Title: Details in the Fabric

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: I've had a few questions about Liz's powers, so I figured I should address the issue here. She has premonitions like she did on the show, but she also has the ability to pull things out of people's minds. Essentially, she can mind-rape, similar to what Nicolas could do. As for how they are related… they're not really, I guess, except that they are both mental powers similar to having visions. They are about as related as Max's ability to heal and to create a force-field shield.

Summary: Sequel to Time After Time. AU Season Three. In the end, it's the little things that can pull a group together. And it's the little things that can tear them apart.


Chapter Twenty-Nine: A Moment of Peace

Isabel looked around carefully, scrutinizing the dining room. The table cloth was a new one her mother had bought the previous weekend. It was a rustic brown with red embroidered leaves along the edges, and it contrasted rather beautifully with the cream-colored china that they used for special occasions. The table was covered in dishes of potatoes, squash, corn, bread rolls, and a silver platter of turkey with a matching gravy boat. The centerpiece was a vase of dark red and orange flowers and the occasional bright green shoot of long grass.

Everything looked perfect.

It made her want to burst into tears.

"Mom went all out, didn't she?"

Isabel started, and turned at the sound of Max's voice. She hadn't heard him approach, but he was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, his arms folded across his chest, his gaze fixed on the table.

"Yeah," Isabel agreed with a sigh. "She really did."

Max didn't say anything else, and Isabel knew that he was likely thinking the same thing she was. This could very well be their last Thanksgiving, and though that thought was something that had bothered the four of them for a while now, Isabel had been unaware of the fact that it must have occurred to her mother, too.

Thanksgiving was always impressive in their house, but this was more than that. Their mother had apparently cooked for the four days leading up to this dinner.

"I didn't want them to be worrying about that," Max whispered finally. "I didn't want…"

"They know that we're in danger," Isabel answered. "They know a war is coming. They know the risks, they know that we could die, and that…"

"And that even if we don't die, we might still have to leave?" Max finished.

Isabel nodded glumly. It was something else they had not spoken about with their parents, but there was the very real possibility that they would have to return to Antar when this was all over. And despite their best efforts to avoid thinking of that particular topic, their parents had apparently figured it out.

"She wants a perfect Thanksgiving," Isabel said. "We should give it to her. No being moody, no being preoccupied with the war or the skins or… or Khivar…"

Max nodded in agreement. "I think we can manage that."


Diane supposed that all parents believed they had wonderful children. Or, at least, most parents. After all, a mother's perspective on her child was never objective, even if the child was not biologically hers.

Even if the child was not biologically fully human.

But halfway through the soup course, she decided that her children were more than wonderful. They were practically perfect.

She had spent the better part of the previous week worried about Thanksgiving. She was far more aware of what was happening all around her than Max or Isabel wanted to believe, and she understood just how close this battle was. These enemies – the skins, she knew they were called, although she still wasn't entirely sure why – could attack at any moment. The end of the war was coming, and it was coming soon.

And she had no idea what it would bring. She had never really understood what it felt like for mother's of soldiers to know that their sons were off fighting wars to protect the United States. That their sons were willing to die to protect people they didn't even know. She had never been able to imagine that kind of constant pride and fear.

But she understood it now. The past few months had taught her that.

And just like the mothers of those soldiers, there was nothing she could do to protect her children. They slept under her roof and ate her food and smiled at her in the morning as they rushed off to school, and it would have been so easy to forget that they were more than just normal teenagers.

But they were so much more than that.

Max had been moody for a long time. And some of it was the war and some of it was Liz, and Diane had been able to do absolutely nothing about either of those. And Isabel had been so afraid for such a long time, and these fears were no longer nightmares that Diane could soothe away with a few comforting words.

So she had been worried about Thanksgiving. It could very well be their last. And she didn't know which scared her more – the possibility of her children dying, or of them living and then leaving her behind, travelling to a planet far beyond even her imagination. Either way, she would never see them again.

And if she was to only have a few last holidays with them – this Thanksgiving, and maybe Christmas as well – she wanted the memories to be perfect. But with the constant gloom that had hung over all of them for so long, she had expected today to be glum and depressing.

So it was with more than a little bit of surprise that she witnessed both her children make every effort to smile and be cheerful during the dinner.

At first, she didn't understand it. When Isabel told her that the gravy was amazing, she blinked in bewilderment and stumbled over her words as she thanked her daughter for the compliment. When Max said he liked the new table cloth, she and Philip exchanged surprised looks.

And then she caught sight of the quick glance that passed in between her children, and she realized that they were doing this for her. They were smiling through their fears and forcing a lightness and happiness that had been absent from their home for a long time. They were going out of their way to make Thanksgiving perfect.

