Disclaimer: Do I look famous in any way that would cause you to believe that I own any of the characters from the show? All the others are mine, and I will fight you with a piece of asparagus for it.

Maximum Security Prison

"Hey Garcia, man, that offer of yours still open. I don't want to stay here for the rest of my life," Daniels said to the skinny Mexican sitting across from him. The Mexican smiled, then looked up from his plate of coagulated mash.

"Okay man, we'll get out of here, like sly men and Alcatraz, we'll get out of here," Garcia grinned, his crooked smile alight with yellow teeth.

Greenhome

Denise sat in her room, placing the purchases from the mall on the bed. Everything was so new for her. The purchases were all new clothes to replace the wardrobe her parents had kept all of these years. Granted, hippie was back in style, but not all the clothes she had. Humongous bellbottoms were not what they used to be. She wasn't so sure about the tiny flares, but anything was better than beige jumpsuits.

She sat on the bed and thought back to quarantine. Maia was still there, though she said she was about to get adopted. For some reason she didn't think she's stay there. She still kept up with Maia, through letters and small phone calls, and she was doing well…for Maia. She loved Maia like a sister, but the child was a little strange.

Her mother called from downstairs. Someone was at the door for her. Which was odd. Because, well, no one was at the door for her on average. Well, not since she had returned. Her mother called her again, wrenching her from her musings.

Denise raced downstairs with the speed of a child, and landed gracefully at the foot of the stairs, her long hair landing on her back.

"Mark?" she gasped. It had to be him, granted, he was quiet a bit older, his hair now tinged with gray and around his eyes were wisps of wrinkles. The high school quarterback she had crushed over was now an old man. Granted, if she wasn't a 4400 she would probably be the same.

"My god, Denise, I just had to see if it was true, that you were one of the returnees. I thought that maybe it was just a rumor. I mean everyone thought you were dead. And that man who was convicted for your murder," he paused, looking at the surprised expression on her face, "Wait, you didn't know?"

"Well, someone told me that everyone thought I was dead, but I didn't think anyone had actually gone to jail for it," she was shocked.

"It's okay, I'm sure they're getting the papers processed right now for his release," he looked at her again, "You haven't aged a day."

"Yeah, I hear that's what happens when you disappear mysteriously and reappear in a ball of light some thirty years later," he laughed at her joke, "so, how have you been?"

"Oh, me, well, I graduated from high school, went to a small law school, and am now among the five attorneys in the Greenhome area. I married a few years back, oh yeah, I married Mickey, you remember her don't you?" Denise grimaced in her head. Mickey was the blonde bimbo from years back who used to throw pencils at the back of her head. It was a real friendship from the start to say the least, "Yeah, we've been married for twenty years, and have four kids."

"Well, that's wonderful," she smiled, though truthfully, she wasn't exactly thrilled. Not that she would pursue the man now, he could be her father.

"Well, I have to go, Mickey and the kids will be waiting. I'll try to stop be soon. Maybe I'll bring the kids by," Mark smiled as he walked out the door, "It's been nice seeing you Denise, we missed you here." The door closed, leaving Denise alone with her thoughts.