In Transit by MMB
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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
In Transit - by MMB
Chapter Five: Epilogue
When she thought about it later, Miss Parker would never be able to pinpoint the exact reason she had roused from one of the first restful sleeps she'd enjoyed in weeks. She blinked several times, trying to get her bearings, then realized that the pillow beneath her head was moving rhythmically with the act of breathing, and there was something leaning against the top of her head. A little more thought, and she realized that she was nestled down against Sydney, her right arm stretched halfway across him. Both of his arms were folded around her shoulders and holding her close, his embrace like a comfortably warm and heavy blanket; and his head was down, his cheek having landed on the top of her head as he'd dropped off to sleep.
Still half-asleep, she blushed furiously, half-incensed, wondering what could possibly have happened since take-off for the old goat to risk emasculation and embrace her, holding her close to him as she slept as if she were a child. Then, as she came more awake, she remembered - remembered the nightmare, the brief, emotion-charged exchange between them that had followed it, and then remembered moving beneath at least one arm of her own free will. She instantly regretted the fact that her first thoughts of him had been ones filled with suspicion and had included such a derogatory label. She then blushed again, this time in embarrassment with the realization of just how much she had desperately needed the very paternal comfort and closeness he'd so freely offered her at the time. It was a habit she was going to have to break, she decided - automatically thinking badly of him - at least in the privacy of her own thoughts. She knew better now.
She relaxed again and lay quietly against him, listening to the soft sound of his heart in her ear. She knew on a very deep, personal level that somehow many of the emotional obstacles that had ever stood between herself and this very private and complicated man had been removed completely, irrevocably. It was long past time. He had, after all, been a part of her life ever since she could remember - sometimes an ally and sometimes a nemesis. Sometimes he'd been nothing but a damned nuisance when he'd assumed the role of surrogate father without her permission to chide her disapprovingly. Deep down, however, she'd always been touched that at least HE cared enough to communicate his disapproval to her when her own father never seemed to care enough to even notice her in the first place.
She'd taken his presence for granted for years, depended upon his constant support; but at a time when everything and everyone around her seemed to be in a state of flux, she couldn't afford to do that anymore. So he'd given her his word to be there for her, now and for as long as he could - and, knowing him and his record at keeping his promises, she knew he would never let her down for as long as he lived.
But still...
She shifted slightly, withdrew her right arm from across his chest, then shifted again a little more vigorously and felt him finally rousing from her movements. The weight lifted from the top of her head, giving her more freedom of movement, and she straightened and with some reluctance broke the warm circle of his embrace to sit up away from him and meet his waking gaze. Sleepy chestnut met apologetic grey, and first one arm and then the next fell back to his sides as he released her without a word. Then Miss Parker glanced around the passenger cabin; and, as Sydney roused even further and followed suit, he realized what she was doing and why.
Her reputation - what was left of it, under the circumstances - was safe. Broots and Sam were still both softly snoring away cluelessly in their respective seats. But as he and Miss Parker were looking around, the interior lights in the cabin slowly came back up to daytime levels, and Syd felt the first of the subtle pressure changes that signaled that the plane was descending, preparing to land. He realized that only few minutes more and the other two members of the team would have awakened to the sight of his cradling their tough, no-nonsense boss in his arms like a sleeping child. Knowing her and her aversion to being perceived as weak or needy, and even considering the slightly lowered defenses she'd demonstrated to all of them during their journey otherwise, he knew THAT event wasn't something she'd either want or need.
More awake now, he pulled his slightly rumpled clothing into some semblance of order again and straightened up in his seat, then leaned to his right and helped her shrug the blanket from about her shoulders without letting it drop to the floor. Then he bent forward and retrieved the psychiatric journal from where it had landed on the floor when he fell asleep earlier.
Settling back into her seat, Miss Parker quickly folded the blanket again and put it in her lap as she had the last time, folding her hands together on top of it. She turned to her left suddenly and put a gentle hand on his upper arm as it occurred to her that her companion might have misconstrued her suddenly and abruptly distancing herself. She hoped with a gesture to forestall his having any thoughts that she regretted the closeness they had shared that evening. Now was not a time for misunderstanding, and there was precious little time for privacy left.
"Syd?"
