Disclaimer: The characters Miss Parker, Sydney, Jarod, Broots etc. and the fictional Centre, are all property of MTM, TNT and NBC Productions and used without permission.


Silent Declarations I
by Nicky



* * * * * * * * * *

I plop down angrily on my bed, like a petulant child throwing a tantrum. I had just taken a nice, hot shower to wash away all the stresses of the day. Why did he have to call now? Why does he have to call me at all?

"This is a really bad time, Jarod," I complain. Not that any other time would be better. It's just I really didn't feel like any of his mind games right at this moment.

"Is it ever a good time for you, Miss Parker?" he asks me with a laugh.
How did he do that? He always knows somehow what I'm thinking. Even when I don't say anything.

"What do you want?" I ask him exasperatingly in an effort to expedite the phone call. Maybe if I play along like a good girl, he'll hang up soon.

"Nothing," he sighs.

He obviously doesn't have anything better to do than torment me. I lay back on my pillows. This was going to be a long conversation.

"I guess I just wanted to talk to you," he admits finally.

Oh, poor thing. He's lonely. Well too bad. I can't deal with this tonight. Not that I have big plans for this Saturday night. Still, the plans that I did have didn't involve listening to him whine all night long.

"Jarod, why don't you write me a letter when you figure out what it is that you want. I don't have time to play Miss Lonely Hearts," I tell him in the meanest voice possible. I hate when people waste my time.

"I'm sorry I'm wasting your time, Parker. Besides, I didn't think you had much planned for this evening."

He did it again! Am I saying stuff out loud and not even realizing it? Or does he just know me that well that he can listen to my different tones and inflections and figure out what I'm thinking? It's all too creepy to me.

"Jarod, I'm going to hang up now. You're starting to freak me out." I go to hang up the phone when I hear him begging me not to. I know I'm going to regret this later, but I bring the phone back up to my ear.

"I don't really want anything. I figured we could just talk for awhile. Like we did when were were kids. I miss that."

His voice sounded so pitiful. And to tell you the truth, I kind of miss our friendship at times, too. But it's so hard to think of him as a friend. After all we've been through the past few years.

"Okay. So talk," I say to him impatiently. "I'm listening."

"You really should learn to relax," he tells me. Like that's a lesson I need to learn from him. "You sound really tense."

"Well, that's what I was trying to do. Until I got this little phone call from you," I start to say before I can think about what I was saying. I was just so used to jumping to the defensive whenever he called me.

"Sorry. Force of habit. I'll be nice," I promise.

Or as nice as I can be, I think to myself with a wicked little grin. What fun is nice? Besides, it'll be more fun to mess with his head a bit for a change.

"As nice as you can be," he laughs.

Okay, there goes that freaky little mind reading thing again. Great. Not only do I have to worry about what I'm going to say, but I'll also have to be careful about what I'm thinking.

We talk for hours. About everything. And about nothing in particular. We tried to keep things on neutral territory. Nothing about work. Nothing about sweepers or probing questions to find out where he was hiding this week. It was actually kind of nice to have a friendly conversation with somebody. Especially an old friend.

"This is nice," Jarod says with a yawn. We'd been on the phone for awhile and I guess he was getting tired. I was pretty sleepy myself.

"I'll admit that it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be," I say sheepishly. I didn't want to give too much away as to how I was really feeling.

Actually, I thought it was really, really nice. And comforting. I felt like I was 12 years old again when Jarod and I would sneak down into the sublevels and find a private little corner to hang out. We'd just sit there and talk about all sorts of things. What it would be like to be away from the Centre. What life would be like when we grew up. It's funny how our daydreams of the future always included each other. But we never thought we'd end up the way that we are. Bitter enemies who can't even be in the same room with each other.

That thought made me sad. And all I wanted at that moment was for Jarod to be right next to me. Laying with me and holding me in his arms. And we could dream about life away from the Centre. We could have dreams about our future. A future together. But it was too dangerous to say it out loud anymore. I couldn't tell him. What would be the point? We're not kids anymore. And the next morning, I'd just have to get up, go to the Centre, and start again on the hunt for him. No matter my heart was telling me. No matter what I really wanted to do. I didn't have a choice in the matter. I was born into this life.

