--Hey! I just wanted to stop by and give thanks to Miss Kitten for her awesome reviews! Yes, I am the kind of crack head person who loves creative criticism… maybe more then good reviews raises eye brows? lol! But no, really… it helps to better you as an author, so it's truly wicked. So, I'm thanking Miss Kitten… she has some really good points… and some things I could argue with… but nonetheless; it was greatly appreciated!--

I am more then you will see
And I am more then you will need
And I am more then you will see
More then wanted…
– from More Then Wanted by Vanessa Carlton

Sam felt the car stop. She opened her eyes and looked up and to her side. Her head was resting against Casey's shoulder. "We're here," he whispered.

It wasn't a very long drive from the school to Zeke's house, but it was already approaching twilight outside. Sam sat up straight and Casey slipped out quickly so that she, too, could mosey to her right towards the open door. She stepped out where Casey was already waiting for her. They followed the group into Zeke's garage.

Everyone looked around upon entering. There was a couch, a stool, a bunch of other random objects, but the main thing was the table… on the table were test tubes filled with all different colored liquids, a white experiment rat in it's cage, a few dozen capsules and bottles of pills and things like that, and a gun.

"Where's your mom and dad?" Casey asked, softly, his big blue eyes looking over the table.

"Europe…" Zeke paused. "I think."

"This is some serious shit," observed Stan; as Sam pulled off her coat and threw it over the arm of the couch closest to the door.

"Is this your big secret?" Marybeth asked, unimpressed, and she held them up like she was Vanna White. "Caffeine pills?"

Zeke covered the front of the packet with his hand and took it from her. "You didn't see that," he said coolly, dropping a rag on the rest of them.

"What are we going to do?" Delilah gruffed. "With the police not being an option?"

"I–uh–I can call me dad," Stan came up with, on such a short notice. "He'd know what to do."

"Yeah, if he's even your dad anymore," Casey said. Stan nodded solemnly and looked down. Casey diverted his eyes away… they'd laid to rest on the gun and he store at it for quite the moment because looking up at Zeke with a look of innocent confusion.

"It's called a gun, man," Zeke said, as he took the jar with the creature in it – which had now changed back from it's form of a fingers – and moved it over to a little place on the table where there was a metal tray, scalpels and things like that, and a microscope. He set it down on the tray and cut off a little piece.

"What is it?" Casey whispered.

"We're going to find out," said Zeke, setting the chunk of creature in the rat's cage. Then he turned back, filled an eye dropped with water, and turned back to the cage. "Hey, c'mere, Oscar…" he said as he carefully dripped a very little bit of water on the alien chunk.

The little white rat approached it, smelling carefully, but reared back as red feelers sprang out of it and it grabbed around the rats head.

"Ew, yuck!" Delilah squealed (if you weren't right next to her, you wouldn't have heard it) and the thing crawled over to the rat, and then into his ear.

The rat squealed just barely, and then stood very still for a long moment, before it raised its little hands up, licked them, began cleaning the top of its head, and then scurried over to its water bottle.

"Geeze," Casey breathed.

"Now what?" Stan griped.

Zeke put his hand inside the cage and grasped the rats, gently at first. "I'm sorry buddy," he said before he twisted the rat's neck in his two fingers, killing it instantly. A few of the watchers moaned in disgust or something like it. Sam merely looked away out of respect for Oscar.

A short time later the rat lay on its back in the metal tray, cut and pinned open. Carefully, Zeke pulled the thing out of the rat's chest and cut its feelers loose. He set it under the microscope and looked through it. The other teenagers huddled around him, watching.

"See, it's a parasite," he was saying. "It attaches itself to a host and then it controls it." He looked at his instruments, grasped a scalpel, and then cut it open. "… It's incomplete," he said after a moment.

"What do you mean?" asked Stokely.

"It can survive on its own, but it's really part of a greater organism. It has the ability to replicate but it needs a host… something moist." He then gestured to the dead rat. "See what it did to Oscar's insides? It dried them out."

"Isn't a human's body composed mainly of water?" Stan spoke now.

"They're using us," Stokely stated. "Drying us out."

"Like Mrs. Brummel," said Stan.

"I heard coach say her body was too old," Casey said, looking up from the dead rodent. "That she couldn't take the heat."

"See, that partially explains what happened to Furlong," said Zeke, as he opened up a drug pen, pouring scat all over the creature. It bubbled and shriveled up until it was a disgusting mass of white fuzz covering the very little of the actual creature that had survived it. "The drug's a diuretic," Zeke shot a glance behind him at the teenagers. "It dries it out… kills it."

"They're using us as hosts," Stokely thought out loud. "They're just turning us into mindless slaves they can control."

"How do you know that?" Zeke asked, turning to her.

"She doesn't," Delilah snubbed. "She's a trekky sci-fi freak!"

"Who's been right so far!" Stan defended.

"How can we stop it?" Marybeth asked, looking over at Stokely who was sitting right beside her on a stool.

"Yeah, Stokely," said Casey. "This is your area."

"In theory; they're all connected," Stokely began. Everyone was looking at her. "If we kill the master we get them all."

