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Legal disclaimer: The recognizable characters of the TV-show 'The Pretender' don't belong to me but to MTM, NBC Television and 20th Century Fox. I just borrowed them. This story was only written and published for my pleasure and that of other fans. I don't pursue any financial interests whatsoever.
Author's note: A little something that came to my mind – and refused to leave until I put it down. It's a kind of experiment, so please tell me if it works for you, or if it bored you to tears, or whatever...
Three Little Words
by Miss Bit
Mr. Lyle put the tape back into the recorder. He had to listen to it again. Maybe he would be able to bring some sense into this strange conversation this time.
Jarod had called his sister last night, and the Centre had taped the call – as usual. They had, however, not been able to track Jarod down. Lyle pressed the play button and listened, his head cocked pensively.
MP: Yes?
J: Hello, Miss Parker.
MP: What do you want this time, Jarod?
J: Just talk to you.
MP: I'm tired. You'll need something better to keep me interested.
J: I know what this day means to you.
MP: Then you shouldn't have called.
J: I have always called you on this day. And I always will. You should know that by now.
MP: Where are you, Jarod?
J: You know that. [Brief pause.] You know.
MP: Leave me alone.
J: I can't and I won't.
MP: You're starting to get boring.
J: How do you feel, Miss Parker?
MP: I'm fine. I'm just fine.
J: You're lying.
MP: I'm cold, Jarod.
J: Then close your eyes.
[Another pause.]
MP: Jarod, I...
J: Miss Parker, don't.
MP: We have to end this.
J: Are your eyes closed?
[Long pause.]
MP: They are.
[Another long pause.]
J: How are you feeling now?
MP: That's none of your business.
J: [laughing] Now that sounds better.
MP: They are listening.
J: It doesn't matter. They can't understand, never could. That's why they will fail in the end.
MP: Time for you to go.
[Brief pause.]
J: Yeah, it is. Will it be another 20 years, what do you think?
MP: You know that I can't answer that. I told you never to ask me that again, and I meant it.
J: I won't apologize for that one. [A deep sigh.] Maybe you were right and we should end this. It's getting harder every time to go on like this.
MP: [taking a deep breath, pausing for a long moment] Good night, Jarod.
J: [hesitating for an instant] Good night, Miss Parker.
This was strange indeed. Somehow Lyle had the feeling that this conversation had a deeper meaning, one that totally escaped him. He frowned. Why would the last day be special to his sister? And why would Jarod care?
Lyle leaned back in his armchair. There was always the possibility to go over to his sister's office and ask her about this most peculiar incident - but she'd probably lie to him.
A slow smile formed on his face. Why not wait? If anything else failed, he could easily prepare himself for next year and catch Jarod then.
A few doors away Miss Parker sat behind her desk, staring unseeingly at one of the walls. In her mind she replayed the events of the last evening.
'I love you, Mama.' Dead.
'I love you, Tommy.' Dead.
'I love you, Daddy.' Dead? Not quite. But it sure felt like he was. He'd never been much of a father to her.
Just three little words. Miss Parker wanted to say them again but she knew that she could not. She was too afraid. These words were so powerful.
For a long time she had thought that they had a positive power, that they could heal, give strength. But now she knew that they could also kill. She had made these words become fatal. Lethal.
The phone rang. Miss Parker got up from her couch, picked up the phone and went over to one of the windows.
"Yes?"
A cold voice – her own. Tired, cold ice, formed by the glacier that was the Centre. The Centre had taken away all the warmth in her life, all the warmth in her.
But there was a spark left. It hadn't survived inside of her, though. The spark had escaped, a glowing ember in the dark, lonesome night of her life. Sometimes it came back to her, reviving parts inside of her she had thought long dead. It was the only thing she had left to lose.
"Hello, Miss Parker."
A warm voice, compassionate – but also dark, full of concern. Him again, of course. Because of him she had come to the window so that he could see her while they were talking. She gave him that in return for his warmth, his care.
