Blue Cove

The day dawned grey and foreboding, matching Madeline’s mood. After contacting Parker’s colleagues to advise them they would be pursuing leads off site, Parker and Madeline set to work, attempting to iron out the details of Jarod’s rescue.

Parker paced the kitchen, her cup of coffee forgotten on the counter. Last night’s excitement had faded, leaving behind a pessimism that was causing Madeline’s own vague confidence to fade.

“Can you convince him to meet with me?” she said for the second time.

“I don’t know.” Parker shook her head, pausing in her pacing long enough to meet Madeline’s eyes. “Is that necessary?”

“It might be. I can convey a greater degree of trust – and need – in person.”

Parker nodded, a small frown on her face. “If he doesn’t agree to this…”

“We’ll convince him.”

“He’s spent six years struggling against The Centre, Madeline. He won’t give that up – not without a struggle.”

“Then we’ll struggle.” Rising, she crossed the kitchen to stand before Parker, placing a hand on her arm. “We’ll make him see reason.”

“I wish I had your confidence.”

So do I. Madeline thought, guiding Parker towards the table. Her cordless phone sat on the edge, and Madeline picked it up, holding it out to Parker. “Make the call.”

Parker took the phone, resuming her pacing as she dialled. “Syd?” She paused, listening, then frowned. “Yeah, sort of. Listen – I need your help.”

She paused at the counter, tapping a finger against her coffee mug. “No. I need you to contact Jarod for me.”

She was quiet for a long moment, eyes turned towards the floor, her hand clenched on the receiver. “You know me better than that…No…Just get him to contact me – It’s important.”

She turned away, facing the cabinets. Her voice dropped, barely above a whisper. “Syd – Please. Just get him to call…Thanks.”

Placing the phone on the counter, she didn’t turn immediately, instead placing her hands palm down on the counter. “Now we wait, I guess,” she said, quietly. “Syd’ll come through.”

“He gave you trouble.” It was a statement, not a question, but Parker nodded anyways. When she turned to face Madeline, her face was bleak, her eyes cloudy.

“He sees what’s going on at The Centre. He’s assuming I’m working to bring Jarod back. He has no reason to believe otherwise.”

“He’ll still do it?”

“Yeah. And I think Jarod will respond. He knows the truth – I think.”

“So we wait.” Madeline rose, crossing the kitchen once more to retrieve Parker’s coffee mug from the counter. Gesturing for Parker to sit, she refilled the mug from the pot warming on the stove.

“We wait.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

By late evening of the following day both women were certain their request had been ignored. After all, neither Sydney nor Jarod had any reason to believe that Parker was sincere. She’d worked too hard over the past few months to convince The Centre – and by extension, Sydney and Jarod – that everything was as it had been; that all she wanted was to see Jarod returned. And unfortunately, it seemed she’d been extremely successful.

“I’m sorry.” Parker frowned, eyeing the phone as though it was it that had betrayed her. She sat forward on the couch, elbows on her knees, head in her hands. “I really thought he would call.”

“We’ll talk to Sydney – or we’ll find another way.”

“We’re running out of time.”

The sound of the phone startled them both, and Parker’s eyes widened as she reached for the handset. Madeline gave her a supportive smile, placing a hand on her knee, and nodding towards the phone. “Now or never.”

Parker picked up the phone, bringing the receiver to her ear. “Hello?”

Parker released a ragged breath, sitting back heavily on the couch. “Jarod,” she said, relief making her voice heavy. She paused then, smiling slightly. “I wouldn’t have, but it’s important.” Another pause, longer this time. “He did? I’m not surprised. A little disappointed, not surprised.” She frowned. “I know…I know.”

Running a hand through her hair, Parker sat up once more, glancing in Madeline’s direction. “Listen, Jarod – I need you to meet with someone.” Parker bit her lip, clearly suppressing the urge to snap. As it was, her tone was caustic. “No, no sweepers. I don’t set traps, Jarod.”

Parker took a deep breath. “Jarod. This woman can help us…She’s a friend.” Her hand clenched on the handset, knuckles going white. “Meet with her, listen to what she has to say.” She shook her head, closing her eyes in frustration. “Damnit, Jarod. You can make the arrangements with her. I won’t be party to them. Trust me this once, please.” Her last plea was desperate, her voice breaking slightly as she spoke. “Thank you.”

Taking the phone from her ear, she passed it to Madeline, rising to cross the room. She watched anxiously as Madeline placed the receiver to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Who are you?”

