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Disclaimer: All characters and events in this story are fictitious, and any similarity to a real person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and unintended by the author. "The Pretender" is a protected trademark of MTM Television and NBC and the characters of that series are used herein with no mean intent or desire for remuneration. It is, instead, a tribute to innovative television, that rare and welcome phenomenon.
PLEASE NOTE: THIS STORY IS RATED NC-17 FOR MALE / FEMALE SEXUAL SITUATIONS
Jarod Who?
Part One of Five
Lynn. M Schumann
Boulder, CO
Jarod's eyes struggled to focus. He felt as if he were lying down, and as more of his senses started coming back to him, he realized the siren he heard wasn't following him, it was emanating from the vehicle he occupied.
There was a person, a woman, next to him talking on a radio, disguising what sounded like his vital statistics.
"The patient is now conscious," she reported, and waited for further instructions.
"Sir? Sir, can you hear me?" The woman asked, the concern evident in her voice.
Jarod tried to speak, but nothing came out.
"Do you know where you are? Do you know what happened to you?" She tried to get him to talk, but wasn't having any luck.
"Do you know your name or the date?" She saw the confusion on his face as he finally managed to answer.
"No."
She patted his hand reassuringly, "You were in an accident. It was a hit and run. You've had some trauma to your head, that's why you can't move it--we've immobilized you."
The words were registering with him, but he still felt more like an observer rather than a participant. It was if he were looking in at the man on the stretcher and the EMT next to him. Something was nagging him. He understood the words the woman spoke, even the diagnosis over the radio, but when he thought about her questions, did he know who he was, or the date, he couldn't grasp the information. It was on the tip of his tongue, but he just couldn't reach it.
"We're almost there," the woman smiled, "hang in there."
Jarod closed his eyes. Everything was whirling around. He was dizzy on top of not being able to remember the morning, much less any event prior to that.
The siren distracted him. He wanted to put his hands over his ears to shut out the sound, but he was unable to move.
"Try to keep still," the attendant said, pushing on his arms.
He felt the ambulance stop and the gurney he was on being pushed into a building, presumably a hospital. How did he know that when he didn't know his name or what had happened?
The EMT quickly relayed his condition to the emergency room staff as they wheeled him into a treatment room. He felt them lifting his body onto a table, then the world slipped away from him, even as he fought desperately to remain with the people around him.
* * * *
He was in a void. There were images floating around him. Faces he felt he should know, but he couldn't quite put his finger on who they were. A light appeared and grew larger and brighter.
"Sir? Can you hear me? My name is Dr. Canon. Do you know where you are?"
The doctor shined her flashlight into Jarod's eyes, checking the reaction of his pupils. As his vision cleared, he saw the woman standing over him. She had long wavy blond hair, and green eyes behind a pair of smallish glasses.
"Nice to have you back with us," she said, flashing him a beautiful smile.
Jarod melted. She was gorgeous. She continued to ask him questions as she checked his physical responses.
"How do you feel?"
"I'm not sure," he croaked. His mouth was so dry it was hard to speak. "Could I have some water?"
The nurse accompanying Dr. Canon held a straw to his mouth.
"Don't drink too fast," she warned, and pulled the cup away before he barely wet his throat.
"Do you remember the accident?" The doctor asked him.
"No, but the woman in the ambulance said it was a hit and run."
"Do you know your name?"
Jarod searched he muddled brain. "No," he answered, feeling the anxiety starting to rise within him at the realization that he *still* couldn't remember his name.
"You remember the EMT, but you don't know who you are, " Dr. Canon stated, trying to make sure she understood him.
"It's not unusual for the victims of a head injury to experience some amnesia, and it's almost always temporary," he told her, as if he were trying to calm *her* fears.
The doctor and nurse exchanged glances. "You want to run that by me again? You don't know who you are, where you're from, how you got here, and yet you can tell me about the occurrence of amnesia in post-traumatic head injuries?"
"Maybe he was a doctor," the nurse suggested.
"It's a possibility, I suppose," Dr. Canon agreed. "Any other memories that you're aware of?"
Jarod struggled to explain. "They're not memories, exactly, it's like I just *know* some things and can't grasp others. It's like looking at the world through gauze; some things you see clearly and others are hazy. My trouble is most of what I can 'see' is hazy."
"Well, it's like you said," she told him, "the effects are usually temporary. Try to get some rest," she advised.
"Doctor? What did you have to do to me?"
"You were a pretty big mess," she told him. "There was some trauma to your internal organs. Your spleen and liver, but we were able to repair the damage."
"And to my head," he reminded her.
"Yes, you've got a nasty lump and cut there, but the MRI's look good."
Jarod tried to relax. He knew physically he'd be O.K., once he had some time to heal, but he had this underlying feeling of urgency. That he didn't have the time to recuperate, but he didn't know why. Did he have a job to get to? A family? If he had a family, how could he contact them? Were they missing him?
Questions he had no answers for continued to plague him through the night. He looked around the room at the equipment monitoring his vital signs, and the I.V. steadily dripping medications into him. It all seemed familiar. He recognized the methods they were using to treat him, but he still couldn't get a grasp on who he was.
