Title: The Tempest

Title: The Tempest

Author: Melpomene

Email: melpomene@stories.com or melpomene@addlebrain.com

Archive: (I always forget this one) I don't really care as long as everything stays intact and I know where it is.

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own 'em, just 'borrowing' them for a bit.

Author's Note: Here's something completely different. Okay, for those who have read my previous fics, this isn't anything like 'em. But do keep in mind that my pen name is derived from the ancient Greek muse of tragedy…

Have you ever felt like an outsider? That you were so vastly different from those around you that they would never understand the real you? I figure that's how the pod squad would feel. It's also how one feels when they're raised to be Native American in an overwhelmingly white society.

Thanks goes out to my "little" cousins (maybe 13 and 18 isn't so little but when you're at least a decade older…) for assisting me with the details of teen life and high school terminology and for convincing me to tape the show to begin with.

Without further ado:

~~~A life lived in fear is a life half lived~~~

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Strangers

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"Look, just tell me if you've seen this place anywhere near here, I don't want a history lesson of Roswell, New Mexico, I don't want to hear about how your great-aunt Susie won the blue ribbon at the state fair for her peyote pie, and I don't want to hear all that crap about little green men from outer space. Just look at the picture and tell me if it seems familiar. You can do that, can't you? Or have those little interstellar critters out there already fried what you had of a brain?"

Liz and Maria looked up at the sudden outburst. It was the first truly hot day of the season and they had opted to forgo their term papers and their planned trip to the library and were instead working on their tans on Liz's balcony, listening to music and relaxing until the woman's voice had jarred them from their reverie.

Looking down into the street below, they saw a dark headed woman standing in front of one of the UFO center's tour guides. They couldn't hear the startled man's reply but he looked as though he would rather be anywhere but where he was. Nervously, he shifted from foot to foot and kept glancing over his shoulder.

"Forget it! Just forget it!" She threw up her hands in disgust and shoved what appeared to be a photograph into the pocket of her jeans. "I'll just drive around in the desert myself and look. I love the desert, that's why I live in Georgia!" She strode purposefully to her jeep, threw a jacket into the seat, and stormed off down the sidewalk.

"That was weird," Maria said, reclaiming her position in the warm sunshine.

"I wonder what she's looking for?"

"Okay, I am so not interested in the quirky goings-on of the Roswellian neo-tourist nazi. I need a day off."

"Liz? Maria? Girls?" Jeff Parker walked into his daughter's bedroom. "Hey, you two. Want to help the old man out?"

"It's our day off!" Maria exclaimed to no one in particular, already gathering up the things they'd taken out to the balcony. That's what they got for blowing off their homework and thereby being easily accessible.

"Who called in?" Liz wanted to know, waiting to see whose name would be on her list of least liked people of the week.

"A lot of people actually. I've already asked Michael if he wouldn't mind coming in, all I need now are two waitresses... I guess I could let your mom know that we won't be able to make that dinner theater thing we were going to do tonight, we can wait tables instead."

"No," Liz sighed, "you made reservations ages ago. Have fun. Maria and I will be down as soon as we get changed."

"Hey now, I never said I-"

"Just give it up and come on, you know you can't say no to my dad. Lunch rush is coming up soon." Liz threw a bag of chips at her friend and ducked through the window before Maria could reciprocate.

~~~

Maria grumbled her way through the rush, bantering with Michael through the window while she waited for her orders.

"Come on, Mikey, get a move on it back there. I think table five's gonna start up a coup pretty soon if they don't get something to eat.

"Don't call me that!" He thunked two plates down, narrowly missing her drumming fingers. "Here's your Eclipse burger and an Alien Blast. If you hadn't noticed, Maria, I'm kind of working by myself back here."

"My point exactly. Just wave your hand or wiggle you nose or something and get me my orders!"

