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“Storm Front”

Story by Shira

 Written by Amy, Kristin, Jeslyn, Liz, and Shira

Edited by Lisa, Lizzy, Mark, and Tiff

 

 

 

Playlist:

1.  “Crazy Beat” by Blur

2.  “Calling All Angels” by Train

3.  “As Is” by Ani DiFranco

4.  “Stupid Girl” by Cold

 

 

 

 

1.

 

“Go!” Agent Colton directed, watching as one of his agents kicked the door in.  Half a dozen agents followed the first into the apartment, guns drawn.  They moved stealthily through the rooms, kicking in bedroom doors and ripping the closets open, searching for any form of life

 

“All clear!” boomed a voice loud enough for the entire team to hear. 

 

The leader put his government issued gun in its sheath.  “Secure the perimeter.” 

 

“Yes sir.”

 

“Franks. Close the blinds.”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

Colton looked around the room carefully, loosening his bulletproof vest.  With hesitation, he pulled a pair of rubber gloves out of his pocket and put them on.  Walking over to the end table, he pulled out the drawer and looked in it, before quickly dumping its contents on the floor. 

 

“Go through everything.  Take anything that looks suspicious.  We need all the information we can get,” Colton instructed, mentally going through the inventory of what they already had in their possession.  The list included files that the group had removed from James Atherton’s house years ago, but that didn’t tell them much.  It had been years since they had a break like this, and he was thrilled.  He felt himself quickly sliding into the position of Special-Agent-In-Charge of the entire special unit.

 

His team combed every inch of the apartment.  They cleared out the kitchen cabinets throwing dishes across the floor, spreading shards of glass and broken porcelain in every direction.  Knife blades ripped through the sofas and chairs as they searched, the entrails heaped into the middle of the room.  Papers flew askew as an agent went through Jesse’s desk looking for anything of importance, flinging the useless items into a pile.

 

In the back room, the bedclothes were removed and the mattresses shredded.  Clothes flew in every direction as drawers were pulled from the safety of their bureaus and shaken upside-down.  All of the travel bags were tipped on end, dumping their contents everywhere.

 

“Jackpot!” A voice called from the farthest bedroom.

 

Colton rushed in, followed by the other suits.  In the middle of the floor among a pile of other items from various bags and drawers were two silver oblong spheres.  “That symbol is in the files,” he mumbled as they all simply stared. 

 

“Right, okay… you,” he pointed to the man next to him, “put these in one of the metal boxes.”  There was no way he was going to touch anything if he could help it.  Who knew what these objects were or what they could do to a human?

 

The agent hesitated for a moment before reaching down.  With a shaky, latex covered hand he picked up the orbs, one at a time.  The tension in the room diminished as both orbs were safely placed into the metal box and the lid securely closed. 

 

Colton picked up the box, carrying it back to the main hallway.  “Keep looking!”  He ordered. 

 

The agents wasted no time, leaving him to take inventory of the damage in the living area around him before he stepped forward into the center of the room.  “Conway!” he called.

 

A younger agent turned quickly from the loose sheet of wallpaper his knife was slicing through to receive his orders.  The superior simply pointed towards the kitchen, staring up at the light fixture on the ceiling.  Conway followed the direction of the finger to a wooden chair and moved it to where his Assistant Special Agent in Charge stood. 

 

Colton adjusted the chair before stepping up onto it.  He pulled a small screwdriver from a kit he carried his inside flak vest pocket, carefully removing the light fixture from the ceiling.  After inserting a tiny black microphone into the wiring, he replaced the screws, returning the ornament back to its original state.  Stepping down from his elevated position, Colton handed the young man two fish-eye lens cameras that closely resembled regular screws.  “Install these in the hallway, living room, and kitchen outlets,” he said. 

 

The ASAC stood by, observing as the team continued to scour the room.  “Watch the windows!”  He ordered as some of the room’s objects flew dangerously close.  He slowly made his way over to the bookshelves by the desk.  Row after row of law books filled them.  He paged through one, quickly falling on a case dealing with illegal search and seizure.  He smiled as he read through his country’s laws before blissfully tearing the pages from the book. 

 

Looking around one last time he couldn’t help but laugh as images of the people he only knew from files and surveillance photos flew through his head.  He could imagine the varying emotions crossing each of their faces.  Surprise, anger, and most importantly terror.  When he’d been assigned the mission, he had been reticent, unsure he really wanted to follow in the footsteps of Agents Stevens and Pierce – early and violent deaths.  But now, with the thrill of the hunt filling his every thought… he couldn’t imagine a better job.

 

 

~.~.~.~.~

2.

 

Jim Valenti brought three cups of coffee over to the small kitchen table before sitting down with Kyle and Serena. He sat two of the cups down in front of them before sitting down with one cup for himself.

