When he'd left his apartment the next afternoon, Michael's instinct had told him to avoid the Crashdown. But he was hungry, and he was broke, and he was too lazy to prepare his own food. So there he was, sitting at a table by himself and watching as other customers entered and finished eating while the waitresses diligently avoided his general vicinity.

Finally, Maria walked nearby with a coffee pot, and he was able to stand up directly in her path. She stopped short, nearly spilling coffee all over herself.

"What do you think you're doing?" she hissed, trying to walk around him.

He blocked her path easily by moving to his left. "Listen, I've been sitting here for half an hour. Don't think that just because we broke up, I have to put up with crappy service."

"Miss, my refill?" a nasal voice came from behind Michael. He turned to see a middle-aged man in a green polo shirt holding out his coffee cup, an unamused expression on the jerk's face.

"Will you give her a second here," Michael said. "You're not the only person in this restaurant, you know."

Maria glared at him and pushed past. "I completely apologize on his behalf," she said hastily to the customer while filling up his cup with the dark liquid from the pot. "He just--well, he doesn't actually have an excuse." She finished pouring and turned to Michael, glaring. "I don't know what you think you're going to get from me."

"An omelet, maybe?" he replied flatly. "I'm pretty hungry."

She looked at him, her eyebrows drawn, obviously disgusted with him. "You--" she started, then stopped herself and spun around to head back to the kitchen.

He should have just let her go, saving himself the hassle, and try to get food out of Liz when she passed by instead. But the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. "Maria, wait."

Maria spun around again, looking even angrier, if that was even possible. As she started to respond, the Crashdown door opened and Isabel came in, wearing a pale yellow sweater with black pants and sporting a murderous glare. Apparently everyone was in a sunny mood today. She walked up to them, seemingly not noticing the tension, and said to Maria, "I need a cup of coffee. Hurry."

Maria put the coffee pot on the table and threw her hands up in the air. "Sure. Whatever. Why the hell not." She walked over to the counter to get a mug, and Isabel sat down at Michael's table.

"She's grumpy," Isabel observed wryly.

"You weren't in school again," Michael commented. If Isabel kept this up, she would start to challenge him for the record of consecutive days of class missed not due to illness.

She sighed and moved her hands to straighten her ponytail, shaking out her hair. "I don't even know where to start."

Michael raised his eyebrows. "You and Max didn't have a big fight again, did you?"

"No, nothing like that."

"Then what is it?" he asked, wondering whether it was human or alien-related.

"All right. Don't freak out." She leaned forward on her elbows and lowered her voice. "I have a son."

He nearly dropped his jaw. "What are you talking about?"

"From our past life," Isabel continued. "He's Kivar's son--not yours. I said, don't freak out," she added, probably seeing the bewilderment in his eyes.

Maria returned with a cup and placed it at Isabel's setting. She also dropped a plate with an onion-and-cheese omelet in front of Michael, surprising him. He looked at her, but she narrowed her eyes in return and turned back to Isabel and started to pour her coffee. "So do you want anything to eat, by the way?" she asked, speaking purposefully to Isabel and only to Isabel.

Startled by the interruption, Isabel looked up at Maria with a confused expression. "Uh, no. Thanks."

Trying to ignore Maria's presence, Michael dug into his food and asked, "How long have you known about this?"

"Since about three this morning," Isabel answered. "And guess how I found out?"

"Known about what?" Maria asked, and gave an innocent smile when both of them gave her annoyed glances. "Hey, it sounds like something relatively important that I'm eventually going to find out about anyway, so what's the point of not telling me?" She took the liberty of sitting down next to Isabel, forcing her to slide over to her right.

"Fine." Isabel rolled her eyes. "I have an alien son with Kivar from our former lives, and now he's in Roswell--my bedroom, to be specific--because he's on the run from his evil father."

Maria gasped dramatically, raising her right hand to cover her mouth as she did so. "You can't be serious."

"Yeah, you're right," Isabel replied. "I just thought it'd be funny to 'psych!' you."

"What does he want?" Maria asked, unfazed by the sarcasm.

"Just shelter, so far," Isabel said. "That's what he says, at least. I don't know how long he's planning on staying on Earth."

"Well, he could go back with you, if you're going there to overthrow Kivar anyway, right?" Maria asked.

