Title:       The Game 
Author:      DCE aka ViciousGurl
Email:       geek-tastic AT gmx DOT com
Web Page:    http://www.dlc.fi/~dce/fic/index.html
Archive:     Nowhere without my written permission.
Disclaimers: All Pretender characters and concept belong to MTM and 
             NBC Productions. No infringement is intended. This story,  
             however, is written and copyrighted by me.
Feedback:    Pretty please?

This is a sequel to 'Pretend'. I would suggest you read it first,
otherwise this may be a tad confusing.


THE GAME
by DCE aka ViciousGurl
<geek-tastic AT gmx DOT com> 
(c)2000


It took him two days to approach her again.

The moment he saw her he knew that she knew that he knew. Grinning
inwardly, he felt the old, familiar excitement at the sight of her. It
never failed to arise, although the reasons behind the flutter deep in
his belly had varied dramatically over the years. Today it was an odd
mixture of the excitement he'd felt as a child combined with something
he'd felt two days ago when he'd had his first glimpse of her.

He watched her step out of a tall office building, a cell-phone
pressed to her ear. She was smiling as she talked with whom ever was
on the other end of the line. Not a business call, then, Jarod mused
silently, remembering the impatient barks he'd usually received upon
calling her. Of course, he'd made a point of calling her in the middle
of the night, but still, the difference was quite remarkable.

As soon as she finished the call he walked over to her.

And so the game began.

"Excuse me, I don't know if you remember me but we met a couple of
days ago at..."

At the sound of his voice she raised her head, brows furrowed in faked
irritation and stared at him blankly before recognition seemed to
dawn. "You're that guy from the park."

Smiling, Jarod nodded as if relieved that she'd remembered him.
"That's right."

His smile wasn't returned. Instead, her blue eyes grew a little colder
as she suddenly looked at him accusingly. "Have you been following
me?"

Of course he had, and she knew it.

"No! No, of course not. But I am glad I happened to bump into you
again. I've been wanting to apologize for scaring you the other day."

Her eyes flashed a little at his insinuation but she kept her tone in
check. "You didn't."

"Well, regardless, I am sorry. Maybe I could make it up to you," Jarod
suggested, motioning towards a hot-dog stand down the street. "Would
you care for a hot dog?"

That earned him an arched eyebrow and something akin to a familiar
Parker-stare.

"A hot dog?"

Making sure his smile didn't turn into a teasing grin, Jarod nodded in
response.

"While a hot dog's definitely more original than claiming I remind you
of someone you know - no thanks."

She turned to leave but he stopped her. "How about coffee, then?
Please, I promise I'm quite harmless. I just want to apologize for the
last time."

Pausing, she regarded him for awhile and cocked her head as if trying
to decide whether or not to accept his offer. "All right, coffee
sounds good."

"Great. I'm Jarod, by the way. Jarod Smith."

"Mr. Smith?" she repeated, obviously amused.

Smiling pleasantly, Jarod extended his hand to her. "Please, call me
Jarod. I feel like we've known each other for ever."

She kept her face impassive but didn't bother trying to hide the
sudden spark of mirth flashing through her blue eyes. "Hunter
Jamison."

"Hunter. It suits you."

"Doesn't it?"

*

While she was sipping from her steaming cup of coffee Jarod nursed his
Dr. Pepper and patiently waited for her to make her move. He didn't
have to wait for long.

Leaning back against her seat she fixed her eyes at him. "So, Jarod.
What do you do when you're not picking up women at the park?"

"Have coffee with them?" His dark eyes glimmered with laughter but his
tone was pure innocence.

"Cute." She kept it as short and sweet as ever.

Not the least ruffled, Jarod gave her a winning smile. "Actually,
I'm..., what's the expression? 'In between jobs', right now."

"Well, you seem like a bright boy. I'm sure you'll soon find
something."

Ignoring her condescending tone, he smiled modestly as if pleased at
her unexpected 'praise'. "What about you, Hunter?"

