Fic (The Pretender/DEBS): Bad Girls Go Everywhere (crossover, Jarod/ Miss P)
Happy Birthday bantha_fodder!
I wrote you The Pretender/ DEBS fic! And Miss Parker is a DEB! No, I can't believe it hasn't been done before either!
Bad Girls Go Everywhere
The Pretender/ DEBS (crossover, Jarod/ Miss P)
Author’s Notes: Miss Parker spends her college years at the DEBS Academy. Time lines have been manipulated to accomplish this. Also, it’s Jarod/ Miss Parker, which seems a waste of a good femslash setting but what can we do? It’s our OTP. If it helps at all, try to picture a Miss Parker/ Max tryst somewhere before this story is set.
When Miss Parker became a DEB, all the other girls whispered behind her back, saying she wasn’t disciplined or energetic enough to be a DEB, and she could barely lift a gun let alone point and shoot, so strength wasn’t one of her qualities either. She was pretty enough, that much was true, but everyone knew the B in DEBS was only there because DEBS looked good on the letterhead and what kind of quality was beauty anyway if it didn’t come with brains and skill? If asked, they would have said Miss Parker didn’t have what it took to be a DEB and it was only because of her father’s connection to Miss Petrie that the Academy made a place for her at all.
One year later and no one said that about her anymore. She was a master of weapons by her second year, top of her class in hand to hand combat by her third, and by her fourth she's a member of the Academy's top squad, the elite DEBS.
If she falls down in any area, it's leadership skills, which is why Max is the leader of their squad and not Miss Parker, even though she was voted "Most Lethal" two years running and the juniors (and one or two seniors) have taken to calling her “Sir” when addressed. Miss Parker isn’t bothered by rank or titles, and she’s always considered her lack of interpersonal skills a plus rather than a minus. What with the clueless Janet and the perfectly proper Amy on their team, Miss Parker doesn't envy Max’s position as team mediator.
And besides, it gives her a certain freedom.
"Did you lock Janet in the bathroom last night?" Max asks her. They’re on their way to the daily breakfast meeting and Janet is in the back of the car, sulking.
Miss Parker lights her first cigarette of the day. "She's very annoying."
"Parker!" Max says.
Miss Parker blows smoke away from Max. They all hate how she smokes but only Max is brave enough to tell her. Max has compromised by allowing her to smoke in the car when the top is down. In the rear view mirror she can see Amy shaking her head disapprovingly.
What does she care? She's here to catch bad guys. Not make friends.
*
Mr Phipps sent word that he’d be late this morning so they order breakfast and hypothesize on what's taking him so long. There's talk of a new mission, a special request from an organisation more secretive then theirs. There's a buzz about the cafe already.
Miss Parker orders coffee. She hates breakfast meetings. No one should have to exchange pleasantries before 9 am.
"You should have something to eat," Amy tells her, as she spoons a forkful of something that looks like crumbed rubber into her mouth. "You know, Bobby says --"
"Your boyfriend is an idiot," Miss Parker says. Amy goes quiet. Max gives Miss Parker a look. "It's not like it's a secret," Miss Parker says. Max rolls her eyes.
"I think Bobby is nice," Janet says.
Miss Parker raises her eyebrows and Max holds up a finger. "Not a word," Max says.
Mercifully, Mr Phipps arrives and prevents Miss Parker from pointing out that Janet's thinks nice is remembering to say "please" before, "stop, or I'll shoot."
"I have a special mission for you, DEBS," Mr Phipps says, taking his usual place at the centre of the table. He presses the holo-screen remote control and a familiar face appears in 3-D before them.
Jarod, Miss Parker thinks. She should have known it was Jarod. It’s only Monday after all and she’s positive Mondays are out to get her.
"The Centre has asked our assistance in apprehending this man," Mr Phipps says.
"We're going after Jarod?" Max says. There's an excited edge to her tone. Going after Jarod is a big deal. He’s on every wanted list from the Mossad to the Kremlin to MI-6.
"Who's Jarod?" Janet says. "Also, who’s the Centre?"
"I believe Miss Parker can explain," Mr Phipps says.
"The Centre is a private research facility," Miss Parker recites. "They conduct experiments for the government, the military and the NSA." And anyone else who'll pay, but why confuse the issue? "Jarod is an asset. A pretender who can become anyone he wants to be."
"He claims the Centre kept him prisoner," Amy says. She looks at Miss Parker nervously. Miss Parker scowls. "At least that's what I've heard."
"A genius such as Jarod must be protected," Mr Phipps says. "Just as the world must be protected from him. He's infiltrated the CIA, Homeland Security and even the DEBS. He must be stopped."
"DEBS?" Miss Parkers says.
"Briefly," Mr Phipps says. "He caused minimal disruption but he did steal a file."
"Let me guess," Miss Parker says. "It was mine."