Michael shook his head and glared at her as she sashayed back across the dining room. She did have a point though.

~~~

Liz approached the first booth and smiled at the pair who had claimed it. "Hi, welcome to the Crashown," she bubbled. "What can I get you to drink?"

"We're waiting for someone." One of the men looked up at her.

"Oh, okay. Would you like something while you wait?"

"Do you have scotch?" he sneered.

"No." Liz glanced over her shoulder toward Maria. What was it with psychotics invading Roswell today?

"Then we'll just wait until our friend gets here," he growled.

"Okay then."

The two men watched Liz as she beat a hasty retreat.

"Stop intimidating the locals, Sayer. You're getting to be as bad as Renata. At least the attitude just helps her image, it'll get you thrown out on your ass."

"I didn't ask for an opinion from you, o sniveling hound. Renata could nuke the entire east coast and you would still find some damned way that it wasn't a bad thing. She's got you so taken in by that 'bad girl exterior hiding pain and vulnerability' crap that you don't know which way is up."

"Leave him alone, Sayer."

The man looked up into eyes as black as coal. "I'm so glad you could find the time to join us, Renata."

"Shut up," she snarled, baring her teeth to him.

"Touched a nerve, did I? What is it with the two of you anyway? Is Jordan your own personal dose of Prozac? Is he the music that calms your savage breast?"

"Give it a rest already, Sayer. I don't want to have to get a new performer on such short notice, plus I'm too tired right now to hide your body properly." She slid onto the bench across from him and turned to their companion. "How'd it go, Jordan? Were you able to find out anything?"

"No, but I did hear your lovely voice as you tried to pound the information out of one or two people." He shook his head and took one of her hands in his own. "Have you ever heard the expression 'you attract more flies with honey than with vinegar'?"

"Yes, I have. But I'm not looking to attract flies, Jordan, I want to find the place in the picture."

Liz approached again, slightly less enthusiastically. If she could just get their order taken and be done with them, she'd be one very happy waitress. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Cherry cola?" Jordan met Renata's eyes.

"Sure, whatever."

"Make it three." Jordan smiled up at the young woman who eyed them nervously.

"Okay, great. Coming right up then."

"Civility, my dear, will get you farther in your quest than your usual outwardly volatile behavior."

"Jordan?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up." Renata looked sidelong at him and turned her attention to the cola that was placed on the table in front of her, picking up a menu in a listless hand.

~~~

"Maria."

"What?" Maria was still glaring daggers into the kitchen, tapping her foot in impatience.

"You want to trade tables?"

"No. I saw her come in. They went to your section. Like I said before I don't want anything to do with the Tourist Nazi." She snatched the plates out of Michael's hand before he could set them down.

"I wouldn't let Isabel hear you say that. She wasn't all that thrilled with the family joke. She might just decide to dreamwalk you right into a nightmare," Liz warned, smiling at Maria's retreating back.

"As if."

Liz laughed before turning on Michael. "Hey, where's that Tommy Lee Jones I put in ten minutes ago?"

"Do you really want to rush one of the men in black?" Michael shot back, attacking the grill with a vengeance as flames shot up from it... again.

"No, but table ten wants to eat one… now."

~~~

"She does look kind of familiar, in an warped, psycho-Picasso sort of way."

The rush had calmed down enough for Maria and Liz to collapse in a couple of chairs for a moment. Liz looked back across the room at the woman she'd been diligently avoiding as much as she could, given that she was, in fact, their waitress. She hadn't paid much attention to how she looked, but she studied her for a quick moment.

"How so?"

Maria wrinkled her nose. "I don't know exactly. It just seems to me that I've seen her face somewhere before."

"Yeah," Liz remarked, "on the wanted posters at the post office."

"Hey!" Michael's voice drew them from their conversation. "Food! Customers!" He brandished a spatula over a half dozen plates that lined the window.

"I'll figure out where I've seen her eventually." Maria rose and returned to her duties while Liz lagged behind, realizing that she too felt a dim familiarity toward the woman.

~~~

Renata picked at her salad; it had been the least offensively named item on the diner's menu. It didn't matter what she did to it, it was still nothing more than a leafy bunch of dead plants piled on a cheap dinner plate. Her appetite had been off the past few weeks anyway. It was probably due to the photograph and accompanying file she had received from an irritatingly anonymous source. The contents of that manila envelope had sent the three of them racing helter-skelter from Atlanta to end up in a tourist trap of a town on the very edge of a lifeless desert.

Jordan, had she voiced her opinion, would have argued that the desert was far from lifeless. He would have known the names of all the little creatures that made their homes in the sand dunes and rock formations, the names of all the different kinds of plant life. That was why she kept quiet. As much as she relied on him to ground and anchor her, she wasn't in the mood for one of his optimistic pep talks.

"Somebody pay the bill, we've got to go rehearse."

~~~

"And the Tourist Nazi and her minions have left the building," Maria chuckled, watching the strange trio walk along the sidewalk in front of the Crashdown.

"The what?"

'Oh shit!' She turned to face Isabel, why hadn't someone warned her that she'd walked in. She tried to smile convincingly although she was cringing inside. 'Why couldn't I just keep my big mouth shut for once?'

Enjoying Maria's discomfort since she had blatantly refused to help her out with the "Tourist Nazi" but willing to endure another endlessly long Isabel/Maria disagreement, Liz popped out of the kitchen. "The tour of nutzies. You know, all those freaks that show up looking for aliens and such. We've just had more than our fair share today is all."

"Whatever." Isabel walked up to the counter and took a seat.

"You owe me!" Liz hissed into Maria's ear as she brushed past her friend.

"Yeah, I do."

"So, Isabel," Liz began, "what cha doin'?"

The beautiful blonde eyed Liz thoughtfully. It hadn't been that long ago that she would have given the other girl a sharp retort and scathing look and sent her scurrying away. A lot had changed. "Alex mentioned a new band that's playing tonight at that new club across town. I thought I'd go check them out."

"So is Alex going too?" Liz couldn't keep the ridiculous grin off her face. Who would have thought that Alex and Isabel would ever get together as friends, much less anything of a romantic nature?

Isabel picked up a menu. "Well, I am supposed to meet him here," she allowed. She stridently worked at remaining aloof. Only Max knew how long she had worried over how she looked, trying on more outfits than she needed to, searching for just the right thing to wear and finally dragging Max with her to the store to buy the perfect dress. Max knew but he was sworn to secrecy.

"Cool. Maria and I were thinking about going too. Maybe we'll see you there."

"Maybe."

