Title: The Big One
Series: Kismet Unchained (sequel to 'Not Written Yet' and 'Husk Funeral')
Coupling/Genre: Alex/Isabel Courtney/Michael Kyle/Tess Liz/Max Maria/Other (in approximate alphabetical order.)
Rating: ADULT or MATURE
Disclaimer: I didn't create 'Roswell', I didn't make it a TV series, I didn't originate these characters or plots -- I'm just adapting them.
Summary: The gang tries to relax and enjoy a formal harvest dance, with the threat of alien retaliation still impending.
Author's note: Third in the Kismet Unchained series, after Not Written Yet and Husk Funeral. I'm diverging more from the original plotline in this one, because 'wipeout' sucked eggs so badly - there will be at least one big similarity, but I've also thrown in a school dance element because... those are ALWAYS fun.
This is part of my entry in the National Novel Writing Month challenge."Anyone, anyone else?? Alex?"
"Ummm..." Alex took a deep breath. "How about the question of doing versus... versus being. As a question of which you derive your identity from."
"Hmmm." Mister Thomli, the fifty-something english teacher with merry little eyes, smiled slightly as he considered that. "I'm intrigued, Mister Whitman. Can you go on?"
"Umm... I'm not quite sure how to put it," Alex admitted, blushing a little. "But... oh, where was that speech." He started to riffle through the pages of the large paperback in front of him. "Do nothing because it is righteous, do nothing because it is noble, do nothing because men will admire you for it, do only that which you HAVE to do, and what you cannot do in any other way..." He finally found the passage, checked it, and shrugged. "I guess it's not so much about self-identity in that part, so much about action. Deciding whether to take action or not."
"The old man felt he had done one stupid thing, and that one action forced him to act again and again, when all he wanted to do was sit around, do nothing, and maybe grow wise," Billy Travis put in. "I'm not sure I see his point... is doing nothing really any wiser? And if he really wanted to be like a rock, what was stopping him? I mean, once he'd cleaned up his mistake."
"Well, by then he'd found half of that ring, which led him into another adventure," someone else interjected.
"Yeah, but he didn't *have* to take up that challenge, he volunteered," Billy insisted. "And what the heck was he doing sailing the dragon's run anyway?? If he hadn't done that, he would never have even found out what the jewel meant. Ehh, I'm with Alder anyway. If nobody acts, we'd all starve, and all of that bit about 'it's easier to act than not to act' doesn't really solve that problem."
"I have a question," Kyle said from across the room. "Well, the speech that Alex vaguely quoted, 'do nothing because it is noble' and so on. Was that meant as advice for anybody, or only specifically for a king? Because to me, it seems way out there for an ordinary person, but only vaguely overstating the case for a king."
"Why should it be different for a king?" Isabel Evans asked him.
"Well, because a king has greater responsibilities and greater power at his disposal. If ordinary people get into rivalries and make their choices, at some level, based too much on self-interest, there aren't too many people that we can hurt. Look at the history of europe from the fall of rome through the russian revolution. When kings get into rivalries and make their choices based too much on self-interest, thousands of people die."
"Okay, that's an interesting point Valenti," the teacher said, "but we'll have to pick it up at that point tomorrow. Remember that your short answers are due in on Friday, and I know that the school will have harvest dance fever by then, so FINISH IT EARLY. That's all, so get going." The students took him at his word and started to pack up their books and leave.
Alex fell into step beside Isabel as she stepped out into the hallway, giving her a brief smile. "Well, I guess you earned some participation marks there," she commented idly.
"You spoke up too," Alex countered.
"Not like you did." But she shrugged. "Umm... don't you have art class next?"
"Yeah, but I got a little time."
"Oh-kay... is there something you want to tell me?"
Alex hesitated, trying to judge if it looked like Isabel would be going past her locker. "Not... not tell you as such, no."
She gave him a searching look at that evasive answer, then continued on. Soon it was clear that they would indeed be passing through the corridor that had Isabel's school locker in it. As she approached it, her brother Max Evans spotted the two of them as he was walking the other way. "How was discussing the wizards book in lit class?" he asked.