"Why would he steal Parker's file?" Max says.
"Perhaps you could explain your relationship with Jarod, Parker?" Mr Phipps says.
The DEBS know about the Centre - well, except for Janet of course but Janet doesn't know it's Tuesday. What the DEBS don't know is that the Centre was her home, as well as the family business. "Jarod was raised in the Centre," Miss Parker says. "As was I."
"Oh my god," Janet says. "So Sir - I mean, Parker is like Jarod’s sister?"
Sure, Miss Parker thinks. When Jarod wasn't running simulations and her mother wasn't being shot, they were just like the Brady Bunch. "Right," she says, forcing a smile.
"So Jarod is coming for Parker?" Max says.
"We don't know what Jarod's plan is," Mr Phipps says. "We need you to find out."
Max gives Miss Parker a worried look. Amy touches her arm sympathetically and Janet just looks terrified. Miss Parker sips her coffee. She's not worried about Jarod. When Jarod wasn't devising a plot to overthrow Saddam Hussein he was talking about puppies and bunnies. He's probably coming after her because he needs a hug.
But why the Centre has suddenly chosen to involve the DEBS in the hunt for Jarod is another matter. Aside from having his own security team, not to mention a legion of sweepers, her father has insisted on ownership of the Jarod matter, despite interest from the NSA and the FBI.
"Jarod is ours, Angel," he told her. "We clean up our own messes at the Centre."
She'd call her father and ask him about it, but he's difficult to catch. She calls his assistant anyway and leaves a message.
As an afterthought, she calls Jarod's former handler. He's not privy to her father's motives or any of the Centre's classified operations but he knows Jarod better than anyone and despite being generally unhelpful when it comes to Jarod's apprehension she thinks Sydney will talk to her. Even if it's just out of deference to her mother (they say she looks just like her).
"He's become suddenly very interested in you," Sydney tells her. "He also broke into your father's house and stole some photo albums. Perhaps he's feeling lonely? You're the closest thing he has to a friend after all."
"That was ten years ago," she says. And a whole life time in between.
"Jarod has a very vivid memory."
Jarod is a freak. DEBS hunt dangerous criminals, not freaks. "How do I find him?"
"You know Jarod, Miss Parker," Sydney says. "He never could stomach injustice."
Sydney’s right. And Miss Parkers knows where to start looking. She sends Janet to do some research and it turns out the little nerd is good for something after all because she comes up with four likely scenarios. Not that it’s hard to figure out where he might have gone once they've narrowed the field. She calls the rest of the squad together for a briefing and explains Jarod’s particular MO, bringing up a series of newspaper articles on the holo-screen.
"Jarod likes to help the little guy," Miss Parker says. The screen shows an article about a hospital running an adoption scam, a victim of a hit and run, a children's home with missing funds, and a Chinese family driven out of their home."He likes to right wrongs, bring justice to the unjust."
"Sounds kind of noble," Amy says.
Miss Parker shows another newspaper clipping of a former con-man who claims a man called Jarod tortured him for his confession. The case was thrown out of court. "He's a vigilante and he's out of control." She shows the newspaper articles onscreen again. "These are his most likely targets."
"They're all close by," Max says, studying the screen. "What makes you think Jarod is still in vicinity?"
Because Sydney said so and her father is acting mysteriously and because it's just not her week. "Instinct," she says.
"Really?" Max says, arching an eyebrow.
"Yes," Miss Parker says, arching an eyebrow right back.
"Fine," Max says. She gestures at the screen. "So which of these scenarios is most likely to appeal to Jarod?"
Miss Parker has already given this some thought. "The adoption scam," she says. "Or the Chinese family but I'd go with the adoption scam first." Jarod can't bear broken families.
"Okay," Max says. "Janet and I will take the Chinese family; you and Amy take the adoption scam. We'll send a team of DEBS to watch the other hard luck stories."
*
Miss Parker doesn’t like stake-outs. The inaction drives her crazy, and it’s not like she can smoke with the top down and Miss Healthy Lifestyle in the car. She contemplates stepping outside for a cigarette but then Amy launches into a lecture on the detrimental health effects of smoking including lung cancer, stomach ulcers and toe fungus. Actually, Mss Parker is pretty sure Amy made that last one up.
They’re parked across the street from the children’s hospital that is accused of running an adoption scam. Before the anti-smoking lecture Amy was telling Miss Parker all she’d ever need to know about the dangers of genetically modified soy products. If Jarod doesn’t show up soon, Miss Parker is going into the hospital to volunteer for a lobotomy.
“So you grew up in a research facility?” Amy says, suddenly changing the subject.
Miss Parker doesn’t like to talk about her past and the DEBS usually know not to ask. Amy has the perfect score so perhaps she thinks she’s invulnerable? Miss Parker thinks she ought to test that theory.
