Music of the Heart
Prologue – Dolce


For a few moments she stood inside the door to the grand building and allowed the music to wash over her. Most people would have been surprised to see her there – few would have believed that she could have a fondness for any music, let alone the classics, but she liked to be considered an enigma. Regardless of that, however, this was one concert she would be happy to know that nobody knew she’d been to. The music, quiet at first, was gradually swelling and expanding to a grand crescendo. Slowly she became aware that the hair on the back of her neck was responding to the call of the music, rising in company with the overall movements. Suppressing a shiver, she slipped into a seat in the back of the room and allowed herself to fall into the emotions that such grand power called forth.

She watched him spread himself over the keyboard, pouring his emotions into the music that he was playing. For several seconds she allowed her eyes to wander over the grand hall with its rows of seats rising above and behind her and the places in front of her spreading out expansively, to culminate in the raised stage and the musicians rising in levels, finally topped by the grand pianist who, despite being unknown, was becoming more beloved with every passing concert and who could now command audiences numbering up to five thousand people.

His hair fell forward into his eyes and he impatiently gave one hand a brief respite from its frantic exertions on the keys to push it back. His eyes flashed as he allowed himself one brief glance around at the full and yet silent hall. She cringed back in her chair, forgetful of the fact that the bright spotlights blinded him to the individual faces in the crowd. For a few moments, a pause in the piano score gave him a chance to stretch his fingers and his back, and she could almost believe that a spasm of pain crossed his face as he eased the cramped position in which he had been sitting. Such an expression, however, she was sure would not have been noticed by other members of the rapt audience.

Only one who knew him well would be able to recognize such a thing.

The music drew to a close and there was a moment of awed silence before a ripple of applause began at some point within the silent crowd and rapidly swelled until the power of it could be seen to compete with the very music of which it was showing its appreciation. He stood, the tails of his old-fashioned coat sweeping off the low stool as he bowed to the left, right and centre, one hand tucked in behind his back and the other pressed tightly to his middle. She allowed a gasp to pass her lips but her hands remained motionless in her lap. A tear, however, glistened in her eye and began to slowly make its way down her cheek. A call began in an unknown area, a frantic call for an encore and the pianist, exchanging a glance with the conductor, nodded smiling acquiescence and reseated himself. She allowed herself to breath out again and found that she was trembling.

The first notes were a short trill, his fingers dancing over the keys and sending out the notes into the suddenly silent hall. The first movement of the piece was light and cheerful, the ideas created of children laughing as they played. There was a brief moment of silence, followed by one sharp note that was discordant and she could see that the pianist was watching the audience’s reaction. She had managed to stop herself from jumping, but many others were unable to do so. The next movement was one of inexpressible sadness, the violins joining in with the mournful notes produced by the pianist’s skillful hand. A second solitary tear slipped down her cheek and she could hear, amid her own sadness, the suppressed tears of many around her.

Slowly, gradually, the music began to rise out of its deeper and more tragic melodies, a few moments of almost happy notes to be found like rare jewels amid the tones of sadness. She could feel herself responding to the pull and power of the music and her memory could trace the pattern of the tones and predict the next movements. As she had thought, the soaring tones that comprised the final section sent her emotions upward and out of her sadness.

The music ended and this time the applause was slower to arrive, but even louder and more emotional when it did. She watched as he stood and enjoyed the appreciation that he was receiving almost entirely for himself. However, with his natural generosity, he insisted that the members of the orchestra also be acknowledged for their efforts. She waited no longer, but rose out of her seat and left the auditorium. Passing through the almost vacant lobby, she went out into the street, around to the side door and entered quickly. Slipping unnoticed into his dressing room, she dropped the small square of paper onto the table and, with a wry smile, picked up one of the PEZ dispensers that were scattered all over it, slipped a piece of its contents into her mouth and put the holder back down again.

She left the room as silently as she had entered it, her shoes making no noise as she crossed the carpet. She had just passed a door leading to the stage when it opened. She rested her hand on the door leading to the street and outside of which many people were already gathering. The members of the orchestra began to pass through the door and she suddenly turned with the knowledge that he was there as well. Her eyes met his and she felt with a sense of satisfaction the shock that the view of her gave him. He froze for a moment, waiting with the tenseness of a hunted animal to learn the plans of the hunter. She gave several seconds for the panic to build to a crescendo within him then nodded and opened the door, passing into the cool night air.

He stayed where he was for a moment, still waiting to see whether this was merely a prelude or if she had really walked away. When the moments had ticked by and he was alone in the hallway, he allowed himself to breathe again. The perspiration beading his face was no longer only from his exertions on the piano and he found that his hands were trembling. Entering his room, his eyes were drawn immediately to the note that sat on his table. He also saw that she had moved one of his PEZ dispensers, the one with the small bust of Mozart as its head. He grinned as he pocketed the note and then slipped his arms into his coat pocket. As he walked towards the door, however, he couldn’t help himself. Dropping onto a nearby chair, he pulled the thin slip of paper out and unfolded it. His eyes ran over the verses it contained and he grinned. Pulling out his wallet, he slipped the paper in among others and then returned it to his pocket before getting up and leaving the room. Her words would go well when set to music. He never knew she was so poetic…

The music once that lit my soul and passions true,
Was full of strength and love and power and light.
And I could feel it every single moment,
Passing through each day and every night.

And then, one day, my soul had died within me,
The world was dark and I was all alone.
But from somewhere, some far deep and hidden place,
The music came into my heart and home.

I could feel the waves of music throw themselves,
Constantly on the heart I’d closed to you.
And finally I felt the first few notes were breaking,
Through the walls that shut out even those I knew.

And you slipped in that room that was my heart’s inside,
Like a ghost you passed around all my defense.
I tried to stop you often, but I failed each time,
You were there; I could feel you in my presence.

And so I tried to tell you that I hated you,
That you and I could no longer be friends.
But still you came back once and then again to me,
And showed that love which just a true friend sends.

And then you played the music that inspired me,
Left my heart in tatters, shedding tears of grief.
But you showed me in your music that in your own hands,
I finally could find my own relief.

Thus now I lay myself down here before you,
Admitting you possess my conquered whole.
I give you everything thing that you would have of me,
Therefore – maestro – take my life, my heart, my soul.

Music of the Heart
Part 1 – Largo


Jarod grinned once more as he slipped the letter of acceptance back into his pocket. His last foray into the world of music had moved him as much as it had, he reflected with a soft chuckle, moved some members of his audience. Since his series of concerts had ended, he had been practicing his singing abilities for the one role that he had decided would be the most fun for him to play. No pretend, no pressure was involved in this one. It was just for himself. And, he had to admit to himself if he wanted to be completely honest, one other person.

His eyes took in the rehearsal dates and he glanced over the days in which he would be required. Only one day off here and another there. A few hours to himself every day, but most of the time would be spent on stage or backstage or trying on costumes. Jarod reached forward and pulled the program towards him with a lazy finger, glancing around his room as he did so. For once, and especially for him, it was extravagant. The cream walls contained artworks – his own – and the furniture was expensive and modern. It wasn’t, of course, his house. He had simply rented it, fully furnished, from a fellow actor who had got a job in London and had to move immediately.

Jarod stretched himself out on the cream leather sofa and began to flip through the program, an occasional glance at the photos of his character, resplendent in fishnet stockings, enough to emphasize his earlier thought about pleasing another person. Or, he thought with a grin, perhaps pleasing was the wrong word…

Jarod stretched his arms out behind him and then reached over for the glass of blood-orange juice that was on the table beside him. Picking up the show’s score from where it lay on the table, he walked over to the grand piano that the room boasted and, seating himself in front of it, threw himself into the playing of one of his songs. Suddenly he stopped himself, got up and walked over to the stereo in the room. Picking up a tape from a pile beside the machine, he slipped it into the player and pressed the record button. Then, walking back to the piano, he threw himself once more into the introduction.

It was already very dark by the time he opened his eyes. After the first two times playing through, the music was indelibly written on his mind and he had simply closed his eyes and allowed his fingers to continue playing as they would. The innocuous click as the tape finished recording his performance went unnoticed, as did the fact that the entire afternoon had slipped by and that it was already evening. Glancing off to his right, he could just barely see, through the windows that covered the entire wall, the Pacific Ocean that crashed against the sand, out of sight on the beach below him. The room in which he stood jutted far out over the water and, as the owner had proudly showed him, the floor of the balcony was glass and could be opened for easy access to the waves.

The growling of Jarod’s stomach broke the peace of the evening. Stepping into the kitchen, he began to prepare a meal for himself, expertly flipping each pancake over until they were all lying in a golden stack on a plate. Reaching into the freezer, he pulled out the large-sized carton of ice cream and placed several scoops of it atop the warm pile, drizzling the golden syrup over the entire tasty concoction. Picking up a fork and spoon from the bench-top, he wandered into the living room and sat down in front of the television, flicking it on. A cartoon show was the first thing he found and, a grin on his face, he settled down to watch it.

Several hours later he awoke with a jerk. Through the curtainless window, moonlight streamed in and he could see that the now-empty plate sat on the table in front of him and the television was off. A frown crossed his face briefly before he reached over and turned on a lamp that sat on a table behind him and he saw the cause of the silence.

“I never thought housebreaking was your style.”

Miss Parker allowed a smile to briefly cross her face.

“It is when you’re inside it.”

The potential double meaning of the sentence crossed Jarod's mind briefly and he got up and walked over to the window, looking out into the darkness that was punctuated by the occasional streetlight. To his relief the street was empty.

“Does anybody else know you’re here?”

“No,” her voice was cool, “and I have no intention of them ever being aware of it.”

“So you’re going to take me back to the Centre yourself?”

She stood up and pushed open the door to the other room. “Only if you can’t give me a good reason not to.”

He followed her through the doorway and gasped aloud as he saw the various alternations that had been made. On the top of the grand piano stood two candelabras, the white candles gleaming in the light caused by each other. A book stood open on the music stand but the contents of this Jarod ignored as he took in the changes that had occurred in the rest of the room. It was almost entirely covered with red rose petals. A second candelabra, this with numerous branches, stood on the table beside two carafes, one half-filled with white wine and the other with red, giving further light to the room. A small bottle of vodka stood nearby, as well as one of whisky.

“What’s this?” He turned to her and grinned. “International Women’s Day?”

Her face had contained traces of amusement, but, at his tone, they vanished and she pulled her gun out of the holster, unlocked the safety catch and, seating herself on the sofa, placed it on the table in front of her. Carefully, she removed her watch and set it so that she could see it from where she was.

“You have exactly thirty minutes, maestro.” She emphasized the word snidely. “If you haven’t made me lose track of the time by then, we’re going for a drive back to Blue Cove.”

Jarod glanced once at her out of the corner of his eye, noticing that the emotion he had seen last on her face, when she had been standing backstage after his concert, had now vanished completely. It was now obvious to him why she was there – she wanted to feel that way again and thought that he was the only person who could make it happen. The roses and candles were just a nice touch, but with no real meaning. As for the alcohol, that was intended merely to heighten the emotion, if any, that he might arouse. Feeling himself tense as the full potential danger of the situation sank in, he seated himself on the bench and brushed aside the music she had put there, turning to her politely but nervously.

“Does madam have any requests?”

“Yes,” she growled in response. “Make it good.”

*~*

Jarod glanced over his shoulder as he finished the second movement of his current piece. Both carafes were empty and the whisky bottle was rolling on the floor under the table, but the vodka had not yet been opened. The candles were almost melted away, but no sunlight had yet appeared at the window. A morose figure sat on the sofa with her head buried in her hands. Jarod was waiting until she started on the vodka before he began to play a series of pieces that he had planned and which, he hoped, would bring the night to an end. He was exhausted and his hands trembled so much that he could hardly touch the keys; only sheer terror was making him hit the right notes. The feelings of anxiety with which he had begun his recital had gradually expanded within him until it was an effort for him to remain at the keyboard.

Still, he had managed it.

The sight of the gun sitting on the table was incentive enough and he knew that, in the mood into which he had thrown her, she wouldn’t have hesitated to shoot him. It seemed ironic, then, that it was this same mood that was most likely to save him. She had been moderately drunk when she had arrived, he knew. Her actions were not something she would have done if completely sober and he could only hope that she could drink herself into oblivion and give him a chance to get her out of the house and, with any luck, drunk enough to make sure that she wouldn’t remember where he was.

He played blindly. Panic - pure, undisguised panic - drove him to pour as much emotion as possible into his playing and hope that it had the desired effect. It must have been having some impact, because the two of them were still there and not in a car, driving back to Delaware. Still, Jarod had no doubts that he wouldn’t have been able to talk his way out of the situation and what he was now doing was the only thing he could do – play for his life.

A movement caught his eye and he watched her subtly as she reached forward and picked up the gun, playing with it in hands that trembled slightly from the alcohol but were still firm enough to get a good shot in. Suddenly he could tell that she was also watching him. Her eyelids lifted marginally and Jarod looked away before she could meet his gaze. A moment passed, Jarod's frantic playing filling what would otherwise have been a deathly silence, before he once more glanced at her.

She sat with her eyes closed and her head resting against the back of the couch, her lips slightly parted. Jarod changed the music slightly so that it was quiet enough for him to hear her regular breathing. As sweat began to drip onto the keyboard, Jarod lifted his shaking hands from the white and black ivory and dropped them into his lap, sinking forward until his head rested on the music stand and perspiration ran down the dark wood and into the instrument. He let out a shaky breath and was about to look at her again when he felt the small ring of steel pressed into the middle of his back.

“I didn’t say you could stop.”

Jarod shook his head helplessly. “No.” The word was a tortured whisper and he could feel every nerve in his body shaking. “I can’t play anymore.”

Miss Parker moved around to the side of him so that she could see his face, but he turned away and refused to look at her.

“Take me back to the Centre, Miss Parker. I won’t play another note for you.”

He stared out of the window with eyes that saw nothing, waiting for her to yank him to his feet and drag him out of the room. Instead he heard her inhale sharply and could hear the footsteps as she ran down the stairs to his front door, opened it and ran out into the night.

Jarod dragged himself off the stool and lay on the floor, his face resting in his hands and staring down at the gun he found at his feet. Gradually his body began to react to lying so still and he progressively pulled himself up into a sitting position, picking up the revolver and cradling it in his hands. She would come back for it – he knew that much. It was all a matter of when. He painstakingly dragged himself forward on hands and knees, pushing the weapon in front of him. His limbs trembled with the exhaustion and tension that had filled the room, and not even the fact that he was still not safe was enough to make him move from his seat on the cool white tiles. Slowly, he pulled himself to the edge of the glass floor that ran the length, although not the breadth, of the room.

Stretching a weary arm and feeling his muscles cramping slightly at the movement, he opened the cover and sat for a few moments, tiredly and briefly enjoying the muted sound of the waves breaking on the sand below. Holding the gun in his hands, he prepared to toss it into the rolling sea.

“I’m sorry.”

He jumped and a bullet discharged from the barrel, startling several fish on its way to the ocean floor. Only instinct made Jarod clutch the gun more tightly as he turned to see her standing in the doorway. She held her jacket in one hand and the sleeves trailed on the floor. Her tailor-made trousers were wet and dripped on the tiles and her top was splashed with water. Jarod turned his head away, anger rising in him at the situation she had placed him in, and once more refused to meet her gaze.

“What do you want from me, Parker? What else? Go ahead and call the sweeper team. Drag me back to the Centre. Get back into Daddy’s good books.”

“Jarod, please…”

She took several hesitant steps into the room; her usually firm tread marred by uncertainly rather than the effects of the alcohol. He still gazed firmly at the floor, his emotions blocked by the exhaustion that he still felt and the determination that he wouldn’t yield to her pleas as he had done in the past.

The minutes slowly ticked by. Jarod refused to raise his head and he wondered what her reaction to his words would be. Would she run away, like she had before? Would she drag him to his feet and cuff him before leading him to the car for the drive back to Blue Cove? Would she knock him unconscious and leave his body for sweepers to find in the morning? In the end, she did none of those things…

Her first step startled him, but, at the end of six footfalls, he was waiting for her to pull him to his feet. Instead she lowered herself to the floor and tentatively stretched out a hand towards him. He drew away slightly but raised his head and, finally, looked at her. Her face was white except for red marks on her lips where she had obviously bitten them until they bled. Her cheeks were also tear-stained and he could feel himself beginning to falter in his determination to show no sympathy for her actions. As he pulled himself away, she drew back also as though fearful of some violent reaction. He could see that she was trembling slightly and he unconsciously turned towards her. Reaching out, he could feel that her skin was cold to the touch and he felt sympathy begin to take the edge off his anger as he realized that her damp clothing was adding to her coldness.

Jarod turned slowly towards her, pulling himself closer until they were only separated by a few inches. This time, as he reached towards her again, she remained still, only her eyes showing her emotion. He could see fear in them – fear of him. In an effort to remove it, he cupped her chin in the palm of one hand and, with the other, gently brushed the last remnants of the tears away.

“I’m sorry.” The words came out as a sob. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why, Parker?” His own were tender. “Why did you come?”

“I…I don’t know.”

He forced her face up to meet his own and raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

She tried to smile but he could see the tears still welling up inside her and, reaching out his other arm, gathered her to him. “Let it out, Parker. Let it out and then tell me what it is.”

He could feel the tears as they began to pour from her eyes and down his front and he knew, with a sudden feeling of relief, that he was now safe. Whatever the reason had been for her to seek him out, it wouldn’t result in what he had feared and so he was willing to be generous to her in whatever unspoken pain she was suffering under. His anger ebbed away and, finally, he could feel the tears begin to slow. Making no sound, he rocked her gently, as he would a small child, until they stopped completely.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“It’s… There was an accident today.”

Jarod froze and his heart seemed to stop at the same moment. “Sydney?”

“No, not Sydney.” Miss Parker shook her head and tried to control her voice and her tears. “Broots… and Debbie… Their car was rammed. It slammed into a tree and exploded. “

“How do you know, Parker?” The whisper was full of compassion.

“I was in another car, some distance behind them. I watched it… happen.” She began to shake violently in his arms as the memory came sweeping back in on her again.

“And…did they…?”

“I ran to the car. I couldn’t get too close – the flames were so hot. But I could see them. They were both in the front – either unconscious or dead. It took half an hour for them to put out the fire before they could retrieve the bodies.”

Jarod sat silently, his mind trying to absorb the fact that the man whose life he had once saved and the girl for whom he had saved it were now both dead. It was no wonder that she had come to him wanting help. He gently released the grip that her arms had on his and stood up, helping her likewise to her feet.

“What are we going to do, Jarod?”

The whisper was hardly audible but he heard it and swung her up in his arms in response. “We’re going to get you into some dry clothes first. If you stay like that, you’ll catch…” He had been about to say that she would catch her death of cold, but stopped himself in time. “Pneumonia,” he finished carefully. “A hot shower will help a lot.”

He carried her into the bedroom and put her down on the bed. He pulled open the cupboard door, pulling out a white bathrobe and tossing it onto the bed beside where she sat. Then he helped her into the bathroom.

“Take as long as you like,” he said gently. “The hot water won’t run out. Call me if you want anything.”

Leaving the room, he pulled the door shut behind him. He made his way slowly down the stairs, his mind struggling to deal with what she had told him. He mentally replayed the moments when he had been in the house of the man who was now dead and the things he had done to make both he and his daughter happy. An idea began to work its way into his mind and, reaching the bottom of the stairs, he sat down on the sofa in the music room and allowed himself to contemplate it. As he was about to definitely decide that the Centre was involved, the phone on the table in the other room rang.

“Jarod?” The voice on the other end was so muted that, for a few seconds, Jarod thought he had imagined it.

“Sydney? Are you okay?”

There was a pause.

“No.” The voice was decisive. “I’m not.”

“Where are you?” Jarod's voice held a note of command.

“Nowhere near Blue Cove, if that’s what you were wondering.”

“Sydney…” Jarod paused. “Did the Centre have anything to do with it?”

There was a sigh at the other end of the line. “I don’t know. I didn’t see it, only heard about it when Parker called me. Did she find you?”

“Yes,” Jarod affirmed. “She found me.”

“And is she okay?”

“As well as can be expected.”

For several seconds there was another long pause, then, as if he had run out of things to say, Sydney terminated the call, leaving Jarod staring at the floor.

*~*

“Parker?” Jarod tapped gently at the bathroom door but pushed it open when he heard no response. For a moment he stared at her unconscious body on the floor, wrapped in the gown that he had provided, before dropping to his knees beside and feeling immediately for a pulse. It was the work of only a few seconds for him to realize that a combination of alcohol and emotion had finally taken their toll. He grabbed a cloth off the sink and, dampening it, gently wiped the cool material across her face and hands before reaching up for the box of bath salts that sat on the sink and holding them under her nose. Old-fashioned treatment, he thought to himself, and reminiscent of some films he had seen but remarkably effective. Her eyelids flickered for a moment and then lifted, focusing immediately on his face. Memory was almost immediate as she looked at him and, for a short moment, she clung to him as the tears threatened to fall again.

“Parker, come on. This room isn’t the most comfortable for you to be lying in, so let’s get out of here, okay?”

He helped her to her feet and she swayed until he put an arm around her shoulder and led her back into the bedroom. He sat her back down on the bed and pulled out one of the long shirts that the home’s owner also possessed, putting it into her hands. She stared at it blankly for several moments before looking back helplessly up at him. He came over, knelt in front of her and read the expression in her eyes as she held the shirt out to him. With gentle hands, he untied the bathrobe and slipped it off.

His movements were quick as he slipped the shirt around her shoulders and put her arms, once free of the gown, into the sleeves in the way he might have done for a child. Doing up the buttons of the shirt so that it covered her to just above her knees, he helped her to stand and pulled the robe away from her, letting it slip to the floor. In that short half-second she let herself fall against him and he had to grab her to prevent her from falling through his arms to the floor. The force sent him onto the bed, with her held tightly in his grip.

Jarod gently pulled himself upright and released the firm grasp that he now felt himself holding her in. Looking down at her face, he saw that the emotion she was feeling was muted, and that she was blocking much of it with force of will. He, of all people, knew how dangerous that could be, but, for the moment, he thought that he preferred it that way. Standing, he picked up her unresisting figure and placed it on the bed, drawing a blanket over her.

“Try to sleep, Parker.” His voice was soft and gentle.

He placed a hand lightly on her shoulder and then brushed the hair out of her face, allowing it to spread out over the pillow on which he had placed her head. Bending down, he allowed his lips to touch her forehead before drawing back and leaving the room.

Pulling the door shut behind him, Jarod leaned against the wall and exhaled deeply, his hands trembling once again. He hadn’t been able to take in before what he had been told but now the information was beginning to slowly work around the defenses he had built up against it. Despite having spent almost no time together, Jarod felt that he knew the technician well. They had, after all, been matching wits for more than four years. Jarod walked along the hallway and opened the door at the end, stepping out onto the balcony. He could feel the cool breezes gently sweep over and around him and he looked out into the darkness ahead of him. He could feel his own pain beginning to rise to the surface and he struggled against it in vain. He could also feel the exhaustion once more making itself felt, and this, too, he fought against. The struggle was only temporary as he opened the door of the balcony and re-entered the house. Walking into the other bedroom that the house boasted and stretching himself out on the mattress, he wrapped a blanket around his body and closed his eyes.

Music of the Heart
Part 2 – Adagio


Opening his eyes, Jarod found his arms wrapped around a warm figure that lay on the bed beside him. He drew back slightly in astonishment and felt her tense slightly before she relaxed against him once again, muttering slightly under her breath and wrapping her hand around his. He watched her silently for a moment, stunned that she had been able to come into the room and lie down beside him without waking him up.

He glanced up at the window and saw that the first rays of sunlight were entering the room. Without looking at a clock, he could tell that it was only around five a.m., but he was often awake earlier and, living here, had used the opportunity to practice his swimming. Jarod gently began to draw his arms away from her, smoothly lifting her head and freeing his second arm before rolling off the bed. He donned his swimming trunks and, going downstairs, opened the floor of the music room and dived into the water below.

It was only when he had drawn some distance away from the house that he remembered that no towel would be waiting for him when he got back. He cursed quietly under his breath but turned and pulled, with powerful strokes, away from the house. He really didn’t want to admit to himself that the fact she was there unnerved him, but it did. Shaking his head to clear the water from his ears, he looked back to the house, treading water for a few moments, before striking out for it. He was in two minds about what he should do now. People were relying on him to play a part in the show, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to perform in it now. That was fairly irrelevant anyway. There were plenty of other people who could take his place. She would need him now.

He stopped suddenly and, forgetful of where he was, sank quickly and breathed in a lungful of water before breaking the surface again, coughing violently until he saw stars. While he coughed, though, his brain continued to think. Had he really thought that? That she would need him? Jarod shook his head in astonishment. Certainly, she had found him the night before, and…

How had she found him?

He was tucked away in a very private corner of California, had left no sign of his whereabouts and had only been there for four days. Even for her, that was pretty fast. Still, she had found him the moment she needed him. And Sydney… Jarod froze and sank under the water again, only to resurface and resume his coughing. How had Sydney known where to call?

Had Broots…?

Jarod shook his head at his own stupidity. Broots was dead. He couldn’t have been running a search on him. Could he? Could he have done it before he was killed? Why was he killed? This morning, Jarod had no doubt that the Centre had been involved in the death and had possibly even organized the whole thing. But who had finally ordered it? And why? Had Broots got too close to finding out some secret? That was the usual reason for disposing of people, but Broots? From various things that Jarod had read, Broots was indispensable to the Centre. But obviously they had found a way to dispense with him, or they wouldn’t have had him killed.

Jarod turned back to the house and, with a few strong strokes, brought himself to the ladder. He pulled himself up the hand-carved wooden rungs and, without thinking, grabbed the towel that sat by the opening and began to rub his hair. A few seconds passed and then he stopped and stared at the item he held.

“Parker!”

He looked around and noticed that the rose petals, glasses and bottles from the previous night had been cleared away as well.

“Parker, where are you?”

He wrapped the towel around his waist and dripped his way through the lower storey of the house, suspecting that he wouldn’t find her down there. He left the room in which they had slept until last and finally found her curled up in a chair in the corner.

She was staring at the floor when he came in, but looked up as he appeared. Her face was expressionless but, looking into her eyes, Jarod could see the pain that was nestled there. He approached her softly and brushed the hair out of her face, kneeling in front of her and cupping her face in his hands.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Parker.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” The tears appeared again and Jarod drew Miss Parker's head onto his shoulder and rocked her gently.

“It’s okay, Parker. It’s okay. I promise you, it’s all right.” He continued to sit silently for a few moments, listening to her sob. When it became more frequent and erratic, he shook her gently and pulled away. “Parker? Parker, you have to stop now. Parker, stop crying and listen to me.”

“I…I can’t…”

“You can.” Jarod placed one hand on either shoulder and looked down at her face. “Stop it now, Parker. Right now!”

His tones were sharp and shocked her into silence. She looked up at him, the sadness gone briefly and her old expression on her face. He grinned at her half-heartedly. “That’s better. Now, let’s go downstairs and have something for breakfast.”

“Eat?”

“No, Parker. Ingest through the skin. Of course eat.”

She rolled her eyes as she allowed him to help her up out of the chair. “And what wonderfully healthy and nutritious breakfast were you planning to cook for me?”

Jarod paused for a moment as a look of pain crossed his face. “Pop tarts.” The word was a painful whisper.

She winced as she turned to walk out the door but struggled to maintain the composure that she was now showing.

*~*

She picked fitfully at the square as it sat in front of her and slowly went cold, looking up to find that the Pretender was doing a similar thing. He sat, still wrapped in a towel and naked from the waist up.

“Jarod?”

He glanced up at her.

“Yes, Miss Parker?”


“What are we going to do now?”

Jarod looked hard at the table for a moment and exhaled slowly. “I don’t really know. I’m not sure how safe we are here.”

“Why?” Miss Parker looked around the house that stood by itself on the tip of the headland. “Why wouldn’t we be safe here?”

He looked up at her out of the corner of his eye for a second before turning to look directly into her eyes.

“How did you find me?”

She stammered for a second before pulling a piece of paper out of the pocket of her pants. The page was still damp and, as Jarod gingerly unfolded it, he recalled her appearance from the night before. He was about to ask her about it when the paper fell apart in his hands and he looked down at the familiar signature.

“So he did find me.”

Miss Parker nodded, compressing her lips to stop the tears that were once again threatening. “He called and sent me that yesterday. Then, half an hour later…”

“He was dead.” Jarod looked away, his emotion obvious in his eyes. Then, just as quickly, he looked back.

“And Sydney? Does he…?”

He watched as she nodded slowly, comprehension dawning.

“And you’re never the only ones…”

The sound of breaking glass brought both to their feet and Jarod grabbed Miss Parker's hand and pulled her away as something whistled past their heads and smashed the window behind them. The two ran into the music room and Jarod opened the floor, pushing Miss Parker down into the water and, silently descending the ladder, pulling the floor almost closed above his head. Then the two slipped away under the house, clinging silently to the slippery wooden piles.

“Where is he?”

Jarod looked sharply over at Miss Parker when he heard the voice of her brother above his head. She shook her head and glanced upwards but was too far from the floor of the house to see inside.

“Mr Lyle, the coffee’s still warm. We can’t be that far behind them.”

Them? Jarod mouthed the word at Miss Parker, who shrugged.

“Then get out and start searching the streets – house to house, if you have to. I want them both found. We’ve finally got rid of one. When we destroy them and the old man, then maybe we can have some peace and quiet at the Centre.”

Jarod listened as the footsteps retreated above his head and he heard the front door of the house slam closed. He looked to see Miss Parker about to release her hold on the underwater pole when Jarod ran one finger across his throat and then placed in on his lips. As he did so, they could both hear the sound of gentle steps above him.

“You see?” Jarod's whisper was no louder than the waves that slapped against the wood around them.

Miss Parker nodded and spoke equally silently. “But why?”

“He thinks we’re hiding somewhere upstairs. He’s waiting for us to come down.”

“And then what?”

Jarod was about to respond when they heard first a mobile phone ringing and then loud footsteps pounding across the floor and out of the house. Miss Parker exhaled slowly and then looked at Jarod.

“Are we going?”

Jarod nodded in the direction of the boat that was tied under the house and gave her a wide grin. “We sure are.”

*~*

The boat skipped along the surface of the waves and Miss Parker allowed her hair to fly out behind her, forgetting her troubles for a moment in her enjoyment of the trip. Jarod glanced once over his shoulder at her and raised his voice to be heard over the sound of the motor.

“Any idea where Sydney might be?”

Miss Parker shrugged. “Home?”

Jarod shook his head. “Remember what Lyle said. If he had been at home, they wouldn’t be out looking for him now.”

She nodded. “So where are we going?”

Jarod thought for a moment as the boat slowly approached land. “There’s one last place he might want to go, just in case something happened.”

Miss Parker nodded. “His brother’s grave.”

*~*

Sydney got up from his knees and brushed the dirt from his pants. He reached out one hand and gently brushed the petal of the flowers he had put there, his eyes sad. Turning, his eyes travelled back one last time to the gravestone.

“Goodbye, Jacob.”

“Isn’t that a little premature, Syd?”

He spun around and stared as Miss Parker stepped out from behind a tree, her gun in her hand.

“Parker? What are you doing here?”

“We’re here to help you.”

“We?”

Jarod stepped out from behind another tree, also holding a gun and a cautious smile on his face. “Yes, Sydney.” He nodded. “We.”

The psychiatrist stepped warily towards the two people as Miss Parker climbed into the driver’s seat of a car waiting nearby and Jarod glanced around, slowly making his way towards the vehicle. Sydney looked at him once before walking in the same direction.

“How do I know I can trust you?”

Jarod was about to respond when he heard a whispering sound. Sydney clutched at one shoulder and something whizzed into the tree behind him with a dull thud. Jarod grabbed Sydney, pushed him into the car and leapt in behind, firing his gun several times through the open window as the vehicle sped away.

*~*

“Parker, stop the car!”

“What?!” She turned around and stared at Jarod over her shoulder, her mouth open in shock. “Are you crazy?”

“No, but if you keep driving like that we’ll probably end up dead in a ditch. I need your help back here.”

She hesitated for a moment, her foot exerting less pressure on the accelerator.

“Today, Parker, if it’s at all possible.”

Jarod's voice was sharp and, in response to it, she pulled the car to the side of the road and sprang out, climbing into the back seat with him. Her first view of Sydney's white, almost grey, face and closed eyes was enough to make her gasp with horror.

“Is he…?”

“Put your hand here.” He pointed out a spot on Sydney's shoulder and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as she did it. “More.”

“More what?”

“Pressure.”

She leaned in a little more and noticed that the trickle of blood that had appeared between her fingers was slowly seeping away. She also found that her fingers were being wrapped up in the bandages that Jarod was applying to Sydney's shoulder. With a sound almost like a squawk, she pulled herself free.

“Now what?”

Jarod reached down to the floor of the car and pulled out a bottle, handing it to her, his face expressionless.

“What’s this?”

“You should know.” Jarod looked from Sydney's white face to hers. “You were the one who drank that stuff last.”

She looked down at the label on the bottle. “Isn’t that…?”

“Yes,” Jarod responded in a monotone. “It’s the same as the bottle you brought to my house last night. If Sydney wakes up, give him some. He’ll need it before we get to where we’re going.”

“And where are we going?”

“Ah!” A hint of a smile appeared on Jarod's face. “That’s my little secret.”

*~*

Jarod carefully drove through a narrow gateway and, getting out of the car, pulled a deceptively large log across the road. Climbing back into the driver’s seat, he looked over his shoulder to the other occupants of the car.

“How’s he doing?”

“He’s still losing blood.”

Jarod's mouth narrowed and he sent the car racing along the narrow roadway as fast as he could. Pulling up in front of the cabin, he tooted the horn twice before jumping out of the car and running around to the back seat.

“Where are we?”

“Somewhere safe, for the moment.”

Jarod gently slipped an arm under Sydney's shoulders and pulled the man towards him, looking, as he did so, down to the nearly empty bottle of vodka that Miss Parker still held.

“How much of that has he had?”

“Most of what’s gone.”

“Did I go over so many bumps that the rest of it spilt?”

She looked away for a moment, blushing and Jarod, despite the seriousness of the moment, had to grin. It faded, as he looked down at Sydney's unconscious face, still pale despite the alcohol.

“Son, what are you doing here?”

The voice from outside the car startled Miss Parker and she jumped out to look at the white-haired figure that stood beside the vehicle.

“Dad, I’m glad to see you.” Jarod smiled up at him. “Can you give me a hand, since Parker doesn’t seem like she’s going to?” He glanced over the top of the car at her with a faint grin.

The two men carried Sydney into the house and put him down on the sofa that sat in the living room. Jarod was kneeling down beside him when a familiar figure ran in from another room and threw himself on his double.

“Jarod! Where have you been?”

Despite his concern, Jarod couldn’t help grinning as he freed himself. “Around and about. Aren’t you going to say hello to an old friend, kiddo?”

The boy turned and looked around for a moment, spotting Miss Parker immediately but not willing to react in the same way. Going over, he primly held out one hand in a way that made both Major Charles and Jarod grin. Miss Parker watched him for several seconds before sweeping him into a hug. Jarod laughed before turning back to the figure on the sofa.

*~*

“How’s he doing?” the woman demanded.

“Not too well. And I still haven’t managed to remove the bullet yet.”

“Bullet? Jarod, that hit the tree beside your head.”

“That was one, Parker.” Jarod gently pulled back the bandage. “There are two entry holes, but only one exit wound. That means a bullet has to still be in there somewhere. That’s one of the reasons that I wanted him to drink that much. If he’s unconscious, he won’t feel it when I yank it out.”

“Can’t you give him something else?”

“I didn’t have anything with me, if you remember. We were lucky to have the things from the boat with us, although what my friend was doing with vodka on a boat is anyone’s guess.”

“Is there anything you need, son?”

Jarod looked up at his father with a smile. “I don’t suppose you have a fully fitted out first-aid kit?”

“Don’t you know?” Parker interrupted before Major Charles could answer.

“I haven’t been here before either, Parker,” Jarod responded as he watched his father leave the room in search of something like that which the pretender had requested. “I only knew about this place from an email that Dad sent when they settled here, a couple of months ago.”

“And are we safe?”

“For now.” Jarod's tone was full of meaning as he turned back to Sydney and Miss Parker glanced at him once before leaving the room.

*~*

“What’s his condition?”

“Respiration relatively steady. Pulse strong.”

Jarod looked over at the boy who stood at the head of the bed and his eyes gleamed as he held the forceps over the shoulder. “I think I’m working with the world’s youngest anesthetist.”

“And I know he’s working with the world’s most smart-ass surgeon.”

Jarod looked over his shoulder to see the woman standing with her arms crossed and leaning against the doorframe.

“Parker, I’m trying to keep this room clean.”

“Good luck.” She snorted. “I just wanted to know how it’s going.”

“Well, let us finish and then you can find out.”

An arm reached past Miss Parker and pulled the door shut. Jarod grinned as he saw her jump out of the way to avoid the wooden surface.

“Ready?”

Jarod watched as the boy nodded and then turned and began to slightly open the wound, mopping away blood as it began to flow over the protective cloths.

*~*

Jarod sighed and tore off his rubber gloves, wiping his forehead with one arm and eyeing the figure that lay on the bed, breathing lightly and evenly.

“Well?”

“Everything’s steady. He’s doing well.”

“Especially considering the amount of blood he lost.” Jarod shook his head and twisted his mouth into a smile. “The car will never be the same. Dry-cleaning the seats could send the Centre broke.”

The boy grinned as he looked over at the neat square of bandage on Sydney's shoulder. “I never saw an operation performed in that way, but I guess you read about it in a book, huh?”

Jarod reached over and ruffled his hair. “Smarty,” he teased. “Want to go down and get your big brother a drink?”

“Not really,” the boy grinned. “But I could…if it was made worth my while.”

