Homecoming, Part 3a: "A couple days' worth"
Author: Chris Kenworthy
Email: Chris_Kenworthy@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: No, I don't own any of the Roswell characters. I don't plan to steal them and lock them up in white rooms either. I just let them out to play from time to time and see what happens.
Distribution: Distribute anywhere you like, currently based at fanatics: http://www.roswellfanatics.net/
Feedback: YES PLEASE!
Category: Alternate timeline epic. Conventional couples angst leading up to UC in later parts - you have been warned!
Rating: PG-13, for now
Summary: Alien mysteries lead to an interesting year...
Spoilers: Up to 'Ask not'
Section 3: The sarabande
(October 20 2001 again.)
A hand waved at them from Michael's apartment soon after the limo pulled up on the street below. About a minute later, Michael Guerin himself apppeared at the building door, dressed up to the nines in a powder blue tuxedo, strutting down the walk for all that he was worth.
Michael opened the limo door and looked inside. "What, no girls?! Don't tell me I wasted that walk on the two of you!!"
Max laughed as Michael climbed into the car in a huff, and Alex smiled at him sypathetically. "You know how it is, man. Schedule permitting, the girls get to make the big dramatic entrance while the guys are watching, not the other way around." Michael smiled a bit at that. "We're picking Maria up next." The smile broadened.
Max gave the limo driver the address, and the three guys leaned back on the plush leather seats. "So..." Michael muttered after a few moments, when the awkward silence was getting uncomfortable.
"Alex and I were taking a trip down memory lane," Max volunteered. "The Banks party, first parlour games club, stuff like that."
Michael nodded with an interested smile. "Right. So I guess the next stop was my trial by fire, right?"
Alex cast his mind back. "Well... almost, man. Almost next."
* * * *
(October 22 2000.)
Alex fidgeted nervously with his water glass for what felt like the nine hundredth time. From the window booth he had asked for at the Olde Towne cafe, the bright Roswell sunshine was streaming in past his shoulder and onto the table, and he had a great view of the interior of the ritzy coffehouse. But he wasn't seeing the one person he wanted to see.
"Hey." As if to mock Alex for his doubt, when he turned and looked up, there was Isabel. "Where did... how did you get in without me spotting you?" he blurted out. For a second he imagined Isabel using molecular manipulation to move the wall aside and create a passageway, but the picture of Isabel using her powers so openly was hardly believable.
"Fire door," Isabel pointed out. "It's never kept locked. I didn't mean to startle you, Alex, it was just the nearest way to come in."
Alex nodded in a gesture of comprehension and felt the familiar 'Isabel grin' grow on his face. She was dressed very formally - a silk, cream-colored dress with a green holly pattern, a matching off-white sweater overtop, and her blonde hair pinned up. For a second, Alex was embarassed for having come slightly underdressed in just a casual shirt and slacks, and then realized that Isabel had probaby come from church.
"So, how are you, Isabel?" he asked conversationally.
"Do you know what we're doing here?" Is blurted out all of a sudden.
Alex blinked in surprise and stalled for time while he evaluated the question. "I thought we were having lunch here."
Isabel waved that away with an impatient gesture. "Bigger picture. What are we doing here together, in a relationship sense? Are we just friends, are we hooking back up?? Because..." she sighed, and Alex could sense a great weariness in that exhalation, "I'm getting really tired of trying to figure it out."
Alex thought hard about how to reply to this. On the surface, Isabel seemed to be leaving him a perfect opening to define their relationship - but some deep instinct told him that if he reached too far right now, he could scare her off again. "S-somewhere in between?" he blurted out. "I mean, I don't feel as if we're 'hooking up' or getting together right at this moment. But I'm sure that the way I feel about you goes deeper than 'just friends,' Isabel. And I don't think you could say it's only friendship for you either."
He looked over at Isabel, wondering how she would reply to that. The way it had all come out, if she *did* say 'No, just friends, that's all I feel,' Alex wouldn't have anywhere to go from there. But after a few long seconds of thought, Isabel nodded. "You're right, I can't say... that." She smiled. "But I'm still scared of what... the other thing might mean."
"So let's take it really slow," Alex offered, with a smile, and taking a sip of his water. "So, Isabel Evans, how has your day been so far?"
Is laughed softly. "Pretty good. I just came from church with my folks. Nice service today."
"Ah," Alex replied. "I was wondering... was worried I was underdressed here for a moment."
"Well, you are," Is told him matter-of-factly. "But I'll let it go just this once."
"Underdressed?" Alex repeated, this time with a trace of indignation. "For what? I mean, if this isn't even a date..."
"Underdressed for a Sunday lunch..." Isabel began, but right then the waitress cleared her throat and asked if she could take their orders.
* * * *
"S... so," Alex forced himself as they strolled down Rogers street through the sparse sunday afternoon crowds. "Um, how about doing something like this again soon. Only somewhat more date-ey?"
Isabel laughed her melodious laugh and smiled up at him. "Sure. When do you want it??"
"Umm..." Caught by surprise, Alex felt his mind blanking. "When, umm, when is good for you?"
"Well, looks like I won't be too available tomorrow night," Isabel decided weightly, "so how about Tuesday?" A pause. "We - we can finally go see a movie together. 'X-men' is on at the two-dollar house, I never did get to see that."
Alex smiled back. "It sounds amazing. But... well, uh, what's tomorrow night?"
Is looked at him for a second as if he was slow. "Michael's big discussion with Maria, remember? Trust me, *none* of us will be having a good evening tomorrow."
Alex shook his head. "C'mon, Iz, it won't be *that* bad."
"It's Michael," Isabel reiterated. "And Maria. Discussing the future of their relationship. It's doomed."
Alex blinked in surprise. "I never knew you felt that way."
"I'm not saying 'Michael and Maria' are doomed," Isabel quickly qualified. "I wish them all the best together, and they've got a shot. But talking - especially talking about their relationship -- that's where Michael and Maria always go wrong. They should just keep quiet and see where that gets them..."
At that point, Isabel's somewhat giddy soapbox ramble was cut short, because suddenly a short, striking figure slipped through the nearest promenaders to stand right in Alex and Isabel's path. "You've got to help me!" she announced in a voice that wasn't particularly loud but undeniably intense.
Alex was so surprised that it was actually half a second after she had finished speaking that he actually recognized the person addressing him was Liz. "Oh, no," he whispered. "Alien attack?"
"Worse," Liz confided.
"What could possibly be worse?" Isabel murmured discretely, drawing Liz beside her and leading both Liz and Alex on down the sidewalk, presumably to avoid attracking attention as a obstacle to foot traffic.
"It is precisely..." Liz checked her watch ceremonially, "thirty-three minutes before Michael is supposed to pick me up for dinner and we are freakin' out!!"
"We?" Alex repeated, looking back and forth as if expecting Michael to wave hello.
"I was on the phone with him just before I came to find you guys," Liz explained. "I mean... think about it a second. It's me and Michael. Michael and I. Having to pretend for an entire evening that we are, or at least were, girlfriend and boyfriend. For not only the benefit of Congresswoman Whittaker, but *my parents!*" Liz wilted visibly with that last.
"Okay, listen up." Isabel pulled slightly harder on Liz's arm, swinging the shorter girl about slightly, and looked straight into her eyes. "Michael should never have opened his big mouth and gotten you into this. But he did, and we can't change that now. You have to follow through, or we're going to have a very powerful and very rich lady asking even MORE questions about us, which is the one thing we don't need. Can you do it?"
"Yes," Liz mumbled softly, then smiled up at Isabel and Alex. "Yeah, of course I can, I know I have to. It's just... I know I could do with a bit of a non-pep talk. Something to keep me from getting nerves, until the moment when I'm 'on.' And I know Michael could use... something. I dunno. But anyways, that's why I came looking for you guys."
A little light bulb went on above Alex's head. "I go with you, Is heads over to Michael's?"
"Pretty much, yeah." Liz looked Isabel in the eyes. "You don't object *too* much to the fact that I brought your special afternoon together to a pretty much crashing halt, do you?"
Isabel took a sidelong glance at Alex. "No. Not *too* much." With a wink, she disengaged and quickly took her bearings for Michael's apartment. "Call me tonight?"
"Sure," Liz called back, giggling. Alex shook his head at Liz's joke and nodded agreement to Iz, who smiled brilliantly back and then took off.
"So..." Alex thought about what to say as he and Liz, by unspoken agreement, began slowly walking back in the direction of the Crashdown. "I'm 'distraction guy,' am I?"
"You know what I mean," Liz chided, swatting his side softly with tender fingers. "Being around you helps me to feel like everything is normal. I like that about you."
"That's funny," Alex said with a soft chuckle. "Because, Liz Parker, being around you helps me to feel like nothing is normal, and I like that about *you*!"
Liz laughed out loud. "So... all non-normalness aside, what's new?"
Alex stifled a sardonic laugh, but Liz caught it and glared up at him. "What was that for?"
"I was just remembering the last time you asked me 'all aside, what's new?'" Alex explained. "As I recall, the topic that came to mind was the Banks' house party, and we all know how normal *that* ended up." A slight pause. "I mean, I get the general idea at least."
