Kate McAllister stood near the back of the upscale shop watching the patrons as they moved from one sculpture to the next, quietly murmuring about the artists' work. She wondered how excited they'd be if they were to ever meet the sullen young man who created the works of art they were fawning over.
She had discovered Michael Guerin six months ago and she had known immediately that she could make him famous. He had been hesitant about allowing her to sell the pieces until she had told him how much people would pay for them. She had convinced him to let her show half a dozen of the sculptures at a local gallery but he had refused to be put on display alongside his work. Even after she had presented him with a sizeable check and an order for a dozen sculptures he had been skeptical. He had finally agreed to fill the order on the conditions that he dealt with her exclusively and that his last name be kept confidential.
His sculptures were dark, edgy, and they flew off of the shelves. No two pieces were alike, each one original and he had declined several outrageous offers to sculpt multiple pieces of the same sculpture. She had watched him work on several occasions and she had been impressed by his drive and single-minded determination when it came to his work. He poured his soul into his work and she had wondered many times how much pain he hid beneath the scruffy, angry exterior that he presented to the world.
She didn't know what he did with the money he made but it was obvious he didn't spend much of it on himself. He rented a small house outside the city limits and the only real expenditure she had seen had been the garage behind the house; he had gutted it out, and fixed it up as his shop, doing all of his sculpting there. There was only one other house close to his and the young couple had made it their business to pull him out of his self-imposed isolation as often as he would allow. They were the only people he associated with socially and she was glad they hadn't been put off by his lack of people skills. He was one of the most anti-social people she had ever known and if it hadn't been for his sculptures she never would have bothered to talk to him a second time.
She was certain that whatever had happened in his past to make him so unapproachable was also responsible for the soul-deep anguish that was barely concealed in his dark eyes. The anger and hostility were almost always on the surface and she knew that combined with whatever painful secrets he kept hidden those emotions were the reason his work was so popular.
His sculptures were sold by one shop exclusively and the owner, Charlotte Stuart had been ecstatic when he had chosen her. When she had discussed her idea of putting his pieces in a shop he had once again been hesitant, considering it only after she had agreed to set up a meeting between the owner and himself. She had been excluded from the meeting so she didn't know what had persuaded him to sign an exclusive contract with the woman. Oh, she'd had her suspicions at first but over time she had realized that nothing could be further from the truth.
She had watched as they became unlikely friends, unable to understand how two people who were so completely different could stand to even be in the same room without driving each other crazy. Michael was quiet, contemplative, and had a temper that simmered just below the surface. Charlotte was… well, odd, would be a nice way of putting it, she thought with a smile. The woman was flighty, highly emotional, believed in all sorts of off the wall things, and liked to talk. A lot. But they spent a lot of time together and she just couldn't imagine how they found anything to talk about.
"Did you bring them?"
A woman's voice caught her attention and she turned her head to see the short, petite woman coming towards her. Charlotte had apparently decided that purple wasn't her color because the highlights in her hair were a deep shade of red this week. She was wearing a long, flowing caftan with a multi-colored design, dangling silver earrings that caught the sunlight shining through the storefront windows, and rings adorned nearly every one of her perfectly manicured fingers. Not for the first time, Kate wondered how the woman managed to keep her fingernails in such good condition.
"Katie, did you bring them?"
"They're unloading the truck now," she answered, motioning to the back of the store.
"And? What do they look like? He never lets me see them when he's working on them and I'm dying to know what he sent this time." Without waiting for an answer she waved to the girl behind the counter. "Stacy, we'll be in the back if you need me." She hurried through the door that led to the storeroom, dragging Kate behind her. "I don't know why he has to be so secretive when he's working." She giggled suddenly and released the other woman's arm when she reached the first crate. "Well, okay, he might have said that he can't concentrate when I'm yammering on and on but I don't think I go on and on when I'm talking. Do you?"
Kate sighed, accepting that once again she had been pulled into the Charlotte Zone and made a noncommittal noise that seemed to satisfy the other woman. She reached for one of the small crowbars lying on top of a nearby bench and pried the top off of the crate. Charlotte tore through the packing materials and lifted the sculpture up out of the straw to admire it.
Like all of his other pieces, this one was dark too but she could see the dark red aura surrounding it. Normally it wasn't a shade that would be seen on an inanimate object and the only explanation she could come up with was his aura was so strong that it carried over to his work. She couldn't think of any other possible explanation for it… well, that wasn't exactly true. There was one other reason, she thought with a smile.
"How many pieces do you have today?" she asked, pushing her other thoughts aside.
"Seventeen in all. I swear the man works like he's possessed."
Possessed by his past. Charlotte just nodded and carefully placed the piece back in the crate. "We'll get these put on display after we close tonight." She shook her head. "I doubt they last past the end of the month."
"You planning to see him anytime soon?"
"We're having dinner this weekend."
"Out?"
"Um-hmm." Charlotte didn't add that it had taken more than an hour of begging and pleading to get him to agree to going out for dinner in a public setting. He was probably the most socially inept person she had ever known but she knew his bark was really worse than his bite. He had a tendency to snap at people when he was uncomfortable and that didn't endear him to many people.
"Well, it'll do him good to get out for a while." Kate smiled and shook her head. "Better you than me, Char; the one time I had lunch with him he nearly took the waiter's head off because the poor man brought him beer instead of iced tea. He's way too temperamental for me so good luck."
Charlotte just smiled and moved on to the next crate.
