They were lying side by side in the boat again, almost an hour later, when
Miss Parker heard a faint roaring noise. She sat up, being careful not to knock
Jarod, who was dozing, and searched the horizon. There, far off, she could see
a boat, speeding towards them. Hurriedly she grabbed her waterproof bag,
drawing out her gun.

"Wake up, Jarod," she hissed, and he opened his eyes, blinking sleepily.

"What?" he mumbled, and she gave his leg a shove.

"Boat," she muttered. It was drawing closer, and she could see it was quite a
big one, a mini-cruiser, almost 100 feet long.

Jarod sat up, ignoring her gun, and they both watched as the yacht drew
closer and closer. Miss Parker searched it for signs that it was the one they
had been waiting for, and not some rich tourists.

It created waves as it approached, and they gripped the sides of their tin
skip to ride the sudden swells. It stopped, still a fair distance from them,
and a few moments later a small inflatable raft was lowered into the water,
bouncing over the waves towards them, several dark suited men visible.

"That's Centre all right," Parker said, standing up carefully and holding her
gun on Jarod. The raft pulled up beside them, Willie and Lyle sitting in it.
Willie immediately drew his gun on Jarod.

"You're three miles away from the meeting point," Lyle called, looking cool,
calm and collected in a light suit and sunglasses. Parker eyed him dangerously.

"We had a few problems," she said, "Get in the raft, Jarod."

Jarod said nothing, his face dark and ominous. Carefully he stepped from
the skip to the raft, sitting down. Lyle slapped some cuffs on his wrists, and
Jarod gave him a dark look. Lyle ignored it, holding a hand out to help Parker
onto the raft.

They abandoned the little tin skip, bouncing across the waves to the
enormous yacht. Miss Parker admired it as they drew closer, it was certainly a
beauty - it had to be worth three or four million at least. They cruised in
beside it and were raised up onto the deck, where Sam, Broots and Sydney were
waiting for them.

On deck, Miss Parker stood awkwardly next to a sullen Jarod. It seemed
like a hundred years since she had last seen Sydney or Broots - three months at
least, they hadn't made contact while she stayed in the St Louis, except brief
phone calls for information. She had worked so hard for the last few months to
save Jarod, had spent the last eighteen hours stuck alone with him, and was now
having problems relating to the role she was expected to step into - the
victorious huntress, finally delivering her prey.

"So, a night alone on a boat... whatever did you two do to keep yourselves
occupied?" Lyle asked mockingly, running his eyes over both of them.

Parker was sure hey made an interesting sight. Jarod was now tanned from
a morning in the harsh Australian sun, wearing only a pair of shorts, still
looking rough from his recent beating. Her tan was even deeper than Jarod's,
her long hair dried tangled around her face, only the skimpiest of bikinis on
and carrying a gun. She and Jarod shared a long, passive look.

"That... you'll never know, Lyle," Miss Parker said, and he brother frowned
angrily.

"Are you all right, Jarod?" Sydney asked, looking amused. Jarod raised his
cuffed hands, touched the cut on his neck briefly, shrugged and nodded.

"I've been better," he said grimly.

"Miss Parker, you should hear what's happened at Laredii Island!" Broots said
breathlessly. Parker held up her hand.

"Save it until I've had a meal, a shower and at least ten hours sleep, Broots,"
she growled, and looked at her brother, "I'm assuming this toy boat of yours can
provide all of the above?"

Lyle nodded, "Willie, take Jarod. This way, Parker."

He led her to a spacious room with a double bed, a sofa, a bar and it's
own private bathroom. Lyle even had some clothes waiting for her, and he smiled
with sardonic amusement as she gazed around the luxurious fittings with bliss.

"Need any help washing your back?" he asked, and Parker felt a wave of disgust.

"I'll be fine. Don't you have a Pretender to keep an eye on? I didn't go to
all this effort just so you can let him escape again," she said sweetly, and
Lyle's jaw tightened; he left the room without another word.

Miss Parker stood under the spray of the shower for half an hour, allowing
the water to wash away all the salt, fear and emotion of the last twenty-four
hours. Now that she was safe, she didn't really give a damn what had happened
on Laredii Island, but supposed she'd probably have to suffer a debriefing
later.

When she stepped out of the shower, she knew she looked at a different
woman in the mirror than the one she had looked at one month ago. Hell,
different from the one she had looked at one day ago. She had spent time alone
with Jarod, had a civilized conversation with him, slept beside him and even,
god forbid, kissed him.