 

“So, what do you kids have planned for today?” he asked, sipping his beverage.

 

Jim was wearing his sheriff’s uniform; he was scheduled to be at work in about a half hour.

 

“I think that we will just stay in, maybe watch a little television, and take a break,” Kyle said, looking to Serena for her approval.  “We’re just going to lay low for a little while,” he continued.  “I really don’t want many people to know that I am back.  This town still holds a lot of tension and questions for me, alien or not.”

 

“I understand,” Jim said, taking in what Kyle was telling him. 

 

Jim was sure that were he in Kyle’s shoes, he would feel the same way.  It was obvious to Jim how much Kyle cared about Serena, and even more how important it was to him to keep her safe from harm.

 

Before the conversation could continue, there was a knock at the door.  Kyle looked concerned as he moved slightly in front of Serena.  Over the years, knocks on the Valenti door could mean anything from a salesman to an alien invasion.

 

“It’s okay, I’ll get it,” Jim said, putting his mug down and walking towards the door. 

 

Peeping though the eyehole, he set everyone’s fears to rest.  “Good guy,” he said quietly. 

 

Opening the door he revealed none other than Amy Deluca.  “Hi sweetie, good morning,” she said, kissing him on the cheek and strolling right past him into the kitchen.  “I’ve brought some goodies, thought we could–” She continued talking to Jim until her eyes settled on Kyle.

 

Before anything could be said, Amy dropped the bag she was carrying, and Jim caught her before she followed the bag to the floor.

 

Wh-what’s going on?  Is everything okay?” Amy said, looking up, wide-eyed at Kyle sitting at the kitchen table.

 

“Umm, hey,” Kyle said, turning an interesting shade of red and pink.

 

Before Kyle could offer an explanation, Amy interrupted.  “Deep breaths, Amy.  Where’s Maria?  Is she okay?  Did something happen to the others?  Did something happen to her?”

 

After the burst of questions, Amy walked over to Kyle and awkwardly gave him a hug.  “Please just tell me my baby is alright.”

 

“Mrs. DeLuca, everything is just fine,” Kyle said gently patting her back while throwing Serena an “oh god” look. He didn’t say anything, not wanting to egg Amy on into another incoherent ramble.  It was certainly apparent where Maria had gotten that particular characteristic.

 

Amy took a seat at the table before she realized that another person was even seated with Kyle at the table.

 

“Amy, this is Serena, my girlfriend,” Kyle said, introducing the two. 


“It’s nice to meet you Serena,” Amy said distractedly, extending her hand and smiling at Serena.  “So will someone please tell me what’s going on!  Jim...” Amy looked back to the front door, “Bagels, sit, eat.”

 

Jim took a seat next to Amy and replied sheepishly, “Yes, madam.”

 

“Now Jim, it’s a quarter to eight, I know that you have to scurry off to work, but luckily I have plenty of time to talk to Kyle and catch up on everything that has been going on with him and my daughter,” Amy said, emphasizing her daughter.

 

“Boy, these bagels sure are good,” Kyle said, changing the subject.

 

“Okay Amy,” Jim said, taking her hand and leading her to the door to get a word with her before leaving. 

 

As soon as he reached the door, he continued.  “Amy, please understand that I wasn’t trying to keep anything from you, Kyle has only been here a short time and it is very important to him and Serena that no one else knows that they are in Roswell, not only for their safety but also for the safety of Maria and the others.”

 

Amy nodded her head, smiling at Jim, as he explained his situation.  Finally she sighed and her eyes darted from Kyle back to Jim. “We can talk about this later,” Amy said, kissing him lightly on the cheek and placing his hat on his head before opening the door for him.

 

 

~.~.~.~


 

Isabel, Liz and Ava walked quickly down the street, trying to avoid the threat of rain that loomed above them.  The clouds overhead continued to tease them with random sprinkles as the group reached their apartment.  Before they could reach the front door, they noticed a person standing outside.

 

“Who is that?” Ava asked quietly, speeding up her pace to make out the person at the doorway. 

 

“It looks like… Sonny,” Liz said, referring to the apartment manager.  Sonny also lived on the premises so they often saw him walking around.

 

“What’s going on?” Isabel asked, approaching Sonny at the door.

 

“Girls, hello.  I was walking by a while ago and saw your door open.  I just peeked in and saw the apartment like this.  Do you want me to call the police for you?” he asked.

 

Isabel looked at him, her heart beginning to pound.  The door was ajar and it was dark inside.  As she pushed the door open, it made an unusual cracking sound and skewed slightly on its hinges.  Stepping inside, broken glass crunched underfoot.  The scene was complete when the lights were turned on.