She had remarkable children.

"The turkey is amazing," Isabel said.

"Thank you," Diane answered. "It is a new recipe. I decided it would be much better than the normal one I usually make. You always complained that it was dry and overcooked."

"This one is better," Max agreed. "But maybe it is the quality of the turkey that makes it better. Maybe it is an exceptional turkey."

"Well, it had better be," Philip said with a laugh. "I had to fight off to other people at the supermarket to get it. Everyone goes crazy on Thanksgiving."

"I'm impressed, Dad," Max remarked. "Didn't think you would do something like fight over a turkey."

"You mother wanted the best turkey there," Philip answered with a shrug and a slight grin. "I couldn't disappoint her." Then his expression changed and he added, "I met Tess there. She was after turkey, too."

"Kyle's in town for Thanksgiving," Isabel explained. "I'm sure she wanted the best as well."

Diane pushed the mashed potato dish back and forth on her plate. "That must be very nice for the two of them. Kyle hasn't been back since the summer, has he?"

"No," Max answered. "I haven't spoken to him since he left, but Tess says he is enjoying the program."

There was something off about Max's voice, and the way Isabel's eyes widened at those words was enough of a give away. Tess might have passed along that message, but neither Isabel nor Max believed it. Which wasn't a surprise, given the details of Jim's death.

It wasn't the time to dwell on that, though, so Diane changed the subject. "I'm sorry Michael couldn't join us for Thanksgiving," she said.

"I think he's happier at Maria's," Max replied with a knowing smirk.

"Indeed," Philip agreed.

They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes, then Isabel asked, "Are we going go around and say the things we are thankful for?"

Diane's eyebrow rose. "You usually try to avoid that tradition," she said pointedly. Dinner always ended with the same tradition, a requirement that they all say the things they were thankful for. In the beginning, Max and Isabel had participated eagerly in that ritual, but as they got older, they both tended to find it ridiculous. She supposed all teenagers at some point lost interest in their parents' sentimental ideas, and her children were no exception to the rule.

Isabel chewed her lip. "Right. Well, I guess my opinions changed."

"I still don't like it," Max offered.

Isabel rolled her eyes good-naturedly at him.

"What?" Max defended himself from his sister's glare. "I'm just being honest."

"You don't have anything to be thankful for?" Isabel demanded.

"Of course I do. I just don't like mush," Max replied.

"This coming from the guy who spent years staring with pathetically lovesick eyes at Liz," Isabel snapped.

"Pathetic?" Max retorted with mock hurt.

"Well, I am thankful for this wonderful turkey," Philip cut into the argument, giving Diane an amused look at their children's bickering. "And for Thanksgiving itself. It's a great holiday, you know. A chance to slow down and realize all the wonderful things you have in your life. Of course, all the stories about the pilgrims and Native Americans working together that first winter are a bit exaggerated and don't take into consideration the epidemics and warfare, but the myth is a good one. Even if it isn't based in fact Cooperation should be emphasized as much as possible. And it certainly isn't nowadays."

"I'm thankful for any holiday that gives us days off of school," Max said.

"And shopping. The sales tomorrow are going to be amazing," Isabel added.

"It is good to see you have the proper perspective," Philip said dryly.

"Dad, you don't understand," Isabel protested. "I saw these absolutely incredible boots. Black, knee-high, a bit of faux fur around the top. I know it's a little too warm for Roswell winters, but you never know when you're going to need something like that in the future. I won't be in Roswell forever, and I've applied to schools in places with rather cold winters. I'm going to need an entirely new wardrobe."

"And Dad is going to need an entirely new bank account," Max remarked with a smirk.

"Trust me, when you see these boots, you will understand that it is totally worth it," Isabel retorted. "So that is what I'm thankful for. New boots."

"But you don't have the boots yet," Max protested.

"But I will," Isabel said confidently, turning to her father with a winning smile. "Right?"

"We'll talk about this after dinner," Philip answered.

"What are you thankful for, Max?" Diane questioned, deciding now would be an appropriate time to move the conversation away from her daughter's clothing habits.

Max hesitated, then said quietly, "I'm thankful for family. I'm thankful that you were the ones who found us. I don't think… I haven't said that lately, and I haven't said that enough, but… but that's what I'm thankful for. No matter what happens, I'm thankful that you are my parents."

There was an absolute silence in the room.

Isabel arched an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't like mush."

Max crumpled up his napkin and threw it at her.


"Do you need any help Ms. DeLuca?" Michael asked as he leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen. "I can carve the turkey if you need.

Amy straightened, holding the tray of turkey in her hands. "Maria and I have done Thanksgiving without men for a very long time, Michael," she chided lightly. "We aren't quite damsels in distress."