“Madeline. I’m a friend of Parker’s.”

“So she said – she doesn’t have many friends. She must trust you a great deal.”

“She does.”

“Tell me what this is about.”

“The Centre. Your future.”

“I see.” There was a pause, as if he was considering her words. “You understand my concern, with meeting you?”

“Yes. You choose the location. I will arrive first, so you can see I’m alone.”

“And Parker?”

“Won’t be attending. We thought it best.”

“Yes.” Another pause.

Madeline looked towards Parker. She’d taken a seat on the bench by the window, her gaze shifting between Madeline and the darkness outside. Despite her apparent distraction, however, Madeline was certain she was listening to everything that was said.

“Washington, DC.” Jarod continued, as though completing a thought. “Far enough away from The Centre, and easy for me to access.”

“Understood. Where, specifically?”

“National Cathedral. Saturday. After the evening prayer service. I’ll find you.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Washington DC – National Cathedral, Interior

Madeline entered the chapel quietly, slipping in through the back as the prayer service continued up front. Despite her attempts, however, her entrance was noticed, several patrons turning to glare up at her from their places in the back pews. Their eyes burned as she walked her final few steps and sat down, making the sign of the cross as she did so.

Her hand at her right shoulder, Madeline stopped. Slowly, she brought her hand to her lap, as though uncertain that it would obey the command. She felt lost suddenly, betrayed by her own unconscious. Or perhaps, she had betrayed it.

It seemed sacrilege, after all these years, to be setting foot in a church, let alone performing acts that implied some sort of devotion. Yet, here she was, behaving as though the intervening years hadn’t happened.

Even after all her time in Section, the unconscious mind never ceased to amaze her, how a sight or a sound could trigger an ingrained response, even after years had passed. How an adult, confronted with a childhood fear, would react with the same fervour they had then – even when they purported to be over it.

Or how a women, who had long ago given up on God, found herself awed in his sanctuary.

“You seem upset.”

The pew creaked as the man took a seat; his body close to hers. She could feel the heat of him, smell the leather of his jacket. Looking up, Madeline was surprised to find the crowd dispersing, the drone of conversation replacing the murmured prayers of the attendees. It echoed in the vast hall, surprisingly loud against the previous quiet – how had she missed the change.

“Merely distracted,” she replied, turning towards the man next to her. His dark hair was cropped short, army style; his bomber jacket opened just enough to reveal a finely toned chest beneath a white tee. He hadn’t dropped his pretend, even for their meeting. “Everyone has their demons.”

He smiled at that, turning towards the departing crowd. “Some kill.”

“The living ones,” Madeline agreed. “Most of mine of long dead.”

He turned back towards her, his head tilted slightly as though to see her from a different angle. His eyes were dark, the hollowness so familiar to her in Parker’s eyes even deeper in his. “Are you sure?’

Turning away from Jarod, Madeline looked around the chapel once more, feeling the same wonder she’d felt on first entering: the silence reverence that spoke of grief and the beginnings of pain. “The last time I was in a church like this,” she began, surprised that she was doing so, “was my sister’s funeral. I was seven.”

She paused, not sure she was willing to go on. As she turned back to him, something in his eyes compelled her. “The sorrow was overpowering. The feeling that something heavy hung there, pushing down on me. Beyond my understanding.”

“Grief is a difficult concept for children to grasp,” he said. He didn’t speak for a moment, leaving her to her own thoughts. “You know,” he said, the childish lilt to his voice almost dispelling the previous seriousness. “If you were to go out to the northwest parking lot, and look up at the nave from the outside, you’d see a carving of Darth Vader’s mask.”

"Darth Vader?" she repeated his words, disbelief lacing her voice. His change of topic seemed random, unsettling. She wondered suddenly if he was teasing her.

"Yes,” he continued, his tone evening out into something more grave. “Apparently it was a contest won by a child. When he thought of demons, Darth Vader – a fictional character – was all he could come up with.”

He stopped, meeting her eyes. Unknowingly, she’d succeeded in gaining his trust. And perhaps, his friendship.

“All childhoods should be so innocent,” he finished, looking up towards the cross positioned above the nave, “and all evils so easily dispelled.”

The crowd emptied out around them, leaving them alone in the back of the chapel, the silence almost as overpowering as the previous din. “Parker believes you’re in danger,” Madeline said finally, pitching her voice low.

