For those wondering what happens after Jarod escapes the Centre in 
"Blood", I wrote the following sequel.  Careful, it's rated PG-13 for 
content.  Thoughts, comments -- all welcome to the email address 
below.  I am  currently up to my elbows in the third story along this 
thread so let me know what you think. Disclaimer: All characters from 
The Pretender are the sole property of MTM, and are used without 
permission for entertainment purposes only.


"The Tie That Binds" 
Swikstr <swikstr@aol.com>

The Centre -- Blue Cove, DE

It was late afternoon and Miss Parker paced back and forth in the small 
space before Sydney's desk. She looked up as he entered the office, files 
from his rounds in tow.

"Can I help you Miss Parker?" He asked, surprised at her visit. For the 
last three months, he hadn't seen much of her. The Tower had put 
them under surveillance after Jarod's last escape and he suspected that 
was the reason she was keeping her distance. These days they 
communicated mostly in memos or via the computer, so something 
significant must have happened for her to show up in person.

"I came to find out if you've heard anything," she asked.

"In regards to what?" He replied, for her question could apply to any 
number of things: the ongoing hunt for Jarod, her father's continued 
absence, Centre internal investigations into their actions...

"If you've heard anything about Jarod," she answered, impatiently.

"No, and I'm not sure that I will unless they are successful in bring 
him back in here," said Sydney. "I trust you already know that he 
hasn't been contacting anyone here the way he used to, and the 
expediters haven't had any hits. He may have gone underground."

"Yeah, well having a psychotic loose-cannon on your tail will do that," 
she snapped.

He knew she was referring to Brigitte, the Centre sweeper now in 
charge of the operation to locate Jarod. "Have you heard from Mr. 
Parker lately?" He asked politely, changing the subject.

"No," she said, the tempo of her pace picking up.

Sydney observed her, waiting patiently. She was obviously *very* 
perturbed about something. He knew sooner or later she would get to 
the point. Pushing her for an explanation would only be counter-
productive. Finally, she ceased her prowling and flopped into a chair.

"Syd, do you remember when we were trapped in that building and I 
accidentally shot you?"

He raised his eyebrows. "It wasn't an experience that one would forget 
easily." 

"I already told you I was sorry," she said witheringly. "What I want to 
know is if you told me *everything* about the circumstances 
surrounding Mother's death."

Sydney was quiet for a moment, giving in to his usual desire to analyze 
the dynamics of the situation. He was mildly interested in the fact that 
she always asked about Jarod *first*. But he didn't seem to be her 
primary concern today. Now that the responsibility for Jarod's 
recapture was in other hands, he knew she had been zeroing in on a 
new objective. It hadn't taken genius to guess that the truth about her 
mother would be the direction, he was just surprised that it had taken 
this long.

"I told you everything *I* knew," he answered.  Then he added, "Does 
this have something to do with the project you have Broots sneaking 
around on?"

"He told you about that?" she sounded irritated.

"Of course," Sydney said, watching her carefully. Still wanting to test 
the waters about her concern for Jarod, he mentioned, "He also told me 
about the Internet message you had him send."

She looked away, momentarily thinking back to that particular 
incident:

Broots had just returned to the tech room to find her standing over his 
computer. Her cold gaze swept around to make sure no one else could 
hear them before she said, "I want you to do something."

"Sure Miss Parker, what is it?"

"I need you to send a net message to Jarod."

Broots almost choked on his coffee. "To Jarod??" he asked loudly.

"Lower your voice, you twit," she snapped, "I need you to send it to 
one of those temporary mailboxes he uses."

"OK," he said uncertainly, going to work at the keyboard. "What would 
you like it to say?"

"Just have it read, 'Jarod, the bunny is still hopping in Blue Cove,'" she 
said quietly.

He resisted the urge to ask what this was all about. By this time, he 
knew better. His fingers  moved rapidly over the keyboard. "You want 
it encrypted right? So no one can trace it here?"

"Broots, your powers of perception astound even me sometimes."

"Fine, well, there it goes," he responded somewhat peevishly.

