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Two Months Later

Los Angeles, California 

Miss Parker didn't know why she'd chosen to come to California, but knew only that something here had called to her.

 

She'd been standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon, marveling at the color that lived and seemed to echo through the large space beneath her when the powerful urge to see the ocean came to her.  She knew that Ethan was in California, and by extension Jarod, but this instinctive yearning for the smell of salt in the air and the feel of sand beneath her feet was too powerful to resist.

 

With no further thought she'd abandoned her contemplation of the desolate landscape and slid into her convertible and aimed it towards the coast.  She wouldn't rush herself, not anymore.  She'd spent a good chunk of her life rushing around, chasing after one goal or another.  She didn't want to fall into that trap again, even if it was by her own will.

 

She didn't follow the speed limit, loving the feel of her car strumming with energy under her hands, but she still managed to stretch out the driving to three days.  Three days where most of the time it was just her and the road.  Long expanses of flat land stretching around her, horizons that blurred between red, yellow, and blue until the only thing she could see was a long ribbon of steaming black concrete stretching into forever.  It was a nice feeling, being alone.  Her entire life Miss Parker had always known that someone was watching.  It was the way of the Centre.

 

For the first time in her life she was well and truly alone.

 

Again, it was a nice feeling.

 

She was heading to the City of Lost Angels, and no, the irony was not lost on her.

 

Parker was smiling when she got off Interstate 10 in Santa Monica, a bright place full of energy.  It was one of the last places gloomy old Miss Parker would have gone to, if only because the sun beat down hard enough to make suits feel oppressive.

 

She wasn't wearing a suit and hadn't even owned one since she'd left Blue Cove nine months ago.  When she pulled over by some random beach on some random road, she was wearing shorts, high cut jean shorts like she'd never been allowed to wear in her teenage years.  She didn't notice the appreciative looks men more ten years her junior sent her way as they waxed their surfboards.  She didn't even notice the appreciative way several scantily clad women sent her way.

 

All Miss Parker saw was the ocean, stretching out before her.  She walked past the crying babies, the burnt bimbos, and the posturing Adonises, stopping only inches from where the water licked at the sand.  She pulled off the large Gucci-style sunglasses she wore and squinted into the blazing sunlight.  People frolicked in the water, their laughter and joy overshadowing any problems they may have had.

 

Looking at the deep blue water that stretched out forever reminded her of her former home on the opposite coast, the same in so many ways yet different in a core way.  This water before her was warm, if not in temperature, then in nature.  Jumping into this water would be like returning to the womb, Mother Nature embracing her and making her pure of all her sins.

 

In Blue Cove the water was cold and had always seemed to be more an abyss waiting for her to fuck up so it could suck her down.  The water was so dark that is was almost black, and the rocks on the shore rising out of the water almost the same color but lacking the slick shine of the water.  As a child she'd been terrified of the water; as an adult she'd been wary.

 

Without realizing what she was doing Miss Parker toed off her sneakers and started into the water.  It was cold, bitingly so after standing the direct sun for so long.  It startled her but she appreciated it.

 

Without a broad smile that lit up her face she dived in, immersing herself in the aquamarine water with a silent laugh.  She waded out quickly, going deeper and deeper until her chest felt like it would burst from lack of air.

 

When Parker reached the surface she was blinded by the sun but she forced her eyes open anyways.  Everything was blurry that she saw but she realized a few things with alarming clarity.

 

She liked to be alone, but yearned for connections to others.

 

In some unconscious way she'd spent the past ten months running around this country trying to absolve herself of her sin, imagined or not.

 

Someone was watching her.

 

She floated in the water, her eyes scanning the man where he was badly hidden among the beach crowds.  He was blond, well-built, and badly hidden because he was wearing a suit.

 

A dark and depressing suit that didn't hide the bulge of the gun in a shoulder holster.

 

Suddenly the joy she'd felt at being in the water drained away.  She felt like the old Parker, paranoid and angry at the world.  Her palm and fingers itched for the rough pattern of her gun and she cursed the fit of obliviousness that had caused her to forget her gun in the car.  Of course, if she'd had her gun it'd be wet now and of little use to her; you can't fire a gun if the gun powder is wet.

 

 Finally, she made her decision.  No matter what "company" the man might be from he wouldn't make a move on her in public, especially not if she'd made a clear spectacle of herself.