Liz giggled. "Alex Charles Whitman, are you asking me what happened that night that you DIDN'T know about?"
"If, um..." Alex stammered, blushing. "If it's appropriate distraction guy material. I mean, I'm not really sure what I'm doing here, aside from getting your mind off - stuff." Had Alex covered up that gap quickly enough to keep Liz from getting her mind on what she was supposed to be getting her mind off? He couldn't be sure.
"Hmm..." Liz seemed to be thinking, and Alex couldn't tell about what. "Yeah, I'd say that would be okay. Should help me method 'happy happy girl' mode, at least." Liz plastered an impossibly wide grin across her face for a second. "Okay, well, you were there when it all started - that guy trying to manhandle me in Courtney Banks' second floor hallway, right?"
"Yeah," Alex agreed. "Just out of curiosity, how did you find yourself in that situation anyway? I mean... don't feel you have to furnish upsetting details, but..."
"Oh, don't worry, I won't," Liz assured him with a breezy smile and a wink. "Well... I got knocked in the pool, as you might remember, and Courtney took me up to her room to get changed. By the time I was done, she had left, and I bumped into that jerk on the way out. He was more than a little drunk, and feeling friendly, and I wasn't quite sure how to tell him no and make him understand. Then... well, that's about when you two guys came in."
"Interesting," Alex said, filing away the tidbit in his mind. He'd shared his suspicions with Max that the whole incident had been staged to anger Max into using his powers to attack the drunk guy in front of witnesses. But he didn't feel ready to tell that theory to Liz - not right now anyway, while she was already feeling nervous about the Whittaker thing. "So, that was when it all started?" he prompted.
Liz picked up the cue. "I was scared and there, riding up in the nick of time, (as it were,) was Max. Everything I feel for him, everything I'd been trying to deny all summer... I couldn't argue with it anymore. I felt this desperate need to talk to Max about it, to tell him I still loved him and still wanted to be with him, but it just *so* obviously wasn't the right time, with everyone staring, and Steve and Courtney arguing over how that guy got invited in the first place.
"Max led me away, we found Maria and Michael, you looked for Isabel but couldn't find her right away, and we all crowded into the Jeep and took off, and still Max and I weren't really talking. It was like each of us was waiting for the other to say something, but neither of us wanted to say what was on our mind in front of... well, you guys."
"Okay," Alex said reassuringly, as Liz led the way into the Crashdown. He knew he had asked for this story, but somehow the 'max and I' this and 'each of us' that was getting on his nerves. Maybe it was because to Liz it was all *Max* 'riding to the rescue.' Alex had been there. Alex had saved the day by keeping Max from blasting that guy with telekinesis, and Alex had been the one to grapple with the drunken freshman while Max got to check and make sure that Liz was all right. **Let it go Alex, it doesn't matter.**
"So finally, we jump at a chance for a moment alone, talking out on my balcony while you guys hang out down here in the diner, and..."
As Liz got into the tale, while climbing up the Crashdown stairs, Alex let go of his petty resentments and listened avidly. One thing Liz had always been good at was spinning a good yarn, whether it was based on real life or made up. Even back when they were pre-teens, swapping ghost stories around a desert campfire, Alex had thought that Liz was destined to be a best-selling novelist...
* * * *
(Flashback to October 20 2000.)
"Hey," Liz repeated for about the sixth time as Max followed her over the windowsill and out onto the fire escape balcony outside her room. "Thank you, Max, for ev--"
"You've thanked me alredy," Max said, "several times. I think it's enough."
"For *everything,*" Liz continued. "I'm not talking about just tonight this time. Thank you for... for having patience with me, for staying my friend while I tried to work out what was what."
Max froze, looking across at her. "Does... does this mean you've come to some sort of a decision tonight? Something different than what you've been repeating at me every time I tried to talk about us for the last few weeks."
"I..." Liz took a deep breath. "I think maybe so." She looked out at the city spreading beneath them, then turned back to the face of the young man she loved. "D-do... do you think your destiny -- and our love, can go together, Max?"
"I d..." Max started, and then the frown that instinctively crossed Liz's face as she realized Max was falling back on one of his own 'broken record' phrases cut off the 'I don't care about my destiny.' Obviously, *Liz* cared about his destiny.
There was a pregnant pause, as Max looked over the events and revelations of the last five months in the light of what he'd just realized about Liz's priorities. "Yes... yes, I think I do. My destiny is a mission, Liz - to do what I can, and help my people. If we can ever figure out a way. Nothing more than that. It doesn't have anything to do with you and me. Or me and Tess."
"How can we be sure about that, Max?" Liz railed. "We're not who we choose to be. The last few months have made that crashingly clear to me. I can't just go against what's inside of me, the life I've led for sixteen years, and decide I'm something new. Neither can you."
"No, I guess I can't," Max agreed. "But what you don't seem to get is that that young alien king who lived and died so long ago... and who I still know next to nothing about... he might be a part of me, but he's not the definitive *ME*. He can't be. I have new..." Max held out his hand toward Liz, as if in demonstration. "I have new DNA, human DNA, that makes me at least half human. I have a new heritage, from growing up with human parents, in a human community, which has shaped me in ways I don't even know..."
"Max..." Liz said, trying to stop the gush of heartfelt words flowing out of Max, but there was no stemming the tide.
"What I *know*... is this," Max continued. "Deep down, I'm still the same person as that little kid who only vaguely understood that he was different, but was scared to death of his first day at school, until he saw a pretty girl who smiled back at him, and made him realize there were some things he never needed to be afraid of. And I'm still that lonely freshman who thought that no-one would accept me if they really knew what was inside, but who also knew that seeing Liz Evans at her locker was the high point of my day."
Liz was getting the drift - all too intensely. "And the young man who was hanging around in the Crashdown one day, near the end of the summer..."
"Because it was another chance to see you - maybe even speak to you if you were the one who came over to take Michael's and my order..."
"When an argument t- turned into a shooting incident--" Liz finished brokenly. "And though everything you were afraid of was screaming at you to get out of there lest the eyes of the law linger too long..."
"Not to mention Michael, screaming at me..."
"You rushed towards me, and put your hands on top of my bullet wound," Liz continued relentlessly. "Bringing up the risk of everything you were most afraid of, to save my life. Because..."
Max knew what game they were replaying now. "...Because it was you," he finished. "And, a few days later, I told you exactly what Isabel, Michael, and I had figured out about ourselves over a stretch of years," he continued softly. "When I could probably have still explained away what you'd seen, what you'd discovered." Liz caught her breath, she hadn't heard *this* before! "Because, more than anyone else in this world, for some deep and intentse reason, I wanted YOU to see the real me. Even though I was almost certain you wouldn't be able to accept me."
Liz just stared at him with an amazed comprehension written over her face."
And Max smiled weakly. "So, given all of that, is there anything inside me that that tells you we *can't* be together??"
Liz felt her own face smiling too, as all of the inner doubt and conflict she'd felt slid into a resolution. "No." And she stepped up to Max, drawing his face down to hers for a passionate kiss...
* * * *
(Back abruptly to October 22nd.)
"Liz!!" Her mother's voice called loudly from downstairs. "Michael Guerin is here!!"
"Whoops!" Liz said to Alex, cutting off her story in mid-smooch. "That's my cue, Alex. Thanks!"
Alex suddenly realized that Liz had changed while she'd been relating the blow-by-blow of her reconciliation with Max Evans, (probably from behind the closet door,) and was dressed up in a preppy white sweater, mid-to-short denim skirt, and little red sneakers, with her dark shiny hair bound up in a ponytail. She looked like a quintessential teenage sweetheart, probably the look she was going on for her fake dinner with her parents, her boss, and her fake boyfriend Michael. "You look great, Liz," he called as Liz headed out the door. "Knock 'em dead!"
There was no response.
So Alex sighed, headed out onto Liz's balcony, (recognizing as he did so that it was the scene of the intense conversation Liz had just relayed to him,) and down the ladder. He noticed Liz, Liz's mother and father, and Michael walking back out to the parking lot and getting into the Parker family car to drive out to wherever they were having the dinner with Whittaker. Michael was dressed up in a suit, very similar to -- was it the one he had gotten from the FBI special unit at the Eagle Rock base?? In any event, he looked very uncomfortable in it.
Alex's mind drifted back to that Max-and-Liz conversation as he walked the familiar streets home. As much as Alex felt for Isabel, they'd never had that kind of drama. The only think Alex could think of that even came close was that day Isabel had dragged him into the eraser room and told him she was ready for a relationship with him - starting right then. And of course, as later became quite obvious, both Isabel and Michael were overcompensating that day for the strange dreams they'd had the night before about each other.
Even at the best of times with Isabel, it was never grand and theatrical romance, but tender uncertainties and nervous approvals.
When Alex got to his house, the first thing he did was pick up the telephone and tap out a familiar number.
"Hello?" It was the voice of Diane Evans.
"Hello, Mrs. Evans, is Isabel there?"
"Um, no... is this Alex?" Alex made a wordless sound of agreement. "I'm sorry, Alex, Max left here about five minutes ago, he said he was going to pick up Isabel at Michael's apartment and they were going out for Tex-Mex. They probably just left his place."