Instantly, his left hand covered hers and patted the hand on his arm comfortingly before falling back to the opposite armrest. "Don't worry," he replied quietly, leaning toward her only slightly. "You don't have to explain."
"Good." She smoothed her hand against the material of his suit sleeve, a gesture of fondness once saved solely for her father and now inexplicably appropriate for Sydney. She hoped he'd understand all that she meant by it. "Thanks," she said softly, then returned her hand to her lap.
"My pleasure," he replied in the same tone.
The meaning of her gesture hadn't been lost on him. While he knew without a single doubt that she was going to reassume her "Ice Queen" façade for the benefit of others very shortly, he also knew that she was telling him without words not to be fooled by it. This trip had not been without its accomplishments after all, he acknowledged with an inward smile. It was just that those accomplishments were very personal ones that not only had nothing to do with Jarod but did not ultimately serve the best interests of the Centre either.
Somehow, that fact didn't bother Sydney very much, and he really rather doubted it would bother Miss Parker at all.
As the pilot's voice came over the cabin loudspeaker announcing the impending arrival at the Centre airstrip, the two of them exchanged a quick glance that firmly cemented the new, strong and very private bond between them into a hidden corner of their relationship that only they could see or feel. Then, as if by mutual agreement, they simply looked away from each other and each watched in apparent fascination as both Broots and Sam roused abruptly at the crackle of the pilot's voice. Sydney could sense in the way Miss Parker's posture straightened and stiffened next to him that her public façade of tough independence and spit-fire arrogance was falling effortlessly into place while he, in his turn, just as easily donned his own comfortable and familiar public mask of scientific objectivity and detached, analytical curiosity.
For all intents and purposes, if anybody were to care to look, things would be precisely as they had been all along. She was the boss, the dominatrix, the Chairman's privileged daughter; and he was but a sometime sweeper team member and the psychological consultant to the hunt for the Centre's escaped Pretender. They were colleagues - nothing less, and nothing more. If they were to survive, this is how it would have to be.
After all, they were back in the Centre, where nothing and nobody was ever as they seemed - where lies and deceptions were the rule of the day.
They were home.
Fin.
Chapter Five: Epilogue
When she thought about it later, Miss Parker would never be able to pinpoint the exact reason she had roused from one of the first restful sleeps she'd enjoyed in weeks. She blinked several times, trying to get her bearings, then realized that the pillow beneath her head was moving rhythmically with the act of breathing, and there was something leaning against the top of her head. A little more thought, and she realized that she was nestled down against Sydney, her right arm stretched halfway across him. Both of his arms were folded around her shoulders and holding her close, his embrace like a comfortably warm and heavy blanket; and his head was down, his cheek having landed on the top of her head as he'd dropped off to sleep.
Still half-asleep, she blushed furiously, half-incensed, wondering what could possibly have happened since take-off for the old goat to risk emasculation and embrace her, holding her close to him as she slept as if she were a child. Then, as she came more awake, she remembered - remembered the nightmare, the brief, emotion-charged exchange between them that had followed it, and then remembered moving beneath at least one arm of her own free will. She instantly regretted the fact that her first thoughts of him had been ones filled with suspicion and had included such a derogatory label. She then blushed again, this time in embarrassment with the realization of just how much she had desperately needed the very paternal comfort and closeness he'd so freely offered her at the time. It was a habit she was going to have to break, she decided - automatically thinking badly of him - at least in the privacy of her own thoughts. She knew better now.
She relaxed again and lay quietly against him, listening to the soft sound of his heart in her ear. She knew on a very deep, personal level that somehow many of the emotional obstacles that had ever stood between herself and this very private and complicated man had been removed completely, irrevocably. It was long past time. He had, after all, been a part of her life ever since she could remember - sometimes an ally and sometimes a nemesis. Sometimes he'd been nothing but a damned nuisance when he'd assumed the role of surrogate father without her permission to chide her disapprovingly. Deep down, however, she'd always been touched that at least HE cared enough to communicate his disapproval to her when her own father never seemed to care enough to even notice her in the first place.