She was forced to realise that she had to give away her basis for hating
him all this time. Jarod had been just a much a victim of that test seven years
ago as she had. His work, which he had believed to be for good, had been used
against him, against both of them. She knew that now, and if she were honest
with herself, known it for years. Seven years ago she had been distant enough
from Jarod to believe her father when he placed the blame on the Pretender. She
wasn't distant now.

Parker dressed, putting on the cool blue suit, pinning her hair up neatly,
applying a layer of makeup and donning some dark sunglasses. This time when she
found her way out onto the deck she looked cold and professional. Sydney joined
her there after a few moments later, leaning on the rail and watching some
dolphins chasing the yacht, leaping out of the water playfully.

"We're going to sail down to the Sunshine Coast and book into a hotel while the
necessary paperwork is arranged," Sydney said quietly.

"How are we getting him back to the States?" Miss Parker asked. She had focused
so long on getting off the island that she'd never really thought about what
would happen afterwards. Sydney grinned.

"Haven't you heard? Jarod is a dangerous criminal, and we are a private
security company hired by the United States government to track him down. We're
extraditing him," Syd said, and chuckled. Parker smiled slightly.

"He'll like that."

There was a short silence as they gazed at the horizon, before Sydney
spoke again, "He knows, doesn't he?"

"Yes," she said, "Not the whole story, but he knew it was me."

"There was a certain... softening, in his attitude towards you, a few months
after he escaped. After he gave you the flu and glued you to the floor, I
believe. I gathered that he must have figured it out," Syd said. Parker was
surprised at his insight.

"He sent me a bunny rabbit," she said, remembering that lonely Christmas when
the only two presents she had received were her father's rejection and the soft,
white bunny rabbit from Jarod.

"He's given you a lot over the years," Sydney murmured meaningfully, watching
her closely. She smiled, knowing that he was searching for some sign of how
hard she was going to try to keep Jarod from escaping.

"We've reached an understanding," Parker said, and Sydney smiled.

****

Jarod suffered the humiliation of Willie and Sam standing in the bathroom
with him while he showered, and put on the chinos and shirt laid out for him
without comment. He was escorted to a lounge area where Lyle was on the phone,
pushed down into a soft sofa and chained to the floor. Jarod examined the bolt
that his shackles and chains were hooked to with interest - trust the Centre to
own a luxury yacht with all the attributes of a medieval dungeon.

Broots was sitting in the corner, nervously working on a laptop and trying
not to look at Jarod. A moment later Sydney and Miss Parker entered the room,
sitting across from him. There was no sign of the warmth and friendship in Miss
Parker that he had seen on the boat; instead she looked as cool and
sophisticated as ever. As Lyle finished his call, a man in a crisp uniform
brought in a tray of cheese, crackers and fruit, and a bottle of chilled
champagne. Jarod eyed the food hungrily.

"Our father sends his congratulations," Lyle said, dropping into a seat
carelessly. Jarod leaned forward at the same time as Miss Parker to grab some
food, and their hands brushed. They both drew back quickly, something Lyle
didn't miss.

"He's well, I hope?" Parker said without emotion. They both picked up some food
and sat back.

"Of course. He's glad you got Jarod out safely."

Jarod gritted his teeth in fury, hating Mr Parker for what he was doing to
his daughter. He didn't say, 'Glad you got out safely,' or, 'Glad you and Jarod
got out safely,' he gave no sign that he even really cared for his daughter at
all. And by the way Miss Parker was frozen in place, the fruit raised halfway
to her mouth, she had felt her father's unintended slight.

"But now, I think, it's time for a celebration," Lyle said jovially, cracking
the bottle of champagne and pouring several glasses, "I'd offer you a glass
Jarod, but that would be rather rude considering it's your capture we're
celebrating."

Jarod ignored him, concentrating instead on filling his stomach. Miss
Parker accepted a glass, as did a grim Sydney. Lyle raised his glass in toast
and they drank silently.

Miss Parker ate only a little more before making her excuses, hurrying out
of the room with her head down. Jarod had almost eaten his full when Lyle
turned his attention back to him, a gleam in his eye.

"Come on Jarod, sleepy time. And don't think you can pull the same stunt twice
- it's a needle for you this time," Lyle said, referring to Jarod's short
incarceration in the Centre months ago.

"Lyle, is that really necessary?" Sydney protested.

"Of course. I don't want him waking up until we're safely at the hotel
tonight," Lyle said, jerking Jarod to his feet by his chains. Jarod smiled
sadly at the psychiatrist.

