Table of Contents [Report This]
Printer Chapter or Story Microsoft Word Chapter or Story

- Text Size +

- - - -

Fort Worth, Texas

“Sam, breakfast is ready!” Jarod shouted as he finished setting two plates with hash browns, scrambled eggs, bacon, and pancakes at the kitchen table of their apartment. He was all ready for the day and the Pretend that he and Samantha were about to go into at the local FBI field office. As usual, Jarod had all the bases covered. He was dressed in a white dress shirt, black suit, tie, and shoes. Underneath his jacket was his gun, securely in his shoulder holster. His badge and ID were in his pocket within easy reach. When Samantha didn’t answer, he left the kitchen and walked down the hall to her bedroom. He looked in and noticed that she was still in bed, curled up, in her night clothes.

“Sam?” he asked.

“Go away,” she replied curtly.

“Sam, your breakfast is getting cold,” Jarod said. “And you should be dressed by now.”

“I’m not eating,” she replied.

“Well, aren’t you going to at least get dressed?”

“When I feel like it.”

Jarod sighed. “Look, Sam, I understand you’re in a lot of pain, but -”

Samantha was out of bed and in his face in an instant. “Jarod, you may be a Pretender, but there is no way on God’s green earth that you could possibly understand what I’m going through, unless you were a woman. You can’t understand what it’s like to have your uterus feel like it’s twisting into a pretzel once a month, to have your shoes not fit because you’re ankles have blown up like two balloons, and to have your head feel like it’s in a vice and looking at lights makes you want to throw up, all because your friend forgot to get your Mydol like he said he would, okay?”

“Sam, it was an honest mistake. I really didn’t mean -”

Samantha stopped him by holding her hand up. “If you value your life, Jarod, do not say another word.” Jarod kept his mouth shut as Samantha grabbed her clothes, brushed by Jarod, and marched to her bathroom. Jarod was on her heels, but before he could say anything else, she walked into the bathroom and slammed the door shut in his face.
Jarod sighed as he heard the water going. He was really having second thoughts about Samantha joining him on their latest Pretend, but he knew if he told her to stay put, he’d have to deal with her wrath, and that was not something he would want to look forward to. He thought of a way he could help improve her mood, and it clicked. He smiled as he headed for the front door.

“Sam, I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said over his shoulder as he opened the door.

The door opened and Samantha came out. She hadn’t even started undressing yet. “Where are you going?” she demanded.

“You’ll see,” Jarod replied.

“Jarod, I swear, if you’re up to something, I will personally take my gun and shoot you!” Jarod didn’t respond as he closed the door behind him. Samantha grumbled as she went back into the bathroom.

The Pretender returned minutes later with a small shopping bag behind his back. Samantha was standing in the living room waiting for him, having showered and was now dressed in a women’s black pantsuit with a white blouse and black shoes. She had her arms folded, and she was glaring at Jarod.

“Hi,” Jarod replied, smiling. “I have a surprise for you. Close your eyes.” Samantha still glared. “It’s not a bad surprise. I promise.”

“Yeah, why don’t I believe you?” Samantha replied.

“Sam,” Jarod said gently. “Please.” The young woman sighed, but she closed her eyes. She could hear Jarod rustling around in the bag, then silence. She felt him put something on her face. “Okay, open your eyes.”

Samantha opened her eyes and saw that the world had changed. Everything was grayer and slightly darker than before. She knew she was wearing a pair of sunglasses, and she must have looked a bit shocked, because Jarod just smiled more.

“They’re sunglasses,” Jarod replied. “For your headache. Predator Ray Bans, oval wrap, black matte; plastic, gray, reflective lens; smudge, scratch and impact resistant, and a full warranty with UV protection.”

Samantha just stared at him, not sure what to do. She had been all set to let loose into him with a sharp remark, but his peace offering had put a damper in her bite. However, even though she knew he could tell he had calmed her somewhat, she wasn’t going to act like he did. She pushed the bridge of the Ray Bans further up her nose, checked her shoulder holster under her jacket one last time to make sure her gun was secured, checked her pockets for her ID and badge. Everything was ready.

“Let’s go,” she said curtly, pushing past Jarod and opening the door. She stopped short when she saw him head into the kitchen. She heard some noises, then he returned a few minutes later. “What were you doing?”

“Throwing away our breakfast,” Jarod replied. “I’ll get us something to eat on the way to work.” Samantha just grunted as she left, not bothering to glance behind her to make sure he was following her. Therefore, she missed the huge grin that Jarod had on his face, knowing the gift he had gotten her helped calm her down, even if she didn’t want to admit it.