"Hold on," Michael interrupted, feeling that things were getting out of hand. "How do we even know that he's telling the truth?"

"I don't," Isabel responded simply. "I didn't tell him that we're going back. I told Max, he said we should--"

"Wait until we get more information, yeah, I know the drill," Michael cut in. "We all know Max. But we've gotta do something; what if he's some kind of spy?"

Isabel smiled. "Actually, Max said that he'll ask Larek what he knows about a son of Kivar's."

"Well, that's a start," Michael replied, impressed. He hadn't expected Max to be proactive, but apparently, for once he'd underestimated him.

Isabel continued speaking. "Anyway, his name is Coll, and he said that he's about eleven years--Earth years--old. Which raises the question of how I could have given birth to him, since I had just come out of the pods eleven years ago."

"Right," Maria said. "That doesn't make any sense."

"At first glance," Isabel went on. "But do you remember one time when Courtney said something about time working in different dimensions on our home planet?"

He didn't, but Maria nodded.

"Apparently, it has something to do with that. I don't really understand it--and he's a kid, so he couldn't really explain it. But apparently it helps with really fast space travel that human bodies wouldn't be capable of."

Maria gave her a blank look--Michael couldn't blame her, because if what Isbael had just said had made any sense, it had flown right over his head, too--and didn't say anything for a few seconds. Then she piped up again. "So, what does he look like?"

As Isabel was about to answer, Liz walked over and pointed at Maria. "Maria. There are some customers around here asking for their food," she said, smiling lightly with a grin that didn't quite reach her eyes. "For some reason, they think that you might know where it is."

Maria jumped up, looking sheepish. "Oh my God, I am so sorry. I'll get right back to work." They walked off together, Maria's trailing voice telling Liz that she had to tell her what happened to Isabel as soon as they could get a private moment.

Isabel brought her coffee mug to her lips for the first time since Maria had brought it. "So," she started, raising her eyebrows, "you and Maria. On or off?"

He shook his head. "What's the point? We're going home, and she's going to be here. That's a hell of a long-distance relationship to keep up, and it turns out, there's not much to keep."

Isabel put her cup down and started playing with the handle, absentmindedly using her powers to make indentations of her fingerprints along the side. "But Alex and I just got together. If we stopped this...I feel like it would be such a waste."

Michael snorted. "And that's definitely more important than going home and saving our people from a government of tyranny and years of warfare."

She didn't look amused. "Yeah, maybe you're not the person I should be talking about this with, what with you having the emotional IQ of a four-year-old and all." She motioned her hand in the direction of Maria, who had just come out from the back. "Exhibit A."

"Yeah, whatever." He leaned back, unimpressed. Isabel had a history of pulling this kind of crap, but he was sure that she would learn to adjust. "Just make sure you've sorted through your feelings by the time we leave, will you?"

"Lovely speaking to you." Isabel rolled her eyes. "I'm out of here." She took a second sip of the coffee, made a face, and put a dollar and quarter on the table. Then she walked out, looking just as tense as she had when entering.

He watched the waitresses ignore him for a few more minutes as he drank Isabel's barely-touched coffee. As he got up to go, having given up on getting dessert, he turned--just for a split second--to look at the counter. Maria caught his eye and started to walk towards him.

He turned around to go, but she was too quick. "Listen," she began. "I've been stubborn, but I--I want to talk."

"Talk about what?" Michael asked. "I think we've pretty much said everything there is to say."

She sighed and crossed her arms near her chest. "We shouldn't fight like this. It's different now. Michael, you're going to another planet--we don't have months to make up, this time."

He didn't feel like making up with her ever, but he'd felt that way before he had learned by now that that wasn't how it worked. But he didn't bring that up. Instead, he said, "Well, maybe it's better if we don't make up. For now."

The same customer who had interrupted them earlier coughed and said, "Miss, I believe I ordered a slice of pie."

Maria spun around to face the guy, and said sharply, "Give me a second here. You're not the only person in this restaurant." She turned back to Michael and continued where he'd left off. "You could die, Michael. I can't let you go off to something like that and stay mad at you."

