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Metis and Athene
by P_Effect



Rating: PG-13 for dark images

Timeline: Right after Parker has been shot and Gemini has escaped-- Parker's out of the hospital, but Mr. Parker is still MIA with Bridgett.

Summary: For this was the child of Metis, who had been created from the essence of her mother, born without a womb or birthing, coming forth fully grown into Olympus. Athene, a soldier born from a titan.

Feedback: Good karma--

Archive: At fanfic.net, nicolette's, and anywhere else as long as I'm asked.



METIS AND ATHENE

And Zeus was overcome with an heavy head, causing him such pain that he called for Hephaestus. Placing the God's head on his anvil, the black smith swung his might hammer down and split it open. Out sprung a women, clothed in the garb of a warrior. For this was the child of Metis, who had been created from the essence of her mother, born without a womb or birthing, coming forth fully grown into Olypus. Athene, a soldeir born from a titan.




PROLOUGE


I live in Hell. With nice furniture, but Hell just the same. Devils around every turn, atrocities in every room, conspiracies in every corner...
Well, maybe not Hell, literally, but as bloody close as one can get to it without sitting down in Satan's lap. And if you wanna go down that road, you can consider most of the members of this Faux Hell part of the big red guy's harem.

There's a lovely thought: The Centre's made up of the Devil's bitches.

Hell, however, like everywhere else, can be manipulated to your will if you know what buttons to push. That was Ni's problem; he didn't know squat about his environment, and they took him away before I could teach him how to get what he wanted. He was raised to be controllable, and therefore, he was.

They screwed that part up when it came to me.

My Creator made me in the image of another; the image of a woman He desired, but could not have or face. He made me from Her--the proverbial rib of Adam's resulting in the creation of Eve. He got the Centre to fund Him with the promise that I would be more powerful, more glorious, more amazing than the original, and proceeded to make me in this manner.

He removed what He believed to be my weaknesses--the ability to feel any pain over a certain level and my fears of those around me. He created me anew, making me into the perfect soldier, the perfect assassin, the perfect weapon to destroy the enemies of the Centre. He made me too good too fast.

They cannot control me, and they know it.

Why, then, am I alive and not rotting at the bottom of their "MISTAKES" bin? Because I can make them untold trillions.
Ah, the delicious irony of my situation: held captive by the big bad Centre, but never controlled. They need me. I don't need them.
My Creator, however, was smart enough to give me some weaknesses--but was foolish enough to be the sole possessor of such knowledge. I have flaws and soft spots just like everyone else, but ones which He foolishly held inside, allowing only Himself knowledge, not even revealing them to me for fear I would comit some twisted form of suicide. An idiot, one too blinded by His own dreams to see the danger I presented to Him. The only one who knew how to control me, He dangled before me like a meat slab before a tiger.

He took a really long time to die.

It was glorious to watch; to listen to Him provide the retribution for creating me into bondage with His screams and howls of agony.

It was then that they put me down in various holes-- unsure of what to do with me except use me to run their petty simulations for them. They made the mistake of showing that they needed me; one which they have paid dearly for.

My cell in the Centre is made up of two large rooms, filled with carpeting, comfortable couches, chairs, and posters of bands that I have only been able to listen to on my diskman. Shelves full of literary works cover one wall, their contents ragging from Pinocchio to Silence of the Lambs, each one well read and loved in their own way.

A kitchen makes up the second room, the most extravagant of my demands. I refuse to eat that slop they feed me--I am perfectly capable of making my own food; actually edible food. And the counter--God I love that counter--is nice and flat and long, perfect for lying on while I contemplate my assignments.

Folders lie on it now--my work for the day, the simulations that I have completed without so much as a second thought or struggle. As I said, I can make them unknown trillions. I am fantastic at whatever I attempt, be it mental or physical. The woman I am molded after must truly be a force of nature.

I wish I could meet Her.

They designated me Kali, the goddess of destruction and rebirth. From what I gathered, my name was even made up from Her's, random letters plucked out of Her tittle in order to give me my own. I used to hate the fact that I was always going to be in someone else's image/shadow, but after discovering how uneasy it makes the Sweepers, I don't mind all that much anymore. Watching them squirm provides amusement. Amusement, in this place of idiots and cowards, is all I have left.

In this primal darkness and land of stupidity, I have met one kindred spirit to date. Unnamed by his Creator, they all called him Gemini. Short cropped black hair, pale skin (the artificial sunlight down here has left all the labrats with powdered features), and dark eyes. 'Ni was as innocent as they come--untouched, or perhaps ignorant of all the ugliness around him. He was a victim, like me, but he didn't seem to know that yet.
They never knew that I knew him--they wound have undoubtedly disapproved and begun the futile task of beating their orders into me (such an inconvenience to me), so I made sure they had no idea I found him. And after making him aware of what would happen to both of us, I got him to agree to the silence as well.

Ni, my one true friend. I met him in Donoterase at the age of four. My Creator had just left my room, and I, impatient for stimuli, went up to the air ducts to search for someone to bother. I came across another cell, just as dull and drab as mine, and dropped down into it, hoping that by this little game of hide and go seek, I'd cause some panic--the most entertaining thing to watch when it was held by the guards. I smiled at my own cleverness and brushed by hands off.

