The Offer (CC ALL, YTEEN) Ch. 41 - 5 / 21 COMPLETE

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Misha
Addicted Roswellian
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Joined: Thu Jun 20, 2002 10:44 am
Location: Guatemala City, Guatemala

Chapter 29. Mind Games

Post by Misha »

Thanks for coming back to read!!!!

Thank you all for your patience. I know it sucks to have to wait this long between parts. And because I know Michael is going to give me hell to write him, I moved his part to chapter 30, though you will get to know more pieces of Maria's gift now :D

Since I last answered feedback, I want to thank all those who bumped the story and asked about my whereabouts :D So, thanks to thetvgeneral, (I really love when the betas jump in! and one of these days I *am* going to spoil you rotten :P); cwm_ (thanks for bumping!); Max/Jason Luver, (did you ever finish reading all those fics I sent you??); Timelord31, (well, if I do not come back to finish, I swear I'll post the entire plot :P); katydid, (you wouldn't *believe* how hard it was to get Dave and Maria to behave...); Michelle in Yonkers, (HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! Where would I be without those threats??!); and Allie Xie, (Technically, it *was* sooner than later since I changed the chapters' structure ;) Thanks for stopping by!).

By the way, according to my logic and plan, there are only six chapters left for this book... so questions are very welcomed just to make sure I've covered all my bases ;)

AAANNNDD the girls at Roswell Heaven (http://p072.ezboard.com/broswellheaven) very generously have let me have an "Author's Chat" on their site. So I'm just wondering if you guys would like to come one of these Saturdays? Let me know if it would be better at a 2pm EST time or 8pm EST time :) That way I can ask for a date and let you all know.


So, all that said, here's the next chapter! Let's see how the storm is going for those two... for all of them, actually ;)


XXIX
Mind Games



Maria hardly ever found herself at a loss for words, and this day was no exception. It had been remarkably easy to throw herself into this “tale”, almost creepily so, and in retrospect, she hadn’t even been aware that she was still keeping so many feelings inside of her regarding that whole time. Not only because of what had happened to Max, but also what had happened to all of them. Everything they had lost in such a short time. One week she was worrying about Michael not “getting it”, and the next she was a nervous wreck about not seeing Michael ever again. Talk about priorities.

It had been so long since she had told what had happened to Max that it almost felt like she was telling something that had never really happened. If only that were true… By now she was starting to feel the weariness of it all. The one and only time she had told half of it had been three years ago, to Alex, and she had silently cried through it all, her tears sliding down her face as Alex had placed a soothing arm across her shoulders.

God, she missed him. Good ol’ Alex had sat through the whole thing with her for almost three hours, comforting her, as she chose what to tell and what not. She had felt far safer telling this to Alex than to the man in front of her, of course, but telling Alex had attached a guilty feeling, because she had known that Max had never wanted to tell any of this to begin with, to anyone. He hadn’t wanted Alex to know, and she knew it. As far as she was aware, Alex had never told anyone, especially not Isabel, but now Maria was spilling the whole thing to Dave. The least she could do was to tell him that he was not to take this lightly. He couldn’t take advantage of knowing her and Max’s sort of secret.

“He made me promise I would never tell them, especially not Liz,” Maria fiercely said, and realizing there was nothing she could really do to stop him, she asked with concern, “You won’t tell her now, will you?” She was dreading that Max’s trust in her would be broken by this man, no matter how noble her intentions had been –or how twisted the circumstances for that matter. Yet he just looked at her with a look of respect, pretty much the same look that Alex had had when he had been listening to her. The one look that said, I won’t betray you.

“No,” Dave almost whispered, his eyes fixed on her, all his concentration on the subject.

No. Just like that. One word. She was expecting something more along the lines of “this will be our secret to keep” or something stupid. Yet she believed, with that sole word, that Dave was not going to disappoint her. She wondered since when was she so trusting, or more likely, what was it about Dave that made them want to trust him?

Admittedly, the guy was nothing to sneeze at. She wouldn’t put past him that he spent an hour or so at the gym three times a week and probably kept a diet as well. But it wasn’t just his looks. He had a friendly air around him, almost playful, just like when she had entered this office more than an hour ago and she had caught him in midair. However, there also was another side of him, one more serious and thoughtful, like the way he had looked at her right before stating that he knew Max had talked to her. She frowned. How had that happened anyway? Maria wondered not for the first time, finally deciding to fish for her own answers.

“How could you know?” Maria asked, half worried, half expectant. She didn’t even want to start imagining what it would mean if Dave had been spying on them from way before the Phoenix incident. “How did you know he talked to me about this?”

Dave’s eyes blinked once, but his expression didn’t change, as if he were still listening to her with all his attention pinned to every detail. With the same tone he had said “no” just thirty seconds before, he said:

“‘I really want to know. So if you are feeling dizzy, weak, dry-eyed or whatever, just tell me.’ Those were your exact words,” Dave said as Maria’s mind was trying to make sense of what Dave was talking about.

“Exact words?” she finally managed to ask.

“You asked him that,” Dave said, blinking once more, this time breaking eye contact as he composed himself on his seat, “when you woke up in the rooms. Dizziness, weakness, dry-eyes, they are all symptoms Max went through at one point or another.”

Maria stared at him, half of her brain trying to remember what she had said to Max in those awful hours, and the rest waiting for Dave to continue explaining what else he had known to reach that conclusion. But as the seconds went by, he didn’t say anything else.

“That’s it?!” she exclaimed in disbelief, suspiciousness laced in her tone.

“Well, I’ve been told I’m a very perceptive man—”

“No one’s that perceptive,” Maria cut him off. He smiled a small smile at her interruption. He lowered his eyes to his puzzle for a second, as if recalling something.

“Did you ever wonder why the walls in your blue rooms were thinner or thicker?” Dave asked, his eyes returning to hers, inclining himself a little forward, his tone softer. “Why you were actually ‘paired’?”

Yes. Hell yes! Yet, as uncharacteristic as it was for her, Maria remained silent. This was obviously one of those rhetorical questions. She just raised her eyebrow as in “your point being?”

“I’m perceptive enough to catch on to details, though it’s usually the way those details are presented that give me the better… picture. With you six, it was all in your relationships. What you would say, or not say, depended on who you were talking to. I took my chances at pairing you the way I did, yet very interesting details came through. I already knew things from school gossip about how you and Max had gotten closer when Liz went away to Florida that summer. And when you went straight to the point when you asked Max if he was alright, knowing exactly how he would feel if he hadn’t been, that’s when my perception kicked in. You were worried about Michael, and you didn’t want to upset Max more than he already was… But you had to ask. And that was exactly what you asked first.”

“They were just three things!” Maria said still with disbelief.

“They weren’t random,” Dave answered her with a firm tone.

“You could have been wrong,” Maria retorted.

“But I wasn’t,” Dave said, slightly smiling. In that moment it dawned on her that Dave had tricked her into telling him everything Max had told her without really knowing a thing. Her eyes pierced Dave’s as if she were ready to throw daggers at him in a very literal way. He didn’t lower his eyes though, but his “aura” of friendliness was getting thinner all the same.

It boiled Maria’s blood. She could have gone and told the short version of the short version and Dave wouldn’t have known better. She narrowed her eyes at him, outraged. This was what he had been doing, wasn’t it? He knew little details and there they were, believing he already knew everything! She didn’t regret telling Dave what Max had told her, but she was positively fuming at being deceived like this.

For that matter, what else had she told Max in that stupid blue room that Dave could use to his advantage now? She could barely recall more than half of what she had said to him. Max had been her only link to the others except for Michael’s connections, and that had been an experience unto itself. Michael’s emotions had rolled over her in waves, as his anger and anxiousness had been hand in hand escalating to the sky. Not exactly her idea of fun –and much less in those circumstances- but now that Dave was bringing it all back, she tried to recall what else she had said, for all the good it was going to do to her...

“Was it really worth it?” she snapped at him yet again, and she didn’t care. “You go on and on about us trusting we made the right choice and then you just zap! Say things like this! You left us there for hours without knowing a thing! And all for what? Just details that might or might not tell you things about us?”

“It was more than that,” he answered, his calmness unshakeable it seemed. “It gave me clues. Hints. But more importantly, it gave me significant, solid pieces to start seeing the outlines of the puzzle you kids really are. Not second hand information; not school gossip; not classified files. It was the first time I was really seeing all of you in… well, action,” Dave said with a small smile. It made Maria’s blood boil even more.

“What could you possibly have learned from us panicking in those creepy little rooms?” she said, outraged. “Do you have any idea what it felt like to be trapped there?!” she demanded, placing –almost slapping- an angry hand over the desk.

He looked at her impassively. “I learned about how you deal with situations. How you prioritize. What was more important to each one of you,” Dave paused, looking straight at her, almost as if he could read her mind. She held his gaze. “From what you said, I did get a good idea of what it felt like to be trapped there.”

“Well, if you call pissed off and scared to death okay, then he’s fine.” She had said that to Max about Michael, and she had known Max had been feeling something along the same lines. God, how had Max managed not to lose it there, especially knowing what he knew from experience, she would never know. She was still wondering how they were all managing with being here herself, and a tiny little voice told her at the back of her mind that her sudden rage at the man in front of her had everything to do with all the stress she had been bottling for the past week.

She narrowed her eyes in a disapproving gesture. Right there, she didn’t really have any good thoughts about that man. He crossed his arms in front of him, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“If I had been the FBI, do you think all of you would still be alive?”

Maybe. No. She didn’t want to think about it. It sounded like an honest question, but Maria knew where Dave was going: I saved you. I kept you away. Ain’t I great?

“But you are not the FBI and yet you kidnapped us for three days and left us there… To our worst fears.” She slowly shook her head, trying to piece together her thoughts and her words with a slightly open mouth. Though she usually would say whatever came into her mind, she was trying to say the things that would hurt this man the most. He deserved that and so much more. “You’re not better than them,” she finally managed to say with disdain.

Dave regarded her for a couple of seconds. “At least I’m not worse.”

His statement sent a cold wave through her spine as the meaning behind Dave’s too calm words hit her. If he wanted to, he could be worse than anything. Hell, Maria had been so convinced the man was going to respect this deal because he got the better end of it, but if her gut was wrong…

“We could leave, right now, just like that,” she said, snapping her fingers, playing the one and only card that truly would keep Dave at bay, or so she hoped.

Dave was silent for a moment. Then, standing, he quietly answered, “Yes… that you certainly can do.”

His words seemed to hang in the air, almost as if they were echoing in an immense cavern. There was a certain finality to those words, and Maria would bet good money there was also a hint of annoyance, with resignation as well. He turned to the side and started walking towards his famous cupboard; snack time already, she guessed.

“I have no doubt that, if one of you really thought it was worth the risk to leave this place, you’d do it, just like that,” he said, snapping his fingers, imitating her gesture of just a minute ago. “I wouldn’t expect less from any of you, especially not from the girl who turned down a possible million dollar music contract, and who also has the temper to deal with Michael Guerin on a daily basis.”

Maria followed him with her eyes as he reached the cupboard, not sure where was this going.

“So, to answer your earlier question, yes, it was very worth it to place you in those rooms, taking the risk of scaring you out of your minds. You are here, after all.”

“You weren’t behind that deal, were you?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. Maybe this was one of those unexpected things he had done. But Dave paused in front of his cupboard, a bit puzzled.

“The record deal?” he finally asked as it dawned on him what he had said just a second before. She didn’t move. “No. That was all you… and them, I had nothing to do with it.” Maria arched an eyebrow as if saying, “Really?” Dave turned and bent down, searching for something in the cupboard.

“I can play almost anything you can throw at me on a piano,” he said more to the cupboard than to her, “and it would technically be perfect, but…” he paused as he finally found the mug he had been looking for, “it wouldn’t really sound right.”

Maria frowned. The guy certainly wasn’t shy or humble –and she had almost wanted to roll her eyes at his statement of how perfect he was- so, why wouldn’t it sound right then?

“I lack passion,” he said as he stood, “music has never interested me. So I can assure you, I had nothing to do with your company record, your annoying scout, or your even more annoying music editor… It was a pretty good contract though.”

Subtle. Sure, he might not have arranged anything about it, but he sure seemed to know all about it. She snorted. “You would know about contracts, uh?” she sarcastically said. He smiled though, and bent again, this time to the mini-fridge.

Maria’s stomach rumbled –though only she heard it- at the sight of Dave taking out a milk carton. She hadn’t had breakfast, of course, and she hadn’t had much of a dinner either. This day sucked, she decided, as Dave’s eyes returned to her as well.

“Well, it would seem that you know exactly what you want from those contracts,” he answered, but this time she didn’t take the bait, if that was what it was.

“What exactly do you know about that contract, anyway?” Yeah, let’s see what amazing three things you know about this, she angrily thought.

“Only what your friend Billy said, actually.”

And that was low. She certainly felt the air leaving her lungs not to return for a couple of seconds. Billy? No, not Billy!

“‘Great car, great talk, great studio, but it was all marketing and no soul.’ Those were his exact words.”

“I thought you said it was a pretty good contract,” Maria managed to say, though it came out sounding flat. Her mind was still on her friend, imagining him sitting in some café in New York, unknowingly talking to Dave about his great plans and how once his friend had come this close to making them real.

“It was. The problem was that you didn’t agree with it. You liked what they had to offer, but not what they wanted in return.”

Well, of course she had liked the idea of millions invested in her songs, traveling the world, becoming famous and what not, but the price had been too high. They weren’t going to be her songs to begin with, and just as Billy had –apparently- said, it was all marketing and no soul. She fixed her eyes on his face –and not in his now milk-filled mug- and getting a grip she said, “Oh, doesn’t it sound familiar to a certain deal we made?”

She could practically see the wheels coming to a stop in that twisted mind of his. Time seemed to stretch as four or five seconds went by.

“So why didn’t you?” he said, his tone serious, paused, no smiles anywhere now. “Why didn’t you turn down the offer, keep going on your way, and never look back?” he asked her, placing his mug at his side, all his attention on her, but a rather different attention. She suddenly felt like a mouse being watched by a lion. She dismissed the feeling quickly.

“Because you made it plain and clear that we had no better choice,” Maria coldly answered.

“I also made plain and clear the conditions of our deal, but you seemed to believe my word is worthless.”

“We didn’t exactly meet under charming conditions, now did we? I think we at least have the right to expect the worst of any circumstance regarding you.”

“But that’s exactly my point,” Dave said, slightly narrowing his eyes. Maria could almost imagine a big, restless, yellow tail behind him, “You think something wrong is going to happen. You expect it at every corner of this place. But the truth is, since you accepted this offer, nothing bad has remotely happened to any of you. So I don’t see why your low expectations of my word should interfere with the actual facts of this deal. You are the ones who believe Jake and I see you as some kind of lab rats, and that we only want to benefit blindly from you. That was never said.”

“Not out loud…” she muttered, though she knew very well he had heard her. She slightly inclined forward while holding his gaze, “If you really want to look that closely at the ‘fine print’, it was never said that we had to accept this with smiles and a joyful choir,” she ended with a fake innocent smile. He slightly glared at her, and she dropped the façade. “What the hell were you expecting?” she indignantly –and rhetorically- asked.

The lion’s tail seemed to give one last snap and then stayed still.

“Whatever it was,” he said calmly, “we were both expecting different things and got very different outcomes. Though in your position, that turned out to be for the best.”

“Right…” Maria said, turning to look at her left, preparing herself to tell him what exactly she thought of her position and how “good” it was, but her thoughts were cut off by a phone. A cell phone. It rang so loudly in the middle of her words and her thoughts –and the silence between them, for that matter- that it actually startled both of them for a second, making them stiffen.

The cell phone rang again as recognition came to Dave’s eyes. Oh, she couldn’t wait to tell him one thing or two about cell phones and meetings, but as Dave started to walk towards the door, a very serious and almost worried look settled on his face. And for the first time he looked dangerous too. This man was not one she wanted to mess with, especially not now with the vibes he was sending out. The change was… interesting at the very least, and a bit frightening too. She thought she was cornering him for good, but now she wasn’t sure if the man was acting for her sake. What kind of man was she really dealing with here?

“We’ll continue this in a minute,” was all he said as he stepped out of the office, leaving a somewhat bewildered Maria behind.

The shock didn’t last though. As soon as Dave had left the room, closing the door behind him, she stood up and went to the door itself. Who knew? Maybe she could eavesdrop on something. Clearly, whoever had called had made Dave stop in his tracks pretty badly.

Dave didn’t go too far away from the door, but he didn’t speak loudly exactly either. The words were coming muffled as she strained her ears to catch something, anything from the conversation at the other side of the door. It took her almost a whole minute to realize he wasn’t speaking in English, and the next second she cursed her stars for not staying with the French Club back in High School.

“Tu en es sûre?" the words came muffled again. She was fairly certain it was French, and the words sort of rang a bell in her memory. Something like “are you correct?” He kept talking, and she kept listening… and frowning too. It didn’t help matters that she was listening to half the conversation. Why couldn’t he be talking in Spanish?! She would have had more luck with that…

“Non, non, cela doit être fait immédiatement. Je vais m’en occuper,” Dave sounded closer, and she had no clue about what he had just said, except that he sounded too serious for her liking. “Non, je ne vais pas interrompre mes vacances juste pour ça.” Maria frowned deeper. “Vacances” was a word she actually understood: Vacations. Well, he had said to Liz he was on vacation, hadn’t he? Dave sounded farther now. Was he pacing?

“Non, je m’en moque …” Dave continued, making Maria sighed in frustration. What was he saying, for crying out loud?! “Cela ne lui prendra pas longtemps, je sais, mais ça ne me prendra pas longtemps non plus” Okay, so Dave was talking about a him? Something about time? Oh, stupid language, she cursed as she glared at the door. Dave must have walked further because now Maria didn’t hear a thing.

“Oui, je sais,” Dave’s words came loud and clear almost at the other side of the door making Maria jump an inch. “Yes, I know”, she understood that last sentence. “Non, pas pendant mon anniversaire,” Dave kept saying, his words sounding distant again. He definitely sounded as if he were pacing. And what had that been? Anniversaire? Didn’t that mean “Birthday”? What, he was talking about her? Maria pressed harder against the door, her eyes narrowing, going to the numbers on the wall.

And then she suddenly realized she was all alone in that office…

Her eyes turned to the desk, and then to the door. She couldn’t hear him right now, and there was no way to know if his call was going to take much longer, but… That desk –with its drawers full of secrets- was suddenly very tempting to check out…


* * *


The place was beautiful. It was no wonder why Dave had suggested it to begin with. Granted, Isabel had had her doubts when Michael had said there were huts by the frozen lake –and God knew she had had enough of camping and the forest to last her three lifetimes- but as Ray was showing her and Kyle around, she could definitely see herself practically living here all winter long… and spring too… As long as mosquitoes could be at bay, summer as well.

Hut wasn’t really the word for it. It was a house by the lake, relatively small, with an exterior that made it look as if it hadn’t been used in quite a while. Yet once one passed the threshold, things changed. As in welcome-to-the-21st-century changed.

“So, when do I move in?” Kyle said as they were entering the kitchen. The style of the entire house wasn’t rustic at all, but more of a bachelor’s apartment, all chrome and modern, big comfortable couches by the chimney, huge windows overlooking the frozen lake, a pool table in one corner, a small bar just behind the dinning room. The polished wooden floor was neatly kept, and gray, blue, and maroon rugs covered it in strategic places. Still, it felt rather cold, and artificial… it lacked a woman’s touch, Isabel thought. Ray chuckled at Kyle’s question.

“You, me, and everyone in this place,” Ray said as Isabel was inspecting the fridge, which was empty. “No, both huts are recreational only, but it takes a lifetime to get one when you want it. They are harder to keep under surveillance, and that makes them one of the weakest points to this place. So the huts are not available much of the time, except for special occasions. You have to arrange things with Administration, you know? Richard? And to get permission to be up here can be tricky, at best.”

“Not much room for a spur of the moment thing, uh?” Kyle said with a smirk.

“Not in this place, my friend. Nothing can be a surprise in this place… much less for Richard…” Ray said as he glanced at his watch. “I take it the others won’t take long now?”

They both looked at each other, unsure of the answer. “They shouldn’t take long,” Isabel said, “though I’m not sure exactly how long…” Ray arched an eyebrow at her.

Because the huts were half a mile from the main compound entrance, Ray had driven Isabel and Kyle. He hadn’t looked too happy at their breakfast meeting when they had told him that both Max and Liz were staying behind to tie up some loose ends, and had been much less euphoric at the fact that Michael wanted to bring Maria there alone, which meant that Ray had to give him his car. But to be truthful, the man had given in without much opposition. As long as things were clear as to where everyone was supposed to be and at what hours, he had said, then he was okay with that.

And that meant following a schedule. Isabel was all for schedules and planning and decorating, and to a reasonable degree, she could trust Max and Liz to follow one too. Kyle was with her, so she could keep him on time. Now, thankfully, Maria was out of the equation, but Michael was a whole other thing. Schedule was not a word that could be found in Michael’s mental dictionary. Sure, she knew that under attack or any life-death situation, Michael would be precise to the second, but putting those scenarios aside...

Ray still looked expectantly at her in search of a more straight answer. Isabel suspected Ray was a guy who was used to following schedules as well.

“Why don’t we call you when they are ready to come?” Kyle said, looking between Isabel and Ray, “I mean, we know Max and Liz shouldn’t take much longer, but Michael has the food, so there’s no telling how much time that’s gonna take.”

Ray slightly cringed at that comment, and Isabel supposed the guy was really big into keeping schedules and straight hours after all. Of course she would never know that Ray’s cringe had to do with a certain French cook named Danielle.