She'd taken his presence for granted for years, depended upon his constant support; but at a time when everything and everyone around her seemed to be in a state of flux, she couldn't afford to do that anymore. So he'd given her his word to be there for her, now and for as long as he could - and, knowing him and his record at keeping his promises, she knew he would never let her down for as long as he lived.
But still...
She shifted slightly, withdrew her right arm from across his chest, then shifted again a little more vigorously and felt him finally rousing from her movements. The weight lifted from the top of her head, giving her more freedom of movement, and she straightened and with some reluctance broke the warm circle of his embrace to sit up away from him and meet his waking gaze. Sleepy chestnut met apologetic grey, and first one arm and then the next fell back to his sides as he released her without a word. Then Miss Parker glanced around the passenger cabin; and, as Sydney roused even further and followed suit, he realized what she was doing and why.
Her reputation - what was left of it, under the circumstances - was safe. Broots and Sam were still both softly snoring away cluelessly in their respective seats. But as he and Miss Parker were looking around, the interior lights in the cabin slowly came back up to daytime levels, and Syd felt the first of the subtle pressure changes that signaled that the plane was descending, preparing to land. He realized that only few minutes more and the other two members of the team would have awakened to the sight of his cradling their tough, no-nonsense boss in his arms like a sleeping child. Knowing her and her aversion to being perceived as weak or needy, and even considering the slightly lowered defenses she'd demonstrated to all of them during their journey otherwise, he knew THAT event wasn't something she'd either want or need.
More awake now, he pulled his slightly rumpled clothing into some semblance of order again and straightened up in his seat, then leaned to his right and helped her shrug the blanket from about her shoulders without letting it drop to the floor. Then he bent forward and retrieved the psychiatric journal from where it had landed on the floor when he fell asleep earlier.
Settling back into her seat, Miss Parker quickly folded the blanket again and put it in her lap as she had the last time, folding her hands together on top of it. She turned to her left suddenly and put a gentle hand on his upper arm as it occurred to her that her companion might have misconstrued her suddenly and abruptly distancing herself. She hoped with a gesture to forestall his having any thoughts that she regretted the closeness they had shared that evening. Now was not a time for misunderstanding, and there was precious little time for privacy left.
"Syd?"
Instantly, his left hand covered hers and patted the hand on his arm comfortingly before falling back to the opposite armrest. "Don't worry," he replied quietly, leaning toward her only slightly. "You don't have to explain."
"Good." She smoothed her hand against the material of his suit sleeve, a gesture of fondness once saved solely for her father and now inexplicably appropriate for Sydney. She hoped he'd understand all that she meant by it. "Thanks," she said softly, then returned her hand to her lap.
"My pleasure," he replied in the same tone.
The meaning of her gesture hadn't been lost on him. While he knew without a single doubt that she was going to reassume her "Ice Queen" façade for the benefit of others very shortly, he also knew that she was telling him without words not to be fooled by it. This trip had not been without its accomplishments after all, he acknowledged with an inward smile. It was just that those accomplishments were very personal ones that not only had nothing to do with Jarod but did not ultimately serve the best interests of the Centre either.
Somehow, that fact didn't bother Sydney very much, and he really rather doubted it would bother Miss Parker at all.
As the pilot's voice came over the cabin loudspeaker announcing the impending arrival at the Centre airstrip, the two of them exchanged a quick glance that firmly cemented the new, strong and very private bond between them into a hidden corner of their relationship that only they could see or feel. Then, as if by mutual agreement, they simply looked away from each other and each watched in apparent fascination as both Broots and Sam roused abruptly at the crackle of the pilot's voice. Sydney could sense in the way Miss Parker's posture straightened and stiffened next to him that her public façade of tough independence and spit-fire arrogance was falling effortlessly into place while he, in his turn, just as easily donned his own comfortable and familiar public mask of scientific objectivity and detached, analytical curiosity.
For all intents and purposes, if anybody were to care to look, things would be precisely as they had been all along. She was the boss, the dominatrix, the Chairman's privileged daughter; and he was but a sometime sweeper team member and the psychological consultant to the hunt for the Centre's escaped Pretender. They were colleagues - nothing less, and nothing more. If they were to survive, this is how it would have to be.
After all, they were back in the Centre, where nothing and nobody was ever as they seemed - where lies and deceptions were the rule of the day.
They were home.
Fin.