"Who are you?"

I whirled around, my muscles tensing, my fist raising and my legs bracing my body against the floor. A boy a bit older than me was sitting on the bed/slab in the center of the room, staring at me with dark eyes. It was the eyes that did me in; so dark it was hard to see where the iris and the pupil separated.

I found myself smiling up at him, realizing belatedly that I had dropped my defensive stance.

"Hi."

"Are you another project here? I never knew there were others."

I just smiled on, stupidly.

"My name's Kali, what's yours?"

He looked at me, and for a moment I thought he was going to call the guards in. But he just stared at me, like he had never seen something quite like me, then finally answered.

"I don't have one."

"Of course you do, everyone's got a name. I'm just an experiment, and even I have a name--you must have a name."

"They all call me Gemini."

"Ni, then."

"Ni."

"Yup." He contemplated this for a few moments, then smiled softly.

"I think I like it."

"Good--you should like your name-"

The panic alarm went off in the hall and I smirked softly. "Ah, its nice to have my work appreciated--shit." If they find me with him I'll never see him again, my mind yelled. Unacceptable.

"I gotta go. I'll see you later." I pulled myself up into the vent, sliding my legs in and reaching down to reattach the cover.

"Wait!" I paused and he came underneath me to stare up at the vent. "How will I find you?"

"I'll find you. You are right next door, you know."

And a friendship was born.

He used to rub my Sweeper caused bruises, not understanding that they caused me no real pain...but it was comforting just the same, to know that he cared about what happened to me. I used to do the same for his bruises, rare as they were, and with as much gentleness as I could muster, since he didn't have the luxury of apathetic pain nerves. I think he appreciated it; having me there and all. He was such a little gentleman--so polite and neat and kind. *sigh*

He had a really cute ass too.

And suddenly, one day, he was gone, without a word or note to me. A few weeks later, they moved me from Donoterase to The Centre, but I didn't see him there either. I killed my Creator in anger at Him and at TPTB for taking my friend. I prayed that in a search for retribution, they would take me to whatever bad place they were keeping him. I could make it nicer for him, and it wouldn't be bad as long as he was there for me. But they did not, perhaps out of spite. They handed me over to the doctors instead, and my life became the monotonous pattern of SIMS and scheduled activities.

I haven't seen him since, or anyone else for that matter, who wasn't wearing a white coat or a black suit.
And it hit me just the other day...God I miss him.



CH1


The bike roared to a stop, and Emily Russell peered out cautiously from behind the shades, one shaking hand on the gun in her waistband. Her father, Major Charles looked at her, then swallowed thickly and pulled his own weapon out.

"Go get Jack ready," he whispered to her, "just in case. And wake Margaret." She nodded and left her post, creeping down the hallway towards the bedroom at the end of the hallway.

Charles stayed by the window, watching through cracked blinds as two figures climbed off the bike and removed their helmets, their faces still hidden by the darkness. Making use of the limited light supplied by the street lamp, Charles analyzed them as best he could.

One was a full grown woman, dark brown hair, tall--looking like she'd stepped out of one of the dirty magazines he'd had as a teenager. The other was a girl of about 15, as far as he could tell, sporting the same brown hair and body design, but about a foot shorter. Both wore long sweeping coats that swirled like dark vampiric capes when they moved.

The teen looked up at her companion, her posture worried. Charles had spent enough time in the military to be able to read people even when they were silent, and quietly thanked his training for it. The glass muffled most of the sound, but he caught a few words here and there.

"Do ... think ... remembers...?"

"Sure ... does. You're... unforgettable, sweetheart."

"You ... sure?"

"Ab...lutely. You're... Parker blood."

The girl smiled widely and the larger one offered her a hand, which the teen accepted gratefully, and together they walked up the stairs to the door. Charles swallowed and went to it, his gun cocked and ready. A knock came, and he took a deep breath, cocking the gun.

Throwing the door open, he thrust the gun at them. The two of them recoiled slightly, then relaxed. The smaller one looked up at the woman he now identified as Miss Parker.

"What'd you do to piss him off?"

"I worked for the Centre. It doesn't really help the whole making friends process."

"Ah."

"That and I captured him."

"Ooh, that could be a reason too. You really need to learn to share these little tidbits."

"When we get out of here we can go to a bonding seminar, happy?"

"Ecstatic-"

"INSIDE," he hissed angrily, interrupting the banter between them. Parker and the girl obeyed, and he kicked the door shut behind them.

"Hands against the wall. Spread your legs!" They did as ordered, and the teen glared at Miss Parker.

"From now on you tell me everything. I came here to see my friend. Not get frisked by some old pilot."

"Chill your jets, Li. We'll be fine. And I tell you what is necessary information. Char's presence isn't necessary information."

Charles stood, more than slightly ruffled at being referred to as "Char." He held up the 9MM he had removed from Parker's waist, and the switchblade he had pulled from "Li's" pocket.