"In theory," Delilah stressed.

"What happens to everybody else?" asked Stan. "The ones that have been taken over?"

"They'd all become human again," Stokely said, then looked to Delilah and smiled curtly. "But that is in theory so…"

"So if we found the leader–" said Casey.

"–And killed it–" said Sam.

"We'd beat it?"

"What are we even talking about?" Delilah said, crossing her arms over her chest. "I say we get the fuck out of town."

"And go where?" Sam shot at her.

"We gotta stop it or it'll spread," Casey said quietly. "It took over the high school in a day and a half. Give it a week and we'll never outrun it… we have to fight."

"Fight what? We don't even know whose alien and who's not!" said Stan. "What if one of us was an alien right now? How would we know?"

"He's right," said Stokely. "How do I know you're really Casey?"

"How do I know you're really you?" he responded, quietly.

"Well, in The Body Snatchers humans became emotionless. They completely lost their identities."

"The coach had emotion," Stan said. "I mean he's usually real hard ass but he was different somehow. His behavior was slightly odd."

"Like a star quarterback who mysteriously quits the football team?" Delilah accused, looking sharply at Stan.

"What are you doin' Delilah?"

"I'm just pointing out your slightly odd behavior, Stan," said Delilah. "You've been acting pretty weird the past couple of days."

"I'm not alien," Stan moaned. "I'm discontent."

"There's another big word." She wrinkled her nose slightly.

"Only for you, Barbie," Sam muttered, leaning against the table.

"You wanna talk slightly odd?" Stan shot back. "What about you? You haven't been without your contacts or hairspray since… birth?"

"I'm incognito," Delilah glared.

"Look, we just have to trust each other," Stokely said.

"And I'm supposed to trust you?" Delilah turned on her now. "Tell me something, Miss Lesbian, when did you start liking boys?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Stokely asked, her class showing.

"I've seen the way you look at Stan," Delilah pressed. "So when did you stop muff diving?"

"She's not a lesbian, alright?" Marybeth said, coming to the rescue. "That was a hoax."

"Really?" Delilah hissed, turning on her. "What about you, Miss Atlanta? Because it's just really convenient you showed up the second all this started happening. What are you doing in Ohio?"

Marybeth muttered her answers and, being all the way a crossed the table from her, Sam hear it, but that didn't stop her from commenting.

"God, Delilah, you're a bad ass!" she laughed. "Beating on the sweet little blonde miss from down south… priceless!"

"Oh yeah?" Delilah asked, cruelty heavy on her voice. Sam stood and got right up in front of Delilah, in her face.

"Uhuh," said she.

"And what about you," Delilah said very slowly. "The very morning all this starts and– Oopse! You're not there to protect your pathetic little lost puppy Casey. So where were you, Samantha?"

Sam stared her down with crystalline eyes narrowed in a gesture that seemed to say You-Don't-Know-Anything with a stab of disgust behind them. "Get bent, cyber slut."

"Alright, just stop it!" Zeke ordered, standing up.

"Hey, she's got a point, Zeke!" Stan declared. "Professor. I mean, you seem to know an awful lot about this stuff. No offense but you're not exactly known for your academic achievements."

"Neither are you, man," Zeke said, waving him off.

"Casey, when did you become Sigourney Weaver?" Delilah demanding, turning on him.

"What?" Casey spoke softly.

"Alright, this is getting us nowhere," said Stan bipolarly.

"I've got a solution," said Zeke, grabbing up a tray full of pens of scat. "We know this stuff harms 'em, right?" he held it out to Stan. "Take a hit."

"No way man," said Stan. "I don't do drugs."

"Aw, come on," pressed Zeke. "If you're not an alien you got nothin' to worry about."

"Not to mention that it's free," cracked Sam.

"Zeke's right," said Casey, wisely ignoring Sam's comment. "This is the only way to know for sure."

"Come on, Stan, what are you afraid of?" Zeke persisted. Stan didn't answer. "… Look, we all do it." He swung by everyone, but stopped on Casey and held the pen out to him. "Casey…"

"Why me first?" Casey asked meekly, looking so very small.

"It's your birthright, man, just fucking take it!"

Casey stared at it for a while before taking it reluctantly. He shifted his eyes up at Zeke, then closed them and snorted it.

"Easy boy," Zeke whispered, taking the pen back from him. Everyone watched in suspense, as Casey took the closest seat to where he had been standing… and was please after a time to see that he did not die.

"Now you, Zeke," said Stan. "How do we know you're not one of those fucking things?"

"I don't get high on my own stash, man," Zeke shook his head.

"Fuck that, man, you're takin' it!" Stan shouted.

Casey giggled from where he sat on the couch. "You're takin' it!" he giggled, and everyone turned to look at him. He looked high off his rocker!

Stan took a step back. Sam sat down, quite bothered by the scene, and set one hand on Casey's shoulder and the other on his knee.

"Man, what the hell's wrong with him?" Stan freaked, grabbing the gun off the table and pointing it at Casey, who just laughed harder.

"Hey-hey-hey-hey-hey-hey!" Sam cried as if it was all one word, holding her hand up as if she believed that could stop a bullet.

