Disclaimer:  The Pretender and The X Files belong to their respectful owners.  No money is being made from this.  It’s all for good fun.

A/N: This story is somewhat of a crossover with the x files, but not really.  I’m borrowing these two characters from this certain episode of the x files and putting them in this story.  The prologue comes from the x files, I did not right this.  The two characters I’m using from this x files episode are Lyda and Maurice.  Prologue and certain parts of dialogue do come from the x files.

Prologue

Christmas, 1917.  It was a time of dark, dark despair.  American soldiers were dying at an ungodly rate in a war torn Europe while at home, a deadly strain of the flu virus attacked young and old alike.  Tragedy was a visitor on every doorstep while a creeping hopelessness set in with every man, woman, and child.  It was a time of dark, dark despair.

But here at 1501 Larkspur Lane for a pair of star-crossed lovers tragedy came from not war or pestilence—not by the boot heel or the  bombardier—but by their own innocent hands.

His name was Maurice.  He was a brooding, but heroic man beloved of Lyda, a sublime beauty with a light that seemed to follow her wherever she went.  They were likened to two angels descended from heaven, whom the gods could not protect from the horrors being visited upon this cold, gray earth.

Driven by a tragic fear of separation they forged a lovers’ pact so that they might spend eternity together and not spend one precious Christmas apart.

And till this day, rumor has it their ghosts haunt the old, condemned mansion here on Larkspur Lane every Christmas Eve.  Hoping to bring upon the same fate to other star-crossed lovers which they bestowed upon themselves.

Somewhere in Maryland

Christmas Eve

“Jarod!”

Stiffening at the voice, Jarod slowly turned around.  Across the distance stood a casually dressed Miss Parker, looking just as surprised as he was.  Tearing his eyes from her, he quickly scanned the densely populated parking lot.  He couldn’t spot any Centre personnel, but he didn’t want to chance it.  Instantly dropping his bags, he turned on his heels and ran to the woods that outlined the parking lot, hoping to lose Miss Parker among the trees and evergreens. 

It felt like an eternity for Jarod.   His lungs burned with each step he took, craving for oxygen with each haggard breath he breathed.  Behind him, he knew she was back there.  Even though he couldn’t hear or see her, Jarod knew she was there.  As much as he wanted to stop and rest, he just couldn’t risk it.  If Miss Parker came upon him, he wouldn’t have a chance of escaping her or the Centre.  No, he would just have to tough it out and hopefully get away before it was too late.

When Jarod reached a small clearing, he saw a large mansion sitting on top of the hill.  From where he was standing, it looked like the house was abandoned.  Maybe he could hide there until morning.  When he heard Miss Parker’s voice booming behind him in the distance, he quickly made up his mind.

His legs protested as he made the slow, treacherous climb up the hill.  The task wasn’t made much easier as the sky above him crackled with lightening and thunder, dumping a torrential downpour of rain all at once.

Jarod shivered as the cold rain permeated through his clothing, chilling him to the bone.  He never felt so miserable in his life, well, except maybe for the time he was kept prisoner in the Centre. 

When he reached the top of the hill, he slowly pulled himself to his feet, letting out a small, triumphant chuckle.  However, his delight was short lived as he heard a gunshot ring out through the dark, cold, rainy night.  Slowly turning around, Jarod looked down the hill.  At the bottom was Miss Parker, gradually making her way up the hill towards him.

Looking around frantically, Jarod ran to what would have to be his refuge for right now; the house.  When he ran up to the porch and tried the knob, he was surprised to find it unlocked.  Without giving it a second thought, he quickly let himself in.  For a brief second, he stopped, closed his eyes and let out a collective sigh.  Once he opened his eyes again, he looked around.

The house obviously hadn’t been occupied for quite some time.  Antiques and old furniture were covered with heavy, white cloths.  Looking up and around the foyer, Jarod could see cobwebs sparsely decorated among the walls, ceilings, and chandelier.   As he ambled over to a small mirror, he felt a slight cold breeze blow past him.  Thinking Miss Parker had entered he quickly turned around only to find the doorway empty.  Letting out a small sigh of relief, he turned back around, using his arm as a dust rag to clean off the dusty film of the mirror.