- - - -

Samantha and Jarod walked into the briefing room of the Fort Worth FBI field office. Samantha was still wearing her sunglasses, and both she and Jarod were sipping cups of coffee and carrying some papers and pens. They took a couple of empty seats on the right side of the room, away from the other agents as they conversed among themselves. The Pretenders were silently going through their papers when someone approached them. They glanced up and saw a young man in his late twenties, with brown-red hair and green eyes, wearing a suit. He was also grinning at the Pretenders - more precisely, Samantha.

“You must be the new agents we’ve heard about,” he said.

“Certainly not the tooth faeries,” Samantha muttered, going back to her papers.

“I’m Agent J. B. Clyde,” Jarod replied. “And this is S.J. Parker, my partner.”

“Nice to meet you,” the young man nodded. “I’m Agent Vince Curtis.” He looked at Samantha. “Look, uh, I know we just met, but do you want to have lunch with me?”

“Rather not,” Samantha said curtly without looking up. “I have plans.”

“What kind of plans?”

“Plans that don’t involve you,” Samantha answered. She looked up. “Unless your idea of a good time is having your head separated from your shoulders, because you persisted in annoying me. If that’s the case, I’m free at twelve.”

“On second thought, I just remembered I have something do to today,” Curtis replied, backing up slowly. “Perhaps another time.” He left.

“Jerk,” Samantha muttered.

“You’re starting to sound like another Parker I know,” Jarod replied wryly.

"Don't even start with me, Jarod," Samantha said. "And don't compare me to that huntress chasing us, because I am this close-" she held her index finger and thumb millimeters apart "- to pulling out my gun and shooting you as it is."

Jarod put up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “Hey, hey, easy there. Okay, I'll shut up now.” He watched for Samantha's curt nod.

Oh, yeah, he thought. Definitely like Parker. Jarod went back to his papers. He glanced up as the room got eerily quiet, noticing that all the agents were seated and watching a lone figure walk into the room. He looked at Samantha and saw she was also watching the man walk to the podium in the front and face the small room.

“First of all,” he said in a voice that commanded immediate attention, “I can see that our two new agents seemed to have found their way here without any problems.” He looked directly at both Pretenders. “Welcome to the Fort Worth FBI. I’m Assistant SAC Steele. I’ve seen both of your records, so we can dispense with any formalities. Now, Agent Parker, if you’ll remove your shades, we can begin.”

“I’d rather keep them on, sir,” Samantha replied.

“That wasn’t a request, Parker. Remove your sunglasses. *Now.*”

“No,” Samantha said curtly. “I’m keeping them on. *Sir.*”

Steele just narrowed his eyes at the young woman as the room became silent. Jarod looked over at Samantha, but she looked just as determined as Steel did; she was holding her ground. Steele just shuffled his papers then went into his briefing for the day.

“That is all,” he said after he was finished. He grabbed his papers, and everyone watched him leave the podium and walk over to Jarod and Samantha. He looked down at the young woman. “My office, Agent Parker. Immediately.” Without waiting for an affirmative, he left. As the agents gathered their things, a few came over to the two, including Curtis.

“You must be either really stupid or really brave,” he said.

“And why is that?” Samantha asked, gathering her things.

“That’s Agent Steele,” another agent, another agent who'd identified himself as Jason Tucker, answered. “*The* Agent Steele. Surely you’ve heard of him.”

“Actually, we’ve both been really busy,” Jarod replied.

“Yeah, solving cases, like we’ve been trained to do,” Samantha added snidely.

“Who’s Agent Steele?” Jarod asked, ignoring Samantha’s remark.

“No one really knows,” Curtis said. “He’s like the Bogeyman of the FBI.”

“Rumor has it that he is a person you don’t want to cross,” Tucker added.

Samantha stood up, looking right at the other agents. “Well, I can assure you that Agent Steele is nothing compared to me.” She left with Jarod right behind her.

“Sam, I really think it would be best if you -”

“If I what?” Samantha asked curtly, glaring at Jarod from underneath her sunglasses as they walked to their desks in another part of the building. They were pushed up together on one side of a large room, facing each other. Jarod sat as his while Samantha put her stuff down on hers. “Look, Jarod, don’t worry about me, okay? I think I can handle one Federal Agent on my own.” She left Jarod and walked over to Steele’s door, knocking on it confidently.

“Enter,” Steele’s voice replied. Samantha took a deep breath and opened the door. She stepped inside the office and was immediately hit by an invisible force; she felt it wash over her, and she shuddered involuntarily as her neck tingled. She glanced at Steele. He was sitting calmly at his desk, reading a file.

“Have a seat, Agent Parker,” he replied, not looking up. “And shut the door.” Samantha shut the door and walked over to the single seat in front of Steele’s desk. She gingerly sat down, eyeing the dark man with wariness as her confidence diminished slightly. “I see you have yet to remove your sunglasses.” He went back to reading the file silently then closed it and put it on his desk. He leaned forward.

