Rated: G to PG
Disclaimer: The Pretender belongs to NBC and I mean no copyright violation.
Summary: Response to a challenge on the PretenderFic ONElist.
Challenge: Fanfic including the following items: Black silk boxers, Chocolate cake, A reference to the movie Cruel Intentions, Prozac, A Wonder Woman Pez dispenser, Bubble Bath, Dr. Pepper or Coke, and Oreo cookies.
Jarod sat alone in the room he was renting. There was no injustice to make right or mystery to solve. The Centre was off his back for the time being and Sydney and his son actually working on their relationship. For the moment all was right with the world. For now he was safe. And bored…
For was long as he could remember, he’d always had something to do. Either he’d been pretending for Sydney or he’d been trying to think of something so he wouldn’t have to keep pretending. There was one thing that Jarod had never been prepared for at the Centre: Idleness.
To try to fill his time Jarod looked around the room. He spared no more than a passing glance at his personal items. Instead he took a quick inventory: Computer… Picture of Mother… Wonder Women Pez dispenser… spare clothes… a six pack of warm Coke… an unopened package of Oreo cookies… Everything was where it should be…
Jarod continued his visual tour of the room. He could see through the window to the tiny, deserted movie theatre across the street. Apparently it had only gone out of business a short while ago. The marquis still proudly that they were showing “Cruel Intentions.” He’d never seen the movie himself, but Sydney, Broots, and Miss Parker had all seen it. Sydney had said Miss Parker had liked it.
Miss Parker… Jarod’s eyes strayed to the calendar. Today’s her birthday, he thought. I wonder if she’s enjoying it…
“Daddy, I told you. I don’t want a birthday party.” I happen to have a date with some jasmine-scented bubble bath.
“I’m sorry, Angel, but Bridgette has her heart set on throwing you this party. She even ordered you huge cake.” She must not have looked too enthused because her father’s voice was coaxing as he continued. “It’s a chocolate cake.”
“Please, Angel. It would mean a lot to the family.”
Miss Parker sighed inwardly. She hated birthdays but she also hated to disappoint her father. “Oh, all right.”
“Great. Now, it’s at eight-thirty at our place. Why don’t you go home early and get ready for it? The birthday girl should look her best.”
Jarod smiled. He bet she was going to have a party. He liked parties even though he’d only been to a couple and all of them had been since he’d escaped the Centre.
In a way Jarod really envied Miss Parker. She had a family to help her celebrate her birthdays and even her everyday joys. He had never had that and, unless he found his family, he never would.
Jarod pushed away his dismal thoughts as his eyes once again traveled the room. He stopped when he saw his open duffel bag. His cell phone should be in there somewhere. He could call Miss Parker to wish her a happy birthday.
Standing he walked over to the bed where the duffel was. He dug through the bag and didn’t find the phone. He frowned. He searched again and this time found it wrapped up in a pair of black silk boxer shorts. Fitting, he thought wryly. Parker’s the one who told him that he should get a pair of those.
He smiled and then dialed her home phone number.
Miss Parker sighed. She’d had to forgo her long awaited bubble bath for a quick shower so she could be to her party of time. She hated birthday parties, even more than she hated the birthday itself.
Still, she did love to dress up and she was just itching to show off her new black evening dress. It had been a spur of the moment buy brought on by a conversation with Jarod about silk underwear.
Well, she thought as she pulled a robe on, at least I don’t have to spend my birthday chasing after Jarod. He always picks the worse places to hide out when it’s my birthday.
She brushed and styled her hair and then did her make-up. She looked down at her bright red nail polish and grimaced. She was not going to wear that to her birthday party. Grabbing the nail polish remover and doing away with the awful color, she wondered what would look good with her dress.
The black she owned would nearly match, she thought. She made a grab for it and walked into the bedroom. Birthdays called for both finger and toe nails painted.
She had finished both feet and was starting on her fingers when the phone rang. “Miss Parker.”
“Has a birthday today.”
“You sound surprised. I never forget your birthday. Happy birthday by the way.”
“Thank you. You and Broots are the only ones to actually say that to me.”
“Your family forgot?”
“No, they’re throwing me a party.” She set aside the polish and then went into the bathroom. “I hate birthday parties.”
“Who wants to celebrate getting older?” She fumbled through the medicine chest absently thanking the powers that be for fast-dry black nail polish. She knew there was a file back there somewhere. As she moved a box out of the way, she knocked a bottle into the sink.
“I think it’s nice of your family to be thinking of you.”
“Have you ever been to a birthday party?”
Miss Parker picked up the bottle and looked at the label. Prozac…
“How sad,” she murmured.