Roswell Fanatics

That red dress of Isabel's........it always seemed a little out of place to me.
Vanessa kidnapped the wrong royal.......

Have a wonderful trip to NZ and enjoy your son.
Thanks,
Carolyn

Hi, everyone! I'm back from the other side of the world. We had a wonderful time with our son, and I'm almost over the jet lag. Time to get back to writing!







CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR




September 17, 2000, 6:45 p.m.

Crashdown Cafe






"This will be fun!" Anthony exclaimed as he pulled the car into a parking spot. "Just what the doctor ordered."

"Aren't you just the eager beaver," Dee said. "Anyone would think it was your birthday instead of Isabel's."

"Doesn't matter whose it is," Anthony said. "We all need a pick-me-up, and this fits the bill. Hand me the present."

"Afraid I'll open it on the way in?" Dee asked dryly.

"No, I'm afraid you'll infect it with you pessimism," Anthony said. "No gloom tonight. That's an order. We shouldn't ruin this for Isabel."

"Of course I won't ruin it for Isabel," Dee said. "But it's a little hard to not be pessimistic after we buried Jaddo today, in a manner of speaking, and Brivari popped his cork about the treaty."

"It was the first he'd heard of it," Anthony reminded her. "Give him time."

"Vanessa doesn't have time. We may as well order the funeral flowers now."

"He didn't say he was going to kill her," Anthony noted.

"He didn't say anything at all," Dee replied. "I asked him what he was going to do about her, and he just walked away."

"Which means we don't know what he has in mind, so why second guess? Now, hand me the present."

" 'We don't know what he has in mind'?" Dee repeated incredulously. "Like hell we don't!"

"Not officially," Anthony argued. "And besides, it's technically none of our business. Yes, I know this concerns our grandchildren, but they're not toddlers—they're old enough to speak for themselves when the time comes. And sometimes I think we insert ourselves far too much into these affairs when we really should just stand back and let the chips fall where they may."

"So you're just going to pretend everything's hunky dory?" Dee demanded.

"For the length of time it takes to throw a party, you bet," Anthony declared. "Trust me, the mess will still be there when the party's over. We're all running on fumes these days. Let's take a break, shall we? Fill up the old gas tank with some birthday cake?"

"So that's what you're after," Dee said in disgust. "Cake! I should've known."

"You don't bake much any more," Anthony said.

"I never baked much anyway," Dee retorted.

"All the more reason to enjoy cake where I can find it. Come on."

Dee shook her head as Anthony climbed out, hefting Isabel's large, gaily wrapped present like it was a shield. Maybe it is, she admitted. After all, that was the whole point of this somewhat early party, wasn't it? The official line from Diane was that Max was looking for something to cheer up his sister, although Diane didn't know how dire the circumstances which required cheering. It was a worthy goal, and one she didn't want to impede.

"Promise me you won't be a party pooper," Anthony warned as she climbed out of the car.

"I promise," Dee said. "You're right—-why not just ignore the approaching thundercloud? It's not like we can do anything about it anyway."

"That sounds suspiciously party-pooperish," Anthony said doubtfully.

"Not at all," Dee said. "The kids deserve a break. Party hearty!"

Anthony gazed at her suspiciously before apparently deciding to take her word for it, at least for the moment. Giant gift in tow, they approached the back door of the Crashdown as ordered, lest anything tip Isabel off to the presence of a crowd, and knocked the requested four times. "I feel like I'm in a spy movie," Anthony said gleefully as Dee rolled her eyes. At least someone was having fun.

The door cracked open, then opened further. "Hi," Liz Parker said. "You must be here for the party."

"What gave it away?" Dee asked innocently. "The four knocks, or the present the size of North Dakota?"

"We're Isabel's grandparents," Anthony explained when Liz looked at a loss for words. "Don't mind her. She's contrary."

"Oh, I...no, that's not why...I mean, come in!" Liz said, flustered. "You just kind of reminded me of my grandmother for a moment. She died a while ago. My Dad used to say she was contrary too."

"All grandmothers are contrary," Dee noted. "When you get to our age, you can get away with it."

"Dad says Grandma Claudia was contrary pretty much all her life," Liz observed.

"So is this one," Anthony said as Dee scowled at him. "That age business is just a convenient excuse. Where do the gifts go?"

"In here," Liz said. "I'll take it."

They followed her inside, stopping near a closed door from which boomed loud music just as Diane appeared from the cafe. "Mom! Dad! I'm so glad you could make it on such short notice."

"Yes, well, we set aside our busy social calendar just for this party," Dee said.

"She's kidding," Anthony translated when Diane looked blank. "We're delighted to be here."

"God knows Philip would love to be," Diane said ruefully, "but I couldn't get Max to wait even a week or two. He kept saying Isabel needed a break, something fun to do, and she needed it right now."

"I'm sure she does," Dee agreed. "I mean, I'm sure Max knows what he's talking about," she amended when Diane gave her a puzzled look. "He usually does."

"Well, darned if he ever tells me," Diane sighed. "Sometimes I think I have no idea what goes on in my own children's lives. Gracious, what is that noise?" she added as shouts sounded over the loud music. "I hope that's not what we're playing at the party."

Liz, who had been suitably poker-faced at the suggestion that Diane didn't know what her kids were doing, suddenly looked alarmed. "Could you take their gift?" she asked Diane. "I have to get to the office."

"You're not staying for the party?" Diane asked.

"I'm coming back," Liz assured her. "I just have a few things to finish up."

"The Congresswoman must be so pleased to have such a good worker," Diane smiled. "I'll go put this with the other gifts." She walked away, casting a baleful glance at the closed door, which opened as soon as she disappeared into the cafe.

"I don't know if I can go this far," a doubtful male voice said. "Maybe just the shirt."

"You should totally go that far!" a female voice answered. "Isabel will love it! And you've got the moves down beautifully—just twirl your shirt a few more times before you throw it, maybe wiggle your hips a little more before…"

The voice trailed off as Alex Whitman and Maria DeLuca appeared in the doorway, the latter holding a pile of clothes; both goggled at Dee and Anthony, who were watching them with amusement. "Uh...these are Isabel's grandparents," Liz said awkwardly.

"Hello Maria, hello Alex," Dee said, looking him up and down with a wide smile. "Love the color. It suits you."

"Matches his face," Anthony murmured.

"Here," Maria said, handing the clothes to a crimson Alex as Dee planted an elbow in Anthony's ribs. "Alex? Alex! Go get dressed."

Alex nodded slowly, half turning, then thinking better of it in favor of backing up. "Okay," Maria said after he'd left, "I know what this looks like, but it's not what you think."

"Isn't it?" Dee said. "Because it looks like a young woman's birthday party."

"It was a surprise for Isabel," Liz chimed in.

"And I'm quite certain she'll be surprised," Anthony agreed. "I'm quite certain a lot of people will be."

"Please don't tell her mom," Maria begged. "Max was afraid she'd freak, so we kept this real quiet."

"She would," Dee agreed, "so you were smart to keep it to yourself. Besides, it's really none of her business. This is Isabel's party, not hers."

"Okay, it's official," Maria announced. "Grandmothers are the coolest thing out there." Her eyes widened as Liz's suddenly glistened. "Oh, God, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to...geez, Liz, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Liz said, with a quick swipe at her eyes. "I should to get to work. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"God, I feel like such an idiot!" Maria exclaimed after the back door had closed behind her friend. "Why did I say that?"

"Nonsense," Dee said briskly. "It's not your fault her grandmother died, and you can't walk on eggshells all the time. Go find Alex, dear, and make sure he's still breathing. He looked a little green around the gills."

Maria departed, still muttering, as Anthony gave a long, low whistle. "I can't wait to see Diane's face! What do you call that thing he was almost wearing? It was too small to be a Speedo."

"A thong," Dee answered. "And no, you can't have one."

"Don't want one," Anthony said. "It looked painful. Was it supposed to go all the way up between his—"

"Oh, good. You're here."

It was Courtney, taut as a bowstring. "Yes, they're designed that way," Dee said, answering her husband's question.

"We called that a 'wedgie'," Anthony noted. "And we tried to avoid them."

"Times change," Dee counseled.

"What are you two on about?" Courtney demanded.

"Alex's thong," Dee said. "My husband is aghast."

"Only because it looked painful," Anthony objected.

"Alex is doing a striptease for Isabel's party," Courtney said impatiently. "Never mind that. We have to—"

"A striptease?" Anthony said. "Really?"

"Yes, a striptease," Dee said patiently. "What else would he be doing with tiny underwear and Maria coaching him to swing his shirt around and wiggle his hips?"

"Yikes," Anthony murmured.

"Hey!" Courtney admonished. "Over here! Focus! We have a problem!"

"Of course we do," Dee sighed. "Brivari's back. I'll tell you all about it later. We're taking tonight off from alien intrigue to enjoy—"

"Like hell you are," Courtney interrupted. "Wait till you hear what Vanessa did."





*********************************************************





Music pounded as Alex gyrated in the midst of an appreciative audience which wasn't shy about expressing that appreciation. Max grinned as his sister laughed, Michael and Kyle watched with equal amounts of astonishment and envy, and the crowd went wild, erupting in a burst of joy so strong, it was almost palpable. Maria was gyrating along with Alex like a nervous teacher concerned about her student, but she needn't have worried; despite the misgivings she'd mentioned earlier, Alex appeared to be having a ball. We needed this, Max thought. They all needed this, something fun, something crazy, but good-crazy, not alien-crazy. It was something of a miracle that he'd managed to pull this party together in just a few days, securing the Crashdown, the guests, and even the night's entertainment, currently in progress and going over like gangbusters. Liz had helped enthusiastically, making him wish he could have dragged the process out a lot longer, and even Michael had chipped in despite his still being sullen over the whole Brody thing. Too bad, Max thought. Michael and Isabel had been wrong while he had been right. His handling of the situation proved that he was the rightful leader, and the fact that he'd managed to assemble this party on such short notice only drove that point home further. He was riding high, and the only thing keeping him from riding higher was his sister, who had appeared at the Crashdown at the appointed hour dressed to kill...but not for a party.

"Oh, my God, he's gonna do it!" Maria squealed as Alex ripped his shirt off. "He's gonna take'em off!"

"Wasn't he supposed to?" Max asked.

"Well, yeah, but I wasn't sure," Maria answered. "Sometimes he wouldn't even strip down to the thong when we were practicing so I didn't think...uh oh."

Alex's dance came to an abrupt halt as he found himself face to face with Max's mom. "Hi, Mrs. Evans," he said weakly. "Great party."

Everyone's eyes were elsewhere as Diane Evans surveyed the scene in the classic disapproving-mother-with-hands-on-hips mode and Alex fled. "Did you know about this, Max?" Diane demanded.

"I just heard that someone had a surprise for Isabel," Max said.

"I'm surprised!" Isabel grinned.

"Well, so am I," Diane said primly. "What would your father say? This is no way to celebrate a young lady's—Mom, you tell them," Diane said as Grandma Dee and Grandpa Anthony appeared behind her. "Tell them that's no way to celebrate a young lady's birthday."

"I thought it was spectacular," Grandma Dee said.

"Oh, of course you did," Diane muttered.

"Being a 'lady' is so tiresome," Grandma Dee went on. "I'm so glad I never bothered."

"Mom!" Diane admonished as Isabel burst out laughing. "What kind of a role model are you being?"

"A realistic one," Grandpa offered. "Although you do have a point that our son may not appreciate a young man stripping for his daughter."

"Then it's just as well he's not here," Grandma answered.

"What a horrible thing to say!" Diane exclaimed. "Honestly, sometimes I don't know what to do with you, Mom!"

"Thank you, Grandma," Isabel whispered after Diane stalked off in a huff.

"We tried to keep her busy in the back, but she heard the music and got curious," Grandma said. "The only real question is, did you enjoy it? It's your party, after all. I'll take that as a 'yes'," she went on when they all broke into grins. "Don't mind her; she'll get over it."

"Perhaps we should find her a drink," Grandpa suggested. "Preferably something stronger than punch. Think Jeff has anything we could spike it with?"

"Oh, my God!" Isabel laughed as they walked off in search of Diane. "Do you think they're actually going to spike Mom's drink?"

"I am officially in love with your grandparents," Maria declared.

"Grandma and Grandpa always know how to handle Mom," Max said. "That's why I asked them to try and keep her out of the way."

"Well, it was fun while it lasted," Maria sighed. "He was so close."

"Was that your idea?" Isabel said. "It must have been."

"My idea," Maria agreed, "but it wasn't much work to talk him into it. He'd do anything for you, Isabel. Anything at all."

"Well, tell him I loved it," Isabel said. "I'll tell him myself, but I'm guessing you might see him first when he stops dying of embarrassment."

"I should make sure he's still breathing," Maria agreed.

"She's right, you know," Max said as Maria went in search of. "Alex would do anything for you."

"Don't start shoving Alex on me, Max," Isabel said. "Alex is a dear friend, but that's all. I don't think of him like...that."

"Like you think of Grant?"

Isabel heaved a weary sigh. "It was just a date. A date. That's all."

"How long have you been seeing him?"

"Since never," Isabel said tartly, "because we never managed to pull it off what with hell breaking lose every other minute."

"So you've been trying for a while," Max said.

"What have you got against Grant?" Isabel demanded. "He's never done anything to you."

"No, he did something to Michael," Max reminded her.

"Not on purpose," Isabel argued. "He just happened to find our mess. We leave so many lying around, someone was bound to find one sooner or later."

"What if he didn't 'just happen' to find the bones?" Max said. "What if he's an enemy?"

Isabel stared at him. "You were the one who said he was just a 'random geologist' who made a random find. You were the one accusing Michael and me of being all paranoid about Brody. But of course now that you know he likes me, he's automatically an enemy."

