Title: This Brilliant Dance

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: Sorry for the lateness of this update, it was supposed to be done two days ago, and then it wasn't quite finished…

Chapter Twenty-Four: Third Wheels

"So…I wanted to say that…I, uh, I am…"

"I know, Tess."

Tess stopped mid-sentence and frowned slightly. She was talking to Trudy on the phone, attempting to apologize for how she had acted. It had been hard, harder than apologizing to Kyle. She wasn't used to being wrong, at least not among her friends. And no one else ever demanded that she apologize; she was, after all, the Ice Queen of Roswell High.

"What do you know?" Tess asked curiously.

"I know you are sorry," Trudy's voice replied, a slight laugh in it. "It's alright, don't worry about it." There was a pause, while Tess accepted what Trudy had said and Trudy tried to figure out how to best phrase her next question.

Finally, Trudy said, "I talked to Ms. Topolski. Actually, she talked to me."

"About what?" Tess asked, surprised. She had not ever pegged Trudy as someone who would speak to a guidance counselor about her problems.

"You, actually."

"What?" Tess asked sharply, instantly on guard.

"She heard that we had a falling out and wanted to warn me not to get too depressed if you stopped being my friend…" Trudy explained hesitantly, wondering how Tess was going to take this. There was a silence, so she pressed on, "She said you used to be friends with Max, Isabel, and Michael, and then you…something happened and now you…aren't friends."

"How does she know that? She wasn't here," Tess pointed out pragmatically, her mind working furiously as she tried to figure out what it was Ms. Topolski could possibly want.

"She was asking questions about the Hardings also," Trudy murmured.

Tess' heart leapt into her throat. "What did she want to know?"

"She just…I don't know, Tess. She was just asking a lot of questions," Trudy said at last.

Tess glanced up at a sudden knock on her window and frowned, shooting a quick, apprehensive look at her door. But Kyle was out with his friends, and Valenti was still at work, so there was no risk of anyone walking into the room.

"Trudy, I have to go. Can I talk to you in school tomorrow?"

"Sure," Trudy replied, her tone slightly surprised and suspicious. It was an abrupt ending to the conversation, and Tess had neither confirmed nor denied Ms. Topolski's comments. "See you then."

"Bye." Tess hung up and walked over to the window and pushed the shade to one side, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise at the person standing in front of her. "Not the alien I was expecting," she commented dryly as she opened the window.

"Got a minute?" Michael asked, not wanting to beat around the bush.

"Sure," Tess answered, her eyes narrowing slightly at the worried look on Michael's face. "What's going on?"

Michael held out his hand, and in his palm was the button. Tess reached for it, a strange sense of familiarity tickling at her mind as her fingers slipped over the smooth object.

"Where did you find this?" Tess asked, fingering the button.

"It's a long story," Michael replied, thinking back to the chain of events that had lead him to Hannigan's car.

"I'm listening," Tess answered simply.

"I can't believe I let him talk me into this," Isabel thought to herself as she carried three coffees back to the table. The coffee shop was filled with people, although whether that was because of Alex's band or because no one had anything better to do in Roswell, Isabel was not entirely sure. Either way, the place was packed, and Isabel, Liz, and Max had been relegated to a small table near the back of the room.

It wasn't that the table was small, or that the room was too warm, or that the coffee was horrible. It wasn't as though Isabel had anywhere else to be, and it wasn't as though she didn't want to hear Alex's band.

She just didn't want to be here with Max and Liz.

"Get a room," Isabel requested as she deposited the coffee's on the table, the dark liquid sloshing dangerously high in the cups.

Liz pulled away from Max, her lip stick slightly smudged, and had the decency to blush. Max gave Isabel a sharp look of annoyance and turned back to Liz. He was holding one of her hands with his own, the other resting on her thigh as he leaned in to kiss her again.

Isabel looked away in disgust. It wasn't that she had a problem with public displays of affection, which was good considering the entire coffee shop seemed to be filled with lip locking couples.

But this was her brother.

"When do you think Alex is playing?" Liz asked, breaking off her kiss with Max and glancing over at Isabel.

"I don't know," Isabel replied quietly, her gaze fixed on the stage. Liz frowned slightly at Isabel's slightly cold reply, but said nothing, and the three lapsed back into silence.

Isabel sighed and inwardly winced as she thought about how this night was bound to turn out. She would be stuck sitting here while Liz and Max made out, while the entire shop made out. A third wheel… She should have convinced Maria to come.

But the moment she thought about Maria, Michael's face came to mind, and she was still stung by the way he had so blatantly blown her off earlier that day.

