Please notice this is part of a series..... here you see all part in the right order:

1) Paper Snowflakes (the original, isn't a sequel)
2) To Dance In An English Garden
3) A Night To Remember
4) The Trick Is To Keep Breathing
5) Life In A Heartbeart
6) With Me (the last in the series)


Disclaimer: Wish as I may, I don't own The Pretender or any of its characters. Thanx for not suing! ~Oriana


"The only thing that makes life possible is permanent, intolerable uncertainty; not knowing what comes next."
-Ursula K. Le Guin

~~~~~~~~~

Paper Snowflakes
Part I
by Orinana


Three radio stations, three impatient huffs. Again, a single manicured finger made its way to the tuning dial, and jabbed it with unnecessary force. After a short pause, Bing Crosby began to croon the lines of "The Holly and The Ivy." Parker's eyes narrowed, and her grip on the steering tightened, as she put every ounce of self-control into preventing herself from releasing a yell of irritation. She'd tried that an hour earlier, the last time she'd passed through a town large enough to offer a radio station, only to be half-deafened by her own echo in the luxury car. Deciding that turning off the stereo was the only chance of saving what was left of her frayed nerves, she did so, and felt an immediate drop in her skyrocketing blood pressure.Why was it everyone had the need to constantly play Christmas tunes?

In the absence of music, however, Parker again was left without a distracter, something to keep her mind off the holidays. Her eyes wandered to the houses of Bloomfield, lining the streets she drove on, all decked with colorful lights -just visible in the fading light of day- and plastic santas, and she thought of her own home, back in Blue Cove, completely lacking holiday cheer. There were no lights or nativity scenes outside, there was no tree or mistletoe inside, not even a wreath on the door. She'd been avoiding the thought of the holiday season since the first aisle of red and green had appeared at a local drugstore in November, avoiding thoughts of being alone while others gathered with their families. Mom and Thomas were dead, Sydney and Broots had their own places to be, Daddy was god only knew where, and spending Thanksgiving or Christmas with Lyle was as appealing as a tax audit.

Now, it was December 21, and here she was, driving as far as possible from an empty house. Her original destination had been an equally empty cabin, but it was far from the Centre, and that was all that had mattered. It offered isolation, being in the Canadian province of Quebec, 30 miles from the nearest town.

These thoughts carried her past the town limits, and it was 20 minutes after Parker had passed the last house that she was even aware of her surroundings again.

Miss Parker didn't have a clue where the hell she was, apart from the vague description of "somewhere in northern Vermont." She'd read the map wrong, been 40 miles down the wrong road before even realizing it, and decided to simply go wherever it led; after the screw up, use of the map seemed rather pointless. Now, however, she wasn't so sure. The last rays of sunlight were disappearing, and the occasional sign of some business in an upcoming town had disappeared. Probably best to turn around, head back to Bloomfield, and go towards Quebec in the morning. Parker didn't know a lot about the wilderness, but the one thing she knew for certain was that you didn't want to get lost at night in a place like Vermont, that offered constant
snowfall. As she was waiting for a decent place to pull a u-turn, a log cabin off to one side caught her eye. Somewhat large, probably the winter vacation house of some family. It was up a small hill, nearly half a mile to her right.

A few moment later, she found an area clear enough to turn around and did so. It was only as she began driving back that the car made a slight choking sound. Not the mechanic type, Miss Parker raised an eyebrow in question. The noise, which was growing more frequent, was not a promising one. Sure enough, the car continued on only a few more yards before slowing to a stop. Putting the brake on, she sighed and reached for the door handle, prepared to see if there was anything she, in her limited vehicle knowledge, could do. Maybe kick it or something. The car, however, saved her the trouble--thin wisps of smoke began to escape the hood, as well as the low hissing sound of hot steam. Parker placed her forehead on the steering wheel and groaned, thinking of how long it would take for a tow truck to get out here from Bloomfield. It was only as she reached to the passenger seat for her cell phone that it struck her--just how was someone going to find her, all the way out here? She didn't even know the name of the road she was on. The conversation played through her head: "Hello? My car's dead, I need a tow truck...Where? Um, well, there's lots of mountains, some trees on both sides, a snow-covered ditch..." Shaking her head, she activated the phone, only to be greeted by a beep of warning. She looked down warily and sure enough, the battery light faded away. With a growl of irritation, she pressed a button to her side, and as the passenger side window rolled down, Parker chucked the cell phone out it.

Thinking back to the cabin she'd spotted, Parker looked ahead, and was happy to spot not only that the turnoff to the driveway was just a few yards away, but also that the driveway itself was freshly shoveled. Judging by the new snow on the road -which the driveway showed no sign of- it'd been cleared that afternoon at the latest. So civilization was within reach after all. She looked out her window dubiously--a few fat flakes had already appeared out of nowhere. She suddenly regretted her choice in footwear, the knee-high black leather boots with a 3-inch heel, and felt a longing for her hikers, packed away in the trunk with the rest of her things.

Regretting not having the presence of mind to put all the necessary items for one night all in one bag, Parker popped the trunk and retrieved her baggage, slinging the strap of her bag onto her shoulder and grasping the handle of the small suitcase. Funny, they'd seemed lighter that morning.

She began to march resolutely -not an easy thing in heeled boots- down the few yards of road, turned, and headed up the driveway, the small hill not seeming so small any longer. A small rustling in the trees to the left made her suddenly aware of the fact that not all animals hibernated during the winter, like wolves... and though she saw a squirrel appear a moment later, Parker was still thankful for the gun she'd brought along, the only Centre reminder she had with her. Miss Parker had been at the Centre too long to not feel safe anywhere without protection.

Parker so busy keeping an eye out for dangerous wildlife, hard in the dim of late dusk, that it wasn't until she'd reached the hill's plateau and was level with the house ahead that she realized something was wrong with this scene. There were no lights on, no sounds coming from within, and though she fervently hoped they were simply early sleepers, there was a hollow feeling to the house that indicated otherwise.

Knocking, then pounding, at the door, gave no reply. Parker shivered and looked around, noticing that the driveway was already covered in a thin blanket of snow. There was no way she'd make it to town tonight and besides, the residents were sure to come back soon.

Of course, they won't mind if I just make myself at home until then, she thought as she worked the lock with two thin pieces of metal from her pocket, thankful -a rare occasion-for her Centre training. She smiled coyly as she heard the lock click. Eager to get away from the cold weather, she walked in and shut the door behind her with pleasure.

Patting the wall beside her blindly, her fingers finally came across the light switch, which she eagerly flicked on. The room flooded with light, temporarily blinding her night-accustomed eyes. It appeared to be the living room, large and tastefully designed, though there were no Christmas decorations, nor, she noted, a television. Clearly not a family with children. Parker unconsciously shivered again, and noticed for the first time that she could actually see her breath. It couldn't be more than a few degrees warmer in here. Suspicions rising, Parker went around the rest of the first floor, flicking on lights as she went, inspecting the kitchen, bathroom, laundry and dining room as she came upon them, seeing with dismay that everything was immaculate, not a dish in the sink or even a stray sock in the dryer. She went upstairs next, checking all five rooms. The first was another bathroom, also clean -though that itself proved nothing- and the second was a large storage room, more like a sub-attic, too musty to have been entered in some time. The other three, however, were bedrooms and confirmed -with their empty closets and dressers, and perfectly made beds- that the inhabitants of this house had indeed left for good. No doubt gone elsewhere for the holidays, which explained the lack of decorations.

So she was alone. That didn't bother Parker too much, since she expected as much in Quebec. However, her stomach flopped as she reached for the telephone in the kitchen, her instincts telling her that things were going to get worse. Sure enough, when she placed the receiver next to her ear, there was no sound.

"Great," Parker muttered. "Just great." Futile as she knew it was, she went through the kitchen's back door to the one-car garage, confirming that there was indeed no vehicle. On her way back to the living room, she stopped at the utility box, utterly grateful to discover something actually going in her favor when she found that the heat was electric. She flipped the switch on, and turned the thermostat up to 74.

"This is just wonderful," she thought aloud as she flopped down on the sofa in the living room. "An empty house, no way to tell anyone I'm here, and no way to get back to town." As the cabin slowly began to warm up, Parker's thick clothing grew uncomfortable. Reaching outside for her bags, she paused to consider the snow, now coming down harder, then grabbed a few logs of firewood. Turning the thermostat down to 60, she got a fire going in the living room fireplace, before turning her attention to the matter of clothing.

Parker exited the downstairs bedroom, dressed in a long green silk nightgown and robe. She inspected the fridge and cupboards, relieved to find that, though most of the usualperishables, like fruit and milk, weren't available, it was a well-stocked kitchen. She rummaged through the cupboards until she found something that sparked her interest, instant cocoa mix, and nibbled on a few Oreos while a mug of water warmed in the microwave.

Her hands comfortably warmed by the steaming mug it held, Parker padded back into the living room and sat in an overstuffed chair, allowing herself to become mesmerized by the flickering flames and thoroughly enjoying the fact that the biggest choice she was faced with at the moment was whether to sleep upstairs, or just make a bed up on the floor here.

Parker opted for the floor and, after fetching a quilt and pillow from one of the bedrooms, went about getting ready to sleep, though she was almost hesitant to do so. The only light on was in the living room, and between the crackle of the fire and the homey manner of the cabin, she felt quite comfortable and at peace.

"This is incredible," she sighed as she headed into the bathroom to get her brush. "No work, no problems; just me, a mug of hot cocoa, and a little snow outside." She paused at the mirror, running the soft bristles through her dark hair. Her hand, placing the brush back on the counter, stopped mid-motion as her sensitive ears just barely picked up what she could've sworn was the slamming of a car door out front.

"Why don't they just use their garage?" she murmured. There was no more sound, and after a moment she shrugged it off, figuring that she just wasn't used to actual peace and quiet. Then, she quite clearly heard the sound of someone knocking at the door. Sighing, wondering just who the hell would be out at this time of night, Parker reached out and turned the knob, only to find the door wouldn't pull open. She grabbed the knob with both hands and pulled even harder, but the door wouldn't nudge. The knocking became louder.

"Be right there!" Parker shouted, though in the back of her mind she knew that it was pointless--the bathroom was at the back of the house, and with the door shut there was no way whoever it was would hear. Just as she heard the squeak of the front door opening, her own door finally swung open with a final determined yank, causing her to lose her balance momentarily. Shaking her head at the ridiculousness of it all, she hurried down the short hallway and, just as she turned the corner to enter the living room, called out,

"Sorry about that, but I was actually--"

Parker stopped short as she caught sight of who stood in the doorway. Two words involuntarily came from her mouth: "My god."

Disclaimer: I don't own "The Pretender" or any of ist characters. Thanx for not suing! ~Oriana


"Who knows the thoughts of a child?"
Nora Perry

~~~~~~~~~

Paper Snowflakes
Part II
by Orinana


In the doorway, between the darkened snowfall and the lightened living room, stood Jarod, the snowflakes covering him a great contrast to his dark hair and jacket. Wide eyed, a face suddenly five shades paler, he looked rather like a deer caught in headlights.

Neither moved, neither spoke--it was as if that one moment were frozen in time. The moment, however, was broken when Parker's mind caught up with the situation: What the hell's the matter? Move already! And so she did, rushing a few last steps the coffee table, and getting a good grasp on her gun. The relaxed Parker reveling in her cocoa and fire was gone and now, standing in front of Jarod, was the Parker of old, arms held in perfect aim, mouth set in a grim straight line, eyes colder than the weather outside.

"You can't imagine how badly timed this is," she said, slowly moving forward. "I don't even have handcuffs on me--but I'm sure there's some rope around here somewhere." A small, unpleasant grin played across her features, and she added, "This just might be a wonderful Christmas after all." Jarod's eyes narrowed, and for the first time, Parker wondered why he didn't bother to run.