* * * *
It had been several days since the accident and Jarod was no closer to the answers to his questions than before. Dr. Canon continued to monitor his progress, and he had been moved from ICU to a semi-private room.
His room mate was a man named William Williams, ironically also a victim of a hit and run. He had a healthy sense of humor, if nothing else, telling anyone who'd listen that he was "a guy so nice, they named him twice." Sometimes the endless stream of one-liners got on Jarod's nerves, but for the most part, he enjoyed the company.
Dr. Canon entered the room and Jarod lit up. He enjoyed the few moments he'd had with her and hoped to get to know her better.
"Lookin' good Dr. C," William called out as she crossed the end of his bed to get to Jarod's.
"You're sounding pretty healthy William," Dr. Canon replied, picking up Jarod's chart. "Dr. Stevens tells me you're going home soon," she said, glancing up at Jarod with a look or relief.
"Now call me Bill. Yeah, so he tells me, but I don't know if 'everything' feels so good," he replied, his innuendo obvious to Dr. Canon, but completely lost on Jarod.
"If you'll excuse us Bill?" Dr. Canon said as she pulled the curtain around Jarod's bed. She knew William was practically falling out of his bed, straining to hear her conversation with his room mate, but at least he couldn't see them.
"Any luck with the memory exercises? She asked him, checking his I.V.
"Not really. The images are becoming clearer, but I don't know what they mean."
"No luck with your name either?"
"Sorry," he said, giving her a guilty smile.
"That's all right," she said, patting him on the arm. "Don't try so hard. How about a temporary one? I can't keep calling you 'John Doe' or 'Mr. X.' Pick out something that you'd like. You're in a unique position, you know."
"How's that?"
"Most people are saddled with what ever their parents give them. Take. . . for example," she said, pointing at the curtain towards William's bed.
Jarod returned her smile.
"Or my own parents," she said.
"Why, what's your name?" He asked, realizing in all this time he knew her only as Dr. Canon.
"Alicia," she admitted.
"You don't like it," he stated, somehow feeling her embarrassment over the designation.
"It's all right, I suppose. I've just never cared for it. So, what's it going to be?"
"I haven't really thought about it. How about J. . ., J. . .
"Jason?" She supplied.
"O.K.," he said, liking it because she had picked it out.
"All right. Jason it is. And today will be your birthday."
"Birthday?"
"You know, cake, ice cream, balloons?"
He looked confused.
"Maybe you don't remember. It's a party commemorating the day of you birth."
"But you don't know when I was born."
"That's why we'll say it's today. It's as good as any, right?"
"I guess so," he said, unsure how he felt about it.
"I've got another question," she said. "How would you like to help me with some research I'm doing?"
"I don't know," he answered. For some reason feeling anxious at the word 'research.'"
"I'm doing some studies in situations like yours. Post-traumatic Amnesia. I've got a few other people I work with and I can always use more data. Your's is one of the more unusual cases I've seen. You've got such a vast knowledge of some subjects and virtually nothing of others. Maybe together we can come up with some answers."
He liked the thought of working more closely with her and for that reason alone, he agreed to help her.
"Great! We'll start tomorrow, O.K.?"
"Sure," he said, suddenly worn out from her questions.
"Have a good night," she said as she slid back the curtain.
William tried to regain a casual position as the curtain was pushed back.
"You have a good night too, Bill."
"You betcha Dr. C," William said, trying to maintain his composure.
"Mmm Mmm," William said. "That is one fine looking woman."
"Yes she is," Jarod agreed.
"I think she likes you," William continued.
"I like her too," Jarod replied, having a hard time keeping his eyes open.
"You just let the Billmeister work on her. She'll be yours by sundown." William expected some sort of response from his room mate, but when he didn't answer, he continued to chatter on any way, as Jarod drifted off to William's recitation on plans A-C.
* * * *
Miss Parker paced the tech room floor. "Well?" She asked Broots, who was sitting before a computer.
"It's another dead end," he answered quietly, hoping to forestall the explosion he knew to be coming. Why did Sydney have to go on vacation at this of all times? He usually acted as a buffer between Miss Parker and the rest of the staff and he could really use his support now that they hadn't had a solid lead for three weeks. The funny thing was Miss Parker seemed to have accepted the reasons Sydney had for leaving at this particular time. Her usual "nothing supersedes Jarod" attitude had been put aside for him, and Broots wondered why. Obviously he wouldn't get the answers he wanted from her. Maybe he never would.
"Listen you techno-geek, a man like Jarod doesn't just vanish from the face of the Earth. Besides the clues he always seems to leave for us, whether false or not, there's usually *some* real evidence--accessing Centre files, contacting *someone* here." She looked pointedly at Broots.
"Don't look at me! Jarod's never sent me a message. You and Sydney are the only ones he contacts. Maybe that's where Syd is now. Maybe Jarod's contacted him and he's meet him some where to lead us away from him."
"Sydney hasn't heard from him."
"How can you be so sure? He's hid the truth before."
"Because I know!" She snapped.
"I don't know where else to look," Broots sighed.