"You look bored," a voice said.

Isabel turned sharply to see a man standing behind her. He looked to be a year or two older than her, and his sloppy blonde hair fell over sparkling green eyes. He was smartly dressed in khakis and a dark polo shirt, and he had a cup of coffee in one hand.

"Are you knew here?" Isabel asked. "I swear I know all the people around my age in Roswell."

"My name's John Harrison," the boy replied, extending a hand. "My parents and I are moving out to L.A., and we decided to take a detour through Arizona and New Mexico. My father's big into Native American stuff." He gave a lopsided grin.

"I'm Isabel Evans," Isabel replied, taking his hand. "And I'm not bored, just…" she gestured helplessly at Max and Liz.

"Your friends are otherwise occupied at the moment?" John finished the sentence with a slight laugh. "Mind if I join you?"

At that comment, Max pulled away from Liz and looked at Isabel sharply. The room was crowded enough that he could not hear everything this new boy had heard, but judging by the way he was leaning in towards Isabel, his hand resting next to hers on the table, there was no doubt in Max's mind that this guy was hitting on his sister.

His protective instincts flared. "Izzy?" he asked, raising his voice to be heard above the din. "Who's your friend?"

Isabel shot him a glare, having not been fooled for a moment by Max's seemingly innocent question. Turning back to John, she said in a low voice, "My brother's the protective type."

"Brother?" John laughed again. "Oh, that must be awkward, hanging out with your brother and his girlfriend."

"It wouldn't be so awkward if they would keep their hands off of each other," Isabel replied with a smirk. Inside, something started screaming at her not to make friends with complete strangers, but this boy seemed really nice, and she decided to throw caution to the winds. "Buy me a coffee?"

John shot a pointed look at Isabel's full coffee cup. "You've already got one," he remarked.

"Buy me another?" Isabel asked flirtatiously, leaning in towards him.

"Izzy!" Max's voiced was filled with censure now, and Isabel rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Relax," John said, glancing over at Max. "I'm not going to corrupt your sister." He took the seat next to Isabel and asked, "So, do you know the band that's playing?"

"Oh, the guitarist invited me to drop by," Isabel replied casually.

"You know him?" John questioned, intrigued. "Are you guys…you know…dating?" His eyes flicked quickly to the stage where Alex and the rest of the band were setting up their instruments.

"No," Isabel replied quickly. "We're just friends."

"So I wouldn't be stepping on anyone's toes if I bought you that coffee you asked for?" Chris continued leaning closer to Isabel and giving her a brilliant smile.

Isabel stared up into his eyes, feeling almost as though she could get lost in them. "No…you wouldn't," she said softly, her voice lower than normal. "You wouldn't be at all."

"Alright, Isabel Evans," John said. "I'll buy you that second coffee then."

"Thank you, John Harrison," Isabel answered graciously. She looked up at the stage for a moment, then asked, "What do your parents do?"

"My dad is the West Coast manager of Montgomery International and my mom works in the public affairs department at the international headquarters for Prada," John replied.

Isabel gasped. Montgomery International was a trendy knew chain that had opened only a years earlier, and Prada was…well, Prada was Prada.

"Yeah, fashion runs in the family," John said, shaking his head in annoyance. "Since I was old enough to understand the concept of matching colors, my mother won't let me leave the house if I don't look classy."

Isabel laughed. "That must be so amazing though, having parents who work so high up in fashion." She frowned, then shook her head. "Or, at least, it would be if you were a girl."

John gave her a smile and shook his head. This girl was funny and beautiful and easy to talk to, and sitting with her beat sitting by himself and watching everyone else talk to their respective dates.

Isabel glanced down at her hands, sneaking a shy glance at John, who was now looking in the other direction. John seemed nice enough, and she didn't want to be a third wheel to her brother and Liz.

Behind them, Max and Liz had stopped talking long enough to listen to the conversation. Max was inwardly fuming at the way this guy had charmed his sister, and his hands were clenched into fists. He wished vaguely that Michael was here, between the two of them they could easily scare off this guy.

"He's only here for a few days, what could happen?" Liz whispered, knowing instinctively what was going through Max's mind.

Max glared at John's back but nodded at the truth in Liz's words.

Up on stage, Alex watched the interaction between Isabel and the strange man who had sat down next to her, and realized with a sudden jolt that he was the type of person who, to Isabel, would always be the friend, but never the boyfriend.

Just the third wheel.