"Don't be so melodramatic," Max chided. "I'm just considering the possibilities, even the unlikely ones. And like I said, this isn't a good time to let anyone else in."

"It's never a good time, and I'm not letting anyone 'in'," Isabel retorted. "It's a date, Max, just a one night encounter. You don't know how those work because you skipped right over that part and the next sixty-six to land on 'soulmate' and spill all our secrets. And no, that's not just 'the past'. That 'past' rears its head every single time Liz Parker walks by, along with everyone else she's blathered to."

"Like Alex?" Max said softly.

Isabel looked stricken, but whatever she was going to say was cut off by the arrival of Kyle. "Here's the birthday girl!" Kyle exclaimed, giving her a hug. "Happy Birthday! And how about that Whitman? Never thought I'd see the day a geek would do something like that."

"Yeah, I'd sooner expect you to do something like that," Isabel answered. "So when do I get a birthday striptease from you?"

Kyle pinked. "Not with your mom around," he whispered. "She looked a little cranky."

"Oh, right," Isabel said sagely. "It's just because of my mom."

"I'm...over at that booth," Kyle said hurriedly, crooking a thumb. "Stop by!"

"Jocks," Isabel muttered as Kyle beat a hasty retreat. "Almost as bad as overbearing brothers."

"I'm not 'overbearing'," Max objected, "I'm just trying to...what is it?" he asked as she doubled over, one hand clutched to her head. "Is that your headache again?"

Isabel straightened up slowly, a look of alarm on her face. "Yeah. They're getting worse."





*********************************************************






"Did you know about this?" Diane demanded. "How could you not know about this? Isn't there anyone vetting these things, or asking any questions?"

Eyes as wide as platters, Jeff Parker personified the concept of "deer in the headlights". "I...uh…"

"Do you have any idea how bad this makes your cafe look?" Diane went on. "Do you really want people going around town thinking the Crashdown is a strip joint?"

"The audience seemed to be enjoying it," Dee noted.

"Really enjoying it," Anthony added.

"Would you two please stay out of this?" Diane said crossly. "You're as bad as the teenagers!"

Dee felt Anthony squeeze her arm, probably to keep her from throwing it around Diane's neck and pulling hard. It was never easy to listen to one of her rants when she got her teeth in something, but it was doubly difficult tonight with the specter of kidnapped children and dashed hopes looming over them like a thundercloud. Tess was still missing, Brivari had not called, Courtney was ready to explode, and Diane was exploding, about all the wrong things. So much for a night off.

"Diane, I can promise you I knew nothing about this," Jeff said earnestly. "Liz just told me you were throwing Isabel a birthday party, but she never said anything about the...entertainment. I'll certainly speak to her just as soon as she gets back."

"Why?" Dee said. "It was Max's and Maria's idea."

"Nonsense," Diane scoffed. "Max would never agree to this."

"Obviously you don't know Max as well as you think you do," Dee said.

There was a sudden chill in the air as Diane scowled at her; any suggestion that she wasn't a perfect mother was one of her hottest buttons. "I thought I asked you to stay out of this!" she said tartly.

"You did. And I won't," Dee said, ignoring her husband, now squeezing so hard he was restricting blood flow. "I was watching too, and I can't for the life of me figure out how you got a 'striptease' out of Alex Whitman taking his shirt off. He even had an undershirt on, for God's sake. How does removing a single item of clothing constitute a 'striptease'? How does that make this place a 'strip joint'? Frankly, I think you owe Jeff an apology."

"I should be able to hold a child's birthday party without fear of seeing something inappropriate," Diane said stoutly.

"There is no 'right to never see anything you consider inappropriate', and Isabel is no longer a child," Dee retorted. "She's 18, or just about. Hell, she can go to a real strip joint if she wants to, where they take off way more than a shirt. I can't believe you're carrying on like this over a party prank!"

Diane launched into an invective about police costumes and innuendo while Jeff's gaze swung back and forth between the two warring woman before coming to rest on Anthony, who shrugged. Dee felt bad about Jeff winding up in the middle, but this latest huff fest of Diane's was just too much. It was one thing to complain to Philip, whom she had been unable to reach by phone, contenting herself with a terse voicemail, but quite another entirely to accuse poor Jeff of running a "strip joint" because mild-mannered Alex had removed his shirt. Granted he may have removed more than that if Diane hadn't stopped him, but why speculate? No sense bringing up that red thong.

"Diane, why don't we discuss this later," Anthony said crisply, cutting her off mid-diatribe. "I'm sure Jeff will look into it, you've already called Philip, and I'd hate to see you miss the rest of the party because of this one incident. Isabel will be opening her gifts soon, and you wouldn't want to miss that, would you?"

"Of course not," Diane answered, "but the gifts can wait a few minutes until I'm sure this has been settled."

"Suit yourself," Dee shrugged. "But keep in mind that for every minute you spend back here, they're all out there all by themselves. They could have had four stripteases in the time it's taking you to complain about one."

Diane looked startled, then scuttled back inside the cafe like someone was chasing her. "Was that necessary?" Anthony said wearily.

"Yes," Dee said. "Nothing was going to shut her up but duct tape or fear of a recurrence. She'll go patrol like some old nun, but that will keep her busy and out of Jeff's hair."

"Aw, it's okay," Jeff said. "It's not like she's the first irate customer I've ever had."

"No, just the loudest," Dee said. "And I'll bet the others were complaining about a strip of bacon, not a striptease."

"This is one for the books," Jeff admitted. "Did I hear you say it was Alex Whitman? The Alex Whitman? As in the computer geek?"

"The same," Dee said. "Which is one of the reasons it was so funny. Who would have thought?"

Jeff broke into a wide smile which would have driven Diane nuts. "Wow. Wish I'd seen that myself. Only so I'd know what she's upset about," he added quickly. "It's kind of hard to weigh in when I didn't see it. Oh...Courtney!" he called. "How's the cake going over?"

Courtney paused in the office doorway, a fake smile plastered on her face. "Great. Just great."

"Looks that way," Jeff said, noting the tray full of empty plates she was holding. "Thanks for working tonight. I'm sure Maria appreciated it."

"Oh, I'm sure," Courtney said.

"Why don't you go along, Jeff?" Dee suggested, lest he notice the avalanche of sarcasm in that last sentence. "Maybe you could have some kind of emergency come up that needs your undivided attention?"

"Got plenty of those," Courtney muttered.

"We'll try to keep Diane occupied," Anthony said hastily when Jeff gave Courtney a puzzled look. "It might be best if you stayed out of sight until she settles down."

"Jeff!" Diane called excitedly from the doorway, her earlier temper apparently forgotten. "Jeff, you have to come out here! Congresswoman Whitaker is here! Come meet her!"

Jeff hurried after Diane as Dee and Anthony exchanged glances and Courtney motioned them into the kitchen.

"Guess who came to dinner?" Courtney said sourly.

"Mind if I go strangle her?" Dee said darkly.

"She's not the worst of it," Courtney said. "They know. The rest of them, I mean. They know something's wrong."

"How?" Dee asked sharply.

"I'm not sure," Courtney admitted, "but I think it has something to do with the headaches Vilandra has been complaining about all night. She's having visions of Tess calling out for help."

"So they're making some kind of connection," Dee said.

Courtney shook her head. "This is different. Connections don't occur over that kind of distance, which might explain the headaches. Either Ava's stashed in the basement or the hybrids can connect over much greater distances than normal. Either way, we're screwed—Zan went to get the sheriff, and Rath went to look through Vanessa's office because Liz figured out she's watching her. Vilandra wants to go look for Tess, and even though Zan talked her out of it for now, I'm betting we don't have long before she flips him the proverbial bird and goes anyway. Jesus, this is like herding cats!"

"Well, if she's having visions of Tess in trouble, of course she wants to do something about it," Dee said.

"But she can't!" Courtney exclaimed. "As soon as Vanessa figures out Brivari's not coming, she'll go right back to wherever she's got Ava, and if Vilandra's there, she'll grab her too. Brivari ordered me to keep them here, and now they're scattering to the winds! I tried throwing them off; I said nobody wanted Tess, I even made nasty comments about her hair and her boobs, but no dice."

"How did you hear all this?" Anthony asked.

"They're worried, so they're being sloppy," Courtney answered. "They keep kicking me out, but I heard all I needed to hear. What the hell are we going to do?"

"Go on inside, both of you," Dee said. "I'll take care of this."

"Where are you going?" Anthony asked.

Dee shrugged on her coat. "To the one place Isabel will go if she decides to leave."





**********************************************************





Maria peeked through the swinging door into the back. "The coast is clear," she whispered. "Come on."

Her head pounding, Isabel slipped through the door into the back of the cafe, or tried to, anyway—one did not precisely "slip" anywhere in the dress she was wearing. The headaches were so bad now that they sometimes blurred her vision, but only her real vision; her visions of Tess crying out for help, ironically, were clearer than ever. Something was very, very wrong, and there was no way in hell she was going to sit around partying while Max and Michael were out investigating. Did they really think so little of her that they expected her to ignore what she was seeing and go on playing birthday girl? She'd be insulted if she didn't suspect that, deep down, they were really just trying to protect her. I'm not the one who needs protecting, she thought as she followed Maria out the back door to where she'd parked her car...and hauled up short when Maria came to an abrupt halt.

"Well, if it isn't the birthday girl," Grandma Dee said as she leaned on the hood of Maria's Jetta.

"Grandma!" Isabel exclaimed. "What...what are you doing here?"

"It's noisy in there," Grandma answered. "I needed some peace and quiet. Leaving so soon?"

"I...need something from home," Isabel lied hurriedly. "I'm coming right back."

"I'll drive you," Grandma offered.

"No!" Isabel said quickly. "I mean, no thanks," she amended hastily. "Maria's taking me."

"If I take you, Maria can stay," Grandma noted.

"I don't mind," Maria chimed in. "Really, it's okay."

"That's sweet of you, but completely unnecessary," Grandma said crisply. "Come, Isabel. Let's take you home so you can get whatever it is you need."

There followed an awkward silence. Maria looked back and forth between the two of them as Grandma Dee waited for Isabel to follow her. "Maria," Isabel said finally, "could you give us a minute?"

Maria retreated to the driver's side of the car while Isabel gestured to her grandmother to join her. "Grandma, what's going on?" Isabel whispered. "You've never been into 'peace and quiet', and why would you be looking for that right in front of Maria's car? Why not your own car? No offense, but you're just not a very good liar."

"Oh, none taken," Grandma said lightly. "But I'm afraid you're mistaken, dear—I'm a spectacular liar, much better than you just were. I'm just not trying."

Isabel heart began to pound almost as hard as her head. "You heard something," she said in a brittle voice. "What did you hear?"

"Something about Tess being missing," Grandma said. "Where are you going?"

"I'm not sure," Isabel said truthfully. "I'll know when I get there."

"Then I'll come with you," Grandma said.

"You can't," Isabel said. "It's not safe."

"But it is safe for you and Maria?"

"No," Isabel whispered. "It's not safe for anybody."

"Then don't go," Grandma said firmly.

"I have to," Isabel said. "I don't have a choice."

"Then take Max with you," Grandma said, "or Michael, or the sheriff, or somebody. Just don't go alone."

"They're not here," Isabel said in an anguished voice, "and they're on the wrong track. I can find her. I hear…" She paused, trying to get past the catch in her voice. "I don't want to lie to you, Grandma, but I can't tell you everything. All I can say is that I'm tired of feeling helpless. Everyone tells me to stay back, to be safe, but that just makes me feel like a doll on a shelf, like some kind of ornament, and...and yes, I know how ironic that statement is when I'm dressed like this," she finished ruefully. "But I mean it. I can't just be someone that things happen to any more, and I won't stand by and do nothing while things happen to someone else just so I can be 'safe'. Because 'safe' isn't just about me—if the people I love aren't safe, I'm not safe either. You know what I mean, don't you?"

Grandma's expression softened. "Of course I do. I just wish there was some way I could make this better for you."

"You can," Isabel said. "I asked Liz to cover for me, but you'll do it better, especially with Mom. Just hold them off until I get back."

Grandma considered that for a long moment before nodding. "All right, dear. Good luck."

"So...you're not going to tell?" Isabel said.

"If you have to go, then you have to go," Grandma said. "I just wish you didn't have to."

Isabel's eyes brimmed with tears. "Me too." She planted a kiss on her grandmother's cheek. "Thanks, Grandma. I'll be back. I promise."

"You'd better be," Grandma warned, squeezing her hand, "or I'll be very cross with the universe."

Isabel gave her a shaky smile. "Then the universe better behave itself if it knows what's good for it."

One final squeeze, and Grandma disappeared back inside the Crashdown. I don't want to let go, Isabel thought as her grandmother's hand slipped out of hers. She would absolutely love to take her grandmother with her, to have someone so completely on her side, but in this case, Max was right—telling her put her in danger. Telling her would be selfish. They couldn't afford to let anyone else in not only because it was dangerous for themselves, but because it was dangerous for whoever learned their secret.

"That's it?" Maria demanded. "She's just going to let you go? She's not going to blow us in?"

"Of course not," Isabel said.

Maria shook her head as Isabel climbed into the car. "Grandmothers," she said wonderingly "Best thing ever."

"Not 'grandmothers'," Isabel corrected. "My grandmother. Let's go."