“It will be,” Jarod promised. “I’ve been saving something nice for you…”

The boy looked at him closely for a moment before turning and running down the stairs. Jarod turned back to see that the man on the bed was slowly beginning to regain consciousness.

“Sydney?”

The man moaned and blinked once or twice, turning his face away from the bright light that hung over his head. Jarod moved it away and turned it off.

“Sorry. Is that better?”

Sydney licked his lips and opened his eyes again, glancing around the room before coming back to rest on the Pretender. He opened his mouth to speak but Jarod put a gentle finger against the dry lips.

“It’s okay. Don’t try to talk yet.” He picked up a piece of gauze that lay on a nearby table, dampened it in a bowl of water and wiped Sydney's mouth. “Just relax. Everything’s fine. Try to sleep again, okay?”

The man tried to nod but gave up and turned his head away slightly, relaxing into the pillow. Jarod pulled the blanket up over his arms, stopping just before it touched the area that had been operated on and then stepped back to find his clone standing beside him holding a glass of something that definitely wasn’t water. He raised an eyebrow as he looked from the glass to the face that stood at his shoulder.

“And what’s this?” His voice was quiet.

“Dr Pepper.”

Jarod grinned and emptied the glass in two large mouthfuls before handing it back. “Ask Miss Parker to come up here, will you?”

Reaching under the sheet, Jarod checked Sydney's vital signs and then stepped back from the bed.

“Is it over?”

“It is.” Jarod grinned, speaking as softly as he had done to the boy, as he turned to her. “You can look now.”

Miss Parker playfully tapped him on the arm. “What was it you wanted?”

“Can you stay here for a while? I think he’ll sleep for a few hours yet, but he might decide to wander off and that wouldn’t be the best thing.”

“Sure. Any other directions, doctor?” Her tone was soft but playful and Jarod grinned.

“Don’t give him anything to drink. If he seems thirsty, wipe his mouth with some damp gauze. And if he wakes up, call me.” Jarod was about to leave but turned back. “One of us will come up to check on his every now and then but call us if you need us.”

Miss Parker nodded, dropped into the chair beside the bed and watched as the door closed with a soft click.

Music of the Heart
Part 3 – Andante


Jarod pulled a chair out from the table and dropped into it with a sigh.

“Tired?” his father asked.

“Worried.”

“Join the club.”

Glancing up, Jarod noticed the expression that was on his father’s face and understood it immediately. “Dad, I’m sorry. We had nowhere else to go.”

“I’m not mad at you, son. I just don’t know how much we can trust them.”

He didn’t explain whom he meant by ‘them’ and Jarod didn’t need him to. “I trust them both, especially now.”

“Why now more than before?”

Jarod pulled out the laptop that he had placed, the night before, in the boat. He had been planning to disappear from the house while Miss Parker had been still asleep but the events of the morning had prevented that. Thus, he had had both his computer and DSA case, as well as his bags, with him when they had sped away from the house and now he was grateful for that. Opening the computer, he typed in the necessary code and was instantly connected to the Centre’s mainframe. While he did so, he told his father about what had happened in the last twenty-four hours. By the end of his explanation, the look of concern had left the older man’s face.

“Jarod, what did you bring me?”

The Pretender looked over his shoulder with a startled look on his face and then laughed as he saw the pleading look on his clone’s face. Standing up, he reached over and pulled a bag towards him, yanking out a plastic supermarket bag and throwing it across to his younger self.

“You’re the best!” The boy threw himself across the room and Jarod, had he not been prepared for such a reaction, would have been knocked over.

“One thing,” he spoke with an attempt at sternness.

“You have to share!”

“Not with you?” The boy looked down at the bag with the expression of a miser meeting a tax collector.

“No!” Jarod laughed. “With Dad.”

The boy heaved a sigh of relief, laughed and ran out of the room.

“He looks good,” Jarod turned to his father. “So do you.”

“And so does Emily,” Major Charles smiled. “She’ll be home soon and you’ll be able to see her then.”

Jarod looked down at his hands for a moment as he reseated himself. “Dad… is there any sign of… Mom?”

“Not yet.” Major Charles sighed. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with her since we last met, but I haven’t had any luck. And I take it you haven’t either?”

Jarod shook his head sadly. “I wouldn’t even know where to start looking, and I didn’t want to contact Harriet Tashman again in case the Centre was still keeping tabs on her.”

“The Centre…” Major Charles trailed off. “Why would they want to murder this technician and his daughter? What reason could they possibly have for it?”

Jarod looked past his father, out of the window. “What reason do they have for anything they do? They just do it.” He reached down and started up the computer that had put itself into safety mode while they had been talking. As he was about to execute a program, a voice informed him that he had mail. Typing in the password, he heard his father voice the question that he was asking himself.

“Who could be sending you mail now?”

“Angelo, maybe?” Jarod murmured as he waited for the message.

“Well, who’s it from?”

Major Charles’ voice cut across Jarod's silence.

“Broots.” The answer was half choked and Jarod continue to stare at the screen with wide eyes.

“What?!”

“It was a time-delayed email message that he sent to me yesterday – less than an hour before Miss Parker said he was killed.”

“And what’s in it?”

“I haven’t opened it, yet.”

Jarod continued to stare at the screen in astonishment until his father got edgy and clapped his hands in front of his son’s eyes. Blinking once or twice, Jarod reached forward and activated the attachment. Immediately the screen began to fill with pages and pages of data, all of which the pretender scanned rapidly.

“What is it?”

”Business deal – and contracts.” Jarod's eyes lighted on the final few details, all of which were highlighted in red. “Including…” He choked and couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Son,” Major Charles spoke softly, “what is it?”

“Including the one on his own life, Miss Parker's and Sydney's.” He looked up at his father. “He got into that car, knowing that he was going to die in it. He got into it because he knew it would give Miss Parker and Sydney the chance to survive.”

*~*

The boy stepped into the room and walked over to the bed, offering Miss Parker a piece of candy from his new PEZ dispenser as he felt for Sydney's pulse. She shook her head and smiled at him.

“Have you decided on a name yet?” Her voice was soft, much as he remembered it from the discussion they had had in the cell.

“Kind of,” the boy shrugged. “I have so many to choose from. It’s not every kid who gets to pick what he’s called.”

“I know a really good name.”

“Really, what?”

“Steven.”

The boy thought about it for a moment. “Why is that such a good name?”

“Because it’s…it was the name of a very brave and kind man.”

“More brave than you know, Miss Parker.”

The soft voice from the doorway made the two conscious occupants in it turn.

“What do you mean, Jarod?”

She got up from the seat beside the bed and stepped over to him. He handed her the sheet of paper on which he had written some of the information that he had found in the email. Jarod slipped an arm around her waist and watched as the tears began to fill her eyes and slip down her cheeks. She buried her head in his shoulder and he looked across as his clone and nodded for him to go downstairs. The boy, his face suddenly serious, nodded in return and left the room.

“How did you,” Miss Parker sniffed and wiped her nose on the handkerchief that Jarod had pushed into her hand, “find out about it?”

“Broots sent it to me himself - in an email, before he was killed.”

They had stepped out of the room and Miss Parker felt her knees give way as she understood the statement that Jarod made. He caught her as she began to fall and held her tightly against himself. She gathered folds of his shirt in her hands and turned his face once more to his chest, sobbing violently as he swung her up in his arms and carried her into another room. It was his own room – the one his father had promised him – and Jarod put her down on the double bed before leaving to return with a glass of water. He sat down beside her and waited until she had exhausted herself slightly before helping her sit up and encouraging her to drink.

“He wouldn’t want you to react like this, Parker.”

“How do you know?” Her voice contained some of its old aggression and a new, emotional pitch.

“Because, if he had, he never would have sent me the information. He probably guessed what you would do and that’s why he sent it to me. That’s possibly also why he found my address for you – so you’d have somewhere to go.”

He got up from the bed and Miss Parker turned to him.

“Where are you going?”

“To check on Sydney. I’ll be right back.”

*~*

He pulled the door almost shut, leaving her the time she needed to cry out the worst of her emotions without him seeing it. Letting himself quietly into the other room, he turned to see that the anesthetic he had administered before he had commenced the operation had almost fully worn off. He didn’t want to give his mentor more sedative, but knew he had to do something so that the worst of the injury could be got over before the emotional burden had to be dealt with. Putting aside his personal wish, that Sydney could be awake so that Jarod could talk to him about what had happened, the Pretender allowed the professional side of his mind to take over and he administered the injection without a tremor. Checking the pulse, he was pleased to note that it was stronger than it had been and he nodded decisively before leaving the room once more.

The boy, his name now decided after a discussion with the man he called his father, allowed his feet to dangle over the edge of the veranda, but looked up as he heard footsteps. He saw the man he called his brother walking towards him, a look of deep sadness on his face. Steven moved over to make room for him.

“What are you doing?”

“Thinking.”

The Pretender nodded in response to this as if unsurprised and then sat down.

“Jarod?”

“Mmm?”

“Did he die a hero?”

Jarod thought for a moment before nodding slowly.

“Yes, he did.”

“And why?”

“Because he would have been scared by death, but didn’t let that stop him.”

“But didn’t the fact that he took his daughter with him count as murder?”

“No.” Jarod shook his head. “He knew that, if he was killed - and he would have been at some point, even if it hadn’t been then - his daughter would probably have been killed as well, or used by the Centre for one of their projects. By having her die with him, he probably saved her from a worse death or a terrible rest of her life. You do remember what it was like in that place, don’t you?”

The boy shuddered and nodded. Jarod put an arm around his shoulder and drew him close. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you think about it. I was just trying to make a point.”

“It’s okay.” The boy’s voice was muffled. “But I had that nightmare again.”

Jarod pulled the small shoulders away from himself and looked down at the face that was now streaked with tears. “We’ll do something about that, Steve. I promise we will. We’ll try to make that nightmare disappear for good.”

“Really?”

Jarod held him close again and let his eyes wander over the trees that grew around the house. “Really.”

*~*

Miss Parker descended the staircase to find Major Charles making coffee and Steven sitting at the table playing with one of his new possessions.

“Where’s Jarod?”

Major Charles looked over at her with a sad smile on his face. “He went outside for a walk. I think he finds it confining to be around people.”

Miss Parker nodded. “And Sydney?”

Steven looked at her. “I checked on him twenty minutes ago. He’s doing well.”

“Is he awake?”

“Not when I looked, but he might be now.”

She was about to turn and go upstairs when Major Charles stepped over and pushed a mug into her hand.

“My son insisted that you have this as soon as you came downstairs.”

Miss Parker smiled and accepted the mug, downing half of it before glancing at it askance and then up at the man who stood in front of her. “And did he tell you I don’t drink coffee with sugar?”

“He did,” came a voice from the doorway, “but he also aid that you needed it and should be given it anyway.”

“Jarod!” Miss Parker turned to him with an expression of relief as he walked over and stood in front of her.

“Are you okay?”

He brushed a stray strand of hair out of her eyes and she mutely nodded, her eyes filling again at his gentle tone. To avoid the intensity of his gaze, she swallowed the rest of her mug’s contents, with a grimace for its sweetness, before handing it back to Major Charles.

“I’m going up to see Sydney.”

Jarod nodded. “Say hi to him for me.”

“You don’t want to come?”

“Not yet. Maybe later.”

*~*
Miss Parker silently entered the darkened room and crept across to the chair where she had sat before. Pulling it towards her, she looked up to find Sydney watching her.

“How are you feeling?”

He tried to shrug, but winced instead. “Sore.”

His voice was a croak and Miss Parker looked at the table to find a glass full of ice chips standing there. She nodded at it.

“Do you want something?”

He nodded and, picking up the glass, she gently slipped some through his dry lips, dampening them afterwards with the gauze.

“You’d make a good nurse.”

Miss Parker tried not to laugh. “Just following doctor’s orders.”

“Which doctor?”

“The one you trained.“

Sydney looked first amused and then slightly concerned. “Did it go well?”

Miss Parker nodded. “He said it did.”

Sydney nodded once and then closed his eyes. The expression when he opened them again was one of sadness. “Is it true?”

She nodded once more, her own face growing sad. She reached out one hand gently and placed it on his.

“Do you know why, Parker?”

“No. Jarod hasn’t told me that yet.”

“Does he know?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know what he found out.” Miss Parker looked at him closely and saw that he was fighting to keep his eyes open. “Just relax, Syd. I can tell you the rest another time.”

She sighed as she watched him fall asleep in front of her, wishing that she could do the same, and then slipped back into the chair beside the bed.

*~*

Jarod dropped onto the sofa in the living room and threw an arm over his eyes, fighting the feeling that was coming over him. Somehow he knew his mind wanted him to go through the things that the former technician had felt as he had died, but Jarod was struggling against letting himself do that. He didn’t want to know. It was bad enough when he did it for people that he had never met or known, but to go through such a thing for somebody that he knew so well would be far more difficult. Moaning quietly, he turned his face to the sofa cushion and tried to pretend that everything could just go away. A hand on his shoulder startled him and he looked up into the smiling face of his sister.

“Welcome home, Jarod.”

He sat up and pulled her into a hug, relieved at having something to drag his thoughts away from their current problem.

“How are you doing?”

“I’d probably be better if I hadn’t been thrown out of a window a few months ago but, despite that, pretty good. And you?”

She looked at her brother, noting the dark patches under his eyes that she could recognize from both Steven and her father’s faces when they hadn’t had enough relaxation recently.

“I’ve been better.”

“No kidding.” Emily smiled at him. “I would never have guessed.”

As she stood up, he grabbed her wrist. “Where are you working now?”

“A small paper about twenty minutes drive from here.”

Jarod nodded, a smile on his face. “Couldn’t give up journalism, huh?”

“Well, it was a choice between that and housework…”

The two grinned at each other and then Emily went over to help her father cook dinner as Jarod rolled back to his former position and thought further about the situation in which he now found himself.

*~*

Sydney yawned widely and opened his eyes to find his protégée standing beside the bed checking his pulse.

“It’s fine,” he stated, pulling his hand away.

“My, my, aren’t we grumpy today?” Jarod tried to grin. “How are you feeling?”

“Tell you what,” Sydney snapped. “You get shot, cut open and wake up with a hangover and then tell me how you feel.”

“Yeah,” Jarod looked a little embarrassed. “Sorry about that. It was the only way I could make sure you wouldn’t feel anything when I extracted the bullet.”

He picked up a glass and slipped a straw into it. Sydney looked suspiciously from the dark red substance to Jarod. “What is it?”

“Hangover cure. It will help – a bit.”

The psychiatrist tentatively sipped it and made a face. “My God, what is that stuff?”

“I never said it was nice,” Jarod grinned.

“What’s it made up from?”

“All natural products. It’ll do you the world of good.”

”Except that my taste buds are going on strike.”

Jarod grinned and offered the glass again. “Trust me, it’s the most foolproof method that I’ve learnt about. Sure beats drinking several litres of water or raw eggs or something. Not that there isn’t a lot of protein in raw eggs…” He trailed off as he saw that the glass was empty and that the older man looked like he was about to get sick. He held out a piece of bread. “That might get rid of the taste.”

Sydney tentatively took it. “Might?”

“Depends how good your memory for taste is.” The psychiatrist nodded and took a bite of the bread, chewed it for several seconds and then swallowed.

“Better?”

Sydney glared at him under lowered brows and took another bite of the bread.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Jarod laughed as he picked up the glass. “I’ll be back in about an hour to check on the dressing. If you need help, yell.” The Pretender headed towards the door but stopped when he was spoken to.

“Jarod?”

“Yeah?”

“Where are we?”

The younger man smiled. “Somewhere safe.”

*~*

“How’s Sydney?”

“Hung over.”

Miss Parker looked sympathetic while Steven tried not to giggle.

“Why?”

Miss Parker looked across at Emily, who had asked the question. “Because your brother made him drink almost an entire bottle of vodka and Sydney doesn’t usually drink at all.”

“He might get used to it.”

Jarod held up the glass and gave her a wicked grin. “I very firmly doubt it.”

Miss Parker ran a finger inside the glass and tentatively tasted the contents, pulling a worse face than the one she had made about the coffee. “What the hell is that?”

“A few roots and leaves – with a little tomato juice.”

“And when…?”

“I collected them this afternoon and made up the drink an hour ago. You can have a glass if you want. Anyway, you should recognize it. It’s similar to the stuff that a couple of people in this room were fed for years.” He slipped an arm around Steven’s shoulder and raised an eyebrow in Miss Parker's direction, who had the grace to blush, as she understood his meaning.

“And it’s good for hangovers?”

“When you next have one, let me know and I’ll make you some.”

Miss Parker shook her head and pushed the glass back into his hand, her lips still pursed in disgust. “No thanks. I’ll pass.” She got up from the table.

“Where are you going?”

“To see if Sydney survived your home-made remedy.”

*~*

Jarod disconnected the call and dropped his cell phone into his pocket, knowing that Ethan would be waiting for him tonight. Jarod wanted to bring his brother into the house so that he could be sure he was safe and Ethan had been equally enthusiastic about meeting his father and sister. But there was one other individual that Jarod didn’t want to leave to the mercy of the Centre, and bringing him to the house would entail more planning and danger. As he began planning for the evening, he discussed tactics with his father and Steven.

“Are you going to take her with you?” the young man asked, when everything was settled.

”Miss Parker or your sister?”

“Either.”

“No.” Jarod shook his head definitively. “There’s a contract out on Miss Parker's life, and Lyle is keen on ending Emily’s,” he smiled sympathetically at the woman, who was sitting on the sofa in the living area, out of earshot of the conversation, “so definitely not. I’m doing this all alone.” He looked at the map again and then at the notes he had made.

“And how long will you be gone?”

Jarod looked up at his father. “I wish I knew. Hopefully less than a day, but there are no guarantees. If there are any problems, it could take a lot longer.”

“Like forever,” Major Charles interjected, “if you get caught…”

“Dad, please…”

“Jarod, are you completely insane?”

The Pretender grinned. “That’s a possibility I definitely haven’t ruled out yet.”

“And when are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow. Early. Around six-ish, I guess.”

“Good luck, brother.” Steven reached across and grabbed the pretender’s hand as he got up from the table. “I think you’ll need it.”

The Music of the Heart
Part 4 - Allegro


Jarod closed the door to Sydney's room without a sound, having made him comfortable and knowing that he would now probably now sleep through the night. Having given Steven directions for taking care of him, Jarod felt confident about leaving. Not that he had told Sydney he was going. Had he known, the psychiatrist would have done everything he could to prevent him from leaving, even to the extent of calling Miss Parker to back him up. That was something that, right now, Jarod didn’t want to have to deal with. He smiled as he looked up to see his sister in the hallway.

“Going to bed?”

“Yup,” Jarod slipped an arm around her shoulders. “You?”

“Mmm-hmm,” she nodded. “Jarod?”

He smiled at her. “Yeah?”

“Are you in love with her?”

Jarod stopped short at the question, looking down at his sister in astonishment.

“It’s just,” she went on hurriedly, seeing that her brother was speechless, “I thought that, seeing the two of you together, she might mean more to you than just normal…”

There was a pause that was threatening to become painful, and which Jarod was determined not to break.

“And I wanted to know how to treat her,” Emily finished somewhat lamely. “You see if you were going to marry her or something, I’d have to behave a little differently than if she was just going to leave when everything died down.”

Jarod saw an easy way to avoid a difficult question and took it thankfully. “By the time all this dies down, we may all have had to leave,” he opened the door of his bedroom and stepped inside. “Good night, Emily.” Shutting the door in her face, he could hear her giggling as she walked down the hallway. Heaving a sigh of relief, he turned around.

Lying on his bed, clearly having decided to wait for him after visiting Sydney, was Parker. Obviously the stress of the day had finally caught up with her because she was lying, sound asleep and curled up the way he had seen her on the odd occasion that he had felt the need to sneak into her house. She was also moaning quietly in a way that threatened to break his heart. With a faint, sad smile, he pulled out of his pocket two letters that he had earlier written while still downstairs. Glancing across at the recipient of one, he wondered how she would react when she read what he had written, not explaining where he had gone, only his reasons for it. A similar letter had been written to Sydney, both of which the Pretender now left in plain sight on the bedside table, and then Jarod walked around to the side of the bed she had left for him.

Sitting down gingerly on the edge, he felt the mattress bend under him and he scarcely breathed as, looking over his shoulder, she saw him turn slightly towards him before lapsing into deeper sleep with a sigh. He stretched himself out on the mattress, gently reaching down to pull up a blanket that lay, folded, on the end of the bed and allowing it to rest on top of her. His own blanket was folded at his feet and, as he lay back with it in his hand, he stretched out one arm so that it lay on her. Immediately her mutterings stopped and he could see the faint smile that appeared on her lips. The urge was irresistible and he leant forward and brushed her lips with his own. It wasn’t a kiss – nothing so gentle could ever be called that – but it was contact and the action was enough to make her relax against him. He smiled as his eyes fell shut. She wouldn’t remember this the next morning, particularly when she was cursing him for leaving without her, but he would.

*~*

He checked through the last few things in his bag before heaving it into the back of the car and closing the trunk. Although he had been quiet, he had obviously wakened somebody because he saw the door open and then the smaller version of himself came outside into the faint sunlight.

“What are you doing up?”

“I want to come with you.”

Jarod shook his head. “No way.”

“Why not?”

Jarod leaned against the rear bumper bar and looked at the boy standing in front of him. It was, he had to admit, exactly the same way he would have reacted in the same circumstances.

“Because,” he explained concisely, “I need somebody here in case something goes wrong. I need you to look after Sydney for me. And, if I do get caught, I need you to help Miss Parker to get me out.”

“Would she?” The boy looked skeptical, but Jarod nodded.

“I’m positive. Will you do that for me? If you don’t hear from me in 36 hours, will you help them to save me?” He placed one hand on each of his clone’s shoulders and looked him firmly in the eye. The boy nodded.

“I promise.”

*~*

Jarod pulled the car into a gas station and looked over his shoulder. The large, cream-colored building was clearly visible to him and he gave an inward shudder. He never liked being in the area of the Centre and this time was worse because of the things he had to do. As the light around him began to fade, he got out of the car and filled it up, paying and leaving quickly. Everything had to be done quickly and none of it would be easy. He shook his head and looked at himself in the rear-view mirror. Shutting his eyes briefly, he put the mirror back to its former position and continued to drive.

*~*

She had been pacing for most of the last three hours and the psychiatrist was beginning to feel slightly dizzy.

“Parker, he won’t come back any sooner by you making laps around my room.”

She sent a glare in his direction but stopped when she saw him smile at her. “Are you deliberately provoking me, Sydney?”

He nodded. “Anything to make you stop. I’m feeling motion-sick just watching.”

She sighed and dropped into a chair. “I’m just edgy.”

“Why? We don’t even know if he went there.”

Miss Parker raised an eyebrow in his direction. “Of course he went there! Where else would he go?”

Sydney shrugged and then gasped at the pain. Miss Parker leapt to her feet and came over to him.

“I’m sorry, Syd. I forgot that you were still an invalid.” She gently touched his hand. “Is there anything you need?”

“Not right now.” He grasped her hand. “Just some quiet company.”

She smiled slightly. “Can I pace?”

He looked sternly at her. “As long as you do it without talking about it.”

“Agreed.” Miss Parker freed her hand and recommenced her pacing while Sydney shut his eyes and tried to ease the pain in his shoulder.

*~*

Jarod eased open the cover and dropped silently through it into the darkness of the air vents. He hadn’t been inside the Centre since Lyle had attempted to brainwash him, thus his feelings of repulsion at this moment were strong. If he didn’t have definite reasons for being where he was, he could thing of a lot of places he would rather be. Glancing to both the left and right, he began to make his way slowly and silently along the dark passageways, climbing down several ladders to come in behind an office of a familiar figure. He glared down at the head as it sat at the desk below him and had a strong urge to pull out his gun and blow out the brains of the man that sat there. Controlling his anger, he made his way along the passageway, finally arriving at his planned destination.

*~*

Miss Parker opened her eyes suddenly to see the blank wall in front of her. She had stopped short of walking into it as the image assailed her from some unknown source and she had felt powerless to stop it. As she faced the cream paint, she couldn’t resist the urge to put out a hand and touch it to make sure that it was real.

“Parker?”

She could hear the concern on Sydney's voice and turned.

“What is it?”

“I saw something. I saw…” She struggled to put a name to her vision. “I saw a person – going through darkness.”

“Jarod?”

Miss Parker shut her eyes and leaned against the wall, willing the vision to come back to her. The blackness was all that was visible, but she couldn’t be sure of whether it was due to the fact that she wasn’t seeing anything or that there wasn’t anything to see except the dark. With a deep sigh, she opened her eyes again.

“Relax, Parker. If there’s something you have to see, you will. This doesn’t come to you unless it really means something, we’ve established that.”

“Gee,” she answered sarcastically. “Thanks for the advice, Freud.” Turning, she abruptly left the room.

*~*

Jarod opened the vent and let himself down into the room below, gently and silently scooping the baby up out of the cradle and, ignoring a bag that stood nearby, picked up a pile of things from a nearby table and stuffed them into the bag he carried before awkwardly climbing back up into the darkness. It was the work of only twenty minutes before the two of them were out of the Centre. Jarod walked silently through the trees to the grove where the car was parked. He fastened the baby into the capsule in the back seat of the car and then, getting behind the wheel, allowed the back tires to spin slightly in the soft soil as he sped away.

*~*

“He’s got him.”

Miss Parker burst into the room where Steven was talking quietly to Sydney while he administered a dose of painkiller.

“Got whom?”

“My brother.”

“Lyle?” Sydney’s expression showed his nervousness.

“No, not him. The baby. He got him out of the Centre.”

*~*

Pulling up outside the tumbledown shack on the edge of the town, Jarod glanced over his shoulder at the baby asleep in the capsule. He pulled his gun out of the holster and exited the vehicle. After glancing carefully around, he walked over to the door of the shack and raised a hand to tap. Before he could do so, the door opened and his half-brother stood there holding a bag in one hand.

“She told me you were here.”

“Did she tell you anything else?”

Ethan shook his head and Jarod grinned. “Good. Then let’s get out of here.”

The two climbed into the car and it left the area as rapidly and quietly as it had arrived.

*~*

“Are you okay?”

“Fine, Parker. You can stop worrying now.”

“And who says I was worrying?”

Jarod grinned at the tone of her voice. “Okay, so you weren’t worrying.”

“I never said that.”

He shook his head in frustration. “Is my father there?”

“What…oh, yeah, sure.” He heard her handing the phone over and then his father’s voice was audible on the end of the line.

“Son, is everything okay?”

“Yup. We’ll be back as soon as we’ve pick up some more food. Of course, we’ll have to take a bit of a roundabout way back, but we should be there fairly soon.

“Take care of yourselves.”

“We will, Dad. You too.”

Jarod terminated the call and glanced across at Ethan.

“You ready to meet your family?”

“Half of it.”

Jarod laughed softly in order not to wake the baby.

“You’ve met the other half and I know what a fun experience that was for you. Let’s just stick with the nice, sane, normal half.”

Ethan looked at his brother out of the corner of his eye and with the hint of a smile on his face. “You’re sane?”

*~*

Jarod picked up the baby capsule and followed Ethan into the dark house. It was already past two a.m. and he had warned his brother when they drove up that the others would probably be in bed. The lack of light within the house told him that his assumption was right but he heard footsteps as he entered the living room and turned on the light to see his sister standing there. She took one look at the baby and took the capsule from her brother immediately.

“Where on earth…?”

“The same place,” Jarod grinned, “that the rest of us came from: the Centre. And now,” he glanced at his half-brother, “my body is beginning to forget what a mattress feels like so, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get us all set up so that I can go to bed.” He lifted the tiny form out and cradled it expertly against his chest as his sister watched, open-mouthed.

“When did you learn…?”

Jarod shook his head. “Bed. Now.” Placing one hand on her shoulder, he steered her in the direction of the stairs.

“Where are we sleeping?” Ethan asked, trailing along behind his brother, yawning tiredly.

“Dad said he’d set up a bed for you. If need be, we can rearrange things in the morning.” He led the way up the stairs and opened doors along the corridor until he found what he was seeking and he pointed out the bathroom before saying a polite goodnight and taking the baby into the room he had glimpsed earlier. Gently putting the infant into the crib and covering it, he lit the lamp in the corner and left again.

When he finally reached his own room, he eased his shoes off with a sigh and allowed his jacket to slip from his shoulders, dropping it in the corner.

“You’ll find it more easily in the morning if you hang it up.”

Jarod visibly jumped and looked over his shoulder to where she was sitting up and watching him.

“Hello.”

His answer was a wide yawn that made him feel as though he’d dislocated his jaw and he stumbled over to sit on the edge of the bed.

“What are you still doing up? It must be…” He trailed off to look at his watch but found that his eyes wouldn’t focus properly on it. He yawned again and felt Miss Parker's hands on his shoulders as she eased him backwards so that he was lying in her legs.

“Very romantic and all,” he joked sleepily. “But not the most convenient position for sleeping.”

She smiled down at him and ran a gentle finger down his cheek. “Then you’ll have to move.”

“Remind me,” he groaned as he swung his legs up onto the bed, “how one goes about that again.”

Sliding off her legs, he let his head fall back onto the pillow and groaned once more, looking up at her.

“Are you going to sleep too or were you planning to spend the night sitting there?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she laughed. “It could be fun.”

“And dark,” he muttered, turning off the lamp that had been lighting the room during the conversation. “G’night.”

He felt her lower herself onto the mattress and creep closer to him. He put out an arm and she took hold of it and wrapped it around her waist. Whether she moved further or not, he never knew.

*~*

The room was fairly bright by the time he blearily opened his eyes later that morning. Yawning and stretching lazily, he sat up and looked around. The room was completely empty and he glanced around once more before contemplating rolling over and going back to sleep. As he was about to do so, however, the door opened and a head poked itself inside.

“Morning Steve,” Jarod muttered as he blearily opened one eye.

“Going to get up?”

“Hmm, not sure.”

“Are you sick, Jarod?” The sight of his father’s head in the doorway made the pretender sit upright in bed.

“No, Dad. Just contemplating sleeping in.”

His father laughed and then looked at his watch. “It’s already ten thirty. How much more sleep does a grown man need? Your sister and Miss Parker have been mothering that child for three hours.”

Jarod swung his legs over the side of the bed and groaned. “Could we please be a little less cheerful right now? It’s painful.”

“Jarod! Get down here!”

The call came from downstairs and was met with an immediate response as the Pretender stood up and, still barefoot, left the room at a rapid pace.

“I guess,” he heard as he began to descend the staircase, “that all he needed was the right incentive.

Jarod was still laughing from his father’s comment as he entered the room to find the two women of the house indulging in baby-worship. He stood in the doorway and watched for several moments before they noticed him.

“Are you awake now?”

“Umm, give me time to think about that.” Jarod grinned as he came over to them and sat down in front of them.

The baby held out his arms and Jarod picked him up and cuddled him. “How’s Sydney?”

“Not bad.” Steven came in and sat down in front of the group. “He had a slight fever last night but is better this morning. He wants to know when he can get up.”

“Soon,” Jarod responded to the look that Miss Parker was giving him with a smile. “Very soon, I promise.”

“Jarod?”

“Yeah?” He looked up to see her looking at her with a worried expression.

“Did everything go okay?”

He nodded as the baby began to squirm on his lap. “Without a hitch.”

“And why didn’t you take the bag?”

He looked up at her and his amazement was obvious. “How did you know?”

She refused to look at him for a moment and, leaning forward, he took her chin in his hand and forced her eyes to meet his. “How did you know, Parker?” Every word was carefully enunciated and he waited for her to continue.

“I saw you.” Her voice was soft and hesitant.

“When?”

”When you were creeping into the Centre. You were…”

Jarod nodded. “You saw it – with your inner sense.”

Miss Parker looked up at him and he could detect the fear in her eyes. “Jarod, I don’t know how to deal with it. What does it mean?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know why you saw us, but you obviously did.” He grinned at her, changing the subject abruptly. “As for why I didn’t want to take the bag, you could have worked that one out for yourself.”

“You were worried,” Miss Parker responded, realization dawning in her eyes, “that they might be able to track you through it.”

He nodded. “That’s also the reason that the few things I brought for the trip from the Centre are sitting in a dumpster outside the shopping mall where we bought replacements.”

She grinned at him as the baby reached up and pulled on Jarod’s hair, giggling with delight. The pretender gently released the tiny hand, passing the baby over to his sister and getting up off the floor.

“Where are you going?”

“To see Sydney.”

The Music of the Heart
Part 5 - Presto


Jarod tapped gently on the door of the room, wondering if Sydney was awake. A suspicious sound from within made him push open the door to find the psychiatrist about to trip on the cord of the dressing gown he was wearing.

"What on earth...?"

Stepping over, Jarod was able to grab the uninjured arm and steady the older man before he fell completely.

"Sydney, are you insane?"

"No," the words were muttered from between clenched teeth. "Frustrated."

"And in pain," Jarod steered the figure to the bed and helped him up onto it before gently peeling back the gown and pajama top to check that the wound hadn't reopened. Satisfied, he replaced the garments and took a seat beside the bed, a questioning look on his face.

"So what did you think you were doing?"

"Trying to get out of this room. I could hear you all downstairs and wanted to go outside."

In answer, Jarod reached across and opened the blinds. Instead of the sunshine that Sydney had been expecting, he saw that thick fog was effectively carpeting the area, allowing only limited light into the room.

"I would have thought that you might have expected me to allow you up as soon as it was possible, but in this weather you can forget it. The whole house is freezing because of that stuff, except for this room and the living room. If I were you, I'd thank my lucky stars that you can stay in bed. I wish I could."

"And why can't you?" Sydney's tones were sharp with a mixture of pain and frustration.


"Because I have a baby to take care of, as well as Ethan to adjust to us all. Good enough?"

Sydney straightened up in bed and looked at his former protégée sharply. "Did everything go well at the Centre?"

"As well as could be expected. I'm going to start hunting through to see how everything's ticking over in Blue Cove, but I’d expect them all to be running around frantically, especially Parker's father. That child is a valuable entity to him."

"That child..." Sydney spoke softly and his face took on a somewhat thoughtful expression. Blinking several times to dispel it, he looked up to find that Jarod was looking at him severely once again.

"Are you going to stay here now or do I have to consider sending somebody up to keep you company?"

"If I wanted to get up..." Sydney tried to speak firmly, but Jarod finished his sentence in a way that diminished the impact he wanted to make.

"...I would inject you with enough sedative to keep you asleep for a week. It's important that you keep that arm still! I would have believed such behaviour from Parker, or," he added in a moment of complete honesty, "even from myself - but not from you. So which is it going to be?"

Sydney looked up and then winced again as he felt pain stab at his shoulder. It wasn't the ideal answer, but it certainly told Jarod all he needed to know. Getting up, he prepared the tablet, crushing it into a little water and stirring to dissolve it. His movements as he supported Sydney while he drank were gentle and a direct contrast to his earlier speech. The figure in the doorway watched the scene pass with a slight smile on her lips before she turned and went back down the stairs. Jarod, meanwhile, helped Sydney to lie down and then watched for a moment as the drug took effect. During the last few seconds between sleeping and waking, Sydney's lips moved and Jarod leaned in enough to hear the whispered words.

"That child...your..."

"Sydney!" It was too late. The medication had taken full effect and Jarod was left to contemplate its possible meaning. His brain was spinning with possibilities as he descended the stairs.

*~*

His eyes darkened as he read through the files his careful searches had revealed and he was unable to prevent his hands from curling themselves into tight fists. When he felt gentle hands begin to try and unclench the fingers, he looked over to find Miss Parker sitting beside him and he tried to smile.

"What did you find?"

"More than I wanted to."

"Jarod!" The voice from the other side of the room broke through the beginning of the conversation and the pretender looked over at his sister. "What is this child's name, anyway? We can't keep on calling it 'it'."

Jarod turned back to the screen and read the word that he had found on the files aloud, a gleam twinkling in his eye. "Proteus."

"What?!" The word came out like an explosion from his sister and his father choked on his drink.

"Proteus. That's the project name and consequently the child's name. Raines and his assistant didn't see any need for giving the child a proper name as it was intended to pass all of its day in the Centre anyway. Bad habit they seem to have developed." Jarod grinned at Steven, but the expression went unseen by his young clone.

"His assistant?" Miss Parker's voice was thoughtful but Jarod could detect a note of bitterness. "I wonder who that could be...?"

The question was rhetorical and Jarod ignored it, walking over and picking up the child and carrying it back to the table.

"Steve!" The boy glanced up from the book in which he had been absorbed, having missed the entire conversation.

"Yeah?"

"I don't suppose you have such a thing as a microscope here that I might be permitted to use?"

"Well," the boy dropped the book and got up off the floor. "I might be willing, for a fee..." He left the room and Jarod glanced at the woman beside him with an eyebrow raised.

"I had no idea that I had such a potential to become a capitalist!"

She sniggered in appreciation of the joke and he grinned in response. In the meantime, he handed the baby to her and, when his clone reappeared with the case, prepared a slide for use. A clean needle provided the drop of blood he needed from the child and he left Miss Parker to calm its sobs while he took a sample of his own.

"What are you looking for, son?"

Major Charles had got up from his chair and now came over to the table.

"The answer to something that Sydney said."

Jarod's words were careless and his father could tell that he was concentrating on the task he had set himself.

The room was silent for a few moments while the occupants waited for the results to come back. After the time had passed, Jarod sat back in his chair with a sigh and called up several numbered files from the Centre's mainframe.

"What is it, Jarod?" With a pacified baby in her arms, Miss Parker leaned forward and forced the man to look at her. "What did you find?"

"This." The word was a growl and acted as sufficient stimulus to bring Emily and Steven to the table also. Jarod turned the computer so that the others could see it and indicated the data with a wave of his hand. "This is a result of a DNA test. As you can see, the results are identical."

"Yours and Steven's."

Jarod shook his head, his mouth grim.