"Alex kicked ass," Isabel said offhandedly. "Oh, and Kyle spoke up too -- we may need to have a sit down with that boy. Sounds like he's been thinking about stuff that maybe he shouldn't be speaking of so openly." Alex was puzzled by that statement for a little while, until it fell into place -- the whole bit about the responsibilities of kings, which hit way too close to home with respect to Max and Isabel's secret lately.
Isabel turned to her locker and worked the dial... Alex took a deep breath by reflex -- and the locker door wouldn't open. "Hey, what the heck??" she muttered, then sighed and started working the combination all over again from the beginning. This time it opened...
And something fell open, something that was changing its shape as it moved... growing, becoming something larger than there would have been room for in the locker. Isabel and Max stared at it in confusion, while Alex tried to stifle a snicker.
It was a balloon.
It was a turkey.
It was a balloon of a cartoon-like turkey, carrying a sign. Alex had spent far too much money getting the balloon custom designed, not to mention finding the tiny little gadget that would inflate it automatically. The turkey bobbed there in front of her locker, held by little strings that kept it right way up and prevented it from falling too far.
"'Isabel: go to the dance with me? --Alex.'" Izzy read off the sign. She turned around to face Alex, who was trying not to grin in exactly the same manner that an idiot would. "Oh, boy... I can't quite decide if this is the stupidest thing I've seen all year... or one of the sweetest."
"I'd settle for the stupidest, as long as I get the right answer," Alex quipped.
A number of other high-school kids had gathered around the three of them at about a twelve-foot perimeter. Wild and wacky public spectacles to invite a girl to the harvest ball were semi-traditional, so that wasn't such a surprise. Alex heard someone mutter pretty clearly, "He's such a geek, I mean come on -- with those ears? Doesn't he know that Isabel's out of his league? Sure, she's kind of a snob and she's been acting really weird, like, all year, but --"
He shook his head and opened his mouth to say something, anything, to drown out that anonymous voice, (even though, knowing him, it would probably end up being the *wrong* thing,) But Isabel beat him to it. "How about two for the price of one -- it was very sweet, really," She was untying the strings so as to take the turkey down and get at her books. "And yes, I should be delighted to be your escort to the ball. Have your people call my people, hee hee, and we'll work out the details." She quickly hugged Alex and kissed him on the cheek, and then went back to business. In only a few seconds, the locker door was closed -- and turkey lurkey's strings wer still in Isabel's hand.
"Ummm... I can show you how to deflate him so that he can go back into the locker," Alex said softly, guessing what the answer would be.
"Not until three o'clock at least, babe. He's my token, and for today he shall stay nowhere but at my side."
"Umm... alright, well I really do need to get to art class now I guess... um, see you guys for lunch?"
"Of course." Isabel blew Alex another playful kiss before he dashed off. Max and Isabel both had econ next period, so they walked together to the stairwell and up to West Roswell High's second level. The turkey continued to attract some attention, but she wasn't the only girl carrying an unusual 'token' from the boy who she'd be going to the ball with. "So, any ideas for how to ask Liz yet??"
"Umm... should I even bother protesting that you have no way of knowing that I want to ask Liz to the dance??" Max asked, without much verve to the question in his voice.
"Not really. Frankly it's kind of beyond me why you really expect me to believe that the two of you aren't back together. I mean, well, I have a notion of why the two of you would be trying to maintain the charade... but I know you a little better than that, brother."
"Well, it's complicated," Max muttered tiredly.
Isabel caught the hint at that point. "Sorry... I guess I'll stop giving you a hard time about it now. I guess I'm just in high spirits today."
"Yeah, I kind of noticed," Max said. "Or at least, since you started to read the sign on that turkey."
SHe giggled softly. "Yeah, I guess maybe this has something to do with it. I know that -- well, I wouldn't be too surprised if Alex never wanted to have anything to do with me, ever again. But what does the man do? He puts a baloon turkey in my locker! There's something about that kind of tactic that makes me think everything's going to be alright."
"I'm happy to hear that," Max told her. And then the two of them had to walk into the classroom with frosty Miss Whitehead glaring at them, so it was the end of talking about high school courtship rituals and the start of yet another lively debate about whether the supply curve concept actually made real-world sense.
----------
"Oh, hey Maria, what's up??"
