After Tess 3 – Unfinished Business

By Karen

Email: Omarsfan1@aol.com

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Thanks for letting me borrow! I promise I returned them undamaged!!

Summary: Old enemies wreak their final revenge

Category: Everyone

Author’s Notes:   Feedback always appreciated!  Enjoy!

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Part One

Kyle Valenti heaved a frustrated sigh and fell back on his bed.  Arms outstretched at his sides, he looked up to the ceiling and tried to catch his breath.  The early afternoon sunlight was streaming through his curtains and set his room in a rather stark light.  Kyle felt the mattress move and looked up to see Isabel Evans climbing from the bed.

Isabel quietly retrieved her clothing from the floor and went about getting dressed.  Kyle watched her, his lips turned downward in a frown.  How long was it going to be like this?  Another session of heavy breathing and another cold shower for Kyle.

“You don’t have to go,” he said once he’d caught his breath.

Isabel turned to him, her long blond hair swinging with the motion.  Her dark eyes were sad, regretful.  “Yeah, I do,” she said as she looked down to buckle her belt.

Kyle sat up on one elbow, pulled the sheet over his nude body.  “Isabel, it doesn’t have to be like this.”

She bent to retrieve a shoe.  “It does,” she said quietly.

He sighed and reached for her wrist, pulled her back down to the bed.  She sat cautiously, didn’t meet his gaze.  “I love you, Iz,” he said gently, touching her hair.  “I want to make love to you.”

“I know you do,” she replied, still looking at the floor.  “But you know why we can’t.”

Kyle snorted.  “I don’t buy that alien mumbo jumbo,” he announced.

Isabel looked at him, incredulous.

“I know the theory,” he continued.  “The whole once-we-mate-we’re-connected crap.  Well, I don’t buy it.”

“And why don’t you buy it?” Isabel asked, her eyes wide with wonder.

“Because I banged-“  Kyle stopped, measured his words.  Sometimes he forgot that Isabel wasn’t like the other girlfriends he’d had.  Isabel was a lady.  “Because I made love to Ava many times, Iz.  And when Nicholas was working the voodoo on me, I didn’t notice that she was writhing in pain anywhere.  As a matter of fact, she’d hitch-hiked her way almost all of the way back to Vegas at that point.  So if the whole mating thing were true, that once you mate with a human you’re bound for life, then why wasn’t she almost dead when I was almost dead?”

Isabel had a theory on that one.  In order for the union to hold true, the two participants needed to have an emotional bond.  She didn’t think Kyle and Ava ever loved one another.  Not that she could voice that opinion.  So she stared at the floor again.

Kyle touched her hair.  “Is that it?” he asked gently.  “Are you afraid to be bound to me for any length of time?”

Isabel’s head jerked up at his words.  “That couldn’t be farther from the truth,” she protested.

“Then what is it?  Do you not find me attractive?  Are you scared?”

She nodded.  “Yes, I find you attractive.  And yes I am scared.”  She gave a frustrated sigh.  “When I think about what you’ve already been through – first with Tess and then with Nicholas – I just…I just couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.”

Kyle sat up and put his arm around her shoulders.  “Don’t you think we’d be stronger together?”  He kissed the side of her head.  “I want to be like you,” he said against her ear.  “I want to be one with you.”  He kissed her jaw, thought he could feel her resolve dwindling.

Abruptly, Isabel stood up, mumbled, “I’m sorry, Kyle” and left his room.

Kyle groaned aloud and fell back on the mattress again.  His ceiling needed painted.  He rubbed his hands over his eyes and tried to push his raging hormones to the back of his mind.  It had been like this many nights – in the back of his mustang at the drive in, in Isabel’s room, here in his room where Tess once slept.  But the outcome had always been the same – Isabel leaving in some dramatic fashion.  Kyle’s brow furrowed.  Maybe that was it – maybe Iz was a drama queen.  He gave a sarcastic giggle.

He knew that she wanted to take the next step as much as he did.  The body didn’t lie, and hers was sending out signals like a homing beacon.  She was driving him mad.  But he knew he would wait for her.  He didn’t have any choice.  He loved her.

“I am so freaking bored.”

Liz Parker looked up to regard Maria Deluca, her best friend, as she leaned on the Crashdown counter.  “You’re bored?” Liz asked.  “You could try working off some of that boredom.”

“You know what I mean,” Maria whined.  “Work, school, work, school.  See the boyfriend each night.  I hate routine, Liz, and I have become the queen of routine.”

Liz giggled until she snorted.  “You made a rhyme, Maria.”

Maria placed her hands on her small hips.  “You aren’t taking me seriously.”

