Okay, folks, here's my first little piece of Pretender fic.  Here comes the 
standared disclaimer. (been a while since I've done one of these)   The 
characters of Jarod, Miss Parker, Sydney, et. all, aren't mine, they belong to the 
producers of 'The Pretender'.  I'm just borrowing them, without permission.  
This piece is not intended to infringe on any trademark and is written just for 
fun.  I am not making any money off of this and *please* do not distribute 
without my permission.  Thank you and enjoy.

Acknowledgements:  Thanks to Perri, who put up with my somewhat 
constant nagging, 'Did you read it yet? Did you read it yet? Did you read it 
yet?', who cheerfully beta-read, offered comments, dialogue, descriptions, 
fiddled with my grammer, Lord knows, it needed it, and did whatever else 
she did. :)  Thanks!   Also thanks to the wonderful cast and crew, producers, 
directors, et. all, of The Pretender, without them, I wouldn't have written this 
and you wouldn't be reading it.

And now, on with the story.

************************************************************************

'Pride Goeth' 
By Amy M. Denton

 Miss Parker stared at the newspaper article in her lap as the limo moved up 
into the Smoky Mountains, reading it again and again.

'Mysterious Stranger Saves Historic Diner!!' the headline from Coldwater 
Springs Picayune trumpted.  'Real Estate Scam Exposed' was the smaller 
headline below it.

"Mysterious, my ass." Miss Parker muttered, looking at the picture 
accompaning the article. It was little more than a slightly blurred profile of a 
man stepping into a store, but it was enough.  She could spot that profile from 
a mile off and it was the reason she was on her way to Coldsprings, 
Tennessee, population 2,000.

The man in the picture was Jarod, her 'assignment' and he was not getting 
away this time.

She let the paper fall to the floor of the limo and lit a cigarette, looking out 
the window for a moment as she smoked.

"Why do they bother to waste paper on such a dinky little town?" she spoke 
around the cigarette.

Syndey, the other passenger in the limo, looked up from his book. "Be happy 
they do have a paper, we wouldn't be here otherwise."

"No," she corrected him, "if your pet project hadn't run off, *we* wouldn't be 
here."

Sydney should have flinched at the acid in her tone but he didn't. He was 
used to it by now.

"Have you ever thought of what you would do if you catch him?"  The 
question was innocent, even if the sentiment behind it was not.

"*When* I catch him, Syd, *when* I catch him."  Miss Parker crushed out the 
cigarette and started another one. "When I do catch him, I will finally have 
my life back."  She looked out the window into the dark night before speaking 
again.  "And tonight, I *will* catch him and end this ridiculous chase, once 
and for all."

"Pride goeth before a fall," Sydney said, looking back down at his book.

Miss Parker's response was a rather unladylike snort as limo pulled into 
downtown Coldwater Springs.

              *                     *                         *

She could see him, just ahead of her.  Just out of reach.  As usual.

Turning on the after-burners, she doubled her speed and ran after him, 
completely oblivious to the ice and snow covering the path in front of her.

It had been completely by accident that this 'chase' had even begun.

She'd just stepped out of the limo when she'd spotted him coming out of a 
dinner.  For a split-second, she'd had the drop on him, she'd had the 
advantage -- and she'd lost it the moment Sydney opened his mouth.

"Jarod!"

He had taken one look at them and bolted, which was why she was now 
chasing him down an ice-covered sidewalk.

 She'd sent the limo around the block in an attempt to cut him off and 
somewhere behind her, Sydney was puffing along. Served him right if he 
dropped dead of a heart attack.

She pulled her gun free as she reached the corner, not wanting to waste time 
if she got a clean shot at him

She never got the chance.

Just as she rounded the corner, her foot hit a patch of ice and she went down, 
hard, her gun flying out of her hand and sliding down the sidewalk.

"Damn, damn, damn." she said, trying to ignore the pain in her left ankle.  
"Jarod, you are *not* getting away this time."

"Oh, I don't think you're in a position to make that kind of statement any 
more, Miss Parker," a voice said.

She looked up and there he was, standing just out of reach, dangling her gun 
from one hand.

"You really should be more careful on the ice." Jarod told her.

              *                       *                       *

"Now, isn't this curious?"  Jarod said, looking down at her.

She stared back up at him with pure, undisguised hatred.  "You're enjoying 
this."  It wasn't a question.

He smiled.  "Yes, as a matter of fact I am.  Hasn't anyone ever told you not to 
run on ice? You can slip."

She groaned.  *I am never going to be able to explain this.* she thought.

"Am I boring you?" Jarod asked with mock-politeness, his head cocked to 
one.

She scowled and looked at him.  "What do you think?"

He smiled again.  That annoying, irritating, all-knowing smile. If she could 
just get up...but her throbing ankle had other ideas.

Taking a few steps backward, he looked down at her gun for a moment.  
"Very nice.  How did you manage to get one of these?  Was this the one you 
had when the sheriff caught you for concealing a weapon?" Her look must 
have spoken volumes, since his smirk widened. "Yes, I guess so."

 "What would you know about guns?"

 The smile vanished as he squatted down near her.  "I was a cop.  I know 
more about them then you'd care to learn."  He laughed without humor. "Do 
you know that I've been dreaming about something like this for a very long 
time?"

 "Oh, spare me."

"No, really.  What would I do if I ever got the drop on you?"  He laughed 
again, throughly enjoying his joke.

*Where was that damn limo?  Stupid driver probably got lost.*

"Of course,  I pretty well answered that one when you found me in Las 
Vegas." He looked at her.  "I hope they weren't too rough on you. But 
casino's have got to be very careful about con-men and the like."

