Title - Saying The Words (9/?)
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.

* * * * * * * * * *

Jarod is careful not to slam the door closed as he comes back 
into the hotel room the next morning.  Miss Parker was still 
asleep and he took the opportunity to run to the drug store up 
the street.  He sets down a brown paper bag containing he 
purchases on the counter and eyes his phone contemplatively.  A 
few minutes goes by before he finally picks up it, dialing the 
ever familiar number for Sydney.

"It's me," he says to his mentor, knowing that's all he needed to 
say to identify himself.

"Jarod!  I'm relieved to hear from you.  That means you're still 
safe," Sydney says, sighing his relief.

"Safe?  What do you mean.  What's happened Sydney?"

"My phone was tapped.  I didn't realize it.  Broots has fixed it 
now, but the last time you called, Lyle was able to get a trace.  
He left a few days ago on a mission to retrieve you.  But, I see 
that he hasn't found you."

"Lyle?  So he was behind all this.  But why tap your phone?"

"He's trying to hear from Miss Parker.  And he correctly assumed 
she was with you," Sydney explains.  "Mr. Parker and Lyle are up 
to something.  They sent Miss Parker away for some sort of 
experiment.  Now that she's gone, Lyle's blaming you.  All they 
want is her back safely, they emphasized that.  But you, that's 
another story.  Lyle's basically been given permission to kill 
you if you get in his way."

 "Where was he headed?" Jarod asks, running his hand nervously 
through his hair.  He didn't like to hear that Lyle was on the 
move.  And itching to dispose of him.  Lyle was single minded in 
his tasks.  Jarod was sure he was going to focus more on finding 
him and killing him, even if that meant risking Miss Parker.

"Some place near the southwestern border of Virginia is all I 
could find out," Sydney says apologetically.

"That's where we were," Jarod gasps.  "In a little town just 
southwest of Roanoke.  It's a good thing we left when we did."  

"Why did you leave?" Syd asked.  

"It was Miss Parker.  She had a dream.  Then insisted we leave."  

"That's incredible." 

"That's not the only thing, Syd," he sighs.  

"What is it Jarod?"  

"I can't say. And I shouldn't stay on the phone for too long.  I 
just wanted you to know we were still okay."  

"Are you sure?  You don't sound too good."  

"I'm about as good as I can be in this situation.  But it's not 
me I'm worried about.  It's Miss Parker.  I'm afraid that they 
did something to her at Donoterase that she's never going to 
recover from.  Physically, she's okay.  Although she's going to 
have to get checked out by a doctor when we settle someplace.  
But mentally . . . "  He trails off on that thought, not sure 
what to say about her mental state.  But Sydney seems to 
understand what he was trying to say anyway.

"She's more fragile than she lets on, Jarod.  Just keep an eye on 
her and stick with her.  She'll be able to get through anything 
with you by her side."  

"I'm not so sure about that, but I'll do my best," Jarod smiles 
sadly.  "Listen, I have to go.  I think she's waking up now."  

"Good bye, Jarod.  Good luck."  

"Thanks, Syd.  I'm going to need it."  

Jarod hangs up the phone and listens to her shuffle around the 
room for a few minutes.  After giving her some time to get 
herself together, he picks up the bag and heads towards Miss 
Parker's room.

"Miss Parker?"  He knocks on the bedroom door before slowly 
pushing it open.  He sees the bed is empty and glances around the 
room, spotting her in a chair by the window, gazing blankly 
outside.  "How are you feeling?"

"Come on in, Jarod.  I'm not going to bite your head off like I 
did last night," she sighs wearily, turning to look at him.  She 
notices that he's not empty handed and wonders what he brought 
her.  "What's in the bag?"

"Just a little something for you," he smiles shyly.  "Something 
I'm hoping can put our minds at ease."  He sets the bag in her 
lap and watches her open it.

"You're a strange man, Jarod," she says, looking at him like he 
was crazy.  "You know, most guys bring a girl a dozen roses.  But 
you've brought me a dozen pregnancy tests."  She lifts one out of 
the bag and scans the picture on the front.

"Not a dozen.  Just nine," he smirks.  "I bought one of every 
kind they have."

"Okay.  Give me a few minutes," she says, standing from her 
chair.  "I'll go take them now."  She disappears into the 
bathroom and closes the door behind her.  Jarod waits a few 
minutes, expecting her to come out and wait with him, but she 
doesn't.  Twenty minutes later, she finally returns, her eyes red 
as if she'd been crying.

"They're positive.  All of them," she says numbly, handing him a 
blue stick.  He puts the stick on the dresser and pulls her into 
his arms.