"What do you want this time, Jarod?"
Pure venom, spat into his direction. He never seemed to care about her hostility – and why should he bother, anyway? Jarod could see right through her, as if she were made of the finest, most delicate glass.
"Just talk to you."
Just talk. How easy that sounded. But with them, it was never easy.
"I'm tired. You'll need something better to keep me interested."
"I know what this day means to you."
His voice had softened considerably. There was no trace of amusement left, only pure, sweet care. Damn him. Damn him for knowing, damn him for caring. Her hand that held the phone sank down to her side. She leaned forward until her forehead rested against the cold glass of the window. It took her an eternity to raise the phone back to her mouth.
"Then you shouldn't have called."
A hint of anger tinged her voice, effortlessly penetrating the ice-layer she had built to protect herself.
"I've always called you on this day. And I always will. You should know that by now."
Oh, she knew. His calling her was the only thing that made this day bearable to her.
What was next? She tried to remember. These special calls always followed a certain pattern; almost like a dance, the steps of which were only guided by one feeling. A feeling so overwhelming that none of them could resist its call.
"Where are you, Jarod?"
"You know that", he whispered, almost accusingly. "You know."
She closed her eyes, refusing to take the next step. For a while she just stood there, trying not to think the words that would destroy everything. With an effort she forced herself to answer him, to continue their dance. Not doing so, disregarding the order, would have meant to destroy the fragile beauty that this day represented to either of them.
"Leave me alone."
She allowed part of her weariness to creep into her voice as she opened her eyes again. With her free hand she steadied herself by placing it against the window instead of her forehead.
"I can't and I won't."
There was the faintest hint of impatience in his voice. Of course. He wanted to get on to the next part of this conversation; the most important part. The part for which the Centre would kill her if they knew about it.
"You're starting to get boring."
Oh, how much she wished this was over. And yet she never wanted it to end. Damn him. Damn herself.
"How do you feel, Miss Parker?"
His words sent trails of fire down her spine.
"I'm fine. I'm just fine."
Her voice had become soft, gentle. She simply couldn't help it. This always used to happen at this point of their conversation. Oh God, if only she could stop herself.
"You're lying."
It was no use. She gave up, let herself get wrapped up in the warmth of his voice.
"I'm cold, Jarod."
Her voice was wavering, indicating the chill that was threatening to freeze her spark of warmth to death.
"Then close your eyes."
Obediently she did. Miss Parker took a deep breath.
"Jarod, I..."
"Miss Parker, don't."
He didn't let her escape, and she was deeply grateful for his persistence. As much as she hated to admit it – she needed this annual ritual, needed it badly. And even if she tried to break out of their tacit agreement almost every year, she never really wanted to break the spell of the only thing that was left between them.
The weight of the phone in her hand suddenly reminded her of the real world, the world outside her thoughts. She had to take the next step. But what if her voice betrayed her?
"We have to end this."
There, it was back again. Somehow the icy core of her voice had managed to come up to the surface again, almost making her sound like she really meant what she had just said. Not good enough to fool Jarod, but a start. Though she had never really intended to deceive him – this little charade they were playing was for her alone. Jarod respected the fact that she needed this self-deception – he played along, because he would miss this conversation just as much as her.
Miss Parker felt herself begin to tremble. God, she was really cold. If it hadn't been for the warm glance that she knew was resting on her...
"Are your eyes closed?"
He knew that they were; he could see her from the other side of the window but since these words were a part of their ritual he had to say them. His voice was so soft, so gentle. Traces of tenderness coloured his voice, made his words get deep under her skin. It wasn't really important what he said but how he said it. The way he talked to her, the way he communicated what he meant without really saying it opened up something inside of her.
She was completely oblivious to the world as she stood there, eyes closed, one arm raised, the other hugged tightly around herself. It was almost time to go back to their special place, to meet her spark and embrace it, let herself get consumed by his overwhelming warmth. A silent sigh escaped her lips. Or had it been a sob? Miss Parker couldn't tell, didn't even bother to try.