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Kyle Valenti swiped his security badge and pushed the heavy door open, stepping out of the building and into the crisp coldness of the Colorado Springs night. The temperatures had dropped overnight, and he left footprints in the fresh coat of snow that had fallen while he had been working. He unlocked his truck and tossed his things inside before starting the engine, flipping the heat on, and stepping back out to scrape the snow off of the windows. Once he was finished he knocked the snow off of the brush and dropped it on the floor behind the seat then slid in behind the wheel.
Rubbing his hands briskly to warm them he stared through the windshield at the white wonderland that surrounded him on all sides. Roswell, New Mexico had never looked like this, he thought with a tired smile. He turned his attention to the buildings that housed the medical research facility where he worked as the head of security. He had moved to Colorado Springs almost eight months ago with his stepsister Maria DeLuca, hoping that the change in scenery would help them get their lives into some semblance of order.
His mind drifted back to nine months earlier, the memory so crystal clear he could almost feel the heat of the New Mexico summer on his skin. He had just turned eighteen and graduation was right around the corner. His dad had been weeks away from marrying Maria's mother Amy and he hadn't had the slightest idea what he wanted to do with his life. A couple of years before he'd had plans but life had happened and he had found himself faced with the very real existence of aliens – well, alien/human hybrids. Four of them to be exact.
Max Evans, who had stolen his girlfriend, Liz Parker and later saved his life. Michael Guerin, who had insisted he needed no one and nothing and had proven it by his actions near the end of their senior year. And Isabel Evans, who had just confused him. She had carried the title of Ice Queen through most of their high school years, losing it only when she had fallen in love with Alex Whitman, the biggest geek at Roswell High. She had been devastated when he had been killed towards the end of their junior year and the knowledge that his death had been caused by Tess Harding, the fourth alien in their group had all but destroyed her. They had found a way to send Tess back to their planet, cutting all ties with her and their past and focusing all of their energy on their lives on Earth.
Kyle and Isabel had gotten close during their senior year; he had become her confidant and her friend, helping her to deal with losing Alex while she had helped him come to terms with the fact that Tess had used him to make their friends' death look like a suicide. He had thought for a while there that he and Isabel were working towards a more meaningful relationship but less than a month before graduation everything had changed.
Maria had gotten pregnant and Michael had taken off for parts unknown. She had denied that he had known about the baby and she still continued to deny it but they hadn't believed it then any more than they did now. But by unspoken agreement they had gone along with it and allowed her to keep her delusion. The group had been divided over her decision to keep the baby because no one knew what affect carrying a baby that had been fathered by an alien/human hybrid would have on her or the child.
Max had been determined to track Michael down and bring him back to Roswell no matter how much time it took. He had plotted and planned his strategy and the day after graduation he and Liz had hit the road. Isabel had stayed in town, staying in contact with her brother and using her powers to help him when she could. After a few months of always being one step behind Michael she had given up and left Roswell without letting anyone know where she was going.
Maria's mother had been furious when her only daughter had informed her that not only was she pregnant but that she intended to keep the baby and raise it on her own. Amy had been insistent that the baby be given up for adoption and when Maria had refused she had become enraged and threatened to kick her out of the house. She had followed through with her threat soon after and surprisingly enough, Kyle had been the one to come to her rescue. She had moved in with him and when a company he had applied to in Colorado Springs had hired him he had asked her to go with him.
The sound of knocking brought him out of his reverie and he turned his head to look at the woman motioning for him to roll his window down. He complied with her silent demand, quirking an eyebrow in question.
"Forgot your lunchbox, boss," she said, passing it through the window into his waiting hands.
"Thanks, Teresa." He dropped the black utility lunchbox on the seat beside him and turned back to her. "You better get back inside; it's cold out here."
"Get some rest, boss and I'll see ya tomorrow night."
He watched to make sure she was inside before putting his truck in gear and heading for the first security checkpoint. It hadn't taken long for him to work his way up to his current position but the most surprising thing had been the willingness of the employees to give him a chance to prove himself. His age had been management's main concern but the employees had stood behind him and after six months of observing his dedication, his loyalty to the people who were under his supervision, and seeing him working beside them and for them he had their respect.
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Maria glanced up when the front door closed quietly and a moment later her stepbrother appeared in the doorway.
"How was your shift?" she asked.
"Not bad," he answered, emptying his pockets out onto the hall table. "But I'll be glad when we get another night shift supervisor. I hate working split shifts." He nodded at the infant sleeping in her arms. "How's the little guy doing?"
"He's been fussy but not as bad as he was yesterday." She swayed gently knowing the motion was keeping her little boy calm and quiet.
"How long have you been on your feet?" The dark smudges under her eyes and the fatigue so easily visible in her body concerned him.
She smiled faintly. "It doesn't matter; he's quiet now and he's resting."
"Tell ya what," he offered. "Let me grab a quick shower and when I'm finished I'll take him for a while so you can get some rest." His right hand shot up when she started to protest. "You're not gonna be any good to him if you're asleep on your feet."
"Kyle, you're working a split shift."
"Split shift hasn't got anything on walking the floor for hours on end with a fussy baby." He grinned at her and winked before leaving the room.
When he came back downstairs a while later he followed the smell of cooking food into the kitchen. He paused to lift the baby out of her arms before moving to the wooden rocking chair in the corner of the room.
"Maybe you should take a couple days off, Maria," he suggested, knowing she wouldn't do it. "You've been on your feet all weekend."
"You're worse than a mother," she complained, but the words were accompanied by an affectionate smile. "I'll be fine."
"Will you at least let me take him for a couple of hours and go get some rest?"
"Yes, mother, just as soon as I finish dinner."
"I noticed Dad and Amy called."
"They want to come for a visit."
"Um-hmm. Kinda figured that out all by myself." He tipped his head back to rest against the high back of the chair. "The message they left on the answering machine was fairly self-explanatory."