They'd been in situations where they could have died before... but she was right, they usually made up beforehand. After he'd kissed Courtney, Maria had been livid--but when she'd thought that Courtney was stalking him, she'd quickly forgiven him, right in time for them to go to Arizona and save everyone's asses. And before that, with Isabel's pregnancy scare, Maria had flat-out stopped talking to him--until Max was kidnapped.

This time it was different, though. He remembered what Isabel had asked about coming back to Earth after the war, but he had a distinctive feeling that once he'd spent a good amount of time on Antar, he would feel more at home there than he did on Earth. He had to. There had to be somewhere for him to really belong. "So what are you saying? We can't be together."

"I don't know," Maria admitted. "Maybe we could be...I don't know, friends or something."

Friends? He and Maria had never been friends. They'd gone from two people who slightly disliked one another to an exclusive couple in the span of a month, and since then they'd never really had any relationship aside from those two. In fact, he had no idea how to be friends with someone like Maria DeLuca.

When he didn't answer, she sighed. "Or not. I don't know."

"No, yeah. You're right, let's be friends," he said, surprising even himself.

"Okay, then. " Maria smiled. "We're friends. Maybe... sort of."

"Good to know." He walked away, feeling a light bounce in his step despite himself.

"Michael!" she called after him. "That doesn't mean you don't have to pay for your food, you jerk!"

He laughed and left the restaurant.


The doorbell rang twice in a row, and Tess tried not to run over to the door.

"Have fun, but you'd so better be home before me this time," Kyle grumbled from the couch, not taking his eyes off the television. "I'm going out for fast food with a few guys from the basketball team."

"I really hope I'm not home before you; that would be pathetic," Tess responded cheerfully, opening the door. Max stood on the other side, wearing a dark green button-down shirt with black jeans and holding a pink rose.

"Here," he said, handing her the flower. "I don't know what your favorite flower is, but I figured you can't go wrong with roses."

She smiled at the gesture, taking the rose from his hand and placing it on the table near the door. A second later, she picked it back up and looked questioningly at Max. "We're not going dancing and we're going to, like, use this to tango, are we?"

He chuckled lightly at her sad excuse for a joke. "No. I thought we'd go to Senor Chow's."

She'd never heard of it. "What kind of food is that?"

"Mexican," he replied. "It's a nice place...if you like Mexican food," he added, presumably noticing the unimpressed expression on her face.

She wrinkled her nose. "I sort of feel like pizza."

She wanted to take it back. What kind of idiot was she, shooting down Max's idea after he'd planned the evening for them?

But Max smiled, like he was amused. "Pizza it is."

They each got two slices, her two tomato slices and him one vegetable and one plain. They ate through their first slices without speaking. As Tess dropped the crust from her slice, she commented, "I have to say, this is much more casual than I ever imagined our first date would be." She paused. "Our second first date, anyway," because she had a vague recollection of their first date in their original lives, on Antar.

She caught a glimmer of a smile as he looked down. "Our second first official date, you mean. Going to New York...that was sort of like a date."

Spending all that time with Max, and getting to know him, had been the silver lining of that awful experience. After Lonnie and Rath had left her in the sewer, she'd been in a hurry to leave the city, so they booked tickets for the next day and spent the night at a motel in Newark. The night had been cold, and the heating had been broken, and Tess had tried to fall asleep at 11:30 only to stare at the digital clock, shivering, until finally giving up at 12:30. It turned out Max hadn't been able to fall asleep either, so they'd sat, huddled, at the foot of the bed, talking about their worst Thanksgiving memories until the sun came up.

"I think I'd prefer to think of this as our first date, if you don't mind," she replied. "That entire experience was a nightmare."

"New York was weird," Max agreed. "You know, I never understood how Nicholas managed to live through that fireball that you created."

"Me neither, actually," Tess said. "But, you know, I wasn't all that surprised. I mean, it was just a mindwarp. Mindwarps don't kill people, in my experience."

"Well, since you're the only one who can do them, I'd say you were the expert." He raised his Snapple to her as if to say, Cheers, and then put it down. "Actually...are you the only one? Are people on Antar able to?"

"I don't know," she replied. "There's so much that Nasedo didn't cover with me. We thought we would have so much more time together. And my memories of our other life aren't as clear as I wish they were."

"Do you have any normal memories like that?" Max asked. "You know, about day-to-day life...grocery shopping or doing laundry?"