*********************************************************





Chaves County Electric Power Facility






Finally, Brivari thought only five minutes after commencing a search at his sixth target, an abandoned power plant halfway to the middle of nowhere. This single Warder business was damnably slow, but he'd finally hit the jackpot in the form of a faint moaning sound in what was unmistakably a female voice. Ava was here; now he just had to find her…

Twin pricks of light shone in the distance. Peering through a grimy window, Brivari swore silently—what the hell was she doing here? Now he had two of them to rescue, precisely what he did not need. Had he not made that clear? Couldn't Courtney follow a simple directive? How hard could it be to keep a famously vain princess at her own birthday party?



~~~~~~~~~~~~



I'll post Chapter 35 on Sunday, August 23.

Welcome back.....so glad you enjoyed a nice visit with your son.
Loved this part. I'm a grandmother too, and we can be contrary any time we wish to.
Diane just really had a problem with Alex's dance.......but the grandparents.......just bring on Magic Mike!
It was so funny that grandma wanted to go with Isabel and Maria to find Tess............they got out of that one okay.......for now.
Thanks,
Carolyn

^^ Everyone needs a contrary grandmother! Or two.





CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE





September 17, 2000, 7:40 p.m.,

Crashdown Cafe






Courtney piled dirty plates onto the tray as she scanned the room, every nerve on edge. So this was what high blood pressure felt like, this throbbing sensation in your temples like your head was about to explode. They had only twenty minutes to go until DEFCON 2, human-speak for the brink of nuclear war. Vanessa had been mingling all Congress-like and studiously ignoring her, which was fortunate given that she hadn't needed to pretend that she didn't know Vanessa had trussed up the queen like a hog at a state fair or that Brivari was supposed to show, but wouldn't. That suited her just fine, but as she hefted her tray and headed into the back, she noted a curious lack of pieces in play—no Vanessa, no Dee, and most alarming of all, no Vilandra. Most of the gifts remained on the table, gaily wrapped and unopened. Hadn't she gone for some aspirin? How long did it take to pop a couple of pills? She's trying to leave, Courtney thought grimly, pushing through the door into the back. Thank goodness Dee would be there to intercept her…or not, she amended as the back door opened, and Dee stepped inside.

"Well?" Courtney demanded. "Where is she?"

"Gone," Dee replied.

Courtney's eyes bulged. "Gone? Gone where?"

"To find Tess, I imagine."

"But why? You were supposed to stop her!"

"I tried," Dee said. "But there was a wrinkle, and in the end, I decided it was better that she go."

"Shit!" Courtney exclaimed. "Holy shit! Now Vanessa will have both of them!"

"Vanessa has nothing at the moment because Vanessa is here," Dee reminded her. "And Isabel seems to think she can find Tess."

"So what?" Courtney exclaimed. "There's a Royal Warder out there looking for her! Isn't that enough? Because it sure as hell should be."

"Exactly," Dee answered. "There is a Warder looking for her, a single individual, and he doesn't know where to look."

"He narrowed it down," Courtney argued. "Something about Vanessa's cell signal."

"My impression was that Isabel could do better. Look, this is a new game," Dee went on as Courtney made a strangling sound. "There aren't two of them any more, so when crises arise, and God knows they will, they'll be more compromised than usual. The kids have skills of their own, skills everyone will need now that there's only one Warder. However fast Brivari tries to move, there's still only one of him, and Isabel seems to have information he lacks, which makes sense; we know they're more powerful than their Warders, just inexperienced. If Isabel can find Tess faster, shouldn't she try? Doesn't Tess deserve that?" She paused. "It's time we considered bringing the kids into this. Perhaps we should tell them the truth."

"Oh, God," Courtney said faintly, one hand to her mouth. "You didn't...you didn't tell them about me, and—"

"I didn't tell her anything," Dee said. "Technically. And she didn't tell me anything either. Technically."

" 'Technically'?" Courtney said incredulously. "What the hell is 'technically'? It's just a wuss word for 'I spilled'! You can't just unilaterally decide to wise up the hybrids—that's not your call, or mine."

"I didn't," Dee said, "but frankly, if Brivari's not here to make a call, I'll make it for him based on the situation at the time. We may as well get used to it because this is going to happen more and more now that he's alone."

"He's gonna kill me!" Courtney exclaimed, growing more agitated by the minute. "He told me to keep them here, and they're all gone, every single one of them! Not to mention that when he hears I tried drumming up support for the treaty, he's gonna go all 'high treason' on my ass. He already knows I talked to Vanessa about it, so right there I'm collaborating with the enemy. And here I thought I'd die when my husk gave out."

"He's not going to kill you," Dee said calmly. "I'm the one who let Isabel go, so that's on me. And I supported your support of the treaty, so if he wants to go on a killing spree, he'll have to include me. Which would be supremely stupid of him given that the last thing he needs are fewer allies."

"So what am I supposed to do?" Courtney demanded. "Just sit here and wait for the Grim Reaper, otherwise known as the Grim Warder?"

"Just work the party like you were always going to," Dee said. "The most helpful thing we can do now is keep Vanessa here as long as possible. If she's here, she can't be wherever the rest of them are. I'll go see what's what, and you just keep your eyes open."

"Right," Courtney muttered. "Great. Wonderful." Dee went back into the cafe as she picked up the tray and slammed into the kitchen, muttering profanities not quite under her breath. One could only hope Mr. Parker wasn't around, but since the cake had been served, the kitchen was quiet…

"Such language. How terribly unprofessional."

Courtney drew up short. Vanessa leaned against a kitchen counter, a compact in one hand, lipstick in another, carefully refreshing her pout. "I hope you don't mind that I've snubbed you," Vanessa went on, apparently missing the storm cloud gathering on Courtney's face. "It wouldn't be in our best interests for anyone to know we—"

Crash! The rest of that sentence was cut off as the tray hit the counter and Courtney grabbed her by the shoulders and shook—hard. "Are you out of your fucking mind?" she demanded furiously, the lipstick flying out of Vanessa's hand to land on the tray. "Kidnapping the queen? And here you claimed you were worried about the treaty. Well, worry no more, Einstein, because you just did the one thing sure to kill it! And here I thought you actually had a few working brain cells. My bad!"

Courtney released her with one final shake for good measure as Vanessa stared at her in astonishment, her coif mussed, one earring askew. "Well!" she said after a long moment, fishing her lipstick out of a half-finished glass of cola. "News travels fast. That settles who your contact is, and he must have you on a very short leash if you've already heard—"

Slap!

Vanessa's head whipped sideways, one hand to her cheek. "Don't fuck with me, you little shit," Courtney ground out. "We had a chance, a real chance, and then it all went to hell. Gosh, why does that ring a bell? Oh, yes! The same thing happened at home; we had a real chance and then it all went to hell, and for the same reason—you!"

"So you think I singlehandedly engineered the coup," Vanessa said, carefully shifting her jaw. "I'm good, honey, but even I'm not that good."

"You know what I mean!" Courtney exclaimed. "Khivar and his minions, and like it or not, you're a minion. And you learned from the best because history is repeating itself—you've screwed up again! This is the one thing Brivari will never forgive, the one thing sure to kill even the best chance at a treaty, and I shouldn't need to point out that we never had the best chance. Where is she?"

"You expect me to tell you that?" Vanessa demanded, still nursing her swollen cheek. "She's my leverage, my collateral. She's the one thing that will make him listen."

"There you are!"

Two heads turned. Dee had entered the kitchen, and Vanessa hurriedly patted her hair, no doubt expecting to meet a constituent. "This must look odd," she confessed in her best congressional voice as Courtney glared at her, "but I do like to keep up with all the voters, including the working class, like this waitress here. We were just—"

"Stop talking," Dee ordered. "What did you do with Tess?"





*********************************************************






If anyone had asked Dee Proctor what her worst trait was, she wouldn't have needed to think about it: Impatience. She was routinely impatient with other people, be they slow, obtuse, selfish, or just plain pig-headed. It was safe to say her impatience was now at its zenith as a mercifully quiet summer had given way to disaster. Jaddo's death would rock two worlds in ways none of them could fathom at the moment, not the least of which involved her granddaughter foraging into the night to correct a situation which should never have happened. To say she was pissed about that was putting it lightly. Having failed to find Vanessa in the cafe, she'd followed the raised voices. Now she fully intended to raise her own.

Vanessa looked a bit the worse for wear, her impeccable suit no longer impeccable and a smear of lipstick to one side of her mouth, while Courtney was doing a masterful impression of a deer in the headlights that rivaled Jeff Parker's earlier effort. "I...don't know what you're talking about," Vanessa said. "Who is 'Tess'? I don't—"

"Drop the act," Dee interrupted. "You're so full of it, the whites of your eyes are turning brown. Or the whites of your husk."

There followed a swap, of sorts, as Courtney relaxed a bit, the line having now been well and truly crossed, while Vanessa assumed the role of the startled deer. "My...what? I'm not sure I—"

"Allow me to refresh your memory," Dee said. "You're an Argilian. You work for Khivar, who used Vilandra to murder her brother, the king, and steal his throne. You've made a right royal mess of things here and there, and now you've just upped the ante by kidnapping the queen, ruining even the tiniest chance the treaty had to end this mess and restore peace. Is this ringing any bells, or do dying husks confer dementia on their wearers?"

The corners of Courtney's mouth twitched as Vanessa's set in a thin line. "Who the hell are you?" she demanded. "I've never seen you before in my life! How do you know so much about me? Who is this?" she said to Courtney. "Why does she know so much?"

"Because," Courtney said slowly, "when the king's ship crashed back in '47, it landed on property belonging to her neighbor."

Vanessa stared at her in silence for a very long time before raising a finger, shaking it. "You," she said wonderingly. "You must be the human ally. We always knew they had one, but we thought it was someone in law enforcement, or the military, or the government, or someone...important," she finished in a derisive tone which made it clear she found Dee to be nothing of the sort.

"Check, check, and check," Dee said. "I am one of their human allies. They've amassed quite the collection, in every category you named and beyond."

"Oh, of course they have," Vanessa said bitterly. "You don't know what they did. You don't know who you're supporting. You don't know—"

"I know all I need to know right now, which is that you've taken the Queen of Antar hostage. I sincerely hope you have your affairs in order, because I doubt you'll ever see another sun rise on this world or any other. If you hand her over, I might be able to convince Brivari to give you a painless death, something Jaddo didn't have."

"For the last time, I didn't kill him!" Vanessa exclaimed. "Why would I do that when I was working on a treaty with him? And why am I even discussing this with some human? What makes you think you can get me anything? Talk about delusions of grandeur!"

"Brivari will listen to her way before he'll listen to me," Courtney noted. "Or pretty much anyone."

Vanessa's gaze swung back to Dee, studied her. "Is that so?" she said finally. "To each his own. Although never in a million years would I have thought that would be some dumpy old woman. No offense," she added with a cold smile. "Whatever floats his boat."

"Oh, I'm right there with you," Dee assured her. "Never in a million years would I have thought some dessicated old husk with no power would have floated Jaddo's. There truly is no accounting for taste."

Vanessa's nostrils flared as the barbs hit home, the tension in the kitchen rising abruptly. " 'No power'?" Vanessa snapped. "I'll have you know that I have the ear of Khivar's Second, which is why Jaddo chose me to make a treaty with—"

"Oh, shut it," Dee interrupted impatiently. "You don't have Nicholas's ear, you have his dick, and Jaddo 'chose' you because he was screwing you or, more precisely, you were screwing him. That appears to be the only power you have—between your legs. But don't feel bad," she went on as Vanessa's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You're no different than lots of human women who've slept their way into the orbits of powerful men because they couldn't get there on their own. After all, they do say it's the journey that counts, not the destination."

Courtney raised an eyebrow as Vanessa turned several interesting shades of purple. "Now," Dee continued briskly, "I'll ask you again...where is Tess?"

"As if I'd tell you!" Vanessa exclaimed. "She's my collateral, my—"

"Death sentence," Dee finished, "and a self-imposed one at that."

"Brivari agreed to meet with me," Vanessa argued. "If he kills me, he'll never find her."

"So it hasn't occurred to you that he could meet with you, promise you the moon, then kill you after you'd handed her over?" Dee said. "But of course it has," she went on when Vanessa's expression became cagey. "You have no intention of handing her over whether he meets with you, or marries you, or anything in between because the moment you do that, you've lost your so-called 'advantage'. And if a 'dumpy old woman' has figured that out, might not the King's Warder?"

"Listen to you," Vanessa said disdainfully, "tossing around buzzwords like 'the King's Warder'. You know nothing, nothing. You've never even seen my world, so how dare you act like you know what you're talking about?"

"I don't need to see it," Dee retorted. "You've successfully fucked it up beyond all recognition, and news of a failure that massive travels fast—and far."

"My, but aren't you both into profanity tonight?" Vanessa said dryly. "Blather all you want, but we're still in power."

"Not for long," Dee said. "It's no secret that the vast majority of people on Antar and your sister planets hate Khivar and love Zan. There's a reason everyone went crazy when he accessed that message from home. How do you think they'll react when they discover you personally tanked any chance for an armistice by kidnapping his wife? The treaty limited the price your race had to pay for the coup, but the outcry from this will do no such thing. They already want Zan back, but now...now he'll be able to park himself on his throne without firing a shot. The only shots fired will be at you."

For the first time, Vanessa's veneer of invulnerability wavered. "Tell me where she is," Dee insisted, "and we might be able to change that. Do the right thing for once, and I'll—"

The kitchen door opened abruptly, and Diane peered inside. "Mom?" she said quizzically. "Oh...hello," she added self-consciously when she saw Vanessa. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting, but I can't find Izzie. Do you know where she is?"