"I didn't feel like talking to her, Kyle. The last couple of days have been stressful enough without adding an argument with my mother to it."
"You realize she's been trying to find a way to talk to you; she's trying to mend fences."
"I'm not interested in anything she has to say. She's the one who made the decision to…" Her voice wavered for a moment before she could bring it under control. "She kicked me out, Kyle."
"And she's trying to find a way to fix that mistake," he said gently. "She's made the first move, honey; maybe it's time to let it go." He shifted the little boy sleeping in his arms to a more comfortable position. "He deserves to know his grandparents." He looked up at her again. "Give her a chance, Maria. If you won't do it for her or yourself, do it for him."
"I'll think about it." She shrugged. "That's the best I can give you right now."
"Hey, I'll take what I can get." He fell silent as she dished the food onto plates and set them on the table. While she was getting glasses down from the cabinet he stood and carried the baby down the hall to the nursery.
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Moonlight lay in wide strips across the floor, disturbed by his shadow when he crossed in front of the windows. After dinner Maria had gone to lie down and before long his nephew had awoken and started to cry.
"Y'know, you've gotta start sleeping normally, kid; your mom's gotta work in the morning and she doesn't get any rest when you don't sleep," Kyle said as he looked down at the boy. The three-month-old was staring at him, his deep brown eyes focused on the man that held him. "It's amazing how much you look like him."
The dark eyes, unruly dark blond hair, and the stubborn chin all belonged to the man who had fathered him. Kyle only hoped that if his own father and stepmother came for a visit Amy could ignore the obvious and work on repairing her relationship with her daughter.
He glanced down when the tiny hand clutching his shirt relaxed. He paced around the room a few more times, making sure the baby was asleep before he eased down onto the couch and stretched out.
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Michael Guerin ran a hand through his messy light brown hair and stared morosely at the rain pounding against the windows. He leaned his forehead against the cold pane and closed his eyes against the relentless memories that had been pushing to be noticed all morning. Against his will they rose to the surface, the memories ripping open old wounds and leaving him emotionally raw. In his minds eye he was standing in his old apartment in Roswell, New Mexico facing the only person who had ever understood him. Unable to stop the flashes of memory he was forced to watch himself destroy the one person who had meant more to him than life itself.
It wasn't possible, he thought, attempting to control the panic rising to the surface. They had taken every possible precaution to prevent this from happening. It wasn't fair; he was finally kicking the dust of this crappy little town off of his shoes and he was leaving.
"How could you let this happen?" he demanded, his tone harsh.
"Me?! It took your help for me to be in this position, buddy."
"Well, what're you gonna do about it?"
"That's why I came to you."
Michael stared at her. "I don't know what you should do," he blurted out without thinking.
"You could at least pretend to be interested since this involves you too."
He was silent for several long minutes. "I'm not staying here and I don't want kids so I guess you should get rid of it."
The words were delivered in a dispassionate tone of voice and he didn't look at her as he spoke.
"'Get rid of it'?" she repeated brokenly.
"What'd you think I was gonna say?" he snapped. "You know I've only been hanging around here to finish school. You knew I was gonna leave as soon as we graduated." He slammed his fist on the counter in frustration.
"You said we would go together."
"Then you have a choice to make; you can't have it both ways." He ran a hand through his spiked hair.
"You want me to choose between you and our baby?" she asked, unable to believe what he was asking of her. "How can you – "
"It's very simple; you wanna go with me, you get rid of it."
Tears poured from her eyes as she tried to understand his cold ultimatum. She had been so certain that they were working toward a solid future and now that belief had been shattered.
"Turning on the waterworks won't change my mind."
She nodded and picked up her purse, gathering her dignity around her like a protective cloak as she moved to the door. "Goodbye, Michael."
He stared at the door as it closed behind her, not with a violent slam, as he would have expected but with a soft click.
"Fine!" he shouted as the closed door. "If that's the way you want it, you've got it!"
He had left Roswell the night Maria had walked away from him and for the first few months he had stayed on the move. Every couple of weeks he would move to another city, unable to shake the feeling that he was being followed. He had felt Isabel's presence several times since leaving and he had to be ready to block her attempts to dream walk him on any given night.
He was positive that Max was the one following him so he had been careful to keep his stay in each city short. He knew Isabel would be feeding her brother any information she could get from his mind and that Max would be using that to track him down.
He couldn't say he was really surprised; Maria inspired that kind of loyalty in her friends. He didn't know why he had given her the ultimatum; he had known from the moment she had told him that she was pregnant that she would never voluntarily terminate the pregnancy.
"Michael?"
He blinked rapidly, seeing the small car in his driveway for the first time and turned away from the window to face the woman dripping on the floor as she stood on the threshold. He waved her inside and gave her a shaky smile. "You're soaked; why don't you go change into something dry."
Charlotte decided not to comment on the fact that his eyes weren't quite dry or the pain that was etched so clearly in his features. Yet. She nodded and made her way through the small house to the laundry room, knowing she had clothes folded up on the dryer. She had gotten into the habit of staying there on those nights when they sat up talking into the wee hours of the morning because he always insisted on her staying the night, worried about her driving back into the city when she was tired.
Gathering her clothes and a towel out of the hall closet she made her way to the bathroom to get changed. Once there she decided to just take a shower since she was already wet and she knew he wouldn't mind.
In the dining room Michael listened to the sounds of the shower running and knew she would be staying the night. Moving away from the window he walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, looking for something to make for dinner. With a shrug he settled on macaroni and cheese and Spaghetti O's. He didn't really care; it was food and he wasn't all that great at cooking anyway. Charlotte would tease him but she wouldn't make fun of him and that was just one of the reasons why she was his best friend.