"Well, well, well. Miss Parker. What an unwanted and unappreciated surprise."

"Really? I'm quite glad to see you, actually." That threw him. Charles took a step back, examining them both for signs of tension. The little one was scowling at him openly, while Parker simply smiled, looking quite serene. Maybe she'd had a lobotomy. He'd heard it did wonders for the disposition.

"So you can take me back to the Centre in chains no doubt. Well, it isn't going to happen."

"Of course it isn't going to happen. Don't you people keep up with current events? I'm no longer working for the Centre. Been on the lamb for about a year now."

"Really. So what's the gun for?" Parker looked at him like he had grown a second head.

"Well, for shooting things. Duh." The girl let out a giggle, and turned to face him. She gave a wide smile, and held out her hand.

"Hi. My name's Kali. Can I have my knife back? Pretty please?"

"No."

"Oh. You sure?" He set his jaw firmly. This waif belonged in some sleazy beauty pageant, not in his living room bargaining for her switchblade.

"Positive."

Her foot shot out faster than he could see, kicking the blade from his hand and forcing him back. She caught the knife easily, and smiled at him. Parker retrieved her gun from the floor, and slid it into her holster. He gaped at the girl, who simply smiled.

"Who-"

"Dad?" Emily's voice was soft and cautious. Parker smiled.

"It's all right, Ms. Russell. I'm not here to cause any trouble. You can come out." Emily peered out of the doorway suspiciously, her eyes widening when she caught sight of Parker.

"Why, you're Miss Parker."

"That I am. But I go by Mikela these days." Emily looked at Charles.

"Can we trust her?"

"Hell no!"

"Yes, you can trust me," Mikela said with a roll of her eyes.

"No, we can't. You've been hunting my son for three years. And we can't trust this 'Kali' kid either. Who knows what kind of sick experiment she is. Probably a Centre trained operative."

Kali looked rather hurt, and looked up at Mikela. "Great. Now not only am I an experiment, I'm a sick experiment." Mikela gave her a reassuring smile.

"You are not a sick experiment. You're a gift. And you're quite possibly one of the only good things to come out of that place." She glared at Charles, her tongue working up the blackest venom it could find at the moment. "Char here is just very afraid of us. He doesn't have Wonderboy around to stand behind right now." Charles glared at her.

"I do no-" But a soft voice from the bedroom brought everyone into silence.

"What's all the noise about? It's too early for this. Why'd you wake me up Em?" Kali went stock still, her whole body quivering.

"It's him! It's Ni!" She whispered to Mikela, who smiled and pushed past Charles and went over to Emily, still standing in front of the door protectively.

"Let her in," Mikela whispered softly to her. "She's been begging me to find him for weeks. Just let her see him." Emily and her looked at each other, sizing each other up calmly. Then Emily sighed and stepped aside, allowing Kali into the room.

Pausing for a moment to allow her eyes to adjust, Kali took in the room. A few pictures hung on the wall, some self drawn and some taken. A chair sat in the corner, worn yet loved, and a maple dresser was against the West wall. The bed was huge and soft looking, cattycornered and facing the door. There was a quilt thrown over it, and a figure in the bed, blinking sleepily at her. She smiled widely in bliss, and once he recognized her, she saw him do the same.

"Kali," he whispered simply. She smiled and nodded.

"Hello Gemini." He grinned and she walked over, sitting down beside him on the bed.

"You found me... How did you get out of Donoterase?" Kali smiled softly.

"The Centre. I was transferred soon after you were for security reasons... My original version found me."

"So did you ever find out who you are?"

"Yep. Miss Parker Version 2.0." He chuckled softly, and she smiled. The door had closed behind Kali, and they listened to Parker's voice, soothing both Charles and Emily.

He looked at her, then lifted up the covers in invitation. She slid in next to him, resting her head on his chest and her arms around his waist. He smiled against her hair and gave a sigh of contentment.

"Missed you, Kali."

"Ached without you, Ni."

"It's Jack, now."

"Jack?"

"Sounded tough. Like I had a six shooter in my back pocket." She laughed.

"That it does."

"Have you changed your name?"

"No. Being named after the Goddess of Destruction and Rebirth is interesting enough, thank you very much."

"And here I was thinking you were named after Miss Parker."

"The two are not necessarily separate. She takes good care of me, Jack. Treats me like I'm her sister, not some experiment designed to replace her."

"Jarod does the same. They'd make pretty cool parents."

"Speaking of Wonderboy, where'd he go?"

"He's coming tomorrow. He found out that we had found Margaret, and he said he'd come immediately."

"Is Margaret nice? I haven't seen her yet."

"Yeah. She's nicer than Charles, but he'll get better once he gets to know you guys."

"Good. I thought I'd have to kill him when he insisted on frisking us." He chuckled and gave a deep sigh, nuzzling her neck.

"Ah, it's good to be here with you, Li." She smiled and yawned, burrowing into his chest and closing her eyes.

"And it feels damn fantastic to have you wrapped around me. You've grown sooooo much. But you still have these nice big arms." He smirked and hugged her tighter, closing his eyes and laying back.