The door to the Crashdown opened and the bell chimed in its wake.  In walked Max Evans, handsome in his black leather jacket.  Liz’s face immediately broke into a wide grin as she watched him approach the counter.

“Speaking of boring,” Maria yawned, received a threatening glance from Liz.

Max slid onto one of the stools at the counter and regarded Liz with a small smile.  They stayed there for an eternity, just smiling at one another.  Maria looked from one to the other as if she were watching a tennis match, waiting for one of them to move.  Finally, Max mouthed the word “Hi” and Liz repeated his action, then they resumed their staring.  Maria rolled her eyes and disappeared into the kitchen.

“What’s her problem?” Max asked.

Liz glanced over her shoulder.  “Apparently she’s the Queen of Routine.”

Max laughed.  “The what?”

“She’s bored,” Liz explained.  “And apparently we bore her the most.”

Max leaned across the counter and gave her a slow kiss.  “She’s not bored with us,” he told her, his face only inches from hers.  “She’s jealous because we have the perfect relationship.”

Liz laughed.  “Yeah, that must be it.”

Max took the opportunity to glance down the V-neck of Liz’s waitress uniform.  “What time do you get done?” he asked her cleavage.

“Not soon enough,” she told him and giggled.

Max looked back to her face, his ears reddening.  “Sorry,” he mumbled.  “It’s just that you’re wearing that black lacy thing and…”

“It’s called a bra,” Liz whispered, laughing.

He laughed in embarrassment.  “Well, you know the black lacy thing is my favorite.”

She feigned surprise.  “It is?  I had no idea.”  She glanced around to make sure no one was nearby then trailed one of her fingers down her chest and “accidentally” popped the top snap of her uniform.  “Oops!” she exclaimed quietly.

Max’s eyes bulged and he swallowed hard.  “Okay,” he said.  “You need to stop that.”

Liz leaned over the counter, giving him a full view and whispered in his ear, “You know, I’m wearing the matching panties, too.”

Max withdrew, his dark eyes round.  “Had your break yet?” he asked nervously.

Liz nodded.  “It’s a bitch, isn’t it?”  Behind her, the cook rang the order-up bell and Liz snapped to attention.  “That’s mine.  Excuse me.”  She re-snapped her uniform as she went to retrieve her tray.

Max watched her go, knew it would be awhile before he could stand up without embarrassing himself, and wondered when it was that his little love had become such a tease.

Michael Guerin looked into the vat of mashed potatoes, his expression one of utter confusion.  Using a spatula, he smoothed the pan of potatoes, closed his eyes and flipped the spatula over.  Using the end of the handle, he traced in the potatoes once again.  He opened his eyes.  It was the same symbol.

But what did it mean?

Michael gave a frustrated growl and distorted the image in the spuds once again.  He returned to the grill just in time to keep a burger from being burnt rather than well done.  He hated when this happened – every now and then, an image would come to him, something from his past.  And he’d draw it everywhere.  At first it had been that damned Atherton dome, but many smaller images had taken its place over the last few years.  And he’d been able to explain none of them.

The latest had come to him in a dream a few nights before.  Out of nowhere.  Like God was teasing Michael again – here’s the carrot, donkey, let’s see if you can follow it somewhere.  But the carrot never led anywhere.

It wasn’t fair.  This didn’t happen to Max.  Or Isabel.  Only Michael seemed cursed with these ambiguous visions.  He frowned as he slid the hamburger patty onto a toasted bun.

About that time, Maria burst through the door, her full lips pursed into a pout.  Michael heaved a sigh, tossed another patty onto the grill.

“What now?” Michael muttered as Maria came to stand by him.

“Max and Liz, that’s what,” she spat.

“What about them,” he replied, his tone flat and giving no indication he’d actually asked a question.

Maria hesitated.  “Michael, could you at least look at me when I’m talking to you?”

He did look at her, his expression showing he was only tolerating and not enjoying her company.

“Don’t look at me that way,” she warned, but managed to keep from pointing an accusing finger at him.  “They’re out there again,” she whined.  “Staring at each other.”

Michael shrugged.  “So?”

“So?”  Maria gave a disgusted snort.  “So I’m bored and I’d rather have something else to do other than watch Max and Liz fawn over each other.”

Michael stared at her, didn’t blink.  After a few moments, she began to squirm, then looked away, shifted her weight.  Finally she glanced at him.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice low.

“Staring at you.”

“Why?”

He shrugged and flipped the latest patty.  “Just trying to see what the fascination is with staring.  I mean, it makes Max and Liz pretty happy.”