"I see we're going gourmet tonight," she teased when she joined him half an hour later.
"Hey, only the best for you, Charlie," he returned, his tone light.
His tone didn't fool her. Something was bothering him and before the night was over she would find out what it was. She grabbed the bottle of Tabasco sauce out of the fridge on her way to the table with the plates and silverware. They made small talk over dinner then goofed off while they washed and dried the dishes. She waited until they had settled on the couch in the living room, the only light coming from the fire he had built in the fireplace before she brought up the subject of his earlier mood.
"Am I gonna have to drag it out of you?" she asked quietly, watching him closely for his reaction.
He opened his mouth to deny her implication that something was wrong but closed it a moment later. He rubbed a hand over his face and sighed roughly. "I walked out on her ten months ago today." He chuckled but the sound held no humor. "My kid's gotta be close to three months old now and I don't even know whether it's a boy or a girl."
Charlotte was the only one outside of his friends back home who knew the whole story and she had never judged him for his lack of responsibility in regards to his past. She hadn't held back when giving her opinion and he had always respected her honesty even if it had made him face things he'd rather not.
"Do you want to know?" she asked bluntly.
"I don't know." He looked at her, his dark eyes troubled. "Does it really matter?"
"What do you mean? Of course it matters; he or she is your child too." She leaned her elbow on the back of the couch and rested her chin in her hand. "Out of all of the things I've ever heard you say about Maria, all the different ways you've described her, vindictive was never one of the words."
"No, that's not a word I would ever associate with her."
"Then what're you worried about?"
He shrugged his right shoulder and turned to stare into the fireplace. "Ten months is a long time, Charlie; a long time to go without hearing a single word from the father of your child. She spent her whole life trying to come to terms with the fact that her father abandoned her and her mother and then I turned around and did the same damned thing to her."
"You think she won't forgive you? Or, you think maybe she doesn't love you anymore?"
"How could she? After the things I said to her that night… I don't even know if she's okay…"
"You said that you've stopped feeling Isabel's presence, right?"
"Yeah."
"But you're sure Max is still looking for you?"
"Without a doubt."
"Let him find you." She held a hand up when he started to protest. "He'll know how Maria is doing and how that baby is. You've said before that you were all close so chances are good that he'll know what's going on at home even if he is looking for you."
"Max will be out for blood, Charlie. He's Mr. Responsibility; he would've never gotten Liz pregnant and left her to handle it alone. Liz is her best friend so if he doesn't kill me she will. Isabel probably won't talk to me ever again because I left without a word and I blocked every attempt she made to dream walk me. I don't really know about Kyle; he was probably closer to Isabel than any of the others that last year."
"You're leaving out the most important person."
"Maria's got a big heart and God knows she forgave me for some pretty stupid things but what I did to her… I turned her biggest fear into a reality."
"Are you interested in going back for her?"
"She wouldn't want me back after the stunt I pulled, Charlie."
"I didn't say it'd be easy, I simply asked if you were thinking about it."
He shrugged his right shoulder and dropped his gaze. "It's a little scary… actually, it's a lot scary. I don't think I'm cut out to be a father."
"Because of Hank?"
"He's definitely part of the reason."
"There's a difference in being abusive and having a temper, Michael."
He snorted softly. "Maria used to say the same thing but how much more abusive can you get than destroying the woman that you claim to love?"
Charlotte took in the defeated slump to his broad shoulders and the dejected look in his expressive eyes and within moments she had shifted so she was beside him, pulling him into her arms and rocking him gently. She knew walking out on Maria and his unborn child haunted him and he didn't know how to make it right. That pain combined with his own self-hatred was what inspired his work and it was why all of his sculptures were so dark.
With very little resistance she managed to rearrange their positions so they were lying down and he was held securely in her arms. Tension thrummed through his big body and she knew it would be a while before it dissipated and he relaxed into sleep. Michael was an enigma and she had a feeling that there was only one person in the universe who was capable of truly understanding him. Her mind drifted back to the day that he had opened up to her as her hands continued to stroke soothingly over his back.
They had connected from the very first time they had met and she had known immediately that he was special. She hadn't known that he was more than human until she had wrecked her car trying to avoid a turtle of all things and he had torn the door off of its hinges to get to her. She had been barely conscious when his hand had settled over her leg where a piece of metal had lacerated her flesh and severed an artery. Her aura, which had been rapidly fading into a dull shade of black began to change colors, brightening with each passing second until her eyes had opened and she had seen his aura. It was normally a dark red or a dark green but at that moment it had been aqua, the color that symbolized healing and she had known right then that he was different than anyone else on earth.
As soon as she had been able to breathe again and they had made it back to his place she had been insisting on an explanation. The terror in his eyes had been unmistakable and she had quickly tried to put his mind at ease. She wasn't the least bit interested in sharing his secrets with the world and she had never betrayed his trust. The fact that he was from another planet might have surprised most people and probably would've terrified them, but she believed in the paranormal and she had taken it in stride. Their friendship had only gotten stronger after that day and as time had passed he had eventually told her what had happened to lead him to her corner of the world.
She knew all about his abusive foster father Hank and how the man had just up and left when Michael was sixteen. She knew about Max and Isabel Evans, knew they were the only family he had. But most of the time he talked about Maria and it was obvious that even though he had left her the way he had that he was still in love with her. She was certain that in time he would return home in the hopes that she could forgive him and take him back.
She glanced down when his body suddenly relaxed against her and she knew he was asleep. She pulled the afghan off of the back of the couch and shifted it around until it covered both of them. She knew from past experience that he would wake long before she did and he would carry her into the second bedroom and tuck her in before heading out to the garage where he would try once again to exorcise his demons using chisel and stone.