"All the better to squeeze you, my dear."

"Which ever reference to pop culture that is, you'll have to explain it to me later. I haven't been out for all that long." He nodded, taking in a deep breath and relaxing his body. Waiting until he was sure she was asleep, he opened his eyes and thought of the situation he was now in.

He had Kali back; his best friend in the universe. She had escaped from the Centre and sought him out, sensing how much he needed her with him. Just like all those times in the dark halls of Donoterase, she had found him when he needed her, and come to help him soothe his wounds.

She had grown. His friend with the baby fat and skinned knees had changed. Breasts had sprouted where only ribs and skin had been earlier, and her feet against his calves proved both her height increase and the length of her legs. Her face was thinner, sporting cheek bones that were more defined and lips that had gone plump with time. The ratty brown hair that the sweepers had always been threatening to slice off had been plaited defiantly in a long braid that slithered down her back to where her behind gently extended.

She was beautiful, just as she had always been.

He gave a small sigh and stroked her forehead. Li had come after him, bringing with her peace and happiness that consumed his body with a voracious hunger. This had been what he had been missing all those months-- her by his side. He had needed her, had wanted her, had ached for her, and his body had pushed him into a state of anxiety in response to his subconscious desire. With this resolution, his inner balance would again be restored, and he could go on with life, happier, fuller, and with his best friend by his side. Such results were more prosperous, and such a solution to his problem would even out his chemical-

"Stop. Thinking." Kali's soft voice bit through his thoughts with a quick snap. He looked down at her, and she settled back into his chest, not opening her eyes. "It's fucking up my wa." He couldn't help himself. He laughed.

"You're what?"

"My wa. Doubayou, Aey. My balance and inner zen. You're thinking too much and fucking it up. Cut it out." He shook his head and smiled, closing his eyes and letting out a deep sigh.

"God I missed you."

"Ditto, Ni. Sleep tight."



CH2


"You guys really need to get out more." Miss Parker's comments early the next morning were greated with a glare from Charles, a smirk from Emily, and a laugh from Margaret.

"That we do. I've been cooped up in this house for ages."

"Once Wonderboy arrives and finishes his reunion moment, we'll go shopping," Parker promised as she searched through the cookbook. "There's a really great store about ten minutes from here where you can get a total full body makeover."

"Pampering is always nice. Do we have the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies?" Margaret pulled a bowl out, and Parker smiled, nodding and grabbing eggs from the fridge.

"And you guys have to come back to the city with us. You would love Chinatown; we'll be in time for the new year. Then I'll take you to Little Italy, and then out to this great Spanish restaurant-- El Quixote. Serves really fantastic lobster." Margaret hummed in appreciation, while Charles glarred at Parker.

"We don't have the money for lobster-- the Centre has trackers on all of our bank accounts." Parker smiled.

"Not all of them," she pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket and slid it over to him. He looked at it, then at her suspiciously, and she widened her eyes innocently, popping a chocolate chip into her mouth.

"Well golly gee wiz mister, the least The Centre could do is provide you with a sizable cash settlement for all the pain and emotional anguish you've gone through over the years," the innocent smile vanished, and Parker grinned wickedly, cocking an eyebrow. "My last unofficial act as a member of the Centre's ruling family." He picked it up and looked at the code for the account.

"We don't want your money."

"Well then, I'll send it back. No big deal." Margaret glarred at Charles.

"Charlie, Miss Parker has risked life and limb to come to us, and to ensure our security and safety from the Centre. You're being insufferably rude." He glowered and them both and stormed out of the kitchen, his hands clenched at his sides. Emily watched his retreating back, then jumped up to lean over the cookie bowl, grabbing some batter happily.

"Finally! If I got up I was scared he'd call me a traitor!" Parker laughed.

"I don't think he likes me."

"Nope. He hates you very much indeed."

"Ah. Well, at least he's openly hostile instead of plotting behind my back. It's a lovely change."

"Girls, girls," Margaret protested. "He does not hate you, Mikela. He's just unsure of himself and you. He doesn't trust you." Parker nodded in understanding.

"I suppose two decades of being his enemy will do that to a guy. Oh well." She swatted Emily's hand away from the bowl. "And if you keep that up, there won't be any left for cooking." Emily grinned and swipped another handful.

"I'll go wake up Jack and..."

"Kali."

"Ah. Very scary name."

"That's why she loves it. Don't touch her directly, alright?"

"Huh?"

"Very sharp reflexes. She nearly took my head off when I tried to shake her out of sleep. Though she did feel very bad afterwards... I think." Emily and Margaret looked at her in shock. "Well, it's hard to tell with that girl. Permanet smirk on her face."

A tired voice from the door came. "It is not permanet. You make me sound like the Joker." Kali padded in, her purple shirt and black jeans rumpled from sleep and her hair mussed gently. Margaret smiled widely.

"Why Mikela, she's a vision. I can see why you're so proud." Kali smiled happily at the praise, puffing herself up and thrusting her chest out like a cat. Parker rolled her eyes.