Jarod chuckled, the smile that spread across his face stopping short of his eyes. “For six years she’s been the cause.”

“I think you know that’s changed.” He turned, studying her again as he had before. She smiled, then turned to meet his eyes. “The Centre has redoubled its efforts since Carthis. Lyle is also tracking you.”

“I know.” Jarod nodded. “A couple of times, I’ve barely slipped away”

“If you know about the danger…”

“I’ve thought about disappearing completely,” he said, glancing towards the nave. The clergy were finishing up, speaking to a few remaining patrons, before they ushered them out as well. “Of walking into a pretend, and never coming out again.”

“Then why not?”

“Parker, Sydney and Broots.” He smiled gently, his eyes, for the first time since he’d sat down, softening. “Lyle’s involvement is incidental. If I vanish, blame will be placed squarely on their shoulders. Particularly hers. I won’t risk her life.”

“What if I told you I could change that. Help you vanish, without any risk to Parker.”

“You have that power?”

“I have the resources.”

“Why?”

Madeline froze, uncertain quite how to respond. The truth was, she’d never considered the reasons why. The answer to Parker’s dilemma had seemed obvious, necessary even. Why? had never crossed her mind.

“I don’t have many friends,” she said, smiling as she realized she was mimicking his earlier words. “I have to take care of the ones I have.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

London – 2 years earlier

“I’ve been told,” Parker slurred, leaning back and closing her eyes, “that I don’t play well with others.”

Madeline smiled, not particularly surprised by the declaration and far too drunk to fake it. “I can’t imagine why,” she replied instead.

Parker’s eyes fluttered open and she glared across the table. “Now – listen here. I’m very easy to get along with.” She paused, suddenly looking unconvinced of her own words. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

“Ah, yes,” Madeline said, patting Parker’s hand where it lay on the table. “But I am also difficult. And…”

Parker raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“And, I’m far too drunk to leave.”

Parker was silent, her forehead wrinkled in thought. “But,” she began, lifting her glass. She swirled the scotch in it, staring into the dark liquid. “We weren’t always drunk.”

“No.” There was a point coming, Madeline was sure of it.

“And we both stayed then.”

“Yes.”

“So everyone must be wrong!” Parker declared, placing her glass down on the table with a bang. “We are not the problem here. It’s the world.”

“The world?”

“Yes. The world is wrong.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Washington – National Cathedral, Grounds

“You think you can pull this off?” Jarod stopped walking, glancing back towards the cathedral. He pointed upwards, in between two arches. “Up there.”

“I know I can.” Madeline looked where he pointed, not able to make out the sculpture from this distance, but amused by the thought of its presence. “It’s almost second nature to me.”

“Faking people’s deaths?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“You’re probably right.” He smiled, his face shadowed in the dimming light of the setting sun. They walked on in silence, Jarod carefully keeping a careful eye on there surroundings. “Madeline,” he began, and she could tell he was choosing his words carefully. “I appreciate all you’ve done.”

“Jarod…”

Raising a hand to stop her, he continued. “You need to understand something. This game of Parker’s and mine, it goes far deeper than run and chase. In spite of the last six years, in some ways, because of them, I can’t leave her behind. I know too much, about The Centre, about us. I’m not the only one who needs to escape.” He paused, the look of desperation on his face highlighting his next words. “Help Parker too – and you have a deal.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Blue Cove

“It’s done.”

Madeline nodded sadly, closing her eyes a moment. “I wish it hadn’t come to this.”

The moment passed in silence, then she opened her eyes again, intent. “Do they know?”

The answer was clear in Walter’s expression, he looked at the floor, scratching at his bandana. “Yeah.”

“I’ll take care of them when I return.” Walter flinched, raising his eyes. There was fire in them, his loyalties divided. She would need to deal with that as well. Suppressing a sigh, she continued. “Where is he now?”

“Still in Washington. Funeral is at Arlington, tomorrow morning.”

“Impressive.”

Walter nodded, glancing away, towards Comm. “Listen, I gotta run. Mission prepping.”

“Walter.” He paused, turning back to her, almost fearful.. “I owe you one,” she said, fully intending to deliver – somehow, and wishing the years hadn’t changed them quite so much. “Thank you.”

He smiled. “S’alright. It needed doing. And I owe him.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Washington – Arlington National Cemetery

An icy wind blew across the cemetery, carrying the scent of flowers and dried leaves. The leaves eddied along the concrete, swirling around Madeline’s feet as she made her way along the path. Despite the brisk air, the sun shone brightly, white clouds casting the occasional shadow across the gravestones.