"Max, we were king and queen; I doubt we did our own laundry."

"But you know what I mean," he said. "Do you have any memories of events that weren't turning points in our lives?"

"Not many." Tess paused for a moment, leaning in towards her straw to take a sip of Coke. She decided to share one of her more recent theories with him. "I got the feeling that the way we were created is way more advanced than what they're even imagining about genetic engineering on Earth."

"You mean, you think they left stuff out of our memory on purpose?"

"Or that they only bothered to give us specific memories on purpose," she offered. "I mean, well, for example, have you ever had a visual memory?"

Max shook his head. "I'd like to, but no. Do you think that's significant? Like they didn't think it was necessary, so they didn't include visions?"

"Yeah, maybe. Or maybe they specifically didn't want us to recognize things by sight." She shrugged. "Or, you know, it could be that they just don't have technology that advanced. What do I know."

Max smiled. "You've thought about this a lot."

She had, laying in her various bedrooms over the years, looking at the various constellations and galaxies and star systems she'd sketched out on her ceiling with glow-in-the-dark stickers. "I've had a lot of time to think about it. It's all new to you, but I've known this stuff almost since I was out of the pod."

"Are you interested in that kind of thing?" he asked. "Biology, genetics?"

"I'm interested in things that are relevant to our lives on Antar. It's really important to me." She took a stab at changing the subject, trying to set the tone of a real date. "What kinds of things are you interested in?"

"I don't really know. I used to be interested in normal things..reading, music, things like that. Now I don't know. It's complicated."

Tess nodded. "Your life has gotten more complicated since I showed up."

"Yeah...but it's also gotten more meaningful." He reached over and put his hand over hers. "I'm glad you came to Roswell, Tess."

Later, as she sat on her bed, reflecting on the date, she thought about the way it felt to have him acknowledge that. When she'd first arrived, even after explaining that she was one of them, she hadn't felt wanted. It took a while to reach even "begrudgingly accepted." It was the little things now that made it easier, like Michael teasing her and including her in a trip to Las Vegas, or Isabel--well, Isabel was a little bit self-absorbed, so it was easy not to take it personally when the two of them had drifted apart. But she didn't feel like Isabel valued the humans--except for maybe Alex--over her, so at least she was still on Isabel's radar.

There was a knock at the bedroom door. "Come in," she called.

Kyle came in, his hair messed up like he'd just awoken, and sat at the edge of the bed. "Hey," he said, raising his hand in a wave. "I just noticed your light was on. How was your date?"

"It was good," Tess said. "We had fun."

"You and Evans." Kyle shook his head. "I have no idea what you see in him, but if he makes you happy, then I can't complain."

"He does." She grinned. "So don't."

"And you're going to go back with him to your freaky war-torn alien planet," Kyle added. "Why are you doing that again?"

Tess shrugged and pulled the blanket up to her waist. "That's my destiny, right? I've been saying it all along."

"You really believe in that?" Kyle asked. "What about free will and making lemonade out of lemons and all that crap?"

"That's for regular people," Tess responded without missing a beat. "Uh, no offense intended. But when you're royalty, especially reincarnated royalty, you're not born with a clean slate. Anyway," she added, "destiny doesn't contradict free will. I could choose to stay on Earth and hide, or I could choose to step into my role as queen and return to Antar. Technically, the choice is mine, but that doesn't mean both options are equally valid."

"But staying on Earth doesn't have to mean hiding," Kyle argued. "You could stay on Earth and still do great things. You could, I don't know, open an orphanage or feed the hungry."

Tess shrugged again. "There are children on Antar whose parents have been killed by the war. There are people who are starving because of Kivar's policies. They need us. The problems on Earth...well, like I said, choose your own adventure is for regular people."

Kyle was quiet, presumably thinking. "All right," he said finally. "I'm not sure I agree, but it's your life. And I respect that." He reached out and took her hand in his. "Just try not to get yourself killed, okay? I'm really going to miss you."

"Yeah," Tess agreed. "I'm going to miss you, too."

She tried not to blush, not used to such simple displays of affection. This was Kyle Valenti...the jock she'd picked nearly at random in order to get Max's attention when she'd first arrived in Roswell, who'd somehow become her best friend, who'd then turned into someone she considered family. It was hard to accept that when she left Earth, she would be sorry to say good-bye.


