The Man Who Didn't Belong (M/M - Mature) Ch 70 - 3/28
Posted: Mon Mar 28, 2011 8:10 am
Eva – They will find the others, no question about that. Now, what will be their reaction to this Michael, that’s the real question.
Timelord31 –
Alien friend –
Mary mary –
Ending 1 – Part 8 (or Part 70)
Santa Fe was all wrong.
Maria bit back a groan when the truck bounced over several sets of railroad tracks, shaking her stiff, sore body. She moved slightly, squinting against the bright sunlight beating down on them. She recognized the buildings surrounding them as the driver maneuvered the truck through the streets of Santa Fe to pull into a gas station.
Michael’s eyes were carefully scanning everything around them, forcing his focus to stay on identifying potential threats. His eyes wanted to wander over the many differences that were glaringly obvious but he needed to secure a safe place for them to stay first… and to do that he had to get his hands on a substantial amount of cash. The currency systems in their universes were similar, but he had left every dime he had when they had gone to the Granolith because he couldn’t risk using it by mistake.
“Hope this’ll get you folks where you need to go,” the driver said as he rested his hand on the cab of the truck. “Once I fuel up and pick up I’ll be headin’ back down south.”
“This is perfect,” Maria said before Michael had a chance to speak. She controlled the urge to smile when the hybrid helped her down from the bed of the truck without even realizing it. “We really appreciate all of your help.”
After leaving their ride they set off into the heart of the city and Maria wasn’t sure she wanted to know what he was looking for as his gaze swung back and forth. Whatever it was she knew the moment he had found it because she could see his demeanor shift from searching to planning.
“C’mon, let’s grab somethin’ to eat,” he said as he reached around her to pull the door of a small diner open.
“But, we don’t have enough – “
“We will.”
His tone left no room for argument but the fact that he couldn’t yet manipulate currency the way the others could suggested that he would obtain the money in an illegal manner. They took a seat near the window facing the street and ordered a couple of the lunch specials and while they were waiting for their meals Maria turned her head to follow his gaze.
“What’re you thinking about doing?” she asked when she realized they were sitting across from a bank.
“Nothin’ like what you think I’m thinkin’ about doin’,” he said, shaking his head at her.
They fell silent when the waitress returned with their plates and his gaze continued to watch the bank’s patrons as they entered and exited, passing between the large building and the parking garage next to it. He nodded to himself after a while and he pulled a ball cap and something small that she couldn’t identify out of his bag, shoving the items in his back pocket as he stood.
“I’ll be right back.”
He was only gone for a matter of minutes, returning to their booth and picking up his fork to cut into the chicken fried steak that was still warm. The man had never suspected that the stranger he had bumped into had lifted his wallet and Michael had quickly removed the wad of cash from the billfold and ditched the rest.
Maria’s eyes widened when he checked the receipt and threw a twenty down to cover their tab. “Michael, what’d you…”
“We’ll talk about it at the hotel.”
The hotel he had chosen wasn’t anything to write home about but at least it was clean and the beds were comfortable. It was near the outskirts of the city, away from the busier areas and she could only assume he had chosen the location because it would allow them to get out of the city faster if the need arose.
“Alright, let’s talk about this communication thing you use to let your friends know you’re here,” he said as he sat down on the bed across from the one she was sitting on.
“First let’s talk about where you got that money,” Maria said, glancing meaningfully at the pile of bills lying on the table under his wallet.
He shrugged, unconcerned with his method of procurement. “People with money should be more careful.”
“You just stole it?”
“Well, the guy wasn’t just handin’ it out. He probably hasn’t even realized it’s missin’ yet. I tossed the wallet. Someone’ll find it and be stupid enough to use the credit cards and the police will think that person stole the cash too.”
“But your fingerprints…”
“Won’t be on it.” He leaned over and pulled a small jar out of a side pocket on his duffel bag and tossed it to her. “It’s a compound you rub on your hands and it basically adheres to your skin creating a perfectly smooth surface that leaves no prints. Fills the grooves in your soft tissue so that anything you touch is left print-free.”
“Let’s go back to the part where you stole some man’s money,” Maria said as she leaned forward to hand the jar back to him.
“It’s no different than the others changing the value of the currency… either way it’s technically stealing. And don’t give me any shit about how it’s not the same. That’s just semantics.”
