Rules of the Game

Here's part 2... see part 1 for disclaimer.


Pulling up in front of the motel, Parker couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, pa-leeze!" she rolled her eyes and muttered, "A hot tub in every room - could we BE any more tacky?" She wouldn't be caught dead anywhere near a hot tub... unless it was to drown someone in it. Well there's an idea, she mused. She couldn't recall the last time she'd had so much fun and found herself giggling. Yes, giggling... for the first time in recent memory.

Parking at the far end of the lot, she spotted Zoe's car in front of one of the room doors. Uh-uh, too easy, she thought as she slipped a simple gold band onto the ring finger of her left hand and plotted her strategy at the reception desk. The last thing she needed was to go barging into the wrong room, scaring the hell out of some pathetic middle manager and his bimbo secretary. She would make damn sure that when she went through that door, the right couple would be on the other side. So, back to the plan for the clerk at the reception desk, which she would have to refine depending on who was on duty... gender, age, and those little insights into personal circumstances that Parker had grown so adept at picking up.

She couldn't have gotten more lucky on that account and had to contain her smile as she entered the small motel office with the circa 1970s décor. It was manned by a lone woman, middle-aged, world-weary and, most importantly, not wearing a wedding band. Divorcee, Parker thought, perfect...

"Excuse me," she said in as meek a voice as she could muster.

"Yes," the woman replied dryly.

Parker fidgeted and looked around nervously then cleared her throat. "Um, oh God, this is so awkward," she stammered while pointedly twisting at the band she'd placed on her finger.

"Is there something I can help you with?" The woman's tone was somewhat softer.

"Y... yes, n...no, I don't know." Parker's eyes watered.

"What is it, dear?" The woman slid off her stool into a standing position.

"M... my husband," Parker choked out, "I th... think he might be here." She looked down at her feet. It ought to be against the law to have this much fun, she thought.

The woman behind the desk heaved a heavy sigh and muttered under her breath, "Always the same... no good bastards." She then motioned to Parker, "Come over here, honey."

Parker slowly stepped up to the counter and smiled shyly at the woman. Careful now, don't overplay your hand, she warned herself.

"I'm Sandy," the woman offered amiably, "What's your name, sweetie?"

"Laura," Parker answered with a tentative smile. She thought it a good name for an aggrieved wife, besides she had always sort of liked it.

"Well, Laura, what makes you think he's here?" the woman inquired in a confidential tone.

"I followed him, I mean, THEM," Parker replied bitterly as she, again, turned on the waterworks.

"Them," the woman repeated distractedly, nodding slowly as she stared off into the distance recalling a past grievance of her own.

"Will you help me... please?" Parker asked, pleading with her eyes.

* * * *

As she slowly, silently approached the door, her heart was pounding so hard in her chest that Parker feared it might be audible in the still afternoon air. Sandy had, indeed, given her Jarod and Zoe's location along with her blessing to...

*"Kick the damn door in for all I care. Happens all the time here - the management considers it a regular cost of doing business so they don't bother me about it. But it'll be a lot easier to get in with this and you wouldn't want to ruin those fabulous boots."*

"You're alright, Sandy," Parker mouthed as she soundlessly slipped the passkey into the lock. It turned with ease and, again, with little if any sound. It was as if she'd become superhuman. No, that wasn't it. She was just highly competent, more competent than they ever realized, any of them. But he'd known enn enough. She turned the knob, her heart rate slowing and confidence building with each passing second, and the door clicked open. She hesitated a moment, opening it just a fraction of an inch, and listened.

"Yeah, baby, that's it, that's it!" she heard a woman pant in a high-pitched, rather whiny tone. She wrinkled her nose and shook her head thinking there was no accounting for taste.

"W...wait a minute, did you hear something?" Parker smiled as she instantly recognized the deep male voice.

"No baby, it's nothing, just you and me here. Yeah, baby, that's it."

Sliding her hand along the upper doorframe, she was surprised to find that they had neglected to put the chain on. Ah... ah... ah... She shook her head. Such carelessness wasn't like him, then again, by the time they reached the room, all the blood had likely drained from that superior brain of his to pool in other areas. Turns out she wouldn't even have to scuff her fabulous boots. It also meant she could spring an even bigger surprise on the happy couple. Oh, joy!