"Oh, that's okay," Alex sighed, hanging up. Probably Max needed his sister's company more than Alex did right now, to take his mind off the fact that Liz was out to dinner with Max's best friend. And that suddenly gave Alex another idea what to do with his evening. He dialed another phone number.
"Hello?"
"I'm taking you out tonight. Get dressed up hot and be ready to have a great time."
"Alex??" Maria's voice was shocked.
"Come on," Alex pushed. "You don't have any other plans for tonight, do you?"
"I'd made a definite commitment to stay in and mope," Maria confessed, and then giggled softly. "Have you got your dad's car?"
"Not yet, but I'm gonna. Twenty minutes?"
"I'll be here." The phone line clicked off.
Alex smiled and went to find his father.
* * * *
"Where are we *going*, Alex??" Maria asked for the tenth time from the front passenger seat. Fortunately, this time Alex had a good answer.
"We're here." Alex slowed down and turned the steering wheel hard to the right, pulling into a parking lot. Once they had come to a complete stop in an empty space, Maria craned her head around, trying to find a name sign.
"The velvet room cafe?"
"Yeah." Alex opened his door, got out, and opened the back seat door behind him. "Hurry up, we don't have much time to get ready."
"Get ready for *what*?!" Maria grumped as she climbed out of the car herself.
Alex waited until he had taken his bass case and the binder of (hastily assembled) sheet music and closed the back door before delivering the answer. "Open mike night."
Ten minutes later, they were sitting at a table in the darkly lit, hip coffeeshop, (or 'cafe', whatever the difference was,) and arguing about songs.
"How could you not bring 'In the air tonight?'" Maria complained.
"Well, this whole thing was a little last minute," Alex argued in his own defense. "I looked for that sheet music, but couldn't find it in time. Besides, been there, done that. You've already sung that song, in public yet. Why not try something new?"
Maria shot a dark look at him. "Look, if you really want to sing 'in the air tonight,' I can back you up," Alex offered.
"No," Maria dismissed. "There's no way that song would work with just a bass. We'd need the piano player at least." She sighed loudly. "Well, out of what we've got here, I guess I'm leaning towards 'Believe.'" Alex's face quirked. "And you *hate* it."
"I don't hate it," Alex protested. "I just think it's a little... overplayed."
"You hate it."
"We can do 'believe' if you want, Maria. It's fine, I'll survive."
"No, no, it's okay. We can find something that we're both happy to do."
The MC stepped up on the stage as a twenty-something girl who had been playing an accoustic guitar and a harmonica at the same time struggled down. "Thank you, Kelly, thank you very much. And now, put your hands together for our youngest artists of the evening, Maria DeLucca and Alex Whitman!!"
Polite applause rang out from scattered tables. Alex turned to Maria and whispered "Right now??"
Maria reached into the batch of sheet music and pulled out a sheaf of papers at random. She brandished the title at him. "Can you live with this?"
Alex blinked in surprise. "Uh... yeah."
"Then off we go." Maria got up and headed over to the house pianist to give him one copy of the sheet music, while Alex set up his bass guitar and plugged it onto a microphone connected with the cafe's sound system.
All too quickly, the pianist was starting off the harmonic line, and Alex began strumming the bass chord. Maria turned to Alex for one silent 'ACKK' of fright, but calmed down when Alex nodded supportively at her, enough to begin singing.
On a september afternoon, in nineteen sixty-one
A baby girl's first cry rang out, a new life had begun
Her mother wrapped her in her arms, and she kissed the tiny brow
She said 'darling I'm just as scared as you, but I promise you somehow:'
She was doing great. Alex started to adjust his chording, ever so slightly, off of the book chording given on the notation, to support Maria's unique voice, as she went into the chorus.
"I will take care of you,
The very best that I can
With all of the love, here in my heart,
And all of the strength in my hands.
Your every joy I'll share,
For every fear I'll be there,
My whole life through...
I will take care of you."
Maria fell silent as the noted instrumental before verse two began, but she was smiling with an inner joy that Alex hadn't seen in too long. This was what he loved about music, the harmonies, the way simple pieces joined together to become a piece of incredible beauty.
On a september afternoon, in nineteen eighty-five,
That little girl had grown into a beautiful young bride.
And she, turned to the man who held her hand, in front of the waiting crowd.
They smiled at each other as they spoke, and this was the wedding vow:
Alex joined in, softly but surely, as if the groom speaking alongside Maria's imaginary 'bride':
"I will take care of you,
The very best that I can.
With all of the love, here in my heart,
And all of the strength in my hands.
Your every joy I'll share,
For every fear I'll be there,
My whole life through...
I will take care of you."
As the second chorus drew to a close, Alex signalled Maria imperatively. The bridge, the most challenging and rewarding part of the song, the real business, started immediately after the refrain was done. She couldn't miss this.
On a september afternoon, in nineteen eighty-nine,
Girl waiting by a hospital bed, never leaving her mother's side
She said: 'Mama, why don't you close your eyes, try to get some rest.
Maria was singing incredibly, with more power and flair than Alex had known she was capable of yet. He almost forgot to keep strumming, what he really wanted to do was be able to sit and just listen to her. No, on second thought Alex wouldn't miss active participation for the ability to sit and listen passively, if more carefully. Not this time, perhaps another night.
It's my turn to take care of you: I learned from the best.
I will take care of you!!'
Alex played a bit more boldly and strongly himself in the short instrumental here, trying to live up to Maria's performance.
With all of the love, here in my heart,
And all of the strength in my hands.
**And now, wind down as the life of the girl in the song turns full circle:**
On a september afternoon, in nineteen ninety-one,
A baby girl's first cries rang ouy,
A new life --
...had begun.
Cheers and applause rang out loudly from the cafe's audience as Alex and Maria bowed and returned to their seats.
* * * *
Jeff Anthony Parker. Michael Guerin. Nancy Cameron Parker. Vanessa Kingsley Whittaker. Elizabeth June Parker.
The five of them looked at each other awkwardly over one of the best tables at 'La maison Riviera.'
"Umm..." Liz hmmed, obviously looking for something to say to put the latest uncomfortable silence behind them. "Uhh, anyone for desert?"
"Fine idea," Whittaker agreed after a second. "Garcon?" That was called out to a waiter twelve feet away (and who had been going over to take someone else's order, though that didn't seem to bother Whittaker.) "The dessert cart, 'tout de suite,' and a snifter of cognac." She turned to Liz's parents. "Jeff? Nancy?? Anything from the bar?"
Nancy Parker demurred with an automatic shake of her head. Jeff got as far as "n-" ad then apparently shrugged his shoulders with a 'what the heck' shrug. "Brandy Alexander."
Vanessa Whittaker turned to add the drink to her order, only to find that the poor waiter, (A roswellite who Michael vaguely recognized as having been a senior in the high school when he was a freshman, and who apparently wasn't very good at faking the standard french/italian accent required at this restaurant,) had already disappeared. Vanessa shrugged, and nodded apologetically at Mister Parker, as if to say 'I'll remember to tell the boy when he comes by with the dessert tray.'
Vanessa and Nancy started talking lazily about the business climate in Roswell, boring Michael totally, and soon enough Pierre (Pete) the waiter did indeed come by with the dessert tray.
Liz couldn't make up her mind what to order at first, and she examined the selection available as others made their picks.
Her attention was drawn to one particular confection - it looked like a scuplted chunk of ice cream with a pale pink tint. The weird thing was, it was surrounded by a webbing of stringy white fibers - presumably icing or something. But the overall effect was eerie. Where had Liz seen something like that?
It hit her suddenly. Michael - after he had gotten sick in the Indian sweatlodge. Pale pink skin, white fibers covering his body everywhere...
Michael leaned over, faking his solicitous boyfriend mode as he had been all evening. "Ooh, I think my little sweetpea has made her choice." He reached out and put the dish in question in front of Liz on the table. "Eat up."
It was too much. The suggestion of actually *eating* this dish after Liz had made the mental connection was too revolting. "Uhh... uhh -- excuse me," she managed to mutter, and left the table in a hurry, making good time for the ladies' room.
"Uhhh... whoops," Michael muttered lamely. For some reason, all he could think of were the old movies where verybody guesses that the girl is pregnant because she runs out of the room and throws up every time she smells a certain food.
Michael was pretty sure that Liz wasn't *really* pregnant, though he didn't have any clue what was going on. But if the PARKERS got the idea that their darling daughter was knocked up, then Michael was stuck in the prime suspect's seat. Not good. Time for some damage control.
"Umm... I hope that Liz is feeling okay. She mentioned her stomach felt a little queasy this afternoon." Silent pause. "Would you like to try some of the raspberry sherbert, Mrs. Parker? It's incredible.
By the time Liz had gotten her stomach nerves back under control and her dramatic courage at a sufficiently high level, everyone else was ready to leave, and Liz was in no mood to argue. Whittaker left from the restaurant, her parents dropped Michael off outside his apartment, (with a goodbye handshake from Liz that she hoped didn't seem weird or 'obviously hiding too much' to her parents.)
It was after Liz was in bed and asleep that Liz heard her parents talking...
Her dad: "I don't understand what you're so upset about, Nancy."