The world closed in on her, and she had to remind herself that there was one more thing to do, to say. Jarod had given her the control over this moment. She was the one to lead them to their refuge, the only place in the world where they were no longer huntress and hunted.
"They are."
Strange, how distant her voice sounded to her. As if it didn't belong to her. An unreasonable joy seized her. Finally. Now she could let go of everything, even if only for a few moments. Well, not everything... A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she thought of what was going to happen now.
Her thoughts turned to Jarod. Jarod, who was standing just outside her house, who would accompany her on this unique journey, like he had for more than twenty years in one form or another.
She recalled the very same day as today, but twenty years ago. It had been exactly four years after her mother had died. It had been the last time Jarod had held her in his arms. Oh, she could remember every tiny detail of that moment. How safe she had felt in his arms, how warm, how comforted, how... loved.
She had returned from boarding school on that day; desperate to spend some time with her father she had come to the Centre. Of course he hadn't been able to spare some time for his little Angel, had simply sent her away, completely unaware of the special date.
Her features hardened as she thought back to that moment. She had stood in the hall, right in front of the door to her father's office. Right then she had lost control. The death of her mother, her father's lack of care and understanding, being back at the Centre – the pressure had been too much for her. Miss Parker had turned and run, tears streaming down her face.
After a while, she couldn't remember how long exactly, she'd bumped into someone. Still today, after all those years, Miss Parker was grateful to the fate that had made her run right into Jarod's arms.
Seeing the tears on her face and sensing the turmoil she was in Jarod hadn't hesitated for an instant. He had drawn her into a secluded area of the corridor, then pulled her into an embrace, hugging her tightly.
Miss Parker went back to that moment, focused all her attention on it. She could feel his strong arms around her again, one of his hands caressing her back soothingly, the other tangled in her hair. And she could hear the words of comfort he'd whispered to her, letting her know that in the end everything would be alright – because he would always be there for her.
It was as if he were holding her again, right now, right here in her house. Her head resting against his chest, his heartbeat resounding in her ear, his breath playfully caressing her neck. Oh, how much she craved his touch.
He was her spark. Her spark of warmth that came back to her and filled her with life, whenever she needed him to. Jarod was the one thing she had left to lose. And that was why she could never, ever tell him what she felt for him. Not with words, not even with a touch or a look. Because her love would kill him, like it had killed everyone she'd loved except for the one person who seemed to be immune to the curse of her love. How many times had she told her father that she loved him? So many times, and he had survived. 'Maybe it's because he doesn't love me back', Miss Parker mused, surprised at how little this thought hurt her.
But right now it didn't matter to her. She was still wrapped up in the afterglow of her memories, could still feel Jarod's warmth inside of her. Miss Parker suppressed a sigh. It was time to return into the real world, to take this place back to where it belonged, deep within her heart and soul. With an effort she opened her eyes, blinking at the sudden brightness.
She knew that Jarod was still standing out there, watching her, sharing the very same memory. Once again it was her turn to end this part of their ritual. 'I love you, Mama', she thought, this time lacking any bitterness. Then she nodded slowly, just once.
"How are you feeling now?"
'So much better. Alive. Thank you, Jarod.' Of course she couldn't voice these thoughts. Not for his sake, and not for hers. Strangely enough Jarod's annual calls gave her the strength to put up her icy facade, gave her the energy to conceal her warmth under the thickest layer of ice and anger.
"That's none of your business."
Ah, there it was again. Effortlessly she had slipped back into her role as the uncaring huntress. It felt so good to be back in control of herself, yet she already started to miss Jarod's warmth, his being near. In the past years she had often remembered that special day, but only when she knew that he was with her was she able to really feel him, hear him, touch him.
"Now that sounds better."