"For god's sake, Parker, put the gun down!" he hissed, glaring at her.

She laughed in reply. "Oh, I'm sure you'd love that."

"Jarod?" Parker's smile vanished, and her eyes shot passed Jarod out into the cold night, focusing on the small, childlike voice. "Jarod," a girl's voice came again, "I can't get Teddy's seatbelt unbuckled." Jarod didn't reply, but kept his eyes focused completely on Parker's, silently pleading her to do as he asked.

"Who the hell is that?" she demanded in a hushed voice, brushing past him and poking her head outside. A few feet away was Jarod's parked car. The back door was open, and the overhead light illuminated someone rummaging around in the back seat. Parker moved back inside, and re-aimed her gun at Jarod's head.

"Mind explaining?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You have my word that I won't run," he replied through clenched teeth. "Just put the gun down--she's terrified of them."

Parker opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by the girl calling out, "Never mind, I've got it!" A door slammed shut.

"Parker, please." The crunching of snow outside announced her movement toward the door. With a venomous growl, she shoved the .9mm under a cushion, and not a moment too soon, because just as her hand came back to her side, a young girl appeared in the doorway next to Jarod.

"I just can't believe we ran into each other, all the way up here," Jarod said cheerfully, his eyes thanking her. He placed an arm around the girl's shoulders. "This is the girl I was telling you about, Samantha. Sam, this is Miss Parker--you remember, I told you about her?" Parker shot a quick suspicious glance at Jarod before walking over and offering the girl her hand. Sam removed her gloves, then took it, and they shook hands--she felt slightly alarmed at just how cold the little girl's hand was.

"Hi," Parker smiled. "You guys must be freezing--come inside and shut the door." Samantha moved inside quickly, going to the fireplace and spreading her hands out in front of it to warm them. Parker gave Jarod a concerned look of question before walking to Sam. "Would you like some hot cocoa?" Sam nodded eagerly. "OK, one mug, coming right up. Jarod, would you mind giving me a hand?"

"Of course," he replied, offering a plastic smile. Samantha squirmed onto the couch and wrapped herself up in Parker's quilt, while the two walked past the dining room, and through the swinging door into the kitchen. She pulled him to the farthest corner.

"You'd better start talking," she snapped in a harsh whisper, "because you've got two minutes before I pull that gun back on you, little girl or no." She reached past him and grabbed the box of instant cocoa mix.

"Look, I don't like this anymore than you do, and believe me, if I'd known you were here, I'd have taken our chances with the blizzard."

"What blizzard?"

"The one starting outside. What're you, blind?"

"I am not in the mood for this, so one more smart-ass comment like that and your Pretender butt's outside with the wolves." She filled a mug with tap water, and stuck it in the microwave. "Now, what're you doing here, and what's up the girl?"

"It's a long story, it's late, and she's tired."

"And freezing, too," Parker added as she retrieved the mug from the microwave. "Another explanation I'm waiting for--pass the marshmallows." Jarod did so, and after stirring in the chocolate mix, she added a generous amount of the small sugary puffs. Picking up the steaming mug, she headed for the door. "We'll discuss this after she goes to sleep," she added over her shoulder. "I'll play along with the 'good friends' routine for now, but the minute she's in bed, I want some answers."

~~~~~~~~~

Samantha was already beginning to doze off, her head lowering, so Jarod asked where the bedrooms were.

"They're all upstairs. You ready to sleep, Sam?"

The little girl nodded. "Will you tuck me in, Jarod?"

"Sure, c'mon." He took her hand, and led her upstairs. Parker watched them thoughtfully, then walked over to the suitcase she'd left in a corner, choosing an oversized sweatshirt. She stopped to pick up a teddy bear sitting on the couch, then headed up the stairs. One door was open, and the room was illuminated. Sticking her head in, she smiled at the sight of Jarod coming out from under the large bed, and informing Sam that there were indeed no monsters there.

"Hey, I thought you could use something to sleep in. Oh, and I found this guy downstairs. I believe he belongs to you?"

"Thanks!" Samantha smiled. "Jarod, hold on to Teddy while I change, okay?" She scampered out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom.

"She's a sweet girl."

"Yeah," Jarod agreed. "Strong, too. She's been through a lot lately."

"The latest to benefit from one of your pretends?"

"Yes." This brought them around to the original trouble at hand, and both grew quiet. A few minutes later, Sam reappeared, dressed in Parker's sweatshirt, which went down past her knees.

"Ready to sleep?"

"Yep."

"I'll just be downstairs," Parker said, and walked out into the hall. She paused, however, at the banister, when she heard Samantha say, "I thought you said that you guys weren't friends anymore."

"No, I just said that we aren't as close as we used to be."

"Oh."

"It's late. You and Teddy get some sleep, and we'll talk in the morning, okay?"

"Okay." Parker heard her lean over and add in a whisper, "I like her, Jarod."

"I'm sure she thinks the same thing about you."

"And you were right, she is nice."

"Sleep well. I'll be downstairs for awhile, but I'm gonna sleep in the room next to yours, if you need anything, all right?"

"All right. Good night." Jarod flicked the light off, but the lamp on her bedside table remained on. He left the door cracked a small bit behind him, and joined Parker.

"You told her about me?" she asked as they headed down thestairs.

"It was a long drive. We talked about a lot of stuff."

"You didn't tell her about the Centre?"

"Of course not. She'd have nightmares for a month." They continued on to the couch and sat down.

"Of all the times for you to pop up, it had to be now, four days before Christmas. Jesus, don't you ever take a
vacation?"

"Speaking of vacations, what're you doing in Vermont? Wasn't your cabin rental in Quebec?"

"Never mind what I'm doing here," Parker retorted, not bothering to ask how Jarod even knew of her vacation plans, "let's get back to why you're here. And, more specifically, why there's a nine year old asleep upstairs."

"She's eight."

"Whatever." Jarod watched in dismay as Parker reached under the cushion between them and withdrew her weapon.

"Relax, I'm going to hide it in my bag, so she won't find it."

"I'm more concerned with how you intend to use it, than where you're going to hide it." He regretted having to bring this up, but one of them had to. Parker straightened, and the fire reflected her steely eyes.

"We'll get to that soon enough. First, why is Samantha with you? It's the holidays--why isn't she with her family?"

Jarod's eyes wandered to the fire. "Her father works for a Canadian law firm, very large, very powerful. He and his wife went to Ireland, where he was overseeing a company takeover; meanwhile, back in Montreal, police found Samantha's nanny bound and gagged in a closet, and a ransom note on her bed. Her parents received a videotape showing Sam tied to a chair, with a gun pointed at her head."

"Which explains why she hates guns," Parker realized.

Jarod nodded. "I pretended to be a cop, and found out that the nanny was in on it. She told us where they were keeping Sam readily enough--a warehouse in Massachusetts."

"Fine, so Wonderboy saves the day again. That still doesn't explain why she isn't with her parents."

"When they learned of Sam's kidnapping, Mr. and Mrs. Lansing caught the first cab to the airport. Unfortunately, they were involved in a car accident. Mr. Lansing came to the next morning in the hospital, with nothing worse than a concussion. His wife, however, had some internal bleeding. She's fine now, but the doctors insist that she has to stay in the hospital for another week. I'd let Mr. Lansing know that everything was fine here, and offered to take Samantha up to Montreal to stay with an aunt, while he stayed in Ireland to be with his wife."

"And you didn't just fly her, because..."

"Samantha is deadly afraid of airplanes. I didn't think a road trip would be too bad, but that was before I heard the blizzard warning on the radio. The heater in my car broke half an hour before we got here, and I was hoping we'd make it to Bloomfield, but we'd already skidded off the road once, and with the snow coming down as hard as it was, when we first spotted the cabin I figured it'd be best to just come here. I'd seen the lights on, so I knew there was someone here. The fact that it turned out to be you..."

"Was fate laughing in my face once again," Parker finished for him. "I wouldn't even be here, but my damn car broke down."

"I had a feeling that was yours."

"Yeah, well, we're here now, so it's time to talk about plans." Jarod made no comment, but she saw his eyes sway towards the gun in her palm.

"Keeping in mind the little girl upstairs."

"I'm not totally heartless, Jarod," Parker snapped. "Much as I may like the idea, I wouldn't cuff you in front of Samantha, and I most certainly am not bringing that gun out again. That is," she added in a warning tone, "I have to."

"So you've decided to bring me in."

"First thing in the morning. We'll take your car to Bloomfield, have her aunt meet us there. By the time Sam leaves, the Centre jet should be at the airport."

"Setting aside the fact that there's no way in hell I'll let you take me back, you've got to be fairly delusional to think anyone's going anywhere tomorrow morning."

"And why is that?"

"Have you not heard the word blizzard I've been continually mentioning?"

"The great pretender's afraid of a few flakes?"

"This isn't a few flakes, Parker. We're talking severe weather here, all roads closed, no way out. The snow isn't even supposed to stop for three to four days, and there's no telling how long it will take for the roads to be safe to travel." With the look of surprise on her face, it took everything Jarod had to not burst out laughing.

"You mean to tell me that I'm stuck here, with you, for Christmas? Oh, well that's just grand. I get to spend my holiday trapped in a stranger's cabin, pretending to be able to stand you. Wonderful."

"Aw, come on, Parker, it won't be that bad."

"You've never seen The Shining, have you, Jarod?" She stood, picked up her now-empty mug, and went into the kitchen. "Great," she called out, "and the cocoa's gone!" Jarod laughed. Parker's head appeared in the doorway, her eyes narrowed. "I fail to find the humor in this."

At the top of the stairs stood Samantha, smiling as she listened to their conversation. Four days...who knew what she could accomplish in that much time.

~~~~~~~~~

"You will do foolish things, but do them with enthusiasm."
Colette


Samantha awoke slowly, enjoying the cozy quilt she was wrapped in. She gave Teddy a hug, then slid down the side of the bed, and padded, barefooted, out of the room and down the stairs. She tiptoed to the large front window and, pulling back the curtain, peered outside. Everything was covered in a very thick layer of snow; in fact, the car's tires were half buried already. And still, the snow was coming down. Not as fast as last night, but in thicker flakes.

A burning stench caught her attention, as well as a muffled curse from the kitchen. With Teddy in hand, she went into the kitchen, finding Miss Parker rushing between pans on the stove, as a small wisp of smoke escaped first one, than the other.

"Oh, screw it," Parker sighed. She took a handle in each hand, and flipped them over above the garbage can, allowing the charred remains of bacon and hashbrowns to fall into the trash. She tossed the pans into the water-filled sink, causing a violent hissing sound and billow of steam as the hot pans met the cool water. "Maybe I'll just try toast."

"Maybe there's something in the cupboards we could have for breakfast," Samantha suggested. Parker turned around, seeing her for the first time.

"Oh, good, you're up. Sleep well?"

"Mm-hmm. Um, maybe we should ask Jarod to cook."

Parker laughed. "I admit, I'm no Betty Crocker. In fact, he offered just the same thing, but I said that I'd cook if he got more wood."

"He's outside?"

"Just over in front of the garage. Most of the chopped wood's over there, and we thought it'd be a good idea to get some for later on, just in case."

"Oh."

"You're right, though, there's probably something in the cupboards." She rummaged through a few, until she came upon a box of instant pancake and waffle mix. " 'Just add water,'" she read. "Not even I could mess that up." Parker met Sam's dubious look, and added, "Well, at least not too badly. I see you've got your friend with you."

Sam nodded, and held up her stuffed bear with two hands.
"This is Teddy. Jarod brought him when he came to get me in Massachusetts."

