fandomtownies | The Fourth Sin, Tuesday--OPEN

*Ring*

Yeah, she wasn't going to call. Make something of it.

"Good evening, Fourth Sin. How may I help you?" Jarod muted the television.

"Got any specials on teleporters to England?" Parker asked, keeping her voice light.

He grinned. "Sorry, can't help you. Have you tried down the street at the Seventh Sin?"

Parker snickered, and uncoiled herself on her bed. "I called, and got a recording that forwarded over here. Can you imagine? Too lazy to answer their own phones."

"It's a failing," he chuckled. "Just be glad I didn't send you over to the Fifth. You'd still be yelling."

Parker chuckled at that image, then asked, "How are things with you? I'm definitely not going to see you before Saturday, I think now. And I may not have time to call. So I wanted to check in before I left the country. Also, to ask what souvenirs you wanted."

And because it would be another week before she'd see him, and maybe the stupid crush would have worn off by then, like a bad cold.

"Things are fine," he said, "Sydney says hello, and your chocolate sugar bombs sent Angelo into an episode on the roof. They had to go get him."

"Anything new going on with you, Parker?"

"Heh. Ohh, dear. What a shame. To put all those nice people to so much trouble-- He is okay though, right?"

Parker palmed her face. What a lovely, loaded question. "I got what I wanted, and then decided I didn't want it any more. Probably. Sometimes I am as spoiled as people say I am."

Because she might as well torture herself with how much he didn't care to hear about it. Maybe she'd get over this faster that way?

"Yeah, he's fine," Jarod grinned. "But maybe a little addicted. I think he needs variety. I'm going to send him Pez next."

"Is there some kind of English to Parker translator I should buy? And you're not nearly as spoiled as people say you are."

"Let me know how those go over." Right, stick your finger in the open wound, let it bleed a bit. "I started something with Lee Adama, and it's not going to get finished, I think. It was probably a bad idea to begin with, helped by moonlight, Shakespeare, and vodka. The end."

"Started...something?" Jarod fidgeted, happy that Parker couldn't see him. "Are you dating him? Moonlight, Shakespeare, and vodka? Sounds like a nice night."

"It was." Her voice softened a little. "Really nice. But he's got some serious problems right now. And, well, a girlfriend. Still. So. It's probably a good idea to not take it any farther." At least he didn't sound utterly indifferent. At least Jarod was her friend. "Anyway. I owe you a bedtime story, if you're not too busy at work."

"You deserve better, Parker." Oops. "No, of course I'm not busy."

Great, scoop out my guts with an ice-cream scoop, why don't you? "Thanks. But I knew what I was getting into. So, whatever."

She took a deep breath in preparation, and settled herself back on the pillows of her bed. "Then I'll tell you your bed-time story, even if it's not bedtime yet: East of the Sun, and West of the Moon."

"Don't you get tired of doing this to yourself, Parker?"

Somehow, he didn't think he'd be getting the story tonight.

Parker paused, her breath catching in dread. "Doing what?"

"Jump headfirst into situations that are going to do nothing but end up hurting you." He frowned and turned off the television. "I've never seen it up close before, and I don't understand why you do it."

He suspected it had to do with her mother and father, but there was no way he was going to raise that issue.

"That's not fair. I couldn't know--" Oh, who was she kidding. "I don't know why. Because it seemed worth it, at the time?" Parker pulled up her knees, and perched her chin on them. "Because-- it was overwhelming, like being drunk, and beautiful, and having no fear, and--" And it kept her from thinking of other things. "I don't know why I'm telling you this, I don't owe you any explanations."

"Parker, you're always beautiful, and you're one of the most fearless people I know. You deserve someone you can be with without drinking."

"No, I guess you don't. So why are you telling me? I'm sure there's a priest you could confess to somewhere on the mainland."

"The vodka wasn't why--" Although it probably wouldn't have happened without the alcohol, if she were honest. "And that wasn't what I meant! I meant--" That it hurt to tell him, but she couldn't seem to stop herself, and she'd wanted to hear... something from him, but not that reaction.

"Fine. Forget I mentioned it. Forget I said anything. I have nothing to be ashamed of. I made a mistake, okay, but I'm going to be just fine. And no one else will get hurt, so--" She took a breath. "I should hang up."

"No, you shouldn't." He rubbed his forehead, then did something he almost never did. "I'm sorry, Parker. I just hate watching you do this to yourself. No one else will get hurt, but I care about you, first and foremost."

Which warmed up some part of her that had been freezing to death at the priest crack. "Thanks." Parker swallowed, and closed her eyes. "But I'm fine, you know. And if I screw up-- I should just face it. Life goes on, right?"

"Yeah, it does. Life's a fight to the end, Parker, but you don't have to keep making it so hard on yourself."

"Or do you? What are you punishing yourself for?"

Parker started laughing, because if she'd wanted to punish herself, this situation with Jarod would've been the perfect way to do it....

...and maybe that was it, maybe she still felt bad that she'd had everything, and he'd had so little. And she'd benefitted from it, even if indirectly. Maybe she was pushing herself everywhere else because she didn't have the guts to go to the press, or the FBI, or to tell her father that the Pretender program was wrong, wrong, wrong, and not something to be proud of. She swallowed again, feeling sick.

"I can't talk about this with you."

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