"Have you tried the obvious? What do people do when someone 'normal' is missing?"
"Check the police database, the Internet, hospitals."
"And have you done that?" She asked, bending to lower her face next to his.
"Uh, no. Considering it was Jarod, I didn't think he'd be on anyone's list."
She lowered her voice even further. "Then I suggest you try it. Maybe Franken Boy's got himself into an accident. He's smart, not indestructible."
Broots swallowed. "I'll get right on it."
Miss Parker stood. "See that you do. I'll be upstairs when you've got something."
* * * *
A half hour later Sydney received a phone call at the Mount Pleasant Home.
"It's for you Sydney," the nurse told him. "It's a woman."
Sydney didn't have to ask who'd called, as Miss Parker was the only one who knew where he was.
"Hello?"
"We've got a line on your little experiment," she said without preliminaries.
"Good for you. You've been looking for a long time," he said, a trace of pride entering his voice, impressed Jarod had managed to stay hidden for so long.
"He was in a hospital in Boulder, Colorodo. Apparently a victim of a hit and run."
"Is he all right?" Sydney asked, genuinely concerned.
"All indications are he is. He's been discharged."
"Then he could be anywhere," Sydney said.
"I don't think he's running," Miss Parker told him.
"What makes you say that?"
"We found him through a missing persons bulletin," she said, taking credit for Broots' work. "He was listed as a John Doe. It seems he has amnesia."
"I see."
"Do you Syd? Do you know what this means? He probably has no recollection of The Centre or us. We can just walk in, claim to be his family and he's ours. No more games, no more false trails and a chance to correct your mistakes."
"*My* mistakes?"
"Come on Syd. You know you got too personally involved in Jarod's 'training,' we can remedy that this time. Don't you see what an incredible opportunity we have? Not only will the freak show be back at The Centre, but he won't have any memories of trying to fight us. It's a two for one special."
"Maybe he's lost his abilities as well," Sydney said, wondering what methods The Centre would employ to "reeducate" their star pupil.
"Well, you'll be there to find out," she told him.
"I can't go now. Jacob's taken a turn for the worse."
"And how do you think he'll fair when Mr. Raines finds him? I managed to cover your tracks quite well, Raines thinks you're getting some R & R in the Bahamas, but if you're not with me to get Jarod, he'll know something is up. How long before he puts two and two together and realizes I didn't suffocate Jacob that day?"
"You're position is on the line as well," Sydney reminded her.
"Don't even think about blackmailing me Sydney. I think we both have enough of a healthy respect of each others secrets and abilities to call a truce, don't you? I'll have a car there within the hour."
The phone went dead before he could respond. He hated to leave Jacob, but he also hated to leave Jarod alone with Miss Parker all the way from Colorado to Delaware. Who knew the amount of damage she could do to his psyche on a several hour plane flight.
* * * *
Alicia called out to her new border, "Jason! Dinner's ready!"
Jarod came out of the room she assigned him and gave her a sheepish look. "Are you sure it's all right if I stay with you? I mean what if. . . ."
"If you're married?"
"Yeah," he said, crossing his arms across his chest, leaning into the door frame.
"Then we'll have to assume your wife's a reasonable woman, who'll understand you needed a place to stay and I offered one. That we have a platonic, work related relationship, and. . ."
"Do we? Alicia, we've known each other, what, nearly three weeks, and ever since that first moment, I've wanted to do this."
Jarod leaned forward and kissed her. Alicia pulled back and tried to rationalize the situation.
"It's only normal you'd be attracted to me, I'm the first person you formed a relationship with after your accident and. . ."
He silenced her with another, longer kiss. "This feels pretty natural too."
Alicia stopped fighting. She'd wanted him too, practically from the day they met.
"Oh, Jason," she moaned. "What about your wife?"
"I don't have a ring. I think this wife thing is all hypothetical."
"I hope you're right," she said as she melted into his arms.
It was unclear who was undressing whom, but it wasn't long before the pile of clothing at the end of the bed was as intermingled as the bodies on the bed.
Jarod's hands and mouth were every where on her body and Alicia returned the favor.
"Oh," she moaned as Jarod eased into her.
"Am I hurting you?" He asked, unsure if her moan were from pleasure or pain.
"No! Don't stop!" She encouraged him. "Don't ever stop!"
Their cries of release rang out into the dark at the same time, leaving them breathless. After a few moments Alicia gave Jarod a quick kiss.
"That was *incredible*. Was it a memory or instinctual?"
Jarod suddenly sat up and moved away from her.
"Is that what this was all about? See if sex is a learned behavior or a basic human function?"
"No!" She cried, trying to touch him. "I was joking! I didn't mean anything by it! I wasn't analyzing your performance!"
Jarod tried to believe her, but the mood was broken. All the warm, loving feelings he'd had towards her seemed to evaporate like the sweat from his body.
Alicia saw the change come over him and silently slid from the bed. Without a word she headed for her shower. As the water streamed over her body, she began to cry.
Damn it! Why did she always have to ruin things? Couldn't she have just kept her little comments to herself? Of course that's how he would have perceived her jibe--he didn't know her well enough to know it was only her warped sense of humor.