After a couple of seconds of consideration, Ray finally nodded. “Okay, sounds about right. Now, about the security measures…” Ray began as he re-entered the living room and went to the plasma monitor behind the pool table. For the next fifteen minutes he explained in detail about the perimeter, the procedures in case of emergency, and ended up with a very earnest look about calling him if anything remotely suspicious happened.

“We haven’t had intruders since we first moved in to this place, but it would only figure today is the day, so… I don’t want to take any chances.”

Why, Ray wasn’t worried about them trying to escape through the frozen lake or the snowy roads? Isabel sarcastically wondered to herself. Though the perimeter cameras covered the surrounding areas, the huts themselves didn’t have any surveillance beyond a standard security system. Nothing that she couldn’t disable if she needed to either.

But the other stuff, the Network Keepers stuff that she had checked back in her apartment… That was enough to give her a headache. It was wired in some weird way that, though shutting down the entire place wouldn’t be a problem for her powers, shutting down just one section would. It had alarms upon alarms, and disabled systems upon disabled systems, so if she were to disconnect one area another would take its place or something. She would actually need to do a real attempt to know how it would all fall out, and she somehow doubted that the man in front of her would appreciate that, let alone Dave.

Ray looked around the place one last time, as if he were mentally checking that everything was in order.

“You didn’t bring any decorations?” He finally asked.

“Only one set of alien-powered hands,” Kyle said, “at least until the other two can come…”

Ray blushed as he turned to look at her, half wanting to say he was sorry he hadn’t thought about it, it seemed, and half nervous as well. He reminded her of Michael in the middle of trying to apologize, which was a very rare event. Ray opened his mouth and left it open for about three seconds before saying, “I see.”

He looked once again at the place –anywhere but them, Isabel noticed- until he finally turned to look at her. “Well, if you have everything under control, then I’ll leave you to set things up.” He walked himself to the door, and before he left, he turned one last time to look at them, “I know it’s been a long, strange week for you all, but try to have some fun. I’ll bring Max and Liz when they call.”

And with that, they were left alone.

“Fun, right,” Kyle said after ten seconds had gone by, and turning around he saw the pool table, “though it has its possibilities…”

“Michael will beat you at it,” Isabel warned him as she walked to the windows and looked outside as Ray’s Land Rover disappeared. For the first time in this place she felt somewhat free, away from prying eyes.

“Not if I bring my powers to the party,” Kyle said, half jokingly, half serious. Isabel turned from the window and went to the closest wall.

“Don’t even joke about it,” she seriously said. She touched the wall, trying to decide what kind of yellow would suit better with the place. Something in red too, and maybe she could do something that said “Happy Birthday” without it sounding forced, let alone cliché…

“What if I’m not joking…?” Kyle’s quiet voice shook her out of her thoughts. She was so used to Kyle’s sarcasm and cynicism that sometimes, when Kyle was actually being serious, she still wondered for a second if she was misreading him. And God, she wanted to be misreading him right now. She turned to look at him without saying anything, just waiting for him to continue.

Kyle sighed. “I don’t… I’m not…” he tried to begin, but miserably failed. And he looked miserable too. “Listen,” he said, taking a deep breath, “maybe these are the last sparks, but… I’m trying to not freak out, okay?” Kyle rushed in as Isabel closed her eyes in an almost defeated manner. “I’ve been meditating, and thinking about it, and I think… I-I think I have it under control…”

“What happened?” Isabel asked, forgetting the wall. In fact, she was starting to forget about the party too.

“I just sparkled for a few seconds on Wednesday… maybe on Monday too, I’m not sure about that…”

“Not sure?!” Isabel snapped, worry creeping into her mind. “Kyle! We’re playing with fire here!”

“I know!” Kyle defensively said, “But I keep thinking that the worst has already happened. Liz stopped sparkling for about two months before getting her powers… Maybe I’m just… I don’t know… on the verge of getting mine too…”

Isabel silently sat on the couch facing the chimney, a million things running through her mind. First she couldn’t dreamwalk Dave; now Kyle might just turn green in front of Jake.

“It might actually be a good thing,” Kyle said, approaching her, “maybe… maybe they are even gone now…” he wondered out loud with a hopeful tone. Isabel looked up at him, for the first time in months considering how scary this whole thing was for Kyle. She remembered getting her powers, discovering them by accident… the fear of the unknown in her own body. So many things that hadn’t made sense in those early days… She half smiled at him, and then she closed her eyes and leaned against the couch.

“We are not that lucky Kyle…” she tiredly said. Sure, they didn’t understand why exactly Liz had powers, but Isabel was not going to be hopeful about Kyle losing his… They really weren’t that lucky.

“I really think I’m getting over them,” Kyle seriously said, sitting beside her. “Liz had had her first premonition by now, you know… And… I’m not… doing anything… so…” Kyle trailed off, and Isabel sensed he was searching for comfort and an it’s-gonna-be-alright speech. She sighed.

“I’ve been trying to dreamwalk Dave all week long without being able to enter his dreams… and I’m not sure what that means,” she just blurted out, as if it were the tell-your-darkest-secret-to-the-guy-next-to-you hour. But, she reflected, it was better to talk about her breaking Max’s precious no-dreamwalk rule with someone other than Max. At least for starters.

“I’m sure Max is going to love this…” Kyle sarcastically said as he settled in to hear her out. And just before she started to elaborate, something at the back of her mind made her uneasy. As if something had been tuned down, or just completely turned off… Something to do with Max, actually…


* * *


Time had seemed to slow down almost to a stand still from the moment Liz had started to feel Max slipping away to the exact second when she had reached Jake’s lab door. It all had been impossibly clear to her, every sense in her body heightening in search of any sign of what was wrong with Max. She had never felt more alert in her entire life, and few times had she ever experienced such fear.

She had been feeling their connection getting lower as Max and she had taken different directions, and she had thought it was curious how just two weeks ago she wouldn’t have been aware of Max getting farther from her. At least not while still being relatively near each other.

She had felt Max’s anxiousness growing some ten minutes after they had departed, and she had guessed he had reached Jake’s Lab by then. She knew he wasn’t looking forward to facing him –and she had been slightly surprised when he had told Michael he was going to go get Maria’s present from Jake- but once he made a decision… Besides, he had seemed to want to discuss something important. She had been able to tell through their connection that he’d been restless all morning long, and she just knew that something was bothering him. Something that hadn’t been bothering him the night before.

Liz hadn’t pressed the issue. They all had things to do before Maria’s interview was over, and for the first time in this place they weren’t thinking about doing every single one of those tasks as a group. Nothing would be on time if things had been done that way.

So, when things had started to get lower in her side of the connection some twenty minutes later, Liz had been torn between calling the others, calling Max, or doing something… The more she had tried to get to know what was going on with her husband, the harder it had gotten, as if Max was closing off to her. In fact, as the minutes had gone by and she had kept shopping at The Shop, she had realized he was blocking her out. She had rolled her eyes briefly and had sighed in frustration, but if Max didn’t want her there with him… What was bothering him so much, anyway?

It hadn’t been until she had reached the cash register that she had been really worried. She had felt the first of several peaks in their connection, getting low all of a sudden, only to return to a somewhat normal level a moment later. It had felt as if Max hadn’t been sure if he was blocking her out or not. Or as if he hadn’t known if he wanted to block her out or not.

Then there had been a terrible second when she would have sworn Max had been dead certain he had made a huge mistake, just to regain his control and smooth things out in their connection a moment later. Had he even been aware of how many emotions he was sending her? She had absently passed the things she had purchased to the guy at the register while trying to assess what was going on with Max. A minute passed, and things didn’t change. Half of her mind had been concentrated on putting her things in bags, while the other half had been waiting for any sign that Max was okay now.

Her connection had gone low once again as Max had chosen to close off, at least partially, and Liz would have sworn she had seen a flash of white in her mind. If Max was thinking about the white room, then it would explain why he didn’t want her around his thoughts.

She had stood still, staring into empty space. If Max was thinking about those horrible things, did it also mean that he was afraid it was about to happen again? Her worst fears had taken over for a brief second. If Max was in danger, there was no way he wouldn’t let her know, if only for her to reach the others and get out of there. So no, that couldn’t be it. All the same, she had taken out her G.E.S. and with slightly trembling hands she had started to type a short message: “You’re taking a lot of time. Everything’s alright?”

There. Nothing that anyone reading could misunderstand, and enough to get Max out of whatever situation he was in. He could blame his wife for wanting him somewhere else. And, most importantly, something that would let him know she was feeling something odd from his side.

Seconds had gone by with no response. And then she had felt Max opening up again, a certain reassurance slipping through their connection that things were okay. She had actually smiled at that, feeling slightly silly for worrying so much. And she had just started to wonder what was really going on with their connection being so unsteady when suddenly there hadn’t been anything to feel at all.

Like a candle blown out, Liz had been left in the dark, and a cold sensation had grown immediately in her stomach, a shiver running through her spine making her tremble. Max was out. Plain and simple.

That had been when her senses had heightened, taking in every detail of everything she was seeing, hearing, tasting, smelling and feeling. The air conditioner around her felt too chilly, and the cologne from the guy in front of her was way too strong. Her mouth filled with a mixture of acid and salty taste, which, had she had the time to think about, she would have said it was the taste of dread. She hadn’t even thought about how intense the colors around had gotten, because she had just turned around and started to run towards Max, her bags forgotten, every reason to stay calm and in control forgotten as well. Only the sound of her heart in her ears had seemed to be inescapable.

She had gotten as far as the entrance when she had realized she had no clue where to go. So she had taken the G.E.S. out once again, fighting with the tiny screen, option after option displaying useless functions, until she had finally found the map of this place.

As she had started to walk in the right direction, she had been aware that there was a part of her that sensed she was going, indeed, in the right direction. Somehow, somewhere, she still had been able to hold onto their connection, like an invisible rope in a cold, desolate world. That had calmed her down just enough to regain coherent thought.

She hadn’t run then, but she had walked fast. Fast enough to turn a head or two on her way to Lab 2 – 00 – 22, Jake’s lab. The G.E.S. had mapped for her the fastest way, which wasn’t very far away, yet it still had felt as if an ocean had separated them. As she had been reading the map, the message option caught her eyes again. She had taken a turn, and had typed, “Max?” just as her grip on herself was starting to fade. “You OK?” she had added as she had picked up speed again.

He had said that he hadn’t felt anything wrong with their connection, so surely he was bound to feel her panicking at his lack of response. She had kept staring at the G.E.S. in hopes of receiving a message back, but as the seconds had gone by and nothing was changing on her side of the connection, Liz had typed yet another message, “What’s wrong?”

She somehow had felt incredibly stupid at that. If something was wrong, Max was not going to text-message her back. She had wanted to tell him that she was coming to his aid; that she knew something was wrong but was terrified of writing something that would give him away. She had wanted to say so many things at that moment, especially when she finally reached the second floor below where the lab was. Max was not going to be happy about her getting this close to Jake and his lab, but she screwed it all.

“Max?!” she had sent a last message. If he was in any position to contact her, that would have snapped him out of it, and when nothing had come back, through the G.E.S. or their connection, then Liz had really panicked.

The last corridor had finally come into view, and this time she had run all the way to the right door. She hadn’t read the map for the last two minutes, her instincts telling her exactly where Max was. She could just feel him.

As she had approached him, she had felt heavy. Each step had felt as if she had been carrying a ton of bricks, and her chest had felt as if she had been breathing against a G4 force. Her fingertips had tingled, and she had barely acknowledged that she could start sparking anytime now. She had needed to see Max right there and then.

The next seconds had come in a blur. She had reached the door, she had read the numbers as she had practically thrown it open and then... and then all she had cared about was to feel Max, to know he was all right. It had taken all but a second to open that last door, just to find Jake turning to look at her as her eyes had turned invariably towards Max. And then time had come back to its normal speed.

It was hard to describe what exactly she felt at that sight. All her fears of the past week came rushing back to her with a strength that almost knocked her out, but above all, there was the stinging feeling of betrayal. She turned to look at Jake.

“What have you done to him?”

Her words seemed to vibrate in the room, and as she entered to go to Max, she was met with a slight electrical current in the air around her which she ignored. She needed to get to Max, to touch him and… reconnect with him. And she needed to do it now.

Jake just stood where he was, no words coming from him to deny or clarify what was going on, and frankly, she wouldn’t have believed or cared whatever he had said.

In six long, fast strides she reached Max, bent over him, and placed her hand over his cheek… and then everything felt charged, and warm and… wonderful. All her worries and thoughts melted away as she finally make contact with him, feeling him reaching out for her from within with a mental peace that she hadn’t felt in months.

Tears dropped from her eyes as she released a small but completely heartfelt laugh. She felt embraced, and acknowledged, and recognized immediately. As if something inside of Max hadn’t been sure who she was until now. And the best part was that it didn’t fade away. She felt Max just as strongly as she always felt him when they were close by. When they were touching each other. He felt 100% Max, he was just…

“He’s just… sleeping…” she finally whispered to herself, all the tension draining from her body, making her almost collapse on the couch next to Max. She didn’t care. She was way too happy to care about anything right now. Max was fine, and the world was right all over again.

“Sleeping?” Liz heard Jake behind her, reminding her that she wasn’t alone with Max in that room. “Are you sure?” and his voice sounded as tentative and fearful as Liz had felt herself when she had been up there at The Shop.

She slowly turned to meet his eyes, reluctantly letting go of Max. Even though she didn’t say a word, Jake must have read the relief on her face as he closed his eyes while letting himself fall seated on the couch next to him.

“God, I’m getting too old for this,” he simply said, his right hand going to the bridge of his nose. “You’re sure, right?” he said, snapping his eyes open, “He’s just sleeping?”

Liz slightly narrowed her eyes as she looked down on him. “Why did you think he wasn’t?” Now that her worry for Max was put to rest, suspiciousness came back to her. Had Jake really done something to him? Did he know something she didn’t?

Jake frowned for an instant, just to arch his eyebrows a moment later as he caught Liz’s meaning. “I read the text message you sent a couple of minutes ago. Max fell asleep here as I was finishing something in my office, so when I came back and saw what you had written… I assumed something was actually wrong and…” Jake trailed off, narrowing his eyes just as she had done before. “Something was wrong, wasn’t it?” he asked, and the way he said it reminded her of her father when he had just caught her lying to him. She felt awkward all of a sudden.

Liz slowly shook her head, her eyes pinned to his. “Not wrong… just… off…” she explained, feeling way too self conscious for her liking. However, before Jake could say anything else, her eyes went past him to the screen behind him, and what she saw made her eyes go wide.

“Oh, my God…” she whispered as she turned to look at Max.


* * *


AN: I want to take a moment to sincerely say THANK YOU to xmag for taking the time to translate those lines to French, not to mention all the support she has given me right from chapter 5 when she first PM’ed me!! You are such a cool girl!!!
Last edited by Misha on Sat Jun 16, 2007 8:00 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"There's addiction, and there's Roswell!"
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Misha
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Post by Misha »

Hey guys!!

In the spirit of my upcoming chat (and because it's been a month and a half since my last post) I'm doing something I've never done: I'm posting half a chapter. So, yes, it's long, but the title won't make much sense until I post the other two parts... which I swear I'll try to post soon :oops:

Besides, with six chapters left, I like to make this last ;)

Timelord31, I guess yes... if you call this "soon" :P

thetvgeneral, I'll see you this Saturday!!

TheAntarianKing, I bet you are glad to find out that this half chapter is exactly what you want to read ;)

Allie Xie, I'm coming! I'm coming! And with what you want!!!!

kj4ever, Welcome to the story!! I hope that when you catch up, everything is still good for you :D So, if you are not into post-grad fics, how did you bump into my little world? I'm curious :)




XXX
The French Word



He was getting too old for this, Jake decided the second that he saw Liz’s face change from white-as-a-sheet pale to a radiant smile. He could practically feel the adrenaline leaving every cell in his body, making him take a seat to calm his racing heart. These kids were going to be the death of him, he decided as well.

He had been so convinced Liz knew exactly what was going on that her relief was also instant relief for him. That was, of course, until the rational, scientific part of his mind took over once again and realized that he really didn’t know how exactly this “connection” of theirs worked. He snapped then out of his respite to question Liz further. At least now that she was here he could get permission to get tests done if they were necessary.

But Liz’s oh-my-God whisper sent his blood pressure to hell, as her eyes caught something behind him and then she turned to see her –apparently- sleeping husband. He turned immediately to see what was wrong now, and his eyes too went wide.

That’s some view, he silently thought, amazed as he slowly stood up. When he had been seated, he had inadvertently hit the screen control that had been in his hand and had fallen behind him on the couch when Liz had entered the room, so the screen had changed to the only sensor that he had deemed useless in the present “crisis”. With no real way to understand what it was recording –let alone knowing when its readings were normal and when not- the special “aura” lenses had been the last thing on his mind. Now they were showing an incredible –and invisible to the naked eye- display of energy. Max’s energy.

It was filling the entire room, wall to wall and floor to ceiling, making it hard to see the three people inside it. Though it was mostly white, close to Max it had brilliant hues of blues and light blues, enveloping Max himself and Liz, slowly spiraling as if a lazy current was running inside the room.

It wasn’t the first time he had had a good peek at Max’s colorful energy, but he had never seen it expanding this much. Jake looked down at his hand, almost trying to feel the energy that he knew was passing through his body right now, but he didn’t feel any different than any other day. Questions filled his mind immediately. Why wasn’t he feeling it? Had he grown accustomed to Max’s energy as it had been filling the room? Had it been a slow process or had it been a spontaneous thing as Liz had come in? It took Jake’s mind a couple of seconds to snap out of it as his prime concern returned to his neurons: Was Max really all right?

His eyes still transfixed watching the screen for a few more seconds, Jake finally turned to look at Liz. “Does it feel… different?” Jake asked, not sure how exactly to interpret anything coming from the readings on the screen.

Liz slowly sat next to Max, one of her hands going to his forehead to move some bangs from his closed eyes, her expression worried again. She returned her eyes to the screen once more, and then looked directly at Jake. “It actually feels… stronger,” she finally said, and after briefly hesitating, she asked, “Is it… normal?” apparently not trusting her own feelings and sensations or whatever it was she got from Max and their connection.

“Every other reading is within normal parameters,” Jake said, taking a seat once again, this time in front of Max and Liz, so the screen was showing Max’s energy at Jake’s right. “I don’t know much about what we are seeing here though, but the fact that you… feel that he’s okay actually makes me feel better about it.”

He wanted to tell her that he wanted to run some tests, that he wanted to make sure that things indeed were within normal parameters for hybrid biology, and he wanted to ask another million questions about what exactly she was feeling, but Jake didn’t know how to phrase any of those questions without him sounding… cold. Sure, he had Max’s best interests at heart, but he couldn’t deny that his scientific curiosity was playing a large role here, and more likely than not, his intentions were going to appear fishy. He decided that if things stayed the same for a little while then he was not going to push the issue.

His resolve died a second later when his mind couldn’t stop thinking about what had caused Max’s sudden deep sleep. As harmless as it seemed to be, one didn’t just fall asleep on the couch in a very stressful environment. Silence was slowly but steadily building up just to emphasize how stressful the room could really become. Liz absently bit her lip as she caressed Max’s hand with her own. Such an intimate gesture, Jake thought in the middle of his crowding theories and worries, and for some reason he felt like an intruder in the whole scene. But, since it wasn’t likely that any of the three were going to leave this room anytime soon, he guessed it was going to be sooner rather than later that he had to bring up all those questions…

Seconds kept going by. He spoke six languages fluently and he still didn’t know what to say. The irony wasn’t lost on him.

“He feels… fine,” Liz suddenly said, and Jake understood then that she had been keeping quiet as she had been sensing Max’s condition. “Great, actually,” she continued with a small smile. “He was just so tired all this week…”

“It’s not an easy time for any of you,” Jake said with a small smile of his own. “Changes in general are already stressful, so I can only imagine what you are going through,” Jake paused, and then turned to look at Max. “He must have really scared you right now, though. You said he felt… off?”

Liz nodded a couple of times, her mind clearly still somewhere else. “Yeah… like a light that is not so bright anymore, you know?” she explained, frowning as if struggling to find the right analogy. She turned to look at him. “He hasn’t been sleeping well all week long… And even before that, with the FBI…” she trailed off.

Some reassurance came to Jake from her words though. He had seen how tired Max was, heck, he had even told Max to take a nap less than half an hour ago, and having Liz telling him that Max felt “great” put some of his wildest theories to rest. Maybe Jake was making a big deal out of this… But it didn’t hurt to double check, did it?

“Has anything like this ever happened before?” Jake asked, more confident this time. Now that Liz didn’t seem to think he was out to get information for his own machinations, he was going to try and form a more educated guess about what had just happened. She shook her head.

“Not as far as I know…”

“Headaches?” he continued, his eyes fixed on Liz so intently that he didn’t miss Liz’s whole body slightly tensing up at this inquiry. Maybe he was going too fast too soon. “Most people who claim to have some psychic ability say they get headaches or other symptoms, that’s why I ask.”

Though Jake had been talking with Max, Isabel and Michael on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, he still wanted to have Liz’s perspective on this whole thing. What exactly did she know or had she experienced? What did she know about Max that could help Jake to understand what was going on? Besides Max dying –or whatever that had been- there had been some other odd effects for the hybrids in certain circumstances caused by external conditions, like alcohol. But as for powers-related effects, Jake only knew about the time Max had fainted at the Phoenix Hospital. Yet that was overuse of power, and for all Jake knew, Max hadn’t fainted just now, and this seemingly deep sleep didn’t come from being exhausted thanks to his special abilities. Max seemed to just shut down for lack of sleep.

“No… he was just tired… he couldn’t sleep… and… a-and there was this… thing yesterday,” Liz stumbled upon her own words, clearly not sure if she should confide in.

