Disclaimer/Author's Note:
Well, I suppose everyone here knows who owns Jarod and Company.  It's not 
me... Many thanks and no intentions of infringement to Sickle or Long.  Or 
NBC or anyone else who has a stake in the franchise.  

This is a short but sweet one... taking place after the episode Ranger Jarod.  
You knew this one was coming, didn't you... I mean the situation begged... 
Anyway, for those of you familiar with Chris Rupenthal's work- WOW... he 
always lets us get our man.  For those of you not familiar- he worked on 
Quantum Leap.  You'll notice an especially high ratio of his episodes have 
our hero's shirtless or caught in clinches to name a few cliches.  Thanks to the 
actors, Michael T. Weiss, Andrea Parker, Sydney Bauchau, and John Gries.  
They do a great job bringing life to wonderful characters.   And now....

PS: I have no idea what if any dates are in the episode, but I'm making a 
choice to suit the story- artistic license.  Oh- a rating- PG 13 for suggestive 
stuff.....

Stepping Stone
by Mary Abel
2/21/97

Mariat Hotel
Portland OR  
Febuary 14, 1997

        He kept looking for her in other women's faces.  He kept trying to hear 
her voice in their cadences.  Jarod sighed.  He was staring uselessly out the 
window, watching as rain splattered against the glass and trailed.  He'd been 
in Portland for three days and it hadn't stopped raining once.  He reached 
down and picked up the small photograph laying on the bedside table.  Her 
face smiled up at him, caught candidly.  Her hair had been shorter then- but 
she looked as she looked when he had left her only four days ago.

He flipped it over and read once more the words written on the back.  "So you 
remember I know who you are."   

He closed his eyes against sudden tears.  Someone did, someone did know 
who he was.  She did.  Nita. 

He missed her.  He hadn't known... he didn't know.

Jarod shook his head silently and got up, walking across the room.  Restless.  
Nothing was right, nothing satisfied.  He needed to see her again.  

To touch her.  To do all the things they'd done together in the cold darkness.  
They'd made their own heat that night.  Jarod closed his eyes, remembering 
the sweetness, the satisfaction.  

Not like the books he read, far back in his black and white past.  The 
Reproductive Biology of Human Beings.  The scientific explanations carried 
no weight against the flood of feelings that had consumed them both.  He 
smiled.  Even with his inexperience he had satisfied.  

He remembered being eleven,  watching Miss Parker walk across the room, 
already walking with a sensual gait.  The heat of their hands touching.  The 
surprise of that first gentle kiss.  Had she planned to do it or was it an 
impulse?

 She'd left soon after that, silently.  But he had stayed, remembering.  
Wondering.  

She'd been scared and brave all at the same time.  The look was there in her 
fierce eyes.  

How could two people so diametrically opposite remind him of each other?  

He barely glanced into the mirror as he went into the bathroom and stripped 
for a shower.  Perhaps it was because they'd both lost their mothers at young 
ages.  Or maybe it was just the determination that radiated off of both.  

He stepped into the spray, sighing as the warm water soothed him.  Both had 
suffered, both were determined not to let the world destroy them.  He 
wondered if either knew of the similarities.  He wondered if Miss Parker had 
suspected something when she had questioned her.  Her voice usually 
fraught with impatience and irritation had dropped low.  Almost gentle.
"Do you think he'll come back?"

And  Nita's answer, nearly as low, as intimate.  "I hope so."

His knees had gone weak at that.  She didn't hate him for leaving.  She 
understood.  

Did she know he was out here, watching to make sure she wasn't hurt?  He 
knew how Miss Parker could act sometimes- full blind authority, raging 
through whatever obstacles were in the way.  He didn't want her to scare 
Nita.  And she hadn't.  

But if they had hurt her, in anyway, he would have revealed himself.  He 
wouldn't allow her to be hurt because of him.  Their relationship.

She'd been hurt too much already.

He rinsed the soap out of his hair and turned the water off, grabbing a towel 
and wrapping it around his body.
  
The sudden silence was too much to listen to.  And his thoughts were not the 
kindest of companions.  He turned on the bedside radio.

The melody caught his mind for a few moments as he pulled on clothes.  But 
it wasn't enough distraction.  He walked again to window and picked up the 
photograph. 

Carefully, he tucked it into his DSA case, where he had found it.  She had 
known he would have to leave.  She'd put it in there for him to find.

He closed the case and locked it, then grabbed the bag of clothes he'd bought at 
the mall a couple of blocks from here.  It was time to leave.  He knew that.  

So he closed the door behind him and took the elevator downstairs, stepping 
silently aside as the elevator filled with people.  He memorized their faces, all 
in a heartbeat, grasping for the thing that was theirs- the pain, or joy or 
happiness.  In a multitude of minutes he could have become them all, the 
well fed businessman, his wife, their children.  The lone  man, looking 
uncomfortable and out of place in the plush elevator.  Jarod looked again at 
this one, trying to see into his eyes.  The man looked up, once, briefly.  It was 
enough.  He didn't have to become this stranger.  He was the stranger, staring 
at his reflection in the highly polished doors of the elevator.