Alicia stepped from the shower to find Jarod standing before her, holding a towel. Taking it from him and wrapping her tall, slender frame in the absorbent terry cloth, she looked up at him, several questions on her lips. He leaned forward and gently kissed them.
"I'm sorry Alicia. I guess after all the tests you and the other doctors have been doing, I'm a little paranoid. Forgive me?"
"Forgive *you*? Oh Jason, I'm the one who's sorry, making it sound as if the most incredible sex I've had was a lab experiment."
He kissed her again, tracing the path of a water drop between her ample breasts. When it reached her cleavage, he licked the drop from her, sending shivers to Alicia's toes.
She wound her fingers into his hair and pulled him closer as she let the towel fall to the floor. "Come with me," she said in a husky voice, pulling him into the enclosure. "You need a shower."
* * * *
It was nearly two A.M. when they finally sat down to supper. Alicia stood looking at the disaster that once was her stove. She had forgotten to turn the pot off and spaghetti sauce not only covered the enamel surface of the stove, but the walls, floor and even a couple of spots on the ceiling. She covered her face and just started to laugh.
"You think this is funny?" Jarod asked, looking at the red that covered the kitchen. "It looks like a murder scene."
"Yeah, and the victim is our dinner," she chuckled again.
"Why do you think this is so funny?" He asked. "I don't, not really. It's just the irony that is my life. I was going to make you this nice dinner, you know, make you feel at home. And look what happened," she said, spreading her arms wide.
"If it's any consolation, the welcoming committee did a bang-up job," he said, standing behind her and wrapping his arms around her.
"Well," she sighed, "I guess I better start cleaning this up."
"I'll help," he offered.
Within a half an hour they were sitting in the damp kitchen eating tuna sandwiches and potato salad out of a deli carton.
"Nothing to write home about, but at least it's filling," she commented, taking another bite of her sandwich.
Jarod set his down. "Yeah," he said, "where do suppose mine is?"
"Your what?" She asked, not realizing her statement had caused him to doubt again.
"My home. I could be from anywhere. You said it yourself, what if I had been a tourist or something? I'm probably not even from Colorado."
"I suppose that could be true, but what are the chances of that? I think you're probably from somewhere near Boulder."
"Maybe," he said.
"You know," she said, "I don't want to start talking 'shop' again, but I keep thinking there's something I could be doing, to help you regain your personal memories. Look at all the tests we've run. Your intelligence is off the scale, your aptitude tests as well. I mean you're a virtual walking encyclopedia, but you can't remember anything *personal* except for after the accident, and that you remember as if you've got a photographic memory. So why is it you can't remember a childhood? Parents? School? Friends? Or even more recent, a job, a wife, kids?"
Jarod ran his fingers through his short hair. "Don't you think I ask myself why? Could it have been so terrible that I just blocked it out? I had to have learned what I know *somewhere*, but why don't I recall it when I can recall everything you've said or done since I met you?"
Alicia reached over and took his hand. "Oh, Jason, that's so sweet! We'll get there. I know together we'll discover the answer to your questions. And if we don't," she said, "would this life be so bad?"
He took her hands and pulled her onto his lap. "Of course it wouldn't. If I never learned another thing about my past I could be happy here with you."
"Jason, you always know the right thing to say," she said, putting her arms around his neck, kissing him behind his right ear.
"Tell you what," she said, sitting up. "How about if I talk to someone tomorrow, or today, I guess it is now, about getting you a job at the hospital. No more tests or questions. We'll just take each day at a time and I bet your memories will just start coming back without you even realizing it."
"That would be great! I really could use something to do. I'm starting to go stir crazy."
"Then it's settled. We better get to bed if you're going to see about a job."
She left him at his door and headed towards her room.
"Aren't you coming with me?" he asked.
"I said we need some sleep. If I come in there with you, rabbit-man, we'll never sleep."
He smiled at her and kissed her good night. "All right," he conceded, "but you're not getting away this easy tomorrow night."
"Deal," she said returning his kiss.
"Alicia?"
"Hmmm?" She answered, halfway down the hall.
"Thank you for everything. I don't know what I would have done without you."
She smiled at his words. "My pleasure."
* * * *
Miss Parker sat across from Sydney on the Centre's private jet, nervously tapping her nails against her silver cigarette case, doing her best to resist the urge to open it up and chain smoke the entire contents.
"Why so quiet?" Sydney asked. "You've usually issued several edicts by now."
Miss Parker glared at him. "I'm working on a story for us to get Jarod and get out before anyone has time to ask too many questions. It would be easier if there wasn't so much chatter," she said, staring at him.
"What story? We're his family and we saw the missing persons bulletin on the Internet."
"Oh, you've got it all figured out. Are you his father? Uncle? Cousin? And what about me? Sister? Wife?" Miss Parker smiled at that . She envisioned the look on Jarod's face when she told him he was her husband. If he truly didn't remember them, it would be rather anti-climactic, but if he were the just faking the amnesia as part of he latest pretend, his reaction could be priceless.
