Possession
By Fewthistle

Disclaimer: The characters of Miss Parker, et al of The Pretender belong solely to Twentieth Century Fox Television and NBC. Athena, Ares and Aphrodite belong to all of us, a legacy of Greco-Roman culture, though some of the attributes they display and some of the events mentioned were created by the writers of Xena: Warrior Princess . No copyright infringements were intended. No profit was made.

Rating : NC-17 for language and, believe it or not, actual sexual situations between two women. This story is a crossover Miss Parker/Athena story...don't be frightened, it's not as scary as it sounds. As I said, this story involves two women in an intimate relationship. If this is not something you think you might enjoy or even something of which you might approve, then all best wishes as you travel elsewhere.

Further Disclaimer : The character of Athena, as portrayed by the lovely and talented Paris Jefferson, is derived from the character envisioned by the writers of Xena: Warrior Princess , though I have returned to the Goddess of Wisdom some of the better qualities with which she has historically been attributed. Miss Parker is a product of the creative minds of the writers of The Pretender , and the great talent of the equally lovely Andrea Parker, though in this reality I have provided her with, in my humble opinion, the perfect counterpart.

Spoilers: This story takes up where the last episode of The Pretender leaves off, with Miss Parker still searching for the truth about her Mother. As for Athena, well, she is immortal and so it seemed no greater leap of imagination to picture her in 2000 AD, as it did in 100 BC.

Title: The title of this story comes from Sarah McLachlan's song "Possession". The lyrics of the song seem particularly apt for these two characters.

...............................................

"Take therefore no thought for the morrow; for the morrow shall
take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the
evil thereof."
Matthew 6:34

Chapter One

"Fuck!"

The woman's voice cut the night air like the blade of a sword slicing through the enveloping fog. She should have known that of all the places to break down, this piece of crap car from the Centre would pick the most God-forsaken spot on the planet. There was no point in looking under the hood. She knew nothing about engines. It wasn't anything that she had ever needed to know. She had never concerned herself with inconsequential things. After all, that's what service people were for, wasn't it?

Opening the car door and reaching across to the passenger seat, she picked up the credit card shaped cell phone, ferociously jabbing the numbers in with the tip of a well-manicured fingernail. As she waited for the line to connect, she surveyed her surroundings with a grimace of distaste.

Bum fuck Massachusetts , she thought.

The road had been pavement when she had turned onto it fifteen miles ago, but a few miles along the pavement had given way to gravel and then, eventually, to hard-packed dirt. The lights of the few houses that lined the road had faded into the night long ago, swallowed up into the darkness and the fog. The only light now came from the headlights of the car, and she realized that even that would be gone when the battery gave out.

It occurred to her then that the cell phone was not responding. Glancing down at it, she saw the "No Service" message flashing at her. Not surprising, considering that the nearest point of civilization was a hundred miles away. In one, swift, graceful motion, she spun around and hurled the phone as far as she could into the woods along the road, hearing the impact it made against the trunk of a tree.

"Fuck," she said again, this time with less anger and more resignation. It was apparent that few if any people traveled this particular stretch of road. Obviously, she was going to have to wait till morning and then set out on foot to find some help. It was late September and the day had been lovely, the crisp air holding just the subtle promise of winter days ahead. The night however, had turned cold and damp, the fog settling in over the hills of Western Massachusetts like an old woman wrapping herself in the warmth of an well-worn blanket.

Returning to the car, the woman pulled the lapels of her black leather blazer a little closer and made herself as comfortable as she could in the driver's seat, sliding the seat back as far as it would go and stretching her long legs out in front of her. She removed her gun from its customary back holster, placing it on the seat beside her, its metal gleaming dully in the faint light. She cut the headlights, saving as much of the battery's power as possible. Her deep blue eyes were hooded as she gazed out the windshield into the impenetrable blackness of the night. The sounds of the crickets soon turned into a soothing lullaby as she felt sleep creeping up on her, her eyelids slowly closing.

She must have slept, for she woke with a start as the unearthly screech of an owl echoed hauntingly through the woods. She felt a chill run down her spine at the cry of the bird, her heart thumping quickly, disturbingly in her chest. She immediately grabbed the 9mm Glock, the weight and feel of the gun reassuring her. Sliding her fingers through her dark brown hair, she pushed herself upright, the low hum of the automatic seat sounding comfortingly familiar as she slid it back into position.

Glancing up at the rearview mirror, she saw the startled, uneasy expression in her blue eyes as the beams of approaching headlights pierced the darkness, illuminating her face. Quickly stepping out of the car, she walked to the center of the road, waving her arms to signal the driver of the other car to stop.

Seeing that the car was slowing, she stepped to the side, easing the gun into its place in the small of her back, as a new black Jaguar crept to a halt, the brake lights a red, demonic glow against the fog. Approaching the car, she waited for the driver to emerge. For a long moment, nothing happened, until with a slight mechanical whine, the driver's side window slipped open.

"Are you having car trouble or is this just your way of meeting new and exciting people?" A female voice questioned, the tone amused.

Moving closer to the Jag, the woman leaned down without warning, her arms braced on either side of the window, obviously intent on frightening the driver. Her blues eyes cold and completely unamused, she expected the driver to recoil at the sudden movement. Instead, she found herself staring into clear grey eyes, brilliant even in the faint light of the dashboard. The driver's full lips were curved in a slight smile and she seemed, if anything quite entertained by the attempt at intimidation.

"Tell me," the driver asked, her voice low and silvery, insinuating itself around the woman as stealthily as the fog, "Do you find that that sort of obvious, rather thug-like behavior works for you? I'm thinking no, but then, I may not have seen your full repertoire."

Taking a deep breath, the woman tried to maintain a semblance of a calm. Since it was clear that intimidation was not going to be successful, she opted for another route. Drawing back from the car, she managed a thin smile, one that never reached her cool blue eyes. The driver's gaze never left her, the slight smile increasing a trifle, revealing just a glimpse of straight white teeth.

"Look, it's been a long day, I'm tired, my car is being uncooperative. Do you think we could manage to continue this conversation without the smart-ass remarks?" she said, a thin thread of irritation still evident in her voice.

With a throaty chuckle the driver replied, "I think I could probably manage it, though it wouldn't be nearly as entertaining. However, since it is late and I don't intend to spend the rest of the night on this deserted stretch of road, trading barbs with you, I will make this as concise as possible.

"As far as I can see, you have three choices. One, you can start walking now and hopefully reach town by daylight. You will then wait around for an hour or two or three for the inbred bumpkins who run the service station to locate their tow truck, which they lend out to their equally half-witted cousin to run illegal cigarettes from Canada. Once they do locate it, you will have the sincere joy of riding in the cab, for a good thirty minutes, with two men who last saw the inside of a shower during the Carter Administration.

"Or choice number two, you can wait till daylight and make said walk and trip back to town then, after having spent a warm and cozy night in the comfort of your car. Though I must warn you, chances are good that by midafternoon, the Ball brothers will have already begun to indulge in their two favorite pastimes, World Federation Wrestling and Budweiser, which always makes them a bit rambunctious. That should make the drive back all the more enjoyable," she said, the sparkle of amusement glowing brightly in her gray eyes.

"Well, with choices like those, I can't wait to hear what number three holds in store for me," the woman responded sardonically.

"Considering that you seem to fail to appreciate my sense of humor, I'm afraid number three may prove to be the worst of all. It, of course would be the option where you get in the car, I drive to my house, which is just a few miles down the road, you spend the night in a lovely warm room with a fireplace, and in the morning I call AAA, which will send a wrecker from a service station that wouldn't let the Ball brothers pump gas, and will even provide you with a rental car. I might even be inclined to make breakfast, but I'm not making any promises," the driver finished, her chin resting on her arms that she had crossed on the edge of the door.

For a brief instant the woman fantasized about reaching through the open window and pulling the driver out, tossing her on the side of the road and driving away in the Jag. Pushing the thoughts aside, she turned and walked the short distance to her broken down vehicle, removing a small leather suitcase from the trunk. Returning to the Jag, she opened the back door, tossing the bag inside and then slid easily into the passenger seat, the smooth leather sighing softly under her weight.

The driver didn't even glance her way, merely slipping the car into drive.

"Good choice," she remarked, the light from the dash revealing the smile still touching her lips.

"It must be gratifying to be the lesser evil," the woman answered, pulling a cigarette and lighter from her jacket pocket. Without asking for permission, she lit the cigarette, lowering the passenger side window a crack to allow the smoke to escape. She held that first lungful in for a long moment, savoring the feel of the nicotine invading her bloodstream, the smoke burning her throat, before releasing it in almost a blissful sigh. The music from the CD player gently wafted through the car.

"One should never make rash assumptions you know. Just because I don't have a sixty IQ, a beer gut and breath that reeks of pork rinds doesn't necessarily qualify me as the lesser evil. The less pungent perhaps. After all, how do you know I won't murder you in your sleep? Though, seeing how much you are enjoying that cigarette, it would seem a waste of energy to kill you when you are doing such a fine job of it on your own," the driver said softly, her eyes never leaving the dark road in front of them.

"Would you like me to put it out?" the woman asked dangerously, her voice low and somewhat threatening. It had been a very long and unpleasant day and the only thing that was holding her sanity together right now was this slim stick of carcinogens.

"No," the driver answered, her response uncharacteristically short.

In the ensuing silence, the woman took a moment to study her companion. In the dim light from the dashboard she looked around thirty or thirty-five. Her hair, falling just to her collar, gleamed with a muted auburn richness in the faint illumination. She wore jeans and a cream colored Irish fisherman's sweater of thick cotton. There was a brown suede car coat thrown across the back of the seat between them and glancing down, she could just make out loafers of dark brown Moroccan leather on her feet.

The only jewelry she wore were earrings of heavy gold, intricate designs engraved in the thick hoops and a large gold ring on the index finger of her right hand, an emerald cut sapphire glowing dully in the light. Even in the murky light of the car, the woman could see that the driver was quite beautiful, her features delicately curved, cheekbones high and lips full.

In spite of the smell of the cigarette smoke, the woman could make out the soft, sweet, heady scent of her perfume. Much better than pork rinds and not a beer gut in sight , she thought with relief.

"So, do I pass inspection?" the driver asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Well, I don't have the Ball brothers here for comparison, of course, so I will have to take your word on them, but all in all, not bad," she replied, a hint of humor appearing for the first time tonight.

"Have you ever heard the expression, 'To damn with faint praise'?" the driver asked, laughter clear in her voice.

The woman actually chuckled softly, not answering immediately.

When she didn't reply the driver asked, "So, since you will be staying in my home, it might be nice if I knew your name. You do have one don't you?"

"Yes."

"No name, no bed."

"Parker."

"Parker? Parker what?"

" Miss Parker."

The answer seemed to appeal to the driver, who laughed softly. She turned off the main road onto what appeared to be a long driveway. Up through the thick growth of trees and bushes, the faint glow of a house light shone dimly.

The woman waited for the driver to tell her her name. In her experience, people generally felt the need to share. But as they continued up the driveway, the driver volunteered no further information, humming softly along with the CD, Ella Fitzgerald crooning "How High the Moon."

With a slight snort she said, "All right, I'll give. What's your name?"

"Athena."

"Athena what?" she repeated

"Just Athena. It seems fair, don't you think. You have a last name and I have a first."

Before Miss Parker had a chance to respond, the car came around a final, gentle bend in the drive. Ahead of them stood a beautiful old Federal house, white and solid, its multifaceted windowpanes giving it an air of character and personality, as light twinkled softly from lamps glimmering in pleasantly lit rooms.