"Nothing's wrong with him, you asshole! He's tweaking, let him freakin' tweak!" Zeke shouted. Stan pointed the gun on Zeke.

"Now you…"

Zeke shook his head, but snorted the stuff anyway. He opened his arms slowly to display that nothing was happening to him, and after a long moment he spoke again. "Your turn," he groaned slowly, reaching back and grabbing another pen of scat, he exchanged that for the gun.

Stan frowned, then sniffed it crossly, and then sat down on the couch on the other side of Sam. Zeke blinked his eyes several times as he turned back, grabbed another pen of scat, and then held it out to Marybeth. She pushed it away, saying: "I can't, you know I can't." He nudged it in your direction again.

"I can't," Marybeth repeated, eyes growing wide. "I'm allergic."

"Yeah, and I'm Portuguese," Delilah growled. "Who cares?"

Stan began to giggle to Sam's left. Great, now she had a trippin' guy on either side of her; this day just couldn't get any better!

Marybeth frowned deeply, but gave up and took the pen. She set it in one nostril, look around slowly, and then sniffed it, throwing her head back. When she was finished, she looked sicked out, and dropped the empty pen on the floor. It rolled under the couch. They all waited. Nothing happened.

Zeke turned to Stokely, saying her name.

"No," Stokely shook her head. "I'm not putting that… hack drug up my nose; it's so… 80's."

"Aliens are taking over the world," Zeke informed. "Weigh it."

Stokely sighed, took the drug, and studied the white powder inside with her eyes. "What's in it?" she asked, looking up at Zeke again.

"Mostly caffeine and some other household shit," Zeke replied quickly.

Stokely sighed again, but gave up and sniffed it. She handed the empty thing back to Zeke and then sat with her head in her hands, not dying.

"Now you Delilah," said Zeke turning on her with a fresh pen.

"No," Delilah groaned. She pointed at Sam. "Her first."

Zeke rubbed both of his eyes hard with the backs of his hands. "Okay, you both take it," Zeke said, turning back to both girls and holding out a pen of scat in either direction. Sam looked at it.

"… What did I tell you about the brain cells?" she said in a quiet breath of a voice.

"Sorry, Sam, but sometimes a couple just have to die," Zeke said, still holding it in her direction.

"More like a couple dozen," she muttered, snatching it out of his hand. Delilah took her pen as well, and the two glared at each other.

"Ooo, Showdown," Casey said in a deep voice, sending all the jacked up teenagers into hysterics again.

Delilah and Sam, watching each other like hawks, unscrewed the caps of their pens, set the open end in one nostril, closed the other with their fingers… and sniffed deeply.

Sam finished, threw her hands away from her face for a moment, before bringing it back – still holding the empty scat pen – and laying the finger tips of one hand on either side of her face. It only took her seconds to realize something wasn't right…

Delilah had flown back in her chair. Her glasses had fallen to the floor, and her hair and an arm were covering her face. Everyone was silent… slowly, cautiously; Stan stood up from the couch and crept over to her. He grabbed her arm and pulled it away from her head. She jerked to face him… and there were things crawling underneath her skin!

"Oh shit," Stan moaned, dropping her arm and taking a step back. Casey jumped up and grabbed the gun. When he turned around, Delilah was on her feet.

"Shoot her; shoot her in the head, Casey!" Zeke ordered.

Sam crawled off the couch and back away from Delilah, until she accidentally bumped into someone. She yelped as hands clasped onto her shoulders and looked behind her. It was Marybeth.

"I don't know what's happening…" Sam heard Delilah's shaking voice. She pulled her shoulders free of Marybeth, who looked way too calm, and watched her for a moment.

SHE IS SWIMMING Marybeth only smiled at her, but Sam jerked her eyes back as she heard shouting. "Shoot her, Casey!" Zeke was yelling. "Don't shoot her, Casey!" Stan was yelling.

"She's fucking one of them, Casey!" screamed Sam.

"Shoot her!" Zeke finished.

"There's nowhere to go," Delilah said menacingly, her eyes rolling back in her head, imprints of creatures crawling under her flesh. "Nowhere to hide; we're everywhere!"

"I'll fuckin' shoot her!" Stokely growled loudly, grabbing the gun from Casey. She fired it at Delilah, but missed. Delilah thrashed her body against Zeke's lab supplies, pulling them to the ground, smashing everything. Then she bolted for the door, with Stokely running straight after her.

Everyone ran after Stokely outside. She kept firing at Delilah, until Delilah hopped into a student driver car and they sped away. Stokely stumbled to a stop when she reached the sidewalk, watching the car drive out of sight. "I should've known that crazy bitch was one of 'em!"

Everyone was on the sidewalk now.

"We can get them back, Zeke," Casey said, looking at road the car had disappeared down. "We can get them all back."

"She destroyed most of my supply," said Zeke.

"If we can kill the queen we can get them all back!" Casey repeated, his voice hopeful rather then sure.

"Aw," Zeke turned around, and cried at the sky in frustration: "Fuck!"

Finally Marybeth slipped down the driveway. She was giggling now… guess the stuff must have finally fucked her up, too.