Under the Big Top
By Fewthistle

She couldn't believe that she had just spent the entire night at the fucking circus. Jared and his juvenile need to recreate a childhood he had never known. Although, God knows there was an irony to his latest choice that didn't escape her.

The world, or their world at least, writ small. There she was, the tightrope walker, trying in vain to catch the man on the trapeze. Too bad that, unlike the circus, she didn't have the luxury of a net.

Trust Jared to find existentialism under the big top.

The nutty scent of the sawdust and the musty odor of the canvas tent lingered, burrowed deep into her sinuses, and her head still throbbed from the cacophonic screeches of thousands of sticky, grubby children. One of them had reached over with an ice cream stained hand and touched her arm, leaving a runny river of milky, sugary gunk on the sleeve of her Armani suit. The perfect end to a perfect night.

Of course she hadn't caught Jared. She never caught him. She had begun to wonder if she wasn't a parable of sorts, a lesson in shortsightedness and arrogance for some cosmic audience. One of the central players in some fucking morality play.

She wondered if Jared ever felt the same. She wondered if he enjoyed the role any better than she did.

Somehow, she was certain that he did.

Being the hero had to be a hell of a lot more entertaining than being the villain of the thing. If she even rated that part.

Most of the time she simply felt like the hired thug. Not Prince John to Robin Hood, but merely the lowly Sheriff, forever chasing the people's champion through the dark woods. Evil without intent.

Dropping exhaustedly onto the couch, Miss Parker clicked on the television, the light from the screen flickering over her face, her expressions a running counterpart to the comedic shenanigans of the staff of WJM.

In moments of clarity, she knew that somewhere a world existed where she would laugh out loud at the unfortunate demise of Chuckles the Clown, but it wasn't this one.

It would never be this one.

Still, there wasn't anything else on.

The announcement stated that the marathon of the MTM show would continue. Maybe she'd just sleep here on the couch tonight.

Tomorrow promised to be another night at the circus.