By Didi
Disclaimer: I don't own Roswell... though I really wish I did, can you just imagine what fun I'd have with it. No profits are being made by this little endeavor and none will be made in the future. Any infringement up anyone's rights, ownership or claims is wholly unintentional and done without malice. Let me know and I'll stop.
Timeline: On the road less traveled, I'm completely lost now and turned about.
Ratings: I guess PG-13 is still a good rating for this one... unless someone has an objection.
Chapter Summary: Alex lets something slip, Kyle has a meeting, Isabel confronts Michael, Liz comes of an understanding and Maria gets a visitor.
Key: "Spoken" "Thoughts."
Author's Note: Wow... I hadn't realize I left this section blank the last time. Basically what I had meant to say was that I apologize for the length of time between updates. My life is kind of chaotic at the moment and I try to write when I can and still manage to keep things at least semi interesting so people might actually read it. (shrug) But I guess you'd be the judge of what's actually readable and what's not.
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Chapter 51 – Meeting of the Minds
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Alex jogged along the sidewalk, headphone on full volume and ignoring the beads of sweat pouring down the hollow of his back. The physical exertion had been his father's idea, if you're going to be nerd, it's best to be a nerd with a little bit of muscle. And jogging was the least bruising exercise that he could come up with. He squinted at bright sun overhead and wondered by he had decided to go running at four in the afternoon instead of a cooler time.
Shaking his head, he wondered why he was even questioning it. He knew exactly why he was out running: to clear his head. And why did he need to clear his head, cause his life went down the toilet the day Liz Parker told him that there were aliens living among them. And today…
Stopping by a tree, Alex took several deep breaths.
Today had been a interesting new insight to the world of the unknown. All day long, either Michael or Max were by Tess's side each time Alex saw her in the hall. While the two hanging around her wasn't a great surprise given this bond that she seemed to have somehow managed to forge with them, the was the look on their faces that gave Alex pause. There was purpose, intent, and just a hint of fear that barely touched the surface but was there nevertheless. And Alex was certain that whatever got put the fear of God in those guys was not something he wants to mess with.
A muffled "Hey," caught Alex's attention and he attempted to turn and straighten at the same time… and only succeeded in twisting himself about and nearly falling embarrassingly on his rear end.
Even against the glaring sun, the smile was bright with a strange kind of inner energy. But Alex felt cold against the directness of her gaze. Slowly reaching up, he pulled the buds of the headphones from his ears and stared at the being before him. "Isabel."
Tossing back a lock of golden hair, Isabel smiled a little more sweetly at the sweaty teenager that may hold her life and safety in his hand. "This isn't exactly the kind of weather people should be running in. Ever heard of heatstroke?"
"That's why I have water with me," Alex replied hesitantly as he shook the bottle in his hand, a little apprehensive around the blond goddess. There was no one that could ruin your life faster in Roswell High then the current reigning princess.
"Still," she said quietly as she beckon him to walk with her. "It can't possibly be healthy for anyone."
"Exercise is suppose to be good for all."
"Maybe."
Alex reframed from asking whether or not the alien trio had to exercise at all to maintain their beautiful physiques.
"Can I ask you a question?" Isabel said quietly as she followed him around the block..
"I guess."
"Why are you helping us?" she wanted to know. It was a question that's haunted her for a while, ever since the whole geo-dome incident. "You do realize that by helping us, you put yourself in the path of danger, right? I mean, that can't have escaped your understanding of the situation."
"I'm not stupid, Isabel," Alex replied irritably, his annoyance overcoming his weariness of this slightly unexpected meeting. "I do understand that this isn't exactly your everyday kind of things and what I'm doing may be slightly unpatriotic and maybe even a little illegal."
"How is it illegal?" Isabel answered.
"Well…" he tried, really did try to come up with a good answer but found that he really couldn't. "Well, breaking and entering a private facility back in Texas wasn't exactly the stuff they teach in Boy Scout. Looks…"
"I just want to know why," Isabel interrupted with a look of frustration. "I'm not ungrateful that you're keeping our secrets and that I do appreciate your helping us with…"
"Not you," Alex said firmly and shook his head. "Not you exactly," he amended because it came out a lot harsher than he had expected it to. "I'm doing this for Tess and Maria… and maybe even for Michael. You just happen to be mixed up in this," he gave her an apologetic look that softened the rejection he just delivered. "I'm sure you're a really nice person and all but you and I aren't exactly friends. I wouldn't risk life and limb for you."