As she came near the place she’d been directed to, she stopped, feeling her chest tighten at the sight before her . The area was set up for a funeral, folding chairs and elaborate flower arrangements framing the open grave. A small altar stood at one end, a folded flag on top of it, a mound of dirt at its base. Paul sat alone among the chairs, the only patron left at a funeral that had ended over an hour before. He was stiff-backed, his head bowed, staring into the hole that now held his friend.

She knew then that she shouldn’t have come. Vietnam and Willie were a part of Paul’s life he rarely shared with her, choosing to keep his pain well hidden, separate from their day to day life. In truth, he failed miserably, but she didn’t let on – didn’t offer comfort - even though, at times like these, she wished she could. And now, seeing him alone in his grief - and her as its cause – only made the situation more difficult to take.

Deep down, she knew what she’d done had been right – Willie’s secret would have destroyed Paul; left everything he knew in the dust. But, she also knew that if he ever discovered what she’d done, it would add yet another wedge between them. It seemed that, intentionally or unintentionally, they always found ways to hurt each other. And she wished like hell that wasn’t the case.

She was pulled out of her reverie by movement. Slowly, as though it pained him, Paul rose from his seat, pulling his coat tight around him. Skirting the altar, he moved towards the pile of dirt, bending to lift a handful into his palm. Then, crouching at the edge of the grave, he allowed it to sift through his fingers, some blowing away into the air. For a moment, he closed his eyes, and Madeline swallowed the lump the grew up in her throat. I’m so sorry, she thought, willing him to hear her thoughts.

Wiping his hand on his coat, he rose, turning towards the altar and the folded flag. Taking it into his arms, he clasped it tightly to his chest – a talisman, or a security blanket, that he was loath to part with. With one final glance towards the open grave, he began to walk, skirting through the gravestones, avoiding the main path out of the cemetery.

Madeline watched him go, then turned in the opposite direction, wondering what had driven her here. She’d never intended to approach him, had known that it would be suspicious for her to be in Washington at this, of all times. And yet she’d come, to observe, and to be part of his grief. It was selfish, she supposed; a desire to be a part of his life, to recreate, on some level, what they’d had years ago.

What Parker and Jarod could have, if they were given the chance – if Madeline gave them that chance.

She paused, glancing back towards the grave site. Jarod’s request shouldn’t have taken her by surprise. After all she’d observed, all that Parker had told her about her life, and Jarod’s part in it, she should have been expecting the ultimatum. Nevertheless, she had been surprised, astounded actually, that Jarod would risk his own life to ensure Parker’s safety. That her life held more importance for him than his own.

How cynical she’d become.

She knew she could do it. A slight modification of her plan, a few more favours called in, and she could release them from their trap, allow them a freedom they’d never known. She’d be giving them but she couldn’t provide for herself, or for Paul. The chance to go back – the chance to be friends, or lovers, unfettered by their past or fears for their future.

It was a redemption – and Madeline knew it had to be done.

Pulling out her cell phone, she dialled the number Jarod had given her, resuming her walk to her car. He picked up after a single ring, startling her. “Yes?”

“Consider it done,” she said. “I’ll speak to Parker and make the arrangements. I can contact you here?”

“Yes.” His voice was breathy, as though the reality had just hit him. “You can really do this?”

“By the end of next week, Centre will believe you both dead – no questions asked.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Blue Cove

“No.” Parker said firmly, sitting forward on the window seat. “Absolutely not.”

“Parker.” Madeline sighed, looking across at the other woman. “Don’t be naïve.”

“I’m naïve? You think you can get two of us out of The Centre with no one noticing.”

“People will notice; that’s the point.” She paused, letting her words sink in. “Jarod won’t go without you, Parker. Think about what that means.”

“I…”

“Really think.”

Parker looked down, shaking her head. “I know what it means.”

“Do you? It’s a chance at a real life, like you wanted with Thomas.”

“But we know how that turned out.”

“Because of The Centre.” Madeline rose, crossing the room to sit next to Parker, placing a hand on her thigh. “You have a chance to escape that - and you have a chance to be with Jarod.” Parker looked up, and Madeline saw the fear in her eyes. “Don’t throw this away because you’re afraid. You have a chance at freedom – do you know what I would give for that same chance?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

London – Two years earlier

“When I was young, it was an opportunity,” Madeline began, happy that she managed not to slur her words. She was aware that she was skirting a difficult slope; the line between what was, and wasn’t, acceptable intel fading with her sobriety. So far, however, she wasn’t in any danger. “It saved my life.”

