Title: The Pass Beyond Nothing
Author: Giselle
Rating: PG-13
Category: M&M
Summary: After leaving Roswell, the six humans and podsters stumble across something that will change all of their lives forever.
Spoilers: None, the show is over. Unless someone's been hiding something from me...
Disclaimer: If I owned it would I have to include this? I don't think so.
Distribution: You know you can have it if you want to have it, when I want you to have it and I know you can handle it. Get it? Yeah, me neither.
Feedback: Sure, why not? yacrusader@yahoo.com
Author's Note: This fic bounces back and forth, so I've put part of it in italics to hopefully help keep things straight. Oh, and I never claim to be a nice person when writing fics, so be forewarned. (i.e. angst is a likelihood, and though I promise that I have no intentions of killing off Michael or Maria, I make no promises about any of the others…) BTW, this is coming along slowly, so an update every couple of weeks is probably how it's going to go…
~Part One~
Just one more door...
The hurried clicking of black stiletto heels on the polished hardwood floor echoed off of the walls of the large conference hall, drawing the eyes of everyone in attendance. It took only a few seconds before an attractive woman with deep auburn hair and full ruby lips, hiding behind a pair of reflective sunglasses, appeared on stage in front of the multitude. Her dress suit was black pin-stripped with a short skirt that rode up slightly with every step she took, and her lengthy hair was pulled up in a loose bun with small tendrils floating down to gently shape her face. Her mere presence demanded attention, and at just under 5'5" she seemed to fill the entire room.
Stepping up quickly to the podium, the briefcase that had been in her hand was set down in front of her, underneath the microphone. She slowly pulled off her sunglasses, allowing her rich chocolate-brown eyes to scan the silent crowd with an intensity that seemed to trickle through to her very core.
So, this was her class.
"My name is Special Agent Emma Gueritt. Over the next sixteen weeks I will be your instructor here at the FBI Training Academy. You may call me Special Agent Gueritt, or Instructor Gueritt. The choice is up to you."
Taking a small packet from her briefcase, Special Agent Guerrit walked over to a desk that had been situated on the right side of the stage and leaned back against it, opening the booklet. "On your chairs when you sat down you should have found a white envelope with instructions on the front not to open it until you were prompted by your instructor to do so." Smiling at her new students, she continued, "I am now prompting you to do so." A few of the new trainees allowed themselves a smile before tearing at the white paper and dumping the contents into their lap.
While they were all busying themselves with the simple task, Emma allowed herself a moment to study them, as she did with every new class that she taught. Most looked as though they were fresh out of college, anxious and ready to learn. Naive. Nearly a forth appeared as though they were around her own age, and a small handful looked to be approximately five years her senior. Typical.
"On top, you will find a small gray pamphlet detailing your schedule throughout your entire training period," she informed them, taking the short steps down to the ground floor. "Every activity of every hour of every day is written down for you in there. However," she cautioned, strolling absently down the aisle between the two sections of seats, "should I see fit to add in an extra training session, or perhaps decide on rescheduling an activity, even if it is the result of a bad hair day, I suggest you make yourself available to me twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week." She could make out a few sniggers coming from the bunch in regards to her hair comment, but everyone else seemed to take her deadly serious.
Well, at least she knew a few of them were alive.
Beginning a brisk walk back to the stage, Special Agent Gueritt lifted the booklet in her hand high into the air so that they could all see it. "If you would all kindly turn to page one of your packets, you'll find following along with me will be very helpful over the next hour. If you have any questions I prefer you ask during the discussion, instead of waiting for me to finish with everything before asking them." Taking the steps quickly and turning back to them, a mischievous smile lit up her face. "I like knowing when I'm finished with a lecture, and I hate being forced to stay because students decided they were too polite to interrupt me." It seemed as though a few more smiles lit up the faces in the crowd. Just a handful more of heartbeats from the zombies and she might be able to get through the next four months.
Tossing the booklet in her hand onto the small desk, she propped herself up on top of it, crossing her legs in front of her and gripping the front edges for support as she leaned forward. "You will, however, be forced to raise your hand if you would like to speak, and I urge you to pay attention. I hate repeating myself and I will only say things once."
"While you are here there will be three and only three parts to your curriculum; investigative/tactical, non-investigative, and administrative. If you have none of these skills, and refuse to develop them," she told them with a piercing stare, "the door is twenty feet away. Feel free to use it." It was typical that she was never taken seriously when she gave the option to each class that came through the facility for training. Even more typical was the look on the faces of those students who found themselves failing her course when they refused to listen to her counseling.