Her mom: "I've heard Maria talking about Michael - and *to* Michael, when she's on shift. She's crazy about him. And I did *not* bring up Liz to be the kind of girl who steals her best friend's man!!"
* * * *
(October 23 2000.)
Alex walked into West Roswell High the next day on a natural high. Why not? Isabel had agreed that they were on their way 'back', and he'd turned a best friend's night of prospective moping into an incredible experience in dream fufillment.
Maria and Alex had done three numbers in all at the Velvet Room, each to a chorus of applause that beat the average, Alex thought. "Have to try that again..." Alex whispered to himself.
Over at Liz's locker, Liz and Maria were discussing Liz and Michael's dinner loud enough for Alex to overhear as he approached. "Anyways, so Michael decided to order for me, but..."
"He ordered for you?!"
"Well yeah, but you're missing the point. What he actually said to the waiter was..."
"Liz, I don't care. Michael has never even *tried* to order for me!!"
Alex chose this moment to stop eavesdropping and make his entrance. "Sorry to cut off the gab session, lovey ladies, but do you really think this is something you should be talking about in the high school proper?" Alex waved his hand around to demonstrate.
There were a number of other students who had been close enough to hear what Liz and Maria had been saying. Possibly none of them had cared to pay attention or realized anything out of the ordinary about the conversation, but the message was clear.
There was an awkward silence for a few seconds, as Liz finished getting her books out her locker, and then Maria changed the subject. "Liz, you'll never guess what Alex and I did last night!!"
Liz grinned. "No, you're right, I won't, so you'd better tell me."
"He dragged me to an open mike night at a swanky coffeehouse called the Velvet Room. You should!ve heard the way people were chhering when I finished with 'I will take care of you.' They were cheering, right Alex?"
"Truthfully they were," Alex agreed.
"Oh, *wow*!! You guys have *got* to let me come along and watch... er, listen next time," Liz decided.
"On one condition," Alex teased her. "You have to sing a number yourself. No non-performers allowed."
"Now, that's not fair," Liz protested. "I'm not a musician like the two of you are. I'd just embarass us all..."
The negotiations continued on as three old friends made their way to trig class.
* * * *
(October 23 2000.)
Alex's third period course was history, which meant Isabel. She was in that class too, and none of the rest of Alex's friends were... well, unless you counted Tess, which Alex had to admit he usually didn't.
Just seeing Iz put a thrill through Alex's spine as he remembered their afternoon yesterday, and he wished that Mrs. Glenson didn't insist on strict adherence to the seating chart so that he could sit next to her. Unfortunately Alex's seat was in the middle of the right side of the room, while Isabel was one row ahead and two spots to the left of him.
Well, desperate situations called for desperate measures. As Mrs. Glenson droned on about the Reconstruction period, Alex tore a piece of his notebook off. Now, what to write? Feeling a little low on inspiration, he settled for 'Hey, beautiful. Didn't I see you yesterday at the Olde Towne? A.W.' Folding his missive in quarters, Alex palmed it off to Bob Reeger in the seat next to him, hoping that he was showing the correct technique. Passing notes in the middle of class wasn't exactly Alex's scene, but he knew it was too easy to get caught, and Alex really didn't feel like public humiliation today.
Bob took the note very smoothly, without even looking at Alex. *He* obviously have a lot of experience with this. Unfortunately, not looking meant that Bob didn't realize that Alex was discretely pointing over at Isabel. He started to open the note up. Alex swung his foot into Bob's desk leg.
That got his attention; Bob looked over at Alex in shock and finally noticed the pointing. He folded the note up again and passed it forwards, tapping it on Trudy's left elbow and then holding it out while Trudy made a similar no-looking pickup to Bob's own style. From there, the note ended up right in the middle of Isabel's desk, and she opened it up, smiled faintly, looked around to find Alex looking over at her, and grinned quickly at him before going and writing a note of her own.
Isabel tore the note out of her notepaper after she had finished writing it, and passed it back to Trudy behind Trudy's chair. Trudy tossed it across onto the corner of Alex's desk. 'No, I don't think I recognize you. Wish I did, though - you're cute!' A big grinny-face completed the flirtacious note.
Ice broken, mission accomplished. Alex tried a second note on a different tack. 'How was Tex-Mex with Max last night?'
Now... what was the trick here? It seemed that the delivery method encoded instructions for the further routing of the note. But Alex didn't know the code. So, trusting to faith and avoiding Bob because of the prior mixum, Alex leaned forward and tapped Trudy on the shoulder with his new note, hoping that she'd realize to give it back the way she got the one from Isabel. She did, but not before writing a little something on the folded-up front for Isabel.
Iz blushed when she read what Trudy had written, and just laughed a tiny bit when she got to Alex's attempt at written small talk. Back came a new note, from Trudy to Bob. Bob, apparently curious now, tried to open up this note too, but Isabel was watching. Her gorgeous eyes narrowed, and the note flipped back shut again, Bob rubbing his finger as if it had been stung.
This note read 'Is that all you want to ask me, Alex? ;-)' A postscript noted how Alex should pass the note to Brynn Malley, sitting in front of him, so that Brynn would know to pass it across to Isabel. Alex could barely stifle his laugh.
Mrs. Glenson was starting to suspect that something was up now, but Alex couldn't resist following up on Isabel's invitation. Part of what had been so great about the night before with Maria had been acting spontaneous and decisive, so he decided to be spontaneous and decisive with Isabel. 'Meet me in the west foyer after seventh period. We're cutting class.'
Isabel stared back at Alex in surprise once she'd read his words, but she nodded yes.
* * * *
Sure enough, at a quarter to three that afternoon Isabel was waiting for him around the corner from the languages room, just inside the big double doors. "So, we're cutting class, are we?"
Alex smiled broadly, making sure that no teachers or vice-principals were around. "Yup."
"And exactly what are we doing while we're playing hooky?"
Alex smiled. "Well, I was thinking of a little bit of hiking down in the park. That's romantic, right?"
Isabel made a face. "Hiking? I don't go in for hiking much, Alex. Too sweaty. And this shirt is silk, you know."
Alex shook his head, smiling. "It doesn't *have* to be sweaty. It depends on how slow you go."
Isabel grinned at that. "Are you sure you want to be going *slower*, Alex?"
"I'm just talking about walking, Iz."
"Okay, if you're in then I'm in. Let's go." Isabel led the way out of the school to the parking lot where Alex had parked. As she stepped down the stairs outside the doors, Isabel pulled a bit of paper out of her pocket and started towards the trash bin.
"Oh hey, what's that?" Alex asked her.
"Oh, just one of your notes." Isabel showed him the folded paper, and Alex noticed some writing on the outside - it was the one Trudy had jotted down a note on.
"Can I take a look at that?"
"Hmm?" Isabel blushed slightly. "Well, I guess." She handed it to him.
The note from Trudy read 'I don't think your boyfriend knows how to pass notes in class, Isabel.'
* * * *
(It's gonna be October 23 2000 for a while, except when it's October 20 2001, so get used to it! :-D )
Michael heard the knock at his apartment door. "Hang on," he muttered into the phone. "Who is it??" That was called out louder, with the cordless telephone away from his face.
"Who the pod do you think it is, Maria? You told me to come over this afternoon to talk." Obviously Maria.
"Come in," he sighed, and turned his attention back to the phone. "Hey, Max?"
Max's voice came very dimly through the connection. "Just get me anything from the fridge, Liz, I don't really care that much..."
"Is Liz there with you??" Michael called louder into the phone.
"What??" Max's voice cleared up - presumably he was bringing his receiver closer to his own face. "Yeah, she came over with me after school, why?"
"Well..." Michael turned away from the door, where Maria had just let herself in -- looking fine, like she always did. But he didn't want Maria to hear about this yet. "I just... I'm concerned about something. About Liz."
"What??" Max seemed surprised by that. "Did something go wrong last night at the dinner? Liz said everything went fine - or as good as could be expected."
"No, this has nothing to do with that. Or not really. Just... what do you know about Liz's trip to Florida?"
"Huh??? Just that she was visiting an aunt there, why??"
"See if you can find out more. I have a hunch that there might have been a guy in the picture - like the last few weeks before labor day, rebound thing. If so, the situation could be serious."
"What the hell are you talking about, Michael. Why should there have been..."
"Hey, cool lamp," Maria's voice came from out in Michael's living room.
"Hey, don't touch my stuff," Michael called, moving to where he could keep an eye on Maria but she hopefully still couldn't hear what he was saying to Max very well.
"Are you just spewing out wild and crazy theories as per usual, Michael, or do you actually have some solid reason to believe that there's some other guy inv..." Max was saying.
"Aahh!!" Maria screamed. Michael turned to stare at her again. She was holding his blue crystal desk lamp... so much for not touching his stuff. But suddenly he could see why she was screaming. Something was coming out of the lamp - like an energy field, or a vortex.
"What the hell??" he had time to demand out loud, into the phone. And then he wasn't there any more.
"Michael? Michael??" Max's voice called out tinnily from the phone's speaker into the apartment, now empty of any human (or hybrid) beings. "What's happened? What's going on?? Michael?!?"