Her smirk widened to a grin as she silently slipped into the room, closing the door gently behind her. Moving farther inside along a little hallway, past the bathroom, she reached up under the back of her jacket and slid her 9mm out from the waistband of her slacks. It felt wonderful in her hands; God, she loved that gun. She stopped just around the corner from where she anticipated the bed would be and effortlessly placed her hand on the wall exactly where she anticipated the light switch would be.

"Yeah, baby, that's it!" The woman's cries were becoming more urgent and she could hear Jarod's moans and grunts becoming more frenzied. Yup, she mused bobbing her head in the darkness as she leaned casually against the wall, they're well on their way... such a pity...

Parker winced at Zoe's piercing yelp and amusedly followed the frenzied movements on the bed before her. The half-hysterical woman scrambled off Jarod's lap, scurrying under the sheets as he, looking more disoriented than she had ever seen him, frantically scanned the room in an attempt to fathom what the hell was going on. All the while he desperately clutched the sheet to his waist.

"What the hell? Damn it, Parker!" He eventually shouted, looking positively homicidal. It really was too perfect.

"Hello, there, Jarod. Going to introduce me to your special friend?" she asked in an overly sweet tone as she waved her gun in the direction of the trembling woman clinging to him like a frightened child.

"How did you find me?" he seethed and Parker noticed that while he patted Zoe to reassure her, he also succeeded in somewhat loosening her hold on him.

Glancing confusedly from their assailant to her lover, Zoe asked in a shaky voice, "Y... you know her, Jarod? Who is she?"

"It's alright, Zoe. She won't hurt us." He said soothingly, issuing Parker a silent warning with his eyes.

"Who is she!" the woman demanded.

"Oh, just an old acquaintance who needs to have a few words with Jarod," Parker piped in, "alone." Bending down to pick up the woman's clothing, she tossed a few items on the bed and added, "Now, why don't you go into the bathroom and get dressed like a good girl so I can have a few words with loverboy here." Parker smiled devilishly at Jarod and had to bite her lip as he shot back the dirtiest look she'd ever seen in her life.

"NO! I'm not going anywhere!" Zoe challenged and, turning to Jarod, accused, "She's from the same place as those other two, the ones who kidnapped me, isn't she?"

"It's okay, Zoe, you'd better do what she asks."

"That's good advice, sweetie. I'd listen to him. Perhaps you haven't had much experience in this area, but it's usually a GOOD idea to carry out the wishes of the person holding the gun."

"NO!" Zoe repeated, or more accurately, screeched, causing Parker to shudder slightly and wonder how the hell he could possibly STAND the woman. Well, she mused, besides the tits.

"Jarod?" Parker intoned calmly, raising an eyebrow at him, a sly smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Never taking his eyes off the person holding a gun on them, he spoke quietly but firmly as he reached down to grab a blanket that lay folded at the bottom of the bed. "Zoe, I am asking you to please go into the bathroom and get dressed. When you come out, I'll explain everything to you, I promise." He handed the blanket to Zoe, who took the hint and wrapped it around her before sliding out of bed to begin gathering her clothing.

"But Ja..." she spun around and started to object.

"Please," he said firmly, holding up one hand to silence her but not, for a second, breaking eye contact with Parker.

Groaning in protest, the woman finished gathering her clothing, moved warily past the gun-wielding intruder and stomped angrily into the bathroom, slamming the door loudly behind her.

"Cute Jarod... nice tits," Parker quipped then shot him one of his trademark smirks and, for the first time in her life, believed him truly capable of murder.

"So," he began, his voice quivering - he was obviously struggling to control his anger - as he sat up straighter in bed, "you must be feeling particularly proud of yourself today."

"I am," she replied with a slight cock of her head and cheery smile, both of which were completely sincere.

"Well, where are they?"

"Who?"

"You know who: the sweeper team, Sydney, Broots. Or maybe you left those two behind because you knew they wouldn't have the stomach for this. Well, congratulations Miss Parker, you've got me and I'll go without a fight. You can take me back, but only if you agree to let Zoe go. This doesn't have anything to do with her. But if she's hurt in any way, or incarcerated in that place, so help me I'll..."

Shaking her head and casting her eyes heavenward, Parker interrupted, "Don't get your panties in a knot... wait a minute..." she snickered and glanced in the direction of his lower extremities. To her supreme delight, he blushed slightly and briefly looked away from her. "You're not wearing any. Oh well, never mind and calm down, loverboy, nobody's taking anybody anywhere."

