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

- Text Size +

Disclaimer: The Characters Miss Parker, Sydney, Jarod, Broots and The Center are all property

of MTM, TNT and NBC Productions and are used without permission. No profit has been made...you know the drill.

Of Envy and Darkness

03/22/04

Part11 – By Phenyx

-

“Come in,” Miss Parker called in response to the knock on her office door.

Mercedes’ dark form peered into the room. “Good morning, Miss Parker,” she smiled.

Parker smiled in return. The first week after she had moved out of the big house had been an uncomfortable one for them. The tension between the two women had been so thick as to be nearly visible. They had conducted themselves in a stern business like manner that had seemed as false as it was strained.

The second week had been better. Jarod had shown up on Monday morning in an incredibly foul mood. His snarling response to nearly every statement had been more reminiscent of Parker’s behavior than that of the easy-going pretender. The women had been forced to form an unspoken allegiance in an effort to create a defense against Jarod’s unpredictable ire. At times, he’d been just plain nasty.

In a way, Parker understood Jarod’s mood. It must be incredibly hard for him to leave his parents’ home only to return to The Centre. In the weeks that had passed, Jarod had unfailingly taken off for Georgia each Friday afternoon, not returning until he had to be at work on Monday morning.

“Have you talked to him yet?” Mercedes asked, cautiously stepping into the room.

“Didn’t realize he was back,” Parker shook her head.

“He is,” the other woman sighed. “Do your best to avoid him if possible. He’s in a real snit.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Parker snickered. It looked like this was going to be a typical Monday.

Mercedes’ dark eyes gazed at her intently for a long moment. “Are you free for lunch?” she asked finally.

Parker hesitated. Though they were getting along fine for the time being, this brief encounter was the longest personal conversation the two women had shared since their argument three weeks ago.

“We need to talk,” Mercedes urged.

“Okay,” Parker agreed.

“Good.” Mercedes turned and strode toward the door. “Clear your afternoon. We’ll go to Etienne’s.”

“Noon?” Miss Parker asked.

Mercedes nodded. Pausing for a moment as she stood in the corridor, Mercedes glanced over her shoulder at Miss Parker. “Let’s leave the boys behind, shall we?”

“Alright,” Parker said. Ditching Sam wouldn’t be a problem. He wouldn’t be happy about it, but Parker knew that the sweeper would do as he was told.

--

Parker had been right about Sam. Once she had fully briefed him on where she would be and promised to check in at regular intervals, Sam had relented. He’d even loaned Parker his car. Granted, she had literally demanded it but he had handed over the keys with little fuss.

The drive into Dover with Mercedes had been a quiet one. They spoke little and when they did it was about Centre business. It wasn’t until they had reached the restaurant and had been shown to their seats that Mercedes broached the subject she wanted to discuss.

“Lord McCuffe has announced his retirement from the Triumvirate,” the dark woman abruptly said.

“I heard,” Parker replied as she sipped at a glass of water. “My understanding is that he wants to spend time with his ailing wife.”

Mercedes nodded. “The Triumvirate has contacted Jarod about the opening.”

“They’ve offered Jarod a seat on the Triumvirate?” Parker gasped.

“Didn’t he tell you?” Mercedes asked with surprise.

“No,” Parker said, frowning. “Jarod has been rather tightlipped lately. I think he may be avoiding me.”

“It’s not just you,” Mercedes said. “He’s been very withdrawn in general. He’s not even talking to Sydney.”

Parker shrugged. “He’s upset about the breakup,” she said. Glancing up guiltily Parker added, “I wish you’d told me that you were going to end it with him.”

“I didn’t know,” Mercedes admitted. “It wasn’t until I told him that you were gone, and saw the resulting look on his face, that I realized it was over between us. Hell,” she added with a shrug. “It never really started.”

The conversation stopped as a waiter approached and took their orders. When the young man left, Parker sighed forlornly and said, “Still, staying in the same house must be difficult for you both.”

“I don’t think Jarod’s behavior has much to do with me,” Mercedes denied. “I realize that he wanted more but he just isn’t acting like I’ve broken his heart. I get the distinct impression that he is more angry with himself than with me.”

“If you’ve asked me here to validate your opinion, you’ve come to the wrong person,” Parker quipped. “I never see him outside of staff meetings.”

“Actually,” Mercedes said with a shrug. “The reason I wanted to have lunch has absolutely nothing to do with Jarod.”

Parker’s eyebrows rose inquisitively.