Thing?” Jake pressed all the same, intrigued. Every time he talked to any of these kids, the weirdest words and circumstances kept popping up. Yet this proved that Max’s sleep might not be as harmless as Jake was slowly starting to believe. Or not as sudden.

“I’m sure it was nothing,” Liz corrected, suddenly feeling quite exposed, Jake thought. He still looked at her intently regardless if he was going too fast too soon. For Max’s sake, Jake needed to know. “For one instant yesterday… I couldn’t… feel him… And Max didn’t even notice I… was… not feeling him…”

Silence. By the way she was looking at him it was as if she were waiting for a mortal diagnosis or something. “I take it that’s not normal?” Jake asked, trying to steer Liz in the right direction so she would tell him exactly what he needed to know. And he needed Liz calm and rational for that.

Liz sighed and briefly closed her eyes. “No… not really… Well, I mean… We thought it was stress, you know? It’s not… it’s not like we even…” she trailed off for an instant as her eyes went back to the screen, Max’s energy filling the room just as brightly as five minutes before. “We don’t even know what’s normal and what’s not…”

You’re kids playing with fire, Jake thought for a moment, and a chill ran down his spine. Of course they barely knew a thing about themselves and what they could do and how dangerous it could be for them and for others. It was one of the reasons Max had wanted to talk to him early in the morning, to get to know more about himself. To get to know what Jake and the Special Unit and anyone else knew about them. They were just scared of asking the wrong man, and they had every right to be scared too. It was all just so frustrating that the kids and Jake were all aiming for the same result, wanting the same answers, yet they didn’t trust him.

Not that any of this was news for him. He had known all his plans and expectations were going down the gutter the minute he had laid eyes on those three on Monday morning, but it wasn’t till this very moment that he was truly aware of how clueless they really were. And what consequences it could have. He pushed his troubled thoughts to the back of his mind.

“Then we should start with what we do know,” Jake said with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “That way we can establish some ‘normal’ parameters and work our way up from there.”

Liz bit her lower lip and turned to look at Max. Jake wondered if she was silently asking her husband if what she was doing was right or not, and a tiny little part of him sparkled at the thought of this bond between them developing into telepathy of some level.

“You said he felt ‘off’. How does it feel when he’s ‘on’?” Jake asked, hopeful that Liz had reached the conclusion to trust him with this information. For one instant, he thought she hadn’t. Liz slightly opened her mouth and frowned at the same time. Seeming to think it through, she closed her mouth for a couple of seconds while her eyes got a lost look.

“It’s just an awareness…” she finally said, meeting Jake’s eyes again, “A… knowledge. I don’t know how else to explain it. I just know things, his feelings…”

Max had said as much when Jake had asked him on Tuesday morning about their connection. Max felt Liz’s feelings and vice versa, though he hadn’t elaborated on that, now that Jake was thinking about it.

“But when you felt Max off just ten minutes ago, you thought something was wrong… Why?”

Liz took slightly more time to answer this, turning to look at Max again. “I’m so used to Max’s connection by now…” she said as she intently looked at her husband’s relaxed face, “that when it went off so suddenly… it scared me…” she admitted with a slight shrug. “I thought for one second that… something had happened to him.”

You thought for one second I had done something to him, Jake corrected in his mind. No wonder she had looked at him with such betrayal in her eyes. It was a logical conclusion, and it threatened to cross his patience limit with dealing with these kids and all these circumstances and trust issues that he had to juggle with. He swallowed his frustration all the same and kept hunting for more small details about how these kids’ minds work.

“So this time was… worse than yesterday’s ‘thing’?”

Very slowly and almost imperceptibly, Liz nodded a few times. “You know… when we go to sleep, I can feel the connection just… getting low, barely there. Or sometimes he just closes off for awhile, or I close off for awhile too… But this was so… sudden. And yesterday he didn’t even notice…”

“And you think it was stress,” Jake recalled.

“It makes sense, doesn’t it?” Liz asked, hopeful, biting her lower lip for the fifth time in as many minutes.

“People react to stress in very different ways…” Jake said, now looking at Max. He remembered seeing Max all tensed from Monday to Wednesday, too wired to look exhausted. And this morning, when Alan had opened the door to find a bewildered Max standing in front of them, Jake had really noticed the heavy toll sleepless nights were having on the teen.

That image of Max standing there actually triggered a quite obvious idea: He had just told Liz to look back so they would come up with some parameters, and hadn’t he already seen exactly that? The real, tangible proof of Max’s stress impact on his energy had been captured on Wednesday morning by the same special lenses that were now showing it filling the room. When Max had shattered the glass door, to be precise.

Jake had looked at the recording for close to an hour after he had dismissed them. Isabel’s energy had been bright with whites and light blues, pretty much still and condensed an inch or two all around her tense body. In contrast, Michael’s had been restless, the bright blues showing and disappearing as his energy seemed to travel around him, sometimes slowly and sometimes fast enough to make one think Michael was worrying a lot about something in that hermetic mind of his. Opposite to Isabel’s, his energy would jump from time to time, flaring some good three feet from him to just dissipate in thin air.

But Max’s had been an odd combination of the two. It would mostly remained close to him, like his sister’s, hardly moving at all, bright blue and bright white merging as his concentration grew deeper and deeper on the book in front of him –or so Jake had thought at the time, just to realize later Max had been concentrating on Liz. But every so often some energy would just seem to come out of the blue some four to six feet from him, flaring sometimes from Max’s own energy, the only indication that it was indeed Max’s and not Isabel’s or Michael’s. And the more time had passed, the denser and stronger those outside dashes of energy had become.

Just three seconds before Jake had scared the three of them by mistake, some of Max’s energy had sort of clustered in front of the door, as if it had wanted to keep going and had just been stuck in that part of the room. And then Max had been startled and his energy had seemed to spark in intense spikes against the glass, shattering it, as the rest of his energy retreated into a tight compressed layer close to him again.

And that, right there, was Jake’s answer. If this was that kind of stress, then he would be seeing something like what he had seen on Wednesday being played out now on the screen. Instead, Max’s energy kept lazily moving, not clustering anywhere, just flowing steadily, like his heartbeat. Like every other single reading he had, everything was within normal parameters…

“I think he’s clearly not sleeping because he’s too stressed out,” Jake said, watching the screen now with more attention than before, “but right now I would say sleep just shut him off. We should let him sleep for awhile. I still don’t like the fact that you felt him ‘off’ though. You two should take this seriously, and not just go around hoping it’s just stress and that it will go away on its own. It can turn into something very dangerous.” Like shattering doors without meaning to, to begin with… Jake thought to himself.

Liz lightly blushed, probably at being scolded, and she lowered her eyes for a moment. “Of course,” she barely said above a whisper. Her eyes turned to the screen one more time. “It looks so peaceful though,” she quietly said, “and he feels so relaxed.”

That he did, indeed. Jake started to relax himself now that he had a better idea of what could be happening to Max. As long as that energy didn’t start clustering, then he would remain optimistic too.

“It must be interesting being around him,” Jake said out of the blue, his voice sounding a little bit wistful to his own ears. Liz smiled all the same, her eyes still fixed on the screen.

“There’s always something amazing going on with Max,” Liz said with such love and conviction Jake had no doubt that she meant it. Now, if she could get into details about that, the non-romantic-all-scientific part of him would be pleased as well.

“When he healed you… did you notice small differences?” Because Jake was also watching at the screen, he missed Liz’s eyes getting wider for a second.

“What differences?” she asked, and Jake would have said her voice had almost sort of darkened at the end.

“Your hair, for instance, was… shinier? It looked brighter, maybe even stronger?”

“How… how do you know?” Liz asked perplexed.

“Because of Phoenix. I think that’s Max’s… ‘problem’ with healing. He didn’t heal just their cancer, he healed every single cut, bruise or even ‘bad’ hair there was. He healed those children in every way that he could, probably because he himself didn’t know the difference among the multiple things he was healing. I think that’s largely in part why it exhausts him so much. But then again, this is just an assumption on my part. I was eager to ask you about the hair, though.” Jake gave her a small guilty smile. Liz slightly nodded.

“What else do you know?” she suddenly asked, intrigued.

“They probably can’t taste much because of lack of taste buds, which may stand to reason. They are investing a lot of resources in their brains to other functions, so they have to shorten out on some less vital skills. The fact that they consume such quantities of Tabasco without any digestive problems also suggest they must have very good stomachs.” Jake chuckled.

“Yeah, I sort of guessed that one too…” Liz smiled at her admission.

“Their blood cells are amazingly adapted,” Jake continued, all excited now that he could share some of his findings with someone who could be just as excited as he was, “They are extremely efficient at carrying oxygen. In fact, their cells in general are extremely efficient, period. Their self healing mechanism is a Holy Grail to anyone in that field.”

“That’s what Meta Chem was after, wasn’t it?” Liz asked, her eyes widening in recognition. “They wanted Max to heal Clayton, that old man… But old age is not a disease…”

“It depends who you ask, I suppose. You can think of it as a ‘disease’ in order to find a ‘cure’. But it’s a natural process that we don’t really understand completely. And understanding how their cells work… I mean, really understanding that, that’s a whole other game…”

“That’s what you are trying to decipher. That’s what you… want,” Liz said, slightly narrowing her eyes as if she were studying him, studying his reaction to her words. What exactly do I want, really? Jake asked himself in that moment. The easy answer would have been, Yes! I want to know how their cells work, how their brains work, how everything about them works! but that would have been such a short and one sided answer.

“I want what’s best for you,” Jake started, trying to organize his ideas to best explain himself, though Liz cut him off in mid thought.

“Best for us…” she almost whispered to herself, “as in let’s-kidnap-you-and-drug-you-for-the-next-three-days best for us?” she sarcastically asked, defiant. So much for building trust.

His ideas kept organizing themselves as Jake sadly smiled. This was a question he had been anticipating since the kids had arrived more than a week ago, and truth be told, they had taken a long time to bring it up.

“Yes,” he honestly answered. Liz held Max’s hand slightly tighter, as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear Jake’s explanation or not. He looked at their joined hands, thoughtful again. “He gets slightly warmer when he’s worried, I’m sure you’ve noticed. That’s why he was sleeping with a plain T-shirt when you were taken at the motel. You, on the other hand, were wearing thick pajamas with long sleeves. It was a very cold night, I was told.”

And I was told a lot of things I’d rather not tell, Jake thought as he looked at Max, his previous conversation bursting alive in his mind, since a lot of his reasons laid on what he knew had happened to him. How much should I tell you, Liz, that won’t betray your husband’s trust? It was the first time he asked himself that, but it was certainly far –really far- from being the last.


* * *
Last edited by Misha on Sat Jun 16, 2007 7:54 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"There's addiction, and there's Roswell!"
User avatar
Misha
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Posts: 425
Joined: Thu Jun 20, 2002 10:44 am
Location: Guatemala City, Guatemala

Post by Misha »

Hey guys!!!!

I'm back with yet another part of Chapter 30. I really should change the title to "One part at a time"... thankfully, this one only has 3 parts... It would have been such a long nice chapter if I had held it all... :roll:

Anyway... because I know how Michael gets, I might end up taking a little bit more time than I thought writing his part, so... better post this now...

Chapters 29 and 30.1 have been edited for typos and grammar mistakes :)

AusCat, Thank you for the link!!! The ones I found were no longer active ¬¬ And thank you so much for your comments! Maria's bday is not that far now ;)

Michelle in Yonkers, oh, sorry... my bad! :D I just write the characters as I feel them -that's why I play in the Canon universe-, so it's nice to know others are enjoying them as much as I do :) It sure doesn't get easy sometimes, but, this is the Roswell I love :D




Soooooo...

Ch. 30.2 - The French Word cont.



* * *


French was giving him a headache.

French and bad news, to be exact. When his cell phone had rang some twenty minutes before, Dave had had no option but answer it. Only a handful of people in the entire world had his number, and they all called him only when something critical was happening.

And something critical was indeed happening.

Somewhere in the world –hopefully somewhere very far away- his very efficient assistant Susset didn’t lose time with greetings and formalities, and had gone straight to the point: she had found a leak on his financial transactions. He had answered her automatically in French because she was talking in French –she was probably in France… or her native Canada, who knew?- but his mind stayed set in English. Funny how his first question had been if she was sure, because if she wasn’t, then she wouldn’t be calling.

Of course she was sure. She had hired a consultant to oversee a monetary transaction between one of Dave’s largest companies and a new genetic research private foundation. She usually didn’t mend with new projects –especially one that had started two years before on Jake’s behalf- but she had been finding more and more small inconsistencies within her own projects, that her mind had started to get suspicious. And a suspicious Susset was something to take into consideration.

He started pacing, in a subconscious imitation of his best friend. Technically speaking, he was himself a thief, so he knew how things could work to steal someone’s money through 1’s and 0’s over the net. He had taken a look at her data about three weeks before and, even if his mind had been mostly set on the kids and getting them to accept his offer, he had seen why was Susset worried.

Now she was calling him with her consultant’s findings. Herbert Millini was stealing from him. Very bad news indeed. Very bad, because Millini was one of those Dave had once offered a deal, and now dear old Herbert was biting his hand. It hurt. A lot. It always did when the people he thought he had saved one way or another, had given a second chance one way or another, went back to their old habits and thought they could fool him. He guessed it was only natural, human nature and all that, but still… It meant that he had misjudged people, and that also bruised his pride about knowing how to read people so well.

Susset had given him a brief but efficient summary as to why she and her consultant were sure it was Herbert Millini who was stealing from him. She wasn’t taking this lightly, because she knew what Dave’s response would be: Leave Millini out in the cold. And the Italian-American guy really wouldn’t like to be left out in the cold. Without a doubt, it would mean certain death.

So, she was offering Dave a chance to review it one last time, to what Dave had immediately answered that this whole mess had to be handled immediately. In his mind, he knew that at the very least, the money leak had to be stopped, and then the thief would be found. “I’ll take care of it,” he heard the words in French coming out of his mouth while he briefly looked at his office door. He was in the middle of his interview with Maria, so, how immediately could he really deal with this? And, as he was thinking that, Susset gladly confessed she was relieved he was finally cutting his over-long vacatios short. Wait, what?!

“Vacation” for Dave meant that he could dump everything else that was going on for a week and focus on one single thing. This year, it had been the kids, and he would have dumped everything else all the same too, but it just so conveniently coincided with his birthday, so Susset never had to question his absence. But by now, ten days had gone without him taking care of his tasks, and the girl didn’t like –or want- this silence for so long.

Still, Dave’s answer came loud and clear, and a bit too rushed. “No, I won’t cut my vacation short for that!” and just as rushed came Susset’s reply that Millini was not going to take too long to finish the job and run with whatever he had. Dave stopped his pacing, a knowing smile on his lips. “It won’t take him long, I know, but it won’t take me long either.”

His eyes focused on Maria’s direction once more. Millini was doing this electronically, which meant all Dave needed was a computer and an internet connection. His very trusty computer was in there, inside his desk… but he could still manage something from his own G.E.S. His mind raced with routines and programs as he estimated the time of how much he should leave Maria waiting for him.

Susset kept talking all the same. The more time he waited, she was saying, the more easily Millini was going to erase his tracks. And as far as she had found, he had already stolen more than a couple of millions of each of her own projects, let alone others. Oh yeah, that would certainly explained her urgency on the matter. She was a hard worker, and she took good care of her budget, and to see someone stealing it… She really had something against people stealing her work, but it was a whole other game when people were stealing her money.

“Yes, I know,” came Dave’s answer, trying to tell her he knew how important this was for her. And her hopeful response made him roll his eyes. Was he going to cut short his vacation then? “No, not on my birthday,” Dave said, meaning every word of it. His mind was already working on how to track his lost money –around 50 million US dollars, as far as he was suspecting- and he actually wanted to have a special birthday not worrying about thieves who thought that they could fool him.

He narrowed his eyes at the thought of Herbert stealing his money… That was exactly what had gotten the stock broker in trouble in the first place. Well, Dave wished the guy good luck when the Italian mafia that was still looking for him finally found him minus the 12 million he had stolen from them four years ago. Herbert was very good at what he did, and that was why Dave had hidden him all that time, but why would Millini suddenly get confident enough to try to steal from him? The prize was too tempting? Or was it the adrenaline of outrun the great Dave?

Whatever. It didn’t matter. He had broken his deal and Dave was no longer responsible for his security. He hung up on Susset after reassuring her that he was going to look into it now. Besides, French was really giving him a headache.

He walked to the nearest couch and, still standing up, he leaned against one of its arms, placing his cell phone on his right pocket and fishing his G.E.S. out of his left one. It took him exactly 14 seconds to access the net and find what Susset had said he would find. Clever, very clever, but still sloppy, Dave thought as he was following the money trail. It took him a couple more minutes to find the program that was feeding Millini’s bank account, and another couple to find Millini’s location as well: at work in Sweden. As if nothing was happening and his clever-but-sloppy program wasn’t stealing from him.

Dave started running a subroutine to tell him how much money exactly was being redirected to this account. It would take a couple of minutes to run from start to finish, which left him with time to kill in his hands. Why did Millini do this? Dave asked himself yet again. Now, Dave knew about set ups –that he knew very well, indeed- and though unlikely, maybe Millini was not really the one behind this whole thing. He re-wrote the program into making phantom money so whoever was keeping an eye into the ever-growing bank account wouldn’t get suspicious. The money leak was stopped, so his priority number one was resolved. He would get back into the Millini problem once he was in Berlin next week. But not before his birthday, that was for sure.

That thought brought back his attention to the fact that today was Maria’s birthday. He wondered how the kids had liked the hut, and hoped that had worked towards calming their nerves a bit more. Jake was right, they were too tense. He wondered too how Michael was doing down there with Danielle… Knowing each of them, they would both survive each other… barely… but they would, they were both too stubborn to give an inch. Besides, one thing was for sure: Maria’s birthday food was going to be heaven. If the kitchen would survive them was another matter.

He pinned his eyes to the door and wished he had x-ray vision. He had taken an awful lot of time by now –12 minutes and 34 seconds- and he knew how restless Maria could get. He highly doubted she was picking puzzle pieces and seeing if she could make them fit. After all, all that was left was sky and sand, so all the pieces now looked pretty much the same.

She was a strange opponent, he suddenly thought. Part of him was sort of condescending because she reminded him so much of Sybelle –and Sybelle knew perfectly well how to talk him into things- but Maria had a way with words that reminded him of himself. She was still a bit rough around the edges, and talked way too much for her own good, but with time and experience, she was going to have a sharper tongue and a faster mind.

Where Isabel had her looks, and Liz had her science, Maria had her wits. None of the three girls would take crap that was thrown at them, as Maria would probably say, but they all three got to put up a good fight, albeit with different weapons. Though, he had to admit, he was having a harder time with Maria than he had expected.

He wondered if he had miscalculated. Maria was probably more tight and jumpy due to the long stressful week, and the more time had passed and nothing wrong had happened to the kids, they were bound to get bolder, slowly measuring up how far they could go. Dave knew because he would have done exactly the same. But he almost shivered at the thought of having Michael today instead of Maria. A more tight and jumpy Michael was actually hard to imagine, but if he had left Michael the last… Then his window wouldn’t have survived, at all. Max had been definitely the safest bet to leave for his sixth interview. It would take more pressure to make Max act bolder, that was for sure. Yet Dave did wonder how the leader of the six was managing with the stress of the long week.

He blinked, returning himself to the here and now, remembering that he had a very pissed off Maria in his office. It almost felt as if nothing he would say would lead to peace talks at this moment, and that annoyed him. Not only had she arrived half an hour later, she had also crossed verbal blades with him, almost cornering him more than once, a feat usually reserved for Jake and Jake alone. Not even Sybelle would get that far.

He guessed the thing that was annoying him the most was that this was a 19 year old girl. He had dealt with way more experienced and definitely way more dangerous people his entire life –let alone the last nineteen years- than this girl ever had, and none of them had kept such attitude towards him. But then again, he had never made this kind of deal before. Not involving six kids, and not involving the entire mess that came with these particular six kids.

He had cornered them as far as he had dared, and he had expected that at some point the kids would sort of fight him back, but he hadn’t expected to be wondering why Maria was being able to corner him so well. He knew that he was too close to a breaking point if he kept pushing them, and that at this particular moment if he imposed himself –as he would normally do with those other more experienced and more dangerous people- he could snap the fragile trust these kids had slowly built towards this deal. So he had to restrain himself of pointing out exactly how many things he could do if he truly wanted to make their lives miserable just for the sake of keeping them here.

Not that it hadn’t crossed his mind. But his long term plan –heck, not even his short term plan- would work if he had them here out of fear and against their will. It wouldn’t do to have them jumping at shadows and not focusing on what was important. It would be a complete mess if they were constantly thinking something bad was happening or that one of them was being threatened. Granted, he had manipulated them through fear, he would never deny that, but nothing he had told them had been a lie, not even an exaggeration. They knew exactly what was awaiting them out there, and they knew exactly how far anyone could go to get them. He had only given them a brief real life taste, and a tame one at that.

But if they wanted more details, they could always turn and ask Max.

Maria’s words echoed in his mind as he recalled for a second what they had covered so far in the past two hours. He had known, of course, he had known a lot of what had happened there because of what Agent Wilson had told him, but it was different when the story was told from the other side. It always was different. As Ray was fond of saying, “there is her version, his version, and the truth,” but he somehow trusted more Max’s blur of memories than the minute to minute detailed description of Pierce’s Medical Technician.

He closed his eyes and let go an annoyed sigh. If something truly gave him a headache, it was Pierce and his Unit, one that he had to slowly and meticulously disband. One of those many messy things attached to the kids, but one that he was partially happy to comply. Anything that had to do with disbanding any US government related organization made him happy, but Pierce’s actions against Max… If only Pierce were alive so Dave could make his life fall into pieces… The galactic set of problems that needed to be solved because of Pierce had made Dave lose sleep in more than one occasion. And Dave rarely ever lost sleep over anything.

