WHAT IS TIME?

Man, this really shouldn't have taken so long. Hope you're still here.

Unphazed, Ieesha Lenorma: Thanks for the reviews :D.

I think this is the only chapter in which Sonic is not (physically) present for a while, and there's another OC °_°;;. Fingers crossed!

Chapter 10: Gotta Go Fast

Jen watched Allan sink into the tall bench's thick padding, taking in the cafe's interior despite having been here a dozen times before. They both liked the place. The walls had a dark wooden paneling decorated with numerous small pictures, and the few well-placed separators between the tables made it feel extra-cozy. Today though, Jen kind of failed to enjoy the nice atmosphere. Her and Allan hadn't met since he'd shown up at her place, and she still felt horrible for putting Allan off whenever he called. Obviously, she'd painstakingly avoided talking about Sonic on each occasion. To say that she was somewhat on edge by now was a minor understatement.

Her fingers fumbled with the menu laying on the table.

"So, what's been going on with you lately?" Allan asked, bundling up his trenchcoat and putting it beside him on the bench.

"…Not much. I've just been really occupied," she said. He knew about the car and all.

Allan hummed, crossing his arms and digging his back into the padding again as he studied her. A strand from his persistent 90's hairstyle fell into his face and he plucked it out of the way of his pair of hopelessly outdated glasses. If it weren't for them and his apparent inability to keep a shirt stuck in his pants for a reasonable amount of time he'd almost be one of the cool guys.

He seemed to be working on a way to keep the conversation going.

"You know," he said. "I'm okay if you need time to deal with your car and your shoulder and all that. And I can live with it if it means you're going to avoid me for another two weeks, but by now you've become downright distracted and I'd feel better if I knew what's bothering you."

Jen grimaced. She knew she couldn't fool anyone close to her for long, but, ugh. "It's kinda difficult to explain…"

"Try me," he said with a shrug.

The waitress came before Jen could reply, taking their well-practiced order.

Allan ran a hand through his hair then let it drop into his lap. He seemed to reconsider. "I mean, if you have someone else around who's helping you out and you somehow don't want me involved, then just tell me. It's better than having no idea what's up." 'And getting staved off with flimsy reasons', he seemed to add mentally.

Jen shook her head. "No, no, it's not like that. I would've asked you first thing, but I—It's just—" Her hand grasped for words.

Allan frowned.

Jen fidgeted, scanning the café. They'd picked a table in one of the corners and none of the other guests seemed to pay them any attention. There were worse conditions for talking about him.

She took a deep breath. "Alright," she said.

He straightened slightly.

"—When I had the accident, there was actually someone else around who helped me. He was already in the car when I woke up, and had already tended to the cut on my forehead. When he saw my shoulder he helped me put my arm into a sling." She gestured vaguely. "But he left just before Mr. Wellis came and picked me up."

"Oh, okay," Allan said, visibly relaxing. "So you didn't get a chance to thank him properly and now you don't know how to find him?"

Jen paused, blinking. That sounded like a much better excuse than the ones she'd come up with before settling on telling him the truth. But it wouldn't be fair to change plans now—especially not towards her own sanity.

"Yes and no," she said eventually. "I do want to find the one who helped me, but—" Jen broke off with a groan. "Oh god, it sounds so stupid. You did notice I keep glancing around the café since we got here, right? I seriously have no idea how anyone is supposed to explain something like this." She threw her good arm into the air, then abruptly stilled when the waitress came with two large lattes. Jen kept her eyes on her as she left.

Allan knitted his brows, studying Jen as he reached for his spoon and began to stir. His face couldn't seem to decide between concern and puzzlement.

She played the words back and forth in her head, each time coming to the conclusion that, apparently, there was no subtle way to put the fact that she'd been helped by an actual extraterrestrial. Also, apparently, a good portion of, 'oh, whatever', had to be involved in each version.

Jen looked up, gauging Allan's reaction.

"He's not human," she said finally.

Allan took a sip of his coffee, unnervingly unfazed. He shrugged. "What then? A dog?"