He was laughing, and Miss Parker forced herself to suppress the smile that threatened to come to her lips. She couldn't allow him to see how much his warmth meant to her, how much he meant to her. But inwardly she smiled, thinking how much she liked his laughter. How long was it since they had last shared a good laugh? They had been children then, hadn't they?
"They are listening."
She couldn't keep the softness out of her voice; it was impossible. Not with the sound of his laughter in her ears.
It had never mattered to her that the Centre was listening to this recurring call. They couldn't make anything of it. Nothing they said indicated that this was more than just one of Jarod's usual, annoying little games. But still she was surprised that no one had ever asked her about it.
"It doesn't matter", he said very softly, the faintest hint of roughness in his voice. "They can't understand, never could. That's why they will fail in the end."
Miss Parker realized that she was still hugging herself. She let her arm sink to her side, trying to relax. After a last, long look out of the window she went back to the couch but remained standing. It was almost over now.
"Time for you to go", she said, trying to keep her emotions from her voice.
She could sense his hesitation. He didn't want to end it yet, and neither did she. But they had no choice.
"Yeah, it is", he finally replied. His resignation was almost palpable. But when he went on, his voice almost sounded cheerful. "Will it be another twenty years, what do you think?"
Miss Parker felt a rush of anger wash through her. How could he ask her that? Didn't he know how this question hurt her? Twenty years had passed since he'd held her, twenty years since he'd last touched her. She smiled bitterly. There was nothing she wanted more than to feel his touch again, but she could never allow that to happen. It was too dangerous, for both of them.
"You know that I can't answer that", she said curtly, allowing her anger to shine through. "I told you never to ask me that again, and I meant it."
"I won't apologize for that one", Jarod responded, equally as angry, but then he sighed. "Maybe you were right and we should end this. It's getting harder every time to go on like this."
His voice betrayed him, at least to her. There was no way for them to end this. They were trapped inside this ritual, irresistibly drawn to each other, depending on each other.
Miss Parker stared down at her couch, trying to come to a decision. Finally she went back to the window. It was over now. Once again she hadn't found the courage to let him know what she felt. Of course he knew it, but she was sure that he wanted her to say it, that it wasn't enough for him to merely guess it.
She leaned against the window again, shutting her eyes. The glass felt cold against her skin. 'It's always like this', she mused. 'There's always this barrier between us, and I simply can't bring myself to tear it down. I'm sorry, Jarod. So terribly sorry. It's just three little words, but I can't say them. Not aloud. Because if I do, I'll lose you, and that would kill me. Losing you is the one thing that would destroy me, the one thing I couldn't bear.'
A single tear rolled down her cheek.
'I love you, Jarod. I love you.'
As she stood there, feeling cold and empty and lonely, she could almost feel the touch of Jarod's warm hand on her skin. His strong fingers gently wiping the tear away. The warmth returned to her and this time it would stay, at least for one year.
"Good night, Jarod."
Somehow she had managed to say these words aloud, forced herself to say them instead of what she craved to say.
"Good night, Miss Parker."
His words were a last gentle caress, his last gift before they had to part, before they had to return to their roles as huntress and hunted.
He hang up. Miss Parker flinched at the sudden end of their conversation, then opened her eyes.
'Thank you, Jarod', she mouthed, though she was almost sure that he had already gone. After what seemed like an eternity to her she left her place at the window and returned to the couch. She sat down, then put the phone away and took the photo album that lay on the couch table.
Now she had finally the strength to open it, to look at the pictures of her mother and remember the woman she had loved so much.
"Thank you, Jarod", she whispered. "Thank you for giving me my past back."
And somewhere out in the darkness a soft voice answered her.
"You're welcome, Miss Parker. Always welcome."
Miss Parker sighed heavily and forced herself back into the present. She could still feel Jarod's ghostlike touch on her cheek, wiping away a single tear.
Her phone rang and she picked up the receiver, deeply in thought. It was her father's voice that she heard on the other end, but she didn't really listen to him. She had rarely done so in the past few months. Miss Parker waited patiently until her father had ended his monologue. A bitter smile formed on her lips.