Dave cleared his mind. He had already traced a plan to deal with all this, so there was no point on going back to ground zero and how to proceed in this particular problem. And speaking of problems, something caught his eye on the tiny monitor. Just as his subroutine was finishing checking how much money had already been stolen, he saw that his first installed program to divert phantom money was being changed.

“What the hell?” he said to himself, frowning. Someone was messing with his codes, right before his eyes.

It was impossible.

It was ridiculous.

But as if it were a mockery, he was seeing how his precious codes were being changed. Codes that would be categorized as Level Five codes if they belonged to this facility. And someone was messing with them as easily as if he or she were he himself. This was most definitely not Millini. He narrowed his eyes. “You…” Dave said out loud almost hissing, recalling Wednesday’s encounter to whoever had been trying to mess up with real Level Five codes. The only difference was that the compound’s codes were within a labyrinth of other Level Five codes. The one Dave had just implemented was not. If this person could get pass the labyrinth in here, he or she would wreak havoc, being just a step from getting his precious Level Six codes.

Dave needed a computer. Fast. His eyes flashed to the door, and then back to his G.E.S. There was no way he would end his interview with Maria. He wouldn’t have time to reschedule it for at least another month. He contemplated for a second if he could enter that room, open his computer, and completely ignore her.

Calm yourself down. He got a hold of his very bruised pride and reassessed his priorities again. This was one outside Level Five code being compromised, not a direct attack to this compound. Still, measures needed to be taken. Reaching out for his cell phone, he made a decision.

“Who is this?” a suspicious voice answered at the other end of the conversation.

“Jeremy, I have a Level Five breach and I need your help,” Dave stated, not bothering with identifying himself. All cell phones and land lines in this place were monitored by Network Keepers, and when Jeremy had seen this “private” number appeared on his caller ID, the list of suspects would have been a very narrow one.

Five seconds went by without a sound. Granted, the kid could have had a heart attack at hearing the voice of the guy he had been chasing since he had been 15, but… Jeremy was barely 24 now… surely his heart could take the shock. “Jeremy, now,” Dave pressed.

“What do you need me to do?” came Jeremy’s voice, sharp and alert. Yes, Jeremy was fun to play cat and mouse with, but when things got serious, Dave knew that this young man knew his way around Level Five codes. It was only that Jeremy was not as fast and creative as whoever was trashing his codes right now. It didn’t matter. Once he hung up he was certain all his 12 stationed Network Keepers would get to the task.

“I’m sending you right now the information via your G.E.S. but what I need you to do is to shut down his access any way you can. He’ll try to piggy back into our signal while you are at it, tracing us here, so make sure that doesn’t happen either. I’ll take care of this in about—” he glanced at his watch, “two hours. If for any reason you can’t cut him off, shut all ports here and alert all other facilities to do the same. I don’t care what he finds out in the meantime as long as he can’t get access to this or any other place, understood?”

“Yes, of course. I won’t let him anywhere near us,” Jeremy answered, a certain pride in his voice. There was plenty information this unknown hacker could get without even touching any of his sensitive projects, and plenty of money he could steal as well. Dave didn’t even want to think what he would find two hours later if Jeremy and company hadn’t been able to stop him. Or her.

“I know you’ll do your best,” and with that, Dave hung up.

So much for trying to return with a clear, calm mind, he mused as he reluctantly logged off. Now more than ever, he really didn’t want to enter that room and get tangled into the winds of the hurricane that was still very much going strong in there. He had been out for 16 minutes and 24 seconds now. An idea crossed his mind then: Why Maria, you have had plenty of time to be snooping around… And he wasn’t sure if he should worry about that too or not.


* * *

AN: For any confusion anyone might still have about what Maria heard when Dave was talking on the phone, this is the exact part but in English ;)

Are you sure?” the words came muffled again. She was fairly certain it was French, and the words sort of rang a bell on her memory. Something like “are you correct?” He kept talking, and she kept listening… and frowning too. It didn’t help matters that she was listening to half the conversation. Why couldn’t he be talking in Spanish?! She would have had more luck with that…

No, no, it has to be done immediately. I’ll take care of it,” Dave sounded closer, and she had no clue about what he had just said, except that he sounded too serious for her liking. “No, I won’t cut my vacation short for that!” Maria frowned deeper. Vacation was a word she actually understood: Vacation. Well, he had said to Liz he was on vacation, hadn’t he? Dave sounded farther now. Was he pacing?

No, I don’t care…” Dave continued, making Maria sighed in frustration. What was he saying, for crying out loud?! “It won’t take him long, I know, but it won’t take me long either.” Okay, so Dave was talking about a him? Something about time? Oh, stupid language, she cursed as she glared at the door. Dave must have walked further because now Maria didn’t hear a thing.

Yes, I know,” Dave’s words came loud and clear almost at the other side of the door making Maria jump an inch. “Yes, I know”, she understood that last sentence. “No, not on my birthday,” Dave kept saying, his words sounding distant again. He definitely sounded as if he were pacing. And what had that been? Birthday? Didn’t that mean “Birthday”? What, he was talking about her? Maria pressed harder against the door, her eyes narrowing, going to the numbers on the wall.
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Misha
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Joined: Thu Jun 20, 2002 10:44 am
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Post by Misha »

Hey guys!!

Well, as promised, within the two weeks I said it was going to take, here's the final part of chapter 30!! (and you'll finally get to know why it is called The French Word :P)

A MILLION thanks to both xmag and Michelle in Yonkers for their help with the French translations! These two chapters wouldn't have been the same without you girls!!

And another MILLION thanks to my wonderful betas, Kathy W and thetvgeneral!!

AND THANK YOU GUYS for coming back to read! even if I take forever to post...

Hopefully... this Michael part will be worth it... I certainly had a lot of fun writing it!!



* * *

The French Word
cont.


If everything were really measured by the first impression, then everyone would have been worshipping Danielle Bijou. But when it came to the second impression, perception would play a very funny trick… if only anyone would stop to think about it to actually find it funny.

When Michael Guerin finally arrived at the kitchen area, he was stopped in his tracks by the woman standing in front of the massive chrome-like metal fridge, just some 12 feet from where he was. She was beautiful by many men’s standards, and Michael would have had to agree. It wasn’t just her straight, light-brown, waist long, shinning hair, or the thin, perfectly chiseled face, nor the slightly tanned white skin. No, not even the big, almond-shaped, hazel-bluish eyes, or the tall, cat-like, slender body. No, what made Danielle Bijou beautiful was how all those things were combined together. How it all perfectly matched. How her hair would move so gracefully, as her perfectly symmetrical face turned, those deep, knowing eyes burning into whoever was in front of her.

She really was beautiful.

And then, the spell was broken.

The funny thing was, few men would really understand that the spell was broken after the first three seconds of contemplating Danielle had dissolved into the French cook’s first glacial glare. The one look that was trained to measure men just as if she were measuring her condiments and fresh vegetables at the market. And Michael Guerin was actually among those few. He knew exactly what the woman in front of him was doing, and he didn’t like it.

Which, as the symmetry of the universe would have it, was exactly the same feeling Danielle Bijou had of him: She didn’t like him either.

Maybe if Michael had known that she was wanted for double murder –completely and totally in self defense, even if her deceased husband’s associates wouldn’t think it that way- then he would have given that glacial glare a little more… heed, but it would hardly have made any difference as to how those two’s first minute in the same room had gone.

Yet when the second minute started, her eyes moved to the White Card hanging around his neck, and something flickered in those dangerous –and beautiful- pupils. She soundlessly closed the fridge door without getting anything out and turned to walk opposite Michael’s direction.

“I’m the Head Chef,” she stated with a French accent, not bothering to turn to look at him, “I understand you requested a banquet for six?”

Even her voice sounded beautiful… but all Michael noticed was the edge of annoyance and the smidge of coldness there. She was not doing this out of the goodness of her heart, that was for sure. Some inner otherworldly sixth sense warned him that this woman was dangerous, and he half believed it right then and there, which was a mistake: he should have completely believed it right there and then.

“Yeah, I need lunch for six, Italian. Spaghetti or something.”

This time she did turn around, raising an eyebrow. “I see…”

It could have been his imagination, but he would have sworn the temperature had dropped some four degrees. And in the subsequent hours, it would only get colder.

In fact, in the subsequent hours, a lot of things were going to get colder, starting with Danielle’s voice and ending with Michael’s glares. But, during those first minutes before Michael actually got a clue as to what he had really gotten himself into, they were interrupted by two men, in their mid-twenties, animatedly talking, Black Cards hanging from their necks. Network Keepers.

They both stopped in their tracks as they saw Danielle and Michael in the middle of a seeming conversation. Michael had a sense of déjà vu as these two reminded him of Monk and Fly.

“Oh, company!” one of them said referring to Michael, as the other smiled with mischief in his eyes.

“Le genre stupide,” Danielle said in French, glaring at them and then turning around, walking to the other side of the kitchen where more fridges were waiting.

“Oh, don’t you just love it when she insults you in that darned language of hers?” the second one said, his eyes trailing after Danielle’s beautiful body, the same smile still on his lips. “It never gets old.”

The first one kept his eyes on Michael, “So… Martin… Melvin… Michael! Michael, right?”

Michael nodded. For one glorious minute –or two- things were improving for Michael with Network Keepers around… Maybe, just maybe, one –or both- would be willing to let things out in the air as Jeremy had yesterday morning at the Gym.

“White Card, uh? Impressive,” the first one said. “Now, if you have as many brains as your Color Card suggests, then I’ll give you just four words of advice here: One, never mess with her knives. Two, the less you say, the better her food is going to taste; three, don’t answer her when she talks to you in French; and four,” he said, lowering his voice so Danielle –who was behind the big chrome like fridge door at the far end- couldn’t hear him, “never, ever, mess with her food.”

Before an hour had passed, Michael was going to do all those things. Twice.

“You must really want her food if you are here on a Friday morning,” the second Network Keeper whispered as well, passing a hand over Michael’s shoulder. Michael tensed at the sudden embrace, but kept it to himself in hopes of gaining some trust bonding. Hope which would die soon enough.

“What do you mean?” Michael asked, frowning, his voice low.

“She’s the Head Chef and so she has to prepare tomorrow’s menu. Saturdays are always special,” his embracing partner said, “which means she’s bitchier than usual…” A statement onto itself, though Michael was not really going to be aware of that until a couple of hours later.

“Or so we have been told,” the first one said in a clearer tone, glancing at his watch. “We better keep going if we want to make it on time.”

Michael frowned even deeper. Weren’t they going to stick around here, helping him pass the time around this Danielle person whose glares were going to give him goosebumps in about twenty minutes?

“I thought you were coming to the kitchen…” he trailed. He had been around the kitchens –there were three, and this was the first- on Tuesday morning. He had heard all about community service or whatever, so he had been fairly sure these two Geeks were going to help out here.

“Are you nuts?” the second one said, looking at him as if he had said something stupid –a look that he would soon get used to with Danielle around- and both Keepers shook their heads. “We’re going to the next kitchen. This place is a war zone with Danielle around here, especially when she’s not alone in her kitchen.”

Now, that statement was a bit exaggerated. After all, war for Danielle had an entirely different meaning, especially while competing against other chefs, and Michael would hardly qualify as one in her league. Besides, war had been exactly what had brought the best out of her on that night when she had unknowingly been serving Dave.

Oh, the Fates that had worked then were probably having a good laugh now that they had joined such forces of nature as Danielle Bijou and Michael Guerin in the same kitchen –of all places- and though it wouldn’t last, both had very good reasons to make it through the morning and the cooking process.

Michael thought about Maria as Danielle closed the door and glared at the Net Geeks scurrying past her to the next kitchen. She turned around to one of the drawers, opened it, and started arranging her very sharp and very professional looking knives on the table.

“So,” Michael said after taking a deep breath, “Spaghetti, and a salad. I can manage the beverages and stuff.”

Stuff,” Danielle repeated, cold.

“Yeah…” Michael frowned, suddenly unsure around this woman. “I’ll do the cake too.”

“Are you serious?” she asked, half indignant and half shocked, as if Michael couldn’t do that simple task.

“Of course I am,” he said, half indignant and half annoyed.

Dave had assured him that Danielle was the perfect person to give him the perfect birthday lunch he so wanted to give the girl of his life, but he was dead certain that he was going to bake the cake. That was one of his goals for this day, and he was going to be damned if he couldn’t at least do that. And though hell awaited him –partially unknowingly to him- he was going to finish all his goals that day… one way or another.

He remembered briefly Courtney asking him what a chick had to do for him to make a cake, and he had wasted no time telling her that it wasn’t something she could handle. Ha! The day he referred to either Maria or Isabel as a “chick” was the day he was in for a long rant. And he would know… he had gotten long rants for less –even if it was his entire right to say whatever he wanted and he was making no apology for being who he was. Still, as the warrior he had once been and the one he sort of was now, he knew the value of choosing his battles well. And arguing over calling Maria –or Isabel- a chick was high in his priorities of battles to avoid.

But, whatever it was that a “chick” had to do to make him bake a cake was something big, Michael knew, when Danielle finally blinked as if perplexed, her perfectly shaped eyes wanting to ignite him or something, her hands taking a knife each.

“Listen, and listen carefully,” her French accented voice would have frozen a candle right then and there. “You want a banquet for six, I want to get rid of you. I’ll give you your Italian, and your salad, and you’ll stay quiet.” She sharpened one knife with the other, the sound reminding Michael of some scene in Braveheart.

It seemed like a rational proposal… from Danielle’s point of view, of course. Michael’s ability to choose his battles well fled the door, though. Partly because not so deep down he was worrying about Maria, which was making him jumpier than usual, and partly because he was being treated as if he was a five year old. And Michael Guerin could only take so much when it came to taking orders. One only had to ask Max about that.

And as Max would also tell, Michael had a tendency to… snap when things reached his boiling point.

“Hey! I’m not some idiot who doesn’t know how to cook, okay? I’ve worked as a cook before, and I know what I want.” He had a point…well, sort of. And when Danielle pierced him once again with those eyes that seemed able to burn holes, he… well, he got really defensive.

“It’s not as if cooking some pasta and adding some sauce is a big deal.” Someone in the very distant future was going to tell him to never argue with a cook about cooking, when said cook was holding a knife in his hand… let alone two.

She stopped in midair, the blades reflecting the light in sharp angles. And Michael was almost afraid, but his annoyance at this woman’s disposition blinded every thought. What the hell was wrong with her? Had he taken the time to find out, he might have found curious that she was thinking exactly the same thing: What the hell was wrong with him?

Her eyes darted for one fleeting instant to his White Card, and very slowly she finished sharpening one knife with the other, the sound being almost musical in the tense silence that followed Michael’s statement. He was sure she was going to say something about not cooking for him, and part of him was more than willing to cook the whole thing for Maria himself, but… he did want a special meal, something that tasted different than everyday food. And by now Maria knew every single flavor he could conjure from food on the road.

She muttered something in French. He couldn’t have cared less.

“You’ll find all the ingredients I’ll need in the next kitchen,” she said, the knives slowly reaching each other’s tip. “So you’d better make yourself useful.”

Once again, she turned her back to him, this time to open the upper shelves, bottles of condiments starting to fill the table where the knives were.

“How am I supposed to know what you need?” Michael asked, confused.

“My, my,” she said, her eyes on her condiments on the upper shelf, her voice a mockery of a sweet tone. “It’s just pasta and sauce. I’m sure you can figure it out.”

If Michael had stopped for a second and tried to have an insight, he would have concluded that she was, plain and simply, tactless. The fun thing would have been, though, that if one searched for the word in the dictionary, her picture could have been illustrating the definition... hers or Michael's, depending on the version.

And so, a mostly silent, hardly companionable, cooking session began. After all, just about when Michael was going to say something about her being snobby and him not taking that kind of crap, something made Michael shut up and stare blankly ahead. Because he had been concentrating as much as he had dared on sensing Maria, and so his entire being was more aware than ever, something at the back of his mind suddenly went… off.

He shook the sensation as quickly as it came, though he suddenly felt anxious about Max. Yet just before he could really think about it, Maria’s fiery spirit came through, making Michael smile inwardly at the thought that Dave was definitely not having it easy. It made Michael proud, and he momentarily forgot his retort. So, he had to compromise. He could do that. Sort of.

He did figure out what Danielle wanted for her cooking... after his fifth going and coming to the next kitchen, that is –where everyone was having a good time and looking at him with pitying eyes. He had almost dropped it all to the floor and turned the hell out of there when he had returned the first time with what he would have used, just to have Danielle tell him he couldn’t really expect her to cook anything with such disappointing ingredients, but by then whatever she was cooking smelled just plain heavenly. And she had done so with barely any ingredients at all.

He almost yelled at her when she poured a generous dose of cream into the sauce. He actually got as far as opening his mouth, getting some air, his face indignant, just to have Maria’s force coming through yet again, and he knew then that she deserved every bit of everything and anything he could manage. Even if it involved swallowing his pride for just a couple of hours… and having cream in his sauce.

The resolution died about five minutes later.

He took to the task of cutting vegetables for the salad, and nothing looked sharper in that room than Danielle’s knives. So he absently took one and started cutting the freshly washed potatoes as she continued preparing the sauce. A second knife cut clean through the potato as soon as he started with the first one, effectively pinning it to the cutting table. Fine, white, long fingers held the knife, and if Michael had been able to look closer, he would have seen the cuts and scars that years of cooking and cutting had left on Danielle’s skin.

“Not with my knives.”

Michael had been “this close” of instinctively reacting to Danielle’s knife in front of him with a blast of his own. And though he hadn’t seen it, he had felt the sparking green electricity just beneath the surface. His response out loud, however, was automatic as he voiced his first thought.

“Are you nuts?!”

Yes. When it came to Danielle’s knives –and cooking in general, but especially her knives- she was nuts.

She just glared for a second at him, and with practiced ease removed the knife from the table, leaving the potato behind.

“You just can’t go pinning knives in front of people’s faces!” Michael said when Danielle resumed adding spices to the sauce. She didn’t answer him. Didn’t even look at him. In fact, for the next ten minutes, she didn’t even seem to know he was there.

The temperature kept getting colder.

Water boiled beside him a lot faster than it should have as he finished cutting the potatoes, his mood the darkest it had been since… well, probably since last night when he was talking to Maria about her interview.

Before Michael noticed, she had half a dozen burners going, different things bubbling around. Of course, it finally dawned on him, she was cooking for tomorrow’s menu as well. Hadn’t the Net Geek said that earlier? That she was bitchier than usual because it was Friday morning?

She kept disappearing into the other kitchen, her mind definitely set on her work, and for that Michael was glad. He could bake his cake in peace. Or at least try to. But his blood boiled as he saw that Danielle had started baking a cake as well some fifteen minutes afterwards.

“Look, I can do the stupid cake—”

It was the first time since she had taken her knives out of his reach that she turned to look at him, glacial voice matching glacial look. “You are not making this cake. It’s not for you or yours.” Michael frowned, and the silence kept stretching.

The thing he would never, ever admit in the years to come, was that he actually paid attention to what Danielle was doing in order to get his cake right. Sure, he had memorized the recipe a month ago, but still… Isabel hadn’t complained about her cake –well, not too much, really- back in the day, and he had baked one or two cakes afterwards at the Crashdown’s kitchen, but he had never really baked one worthy of this occasion… and the smells starting to mix in the air were making his mouth water.

He wanted to make lemonade. Lemons were piling around as Danielle cut them and sprayed lemon juice here and there, and the idea sort of stuck in his mind. He liked lemons, a lot, and the light green variety that was in front of him made him think of Maria’s eyes.

Maria had gotten calmer too… Not too many outbursts coming his direction now and that made Michael nervous. More nervous, that was. At least he wasn’t feeling anything he was dreading to, and so he absently took the closest knife he had at hand to start cutting his lemon.

This time the knife stabbed thin air as it pinned itself half an inch away of Michael’s left hand, as his right hand was stretched out reaching for the lemon.

“What is it with you Americans? Everything has to be spelled out for you?”

Well, technically, I’m not an American, Michael stupidly thought for a very short-lived second as he felt his fingertips tingling, barely restraining the impulse to blast the darned knife out of his sight. Beside him, more water boiled.

“Would you quit doing that?!” Michael all but shouted at the woman in front of him.

“Avec tout ce que j’ai eu à supporter, on m’envoie en plus un idiot! Aujourd’hui!”

Michael had no idea what Danielle had said, but he didn’t like it. It looked as if she was talking more to herself and the heavens than to him, but that did nothing to appease his anger.

“Stick to damned English, will you?!” It was infuriating to have someone yelling incomprehensible things at him, especially since he couldn’t defend himself… and he couldn’t storm out of there either.

“C’est ma cuisine et je dirai ce que je veux, dans la langue qu’il me plaira, tout le temps que j’y serai!”

“Just because you are the damned Head Chef or whatever the hell, it doesn’t give you the right to stab knives and insult people!”

He figured she needed to hear that, and that, well, what the hell, he needed to say that too.

“Oh, tu es si brillant, Carte Blanche,” Danielle said with disdain, but Michael didn’t pay attention to that. He had been struck with one word: Brillant.

The flash he had gotten yesterday afternoon at the Administrator’s office, that Richard man, came more vividly to him than ever before. Brillant, the word echoed in his mind, as a younger Richard went through the file. The file that now Michael understood was in French, making it impossible for him to understand a word of it, and making it the hardest for Michael to be able to focus on the flash as well.

That didn’t stop Michael from understanding what Richard was thinking, though, since the guy was British, and his thoughts were going in English as he was simultaneously translating the French file in his mind.