"It's going to be alright," he promises.  "Whatever happens.  
Whatever you decide.  We'll make it alright."

She allows herself a few moments of comfort in his arms.  
Everything is pretty much a blur and confusing and a rush of 
information that her brain can barely sort out.  All she wants to 
feel is the safety his arms offers.  But she knows it's not a 
permanent solution. And after a few more moments, she pulls away 
from him.  He watches her go back to her seat by the window, 
trying to pull away emotionally as well.

He follows her across the room and kneels down in front of her, 
grabbing her hands in his own.  He has to keep some sort of 
connection with her to keep her from shutting him out completely.  
When she tenses at his touch, he realizes that it was too late.  
She had shut down again, building the wall of ice around her 
heart.  There was nothing really he could do for her right now 
than to just let her be.

"Not right now, Jarod," she pleads with him.  "I can't . . . I 
need some time."

"I understand," he whispers.  He involuntarily lifts his hand to 
tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, but quickly draws it back 
before touching her when she flinches again.  A pained look 
crosses his face at the depth of her pain and his inability to 
help her.  He rises to his feet and goes to stand by the door to 
prevent from crowding her.

"I'm sorry," she cries.  "I know that you're just trying to 
comfort me, but . . . "

"Shhh.  Don't worry about it."  His voice is now hoarse from 
trying to choke back his tears.  He has to be strong for her.  He 
tries to smile, but it ends up looking more like a pained 
grimace.  "I'll be here when you need me."

"Thanks," she sniffs, wiping her face on her sleeve.

"Do you want to stay here a few more days, or should we leave?  
I've set up some false leads for Lyle to follow.  If I timed it 
right, he should get snowed in for about a week in Denver."  He 
chuckles to himself, amused at the thought of Lyle falling for 
his trap.  "And I got a place in Georgia set up for us.  We 
should be safe there for awhile."

"No, we can go," she tells him.  "It'll be good to get settled 
someplace for now."

"Alright then.  We'll go as soon as you're ready."  He looks at 
her for a minute and opens his mouth to say something else, but 
changes his mind when he sees that she's already resumed her 
vacant gaze out the window.  Shaking his head, he eases from the 
room, realizing with sadness that she doesn't even notice. 

* * * * * * * * * *

Clarence waits patiently outside of Lyle's hotel room for the 
opportunity to talk to him.  The sweeper was new, but was well 
aware of his boss's habits.  A young Asian woman had joined him 
earlier that evening and all of the sweepers were warned that 
they were not to be disturbed.  

After about an hour, Clarence decides to leave and come back 
later.  But the sound of laughter coming towards the door stops 
him.  A few seconds later, the door opens, and Lyle's showing his 
companion the way out.

"Mr. Lyle.  A moment?" Clarence asks respectfully after Lyle's 
friend is gone, hoping not to anger the man.

"What is it, Kelvin?" Lyle sighs with exaperation.  He just had a 
pleasant evening with a beautiful woman who's name he didn't even 
remember.  He wasn't in the mood right now for overeager sweeprs.

"It's about Jarod, Sir," Clarence says, ignoring Lyle calling him 
the wrong name yet again.  "There's been a sighting."

"Really?" Lyle smiles, suddenly very happy to see the sweeper.  
"Where?"

"That's what's so confusing," Clarence starts.  "Four 
simultaneous reports came in.  One here, here, here and here."  
He points out the locations on the map for Lyle to see easily.

"They're all just about equidistant from Denver," Lyle surmises.  
"We should go there."

"That's what I thought, too, Sir.  But the weather reports are 
predicting a pretty nasty storm in the next day or two.  If we go 
there, we could be trapped for days.  Maybe even weeks."

"That's probably what he was hoping for," Lyle grins.  "I'll bet 
anything that's where his is and is trying to throw us off the 
right track.  But he's underestimates my persistence and drive.  
If he thinks a little snowstorm is going to slow me down, then 
he's mistaken."

"Very well, Sir," Clarence nods, letting himself out of the room 
to go gather the troops.

Lyle looks at the map again after the sweeper leaves and laughs.  

"And they think *you're* the genius, Jarod," he says outloud to 
the empty room.  "But you can be outsmarted.  I'm about to prove 
that point.  When I get to Denver, the Centre will see who the 
real genius is."

He folds up the map and places it in his briefcase.  Soon, he 
promises himself.  Soon Jarod will be dead, leaving only his 
child as his legacy.  And with that, Lyle will be able take 
permanent charge of the Centre.

To be continued . . .