"Very cute."

"Thank you. Mm-- cookies first thing in the morning. Keep this up and the perfect teeth in my head will rot out."

"Hey, 's'not like I'm the one paying for your dental care. Rot away, kid." Kali grinned and swiped some batter.

"Where's Gemini?"

"Jack. Still asleep. Any idea where Jarod is?"

"Wonderboy. And no, he's still MIA." Emily looked at her. What good, she wondered could come of a carbon copy of Jarod's huntress meeting him.

"Why do you wanna see Jarod?" Kali shrugged.

"Well he influenced Kela so much-- and she talks about him ALL the time." Parker coloured.

"I do not."

"You do too."

"Not. And what would you know about it? You don't listen to me half the time anyhow."

"I do too-- and you talk in your sleep." Silence.

"You evil little bitch!"

"Damn straight-- I get it ALL from you." Emily laughed. Parker grabbed Kali and took hold of her ankles, holding her upside down. The girl squealed and Kela shook her playfully.

"Take it back."

"Never!"

"Now."

"That tickle-- no!"

"Right now."

Kali was quickly disolving into giggles, suspended upside down, with Parker blowing raspberries on her stomach. Jack yawned and came in, blinking sleepily at the sight.

"Um..."

Kali sqealed as Parker tickled her belly button. "JACK! MAKE HER STOP!"

He scratched the back of his head, then looked up at the clock on the wall. "Guys, it's only ten. Kali's head doesn't explode until three. And you're holding her all wrong for the blood to come out of her ears."

Parker laughed while Kali let out a shocked gasp. "TRAITO--" The rest was washed away by the giggled that spewed out of her mouth.
Parker eventually tired of the game, and lowered Kali to the floor. "Let that be a lesson to you."

"What, never stand within arms reach this early in the morning?"

"No. Always remember that whatever you try, I did it twice as devious, three times as long, and at half your age. I was a Catholic school girl. Clone assasins don't have shit on me." Kali gave her a pout, then grabbed some chocolate chips and tossed a few back. "You should probably wait until they're in cookie form."

"Why dilude the sugar? Y'want some Jack?" He smirked and shook his head, grabbing an apple instead.

"I prefer mine approved by the FDA as part of a balanced breakfast."

"Live a little. Right Kela?"

Parker clumped a ball of cookie dough onto the greased bake sheet while Margaret set the oven up. Neither one bothed looking up to answer.

"Exactly, kid." Parker agreed as she scooped out another handful. "Exploit each moment for all it's worth, cuz it could always be your last-"

A cold voice came from the doorway, accompanied by the sound of a gun cocking. "Which it very well might be, Miss Parker, if you don't give me a good reason why you're in my home." Parker jerked up, dropping the doughy mass back into the bowl. She took a deep calming breath and offered the man in the doorway a small smile.

"Jarod."



CH3


Jarod narrowed his eyes and pointed the gun at her chest. All in black, he looked every bit the part of the death angel, and Parker was brought back to the little excursions her masters had sent her on during her training. Trying to maintain her cool, which was rather hard she discovered, when one was wearing a KISS ME I'M IRISH apron, Parker linked her hands in front of her.

"Lovely to see you again."

"Wish it was mutual. What happened Parker? The rich mafiosa decide he wanted a different gooma? Or did you decide he didn't have enough money?" Parker sighed and rolled her eyes, using the move to catch a glimpse at the room around her.

Kali was nowhere in sight. Parker felt her heart rate increase and prayed to whatever deity that listed to her that her mini-me wasn't planning something stupid.

"Can't you even recognize a cover story when you hear one? You really think I would run off with a man from the Italian mob? Yakuza, maybe, even Triad, but Mafia? I have much more class than that." Jarod had a small vein in his forehead that popped out when he got mad. Right now it was glowing red. Parker hoped Jarod hadn't suddenly developed heat ray vision.

"You come to my home, terrorize my fam-" Margaret sighed.

"Jarod, darling, she has been nothing but a perfect lady since she arrived here late last night." Jarod looked longingly over to her, but kept his gun trained on Parker.

"She's a Parker, mom, she could con a snake oil sales man into believing anything she wanted." Jarod's legs were spread slightly apart, one arm at his side. Parker saw the scenario unfold before her eyes.

Kali was not going to be in hidding for much longe-

A burst of purple came, and Parker moved quickly foward, ready and able. Kali's slender hand went to grab the back of Jarod's neck, yanking it back and using her full weight on it kicking his knees at the same time to knock his feet out from under him. Parker's boot was against his trachea in a second, pushing the air out from his lungs and enabling Kali to use her free hand to grab the gun.

Jarod was left on the floor, panting heavily, while two triumphant Parker's stood back and took up neutral positions. Kali removed the clip and put the safety on, then looked over at Jarod angrily.

"There are three rules in my presence that you would do well to follow. NEVER insult my sister. NEVER insult me. And the next time to decide to go pointing guns at people, try and be sure you know exactly who you're pointing them at."

Jarod stared up at her fuzzily, his lips parted. "Woah... You're..."

