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The Causeway: around midnight, Saturday night

After a talk with Daisy that had gone into a near-fight with Bel, then tapered off into a fairly silly conversation re: Anders' ass, Parker had headed down to her room, and collected a few things: an unsent postcard, a few CD's, a blue Armani shirt, a few photos... Okay. So she left the photos, and locked them in a drawer. She bundled everything up in a set of sheets, and took them downstairs, then walked with Anders out to the Causeway.

The gulls wheeled, and the wind blew harsh as they walked halfway across. There was plenty of light from the full moon, though, and the streetlights that dotted the Causeway. Parker stopped and leaned against the stone barricade that hit just above her waist. "Here."

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Anders peered over the barricade and nodded. "Good spot. Want me to hold the stuff for you?"

Parker nodded, and slipped off her gloves. "Thanks." She handed him the whole bundle, then fished out the postcard, and began to tear it into tiny, tiny pieces.

Anders got a good grip on the bundle and watched the postcard pieces get smaller and smaller. "Any time. You know I'm here for you . . . last night being sort of an exception."

"It's okay, Daisy. Really." Parker shrugged, and when the postcard pieces were only so much white drifting on waves, reached in and pulled out the Armani. She contemplated it a moment, then balled it up, and pitched it out as far as she could. The silk shirt got caught by a breeze, drifted a bit, then finally landed in the water, spreading out and then sinking. "He never even wore that shirt."

Anders picked up one of the CDs from the bundle and offered it to her. "It was a nice shirt," he offered hesitantly. "Did you never get a chance to give it to him, or what?"

Parker swallowed. "I made him buy it in January. And he didn't have a reason to wear it. Then I kept stealing it." She blinked, hard. "So really, it was my shirt, possession being nine-tenths of the law. It was one I kept at his place." She took the CD, opened the case, and cracked it in two. Then threw each piece into the water, with little splashes. "That one, I *was* going to give to him. But he can buy his own damn CD's now."

"His loss, without your taste." Anders couldn't help feeling a slight twinge of sympathy for Jarod, though, as he handed her the next CD. "Is this helping at all?"

Parker stared at the CD, and shook her head, hard. Then contradicted herself by saying, "Maybe?" She opened the case, cracked the next CD, and said, "I was stupid. I think I was waiting for him to say something definite. Like 'it's over.' Or 'it's not over. Or 'I can't forgive you.'" She threw the pieces in the water. "Actions speak louder, with him."

"It's . . . easier, I guess, when you have a definite answer." Anders bit his lip and watched the pieces of CD case drift off on the waves, grateful for the first time that he'd had one, himself. "But if he's just sort of stringing you along that way? Not frakking cool."

Yeah, losing touch with that sympathy with Jarod, now.

"No, there was a break. I gave him back his cat." Parker tugged on the bundle and threw one sheet in the water with jerky motions. "I just-- we never said it, he just disappeared after the one horrible fight, then came back, and it was all wrong." She swallowed hard, then said bitterly, "Or maybe I was kidding myself, I don't fucking know any more, Daisy. Maybe I was the one who missed all the signs and maybe he had to--" Her voice cracked for a bare second, and she swallowed. Then her face turned ugly. "NO, damnit! He could've said it! He could've just said 'I don't love you I don't want to talk to you I don't want to see you I don't ever want to hear from you again!' He didn't have to--"

She grabbed the last sheet and pushed it off the railing, then the handful of CDs and threw them too. "TO HELL WITH YOU, JAROD! YOU BASTARD!"

"We're stupid that way sometimes, us guys," Anders said after a very long pause, loaded with uncertainty. Then, before she could interject, he held up a hand and added, "I'm not excusing him, okay? Just saying. Some of us aren't quite that bad . . . I hope."

"Some of you." Parker made a face, then put her gloves back on, sticking her hands in her pockets as she stared downward into the water, still shaking with anger and cold. "Goddamnit, Daisy. I could write a long list of all you great guys. You and Bridge and Xander and-- hell, Giusseppe was a jerk sometimes, but he was a good guy. Jack's a good guy. Weiss, Broots...." She shook her head, gritting her teeth, eyes wide and dry. "Not the point. I don't care. I don't."

Somehow, Anders wasn't really convinced of that last assertion. "'cause we're not him, huh?"

"Exactly." Parker turned her head to look at him. "No one is ever going to hurt me like this again. Certainly not him." She sighed, relieved. Calmer. "It's a lot simpler, hating someone, isn't it?"

Anders leaned against the barricade again, hands clasped, and very glad to see her calming down. "You'd think, right? Lords know, I've wished I could do that too. But then I stop and think about it, and much as I want to, I don't think I could."

He laughed shortly and picked a pebble up off the causeway, throwing it into the water. "Stupid emotions."

"It takes practice." Parker leaned against the rampart, and watched the pebble fall. "Maybe I can do it because I've hated people before. Michael. Some... people. At home." She sighed. "There's a trick to it, but once you manage it-- oh, it's better. I think I can do it this time." She was quiet a second, then picked up a stone of her own, dropping it over the railing. "I hope so. For as long as I have to."

There was something about how matter-of-factly she said all this that made Anders a little bit uneasy. "That part is something I don't think I can help you with, Parker," he said softly. "'m sorry."

"Ahh, Daisy." She smiled at him, leaning back against one of the streetlights. "It's okay. I hope you never have a good enough reason to hate anyone." Parker took a step toward him, and bumped her arm against his. "And you've done what you could. That's all."

"Yeah, well, to be honest with you I hope so too." Anders laughed and gave her a light nudge back. "Still feel like I could do more, is all. I still feel really bad about calling Bel to get me off, and leaving you guys in that cell all night."

"Seriously, don't." Parker took a breath, coldness replacing all the red-hot hurt and rage of the day. "There was no good way to explain you, and the police might have deported you or kept you indefinitely. They didn't even ask about you, I think your paperwork got lost in the shuffle." She slipped an arm around him, and slowly started walking back. "But next time? Duck. And crawl outta the bar. Okay?"

"Hey." Anders slung an arm around her shoulders as they headed back down the causeway. "You didn't exactly duck and crawl out of there either. And anyway, it was kind of fun."

Quickly, almost as if he was anticipating another thwap across the back of the head, he continued, "As a one-time thing. Next time, I'll duck and crawl out."

Parker snickered, and then said, "You realize, we both think there's going to be a next time?"

"Hey. The way Chad, Zero, and Pippi were carrying on? I think they almost want there to be a next time," Anders replied. "In which case, don't look at me -- you're the manager."

Parker shook her head, and smirked a little. "Yeah. Of a rising rock band on the music scene. With only one arrest so far." She made a face. "Next time I'm staying clear so I can bail everyone out."

They kept talking on their way back, and about the time they hit the grounds, Parker muttered, "Thanks. For coming along. And listening."

Anders grinned up into the sky, and nudged her again. "Okay, next time you're going to have to wear earplugs, 'cause I could have sworn I said 'any time' about five million times by now . . ."

Parker indulged in one of her one-armed hugs, and grinned back up at him. "Shush. Allow me my innate reserve and delusions of complete self-reliance and self-possession, will you?" She let go of him and headed for the doors. "And next time, I'll bring chocolate."

"Mmm, chocolate. Looking forward to that. G'night, Parker." Anders watched her go, then headed for the garage to check up on his glider. It'd been awfully neglected today, really.

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The Causeway: around midnight, Saturday night

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