"I think uncle and sister would be best," Sydney said. "After all, we look nothing alike and your. . .demeanor isn't exactly suited to marriage."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
Sydney was spared having to offer a euphemistic explanation as the flight attendant announced:
"We'll be landing in Boulder in just a few minutes, if you'll refasten you seat belts please."
"This conversation isn't over," Miss Parker warned. "Count on it."
Jarod Who?
Part One of Five
Lynn. M Schumann
Boulder, CO
Jarod's eyes struggled to focus. He felt as if he were lying down, and as more of his senses started coming back to him, he realized the siren he heard wasn't following him, it was emanating from the vehicle he occupied.
There was a person, a woman, next to him talking on a radio, disguising what sounded like his vital statistics.
"The patient is now conscious," she reported, and waited for further instructions.
"Sir? Sir, can you hear me?" The woman asked, the concern evident in her voice.
Jarod tried to speak, but nothing came out.
"Do you know where you are? Do you know what happened to you?" She tried to get him to talk, but wasn't having any luck.
"Do you know your name or the date?" She saw the confusion on his face as he finally managed to answer.
"No."
She patted his hand reassuringly, "You were in an accident. It was a hit and run. You've had some trauma to your head, that's why you can't move it--we've immobilized you."
The words were registering with him, but he still felt more like an observer rather than a participant. It was if he were looking in at the man on the stretcher and the EMT next to him. Something was nagging him. He understood the words the woman spoke, even the diagnosis over the radio, but when he thought about her questions, did he know who he was, or the date, he couldn't grasp the information. It was on the tip of his tongue, but he just couldn't reach it.
"We're almost there," the woman smiled, "hang in there."
Jarod closed his eyes. Everything was whirling around. He was dizzy on top of not being able to remember the morning, much less any event prior to that.
The siren distracted him. He wanted to put his hands over his ears to shut out the sound, but he was unable to move.
"Try to keep still," the attendant said, pushing on his arms.
He felt the ambulance stop and the gurney he was on being pushed into a building, presumably a hospital. How did he know that when he didn't know his name or what had happened?
The EMT quickly relayed his condition to the emergency room staff as they wheeled him into a treatment room. He felt them lifting his body onto a table, then the world slipped away from him, even as he fought desperately to remain with the people around him.
He was in a void. There were images floating around him. Faces he felt he should know, but he couldn't quite put his finger on who they were. A light appeared and grew larger and brighter.
"Sir? Can you hear me? My name is Dr. Canon. Do you know where you are?"
The doctor shined her flashlight into Jarod's eyes, checking the reaction of his pupils. As his vision cleared, he saw the woman standing over him. She had long wavy blond hair, and green eyes behind a pair of smallish glasses.
"Nice to have you back with us," she said, flashing him a beautiful smile.
Jarod melted. She was gorgeous. She continued to ask him questions as she checked his physical responses.
"How do you feel?"
"I'm not sure," he croaked. His mouth was so dry it was hard to speak. "Could I have some water?"
The nurse accompanying Dr. Canon held a straw to his mouth.
"Don't drink too fast," she warned, and pulled the cup away before he barely wet his throat.
"Do you remember the accident?" The doctor asked him.
"No, but the woman in the ambulance said it was a hit and run."
"Do you know your name?"
Jarod searched he muddled brain. "No," he answered, feeling the anxiety starting to rise within him at the realization that he *still* couldn't remember his name.
"You remember the EMT, but you don't know who you are, " Dr. Canon stated, trying to make sure she understood him.
"It's not unusual for the victims of a head injury to experience some amnesia, and it's almost always temporary," he told her, as if he were trying to calm *her* fears.
The doctor and nurse exchanged glances. "You want to run that by me again? You don't know who you are, where you're from, how you got here, and yet you can tell me about the occurrence of amnesia in post-traumatic head injuries?"
"Maybe he was a doctor," the nurse suggested.
"It's a possibility, I suppose," Dr. Canon agreed. "Any other memories that you're aware of?"
Jarod struggled to explain. "They're not memories, exactly, it's like I just *know* some things and can't grasp others. It's like looking at the world through gauze; some things you see clearly and others are hazy. My trouble is most of what I can 'see' is hazy."
"Well, it's like you said," she told him, "the effects are usually temporary. Try to get some rest," she advised.
"Doctor? What did you have to do to me?"
"You were a pretty big mess," she told him. "There was some trauma to your internal organs. Your spleen and liver, but we were able to repair the damage."
"And to my head," he reminded her.
"Yes, you've got a nasty lump and cut there, but the MRI's look good."
Jarod tried to relax. He knew physically he'd be O.K., once he had some time to heal, but he had this underlying feeling of urgency. That he didn't have the time to recuperate, but he didn't know why. Did he have a job to get to? A family? If he had a family, how could he contact them? Were they missing him?
Questions he had no answers for continued to plague him through the night. He looked around the room at the equipment monitoring his vital signs, and the I.V. steadily dripping medications into him. It all seemed familiar. He recognized the methods they were using to treat him, but he still couldn't get a grasp on who he was.
It had been several days since the accident and Jarod was no closer to the answers to his questions than before. Dr. Canon continued to monitor his progress, and he had been moved from ICU to a semi-private room.