TO BE CONTINUED.
Author: Chris Kenworthy
Email: Chris_Kenworthy@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: No, I don't own any of the Roswell characters. I don't plan to steal them and lock them up in white rooms either. I just let them out to play from time to time and see what happens.
Distribution: Distribute anywhere you like, currently based at fanatics: http://www.roswellfanatics.net/
Feedback: YES PLEASE!
Category: Alternate timeline epic. Conventional couples angst leading up to UC in later parts - you have been warned!
Rating: PG-13, for now
Summary: Alien mysteries lead to an interesting year...
Spoilers: Up to 'Ask not'
Section 3: The sarabande
(October 20 2001 again.)
A hand waved at them from Michael's apartment soon after the limo pulled up on the street below. About a minute later, Michael Guerin himself apppeared at the building door, dressed up to the nines in a powder blue tuxedo, strutting down the walk for all that he was worth.
Michael opened the limo door and looked inside. "What, no girls?! Don't tell me I wasted that walk on the two of you!!"
Max laughed as Michael climbed into the car in a huff, and Alex smiled at him sypathetically. "You know how it is, man. Schedule permitting, the girls get to make the big dramatic entrance while the guys are watching, not the other way around." Michael smiled a bit at that. "We're picking Maria up next." The smile broadened.
Max gave the limo driver the address, and the three guys leaned back on the plush leather seats. "So..." Michael muttered after a few moments, when the awkward silence was getting uncomfortable.
"Alex and I were taking a trip down memory lane," Max volunteered. "The Banks party, first parlour games club, stuff like that."
Michael nodded with an interested smile. "Right. So I guess the next stop was my trial by fire, right?"
Alex cast his mind back. "Well... almost, man. Almost next."
* * * *
(October 22 2000.)
Alex fidgeted nervously with his water glass for what felt like the nine hundredth time. From the window booth he had asked for at the Olde Towne cafe, the bright Roswell sunshine was streaming in past his shoulder and onto the table, and he had a great view of the interior of the ritzy coffehouse. But he wasn't seeing the one person he wanted to see.
"Hey." As if to mock Alex for his doubt, when he turned and looked up, there was Isabel. "Where did... how did you get in without me spotting you?" he blurted out. For a second he imagined Isabel using molecular manipulation to move the wall aside and create a passageway, but the picture of Isabel using her powers so openly was hardly believable.
"Fire door," Isabel pointed out. "It's never kept locked. I didn't mean to startle you, Alex, it was just the nearest way to come in."
Alex nodded in a gesture of comprehension and felt the familiar 'Isabel grin' grow on his face. She was dressed very formally - a silk, cream-colored dress with a green holly pattern, a matching off-white sweater overtop, and her blonde hair pinned up. For a second, Alex was embarassed for having come slightly underdressed in just a casual shirt and slacks, and then realized that Isabel had probaby come from church.
"So, how are you, Isabel?" he asked conversationally.
"Do you know what we're doing here?" Is blurted out all of a sudden.
Alex blinked in surprise and stalled for time while he evaluated the question. "I thought we were having lunch here."
Isabel waved that away with an impatient gesture. "Bigger picture. What are we doing here together, in a relationship sense? Are we just friends, are we hooking back up?? Because..." she sighed, and Alex could sense a great weariness in that exhalation, "I'm getting really tired of trying to figure it out."
Alex thought hard about how to reply to this. On the surface, Isabel seemed to be leaving him a perfect opening to define their relationship - but some deep instinct told him that if he reached too far right now, he could scare her off again. "S-somewhere in between?" he blurted out. "I mean, I don't feel as if we're 'hooking up' or getting together right at this moment. But I'm sure that the way I feel about you goes deeper than 'just friends,' Isabel. And I don't think you could say it's only friendship for you either."
He looked over at Isabel, wondering how she would reply to that. The way it had all come out, if she *did* say 'No, just friends, that's all I feel,' Alex wouldn't have anywhere to go from there. But after a few long seconds of thought, Isabel nodded. "You're right, I can't say... that." She smiled. "But I'm still scared of what... the other thing might mean."
"So let's take it really slow," Alex offered, with a smile, and taking a sip of his water. "So, Isabel Evans, how has your day been so far?"
Is laughed softly. "Pretty good. I just came from church with my folks. Nice service today."
"Ah," Alex replied. "I was wondering... was worried I was underdressed here for a moment."
"Well, you are," Is told him matter-of-factly. "But I'll let it go just this once."
"Underdressed?" Alex repeated, this time with a trace of indignation. "For what? I mean, if this isn't even a date..."
"Underdressed for a Sunday lunch..." Isabel began, but right then the waitress cleared her throat and asked if she could take their orders.
* * * *
"S... so," Alex forced himself as they strolled down Rogers street through the sparse sunday afternoon crowds. "Um, how about doing something like this again soon. Only somewhat more date-ey?"
Isabel laughed her melodious laugh and smiled up at him. "Sure. When do you want it??"
"Umm..." Caught by surprise, Alex felt his mind blanking. "When, umm, when is good for you?"
"Well, looks like I won't be too available tomorrow night," Isabel decided weightly, "so how about Tuesday?" A pause. "We - we can finally go see a movie together. 'X-men' is on at the two-dollar house, I never did get to see that."
Alex smiled back. "It sounds amazing. But... well, uh, what's tomorrow night?"
Is looked at him for a second as if he was slow. "Michael's big discussion with Maria, remember? Trust me, *none* of us will be having a good evening tomorrow."
Alex shook his head. "C'mon, Iz, it won't be *that* bad."
"It's Michael," Isabel reiterated. "And Maria. Discussing the future of their relationship. It's doomed."
Alex blinked in surprise. "I never knew you felt that way."
"I'm not saying 'Michael and Maria' are doomed," Isabel quickly qualified. "I wish them all the best together, and they've got a shot. But talking - especially talking about their relationship -- that's where Michael and Maria always go wrong. They should just keep quiet and see where that gets them..."
At that point, Isabel's somewhat giddy soapbox ramble was cut short, because suddenly a short, striking figure slipped through the nearest promenaders to stand right in Alex and Isabel's path. "You've got to help me!" she announced in a voice that wasn't particularly loud but undeniably intense.
Alex was so surprised that it was actually half a second after she had finished speaking that he actually recognized the person addressing him was Liz. "Oh, no," he whispered. "Alien attack?"
"Worse," Liz confided.
"What could possibly be worse?" Isabel murmured discretely, drawing Liz beside her and leading both Liz and Alex on down the sidewalk, presumably to avoid attracking attention as a obstacle to foot traffic.
"It is precisely..." Liz checked her watch ceremonially, "thirty-three minutes before Michael is supposed to pick me up for dinner and we are freakin' out!!"
"We?" Alex repeated, looking back and forth as if expecting Michael to wave hello.
"I was on the phone with him just before I came to find you guys," Liz explained. "I mean... think about it a second. It's me and Michael. Michael and I. Having to pretend for an entire evening that we are, or at least were, girlfriend and boyfriend. For not only the benefit of Congresswoman Whittaker, but *my parents!*" Liz wilted visibly with that last.
"Okay, listen up." Isabel pulled slightly harder on Liz's arm, swinging the shorter girl about slightly, and looked straight into her eyes. "Michael should never have opened his big mouth and gotten you into this. But he did, and we can't change that now. You have to follow through, or we're going to have a very powerful and very rich lady asking even MORE questions about us, which is the one thing we don't need. Can you do it?"
"Yes," Liz mumbled softly, then smiled up at Isabel and Alex. "Yeah, of course I can, I know I have to. It's just... I know I could do with a bit of a non-pep talk. Something to keep me from getting nerves, until the moment when I'm 'on.' And I know Michael could use... something. I dunno. But anyways, that's why I came looking for you guys."
A little light bulb went on above Alex's head. "I go with you, Is heads over to Michael's?"
"Pretty much, yeah." Liz looked Isabel in the eyes. "You don't object *too* much to the fact that I brought your special afternoon together to a pretty much crashing halt, do you?"
Isabel took a sidelong glance at Alex. "No. Not *too* much." With a wink, she disengaged and quickly took her bearings for Michael's apartment. "Call me tonight?"
"Sure," Liz called back, giggling. Alex shook his head at Liz's joke and nodded agreement to Iz, who smiled brilliantly back and then took off.
"So..." Alex thought about what to say as he and Liz, by unspoken agreement, began slowly walking back in the direction of the Crashdown. "I'm 'distraction guy,' am I?"
"You know what I mean," Liz chided, swatting his side softly with tender fingers. "Being around you helps me to feel like everything is normal. I like that about you."
"That's funny," Alex said with a soft chuckle. "Because, Liz Parker, being around you helps me to feel like nothing is normal, and I like that about *you*!"
Liz laughed out loud. "So... all non-normalness aside, what's new?"
Alex stifled a sardonic laugh, but Liz caught it and glared up at him. "What was that for?"
"I was just remembering the last time you asked me 'all aside, what's new?'" Alex explained. "As I recall, the topic that came to mind was the Banks' house party, and we all know how normal *that* ended up." A slight pause. "I mean, I get the general idea at least."