There was a serenity, a sense of having weathered many long cold winters, of having reveled in many hot, fragrant summers. Even in the dusky light, she could see the order of the lawn and yard, feel the pervading sense of peace. It seemed to fit the driver. Athena. An unusual name and yet looking at her, Miss Parker couldn't think of another that suited her.

Pulling up directly in front of the house, Athena stopped the car, turned off the engine, picked up the suede jacket, and opening her door, stepped out onto the gravel drive. Turning to glance at Miss Parker, who remained seated in the car, Athena smiled engagingly.

"If you were planning on spending the night in a car, you could have just as easily stayed in your own. Having second thoughts about that lesser evil idea?" she laughed.

Miss Parker climbed slowly out of the car, crossing the gravel drive to stand very close to Athena. She was about four inches taller, so she leaned down till her face was a breath away from Athena's. Enigmatic blue eyes met mystical gray ones as the two stared at each other for a long moment. Miss Parker broke the silence finally, whispering softly.

"No. Has it occurred to you that picking me up on the road might not have been the lesser evil for you?" she said, turning to retrieve her bag from the back seat, before climbing the steps to the front door.

"I'm counting on it," Athena responded, her voice too quiet to carry to where her guest stood somewhat impatiently on her front steps, "I'm sincerely counting on it."

Chapter Two

Stepping into the wide front hall, Miss Parker looked around her, taking in with a glance the polished floors of wide oak planks, the rugs of rich, dark blues and greens and burgundies, the walls of white adorned with pictures and paintings. There was a scent of woodsmoke, and dried flowers, of fresh country air, apples and the subtle scent of that same sweet perfume that clung to Athena. The wide hall opened up on either side into large, airy rooms, decorated simply with overstuffed couches and Queen Anne chairs, and Shaker style tables of burnished maple. A fire glowed in the hearth, its warmth spilling out into the room and to the hall beyond.

"My God, you're Martha Stewart in drag," Parker commented dryly, turning to face her hostess who had just finished hanging her suede jacket on a peg on the antique hall tree.

Athena laughed, leaning back against the heavy oak door to contemplate her guest.

"Somehow, I imagine that the 'in drag' part was the compliment and not the suggestion that you find my home warm and inviting," she replied, her gray eyes teasing.

Miss Parker returned her gaze, taking the opportunity to study the other woman in the less subdued lighting of the entranceway. She was somewhat shorter than Parker had imagined her sitting down, maybe about five foot three or four, delicate and small boned. Yet there was something imposing about her, a commanding presence, an aura of strength and power that was unmistakable. Her hair was a lovely rich auburn, her skin flawless, and her eyes were an almost unnatural shade of pale gray.

"Shall I pivot, pose, do the infamous runway walk or are you satisfied with what you see?" she inveigled, her voice and her eyes beguiling.

"Tell me, do you flirt with all of the total strangers that you pick up on deserted roads?" Parker asked, her eyes hooded as she leaned against the banister of the spacious staircase.

"I've never actually picked anyone up before. You are my test case. If all goes well with you, I may consider other, leggy hitchhikers. As for the flirting, there's just something about a beautiful brunette that brings it out in me. I hope you're not offended," Athena answered, her tone becoming somewhat more serious at the end.

The honesty of the response took Miss Parker aback. She had never really examined her feelings of attraction to other women, although she had noted them, almost in passing. It had always just seemed easier to take those feelings and put them in a back corner of her mind. Of course it helped that she was never challenged to explore them. The majority of people, male and female, found her a bit too intimidating to even think of approaching her, much less flirting openly. The fact that there was something so much more than attractive about her hostess, that Parker found herself intensely aware of the other woman and yet, completely at ease with her was a trifle disconcerting.

"Maybe I should have asked exactly what the going rate at this little inn will be before I got here?" she responded finally, just a hint of ice in her tone, making the remark sound more serious than she had intended.

"Haven't you ever heard the expression, 'if you have to ask the price, you can't afford it'?" Athena rejoined, pushing away from the wall to cross the short distance to Miss Parker's side. "Don't worry. There shouldn't be too much exertion involved. At least not if you do it right."

Running her tongue into the corner of her mouth, Parker considered whether to give Athena one of those looks that turned Broots into a driveling idiot. There were just two problems with that idea. The first problem was that Athena was most certainly not Broots. Parker doubted that she would be so easily intimidated. The other problem was that Miss Parker wasn't all that sure that she wanted the woman to stop. Slowly searching that lovely face, her eyes lingered on the perfect curve of full lips.

"I always do things right," she murmured, her voice low and ever so slightly seductive.

A slow, sexy smile slipped across Athena's face at the reply. Leaning forward a little, she looked up at Miss Parker from under long lashes.

"You have no idea how glad I am to hear that," she sighed. Gazing up at Parker for just a moment longer, she straightened abruptly.

"You'll find the wood stacked in the mud room off the kitchen. Be sure to use the really dry logs and lots of kindling. The fire in the drawing room is fading fast and of course, there is the one in the kitchen. Also, if you don't plan on sleeping under five or six blankets, you'd better get the one in the front guest room started too," she told her, the smile playing at the corners of her mouth decidedly triumphant as she walked down the main hall toward the kitchen.

"Excuse me?" Parker asked, the feeling of being had slowly registering in her mind.

"You did ask what the rate for a night's stay was, didn't you?" Athena answered. "In my house, it's making sure the fires are kept lit. The ones in the fireplaces that is. If you do it properly the first time it doesn't require all that much exertion. Why, what did you think I meant?" she finished, her voice and her expression innocent, only the victorious gleam in her eyes giving her away.

Miss Parker growled low in her throat, infuriated at being played so easily. Athena noted the look and the growl and chuckled to herself, quite pleased at the outcome.

"That was for lurching at me through the car window and trying to scare the hell out of me," Athena told her, her smile turning sweeter, "I've always been a firm believer in divine retribution."

Miss Parker stared at her, finding it amazingly difficult to maintain the feelings of irritation and anger. Something about this woman got under her skin in the most astonishing way and she found herself returning the smile with a rather rueful grin of her own, shaking her head at the whole damn situation.

"Are you hungry?" Athena asked, still smiling at her from her place near the kitchen door.

"Yeah. Actually, I'm starving," Parker admitted, her mind processing the fact that it had been a good ten or twelve hours since she last ate.

"If you'll get the fire going in the kitchen I'll make us something to eat. Breakfast stuff alright?" Athena asked, pushing open the door to the huge brick walled kitchen.

"I like my eggs over easy and my bacon crisp. And I would kill for a cup of coffee," she replied, following Athena into the kitchen, passing through to the mud room that protruded from the back of the house.

"Over easy it is."

Standing and surveying the pile of split logs, Miss Parker gingerly reached out to grasp one, setting it with a thunk into the bin.

"If there are any spiders in here, you are on your own. I'll sleep in the car," she said loudly, her voice carrying in to where Athena stood by the stove, bacon already sizzling in a pan.

"You don't like spiders?" Athena asked, a note of amusement in her voice, "Funny, I don't know why, but I have always had an aversion to them myself."

The creamy liquid was rich and hot in her mouth, her eyes closing in appreciation as she slowly licked the drops that had gotten on her fingers. It really had been so long since she had indulged like this, never taking the time and effort to do it for herself. She was just reaching out again when a voice cut into her reverie.

"I hate to interrupt what is obviously such a private moment, but could you pass the cream please? My coffee is getting cold," Athena teased lightly, her eyes having been glued to the exquisite sight of Miss Parker's face as she ate the liquid golden center of her eggs.

The woman was truly gorgeous, not in a conventional way, but in the lines of her face, in those crystal blue eyes and in every movement, every gesture and word. There was something completely sensual about her, even under that veneer of ice, something captivating and enigmatic that had seized Athena's attention in a way that no one had for a very long time.

Miss Parker opened her eyes, the expression in them as well as the ghost of a smile that slipped across her face causing Athena's breath to catch. Parker noted the other woman's response, part of her feeling a surge of power at her ability to capture Athena's attention so completely. She had to admit that there seemed to be an almost palpable electricity that emanated from Athena, one that was matched by an equally strong current in herself.

Reaching out, Parker slowly lifted the small pitcher of cream, extending it without a word to Athena. As she took it from Parker's hand their fingers touched, sending a minor stream of that current through both of them, blue eyes and gray locked in a gaze of surprise and intrigue.

"Thank you," Athena said quietly, pulling her eyes away and concentrating on pouring the cream into a mug of steaming coffee.

"So, you haven't told me what brought you out here to the middle of nowhere," Athena stated somewhat abruptly, clearly attempting to change the subject, "There isn't much out here, besides me of course, and I can assure you, I wasn't expecting company."

Miss Parker debated silently whether or not to trust this woman enough to tell her why she was out here in bum fuck. On one hand she could possibly provide some worthwhile information. On the other hand, there was no way of knowing who she was or whom she knew. The Centre's reach was long and had shown up in some terrifying places. It was possible that Athena might be connected in some way to the Centre or Raines or even Lyle and Parker couldn't take that chance. There was also the fact that should she reveal any information to Athena about the Centre or her search for her mother, Athena could be in danger. Though she had only known her a few short hours, Miss Parker found that she cared a good deal what happened to her.

"I didn't realize I asked you to explain to me the inherent properties of a black hole," Athena prompted, that teasing smile back on her face, "Surely it can't be that difficult. But, wait, let me guess. The non-descript car, the all black clothing, that lovely little 9mm you have in a back holster. Some sort of spy? And you're going to tell me that your reasons for being here are top-secret, involving national security, correct?"

Miss Parker hesitated, the normally flippant remark she would have made dying on her tongue. She had been startled to discover that Athena knew she was carrying a gun. She must have noticed it when Parker was messing with the damn fireplace. She couldn't explain to herself why she cared what this woman thought of her but she did. There was something, a quality that Parker couldn't quite identify, couldn't quite name that made her want to trust Athena. Perhaps it was seeing part of herself in her, in the fearlessness, in the wit and sarcasm, and in the vulnerability that she glimpsed for just a moment in those gray eyes.

Athena waited patiently, raising a piece of toast to her mouth, straight white teeth biting into the crisp bread. She could sense the inner struggle, the debate taking place inside her guest as she tried to decide whether to trust her or not. She knew instinctively that if she offered assurances of reliability, or attempted in any way to coerce Parker into telling her that she would lose. She simply sat quietly, her eyes never leaving Miss Parker's face.

Blue eyes bore into her own, searching, seeking out something she knew she couldn't offer, could only wait for Parker to find. Finally, after an abbreviated eternity, Parker let out a sigh of sorts, as if she had been holding her breath, trying to make her decision.

"It's a long story. I'm looking for my mother or at least someone who can give me some information on where I might find her. I'd settle for someone to tell me once and for all if she is dead or alive," Parker said softly.

"It's only ten o'clock and I didn't have any plans for the evening. Besides, I love long stories," Athena answered, her face gentle, "Tell me. Maybe I can help you."

"Somehow I doubt that. You'd have to be the greatest fucking fortune-teller in the world," Miss Parker muttered, a bitter tone in her voice.

"You might be surprised, my dear, you might just be surprised," Athena replied, an odd light in her eyes.

Chapter Three

The morning light slipped in through the slats in the blinds, creeping slowly across the hardwood floor and thick Berber rug, climbing stealthily up the side of the luxurious down comforter, reaching, finally the occupant of the antique sleigh bed. It nudged her gently, urging her to open her eyes and take in the breathtaking day that was now beginning. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, Miss Parker simply rolled over, pulling the comforter up over her head, blocking out the light and some of the sounds of the birds.