“Yes,” she says bluntly, hoping Amy will hear the unspoken, and I don’t want to talk about it.
“That must have been hard for you,” Amy says.
She turns and glares at Amy. How anyone so oblivious could get the perfect score in anything is beyond Miss Parker. The secret test in the SATS clearly doesn’t measure self preservation.
“It’s really none of your business,” she says.
“Okay,” Amy says, holding up her hands in a surrender. She chews her lip for a moment and then says, “So is it true the Centre trained Jarod to be an assassin?”
Miss Parker frowns. Amy, despite being neat, trim and practically perfect in every way, is usually not inclined to indulge in Academy gossip, especially when it’s so outrageous. “Did Bobby tell you that?”
Amy looks sheepish. “Yes.”
“Bobby is -“
“Yes,” Amy says, cutting Miss Parker off. “He’s an idiot. I get it. You know he’s really nice when you get to know him.”
“Nice,” Miss Parker says.
“Okay, so he’s not exciting and dangerous and he doesn’t make your knees shake when he kisses you...”
“He doesn’t?”
Amy looks worried. “Is he supposed to?”
Miss Parker glances out the window toward the hospital entrance and hopes to god Jarod or someone (anyone) shows up soon. She shakes her head. “It’s none of my business.”
“Whatever,” Amy says, shrugging. “It’s not like Bobby and I are going to get married or anything.” She stares at a spot ahead, seems to be following something (or someone) with her eyes.
Miss Parker follows Amy’s gaze and sees a tall dark-haired girl with low slung jeans and a black tank top stroll by. She smiles easily when she catches Amy staring, like she knows she draws attention and it doesn’t bother her at all.
“You were saying?” Miss Parker says.
“What was I saying?” Amy says, looking confused.
Miss Parker smiles to herself. Amy and Bobby are definitely not getting married. At this rate he’ll be lucky if he’s still around at Endgame.
*
“Wait,” Amy says. “Isn’t that him?”
A figure opens the hospital doors and goes inside. It looks like Jarod - at least, it’s close enough and Miss Parker would rather chase a reasonable facsimile than sit in the car any longer listening to Amy waffle on about the dangers of dairy.
Miss Parker gets out of the car and runs inside, two steps ahead of Amy who is saying, “Wait,” and “Don’t you think we should call for back-up?” and “How do you run in those heels?” behind her.
Inside, Miss Parker can’t see anything but shadows. She catches a movement out of the corner of her eye, turns, and sees a dark figure disappear around a corner. She fallows the sound of footsteps down a staircase and then another and then there’s low light in the corridors and a sign saying, “Morgue.”
“Jarod?” she calls into the darkness. When no one answers, she says, “Amy?” What the hell happened to Amy?
She turns a corner and the next corridor is even darker than the previous one. She strains to see, thinks she hears a sound to her left and turns instinctively, only to feel a hand on her throat, coming from her right. She gets pulled into a nearby room, thrown up against the wall, and an arm pressed against her chest, from the elbow to the wrist. The lights come on.
"Miss Parker," Jarod says, grinning. He grabs her gun-hand by the wrist and pins it to the wall. "Love the outfit."
“It’s my uniform,” she says, trying to wriggle out from under his grasp. “I’m a DEB, not a fashion model.”
“Really?” Jarod says, prising the gun from her hand. “I’ve heard it’s hard to tell the difference.”
Jarod’s forearm is muscular and tanned and hard against her chest. She can barely breathe. She wonders when he got so buff. The last she saw of him he was thin, pale and weedy, but then it wasn’t like the Centre let him work out on the beach.
“What do you want?” she says.
“I’d like your father to stop chasing me,” Jarod says.
“And you think ambushing his daughter is the best way to make your point?”
“No,” Jarod says. “But kidnapping her should get his attention.”
“You’re kidnapping me?” She looks at the ceiling. Turns out, Tuesday is out to get her as well.
“Actually,” Jarod says. “I was just hoping we could talk.”
Oh great, Miss Parker thinks. Jarod’s in need of emotional support. Why does this not surprise her? “If you need to talk,” she says. “I know an excellent therapist.” She knows a therapist who lasted more than one session with her. In Miss Parker’s book, that’s a Nobel Prize effort.
“I had a personal therapist for 12 years, Miss Parker,” he says. “I just needed - I wanted to see how you were doing.”
That, at least, is unexpected. And she can’t help feeling a little touched. On the few occasions when she manages to get hold of her father, he only ever says, “How are you?” as an afterthought and usually as he’s hanging up and not expecting a reply.
It’s ridiculous. How is it that Jarod holds her against the wall and makes her feel more affected than her first boyfriend who dumped her in front of her entire squad and at least 20 other DEBS who just happened to be in the car park at the time? Admittedly, he was practically hysterical when he cut her loose and if there was anyone creating a spectacle it was him, but she should have felt something. For a while, she thought she might be missing a soul.