Richard had been chasing Dave, and what Michael had gotten a glimpse of had been the first time Richard had sat down to read Dave’s file. “un gosse brillant” automatically translated into “a brilliant kid”, which was how the file had started, and the word had stuck in Richard’s mind through the entire file. David –and not Dave- had been part of some obscure secret from the Cold War days that the Americans didn’t want his Allies to know about, but 19 year-old David was now on the loose, his mind full of secrets that could easily give the advantage to the other side, especially now that everyone was desperate for one final blow to the Russians.

And then there was that tiny elusive piece of the flash where Richard was seeing, face to face, a slightly older David, both men knowing this was the end of the chase, though at some point between the file reading and this meeting, Richard had become the hunted… and Dave had won.

“You just stay away from my cuisine,” Danielle’s icy voice came through, returning Michael to the here and now, the French accented words still making the flash linger at the back of his mind.

And at the back of his mind it stayed for the next couple of hours as he set to bake his cake, silence descending once more in the kitchen. He made a point of staying away from Danielle’s knives, the smells around him making him think that, after all, this was worth it.

And though he kept returning to what he had seen, trying to focus more fiercely on what else Richard was reading, what else Richard had learned in that file, he found that baking a cake was really not all that easy… especially when he caught sight of Danielle’s disapproving glances from time to time.

“Next year,” Michael murmured to himself, “I’m buying Maria this stupid thing…”

Though, to be truthful, the next year -and all the years afterwards- he kept baking Maria her birthday cake... and he really got good at it too.



* * *


Author’s Notes: the parts in bold are the original French lines ;)

-----

“Oh, company!” one of them said referring to Michael, as the other smiled with mischief on his eyes.

“Yeah, the stupid kind,” Danielle said in French, glaring at them and then turning around, walking to the other side of the kitchen where more fridges were waiting.

-----

“Would you quit doing that?!” Michael all but shout at the woman in front of him.

“Oh, of all the things I have had to put up, I was also sent an idiot! On this day!”

Michael had no idea what Danielle had said, but he didn’t like it. It looked as if she was talking more to herself and the heavens than to him, but that did nothing to appease his anger.

“Stick to damn English, will you?!” It was infuriating to have someone yelling incomprehensible things at him, especially since he couldn’t defend himself… and he couldn’t storm out of there either.

“It’s my kitchen, and I’ll say whatever the hell I want on whatever language I please while I’m here!”

“Just because you are the damn Head Chef or whatever the hell, it doesn’t give you the right to stab knives and insult people!”

He figured she needed to hear that, and that, well, what the hell, he needed to say that too.

“Oh, aren’t you so brilliant, you White Card,” Danielle said with disdain, but Michael didn’t pay attention to that. He had been struck with one word: Brilliant.
Last edited by Misha on Sun Sep 02, 2007 7:48 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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Misha
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Post by Misha »

Hey guys!!!

Well... I couldn't make it an entire chapter, but at least is half a chapter... because if I keep you waiting I won't be able to live with myself... So, yeah, here's the first part of chapter 31, Background. I only have it corrected by one beta, so some typos and grammar corrections might come on a later date ;)

I'll try to go faster with the next part, but, you know... since it is a Dave-Maria part... sighs...

Anyway, to happier news!

THANK YOU SO MUCH to those who voted for The Offer!!! I won for "Best fanfic it seems no one is reading, but everyone should be!" eerrr... I'm not sure if I want "everyone" reading, though... the pressure would increase!!!! But yeah, now I have a banner to show off :D

Image

And congrats to all the winners and nominees as well :)


So, to answer some feedback:

thetvgeneral, thank you sooooo much for your valuable input and putting my doubts to ease :D Every author should have their betas on chat :P

Michelle in Yonkers, I'm posting!!! I'm posting!!! Dave's reasoning to that first day will have to wait a little bit more, though it will happen before this day ends ;)

Hey! I torture you?!?!?! but! but!!!! buuuuut!!!! you should see the mess my mind gets when I start pacing, fixing every plot hole in sight... I torture myself, so, there! we're even :P

tequathisy, thanks for the compliments on the map! I made it by request of another reader on another board, and though it's just a sketch, I hope it does help to place everyone somewhere...

Timelord31, I hope next part will come before the month ends!

nibbles2, yeah, I know... I have to post more often...

Ellie, it's so weird to see someone feedbacking the same day I'm going to post! Ahem... the 8 year mystery will have to remain a mystery a bit longer... okay, for a long while still, but it'll come into the light. It's my pleasure to research for you guys. I love my story, and I love to have all the details right, so... we both win ;)


So, here's the first part... I hope you enjoy!



XXXI
Background



“You really expect me to believe all you took was one single blood test?” Liz’s voice sounded cold even to herself, but she didn’t care. She had a warning bell ringing at the back of her mind reminding her that she had to be careful with what she said and how she said it, but Jake hardly looked intimidating, and they were discussing very sensitive things.

Beside her, Max didn’t even stir, though the constant flow of his energy around the room was still reflected in the screen, and it was well felt through her connection. Still, now that her own emotions were turning into a rather rebellious and indignant stance, she was getting a low but distinctive uneasiness forming from Max’s side.

Jake didn’t lower his eyes to her, but slightly narrowed them, as if considering something.

“What do you think Dave wants?” Jake asked, his voice serious. For one second Liz thought that Jake wanted to divert the conversation, distract her mind from the topics they were discussing. Yet he was too focused on this, like he wasn’t backing up, just taking another angle.

Or maybe he just knew that she didn’t want to answer that question, at least not truthfully, and certainly not openly.

“He… he wants to know how their powers work.” She almost added a “right?” at the end of the sentence, but it would have sounded too doubtful. And she didn’t want to sound anything but confident right now.

Jake kept looking at her for two more seconds, and then he lowered his eyes, slightly letting go a smile.

“You know it’s something else,” she stated, her hand unconsciously holding Max’s harder.

“Some ten years ago,” Jake said, turning to look at the screen at his right side, a slightly vacant expression on his face, “I used to live near a sports bike store. And once or twice a week, I would always see this girl, this young woman really, standing in front of the glass, intently watching. It didn’t matter if the displayed bike changed, she would just stay there for some ten minutes, and then she would continue.”

“What does this have to do with Dave or Max?” Liz asked, rather rudely she would think later, but a creepy feeling had been crawling at the back of her neck for the past few minutes. What if the screen started showing something coming from her, even if Max’s energy was covering her entire body? She suddenly started to feel vulnerable.

“Why do you think the girl was stopping there?” Jake asked, as if Liz hadn’t said a word. He turned to look at her, emotions briefly conflicting behind his eyes. Yet he offered her a warm small smile, almost as if asking her to indulge him in this question.

“Because she wanted a bike?” Liz finally said, going for the obvious answer, which was exactly what Jake was expecting anyways.

“I thought that too,” he admitted, his small smile getting a bit broader. “I happened to meet her by chance one afternoon, though. It turned out she was an interior designer. She had no interest whatsoever in bikes, at least not a personal one, but the store was one of her clients. So, you see, she had never wanted a bike, she was always checking the background.”

Two seconds went by as Liz waited for Jake to continue, but when he didn’t say anything else, she frowned.

“What do you mean? That Dave is not after the obvious?” Liz asked, tensing, unsure. She didn’t like to be unsure, especially not in Dave-Max related matters.

“I think you should see that there’s more than just what’s on display going on here. There’s a lot of background to pay attention to.”

“So you’re saying he’s not into their powers?” Liz said, eyebrows upwards, disbelief written all over her face, in a fairly good imitation of Michael’s sarcastic tone, though she wasn’t really aware of it. Seven months living together, things were bound to rub in.

Jake took a second to answer, almost as if he were thinking through every word and its possible consequence. “Not exactly. I think you should take into consideration that there might be other… interests besides the obvious one, and way beyond the dark places where your thoughts are taking you.”

She was just about to argue that he and Dave had taken three days of their lives; that they had played with their darkest ideas, had twisted situations, and had altogether scared the hell out of them, but Jake’s eyes were regarding Max with a mix of warmth and… sorrow? That made her hold her tongue just one second longer so Jake still got to keep talking.

“I know what’s out there, Liz,” Jake said, barely above a whisper. “I don’t have to imagine it. I’ve seen more than just written reports, like Dave has, and way more than just twenty four hours, like Max so unfortunately experienced. When I said that what I did was for your own good, I meant it.”

A shiver ran down her spine. On the screen, Max’s energy started to get tighter, and flow just a bit faster. What—Who was the man in front of her? Who was this Dr. Jake?

“I knew it was risky at best to go with Dave’s plan…” Jake paused, apparently searching for the best explanation, “I also knew it was bound to have trust issues to put it mildly, of course, but he had a very good reason to want to scare you the way he did.”

“We’re not children, you know?” Liz said, barely holding her outrage. A good reason? Please! “He could have talked to us, we would have understood!”

“You would have thought you still had a better chance out there,” Jake said calmly, way too calm for Liz’s liking. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Max’s energy was starting to take a bluish tone on the screen, but her mind was more preoccupied on the man in front of her than the colors showing there.

“You don’t know that,” she retorted. What was up with Dave and now Jake being so sure they would have said “no”? Granted, she didn’t know either what they would have done if Dave had just presented one day and offered his deal, but still…

Jake sighed in a very wary and tired manner, as if he hadn’t been sleeping much lately.

“Why did you return, Liz?” Jake’s question came out of the blue. “You were already on the road, for all you knew your only real chance to escape… and yet you turned around twelve hours later and came back, trusting Dave’s word. Why?”

Because we wanted to believe Dave. Because we wanted to stop running. Liz’s thoughts returned to the car where the six of them had been discussing what to do on that night where they had been “set free” from the warehouse. How Michael had been so sure this was the worst idea ever. How had she pushed for logic on the fact that Dave’s tactics could only mean that he was intending to back up his offer. Dave had gone to so much trouble, so much detail to prove his point…

“We already know what awaits us with the Special Unit. We already knew we couldn’t keep running indefinitely… and Dave had just… brought the point home, I guess.” Oh, and I lost the power to see into the future, so we were doomed from that moment on… No way to keep escaping then… Talk about the lesser of two evils… It was so ironic to be thinking that while under Jake’s special lens. Her uneasiness grew. She wondered if the screen would show anything unusual about her if Max’s energy disappeared.

“But if you didn’t want to keep running… What if Dave had never appeared, then? Would you have given in to the Special Unit eventually?”

Liz’s eyes went wide with fear at the thought of Max just giving up to the FBI. Those glimpses she had gotten that night in that deserted van in the middle of nowhere… the haunted look in Max’s eyes, the way his body had been trembling, knowing it hardly had anything to do with being soaked in cold water… She almost imperceptibly shook her head no.

“You see,” Jake said, leaning all the way back on his couch, “there are risks you are willing to take without fully knowing the ending, all the variables, just some facts… And there are other risks that are just not acceptable. I was afraid that you losing three days would actually fall into the unacceptable category, but Dave assured me why you would come back.” He looked intently at Max, and Liz did the same as if expecting Max to wake up, but nothing had changed with her husband’s posture.

“Now I have to deal with the fact that you don’t believe me about what happened in those three days. That’s why I need you to look beyond the obvious.”

He turned to look at the screen, just as intently as he had been looking at Max.

“It just doesn’t make sense,” Liz said, trying to start over. Just a blood test didn’t sound right, at all. “You had in your power three half aliens, for three days… You must have done so much more than just a blood test!” Her scientific mind just wouldn’t take any other approach. Wasn’t she always half-teasing, half-asking Max about his powers? She never got tired of seeing him using them. And at the back of her mind, she was always wondering what was happening inside Max, what was making it… work.

And then she had gotten her own powers, and she would spend hours watching herself in the mirror, searching for something different, something other, sometimes fearing it, sometimes marveling at it. And just as with Max, there was nothing else, nothing on the surface at least to be seen.

A ghost of a smile appeared on Jake’s face, almost as if he were laughing at some inner thought.

“It was never a matter of… getting their blood.” Jake returned to his previous position, leaning forward on the couch, his eyes now piercing hers. “I already have the files Meta-Chem had… and the ones from the Special Unit.”

A chill ran down Liz’s spine. She instinctually reached through her connection for Max. He wasn’t feeling so calm anymore, but she was reassured he was fine for the moment that it took her to check for him as images of the flashbacks she had gotten from Max after his rescue returned to her mind.

“Three days of tests for some factual data, cell storage, and with a very wild imagination and a leap of faith, future genetic experiments, was not what I had in mind, Liz. You had to lose three days for Dave’s plan to work, and I had to make sure you were okay. That’s why I did the blood tests. And that’s exactly why I didn’t do anything else: I didn’t need to…”

Jake trailed off, and for second Liz almost, almost said with indignant outrage that he had done way more than just a blood test. He had willingly participated in their kidnapping, not to mention that she had woken up in clothes she had been wearing the last time she had been awake, something she really didn’t want to think about all that much. She felt trapped. On the screen, Max’s energy was condensing, now occupying barely half the space it had in the beginning, but neither Liz nor Jake noticed.

“You didn’t have any right.” At the bottom of things, that was really what this was all about, Liz knew, because Jake –and Dave- had taken advantage of everything they could.

Jake closed his eyes as if regretting something, and then he opened them, looking at the table in the middle, Maria’s present looking rather out of place considering what they were discussing. “I’ve seen so much pain in my lifetime…” he said with a far away look that transcended the square wrapped package. “And then out of nowhere Dave found these three, scared, hunted kids, with these amazing qualities that guaranteed no normal life…”

For an instant, Liz found herself in an empty room, miles away, ages ago, talking to a “friends-plus” Max about how he had gotten cheated in life. About why he was not allowed to take off and go to Sweden. About how his life was so different from hers from the get-go. About how it guaranteed no normal life.

“I know what… uniqueness can do to your life, Liz,” Jake was saying, but as she looked at him, she really felt angry at all these men, all these organizations that just burdened Max, hunted him for just being him. And for the final touch, he was destined to a life he wasn’t even really aware of, memories so buried in his mind they didn’t even matter, a world light years away waiting for someone who couldn’t even remember why he should go back in the first place. The whole thing was so unfair.

“So tell me,” Liz said, her eyes hard on Jake, trying to keep in sight what this was about, “after all this talk, tell me what’s in the background, then. What am I not seeing?”

“I thought it was going to be obvious by now,” Jake said with half a smile. Liz just arched an eyebrow. On the forgotten screen Max’s energy swirled tighter and tighter, less than 1/4 of the room now lit brightly in whites, blues, and light-blues.

“He offered you protection in exchange for cooperation. You think he wants only the cooperation part. What if he also wants to protect you?”

Cooperation, how lightly said.

“Why wouldn’t he say so then?” she said, frustration dripping from her voice, tired of trying to get out of this circle of finding what was in the background or why should she believe there was a background to begin with.

“Because it would sound too convenient,” Jake patiently answered her. “Because if by some twisted design he really doesn’t even care about the cooperation part and only the protection, then you wouldn’t trust him to be telling the truth.”

The truth?! After all he had done, trust him? There was only so much she could take right this moment.

“You kidnapped us! Drugged us! Trapped us in those awful rooms!” she all but shouted.

“And I would do it again, right now, if it meant buying you one more week of life!” Jake’s answer came just as avidly, as if something had snapped in that calm of his, trying to make her see that he really cared. The funny thing was that… she actually believed him.

But just before that thought could sink in, or Jake had the time to explain himself, right between the two of them Max’s energy finally collided into one dense, green, energy shield that made them both stop dead in their tracks. Jake’s face looked distorted, almost jello-like, as his eyes went as wide as hers in surprise. She recovered quicker than he did -though, to his credit, he had never seen Max’s shield before- and turned to look at Max. Had he awakened to their almost-yelling and thought she was in danger?

Max wasn’t awake… yet. He was slightly frowning, and his eyes were moving beneath his eyelids, his breathing increasing. The flow of his energy through their connection shifted slightly as he was retreating into himself while he was regaining consciousness. Finally, he slowly opened his eyes, coming from a very deep sleep. In front of him, his shield dissolved without him really noticing it, leaving a still stunned Jake staring at him, though Liz barely noticed this out of the corner of her eye.

“I had the weirdest dream…” Max began, automatically searching for her as he would have done had he awoken on their bed. The realization that they were anywhere but their bed hit him hard as he looked past her, his eyes now just as shocked as Jake’s as recognition dawned on him. “What are you doing here?!” he asked her, quite frankly terrified, as they both turned to look in front of them at Jake, and a second later they turned to look at the screen.

And a second later, the screen exploded.


* * *

AN: The story about the interior designer, is partially true ;)
Last edited by Misha on Mon Oct 15, 2007 10:08 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"There's addiction, and there's Roswell!"
User avatar
Misha
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Posts: 425
Joined: Thu Jun 20, 2002 10:44 am
Location: Guatemala City, Guatemala

Post by Misha »

Hey guys!!

Just off the presses! My second beta got attacked by RL, so THANKS A MILLION TO behrinthecity FOR TAKING THE TIME!!! You are the BESTEST girl!!! :D

Good news is that, while waiting, I did manage to write more than half of next part, so that shouldn't take too long now :) (Have I mentioned that I love writing Max?)

ken_r :waves: Thanks for reading!!

Ellie, did I ever thank you enough for nominating yet again Not Human? THANKS!! Where the data gets collected and what it shows for the entire time -from Max entering to the screen exploding- will be told on a later entry... but before this book ends :) And ooohhh, he *is* going to freak out ;)

Timelord31, it could also mean that I'll post the last chapter of book 1, keep writing books 2 and 3 without posting, wait for the eight years to pass by -that should be around 2011- and then come back and post the whole thing in two weeks :D How about that?

sighs... at least I'm hoping those books will be shorter...

Michelle in Yonkers, it's good that you reserve judgement on Dave. He might be doing good things and bad things... but will the good outweight the bad? Is he actually a *good* guy? Maybe he's really just the bad, bad, BAD guy many think him out to be, and he just hasn't made up his mind about how to exploit them... We'll see...


So, here's Chapter 31, part 2 :)


XXXI
Background
cont.




The cracks in the window made Maria stop in her search. How long had it been now? Ten, fifteen minutes? But there was something mesmerizing about the way the glass was shattered in such tiny fragments, that when she had turned to look out the window thinking someone was out there, she had just stopped and stared at it.

Here was testimony of Michael’s power, but it was also a testimony of his frustration with this whole situation. And here she was too, trying to make things better by understanding this man and his motives beyond any shadow of a doubt. Not that she had made much progress, but she wasn’t exactly expecting the guy to have a secret number scribbled on a piece of paper in his trash can.

Not that she hadn’t checked.

When she had gotten up from the door and had made a beeline to the desk around ten minutes before, she had been a little bit surprised that every single drawer was unlocked. Granted, there weren’t many places to go looking either, but at least she had been able to take a look everywhere.

It only had five drawers in total, two on each side and one in the middle, and she had wasted no time starting with the first one on her left. Glancing every two seconds to the door, half of her mind thinking what she would do if Dave suddenly entered, she had been momentarily taken aback when the first thing that had greeted her was a rather big, colorful “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” card at the top of the drawer.

For one terrifying second she had thought that Dave had planned this, planned on leaving the room, and had left the card there to mock her intents of discovering something about himself. It was her birthday after all, though for the past two hours it had been a fact that neither of them had talked about.

It was his birthday too, Maria had finally understood, as she had read in small, neat handwriting “getting closer to the 40’s?”. Her eyes had wandered for a moment on the puzzle. Dave had told Kyle this was an early birthday present, so his birthday had probably been some day earlier this week.

Her heart had started beating again.

Under the card had been a stock of white blank paper sheets, some pencils rolling around, highlighters, office stuff… useless. She had closed it, glimpsing at the door. She couldn’t hear Dave from here, but that didn’t stop her from opening the middle drawer.

A closed, black, very modern looking notebook computer was kept in there. A computer that would most certainly hold this man’s secrets, plans, projects. Everything. What were the chances of her getting it out, hiding it, finishing this interview, taking it out of this office, and opening it in her apartment for someone to be able to crack into the system? Maybe he didn’t even have a password.

Sure…

She had closed the drawer with a frustrated grunt and had continued with the right top drawer. So close yet so far away… she had cursed under her breath. She had cursed yet again as the next drawer contained yet more paper sheets, more pencils, more highlighters, more office stuff. What was up with this guy and office stuff, anyway?! And just before she had closed it –glancing yet again to the door- she had heard a muffled sound coming from the drawer. Looking inside more thoroughly, underneath half the stock of paper, was an asthma inhaler.

Isabel had had a flash about this inhaler, about Dave having an asthma attack, and how Jake had scolded him for not having it with him at all times. As far as Isabel had been able to tell, Dave really hated having asthma and the inhaler was a constant reminder of his condition. Not for the first time Maria had wondered if what Dave really wanted was for Max to heal him. The thought must have had at least crossed his mind, she was sure of it, but as far as Dave knew, none of them was aware of the fact that he was sick.

Besides, it would have been more logical for him to do an approach like the Meta-Chem owners, than to go through all this mess. Still… there was no guarantee Max wouldn’t be asked to heal him in exchange for some other favor. There was a slight problem though: Not even Max was sure if he could heal asthma. He had never done so.

She had closed that drawer as fast as she had opened it, going next for the bottom right one. This one was big, and as she had opened it, she had finally found where all the paper sheets were going once used. There probably were more than 500 paper sheets stocked there, all written as far as she could see, in small, clear handwriting. She had taken a handful to inspect more closely.

Numbers. Row upon row of numbers and math signs and notations had met her eyes, giving her a slight headache. Had Dave been there, he would have patiently and cheerfully explained what the numbers, equations and notations meant. The first 56 pages were the formulas that NASA was stuck with on the new propulsion chemical they were trying to develop. Chemistry was not Dave’s strongest point, but he was trying.