It had been almost three a.m. by the time that they had finished talking. Parker lay there, the comforter providing her with a soft layer of darkness, and went over the conversation in her head, assuring herself that she had not given away any information about the Centre, anything that might be dangerous to her or to Athena. The Centre. Such an innocuous name and yet one which held in its claw-like grasp such profound evil. To the outside world the corporation was not unlike many others, providing research, corporate aid, etc. Yet, within the high walls of the building, demons dwelt, capable of destroying lives and worlds with a few casual words.

The Centre had taken the concept of virtual research to its highest level. It had created a program designed to find children of genius IQ and abilities and utilize them to become whatever "research" their clients required. Pretenders, fully capable of inserting themselves into any role, any mindset, in order to provide the answers and the solutions. No matter what the situation, no matter what the cost. The fact that The Centre stole these children away from their families and held them captive for the rest of their natural lives was deemed incidental, as long as the results increased the corporate coffers and the power of the corporate officers. The Triumvirate, who ruled their empire with fear and intimidation and, upon occasion, murder, cared little about the how, only about the final outcome.

Miss Parker had been born into this world, scion and heir apparent to her father, Mr. Parker, who held a position of power and fear at The Centre, a man compelled by his own demons and secrets. Her mother had tried desperately to free her daughter from this world of malice and intrigue, and to save the innocent children The Centre had kidnapped. She had failed, her quest ended by a bullet. Or at least that is what Miss Parker had been told.

It had been difficult to not tell Athena all the tragic details, all the lies, all the corruption, all the mysteries and questions surrounding her life and her mother's death. She had managed to simply tell her that her mother had died, and that for years there had been a great deal of mystery about the circumstances of her death and that now, she had reason to believe that her mother might not be dead.

For a moment, Parker flashed back to that fateful night just weeks ago, standing in the pouring rain, covered with mud, staring down into an empty grave as what she had thought were the sole remaining truths in her life came crashing down around her. Her father was missing, possibly murdered at the command of the Triumvirate, and her mother, whom she had long thought to be dead, whom she had mourned and missed could actually be alive.

Jarod had sent her clues, bits and pieces of an ever changing and alterable puzzle, the latest of which had lead her here, searching for answers from strangers about the most important person in her life. Clues that, however well intentioned, had thus far come to nothing. Jarod had been The Centre's greatest asset, their greatest Pretender, at least until he had escaped, dragging Miss Parker into the ensuing morass as surely as if she had been chained to the other side of his shackles.

For the past four years she had been forced to hunt him, following dead end lead after dead end lead. She had been assured by her father and the odious Mr. Raines that when she finally caught Jarod and returned him to The Centre that she would be free to leave herself, free to live a life outside the high walls of what had been her prison as well.

Somewhere in the twisted maze of their intertwined lives, she and Jarod had formed a conspiracy of sorts, unacknowledged but real. She wanted the truth about her past and he wanted to find the family from which he had been so brutally ripped away. Like a dog that has wrapped its chain around everything in sight, tangled and contorted, till the chain begins to cut off the flow of air, the enigma of their shared pasts required both she and Jarod to slowly unsnarl and extricate the truth before it hung itself. So Jarod sent her clues, hoping against hope that the answers to her questions would lead him to his own epiphany.

She had told Athena that she was searching for a man named Bartlett who was supposed to live on a farm further down this road. Lowering her eyes regretfully, Athena had told her that the Bartlett farm had burned to the ground about two months ago. Mr. Bartlett's body had been found inside. Just another case of being a step or two behind the Centre. The irony of it never failed to escape her.

With a deep sigh she threw back the covers, the early morning light stabbing at the backs of her eyes like small pins. Picking up her toiletries on the way, she stepped into the spacious bathroom off of her bedroom. Though maintaining the appearance of the eighteenth century house, the bath held all of the modern conveniences, including a large double-headed shower and a separate, claw-foot bathtub.

The thought of a hot, scented bath suddenly appealing to her, Parker ran the water in the tub. Taking the cap off the bottle of bubble bath/bath oil that sat on the shelf above the bath, she inhaled the rich, intoxicating scent of green tea. Pouring in a generous amount, she gingerly lowered herself into the steaming hot water, the feel of the enveloping heat and the soothing scent of the bubbles drawing another deep sigh. She quickly washed her hair, lying back to rinse the suds and then, energy spent, sat thinking.

Athena had promised to take her to what remained of the Bartlett farm. During the whole conversation last night, she had been wonderful, attentive, kind, non-intrusive, never asking any questions, merely taking whatever information that Parker seemed willing to share. She had told Miss Parker what she could of Bartlett, who had apparently been somewhat reclusive, seldom speaking to anyone and only venturing off his property once a month for groceries and supplies.

Closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the cool porcelain of the tub, Parker found her thoughts wandering to her hostess. There was something incredibly appealing about her, something that defied description, but that Parker found struck a cord inside herself. She was obviously highly intelligent, witty, quite charming and inordinately sexy. There was a fluidness, a grace to her movements that made every gesture elegant and Parker had found herself simply enjoying watching her, listening to the clear, cool, melodic tones of her voice.

"Good God! I sound like some oversexed teenager," Parker muttered to herself, pushing aside thoughts of her lovely hostess. "Like I need any more complications in my life."

Rising from the tub, water cascading smoothly down her satin skin, she stepped out onto the cold marble floor, walking into the bedroom, wrapping the towel around her wet hair, and drawing it up into a turban on the top of her head. With efficient motion, she dressed quickly, blowing her hair dry, applying a light touch of makeup.

Leaving her room, she took the opportunity to wander casually down the hall, looking into the other rooms. There were two other guest rooms, both fully furnished, one similar to one she had slept in, decorated in blues and greens and whites, the furniture simple and elegant, tastefully underdone as the interior decorators would say.

The other guestroom was unlike any other room in the house. Heavy French Provincial furnishings of cream and gold, thick carpet of deep rose, the walls a lighter shade of pink, with lavish tapestries and ornate paintings adorning them. Stepping into the room, Parker couldn't help but grimace at the decor.

On the mantle was a framed photo of Athena with another woman, a tall, beautiful blonde, dressed to the nines. They were smiling into the camera, arms around each other, and there seemed to be an ease of familiarity that for some reason rankled Parker as she wondered who the woman was and what she meant to Athena. Clearly the room belonged to the woman in the picture. It certainly didn't fit Athena's more subdued style. Setting the picture down, Parker left the room, pushing aside the lingering, completely irrational feelings of jealousy that the thought inspired.

The master bedroom lay at the end of the hall, one entire wall of the room taken up with windows that faced out over the back yard, a rolling green meadow that disappeared over a hill in the distance. This room was bright and airy, the walls, the thick rug, the draperies all white. The only colors were the elegant pieces of wood furniture and the thick quilt that covered the enormous bed, a beautiful four-poster of cherry with a solid wood canopy.

The quilt was navy and pale blue and white, an intricate pattern of triangles and squares forming concentric circles. The room was free of clutter, just a few paintings, mostly of the ocean, adorning the walls. In the far corner, on a heavy marble-topped table sat a bust, sculpted out of what appeared to be gold. It was an uncanny likeness of Athena, hair falling in waves around her shoulders.

Crossing the room, Parker stood in front of it, studying the craftsmanship, marveling at the skill necessary to create such a lovely piece of art. Raising her hand, she slowly traced the line of the sculpture's cheek, running her finger gently along the perfect curve of lips. It didn't seem at all surprising to find the metal warm beneath her fingers, as if the bust were actually living flesh.

So intent was Miss Parker on studying the sculpture that she didn't hear Athena's silent approach. She was startled to hear her voice from the doorway, turning swiftly to face her.

"I thought I heard you moving around up here," Athena said lightly, no hint of reproach at having found Parker in her bedroom evident in her voice. "Did you sleep well?"

Smiling faintly, Parker casually crossed the room.

"Fine. Look, if you'll just tell me where I can find the remains of the farm, you don't have to waste half your day going with me," Parker said somewhat brusquely, the image of the blonde in the photo still in her mind.

"I don't mind, really. I just finished up my last project and while it's in the editing stage I try not to start anything new, so I don't have anything planned, at least nothing that can't wait. So unless you're sick of my company and don't want me along, I'm happy to take you over there," Athena replied, her smile genuine as she met Miss Parker's eyes. "Besides, it's a good five miles down the road, so you'd either have to borrow my car or walk, and well, I do like my Jag."

"If I had wanted your car I would have taken it during the night and been half way to Delaware by now," Parker answered, still somewhat brusquely.

"Don't," Athena said, her face serious.

"Don't what?"

"Don't revert back to being a complete bitch just because I found you snooping in my bedroom. I don't care. If I had I would have shut and locked the door. So, let's just go poke around in the ashes a bit and see if we can find anything that might help you find your mother, all right? I like you, Parker, I like you a lot, but don't ever think that that means that I will put up with bullshit from anyone, " Athena stated calmly, turning and walking down the hallway towards the stairs, never looking back to see if Miss Parker was following her.

Chuckling softly to herself, Parker followed Athena down the staircase.

The smell was still quite strong and pungent, even after two months. The acrid scent of smoke, of charred timber and melted plastic rose from the scorched ruin of the Bartlett farmhouse. Only a portion of one wall was still standing, rising skeletal and desolate against the late September sky.

Miss Parker walked determinedly up the gravel drive to the remains of the house. Athena followed behind her, watching the other woman with a rather pensive and thoughtful expression. They had spoken little since the encounter in her bedroom, though she had caught Parker looking at her several times with a speculative glint in her eyes, both in the house before they left and in the car on the way to the burned out farm. It was as if she were trying to assess this new aspect of her personality.

"Aside from the firefighters and the arson people has anyone been here, looking around, scrounging through the rubble?" Parker asked suddenly, raising her eyes from their study of the blackened timbers to meet Athena's gaze.

"I haven't exactly been keeping round the clock surveillance, but I have been home most days for the past few months and I haven't noticed any strange cars headed down here," Athena answered, moving slowly to Parker's side.

"I never asked. What is it you do?" Miss Parker inquired, her eyes leaving her hostess to scan the immediate area.

"I'm a writer. I also lecture occasionally, but most of my time is taken up with book deadlines," she replied.

"What do you write? Although I admit I don't have much time to read myself, I don't remember ever seeing your name," Miss Parker said absently as she nudged a piece of shriveled plastic aside to examine the wood underneath.

"I never told you my name, at least not my last name," Athena responded, eyes narrowing, "Been reading my mail?"

"I didn't open it, but it was just laying there on the hall table, Ms. Scott," she stated with a small smirk.

"That's Professor Scott, or Dr. Scott if you prefer," Athena said archly, her tone belied by the laughter that lit her gray eyes. "And to answer your previous question, I write fiction, novels to be exact, under a pseudonym."

"Anyone famous?" Parker asked facetiously.

"Yes, actually. My last novel was on the best seller list for four months and was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize. But don't worry, I don't expect for you to have read it.," Athena replied, a definite smile now touching her lips.

Miss Parker stopped in her inspection of the debris to stare at her companion for a long moment.

"Is that some sort of subtle suggestion that you think that your book might be over my head, an insinuation that I might be too ignorant or crass to understand it?" Parker asked challengingly.

"No. I meant that I realize that you have been far too busy with more important matters like finding out the truth about your mother to be bothered reading anything. Trust me, Parker, when I insult you, you'll know it. I won't be subtle or insinuating, I'll hit you right between the eyes. Tell me have you always been this paranoid or is it something I bring out in you?"

Looking into those laughing gray eyes, Miss Parker couldn't help but return Athena's grin. She couldn't quite pin down why this woman got under her defenses so easily, but there didn't seem to be much she could do about it.

"It must be you. People have always noted how calm and even-tempered I am," she responded.