Maria looked up from the great depression history book she was trying to actually read, instead of just stare at. "Oh, hello Kyle. What's up??"
"Not much." Kyle pulled up a chair from another study carroll and sat down close to her. "Just kind of wondering if the new guy had made his..."
"Kyle!!" Maybe she shouldn't have interrupted him, but having established that there didn't seem to be anything critical that Kyle needed to talk to her right this second about, Maria's first instinct was to not let him pick up too much conversational steam. "I've got a lot of work to do, so maybe you could 'wonder' another time??"
"Oh, sure." Kyle got up and wandered off, examining some of the titles on the nearest bookshelf, but he seemed to gravitate back to her, as if what she'd said hadn't quite made enough of an impression in his brain. "It's just a quick question, whether Nicky had asked you to the dance yet."
Maria pushed the book a few inches away, counted silently to three, and sighed softly. "Actually, yes Kyle, he's asked and I said I'd go with him. He didn't make a big deal out of it, which is okay really, just asked me the night before yesterday while we were having dinner at Mario's."
"Slices??"
"Pasta actually... I had linguine and he was eating those bow-tie shaped things that I can never remember the name of."
"I think they're just called pasta bow-ties."
"Not at Mario's... they have some funky italian pasta name for them and I don't know what it is. So, I answered your quick question, and one extrea, right??"
"I guess so." Kyle wandered off, but Maria hadn't gotten very far into the foreclosure protests before his head popped into view again. "So, what do you think about fancy dance invites, as a general thing?? I mean, suppose there was somebody who I wanted to ask to the dance... would you say that I should probably go with an elaborate and public ritual, or..."
"I don't know, Kyle!!" Maria burst out, and forced herself to not let her voice get too loud. "Generally... they're nice, they can be very sweet especially if the situation isn't embarassing. However, it really depends on the details of the relationship, or pre-relationship, whether they're a wise move or not. I can't tell you any more than that, and I don't really want to get into it now."
"Okay, all right. I'm going now, bye." This time, when he disappeared, Maria didn't even touch her book, she just sat there and counted off seconds. It was eighteen when Kyle reappeared again. "You seem a little short-tempered today Maria... is it because of the Michael/Courtney thing??"
She took a deep breath and decided to try talking to Kyle language that he would understand. "Valenti, I'm going to count to five, and at that point if I see your face, or for that matter any part of you, before this period is over, I will throw this heavy and relatively hard book at you. That is not appropriate library behavior I know, but it would give me a lot of pleasure for several reasons. So, do I make myself clear??"
Kyle blinked in surprise. "Sheesh, if you really wanted me to leave you alone, you could've just said so." Then, rather than tempt fate, he popped off again.
Maria sighed and returned to her book. But she couldn't concentrate on America's dark history, now, after Kyle had mentioned her own personal angst.
Michael, her stubborn ex-boyfriend. (Stubborn *half-alien* ex-boyfriend, for the record.) And Nicky, her new guy, one of Alex's bandmates. Little fragments of the past few weeks' events swirled through her mind, in no particular order. Meeting Nicky unexpectedly on her front walk. Michael telling her that they brought out the worst in each other and should take a break, maybe see other people. Finding out that Michael, too, had started a new thing in his personal life, with the mysterious blonde Courtney.
The reference to Courtney brought an entirely new swirl of completely chaotic thoughts into her mind.
Groaning, Maria bent down to the book once again and determinedly read each word softly. "Many times the neighbors of a foreclosed family would be able to purchase their furniture for as little as one five-hundredth of the fair price, because protesting crowds frightened other would-be bidders from attending the auctions. These items were often simply handed back to their original owners, but symbolic gestures like this did little to help them out of economic misfortune..."
----------
Tess stepped out of the cafeteria canteen area, looked around, and made her way at a casual pace to on of the furthest tables. Neither she nor the boy sitting alone near the wall made any attempt at eye contact as she took her place not-quite-opposite him, but once Tess was settled she said 'Hi Michael' in a clear enough voice.
"Ummm..." After taking a small sip of snapple through a plain white straw with a small corrugated bend in it, he finally looked up. "What's the deal, Tess?"