"Oh, I'm bright, too. And I already have a job."

"Cute." He returned the courtesy.

She flashed him the familiar shark's smile before giving him the
answer he already knew. "I'm a Japanese translator at the Yamazaki
Co."

He'd wondered about that when he'd first found out about her chosen
career; it just didn't seem to fit. As a rule, translators usually
weren't on the center stage or in any particular position of power -
and with Parker everything had always been about power and control.
But that, of course, was the gist of it. Parker wasn't the translator,
Hunter was. And even if she was into power as much as Parker she
certainly wouldn't be keen on being in the spotlight.

"The Yamazaki Co.? Impressive."

He'd meant it sincerely but she must've thought he was making fun of
her because she gave him a full Parker-glare.

"And what was your last job? Cleaning monkey cages?" she asked acidly.

"No. Although, that was much more fun than you'd first think," he
informed her cheerfully, finishing off his Dr. Pepper. "No, I was a
lab technician in Milwaukee."

"Fascinating." She all but yawned. "Did you work with any lab rats
while you were there?"

His smile never wavered but now it took a little effort. She was still
pissed off by a slight that never was, and he suddenly found himself
missing the late night calls when he would simply hang up on her at
will.

"It wasn't that kind of a laboratory."

She smiled sweetly at him. "Pity."

He'd wondered if she'd changed a lot during the past three years, and
now he had his answer. She might appear a tad softer, less prickly and
a little more carefree but that sharp edge of hers was simply bundled
up and put into storage where it could be taken out and put into use
when needed. The funny thing was, he wasn't really sad to see that she
still had it; she wouldn't be Parker without her endearing
disposition. He only wished that she'd lost her zeal to use it against
*him*. Of course, his own plan had been to either tease or aggravate
her into forgetting herself and thus, losing the game. It wasn't
really much of a shock to find that she had a very similar plan of her
own. So far, he couldn't tell which of them was winning.

***

There was something about the faint smell of gunpowder and hitting a
target exactly where she intended to that had a wonderfully relaxing
effect on Miss Parker. She inspected her target-sheet with a satisfied
smile and popped in a fresh clip to her trusty Smith & Wesson. She
still carried it with her everywhere she went. She'd left the Centre
but she'd found no reason to leave herself unprotected. Besides,
shooting wasn't like riding a bicycle. She had no intention to allow
herself to get rusty so, she went to the range once a week like
clockwork.

Her ulcer hadn't reminded her of its existence for the last two years
and she'd nearly forgotten she'd ever even had one. Until she'd met
Jarod again. That cup of coffee she'd had with him churned in her
stomach and she was most unpleasantly reminded of the past.

Pursing her lips she recalled their conversation. The gull that freak
had! Who did Frankenboy think he was, looking down on her and her
job?! She *liked* her job. The money was pretty good, the hours
weren't bad and as a whole she got to work fairly independently. The
last two points were especially welcome after the Centre. She'd left
Blue Cove behind and that's where it would stay. She was her own
person, now. She led her own life. It was a heck of lot more than that
Lab Rat could claim!

Staring at the new, unmarked target-sheet in the distance she forced
herself to calm down. Quick temper had always been her Achilles' heel.
She could *not* let it get the better of her, not this time, or she'd
lose the game. And she'd lost to Jarod too many times in the past. No.
This time it was his turn. The Boy Wonder was going down.

Flexing her neck muscles she put on her protective goggles and took
aim. Clearing her mind she squeezed the trigger, shooting off her
tension until the smell of gunpowder once again worked its magic on
her.

***

Jarod took in the quiet, sophisticated atmosphere of the restaurant as
he sat down. Personally, he would've preferred something a little less
formal for their dinner date but the place had been Miss Parker's
choice. Studying the quiet effectiveness with which the staff
operated, he relaxed on his seat as he waited for her.

