fandomtownies | The Fourth Sin--OPEN (Tuesday)

After the movies, Parker pushed speed dial #1.

ring

"The Fourth Sin, how may I direct your call?"

"Why don't you have the phone sex line working yet?"

He smirked. "I have a jealous girlfriend who tends to frown on my flirting with other women."

Parker laughed. "Right answer. How are you? Recovered from the weekend yet?" She lay down on the bed and yawned a little.

"Mmmm. You?" He picked up his motherboard and looked at it under the light. "Had an interesting conversation with Marty yesterday."

"Did you now." Parker sat back up, more alert. "Was he helpful?"

"Not yet. You know better than anyone that I didn't have much to tell him."

"Yeah, I know." She studied her manicure. "I didn't tell him much. The same things Angela could have told him, really. I know Marty, he'd push if he thought there was something being hidden, and he can help, I think."

He sighed. "I hope so."

Parker hung her head off the end of her bed, and stared at Esme, peeking out at her from under the edge of the comforter. "I had to tell Angel most of what happened in Delaware and Maine too. He was looking for an excuse to beat you up."

He processed that for a minute. Or attempted to. "Uh, why?"

"He's a doof?" Parker sighed, and fed Esme a carrot. "He's an overprotective aspiring Champion, and when he doesn't have evil to thwart, he goes looking for it? And evidently, he feels like protecting me. From what, I don't know."

"He thinks I'm evil? Parker, what have you been telling people?"

"No, no. He's just bored, and hoping you're evil. He's two weeks from graduation and he's killing time. It's not personal to you, Jarod."

Parker was about to tell Jarod that Angel had given Anakin the same speech, probably, when she remembered why it wasn't a good idea to explain that.

"He looks for evil when he gets bored?" Actually, that didn't sound like a terrible idea. "He knows I'm not evil, though, right? Just to clarify."

"I've told him, I think Isabel said she's told him, I'm sure Callisto told him, he's just... Angel. There's a reason I keep thwapping him on that thick head to get the fact through." Parker started to grin. "You are way, way smarter than he is."

"Thanks, I think. But, um, isn't he a vampire? I'd think that would give him an advantage."

"I'm not setting you up for a cagefight with him. Just trusting that you can say the right thing to not give him a reason to be stupid. Er." Parker shook her head. "Anyway, at the Sin, Miho can be your back-up, and he can't do anything at Caritas, and... I'm not making this better, am I?"

"Not really," he chuckled, "So how are finals going?"

Parker flopped back onto the bed with a whimper. "The antithesis of fun, that's how. We just had a break in the common room, watching Rohde Muhle to de-stress. God, I can't wait 'til these things are over." She sighed, then curled around the phone. "Soooo, after I'm done studying this weekend. Can you think of any way to be very, very nice to me?"

"I may have an idea, or two." Which was a big lie at that moment, but he had four days to come up with something.

"Lovely. Angela gave me an idea of something nice to do for you." Parker laughed softly. "You just have to tell me what kind of music you're enjoying this week."

"I've been listening to a lot of Country and Western this week. I have some questions."

Parker blinked. "Okayyy... shoot."

"Why are singers so preoccupied with their pickup trucks? And why are women comparable?"

Parker started laughing so hard that Esme quit hiding, and came out to stare at her. "Hee... I don't know. It's a thing. Maybe because pickup trucks are freedom? Or because they need lots of attention? Ask a C&W singer. They like their metaphors nearly as much as Professor Tick does."

"Is it true that the only loyalty to be found is from a dog?" He stared at M, who was busily gnawing on computer cables. "M's pretty loyal."

"It's a cliche, and I don't agree with it either. Esme's loyal, and no one ever writes her songs." Parker grinned, and flopped over on her back. "Country and Western lyrics follow a formula, I know that. Dogs, trucks, guns, women, alcohol. The simple things in life. Except for women."

Jarod now had an idea for what he could do for Parker--or at least part of an idea, anyway. How hard could it be to write a song? "So, what was Angela's suggestion?"

"The suggestion is now made more difficult because you're listening to C&W. And I'm not square-dancing with you." She stretched. "A dance. For you. I can't do a candy mosaic or draw well enough for it to be interesting, but you know I can dance."

Oh. Well. "I can pick a different kind of music," he said, immediately.

Parker laughed again. "No, I can do this. Look on it as a challenge. Unless you have something particular in mind?"

Something slow and sultry...he cleared his throat and moved M away from the cables before she electrocuted herself. "Ow. Stop that," he chuckled as she gnawed on his hand, "Sorry. Um, no, I'm sure whatever you come up with will be...~~mindblowing~~ fine."

"Not that you have to do anything," he rushed to add.

"M giving you a hard time?" Parker grinned, and picked up Esme, cuddling her close. "I could maybe have something ready for critiquing-- this weekend? Maybe Saturday?"

"And I know I don't have to do this. That's what makes it fun." She lowered her voice, let it go softer. "Although I may ask for a favor from you in return, you know. "

"She's a cat," Jarod said, as if that explained everything. Hey, everyone always said that to him, so it probably meant something. "Saturday's good. Whole weekend's open."

"A favor?" He lowered his voice to match hers, "what kind?"

"Yay. And..." She paused, feeling a little ridiculous. "I was just wondering, if, maybe, given enough time? You could possibly write me a song?" Yeah, because that doesn't sound needy or insane. "Just to see what you'd come up with, it doesn't have to be romantic or anything."

And now he was wondering if there was a psychic connection between them. "No laughing. Do you have a genre preference?"

Parker relaxed, and lay back on the bed. "Dealer's choice. Since it's your first one. I assume?" She sat back out. "Or have you written a song before?"

"No songs. Seems musical talent isn't believed to be a Pretender bonus." He grinned. "I think people were wincing. And not because I was purposely singing off key, or anything. Because I would never do that."

"Never, ever." Parker chuckled. "Another example of their whacked priorities. So, mercy will be shown for the nouveau songwriter. If it doesn't hurt to hear it on the piano or guitar, I'll be satisfied. I promise." She hugged herself. "And I swear, you'll like the dance."

"No pain," he made a note, "and I'm sure I will. After all, I love the dancer."

"Thanks for agreeing to this." Parker paused. "And since I'm in love with the songwriter, that does make things easier, doesn't it?"

"Unless I'm really bad and you have no one to vent to but the cat..."

Parker snickered. "No time limit. Okay, by the end of next month? And I'll vent to Esme, if I have to. M won't care anyway."

The Fourth Sin--OPEN (Tuesday)

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