"Along with those components, you will be required to complete a total of 643.5 hours of instruction. The four major concentrations for this will be academics, firearms, operational skills, and the Integrated Casio Scenario."
"You will also be required to pass eleven academic examinations, with a score of eighty-five percent or better. The following disciplines for these exams are as follows; two legal exams, one behavior science exam, one interviewing exam, one ethics exam, one white collar crime exam, an organized crime/drugs/violent crime exam, an informants/cooperating witnesses exam, one interrogation exam, one forensic science exam, and one national foreign intelligence program exam."
"You must pass a physical training test, and a defensive tactics test. You must qualify twice with a Bureau issued handgun and once with a shotgun, as well as showing familiarity with the sub-machine gun. So, if you don't like guns and you're not big on exercise, you might want to pack up and go home." That would be better than having to spend the entire class hour convincing a recruit that they couldn't just skip this part and work in a desk job for the rest of their lives. She truly wished they would get more creative than that. At least when she was younger, she could come up with better excuses as to why she didn't have her homework done.
"These will be your main focuses over the next four months, people. You don't pass these, and you've just wasted sixteen weeks of my precious time." It was bad enough she was forced back into doing this because of the raid that occurred just two days ago, getting her replacement for this position shot in the process. She certainly didn't want to see her time here being all for nothing if this class couldn't pull themselves together.
Picking up the packet lying next to her, Instructor Gueritt turned to the next page, watching as the students followed suit. This was going to be a long day.
~~~~~
"...Sixty-nine..."
Michael turned to stare at the quirky blonde sitting next to him, who was currently lounging back with her feet propped up on the seat in front of them. For the last hour and a half she had been counting, letting the numbers fall from her full, moist lips every few minutes as though she were relaying utterly vital information to the rest of the group. It was the most mesmerizing thing Michael had ever watched, and he had no intention whatsoever of stopping her any time soon. He thought she looked beyond sexy when she was upset, with her little...
"Seventy miles since the last time you told me we'd pull over for a bathroom break, Max!" Maria informed the driver of the van they were all currently traveling in.
Two months. They had been driving together, cramped in this poor excuse of a getaway vehicle for the last two months. The three podsters, the two would-be (or should that be will-be?) metamorphosising humans, and her - the last surviving normal one of the bunch. Heaven help her, if she ended up getting shot during this entire ordeal, she'd rather die than follow in the footsteps of Mr. Visionary Non-Supreme or Ms. Snap-Crackle-and-Pop! The fact that Liz was finally starting to be able to control her powers instead of simply masking them, and Kyle was just now experiencing his didn't help any in the 'we have to remain invisible and anonymous' part of their whole escape plan.
"We're almost there Maria, I swear. Just a few more miles, okay?"
Max was taking a huge risk by ignoring her. Not only was she highly informed in 37 ways to bring a man to his knees, she was also pretty sure she could pull off that whole Vulcan Death Grip thing if the need presented itself. If he didn't pull over soon, he was going to be one very sorry...
Maria's thoughts were forced to an abrupt end as the van came screeching to a halt at the side of the road, throwing everyone forward, out of their seats. Small mounds of dust were rising up around the outside of the vehicle and seeping in through the opened windows, sending her into an angry coughing fit.
"Max! What are you trying to do, prep my bladder or something?!" she snapped at him, grabbing hold of her seat and pulling herself up from the floor. "Because believe me, it's all ready to go!" She really needed a week's worth of vacation away from all of this voodoo alien stuff. Well...she'd be willing to suffer with the Michael-filled part of it, but the rest had to go!
Max turned to look out of the passenger side window, absently unbuckling his seat belt and pushing on the driver's side door to let himself out. "Sorry Maria...We're here...You can use the bathroom now." Letting his feet thud lightly on the ground as he hopped out into the fresh morning air, Max looked around him trying to pinpoint exactly where the signal that had been leading him to this area was coming from.
Pulling open the side door of the van and looking around, Maria pinched her eyes shut, telling herself this wasn't true. "How do you expect me to use the bathroom in the middle of nowhere, Max?" The desert? He expected her to drop her pants in the middle of the desert? What was she suppose to use for cover, a cactus? Yeah, that would feel just great! "There aren't even any bushes to hide behind!"
Michael couldn't help the smirk that crept up his face as he witnessed her angry tirade. She was more entertaining to watch than ESPN!