~~~

The club was packed. Liz and Maria squeezed past riotous groups of people, searching for their friends. Finally they spotted Isabel and Max standing on the far side of the cavernous room, however Alex and Michael were nowhere to be seen. Shoving their way through to them, they looked around for the missing members of their group.

"Hey!" Liz shouted, striving to be heard over the din of the crowd.

Max smiled at her, pulling her close to his side for a kiss.

Isabel rolled her eyes at the display and turned her back on them, facing Maria. Noting her roving eyes, Isabel motioned toward the stage. "Alex is backstage. Michael went with him to get us something to drink."

Attempting to look uninterested, Maria raised her eyebrows and nodded. "So when is this supposed to start? I don't think they're going to be able to fit many more people in here."

Maria hadn't finished her comment before Alex descended the stage and joined them, followed closely by Michael juggling several bottles of water in his hands.

"Maria, I'm glad you came. You're going to love this singer. She's amazing!" Alex walked up to her and gave her a quick hug.

"Wouldn't miss it." She spoke to Alex but her eyes were trained on Michael as he passed out the bottles he held, coming up two short.

He shrugged, twisting the top off of his and taking a long swallow. "You weren't here." Seeing the hint of irritation creep into Maria's eyes, he extended his water to her. "We could share, I guess."

"Thank you so much for your act of chivalry, Michael." She shook her head and refused his offer.

"Whatever."

Maria looked back up in time to see the Tourist Nazi and her minions, as she had come to think of them, gather on stage. They were the new band? Life just kept getting more and more strange.

"Now I remember where I saw her face before," she shouted to Liz, "on the flyers that have been posted all over town."

Liz nodded and turned back to watch them settle in and begin their performance.

As they began to play, Maria was absolutely enchanted. Alex had been wrong, the Tourist Nazi was more than amazing. Her voice was an incredible blend of fire and water that was impossible to ignore or distract from. How could someone with such a beautiful voice embody such a cold and unforgiving personality? It had to be sacrilegious or something.

Renata smiled at Jordan as she crooned to their audience. Man, she loved being on stage, adored the undivided attention she got whenever she sang. For someone who didn't particularly like to attract a lot of attention to her self in public, she hungered for it when she was performing. And the song they were halfway through was special; Jordan had written it for her years ago when they first met, before things had gotten weird. She sang every time they performed.

But being on stage did have its disadvantages: she was sweltering under the bright lights. She eased out of the jacket she had thrown on over her stage clothes. She had been freezing in the short spaghetti-strapped dress prior to their performance and Jordan had lent her his leather jacket. Leave it to her to forget to take it off before going on stage.

Maria edged closer to Michael, not taking her eyes from the stage. He gently draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her even closer to him in the darkened room. He could be enchantingly sweet when he thought no one was watching and on this occasion he knew that everyone else's eyes were riveted to the stage. The singer was almost as enthralling as Maria was wherever she sang.

Renata turned to drop the jacket to the floor behind Jordan, baring one golden shoulder to the crowd for an instant before reclaiming center stage again.

"Oh my God!"

No one was sure who had voiced the comment but it was the same thing they were all thinking. Suddenly, their little night away from the reality of human fears and alien wars was brought to a grinding halt. No one could move.

Liz spoke up at last, striving to make her voice heard, "Maybe it's just some tribal art thing… You know how popular that stuff's been with tattoos."

All eyes turned to look at her. Michael, Maria, Isabel, Alex, and Michael. No one was buying it, not even Liz.

"Tribal art doesn't look exactly like the symbol on the orb, Liz." Michael turned back to face the stage again, drawing Maria closer to his side and not caring if anyone noticed the protective motion or not.

Alex reached out and took Isabel's hand in his own, noticing the chill that had claimed her suddenly. He had been at all the band's rehearsals since they had hit town but had never seen the tattoo. Renata had always worn jeans and T-shirts when she practiced.

How could someone from the other side of the country know of a symbol that was so intricately tied in with everything alien to the planet? Who was she? And more importantly, what was she doing in Roswell?