“I’m fine,” she says, trying not to give anything away. “When I’m not being kidnapped by crazed geniuses that is.”
“You don’t look fine,” Jarod says.
“What?”
“The uniform,” he says. “It doesn’t suit you.”
“I’ll be sure to inform my stylist,” Miss Parker says. She sighs and wishes he’d let her have a cigarette. Jarod is annoying and his elbow against her chest is uncomfortable. She shifts a little so the weight against her chest is distributed more evenly. Jarod seems to notice and he relaxes his arm a little.
“You’re not supposed to be a DEB, Miss Parker,” Jarod says. “Discipline, respect for authority, esprit de corps - it’s not you.”
“And how would you know?”
“You think I don’t know you? We grew up together. Those were formative years, Miss Parker. Some people say that personality is fully formed by the time a child is ten.” He smiles a little. “And I read your file.”
She’d forgotten about that. Anyone who read her file would know she doesn’t toe the DEBS line. She’s been reprimanded for smoking in the Academy bathrooms, cutting classes, having boys (and one or two girls) in her room, and then there was the time she wrote her political science paper on the Kennedy assassination. In all honesty, two thousand words on Oswald’s rifle was probably a little off topic.
“I’m good at this,” she says. She doesn’t know why she’s defending herself to Jarod. Maybe it’s just a knee jerk reaction? It’s not like she hasn’t had this conversation with herself often enough.
“You like guns and martial arts,” Jarod says. “That doesn’t make you a DEB.”
“I found you, didn’t I?”
“I let you find me,” Jarod says. “I’m a pretender, remember? I know how you think.”
In the back of her mind she knew Jarod’s appearance at the hospital was just a little too lucky, but she was too caught up in the thrill of capture to give it a second thought. And then there was the incident with her file and her family home. It was all a set-up.
“You knew my father would send me,” she says. “He’s using me as bait.”
“If it’s any consolation, Miss Parker,” he says. “This is the closest your father has ever come. Maybe he should hire you permanently?”
“I hate you,” she says, feeling petulant.
“You don’t mean that,” he says.
“Parker!” someone calls from outside. It sounds like Max. “Parker!” Definitely Max. Amy must have called for backup.
“Time to go,” Jarod says. And then he kisses her. And for someone who spent twelve years of his life deprived of social interaction with his peers, he’s surprisingly good at it. He smells good too, feels even better pressed up against her all hard and lean, his hand on her waist and his thumb edging under the hem of her blouse until he finds skin. What can she do? She takes his face in her hands, and kisses him back, kisses him like she’s going to die tomorrow and she needs to get laid now.
“What the fuck...?” Miss Parker hears Max say, and then Jarod let’s go and Miss Parker slumps back against the wall, nearly loses her footing. She looks up and sees Jarod disappearing out of the room so fast, she’d swear he could fly.
Max goes after him, as best she can, but even she’s surprised by how quickly Jarod got out of there and she’s moving in slow motion by comparison. Miss Parker is left leaning against the wall, catching her breath and wondering if she just had an out-of-body experience. Janet and Amy are staring at her and Janet’s mouth is open so wide, she looks like she’s about to sing “Queen of the Night.”
“What are you looking at?” Miss Parker says. And she straightens the front of her shirt, and pushes her hair off her face.
*
Max didn’t catch Jarod. He moved too fast, like he had that exit planned all along. Max blames Miss Parker but so does Mr Phipps, so Miss Parker isn’t about to protest.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kick your ass out of this Academy?” Mr Phipps says. “And your family connections are not good reasons.”
“You don’t need a reason,” Miss Parker says. “I quit.” Jarod was right. The uniform doesn’t suit her.
Daddy says he has a place for her in the London office and she’s always wanted to go to Europe so it’s probably time for a change.
She’s almost packed her room, when the squad comes to say goodbye. There’s an exchange student from the French Academy waiting to take Miss Parker’s room and Miss Parker is more than ready to hand it over. The French girl has already seen it, pronounced it “boring,” and gone outside for a cigarette. Miss Parker thinks she’ll fit in just fine.
“I’ll miss you!” Amy says, and she envelopes Miss Parker in a tight hug, holding on for just a second longer than is appropriate.
“Is it true that Jarod is your half brother?”Janet says, when Amy has let go. Miss Parker gives her a look. Max digs an elbow into her ribs. “I’m sorry!” Janet says. “It’s just that there are rumours...”
“Don’t believe everything you hear,” Miss Parker says. “Especially if it comes out of your mouth.”
Max shakes her hand. “I’m sorry to see you go,” she says. “You were a good DEB.”
“No, I wasn’t,” Miss Parker says. “I was just good at pretending.”
She hoists her bag over her shoulder and walks past them toward the stairs, not looking back. One day, she’s going to catch Jarod and make him for pay for that kiss. Or she’s going to make him do it again. She hasn’t decided.
