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Author's Chapter Notes:
The Miss Parker in this story is the season three Miss Parker - who, I believe, just might have it in her to make this fan fic slightly, remotely plausible - parts of it at least. I’m not sure where the Angst Faeries are this evening - they’re usually hovering around whenever I even think about the Pretender, whapping me over the head if I stray from the path of pain and torture. However, though their influence is definitely absent from this particular fic, I still wouldn’t expect a happy ending. I honestly don’t think I have it in me to write one.

 

Setting: Anytime after ‘Wake Up’ cause Tommy boy is dead and gone.

Disclaimer: The Pretender universe, and all therein, isn’t mine. The story is mine, however. So sue me if you want to, oh mighty PTB. You may take my money, but you’ll never take my freedom.


IN LIMBO

by Diamond


"Stop, Jarod!" she barked, panting from the chase.

He skidded to a halt ten metres away from her, and she saw him visibly stiffen his shoulders before turning to face her.

"Miss Parker. What a nice surprise."

"Shut up," she snapped, and then paused. This was where she usually went on about how she’d shoot him if he moved, that he wasn’t going to get away this time, and that it was time for him to return to the Center. But instead she said, "God, I can’t believe I finally have you at gunpoint, with none of those bumbling idiots around to give you a chance to escape. And you won’t escape, Jarod…" There it was again. That hesitation. And Jarod just looked at her, with that calm, confident expression - though she knew behind the facade his brain was working at a frantic pace, assessing the situation.

For once, she actually wished he would say something. Comment on how proud her mother would be. Say she really was her father’s daughter after all. Maybe even bring up Thomas, and what would he think of her now? Because if he did say anything of the sort, she would get nice and angry, annoyed enough to want to drag him back to the Center.

But for once, he remained silent. And because he did, it was her own mind that came up with those ideas. As she stood, still breathing rapidly, gun pointed at his head, all she could think was what would her mother think? How sad, how disappointed she’d be. And Thomas… he never knew this side of her… what would he think?

And Jarod. What good would he be anyway, locked up again in that hell hole? Any hope of finding whoever was responsible for murdering Tommy and her mother would be gone.

God damnit. She couldn’t believe her own treacherous thoughts were tyring to justify this.

"Damn." She suddenly spoke aloud, and Jarod started as if he’d been lost in his own thoughts. "God damnit! I don’t believe it. I don’t believe I’m going to let you go. God damnit!!" She really, really needed to hit something.

He just stared at her for a moment. "You’re letting me go? Why?"

He apparently had the good sense not to be smug about it, but she more than suspected he already knew why.

"Damnit!" she hissed again for good measure. "Because you’re the only one who can help me find out who really killed my mother. And who killed Thomas. And you can’t do that locked up." While she was speaking, she lowered the gun to her side, though Jarod still kept a wary eye on it. "But don’t get me wrong, Jarod, I’m only doing this because I’m alone and I can get away with it without it looking bad, or suspicious. So go already! What the hell are you waiting for? A written invitation? Lyle or the sweepers might turn up at any second."

"Your mother would be proud of you, Miss Parker."

She’d known he wouldn’t be able to leave without saying something like that. She rolled her eyes. "Your welcome," she drawled sarcastically. "Now get the hell out of here before I change my mind!"

He grinned in response - that crooked smile that was irritating and endearing all at once - and turned to go.

"Wait," she called, not entirely sure where the urge came from to do so. But, she thought as she stepped after him, if she was going to just let him go like this, she was at least going to get something out of it.

He turned around at her words. And it was the last thing he expected, she knew, when she reached up and grabbed him by the back of the head with both hands.

The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but it took her breath away. His lips, soft, and yet hard against hers - the taste, the jolt of sensation as their tongues met - the exquisite tickle as he breathed warm air from his nostrils against her cheek… Luscious. She wrenched herself back from him and met his slightly confused look with one of supreme satisfaction.

"What was that for?" he asked in a shocked and bewildered tone.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "You’re the one who’s always telling me I should leave the Center and do what I want, Jarod. Well, leaving the Center is out of the question. But that’s something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. Now go, Jarod," her tone hardened, "And hurry the hell up about it!"

There was still that expression of uncertainty on his face, and he hesitated a moment, as if leaving just then was the last thing he wanted to do. But then he appeared to come to his senses with a start, and he turned and sprinted away.

She watched him round the corner, and then headed off in the opposite direction in search of the others.

* * * * * *

The phone call came that night, as she’d known it would, just as she’d slipped out of her travel wrinkled clothing and into a cool silk robe.