"This," he pointed at the second of the two, "belongs to the baby." Touching a button, he brought up a third table. It, too, was identical. "This," he tapped the first, "is mine. And this one is Steven's."

"They cloned you - again?" Miss Parker whispered and she clutched the baby to her.

Jarod shrugged. "I don't know." He caught the boy's eye and could see the pain on his face that he had first felt when he had learnt about his own double. "It could be me - or it could be Steven."

*~*

Jarod looked up to find Steven pacing the floor. Miss Parker and Emily had gone to take the baby up for a nap, and his father and brother had gone to check on Sydney. Shaking his head slightly, Jarod turned back to the problem at hand.

"What is it, Steven?"

He broke the silence that had been slowly building in the room and sat back while his clone turned and looked at him.

"I don't know..."

"What to say next or how to feel?"

The boy's brow furrowed then he looked up. "Did you feel like this, too?"


Jarod nodded. "Exactly the same way, yes. I can understand why you wouldn't have. I mean, you didn't know me and had no idea about me. How could you possibly understand who I was? But when I first saw you..." Jarod's voice trailed off as he remembered the event.

"Will we ever know - if he's yours or mine?"

Jarod shook his head uncertainly. "I doubt it. The files, though, give your number as the 'donor' and not mine. We have to assume that that's correct."

"So what now?" The boy pulled a chair out from under the table, straddling it and resting his chin on its back as he stared at the man opposite him. "What should I do now?"

Jarod tried not to smiled but failed, finally grinning widely. In order to prevent his clone from misunderstanding, he explained. "You could feed him a bowl of ice-cream..."

The two stared at one another for several seconds before they both burst into loud laughter. It took several moments before there was silence and then Jarod reached across and touched the boy's hand.

"You have to decide how you'll react to this - part of you. He's only a baby, so you've got time to make that decision about the future. When he's old enough to understand, we can try to explain it to him. That is, explain as much as we can of the situation without having to teach him advanced courses in biology."

Steven allowed a grin to cross his face again before looking serious once more. "And how are you going to treat him? He's still you - a part of you too. Kind of like a descendent or something but with the same genes."

"I don't know." Jarod looked thoughtful. "I guess I need some time to think about it as well."

*~*

Sinking his head in his hands and believing himself to be alone, Jarod allowed himself the luxury of a hollow groan. The hands that gently came to rest on the back of his neck made him jump and gasp as he turned around to face the woman who had come in without him hearing her.

"What are you doing?"

"Being startled, apparently."

He reached up and grabbed her hand, directing her into the seat beside him. For a moment his dismal discovery was forgotten in contemplating the woman who sat in front of him. He could detect the new sadness in her eyes that not even the various and amazing events of the last few days had managed to banish. With a gentle hand, he brushed her hair away from her eyes and then leaned forward, allowing himself the chance to kiss her. Miss Parker hardly moved as he brushed her lips with his own but she reached out and prevented him from pulling away. There was silence in the kitchen for several moments while the two allowed themselves this short time of self-indulgence. The female figure that had been about to come in stopped tactfully at the doorway and watched for a second or two before withdrawing as silently as she had come.

They would never know she had been there...

When they finally pulled apart, it wasn't far. Miss Parker drew her chair up so that it was touching his and he kept an arm around her waist while he turned back to the computer, explaining what he had found.

"I hacked into Sydney's account. I figured that if Broots had the chance to send me a message, he might have done the same to Syd as well." Jarod turned to see the tear began to trickle down her face. "I'm sorry, Maleah. This was a bad time to bring it up. Should I wait until later?"

She shook her head and brought one of her hands up to his face, stroking it gently. With a final concerned glance at her, he turned back to the computer.

"I was right. He did have time. He sent Sydney - this..." Jarod opened the file and allowed her to look through the information. It took her only a fraction of a second to recognize it. The pages showed the same three DNA test results that she had been shown by Jarod earlier.

"So he found out about the baby? That was it?"

"That was enough. Anything and everything about that child is the tightest secret of the entire Centre. They're combing the country for him - for us right now." He paused, swallowing hard. "I tried to find out something about him just after he was born, but couldn't. I don't know how Broots managed to get this, but he obviously did. He sent it to you, as well." Jarod stopped again, unable to continue for a moment. "That was what Lyle meant, back at the house. Parker, they want us all dead and buried. There's no more 'dead or alive' for me or any of us. It's now 'shoot on sight'. And that's what they tried to do."

"So how did Sydney know?"

"He found the email, presumably worked out what would happen and fled. He left the Centre more than twenty minutes before you and Broots did. I don't know why he didn't tell..." Jarod stopped. "Yes, I do. He knew that it was too late for Broots and was hoping to get to me before you found out about it."

"What would you have done?" Miss Parker's voice was soft in his ear and Jarod turned to her.

"Anything and everything necessary."

He turned his head so that it was resting on hers and sighed deeply as he wrapped his second arm, with which he had been operating the computer, around her body. They sat like that for a few brief moments before Miss Parker spoke.

"What are we going to do, Jarod?"

He rocked her slowly; trying to come up with some comforting words that would reduce the panic he knew was rising in both of them. Finally, forcing his emotions aside, he could only come up with one sentence.

"Parker, we're going to survive."

*~*

It seemed to take him a long time to get up the stairs that night. Slowly everything was building up inside and around him until he was beginning to wonder if he could deal with it. And everybody seemed to be asking him for help, needing him. Wasn't there anybody that he could rely on? The question had begun to eat away at him inside as he watched the others gather that night downstairs. He had opened the door of the house and walked out of it, unable, for an instant, to deal with the pressure that felt so overwhelming. He had walked away from the house and leaned with his back against a tree, looking up at the moon that had appeared behind the clouds with a brilliance that was astonishing considering the dimness of daylight that the fog had caused. He thought of the occupants of the house behind him - his father, sister and brothers, Sydney, Miss Parker and the baby that didn't fit anywhere yet. They were all relying on him to provide the answers, to help save their lives.

For a moment he had been thankful for the sturdiness of the tree that he leaned against: it was the only thing keeping him upright.

He opened the door of the bedroom, having noticed in the dark hallway that there was no light showing under the door. She was probably in with the baby, or with Sydney who had woken up from the sedative and would want the same kind of comfort that Parker herself had needed that afternoon; a kind of comfort, he thought as he walked into the room and shut the door, that he would have to give. Slowly, numbly, he slipped his t-shirt off over his head and dropped in onto the floor. For a moment he stood with his back against the door and his eyes closed, pressure building within. Finally something gave and he threw himself face down on the bed, sobbing in a way that he hadn't for months - no, years. In fact he could never remember experiencing as much helpless as he did at that moment, with people needing him and he not feeling able to be there for them. And they were the most important people in the world to him. Jarod grabbed a pillow and put it over his face, muffling his sobs and using it to hide his tears.

He didn't realize when he first consciously felt the gentle hand that was stroking the back of his head in smooth, regular movements. It was only once the first frantic waves of emotion had passed that he became aware of the touch. Rolling slightly onto his side, he looked up. The moonlight streaming in through the window allowed him enough light to see her long hair shining and her own eyes full of tears as she looked down at him. He turned away from her, burying his face once more and trying to hide the emotion that was leaving him trembling violently. He felt her lie down beside him and wrap her arms around him but he stayed tense, not wanting to show how much he was suffering. She gently eased the pillow out of his hands and began to stroke the side of his head, tenderly allowing the tips of her fingers to brush his cheek. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing out the last few tears, and then slowly began to turn towards her.

As he turned his head, she captured his face in her hands and slowly began to wipe the traces of tears away from his cheeks. With difficulty, he eased himself onto his side and paused for a moment, looking up at her through the moonlight that still streamed steadily onto the bed. He buried his face in her neck, feeling her hands as they continued to gently move on his back and neck. His hands became entangled in her hair and he leaned even further in towards her, feeling a strange comfort in her nearness and the knowledge that she wouldn't be going anywhere. He still trembled - the storm of emotion had been too great to be recovered from immediately - and he had to take in several deep breaths before he felt himself able to pull away again. Grateful for the dimness of the light, he looked up at her and found that she was watching him as well.

Jarod reached up and placed the palm of his hand against her cheek and she responded by covering the hand with her own. He felt himself slowly begin to grow wearier, and yet at the same time there was a new strength within him that he had never felt before. He put his other arm around her back and pressed her closer to him, listening to her groan slightly as she released his hand and began to play with his hair and once more stroke his face. She lowered her face to his and it seemed the most natural thing in the world for them to be kissing. He moved in closer to her but suddenly felt her pull away. Startled, he drew back also and looked up at her. She shook her head and, reaching down, gently touched his lips with her fingertips.

"Not tonight." The whisper was soft but audible to his ears. "It's not right, not yet."

In his heart he agreed with her, but his urges were strong and he had to remind himself that part of what he was feeling was from emotion that had existed before he had even known she was there. For a moment he paused, before nodding. An expression - a mixture of gratitude and understanding - crossed her face and she smiled at him with such a look of love in her eyes that he felt his own fill once more with hot, salty tears. It was at that moment that he realized how much he truly loved her.

*~*

The sun sent the first rays of light over the window frame and onto the bed and Miss Parker stirred slightly as she felt the warmth on her bare arms. For several minutes she remained still, enjoying the feeling of comfort and closeness before opening her eyes and looking down at him. His face was turned in towards her and his arms were entwined around her back. One leg lay on top of both of hers and his shape seemed perfectly fitted to her own. She heaved a deep sigh and slowly began to draw backwards. He stiffened in her arms and, despite still being fast asleep, turned his face up towards hers before he relaxed once more. As she looked down at him, an expression of pity came into her eyes. He was looking pale and drawn, with new, small lines around his mouth and eyes that she hadn't remembered seeing there before. Gently she traced the outline of his mouth with a finger and smiled as she tried to extricate herself from his grasp. He tensed for a moment before his eyelids lifted and he turned his deep, brown eyes to look at her.

"Going somewhere?" His voice contained a sort of suppressed chuckle and she smiled in response.

"Hmm." She jokingly pretended to think for a moment. "I have some shopping that needs to be done, and then there's the kitchen that needs cleaning and of course the baby will need changing."

"Or you could just stay here." His voice deepened. "With me."

She tapped him on his naked chest and drew back. "And what would Sydney say if he could see us now?"

A wary expression came into the Pretender's eyes as an answer to her banter came into his mind immediately. Fearful of hurting her, he determined not to state it, but she had noticed the hesitation immediately.

"What is it?"

"Well, I..." He stopped before plunging on regardless. "I was wondering what your father would say if he could see us now."

She pulled herself out of his arms and sat upright on the bed, her back resting against the window frame behind them. When she turned to look at him again, her eyes bore an expression of deep concern.

"What are we going to do, Jarod? How are we going to deal with the Centre?"

He took one of her hands between both of his and pressed it, tenderly but firmly. "We will, Maleah. We'll find a way to finally get rid of them for good. And when we do, then we can plan ahead and think about a future."

"Together?"

She asked the question that he had thought also and he gathered her to himself, pressing his mouth close to her ear.

"Together. For ever."

She turned her head so that their mouths met again. There was still time before they had to be downstairs, and now they had all the time in the world.

The Music of the Heart
Part 6 – Pianissimo


Miss Parker pushed open the door of Sydney's room and peered inside. She found the psychiatrist sitting up in bed, staring out of the window and into the fog that was still surrounding the house.

"Morning, Syd."

He turned to her with a half-smile on his face. "It would seem that you were both awake early this morning."

"You were listening."

"I could hardly help hearing." His voice contained a hint of amusement, which dropped away as he spoke the next sentence. "Is he all right?"

She sat down on the edge of the bed. "I think so." She paused. "I hope so. But I'm not sure." She sighed heavily. "I don't even understand exactly what it was that made him react like that, and that's what concerns me."

"He's worried."

She raised an eyebrow. "I've got news for you. He's not the only one. Broots is dead and the rest of us are on the hit list. That should give all of us grounds for being worried, I would say."

"But just put yourself in his position..."

"Hey, I thought that was my specialty!" The deep voice from the doorway made both occupants jump and Miss Parker turned to see Jarod standing there with the baby in his arms.

"Good morning, Jarod." Sydney spoke calmly to his protégée as though they had not been talking about him when he walked in and Jarod grinned as he strolled over to the bed.

"How are you this morning?"

"Probably better for not trying to walk around the room," Miss Parker cut in with a somewhat vindictive smile on her lips.

"Very possibly," Sydney responded, still in that calm tone of voice as he looked from Miss Parker to Jarod. "But I will be even better if I can get up today."

Jarod tilted his head on one side and looked thoughtful while the baby tugged on his hair. "We-ell, I'm not sure. Another day wouldn't hurt..."

"For heaven's sake, Jarod, that fog isn't going to break for any decent length of time for days. If we're waiting for that to happen, we could be waiting for ever!" Miss Parker spoke in a tone of some asperity. With an infuriating grin, he sat down on the end of the bed.

"You should be thankful for it. That fog is what's keeping the Centre away from us. If it wasn't for that, they would have a much better chance of finding us."

"And what are we going to do when they do?"

The question came out before Miss Parker could stop it and Jarod tried to grin again, although his face was more serious.

"That's why I came up here. I want us all down in the living room for a few hours to discuss a plan of action. It will happen - we know it - so we may as well be prepared."

"And that means...?" The psychiatrist was unable to hide the eagerness in his voice as he looked up. Jarod laughed aloud as he handed the baby to Miss Parker and, standing up, turned to face Sydney and held out his hand.

*~*

Major Charles stoked the fire and looked over to check that there was enough wood on the woodpile beside the door. He could always send one of his sons - he now felt as though he had four living ones, including the baby - out to get more but he wanted to avoid it if it were at all possible. The weather was too horrible for anybody to be out in it more than they had to be, the fog having made an early reappearance that morning.

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Miss Parker come down the stairs with the baby in her arms and then his son following, supporting Sydney as he came down also. Charles stepped over and, between the two of them, they got the psychiatrist seated opposite the fire. Jarod tucked a blanket around his legs and checked that the injured arm was in the most comfortable position before moving over to sit beside his sister. With a grin, she turned and whispered in his ear.

"Care to revise your statements of the other night?"

He grinned. "I didn't make any, so there's nothing to revise. You made the assumptions that I neither denied nor admitted."

"You should be a lawyer," she grumbled under her breath.

"I have been. It's highly overrated - along with just about everything else."

"Son, are we ready to start?"

Jarod looked up to find Major Charles grinning at him. "Sure thing."

"And are you conducting this or am I?"

"Oh, you go ahead. Head of the family and all, you know." It was with difficulty that Jarod prevented himself from glancing over at Sydney while he said this.

"Right." Major Charles cleared his throat. "We've all heard about the situation as it stands and know roughly - or exactly - how much danger we're all in. Thus, we have several options. First, we can stay here until they come, in which case it has to be truthfully admitted that we'll probably all be dead as a result."

Jarod glanced over to see Miss Parker shudder and nodded slightly, feeling the same way himself.

"Our second option is to think short-term only. We've all - or many of us - been successfully on the run from them for some time and their best tracking team is now among of us, so we could possibly stay free for a while. A little while."

Sydney glanced over at Miss Parker as they were referred to and smiled at her in sympathy.

"Or we can look at it in the longer term. We know enough, among all of us, to bring even an empire like the Centre to their knees, if we wanted to. It would only be a matter of careful organization." He looked around the room. "Now, I would assume that option one would probably be the least popular, and I can't say that option two strikes any kind of chord in me. Which really only leaves us with one possibility."

Jarod nodded and stood up to join his father. "I know that the thought of going up against the Centre is probably pretty concerning for most of us and I can't really say I'm dying to get started either, but I think it's necessary. Do we have any dissenters?"

He looked around at each person and saw the same expressions on every face that could probably be seen on his own. Turning to his father, he nodded once. "I think we have agreement. We go against the Centre and bring it down."

"And how?"

The voice belonged to the youngest of the vocal group that were now refugees, but all recognized the sense in the question. It was one that they were all asking themselves.

"That, as the Danish Prince so well put it, is the question. Luckily, the elements appear to be working with us - this fog seems like it's going to hang around for some time yet. That will give us a definite advantage. We can work out our own plans while keeping an eye on what the Centre itself is up to." Major Charles walked over to the window and pulled open the curtain that he had shut to block out the dreary day, standing and staring out into the half-light while the others silently watched with him.

*~*

"Do you think it's possible to destroy the Centre?"

Emily turned and watched Miss Parker as she asked the question, the two of them putting the baby to bed as the sparse light of day faded.

"I don't know." Miss Parker slipped the tiny suit onto the body of the baby and zipped it up at the back, laying the child in his crib. "But we can only try. And I'd rather die trying than live in fear, always running from them."
Emily nodded slowly and then turned and faced the woman, her eyes large and dark in a pale face. "I'm scared."
Miss Parker came over and slipped an arm around her shoulders. "Want to know something? So am I." This first confession came much more easily than it would have, had she been forced to make it to Jarod or one of the others. "And I would bet that the others are, too. Still, we have to try."

*~*

Jarod awoke that night as soon as she called out. There was a sense of panic in her voice and he rolled over and gathered her in his arms, shaking her firmly to wake her. "Parker? Parker!"

"No, no!" Her voice was a cry and he couldn't help shuddering at the sheer desperation and anguish in it.

"Parker, wake up!"

The final shake brought her into full consciousness and she jumped and then clung to him, the memory of the dream too painful to be escaped from all at once.

"What was it, Parker?" He brushed the sweat-soaked hair out of her eyes and held her close as she trembled.

"The... accident. I saw the accident again. When Broots..." Her voice broke, unable to continue.

"I know, Parker." He stroked the back of her head lovingly. "I know." He held her close to him, wondering, not for the first time, how an organization could kill just to protect itself.

*~*

Still unable to sleep after being woken by Parker's nightmare, although she had dropped off again soon after, Jarod walked down into the kitchen to try to find something to occupy his mind. A can of Dr Pepper in his hand, he walked over to the kitchen table, flipped open the computer and entered the password. After waiting for A few seconds until the key word was accepted, he opened a program and began to skim through the information that appeared on the screen.

"You have a video call," his computer announced.

Jarod looked around the room to ensure that he was alone before turning the volume right down and then activating the message. For a moment he stared at the face on the screen in shock before it spoke.

"Hello, Jarod."

The Pretender opened and closed his mouth several times without saying anything. He eyed the sticking plaster that covered a wound on the man's head and the dark shadows under his eyes.

"B...Broots?"

The man nodded slowly.

"You're dead!"

"Not last time I checked."

"Where are you?" Jarod started up from his chair and, remembering to keep his voice low, once more checked that the room was empty.

"Somewhere safe, for the moment. But I need your help. It's Debbie." A note of panic came into the technician's voice. "She's really sick and I don't know what to do!"

"What happened? Parker said you were in a car accident..."

"We were, but not the one she thought. The Centre was behind it all - you know that as well as I do. Somehow, though, they attacked the wrong car: same make, same model, same color but not us. I know that Miss Parker followed us out of the Centre but when I heard the explosion and looked back, she wasn't there. I was afraid that it might have been her and drove back, where I saw it all. I left the area as fast as possible in case they realized their mistake but they got us later. We were rammed by one of the sedans, but managed to get away, despite the damage they did to the car."

A look of mistrust appeared on Jarod's face and he sat back in the chair with his arms folded. "How do I know I can believe you?"

The pleading expression reappeared on Broots' face. "I guess you don't, not really. But you know what I sent you - all that information. They know, too, or they wouldn't have tried to kill me...us. If I were in the Centre, I'd either be dead or in Renewal Wing. You know that, Jarod."

The Pretender nodded slowly. "All right, Mr Broots, I'll come and meet you. If I still trust you then, I'll help. If not, I presume I'll find myself back in the Centre - for the time being, anyway."

"I have one more piece of possible proof."


"Bring it. Tell me where you are and I'll meet you there."

As the technician finished speaking, Jarod scribbled down the address and then cut the connection, writing a note for the others and leaving it and an open computer file on the table as he grabbed his jacket and left the house.

*~*

"Where's Jarod?"

"I don't know." Major Charles looked up as Miss Parker entered the kitchen, a satin gown draped around her body and a look of concern on her face. "He was gone when I came down this morning. But he left a note."

Miss Parker scooped up the piece of paper and let her eyes travel over the few words it contained. "He's gone back to the Centre!"

When Major Charles turned, Miss Parker could see the worry that was written on his face. "That's what I thought, too. But what I can't work out is why he would."

She snapped her fingers and stared up at him. "Angelo! He must have gone back to save Angelo!"

"That was also my first assumption, but this file was open this morning when I came downstairs. Look at it."

Miss Parker pulled the computer towards her and Major Charles leaned over her shoulder, opening the file to show her. His nearness reminded her of his son and she trembled briefly as she wondered if she would ever see him again.

"And where is the empath?"

"Uh, we don't know, sir. He disappeared on the same day that the others did. It's unknown how he got out of the Centre, or..."

"Fool!" Miss Parker could recognize the sharp tones of her father, despite the fact that he was standing out of the camera's view. "It doesn't matter to me how he got out! But we have to find him, and soon. The Pretender has a fond affection for that creep and we can use him to lure Jarod back. And once we have Jarod, it will be easy to get the others. It is imperative that we find them..."

Shutting the computer, Jarod's father looked at her. "So you see, Miss Parker, I don't think he went to the Centre. I just wish I knew where he had gone..." Major Charles trailed off and stared at a point above her head, the expression of worry on his face deepening.

*~*

Jarod pulled the car into the parking lot and lowered his sunglasses a notch as he looked around. After the fog that surrounded the house for more than twenty miles, the fine weather had come as something of a shock to his eyes but had been quickly rectified. He quickly scanned the area, having driven several times around the block to check for familiar figures or cars, relieved not to have seen any. Cautiously he got out of the car and approached the entrance of the shopping mall.

"Mr Broots?"


"Jarod!" The expression of relief was unmistakable and the man was transparent enough that Jarod knew he would never have been able to hide his nervousness had there been Centre operatives around. "Thank you so much for trusting me."

"Where's this other proof?"

"In my car."

The two made their way towards the vehicle that the technician pointed out and Jarod noticed that he was limping badly.

"From the accident?"

"Yeah. I don't know exactly what I did, but it hurts like crazy."

"If I still trust you at the end of this, I'll check it out." Jarod stopped at the car, the tinted windows of which prevented him from looking in. Broots opened the door and a figure jumped out and threw himself at Jarod.

"Angelo!" The Pretender closed his arms around the empath and listened to the words that were whispered into his ear before he straightened up. "All right, Mr Broots, I'll help you. Grab your stuff. We'll take my car."

*~*

They pulled into the driveway of a house and Broots led the way around the back to a shed. He pulled open the door and put up the blind, allowing early morning light to shine in through the window and onto the bed that sat in the corner. He stepped over to the bed and gently picked up the hand of the girl that lay there.

"Debbie?"

She opened her eyes and focused on him with difficulty. "Daddy?"

"Yes, precious. It's me." He gently and lovingly stroked her hair. "I brought someone to help us." He stepped back and let the Pretender take his place.

"Hi, Debbie. My name's Jarod." He smiled as he bent down closer to the bed, the state of the little girl having been even more convincing to him than Angelo's whispered statement. "I'm going to try and make you feel better."

"Hi, Jarod." Her voice was a faint whisper and she tried to smile. He picked up her wrist and checked her pulse while looking her over with what Broots felt was a very professional eye.

"What is it?"

Jarod shook his head, concentrating until he saw that the girl had drowsed off to sleep again. Getting up, he took the technician's arm and drew him away to the corner of the shed.

"She's got a very high fever but I can't tell much else at this stage. Where in the car was she sitting?"

"In the back seat, on the passenger side. The sedan hit right on that door and she was thrown over to the far side of the car, despite the seat belt."

Jarod's mouth narrowed to a straight line as he considered the possibilities and watched the emotion work on Broots' face.

"Can you help? Please?"

Jarod nodded. "I'll do everything I can - but not here. I don't want her to have to travel, but we don't have a choice." He met the technician's eye. "I won't lie to you, Mr Broots. Her condition looks very serious. Would you be willing to let me operate, if it was required?"

"Yes... anything..." His voice trailed away as he looked over at his daughter.

"Then we need to get ready to go."

*~*

"Parker?"

"Jarod! Jarod, where are you?" She jumped up from the chair and met the eye of Major Charles as he sat opposite her.

"On the way back to the house. Don't worry, Parker. I'm fine."

"What happened?"

"Unexpected stop." He glanced back in the rear view mirror to where Broots sat, his daughter's head in his lap, and then to where Angelo sat next to him. "We'll be there soon. Is Dad there?"

She handed the phone over and immediately began impatiently pacing the length of the room, trying to keep her concern under wraps.

"You want what, son? Two more rooms? And one set up as what?" He reached over and grabbed a notepad, writing several things down before capping the pen again. "I'll do everything I can. The fog's still thick here, Jarod. Be careful."

"I will, Dad. See you soon." Jarod disconnected the call and passed the phone back to Angelo, who shoved it into one of several bags of things that they had stopped to buy on the way.

"Is everything okay?"

Jarod nodded. "There's a lot of fog on the road, though, so we'll have to drive a little slower."

"And you didn't tell them...?"

Looking in the rear-view mirror again, Jarod caught Broots' eye. "Miss Parker still hasn't gotten over the fact that she thought she saw you die. If I told her on the phone that you were still alive, I couldn't even begin to imagine what her reaction would be. Besides," a grin creased his features, "it'll be a nice surprise." And, he added silently to himself, her reaction might distract you from your daughter for long enough for me to work out what's really wrong with her.

*~*

Half an hour later they pulled into the driveway and Jarod stopped the car right in front of the door. He put the bag in Angelo's hand and looked him in the eye.

"Can you take care of this for me until I need it?"

The empath nodded, his face serious, and clutched the bag with both hands while Jarod undid the seatbelt that had been holding him in place. Getting out of the car, he opened the rear door and swung the unconscious body of the little girl up into her arms, hoping wordlessly that it wouldn't do any more damage than the accident had already caused. Broots was beside him in a moment.

"Where are we?"

"Somewhere safe. Very safe."

Jarod led the way up the steps and had Angelo open the door. The group was gathered around the fireplace. He walked in among them, but his appearance was nothing to that of the man who entered behind him.

"B... Broots?"

Miss Parker slowly rose from her chair and only the blanket tucked tightly around his legs prevented Sydney from doing the same.

"Miss Parker..." His voice trailed away as he stood there, looking helpless for a few seconds before she ran forward and, to his eternal amazement, hugged him. Meanwhile Jarod caught Steven's eye and the two left the room, the Pretender carrying the girl into the room that Steven showed Jarod had been set up as the operating room he had earlier requested.

"What happened?"

"Car accident." Jarod spoke shortly as he removed the outer clothing and began a more thorough investigation of the little girl. "She was thrown when the car was hit from the side at full speed."

He saw that his clone was thinking through the same possibilities in his mind Jarod had earlier considered and, despite the seriousness of the situation, it was an effort for him to keep a straight face as he noted the similarities to himself.

"No leg or arm injury, except for bruising and slight lacerations. It's all the torso and possibly the head."

As he finished speaking, the girl opened her eyes and looked up at him.

"Hi, Debbie." He smiled at her. "It's Jarod."

"Where's...?"

"Your Daddy's downstairs. I just want to check you over and then you can see him, okay?"

She nodded faintly and he used the movement to check visually for unbalanced behaviour, relieved to find none and permitting himself to take that as a sign that there was no damage to the head.

"Debbie, is there anywhere that hurts more?"

"My tummy."

"Where?"

"All over."

Jarod nodded. "Okay, Debbie. Just relax. You're going to be fine."

She gave him a tiny smile and closed her eyes.

"What is it?" The whisper from the boy was almost inaudible. "Internal injuries?"

"Internal bleeding, I suspect. It'll be a matter of finding the source."

He met the eyes of the boy standing on the other side of the bed and could see the tension that was reflected in his own.

"I'll go and tell her father."

The Music of the Heart
Part 7 - Piano


Jarod opened the door to find Sydney, Miss Parker and Broots waiting outside the room.

"What is it, Jarod?" The psychiatrist was the first to speak but Jarod's eyes were trained on the anxious father. He stepped out, pulling the door closed behind him.

"What is it? Is it bad?" Broots leaned back against the wall, his face pale.

"It's difficult to say." Jarod paused. "I think it's likely that there are internal injuries, but we won't be able to say for sure unless we operate." He stopped again. "We might need a hand, Sydney. With the anesthetic, I mean. This could be too big for just one of us alone. We'll provide a seat for you."

Sydney nodded. "As long as Broots is happy for me to do it, I can try."

Jarod looked at the man, who still looked too shocked to speak. "Broots, if we do this, it has to be soon. I need your permission."

The man nodded vaguely. "Do whatever you need to." He paused and then swallowed hard. "Can I see her?"

Jarod nodded. "We'll need some time to prepare. What say you and Miss Parker go in until we're ready?"

*~*

Jarod descended the stairs and walked in among the group that sat there. They all looked up at him in silence.

"What are you going to do, son?"

"We have to operate - at once."

He walked over to Angelo. The savant handed the bag over before the pretender could ask for it, grabbing Jarod's hand and squeezing it gently. "Good luck."

The Pretender stared at him for a moment before finally smiling and turning to his father. "I don't know how long it will take, Dad. It could be quite a while. They'll need..."

Major Charles reached out and touched his son on the arm. "I understand. Do what you have to do." He held his son in his arms for a moment before letting him go. "Good luck - to all of you."

The Pretender nodded, grasped the bag firmly and, turning, left the room.

He walked into the bathroom to find Sydney and Steven waiting for him. Opening the bag, he pulled out gowns and masks that he had grabbed from the place where he had got the rest of the equipment.

"We're going to have to make do. I got everything I thought was necessary, but I don't know how we're going to sterilize..."

"What do you need, Jarod?"

He turned to find Miss Parker standing in the doorway. "Hot water. Can you take a bowl of it up into the room? Oh, and a tray?"

She nodded and rapidly went down the stairs. He picked up the bag and carried it into the room where Debbie lay, her father leaning over the bed. Jarod shook his head at the man as he looked up expectantly and went over to a table. Miss Parker walked into the room and he took the tray from her and placed it onto the table, covering it with a cloth. She placed the bowl down and he thanked her with a smile as she turned away. He opened the packages and tipped the instruments into the hot water, leaving them there while he left the room again.

Returning to the bathroom, he found the others ready and, while he scrubbed his hands at the sink, he laid out the plans for the surgery.

"I’d hope only two or three hours duration. Syd," he turned and looked hard at the psychiatrist, "if that arm starts troubling you, Steve can take over. I don't want to have to take care of two patients."

Sydney nodded. "I understand, Jarod." He left the room to prepare the child for the surgery.

Jarod watched him go and then slipped his arms into the gown that Steven held ready for him and then bent down to allow him to fix on the mask.

"Parker!" His voice was slightly muffled but she appeared in the doorway. "We're ready to start. Can you...?"

"Don't worry, Jarod. I'll take care of Broots. You take care of..." Her voice broke, revealing the depth of feeling that she had for the girl.

"We will, Parker. We're going to do the best we can."

She smiled, a weak and watery smile, and turned, going into the room and coming out with Broots, who refused to look at the two masked figures that stood at the end of the hallway.

"Ready?" He met the eyes of his clone, who nodded.

"Ready."

*~*

"How's she doing?"

"Blood pressure's very low. Respiration is fast but shallow. Pulse is weak and rapid."


Jarod nodded. "Scalpel."

It was placed in his gloved hand by his clone from the tray on which Sydney had earlier laid out the instruments before anesthetizing the girl. Jarod took a deep breath before making the first incision. The blood that began to well up in the wound was of a greater than usual amount and revealed that his diagnosis had been correct. The smaller hands used gauze to absorb as much as possible until Jarod could finally see the cause of the problem.

"Kidney. Damn."

"Perforated?" Sydney asked quietly.

Jarod nodded abruptly. "Clamp."

The flow of blood slowed to a slight trickle and slowly began to suture the damaged organ. Jarod looked up to see that Sydney was beginning to lose color and he glanced at his assistant.

"Replacing anesthetist. Thank you, Sydney, for your help."

"But, Jarod..."

"Thank you," the Pretender reiterated firmly. "Go down and see how Broots is going. Tell him that we're going well here and I'll be down soon."

Sydney looked at him once again before stepping away and letting the boy take his place. As he closed the door behind him, Jarod looked across at Steven.

"You okay?"

The boy nodded. "Fine. You?"

"Good." He turned back and concentrated on his work, sighing with relief as even the slight trickle of blood finally stopped. "Considering the limitations that we're working under, we're doing well. With any luck, there'll hardly be a scar."

The boy nodded. "Her blood pressure's rising and respiration is more regular."

"Good," Jarod smiled behind the mask. "Hang in there, Debbie. We're nearly done and then your Daddy can see you."

*~*

Half an hour later, he placed the last piece of tape on the bandages and pulled the mask from his face, wiping the sweat away from his mouth.

"Good job, partner."

"You too, Doctor." The boy grinned as he pulled off his own mask and tore off his gloves. Jarod smiled in reply.

"I'm going to go and relieve the mind of her father. Do you mind hanging around for a little longer? I'll give you a break soon."

The boy nodded. "No problem." He turned back and checked on the girl that lay in front of him. Jarod smiled to himself and, tearing off his own gloves, opened the door and left the room.

He stood in the open doorway of the living room for a second before anyone noticed him and then both Broots and Miss Parker jumped to their feet.

"How is she?" The technician was pale and Jarod noticed that Miss Parker was not a lot better.

"Doing very well." He put as much confidence into his voice as possible. "We managed to stop the bleeding and she's come through the operation very well indeed. But I can't let you in to see her until we're sure she's coming around properly." And until we've cleaned up the room a little, he thought to himself. "I'll send down Steve as soon as we're ready."

"Jarod!"

He looked over at Sydney as Broots dropped into the chair in front of which he had been standing. "Yes?"

"Can I do anything?"

The younger man nodded. "Make sure that your shoulder isn't any worse." He turned and left the room abruptly.

Jarod checked on the girl's condition as the boy began sweeping soiled items into large garbage bags that the pretender had grabbed for the purpose. The two of them moved the bed away from the middle of the room until the head was resting against a wall and was accessible from either side. Jarod fasted the IV sack on a convenient picture hook in the wall, placed a chair beside the bed and then noticed that the anesthetic was wearing off.

"Debbie?" He reached over and gently touched her on the arm. "Debbie, it's time to wake up now."

Her eyes slowly fluttered opened and, after a few seconds, she focused on him.

"Hi," he smiled. "I know that you don't feel very good right now, but you're going to start feeling a lot better soon, I promise. Do you feel sick or just sore?"

"Sore." The word was a mumble through numb lips. "Can I see Daddy?"

Jarod glanced over and met Steven's eye. The boy, in answer to the prearranged signal, nodded and left the room immediately. Looking down, he saw that the girl was lying with her eyes closed, but the tenseness of the hand in his told him that she was trying to stay awake.

"He's coming now, Debbie."

As he spoke, Jarod could hear footsteps hurrying up the stairs but, as he looked up, the man paused in the doorway. The Pretender waved him in and then gently shook the little girl again.

"Your daddy's here, Debbie." He smiled at the technician but the man was too focused on his daughter to see it. Jarod took several steps around the bed, careful not to jar it, and stepped out of the room. Leaning against the wall, as he had guessed he would, he found Miss Parker.

"How is she really doing, Jarod?"

"As well as she could possibly be, Parker. I wouldn't lie to her father or you. She'll need some specialized care over the next few days, but she'll recover."

She exhaled slowly and he wrapped both arms around her, holding her tightly against himself.

"I know that, as much as you might not want to admit it, that little girl means a lot to you. If only for that reason, I would tell you the truth." He gently kissed the top of her head. "I have to go back in there now, but I think Broots could probably do with something to drink," he looked at his watch, "and maybe some lunch. And he isn't the only one."

She disentangled herself from his grasp and was gone. With a smile, Jarod re-entered the room.

"She's so... sleepy!" The expression burst from Broots as Jarod appeared in the doorway. The pretender took the frightened father by the arm and drew him into another corner.

"Mr Broots, your daughter was given enough anesthetic that she wouldn't wake up during surgery. As a result, she'll probably still be drowsy for most of the rest of today. To avoid her having to suffer through more pain than necessary, we'll be keeping her very sedated for a few days yet to give her wounds time to heal properly. That means that she'll be asleep for most of the time." He placed a hand on the man's shoulder. "Your daughter is doing very well." He stressed the last two words. "I know that you're worried about her - it's natural that you should be - but she really is doing well."

"Really?"

"Really." Jarod walked across to the bed and allowed his hand to rest on her wrist for several moments. "Her pulse is stronger and she's breathing more regularly. It couldn't be better at this stage."

He picked up the now bare table and carried it over, placing it beside the bed. "I asked Miss Parker to bring up some food. It's long past lunchtime and I'm sure you could do with something."

"Food..."

"Mr Broots, your daughter needs you. If you don't eat, I'll have another patient, and I have my hands full with Debbie and Sydney. Please, I know it's hard after all the stress, but at least try to make the effort."

The balding man nodded slowly. "All right," he said at last. "I'll try."

*~*

Jarod opened the door of the room and allowed Steven to take his place in the corner. "Got something to do?"

The boy held up a book and grinned meaningfully. Jarod laughed and shook his head. "Don't get so wrapped up in it that you forget what you have to do."

Steven grinned at the tall man and then sat down in the chair.

"I always thought that a doctor's life was an easy one," a voice mocked.

He heard the teasing voice before he even entered the bedroom and smiled at her as she sat up in bed reading a book.

"Depends on the patient. And on the patient's family. The less they know about medicine, the more difficult it is, sort of."

"Who's in there now?"

"Steve. He volunteered to take a shift until six. I told him to come and get me for my turn then." He settled into bed beside her and gathered her into his arms, kissing the top of her head. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. "I'm still trying to get over the shock of learning that he's alive - but, yes, I'm getting used to the idea."