"It's okay, Sydney," he said reassuringly, before Lyle pushed him out of the
room.

Jarod was led to a luxurious stateroom, with many heavy-duty locks on the
door. The only windows we portholes - too small for Jarod to even think about
escaping from. There were cameras in every corner of the room, and a tray with
a needle waiting. A chain attached to his shackles was hooked to the floor,
allowing him to sit or lie fairly comfortably on the bed.

Jarod had already decided he wouldn't attempt to escape until he was back
on the mainland - it would be easier to disappear amongst people. In the
meantime, he would just have to sit tight and try not to get beaten up by Lyle
or any of the sweepers.

"So," Lyle said, jerking Jarod's sleeve up in preparation for the needle, "Did
you fuck her?"

Jarod glowered at the man, hating the sadistic look in Lyle's eye. How
could he be so perverted as to openly lust after his sister? "That's not a
question worth answering, you sick bastard," he ground out angrily. Lyle jabbed
the needle into his arm viciously.

"Oh, come now Jarod, it's just us guys... tell me - did you melt the ice?"

Jarod could feel the drug taking effect already, a wave of dizziness
passing over him as he lay back on the bed, smiling sardonically at Lyle.

"I'll always be a job to Miss Parker, Lyle, but that's a step up from being scum
on the bottom of her shoe like you are," Jarod slurred, and passed out.

****

They docked early in the evening, taking a limousine from the marina to
their hotel, perhaps half an hour away. Miss Parker sat next to Jarod, Lyle,
Sydney and Broots across from her. She felt the moment the man next to her
awakened, although he gave no outwardly visible sign of it. He tensed slightly,
just enough of an indication for her to realise he was aware of his
surroundings.

"How will we get Jarod into the hotel?" Miss Parker asked, and Lyle frowned.

"He should be awake soon. You two will be handcuffed together, I want you to
stand close, keep the handcuffs out of view - we don't need a scandal. I'll
check in, and you'll come inside and just go straight to the elevator," he said
smoothly, passing her a key to Jarod's cuffs. Jarod chose that moment to
'regain consciousness,' stirring slightly and opening his eyes. Lyle leered at
him, "Just in time Jarod, we've reached the hotel."

Broots and Sydney trailed after Lyle into reception, leaving Miss Parker
and Jarod alone in the car. Gently she took his hands, undoing one of the
bracelets and attaching it to her own wrist. When she went to pull her hands
away Jarod held them. When she met his gaze, it was warm, but strained.

"Be careful of Lyle, Miss Parker," he rasped quietly, "He gets more dangerous
everyday - and he wants you."

She nodded, pulling her hands free. A moment later Lyle rapped on the
window and they stepped out, Jarod somewhat stiffly. Parker
gave her brother the key to the handcuffs, and he gave Jarod a warning look.

"Play along, Jarod, or you'll find out just how uncomfortable I can make this
trip."

Parker and Jarod held hands as they went inside, walking quite close
together, so the handcuffs that joined them were hardly noticeable. They looked
for all the world like a wealthy couple holidaying at a beach resort, and none
of the hotel staff gave them a second glance as they crossed the foyer and
entered the elevator. They dropped hands once inside the car, and Miss Parker
raised her face to watch the numbers light up slowly. She was tired, having
slept very little the day spent on the boat, and wanted only a drink and a bed.

The suite they were staying in was luxurious, with magnificent ocean
views, and took up half the top floor. It had four bedrooms, three bathrooms
and a lounge, kitchen and dining area. Lyle went immediately to make a call,
while Miss Parker and Jarod sat on the couch under Sam and Willie's watchful
gaze. Broots emerged from one of the bedrooms a moment later.

"Sydney's taking a shower - this place is huge!" the techie exclaimed, and
Parker put a hand to her head, feeling a headache coming on.

"Get me something toxic to drink, Broots, and turn on the lights, it's getting
dark," she said tiredly. She could hear Lyle getting angry on the phone.

Broots fetched her a glass of scotch, and went to the switches on one
wall, looking confused when he realised they flipped the other way in Australia.
Jarod seemed miserable, slouching back into the couch, and Miss Parker could
feel a steady throb beginning at the back of her skull.

"I want those papers as soon as possible, do you understand? We're sitting
ducks here," Lyle said angrily, and slammed the phone down. Parker assumed he
was talking about the extradition papers for Jarod, and idly wondered if the
Pretender would be around for long enough to need them. She doubted it.