"But you'd do it for Tess?" She asked curiously, "What's up with that girl? Does every guy she meets have to protect her in some way?"
"Yes, and Maria," Alex added steadily, a little disbelieving that anyone would question that. "They're my friends," he knew that in his heart that Tess and Maria wouldn't hurt him or his. Though he still had questions about Tess and her origins but that's something entirely different than what's being asked now. Alex may not be good a lot of things, but he wasn't ever very far off in judging character. "Plus they asked for my help."
"Asked," she repeated, almost to herself. "All they had to do was ask."
"Yes," Alex answered watching her eyes with some concerned. A part of him wanted to ask when the last time Isabel Evans has ever allowed anyone but her inner circles know her. A small part of him suddenly felt sad for her. What must it have been like to go through life without anyone you can trust? Even your parents. "Must have been awfully lonely."
Isabel nodded though she still lacked the fundamental understanding of why Alex Whitman would give so much for what was essentially nothing in return. She looked at him with new eyes, "You have a very big heart."
Alex frowned at her. "Thank you?"
"I was just making an observation," she replied, feeling suddenly awkward. "Well, I guess I better get going and…"
"Yeah," Alex nodded also feeling weirded out. "Oh, if you see Michael, would you tell him that I still haven't found a program that will efficiently translate those symbols he wanted to see; though having a page of the stuff is really helpful."
"What?" she blinked her surprise.
"Yeah," Alex agreed unconsciously as he bent to tie his shoelaces, "Linguistic programs do better with more than less. With more, it can work out variables and likely combinations and stuff. And character languages are especially hard; I'm looking into some of the new Chinese programs to see if we can retool them for translation." Truthfully, he was kind of excited about this. The challenge of the programs would be a great practice for computer science classes in college. "I'll keep you guys updated as I go," he assured when he looked up to find her staring at him. "Don't worry, I'm being really discreet in my research; nobody will ever suspect anything. And I'll let you know as soon as I find anything."
"Please do," she replied softly, her eyes reflecting her displeasure. "Apparently, you're the only one that does."
-&-&-&-
"Kyle Valenti?"
Looking up and squinting against the bright sun, Kyle made an attempt to avert his eyes as he tried to he look into the shadowed face above him. "Who wants to know?"
"My name is Donald Pierce," the shadowed man replied, sitting down on the low bricked area outside the high school gym, bring his face to eye level with the suddenly apprehensive Kyle. "And I think you and I need to talk."
Kyle was smart enough and weary enough with the happenings around town to be suspicious. "Um… I was told never to talk to stra…" the last word was cut off as the well-dressed man reached into his breast pocket. Kyle tensed for a moment, thinking all sorts of bad thoughts related to gangster movies before the hand came out with a thin black wallet. "Look if you're thinking about brib…" again he was cut off by the sight of the ID that flashed before him: FBI. "Oh."
"Now," Pierce began, putting his badge away; his annoyance with the questioning teens barely visible on the surface, "Tell me about…" he frowned as the melodic tones of Beethoven's Symphony No. 9 interrupted him.
"Hold that thought," Kyle said apologetically and fumbled for his phone. Turning only partially away, a habit learned from his father; never take your eye off the suspect... or in this case, stranger. "Hello?"
"Kyle? It's Isabel."
"Hey Issy, can I call you back?"
"Yeah but… um… where are you?"
"I'm at the school. Look, I'll call you back later, okay?"
"Yeah, that's fine," Isabel replied.
"Good, bye." He didn't even wait for a reply before hanging up the phone. Giving the FBI man a weak smile, he shrugged and put the cell phone again. "My ex."
Pierce didn't comment on it; he didn't particularly cared. "Now, tell me everything you know about the dead agent you found."