Maria stopped, watched him as he unhappily tossed dressings onto the burger he’d removed from the grill earlier.  She hadn’t noticed that Michael wasn’t happy.  The more she thought about it, she realized she hadn’t noticed that they weren’t happy.  But obviously Michael had.

Maria reached over and took his hand.  He looked at her, startled by her sudden display of affection.  “Let’s get out of here,” she suggested quietly.

“My shift doesn’t end until nine,” he replied.

She shook her head.  “Not out of here.  Not now.  I mean, let’s go away somewhere, Michael.”  She bit her lip, her gaze softening.  “We’re drifting, Michael.  We need to be alone for awhile.”

He studied her for a moment, then nodded.  She was right.  They were drifting, they did need to be alone for a change.  But he knew if he went anywhere with her right now, the image of that symbol would just follow them and haunt him until their get-away became a disaster.

Liz peeked through the kitchen window and spied Maria in a somewhat heated conversation with Michael.  She sighed and moved for the garbage can.  Part of her was happy that Michael was entertaining Maria’s angst, but another little piece of her was pissed that she once again was on garbage detail.  She hoisted the heavy bag out of the can, tied it, then pushed open the back door.

In the alley, she lifted the lid to the dumpster and heaved the bag inside.  It gave a satisfying clang of bottles and cans and Liz turned to re-enter the café’s back door.  Before she had taken two steps, however, someone grabbed her arm and whirled her around.

She nearly screamed until she saw Max behind her, his forefinger over his lips in the universal sign for “Be quiet.”  She giggled as he pulled her behind the large dumpster and kissed her passionately.  She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and reveled in the smell of him, a smell of leather and cologne and Max’s own scent.  He pulled away and trailed his fingers down the V-neck of her uniform.  Lightly, he ran his fingers beneath the very edge of her black lace bra.  She looked at him questioningly and he smiled at her.

His other hand unsnapped the bottom button of the uniform and slid inside to find her matching lace panties.  She gave a little gasp and looked at him in surprise.  But he smiled wider and gave a soft hushing sound to quiet her.  Soon she could no longer ignore the motions of his hand and closed her eyes to savor the sensation.  He was full of surprises and he had taken her totally off guard.

Maria thought Max Evans was boring.  As Liz felt the shockwaves start to tremor through her body, she realized there wasn’t any more incorrect assumption in the world.

Part Two

Michael suddenly jerked away, his heart hammering in his chest.  Like the many previous nights, he breathlessly grabbed the pen and pad of paper he kept by his bed and flipped on the light.  Squeezing his eyes shut, he retraced the symbols from his dream.  When he thought he’d written down as many as he could remember, he dropped the pad to the floor and flopped back on his bed.

When was this going to stop?  This was by far the worst period of random visions he’d ever been subjected to.  And there appeared to be no end.  Desperate, he tried to remember the circumstances of the dream.

He’d been in the desert.  But not a flat desert – a desert with rock formations and…gates?  In the dim light of the room, Michael’s brow furrowed.  He’d seen them clearly – gates or fences or something.  Big fences, almost like those around a prison, only minus the razor wire.  It was the first time in all of his symbol visions that he’d seen a man-made object.  And they had definitely been man-made; they were too familiar to have been from another world.

Heaving a sigh of frustration, he pushed himself from the bed and walked to his small bathroom.  He ran his hands under the faucet and splashed cool water on his face.  Something was definitely different about these visions.  Maybe it was time to talk to Max and Isabel about them.

“Which one – the purple or the red?”

Liz held the sweaters beneath her chin one at a time, looked up to regard her shopping partners when she received no response.  Maria was looking at the ceiling, her head cocked in a somewhat annoyed stance, and Isabel stared at the floor.  It was an unusual sight – no one liked shopping more than Isabel and Maria and here they both were, not interested.

“Guys,” Liz said, rattling the hangers to get their attention.  “Red or purple?”

“Red,” Isabel said.

“Purple,” Maria answered.

Liz sighed and put both sweaters back on the rack, picked up a black one instead.  Max liked black.  She smiled to herself and circled the rack.  She fanned through the sweaters, then noticed that neither of her friends had moved.  “Do you guys want to shop somewhere else?” she asked.

“No,” Maria and Isabel answered together.

“Okay, well, do you still want to shop here?”

“No,” came the mutual reply.

Liz’s slim shoulders sagged and she put the black sweater back on the rack.  “Okay, then, let’s go.”  She turned on her heals and started to walk to the parking lot.  She didn’t turn around to see if they were following her, but she could hear the clack of Isabel’s boots on the highly polished floor tile and knew they were back there.