 

Given that Miss Parker was wearing a white t-shirt, she'd definitely be making a spectacle of herself.

 

She began to wade through the water, her eyes on the man trying valiantly to hide in a place where there were no shadows.  The shallower the water got the more attention she began to receive, though she had been receiving a fair bit of attention in the first place.  Miss Parker wasn't a prude but she wasn't an exhibitionist and she felt the heat of blush sliding up her neck to her face.  She was wearing a bra underneath the shirt but under the eyes of her watchers it felt like nothing.

 

With the ease of meeting an old friend Parker pulled on her mask, the cool blank face she'd worn for years at the Centre.  Her eyes remained locked on her watcher, staring straight through him in an intimidation tactic that made most men quell.  The blond goon was definitely part of the majority.

 

Parker knelt as she walked to pick up her sneakers and continued toward her car, and by extension, past the stranger.  Several men made clear their appreciation, but the same look that had the stranger crossing his arms (and placing his hand too close to his gun for comfort) had them staying away.

 

When she was within a few feet of the man with the gun she stopped.  Despite her dress she looked unbearably regal as she stood in the sand, water dripping down her skin and landing with soft sounds in the white sand.  "If you pull that gun on me here, you won't live to regret it.  Understand?"

 

The calm authority in her voice had the man stunned in place.  He was clearly used to being given orders and was also just as clearly on his own here.  If he'd had a team with him he'd never have hesitated to try and take her as he did.  He paused in his confusion of the situation just long enough for Miss Parker to walk to her car and pull her gun out of the glove box.

 

She pointed at him, heedless to the gasping of those watching and the sudden movement of people away from them.  "Now you want to play, little boy?"  She waited while the blond slowly put his hands out, clearly unarmed.  She reached into his jacket and pulled out the gun, keeping her own pointed at him as he did so.  "Who do you work for?"

 

He didn't reply.

 

"Don't want to tell me?" She nodded in sync with him.  "Fine, you don't have to."  She hit him across the temple with the butt of her gun and sent him careening headfirst into the sand.  While he remained semi-conscious she stood over him and leaned down to whisper.  "Next time your bosses, whoever they might be, send someone after me, tell them to send a grown-up."

 

With her stalker unconscious and the immediate area deserted there was no opposition when Miss Parker slid into the driver's seat of her car and left the scene.  She kept the stranger's gun with her, however.  She'd throw it off a cliff later.

 
 

Jarod was a genius, a prodigy from childhood capable of feats that no one else on this Earth could do, at least not as quickly as he could.  Over the years he'd gotten used to this advantage, to being smarter than all those around him.  He was used to things coming to him, if not easily, then at least within expectations.

 

He hadn't expected Miss Parker to elude him for this long.  She'd well and truly disappeared into the ether and nothing he could think of could bring her to the light.

 

Ethan couldn't, or wouldn't, give him the specifics of what she was doing and where.  Any links she had with her past had been severed at various times, all within a month.  First with Broots, ten months ago when he'd moved away from Blue Cove; a phone call with him had confirmed that for Jarod.  It wasn't as if Broots was a very capable liar, even over the phone.

 

Less than a month later Parker had exchanged her last call with Sidney, as well.  Sid wouldn't reveal much but just enough to make sure that Jarod knew that Parker had left of her own free will.  It wasn't a comfort to Jarod, however, to know that, because the fact remained that even for a Pretender his childhood friend was remaining out of reach.

 

The longer this search of his went on the more it began to affect him.  In the beginning, though worried, it hadn't been a high priority.  Between setting up his new life and getting to know his family, he'd used his spare time to look for Miss Parker.  He'd started with internet searches and calls to her few friends.  Within a month of that, however, it became clear that it was leading nowhere.

 

That's when the search became more detailed and by extension, began to take more time.  For normal people the instinctive need to run and hide could be easily predictable.  Miss Parker was neither normal nor predictable because of a combination of her past and her abilities.  She was as intelligent as he was and as capable of becoming whoever she wanted to be when she wanted to be.

 

Clearly right now she didn't want to be found, which was just too damn bad for her because Jarod was going to find her.

 

It wasn't so much just a matter of concern anymore.  Now she'd gotten his ego involved.  It was an affront to Jarod that anything proved to be a problem to him for this long.  Again, he'd gotten used to being in control of the situation, of knowing the next move in the game.