"Um, the deal with what? Aren't I allowed to sit here without having a deal? I kinda got a deal on the sausage bun, come to think of it."
"Fine, if that's the way you want to play it, go ahead. Sit, eat your sausage bun... though I'd be careful, were I you." He returned his entire attention to the spicy nachos on the beige styrofoam tray in front of him. There was something brownish that had been drizzled on the chips seperately from the melted cheese - leaning forward just slightly Tess caught a hint of caramel, and the combination of sweet and spicy odors made her stomach growl. Grabbing one, or even asking for it, would not be a good idea though. Because of course, she *did* have a minor mission that brought her here, and Tess was determined not to sidetrack herself, especially not having made it through Michael's opening gambit.
"Okay, I admit I'm a little curious." She drew the words out like a cue, playing cautiously with one of the soggy french fries on her plate, since she wasn't about to touch the sausauge bun yet. "Every day for more than a week now, you've been eating alone. Not that that's completely unusual, but it's a bit of a streak. Usually you break it up somewhat, meeting up with Max and Isabel, or... well, or Maria, though I understand why that hasn't happened lately."
"But you're wondering why I'm avoiding Izzy and Max, or they steering clear of me, is that it?" he asked in a soft growl. "As well as Alex and Liz, though I've never been especially chummy with either of them I guess."
"Yeah, that's pretty much it," Tess agreed. "You can guess, I think, why I'm interested."
"And do you have any guesses of your own?" Michael put in. "What could possibly drive a rift between my two best friends and I?"
Tess laughed by reflex. "Well, the obvious answer would be a girl... or maybe a guy, though I don't think that would be your type. And the obvious candidate would be the mysterious woman who's entered all our lives lately and seems to have a particular interest in you... not to mention that good luck kiss you gave her in Arizona."
Michael shook his head in frustration and took a bite of a very crowded-looking burrito. "Good reasoning so far, but I really don't feel like filling in any of the blanks for your amusement."
"Good, because I doubt it'd be that amusing," Tess cracked back, and then let a more serious and sincere expression take place on her head. "How about talking to me like a friend, then? If whatever this is has you avoiding everybody else... then maybe you could use someone. I don't have that much practice as a friend, I know, but I think I've picked up enough to give it a try without training wheels."
Michael blinked in surprise at the way she phrased it, but then he nodded slightly. "Okay, if you want, I'll unload on your pretty blonde head. But not here I think."
"Now? Or later??"
"Ehhhh..." Michael considered that question. "Any interest in actually eating that advanced-food-substitute on your tray?"
Tess considered that in turn. "Yeah, I didn't grab much for breakfast this morning, and as bad as this crap is, it seems to do okay at fighting off low blood sugar. Doubt there's any critters in it that can outfight our superior immune systems either."
Michael laughed. "Wisely spoken." And he took another few nachos and drank more of the Snapple.
"Mind if I snag a few of those?" Tess asked, now that they had an understanding. "I'll trade you several unfried frenches."
"No thanks on the trade, but go ahead." They each finished off lunches pretty quickly, exchanging meaningless small talk about bad teachers and good band. After an alleged meal was done, Michael led the way out school door with a steel bar that you had to push down on hard to get it to unlock, and the two of them walked out onto a deserted football field. "Okay, let's see," he mumbled once their privacy seemed to be an accomplished fact. "On the morning after we got back from Arizona, I went to Courtney's apartment."
"Yeah," she agreed, "you said you were going to. She would change into that bio-engineered husk that you stole from the alien army, and you wanted to make sure everything went okay." Another thought flashed through Tess' mind, of what she'd been doing that morning, how she'd snuck off with Kyle in the middle of the night to their secret 'love nest' at her old house, which was abandoned now, and having hot sex with him again and again. Kyle's father, sheriff Valenti, had taken Tess into his home after she had unexpectedly found herself orphaned, and she didn't think he'd approve of the way things were progressing between the two teenagers living under his roof, but so far his police skills had come nowhere close to the truth.
But Michael was continuing on, oblivious of the connection that Tess had made. "So yeah, she said that everything was fine, and we talked... about the kiss, among other things, about what it's been like for her, coming to Earth so long ago and living basically inside a pretty girl suit. She said that she never expected to... to be attracted to me, have feelings for me, but she was and she did. And so... well, we've been trying out. A few dates so far, nothing really intense."