Jen gave him a flat look. "A dog. How exactly is a dog supposed to tend to a cut and knot a sling?"

"Uhh, lick it, maybe?" He scratched his head. "And by being Lassie in general." He shrugged again, sharing the first genuine smile since they'd entered the café. "No, seriously. What do you mean?"

Jen took another deep breath, bracing herself. Then she looked Allan in the eyes. "He's an alien," she said.

Allan breathed sharply into his cup, glasses clouding with hot mist. "What?"

She conjured up her most serious face. "I let him stay at my place for the past two weeks, but now he's been gone for three days straight and I can't help but worry. That's why I've been so pre-occupied."

"You… you what?" He somehow managed to look exasperated and on the verge of laughing at the same time. "I'm not sure what's worse right now: That you let a random stranger stay at your place or that you're telling me he's—"

"Shh," Jen interrupted, glancing at the nearby tables.

Allan blinked, setting down his cup. "You're serious."

"What do you think?"

A pause.

"From another planet."

"Last time I checked that's how it works."

He blinked again, apparently processing. "…Okay. …What does he look like?"

Allan looked as if he had some difficulty settling on a single question, and Jen couldn't blame him. Part of her was sure he was just trying to be a good friend at this point, but the other part hoped that he would do his best to take this situation as seriously as he took everything else he set his mind to. He was, by far, the most reliable friend she'd made in almost five years of studying, and if there was anyone she'd trust with something like this, it was him.

Jen released a breath, trying to come up with an appropriate description of the alien in question. "Hmm, he's short—about like this." She straightened, holding her hand roughly above nose-height. "A bit scrawny. And his head seems a bit too big for the rest… His eyes are pretty large, too." Jen contemplated her words for a moment then concluded with a nod. "Yeah."

"Eh?" Allan knitted his brows. "So, like one of those Roswell aliens?"

It took her a moment to form the picture in her mind.

"What? No!" She shuddered. "That would be creepy. He's more like—" She paused. "…I feel like I shouldn't be saying this, but: He looks more like an animal. You know, with fur, and pointy ears, and quills all over his back—"

"That sounds creepy."

"It's kind of adorable, actually."

They sat in silence for a bit, drinking coffee and absently watching people come and go. Allan had reacted far more relaxed than Jen had expected and the café began feeling cozy again. But that didn't change the fact that she still had no idea where Sonic could've disappeared to. She'd gotten somewhat used to him randomly leaving her place and returning some hours later, but it had never been this long. He'd even taken his pants with him this time (although she still wasn't sure whether he usually simply chose not to wear those or whether he'd just taken them because she'd decided to wash them a second time…).

"So." Allan interrupted her thoughts. "Any details? Where's he from? Are we in for an invasion? Did he crash land somewhere? Does he have a mission? Where are the crazy news reports?"

Jen shook her head, stifling a smile. "There's… none of that. He's alone—at least I'm pretty sure. From what I gathered he came here through some kind of portal and now somehow can't go back the same way. I think he never even intended to be here in the first place. So, it's kind of exciting and not very exciting at the same time."

"Hmm, but— that sounds pretty vague. From someone you allow to stay at your place I'd expect straighter answers."

"Trust me, I'd love to know more, but it appears English isn't the universe's first language." She shrugged.

He snorted. "That'd be the first thing I'd try to learn before going off on another planet."

"And then you'd dig yourself into books for three years straight and never actually get off." She stifled a smile.

"Probably," he admitted with a grin. "But still."

"Actually," Jen said. "I don't think they even know that much about us. Or what do you know about Clarion?"

"Wait. He's from there?"

"Yeah. So?"

"Nothing. I just—I mean, it is the most likely place, but for some reason I expected something different," he said. "You sure?"

Jen nodded. "It's one of the things he was pretty clear about."

"Huh." Allan scratched his chin in thought. "Man, do you remember that Voyager photo? I was all over it when I was a kid. Couldn't believe they really needed scientists to figure out that those were city lights."

"—Says the scientist," Jen chuckled.

Allan gave her a mock-peeved look.