Damn it! "Check the bathroom," Dee said through gritted teeth, cursing Diane's timing. "She's probably fixing her make-up."

"Already did," Diane said. "She's not in any of the usual places, but she must be here somewhere. I'll keep looking."

Diane disappeared, the door swinging in her wake as a look of cold horror spread across Vanessa's face, her arm whipping up to consult a large wristwatch. "You bitch," she breathed furiously. "You bitch!" She walked straight up to Dee. "This is over, do you hear me? Over. No more talking. The war's back on."

"Of course it is," Dee said. "And you're the one who restarted it. Congratulations."

Vanessa stared at her a moment in stony silence before stalking out. "Okay, what...what just happened there?" Courtney said finally. "Did you really just waltz in here and out Vanessa and yourself? Why would you do that?"

"To stall," Dee said. "It was time for Brivari to show up, and we both know he's not coming. And if she realized Isabel was gone, she might not even wait for him. I was trying to keep her busy so she wouldn't look at the clock. Damn Diane and her pathological need to know where her children are at all times!"

Courtney glanced at the clock, which read 8:15 p.m. "You bought them 15 minutes."

Dee nodded heavily. "Let's hope it's enough. Now we wait."

"Crap," Courtney muttered. "I need a cigarette."





**********************************************************





"You're awfully quiet."

Valenti's eyes flickered, pulling him out of the trance in which he'd been driving ever since they'd left Grant Sorenson's motel room. "Yeah, I'm...thinking."

"About where Tess is?" Max asked.

"Among other things."

"Like what?"

Valenti smiled faintly as a memory flared of a toddler Kyle repeating, "Why?" until he thought he'd pull his hair out. "Like what made you suspect Sorenson, Max? Is this just about him finding Pierce's bones? Because I honestly believe that was just an accident."

"I told you, he showed up at the party bleeding," Max answered. "That could mean he'd been struggling with someone, and we both know Tess is the type to leave someone bleeding."

"That she is," Valenti agreed. "The part I'm interested in is where he showed up at the party, but didn't stay. Why'd he leave?"

A wave of discomfort wafted from the passenger seat. "He wasn't invited to the party," Max said. "He apparently had a date with Isabel tonight. That's why she was all dressed up."

"Ah," Valenti said knowingly. "And you don't like that."

"Of course I don't like that. It's always dangerous to let someone in. You know that."

"I do," Valenti allowed. "But isn't this a case of the pot calling the kettle black? It's tough to argue you didn't let Liz Parker in."

"That was different," Max insisted. "I was saving her life."

"Fair point," Valenti said, "but what about Maria? What about Alex? Were you saving their lives?"

Max was quiet for a moment. "Maria found out because Liz told her," he said finally. "And Alex found out because he saved mine."

"Oh? I never heard about this."

"He...donated...some blood," Max said. "When I was in the car accident, they drew blood, and our blood gives us away. So Liz talked Alex into giving us a blood sample, and we switched it with mine."

Valenti let out a long, low whistle. "That must have taken some doing. Not just switching the blood, but getting it in the first place."

"Liz told him it was drugs," Max said. "She didn't tell him the truth until that night you locked both of them up for being at that party at the old soap factory. Alex didn't believe her right away."

And I would have, Valenti thought, chagrined to once again encounter his earlier behavior. More than once, he'd raked Alex Whitman over the coals trying to get something out of him, but Whitman hadn't uttered a peep. As if giving blood wasn't evidence enough of the depth of his loyalty, he'd also given something even more precious—his silence.

"We don't blame you, you know. For the way you treated us," Max went on. "You didn't know. I mean, you kind of did, but you didn't know enough to see the whole picture."

Valenti winced. "So what's my excuse now?"

"Sorry?"

The light ahead was red. Valenti stopped, one hand massaging his temple. "I just broke into a man's room without a warrant. I rifled through his stuff without any legal premise. I ignored something that's always been one of the most important things to me—the rule of law, the fact that we're all equal in the eyes of the law, whether we're bus drivers or presidents. I'm not just doing what I did back before I 'knew', I'm doing worse things. So if not knowing was my excuse before, what's my excuse now?"

"And how would getting a warrant have gone, exactly?" Max asked. " 'This kid I know is having visions of one of her friends in trouble, so I need to search this guy's room'? How well do you think that would have gone over?"

"We didn't exactly have probable cause," Valenti agreed.

"The laws you're trying to follow weren't written for these situations," Max said. "You're not breaking the law, you're...reinterpreting it."

Valenti shook his head. "That's what Hitler said. And Mussolini, and every other dictator you can name. I'm sworn to uphold the law whether I agree with it or not. I don't get to pick and choose; that's what dirty cops do. Sorenson has a right to privacy."

"And Tess has a right to live," Max argued. "You couldn't follow the normal procedures, not without putting us in a kind of danger we're all too familiar with. You didn't just casually ignore the rules; you did it because the other choices were worse.

"Keep trying," Valenti muttered.

"Let me ask you this—if this had been a normal missing person's report, would you have done things differently? Would you have gotten a warrant before talking to Grant?"

"Of course," Valenti said.

"Here's the thing, sheriff—laws are written for ordinary circumstances, not extraordinary ones. Without extraordinary circumstances, you tow the line. With extraordinary circumstances, you do what you have to do to protect as many people as possible. That's not being a dirty copy, that's being a good cop. And the fact that you're questioning this, that you keep challenging yourself to prove that what you did was justified, makes you an even better cop. Dirty cops don't bother."

The light turned green. Valenti stared at his passenger for a moment before starting forward. "How did you get to be so smart?"

Max smiled faintly. "Getting murdered might have had something to do with it."

His phone rang. "Hey, Michael," Max said. "What'd you find out—what? Michael, slow down! Just slow down and tell us where you are."





*********************************************************






Gripping the steering wheel so hard it left indentations on her hands, Vanessa pushed the accelerator to the floor as her car barreled down the highway. The shocked faces of the human drivers she passed would have been amusing if she'd been in a mood to be amused, which she most certainly was not. She'd been stood up. She'd been lied to. She'd been humiliated. She'd been duped. If it were only a Royal Warder doing the lying and duping, she would have felt much better; Royal Warders were worthy adversaries, if nothing else. But this time her undoing had come in the form of an old lady, a human so unremarkable that she'd completely missed her presence at the party. No wonder they'd never located the Warders' human allies; she could safely say that no one would have expected such an unimpressive package to pack such an impressive punch. That unremarkable old lady had successfully taunted her for a full quarter hour past the appointed meeting time, 15 precious minutes she could have used to relocate her prize after she'd realized Brivari wasn't coming. Instead she'd spent that time locked in combat with someone who'd picked a fight with her to keep her blathering, to delay the moment she realized she'd been had. And it worked, Vanessa thought grimly. If Isabel's mother hadn't appeared, she'd probably be there still, trading barbs with what obviously wasn't just any little old lady.

Isabel. Vanessa's grip steadied when she remembered that she'd come away from this little adventure with more than just egg on her face. Now that she knew who was who, she'd studied the princess carefully and found little difference from her earlier incarnation. Beautiful, empty-headed, easily annoyed, like she'd been with that little alien doll Vanessa had thoughtfully left on the gift table...no, Vilandra did not appear to be much different than she used to be. Good news for Khivar, no doubt, but a bit of a let down in general; weren't second chances supposed to be all about improvement? Hadn't the Royal Four been given a second chance few received? Ava certainly seemed to have made the most of it, holding out for an impressive length of time before succumbing to the pain. Vilandra appeared to have no such fortitude, but no matter; that vapid piece of fluff was now the only way out. The treaty was dead, shot through the heart by Jaddo's death and Brivari's betrayal. It was back to square one, with the only way home the original way, the one paved by a princess and the Granolith. If she could score at least one of those, she could still come out of this on top. Tires screeched as she brought the car to an abrupt halt on the back side of the power plant and hurried inside, only to find her prize missing.

Damn it! Vanessa swore, pounding through the hallways like grim death, not caring if anyone heard her because the Warder who had taken Ava most certainly could if he was still here. How had he found her? Their phones were supposed to be untraceable, and there was now only one Warder, a far cry from the swarms who would have descended on an abducted royal on Antar. But perhaps she was getting ahead of herself. No one wanted the queen; Vilandra was the real prize, and now that she knew who she was, obtaining her shouldn't be difficult. Just wave a pretty dress or piece of jewelry, and she'd no doubt follow like a slavering hound dog…

Voices caught her attention, or rather a voice, urgent and breathless. Hurrying along a catwalk into the next room, Vanessa looked down on the most astonishing sight.

"Put your arm around me. C'mon, put...hang on, Tess. Please hang on! It won't be long now."

Vanessa watched, dumbfounded, as Antar's famously self-centered princess heaved its queen to her feet and literally dragged her across the floor. The gorgeous party dress was now stained and shredded, the heels missing, the carefully coifed hair hanging in sweaty tendrils that would never have been tolerated in that other life. How on earth had she found her? Connections didn't work over that kind of distance, at least not for ordinary people. But these were no ordinary people; these were enhanced hybrids, a new breed entirely. And they're mine, Vanessa thought with supreme satisfaction. How she would love to see the look on that bitchy old woman's face when she realized she'd failed, that she now had two hostages, the main prize and a spare for good measure. Reaching into her pocket, she fingered her trithium generator as Vilandra used her powers to unlock a door. No; not yet. If she blocked their powers now, she'd block her own as well, and she seriously doubted the princess would be a threat. While it did appear she needed to amend her earlier thought about second chances, Vilandra was still Vilandra. History usually repeated itself, and if not, well...there was clearly no Warder here to prevent her pressing the point.





**********************************************************




Chaves County Electric Power Facility—Plant #2





Ever since the pods had disgorged their contents, one of the most longstanding arguments between Dee and the Warders had been the disposition of the resulting hybrids—were they they same people they had been, or different? Dee had always insisted they were all now different people, the same in some ways, perhaps, yet still different. Brivari secretly believed she had a point, but still clung to the notion that they were either basically the same or could become so because he had so much invested in that outcome. Jaddo had been worse, refusing to even contemplate the suggestion that their Wards were not everything they used to be. What a shock it had been, then, to learn that it had been Jaddo who had ultimately confronted the question of what would happen if the hybrids never became themselves again and carved a compromise in the treaty he'd supposedly given his blessing to. A completely unacceptable compromise, of course, but remarkable considering the source. It made one wonder what he'd say now, as the hybrid he'd always hated proved once and for all that Dee was right.

Brivari's fingers tapped impatiently on the catwalk railing as, several feet below, Vilandra half carried, half dragged Ava a few more feet. As inconvenient and inexplicable as it had been having the princess find her way here, he hadn't really thought she would present much of an obstacle. The Vilandra he knew would never have appeared in the first place, and on the off chance that she had, would have dithered inside the doorway, put off by the darkness and dirt. When one lived in a palace, one had people to do these kinds of things for you. Perhaps that had been the problem because now that Vilandra did not live in a palace, she was behaving in ways he never would have expected, plunging into the search for her sister-in-law with a determination he was familiar with, but had never seen applied in quite this way. It had quickly become apparent that he wouldn't be able to locate Ava and remove her as easily as he had hoped; the hybrid who was also on the hunt had senses as good as his, even if unpracticed. Even after he'd managed to find the queen, he'd had to stop several times when the princess approached, although it was still something of a puzzle as to how she was locating Ava so quickly. It was stop and go until the arrival of Vanessa had made it more stop than go, and Vilandra had caught up. She was now valiantly trying to carry Ava to safety, unaware that her abductor approached. Dee and Courtney were failing spectacularly tonight.

"Put your arm around me," Vilandra begged. "C'mon, put...hang on, Tess. Please hang on! It won't be long now."

It certainly won't, Brivari thought heavily. How to perform a rescue and an execution without revealing himself? Vanessa would die here, that was certain; this was the perfect place to dispose of her, and if she escaped, she would run back to Copper Summit, which was fortified against Covari. Battered and bruised, Ava was largely unaware of what was happening. But Vilandra...the princess he saw now, stubbornly dragging Ava along, what would she do if she realized there was another "Nasedo" out there? More importantly, what would her brother do? There was a reason one of them had stayed in the shadows and that reason was as valid as it had ever been, but if the hybrids got wind of the fact that another Warder existed, he had little doubt they would not rest until they found him. And then…

Movement across the room caught his eye. Vanessa was following the pair below, ultimately catching up with them when Vilandra stopped to rest. What followed was a seriously slanted recitation of the events which had led them here and which obviously rang no bells with the horrified princess. You left out the part where Khivar lied to her, Brivari thought darkly as Vanessa spun a tale of willing betrayal and predicted a repeat. Judging by the disheveled and filthy princess with the torn dress and defiant look in her eye, Brivari doubted it. Had she always had this much mettle? Had she simply not found herself in a situation where it could be tested? Perhaps if they'd survived Khivar's coup, they would have seen a very different person when she realized how she'd been duped.