“You said was,” Parker replied. She signalled the waiter, gesturing for him to bring them another bottle of scotch. “S’not an opportunity now?”

Madeline leaned across the table, wiggling her finger for Parker to do the same. Their faces were only inches apart. “It’s a trap,” she whispered. “It always was.”

“Ah ha…” Parker said, resting her chin on her hands. Madeline’s fingers twitched; the desire to touch the woman’s face overwhelming. “I am infin – very familiar with traps,” she continued. “They always seem…so innocent in the beginning. Then - BAM! – the metal teeth close over your ankle…”

Madeline nodded, pulling herself back and leaning against the seat. “It kills you slowly, one piece at a time…” Parker’s scent had followed her back – scotch and cigarettes, with the lingering scent of ginger. “There’s no escape.”

Parker sighed, leaning back, eyes closed. “So we find what comfort we can,” she said softly. “Until that’s taken too.”

Madeline reached across the table, touching Parker’s hand where it rested on her glass. “One day at a time, Parker. What other choice do we have?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Wa Keeney, Kansas

Madeline made her away along the dim corridor, gun drawn. A sweeper team followed behind her, four men who were less than thrilled about being where they were. The glory attached to bringing in Jarod was foremost in their minds, and there was no such recognition involved in helping a strange women kill a man who meant nothing to The Centre.

But they helped, if grudgingly.

“You two, break off that way. It should bring you to a second entrance to the room.” And take you out of the line of fire. “Shoot to kill.”

Separating into two groups they continued on, Madeline’s group following the sound of laughter at the end of the corridor. It was then that things started to go awry – or so it appeared.

The laughter ended abruptly, the door at the end of the hall opening to reveal several men, heavily armed. Her companions reacted well, firing before the other group had the chance. Two men went down, a third getting off a shot before he too fell.

Pinned in a doorway, Madeline fired into the approaching men, taking down two of her own in quick succession. As the last man exited the room, she rose, stepping out into the corridor to meet her target head on.

Jim Tyler was a broad, bulky man, his reddish hair cropped short in military style, his features harsh, yet friendly at the same time. It was part of his intrigue, why people flocked to join him – and why he was incredibly dangerous.

The man before her now was lighter, his features lacking the friendly camaraderie of Tyler, his reddish hair a shade too dark. But he was close, close enough to fool the men at The Centre, and in a moment, as dead as the man he was impersonating.

Madeline fired, her shot striking home in Tyler’s chest. As he collapsed to the ground, he fired, and the bullet drove Madeline back against the wall, her thigh awash with pain. The shot had been too good, entering her leg mid-thigh, instead of grazing the exterior. “Damnit,” she moaned, as she sunk to the floor. The pain was intense, but nothing she couldn’t handle. Still, it would make her journey back to the entrance that much more difficult.

Tyler’s men were all down, as well as one of hers. The other came across the hallway towards her, reaching out to lift her off the ground. “We’ve gotta get out of here,” he said, breathless. “Two of them made a run for it – I heard ‘em talking. They’ve booby-trapped the building. We’re gonna be sitting on a pile of rubble in about five minutes.”

“You need to find the others,” Madeline began, rising unsteadily. “I can make it out. Find them, warn them.”

“Are you …”

“Don’t question me,” she snapped, pushing him in the direction the others had gone. “Do it!”

He ran off, and Madeline watched him go, hoping he didn’t try anything stupid. She needed him and his companions to make it out of the building; counted on them to let Parker know she was still inside.

Using her hand to steady herself on the wall, she began her journey back to the entrance. Five minutes had been a convenient exaggeration, but it was far too close to the truth.

She was resting against a wall when Parker found her. “What happened?”

“Lucky shot.” Madeline cringed, feeling Parker’s arm slide around her waist, steadying her. “You got Jarod?”

“Gunshot wound to the chest,” she began, as the two of them started once again for the entrance. “Close, but not too close – Syd’s with him now, Centre is sending a chopper.”

“Good.” She glanced at Parker’s face, noticing the worry etched there. “He’ll be fine.”

“I know.” She paused, looking sideways at Madeline, and tightening her arm across her waist. “Talk to Syd for me, please. Let him know, somehow, that we’re all right?”