Technically he was right and there was no point in getting into an argument over it. Maria sighed and lay back on the bed, resting against the pillows and staring up at the ceiling. “We just need to place an ad in a national newspaper. They know to look for it.”
“You’ve been gone for more than six months. What makes you think they’re still waitin’ for some ad to show up?”
“They’re waiting,” was all she said.
“Fine,” he grunted as he stood and grabbed his duffel bag. He carried it over to the table and dropped it on the pitted surface before stretching. “What’s the ad need to say?”
Maria motioned tiredly to a piece of paper lying on the nightstand and he crossed the room once more to pick it up. “Madame Vivian knows the answer. Call 1-800-252-9866.” He snorted and looked at her. “A fortune teller? That’s your communication gimmick?”
“She wasn’t a fortune teller, she was a psychic.”
“And the number? Using the same number as a means of communicating is gonna get you caught.”
“It’s not always the same number. It varies depending on which of us sends the message and where we are at the time. The last seven digits spell out Clayton… it’s the name of the town where Michael and I were living.”
“Uh-huh, and how long do you suggest we wait here?”
“We don’t need to wait here. They’ll go there. Actually, I’m pretty sure Max and Liz are already there.”
“Why would they be there already?” he asked, not sure he understood how this thing was supposed to work. “We haven’t even placed the ad yet.”
“Liz is my best friend, Michael. She would’ve done everything possible to hold onto the house because she knew I’d be back.”
He shook his head. “How have you people managed to survive?” he muttered. “You can’t let yourselves be ruled by your emotions.”
“And if being on the run is going to turn us into soulless automatons what’s the point?” she threw back at him.
“Do you think the people after you care how much your emotions have impacted your decisions? It’s a weakness and they can use it against you.”
“I don’t want to argue about this with you. I’m tired and neither of us is going to change our minds tonight.”
He sighed and let the subject drop. For now. They would come back to it because what they were doing was foolish and one day it was going to get one or more of them captured and killed. They had been lucky so far, that’s all it was. They should’ve gotten as far away from New Mexico as possible and instead they had settled down less than a day away from Roswell. He would give them credit for at least separating and putting some distance between each other, but they were doing too many things that put them at risk.
He turned to look at her, placing his right hand on the table as he let it support some of his weight. She was exhausted. He could see it in her features, in the lines of her body, and it was obvious by the way she had refused to argue with him. He glanced at his watch, noting the early evening hour. The sun hadn’t quite set yet and he moved to pull the curtains over the tightly-closed blinds to shut out what little light was streaming in. He checked the locks on the door once more and just as an added precaution grabbed one of the chairs from under the table and wedged it up under the knob.
He grabbed the neck of his shirt and pulled it over his head, wadding it up and tossing it across the room to land on the table next to his bag. He settled into his bed and stared up at the ceiling as he listened to Maria’s even breathing. He couldn’t believe they would put themselves at risk just to hold onto the hope that she might be coming back. It was stupid and risky… leave it to a bunch of kids to rely on luck to evade a unit trained to hunt them down.
They were just kids, he realized. Well, maybe not kids, but not much more than that. Not a single one of them was legally able to drink yet they had managed to avoid capture by a specially trained government unit. He snorted to himself as he shifted onto his side to watch Maria as she slept. She had a lot of faith in these people; she trusted them and her belief in them was absolute. There was no question in her mind that when they reached Clayton, New Mexico, her friends would be there waiting for her to return.
They couldn’t stay there and he hoped she would understand when he told her that. They couldn’t just explain away their sudden return and expect to go back to whatever menial jobs they had held down before the accident. There would be questions and that was one thing they did not want. They needed to avoid anything that might draw attention to them.
He got up and moved to her bed when her movements began to get restless and he settled down next to her, breathing easier when she moved into his arms and rested against him. She sighed contentedly and her right arm came around his waist as she pressed her cheek to his chest. It was as close as he had allowed himself to get to her since the night they had made love, but some nights being apart from her made his existence intolerable and he had no choice but to seek her out. He was always careful to be up and out of her room before she awoke because he knew it wouldn’t take much for them to give in to temptation and he wasn’t ready to risk another morning like the one that had followed that night.
Timelord31 –
Max, Isabel, Kyle and Liz, you mean? Oh, they are still in the States, and don’t worry, they have ways to contact each other, when split up. Sure, there’s Isabel but if Isabel is not “available”, they need other means of contact. Which they have.wondering where the rest of the team is?