Outside, she climbed into the passenger seat of Maria’s Jetta and waited patiently for the other two girls to join her.  Isabel climbed in the back, her long legs bent too drastically to be comfortable.  Liz considered asking her if she wanted to swap spots, but for some reason found it hard to make small talk.  Something was up with her friends.

Maria started the car and they silently started to journey back to the Crashdown.  Halfway there, she let out a frustrated “Fuck it” and whipped the steering wheel of the Jetta hard to the right.  Liz grabbed for the door to steady herself as Maria pulled the car to a stop in front of the ice cream store.  Isabel was out and moving for the take out window before the car had fully stopped.  Liz watched in amazement as both normally-weight-conscious women ordered large sundaes with the works.

The trio perched at a small round table, Maria and Isabel both shoveling ice cream silently.  Liz picked daintily at her cone, watched in disbelief at the display before her.  After a few moments, Maria sat back and held her stomach.

“I think I’m gonna spew,” she said, her face contorting into a grimace.

Liz laughed.  “Okay, you guys wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Isabel stopped shoveling ice cream and looked at her in confusion.  “What do you mean?”

“What do I mean?” Liz echoed, laughing.  “Neither of you wanted to shop – I’ve never seen that happen.  And now look at you.”  She pointed to Isabel’s half-empty bowl.  “Do you even realize what you just ate?”

Maria looked down into her bowl.  “I think I’m gonna spew,” she repeated.

Isabel sighed and pushed the rest of the sundae away from her.  With the rough paper napkin, she dabbed the corners of he mouth in a lady-like fashion.  She looked at Liz, then at Maria.  “It’s Kyle,” she said softly.

Both of the other girls watched her intently.

“What about Kyle?” Liz asked gently.

Isabel looked at the tabletop, at the ground.  “It’s kind of embarrassing.”

Maria plopped her spoon into the mass of melting ice cream and chocolate sauce in her bowl.  “We’re sisters now,” she said, one hand still clutching her stomach.  “There is no embarrassment among us.”

Isabel smiled.  “Yeah, you’re right.”  She sighed.  “He wants to have sex.”

Both Maria and Liz stared at her, waiting for her to disclose the problem.  After a few moments in awkward silence, it occurred to Liz that Kyle wanting sex was the problem.

“And you don’t want to?” Liz asked.

Isabel shook her head.  “No, I want to, it’s just…”  Her voice trailed off and she sighed again.  “It’s the whole bonding thing.”  The other girls were staring at her silently again.  “That whole thing about if one of us gets hurt, it hurts the other one.”

Liz remembered those encounters with Max.  When she’d been kidnapped by Rath and Lonnie and was on the brink of death, Max had felt her pain.  But the worst had been when Nicholas had returned and had taken Liz and Isabel hostage.  Liz was very much on her way out of this world and while she was going she was dragging Max right along with her.  Max hadn’t even had the strength to heal her – it had taken both him and Isabel to restore Liz.

Liz’s brow furrowed as she realized they had no proof that the connection worked the other way.  Max had never been injured or in imminent danger, so she wasn’t sure if he were hurt if it would affect her also.  Maybe it was a one-way street.

“So you’re afraid that Kyle will be hurt in some way by being connected with you?” Maria was saying when Liz rejoined the conversation.

Isabel nodded her head solemnly.

Liz shook her head.  “Max used to have that problem, too,” she recalled.  “Until I reminded him that it wasn’t his decision to make.”  Isabel watched her curiously.  “It’s not your decision, Isabel.  If Kyle knows the risks and wants to make love to you anyway, isn’t that his choice?”

Isabel looked down at the table.  “Yeah, I guess.”

Liz gave her a little smile, then turned her attention to Maria.  “Now, what’s your problem?”

Maria tossed a hand in the air.  “What else?  Michael.”

“What this time?” Isabel asked, her tone flat.  She was somewhat tired of Maria and Michael’s fight of the week.

“He has no time for me,” Maria complained.  “I mean, I know we’re both busy, but even when we’re together he shows to interest.  Be happy Kyle wants sex, Isabel, you could be in my shoes.”

“Did you ask him why he doesn’t want to?” Isabel asked.

Maria shrugged.  “He’s tired.  He’s busy.  He has a lot on his mind.”  She looked to Liz.  “Why doesn’t this happen to you and Max?  I mean, you work, Max works, you go to school, Max goes to school.  You never have any privacy, but I don’t hear you bitching you never get any loving from him…”  Maria’s voice drifted off as she remembered Max being in the Crashdown the day before and the way that he and Liz had stared at one another.  “Oh, God.  Are you two doing it in public places?”

Liz let out an embarrassed laugh and kept licking her ice cream cone.