"The name's Kali, Wonderboy. Now go over and show your mother some love, and leave me and my blood to our cookies. 'Kay?" She retreated behind the counter, digging her hands into the batter.

Several minutes of hugs and hellos later, Jarod regained enough rational thought to examine the pair before him. "You're a clone."

"Gee, you really must be a genius."

"You're Parker's clone." Parker rolled her eyes.

"The great mind at work, Kali. Try and follow the thought process."

"Woah." Jack burst out laughing, surrendering to the amusement that had bubbled up inside him after watching these three go at it for the past twenty minutes.

"You're my own personal Robin Willamses." Kali glared and threw a chocolate chip at him.

"I am not that hairy."

"Well, you've yet to show me your back. How can I be sure? You could be little Miss Yetti."

"Shut up."

"Yetti, yetti, yetti!"

"I can snap your neck from here, puny mortal!"

"Bring it La Femme Nikali!"

Jarod cleared his throat and Parker sent her compatriot a warning glance. "As, ahem, intetesting as this is, I have a few questions for the two of you, Parker and..."

"Kali."

"Oh. That's kinda... um, yeah." Parker laughed and slid the cookie tray into the oven.

"Ask away, Wonderboy. We'll do our best to answer, won't we Li?"

"Do I have to?"

"Yes."

"All right." Jarod shook his head ruefully at the verbal tenis match, then sighed and posed his first question.

"Why are you here?"

"To see Jack. Kali missed him. She asked for him."

Jack puffed his chest out. "I feel speeeeeeeecial!"

Kali rolled her eyes. "You're not." Jarod nodded slowly.

"Alright. So, uh, if you don't mind me asking, what's the deal with the whole clone thing?" Kali looked at him, one brow arched.

"I don't know. What's the deal with the whole 'pretender' thing?"

"Fair enough. How'd you meet?" Kali and Parker looked at each other.

"Jeez, I wasn't expecting that one."

"You wanna tell it or should I?" Parker sighed.

"I'll do it. Just feel free to interject anytime."

"Won't be a problem."



CH4


The folders were manilla and thick, heavy with papers and sin. Words that were written in ebony ink, signatures penned in blue; all equivalent to the blood of angels slaughtered on a satanic alter. But then again, Miss Parker reflected, that's how the Centre liked their projects--full of evil and darkness, their futures' sealed in the blood of the innocent.

Melodramatic, a little voice inside her accused, the one she identified as self doubt--the same voice that forced her to listen to all of her father's excuses when he let her down. He probably had a perfectly good reason for all of this, and he kept it from you so as not to hurt you.
He's a liar, Catherine hissed. He's a no good, rotten liar who's using you and who always has.

But Daddy wouldn't do this, Mikela's 6 year old voice whimpered as she played with one of her braids. Daddy loves me.

"Great, now even my schizophrenia is arguing with me."

Leaning back against the wall of the elevator, Parker gave a bone weary sigh, the papers pressed against her chest possessively. The truth--she clung to it like a mother would a child, refusing to give even an inch of it back to the jaws of the men who she took it from.

A mother and child. Well, she thought with a grimace, that was one way to look at it.

It had been naive for her not to think of it sooner, she realized now. It had been done once--scores of years and untold millions spent in preparation for it...

It was stupid of her to think it had been a one time deal.

She'd grown over confident; forgotten her training and all those hours they had beaten the rules into her, branding the instincts for survival into her hide. Sitting on her leather chair, chasing someone who was no danger to her, and playing the role of the loving and loyal daughter--her surroundings had dulled her senses and intuition of such a real danger. She'd forgotten the most important rule of the Centre: Trust No One.

The doors opened and she exited, her heels clicking on the stone floor. SL-23 was always so cold, she remembered with a sigh, she should have brought a jacket. Cursing her lack of foresight, she adjusted her head set and murmered into the mouth piece softly.

"What'd we got, Broots?" There was a pause, and then Broots's nervous voice answered her.

"Two sweepers down the corridor to your left. I've taken care of the cameras, but the shift switches in five minutes. You've got a tiny opening between the time the new guards arrive, and when the current shift shows them any hot spots they've noticed."

"And have they noticed any hot spots?"

"Not that I could see. Are... Are you sure you wanna do this, Miss Parker? Your fa... Mr. Parker isn't here to..." He left the words "protect you" unspoken. No one ever dared suggest to her that she wasn't capable of taking care of herself. No one.

Broots was still the twitchy little chipmunk he had been for the past six years, but in recent months he had grown... some balls, for lack of a better term. Without the constant stress of Mr. Parker, Miss Parker had cut down on the verbal abuse of her two co-conspirators, which meant less death threats for Broots, and less not so pleasant knicknames for Sydney. It was no good trying to distance them, she had realized: Raines and Lyle were well aware of their loyalty to her, and the damage had already been done to the protective wall she'd worked so hard to raise around them.

With a sigh, Parker jerked back to the moment. "The best laid plans of mice and men often go astray..." she whispered softly, closing her eyes for a moment, temporarily ignoring Broots's voice in her ear.