"Hmm..." Tess tried to figure out what would be the right response to this. "Umm, how did Maria take it?"
"Not too well," Michael admitted. "And in hindsight, pointing out that she was the first one to get involved with someone else is something that I probably shouldn't have done. Live and learn. Anyway, she knows now, and I think Maria told Liz, Liz told Max, Max told Isabel. I pretty much told Max and Isabel too, but -- well, it was clear that they knew before I had a chance to tell them. And, welll..." Michael shrugged, not finding any more words.
Tess shrugged at that. "Well, to me it kinda sucks if they're shutting you out. Is it really any business of their who you choose to date... well, I mean, it's a little of their business if you're friends and they'll have to spend time socially with Courtney. But that doesn't mean that they get a vote."
Michael smiled obliquely at her. "And is it any business of yours who Max chooses to date?"
The reference stung Tess... probably he'd meant it to. "Umm... honestly I'm not too sure about that at the moment. I still haven't let go of the hope that Max will forget about Liz and fall madly in love with me. That may take a while. But this hidden assumption that he owes me anything, that he's obligated to anybody to relive his old destiny... I admit I've been looking at that and it seems a bit silly. Max should be, ultimately, with whoever makes him happy, but I still think he could be happy with me. Does that make any sense?"
"Yeah, more than a little," Michael admitted. "And maybe, just maybe, you should try looking for someone else besides Max Evans who might make YOU happy." Tess instantly flushes, the suggestion instantly calling to mind her secret affair with Kyle.
"Ummm... okay, okay, umm, by the way, is there anything on alien counterattack watch??" she blurted out in a transparent attempt to change the subject.
Michael rolled with the shift, not commenting on it. "Nah. Courtney showed me how to use this black pentagon thing in tracking mode -- Liz had one that she got from Whittaker's office. It's scanning the entire town and a few miles beyond for alien energy signatures. Nobody here but us chickens."
"Well, that can't last forever," Tess muttered darkly. "We doomed those Copper Summit skins to die, and they seem like the type who are big on payback. They'll come, and if they haven't arrived yet, it just means that they have a little time and are planning carefully. That doesn't make me feel any better."
"Maybe they don't believe that we're really here in Roswell," Michael suggested. "That our signatures, if they're scanning too, are fakes somehow and some kind of trap is waiting here."
"Don't I wish."
----------
"Whatcha thinking about, Liz??"
Liz Parker looked up from her admittedly pensive stare off into the distance, (actually the cafeteria wall, which wasn't that distant,) and smiled at Max when she realized that he was the one who'd asked her a question. "Ohhh.. just, well, Michael and Tess were sitting together and then they walked off. Guess I was just wondering what they might be talking about."
"Could be he's telling her that he's dating the plastic girl," Isabel put in. "Not sure anyone else brought her up to speed on that part."At least I didn't feel like mentioning it."
"Or they could be going over tactical battle plans," Alex put in. All five of them had met for lunch today; he and Isabel, Max and Liz, and Maria. They had most of a table to themselves, so could mention sensitive topics safely as long as they were careful to keep voices low. "I know Michael's been obsessed about it all week, and Tess seems like the kind to be interested in that."
"Maybe we should be taking an interest too," Max mentioned. "After all, if the big counterattack happens, the evil aliens will pretty much be coming after all of us. The four of us get un-grounded tomorrow morning, so we won't have that excuse anymore."
"Well, I don't know about you, but I have dance stuff to worry about," Isabel replied with a grin. "Finding a gown, Figuring out how I want to wear my hair, getting a manicure - all that and more, it all takes time, and it all has to be done right. I'll need some 'get out of drill' cards."
"But I know you, Izzy," Max shot back. "You can make that kind of thing stretch out on and on to fill up all available time - especially when you're trying to avoid Czechoslovakian stuff. I'm not sure that's such a good idea this time. Do what you have to do, yes, have a great time at the dance, but don't dawdle over it. We need your help." Isabel sighed with exasperation.
"What's up?" Alex asked Maria after a short silence. "You've been really quiet... is it Michael angst??"