Maria walked out into the hallway and glanced around. Her bloodshot eyes burned, having shed do many tears. Her voice was hoarse, and her throat thick, as though filled with cotton. There was a tightness in her chest that pressed in on her, making her claustrophobic.

She had just talked to her father for the first time in…ever.

"Maria?"

Maria spun around to see Dr. Drake standing there, leaning against the wall, regarding her with sympathy in his eyes. "Hey," she said slowly, forcing the words from her dry lips.

"Are you alright?" Drake asked in concern.

"Of course," Maria sniffed, wiping the back of her hand over her eyes. "I'm just a little stressed out right now."

"If you need anything, even just someone to talk to…" Drake let the offer hand in the air, half-hoping Maria would take it.

"Thanks, but I'm okay," Maria replied. "I've got my friends, and my Dad is coming to town soon."

"Really?" Drake raised an eyebrow. "I got the impression that your father wasn't really a factor in your life, or your mother's."

"He wasn't," Maria replied, "but he is now." She looked away and continued, more to herself than to the doctor, "He has to be."

"Is Mr. Guerin going to come keep you company?" Drake asked politely, forcing his tone to be casual. He didn't want to scare her away, didn't want to make it sound as though he was prying for information on them, but after doing some research on Maria and her friends, he had discovered almost nothing unusual about her past.

Almost nothing…

Michael Guerin.

The boy who had pulled Amy DeLuca from a burning car, and escaped with only a burn. They boy who had shown up by himself at the age of six, wandering around the desert, somehow miraculously alive. The boy who had been identified by eyewitnesses as one of the two who had run towards Liz Parker when she got shot in the Crashdown…

If Drake hadn't known better, he would have sworn this kid was Superman.

"Michael?" Maria frowned. "Why would he?"

"Well…he's been here a lot, and you seem like you need someone to talk to…" Drake gestured at her red-rimmed eyes. "I just thought maybe he would stop by."

"I doubt it," Maria replied somewhat bitterly. "He probably doesn't even remember that I was going to call my Dad today." She walked over to a chair and sank into, her expression drawn, her thoughts going back to her earlier conversation.

"Maria?"

"Yes, Sean, it's me," Maria replied quietly, unsure how best to proceed.

"How are you?" Sean asked, and it was evident he had no idea what to say either. "How's Amy?"

"She's in a coma," Maria snapped, her anger bubbling under the surface. "She's in a coma, and since you never bothered to divorced the woman you left sixteen years ago, you are her closest of kin." She spat the words out, hating that she had to say them.

"Amy's in a coma?" Sean gasped. "How?"

"Car accident," Maria replied dully, her anger fading as quickly as it had come.

"Are you alright?" Sean asked.

"What do you think?" Maria shot back. Again, the anger fared, taking her on an emotion roller coaster ride.

"Of course you aren't alright. I'm sorry, that was a stupid question. I'll be on the next flight out, Maria. I'll be there as soon as I can," Sean promised.

"Lucky me," Maria replied coolly.

There was a pregnant pause, then Sean said, "I never wanted to leave you two, Maria. It was the hardest thing I've ever done, and I think of you everyday…"

"You walked out on us, Sean!" Maria hissed. "You left Mom and I. I don't care how hard it was for you, I don't care if you missed us, I don't care if you wanted to stay, because you didn't. You are supposed to be my father and you failed! You don't get points for effort."

"Are you sure you are alright? You don't want to talk about anything?"

Drake's words pulled Maria out of her thoughts, and she gave him a soft smile. "Yeah, I'm fine," she lied, knowing she would never be able to put what she was thinking and feeling into words.

Drake nodded, unconvinced, but walked away, and Maria leaned back against the wall, listening to the sounds of the hospital. The clicking of shoes on the floor, the scratchy noise emitted by the flickering lights, the constant buzz and crackle of the intercom… She didn't know how long she sat there; seconds, minutes, hours…

And then…

"Maria?"

Maria sat up and glanced around. She looked down at her watch and realized she had been sitting in the same spot for almost two hours. She yawned and shook her head, then glanced back at the alien in front of her.

"Michael? What are you doing here?" she asked in confusion.

Michael took a seat next to her. "You said you were calling your father today. I wanted to come by and make sure you were alright."

Maria felt a lump form in her throat and she looked down at her hands. "Thanks," she managed. "I'm…okay."

"Liar," Michael muttered, but he didn't press the issue. "Do you want to talk at all?" he asked quietly.

"No."

"Okay."

The two sat there in silence, each staring blankly ahead, lost in their own thoughts.

Next Chapter: Enter the Prodigal Father

Due: Fri 3/24