He'd enjoyed their verbal sparring yesterday. To himself he could even
confess having missed it during the past three years. Baiting others
just didn't hold the same thrill for him; they all seemed to lack a
certain something in their returns. Miss Parker, on the other hand,
rarely disappointed him. He didn't know if it was because she, with
the exception of Sydney, knew him better than anyone, or because she
was just really talented that way. However, knowing each other as well
as he and Miss Parker did wasn't without its disadvantages. They could
understand each other, sometimes without any spoken words, but they
could also hurt each other in ways other people never could.

He didn't deny that he liked to bait her, tease her, even torment her,
and he definitely intended to win this game of theirs, but he'd never
intentionally brake her. Corny as it sounded, she was a part of him.
He didn't always like it but he'd come to accept it as the fact of
life it was. They were both creatures of the Centre. No matter how
hard they tried or how far they ran they'd never be rid of it, they'd
never be able to forget it. And yet they tried, each in their own way.

'Each in their own way'. The thought gave way to something he'd been
avoiding the past few days.

Miss Parker seemed to have found her way. She'd left the Centre
behind. She'd fooled everyone, and she'd walked out of the shadows.
She'd given up on the secrets she'd sworn to unravel. She'd given up
on the truth.

Knitting his brows at the direction his thoughts had taken Jarod
forced his mind back on track. The Game.

What a pity he couldn't Pretend his way through it, but that would've
been cheating. The game wasn't about Pretending. It was pretending,
make believe, and he couldn't hide inside someone else's skin no
matter how tempting the idea was. He'd have to be just Jarod, even if
being himself meant that he wasn't always in control of the situation.
He only hoped they wouldn't push each others buttons too far.

His musings were interrupted by the familiar clicking of stilettos
against the restaurant's marble floor. Amused, he watched as Miss
Parker walked towards him with a waiter scurrying after her,
presumably trying to show her the way.

"You're early." Miss Parker had never been into traditional greetings.

"And you're right on time." Jarod smiled.

They gave their orders to the waiter still buzzing around, and fell
into a surprisingly relaxed silence which gave Jarod an opportunity to
discreetly study his companion.

She was dressed immaculately into a sharp, charcoal suit and a
baby-blue silk blouse. She looked good; healthy and rested, and not a
least bit tense. They'd probably both been children the last time he'd
seen her so at ease in his company.

"You're staring."

Her slightly mocking voice disrupted his silent inspection.

"Sorry." Giving her an embarrassed smile, he gathered his wandering
thoughts. It truly was time to get focused on the game again. "I was
just thinking how much you resemble Miss Parker, that friend I
mentioned before."

Miss Parker rolled her eyes. "Couldn't come up with anything *more*
cliché, could you?"

"Oh, I don't know, it could've been worse," he remarked with a
mischievous glint in his eyes. "I could've said something like
'Haven't we met somewhere before?'"

"True enough," Miss Parker allowed, fighting down a sudden smile. "But
why don't we talk about you for a change."

So, they did. He told her about his childhood and of his search for
his parents, things she already knew. But he gave the familiar story a
new twist, glossing it for the sake of the game, endowing it with an
appearance of normality. He hadn't been abducted, he'd been adopted.
Sydney was his adoptive father, not his mentor and the Centre wasn't
an incarnation of everything evil but a school for gifted youngsters.
In the end, Jarod decided he'd over done even himself; his nightmarish
past had never sounded so good.

"That's quite a childhood you've had, Jarod." Miss Parker appeared
equally impressed with his story. "I hope you'll find your parents,
someday soon."

He regarded her closely for a long while, waiting for the other shoe
to drop but she seemed perfectly sincere, and for once he chose to
accept her words at face value.

"Thank you."

They finished their dinner in reflective silence, musing on what-ifs
and might-have-beens.

*

"It's still early. Care for a walk?" Miss Parker asked as they left
the restaurant.