"He was very lucky."

"I know."

"So what's the problem?"

"I just... this makes it more difficult, doesn't it?"

"Yes," he nodded soberly. "Debbie being sick - it does make things more difficult, but, in the same way, it also makes it a lot easier."

"Why?" She looked at him as though he had suddenly grown an extra head.

"Because we have Broots with us. He's much better than me at getting into the Centre's mainframe and, ironically, his assistance probably evens our chances, or makes them that little bit better."

She smiled up at him as she settled back into his arms.


"You're just wonderful, Jarod."

*~*

Jarod was awake before the door was even fully open and he cautiously sat up, trying not to disturb the woman who slept next to him.

"Is it six?"

"It's six," Steven’s voice murmured.

He got out of bed and dragged on the t-shirt that he had placed on a chair before pulling on his dressing gown and picking up the computer. Then he joined his clone in the hallway.

"How did she do?"

"Woke up at one and four. Her dad gave her some ice and then she went back to sleep. I changed her catheter and I.V. at five. I think she's beginning to rouse more fully now, but I haven't given her anything for the pain as yet. She hasn't needed it."

Jarod nodded. "Thanks, Steve." He held the boy in his arms for a moment before letting go and pushing him gently in the direction of his bedroom. "Sleep well."

He entered the room silently to find Broots sleeping with his head on the bed next to his daughter's hand. Jarod put his items down on the table that somebody had placed next to the watcher's chair the night before and then stepped over to the bed, checking for a pulse and watching the girl carefully.

"How's she doing?"

"Sydney! What are you doing up?" Just in time, Jarod remembered to keep his voice low as he turned to face his mentor.

"I heard Steven go past my door and thought I'd check that there wasn't anything wrong while I was up."

"If I tell you there isn't, will you go back to bed?"

"Not immediately." Sydney picked up another chair from the wall opposite the bed and placed it next to the one that had been left for Jarod to sit in. The Pretender allowed himself one glance of frustration, to which Sydney responded with a look of amusement, before turning back to the bed.

"Pulse stronger, respiration and pressure almost normal. Good girl, Debbie."

He stepped away from the bed and sat down opposite Sydney.

"I never thought you were this stubborn."

"I never thought you were this blind," Sydney smiled in response. "I admit that you are the more stubborn of the two of us, but I can dig my heels in if I feel it's necessary. And it's time I did."

"Why?"

"You have Debbie and, to a lesser extent, her father to look after. You don't need a third patient."

"Sydney," Jarod's tone was full of frustration. "That second bullet was lodged only an inch above your lung. If it’d punctured it, you might not be here now, arguing with me. I think I'm only being understandably cautious."

"All right," Sydney sat back in his chair. "I'll make you a deal."

Jarod's eyes narrowed instantly. "I'm not big on deals. Most of them don't work out to my advantage."

"This one will." Sydney smiled again. "I will continue to wear the sling if you will let me get up and help oversee Debbie." He paused. "It might not seem like it to you, but Broots means a lot to me and I want to help you care for his daughter. Besides, you couldn't possibly manage the whole day between the two of you. It realistically needs a third person."

The Pretender nodded slowly, his eyes wandering over to the bed. "As long as you promise that you won't try to overdo it, like you would have done yesterday if I hadn't made you go downstairs."

Sydney was about to protest but thought better of it. "All right. You can tell me when to stop, and I'll obey." He held out one hand. "Deal?"

Jarod shook the hand of the uninjured arm. "Deal. Now, go back to bed."

Sydney laughed but obeyed.

*~*

"Good morning, Mr Broots."

The man stopped stretching his stiff neck muscles and looked around to find the Pretender sitting in front of a computer.

"We'll try to find a bed for you tonight. Much more of that and you won't be able to turn your head."

"How's Debbie doing?"

"Better than yesterday. She's improving well. It won't be a quick recovery but, at this stage, it looks like being a full one."

Broots smiled and then winced as he stretched his leg. Jarod got up and walked over to him.

"Want me to take a look?"

The technician nodded and stood up, nearly falling as he put too much weight on the damaged foot. Jarod reached out an arm and caught him.

"Easy there. That can't be good for it."

"Wasn't good for me, either," the man muttered to himself as he limped over to the other chair and pulled his trouser leg up to his knee.

"I'll bet." Jarod eased off the shoe and the Snoopy sock, hiding a smile at the sight of it, before looking down at the swollen joint. "The prettiest looking sprained ankle I've seen in a long time. Very well decorated." He gently began to move the foot, rotating it slightly. Broots gasped and bit his bottom lip. "Well, it's not broken."

"How do you know?"

"Because if it was," Jarod grinned, "there wouldn't be a roof left on the house and your daughter certainly wouldn't still be asleep." He eased the foot down onto the chair that Sydney had sat on and then got up. "I'm going to get some ice for that, to help the swelling. If anything happens..."

"I'll be here." Jarod looked around to find Miss Parker in the doorway carrying three mugs on a tray. "You go and get the ice."

As he left the room, Jarod gently allowed his fingers to brush her shoulder and she smiled at him.

*~*
"Grngh." The gasp was restrained, but Jarod looked up as he secured the ice gently around the injured area.

"Sorry, Broots. I know it's painful."

"I'll survive." The words were spoken through clenched teeth and Jarod couldn't help exchanging a glance of amusement with Miss Parker as she left the room. "Must have got that stubbornness from your boss."

Broots nodded, a smile curving his lips, despite the pain. As he did so, Miss Parker reappeared in the doorway carrying a footstool, followed by Major Charles who was carrying a large easy-chair from the living room. The chair was set up next to the head of the bed so that the person sitting in it could reach the girl and Jarod helped Broots hobble over to it and ease himself into it.

"Any chance of a spare blanket?" the Pretender asked with a smile.

"Ooh, gee," Major Charles thoughtfully rubbed his chin. "That could be asking a bit much. What do you think, Miss Parker?"

As she was about to respond, a sound from the bed made them all turn towards it. Jarod waved his father back a little and the man smiled understandingly before he left the room.

"Hi Debbie." Jarod took a place on the other side of the bed. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Better." The voice was a croak and Jarod looked up at Miss Parker.

"Ice." His mouth formed the word silently and she disappeared rapidly through the door.

"Are you still sore, sweetheart?"

"No, Daddy." She yawned slightly. "Just tired."

"That's good, baby." Broots stroked her hair with a tender hand as Miss Parker reappeared with the glass and spoon.

Jarod took the glass from her and spoke firmly. "Debbie, I'm going to give you something to make your mouth less dry. Open up for me."

She obediently parted her lips and Jarod slipped several small slivers of ice onto the small, pink tongue.

"Nice?"

She nodded drowsily.

"Good girl. Just rest now."

The Music of the Heart
Part 8 - Mezzo Piano


"Son? Are you out there?"

Jarod groaned in frustration and glanced up from the computer that sat open on his knees as he sat on the porch of the house, regardless of the fog that swirled around him. "Yes, Dad."

Major Charles wrapped his jacket further around him and, reaching back in through the closing door, grabbed Jarod's coat and put it over the Pretender's shoulders.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Trying to find somewhere quiet to work." He glanced up. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. It's just that whenever I'm inside I feel like I should be sitting with Debbie or making sure Sydney's okay. I thought that maybe, if I came out here, I might be able to concentrate."

Major Charles sat down on the step and looked at him. "Any luck?"

"I can't even come up with any way for us to beat the Centre. I've spent almost every day since I escaped dreaming about the chance to do it but now, when it's close, I can't think of something that won't get us all killed as a result."

"Have you talked to Miss Parker or Sydney about it?"

"I would, but they're so overwhelmed at having Broots and Debbie back that I don't think they can think about anything else yet."

Major Charles rested one hand on his son's shoulder as he got up. "You'll think of something. I know you will. And if you ever want to talk through an idea..."

Jarod smiled up at him gratefully. "Thanks, Dad. I will."

*~*

Ethan flipped through the last few pages of the book that Steven had left in the room that they were sharing and sighed. He was becoming frustrated by the fact that there was nothing for him to do in this place. Getting up off the bed, he replaced the book on the table that sat between their beds and pulled on a sweater. Going downstairs, he found that the rooms were empty and for a few moments wondered where everybody was. Shrugging, he pulled his jacket off the hook, noticing that his brother's was also missing and he wondered where he was. Exiting the building, he found out when he nearly tripped over the Pretender sitting on the steps with his head in his hands.

"Jarod?"

"Hi, Ethan."

"What are you doing out here?"

"Do you know, you're the second person to ask me that in twenty minutes?"

"If my sister saw you, she'd forcibly drag you inside and then ask you in a way that would be less than pleasant. It's freezing." He shivered slightly and Jarod looked up at him, a hint of amusement in his eye.

"And you were planning to go for a walk."

"How did you know?"

Jarod reached over and tapped the heavy boots that Ethan wore. "Just a lucky guess." He winked and then looked back at the screen that glowed faintly.

"You're frustrated."

"Did your inner sense tell you that?"

Ethan laughed. "Just a lucky guess." He paused for a moment. "Why don't we both go back inside and stoke the fire? Then we can toast marshmallows or something."

"Well, if you're going to twist my arm..." Jarod shut the computer and began to get stiffly up off the step. Ethan grabbed his arm and pulled him upright.

"Be careful of yourself. If anything happened to you, my sister would never let me forget it."

Jarod grinned as he accompanied his brother into the house.

*~*

"Your hair's sticky."

Jarod rolled over, remembering the marshmallow fight from earlier that day, and grinned at Miss Parker as she propped her head up on her elbow and stared at him from her position on the bed next to him.

"That's possible, yes," he agreed.

"Why? What have you been doing?"

"Do you know," he spoke in the conversational tone that he knew was infuriating to her, "that you'd make a wonderful lawyer?"

"I can be judge and jury, too." She tried to glare at him but he grinned up at her from his position on the pillows. "My God, you're irritating sometimes."

"But I'm very lovable, too."

She snorted and he moved in closer.

"Parker, are you saying you don't love me?" His voice was deep and soft and he pushed himself in close beside her, catching her free hand and slipping it around behind his back. "Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

"What would you do if I said 'yes'?"

"Never do this again." He caught her face in his hands and brought his mouth slowly towards hers. The first few kisses were soft and tentative but he could feel the arm that had been holding her up slip away until she was lying flat beside him. With firm but gentle hands he began to undo the buttons of the shirt that she was wearing. As he did so, Jarod waited for the whisper that had been enough to stop him last time. When it didn't come, he pushed the blouse off her shoulders and lowered her mouth to her neck. Brushing the strands of hair away, he brought his lips in contact with her soft skin.

He could feel her hands undoing the shirt that he had been wearing all day.

"Do you love me, Parker?"

She heard the husky whisper in her ear, followed by a low chuckle, as her only response was a low moan.

"I could stop, Parker, if you don't want me to go on."

"No," her whisper was hoarse. "I do, Jarod. I really do love you. Don't stop."

She moaned again as he, with unerring aim, seemed to know exactly what she wanted. With firm movements, she undid the button and fly of his jeans, pulling down the unyielding material. She could feel his hands fumbling with the catch on her bra and she reached up and guided his fingers, slowly undoing the hooks until it loosened and she could pull it off. She stripped away the last of his clothes leaving him naked in front of her and, for just a second, she let her eyes roam over his entire length. He laughed again, a deep, rolling chuckle.

"Like what you see?"

"It's not how it looks," she shrugged, an amused smile on her face. "It's what you can do with it." She guided his hands lower, over her stomach and further down, and then she was as naked he. "How about me?"

"Perfect." He came closer and spoke the next words once more in her ear. "Just perfect." His mouth was lowered to hers once again and she rolled over so that he was lying on top of her, his body fitting perfectly into her every curve. She could feel his strength but also his gentleness. Any thought that he might, albeit inadvertently, hurt her fled her mind and she leaned into him once more.

*~*

Afterwards he held her in his arms and she listened to his heart beating inside his chest, her head rising and falling as he breathed. Tilting her head upwards, she saw him watching her.

"What is it?"

"Wow."

She smiled, satisfied. "You were pretty good, yourself."

He gently lifted his hand, allowed his fingertips to brush her bare upper arm and she could feel the goose bumps rising on her skin. Suddenly he stopped.

"What?"

"What time is it?"

Miss Parker glanced over at the clock that sat beside his bed. "Four thirty. Still a long time before you have to go on duty."

"I only hope I can stay awake for it." He laughed again. "If I can't, I guess I'll just have to tell whoever asks what happened."

She gave him a mock-glare. "You wouldn't dare."

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't."

"I can give you several." Her voice deepened suggestively and he smiled at her, gently running the back of one finger down her cheek.

"I'm sure you could. You were always good at blackmail, Parker."

She laughed. "I get better with practice."

He shook his head. "Let's keep everything open, Parker. We shouldn't need blackmail or any other type of emotional force between us any more."

She nodded and then nestled closer to him. "Agreed."

*~*

When she appeared in the doorway of Debbie's room the next morning, the first thing Miss Parker saw was Jarod sitting in the chair beside the bed, holding a glass of water so that the girl could drink.

"Where's...?"

Jarod held up one finger to his lips and nodded in the direction that the door prevented her from seeing. Peering around it, she saw Broots stretched out on a camp bed, one arm flung over his eyes, presumably to block out the limited light thrown by the lamp that sat on a table and illuminated the room during the night.

"Hi, Miss Parker." The voice of the little girl was soft and weak but it was certainly something, the woman reflected to herself silently, that she had the power to put a sentence together.

"Debbie," Jarod spoke sternly as he took the glass away, "if you feel sick, I want you to tell me right away, even if it will wake up your dad. Promise?"

She nodded. "I promise. I don't want to be sick again."

The Pretender gently pulled the sheets up and helped the girl to lift her arms over the soft material so that she was lying comfortably. "We don't want it either, and we'll do what we can to make sure it doesn't happen." He looked up at Parker. "I have a little surprise for you two." Standing up, he walked over to the table and uncovered a book. "A fairy whispered that this might come in handy some day, and I think it might be nice if I got the chance to hear it."

He held it out to Miss Parker who took it and walked over to sit in the chair he had just vacated. "Do you want me to read it?"

The pale face brightened. "Yes, please."

Miss Parker placed the book down on the blanket and slipped her cool hand into the warmer one of the girl who lay in front of her. With a warm smile, she began. "Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents..."

*~*

"This fairy that's been whispering in your ear - what's it called again?"

Jarod looked sheepish as she stood in front of him, preventing him from leaving the bedroom where he had gone to change into a warmer shirt.

"Angelo."

The Pretender watched as Miss Parker's jaw dropped.

"Angelo? How could he...?"

Jarod pulled her down onto the bed beside him and took both of her hands in his. "Look, Parker, you along with every single other person at the Centre have always underestimated Angelo. I was talking to Ethan yesterday about him and he said that Catherine's voice told him a few things about Angelo; things, I might add, that I already knew, including that punishments from Raines had forced him to suppress any of his own emotions and only empath those of other people. But those feelings are there." He spoke firmly to her and his gaze seemed locked into hers. "He feels as much as you or I do, and when you combine that with what he knows about you or me, that makes him a pretty powerful individual."

"I did try to warn you about that, Parker." The voice from the doorway made them both jump and she turned to see Sydney standing there. "Ever since Angelo was brought into the pursuit, I tried to tell you. But you wouldn't listen."

Miss Parker looked down at her hands as Sydney came into the room and shut the door behind him. "I remember hearing my father talk about the projects in the Centre. He dismissed them with so much scorn..." She stopped and Jarod could see the tears in her eyes that she blinked away. The face that she turned up to him wore an expression that pleaded for understanding. "He even talked about you that way, day after day. I hadn't seen you - any of you - for so long and, finally, I began to believe him."

"So that was why things changed." Jarod sat back with the satisfied expression of one who has finally managed to untie a stubborn knot in piece of string. "And then, when you came back from Japan, you went into Corporate..."

"...And were even more under Mr Parker's influence." Jarod nodded soberly at Sydney's statement and Miss Parker's eyes filled again.

"I didn't mean it, Jarod. Really, I didn't." She buried her face in his chest and he wrapped his arms around her.


"I know, Parker. I know you didn't. It wasn't your fault." He drew her away slightly and cupped her face in his hands. "I don't blame you, Maleah. Believe me."

*~*

"Dad?"

Major Charles looked up to find his daughter standing in the doorway of the living room. "What is it, Em?"

She walked in and sat down on a stool at his feet, leaning against his legs. "I can't help it, Dad. I'm more nervous with every day that we're in this house. Sure, the fog is keeping the Centre away for now, but it's going to lift one day, and when it does..."

He put out a hand and gingerly stroked her hair. "I know that it's hard, but we need to have a plan before we do anything. Our only other option is to spend the rest of our lives running away from them and you wouldn't want that, would you?"

"I'm scared, Dad."

"I am, too, Emily."

She looked up at him in amazement. "You really are?"

"I really am. Every time we've come up against the Centre, we've lost somehow. I hate the thought of doing it again, but we don't have a choice."

"And do the others feel like that too?"

"I know I do." Sydney walked into the room and sat down in a chair opposite the two occupants with a deep sigh. "I find it terrifying, knowing everything that the Centre's done - and could do." He looked across at Emily and smiled. "I think it's good that you're afraid. Sometimes I worry that Jarod and Miss Parker will forget their fear and get themselves killed in the process."

"Do you really think that's likely, Sydney?"

The psychiatrist looked up to see the expression of anxiety on Major Charles' face and nodded. "I think it's always possible, Major. Jarod, in the midst of anything, is sometimes liable to forget that it could pose a substantial risk to himself. And Miss Parker is very similar."

*~*

Jarod sat for several moments and stared blankly at the file that he had found, deep in one of the computers of the Centre.

"What is it, Jarod? What did you find?"

The Pretender looked across to find Broots sitting up on the camp bed on which he had been previously asleep.

"How long have you been watching me?"

"Not that long, actually." Broots half-smiled as he pulled himself up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "But I've seen that worried look on your face before, like when we were finding out things about Damon."

Jarod ran his fingers through his hair and sat back in his seat. "You're right. I was searching through a computer and found something that could be very useful."

Broots limped his way over to the table and Jarod pulled up another chair for the technician.

"Take a look at this." As Jarod turned the computer to face the other man, the figure on the bed moved slightly. "I'll check on her. You read through that."

He walked over and found that the most recent dose of sedative was wearing off but that otherwise she was doing well. Walking back to the table, he repeated this to the girl's father in a low voice and was rewarded with a warm smile.

"What do you think?" Jarod reseated himself and nodded at the machine that was humming softly in front of them.

"If we just sat back and waited," Broots' voice contained hints of amusement, "the Centre would destroy itself before our eyes."

Jarod nodded. "There's only one thing that worries me. If this coup fails, Mr Parker will have more power than he even has now. If it succeeds, Lyle will have all the power. I don't know which option I like less."

He watched Broots weighing up the options, as he had done, and knew that they were both feeling slightly sick at the thought.

"So what are we going to do?"

"If we could find out how far ahead they are in their planning, then we might be able to do something - but I have no idea what."

*~*

Broots had taken over the computer when Jarod had left the room to bring up the lunches and he looked up to find Ethan standing, somewhat awkwardly, in the doorway. The technician, too, couldn't help feeling a little nervous. Ethan, after all, was the person he knew least well of all those gathered at the house.

"Where's Jarod?"

"In the kitchen. He'll be back soon. Come on in."

Ethan nodded and stepped in through the doorway, looking over at the bed. "How's she doing?"

Broots beamed. "Much better. Jarod and Steven are considering getting her up tomorrow for a short time and they took out the last of the tubes today."

"I'm really glad to hear it." Ethan stepped over to the table and sat down in the chair opposite. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to find some proof of the things that we found this morning."

"What things?"

"I was going to mention it at a meeting I just called for everybody in an hour." The two men looked up to see Jarod in the doorway. "Did you find anything else, Broots?"

"Not yet. I've been having some difficulty getting through the passwords."

Ethan sat back in his chair as Jarod came forward and put the jug of soup and mugs on the table before he glanced at him.

"What is it, Ethan?"

Before the man could speak, a female voice from the doorway interrupted their conversation. "Jarod, what is 'masters'?"

He stared at her. "Parker, what are you talking about?"

"I keep hearing a voice say 'masters'."

"Catherine?"

Ethan nodded. "I hear it, too."

"Broots!" Jarod spun around and stared at the technician. "Try it."

There was silence for a few seconds, then a quiet hum and Jarod looked over Broots' shoulder to see file after file open on the screen.

"That was it! The key! I kept finding references to it, but couldn't work out what it was." He looked up at Jarod and Miss Parker in excitement. "This means we can look at anything in the Centre mainframe - any memo, any DSA, any file."

"Daddy?"

The voice from the bed made Jarod step over to find Debbie looking up at him with sleepy eyes. Glancing over his shoulder, he nodded at Miss Parker who grabbed Ethan's arm and the two of them left the room. Broots stood up and moved over to the bed also, his ankle improving to the extent that his limp was almost unnoticeable.

"How are you feeling, Debbie? Better?"

She nodded. "Hungry."

"Well," Jarod smiled across at Broots, "we will most certainly have to see if we can do something about that, won't we? Tell you what; I'll make you a deal. If you go back to sleep now, I'll see what I can rustle up for you."

"Okay." She closed her eyes and Jarod placed one hand on her wrist, feeling for the pulse.

"Better and better." Jarod smiled as he and Broots moved away. "She's certainly recovering a lot faster than I thought she would."

He turned away to go back down to the kitchen but noticed a nervous expression cross the technician's face. "Broots, are you willing to help us?"

"You helped me."

Jarod smiled in satisfaction and left the room.

*~*

Angelo crept into the room and looked across to where Broots sat beside the bed of his daughter, his hand in hers and both of them asleep. On the table sat an empty bowl that was evidence of the small amount of food that Debbie had been able to consume.

"Jarod?"

"Angelo, hi!" Jarod kept his voice low as he jumped up from his chair.

"Better."

"Yes, Angelo. She's much better now."

"You?"

Jarod smiled. "Yes, Angelo. I'm better, too, and so is Parker."

"'Daddy' mad."

The Pretender raised an eyebrow. "My Dad?"

With a definitive shake of the head, Angelo pulled over the computer and typed in several words. Jarod watched the image appeared on the screen.

"Damn it, Lyle! I want them found and I want them found today. Even without that technician, they could still do plenty of damage, especially if they were together. Even if just my daughter and that creep of a pretender were together, that would be enough! You will find them and you will do it soon!"

Jarod watched as Lyle turned and silently left the room. The position of the camera afforded the pretender a view that Mr Parker did not have and he saw the sneer that appeared on the thumbless man's face. The Pretender looked at Angelo, an eyebrow raised, as the empath froze the screen.

"I think Mr Parker just signed his own death warrant."

The savant's face became serious and he nodded. "Today."

"Today?"

"Lyle... Cox... today."

"Jarod, does he mean that Cox is going to be the one that does it?"

The Pretender met the technician's eye. "And he's going to do it today."

"Not... going to."

Angelo typed a couple of things into the computer and the time detail appeared on the screen.

"That was yesterday," Jarod breathed. "And today?"

"Dead."

"Oh, God."

Jarod pushed back the chair on which he sat and walked over to the window, staring out of it blindly.

"Parker - how do I tell Parker that her father is dead?"

"Not dead."

Jarod turned and stared at the small man. "But you just said..."

"Daddy...not dead."

"But if Mr Parker is dead, that means that..." Broots looked up in shock.

Jarod nodded, finished the sentence for him. "...Mr Parker is definitely not her father."

The Music of the Heart
Part 9 - Mezzo Forte


"Daddy here," Angelo murmured.

Jarod stared at Broots. "If that's true then her father is one of two people."

"And not Ben Miller."

"How do you know about Ben?"

"I... Sydney and I found out something a few years ago."

"So that makes it Sydney himself... or my dad..." Jarod found himself feeling slightly sick at the thought of what he and - he refused to let himself be drawn further down that mental path.

"Lyle... Mr Parker. Miss Parker... me."

Broots' jaw dropped. "But I... I ordered those tests. I..."

"And Lyle obviously managed to manipulate them to his own ends, Broots. He knew that it would be beneficial for him to be back in the Centre - especially as it would help to protect him from the Yakuza." Jarod turned back to the computer as he spoke. "Every person who has been involved with the Centre has their DNA recorded on file. I found out about it when I first got out, but it took a while before I could work out the significance of it all. However it certainly makes it easier for us now."

He typed for a moment and brought up what he needed. "Bingo." He turned the screen around to show the broken-down results of the DNA tests and began, at the same time, to print them out.

"He's going to flip."

Jarod grinned. "So is she."

*~*

Jarod glanced across the room at Broots, the two of them barely able to contain their amusement. It hadn't been difficult for the pretender to Persuade him to come down and Steven had been left in the room for the time being.

"Son, have you come up with anything?"

Miss Parker looked up from her seat on the other side of the room as Major Charles asked the question.

"We think we might have - something."

"We?"

"Broots and I were doing some work this morning and found a couple of things of significance." Jarod reached into his back pocket and pulled out a bundle of papers that he handed around. "More DNA test results." He paused. "But not, thankfully, for me this time."

"For whom, Jarod?" the psychiatrist asked.

Jarod met his mentor's eye. "For you, Sydney."

There was a collected gasp but Jarod pressed on, regardless. "For you, your daughter and her mother."

"What?!" Sydney leaped up from his chair as though he had been stung. "A daughter? What daughter?"

"You don't know?"

"Jarod," Sydney calmed down slightly and reseated himself. "I have no daughter."

"Just like you didn't think you had a son, either." Jarod grinned. "But I am in the position to assure you that most definitely do have a daughter." He dropped the bombshell. "And she's in this room, right now."

He met his sister's eye and shook his head slightly. Then he looked over at Miss Parker. Standing up, he held out a hand to her. "Come with me, Maleah."

"Where?"

"Just to the other side of the room - to sit next to your real father."

*~*

Jarod finished his explanations of the situation, constantly glancing across at the woman he loved and the man who had been like a father to him.

"Parker, I have something else you need to know."

"There's more?"

"Sydney, you have a second son as well. Have you forgotten - Parker is a twin."

"Not Lyle?" The whisper came from both of them.

Jarod shook his head and smiled. "No, not Lyle. Angelo."

The empath had been quietly creeping close to his family and now they found him sitting on the ground at their feet. Miss Parker reached down and put both her arms around him.

"I hate to interrupt the Happy Families," Jarod interposed, "but there are a few more things that I need to tell everybody and they aren't as pleasant as what I just revealed."

"What is it?" Sydney detected the note of seriousness in Jarod's voice. With the hand of his uninjured arm wrapped in both of his daughter's, he looked over at the Pretender.

"Parker, this could be difficult for you."

"Try me." Her voice was firm and Broots raised an eyebrow, noting the similarity to the way she often spoke to him.

Turning, Jarod picked up the computer and opened it. He gestured for his sister, brother and father to move over so that they could see and then activated the DSA that Angelo had found. There was a silence in the room as the occupants watched the Chairman of the Centre gunned down in his office.

"He wasn't found for eight hours, until the cleaning staff came in to the office next morning." Jarod rapidly snapped shut the machine as he spoke. "There was nothing that anybody could have done - even if Lyle had let them. But he insisted that the body be cremated immediately. His assassin didn't escape either. Cox received a message saying that he was needed in the Washington office. The jet blew up on take-off."

"So Lyle is now the head honcho." Miss Parker's voice was bitter and Jarod nodded slowly.

"With a partner," the Pretender reminded them.

"Raines." The word was quietly spoken but only Jarod saw the word form on his father's mouth and the facial expression that accompanied it.

"Correct. And they're making a dangerous pair."

"With a lot of power?"

"More than we can imagine. Although," Jarod's lips twitched, "I think that will be a fairly tense partnership. And possibly quite short term."

"And then one of them will have all the power to themselves - and we're dead."

Jarod nodded tersely at his father's comment. "We need to come up with some way of stopping that, and of somehow neutralizing the Centre. There has to be something we can do. We just have to find it."

*~*

Jarod walked into the room where his brother was lying in bed finishing off one of his other books. "And I thought I liked reading."

Steven glanced up with a grin. "I would expect you to."

"Do you speed-read or do it the old-fashioned way?"

"Depends on the book - and the amount of time I have. If there's a black sedan around, then I speed-read."

The Pretender threw back his head and laughed as he curled himself up on Ethan's bed.

"Did you tell Sydney about Miss Parker?" the boy pursued.

Jarod nodded. "I would have loved you to be there, but somebody had to stay with Debbie. She's doing well, but not that well."

"It's okay. I didn't mind."

For several moments, Jarod watched his brother, until finally the boy broke the silence. "What is it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, when I look at somebody like that, it's usually because I want to know something that they know and I don't think they're going to tell me unless I break down their defenses first."

"So are you broken?"

"Why don't I just say yes so that you'll get on with it?"

Jarod laughed again, but remembered the reason for coming and stopped. He rolled over so that he was lying on his stomach and propped his chin up on his hands. "I was looking after Debbie this morning after you went to bed. You had another nightmare, didn't you?"

The boy examined the bed cover for several moments but finally looked up and nodded. "Ever since we started talking about taking on the Centre, I have them more and more."

"If Debbie hadn't needed me, I would have come in. Luckily the others were downstairs and I don't think anyone else noticed."

"On the contrary, someone else did notice."

The occupants looked up to find Sydney in the doorway. He walked in and shut the door. "I came up to get a clean handkerchief and heard the noise. I was about to come in when you woke up." He looked at Steven as he sat down on the edge of the bed upon which Jarod was curled up. "The only other person I know who has nightmares that bad is your brother." Sydney glanced over at the pretender and then back. "I could help him, sometimes, and I know that yours are to do with the Centre as well. Do you want my help?"

The boy remained silent, looking down for several moments while both Sydney and Jarod watched him. His eyes, when he looked up, were wet.

"I can't deal with them any more. They always get worse and I can't tell anybody about them. When I wake up, I can never really remember what they were about, and that's what really scares me the most. I can only ever remember parts of them: faces and sounds. Never what really happened."

Jarod stood up and walked over, gathering the figure of his brother in his arms and holding him for a moment. The boy clung to the older man, allowing several tears to slip unseen down his cheeks. Then he looked up at Sydney.

"Yes - I do want your help. Please."

*~*

The boy lay motionless on one bed, Sydney sitting on the other and Jarod standing in the doorway to prevent any intruders. He wasn't fully hypnotized, but relaxed enough to stop his conscious mind from blocking the memory of the dreams that were haunting him.

"Tell me where you are."

"Donoterase. No, not there. I'm at The Centre now. I was just moved there. The door of my room opens and she walks in."

"Who?" Sydney's voice was calm.

"Miss Parker."

Jarod smiled gently but refrained from comment.

"She talks to me for a few minutes and says that she will get me out. I'm about to leave when the door opens again. Two other people come in - you and the other man, the one that was on the DSA Jarod showed me." The boy paused and swallowed painfully. "The younger man pulls out a gun, grabs you and says that, unless Miss Parker moves away, he'll kill you." Steven opened frantic eyes and stared at Sydney. "I know it never really happened like that but it's what I see. He pulls the trigger and then turns and shoots Miss Parker as well. Then he pushes me in front of him, out of the room. I know he's going to kill me too, but I always wake up before that happens."

Steven's chest heaved with dry sobs and Jarod once more moved over to the bed, sitting next to the boy and gently stroking his hair. Sydney also got up and came to sit next to him.

"Steven, take a few deep breaths and try to calm down. Anything I tell you now won't be effective until you do that."

Jarod gently shook the boy. "Come on, Steve. I told you we were going to get rid of these. And we will." He looked up at Sydney, who nodded an answer to the pretender's unspoken question. After several moments, the boy rolled over so that his head was resting against Jarod's leg and looked up.

"This is slightly complicated," Sydney began, "but I'll try to clarify it a little. Just after Jarod escaped, I found a project that I had known nothing about called Substitution. On a hunch, I investigated it. It was a scheme Raines masterminded some years before and put into action. It involved the building up of a circumstance that would ensure a certain permanent, emotional attachment to the Centre. If the subject broke away from the strict regime and discipline, as well as specific mental stimuli that they were exposed to daily, they would begin to experience nightmares and very extreme emotions. These nightmares would reflect, but also magnify, events that had occurred within the Centre itself. When we found out about you, I went back to Substitution and found that you had been subjected to the same thing. The results of it are what's happened to both of you since you left." He paused. "Do you understand, Steven?"

The boy looked up at him and nodded silently. "Can you get rid of it?"

There was a plea in his voice that Sydney picked up on immediately. The psychiatrist looked away for a moment before returning his gaze to the two men. "I don't know about completely, but we can diminish the impact it will have on you. I can usually pinpoint the events that are triggering the nightmares in Jarod's case, but I don't know so much about your projects. It's only by learning more about them that the effect of the treatment Raines inflicted can be diminished."

"If we were to find something..." Jarod looked thoughtful and then eased his brother's head off his knee. "I'm going to go and see what Broots and I can rustle up between us. There has to be a record of it somewhere - Raines wouldn't let something like that go."

He got up off the bed and went over to the door. Glancing back, he saw Sydney bending down over the boy and smiled faintly before shutting the door.

Walking into Debbie's room, he found her father sitting beside the bed reading the paper and he looked almost guiltily across at the other empty chair.

"I'm sorry, Broots. I didn't even think about the fact that there wouldn't be one of us here."

The technician looked up with a smile. "Don't worry, Jarod. Sydney told me where he was and you would have heard me yell if there was anything wrong."

"How's Debbie?"

"Much better. How's Steven?"

"How did you know?"

"He fell asleep in that chair briefly last night and I watched him dreaming - and crying..." Broots paused for a few seconds. "I imagine it's the same kind of thing you go through."

Jarod nodded. "You're right. It is. But we're going to try and get rid of it for him."

"Can I help?"

"You want to...?"

"Jarod, he helped you save her life. Sydney told me how much damage had been done and that, if you hadn't worked together, she might have died. And he's here every night, watching over her." He paused and swallowed painfully. "I just want to the chance to pay back some of what I owe him."

The Pretender made a mental note to haul Sydney over the coals for telling Broots how much danger his daughter had been in and then and smiled. "Sure, if you want to." He sat down in a chair opposite the computer and rested his head on one hand. "And I promise not to make you go through Raines' office again. I'll leave you to perform that favor for Miss Parker next time she asks."

Broots gave a mock shudder. "I don't even want to think about it!" He grinned as he took the seat on the other side of the table. "So what are we looking for?"

"I need to get hold of the simulations that Steve performed when he was at Donoterase and the Centre. Or, if not the actual SIMs themselves then at least the results of them."

"You're going to show the boy the results of what he did? So that he'll feel the same way you do now?"

Jarod looked up, his mouth set in a firm line, and paused for a moment before he spoke. "Broots, I'm going to tell you something I've never even told Sydney. I'm only telling you so you'll understand what I mean, and I'd rather you kept it to yourself."

Broots nodded and glanced once over at his daughter to make sure she was still sleeping before he looked back.

"The first few days after I escaped, I didn't get involved in society at all. I sort of skirted around the edges of it, watching it. I couldn't bring myself to get drawn in because of a dream I kept having." Jarod's head sunk towards the desk but he forced it up. "Right away, I started to have nightmares about simulations that I had performed in the Centre. The dreams were terrible," Jarod's eyes darkened at the memory, "but the worst part was that I could never remember the details, only the faces and sounds that had been involved. They were to do with some plane that was constantly crashing and, in my dream, killing millions of people. One day, I picked up a newspaper and read about adjustments that had been made to an airplane in accordance with suggestions made by a corporation in Delaware and which had been responsible for the crash. Do you remember the newspaper clippings I showed you when we were involved with Damon?"

The technician nodded and Jarod continued.

"Of course, the adjustments weren't what I suggested - in fact they were the exact opposite. Still, this article said that, due to the skill of the pilot, the plane had made a case-book crash-landing into the ocean and everybody on board survived." Jarod swallowed hard and looked down at the tabletop. "That night I waited for that dream to come back, but it never did. Of course, others replaced it immediately, but it's the not knowing that makes them so bad. As soon as I found out about the details of the use of any of the simulations in the real world, I was able to stop dreaming about them."

Jarod sat back in his chair and looked over at the technician, who hadn't moved. "That's what I want the chance to do for Steve - help him confront the demons that he fights every night because of the fact that he doesn't know what really happened. Sure, it's terrible to have to deal with the fact that something you did caused a number of people to die, but it's worse when you have no idea of the real numbers involved, and if they did die." He heaved a deep sigh. "Does that make sense?"

The technician nodded. "Perfect sense." He sat back and thought for a moment before looking up. "Raines has a whole set of files and information, and I’d be willing to bet that the data will all be there."

"Can you find it?"

Broots pulled the computer over towards him and immediately began to type as Jarod thought back over the difficult time he had experienced during his first weeks of freedom.

"Okay, got it!"

"Already?"

"That password is a marvel. Even Mr Raines' and Mr Parker's most secret files all open up when it's used."

"And is there any trace of us being in the mainframe?"

"None whatsoever. That's the absolute beauty of it." He looked down at the computer and then up again. "Wait, it gets better. Even files that the Centre has deleted are still accessible with this magic word."

"Hmm."

Jarod sat back in his chair thoughtfully and studied the pattern of the floorboards without really seeing them. Broots, after a glance or two at him, concentrated on accessing the files of Steven's simulations and saving them onto Jarod's hard drive. After twenty minutes or so, the pretender came out of his trance-like state and looked up.

"What do you have?"

"Pure gold. Everything that the poor kid ever went through is here, as well as the practical uses of the simulations and their result. I only hope your drive has space enough."

"It does." Jarod nodded definitively and picked up the computer from under the hands of the technician. At the door he turned and looked back. "Thank-you, Broots. Thank-you very much indeed."

*~*

Miss Parker sat on the sofa and looked down to where her twin brother was staring into the fire. Her mind was still slowly absorbing everything with which it had been hit during the last few hours. As she sat there, Ethan entered the room.