But he digressed. Story time was over, replaced by tell-me-where-the-Granolith-is. Vilandra had no idea what a Granolith was, so Vanessa was out of luck, but that didn't stop her from hurling the queen against the wall. Enough, Brivari thought firmly. The princess and the queen were trapped, Vanessa was losing patience, and he had no idea what manner of reinforcements she'd called in. The time for lurking in the shadows was over.

Crash!

Brivari gaped right along with Vanessa at the sight of Vilandra grabbing Ava and jumping through a window, their landing on the floor below softened only slightly because he'd been so startled, he'd only managed to apply the brakes at the last minute. They appeared unhurt, but Vanessa took off, leaving him swearing under his breath. Shit. If Jaddo were here, they could have split up, with him guarding their Wards and Jaddo happily pursuing the enemy. But Jaddo wasn't here, there was only one Warder, and that one must follow their Wards. Everyone converged outside when Vilandra's tired arms overwhelmed her admittedly courageous retreat and she had to set Ava down. Whitaker grabbed an electrical cable, sparks flying as she tore it free.

"Isabel!"

Brivari's heart sank. Zan was wrenching the gate open, with Rath not far behind; not only would Vilandra witness his intervention, her brother would also. But there was nothing for it; Vanessa had to go, and she had to go now. Perhaps he could make it look like the cable had backfired on her? Perhaps they'd buy that and not look for further explanation?

A moment later, the decision was taken out of his hands.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



I'll post Chapter 36 on Sunday, September 6.

wow........lots of action here.
I've got to read this part again so I don't miss any of the events.
Thanks,
Carolyn

I just finished Defcon 2 again.
Tess was used as collateral, but I'm sorry she escaped unharmed.
Dee is just like me, impatient!
Now we know about Jaddo's death........Vanessa must go! And gone she is .
I'm glad the Sheriff knows the truth behind Alex's involvement.
Great part!

Hello and thank you to everyone reading, and special thanks for the feedback! ^^






CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX





September 17, 2000, 10 p.m.

Valenti residence






The house was dark and empty when Kyle unlocked the door and tossed his keys on the little table which bore the dings of many years of Valenti key-tossing. The birthday party had become something of a bust what with the birthday girl's absence, her mother's presence, and the complete absence of any of his friends from school. The Evans' kids didn't travel in the same social circles, being nerds and all, so he'd found himself surrounded by their fellow nerds without a jock in sight. It must be something of a milestone in alien-human relations if he was more put out that they were nerds than aliens, although there was a case to be made that nerds were kind of aliens in their own right. Eager to be a good party participant, he'd made an effort to consort with the nerds and discovered that many were red-blooded American males who sympathized with his current predicament, that of being overrun by female-dom. If only Isabel's mother hadn't overheard one of his red-blooded American male remarks and started watching him like a hawk, seriously cramping his style conversation-wise. Nerds or no nerds, what else was there to talk about besides sex and sports? Desperate for a familiar face, he'd strayed into Alex Whitman's wake, an Uber Nerd if ever there was one, but one he viewed with a good deal more respect after that strip tease. Unfortunately all Whitman wanted to do was obsess about said strip tease, and eventually Kyle's patience had run out.

"So why'd you do it?" he'd demanded. "What, did someone put a gun to your head?"

"Maria talked me into it!" Alex had wailed.

"Maria? Aren't you supposed to be smart, Whitman? Because any moron knows you don't let doodleheads like DeLuca talk you into anything."

"It was for Isabel, okay?" Whitman had whined. "I wanted to make her laugh."

"And you did," Kyle shrugged. "Mission accomplished."

"But her mother saw—"

"Oh, forget her mother," Kyle had said impatiently. "Are we supposed to go around genuflecting to her mother? This is the Crashdown, not the Church of the Holy Mother. If I wanted to…"

At some point during this diatribe, Whitman's eyes had drifted over his left shoulder and widened to the point where it looked painful. A couple of damning sentences later, Kyle had turned around to find a bemused Mrs. Evans behind him. The silence which followed was awkward indeed.

"I believe we met earlier," Mrs. Evans noted. "I'm Isabel's mom. And you are…?"

"Kyle," Kyle replied, his face on fire.

"Kyle...Valenti?"

Shit. Kyle's heart sank as he realized his father was going to hear about this, all of it. Representing the community, even indirectly, was a real pain in the ass. "Whoa, look at the time!" he exclaimed, sliding out of his chair. "It's a school night, so I really have to be going. It was a great party, Mrs. Evans. Thanks very much."

"Oh, do you have to go so soon?" Mrs. Evans said. "I'm sure Isabel will be back shortly."

"I'll see her tomorrow," Kyle said. "Gotta go. Homework to do!"

"Yeah, Kyle here is a real scholar," Whitman remarked with a perfectly straight face. "If he gets anything below an 'A', he gets really upset."

"You shouldn't be so hard on yourself," Mrs. Evans admonished as Kyle looked daggers at the grinning Whitman. "It's not as easy for some as for others. You should be proud of every 'B' you get."

"I'll keep that in mind," Kyle promised, privately noting that he couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten anything above a "C" in anything but gym. "Thanks again."

And off he'd run, although his empty house was small comfort because it wasn't very empty any more even when there weren't any people in it. While he and Tess had reached a detente of sorts, that didn't mean he'd gotten used to having a girl around. It was downright amazing how one girl could strew her stuff so completely over every square inch of real estate. If it wasn't panties hanging on the shower rod, it was girly shampoo in the shower, bras draped over lampshades, weird food in the fridge, and neatly folded laundry. What self-respecting bachelor pad had neatly folded laundry? And don't even get him started on the bathroom. What is all this stuff? he wondered, not for the first time, as he gazed at the amazing array of products littering the bathroom counter. There was a flowery-smelling deodorant, some dangerous-looking stuff labeled "make-up remover" which smelled horrible and bore a closer resemblance to turpentine, a fancy kind of toothpaste, and lots and lots of cotton in the form of balls, squares, and swabs. For someone who thought cotton belonged in clothing, the presence of so much of it in the bathroom was confounding. Who needed that much fluffy stuff in here? What in blazes did she use it for? His father, for his part, had demurred on answers to these questions. "She doesn't ask about your stuff, so you don't ask about hers," was his take on the subject. Perhaps his dad was less puzzled because he'd been married. Maybe his mom had had similar crap in the bathroom. Maybe it was good that he was seeing this now, so that when the time finally came that he was this close to an actual girlfriend, some of it would look at least vaguely familiar. Maybe…

The hand that was hovering over the various gewgaws on the bathroom counter froze as it neared the Kryptonite of the female universe. Of all the mysteries surrounding women, and God knew they were endless, none loomed larger than the "period". Periods scared the shit out of guys, largely because they didn't understand what was happening. Oh, they knew the biology part, body getting ready to have a baby which never showed up, etc, etc. It was the next part, the bleeding, which sent them into a tailspin. The notion that you would bleed for several days and have to collect it in some kind of receptacle was just downright gross. And there was more—rumor had it that chicks didn't know exactly when the bleeding would start, which would explain why so many of his classmates would emit little bleeps of alarm and run to the bathroom, clutching books in front of them like a guy with a hard-on. Add the fact that it looked like it was painful and you had the reason why largely non-religious dudes could be found thanking God that they weren't dudettes.

Kyle's eyes drifted toward the bathroom door. He shouldn't be touching Tess's stuff, but the lure was too strong. He'd walked by these things many times in stores, but it wouldn't do for a member of the football team to be found sniffing out tampons in store aisles. He was all alone now; there would never be a better time. His hand gripped the box, hesitating for a second as though expecting alarms to go off. When none did, he lifted it, examining it with equal parts fascination and horror. Tampax Radiant! shrieked a line of flowery script, accompanied by pink flowers and little starbursts. Super Absorbent! screamed another. Unscented! blared a third. What did all that mean? Did these things come in "not absorbent" and "smelly"? And how did bleeding for several days between your legs qualify as "radiant"? Bolder now that no lightening bolt had struck him dead, he popped the top open and peered inside, his eyes widening. There lay the holy grail, what every teenaged guy wanted to get his hands on--the paper insert which came with these things. It was said that it was full of very, very interesting photographs, way better than anything in National Geographic…

His heart thumping, Kyle withdrew the tightly folded paper and unfolded it. Multiple columns of tiny print swam before his eyes, accompanied by no photographs, just diagrams which depicted something seriously painful. Were these the instructions? Why so many? How many instructions did one need to do...well...whatever one did with these things? Was it really that hard? Disappointed to find no interesting photos, he read the first bit of the top paragraph:

Many teens have found that starting with their knees slightly bent is a very comfortable way to reach the vaginal area…

After periods, the next subject which sent guys round the bend was lady parts. Kyle dropped the box and the insert like hot potatoes; the paper fluttered to the floor, and the contents of the box splayed all over the counter. "Shit," he muttered, retrieving the paper and cramming the gaily wrapped, cylindrical packages back into the box, each brightly colored like some kind of demented party favor. But they didn't go back neatly, and he was forced to rearrange them one by one until he was left with one lone outlier and no place to put it. Frustrated, he stood there with a wildly pink package in one hand and the box in the other, trying to decide what to do. If he crammed it back in there, she'd know for sure that someone had been messing with her stuff; if he didn't, would she miss one? Did chicks count these things? Wouldn't it be better to leave the box looking neat and orderly like it had been? But then what would he do with the one left over? Could he...should he…no! The thought was preposterous. But then again, he'd come this far…

Quickly, before he lost his nerve, Kyle ripped open the cheerful hot pink wrapper and withdrew a cheerful, hot pink plastic cylinder with a star-shaped cut-out on the fat end. What, they stuck plastic inside themselves? He turned it this way and that, puzzled because hot pink plastic didn't look even remotely capable of absorbing anything before accidentally pushing on the narrower end, causing a wad of white cotton—more cotton?—to burst from the fatter end and hang there, dangling from a long thin string. Kyle stared at it in horror, feeling vaguely nauseous. Guys had only one action opening down there, and the thought of stuffing this in there and retrieving it with this little string was...okay, now there was nothing the least bit vague about his nausea.

Slam!

Crap. His father was home! Kyle crammed the cotton wad into his pocket, jamming in the string and plastic housing. He couldn't throw any of this out here and risk that someone would find it, so he'd have to take it to school and dispose of it there. Leaving aside the question of how a guy disposed of a tampon in the men's room, he hurried out of the bathroom and stopped dead in his tracks, gaping at the apparition by his front door. Isabel Evans was a stunner who probably looked GQ-ready in a bathrobe, and the dress she'd been wearing tonight had caused every single pair of male eyes at the party to stray south, with the possible exception of her brother. Now that dress was filthy and torn, her face and hands black with what looked like grease, her hair a mess...and the wild look in her eyes fit the scene perfectly.

"Holy shit!" Kyle exclaimed. "What happened to you?"

"Long story," Isabel said tightly.

"I'll bet," Kyle agreed. "You look like something out of Carrie, just without the pig's…" His voice trailed off as the front door opened and his father appeared, his arms laden. "...blood," Kyle finished faintly as his father carried a bruised and bloodied Tess inside followed by Max Evans and Michael Guerin.

"What happened to her?" Kyle demanded.

"Later," Evans said.

"Move," Guerin said curtly.

"Move yourself," Kyle said crossly. "This is my house."

Guerin swung around with murder in his eyes, but Evans but a hand on his arm. "Michael," he said firmly. "Kyle's not the enemy."

"No, he just has a big mouth," Guerin said.

"There's one thing we have in common," Kyle retorted.

"Would you two stop chatting and come over here?" Valenti said.

Evans pulled the glowering Guerin away. "What the hell happened?" Kyle asked Isabel. "Is Tess okay?"

"I think so," Isabel answered. "The alien who killed Nasedo kidnapped her, and...and somehow, I heard her calling for help. That's why I was having those headaches at the party."

"Jesus," Kyle muttered.

"We found her at an old electrical plant," Isabel went on. "And then the kidnapper showed up, and...things got a little messy."

"More than a little," Kyle noted. "So where is this alien now?"

"Dead," Isabel said shortly.

"Dad killed it?" Kyle asked.

Isabel's jaw twitched as the trio huddled around Tess shifted. "Let's get her into the bedroom," Valenti said, hoisting Tess in his arms like she was weightless. Everyone followed, watching as his father gently deposited her on the bed, stretched her out, and nodded to Max. "This okay?"

"Yeah, that's good," Evans answered. "Thanks."

His father left, as did Guerin and Isabel. Kyle lingered in the doorway of his bedroom, watching the battered figure on his bed and, oddly, not caring that blood was seeping into his bedspread. "Is she awake?" he asked.

Evans half turned. "Not really. Probably just as well."

"Is she going to be okay?"

"Yeah. In a bit."

Kyle pondered that for a moment. "You're going to fix her, aren't you? I mean, you can fix gunshots, so it makes sense you can fix this." He paused. "Can I watch?"

The words hung in the air as Evans stiffened. "I just...I didn't get to see how you do it," Kyle said, "and I was just curious…"

He stopped, suddenly aware that his request was making Evans acutely uncomfortable. "I'd...rather you didn't," Evans said awkwardly. "I don't like having an audience."

"Didn't you have one for Liz?" Kyle asked. "And me?"

Evans' eyes met his. "Yeah. That's how I know I don't like having an audience."

Kyle's eyes dropped. "Right. Got it. I guess I'll just...leave you to it, then."

Kyle closed the door, giving it that little extra tug you had to give it in order to get the door to latch. He waited outside for another minute, one ear to the door, but heard nothing; however Evans did what he did, he did it quietly. When he returned to the living room, his father was fidgeting, and Guerin and Isabel were having an argument.

"...have to go back," Guerin was saying. "It'll look weird if you don't."

