AN: The questions keep popping up, don't they? ;) Thank you for your reviews! I've broken this chapter into two parts in order to get it out quicker, so for everyone looking for Jarod and Miss Parker in bigger roles- hang on!

LJP: She should know him that is true- good observation. In order to answer your questions, we have to look at why Mia is back at the Centre and what Cox and Raines did/are doing to her. And we will… soon. ;) Oh, and welcome to the fold; glad to have you.

Rev2004: Continuing on… :)

Gemini-M: Poor Kip is right- he's headed for some serious trouble! Some of your questions will be answered in this chapter; others will be answered…soon!

Phi4858: You could never bore me with your questions! Can't say too much- don't want to give anything away, but Jarod has not yet met Kip or his friends. He is currently in Illinois as Miss Parker is about to find out…

Imag1ne: Thank you- I'm glad you liked who the "husband" turned out to be.

Leochick: I wonder if anyone thought it was Cox who caught Amelia- I almost went in that direction.

Wondergirl: Thank you! ;)

Lyrics by David Bowie

Chapter occurs during "Rules of Engagement" in the fourth season. Sections marked + denote a scene from an actual episode. Dialogue might have a word or so off- some of the words were hard to understand (I transcribed from VHS tapes). I turned up the volume only to be blasted by the music later on!

Chapter 3: "Jump!" They Say

"Hello, Melpomene." Mr. Cox's grin was grotesque. He held out his hand to her. "We're going out," he announced, watching her reaction closely.

She regarded him warily, unsure of whether to bite him or hide from him. "Out?" It sounded like a trap.

"Dinner," his voice was too smooth, too reserved. "But first we need to find you something suitable to wear."

Three hours later, she was dining in one of the ritziest places she'd ever been, at least as far as she could remember. Mr. Cox had taken her to the theatre before dinner and she was still swimming from all the glamour and splendor that had intoxicated for the better part of two hours. It was a sweet change from running Simulations in the bowels of the Centre. She sighed dreamily.

They were waiting for dessert to be brought out when Cox, who had eaten little, leaned close to her- too close.

"Do you see the gray-haired man in the three-piece suit?" His breath was hot and weighty on her neck. Unwillingly, she scanned the patrons and zeroed in on the man in question. She nodded.

"The man has a computer chip concealed in the inner pocket of his dinner jacket. Get it. Use any means necessary to retrieve it."

"B-but I," she could string a coherent thought together. She was stunned. I must not be out of the Centre after all, she thought frantically trying to make sense of what she was being asked to do. This is a Simulation- it has to be!

"I have no weapons!"

"Any means necessary," he repeated placing imperative emphasis on each word. "Get the chip then head to the kitchen. There is a hallway to your immediate left. Take that and follow the hall to its end. There will be a door leading to the alley. A car will be waiting for you. Five minutes, Melpomene. Or we leave without you."

Dazed, she slowly shook her head side to side. "No, I can't do this. Please…"

"Five minutes. Wait until I leave if you would."

He disappeared before she could respond, leaving her with no options. Her eyes went back to the man and assessed the situation. He was slightly tipsy, sure to be off his game. As she stood, she slipped a steak knife into the folds of her skirt. Her training took over as she approached the target.

At first the man was flattered that such a pretty young thing would flirt with him. He pegged her as a tease but quickly found she was anything but. A searing pain penetrated the flesh between his fourth and fifth vertebrae.

"Give me the chip," she hissed into his ear. Her hair fell over his left shoulder, blocking them from the guest on that side of the room. From the distance, nothing seemed abnormal, but the man's dinner companions were shocked.

"My men are everywhere," he swore at her. "You won't get out of here alive."

In response, the knife slid further between the bones. The man fought not to cry out. "That'll make two of us, then. Give me the chip."