-&-&-&-
Michael shut the front door of the Valenti's house and looked around the silence room for a moment. "Sheriff? Kyle?" no answer was forthcoming. Going to the kitchen, he looked through the protruding window for a moment and saw that no vehicles were parked in their respective spots. With a more caution look around through the window and around the empty kitchen, Michael opened up the top cupboard of the kitchen, the useless little cabinet on top of the refrigerator that no one can get to without a step ladder… well, no one under 6 feet anyways. Standing on his tiptoe, he reached into the back allowing his hand to pass through the false wall that he had created several weeks ago, following his silent but harrowing return from Marathon, Texas and pulled the metal spiral bound book from it's impossibly secretive hiding place.
Letting out the sigh of relief, Michael dusted off the metal face of the book and fingered the etched symbols across the front. The slightly indented surface with its familiar but foreign etched symbols still gave him chills. Flipping through several slates of metal that had dense, compact etchings, he came to the only pictures worked in the spiral notebook; four pictorial etching to be exact… of Max, Michael, Isabel and Tess.
Running his rough, callous fingers over the indentation in the metal, Michael felt a chill of fear run up and down his spine. Judging by the writings, the slight scraping of the edges and the location in which they… he found the book, it was older than he was and three times the mystery that surrounds him.
Running his hand roughly over his face, Michael sighed from deep within and felt a moment of trepidation. He had to tell the others about the notebook and soon. It wasn't right, him keeping this secret from them knowing that they needed to know… especially about these pictures of themselves in a book that was created well before they ever came to being. The implications of that was like something about a bad science fiction novel; and too frightening to think about.
Michael reached out to pick up the phone just as the door bell rang, startling him out of his skin. Shaking his head and calling himself an idiot, he shoved the metal notebook under the sofa seat cushion and headed for the door just as the bell rang again. A third ring quickly followed, barely giving the second chime of the door time to fade, radiating impatience.
Before he could get half way across the living room, the front door slide open without so much as a squeak. Michael ducked behind the wall that cut the living room and dining room off from the front. Holding himself perfectly still, he felt a presence entered the door and shut the door behind them. Reading himself, he took a breath and wait until the figure moved just behind the edge of the wall and jumped out.
Isabel screamed so loudly and instinctively blocked with her hand but not with her powers that Michael jumped back away from her.
"What the hell!"
Her breath caught at her throat, she stared wide-eyed at him. "Michael!"
"What are you doing here?" he hissed and glanced around the house.
"I came to see you," Isabel replied softly as she allowed him to guide her toward the sofa, one hand still over her thumping heart. She hadn't expected anyone in the house, not really even though she knew there was a chance. But she had called Kyle and saw the sheriff through the police station window when she drove pass, she hadn't known that Michael would be there.
Michael frowned at her, not quite sure why he didn't particularly believe her. "Why?"
"What do you mean why?" she snapped back, her fear now eliminated by other thoughts: the ones that had brought her here. "When did I need a reason to see you?"
He raised his brows at him, a little startled by the sudden attack. "Since the shit hit the fan and I live in your ex-boyfriend's house."
That silenced Isabel for a moment as she sat there fuming, watching Michael watching her. For a moment, she felt a weird sense of déjà vu. In her mind, a Michael but not the Michael she knew now stood over her seated form watching her with steady amused eyes. His wore a uniform of red and black, a golden cord draped across his chest over the royal purple sash that distinguished him from the rest of the ranks. She could see herself reaching up, tugging playfully at the cord, laughingly teasing him just before he snatched her hand in his, holding it firmly against his chest in a manner that was respectful but possessive. That in a blink of an eye, something had been conveyed wordlessly through that one touch, in that one look.
"Issy?" Michael waved his hand over her face, watching her eyes come back into focus. "Where'd you go?"
An uncomfortable warmth crept up her neck and Isabel forcibly pushed the dreadfully embarrassing thought of reaching up and placing her hand against his heart to the back of her mind. "I came here to ask you a question."
Surprised that the usually straightforward (straightforward with him anyways) Isabel Evans was avoiding his question, Michael nevertheless let it go and nodded his head in response. "Yes?"
Golden eyes narrowed dangerously as the true purpose of her visit came rushing back to her. "When did we grow so far apart that you decided it would be okay to keep vital information from Max and me?"
