Between the Lines – Chapter 8
Disclaimer – Team Katims, Metz, and WB own Roswell and the Team Cameron, Eglee, and Fox own Dark Angel. Get it, got it, good.
Ms. Topolsky lingered in the band room for some fifteen more minutes, impatiently tapping her expensively attired high heeled foot, as if waiting for someone.
'That someone who was probably me,' Liz thought as she cocked her head to listen better, patiently waiting. She had settled down some time ago, content to just watch and plan, and observe her opponent.
Topolsky was an attractive woman, young, probably between twenty-seven and early thirties, her soft blond hair usually coifed in some elegant bun or twist. She had high cheekbones and a small, thin mouth that still managed to be attractive, though Liz wouldn't know since she didn't swing that way. Had to be, judging from the men and boys at the school, though that could also be in part to the well-kept figure beneath the professionally tailored clothing. She probably did yoga or Tai Chi on a regular basis.
She had come into Roswell and, consequently, Max, hers, and the others lives not too long after the shootout at the Crashdown and her interrogation by Sheriff Valenti. She scowled as she realized her uniform was still missing, having no idea where he'd gotten it, though she suspected a certain oil sniffing pixied best friend might have had a hand in it. She worried that they might run a D.N.A. scan and find out that she wasn't human and realized what that meant. Or, they might find some of Max's D.N.A. and deduce he wasn't human either and that was bad for a whole other set of problems. Either way it was not good all the way around, and Topolsky was a natural, even fitting scapegoat for her frustrations.
'Businesslike' seemed an accurate word to describe Ms. Topolsky. Her voice did seem to get on Liz's nerves, that kind of soft, babyish voice that still managed to be high. Liz had deemed it the Slow Slut Tone, having seen it used by women who thought it made them seem cute and gullible and therefore more appealing to the men they sought to snare. It appealed to that rugged, manly urge to protect and/or deflower the lovely innocent and disgusted her that men would fall for such an obvious ploy and women so desperate to use it. It disgusted her even further that it seemed to work most of the time, and really disgusted her that she'd had several occasions to utilize it.
Mostly, to Liz's way of thinking, most girls spent their entire life dreaming of being older and alluring enough when they were younger to attract a guy. But when they hit that consenting age they tried to go back in time to that childish way of speaking and thinking. That just didn't make any sense and irritated her to no end when she met them. The fact that half the time she spent as 'Liz' the sweet naïve nerd was completely different and had nothing to do with her reasons for disliking that whole thing.
'At least I don't sound so…breathy and stupid,' Liz grimaced.
She was a bit startled when she realized that her intense dislike of the beautiful spy was not because she was a government operative and possible exposure risk, but because of her almost blatant interest in Max, Isabel, and Michael. She was surprised at her own vehement protectiveness when it came to the Roswell aliens, perhaps most especially that attention to a certain dark haired alien with soulful eyes. She didn't want Max hurt, and by extension, his sister and best friend. So she was willing to do whatever it took to make sure they stayed safe.
Topolsky's sigh of frustration brought her entire attention back to her mark and Liz found herself amused when Topolsky gave a completely unprofessional and childish stomp of her foot as stormed out into the hall. She was holding back her chuckles as she rose off the cold aluminum and started to track the pseudo guidance counselor through the ceiling catwalks of the school.
Target is prone to extreme impatience and other emotion while operating in the field, especially given an information gathering situation requiring concealment and observation of intended mark. Conclusion: not the best choice for undercover work.
Liz allowed her soldier mind to analyze her mental notes and create scenarios in which to exploit this new knowledge of Topolsky's weaknesses. Judging from the direction Topolsky was striding toward in a fast clip, she deduced the agent was headed toward her office.
'I can be there faster,' Liz smirked, an expression more at home as Vada than her alter ego.
Turning left at a junction she bypassed what would have been three halls and numerous hallways, classrooms, offices, and lounges to get to where she wanted. She had a straight line to her intended destination. She worked the grate on the ventilation shaft as quietly as she could, pausing only for a heartbeat to double check what she already knew: the eraser room was empty.
Dropping down silently, she stayed in her crouch, eyes and ears and nose on alert. Now it wouldn't do to get careless and get caught by the janitor eh? A few heartbeats later she flicked the lock on the door, smiling softly as she took a glance around at her surroundings, memories and snippets of conversation coming back to her. Maria freaking out when Max had sent her the note to meet him here, helping Max spy on Topolsky but having a little Q & A session in which she'd subtly grilled him about his, Isabel, and Michael's otherworldly origins.
The eraser room was an infamous spot at Roswell High. Many a boy and girl and various other pairings had lost their innocence here, or given in to some major make out and smoochie time, or simply just passing the time while escaping a class or a certain someone. Here was where she'd first kissed Kyle, her now ex-boyfriend, on the whim of the last vestiges of her heat induced hormones. She'd genuinely liked Kyle, which is why she'd stayed with him after that little fiasco, not wanting to hurt his feelings.
'And I still hurt him anyway,' she winced, recalling the hurt look in his eyes of the past few weeks as she pulled away from him, catalyzing with her surrogate grandmother's death just a few short days ago and his insensitive comments.
Of course she'd been defending Max at the time, but still, she could have stopped the whole dealio before it had turned into something more for him than just a school fling.
The now familiar staccato stride pricked her conscious and she crouched once more, taking up position by the grate peering directly into the counselor's office. Liz idly wondered if any of the previous or current counselors had ever known how close they were to a hallowed smooching ground where teens through the years had experienced their own little dramas and emotional upheavals.