The next 43 pages were about that intriguing math problem astronomers were trying to solve about multiple dimensions. It was such a complex problem that it was taking the combined efforts of a lot of math geniuses out there to solve it. He had been hopelessly dragged in like a moth to the flame. Even if he could only anonymously help a bit to solve it, he would be a very happy math whiz if his contributions helped figure it out.

The next 124 pages were of random equations he had been sort of thinking about when the puzzle had gotten boring. Half of those he had started on the plane back from Berlin the past week, though, and the other half had been mostly done while watching Jake sleep after his allergic reaction to those nut cookies he had eaten back on Saturday, giving him an allergic reaction. When Dave’s mind was racing with a million problems, math would invariable intrude at the back of his head, just like those songs that wouldn’t shut up at the back of her mind and let her think straight when she was worried.

The 346 pages left in the stock were programming lines, mostly Level Five codes that needed to be reviewed or corrected, but Maria’s interest hadn’t gone as far as the bottom of the stack. All this Maria ignored, as page after page of math gibberish passed by her searching eyes. Though, even if she had known what they meant, she would still have found them pretty much useless.

It would have been the Holy Grail for Network Keepers.

Having closed the drawer with more force than necessary, Maria had turned yet again to the left side of the desk, her ears straining to catch the slightest movement from outside the door. Opening the last drawer, she had finally hit jackpot.

Well, sort of.

Letter sized blueprints were stashed at the top of this drawer. She had eagerly taken the first ten or so and started looking through them, just to realize a second later that they were in German. Great! First stupid French and now freaking German?! It hadn’t stopped her from trying to understand all the same. By the look of it, they were the blueprints of a three storey building. Handwritten German notes were in various places, but those didn’t match either the neat handwriting from the “Happy Birthday” card or the small handwriting from the stack of papers on the right bottom drawer. It was Ray’s, just as the card’s had been Jake’s, though this Maria couldn’t have known.

She had placed the blueprints aside and gone deeper into the pile. Photographs had rewarded her efforts, although photographs of who was a whole other matter. The backgrounds though had German signs on them, and as she had kept looking at picture after picture, she had realized that the pictures were as much as of people as of the place itself: A three storey building. Ha! Her instincts were as good as ever!

Her triumph had been short-lived, though. What good did it do to her to know Dave had some interest in an old building in Germany? This was one of those moments when she wished she could get a flash from the darn pictures or whatever. Still, she went past the first twenty photographs and kept looking for something else than the German men and the street and the building.

Bingo!

At first, she hadn’t been sure why the picture looked familiar. A satellite picture of, what she had guessed first, a road motel. And as the seconds passed away, she had realized that it was indeed a motel, but not just any motel, but the one where they had been ambushed by the FBI, just three days before Dave’s men had gotten them. They had barely made it out of there in the middle of the night, losing half of their possessions, with a wounded Michael, and pretty much no hope of staying ahead of the Special Unit with Liz having lost her powers.

She had taken a second one, and a third one, all zooming in, and as she had taken a fourth picture she had found a note at the bottom: Too close. She frowned. Looking with more attention to the details, she had seen that there were tiny dots around the entire place. People. Or more likely, Agents. This picture had probably been taken some hours after the ambush had failed.

She had suddenly felt cold. They had narrowly escaped. What if they hadn’t? Where would she be right now had the Special Unit gotten them? Too close was definitely an uncomfortable thought at best, and an understated terrifying feeling. Too close indeed, enough to scare them out of their minds when Dave finally got them.

She had set those thoughts aside and had kept looking, her head peeking for a second over the desk, the door still as closed as the minute before. No Dave in sight, no sound around but the one she was making as she had dived yet again into the pool of pictures.

Further in, she had found the pictures of the motel where Dave’s men had trapped them more than a week ago. She had gone through those faster, knowing that any second now Dave was bound to cross through that door. No notations here, just a silent movie frame by frame where she had been able to discern ambulances outside the motel arriving, staying, and then going. So that was how they had been transported, no one being the wiser.

She had gone deeper, but the pictures had changed location. German again. And deeper than that, they had changed to French; another old building, more pictures of men that didn’t have anything to do with her. At least, not as far as she knew.

Before closing the drawer, she had thought for a long moment if she should take one of these pictures, from their motels, and take it to Michael and the others. She couldn’t have flashes, but they sure could give it a try. She had decided against it, thinking that Dave could very well notice the loss without much trouble. The idea was good though, so she had stood up and opened the top drawer again, taking a worn out pencil and placing it in her right pocket.

She had closed the drawer slowly, her eyes already on the last obvious place she had yet to search through: The trash can. Which, as she had found out just two seconds later, was frustratingly empty. Way too clean for a trash can too, she had thought, wrinkling her nose. Finally standing up, she had stared at the door. It was almost unthinkable that she had gone through all those drawers with Dave being just a few feet from her. She had let go a mischievous smile. Until she had heard something outside, at her back, that had made her jump out of her skin.

Just a lonely bird on a branch.

The same lonely bird was still on the branch now as she contemplated Michael’s power demonstration in the window right in front of her.

Too close, the words echoed in her mind, an uneasiness creeping at the back of her neck. Whatever Dave was or wanted, at least they had remained together and unharmed for the last week. Yeah, tell that to the window, she absently thought, her eyes fixed on the center of all the tiny lines, where Michael’s force had impacted first.

What was Michael doing now? Maria worried for a second. She teased him around and tried to ease his fears, but as she was contemplating why Michael had almost blown away the window, she let herself really fear their decision of being here. It was business, she had told herself, and that was the all clear explanation as to why Dave was going to keep true to their deal, but what did she know about this guy, really?

He liked absurdly big puzzles?

He was an asthmatic, know-it-all, multilingual, math-wise-ass, infuriating man who couldn’t turn off his cell phone during an interview?

A business man, with piercing hazel eyes, a body that didn’t hurt to look at, and clearly a god complex?

She arched an eyebrow in contemplation at her own thoughts, her eyes still fixed on the shattered window. He also had the confidence of a cat walking on a fence: Calculated, flawless and effortlessly. She guessed it was a very good trait to have if you were on his side… Right now it was just annoying. He was a good listener though, the kind that made you feel comfortable enough to tell him your darkest secrets. Michael could learn a thing or two from this guy.

She snorted. True, Michael was nowhere near winning the “boyfriend of the year” award, but he usually listened to her when it really mattered. Still, picturing Michael listening intently for four hours was just, well… hard. She was actually surprised that he had managed all week long without breaking things –the window notwithstanding, since he had done so on purpose- and that so far, he had stuck to the deal better than she would have ever imagined.

Unknown to Maria, water kept boiling twice as fast as it should on a kitchen way below her.

She had meant every single word about not being the damsel in distress. That had been the driving thought that had awakened her this morning and was still fueling her frustration at this whole thing. That Dave had started with Max’s confidence in her had been so disconcerting she still wasn’t sure what to make of it.

The thing that made her nervous though, was that last dangerous look he had gotten before leaving the office. He was not used to being talked to the way she had talked to him, she was sure, but nervous or not, she was not going to back down. She was getting somewhere, she was sure of it.

And if nothing else, she had managed the pencil. Though… what if that was not enough, or wouldn’t trigger any flash… She had to get something else, something different, something meaningful. There was bound to be something else she could take from this place to help the Pod Squad get a good flash.

She turned around with all the intention of opening those drawers yet again, her eyes set on the desk for a second just before her heart skipped a beat at seeing Dave at the door, their eyes locking as he was entering and she turning. In that moment, she felt as if he had watched every single one of her movements, read every single one of her thoughts. In other words, she felt caught. And when he spoke his next words…

“Found anything interesting?”

…she knew she had been.


* * *
"There's addiction, and there's Roswell!"
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Misha
Addicted Roswellian
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Joined: Thu Jun 20, 2002 10:44 am
Location: Guatemala City, Guatemala

Post by Misha »

Hey guys!!

Sorry for the delay, but this time the part comes corrected by both betas :D LONG LIVE THE BETAS!!!

Anyway, this is the last part of chapter 31, and 32 is already in the works! And that one promises to be... ahem... revealing ;)

So, okay, let's answer some feedback!

behrinthecity, soooooo good to have you around girl! I bet Dave *is* a cat person too, now that I'm thinking about it... hhmm... Anyway, it took me so long to write the Danielle-Michael part, that I have to at least make references now! :P That pencil... ooohhh possibilities... endless possibilities...

Timelord31, well, at least we are getting closer to Max's interview. As things stand right now, I might actually end up with 37 chapters instead of 35... sighs... At least these last chapters have lots and lots of answers :)

AusCat, thanks for reading!!

ken_r, Dave didn't plan for Maria to go spying on his things, you know? The cell phone call and the trouble with the hacker were really out of his control. He is aware that Maria had the opportunity though, and is not sure what she'll make of the things he has in his desk.

xmag, whatever Maria decides to do, it should be something unexpected for Dave. And Dave knows he's on a bad spot right now with the girl, so *he* also has to change the way he's going around this interview.

thetvgeneral, thanks for being such wonderful beta!!

tequathisy, Dave and Maria are actually easy to write separate but a pain to write together... sighs... Anyway, you'll have to wait for chapter 32 to see how it goes. At least that's the opener part ;)

Michelle in Yonkers, well, this *is* a Max part... the shortest I've written about him, but yeah... By this point I've just stopped altogether trying to decipher on what chapter Maria's bday is going to end up... Anyway, there's an interesting part coming up on chapter 32 about another perspective on what Dave was doing and why during those two years of spying.

And Dave definitely didn't see her taking the pencil. He was entering the room when Maria turned around to go grab something else. You can say he busted her with the intention of lurking in his desk.


Now, here's chapter 31.3:



Background
cont.



It was all absurdly still.

Or so Max thought in those few precious seconds between the screen shattering and him being able to unglue his eyes from that particular spot. Jake would have told him that it was because a large concentration of oxygen had flooded his brain cells, distorting his perception of time –and Jake would know, he had been working on that for quite some time before coming to Dave’s aid- but Max had way too many things going on at the same time in his mind to really think about why time seemed to have stopped altogether. Even his heart seemed to have stood still in his chest.

It all had started with the comfortable couch. And the silent room. And his tired eyes.

Next thing he knew, he was having a weird dream -though as soon as oxygen had flooded his brain, he had completely wiped it out of his memory- and the next-next thing he knew was that he was waking up to the sight of the woman he loved. So, in that moment in time, things were actually pretty good.

The next chain of events though, was actually rather complicated and, in retrospect, kind of weird too. Two lines of thought divided the moment that Max realized that he was not in his room or apartment or whatever alone with Liz, but in Jake’s lab.

So the first line, rather confused, asked the inner question of Why are we in Jake’s lab? while the second went with the more paranoid notion of Why is Liz not supposed to be here? The second line of thought beat the first one with the all terrifying answer, because Jake would know! that prompt the first line to ask out loud, “What are you doing here?”

For a fraction of a second, Max felt time slow down for the first time –the first wave of oxygen- which gave him enough pause to feel his connection with Liz, so vibrant, so alive, and so crowded with a million emotions coming from her and from him that it threatened to knock him out cold if he actually tried to disentangle them right then and there.

However, his second inner voice went right to the next urgent question, are we alone here? which made him leave Liz’s beautiful, worried, and shocked brown eyes to turn to see what was really going on. Time almost came to a complete halt –the second wave of oxygen- when he saw Jake there, open mouthed, staring at him, and he briefly thought that Jake and Liz shared a strangely similar look.

His first line of thought got stuck with one single thought, he knows everything! and kept spiraling into a train wreck about what it meant for all of them now that Jake knew. Yet his second line of thought drowned that endless inner babbling with a more cold approach, is Liz actually showing on that screen?

That was the first moment when he noticed that things looked as if they were going in slow motion, if only because he felt an eternity went by as he was turning to look at the screen. And there it was, such a bright electric blue that even he got scared –making the blue slightly brighter- and though it was surrounding him and Liz, he couldn’t be really sure if it was all him, or if Liz was playing a part in the energy surrounding them… or if Jake would know if there was any difference at all.

He panicked.

Part of him was in a complete meltdown, while the other part of him tried to rationalize what had happened, what was going on, and what he should do next. His instinct of fight or flight got stuck as his two lines of thought ran in opposite directions: The first one wanted to flee that place with Liz by his side, ipso facto, while the second one wanted to stay and do some damage control.

He was rooted to the place, his mind going blank for a split second, as his eyes contemplated bright blue lines sort of sticking out of himself, as if he were a lightning monster or something. It would seem later to him –much, much later- that his first line of thought must have confused “flight” with “fight”, because that was the only logical explanation as to why he had just exploded the screen into a million pieces –and, in the present state of things going absurdly slow, he had actually seen the entire thing going off as some really cool Hollywood effect. Not that he had found it cool right then and there.

If his two lines of thought had been able to sit down while watching all this unfolding in front of them, the second line of thought would have just stared at the pieces and sarcastically said to the first line, “Are we having fun yet?”

In truth, he had gotten really scared that if Jake got as much as a glimpse of that screen, he would have actually known that Liz was special. Logically, the screen wasn’t really picking up the energy in that room, just showing it up, but destroying it would mean that he was buying time for Jake to not know.

Or that was how his second line of thought ended with as time finally caught up with Max. It had taken less than ten seconds from the moment he had realized he wasn’t in his room to the moment where the screen’s tiny, burnt pieces were falling to the floor, but for all Max knew, an entire hour had gone by. Jake would have told him that, because oxygen had to leave vital organs of his body to rush to his brain and aid him in the “flight or fight” decision making, it could only sustain the “slowness” period for a very limited time. Sometimes, the process was so automatic and with such reaction short time, that the brain wouldn’t even process colors, making the entire scene look black and white.

But right now the only black was the pieces smoking accusingly on the floor and the only white was the skin of all three in that room. In fact, Max noticed right then, that not only were things absurdly still, but they were also absurdly quiet. Though, to be accurate, things weren’t “still” now, the three of them just were kind of paralyzed in their places… not saying a thing.

He needed to get Liz out of there.

The last of his second line of thought got a hold of himself with one simple statement, You can’t start acting guilty. A little late, considering the blown up screen… Still, running out of that room wouldn’t exactly clear his actions either. It would only make things worse.

On the other hand, he couldn’t risk Liz being in that room any longer than she had already been… He realized right then that he actually had no idea of how much time his wife had been there. What had happened to him?

“Are you all right?” both Jake and Liz asked at the same time, both looking at him as if he had suddenly woken up from a six month coma.

Technically speaking, he was more than all right. In fact, he actually felt so… vibrant.

“I’m—I’m not… sure,” he finally managed, turning to face Jake and then Liz. Her eyes were so worried for him, and his were so worried for her. And then the strangest thing happened: They shared an electric shock, audible through the entire room, making them let go of each others’ hand in a second, with a barely audible gasp.

“I think you could use some water,” Jake said, breaking the momentary surprise between Max and Liz. They both turned to look at him leaving the room, and as one they both stood up, following him immediately. They both knew Liz shouldn’t be there, and they were not going to waste such golden a opportunity.

He made Liz go first, as he turned back, searching for Maria’s gift. He was not coming back into this room while Liz was still around. The red-wrapped book was still on the table, and Max snatched it in one fluent move. Gosh, he actually felt so aware right now, aware of every turn, every heartbeat, even the way he negotiated his weight from one foot to the other as he bent for the gift and then fully stood up to turn around and leave for good.

Even if Liz hadn’t been a factor to leave the room, the smell of the burnt pieces was actually starting to make him nauseous. Since when was he so sensitive to smells, anyway?

Once he was out of the room, he almost collided with Liz, who had spun around to look at him, from head to toe, almost as if she could x-ray him.

“Max, are you alright?” she asked him again, the scent of her shampoo coming in waves a little strong.

“Maybe you should lay down,” came Jake’s voice as he was opening the mini-fridge at the other end of his office.

“I feel fine,” Max reassured Liz first. “I’m—I’m sorry about…” Max turned to look back. Maybe he should go and try to put it back together… guilt started to intrude in his thoughts. After all, this was the second thing he had shattered or broken in Jake’s lab in the last three days.

“Nonsense,” Jake cut Max’s sentence, “but you should at least sit down.” Jake came with a cold water bottle and handed it to him as he motioned with his hand that they both should sit down. Max was just about to argue when Jake’s next words startled him into silence.

“And while you calm down, I’ll tell you the truth of what has been going on for the past seven months.”


* * *
"There's addiction, and there's Roswell!"
User avatar
Misha
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Joined: Thu Jun 20, 2002 10:44 am
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Post by Misha »

Thanks for coming back to read!!

Though I couldn't get the entire chapter, Jake's part already has 4 pages written, so... it shouldn't take as long now :oops:

I will properly answer feedback tomorrow, but for now, here's half of Chapter 32.



XXXII
About Before



“Found anything interesting?”

The words hung in the air, and for some reason Dave almost expected them to echo. He had just entered the room to find Maria staring out of the window, and then all of the sudden she had turned and had started to move towards his desk.

It had been almost 20 minutes since he had left. Had she actually waited that long to work up the nerve to go through his things? It was unlikely, but not impossible. Still, seeing her petrified in mid-stance was too good to let pass. If she hadn’t already gone through every inch of this office, then she was just about to.

“Oh, God! You scared me!” Maria said, effectively breaking the paralyzing spell. He slightly narrowed his eyes as he entered the room fully and started closing the door. He had just been dealing with an extremely intelligent hacker. Now he had to deal with an extremely good actress.

“And, as a matter of fact,” Maria continued, “I did find something interesting.” Maria smiled at him. There were 8 kinds of smiles, and only 2 were sincere. Dave was trying to decipher which one of the other 6 she was giving him. He had seen the look in her eyes, so fixed and determined on his desk.

“I bet that scared the hell out of you,” Maria kept smiling sweetly, lifting her right hand, her thumb signaling the shattered window behind her.

That was bold, Dave thought, astonished for a second with Maria’s words. He couldn’t afford another round where they were both throwing hit after hit until someone would actually connect a knock out, and he also couldn’t go back to treading on thin ice as he had done in the beginning. He needed another approach. He actually needed to be equally bold.

“Yes,” he answered sincerely. Hell yes! would have been a more accurate answer. Michael’s display of power had actually made Dave’s mind recoil more than 30 years back in time. A memory had been brought back so abruptly at the sound of that shattering glass: so quick, almost silent yet resonating in the quiet of the room; a memory of such long time ago. For a second, his mind had gotten lost in an equally tense room, shots breaking the silence, the windows shattering all around him. And he had stayed still. So still. It had been then that he had learned that it was better to stay still when he was as scared as he had been.

“He’s deeply in love with you.”

It was Maria’s turn to look astonished. Probably not because she doubted it was true, but because he had said it as seriously as he had admitted that Michael had scared the hell out of him. It wasn’t a question either, just a flat out statement.

Silence stretched out in the few seconds it took him to cross the length of the room and lean against the right corner of his desk, facing the window, his leather chair between Maria and himself.

“And it took you what? Three minutes to figure that out?” Maria sarcastically said as she looked at his profile. Dave’s eyes remained on the window. You’re good, Dave silently praised her for not letting his statement shock her more than few moments.

“Less.” He answered with the same tone, pausing, making her wait for an explanation. “It took him less than three seconds to shatter that window.”

She returned her gaze to their point of discussion, the shattered glass still covered with the transparent plastic so cold air wouldn’t be able to penetrate the room. “He challenged you, didn’t he?” she asked him rather absently, as if she were lost in thought.

“He warned me,” he corrected her. Had Dave been completely honest, he would have added, I challenged him first, but if Michael hadn’t shared this particular point of their meeting with her, he wasn’t going to do so either.

Maria turned to look at him, almost stare at him, as if she were deciding something.

“How do you know, really?” she finally asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest, frowning a little.

Dave took a few seconds to define something that was so glaringly obvious yet so hard to put into words. He could have named her a hundred and more moments that had been captured on tape, on film, on digital devices, but that wasn’t what came first to his mind. It wasn’t on the obvious, but on the subtle, that Michael had really given himself up.

“It’s in his silence,” Dave enigmatically said, though this time Maria didn’t press, she just waited for him to elaborate. “It’s in the way he doesn’t want to talk about you. He’s too aware of his feelings that he’s afraid he might not be good at hiding them once he brings your name up. When he warned me with the window, it was just the last confirmation I needed.”

Maria’s eyebrows arched, a bit surprised, her eyes going to the floor, thoughtful. “Why do you need to know all this stuff?”

He almost wished his cell phone would ring now again. He had already answered this question and its variants to all the other kids, and yet they still didn’t get tired of asking. He guessed it was because he knew or perceived such intimate details of their lives that they would like to know why. Shouldn’t it be enough that their stories were so unique to anyone’s life on this planet that their value was priceless? What a historian would give for just one chapter, one day in the lives of these six teenage kids!

But he was no historian, was he? No, and he would never accept such a passive place either. Watching without interfering was just… wasteful. Something neither of his parents would have been able to stand, to just passively watch. Dave wondered for the briefest of moments if they would have been proud of him and his ways.

He honestly didn’t know. Their ways had been of the fast reward kind. Everything had to happen now, things had to change today, not tomorrow. Dave’s way was more of the “planning for the long run” type. He had been told, by his parents and by pretty much every single adult he had encountered in his childhood, that he was meant to change things, to change the world. Because of who he was, his parents had said, truly believing in the power of one; and because of what he could do, all the others had added, using his intellect for their own ends.

He was no child anymore, and he had his own ends now. But one thing was for sure, he was not going to passively watch.

“I need to know if I’m going to regret our deal,” Dave finally said, turning to look at the girl with the green eyes, blond hair, and hurricane-like temper.

Maria half chuckled, half snorted. “You need to know if we won’t have a nervous breakdown and run on you, uh?”