Liz giggled. "Alex Charles Whitman, are you asking me what happened that night that you DIDN'T know about?"
"If, um..." Alex stammered, blushing. "If it's appropriate distraction guy material. I mean, I'm not really sure what I'm doing here, aside from getting your mind off - stuff." Had Alex covered up that gap quickly enough to keep Liz from getting her mind on what she was supposed to be getting her mind off? He couldn't be sure.
"Hmm..." Liz seemed to be thinking, and Alex couldn't tell about what. "Yeah, I'd say that would be okay. Should help me method 'happy happy girl' mode, at least." Liz plastered an impossibly wide grin across her face for a second. "Okay, well, you were there when it all started - that guy trying to manhandle me in Courtney Banks' second floor hallway, right?"
"Yeah," Alex agreed. "Just out of curiosity, how did you find yourself in that situation anyway? I mean... don't feel you have to furnish upsetting details, but..."
"Oh, don't worry, I won't," Liz assured him with a breezy smile and a wink. "Well... I got knocked in the pool, as you might remember, and Courtney took me up to her room to get changed. By the time I was done, she had left, and I bumped into that jerk on the way out. He was more than a little drunk, and feeling friendly, and I wasn't quite sure how to tell him no and make him understand. Then... well, that's about when you two guys came in."
"Interesting," Alex said, filing away the tidbit in his mind. He'd shared his suspicions with Max that the whole incident had been staged to anger Max into using his powers to attack the drunk guy in front of witnesses. But he didn't feel ready to tell that theory to Liz - not right now anyway, while she was already feeling nervous about the Whittaker thing. "So, that was when it all started?" he prompted.
Liz picked up the cue. "I was scared and there, riding up in the nick of time, (as it were,) was Max. Everything I feel for him, everything I'd been trying to deny all summer... I couldn't argue with it anymore. I felt this desperate need to talk to Max about it, to tell him I still loved him and still wanted to be with him, but it just *so* obviously wasn't the right time, with everyone staring, and Steve and Courtney arguing over how that guy got invited in the first place.
"Max led me away, we found Maria and Michael, you looked for Isabel but couldn't find her right away, and we all crowded into the Jeep and took off, and still Max and I weren't really talking. It was like each of us was waiting for the other to say something, but neither of us wanted to say what was on our mind in front of... well, you guys."
"Okay," Alex said reassuringly, as Liz led the way into the Crashdown. He knew he had asked for this story, but somehow the 'max and I' this and 'each of us' that was getting on his nerves. Maybe it was because to Liz it was all *Max* 'riding to the rescue.' Alex had been there. Alex had saved the day by keeping Max from blasting that guy with telekinesis, and Alex had been the one to grapple with the drunken freshman while Max got to check and make sure that Liz was all right. **Let it go Alex, it doesn't matter.**
"So finally, we jump at a chance for a moment alone, talking out on my balcony while you guys hang out down here in the diner, and..."
As Liz got into the tale, while climbing up the Crashdown stairs, Alex let go of his petty resentments and listened avidly. One thing Liz had always been good at was spinning a good yarn, whether it was based on real life or made up. Even back when they were pre-teens, swapping ghost stories around a desert campfire, Alex had thought that Liz was destined to be a best-selling novelist...
* * * *
(Flashback to October 20 2000.)
"Hey," Liz repeated for about the sixth time as Max followed her over the windowsill and out onto the fire escape balcony outside her room. "Thank you, Max, for ev--"
"You've thanked me alredy," Max said, "several times. I think it's enough."
"For *everything,*" Liz continued. "I'm not talking about just tonight this time. Thank you for... for having patience with me, for staying my friend while I tried to work out what was what."
Max froze, looking across at her. "Does... does this mean you've come to some sort of a decision tonight? Something different than what you've been repeating at me every time I tried to talk about us for the last few weeks."
"I..." Liz took a deep breath. "I think maybe so." She looked out at the city spreading beneath them, then turned back to the face of the young man she loved. "D-do... do you think your destiny -- and our love, can go together, Max?"
"I d..." Max started, and then the frown that instinctively crossed Liz's face as she realized Max was falling back on one of his own 'broken record' phrases cut off the 'I don't care about my destiny.' Obviously, *Liz* cared about his destiny.
There was a pregnant pause, as Max looked over the events and revelations of the last five months in the light of what he'd just realized about Liz's priorities. "Yes... yes, I think I do. My destiny is a mission, Liz - to do what I can, and help my people. If we can ever figure out a way. Nothing more than that. It doesn't have anything to do with you and me. Or me and Tess."
"How can we be sure about that, Max?" Liz railed. "We're not who we choose to be. The last few months have made that crashingly clear to me. I can't just go against what's inside of me, the life I've led for sixteen years, and decide I'm something new. Neither can you."
"No, I guess I can't," Max agreed. "But what you don't seem to get is that that young alien king who lived and died so long ago... and who I still know next to nothing about... he might be a part of me, but he's not the definitive *ME*. He can't be. I have new..." Max held out his hand toward Liz, as if in demonstration. "I have new DNA, human DNA, that makes me at least half human. I have a new heritage, from growing up with human parents, in a human community, which has shaped me in ways I don't even know..."
"Max..." Liz said, trying to stop the gush of heartfelt words flowing out of Max, but there was no stemming the tide.
"What I *know*... is this," Max continued. "Deep down, I'm still the same person as that little kid who only vaguely understood that he was different, but was scared to death of his first day at school, until he saw a pretty girl who smiled back at him, and made him realize there were some things he never needed to be afraid of. And I'm still that lonely freshman who thought that no-one would accept me if they really knew what was inside, but who also knew that seeing Liz Evans at her locker was the high point of my day."
Liz was getting the drift - all too intensely. "And the young man who was hanging around in the Crashdown one day, near the end of the summer..."
"Because it was another chance to see you - maybe even speak to you if you were the one who came over to take Michael's and my order..."
"When an argument t- turned into a shooting incident--" Liz finished brokenly. "And though everything you were afraid of was screaming at you to get out of there lest the eyes of the law linger too long..."
"Not to mention Michael, screaming at me..."
"You rushed towards me, and put your hands on top of my bullet wound," Liz continued relentlessly. "Bringing up the risk of everything you were most afraid of, to save my life. Because..."
Max knew what game they were replaying now. "...Because it was you," he finished. "And, a few days later, I told you exactly what Isabel, Michael, and I had figured out about ourselves over a stretch of years," he continued softly. "When I could probably have still explained away what you'd seen, what you'd discovered." Liz caught her breath, she hadn't heard *this* before! "Because, more than anyone else in this world, for some deep and intentse reason, I wanted YOU to see the real me. Even though I was almost certain you wouldn't be able to accept me."
Liz just stared at him with an amazed comprehension written over her face."
And Max smiled weakly. "So, given all of that, is there anything inside me that that tells you we *can't* be together??"
Liz felt her own face smiling too, as all of the inner doubt and conflict she'd felt slid into a resolution. "No." And she stepped up to Max, drawing his face down to hers for a passionate kiss...
* * * *
(Back abruptly to October 22nd.)
"Liz!!" Her mother's voice called loudly from downstairs. "Michael Guerin is here!!"
"Whoops!" Liz said to Alex, cutting off her story in mid-smooch. "That's my cue, Alex. Thanks!"
Alex suddenly realized that Liz had changed while she'd been relating the blow-by-blow of her reconciliation with Max Evans, (probably from behind the closet door,) and was dressed up in a preppy white sweater, mid-to-short denim skirt, and little red sneakers, with her dark shiny hair bound up in a ponytail. She looked like a quintessential teenage sweetheart, probably the look she was going on for her fake dinner with her parents, her boss, and her fake boyfriend Michael. "You look great, Liz," he called as Liz headed out the door. "Knock 'em dead!"
There was no response.
So Alex sighed, headed out onto Liz's balcony, (recognizing as he did so that it was the scene of the intense conversation Liz had just relayed to him,) and down the ladder. He noticed Liz, Liz's mother and father, and Michael walking back out to the parking lot and getting into the Parker family car to drive out to wherever they were having the dinner with Whittaker. Michael was dressed up in a suit, very similar to -- was it the one he had gotten from the FBI special unit at the Eagle Rock base?? In any event, he looked very uncomfortable in it.
Alex's mind drifted back to that Max-and-Liz conversation as he walked the familiar streets home. As much as Alex felt for Isabel, they'd never had that kind of drama. The only think Alex could think of that even came close was that day Isabel had dragged him into the eraser room and told him she was ready for a relationship with him - starting right then. And of course, as later became quite obvious, both Isabel and Michael were overcompensating that day for the strange dreams they'd had the night before about each other.
Even at the best of times with Isabel, it was never grand and theatrical romance, but tender uncertainties and nervous approvals.
When Alex got to his house, the first thing he did was pick up the telephone and tap out a familiar number.
"Hello?" It was the voice of Diane Evans.
"Hello, Mrs. Evans, is Isabel there?"
"Um, no... is this Alex?" Alex made a wordless sound of agreement. "I'm sorry, Alex, Max left here about five minutes ago, he said he was going to pick up Isabel at Michael's apartment and they were going out for Tex-Mex. They probably just left his place."