End(game).
I wrote you The Pretender/ DEBS fic! And Miss Parker is a DEB! No, I can't believe it hasn't been done before either!
Bad Girls Go Everywhere
The Pretender/ DEBS (crossover, Jarod/ Miss P)
Author’s Notes: Miss Parker spends her college years at the DEBS Academy. Time lines have been manipulated to accomplish this. Also, it’s Jarod/ Miss Parker, which seems a waste of a good femslash setting but what can we do? It’s our OTP. If it helps at all, try to picture a Miss Parker/ Max tryst somewhere before this story is set.
When Miss Parker became a DEB, all the other girls whispered behind her back, saying she wasn’t disciplined or energetic enough to be a DEB, and she could barely lift a gun let alone point and shoot, so strength wasn’t one of her qualities either. She was pretty enough, that much was true, but everyone knew the B in DEBS was only there because DEBS looked good on the letterhead and what kind of quality was beauty anyway if it didn’t come with brains and skill? If asked, they would have said Miss Parker didn’t have what it took to be a DEB and it was only because of her father’s connection to Miss Petrie that the Academy made a place for her at all.
One year later and no one said that about her anymore. She was a master of weapons by her second year, top of her class in hand to hand combat by her third, and by her fourth she's a member of the Academy's top squad, the elite DEBS.
If she falls down in any area, it's leadership skills, which is why Max is the leader of their squad and not Miss Parker, even though she was voted "Most Lethal" two years running and the juniors (and one or two seniors) have taken to calling her “Sir” when addressed. Miss Parker isn’t bothered by rank or titles, and she’s always considered her lack of interpersonal skills a plus rather than a minus. What with the clueless Janet and the perfectly proper Amy on their team, Miss Parker doesn't envy Max’s position as team mediator.
And besides, it gives her a certain freedom.
"Did you lock Janet in the bathroom last night?" Max asks her. They’re on their way to the daily breakfast meeting and Janet is in the back of the car, sulking.
Miss Parker lights her first cigarette of the day. "She's very annoying."
"Parker!" Max says.
Miss Parker blows smoke away from Max. They all hate how she smokes but only Max is brave enough to tell her. Max has compromised by allowing her to smoke in the car when the top is down. In the rear view mirror she can see Amy shaking her head disapprovingly.
What does she care? She's here to catch bad guys. Not make friends.
*
Mr Phipps sent word that he’d be late this morning so they order breakfast and hypothesize on what's taking him so long. There's talk of a new mission, a special request from an organisation more secretive then theirs. There's a buzz about the cafe already.
Miss Parker orders coffee. She hates breakfast meetings. No one should have to exchange pleasantries before 9 am.
"You should have something to eat," Amy tells her, as she spoons a forkful of something that looks like crumbed rubber into her mouth. "You know, Bobby says --"
"Your boyfriend is an idiot," Miss Parker says. Amy goes quiet. Max gives Miss Parker a look. "It's not like it's a secret," Miss Parker says. Max rolls her eyes.
"I think Bobby is nice," Janet says.
Miss Parker raises her eyebrows and Max holds up a finger. "Not a word," Max says.
Mercifully, Mr Phipps arrives and prevents Miss Parker from pointing out that Janet's thinks nice is remembering to say "please" before, "stop, or I'll shoot."
"I have a special mission for you, DEBS," Mr Phipps says, taking his usual place at the centre of the table. He presses the holo-screen remote control and a familiar face appears in 3-D before them.
Jarod, Miss Parker thinks. She should have known it was Jarod. It’s only Monday after all and she’s positive Mondays are out to get her.
"The Centre has asked our assistance in apprehending this man," Mr Phipps says.
"We're going after Jarod?" Max says. There's an excited edge to her tone. Going after Jarod is a big deal. He’s on every wanted list from the Mossad to the Kremlin to MI-6.
"Who's Jarod?" Janet says. "Also, who’s the Centre?"
"I believe Miss Parker can explain," Mr Phipps says.
"The Centre is a private research facility," Miss Parker recites. "They conduct experiments for the government, the military and the NSA." And anyone else who'll pay, but why confuse the issue? "Jarod is an asset. A pretender who can become anyone he wants to be."
"He claims the Centre kept him prisoner," Amy says. She looks at Miss Parker nervously. Miss Parker scowls. "At least that's what I've heard."
"A genius such as Jarod must be protected," Mr Phipps says. "Just as the world must be protected from him. He's infiltrated the CIA, Homeland Security and even the DEBS. He must be stopped."
"DEBS?" Miss Parkers says.
"Briefly," Mr Phipps says. "He caused minimal disruption but he did steal a file."
"Let me guess," Miss Parker says. "It was mine."
"Why would he steal Parker's file?" Max says.