"Can you undo these cuffs, Lyle? I want to go to bed," she growled. Lyle
tossed her the key, and Willie stepped forward with some more shackles for
Jarod.

"Aren't you going to take a shift guarding Jarod?" Lyle asked as she stood, and
she gave him a cold look.

"My shift lasted for three months. You can take it from here. Goodnight."

****

Parker awoke at the sound of a heavy thump. She raised her head, feeling
dazed and confused, trying to get her bearings in the unfamiliar room. It was
one of the bedrooms in the suite, she realised, and clutched her gun under the
pillow. When the door cracked open, she sat up, holding her weapon in front of
her and clicking the safety off. A figure slipped quietly into the room, and
the door closed again, leaving them in darkness. She heard the soft sound of
footsteps coming towards her.

"Tell me why I shouldn't shoot you," Miss Parker growled. There was a gentle
chuff of amusement.

"Because the Australian government doesn't take kindly to people shooting up
hotel rooms," Jarod said quietly. She tried to track his movement in the room,
aiming her gun where she thought he was.

"I went to a lot of trouble to get you off Laredii Island - what makes you think
I'm going to let you go now?" she asked. He was beside the bed, she guessed,
and a moment later felt a pressure on the tip of her gun, his chest, perhaps?

"I told you back on the island, Miss Parker... you *like* me," Jarod said, and
chuckled.

Miss Parker hesitated a moment, and then loosened her grip on the butt of her
gun, allowing it to dangle from her finger by the trigger guard. His hand
closed over it, taking it and setting it aside as he sat down on the bed beside
her. She could sense his presence; detect the faint scent of soap and salt on
him.

"What happened to Lyle and the sweepers?" she asked wryly.

"They met with an unfortunate accident - and got a taste of their own medicine.
They should be out for the next few hours," Jarod said.

"And Sydney and Broots?"

"Sleeping safe and sound; locked in their room. You might want to let them out
later, but don't bother waking them for now," he said. Parker smiled, although
she knew he couldn't see it in the darkness.

"This is it, Jarod," she said softly, "You go tonight, and our truce is over, we
go back to the way it's always been. You run, I chase."

"I understand," Jarod said solemnly. There was a short silence, thick with
tension, and then he fumbled across the bed until he found her hand, picking it
up and squeezing, "About what happened on the boat..."

"Jarod, it was heat of the moment-" Parker burst out, flushing.

"I wasn't referring to that," Jarod interrupted, laughing, "I was talking
about... about what happened seven years ago. The test."

"Oh," Miss Parker said, embarrassed.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry. It should never have happened... but I'm glad
you saved me. I'm glad you helped me," he said, his voice thickening with
emotion.

Parker felt slightly uncomfortable, not wanting Jarod to feel indebted to
her in any way. Seven years of blaming him for the blood on her hands didn't
just melt away overnight. She drew her hand out of his, signalling the moment
was over.

"I can't tell Lyle I just let you walk out of here," she said, somewhat briskly,
and he sighed heavily.

"I know. I don't want to use their drugs on you," Jarod said helplessly.
Parker reached out, flicking on the bedside lamp, and they both blinked
painfully. Jarod's hair was scruffy, and he needed a shave. He looked down at
the low-cut bodice of Parker's nightgown, and snapped his gaze back up to hers
quickly, blushing.

"Hit me," she commanded, and he blinked.

"What?!"

"Hit me," Miss Parker said again, "You dropped the sweepers, and the noise woke
me up. I went out to investigate but you were waiting for me as I came out the
door - knocked me down, took my gun and ran out before I could do anything."

Jarod looked uncomfortable. "I don't want to hit you," he said
plaintively. She glared at him, and he sighed, "Okay, stand up."

He rose from the edge of the bed, and Miss Parker threw back the blankets
and climbed to her feet, retrieving a robe and belting it around her waist. She
took a deep breath as Jarod regarded her, seeming almost apologetic in advance.

"Okay," she said, and braced herself.

Jarod flexed his right arm in agitation, a pained look on his face. He
took a deep breath and grimaced, raised his fist and hit her.

"Oh Christ!" Parker hissed, stumbling away, her jaw seeming to radiate pain.
Jarod was by her side in a moment, pulling her face up.

"Here, let me see," Jarod whispered roughly, and probed the tender area with his
fingertips as she hissed with pain, "You're going to have one hell of a bruise.
I split your lip too, I'm sorry."

