to Jarod with her hands on his chest. Sighing softly, she replied, "We got a lot to do then." Running her fingers along his rugged chest, she continued, "It's going to be hard to find your father when he doesn't want to be found. We'll need Broots to help us with the search."

"I know," squeezing her reassuringly. "With his help and my skills," Jarod replied confidently, "we should find him in no time." Jarod was about to ask how she felt about going away with him when she pre-empted him.

"Yes."

"Yes?" Jarod asked quietly, not trying to pressure her into anything.

Parker turned around in his arms to look at him directly. "Yes, I'll go with you. I'll be by your side because I know that you'll be by mine." She started to tear up as she resumed, "We'll be together, Jarod. Free to give in to our hearts desires."

Jarod softly wiped the tears from her eyes. He leaned down and kissed her. Parker returned his kiss with an ardor that she never shown to any other man.

When they finally had to break apart to catch their breath, Jarod smiled broadly, "I'm glad I kept my promise to you, Marlene."

Returning his smile with a matching one of her own, "I'm glad that you did, sweetheart."

A/N: This was something I wrote off and on a while back. I decided to finish this story since my muse deserted me on my next chapter to my story, "The Fall".

This is sugary and sweet. Too much for some. Oh, well. I am a JMP shipper so, of course, it's going to be too romantic. :-

Please read and review! Thanks!