"You expect me to just waltz back in there and party away like nothing happened?" Isabel demanded.

"Yes," Guerin said shortly. "Clean up, and go back."

"I said I needed to be alone," Isabel protested.

"Then be alone later," Guerin declared. "This is more important."

"Michael, there is no way I can process this in such a short time—"

"You don't have to," Guerin interrupted. "Party now, process later."

What a softy, Kyle thought dryly as he approached his father. "Dad? Isabel said something about Tess being kidnapped by an alien?"

"Yeah, that's right," his father answered.

"She said it was dead," Kyle went on. "Did you kill it?"

His father hesitated. Kyle's eyes darted to Guerin and Isabel, then to his bedroom door before coming to rest on his father. "Kyle, you have to understand, she was going to kill them," Valenti said urgently. "She was going to kill Tess and Isabel. It was kill or be killed. It was self defense. Everyone gets to defend themselves, no matter what species they are."

"Yeah, I get it," Kyle said. "Like Pierce was going to kill all of us."

"And did kill you," Valenti reminded him. "Guess no one's got a patent on monsters."

"Isabel's going back to the party," Guerin announced as Isabel looked daggers at him. "She needs a ride. Can you drive her, Sheriff?"

"I'm not going anywhere until I know Tess is okay," Valenti said.

"Neither am I," Guerin said. "What about you, Kyle? Can you take her back?"

"What's the magic word?" Kyle said innocently.

For a moment there, Kyle got the distinct impression that Guerin wanted to throttle him. "Can you please take her back?" he ground out after a moment.

"Why, certainly," Kyle said pleasantly. "Thanks for asking so politely."

Kyle left Guerin smoldering and his father rolling his eyes as he grabbed his keys and left the house, Isabel on his heels. "Okay, here's the deal," he said to her when they were out of earshot. "I was shamelessly eavesdropping; well, that and Guerin has a big mouth. I know you don't want to go back to the party. Where would you like to go?"

Isabel stared at him. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious. You just had shit go down, and no two-bit thug should be telling you how to handle it."

"Okay, Michael can be difficult, but he is not a 'two-bit thug'," Isabel protested.

"Fine," Kyle shrugged. "Three-bit."

"Kyle—"

"Four?"

"Kyle!" Isabel exclaimed. "He's not a thug! I know he has a mouth on him, but he does care. He just doesn't express it very well."

"That just might qualify as the understatement of the year," Kyle noted.

"Maybe," Isabel sighed, "but he's right. I should go back like nothing's happened because no one can know anything happened."

"But it should be your decision," Kyle said. "Tell me where you'd like to go, and I'll take you there. Assuming I can reach it, anyway. Might be best if you pick somewhere on this planet."

Isabel glanced back toward the house. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Are you kidding?" Kyle said. "There are four aliens in my house, and two of you almost just got offed by another one. What could possibly be more secret than that?"

Isabel smiled faintly, then climbed into his car, stuffing her filthy dress into the footwell. "Then let's go."

"Where to?" Kyle asked.

"The desert. I'll show you where. But you can't tell anyone. Especially Michael."

Kyle smiled. "Now you're talkin'."





**********************************************************





Crashdown Cafe






"Goodness gracious, what is taking her so long?" Diane exclaimed in exasperation, waving her phone in the air. "At this rate, she'll miss her own party!"

"Problem?" Dee asked.

"Yes, there's a 'problem'," Diane said crossly, "otherwise known as my daughter. So she spilled something on her dress! What's the big deal?"

Dee glanced at Anthony; if only Isabel's dilemma were as simple as a soiled dress. "That girl has a closet full of dresses," Diane went on, "maybe not as fancy as the one she was wearing, but pretty darn close. Can't she just pick one and get back here?"

"Wait, you actually talked to her?" Dee said. "She answered her phone?"

"Of course she answered her phone," Diane said impatiently. "Why wouldn't she? She said she was trying to decide on a replacement dress, and she should be back soon. If you ask me, she should have been back sooner. This is most discourteous to her guests..."

Anthony pulled Dee aside as Diane continued her rant. "She answered the phone," Anthony whispered. "That's good news. If she has the luxury of answering the phone, things can't be too bad."

"It's more than that," Dee said. "You know how Diane has a radar for her kids. If Isabel had picked up mid-crisis, Diane would have sensed something was wrong. Whatever happened must have already happened." She crossed her arms, looked impatiently at her watch. "It's been over an hour. I hate waiting. I've never been good at waiting."

"Tell me about it," Anthony remarked.

"This is the part where you say, 'No, dear, you're wonderful at waiting'," Dee said tartly.

"Go find Courtney," Anthony advised. "Maybe she's willing to fib."

Dee gave him an annoyed look which was met with a characteristic twinkle. She had often been praised for being strong and steady in a crisis, but the real winner of that award was her husband; he was not only strong and steady, he waited well. Anthony just wasn't the fretting type; he figured that once you'd done all you could to affect the outcome of whatever issue loomed at the moment, whatever was going to happen would happen, and that was the end of that. She'd never managed the trick of washing her hands of things, or even managed to feel she'd done all she could. Strongly suspecting this was a male/female divide, she followed his advice and sought out Courtney, who she found in the kitchen scraping plates.

"Diane just talked to Isabel," Dee reported. "She answered her phone, so things can't be too bad."

"Maybe not there," Courtney said darkly.

"What does that mean?" Dee asked. "Did something else happen?"

Courtney stopped scraping. "Remember when I went outside for a smoke? Rath found me. Yanked the cigarette right out of my mouth."

"It's not like Michael to care if someone smokes," Dee said.

"He didn't," Courtney said. "He'd searched Vanessa's office and found photos of me, one of which he helpfully shoved in my face."

"Oh, dear," Dee sighed. "So I gather you made something up?"

"Of course not!" Courtney said brightly. "I told him I'm an alien too, but I'm on his side and Vanessa isn't, and, oh, by the way, I'm slated to be his wife! Cool, huh?"

"Sarcasm," Dee muttered. "It's rampant around here."

"And there's a perfect example of the pot calling the kettle black," Courtney noted.

"What did you tell him?" Dee asked, praying for patience.

"What do you think?" Courtney demanded. "I made something up, something about screwing her stepson and going to jail."

"Dramatic, but convincing," Dee said. "So why are you so pissy?"

"Because I slapped him!" Courtney exclaimed.

"Slapped him?" Dee said, with a chuckle that died in her throat when Courtney looked daggers at her. "Okay, why did you slap him?"

"I didn't mean to," Courtney protested. "I had to make up something on the spot, and I was afraid he wouldn't buy it, but then he did, hook, line, and sinker, and I just...I don't know...lashed out. I was afraid he'd made me."

"This is Michael we're talking about," Dee said soothingly. "One slap won't do anything except maybe turn him on."

"You don't get it!" Courtney exclaimed. "Where I come from, you don't go around slapping members of the royal family!"

"Do I really need to point out that this isn't where you came from?" Dee asked.

"Do I really need to point out that the idea is to go back where I came from?" Courtney retorted. "Not to mention that I'm supposed to marry him. What if—"

"Oh, thank goodness! She's back!"

Dee and Courtney exchanged startled glances before hurrying to the kitchen door to find Diane welcoming Max and Michael. "Gracious, what took so long?" Diane asked. "Everyone's wondering where the birthday girl got to!"

"What do you mean?" Michael demanded. "Where's Isabel?"

Diane looked from one to the other in consternation. "I thought she was with you."

Michael looked at Max. "No," Max answered. "She's supposed to be here."

"Honestly, I don't understand what's taking so long," Diane protested. "The girl has a closet full of dresses. Just pick one, for heaven's sake!"

"Here I am!"

A breathless, but smiling Isabel appeared in the back doorway, followed by Kyle Valenti. "Sweetheart, finally!" Diane exclaimed. "But...that's the same dress! I thought you spilled something on it?"

"I did, but I got it out," Isabel said. "That's what took so long."

Diane gave her a perplexed look. "Why didn't you just pick another dress?"

"Because I like this one. Mom, we can stand here talking about my dress, or we can go back to the party," Isabel went on when Diane gave her the classic hands-on-hips, exasperated parent pose.

"All right, all right," Diane sighed. "Teenagers! I'll never understand them. At least you're back. People were beginning to wonder."

Diane retreated to the cafe, and Isabel moved to follow, but was stopped by Max's hand on her arm. "Where were you?" he asked.

"Yeah, you were coming straight here," Michael said. "How'd we get here first?"

"Beats me," Isabel shrugged. "Maybe you're slow. How's Tess?"

"She's fine," Max said. "And you're changing the subject."

Listening from the kitchen doorway, Dee's eyes narrowed; his voice was level, but the challenge in his tone was unmistakable. "Am I?" Isabel said archly. "And how exactly is Tess off-topic after what went down tonight?"

"You know what I mean," Max said. "Where were you?"

"None of your business," Isabel retorted.

Max looked at Kyle. "Where did you take her?"

"You heard the lady," Kyle answered. "MYOB."

"Answer him!" Michael ordered.

"Go to hell," Kyle said blandly.

Max put a hand on Michael's chest, holding him back as he walked straight up to Kyle. "I'll ask you again," Max said deliberately. "Where did you take her?"

"And I'll tell you again—mind your own fucking business," Kyle replied. "But I guess that would be 'MYOFB'." They paused, eye to eye for a moment before Kyle smiled. "What are gonna do, Evans? Kill me? Lotta that going around. Gonna leave another handprint? Gonna play to type?"

"Ouch," Courtney murmured.

"I've had enough of this," Dee whispered fiercely. Pushing the door open, she sailed out of the kitchen. "Isabel!" she exclaimed. "You're back! Are you all right, darling?"

"Grandma," Isabel breathed with obvious relief. "I...yes! I'm fine, my dress is saved, and...and I am so ready to party."

"I'm sure your mother is anxious to have her birthday girl back," Dee said. "You're Kyle, right?" she went on, ignoring the obvious stand-off still in progress between Kyle and Max. "Sheriff Valenti's son? I'm Isabel's grandmother, Dee Evans."

Dee extended a hand which Kyle could not shake until Max moved out of the way; he held his ground for a couple of seconds before doing so. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Evans," Kyle said, shaking her hand with his eyes on Max. "Wow, two Mrs. Evans. I'm gonna get so confused."

"I'm sure the kids can set you straight," Dee said. "Right, Max?"

"Right," Max said tightly.

"Michael, dear, you look upset," Dee commented. "Anything wrong?"

Michael's eyes dropped. "No."

"Yes," Max corrected, his eyes swinging to his sister. "I want to know where you were, Isabel."

"Later," Isabel said.

"Now," Max ordered.

Dee's eyebrows rose. "What's this?"

"Max is just being a busybody," Isabel said lightly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to my—"

"No," Max interrupted flatly, "you are not excused. Not until you tell me where you were."

"Max, what's going on?" Dee asked.

"Grandma, I know you mean well," Max said, his eyes on Isabel, "but this really doesn't concern you. Go back to the party. We'll join you in a minute."

"Don't you take that tone with me, young man," Dee said sharply. "I'll be the judge of what 'concerns' me, thank you very much. And since when do you give me orders? Since never, that's when! What's gotten into you?"

There followed a collective, inaudible gasp as Max's eyes snapped to hers and, for a moment, Dee saw a very different person reflected in their depths. A moment later that person was gone, replaced by a startled teen who'd just been verbally swatted. "I...I didn't mean…"

"I'm not entirely clear what you meant," Dee said tartly, "nor convinced I want to know. What I do know is that your sister has been through enough tonight without you adding to her burden. What she needs now is a supportive brother, not the third degree. Am I making myself clear?"

Four pairs of eyes widened, three in alarm, one with interest, as three hybrids and Kyle Valenti took that to mean just exactly what it did. "What do you mean?" Michael asked suspiciously. "What's Isabel 'been through'?

Dee waited several excruciating seconds before putting them out of their misery. "Isn't it obvious? She was going on a date, which was interrupted by a surprise birthday party, which was further interrupted by a soiled dress. Let her get back to her party, for heaven's sake! Isn't that why you arranged it for her in the first place? So she could enjoy it?"

Three sighs escaped as three hybrids relaxed, their secret ostensibly safe. "Thank you, Grandma," Isabel whispered, planting a kiss on her cheek. "C'mon, Kyle; let's go party."

"Always willing to party," Kyle noted, flashing a smile at Michael which went unreturned as they pushed past.

"Well?" Dee demanded when Max and Michael didn't budge. "What are you waiting for? Join them! You're only young once! Hurry up before I come up with more platitudes!"

Michael smiled faintly, but left. Max lingered a moment longer, giving her a chastened look before loping after Michael. Courtney came out of the kitchen, shaking her head as the door to the cafe swung closed behind him.

"What in the name of God was all that?" Dee said in exasperation.

" 'That' was a king who wasn't getting his way," another voice answered.

Dee spun around to find Brivari watching them. "What just happened?" she demanded. "I have never seen Max like that."

"I have," Brivari said. "Many times."

Cheers and applause erupted from the cafe, a sharp contrast to the silence in the back. "Brivari," Dee said slowly, "what happened out there?"

"Are they the same people they once were, or different people altogether? That has always been our biggest argument," Brivari said, "and tonight I was forced to concede you were right because I, too, saw things I have never seen. But it turns out we were both right. They are different people in some respects, but what you just saw...that I'm all too familiar with. That's a powerful man who's accustomed to forcing his will on others. That's a brother who drove his sister into her lover's arms when he insisted on an engagement to a man she didn't want to marry."

"And that's what sent the dominoes falling," Courtney added sadly. "What you just saw is what wrecked our world."

"I'll wreck him if I ever see that again," Dee said furiously. "He's always been so protective of Isabel! I've never heard him take that tone with her, and if I hear it again, I'll personally knock him into the middle of next week!"

"I don't have that luxury," Brivari said.

"Then who does?" Dee demanded. "Or did? Who tells him when he's being a jackass? Anyone? No one?"

"His second and his wife," Brivari answered, "not necessarily in that order. His mother, although to a much lesser extent; she takes more of a supportive role. And I certainly tried, for all the good it did me."

"Let me guess," Dee said darkly. "He ordered you to be silent."