"Shame that the other probe broke down after getting into Clarion's orbit," he added. "Apparently they put all further planned attempts on hold, because they couldn't determine whether it was a bug or an 'act of aggression'."

"…How do you know all that stuff by heart?"

"Don't you?"

"No? Normal people have to look these things up." Jen laughed.

He gave her a smug look that got halfway lost behind his glasses. "Well. Then: Did you know SETI caught a message a few years ago? The wavelengths could be reduced to some kind of mathematical pattern (so, nothing that the general public would find exciting). I heard they tried to transmit something back, but I guess I kinda grew out of it and never checked whether there was a follow-up…" He seemed to dig his brain for more things on the matter.

"Well," Jen said. "Whatever they did, it's not that important anymore, now that he's left."

"Any ideas where he could've gone?"

"If I had I wouldn't have spent the past three days worrying," she said.

Allan hummed. "It's probably better that way. I mean, as long as you can't be sure what he really is doing here—it might just as well be something you don't actually want to be involved in."

She sighed. "Maybe. I don't know. I guess there really isn't much I can do now." Jen let her shoulder droop. "Wanna come over in the meantime? For, uh, another cup of coffee or something?" she asked, feeling sheepish.

#

Jen paused in the open doorway to her apartment, a frown forming on her face.

"What's up?" Allan asked, peering in beside her. Her place looked pretty much the same as usual. A bit dim, maybe, and with a faint glow reflecting off the walls. It looked as if she'd accidentally left the TV on, but there was no sound coming from inside.

He turned to study her expression, raising an eyebrow. Somehow, that faint twitch at the corners of her mouth didn't bode well.

Jen bit her lip and set foot into her apartment. She motioned for Allan to be silent then distractedly slipped out of her shoes and hung up her jacket. She tiptoed almost comically towards the general direction of the couch.

Allan slipped inside after her, somehow infected by her stealth, and carefully closed the door. He craned his neck while getting rid of his shoes and coat, but could only see her head poking out from where she crouched in front of the couch that stood roughly with its back towards him. She began fumbling with something, looking focused. Allan had a sinking feeling.

On the way to her place (they'd taken the bus for a lack of car), Jen had mostly avoided talking about her alien encounter, but that hadn't stopped Allan's mind playing through the ramifications of it all.

Generally, the nature of Clarion was common knowledge. Most people seemed to accept that the planet had to be inhabited by a reasonably advanced species, and that, even if they turned out to be hostile at some point, they would have to abide by the same rules of physics as everyone else and could therefore never 'catch Earth by surprise', so to speak. He didn't have to be a physicist to see reason behind that statement.

Now though, apparently one of them was here on Earth, and on top of it by a means Allan would've put into the realm of science fiction.

Back at the café, his inner eight-year-old had been excited by the thought of an actual alien on Earth, and he'd been disappointed that he wouldn't get to see the real thing for himself. During the ride, though, apparently his adult mind had taken over again and all he could feel was relieved that Jen wouldn't have to deal with a situation as complicated as this.

Now that he was apparently on the verge of meeting the thing, all he could think of, though, was: 'oh crap'. Couldn't he feel curious instead of anxious right now?

Allan finally approached the couch and hesitantly peered across the its backrest. He felt his mouth drop open.

"Holy shit," he mouthed, staring. Jen's description had been bizarrely accurate and inaccurate at the same time: The thing sleeping on the couch was a short, furry creature with fundamentally human physique and apparently nothing to wear aside from a pair of socks.

It also smelled faintly of Jen's shampoo.

She pried a TV remote from its fingers, making it stir, and Allan flinched when a pack of chips in its other hand crackled about as loud as a thunderstorm in the middle of the night. Gladly, the noise wasn't enough to wake it up.

"Holy shit," he whispered again.

Jen switched off the TV, got up, and ushered Allan into the kitchen. He dumbfoundedly stepped inside and she slid the door closed behind them, exhaling deeply.

"Guess I've been worried for nothing," she said, apparently losing all tension. Allan felt pretty much the opposite.