 

“No Sonny, it’s okay.  We have to see if anything is missing.  Thank you, though.” Isabel said, entering the apartment first, Ava following.  Liz entered last, closing the door noisily behind her, for what it was worth.

 

“I’m calling Max,” Liz announced, standing by the door.  She shakily flipped open her phone, dialing Max’s cell number as the others looked over the apartment in shock.

 

“Max is on his way,” Liz called out to Isabel and Ava, who then came walking back into the room.

 

“Who would have done this?” Ava asked. 

 

“And what were they looking for?” Isabel asked. 

 

“Or who were they looking for?” Liz added.

 

Before Liz’s question could be addressed the door to the apartment opened.  The three girls still stood in shock as Jesse entered the room.

 

“Jesse,” Isabel said, pulling him into the room and shutting the door quickly. 

 

“Isabel, what in the hell happened to our apartment?!” Jesse said, looking around the trashed room.

 

“Your guess is as good as ours,” Isabel responded.


 

~.~.~.~

 

 

“Birthday balloons?”

 

Amy held up an empty Mylar balloon with an image of an alien wearing a party hat on it, complete with the alien giving the peace sign and the words, “We come bearing gifts!” 

 

Jeff looked at the balloon hesitantly. 

 

“Also great for anniversaries, get wells… No?” She finished when the expression on his face didn’t change.

 

Jeff shook his head, smiling.  “What else ya got?” 

 

“Well, let’s see.”  She dug around in her box before pulling out a variety of key chains.  “How about these?”  She passed them across the counter.

 

“These I can consider...”  He studied them, chuckling at the corniness.

 

“They come 60 in a case, 15 of each.”

 

“Okay, I’ll take a box, see how they do.” 

 

“Sounds good, now how about the tree to hang them on?”  She asked, hopeful.

 

“Sure, why not?”  He watched as she pulled out a new case of key chains and a wire rack.  “So how are you doing, Amy?”

 

She looked up quickly, surprised by his sudden serious tone.  “I’m okay, taking it a day at a time.”

 

He looked at her with obvious concern.  They were all in pain over the whole ordeal, that was a given.  He and Nancy were, not just because their daughter was gone and possibly in danger, but because she was now married, to an alien, and they didn’t even get to be there to witness her happiness.  The Evans’ had lost both of their children, but at least they had each other.  But Amy, she was alone in this.  No other children or a husband to fall back on.  Then it dawned on him.  “At least you have Jim,” he stated, trying to be supportive.

 

“Now Jeff, you know I don’t need a man to take care of me!” she said, attempting to lighten the mood.  “Besides, knowing that my daughter is okay for now is all I really need,” she said, standing abruptly.  “Well, let me know how those sell.  And if you need anything else, give me a call.” 

 

It took a second for Jeff to realize the implication of her comment.  Just as her hand reached the door he called out to her.  “What do you mean, you know your daughter is okay?”

 

“Oh! Um… just a feeling I guess.” she replied, waving it off like a passing thought.

 

Jeff shook his head, racing around the counter to meet her at the door.  “No, no that’s not what you meant at all.”

 

She looked at him warily.  “Well…”

 

“Did Maria call you?  Is Liz okay?”  The words rushed out of him.

 

“Jeff, I… no she didn’t call.  Really, it’s just a hunch.”

 

He shook his head, his hands resting on his hips.  “Don’t do this to me, Amy; after all we’ve been through… I need to know.”

 

She sighed, rubbing her temple with her free hand.  “All right.  You’re right...”  She leaned forward; glancing around to make sure no one else was listening.  “Kyle’s back.”  She cleared her throat turning towards the door again.  “Do me a favor.  Don’t tell anyone else.  He’s going to flip that I even told you.” 

 

With that, she walked out the door.

 

 

~.~.~.~

 

3.

 

“I think...I think I might be ready soon,” Maria whispered from where she lay beside Michael in bed, absently grazing her nails up and down his arm, as she watched the light from the setting sun brighten his tanned skin.

 

“Ready for what?” Michael asked in a yawn, his eyes glancing towards the clock.  “Damn, we have to be at the club in–”

 

“Ready to start talking to and being around...the others,” Maria interrupted.

 

“Are you sure?” Michael asked suddenly, turning toward her, his eyes searching hers for doubt just as the phone rang.

 

“No...” Maria said with a small smile.  “But I might be, soon.”

 

“Soon?”

 

“Yeah,” Maria said with a small nod, gesturing towards the phone.  “You should get that, it might be the club.” Maria lay back down as Michael answered the phone.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Michael, it’s Max... you need to get over here now.  We have a problem.” Max responded.