The man conceded and slowly opened his jacket and retrieved the chip. In a moment's time, she withdrew the weapon from the man and cast it aside. She quick, but so were his men. They were armed heavily but held their fire until they were away from the main reception area. Her training mode fell away as her survival mode took control. She followed Cox's exit directions, but there was no door at the end of the hall.

She was trapped. It had all been a set up.

The men were almost upon her and she could see no way out. Lighting was minimal so she searched the walls and floors for any exit. Her fingers caught on the grating of a ventilation shaft. Luck was with her, as the bolts of the grate had rusted through and she was able to pry it off. It was high- nearly two feet above her head. She barely had enough time to make a running jump and pull herself into the shaft before the hall was filled with gunfire. Scrambling through the ventilation system she had a strange sense of déjà vu. There was an outlet that exited into the alley.

The car was waiting as he said it would be.

She was livid when she got into the vehicle. Cox only chuckled amusedly.

"Did you get the chip?"

She handed it over, glaring murderously at him.

"Good girl."

"You set me up! I could have been killed!"

He arched an eyebrow at her, still smiling that devious smile. "But you weren't."

"That's not the point!"

"Ah, but it is," he patted her knee lightly. "Tonight was a success."

Tears pricked her eyes and she stared out of the window, watching the passing city lights.

Tonight was a success… for whom?

+ Broots was rather pleased with himself and it showed in his smile.

"Call Lyle," his boss directed as they prepared to leave.

"I already have- he's on his way."

Parker followed Sydney and Broots with a preoccupied grimace on her face. The abrupt ringing of her cell phone caused her jump slightly.

"What?"

"Angel? Angel, I have to see you."

She nearly had a coronary on the spot. "Daddy?" After all this time, after all she'd been through when she needed him most and now he was calling. She was torn between crying with relief that he was alive or hanging up on him for not contacting her sooner.

"I have to see you," he said again. "The junkyard by the Quentin Street Overpass."

She wasn't positive he had heard him correctly. "Well, Daddy…"

The connection had been severed.

"You look bothered, Miss Parker."

Parker whirled around and was slapped with another surprise- a very unpleasant one: Raines.

What crevice did he slither out of? It troubled her immensely that Raines might have overheard her conversation with her father- there was no telling how long he been there in the shadows.

"Don't you have a bake sale to organized?" As usual she didn't attempt to mask her contempt.

When Sydney and Broots reentered the room in search of their missing partner, the doctor knew instantly that something was wrong. Parker was standing alone in the middle of the area looking exceptionally disconcerted. His worry only increased when she announced that she had something to do- something other than pursuing Jarod.

"What about Jarod?" Broots hazarded, shooting a puzzled look to Sydney.

Sydney studied her bemusedly. "What about Lyle?"

She looked at them without seeing them. She had no excuse prepared, nothing plausible, not even any thing lame. "Buy me some time," was all she had.

Sydney sighed. Buying time from Lyle was not going to be easy. +

Cold fire- you've got everything but cold fire… You will be my rest and peace, child…I moved up to take a place near you…

When he received word that the search for Jarod had been delayed due to unspecified reasons he was actually relieved. It gave him enough time to escape to his apartment.

She was asleep when he came, just as she had been when he left hours before. Her face was marred by a deep frown and every so often she mewed plaintively.

He moved closer to the foot of the bed, apprehensive and ready to bolt. Timidly, he sat on the edge of the bed and just watched her.

This isn't real…It can't be real…

Her long hair was fanned out over two pillows. He smiled appreciatively. Or would have. In his anxiety, the smile didn't quite make it to his face.

Her eyelashes fluttered as she struggled to wake. When her eyes finally opened, it took several for her to focus on him. There was a pained intensity in her steel gray eyes, an indication of the headache throbbing between her ears.

"Mia?" His voice was hushed, almost timid. He had no way to predict how she would react to him and that left him open and vulnerable. She had been taken from him by Cox the second they arrived back in Blue Cove. Cox returned her to him thirty-six hours later under heavy sedation without so much as an explanation as to why her isolation was necessary.