"I love you, Daddy."
The End!
Author's note: A little something that came to my mind – and refused to leave until I put it down. It's a kind of experiment, so please tell me if it works for you, or if it bored you to tears, or whatever...
Three Little Words
by Miss Bit
Mr. Lyle put the tape back into the recorder. He had to listen to it again. Maybe he would be able to bring some sense into this strange conversation this time.
Jarod had called his sister last night, and the Centre had taped the call – as usual. They had, however, not been able to track Jarod down. Lyle pressed the play button and listened, his head cocked pensively.
MP: Yes?
J: Hello, Miss Parker.
MP: What do you want this time, Jarod?
J: Just talk to you.
MP: I'm tired. You'll need something better to keep me interested.
J: I know what this day means to you.
MP: Then you shouldn't have called.
J: I have always called you on this day. And I always will. You should know that by now.
MP: Where are you, Jarod?
J: You know that. [Brief pause.] You know.
MP: Leave me alone.
J: I can't and I won't.
MP: You're starting to get boring.
J: How do you feel, Miss Parker?
MP: I'm fine. I'm just fine.
J: You're lying.
MP: I'm cold, Jarod.
J: Then close your eyes.
[Another pause.]
MP: Jarod, I...
J: Miss Parker, don't.
MP: We have to end this.
J: Are your eyes closed?
[Long pause.]
MP: They are.
[Another long pause.]
J: How are you feeling now?
MP: That's none of your business.
J: [laughing] Now that sounds better.
MP: They are listening.
J: It doesn't matter. They can't understand, never could. That's why they will fail in the end.
MP: Time for you to go.
[Brief pause.]
J: Yeah, it is. Will it be another 20 years, what do you think?
MP: You know that I can't answer that. I told you never to ask me that again, and I meant it.
J: I won't apologize for that one. [A deep sigh.] Maybe you were right and we should end this. It's getting harder every time to go on like this.
MP: [taking a deep breath, pausing for a long moment] Good night, Jarod.
J: [hesitating for an instant] Good night, Miss Parker.
This was strange indeed. Somehow Lyle had the feeling that this conversation had a deeper meaning, one that totally escaped him. He frowned. Why would the last day be special to his sister? And why would Jarod care?
Lyle leaned back in his armchair. There was always the possibility to go over to his sister's office and ask her about this most peculiar incident - but she'd probably lie to him.
A slow smile formed on his face. Why not wait? If anything else failed, he could easily prepare himself for next year and catch Jarod then.
A few doors away Miss Parker sat behind her desk, staring unseeingly at one of the walls. In her mind she replayed the events of the last evening.
'I love you, Mama.' Dead.
'I love you, Tommy.' Dead.
'I love you, Daddy.' Dead? Not quite. But it sure felt like he was. He'd never been much of a father to her.
Just three little words. Miss Parker wanted to say them again but she knew that she could not. She was too afraid. These words were so powerful.
For a long time she had thought that they had a positive power, that they could heal, give strength. But now she knew that they could also kill. She had made these words become fatal. Lethal.
The phone rang. Miss Parker got up from her couch, picked up the phone and went over to one of the windows.
"Yes?"
A cold voice – her own. Tired, cold ice, formed by the glacier that was the Centre. The Centre had taken away all the warmth in her life, all the warmth in her.
But there was a spark left. It hadn't survived inside of her, though. The spark had escaped, a glowing ember in the dark, lonesome night of her life. Sometimes it came back to her, reviving parts inside of her she had thought long dead. It was the only thing she had left to lose.
"Hello, Miss Parker."
A warm voice, compassionate – but also dark, full of concern. Him again, of course. Because of him she had come to the window so that he could see her while they were talking. She gave him that in return for his warmth, his care.
"What do you want this time, Jarod?"