"Hmmm. Really? I suppose you have some lovely oceanfront property in Wyoming you'd be happy to part with for a nominal fee as well, eh?" Athena laughed.

"You doubt me?" Parker asked, moving across the splintered floor towards Athena.

"What's that old expression about being as highly strung as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs?"

Before Miss Parker could answer there was a sickening sound of wood giving way and then she felt herself falling, her leg crashing through the rotted floorboards, throwing her face forward to the ground. She heard the bone snap in her ankle, felt the shooting pain that traveled up her leg and down into her toes.

"Parker! Don't try to move too much. More of the floorboard might give way and you'll end up plummeting into the cellar," Athena urged, her voice calm, "All right, I want you to grab hold of my hands. I'm going to pull you up to a sitting position, slowly now."

"If the fucking boards are that weak, then the weight of both of us is just going to make it worse. I really don't think that both of us falling into the basement will help matters all that much, do you?"

"Would you prefer that I leave you here to get up yourself? I can you know, there's a nice little spot on the fence over there that I could sit and watch. Maybe I could even use my cell phone, call some of the neighbors to join me?" Athena inquired, her face void of expression.

"Shut up and get me out of here, all right?" Parker growled, the pain in her leg becoming more intense as the minutes passed.

"You were a star graduate of the "How to Win Friends and Influence People" workshop weren't you, Parker?" Her companion asked sweetly, moving to her side to kneel down, gingerly examining where Miss Parker's leg disappeared into the floor.

"It hurts, damn it. Not to mention that this isn't the most flattering position to be in," she answered tightly.

"Well, since there's no one here to see you but me and a few crows, I think you're safe on that score. I already know what an ass you can be and to be perfectly honest, I don't think the crows give a flying fuck one way or another. As for the pain, I'm afraid it is going to get worse in just a second. I'm going to pull your leg out of this hole. If I do it slowly, it will be much more painful, so I am going to do it as quickly as I can, all right?"

"Fine."

"On three?" Athena asked.

"Fine."

"One, Two," she counted, pulling up on Parker's leg and pushing down on the surrounding floorboards at the same time. Her leg came free with a sharp crack of wood and a grunt of pain from Miss Parker.

Biting down on her bottom lip, she lay back on the floor for a moment, trying to get the pain that was coursing up her leg under control.

"They gave you a god-damned Ph.D. and you can't even count to three?" she muttered, sending a glare at Athena.

"Come on, Parker, that's one of the oldest tricks in the book. I'm surprised you weren't ready for it," Athena said rather absentmindedly. She was busy examining Miss Parker's ankle, grimacing when she saw the white of bone protruding slightly from the side.

"I'm going to pull the car as close as I can, all right?"

"Yeah. Don't worry, I'll be right here," Miss Parker said, the pain evident in her voice.

Athena merely shook her head, a slight smile on her lips. She jogged quickly to the car, pulling the Jag to the edge of where the porch had been.

"Do you think you can stand? Just put your weight on your other leg and lean on me. Hopefully you can hop to the car if you take it slowly." She asked, returning to Parker's side.

"I can walk. Just help me stand up and I'll get myself to the car," Miss Parker muttered.

Sighing deeply, Athena said, "All right. Your ankle is broken, but I think you know that. The bone is actually protruding from the skin a bit, so I'm thinking that the chances of your standing on it are in the none and none category. But, please, do give it your best cavewoman impression, ignore the pain and walk right on over to that car."

"Are you going to help me up or not?"

Reaching down, Athena grasped Miss Parker's hands, pulling her in one smooth motion to her feet. Or foot rather.

"See? I'm fine," Parker said, balancing rather precariously on one foot. Taking a deep breath she stepped, putting her weight on her injured ankle. The pain was intense and instantaneous. With a sharp cry, she felt her leg give out and felt herself falling forward, her motion brought up short by strong yet slender arms that caught her, bringing the weight of her body against Athena's. She felt the incredible softness of her, the smooth coolness of the suede jacket under her hands and smelled the soft, sweet scent of her perfume.

Gazing down into those pale gray eyes, Miss Parker realized that this would be a very agreeable position, here in this woman's arms, if it weren't for the amazing, shooting pain in her leg.

"Are you going to let me help you now, or are you planning on crawling over to the car?"

"I don't crawl," Miss Parker replied.

"Then put your arm around my shoulders and start hopping."

"Yes, Professor."

Chapter Four

"No. I am not going to the emergency room. No hospitals," Parker said firmly from the back seat, her injured leg stretched out on the seat.

"Are you always this incredibly obstinate and frustrating? Your ankle is broken, Parker. It needs to be reset, you need a cast and probably a good shot of morphine for the pain. All of those things require a doctor and a hospital," Athena explained, trying to keep the note of frustration out of her voice.

"A doctor yes, a hospital no," Parker responded quickly.

"In case you have failed to notice, you're in my car, I'm driving and to be perfectly honest, given your condition, you go where I take you. And I am taking you to the emergency room," Athena tossed over her shoulder at Miss Parker.

"I am not going to the hospital, Athena. Period. End of conversation. Don't forget, I still have my gun and I do know how to use it," Parker said, her voice flat and void of emotion.

One minute she was sitting on the back seat, the next minute Miss Parker found herself flung rather violently against the seats in front of her as Athena slammed on the brakes of the Jag, the smell of burnt rubber rising up from the road into the open window. Opening her door, Athena walked around the car to the back passenger door, flinging it open angrily.

In a voice that could shatter ice to splinters she said, "Get out."

"In case you've forgotten, I can't walk," Parker replied, a look of some disbelief on her face.

"I really don't care. Get out. As far as I am concerned you can hop, commando crawl, even roll to town or wherever it is you want to go. My patience has reached its limit. No one threatens me," Athena answered her eyes cold and empty.

Parker took in a deep breath, trying to regain some control over the situation. She realized that she was so used to dealing with the people from the Centre, of ordering the sweepers and Broots around that she had tried to use the same tactics on this woman, tactics that were not only ineffective but uncalled for.

Raising her head to look up at Athena, Miss Parker did something she hadn't done in a long time. She apologized.

"Athena...I'm sorry. Really, I can't believe I said that to you. I hope that you know that I would never have followed through on that threat. My behavior was totally out of bounds. I apologize," she said, her eyes and voice sincere.

"You really can be a total asshole, you know that Parker?"

"Look, there are certain people who monitor these things that would be very interested to know where I am right now and what I am doing. If I go to the emergency room they will know. So, if you could arrange for a doctor to come to your house, there's no record and they don't know where I am," Parker told her, in a conciliatory tone.

Sighing deeply again, Athena ran her fingers through her hair, shaking her head as she looked down at Miss Parker.

"Why didn't you just say that in the very beginning? It would have saved time and a great deal of irritation. I know that I can't make you trust me. You don't know me and you have no reason to, but just for the record, you can. Perhaps with time you will realize that, but for now, can you at least try giving me the benefit of the doubt?" Athena asked her, her voice a bit tired.

"I can't make any promises, but I'll try," Parker replied neutrally, while inside a part of her she seldom acknowledged wanted more than anything to really trust this woman.

"OW!" Parker yelled, "Where the hell did you learn your technique, working on stiffs in the morgue?"

"Now Miss, I told you that this was going to hurt a good deal, especially with just the morphine and a local anesthetic," Doctor Rogers answered soothingly.

Miss Parker was laying on the sofa in the living room of Athena's house. Athena had helped her into the house and then made a few phone calls, finally returning to the living room to tell Parker that the doctor had agreed to come, though with a good deal of misgivings. He had finally arrived, a short older man, balding and bespectacled and incredibly cheerful.

"I'm going to set the bone now. You might want to hold onto something to help with the pain," he said smiling encouragingly.

Parker reached up to the top of the couch to grab hold of the cushion, only to find Athena's hand outstretched to her. She met those gray eyes and saw the look of reassurance in them. Slowly, she shook her head.

"I'd break your fingers and then who would I have to wait on me?" Parker asked semi-seriously.

"You won't break my fingers, I promise. Here, take the left hand. That way if you do break them, I can still cut your meat and chop the wood," Athena rejoined. She extended her left hand to Miss Parker, who reluctantly grasped it, taking in a deep breath as the doctor, seeing that she was ready, began to set the bone in her ankle.

As the doctor began to move the broken bone back into position, sharp currents of pain, like jagged streaks of lightening, began to shoot up Miss Parker's leg, drawing a gasp of agony from her lips. Her hand squeezed down on Athena's with the strength of a vice, turning Parker's knuckles white as the blood drained out. Athena never even flinched, her expression remaining comforting.

"You know, you are one lucky lady," the doctor pronounced, looking up for a moment from his work to smile at Miss Parker, "This is near about the cleanest break I have seen in nigh on thirty years."

"Do ya reckon?" Miss Parker replied, sarcasm dripping from her voice. Turning her face toward Athena, she pulled down as hard as she could on Athena's hand, drawing her down so that their faces were mere inches apart.

"Tell me the truth. He's the frigging vet, isn't he? Is this your way of getting me back for the gun comment? I apologized for God's sake, what more do you want from me?" She hissed through clenched teeth, clamping down even tighter on the fingers enclosed in her grip.

"If I was trying to get back at you, I would have set it myself," Athena whispered to her, "I know it hurts, Parker, but try and behave will you? It took a lot of persuading to get him to come out here, the least you can do is be civil."

Resuming her standing position behind the couch, Parker's hand still gripping hers, Athena smiled gratefully at the doctor. Rogers returned her smile, nodding his head at her. It was against his practice to make house calls like this but Professor Scott had been very persuasive, explaining her guest's absolute terror of hospitals. Considering the incredibly generous gift the professor had made to the new children's wing, he figured it was all right to bend the rules this time.

"Fuck! Are you sure you don't want to twist it around a little more. Maybe see if you can make my knee touch my big toe?" Parker growled.

"In my day, well brought up young women didn't use language like that," the doctor said stiffly.

"In your day?" Parker began, her next words cut off quickly by Athena.

"Doctor Rogers, it looks like you're almost finished there," she said.

"Yes, the bone's in place, now I just need to get the plaster ready to wrap the ankle. May I use your kitchen?"

"Of course, you know where it is don't you?" Athena replied pleasantly.

It was only when they heard the sound of the door to the kitchen swing shut that Athena let go of Parker's hand, slowly walking around the couch till she stood over Miss Parker. Leaning forward without warning, her hands braced, one on the back cushion, the other on the arm of the sofa, her face was directly above Parker's, her expression deceptively calm.

"If you make one more nasty comment, say one more unpleasant thing to that nice man, who came all the way out here to help you, I will personally break the other leg. Am I making myself perfectly clear?" She asked quietly, an unsettling light in her eyes.

"Anyone ever tell you you're beautiful when you're angry?" Miss Parker responded, a disarming look on her face.

Athena stared at her for a long moment, the corners of her mouth just starting to twitch with a smile. Ruefully shaking her head, she made a small sound of disbelief. Raising her hand from the arm of the sofa, she gently traced the line of Miss Parker's cheekbone, her fingers cool and smooth against her skin.

"Anyone ever tell you you're incorrigible?" She responded finally, her expression surprisingly fond.

Parker found herself smiling back at her, the pain in her leg now just a dull, throbbing ache. Holding Athena's gaze, she turned her cheek into the caress, brushing her lips across those gentle fingers.

"Erhmm. Well, got the plaster all set to go. Have you fixed up in no time," the doctor said loudly, clearly intent on appearing blind to the actions of the two women.