“I will.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence, moving quickly through the corridors and stairwells until they came to the entrance. They stopped about ten feet from the door, Parker leaving Madeline balanced against a wall. “How long do we have?” she asked.

“A minute or two.”

“I should get moving then.” She didn’t move, glancing down instead at Madeline’s bleeding leg, concern clouding her features. “Are you sure you can make it?”

Madeline nodded, gesturing for Parker to go. “I’ll be fine. Get going.”

She waited until Parker was on her way, then turned back towards the door, ten feet suddenly seeming like several miles. Stumbling along the wall, she made it to within a foot of the door before she heard the first explosion coming from deep within the compound. The second explosion came quickly after that, then a third; the final two bringing down the building behind her just as she exited, two of the sweepers catching her as she fell.

“Parker?! Where is she??!” one of them yelled.

Madeline gasped, blackness invading her eyesight. “Right behind me…”

The two men pulled her clear of the building, staring at the rubble with dismay. There was no way anyone could have survived the explosion. She knew it, and so did they.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Blue Cove

The Centre’s medical lab looked very much like Section’s – dull greys and bright whites, with the over-sanitized smell of a place that dealt far too frequently with death. And soon, there would be another.

Lying back in the bed, Madeline removed the IV from her hand, unwilling to sleep through the next event. So far, her plan had gone off without a glitch. Parker’s death had been deemed a horrific accident, and her remains – what little had been found – given over to her only living relative, Mr. Lyle, for burial. No questions asked. No tests performed. Ever the loving family.

Jarod’s return, as expected, had attracted far more attention. Attention that, soon enough, would be the perfect cover for his death. The more people that witnessed it, the fewer questions would be asked.

Glancing at the bedside clock, Madeline fought her drowsiness. A few more minutes, and the second part of the plan would go into effect. Once that happened, events would progress on their own – but until then…

The frantic beeping of a heart monitor interrupted her thoughts, the sound of running footsteps accompanying the shouts of the medical staff attending Jarod. Rising from her bed, Madeline moved into the doorway, watching the futile efforts of those on the floor.

The monitor continued to beep, its tone now a solid pulse that echoed through the halls. She could hear the doctors struggling in the other room, Lyle angrily urging them to use every means necessary to revive his prized catch.

In the hallway, it seemed time stood still. Nurses watched and waited. Sydney hovered anxiously, unable to leave. As she watched him, tears in his eyes, her promise to Parker came back to her. Perhaps this wasn’t the most appropriate time, but she wasn’t sure there would be a better one.

Grabbing a robe out of the closet by the bed, Madeline crossed the hall, seating herself in the chairs across from Jarod’s room. After a moment, Sydney joined her.

“I’m sorry,” she said gently.

He smiled faintly, amused. “It wasn’t your doing.”

“Not directly. But things would certainly have gone differently had I not been here.”

“Perhaps. But they’ve both skirted this line for a long time.” He paused, glancing towards Jarod’s room. The monitors had stopped, silence descending on the busy corridor. Shaking his head, he closed his eyes. “So young.”

“And so much life ahead of them,” Madeline said softly, touching Sydney’s knee. Opening his eyes, he turned towards her. “They’re free, Sydney,” she continued, making eye contact. “Parker is gone, and soon Jarod will be too.”

Sydney frowned, clearly not understanding the implication of her words. His attention shifted back down the hallway, to where Lyle was emerging from Jarod’s room. Staff ran in all directions, avoiding the young man’s wrath.

“Sydney,” she began again, drawing his attention away from the room and back towards her. “They’re safe, or will be shortly.”

This time, her remarks struck home; his sadness replaced with confusion. He wanted to believe her, wanted to hope. “But we watched him die.”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Drugs,” she said simply. “His death is merely illusion. Everything in his body has slowed to a crawl.” She paused, finding the technicalities difficult to condense. “He’ll recover, Sydney. It will be slow, but he’ll be himself again.”

He seemed at a loss for words, tears clouding his eyes. “Thank you.”

They sat in silence for a moment, watching the last of the people leave Jarod’s room. Then, finally, Sydney rose. “Can I help you back to your room?” he asked, offering an arm.

“No.” She smiled, and was pleased when he returned it. “Say your goodbyes. It’s what he would want.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

London – Two years earlier

Parker’s gasp came out as a whimper, her breath catching. Moaning low in her throat, she clenched her fists on the headboard, the muscles in her neck and abdomen becoming taut as she raised her hips. Shifting slightly on her haunches, Madeline clasped Parker’s writhing hips, feeling the flesh tremble as she came.