"That was very nice of him. Tell you what," Parker hurried on, wanting to avoid the subject of the kidnapping, "why don't you go upstairs and change?" Jarod had brought in the clothes earlier. Thankfully he'd taken an extra change of clothes with him, for both of them, in case they had to stay overnight somewhere because of weather. "Your clothes are on the chair in your bedroom."

~~~~~~~~~

When Samantha came down a few minutes later, the scent that greeted her was far more pleasant. She found the dining room table set, with a plate of waffles and a bowl of canned fruit in the middle. She went into the kitchen, where Parker was warming syrup up in the microwave. Parker turned to look at her, and smiled.

"Breakfast is just about ready. Why don't you call Jarod in?"

"Okay." Sam walked over to the front door, stuck her head out and looked for Jarod. When she spotted him far to her right, she called out, but her tiny voice was lost in a sudden gust of wind. She retreated back into the warm house, and informed Parker that Jarod couldn't hear her. A sudden idea struck her and laughing, she led the girl to the front door.

"I know just the way to get his attention," Parker grinned mischievously. "Watch this."

Over at the garage, Jarod whistled to himself as he placed a few more pieces of firewood into the wheelbarrow. Suddenly, a snowball struck the back of his head with a solid whack, knocking his hat off. Turning in surprise, he saw Parker and Samantha standing next to the door, innocently waving at him.

Disclaimer: I don't own "The Pretender" or any of ist characters. Thanx for not suing! ~Oriana

~~~~~~~~~

Paper Snowflakes
Part III
by Orinana


"I never thought I'd say this, but you did a great job on breakfast, Parker." She had the sudden impulse to stick her tongue out at Jarod, but held it in. She'd just get him with another snowball later.

"So, what're we gonna do today?" Sam asked hopefully, looking between the two.

"Well, a trip to town is definitely out of the question," Parker sighed. She noticed Jarod avert his eyes, but made no comment. After all, it wasn't as if she wanted to bring him in, and--Wait a minute, where had that come from?

"Jarod says we're spending Christmas here," Sam announced, as she got up from her chair and picked up her empty plate.

"It does appear that way."

"Well, then, maybe we should decorate the cabin. We don't even have a tree, and--" -Sam's eyes widen in sudden realization- "Oh, no! How will Santa find me? We don't even have stockings!" This jarred Jarod from his brooding attitude, and he and Parker exchanged a nervous glance. How were they going to handle this emergency?

"Um, that's something that, er, you don't need to worry about. You know Santa's magical--he'll be sure to come here instead." Parker's smile faltered as Samantha headed off into the kitchen with slumped shoulders and a heavy sigh.

"No, he won't," she mumbled to herself. "I never even got to mail off my wish list."

"What're we going to do?!" Parker hissed as soon as the door swung shut behind Sam.

"Got me, but we have to do something," Jarod pointed out.

"Oh, a lot of help you are. An eight year old is going to lose her faith in Christmas, and we sit here, completely useless."

"Well what do you--" He stopped short as Sam re-entered the dining room.

"Thanks for putting your dishes away."

"No problem," she mumbled, settling back in her chair, and staring at the table. The two adults shot each other helpless looks.

"You know," Parker said suddenly, standing up from her chair, "that's a good idea, Sam." Both looked at her, confused. "Decorating the house. In fact, I bet you guys could even find a pretty cool tree outside. The snow isn't too bad right now--if you stayed close to the cabin, and tried to hurry."

"Yeah!" Sam shouted brightly in agreement, any sign of disappointment wiped from her face. "We can take the ax Jarod was using to chop wood!" She jumped out of her chair and ran into the living room.

"Sure, I'd like that," Jarod finally added. Samantha, however, was already done with her boots and slipping into her winter jacket. He leaned close to Parker. "This doesn't solve our problem."

"Don't worry," she assured him. "I've got a plan."

"And that would be--"

"I'm ready!" Sam unwittingly interrupted, running -as fast as possible in her puffy layers of winter garb- back to the table. Jarod smiled, and rose from the table.

"Go ahead outside, I'll just get my jacket. And stay next to the car!" he added, as she raced to the door. When the door closed behind her, he turned to face Parker as he picked up the ax that was leaning against a wall. "First we invade these people's home, now you've got me destroying their property. So, what's this great plan of yours?"

"While you go tree-hunting with Sam, I'm gonna hunt around the house. It's obvious these people don't have kids, but there's gotta be something we can give her."

"Wonderful, we're going to burglarize them, too."

"Oh, go chop down a tree. And try to buy me as much time as possible, but don't get lost or anything." She glanced out the window at the snow, large flakes peacefully falling."Who knows how long the weather'll stay this calm."

"Fine. Just do me a favor, and don't make anymore cooking attempts."

"I did a good job on those waffles, thank you very much."

"Yeah," Jarod grinned mischievously, "but I saw the burned remains of your first attempt in the garbage." He opened the door and ducked out before she could muster a reply.

~~~~~~~~~

Parker's laughter was still subsiding as she made her way down the upstairs hallway. No point in checking the bedrooms again, and it wasn't as if the bathroom had much to offer in the way of an eight-year-old's Christmas gift. This left the storage room, a task Parker was not looking forward to. Sure enough, no sooner had she opened the door to enter, than her sensitive nose began to itch in reaction to all the dust.

Nothing was stashed in boxes, and the stuffed room barely offered paths to the corners, where miscellaneous items reached nearly to the ceiling. One huge disorganized mess, a neat freak's nightmare. Parker raised an eyebrow as she passed a duck-shaped lamp. Obviously, good taste had not been a prerequisite for whomever had gathered all of this. One large table caught her eye, the items atop it covered with a blanket and a note pinned on: FOR BLOOMFIELD SPRING CHARITY AUCTION. She whipped off the blanket, immediately regretting the action as a large mushroom cloud of dust erupted in her face, resulting in a chain of three speedy sneezes.

Through reddened, watery eyes, Parker spied something in the middle of the table's clutter, and her smile returned.

~~~~~~~~~

"Miss Parker, Miss Parker!" Samantha's joyous shouts echoed through the cabin. Parker quickly moved out of her room, being sure to stop and shut the door. As she headed down the stairs, a scent of fresh pine greeted her. Sure enough, leaning against the wall next to the door was large, deep green tree.

"Isn't it great?" Sam beamed proudly, as Jarod sat wearily down on the couch. Parker gave him a questioning look.

"We had to find just the right tree," Jarod offered in way of an explanation, "and then I had to cut it down and drag it here." Besides, his eyes added silently with their slightly humored look, you did ask for me to keep her busy.

"You guys did a good job. And luckily, I found a tree stand upstairs, along with some other old stuff. No ornaments though."

"So how're we going to decorate it?"

"We'll make some," Parker decided. "It'll give us something to do tonight."

~~~~~~~~

By that evening, the tree was standing in one corner of the living room, completely decked out with foil stars, glitter-covered pine cones and a garland of popcorn. Jarod had lifted Sam up, and she'd placed a construction paper angel on top, the finishing touch. Parker hadn't been able to find any strands of lights either, but with all of the lights turned off, the fire reflected it admirably. They'd sat on the couch, Samantha in the middle, the others at opposite ends, enjoying the scene for the last 15 minutes or so, sipping hot cider and telling what they wanted for Christmas--not a bad ploy to find out what a certain little girl would've asked Santa for. Jarod noticed that Parker was more smiley than usual after that, but kept any comments to himself, snide, teasing or otherwise.

He downed the last of his cider, and turned to offer Sam some more, only to find her already asleep. He silently pointed her out to Parker, then reached over to pick her up. He'd just made it to the stairs when Sam woke up enough to mumble sleepily, "I want Miss Parker to tuck me in, too."

Up in her bedroom, they slipped her under the covers. Just as they were sneaking out, Sam sat up in bed. "Can I have a story, please?"

They looked at each other, and shrugged, then walked back over to the bed. Parker went around and got onto the bed, sitting next to Samantha, while Jarod perched on the edge of the other side.

"So, what story would you like to hear?"

"There was this really great one Jarod told me. Maybe you know another one with the same people." Jarod coughed uncomfortably, but didn't say anything.

"I might. Who was in the story?"

"Oh, it was really great. See, there's this huge kingdom, with an evil king named Raines, and an evil magician too, named Mutumbo."

"Oh, really," Parker said, giving Jarod a suspicious glance.

"Uh-huh. And there was Lyle, the court jester--" Parker laughed in spite of herself. "--and... and... oh, yeah! These two good mages, Sydney and Broots. And the fairy godmother, Catherine, helped them out. And the whole story was about Princess--"

"You know, Sam," Jarod cut off suddenly, "I don't think Miss Parker knows that one. In fact, that was the only story with those people." Samantha pouted unhappily. "Sorry, but I could tell you another story instead."

"Naw, that's the only good one."

"All right, then, good night."

"Yeah," Parker spoke up, smiling down at the little girl next to her, "sleep well."

"'Night." Jarod flicked on the lamp, then switched the light off as they headed out of the room. He looked at Parker for a reaction, but didn't get one, so waited for her say something. This was Parker, after all--she had an opinion on everything. However, she quietly picked up the cider mugs and carried them into the kitchen. He sat patiently on the couch, waiting to the weather the storm. No doubt a lecture on forcing his Centre opinions on some impressable little kid. Parker walked back in, and stood in front of him, hands on hips.

"There's just one thing I want to know," she said, her voice deep and fully serious, no hint of humor.

"Yeah?"

"Who'd you make Brigitte into?" He looked up in surprise, and saw her crack a smile. I'll be damned, he thought to himself. She actually thought it was funny. "Well?"

"The evil witch," he grinned. They both cracked up laughing.

~~~~~~~~~

"If only reality were more like a child's devices."
-Rosella Jacobson

"Not to sound rude or--what am I saying? Parker, it's 11:30 at night, and I've been running after a hyper kid all day, not to mention dragging a 9-foot tree all over god's creation. Why do you insist on keeping me up?"

"Samantha's been up and down all night. I wanted to make sure she was asleep for good."

"Yeah, what was up with that? It's like she was checking up on us or something."

"She's eight--who knows? Anyhow, this is what I wanted to show you." Parker opened the door to her room and shoved Jarod in, shot a look back towards Sam's room -wishing she didn't insist on having the door cracked- and slipped into the room as well, securing the door behind them. Parker's hand moved along the wall in the pitch black room blindly, groping for the light switch.

"Aw, honey, you should've just told me you wanted to make out."

"Oh, shut up." Her hand finally came across the switch, and flicked it on. She brushed past Jarod, and opened the closet door, motioning for him to look in. He did so, and his jaw dropped.

"My faith in Santa Claus has been renewed."

"I found it in the storage room," she said excitedly, picking up the large dollhouse and carrying it to the bed. "With a bunch of other stuff to be sold at an auction." Her eyes slid to the side to look at him. "And you can rest your pretty conscience about all that burglary nonsense--I put $50 in its place on the table." Jarod continued to inspect the dollhouse.

"I still can't believe this. I mean, this fits the description of what she wanted exactly. 'Blue with yellow shutters and a black roof, two stories, eight rooms.' " he quoted. "Even has the same wallpaper and carpet she mentioned."

"I realized that, too. And then I remember the old price tag I saw on the bottom." Jarod lifted it and looked under.

"Summerset Toys, huh? I forgot that was a chain. Well, the mystery is solved." He looked over at her. "Now all we have to do is find a way for Santa to stuff a stocking."

"Enough thinking for tonight," Parker sighed, placing the dollhouse back in the closet. "I'm tired. We'll talk in the morning."

"Right, sleep well." Jarod headed to his own room, and she willingly slid into a nightgown, only to find it far too cold, and so changed into a sweatshirt and flannel pants. Turning the light off, she took the two short steps to the bed, and eagerly headed under the covers, only to jump right back out with a shreak of surprise. Reaching over and turning the light on, she glared at the culprit of her sudden shock--a giant wet spot covering the width of the bed. She touched it with one finger experimentally, and recoiled as it sent a chill up her arm and down her spine.