Isabel stole a sharp glance at her, her mouth hanging open.  “Now I’m gonna spew,” she said as she pushed herself from the table.  “I don’t want to know these things about my brother.”  With that, she walked over to the bulletin board to check out the local happenings.

Maria watched her go, then let out a loud hoot of laughter.  “You are, aren’t you?” she accused good-naturedly.  “You and Max are doing the freaky deaky somewhere at the Crashdown, aren’t you?”

Liz shrugged, smiling and continued eating the cone.

“Tell me where,” Maria laughed.

Liz shook her head.

“Come on,” Maria begged.  “You’re talking to a girl who gets no adventures.  Tell me.”

Liz wiped her mouth.  “The alley,” she said, avoiding Maria’s gaze.

Maria’s mouth was agape.  “The alley?”  She withdrew.  “You did it in broad day light in the alley.”

“Well, not really it, if you know what I mean.”  Then she snorted a little laugh.

Maria thought for a moment, then her blue eyes brightened.  “Oh, I get it.  Man, that Max is a kinky one.”  She looked off for a moment, considering that she may have been wrong about Max’s boringness. 

Liz tossed the remainder of her cone into a trash can.  “Look, Maria, give Michael a little space.  He’ll come around.  I know he loves you.  Maybe he just needs a breather.”

Maria studied her silently.  She didn’t want to give Michael a breather.  She wanted some attention from him, not a lot – just enough to reassure her he did truly still love her.

Revenge.

Such a small little word with such big implications.

She stood absolutely motionlessly looking out the window onto the little tourist trap that was Roswell, New Mexico.  Her heart was filled with one emotion and one goal only – revenge.  If she’d had a soul, that would have been corrupted as well.  Once, on her planet, she’d been a mighty warrior, a leader of her people.  Now, here on this wretched planet, she was just some alien being waiting for her life to unceremoniously expire.

There was no way home.  That was evident now.  The only way home, the granilith, had been squandered.  What infuriated her most was that she had been transported to earth by someone who had known full well that her only mode of return was being destroyed shortly after her arrival.  She’d been set up, plain and simple.

Of course, Nicholas had fallen slightly off course in his final days.  He hadn’t been in possession of his full faculties.  But when he’d made the decision to bring the new troops to earth, he’d known exactly what was to happen – if Tess couldn’t get the original Royal Four to leave earth, then they were to go about killing them.  She knew that somewhere deep down Nicholas had been aware of Tess’s treachery, that she could potentially betray them and they would be stuck here.  But he hadn’t cared.  All he cared about was his blasted Vilandra.

She frowned, a humanoid reaction that still felt somewhat foreign to her, as she thought of the chain of events that followed.  Nicholas had descended into madness and he and his appointed guard had been cut down by the earth-bound incarnations of Vilandra, Zan and Rath.  But they’d also had help…

No one on the home world would believe that the royal four had bonded with humans, were living more as humans than Antarians.  But she had seen it with her own eyes, hiding in the shadows as Nicholas and his guard were out-witted.  She remembered cowering in the shadows, alone, wondering where the rest of the troops were, waiting for the small gathering of humans and Antarians to spot her and kill her as well.  But they hadn’t even looked her way.  They had embraced, joyful, and returned to their pathetic, boring, teenage lives.

Did they really believe that Nicholas had only imported one skin to earth to help him retrieve Vilandra?

In the panic-stricken days that followed Nicholas’s demise, she had quietly rounded up the troops, tried to reassure them that they could find a way out of this without his guidance.  But the more she probed, the more she realized they were stuck here.  Just waiting for the fifty years to expire and for their skins to deteriorate, exposing them to the earth’s atmosphere and turning them into piles of dust.

And that’s when it had begun.  There was an almost physical lump inside of her gut that grew every day.  Inside that bulge, she harbored hatred for the royal four, who had caused her death without even knowing they’d done so, and the overwhelming need to seek her revenge upon them, to settle some unfinished business.  She wanted them dead, all of them.

And her plan had already been set into motion.

Part Three           

Max looked at the pad of legal paper that had been kept by Michael’s bed.  He fanned through the pad, found that many of the pages were filled with similar if not the same image, page after page.

Isabel was perched beside him on Michael’s worn couch, her face a mask of concern.  Michael was pacing the floor, running a hand through his lengthening hair repeatedly.

Max gave a little sigh and put the pad down on the coffee table.

Michael stopped in his tracks.  “So, what do you think?”

Max put his hands together, matching fingertip to fingertip and looked down at the floor.  He didn’t know what to think.  None of the symbols were familiar.  “I don’t know, Michael.  What do you think it means?”