"Zan never 'ordered' me to do anything," Brivari answered, "which is why I took his abuse of that power so hard. But that doesn't mean he listened. Any criticism I offered, no matter how diplomatically couched, was seen as suspect. He saw me as someone who always compared him to his father, and found him wanting...and not without merit. He had a point." He paused. "I need to keep an eye out for any reinforcements Vanessa may have called in. I'd appreciate it if you would both do the same."

"I'll call you if I see anyone familiar," Courtney said.

"Please tell me Vanessa's dead," Dee said. "You killed her, right?"

"Vanessa is quite dead," Brivari answered, "but I didn't kill her. Vilandra did."

Dee stared at him in shock. "Isabel? Isabel killed her?"

"The princess?" Courtney crowed. "Oh, that is sweet! Khivar's squeeze killed Vanessa! Only thing better would have been if she'd killed Nicholas. God, that is freaking poetic!"

"I doubt she saw it that way," Brivari noted. "You should know that before she died, Vanessa provided quite the history lesson. If I were you, I'd expect a visitor in the near future, Deanna. You're likely her first stop when the magnitude of what she was told sinks in."

He left as Dee stared after him in dismay. "Does that mean what I think it means?" she whispered. "Did Vanessa tell Isabel…"

"That she brought a planet down?" Courtney finished. "Sounds like. And if she did...well, let's just say she'll probably need more than just a 'visit'." She paused. "Know any shrinks?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



I'll post Chapter 37 on Sunday, September 20.

Still laughing over Kyle's version of Tess' bathroom articles. Poor boy needed to have a sister.
This was good to see what Kyle thought about the birthday party.
Great part,
Carolyn

Kyle is priceless!!!

I always wondered why Max took so long to go to Tess. He has this long conversation with Isabel while the girl is bleeding on the car... But nice turn with Kyle getting Isabel to the Pod Chamber!!

And nice way of getting Max out of King Zan's shadow. It's an interesting duality to play with. How much of their old selves bleeds into their new selves?

Misha

keepsmiling7 wrote:Still laughing over Kyle's version of Tess' bathroom articles. Poor boy needed to have a sister.

He did. My husband didn't have a sister, and he had a lot of the same questions.

Misha wrote:But nice turn with Kyle getting Isabel to the Pod Chamber!!

One of the enduring mysteries of Roswell, how Isabel got to the pod chamber that night and what happened to her party! Not to mention the enduring mystery of how she got through that electrical plant without a wardrobe malfunction or up to the pod chamber in that dress. I left those last two to the imagination.

And nice way of getting Max out of King Zan's shadow.

Thank you, but it was too easy. Just have his grandmother drag him out of that shadow, by the hair if necessary.






CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN




September 18, 2000, 12:15 a.m.

West Roswell High School






The lid of the school's dumpster clattered shut as Kyle Valenti disposed of the feminine hygiene product he'd so stupidly opened earlier this evening when all he'd had to worry about was a mother-chaperoned, i.e. boring, birthday party and a girly invasion of his bachelor pad. Now that invader lay bloodied and bruised on his bed, the victim of an alien kidnapper, and he seemed hopelessly shallow for resenting the panties hanging on the shower rod. Now his sideways oogling of the prettiest Barbie doll in school seemed pervy after watching said Barbie doll, also bloodied and bruised, fling off her shoes and climb a rock formation so huge, he was grateful he'd been left in the car. Oh, for those halcyon days of simple adolescence where the worst things that happened to you were public hard-ons and zits. Although it should be noted that the night's festivities had given him an excuse to tell Max Evans and Michael Guerin to fuck off. It was sweet little moments like that which made life worth living.

Climbing into his car, Kyle headed home. The party had broken up just a few minutes ago, with the mom-bot going on about tomorrow being a school day and how no one was supposed to have been here this late. Seriously, did she think kids tucked in early on Sunday nights? At least Isabel had seemed to enjoy herself while her brother had remained suitably chastised, bitch slapped by a tart-tongued grandmother he would have openly applauded if he'd thought he'd live through it. He had no idea what was so secret about their visit to the desert or the twenty or so minutes Isabel had been gone while he waited in the car, gazing up at the rocket-launcher-style rocks and marveling at how he, star high school athlete though he was, was deeply grateful to be spared scaling them. All he knew is that Isabel had been through some kind of hell tonight, and if she didn't want to tell her nosy brother what she'd done, she didn't have to. Part of that was because he wasn't going to pass up an opportunity to piss off Max Evans and Guerin. Part of that was because it wasn't a bad idea to have the gratitude of the most gorgeous girl in school. But a large part of it was because no one, not anyone, got to stick their nose into someone else's business the way Evans had. That was just not cool no matter what species you were.

He found his father sitting in the living room nursing a Scotch, his pistol in his lap. "You okay?" Kyle asked warily.

"Sure," his dad said. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, for starters, you're drinking with one finger on the trigger," Kyle answered. "And you're just sitting here. The TV isn't even on."

"An alien tried to kill Tess and Isabel tonight," Valenti said. "I'm just being cautious. And I didn't want to get distracted. I don't want to die watching The Price is Right."

"That would suck," Kyle agreed. "I thought they got the guy...girl...whatever...who did it."

"They did," Valenti agreed. "But there could be more of them."

"And you think Scotch and bullets will bring'em down? You're like this poster boy for everything we're not supposed to do."

"Not everything," Valenti noted. "I'm not running with scissors."

Kyle relaxed, confident now that his Dad still had all his marbles. "So how's Tess?"

"Sleeping. How was the party?"

"Oh, great," Kyle said, flopping onto the couch. "Just great if you think birthday parties need Mother Superiors harping at you to sit up straight, eat your vegetables, and watch your mouth."

Valenti smiled faintly. "I gather Diane Evans was something of a buzzkill?"

" 'Something'?" Kyle echoed. "Call Webster's and tell them we have a new definition for the word. Parents should be banned from birthday parties, especially 18th birthday parties."

"Point taken," Valenti said. "Does this mean I don't have to get you a present?"

"Nothing relieves you of the obligation to get me a present," Kyle said seriously. "Preferably several."

"What did you get Isabel?"

"A CD," Kyle answered. "Way better than all the clothes and jewelry and make-up and shit that everyone else gave her."

"What if she likes that 'shit'?" Valenti said. "Although I imagine it was hard to like much of anything tonight."

"I'll admit that being chased by murderous aliens is even more of a buzzkill than a roving mom-bot," Kyle allowed, "but I think she had a good time. After we dispensed with that jackass of a brother of hers, that is."

Valenti's features clouded. "Something happen with Max?"

"Yes, Dad, something 'happened' with Max. Max is a dick. Period. End of discussion."

Valenti swirled his Scotch. "He's in a tough spot, Kyle. He's got a lot on his plate."

"Yeah, well, he had more on his plate than he should have," Kyle said. "You see, Isabel didn't want me to take her directly to the Crashdown; she wanted to go somewhere else first. And when she didn't want to tell her brother where we'd gone, he got in her face. And when he found out I'd promised her I wouldn't tell, he got in mine."

"Hoo boy," Valenti muttered.

"But then he made the mistake of getting in his grandmother's face," Kyle continued, "and she smacked him into the middle of next Tuesday. That was sweet. Wouldn't mind having that on video so I could rewind and play as many times as I want."

"Which grandmother was this?"

"She said her name was 'Dee Evans'. And I said I was gonna get confused with two Mrs. Evans...wait," Kyle said when his father smiled broadly. "Do you know her?"

"No," Valenti said quickly. "I just...I know his father can be a piece of work, so it's not surprising the apple wouldn't fall far from the tree."

"More like straight down," Kyle agreed. "For a minute there when she was bitching him out, it sounded like she knew. You know…knew. Everybody, like, stopped breathing, but then it turned out she didn't. And I was thinking, how cool would that be if it turned out Evans' grandmother knew what he was?"

" 'Who'," Valenti corrected. "They're not 'what', they're 'who'. So where did Isabel want to go?"

"Nuh uh! I'm not supposed to tell!" Kyle admonished. "But...come to think of it, she didn't tell me not to tell you, just Max and Michael. So...we went to the desert."

"The desert?"

"Yeah, to some gigundo pile of rocks. I waited in the car while she climbed up. In bare feet."

"Huh," Valenti murmured.

"She was gone about twenty minutes, and then she came back down," Kyle went on. "What was that all about?"

Valenti shook his head. "No idea."

"So then she gets in the car and says to go back to the Crashdown, and she was still a mess—all dirty and sweaty, her dress ripped up and so on. But when we got there, she was all cleaned up. She was sitting right next to me in the car doing alien voodoo, and I didn't even feel it. And the worst part was, that was all I could think about. I mean, I've got the most gorgeous girl in school in my car. Do you have any idea how many guys would kill to be in that position? And all I can think about is, how did she do that? When did she do that? Why didn't I notice her doing that? And then I start to wonder if maybe something's wrong with me, because what self-respecting guy would think, 'Wow, her dress is clean!' when you've got a rack like that only inches away…"

Kyle's voice trailed off as his father tried—and failed—to suppress a smile. Shit. He'd done it again. Oversharing was always embarrassing, but it was downright humiliating when done with one's parents. "There's nothing wrong with you, Kyle," his father said. "It's not a bad thing to be thinking with your head instead of your—"

"Stop!" Kyle commanded, cutting his dad off mid-sentence. "We are not having this conversation."

"Seems like we are," Valenti observed.

"No, we're not," Kyle insisted.

"Why not? So you showed some maturity. Is that a bad thing?"

"Maturity is for old people," Kyle declared. "People who are uptight and don't have any fun. People like mom-bots."

"Then I guess you don't have anything to worry about," Valenti said. "You just told me you had fun watching Max's grandmother take him to task."

"Not the kind of fun I was talking about," Kyle muttered.

"Yeah, I know what kind of 'fun' you were talking about," Valenti chuckled. "Where do you think you came from? K-Mart?"

"Dad!" Kyle exclaimed as one of the most frightening things in the teenage universe reared its ugly head, even more frightening than feminine hygiene products—the thought of old people making out. "I said, we're not having this conversation!"

"So stop having it," Valenti shrugged. "You're the one who keeps talking."

"I am not!" Kyle protested.

"Just to be clear, which conversation is it that we're not having, exactly?" Valenti went on innocently. "The one about alien voodoo, or Isabel Evans' impressive assets, or you not thinking with your dick?"

"Dad!" Kyle exclaimed, practically springing off the couch. "Would you...would you just...oh, never mind," he finished in exasperation. "I'm gonna go see Tess."

"Sure," Valenti said, gesturing in the direction of what used to be his room. "Just out of curiosity, does she get to have this conversation?"

Kyle felt the blood drain from his face. "Oh, God, do not tell her I said...oh, shit, if she hears that, she'll tell Isabel, and then..."

His father held up a hand to stem the tide of panic. "Relax. Your libido is—"

"Jesus, not the 'L' word," Kyle groaned.

"—safe with me," Valenti finished. "Go see Tess before you burst a blood vessel. Or add something else to this conversation we're not having."





********************************************************





Crashdown Cafe






"Thank you so much for coming," Isabel said. "It was so special to have so many friends show up for my birthday. I had a great time! Good night!"

A remarkably chilly wind wafted through the Crashdown's door as, one by one, her party guests departed in a kind of backwards receiving line. Isabel shivered, partly because of her bare shoulders and partly because the events of the night were only just beginning to sink in. It was something of a godsend that what she'd discovered was mercifully crowding out thoughts of what she'd supposedly done in that other life, rumination on that being best saved for later. She'd entered that pod chamber in a right royal snit, sweaty, disheveled and thoroughly fed up, and left it in a daze, stunned into silence. Kyle, for his part, had been a trooper, asking no questions either before or after his long wait in the car while she clambered up the rock face and politely not noticing when she cleaned up and fixed her dress enroute to the party. She'd actually cheered when he'd picked a fight with her nosy brother, and part of her had wanted to accept his offer to drive her home. But she had amends to make to the guests she'd abandoned for a couple of hours, albeit for a worthy cause, and besides, this was her party. You only got one 18th birthday, even if your birthdate was fictitious.

"Hey. Happy Birthday, Isabel."

"Alex," Isabel whispered, fighting a sudden rush of tears which she covered by enveloping him in a fierce hug. "Thank you."

"Wow...okay," Alex said awkwardly, gingerly returning the embrace. "You're welcome. But...what for? I think your mom wants to kill me."

Isabel pulled away, cupping his face in her hands. "For making me laugh. For daring to do something crazy that I'll remember as long as I live."

"You and your mom," Alex noted bleakly. "She managed to hiss out a goodbye, but she had to work at it."

"Forget her," Isabel said. "You did that for me, and you made me laugh like...like I haven't laughed in a really, really long time. And I needed that tonight, Alex. You have no idea how much I needed that."

Alex's expression softened. "If it made you laugh, I'd do it all over again. Even at a PTA meeting."

Isabel burst out laughing. "You know, I might take you up on that."

"Please don't," Alex said with feeling. " 'Night, Isabel."

Alex was the last of the partygoers, and as the door closed behind him, a hush descended over the now sparsely populated cafe. Isabel's departing wave to him was interrupted by a tsk sound behind her.

"Mother, don't even start," Isabel commanded.

"What he did was highly inappropriate for a young lady's birthday party," Diane sniffed.

"Well, I'm the 'young lady' in question, and I thought it was funny," Isabel said.

"I didn't," Diane noted rather unnecessarily.

"And why should you?" Isabel said. "This was my party. Alex did that for me. It had nothing to do with you."

"It most certainly did," Diane declared. "I'm paying for it, aren't I?"

"Fine, add up the bill, and I'll reimburse you," Isabel said.

"With what?" Diane asked. "You don't have a job—"

"I'll get one. I'll get two, if I have to, if it means you leave my friends alone."

Diane stared at her in astonishment as Isabel glared at her, tight-lipped and unyielding. "Honey, I don't want you to pay for your own birthday party, but is it too much to expect a certain level of behavior? Questionable entertainment, keeping everyone waiting while you fussed over your dress—"

"I apologized to each and every one of them," Isabel reminded her.