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She sat on the beach oblivious to the cold wind that whipped around her and the waves that crept closer and closer to her with each passing roll of the tide. Her eyes were focused on something that only she could see; her expression troubled and so lost that it broke his heart. She had been on the run for months, trying to hide from the past as well as the future and he had watched as she had become a mere shell of the vibrant woman she had been.
"What've you done to yourself, Isabel?" he whispered, knowing she couldn't hear him. Making a decision he knew the Others wouldn't approve of he allowed his being to make the temporary transition back into human form.
Isabel blinked when the air in front of her began to shimmer but immediately blamed it on a combination of her watery eyes and the moonlight reflecting off of the ocean. Closing her eyes against the light she rested her forehead on her raised knees and quickly lost herself to her thoughts.
"Do you have any idea how much work it takes to take human form?" Her head shot up so quickly he feared she might have hurt herself.
Isabel stared at him in disbelief for several shocked, silent minutes before deciding that she had finally lost her grip on the last thread of her sanity.
"You're not crazy," he said gently.
She snorted derisively. "And you're not really here and you're not talking to me but I can see you and hear you all the same." She shook her head and her gaze shifted back to the ocean. "You left a long time ago, Alex; don't start messing with my head now." She knew the words were tinged with bitterness and hurt and she knew they would hurt him if he were real. But he isn't real, she thought hysterically.
"I'm as real as I can be on this plane of existence, Isabel." He hid a smile when she turned to face him with a glare on her expressive features. "Yes, I can read your thoughts," he said before she could voice the question. "Do you think it's harder for you to believe in my existence than it was for me to believe in yours?"
"Don't talk to me in riddles," she snapped angrily. "You're a ghost."
"So? You're an alien."
She drew back when he crouched down in front of her, his smile so achingly familiar that it broke her heart. Without her permission her right hand reached out to touch his cheek, surprised when she came in contact with warm flesh. "It's not possible."
"It's possible," he countered, "but it's only temporary; I can't sustain this form indefinitely." He made a vague motion at the deserted beach around them. "What're you doing here, Isabel? Why aren't you with the others? You need each other."
"I used to believe that but now…"
"Now what? You think because you've scattered to the four winds that you don't need each other anymore?"
"You don't understand," she muttered. "Everything's different now."
"So make me understand." He moved behind her and sat down, pulling her back to rest against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. "You used to be able to talk to me about everything under the sun. How many nights did we spend with me holding you just like this? Or making love in the moonlight and talking until the sun came up without a single secret between us?"
"You must know what's going on," she hedged.
"I know where everyone is and I've kept an eye on them but to be honest, Isabel, you're the one that concerns me. The others all have someone to lean on." He rested his chin on her shoulder, enjoying the feeling of having her pressed against him. "Even Michael's found someone to keep him sane until he finds his way back home. He's not involved with her romantically," he assured her when he felt her tense up. "But she'll be the one who gets him back to Maria."
"Max and Liz are looking for him."
"They won't find him. The trail's gone cold… literally." He chuckled at his own joke. "Max needs to realize that he can't just drag Michael back and force him to do what he thinks he should do. He'll come back when the time's right and they won't be far behind him. But I'm worried about you."
"I'm fine," she protested.
"You're not fine, Isabel. You were starting to live again but when Maria got pregnant the group divided and you withdrew from everyone."
"Not everyone." She squirmed uncomfortably, certain that she knew where he was going with his observations. She hadn't been able to hide anything from him when he was alive so how did she think she could achieve that when he had the ability to read her mind?
"No? Does your brother know where you are? Am I mistaken in my belief that you've stopped communicating with him?"
"He's been gone for nine months, Alex; we haven't had a lot of time to talk."
"Don't give me that bull. Other people may fall for it but you know me better than that and I damn sure know you better than that. You closed yourself off from Maria and Kyle as soon as you heard that she was pregnant and we both know why you did that. As a matter of fact, Kyle is the only other person on this planet who knows the reason and you ran away from him. Why? Isabel Evans doesn't run from anything, so you tell me why you cut them out of your life. Tell me," he whispered harshly.
Isabel shivered when his lips brushed against her ear. "You know why!" she hissed.
"I want you to tell me."
"I couldn't stay there, Alex! I couldn't be around her, watching her go through that after having the very same thing taken away from me! It hurt too much," she sobbed, turning to bury her face against his chest.
"Why didn't you talk to Kyle? You had opened up to him so much… you told him about our baby, about miscarrying her after the fight with Whitaker to save Tess… why didn't you talk to him about this?" He rubbed her back in slow, soothing circles as he tried to ease her pain.
"I couldn't… I was afraid…"
"Because you had started to have feelings for him," Alex said quietly, "and you felt guilty for that. Falling in love with him doesn't betray me in any way, Isabel."
"I am not falling in love with Kyle Valenti," she insisted as she dried her eyes and sniffed delicately.
"I've got a news flash for you, sweetheart; you are in love with him. Maybe you've forgotten but I know what you look like when you're in love." He pressed a kiss to her temple. "I know you're scared of letting yourself care that deeply again and it's okay to be scared as long as you don't let it dictate how you live your life." He placed two fingers under her chin and tipped her head back so he could look directly into her eyes. "Don't be afraid to live and don't be afraid to be yourself; he knows you and he loves you." He rested his forehead against hers and grinned. "Kyle Valenti?"
"He's not all that different from you." She smiled at his indignant snort. "I'm serious. He's a lot different than the high school jock persona that he presented when we were in school. And I do think he's pretty special," she admitted finally.