“He doesn’t want the Triumvirate seat,” Mercedes explained. “But he wants to be sure that the position is filled by someone who supports his leadership.”

Parker nodded, knowing what was coming next. “He’s offered it to you,” she said knowingly.

“Yes,” Mercedes said. “And I’ve accepted. I leave for Africa at the end of the month.”

Parker blinked at the other woman in surprise as the waiter reappeared with their food.

“Jarod has tasked me with finding my own replacement,” Mercedes went on once they were alone again. “I was thinking that Mr. Broots seems highly capable.”

Parker nearly choked on her salad.

“You don’t agree?” Mercedes asked.

“Broots is the best,” Parker replied after the coughing subsided. “He’s very good at his job. But I’m not sure how well he can give orders.”

“I believe he can learn,” Mercedes smiled.

Parker nodded. “What does Broots think of this?” she asked.

“I wanted to discuss the idea with you first,” Mercedes admitted. There was a long pause as the women ate for a time. “Kurt would like to stay,” the dark-skinned woman said as she drained her wine glass.

“That’s fine,” Parker responded. “He’s a good man. I’m sure we can arrange to have his green card renewed.”

“Jarod promised to take care of it,” Mercedes told her.

“This will sound trite,” Parker said. “But you will be missed.”

Dark eyes sparkled as Mercedes smiled. “I never intended to stay in the States for this long,” she said. “You were right. It’s time to go home. But there are many things in America that I will miss.”

“Like Jarod,” Parker nodded.

“Like you Miss Parker,” the dark woman said. “We haven’t always gotten along. But I feel that we have a great deal in common. The experiences we have shared make us more than just friends.”

Parker huffed in disbelief.

Mercedes reached out and took Miss Parker’s hand. “We don’t always like the people we love,” she whispered.

The restaurant wavered around them and vanished into the sweltering heat of an African savanna. Two girls stood under the blinding sun, grinning at each other as hot gusts of wind blew through their hair.

“I will never forget you, Sister,” whispered through their minds. “Forgive me.”

“No,” Parker’s voice answered. “There is nothing to forgive. You did nothing wrong.”

The other dinners abruptly reappeared as reality snapped into focus around them.

“I’m the one who is sorry,” Parker smiled wryly. “I made things difficult for you.”

“It’s been a difficult situation,” Mercedes admitted. With a smile she added, “But then, things have never been easy for the two of you.”

“There’s the understatement of the century,” Parker smirked.

“Why do you fight the feelings you both so obviously have for each other?” Mercedes asked.

Parker shrugged. “You said it yourself,” she sighed. “Things have never been easy for us.”

“I half expected my involvement to escalate the relationship between you and Jarod,” Mercedes said as she crunched at her food. “It surprised me that you left.”

Parker stared thoughtfully at her plate. “Its not that I wasn’t jealous. I was. I still am,” she admitted.

“Will it be easier when I’m gone?” Mercedes asked.

“I doubt it,” Parker scoffed. “Especially with the mood he’s been in lately.”

“I wish I knew what was bothering him,” Mercedes sighed as she pushed aside her empty plate.

“I’ll find out,” Parker said. “Sooner or later, I will figure it out.”

--

Over the next couple of weeks, Parker and Mercedes spent a great deal of time together. Despite the differences between them, they did share a very unique bond. Parker had seldom had good friends in her life so she refused to let go of the strange connection that had formed with Mercedes. Jarod became a strictly taboo topic between them as the two women prepared for Mercedes’ trip to Africa.

For Miss Parker, Mercedes’ departure marked the end of a significant phase of life at The Centre. The transition of power was complete. Parker no longer thought of the chairman’s office as her father’s. It was Jarod’s office. Day to day activities at the Centre ran as smoothly as if Jarod had always been in charge.

Life took on a stability, a daily routine that was odd in its normality. Jarod and Parker worked together all week and accomplished a great deal. They functioned well together, each perfectly supporting the other’s talents. But then, that wasn’t unusual. Past experience had proven that they made an excellent team.

Every Friday, Jarod went to Georgia to spend time with his family. Every Monday he appeared at The Centre with a face as dark and brooding as a stormy night. The strange thing about Jarod’s behavior was that his mood did little to improve as the weekend approached.

Parker did her best to be patient with the pretender, as difficult as it was. She knew that Jarod could not be pushed into revealing anything before he was ready. Parker had known him long enough to know that much. Pressing would only make him more withdrawn. She knew that Jarod would talk when he was ready, and not before. She could only hope that he would be ready before she blew her calm exterior and put a bullet in him.