"Jen. Jen, this is crazy," he hissed, barely keeping himself from grabbing her by the shoulders. "You can't have that thing living in your apartment."

"W—What?" She blinked, frowned, then rolled her eyes. "Oh, jeez, I knew it had gone too well at the café. He's a 'he' by the way. Not a thing."

"It was all hypothetical back there!" He tried hard not to raise his voice.

Jen groaned.

"I just—I," Allan grasped for words. "It's dangerous." He deflated.

"Right." Jen shook her head, pushing past him towards the kitchen counter. "Want some tea while you decide just how 'dangerous' it is?"

"No… I think I need a beer after that."

"Help yourself," she said without turning from the sink.

Allan eyed her carefully as he reached for the fridge. He picked a bottle, opened it, then sat down sideways on one of the chairs by the tiny kitchen table she had her back to. He quietly took a sip.

"Someone has to be looking for him," he said after a while.

"Don't think so." She began heating up some water.

"Okay. Perhaps not at the moment. But if someone does find him here— If —then you're the one who's going to be directly involved. You can't want that. This doesn't look like a situation that's going to be handled under some kind of… 'illegal immigration' law." Man, he wasn't even sure whether he could convince himself with that. But this was one of those things that just had to go wrong, wasn't it? Especially if Jen didn't even try to hide the guy here. Apparently 'he' could come and go as he pleased.

"How did he even get back into the apartment?" Allan asked.

"I left the roof window open," Jen said, apparently unconcerned. She watched as the water began to boil, then poured it into a tea pot she'd prepared.

"...I'm not sure that was the answer I wanted to hear."

Jen finally turned to look at him and sighed. "Can you just be glad with me that nothing's happened to him?"

"I can. I just don't want you to be in this sort of trouble."

"What 'trouble', exactly?"

"…I don't know yet. I just get the feeling we're missing the bigger picture."

Jen's features softened. "Look, I… I've been through the exact same thoughts, and I just don't think there is a 'bigger picture'."

"Noted. But you also said that you have no means to talk to him, so how can you know for sure?"

"I've been trying to teach him English."

Allan blinked. "I… see," he said hesitantly. "Elaborate."

On second thought, it wasn't much of a surprise. One of her subjects was English, after all.

"…Well, it's not exactly organized," she said. "But I think it could go somewhere. Wanna see the notes we made?"

"I guess?"

Jen seemed to relax again, sounding surprised. "Oh," she said. "Cool."

Allan cringed inwardly. This apparent alien situation seemed to have gotten to her in a way that made her a lot more enthusiastic than it made her careful. Somewhere in the back of his head he knew that this was the perfect moment to be supportive (never mind the fact that he also couldn't quite ignore his curiosity), but he couldn't help but feel that it was a horribly bad idea to get oneself involved in something as potentially life-changing as this. Some things could just get really complicated really fast—and this was one of those.

Jen walked past him to the kitchen door and slid it open. Instead of stepping through she paused in the open doorway, tilting her head. "You're up?" she asked into the darkened living room. "Why didn't you say something?"

From inside came a slightly unsure, "Uh."

Allan's neck prickled. It hadn't really been a word, but it had still sounded a lot more human than he'd anticipated.

"Want some tea?" Jen asked into the room much like she'd asked Allan before.

"Yeah, thanks," the voice said, unnervingly sounding even more natural this time. There was the sound of socked feet on wooden floor and Allan braced himself, tearing his hand away from the beer bottle's label that he'd unconsciously been scraping at. He straightened in his seat.

Jen returned to the counter, making room for her alien to come in. He stepped into the kitchen, idly running a hand through a patch of tan fur on his chest and swishing a couple of chips crumbs to the floor. He eyed them briefly, apparently having little remorse, then straightened to face Allan with a look between surprise and curiosity.

…How on Earth had Jen managed not to liken the thing to a cartoon character? To call his eyes 'large' had been a massive understatement. Also, he was blue of all colors.

Then again he also looked unsettlingly alive and solid, which managed to wipe the thought from Allan's mind almost as quickly as it had come.