 

Michael let out a long, frustrated sigh, not noticing the tense worry in Max’s voice.  “I have to be at work within the hour, so whatever little problem–”

 

“You were right,” Max stated.  “About the FBI in Boston.”

 

Michael swallowed.  “How do you know they're here about us?” Michael asked, giving Maria a nervous look as she sat up next to him.

 

“Because they broke in...” Max replied, glancing around the apartment.  “They completely trashed the place... strategically, methodically.  I've seen this type of break-in before, Michael.”

 

“Was anyone there,” Michael rasped, “when it happened?”

 

Maria pulled on Michael's sleeve.  “What is it? What happened?”

 

“The FBI broke into the apartment,” Michael replied quickly, turning back to the phone.  “You guys can't stay there, come over here...and make damn sure you're not followed!”

 

“No,” Max said simply.  “We're leaving Boston tonight… and going back to Roswell.”

 

“What!?” Michael exclaimed, jumping up from the bed.  “What makes you think going back to Roswell is going to be any safer?!”

 

“Roswell...” Maria breathed out.  “Roswell?”

 

“Kyle and Serena are both already in Roswell–” Max tried.

 

“Well, no offense to Kyle and Serena, but they don't exactly send up red flags the way we do, Max!” Michael’s face was turning a deep red.

 

Maria snapped out of her daze.  “Michael,” she called.  “Yelling isn't going to help; he doesn't know what to do anymore than you do.”

 

Michael nodded and took a deep breath.  “I don't like it, Max.  Not one bit.”

 

“None of us like it Michael, but we're going tonight.” Max explained.  “Are you coming, or not?”

 

“Hold on,” Michael nearly growled, holding his hand over the phone as he sat down next to Maria on the bed.  “How close are you to being ready now?” He asked.

 

“Why?”

 

“They want us to go back to Roswell with them tonight,” Michael replied.

 

Maria panicked.  “Tonight?!” she squeaked.

 

“We have to go, Maria.” Michael stated firmly.  “There is no other way.”

 

Roswell...

 

Maria gave a helpless nod and rose from the bed slowly to walk out into the living room, her arms crossed over her chest almost protectively.

 

Michael raised the phone back to his ear.  “We'll go, but we'll get there another way-”

 

“Michael, we've got more important things right now then coddling Maria,” Max growled, interrupting.

 

Maxwell...” Michael said slowly.  “She's coming around... I just don't–”

 

“Michael, just get to Roswell and then we'll discuss priorities.  Everyone’s lives are at stake here, not just Maria’s comfort level.”

 

“Max!” Michael yelled angrily, but Max had already hung up the phone.

 

Turning off the phone, Michael dropped it to the ground in disgust before walking out to the living room to find Maria staring out the window.  Walking up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against him. 

 

“You don't have to be upset...” He breathed softly against the side of her neck.  “I told them we'd get there another way.  We'll take a bus... or just take my bike... although it's kind of a long way for a bike–”

 

“That wasn't what I was upset about at all,” Maria said quietly, lowering her head so she could see his arms around her and hers around his.

 

“What then?” Michael asked genuinely.

 

Taking a deep breath, she replied, “Going back to Roswell, means going back to who I used to be... and I don't want to be her anymore.  I don't want to be that selfish, babyish–”

 

“You were never selfish,” Michael stated.

 

Maria turned around suddenly in his arms.  “How can you say that?” She asked accusingly.  “I treated a record contract with more respect than I did you... how does that not make me selfish?”

 

“It doesn't, it makes you …determined,” Michael reasoned.

 

“Yeah... determined in making someone miserable,” Maria mumbled.

 

Michael nearly smiled.  “You never made me miserable...” he started, trailing when Maria gave him a look.  “Much.  Nothing I couldn't deal with.”

 

Maria shook her head, and then reached her arms up and around his neck, burying her head into the crook of his neck.  “We've been happy here though.”

 

Michael nodded, wrapping his arms more securely around her so that he could lift her up and her legs automatically wrapped around his waist.  Carrying her back into the bedroom, he gently placed her on the bed, holding himself above her.  “And we'll be happy there too.”

 

“Do you think so?” Maria asked, raising her hand to curl a finger around a loose lock of his hair.

 

Turning his head, he kissed the inside of her wrist.  “I know so,” he said confidently.

 

“We'll have to face my …mother,” Maria said, the words sounding very foreign on her lips.

 

“I know that too,” Michael said, not so confidently.

 

Maria smiled softly.  “She'll understand.”

 

Doubt washed over Michael's features.  “Have you met your mother?” Michael asked sarcastically as he rolled over to lay next to her, reaching over the side of the bed for the phone

 

He held it up between them.  “Do I call the bus station... or, do we take the bike? And take our chances?”