“What do you think of this Colonel O’Neill?” Jarod asked as they walked toward the elevator after a meeting one afternoon.

Parker shrugged. “He was along for the ride,” she said. “He obviously didn’t have a clue what our research was about. The Major on the other hand,”

“Yeah,” Jarod agreed. “I noticed her too.”

“She’s hard not to notice,” Parker smirked. “A pretty blond thing like that.”

Jarod rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I meant,” he said. “Did you notice the way she was looking at the specs? Like a dog eying a juicy bone. She’s got something in mind for this project. Some alternate purpose for the device.”

“I picked up on that too,” Parker agreed with a nod.

“Makes me damned nervous,” Jarod grumped. “I really hate working with the military. I can never be sure what they have up their sleeves.” He stormed into his office with a frown on his face. The pretender chewed on his lower lip for a moment before coming to an abrupt decision. “Stall the program,” he stated firmly. “Cancel our next meeting with them and don’t reschedule.”

Just like that, another project died an untimely death. The current research would be gathered up and filed away somewhere until it collected dust. Jarod would be forced to jump through a few financial hoops to make up for the loss but he would manage. He always did. Finding creative new sources of income wasn’t easy. But it was the price of a clear conscience, as Jarod would say.

“Are you busy this evening Miss Parker?” Jarod asked.

The sudden change of topic took Parker a bit by surprise. “No,” she responded.

“Go for a ride with me,” Jarod said.

“Aren’t you flying to your parents’ house today?” Parker asked.

“Not tonight,” Jarod replied.

Parker shrugged. “Okay. Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” Jarod smiled. “I want to show you something.”

“Okay,” Parker said again. She turned to leave, needing to wrap up a few things in her office before she left for the weekend. As an afterthought, she cast a wary glance back at her employer. “What should I wear?” she asked cautiously.

“Nothing that you don’t want to replace,” Jarod answered.

“Uh oh,” Parker frowned.

Unsure of what Jarod’s little surprise had in store for her, Parker did her best to be prepared for anything. When the pretender picked her up in front of her house a few hours later, Parker was wearing blue jeans and an old pair of running shoes. She carried an oversized bag that held a change of clothes, another pair of shoes and an extra sweater.

Jarod eyed her with amusement as she climbed in the car and tossed her bag into the back seat.

Parker raised one eyebrow with a ‘have-you-got-a-problem-with-that?’ glare.

Without a word being spoken between them, Jarod put the engine in gear and they headed down the road. They didn’t drive for long. Less than twenty minutes later, Jarod turned down a quaint little road that led toward the ocean. The street didn’t really end so much as it disappeared into a sandy beach.

Pulling to a stop, Jarod got out of the car and leaned against the vehicle. “Well,” he asked. “What do you think?”

Parker stood and followed the direction of Jarod’s gaze. They were standing in front of a small beach house that had seen better days. Even in the bright afternoon sunlight, Parker couldn’t tell if the house was blue or gray, the paint was just that old. The windows had the dusty look of abandonment and more than one pane was cracked. In the scraggle of weeds that passed for a yard stood a tilting “For Sale” sign.

“It needs help,” Parker observed wryly.

“Don’t we all?” Jarod answered, his voice laced with forlorn sadness.

The pretender opened the trunk and removed two items, a big cardboard box and a placard roughly one foot tall by two feet wide. He carried the latter to the crooked real estate sign and popped the “Sold” notice into the grooves made to hold it.

Parker felt the edges of her mouth curl into a smile as she watched Jarod step back and admire the cottage.

“I signed the papers this morning,” he said. “It’s mine.”

“Congratulations,” Parker said with complete sincerity. “Can we go inside?”

Grinning from ear to ear, Jarod pulled a key from his pocket, hefted the box onto his hip and led Parker up to the old wooden door. The hinges squeaked as they entered the dusty building.

For the most part, the interior consisted of one large room. The small kitchen was separated from the larger living space by a high counter, undoubtedly meant to double as an eating area. The opposite wall consisted of a sliding glass door that faced the ocean. To the left was a door that led to a bedroom and a comfortably sized bath.

Parker wandered through the empty house, peeking into closets and checking the ceiling. The walls needed paint and there was some tile that would have to be replaced. The lighting was minimal with only two ceiling bulbs in the entire place. But the foundation seemed solid and there were no water stains that would have indicated a leaking roof.

“It’s been neglected for a long time,” Parker observed. “But there is a lot of potential here. A good scrubbing and a little paint will do wonders. It’s a nice little house Jarod.”