"I wasn't suggesting that," Michael said quickly, holding his hands up in a sign of defense. "Believe me, Ms. DeLuca, I will never suggest that either of you are damsels in distress. I just want to help in any way I can."

Amy glanced past Michael to the dining room where Maria was humming as she set the table. Actually humming. It had been a long time since she had seen Maria so happy.

"I think you've helped enough already," Amy answered with a soft smile.

Jim had once told her that Michael was a good person, that underneath his rough exterior and cautious persona was a boy who cared so much for his family and his friends. And she had finally started to see that last year, particularly around the time of Jim's death. She had sensed the change in her daughter these past few weeks, but it was also clear that whatever argument had driven the two teenagers apart, it was finally over.

She wasn't blind; she saw the way her daughter looked at Michael and the way Michael looked at her daughter.

"Are you sure there is nothing I can do?" Michael pressed, looking uncomfortable at Amy's suddenly perceptive gaze. He couldn't quite meet her eyes, and when he did, there was a hint of apprehension.

She grinned inwardly. It was good to know that she could still inspire fear in her daughter's boyfriend.

"We're just happy you decided to join us," Amy replied. "Maria said you were invited to Diane and Philip's house as well."

"Yeah, they invite me every year," Michael replied. "But… I'm glad I'm here."

Amy turned and set the turkey on the counter. The kitchen was filled with the smell of potatoes and pumpkin, all ready to be served. And she was getting hungry.

"I invited Kyle and Tess, you know," Amy said. "Tess declined, but she was so polite about it. I think I caught her off-guard. I know she wanted to spend time with Kyle, but still… I don't like the idea of the two of them being alone on Thanksgiving."

She glanced at Michael just in time to see him grimace. She had gotten the exact same reaction from Maria when she mentioned her invitation to Tess and Kyle. And that grimace had been followed by relief upon learning that the two had not accepted the invitation. Their presence would have no doubt make things… interesting.

Still, she was sure that had Jim still been alive, they would have had Thanksgiving dinner together. And some part of her felt that she needed to look out for Tess and Kyle because they had been Jim's children and she had loved him.

"They aren't alone," Michael said finally. "They have each other."

"The first Thanksgiving after Jim's death," Amy murmured. "I think they might need more than that."

Michael shrugged. "I know. And I am sure Isabel came to the same conclusion. You can rest assured, Ms. DeLuca, that before the evening is over, Max and Isabel will show up at Tess' apartment and make themselves at home. Whether they are welcome or not."

"Hmm…?" Amy reached for a knife and started to carve the turkey. "Forcing themselves upon a family that has expressed hesitation?" she commented, her mind going back to her first several meetings with Michael, to how much she had disliked him, how much she had wanted him to stay away from her daughter. "Sound like anyone you know?"

"Oh, Michael's grows on people," Maria's voice announced as she slipped past Michael and entered the kitchen. "It just takes a while. He's an acquired taste. Like spinach or asparagus."

Amy laughed.

"I'd rather we didn't compare me to vegetables," Michael grumbled.

"Vegetables are good for you," Amy pointed out. "They're nutritious."

"That's what I've always wanted to hear," Michael grumbled. "That I'm nutritious."


Tess was starting to get annoyed.

At first, it had just been Max and Isabel, and although she hadn't been thrilled by their sudden appearance at her door, she also hadn't been particularly surprised. Isabel had greeted Kyle warmly, as though they were old friends and Kyle had reciprocated, if a bit warily.

He'd responded less pleasantly to Max, but she hadn't expected the two of them to place nice. Whatever peace they had managed to make at the end of the year had clearly not made up for the bad blood that had existed between them before that. Still, they weren't at each other's throat, so Tess took that as a good sign.

Max and Isabel had been followed by Michael and Maria. Tess was a bit surprised about Michael's appearance, even though he lived in the apartment right next door. But it was really Maria who astonished her the most. After all, it wasn't like Maria had ever really made any attempt to pretend that she enjoyed spending time with either Tess or Kyle.

And she was making no attempts at it now. The pixie blonde grumbled constantly – and only partially good-naturedly – as Michael practically dragged her through the door, muttering something about not wanting to spend time with Tess or Kyle on a holiday that was supposed to make her feel grateful for the things in her life.

Kyle had looked up at her and drawled, "You don't feel grateful for me, DeLuca? I'm hurt."

Maria had glared at him, and Tess had laughed, and the tension had eased somewhat.

But now…

Now this was starting to get ridiculous.

"Liz, what are you doing here?" Tess demanded as she opened the door one last time. The brunette was standing in the hallway holding a small grocery bag in one hand and wearing a bright smile. Alex was hovering behind her, craning his neck to see past the petite blonde.