They both simultaneously glanced at Jen for support. She'd meanwhile begun pouring two steaming cups of tea and was essentially leaving Allan and the alien alone in the room. It was kind of disconcerting.

The other seemed to gather his wits first. He extended a hand.

"Hey. I'm Sonic. Nice to meet you," he said.

Allan faltered. "Wh—What?" Aside from a bit of a sing-song accent, that introduction had been absolutely flawless. …'Trying to teach him English'. My ass.

'Sonic' cocked his head, then let his hand drop, glancing at Jen again. »I totally screwed that up, didn't I?« he said in a language Allan didn't recognize.

Jen turned, shaking her head. "Nah, you were perfect. It's this dork here who doesn't know how to deal with a proper introduction."

"Hey," Allan protested. "You didn't have to leave me on my own here in the first place."

Jen gave him a flat look.

"Alright, whatever." Allan ran a hand through his hair, then rubbed it against his thigh before holding it out to Sonic who'd been looking back and forth between the two. "Sorry," Allan said, clearing his voice. Sonic faced him again. "I'm Allan. It's… nice to meet you, too, I guess."

Sonic hesitated for a moment, then took Allan's hand with a curt nod. The handshake felt disappointingly ordinary.

Allan hummed as they both let go again. "I thought you two couldn't talk?"

"Yeah, well. This is about as far as it goes. We just shot our bolt."

"Wasn't half bad though. Can he say anything else?" he asked, briefly facing Sonic again.

Jen gasped with mock exasperation. "Don't tell me you've gotten curious now!"

Allan chuckled. "Nope, this is still perfectly unreasonable."

She rolled her eyes and turned to reach for something between outer wall and counter. It was a foldable bar stool she'd gotten as a particularly random birthday present, and Allan reached over to help her unfold the thing. Apparently it had the perfect height for someone like Sonic to sit by the table. Sonic scaled the stool with unexpected agility.

Jen handed him a steaming cup and sat down across from Allan. Sonic held the cup close for a moment, then apparently decided it was still too hot and set it back down.

"I'm serious, though," Allan said. "How long do you plan on keeping this up?"

Jen took a breath. "As long as it takes?"

"As long as what takes?" Allan asked, shooting Sonic a glance. Was that introduction really all he understood? It seemed as if he tried to follow the conversation, but he either didn't show any emotion, or simply genuinely didn't understand anything.

"I don't know," Jen said. "Until he's found a way back? Until his English is good enough so he can get out of trouble on his own? I can't just kick him out now."

"Why not? You have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

"Neither do you."

Allan felt his face crumple into a frown, and he had to avert his eyes from the severe look she was giving him. She had a point, of course, but—

"Would you seriously want to hand him over to… whoever is even in charge of something like this?" she added. "What do you think they'd do? Give him a ride home?"

Her expression softened the moment he looked up at her again. Sonic frowned in concentration, apparently trying to read the two.

Allan shook his head. "No." Of course he wouldn't. But she couldn't just start dealing in extremes. There had to be middle ground somewhere.

Jen stopped halfway leaning back into her seat again when he continued: "But that doesn't mean you have to insist on keeping him here either. He already seems to take some liberties regarding your hospitality, anyway, apparently." Allan thumbed at Sonic.

Her gaze followed his gesture and she arched both eyebrows. "Oh, right. About that—"

Sonic had picked up his cup and took a sip with the grace of a Chinese noodle connoisseur. He blinked, slightly surprised, when he noticed Jen's expression.

"Care telling me where you've been?" she asked. "Three days and I'm worried sick. I thought you'd gotten caught or something."

Sonic opened his mouth as if to answer, then closed it again, lips forming a line.

Jen let out a quiet groan then tried again: "Where did you go?" she asked, a bit more slowly and emphasizing her words with a few gestures.

Recognition lit in his eyes and he set down his cup, leaping off the chair in one fluid motion. Allan looked after him as he disappeared into the living room.

"You don't happen to understand his language?" Jen asked.

"That bit from before?" Allan said, turning to face her again. "No. Sounded like someone tried to blend Japanese with Russian."