Pure venom, spat into his direction. He never seemed to care about her hostility – and why should he bother, anyway? Jarod could see right through her, as if she were made of the finest, most delicate glass.
"Just talk to you."
Just talk. How easy that sounded. But with them, it was never easy.
"I'm tired. You'll need something better to keep me interested."
"I know what this day means to you."
His voice had softened considerably. There was no trace of amusement left, only pure, sweet care. Damn him. Damn him for knowing, damn him for caring. Her hand that held the phone sank down to her side. She leaned forward until her forehead rested against the cold glass of the window. It took her an eternity to raise the phone back to her mouth.
"Then you shouldn't have called."
A hint of anger tinged her voice, effortlessly penetrating the ice-layer she had built to protect herself.
"I've always called you on this day. And I always will. You should know that by now."
Oh, she knew. His calling her was the only thing that made this day bearable to her.
What was next? She tried to remember. These special calls always followed a certain pattern; almost like a dance, the steps of which were only guided by one feeling. A feeling so overwhelming that none of them could resist its call.
"Where are you, Jarod?"
"You know that", he whispered, almost accusingly. "You know."
She closed her eyes, refusing to take the next step. For a while she just stood there, trying not to think the words that would destroy everything. With an effort she forced herself to answer him, to continue their dance. Not doing so, disregarding the order, would have meant to destroy the fragile beauty that this day represented to either of them.
"Leave me alone."
She allowed part of her weariness to creep into her voice as she opened her eyes again. With her free hand she steadied herself by placing it against the window instead of her forehead.
"I can't and I won't."
There was the faintest hint of impatience in his voice. Of course. He wanted to get on to the next part of this conversation; the most important part. The part for which the Centre would kill her if they knew about it.
"You're starting to get boring."
Oh, how much she wished this was over. And yet she never wanted it to end. Damn him. Damn herself.
"How do you feel, Miss Parker?"
His words sent trails of fire down her spine.
"I'm fine. I'm just fine."
Her voice had become soft, gentle. She simply couldn't help it. This always used to happen at this point of their conversation. Oh God, if only she could stop herself.
"You're lying."
It was no use. She gave up, let herself get wrapped up in the warmth of his voice.
"I'm cold, Jarod."
Her voice was wavering, indicating the chill that was threatening to freeze her spark of warmth to death.
"Then close your eyes."
Obediently she did. Miss Parker took a deep breath.
"Jarod, I..."
"Miss Parker, don't."
He didn't let her escape, and she was deeply grateful for his persistence. As much as she hated to admit it – she needed this annual ritual, needed it badly. And even if she tried to break out of their tacit agreement almost every year, she never really wanted to break the spell of the only thing that was left between them.
The weight of the phone in her hand suddenly reminded her of the real world, the world outside her thoughts. She had to take the next step. But what if her voice betrayed her?
"We have to end this."
There, it was back again. Somehow the icy core of her voice had managed to come up to the surface again, almost making her sound like she really meant what she had just said. Not good enough to fool Jarod, but a start. Though she had never really intended to deceive him – this little charade they were playing was for her alone. Jarod respected the fact that she needed this self-deception – he played along, because he would miss this conversation just as much as her.
Miss Parker felt herself begin to tremble. God, she was really cold. If it hadn't been for the warm glance that she knew was resting on her...
"Are your eyes closed?"
He knew that they were; he could see her from the other side of the window but since these words were a part of their ritual he had to say them. His voice was so soft, so gentle. Traces of tenderness coloured his voice, made his words get deep under her skin. It wasn't really important what he said but how he said it. The way he talked to her, the way he communicated what he meant without really saying it opened up something inside of her.
She was completely oblivious to the world as she stood there, eyes closed, one arm raised, the other hugged tightly around herself. It was almost time to go back to their special place, to meet her spark and embrace it, let herself get consumed by his overwhelming warmth. A silent sigh escaped her lips. Or had it been a sob? Miss Parker couldn't tell, didn't even bother to try.