Dave slightly smiled. She didn’t know limits to her boldness. The fact that her statement was partially true made it funny, though. Not that he was going to admit it to her.

“I was more thinking in terms of not tying all the loose ends, actually. Making my end of the deal being more… extensive than I originally thought,” he told her instead. There certainly had been surprises and no small amount of leaks to be sealed off as he had gotten to know the details that had been so elusive for the past two years. The kids hadn’t been exactly careful; they had seemed to have luck on their side a great deal of time, and they had managed some pretty remarkable allies as well. But they had to get better on their own. If another Pierce came after them in the future… Dave had no illusions that there would come a time when the kids were going to be out and around, but he had to ensure they would be able to defend themselves or else…

“Terrible things could happen…” he said more to himself than Maria, forgetting for a second he was thinking out loud. But just for a second. “If I’m not careful around you, I’m going to get more than a shattered window. Michael’s love for you could mean terrible things for me,” Dave amended, making his out loud thought part of his dialogue with Maria.

“You should have thought about that before caging us here,” Maria said. Another thing the kids had been saying to him. Had everyone forgotten he had given them a choice and that they had accepted to be here? What? You didn’t have anything to do with ensuring that? Jake’s voice came into his mind. He shut it up.

“It seems I should have thought about a lot of things before bringing you here… but then again, time was running short.”

“Why? The FBI was getting too close?” Maria said, arching an eyebrow. No, she definitely didn’t know boundaries to her boldness. So she had searched through his things. What had she thought, then? What had her intuition told her?

“I wouldn’t take it so lightly,” he simply said, making a fast inventory of his belongings. “But you’re right, they were getting too close and I had to act with what I knew,” Dave kept talking, finally standing straight and walking to the cupboard. “So, I ended up with six extremely stressed out teenage kids, who half believe what I say, half expect me to turn on my word, not to mention that three of those said kids can pretty much collapse this place if they really wanted to.” Dave reached the cupboard and bent over. Nothing Maria had seen was of extreme importance, not without someone to explain it to her. “If you ever thought you are the only ones here with everything to lose,” he said as he got two Cokes out of the fridge, “then you don’t know your own limits.”

He wasn’t kidding, but it was strange that they hadn’t considered the possibility of all the damage they really could do in this place. Besides, saying it would give them that sense of security, of control, that they were in desperate need of feeling, especially Michael and Max.

He straightened up, facing her. He just hoped Maria would be a good messenger and tell them that.

“Then you’re wasting your time,” Maria said, walking to him. For the first time, and for the briefest of instants, Dave did feel intimidated by that woman and the strength of her stare. “Knowing if Michael and I are going to live happily ever after or burn this place down is irrelevant to you now. What are you going to do? Kick us out if you don’t like what you hear?”

Maria stood no more than three feet in front of him, arms crossed, expression defiant.

“I’m going to buy you tickets to Paris for your second honeymoon if you live happily ever after, and re-build this place with non-flammable materials if you burnt it down.” He handed her the Coke, both their expressions serious as she took it. “I just like to be prepared.”

“How boy-scout of you,” she said. “What are we, seriously? An investment?”

“An opportunity,” he answered without a second thought. And boy, was that an understatement, Dave reflected as his plans laid before his mind’s eyes. A one chance opportunity. “They are so unique that there are practically endless possibilities to the applications, the knowledge that can be gained,” Dave said, returning to his alibi. So what if they thought he was greedy? He didn’t care as long as they stayed there. Right where he would know exactly where they were, and not wandering around with the FBI -or who knew what else- breathing down their necks.

“Charming,” Maria said, walking to stand beside him, now the two of them facing the numbers on the wall in front. A short pause, then, “You would really send us to Paris?”

The hopeful sub-tone was not lost to Dave’s ears. His mind raced through all the variables and loose ends he would need to tie up in order for that to happen… not to mention the fact that he thought Paris was over-rated as the city of love… but then again, he had never liked French to begin with, and by extension any French stuff. Still, even if he managed to sort out all the obstacles in between, there was still one single thing that even Maria would have to agree was a very decisive factor: Michael.

“If you convince Michael to go…” Dave trailed off, not looking directly at Maria, but by the corner of his eye he saw her slightly pouting, obviously imagining herself dragging a very reluctant Michael through the Champs Ellysée, “I could arrange it.”

He sipped his Coke while Maria regarded him intently. Had she been one of the “Pod Squad”, then he would have actually worried she was reading his mind or something. Silence stretched for a few more seconds, making Dave wonder what Maria could be possibly thinking.

“Are you a good guy?”

The words hung in the air as they took him by surprise. Why were people so stubborn to try and see things in black and white, or good and evil? It was one of those things that he really didn’t understand, just like Jake’s constant desire for a different life.

“I’m the guy who saw an opportunity and took it,” he stated, this time turning to look at Maria, “but only time will tell us if it was the right choice or not.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Maria pointed out, her Coke still unopened in her right hand, her eyes intent on his face.

Dave thought about it for a couple of seconds. “There is no real answer,” he said as he slightly shrugged, “it’s all a matter of perspective.” Maria narrowed her eyes at him, clearly about to argue. “Think about it,” he said before she had a chance, “I’m the good guy who kept the FBI at bay, while I’m the bad guy who ‘kidnapped’ you. Whichever has more weight to you will define if I’m the good or the bad guy.”

“You do realize that doesn’t sound like you are the ‘good’ guy at all, right?” Maria asked, one eyebrow arched, opening her Coke. Dave stared at her for the longest of times, slightly frowning. “What?” Maria said after the silence had stretched too long for her comfort.

“That’s exactly what Ray said when we made his deal,” Dave said, figuring what were the odds that two strangers, coming from totally dissimilar backgrounds, with such different things to lose, would tell him exactly the same thing. Ray had said it without really caring if he was a good guy or not, though. My, oh my, have you changed, my friend, Dave mused to himself. The Ray of today would certainly care on what side of the good/evil line Dave would fall.

“I’ve heard you wanted to learn some defensive techniques,” Dave said, turning the subject away from his good or evil intentions. He was fairly sure he was on a more solid ground now with Maria, which had been exactly what he had aimed for the minute he had stepped in his office; and exactly why he had let go the fact that she had been rummaging through his stuff.

“Yeah, you’ve got a problem with that?”

Sore point? Dave wondered at the defensiveness of Maria’s voice. “Actually, I was just going to say that Ray is really good at that, defensive techniques, I mean. That’s why I hired him in the first place.”

Maria regarded him, narrowing her eyes yet again, a gesture he was very familiar with by now. “So, he kicked your butt?” Never one to sugar coat things, something else he was very familiar with too. He wondered how much of that was entirely hers, and how much had rubbed off from Michael.

“On a regular basis for about three months,” Dave said truthfully, smiling at the memory. The one thing he needed the most besides the kids trusting Jake, was the kids trusting Ray. So Jake had to deal with the half aliens, while Ray had to deal with the whole humans, and he really couldn’t think of a better choice.

“Then he’s my new favorite person,” Maria sarcastically said, taking him out of his thoughts. His smile slightly changed to a smirk.

“Oh, you wait till it’s you on the floor for the next three months and then you’ll tell me if he’s still your favorite person,” Dave said, half joking, half serious. In all honesty he was glad that Maria had taken that approach, and that she would probably drag Liz and Kyle into it. It made him feel sort of relieved that they were taking their own safety more seriously than before. They had time here… if nothing else, he had bought them that.

Maria turned to look at the numbers after she had given him the standard glare for his last sentence. She suddenly frowned, and for one fleeting second Dave truly thought Maria had seen the code behind those numbers –as his mind always did when he was looking at them- but then she turned to look at him, a question on her lips.

“Samantha said on Sunday that people in here didn’t really get paid, but that they had bank accounts. So I want to know how much are we talking about here. You cannot expect us to leave this place penniless, do you?”

Not a code breaker, but certainly a business woman. They would banter for the next half hour about how much their bank accounts should increase every month. From that point on Dave always remembered that skill of hers, and as the years went by, and Maria did become really skillful at making deals, Dave would laugh inwardly at the memory of this day, when he had really met in his office one hurricane with green eyes, sharp tongue, loyal friendship, and the ability to tame one Michael Guerin.


* * *
Last edited by Misha on Thu Dec 06, 2007 9:33 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Re: The Offer (CC ALL, YTEEN) Ch. 32.1 - pg 9 - 12 / 4

Post by Misha »

Okay! Thanks a billion to Michelle in Yonkers for finishing betaing this part. And as usual, to Kathy W and thetvgeneral for betaing every time :D

I'm sorry for having taking so much time, but between the holidays, wisdom teeth, annual tax declaration -yes, we do that in Jan. here- and the brief panic a week ago because one of my fav authors said she was quitting on her story, I'm finally here! The first part of ch. 33 has already been written as well :D

carter 13, welcome to the story! I'm always curious as to know why you started reading, or if you have any fav part... I would love to know!

Timelord31, you did NOT read the entire thing again! It's more than 375 pages by now! ::thudd:: I only re-read when I need to check exact facts... so, does it have glaring continuity holes or something? Thanks for the constant bumping :)

nibbles2, glad to see you around!



XXXII
About Before

cont.

As Dave was navigating through the complicated winds of Hurricane DeLuca, Jake too was dealing with his own storm. Many things were competing for Jake's attention as he gave Max the bottle of water. Questions swarmed in his mind like bees around a hive. How did their bond work? What had happened to Max to fall asleep like that? What on Earth had that energy… shield-thing been? What had startled him so deeply that he had exploded the entire screen?

What did Max think was so important that he needed the screen off?

Jake hadn't missed Max’s question to Liz as to what she was doing there, or that startled look, or the sudden realization just a second before Max had turned and exploded the screen. Realization of what, though, was one more of those bees swarming his mind. The thing Jake knew, without a doubt, was that Max was wired up really bad, and that Jake needed to make sure he would calm down. Something had scared Max far more than anything Jake had seen so far, and he had the distinct notion that it had a lot to do with Liz being there.

Theories spun through his mind, finally settling on the most possible one: There was something Max didn't want Liz to see. But what? Or was Jake even right? As usual with these kids, he was left wondering a million things with no real answers. Still, the one thing he had deduced from the screen exploding was that Max needed to be out of that room, and so Jake had complied. Yet Jake couldn't risk letting Max go in that state of mind. He needed the kid to know he wasn't angry with him, or even scared. Though quite frankly, Jake was a little afraid. For the first time, he was really uncertain of how Max would react now that Liz was in the room.

Incredible how having Liz around changed things so much.

Pushing those thoughts aside, the one thing that would regain some trust here was if Jake gave them something they needed most: Information. But that was tricky at best, being that he himself only had half-truths and a million conjectures of his own. Not to mention a past to evade, fears to conceal and doubts better left in the dark of his room.

As he sat down, he took a moment to collect his thoughts. Max and Liz had looked ready to bolt two seconds before, but were now sitting, expectantly, eager, watching him intently. Jake himself felt as if he were on a caffeine override, his body always getting jumpy after a good cup of coffee. He diverted his eyes to the table in the middle of the three couches that made his small living room. Seven months was a long time to go through, especially when his mind had retained a very large quantity of details that would be useless right at this moment.

Arranging his priorities, he decided that the last thing he wanted was for Dave to come out in a bad light. It would do nothing to appease the kids' fears, and for all Jake had gathered, nothing was being done against them. Besides, for all their 32 years of friendship, Jake just could not doubt Dave. If Dave had wanted to do something questionable, he would have never asked Jake to come on board to begin with.

Expectant eyes met his own again, a little bit fearful, a little bit on edge, but oh so eager for the truth. The pure and simple truth is rarely pure and never simple, he thought to himself. He cleared his throat, finally deciding that the best point to begin a story was, in fact, the beginning.

"Seven months ago Dave called me while I was doing a research project on perception in England. He wanted me to help him on a project of his own. He was tracking down three teenage kids and their friends. Three kids with highly developed psychic abilities that had attracted the US government's interest."

"He didn't tell you we were half-aliens?" Max asked, cautious, his voice low. He’s so ready to snap, Jake thought, knowing he couldn't risk putting these kids under more pressure. As it was now, he had a shattered 2-inch glass door and a blasted screen, and both had hardly been planned by Max. If Jake wasn’t careful about how he handled the next minutes, then… He honestly had no idea. He had a very vivid vision of a Michael as stressed out as Max, and suddenly, Jake got a glimpse of their energy destroying half the compound.

What are we playing with, Dave?

He shook the thought off. If what it took for them to calm down was the truth, then he was willing to compromise. At least the truth as he best understood it, anyway.

"Over the phone?" Jake answered Max's question, "No. He told me the layout. You were running for your lives, you were still pretty green about your own limits. There were things he didn’t know for sure, but he wanted another pair of eyes to take a look at what he had so far. It was very clear that you needed help. I was on a plane to the States two hours later."

How far those memories seemed now to Jake. Dave had never really said that they "needed help", that was what Jake had concluded. And somewhere in that flight over the ocean he had told himself that these "gifted" kids wanted to explore their powers as well. Why wouldn’t they? It had been Jake's mistake, no one else's, really, yet he still felt cheated by Dave on that account.

"We met at the airport, which was actually rare. Dave was so eager to tell me the details he couldn't wait to see me. He's always been so excited about things, always... But this time, it was more... urgent than I had ever seen before."

Max and Liz exchanged a somewhat anxious look. Had they been aware, truly, really aware of how important they were for Dave? And was this tidbit of information a good thing for them to know? Jake paused for a second so he could regroup his thoughts. He reminded himself that he had to be careful about how he was delivering this "truth".

"He had stumbled upon you by chance," he continued. "He had gotten intrigued when two completely unrelated events had crashed into one strange happening at the Phoenix Hospital Pediatrics ward: A bullet hole on a waitress’ dress, and a deep space microwave signal originating in Roswell, New Mexico. Two years had passed by the time he was telling me this in the car. Aliens..." Jake trailed off, with a small smile, remembering the time, "aliens who looked like humans; teenagers lost in the threads of the government's Special Unit, and strange happenings he couldn't quite put together." Jake regarded them again. He didn't need to elaborate since Dave had already told them how he had discovered them in the first place. "He wasn't sure if he should intervene."

His voice sounded rather old, Jake thought for a second, as both Max and Liz frowned.

"Why? What was he afraid of?" Liz asked, making Jake frown in turn. It was so blatantly obvious for him.

"Risks," he said, rather sharply. Oh, how many risks Dave had been taking from the moment he had stepped in front of one of the US government "projects", to put it mildly. It was as if the mere word, “Risk”, actually opened a closed door in Jake’s mind: Risks, because they are still looking for us. My God, it's been more than 20 years and they are still after us. We know too much, and Dave has just kept searching and searching for more information, almost taunting them, daring them to catch him. Except that they think he's dead, and I just disappeared, and if he plays this wrong, if things backfire, then they will know the truth, and will track us down...

"Risks?" Max asked, confused, effectively pulling Jake out of his reverie, though not quite closing that door as tightly as it had been. Of course, they weren't aware of all the complicated mess his first 18 years of life had been. Hardly anyone was aware of that.

"For you, for him..." for me, Jake silently added before explaining, "Too many things had to be moved in place. From infiltrating the Special Unit, to tracking you down without a third party knowing it. He had already started it, but he was still uncertain."

"Uncertain," Max said, slightly narrowing his eyes. "But he already knew most of what he knows now, that we were fleeing for our lives. That we were no threat."

"Don't be so sure," Jake said, smiling a little. It was rather comical to see how people thought that Dave knew every single thing there was to know. Dave had an uncanny talent for making people draw their own conclusions, usually for his own benefit. But then again, it wasn't so comical when Jake himself was the one to fall for Dave's talents...

"Dave was still getting information from other sources. He didn't know how many people were following your trail. Just for starters, there was your boss who had known there was something to be found in the radio spectrum; the owners of Liz's dress, who had remained anonymous at the time. The Special Unit that had suddenly branched into the Army... You might not have been a threat per se, but you sure were dragging a lot of those on your tail."

"Brody never had... he just found some artifact that turned out to be some sort of... communicator..." Max said, as if in defense of his former boss. Though he had gotten rather tense at this. What did Max really know about Mr. Davis then?

It would be years before Jake would know that Brody’s mystery artifact had been a very effective way to turn off Max’s powers.

"Well, Dave researched Brody Davis extensively, that's for sure. When it became apparent he wasn't one of you, just a very avid researcher on alien things, Dave got puzzled. He was trying to understand why you had healed his daughter and the other children too. Was your relationship that close? Was he blackmailing you? What did he know for sure? Dave never really understood why, and for a while he was really fixed on that single event. I gotta tell you, it does puzzle me as well.”

For all Max had talked about why he didn’t want to heal again, he had never really told Jake why he had healed those kids in the first place. And that was the most interesting part about these three hybrids: Their motivations. Silence met his subtle request. Maybe some other time, Jake sighed inwardly.

“But Mr. Davis was the least of Dave’s worries,” Jake continued once the silence passed the comfortable mark. If he hadn't had their attention before, he surely did now.

“Meta-Chem went down in the flames, a research company sister to many other research companies of which their owners just… vanished. And suddenly, there was this research on alien genetics being sold to the highest bidder.”

The temperature must have dropped some 4 degrees, Jake would have sworn, from the way goosebumps appeared on both Max’s and Liz’s arms.

"What research?" Liz asked, just as quietly as Max had talked before, as if they thought speaking louder would scare Jake away along with the information they were gaining.

“It took him some time to trace it back,” Jake sincerely said. One thing he had to make sure was that Max and Liz understood that things weren’t easy -not even for Dave- out in the real world. Dave couldn’t snap his fingers or disregard a thousand little threats around him just because he wanted to know something. Things had to be done carefully, and most of the time, slowly, for it to work out with no one being the wiser. “He traced it back to Meta-Chem and its researchers. The information came from what they had learned from months of studying Michael while he was at work.”

Max and Liz exchanged another significant look. Significant, sure, but Jake was damned if he could understand what was being said between those two. They had already known Meta-Chem was onto them, that part of the story was clear to Jake. Michael’s friend had been killed in order for Michael to heal him, and later Max had been threatened to heal Clayton Wheeler or face certain death.

“Have you ever wondered,” Jake said, taking a slight detour from his original path, “what Meta-Chem would have done if you hadn’t…” died? “collapsed?” Jake chose at the last second. Max looked at him with that expression of slow realization, his eyes opening a bit too round, and his lips parting just slightly.

“They would have taken Max, wouldn’t they?” Liz asked, her expression mirroring her husband’s.

“Most likely. They already knew so much about you…” Jake trailed off, now his thoughts returning to Dave… and himself, making his internal dialogue go silently in his head. People like us, Max, we don’t get to have an uneventful life… there’s always someone who knows too much, and is powerful enough to take us away. Sometimes I think we can’t hide forever, but that certainly doesn’t stop us from trying.

“You already know so much about us too,” Max said, regaining his precious control, his voice low. It wasn’t an accusation, more like a statement that led to the question of what are you going to do with it now?

Jake smiled faintly. “That’s in large part thanks to their research. Dave bought it as soon as he knew it was on the market, but his uneasiness grew. How many people had clues that would lead to you and by extension, to him? He hadn’t known they had been the owners of Liz’s dress to begin with, that was a surprise reserved for this week.”

One of many surprises, indeed.

“They’re a nightmare,” Ray had said in their meeting yesterday to discuss the kids’ events the past two days. “They started with the local Sheriff and ended with the freaking Army on their heels. They’ve gone from human hunters, to alien hunters, to alien doubles, to traitors, to pointless trips and good Lord, it’s as if they had a death wish or something…”

To say that the kids’ actions over the past four years had given Ray a migraine would be an understatement. Ray was an expert on disappearing and evading pursuers, so for him to finally know all those little things that hadn’t made sense, to know all the details that until this week had been in shadows, had been a real revelation. Dave hadn’t been too happy either. They have been careless, was all he had said as he had continued with his puzzle, half of it done by now.

They are just kids, Jake thought not for the first time since he had seen them arrive a week and a half ago, oblivious as to how their lives were about to change.

He stood up, starting to pace, the only way he was going to burn off all the excess energy he had in his body right now. He had always paced to clear his thoughts, and to give his body something to do while his mind was occupied with other matters. Sighing out loud, he was aware that he was taking way too long to get where the kids wanted him to get.

“By this point, a month had already passed since you had escaped your graduation ceremony. Ray could barely keep tabs on you, and Dave was still tying loose ends. And one of those was how to get you to agree."

A memory flashed into Jake’s mind, making him stand still for a few seconds.

“So, the serum stops their powers… just like that?” Dave had asked him as they both had been going through the Special Unit’s Head Medical Technician’s notes.

“It’s hard to say…” Jake had answered as he reviewed the file for the fourth time. “They literally stumbled upon it in ‘47 when they were trying to control the survivor. But around that time doctors where starting to understand the basics of neurotransmitters, so they targeted what they knew. The serum seemed to attack several chemicals in some degree. A neurotransmitter called serotonin, especially, which we now believe is a highly effective regulator of anger, aggression, body temperature, and sleep, for example. Being that their emotions trigger outbursts of energy, it might be a way of shutting those paths down.”

Dave had nodded his understanding, his eyes reading some paper in front of him. Where Dave was so gifted on his codes, Jake was with biology, but hardly did they ever discuss their mutual fields, mainly because they were hardly working on the same project.

“The Special Unit actually understood that what they needed to target were actually neuromodulators,” Jake had continued, and then he had backtracked a bit as Dave had turned to look at him, a bit puzzled. “They can be considered neurotransmitters by some, which is exactly what this serotonin is. The thing that I cannot understand is why the serum also attacks acetylcholine… It’s supposed to disrupt the somatic nervous system, you know, voluntary control of body movement…”

“I know what that is,” Dave had smiled as he had returned his eyes to the paper in front of him. Sometimes, they both forgot that, despite the fact they were talking about very different things, it didn’t mean the other didn’t have a pretty thorough understanding of each other’s fields.