"Umm, kind of." She sighed. "I know that I don't really have a rational leg to stand on and object to him dating Courtney... but I don't really care a rat's ass about rational and I hate it. And I really hate how we left things between us."
Alex smiled wanly, clearly not knowing what to say to reassure his old friend. "Well, you don't have to spend that much of your emotional energy on Michael," Liz suggested softly. "You're going to the dance with Nicky, right??" Maria nodded. "Maybe the three of us should go dress shopping together. That is -- assuming you wouldn't mind, Isabel?"
The tall blonde girl nodded. "Are you going with anybody, Liz?"
"Nah, I don't think so." Even an astute observer would have been hard pressed to say if her glance flicked to Max for a moment. "But I'll go anyway, show my school spirit or whatever. Always liked autumn and the harvest and that stuff."
"Alright," Maria said with a slightly tired sigh. "Count me in... assuming that finishing this history paper doesn't kill me that is."
-----------
Liz was sitting in study hall, working on some discussion questions from her world history class, when the school's public address system switched on with a faint but audible 'click'. A male voice grumbled out, "Boys and babes, we've got another Harvest Ball special request comin' atcha." This was part of the traditional hooplah surrounding the upcoming dance... one of the less creative parts in Liz's own opinion. Guys would sneak into the office to send out these public invitations to the girl they wanted to attend the dance with. Usually very bad unaccompanied singing was involved as well. Liz hoped that Max had caught the hint she was trying to send him at lunch, or at the very least, he'd have the sense not to ask her to the dance in public like this -- much as she'd like to go in public with him.
Something about the voice, disguised as it was, seemed familiar. Stars above, was there a chance it actually WAS Max?? Liz groaned as, after a short pause, the mystery guy continued: "This one's going out to you, Tess Harding." And then, some of the gruffness fell away as, sure enough, he began to sing: slightly off-key and slightly off-tempo, to a guitar rock song that sounded out of place, yet oddly sweet, as an impromptu acapella: "How many times must I tell you, babe? How many bridges I gotta cross? How must I 'splain myself, 'Fore I can talk to the boss?" The singer sounded even more familiar now, a pleasantly untrained rich tenor, but Liz couldn't narrow it down to a name until... "Before I can talk to the boss?"
Until she started thinking about who else might conceivably want to ask Tess to the dance, and then it was obvious. Kyle.
"How many times must I say I love you; 'Fore you finely understand."Yeah, it had to be Kyle. "Won't you be my forever woo -- Aaghh!!"
And he cut off at just that point, which had to have something to do with the fact that Tess was staring intently into the middle distance, with a furious expression on her flawless features. Tess' specialty alien power was the mndwarp - she could make things appear that didn't really exist, by sending her own signals into other people's brains. She could make herself instantly appear in the office to chew Kyle out, or create something even scarier for his benefit. Just around the time Kyle's soft yelp was fading away, the circuit connection went dead.
Tess had to be incredibly upset just at this moment. If Liz had recognized Kyle's voice singing, then Tess must have too, and she would assume that other people who knew Kyle would also know that it was him. Such as Max... and Tess didn't want Max to know that she'd been seeing someone else, because that would step on the sincerity of her 'we're destined to be lovers' spiel.
Liz didn't know exactly what the consequences of Kyle's little stunt would be, but she was willing to bet that they'd be bad.
-----------
Courtney was in Michael's apartment when he got home that day after school, sprawled out on his couch, lazily playing on the old video game console he had picked up at a summer yard sale. "Hey honey, how were classes?" she asked casually when she saw him.
"Umm... did I miss the part of the relationship when we start breaking into each other's homes for no particularly good reason?" he asked with a smile. "I mean, I know I've busted into your apartment, but that was on business, pretty much, and that's different."
"I got business," she insisted, clicking buttons on the game controller. "And I'll get to it if you just give me a moment." Michael sat himself down at one end of the loveseat, looked more closely at the screen, and had to fight off an urge to whistle loudly and appreciatively. Courtney was on one of the highest levels of 'Age of Illyria,' with the speed of the action cranked to its highest level, and she was managing the various jumps, shooting sequences, and other difficult maneuvers flawlessly. Michael himself had made it up to this level, and indeed won the game, but at the regular speed setting, and not with nearly as much elegance. He could probably manage to stay alive on the high-speed setting - with about three months' practice at it.