"Indulging in some family bonding, Maleah?"

She smiled up at him. "Actually, just still trying to cope with everything."

"I can understand that." He sat down in a chair and watched her. "Are you happy with it?"

"I... I think so."

"Think?"

Heaving a deep sigh, she twisted in the chair, facing him. "Ethan, I've spent more than thirty years believing that the man who said he was my father actually was. And I've spent the last two years believing that I knew who my twin brother actually was. Then suddenly my world flips upside down and the man I thought was my father is shot dead on the orders of the man I thought was my brother." She shrugged slightly. "Do you see my problem?"

He nodded. "But you see no reason to disbelieve it?"

There was a hint of amusement in her voice as she responded. "Considering how much of an improvement it is, I'd be stupid not to believe it, wouldn't you say?"

*~*

Jarod silently entered the room and placed the computer onto the bed, standing back to watch the continuation of the session between his clone and Sydney.

"What's happening now?"

"I'm watching a train slam into an embankment. The suggestions I made about the brake system haven't been made, or were changed, and they couldn't brake at the curve."

Jarod turned to the computer and silently opened one of the files, his eyes rapidly scanning the pages of information that was provided with the DSA.

"The bodies... there must have been hundreds of people killed. I can't cope with it, Sydney." There was a painful break in the boy's voice and his eyes were open, staring at the ceiling. "I can't deal with the fact that I killed hundreds of people."

"Nobody died in that train explosion." Jarod's voice was firm and allowed for no argument. "The emergency brake activated and derailed two carriages. Three people were treated for broken bones and eight for whiplash. But nobody was killed at all."

Sydney turned and stared at his former student, his mouth hanging slightly open in shock. On the bed, Steven remained perfectly still, his eyes focused on his brother. Jarod picked up the computer and carried it over to the bed, positioning it so that Sydney could see it and moving his clone's head so that it rested once more against his leg. A touch and the report about the train crash played in living color and sound. The boy watched the seven-minute report. Neither he nor Sydney made a sound until it was over. Then Jarod placed a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Steve, can you still see it in your mind? The carnage?"

His clone closed his eyes and remained silent for several minutes. Finally he shook his head. "It's gone. Somehow, all that's there is - that." He waved his hand in the direction of the screen and then opened his eyes and smiled up at Jarod with such warmth and affection that Sydney was forced to swallow a lump in his throat. "And this will work - every time?"

The Pretender stroked the boy's hair gently and smiled in return. "It's not that good every time, Steve. People have died due to the things we discovered and there's no way around that. But knowing is much better than not knowing, I promise you."

The Music of the Heart
Part 10 - Forte


"Jarod."

Sydney grabbed his former protégée's arm as they left Steven's room, the boy having cried himself to sleep after experiencing several other such relivings of his simulations.

"What is it, Sydney?"

Turning, Jarod saw that the psychiatrist was pale and drawn and, with a muffled exclamation, he took the uninjured arm and steered the older man into his bedroom, which, fortunately, was near by.

"Sit down."

Jarod placed his computer on the table that the room boasted and then loosened Sydney's tie and undid the collar of his shirt, using the opportunity to check that the bandage he wore was still clean.

The older man inhaled deeply before looking up, his expression curious. "What was that for?"

"If you pass out, it's hard for you to hear my answers to your questions."

"And even harder for me to ask them."

Jarod nodded and leaned against the table with his arms folded. "What is it?"

"How did you find out about Miss Parker being my...?"

"I looked through the DNA files that the Centre has. They have a complete record..."

"...of every subject, every employee, everybody. I know."

Jarod narrowed his eyes. "What else do you know?"

"That's the problem." Sydney looked up with an expression on his face that Jarod had never seen before. "I don't know what else I remember. I've always had this feeling...that there were things I should know. But I don't - I really don't."

"I know you don't, Sydney." Jarod finally managed to recognize the expression - it was frustration. In almost forty years, he had never seen it there before. His voice, therefore, was soft and caring in response. "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to find out why! There has to be a reason that I don't remember these things. Everybody else thinks I should remember - Raines, Catherine, Lyle: they all thought I should know these things."

"Lyle?" Jarod pounced on the name. "What do you mean, Lyle thinks you should remember? How do you know that?"

"He said something once that made me think that." Sydney gently pulled himself further back onto the bed. "He said that, despite everything that I knew, he wouldn't treat me differently from the way he treated anybody else. I remember that I wondered what he meant by that."

"And do you know now?"

Sydney shook his head. "There have been times when I thought I did understand but they've never resulted in anything." He passed a weary hand over his face and sighed. "Jarod, I have to know what so many people think I should."

Jarod looked over at him, noting the exhaustion and realizing that it was as much mental as physical but needing one question answered before he left.

"Syd, do you think Catherine knew you were the father of two of her children?"

The psychiatrist shook his head. "If she did, she never let on. I was always her friend, her psychiatrist - but that was all."

*~*

Emily rocked the baby in her arms and looked up as her brother walked into through the door. "We still haven't given this child a name."

Jarod smiled as he sat down on the floor facing her. "We've been a little busy, Em. Bring it up next time we're all gathered together and we'll see what kind of bizarre ideas people come up with."

She laughed and watched as the baby crawled out of her arms and over to her brother. Suddenly, however, her face became serious and Jarod leaned forward in concern. "What is it?"

"Jarod - are we ever going to find Mom again?"

The Pretender smiled sadly. "I don't know. I only wish I could give you a better answer, but I don't know. I hope we do, though." And alive, he added to himself as he got up.

"I'm going to make some dinner for us all. Want to help?"

"Sure." He held out her hand and, with a hard tug, she nearly pulled him over as she got up, laughing as he gave her a mock-scowl.

"That wasn't funny."

"Oh, it was." She giggled as they walked through the door together. "It was hysterical. You just haven't learnt the right sense of humor yet."

*~*
"Is Steve in with Debbie?"

Jarod yawned and nodded as he pulled his t-shirt off and draped it over the chair and then bent down to untie his shoelaces. When he hadn't moved after ten minutes, Miss Parker got out of bed and silently moved over to his side of the bed. What she saw made her giggle silently and she placed one hand on each of his shoulders and eased him gently back onto his pillow, still fast asleep. He mumbled something and then, as she lifted his legs onto the bed, rolled onto his side. She eased off his shoes and put them down on the floor, pulling the blanket over him before going back over to her side of the bed and climbing in. Looking down at his face, she couldn't help smiling at the sight. With a gentle touch, she ran a finger along his jaw-line. When she heard his voice muttering softly, she leaned in to hear his words.

"I love you, Parker."

She placed a gentle kiss on his cheek and saw the faint smile that appeared on his face, even in sleep.

"I love you, too, Jarod."

*~*
"You couldn't have been tired last night by any chance, I suppose?"


Jarod looked over his shoulder, when he was woken at six the next morning, to meet Miss Parker's amused gaze. Straightening up and knowing that Steve could hear every word, he considered his response carefully.

"I guess - it could be possible."

She raised one neatly manicured eyebrow. "Possible?"

Grabbing his pillow, he threw it at her. "If you already know the answer," the grin on his face was a direct contrast to the dignity in his voice, "why ask?"

Taking his chance, he left both the room and the woman who was now lying back on her pillows and struggling to control her mirth.

*~*

"It hurts!"

"I know, Debbie. Just a little more."

Miss Parker heard the voices and peered in through the doorway to find the girl leaning heavily on Jarod's arm as she struggled to stand upright, her face red and tears obvious in her eyes.

"But it hurts really bad!"

"Only two steps to the chair, Debbie. You can do it."

"Come on, baby." Broots stood behind the chair, his hands on the blanket to stop it from moving. "Just a little further."

"I... I can't!"

"What would Miss Parker say if she thought you couldn't manage it?"

Jarod looked up in astonishment as he heard the remark from Broots' mouth and was even more shocked when it seemed to be the impetus required. The girl set her jaw in a way that he most definitely recognized and made no sound as she shuffled over to the chair.

"Well done, Debbie!" The voice from the door made the girl turn to look and then hurriedly wipe away the tears that the pain had forced out of her eyes.

"Debbie, that was wonderful!" Jarod knelt down in front of her. "You stay there for a little bit while we change the bed and then you can lie down again, okay?"

"Do I have to walk back?"

"We'll see." Jarod refused to commit himself and hurriedly stripped the sheets off, dropping them in a pile on the floor.

"You're going to make a great husband," Miss Parker snorted as she walked over and winked at the invalid. "Leaving everything around for your wife to pick up."

"Was that a proposal, Miss Parker?" He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and she grinned.

"We'll see. It depends on how well you make the bed."

Jarod grabbed the pillow from the bed and pulled off the cover, folding it neatly and placing it on the table with an expression that was supposed to be meek. A few moments later the bed was remade with the corners folded crisply and the cover turned back invitingly.

"Well?"

"Hmm, I need more time to consider."

"Isn't that just like a woman?" Jarod snorted with a grin at both Broots and his daughter. "Never able to make up her mind."

"Okay, that's it. You've ruined your chances completely. No wedding."

"Aw!" Jarod collected the sheets in his arms and walked to the door. "And I was so looking forward to it, too..."

*~*

"Ethan?"

Jarod peered into the room where the baby was lying in its cot and he saw his brother looking down at the infant, a smile on his face.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting to know him."

"By watching him sleep?"

"She was telling me about him."

"Catherine?"

Ethan nodded and walked towards his brother who still stood in the doorway, one hand in his pocket. Jarod put out a hand and grabbed Ethan's arm as he was about to walk past.

"I want to talk to you."

"So talk."

"Not here." Jarod opened the door to the bedroom he shared with Miss Parker and steered Ethan inside.

"Where's my sister?"

"Chatting with mine. I saw them in the living room when I finally went down to put the dirty sheets from Debbie's bed in the washing machine after helping her back to bed."

Ethan sat on the bed, leaving Jarod to lean against the door. "What's up?"

"I want to know if you're okay. I feel like I've been neglecting you a little, with all the attention that I've been paying to your sister and Syd and everyone else."

"Jarod, it's fine. I understand - I really do."

"Sure?"

Ethan grinned. "One hundred percent sure. Don't worry about me. I can always find somebody else equally as ignored to talk to."

"Thanks!" Jarod rolled his eyes. "I feel really good now."

The two brothers laughed for a moment before Ethan looked over again. "Was there something else?"

"What makes you say that?"

"You're still standing against the door like you're scared I'm going to run away at the first opportunity."

Jarod paused for a moment. "I wanted to know... have you heard if everything's going to be okay? I mean," he continued hurriedly, "I don't want you to try and pressure yourself into hearing something you might not. I just thought, if we were all going to die tomorrow, you might have heard about it from your mother."

"As far as I know, everything's going to be fine."

"Meaning that you haven't heard anything."

"Nothing relevant, no. I mean none of the stuff you've uncovered has had anything to do with me directly, although a lot of it has affected me."

"And you don't mind...?"

"Jarod, please! I'm not angry and not ignored. That's not to say I won't be if you don't open the door..."


The Pretender laughed and acquiesced.

*~*
"Syd, you okay?"

"I think so."

Jarod shook his head as he stood in the doorway. "So you're not. If you were, you would have given me a straightforward answer as a signal that you wanted me to go away and mind my own business."

The psychiatrist laughed and straightened himself in his chair. "You know me far too well. Between yourself and my daughter, there's nothing I can do that you aren't ready for."

"So you're about to ask if I've found anything and the answer is that I'm sorry, but I haven't had a chance to look yet."

"What have you been doing?" Sydney's curiosity was obvious on his face and Jarod laughed again.

"I'll take that as proof of the fact that I was right. And I've been trying to make sure that I'm not alienating some members of my family by spending more time with the others. Oh yes, and teasing your daughter."

"Well," Sydney smiled, "I'm sure new experiences are good for her."

Jarod laughed. "I'll take a look this afternoon and, if I find anything, you'll be among the first to know."

"Among the first?"

"Parker claimed my company this afternoon because she says she only sees me when I'm asleep and, for some strange reason, that isn't enough for her. So I'll look into it while trying to keep her happy."

"You certainly don't want to make her unhappy," Sydney laughed. "We can't afford for this house to go up due to her fireworks."

The Pretender turned to leave the room but Sydney's voice stopped him.

"Oh, and Jarod?"

He looked over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"If you don't manage to find time to look this afternoon, I'll understand."

*~*

"About time." Miss Parker pulled Jarod into the living room and shut the door firmly behind him. "What on earth were you doing?"

"Making sure that Debbie wasn't suffering any ill effects from being out of bed this morning and that her father wasn't suffering any ill effects from watching her suffer through it, checking that my brother isn't suffering any ill effects from having to face his nightmares, ensuring that my father and sister aren't suffering any ill effects from hardly seeing me all day, checking that our brother isn't suffering any ill effects as a result of being ignored and, last but by no means least, proving to myself that your father isn't suffering any ill effects from the stress he's currently under."

Miss Parker sat back against the cushion on the sofa, her lips twitching. "And how about me?"

Jarod placed the computer case down on the floor and sat on a chair opposite her. "Are you suffering any ill effects?" he enquired politely, his eyes dancing with laughter.

"Only from not having enough time with you."

"But you spend time with me every night!"

Miss Parker snorted. "Yes, and that's just great, isn't it? You spend so long with other people all day that the only thing you're capable of is to fall asleep taking your shoes off."

"Hey, I only did that once."

"Once was more than enough."

Jarod grinned. "If you keep on talking like that, people are going to start thinking you like me."

"If I could actually spend more than ten minutes a day with you when you were conscious, I might be able to make up my own mind on that point."

"Aw!" Jarod injected his voice with as much sarcasm as possible. "Is the little lady feeling neglected all of a sudden?"

Miss Parker stood and up and grabbed the cushion against which she had been sitting. As she was about to hit him, however, he put out a hand and seized her wrist, pulling her down onto his lap.

"I could make it up to you." His voice was deep with suggestiveness.

"How?" She opened her eyes wide in a look of mock-innocence.

"Got any plans for tonight?"

"Hmm," she rubbed her chin thoughtfully, "well, probably nothing that can't be put off until a later date, if I try really hard." She eyed him. "Will it be worth my while?"

With one arm still wrapped around her waist, Jarod loosened the collar of her shirt and lowered his mouth to her neck. She could feel his warm breath on the inside of her pale blue blouse and, despite herself, she shivered. His fingers gently eased their way under the belt that she wore around her waist and his fingertips gently brushed her skin, producing goose bumps on her arms and down her back. He drew back and grinned.

"So, is it worthwhile?"

She nodded. "I suppose I could make the effort."

"Good," his voice was husky. "If you can make an effort, I certainly can."

She removed herself from his lap and placed herself in a chair a short distance away with pronounced arms so that he couldn't come and squeeze in beside her. If he started anything now, she thought to herself, there's no way I could stop and, if anyone came in…

"So what's that for?"

"What's what for?" Jarod sat on the sofa she had vacated and tucked the cushion with which she had been threatening him behind his back for safety.

"The computer. Were you planning to do some more research?"

"If you didn't distract me effectively enough..." He grinned and watched as she responded in complete understanding in a similar fashion.

"I would have thought that any research you did would have been with Broots."

"It would be, Maleah, but he's been helping me quite a bit recently and I wanted to give him time with his daughter. Even Sydney is staying away from the room for a while. Of course, he's right next door and will hear if there's a problem, but she's doing so well that I don't think there will be."

"She's really better?"

"Well, as far as we can tell, everything seems to be going well. You see, when one kidney is injured, the second one can easily take over the work of both, allowing the damaged one to simply stop functioning and cause no ill effects at all. Without running a series of highly technical tests, for which I would need equipment that I can't possibly get here, I can't tell. Once we've solved the problem of the Centre, I'm going to give her a full medical examination, just to make sure we didn't miss anything. Sometimes things like this can cause injuries that will appear later in life and are harder to cure then."

"Solving the problem of the Centre? You make it sound so easy."

Jarod sighed. "I keep hoping that if I say it like that, I'll convince myself."

"Is it working?"

"Not so far."

She got up from the chair and came and sat on the footstool facing him. "How far have you got?"

He looked up at her and she could have sworn that he was blushing slightly. "Not much further than we were before we got hold of that password. There has to be a way to use it. I just can't think of what the most effective one would be."

"Hmm," she mused thoughtfully.

"What is it?" He glanced over and was intrigued to see that there was a small smile curling the corners of her mouth. "What crazy thoughts are passing through your mind now?"

"Crazy?!" She bounced to her feet, hands on hips. "I've a good mind not to tell you now."

"But you will." He lowered his voice and she felt a slight shiver go through her.

"Okay," she interrupted quickly, "I will. Anything to keep you right where you are right now."

He raised one eyebrow in a movement that any third person in the room would have recognized as something he had learned from her. Then, laughing, he shook his head. "Can we get back to it? What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking," she sat down again and rocked back on the footstool, being careful not to overbalance, "how much the Yakuza would have loved access to that kind of information when they were taking revenge on Lyle."

He stared at her for a moment, his mouth hanging slightly open. The pause in the room began to lengthen as Miss Parker mused over her first view of Lyle without his fifth digit and Jarod sat staring blankly at her. Finally, he spoke.

"Parker, you're a genius!"

"I am?" She turned and gaped at him. "Are you sure? I thought," she added, as her tone became more teasing, "that was your specialty."

"Dad!" Ignoring her last comments, Jarod ran over to the door of the living room and pulled it open. "Dad!" His voice reverberated through the house and Major Charles appeared at the top of the stairs.

"What is it, son? Is something wrong?"

"The complete opposite! Get everybody down here, now!"

"Jarod," Miss Parker grabbed his arm as the Pretender's father disappeared into the first of the bedrooms. "What's going on?"


"You've just saved all our lives, Parker," he grinned. "And I want everyone else to know how smart you are!" He brought his mouth down to hers and claimed it for a few moments before letting her go.

*~*

"What is it, Jarod? What's going on?"

The Pretender looked first across at Sydney as he asked the question and grinned.

"Your daughter just provided us with the way to beat the Centre."

There was a general gasp and Sydney looked over at Parker, puzzled. Mystified, she raised her hands in the air and shrugged.

"Are you going to let us in on the secret?"

Jarod grabbed a chair and, turning it around, straddled it and wrapped his arms around the back.

"And first," Miss Parker interrupted, "can you tell me what I said?"

"Our solution is easy - and consists of one word. Masters. It is, as we all know, the key to opening up the Centre's mainframe. The suggestion that Parker, however inadvertently, made was that we make that word public knowledge." He paused and looked around, noticing that confusion was still apparent on some faces and swallowing his frustration, explained. "We all know just how many underhanded dealings and bad business transactions the Centre has been involved in. If, since some of them must have gone sour, they haven't made enemies, I'll be stunned. That means..."

"...that if we opened the Centre's mainframe up to their enemies, they would tear the place apart while we watched," Steven jumped in, having understood where Jarod was going earlier but now unable to restrain himself.

"Exactly, Steve." Jarod grinned across at him. "And the beauty of the whole plan is that not one of us needs to go anywhere near the place."

"And you think it will work?"

"Think about it, Sydney!" Jarod allowed his frustration to be obvious in his voice as he looked at the psychiatrist. "It's like opening up the floodgates. Wouldn't you take the chance, if you could?"

The Music of the Heart
Part 11 - Fortissimo


"There's a problem, Jarod."

The phrase cut through the conversation that had broken out after Jarod had finished explaining his idea.

"What is it?" He looked over at the technician, a hint of annoyance on his face that his wonderful idea could be compromised.

"Us."

"Who - us?"

"Everybody at this house. The use of that word will reveal all information about everything and everyone at the Centre - including bank account details, home addresses," he paused. "And all of the work any of us have ever done there: all your simulations and their results included."

Jarod sat down heavily and exhaled slowly. Then he looked up. "You're right. I hadn't even given that a thought. We'd be in as much danger from the Centre's competitors as from the Centre itself."

"Unless, of course, we could use that fact to our advantage."

Every figure in the room turned to the boy as he made that statement, still sitting in the easy chair in the corner.

"Well?" Jarod's impatient voice broke through the silence that followed. "We're all waiting to hear about your idea."

Steven slid forward in the chair until he was sitting on the edge of the seat, and pressed the tips of his fingers together as he spoke. "We create a wall. One that blocks certain information - not only about us, but a few vital pieces that the corporations will need as final proof before they tear into the Centre. Then we let them know that we will give them the information they want...if they give us the Centre in return."

Major Charles sat open-mouthed, staring at his younger son. "Are you saying that we would be in charge of the Centre?"

"Why not? We know everything that's wrong with it. We could do what people have been doing to us for years - invert the results. The Centre could become beneficial, and beneficial to us most of all."

"And that would give us a chance to save some of the projects that my mother always wanted to." Miss Parker's eyes gleamed and then she spun around. "Is it possible to build that kind of a wall?"

Jarod, Steven and Broots shrugged simultaneously. "It's a computer program," the three voices said as one. "You can always find a way around them."

*~*

"It occurs to me to wonder," Miss Parker began as she looked up from the chair in the corner to which she had retreated when the three males made a concerted dash for the computer and the other occupants of the room had fled, laughing.

Clearing her throat to get their attention, she tried again. "I would be very interested in finding out who put this password into play in the first place."

Jarod looked up from the keyboard that he had commandeered and smiled at her. "Would you be particularly surprised to hear that it was your mother?"

"When?"

"May, 1959, just after she learned that she had been artificially inseminated to create you and Timmy."

"What?!"

Miss Parker wasn't the only person staring at Jarod and the silent figure of her father stopped short in the doorway.

"I found a file that recorded the actual operation. I'm sure you can guess who performed it."

There was a long pause before Broots spoke up. "I think we can not only assume that Dr Raines saw you naked. I think it would be reasonable to guess that he was responsible for your whole creation."

Jarod nodded and then continued. "Catherine Parker was the first subject of artificial insemination within the Centre, or anywhere else in the world for that matter. Mr Parker suggested that, considering her state of robust health, she would make the perfect candidate. In addition, he had read in her diary about her inner sense, and that augmented his suggestion."

"And…why Sydney? Why not use himself?"


"In case it didn't work. If something went wrong, he could blame Sydney. When it went right, he took all the credit."

*~*

Miss Parker sat on the edge of the bed and held her head. When she heard the door open and close, she looked up to find her father standing in the doorway.

"Are you alright, Maleah?"

"That's the first time you've ever called me that."

"It's the first time I’ve ever felt comfortable doing so. You've been 'Parker' to me for so long."

"And I'm not even one of them," she spat angrily.

Sydney sat next to her and slipped an arm around her shoulders, his voice soft. "Would you really want to be?"

"I don't know. I'm so confused, Sydney," she burst out. "And I don't even know what to call you anymore!"

"'Sydney' is still fine. It took your brother a while to change, too."

She nodded and, in an uncharacteristic movement, wiped her nose with back of her hand. Sydney smiled and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, tucking it into her hand.

"Do you mind?" For a moment she was terrified to meet his eye, unsure of the expression she would see on his face. Gathering her courage, she finally looked up to find him smiling at her, tears in his eyes.

"No, Parker." He took her hand in his and kissed it gently, the intensity of his gaze forcing her to continue to meet his eyes. "I don't mind at all."

*~*

Jarod stood up and began to pace the length of the room, his hands linked firmly behind his head.

"What are we going to do?"

"Son?" The three looked over to see Major Charles standing in the doorway, a worried expression on his face. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes," Jarod nodded emphatically. "We don't know what information to hide."

Major Charles laughed. "You mean you've managed to build the wall already?"

"Of course," Steven tried to speak casually. "That was the easy bit..."

The older man walked over and wrapped an arm around the boy's neck, scrubbing his hair with a fist. Laughing as the boy fought to escape, he turned back to his oldest son, an expression of curiosity on his face.

"Surely it's just a matter of working out what the most important data would be..."

"But if we hide too much, then they would lose interest. If we don't hide enough, they'll have no use for us."

"Hmm, good point."

"Jarod," the technician looked up. "I think I might have the idea."

"Well?"


"Why don't we give them the 'who', 'what', 'when' and 'how'? Then they come to us for the 'where'."


"Wow!" Jarod dropped into a chair and stared at Broots. "I didn't know I was surrounded by geniuses."

*~*

"The point of no return. Are we going to do it?"

Jarod looked around at the other people in the room, watching as, one by one, they nodded their heads.

"Good. One push of this button..." The Pretender spoke decisively and then, as a humorous glint came into his eye, spoke again. "If there be anyone present who objects to the destruction of the Centre, speak now or forever hold your peace."

His finger hovered over the key. Then, firmly, he pressed it.

*~*

Miss Parker was lying on her stomach, her head resting on her hands, when Jarod entered the bedroom that night.

"Parker?" He sat down on the mattress and began to gently rub her back with his hands. "Is anything wrong?"

She shrugged silently, still peering blindly out into the darkness, now exacerbated by the fog that, after a day of clear weather, had returned. He lay down so that his head gently rested on the middle of her back and waited. It was more than twenty minutes before she began to fidget slightly underneath him.

"Better?"

He raised his head and his brown eyes met her blue ones. She nodded mutely and allowed him to wrap his arms around her.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong or do I have to guess?"

"I..." Her voice was soft, so unlike her usual tones that he raised an eyebrow questioningly. "I don't know."

"You said that before," he reminded her gently. "You had your reasons then. Are you going to tell me what they are now?"

She smiled faintly. "I'm confused."

With a gentle hand, he stroked her cheek and ran one thumb along her jaw. "Is that all?"

"Isn't it enough?" Something in his tones stung her pride and she sat upright and stared down at him.

"It would be," he smiled gently, "in some people. But with you, I'd expect something more."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You know me too well."

"Payback."

"For?"

"The fact that you know me too well."

Miss Parker smiled sadly and then lay down so that her hair brushed his arm. He raised it and rested one hand on her head, stroking gently with his fingers.

"Have you ever been afraid, Jarod?"

"Yes, Parker." His voice was a whisper as he turned his head. "I've been afraid almost my entire life."

"And how do you deal with it?"

"What are you afraid of, Maleah?"

*~*

"Syd?"

The psychiatrist looked up as his name was spoken by the technician who sat, as usual, by the bed of his rapidly recovering daughter. While Debbie slept, he was using the time for a little more investigation into the Centre's files.

"What is it, Broots?"

"Do you think we're going to get out of this alive? I mean we're going up against the Centre..."

Sydney nodded. "I understand. It sounds strange, but I think that if Mr Parker and Mr Cox were still alive, we would have less of a chance. As it is, we're against two people who have always managed to underestimate Jarod, if not the rest of us as well. There's also the added advantage that they think you're dead. That drastically improves our chances."

"Why?"

"Ask Jarod. He explained it to me..."

"...and I would gladly explain it again, but this is more important."

"Jarod!" Sydney turned to the door with a smile. "I thought you had gone to bed."

"Daddy..." a voice murmured.

Broots turned to the bed as his daughter spoke. "What is it, Debbie?"

"It's bright..." Her words were a mumble but Broots got up out of his chair.

"We'll go downstairs." He bent down and kissed her gently. "Good night, baby." As he followed Sydney and Jarod from the room, he cast one last glance over his shoulder before turning out the light.

"How's Parker?"

"Asleep, finally. She's... worried."

"Again."

"I think," Jarod's face wore a faint grin as he faced the technician, "it might be 'still'. She keeps seeing a scene in her mind that seems to involve Lyle and myself. I want to ask Ethan about it tomorrow."

"Actually," Sydney glanced at his watch, "why wait? You can ask him today."

Jarod threw a grin that was a mixture of amusement and frustration in the direction of the psychiatrist. "Thanks," he commented dryly. "Eminently helpful."

"I aim to please." Sydney's face reflected Broots' grin before he became serious again. "What was it that you started to say upstairs that was so important that you couldn't even explain to Broots why he's important?"

Jarod stood up from his chair and walked over to the window. "Correct me," he began slowly, "if I'm wrong but doesn't all footage, in order to be made into DSAs, have to go through one central process?"

Realizing that the question was being directed at him, Broots nodded. "Yes. In particular if the footage has been shot from an outside source and needs to be converted into the correct format. But even information recorded on the Centre's camera system has to be put through a central computer before it's accessible to anybody in the form of DSAs."

"Why, Jarod?" Sydney turned to the pretender, a questioning look on his face.

"It was something Raines said," Jarod returned. "For some reason, the comment keeps replaying itself in my mind."

"How on earth would you know what Raines said?" Broots looked mystified.

"Mr. Broots, what have we just been talking about?"

"DS... never mind."

"What was it, Jarod?"

"Something that he said to Miss Parker - about her mother..."

"Jarod! Jarod!"

The Pretender leapt to his feet as the voice of his father could be heard from the upper storey.

"Dad?"

"Son, get up here!"

Jarod ran for the stairs and was up them and out of sight in a matter of seconds as Broots and Sydney watched.

"Do you want to go up there?"

Sydney shook his head. "They'll call if I'm needed. In the meantime, we can start looking for it."

"For what, Syd? What was he talking about?"

The older man smiled. "Catherine Parker's DSA."

*~*

"Dad, what...?"

Jarod came to a stop outside his own room and glanced inside as he spoke, not bothering to finish his sentence as he saw Miss Parker twitching in a violent nightmare on the bed. He looked over his shoulder as he stepped over to the bed. "Get Ethan."

Major Charles nodded and disappeared from the doorway. Jarod turned back to the bed and looked down at Miss Parker. Leaning down, he placed a gentle hand on her cheek, then jumped backwards as she lashed out at him.

"Don't touch her." Jarod jumped again as he heard the voice in the doorway and looked up to see their brother standing there. "Talk to her."

"What?"

"That scene she told you about - she's seeing it, hearing it… feeling it again. Say something to her." He moved over to the bed and stood beside his brother, staring down at the woman. "Trust me."

"Parker," Jarod looked away and focused on her. "Parker, it's me. It's Jarod."

"No," the voice from the bed was faint. "No, it's not true."

"Parker, open your eyes. Look at me. Please."

The last word was choked, Jarod in almost as much pain from watching her suffer as she was in suffering it. Ethan looked down and then placed one hand on his sister's shoulder and shook hard, ducking as she struck out with one hand in his direction.

To the relief of both, however, the act resulted in her eyes flying open and she sat upright. Jarod clutched her to him and held her against him, tears standing out in his own eyes as the salt-laden droplets poured down her cheeks.

"It's all right," the Pretender spoke soothingly as he rocked her gently. "It's over, Parker. It's over. I'm here."


"No," she whispered. "It's not over." She looked up at Ethan. "It's not over yet, is it?" She pulled gently away, allowing Jarod to keep one arm around her, and they both looked up at their brother.

"I don't think so." He leaned against the wall facing them, his arms folded over his chest.

"Tell me what it is." There was a commanding tone in Jarod's voice. "Then I can work out how to avoid it."

Ethan shook his head. "You don't understand. There's no way to avoid what we saw. It just..."

"We?" Jarod looked sharply at him. "You didn't tell me you saw it too."

"I didn't want to worry you."

"Oh, great." Jarod threw both hands up in the air and got up off the bed, pacing across the length of the room. "I'm about to get killed but nobody bothers to tell me when, how, where or any of the other important things."

Ethan looked up at his brother. "It's... complicated."

"So tell me what you see." Jarod tried to speak calmly. His brother paused for a moment before responding.

"There's you and Lyle facing off - but only he's holding a weapon. He forces you down - and that's it..."

Miss Parker shuddered as he spoke the words and pulled her legs up to her chest, sliding backwards so that she rested against the wall at the head of the bed. Ethan sat beside her and placed one hand on her foot, watching the pretender as he continued to wear down the carpet.

"So I'm going to die..." The words were whispered but Ethan heard them.

"Nobody ever said that you were going to die, Jarod."

"No, of course not. I'm just about to get into a confrontation with Lyle. Well, I've got news for you, brother. Most of those meetings don't work out well for one or the other of us and I think that if Lyle was the one who was going to get the raw end of the deal, your sister probably wouldn't be reacting that badly."

He reached the end of the room and stared hard at the wall for a moment before turning around, his eyes narrow. "'That's it...' What do you mean by that? If I'm not going to die, what is going to happen?"

Ethan shrugged. "I don't know. I can't get further than that. Whether it's because my mind won't let me or that she won't show me, I don't know."

"Great," Jarod growled, half to himself. "Either I'm definitely going to die or else I'm possibly going die. What a wonderful choice." With an inward tremble that he struggled hard to suppress, he opened the door and walked out, slamming it behind him.

*~*

Jarod sank down at the base of the tree and looked upwards, his head pressed back into the hard trunk and one tear slowly making its way down his face. He still shook slightly from a combination, now, of both fear and cold. The moon shone faintly through the mists and, away to his right, a faint light could be seen to be the glow from the many windows of the house.

"Jarod?"

The female voice came faintly from the same direction as the light and he turned his face away with a soft moan. A light, first glowing faintly orange and then every moment becoming more yellow showed itself finally to be a torch carried by his sister. She came up beside him and, with loving arms, wrapped his jacket around his shoulders.

"If you don't warm up, Lyle might not get his chance."

"How did you know?" He looked up at her, a hint of resentment on his face.

"Ethan had to explain to Dad, Sydney and Broots why you took off the way you did. I heard what he said and slipped out to look for you."

"And… Parker?"

"Her father is with her."

Jarod nodded and then allowed his head to sink on the arms that were resting on his bent knees. His sister knelt down and wrapped her arms around him.

"Jarod." Her voice was soft and, as he looked up, he could see the tears in her eyes. "I..." Unable to continue, she looked down at him. A tear slipped down her cheek and dropped onto his own. Finally she spoke again. "Won't you come back to the house? Please?"

He nodded mutely and she helped him to his feet. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and they walked in silence towards the increasingly brighter lights away to the right.

They entered the living room to find their family waiting for them. Steven jumped up as they appeared and threw his arms around Jarod. The Pretender thankfully knelt down so that they were looking eye to eye and allowed himself to be firmly embraced, retaining hold of the boy as he stood up.

"Dad..." His voice broke as he looked over at the man he was just beginning to get to know as his father and whose eyes now bore an expression of unutterable sadness.

"I know, son. I know."

Getting up, he put one hand gently on his son's shoulder and then left the room, sighing sadly as he did so. Jarod caught his sister’s eye and nodded in the same direction. She smiled faintly, tears in her eyes, and then followed her father out of the room.

"Ethan," Jarod sat down on the sofa, his arms still wrapped around his clone, and glanced over at the only other person in the room. "Where's Parker?"

"In with Sydney and Angelo."

"And Broots?"

"With his daughter."

Jarod nodded. In his own mind, he was thinking that this was what a condemned man must feel in the hours before being led to the death chamber. He gave a second inward shudder.

"We still have things to do."

"But not yet. Not tonight," Ethan answered and then stood up. "I'm going to find out how my sister's doing."

Jarod nodded and watched as his brother left the room. In the silence, he could feel his clone shaking with silent tears.

"Steve."

The boy's arms tightened around his neck at the sound of his voice. "I won't let him do it, Jarod! I swear, I won't! I'll kill him! I'll..."

"Steve." He pulled the boy gently away so that he could look down on the small, tear-stained face. "You'll be their best comfort." He paused. "Don't do anything that would disappoint them."

Numbly he watched as the boy sprang off his lap and fled the room, his sobs loudly puncturing the otherwise silent house.

The Music of the Heart
Part 12 - Con Intensita


Jarod stopped at the doorway and looked in. Maleah was sitting on the edge of their bed, her head in her hands.

"I should have shot him," he heard her say, "when I had the chance."

Glancing around, he saw that Sydney stood in the corner of the room, staring out into the sky, in which the moon could be seen more clearly now. It seemed to Jarod that he had aged within that space of a few hours and that the same look of grief he had seen in his father's eyes was also now present in those of the psychiatrist. Still without having alerted them to his presence, Jarod turned and left the room, unable and unwilling to say a word.

He walked into the room of the baby that was a part of him. In his mind, he could again hear the conversation he had had with Steven about the baby.

I guess I need some time to think about it...

His own words came back to haunt him now and he slid slowly down the wall on the other side of the room and let the emotions that were in his heart have full control over him.

Time.

He looked down at his hands and watched as the tears from his eyes dropped down onto them. The light from the moon, moving slowly through the clear sky, now dotted with stars, shone clearly on him and made the shining trails on his cheeks stand out clearly to the figure that now stood in the doorway. Still encased in shadow, she made her way over to him and sat down beside him. Although he had made no sign of his awareness that she was there, now he moved slightly to the side and then lay down so that his head rested on her legs. She could feel the tears that continued to run down his face as she ran her fingers through his hair.

"Jarod."

He never responded to the spoken word, wrapped up in his own thoughts.

"Jarod, can you hear me?"

When he still didn't respond, she leaned forward and looked down into his eyes, shuddering to see them so blank. As she shifted, however, she noticed that he moved in response. Slowly, cautiously, she helped him to stand upright and then, with an arm around his waist, urged him along the hallway to their bedroom. It was with a sense of satisfaction that she noticed it was empty. He sat on the edge of the bed when she placed him there and remained unmoving while she leaned down and eased off his shoes. Only when, after several long moments, they were lying, facing each other, on the bed, did he react.

"Oh, Parker." His voice was a whisper, so full of pain that her eyes filled and she drew him closer to her.

"We still have tonight," she said to him in similarly soft tones. "Let's not forget that we still have these few hours."

He nodded and, his eyes finally beginning to show some signs of life, wrapped his arms around her body. His face nestled into her neck and she lowered her chin so that it rested on the top of his head.

"Parker..."

"No, Jarod," she pleaded. "No words. It's too hard."

He nodded mutely, allowing the tears that slipped onto her warm skin to say what he could not and she would not.

*~*

When he looked at her, she was finally asleep. The sun, delayed in rising due to the lateness of the season, was just showing itself on the horizon when he slipped out of her arms. For several moments he stood beside the bed and looked down at her. Turning, he pulled a jacket on over his t-shirt and slipped his feet into his shoes. Going down into the kitchen, he found it empty and concluded that he was the first one up. He grabbed his jacket from the hook near the door and pulled it on as he descended the stairs, walking towards the trees.