Jarod looked at the cloudless sky, gently colored by the setting sun,
and nodded his agreement. He wasn't ready to call it a night yet,
either.

"Do you know where you'll go from here?" Miss Parker asked after a
while, returning to their earlier conversation about his search for
his parents.

Jarod glanced at her. "Not yet. Why? Anxious to see me leave,
already?"

She gave him a speculative look before turning her lips into a faint
smile. "Not yet."

Somewhat to her surprise she'd actually enjoyed their dinner, and not
all of it had to do with the game they were playing. The truth was,
Jarod could be pretty agreeable when he wasn't toying with her.

Stealing a glance at him from the corner of her eye she decided she
rather liked this new truce between them. Sure, she'd threatened to
shoot him, more than once, in the past but with the Centre out of the
picture they no longer *had* to be adversaries. And Jarod, while often
infuriating as hell, was never dull which was more than she could say
about most people.

Pausing to window-shop for a moment Miss Parker suddenly felt a
tingling at the back of her skull. It had been three years since the
last time she'd felt the same sensation that acutely but she had no
trouble identifying it. Someone was keeping on eye on her. Staring at
her - intensely.

Lifting her eyes from the dress she'd been admiring she saw the
culprit's opaque eyes reflected on the window.

"You're staring again."

For a moment she thought he hadn't heard her but then he seemed to
drag himself out of wherever he'd been.

"Sorry. I was thinking of her again. You really do look like her."

She gave him an exaggerated sigh. "So you keep telling me. You know,
I'd love to meet this lost twin of mine."

He smiled a little at the dare flashing in her blue eyes but didn't
raise to the bait. "I'm afraid that won't be possible. She's dead."

"I'm sorry. Were you two close?" She kept her voice noncommittal but
was actually quite interested in his answer.

"We were once."

His reply had been serious, and so was the silence which followed it.

She was the first to avert her gaze.

"So, what was she like, this Miss Parker?" she asked after a beat.

"She was many things. I didn't always like her but, and I never
admitted this to her, I always admired her persistence. She wasn't a
quitter. At least, she never used to be."

"Didn't used to be? I thought you said she died."

His eyes grew darker as he gave her a poignant look. "And she left
everyone behind, just like that, without a word."

She'd wondered how long it would take. He'd been more patient than she
herself would ever have been had their roles been reversed but
finally, that iron self-control of his was cracking, his emotions
fighting to be unleashed. It was time to take off the kid gloves. She
knew it wasn't going to be pretty but couldn't help feeling the old
excitement as adrenaline rushed through her veins.

"Doesn't sound to me like she had much choice. Death doesn't leave one
with a whole lot of options."

His eyes never left her face as he shook his head. "We were only
children the first time she left. She didn't have a say in it then but
this time --"

"And I suppose you've never *run* away from anyone?" The old sharpness
was back with a vengeance.

He gave a short, bitter laugh which took her slightly by surprise. "I
didn't have much choice if I wanted to live."

"But you're still here. She's not," she shot back, her eyes
challenging him to drop the act.

"She left everyone behind without a second thought. She left me
behind. But then, she was always leaving. That was sort of her
specialty, wasn't it?"

His whole being seemed suddenly darker as he re-lived the months after
her supposed death. He remembered the first, paralyzing pain and the
emptiness which had followed. And all the while she'd been alive, safe
in her new life. Not caring what her leaving had meant to the rest of
them. To him.

Miss Parker watched him change before her very eyes. He'd been heading
towards this ever since they'd left the restaurant. No, that wasn't
quite accurate. It had all began the moment he'd seen her at the park.
He'd merely taken his time getting there, to this point.

Truth be told, she'd expected him to crack much sooner. She should've
known Jarod always did things his own way, when *he* felt he was good
and ready, not a moment before. What she *hadn't* expected was for him
to be quite so furious.