Jarod pulled his hand back to show her the shiny blood on his fingers, and
Parker ran her tongue over her rapidly swelling lip, tasting blood. He winced,
and she smiled weakly, knowing he couldn't have hit her with anything near his
full strength; it was just her bad luck he packed a hell of a punch even when he
wasn't trying.

"You'll need to put ice on it," Jarod said worriedly, and she brushed his hands
away.

"And you need to get out of here," she murmured. She took her gun from where
he'd set it, tucking it into the waistband of his pants and pulling his shirt
over it, "Now go."

"Okay," Jarod said, and didn't move.

"The truce is over, Jarod," Miss Parker whispered, ignoring his slight flinch at
her words, "You run, I chase."

"Let me just say goodbye to Ms Mark then, I liked her," Jarod murmured softly.

He raised his hand again, cupping the back of her neck and pulling her
close. Parker's eyes widened, thinking he was going to kiss her bruised and
torn mouth, but he threaded his fingers into her hair, gently pulling her head
back, exposing her neck. Jarod's mouth brushed tenderly, intimately, against
her throat, his tongue flicking out to touch her fluttering pulse.

"Goodbye Ms Mark," Jarod murmured huskily, and went.

Long after he was gone, Miss Parker remained staring after him, one hand
touched to her bruised mouth, the other to the spot where Jarod had kissed her
so briefly.


Four weeks later


Jarod sat on the Southbank promenade at a small café, overlooking the
Yarra River and watching the world go by. In the four weeks since his escape he
had travelled down Australia, out of Queensland and into New South Wales and
finally into Victoria, stopping wherever he wanted for a few days. He liked the
broad expanses of Australia, the rough beauty - sitting on a bus he could ride
seven hours without seeing anything more than a few farmhouses and tiny shopping
communities.

He liked Melbourne. It was a tiny city in comparison to some of the
massive ones he had spent time in the States, but it had it's own uncanny charm.
The strangely beautiful and muddy Yarra River ran through it, and it was a city
of arts and food and culture. Jarod had eaten just about every type of food he
could imagine in Melbourne, been to the opera, had seen ambiguous and artistic
plays in places that barely passed for theatres.

What Jarod liked best, he had decided, was the café culture. Coffee
seemed to be a way of life here, and it allowed him to sit for hours at a time,
sipping exotic Turkish coffee, or a fine Italian blend, people watching. After
months of isolation, it was just what he needed.

Turning his face briefly up to the afternoon sun, Jarod took out his cell
phone, dialling slowly. He hadn't had any contact with the Centre since his
escape, and knew that Sydney would be worrying about him.

"Sydney here," the psychiatrist answered.

"Isn't it a little late for you to be at the Centre still?" Jarod asked, and the
older man chuckled warmly.

"Jarod... I was beginning to think you'd gone for good," he said.

"Just taking some time off," Jarod said.

"Well deserved I think... Laredii didn't treat you too badly, I hope?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle," Jarod said, frowning. His strained ribs had given
him the odd pain over the last few weeks, but it was nothing worth mentioning,
"Asides from a little cabin fever. I'm glad Miss Parker came along when she
did. Is her jaw okay?"

"It was a nice purple colour for a week or two, but it healed well... you could
have broken it if you *really* tried," Sydney said knowingly. Jarod smiled
briefly, lifting the newspaper in front of him and running his finger across a
small article.

"Laredii Island has been donated to the world heritage foundation by a private
corporation, I see," he said.

"Yes, Laredii has been dismantled, both Island and Industries," Sydney said,
"They're competition we couldn't afford. You're lucky Miss Parker got you out
when she did - Cleaners discovered your files, their next intention was to
dissect you."

Jarod made a non-committal noise, sipping his latte. Laredii's intentions
had never come across as straightforward; their approach had been wrong from the
beginning, as if they weren't working terribly hard to figure him out at all.
He had concluded that it was more of an attempt to wound the Centre than to
replicate the Pretender Project.

"Are you back in America?" Sydney asked.

"Of course, I got back as soon as possible," Jarod lied, and knew from Sydney's
soft snort that the psychiatrist didn't believe him. He grinned, "And how are
the terrible twins?"

"Lyle is in hot water with the Triumvirate for letting you escape after they
went to such lengths to retrieve you. Miss Parker is also blaming him, quite
publicly and on a regular basis," Sydney said mildly.

"She needs to be more careful around him," Jarod said, frowning, and Syd sighed.

"I know. But she believes herself to be invincible, as ever."

"Do you... do you think it's possible to change the past, Sydney?" Jarod asked
softly, "Change the mistakes that were made?"