But this was all of a piece with Courtney's story so far. As a full-blooded alien, he knew that she was stronger and a faster runner than Michael himself was, and apparently she had inhuman hand-eye co-ordination and mental processing power as well. Michael's own reaction speed and co-ordination with video games had always been pretty well above the norm, but he'd never stopped to think that it might have to do with his own inhuman DNA.
Courtney's attention didn't stray from the game until she'd defeated a particularly nasty mid-level Boss, and then she calmly switched the system onto pause and faced him. "Something's pooching the tritium resonator's scanning function."
Michael frowned. "Something of hostile origin??"
"Ummm..." She frowned and put the game controller down. "Could be. I think that there might be a way to scramble it or send an interference signal. On the other hand, it could be natural. These things get thrown off every so often by solar flares or storm fronts or whatever the hell." She sighed. "I was never that much on the technical side... unfortunately."
"But the timing is - well, it's fishy," Michael complained. "We'll have to be careful. At least Max and Isabel and the rest of them get off their punishment tomorrow morning. They can help us keep watch." He sighed. "And that, well, doesn't really bring us to the next thing, something I wanted to talk about with you, but I'll make do."
Courtney smiled at his tortured grammar. "What is it?"
"Umm... there's this school dance thing on Friday night. I would understand if you wanted to stay the hell away, especially considering who else is going to be there -- but it could be fun, if we're together."
Courtney considered. "So, this is a 'formal affair'?" She affected a truly atrocious british posh accent for the last two words. "Where we both dress up in completely ridiculous clothes that we'll only ever be able to wear to equally ridiculous shindigs, and you bring be some kind of frail plant life to pin to my dress, and pictures and chaperones and just gag me?"
Michael sighed. "Yeah, that's about the size of it I think."
"Sounds fun - count me in."
It took several seconds for the words to penetrate. "You... you want to go? But why??"
"Ehhh... I've always wanted to see the tragically ludicrous, up close and personal." She shrugged. "Or something like that. Maybe I just think it would be funny to see you get dressed up in a monkey suit. Do you have a problem with that??"
"Umm, no I guess." Michael sighed and decided that he'd probably better quit while he was ahead. "Do you want to let me have a turn and die on that game??"
Courtney smirked at him. "I was wondering about that... guess either your half-human brain can't timeshift, or you never picked up that trick."
"Time-shift?" Michael repeated. "Sounds like something I remember seeing on an old sci-fi tv show -- you concentrate hard enough, and it's like everything you see slows down." Courtney nodded. "That really works?"
"Well, it does for me," Courtney laughed. "Let me see if I can talk you through it."
-----------
Sheriff Jim Valenti wandered into the kitchen and noticed that Kyle was at the stove, stirring a skillet of something that steamed and sputtered with a long-handled white plastic spoon. "Hey, is that dinner?"
"Probably, assuming that it doesn't blow up," Kyle admitted. "How was work?"
"Umm... not bad, I guess." Jim sat down at the kitchen table. "What *is* it? That you're cooking, I mean??"
"Well..." Kyle reached out to adjust a control on the stove and withdrew his spoon to consider what he had wrought. "Umm, let's see. It's not quite chili, it's not quite spaghetti sauce. Kind of somewhere in between. Whatcha think??"
"Umm... could be pretty tasty," the sheriff decided with a smile. "What, if anything, should we have with it?"
"Hmmm..." Kyle considered that. "Maybe some steamed rice? Or just crackers??"
"Either sound good," Jim said, and moved on from the subject of food. "Is Tess around?"
"Nah, don't think she came back here when school let out," Kyle said, frowning a little as he stirred the pan again, then went rifling through the fridge for something. "Might have slipped in while I was busy - you could check the bedroom perhaps."
"Perhaps later." A brief pause. "How are the two of you getting along lately, anyway? I mean... well, I know that it was a lot to expect of you to give up your space because Tess shows up out of the blue. And, well, it's been a little while, and though the specific danger has passed, enough people around town have heard the story about how I took her in because her father disappeared that for her to suddenly leave and get her own place would look suspicious, and that's exposing her to another danger. So, erm, how're you holding up, bunking down out there in the living room??"