"What?" she snapped into the receiver in her typical fashion.

"Miss Parker. Did you enjoy your stay in Pittsburgh?"

"Jarod," she sighed, and immediately decided to forgo the usual opening banter. "You know that if I ever get that close again, I probably won’t make the same decision," she announced without preamble.

"I don’t doubt it," he replied in a tone that suggested the exact opposite.

Damn, he was irritating.

She sighed again and asked, "Is there an actual point to this phone call?"

He seemed to hesitate before answering. "I couldn’t help wondering -"

"Don’t," she interrupted.

"Don’t what?"

"Don’t wonder. Don’t think. Don’t analyse and over-analyse. Just don’t."

There was a pause, and she could practically hear him shrugging in a non-committed fashion over the line.

"I just can’t help -"

"Jarod" she snapped, cutting him off again.

"It’s not my fault if I can’t turn off my brain automatically."

"Oh for God’s sake… Fine. Talk. Wonder. Wax lyrical. Whatever."

He ignored her impatient tone and continued without pause. "I was just wondering why you did it…"

She heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Because I felt like it. I thought I already explained that."

"I’m not sure whether to feel flattered or used," he said in that amused tone of his.

"You’re complaining?" she threw back at him.

"No," he answered so quickly she couldn’t help but be pleased

"So what’s your problem?"

"No problem…"

He hesitated again, and she loved the fact that this all had him so unsettled and unsure of himself.

"Was that really something you’ve wanted to do for a long time?" he managed finally.

"Well," she replied, deciding today was nothing if not a day for honesty. "I’d always planned a follow up to that first time. I just never imagined I’d have to wait twenty years to go through with it."

He cleared his throat. Another sure sign of his discomfort. She guessed it was not only because of the nature of this topic, but also because he thought he knew her so well. But he didn’t know this side of her - the playful, teasing side of her she only let show on the rarest occasions.

"Today… it was different from that other…"

She let out a short laugh at that. "Well what did you expect, Jarod, that I’d still kiss like a twelve year old?" When no answer was forthcoming, she went on, "I’ve changed quite a bit since then, you know."

"You’re not so different," he replied, and it suddenly seemed like he was back - the always confident, always cool, Jarod she was used to - and when he spoke again she was sure of it. "You try to hide it, but if you truly were the person you pretend to be, I’d be back at the Center tonight."

"Oh, spare me."

"If you want. I just wanted to thankyou for sparing me. And to thank you for the kiss. That’s two from your corner, now, Miss Parker. Anyone would think you liked me."

"Please. I was just indulging a pre-adolescent fantasy. Don’t go getting the wrong idea."

"I don’t think I could do that." And then, before she could think of a suitable retort to that, he said, "But at any rate, the next one’s on me."

"Oh I don’t think there’ll be a next one, Jarod. You’d never dare get close enough."

"We’ll see."

"Damnit, Jarod! Just because I let you go once doesn’t mean I’ll do it again."

"Like I said. We’ll see."

She seethed. No one could annoy her as quickly and efficiently as he could.

"Fine. Try it then - it’ll be amusing to see the attempt, and then it’ll be even more amusing to see you wrapped in chains and delivered back where you belong."

He sighed audibly, but made no reply. Her words left a bitter taste. And she couldn’t help but feel dismayed that there was only ever a certain point they could reach before reverting to positions of animosity. And yet at the same time she couldn’t see any way they could ever get past it.

"Jarod?" she asked after a few moments had passed, and she could hardly recognise the sound of her own voice.

"Yes, Miss Parker?"

His voice sounded strange too.

"Do you think… that this will ever end?" she asked finally, knowing he would understand what she meant.

"It can’t go on forever…"

The slight waver of uncertainty in his tone was one of the most frightening things she’d ever heard.

And suddenly there didn’t seem to be anything left to say. The silence stretched for a few seconds, then a few more, and she wondered for a fleeting, flippant moment if this wasn’t what limbo must be like.

"Well," his voice came jolting across the void, "I suppose I’ll be seeing you around, Miss Parker."

Her response came as easily as breathing. "You can count on it."

And really, what else could they do? It was impossible to go forward, so their only choice was to revert to the roles they were familiar with. The hunter and the fox.

"I will get you, Jarod," she said, because it seemed like the type of thing she would say.

"You’re forgetting, Miss Parker, you got me today. Now it’s my turn."

Then he hung up, which was to be expected, really, but annoyed her nonetheless.

And the dial tone sounded long and loud in her ear.

end


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