Raising her gun more aggressively at him, Parker slowly moved around the bed to the side Jarod occupied. Eyeing the barrel cautiously, he asked in as calm a voice as he could muster, "So, what is this about?"

It suddenly came to him that she was, indeed, alone and that realization sent his mind reeling as he feverishly attempted to work out what it meant. He searched her eyes, hoping to find a clue there, but they were unreadable. All he could see was that familiar deep blue, a blue that evoked both harsh cold and fierce heat at the same time. Fear welled within him, a fear he'd never experienced in any of their previous encounters, but it was tinged with something else, something he didn't want to acknowledge, let alone identify, but it was there all the same... excitement.

She was standing right beside him, her gun practically in his face. "Now, let's not make any sudden movements, loverboy..." He really wished she'd stop calling him that. "We don't want to mess up this pretty wallpaper, do we?"

"No, we don't," he responded grimly, scowling and looking away. A wave of disgust washed over him as he anticipated her next move, an experience made all the more unpleasant by the fact that he wasn't entirely sure at whom it should be directed.

Gracefully, in one move, Parker was kneeling on the bed, facing him and straddling his outstretched legs. She pressed the barrel of her gun to his chest, right over his heart, and the cold metal sent a shiver through his entire body. He clutched at the edge of the sheet, where it rested at mid-navel and his eyes darted nervously about the room. He couldn't bear to look into her eyes for some reason. He was afraid, of what or whom, was a question he, again, refused to ponder.

"Look at me, Jarod," she said coolly then repeated more sternly, "Look at me."

He swallowed hard and looked into her eyes - those same, cold, hard, hot, fierce blue eyes - and, probably for the first time in his life, wished that he were dead. "Yes, Miss Parker?" he sneered at her, projecting the torrent of self-loathing that had been unleashed within him.

Smiling with dry amusement, she spoke in a low voice. "I'm not here on Centre business."

"I guess not," he retorted.

"I'm here because you've broken one of the rules of the game and a cardinal one at that."

"Game?" he repeated quizzically, "What game?"

"Rolling her eyes, she huffed, "THE game!" and pressed the gun more firmly into his flesh, causing his breath to hitch.

Jarod swallowed several times in an attempt to re-hydrate his uncomfortably dry mouth then asked unsteadily, "W... which rule is that, Miss Parker?"

"The one stipulating that, as long as you remain free, you may have all the fun you like, Jarod. Hell, you might as well... you're not a young man anymore; who knows how many miles you have left on that prostate? But, and pay attention, genius, here's the important part: you must always, and I mean ALWAYS, remember that in this little drama of ours, there is only ONE RECURRING female role."

Her tone was matter-of-fact, her expression placid, and neither betrayed even the slightest hint of emotion. Jarod now found himself wishing her dead as well. At that moment, and for the first time since he laid eyes on her some 30 years before, he hated her. He hated that she had perfectly executed this little ambush; he hated her quiet resolve; but mostly he hated how in control she was... so damned in control.

"Jarod! What the fuck is going on here!"

Parker rolled her eyes and sighed exaggeratedly then stole a backward glance to see that a thoroughly pissed-off Zoe had taken up her previous position at the foot of the bed - they'd traded places really - then looked back at Jarod, smiled and shrugged. She then climbed off him, stood, casually dropped her gun on the bed, and proceeded to straighten her clothing.

For a moment he just stared at it, his eyes wide with shock. He then snapped up the gun, removed the clip, and inspected it, after which he rattled off a series of expletives so colorful that Parker stood in awe.

"Jeez, Jarod, kiss your mother with that mouth?" she taunted, "Oh, sorry, I guess not. Well, cool it anyway, Romeo, there ARE ladies present."

"It's empty," he muttered, sounding defeated, lost.

Slapping her forehead, Parker exclaimed, "I KNEW there was something I forgot to do this morning!" then grinned triumphantly before bending to retrieve Jarod's boxers, which she tossed at him with a simple flick of her wrist.

"Jarod, you didn't answer me!" Zoe whined.

"Oh, you're still here, sweetie," Parker commented dismissively before addressing Jarod, "Get dressed so you can walk Zoe to her car."

"What... what makes you think I'm leaving?" Zoe did her best to sound confident but her voice betrayed the tears that threatened to spill at any moment.

"Well, my dear, here's the thing," Parker directed her attention fully to her, "I've got good news and I've got bad news."

"Parker, please don't..." Jarod broke in but she could hear the resignation in his voice.