"What? What are you talking about?" he stared at her for a moment before his betraying eyes flickered for a second to the cushion next to her. Isabel didn't catch the tale-tell look for she was too busy being angry.
"Don't play dumb with me Michael," she admonished with an angry sweep of her hand. "I'm not one of those stupid people that think you're nothing but a bad boy that's got a hard life; I know you better. Where did you find that page of symbols?"
Michael's eyes flashed. "Where you hear about that?"
"Where did you think? From Alex for course."
"He talked about it? I told him not to ever talk about it." his marched around the room, suddenly feeling angry… not at Alex but at himself for ever allowing someone not of his… his kind to get involved with…
"Don't go there," Isabel snapped at him, watching his movement; seeing the agitation there. "Don't be putting this one on Alex. He didn't do anything wrong. He assumed that you had told the rest of us. He's actually being a decent guy about all this… not that you deserve it."
Michael stared, all anger fled. "You're championing Alex Whitman? What happened to 'he's not one of us?'"
Isabel had the grace to blush. "I talked to him," she looked uncomfortably away, know that her behavior in the past have been less then stellar. "He's… he's a good guy that's doing it for all the right reasons to him. I can respect that."
Lacking anything better to say, "Wow."
"Shut up," Isabel replied irritably. "And stop avoiding the question."
Michael shook his head, truly confused now. "What question was that?"
Making a noise that was part frustration and part exasperation, "Where did you get the page of those weird things we keep seeing everywhere?"
There was a long silence for a moment before Michael moved over to her. Isabel held her breath as he suddenly leaned down, putting his body close…a little too close to hers in a manner that was almost intimate. She watched his face, his face impassive as he glanced briefly at her then looked away.
Michael reached under the seat cushion, pulling out the metal spiral notebook, breathed in the light airy perfume he's long sense associated with Isabel and gently placed the notebook in her lap. "I found it in the geo-dome… never got around to telling you guys because… because…" he didn't really have a good reason. Sure, he could cite to the chaos that they've all been living in for the past few weeks, or the recent FBI activities around Roswell, or the fact that the others weren't talking to me at the time of the find... but none of that was good enough to explain why he didn't share this with the others. "Because I didn't know how I feel about it. How the hell do I explain to you all when I don't even know how to explain it to myself?"
Isabel stared at him.
"You know," he said more to himself than to her, "This all started with me just wanting to find out about myself... about us. Where'd we come from? Why are we different? Why are we here? Who the hell sent us? Stupid little things like that that makes a difference to me. So far, I've gotten a hell lot more questions than answers to things and not only that, now everything's been exposed and nothing is safe anymore. I'm not saying that I'm not happy that we found Tessa, cause I am. I don't think I've ever been so happy to see another person in my life. She's everything that people ought to be; good, innocent, naive... she's nothing like me. But since she's come back to us, nothing feels safe anymore. It's like in the next minutes, someone is going to make a mistake and we're all going to be hunted down like some kind of endangered species that needs to be protected or something... or some weird lab experiment that they're going to study and poke and prod and..."
"MICHAEL!" Isabel grabbed his shoulder, stopping his tirade of thought. "Stop it! Just stop it!"
He stared at her, at her frightened upturned face. "And you."
She shook her head, not sure what he's talking but knowing that she wasn't ready to go anywhere there with him.
But Michael wouldn't be denied. "Nothing is the same with you. Nothing is the same with us. We've become different." He reached out and almost touched her face but forced himself to pull away. "This isn't right," backing away from her.
"What isn't?" Isabel asked though not really pretending ignorance of what he was going off on. "Not too long ago, you kissed me."
"It was a mistake," he announced firmly though his eyes was anything but resolved.
The only sign of the sudden stabbing pain in her heart was the slight furrowing of her brows that was there and gone in a blink of an eye. Burying some part of her she didn't even know existed, she reached for the alien notebook. "What is this?"
"I don't know."
"Michael..."
"I don't know," he repeated firmly; something in him hardening against the terrible heaviness that seemed to have settled in his chest. "That's why I gave Alex a little bit of it; I thought maybe he could help."