"Thanks," was all he heard as she slipped from the room.

She focused her attention back on Sydney as he continued speaking.

"You unsettled him, as usual. He was deeply concerned that Brigitte 
would come sniffing around if she found out he contacted Jarod. As for 
your little assignment, he had to confide in somebody. You know how 
he hates the idea of spending even a moment in SL27."

Suddenly, a shrill beep sounded. Miss Parker looked down at the pager 
she had recently begun carrying. "Speaking of SL27, I've been expecting 
his call," she said, "Care to join me on a little adventure?"

"Is he down there now?" Sydney asked, suddenly understanding the 
real reason for her visit.

"Yeah, he's been working on that old brainchild again down there," 
she said, peering at the beeper. "I never thought we got all the 
information out of it the first time and I want to find out once and for 
all if it was really Raines that was behind Mother's death. Since my 
father isn't available, I've decided to solve this little mystery myself. I 
certainly have the time, now that the blonde piranha is in charge of 
tracking Jarod. Broots was only supposed to page me if he found 
something." She rose.

"After you," was all Sydney replied. 

----------------------------------------------------------

Carefully, they picked their way among the debris on the floor, 
flashlight beams cutting through the gloom. Broots was waiting 
outside the door of the wrecked sim lab, fidgeting nervously.

"Well?" Miss Parker asked abruptly.

"Uh, I didn't find what you were looking for on that," he indicated the 
brainchild, "and the worse news is that we aren't going to get 
*anything* more out of it. It's complete toast."

"Then why are you wasting my time?" she said sharply, trying not to 
sound disappointed. "Do you think I like strolling down here just for 
the soothing solitude??"

"Wait just a minute," Broots stammered. "There may have been 
nothing on the brainchild, but I did find a paper file down here full of 
memos between Raines and the Tower," his voice dropped to a 
whisper when he reached the last name. "I could have sworn it wasn't 
here the last time I was down."

Her smile curved up triumphantly at the mention of Raines' name. 
"Yeah things have a way of coming and going in this little neck of the 
woods, don't they." She frowned suddenly, looking at Sydney. "The 
Tower?" 

"Now that I think of it, he *did* have a lot more direct contact with 
them than I," Sydney recalled.

"Oh, uh, Miss Parker," Broots began as if he had just thought of it, 
"*Mr.* Parker's name is in the file too."

Sydney saw her flinch at the mention of her father. She met his eyes 
for a split second, then turned back to Broots, totally composed.

"Well, come on," she said impatiently, "what did the memos say?"

"Uh, it looks like the majority of them were written around the time 
your mother was working to rescue those seven children. The last one 
was dated the day before she died," Broots' anxiety was clearly 
increasing as the conversation progressed.

"But what did they *say* Broots??"

"Miss Parker," he said giving up, "I really think it would be better if 
you read them yourself."

She stared at him intently, then pushed past to the desk inside. A sense 
of unease filled the pit of her stomach. Finally, she took a deep breath, 
sat down at the file, and began to read.

"Listen Sydney," Broots whispered outside the room, "I really think 
you should go in there with her."

"Does that file say what I think it does?" Sydney said, concerned.

"Well, *you* might be interested in some of it too." Broots suggested 
carefully, watching as understanding dawned in the other man's eyes. 
Sydney abruptly followed Miss Parker. Sighing, Broots hugged his arms 
around himself, leaned his head back against the wall, and waited. He 
never noticed that they weren't alone.

Miss Parker failed to notice that Sydney had entered the sim lab to 
stand behind her. As she read, she became sicker and sicker at heart. 
And more angry. The file's documentation confirmed a lot of what 
they already guessed. Raines had discovered that Sydney's brother Jacob 
and her mother were rescuing children that had been appropriated for 
Centre research. He had immediately alerted the Tower and in turn, 
they had assigned a cleanup team. The first response had been to have 
Raines threaten Jacob in order to curtail the illicit activities. It was what 
followed that was the eye-opener, for when the threats did not have 
the desired response, the Tower had issued an extermination order for 
both Jacob and her mother.