"Must be a leak or something," she murmured to herself, looking at the ceiling. She didn't see anything, but who knew with these old cabins. With a moan of self-pity, she gathered her pillow and a blanket folded up at the foot of the bed, and headed downstairs.

She shivered unconsciously as she tossed her things onto the couch, but ignored it. Parker didn't shout in alarm this time, but it wouldn't take long for a nagging discomfort to rise her from her makeshift bed. Patting the cushions, she wasn't at all surprised to feel the itchy presence of crumbs, covering every inch of the sofa. "Of course," she muttered.

The bed makings, pulled down to the floor, weren't even straightened out. She was too tired, and too annoyed, to be willing to move anymore. Her body, however, had other ideas, instantly tightening up as her skin came in contact with the frigid floorboards.

"No way," she insisted through clenched teeth. "No way is it this cold. We just put the fire out ten minutes ago!" She stood and went over to the thermometer. Upon reading ist dial, it took everything she had to not scream in sheer irritation. "45 degrees?! Who the hell turned the heat down to 45?!" She returned the dial to an acceptable temperature of 70, but realized -her eyes narrowing- as she turned back to her bed on the floor, that it'd take awhile to warm up. With a growl she didn't even attempt to suppress, Parker yanked up her pillow, kicked the blanket aside, and stomped up the stairs.

Parker threw open a door, stalked through, and pressed it shut behind her. She moved blindly forward into the room, unfamiliar with the layout, until she came upon the large bed, and ducked quickly under the covers, waiting to close her eyes only long enough to puff her pillow.

"Now this is interesting."

"The other bed is nowhere near large enough to hold two people. And as for the rest--don't ask."

"Good thing I live by a strict set of morals, or I could take advantage of this situation," he said in a humored voice, a low chuckle following. In reply, Parker hit Jarod with her pillow.

~~~~~~~~~

Sam heard Jarod's laughter, slightly muffled by the walls between her room and his (or theirs, as the case would be), and smiled at her work. It hadn't been easy, slipping the ice cubes under Miss Parker's covers without making any noise, or spreading out the cracker crumbs downstairs and getting back up to bed before Miss Parker left her room. Still, it'd been worth it.

With a sigh of satisfaction, she snuggled deeper under the covers and fell asleep.

Disclaimer: I don't own "The Pretender" or any of ist characters. Thanx for not suing! ~Oriana

~~~~~~~~~

Paper Snowflakes
Part IV
by Orinana


Jarod woke up early the next morning, too early in fact, and was only barely aware of his surroundings, or at least the soft arm comfortably wrapped around his chest, the hand coming to rest on the pillow, near his face. He'd smiled tiredly, not even giving the situation a second thought, and taken the hand in his before drifting back off to sleep.

Nearly an hour later, but still rather early, the door to Jarod's bedroom slowly slid open, just enough for a small face to poke through to study the results of last night's work. Grinning like the Chesire Cat, and quite pleased with her handiwork, Samantha removed her head and carefully closed the door.

It was the soft click of the door shutting that brought Miss Parker -always a light sleeper- out of her slumber. The first half second after opening her eyes Parker spent taking in the sight of her arm secured around Jarod, and oddly nice feel of his slow, warm breaths on her hand. The other half of that second was used to actually grasp the fact that it was Jarod, that her father would disown her if he should come upon this unique situation, and other Parker-appropriate reactions. And the next 30 seconds were spent slipping her hand from Jarod's, cautiously so as not to wake him -though his tight grasp proved him unwilling to let go, she noted wryly- and sneaking out the door, finding time to mouth 'Oh my god' a good few times.

~~~~~~~~~

"Why not seize the pleasure at once?
How often happiness is destroyed by preparation, foolish preparation!"
-Jane Austen


Back in her room, Parker changed into jeans and a navy blue cashmere sweater, checked the ceiling quickly for any signs of a leak, then headed downstairs to a cup of coffee and a couple of bangs of her head against the table. After all, she berated herself as the coffee machine went to work, there was a reason she'd slept as far from Jarod as a bed could possibly allow. Was it that she didn't trust herself? Of course not. When you worked at the Centre, the only person you could trust was yourself. So what was it? The situation, Parker decided, as she poured steaming black liquid into a mug and added creamer. She was too relaxed in this setting, though, she pointed out to herself for reassurance, she had agreed to play a part, for Samantha's sake. Still, she shouldn't have let her guard down too much.

"I'm a Parker," she muttered as she carried her coffee out to the dining room table. "It's not like a cold floor would've killed me."

"Hi," came a voice from her side. Parker looked over at the young girl and smiled.

"Hi yourself. Sleep well?"

"Mm-hmm." Sam took a seat and looked at her innocently. "Did you have a good night's rest?"

Parker nearly choked on her coffee, but kept her poker face in place. "Yeah, not too bad," she shrugged nonchalantly. A brief look of disappointment came and went on Samantha's face, too fast for Parker, absorbed with her own thoughts, to notice.

"So," Sam spoke up after a few moments of silence, "what're we gonna do today?"

"Well, I don't think Jarod or I have any pressing engagements, so you've got us all to yourself. Would you like to make a game plan?" Samantha wrinkled her nose in response. This lady was still too work-oriented. Parker laughed. "I'll take that as a no. What would you like to do?"

Sam gave a look of consideration, then replied, "I'd like to decorate the house. And," she added hopefully, "if the snow isn't too bad outside later on, could we maybe play outside?" Parker glanced up, at the large windows at the far end of the living room, and sighed. She'd checked on the weather on her way into the kitchen, and the rapid snowfall and blustery wind hadn't done much to lift her mood.

"We'll see."

"I'm gonna go change," she said, squirming down from her seat and heading to the staircase.

"OK." Samantha stopped, then turned around to face Miss Parker.

"Um, one more thing."

"Yes?"

"I know this isn't how you usually are--" Parker's eyes shot up from her cup. "--around people. Jarod says that it's because you have to be really serious where you work. But I just wanted to let you know that I'm glad you're just being you." Sam leaned her head forward a little, placed a hand to the side of her mouth, and added in a hushed voice, "And I think Jarod likes it, too." Another innocent smile, and she bounded off up the stairs, leaving Parker to stare in disbelief.

~~~~~~~~~

After breakfast (this time safely prepared by Jarod, in one attempt), the rest of the morning was spent decking the halls. Everything from paper chains to pine cones was utilized, and by noon the entire cabin was festive enough for even the worst scrooge -and yes, even Miss Parker- to appreciate. At first, Parker had done her best to avoid Jarod as much as possible, but soon realized that he remembered nothing of their nighttime cuddling, as it were. Nothing more than the usual grins and teasing only natural when someone like Parker unexpectedly crawls into your bed.

After lunch (again whipped up by Jarod), the girls volunteered to put away the dishes while he went outside to see if it was calm enough for Sam to play for a little while. He crunched around for a moment in the frosty air, seeing with dismay that the snow had now all but covered the tires of his car. Thankfully he'd had the presence of mind to keep a good layer of salt (courtesy of the garage) along the sidewalk leading to the house, or they'd have been stuck in the house for goodness only knew how long. He turned to go back inside, ready to tell Sam that she could play, since the snow was back down to the lazy fat flakes untouched by hurried winds, when a thought came to him. Jarod grinned as he reached down into the snow. Payback.

Parker heard the front door open, and looked up from where she stood reaching for one last cup, just in time to see the snowball coming right at her. The instinct to duck came one second too late, and though her face was saved a temporary freeze, the snowball made direct contact with the top of her head, covering dark hair with a layer of snow, which slowly fell off, only to slide under her sweater and down her neck.

Jarod and Sam burst out laughing, but his grin quickly disappeared as he realized that Parker was advancing with that look of a tiger about to pounce on its prey. With a humored shout of alarm, he ran outside, tripping on a random patch of ice that had escaped the salt, and sailing a few feet through the air into a snowdrift. As his head popped out, she started laughing, but as he jumped up she ran -thankful for the shoes she'd put on earlier- into the snow to avoid him. Samantha joined in the chase too, and soon it was a giant snowball fight, everybody running from each other, scooping up balls of powdery snow and throwing it at whomever they had the clearest shot at.

In the end, there was no clear victor, just three extremely tired people sitting down in the snow to catch their breath. With a sigh, Samantha made an imprint in the snow with her hand, and thought came to her. "Jarod, do you know how to make snow angels?"

He and Parker exchanged a small smile, eyes acknowledging some shared thought, before he broke the moment to answer Sam. "As a matter of fact, I do. Miss Parker was the one that taught me." Her eyes got wide, and Samantha stuck this little piece of knowledge away for use later on.

"Tell me about it?" she asked.

"Another story for another day," Parker smiled. She plopped back into the snow, and spread her arms and legs out, brushing them back and forth to create a snow angel. Jarod and Samantha did likewise, both in silence. As she continued to grow the angel's wings with her arms, Parker stared up into the cloudy December sky, and the flakes falling down towards her. Already, the flakes were coming closer together, and a small breeze was whistling through the empty tree branches.

"We should probably go inside," Jarod echoed her thoughts. They stood, all careful not to ruin their angels, and headed into the cabin, brushing snow from their pants and arms.

~~~~~~~~~

"So, did you have a good time today?" Jarod asked as he tucked the covers in around Samantha.

She nodded. "It was fun. And I can't wait for tomorrow--Christmas Eve."

"That's right. Are you excited?"

"Yep."

"Good. We've got a lot to do to get ready for Santa."

"I really like it when Miss Parker plays with us," Sam said suddenly. "She's great."

"She sure is. Anyhow, you should get some rest, so sleep well. We'll see you in the morning." He headed over to the door and flicked off the light, but was only half way out the door when Sam whispered his name. "Yeah?" he replied, moving back to her bedside.

Smiling, she leaned close, and whispered into his ear, "I know your secret."

"My secret?" he whispered back.

"Uh-huh. About Miss Parker."

Jarod bunched his eyebrows in confusion. "Miss Parker?"

"You know, that you like her."

"Of course I like her," Jarod smiled patiently.

"No, I mean really, really like her." His eyes widened in sudden realization.

"You mean, love Miss Parker."

"Right," Sam nodded happily. "But don't worry. Your secret's safe with me."

Jarod didn't reply, merely secured the covers more around the small child and walked out, making sure to leave the door cracked behind him.

Parker looked up as he stepped off the stairs and smiled. "She asleep?"

"What? Oh, yeah." She raised an eyebrow in question, but didn't comment. "So, what's on for tonight?"

"Well, we've got the gift taken care of. Now all that's left is the stocking stuffers. But I can't think of a single--hey!"

Jarod's head jerked up. "What?"

"What am I saying? I'm snowed in with the Pez Master himself. Jarod, you can't tell me there's no junk food in that car of yours."

He slapped his head. "Why didn't I think of that? Of course there is--Twinkies, Pez and HoHos. Oh, wait, no, nix the HoHos," he realized sheepishly.

"Why?"

"Well, we sorta ate the whole box on our way up here."

"Did she ever see the Twinkies or Pez?"

"Nope."

"Great. Well, that's a partial stocking. Now, I was thinking that maybe--" Parker's sentence was cut off by a short, high-pitched buzz, ending in mid-darkness, the only illumination coming from the stairway light and fireplace. They groaned in unison, but Jarod was surprised to hear her groan turn to laughter. He turned to her.

"Oh, come on," she chuckled, "like you don't find this funny." Her giggles were contagious, and it wasn't long before he was laughing right along with her. As their chuckles simmered down, they hunted around in search of a light bulb, eventually finding one in a cupboard in the kitchen. Now came the task of inserting it.

"No problem," Jarod insisted. "I'll just climb up on a chair, and switch the old one with the new one."

"I don't know," she replied dutifully. "If you fell, it doesn't seem very likely that I could catch you without breaking my back. Why don't I replace the bulb, and you stand by, just in case." Before he could answer, she was on her way to the dining room to grab a chair.

A few minutes later, Miss Parker was on the chair, on the tips of her toes, struggling to keep her balance while unscrewing the old light bulb.

"Careful!" Jarod laughed, amused at the sight. "Okay, got it?"

"Yep." She knelt down and they exchanged bulbs. Reaching back up, she tilted a bit side to side as she struggled with the light. Biting her lower lip, Parker reached her arm just a little higher, determined to get the bulb in. A tip a bit too much to the left for his liking sent Jarod's hands to her waist by instinct, but he stopped himself before contact was made, knowing how help of any kind annoyed her. Still, his hands hovered close to her body. Giggles arose again in Parker's throat as she glared at the empty socket.

Her eyebrows knotted with concentration, Miss Parker tried to lift herself up on her toes just a little further. Her blues eyes widened in surprise, however, as gravity suddenly seemed to turn against her. Only Jarod's quick hands kept her from a face-to-face confrontation with the floor.

They stood, his hands comfortably set onto her waist, looking up at the still-empty socket and laughing. Slowly, however, as their sights turned back down to each other, they both became aware of their actual position. Brown eyes met blue, and the laughter melted away.

"Umm..." Parker murmured, slipping out of his grasp.

"Oh, yeah," Jarod smiled uneasily, moving his hands to his sides. "Sorry about that."

"Oh, no, really. I mean, if you hadn't caught me, I'd be flat on the floor right now," she laughed uncomfortably. They looked away, and Parker sighed.

"You know, we can fix that in the morning," Jarod spoke up. "It's late. We'll find something tomorrow to fill the rest of her stocking."

"Yeah," Parker agreed, "all right." They headed towards the stairs simultaneously, reaching them at the same time.

"Oh, uh, after you."

"Thanks," she muttered. Silently moving up the stairs and to their separate rooms across the hall from each other, they both paused and turned.

"Um, 'night."

"Yeah, you too," Parker said, then hurried into her room. Inside, she changed into a nightgown, then thought to check the bed. No wet spot. She raised an eyebrow at this, but chose not to question it. Enough problems already.