*How the hell am I going to get out of this?*

He stood and started to pace, just out of reach, waving the gun for emphasis.  
"I've got another chance now.  What could I do?"  He looked down at her 
again, that saturine look.  "I could kidnap you.  But that would be a hassle, 
even worse than shooting you."  He made a face. "I don't know what to do 
with you. What do you think?"

She stared at him in disbelief.  "What?"

"I said, what do you think?  Think I should just leave you here, kidnap you? 
Oh, I've got it.  I could tie you up and make you watch 'Barney'.  You know, 
even for a children's show, it is *really* irritating. What do you think?" He 
smiled again.

It was all too much.  It was just simply too much.  First, the chase and now 
this *taunting*.  She lunged for him out of sheer frustration, but her ankle 
couldn't hold her and she went sprawling on the sidewalk again.

Jarod stepped back and watched.  "Careful, you'll only make it worse."

Was that concern she heard in his voice?

"Like you actually care," she snarled. He flinched and she smiled.  "What's 
the matter, Jarod, I hit a nerve?  Good."

She watched as the emotions played across his face. Then, as quickly as they'd 
come, they were gone and the mask of indifference was back. "I'm surprised 
you haven't asked me what I what from you yet?" he said, finally.

"You want me to say that?  You have got to be kidding."

"Oh, come on."  The tauting had begun again.

She rolled her eyes, "What do you want from me?"

He grinned.  "You couldn't give me what I want."

"You watch way too much tv."

He frowned.  "It's not like I had a whole lot of opportunity before."

*He sounds like a 9 year-old.  So help me God, he sounds like a 9 year-old*

Footsteps sounded in distance, abruptly ended the discussion. Squinting into 
the darkness, Miss Parker tried to make out who they belonged to.

*Maybe it's the limo.*

"I'd leave before they come." she threatened him. "You aren't going to get 
another chance."

He didn't look impressed.  "They?  Please, I bet it's Sydney."

She laughed.  "Your funeral."

"Would you come?"

Moments later, Syndney trotted up to them, breathing heavily.  He stopped 
and bent over at the waist, trying to catch his breath.

"It's about time you got here," she snapped at Sydney.

Sydney looked down at her, not realizing.  "Miss Parker, my days of chasing 
people are long since over."  It took a moment for it to process that Miss 
Parker was *sitting* on the sidewalk and that Jarod was holding a gun on her. 
He straightened slowly, opened his mouth but closed it without saying a 
word.

"Hi, Sydney."

"Hello, Jarod.  Fancy meeting you here.  Whose gun is that?"

"Miss Parker's.  She slipped on the ice.  It was quite a show." Jarod seemed 
very pleased with himself.

"You didn't have anything to do...?" Sydney asked.  Miss Parker could hear 
the supressed laughter in his voice and promised herself she'd make him pay 
for it later.

"Nope.  Wish I had though, it was cool."

"Cool?  Where did you ever pick that word up from?"

"Do we have to discuss his linguistic ablities now?" Miss Parker snapped. She 
was cold, her ankle hurt and her bad mood was rapidly descending into 
something much worse.

Biting his lip, Sydney said, "Sorry, force of habit.  What do you plan to do 
with that gun, Jarod?"

"I haven't decided yet."

"If I were you, I'd make up my mind soon.  The limo is on its way here."

"I haven't ridden in a limo yet," Jarod said, thinking aloud. "I suppose I could 
take the limo and leave you two here.... Nah.  Actually, I was just discussing 
this with Miss Parker."

"He was trying to decide whether or not to shoot me," she muttered.

Sydney looked disapproving.  "Jarod..."

"Oh, please, Sydney.  If I'd wanted to shoot her, she'd be dead already.  I'm not 
going to do anything like that.  I'd have to break in a whole new bloodhound 
if I did."

Looking down the street, Miss Parker could see the limo's headlights in the 
distance.  "Limo's coming." she said, interrupting.

"I know what I want."

"Pardon?" Sydney asked.

"She asked me what I wanted.  I know now."

"And that would be...?"

"Leave me alone.  I'm not going back to The Centre and you can't catch me.  
Why don't you just leave me alone?"  Jarod looked over his shoulder and 
saw the limo's headlights as well.

Sydney shook his head slowly. "You know we can't do that."

Jarod gave Miss Parker one last smirk. "It's been fun, but I gotta go.  Bye."  As 
he walked to the curb he took one more look back.  "Oh, one more thing, 
catch."  With one quick toss, he threw the gun in Sydney's direction, ran 
across the street and disappeared into the darkness.

Moments later, the limo pulled up to the curb.  The driver got out, looking 
apologetic. "Sorry, there was a detour.  I had go around three other blocks."

"Of course, you did." Contempt dripped from her words.  "Don't just stand 
there, help me up."

The driver took in the scene and instantly got the same expression of 
supressed hilarity that Sydney was wearing.  He knew better than to say 
anything and, if he liked breathing, he wouldn't.  One slip, she swore silently.  
One slip and he was dead.

Between the driver and Sydney, they were able to help Miss Parker into the 
back of the limo.

"Where is my gun?"  she snapped at Sydney.

"I have it." he answered calmly. "But it won't do you much good. Jarod took 
the clip."

Of course, he'd taken the clip.  She made one violent sound of frustration.  
When I get my hands on him...." she said, just as the limo door shut.

As the limo pulled away, she could swear she could hear faint laughter.

Jarod's laughter.

Damn him.

                         THE END