Rage and frustration combined to form the tears that welled up in her 
eyes. She had accused her mother of being weak for so long, because 
she had felt abandoned by the so-called 'suicide'. Now it turned out 
that her mother had never actually *left* her. She had been taken, 
paying the ultimate price for her convictions with her life.

The final document turned out to be the most brutal. The memo was 
from her father to the Tower, in response to the kill order. She scanned 
the three words it contained: ACKNOWLEDGE, COMPLY, PROCEED -- 
and signed at the bottom was his familiar scrawl.

Feeling numb, she looked over her shoulder at Sydney. His face was a 
mirror of her own. "Well, I guess we know what happened now," she 
whispered.

"Yes," Sydney replied. "Actually, I've suspected this for some time, 
*and so have you*. Otherwise you would not have sent Broots back 
down here."

Miss Parker took several deep breaths, willing herself under control. 
"This has to be a mistake. My father would not have allowed 
this...Dammit, he told me to trust him," her voice sounded high-
pitched even to herself. She stopped for a moment and told herself that 
once she found her father there would be an explanation. But in her 
heart she knew that nothing else could adequately account for the 
evidence she had seen.

Broots cleared his throat awkwardly behind them. "We really have to 
get going," he said worriedly.

She continued to stare blankly ahead, one hand covering her mouth.

 "Miss Parker," Sydney laid a warm hand on her shoulder. "We need to 
get out before it's too late. There is nothing left here for us now."

His voice seemed to come from a distance. Silently she rose, shaking it 
off. She would overcome this... somebody, somewhere, was going to 
pay. Without a look or a word, she left the lab. Exchanging glances, the 
other two quickly followed.  

Angelo stepped out of the shadows once he sensed they were gone. His 
head was still ringing from the intense emotional broadcast he had 
been subjected to, especially from Miss Parker. Being an empath, he felt 
her pain as if it were his own. The emotions subsided in tandem with 
her departure from SL 27, and he remembered he had to do something 
now. Jarod had spoken to him before his last escape and Angelo was 
conscious of his responsibility. He slid off into the shadows of the air 
duct, seeking his stash of writing paper and stamps. "CJ..." he thought.

Back in the tech room, Sydney studied her carefully, "Are you all right 
Miss Parker?"

Her face betrayed no expression. "Yes, Syd," she responded, her voice 
absolutely controlled. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to 
SIS. I think I've wasted enough time for one day." She swept from the 
room, leaving Sydney and Broots to stare after her worriedly. 

----------------------------------------------------------

Midnight - One week later

Miss Parker stepped into the dark of her apartment and quietly closed 
the door. She had another crushing headache and her ulcer throbbed. 
The week had passed in a haze. She was unable to concentrate at work 
and her temper was more volatile than usual. She took little pleasure 
in the fact that her subordinates had been going to even greater lengths 
to avoid her. After leaving the Centre that evening she had gone to the 
pistol range in the hope of penetrating the fog in her brain. She had 
spent over two hours firing into the targets with an intensity that 
frayed her already spent nerves. It had not helped to cool her rage.

Rapidly, she undressed, heading for the shower. Once she was cleaned 
up and in bed she could lie awake and think about starting this whole 
miserable process again tomorrow. Standing under the spray of cold 
water, she tried to convince herself to break out of the spell she seemed 
to be under. She had always prided herself on being in control; it had 
been essential to her success. 

As she stepped out of the shower, she reminded herself that she would 
need all the *control* she could get if she was serious about this quest 
to avenge her mother. It was just that she seemed powerless to get 
beyond the tremendous loss she was feeling. 

After she toweled her hair dry, she looked in the mirror. 
Unfortunately, that old familiar command she normally had over 
herself seemed to be an illusion. Without the makeup and the power 
suit she looked vulnerable. Ruthlessly, she suppressed the feeling. 
What she needed now was enough focus to find her father. He was the 
only one with the answers she needed. Plus, with Brigitte running 
around the country, busy getting nowhere in the search for Jarod, she 
might actually have some breathing space at the Centre. She vowed to 
start her new 'assignment' in the morning, beginning with her home 
turf -- SIS. 