Alien friend –
Exactly and since the Granolith is partly sentient, why couldn’t it have a different personality, kind of like Michael I and II, the same but not the same?I wonder how much time has past in this universe. I didn't even think about that, the Granolith having different temperaments in different universes. But I guess it's same for everything else why not the Granolith.
Mary mary –
God, huh? Who know who or what is behind the Granolith, pulling the string. It’s up to the readers. We won’t impose a theory, we let that part of the story very open, because let’s face it, it could go toward God, gods, angels, aliens, entities living on a different plane… we leave that choice to the readers.Unless of course God has other plans ?
Ending 1 – Part 8 (or Part 70)
Santa Fe was all wrong.
Maria bit back a groan when the truck bounced over several sets of railroad tracks, shaking her stiff, sore body. She moved slightly, squinting against the bright sunlight beating down on them. She recognized the buildings surrounding them as the driver maneuvered the truck through the streets of Santa Fe to pull into a gas station.
Michael’s eyes were carefully scanning everything around them, forcing his focus to stay on identifying potential threats. His eyes wanted to wander over the many differences that were glaringly obvious but he needed to secure a safe place for them to stay first… and to do that he had to get his hands on a substantial amount of cash. The currency systems in their universes were similar, but he had left every dime he had when they had gone to the Granolith because he couldn’t risk using it by mistake.
“Hope this’ll get you folks where you need to go,” the driver said as he rested his hand on the cab of the truck. “Once I fuel up and pick up I’ll be headin’ back down south.”
“This is perfect,” Maria said before Michael had a chance to speak. She controlled the urge to smile when the hybrid helped her down from the bed of the truck without even realizing it. “We really appreciate all of your help.”
After leaving their ride they set off into the heart of the city and Maria wasn’t sure she wanted to know what he was looking for as his gaze swung back and forth. Whatever it was she knew the moment he had found it because she could see his demeanor shift from searching to planning.
“C’mon, let’s grab somethin’ to eat,” he said as he reached around her to pull the door of a small diner open.
“But, we don’t have enough – “
“We will.”
His tone left no room for argument but the fact that he couldn’t yet manipulate currency the way the others could suggested that he would obtain the money in an illegal manner. They took a seat near the window facing the street and ordered a couple of the lunch specials and while they were waiting for their meals Maria turned her head to follow his gaze.
“What’re you thinking about doing?” she asked when she realized they were sitting across from a bank.
“Nothin’ like what you think I’m thinkin’ about doin’,” he said, shaking his head at her.
They fell silent when the waitress returned with their plates and his gaze continued to watch the bank’s patrons as they entered and exited, passing between the large building and the parking garage next to it. He nodded to himself after a while and he pulled a ball cap and something small that she couldn’t identify out of his bag, shoving the items in his back pocket as he stood.
“I’ll be right back.”
He was only gone for a matter of minutes, returning to their booth and picking up his fork to cut into the chicken fried steak that was still warm. The man had never suspected that the stranger he had bumped into had lifted his wallet and Michael had quickly removed the wad of cash from the billfold and ditched the rest.
Maria’s eyes widened when he checked the receipt and threw a twenty down to cover their tab. “Michael, what’d you…”
“We’ll talk about it at the hotel.”
The hotel he had chosen wasn’t anything to write home about but at least it was clean and the beds were comfortable. It was near the outskirts of the city, away from the busier areas and she could only assume he had chosen the location because it would allow them to get out of the city faster if the need arose.
“Alright, let’s talk about this communication thing you use to let your friends know you’re here,” he said as he sat down on the bed across from the one she was sitting on.
“First let’s talk about where you got that money,” Maria said, glancing meaningfully at the pile of bills lying on the table under his wallet.
He shrugged, unconcerned with his method of procurement. “People with money should be more careful.”
“You just stole it?”
“Well, the guy wasn’t just handin’ it out. He probably hasn’t even realized it’s missin’ yet. I tossed the wallet. Someone’ll find it and be stupid enough to use the credit cards and the police will think that person stole the cash too.”
“But your fingerprints…”
“Won’t be on it.” He leaned over and pulled a small jar out of a side pocket on his duffel bag and tossed it to her. “It’s a compound you rub on your hands and it basically adheres to your skin creating a perfectly smooth surface that leaves no prints. Fills the grooves in your soft tissue so that anything you touch is left print-free.”