“Agent Parker,” he said in a low voice, his expression hard, “what gives you the right to come into my department and disregard my orders?”

Samantha sat tall. Despite her uneasy feelings about this man and trying to concentrate on keeping her wits about her, she was wondering why she was being bombarded by all those unusual emotions, but she quickly chalked it up to psychological suggestion from the agents’ warnings about Steele to her earlier. And she still wasn’t feeling well, and no one, not even this Agent Steele, was going to try to intimidate her.

“Well, it’s quite simple, actually,” she replied. “I just don’t feel like following orders today. Sir.”

Steele just stared at her for a few moments before getting up and walking around. He stood behind her, but Samantha didn’t bother turning to look at him - partially because something about him made her teeth itch and her nerves burn; she wasn't entirely sure she could move her spine with him standing so close. “I’ve read your file, Parker. Count your blessing you have such a good record, because there are a couple of things about you that would have had you thrown out of here, otherwise.”

“Such as?” Samantha asked curtly.

“Your psychological evaluation, for one thing,” Steele replied. “You haven’t been working for the FBI for long, but you already have a history of insubordination: you don’t follow rules, you don’t listen, you constantly defy orders.” He leaned over until he was two inches from her ear. “But I’m sure that I can remedy that *very* quickly.” Samantha glanced back at his without moving her head as he stood straighter. “Second,” he continued, “your file is incomplete.”

“What do you mean incomplete?” Samantha asked.

“Your firearms qualification is missing,” Steele replied as he walked over and sat down at his desk. Samantha furrowed her eyebrows. She had watched Jarod when he put together their files for the Pretend, so she knew her file was complete when he sent it off. “Now, procedure dictates you are not to do any field work until your qualification is in. So, you have two options: first, you can spend all your time behind a desk until the next round of qualification comes up - in two weeks.”

“Or?” Samantha asked. There was no way she was going to spend her entire Pretend behind a desk.

“Or you can take your qualification right now,” Steele answered. He looked directly at her. “With me as your supervisor.”

Samantha looked back at him through her shades. He didn’t have to know her that well to know he was putting her in a Catch 22 situation, and he knew she knew that. However, Samantha was not easily daunted. She nodded curtly. “I’ll take the qualification now,” she replied, mustering all her strength to will herself not to cower under that stealthy gaze.
“Good. I’ll see you in a few moments. Dismissed.” Samantha stood up and left the office, closing the door behind her. She had to lean slightly against the door frame and catch her breath as her heart pounded in her chest, trying to comprehend these sensations. She glanced around and saw a few agents giving her odd looks, so she recomposed herself, took a deep breath, and walked over to Jarod.

“Thanks a lot,” she hissed as she walked past him and sat at her desk.

“What?” he asked, looking up.

“My firearms qualification is missing,” she replied in a low voice, leaning forward.

“What do you mean missing?” Jarod asked in a low voice.

“Missing, like *gone*,” Samantha answered.

“Sam, I can assure you that the record was complete when I sent it off.”

“Well, it isn’t now and, because of that, I get to spend my morning with the Dark Lord of the Sith at the firing range. Not exactly how I want to be spending my morning.”

“I can assure you, it’s not the number one priority on my list of things to do today, either,” Steele replied as he walked up, startling both Pretenders. They glanced at each other, not sure how much of their conversation Steele had heard. “Agent Parker, if you’re ready.”

“Sir, would it be possible for me to accompany Agent Parker?” Jarod asked. Despite Samantha’s attitude regarding Steele, he had seen the young woman flinch and become uneasy around him, and Jarod wasn’t going to let her face him alone if he could help it.

“No, that would not be possible, Agent Clyde,” Steele answered. “You have work to do, and I suggest you get started on it.” He glanced at Samantha as she got to her feet. “I’ll be back shortly, and so will Agent Parker if she behaves herself.” Samantha and Jarod shared one last glance before the young woman left with Steele. Jarod watched them leave as he leaned back in his chair, wondering if what the other agents said about Steele had some validity to it.

Jarod couldn't help feeling that Steele reminded him vaguely of a dangerous animal; there was something almost feline about his movements, his piercing gazes. Jarod decided, in light of Samantha's obvious agitation and his own growing feelings of unease, that Agent Steele was now something of a - a special case. He was a variable, a wild card, and the Pretender had learned that he couldn't afford to lose track of anything he couldn't predict or control.

Just as Jarod leaned forward, still watching the receding backs of the protégé and the panther, Tucker walked by on his way to the copy room. “Ah, Agent Tucker, sorry to bother you, but can I ask you an odd question?”

Tucker stopped and half-smiled. “Sure - whatcha wanna know? How to rush a fax report or how to get onto Instant Messenger without Old Steelespleen knowing?”