Raising her head, Athena acknowledged his statement, pushing herself upright and moving around the couch to resume her position. Miss Parker was amazingly silent and well behaved for the remainder of the procedure, even going so far as to thank the doctor for his visit. Athena suspected that part of the change in Parker's demeanor had to do with the morphine finally kicking in, but she certainly wasn't going to complain. She made sure when the doctor left, with another large contribution to the hospital fund, that he left behind a good supply of painkillers. She would hate to make the good doctor return to set the other leg if Parker pushed her too far.

Returning to the living room, Athena wasn't surprised to see that Miss Parker's eyes were shut, her breathing slow and even. She sat down on the edge of the coffee table, watching silently as Parker slept. Athena had been alone for a long time now, the need to fit into human society making it difficult to let anyone close to her. For centuries she had tried to balance things, tried to live within the confines of a world that had no further call for ancient and forgotten gods. In the end it had always seemed too hard, not worth the effort and energy required to share her life with a mortal.

She certainly hadn't bargained on this woman who had barged into her life, full of passion and anger and thwarted dreams, but it seemed she had no defense against her. She briefly considered carrying Parker upstairs to the guestroom, but that would bring too many questions about how she had gotten there. Rising, she did slip her hands under Parker's shoulders, sliding her down so that she was lying flat on the oversized sofa. Walking quietly upstairs, she removed the comforter from the guest bed, returning to cover Miss Parker with it, tucking the ends lightly around her now plaster encased ankle.

Turning off the lights in all the rooms, Athena pulled the Queen Anne armchair and ottoman close to the couch. Settling in, she sat silently, her eyes hooded as she contemplated the woman sleeping soundly beside her.

Chapter Five

Miss Parker opened her eyes for the second day in a row to the brilliant rays of the early morning sun. The only differences this morning were that she wasn't in the immeasurably comfortable bed in the guestroom, and her right leg felt like someone had dropped a two ton safe on it. Glancing to her right, she was surprised to see Athena curled up in the large Queen Anne armchair, her legs stretched out somewhat awkwardly on the ottoman, a light blanket wrapped around her. As with most people, she looked younger in sleep, more open, more vulnerable, the passion and intelligence in those pale gray eyes invisible for the moment.

Parker hesitated waking her. After all, it was clear that she had spent the night close by, keeping vigil in case Parker had needed anything. Parker had a hazy memory of awaking sometime during the night, her mouth unbearably dry from the medication, to find Athena there, a glass of cool water in her hand. She had also given her another pill, Parker remembered, sending her back into painless oblivion, a spot she would happily revisit right now, she thought as an excruciating tendril of agony climbed her leg, wrapping itself around her like a python, slowly squeezing.

Raising her head a bit, she could see the bottle of pills setting on the coffee table, just out of reach, along with the glass of water. Pushing herself up on her elbow, she tried to swivel her body sideways so that she could stretch her arm out enough to grab the bottle. If she couldn't manage to get the water, she would just swallow the pill without it. Finally in position, she reached out as far as she could, her leg screaming in agony. Her fingers were just a few centimeters short of the bottle when she glanced up to meet Athena's gray eyes, a glint of amusement clear in them.

"All you had to do was ask, Parker. I would have gotten them for you," she said, rising gracefully from the chair to pick up the bottle and the glass, handing the latter to Parker as she opened the pill bottle, shaking out two of the pills into her palm.

Putting the pills in Parker's hand, she waited for her take them before returning the glass to the table, which she moved within Miss Parker's reach. Pushing the chair back to its usual position, she neatly folded the blanket, tossing it casually over the back of the chair. She returned to slide a couple soft pillows behind Parker's neck, helping her to reposition herself to a semi-upright pose. She retucked the comforter around her, taking special care to make sure that the injured ankle was supported and covered.

"Pain starting to get bad again?" Athena asked solicitously.

"Depends on how you define bad. I mean, I'm sure it could be worse. Right now it feels like Dumbo is sitting on it while those little Umpah-Lumpahs jab it repeatedly with red-hot cattle prods," Parker replied with what was obviously supposed to be a smile, but ended up as more of a grimace.

"It must be bad," Athena laughed, "You're mixing up your kiddie movie metaphors. Are you hungry?"

"God, no. These pills make me nauseous."

"Which is exactly why you should eat," Athena replied. "You need to have something in your stomach. How about just some plain toast and some tea? It really will help, Parker."

Gazing up at her with a speculative look, Parker said, "You know, somehow I get the impression that you've got the playbook with your lines in it hidden somewhere nearby, just in case you forget. Sweet and solicitous nursemaid really doesn't seem your thing."

"It isn't. You just seem to bring out the Mary Poppins in me. So, just try and work with me here, all right Parker?"

"I'm wondering if it isn't all this sweetness and light that's making me feel sick to my stomach and not just the pills. You are the same woman who would have happily left me on the side of the road yesterday, in the middle of nowhere, with a broken ankle, aren't you?"

"Keep talking and that can still be arranged," Athena responded, the smile on her lips not quite reaching her eyes.

"That's better. I do crave consistency," Parker said, her eyes amused, "I feel healthier already. Instead of just toast, how about adding some of those eggs, a few slices of bacon, some coffee?"

Leaning down close to her, Athena said softly, "It's a good thing I have a soft spot for leggy brunettes, you know that, Parker?"

Looking up into Athena's enchanting eyes, the pain of her leg was forgotten. She watched, immobile and fascinated as Athena slowly bent toward her, blue eyes locked with gray. As Athena's face came within centimeters, she felt her eyes instinctively close, as unimaginably soft lips ghosted over her own, a gentle pressure that sent shock waves reverberating through her body. Of their own accord, her hands rose to tangle in thick, silken hair, pulling those lips closer. The gentle pressure increased, becoming more defined, and Parker heard a low moan, though she was unclear from which of them it had come.

After countless minutes, Athena raised her head and looked down at her, those gray eyes clouded, though not as much by desire as something Parker was unwilling to name. Putting a name to it, acknowledging the emotion she recognized in Athena's eyes would mean that she would be forced to identify that same feeling in herself and Miss Parker was definitely not prepared to do that, not yet.

"So, does that mean I could even have an omelet if I wanted one?" Parker asked, her tone intentionally light and teasing.

Athena smiled at her, her expression showing that she was grateful for Parker's response, happy to take that step back as well.

"Don't push your luck, Parker," she warned, the laughter evident in her voice.

The rest of the day was spent comfortably together. Athena helped Miss Parker to move to the other end of the couch, so that she was facing the large armoire that housed the television, the VCR and the expensive sound system. Amazingly, they found an old movie they both enjoyed, Bette Davis in Dark Victory . After lunch, Parker found that the pain was getting worse, so she took another pill and spent the afternoon dozing, waking occasionally to look over at where Athena sat in the chair, her head bent over a book. Once, she had looked up just as Parker glanced her way, their eyes meeting, a look of acknowledgement and surprising warmth.

The doctor had left crutches behind, and with Athena's help, Parker managed to make it up the stairs to the guestroom, so exhausted by the time she reached it that it was all she could do not to collapse onto the bed. She stayed upright long enough for Athena to help get her pajamas out for her, the green silk glowing mildly against the dark colors of the comforter.

"Do you think you can get undressed and into your pajamas alone?" Athena inquired, her tone neutral.

"Believe it or not, I've been dressing and undressing myself since I was three," Parker said somewhat acerbically, subconsciously trying to distance herself not only from Athena, but from the thoughts that were racing through her mind at the idea of her lovely hostess disrobing her.

Her eyes registering her understanding of Parker's behavior, Athena simply inclined her head, moving without comment to the door.

"I've left water and your pills on the nightstand, you know where the bathroom is, and you are apparently quite capable of getting yourself into bed, so I will say goodnight. Sleep well," she said in a rather subdued tone.

"Athena?" Parker stopped her as she was turning to leave.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you. You've been very kind and although I may not have shown it, I do appreciate it," Miss Parker told her, her expression sincere.

"You are most welcome. If you need anything, I'll be right down the hall. I'm going to read for a while, so please don't hesitate to call me," Athena answered her, smiling gently and then walking down the hall towards her room.

Parker managed with some difficulty to get her pants off. One pant leg had already been cut to allow for the cast, so it didn't take too much effort to get the rest off. After a good ten-minute struggle she had finally gotten into her pajamas, the green silk sticking a tad to her skin which was slick and damp from her exertions.

"Gee, Parker. You have a choice between working up a sweat trying to get your own clothes off and your jammies on or working up a much more pleasurable sweat with the gorgeous creature you let help you get your clothes off and you, genius that you are, pick the former. Easy to explain why you've been chasing wonder boy around the world for four years," she thought, lying back exhausted against the pillows.

Parker lay there in the darkness, listening to the sounds of the crickets that filled the woods and fields surrounding the house. Letting her mind wander, she could almost imagine that they were a welcoming parade for a hero long at war, cries rising and falling, echoing forlornly into the night. She wondered if her own battle would ever be over, if she would be allowed to lay down her weapons and grow old and toothless, never again knowing the anger and the rage and the overwhelming need to kill or be killed.

It would be so easy to stay here, in this house, with this complex and captivating woman, this amazing being who challenged her, made her laugh, made her feel things that she had decided long ago she was incapable of feeling. If she could just hide away here forever, forgotten by the Centre, just left to live out her days simply and quietly she thought she might be able to find that part of herself that her mother had died trying to save.

As her eyes slipped shut, the pain medication stealthily taking over her senses, Miss Parker thought she heard the sound of someone crying, a soft, almost indecipherable sob. It was only when she felt the coolness of a single tear slip down her cheek to drop with a tiny splash to the exposed skin of her chest, did she realize that she was the one crying.

She woke up feeling the incredible need for a shower. Her hair was limp and plastered down in spots from a full day of laying on it and she felt decidedly sweaty. She lay still and listened for signs of life in the house, but the only sounds came from outside, the chorus of birds chattering happily in the trees. Pushing herself up, she felt a tightness in the muscles of her back and arms, soreness from the crutches no doubt.

Swinging her legs carefully out from under the covers, Parker grabbed the crutches, pulling herself somewhat unsteadily to her feet. She maneuvered into the bathroom, realizing when she got inside that the shower was definitely out. There was no way that she would be able to shower standing on one foot. Even if she took the crutches into the shower with her there was no way that she wouldn't get the cast wet. So, bath it was then, she thought, bending carefully to turn on the faucet, then scooting over and putting the toilet seat down, she sat and started the arduous ordeal of getting her pajamas off.

The tub was almost to the right level by the time that she managed to get undressed. She felt more than a trifle absurd standing there completely naked on crutches. Leaning the crutches against the wall beside the tub, Parker sat down on the edge of the bathtub, and with infinite care, slowly lowered herself backward until she was sitting inside, the water sloshing over the sides a bit. She was forced to sit at an angle, her right leg hooked over the side, out of harms way. Not the most comfortable position in the world, but at least she was actually in the water, the soothing warmth enclosing her.

Washing her hair took a little extra effort to maintain her balance but she managed it, heaving a sigh of relief at the feeling of being clean. She soaked for twenty minutes or so, until her fingers had started to prune. Deciding to get out, she let the water out of the tub. Getting a good grip on the slippery porcelain with her waterlogged fingers was proving difficult and she realized with dread that while gravity had been on her side in getting into the tub, it was working against her getting out, especially with a broken ankle.

She thought if she could simply get herself up onto the edge, then she could swing her leg around and be able to stand, but she could never get enough leverage with just one leg to work with. After about fifteen minutes, she gave up, her hair and skin still wet and decidedly cold now that the water was out of the tub. The idea of having to call Athena to help her out was beyond humiliating. At the thought of her, Parker was dismayed to hear her voice outside the bathroom door.

"Parker? Are you all right? I'm sorry to disturb you but you've been in there quite a while, and I just wanted to check."

