Title - Saying The Words (8/?) Author - Nicky Rating - PG Category - JMPR Summary - Jarod tries to say good-bye, but ends up coming back to rescue Miss Parker and finds her in a surprising predicament. Disclaimer - The characters aren't mine. I'm just using them for my own entertainment purposes. * * * * * * * * * * The sun glares unmercifully through the windows, thwarting Miss Parker's efforts to open her sleep filled eyes. She finally pries them open, squinting to block out the invading light, and takes a look out the window to try to determine their location. They've been on the road for what seems like an eternity and she was getting sick of it. Actually, she was just getting plain sick. She lets out a groan of discomfort as the car flies down a particularly bumpy road, upsetting her already queasy stomach. "You're up," he smiles cheerfully when he notices she's awake. "Is it morning?" she asks, her voice raspy from sleep. She uses her hand as a shield against the sun. "Evening, actually. We decided to head west after leaving Memphis, remember?" "That was last night. Jarod, I've been asleep for a whole day?" she sits up quickly in her seat and instantly regretting the action when her stomach rebels. "How much did you let me drink? I've been passed out for a whole day and my stomach is killing me." "You didn't drink a lot. Just a sip of your beer." He takes his eyes off the road for a second to glance at her and winces sympathetically when he sees the green tint to her skin and the thin sheen of sweat on her face. "You really are sick, aren't you? Must have been the ribs . . ." "Ribs?" "Yeah. By my estimation, you ended up eating close to two slabs of Memphis' finest," he laughs. "Plus you ate my cole slaw and fries." "Eww, I hate cole slaw," she says, skinning up her nose at the mention of the food. "Not last night," he grins. "You couldn't get enough of it." "Well, it's no wonder I'm feeling ill," she groans. "You think we can stop for the night? I know you must be tired and I may have slept, but I don't think I'm in any condition to drive." "Okay," he agrees easily, realizing he was getting too tired to be driving. And also realizing she needed a break from moving around so much. "I'll pull over at the next hotel we get to." He grabs her hand and kisses it, not knowing what else to do to comfort her. This seems to help, though, and she gives him a grateful smile before closing her eyes and drifting back to sleep. Still holding onto her hand, he turns his concentration back to the road and looks for a place to stay for the night. * * * * * * * * * * Sydney wanders around in the dark, glancing down at his watch for the fourth time since he got there. A rustling in the bushes scare him and he quickly turns around to find himself face to face with Broots. "Why all the secrecy, Broots? I think I'm a bit too old for the cloak and dagger routine," Sydney laughs. "Once you hear what I have to tell you, then you'll understand," Broots whispers, looking around nervously. "Let's walk, Syd." "What's this all about?" "Just keep walking. You're being followed." Broots nods over his shoulder at a dark car parked across the street. "His name is Clarence. He's a new sweeper working for Lyle. The DSA Angelo gave you was a conversation between Lyle, Mr. Parker, and this guy Clarence. Apparently, he's been keeping close tabs on you, and your phone calls, to see if Miss Parker contacts you. They're pretty desperate to get her back." "But why?" Sydney is curious. "That wasn't on the DSA. She's apparently part of some project of theirs. They want her back as soon as possible. They don't even care about Jarod anymore. They'll take him back dead or alive now." "No," Sydney gasps. "It can't be. Jarod's their biggest success. They've spent years trying to recapture him. Why all of a sudden is he expendable?" "I don't know, Syd. But I'm guessing it has something to do with whatever this project is." "You're probably right," Sydney agrees. "So what do we do now?" "We can't do anything, unfortunately. Just hope that Jarod calls again so we can warn him. I've made sure to put a scrambler on your phone so it can't be traced anymore." "What if we're too late?" "We'll soon find out," Broots says, shaking his head. "Lyle got information that Jarod and Miss Parker were about 400 miles from here. He should be closing in on them soon. Probably as we speak." * * * * * * * * * * Lyle sits at the desk in the hotel conference room, a make shift headquarters for his team of sweepers. A map of southern Virginia was spread out in front of him as he studiously examined it. The sudden ringing of the phone breaks him out of his concentration. "Mr. Lyle, it's your father," a sweeper says, handing him a phone. "Any news, Lyle?" Mr. Parker asks optimistically. "Not yet," Lyle sighs dejectedly. "I feel like I'm close, though. Like he's right under my nose and I can't find him." "Keep your focus, Son. You're looking for your sister, not Jarod. Remember, don't let thoughts of revenge distract you." "I remember," Lyle assures him. "Have you heard anything else from the people watching Sydney? Has Jarod contacted him again?" "Not since that first time. Listen, just give it a few days. Poke around the towns there showing their pictures. I'll let you know if they try to contact Sydney again. They're bound to show up sooner or later. You sister's in no condition to stay on the run forever." "I guess you're right, Dad. They'll have to come out of the woodwork eventually. And when they do, I'll be right here waiting on them." He hangs up the phone with a renewed sense of determination to find them. There was no way he was letting Jarod get away. Not when he finally had the permission to take care of him once and for all. * * * * * * * * * * Jarod leads Miss Parker down the hallway of the hotel. She almost bit his head off in the car when he woke her up to let her know he had found a place to stay. Now, all he wanted to do was to get her inside so that she can get the rest she so obviously needed. "Here we are. Home sweet home. At least for tonight," Jarod says, opening the door to their hotel room. They were able to get a suite. She'd sleep in the bedroom and he would sleep out in the living room on the couch. "What do you think?" "Charming," she growls, her mood sinking even more. "I really don't care, so long as there's a bed. I'm going to sleep." "No big surprise there," he snaps. "I think I've seen you