“I knew you would see it the way I do,” the pretender said with a smile. “The real estate agent tried to talk me out of it.”

“Probably hoping to sell you something bigger,” Parker guessed.

“Probably,” Jarod agreed. “Come see the best part.” Eagerly grabbing Parker’s hand Jarod pulled her to the glass doors. With a little coaxing, the door slid open onto a large wooden deck that led to the beach.

The flat wooden expanse was almost as big as the living area inside. There was a waist high railing that enclosed the area except at the far end where stairs led down to the sand. It didn’t seem too old, and aside from needing to be cleaned, the deck was in very good shape.

Parker turned toward Jarod and smiled. The pretender was sitting on the only piece of furniture she’d seen in the place, a heavy maple chaise lounge chair. Much sturdier than a typical folding deck chair, this piece had evidently been too bulky and awkward for relocation. Even stretched out in relaxation, Jarod’s long frame fit comfortably on the chair with plenty of room to spare.

“The sunrise from this spot must be spectacular,” Jarod whispered with awe.

Glancing over her shoulder, Parker gazed at the horizon. “I’m sure it is,” she agreed.

“Let’s wait and find out,” Jarod suggested.

Raising one eyebrow at him, Parker said, “Sunrise is a good twelve hours away Jarod.”

The pretender shrugged.

“What the hell,” Parker said indulgently. “I’ve got nowhere else to be.”

Crossing the deck, Parker sat on the chair in an available space beside Jarod’s knees. Together they sat in silence for a while, watching the waves beat methodically against the shore.

“Are you hungry?” Jarod asked after a time. At her expectant look, Jarod reached over and pulled the cardboard box across the wooden floor toward him. Folding back the lid, he grinned mischievously and said, “I brought supplies.”

“Always the boy scout,” Parker smirked.

Jarod pulled a bottle from the box and turned the label so Parker could see it.

“An ’82 Latour,” Parker whistled appreciatively. “I’m impressed.”

“You should be,” he said haughtily. Jarod carefully produced two wine goblets and a corkscrew. He served the wine and then settled back to gaze at the ocean again.

Parker sipped at her glass and savored the fine blend. Staring intently at the deep dark liquid, she asked, “What do your parents think about your house?”

Jarod shrugged. “I haven’t told them yet.”

As nonchalantly as possible, Parker continued. “Fixing it up will take some time,” she said. “Are you planning to hire the job out?”

“I thought I’d do it myself,” Jarod answered.

“This is a pretty big step,” Parker said. “Home ownership is a commitment of sorts. You’re establishing roots.”

“I suppose so,” Jarod replied.

Parker quietly drank another fourth of her wine before speaking again. “Want to talk about it?” she asked.

“What?” Jarod asked innocently.

“The fact that you have just purchased a marvelous excuse for not going to Georgia every weekend,” Parker pointed out. “You’ll be too busy fixing things to head south as often.”

Jarod shrugged noncommittally and reached into the box again. “Hungry?” he asked.

Parker looked at the plastic bag he was offering her and began to laugh. “Jarod,” she scolded him. “You aren’t drinking a three hundred dollar bottle of wine with handfuls of trail mix!”

“Why not?” Jarod cried. “What makes this less appropriate than crackers and caviar?”

Shaking her head in long suffering amusement, Parker reached over and took a handful of the assorted nuts and dried fruit.

Crunching contentedly Jarod smiled. “Tastes better than smelly old fish eggs anyway,” he crooned.

“You are a strange man,” Parker snickered.

“It’s part of my charm,” Jarod responded as his eyes sparkled mischievously.

This provoked another delighted bout of laughter from Miss Parker. “Yes, it is,” she agreed. Parker swung one leg onto the chair, folding it at the knee so that she was facing Jarod.

Jarod sighed, suddenly serious again. The glimmer melted from his eyes and he abruptly seemed very sad. “This is so easy with you,” he murmured. Reaching out he ran his fingertips down Parker’s cheek. “We just, click somehow.”

“You’re having a hard time with your folks,” Parker began to understand.

“It’s just like my relationship with Mercedes,” Jarod said staring intently into his glass. “My parents have this hole in their lives. There is this emptiness where their little boy used to live.” He swallowed a long gulp of wine before continuing. “I want to fill that spot for them.”

“But you can’t,” Parker said.

Jarod glanced away, trying unsuccessfully to hide his distress. “I’m not that little boy. I just don’t fit into that place in their lives anymore.”

Placing one hand on his knee, Parker said reassuringly, “Give it time Jarod. You’ve been separated for so many years.”

