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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Miss Parker regained consciousness, coughing, and not a normal smoker's cough either. The air she attempted to breath in in between her coughs was relatively fresh, but it had a distinct odor of smoke and sweat.
She finally stopped coughing and dared to open her eyes, but she was assaulted by bright sunshine.
"Ah!" she yelped, closing her eyes. She went to shield her eyes with her hands, but soon noticed that she couldn't move them. Carefully feeling, she quickly recognized the cold steel of handcuffs.
"Dammit," she cursed. She tried to remember what happened last to possibly lead to her being in her current predicament.
Her memory slowly replayed recent events for her. Jarod had gotten into The Centre. They both had interrogated Fenigor about their respective pasts, and Fenigor had revealed to them that Jarod's father had killed her mother. That fact cut through Miss Parker's heart. She would never admit it aloud, but she had actually begun to really like Jarod, on top of grudgingly respecting his abilities. And to find out that his own father was responsible for her mother's death...well, it pretty much killed any possibility of deeper sentiment.
After they found this out, Jarod had run, and Miss Parker followed him to sub-level 27 where everyone soon seemed to come join the party. Sydney was yelling for Jarod to get out, and the next thing they all knew there was a massive explosion, then nothing, until now.
Miss Parker again attempted to open her eyes, this time more slowly, allowing them to adjust to the light. Once her eyes were fully open, she took a quick appraisal of her surroundings.
She was still dressed, but her jacket and shoes were missing. The room was small, nondescript. It gave her no indication as to where she could possibly be. She was attached to a bedpost by those handcuffs she had discovered earlier, but her legs were free. She couldn't see out the window from her current horizontal position, even with the curtains slightly open. When she attempted to move to look out, every muscle screamed at her and she lay back down, defeated.
Hearing the 'snick' of a lock put Miss Parker on alert. As the door to the room opened, she closed her eyes, pretending to still be unconscious.
"You're not very good at faking being asleep," commented the all-too-familiar voice of Jarod. Miss Parker could feel him sit down on the bed beside her, putting an arm on the other side of her. She couldn't stop her body tensing, feeling the need to be prepared to strike.
"You might as well open your eyes. I heard you a few minutes ago." She did as he said, but kept a defiant expression.
She almost let out a gasp upon seeing how beat up he looked. Jarod noticed the change in expression, touching his face.
"Yeah, I got the worst of the explosion, at least on our end," he commented, a pained look crossing his face.
"Am I...?" she began.
"You're okay. A little singed, but you'll be fine," he finished, knowing what she was going to ask.
"Why did you take me?" she asked, unsure that she wanted the answer.
"I didn't 'take you' in the way you're thinking. I regained consciousness and there was fire everywhere. I figured I should get us to safety."
"But why *me*? Why not Sydney?" At the mention of Sydney's name, the pained look returned, and Jarod glanced away briefly.
"Because I couldn't get to him, but I could get to you." He looked at her again, then got up and walked to the window, looking out.
"Why would you want to save me? I've given you nothing but grief." Jarod sighed, then turned to look at her, leaning against the window frame.
"Not always. You've had your moments," he replied, attempting a smile. Miss Parker was beginning to feel distinctly confused.
"So you save me from certain death, but lock me up like a dime-store whore," she commented, rattling the cuffs against the bedpost, much to her muscles' chagrin. Jarod couldn't hide a grin.
"That was to make sure you didn't try and hurt me when you did finally wake up, like you were considering a few minutes ago." Miss Parker felt a shiver go down her spine. He *was* good.
"How long have I been out?" she asked, taking the subject in a slightly different direction.
"About a day. You slept pretty well the whole time, except for the odd nightmare."
"Were you watching me?"
"No, but I could hear you from the other room. I had to come in to calm you down," he answered, then looked away in embarrassment.
[Florence Nightingale and a gentleman to boot,] she thought. Jarod moved away from the window and towards the bedroom door.
"I'll make you something to eat, you must be starving," he stated as he left the room. Miss Parker heard the lock 'snicking' back into place once he had closed the door.
She lay there, thinking about what had just transpired. She knew she should still feel anger toward him, but she couldn't help feeling grateful and a touch of compassion. He had actually saved her life. He could have left her there to die, but he didn't.
But he had obviously left the others there, which came as a bit of a surprise, at least as far as a couple of the people were concerned. He said he couldn't get to Sydney, but she wondered how hard he had tried.
[This is silly,] she thought. [Sydney was ten times more important to Jarod than I ever was.] This thought bothered her though, much more than she cared to admit. But the fact remained that he had saved her life, and now she owed him. She only wondered what he could possibly want in return.
--
Jarod stood in the kitchen, stirring the Spaghetti-Os in the pot over the wood stove. He had let his guard down a bit too much with Ms. Parker in there. He couldn't risk her getting to him, she was too dangerous and could turn on him faster than he could blink. He had to be more careful.