 

Maria sighed, and took the phone from him.  “I seem to like taking chances lately,” She replied.

 

And for the second time that night, the phone hit the ground.

 

 

~.~.~.~

 

 

“Michael, just get to Roswell and then we'll discuss priorities.  Everyone’s lives are at stake here, not just Maria’s comfort level.

 

Not waiting for Michael’s response, Max slammed the receiver of the kitchen phone against its cradle, angry about the entire situation.  Just when everyone seemed to be happily settled in Boston, the FBI broke into Jesse’s apartment.  The FBI… who Max was certain had been taken care of back at the last encounter outside Fresno.  His heart raced while the frustration surged through his body; he squeezed his eyes shut, remembering that the situation could be much worse.  Slowly he took a deep breath and turned around to tell the others what Michael had said, but he stopped because everyone was staring at him. 

 

“We’re leaving,” Hanley spoke up, although it was a question as much as it was a statement.

 

Isabel started to say something, but stopped.

 

“We have to,” Max confirmed unhappily, looking from his sister to Jesse.  He felt terrible for leading the FBI to Jesse’s apartment, even if it wasn’t intentional.  Jesse had his own life here, a good job, a loving wife, and a reputation to uphold.  Now he was once again thrust back into the alien crisis… yet on the other hand, at least now Jesse knew what he was getting into. 

 

“None of us can stay behind,” Hanley pointed out, looking at Jesse. “The risk of being caught alone at this point is too great.”

 

Max nodded and leaned forward against the kitchen counter.  He had been about to say the same words to Jesse but Hanley had beat him to it.  The faint hiss of a heavy sigh filled Max’s ears.

 

“I’m sorry,” Max told him. “But we all have to get out of here.  It’s obviously unsafe.  I suggest we start packing whatever we can find.”

 

Max watched as Isabel gently began wrapping her arms around Jesse’s middle, the worried look in her eyes growing as Jesse pulled himself away from her.  She held her ground as Jesse looked at Max, a glint of anger in his deep brown eyes.

 

“I don’t like it,” Jesse informed him tersely. “But, I understand.”

 

“It’ll be okay as long as we’re together,” Isabel spoke confidently to her husband.

 

Jesse turned to look at her, the worldly concerns all but melted away.  “I know,” he said, his eyes sparkling.

 

Isabel managed a small grin, which faded as she looked at Max again.  There were other details to tend to before the packing commenced.  Max looked at his sister expectantly, waiting for her to say what was on her mind.

 

“So what did Michael say?”

 

“He and Maria are leaving town as well,” he informed her. “But--”

 

“Max!” Liz shouted, running into the room with an empty duffel bag.  “All the alien artifacts are gone!”

 

Isabel’s eyes closed and she sagged against Jesse, who wrapped his arm around her back. Hanley’s eyes fell to the floor and Ava bit her lip nervously.

 

“It’s going to be okay,” Max assured everyone, the calmness in his voice surprising even himself.  He wrapped his arms around Liz comfortingly, and she slowly rested her arms around him in turn.  “We’re gonna be okay.  I promise,” he whispered.

 

Liz nodded and took a deep breath before pulling away just enough to look into his eyes. 

 

“Where will we go?” she asked with resignation.

 

“Roswell,” he said, again making sure that everyone in the room heard his reply, “I told Michael we would be going back there because Kyle and Serena are already there, and we can’t leave them out there alone.  Besides, we are stronger on our home turf.”

 

 

~.~.~.~

 

 

Journal Entry - On the road… again

 

I’m writing in the van again.  That’s right, I’m in the van, again, my hand shaking crazily as I write these words because the ancient thing has lousy shocks.  I’m in the van because we left Boston.  The FBI found us again much to our dismay.  I was so sure that we were finished with the FBI and their plots to end our lives, but I was wrong.

 

Now, as crazy as it sounds, because of the circumstances that made us leave in the first place, we are on our way back to Roswell.  Back to God knows what kind of danger.  I’ve been sitting here in the front of the van, next to Max, who is driving during this leg of the long journey, just staring at all the scenery whizzing by and wondering the same question over and over.  Why would we leave danger just to return to an even more dangerous place?  I know that the reason we left Boston for Roswell wasn’t just because Kyle and Serena are there now without protection.  It’s not even just because the FBI invaded Jesse’s apartment and stole all the alien artifacts.  I talked to Max about it last night and well, he actually explained it pretty well.  Sometimes the best way to face danger is head-on.

 

Sure Michael’s idea to run worked for a little while, but running never makes the real problem go away.  It’s pretty tragic that we didn’t truly realize this until the FBI raided Jesse’s apartment.  He had to leave his job, the greatest career move he’s had in his life, and I honestly have to say that I don’t think he regrets it for a second, because he has Isabel.