"Yes Broots, I'm sure I wanna do this. You saw the file-- this has gone too far. I'm putting an end to this. Now." He gave a sigh in her ear and a softly whispered "good luck" before going silent.

Through his computer geek intuition, built up from watching her over the course of six years, he had learned that in moments like these, she needed silence, complete and utter, in order to concentrate and work. He was the only one she had let see the DSA's of her training, he had seen what she was capable of under the right conditions, and knew that no matter how much he wanted to keep talking to her, to reassure himself she was alright, that he had have enough trust in her abilities to let her concentrate. He let go of his lifeline in order to keep her alive, and it burned him at the same time as soothing his nerves.

Parker closed her eyes and took several silent breaths. /Think of that room./ When she could recall the smell of the training center and the echoing sounds of her feet on the mats, she pushed further. /The third year. The session after my birthday./ She remembered the blow to the stomach she had been given that caused her to vomit up the cake. /TS5674. Stealth retreival and strike. One cassualty allowed, but not encouraged./ That was the one.

As the scenario filled her head, she opened her eyes again, standing up straight and tall, preening her muscles for one second before crouching down low to the ground and blinking slowly. The grey in her eyes vanished completely, her eyes turning so blue and clear that anyone watching would have been shocked-- they were as flawless as a crayon drawing, no pigment other than the one tint of baby blue in her eyes. The guards at the end of the hall left their post, and she listened to their steps echo down the hallway.

"Red light... stop." A loud buzz filled her ears as they exited the hallways, talking breifly to the new arrivals. "Green light... go." Darting down the hallway, she pulled her keycard out from her pocket and ran it through the scanner, pushing the door a crack open and slipping inside, closing it behind her and darting down below the window opening.

The footsteps of the new guards arrived, and she crouched under the window as the meaty face of a sweeper loomed in the bullet proof glass. She bit her lip to stop the jump that came when he slid the dark metal blocker over the window with a crack, listening for a few moments and letting out her breath. The whole thing had taken a matter of seconds.

"Well, *that* was unbearably easy-"

"Um... Excuse me. Are you supposed to be in here?" Miss Parker whirrled around, looking with wide grey eyes at the owner of the voice.
And for the first time in 20 years, Mikela saw herself.


CH 5


Miss Parker stared in silent shock at the girl before her. The teenager removed her headphones and raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me, I asked you a question. You don't look like you belong in here-- I'd like to see your clearance... Do you even understand me?" Her voice was filled with annoyance. Ah, Miss Parker thought fuzzily, the impracticality and invincibility of youth.

"Habla espanol senora?" Parked didn't answer, simply let the folders drop from her hands. The girl looked at them. "If those were my SIM's for the day, you're picking them up-- I sure as hell ain't taking the blame for it." She looked back at Parker, then gave a bone weary sigh.

Pushing herself up, she slid into a sitting position, sliding her legs over the side of the long counter and jumping down. She stood at a little under 5 foot six, her auburn hair shimmering in the light as her blue eyes flashed in annoyance. Mistaking the reason that Parker was staring at her, she whirrled around.

"Yes, this is what you've heard soooooo much about. The perfect genetically engineered Centre tool. The mind that's solved a thousand SIMs and all that. Geez, you think you'd show a little respect for the tittle." She walked over to where Parker was crouched, offering her a hand. Parker looked at it like she had never seen one before.

"It's a hand. See? I have two of them. So do you. You're supposed to put one of yours into one of mine so I can help you up. Like this-" she reached down and grasped one of Parker's hands. Her voice died in her throat and her whole body tensened.

*This is her,* the people in her head yelled, *this is the one they made you after. This is Eve!* Kali jerked back, falling to the floor and staring at Miss Parker in wide eyed shock. The two sat in silence, breathing heavily and eyeing each other suspiciously.

*She has your eyes, your mouth, your face-- this is what you were designed to become. She is your future.* Kali swallowed thickly, blinking twice before speaking.

"You... You're the one they made me after." Miss Parker sighed and nodded.

"Yes. You're my-"

"Clone. I'm aware. Been there, done that, gotten the therapy." Parker blinked, feeling an involantary smirk come to her lips.

"You're taking this quite well."

"Thank you, I quite agree. It's taking a huge amount of energy not to jump up and down and scream in joy."

"Joy?"

"I just met Eve. The woman who I was created from; you've got every answer I've been looking for for the last thirteen years of my life."

"Thirteen?"

"Or so I estimate. They haven't told me what my birthday is yet, so I made one up."

"Smart."

"Not really. Only a recourse taken by a labrat, an attempt to control my environment, however large of an illusion it is, and an attempt to reassure myself of my own self worth by assigning myself a sense of normalacy in a place where none is give...I'm ranting, aren't I."

Parker laughed. "Yes but I won't tell anyone. Scouts honor."

"Huh?"

"Never mind." Rising, Parker offered her a hand, which Kali shook asside. No matter how persistent the voices in her head were, she had to remain somewhat distant; she had only known this woman for a five minute period. Climbing back onto the kitchen isle, Kali patted the spot next to her, and Parker climbed up as well, elegantly crossing her legs. Kali lay on her stomach, her legs up in the air, swinging back and forth lazily. The two stared at each other for another moment before Kali cleared her throat.