“Oh, god.”

Madeline sat back, stroking Parker’s thighs, letting her fingers stray to the still-sensitive flesh between them. Parker shuddered at each touch, breathing deeply, her body slowly relaxing from its high.

Loosening her grip on the headboard, Parker brought her hands forward, making contact with Madeline’s thighs as she sat up. Her hands shook slightly as they slid upwards, the remnants of her orgasm, and her nervousness, showing through. With her legs curved around Madeline, she moved forwards, hands stroking the skin along Madeline’s stomach and hips.

“It’s strange,” Parker said, her voice hoarse. Her hands roamed further upwards, coming up beneath Madeline’s breasts. They hovered for a moment, tickling at her nipples and Madeline shivered, clenching a fist among the sheets. Parker had her already, and she’d barely begun. “I’d never considered…”

Bringing her own hand up, Madeline lifted Parker’s chin, needing to see her eyes. Her eyes shone; fear, awe and passion rivalling for dominance. She was terrified, a feeling that Madeline understood all too well. Unclenching her fist, Madeline touched Parker’s face.. “We can end this here,” she said softly, and on some level, she hoped Parker would say yes.

But, the other woman dropped her hands, her nails trailing gently along Madeline’s skin, sending shots of fire through her. Then, Parker uncurled her legs, pushing her back against the bedclothes.

When her hands returned again, there was less shaking, more determination. Madeline felt the change, as much as saw it in her eyes. Each touch deepened in intensity, fervently exploring each curve, each section of skin.

Madeline’s body throbbed in response, skin heating as Parker’s mouth left wet trails along her abdomen. She fought the desire to squirm beneath her, steadying herself with hands clenched on the covers. But as Parker’s exploration delved lower, Madeline’s control slipped – a moan escaping softly, her hips arching upwards.

Her body quivered, eyes closed as Parker’s attention became more focussed. All control lost, she moaned again, this one accompanied by a cry of pleasure.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lewes, Delaware

The sun hung heavy on the horizon, piercing the clouds and burning off the morning fog.

Balancing her cane on a cross-beam, Madeline leaned against the wooden railing, taking weight off her injured thigh. It throbbed in response, the dull pain that had accompanied her movements in the last ten days intensifying momentarily before fading.

Down by the water, a lone figure dallied barefoot by the tide line, pants rolled up to avoid the incoming waves. Her long dark hair hung loose to her shoulders, a light breeze blowing it back from her face. As she caught sight of Madeline, she smiled, turning up the beach towards her.

She climbed the stairs in silence, coming to stand next to Madeline. They were silent for several moments before Parker finally spoke. “We’re back to this again?”

Madeline turned towards her, chuckling. “Some things never change, I suppose.”

“I didn’t bring any scotch.” Parker smiled, placing a hand over Madeline’s on the railing. Despite the chill in the air, her hand was warm. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“There’s no need.”

“But there is.” Parker paused, the silence between them awkward. “You’re in trouble at home.”

Madeline grinned; it sounded so simple, when said like that. “It will blow over. Raines needed a scapegoat. I was convenient.”

“I’m sorry.” Her hand tightened over Madeline’s, nails catching the inside of her palm.

Madeline closed her eyes, a shiver running up her arm. “Don’t be.” She shook her head, attempting to clear her mind. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

“I don’t want to know, do I?”

“No.”

They faded into silence again, the gurgle of the waves on the shore the only sound.

“If you ever need anything,” Madeline began, keeping her gaze fixed on the shoreline.

Parker’s grip tightened on her hand, their fingers entwining. “Jarod knows how to contact me.”

“Once he’s well enough, we’ll move on. He’s worried, being so close to The Centre.”

Something in Parker’s voice made Madeline turn towards her. She stood with her eyes closed, face tilted slightly into the breeze, her lashes were moist. “I didn’t think this would be so difficult,”

But it is, Madeline thought to herself. “Two years ago we ran away – this time, we’re saying goodbye.” And this time, you’re free…

Parker turned then as well, meeting her gaze. “I guess we are. We don’t have to.”

Swallowing the lump welling up in her throat, Madeline reached up, kissing Parker gently on the lips. “Goodbye, Parker.”

Parker closed her eyes, not opening them even after Madeline pulled away. “Goodbye.”

End