~~~~~~~~~

Over in his room, Jarod stripped down to his boxers and slipped into bed, sure that sleep would make everything far more clear to him. It was as he was drifting away that Jarod suddenly realized he'd never denied what Samantha had said earlier.

Disclaimer: I don't own "The Pretender" or any of ist characters. Thanx for not suing! ~Oriana

~~~~~~~~~

Paper Snowflakes
Part V
by Orinana


Out in the cold winter morning, snowflakes sped to the ground, thousands of tiny silvery spots reflecting in early dawn's light. Inside the cabin, snuggled under thick covers, Jarod and Samantha slept on, oblivious to the woman sneaking past their doors. Parker, dressed in thick clothes and ready to face the weather, made her way downstairs, stopping to slip on her jacket, gloves, and a pair of boots before heading on out into the snow. Even though Jarod had laid down a fresh layer of salt on the walk just last night, already a thin layer had begun to form. She reached inside for the bag and tossed out a generous helping of the salt, then replaced the it before closing the door behind her and heading on to the car.

She'd woken up a few minutes earlier, something bothering her but unable to pinpoint what exactly. Then, it came to her--it was Christmas Eve, and they hadn't yet retrieved the PEZ and Twinkies from his car. The cabin was too small for Samantha not to be aware of someone going out to the car, and she'd be so wound up tonight that the slightest noise would probably send her running downstairs. And so here Parker was, barely awake, dying for a coffee fix, and cursing the fact that Jarod had his car keys. The way she figured it, if Sam hadn't seen that junk food, it was most likely in the trunk. She considered her options: either go back in, wake him up, and get the keys, or trudge through snow around the car to the driver's side, and find the button to pop the trunk open. In the end, she decided that forcing anyone else to get up at this god-awful hour was just far too cruel, and crunched around to the driver's side, thankful that Jarod hadn't locked the door.

The snow had already built up about half a foot against the door, but after a few minutes of brushing it away, she managed to get the door open, and found the trunk button without too much trouble. She pressed it, than looked behind her expectantly. There was no familiar click, however, and she shut the door then walked back, finding the trunk iced along the rim. A small groan escaped her lips--of course this would happen! Irritated, she slapped the trunk with a gloved hand. In an instant, the ice fell from the car and the trunk flung open, just inches away from knocking her in the face as it moved up. A surprised yelp sprang from her mouth; Parker slapped a hand over her mouth to prevent anymore noise, and glanced up at a second floor window expectantly. Sam had a bedroom at the back of the cabin, and probably wouldn't hear anything, but Jarod -a light sleeper- had taken the corner room next to the little girl's. After a few minutes, no head had appeared in his window though, so she turned her attention back to the matter at hand.

Jarod, however, had been yanked out of his sleep by the sudden sound, but had remained in his bed momentarily, struggling to clear his foggy mind and figure out just what the hell had woken him. Finally, he realized that the voice belonged to Parker, and had come from outside. Concerned, he peered out his window, just as Parker's eyes returned to the trunk. The relief that rushed up at finding her unharmed was overtaken by alarm as he saw her hand move towards a blanket in the corner, covering a large square-shaped object.

"Oh, no." He threw his door open and raced to the stairs.

Parker's hand clasped the wool blanket, curiosity rising in her, and pulled it towards her. A small gasp came forward involuntarily as she saw what was revealed.

The DSA case. She couldn't believe it. It was the silver DSA case. Her hand released the blanket, which fell forgotten to one side of the trunk, and reached out, touching the case carefully, almost reverently.

The moment came to an abrupt end as the front door swung open, a slight bang echoing as it hit the frame. Parker's head shot up, though her hand remained on the case. In the doorway stood Jarod, slightly breathless, looking at her, then the case, then her once again, never blinking, not speaking a word. As for herself, Parker seemed to have trouble clearing her head enough to think of something to say. The low whistle of the wind was the only sound, as their eyes met, but neither moved.

After what seemed to be hours, but realistically was probably just a minute -two at best- Parker's hand moved right, away from case, feeling around inside the trunk dumbly. Jarod's eyes moved slowly to the trunk, and when she finally came across a familiar plastic form, she picked it up, lifted it high enough for him to see.

"The stocking stuffers," she smiled reassuringly. "I wanted to get them before Sam woke up." Jarod nodded silently. Parker looked down into the trunk, gathering the rest of the Twinkies and PEZ, happy to find two unused dispensers-Casper and Kermit- among them, still in the original wrappers. Jarod felt an odd sort of pride -mixed with relief and surprise- as he noticed that her eyes remained on the small pile of junk food, never wandering to the case near her hands. She stuck everything into the deep pockets of her jacket and slammed the trunk shut, before stepping onto the salted path and walking up to the door.

"It's amazing we didn't manage to wake her up with all this noise," Parker commented as Jarod shut the door behind them. She kicked her boots off, peeled away her gloves, then headed to the stairs. "But she's got the right idea. I'm going back to bed." She looked behind her at him. "See you in a little while, okay?"

"Right," he smiled, "sleep well." He waited until he heard the sound of her bedroom door clicking shut upstairs, then moved slowly to the couch, sitting down with a sigh. It wasn't that Parker was changing, she was just letting her defenses down, finally allowing him access to the friend he missed so much, the good-hearted girl he'd all but believed was gone for good. And the case...she hadn't said anything, hadn't made any moves to take them. Not that he was complaining.

~~~~~~~~~

"Cleaning your house while your kids are still growing is like shoveling the walk before it stops snowing."
-Phyllis Diller


"It's Christmas Eve, it's Christmas Eve, it's Christmas Eve," Samantha sang in beat with her feet hopping down the stairs. As soon as her feet hit the floor, she was raced around the corner to the dining room, where Miss Parker sat drinking coffee. From past the swinging door came the sounds of Jarod preparing breakfast. "Good morning, Miss Parker," she smiled brightly. "It's Christmas Eve!"

"So I've heard," she laughed. "You excited?"

"Yep!"

"You know, I kinda ate the last of the Oreos the night you guys arrived. What d'ya say we bake today, so there'll be some cookies for Santa?"

"Yeah!" Her face clouded slightly. "Um, Jarod's helping us, right?"

"Oh, definitely."

After the last of the breakfast dishes had been put away, they went to work. One drawer had revealed a cookbook, as well as a pretty good selection of cookie cutters. While standing on a chair and digging through a cupboard she could've sworn held flour, sugar and other baking needs, Parker came across a few items that sparked an idea in her head, but instead of pulling them out, she pushed them further back into the cupboard.

"Hey, here's the flour." She grabbed the heavy, unopened bag, and turned to hand it down to Jarod, but it slipped from her grip at the last moment, hitting the floor with a solid thud. The air filled with the powdery white substance. Parker coughed sheepishly. "Good thing there's another bag."

****

An hour later, there was no sign of the spotless kitchen Jarod had left after making breakfast. Chaos was probably the best descriptor: egg shells lie everywhere, the sink was overflowing with dirty dishes, and they'd eventually given up on sweeping up the continually falling sugar and flour. Of the three, Parker was without question the messiest--flour was smeared all over her hands and face (along with a small dollop of green icing on the tip of her nose), and she'd gained three paper cuts from opening packages and turning cookbook pages.

"I'd say a shower is in order," she laughed. "I'll help with the dishes when I get out." She walked out of the kitchen.

"You know," Sam realized, "I wish we could give Miss Parker a Christmas gift." She looked up hopefully at Jarod. "Maybe Santa will bring her something."

"I'm afraid she's too old for him to bring her anything, but you're right, a gift would be nice..." His eyes lighted up. "Of course! I completely forgot!"

"What?" Samantha asked eagerly.