The world closed in on her, and she had to remind herself that there was one more thing to do, to say. Jarod had given her the control over this moment. She was the one to lead them to their refuge, the only place in the world where they were no longer huntress and hunted.
"They are."
Strange, how distant her voice sounded to her. As if it didn't belong to her. An unreasonable joy seized her. Finally. Now she could let go of everything, even if only for a few moments. Well, not everything... A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she thought of what was going to happen now.
Her thoughts turned to Jarod. Jarod, who was standing just outside her house, who would accompany her on this unique journey, like he had for more than twenty years in one form or another.
She recalled the very same day as today, but twenty years ago. It had been exactly four years after her mother had died. It had been the last time Jarod had held her in his arms. Oh, she could remember every tiny detail of that moment. How safe she had felt in his arms, how warm, how comforted, how... loved.
She had returned from boarding school on that day; desperate to spend some time with her father she had come to the Centre. Of course he hadn't been able to spare some time for his little Angel, had simply sent her away, completely unaware of the special date.
Her features hardened as she thought back to that moment. She had stood in the hall, right in front of the door to her father's office. Right then she had lost control. The death of her mother, her father's lack of care and understanding, being back at the Centre – the pressure had been too much for her. Miss Parker had turned and run, tears streaming down her face.
After a while, she couldn't remember how long exactly, she'd bumped into someone. Still today, after all those years, Miss Parker was grateful to the fate that had made her run right into Jarod's arms.
Seeing the tears on her face and sensing the turmoil she was in Jarod hadn't hesitated for an instant. He had drawn her into a secluded area of the corridor, then pulled her into an embrace, hugging her tightly.
Miss Parker went back to that moment, focused all her attention on it. She could feel his strong arms around her again, one of his hands caressing her back soothingly, the other tangled in her hair. And she could hear the words of comfort he'd whispered to her, letting her know that in the end everything would be alright – because he would always be there for her.
It was as if he were holding her again, right now, right here in her house. Her head resting against his chest, his heartbeat resounding in her ear, his breath playfully caressing her neck. Oh, how much she craved his touch.
He was her spark. Her spark of warmth that came back to her and filled her with life, whenever she needed him to. Jarod was the one thing she had left to lose. And that was why she could never, ever tell him what she felt for him. Not with words, not even with a touch or a look. Because her love would kill him, like it had killed everyone she'd loved except for the one person who seemed to be immune to the curse of her love. How many times had she told her father that she loved him? So many times, and he had survived. 'Maybe it's because he doesn't love me back', Miss Parker mused, surprised at how little this thought hurt her.
But right now it didn't matter to her. She was still wrapped up in the afterglow of her memories, could still feel Jarod's warmth inside of her. Miss Parker suppressed a sigh. It was time to return into the real world, to take this place back to where it belonged, deep within her heart and soul. With an effort she opened her eyes, blinking at the sudden brightness.
She knew that Jarod was still standing out there, watching her, sharing the very same memory. Once again it was her turn to end this part of their ritual. 'I love you, Mama', she thought, this time lacking any bitterness. Then she nodded slowly, just once.
"How are you feeling now?"
'So much better. Alive. Thank you, Jarod.' Of course she couldn't voice these thoughts. Not for his sake, and not for hers. Strangely enough Jarod's annual calls gave her the strength to put up her icy facade, gave her the energy to conceal her warmth under the thickest layer of ice and anger.
"That's none of your business."
Ah, there it was again. Effortlessly she had slipped back into her role as the uncaring huntress. It felt so good to be back in control of herself, yet she already started to miss Jarod's warmth, his being near. In the past years she had often remembered that special day, but only when she knew that he was with her was she able to really feel him, hear him, touch him.
"Now that sounds better."
He was laughing, and Miss Parker forced herself to suppress the smile that threatened to come to her lips. She couldn't allow him to see how much his warmth meant to her, how much he meant to her. But inwardly she smiled, thinking how much she liked his laughter. How long was it since they had last shared a good laugh? They had been children then, hadn't they?