 

His bedroom door creaked behind him but he didn't turn.  His fingers were flying over the keyboard as he scanned through police records across the country searching for any description matching Parker's, and sorting through the numerous ones that came up on the reports.

 

"Jarod?"

 

Jarod paused in mid-type to glance over his shoulder.  "Yeah, Mom?"

 

"You worked through dinner again," she explained with a soft smile, placing a plate of food on one of the few clear spots on his desk.  The many lines on her face from years of running from the Centre had eased in the last year, returning to her some of the glow and beauty of her youth.  Shadows still haunted her eyes, however, and sometimes Jarod was willing to do anything to make them go away.

 

"Sorry," he smiled sheepishly, "guess I got caught up again."

 

His mother ran a small hand through his hair, thick and standing up straight from his own hands tugging at it over the past few hours.  "Still no sign of her?"

 

Jarod knew his mother's opinion on this subject, as well as everyone else's in the family.  His relatives were strong people, and their opinions matched that.  Some of them understand his need to find Miss Parker, some didn't.  The arguments had already been said and dismissed.  They couldn't stop him from doing this, but could only trust that he knew what he was doing.

 

Thankfully, his mother was one of the few that understood his need.  She'd known Catherine Parker, after all.

 

"No.  She's not showing up on any of the databases I've searched, but I didn't think she would.  Most likely she's staying off the radar.  Ethan says she's moving around, but if she is she's staying out of trouble, which is very un-Parker-like."

 

"Maybe," his mother started softly as she took a small step back from him so that he would look her in the face, "you should leave her be.  She doesn't want to be found."

 

Jarod pushed away from the desk and stood, pacing to the window and back.  "It's not about what she wants, it's about helping her.  Ethan says she's in danger and doesn't realize it.  I can't just go on with my life not knowing whether she's okay or not."

 

"Because you're connected?"

 

"Yes, because we're connected.  Parker..."  Jarod shook his head and sat down heavily in his chair.  "She was my first friend.  My first love.  My first kiss.  Parker was my first everything."

 

His mother's cool hands lifted his head and she brushed a kiss across his brow.  "Maybe you're trying too hard.  I'm not saying stop searching, Jarod," she explained before he could speak again.  "I'm saying you're eating yourself up with this.  You can't do her any good if you're exhausted."

 

With another kiss, she was gone and Jarod was left facing the facts.

 

Maybe he was trying too hard.

 

With a few clicks of the mouse the search could continue without him for a few hours.  Though the food on his plate smelled great, he had no appetite at the moment, so he moved to the bed to lie down.  In his head, all the things he'd learned continued to pass through his mind.

 

Sidney telling him what he thought Parker might be going through...

 "She's moving into the world without the Centre constantly baiting and manipulating her, Jarod.  She doesn't know what she wants to do.  Just as you experienced the world with new eyes when you escaped, she too needs to be alone for a while.  She needs to see the world for herself.  Give her time." 

Broots too telling him to give her time...

 

 "Last time we spoke she wished me luck, something very not like her.  I kinda figured then that it would be the last time we spoke.  I don't know if it's forever, I keep imagining she and Sam are gonna show up one day to drag me back to that place.  You know, Debbie doesn't even ask about her anymore.  For a while it was everyday, 'Where's Miss Parker?', 'What's she doing?'.  Then, suddenly, she just stopped.  I think we all need time to get over the Centre." 

Jarod's eyes were slowly drifting closed when what Broots had said floated through his head.

 

As quickly as sleep had tried to drag him down he was wide awake and heading for the computer, his revelation fresh in his mind.

 

Debbie hadn't stopped asking about Parker because time had passed and she'd forgotten.


She'd "suddenly" stopped asking because Miss Parker had contacted her.

 
 

By the time Miss Parker made it out of L.A. she was hot and tired and tired of the damn traffic.  She was also almost out of gas.

 

It took her ten minutes to make her way to an exit ramp, and another five to find a gas station.  Squealing into a free spot, and cutting off another car, earned her a profanity laden yell and some rude gestures, which she angrily smiled off.  It was just her luck to find the one gas station with no credit card machine built into the pump.

 

After pumping her gas she headed for the small store on the other side of the lot, avoiding the cars moving around as she did so, but nearly getting clipped by a truck anyways.

 

Had she mentioned that she hated L.A., yet?