But he was stolen and forced into it, I remind myself. He didn't have a choice, either. So why am I mad that he took the first chance he could to get away? I should be proud of him for his strength. I should be thankful for his courage to leave that place and try to make a life for himself that we used to dream about. A life that we vowed to live together.

But that was all a childish fantasy. Wasn't it? There's no way we can live that life. What we felt for each other back then was just puppy love, right? I've done too much to destroy the bridge between us. I chase after him every day of his life to take him back to that prison. No matter how much he sacrifices for me. He's lost his brother because of me. He's lost his father and the clone because of me. And he even lost his freedom because of me. And what did I do to thank him? I recovered from my gunshot wound and went right back to chasing him. A wound given to me by the same Centre I vow to serve day in and day out. The same Centre who killed my mother. And my lover. Why am I still there again? How can I possibly justify my employment there to myself and to my conscience?

Because I'm a coward. And I'm weak. I lack the courage and fortitude to leave that place. I cannot admit that Jarod does not belong there. And I cannot admit that my father is a monster. I can't say it out loud anyway. But I know in my heart. I know Jarod doesn't belong there. That's probably why I've never been able to really catch him. I always let something get in the way. And I know my father is a monster incapable of loving me the way I need to be loved. There's only one person, besides my mother, who's been able to do that. Jarod. It's another thing I cannot admit, but it's something I've always known. He loves me. Completely and purely.

And despite all I've done to forget him and our childhood dreams, I love him too. I gasp slightly at the realization. I can't believe that thought just came to my head. I can't . . . you know. The 'L' word. It can't be true. I can't admit to anything like that. But the more I try to deny it, the more something inside me tells me it's true. I can't say it out loud, but I feel it. And I know it. I love him. And my heart begins to ache for him.

"You sound tired," I say finally, after taking a few minutes to get back to my normal, tough as nails attitude, pushing all the feelings away. I can't feel them. I can't let him know.

"Yeah," he sighs, somehow sensing I was back to my old self. "I should probably go."

I don't say anything. I can't say anything. Because my heart was breaking. This would probably be the last time I could allow anything like this to happen. It was too dangerous. Because the next time, I might not be as resolved to keep my feelings to myself. I might be tempted to share with him what I really thought. What I really felt. What I really wanted. That all I really wanted was our dream. Being together. Loving each other forever.

"Good night, Parker," he whispers.

I let his deep voice echo around my head a few moments more before I get ready to hang up the phone. Good night, Jarod, my love, I want to say. But I can't. Not yet anyway. Maybe one day.

"Oh, and Parker," he says just before I hang up.

"What?" I respond, barely able to hold back my tears.

"The day will come. I'll wait forever if I have to. You'll be able to say it. You'll be able to tell me you love me as much as I know I love you."

Click.

I knew he loved me. But hearing it makes all the difference to me. It gives me courage. It gives me strength. And it gives me hope that someday I really will be able to say it.

The dial tone suddenly blares in my ear before I realize I'm still holding the phone to my head. Through tear-blurred eyes, I find the hook and hang up the phone. Holding it to my heart and praying that it'll ring. Praying that Jarod won't wait too long to call again. Because he deserves to hear what I'll say to him as much as I'm finally ready to say it.

Disclaimer: The characters Miss Parker, Sydney, Jarod, Broots etc. and the fictional Centre, are all property of MTM, TNT and NBC Productions and used without permission.


Silent Declarations II
by Nicky


* * * * * * * * * *

I pace around the living room of my latest lair. It's not too dingy and run down. It's actually rather comfortable. Quiet and remote. Parker would love it. Speaking of Parker, it should be about that time. Time for our nightly call. But I don't really have anything important to say to her. I just feel like chatting. I pick up the phone and start dialing, my heart beating faster. Finally she picks up. And when she figures out it's me, I hear the anger rise in her voice. Like a little child throwing a temper tantrum.

"This is a really bad time, Jarod," she complains.

"Is it ever a good time for you, Miss Parker?" I ask her with a laugh. She seems like she's getting even more annoyed. Like she's not in the mood for our 'game'.

"What do you want?" she asks.