His room mate was a man named William Williams, ironically also a victim of a hit and run. He had a healthy sense of humor, if nothing else, telling anyone who'd listen that he was "a guy so nice, they named him twice." Sometimes the endless stream of one-liners got on Jarod's nerves, but for the most part, he enjoyed the company.
Dr. Canon entered the room and Jarod lit up. He enjoyed the few moments he'd had with her and hoped to get to know her better.
"Lookin' good Dr. C," William called out as she crossed the end of his bed to get to Jarod's.
"You're sounding pretty healthy William," Dr. Canon replied, picking up Jarod's chart. "Dr. Stevens tells me you're going home soon," she said, glancing up at Jarod with a look or relief.
"Now call me Bill. Yeah, so he tells me, but I don't know if 'everything' feels so good," he replied, his innuendo obvious to Dr. Canon, but completely lost on Jarod.
"If you'll excuse us Bill?" Dr. Canon said as she pulled the curtain around Jarod's bed. She knew William was practically falling out of his bed, straining to hear her conversation with his room mate, but at least he couldn't see them.
"Any luck with the memory exercises? She asked him, checking his I.V.
"Not really. The images are becoming clearer, but I don't know what they mean."
"No luck with your name either?"
"Sorry," he said, giving her a guilty smile.
"That's all right," she said, patting him on the arm. "Don't try so hard. How about a temporary one? I can't keep calling you 'John Doe' or 'Mr. X.' Pick out something that you'd like. You're in a unique position, you know."
"How's that?"
"Most people are saddled with what ever their parents give them. Take. . . for example," she said, pointing at the curtain towards William's bed.
Jarod returned her smile.
"Or my own parents," she said.
"Why, what's your name?" He asked, realizing in all this time he knew her only as Dr. Canon.
"Alicia," she admitted.
"You don't like it," he stated, somehow feeling her embarrassment over the designation.
"It's all right, I suppose. I've just never cared for it. So, what's it going to be?"
"I haven't really thought about it. How about J. . ., J. . .
"Jason?" She supplied.
"O.K.," he said, liking it because she had picked it out.
"All right. Jason it is. And today will be your birthday."
"Birthday?"
"You know, cake, ice cream, balloons?"
He looked confused.
"Maybe you don't remember. It's a party commemorating the day of you birth."
"But you don't know when I was born."
"That's why we'll say it's today. It's as good as any, right?"
"I guess so," he said, unsure how he felt about it.
"I've got another question," she said. "How would you like to help me with some research I'm doing?"
"I don't know," he answered. For some reason feeling anxious at the word 'research.'"
"I'm doing some studies in situations like yours. Post-traumatic Amnesia. I've got a few other people I work with and I can always use more data. Your's is one of the more unusual cases I've seen. You've got such a vast knowledge of some subjects and virtually nothing of others. Maybe together we can come up with some answers."
He liked the thought of working more closely with her and for that reason alone, he agreed to help her.
"Great! We'll start tomorrow, O.K.?"
"Sure," he said, suddenly worn out from her questions.
"Have a good night," she said as she slid back the curtain.
William tried to regain a casual position as the curtain was pushed back.
"You have a good night too, Bill."
"You betcha Dr. C," William said, trying to maintain his composure.
"Mmm Mmm," William said. "That is one fine looking woman."
"Yes she is," Jarod agreed.
"I think she likes you," William continued.
"I like her too," Jarod replied, having a hard time keeping his eyes open.
"You just let the Billmeister work on her. She'll be yours by sundown." William expected some sort of response from his room mate, but when he didn't answer, he continued to chatter on any way, as Jarod drifted off to William's recitation on plans A-C.
Miss Parker paced the tech room floor. "Well?" She asked Broots, who was sitting before a computer.
"It's another dead end," he answered quietly, hoping to forestall the explosion he knew to be coming. Why did Sydney have to go on vacation at this of all times? He usually acted as a buffer between Miss Parker and the rest of the staff and he could really use his support now that they hadn't had a solid lead for three weeks. The funny thing was Miss Parker seemed to have accepted the reasons Sydney had for leaving at this particular time. Her usual "nothing supersedes Jarod" attitude had been put aside for him, and Broots wondered why. Obviously he wouldn't get the answers he wanted from her. Maybe he never would.
"Listen you techno-geek, a man like Jarod doesn't just vanish from the face of the Earth. Besides the clues he always seems to leave for us, whether false or not, there's usually *some* real evidence--accessing Centre files, contacting *someone* here." She looked pointedly at Broots.
"Don't look at me! Jarod's never sent me a message. You and Sydney are the only ones he contacts. Maybe that's where Syd is now. Maybe Jarod's contacted him and he's meet him some where to lead us away from him."
"Sydney hasn't heard from him."
"How can you be so sure? He's hid the truth before."
"Because I know!" She snapped.
"I don't know where else to look," Broots sighed.
"Have you tried the obvious? What do people do when someone 'normal' is missing?"
"Check the police database, the Internet, hospitals."
"And have you done that?" She asked, bending to lower her face next to his.
"Uh, no. Considering it was Jarod, I didn't think he'd be on anyone's list."