"He'd have to be. He loves you and if he's worthy of having that love returned he'd have to be special. California doesn't deserve you and you deserve more than it'll ever be able to give you. Go back to the people who love you and understand you…" He paused when he felt the tingling moving through his body. "Go back to him, Isabel, and let him love you the way you deserve to be loved. Loving another man doesn't betray me but giving up on life, cutting yourself off from love, and just existing… that does betray me. It betrays everything we had together. You have to know that I would never want you to keep your heart locked up and never take a chance on love again just because I can't be the one holding you every night. And Kyle's a good man; he loves you for who you are and he'll never try to change you."
Isabel looked down when the arms wrapped tightly around her waist became translucent for several seconds before solidifying once again. "Alex?"
"I'm not gonna be able to maintain this form for much longer," he explained, trying to keep the pain out of his voice. "Promise me you'll go back to him and give him a chance."
"I'm not the one who will be giving anyone a chance; I'm the one who left, remember?"
He smiled knowingly. "Yeah, but you're Isabel Evans and no man – especially one who loves you – will ever turn his back on a chance to have you in his life. Trust me on this; I know what I'm talking about. Things will work out if you just give them a chance." The tingling was getting stronger and he could feel his hold on his human form slipping. "It's time for me to go," he said quietly.
Isabel nodded, having no choice but to accept the inevitable. "Will I see you again?"
"I don't know," he answered honestly. "But I'll be around, keeping an eye on things and watching over you." He lifted her chin and lowered his head fitting their mouths together as her arms came around him. His tongue swept across her bottom lip and the request for entrance was granted without thought or hesitation. His right hand caressed her cheek as he gentled the kiss and withdrew to stare into her dark eyes. "I'll love you for eternity, Isabel, but the sun's coming up," he said with a nod over his shoulder, "and it's time for you to start living again."
"I love you, Alex," she whispered, closing her eyes so she wouldn't have to watch him disappear from her life again. When she opened them again she was alone with the sunrise and the echo of her promise to him.
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Max Evans slouched down behind the steering wheel of the Jeep, waiting for the engine to warm up, and stared at the white landscape that surrounded him. He hated the color white and he hated snow almost as much; it brought back memories of being trapped and helpless at the hands of the agent who had been ready to dissect him. Three years after surviving the close call and it still haunted him.
He straightened up and put the Jeep into gear, his tired eyes scanning over the construction site as he pulled out of the parking lot and turned onto the road, thankful he wouldn't be seeing it for the next two days. He was exhausted after a solid week of working sixteen hours a day and he just wanted to fall into bed for at least twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep. He drove through the small town that was home until they could figure out their next step, barely focusing on the traffic lights as he drove the route he could have driven in his sleep.
He sat in front of the apartment building for several minutes before he was able to convince his legs to cooperate and carry him to his front door.
He unlocked the door of the apartment and quietly entered the darkened living room. He shrugged out of his coat and dropped it in a chair along with his gloves before bending over to unlace his boots and kick them off. He cursed Michael's name as he moved into the tiny kitchen and opened the refrigerator to pull out the orange juice, unscrewing the top and drinking straight from the carton. He knew if Liz caught him she'd have his head on a platter but he was too tired to care and he was fairly certain that she was asleep anyway.
He put the juice away and padded quietly into the bedroom where he confirmed that Liz was indeed asleep. After a quick shower he pulled on boxers and a tee shirt and slid under the covers beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders when she rolled over and snuggled against his side.
A year ago he would never have guessed that he would be living in a rundown apartment in some small town in Idaho with Liz. It was definitely not the life he would have chosen for either of them and he blamed it all on Michael. He had no qualms whatsoever about putting the blame squarely on the other man's shoulders. For the past nine months they had been chasing him and he knew they had come close twice, once in Chicago and one other time in South Dakota. Both times he had managed to stay just far enough ahead of them as to stay out of their grasp. They had ended up in Idaho nearly two months earlier and the trail had gone cold in more ways than one, leaving them with the unpleasant task of finding jobs that were slightly more permanent than the ones they had been taking previously.
He was torn between going back home and continuing to chase after Michael. The first couple of weeks his sister had been able to dream walk him, picking up miniscule bits of information that had helped them stay on Michael's trail but before long he had figured out how to block her and she had eventually stopped trying. She had stopped all communication with the group not long after and she had left Roswell without letting anyone know where she was going. They hadn't had any contact with her since then and she had blocked every attempt he had made to dream walk her, giving him no clues as to where she might have gone. It worried him that so much distance had grown between him, Isabel, and Michael but he didn't know how to change it or how to fix it.
They checked in regularly with Maria and Kyle to let them know what was going on and to make sure things were fine on the home front. He knew Liz regretted not being there for Maria during the pregnancy, especially after she had found out that Amy had kicked her out of the house. Maria had been quick to reassure her that she was where she was needed most and she had relayed many humorous tales about Kyle and his reactions to different things that had happened while she was pregnant.
Both he and Liz had been vocal in their belief that it was too dangerous for Maria to keep the baby and it had been too close on the heels of his own brush with fatherhood. Tess had used her powers to fool them all into believing that she was pregnant with his child, certain that the guilt and responsibility that came with that knowledge would be enough to convince him that they were supposed to be together. It had nearly worked; he didn't like to think about how close he came to going back to a planet where she had been planning to turn him over to their enemy. They would have been slaughtered upon their arrival and the only reason he and Isabel hadn't gone was because of the sudden revelation of her culpability for Alex's death.
It had taken a lot of work to get his relationship with Liz back on track and he hadn't even considered going after Michael alone. When she had informed him that she was going with him he had asked her once, and only once, if she was sure. He hadn't questioned her decision to accompany him even though there were times that he wished things were different. They were supposed to be in college not moving from city to city and job to job in their pursuit of their rogue friend.
