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A response to a challenge involving day/night, clicking and Jarod/Miss Parker, but no torture, romance or post IOTH. You can blame Blademistress, she made me do it.


The Pretendercentre: Sleepyhead Challenge


Jarod had fallen into a deep sleep, exhausted after a very long week with barely any sleep at all. Too exhausted to be woken by the faint sound of the door creaking open or the unmistakable clicking of what could only be high heels on the concrete floor. His nostrils flared as he breathed deeply of her perfume, but still that wasn’t enough to rouse him.

She peered through the darkness, having come alone, not believing that she could be so fortunate. And to catch the rat sleeping, it was too good to be true. Freezing as she saw him stir, her gun at the ready she held her breath, waiting for him to explode into life. When he didn’t, she breathed again and moved forward slowly.

“What a dump,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head in disapproval. It was messy too, candy papers and empty soda tins strewn all over the place. Her quarry was still sleeping though, and for once the gods were smiling on her. About damn time too.

Moving slowly across the floor, thinking she might just have to reconsider her choice of shoes next time as each step clicked and echoed loudly in the abandoned warehouse. Although, she smiled to herself, this would be the last time she would be forced to traipse through places such as this, once the rat was safely secured in a nice comfy Centre cell.

As she approached him, she could hear his breathing in the quiet, his chest rising up and down in a rhythmic sound that was almost pleasant. Gun extended, pointing at the rising and falling chest, she knew this was going to be the hardest part. Crouching down to minimise herself as a target in case he came to life suddenly, she approached the bed.

Oblivious to everything, Jarod slept on, the perfume though permeating his dreams which was both pleasant and frightening at the same time as fantasy blended with nightmare.

Pausing once again as Jarod stirred, Parker readied her gun, this time aiming it at something less vital, knowing that despite everything, she didn’t really want him dead. Injured maybe, but not dead. When it was clear he wasn’t going to wake, she pulled her handcuffs out. This was going to be tricky and knowing Jarod, he wasn’t going to make it easy for her.

Grabbing one wrist with a tenderness that belied her intent, she slowly tightened it around his right wrist, each click of the ratchet seeming to boom throughout the night. When it was secured, she breathed again. Knowing she wasn’t going to be able to turn him, she decided to cuff him to the bed head, which was solid steel. Fortune seemed to be smiling on her for once.

Moving his arm up slowly, with the gentleness of a lover, she finally had it positioned where she wanted, with only some minimal stirring from Jarod. She shook her head. “You should learn to rest more frequently, some genius,” she whispered. In another moment, she had his left wrist secured firmly in the cuffs, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

Parker let out the breath she didn’t realise she had even been holding as she stepped back, looking down at him triumphantly, tempted to wake him. If he was conscious though, that meant his mouth wouldn’t stop and that would only serve to piss her off.

Looking at her phone for a long moment, hesitating before dialling the number, she chastised herself for being sentimental and finally pressed the send button. Backup was four hours away so she decided to get comfortable. Well as much as she could while she kept her vigil through the night.

Jarod snapped awake with a scream dying on his lips as he realised he couldn’t move his arms and the fear slammed into him, taking his breath away. It must be early morning now, weak daylight trying to force its way in through the grubby windows. His eyes fell upon Miss Parker, who was clearly gloating and he heard the slide and click of her gun as she chambered a bullet.

“Don’t, Jarod, she snapped.

“Don’t what?” he asked, trying to get his bearings.

“Whatever you are about to say, I am not interested. It’s time to go home, and if you give me any grief you’re going to be sorry.”

“I’m sorry already,” he said sourly as he tested the cuffs.

“I am warning you, don’t, she said, her gun pointed at him.

“Alright,” Jarod said, forcing himself to relax. As he looked at her he knew fighting was not an option right now. She was alone, so that was promising. “This is not how I imagined things would turn out.”

“Hmmmn,” Parker snorted. “For once I’m in control, how does it feel?”

He looked at her incredulously, shaking his head. “In control? Is that what you think you have now? Can’t you see they control you just as they try to control me?”

“Shut up Jarod, you and I are not the same. When are you going to get that through your thick head? We’re as different as night and day and I’m tired of your crap, tired of you pulling my strings. It ends now.”

“You can’t do this….” Jarod started.

“Don’t…. tell me what I can’t do!” she practically snarled at him. “It’s over genius, you lost. Be a good sport.”

“Miss Parker, please.” Jarod said, pleading with her now, trying to reach the little girl he still cherished so dearly.

“Shut it, Monkey Boy, before I gag you.”

As the door opened and the sweepers came in, Jarod knew that any chance he had was now gone. “How could you do this to me?” he whispered.

“You shouldn’t go so long without sleep,” she said coldly, turning her back to him. “All yours, boys,” she said as she moved out of the warehouse, her heels clicking loudly, echoing in Jarod's ears.

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