Disclaimers: The characters of Roswell belong to Jason Katims, Melinda Metz, the WB et al...HOWEVER...they're mine when they show up in my dreams.


He came here almost every night now. It was his place where he could change that night and correct his mistakes. In here, she wasn't afraid to let him in. She didn't run.

Some nights they would just sit, staring up at the stars and he was content to just be near her. Other nights, he would turn to her as she turned to him and they would meet in a kiss that he only knew here.

He loved the feel of her lips on his. Nothing else compared to the spark that a simple kiss sent through his system. Well, nothing except the real thing.

In this place, they could be together without worrying about the FBI chasing after them or Valenti getting too close to the truth or of broken hearts. They were free here.

Or I am, he reminded himself. "This isn't real. It isn't really Isabel.

He sat alone on the log like he did every night and waited. A smile crossed his lips when he heard the familiar sound of leaves crunching under her feet.

"Hi Alex." She sat beside him and smiled softly.

His previous chastising was forgotten as he grinned back. "Hello."

"How was your day?" In here, she always asked. She cared.

"Good. We got a gig at the Flying Pepperoni for next weekend. And Maria and I are collaborating on a new song."

"That's really great, Alex. You guys are really good."

"Thanks." Alex sighed and turned his face skyward. He instantly found Aries the ram and wondered idly if they would ever find their home and if Isabel would leave. No reason for her to stay...

"Alex?" Her voice was hesitant.

He looked back at her. She was biting her lower lip and looked nervous about something. "Yeah?"

What happened next had never happened any other night that he had come here. He had always taken that first step, reached for her because here, she wouldn't turn away. So he was caught off-guard as her fingertips brushed against his cheek.

The kiss was feather-soft but it still reeled him back. The jolt was much more powerful than it had ever been and he could feel the warmth coursing through her.

She opened to him and their tongues met in worshiping need. She tasted so wild...like cinnamon. It was intoxicating. She was like a drug that he never wanted to lose his addiction to. She was perfect.

And she pulled away.

"I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow."

His brain had just registered that their kiss had ended when he realized that she was gone.


A couple of miles away, Isabel Evans sat up in bed, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.