"I figured that everyone would be here," Liz explained as she slipped past Tess into the room, Alex following and closing the door behind him.

"Oh?" Tess pressed.

Liz shrugged. "Well, I figured that Max and Isabel would definitely come by because its your first Thanksgiving since…" she trailed off, looking uncomfortable, "since… you know…" She was unable to say the words, but it wasn't like Tess needed her to elaborate.

She'd spent most of the day thinking about Jim, anyway.

"And then I thought Michael would come, too," Liz said, pushing onwards in her explanation. "And he was having dinner at Maria's, so I figured Maria would be here, too. So I called Alex and we decided to come. I mean, it's Thanksgiving. You should spend it with your family, right?"

"And somehow you think that we're family?" Tess asked skeptically. "You do remember that I've spent much of the past decade trying to make you miserable, right?"

"Yes, we remember," Alex cut in. "But since we don't know how many more holidays we will get to celebrate together in the future, and because this is the first Thanksgiving without Sheriff Valenti, we though it would be a good idea to…"

"Invade my privacy and drive me insane?" Tess cut in, eyebrows raised.

"Well, I was going to go with stop by to show our caring and support," Alex replied, "but your reasoning works, too."

Tess glanced over at Kyle. He was sitting at the table, holding a cup of tea in his hands and watching the entire proceeding with a mixture of surprise and bemusement in his eyes. She knew he had never quite wrapped his head around the fact that she did really have an entire other family besides him, and that no matter how rarely she got along with the others, they were all in this mess together.

He understood it partially, and in theory. It was why he hadn't asked her to come with him when he left during the summer. It was part of the reason he had reluctantly agreed that she needed to return to Roswell when Isabel was falling apart.

But it was more than just responsibility. It was actual concern and caring, and the proof of it was right here before him.

He seemed to like seeing it, seemed to take some reassurance in the fact that she still had people watching out for her.

Still, his utter disregard for the invasion of their privacy was a bit annoying.

"Why aren't you here yelling at them with me?" Tess asked sharply, narrowing her eyes at her brother.

"Because I'm kind of enjoying watching this," Kyle answered honestly. He looked over at Isabel and asked, "Do you place bets on who will win? Normally I'd put my money on Tess, but Liz has this whole scarily determined look in her eyes, so I'm starting to have my doubts."

Isabel chuckled. "I know what you mean. Plus, if Alex is backing up Liz, then it's two-to-one. So the odds are really in Liz's favor."

"Okay, seriously," Tess said fiercely, hands on her hips, "all of you get out."

"Oh, but we so wanted to be here," Maria practically simpered, a faint edge of sarcasm in her voice.

"And I brought popcorn," Liz protested, holding up the grocery bag and displaying the bags of popcorn inside. "I'll just go put it in the microwave."

And she walked past Tess towards the kitchen.

"Don't make me mind-warp you!" Tess called out threateningly.

Liz paused in the doorway and turned back, a smile in her eyes. "Don't make me use my nifty new powers on you."

"What are you going to do, pull secrets out of my brain?" Tess asked. "I hate to break this to you, Liz, but I'm not actually that subtle in my feelings. I think I've made it pretty clear that I don't like you."

"Come on, sit down, Tess," Max said with a yawn. "You lost the argument the moment you opened the door. I really doubt you can convince Liz to leave."

"Oh, so you're taking Liz's side, are you?" Tess said, smirking suggestively. "Are you going to hold her hand and help her make the microwave work, too?" She watched in amusement as both Max and Liz flushed at her remark, and then said, "If you revert back to your pathetically lovesick self, Max, I'm never speaking to you again."

"What is it with people calling me pathetic today?" Max demanded, looking between Tess and Isabel.

"People call you that everyday, Maxwell," Michael replied. "They just normally do it behind your back."

"Oh, I do it to his face," Isabel said cheerfully.

Max glared at her.

"So, can we stay?" Alex asked, folding his arms over his chest and looking at Tess.

Tess looked around the room. Isabel was leaning against the wall by Kyle's seat, and Alex was crossing towards her. Max had started inching towards Liz, and Maria had taken the seat next to Kyle. Michael was standing behind her, hands resting on the back of her chair.

Tess sighed. "Fine. But only because you brought popcorn."


The FBI agent straightened and looked around the apartment one last time. All of the cameras were in place, hidden well enough that no one would notice unless they were actively looking for them. It had been a risk to come here, particularly now with the others in the apartment next door. But it had been a risk worth taking, and it had been a success.

He let himself out of the apartment and carefully relocked it with his lock-picking kit.

Michael Guerin's apartment was bugged, and all he had to do was sit back and see what he learned.


Next Chapter: Now or Never

Due: Sun 3/20