Taking down a bowl from the cupboard, he began to think about the change in her attitude after she found out he had saved her life. She had been surprised, but he had noticed a bit of compassion and thanks coming through near the end. But for all he knew she was just playing him.
Emptying the contents of the pot into the bowl, Jarod placed it on a tray and headed back to the bedroom, steeling himself for their next encounter.
--
The door opened to reveal Jarod with a tray. The smell of tomato sauce wafted in Ms. Parker's direction, making her stomach growl. Jarod smiled.
"I guess you're ready to eat."
"I wouldn't mind being uncuffed," she commented as he put the tray down on the bedside table. He sat down beside her again.
"I bet you would," he responded, a sly grin on his face. "But I'm afraid I can't quite trust you yet." She let out a frustrated sigh.
"Will you at least let me sit up? I find it difficult to eat lying down."
"Sure, why not. I'm not the type to mistreat others." Ms. Parker knew that was pointedly addressed to her.
Jarod took out the key and leaned over her, unlocking one of the cuffs. Ms. Parker found herself distracted by the closeness of Jarod, the scent of musk coming from him.
He gently took both her arms, moving them down. He helped her sit up, putting pillows behind her. She watched as he continued to fuss, almost mesmerized by his gentleness. Without thinking, she reached up and touched his face.
"Ow! What'd you do that for?" he demanded, grabbing her by the wrist. She shook her head, realizing what had happened. She put a defiant look on her face once again.
"What do you think?" she questioned. Jarod roughly pulled her arm behind her back, grabbing the other still-cuffed arm and doing the same. She struggled briefly, but he was in better shape at the moment, so he was able to recuff her.
"Nice try. Better luck next time."
"I don't need luck to take you down," she replied.
"On the contrary, Ms. Parker, you need a great deal of luck. Witness your inability to capture me after two years."
"So you say luck has more to do with things instead of, say, skill."
"Luck, fate, whatever you want to call it, it plays a much greater role in life than we may care to admit. It all has to do with the feeling of not being in control, so we deny that it doesn't exist to try and cover our fear."
"Fear?"
"Fear of losing what control we believe we have in our lives, when deep down, on an instinctual level, we know that luck or fate will guide us, in its own chaotic way." Ms. Parker couldn't help but be amazed by him. One minute he could seem so child-like, and the next he'd come out with some deep revelation. He was one hell of a study in contrasts.
"What's this?" she questioned when she saw what he was going to feed her.
"Spaghetti-Os."
"You've *got* to be kidding me."
"No, they really..."
"I can't eat that," she stated more clearly.
"Why not? I cooked it properly."
"I don't eat crap like that," she threw out, finally getting her point across.
"Well, you have no choice because this is all I have," he retorted, shoving the spoon in front of her mouth. Despite not wanting to eat it, her hunger got the best of her and she dutifully opened her mouth.
"There, that wasn't so bad, now was it?" he asked after she had swallowed the first spoonful.
"I wouldn't eat it every day," she replied, making a face. He continued feeding her.
"It's really not that bad."
"Let me guess, you eat it every day."
"Not the same one, but yes, I do eat this type of food regularly. I also eat various sweets I never knew about until I left The Centre."
"How in hell do you stay in shape eating all that junk?" she asked between spoon-feedings.
"I have my ways," he replied, smiling.
"Don't tell me, it's a Pretender thing."
"It just may be." He leaned over to the tray and picked up a napkin, returning to wipe around her mouth carefully. Once done, his hand lingered momentarily on her face, and their eyes locked. Again Ms. Parker found herself intrigued by the way he could seem to change from boy to man in a heartbeat. On a certain level it was quite erotic.
Jarod broke the contact, reaching into his pocket to get the key again, unlocking one hand, then putting her arms above her head, looping the cuffs around the bedpost as he lay her down.
The sound of the cuff relocking didn't really register with either of them. Their proximity to each other did though.
Ms. Parker let out a shivery sigh as Jarod's hand brushed down her arm. He seemed to observe her reaction with intense curiosity. For a moment she thought he was going to lean in to kiss her, but he got up from the bed, took the tray and quickly left without a word.
"Damn I could use a cigarette right now," she commented aloud.
--
Jarod put the tray on the counter before he could drop it.
What the hell had happened in there? One minute they're doing their usual banter, the next they're about to...
[About to what, Jarod? Do you really think a woman like her would even allow you to touch her if she wasn't cuffed, let alone kiss her?] his inner voice scolded. [She was just playing with you. She knew exactly the reactions you wanted so she gave them to you. She's cold-hearted and could never feel what you want, what you *crave*...]
"No, that can't be true. I know what's deep inside her. I've seen the good in her. It is there," he argued with himself.
Jarod sat down in a chair, laughing.
"I must be really losing it if I'm arguing with myself. I just wish Sydney..." he trailed off, not wanting to think of his failure to save his mentor, his friend.
Jarod got up from his seat, then walked over to the couch, lying down and closing his eyes, hoping that all these latest problems would go away.