She pulled on an oversized button-down shirt and walked to the 
window to peer through a split in the blinds. "Uh-huh," she thought as 
she rolled up the sleeves, the big black sweeper car was down there. 
After three months, they were still watching her.

A light tapping on the door startled her. She quickly padded over to the 
chair where her Beretta hung in its holster. She slipped over to the 
doorway, her bare feet making no sound. The knocking came again. 
Raising the gun to eye level, she used her other hand to open the door.

"Jarod!" she gasped in shock. Lowering the gun, she grabbed his arm 
and pulled him into the room.

He felt a jolt from the contact as her hand gripped his. "Do you always 
greet guests that way?" he asked, looking down at her mockingly.

She moved away from him, trying to stifle the flutter that awakened in 
the pit of her stomach, and thinking about self-preservation. She 
immediately extinguished all but one of the lamps. No need to hang 
out a sign to the sweep team outside that she had company. 

"One a.m. is hardly the hour to be paying a social call," she shot back, 
temper flaring. "Besides, I think I must be hallucinating. What, did 
they give you the night off at Saviors R Us?"

"Not really, no," he replied, as his eyes traveled up her bare legs to the 
rest of her body and finally her face. "I'm sort of between careers right 
now."

A warm flush began to spread through her cheeks as she realized her 
state of undress. She was outraged that he would show up here. It was 
too personal. She struggled to keep her composure as she faced him in 
the darkened room, but the absurdity of the situation rankled her 
already taut nerves. She reminded herself that all she wanted was to be 
alone; she didn't have the strength or patience to deal with a close 
encounter with Jarod. 

"I ought to take you in right now."

"Why? So you can leave the door unlocked again? They might shoot 
you next time," he said with his usual logic. Jarod the unflappable.

"Jarod, *what* are you doing here?" she ground out. "You're going to 
get us both killed, or did you not notice that little babysitters' club down 
there?"

He quirked up an eyebrow, a puzzled look forming on his face.

"Never mind," she said. "It's just a figure of speech. One that I don't 
really feel like explaining right now. Would you just answer my 
question please?" she demanded. 

He was standing in front of the solitary lamp and she couldn't help 
noticing the outline of his body. His face was shadowed but she could 
see the shimmer of his dark eyes.

"I came to see how you were," he said softly, moving away from the 
light. "I wasn't sure how things would end up after our last meeting."

She didn't believe his lame answer for a second. "Jarod, I've no desire 
to *play* right now." she said sharply. "But since you asked, I'm just 
bloody perfect as you can probably see." 

She laughed bitterly. "My father is missing, the Tower has me under 
surveillance, Brigitte is on the loose, and..." she trailed off, realizing 
she was beginning to rattle on.

"And...?" he questioned. 

"And it's nothing I can't handle," she said, quickly regaining control.

"Still looking for clues in SL 27?" he asked quietly.

"As a matter of fact, I've had quite a lot of enlightenment down there," 
sarcasm dripped from her voice. "You knew didn't you?"

"Knew what?"

"That Raines blew the whistle on my mother, that the Tower issued a 
kill order, and that my father did nothing to stop it," she couldn't keep 
her voice from rising.

He said nothing. Of course he had known. Who else could have gotten 
Angelo to leave that kind of evidence behind? 

Jarod suddenly realized he had taken a risk in coming here, although 
he really *had* been wondering what was happening to her. 
Sometimes his thoughts had gotten the best of him and he imagined 
that the Tower had taken some decisive action, putting her life in 
danger. His relief at the one message she had sent him had been 
immeasurable. But now she seemed so different than the last time, 
when she'd planned his escape.  When, in spite of herself, she'd kissed 
him. He could tell she was on the edge now and using everything in 
her emotional bag of tricks to hide it.

Miss Parker turned around abruptly, setting the gun on a table and 
clutching her forehead. The action drew his thoughts back to the 
present. She looked different somehow, dressed as she was, with her 
red hair tumbling over her shoulders and her green eyes glittering 
with anger. But the softer appearance didn't fool him into thinking 
that her core wasn't still pure steel. Eyes darkening, he gave in and let 
himself acknowledge the desire to touch that inner part of her. After 
all, it was why he had come here...