"Perhaps you could explain your relationship with Jarod, Parker?" Mr Phipps says.
The DEBS know about the Centre - well, except for Janet of course but Janet doesn't know it's Tuesday. What the DEBS don't know is that the Centre was her home, as well as the family business. "Jarod was raised in the Centre," Miss Parker says. "As was I."
"Oh my god," Janet says. "So Sir - I mean, Parker is like Jarod’s sister?"
Sure, Miss Parker thinks. When Jarod wasn't running simulations and her mother wasn't being shot, they were just like the Brady Bunch. "Right," she says, forcing a smile.
"So Jarod is coming for Parker?" Max says.
"We don't know what Jarod's plan is," Mr Phipps says. "We need you to find out."
Max gives Miss Parker a worried look. Amy touches her arm sympathetically and Janet just looks terrified. Miss Parker sips her coffee. She's not worried about Jarod. When Jarod wasn't devising a plot to overthrow Saddam Hussein he was talking about puppies and bunnies. He's probably coming after her because he needs a hug.
But why the Centre has suddenly chosen to involve the DEBS in the hunt for Jarod is another matter. Aside from having his own security team, not to mention a legion of sweepers, her father has insisted on ownership of the Jarod matter, despite interest from the NSA and the FBI.
"Jarod is ours, Angel," he told her. "We clean up our own messes at the Centre."
She'd call her father and ask him about it, but he's difficult to catch. She calls his assistant anyway and leaves a message.
As an afterthought, she calls Jarod's former handler. He's not privy to her father's motives or any of the Centre's classified operations but he knows Jarod better than anyone and despite being generally unhelpful when it comes to Jarod's apprehension she thinks Sydney will talk to her. Even if it's just out of deference to her mother (they say she looks just like her).
"He's become suddenly very interested in you," Sydney tells her. "He also broke into your father's house and stole some photo albums. Perhaps he's feeling lonely? You're the closest thing he has to a friend after all."
"That was ten years ago," she says. And a whole life time in between.
"Jarod has a very vivid memory."
Jarod is a freak. DEBS hunt dangerous criminals, not freaks. "How do I find him?"
"You know Jarod, Miss Parker," Sydney says. "He never could stomach injustice."
Sydney’s right. And Miss Parkers knows where to start looking. She sends Janet to do some research and it turns out the little nerd is good for something after all because she comes up with four likely scenarios. Not that it’s hard to figure out where he might have gone once they've narrowed the field. She calls the rest of the squad together for a briefing and explains Jarod’s particular MO, bringing up a series of newspaper articles on the holo-screen.
"Jarod likes to help the little guy," Miss Parker says. The screen shows an article about a hospital running an adoption scam, a victim of a hit and run, a children's home with missing funds, and a Chinese family driven out of their home."He likes to right wrongs, bring justice to the unjust."
"Sounds kind of noble," Amy says.
Miss Parker shows another newspaper clipping of a former con-man who claims a man called Jarod tortured him for his confession. The case was thrown out of court. "He's a vigilante and he's out of control." She shows the newspaper articles onscreen again. "These are his most likely targets."
"They're all close by," Max says, studying the screen. "What makes you think Jarod is still in vicinity?"
Because Sydney said so and her father is acting mysteriously and because it's just not her week. "Instinct," she says.
"Really?" Max says, arching an eyebrow.
"Yes," Miss Parker says, arching an eyebrow right back.
"Fine," Max says. She gestures at the screen. "So which of these scenarios is most likely to appeal to Jarod?"
Miss Parker has already given this some thought. "The adoption scam," she says. "Or the Chinese family but I'd go with the adoption scam first." Jarod can't bear broken families.
"Okay," Max says. "Janet and I will take the Chinese family; you and Amy take the adoption scam. We'll send a team of DEBS to watch the other hard luck stories."
*
Miss Parker doesn’t like stake-outs. The inaction drives her crazy, and it’s not like she can smoke with the top down and Miss Healthy Lifestyle in the car. She contemplates stepping outside for a cigarette but then Amy launches into a lecture on the detrimental health effects of smoking including lung cancer, stomach ulcers and toe fungus. Actually, Mss Parker is pretty sure Amy made that last one up.
They’re parked across the street from the children’s hospital that is accused of running an adoption scam. Before the anti-smoking lecture Amy was telling Miss Parker all she’d ever need to know about the dangers of genetically modified soy products. If Jarod doesn’t show up soon, Miss Parker is going into the hospital to volunteer for a lobotomy.
“So you grew up in a research facility?” Amy says, suddenly changing the subject.
Miss Parker doesn’t like to talk about her past and the DEBS usually know not to ask. Amy has the perfect score so perhaps she thinks she’s invulnerable? Miss Parker thinks she ought to test that theory.
“Yes,” she says bluntly, hoping Amy will hear the unspoken, and I don’t want to talk about it.