They had been in South Dakota when Maria had gone into labor and they had spent nearly two days waiting to hear how she and the baby were. They had no way of knowing how the baby could affect her or how being born on earth could affect the baby. Tess had obviously lied about that as well because the baby had been born with no complications, just a very long and painful labor which Maria had blamed entirely on Michael. According to Kyle, who had been with her throughout the entire thirty-seven hour ordeal she had been very graphic and detailed with her thoughts about the father of her baby and they hadn't been pretty.
They had been relieved when the baby had been born healthy and apparently one hundred percent human. They hadn't seen any of their family since leaving Roswell and other than the occasional phone call they hadn't talked to them much. Their parents hadn't approved of their decision to put off college and travel across the country so any conversations with them were tense and usually short. Most of the time they called Amy and Jim Valenti if they needed a friendly ear and a paternal tone; the couple knew the truth about them and they were always ready to help any way they could.
"How come you're not sleeping?" Liz murmured, shifting around and burying her nose against his neck.
"Just thinking." He raised one hand to rub at his gritty eyes.
"Isabel?"
"I just wish we knew where she was. It took so long for her to get back to anything resembling normal after we lost Alex."
Liz smiled. "Yeah, who knew Kyle would be the one to help her?"
"Who knew he would be the one to step up to the plate and help Maria?" He sighed deeply. "I just don't understand why she became so withdrawn after we found out Maria was pregnant. She wouldn't talk to me about it and now she's gone and she's still blocking my only means of communicating with her."
"If she's blocking you then you know she's still out there; you've said before it would be completely different if she was hurt or something. You said it'd be like the connection between you had been severed but when she's blocking you it's like you're getting a busy signal."
"Yeah, but it's frustrating. The three of us have never been out of contact this long before. I swear I'm gonna kick Michael's ass when we find him; I'm so tired of this!" he grated out.
Oh, it was gonna be one of those nights, she thought. Liz stroked a hand along his arm in a soothing motion, enjoying the feel of the muscle and sinew that shifted under his flesh at her touch. Most of the jobs he had taken while they were tracking Michael down had been with construction companies and she was definitely reaping the rewards of all of his hard work. His upper body had filled out, the muscles firm and toned courtesy of all of the manual labor he had been doing.
"You should get some sleep, Liz; it's already after four."
She pushed herself up on her elbows and stared down at him in the darkness. "We'll find them, Max."
"How? We lost his trail two months ago and I don't know where to go from here."
"Would you rather go home?" She nodded when he didn't respond. "How about a compromise?"
"What?"
"We give it three more months and if we don't have anything by then we'll go home."
"What about Isabel?"
"If she hasn't come home by then… well, I guess we know what our next mission will be," she said with a smile. "And, hey, I know some of the jobs we've had have sucked big time and three feet of snow looks much better in the movies, but you have to admit some good has come out of it."
Max just barely caught himself before he made the fatal mistake of asking what good she could possibly think had come out of the past nine months. He knew she was referring to their relationship and the fact that they hadn't been prepared for living together and everything that it entailed. The first few months had been filled with tension as they had learned each other's boundaries and gradually settled into a routine that worked for both of them.
She reached for his left hand with hers and stretched them out so that the weak moonlight that filtered in through the window glinted off of the matching rings they wore. They had gotten married three months earlier by a justice of the peace in the town they had been staying in and only Kyle and Maria were aware of their marital status.
"Maybe we'll all be together by next Christmas, Max."
"Maybe," he agreed, rolling onto his side. "I'm sorry, I really don't mean to be such a jerk."
"You're not a jerk," she whispered, leaning in to kiss him. "Not all the time anyway, so I forgive you."
He chuckled quietly in the darkness and wrapped his arms around her.
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Michael studiously ignored the pounding on the door and carefully tapped on the chisel he was balancing in his left hand. Stepping back from the table he eyed the afternoon's work for several long minutes before selecting a different chisel and starting to gently etch the delicate details into the marble. The pounding continued in earnest and he finally dropped the tools on the table along with his safety glasses and stalked to the door. He was prepared to verbally blast the person on the other side but she was off and running before he had a chance to speak.
"I turned down a date with a man who could have potentially been the father of my children because you are my best friend and you asked me to come and have dinner with you and your neighbors," Charlotte rambled as she walked past him, picking up one of the chisels and waving it around in time with her words. "So maybe you can explain why you're out here chipping away instead of getting ready when we're supposed to be at their house in…" She glanced at her watch. "Oh, less than half an hour?"
"I can be ready in five minutes," he growled as he moved to take the chisel out of her hand and place it back on the table. He had just barely picked up the tools he had discarded to answer the door when she plucked them out of his hands and held them behind her back.
"Potential father of my children, Michael," she repeated with an impressive roll of her eyes. "I turned down dinner with this man for you so if you don't mind I'd appreciate it if you would not do the whole three minute power shower followed by the search for a shirt that hasn't been washed but still has at least one more good wear in it." She folded her arms across her chest and raised an imperious eyebrow. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously when he suddenly grinned and shrugged in defeat. "What?"
"Nothing," he said, motioning to the door. He followed her outside, turning the lights off and locking up before walking up to the house. She reminded him so much of Maria at times, he thought. He was sure at some point in their relationship Maria had given him that same speech and he couldn't help the grin that had surfaced in response to her words.
"You're not gonna wear black are you?"
"We're not going anywhere fancy, Charlie; we're just going to their house." Michael glared at her but it had no affect at all. "I like the color black," he insisted.
"Wear the green shirt."
"I don't like the green shirt and I'm not wearing it."