"Good morning, genius."

The voice was cool and measured and, as Jarod turned towards it, he could feel nothing but sadness. It's too soon, his heart tried to say, but somehow Jarod had always known it would be like this.

"Hello, Lyle."

"Up with the birdies this morning, aren't we? If they're lucky, they'll be able to see you buried before they go back to their nests tonight."

There was a pause, during which time Jarod glanced around at the brightening sky and the silent house, away to his left.

"Aren't you going to ask what I'm doing here? I would have thought it would’ve been pretty high on your list of priorities."

"I suppose," Jarod answered with a calmness that was sweeping over him, taking over from the sorrow, "you're here to escape from the people who are currently finding out all the Centre's dirty little secrets."

"So you did know about that." Lyle took several steps closer. "I thought you must have been behind it. I guess you thought you were pretty clever. Raines probably did too, if he had the chance to realize it before they killed him." He rocked back on his heels and sent a glance of annoyance to the house. "I had a look inside this morning. Pretty little set-up you've got going there. It's a pity that none of them will be in time to save you." He laughed, a sound that sent a chill up Jarod's spine. "Do you know how easy it all was? All I had to do was feed that technician a bit of information. That was enough for my father - I should say, my late father, may God rest his soul - to order him killed. I knew, of course, that that would have my precious sister running off to find you."

My God, Jarod thought as he watched the man facing him. He still doesn't know that they aren't related.

"And then, of course, there was the most useful part. I finally got rid of the doctor, once and for all. Much too dangerous, that one," Lyle smirked. "He knew far too much about the Centre for his own good, let alone everybody else's. I'm looking forward to seeing his face before I pull the trigger. He's played dumb long enough. Let's see what he can tell me before he dies."

Oh, Parker. Jarod's face almost revealed the whole of his mental pain. Why didn't we work out that I wouldn't be the only one he would kill? And now I'm not going to be able to do anything to save you...

"We have to make sure that we do this right." The change of Lyle's tones told Jarod that he had finished dreaming and was now back to reality. "Let's see, how was it again, in that cabin when you were trying save the life of that shrink's precious son? Oh, yes." He stepped in so that the barrel of the gun was shoved up against the Pretender's chest. "Get down on your knees."

It was almost a relief to Jarod that he could drop down. The whirlpool of emotions that were spinning in his head made it difficult for him to remain upright. He hardly noticed that Lyle had moved around behind him, the gun pressed into the back of his neck.

"What, no begging? No pleading for your life, or hers? You could at least give me that satisfaction."

"I wouldn't beg from you. And nothing I could say would save her life."

Oh Parker, he thought again. I'm so sorry. I love you so much.

"Ready."

Jarod closed his eyes and let the faces of those gathered in the house mass in the front of his mind. I love you all, he thought to himself, and I never got the chance to tell you how much.

"Aim."

I hope I was a credit to you all. I hope that you won't think too badly of me.

"Fire."

*~*

All seven people in the kitchen could clearly hear the sound of the gunshot. For a long moment they paused, all refusing to meet the eyes of the others. Slowly, one by one, they got to their feet and closed their eyes. They all refused to look in the direction that the sound had come from.


They didn't want to see...

They didn't want to know...

*~*

He opened his eyes and turned to see the body lying on the ground behind him, blood pouring from the hole in the head. A tremor went through him and he looked up to see the technician looking down at the dead man.

"May God rest his soul. If he ever had one."

"B...Broots?'

"That sounds familiar." His face was pale, but Broots still managed to grin as he walked over and extended one hand. "Are you going to get up, or do you want to stay there?"

Jarod grabbed the hand and slowly got to his feet. Then he faced the man who had saved his life.

"Why?"

"Because I wanted the chance to repay you for what you did. I found the truth last night." Broots gently kicked the body that lay on the ground on front of him. "He was the one driving the car when it hit us. If Debbie had died," his voice trembled, but he controlled it and continued, "if she’d died, he would have been the one responsible for killing her. And you were the one who saved her. And me."

Jarod thought about this for several seconds. "How did you know?"

Broots glanced up with a smile. "I got up early to go for a walk. On the way out, I met Ethan. Without saying anything, he handed me the gun that had been hanging on a holster under your jacket. Something inside told me to take it." He stared off into the distance for a moment. "I was behind a tree when I heard his voice. I wanted to shoot him straight away, but I was scared that I might have hit you. When he made you kneel down, he gave me the chance I needed. I took it."

*~*
They all heard the two sets of footsteps climbing the stairs and approaching the door. Miss Parker stepped in front of the boy as he was about to walk towards the door.

"No, Steven." Her voice was a whisper. "Don't."

She looked over to first the figure of her father and then his. Both pairs of eyes were full of tears and, as she blinked, she found that they were in her own also. As the door opened, every person in the room turned towards it...

His eyes met hers first of all. He watched as the color slid from her face and she swayed on her feet. He was beside her as she began to fall and he caught her in his arms as she lost consciousness. Gently he lifted her and carried her to the sofa, laying her body gently down on it before he felt the hand on his shoulder. He looked up to meet his father’s tear-filled eyes.

"Jarod..."

"I know, Dad." The son smiled. "I know." He stood and threw both arms around him, the two embracing with more fervor than ever before. Over the shoulder of his father, Jarod saw the expression of confusion in the eyes of his sister and he watched as she took a step towards the window.

"No, Emily."

She stopped as she heard his voice. In three steps he was beside her.

"Don't look. Please."

As she threw both arms around him, he held her close. "I love you, Em."

"I love you, too, Jarod."

Satisfied, he was about to look around again when he heard a sound from the sofa. Glancing over, he watched Sydney sitting beside his daughter and that his own father's face held a warning expression. For a moment, then, Jarod paused.

"Maleah?" Sydney gently patted his daughter's cheek. "Come on, wake up now."

"Dad?"

Jarod saw the gentle smile that lit his former teacher's face at the term.

"Yes, Maleah, it's me."

"Are we all… dead?"

"No, Miss Parker." Broots stepped over to the sofa and knelt beside it, taking one of her hands in his. "We're all very much alive."

She looked up at him for a moment before her eyes filled with tears.

"What is it?" Sydney brushed the first of them away with a gentle finger but found that it was ineffective and was required to use his handkerchief to stem the flow.

"I thought I saw him… here. I thought I saw Jarod come in."

"You did, Parker."

"No," she shook her head. "I heard the shot."

"You heard a shot," Broots corrected. "You heard the shot that killed Mr Lyle."

"Then...?"

At this point Jarod felt the hand that was pressing the middle of his back and he looked up to meet his father's eye.

"Go on, Jarod." Only the Pretender heard the whispered words. "Go on, son."


He nodded and stepped towards the sofa. The angle at which he approached meant that she didn't see him until, kneeling at its head, he gently brushed her hair from her face with a loving hand.

*~*

Late that night she nestled in his arms and looked up at him as though she could never see him often enough. He ran the backs of his fingers down the side of her face and she closed her eyes and clasped his hand, drawing it to her chest.

"I love you, Parker."

He felt the tremor go through her and understood. He wasn't the first to say those words and he knew as well as she what had happened to the last man who had said them.

"Nobody will take me away from you."

"Nobody?" She clung to him for a moment.

"There's nobody left who could do it. The only two remaining people who had any power at the Centre will never hurt anybody ever again. Including us."

He lowered his mouth to hers and sealed the pact with a gentle kiss that began to restore some of the courage she felt had been lost that day.

"And what now?"

"Do you mean right now, or for the future?"

"Both."

He considered for a moment. "I'll leave right now alone - for now."

She giggled softly and then realized he hadn't meant it for humor.

"As for the future, there are still things we have to finish. Unfortunately the list is quite long."

"Does that matter?" She traced a pattern on his bare chest with one finger. "We really do have all the time in the world now."

*~*

Sydney stepped into the hallway and saw Major Charles hovering outside the closed bedroom door.

"What are you doing up?" His voice was muted but still audible and he watched as the other man blushed slightly.

"I was… I wanted to check that he was..."

In amusement, the psychiatrist walked over. "Don't you think that, if he wasn't, we would have heard something?"

Major Charles nodded sheepishly and then glanced at his watch. "Come to think of it, what are you...?"

Jarod's father watched, amused in his turn, as Sydney also blushed. "I guess great minds really do think alike." He smiled. "Do you know what I'm thinking right now?"

"Hmm," Major Charles thought for a moment. "That coffee would be nice?"

"Right."

In silent companionship, the two fathers descended the staircase.

*~*

Ethan rolled over onto his side and watched as the other occupant of the room stared out of the window.

"Steven? Are you alright?"

The body sniffed and tried to curl himself up under the covers. Ethan got up out of bed and walked over, sitting down on the edge of the boy's mattress. With a firm hand, he pulled back the blankets to reveal the swollen and tear-stained eyes of the boy.

"Steve, you don't have to be ashamed of feeling like that. We've all had a nasty shock today. It's natural you should feel upset."

"Do you?"

The words were half-muffled by a sniff but Ethan heard them and nodded. "But I was luckier than you. I had a small amount of preparation for it all, in a dream that I had last night. That told me that, although somebody would die today, if I took the right action, it wouldn't be my...our brother."

"C… Catherine?"

Ethan nodded. "I hoped, at the time, that my sister would have heard it too, but, maybe because it depended solely on me, she didn't."

"And...?"

Ethan slipped an arm around the boy's shoulders and squeezed gently. "We're safe, now. They can never hurt any of us again."

*~*

"Good morning."

Major Charles looked up to find his oldest son sitting at the kitchen table, his hands wrapped around a steaming mug.

"What are you doing up so...?"

"Early?" Jarod laughed. "Dad, it's already seven thirty. And I wanted the chance to watch the dawn again."

The father walked over and wrapped both arms around his son, hugging him firmly. "Where's Parker?"

"Showering. I volunteered to make breakfast and she said she'd help me, but I have to wait until she's ready." He looked sternly up at his father. "What time did you and Sydney finally go to bed?"

"How did you know?"

"I heard you."

"Something revoltingly early," Major Charles yawned. "We were talking for a while. I think it was something around three."

"Four." Sydney entered the room at this juncture. "It was almost four."

"And did you sleep?" Jarod looked up at them sternly. "Or did you both lie awake and think?"

"You know me too well," Sydney grinned.

"And me." Jarod's father interjected as he put the kettle on.

"He knows everybody too well," Miss Parker laughed as she entered the room, a towel wrapped around her wet hair, and sat on Jarod's knee.

"I also know that you're still damp," Jarod pushed her away. "And you're making me wet too."


"Aw, poor baby!" She grinned as she headed for the door again. "Isn't life awful?"

*~*

"How are you doing, Broots? Any ill effects from saving my life?" Jarod asked as he walked into the room where the technician sat and grinned at him.

"Any ill effects from having your life saved?"

Both men laughed and then Jarod turned to the figure that lay on the bed and was watching them with bright eyes.

"How would you like to get up and come downstairs, Debbie? Then maybe Miss Parker can read the rest of your book to you."

"Really?" She looked over at her father. "I can get up?"

"You heard what the doctor said, Debbie. If he thinks you can, I guess he's right."

"Do I get dressed first?"

"Hmm," Jarod looked thoughtful. "I think it might be better if we just get you out of bed today. That will be enough." Coming over to the side of the bed, he picked up his own jacket that he had brought upstairs for the purpose and then helped the little girl to sit on the edge of the bed.

"It's too big," she giggled as she looked down at the sleeves that extended far beyond the ends of her arms.

"It'll keep you warm." Dimples appeared on Jarod's cheeks. "And that's the most important thing." He helped her to stand up beside the bed and watched to make sure that she wasn't going to fall.

"Can I do anything, Jarod?"

"Grab the blankets from the bed." The Pretender glanced out of the window into the clear blue sky. "It might be warmer, but we won't take chances with anything like pneumonia at this stage." Out of the corner of his eye, he watched a bird fly across the sky outside and sighed happily.

"Ready, Debbie?"

The little girl nodded and set her jaw in a way that threatened to make both her father and Jarod laugh, being so like Miss Parker.

"Okay, let's go."

*~*

"Debbie!"

Maleah appeared in the doorway clad in tight-fitting black pants and a blue shirt, her hair swept to one side.

"Hi, Miss Parker." The girl scooped the last of the cereal from the bowl into her mouth and smiled up from the nest that the two men had made in a chair for her in the living room.

"It's good to see you up!" Maleah walked over and hugged Debbie.

"Will you read to me?"

Miss Parker took the book from the outstretched hand and sat down on a chair next to the girl, wrapping one arm around her shoulder.

"Sure."

Neither saw the smile that appeared on Broots’ face as he sat in the kitchen and silently watched them.

*~*

"I always thought I valued life before..."

Jarod spoke softly, but the man standing behind heard the words clearly and a thoughtful expression appeared on his face.

"I suppose it takes the threat of death - really facing it - to show how valuable life really is."

"And yet I wasn't scared, Sydney!" Jarod's eyes were wide in amazement as he turned and looked up at the man. "I was sad and regretful, but not scared."

"Sometimes." Sydney sat down on the ground beside his former protégée, "a person is feeling too much emotion at the moment when it looks like they will die to actually feel the fear."

"When did you feel that way?"

"Often." Sydney sighed. "In the camp, working at the Centre..."

Jarod nodded silently and then a point he had been thinking about during the previous night occurred to him again.

"Sydney, do you know, or can you remember, why I'm… why I was so important to the Centre?"

The psychiatrist looked up into the face that he knew so well. "I'm sorry, Jarod. I can't remember it at all… if I ever knew."

For a long moment there was silence. Finally Jarod looked up again. "You helped me once to get at a memory that I couldn't remember."

"Hypnosis, yes."

"Do you want to try it?"

Sydney's face bore a slight smile. "You can do it?"

"I've been a psychiatrist. It's highly overrated." Jarod grinned and then became serious again. "It's not that difficult. And we can only try..."

The Music of the Heart
Part 13 - Giubilante


Jarod shut the door of the room behind him as he stepped out into the corridor and looked up at Miss Parker who stood opposite.

"Nothing."

"What do you mean, 'nothing'?"

"I mean he can't remember. For some reason, even his subconscious has been blocked by someone."

"Or something," she murmured as she moved towards the door.

He watched her enter the room softly; his mind allowed her words to revolve within it. "Something…" he muttered to himself. "If it is something, I wonder what."

*~*

"What are you looking for?" Broots asked.

"I don't know." A small frown appeared on Jarod's face as he read over the information in front of him.

"Don't know?" Broots pulled up a chair and sat beside him. "How can you not know?"

"All right then, smarty," teased Jarod as he sat back. "You tell me what Mr Parker called a project that was used to wipe some of Sydney's memories."

"Ah."

The word was stated quietly and, with a smothered grin, Jarod turned back to the computer. Silence extended for more than twenty minutes until the Pretender sat back again.

"I've narrowed it down to three."

"On what basis?"

"Several. But primarily by date." He looked over at the technician. "During the session he had no problem recalling everything until soon after I was bought to the Centre. After that it becomes more patchy, leading up to the time about three months before Catherine Parker's death. Then it just stops, like somebody wiped it all away. He can remember some things," Jarod corrected himself, "like simulations we ran or conversations we had, but nothing apart from that."

"What do you have?"

"Aventine, Capua and Janus. The first was started in 1955 and Capua in early 1963. Janus was some months later." Jarod opened the first and scanned it rapidly. "It wasn't Aventine."

Broots shook his head. "Before you get into it, can you tell me what each of them are? My mythology isn't that good."

"Aventine was the site at which Ceres was worshipped. She was the Roman goddess of fertility. The project named in her honor," Jarod sneered slightly, "was the decision that Catherine Parker would make the ideal subject for the first IVF case. And, of course, her husband approved it."

"Of course." Broots nodded. "I would have thought that went without saying."

"Capua was the place that the goddess Diana was worshipped. She was the protector of children." Jarod fell silent for a moment as he absorbed the information in the file.

"What is it, Jarod?"

The Pretender's face was pale. "It was true."

"What was?"

"What my father told Miss Parker when she went to talk to him in the Centre after I rescued Steven."

"What did he say?"

Jarod sighed impatiently. "He said that Catherine and her husband were both keen to get Miss Parker and myself out of the Centre. According to this," Jarod waved in the direction of the computer, "when Catherine objected to several projects and threatened to expose the Centre, the Triumvirate threatened her. Mr Parker was willing for her to leave the Centre with Miss Parker and me. Capua was the secret plan that we would get out and Mr Parker was willing for it to happen." Jarod stopped for a moment and stared at the screen. "At least, he was willing provided that Sydney didn't accompany us." He stopped again. "That's why the car accident occurred, and why Michelle had to disappear."

"How did they learn about it?"

"Who?"

"The Triumvirate."

"Their pet told them."

"Raines?"

Jarod nodded, his mouth twisted bitterly as he stared out of the window.

"And Janus?"

Jarod's thoughts were brought back to the present as Broots spoke and he looked down to the computer, opening the file and reading the information.

"This is it." His face became sad. "This is what I wanted.

"What is...?"

"Janus was the god of gates. Gates, of course, block things. Highly imaginative." His lips twisted into a sneer again.

"And what was it?"

"A drug that Mr Parker had had designed and used it to erase information from Sydney's mind." Jarod turned and faced the technician. "If the information had only been blocked, we would have been able to find out about it under hypnosis. With this drug, Mr Parker was able to erase it."

"And who created it?"

Jarod got up suddenly, the chair tumbling onto its side, and ran over to the sink, where he retched for several moments before wiping his mouth and slowly turning around. "I did." His voice was almost inaudible. "I created that drug one year when Sydney was away visiting his brother."

"Can you reverse it?"

Jarod shook his head sadly. "Even if I did, there's nothing to reverse. The data is gone, lost. Nothing I could create would recall it."

"So - what now?"

"I want to find the information that was removed. There has to be a way of getting hold of it - especially now - but I can't."

"Jarod." The Pretender, becoming agitated, looked over as the technician spoke. "Why don't you let me hunt for it while you go and tell them what you found?"

"Tell them?" An expression of pain crossed Jarod's face. "How on earth am I supposed to tell them?"

*~*

"Why don't you remember it, Jarod? Why did you have to see the facts before they came back to you?"

He looked up from his seat on the bed to see Miss Parker standing in the doorway and shrugged indifferently.

"What does that matter?"

She came and knelt at his feet, resting her head on his knee. "It does matter. It matters a lot." She paused, but he remained silent. "Don't you see, Jarod? It must have been used on you, too."

He froze, his hand about to rest on her head but now hovering in the air about it.

"What?" It was a whisper forced out between teeth that seemed clenched firmly together.

"Broots came up and told us that he found something to say that it was used on you, as well. Mr Parker," the name came out bitterly between her lips but neither noticed, "used it to hide the fact of its creation, so you would never accidentally mention it to Sydney."

She reached up and captured his hand in both of hers, rising to sit on the bed next to him.

"Broots said he found the information you were looking for - and more."

*~*

"You see, Sydney," Broots looked up from the computer as Jarod and Maleah entered, "they've been using that drug for more than thirty years. According to this, every time that something had to be decided, the Triumvirate would come to you, you would sign the relevant form. Then Mr Parker would administer the drug so you forgot about it. It would wipe your short-term memory before you had a chance to store it, long-term, and so you would never remember."

"That puts him in danger!" Miss Parker placed one hand on each of her father's shoulders.

"No," Jarod shook his head. "It doesn't put him in danger because he was never allowed used his real name." He picked up a piece of paper. "I received this from the Yakuza this morning. It's a report that they want to get hold of a Cameron Horvath who, according to what they found, is the person who gave his assent for all of the transactions in which they were involved."

"But how could they... and how could you...?"

"Cameron... Horvath." Sydney's voice was thoughtful. "I remember that. Every Monday morning, before I would begin work, one or other of the Triumvirate would come in with a pile of papers and ask me just to quickly sign them using that name. I would be left alone with the papers for about an hour and then they would come back and take them away, always leaving either something to eat or drink behind."

"But why?"

"They wanted to set up a fall-guy, Maleah. To make it easier, and to restrict the amount of knowledge floating around the Centre, they made sure that only one person ever saw those forms. If anybody found out about it, no doubt they would immediately have produced a body and said that that was the person they wanted. Because of the things that Sydney read, he necessarily could learn all of the secrets of the Centre. That's what Lyle meant when he said that despite everything he knew he wouldn't treat your father any differently. And Catherine presumably had no idea of what Mr Parker was doing and believed that Sydney could still remember everything as well."

Jarod stopped for a moment before continuing.

"Because Mr Parker didn't fully understand the way that Janus worked, he was scared that if somebody stopped being treated with it, the memories might come back. That's why everything was done to keep Sydney at the Centre."

"And that's why you were so important to them, Jarod."

The group gathered in the kitchen looked at the technician.

"What do you mean?"

"It's here. Mr Parker wrote in a memo to the Triumvirate that, if you were ever allowed to completely disappear or were in any way permanently injured, Sydney might use the occasion to leave the Centre. Apparently Mr Parker knew about the treatment that Lyle was giving you when he dragged you back to the Centre but did enough to make sure that it wouldn't be permanent. It wasn't just because of your abilities - they could, and did recreate those." Broots looked at Steven. "But you built up an emotional connection with Sydney and that was what they couldn't afford to have broken off."

"You said that the Yakuza wanted Horvath."

Jarod nodded thoughtfully and then grinned. "I say we give him to them."

"What?! How?"

"Let's give them Lyle."

"Then you will be giving them Horvath."

Steven looked up from the computer he had been using and grinned as the others stared at him. Major Charles walked over and put one hand on his shoulder. "What do you mean, son?"

"According to this, Cameron Horvath is Lyle's real name. Or, if not the name he was given at birth, it was the one that Raines registered him under when he was only a few days old."

Jarod took the computer away from under his brother's hand and typed in the name, scanning the pages quickly.

"The name of Cameron Horvath," he proclaimed after several moments, "was first used after the birth of the man we know as Lyle in 1960. That means that, if the Yakuza or anyone else ever got too close to the Centre, Mr Parker could happily hand Lyle over to them and everything would be alright." Jarod paused briefly and then continued, his face devoid of expression.

"In fact, there was only one thing Mr Parker didn't know."

"And that was?"

Jarod typed in the details given to him by Broots and stared down at the frozen image of the woman that appeared before his eyes.

"The existence and location of Catherine Parker's DSA."

*~*

Jarod came back down the stairs after having helped Debbie back into bed. He sighed heavily and then walked through the doorway and into the living room where a group sat, waiting for him. He was about to sit down on the floor when Miss Parker got up and took his hand, placing him in the seat she had occupied and then seating herself on his lap, putting her hand into that of her father who sat beside them both.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He looked at her, noting that there were now unshed tears in her eyes.

"Very sure."

"Um, it's kind of long." Broots spoke up from his seat next to the DSA player and which Jarod had earlier plugged into the television so that it was more visible.

"How long?"

"I'm not sure, exactly, but it's a big file."

"Play it anyway," Miss Parker instructed from where she sat. "We've got as much time as we need."

As the screen flickered into life, Jarod could feel Parker holding her breath. He slipped an arm around her waist and she rested her head on his shoulder.

"My name is Catherine Elaine Parker. I make this DSA in order that, one day, after I am dead, it will be possible for people to learn about the real secrets of the Centre. The facility known as The Centre was founded by my husband, with the assistance of myself, in 1954, soon after our marriage. Within six months of its conception, the Centre extended itself to the creation of a fertility clinic. The two have, until this point in time, been wholly interconnected and inseparable. It is my suspicion that they will continue to remain so. It was, at the time, my own and my husband's intentions that the Centre should remain positive and altruistic in its aims and objectives. While this has always remained my objective, I understand that circumstances have changed my husband's viewpoints. You who watch this may know little or much of the Centre's current state. I can only hope that you have not been the victim of such potential transformations."

A collective shudder seemed to run through all of those present as they realized the honesty that was collected in those statements.

"During the first years of the Centre's operations, several people were employed who have greatly influenced the events which occurred there. The first is Doctor William Raines."

At this point the screen, which had been clear, became covered with static. Jarod glanced at both the woman he held and at their brother, who was sitting close to the television.

"Are one of you doing that, or is it Catherine herself?"

Ethan shrugged. "It's her."

Jarod nodded and concentrated on the screen once more.

"Dr Raines' influences on my husband cannot be seen as positive. His actions towards a number of the children within the Centre have shown the potential he has for cruelty. It is my hope that this recording will be found soon enough that he can be removed before the damage is made permanent."

Sydney looked from Angelo who sat at his feet to Ethan and sadly shook his head before glancing over to find Jarod watching him. The psychiatrist nodded and, words being unnecessary, the two continued to watch.

"The other who has a great influence within the Centre, this time on a far more positive note, is Doctor Sydney Remarque. His position, not only as the father of two of my children - "

There was a general gasp in the room as the words were spoken but a desire to hear more prevented an outburst of speech.

" - but also in the trust he has allowed myself and others to place in him have given him a far greater authority within the structure of the Centre than could be considered safe. If the great changes I believe will come arrive while he is employed within the Centre then I believe his life will be in as much danger as my own is at this moment."

Miss Parker felt her father's hand clutch hers convulsively for a moment and she turned to him with a gentle smile.

"His debt to myself is large and I know that he will do everything possible within himself to discharge it, if not to myself directly then by aiding the children I leave behind me in every possible way. I do not speak merely of my own children, but also the other children of the Centre who, entrapped within the walls of that place, can only hope to be rescued before they are destroyed completely."

"Pause it, Broots." Miss Parker's voice cut across the otherwise silent room and the technician leaped to do as she told him but the tape faded to black before he could do so. Ignoring this, the daughter faced her father, her expression curious.

"Why, Dad? Why did you owe her a debt?"

"Your mother, Maleah," Sydney sighed and clutched both of her hands within his own. "It was in August 1967 - the second in fact. Your uncle and I were driving home from the Centre and were arguing about a plan that Catherine herself had proposed that day - that we should work together in order to save the children, including yourself, who were trapped inside the Centre. The car spun out of control and crashed, leaving your uncle in a coma."

Sydney swallowed and Miss Parker would have spoken, but for the warning hand Jarod placed on her shoulder.

"Your mother was also leaving the Centre that night. She was several cars behind and saw the accident. Immediately, she came over and helped me to save Jacob's life." Sydney's eyes glistened with tears. "She took us both to a nearby hospital where she knew that we would be safe and then went home and told her husband. Between them, they managed to keep the accident quiet until I was able to move Jacob to a safe place where he could continue to be looked after. Raines came looking for him only a few hours after I got him safely away and I know that he would have killed him. That," he turned to his daughter and smiled, "was the debt that I owed your mother. Jacob was all the family I had left that I knew of and she managed to help me keep it for a little while longer."

"And what," Miss Parker spoke up after a pause of some minutes, "was the terrible family secret that she mentioned to you in 1970? The one that we heard her refer to on the DSA, the last time you saw her."

"Ah, yes." Sydney sat back slightly and smiled a little sadly. "To her it was such a terrible secret. I don't know that it would be considered as such now."

"What do you mean?"

"Your mother, Miss Parker, was a very strict Catholic, if you'll recall. Had she not met your father, I firmly believe that she may have taken the veil and become a nun. I should add," he said suddenly, "that she never told me what that secret was. I, of all people, was the one she could never mention it to."

"Why not?" His daughter's voice betrayed her eager curiosity.

"Because you and your twin brother were the subjects of it. As a Catholic, and being one myself, I understand, to a certain degree, her feelings, it must have been terrible for her to know that she had two - later three - children to men who were not her husband."

"But that wasn't her fault," Ethan burst out from the other side of the room.

"No," Sydney agreed. "But she would have felt the shame of it, all the same."

At this juncture, Major Charles caught the eyes of his daughter and Steven and gestured them away. After one final, cautious look, Broots followed. Only Jarod saw them leave and he smiled slightly as the technician glanced once more over his shoulder before shutting the door.

"Hi, baby."
The voice from the television made the room's remaining occupants jump and they turned as one to stare at the screen.

"I hope you one day have the chance to see this. I have the feeling that, perhaps, the man you think of as your father may try to destroy it. I hope that someone will find it for you so that you can hear what I want to tell you."

The face of Catherine Parker glanced down for a moment and Jarod, at least, saw the tears that dimmed her eyes.

"Your position at the Centre is as unique as you are. As you may have heard, it was my husband and myself who were responsible for the creation of the Centre but, a couple of years after you and your twin brother were born, several bad decisions on the part of your father left it in severe economic straits. This had two results. Firstly, a group that called itself 'The Triumvirate' was brought in to help try to resurrect it. They slowly took control, buying power where they couldn't intimidate it, until they had full control. The second result was less pleasant even that that."

Jarod nodded, believing that he could guess what was coming.

"The Centre had managed to learn, or assist in the creation and development, of a number of highly gifted children. You know several of these already - Jarod and your brother Timmy to name two. It was decided that these children could help the Centre recover what it had lost and so the transformation into the modern think-tank was begun. I, as you may imagine, objected strenuously to the use of the children, but I was ignored and informed that, the Triumvirate having bought up so much of the Centre, I had no more say."

A small smile hovered around the edge of Catherine Parker's mouth.

"I decided that I would regain my rights. Little by little, using the money that I earned and that my parents had given me, I began anonymously buying back those parts that I was able to. It cost me every cent I had, but it was worth it. It means that you, your father - should he still be living - and your brothers are the rightful heirs and owners of the Centre itself. If the Triumvirate ever learns of it, however, my life will be in even more danger than it is now, as will yours."

The figure on screen looked around the room that those watching the DSA had already identified to themselves as the living room in Raines' forest house.

"I have a feeling that they will manage to destroy me and that I will never have the chance to see you or either of your brothers grow up. I can only hope that one day your brothers and Ethan's half-brothers will be able to help you complete my plan."

The Music of the Heart
Part 14 - Esuberante


Jarod let himself out of the living room, feeling like an intruder as the discussion of the family that was not his got underway.

"Son?"

The Pretender smiled as his father appeared. "Hi, Dad. Where were you?"

"I was contemplating life."

"That old thing again, huh?" Jarod grinned.

"Your sister was shrieking about something before."

"Oh, really?"

"Uh huh. Something about the baby still not having a name yet."

"Oh, heck!" Jarod clapped one hand to his forehead. "I forget about it! I promised her the next time we were all together, we'd talk about it and pick one."

Major Charles laughed. "I told her the same thing. We'd better make sure we do it, then, or we could both be in trouble."

Jarod joined in his father's amusement and the two of them made their way outside to enjoy the last few hours of that day's sunlight together.

*~*

"You," Miss Parker looked at Jarod accusingly as he appeared in their bedroom doorway that night, "have a promise to keep."

"Not you, too!" Jarod sagged against the doorframe, one eye trained on her to see how she reacted.

"Jarod, what are you talking about?"

"First," he responded cautiously. "What are you talking about?"

"A certain promise you made," she lowered her voice as an additional reminder, "just before I astonished you with my genius."

"Ah, yes." He slowly smiled. "That promise."

"And, as I was a little busy that night - "

"Which you promised you wouldn't be," he interjected as he closed the door.

"I figured that tonight would be an appropriate time to atone for the high crime and misdemeanor of forgetting about me."

"Hmm," he sat down on the edge of the bed and glanced over his shoulder at her, the faintest hint of a smile on his face. "Well now, let me think..."

She placed one hand on his shoulder and pulled him backwards so that he was lying on the mattress in front of her. Hungrily, she brought her lips down to his and he responded in a similar manner, one hand on the back of her neck, holding her close.

"No thinking," she murmured as they broke apart briefly. "That's not allowed."

He began to slowly undo the buttons of her shirt. "Anything else not allowed?"

"Let me think about it."

"Well, don't think for too long," he smiled as he watched the material slip from her shoulders, "or I might lose interest."

"No," she shook her head as she divested him of his t-shirt and he crawled over the bed towards her, "that's something you would definitely not have the chance to do."

"Promise?"

The word was muffled as he brought his lips to her chest, beginning at the nape of her neck and planting a trail of gentle kisses down her front. She groaned softly and undid his jeans, watching as he slipped out of them and let them fall to the floor.

"Promise."

"Good." He expertly undid her bra hooks and delicately slipped it over her arms, allowing it to slide off the bed.

"You've been practicing."

He smiled at her comment. "Once learned, never forgotten." His gentle trail worked its way further down along her stomach.

"Never?" She slipped one finger under the elastic around his waist and gently tugged until they came off.

"Never." He brought his eyes level with hers. "Shut up and kiss me, Parker."

She did.

*~*

He opened his eyes and looked through the darkness. The moon had already departed from the night sky and the sun was close to rising. One arm lay around her shoulders and her head rested on his chest, her hair spread out over him like a protective blanket. Her hand rested gently on his chest, under her hair, and he smiled as the fingers gently moved, announcing to him that she, too, was still awake.

"Parker?"

"What is it, Jarod?"

The two of them whispered as though there was somebody else who could be disturbed by their discussion.

"Do you mind me still calling you that? It should really be Remarque - but..."

"But what?"

"It doesn't fit you, somehow."

"And 'Parker' does?"

"Out of habit, only," he gently moved his fingers on her bare arm, "yes."

"There's one name I like better."

"And what's that?"

"Ballinger."

For a moment, Jarod remained silent.

"Would you like to become one?"

She raised herself on one elbow and looked down at his face, only just visible in the darkness.

"Are you serious?"

He reached up and brushed a stray curl out of her eyes.

"Completely."

"And you're… asking me… to marry you?"

Jarod laughed softly. "You sound like Broots under moments of extreme duress."


She giggled quietly.

"Is my question so astonishing?"

"Well, I guess..."

"Maleah, I love you. I'm in love with you. What on earth could be more natural than to marry you? We could settle down, start a family..."

"…and live happily ever after?"

He slipped a hand around the back of her neck and drew her down to him again, kissing her. "If that's the way you want it, yes. Happily ever after."

*~*

Jarod slipped into the living room later that morning and perched himself on the armrest of the chair his sister was also occupying.

"What did I miss? Anything good?"

"You sound like I used to when I was late to class," she teased him. "No, we were just discussing the fact that most of the groups we highlighted as being most likely to ask for information have now done so." She paused for a moment. "So where were you, anyway?"

"The baby cried as I went past the door. I had to stop and check he was okay."

"'The baby', huh?"

"Okay, okay," Jarod threw up his hands in a gesture of defeat. "We'll find a name for him today. I promise."

"Son? Could you join us now or do you and Emily want to go and chat in some other room?"

"Gee," Jarod joked aloud. "Now I know how you must have felt Em." He winked at her and stood up. "I am instructed," he announced to the room in general, "to request, under threat of vengeance of a horrible order, that we find a name for the as-yet-nameless infant who is currently slumbering sweetly upstairs."

With this poetic beginning, he stepped out of the room and picked up a tray, onto which he had taped a sheet of paper.

"Do we have any suggestions for this poor, unnamed child?"

"You sound like an auctioneer," Broots grinned across the room at him.

Jarod raised an eyebrow. "One name, if you please, Mr Broots, rather than a whole sentence! The poor child! And such a sentence!"

He heard the snickering from behind him and glanced over his shoulder at his sister with a second wink.

"Robert."

Jarod dutifully wrote down the name.

"John."

"Thomas."

"Lucas."

"Steven."

Jarod glared across at her. "You might like the name, Maleah. I do myself. But have you forgotten that somebody - two somebodies, in fact - already laid claim to that name."

"All right, sorry." She hid her face in mock-embarrassment.

"Any other suggestions?"

"Peter."

"William."

Jarod shuddered and refused to write that one down. "On no account. There is no way that I would be willing for the poor child to be saddled with that name."

He glanced around again. "Is that all? Just five? Okay, I suppose it makes all our lives easier."

At the end of the vote, there was a tie between two names - John and Lucas.

"Why not use both?"

"John Lucas or Lucas John?"

"Either. Although I like the sound of the second one better."

"So do I."

"Me, too."

There was universal acclamation and Jarod triumphantly ripped the sheet off the tray and handed it to his sister with a mock bow.

"Happy now?"

"Very." She smiled up at him. "Now what?"

"Now - wait and see."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What do you have planned?"

"Now, now," he patted the top of her head. "Just be patient."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Big brothers can be so annoying," she muttered under her breath.

"Is there anything else, Jarod?"

The Pretender turned to find his father looking at him with an enquiring glance.

"Just one thing, Dad."

Jarod leaned the tray up against the wall and exchanged a small, secret smile with the woman who sat on the other side of the room.

"Sydney...I beg your pardon, Doctor Remarque."

The psychiatrist raised one eyebrow as he looked over at his former protégée and the rest of the room fell silent in astonishment.

"Jarod, what is it?"

"I have a request to make of you."

"Yes?" Sydney's eyes grew wide in bewilderment.

"I wish..." Jarod coughed in mock-nervousness and shuffled his feet to add to the effect. "I wish to ask..."

"Just get on with it."

Jarod made a concerted effort not to giggle as he heard the tone of her voice and avoided catching her eye. "Get on with it," he muttered to himself in a tone that was audible to everybody in the room. "Yes, I should." He straightened up. "Doctor Remarque, I wish to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage."

There was a long moment of silence, during which time Jarod was hard-pressed not to laugh out loud and knew, without looking, that Miss Parker was struggling just as much.

"Jarod, are you serious?"

"That's funny." The Pretender tried to look hurt. "That's what she said, too. Am I that hard to believe?"

"No, not at all," Sydney assured him hastily, seeing out of the corner of his eye as Major Charles finally realized how planned the whole situation had been and retreated to a corner of the room to enjoy the joke. "I just wanted to be sure."

"Well, don't leave me hanging, Syd," Jarod deliberately dropped into the most casual tone of which he was capable and, walking over, swept Miss Parker into his arms. "Can I marry her or not?"

"We-ell," Sydney took on a teasing tone in his turn. "I'll have to think about it."