Isabel clamp her mouth shut against what she thought of the idea, thinking it best not to voice something that would only lead to another argument. Besides which, she didn't have the time nor inclination to go another round with him, not when something in her seemed to have frozen in place. "We need to tell the others."
"I know," he replied, turning away from her so as not to reveal the fact that he was hurting inside knowing that he had to stay away … because it was right. Taking a breath, he slipped his mask of indifference on like a physical cloak against the unseen. "I was actually taking over to your house when you showed up."
"Really?"
"Really," picking up his jacket with one hand grabbing his keys with the other. "Come on, we better get going so I can get back before Valenti comes home. He gets kind of twitchy when I come home late."
"Has he been asking any more…"
"No."
Isabel stood there with her hand still around the book, watching as Michael did his routine of checking all the windows, doors and locks. His hand went to the stove even though he hadn't turned it one when he got home and he checked all the rooms before returning to her. "Do you do that all the time?"
"Habit," he replied but gave not more explanation than that and ushered her out the door, locking it behind him then jiggling the door to make sure it was locked. "And don't open any more doors like that. I didn't teach you that trick for you to play cat burglar."
She walked to the car, suddenly feeling a strange distance between them that's never existed. "I couldn't think of any other way to get in."
"Just don't do it again, especially at Valenti's house. We don't need another reason for him to wonder," Michael said as he got into the car and looked out the window.
Isabel watched him out of the corner of her eyes as she drove. She didn't know what it is yet but suddenly, nothing feels right anymore.
-&-&-&-
Max sat down silently at the counter, watching with steady eyes as Liz moved back and forth between tables with a competent hand. He had almost forgotten how well she moved, fluidly with an almost atrocious efficiency. She was like a excited hummingbird, defying gravity with its sheer strength and yet so very fragile to the touch. He remembered seeing her for the first time: fifth grade, first day back from the summer break, everyone in high spirits and a pretty girl in an ice cream printed dress smiled at him. Everything had been simple then… simple and easy.
"Max," Liz looked surprised as she sat down for a moment with him. "How are you?" she asked softly, gently, not sure of herself.
It killed him to know that he's reduced the once quiet spirit to this bundle of nerves before him. "Hi Liz. I just… I wanted to…" he didn't want to say that he wanted to come and hang out as he's done so many times before… before everything else. He knew he could never have that easy time back again, not after what has happened but he wanted to at least tried to regain something of what he lost; the easy friendship he had with Liz before they became a couple, before they became something else. "I wanted to see how you were doing."
Liz tucked back a lock of her hair and for a moment was transported back eight months prior, when everything had been "normal." She could almost laugh at that word. There was no more normal any more, not ever; not after everything she's found out to date. And while a part of her wanted to shrink back from this being before that wasn't even human, another part of her can't forget the face he wears. This was Max. The same Max that held her hand, kissed her face, sat on her couch and listened to music with her. The same boy that use to hang from the monkey bars and tease her as a child. The same guy that defied the usual steadfast rules of the popular set and dated a nobody. The guy that helped her on homework, brought strange books to share with her, picked up flowers on the side of the road, liked Tobasco sauce, ate french fries with ranch dressing, liked the color blue, has the perfect smile and gave her his undivided attention when she talked, like you're the very center of his world. This was Max.
"Liz?"
She smiled at him, feeling suddenly at ease for the first time since the day for the shooting right here in the diner. "I'm okay."
Max's brows furrowed with confusion. Something just happened, something he had not knowledge of. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah," she nodded and sighed. "You don't have to worry about me; or about what I know. I'm not going to say anything: for your sake."
He believed her; not because he wanted to but because she meant it. He didn't need Isabel or Tess's powers to know that Liz Parker just gave her world and she wasn't going to break it for any reason. Reaching across the table, he hand her hand for a moment. "Thank you."
Liz smiled and gave a quick nod before she noticed certain people watching them and quickly withdrew her hand. "Shoot."
"What?" he wanted to know.
"The guys," she replied nodding her head toward the several tables away. "It's going to get around school."
Max raised a brow. "What's going to get around school?"