 

So where does that leave us?  Well, without Michael and Maria for one thing.  They are on a bus back to Roswell supposedly, just the two of them.  Although the van is even more cramped than it was during our last road trip, I do agree with Max that Michael and Maria would be better off with us.  Max and I aren’t the only ones upset by that change of plans.  Hanley is irritable and Isabel, although she won’t admit it, is clearly worried that Michael and Maria will run into some kind of problem - the kind they won’t be able to get out of so easily.  At least, that’s what worries me about them being off on their own - that and Maria’s mental state.  She does seem in control of what’s around her lately - namely Michael and their apartment - but if she’s still anything like the Maria I know she doesn’t really feel in control of very much at all.  If anything, I think this trip will be good for her because being home again and seeing her mother… it could do wonders for her… barring the imminent danger we are likely going to face when we arrive. 

 

Until we get there, I keep watching the others grow increasingly restless.  In this bunch, there’s no one to ease the tension.  I’ve even found myself missing Michael and Maria’s bantering because instead, there is this tense silence in the air no matter how many different kinds of songs we find on the radio.

 

Max hasn’t said much yet, but Michael called his cell phone last night.  I wasn’t there because I was spending some time with Ava, but the walls of the cheap Super 8 motel were pretty thin and we were right next door.  The tone of his voice was serious and I heard yelling before Ava and I decided that Max must have ended the call.  When I returned to the room Max was already asleep and this morning he occupied the driver’s seat before I could ask him what happened between him and Michael.  Whatever happened, Max is doing his best to remain calm and in control.  I know he wants to be prepared for what we’ll have to face and he’s probably worried about Michael’s absence.  I’ll have to reassure him again… because we’ve faced the FBI more than once before and lived to tell the tale.  If only there was some way to stop them once and for all…

 

We may not be completely prepared but as long as we’re all together, I know we will all survive. 

 

 

~.~.~.~

 

 

“So Max and Isabel are really okay?” Philip Evans asked again. 

 

Serena refrained from the sudden urge to throw up her hands, roll her eyes and scream “Yes already!”, but she knew how much the Evans loved their children, she could see it on their anxious faces. Kyle patiently explained to them what had happened since Diane had seen them last.  Serena basically tuned out their talking – she’d heard it earlier with Jim and then Amy DeLuca, who’d wanted to know everything that was going on with Maria and then proceeded to ask if Michael was treating her well or if she’d have to go undercover to come and rescue her while kicking Michael’s ass in the process. Apparently Amy had been watching a lot of Alias.


Serena looked over to Kyle and touched his leg lightly.  “I’m going to get a drink of water,” she said once she’d gotten his attention.  His eyes sparkled as he squeezed her hand and turned to answer more questions from the Evans.


Jim gave her a small smile as he moved out of the way for her to pass by.  Living with Jim and Kyle the last few days had been slightly awkward for Serena.  Kyle had been right – his father had welcomed her with open arms, but there was still a twinge of hesitation as they all got used to the situation they were in.


The sudden death of Kyle’s grandfather as soon as they’d arrived probably didn’t help the atmosphere, she mused.  It didn’t hurt it either.


Reaching up, she grabbed a glass just as the doorbell rang.  Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Jim excuse himself before going to answer the door.  She shrugged, noticing that she wasn’t to answer the door and proceeded to fill her glass to the top. 

 

Jim and someone else mumbled at the front door, it was probably another friend of the family here to see Kyle. Despite his request to lie low for the next few days, word had apparently leaked anyway. Just as long as it wasn’t leaders from an alien planet coming to take them over, she’d be okay.

 

Taking a careful sip off the top of her glass, she headed back to Kyle’s side.

 

But before she got there, she collided with a foreign body, the glass of water splashing all over the place.  Before there was time to react, all the commotion stopped – instantly.

 

Images of her mother flooded her mind. Yamine

 

Serena looked up, uncertain how much time had passed, the room now dead quiet, the clock seemingly even stopped ticking.  Wait… the clock did stop ticking.  The television picture was frozen, Jim stood in front of it mid-stride, one foot off the ground… and the man that bumped into her was completely motionless.  Water droplets hung in the air, the spray static, casting unusual shadows on the floor.

 

“Holy mother of God…”

 

As she reached out slowly to touch a thin column of water, she caught a glimpse of it slowly moving.  She looked at the television, the frames were advancing in slow motion now… and both of Jim’s feet were on the ground.  Time continued to speed up at an exponential pace, and in a split second she was soaked, and the room was once again much noisier.

 

Startled and weak, her legs faltered, the man’s strong arms there seemingly in an instant.  She struggled to see the person that had ahold of her.