"Oh, that's okay," Alex sighed, hanging up. Probably Max needed his sister's company more than Alex did right now, to take his mind off the fact that Liz was out to dinner with Max's best friend. And that suddenly gave Alex another idea what to do with his evening. He dialed another phone number.
"Hello?"
"I'm taking you out tonight. Get dressed up hot and be ready to have a great time."
"Alex??" Maria's voice was shocked.
"Come on," Alex pushed. "You don't have any other plans for tonight, do you?"
"I'd made a definite commitment to stay in and mope," Maria confessed, and then giggled softly. "Have you got your dad's car?"
"Not yet, but I'm gonna. Twenty minutes?"
"I'll be here." The phone line clicked off.
Alex smiled and went to find his father.
* * * *
"Where are we *going*, Alex??" Maria asked for the tenth time from the front passenger seat. Fortunately, this time Alex had a good answer.
"We're here." Alex slowed down and turned the steering wheel hard to the right, pulling into a parking lot. Once they had come to a complete stop in an empty space, Maria craned her head around, trying to find a name sign.
"The velvet room cafe?"
"Yeah." Alex opened his door, got out, and opened the back seat door behind him. "Hurry up, we don't have much time to get ready."
"Get ready for *what*?!" Maria grumped as she climbed out of the car herself.
Alex waited until he had taken his bass case and the binder of (hastily assembled) sheet music and closed the back door before delivering the answer. "Open mike night."
Ten minutes later, they were sitting at a table in the darkly lit, hip coffeeshop, (or 'cafe', whatever the difference was,) and arguing about songs.
"How could you not bring 'In the air tonight?'" Maria complained.
"Well, this whole thing was a little last minute," Alex argued in his own defense. "I looked for that sheet music, but couldn't find it in time. Besides, been there, done that. You've already sung that song, in public yet. Why not try something new?"
Maria shot a dark look at him. "Look, if you really want to sing 'in the air tonight,' I can back you up," Alex offered.
"No," Maria dismissed. "There's no way that song would work with just a bass. We'd need the piano player at least." She sighed loudly. "Well, out of what we've got here, I guess I'm leaning towards 'Believe.'" Alex's face quirked. "And you *hate* it."
"I don't hate it," Alex protested. "I just think it's a little... overplayed."
"You hate it."
"We can do 'believe' if you want, Maria. It's fine, I'll survive."
"No, no, it's okay. We can find something that we're both happy to do."
The MC stepped up on the stage as a twenty-something girl who had been playing an accoustic guitar and a harmonica at the same time struggled down. "Thank you, Kelly, thank you very much. And now, put your hands together for our youngest artists of the evening, Maria DeLucca and Alex Whitman!!"
Polite applause rang out from scattered tables. Alex turned to Maria and whispered "Right now??"
Maria reached into the batch of sheet music and pulled out a sheaf of papers at random. She brandished the title at him. "Can you live with this?"
Alex blinked in surprise. "Uh... yeah."
"Then off we go." Maria got up and headed over to the house pianist to give him one copy of the sheet music, while Alex set up his bass guitar and plugged it onto a microphone connected with the cafe's sound system.
All too quickly, the pianist was starting off the harmonic line, and Alex began strumming the bass chord. Maria turned to Alex for one silent 'ACKK' of fright, but calmed down when Alex nodded supportively at her, enough to begin singing.
On a september afternoon, in nineteen sixty-one
A baby girl's first cry rang out, a new life had begun
Her mother wrapped her in her arms, and she kissed the tiny brow
She said 'darling I'm just as scared as you, but I promise you somehow:'
She was doing great. Alex started to adjust his chording, ever so slightly, off of the book chording given on the notation, to support Maria's unique voice, as she went into the chorus.
"I will take care of you,
The very best that I can
With all of the love, here in my heart,
And all of the strength in my hands.
Your every joy I'll share,
For every fear I'll be there,
My whole life through...
I will take care of you."
Maria fell silent as the noted instrumental before verse two began, but she was smiling with an inner joy that Alex hadn't seen in too long. This was what he loved about music, the harmonies, the way simple pieces joined together to become a piece of incredible beauty.
On a september afternoon, in nineteen eighty-five,
That little girl had grown into a beautiful young bride.
And she, turned to the man who held her hand, in front of the waiting crowd.
They smiled at each other as they spoke, and this was the wedding vow:
Alex joined in, softly but surely, as if the groom speaking alongside Maria's imaginary 'bride':
"I will take care of you,
The very best that I can.
With all of the love, here in my heart,
And all of the strength in my hands.
Your every joy I'll share,
For every fear I'll be there,
My whole life through...
I will take care of you."
As the second chorus drew to a close, Alex signalled Maria imperatively. The bridge, the most challenging and rewarding part of the song, the real business, started immediately after the refrain was done. She couldn't miss this.
On a september afternoon, in nineteen eighty-nine,
Girl waiting by a hospital bed, never leaving her mother's side
She said: 'Mama, why don't you close your eyes, try to get some rest.
Maria was singing incredibly, with more power and flair than Alex had known she was capable of yet. He almost forgot to keep strumming, what he really wanted to do was be able to sit and just listen to her. No, on second thought Alex wouldn't miss active participation for the ability to sit and listen passively, if more carefully. Not this time, perhaps another night.
It's my turn to take care of you: I learned from the best.
I will take care of you!!'
Alex played a bit more boldly and strongly himself in the short instrumental here, trying to live up to Maria's performance.
With all of the love, here in my heart,
And all of the strength in my hands.
**And now, wind down as the life of the girl in the song turns full circle:**
On a september afternoon, in nineteen ninety-one,
A baby girl's first cries rang ouy,
A new life --
...had begun.
Cheers and applause rang out loudly from the cafe's audience as Alex and Maria bowed and returned to their seats.
* * * *
Jeff Anthony Parker. Michael Guerin. Nancy Cameron Parker. Vanessa Kingsley Whittaker. Elizabeth June Parker.
The five of them looked at each other awkwardly over one of the best tables at 'La maison Riviera.'
"Umm..." Liz hmmed, obviously looking for something to say to put the latest uncomfortable silence behind them. "Uhh, anyone for desert?"
"Fine idea," Whittaker agreed after a second. "Garcon?" That was called out to a waiter twelve feet away (and who had been going over to take someone else's order, though that didn't seem to bother Whittaker.) "The dessert cart, 'tout de suite,' and a snifter of cognac." She turned to Liz's parents. "Jeff? Nancy?? Anything from the bar?"
Nancy Parker demurred with an automatic shake of her head. Jeff got as far as "n-" ad then apparently shrugged his shoulders with a 'what the heck' shrug. "Brandy Alexander."
Vanessa Whittaker turned to add the drink to her order, only to find that the poor waiter, (A roswellite who Michael vaguely recognized as having been a senior in the high school when he was a freshman, and who apparently wasn't very good at faking the standard french/italian accent required at this restaurant,) had already disappeared. Vanessa shrugged, and nodded apologetically at Mister Parker, as if to say 'I'll remember to tell the boy when he comes by with the dessert tray.'
Vanessa and Nancy started talking lazily about the business climate in Roswell, boring Michael totally, and soon enough Pierre (Pete) the waiter did indeed come by with the dessert tray.
Liz couldn't make up her mind what to order at first, and she examined the selection available as others made their picks.
Her attention was drawn to one particular confection - it looked like a scuplted chunk of ice cream with a pale pink tint. The weird thing was, it was surrounded by a webbing of stringy white fibers - presumably icing or something. But the overall effect was eerie. Where had Liz seen something like that?
It hit her suddenly. Michael - after he had gotten sick in the Indian sweatlodge. Pale pink skin, white fibers covering his body everywhere...
Michael leaned over, faking his solicitous boyfriend mode as he had been all evening. "Ooh, I think my little sweetpea has made her choice." He reached out and put the dish in question in front of Liz on the table. "Eat up."
It was too much. The suggestion of actually *eating* this dish after Liz had made the mental connection was too revolting. "Uhh... uhh -- excuse me," she managed to mutter, and left the table in a hurry, making good time for the ladies' room.
"Uhhh... whoops," Michael muttered lamely. For some reason, all he could think of were the old movies where verybody guesses that the girl is pregnant because she runs out of the room and throws up every time she smells a certain food.
Michael was pretty sure that Liz wasn't *really* pregnant, though he didn't have any clue what was going on. But if the PARKERS got the idea that their darling daughter was knocked up, then Michael was stuck in the prime suspect's seat. Not good. Time for some damage control.
"Umm... I hope that Liz is feeling okay. She mentioned her stomach felt a little queasy this afternoon." Silent pause. "Would you like to try some of the raspberry sherbert, Mrs. Parker? It's incredible.
By the time Liz had gotten her stomach nerves back under control and her dramatic courage at a sufficiently high level, everyone else was ready to leave, and Liz was in no mood to argue. Whittaker left from the restaurant, her parents dropped Michael off outside his apartment, (with a goodbye handshake from Liz that she hoped didn't seem weird or 'obviously hiding too much' to her parents.)
It was after Liz was in bed and asleep that Liz heard her parents talking...
Her dad: "I don't understand what you're so upset about, Nancy."