Michael flopped down hard in the chair and slouched.  “I don’t know.”  He rubbed a hand wearily across his forehead.  Many nights without sleep were starting to catch up with him.

Max exchanged a worried glance with Isabel.

“Have you seen these symbols in any other of your visions before the past few weeks?” Max probed.

Michael shook his head.  “That’s what’s so odd about it.  They seem so real, yet so…foreign.”  He looked to Isabel.  “What about you?”

She studied him for a moment, then picked up the pad and leafed through it.  As the pages passed, she noted that Michael’s penmanship seemed to become more manic, more desperate.  “I’ve never seen them before either, Michael.”

A heavy silence weighed in the small apartment.

“What about the cave that River Dog took you to?” Michael suggested to Max.  “Do you remember these symbols from there?”

Max glanced at the pad, shook his head.

Michael gave a defeated sigh.  “Look, I know they mean something.  I just don’t know what.”  His tone sounded almost defensive.

Max’s expression softened.  “I’m sure they do, Michael.  But right now we don’t have enough clues to figure out what they’re trying to tell us.”

“So, what do we do?”

Max shrugged.  “Not much we can do.  I guess we wait until we get something a little more solid.”

Michael shook his head.  “I can’t take this much more, Maxwell.  I can’t eat.  I can’t sleep.  My girlfriend thinks I don’t like her.  This is ruining my life.”

Isabel reached over and put a hand on Michael’s arm.  “You need a break,” she suggested.  “Why don’t you call off work tonight, have Maria over for a little bit of private time?”  Even though Isabel had tried to distance herself from Maria and Liz’s conversation at the ice cream store, she had still overheard Maria’s complaint about Michael’s behavior of late.  “Maybe with Maria as a distraction, you’ll be able to get some sleep.”  She smiled, a full, glamorous, cover-girl smile.

Michael looked to Max.

“It might not be a bad idea,” Max confirmed.  “Maybe if you clear your mind, get some rest, the visions will become more clear.”

Michael thought for a moment, then relented.  “Okay.  But the first moment I figure out what this means, I’m calling the two of you – no matter what time of day or night.”

Kyle looked up from his magazine when Isabel entered the Crashdown.  He gave her a happy smile and watched her slide her lithe body into the seat across from him in the booth.

“Hi,” he said, his eyes wrinkling at the corners with his smile.

“Hi,” she repeated and reached for one of his hands.  “What are you reading?”

He held up the magazine.  Spin.

“Anything good?” she asked.

“Well, appears that Guns and Roses denied Slash access at their last gig.  Stopped cold at the door.”  He gave a little laugh.

“Sucks to be him,” Isabel laughed with him.  She then cleared her throat and looked at the formica tabletop.  “Kyle, about the other day –“

He held up his free hand.  “Please, don’t explain.  I understand.”

She gave him a gentle smile.  “Let me finish.  I don’t want you to get the wrong impression.  I do love you and I do want to be with you.  But I’m just not ready.”  She looked at their intertwined hands.

Kyle watched her silently, gave her hand a gentle squeeze.  “I know that, Isabel.”  She looked up at him.  “And I will wait.  As long as it takes.  You take your time.  I’m not going anywhere.”

She gave him a full smile, relieved that he wasn’t taking her reluctance as total rejection.

“I know it will happen someday,” he continued.  “I can be a patient guy until then.  Because something tells me it will be worth the wait.”

Isabel thought about Kyle’s other conquests.  Although she knew none of their names, she knew that Ava had not been his first.  Kyle would be Isabel’s first.  It was comforting that she would be with someone with some experience.

“So, what do you want to do?” he asked as he sat back in the booth, causing their hands to separate.

“What do you mean?”

“Tonight,” he clarified.  “I mean, I know nookie is out of the question.  So what non-nookie activity would you like to partake in?”

Isabel laughed, a full, out-loud laugh and realized that only Kyle could elicit such a response from her.

Maria expression was one of pure suspicion as she sat perched on Michael’s old couch.  She watched him bustle around the small kitchen, making them dinner.  He’d phoned out of the blue, said he was staying home, would she like to have dinner together?  The way she saw it, something had to be up.

Michael jerked open the refrigerator, let out a little groan.  “I don’t have any of that soda you like,” he called, still bent at the waist and peering into the depths of the fridge.  “I have some Pepsi, some Snapple.”

“Snapple is fine,” Maria said, her eyes fixed on his butt.

He stood up and turned to face her; her eyes immediately snapped to his face.  “I could run to the carry-out and get you something different,” he offered.