"You'll see tomorrow morning," he smiled mysteriously.

~~~~~~~~~

The weather was too cold to go out, and Samantha was far too hyper to sit still and listen to a story. The lack of stockings had been taken care by Jarod--they'd spent an hour decorating oven mitts with glitter and ribbon. After that, she was satisfied only with decorating the house more, hopping about, singing the lines from Christmas carols. Parker and Jarod busied themselves in the kitchen, looking around for Christmas dinner-appropriate foods for tomorrow, but mostly munching on cookies.

After a dinner of lasagna (Jarod, of course), she settled down a bit, and was content with sitting at the dining room table, cutting out snowflakes from construction paper, then taping them to the windows, while they put the dishes away. Jarod joined Sam after they finished, clipping at the paper and creating intricate designs. After grabbing yet another cookie from the kitchen, which Parker justified by the fact that they'd baked three dozen, she poked her head out the swinging door, and smiled at the sight before her. Jarod and Sam sat, side by side, laughing as they cut out two more snowflakes and added them to a growing pile. Parker sighed, closing the door. Jarod was going to make a wonderful father. She smiled, and grabbed another cookie.

As Jarod and Sam stood at one of the living room windows, taping up a few of their snowflakes, Parker snuck up to the table and looked down at their handiwork. One in particular caught her eye, with it's carefully cut design of six pine trees, surrounded by stars; a small smile spread across her
lips as she brushed it with her fingers, a memory filling her mind.

"Can we hang the stockings now?" Sam's question broke Parker out of her reverie, and she looked up to see them both looking eagerly at her.

Parker laughed. Jarod was getting into this Christmas thing as much as Samantha was. "Sure."

With a hammer from the garage, he got three nails into the fireplace bricks. With a huge grin, Sam hung all three stockings/oven mitts up, as Jarod and Parker clapped from the couch.

As Sam arranged cookies on a plate and wrote a note to Santa, the other two stood in the kitchen, waiting for the teapot to whistle. Jarod grinned, and reached into his pocket. "Hey, Parker, I've got something for you. Nothing special, I just found it in the garage."

She looked down at the small, construction paper wrapped parcel in his hand. "Jarod, I-I don't know what to say."

"Don't worry," he smiled, "you will when you open it." Taking it from him, she carefully removed the tape and peeled back the paper.

Parker burst out laughing. "I don't believe you! Coal?!" He joined in her laughter. Out in the living room, Sam turned towards the laughter coming from the kitchen, and smiled happily. Her eyes brightened in sudden thought, and she raced to the pile of construction paper on the table.

Two hours later, Samantha's head began to nod. Parker gently shook her awake. "Sam, sweetie, I think it's time for bed."

"I'm not tired," she insisted sleepily, sitting up r0esolutely.

"Santa can't come until you're asleep," Jarod pointed out.

"I'm ready for bed!" Sam announced brightly, jumping off the couch and dashing to the stairs. "Come on," she said, stopping and turning around. "He won't get here until we're all asleep!" Laughing, Jarod and Parker stood and walked to the stairs.

"Oh, wait," Sam shouted from the top of the stairs. She grinned. "Look above you." Both did so, and froze as they saw the paper mistletoe taped high up on the wall next to the stairway. Jarod coughed uncomfortably.

"Well, go on," the little girl urged, "kiss." Parker's eyes widened.

"Umm, Sam..."

"You know, I don't think..."

Sam sighed impatiently. "Please?" A small smile appeared on Jarod's face. Placing a hand on her cheek, he leaned closer to Parker, and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Happy?" he smiled up at Sam.

"Aw, nuts," Sam huffed, going to her bedroom.

"See you in a little while," Parker whispered, walking the rest of the way up the stairs. She didn't look back, and missed the perplexed look that passed over his face. As her door clicked shut, Jarod headed into his own room, and plopped down on the bed with a sigh. They'd agreed to meet up downstairs around one. Well, that gave him about three hours to figure out just what the hell had happened down on the stairs. Not that the kiss was any huge romantic moment, but Parker's lack of reaction bothered him. After all, he thought, irritated, it was their first kiss since they were kids.

Back in her own room, Parker sighed, and got under the covers. Mentally, she listed everything they needed to do downstairs, a distraction from other thoughts. However, a visual recounting of what'd happened just a few minutes earlier soon appeared in her mind, insistently pushing away the Christmas plans. She thrust her head under her pillow. "Don't even go there."

Disclaimer: I don't own "The Pretender" or any of ist characters. Thanx for not suing! ~Oriana

~~~~~~~~~

Paper Snowflakes
Part VI
by Orinana


Jarod lie on his bed, arms folded under his head, staring at the ceiling, lost in his thoughts. The walls suddenly reflected a dim green light, flashing on and off. Bringing one arm up and tilting his wrist, he winced as the green light from his Timex nearly blinded him. Turning the alarm off, he got up out of bed and left the room, then moved across the hall to Parker's room and gave one quiet tap to the door before entering.

Parker, who'd given up on sleep quite a while ago, smiled a greeting from the closet, then nodded for him to come over to her, whispering, "Help me with this."

Jarod took hold of the doll house, while she collected the junk food, and headed out the door. Parker stopped to turn out her light and close her door before tiptoeing down the stairs along with him. Once they made it to the first floor, both dropped their things then headed into the kitchen to talk.

"So," Jarod began in a somewhat hushed tone, "what're we going to do for the rest of her stocking?"

"I've got just the thing," she smiled. Wanting to avoid the noise involved with dragging a chair into the kitchen, Parker opted to hop onto the counter, using the advantage to reach the top cupboard. After a moment of rummaging, she began to toss things down to him. Jarod looked in confusion at the items in his hands.

"Pretzels, a bag of white chocolate chips, and two cookie cutters?"

"It'll work out great," she smiled, jumping down to the floor. "As long as we manage to keep the noise down, we can probably get this done in less than two hours."

"Huh?"

Parker sighed. "The cookie cutters are ones we couldn't find earlier--they're shaped like a man and a woman. We'll make gingerbread, and while they're baking we'll work on the pretzels."

"The pretzels."

"Right. Melt the chocolate chips, add a little food coloring, and use it as a coating for the pretzels. They're really good."

Jarod arched an eyebrow and grinned. "Who knew you could be this creative?"

"Who knew I'd be stuck in a cabin, awake at one in the morning on Christmas, playing Santa?" They both laughed. "Well, let's get started on those cookies. Thank goodness for the powdered milk and frozen egg substitute we found, or who knows what we would've done!"

Later, as a large batch of cookies baked and another waited to go in, they went about the tedious process of dipping the bite-sized pretzels, one at a time, into the melted chocolate, then laying them out on a piece of wax paper. They split the job in half, Jarod dying his chocolate green, and Parker dying hers red. They left a little over without coloring, and took turns dipping with the white later.

Parker's estimate wasn't too far off. Within two hours, six plastic baggies sat before them on the counter, three with cookies, three with pretzels, tied up with red yarn Parker had found in the storage room.

"Just put these into those makeshift stocking of ours, then on to the fun part," she smiled, leading him into the living room. On the fireplace ledge, above the oven mitts, was a plate of cookies and a glass of juice (when she realized there was no fresh milk, Sam had insisted on unthawing a can of frozen juice concentrate). Jarod drained the glass in two swigs, and the carefully arranged cookies were soon in their
hands. After the small snack, they took hold of the doll house once again, and placed it in the perfect spot underneath the tree.

Sitting down on the couch, Parker and Jarod admired their work.

"I had fun," she admitted after a moment, "playing Santa and all. I never thought I'd get the chance to do things of this sort, not after Thomas..."

Quiet filled the room, and it was several minutes before Jarod felt comfortable enough to speak up. "It's late, and I doubt Sam will take pity on us in the morning, and let us sleep in. Why don't we get some rest, hmm?"

"Sure."

Neither said another word until they reached their rooms, where Parker stopped and, never taking her eyes from the door in front of her, whispered, "I know this will sound odd, especially coming from me, but I'm glad you're here, Jarod." With that, she slipped inside her room.

~~~~~~~~~

"Miss Parker! Jarod! Miss Parker!" The door to Parker's bedroom swung open, and a small, very hyper child jumped onto her bed. As Parker shot up, Samantha began to bounce about. "It's Christmas, Miss Parker!" Parker smiled patiently -and tiredly- at the girl, although at this rate she might end up with a spot of motion sickness.

As abruptly as she was there, Sam left, running bare-footed across the hall to Jarod's room. "Jarod, Jarod! Wake up!"

A head slowly appeared from under the covers and stared bleary-eyed at Sam. "Huh?"

"Come on, Jarod!" Not waiting for a reply, she bounded out the room. He heard small bare feet race down the stairs, followed by the ecstatic exclamation, "He came, he came! Jarod, Miss Parker, Santa came!"

Sharing a knowing smile, they headed down the stairs. Next to the tree knelt Samantha, her hands moving eagerly through all the rooms of the doll house, and a large cookie in her mouth. At the sound of their approach, she looked up and laughed, one of the greatest sounds in the world, Jarod decided.

After they had taken their stockings down, both Parker and Jarod feigning surprise at all the goodies that lie before them, Sam finally moved away from her doll house, and sat down on the couch next to Jarod, leaning close and whispering something too low for Parker to hear.

"You think this is a good time, huh?" Parker looked at them in question, but Samantha would only smile. "Well, I agree. Back in a minute." He stood up and walked over to the tree, picking out one specific ornament. Parker gave the tinfoil star a quizzical glance as he handed it to her.

She realized that the star was rather heavy, and that the back didn't feel anywhere near as flat as the front. Turning it over, she discovered a small, square gift-wrapped package taped to it.

"What's this?"

"Your Christmas gift. Open it," he urged her. So Parker did, slowly undoing the slim silver ribbon and shiny blue paper, while Sam stood by, hopping up and down impatiently. A deep blue velvet jewelry box was revealed. Casting a raised eyebrow in Jarod's direction, she opened the box, and the smallest of gasps escaped involuntarily from her mouth.

"What is it? What is it?" Sam peered down into the box. "Ohh... it's pretty."

"Yes, it is." Parker lifted from the box a thin chain of silver. Dangling from it was a small delicate angel, no larger than a penny, made completely out of gemstones. A tiny round diamond created the head, and another, this one bell-shaped, created the body. The wings were sapphires, each cut somewhat like upside-down raindrops. She looked up at Jarod, and the jewels reflected the fireplace, creating dozens of small spots of light that danced about her face.

"It's beautiful. Where did you find it?"

"A couple of pretends ago," he admitted, taking the chain from her and bending back to hang it around her neck. It had been perfectly sized, she noted, fitting so well that the angel came to rest in the nape of her neck. "I spotted it in a jewelry store, and decided that it would make the perfect Christmas gift for you. I was planning on getting it to your house after I dropped off Sam, so that you'd find it when you got home, but..."

"Thank you, Jarod. This is one of the few gifts I've ever gotten that I've really loved." She meant it too. Daddy never gave her anything heart-felt, and it'd been awhile since even Syd had bothered to try getting her in the Christmas mood.

"I'm glad you like it," he smiled. A silence hung between them for a moment, and even Samantha sensed that there was something both wanted to say, but couldn't. Grown-ups, she thought, looking at the two. They have to make everything so complicated.

"The sun's finally coming up," Parker noticed, nodding towards the window. Sam ran over to it and looked out.

"Hey! The snow's stopped again!" Jarod's head jerked up. Sure enough, the first rays of sunshine were reflecting perfectly clear skies. There was a surge of disappointment, but he couldn't quite figure out why. You know, you just won't admit it, his mind retorted.

"Oh, shut up," he murmured under his breath.

Parker gave him a confused look. "Huh?"

"Uh, nothing," he mumbled, then stood and headed into the kitchen. "I'm gonna make some coffee." You see, came the voice as he was scooping grounds into the coffee machine, you're just as bad as she is. Rolling his eyes, Jarod focused even harder on the simple task at hand.

~~~~~~~~~

"The greater part of our happiness or misery depends on our dispositions and not on our circumstances."
-Martha Washington

It was just after lunch. Samantha sat at the dining room table, cutting out construction paper dolls for her doll house. Jarod grinned at her concentration, how the tip of her tongue stuck out between her lips. A lot like Parker, with the set look of determination on her face. Thinking of Parker, he realized he hadn't seen her for about 15 minutes now. Heading upstairs, he gave her door a quick knock, then went ahead and opened the door.

Parker sat on her bed, and she froze as the door swung open to reveal Jarod. He stared down at the gun in her hands dumbly, and she looked down at it as well, not even recognizing it at first.

"Jarod--" She stopped short, thinking of how to rephrase the question. Quietly, she suggested, "Better shut the door. Sam might see it." He nodded, a brief, weak attempt, and did so, but still didn't say anything. Parker cleared her throat, but her voice remained hesitant. "The weather's cleared up, and if it stays this warm, by t-tomorrow the snow'll have melted enough for us to leave." Her careful eyes picked up how his jaw tightened, and his eyes averted her. A sort of sad smile came to her lips. "You know, usually not a day goes by that I don't clean this thing, but since we've...I haven't touched it since I hid it from Sam."

"I'm glad." Barely audible, and somehow the kind of statement that made Parker want to run out the door, away from this conversation. It was so uncomfortable, like a confrontation, only there was no way for her to retaliate. Hell, he hadn't even raised his voice.