Drawing in a deep breath, Parker replied, "I'm fine. Thanks."

"You're sure?" Athena persisted.

Closing her eyes, Parker told the truth, "Actually, to be perfectly honest, I do have one small problem."

"What?" Came the voice from outside the door.

"Well, I seem to be having a little trouble getting out of the tub," Parker admitted, the reluctance to share quite evident in her tone.

The silence with which the statement was met only served to confirm Miss Parker's fears.

"You're laughing, aren't you Athena?" Parker demanded belligerently.

"No. Of course not," Athena answered, not a trace of laughter in her voice, "Would you like for me to come in and help you?"

"No. All right, yes. It's getting fucking cold in here. But you have to close your eyes," she said somewhat petulantly.

That reply did bring a chuckle from Athena.

"Parker, you don't really expect me to keep my eyes closed, do you? After all, you've got the same stuff I do. There may be a slight difference in size and shape, but it's all the same, unless there's something you haven't told me," she rejoined, laughingly.

"Fine. Just make it quick before I catch pneumonia, ok?" Parker said tightly.

Athena opened the door, closing it swiftly behind her to keep in some of the heat from the bath. Pulling a thick towel from the rack, she crossed to the tub, laying the towel over the top of the radiator cover. Athena extended both hands to her, gently grasping Parker's and in the same smooth motion she had used yesterday, pulled her up so that she could sit on the edge of the tub and swing her good leg over to stand. Reaching over to pick up the towel, now warm from the heat of the radiator, she handed it to Parker wordlessly. Miss Parker silently wrapped the towel around her torso. Passing her the crutches, Athena moved quickly to the door, opening it so that Parker could maneuver into the bedroom.

Reaching the bed, Parker lowered herself onto it, taking the additional towel that Athena held out to her and wrapping it around her hair.

"Would you like something clean to put on?" Athena asked her.

"You're already dressed," Parker stated, not answering the question, "How long have you been up?"

"Since around seven. I heard you moving around, but I figured that if you needed anything you would call me. Do you want something else to wear?' She asked again.

"Yeah. That would be good," Miss Parker answered grudgingly.

Athena left the room for a few moments, returning to hand Parker a garment. It was a silk nightshirt of rich navy on which Parker could smell the faint, sweet scent of Athena's perfume. She kept a sache of Chanel in her own lingerie drawer, so she wasn't surprised to find that the shirt held the subtle fragrance. Without letting the towel drop she slipped it over her head, feeling the susurration of the cool silk across her shoulders.

"Better?" Athena inquired.

"Better," Parker responded, lifting herself up enough to pull the towel off and out from under the shirt. Athena took it from her without a word, crossing to the bathroom to hang it on the hook behind the door.

"Are you hungry?" She asked Parker, who was just finishing a glass of water.

"Not really. I ate three meals yesterday, which I haven't done in years, so I think I can wait till lunch."

"How's the leg?"

"Actually, it feels a little better today, though I can't say the same for my arms and back. Those crutches hurt like hell," she admitted.

Moving over to sit on the edge of the bed next to Parker, Athena said, "Lie down."

"Pardon me?" Miss Parker replied, her eyebrows arching a little in surprise.

"Lie down. On your stomach. I'll give you a massage," Athena said, her face empty of expression.

With a nervous smile, Parker answered, "You know, somehow I really don't think that that would be a very good idea."

"What's the matter, Parker, you're not scared of me are you?" Athena asked challengingly.

"No, I'm not scared of you. In fact, for some reason I can't explain, I trust you. I just don't trust myself," Parker said slowly, not meeting Athena's eyes.

"Then just trust me, all right? I promise, I would never do anything to hurt you," Athena's face was more open than Parker had ever seen it, the truth of her statement shining brightly in those pale gray eyes, that emotion that Parker had noticed yesterday clearer than before.

Miss Parker stared into those eyes for a long time, searching for some excuse to doubt Athena's sincerity, but she didn't find one. She could tell from the expression on Athena's face that she had done the same with Parker, recognizing the feelings she saw reflected there and failing to find anything to cause her to distrust them.

Taking the initiative this time, Parker leaned towards Athena, her eyes never leaving her full lips. As her mouth covered Athena's, she heard the soft sweet sound of surrender, as Athena's arms came up to circle her waist, pulling her closer. Parker could feel the warmth of her body through the thin silk of the nightshirt, her hands again making their pilgrimage up slender shoulders to tangle in luxurious hair, urging that wonderful mouth closer to her own.

Athena pulled back a little in her embrace, reaching up to grasp Parker's wrists. She brought her hands to her face, placing a gentle kiss on each of Parker's palms.

"Lie down," she told her again, though this time her voice was a bit unsteady.

Parker pulled the towel from her hair and pushing herself backwards, reclined against the pillows. Athena gently picked up Parker's injured leg, settling it carefully on the comforter. Looking up at Parker with hooded eyes, Athena climbed slowly unto the bed, moving up on her hands and knees like a cat stalking its prey, until she was directly over Parker's body, her jean clad leg nestled between Parker's bare thighs, her hands on either side of Parker's head. She rested all her weight on her arms, her body not quite touching Parker's, a situation that Miss Parker intended to remedy immediately.

Reaching up, she slid her hands down the length of Athena's back, feeling the rich, soft cotton of her sweater and the taut muscles of her back. Slipping her hands up under the sweater, Parker urged her down, pulling insistently, as her own body arched up to meet her, the overwhelming need to feel the weight of that body, to touch the soft curves making it difficult to breath. Another thought delayed her however, as it occurred to her that there were far too many layers between them.

"Take the sweater off," Parker urged, her hands already pushing the garment up in an attempt to remove it.

Laughing, Athena sat back on her knees, languidly pulling the sweater up over her head, tossing it with one smooth motion to the floor.

"Anything else you'd like?" She asked teasingly, a lazy smile playing over her full lips.

Running her tongue over her own, suddenly dry lips, Parker said in a coaxing tone, "Take off the jeans, too. And the bra. And don't forget the panties."

"Does that mean it's ok if I leave on my socks?" Athena grinned at her.

"You lucked out. I don't have a foot fetish so the socks are entirely up to you. But the rest is non-negotiable," Parker replied, reaching out a hand to grasp the waistband of Athena's jeans, attempting to undo the button.

Athena quickly swatted her hand away. "Thank you, but I've been dressing and undressing myself since I was three. I think I can manage," she told her, her words playfully echoing Parker's of the night before.

She reached down and began to remove her jeans, stepping off the bed to slide them, along with her underwear and socks to the floor, kicking them aside to crawl back onto the bed, clad now in just her bra. She again balanced her body over Parker's, her auburn hair falling forward to frame her face.

"May I?" Parker asked, not waiting for an answer as her fingers swiftly found the clasp on Athena's bra, slipping the straps down over her shoulders and arms. Pushing back a little, Athena tossed it into the growing pile of clothing on the floor.

"My turn," she whispered, her hands sliding down the sides of Parker's body, leaving trails of sensation, to grasp the bottom of the nightshirt, tugging it upwards somewhat impatiently. Miss Parker lifted herself up off the bed, as Athena pulled the shirt up and off.

"Now come here," Parker said, her voice a trifle urgent.

Athena acquiesced, lowering herself gently until their two bodies melded into one, the silk of skin, the softness of breasts all merging into a new being. The feel of warm satin everywhere, on top of her, under her hands, enclosing her was almost too much for Parker as her senses began to short-circuit, a shuddering gasp escaping her lips. She slid her hands along the smoothness of Athena's arms, gripping her shoulders to pull her closer, one hand sliding up to cup one curved cheek, bringing her face down until their lips met.

The kiss was sweet and tentative at first, as they explored each other, both suddenly cautious, aware all at once that this was not something to be rushed. Looking up into Athena's eyes, dark and clouded with desire, Parker finally allowed herself to name that other emotion, that other element that warred with passion to dominate those storm colored orbs. It was love. It was altogether possible that she was falling in love with Athena, just as it was clear that Athena felt something remarkably similar for her.

"You know, it just occurred to me that if I'm going to be screaming your name in the heat of passion....I am going to be screaming your name, right?" Athena began, her finger tracing a pattern on the smooth skin of Parker's chest.

"Loudly and often," Miss Parker answered smugly.

"Good. Now, as I was saying, if I am going to be screaming your name, it would be nice if I knew what your name is, wouldn't it? Somehow, yelling 'Miss Parker, oh, Miss Parker', takes some of the passion and romance out it, wouldn't you agree? So, come on, you're lying here with me, naked and all set to have a very lovely time, tell me your first name," Athena said persuasively.

Parker pursed her lips, clearly considering the request, using the time to slip her hands between them, cupping Athena's breasts in her hands, marveling at the pliable softness of them. As she held them, she could feel the nipples harden against her skin, pressing into her palms, seeming to echo Athena's petition.

"Parker? Don't tell me I have to make this a 'don't tell, don't touch' kind of deal?"

As a seductive smile appeared on her face, Parker leaned forward till her lips were gently caressing Athena's ear. She whispered one word, then none too gently took Athena's earlobe between straight white teeth.

"I think I can remember that. For some reason, I imagined it had to be something unpopular like Bertha or Gertrude. You're just full of surprises, aren't you my dear?" Athena laughed.

"If you're done talking, I'll be happy to demonstrate some of the other surprises I have in mind for you," Miss Parker smiled wickedly.

"You're my guest. By all means, do whatever makes you happy. After all, it is my duty as a good hostess to see to it that my guests are contented and entertained," Athena agreed. Pulling back, she bent her head to run her lips slowly down Parker's chest, circling her left nipple with small, tender kisses, then tracing the curve of the entire breast, the feel of the smooth skin against her lips intoxicating.

Moving back up the outside of the breast, she suddenly took the nipple in her mouth, murmuring encouraging sounds as it grew hard against her tongue. Parker gasped loudly as that warm mouth closed around her nipple, encircling it, sucking gently, coaxing it, and teasing it with tongue and teeth. Athena's hand had come up to Parker's other breast, slender fingers massaging and rubbing delicately against that nipple, careful to not leave it neglected.

Parker brought her hands up to tangle once again in the thick fall of auburn hair, urging Athena closer, her back arching up at the same moment to press her breast nearer to that seeking mouth. Athena appeared to see no necessity to rush, that incredible mouth now moving at a leisurely pace back and forth between Parker's breasts, sucking less gently on her hardened nipples, scraping across them with her front teeth, eliciting soft groans from Miss Parker.

Of their own accord, Parker felt her thighs part wider, allowing Athena's leg to slip between, the warm satin of her skin now just brushing against Parker. Miss Parker pushed up against that strong, yet slender leg, feeling as well as hearing her own voice cry out as Athena's thigh came into contact with her most tender flesh. She could feel the wetness as she moved her hips, pushing up and then back in a slow rhythm, the smooth skin of Athena's thigh quickly becoming slick with moisture. She felt Athena shift her weight, so that her leg was pressed more firmly against Parker, at the same time that Parker raised her left knee, digging the heel of her foot into the bed for traction as she pushed her own thigh tight against Athena's own wet center.

Raising her head from the pleasurable attention she had been paying Parker's breast, Athena braced her hands on either side of Miss Parker, increasing her leverage as she began to move against Parker, her own leg trapped securely between Parker's satin smooth thighs. They began a slow, sultry dance, moving against one another, hips undulating, breath coming in increasingly shuddering gasps, gazes locked. Tilting her head forward, Parker could just reach Athena's breasts, cupping them towards her to take first one then the other nipple in her mouth, her tongue and teeth urgent against the tender flesh.