A stranger.  To everyone he met.

When the doors slid open he stepped out and instead of heading for the front 
desk, he walked into the bar.  Even now, at this early afternoon hour, the 
lights were dimmed.  A sad piano played softly over the speakers.

He walked to the bar and sat down, accosted yet again with his lonely 
reflection.  He winced slightly and adjusted in his seat until his reflection was 
hidden in the racks of bottles behind the bar.  

The bartender walked over.  "What can I get for you?"

Jarod considered for a moment.  "I'll have a scotch, double, on the rocks." he 
said, remembering Sydney's order.  If ever there was time for a drink, it was 
now.

A few seconds later, the drink was placed before him, along with a bowl of 
peanuts.

He dug some cash out his pocket and handed it to the bartender.  "Keep the 
change." he said.

The bartender's eyes widened.  "Thanks."

"Spend it on someone you love." Jarod advised lifting his glass.  He 
swallowed and almost choked, unprepared for the smoky fire that accosted 
his mouth and tongue.  He managed to swallow without killing himself but 
it was a close thing.  He set the drink down, waiting for the burning to go 
away.

"Well, well, adult beverages."  Miss Parker said.  She slid into the barstool 
next to him.

He had known they were here.  Perhaps he'd gotten too addicted to playing 
games with them.  Or maybe... he was tired of being a stranger.  

He nodded, staring down at the gold colored liquid in his glass.  "Hello, Miss 
Parker."

"Hello, Jarod."  she answered.  With a raised hand she signaled the bartender.  
"I'll have what he's having.  Put it on Room 331."

Jarod took another sip.  "So, how did you like Toluca?" he asked.  

"Wretched." she answered, taking a large sip of her drink.  "But then, I have 
never seen the attraction of any place you go."

"Just going where the wind blows me."  Jarod answered.  "Are you going to 
take me in now or can I finish my drink?"

She shrugged.  "Sydney and Broots aren't here.  Syd apparently has some 
friend in town."

Jarod nodded.  He knew.  Miss Parker sighed.  Of course he knew.

"They're visiting him.  We have the day off."

"Oh."

"So, adult beverages, girlfriends... no time for merry little pranks anymore?  
No giant games of monopoly, no roach motel rooms..." Miss Parker began 
conversationally.

Jarod almost smiled.  "I would call those sociology experiments.  Though I 
was sorry to hear that you were sick.  How's the ulcer?"

Miss Parker scowled and sipped her drink again.  Jarod did the same.  This 
time the burn was much much less and the warmth that spread through his 
stomach was very comforting.

"It's fine, no thanks to you."  

"So..." Jarod started again.

"Would you shut up for a second?"  Miss Parker snapped.  "I should take you 
in right now."

"Should?" Jarod questioned.  From what he'd seen in the past, Miss Parker 
would have no trouble shooting him and dragging back to Blue Cove by his 
hair.  He sipped his drink again.  What would happen if he was brought back?  
Would he be able to live in captivity again?  Or would he die?

"Do you remember..." Miss Parker began.  She sipped her drink and started 
again.  "I was eleven... they brought me to your room..."

"I remember." Jarod answered, amazed that she did as well.

"And later..."

"You came back, by yourself.  I've never known why."

If it was possible, a fond smile curled Miss Parker's mouth.  "I came back... 
well it doesn't matter why exactly.  You were my first kiss."  

"Mine too."

"I knew that." Miss Parker answered, almost sharply.  

"I've never forgotten it." Jarod told her simply.  "It was the first time I 
remembered being kissed at all."

Silence between them.  The sad piano music had changed to a quiet cello.

The hunted and the hunter sipped their drinks.

Miss Parker set her glass down, the ice cubes clinking against one another.  

She let out a heavy breath.  "Don't worry about Nita.  I'll make sure that she 
isn't bothered... even if a few mysterious phone calls happen to come to her 
place."  She stood.

"What are you doing?" Jarod asked, amazed that she was leaving.  

"I'm going to get my hair done.  It's my day off and I just spent two days in 
the worst fleatrap this side of Reno." Miss Parker answered as if amazed there 
could be any question.

"Why?" Jarod asked, desperate suddenly to know.

"I told you it's my day off.  The Centre doesn't own my soul.  Anymore than 
they owned yours."

There was another pause.  Jarod waited.  She would continue if he gave her 
enough time.

But, "Happy Valentine's Day, Jarod.", was all she said.  Then she turned and 
walked out of the bar.

Jarod watched her go.   A slow smile crept up on his face as she left the room 
and he looked back at the bar.

"Another?" the bartender asked.

"No thanks."  Jarod answered, getting up.  He walked towards the bank of pay 
phones.


The End.

Comments?  Loved it, hated it, couldn't care less?  Let me know:  
Email: mcabel@uofport.edu.