She lowered her voice even further. "Then I suggest you try it. Maybe Franken Boy's got himself into an accident. He's smart, not indestructible."
Broots swallowed. "I'll get right on it."
Miss Parker stood. "See that you do. I'll be upstairs when you've got something."
A half hour later Sydney received a phone call at the Mount Pleasant Home.
"It's for you Sydney," the nurse told him. "It's a woman."
Sydney didn't have to ask who'd called, as Miss Parker was the only one who knew where he was.
"Hello?"
"We've got a line on your little experiment," she said without preliminaries.
"Good for you. You've been looking for a long time," he said, a trace of pride entering his voice, impressed Jarod had managed to stay hidden for so long.
"He was in a hospital in Boulder, Colorodo. Apparently a victim of a hit and run."
"Is he all right?" Sydney asked, genuinely concerned.
"All indications are he is. He's been discharged."
"Then he could be anywhere," Sydney said.
"I don't think he's running," Miss Parker told him.
"What makes you say that?"
"We found him through a missing persons bulletin," she said, taking credit for Broots' work. "He was listed as a John Doe. It seems he has amnesia."
"I see."
"Do you Syd? Do you know what this means? He probably has no recollection of The Centre or us. We can just walk in, claim to be his family and he's ours. No more games, no more false trails and a chance to correct your mistakes."
"*My* mistakes?"
"Come on Syd. You know you got too personally involved in Jarod's 'training,' we can remedy that this time. Don't you see what an incredible opportunity we have? Not only will the freak show be back at The Centre, but he won't have any memories of trying to fight us. It's a two for one special."
"Maybe he's lost his abilities as well," Sydney said, wondering what methods The Centre would employ to "reeducate" their star pupil.
"Well, you'll be there to find out," she told him.
"I can't go now. Jacob's taken a turn for the worse."
"And how do you think he'll fair when Mr. Raines finds him? I managed to cover your tracks quite well, Raines thinks you're getting some R & R in the Bahamas, but if you're not with me to get Jarod, he'll know something is up. How long before he puts two and two together and realizes I didn't suffocate Jacob that day?"
"You're position is on the line as well," Sydney reminded her.
"Don't even think about blackmailing me Sydney. I think we both have enough of a healthy respect of each others secrets and abilities to call a truce, don't you? I'll have a car there within the hour."
The phone went dead before he could respond. He hated to leave Jacob, but he also hated to leave Jarod alone with Miss Parker all the way from Colorado to Delaware. Who knew the amount of damage she could do to his psyche on a several hour plane flight.
Alicia called out to her new border, "Jason! Dinner's ready!"
Jarod came out of the room she assigned him and gave her a sheepish look. "Are you sure it's all right if I stay with you? I mean what if. . . ."
"If you're married?"
"Yeah," he said, crossing his arms across his chest, leaning into the door frame.
"Then we'll have to assume your wife's a reasonable woman, who'll understand you needed a place to stay and I offered one. That we have a platonic, work related relationship, and. . ."
"Do we? Alicia, we've known each other, what, nearly three weeks, and ever since that first moment, I've wanted to do this."
Jarod leaned forward and kissed her. Alicia pulled back and tried to rationalize the situation.
"It's only normal you'd be attracted to me, I'm the first person you formed a relationship with after your accident and. . ."
He silenced her with another, longer kiss. "This feels pretty natural too."
Alicia stopped fighting. She'd wanted him too, practically from the day they met.
"Oh, Jason," she moaned. "What about your wife?"
"I don't have a ring. I think this wife thing is all hypothetical."
"I hope you're right," she said as she melted into his arms.
It was unclear who was undressing whom, but it wasn't long before the pile of clothing at the end of the bed was as intermingled as the bodies on the bed.
Jarod's hands and mouth were every where on her body and Alicia returned the favor.
"Oh," she moaned as Jarod eased into her.
"Am I hurting you?" He asked, unsure if her moan were from pleasure or pain.
"No! Don't stop!" She encouraged him. "Don't ever stop!"
Their cries of release rang out into the dark at the same time, leaving them breathless. After a few moments Alicia gave Jarod a quick kiss.
"That was *incredible*. Was it a memory or instinctual?"
Jarod suddenly sat up and moved away from her.
"Is that what this was all about? See if sex is a learned behavior or a basic human function?"
"No!" She cried, trying to touch him. "I was joking! I didn't mean anything by it! I wasn't analyzing your performance!"
Jarod tried to believe her, but the mood was broken. All the warm, loving feelings he'd had towards her seemed to evaporate like the sweat from his body.
Alicia saw the change come over him and silently slid from the bed. Without a word she headed for her shower. As the water streamed over her body, she began to cry.
Damn it! Why did she always have to ruin things? Couldn't she have just kept her little comments to herself? Of course that's how he would have perceived her jibe--he didn't know her well enough to know it was only her warped sense of humor.
Alicia stepped from the shower to find Jarod standing before her, holding a towel. Taking it from him and wrapping her tall, slender frame in the absorbent terry cloth, she looked up at him, several questions on her lips. He leaned forward and gently kissed them.