As lightening flashed within the house, Jarod gazed at the mirror.  He jumped at what he saw.  A skinny, frail, older looking woman, with curling grey hair, was standing behind him and smiling, clutching her white nightgown to her chest.  Thinking his eyes were playing tricks on him, he quickly turned back around only to be greeted with nothingness.  What the hell is going on here? He thought to himself. 

As much as he would like to investigate more, he had other pressing matters to think about, like finding a way to escape his huntress.  Jarod didn’t have much time to think as he saw a dark silhouette slowly making its way along the porch, gun drawn.  Quickly hiding among the shadows, Jarod would have to wait for his chance to surprise Miss Parker; hopefully their struggles wouldn’t cause her gun to go off, and killing one of them in the process.

His heart pounded in his chest as he heard the doorknob slowly turn.  When the door closed, he didn’t breathe, afraid even the slightest breath would give him away.  From his vantage point, Jarod watched as Miss Parker quietly made her way into the house, searching frantically for her would be prey.

“Jarod!  I know you’re in here!  Come out, come out, wherever you are!” she taunted.  Stopping at the foot of the stairs, she looked up the staircase.  “I’ll give you to the count of three to come down here, if you don’t, then when I do find you there won’t be enough doctors in the world to put your sorry ass back together when I’m done with you,” she yelled out impatiently.

Jarod couldn’t stop the slight grin that came upon his face as he heard the annoyance in her voice.  As he watched her, he could see she lost some weight since the last time he saw her.  In fact, when she turned her face in the general direction he was hiding in, he could see the tired look around her eyes.  Well, someone wasn’t sleeping well these days, he thought sadly to himself.  Her nightmares must be getting worse.

From his hiding place in the closet, Jarod watched as Miss Parker leisurely walked around the foyer, running her gloved fingers along the small table under the mirror he just dusted off.  Stopping in front of the mirror, she put her gun down.  Grasping the table with both hands, she leaned forward and said to the mirror sarcastically, “Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s the biggest pain in the ass of them all?”

Seeing that Miss Parker was becoming distracted with herself, Jarod seized the opportunity.  Grabbing an old coat hanger off the floor, Jarod flung it across the other side of the room, hoping to distract Miss Parker.  He smiled as it worked like a charm. 

Miss Parker snatched up her gun as she made her way to the noise.  So preoccupied with the noise, she didn’t hear the pretender sneak up upon her before it was too late.  Jarod swiftly threw his arms around her from behind, securing her arms to her sides.  As she struggled against him, Jarod held her more tightly against him, hoping to cease control of her struggles.  When she tried to kick behind her, Jarod moved to the side, spinning them around.  After a few more seconds, Miss Parker stopped.

Trying to ignore the pleasant smells that wafted from her he ordered softly, “Drop the gun.”

Miss Parker let out a wry chuckle.  “I don’t think so, Lab Rat.”

Smirking to himself he whispered in her ear.  “Still stubborn as ever.  Well then, have it your way.”  Keeping one secure arm around her, he let his free hand slowly roam down her back.  If he weren’t mistaken, there seemed to a hitch in her breathing.  Still smiling he whispered huskily, “Why Miss Parker, don’t tell me you’re enjoying my soft, gentle hand running down your back?”  He couldn’t help himself, he had to tease her.

“Please,” she scoffed, “The only reason I’m having trouble breathing is because you smell like a damn, wet dog who just rolled in a pile of his own shit.”  She tried to step away from him, but Jarod held her more firmly against his body.

“Ah, temper, temper, Miss Parker,” he chided lightly.  “As you can see, I’m in control of the situation.  Not you, but me.”  When his hand reached the bottom of her leather jacket, he pulled it up just enough, so his hand could slide up underneath.  When his fingers reached the soft fabric of her sweater, he leisurely glided his hand from her back to across her side before finally resting his hand on her waist.

“W…what are you doing?” she asked uncertainly.

He was surprised at how paralyzed her body was against his.  Jarod thought for sure she would be fighting him tooth and nail.  Sighing to himself, he rested his chin on top of her left shoulder, as if he done it a thousand times before.  “Well, if you must know,” he replied in a bored tone, “Since you won’t put the gun down, I’m afraid I’ll have to play dirty to get what I want.”