While she tried to think of an answering retort a part of her brain
was idly wondering which actually angered him more - that despite all
those sims he hadn't figured out that she'd faked her own death, or
that she'd had the gall to leave the Centre on her own, for her own
reasons and not because of his 'cajoling'.

"Don't you dare accuse her of leaving you! Not when you first left her
to chase after you. Not after everything you put her through."

"Well, if we're going down that path then what about everything I've
been through? My whole *life* was stolen from me!"

"No. We're not talking about the Centre, Jarod. This is about you and
her. *You* gave her ulcer. *You* humiliated and degraded her time and
again with your sick little jokes. *That's* what this is about."

She'd just waved good-bye to her own self-control.

"What did you expect? She was trying to take me back to that
hellhole!"

"Yes, she was. It was her *job* to take you back. But you got off of
humiliating her, didn't you? You enjoyed giving her the flu and having
her strip searched. The worse it was for her the more fun it was for
you, wasn't it?" Her voice dripped with venom.

He must've been immune to it because all he did was give her that
smirk she'd come to hate during those years chasing after him.
"Well... I was on the run. Why should I had made it easy for her?"

"You really do have a twisted, sadistic streak in you, don't you? But
I shouldn't be surprised, it must run in the family. Kyle sure was
pretty twisted --"

His hand shot to her throat like a snake, and she never got to finish
her sentence.

"Don't." It was a low, almost inaudible growl.

They stood mere inches apart, their breaths mingling as they tried to
stare each other down. Time and space lost their meaning; the two of
them were the only creatures left in the Universe - and one of them
had to go.

Her breathing was becoming laborious as he, unconsciously or not, kept
adding pressure against her larynx. It was time to end the charade.

"Need I say more?" she wheezed, submitting him to an arctic
Parker-stare.

Ashamed, Jarod released his hold on her throat and backed off quickly
with a surprised look on his face. He truly hadn't realized how hard
he'd been squeezing her throat until he heard her strangled voice.

"You shouldn't have brought him into this." His tone was a peculiar
combination of accusation and apology. His eyes refused to meet hers
and he suddenly seemed to have trouble deciding where to put his
hands.

Massaging gently her abused throat it took Miss Parker a moment to
find her voice again. "Sure, blame the helpless victim, why don't
you."

Meeting her eyes briefly, he gave her a mirthless smile. "Helpless?
You? I've met cobras more helpless than you, Parker."

For a fraction of a second she felt as if an electric current had run
through her. Dropping the hand from her throat she gave him a slow,
dazzling smile of utter satisfaction.

"What?" He eyed her, suddenly cautious, ready to bolt.

"Endgame. You lost. You called me Parker."

*

The sun had set hours ago and the park was deserted save for two
people sitting in its darkest corner, silently trying to calm down
and come to grips with their respective gripes.

"You're right, I had no right to expect to be told of your plan but
what about Sydney?" Jarod asked. "You should've seen him, Parker. He
seemed to age a decade over a single night."

"Don't you think I thought of that?" she rasped, her voice still rough
from his manhandling. "But really, what was I supposed to tell him,
Jarod? 'I'm going to fake my own death and leave the Centre, have a
nice life. Oh and, be a sport, don't tell anyone'? You of all people
should know what they would've done to him if my plan had backfired."

He did know. He could understand her reasoning well enough but it
still didn't make all the hurt disappear. Her 'death' had cut him
deeper than he cared to admit. It was going to take a little time
getting past his resentment over her 'betrayal'.

Parker, too, had certain things she wanted to get cleared up.

"Just what exactly did you mean by calling me a quitter?"

Slowly, Jarod turned to look at her, cringing as he saw the faint
marks on her throat.

"The truth about your mother. The truth about my family. I never
thought you could leave before you had all the answers."

"Your family was always your quest, Jarod, not mine," she said almost
gently. "And my mother... You said you had to leave to be able to
live. Well, I had to die to get my life back. I was losing my mother,
Jarod, I could barely remember her anymore. So I left. I decided the
truth could wait if in exchange I regained the memory of her. And I
did. I have. I can see her face in my mind again, I can remember her
voice, the scent of her favourite perfume. She's with me again, and
for that the truth can wait."