“That must have been hard for you,” Amy says.
She turns and glares at Amy. How anyone so oblivious could get the perfect score in anything is beyond Miss Parker. The secret test in the SATS clearly doesn’t measure self preservation.
“It’s really none of your business,” she says.
“Okay,” Amy says, holding up her hands in a surrender. She chews her lip for a moment and then says, “So is it true the Centre trained Jarod to be an assassin?”
Miss Parker frowns. Amy, despite being neat, trim and practically perfect in every way, is usually not inclined to indulge in Academy gossip, especially when it’s so outrageous. “Did Bobby tell you that?”
Amy looks sheepish. “Yes.”
“Bobby is -“
“Yes,” Amy says, cutting Miss Parker off. “He’s an idiot. I get it. You know he’s really nice when you get to know him.”
“Nice,” Miss Parker says.
“Okay, so he’s not exciting and dangerous and he doesn’t make your knees shake when he kisses you...”
“He doesn’t?”
Amy looks worried. “Is he supposed to?”
Miss Parker glances out the window toward the hospital entrance and hopes to god Jarod or someone (anyone) shows up soon. She shakes her head. “It’s none of my business.”
“Whatever,” Amy says, shrugging. “It’s not like Bobby and I are going to get married or anything.” She stares at a spot ahead, seems to be following something (or someone) with her eyes.
Miss Parker follows Amy’s gaze and sees a tall dark-haired girl with low slung jeans and a black tank top stroll by. She smiles easily when she catches Amy staring, like she knows she draws attention and it doesn’t bother her at all.
“You were saying?” Miss Parker says.
“What was I saying?” Amy says, looking confused.
Miss Parker smiles to herself. Amy and Bobby are definitely not getting married. At this rate he’ll be lucky if he’s still around at Endgame.
*
“Wait,” Amy says. “Isn’t that him?”
A figure opens the hospital doors and goes inside. It looks like Jarod - at least, it’s close enough and Miss Parker would rather chase a reasonable facsimile than sit in the car any longer listening to Amy waffle on about the dangers of dairy.
Miss Parker gets out of the car and runs inside, two steps ahead of Amy who is saying, “Wait,” and “Don’t you think we should call for back-up?” and “How do you run in those heels?” behind her.
Inside, Miss Parker can’t see anything but shadows. She catches a movement out of the corner of her eye, turns, and sees a dark figure disappear around a corner. She fallows the sound of footsteps down a staircase and then another and then there’s low light in the corridors and a sign saying, “Morgue.”
“Jarod?” she calls into the darkness. When no one answers, she says, “Amy?” What the hell happened to Amy?
She turns a corner and the next corridor is even darker than the previous one. She strains to see, thinks she hears a sound to her left and turns instinctively, only to feel a hand on her throat, coming from her right. She gets pulled into a nearby room, thrown up against the wall, and an arm pressed against her chest, from the elbow to the wrist. The lights come on.
"Miss Parker," Jarod says, grinning. He grabs her gun-hand by the wrist and pins it to the wall. "Love the outfit."
“It’s my uniform,” she says, trying to wriggle out from under his grasp. “I’m a DEB, not a fashion model.”
“Really?” Jarod says, prising the gun from her hand. “I’ve heard it’s hard to tell the difference.”
Jarod’s forearm is muscular and tanned and hard against her chest. She can barely breathe. She wonders when he got so buff. The last she saw of him he was thin, pale and weedy, but then it wasn’t like the Centre let him work out on the beach.
“What do you want?” she says.
“I’d like your father to stop chasing me,” Jarod says.
“And you think ambushing his daughter is the best way to make your point?”
“No,” Jarod says. “But kidnapping her should get his attention.”
“You’re kidnapping me?” She looks at the ceiling. Turns out, Tuesday is out to get her as well.
“Actually,” Jarod says. “I was just hoping we could talk.”
Oh great, Miss Parker thinks. Jarod’s in need of emotional support. Why does this not surprise her? “If you need to talk,” she says. “I know an excellent therapist.” She knows a therapist who lasted more than one session with her. In Miss Parker’s book, that’s a Nobel Prize effort.
“I had a personal therapist for 12 years, Miss Parker,” he says. “I just needed - I wanted to see how you were doing.”
That, at least, is unexpected. And she can’t help feeling a little touched. On the few occasions when she manages to get hold of her father, he only ever says, “How are you?” as an afterthought and usually as he’s hanging up and not expecting a reply.
It’s ridiculous. How is it that Jarod holds her against the wall and makes her feel more affected than her first boyfriend who dumped her in front of her entire squad and at least 20 other DEBS who just happened to be in the car park at the time? Admittedly, he was practically hysterical when he cut her loose and if there was anyone creating a spectacle it was him, but she should have felt something. For a while, she thought she might be missing a soul.