“I’m not going to sleep with you, if that’s what you’re saying, freak,” she responded back harshly. 

Jarod winced at her words.  “Miss Parker,” he began, “You know I would never force you to do something against your will.”

“Then what the hell do you want from me, Jarod?” she asked with annoyance.  “I’m getting real tired of your cryptic little messages.”

I want our friendship back, he thought sadly to himself, but if he did say that, she would most likely laugh in his face, calling him a moronic, pathetic fool for having such notions.  Instead, he pretended to ignore her question as he said, “Well, in order for you to do as I say I’m afraid I’ll have to use desperate measures to obtain my goal of you releasing that gun.”

“And how will you do that?” she shot back sarcastically.

“From something I learned about you when we were children at the Centre,” he replied back.

“And what might that be?” she asked curiously as she cocked her head to look at him.

Smiling down at her, he answered back, “If memory serves me right, you used to be very ticklish around your abdomen area and sides.”  Seeing the dreadful look in her eyes he added, “Lets see if you still are.”

“Jarod…” she warned.

Smiling from ear to ear, he began to tickle her mercilessly.  She tried to remain the picture of calm, but it didn’t take long for Jarod to pry the gun away from her hands.  As he pulled the gun away from her, he was surprised when she abruptly turned around, knocking them both to the ground.

As they both crashed to the ground, Jarod watched helplessly as the gun broke from his grasp, and slid across the dusty, tiled floor.  Before Jarod could get up and crawl over to get it, Miss Parker jumped on top of him, pinning him down to the ground.  Sitting up, she straddled him about the waist.  Roughly grabbing the collar of his shirt, she lifted his head as she placed a small pistol under his chin.

“Where did you get that?” he asked, nodding his head towards the pistol.

Smiling triumphantly, she answered back, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”  Pressing the pistol more forcefully under his chin she added, “I figured I should start following the Boy Scout motto, ‘always be prepared’.  And boy, did it finally come in handy tonight.”

Jarod swallowed down the lump in his throat.  “You won’t shoot me.”

Miss Parker pushed his head further back with the pistol.  “You wanna bet.  Just tempt me, and they’ll be scrubbing your gray matter off the walls.”

They stared at each for long agonizing seconds.  The room remained eerily silent except for the ticking of the grandfather clock within the foyer.  With saddened eyes, Jarod asked, “What happened to you?  What happened to the little girl that used to be my best friend all those years ago?”

Taken aback by the questions, she eased the pistol back just slightly, but still kept it trained under Jarod’s chin.  “You know what happened to her, so don’t play stupid,” she spat out.

“No, I don’t know.  You used to be so full of life, now you…you just get by.  It’s as if you don’t care anymore,” Jarod stated solemnly.

Dropping the pistol from his chin, but still clinging to his shirt she whispered out softly, “She died all those years ago…along with her mother that fateful April day.” 

Tears glimmering in her eyes, she quickly averted her gaze from him.   Jarod was at a loss for words.  Reaching out with a hesitant hand, he laid his palm against her cheek, hoping to somehow comfort her against the loneliness that knocked outside the confines of her fragile heart.  When she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, Jarod thought he could now die a happy man as she sought out the comfort he was trying to give her.

Feeling a little braver, Jarod sat up.  Knowing of the risk he was taking, Jarod took a deep, shaky breath.  Feeling slightly more confident, he cautiously wrapped his arms around her, hoping she could fine solace in his embrace.  When he felt her body began to tremble from her tears, he held her more tightly, trying to become her lifeboat in her sea of despair. 

As they held each other, from across the way two people watched them with curious eyes.  “I think we found our next star-crossed lovers,” the woman replied cheerfully to her husband.

He smiled at her words.  “I think you’re right dear.  Just think of all the fun we could have with these two,” he replied back in a mischievous tone.  “They seem even lonelier than the two FBI agents we had here four years ago.”

“This time we have to be successful, Maurice.  We need these two more than ever, so we can keep our reputation intact,” Lyda stated worriedly.

“I know.”  Casting one last fleeting glance at the two dark headed strangers in the foyer, Maurice turned to his wife and held out his hand.  When Lyda slid her hand into his, he smiled at her and said, “Well, lets get this show on the road.”  With that, they vanished into thin air.

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To Be Continued …