"Jarod, I--" He didn't even bother to listen to the rest of what she said, just opened the door, walked through, and shut it. Parker gave a wary sigh, and glared down at the weapon in her hand. Damn thing. It wasn't fair--that stupid weapon was always popping up at the wrong moments. Just like when Thomas had first seen it...

~~~~~~~~~

Parker had come downstairs a few minutes later. Neither mentioned the gun, but the thought of it hung between them like a brick wall. When Parker sat Sam down and explained to her that tonight was their last together, the little girl had started to cry. Not fun.

Sam continually refused to go to sleep. Around eleven, she finally nodded off in her bed, following a dry and generic story by Jarod. After being sure that she had enough covers, he crept out of the room. He had to stop and take a deep breath before heading down the stairs. He knew she was downstairs, and knew as well that eventually they'd have to talk about tomorrow. There was no sound when he reached the bottom level, however, and he saw with confusion that she wasn't in the living room. Walking through the dining room to the kitchen door, he popped his head in, but didn't see her there either.

As he turned and walked back through the dining room, he spotted her, with relief, lying on the couch, fast asleep. Jarod tiptoed past her, flicked off the light, and began towards the stairs. It was halfway up, however, that he stopped, a thought coming to him that he couldn't ignore. Walking back down and over to the couch, he knelt down, close enough to feel her slow, steady breaths on his cheek. After a moment of just intaking that sensation, he closed his eyes and softly kissed her, not on the forehead as he had earlier, but on the lips.

"Merry Christmas, Miss Parker."

~~~~~~~~~

Probably one of the greatest shocks of Parker's life was waking up the next morning to find Jarod a few feet away, taking down their Christmas tree. Everything in her had been certain that he would leave, disappear in the night like he did so well.

In a corner, near the dining room, sat Sam, with her knees drawn up under her chin and sniffling as she watched Jarod. Then, she noticed that Parker was awake, and both sat up at the same moment, the smaller running over and throwing her arms around the older.

"Oh, Miss Parker, I don't wanna go!" With a small sigh, Parker wrapped her arms around Sam's small body, and rested her head against the girl's. Samantha's crying grew louder, and she closed her eyes, feeling terrible guilt. Jarod stopped for a moment, feeling a tug as he watched the two, then turned resolutely to his work. Once all of the handmade-ornaments had been removed and tossed into a garbage can, he took the tree and went outside alone, dragging it to the one side of the house and allowing it to roll down the hill, into the woods.

While he was busy outside, Parker realized that Sam was out of her pajamas, dressed and hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. Looking around, she saw that everything was tidy, in fact, cleaned up, much like it had been the night she arrived. With the tree gone, there was nothing to show that three people had spent Christmas here. Even the snowflakes were gone from the windows. Giving Sam a small pat, she moved her onto the couch and headed into the kitchen. The dishes were cleaned and put away, everything sparkled. Upstairs, all three beds had been made, and only her own bags remained to be placed downstairs.

~~~~~~~~~

Three car doors slammed shut. Samantha stared gloomily out her window at the cabin. Up front, Jarod turned the key in the ignition, and everyone jumped at the sound of the motor starting.

"Well," Jarod said brightly, his tone so fake he wasn't sure why he was even bothering, "is everyone ready to go?"

"No," Sam retorted. Parker gave him a look--stupid question. He just shrugged, and turned the wheel, steering them down the driveway and away from the house. Jarod didn't feel like saying anything. He thought of the last few days, and the unexpected events entailed. He'd forced himself to accept the reality that they were leaving, had done every bit of preparation there was to do before one left a stranger's house you'd borrowed for a few days, and hated himself for it. He ran a hand through his hair, and tried to stay concentrated on the road he was driving on. Driving towards town...a town he'd yet to plot his escape from. The fact that he needed an escape, from Parker's clutches and the threat of return to the Centre, brought forth anger, and a sad sort of expectancy. When it came to that hell, some things just never changed.

But he didn't say another word, and neither Parker nor Samantha bothered to speak up. They drove on, in complete silence, towards Bloomfield, Vermont.

Disclaimer: I don't own "The Pretender" or any of ist characters. Thanx for not suing! ~Oriana


"I always felt that the great high privilege, relief and comfort of friendship was that one had to explain nothing."
-Katherine Mansfield

~~~~~~~~~

Paper Snowflakes
Part VII
by Orinana


Jarod parked the car, and all three got out, a grim lot—not one of the three was smiling. They'd arrived four hours earlier here in Bloomfield, and promptly called Sam's aunt to inform her of their location. She'd been quite relieved, and promised to be there in just over four hours. They'd agreed, promising to be waiting in the small town's only park, at a picnic table.

After the phone call, they'd walked up and down the cobblestone shopping area of town. No one had spoken of the inevitable, though the situation was without question having a greater impact on Parker and Jarod than little Sam. It would've been easy, maybe even fun, to pretend that all was well for a few hours, if it hadn't been for all the people coming up to Jarod, or more often Miss Parker, and remark on how "adorable their child was" or "what a picturesque family" they made. Near the end, Parker was so annoyed Jarod had to supress a smile--probably the first time during this entire excursion she'd had the desire to strangle someone (other than himself, of course).

The main accomplishment of their walk was a stop in the local Toys 'R' Us, to pick up some dolls for Samantha's dollhouse. Parker pointed out that they couldn't be outdone by Santa.

As their time wore down, however, even Sam's excitement over her new dolls faded away. Parker chastised herself for allowing the girl to grow so fond of her--she'd known it was going to be a tough goodbye. Jarod offered to stop off at McDonald's to get her a Happy Meal, but the little girl had insisted that she wasn't hungry. He couldn't really blame her, he was feeling just as rotten.

"I have to go somewhere," Parker spoke up suddenly. Jarod looked up at her questioningly--she was trusting that they wouldn't just leave? "I'll be back in a few minutes." He nodded, and she walked off.

Just as she was out of their sight, Sam asked him, "Jarod, what about you and Miss Parker?"

He was surprised at the genuine concern in her voice. "What do you mean?" You know perfectly well what she meant, retorted that voice in his mind. Quiet, you.

"Well," she started guiltily, "I guess you didn't notice but...I, sort of, um, tried to get the two of you..."

He smiled as realization struck him. "You've been trying to set us up, haven't you?"

"Well, uh, yeah, sorta," she admitted weakly. "You mad?"

Unable to hold it in anymore, he burst out laughing. "The sleeping arrangement that one night, and everything else--that was you, wasn't it?" She nodded, and seeing that he wasn't upset, puffed up somewhat with pride, making him laugh even more. "Oh, man, am I going to miss you." Instantly, her smile deflated and her shoulders sagged, and Sam looked up at him with puppy dog eyes.

"This sucks," she decided.

"Yeah, buddy, I know. But hey, at least we had this long together. And look at the bright side--no more cooking by Miss Parker." They both grinned at that, and though neither was quite in the mood for more laughter, the tension wasn't as thick.

Samantha's eye was caught by something behind Jarod, and when he turned to look, he saw Parker. She was in the parking lot, next to his car, leaning on the hood of a new black Ford Taurus. She gestured for them to come over, and they did.

Jarod looked from one car to the other, once, then again, knowing something but not quite sure just what it was that he knew. "Parker, what's--"

"It's my rental," she interrupted him. "I told them my other was dead and gone somewhere up in the middle of nowhere, and that they'd better get a tow out there before another snowstorm buries it 'til spring. It's another branch of the same rental place, so let them deal with it."

"But what about--"

"Your car?" she again interrupted him. "I figured you'd need a way to get out of this town eventually." His eyes widened slightly. So he's starting to get it, she thought. "Sam, why don't you go get your dolls, okay?"

"Sure." She skipped off towards the picnic table, and Parker tugged Jarod towards the back of the car.

"Parker...I don't understand."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I think you do. It's probably just that this is so unlike me, it makes your head hurt to think of it." He laughed, while she popped the trunk of his car and took out her things. Parker placed them on the ground next to her own new rental, opened that trunk, and loaded them. "There. That should make it about as clear as possible."

Jarod didn't say a word. This was a major action for someone like her.

"Jarod, I'm not taking you back." There, she'd said it. "After all that's happened, I figure I owe ya one." Parker made it sound so simplistic, as if it were no big deal. She didn't bother to explain either, but it wasn't necessary--one of the strongest points of this connection they'd shared since children is that they knew what the other was thinking, feeling. Words at times seemed more bothersome than helpful. She moved up to the front of the car, opened the door, and reached in and honked the horn. When Sam turned her head from where she'd been playing, Parker motioned for her to come over. Sam came running.

"Listen, kid, it's time for me to go." Sam's eyes immediately began to water. "Don't worry--it's not like it's forever, and besides, I'll make sure Jarod gives me your address. I promise I'll write." The first tear slid down the girl's face. "Now give me a hug." Sniffling, Sam did as she was told, throwing both arms around the woman's neck when Parker knelt down.

Jarod stood quietly by. Goodbyes were as sensitive a matter to Parker as they were to him. The difference, however, was that he treasured them, since he'd never gotten the chance to exchange them with his family as a child. Parker, however, dreaded them, and had learned to make them as short as possible, to avoid too much pain.

"I'll miss you," Sam managed through a choked-up voice.

With a quivering sigh, Parker whispered into Sam's hair, "I'll miss you, too." Finally, when her own eyes threatened tears, Parker stood. "Be brave, okay?" Sam nodded, sticking her chin out resolutely, then turned and walked back to where her dolls lie on the picnic table.

Now came the hard part.

Parker turned to where Jarod stood. How do you say goodbye to someone in a situation like this? Here was a man she had, in her lifetime, befriended, kissed, hunted. A handshake seemed almost rudely informal, a hug far to intimate.

In the end, she opted to do nothing. Merely got into her car and started the ignition, then looked up. "Goodbye, Jarod. Have a happy new year."

"You too." He'd barely caught her words. A sight had caught his eye, taking him off guard--on her neck was the necklace, with the small angel dangling in the exact spot he'd picture it at those few months ago. She was wearing it, actually wearing it. "Goodbye, Parker."

She smiled, that one heartwarming smile he remembered so well from their childhood, then slid a pair of sunglasses over her eyes and released the break. As she pulled out, Jarod made his way back over to Sam. The sound of a horn honking made them both turn their heads. On the road, Parker waved her hand out the open window, then drew back in the car and rolled up the window. As she drove off, they stood in the remaining snow, waving goodbye.

~~~~~~~~~

"Now this is a great one," Broots said, his eyes focused on the book before him. With a groan, Sydney set down the newspaper he'd been reading.

"Broots, I know Debbie was the one to give you that book, and I think it's wonderful that there are so many great people quoted in there--" He leaned forward across the desk to give emphasis to his words. "--but if you read just one more, I swear to god I will--"

"Hard at work, eh, boys?" a distinctly female voice cut him off. Broots straightened, and set the book to one side, Syd was grateful to note.

Parker moved towards the desk, dressed in a short skirt and high heels as always. It was Monday, and though just yesterday she'd said goodbye to two very important people, it was back to work. She smiled at Syd's thankful face, and was about to make a smart-ass remark when an irritating, all-too-recognizable voice from behind stopped her.

"This is a joke, right?" Rolling her eyes, Parker turned to face her brother.

"What now, Lyle?" He waved a sheet of paper -something she'd sent in about a week previous to her vacation- in her face, but quickly stopped when the expression on her face changed to a dangerously poisonous glare.

"You actually have the gall to ask the higher-ups that more of the work be put on my shoulders so you can concentrate on the search for Jarod?"

"Jarod is my work, you half-wit," she snapped. Where he sat, Broots' eyes widened as his eyes back and forth, back and forth, between the page in front of him, and Miss Parker.

"I'm going to fight this," he insisted.

"Whatever," she replied, rolling her eyes. "It's Monday morning, and I haven't even had any coffee yet. Frankly, Lyle, I don't give a damn." With an irritated huff, Lyle stomped off. Parker just laughed. "Can you believe that?"

"If it helps," Syd remarked earnestly, "I think you've been a wonderful job since arriving here. Considering the mind power you're up against, I'd say you've been more than successful here at the Centre." Broots' eyes somehow managed to widen even more, and a sort of small squeak escaped his mouth, but Parker missed it. She walked out, in search of hot coffee.

The interesting shade of red that his face had turned finally caught Syd's attention. "Broots, breath."

The balding man let out a hesitant puff of air, but his eyes didn't move from the book.

"Oh, all right," Syd gave up, "read me the damn quote."

Broots cleared his throat, and said meekly, "It was the Sister Mary Lauretta who said, 'To be successful, the first thing to do is fall in love with your work.' " He finally looked up at the older man. "But that's just a coincidence, right? A really freaky coincidence? I mean, you don't think..." Syd allowed a knowing smile to spread on his lips. Broots gasped. "You're kidding?!"

"I've suspected since they were children, to tell you the truth, but there's no actual proof."

"B-but do you think either one know? Miss Parker? Jarod?"

"I hope so, Broots," Sydney admitted. "For their sakes, I certainly hope so."