"Answer me," she said sharply, with her back turned. "For real now 
Jarod, why are you here?"

She felt him come up behind her and slowly slide his hands up her 
arms. His warm breath caressed her nape. Carefully, he began to knead 
the knots of tension out of her neck and shoulders. She shuddered and 
let out a long sigh, closing her eyes, remembering the last time he had 
been this close. How easy it would be to succumb to the desire to have 
someone, anyone comfort her. She was so very tired of being *Miss 
Parker*. Her father was gone so it didn't even matter anymore; the 
enduring desire for his approval felt like so much wasted energy. And 
right now, the feel of Jarod's hands through the thin fabric of her shirt 
was igniting a different kind of longing.

Still, even as she felt a delicious languor spread throughout her body, 
she was determined not to let this go to the next level. She had been to 
bed with plenty of other men before, but knew instinctively that an 
encounter with Jarod might leave some permanent scars. 

Back at the Centre, helping him to escape, she could easily hide her 
feelings behind a veil of other motivations. Alone with him in her 
personal space, it would be quite a different matter, and she was 
determined to keep the details of her soul to herself. She would have 
to put an end to this soon, before it was too late. 

"Just for a minute," she thought as his fingers slid up into her hair, 
massaging her temples. "Jarod," she inadvertently breathed his name.

He turned her around slowly and their eyes met as he held her face in 
his hands. She could feel the sensual energy tighten between them, 
pulling them closer together. God, he looked good to her. She watched 
him dreamily as he lowered his mouth to hers for a kiss. The shock 
that drove through her body was intense and for the moment, she 
forgot her resolution. 

She slipped her hands into his jacket as the kiss deepened, sliding them 
up the broad plane of his back. As he moved from her lips to her neck, 
his hands began to loosen the buttons up the front of her shirt. She 
arched her back as his mouth traveled downward and a tiny groan of 
ecstasy escaped her throat. 

Returning his mouth to hers, Jarod gripped her bare waist and molded 
her against his lower body. She could feel how much he wanted her.

Suddenly, instinctively, she knew that he had come here tonight to 
make love to her, and the awareness sent a stroke of pleasure through 
her. She bit his lower lip gently and slowly drew his tongue into her 
mouth. Pressing even harder against him, she heard him moan softly. 

The unexpected sound shocked her back to sanity, and she forced 
herself to remember her earlier promise. Already, they had traveled 
too far. His jacket was off and her shirt would be following it shortly.

Inhaling sharply, she pulled away from him. "Jarod, we can't do this," 
she said, determination forming in her voice. She pulled her shirt 
closed and crossed her arms over her chest as she stepped back, willing 
her heart to slow down.

It took a minute for her voice to register. "Why can't we?" He finally 
asked, sounding confused.

She blew her breath out in exasperation. "If you had any experience, I 
wouldn't have to explain."

"This isn't my first time you know," he said defensively.

"OK, so it's your second," she retorted, "Only it won't be because I'm 
not going to let this happen."

"If experience is what you're worried about, you'd be surprised what's 
on the Internet these days," he replied, watching her.

She swallowed the urge to slap some sense into him. Not for the first 
time, she marveled at the contradiction that was Jarod. He could 
perform delicate medical procedures with no training whatsoever, but 
was naive enough to think you could learn about the consequences of 
sex from a computer.

Jarod continued watch her struggle for composure. She didn't know it, 
but he knew exactly what she was thinking. He was a pretender after 
all, and had a very specific purpose in mind by being there. He sensed 
that she had guessed the means but not the end. 

What he needed was to bind her to him beyond their already unspoken 
understanding. As futile as that sounded, he knew anything was 
possible. Angelo's letter had tipped him off that the time was optimal. 
With what she had learned, despite her fierce determination, she 
would be vulnerable. 