She wrinkled her nose.  “No, that’s fine, Michael.”  She watched him return to the stove, wondering how she could ask him what was up without it being obvious she thought something was up.  She got up from the couch and slid onto one of the stools at the bar.  “Can I help with something?” she offered.

Michael shook his head and retrieved some plates from the cupboard.  “Nope, you just sit right there.”

He placed a plate of steaming pasta before her, then slid onto the stool beside hers.

Maria looked down into the plate.  Italian food was her favorite.  He’d been willing to run to the store to get her favorite beverage.  She turned wary eyes to him.  He was already eating.

He swallowed, then regarded her curiously.  “Not hungry?” he asked.

She shook her head.  “No, that’s not it.  It’s just that…”  Her voice trailed off as she looked at the plate again.  “It’s just that this is really, really nice.”

He smiled at her.  “You’re welcome,” he answered.

“And it makes me think of how things used to be between us,” she continued, reaching over to gently run her fingers along the inside of his forearm.  Michael stopped chewing, swallowed hard.  “And when I think about how things used to be between us, I can’t think about food, Michael.”  Her eyes settled in his lap and he cleared his throat.

“You can’t?” he asked.

She shook her head again.

“What do you think about?” was his next question.

Maria looked up into his dark eyes and silence weighed heavily in the small apartment.  At the same time, they reached for one another, kissing with wild abandon.  They tumbled from the stools, fell to the floor with a loud thud.  Maria felt the air rush out of her as Michael pinned her to the floor.

“Sorry!” he said, then went back to assaulting her romantically.

Clothes were discarded hastily; Maria heard fabric rip and wasn’t sure whose attire had been damaged.  It didn’t matter.  Soon they were in Michael’s bedroom and she felt safe, complete, and totally in love with him again.  And she felt his love pouring out to her until they both collapsed, exhausted into a deep sleep, Maria curled up against his chest.

Michael had barely reached a level of deep sleep when the images started to flood his mind once again.  But this time they were clearer than they had ever been.  He saw the fences, the gates, military personnel, signs forbidding entrance.  And then the symbols, one after the other, so fast he could barely take them in.

With a frightened gasp, Michael sat up out of a sound sleep, rudely casting Maria away from him.  She scrambled to her knees, reaching for him, but he brushed her off.

“Michael, what is it?” she asked, her voice frightened.

“I know,” he said as he staggered from the bed.  “I know what it means.”

Maria’s eyes were round, her heart thudding loudly in her ears.  “What what means?”

He reached down and pulled on his pants.  “The visions.”

She stopped, her mouth agape.  “Are you kidding me?”  Her tone held absolute disbelief.

He shook his head, searched manically for his shirt.  “I need to go get Max.  And Isabel.”

“What?” Maria asked.  “What about me?”

Michael stopped, regarded her with conflicted eyes.  “I’m sorry.”

And with that, he was gone.

Sweet dreams of Liz.  They were the same every night.  Image after image of Liz Parker flooded Max’s slumber.  Visions of Liz smiling, laughing, sleeping.  Images of Liz’s face as she made love to him.  Max Evans was a peaceful sleeper.

But he was suddenly very awake, every sense in his body on alert.  He heard a loud noise by his window and immediately jumped from the bed.  His foot caught in the blankets, however, and he fell to the floor.  Struggling to get up, he felt a hand on his shoulder and immediately recoiled.

“Shh, Max,” a familiar voice whispered.  “It’s me.”

Max tensed, then felt his muscles relax and he collapsed flat on the floor.  As the incoherence of sleep slowly passed, he slowed his panic-stricken heart and drew in long, deep breaths.  After a few moments, he sat up and disentangled himself from his blankets.  Michael was sitting on his bed.

“Michael, you scared the shit out of me,” he chided.

“Obviously,” Michael laughed.  “You should have seen your face.”

Max stood, flopped back down on the bed.  “Why are you here?”

“Get Isabel,” Michael said excitedly.

“What?”  Max gave a disgusted sigh and glanced at his clock.  “It’s three in the morning.  She’s asleep.”

“Get her, Max,” Michael urged.  “Because I know where we’re going.”

She watched them silently.  Everything was going according to plan.

Part Four

Isabel stared solemnly out of the window of the Jetta.  The tension in that small car was thick enough to suffocate.  In the front, Michael and Maria concentrated on ignoring each other.  In the back, Isabel and Kyle stared out of their respective windows, also avoiding one another.  Well, that wasn’t entirely true – more like Isabel was avoiding Kyle.