“Let’s go back to the part where you stole some man’s money,” Maria said as she leaned forward to hand the jar back to him.
“It’s no different than the others changing the value of the currency… either way it’s technically stealing. And don’t give me any shit about how it’s not the same. That’s just semantics.”
Technically he was right and there was no point in getting into an argument over it. Maria sighed and lay back on the bed, resting against the pillows and staring up at the ceiling. “We just need to place an ad in a national newspaper. They know to look for it.”
“You’ve been gone for more than six months. What makes you think they’re still waitin’ for some ad to show up?”
“They’re waiting,” was all she said.
“Fine,” he grunted as he stood and grabbed his duffel bag. He carried it over to the table and dropped it on the pitted surface before stretching. “What’s the ad need to say?”
Maria motioned tiredly to a piece of paper lying on the nightstand and he crossed the room once more to pick it up. “Madame Vivian knows the answer. Call 1-800-252-9866.” He snorted and looked at her. “A fortune teller? That’s your communication gimmick?”
“She wasn’t a fortune teller, she was a psychic.”
“And the number? Using the same number as a means of communicating is gonna get you caught.”
“It’s not always the same number. It varies depending on which of us sends the message and where we are at the time. The last seven digits spell out Clayton… it’s the name of the town where Michael and I were living.”
“Uh-huh, and how long do you suggest we wait here?”
“We don’t need to wait here. They’ll go there. Actually, I’m pretty sure Max and Liz are already there.”
“Why would they be there already?” he asked, not sure he understood how this thing was supposed to work. “We haven’t even placed the ad yet.”
“Liz is my best friend, Michael. She would’ve done everything possible to hold onto the house because she knew I’d be back.”
He shook his head. “How have you people managed to survive?” he muttered. “You can’t let yourselves be ruled by your emotions.”
“And if being on the run is going to turn us into soulless automatons what’s the point?” she threw back at him.
“Do you think the people after you care how much your emotions have impacted your decisions? It’s a weakness and they can use it against you.”
“I don’t want to argue about this with you. I’m tired and neither of us is going to change our minds tonight.”
He sighed and let the subject drop. For now. They would come back to it because what they were doing was foolish and one day it was going to get one or more of them captured and killed. They had been lucky so far, that’s all it was. They should’ve gotten as far away from New Mexico as possible and instead they had settled down less than a day away from Roswell. He would give them credit for at least separating and putting some distance between each other, but they were doing too many things that put them at risk.
He turned to look at her, placing his right hand on the table as he let it support some of his weight. She was exhausted. He could see it in her features, in the lines of her body, and it was obvious by the way she had refused to argue with him. He glanced at his watch, noting the early evening hour. The sun hadn’t quite set yet and he moved to pull the curtains over the tightly-closed blinds to shut out what little light was streaming in. He checked the locks on the door once more and just as an added precaution grabbed one of the chairs from under the table and wedged it up under the knob.
He grabbed the neck of his shirt and pulled it over his head, wadding it up and tossing it across the room to land on the table next to his bag. He settled into his bed and stared up at the ceiling as he listened to Maria’s even breathing. He couldn’t believe they would put themselves at risk just to hold onto the hope that she might be coming back. It was stupid and risky… leave it to a bunch of kids to rely on luck to evade a unit trained to hunt them down.
They were just kids, he realized. Well, maybe not kids, but not much more than that. Not a single one of them was legally able to drink yet they had managed to avoid capture by a specially trained government unit. He snorted to himself as he shifted onto his side to watch Maria as she slept. She had a lot of faith in these people; she trusted them and her belief in them was absolute. There was no question in her mind that when they reached Clayton, New Mexico, her friends would be there waiting for her to return.
They couldn’t stay there and he hoped she would understand when he told her that. They couldn’t just explain away their sudden return and expect to go back to whatever menial jobs they had held down before the accident. There would be questions and that was one thing they did not want. They needed to avoid anything that might draw attention to them.
He got up and moved to her bed when her movements began to get restless and he settled down next to her, breathing easier when she moved into his arms and rested against him. She sighed contentedly and her right arm came around his waist as she pressed her cheek to his chest. It was as close as he had allowed himself to get to her since the night they had made love, but some nights being apart from her made his existence intolerable and he had no choice but to seek her out. He was always careful to be up and out of her room before she awoke because he knew it wouldn’t take much for them to give in to temptation and he wasn’t ready to risk another morning like the one that had followed that night.