“I’m sorry, are you okay?” the man offered, righting the young woman.


Glancing up, her eyes collided with soft blue ones.  She shook her head, suddenly in full control again.  “No.... I mean yes! I’m fine.  Thanks – I’m just… all wet now…”

 

She looked to Kyle helplessly. 

 

He stood up to help her with the spill.  “I’ll go get a towel,” he said, taking the glass from her hands and making sure she was okay before turning to get the towel. 


“Let me help,” Serena said quickly, gently prodding Kyle towards the direction of the kitchen.  He nodded. 

 

Opening a drawer, Kyle pulled out a towel.  “What’s wrong, Serena? You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.” He handed the towel to her and she took it with limp, trembling fingers.  He ran the back of his hand over her cheek, trying to get her to look at him.


“It’s nothing – it’s just…” She began mopping up the water.

 

“What?”


Serena turned her head, hiding her face behind her hair.  “That man,” she said quietly, “He scares me.”


Kyle leaned in to hear her.  “Mr. Parker? That’s Liz’s dad,” He began, rubbing her back in small circles.


Serena blew out a tight breath.  “Oh.”


Kyle’s eyes narrowed in concern.  “You seem more upset than you need to be for just getting water all over yourself.”


“It’s just…” she glanced towards the living room where Mr. Parker, Jim and the Evans’ were talking boisterously.  “He… startled me, that’s all.”


Kyle’s eyebrows rose.  “That’s all?”


Serena sighed.  “No, but that’s all I’m willing to talk about now.  Let’s go back into the fray, shall we?”


“Okay,” Kyle murmured, squinting slightly before kissing her forehead.  She led the two of them back to their places in the living room.


“I’m so sorry about that,” Jeff immediately stood up, holding out a hand to Serena.  “I’m Jeff Parker, Liz’s dad.”


“Um, hi,” Serena mumbled, taking his hand and shaking it respectively.  “I’m just a little clumsy, that’s all.  I’m always dropping things.”


“No, no it’s entirely my fault,” Jeff said earnestly.  “I wasn’t watching where I was going and I ran into you – completely on accident!” He laughed a bit.  “Hey, why don’t I make it up to you?”


“Huh?”

 

Serena, who’d been avoiding his gaze ever since she sat down, looked up at him in surprise.

 

“I own a restaurant.  The Crashdown – I’m sure Lizzy has told you stories about it before.”


Serena nodded.


“Why don’t you stop by sometime for breakfast? It’ll be on the house.”


Serena glanced to Kyle who was smiling as he watched her.  He nodded slightly, reaching over to hold her hand.


“Sure,” she finally replied.  “That’d be great.”


 

~.~.~.~

 

4.

 

…beep beep beep…beep beep beep beep


She pressed the phone to her ear, listening to the white noise as the call connected.  It rang once, twice –


“Move you moron!” she shouted, slamming on the brakes and hitting the gas hard as she changed lanes.  “Stupid humans,” she muttered, her concentration now on the phone again.


It was still ringing.


Goddammit, Will!” she fumbled with the plastic device before finally giving up and tossing it on the seat next to her.


Placing both hands on the wheel, she pressed the gas harder and the car lurched as it groaned to meet her demands.  Keeping one eye on the speedometer and the other on the road, she passed car after car as the white line crept closer and closer to 120 mph.


The wheel began to shake and she threw a disapproving glance to the dash.  “C’mon, baby.  Don’t do this to me now…”


A blue sign loomed, advertising gas and food in one mile.


Sighing, she looked at her gauges.  She needed radiator fluid and gas; the little pointer had crossed the red line in both her fuel and temperature gauges.


She tapped her fingers absently against the wheel, debating what to do.  She could use her powers to help the car along, but in the long run it’d really need the required fluids anyway.  Sighing again, she jerked the car over to the exit ramp, ignoring the squealing of tires and honking horns behind her, and followed the signs.


Pulling into a semi-vacant gas station, she reached out with her empathic prowess, sensing if anyone harmful or dangerous was around. 


A slow grin formed on her mouth as she jerked the car to a stop in front of one of the self-serve pumps.


“Well, well,” she pushed her sunglasses on.  “What a coincidence.” Stepping out of her car, she ignored the steam rising from the hood and the way the wheels seemed to sag under the weight of the car.  She wouldn’t need it after today.


A tiny bell dinged as she swung the door open and surveyed the place.  A regular truck stop: a restaurant, small convenience store, showers and a lounge.  Various truckers milled about in booths and in the lounge but it wasn’t them she was interested in.  It was the tall, dark haired man in the convenience store, surveying an aisle like it was full of foreign objects.