"They are listening."
She couldn't keep the softness out of her voice; it was impossible. Not with the sound of his laughter in her ears.
It had never mattered to her that the Centre was listening to this recurring call. They couldn't make anything of it. Nothing they said indicated that this was more than just one of Jarod's usual, annoying little games. But still she was surprised that no one had ever asked her about it.
"It doesn't matter", he said very softly, the faintest hint of roughness in his voice. "They can't understand, never could. That's why they will fail in the end."
Miss Parker realized that she was still hugging herself. She let her arm sink to her side, trying to relax. After a last, long look out of the window she went back to the couch but remained standing. It was almost over now.
"Time for you to go", she said, trying to keep her emotions from her voice.
She could sense his hesitation. He didn't want to end it yet, and neither did she. But they had no choice.
"Yeah, it is", he finally replied. His resignation was almost palpable. But when he went on, his voice almost sounded cheerful. "Will it be another twenty years, what do you think?"
Miss Parker felt a rush of anger wash through her. How could he ask her that? Didn't he know how this question hurt her? Twenty years had passed since he'd held her, twenty years since he'd last touched her. She smiled bitterly. There was nothing she wanted more than to feel his touch again, but she could never allow that to happen. It was too dangerous, for both of them.
"You know that I can't answer that", she said curtly, allowing her anger to shine through. "I told you never to ask me that again, and I meant it."
"I won't apologize for that one", Jarod responded, equally as angry, but then he sighed. "Maybe you were right and we should end this. It's getting harder every time to go on like this."
His voice betrayed him, at least to her. There was no way for them to end this. They were trapped inside this ritual, irresistibly drawn to each other, depending on each other.
Miss Parker stared down at her couch, trying to come to a decision. Finally she went back to the window. It was over now. Once again she hadn't found the courage to let him know what she felt. Of course he knew it, but she was sure that he wanted her to say it, that it wasn't enough for him to merely guess it.
She leaned against the window again, shutting her eyes. The glass felt cold against her skin. 'It's always like this', she mused. 'There's always this barrier between us, and I simply can't bring myself to tear it down. I'm sorry, Jarod. So terribly sorry. It's just three little words, but I can't say them. Not aloud. Because if I do, I'll lose you, and that would kill me. Losing you is the one thing that would destroy me, the one thing I couldn't bear.'
A single tear rolled down her cheek.
'I love you, Jarod. I love you.'
As she stood there, feeling cold and empty and lonely, she could almost feel the touch of Jarod's warm hand on her skin. His strong fingers gently wiping the tear away. The warmth returned to her and this time it would stay, at least for one year.
"Good night, Jarod."
Somehow she had managed to say these words aloud, forced herself to say them instead of what she craved to say.
"Good night, Miss Parker."
His words were a last gentle caress, his last gift before they had to part, before they had to return to their roles as huntress and hunted.
He hang up. Miss Parker flinched at the sudden end of their conversation, then opened her eyes.
'Thank you, Jarod', she mouthed, though she was almost sure that he had already gone. After what seemed like an eternity to her she left her place at the window and returned to the couch. She sat down, then put the phone away and took the photo album that lay on the couch table.
Now she had finally the strength to open it, to look at the pictures of her mother and remember the woman she had loved so much.
"Thank you, Jarod", she whispered. "Thank you for giving me my past back."
And somewhere out in the darkness a soft voice answered her.
"You're welcome, Miss Parker. Always welcome."
Miss Parker sighed heavily and forced herself back into the present. She could still feel Jarod's ghostlike touch on her cheek, wiping away a single tear.
Her phone rang and she picked up the receiver, deeply in thought. It was her father's voice that she heard on the other end, but she didn't really listen to him. She had rarely done so in the past few months. Miss Parker waited patiently until her father had ended his monologue. A bitter smile formed on her lips.
"I love you, Daddy."
The End!