"Any chance of you losing interest while we wait?" He heard her whisper in his ear and he grinned.

"After last night? Not a hope!" His voice was also almost inaudible and only he saw the smile that crept across her face at his response.

"Hmm," the sound from the psychiatrist got everybody's attention. "Well, after serious consideration, taking into account the terrible but malleable character of the young man involved," Sydney's eyes were alight with laughter but his face was perfectly serious, "and the firm, steady character of the young lady in this circumstance, I suppose I am willing for such an engagement to come into being." He stood up and hugged his daughter and future son-in-law. "As long as I can be the first to congratulate the pair of you."

*~*

"You lied," Emily stated flatly

Jarod stopped, his mouth slightly open but a light dancing in his eyes. "How?"

"You said..."

"I never said anything!" Jarod stepped over and put an arm around his sister's shoulders. "As I mentioned before, I just didn't deny it. You were the one who built mountains out of molehills, if that's the way the phrase goes."

"And wasn't I right?"

"Regardless of whether you were right or not, you said I lied and I dispute that most sincerely."

"Sibling rivalry?" Ethan stuck his head into the room at this point.

"Not exactly," Jarod waved his half-brother into the room. "Just a little… dispute about who has the better memory."

"In most cases," Ethan grinned at Emily, "I'd put my money on the female. In this circumstance, however..."

She picked up a cushion and, in much the same way as her future sister-in-law had done, threatened to hit her half-brother with it.

"Pax, pax!" Jarod's voice could be heard over the racket. "Enough, already." With a deft hand, he bereft his sister of her weapon and then gently pushed her into a chair facing him before also looking over to meet the eye of his brother.

"I have to know," he began, "do either of you mind at all? That I'm marrying her, I mean."

"Mind that my brother and sister are going to reduce the confusion?" Ethan snorted. "Hardly."

"You, Em?" Jarod's expression contained traces of concern, at the sound of which she threw her arms around his neck.

"I don't mind a bit."

*~*

"Very funny, son."

"I thought so, too." Jarod grinned up at his father from her spot on the porch, his arms wrapped around his fiancé as she sat on the step below him. "It took a lot of planning, though."

"I'll bet."

He sat down beside them and the three of them watched the sun slowly sink towards the west.

"We still have work to do."

"I know." Jarod sighed and an expression of sadness came into his eyes that not all of the coming banter would banish. "And none of it will be pleasant."

"Except for the part where you get to see the expression on Willie's face when he realizes you're his new boss."


Jarod looked down at her. "You didn't know?"

"Know what?"

"Willie was killed trying to protect Raines when one of the groups went after him."

"How did you know?"

"I read it in one of the emails. They sent a list of their victims, so that we would know who they were. I assumed you'd read it too."

Maleah shook her head. "I haven't really read any of them. I don't want to." She shuddered and Jarod held her more tightly.

"You don't have to unless you want to."

There was a pause.

"And Sam?"

"Sam is safe. He went to take care of Michelle and Nicholas for me." Sydney's voice stated, and Jarod narrowed his eyes at his future father-in-law.

"How did you arrange that one?"

"I helped."

Jarod looked in astonishment at his father. "I thought I was supposed to be the only one with any secrets in this place!"

The others laughed and then, as darkness began to fall, they got up and went inside together.

*~*

He sat up on the bed and glanced over his shoulder to where she was lying. Reaching over, he pulled on his t-shirt and jeans, slipping his feet into the shoes, and then stood up. The door made no sound as he eased it open and stepped out into the hallway, the carpet hiding the sound of his footsteps as he descended the staircase. The front door also made no sound as he eased it towards himself and, slipping his arms into the sleeves of his jacket, he wrapped it around his body as he stepped out into the pre-dawn darkness and hush. His eyes, although he tried to fight against it, were drawn to the spot where Lyle had forced him to kneel and where the man had been shot. Somebody, Jarod wasn't sure who but he suspected his father and Sydney, had removed the body and the Pretender had no idea of its current location.

"Why did you promise her?" The whisper was harsh and he fought against the tears that threatened in his eyes. "If you hadn't promised her, you could leave right now and never have to go back there."

He raised his right arm and was about to punch a nearby tree when a hand placed itself on top of his. He looked down and realized that her eyes were full of the tears he wouldn't allow himself to shed.

"Jarod, please. You don't mean that."

"I..."

She slipped close to him and he found himself wrapping both arms around her, holding her close to him.

"Aren't you happy now?"

"I want to be, Maleah, but I don't even know how!"

The first of a stream of tears began to work its way down his cheek.

"I'm a good teacher, Jarod. Let me show you."

"No!" Jarod stepped away from her and she, prompted by some instinct that she couldn't understand, remained where she was.

"Jarod..." Her voice broke and she stood silently. Neither noticed the third person until he was standing beside them, one hand on the shoulder of his daughter.

"All right, Maleah." His voice was audible only to her. "I'll take it from here."

She nodded and, with one tear-filled glance, began to walk back to the house where Major Charles was waiting for her in the doorway.

"I know you're scared, Jarod..."

"Don't!" The Pretender turned away. "I don't want to talk about it."

"So you'd break her heart instead."

"Look," Jarod rounded on the man who stood leaning against a tree with his arms folded, the first rays of the sun lighting his face, "I know she's your daughter..."

"It's not because she's my daughter, or not just because of that fact." Sydney corrected himself. "Even if she wasn't, I would still not want to see you doing what you plan to. Not only because of what it would do to her, but because of what it would do to you, too."

"And what," Jarod tried to make his voice sufficiently sarcastic to dissuade the other man from further discussion. "What would that be?"

"You say you've never been happy; that you don't know how it works," Sydney began. "That may be true. But you've also never been in love - although you may think you have - " Thus he forestalled the Pretender's comments. "And you don't know how that works either. I do. And I know what an impact it would have on you - on both of you."

The young man turned away, pressing his face to a tree and turning his eyes up to the brightening sky. His companion had no need to see his face. He knew that, silent as it was, the hard wooden bark was being soaked with salty droplets.

*~*

"He's scared," Charles told her.

She looked up at him, the tears not coming as often, but still slowly seeping out of her eyes. "Of what? There's nothing left at the Centre for him to be scared of. Is he," the thought came suddenly and painfully, "is he scared of me?"

"No, of course not." The father guided her to a chair and placed himself on the other side of the table. "And there is still something at the Centre for him to be afraid of - the past. He's terrified of showing how much it affects him, and especially of showing something like that to you. He'd rather run away, like he's done so often, than have you see that."

"But I'd help him!"

The voice was full of such tender love that the man smiled even as he shook his head. "Don't you see? That's exactly what he doesn't want. This is Jarod we're talking about here. He's strong-willed, determined and always able to deal with the situation himself." The father gave a smile as he outlined the strengths and weaknesses of his son. "At least, that's what he wants to be seen to be. For him to show anybody that he isn't in control of himself is the one thing he doesn't want to have to do."

"So," she sniffed and spoke softly, "what do we do now?"

"We wait," he responded with a kind smile, "until your father has finished talking with him."

*~*

"What do you want from me, Sydney? Blood?"

"No, Jarod. Just the truth."

"What right," he spat, "do you of all people have to ask me for the truth? You, along with every other person at the Centre, have done everything in your power to hide that from me for most of my life, until I finally found out about it for myself! You and Parker..."

He stopped, suddenly unable to reconcile the woman he loved with the one who had been pursuing him for so many years.

"That isn't the woman she is now, Jarod, you know that. You're the person mostly responsible for that change. The woman you're angry with now is Mr Parker's daughter, not mine."

"And who are you?"

They were the words he wished unspoken as soon as they came from his mouth, but he could do nothing other than watch their reaction.

"I'm the father of the woman you're in love with. I'm the man who also suffered at the hands of the people you hate. And I'm the person who only ever did what they thought was best for you at the time..."

The voice died away, but Jarod lacked the courage to look up into Sydney's face and see his expression. He never heard the man straighten up and turn away, walking softly over the damp grass towards the house. He only knew that, for a time, he was alone.

The Music of the Heart
Part 15 - Liberamento


Charles and his future daughter-in-law both looked up as Sydney walked into the kitchen. He nodded at his daughter.

“Go on, Maleah. Go to him.”

The fathers smiled at one another as she left the room as if wolves were snapping at her heels.

”Is he…?”

“Is she…?”

The relevant parents spoke the questions simultaneously and they both laughed quietly as the answer came in the same way.

“Yes.”

“So what now?” Charles asked.

Sydney looked up from the mug that Major Charles placed in front of him. “I think that, despite everything, we should go back to the Centre and soon. If we don’t, some of those people to whom we’ve been providing information could decide that they want the place for themselves.”

“I agree. But is everybody ready – and fit – to move?”

The psychiatrist nodded. “I suppose Jarod will want to give Debbie one last check-up…”

”And you?”

“What about me?” Sydney's voice was mystified.

“Your shoulder…”

Laughing, the man undid the first few buttons of his shirt and showed the rapidly healing wound. “I hardly even remember it happened anymore.”

“He did a good job.”

”Your son is a good man.”

“With a good teacher.”

“And a good father.”

There was silence before both stood up and pushed their chairs under the table, leaving the room together.

*~*

She stood a short distance away and, unable to speak, could only watch as the tears slid down the face that was turned up to the sky.

“I’m sorry, Maleah.”

“Don’t be sorry, Jarod.”

He shook his head and then came over to her. “What would you think of me if I was afraid?”

“That you were human,” she responded, lovingly placing one of his hands on her cheek and stroking the back of it. “We’re all afraid sometimes.”

He nodded slightly. “I was never brought up to be human.”

“No,” she agreed. “You were brought up to be whatever the simulations required you to be. But now,” she urged, “you have a chance to be anything you want to be, rather than what anybody else wants.”

“But I don’t know what I want!” With despair in his voice, he sank down on his knees in front of her.

“That’s what you’re really afraid of, isn’t it?” She looked down at him. “The Centre is just the focus for that fear. This is the same question you’ve been facing for four years, and you still don’t have an answer.”

“You sound like your father.”

“Am I right, Jarod?”

“Yes,” he admitted softly. “You are.” There was a pause until finally he looked up at her with tears glistening in his eyes. “What do you want me to be, Parker?”

“I want,” she lowered her face so that it was near his ear, “I want you to love and to be loved and, most of all, I want you to be happy.”

“Teach me.” His face and voice were pleading and there were repressed tears in his tones. She lowered herself so that she was kneeling, facing him. Gently she drew him closer and brought her mouth to his.

“Yes, Jarod.” She punctuated the words with gentle touches of her lips. “I’ll teach you. I’ll teach you and you can teach me. I’m not going to be ‘Parker’ any more.”

*~*

“Are we ready?”

Major Charles looked in the rear-vision mirror at the group in the car he was driving. His son had managed to procure two large cars and the group would drive back to Blue Cove together. There had been a marked lack of discussion that morning as people packed and prepared to leave the one place that now seemed like a relative haven of safety, despite the fact that the only threats came from their imaginations.

“Yes, Dad.” Emily smiled at him from the back seat, Steven on one side and baby Lucas in his capsule on the other. She caught the eye of her half-brother as he sat in front of her and he returned her smile. “We’re ready.”

Glancing back, she checked once more that Angelo was fastened into the rear seat and then again nodded at her father. Major Charles shifted the car into gear and began to slowly steer the car down the driveway. He glanced back, saw that the other vehicle was following and gave a satisfied nod before turning on the radio and concentrating on the road.

Sydney steered the car out of the garage and onto the driveway. He watched as the first vehicle passed them and then edged the car out onto the road.

“Are we going to block the driveway?”

Maleah spoke as she recalled her arrival at the house but Jarod shook his head. “No need. It was only to prevent us being found – and there’s nobody looking for us now.”

She smiled up at him and he slipped an arm around her shoulders, holding her close. After a moment, she leaned her head back against him and let her eyes watch the landscape pass without speaking before turning her gaze on Broots, who, with his daughter, sat in the front seat. It was only a few moments before she let her eyes slip shut. Jarod felt her relax against him and he moved slightly so that she would be more comfortable. Resting his head lightly on hers, he closed his own eyes.

*~*

“Are you sure you want to drive?”

“Positive.” Jarod kept his voice firm and picked up the keys that sat on the table of the diner between them. “And Maleah is going to give Dad a break.”

Sydney nodded. “As long as you’re sure…”

“I am.” The Pretender glanced around at the three tables that contained their group and saw that everybody was finished. “Are we ready?”

There was a chorus of positive answers and Major Charles picked up the baby capsule as the others surged out of the building. He grabbed the arm of his oldest son as the man walked past.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, Dad.” Jarod smiled. “I am now.”

*~*

The car stopped at the security entrance and Jarod swiped the pass that he had made for himself. The occupants waited nervously for a half-second until the security code that the pretender and Broots had pre-programmed into the machine while they were still at the house was finally recognized and the beam swung upwards. Jarod pulled the car into the place closest to the front door and then pulled on the brake. Over his shoulder, he watched as the other vehicle also successfully navigated the barrier and parked alongside. There was a long minute of silence while they all stared up at the building in front of them. It was Emily who first moved, opening her door and getting out of the car to stretch her legs. Her future sister-in-law did the same, followed rapidly by the others.

“Now what?”

“I guess,” Jarod pulled the gun out of the holster that he now wore, “we have to got through the building and make sure that it’s secure.” He walked over to a cupboard and pulled out a box. Opening it, he pulled out a number of radios and weapons that he offered to the group. Some took what he offered. Those that refused or were never given the option were to remain in the lobby while the others explored.

“One level at a time. Nobody goes further down until the current level is clear.”

He watched as the group nodded and they moved silently to the lifts. Holding back the feelings that he could sense inside, he walked ahead of them and began to lead the long search.

*~*

“One level left.”

“SL-27.”

“Correct.”

The group met in front of the elevator. Each level had only received a cursory check, but it was enough. The cleaners had done their work thoroughly after the various groups had been allowed to go through the building and now only the poor test subjects, with their carers, were left for the group to find. All of those gathered in both the lobby and the lower level had felt their hearts sinking as report after report of those found was reported.

*~*

“Nothing.”

Sydney's eyes widened. “How?”

“I don’t know.” Jarod shook his head and leaned back against the wall of the lobby, staring at the floor in disbelief. “But there’s nothing and nobody left there.”

“You mean they cleaned it out?” Emily asked.

“Not exactly.” He looked up at his sister. “The furnishings and everything are still there. It’s just that there are no people there. Whoever cleaned that up certainly did a good job.”

“And doesn’t that make our job easier?”

“I guess so, but it does mean that we have to trust the other corporations when they said they got rid of people. I have to confess,” Jarod sighed heavily. “I was hoping to find some proof they were gone, rather than just going on hearsay.”

“And why,” she walked over to him, “were you expecting them to be there?”

“Because that’s where the Yakuza, to name one, said they killed them. Obviously their cleaners,” he met his fiancé’s eye, “are as good as the ones that the Centre employed.”

There was a short pause.

“So now what?”

“Now we need to start planning ahead, I guess.”

*~*

“I’m going, Jarod. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Going home, Broots?”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “I’m looking forward to sleeping in my own bed again.”

Jarod nodded in sympathy. “Bring Debbie in tomorrow and I’ll do those checks to make sure she’s okay.”

“Can do.” The technician disappeared from the doorway and Jarod turned back to his struggle with the files in front of him. For a moment he glanced at his watch and shook his head in frustration. It was already ten o’clock and she was still there. He desperately wanted her to go home so that he could investigate, alone, something that he had noticed earlier that day.

“Are you coming?”

Finally. He looked up. “Are we the last?”

“Yes. So, are you?”

”Soon, Maleah. There are still a few things I want to check out.”

“Don’t be too long,” she smiled, “or I’ll come and find you.”

“I consider myself well warned.”

Jarod smiled and watched as she left. Quickly turning in his seat, he tapped into the security system and watched as she walked out to the car she had brought over from her house earlier that day. He waited until the security barrier was down and then he got up from his chair, grabbing a bag from beside his desk, and left his office.

He walked rapidly to the elevator and waited impatiently inside while it brought him down to SL-24. This was the level where they had found the worst cases. He and Sydney, after serious discussion, had decided that they would treat these themselves rather than bringing in other people, as they planned to do for several other former projects.

“Come on, come on.”

Jarod murmured the words and was out of the doors before they were fully open, striding rapidly down the hallway to the number he had memorized. Unlocking the door, he went in and found himself on platform that overlooked the room and was protected by one-way glass. For several moments, through the dim light, his eyes focused on the figure that lay, sleeping, on the bed in one of the corners. Jarod opened the computer he had brought down with him and typed in the code that was written on the outer door. Immediately the screen was filled with data but it was the photo that caught his eye immediately. He had the same photo and he had seen an identical copy on his sister’s desk when she was working for the newspaper in Philadelphia.

“So you are still alive.” Jarod's eyes were suddenly wet with tears. “Why didn’t I ever thing you might be here?”

He looked down at the date on the file. The date and location told him what he needed to know and he smiled sadly. She had been captured just after they had seen each other. His eyes ran over the information that he found and tear slipped from his face onto the screen and he wiped it away hurriedly.

“You suffered so much and I didn’t help you.” A sad smile lit his face. “But you never let them win.”

Although they had disguised the treatments, Jarod had read enough that day to be able to recognize what they had done and he ran his eye down the list.

Hypnotherapy – failed

Electro-shock-therapy – failed

Brainwashing – failed

Drug treatments – failed

“Not a good patient, were you, Mom?” His lips twisted and he looked away.

He was about to put one hand on the door when he paused. He didn’t know how much she would remember, if anything. They had, after all, managed to convince him that either his clone or his father had been killed at the airstrip. In four years, what had they managed to persuade her was the truth? A hand on his sleeve made him jump and he stared down, his heart thumping rapidly.

“Angelo!”

“Mom… sad.”

“Yes, Angelo,” he looked back at her, “I bet she is.”

“Remember.”

“Does she?” Jarod grabbed the empath’s hand. “How much does she remember, Angelo?”

“Everything… not admit… but remember.”

Jarod stared down at him for a few seconds, his face blank and his mind working quickly. Should he try? Was it safe?”

“Safe.” Angelo smiled and nodded.

Making up his mind, Jarod picked up the card and swiped it through the lock. The window showed that the lights inside were brightened by the code and, as he stepped inside, the room reminded him so much of his own that he shivered. It took a moment but he finally focused through his tears on the figure that now sat up on the bed.

“What do you want?” The woman, her hair wild and the familiar red streaked with gray, sat up and pulled a blanket towards her, refusing to look at the newcomer.

”To talk.” Jarod half-smiled, remembering when his fiancé had used to similar words to his clone.

“W… who are you?”

He approached the bed and knelt in front of it. “Don’t you remember me?”

She turned her head sharply at the sound of his voice and he could feel the same eyes looking at him that he remembered from their one meeting.

“J… Jarod?”

“Hi, Mom.” He smiled and moved slightly closer to the bed. It was with a feeling of consternation that he saw her pull back before understanding sank in. “They told you I was dead, didn’t they?”

“You… and your father… and sister…”

“No, Mom.” He shook his head slowly and sat down on the bed next to her. “They lied. Again. We’re all very much alive. I promise you.”

He watched as tears appeared in her eyes and began to trickle down the cheeks that were thinner than he had remembered. Reaching over, he took one of her hands in his and gently stroked the back of it with his thumb. Taking out a handkerchief from his pocket, he dried the tears on her cheeks and then pressed the soft material into her other hand.

“Do you believe me, Mom?”

“I want to, Jarod. But I can’t help wondering if this isn’t just another dream…”

For several moments, he let her weep, seeing the relief in her face when she wasn’t punished for it, feeling his heart ache at the sight of bruises under her skin. Finally she looked up at him.

“What are you doing here?”

“This…the Centre…it’s ours now.” He hugged her. “We beat them Mom. They’re all gone now. It’s just us.”

“Us?”

He nodded. “Come on.” He stood up and held out one hand, waiting for her to respond. “Let’s get you out of here.”

“I can’t, Jarod.”

“What do you mean?” He sat down beside her again.

“They gave me something… every day… so I wouldn’t have the strength to walk around… so that I wouldn’t escape.”

“Like mother, like son.” Jarod glanced over to the door and nodded. Angelo opened it a small amount and peeped in.


”Do you know him, Mom?”

The woman shook her head and Jarod smiled gently and waved the empath inside. “This is Angelo. He’s one of my best friends.”

Jarod stopped himself from mentioning the rest of the connection, not wanting her to have to deal with too much at once. He was about to continued speaking when the mobile phone he wore on his belt rang. Standing up, he seized and activated it, about to speak when a familiar voice jumped in.

“Where are you, Jarod? I’ve been waiting for ages.”

He glanced down at his watch, shocked to discover that it was already close to midnight. “Maleah, I’ve found some work that could keep me here for a while. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Jarod, you promised…”

”This is one time,” he spoke firmly, “when I’m going to break that promise.”

“If it’s important, I could send Sydney down.”

“Is he there? I thought he was going home.”

“He did.” She paused. “They shot the house to pieces when they didn’t find him. I said he could stay here.”

“If he’s awake,” Jarod spoke decisively, “send him over. But not you, Maleah. I’ll show later.”

“Okay, okay.” She disconnected the call and he turned back to his mother.

“Maleah,” she mused. “Catherine Parker always said that she would call her daughter by that name. “

“She did,” Jarod stated softly. “And Angelo is her twin brother.”

He watched as a tear slid down her mother’s cheek.

“Catherine always wanted children – as badly as I did.”

“And you have them.” He put his arms around her and rocked her gently as tears slid down his face and hers. “You can have your children with you again, Mom.”

After some twenty minutes Jarod looked up to find Angelo once more standing in the doorway. The empath had left the room soon after Jarod had finished talking to his fiancé on the phone and the Pretender now knew that Sydney was now standing behind the one-way mirror, watching the scene unfold before him.

Jarod waved in that direction and the psychiatrist appeared in the doorway.

“Mom? This is Sydney.”

The woman looked up at the figure in the doorway and recognition flooded her face. “You…you were the one…”

“Yes.” Jarod smiled. “He was the one who let us get away that day.”

“Mrs Ballinger.” Sydney walked further into the room and the woman’s face lit up at the use of the name. “I’m sorry I didn’t know you were here before. Had I been away of it, I would have done everything possible…”

Jarod felt his mother sway slightly in his arms and he looked down at her in some concern. She was pale and her eyes were closed. He looked back up at Sydney.

“Wheelchair.” The word was mouthed but Sydney nodded and left the room at once.

“Mom? Hey, Mom.”

She slowly opened her eyes and looked at up him.

“I think it’s time we got you out of this room.”

“Where…?”

“I want to take you into the infirmary for now.”

She nodded and closed her eyes again. Sydney pushed the chair into the room and Jarod picked up his mother and gently put her into it. His hand was tightly entwined in hers as Sydney pushed the chair down the hallway to the elevator.

*~*

“How’s she doing?”

Sydney looked up and smiled as Jarod stepped out of the room. “She’s doing well, Jarod. Despite all of the things that they’ve tried on her, she’s still pretty much fine. It must be genetic.”

“I said I’d stay with her tonight.” Jarod leaned against the door with a sigh. “I don’t think she can really believe it.”

”Can you?”

The Pretender smiled. “Not really. And Dad won’t be able to either.”

“When are you going to tell him?”

“Tomorrow.” The son smiled again. “I thought a night’s sleep might help first. And there was also the fact that I didn’t know what condition she’d be in.”

“You found her this afternoon?”

“Not exactly. I found proof of the results of tests on her and thought it might lead to something.” He placed both hands behind his neck and rubbed gently. “I don’t know why I never thought she wouldn’t be there.”

Sydney moved over and put one hand on his shoulder.

“You had no reason to think that they would have found her. Why would you go looking?”

“Looking for what?”

The voice from the doorway made both occupants turn around.

“Maleah? I thought I said…”

She came over and slipped her arms around his waist.

“Angelo called me. He said that you might like some company.”

He leaned down and kissed her gently before turning away. She followed his eye to where the woman lay sleeping on the bed.

“Who…?”

A faint smile appeared at the corners of Jarod's mouth. “My mother.”

“Really?” She stared at him for a moment. “Jarod, that’s wonderful!”

“Yes,” he smiled down at her. “I think so too.”

He lowered his mouth to hers again and then looked up, glancing at the clock on the wall before looking back at her. “I’m going to stay here – I promised I would, but I think you should go home. You and your Dad.”

“Sure?”

“Very.” He kissed her again before letting her go. “If you don’t get some sleep, neither of you will be able to do any work tomorrow.”

“I get the feeling,” Maleah smiled at her father, “that he would be most believable as a school teacher.”

The sound of Jarod's laughter followed them as they left the infirmary and headed for their cars.

The Music of the Heart
Part 16 - Festivo


Margaret shifted slightly on the bed, expecting to open her eyes to the dully-lit ceiling that she usually saw. Memory failed briefly as she stared at the curtains in confusion.

"Good morning."

The voice from beside the bed startled her also, but, as she recognized the tone, events of the previous night came back and she could feel the tears in her eyes.

"Hello, Jarod."

He came and sat next to her on the bed, holding her hands in both of his.

"How did you sleep?"

"Well." She released one hand and gently raised it to his face, stroking softly, her face wearing an expression of amazement. "Better than I have for a long time."

"Good." He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "Do you want something to eat?"

"What time is it?"

"Just after nine." He laughed softly. "I was beginning to wonder if you were going to sleep for the whole day."

"Breakfast would be good, as long as..."

"Real food, Mom, I promise. I'm cooking."

"You?" She raised her eyebrows at him. "You, cook?"

"I cook well." He stood up in mock-indignation.

"He does." A female figure came through the curtain from the right and confirmed this fact. "He cooks very well."

Margaret turned to face the newcomer. Her eyes took in every detail of the face before her and she struggled to speak. Finally one word made itself heard.

"Catherine?"

"No, Mrs Ballinger." Jarod's fiancé came forward and stood at the end of the bed, smiling slightly. "I'm Catherine's daughter. My name is..."

"Maleah."

"How did you know?"

Jarod laughed. "You called at an… inconvenient moment last night. I wasn't going to tell her about you yet, but you forced my hand. Again."

Maleah stared at him, her hands on her hips. "And when did I do it last time?"

"Would you like me to list the occasions?"

"That many, huh?"

"Well, let's just say that Mr Lyle would have had a great deal of difficulty in being able to count all of them on his fingers." He grinned. "Mom, I'm going to leave you with Maleah and see about getting you… and me… something to eat. She's quite capable - I hope."

He winked at his fiancé and disappeared from the room. She laughed and turned to the figure in bed.

"If you'd like to get up and perhaps have a shower, we have the facilities just around the corner."

"A shower..." The woman's voice failed. "Do you know how long...?"

"I can guess." Sydney's daughter sat in the chair beside the bed. "Mrs Ballinger, so you know, I've worked here for a long time. I was employed, among other things, as a cleaner at the Centre. Then, after your son escaped, my… the man I believed was my father put me on to the pursuit of your son. I can understand," she swallowed painfully, "if you don't want to see me again. It must be difficult..."

"Maleah, you're still the daughter of the woman who was my friend. And, judging from appearances," she gave a smile that was similar to Jarod's, "you're also very special to my son. On those grounds alone, I would still want to get to know you better, no matter what else you might have done."

"Thank you." The younger woman's eyes glistened. "Thank you for trusting me."

*~*

Jarod stepped away from the doorway, nodding definitively. As he walked down the hallway to the small kitchenette that the infirmary boasted, he felt a hand on his arm and stopped.

"How are they getting on?"

"Does the phrase 'a house on fire' mean anything to you?"

Sydney smiled. "Good. I'm glad to hear it." He narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing now?"

"Making breakfast - and no comments on my abilities, if you please. I know I burned the toast last time, but that was a one time thing."

"Still," the psychiatrist laughed, "perhaps I should help, just in case."

*~*

"And what's this?"

Showered and dressed in clothes that Maleah had found and which, while they were not the most attractive, were certainly an improvement on what she had been wearing, Margaret sat in a chair beside the bed. She peered at a square that sat steaming on the plate in front of her.

"One of Jarod's favorite – discoveries," Maleah responded.

Mrs Ballinger cautiously broke off one corner and slipped it into her mouth. After several seconds, her eyes brightened and her son laughed as he ate his own pop tart in several large bites.

"Looks like I have competition now."

"Or it could just be a family thing."

Jarod pulled her down into his lap. "I'll get you eating those things if it's the last thing I do."

"If I ever eat one, it will be the last thing you do."

"I'll die happy."

"We'll see. I'm not sure torture at my hands could make anybody happy."

"Everything you do makes me happy."

She laughed and pushed him away as she got up. "Behave yourself."

"Yes, ma'am." Jarod emptied his glass of chocolate milk in two large gulps and then stood up. "Mom, I would love to spend more time with you but right now I have a small girl to check up on. I would suggest the rest of the morning doing absolutely nothing in the most luxurious surrounding that Sydney can provide and then a family reunion this afternoon. How does that sound?"

She smiled at him, her eyes sparkling as he bent down to kiss her cheek. "It sounds absolutely wonderful, Jarod."

*~*

"Okay, Debbie, you can get up now."

"Jarod, is this where you've been hiding yourself all morning?"

The Pretender looked up to see his father standing in the doorway. "Hi, Dad. I had a project to keep an eye on and came here straight after. I was planning on calling you as soon as I was done," he scribbled down the last few figures, "which I now am. Debbie, you run and get dressed again. And would you ask your father if I can see him for a moment?"

The girl scrambled down off the table and left the room. Jarod turned to his father with a smile.

"Can you, Ethan, Steven and Emily come to my office at two this afternoon? We need to talk."

"Sure." Major Charles nodded. "Anything we need to bring?"

"Nothing. It'll just be an informal… family chat." Jarod hid the smile that curled his lips by bending down to pick up the folder. When he looked up, his father had left the office and Broots was entering it.

"Grab a seat."

He sat down on one side of the desk and waited until the technician was sitting opposite him before turning the folder around so that the other man could see it. "I have to wait until some of the test results come through, but as far as I can see, we've got nothing more to worry about..."

*~*

Maleah walked into the room, a dark blue dress draped over one arm, which she spread out onto the bed.

"What did you...?"

The younger woman smiled. "I took note of your size this morning, if you'll excuse the impunity, and, as I thought you might want to dress up a little for the occasion, I bought this a little later."

There was a feminine gleam of pleasure in the mother's eye at the thought of dressing up. She seized the dress gleefully and, with a little assistance from her capable nurse, donned the garment.

"Hmm, still lacking something."

"How about this?" Jarod walked into the room and slipped a fine pearl necklace around his mother's throat, gently doing it up at the back. It suited the low-cut collar perfectly and he smiled in satisfaction.

"Where on earth...?"

"I have my spies." The Pretender grinned at his fiancé. "Your father followed you to the shop this morning."

"Hmm," Sydney's daughter narrowed her eyes, "I'll have to have words with him about that."

"Oh, I wouldn't." Jarod laughed. "I told him to."

"Then I'll have to have words with you."

"If that makes you happy..."

"Always."

Jarod laughed and looked at his mother. "Do you feel strong enough to walk there or do you...?"

"Walk," Margaret stated firmly. "I'm sure I can manage."

"I'm sure you can, too." Jarod commented. "But I want you to tell me..."

"Son." She eyed him firmly. "Are you trying to tell me what to do?"

"No!" He threw up his hands in denial. "I just wanted to make sure..."

"I don't want your father to see me like that."

Jarod's face became serious. "I understand." He leaned down and kissed her as he had that morning. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too, Jarod."

*~*

"Where on earth is he?" Emily paced the length of the office. "I must say I think it’s rather rude to call a meeting and not even show up."

"Jarod said to tell you," Maleah stuck her head into the office at this point. "That he’ll be here within ten minutes."

"Is everything okay?"

"Fine, fine. He just had some last-minute things to take care of."

Jarod heard the last few words as he and his mother stepped out of the elevator and he offered his elbow to her as they made their way down the hall. With a smile, she slipped her arm around his.

"Ready?" His whisper reached her ears and she turned her face to his.

"Quite ready."

*~*

"Did I," Jarod began cheerfully as he walked in, "hear somebody bemoaning my absence? How nice to know that I'm missed."

His father was about to reply when he saw the woman who stood inside the door, smiling tenderly at the occupants.

"Margaret?"

"Hello, Charles."

He hesitated for a second before leaping up from his chair and rushing towards her.

Ethan, seeing that his sister was speechless, turned to his brother. "What on earth...?"

"You mean she didn't tell you?" Jarod grinned as he sat in his chair behind the desk. "How very lax of her."

"Well, strictly speaking, she's not my family, so maybe that's why..."

Jarod nodded once at his brother and then looked across at his sister. "Em? You okay?"

"What… how did you…?"

"I found her." Jarod's voice was soft, somewhat tentative. "She was down in SL-24."

"You mean… she was a prisoner?"

His nod was slow and reluctant. "I'm afraid so. She's been here in the Centre for several years. But," he spoke firmly, "I don't think she's been affected by anything they've done to her. As far as I've been able to tell, she's still the same person that she ever was."

Emily was about to speak again when she realized that her father had seated Margaret in the chair beside their daughter and Jarod watched with tears in his eyes as they tried to make up for the missing time, before turning to his clone, who had remained speechless.

"Steve? Everything alright?"

The boy nodded, his eyes still fixed on the reunion as he sat at his brother's elbow. Finally he leaned forward and whispered in Jarod's ear.

"Who is that?"

"That's my… our mother. I know it's not biological, but she can be your mother like he," Jarod indicated his father, "is your dad."

"And Lucas's too?"

His brother nodded smilingly. "Yes, Lucas's too."

*~*

"Maleah, are you all right?"

She looked up and smiled at her father in the doorway. "I'm fine. I was just…thinking."

"About anything in particular or just musing on life?"

"Wondering what's going to happen now."

"Ah," Sydney smiled. "Trying to arrange the future to your satisfaction."

"And Jarod's."

"Of course." The psychiatrist sat down opposite his daughter. "I would have thought that that went without saying."

"Sydney..." she hesitated. "Dad… you don't mind, do you?"

"Mind?" He stared at her in confusion. "Why on earth should I mind?"

"I… don't know. I just thought you might."

He got up and came around the desk, leaning against it, and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I will not be happier than on the day I give you to him as his wife. And that's a solemn promise."

*~*
"Son, how long have you been planning that?"

"Only since last night, when I found her." Jarod grinned up at his father from his desk.

"And what… did they do to her?" Major Charles' voice was hesitant as he walked in and sat opposite the Pretender. In answer, Jarod pulled the folder out of the top drawer of his desk and slid it across so that the older man could read it.

"Fortunately, none of it seems to have had any long-term effects, although I'm probably not the one to be judging what effect it's had on her personality. Still, all of her results are normal."

"Did you...?"

Jarod shook his head. "Sydney."

"Good." Major Charles sighed and then looked up. "It's not that… I didn't mean to suggest that you weren't capable of doing everything properly. It's just - well, you might see things..."

"Dad, I understand. And that's precisely why I asked Sydney to do it."

"Great minds..."

"…are inherited." Jarod smiled across the table at his father. "So we're a very lucky family."

*~*

Jarod sat down at the piano and let his fingers feel the keys for a few moments. It was Saturday evening following the discovery of his mother and he had come home early from the Centre to give himself some time alone. He was still trying to get used to the pressure of a regular job and constant contact with other people, but it was slowly becoming more normal. He sighed as he looked around the room, admiring the way that the light shone through the stained glass windows onto the smoothly painted walls. Then, turning back, he closed his eyes and allowed his fingers to begin their light dance over the keyboard.

"I thought you must have given up."

He jumped several inches into the air at the sound of her voice and spun around to see her standing in the doorway, a number of bags clutched in her arms.

"I can," he remarked with acidity in his tones, "conceive of better methods of dying than collapsing of shock at the piano."

"Oh, but just think," she teased him as she carried the bags into the kitchen and he followed. "You would have the divine last sight of me standing and watching you from the doorway."

He rolled his eyes and was about to comment, but she stood firmly in front of him, her arms blocking him into a corner made by the benches.

"Wouldn't that be divine?"

"Hmm, that point requires consideration."

"Consideration is the same as thinking, and that was forbidden some time ago."

"Oh yes," he remarked calmly. "So it was." He reached out and pulled her towards him. "And I think I can even remember the exact circumstances."

"Planning to reproduce them?"

"Only if you can't think of a good reason for us not to."

He lowered his mouth to hers and she slipped both hands around the back of his neck. He loosed the shirt from around her waist and was about slip one arm up inside it when the doorbell rang.

"Darn." The word was a whisper from both mouths simultaneously.

"Tonight, Maleah."

"Promise?"

"Unless something comes up..."

She playfully slapped him on the arm as she tucked her shirt back in. "Is there anything more important than me?"

"Not right now. But you never know..."

*~*

"I hate door-to-door-salesmen."

Jarod grinned up at her from the sofa on which he was sitting with his sister and his fiancé's father.

"Oh, they aren't all bad."

"And how would you know?"

He raised an eyebrow at her and his sister giggled.

"Experience is a wonderful teacher," Jarod mused philosophically and ducked as she swung a cushion in his direction.

"Shut up, genius."

"Okay, beautiful."

She gaped at him for a moment and Sydney laughed. "Ah, the unanswerable reply. Well done, Jarod."

"Dad!" Maleah burst out.

Sydney smiled. "Well?"

"You're supposed to be on my side, not his."

"According to whose rules?" Sydney looked over to Emily with a smile. "What would you say, Miss Ballinger?"

"I would say," Emily smiled. "That you have the right to support whomever you choose."

*~*

"Are your parents happy?"

"Ecstatically!" Jarod put his book down on the bed and smiled at her as she came into the room. "I think one of my mother's favorite things is that Emily, Steven and Lucas are in rooms just down the hall from hers." He chuckled. "If she didn't know it was futile, she probably would have tried to persuade me to stay there as well."