Her brow furrowed as she tried to keep his features in focus. She wasn't quite sure who he was or why he looked afraid of her.

"Mia, please try to wake up."

The urgency in his voice triggered something in her haze-filled mind. She tried harder to concentrate on his features. From her point of view, everything was underwater and filled with smoke at the same time. She felt ill.

So tired- it's the sky that makes you feel tired… It's a trick to make you see wide… It can all but break your heart in pieces…

"Mia," his head dropped to his chest as his voice faded. Inhaling deeply, he tried again to talk to her. "I know you're tired, but can you remember what happened yesterday? Can you remember anything?"

Her eyes closed again but the frown remained. Several minutes passed and as they did anxiety and tension reached culmination. His head dropped to his chest again as his thumb and forefinger pinched the bridge of his nose trying to hold off the pressure building behind his eyes.

"Micelli."

"What?" He looked up sharply.

"My last name. I remember my last name."

"Well, it's a start," he muttered dolefully.

Typical Amelia, she instantly picked up that something was wrong. "Isn't that right?" she asked concerned.

Staying back in your memory are the movies in the past… How you moved is all it takes to sing a song of when I loved The Prettiest Star…

"Yeah," he conceded. "It's just that…" He ground his teeth together in annoyance. He should be satisfied that she was regaining something of her identity. However, it was a blow to his pride that she remembered her family name rather than her legal surname. "Micelli is your maiden name. Technically, your last name is Parker."

"Parker…" The name fell off her tongue with vague familiarity. She knew it, but could not attach significance to it. She groaned.

"I'm sorry." She stretched out a hand to him only to find that he was too far away and she didn't have the strength to move to reach him. "How long have we been married?"

"Almost three weeks," he replied flatly. He tipped his head back. "But you don't remember yesterday much less three weeks ago."

One day, though it might as well be someday, you and I will rise up all the way… All because of what you are: The Prettiest Star…

She felt responsible for her memory loss, whether it was reasonable feel that way or not. "I am so, so sorry." She exhaled a long breath as though trying to expel the air that had accumulated in her lungs for the past three weeks. "I feel like there's a wall in front of me and everything I know is on the other side- I just can't get over there. I wish I could remember, Bobby; I really do."

His posture straightened instantly. "What did you call me?"

"B-bobby… That's your name isn't it?" She worried that she had said something wrong. The name came to her from out of nowhere; she still didn't know him, only the name.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, it is." His shoulders slumped again.

Exhaustion from the mental strain was showing on her delicate features. Her eyelids dropped to half-mast; he was losing her again.

"What was our wedding like?"

He cringed. He didn't mean to; he just wasn't prepared for the question. Images flashed through his mind, as though glued to the pages of a flipbook- he wasn't ready to relive the event yet. "Get some rest," he answered, his voice too loud for his own ears. She couldn't hear him through mist of slumber. He rose abruptly, disturbing her. She started slightly out of the first stages of sleep. Guilty, he timidly touched her shoulder. Her head turned in his direction and he felt her relax. He carefully pulled the sheets up around her shoulders, still greatly perturbed.

A ringing brought him back from the mire of his thoughts. He quickly silenced the phone while crossing to the other side of the room.

"Lyle." His face paled. "Yes. Yes, I understand. I'll be there right away."

Rubbing the palm of his good hand over his mouth in distraction, he turned to look back at the sleeping beauty in his bed. With a dark foreboding weighing on his shoulders, Lyle picked up his jacket and left the room.

All because of what you are: The Prettiest Star…

+ There were some days when Broots thought that he would literally jump out of his skin at the drop of the pin. Today was one of those days. Right before Miss Parker left to run her mysterious errand, she left him with explicit instructions: 1) Buy her some time, 2) shadow Lyle's movements to make sure he wasn't following her, 3) answer her calls before the first ring finished ringing, and 4) keep tabs on Jarod.