conscious all of three times since I rescued you from Donoterase almost two weeks ago. I guess I should get some sleep myself since it doesn't look like you'll be doing any of the driving. Apparently I'm playing chauffer to you this trip." "Whatever," she snaps back, attempting to slam the door in his face. But he sticks his foot inside before it can close. "What is up with you? Did I offend you in some way? What's your problem?" "My problem is that I'm exhausted, Jarod. Yet, you feel the need to hold these big discussions with me when really all I want to do is get out of these tight, uncomfortable clothes and get into that bed." He looks at her and can see that she really is exhausted. He knows that she still feels sick from before And he almost feels sorry for her. But her moods have been erratic at best, but more along the lines of schizophrenic. One minute she was her usual self. The next she was all over him and couldn't seem to touch him enough. The next minute she'd be yelling at him. And he was sick of it. Instead of keeping his mouth shut, he decides to play dirty along with her. "Clothes too tight?" he asks, grinning smugly at her. "I guess when you put away half a pig like you did the other night, then the pounds might start piling on." "Shut up, Jarod," she spits out, trying to hide the hurt. But he ignores her and continues anyway. "Or maybe it's just a little water weight gain. I hear a lot of women have this problem when it's that time of the month." "Shut up," she warns him again through clenched teeth. She had gone beyond hurt and was getting angry at him. "That's probably the reason. You have been acting a bit premenstrual lately . . . ." His sentence is cut off by the sound of the bedside lamp crashing into the wall by his head. They both stare open mouthed at the broken light surrounding him on the floor. "Get out," she sighs defeated, too tired to fight anymore. "Just get out." She turns her back on him and waits until she hears the door close before she sinks onto the bed and starts sobbing uncontrollably. He stands outside the door, kicking himself mentally for what he said to her. She's been through a terrible ordeal and he should understand that it's going to take awhile before she's back to normal. He should have been more patient. And now, she was on the other side of the door crying because of him. He felt awful. Slowly, he eases his way back into the bedroom to avoid startling her and ending up with another lamp tossed towards his head. But she doesn't even hear him. She remains face down on the bed, crying. He walks over to her and sits next to her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to tease you," he says, stroking her hair to try and sooth her. "You're tired and upset and I shouldn't have said the things that I said." "It's not that," she cries, lifting her tear stained face to look at him. "Look at me. I'm a mess. I don't blame you for what you said. I look terrible. I feel horrible. And I must smell even worse. I'm acting like such a deranged lunatic. My emotions are all over the place and it's not fair the way I'm treating you." She wipes the tears from her face and crawls into his lap, surprising him with the action. She wraps her arms around him and pulls herself close to him, almost as if she were trying to pull herself into him. "I'm sorry I threw the lamp at you." "It's okay," he assures her. "I'm sorry I was being a typical male and blaming your mood swings on PMS. You've been through a lot. I should be more understanding and patient." "I'm almost certain this isn't PMS. Not even close," she sighs, pausing a minute to organize her thoughts. "Jarod, when I was at Donoterase, I think they did something to me. I'm sure of it, actually. And now, I think . . . I think I'm . . . pregnant." After a brief silence, she looks up at him, wondering what he's thinking. "You don't look surprised." "Nothing they do surprises me," he whispers, his voice clouded with the tears threatening to break free. "I had suspected, but didn't want to say anything to you. I didn't want to believe something like that, especially after I found out you destroyed my genetic material. But, it all makes sense. The plans they had to use the material. You disappearing. All of your symptoms. When you think about it, it all adds up." "You know, we're two pretty smart people. You'd think we would have figured it out." She gives a mirthless laugh. "It's just, I didn't even consider it. I haven't . . . you know . . . *been* with anyone since Tommy. But, I'm guessing Mr. Turkey Baster and I became intimately acquainted while I was being held." She tries to force out another laugh, but it comes out more as a cry. And soon the tears are flowing again. "I'm sorry," he says through his own tears, not really knowing what else to say. "Why did they do this?" she sobs. "I feel so violated. Like my entire life has meant nothing more to them than getting me to this moment where I can play hostess to their little science experiment." "I . . . I'm sorry," he repeats. He can feel her pain and is helpless to do anything about it. All he can do is hold her and try to reassure her. He lifts his hand to gently stroke her hair when he feels her flinch and pull away. "I'm okay now," she says, climbing off of his lap and moving across the room. "I think I just need to get some sleep." "Miss Parker . . . " "Just leave please," she whispers, afraid the tears will return. He takes a step towards her to make sure she's really okay. But she retreats further into a corner, getting as far away from him as she physically can in the hotel room. His heart breaks seeing her reaction to him, but he realizes what she just said. She *was* violated. Raped, in a way. He can only imagine what she's feeling, being that far out of control. This was her way of calling the shots. Getting the control back. "Alright," he relents. "But I'll be right outside this door if you need anything." He smiles at her and then closes the door behind him. He goes to his bed on the sofa, but is unable to sleep. Too much happened tonight for his mind to rest. He gets up and starts pacing instead. A baby changes everything. And the fact that it could possibly be *their* baby was mind boggling. Too much to be thinking about this soon. First they had to make sure there was a baby. Then they could go from there. He returns to the couch and is finally able to rest, knowing what he must do. To be continued . . .