~~~~~~~~~~

Exhausted, Parker got home that night a few minutes past nine. By 9:30 she was eagerly climbing into bed--it didn't take long for sleep to take over her weary body. Slowly, she fell into a dream...

"Jarod!" a young brunette whispered down the dark air shaft. At her call, the small pretender appeared out of the shadows.

"Right here, Miss Parker," he replied, his voice showing his eagerness. "Ready?"

"Well, yeah," she said hesitantly, "but how're we gonna get past the outdoor security?"

"Have you forgotten who you're with?" he smiled. "Just follow me."

A few minutes later, they were gone, beyond the reach of the Centre's cameras. It was near midnight, and snow had begun to fall gently. Jarod had been the one to sneak them away, but Miss Parker was the one leading now, guiding him to a choice clearing with untouched snow. It was the last of Christmas day, and they'd decided to come out here to celebrate. Although Jarod was ecstatic to be outside the stronghold of the Centre, it was her that was more excited--Mrs. Parker had gone to care for a sick friend, and her father was as ignorant of her as always. She was getting lonely.

"Now what?" Jarod asked in confusion, looking around.

"We play," Miss Parker grinned, grabbing a handful of powder in her mittened hand and throwing it at him. He retaliated eagerly, and soon they were chasing each other, shrieking and laughing, appearing for the moment like a couple of normal children. Nearly an hour later, they'd built a snowman.

"He looks cold," Miss Parker noted with concern. She unwrapped her scarf, then wound it around the snowman's neck. A thought came to her, and she turned to Jarod. "Have you ever made a snow angel before?"

"No."

Her eyes lit up. "Oooh, we have to do that next, then. Here, watch me." She fell down in the snow and carefully began to brush her arms and legs back and forth, Jarod copying every movement. Both began to giggle as snow snuck under their clothes and tickled the back of their necks.

After finishing, Jarod suddenly realized, "We've been out here a long time."

"Oh no! We have to get you back." Impatiently she began to pull an unwilling Jarod in the direction of the Centre. Daddy had told her what happend to people that left when they weren't supposed to, and she didn't want any of those bad things to happen to Jarod.

Back at the Centre, they stopped next to a wall, where the air vent lie open. Miss Parker whispered, "Merry Christmas," then moved to head off.

"Oh, wait!" Jarod called at the last moment.

She turned back around. "What?"

He looked sheepishly at the ground. "Come with your dad tomorrow, okay? There's something I wanna give you."

"Sure." Then, on a spur-of-the-moment decision, she gave him a quick hug, then ran off.

~~~~~~~~~

"It is the friends you can call up at 4 a.m. that matter."
-Marlene Dietrich

The dream of that old memory faded away, as a continuous, annoying sound dragged Parker from her sleep. Snatching her cell phone from the bedside table, she ducked back under the covers with it, and snapped, "What!"

"My, but you're chipper this morning."

"Morning?" she echoed vaguely.

"Well, technically. It's about 4:30."

Parker groaned. "I promise to remember this the next time we meet."

Jarod laughed. "I bet you will. Well, in an odd sort of way, it's kinda comforting to know that the chase continues. Anyhow, I've given you your wake-up call, so I'll be going." Without another word, he hung up.

Perplexed, she deactivated her phone. He usually didn't wait until morning to call. "Whatever," she sighed, pulling back the covers. She was up now.

After she put the phone back on the table, she sat up, letting her eyes adjust to the dark. But soon she realized that it wasn't as dark as it should have been--a slight glow came from her bedroom door. Her open bedroom door.

"I could've sworn I closed that last night," she muttered, standing up.

After slipping on a silk bathrobe, she walked into the living room, where she was met with a big surprise. Outlining the ceiling, walls and doorways were hundreds of tiny white Christmas lights. On the coffee tables, on both sides of the front door, everywhere sat dozens of white candles, burning and filling the air with the scent of vanilla. And, in one corner, next to the window, stood a Christmas tree, beautifully decorated with blinking white and blue lights, and topped with an angel. Under the tree lie two packages.

Taking in the amazing decorating job that Jarod had done -there was no question this was his work- she moved slowly to the tree. Noticing an envelope in the porcelein hands of the angel, she reached up and gently pulled it loose. After pausing to sniff the fresh pine tree (she'd never bothered with live trees since Mom had died) she sat on the couch and opened the envelope, the lights and candles offering enough
illumination for her to clearly read the one line that explained it all: "You deserved a real Christmas."

After a few minutes of simply looking around her, Parker's curiousity finally got the best of her, and she walked over to the tree and sat down on the floor. There were two packages, one a large square box in red foil wrapping paper with thick silver ribbon, and the other a flatter rectangle box with the same ribbon, but green foil. NOT TO BE OPENED UNTIL AFTER THE SHOW, was written on the gift tag of the green box.

"What show?" she murmured, putting the rectangle box aside and reaching for the larger red one. Feeling the eagerness of a child opening her first gift on Christmas morning, Parker ripped off the paper and flung open the cardboard flaps, then impatiently dug past the few layers of green tissue paper.

After examining the contents of the package, and taking about five minutes to fully realize what he had given her, Miss Parker got her cordless phone and dialed Syd's Centre voicemail, knowing that it was only 5:00, and that he wouldn't receive her message for a few hours still.

When prompted by the computerized voice, she gave her message. "Syd, it's me. Listen, I'm going to be gone for a few days. I'm taking a little...trip. I'm not leaving my number -knowing my luck, Lyle'd get ahold of it- so anything important will have to wait until I get back Sunday morning. Happy new year, Syd. See ya soon." Putting the phone back, she hurried back to her bedroom. She only had about an hour to spare for showering and packing before she had to leave.

~~~~~~~~~

Parker awoke from her catnap, and glanced down at her watch. About half an hour until they landed. Smiling, she reached under her seat for the same square package, and began to sift through the contents: a brand new, handheld digital video camera; a roundtrip first class plane ticket; tickets to theaters and museum exhibitions; and two pieces of paper, one giving the information of her reservation (suite 6) and the other a poster detailing a major event.

>From underneath all of this, she withdrew a book, "A Millenium Guide To Paris."

~~~~~~~~~

December 31, 1999. 11:57. One of the most unforgettable moments of her life, without question. Here she was, just a few hundred feet from the Eiffel Tower, about to join well over a million people in ringing in the French new year. The air was thick with anticipation as the seconds ticked away, voices all around her laughing and calling out as the moment approached. This would go down in history, and she was here to experience it, thanks to Jarod.

Unaware of it, the camera in her hand activated.

And the moment came. Above the deafening crowd of cheering celebrators, the Eiffel Tower lit up, hundreds of lights and fireworks creating an unimaginably beautiful sight. Away from the careful Centre eye, Miss Parker was completely relaxed, just one of millions of people in Paris smiling, laughing, cheering, throwing confetti and streamers.

A pleased laugh, familiar to her, caught Parker's attention, and she looked about her, but didn't see Jarod among the ocean of people still cheering on the continuing fireworks of the Eiffel Tower. Finally, she realized that it seemed to be coming from down below, and only when she looked down at the camera in her hand did she understand. Jarod had souped up the camera, and probably had it linked up to a satellite, so that whatever his camera was shooting was directed to her viewing screen, while whatever her camera shot was sent to his.

Just under 250 miles away, standing on the center of a bridge, Jarod watched her experience the great moment and laughed at how happy she was.

Understanding, she moved the camera a little closer to her face, and shouted, so as to be heard over the noise, "Where are you?"

"London, right over the Thames River. We've got an hour to go here."

"This is amazing," she laughed. "Here, wait a minute." She swiveled the eyepiece around so that it was facing the sparkling Eiffel Tower, lit up against the midnight sky.

After taking a moment to observe what Parker had, Jarod spoke up, with a grin, "You know, there's supposed to be a big question of whether London's show will beat France's."

"No way!" Parker laughed, moving the eyepiece back to capture her.

"We'll see."

An hour later, Parker still stood in front of the Eiffel Tower. Her attention, however, had finally been drawn away from light show in front of her. Instead, she watched the spectacular fireworks exploding on the Thames, and the ferris wheel lighted up.

Eventually, Jarod moved the video feed back to his face. "Happy new year, Miss Parker."

"Happy new year, Jarod." The video screen went black.

~~~~~~~~~

By the time she'd gotten back to her suite, Parker was exhausted. She was eager to see what else Jarod had gotten her, but decided that it was better to be rested and fully awake when she opened it, so she could appreciate it more. Curling up on the canopy bed, she allowed the echo of celebrating voices outside lull her to sleep, while one finger unconsciously fingered the charm dangling from her neck...

Young Miss Parker followed a few steps behind her father. She was still young enough to show her intimidation by this place, and didn't like the idea of getting lost in the spooky and seemingly-endless halls. As they neared the elevator, Syd walked past, leading Jarod to a simulation. Without a word, the boy pretender slipped something into her hand, then continued on.

Miss Parker didn't look at it, but slipped it right into her pocket so that Daddy wouldn't notice. That night, though, as she lie in her bed, she took out what turned out to be an envelope and opened it. Inside, neatly folded in half, was a paper snowflake, carefully cut out with an intricate design of stars and Christmas trees. Miss Parker knew that even making the childish decoration was risking punishment if Jarod had been caught. She placed it next to her bed and fell asleep...

Next morning, Daddy came into her room to wake her. Seeing the gift, then finding Jarod's signature in his young, careful handwriting on the back, he'd taken it...

Unsure of where her gift had gone, but guilty that she'd lost it, Miss Parker was quiet as she entered her father's office. Then, as he pulled it out from a desk drawer, her face lit up. Furious, he'd crumpled it up and tossed it into the wastepaper basket, then grounded her for a week...

The unhappy ending to her dream woke Parker, who opted to open the gift rather than go back to sleep.

Sitting in a chair next to her open window, with a wonderful view of the lit Eiffel Tower visible even in the first rays of dawn, Parker slowly undid the ribbon and paper, pulled off the box top, and moved aside the layers of tissue paper. With a sentimental smile, she withdrew two paper snowflakes. One was the same she'd seen Jarod make just a week earlier, the one with the same design he'd used all those years ago. The other, signed by Sam in green crayon, was simpler, with hearts cut into the design, and covered in glitter.

She moved to put them back in the box, but realized that there was something else beneath another layer of tissue paper. Parker moved the tissue out of the way, and a small involuntary gasp came from her lips as she saw what lie in the box.

There, only slightly crumpled despite its age and the harsh treatment it'd once received, was the paper snowflake, with the message -in small, childish handwriting- Jarod had written out so many years ago:

To Miss Parker
Merry Christmas
Love Jarod.


Sequel: To Dance In An English Garden.