“The fact is,” Jake had said, finally getting to the point of his troubled thoughts, “it doesn’t suppress their body movements or the reception of external stimuli… not hearing, not touch and certainly not sight. I don’t know what that is attacking. It shouldn’t even be part of the serum.”

Dave had stopped reading and looked at him, frowning. Then his eyes had fallen to a low point behind Jake’s right, clearly thinking something. “But it does disrupt their touch on their… psychic abilities. They can no longer move objects with their abilities… you know, they cannot move with their minds.”

Give Dave a bunch of facts, a beginning and ending, and he would put cause and effect together in 30 seconds or less. If only biology were that easy. “I’ve thought about that… but I’ve barely begun trying to decipher these things properly. The serum works, okay, but we are not really sure why, or how. They seem to work with the same chemical blocks we have, but in ways we can’t even imagine.”

Back in the here and now, Jake resumed his pacing. He was certainly learning a lot about how those chemical blocks were manifesting themselves in the form of shattered glasses, sudden green shields, and a destroyed screen. If only he had known what he was truly getting himself into… Oh, who was he kidding? He would have jumped aboard just as fast, but with other expectations.

"He did a lot of thinking before coming to me," Jake finally said to them, still lost in thought, “he played a lot of scenarios in his head, trying to figure how best to approach you. By the time we met, he still wasn’t sure.”

“So you helped him,” Max’s voice broke into Jake’s thoughts loud and clear, even if Max himself was –as usual- talking very low. Jake met his eyes. There wasn’t reproach in Max’s eyes, but a certain veil of mistrust was now present in his stance. Jake knew –or at least hoped- that Max wanted to trust him, but didn’t know how, and these… revelations weren’t exactly working in Jake’s favor.

“Yes,” Jake answered truthfully, going ahead with the whole story. “It took us several days, but Ray, Dave, and I were able to meet all Dave’s parameters. It started with one simple fact, as all his deals do: How could he prove his deal was solid?”

“He needed to build trust,” Liz said, frowning. “How did that end with those rooms?”

How indeed. It was a rather long story and Jake took a second to sort out the reasons behind their actions. He asked himself for a second if he was going to come to a point where he would have to admit that he honestly didn’t know what Dave had been thinking... and he didn’t like it when he answered himself with you can bet on it.

“We started with the facts,” Jake began again, chronologically arranging the events that had ultimately led them to the rooms. “You had been running for the past six months, somehow avoiding detection. Besides the former Sheriff, you had had no trustworthy adults around to help you. The FBI first, and the Army later, were after you with the firm intention of either wiping you out or locking you in a dark room without ever intending to believe your side of the story. Your families were left behind, barely aware of why you had to run away, and completely unable to help you at all. For all intents and purposes, you were alone in this world, and had no reason to believe anyone would willingly lend you a hand.”

There was a subtle but certainly wounded look in the kids’ eyes, and Jake knew he had stirred a lot of painful memories there. Truth was often so cold, he reflected.

“Trust,” Jake continued, “was not the first thing on our list. You had had way too many reasons not to trust even your shadow, that we couldn’t start there. It was part of the list, of course, but our first major concern was to strip away the illusion that it was safe, that you could defend yourselves. That no matter how many powers you had, or how prepared you thought you were, you were still… vulnerable.” Telling them this, so calm and rather so emotionless, was also making Jake re-think all his own motives, his own expectations… his own future in this scheme.

“We didn’t have a chance,” Max said after a few seconds had gone by, his eyes lost in some point in front of him, his bottle of water forgotten in his hand. “You didn’t even let us try to defend ourselves.” Max’s eyes met Jake’s, understanding filling them. “You didn’t want us thinking if we had done something different… if we had just seen it coming… We just didn’t know what was happening until it was too late… way beyond too late.”

“Unaware. And all together.” Those had been exactly Dave’s words, his parameters. All their plans had revolved around those not so simple things, and the result was sitting right in front of Jake. It had worked, but for how long? “You went to sleep one day, and the next you woke up in prison. No warnings, no chance… Nothing.”

Silence descended again as Jake got slightly stuck for a second, finally taking a seat on the coach’s arm. How best to continue? Ray had already told them how the plan to capture them had gone, so there was no real point to going over it again. “You were put to sleep and brought here on early Wednesday morning, by helicopter. It was my duty to make sure you were okay. There’s where the blood tests enter the picture,” Jake emphasized as he looked directly at Liz. Max frowned, knowing he had missed something between the two of them, and turned to look at Liz, silently asking what this was about. She was caught between her desire to tell him, and her need to listen to Jake. She turned to look at Jake, unsure of what to do.

“You had been captured,” Jake proceeded, not wanting to get into another argument with Liz about what had really happened. He was getting there, anyway. “So, as I said, the next thing for us to do was to make certain you were all right. We ensured all your vitals were stable Standard measurements were taken, including EKG's and EEG's. We kept a close eye on you for the next three days, and of course, we did the blood tests too.” Jake acknowledged Liz. “We needed to know how your health was doing; a frame of reference on where you stood.”

“That took you three days?” Liz said, clearly unconvinced still about Jake’s claims. Her voice had returned to the same tone she had been using before Max had woken up. Patience, Jake. They’re just scared kids.

“We were supposed to take a week,” Jake corrected after a few seconds had passed. “You see, the more time you lost, the more intimidating it became. And Dave wanted to scare you as much as he could because that fear was real. Just like everyone else out there hunting you is real… But things changed once you were here…”

Jake trailed off. He wanted to tell them the honest truth as things had happened, but there was really nothing to gain in telling Max that his heart hadn’t seemed to like being sedated for so long. It just couldn’t be easy to deal with that kind of information after learning less than thirty minutes before that his heart had once literally stopped beating for almost half a minute.

Jake also wondered for a second about those other things that had happened in that white room that they hadn’t discussed. One of the many Special Unit medical pages flashed into Jake’s mind: They had drugged Max long enough to strip him and clothe him in the hospital scrubs, not so different from what Jake had done. In fact, a variant of the sedative gas that had been used on Max was the one that had been used in the motel kidnapping. Jake knew it was relatively safe for the hybrids’ physiology, and had used enough to knock them out for a few minutes so the paramedics could do their work in peace.

It wasn’t guilt that invaded Jake’s heart. It was regret. Regret that they hadn’t been able to come up with another scenario that would ensure the kids would understand the peril they were in. It shouldn’t matter now.

Yet somehow, it did.

Liz’s hand reached for Max’s, maybe sensing that what Jake had been talking about, that what had changed involved her husband. Static electricity flew once again between their hands, the crisping sound audible in the silence of the room, but this time they both held onto each other.

“What happened?” Max asked, staring directly into Jake’s calm eyes.

“I didn’t want to keep you sedated for so long, it wasn’t safe.” Technically, that was the honest truth, it just so happened to lack the explanation behind it. Maybe he and Dave were more alike than either of them knew. “So Dave had no choice but to let the sedative wear off,” Jake continued, neither Max or Liz thinking of asking any further. “You woke up an hour later, barely missing me giving you the serum that interferes with your abilities…”

All this seemed like so long ago, when in fact it had only been a week since all these events had happened. Time always had a funny way of being perceived, Jake knew, but as he regarded these kids in front of him, so young, so vulnerable and inexperienced, he wondered how they regarded the situation as a whole. Months had passed since they had left home, and days since they had accepted Dave’s conditions, yet Jake had the distinct impression that they would feel as if a whole lifetime had already passed. Drastic changes usually felt that way.

“You helped him with the rooms, too?” Max asked, frowning a little, as if something in this puzzle didn’t make sense.

"No, not really. He gave me every single medical file he could find, and I knew Ray had been in Roswell gathering data for close to two years by then. Dave spied on you first because all he knew was that signals from space were coming to the Earth, and a possible alien deserter was healing kids in Phoenix. He needed to know if you were friends or foes. Were you a real alien invasion, a threat? He had enough information by the time he started planning the rooms that only the smallest details were left to be sorted out. He wanted you to know that there’s nothing in your lives that cannot be found. That you cannot hide."

“But if he knew so much about us, then he wouldn’t… the interviews wouldn’t make sense,” Liz said, frowning, probably thinking about the purpose of the personal meetings.

Jake chuckled. “Of course he doesn’t know everything. Certainly not what really matters. He knows what others think of you, but it’s not quite the same,” Jake said with a slight smile. “That’s why he wants to talk to you, privately. To know if his information is accurate or not, and what else he has missed. He wanted to meet you alone that first night. He was very adamant about that, despite Ray’s protests about his safety. He trusted that he knew you enough to know his first meeting would go… well, if not smoothly, at least not violently.”

Jake’s eyes strayed to Max’s hands, the bottle still unopened, the water bubbling inside. How could Max boil the water without melting the plastic?

“I was nervous,” Jake absently said, his eyes still on Max’s hand, though the teen had yet to realize why. “It was close to midnight, and I was sitting at my desk, going through all your numbers and charts from the tests we’ve done, and all that time I was thinking, “What if Dave is not good enough? What if these kids choose the road because we went too far?”

Jake stood up from his place on the couch’s arm and went back to the cupboard, thinking that he needed a drink, -a highly alcoholic one, if he had a said on it, something he would indulge himself in once he was alone in that room. “Do you want anything to drink?” he said, addressing Liz, who shook her head no. “Something to eat, maybe?” This time the negative came from both of them. He took a Coke thinking he could use the caffeine to calm his nerves. He knew there was something wrong with that thought, but couldn’t quite figure out what. It would be more than an hour before he realized that coffee did anything but calm his nerves. Boiling water. And the plastic is intact…

He sighed, shaking his head in an effort to clear his mind.

“Once you awoke there, you knew everything there was to know,” Jake continued as he walked back to the couch’s arm. “Everything had been taken away. Your safety, your friends, your sense of control. Gone. You spent hours there, worrying, wondering… pondering what to do. And then you met him, and he set you free. When you returned to talk to Dave the next day, you knew everything there was to know. He didn’t lie about anything he had done.”

He let his words sink in for a few seconds. No, it wasn’t fair. No, they had had no right. But fairness and rights were just as much illusion as safety and control were, and Jake had been cynical enough since he was 10 to know that. He had no illusions about mankind, something he envied Dave, and that’s why he never did find questionable what he had helped to do to these kids. They had never been in danger, and they were safe now.

“Now you think he has some secret agenda, and he might have for all you know, but you’re certain you’re safe here, under clear conditions. You expected the worst to happen, and when it didn’t, his offer became acceptable. He backed up his knowledge of you with the rooms, and proved his intentions by letting you go.”

“As if it were just business,” Liz concluded. She was still angry, Jake knew, at how Dave had executed his plan of quite literally stripping away their world. She had every right to be, but had it really been beyond her breaking point, then they wouldn’t be having this conversation now.

“Yes,” Jake answered. Part of the problem with this whole trust issue, was that they didn’t know Dave. His best friend was so used to not being known, he probably hadn’t taken the time through those interviews to let them see him. Jake didn’t know if it was going to do them any good, but he still wanted these kids to know who they were dealing with and why Dave would honor their deal.

“He’s not just some random, eccentric guy who had too much time on his hands and bumped into you,” Jake smiled as both Max’s and Liz’s curiosity spiked. “He deals with a lot of people, moves an incredible amount of information through all the world. If he doesn’t keep his word, if he’s careless in the slightest way, it would impact hundreds, if not thousands of lives that directly and indirectly are related to what he knows and who he tells. He’s a pirate of information, but he understands the weight he can add or take away to all kinds of matters. He’s not a child playing with new toys. He looks way further than most people do, beyond what is obvious, and finds ways, hidden meanings, that are just what he needs to keep things in balance on a global scale.”

“We’re just… one more thing for him, then?” Max asked, not quite convinced of what he had just heard.

“No,” Jake firmly said. “No, don’t diminish yourselves. You are so unique and have so much to offer. So much to live for if you just have the opportunity to explore your limits. Because despite the shattering and the burning, and you scaring the hell out of me, you have extraordinary gifts that shouldn’t be wasted living in fear. Even if you decide to leave this instant, or if in the future we end up on bad terms, I can tell you, right now, that Dave would do this whole circus all over again, because I would do it too.”

“Why?” Max whispered, somehow that veil of mistrust slightly fading.

And without hesitation, Jake truthfully answered, “Because it would mean you at least had the chance.”


* * *

TBC...

Author's Note: The line "The pure and simple truth is rarely pure and never simple" is by Oscar Wilde.
Last edited by Misha on Wed Jan 30, 2008 10:43 pm, edited 4 times in total.
"There's addiction, and there's Roswell!"
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Misha
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Re: The Offer (CC ALL, YTEEN) Ch. 32.2 - pg 12 - 1 / 18

Post by Misha »

Hey guys!! It's posting time again!

Though, it's a rather short part, at least the next is already half through. I'll answer all the AWESOME feedback tomorrow, but THANK YOU ALL for your reviews!



XXXIII
Heartbeat



Despite her best intentions to the contrary, Maria’s stomach growled loud enough to make Dave pause and regard her, then glimpse at his watch, and then back at her, the most obvious fact that she was close to being famished making her cheeks blush.

She hated blushing.

Blushing meant that someone else could be privy to the fact that she was embarrassed or that she had been busted doing –or thinking- something she should be ashamed of. Since the moment she had entered that room she had vowed she was not going to fall for this man’s antics, and when two hours ago he had offered her something to eat while they were discussing how much was too much in their bank accounts, she had taken it as a way of distracting her from what was important. So she had rather curtly declined his offer.

He didn’t offer again.

Maybe she should have asked. She had certainly not been shy about asking when they were bargaining about their bank accounts, nor had she been doubtful about getting some more answers as Dave had started casually flipping pieces while they were nearing a settlement, questions from both of them becoming more personal.

He hadn’t been truthful when he had said he lacked passion. Maybe for music, okay, but not when it became about making plans and commitments. He had pointed out that bank accounts were traceable, she had pointed out that it only mattered if they were going to leave in a hurry. What better deal for him then, she had reasoned, than the fact that he would hold their future welfare, securing that way that they would at least leave on good terms?

He had casually stated that diamonds were a good sell in the market. She had said not even Max could make the numbers they would as fast as if they stayed. A year was profitable, five years were just too many $$ on her bank account to back away from Dave’s deal without his knowledge.

Dave had regarded her for a long minute. Maria was just oh so aware that Dave had never really cared about if they settled on 7 figures or 8. Money was not a problem for this man, but it was also not something that mattered to him. She knew that because of the lack of wealth around. Sure, the desk alone could very well cost more than her entire house back in Roswell, but nothing about this room screamed I have money. It rather quietly whispered this is business or I am thinking. Nothing about Dave ever screamed anything… it was all rather subtle. This room was some sort of Fortress of Solitude, where the man would sit and contemplate his world, but not where he lived and moved around on a daily basis. On a second thought, maybe it was more like the Batcave.

She had wondered if Dave actually had a house. An apartment. A small castle somewhere that he would call home. That he traveled a lot was obvious enough, but did he settle somewhere, a villa in Tuscany or a penthouse in New York? She had tried to imagine what that place would look like as Dave had conceded that a bank account could be some sort of trust pact. It would represent that they both were willing to compromise and would ensure that the end of the deal would be on “good terms”, as she had said.

That had been an hour ago, and now that her stomach had completely betrayed her, she had expected him to end the “interview” and let her go. She crossed her arms in a somewhat defiant gesture. Hesitation crossed his eyes. She noticed because it was such a rare and unexpected look that it was impossible to miss. They were standing on opposite sides of the desk, with the enigmatic numbers at his back and the cupboard at hers. She preferred the freedom of walking around and he preferred the freedom of putting his puzzle together.

He reached a conclusion, his eyes moving from her to the door, and then back to her.

“I guess now is as good time as any to end our meeting,” Dave finally said, not entirely covering up his hesitation better now than a second before.

She looked him in the eye. “I gather we have a deal with the bank?” she questioned him before making any move to the door. She hadn’t spent the better part of an hour arguing about numbers and value for nothing. Dave nodded once. If that wasn’t a trust pact, she didn’t know what it was.

Oh wait. She actually did: They’d accepted Dave's offer less than a week ago.

For that matter, there had been more arguments about trust issues in the past hour than in the first four, and looking back, Maria wasn't sure if she had covered all she wanted to argue with this man.

"You know, in the really grand scheme of things, you have nothing to lose," Maria had pointed out once the bank issue had been resolved, around the time when her stomach had quietly reminded her that she hadn't had breakfast and was miserably missing lunch too. What he would lose or not had been a point they had discussed before, but she had still been unconvinced by Dave's evasive answers.

"You think so?" Dave had said, seemingly more interested in his puzzle than in her. "I went through two years of surveillance and seven months of infiltrating a US military organization, plus a thousand other things that shall remain nameless for the sake of brevity, because I had nothing to lose?"

"I think that what you're going to earn outweighs any loss," Maria had said as she had watched him fitting yet one more piece into the puzzle.

"Ah, but that doesn't mean I have 'nothing to lose'. If anything, I'm willing to risk a lot to ensure this deal works." His eyes had met hers, thoughtful. "You're risking an awful lot too," he said at length. It had occurred to Maria that this was the first time he had actually considered their side. Her eyebrows shot to her hairline.

"You mean how we’re graciously avoiding the fact that you spied on us, kidnapped us, drugged us, and have pretty much been a shadowy menace that we tolerate because we have no choice? You know, just to name a few things for the sake of brevity."

This time, the silence had been longer, though his thoughtful expression hadn't changed through Maria's words.

"Well, since we're on the subject," he had calmly said, as if Maria's last words hadn't had any effect on him, "explain something to me: You were 'spied on' by several people, in different degrees, in the last four years. The former Sheriff Valenti, and for a while Kyle; the Counselor-in-disguise Topolsky, and the Special Unit by extension; the Congresswoman-slash-alien Whitaker and all that entails. A shapeshifter, doubles, the army... even the Evans. Not to mention your very own inside traitor, Tess. And though, according to you I'm not better than the FBI, I'm the one who gets the flames just because I actually gave you the chance to persecute me. And the funny thing is, you did your own spying on at least half of those people. The only thing that separates them from you is how resourceful they were."

"Oh, don't you dare change the subject," Maria had said with bare restraint. "Spying aside, you did worse than any of them!"

Hazel calm had met angry green as their eyes had locked. As he had kept silent, Maria had had a nagging voice reminding herself that, in fact, worse things had been done to the Pod Squad both by the FBI and their alien enemies. Even an innocent mistake by the former Sheriff had sent that Hubble nut-case after Max, and if not for Michael, chances were Max would be already dead. A slight tremor had passed through her spine as she had recalled the very vivid images she had told Dave about Max in that sterile white room, and her wondering -and worrying- that one day it would be Michael.

"You played with us like none of them did," she had said, shaking those thoughts off. Besides, just because everybody else was doing it, that doesn’t mean it was okay. And they had spied back to save their own lives, for Pete's sake! Wasn't Dave aware of all those things? “And now you’re asking me to explain to you why you’re getting ‘flamed’? Please, you can’t be that dense.”

“You’re risking an awful lot too because you have an awful lot to gain as well, and I’m not talking just about money.” Dave pointed out, as if he had re-taken his early thought and was finally finishing it out loud. “When you returned seven days ago it was with the intention of compromise. You were right about the fact that you didn’t have to like the deal, or like me, but the fact that you don’t trust me doesn’t mean that I’m wrong. That almost all the people that spied on you had very dark intentions that would invariably end with your friends’ deaths is not something to take lightly, especially when half of them are still out there.” Dave had paused for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, “If you think, just for a second, that I’m going to hurt them, you would leave in a heartbeat.”

Heartbeat? No, probably a lot less than that.

“They would tear this place down if you so much as threaten us,” Maria had said then, pointing out one of those few things that both of them completely agreed on. “So if you think you can get away with spying on us again, or any of all those other things, you’d better think again.”

"It won't happen again," he had simply said, silence and tension building up as Maria had been willing herself to believe this man and having no other guarantee than to trust his word. So she had kept arguing, and he had kept going in circles with his own words. They had kept talking about that for the last half hour along with some other things that had led to dead ends, until her stomach had unceremoniously interrupted them.

Now her stomach was growling again, louder this time if that were possible, Dave’s eyes meeting hers once more, one eyebrow arched as if asking if she really didn’t want to leave and go hunting food. The sharp point of the pencil in her pocket stabbed her for the millionth time, remindeing her she still had one last chance of getting some juicy details.

She smiled. He frowned. She had a slight feeling he found her smiles puzzling. He did tend to frown every time she gave him one of her patented DeLuca grins, she reflected as she finally moved to the door, no good-byes or final last words.

Good.

And then, “Maria,” she slowly turned in place. For a second she thought he was about to say something dreadful. She didn’t know why, really, but it would just be her luck. On the other hand, he could very well be going to tell her Happy Birthday and she was so not wanting to hear that from this man—

“I hope you enjoy your meal.”

It was his turn to give a smile that puzzled her. There was a certain mischief underneath this casual remark, but she didn’t know what to make of it. What was he implying here? Her stomach gave a final growl that made her say with all confidence, “I’m sure I will.”

Turning once more, this time she made it to the door without further interruption. She opened it, went through it, and closed it all without a backward glance. Once out, she closed her eyes and leaned against the closed door with a barely audible sigh. This thing was over, and now she had all the time in the world to figure out what she had seen and what she had learned and—

A soft sound at her left startled her out of her skin, making her heart go a million miles per hour. She frowned once she realized what had caused it: “Michael? What are you doing here?”


* * *
"There's addiction, and there's Roswell!"
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