Charlotte followed him, intending to make her point and found herself facing the door to his bedroom when he closed it in her face. She turned on her heel as soon as she heard the shower come on and wandered into the dining room. There were papers scattered all over the table but her eyes were drawn to the stamped envelope lying on top of the most organized pile.
"Well, well, well," she murmured, picking it up to read the address hastily printed across the front. "Roswell, huh?" She frowned when she realized it was sealed and turned to hold it up to the light in an attempt to see what was inside. "I hate security envelopes… can't see a thing – "
"I think that's the point," Michael said, smirking when she shrieked and threw the envelope up in the air.
"You are so not funny," she grumbled, slapping his shoulder when he bent down beside her to retrieve the envelope. "When did you start writing Maria?"
He stared at the white envelope, his finger tracing over the familiar address. "It doesn't matter," he said quietly as he dropped it on the table. "She's never responded. I write her once a month… this one will be number eight and I doubt she'll respond to this one either."
"There could be a reason why she hasn't responded to the letters, Michael."
"Yeah, she doesn't want anything to do with me." He cleared his throat and left the room before she could respond. "You ready to go?" he hollered from the bedroom. He took her silence for an affirmative answer and grabbed his keys off of the kitchen counter before joining her once more. "I know what you're thinking, Charlie, and you can just stop it right now."
"What?" she asked, her tone and expression pure innocence. "I'm not thinking anything at all." Her eyes raked over him disapprovingly. "I don't see the green shirt."
"And you're not going to." He flattened his hand over his standard black tee shirt, the only difference being the band promoted on the front. "Tell me about the potential father of your children," he said, changing the subject and taking her arm to steer her out the front door. "Did you get his number?"
Charlotte let the subject drop temporarily and hooked her arm through his. "Um-hmm, and we're having dinner tomorrow night."
Michael only half listened as she prattled on and on about the man she was having dinner with the next night, most of his thoughts focused on the letter he had left on the table. They walked along the well-worn path that wound through the wooded area between the two houses, side-stepping the small puddles left by the earlier rain.
"You're not listening to a word I'm saying."
"Yes, I am. His name's Dick, he's six two, dark hair, green eyes, a doctor, divorced, no kids, and two dogs."
She rolled her eyes. "His name is Richard."
"Whatever. Do I need to come with you to make sure he stays in line?"
"No. The last time you felt the need to do that my date went to the restroom and never came back."
"Hey, I didn't make him crawl through the bathroom window."
"You intimidated him."
"Are you two at it again?" a female voice asked.
They paused in their bickering and looked up at the woman who had spoken, their expressions sheepish at being caught once again.
Jennifer Beckett had to smile at the picture they made standing there. She knew it was only a matter of time before they started to blame each other for the squabble they were in the middle of. She and her husband Leo had gotten to know the two of them fairly well over the past few months and they were a constant source of amusement. They fought and played like siblings, they were very protective of each other, and she suspected that Charlotte was the only person Michael confided in. They hadn't been able to break the ice with him until they had approached him on a day when she had been at his house. Jennifer wouldn't say he was anti-social but he didn't go out of his way to be friendly either.
"He's threatening to go on my date with me tomorrow night and I was just trying to explain why that is just a really bad idea," Charlotte said with a frown in his direction.
Michael just shrugged. "Where's Leo?"
"Too much estrogen, Michael?"
He rolled his eyes at his friend's teasing taunt and looked at Jennifer again. She was a couple inches under six feet, blond, and blue-eyed. She was attractive if you were into that look but he had a personal preference for short, leggy blondes with green eyes.
"He's inside trying to hook up that monstrosity he just had to have."
She was muttering something about boys and their toys when Michael sprinted up the front steps and disappeared inside the house. He hurried down the hall, making a turn into the sunken den and staring in awe at the electronic wonder that his neighbor was trying to program.
"I thought she nixed the big screen?" Michael said as he stepped down into the room to join the other man beside the television.
Leo Beckett pushed his glasses further up on his nose and grinned at the younger man. "She changed her mind."
"Uh-huh, what'd it cost you?"
"Michael my boy, you're way too suspicious for your age." He ran a hand through dark hair that was beginning to turn gray at his temples. "I'll admit it took some convincing… as well as a promise that we would spend the holidays with her family this year… and I may have had to agree to take her on that cruise she's been talking about for the past few years but you've gotta admit…"
They glanced at each other before turning to face the television.
"Definitely worth it," they agreed in unison.
"Sixty-two inches of in-your-face Technicolor," Leo crowed proudly. "And the timing couldn't be any better since the first game of the NHL playoffs is on tonight." The sound of a baby crying interrupted him and he tossed the remote and instruction manual to the younger man. "See if you can get that programmed while I check on her."
Michael quickly lost himself in the technical jargon printed in the manual, fascinated by the features and functions available. He was so absorbed with the on-screen menu and the variety of choices that Charlotte startled him when she came up beside him and placed her hand on his arm.
"Dinner's ready," she said quietly.
Her hushed tone caught his attention and he turned to look at her but the question died on his tongue. She was holding Morgan, the couples' five-month-old daughter and gently swaying, the constant motion obviously soothing for the baby.
"Just to warn you, they're gonna ask you to baby-sit on Saturday night."
"What?"
Charlotte bit the inside of her cheek to control the laughter that wanted to escape at his panicked expression, knowing that it wasn't an act. "I'll come over and help you," she offered. "C'mon, Michael, they just wanna go out for a nice, quiet dinner without any interruptions."
"Well, why didn't they ask you?"
"Probably because it's your house and they know we're not a couple so they don't just assume that I'm making your decisions for you. C'mon, it'll be fun."