At the touch of Parker's mouth on her breast, Athena's head fell back, eyes closed in pleasure. Parker opened her mouth wide, taking as much of the breast in as she could, reveling in the feel of the yielding flesh, the nipple still hard under her tongue. After a heavenly eternity, Athena opened her eyes and pulled back a little, determined to fulfill her own agenda.

Bending her head down, Athena captured Parker's lips with her own. This time there was nothing tentative about the kiss. It was sure, full of passion, tongues entwining and enticing, as their breathing grew more and more ragged. It seemed as if they kissed for hours, by turns hungry and intense and at others, incredibly tender, as if trying to convey some of the emotions they were both feeling. All the while their slow, sexy tango continued, speeding up and slowing down but ever constant in its motion.

Finally, their movements increased, the rhythm becoming more and more erratic as both women came closer and closer to that inevitable and miraculous end, that little death that brought purpose to life. Looking down into Parker's eyes, Athena felt her control desert her. She had been trying to keep to herself the increasingly strong feelings she had developed for this woman in the past three days, but now, their bodies molded together, plummeting ever nearer to the edge, Athena found she could no longer hide them from either Parker or herself. There was a certain irony to the fact that just as they both reached that ultimate pinnacle, bodies and minds alike hurled into the burning heart of the sun, Athena saw her own emotions reflected back at her from the fathomless blue depths of Parker's eyes.

All the strength gone from her arms, Athena collapsed against the soft body beneath her, her face buried in the hollow of Miss Parker's neck. Both of them were breathing as though they had just completed the Marine Corps obstacle course. Parker could feel the dampness of both of their skin, the heat from their bodies almost a conflagration.

Rolling over onto her back, Athena lay for a moment, trying to slow her racing heart. One of the nice things about being a goddess was that you got the best of both worlds. Immortality and yet, the ability to truly experience the worthwhile things like this, heart racing, blood pounding and all. Turning her head, she met Parker's gaze, as exhausted smiles stole over both their faces.

"You know, it probably would have been a good idea to do that before you took your bath," Athena laughed.

"I have to say that that was a far nicer way of getting sweaty than trying to get my pajamas on last night."

"That, my dearest, was entirely your own fault. I did offer to help," Athena replied, rolling over on her side and propping her head on one hand.

" True, but you forgot how sweet and innocent I am. I had no idea what your intentions were, Professor, " Parker told her, her face the picture of wholesomeness.

"I don't know how I am going to live with myself, deflowering, as it were, such an pure and virtuous rose," Athena sighed.

"Rested yet?" Parker inquired.

"Why, what did you have in mind?" Athena asked, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

"Well, since you've already corrupted me, I thought maybe we could move on to besmirching and ravaging," Parker drawled enticingly, reaching out to cover Athena's breast with her hand, grazing the hardening nipple with her palm.

"I guess a seductress' work is never done, "Athena despaired, moving close enough to lean over and cover Parker's lips with her own.

Tenderly, slowly, they kissed, hearts and minds and bodies one in this uncertain new world. The kiss went on and on, as they began what would be a day and night long exploration of this new and exotic country they had discovered, every movement, every taste and sound, every murmured endearment buried treasure to two world weary adventurers.

Chapter Six

"Are you sure you'll be all right there?" Athena asked, pulling on a black leather car coat over her cream-colored cashmere turtleneck and tan slacks.

"I'm fine," Miss Parker replied from her spot on the couch, "I have water, I have crackers, and I have the remote. What more could I need?"

"All right. The phone's on the coffee table and I wrote my cell number down on that pad there next to it. If you have any problems or think of anything you want or need, then just call me, ok? I shouldn't be more than two hours or so. I just have to stop at the Post Office and then pick up some groceries," Athena told her.

"Go. I will be perfectly all right," Parker sighed.

"See you in a little while," Athena said from the doorway. She stood there for a moment as if she was going to say something else, then thought better of it, turning and walking towards the outside door.

"Hey!" Parker yelled after her.

"What?" Athena asked, stepping back from the hall into the living room.

"I just thought of one thing I was missing."

Crossing to the couch, Athena stood at the edge of the coffee table. "What do you need?"

For answer Parker reached out and took her hands, drawing her over to the couch and pulling her down so that she sat sideways across Parker's lap.

Laughing, Athena said in mock reproach, " Parker, I have to get going. You kept me in bed till noon. I want to get back here in time to make dinner. Behave yourself."

"Where's the fun in that?" Parker replied, slipping a hand behind her neck and pulling Athena's face to her own. The kiss began softly, a gentle reaquaintance, growing deeper as the minutes passed. Athena finally pulled away, her breath a little short. With a smile she stood up, her hand stroking Miss Parker's cheek.

"I'll be back in a few hours," she told her, walking purposefully to the door.

"I'll be right here," Parker answered, a slight grimace on her face at the thought of being stuck alone on this couch for two hours. She sighed as the sound of a car door shutting and an engine starting carried from the driveway.

She heard the crunch of tires on gravel and resigned herself to two hours of self-amusement. Daytime TV proved to be somewhat of a revelation to Parker. It had been years since she had spent an afternoon sacked out on the couch in front of the boob tube.

She found herself watching with the fascination of an adolescent boy peering through the hole in the girls' locker room wall. The topics on the myriad of talk shows ranged from mothers having sex with their teenaged daughters' boyfriends, to eighteen year old girls and their seventy year old lovers. One show focused on transvestites revealing themselves to the men they had been sleeping with for the past six months, men who miraculously hadn't figured out "Carla" had a few more parts than the average girl.

The topics themselves weren't as shocking as the fact that these people willingly went on national TV and told all their sad and pathetic secrets.

"Actually, the truly sad and pathetic part would be that I have just spent an hours worth of my life watching them," Parker thought disgustedly, turning the TV off. She pulled one of the pillows out from behind her head and settled back, her blue eyes closed, the fatigue brought on by the lack of sleep stealing over her. A decidedly self-satisfied smile crept across her face as she remembered the events of last night.

"If every night is going to be like that, it might be worth it to never sleep again," Parker concluded, as memories of the feel of Athena's hands and mouth and the very imaginative things she had done with them rushed over her.

It took a few seconds for the implications of that thought to fully register in Parker's mind . "If every night..." That made it sound as if she had some plans for the future here, that this was more than it was. And all that it was or could be was temporary, a brief respite of joy in the general anarchy and insanity of her life.

There was simply no way that she could stay here, as appealing as the thought was to her. Her life was too complicated, too unstable. Besides, the Centre would never just let her walk away. As for involving Athena in her life, introducing her to the horrors of her past and present, well, that was out of the question too. Parker already found that she cared far too much for Athena to ever allow her within the demonic grasp of the Centre.

Even staying here like this was putting Athena at risk. Sooner or later the stooges from the Centre would come looking for her and they would find her, of that she had no doubts. Parker had no delusions that her position at the Centre was secure or that her life was in any way sacrosanct. What was that saying, "I serve at the pleasure of the president"? She knew that she existed at the pleasure and whim of the Triumvirate.

A slender tendril of pain made its way through her mind as she recalled what had happened to Thomas. He had been a refuge as well, a point existing outside of the Bermuda Triangle of her past, present and future. He had not accepted that her life could be controlled by others, had not accepted that who she was would be forever tied to that awful place. Parker had clung to those beliefs, a drowning woman holding on for dear life to what had turned out to be a sinking spar.

Her feelings for him had been comprised less of genuine affection and more of gratitude and a deep and overwhelming desire to escape. In the end, they had proven to her that she would never be free, that they owned her body and battered soul. Thomas' lifeless body had been all that was necessary to make their point.

"I won't let that happen again. I won't let them hurt her," Parker thought fiercely. A few more days and she would be healed enough to leave. She had told Sidney and Broots that she was taking a week vacation. As long as she made it back to Delaware by the end of that time, the powers that be wouldn't take notice. She had told Athena that people were on the lookout for her, knowing that constant surveillance of all hospitals in the ongoing search for Jarod, would alert the Centre of her whereabouts. This place was a far cry from the beach at Negril where she was supposed to be relaxing. Parker couldn't risk letting anyone know that she was instead looking for clues about her mother.

The thought of Athena meeting Thomas' ignoble fate hurt Parker only slightly more than the thought of turning her back on this incredible creature and never seeing her again. It seemed almost ridiculous to think that she had only known her for four days. People didn't fall in love in four days. Well, people other than the hillbillies on those horrendous talk shows, that is.

"Four days? It didn't even take you four hours. You fell for her in the front hall when she looked up at you with those amazing eyes and smiled that sexy little grin," she spoke aloud, her voice full of self-mockery.

Parker's maudlin musings were interrupted suddenly by the sound of the front door opening, and the clicking of heels on the polished hardwood floor. She silently cursed herself for leaving her pistol upstairs. She had been so engrossed in Athena that she had forgotten to retrieve it from her room. Instead she reached over and grasped one of her crutches, sliding it down to hold the rubber bottom in both hands, ready to utilize it as a bat if necessary.

"Athena! Athena! Where are you?" A woman's voice sounded from the front hall, echoing up the stairwell.

Before Parker could decide whether or not to respond, a figure appeared in the doorway. Parker recognized her immediately as the woman from the picture in the guestroom. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a perfect French twist, her makeup was flawless, and the lime green skirt and jacket of raw silk she was wearing had clearly cost a king's ransom. She stood, her head tilted to one side, one hand on a shapely hip and regarded Parker for a moment with an intrigued expression in her sapphire eyes.

"Would you like for me to come closer so that you can beat me to death with your crutch?" She finally asked, a decided twinkle apparent in those blue orbs.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble. That way, I don't have to get up," Parker drawled back, still regarding the woman suspiciously.

"Maybe later, after we get to know each other better. I hate to think of being maimed by someone who doesn't even know me. Sorta makes all those years of being obnoxious seem like a waste, don't ya think?" She responded, sauntering across the room to throw herself gracefully into the armchair nearest the window. She crossed long, slender, gorgeous legs, not bothering to adjust the jacket of her suit, which had slipped sideways, revealing creamy white skin and an edging of pink lace.

"Somehow I have a feeling that being obnoxious was its own reward," Parker said, throwing a fake smile at the woman.

"True," she answered, tilting her head back against the cushion, "But it's always nice to be acknowledged for one's work, you know?"

They sat and stared at one another in silence, the only sound the tick-tock of the wooden clock on the mantle. Suddenly, the woman leaned forward, her arms resting on her knees.

"Where is Athena?" she asked, curiosity getting the better of her, "And exactly who are you?"

"She's not here," Parker stated, not offering any further information, "Besides, why should I tell you? I have no idea who you are. It would be bad form to divulge too much to a total stranger."

"A total stranger?" the woman laughed, "Well, this total stranger has a key to this house. A key I have had since the day she bought this place. How long have you known Athena, by the way?"

The woman's very proprietary manner was starting to grate on Parker's nerves. It was bad enough that she had only gotten three hours sleep, but to have to put up with this chipper and annoying little tramp on top of it was too much to take.

The woman must have seen that her last remark had hit home. A faint smirk appeared on her face, and there was a look of definite challenge in her eyes.

"I've always thought that quality is more important than quantity. Don't you agree?" Parker replied, eyes narrowing a bit.

The woman's only response was a brief turning up of the corners of her mouth in what was clearly intended to be a smile but resembled more of a grimace. She stared at the woman on the couch, her foot and leg encased in a cast of white plaster, wondering for the thousandth time when Athena's taste in women was going to improve. She always seemed drawn to the gorgeous but lethal. In the past that had meant a deadly skill with a sword, but apparently, in these more civilized times, a rapier sharp tongue was just as highly valued.