And it may as well have been, she mused to herself as she strolled over.  Gliding down the aisle next to him, she followed his movements from the other side, smirking at the various faces he made as he picked his way through his food options.


“Maybe you should try some Alpo.  This kind is good for your coat,” she held up a bag of dog food and grinned at her brother.

 

His eyes went from shock, to disbelief, to anger.


“Raeve,” he finally ground out, her smile faltering slightly.  “I told you not to come!”


“Oh, c’mon, Will.” Raeve put down the bag.  “You know me – I don’t give a damn what you say, if I think I’m right.”

 

Hanley’s eyes swept the store over her shoulder, making mental notes of the customers.


“And I am right.  We’re fine,” he bit out, starting to walk towards the end of the aisle.  Raeve followed him.  At the end he faced her, leaning close so they couldn’t be heard well by anyone passing by.


“I’m keeping a close eye on them.  They’re safe.”


“Yeah Will, define ‘close eye’ for me again?” Raeve glanced around the store also.  “Because if this is your idea of ‘close eye,’ maybe we should get you some glasses.  The Wal-Mart kind - thick and geeky.”


Hanley grabbed her arm, forcing her to look at him.  She observed a flicker of angry annoyance pass through his eyes.  “Damn you, Rae, this isn’t time to get all stand-up comedian on me, if you would just listen--”


“Well, you need to lighten up, Will! I’m in this fight too and I’m needed here regardless of what you say.  You’re so serious all the time--”


“Well did you stop to think that it’s because lives are at stake?”


“They’ve always been at stake; there will always be lives at stake--”


“And did you also stop to think that your reckless behavior could get us all killed?”


Raeve clenched her fists, her face a barely controlled mask of anger.  “Stop interrupting me, William! I’m your sister, not some lower class Antarian that you can boss around!”


“Hanley?”


“What?” Raeve and Hanley said, turning at the same time. A very surprised Max stood watching them warily.


“Is everything okay?”


Yes,” Hanley said tersely, scratching his ear.

 

 “So you’re Max Evans,” Raeve said slowly, the words rolling slowly off the end of her tongue.


Max blinked, his eyes narrowing.  “Do I know you?”


Raeve smiled and nudged her brother with her elbow.  “You should have warned me that he was the tall, dark and mysterious type.” 
 

Hanley shot a disapproving glance in her direction, still irritated with her but not willing to fight in front of Max.


“Max, this is my sister, Raeve.”


Raeve stepped forward, sticking out her hand dutifully.  “Nice to meet you, Max Evans,” she smiled while shaking his hand.  “You’ve obviously got a question,” she stated, eyeing his expression.


Max looked at her in disbelief.  “How’d you know?”


Raeve shrugged, throwing a knowing glance towards her brother.  “Lucky guess.  What’s on your mind, your highness?”


Max glanced from Hanley to Raeve before speaking.  “How come you both responded to Hanley? I thought--”


“First name’s William, remember, Max?” Hanley interjected before Raeve could make a smart-ass comment, but she made one anyway.


“William is too girly.  Not strong enough to suit a man like my brother here,” Raeve patted his shoulder.  “I started calling him by our last name ‘cause it fits him a whole lot better.”


“Great grammar you’ve got there, Rae.  Did you pick that up from down south?” Hanley quipped.


“Nah…just from here and there.  You know – traveling.” She tipped her head up, trying to see over Max’s head.  “Where’s the rest of the cavalry?”


“Rae, you’re not staying,” Hanley cut in.  “You have to go back–”


“Back where, Will? I mean, really.  You have no idea what you’re getting yourselves into, do you?” Raeve finally faced him directly for the first time in years.  Her quiet anger returned, making her stand up straighter. “There are things happening in Roswell that you can’t even possibly begin to imagine.  I’ve seen things… bad things… and that’s why you need me if you plan on coming out of this thing alive.”


 

 

 

© 2002-2003 Roswell: The Final Chapter.  Unauthorized reproduction prohibited.  Any similarities to events, real or imaginary, are strictly coincidental.  Roswell: The Final Chapter is in no way affiliated with UPN, the WB, Regency Television, 20th Century Fox, or Jason Katims Productions.

 

 

© 2004-2005 Roswell: The Final Chapter.  Unauthorized reproduction prohibited.  Any similarities to events, real or imaginary, are strictly coincidental.  Roswell: The Final Chapter is in no way affiliated with UPN, the WB, Regency Television, 20th Century Fox, or Jason Katims Productions.

© 2006-2007 Roswell: The Final Chapter.  Unauthorized reproduction prohibited.  Any similarities to events, real or imaginary, are strictly coincidental.  Roswell: The Final Chapter is in no way affiliated with UPN, the WB, Regency Television, 20th Century Fox, or Jason Katims Productions.