"Maybe there's a bathroom in that building over there," Liz stated, rubbing the back of her neck as she stretched her sore muscles. Riding day in and day out with the Abominable Grump and his sidekick, The Chatter Box, was completely wearing her down. Of course, she wouldn't want to replace her best friend for anything in the world, but she was really starting to miss the peace and quiet of her single bedroom back in Alien-ville, New Mexico. This must have been what it was like to have siblings. She definitely had a new respect for Max and Isabel.
Quickly making his way over to where Liz was standing, Max scanned the area, trying eagerly to find the structure Liz had spotted. "Where?"
"Sixty degrees northwest of where you're staring," Isabel informed him as she followed Kyle somberly out of the van. She could feel one of his arms wrap around her shoulders comfortingly, and she managed a small smile, doing her best to reassure him that she was all right.
Since that awful day that they had left Roswell, running from the Special Unit of the FBI, Isabel had felt as though a part of her had been ripped away and left to die. Growing up knowing what she was, knowing one day that she might have to leave her life behind, hadn't prepared her for the pain she felt when she watched Jesse fade into the distance as they drove away from their homes and their families. She wasn't ready to let go of that part of her, the part that was still human.
"I think that's it," Max told them all, as he began to walk towards the rundown shack in the distance, shuffling his feet over the peeling dirt. They all stared at his back as he hurried away from them, heading for the oasis.
Glancing around at the confused group, Kyle finally spoke, "So...am I the only one who thinks he's totally lost it?" He couldn't help but wonder exactly what Max's motive was for being here. One week ago they had all been heading east, away from all of the 'FBI-is-going-to-take-us-prisoner' stuff, when suddenly Max was turning them around saying that he thought they needed to go west again, and he wouldn't explain why. He'd been driving them toward this area ever since.
"Nope. Maxwell's lost it," Michael answered him, folding his arms across his chest and frowning.
Sighing in frustration, Maria took off after their lone friend, hoping beyond hope that there really was some form of a bathroom waiting there for her. If not, Max had better pray that he woke up tomorrow with all of his body parts in tact. At the moment, he was dealing with one very unhappy DeLuca, and quite frankly that wasn't a very promising prospect.
After watching Maria follow their questionably sane friend and brother, the rest of the group grudgingly went after them. They would have all preferred to be strolling down one of the Atlantic beaches by now, but if Max thought this was important to them, then they probably should too.
It didn't take them long to reach it as they stumbled over tumbleweeds and strange-looking insects that Maria decided must have survived from the prehistoric era. The outside of the building appeared as though it had been built over a century ago, with cracked wood paneling and several fallen shingles that had found their way to the ground, off of the roof. The small wind-around porch creaked with the tiniest amount of pressure, and the wooden bench sitting next to the front door, with one broken leg, looked like it had been plagued with at least fifty years of dust.
Carefully making his way up the steps, Max squinted as he bent down to look through one of the front windows. He had to wipe away a few stray cobwebs from the panes in order to see inside, and was already heading for the front door when Maria reached him.
"All right girlfriend, what's the deal?"
Avoiding her eyes, he opened the screen door, stopping when he felt her light touch on his arm. Sighing quietly he asked, "What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean, Max," Maria answered, not letting up. "We all agree to finally settle someplace east for a little while, and suddenly you turn us completely around, take us west, stop the van in the middle of nowhere after a week of silence, and declare, rather off handedly if you ask me, that 'We're here'. If you plan on making us all camp out in the middle of No-Man's-Land," she told him, gesturing to the surrounding area, "I'm seriously going to have to kill you."
Fighting an inward battle with himself, Max finally relented. "I...A week ago I felt this...I don't know how to explain it," he told her, lowering his voice as he kept his eyes on the others that were approaching. "It was kind of like a signal, I guess. Drawing me. I just know that there's something important here, Maria. Something that could change all of our lives." He didn't say any more as the rest of the group approached, looking back and forth between the two on the porch.
"Nice place, Max," Kyle said, taking in the dangerous looking structure. "I know we all didn't plan on having a summer vacationing home, but with a little paint and just a tiny bit of love, I'm sure we call all enjoy being eaten by hungry termites in our beds while we sleep," he said sarcastically, making his way around the outside, refusing to touch anything.
Before anyone else could have a chance to ask questions, Max spoke up. "I looked through one of the windows. It's completely deserted inside." Grabbing hold of the door handle, he twisted it and pushed, sending up a cloud of dust that settled quickly.
Not daring to look back, Max took a step inside. "Let's go."