"And are you sure it was futile?"

"Well, let's just say that I made an assumption…oops, can't do that, can I?" He smiled up at her, attempting to look innocent.

She slowly undid the buttons of her silk bathrobe and allowed it to slip to the floor. "Well?"

"You came prepared."

She smiled and then crawled up the bed towards him. He slipped the bookmark between the pages and placed it on the table beside the bed, turning back to her as she slipped into the bed beside him.

*~*

"Maleah?"

"Umm?"

He looked down and saw that she was almost asleep. "Never mind," he whispered. "I'll ask you in the morning. Sleep well." He kissed her gently on the top of her head and felt her sigh once before she relaxed fully. With his free hand, he picked up the book he'd been reading and opened it. It was trickier to read with one hand but, like other difficult things, became easier with practice. It was several hours later when he felt her move against him and glanced down to see that she was looking up at him.

"Well, that's different."

"What is?"

"Most men… never mind."

He brought his lips down to her ear. "I'm not most men, remember?"

"Oh yes," she remarked casually, trying to hide the fact that her body had immediately responded to the warmth of his breath. "Neither you are."

"What's this, Maleah?" He ran his fingernails down her upper arm and laughed softly as the skin rose at his touch. "Are you trying to hide something from me?"

"Me?" She looked up at him, trying to maintain an innocent expression. "As if I would."

He slid down slightly in the bed, allowing the book to fall to the floor. "Good." His lips were almost touching hers. "I would hate to think..." He closed the gap between them and she felt herself almost melting at his touch.

"Jarod..."

"Hmm?"

"We're not going to be able to do any work tomorrow..."

"Tomorrow," he pulled back and looked down at her, "is Sunday and, according to my father, nobody in his or her right mind works on a Sunday. So I thought..."

"Sounds perfect."

He leaned in closer and kissed her softly. "I thought so too."

The Music of the Heart
Part 17 - Con Spirito


Jarod kicked the door shut behind him and dropped the suitcases on the floor with a groan. "I knew I should have done a pretend as a body-builder." He looked up at his wife with a gleam in his eye. "It would have been the least preparation I needed to carry your bags."

"Aw!" She looked up at him from the top of the stairs, a smile on her face. "Poor baby! How terrible for you? Should I call Sam and ask him to carry them upstairs for you?"

He ran up the stairs and grabbed her from behind. "Not even Sam would be able to pick up those things. What did you pack, bricks?"

She shook her head. "Just clothes."

"I don't know how the Centre has money left after financing your wardrobe."

"Great," she rolled her eyes. "We've been home from the Bahamas for less than an hour and you're complaining already."

"Can I claim it on jet-lag?"

"Nope." She wriggled around so that she was facing him. "You slept for nearly the entire flight."

"In the very haven of comfort."

"On me."

"That's what I said." He leaned down and kissed her gently. "The very haven of comfort."

*~*

The new Mrs Ballinger walked in through the doors of her office to find her twin brother spinning happily in her desk chair.

"Angelo!"

"Married."

"Yes, Angelo." She came over to her chair and dropped her bag on the desk before bending down and hugging him. "And very happy."

"And Jarod happy."

"Yes, Angelo. He's happy too."

"And baby."

Maleah Ballinger laughed. "No, Angelo. No babies yet."

The savant shook his head and made her chair spin again. "Baby very happy."

"Sweetheart, do you know where I can find...?" Jarod walked into the office with a folder in his hand.

"Jarod, listen to this." Maleah turned back. "Tell him, Angelo. Say it again."

Instead of speaking, Angelo reached out and took one of each of Jarod and his wife's hands in his own and placed them on her stomach.

"It's not… Is it?" He raised an eyebrow as he looked up at her.

"Well, it certainly couldn't be for lack of trying." She smiled. "If he's right..."

"Do you have any reason to doubt it?" He leaned against the edge of the desk and looked at her. Angelo slipped to the door and, with one last glance, left the office. "Maleah, who is Louise Catherine?"

"What?" She sat down slowly in the chair and looked up at him. "Jarod, what are you talking about?"

"I was awake last night," he smiled. "And you were talking in your sleep. They were the only two words that I could understand. Who is she?"

*~*

"Hi baby."

Jarod looked down as his wife muttered the words. Shutting the book, he watched her for a moment before realizing that she was asleep enough for him to try an idea he had thought of that day.

"What's she like, Maleah? Tell me."

His voice was muted, calculated to sooth rather than startle slumber. He saw a brief smile appear on the sleeping woman's face.

"She's got lovely dark hair, like yours. And her eyes - they're like mine. She's tall and slim. And she's clever too."

The smile broadened slightly as Maleah rolled over onto her side with a sigh, her mouth almost touching Jarod's elbow. He gingerly lay down in bed and slipped an arm around her.

"She's going to be perfect, Jarod."

"She's our daughter, Maleah." He whispered the words softly and lovingly into her ear as she snuggled closer to him. "Of course she's going to be perfect."

*~*

"There she is, sweetheart." He used his free hand to hold hers as he guided the ultrasound over her stomach.

"Oh, Jarod." The mother fixed her eyes on the small movement on the screen that denoted a heartbeat. "How long?"

"At best estimate," he looked down at the paper on which he'd made several notes as a result of the tests he'd performed. "You're only seven weeks in. Your brother let us in on the secret a long time before we would probably have noticed, unless, of course, your inner sense told us sooner."

"Why," his wife's brow furrowed briefly, "do you think it doesn't seem to work properly?"

"Probably because you haven't learnt how to control it." Jarod smiled. "We should ask Ethan if he knows anything about it. He could have seen what you have in your dreams."

"And when are we going to tell the others?"

"I suggest we wait a little." Jarod's face became serious. "For the next few weeks you're still in the period of highest risk of losing it - although," he spoke, responding to the expression on her face, "I don't think you will. If you had been going to, I don't somehow think you'd know as much about it as you do." He watched as a tear appeared in her eye and began to make its way down her cheek. With a tender hand, he brushed it away. "If we can do anything to keep this baby," he promised softly, "we will."

*~*

Maleah Ballinger sat in front of her computer and stared blankly at the screen in front of her, one hand resting gently on her stomach. The security guard, several floors away, was alarmed to notice that the screen on which she could be seen appeared to be covered in static and, turning to alert somebody to the fact, he saw Ethan standing in the doorway.

"Mr Ballinger, sir. I think this..."

"Don't worry about it." Ethan's voice was firm and allowed no argument. "It will pass. Just ignore it."

"Are you...?"

"Ignore it." Ethan spoke firmly as he turned and left the room.

*~*

"And how is Louse Catherine?"

Jarod, leaning over Maleah's desk to check some papers, looked up in astonishment, as did his wife.

"Ethan, what...?"

"Oh, don't try to deny it." He shut the door and sat down on a chair opposite the desk. "She told me about it last night."

"I wish she'd tell me about it," Maleah grumbled. "All I get are hints. Even Jarod gets more than I do, just by listening to me talk when I'm asleep."

"I told you, sweetheart," Jarod placed both hands on the back of her neck and rubbed gently. "Just relax and it will work better."

"Dad told me the same thing," she retorted. "His advice hasn't helped either."

"Ethan," Jarod looked across at his brother. "How do you do it? How do you hear the voices and see things?"

"I don't know." Ethan looked frustrated. "I've lived with them for so long and I don't have any idea how it works. I just know that it does."

Maleah looked up at Jarod to find him staring blankly into space. "What?" She twisted around under his hands. "What are you thinking about?"

"I was wondering," Jarod's voice was slightly dreamy, "if our mothers ever talked about it..."

*~*

"Mom!"

Jarod poked his head in at the kitchen door and looked around to find his mother sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper. She looked up and jumped to her feet as her son walked in through the door.

"Jarod! Maleah! How wonderful to see you both. I thought," she added teasingly as they all walked through the kitchen and into the living room, "that you would have been too busy at the Centre to bother about me."

"Never!" Jarod kissed her on the cheek. "But we wanted to talk to you."

"Really?" She smiled as she received a similar gesture from her daughter-in-law.

"Yes, Mrs Ballinger."

"Now, Maleah," Margaret began. "Do you know just how confusing that is? It would be far easier if we use first names. After all," she teased in a manner so similar to her son that the younger woman couldn't help laughing. "I have every intention of being around for some time and so, I hope, do you."

"Absolutely." Maleah nodded as she continued to laugh.

"So what was it you wanted to ask?"

"Margaret, what can you tell me about - my mother?"

*~*

"Ethan, where were you? I've been looking for you for hours."

"With this place being the size it is," the young man smiled up at his father, "you could have been looking for a lot longer."

"Very funny, son." Major Charles walked into the office and sat down. "Do you know where your brother is?"

"Which one?"

"The one who isn't in school or in bed right now."

"As far as I know, Jarod and his wife went to visit your wife."

Major Charles nodded thoughtfully. "Any idea why?"

Ethan hid a smile. "None that I can tell you. Sorry."

"Secrets in the family?"

"I'm afraid so, Dad. I was sworn to secrecy."

"Hmm," Major Charles looked at him thoughtfully. "Is it good or bad?"

"Oh, good." Ethan rapidly assured his father on this point. "Very good."

"We-ell, okay." Major Charles' answer was hesitant and Ethan rapidly changed the subject.

"Was there something you wanted, Dad?"

"Oh, right." The older man smiled and dropped a piece of paper on the desk. "I want to know everything you can tell me about..."

*~*

"Your mother and I met," Margaret smiled faintly at the memory, "when we both attended the same school, many years ago now. It was a Catholic school - quite strict - and it was from here that Catherine was to go into the convent. I have to confess that I never fully believed that she would go through with it. But that's what she believed the voices she heard were instructing her to do."

"Her… voices? You knew about them?"

"Of course." Margaret looked surprised. "When she was having difficulty understanding what they might mean, she would always come to me and we would try to work them out together. The one over which we always had the most puzzlement was one where she seemed to be trapped in a building somewhere, and the image of her own mother would appear, holding out a hand..."

"...on which her ring would sparkle."

Jarod's mother looked up sharply. "You saw it, too."

"Once, yes. It helped save my life."

"It did the same for your mother. There was an accident when construction of some of the sub-levels of the Centre were underway - I had this information in a letter - and Catherine was trapped there before her husband finally freed her. He got to her just before the roof caved in."

"And...when she was pregnant? Did she write to you then?"

Margaret nodded, her face somewhat sad. "I got a letter of mixed emotions from her at that time. She told me what they had done to her, that the children weren't that of her husband, but that he had sanctioned it. But she was so excited at the thought of being a mother, you just can't imagine. She was only seven weeks pregnant when she wrote to me and said that she was going to have both a boy and a girl - the girl would be called Maleah and the boy would be Timothy. When you were born, she wrote to me again, telling me how sad she was that the boy had died and that she had been so sure he would survive. Her own mother had lost a child in pregnancy but she had the same gift - if you want to call it that - that you and Catherine share and the child she had lost had never presented a name for itself. The fact that the boy told Catherine his name meant that, when the doctor said he had died, she found it hard to believe him."

"Did she see anything else?"

"Once," the older Mrs Ballinger smiled, "she saw your father as he was involved in some dangerous work at the Centre. A phone call from her saved his life on that occasion. Otherwise he would probably have been assassinated by one of the other Centre staff members."

Jarod exchanged a look with his wife, but remained silent.

"Margaret, did my mother ever tell you how she got the messages and visions?"

"Of course, Maleah. It was hard for her at the beginning. Like you, she lost her mother very early and she knew nothing of her 'gift', as she called it, until she was into her early teens. We were both fifteen when we met at the school and she, perhaps hearing hints as early signs of that inner sense, was convinced that I would be able to help."

"And could you?"

"I suppose I could. I must have been able to, because her abilities in that area were certainly enhanced by the time she met her husband."

"And what...?"

"You want my help, I suppose." Margaret smiled. "In the same way that your mother did. You even have the same, indirect way of asking for it."

"And will you?" Jarod's wife reached forward and took her mother-in-law's hand, her eyes pleading. "Will you help me?"

"Maleah, I would love to."

*~*

"The most important thing is to relax, and Jarod," Margaret glanced over her shoulder to where her son stood, "if you say 'I told you so', I shall personally banish you from my home."

"My lips are sealed," he grinned "I wouldn't miss this for the world."

She smiled warmly at him and then looked back to where his wife lay on the sofa, her eyes closed. "It used to be helpful, in the beginning, for your mother to conjure up an image of her own mother. Once she had a clear picture of her in her mind, Catherine would try to imagine making contact - physical contact - of some kind with her, such as taking her hand or being held in her arms."

Jarod's brow furrowed, his mind going back over his desperate attempts during his time out of the Centre of trying to do the same with the woman who stood in front of him.

"She used to call this step 'grounding.' Your mother found that, when she had managed to obtain contact, it would seem as though her mother was speaking to her. Catherine could see her lips move and, sometimes, hear the voice that she could just recollect. Your mother," Margaret smiled, "did not look the same as her mother, but had the same voice and identical intonation." She paused. "Can you do it, Maleah? Can you see her?"

"Yes." The voice was soft and seemed to come from a great distance. "I can."

The almost ghostly tones made Jarod shiver and he saw his mother glance over at him with a look of concern. He managed to smile at her and she turned back, reaching over only to squeeze his hand gently.

"What do you see now?"

"There's… somebody else. I can see another figure in the background - a young girl. She..."

"Louise." Jarod finally felt himself able to speak. "Is it Louise, Maleah?"

"Yes." His wife's hand crept slowly from her side to rest on her stomach and Margaret turned to her son, her face this time expressing a combination of shock and joy. He nodded, answering the unspoken question he could see in her eyes.

"She's… talking to me. But I can't make out what she's saying."

Jarod stood up, reached out and, prompted by some instinct that he couldn't explain, laid one hand on hers. He could feel tenseness in her hand that relaxed almost as soon as she felt his touch.

"She..." Her voice died away and Jarod looked up at his mother in concern. She smiled and shook her head, approaching so that she could speak into his ear without disturbing his wife.

"No, Jarod. That's the way it's meant to be. She hears the voices, the words and responds to them in the same way. But you're helping." Margaret, too, placed her hand on that of her son and daughter-in-law. "You're helping her just by being there." Gently she kissed him and then got up and walked into the kitchen.

*~*

"Sydney?"

The psychiatrist looked up with a smile. "Hello, Steven. How was school?"

"Weird." The boy flung himself into a chair and it creaked in protest.

"How so?"

"It's just…everything's so easy! Even in the really high classes, it's still so easy for me."

"Are you surprised by that?"

The boy shrugged. "I don't know. I guess so. I mean I hadn't realized that they could be so…dumb!"

"Steven," Sydney folded his hands in front of him, "the main reason that we wanted you to go to school in the first place was for social contact."

"But..."

"Wait. Please. Your father, mother and brother felt, and I agree, that you need more contact than you can get with people here at the Centre."

"But I could get that without having to go to school!"

"Oh, really?" Sydney sat back in his chair. "How?"

"There's heaps of sports and stuff that people do after school and on weekends. I could do that kind of thing."

"And when would you learn?"

The boy looked up at him for a few seconds and Sydney believed he could guess what was coming. "You could teach me."

"Could I?" Sydney smiled, the words more of a statement than a question.

"Well, why not? You taught Jarod."

"I 'taught', if you want to use that phrase, him to use his abilities in certain specific areas. We never ventured into such subjects as science or languages."

"So how did he learn them?"

"Knowing your brother," Sydney smiled, "he probably read about them in books."

*~*

"Maleah?"

She opened her eyes and looked up at him, the hint of a smile on her otherwise serious face. Gently he reached forward and brushed the hair out of her eyes.

"Are you okay?"

He smiled. "I should be asking you that."

"I can do it, Jarod." Her face now bore an expression of near-amazement. "I can really hear her."

"I knew you could, sweetheart." He bent down and kissed her gently. "I always knew you could."

She rolled over so that she was lying on her side and he got up from the chair and knelt in front of her. Maleah reached out and took his hand, gently guiding it to her mouth and kissing the palm. He gently stroked her cheek with his thumb and then moved in closer, kissing her gently on the mouth.

"Do you want to stay here, or...?"

She nodded. "For the moment. Maybe your mother can..."

Jarod gently released himself from her hold. "I still have some things to do at the Centre. I'll come back when I'm done there and then we can go home, okay?"

She smiled at him once before rolling onto her back again with a sigh and closing her eyes.

*~*

"Son, your mother just called."

Jarod looked up in alarm. "Is Maleah alright?"

Major Charles smiled. "She's fine. Margaret just wanted to know if she and you wanted to stay for dinner."

"A family dinner?" The Pretender smiled. "How could I refuse? Is it just us, or...?"

"Sydney and Angelo are also invited."

"Sounds great. When?"

"Seven?"

"I'll be there."

He watched with a smile as his father left the office before looking back down at a piece of paper on which he had been making notes. For some thirty minutes he frowned over it, scribbling and crossing out things until, finally, he slipped it into a folder and emptied a glass of Dr Pepper that sat on his desk. Picking up a bundle of papers, of which the folder was on top, he left his office.

"Any luck, Syd?"

The psychiatrist stared blankly at the screen in front of him and then shook his head. "None so far." He looked up. "It's so frustrating."

"You're telling me." Jarod dropped the bundle on the desk. "This is everything I could find about the treatments that Raines gave him. It's not much, but it's all there was. He obviously decided, for his own safety, not to write much."

"It would make our job a lot easier if he had."

Jarod nodded in agreement and Sydney glanced up at him. "You managed to work something out last time..."

"I know." The Pretender sighed. "But I've spent the last two weeks thinking about what I did then..."

"The last two weeks?" Sydney raised his eyebrows. "Great honeymoon company you must have been!"

"Well, I thought about it whenever I wasn't thinking about her..."

"So you didn't think about it at all..."

"Sydney, please!" Jarod tried to hide the smile on his face. "I spent some time thinking about it, but not as much as I otherwise would, okay?"

"Yes," Sydney smiled. "I can believe that." He paused. "So what did you come up with?"

"At first, not much." He pulled a sheet of paper out of the top folder and unfolded it, turning it so that Sydney could see. "This is what I did last time - and as much of the results as I could tell at the time. You might recall," he smiled slightly, "that I only saw the end result."

"And I only saw the beginning," the psychiatrist replied. "So together we should be able to manage well."

"So I worked through what I did - and I think I might have found a small loophole that could allow us, if we adapt the treatment slightly, to again achieve some of what we did last time."

"Some?"

"I don't know," Jarod ran a hand through his hair, "how much of an impact it will have, if any. I sometimes feel that maybe I'm a little too involved. I'm going to talk to Steve about it tomorrow." Jarod got up.

"Where are you going?"

"To make a start on it."

"Have you forgotten," Sydney, with a small smile, glanced at his watch, "that we have a dinner date tonight?"


Jarod clapped a hand to his forehead. "If I'd forgotten..."

"...you would have been a very unpopular husband and son." With a wide grin, Sydney stood up and grabbed his jacket, placing one hand on Jarod's arm and steering him out of the office. "Now let's go before you get distracted by something else."

The Music of the Heart
Part 18 - Teneramente


Margaret opened the door to allow Jarod, Sydney and Angelo into the house. Her son glanced at her but before he could speak, she nodded towards the closed door of Ethan's room.

"She's in there, Jarod. We'll be serving dinner in half an hour. Don't be late, either of you."

Jarod exchanged amused glances with Sydney. "We won't, Mom. I promise."

He tapped gently on the door and opened it to find his wife lying on their brother's bed. Softly he walked over the carpet and stood looking down at her. Hesitantly he stretched out one hand and placed in on hers. After a moment, she raised her eyes and looked at him.

"Hi."

He sat on the bed next to her and she sat up, allowing herself to be pulled into his arms. He rocked her gently for several moments, comforting himself as much as her. Although he had been denying it to himself, he had worried about her all afternoon.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded slowly. "It's so...powerful."

"And it's tiring, too, I think."

"How did you know?" Her eyes were wide. He laughed softly and brushed the skin under her eyes with a gentle finger.

"Wild guess." He smiled. "Or maybe I have my own inner sense." He lowered his lips to her ear. "Just about you." He softly kissed her cheek and then placed one hand on hers. "Are you going to get up or do you want to stay here?"

"As long as I don't have to provide scintillating after-dinner conversation..."

He helped her stand. "I'll see what I can do to compensate for your deficiencies."

*~*

"And what will the treatment achieve?"

Margaret looked across at her son from her seat in the living room. As he stirred his coffee, Jarod shot a glance over to where Angelo was sitting with baby Lucas in his lap.

"I'm not sure. I don't want to guarantee anything, in case it doesn't work."

"Do you have any reason for thinking that it won't?"

"Just one." Jarod turned to his father. "We made an attempt at treatment a few years ago but it was never finished and the damage that it caused could now block our current therapy."

"But, if it does work..."

"...Angelo will at least regain the ability to be more independent. He may also be able to better communicate. That was certainly what happened last time."

"And when are you going to do it?"

"I want to start preparing it tomorrow morning. I have one test to run in the morning," he shot a meaningful glace at Sydney, "but then I'll start."

"What was that for?" the psychiatrist asked, puzzled, and Jarod laughed.

"It occurred to me that I haven't checked your shoulder since we got access to all of the wonderful equipment that the Centre has provided us with. I want to make sure that everything's okay with that arm."

"Jarod, I..."

"Sydney, you admitted yourself that I'm more stubborn and, in this circumstance, I have every intention of being so, I can assure you." He grinned. "I'll see you in the infirmary at eight."

The psychiatrist sighed and threw up his hands in a gesture of defeat. "Where on earth did I go wrong?" He caught Jarod's father’s eye and grinned. "All right, fine. I'll be there at eight."

*~*

Jarod nudged his wife under cover of an argument that was occurring between Steven and his father about school.

"Are you ready to go home?" The eyes she turned on him were dreamy and only half-open, and he grinned. "I'll take that as a yes."

He took advantage of a pause in the dispute to stand up. "I think it's high time we were off. School or no school, going to bed late isn't good for a growing boy." He fended off the mock-punch that Steven threw in his direction with ease and turned to his parents.

"Thanks for a very lovely evening. We should do this more often."

"The meal, you mean?" Major Charles grinned at his son. "Or the argument?"

"Oh, my mistake," Jarod laughed, steering his wife towards the door. "I hadn't realized they could be mutually exclusive!"

*~*

He glanced down at her as they approached the house. "Are you awake?"

"What are you going to do if I say no?"

"Then I suppose I'll have to carry you into the house."

A small smile appeared on his wife's face. "No."

She turned slightly and relaxed into the seat with a sigh, her eyes closed. He grinned as he pulled the car into the driveway and turned off the engine. She still hadn't moved by the time he got out of the car and he came around to her door. Gently he slid one hand under her legs and the other around behind her neck. She slowly lifted her arms and linked them behind his head, a sigh the only other sign that she knew what he had done. With a push from his foot, the car door shut and he remotely locked the vehicle before entering the house.

In the bedroom, he gently put her down on the mattress and slipped the shoes off her feet, undoing the buttons of her shirt and gently easing her arms out of it. It was the work of only a few moments for her to be clothed in the silk nightgown that had been underneath her pillow. After loosening her hair, Jarod pulled up the blanket so that it covered her warmly and then stood and watched her sleep.

Suddenly, with no prior warning, the image of her as she had been when he had seen her in the Californian house, sitting on the floor opposite him, came into his mind and he tried to compare that woman with the one who lay in front of him. He shook his head at the changes that had occurred in the space of only a little more than two months. Gingerly he reached out and, with the tip of one finger, he touched her as gently as he had when, wet and cold, she had pulled away from him. Now she was warm and her skin, beginning to respond to the increase of hormones caused by her pregnancy, glowed pink and smooth. A smile curled his lips as he bent down and brushed her cheek with his lips before turning and leaving the room.

*~*

"Did you sleep at all last night?"

Jarod looked up from the computer on which he was working and placed one hand on his chin, eyeing the ceiling thoughtfully. "Sleep… Remind me what that is again."

She came over and stood behind him, her chin resting on his head and her arms hanging down around his neck. "How on earth you'll get anything done today..."

"Well," he glanced at his watch. "It is only five thirty. I could come back to bed now and…" He grinned. "But I probably wouldn't get the chance to sleep much."

"Hmm," it was now her turn to look thoughtful. "I suppose that could be possible."

Loosening her arms from his neck, he spun his chair around so that he was facing her. "How did you sleep?"

"Jarod, I'm fine."

He looked up at her, noting that the discoloration under her eyes had faded and that there was a light in her eyes that he only saw when she was at her fittest.

"I'm glad to hear it." He caught the hand with which she was about to turn off his computer and held it tightly. "And what was that for?"

"I want you," she smiled, "all to myself, with no distractions."

"Well, according to my calculations, there's still two hours before I have to leave for work, so I suppose you can have me."

"Good."

"But not all to yourself."

She raised an eyebrow at him as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. "I have to share? With whom?"

Jarod placed a loving hand on her stomach and smiled up at his wife. "Her."

*~*

She rolled over cautiously and looked up into his sleeping face. After an hour, he had finally dropped off and, being aware that he retained his old habit of only sleeping lightly, she had been trying to be quiet and still so that he could get the rest he needed. The last few nights, particularly, had been trying for them both but she knew that, while she had manage to get a few hours of sleep every night, he had been lying awake and worrying about her. She ran one hand over her stomach and tried to find a comfortable position to lie. A muscle in her back cramped as she lay on her side and, with a soft gasp, she moved to ease it. The sound, however, had been enough and his eyes flew open.

"Where does it hurt?"

She groaned. "My back." He put out one hand and put sufficient pressure on the spot that the pain dissolved almost immediately. "I'm sorry."

"Why, Maleah?" A look of concern crossed his face. "What are you sorry for?"

"I didn't want to wake you." Tears, easy when she was so tired and sore, came into her eyes.

"Sweetheart, I don't mind. I can sleep some other time." He gently wrapped an arm around her and let her lie against his shoulder, the position where she was most comfortable. She gasped as another wave of pain came over her and he sat up immediately. "That wasn't a cramp, was it?"

With difficulty, she shook her head. "They started a while ago."

He placed one hand gently on her forehead and bent down to kiss her. "I'm going to run you a warm bath. That will help until it's time to go."

She nodded and he left the room at once.

He checked through the last few things in the suitcase and clicked the locks shut, placing it at the head of the stairs. It was with a warm smile that he glanced into the bathroom. The water had eased some of the pain and, with a better idea than she had of what she was going to have to go through, he was pleased to see that she could relax a little. To nobody's surprise, she had refused to go to pre-natal classes, insisting that what she didn't know for herself, Jarod could tell her. The last scans had shown that the baby was in the breach position and so badly placed that every breath her mother took caused the small head to rub against her ribs. In trying to avoid that, the muscles in her back would often cramp up. It had been going on for several weeks now and they had both been waiting for the due date with some impatience.

"How is it?"

"Better - " she broke off with a groan as a new contraction began and he came over and supported her until it was over.

"Better, huh?" The dimples in his cheeks showed faintly and she would have glared at him, had she not seen the look of concern in his eyes.

"How long?"

He brushed the wet hair away from her face. "There's still a while to go. This baby is stubborn, just like her mother. She'll come when she's ready."

"Are you going… to call Dad?"

"Only when we get to the hospital. There's no point just yet. This could go on for hours."

"No it couldn't." She gasped. "I'll be dead by then."

"Mom told me that your mother was in labor for eleven hours with you. And that's short for a first pregnancy."

His wife rolled her eyes and gritted her teeth as the next wave came.

"No, Maleah." He picked up a clean washcloth, wet it and slipped it in between her lips. "If you do that, you might damage your mouth."

*~*

It was almost two a.m. when he finally drove her up to the doorway of the Centre and to the waiting trolley.


"Infirmary."

As they hurried down the dark and empty hallways, the nurse glanced at him. "Mr Ballinger, are you...?"

"No." Jarod spoke firmly. "I'm the husband, not the doctor this time." He allowed his wife to tighten her grasp on two of his fingers as they entered the elevator and, as the doors opened several moments later, he looked up into the face of the man he had called in as his wife's doctor.

"Well, this is a fine time to be calling a poor, innocent person out of bed."

"Very funny." Mrs Ballinger glared at him and muttered the words between her teeth as her trolley was rolled into the delivery room.

"Sweetheart, I'm going to go and call your father." He released his hand from her grasp and kissed her gently. "I'll be back before Louise gets here, I promise."

She nodded and then allowed one of the nurses to slip the heartbeat monitor around her stomach as he stepped back and left the room.

*~*

"Mph?"

"Sydney? Are you awake?"

"Jarod? Jarod, it's two a.m. What on earth are you calling me now for?"

"It's not my fault. Blame your granddaughter."

There was a moment's silence on the other end of the line and Jarod had a hard time not laughing.

"You mean...?"

"She's not here yet, but she's on the way. If you want, I can send Sam over to drive you here."

Jarod exchanged an amused look with the man who stood in the corner of the room. The sweeper returned the expression with a warm smile of his own.

"No, no. It's fine. I'll be there soon." Jarod heard the dial tone in his ear and shared a moment of quiet amusement with the sweeper before activating the phone again and calling his parents.

*~*
The nurse came over and tied the mask around the mouth and nose of the tall man who stood in the corner.

"How's she doing?"

"We're nearly ready, Mr Ballinger. You can go in and we'll be there in a few moments to deliver this baby."

Jarod nodded and followed the nurse in through the door. At the first sight of him, his wife giggled.

"You look funny."

"And you're as high as a kite." He grinned behind the mask as he sat down on the stool beside her. "I thought this was going to be a natural birth."

"The doctor felt that Mrs Ballinger was having excessive pain," the nurse told him quietly, "and thought that that would be the best way of relieving it."

Jarod nodded his thanks and, a look of concern on his face, turned back to his wife. Despite the drug, he could still see that the effect that the pain was having on her. He reached down and brushed the beads of sweat away from her forehead. "Soon," he promised softly. "Very soon. It'll all be over very soon."

She grabbed his hand as the next contractions began and, as she did so, the doors opened and the doctor entered the room.

*~*

Jarod looked down at the small infant he held in his arms, unable to truly believe that it was his own. With the tip of one finger, he touched the round, pink cheek and the soft hair. The eyes, large and blue like her mothers, now lay closed in infant slumber and a tuft of hair, dark like his, stuck out from under the blanket in which she was wrapped.

"Hello, Louise." His voice was soft and tender and his eyes glistened with happy tears. "I'm your Daddy."

"Mr Ballinger?"

Jarod looked up to see the doctor standing next to him and he held out the arm that wasn't holding his daughter. "Thank you very much, Dr Donaldson."

"My pleasure." The doctor looked down into the sleeping face of the baby. "You have a beautiful and healthy baby girl. I wish all of the babies I delivered were that healthy."

"I'm delighted to hear it."

The doctor looked around. "We'll have your wife settled into her room in about twenty minutes. If you would like to go and show off your daughter, I can send a nurse to get you when she's ready."

The proud father smiled and left the room, the baby held carefully in his arms.

*~*

Having left her daughter in the safety of her grandparents' care and being allowed to see his wife, Jarod let himself quietly into her room and turned to see her watching him.

"How is she?"

He came over and sat beside her on the bed. "She's perfect, just like you."

Her giggle told him that the drug she had been given for the pain had not had a chance to completely wear off but he could see in her eyes that its secondary effect of sedation, combined with the exhaustion caused by the labor, was beginning to take effect. He leaned forward and brushed her forehead with his lips and she slipped her hand into his.

"Stay with me."

Nodding, he slipped off the bed and sat on the chair beside it, his fingers still entwined with hers. Picking up her bag with his free hand, he extracted a book out of it and began softly to read it aloud. Within a few short moments, however, he saw that her eyes were closed and, closing the book and replacing it in the bag, he placed his head down on the bed beside her hand and rapidly followed his wife into dreamland.

*~*

Jarod opened the door of the room that he, Broots and Steven had spent the last three days busily decorating as the nursery and allowed his wife in to see it.

"It…" She turned with a smile and faced the three people who had done the work. "It's absolutely beautiful."

"Just like you." Jarod came over and put his arms around her. "And our baby."

He heard the gagging noises that his clone was making and, with a deep growl, laughingly chased the boy out of the room.

Mrs Ballinger walked over and took the baby from the man who still stood in the doorway. "Thank you, Broots."

"My pleasure." He grinned. "Our pleasure. We had a lot of fun."

"I bet." She smiled. "I don't know how the three of you got any work done."

"Well, it wasn't easy, but we managed."

Maleah Ballinger walked over and placed the sleeping baby into the cot that was waiting for her, turning back to find only her husband standing in the doorway. He walked over and slipped his arms around her waist, holding her closely as they looked down at their child. She turned her face up to his and he kissed it gently.

"Timmy asked me yesterday if I was happy."

"And what did you tell him?"

"I didn't have to tell him anything." Jarod smiled. "Even without being able to empath my feelings, he only had to look at the expression on my face."

"Ben Miller came to visit me yesterday. He said that, once he read about the birth in the paper, he had to come."

"Did he tell you anything?"

Jarod's wife shook her head. "He gave me something instead."

"Letters from your mother."

She twisted in his arms and stared up at him in amazement. "How did you know?"

"Either," he responded, laughing, "I saw them in your room, or that was my inner sense working again."

The Music of the Heart
Epilogue - Risoluto


After the third encore, the audience was finally persuaded that the concert was over. It took some time for the auditorium to empty, but finally the cleaning staff could begin their work. At the stage door, a crowd waited expectantly for the star of the show. Eventually he appeared, a heavy coat over his tuxedo to block out the chilly winter wind. He signed autographs for those who wanted them and exchanged pleasantries with the members of the orchestra as they left the building, all heading for the shelter of their cars. Finally the crowd dispersed and the man was about to go back inside to the warmth of his dressing room when he felt the small arms clutching his leg.

"Well, my baby," he bent down and picked up the five-year-old girl, holding her firmly. "Did you have a good day?"

She nodded and giggled. "Yes, Daddy. Momma and me had a lot of fun."

"Momma and who?"

"'I' then, silly."

She tried to frown at him but he kissed her on the tip of her nose and she wriggled instead. He encased her in the folds of his coat and turned to find his wife leaning against the wall, some distance away. Walking over, he wrapped his arms around her for a moment before walking with the two of them through the door that led backstage.

*~*

The house in which they were staying was familiar to both Jarod and his wife and, as they stood on the balcony overlooking the Pacific Ocean that night, both recalled the events that had drawn them together there.

"I'm impressed that your friend trusted us with this place again."

"We-ell," Jarod smiled. "I had to promise that he wouldn't come home to find bullet holes in the walls this time."

"And then to go off with his boat..."

"I returned that!" Jarod gave her a mock-glare. "Anyone would think that I was in the habit of taking things and not giving them back!"

"And who's to say you aren't?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to tell me what?"

She placed both hands on her chest and gave him a look of mock innocence, fluttering her eyelashes flirtatiously.
"My heart."

Jarod rolled his eyes with a groan. "Oh, what a terrible cliché!" He gave a wicked chuckle. "That definitely deserves retribution."

"Oh, really?" She looked up at him. "I'm petrified."

He scooped her up his arms. "You should be," he lowered his face to whisper menacingly in her ear. "You should be absolutely beside yourself with terror."

His lips met hers and, as he carried her back inside, the sun slid below the horizon and night began to fall.

*~*

The book was so small that not many people took much interest in it. Only a few devotees of poetry bothered to pick it up but most who did were captivated by the verses that it contained. The poet was unknown but the man who, several weeks later, produced a book of musical accompaniments to the verses was a name that was recognized by many keen musical devotees. Those who had the opportunity of combining the two forms of art agreed that the verses gave some greater power to the music and that the notes emphasized the lines of verse. It would, however, have been a surprise to many to learn that the inspiration for both was a small girl who was the delight of her entire family.

*~*

Jarod was sitting in the corner of the sofa, his wife leaning against him and their child playing on the floor, when she sat up and looked up him. "Do you know what today is?"

"I haven't forgotten your birthday, have I?"

"No," she laughed. "But you have forgotten another important anniversary."

"Hmm," he sat up also and stared at the ceiling for a moment. "Our wedding anniversary was only last week, Louise's birthday is still six months away and the anniversary of our defeat of the Centre was only a month ago." He looked up at her in consternation. "What have I forgotten?"

She rolled her eyes. "And people say you're a genius!"

He grabbed her wrist, as she was about to get up, and kept her beside him. "No, you don't. You're going to tell me what important event I've forgotten."

She picked up the book of her poetry that sat on the table in front of them and, pulling her hand away, tossed it into its lap.

"You'll find it," she smiled as she picked up their daughter. "Just look hard."

*~*

He sat with the page open and stared out of the window, unable to believe his stupidity. How on earth could he have forgotten this day of all days? He looked up to find her standing in the doorway, watching him with a smile curving her lips and her arms folded.

"So," she teased. "Did the 'genius' remember?"

"The 'genius'," he responded in similar tones, "is considering never responding to that term ever again." He got up from the sofa and walked over to her, the book still clutched in his hand. As he wrapped his arms around her, he brought his lips close to her ear. "Forgive me?"

"Well, I don't know." She pulled away a little. "You'll have to earn it."

"Oh, no," he chuckled, his voice deep as he walked with her up the stairs. "I don't know if I can manage that." He paused as he pushed their bedroom door shut and he walked towards her, a smile on his lips. "But I can certainly try."

*~*

Several hours later, the small book lay forgotten on the floor, open at the page that he had been reading earlier. The poem that was written there was the shortest of the collection but one that was a favorite of both the author and her husband.

A kiss, that very softest touch of nature
Is something not restrained to humankind
The rosebuds kiss each other in the breezes
Their leaves tightly together sit entwined
A first kiss is still often best remembered
Between two small, shy children - girl and boy
Or so it was between us when we both were young
A memory of my life now filled with joy
The dates of such important and profound events
Should never be forgot on either side
The day, inscribed in gold in each one's book of life
Such as ours on each year's joyous Noel-tide


The End