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Disclaimer: The characters Miss Parker, Sydney, Jarod, Broots etc. and the fictional Centre, are all property of MTM and NBC Productions and used without permission. I'm not making any money out of this and no infringement is intended.



Thoughts of the Other
by Sand





He'd never been one to skirt the truth. In knowing himself, he avoided his enemies, and gained strength. Still, the words did not come easily, even when he spoke the truth in his mind: I'm in love. How incredibly new and wonderful! It was as novel as his freedom had been, the day after he had escaped the Centre.

Jarod was sitting on a bench beside a lake, finding a rare moment of stillness as he watched a group of geese skid to a water landing. The sun shone in moving, speckled patterns through the trees above him, and Rachel was like that sunshine, playing across his mind. Solitude was a normal fact of Jarod's existence, and he was accustomed to it, but now he found himself wishing for her prescence, imagining her next to him.

For four years he had been alone, needing no one. Suddenly he had had the incredible luck of finding someone who more than suited him, and he was forced to keep his distance. Fear tempered his joy as he recalled those he had been unable to save. In his mind, he saw the image of Miss Parker kneeling at Thomas' grave: Thomas, who was murdered by the Centre, Thomas, his friend and Parker's love.

But Jarod's relationship could work, since Rachel could handle the darkness and fear that was Jarod's past. She could stand independent and unafraid, and love him. Above all, Jarod would protect her, but she could protect herself too.

His contact abruptly appeared on the trail by the lake, forcing Jarod's attention back to the job at hand. The approaching man was a distinguished-looking gentleman of perhaps 45, bespectacled, and wearing a tie and jacket despite the warm weather. Without making eye contact, he sat down next to Jarod.

"The information you requested," the older man said, placing a small briefcase under the bench.

"Good. I'll have the job done soon," Jarod replied.

"I expect so."

======

Rachel's life felt nearly out of control. Too many things had been happening too fast lately; the business with Marx, her brother's problems, the stress of her job, and, to top it all off, Jarod was popping in and out of her life. He was like a dream: he was the center of her world when he was with her, but he vanished completely in moments.

It had been a long day, but the red-haired felt no desire to go to sleep. How can I live my life like this? she worried. But heeding her instincts had seldom failed her, and right now her instincts told her that she could trust Jarod deeply. She remembered their conversation, and the almost tangible caring in his voice:

"You don't have full control of your emotions...".
"Does that matter?"
"It matters to me."


Still, she felt a feminine anger towards him right now. He had promised an explanation of his past, and had not given one. He showed up when she needed comfort, and offered her his love, but she knew so little about him! Why did he leave again? What is he afraid of? She was normally adept at controlling such thoughts, but then, Jarod was unlike anyone she had ever met.

Rachel stepped into the kitchen and filled a glass of water. Suddenly, someone knocked on her apartment door. The shock of the noise in her semi-awake state caused her to nearly drop her glass. She glanced at her gun on the table, hesitating, and decided to pick it up. The person at the door knocked again, more loudly.

Sliding the lock back cautiously, Rachel opened the door with her gun poised, only to find her friend Grace at the door.

"Grace," Rachel sighed, letting the tension ease out of her body. She had hoped for Jarod, and dreaded Marx. In either case, Grace was preferable company right now.

"Hey Rachel," Grace greeted her casually. "I brought ice cream and a movie. Wanna have a party?"

"I think you read my mind. Come on in."









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