The pretender looked up at her woefully. “I can give it all the time in the world, Parker,” he whispered. “But I’ll never really fill that spot quite right. I can never replace the child they lost.”

“Maybe not,” Parker answered with a sigh. “But the man you’ve become is no less deserving of their love. Your family loves you. They may not know you or quite understand you, but they do love you.”

“How can you be so sure?” Jarod asked.

Parker reached into the bag of snacks and stared meaningfully at the treats in her palm. Cocking one eyebrow at the pretender she drawled, “What’s not to love?” With a playful smirk, she threw back her head and tossed the entire handful into her mouth.

Jarod smiled. Gazing into his nearly empty glass he said, “I keep trying to find a way to make this easier for them.”

“Putting a family back together after thirty years is a hard thing to do,” Parker said as she munched on a peanut. “There’s no simple way to do it.”

“But there must be something I can do,” Jarod frowned. “Some way that I can make them...”

“No!” Parker snapped, suddenly angry. “You can’t make them do anything.” Her eyes flashed with irritation. “The people who love you are not pieces on a chessboard. We are not some puzzle that you need to figure out or tokens in a simulation.”

Jarod abruptly went very still, gazing intently at Parker for a long minute.

Carelessly flipping her hair away from her face, Miss Parker shrugged away her annoyance. “Pour me some more wine,” she demanded, holding out her glass.

Jarod obediently refilled the crystal. A smile spread across his face as he poured wine for himself as well. Grinning with delight the pretender held his glass up in the air for a toast. “You said ‘we’,” Jarod purred.

“Yes,” Parker smiled indulgently. “I did.” The crystal chimed as she brought her glass to meet his.

The two sipped at the wine in silence as the sun set and darkness fell over the beach. Unable to see the waves, they simply listened to the soothing sound of surf against the shore.

“Thank you, Miss Parker,” Jarod said in a voice barely more than a whisper.

“For what?” she asked, not turning to look at him.

“For this,” Jarod shrugged. “For understanding. For being the piece that actually fits in the puzzle that is my life. Or maybe I’m the one that is fitting in your life,” he added with a smile.

Parker nodded. “Either way. Same thing really.”

With a shiver, Parker rotated on the chair and scooted backward, nudging Jarod over so that she curled comfortably at his side.

“There’s a blanket in the car if you’re cold,” Jarod told her.

“This is fine,” she drawled. When Jarod put one arm around her, Parker snuggled contentedly against him. “Very nice.”

“So,” Jarod said with a practiced calm. “What shall we do for the next ten hours?”

Parker craned her neck to glare up at him playfully. “I’m sure a smart boy like you will think of something,” she purred. She had to stifle her laughter when she heard Jarod swallow nervously.

“I do have a few ideas,” Jarod murmured. Tentatively at first then with increasing confidence, Jarod ran his fingertips across the back of Parker’s neck. He gently caressed first one shoulder blade and then the other. Tiny shivers trailed down her arms as he tenderly stroked the backside of one arm from tricep to wrist. The pretender’s fingers spayed across the small of her back teasing aside her shirt until he could touch her flesh.

“You son of a bitch,” Parker growled with seductive laughter. “You’re frisking me.”

Grinning like a wayward child caught in the cookie jar, Jarod shrugged. His soft purr of laughter sent a bolt of need shooting through Parker’s body. Then the pretender bent and nuzzled a long soft kiss against the curve of her jaw.

“Mmmm,” the pretender sighed. “You smell good.” He ran his tongue along her collarbone, tasting her flesh. “Taste good too.” Jarod shifted abruptly, turning to haul Miss Parker onto his lap. As he gazed up into her smiling face, Jarod laughed joyfully.

“What’s so funny, Rat boy?” Parker asked.

“This,” Jarod pulled her closer in demonstration. “I never thought we’d manage it. Not without handcuffs and some rope at any rate.”

With her tongue, Parker grazed the skin just below Jarod’s lower lip, eliciting an eager moan of pleasure from them both. “The night is still young,” she breathed. “And I finally have you at my mercy.”

“Exactly where I’ve always wanted to be.”

-

The end.

Author’s Note: Yes, all this build up to get them together and I end the story just as they are getting started. It seemed to be the proper thing to do. It is a story of the journey rather than the description of the destination. Thank you for reading. Whether you liked it or hated it, you read it and for that I am humbly grateful. Special thanks to those of you who went out of the way to tell me what you thought, good or bad, about the story and the characters.









You must login (register) to review.