"And I'll have to apologize to Jeff," Diane said. "It shouldn't have gone this late, especially on a school night."

"It's not that late," Isabel objected. Do you really think everyone my age goes to bed this early? They'll be up for at least a couple of hours, probably more. The only difference is they were up here instead of there."

"Isabel, you've become entirely too cavalier," Diane scolded. "You keep your guests waiting, have secret assignations with an older man—"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Mom, it was just a date!" Isabel said in exasperation. "And what's so secret about meeting at the Crashdown? This is the Grand Central Station of Roswell!"

"Stop interrupting me, young lady," Diane said sternly. "I told you earlier we needed to have a talk, and—"

"And what?" Isabel demanded. "I'm 18, Mom! That makes me old enough to vote, to join the Army, even to get married. If I can get married without your say-so, I think I can have a single date without having you sign a permission slip."

"You're not 18 yet," Diane admonished. "You've still got a few more weeks—"

"Fine," Isabel said flatly. "Since you're into splitting hairs, Grant and I will resume our interrupted date on my official birthday. Happy?"

"No, of course not," Diane protested. "I just want you to be safe—"

"Safe?" Isabel repeated incredulously. "Safe? What, you think Grant isn't 'safe'? Oh, that's hilarious! Do you even know what 'safe' means? Do you even—"

Isabel stopped, suddenly conscious of the fact that her voice was rising with each passing syllable as a different kind of chill settled over the cafe, the kind that didn't need an open door. In the background, Maria, Liz, and Courtney studiously continued cleaning, doing their best to pretend they couldn't hear, while Max and Michael didn't bother pretending. "I think we should continue this conversation tomorrow," Isabel said coldly. "I'm just too tired and too upset with you right now to be civil."

"You can't just walk away from this," her mother protested. "You act like being 18 allows you to do whatever you want, but that's not what adulthood is, believe me. And 18 doesn't get you everything—you still can't drink, or own a gun, or—"

"I don't drink," Isabel said flatly. "And if I wanted to hurt someone, I wouldn't need a gun. Good night, Mom."

Leaving her mother open-mouthed with astonishment, Isabel swept away to the gifts table where Liz and Maria were packing up her presents. "I...think we got them all," Liz said awkwardly, with many a glance in her mother's direction. "And we boxed up the rest of the cake so you could take it home."

"Thanks," Isabel said tightly. "I won't be needing this one," she added, pulling out the alien doll. "I don't keep 'gifts' from people who try to kill me."

Maria's eyes widened. "You mean Whitaker gave you that? That is just sick!"

"Would you like us to load them into the jeep for you?" Liz asked.

"Sure," Isabel said. "Thanks."

And now they all think I'm crazy, Isabel thought as Maria and Liz started stacking gifts, sending sidelong glances her way as though afraid she would explode. Across the room, Grandma Dee was engaged in what looked like a lively discussion with her mother and Courtney was wiping down tables. Another headache was creeping up the back of her neck, mercifully a regular one this time. She'd already taken enough Tylenol to shrivel her liver, so maybe she should try aspirin…

"Was that directed at me?"

Isabel sighed as Max appeared beside her. "Was what directed at you?"

"That tantrum," Max said. "About how you're 18 and can do whatever you want."

" 'A', that's not what I said, 'B', it wasn't a tantrum, it was a disagreement, and 'C', it was 'directed' at Mom," Isabel said crossly. "And 'D', if I had something to say to you—and I don't—I'd say it to you, not add it to a conversation with someone on the other side of the room. Despite what you seem to think, Max, not everything is about you."

Max looked stricken for a moment. "Iz, I'm really sorry about the way I acted earlier. I was just worried about you. We nearly lost you and Tess, and then you went missing again. And when you weren't here, I just..."

"I really don't need a recap," Isabel said. "I have vivid memories of you acting like a jerk."

"I said I was sorry," Max reminded her. "Several times."

"Then just keep saying it, because for some odd reason, I still don't get the impression that you are."

"But I am," Max insisted. "Wherever you were, it's your business."

"Got that right," Isabel muttered.

"But whatever Whitaker said to you, that's our business," Max said.

"What do you mean?" Isabel asked suspiciously.

"You said she 'said things'," Max reminded her. "About...I don't remember the word. Something I hadn't heard before. Do you remember?"

Yes. "No," Isabel answered. "I mean, I don't know. It's all a blur. I need some time to process it."

"Okay," Max agreed. "But if there's anything in there that could help us, don't take too long. We know Nasedo was right—we do have enemies, and they're here. They killed him, and they almost killed you and Tess. I don't want anyone else to go down because you were…'processing'."

Oh, sure, Isabel thought darkly as Max walked away. How very like him to cloak his desire to know in a mantle of guilt flung over her shoulders. If she wasn't prepared to share what she'd found in the pod chamber, although they'd certainly find it themselves if they went there, she was even less prepared to share what Whitaker had said.

Your name was Vilandra, and you were beautiful. You had a great love and for him...for us...you betrayed your brother, your race. You sacrificed everyone...even yourself.

"You okay?"

It was Courtney, hovering worriedly. "Yeah, I'm...I'm good," Isabel said.

"You're shivering," Courtney said. "Do you have a coat? I can get it for you."

"No, no, I'm...just tired," Isabel said, which was certainly the truth. "It's been a long night."

"I'll bet," Courtney said. "Maybe it's time to go home and sleep it off. Bring the long night to an end."

"Good idea," Isabel agreed. "Thanks for working the party. Good night."

God, I'm paranoid, Isabel groaned as Courtney left. It always sounded like people knew exactly what had happened even though they couldn't; it had happened with Grandma, and now Courtney. Definitely time to close her eyes for awhile, away from murderous aliens, nosy brothers, and annoying parents. She'd tell them what she'd found in the pod chamber, but only after they'd stewed for awhile. As for the rest of it, that could wait.

Forever, if necessary.





********************************************************






Valenti residence






Kyle hurried away from his chuckling father, his face burning. Had he really just commented on Isabel's jugs in front of his father? What had he been thinking? I wasn't, he thought ruefully. He was just running off at the mouth, heedless of his audience. Tonight marked the first time he was grateful there was someone else in the house, giving him an excuse to retreat that actually made sense instead of something lame like homework or studying for a test, not that anyone would have believed that anyway. He found Tess curled on his bed under a blanket, her blonde hair splayed across the pillow, and he waited awkwardly in the doorway for a few seconds, which was weird because this was, you know, his room.

"Hey."

The hair shifted. "Hey," it said dully.

"You feeling better?" Kyle asked.

The hair shrugged. "I'm alive."

"You say that like it's a bad thing. Last I checked, being alive was good." Kyle paused. "So what the hell happened?"

Tess rolled over. "Can we not talk about that right now?"

"Sure. Whatever," Kyle nodded, recently familiar with forbidden subjects. "So what do we talk about?"

Tess thought for a moment. "Isabel's party. What did I miss?"

"Well," Kyle said, settling on the end of the bed, "you missed Alex Whitman playing traffic cop."

Tess propped herself up on one elbow. "What's this?"

"He was giving Isabel a birthday present," Kyle said. "You might say he wrapped himself up. And then unwrapped himself."

"I...don't understand," Tess said.

"You and me both," Kyle assured her. "He did a striptease."

Tess responded with a gratifying jaw drop. "Wait…what?"

"A striptease," Kyle repeated. "You know, where you take off your clothes?"

"I know what a striptease is," Tess said. "But Alex? Little Alex?"

"He's not exactly 'little'," Kyle noted. "Guy's a stroke."

"You know what I mean," Tess said. "Did he actually take off his clothes?"

"Yeah," Kyle said. "Well, some of them. His hat, his shirt, his belt. And I think he would have taken off more if Mrs. Evans hadn't gaped like a fish and wagged her finger like a nun. Parents only belong at family birthday parties; you know, the ones you're forced to go to with Uncle Nestor and Great Aunt Sue. The kind where everyone asks you what you want to be when you grow up while they pinch your cheek and you try not to bite them."

"No, I don't know," Tess said. "I never had a party like that. I never had any kind of party."

"Any kind? You mean you didn't celebrate your birthday?"

"Nasedo wasn't exactly big on 'human festivals', as he called them," Tess said. "And I don't have a birthday, not really."

"Everyone has a birthday," Kyle protested. "You weren't born this size, were you? You must have been...wait. How exactly did you get here? Carrier pigeon?"

"We came out of pods," Tess said patiently. "Great big sacs of fluid," she elaborated when Kyle looked blank. "We looked like little kids then, and we grew up like everyone else."

" 'Great big sacs of fluid'," Kyle repeated. "Gross."

"It's what you came out of too," Tess noted, "just bigger. And we weren't inside a woman—"

"Can we not go there?" Kyle interrupted. "I just had the worst visuals from my Dad, and I really don't need any more."

"Sensitive, aren't we?" Tess teased. "But give Isabel's mom a break. At least she has a mom who cares about her. I'd love one of those."

"I thought you'd all heard from your mom," Kyle said. "Something about a recording left for you."

"That was Isabel and Max's mom," Tess said, "not mine, or Michael's. I have no idea who my mom was."

"Bummer," Kyle said. "If it's any consolation, I know who mine is, but I never see her."

"Why not?"

Kyle shrugged. "Nasty divorce."

"She divorced your father," Tess said. "You can't divorce your own kid."

Kyle's eyes dropped. "Actually...I think she did."

"Oh," Tess said faintly. "I'm sorry."

"Guess we both have screwed up families," Kyle said.

"Guess so," Tess allowed.

There followed a long, awkward silence. "So are you gonna tell me what happened?" Kyle said finally.

"I told you," Tess said, "I don't want to—"

"Talk about it right now," Kyle finished. "But it's not 'right now' any more; we've jawed for at least five minutes."

Tess raised an eyebrow. "Literal much?"

"I just can't help wondering about what could have happened to make you say, 'I'm alive' like it's the booby prize," Kyle said. "And I say that as a guy who was dead, for a few minutes at least. Dad says Nasedo's murderer is dead, and all of you got out alive. What's not to like?"

Tess picked at the bedspread for a moment before heaving a heavy sigh. "Fine. I was on my way to pick up Isabel's present when she ran me off the road. And then—"

"Wait, 'she'? A chick did this?"

"Yes, 'she'," Tess said with a pained expression. "And then I woke up tied to chair. She must have knocked me out. The last thing I remember was rolling my window down when she came over to the car."

"And then what?"

"And then she tried to get me to call Isabel, make her come to me. And I wouldn't." Tess winced. "I was so stupid. I thought I could fight her."

"Yeah, why didn't you?" Kyle said. "I mean, didn't you have your...you know, your…"

"My death ray eyes?" Tess said dryly. "Nope. She had something that blocked my powers. It also blocked hers, but I was tied up and she wasn't. So when I wouldn't call Isabel, she decided to use pain as a motivator."

"Ouch," Kyle murmured.

"Exactly," Tess agreed. She flopped back on the bed, looking at the ceiling. "I thought I was stronger. All my life, Nasedo prepared me for just this kind of thing. I was even thinking that I was glad it was me who was captured because I was the best one to handle it...and then I just caved. It hurt so much, I just…" She paused, looking deeply uncomfortable. "Then she left, and I thought, maybe I can call Isabel. Not on the phone, but with my mind, I mean. Isabel contacted Max that way when he was captured, so maybe I could do it too? So I called and called, hoping Isabel would hear me."

"Sounds like she did," Kyle said. "It worked."

"You don't get it," Tess said wearily. "I led them right into it! I shouldn't have done that!"

"You shouldn't have called for help? Why not?"

"Because it put the rest of them in danger too," Tess said. "I should have just taken it and kept her busy so she stayed away from the Others. I should have protected them."

"Protected them how?" Kyle said. "She already knew who Isabel was. And even if she didn't know who Max and Michael were, she could have figured it out pretty fast. So what's to stop her killing you and then going after the rest of them? What happens if they don't even know you were grabbed and have no idea what's coming? You at least had to tell them something was wrong so they'd know to keep their eyes open."

Tess digested that in silence for a moment before shaking her head. "You're supposed to be nodding and saying, 'Yeah, you're right', not trying to make me feel better."

"News flash—I rarely do what I'm supposed to," Kyle said. "Just ask Dad."

"Don't think I need to," Tess said.

"Look, feel guilty if you want that you weren't Wonder Woman, but I say the hot pants and crown look is outdated, even if she was built like a brick outhouse," Kyle said. "You all brought down a killer tonight. And you're not the only one who's rattled; Isabel was pretty rattled too, but she kept her shit together. From where I sit, alien chicks rock."

Tess smiled faintly. "Okay, maybe you can try to make me feel better. Just a little."





**********************************************************






Copper Summit, Arizona







"Well?" Nicholas demanded. "Do you have her?"

Greer shifted uncomfortably behind him. "No. She's gone."

" 'Gone'? What do you mean, 'gone'?"

" 'Gone' as in 'we can't find her," Greer clarified. "She's not at her hotel or her office, and she's not answering her phone or her communicator." He paused. "Sir, we really should consider all the possibilities. Vanessa may have made a pact with the Resistance for protection, or she may have gone underground; as a highly trained operative, she certainly has the skills to melt into human society and effectively disappear."

"Aren't you forgetting one 'possibility'?" Nicholas said. "She was pushing a 'treaty' with the Royals. Maybe they're hiding her."

"The very notion of a 'treaty' is mind-boggling," Greer said darkly, "but if she stood to gain, I suppose anything is possible. Are you quite sure you've told me everything she said?"

"Of course I'm sure," Nicholas said crossly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well...you haven't mentioned why she went to Roswell in the first place," Greer pointed out. "It's an odd destination given that it's highly unlikely they'd go back there. If you can recall any details, any at all that would help us—"

"She went to Roswell because that's where Daniel Fucking Pierce went," Nicholas snapped. "And I don't keep track of all the drivel; I only keep track of results, something everyone seems to have way too much trouble providing these days. First her, now you...isn't there anyone who can actually get something done around here? Find her. And if she really is making deals with the Royals, I promise you, I'll kill her myself."

"If she really is making deals with the Royals," Greer said soberly, "you may be too late."



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



I'll post Chapter 37 on Sunday, October 4.