She also wondered exactly how pissed off Athena would be to return and find her new friend transformed into a lizard, or maybe one of those hellaciously ugly cats, the ones without hair. Or maybe a spider. No, wait, Athena had had a rather bad experience with a spider. Well, maybe she would look good as a very large carp, the woman thought, tilting her head again to fine-tune the picture forming in her mind as she stared at Parker.

"Care to share whatever it is your obviously overtaxed brain is working on, or are those little voices in your head scared of strangers?" Parker asked caustically, tired of being stared at with such intense contemplation.

"I was just trying to decide if you'd look better as a lizard or one of those funky hairless cats," the woman answered conversationally, her tone indicating sincere interest in the subject.

"What are you going to do, twitch your little nose and turn me into one? Or is it more along the lines of Jeannie with the nodding head bit? If so, where did you leave your bottle so I can put you back in?" Parker countered, her mood growing worse as the pain in her ankle began to increase.

She wasn't going to think about the pain that had begun to throb in each of her temples. It had been few hours since her last pill and given the way this afternoon was progressing, Parker knew that she should start making rational excuses for killing this woman. Not to mention coming up with a less bloody, albeit infinitely less satisfying, method of killing her than bludgeoning her with the crutch. She doubted that Athena would be too pleased to return home to find that her living room had been transformed into a scene from Homicide.

"I can see why Athena broke your ankle," the woman threw back at her, "I must say I am surprised she showed so much restraint. I would have broken a lot more than that."

"Look, Witchie-Poo, you can sit there and insult me as much as you want, at least until I come over there and beat your skull in, but don't even consider tossing those pathetic little pebbles at Athena," Parker growled menacingly, "If that's the kind of relationship you have with her, then maybe it's time she put some thought into repossessing those keys."

"Witchie-Poo?!"

"If the broom fits," Parker drawled back.

" You're calling me a witch? Just who do you think you are telling me what I can and cannot say about my......," the indignant rant was interrupted by a voice from the doorway. Neither of the women in the living room had heard the car pull up outside or the sound of the front door opening.

"Aphrodite? What are you doing here? I thought you were going to be in Paris for the weekend?" Athena asked, taking in the scene with one swift glance. Parker had a murderous look on her face that was mirrored by the severely vexed expression on Aphrodite's lovely countenance. Athena wondered briefly what might have happened if she had been just five minutes later in arriving. None of the images that came to mind were pretty.

"I was supposed to go for Aldo's preview for his new spring line, but then Marta, his favorite model, refused to wear anything in any shade of yellow, and since that was the signature color for the whole season, well..."Aphrodite began, almost immediately forgetting her disagreement with Parker, breadcrumbs left along the winding paths of her tale of woe.

"Aphrodite," Athena interrupted again, this time rather sharply.

"Sorry," she replied, not looking at all apologetic, "Anyway, I thought that since I didn't have anything else planned I would come and spend the weekend with you. I didn't realize you had a new Gorgon in residence."

Closing her eyes for a moment and breathing deeply, Athena wondered, as she had so many times over the millennia, what it would have been like to be an only child. Her brief reverie was shattered with amazing speed however.

"Too bad I'm not Medusa. This discussion would have been over long ago and I could have gotten back to the intellectual stimulation of Jerry Springer," Parker retorted, "Besides, I think stone would be a lovely look for you. Much better than that baby-puke green."

"Stop it!" Athena said vehemently. "Both of you cease and desist right now. You two are behaving like shallow sorority girls who just discovered they wore the same dress to the formal. I feel certain in saying that you are both far too old for this.

I know you are," she said with a biting tone, looking pointedly at Aphrodite.

"She started it," Aphrodite replied, her face as petulant as her voice.

"Aphrodite," Athena said, her grey eyes flashing an oddly golden light, "Do something helpful for once and go and get the groceries out of the car. You can put them in the kitchen."

"As if!" Aphrodite looked shocked at the suggestion, "I might break a nail."

Athena turned towards Aphrodite, her face completely hidden from Parker as she lay on the couch. Those eyes of pewter took on a brilliant glow as they changed to pools of liquid gold. Aphrodite took a small step back, recognizing instantly that the time for discussion was over.

"Groceries. Kitchen. Got it covered," she said quickly, moving past Athena towards the door.

As she passed her, Athena snaked a hand out and grabbed Aphrodite's arm, pulling her up short for a moment to hiss in her ear.

" Carry them. Even if you have to do it one bag at a time. Carry them."

Aphrodite simply sighed deeply and with a faint nod left the room. The sound of the door shutting behind her just a little too loudly seemed to be her only comment.

Parker had watched the unfolding tableau with interest and not a little jealousy. Whoever this woman was, she and Athena clearly had a history together. And, what was with the name? Aphrodite? The Goddess of Love? Athena was one thing, but what grown woman went around being called Aphrodite?

"I am sorry about that. She can be a true and genuine pain in the ass sometimes, but she means well, and I do love her," Athena sighed, coming over to perch on the edge of the coffee table in front of Parker. She reached out and brushed back a stray lock of deep chestnut hair from Parker's cheek, startled when the other woman pulled away from her hand.

"Well, if you could just help me change into some more appropriate clothes and let me use your phone I will get out of your way and the two of you can have a nice cozy little weekend," Parker said, her eyes and voice dull and cold.

She knew that, in a pinch, Sidney would make the drive from Delaware and pick her up. She would simply stay at the dinky motel in town until he arrived. She knew that she wouldn't be able to drive herself but she had no doubt that Aphrodite would be more than willing to take her in, just to get rid of her.

"Parker, what are you talking about? You're not going anywhere. The doctor said that it would be a good three days before you could try to navigate more than a few yards with that thing," Athena protested, her voice growing softer as she said, "Besides, I thought that you wanted to stay here with me. I thought that after yesterday, after last night....Did I just imagine what happened between us?"

Looking into those troubled grey eyes, Parker felt her resolve slipping. She could see the affection and the hurt that she knew was mirrored in her own expression. The sound of the front door being flung open brought back the reality of the situation however.

CRASH!

The groceries scattered all over the front hall as the bag slipped from Aphrodite's tentative grasp and fell with a resounding thud to the floor. Parker watched as Athena gazed heavenward, her eyes closing for an instant as a noise that sounded distinctly like whimper of pain slipped from her throat.

Sighing deeply, Athena turned to face Aphrodite, who now stood in the doorway, a look of consternation on her face.

"Sorry," she began," I guess you have to get a better grip on them than that. I just got this manicure and it took an hour to find the perfect shade of polish so I really didn't want to mess it up, and besides, aren't you supposed to use those canvas bags for your groceries? All that environmental recycling, save the planet stuff?"

"The bags are made from recycled paper and they get recycled again. I fill them with mulch and they decay naturally," Athena said, as patiently as she could, "Just leave them, I'll do it myself. Do you think you can manage to sit here with Parker and not engage in any more puerile banter?"

"I don't know. Do you think you can get that condescending stick out of your ass?" Aphrodite responded stingingly, "And she did start it. When I came in she threatened me with her crutch."

Parker had reached her threshold of tolerance with the whole situation. The sooner she got out the easier it would be. She could still feel the searing touch of Athena's fingers on her cheek. That, along with the flood of images of Athena's face, flushed and laughing, the memory of how her hands had felt as they mapped every centimeter of Parker's body were a palpable paroxysm that made its way from the center of her chest to the tips of each slender finger. She reached out to grasp her crutches, determined to leave the room.

"If you don't stop acting like a spoiled child, I'll do much more than beat you with a crutch. What is with you?" Athena asked Aphrodite emphatically.

"Well, if you want to know the truth, it hurt my feelings to walk in here and find some strange woman on your couch. I mean, heaven forbid that you tell me that you met someone. Much less that she's living here. I mean, I'm only your sister," Aphrodite said archly, her pose showing her indignation, one hand on a shapely hip.

"If you could manage to stop the social whirlwind that is your life and call me occasionally, then maybe you would know a little more about what's going on in mine," Athena rejoined, her own voice reflecting a trace of hurt at her sister's lack of connection lately.

"Don't try and blame it on me, Sis. I call you. You don't answer the phone. It's not my fault that you decided to become a hermit for the past two or three hundred years," Aphrodite rejoined, righteous indignation evident in her face.

"Aphrodite," Athena said, warning in her voice, shifting her eyes from her sister to Parker. Parker had obviously taken the statement as just a little more hyperbole from Aphrodite, not an actual assessment of time.

In truth, Parker's mind was stuck on just one word. Sister.

"She's your sister ?!" Parker exclaimed in outrage, reaching out to grab Athena's leather clad arm and yanking her close.

"Yes," Athena answered, glaring in annoyance at the person in question, "Let me guess, she didn't introduce herself?"

"Your sister?!" Parker hissed again, her eyes reduced to angry slits of blue.

"Well, I was going to. I would have if she hadn't stared at me like I looked and smelled like a Cyclops or something," Aphrodite offered semi-apologetically, "Besides, I figured she knew.

Who did you think I was?" Aphrodite asked, turning to face Parker, realization dawning as an expression of queasiness curled her upper lip, "You mean that you thought that I...that we....that she and I....?EWWW!"

"I have to second that. Honestly Parker, do you really think so little of me that you actually believed I would be involved with her?" Athena said with a decidedly disparaging look in her sister's direction.

"Hey! You know there are millions of people who would sell their grandmother or even turn Republican for the chance of one night with me!" Aphrodite bewailed, her voice climbing an octave in outrage.

 "You're the one who said 'Eww'," her sister replied, rounding in pique, "Not to sound immodest, but there's never been a shortage of people who would have liked to have graced my bed either, you know."

"Is your entire family this crazy and this vain?" Parker asked, somewhat rhetorically, her expression a trifle bemused.

Both sisters turned to her and in unison replied, "Yes."

"Actually, you lucked out," Aphrodite stated further, "As far as our family goes, we're pretty normal."

Athena simply smiled at Parker fondly, as the humor of the whole situation struck her. The smile turned to a chuckle, the chuckle to a laugh, as her sister joined her in merriment. Parker tried to maintain her air of indifference and her chilly demeanor, but in the face of the laughter of those two gorgeous women, she found a smile creeping uninvited across her face.

"Why do I get the feeling that when you hold a family reunion, you have to apply for a riot permit and issue warnings for public safety?" Parker grinned at Athena and her sister.

"Oh, we've been known to start a war or two over the years," Athena grinned back at her, privately amused at the truth of the statement.

"Just out of curiosity, what's with the names? Athena, Aphrodite? Do you come from a circus family? Let me guess, there's a trained chimp named Apollo?" Parker asked, the smile still touching the corners of her mouth.

"Apollo? No, much too mundane a name for a chimp. No, the chimp's name is Ares," Athena answered, a mischievous and slightly evil glint in her eyes.

Aphrodite's only response was to dissolve into another fit of giggles, as images of their 'dear' brother in chimp form played across her mind.

"Our father was a professor of classics and an archeologist. He had a particular fondness for the Greek gods and so he named us all accordingly," Athena offered in explanation, making certain that her sister was aware of which of the myriad of stories they had told over the centuries she was advancing.

"Now that we have all of this straightened out, I'm going to get the groceries out of the car before everything spoils. I'm assuming it's safe to leave you two alone?"

"I guess Witchie-Poo and I can manage not to do too much damage to each other in the time it will take you to unload the car," Parker said slyly, a not entirely pleasant smile on her face. She was still more than a little annoyed at Aphrodite for her patent deception.

"Yeah, we should be fine, Sis. By the way, do you like lizards?" Aphrodite tossed back, an eerily similar grin on her own face, determined that her sister's new paramour learn the real pecking order.

With a deep and mournful sigh, Athena rolled her eyes and then simply turned her back and walked out of the room, crossing the front hall to slam the door behind her.

TO BE CONTINUED