"No, Jarod. But by learning from the past, then perhaps you can alter the
future."

Jarod ended the call thoughtfully. In his mind's eye he pictured Miss
Parker, her eyes open in the perfect blue sea as they drifted together, her hair
a silken cloud around her face, grinning. Them lying side by side under the
brilliant night sky, watching the stars. It had been such a strange night, the
enforced intimacy between them almost a tangible thing.

Draining the last of his coffee, Jarod dropped a few coins on the table
and headed back to the hotel. He had one more phone call to make.

****

At midnight, Miss Parker arrived home. She had stayed in the office
longer than usual, re-reading the report of what had happened on Laredii Island
once they had escaped. It had been a veritable blood bath.

Laredii's guards had awakened just as Centre employed thugs had descended
on them, having neutralised most of the Laredii personnel on the mainland.
There had been much fighting, much blood shed on both sides, before the Centre
had finally secured the compound. Jackson had been found in the surveillance
room, having cut his own throat rather than face interrogation.

Cleaners had arrived when the island was completely secured; employing
many techniques that Miss Parker had initiated to rid the island of any damning
evidence, disposing of bodies and gathering all information pertaining to
Laredii's offices in both St Louis and London. Over the last few weeks they had
dismantled both, the island compound was destroyed and the island itself
disposed of - not deemed useful to the Centre considering how easily they had
compromised it's security.

Parker slapped the file onto the console by the door, shedding her jacket
and shoes and rolling her head, trying to relieve the stiffness in her neck. It
had been a long day, with yet more meetings with her father as he pressured her
to find some sign of Jarod. The chase was on again.

She'd had little time to adjust to the sudden change in environment and
identity - it was if she had never left, never spent those three months in St
Louis under the name of Lila Mark. The only difference was her father's
attitude to Lyle. He no longer held his status as the beloved prodigal son
returned, but instead found his name was mud to his father, for allowing Jarod
to escape.

Her father had sent Lyle to retrieve both Miss Parker and Jarod, and
seemed to deem that her close contact with Jarod had made her mentally
incompetent for a brief period of time, as if the Pretender's influence would
leave her stupefied, which suited her just fine. Her nerves had been stretched
tight after three months of undercover work and a harrowing escape, not to
mention the fact that by the time Lyle picked them up she'd only had about four
hours sleep in roughly forty hours. The fact that her father was benignly
taking that into consideration and subsequently laying the blame at Lyle's feet
pleased her no end.

Pouring herself a glass of scotch, Miss Parker sipped carefully. Of
course, her father's considerate mood had worn off once Jarod had failed to make
an appearance as he usually did. She wondered idly where he was, still in
Australia, or had he returned to home soil? She could imagine him travelling
around Australia, helping those in need; discovering the culture and the quirks
of another country.

Eventually he'd come back. His family was in the United States, and he'd
be back to look for them. In the meantime she wasn't fussed, let him have his
moment of freedom.

"Taking the moment," she murmured aloud, and smiled slightly, remembering his
philosophical rambling on the boat as she hit the flashing message on her
answering machine. 'There are so many perfect moments in life, so many
individual and isolated moments of pure, undefined beauty,' he had said.

Miss Parker frowned as soft music began filtering into the room, and
turned up the volume on her answering machine. It was singing, a beautiful
opera, Vide Cor Meum if she guessed it correctly. It was inspiring music, both
hopeful and touchingly poignant, the lyrics taken from Dante's La Vita Nuova.
The song ended, and Parker raised a trembling hand to touch her chest, just over
her heart.

"Io sono in pace, Vide cor meum," she murmured, repeating the last words of the
song. 'I am in peace, see my heart.'

The message ended with a click. 'Watch the stars, enjoy a cup of fine
coffee, listen to a beautiful opera...' Jarod had said. He had given her, in
the most unexpected way, an individual and isolated moment of pure, undefined
beauty.

Miss Parker smiled.


The End.


Feedback to [email protected]

Author's notes: This story is set sometime during the fourth season, before the
major revelations such as Catherine Parker's *real* death and Ethan, etc.

Laredii Island is of my own creation, and cannot be found amongst the
Whitsundays. It is illegal to litter on the Great Barrier Reef, and dropped
diving equipment may damage the coral. I am not a diving expert, and as
I understand it, buddy breathing is usually not the safest option for people who
have never dived together before - I used it as a plot device. The song is Vide
Cor Meum by Patrick Cassidy, from the Hannibal soundtrack.