"Well, I suppose the first question should be...your name."

"Miss Parker."

"Miss Parker? What kind of a name is that? Come on! Gimme a real name-- one of those things your parents make up at birth that scar you for life and cause endless teasings through out school by peers and those higher up on the social chain of pre-adulthood."

"Everyone's always called me Miss Paker."

"Well, Kali isn't in the name Miss Parker, so gimme a birthname."

"Mikela-- Kali's? They named you after the goddess of death and destruction?"

"And rebirth."

"Only after she had killed everything on the planet. Geez, they really were trying to send a message with you, huh?"

"Yup. They looked inside your name and pulled mine out. And I suppose they thought it was fitting."

"You're an assasin?"

"Trained and tried." Parker sighed and shook her head.

"It's not a fun life unless you go out of your way to make it so."

"I know. I had to start putting little red clown noses on my victims." Parker chortled and rubbed the back of her head.

"Very nice."

"Next question: age?"

"32. Which means I was about 19 when they made you. Wow-- I must have really impressed them."

"Yeah. How come you're so special?"

"I honestly don't know. I guess it might be because I scored the second highest score ever recorded on my Centre tests-- both academically and physically. Maybe they wanted a second shot at training me. They wanted to make me both a pretender and an assasin."

"Pretender?"

"It's what you are. The SIMS-- only a few people can do them. And since you can, you're a pretender."

"Oh."

"I have the gene, but my mother stopped them from testing me. And when they tried, after her death, the doctor they chose was too much for them to control, and was soon eliminated. So they settled for a highly intelligent hitman instead of genius level."

"Oh..." Kali absorbed this for several minutes, looking at her hands and then at Miss Parker's longer and thinner ones. Both were covered with tiny scars, in almost identical places. She took one of them and put it down in front of her, then traced the almost invisible blemishes with her fingers, comparing them to her own. Parker watched and offered explanations.

"Barbed wire related...Explosive training, shrapnel...Throwing knives...Catching already thrown knives..." Kali looked at her own hands and traced her training through them.

Parker watched her for a moment, then posed a soft question. "When you first realized it...Did you...?" Kali looked up slowly, nodding solemnly once.

"With all my soul. I wondered if you had knowledge of it, or if you had approved the program. I hated you for being good enough to warrant a clone, and for not being what they wanted; for giving them a reason to make me."

"Do you still?"
Kali shook her head and smiled ruefully at her hands. "No. I wasn't very angry at you, I realized, and you didn't deserve my anger."

"How did you know?" Kali sighed and rubbed the back of her head, and Parker nodded in understanding. "She told you so." Kali jerked her head up.

"I never told..."

"I know. But I hear her too. She's my mother-- our mother."

"She told me not to hate you, that it wasn't your fault. My Creator, however, was quite another matter."

"What was his name?"

"I don't know. He never told me. He's just the Creator, He doesn't warrant a name."

"Just a pronoun."

"Exactly."

"Where is He now?"

"He is no longer with us, I'm so sorry to say. He...took a rather long vacation."

"In Hell?"

"Well, I thought He could use a suntan." Parker laughed heartily, and Kali found herself entranced in the sound. *God, this woman...this is my mother, no matter what she says.*

There was a scratching at the grate, and Parker shot up, her eyes fixed on the ventalation opening. The grid slid open and a red haired head poked out, grinning happily. Parker smiled. "Hello Angelo."

"Daughter, happy."

"Yep." She looked at Kali. "Kali, this is Angelo. Angelo, this is Kali. She's my-"

"Mini-daughter." Parker smiled.

"I suppose that works. Kali's a mini-me." Angelo smiled pleasantly, and Kali found herself smiling back. Angelo looked back at Parker.
"Sydney worried. Bad man coming." Parker ran over to the door, grabbing her files and her keycard. Handing them up to Angelo, she turned back to Kali.

"I have to go-- they can't find me here." *Go? NO! I just found her-- she can't leave!*

"But-"

"I'll come back, I promise. Don't tell anyone I was here-- it will be bad for the both of us."

"No duh, I'm not that stupid. But how will I find you again? When will you come back?" Parker pushed herself up into the grate, then looked down at Kali with a smile.

"I'll see you in a few days, I swear it-- I'll be back, Scouts honor." And she disappeared. The grate slid back in place.

Kali climbed up onto the counter and lay down, her head on her arms. The faint traces of perfume still clung to the air, and she inhaled it desperately, tears in her eyes. She shoved her diskman away from her, blinking wildly to keep from sobbbing in dismay.

*She left. And now I'm all alo-* "Oh, and Kali?" Parker's voice came down from the grate. Kali jerked up.

"Yeah?"

"Next time I visit you can tell me why you're eyes are so sad. Till then, Sweetheart." Her voice left, and the sound of someone shuffling away came. Kali felt the tears leave her eyes and a smile come onto her face.

*She'll be back. Scout's honor.*


tbc...









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