"Shut up, Jarod, and put your underwear on." She continued, "I think it's always best to dispense with the bad news first, don't you?" Parker didn't get an answer but could see a single tear trail down Zoe's cheek.

"The bad news is that this..." she gestured at both Jarod and Zoe, "whatever THIS is or, to be more accurate, WAS, is over. The good news is that you may now return to the bosom of your loving family. You may resume your life without worrying about your own safety or theirs. I'm sure they must miss you terribly and that you miss them." Her tone was civil - almost gracious - making the impact of her words all the more lethal.

Zoe's bottom lip quivered and the tears now flowed openly. She looked to Jarod pleadingly. Reading his expression, she choked back a sob, turned and ran out of the room, leaving the door swinging open behind her.

"ZOE! WAIT!" Jarod called after her, leaping out of bed. At some point, he had managed to put on his boxers. Brushing past Parker, he hastily pulled on his jeans, nearly toppling over in the process.

"There's no need to break your neck, Jarod. She won't get very far without this." She reached into her pocket and produced an ignition wire from Zoe's car, waving it in front of him.

His only response was a poisonous glare as he grabbed the wire. He then turned away from her and headed toward the door, picking up his t-shirt along the way and yanking it violently over his head as he exited the room.

Parker was now alone. She took a deep breath and shrugged, reaching into her jacket pocket to retrieve one final item. She then stated aloud and with complete conviction,

"Had to be done, Jarod."

* * * *

Jarod found Zoe in the driver's seat of her car, sobbing uncontrollably and pounding angrily on the steering wheel. He gently opened the door and crouched down beside her.

"It... won't...start!" she hiccupped, crying so hard she could barely catch her breath.

"I know, it's going to be alright, I'll take care of it," he said in a calming voice then reached into the car, under the dashboard, to replace the wire.

"That fucking bitch! How can you... she's evil!" she reproached, furiously wiping away her tears then glaring at him.

"I... I've known her forever, since we were kids and... she isn't... really..."

"Don't you fucking DARE try defend her to me!" Zoe shrieked, shoving him away from her so violently that he fell backwards into a sitting position on the pavement.

Dazed, he didn't speak for a minute or two but then offered miserably, "I'm sorry... it's just that you... you don't understand."

"Don't understand! What's to understand? I saw the look on your face when she was on your lap, Jarod, and I saw the look on your face when she told me it was over. I don't need to see, or understand, anything else!" She folded her arms, the tears still streaming, and waited for a response.

He strove to produce one but none was forthcoming. How could he possibly explain to Zoe something he'd failed to make sense of himself, despite years of trying? Perhaps it was beyond rational comprehension, it couldn't be understood only felt, like instinct - base, raw instinct - an instinct he shared with only one other human being on the planet. He couldn't respond; all he could do was look away in shame.

"I thought so," she bit out, unfolding her arms to start the engine, "The bitch was right about one thing, though, it is time I went back to my life, my family. I've been away far too long."

"Are you sure you're okay to drive?" he asked, his voice full of concern and sadness as he continued to stare at the ground, "Maybe you should wait until you've calmed down a bit."

"Fine... I'm fine," she muttered and again wiped her tears. She took a deep breath then fastened her seat belt. "Have a nice life, Jarod!" she sneered before slamming the car door. He shook his head and slowly moved to stand. The door flew open once more and something came billowing out at him.

"If you're relying on HER to keep you warm, then you'd better hold on to this!"

He awkwardly caught the item and, looking down at it, realized it was his jacket. There was another slamming of the car door, the screech of tires as she quickly backed out of the parking space, and the roar of the engine as she sped away. Then all was quiet except for the slight rustling of leaves in the breeze and the sound of a lone bird singing somewhere off in the distance. Jarod was suddenly aware of the sun-heated blacktop under his bare feet.

Heaving a deep, shaky sigh, he looked around. Blinking in the brilliant light of mid-afternoon, he surveyed his immediate surroundings in an attempt to reorient to reality and reclaim some order from the chaos that had ensued. He sighed again and was about to turn to head back toward the room when something on the ground in front of him caught his eye, a tiny metallic object reflecting in the sunlight. He bent down, picked it up, and held it up in front of his eyes. He glowered, his jaw tight and ticking with anger.

"Parker," he growled in a low, measured tone. He sprang to his feet, spun around, and charged back toward the room.

TBC...