"But for how long?"

His quiet question hang between them, demanding to be answered.

Their eyes locked, speaking louder than words of things they wouldn't
dare voice, yet.

This time it was he who turned away first.

After a small eternity, Miss Parker ended the pregnant silence. "For
someone who was so keen on seeing me fail in capturing you, you sure
seem eager to get me back into the game. You must've missed me."

He ignored her half-hearted jibe. "You don't have to be inside the
Centre to find out the truth, Parker."

"No, but I'd have to be alive."

He understood her perfectly. She'd managed to leave the Centre without
anyone in there being the wiser. If they ever found out the truth she
really would be dead. For real.

"Do you still care about the truth?"

"Of course I do!" She sounded offended by his question. "I haven't
given up, Jarod. I took a time-out. There's a difference between the
two."

Turning to face her again he studied her closely as if he was trying
to unravel a great mystery.

"What's it like?"

"What?"

"Time-out."

"Relaxing, until recently."

He smiled a little at her sarcasm. "I'm serious, Parker."

"You're the Pretender, figure it out."

Seeing the puppy dog look on his face, she gave out a short sigh.
"Think of it as an extended vacation."

"But vacations come to an end."

"So will this."

"Does that mean you have a plan?"

"Do I look like a moron to you? Of course I have a plan."

That the said plan was more than a little hazy was something he didn't
have to be made aware of.

He gave her a knowing look, and grinned. "You don't have a clue, do
you?"

Her blue eyes sent daggers at him but they didn't seem to have much of
an effect. Either she was getting rusty with her glares, or he'd
developed immunity against them.

"I'm not with the Centre anymore, so what's it to you?"

Turning away from her, Jarod lowered his gaze to the ground. Spotting
a small spider, he concentrated on it.

"I was just thinking about the Dover Town Bank..."

Miss Parker waited for him to finish his sentence but he seemed to be
totally engrossed with his new little friend. Crossing her arms, she
could feel the familiar irritation raise its ugly head.

"I'm not playing twenty questions with you, Jarod. Get to the point."

"We made a good team."

When he finally met her eyes again his expression was guarded, yet
hopeful.

"Jarod..."

"I know what you're going to say, Parker, but I haven't lost my mind."
He threw her a small grin. "Just think about it. We both know it
*could* work."

"Jarod, we can't even spend an evening together without one of us
trying to strangle the other."

He colored slightly at her reference to the earlier events but refused
to back down. "Echoes of the Centre. Old habits. Call it what you
will, but it doesn't mean we can't change. Just think of the
possibilities."

"No one ever really changes. I would've thought you'd have learnt that
by now."

His smile was almost triumphant, as if she'd just proved his point.

"We were friends before we became enemies, Parker," he reminded her.

"You just don't know when to give up, do you?"

"So you keep telling me."

Sighing, she regarded him anew, tracing with her eyes the familiar
lines on his face and the contours of his body sitting next to her.
She knew him better than she'd ever known any other man. She'd spent
years studying him, the way his mind worked. She'd hunted him as she
would have an animal, trying to capture him to win her own freedom.

And now he proposed that they'd work together.

It didn't make any sense. It was downright insane, that's what it was.

So, why was she even considering the possibility?

Because it *was* a possibility. She wasn't stupid. Much as she hated
to admit it, she knew that together they'd have much better chances of
finding the answers. The idea of them working together to achieve a
common goal *was* foreign, but she also found it oddly intriguing. And
they *had* worked well together in that bank....

Making sure her face revealed nothing, she met his dark eyes once
again.

"Understand, I'm not saying that I'll do it --"

She didn't get any further before his face split into a huge,
beautiful smile.

"-- but why don't you tell me what you had in mind."



- Fade Out -