"I'm sorry Alicia. I guess after all the tests you and the other doctors have been doing, I'm a little paranoid. Forgive me?"
"Forgive *you*? Oh Jason, I'm the one who's sorry, making it sound as if the most incredible sex I've had was a lab experiment."
He kissed her again, tracing the path of a water drop between her ample breasts. When it reached her cleavage, he licked the drop from her, sending shivers to Alicia's toes.
She wound her fingers into his hair and pulled him closer as she let the towel fall to the floor. "Come with me," she said in a husky voice, pulling him into the enclosure. "You need a shower."
It was nearly two A.M. when they finally sat down to supper. Alicia stood looking at the disaster that once was her stove. She had forgotten to turn the pot off and spaghetti sauce not only covered the enamel surface of the stove, but the walls, floor and even a couple of spots on the ceiling. She covered her face and just started to laugh.
"You think this is funny?" Jarod asked, looking at the red that covered the kitchen. "It looks like a murder scene."
"Yeah, and the victim is our dinner," she chuckled again.
"Why do you think this is so funny?" He asked. "I don't, not really. It's just the irony that is my life. I was going to make you this nice dinner, you know, make you feel at home. And look what happened," she said, spreading her arms wide.
"If it's any consolation, the welcoming committee did a bang-up job," he said, standing behind her and wrapping his arms around her.
"Well," she sighed, "I guess I better start cleaning this up."
"I'll help," he offered.
Within a half an hour they were sitting in the damp kitchen eating tuna sandwiches and potato salad out of a deli carton.
"Nothing to write home about, but at least it's filling," she commented, taking another bite of her sandwich.
Jarod set his down. "Yeah," he said, "where do suppose mine is?"
"Your what?" She asked, not realizing her statement had caused him to doubt again.
"My home. I could be from anywhere. You said it yourself, what if I had been a tourist or something? I'm probably not even from Colorado."
"I suppose that could be true, but what are the chances of that? I think you're probably from somewhere near Boulder."
"Maybe," he said.
"You know," she said, "I don't want to start talking 'shop' again, but I keep thinking there's something I could be doing, to help you regain your personal memories. Look at all the tests we've run. Your intelligence is off the scale, your aptitude tests as well. I mean you're a virtual walking encyclopedia, but you can't remember anything *personal* except for after the accident, and that you remember as if you've got a photographic memory. So why is it you can't remember a childhood? Parents? School? Friends? Or even more recent, a job, a wife, kids?"
Jarod ran his fingers through his short hair. "Don't you think I ask myself why? Could it have been so terrible that I just blocked it out? I had to have learned what I know *somewhere*, but why don't I recall it when I can recall everything you've said or done since I met you?"
Alicia reached over and took his hand. "Oh, Jason, that's so sweet! We'll get there. I know together we'll discover the answer to your questions. And if we don't," she said, "would this life be so bad?"
He took her hands and pulled her onto his lap. "Of course it wouldn't. If I never learned another thing about my past I could be happy here with you."
"Jason, you always know the right thing to say," she said, putting her arms around his neck, kissing him behind his right ear.
"Tell you what," she said, sitting up. "How about if I talk to someone tomorrow, or today, I guess it is now, about getting you a job at the hospital. No more tests or questions. We'll just take each day at a time and I bet your memories will just start coming back without you even realizing it."
"That would be great! I really could use something to do. I'm starting to go stir crazy."
"Then it's settled. We better get to bed if you're going to see about a job."
She left him at his door and headed towards her room.
"Aren't you coming with me?" he asked.
"I said we need some sleep. If I come in there with you, rabbit-man, we'll never sleep."
He smiled at her and kissed her good night. "All right," he conceded, "but you're not getting away this easy tomorrow night."
"Deal," she said returning his kiss.
"Alicia?"
"Hmmm?" She answered, halfway down the hall.
"Thank you for everything. I don't know what I would have done without you."
She smiled at his words. "My pleasure."
Miss Parker sat across from Sydney on the Centre's private jet, nervously tapping her nails against her silver cigarette case, doing her best to resist the urge to open it up and chain smoke the entire contents.
"Why so quiet?" Sydney asked. "You've usually issued several edicts by now."
Miss Parker glared at him. "I'm working on a story for us to get Jarod and get out before anyone has time to ask too many questions. It would be easier if there wasn't so much chatter," she said, staring at him.
"What story? We're his family and we saw the missing persons bulletin on the Internet."
"Oh, you've got it all figured out. Are you his father? Uncle? Cousin? And what about me? Sister? Wife?" Miss Parker smiled at that . She envisioned the look on Jarod's face when she told him he was her husband. If he truly didn't remember them, it would be rather anti-climactic, but if he were the just faking the amnesia as part of he latest pretend, his reaction could be priceless.
"I think uncle and sister would be best," Sydney said. "After all, we look nothing alike and your. . .demeanor isn't exactly suited to marriage."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
Sydney was spared having to offer a euphemistic explanation as the flight attendant announced:
"We'll be landing in Boulder in just a few minutes, if you'll refasten you seat belts please."
"This conversation isn't over," Miss Parker warned. "Count on it."