Jarod just gave Tucker an odd look as he replied, “No. Ah, actually, I was, uh, hoping you could, uh, explain something for me real quick.”

Tucker cocked his head. “Such as?”

Jarod cocked an eyebrow. “What, exactly, is a dark lord of the Sith?”

Tucker stared at Jarod for a moment, then shook his head, chuckling. "Clyde, my man, if you have to ask me that, then you are in the *wroooong* galaxy." He was still laughing as he sauntered away.

- - - -

The Centre
Blue Cove, Delaware

“Yes, I understand,” Lyle said as he sat at his desk. The phone was cradled between his shoulder and his head as he tried finding some papers. “Yes, I know they were supposed to return this morning, but there was a delay with their flight . . . I know -” He was cutoff by the person on the phone, but he knew better than to talk back to any Tower personnel, so he just hardened his _expression and seethed quietly.

“Yes, sir,” he said after a few moments. “I understand . . . yes, sir.” He hung up the phone and sighed, frustrated. He muttered as he started looking through the papers on his desk.

“Having fun?”

Lyle didn’t even have to look up to see who it was; he recognized the voice. “Don’t you ever knock?”

“Yes,” Cox replied as he came in, letting the door shut behind him. “But I much prefer coming in unannounced. Makes it easier to see you unbalanced.” He came over and sat down in a chair in front of Lyle’s desk.

“I am *not* unbalanced,” Lyle replied as he looked up. “The Tower was expecting a status report this morning. But guess what? My sister and her stooges haven’t arrived from their meeting on schedule. No arrival means no status report, and no status report means that the Tower is breathing down *my* neck. Rest assured Miss Parker and the others will be hearing about this when they *do* return.”

“You’re just upset you weren’t allowed to go,” Cox replied snootily as he removed a pair of black, leather gloves. “Though, to be honest, I can see why you *weren’t* allowed to tag along. That operative would have eaten you alive.”

Lyle got to his feet, leaning over his desk, his hands resting on the edge, his _expression hard. In reality, he *was* glad that he hadn’t been told to go with Miss Parker and her chase team. Reputation at the Centre was a good indication of a person’s abilities, and from what he had heard about this mysterious Tower operative, he had every reason to be scared, but there was no need to show that weakness to Cox. “I beg to differ, Mr. Cox. That hot shot Tower operative may have everyone at the Centre scared of him, but I’m less than convinced of his abilities. I can guarantee you that if I had gone instead of those three, and he tried anything, I would have taken him apart piece by piece.”

“Neither of you has the brass to disassemble a hamburger, let alone a man who is superior to you in every way.” Both Cox and Lyle looked to the source of the unmistakable wheezing voice and saw Raines standing at the entrance to Lyle’s office, holding one of the doors open with one hand, his other hand clutching the oxygen tank. Both men were clearly startled by the sudden presence of the other man, so wrapped up in their argument that they didn’t hear the usual squeaking of the tank’s wheels. Raines came in, the door shutting behind him as the wheels squeaked.

Cox stood, decidedly insecure with being physically subset in the presence of Raines. “You’re feeling well, I take it,” he said, trying to sound faintly patronizing.

“A lot better than you two will be if you don't get your act together,” Raines wheezed, glaring slightly. “The Tower is not happy with the apparent lack of progress involving one of their operatives.”

“If those - people - in the Tower want to get onto anyone’s case about the lack of progress,” Lyle replied, “they should be getting onto Miss Parker’s. She has yet to arrive from her meeting with *their* operative. If you want my opinion -”

“I do not,” Raines interrupted. “I want results. What’s the status on Jarod and Samantha?”

“Same as usual,” another voice said. The three men looked up and saw Parker standing in the door way. She smirked at Lyle’s surprised expression. “Hello, little brother.”

“It’s about time you returned,” Lyle replied as his expression hardened.

“You’re late,” Raines added.

“Couldn’t be helped,” Parker replied as she came in. “Problems at the airport.”

“The Tower wants your status report,” Lyle said. “They want to know everything that happened at your meeting.”

“The meeting was a waste of time,” Parker replied. “Their so-called operative is certifiably psychotic. We don’t need any more people running around the country after Jarod and Samantha. I say we cut him from the picture and he goes back under whatever rock he slithered out from.”

“You’re in no position to be saying anything,” Raines wheezed. “You are to do as you’re told.”

“And what makes you think *you’re* in any position to tell me what to do?” Parker challenged, folding her arms across her chest.

“Well, would you prefer that I be your supervisor?” The all turned at the sound of the deep voice, but Raines was the only one not surprised by the newcomer’s appearance. He smiled warmly at the brunette. “Just like old times.”

“Daddy?” Parker whispered.

(End of Part 1)









You must login (register) to review.