Broots wasn't confident that he and Sydney had gotten her adequately off the hook with Lyle. Her sibling seemed much too willing to excuse the delay on the Jarod hunt. And he wasn't doing a very good job with the rest of his list. So far he had nearly missed one of Miss Parker's calls and lost Lyle for a two-hour period. Now Lyle was back and Broots was hiding.

Then the phone rang.

"Shhh! Shhh!" he hissed at the screaming cell phone.

"Broots!" Miss Parker was harried and impatient. Broots got right to the point.

While informing his boss about the call he had placed to Chicago FBI about one of their agents in Fletcher Ridge and his suspicions on where Jarod was, Lyle appeared out of nowhere. Broots ducked further into his hiding hole, praying the Under-director would not see him.

"What about Lyle?" he asked in a strangled, hushed plea.

"Lyle who?" was all the help he received. The dial tone buzzed in his ears.

"Oh, boy," he gulped. Lyle was angrily marching in his direction followed by two young Asian beauties. +

"Get out."

"But, Mr. Lyle…" one of the girls protested.

"Get out!"

"Wh-where?" she and her friend were baffled by his sudden mood change.

"I don't care just Get. Out!"

Under his killer glare, the girls scurried to obey him. Absently, picking up some papers that were neatly stacked on his desk, Lyle tried to remember under what circumstances he had met the girls and why they had been waiting for him at the Centre.

Amnesia must be contagious, he mused darkly as he could not remember any details about the girls that set them apart from any of the others.

The clock struck one and with a groan and a curse, he turned and headed back out the door to his father's former office.

They were waiting for him like wolves waiting for their prey. Rained was sitting at the desk with something that appeared to be rosary beads clutched in his hand. His mouth was twisted into a weird smile. Cox stood stoically nearby waiting for Lyle to settle himself in the chair across from Raines.

"You're late." Cox tetchily pointed out.

"I was busy."

"That's no excuse."

"I was doing," he snapped detesting the way in which Cox spoke to him, "what you told me to do."

Cox ignored his attitude. "How is the subject doing?"

Resisting the urge to slug the man or worse, Lyle simply muttered under his breath, "The subject has a name."

Cox regarded him for a moment; he had heard the comment and was curious about it. "The status of the subject, Mr. Lyle. Has she remembered anything?"

Lyle was silent for a long moment before answering. "No," he said emphatically. "Nothing."

Cox straightened up and eyed him guardedly. "You have your instructions, correct?"

"Refresh my memory," he replied with a slight smile. "I seem to be having trouble with it."

"I would not be so glib about this, Mr. Lyle, if I were you." Cox was all but shaking with fury at the younger man's defiance. He glanced at Raines, who did nothing to help him.

"She's my wife."

"She is Centre property and you will do well to remember that. The marriage is a temporary condition and it would be a mistake to become emotionally attached to the subject."

"Don't you tell me how to handle a Project. I have much more experience with them than you!"

The situation was rapidly dissolving so Raines intervened. He rose from his seat and came around the desk to stand next to Lyle. The younger man recoiled slightly when Raines' hand attached itself to his shoulder.

"Mr. Lyle," the weird smile stretched out across his face. "This is for the good of the Centre. Trust us."

Lyle shrugged off the hand as he stood. Raines was beginning to sound like a broken record as of late. "Look," he cast a scathing look at Cox, "if you two are finished, we do have a Pretender to catch."

Cox's anger dissolved and a secretive smile played on his lips. "Yes, we do. Which reminds me, Mr. Lyle- where's your sister?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly, realizing he had never bothered to find out why she suddenly bailed on the pursuit.

"Well," Cox stepped closer so that he was only inches away from Lyle, "Rumor has it that there is a solid lead on Jarod and no one has followed it up yet. If he gets away…"

"Don't threaten me," Lyle hissed back.

"Find your sister."

"She's not my responsiblity."

"She is now. Find her."

With a final glance at the two men, Lyle left the office as quickly as he could.