Isabel was sitting across the table from Alex at the Crashdown on Saturday morning, technically on a date that neither of them had bothered dressing up for. Her mind kept wandering from the conversation, worrying about her most recent dream, which she barely even remembered, and what it could have meant. "So you've got your kid from a previous incarnation hiding in your house," Alex said, taking a sip of his root beer. "That's kind of messed up, huh?"

"I guess," she responded absentmindedly.

"How long do you think you'll be able to hide him from your parents?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I don't know."

He asked something else that she didn't catch, and then she heard him say her name.

"Isabel," Alex was saying, "not to jump to conclusions or anything, but is there any chance that you're distracted?"

She looked up at him in surprise, then laughed in a fast, high-pitched way that revealed her nervousness. "Oops. I'm sorry, Alex. It's just--" she looked around their table, then spoke with a lowered voice-- "listen, do you remember when I was asleep at the park and I had that dream?"

"And your skin lit up like a firefly?" Alex added. "Yeah, of course I remember."

"Well, I know I said it was nothing, but it's been happening a lot lately," Isabel said. "And I think I'm starting to get concerned."

Liz walked over, and both of them turned their attention towards her. "Do you two know what you want to eat?" she asked, pulling out a pad of paper.

"Yes, ma'am," Alex answered, folding up their menus and handing them to her. "I'll have a Will Smith, and the lady here will have a Trekkie special. Diet Coke for both of us. Thank you very much."

Liz smiled in a way that showed she was either way too amused by or way too tolerant of Alex's dorky sense of humor, and took their menus. As soon as she left, Alex leaned in towards Isabel and lowered his voice. "Well, what are the dreams about?"

"That's the thing, I don't really know. They're too vague. I don't remember sounds or images--just feelings. Like really strong emotions. And it keeps happening, every night." She knew she sounded crazy, but she couldn't think of a better way to describe the dreams.

He looked thoughtful. "Do you think they might be coming from an outside source?"

Isabel shrugged. "Yeah...maybe." It was something she had considered, but the idea scared her. It wouldn't be the first time that had happened--Laurie Dupree had forced her was into Isabel's dreams a few months back--but the idea of not being in control of her own mind was extremely unsettling. "They don't really feel like me. It's like...maybe I'm being dreamwalked?"

"Do you think maybe it's Kivar dreamwalking you?" he asked.

She nodded slowly and shivered as she finally let herself envision the possibility. "I think...I think it's a very probable. Alex, what if he knows--or suspects--that Coll is here, and he's trying to find out by dreamwalking me? Would I even be able to stop him?"

Kivar already knew where they were, she assumed, but if something more important were at stake... If he wanted his son back, he might come personally to Earth. Or he might send an army to retrieve Coll and kill anyone in the way. Neither of those two options were situations that Isabel felt particularly ready to face. In fact, she wasn't sure if she would ever be prepared to face a real battle, no matter what Michael and the others thought.

"Um...I'm going to suggest something that may sound crazy. Just try and keep an open mind." He took a deep breath. "Have you ever tried to dreamwalk yourself?"

She shook her head. "That does sound crazy."

He looked crushed, dropping his head to avoid her gaze and twisting his mouth. "Yeah. It's probably impossible. I--"

Isabel interrupted him before he could get too immersed in his self-pity. "But dreamwalking a conscious person also sounded crazy...and I managed to do that, right?"

Alex's face immediately brightened.

"It couldn't hurt to try," she continued.

She had an icy feeling that it probably could.

"Let's go." She pulled him by his hand and the two of them stood up, Isabel bumping into someone behind her. She quickly whirled around just in time to see Liz saving their meals from falling onto the floor.

Liz held up the salvaged tray. "I, uh, have your order."

She felt bad, a little bit, but there were more important things at stake. "Wrap it up and keep it in the fridge; we'll eat it next time." She saw Alex shrugging his shoulders at Liz in apology. "We have to go."


"Just try and relax," Alex said. They were sitting in his room, and Isabel was laying on his bed (because it would have been uncomfortable in her own room, not for any other reason, with Coll there, he reminded himself), curled up, hand on a picture of the two of them from the prom. Seeing her on his bed was making it impossible for him to follow that advice--she looked so cozy and at ease in the place he slept every night--but he hoped that she would have better luck.