“I’m fine,” she says, trying not to give anything away. “When I’m not being kidnapped by crazed geniuses that is.”
“You don’t look fine,” Jarod says.
“What?”
“The uniform,” he says. “It doesn’t suit you.”
“I’ll be sure to inform my stylist,” Miss Parker says. She sighs and wishes he’d let her have a cigarette. Jarod is annoying and his elbow against her chest is uncomfortable. She shifts a little so the weight against her chest is distributed more evenly. Jarod seems to notice and he relaxes his arm a little.
“You’re not supposed to be a DEB, Miss Parker,” Jarod says. “Discipline, respect for authority, esprit de corps - it’s not you.”
“And how would you know?”
“You think I don’t know you? We grew up together. Those were formative years, Miss Parker. Some people say that personality is fully formed by the time a child is ten.” He smiles a little. “And I read your file.”
She’d forgotten about that. Anyone who read her file would know she doesn’t toe the DEBS line. She’s been reprimanded for smoking in the Academy bathrooms, cutting classes, having boys (and one or two girls) in her room, and then there was the time she wrote her political science paper on the Kennedy assassination. In all honesty, two thousand words on Oswald’s rifle was probably a little off topic.
“I’m good at this,” she says. She doesn’t know why she’s defending herself to Jarod. Maybe it’s just a knee jerk reaction? It’s not like she hasn’t had this conversation with herself often enough.
“You like guns and martial arts,” Jarod says. “That doesn’t make you a DEB.”
“I found you, didn’t I?”
“I let you find me,” Jarod says. “I’m a pretender, remember? I know how you think.”
In the back of her mind she knew Jarod’s appearance at the hospital was just a little too lucky, but she was too caught up in the thrill of capture to give it a second thought. And then there was the incident with her file and her family home. It was all a set-up.
“You knew my father would send me,” she says. “He’s using me as bait.”
“If it’s any consolation, Miss Parker,” he says. “This is the closest your father has ever come. Maybe he should hire you permanently?”
“I hate you,” she says, feeling petulant.
“You don’t mean that,” he says.
“Parker!” someone calls from outside. It sounds like Max. “Parker!” Definitely Max. Amy must have called for backup.
“Time to go,” Jarod says. And then he kisses her. And for someone who spent twelve years of his life deprived of social interaction with his peers, he’s surprisingly good at it. He smells good too, feels even better pressed up against her all hard and lean, his hand on her waist and his thumb edging under the hem of her blouse until he finds skin. What can she do? She takes his face in her hands, and kisses him back, kisses him like she’s going to die tomorrow and she needs to get laid now.
“What the fuck...?” Miss Parker hears Max say, and then Jarod let’s go and Miss Parker slumps back against the wall, nearly loses her footing. She looks up and sees Jarod disappearing out of the room so fast, she’d swear he could fly.
Max goes after him, as best she can, but even she’s surprised by how quickly Jarod got out of there and she’s moving in slow motion by comparison. Miss Parker is left leaning against the wall, catching her breath and wondering if she just had an out-of-body experience. Janet and Amy are staring at her and Janet’s mouth is open so wide, she looks like she’s about to sing “Queen of the Night.”
“What are you looking at?” Miss Parker says. And she straightens the front of her shirt, and pushes her hair off her face.
*
Max didn’t catch Jarod. He moved too fast, like he had that exit planned all along. Max blames Miss Parker but so does Mr Phipps, so Miss Parker isn’t about to protest.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kick your ass out of this Academy?” Mr Phipps says. “And your family connections are not good reasons.”
“You don’t need a reason,” Miss Parker says. “I quit.” Jarod was right. The uniform doesn’t suit her.
Daddy says he has a place for her in the London office and she’s always wanted to go to Europe so it’s probably time for a change.
She’s almost packed her room, when the squad comes to say goodbye. There’s an exchange student from the French Academy waiting to take Miss Parker’s room and Miss Parker is more than ready to hand it over. The French girl has already seen it, pronounced it “boring,” and gone outside for a cigarette. Miss Parker thinks she’ll fit in just fine.
“I’ll miss you!” Amy says, and she envelopes Miss Parker in a tight hug, holding on for just a second longer than is appropriate.
“Is it true that Jarod is your half brother?”Janet says, when Amy has let go. Miss Parker gives her a look. Max digs an elbow into her ribs. “I’m sorry!” Janet says. “It’s just that there are rumours...”
“Don’t believe everything you hear,” Miss Parker says. “Especially if it comes out of your mouth.”
Max shakes her hand. “I’m sorry to see you go,” she says. “You were a good DEB.”
“No, I wasn’t,” Miss Parker says. “I was just good at pretending.”
She hoists her bag over her shoulder and walks past them toward the stairs, not looking back. One day, she’s going to catch Jarod and make him for pay for that kiss. Or she’s going to make him do it again. She hasn’t decided.
End(game).