One of the things about Max which always annoyed Liz was his complete and utter inability to believe that he was of any interest to anyone. "That you and I are betting back together again."
He pulled back. "We're not," and wished he hadn't said it out loud knowing how that would sound.
"I know that," she rolled her eyes at him. "But anyone that just saw us holding hands are going to assume that we are."
Max shook his head and a gave a silent sigh of relief. "So what? Let them talk if they want." He didn't particularly cared as long as Liz didn't have the wrong idea.
"Max," she said exasperated with him. "They're going to tell Tess," as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He blinked at her, much to her amazement. "Max! Do you really want your girlfriend being told that you were seen holding hands with your ex?" He didn't really react; then again, he was good at that. "What do you think her reaction is going to be?"
"I doubt as extreme as you seem to believe it will be," he replied rather dryly.
"Max!" she admonished rather sternly.
"How did you find out that Tess and I are seeing one another?" Max wanted to know, a little curious as to who would have been insensitive enough to do so. It wasn't exactly common knowledge yet; Tess was too shy and embarrass to allow herself to be seen too often with him at school… though she appears to have no problems allowing the rest of the school to think that she and Michael were a thing. It chaffed that people have been tip-toeing around the subject of Michael and Tess around him not knowing the truth of the matter.
"Tess did, of course," she stared at him in disbelief. "Did you think she was going to leave it for someone else to tell me?" She gave him a good frown to let him know what she thought of his intelligence. "Men!"
A tiny smile made its way across Max's face. "Are you okay with it? Me and Tess?"
Liz shrugged. "Never really had a say in it so it really doesn't matter, does it?"
"It does," he replied seriously. "It matters because you matter." He looked down at his hand, considering his words carefully. "I can't explain this things with Tess; it's like being hit by a flying tackle: you'd never see it coming. I won't say that I'm sorry for it because I'm not; this is unlike anything else in my life and I wouldn't trade it for the world. I'm sorry if you got hurt in all this mess and…"
"Don't," she said quietly, sadly. "Please don't."
"I'm sorry," he said, wishing they weren't in the middle of the semi-busy diner.
"This is the guy I remember," Liz looked up and smiled, "The guy that cared, the guy that knew, that understood, that wouldn't hurt a soul. This is the guy that I'm protecting." She reached out, uncaring now of the gossiping hordes around. "Don't be. I knew, I knew before you and Tess did; I saw it in your eyes."
"Saw what?" he wanted to know, squeezing her hand in return.
"The look you didn't get when you looked at me," she said it truthfully, without bitterness or jealousy. "The kind of look you're suppose to get when you're with someone." She giggled suddenly. "It made Tess really uncomfortable."
"Why?" he asked, taking advantage of this unusual chance to understand the female psyche.
Liz shook her head. "Here you were, dating me and looking at her like she was the latest and greatest dessert on the menu. There she was, trying to start a new school, trying to make friends and you and Michael were getting her name linked to you all in a flattering but awkward situation, a.k.a. the love triangle. And then there's me, watching you watching her watching me watching you. How can you could you have expected her to be okay with all of it?"
"You guys talked?"
"Of course we talked, we're girls. When we have a problem, we work it with words and not fists. I was okay with it and so she was okay with it and that's why you and her are okay. Tess isn't a shank; she'd never let you anywhere near her if she thought for a moment I wasn't okay with it."
Max frowned. "Should I thank you?"
Liz grinned. "Maybe," then got up and got back to work. "Better go tell her what happened today before someone else does and makes a mess of it."
"Liz?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks."
She nodded. "Hey, what are friends for?"
-&-&-&-
Maria jiggled the keys as she tried to maneuver her hand to get the right key while attempting not to upend the two over flowing grocery bag in her other arm. She knew she should have gotten plastic over paper, they make holding onto the bags so much easier, but Tess' insistent lectures on recycling and environmental awareness has taken a toll. After the third try, she was almost considering putting down the paper bag when a hand reached around her and took her keys for her, unlocking and opening the front door, leaving the keys still dangling on the lock.
Turning about she gave a sigh of relief, "Thanks, I didn't think I was…" the rest of the thought was lost in the winds as Maria turned an ash gray at the sight of Hank Guerin. The large paper bags slipped out of her hands and landed on the front step with a loud clunk.