Her mom: "I've heard Maria talking about Michael - and *to* Michael, when she's on shift. She's crazy about him. And I did *not* bring up Liz to be the kind of girl who steals her best friend's man!!"
* * * *
(October 23 2000.)
Alex walked into West Roswell High the next day on a natural high. Why not? Isabel had agreed that they were on their way 'back', and he'd turned a best friend's night of prospective moping into an incredible experience in dream fufillment.
Maria and Alex had done three numbers in all at the Velvet Room, each to a chorus of applause that beat the average, Alex thought. "Have to try that again..." Alex whispered to himself.
Over at Liz's locker, Liz and Maria were discussing Liz and Michael's dinner loud enough for Alex to overhear as he approached. "Anyways, so Michael decided to order for me, but..."
"He ordered for you?!"
"Well yeah, but you're missing the point. What he actually said to the waiter was..."
"Liz, I don't care. Michael has never even *tried* to order for me!!"
Alex chose this moment to stop eavesdropping and make his entrance. "Sorry to cut off the gab session, lovey ladies, but do you really think this is something you should be talking about in the high school proper?" Alex waved his hand around to demonstrate.
There were a number of other students who had been close enough to hear what Liz and Maria had been saying. Possibly none of them had cared to pay attention or realized anything out of the ordinary about the conversation, but the message was clear.
There was an awkward silence for a few seconds, as Liz finished getting her books out her locker, and then Maria changed the subject. "Liz, you'll never guess what Alex and I did last night!!"
Liz grinned. "No, you're right, I won't, so you'd better tell me."
"He dragged me to an open mike night at a swanky coffeehouse called the Velvet Room. You should!ve heard the way people were chhering when I finished with 'I will take care of you.' They were cheering, right Alex?"
"Truthfully they were," Alex agreed.
"Oh, *wow*!! You guys have *got* to let me come along and watch... er, listen next time," Liz decided.
"On one condition," Alex teased her. "You have to sing a number yourself. No non-performers allowed."
"Now, that's not fair," Liz protested. "I'm not a musician like the two of you are. I'd just embarass us all..."
The negotiations continued on as three old friends made their way to trig class.
* * * *
(October 23 2000.)
Alex's third period course was history, which meant Isabel. She was in that class too, and none of the rest of Alex's friends were... well, unless you counted Tess, which Alex had to admit he usually didn't.
Just seeing Iz put a thrill through Alex's spine as he remembered their afternoon yesterday, and he wished that Mrs. Glenson didn't insist on strict adherence to the seating chart so that he could sit next to her. Unfortunately Alex's seat was in the middle of the right side of the room, while Isabel was one row ahead and two spots to the left of him.
Well, desperate situations called for desperate measures. As Mrs. Glenson droned on about the Reconstruction period, Alex tore a piece of his notebook off. Now, what to write? Feeling a little low on inspiration, he settled for 'Hey, beautiful. Didn't I see you yesterday at the Olde Towne? A.W.' Folding his missive in quarters, Alex palmed it off to Bob Reeger in the seat next to him, hoping that he was showing the correct technique. Passing notes in the middle of class wasn't exactly Alex's scene, but he knew it was too easy to get caught, and Alex really didn't feel like public humiliation today.
Bob took the note very smoothly, without even looking at Alex. *He* obviously have a lot of experience with this. Unfortunately, not looking meant that Bob didn't realize that Alex was discretely pointing over at Isabel. He started to open the note up. Alex swung his foot into Bob's desk leg.
That got his attention; Bob looked over at Alex in shock and finally noticed the pointing. He folded the note up again and passed it forwards, tapping it on Trudy's left elbow and then holding it out while Trudy made a similar no-looking pickup to Bob's own style. From there, the note ended up right in the middle of Isabel's desk, and she opened it up, smiled faintly, looked around to find Alex looking over at her, and grinned quickly at him before going and writing a note of her own.
Isabel tore the note out of her notepaper after she had finished writing it, and passed it back to Trudy behind Trudy's chair. Trudy tossed it across onto the corner of Alex's desk. 'No, I don't think I recognize you. Wish I did, though - you're cute!' A big grinny-face completed the flirtacious note.
Ice broken, mission accomplished. Alex tried a second note on a different tack. 'How was Tex-Mex with Max last night?'
Now... what was the trick here? It seemed that the delivery method encoded instructions for the further routing of the note. But Alex didn't know the code. So, trusting to faith and avoiding Bob because of the prior mixum, Alex leaned forward and tapped Trudy on the shoulder with his new note, hoping that she'd realize to give it back the way she got the one from Isabel. She did, but not before writing a little something on the folded-up front for Isabel.
Iz blushed when she read what Trudy had written, and just laughed a tiny bit when she got to Alex's attempt at written small talk. Back came a new note, from Trudy to Bob. Bob, apparently curious now, tried to open up this note too, but Isabel was watching. Her gorgeous eyes narrowed, and the note flipped back shut again, Bob rubbing his finger as if it had been stung.
This note read 'Is that all you want to ask me, Alex? ;-)' A postscript noted how Alex should pass the note to Brynn Malley, sitting in front of him, so that Brynn would know to pass it across to Isabel. Alex could barely stifle his laugh.
Mrs. Glenson was starting to suspect that something was up now, but Alex couldn't resist following up on Isabel's invitation. Part of what had been so great about the night before with Maria had been acting spontaneous and decisive, so he decided to be spontaneous and decisive with Isabel. 'Meet me in the west foyer after seventh period. We're cutting class.'
Isabel stared back at Alex in surprise once she'd read his words, but she nodded yes.
* * * *
Sure enough, at a quarter to three that afternoon Isabel was waiting for him around the corner from the languages room, just inside the big double doors. "So, we're cutting class, are we?"
Alex smiled broadly, making sure that no teachers or vice-principals were around. "Yup."
"And exactly what are we doing while we're playing hooky?"
Alex smiled. "Well, I was thinking of a little bit of hiking down in the park. That's romantic, right?"
Isabel made a face. "Hiking? I don't go in for hiking much, Alex. Too sweaty. And this shirt is silk, you know."
Alex shook his head, smiling. "It doesn't *have* to be sweaty. It depends on how slow you go."
Isabel grinned at that. "Are you sure you want to be going *slower*, Alex?"
"I'm just talking about walking, Iz."
"Okay, if you're in then I'm in. Let's go." Isabel led the way out of the school to the parking lot where Alex had parked. As she stepped down the stairs outside the doors, Isabel pulled a bit of paper out of her pocket and started towards the trash bin.
"Oh hey, what's that?" Alex asked her.
"Oh, just one of your notes." Isabel showed him the folded paper, and Alex noticed some writing on the outside - it was the one Trudy had jotted down a note on.
"Can I take a look at that?"
"Hmm?" Isabel blushed slightly. "Well, I guess." She handed it to him.
The note from Trudy read 'I don't think your boyfriend knows how to pass notes in class, Isabel.'
* * * *
(It's gonna be October 23 2000 for a while, except when it's October 20 2001, so get used to it! :-D )
Michael heard the knock at his apartment door. "Hang on," he muttered into the phone. "Who is it??" That was called out louder, with the cordless telephone away from his face.
"Who the pod do you think it is, Maria? You told me to come over this afternoon to talk." Obviously Maria.
"Come in," he sighed, and turned his attention back to the phone. "Hey, Max?"
Max's voice came very dimly through the connection. "Just get me anything from the fridge, Liz, I don't really care that much..."
"Is Liz there with you??" Michael called louder into the phone.
"What??" Max's voice cleared up - presumably he was bringing his receiver closer to his own face. "Yeah, she came over with me after school, why?"
"Well..." Michael turned away from the door, where Maria had just let herself in -- looking fine, like she always did. But he didn't want Maria to hear about this yet. "I just... I'm concerned about something. About Liz."
"What??" Max seemed surprised by that. "Did something go wrong last night at the dinner? Liz said everything went fine - or as good as could be expected."
"No, this has nothing to do with that. Or not really. Just... what do you know about Liz's trip to Florida?"
"Huh??? Just that she was visiting an aunt there, why??"
"See if you can find out more. I have a hunch that there might have been a guy in the picture - like the last few weeks before labor day, rebound thing. If so, the situation could be serious."
"What the hell are you talking about, Michael. Why should there have been..."
"Hey, cool lamp," Maria's voice came from out in Michael's living room.
"Hey, don't touch my stuff," Michael called, moving to where he could keep an eye on Maria but she hopefully still couldn't hear what he was saying to Max very well.
"Are you just spewing out wild and crazy theories as per usual, Michael, or do you actually have some solid reason to believe that there's some other guy inv..." Max was saying.
"Aahh!!" Maria screamed. Michael turned to stare at her again. She was holding his blue crystal desk lamp... so much for not touching his stuff. But suddenly he could see why she was screaming. Something was coming out of the lamp - like an energy field, or a vortex.
"What the hell??" he had time to demand out loud, into the phone. And then he wasn't there any more.
"Michael? Michael??" Max's voice called out tinnily from the phone's speaker into the apartment, now empty of any human (or hybrid) beings. "What's happened? What's going on?? Michael?!?"
TO BE CONTINUED.