Jen looked skeptical. "If you say so…"

Allan twisted in his seat again, peering through the open doorway. Sonic had switched on the bathroom lights and picked through the pockets of an apparently discarded pair of pants that clearly looked his size.

"…Why isn't he wearing those pants?" Allan asked carefully.

"Don't ask me." Jen shrugged. "He only seems to care about his shoes."

"And it doesn't bother you that he sits on your stuff with his naked butt…?"

Jen cringed slightly. "I—Well, he also cares a lot about my shower, so I kinda stopped thinking about it?" She shrugged, a slightly desperate smile on her lips.

Allan sat up straight again. "You let him use your bathroom?"

"What do you think is the alternative?"

"Point," he said.

Sonic returned with a folded and slightly rumpled piece of paper and dropped it on the table. He scaled the bar stool without even tipping it and picked up his cup again.

The paper looked like a brochure of some sort and Jen unfolded the creaking thing carefully. It revealed to be a map and tourist guide of Yellowstone National Park. A location apart from the usual travel paths was marked with a circle and a short note in foreign letters. She flipped the map over a couple of times with growing confusion.

"Wait a minute—" She looked at Sonic who calmly drank his tea (slightly less audibly this time). "Are you trying to tell me that you went from here to Yellowstone and back in three days? Dude, that's, like, 2000 miles!" Jen emphasized her words with appropriate gestures again, talking a bit slower than usual. It seemed to work. Sonic shrugged, flashing a fanged (and somewhat smug looking) grin.

"I go fast," he said.

Jen blurted out a disbelieving laugh. "Damn right you gotta 'go fast'. Did you hitch a ride or what?"

Sonic shrugged again, slurping tea. Some questions were apparently too complicated.

"Maybe he wasn't actually there and just found the map lying around somewhere?" Allan suggested.

"Nah. He wouldn't mark something on a map without— Ohh, I'm an idiot." Jen said, halfway burying her head in her arm. "We've been trying to locate more of those teleport poles he supposedly came here with, and this was the first one that came up that he hadn't already been to. I just never thought he'd actually go there. Look!"

Jen showed the map to Allan who'd meanwhile begun to worry about forever living with a grimace from raising and knitting his eyebrows so much.

"…Teleport poles." He repeated slowly.

"Yeah. The thing I told you about," Jen said, then faced Sonic again, pointing at the map. "There's a… Star Post there, right?"

He nodded.

"Did it work?" She gestured.

"No," he said, not sounding particularly concerned.

Allan leaned his back against the wall, eying Sonic suspiciously. "Is he taking this seriously?" He asked.

Jen rubbed her face before watching Sonic herself. "Well, he came back. So I think he's at least taking me seriously."

"Whatever you say…" Allan said.

Sonic had finished his tea and was now glancing out of the narrow kitchen window, apparently done with the conversation. It was already dark out, though, and Allan couldn't imagine there was much for him to see. Unfortunately, it reminded him of the time, and now he was stuck between feeling relieved about having to leave early, and feeling bad about both at the same time. At least he'd already told Jen about his schedule earlier.

She seemed to read his mind. "So, how seriously are you gonna take your Ph.D. today?" she asked.

Allan chuckled. "I actually have to hand in an abstract until tomorrow."

She raised an eyebrow, looking mock-serious. "And you're still here? Since when are you waiting til the last minute?"

"Since I thought it was more important meeting up with a friend."

Jen gave him an odd look, then smiled, entirely infectious.

"Gotcha," she said. "See you in a few then?"

He nodded, getting up and quietly setting the chair back underneath the table. "Don't forget your own schedule until then," he said, nodding his head at Sonic who'd briefly acknowledged that Allan had gotten up, then apparently returned to being lost in thought.

"Don't worry," she laughed. "I get plenty enough time in between our English-sessions. He has the attention span of a goldfish with everything that's not food…"

Allan tried not to frown. "Don't keep him around for too long, okay?"

"We'll see how long he keeps being interested," Jen mused.

Allan sighed. "Alright. But just—Be careful until then."