Before showing up at her door, he had run some possible scenarios for 
himself and weighed them all against his objective. If his plan worked, 
he might then be able to persuade her to help him from inside the 
Centre to find his family. With Kyle and Harriet dead, he didn't have 
any other options. Besides, he still clung to the shadowy hope that he 
might one day convince her to come out and join him. 

To succeed, he knew he would first have to force her into revealing her 
feelings. She would not succumb otherwise, considering such a 
concession a sign of weakness. It was a daunting task, as well as a 
calculated gamble. That she would be furious at his manipulation went 
without saying, and her reaction might lead to an outcome exactly 
opposite of where he wanted to be. However, if it worked, he knew the 
payoff would be rewarding in more ways than one. 

What he didn't account for in all of his logical calculations was what 
the result of this encounter might mean for *him*.

"Jarod," she said slowly, startling him, "There's a lot more to it that 
what you've read on the Internet."

"Explain it to me," he said, ever so softly, so that she had to move 
closer to hear him.

"Well, sometimes sex is more than just sex. It can cause more problems 
than it's worth."

"I don't understand," he replied, carefully maintaining the innocent 
act.

She was getting more and more exasperated by the minute. Not only 
was she dealing with her body's frustration, but now 'boy genius' was 
having an attack of the stupids. She watched as he quirked an eyebrow 
up again, and her temper finally boiled over.

"Jarod," she bit out, "Don't be so naive. Sex changes things. You had to 
have realized that with Nia. No matter what's happened between us in 
the past, I guarantee that it would make our future more difficult." 

"Why?" 

He was completely maddening. She began to speak faster, without 
thinking, her voice taking on an impatient tone. "Sometimes it's more 
than just physical, what if turns out to be an expression of love? The 
day *could* come again when I might be forced to hold a gun to your 
head..." Her voice trailed off as she noticed the triumph dawning in his 
eyes. Suddenly, she realized what she was saying.

"Oh shit," she cursed. He was smiling like a little boy, clearly proud of 
himself. Anger and frustration welled up inside her. "You did that on 
purpose!" she accused.

Jarod saw that she was retreating into her usual angry remoteness, and 
he understood that now would be the difficult part. It was like trying to 
walk a tightrope; one misstep and all of his efforts would be for 
nothing. He surprised her by stepping forward quickly to grab her arms.

At first she froze, then without thinking, she reacted by pummeling his 
chest with her fists. If she had been holding her gun she would have 
contemplated firing it at him, she was so incensed. "Goddamn it Jarod. 
This is *my* life, not one of your sims," she shouted.

Frantically, he sorted through all of the alternate possibilities he had 
formulated to get out of this mess, for she was like a wildcat, hissing 
and spitting in rage. Finally, he decided on the simplest solution. He 
pulled her into his arms, letting his hand snake up to grasp the back of 
her head. Their teeth collided as he forced her mouth up to his.

For a split second she hesitated. Then she lost it, kissing him back 
wildly, grasping his shoulders with enough force to leave bruises.

"Relax," she finally heard his voice whisper into her ear, hypnotic, 
almost as if he were inside her head. "Please." 

She fought for breath, brain reeling. For the first time in many years, 
Miss Parker felt the last vestiges of her control slip away. She didn't 
care. The sensation was too liberating, almost euphoric. Then, she 
stopped thinking and concentrated on the feel, the scent, the 
*presence* that was Jarod. The burning touch of his hands seemed to 
be everywhere on her body.

He lifted her gently and carried her into the other room, laying her 
down on the bed, moving up next to her. He felt her hands pulling off 
his shirt as he kicked off his shoes. They continued to kiss with 
abandon as he lowered himself on top of her, glorying in the sensation 
of her bare skin against his. He could feel his own control rapidly 
slipping away. 

Suddenly, he pulled back for a moment. 

"Look at me Marine."

Her eyes opened languidly. She was so drunk with desire that she 
didn't even care that he had just spoken her first name. Slowly her 
mouth curved up into the seductive smile he had known since they 
were children. "Make love to me Jarod," she commanded breathlessly.

His eyes darkened and he lowered his mouth again to hers, making it 
clear that he needed no further encouragement.

The end. (Until the next time ;-P)