The door opened with a little more force than necessary and Liz noted that the older woman's apparent 'failure' was grating on her mercilessly. Face pinched and eyes flashing dangerously, Topolsky stalked into her office and sat down in her chair with a grunted oomph! She scowled at the open door for a moment before rising and shutting the door firmly.
Liz's eyes took in the office and could have rolled her eyes at such a lame cover. The entire office screamed sterile and impersonal, not he sort of thing you'd expect from a counselor, and that alone would have tipped anyone with brains off. It was Spartan, no wall hangings or diplomas, no photographs or paintings, her desk was the cleanest she'd ever seen at a school. No files or folders or other paperwork littered her desk, a generic wooden paperweight and an enormous desk calendar competed with the landline phone as the single occupants on the worn, lacquered surface.
Lack of memorabilia of any kind. Room is Spartan and almost completely unused. Typical cover for an operative but tactically unsound in garnering a 'normal' feel in order to blend in to achieve maximum operating results. Rookie mistakes. Target either ill prepared and poorly trained or the operation was set up too fast for all the details to be polished.
The only 'real' things about the room were the briefcase and leather satchel apparently containing her important files and laptop set up by a corner bookcase, a cell phone charger plugged into the wall.
Side targets acquired.
Liz slowed her breathing down to almost non existent, avidly watching as the blond woman pulled her briefcase and satchel in reaching distance, setting up her laptop on the desk and retrieving a sleek black flip-phone from the depths of the briefcase.
'Government issue,' Liz noted, eyes telescoping as she tried to catch sight of what else was in the briefcase as the computer was booting up.
File folders, at least four or more of them. She shifted her position and tilted her head for a better angle and zoomed in once more. Her blood chilled as she barely made out the black scratching on the front reading Evans, M. and another Evans, I. She didn't have to guess who the others belonged to. Judging from the amount of time spent trying to be buddy-buddy and who Topolsky seemed to focus on, she could theorize with almost certain accuracy that Maria, Kyle, Alex, and her own were the subject in those other files.
'This is not good,' Liz frowned, her brows furrowing as she contemplated this new data.
Grimly she watched the agent's hands as she typed in her password to log on and this time she did roll her eyes and barely manage to hold back a snort of derision. Okay, who in their right mind has ROSWELLALIENSA51 for their password?
The little black phone sitting neatly and primly to one side of the computer started to ring and Topolsky didn't look happy at the interruption, though she seemed to be expecting it.
"Topolsky," she baby purred into the phone and Liz wrinkled her nose, lip curling up in disdain.
Report, Agent, the voice on the other end barked, and Liz quieted further, wracking her brain to see if she recognized this voice.
"Agent Pierce, the sting was unsuccessful. The target Parker slipped away and observation opportunity nullified."
Liz had to hand it to her, Topolsky didn't back down though her voice wavered slightly. She had tagged Topolsky as a perfectionist and was willing to wager big money that her boss was just as anal and would be extremely pissed with his agent's results so far.
I'm not wasting valuable time, money, and resources for you to go after Parker! The voice thundered, and one of Liz's brows arched skyward, even as Topolsky seemed to try to recoup her loss.
I want you to find those aliens! Not go after some brat who probably was nothing more than in the wrong place at the wrong time!
Okay, now that one was uncalled for, Liz bared her teeth in a silent snarl, bristling along with the chastised agent whose color was beginning to rise.
"Sir, with all do respect, sir…Liz Parker is one of the only leads we have. There has to be some connection between her and the Evans boy, it's common knowledge around campus that the boy is in love with her. If we just keep an eye on her a little longer…"
We'll be old and gray and they'll have gotten away!
'And I thought Lydecker had issues,' Liz shook her head at Agent Pierce's bad poetry.
At least he would not have criticized us in this manner. He would have just looked at you coldly, not saying a word until you'd finished, and then say he was disappointed in you, which was worse than any punishment ever concocted. Then he'd pull you off and ship you out to be dealt with, all the while shaking his head, and dismissing your incompetence. This Pierce has to be a short, balding man with a mustache and an agenda.
Liz listened in for a few moments longer as Topolsky took a verbal beating from the obvious agent in charge, and her breath nearly hitched as he went on about a possible information leak in addition to her inability to produce the desired results.
Agent Colby was found murdered in an unused conference room of the FBI building two days ago, Agent Topolsky, and there is a report from the Parker girl's blood work missing from my desk. That means we have a Code Alpha Red, and you're to get your ass in gear and get me something concrete, instead of playing Baby Sitters Club. There's no telling who has that information, or if they're from a foreign power. Do you know what that could mean for this country, Agent Topolsky? Do you? Do you realize that your incompetence could destroy us, Agent?
"No, sir," Topolsky managed to choke out, on the verge of tears, but fighting them back valiantly. Liz couldn't blame her even as her mind was going over all the implications of these startling revelations.
So there, that was it. Liz had all the answers she needed, and she didn't like them at all. She didn't wait around for the rest of Topolsky's dressing down, she lightly mounted a metal shelf and boosted herself into the ceiling vent, securing it behind her. She had to get to Max and tell him of this latest development.
A/n: So, what do you think? Jareth hopes you all like it and review! What will happen next? Will Liz/Vada get to tell Max and the Pod Squad in time…who are the strange bikers on 285South?