Isabel couldn’t forget Michael’s words from only a few nights before – “I know what they mean, I know where we’re supposed to go.  Area 51.”  Max had argued that it was somewhat obvious, that any link to their past would be found in the fabled, restricted area.  But Michael had been excited, pacing the floor, almost giddy that he’d figured out the mystery.  Eventually, Max had entertained his idea, then asked just how Michael proposed to get past all of the security in one of the most heavily guarded areas on the planet.  And Michael’s answer had been simple – they needed a mindwarper.

They needed Ava.

So here they all were, crammed into a car and heading for Las Vegas to retrieve her.  Ahead of them, Max and Liz were leading the way in Max’s Chevelle.  Since the classic blue car was a two-seater, Isabel and Kyle were forced to ride with Michael and Maria.  Not that riding with Guy and Girl America would have been any better.  Isabel didn’t want to ride with anyone – she wanted Kyle to fire up the Mustang and they could be by themselves.  But money was tight and taking three cars was just plain impractical.  The Jetta got better mileage than the Mustang.  So here they were.

On their way to get Ava.

A small frown marred Isabel’s pretty face.  Her heart had sunk when she realized Michael was right and that Ava was going to be back in their lives, if only for a brief period of time.  Kyle had assured her that what he and Ava had was purely physical, that he loved Isabel and Isabel alone, but still…Kyle had been intimate with Ava.  He hadn’t been with Isabel.  Wouldn’t the temptation still be there?  Not that Kyle would do anything about it.  Some times trust was the hardest emotion to give away freely.

Isabel had to smile when she reflected on the get-away plan.  She, Max and Liz had come up with elaborate excuses as to where they would be, making sure they were out of phone reach.  Maria’s mom was out of town again, so she scrawled an excuse on a scrap of paper and left it on the table.  Michael had no one to answer to.  And Kyle had simply told the sheriff, “Got alien business, Dad.  Be back in a few days.”  How wonderful it was to have a boyfriend who was “in the know”, who could bluntly tell his father where he was going.  Isabel adored Kyle – and she hoped she wasn’t about to lose him.

“Who wants to stop for a soda?” Michael called, his voice piercing the silence in the small car.

“I could get something,” Kyle agreed.

Isabel met Michael’s eyes in the rearview mirror and nodded.

Michael looked to Maria, who was still staring out her window.  “How about you?” he asked.

“Whatever,” was Maria’s terse reply.

Michael glanced back at the road, then at her.  He did that several times before he spoke again.  “What is your problem?”

Maria whirled on him.  “My problem?  Oh, I have no problems, Michael.  You should know that by now.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Why do I have to explain everything to you, Michael?”  She waved a hand towards the open road.  “We’re on another quest for you, Michael.  I hate to break this to you, but the world does not revolve around you.”

“You didn’t have to come,” he snapped.

“Yeah, I did,” she retorted.  “Because that’s the only way I would get to spend any time with you.”

He pounded the steering wheel.  “Oh, give me a break!  I made you dinner, I –“

“You jumped out of bed and just left me there is what you did!” Maria accused.  “All you could think about is this stupid vision you’ve been getting and you didn’t care that I’m in your bed just wanting you to hold me –“

Isabel felt Kyle’s hand slip into hers and she looked over to meet his gaze.  He rolled his blue eyes and squeezed her hand.  It was going to be a long ride.

She rounded up the remaining troops – only totaling ten now – and got ready to brief them on the plan.  She remembered when they came to earth there had been more than twenty.  But some of them died almost instantly, unable to adapt to the atmosphere.  Others died slowly and one had died very abruptly.  She, like the remaining skins, would just eventually wither away into a cloud of dust.

She spoke to them in their native tongue.  Unlike Nicholas, she did not demand that they learn the earth dialect, that they try to blend with the earthlings.  No part of her desired to be in any way human; the fact that she was incased in a human “husk” was enough to make her skin crawl. 

Being new to the earth, their powers were somewhat limited and she knew that they could never defeat the royal four on their own.  They needed to be clever, cunning.  They needed to separate the aliens from the humans, then they could easily go about taking advantage of the alien-human bonds that had been created.  If you couldn’t defeat them directly, by proxy was a perfectly acceptable solution.

“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Isabel said as she eyed a scantily clad waitress that passed her.

Liz looked at the slip of paper in her hand.  “This is the club her letter mentioned.”  She looked up and over to the bar.  The words “The Alley Cat” were ablaze in pink neon behind the bartender.  “Yeah, this is the place.”

Max glanced at the patrons, which mostly seemed to be middle-aged men.  For some reason the hair on the back of his neck was standing up.  He reached over and took Liz’s hand.  “Stay with me,” he said quietly enough that the others couldn’t hear his sudden over-protective tone.  Liz smiled at him.

Kyle and Michael had moved closer to the stage, both of them looking confused.