Ah, right to the point Parker. Good girl. She must think that playing along will make the game go by quicker. No such luck tonight. Because this isn't really a game tonight. I just need to hear her voice.

"Nothing," I sigh, finally answering her question. "I guess I just wanted to talk to you."

Good one, Jarod. I must sound like such a loser to her. A lonely and pathetic loser with nothing better to do on a Saturday night than call and bother her.

"Jarod, why don't you write me a letter when you figure out what it is that you want. I don't have time to play Miss Lonely Hearts," she tells me in a pretty nasty tone. But I don't blame her. I know she hates it when I waste her time.

"I'm sorry I'm wasting your time, Parker. Besides, I didn't think you had much planned for this evening."

"Jarod, I'm going to hang up now. You're starting to freak me out," she says after a pause.

Freaking her out? What did she mean? Have I been saying things to offend her without realizing it? I can tell she's about to hang up the phone, so I start begging for her to stay on the line a little longer. Luckily, she agrees.

"I don't really want anything. I figured we could just talk for awhile. Like we did when were were kids. I miss that."

"Okay. So talk. I'm listening," she says kind of impatiently. But something tells me that was mostly an act. I think she misses our friendship too.

"You really should learn to relax," I tell her. She was always so uptight. And I knew it wasn't good for her ulcer. "You sound really tense."

"Well, that's what I was trying to do. Until I got this little phone call from you," she spits out. But then she changes her tone. "Sorry. Force of habit. I'll be nice," she promises.

Nice? What exactly does she mean by nice? Her sudden change in attitude kind of makes me suspicious.

"As nice as you can be," I say with a laugh. 'Nice' is not a word I'd use in the same sentence as Miss Parker.

We talk for hours. About everything. And about nothing in particular. We tried to keep things on neutral territory. Nothing specific about my pretends or where I was hiding. And she didn't even threaten to send the sweepers after me. It was actually like a nice conversation with an old friend.

"This is nice," I say, letting a yawn escape. We'd been on the phone for awhile and I was getting tired. I hope she doesn't think I was bored talking to her.

"I'll admit that it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be," she replies, much to my surprise. But that's all she says.
Somehow, I think she had something on her mind, but didn't want to say it. She gets kind of quiet and I know she's thinking about something. I remember she would do that when we were kids.

We used to try to sneak away together every chance we got just to have some private time. Just to sit and talk. She was my best friend. And even though we were so young, I knew I loved her. Even when I didn't really know what love was. I just knew that I always wanted to be with her. No matter where we were.

She used to love me too. And I think she still does. There have been many times when she was so close to catching me, but I always end up getting away. I don't think that's a coincidence. No matter what she says or does, I know she can't bring herself to take me back to that place. Because she loves me. But, it's just hard for her to admit it. She's afraid to admit it. Because the Centre has already taken away everyone she ever loved. But despite that, she stays. Because she doesn't feel like she has a choice. Because she's too afraid to live any other life. It's not the life we used to dream about, but that day will come. One day she'll be able to face the truth about how we feel about each other and that's the day we'll start our life. Loving each other forever.

"You sound tired," she finally says after her long pause.

"Yeah. I should probably go," I sigh. Immediately I can tell that something is different. Something has changed. That wall of ice that she builds around herself is back. But, it's not as strong as it used to be. There are a few vulnerable places. Her heart is open. Almost as if she wants to invite me in, but just can't say the words. She's still so afraid.

"Good night, Parker," I whisper. I was about to hang up, but decided that this might be my last chance to help her. This might be my last chance to do something. Maybe I can give her a little courage so that one day she won't be afraid anymore. "Oh, and Parker," I say quickly.

"What?" she says.

Her voice sounds shakey, like she's about to cry or something. I really hope this is the right thing to do.

"The day will come. I'll wait forever if I have to. You'll be able to say it. You'll be able to tell me you love me as much as I know I love you."

I say it all so quickly before I can get a chance to really think about what I was saying. And I hang up the phone quickly before she has a chance to respond. But I can't help but wonder what she's thinking. I just hope she's not mad. And I hope she doesn't shoot me the next time she sees me, I think with a smile.

I look down at the phone in my hand and smile again.

"Well, there's only one way to find out what she's thinking," I say as I dial those familiar numbers . . . .


THE END.