"I am relaxed!" Isabel snapped, and he tried to refrain from laughing out loud.

"All right, all right." He ran his hands lightly across her hair. "Take your time."

She giggled nervously. "I keep falling asleep in front of you lately. I don't think I've ever seen you asleep."

He almost said, There will be plenty of time for that, but then he remembered that she was leaving the planet in a month, and he wanted to push that conversation off as long as possible. It didn't seem fair that just as Isabel had finally expressed a real interest in him--but no, he wasn't going to let himself get worked up about that. He'd known going into the relationship that this was a possibility, and he was just going to have to accept it.

Finally, her hand relaxed, and the photograph fluttered the few inches down to the bed. Her breathing became deep and even, and her body slowly started to uncurl itself, the muscles in her back and legs loosening up.

He watched Isabel sleep, and by the time a few minutes had passed he could see the fluttering under her eyelids that indicated her starting an REM cycle. Apparently, aliens fell into deep sleep faster than humans...it wasn't something he had considered before suggesting that Isabel dreamwalk herself, but now that he had the chance to think it over, he realized more clearly that she would have to actually sleep for long enough to dream.

Gradually, her skin started to illuminate, the same way it had the night after prom. It was beautiful and terrifying to watch at the same time, and Alex had to restrain himself from waking her up again. And then, all of a sudden. she shuddered fiercely and started to cough, wheezing like the air was being sucked out of her.

Isabel sat up quickly, her breathing still unsteady. He reached out to steady her with his arms, and she fell into his embrace, gasping and whimpering, as she calmed down. He held her closely, trying to protect her from whatever it had been in her mind that had frightened her so badly.

"Max?" Isabel said, still in the midst of mild hysteria. "Michael?"

Alex rubbed her back while she sat up. "Hey. It's okay. It's me, Alex."

"What's going--" she started, and then pulled herself away, and looked him over. It seemed to bring her to her senses. "Oh. That's what it was."

Their hands were still touching, and she held his tightly, while he tried to look reassuring. "Do you remember what happened in the dream?"

She shook her head. "Not really. I think I remembered the dream until I realized that I was awake. But I remember a man." She closed her eyes for a second, as if trying to bring back the memory. "It looked like a human face, not that it makes a difference. All I really remember is that he looked angry. And he said something that I didn't understand...I don't remember the words. And then I felt this rush of--it felt like wind--and I was jerked awake."

"Do you think it's Kivar?" he asked.

She looked at him, but her face was indescribable and he couldn't tell what she was thinking. She spoke slowly. "I don't think it is. Don't ask me how I know that...it's irrational, I know."

He pulled her back into an embrace. "Well, that's a relief."

"Or else it means that Kivar's not the only person who hates me," Isabel responded bitterly. She paused, and he waited for her to speak again rather than trying to fill in the silence.

"I don't want to go back to being Vilandra," she continued. "Max, Michael, Tess...they don't understand, they think we're going back to this wonderful place where we have friends and family waiting for us...and I guess that's true. But it's not the same for me. I don't know what to expect. Are they going to blame me, are they going to arrest me? I don't even know what I did!"

He didn't know what to say. He wanted to tell her not to go, then, to stay in Roswell with him where it was safe and no one considered her a traitor. But he couldn't hold her back, he'd known that much from the moment he'd found out who she was.

"It's not fair," Isabel said.

"I know." He rubbed her shoulder, trying to ease some of her tension. "It's not fair at all to blame you for what someone else did. But I'm sure you'll get through this and come out on top. Do you have any idea how strong you are?"

She looked up at him, smiling weakly. "I don't know how I managed to get a guy like you, Alex."

He tried to think of something witty to say, but she leaned in and kissed him before anything came to mind, and that was much better, anyway.

When she pulled away, he saw that her eyes were red and teary. She seemed to be using all her strength to hold herself in, keep herself from falling apart.

"Hey. Isabel."

She sniffled before speaking. "I'm sorry. I'm just so tired...and every time I fall asleep I have these dreams that scare the crap out of me. Can we just lie down here for a while?"

Lie down together on his bed, like there was a chance that his thoughts wouldn't go directly in one direction. But, pushing his hormones way back inside, he swallowed and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, of course."