This is a fanfic addressing two thoughts at the moment. A) How did Jarod escape, and who helped him? and B) If Miss Parker is a pretender herself. It's short but I had to write it :) Comments appreciated. The Pretender and all characters thereof are property of MTM Entertainment and used without permission. The story is copyright by Nirvana Kleise, 1997. Understanding by Nirvana Kliese The Center Blue Cove, Delaware One week before Jarod's escape Miss Parker blew out a mouthful of smoke as she closed the doors of the elevator. She placed the box of files on the floor beside her and pressed the button for the simulation floor. She had to take these files to Jarod -- more simulations he had to work on. She would normally never dream of going to this floor -- too many strange people -- but today she had to. Jarod never had to worry about where he wanted to go, what he was going to do with his life, love or money, and in her own way, she envied him for it. "That lucky bastard," she hissed to herself. She wasn't sure what she thought of Jarod; there was somthing about him.... She couldn't decide if she loved him or hated him. Her mind came alive with memories of their past. She diddn't know what had changed, or at least that's what she told herself. It was his fault. She tightened her mouth, pushing the memories aside The elevator doors released their seal with a hiss, and exposed a long white corridor. All the doors were closed and in order. She walked slowly, her feet not making a sound in the sterile inviroment, and she shivered as she reached her destination. Simulation room 69. She slipped the key in the lock and pushed the door open. The room was divided into two parts. On one side there was a large screen, obviously used to aid in simulations. The screen glowed blue and the lighting in the room was dim. The other side of the room was separated by a glass wall; behind it, seemed to be boxes and recording equipement. She looked around for Jarod, but couldn't see him. She bent down, about to place the box on the floor and leave, when a voice came from the other side of the room. "Miss Parker, how nice of you to come and visit me," Jarod said sarcastically, switching on the light. She blew out another mouthful of smoke, causing Jarod to splutter. "I can't imagine why you don't come down here more often, it's so nice and homey." he continued, enjoying pressing her buttons. "You should be greatful," she said menacingly. "Should I?" Jarod asked, raising his eyebrows. "You get everything you need here, you don't need the complications of life." "Well, I'd really like to decide that for myself." She ignored his comment and continued. "All you have to do is pretend. You live your life through other people's; everything's a game for you." Jarod wandered back towards the glass and stepped behind it, locking the door behind him. "Is that so?" he asked, struggling to hide his anger. "Let's do a simulation, shall we?" He lifted up the folder in front of him and smiled victoriously out at Miss Parker. She glared at him. "Jarod, you're nuts." "Well, I suppose I am, but right now, you're Martha Glade." He hit the button on the table in front of him, and the screen came alive with images. Broken black and white images of a train station, flashed between articles, and images of snow-covered gravel, walls, concrete, and leather. "Jarod, what are you doing?" Miss Parker began to look nervous. "Right now, you're walking into the train station," Jarod began. "It's the 15th of November 1995, you're about to catch the train for a ride home. You just came from work at a sewing factory, the cold wind's blowing hard, and the snow's crunching beneath your shoes." Miss Parkers eyes began to glaze over. She could feel herself begin to become Martha Glade, she could feel herself falling into the train station. She could hear Jarod's voice in the background pulling her into the character even more. She lost power to be herself. The cold wind stung her face and her stomach churned. She walked slowly towards the platform. Her mind was alive with worry. That morning she had found out her husband, a known gang member, was having an affair. She hadn't said anything though, too afraid at what would happen if she did. She could tell that he knew she had found out; that look of anger in his eyes that always seemed to be there was even greater that morning. She shivered as she walked further onto the platform, trying desperately to avoid the shadows that seemed to be everywhere she looked, as if they all had minds of their own. She could swear she could see someone hiding in all of them, she could have sworn she had seen the glimmer of steel. She shook her head, trying to hid her worry, and turned her back for a moment, looking further down the train tracks, hopeing against hope that the train was there. She strained to see headlights but there were none. The bulb in the small lamp flickered as she heard a sound behind her. "Is anyone there?" she called, her voice coming out barely above a whisper as her dry lips stung at the icy wind. The sounds of movement stopped and her stomach churned. There was someone there all right, and they didn't want her to know it. She turned away from the platform, running as fast as she could to wherever she could. She had nowhere to go but the fear of the unknown was too great to stay. She ran to the phone booth, struggling for breath as fear