A/N: Sorry this took so long, but real life seems to be plotting against me. However, this chapter is longer than the ones I have done in the past. I certainly hope it was worth the wait.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own the Pretender, because if I did, things wouldn't have ended with an almost kiss! The point is, no profit is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.
The Evolution of ThingsChapter 8
By M. Rose
While balancing a tray with one hand, he opened the door with the other and walked into the room. She was nowhere in sight and his first instinct was to panic, but he fought the urge and simply lowered the tray onto a corner of the bed. Making sure the revolver was where he could snatch it at a moments notice, he calmly picked up the steaming mug, and opened a second door. All of the bedrooms were in the back of the cabin, thus had doors leading to a spacious back porch.
His tense muscles relaxed immediately when he spotted her.
He sighed, wondering if there would ever be a day when he wouldn't have to be so cautious, but that was a futile dream. Even if the Centre burnt down to a pile of ash tomorrow, he would never feel safe, too many years of running and paranoia saw to that.
When it appeared that she hadn't noticed his presence, he took the opportunity to observe her. Her pasty white skin and impossibly thin frame was enough to worry about, but it was her mental state that truly concerned him. The keen awareness that had kept her alive at the Centre for so long seemed absent now as she sat unaware of his presence. Seeing her so defeated and lost, he realized that she needed to not only recover physically, but mentally as well.
Perhaps he could help, if she'd let him.
"I um … thought you might like some tea." She turned her head to face him as he handed her a mug. She looked at the mug and then fixed her blue-gray eyes on him as he nodded for her to take it. She accepted the steaming brew and stated, "I'm more of a Scotch girl, but I'm guessing our choices are limited here." She paused for a moment, sipped her tea and asked, "So, what should I call you? Major Charles, Major, Mr. Russell …"
He raised his hand to stop her, "Charles is fine."
Although, Jarod was adamant about her staying in bed until she was stronger, she insisted she was going stir crazy and wanted to get some fresh air. His son finally yielded to her constant persistence and that is how she ended up in her current position, reclined in a large deck chair on the back porch with a thick and comfy looking quilt engulfing her slim frame.
"Well then, thank you, Charles."
"You're welcome, Miss Parker." He sat down into the chair next to hers. "How are you feeling?"
"Just peachy." She spat. "I've dedicated my life to a place that thrives on exploitation and deception. Oh, you might as well throw in brainwashing while you're at it. All in the name of … power." She flashed him a smile as she stated, "You know, I could have been a lawyer?" It faded and she turned her focus back on the majestic scenery that surrounded them, "that was until Daddy found out. Come to think of it, it was the only time he actually visited me at school …" she stopped, lost in thoughts of a life completely out of her control.
When he first heard about Miss Parker's mission to hunt Jarod down and return him to the place that had imprisoned and used him, it both saddened and angered him that the daughter Catherine so adored turned out to be just another cold-hearted Centre lackey doing her father's bidding. So he was not surprised when his first encounter with the Chairman's daughter was with a gun to his head. Later on, when she confronted him about her mother's death, he could see the desperation and grief of a woman longing to know the truth.
Something had happened to her, between then and now, and he was pretty sure his son had a lot to do with it.
"It will get better, Miss Parker."
"I find that hard to believe. Especially when I need Wonderboy to help me out of the bed."
Charles leaned down just enough to get her attention. When she turned her focus on him, he said, "Give it time, Miss Parker. You'll see. You'll be up and around in no time."
She turned her head, focusing back on the picturesque view, "I don't have the patience to play doctor with Jarod. Where is he anyway? He's been annoyingly hovering over me since I … since this morning."
"He stepped out to get some provisions."
"Ah, so it's your turn to baby sit, eh?"
"Actually, I was hoping this would give us a chance to get to know each other."
Suddenly the vulnerability he was exposed to was gone as she gave him a piercing glare. "Cut through the pleasantry bullshit, Charles. What is it you really want to ask me?"
Caught off guard by the sudden change in Miss Parker's demeanor, he paused for a moment to decide his next move.
There was something he wanted to know.
"Why did you suddenly decide to become Jarod's co-conspirator after years of doing nothing but hunting him like piece of property?" As she opened her mouth to answer, he added, "Besides the fact the Centre has done nothing but destroy innocent lives."
Eyes wide, she asked in a harsh tone, "What are you mean?"
"How do you feel about Jarod?"
"He's a pain in my ass."
He smirked a bit at her answer, but she was dancing around the subject and he needed to know.
"That's not what I mean. Do you love him?"
Now she was the one caught off guard, "What? That's … that's none of your business."
"It is my business, Miss Parker, because my son is in love with you."
Disbelieving, she almost whispered, "He told you that?"
"Words aren't necessary when actions are so loud and clear. My boy risked everything … his freedom, the chance to ever see his family again, to make sure you were out of harms way. He didn't sleep a wink until he was able to come up with an antidote and even afterwards he was scared that he might have gotten it all wrong and that you would die despite all his efforts. Those are signs of a man willing to do whatever it takes for the woman he loves."
"Those are signs of a lunatic on a suicide mission." Flustered with his frankness, "Wh … why are you telling me this?"
"Like I said, I want to know how you feel about my son."
"We … have … a complicated relationship."
"I noticed."
From the moment Charles arrived at the cabin, it was apparent the feelings Jarod had for the woman were quite strong. He saw further evidence early yesterday morning when Jarod's conversation with Miss Parker began to turn towards the personal. But even he was surprised by the surge of emotions emanating between the two. It was obvious to him that they had an unusual relationship. And from the tears that ran down her face before he decided to give them privacy, he guessed she cared for him too, but he wanted to be sure.
"He doesn't understand; the Centre is all I know. All my life, I've been trained to hate him, capture him and … and he," she falters, "he's so damn stubborn. I just can't switch years of training off like that. Why doesn't he just disappear? The Centre would give up, eventually."
"He wants to know that his life hasn't been a complete waste. That he can right the wrongs they made him do and maybe, just maybe capture the elusive hope of a family, of a life without running."
"He's a fool."
"Do you really believe that? Don't you want to same things? To stop the pain and suffering they've inflicted upon you your entire life? Taking the people you love away from you?"
As she turned her head out of view and wiped a stray tear running down her cheek, she spat, "Look, it doesn't matter. This is the life I have and nothing can change that."
"Whether you wanted it to or not, the fact of the matter is that it has, Miss Parker. The Centre is willing to do what it takes to make sure you are dead and that Jarod is captured."
With her head still turned away from him she said tiredly, "I've had enough with this heart-to-heart talk. I'd like some time alone if you don't mind."
He nodded, "Okay," he got up to leave, but before he entered the cabin, he turned and added. "I am sorry if I caused any distress on your part."
She waved her hand in dismissal, "Don't worry about it." He nodded as he took the now empty mug, but as he walked away he swore he heard her say, "Thanks." He wasn't sure if she meant the tea or the conversation, but it didn't matter, he smiled as he entered the cabin. He gained a little insight into Miss Parker's soul and he hoped he had helped her too in the process.
He failed to notice the tall, dark, looming figure in the room.