Kyle thought about this a minute, chopping up some small carrots to toss them into his masterpiece. "It's okay. Comforts of the body merely lull the sleepy spirit into forgetting its quest."
Jim shook his head slightly, obviously filing that quote into a mental 'Buddhist - ignore' file. "And Tess? How're you two getting along?"
Well, let's see, Kyle thought. We've been screwing around secretly for a week and a half now, and I tried to come out in public and ask her to the dance today, but she used her freaky alien powers to get me to stop, because she's obviously still in love with Max Evans and doesn't want him to know about me. "We're, um, we're doing okay I guess. There's always a little, erm, friction, but that's the way life goes, isn't it?"
"Okay. I'm, uh, I'm gonna go play a little minesweeper on the computer before dinner, kay? Keep my investigative brain cells trained."
There was still no sign of Tess when the Valenti men sat down to dinner... tomato-chille casserole with little crackers crumbled up into it, and some storebought salad that had seen better days. After the meal was done and the dishes cleared away, the leftovers safely packed away into the fridge, Jim cleared off the dining room table and started playing an odd old-fashioned kind of solitaire. Kyle would have liked to take advantage of the peace and quiet to try and meditate, but he hadn't been able to get his chemistry questions done in Study hall, because of sneaking into the office for his mis-step with Tess, so he staked off a small space at the end of the table and got to work on temperature/reaction rate equations.
He'd finished seven of them when the sound of a soft tapping disturbed him, and he looked up to see Tess standing about seven feet away. It was the toe of her right shoe that was tapping against the floor. 'Come with me,' she mouthed silently.
Shrugging, Kyle stacked his notebook and text up and followed Tess without a word, out to her car, into the passenger seat when she indicated so, and she drove away. Once Kyle decided that she was heading for her old house, now their 'love nest,' he spoke up. "No, not yet. Tess, we need to talk."
She shot him a wry sidelong glance. "I thought it might be better to worry about that after, but if you're sure, then okay." She hadn't stopped driving towards Harding House yet.
"Umm, yeah, I think I am."
Tess slowed the SUV down, found a parking spot, and turned the ignition off once they had occupied it. "Okay, umm, do you want to go first??"
"Errr, yeah I guess," Kyle mumbled, and the memory flashed in front of his eyes. There in the admin office, knowing that he was singing badly and embarassing himself, (insofar as anyone would recognize his voice, that was,) he had been quite surprised to see Tess appear out of nowhere, surrounded by a glowing nimbus that hurt him to look at, and screaming at him to stop the madness, just stop singing and turn off the announcement switch. After a moment's confusion, Kyle had, and the apparition had disappeared. But Kyle knew that he hadn't imagined any of it... he had heard more than enough about Tess' powers by this point, though he'd never been the target of them before. She'd projected that vision, and the sound of her voice, into his mind.
"I... well, I can understand you being upset, but I'm a little mad too at the moment. I spent quite a bit of time planning a risky surprise for you. Wasn't sure if you'd actually want to go to the dance or not, but I didn't expect that you would freak out like that... as if you were ashamed of me or something like that."
"It... it's not like that," she protested. "I -- well, I just don't want certain people to know that I'm involved with ANY guy right now. Not specifically about you."
"Not 'certain people'... not really," Kyle said with gritted teeth. "It's all about Evans, right?? Max. You'll do just about anything with me to get your rocks off, but Max can't know, because you're supposed to be the pristine bride, waiting patiently for him to throw Liz over and come back to you."
Tess took a moment to reply. "Well, much as I hate to say it, that's pretty much the size of it." She sighed. "You had a pretty good notion that the situation was complicated before we got involved, Kyle. And I never *once* gave you a hint that I'd be alright with going public, did I?? So I don't see where you have a right to complain."
"Maybe you're right," Kyle got out of the car and leaned in through the window. "But I'll walk home, thank you very much. And you can go fuck yourself -- in any sense of the phrase you like." And he headed back the way that they had come.
TO BE CONTINUED...