took hold of her body. Her hand shook as she fumbled to dial her home number. She spun around, hearing footsteps again.; though she could only see shadows, she knew someone was there, someone was watching. The phone beeped loudly with an engaged signal. Her mind began to search desperately for who to call -- she struggled to think of someone safe. All of a sudden, she felt a hand cover her mouth tightly and she could smell the freshness of the leather gloves her pursuer was wearing. She struggled for a moment before she became aware of the cold metal rim of a revolver pressed hard against her lower back. She closed her eyes, desperately searching for something to do before her attacker had her fully in the shadows. She looked up at the flickering lamp, willing it to come on brightly, but knwing no one would find her anyway. She was pulled further backwards, the snow- covered gravel crunching hard beneath her feet. She wanted to know who was doing this. She was sure it was her husband, or at least one of his "friends." Every cell in her body told her to try to scream, but her mind told her not to, it would only shorten her life even more. She could feel the eerieness of the shadows engulfing her, pulling her into their depths. She couldn't move, or was afraid to. All of a sudden she felt a fiery pain in her back. The darkness of the shadows began to blacken her view, and she felt herself slipping away to somewhere she didn't want to go. She silently cursed her husband for this; but as her head jerked back, she saw the killer's face. She fully expected to see her husband, but insted she saw a young blond woman, her eyes full of hate. Just then she felt the last bit of lifeforce leave her and she fell into the unknown. Miss Parker fell to the tiled floor, sobs wracking her body. Jarod pressed the button to pause the monitor, struggling to bring himself back from the simulation. Miss Parker raised her head, tears streaked her cheeks. "Why?" she whispered frowning at him, her voice laden with confusion. Jarod pointed to the monitor, which displayed a prison notice for a Fred Glade, for murder. "Her husband got the blame," he sighed. "That's the sort of games I play all day, every day." She turned back to him, struggling to get to her shaking legs. "I have enough pain without anyone else's!" she hissed, her eyes full of hatred, and yet a hint of compassion he hadn't seen for a long time. "So do I," he replied his eyes pleading. She didn't say anything for a moment. Then she placed her hand on the glass between them, and he placed his on the other side -- their signal as children telling each other, 'It's okay.' She nodded to him, understanding him at last. * * * * Three days later Miss Parker's house 2:30 am She sat upright in her bed, having nightmares for the third night in a row. She could still see Martha Glade on that horrible night. She pushed her fingers through her damp hair and placed a cigerette in her mouth, then switched on the light beside her bed and tightened her robe around her waist. "Damn you, Jarod," she whispered, not really meaning it. She sorted through the papers on her desk. She had to get him out, she owed him that. She took out a spare sheet of paper and began to scribble down plans. She had the power to get Jarod out, she had access to the mainframe. Now all she had to know was how. * * * * Four Days Later Jarod's Room, The Center 12:00pm The door opened slowly, and Miss Parker slipped inside. She walked straight to Jarod's bed where he lay, deep in troubled sleep. She shook him gently and his eyes fluttered open. He sat up and looked at her, confused, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "What?" He whispered, confused at why she was there. "Get out now," she whispered back. He frowned. "Huh?" "You want freedom, you got it," she said dryly, trying, and succeeding to hide how she felt about him. "How?" he asked, now fully awake. "I disabled the security systems. The cameras will just cut out forthe next fourty five minutes and no one will know." "You? Really?" he asked raising his eyebrows. She nodded, fighting a smile at his happiness. She sobered. "What happens to you when you're gone is your choice. The Center will look for you. That's the risk." He smiled. "I know." "Just don't say I didn't warn you. Now go!" He hugged her quickly before pulling on his shoes and sprinting towards the door. "Thank you," he called back softly, walking out into the sterile hallway and heading for a new life. * * * * The next morning Miss Parker's room. The phone beside her bed sounded loudly. She woke from her sleep nervously, praying no one knew what she had done. "What?" she answered briskly, as always hiding her fellings well. The voice on the other end was stern. "Honey, it's me. I need to see you," "Daddy, what is it?" she asked, half-afraid of the answer. "One of our lab rats has escaped. I need your help in finding him. Meetme in the Tower ASAP," he finished and the end of the line went dead. She frowned. She had expected trouble, she had expected chaos, but she had never expected to be asked to find the very person she let free.She climbed out of bed and showered, her mind alive with confusion. "I warned him. Now I have to do my job," she said softly, lighting a cigarette. She walked out the door and into the street, and looked up at the early morning sun. "Let the games begin." The end. Or the beginning?