Hank's eyes raked the girl from head to toe and frowned. "You're not her."
Every nerve in Maria's body screamed "RUN!!!" but she stood motionless on the steps, too afraid to move.
"She was shorter," Hank continued on, studying her with narrowing eyes. "Had lighter hair, I think," shaking his head in confusion, his memory a little alcoholically fuzzy. "Blue eyes, the little busybody had blue eyes."
The insult to her sister shook Maria out of her stupor. "Her name is Tess. And you really should remember it."
"Why?" he asked looking both defiant and confused at the same time. "Cause that boy of mine is going to marry her?"
Maria put her fists at her hip and braced her legs. "Well obviously you don't know anything about that 'boy' of your or you'd know that Tess and Michael are friends… the best of friends. And Tess will take you down 'cause she doesn't let anyone hurt her friends."
Hank Guerin paused and thought about this a little and eyed the girl once more. "You're the sister, ain't yea?" The blonde hair and the sharp mouth fit. "You don't look much alike."
"So?" not wanting or needing to go into details. Tess was her sister, blood or no blood, alien or not, and that was simply that. "What's your point?"
He shrugged. "No point, just making an observation, that's all."
Not knowing what to make of that, Maria came to the heart of things. "What do you want?"
For a moment, Hank consider the question as if it was something foreign and new. He was on the verge of changing his mind and turning around to go when he seem to visibly shake himself and stared her in the eyes. "Some FBI guy came around yesterday, started asking lots of questions: questions about Michael. He wanted to know everything, from the day we got the kid to when he left," his hand instinctively went to his jaw and rubbed thoughtfully. "Wanted to know who his friends are, where he hung out, what he did when he's not in school; paid real good money to find out."
Maria's heart skipped a beat. "Keep calm, don't let him see you rattled. You won't be doing anyone any good if you let him know." She clinched her jaw slightly and took a breath to keep herself steady. "How does this effect me?"
"It don't."
"Then why are you telling me this?"
Hank gave her a look as if she was purposely being obtuse. "So you can tell that boy, why do you think?" Maria merely stared at him, a little of her shock showing through that façade that she had attempt to maintain. "I can't no tattler," he inform her with a look that wasn't quite so nice, "I may not be a good father, maybe no even a good man, but I've got my own kind of code. Don't sit well with me what I told that man… don't sit well at all."
"So you want Michael to know, that yet again, you've betrayed him," Maria concluded in her no nonsense way.
"I don't owe that boy anything," Hank spat out angrily. "I ain't doing this for him."
"Oh course," Maria crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a look that conveyed her thoughts of the man. "Are we done?"
Nodding his head, Hank Guerin headed out. "Tell him, I'm done with him."
"Too bad he's not done with you," Maria replied softly, though not softly enough for Hank Guerin not to hear.
"What does that mean?"
Maria's brows rose in reaction. "He's going to put you away, you know. He's going to do it so that Tess isn't going to have to. And you and I both know how much he loves Tess."
Hank thought of the way the Michael had protected the little blond; the way the boy had lost control when there was so much as a disparagement toward the girl. Yeah, it was obvious the boy's has fallen hard for the girl. Michael didn't turn on him until Tess Harding came along. "Guess I do."
"Good," Maria replied, not sure what to make of the strangely understanding look on Hank Guerin's face.
"Tell him that we're even," Hank replied, his head nodding as if coming to a conclusion. "I don't owe him anything and he don't owe me nothing. We're squared."
"You'll never be squared with Michael," Maria informed him with a hard look, "Not after what you did."
Hank gave her an impatient look. "Just tell the boy and don't keep putting your two cents in here, kid." Then he walked away.
Maria stood on the steps, watching him go until he disappeared around the block. Letting out the breath she hadn't realize she had been holding, she hurried picked up the bags on the ground and rushed into the house. Dropping the groceries on the coffee table, she hurried back to the front door and threw the deadbolt. Running to the kitchen, she picked up the phone and dialed the first number that came to mind. "Hello, Alex?"
To be continued….
