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


Silent Declarations II
by Nicky



* * * * * * * * * *

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

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

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

"What do you want?" she asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" she says.

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

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

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

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

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


THE END.









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