 

Inside there was a line for the cashier seven people deep so she moved through the store to find something to make coming in here worth it.  Singing hamster doll?  Trucker hat the said, in a cliché, "Keep on truckin'!"?  Neither appealed to her and the line showed no sign of getting smaller.  The back door was open and a cool breeze drifted through, enticing her to walk closer even as she attempted to fan herself with her credit card.

 

A loud yelp had her jumping hard enough to drop it.  With a small grumble she picked it up and moved to see what the loud noise had been, forgetting her rush to get out of this hellhole and back on the road.

 

Just outside the door a large but surprisingly clean man stood over a cage and proceeded to use a sharp stick to poke at the poor animal within.  It appeared to be a dog, a very thin dog that growled through the crisscrossing wires but still yelped in pain when the stick hit.  Parker's teeth began to grind as she stepped closer to the man.

 

She'd always hated bullies, even if she was one.

 

She snatched the stick from the man with no thought and poked him in the side with it.  Then she did it again and again.

 

"What the hell is wrong with you, lady?!" The man asked, trying to pull the object from her hands but failing.  He was Caucasian, sunburned, and wore a shirt with the gas station's logo on it.

 

"What the hell is wrong with you, moron?  Do you like how it feels?  Huh?  Do you?"

 

"No!" He exclaimed, finally pulling the stick from her hands and looking like he'd like to use it on her now.


Parker's gun was in her hand without her even thinking about it.  "Open the cage."  When he hesitated and froze under the deadly glare off the weapon in her hand, she cocked the gun, the sound startlingly loud in the small space behind the station.  It was an action that wasn't necessary but made for a great intimidation technique.  "Now."

 

Shaking in his boots, the man pulled open the door, sending the dog scampering out.  Parker glanced at the dog, saw that the animal was scared but seemed otherwise alright, and turned back to the abuser.  "Get in the cage."

 

"I can't fit in there."

 

"Make yourself fit," she said harshly, the look in her eyes making it clear she was serious.  He was a large man, not just tall but also wide, and truthfully she didn't think he could fit.  She didn't doubt that he would try to, however.

 

Surprise of surprise, he did fit.  Parker locked him in there with glee and turned back to the store.  Just behind her the dog sat and looked at her with unreadable eyes.  Parker cocked her hip as she put her gun away and studied the animal.  It was a Doberman Pinscher, a naturally thin and lethal looking animal.  Thanks to under-feeding it was even skinnier than it should have been and looked almost skeletal.  She felt sympathy for the animal, but wasn't sure what to do now that she'd freed it.

 

If it'd been a person, she'd have given them the sharpened stick and let them have a go at their abuser.

 

Finally, she shook her hand at the animal.  "Go away.  I'm done, now."

 

With some caution, abused animals were known to be violent, she stepped back into the station and marched towards the cashier.  She gave no further thought to the animal.

 

"I'd like to pay for my gas now," she said as she slid her card across the counter.

 

The cashier, a pimple-faced teenager popping her gum, took the card and looked at it closely.  "Sara Perkins?  Can I see some I.D.?"

 

Parker arched an eyebrow coldly.  "No."

 

The girl shrugged and ran the card anyways, and Parker prayed she never had her identity stole if this was how merchants treated it.

 

With that done, Parker moved to return to her car, stepping back into the muggy heat with a hiss of irritation.  She didn't even pay much attention to her car until she slid into the driver's seat...

 

...and found a dog in her passenger seat.

 

She glared and bared her teeth in clear anger.  "Get out of my car."

 

The dog lay down, big brown eyes staring at her pitifully.

 

"Did you hear me, Lassie?  Get out!"

 

She even stood and walked around to open the passenger door.  "Do I look like an animal person?!"

 

The driver of the car across from her started to say something, but went silent when Parker turned her glare onto him.

 

Slowly, Parker closed the door and stood staring down at the dog.  "You think I need a pet?  I don't have a home, dog.  No yard, no kids for you to play with or you know, eat since that's what your type seems to like to do.  I have no room in my life for a dog."

 

The people in the cars around her seemed unconcerned with her passenger.

 

Finally, she moved back around the car and into the driver's seat.  "Look, I'll buy you a burger and take you to an animal shelter, but that's it.  That's all I'm doing."

 

 Imagine her surprise when she was halfway to Vegas and the dog was still in her car.

 





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